2007-07-09: Promise


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Once back in New York, Cass and Lachlan have a short talk. And a breakdown. There is no crying in rescue missions!

July 9th, 2007:


Lachlan's Apartment

It was quite a trip back to the city after the quick hospital run. It's been one hell of a night and one hell of a morning, and now with late afternoon looming, falling into bed is not sounding like such a bad plan. Lachlan and Cass are greeted at the door by puppies and a kitten, and after taking the former out for a quick walk so as to avoid accidents on the floor, the Scotsman returns to the apartment and heads immediately for the kitchen. Scotch first. Shower after. Then collapsing. As is typical of his pig-headed self, he didn't get himself checked out at the hospital. It's just a scratch! One that might need stitches and cleaning up, but a scratch nonetheless.

The rest of the ride back from Syracuse showed Cass as unable to sleep. Really, she should be exhausted and passing out whenever the opportunity struck. However, that hasn't been the case. Instead she's been a little wired, unwanting to close her eyes because when she does she's just taken back the everything exploding. The wound is not just a scratch and every time that Lachlan denied getting it seen to, the more it annoyed Cass. So, even while they're both back in the apartment and Lachlan is getting himself a scotch, the woman is fiddling with the phone. "I'm just going to call. See to get you an appointment. You really should just get that stitched up. Make sure it doesn't get infected." Now that they're alone and able to talk about this, she's nt going to let it drop.

With a tinkle and clang of glass, scotch is had, and Lachlan returns to the living room with a rather haggard expression and a plastic tub full of basic first aid things: bandages, antiseptic, Neosporin. "Cassie, s'just a scratch, a'righ'?" he sighs with just the faintest hint of irritability. "'M fine. Dunna need a doctor." Doctors have needles. And the last one didn't give him a lollipop. She was mean. So mean. The Scotsman slumps onto the loveseat with a grunt and sets the tub nearby, only to wind up with a cat in his lap. Hi, George.

"You're /not/ fine." This is what she's been wanting to tell him the whole time. Not exactly that he's not fine, but to have this argument. It just didn't seem right to have it when they were hearing about Ramon and his eye earlier. "You were shot!" There's a near panicked tinge to her voice as she says it. Even /she/ can hear that, but she tries to ignore it. "You were /shot/, Lachlan." And nearly blown up. Who knows, he could be bleeding to death of internal injuries and they would never know! "Just…I'm going to call a doctor. Just to get you checked up. I think I have the card of that ER doctor who stitched us up from that other explosion." She may have been mean, but she managed to stitch up Lachlan without ripping anything. A major feat.

Lachlan peels off the makeshift bandage still wrapped around his arm, grimacing a little as the scab meshed into the fabric comes with it. Naturally, things start to bleed again and, despite his stubborn assessment, the wound does look like it needs attention. The ragged edges of skin are blackened, burned, and the gash is deep enough to warrant stitches. There's also all sorts of grime and grit in it. "'M no' goin' back ta tha' doctor," he grumbles as he opens a bottle of peroxide and soaks a few cotton swabs in it. "She wasna nice."

It's not like Cass to be weepy. However, looking at the wound bleeding again and the horrible state that it looks to be in makes her clasp a hand over her mouth. She really tries to keep the tears from starting again, but it's no use. The more she tries to keep from crying, the more forceful the tears escape. It's not even the wound that is doing this to her. It's the entire situation and the culmination of it that has started this. Even as the tears start, she quickly covers her face with her hands. Do not comment on her breakdown. This is a figment of your imagination.

When there's no verbal response from Cass, it takes Lachlan a moment and a few dabs of the cotton swab to realize that Something Is Wrong. He glances up inquisitively, only to have it turn to horror when he sees that she's got her face covered. Cass doesn't usually break down like this. It's … it's sorta frightening. "Cassie?" He sets aside his first aid kit and gets to his feet again to wrap both arms around her, injured and all. "Jesus, baby, c'mere."

When wrapped into the hug, Cass leans against Lachlan and just stays that way for a little while. She needs to let the immediate tears run their course so that she can actually speak. So, for a little while she says nothing. No explanation for this sudden turn into waterworks. Through all they've been through and all the injuries they had, she's never had to deal with the possibility of losing Lachlan forever. Finally, when she's able to choke out an explanation, it's short and simple. "I…I thought you'd died."

See, Lachlan's been doing really well in not thinking about this, but when Cass mentions it, he can't help it. And now his eyes are tingly. Only it's not manly to cry, so he holds them back real well. Instead, he tightens his embrace and takes in a deep, calming breath. "Me too," he murmurs. "But I'm no' dead, an' I'm no' gonna die fer a long time." And neither is she. No matter what Peter's stupid painting said.

Though mostly she's been keeping her hands in place over her face, Cass finally pulls them away so she can hold on to Lachlan tightly. The idea of losing him, it's a sobering and traumitizing thought. "But you /could/." There's so many ways that he could get hurt or killed and this has sort of triggered that latent worry wort in the back of her mind. Especially knowing Lachlan and his inability to back down from a fight and his penchant for getting into trouble. She doesn't even bother to brush the tears away now. "God, Lachlan, I can't lose you."

Crazy talk. Lachlan is obviously not going anywhere. Nevermind his temper and stubbornness and inability to walk away from a fight without leaping into it. "Yer no'," he assures. He can't quite tighten the embrace any further, so he instead just lowers his head and rests his cheek atop Cass' head, attempting to create a bubble — a Scotsman Bubble. They're comforting. "'ll be fine, baby. 'Ve survived this long, righ'?" This is Lachlan Deatley, Not Getting It.

It's not all that crazy, the idea that Lachlan might get into a fight and not survive it. That's the thought that keeps running through her mind. How stubborn and how his temper can get him into trouble. "But that was before you had a crazy girlfriend who kept getting into trouble," she sniffles a little. That Scotsman Bubble is pretty comforting, however it's not making the underlying problem go away. "Just. You have to promise me to be careful. /Really/ careful." Not just the kind of promise that he makes to make her feel better and plans to disregard.

Yeah, Cass. As far as he's concerned, she's the one who's always getting into situations that will get her killed. Lachlan just gets into scrapes and punches out politicians and sometimes gets shot at a lot. Nothing he can't handle. Except for that one time when he was almost shot to death and Cass took the bullets instead and nearly died as a result. That was a sort of sobering event. "Promise," he utters. "But ye have ta promise too. No more crazy stuff." He gives her a little half-shake, half-rub on the back — and then glances over at his arm. "… 'm bleedin' ever'where." Whoops.

It's not just her fault! Lachlan gets into trouble too! At least /she/ hasn't been tossed into jail yet. Of course, she /has/ been almost shot to death in an alleyway. And almost exploded. But none of those were her fault! "I'll try." She's not about to lie to him. "I'm not about to go looking for it." But, it goes without saying that if Elena or anyone of their friends gets in deep with something like that again, she's not going to hesitate to throw herself into the fray to help. The mention of the bleeding again brings more tears to her eyes. "See? You do things like that. Please, Lachlan. Get yourself looked at. You could be bleeding inside of gotten an infection or there could be anything going on and I wouldn't know until I woke up and you'd bled everywhere."

Nonononono nono nonono. No more crying. A brief moment of panic passes over Lachlan and he's quick to go back to being reassuring and comforting. "A'righ', a'righ', okay, I will. Shh. S'a'righ'." Just … just don't cry anymore. It's kinda heartbreaking. And he would rather not wake up bleeding everywhere, because that would be very traumatizing for both of them.

The tears mostly stop welling up in her eyes, but Cass can't stop thinking about the shooting and the explosion and everything that has happened. Everything is so terrifying that she can't help it. Finally, she starts to wipe at her eyes and face to try and remove all evidence that she was ever so weepy. "Okay. Good. Thanks. I just…" can't bear to look at him hurting and shot any more.

"S'a'righ'." It is, really, see? He'll go to the mean doctor lady with her needles and no-lollipops and he'll get all stitched up and checked out. Everything's fine! Lachlan dips his head again to place a kiss on the top of Cass' head, then pulls back just enough to cup her face between both hands and use his thumbs to help wipe away the tear trails. "Look, I'm gonna get a shower. Ye wanna come?" It sounds like an invitation for an actual shower, not the sort of shower in which no showering really happens.

"I know. I know." And she does know that it's alright. For now. Who knows what else is going to happen while that boss is still out on the loose and who knows what else is going on. However, for now, everything is alright. There's a weak smile for Lachlan's kind and loving gesture to wipe away her tears and then she gives a quick nod. "Yeah. That sounds good." Because lord knows she could use one to get all the dust and grime and everything off of her.

Well that settles it. Because Lachlan's covered in his fair share of dust, grime, and blood, and a shower's a quick way to wash out his wound too. So with a grin and another kiss, this time to her lips, he puts his uninjured arm around Cass' shoulders and moves off toward the bathroom. Besides, having an extra person in there will guarantee that he doesn't drop off from exhaustion while still under the spray.

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