the doctor is in

Seth should’ve known that this was coming. He’d been wondering for the last few days when Damian would find out through the town loop that Seth was the new President of the Trojans. Like it or not— the pair were joined together by blood, something that even the Club doesn’t actually have in common with Seth and that aligience means that Damian will always be his problem, no matter what. Whether he was copping another unneeded attitude that was about to get his ass knocked out or not, Seth wasn’t gonna leave his drunk ass at some dingey bar. “Sounds like you’re fuckin’ crying, asshole,” he replied, finally, deciding to subtly reach for the glass to little avail when he acts as if he was just placing his hand on the bar, hoping his brother won’t notice. “You’re always my fuckin’ problem and right now, you’re startin’ to become’a big one,” Seth sighed, rubbing a thumb and forefinger to either temple. 

While he isn’t sure how to take the ‘congratulations’– was it a joke or was it an actual congratulations— Seth just nods, “Yeah, yeah. Sure. Next time, you should try that with some more meaning or you’re never gonna get that job on fuckin’ Days of Our Lives.” Admittedly, Damian is one of the people in the town that should know best how badly that his brother wanted to be the president of a MC. He’d wanted it since he joined at eighteen, prospecting and then shortly thereafter, getting carted off to prison. It’s not something he’s sure that Damian is incredibly proud of but Seth knew that at least Damian could understand that this was his peak in his career. While Damian’s peak lingered somewhere around becoming a doctor or moving on to become a decorated surgeon, it certainly wasn’t comparable but Seth was probably just as proud as Damian had been when he’d finished. “No one’s fuckin’ dyin’ around here, ‘kay? And that was your last fuckin’ drink. I forgot how much of a fuckin’ idiot you are drunk. You’re not even a fun drunk, Damian. No one likes a pretentious drunk, no one.”

“Spell pretentious,” Damian challenged under his breath before draining the last of his drink. It was hard to tell what of Seth’s speech was stress verses what was just the normal tone he took with his brother. And, to be honest, Damian immediately understood that his being drunk and in a bad mood was about as unhelpful as he could possibly be. Just like Seth had claimed him as a problem, his little brother would always be his.

He placed the empty glass back down on the counter top, pushing it away from him as he turned to face his brother with the straightest face he could manage. “I do mean it, yanno?” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s not my favorite thing in the world, I’ll admit. But, you’ve earned it so, congratulations.” Despite everything between them, no one could ever accuse Damian of not loving his brother. It just manifested itself in ways that were often undetectable.

@docdcarter​

Ramina had sat for what seemed like hours in that run down bathroom in the grocery store, staring at the small pile of positive tests she’d racked up. A baby? How could this have happened? She was certain she’d been careful. Fuck. Anxiety had set in quickly, every thought under the sun running through her mind. Just like her mother, wasn’t she? Getting knocked up with the baby of a man who she was explicitly not in a romantic relationship with. At least Damian was still here, though. He wasn’t long gone like her father, a man who wouldn’t even know he’d fathered a child. But would he continue to be here? Once she told him would he be mad? Would he think she was trying to trap him or something of that sort? 

But despite all the negative thoughts in her mind, there was the smallest kernel of excitement in her core. A baby. Someone that would be family. All she’d ever had was her mother, and that had been…not the most conventional of relationships. But now— there was someone that was her’s. And perhaps someone she belonged to as well. She wanted it. The realization had startled her, and also scared her a little, and she also knew that it meant she had to tell Damian what had occurred. So she’d sent him as casual a text as she could, asking if she could come over ASAP. Her nerves wouldn’t let her hold in the news any longer.

As she knocked on the door, her voice began calm, calling his name and asking if he was home. But there was the smallest bit of urgency in it, her worry mounting the longer she went without telling him about the baby, about the life growing inside her. “Damian, are you there?” There was the errant thought that she’d break down the door if she had to, so worked up was she.

He didn’t like this pattern that he’d fallen into. It felt too much like a cry for help for him to ever be entirely comfortable in it. Damian had worked an overnight, his third this week, dragged his ass home, eaten dinner (or breakfast?), and fallen asleep watching Rogue One for the fifth time since he’d shelled out for Disney Plus. And with the afternoon sun creeping though his blinds, Damian was only starting to wake up.

Everything seemed to be happening too much and too often, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something even bigger was barreling towards him. Still, he put on his doctor face and went to work every day, more than happy to ignore the looming anxiety of more casualties to come their way. His feet fell hard on the floor, his back stiff from the uncomfortable position he’d managed to twist himself into. He should go for a run or swing by the gym, he told himself, but the drowsy fog that held him had other plans. Dragging himself into the kitchen, Damian settled on coffee instead.

He shoved the basket into the machine and hit the on button just as he heard a knock on the door and Ramina’s very soft voice creep through the cracks. He couldn’t tell immediately, but something seemed off as he padded through the dining room and to the front door. It was weird that she hadn’t called first, right? But, as always, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw her. “Might as well get you a key,” he laughed as he swung the door open. He couldn’t imagine himself possibly looking more disheveled than he did now, with is messed up hair and threadbare white t-shirt. But he tried to ignore that for now.

Hearing Damian’s voice now closer, Seth knew instinctively that his older brother was drunk and maybe was a bit on edge with the news going around town. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best news that Kane had been murdered and with the overdoses that Seth is sure Damian saw a lot of, Seth could understand the drinking. The Carter brothers had always been so very different from one another and while Seth might be the most rough around the edges, there’s no doubt in his mind that Damian is the softest of the three. At least, when it came to this shit. Sometimes, Seth wished Damian never came back and maybe not only for his own selfish reasons (he didn’t like feeling like he should be guilty or ashamed about his lifestyle) but also for Damian’s own mental health. The world out there wasn’t quite like Olympus. Olympus was a vortex that sucked all of the good out of people and spit them back out like mutant creatures who just murdered each other endlessly. Still, it was Seth’s life and it’s the one he chose long ago. 

“You say potato, I say heart attack,” Seth smirked, eyeing the glass in Damian’s hand. He was tempted to swat at it to get it out of his brother’s hand. He’d clearly had enough but there was no reason to cause a scene at a bar that neither of them owned. With the death of Kane and the election of Seth, the Dive was now Seth’s responsibility per Kane’s will, something that he hadn’t actually wanted— the Club was enough— but he took it on anyway. There’d be a few changes around the location anyway to adapt it to the needs of the town but that was somewhere between dragging his drunk brother home and protecting Emmeline and now… being president. “You done, asshole?” he asked, pursing his lips at the smoking comment. It’d been sixteen years since he picked up a cigarette thanks to becoming a father. Now, he was more content with drinking.

“Think it might be time for you to take a break on the… drinkin’, lightweight,” he sighed, raising an eyebrow at the man’s glass. “I got bigger shit goin’ on than you cryin’ about the fact that you moved back to a town with a bunch’a fuckin’ criminals.” Sure, their parents wouldn’t be too proud of Seth Carter running a strip club, a Motorcycle Club and still killing on the side… but at least they’d be proud of Seth trying to be a good little brother.

“Who’s cryin’,” Damian asked, leaning all his weight on the arm draped across the edge of the counter. The brand new and shiny “President” patch was unmistakable, even in the shitty bar lighting. Damian nodded towards it, the index finger wrapped around his glass jutting out to point. “Looks like you inherited a whole heap of shit on your plate,” he pointed out. “Good thing you’re not my president. Means I’m not your problem, right?”

Even if he hadn’t noticed the patch, even with the light fog that surrounded his brain, Damian had noticed something different about Seth the moment he’d laid eyes on him. Maybe his walk was different. Maybe his shoulders were just a little straighter. Maybe the patch made him puff out his chest just a little more than usual.

Or maybe Damian was just drunk. It was hard to tell which. 

Seth couldn’t help but overhear his older brother from afar, his voice cutting through his peaceful night. He’d been sitting in the bar, nursing a beer, thinking over this whole President business. The Trojans needed a leader and he’d been the only one to step up, however, now, he had to make a plan. Did he avenge Kane? Did he leave well enough alone, let the Primordials have their laughs and go? The Primordials hadn’t make a pass at the drug supply this time but that would be the inevitable turn of events if they continued to poke the bear. Maybe for the time being, the Club sat back, licked its wounds, tried to fucking survive and move on. Seth hadn’t made a call on what to do but he did know his brother wasn’t going to ruin his night. 

He sighed, standing up and walking over to Damian’s side, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Think you need to lower your voice, Dam,” he reminded, a bit lower than speaking level. Maybe he’d had a few, maybe he was just as offended by the MCs as he always had been. You’d think by now he’d get over his grudge but seemingly he never would be. “No need for an investigation— Everyone knows who the fuck did it except the fuckin’ cops because they ain’t gonna find a single finger print, drop of blood… nothin’,” Seth shrugged, sliding into the stool next to his brothers. “Town’s got nothin’ better to talk about,” Seth added, nodding to the empty plate. “Aren’t you a doctor or somethin’? Don’t think y’all recommend fries. Are you stress eatin’ again? Ma told you to knock that shit off,” Seth poked.

There’s a dull buzz in his head when he takes the first sip of his fourth drink. Damian knows he’s been drinking too much lately, even without the steady hand that rests on his shoulder and the deep voice of his younger brother in his ear to remind him exactly why. The death toll in town had spiked in the last month. Between the overdoses that he knew his brother’s club was at least partially responsible for--the drug supply in town ran straight through Trojan territory and that wasn’t exactly a secret--and the violence that had spilled blood on the streets of his hometown, Damian needed something to take the edge off. And he was always on edge, feeling like he couldn’t keep anything fucking alive these days.

“A burger and fries isn’t stress eating, asshole. It’s dinner after a 12 hour shift because I ain’t cooking shit tonight,” he said, bumping the hand off his shoulder. Damian hadn’t been overweight since the beginning of high school and he intended to keep it that way, though who could resist a slab of red meat every once and a while? He raised his glass in his brother’s direction, a lopsided grin forming on his face. “At least I don’t smoke. Smoking’s the killer.”

The simple reminder that Kane was very much gone was truly music to Oliver’s ears. He tries not to make it very obvious, as he’s in public and he’d rather not get caught in a sudden quarrel in regards to the man’s death. For now, he’ll remain unphased by the news, drinking his beer in silence as he watches the bar brew and gossip about the last week.

In truth, he hadn’t even realized Damian was there until he spoke up. Embarrassingly so, Oliver could recognize his voice anywhere. Seeing him so unhinged in public was very entertaining, though, he’ll give him that much. Most of the time Damian seemed very polished. Pristine, almost. He was a respected doctor, for crying out loud. He worked with sick people and was on the right side of Olympus history. Sure, Oliver knew the inner workings of his preferences in the bedroom. Oliver’s been bent over his damn dining room table, enduring every bit of unhinged dominance Damian had to offer. But seeing it in a public setting was strange. So much so that Oliver decides to ditch his small, quiet corner of the bar and sit beside him. Like the obnoxious person that he was, he reaches over to pluck out one of the last fries in his plate, popping it into his mouth. Can we not with this shit? Oliver cackles, “Oh, Damian, you know I’d do anything you say if you just said it with your hands.” He says, obviously teasing. 

“They’re gonna play this shit until they get the message across. The police in this town want people to be afraid just as they are.” He says, ordering himself another beer and one for Damian too. His own gaze averts towards the TV now too, pursing his lips a little. Obviously, the bartender was too busy to care about what was on, so Oliver takes it upon himself to hop over the counter and grab the remote. Oliver Stone, an obnoxious hero. The bartender, of course, calls him out and Oliver is quick to respond. “Oh, relax, will you?” Ollie’s brows furrow then, eyes moving to scan Damian’s face as he figures out how to change the channel. “Damn, you’re really pissed about this, huh? Or is this that thing people do when they’re actually pissed about something else and take it out on another thing?”

It’s not that Damian doesn’t want to see Oliver, specifically. The other man had been a good friend ever since they first met. And it a lot of ways, he genuinely loved the man cackling and slinging jokes his way. But under his clothes, Damian knew there was ink proclaiming loyalty to the only people in town that could have, would have carried out the hit on Kane. The Primordial reaches over and swipes the last fries off his plate and Damian isn’t made about that, but he does want to grab Oliver by the wrist and shake him.

“I’m not pissed,” he says calmly, accepting the beer that strangely feels like half a peace offering and half a bribe. “I’m neck deep in blood and carnage every day. Just be nice to have a beer and not think about some asshole’s head turned into a lollypop half a mile from where I live, you know?”

Damian’s glass hits the countertop harder than he intends. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters to himself, tapping his palm against the polished surface to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey? Excuse me!” When the man makes it to the far end of the bar he takes Damian’s glass and replaces it without a word. “Thanks man, but, hang on,” he says as the young man turns away.

“Can we not with this shit?” he asks, gesturing up to the television mounted above the bar. “There’s gotta be some college football on somewhere right?” Its’s been about a week since Kane was killed and still, the gruesome murder still made the rounds on the afternoon news every day. And every time he had to listen to them talk about having no leads? It was impossible not to roll his eyes. Who else would have done... all of that?

2. What traits or talents does your character have that would make them a good/bad member of an MC?

Damian is too lawful good for club life. He’d never make it as an outlaw. But, if we get past that little bit, Damian is still pretty useful to both MCs. He has skills that both clubs could use and a general understanding that sometimes some things need to be kept off the books. He is fiercely protective and loyal to the people he cares about and he has a fairly strong sense of familial duty. 

3. Do you think the MCs are good or bad for Olympus? Why?

Damian can’t imagine anyone saying they’re “good” for Olympus. And, given the mass OD as a result of the tainted drugs the Trojans were pushing, he does actually believe they are bad for the town. Innocent people died as a direct result of their bullshit “outlaw” business. 

14. Honest feelings about Jeremiah?

3. Do you think the MCs are good or bad for Olympus? Why?

Damian has no love for the MCs. He has friends and associations with people in and around them but only because it’s impossible not to in a town like this. But, on the whole they’re both violent criminal organizations that stand in literal opposition of his calling in life. He can’t wrap his head around that world or why anyone would willingly be part of it. This isn’t something he’d ever vocalize to anyone in his life but he resents the club a lot.

12. Do you think there are instances where murder is justified? Why or why not?

Damian’s knee jerk reaction is to say no, because his brain immediately jumps to the clubs’ violence. Damian doesn’t have the stomach for murder, but he spent time overseas patching up soldiers and has spent even more time in a town patching up victims of their own violence. He can wrap his head around violence in the name of self-defense or to protect someone you care about. And he’s prepared, in a lot of ways to take those actions if he needs to.

27. Who (as a mun) would you love to see your character interact more with in Olympus? Why? How? (because plot connections ;) but also pick as many people as you want because ideas could spark)

I need Damian and Desmond to have nerd nights together, first of all. But, I’d also like to see Damian interact with more members of both clubs. They’d know him for sure (given the current irl massive underfunding and staff shortages in rural hospitals, Damian and Ro are honestly probably one of like 20 doctors in the whole hospital and Damian would be one of maximum 5 surgeons), and it would be interesting to see Damian have to interact more with these people he struggles so hard to relate to (and also who, likely, want to literally kill his brother).

28. This or that:

Trojans or Primordials (only bc his brother i guess)

Bar or Diner

Karaoke or dancing

Crocs without socks or crocs with socks

NOLA or Olympus

Badass motorcycle or badass car

Cut or leather jacket

Cronus or the actual Devil himself who may actually be Cronus

15. What was something their parents taught them?

Damian was the one of his parents’ kids who could do no wrong. He was the first born of three boys and he was the kid who was good at just about everything he touched. They regularly made sure he knew they were proud of him. More subtly though, they made it known that he was the son they trusted to be self-sufficient and reliable. 

23. Do they get lonely easily?

Yes. Damian is a very extroverted person who draws in most of his energy from being around other people. He finds it incredibly difficult to just be alone. When he first moved back home and the only person he really knew was Seth, Damian was a regular fixture at the few bars around town. There was a concern that he might have developed a drinking problem in the face of his divorce, but really, he just couldn’t stay locked up in his house by himself for more than five minutes without going stir crazy.

77. What is their most prized possession?

Damian keeps a lot of old photographs. He has boxes and boxes of them in his closet. When his parents died, their old pictures and photo albums were the things he wanted the most when they were cleaning out their house. When he does get lonely, it’s not unusual to find him on the floor of his closet flipping through old pictures of his family and friends.

84. Which deadly sin do they represent best?

Pride. With the kind of confidence that Damian exudes, it’s hard not to have an edge of arrogance. Damian, unsurprisingly, has a very difficult time asking for help when he needs it and will rarely admit to being incapable of accomplishing something. His pride also plays into just how hard he takes it when he has a string of patients die on him. There’s some subconscious part of him that views those deaths as a mark against his skills. 

14. What is their favorite food? How often do they get to eat it?

16. Are they religious?

I already kinda answered this in the question about death but I will add some more! Damian is not religious, though he does have an appreciation and respect for the concept of religion. He’s not the militant type of atheist, rather he is someone who simply finds it very difficult to put any faith into something that, at best, cannot be proven with facts and, at worst, actually contradicts science. He has a deep respect for people who are religious and will say that anything that people find comfort in when things are hard is an inherently good thing. He will engage in the ritual aspects of religion if asked by a patient. 

25. What is their biggest flaw?

Strangely enough, naivety. Damian is optimistic to the point of forgetting that bad things actually do happen. He goes into every situation assuming it will work out and when it doesn’t, he gets blindsided every time. This is true of people too. For someone who has such a hard time putting faith into abstract concepts that can’t be proven, that reluctance doesn’t extend to people. He is the “see the best in everyone” kind of person to a fatal fault. 

58. What is their most noticeable physical attribute?

His size but more importantly his posture. Damian is tall but he isn’t abnormally tall. He works out and is muscular but, again, he’s not a hulked out body builder. So, the thing people tend to notice about Damian is how he carries himself. Damian walks into a room with all the confidence of a man who owns the world and he exudes a warmth that people gravitate towards. People tend to have a perception of him being overwhelming in size, but really it’s just the energy he carries himself with.

82. What is their handwriting like?

8. What do they believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?

Damian has never been a religious man and when it comes to issues of the afterlife, he defaults to science and facts. He is the kind of person who finds it very difficult to have blind faith in things. Without proof, what is there to believe in? Death is the end of the road for Damian and anything beyond that doesn’t match up with his atheistic world view. However, I will say that there are times when Damian really envies people who believe in heaven. Death has had an aggressive presence in his life because of his chosen careers, first in the army and then as a doctor. He has watched so many people draw comfort from the idea that their loved ones were “in a better place” that he sometimes finds himself wishing that he, too, believed in that place.

32. What is their self esteem like?

Damian has never had a problem with self-esteem. He has always been confident and aware of what he had to offer the world around him.

46. How easily can they express emotions? How easily can they hide emotions?

So, Damian is very good at expressing things like joy, happiness, love, contentment, excitement, etc. He is very open with his positive feelings and tends to always lean towards optimism in general. However, he struggles to express his more negative emotions. Sadness, frustration, anger. These are much more difficult for him to let out. It’s a product of his childhood and growing up with a younger brother who demanded so much of their parents energy and attention. On a subconscious level, Damian learned from a young age that it was more convenient for everyone around him if he learned to control what emotions he let escape him.

80. Are they a morning person or a night owl?

Damian is the annoying person who is always the first one in the office with a bright smile on their face. And when you ask him how many cups of coffee he’s had he will smile and answer “No coffee, still just energized from my morning run!” without even a hint of irony or sarcasm.

88. Do they have an accent?

Her amusement only would have grown if Jer hadn’t been mentioned in the next breath. Obviously Jer knew about Damian and her increasing…activities with the man. But she still got a little nervous that he might change his mind, and decide that he wasn’t entirely cool with letting the woman who was meant to be one of his Old Ladies run around and fucking with another man. But the nerves were more based out of the possibility of not getting to see Damian anymore, as she’d grown quite accustomed to being with him. It was the realization that she would miss him a bit too much if she suddenly couldn’t see him. “Was he…upset? He knows about us.” Us. It was a bit of a dangerous word, paring them together. She should have said you and me. At the same time she was pleased he still seemed unable to keep his eyes off her, despite the bit of worry in her stomach. “What’d he say?”

She laughed at his Seth comment, but was on a similar page when it came to avoiding mention or thought of the man when she was slinking into the folds of Damian’s robe. There was a reason she’d chosen this ill-lit, nearly abandoned area to meet. More freedom to do what they wanted to do. The forehead kiss was far more tender than anything she’d expected him to do, and she was grateful that the darkness would hopefully hide the fact that her cheeks may match the red of her dress after a move such as that. But the change of tone in his voice was something she was far more familiar with, and much easier to answer. “Mmm, maybe I need a reminder. I’m not so sure I believe you,” she said as she pressed her lips in a few kisses against his chest over the fabric there. 

“I wouldn’t say upset,” he shrugged, eyes cut down towards the woman against his chest. “He did threaten to fuck me up in ways that no doctor would ever be able to repair, though. So, maybe feeling more protective than upset. Which is...” He rolled his eyes around, as if searching for the right word to assign to Jeremiah’s little pep talk. “I guess sweet. Terrifying, but sweet.” 

There was something in the way that Ramina teased him that always made him smile. He didn’t need to be reminded that everyday he was inching closer to a mailbox full of AARP newsleters, but somehow she managed to make it almost charming. “Way to kick a man when he’s down,” he laughed. “If you already forgot the fun we had last weekend then I might as well pack my shit up and check into the nursing home now.”

Truth be told, the proximity to the man in front of him was unplanned. The jostling crowd behind them forced Jeremiah to nudge forward almost breathing down Damian’s neck. However, if he thought the Primordial was doing it on purpose, then well. Jer wasn’t going to correct him. Nodding in thanks as he took the red cup, starting to walk across the fair to continue the conversation. They walked side by side, until Jeremiah elongated his strides so he was just a little bit in the lead. No matter how old he got, he would never get over this desperate need to be the winner of any situation he was ever in. 

He nodded slowly, eyes scanning the crowd so he knew exactly which friendly faces - and not so friendly faces - were surrounding him before he gave Damian a reply. “I’m glad we can trust you,” Was what he finally settled on. What? was he going to tell Damian that he’s technically not with Ramina, it was purely for protection? No he wasn’t going to trust a stranger with that information. He barely trusted some of the club members with that information. So he kept it brief. “Look. Ramina’s a big girl. She can make her own decisions about who she spends her time with. I’m not chaining her to my bedroom wall or some shit.” 

Damian was taller than him, which was unfortunate, considering threats are better thrown downwind than up. But, Jeremiah would work with what he had as he pressed an index finger into the doctor’s chest. “But. If I hear that you ever hurt her. Ever. No amount of med school knowledge will be able to fix what I do to you. We clear?” 

"She can trust me,” Damian emphasized, though however subtle it came across remained to be seen. He’d always be there to do what he could for Ramina. And that was where the line in the sand was as far as his loyalties. Whatever she had been hiding from for a few days, he didn’t need to know. He was already more closely associated with both club’s bullshit than he’d ever planned to be. 

No sooner had the words left his mouth, did he feel Jeremiah’s finger prod into his chest. The threat, Damian knew, was one that couldn’t be taken lightly. He took a step back, just out of the other man’s reach, and raised his empty hand up in surrender. His mind raced back to all those weeks ago when Damian had first seen Ramina’s bruised face in the daylight. Jeremiah obviously knew more about that than he did. “Hey, man,” he said cautiously, “She’s like, you know, my best friend. I'd never hurt her.” He let a crooked smile hang on his lips, “So no need to start sharpening your knives just yet, okay?”