milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Very bad. Should punish you with how bad it is." But he's only joking.

And it's a full on smirk now.

"You got someone to take care of your arm properly, I trust."

"Hospital," Parker smiles. "I hear that they're good at this kind of thing."

"Is that so? I wouldn't know."

He'd probably only go to the hospital when he died. "I always had one of the others patch me up."

"Longbaugh gets... irritated when he has to dig too much glass out of me."

Parker doesn't say that glass is what holds the worst memories for both of them. Glass and sand made them both a little unsteady.

His brows furrow.

"Ali did get rather bothered at the large amount of splinters he had to remove after..."

His own gaze flicks to the side and he shivers.

"Splinters?" Parker doesn't miss the shiver. He's in a pushing mood today.

And Lawrence is in a self-depricating mood today. So he continues.

"I imagine they picked it up from the mongolians. It's quite easy to imbed bamboo or wooden splinters beneath the nails - fingers and toes. Many, many splinters fit."

"That..." Parker leans over and without thinking, picks up Lawrence's hand. Pressing his lips to each individual fingertip he says, "Pain."

He lets the hand go.

His lips quirk even though ... well, he appreciates it.

"Pipes," He replies, calmly, "Are worse, I should think. Have you ever had the bones in your feet broken, Parker?"

Hey, you wanted to talk about it? He'll talk about it.

Parker raises his eyebrows. "Not intentionally."

"It's worse while you're standing." He offers, helpfully. "Your feet between the metal pipe and the concrete floor. They hold you up, of course."

He shakes his head, rubbing his throat thoughtfully and then getting a cigarette out, lighting it easily and offering Parker one.

Parker takes it, smokes, and watches. He listens, and as always, his attention is completely on Lawrence. Listening is sometimes active for him.

"It's the bruising, I think, that makes it worse. Or perhaps having to 'walk it off' afterward. I never could tell, even if they did it more than once."

Bruises on top of bruises on top of nothing because there wasn't anything left. And then? A change of topic is in order.

"How, praytell, did you injure yourself?"

Parker accepts the change with a tilt of his head. "I jumped through a window and onto some very hard pavement."

"That is stupid." He smiles a hair and shakes his head.

"And that's the worst of the damage? You are a lucky young man, Parker."

"Couple of fractured ribs," Parker shrugs. "And I am lucky man. You doubt it?"

"I do not doubt it in the least, my dear boy."

He arches a brow. "You have gotten those taken care of as well, I trust."

"Hospital," Parker says again. "They put me on a lot of good meds. Cute nurses." He grins.

"How wonderful for you, then. I'm sure you're eager to get back?"

He laughs, however, and takes another slow drag of his smoke. He might be watching Parker out of the corner of his eye, the mildest bit concerned.

Parker watches, mimics. Watching Lawrence smoke feels like watching something personal, sometimes.

"Not really," Parker says. "Fleeing from the law is never something you want to get back to."

Sometimes it is personal.

He pauses, thinking. "Then you should stay here for a bit. The authorities tend to forget."

A smile.

Parker smokes for a second, exhales. "I can't leave my partner there, all alone."

"I didn't mean forever. Simply until your arm is healed up properly."

Duh.

Parker smiles, a light joke, because otherwise he'd snap at the idea of leaving Longbaugh alone at all.

"I think that even that would be too long."