2019-10-08 - Adventures in MurderSitting II

"GRAAHHHH!"

Normally Easton is much more stoic than this, and quiet too but the frustration of the last few weeks has worn him down enough that he can't quietly change his bandages like he planned. He shoves his discarded tanktop in his mouth to try and not wake Baylee. He sits on the toilet, his crutches leaning against the wall as he peels the old bandages off, every awkward movement painful. He stops to take a break, spitting the shirt onto his lap and taking deep breaths. He picks up the bottle of whiskey off the sink, still complete with bendy straw courtesy of Aidan, and takes a sip.

It doesn't seem to work, however. Because soon enough, Baylee is at the door to the bathroom, an unlit cigarette hanging from her mouth and a groogy look on her face. "You know, we could help you with this shit if you just asked us for the help." It's meant to be the kind offer of a friend, but probably comes across more cranky than anything.

"But it's so much more fun to do it myself."

Easton looks up from his seat on the toilet and offers a weak, tired smile. He has actually slept some over the last few days, one of the side benefits of having people watching over him. And he does actually look a little better than when he came, his wounds are healing fine, the flu symptoms are all gone and he's gotten his coloring back. That's all balanced out by the fact that he's drinking like a fish and popping oxy like candy to stay as out of it as he can.

"Sorry to wake you up."

"Is it?"

Baylee gives him a look, one brow lifting before she brings a lighter up to the cigarette to light it, "So, you're an idiot. You're going to do more damage doing this fucking shit yourself." She tucks the lighter into the pocket of her jeans, a hand reaching up to pull the cigarette from her mouth, "No need to be sorry. Probably should have been up already...So...I talked to Bennie."

Dressed now in just his tiny PT shorts Easton gives a soft cough of amusement at the question. "No. It's not." He gives a shrug of agreeing that he is in fact an idiot but it also manages to communicate that he is probably going to still do it anyway.

So...I talked to Bennie.

Easton's face crunches into frown. "Is she okay?" His jaw clenches as he tries to not get frustrated as he asks, "Actually okay, not fake cheery Bennie okay."

"Not sure. She wasn't deflecting as hard as the first time, but she needed money." Baylee flicks ashes onto the ground, because she gives currently zero fucks about the floor in the murder motel. "But she said it was so that she could take the time off."

There is a shrug that goes along with all that, and it's an only semi-helpful kind of response. One that she seems to know is unhelpful. "She's got her shit together for the moment, so get through this crap, and you can get back to fixing things. Which might be easier than you think."

"Crap. I can cover it." The money he means. And not just because he feels guilty as hell, though that certainly doesn't hurt. He meant it when he said he would cover her when she had to take time off for the flu. "And I'll pay you guys back for all this shit too." By which he means the motel, etc.

"Yea. Well I wish I didn't need a babysitter so you guys could go check on her instead." Not that he hasn't been asking everyone he knows in this entire town to do that, but it still isn't enough. At talk of fixing things he just shakes his head, "Bay. I don't have it in me to think about that right now. We still have to do this funeral shit, which.. involves everyone who is sealing him giving up something personal to send this fucker on his way."

"She asked for it as an advance on her pay checks." Baylee shakes her head, "And I'm not worried about the money, Easton. I keep trying to give her money for that shit..." By that shit being the debt.

"Personal?" That is something that gets her attention, and there is the very faintest frown that comes along with that sudden focus. "Like, I've got to give up my favorite food kind of stuff?"

Oh right, Easton forgot about the fact that technically Baylee is Bennie's boss. Or one of her fifteen bosses at least. Easton shakes his head and says, "Yea.." Because that's exactly what Bennie needs on top of everything else, low-life violent debt collectors. Something in his eyes goes hard as the thoughts bubble up about just what he would like to do to those people. He clenches his fists and tries to hold that back.

Her question about the funeral brings him back. "I don't know. But, you don't need to.. I'm involved because my whackadoo uncle dug his body up. Thanks Uncle Monty, nice choice. Fucknut. But it has to be something tangible that has some meaning."

But he can't shake the thought of tracking down the people responsible for harassing Bennie. If anyone deserved a little murder... just a little murder.

"Tangible. With meaning." Baylee doesn't look like she has an actual answer to it, might be because she doesn't know what would be important to him, or count as tangible. A thing? It seems to be a thing that has her distracted for a moment as she smokes the cigarette, then she moves towards the counter in the bathroom, hoping up on the counter.

"Right...fuck, good luck?"

The intense flexing of his jaw continues as Easton lets himself entertain such thoughts. He lets his mind go down the path. What would he need to do? What are the steps he would take? How good would it feel to look into their eyes as he slices across their throat.

"Sorry, could you bandage me up?"

He realizes there was a question there and he shrugs, "Yea, I already have it sorted for me. It's .. some of Tom's old stuff I've been hanging onto." Does she know about Tom? His ghost? He can't remember but he doesn't bother explaining. "I'm hoping it's enough."

He's also hoping he can figure out a way to get his leg back. Huh. That's funny, he can sense it.. He can get his mind around it.

Act casual.

"Brother?" Noooope. Baylee doesn't appear to know anything at all about Tom, or who he is.

When he asks if she can rebandage him she slides off the counter, moving over to where he's sitting on the toilet. She holds her cigarette out to him, waiting for him to take it before she reaches for the bandages so that she can start bandaging him up. Any and all murderous intents are missed, because she's just that clueless. "When is the funeral again? Day or two away?"

Taking the cigarette and placing it in his lips, he half-agrees, "From another mother. Marine buddy who died." He doesn't need to get into ghosts right now. Maybe some other time he'll explain about Tom haunting him. If it 'works'? It will be past tense. If not, well maybe she can just meet Banks herself.

"Soon, yea. Someone's building a casket, other people are finding a place to bury him."

And he needs to do it before then. He can take care of this for her. And who could blame him?

Realizing that he can feel the leg, means other things. What about his knife? What about his guns? He lets his reach wander across town now, urged on by something he should be keeping in check.

When he points out that it is a Marine she nods, leaving that subject there. Because this is certainly not the time and place to be asking about subject like 'so, how'd your bestie die?'. Instead she wraps up him up like a demented mummy, keeping it quiet for the moment.

At least until she's done getting him bandaged, and she can take a few steps back, "So, not sure what you're trying to do, but knock it off, or I'm going to wash several of your pills down with the rest of the bottle, and wake you up in a few days."

Letting his powers roam over his apartment. As Baylee completes the wrap job, Easton can't quite suppress the smile that creeps up the corner of his lips when he feels the gun safe in his apartment pop open. He lets his mental fingers run over each every one of his ladies. Yes, he'd prefer the knife but there might be enough of them to make that troublesome, better to be prepa-..

Oh. She noticed.

He looks up at her and says, "What was the name in the notebook again? Come on Baylee. Let me take care of this. I'll be in and out and won't leave a trace and then she's free." He knows he's not going to be much of a match for her without his leg on, even if he gets up on his crutches he's in trouble. Maybe he can talk her into it?

"You haven't seen what they did to her family. She's been barely surviving. I could give her her life back."

"No." Baylee shakes her head, leaning her shoulder against the door, arms crossing over her chest, "Bennie would be upset...because your dumbass would be putting yourself at risk. I'm not going to have her get pissed at me because of it."

There is a very slight shake of her head, and it's fairly clear that she's actually sorry that her answer is no. Like she might wish that she could handle it herself. Afterall, she is the one that kept trying to fix this early on.

"Why the hell would she know anything about it? They're bad people, bad things happen to bad people. Especially in a place like this. Fuck, I'll just dump the bodies in the veil.." The thought comes to him easily, where better to stash some bodies than another realm that only very few can purposefully enter. "They'll just have disappeared one day. Poof."

"Come on Bay. You know this is the way to end this." He stands up and pulls a crutch under his arm. He's not a match for her like this and he knows it. Curse his preplanning! But if he can just get by her, keep talking.

Does she have a chance against him? A real chance?

Baylee seems to be weighing the options, and she shakes her head very slowly at him, "No, Easton. Just no. Don't make me lay your ass out, because I will...and I'd rather I not have to potentially add any brain damage on top of all this because I bashed your skull in. But you guys are too important for me to not risk it if you push me on this."

"Come on" Easton nearly growls through gritted teeth at her. "Let me go take care of this." Never mind that he only has a nebulous idea of who ought to be kill, that's irrelevant. There's murder to be done! He takes an awkward crutched step towards her, as if he's going to try and exit the bathroom.

"No. And I'm not going to change my mind, Easton. You are not leaving here." Baylee straightens up, shaking her head at him with a frown, "You asked us to come murder sit you, and I'm not going to break a promise. I've broken enough of those in my life already."

"Get out of my way." Easton may not have his prosthetic leg on but what he does have is a lot of hours spent on crutches to draw upon. He manages to smoothly slide past her, out of the bathroom. He's a man on a mission. He gets about as far as the main room before he stops and concentrates on trying to get his leg, which has been relocated to the van.. which is not here. But oh well, he's going out anyway, even if he has to do this on crutches (totally reasonable plan!) So he heads for the door, crutching along.

More reasonable plans seem to be the effort that Baylee puts into trying to rip those crutches right out from under Easton, quite literally. Very literally. And he can feel it, it's not subtle, that sudden wrench of those crutches from where Baylee is far, far away. But you know what that means, right? It means that Easton is a punk that won't let her win.

Easton feels the pull on the crutches. He pushes back. He extends his reach to the shake off her control. Still with her cigarette in his mouth from earlier he turns to smile at her, "Maybe I chose the wrong people to stop me." Yes, it's a dick thing to say but he's feeling a little frustrated that she won't see reason, MURDEReason, right now. He opens the door and attempts to 'storm out' as much as one can when on crutches. His backpack is pulled after him, can't forget that.

Yeah, evidently he did! Or something. Baylee is nice, and friendly, and people often forget that she comes armed. Sometimes. It's probably thankfully that no one actually noticed this stuff!

But no, seriously. Baylee warned that she had a taser, only it's the stun gun variety and not the hand held ones that she drags out of the back of her jeans, "Jesus, fuck...Easton." Yeah, she's going to blame everything else for this, but she takes a few steps after him as he heads for the door, enough that she thinks she's in range before she lifts it up and fires.

Opening the door Easton sees her raise the taser in time to twist so that only one of the probes hits. Yes he's only dressed still in the tiny shorts so it hits bare skin and attaches only to be pulled out as he hoofs it out the door. But then he has to try and navigate wet stairs with his crutches, barefoot, with a backpack now on. He's good, but not that good. He slips at the first landing and crashes down, but is able to get back up. He's really set on making this happen though so he keeps crutching.

"Oi.." Baylee ejects the cartridge, storming after Easton so that she can follow for the world's most ludicris chase scene that has ever happened. "How you going to find these fuckers, Easton? Because I don't have a name for them. Not a face...nothing." She is going to try reasoning until she can convince him to talk back to the room on his own, because she probably can't actually carry him up the stairs.

Asshole.

How you going to find them?

That is a great question. But his murder focused mind can come up with plenty of ways. Yes, one involves a blond wig and a sundress but some of them are actually decent! He stops at the bottom of the stairs and looks back up at Baylee. He looks like he might consider stopping.

"If I tell you how I'm going to find them, you will try and stop me."

He is still crutching along.

"Yeah...because your ass doesn't know." Is she trying to piss him off? Might be. She might now just be trying to make things worse, or distract him. These are reasonable things, right?

Either way, she starts to rattle down the stairs after him, moving with a whole lot more speed than Easton probably can manage while on his crutches. Right? Theoretically, at least.

The van is in reasonably decent shape, considering how old it is and how many miles it's driven. It is not, however, what one would consider particularly quiet, and the particular sound of it becomes familiar after a while. So depending how much such sounds are filtering in to anyone's attention, it may or may not be a surprise to anyone involved when Aidan steps into the bottom of the stairwell, carrying a few bags of groceries. It's definitely a surprise to him to see Easton hobbling down them, though, and Baylee behind. "...okay, wait, what?"

Yes. Easton is on crutches, in the rain, barefoot, he's not out running (hobbling) your grandma right now. But he moves with a steady determination. His backpack up on his back, digging into the not so healed wounds on his shoulder and back.

"Baylee, let me do this. I wanted you to make sure I didn't hurt anyone I cared about.. So don't make me hurt you."

To his credit there is actually some amount of threat there despite the fact that he's one-legged, wearing only a tiny pair of shorts in the rain and unarmed. It's just not much of a threat.

Hearing Aidan at the bottom of the stairs causes him to stop for a moment. "shit" He clears his throat and says, "I need to go. Thanks for the help." In his best faux-cheery, yea this is fine, totally normal voice

"Fuck that."

HI AIDAN! Baylee has looked relieved, happy, dopey, and all other kinds of things when Aidan has appeared at times. But none of those looks can compare to the look that she gives him once he steps into the situation. Relief is just the mildest of terms that could be attached to the expression.

"You would be hurting someone if you did that." Not just her, and that implication is clear. "Going and fucking handling Bennie's problem isn't going to help her." It's as clear as she can be without screaming MURDERER for everyone that might be around to hear them.

There are people in town quicker on the uptake than Aidan. Baylee, for one! But he's not dumb, and Easton trying to wander off in that state plus that expression on Baylee plus her remarks on hurting people and Bennie's problem... well, it doesn't actually have to add up to the precise answer to estimate to 'this is probably the kind of thing we're here for'.

He shifts his hold on the groceries, and looks Easton over. "I think anything you're thinking can wait until the time's up," he says, "or you can do it over the phone or it's something I can go handle for you. So let's just go back up to the room and have a snack or something." He lifts a bag slightly, adding more brightly, "There's pop-tarts! And beef jerky. Also some other stuff." Which since he's got multiple bags there, one might hope. "But you asked me to do a thing if someone was gonna get hurt and I'd really kinda rather not." Does that count as a threat? Or just a reminder?

That is by far the friendliest threat that Easton has ever received. He knows what he asked Aidan to do, because he spent a lot of time thinking about how to incapacitate himself. He had them take his leg, locked up his gun, take the knife, but that wasn't for this?! He shakes his head at Aidan and says, "I asked you to stop me from hurting people I care about."

Yes, it's the same line he just said to Baylee and if they're paying attention it's also a threat.

Easton pushes off the stairs with his good leg and is attempting to shoulder tackle / fall on Aidan. Yes, it's going to hurt him a lot, especially injured and on crutches but it's his one shot to actually get past them without Aidan enacting the fallback plan, which is going to hurt A LOT more.

"Fuck....damnit." Baylee was really hoping that Aidan's arrival would just nip this right in the bud, but evidently Easton is just too damn determined to go ahead with this stupidness. So clatters down the stairs, taking them two at a time so that she hits the bottom four stairs just in time for Easton to try tackling Aidan, "Shit..."

There are flashbacks to when Aidan has lit people on fire, and she is seriously waiting to see if Easton is about to burst into flames.

"Nah, you--" Aidan starts, breaking off with a yelp as he's suddenly the target of a guided Easton missile. It is, at least, not the first time someone's thrown themselves at him in not-the-fun-way, and reflexes he thankfully hasn't had to use too much recently turn out not to be entirely rusted as he throws himself out of the way. Into the side of the building, which isn't ideal and kind of spoils any hope for it looking really cool that that world could retain after the yelp, but it does mean he doesn't get bowled over by a former Marine, and that's really all he asks.

"Ow," he remarks, about equal parts wall-pain, surprise, and automatic sympathy for what it feels like to hit the ground hard. There's a flash of anger in there, as well, but he takes a breath and it seems to fade back out with the exhalation. "...nah," he starts again, "you said if you start trying to hurt people. Just people. Not specifically the ones you care about." Not too loud, because... this is a weird conversation, right? Like, people might call some cops kind of weird. But it's firm.

He gives the man a wary look, attempting to hand the bags over to Baylee before he risks offering the guy a hand up. "So we're gonna go back up now, right?" Weirdly, given there's even less direct reference to what he was asked in that phrase, and that he's in the middle of offering to help Easton up, it ends up sounding a little closer to a threat than before.

Hurtling towards Aidan, Easton tries to push the thought of how much he wants to hurt him out of his mind. He doesn't. He doesn't want to smash his pretty face into the ground and knock each of his teeth out. That's Ghoul. Easton just wants to get past him. He just wants to knock him down, get his leg and get out of here. Those thoughts are interrupted by the railing and then the hard concrete ground.

"Gabafluckahdaaaaa"

This is roughly translated from former Marine into, Wow, that hurts a lot more than I was expecting and also I would like to murder a lot of people right now.

And yes, despite the fact that he probably just dislocated his shoulder Easton is attempting to get back on his feet and get his crutches. This is what sheer determined stupidity looks like.

"..Just let me go take care of this..."

He gets to his feet but he can't really go anywhere with his shoulder messed up and on crutches. So he just stands there, trying not to be angry. Trying not to want to hurt Aidan or Baylee right now.

Still would very much like to kill them.

He grasps the railing with his one hand and sends his crutches out to do some murdering. Yup, he's going to try and beat them down with his crutches remotely.

The last few steps are taken, and it looks like Baylee might just try and kick Easton, but Aidan's bag handling has her really distracted. He mentioned poptarts at some point, didn't he?

"I'll bash his head in, and we can tie him to the bed. I've got the zipties in the room." Where they are not helping anyone at the moment. But damn, she at least thought about bringing them, which is more help than if she'd left them by the bed back at the trailer.

The crutches getting sent off gets missed as she starts to rifle through the bags in search of poptarts, moving to give Aidan a kiss and blatantly ignore Murder Easton.

Aidan did in fact mention pop-tarts! They're totally in there, too. Strawberry frosted, because all right-thinking people know those are the best. But also a box of the brown sugar ones, because clearly Easton is not currently best described as 'right-thinking'. Not that he properly appreciated them before...

And Aidan gets a kiss! Things are looking up! But not literally, because if they were, he might notice crutches coming their way to try to bludgeon them before one actually hits him in the head and his startled yelp gets a second airing within five minutes, which seems unreasonable. This time the flash of anger is stronger and doesn't ebb as fast; instead, as he flinches away from them, then straightens and glares at Easton, both crutches crumble to splinters and dust in the air, the particles blown across the stairwell by the wind. It's not subtle. Though flying abusive crutches maybe aren't too high on that chart either.

"What the fuck, man! Come on!" Baylee gets a small nod, which might be in favour of the whole plan, or maybe just the ziptie portion, because Aidan himself is closing the distance again, and grabbing Easton's shoulder. "Come on," he says again, a little more calmly, "This isn't gonna start sucking less the longer it lasts."

The first crutch strike hits and Easton is ready to press the 'advantage' by pushing them against their throats and choking them against the wall. Because he just wants to choke them out a little. Okay maybe a lot. Baylee gets a baseball bat swing of a crutch to the head before it comes back to pin her throat. Thankfully Easton had no idea that Aidan could disintegrate things. He just stares as his crutches turn to dust and blow away.

As Aidan approaches him, there is a warning look in Easton's eye. He knocks the hand away and takes a swing with the other at Aidan's face. But, he's on one foot and so even if the blow lands he's falling down to one knee afterwards.

"Get the fuck out of my way Aidan."

Being assaulted with crutches was not on her Bucket List. Not even close, and she arguably has a pretty fucked up bucket list. So it catches her entirely off guard when it happens, her arms raising. Which causes those bags to swing, reminding her that in all this she's got weapons, and Easton is a one-legged gimp.

"Fuck you, Easton." She probably doesn't mean it, not really. But when Easton swings at Aidan, and goes down on his one good knee she moves, swinging one of the bags of groceries straight for Easton in the hopes of bludgening him into unconciousness with poptart boxes.

Aidan used up his dodge, apparently, or he just didn't expect quite that, because yup, that blow lands. Might not be as solid a blow as Easton'd hoped, but it's solid enough, turning Aidan's head sharply and making him take an automatic step back as his hand comes up to the impact point. He'd intended to try to use as little force as absolutely necessary, he really had, but in that moment the anger boils over, silent this time, and it's not the more recent 'tasing' discovery that comes out but the old familiar welling up of spirit, already primed from the crutches. On the upside, Easton does not at this time find himself on fire. On the downside, that one good knee ceases to be well-described that way, the leg refusing to support him any further with a sickening crack.

Blocking the bag of groceries with a an angry swat of his good arm Easton growls at Baylee, "Oh fuck you too!" The poor defenseless poptars spill out of the bag onto the ground, though thankfully they stay boxed. They're still good. Easton is in the midst of trying to get back up with the help of the railing when CRACK

"BAGFH!"

There is no known translation for this word, but it's roughly equivalent to 'Why did I tell him to do that? Holy shit that hurts!'

And down goes Easton. To the ground and he's not getting back up again. He rolls on the ground yelling, not in anger or murder!rage just intense pain that thankfully drowns out the rest. He can't even think straight let alone concentrate to do much at this point. He's done.

Honestly, Baylee should stop with the assault, because anyone walking past them right now really would call the cops, and she's the only one that is visibly doing anything. But she doesn't, because now that Easton is rolling around on the ground she's getting her revenge in with a few more swings of what is left in the bag, "Asshole."

Honestly, she'll feel bad about this when he's not trying to kill everyone. But right now she's just tired, sober, and needing an outlet for all the irritation. Thankfully, it doesn't last, and she stops, huffing a breath before she blows a strand of hair from her face, "Stay down." Because Aidan'll kick his ass other wise!

She glares, then moves to pick the poptarts up, shoving them back into the bag before she grabs for Easton's arms, "Grab his legs." This last part is said to Aidan, "I need a drink, fuck."

Aidan winces at the sound of the crack AND at the pained yells that understandably follow, managing to look angry and apologetic at the same time for a moment, which is kind of a neat trick. "Dammit," he mutters, hand leaving his still-sore jaw to run roughly through his curls, and then he leans down to pick up a few shreds of the crutches, shoving them in a pocket.

"I got some coffee things," he says, moving in toward the legs and giving them an uncertain look. How does one carry a guy up stairs by his legs when you just broke one of them? Well-- above the break, presumably. Which means he ends up kind of standing between Easton's thighs, with an arm wrapped around each of them, and that is definitely not quite what he expected of the day. But it should, at least, probably work. If the guy doesn't squirm too much. "...and soda. Coke and something strawberry." Yes, he knows that isn't the kind of drink she means.

Easton's only wearing the tiny shorts so he and Aidan are far closer than either of them expected to be right now. But Easton's in too much pain to even joke about it, especially as they start to heft him up. He groans out another nonsensical noise. It was supposed to be an apology and asking them for the percocet in his bag, but it comes out more like some sort of dying animal noise.

He deserves it, honestly. Baylee is entirely unsympathetic to the pain the man is in as she starts for the stairs to head back to the room. Although Aidan is wonderful, and she might actually like a soda at some point, it's not what she wants. He knows it, she knows it, and she knows he knows it. Which is probably what the look is for. But she's attempting to stay on the right side of sobriety, so doesn't say anything about it.

Aidan knows she knows he knows it, too, which may be why the look doesn't get much reaction. Or, you know, it might be hauling a wounded dude who probably weighs as much as either of them up a flight of intermittently wet motel stairs, which is somewhat distracting. He is, however, less unsympathetic than Baylee right now despite the ache in his jaw, and there's a murmured, "Sorry," in there along the way. Dying animal noises are sad. It's hard not to feel a little bit guilty. ...even if Easton DID kinda deserve it. Mostly.

Easton is not tall. At all. But he's bulky. He weighs over 190, even without the leg, so it's no small task to drag his injured ass up the stairs and presumably on to the bed. He tries to at least not scream out in pain, maybe preserve some dignity? But he isn't fighting back or yelling at them or trying to let them go murder people any more so that's good.

He totally deserved it. Either way, once back in the room there is at least percocet and alcohol given before she gets out the zipties. He deserves this, too. That way Baylee isn't as inclined to beat him over the head with a grocery bag.

Could be worse! Could be trying to suffocate him with one. They even have a warning on them about that! Although not generally involving Baylee. Aidan is tall but not all that bulky, and quite possibly makes a mental note to start working out more or something at least once on the way up the stairs. He puts Easton down on the bed as gently as he can manage once they're there, but it requires a certain amount of wrangling and probably isn't going to go on Easton's list of Best Times, all the same.

There's alcohol and percoset, though. Even if that might not be entirely the recommended combination. Hey, they're there to watch him, right? Aidan watches the drugs, as well, keeping an eye on where they end up, but quite soon everything's so much calmer. The bits of crutch emerge, laid down on the other bed while Baylee handles the zipties, and he focuses on them for several moments, eyes closed as he brings their original form to mind. It'd actually be weirder to see than the disintegration, if the others weren't probably distracted; it's not that the original bits fly back into place, but like the bits he retained just grow the parts that are gone out of nowhere. By the time the restraints are properly in place, the crutches are lying on the bed as though they'd never been touched.

It would probably have been smarter, really, to do the healing on Easton first. Hopefully Baylee wasn't too rough and the drugs were doing their thing! But maybe it's been a sort of warm-up, because when Aidan comes over to gingerly set his hands against the broken leg, the warmth that flows out of them and into the flesh is more striking than usual, flowing quick and hot throughout the body as if carried through the veins. The leg bone knits, the shoulder resettles itself, the wounds from angry Dream werewolves heal, even the stump of the lost leg feels oddly warm and alive for a few moments there. It's the broken leg Aidan's got his focus on, though, and he gives a relieved sigh when it obligingly rights the damage he'd caused it, scarcely seeming to notice any of the rest. "Okay," he says, giving a small, satisfied nod, and the ties get a quick extra check as he stands, in case it dislodged them any. Looks good enough, apparently. "Okay," he says again, brushing his hands off on his jeans and glancing around, "...where'd we put those pop-tarts?"