Text Overflow: It's just a flesh wound

[tinstar]

[Continued from: here]

[Raylan took advantage of having several hours to bring his hotel room back into something resembling tidiness, as well as taking a shower and grabbing a nap - Sleep wasn't something anyone got a lot of around Malcolm Whitly, but he'd long learned how to live and work on smaller amounts of sleep.

Dressed but with his button up open and no shoes on his feet, Raylan answered the door with a pull of a smile.] Managed to make it one piece I see. C'mon in. [ He shut the door behind him as he continued.] Flight okay?

Comments

[abrightboy]

It didn't crash! [Mentioned cheerfully as he slipped into the room, setting his bag down inside the door, but not before reaching in an pulling out a large bottle of 12 year old single malt scotch, which he placed in Raylan's hands.] How are you? Any interesting cases on the go?

[tinstar]

[Raylan scoffed an amused sound at the dark reply, accepting the scotch with an impressed and pleased lift of his eyebrows as he studied the label.]

Just Boyd and he's far from interestin'. That's probably why he blows shit up.

[As much as Raylan wanted to break into the scotch, 7 am was not the right time. Too early, even for him, so it was set on a shelf on the far wall against the bathroom door before he walked back.]

I'm not even gonna ask how long you've been awake. How's your shoulder?

[abrightboy]

I got almost three and a half hours two nights ago! I can go for at least another day on that.

[He flexed his shoulder a little.] It's sore, but I don't know how sore is 'normal' and how sore is 'two steps away from septicaemia'.

[tinstar]

No wonder you're so chipper. Alright, [he started, lazy fingers gesturing in a 'let's get it going' circle.] take it off, lemme look.

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm undid his tie, slid it out of his collar, shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over a nearby chair, then unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged that off his shoulders too, turning around so Raylan could reach the square of gauze the emergency room had put over the wound after cleaning it.]

In fairness, I ducked, but it ricocheted. Did you know that, because bullets are round, there's no mathematical way to predict the direction of a ricochet?

[tinstar]

That so? I always thought the angle it hit was something one of the brains could figure out.

[With surprisingly gentle fingers, Raylan peeled the bloody gauze off Malcolm's shoulder to gingerly press around the wide edge of it.]

How long ago did this happen? It doesn't look infected, but it's not exactly looking like you've spent time on a beach.

[abrightboy]

The bullet is malleable. Depending on what it hits, its shape is always different. It's especially impossible if it hits a round surface like a tree or a pole... [He sucked in a breath slightly as Raylan put pressure around the wound.]

Yesterday. Middle of yesterday. So... about eighteen hours ago?

[tinstar]

Stay here. [Everything was less than 10 steps away in this room, including the bathroom and the first aid kit he'd set up on the counter in prep. It was popped open and a small bottle of antiseptic cream was retrieved.]

Hellva graze. Who dressed it the first time, what'd they say? You go to an ER?

[ Do you have any allergies - Is there any history of heart problems in your family; Raylan was already starting to feel like a fraud nurse.]

[abrightboy]

Yeah, I dropped by an ER on my way home.

[He twisted around to watch Raylan move around the room.]

They said it couldn't be stitched; just to keep it clean and covered.

[tinstar]

They're right. Edges aren't clean enough or close enough together. You'll be alright. Might have a scar though. [ Yeah, he's done this... a lot.]

So- [Returning with the cream, a fresh bandage and a small roll of tape, Raylan turned Malcolm a fraction so he could get the light and started applying.]

Who was shooting at who?

[abrightboy]

The badguy was shooting at everything that moved. But I figured out where he was hiding.

[tinstar]

What was the case? [After the cream, it was the gauze, the paper cast mindlessly on the floor before he started tearing tape and securing the edges. He pat Malcolm's shoulder in silent 'you're done', and leaned himself on the dresser.]

[abrightboy]

Someone was murdering the members of a rec league volleyball team. Turned out to be a guy who tried out and never made it and he thought being on the team would get him his girlfriend back. [He reached for his shirt and pulled it back on, starting to button it up.] He was hiding in his mother's apartment. When Gil knocked on the door, he started shooting through the door.

[tinstar]

Volleyball team? [Raylan scoffed.] Jesus, was this a kid?

[He shook his head.] Kid like that isn't ever gonna survive a divorce.

Everyone else come out alright?

[abrightboy]

The suspect was forty-three years old. But nobody on the team got hurt. He was just sort of firing wildly. Gil shot him in the leg and he went down crying.

[Malcolm gestured around.] Can I have a glass of water? I have to take my pills.

[tinstar]

[Raylan's distaste was clear in the drawback of his head, expression twisting in a passing disapproval before Malcolm's request had him pushing off the dresser to fish around for a sleeve of red solo cups that he pulled a fresh one out of.]

Lotta trouble for someone who oughta know better but I'm glad y'all got him with only that to show for it. [The bathroom faucet turned on for a few long seconds before turning off again.]

So Gil knows you're injured, you just didn't want to admit you needed help with it or that you were worried. [He guessed at that as he handed over the 'glass' of water.]

[abrightboy]

Um, no. No. Gil was very busy and I sort of snuck out, suggesting I had some other sort of obligation to rush to.

[He took the cup and set it on the table, then took out four pill bottles, lined them up in a row and opened each one by one.]

It was only a very little white lie.

[tinstar]

[Raylan openly laughed.]

You're a very strange kinda man to not trust your most trusted person with somethin' completely reasonable.

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm tossed the pills in his mouth and chased them down with a couple swallows of water.]

Gil stopped telling me to wait in the car. I can't jeopardize that.

[tinstar]

[Raylan watched the line of Malcolms shoulder's and the man's profile as he swallowed down the pills.]

You worried that he's going to leave you behind or something? [It was a tentative ask - he'd been a little off the mark before and he wanted to understand.] Leave you with nothin' to do?

[abrightboy]

[He looked down at his pill bottles, straightening the row.]

What if he did stop calling me? It's not like anyone else will give me a job.

[tinstar]

They will. [Raylan sounded sure of it.]

Your record? The paperwork has gotta be shining. You've never not gotten your man, right? Trust me, Malcolm, that counts. There's plenty of agencies around the US that could use your skills.

[abrightboy]

[He looked up at Raylan. His tone was matter-of-fact. Surely a giveaway that he was hiding some of his worst pain under it at this point.]

The FBI fired me for assaulting a sheriff and potential latent psychopathy. That's what my paperwork looks like.

[tinstar]

If only you could see what's on my file..

Sheriffs, on general purpose, need a healthy assault now and then.

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm couldn't help a delighted smile at that.]

He really, really asked for it. I can't stress that enough.

[He picked up each pill bottle and put them back in his bag one by one.]

They caught me off-guard at the disciplinary. Bringing my father into it. I don't know why I wasn't expecting that after I was... outed, as it were. But I wasn't. [He looked at Raylan again.] I'm usually good at anticipating what's going to happen in... bureaucracy. Not that time. I lost my temper.