Brave
Junior Member
Gene wheezed out a chuckle, his lungs burning. Coughs racked his small frame as he tried to curl into himself, curl away from the pain. His face turned into the lap below him, nosing at a bony knee. How he hated bruised ribs. The heat when you breathed, the pain the followed each lung full of air. It would be at least two weeks before he could Hands smoothed through his curls once more, his coughs subsiding.
"Ya' guys look like I'm dyin'. I've had worse though. I jus'-jus' need ta' rest fo' bit." The Cajun mumbled, his one good eye glazing over as he recalled the two broken ribs and wrist. He would remain strong, "I'm still bettah' lookin' den' yo' ass Damien." His attempt at another chuckle had him wheezing once more.
The long pale fingers that gestured and prodded him to sit up could only belong to one person. He allowed his body to become loose, malleable, for the red head beside him. With a splitting headache, he propped his boneless neck on the back of the couch, his head lolling until his neck was at an uncomfortable looking arch. As he shifted he became aware of his damp t-shirt. "Why da' fuck am I wet, huh?"
~.~.~
Merriell let out a sigh of relief as the Cajun in front of him relied on his heavy, sarcastic wit, a sign that his concussion wasn't as bad as he had feared. "You silly man, only you could have such a thick head to brush off a concussion." He murmured as his gaze lingered on the bruising, his mind supplying that there were more than one attacker judging from the cuts. Tears pricked and burned at his eyes as his thoughts turned sour, while 'what-ifs' plagued him. 'This could have been a lot worse. Thank you lord up in heaven for watching over this good hearted man.'
Mer sniffled and gave Peter a watery smile and a nod of thanks before retuning to Gene. With clammy hands, he pulled the gaunt face of the Cajun towards the nearest light source, studying the cut on his cheekbone with a critical eye. His fingers gently, but firmly pulled two butterfly bandages right across the cut. The red head winced as his ears picked up a low hiss of pain as a result of his ministrations. With gritted teeth he tended to the cut above his left eye with the same deft motions, willing it to be over and done with. He couldn't tell if it was his bad heart or just the mere thought of causing the man in from of him pain, but his heart ached.
"Now, I want you to take four of these pills with food, and don't you fight me on this Eugen Shelton, so help me God, and if and when you fall asleep we will wake you up every hour on the hour to make sure your brain isn't seriously injured, you got that!?" Merriell's tone was low and serious as he glared at the hurt teen.
He watched with bated breath as the Cajun bit his top lip, his over bite pronounced till he looked more animal than human. With a smirk cast his way he heard a mumbled, "Mmm cher, if ya' don' know already, my brain was born messed up,' followed by a hacking chuckle.
Merriell's glare increased ten fold before he let out a biting, "Some best be telling me why and what you were doing walking home in the middle of the night."
"Ya' guys look like I'm dyin'. I've had worse though. I jus'-jus' need ta' rest fo' bit." The Cajun mumbled, his one good eye glazing over as he recalled the two broken ribs and wrist. He would remain strong, "I'm still bettah' lookin' den' yo' ass Damien." His attempt at another chuckle had him wheezing once more.
The long pale fingers that gestured and prodded him to sit up could only belong to one person. He allowed his body to become loose, malleable, for the red head beside him. With a splitting headache, he propped his boneless neck on the back of the couch, his head lolling until his neck was at an uncomfortable looking arch. As he shifted he became aware of his damp t-shirt. "Why da' fuck am I wet, huh?"
~.~.~
Merriell let out a sigh of relief as the Cajun in front of him relied on his heavy, sarcastic wit, a sign that his concussion wasn't as bad as he had feared. "You silly man, only you could have such a thick head to brush off a concussion." He murmured as his gaze lingered on the bruising, his mind supplying that there were more than one attacker judging from the cuts. Tears pricked and burned at his eyes as his thoughts turned sour, while 'what-ifs' plagued him. 'This could have been a lot worse. Thank you lord up in heaven for watching over this good hearted man.'
Mer sniffled and gave Peter a watery smile and a nod of thanks before retuning to Gene. With clammy hands, he pulled the gaunt face of the Cajun towards the nearest light source, studying the cut on his cheekbone with a critical eye. His fingers gently, but firmly pulled two butterfly bandages right across the cut. The red head winced as his ears picked up a low hiss of pain as a result of his ministrations. With gritted teeth he tended to the cut above his left eye with the same deft motions, willing it to be over and done with. He couldn't tell if it was his bad heart or just the mere thought of causing the man in from of him pain, but his heart ached.
"Now, I want you to take four of these pills with food, and don't you fight me on this Eugen Shelton, so help me God, and if and when you fall asleep we will wake you up every hour on the hour to make sure your brain isn't seriously injured, you got that!?" Merriell's tone was low and serious as he glared at the hurt teen.
He watched with bated breath as the Cajun bit his top lip, his over bite pronounced till he looked more animal than human. With a smirk cast his way he heard a mumbled, "Mmm cher, if ya' don' know already, my brain was born messed up,' followed by a hacking chuckle.
Merriell's glare increased ten fold before he let out a biting, "Some best be telling me why and what you were doing walking home in the middle of the night."