[PRP] Call Me, Beep Me (Chester & Preacher)

[The Semblance of Unity]

She stirred some time later as the first drops of a cold rain hit her face. Groaning, Preacher pulled out her phone. The bright light hurt her eyes, but whatever, it had a charge. Painstakingly, and one-handedly, she began to text

smerdle

Text to: Bester Chester
cm get me thnik im @ wester n pitchroad st.
meybe
im tired its cld

She slipped her phone back into her pocket. It was time to try and get her shoulder back in place. The process was never as easy as television made it out to be, especially when she already felt like s**t. Gritting her teeth, she set about things.  

[Smerdle]

It wasn't weird to get a text from Preacher, not even in the middle of the night. Chester didn't hesitate to answer it even so, taking only a few seconds to finish marking something in his notebook before reaching for his phone.

He might have thought she was drunk had he not known her better, but since he was reasonably sure that wasn't the case, it made the situation rather more urgent. As much as he didn't want to admit it, she would only be tired and cold and need him to come get her if there was something wrong.

The Semblance of Un!ty

Text to: Preacher
I'm coming.

He grabbed a hoodie he rarely wore anymore and called a cab, since he doubted he could get them both home on his bike. Within twenty minutes it was idling on Pitchroad and Chester was hurrying up the block in the rain.  

[The Semblance of Unity]

She'd managed to do it, more or less. It still hurt like a ******** b***h, so Preacher stayed seated, debating if she felt up to inching her way down to street level. Chester was coming; he said he'd would, so it would be fine. No, no, he'd miss her, even if he was looking.

Slowly, she stood and wrote in tall, dramatically yellow letter. OVER HERE. Satisfied, she slumped back over to the wall. When she heard footsteps, she looked up, trying to see who it was. "Hey!" Except it came out rough and barely loudly than a whisper. Her throat was not well pleased with the abuse it had been through. Huffing out a breath, Preacher kicked a tin can. It skittered into a puddle. She abruptly realized she likely looked awful, like a drowned rat.

smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

He barely heard the can over the steady sound of the rain, though he wouldn't have missed her message had he gotten very much farther. Chester hurried toward the glowing sign, his steps growing steadily faster the closer to the little pile of Preacher he got.

"Can you stand?" Not are you okay? because the answer would be yes, with a fifty percent chance of a glare. He crouched, offering his hand, but he was close enough to lift her as well, though he didn't offer that either. "There's a cab waiting, so you don't have to go far."

There would be time to ask questions later. Like where the thing that had done this had gone.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

She blinked up at him for a few seconds. It was kind of hard to believe that he'd just... come. That he hadn't just ignored her text or gone 'oh, Preacher - she'll be fine' or called someone else to clean up the mess that she was. It was a weird feeling. She reached out her hand for his, then paused and switched to her other hand, slowly, creakingly, getting up.

"M'shoulder got dislocated," she said, her voice raspy and soft. Preacher bet she had all kinds of ridiculous bruises around her neck - probably on her back and face, too. Ugh. "Dint do nothin' to m'legs." She patted her pocket. Good, she'd remembered the pen.

It was kind of humiliating, but she found herself leaning heavily on Chester as they walked, feeling drained.

smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

Chester helped her to the car as quickly as she could go, holding out the dry hoodie he'd left in the back as he climbed in opposite her. He could see the driver's sour face in the rear view mirror as he requested a round trip, but he didn't feel more than a passing blip of guilt. It wasn't like Preacher was bleeding profusely and if the man hadn't wanted rainwater on his seats, he shouldn't have come out in the rain.

"Do you want to go to the doctor?" he asked quietly once they were moving. A dislocated shoulder could theoretically be taken care of without one, but the amount of bruising he had already seen by her neon light outside could have been indicative of any number of more serious injuries.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

Preacher struggled half-way into the hoodie before giving up. She didn't want to try forcing her arm into the sleeve, and wiggling about too much just kind of hurt. The hoodie was dry (For now) at least, and warm. She was, however, damp to her skin.

"I'll go to tha doctor if I feel shittier tomorrow. I jus' wanna go back to tha house for now." Preacher exhaled noisily. She could tell the cab driver was giving her a look, but where normally that would get them flipped off, right now she didn't really care. "I dunno whatall is needin' it, but can ya help me with the first aid s**t?" ********, her throat hurt. Slumping over, she plopped her head on Chester's shoulder. They'd be back soon, she thought.

smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

"Mmhm," he replied. "I will." He didn't know much serious first aid, but he knew enough about how to care for sports injuries and wrap bandages and down painkillers to be of some use.

He was silent for most of the ride after that, glancing back and forth between the rainy window beside him and what he could see of Preacher without craning his neck and making it obvious he was looking. Once they pulled up in front of the house, he nudged her as gently as he could.

"I'm going to pay."

Chester leaned forward and did so in a silent exchange, then got out of the car and came around to her side.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

"'Kay. I'll pay ya back 'nother time." It was a testament to her state that she didn't immediately insist on paying herself. By the time he'd circled around, she'd popped open the door and was awkwardly scooting out. Really awkwardly.

Preacher sighed and glanced up at him as she inched into the house. "M'not normally this much of a shitshow. Fell like ya only get my bad sides..." In the brighter light of the house, it was easier to see the bruises circling her neck and the large one blossoming across her cheek, with a split lip to accompany it.

smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

This was definitely not the sort of situation she needed to be paying him back for, but he wasn't going to waste his breath telling her so. He had plenty of other things to talk about, topics that he refused to discuss in front of some guy he didn't know. Once they were alone, however...

He managed to not slam the door outright as they stepped inside, but the resulting bang was louder than it needed to be. Chester locked it behind him and moved to stand in Preacher's path, staring down each of her bruises in turn but keeping his hands to himself.

"Who did this to you?"

What the darkness outside had also failed to reveal was that Chester was pissed.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

She instinctively flinched away from the anger in Chester's face, in his voice, her hands rising up a bit. Then she forced them back down, although she still found herself backing up. It was fine; it was just him. And she couldn't very well punch him out of reflex.

Preacher swallowed, the movement causing her to wince. "Some guy what looked like Kuroda did it - if I'da been better, it wouldn't be so bad. Sorry." She looked down at the floor, watching his feet.

smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

He noticed her reaction right away—how could he not?—but it wasn't until her unnecessary apology that he realized he hadn't simply startled her. This was something else, something that he didn't fully understand but he certainly hadn't meant.

Chester crumpled a bit, still towering over her even with his shoulders hunched. His anger had already mostly passed confusion and was well on its way to guilt by the time he spoke again.

"I'm... sorrier," he said, his smile strained. "I didn't mean to imply that this was somehow your fault, I just... you should sit. I should get you a towel and aspirin and... what do you want me to do?" He knew he shouldn't be the one needing anything in this scenario, but he found himself wanting her to look at him again anyway.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

She breathed shallowly, but slowly. Chester's tone changed and she immediately felt like s**t. Preacher hadn't... she hadn't meant to... Slowly, she peeked up at him. "Y'ain't got anythin' to be sorry 'bout, guero."

Preacher wanted to sleep, but she needed to assess what had been done. "I gotta text m'boss. I gotta... can ya get me a plastic baggie? I stabbed tha dude in the hand with a pen n' it might still have blood onnit." She swayed a little; all of the adrenaline was gone. "Also I need ya eyes - I can't see m'back, but it hurts..."

smerdle

 

[Smerdle]

"Yes. I'll be right back." Chester hesitated for a second then hurried off to grab the baggie she'd requested, fairly confident that despite the swaying, she wouldn't fall to the floor during the thirty seconds he was gone. When he returned, he hovered nearby, awaiting her next instructions. He might have just started outwardly examining her, but doing anything at all without Preacher being well aware of it seemed like a bad idea at the moment.

"Here you go." He held out the bag.

The Semblance of Unity

 

[The Semblance of Unity]

She dropped the pen inside the bag, sealed it, and set it on a small end-table near the couch. "Poor pen," she murmured. It had been one of her favorites. Then Preacher moved towards the couch, struggling to get the hoodie off as she went. It was flopped gracelessly over the couch's arm.

Preacher sat down, cross-legged and sideways. "Can ya look at m'back? Feels on fire. N' do we have anythin' for throats? Hurts like a b***h."

smerdle