[As long as that is an accepted fact then they can move on from there. He stays crouched down a little so that Freddy can reach and so that any altitude can spare his head a spin for now.]
Thanks, Doc.
[Now he slowly pulls up to his full height again and gives the back of his neck a rub as he looks around them.]
Nobody followed?
[Since looking behind has come so natural. Signs point to nope.]
[Which is a relief. He is a little disappointed he is missing out on an opportunity to bash some faces it. Sure would help him feel a better over all. That one solid clock he got in did something. Oh and getting his own clobbering.]
Shit. It's swelling?
[Larry sniffs again and lightly brights the tips of his fingers to tap the bridge then bulb of his nose.]
Damn.
[Now it's starting to feel more like he was punched in the face. He'll take back the feeling better on that. Sigh. Looking more at himself, he sees the blood. Only a little. No fucking dying, he is going to be okay.
Freddy here can take more on average. Was it his wound that made him say no? The old man thinks not. A lean between them got him annoyed. There's that. Ain't that something, Dimmy?]
[Just enough to make no mistake this man has been in a fight. Wait what? A check-in? The kid's brow furrows.]
You wanna see a doctor?
[Freddy himself is sore but who is he to judge how badly he ought to see a doctor now? Compared to bleeding all over the warehouse floor this scuffle is nothing. It's changed his perspective.]
I think I'm okay. Nothing much. [Nothing doing.] Do I look okay?
[He steps back with freckled hands up so the old man can look over him himself. That healing wound on his belly isn't bleeding through his shirt profusely but there is something slightly damp there. More like the scab's gone and cracked open to weep the clear stuff that builds up during the healing process. As far as Freddy's concerned, a little antiseptic and it's good to go.]
[Head tilt to really look on at him. Of course he zeros into his wound.]
Looks like something's going on there.
[And boy does he wish, wish he had some sort of wound training to pull from.]
Does it usually do that?
[Lightly touching on the wet spot before pulling it slowly up a degree or two. They're standing off of the road with a building as a shield from one direction so it doesn't look like anything special if they play it cool. Plenty of scabbing there.]
[He doesn't stop Larry from looking at it. That would be foolish after what Freddy more or less caused in the bar. The wound itself still looks intact, healing well, no infection. But this little crack in the scabbing could lead to infection without proper dressing. When was the last time Freddy laundered this t-shirt?]
[His mouth is a flat line as he feels over the skin just around the wound. Hell of a wound. The healing process is like a time piece ticking away how long they've been out of the City and on the road. Being no doctor and having no intention of spinning it as nothing, he doesn't want to take any chances.]
It's been a few days now, kid. Let's just go. If anything we'll get more meds.
[Which have been helping quite a bit as far as Larry is concerned. He's a believer in medicating. Just like drugs only helpful. He slowly sets Freddy's shirt down.]
[To the doctor, he knows. He just can't help expressing surprise anyway but he certainly doesn't fight Larry's decision. After all the old man will have to do the driving.]
Now? At this hour? We don't have money for the ER.
[More surprise. It's not like he's forgotten Larry has certain...ways around things here in Mexico.]
If we find a small place I think we'll be able to work something out. No fucking way I'm gonna say fuck it on account of money. We'll get more.
[Just not as quick and easy in the way that would be convenient. Once rainbow colored money poured like rain. That wasn't why it was a happier time at all, now. No.]
[Freddy concedes, letting Larry take the wheel. If they don't lie then they won't have any healthcare and that's not something Freddy is willing to sacrifice for a principle. Hey cops lie too, sometimes you have to lie to get to the truth. Fortunately for him that holds up in a court of law. For two fugitives? Not so much.]
[40 mph. 50. 60. With no stunt training to speak of, the old man is going on his own sense of direction and feel for the car. Not too bad right? Around them the other vehicles honk but rightly swing out of the way.]
We clear?
[No sirens around them. Maybe the policia is rather lax in the traffic department. Cartel issues, shoot outs are real police business. What's some assholes speeding.]
[Freddy says with increased command presence that comes with being the passenger of a speeding vehicle trying to call out intersections. Just a habit, Dimmy, don't panic.]
There's no way that'd fly in the fucking states.
[He says, remarking on the success of their entire charade. They've got patch up materials and drugs to boot. Newendyke, you are officially a bandit.]
[Being that they can't fucking foot the bill. That's what. Oops. The adrenaline keeps his pulse spiked but the car is slowing down nicely.]
I liked this place though.
[Better than the hospital before. Too bad they had to lie so fucking much. The whole shrill noises and flailing were really what got them in fast. Grade-A acting.]
Glad we went when we did. I didn't like that whole infection talk.
[Freddy insists oh so casually, not to insult any doctor prior of course. Everyone's done something so far to prolong his life after getting his belly shot up. Really he's surprised hes lasted this long outside of surgery already. Only the city could pull off bigger miracles.]
The one before this one seemed on the level. They took your temperature, weighed you...
[Might come as no big surprise that Larry has not had sufficient healthcare in his years. Even in the City he only went when he absolutely had to. Which thankfully was only what? Twice? Three times the most?]
Like I was saying though, you infected like how they were going at it without proper care.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
orangetoughguy) wrote2010-08-06 11:39 pm
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[As long as that is an accepted fact then they can move on from there. He stays crouched down a little so that Freddy can reach and so that any altitude can spare his head a spin for now.]
Thanks, Doc.
[Now he slowly pulls up to his full height again and gives the back of his neck a rub as he looks around them.]
Nobody followed?
[Since looking behind has come so natural. Signs point to nope.]
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[Finally he removes the fabric from the old man's snout.]
We should get you some ice to bring it down, or water, to wash it off.
[There's a little bit of blood on Larry's collar from the wound, nothing alarming but you never know.]
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[Which is a relief. He is a little disappointed he is missing out on an opportunity to bash some faces it. Sure would help him feel a better over all. That one solid clock he got in did something. Oh and getting his own clobbering.]
Shit. It's swelling?
[Larry sniffs again and lightly brights the tips of his fingers to tap the bridge then bulb of his nose.]
Damn.
[Now it's starting to feel more like he was punched in the face. He'll take back the feeling better on that. Sigh. Looking more at himself, he sees the blood. Only a little. No fucking dying, he is going to be okay.
Freddy here can take more on average. Was it his wound that made him say no? The old man thinks not. A lean between them got him annoyed. There's that. Ain't that something, Dimmy?]
We're due for a check in anyway, don't you think?
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[Just enough to make no mistake this man has been in a fight. Wait what? A check-in? The kid's brow furrows.]
You wanna see a doctor?
[Freddy himself is sore but who is he to judge how badly he ought to see a doctor now? Compared to bleeding all over the warehouse floor this scuffle is nothing. It's changed his perspective.]
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[And now is burdened with playing boss man.]
I'm asking for you too. Since we're on the subject.
[Sniff, sniffing. He lightly thumbs a nostril. No blood. Freddy did a good job.]
You know as well as I do I coulda gone for more.
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[He steps back with freckled hands up so the old man can look over him himself. That healing wound on his belly isn't bleeding through his shirt profusely but there is something slightly damp there. More like the scab's gone and cracked open to weep the clear stuff that builds up during the healing process. As far as Freddy's concerned, a little antiseptic and it's good to go.]
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Looks like something's going on there.
[And boy does he wish, wish he had some sort of wound training to pull from.]
Does it usually do that?
[Lightly touching on the wet spot before pulling it slowly up a degree or two. They're standing off of the road with a building as a shield from one direction so it doesn't look like anything special if they play it cool. Plenty of scabbing there.]
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[He doesn't stop Larry from looking at it. That would be foolish after what Freddy more or less caused in the bar. The wound itself still looks intact, healing well, no infection. But this little crack in the scabbing could lead to infection without proper dressing. When was the last time Freddy laundered this t-shirt?]
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[His mouth is a flat line as he feels over the skin just around the wound. Hell of a wound. The healing process is like a time piece ticking away how long they've been out of the City and on the road. Being no doctor and having no intention of spinning it as nothing, he doesn't want to take any chances.]
It's been a few days now, kid. Let's just go. If anything we'll get more meds.
[Which have been helping quite a bit as far as Larry is concerned. He's a believer in medicating. Just like drugs only helpful. He slowly sets Freddy's shirt down.]
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[To the doctor, he knows. He just can't help expressing surprise anyway but he certainly doesn't fight Larry's decision. After all the old man will have to do the driving.]
Now? At this hour? We don't have money for the ER.
[More surprise. It's not like he's forgotten Larry has certain...ways around things here in Mexico.]
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[How much of a little he won't say just yet.]
If we find a small place I think we'll be able to work something out. No fucking way I'm gonna say fuck it on account of money. We'll get more.
[Just not as quick and easy in the way that would be convenient. Once rainbow colored money poured like rain. That wasn't why it was a happier time at all, now. No.]
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[Another dumb question of course he's sure the old man wants him to see a fucking doctor.]
How are we gonna find one? You know a guy?
[From aggressive to submissive in less than a half hour. Freddy can't help feeling a little sheepish after that foolish display in the bar.]
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[Aggressive submissive to then what? The whole ride Larry has been reminding himself to stay adaptable. That is the key.]
Might have to do some lying.
[He will keep the idea of a 'dine and ditch' approach to himself.]
I would rather do that then wait. You've been healing up beautifully. Let's not fuck up a good thing.
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[Freddy concedes, letting Larry take the wheel. If they don't lie then they won't have any healthcare and that's not something Freddy is willing to sacrifice for a principle. Hey cops lie too, sometimes you have to lie to get to the truth. Fortunately for him that holds up in a court of law. For two fugitives? Not so much.]
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Okay.
[He licks his lips that feel dry. They best be getting a move on.]
We'll be in and out before nightfall. On the road again.
[Hand slips away as he turns back.]
Y'might need to act too. I think you're good at that.
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Act? As what?
[This plan is starting to sound more like a scheme.]
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[A plan, a scheme...same difference.]
That way the chances of you getting in will be sooner.
[He is trying to play it off as something more reasonable.]
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[He means the crying and whaling and basically everything he did when he was fucking dying in the backseat of a car.]
I can manage that.
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We clear?
[No sirens around them. Maybe the policia is rather lax in the traffic department. Cartel issues, shoot outs are real police business. What's some assholes speeding.]
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[Freddy says with increased command presence that comes with being the passenger of a speeding vehicle trying to call out intersections. Just a habit, Dimmy, don't panic.]
There's no way that'd fly in the fucking states.
[He says, remarking on the success of their entire charade. They've got patch up materials and drugs to boot. Newendyke, you are officially a bandit.]
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[Being that they can't fucking foot the bill. That's what. Oops. The adrenaline keeps his pulse spiked but the car is slowing down nicely.]
I liked this place though.
[Better than the hospital before. Too bad they had to lie so fucking much. The whole shrill noises and flailing were really what got them in fast. Grade-A acting.]
Glad we went when we did. I didn't like that whole infection talk.
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[Freddy insists oh so casually, not to insult any doctor prior of course. Everyone's done something so far to prolong his life after getting his belly shot up. Really he's surprised hes lasted this long outside of surgery already. Only the city could pull off bigger miracles.]
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[He heard just fine but what.]
The one before this one seemed on the level. They took your temperature, weighed you...
[Might come as no big surprise that Larry has not had sufficient healthcare in his years. Even in the City he only went when he absolutely had to. Which thankfully was only what? Twice? Three times the most?]
Like I was saying though, you infected like how they were going at it without proper care.
[A low whistle.]
No fuckin' way. Not you.
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[Freddy remarks oh so casually with a tone of 'I know I'm right and you're wrong.' Nothing doing.]
I'm not complaining, dude. It's an observation.
[SHRUG.]
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[And what about that? Huh? Huh? He shifts in his seat, elbow out the window and feeling comfortable as they are now at a cruising speed.]
I didn't try and take you to any voodoo witch doctor shacks. They practiced medicine.
[That is worlds more professional than a nurse's kitchen table. Put it out of your head, old man. In the past, in Los Angeles.]
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