#sospeedy

Tommy: He'd found Chase across town, but that distance was nothing to Tommy. He was rushing back up the steps to the apartment door a couple of seconds after hoisting Chase out of the mud. Considering both of his arms were occupied, he kicked at the door with the tip of his shoe. "Hey! Open the door!" Thierry was no doubt still sleeping, but Tommy had never tried vibrating through an object with another person and it didn't seem like the time to experiment.

Chase: As much as Chase hated letting anyone help him - especially Tommy fucking Shepherd - he really wasn't in a place to argue. It was all he could do to cling on, breathing laborious. He didn't think any organs were punctured, at least based on what he knew, but that wasn't saying a lot. He wasn't exactly a medical expert, and even if he was, he was in no condition to assess himself beyond 'fuck that fucking hurts'. It registered in the back of his mind that he'd never actually been here before, and he rather dreaded the idea of being here, in Tommy and Tea's shared space, but he didn't have anywhere else to go.

Thierry: The kick on the door yanked him from a deep sleep. Heart pounding, Thierry fished around in the dark until he found a shirt that didn't belong to him. It had to be Tommy's, since he always put his clothes away. He pulled it over his head and quickly went to the door, pulling it open. The sight that greeted him was the very last thing he'd expected. Eyes wide, the color drained from his face and his lips parted in shock. "What happened??" At the same time he moved back to the couch, his hands beginning to shake. "Here, put him here."

Tommy: "Dunno," Tommy carried him over to the couch and laid him down as gingerly as possible, as if it actually mattered at that point. Jekyll jumped up onto one of the barstools and watched the whole scene with one bright eye. "Went for a run, found him on the side of the road." He took the Fistigons and laid them down on the coffee table. "He said no hospital and I didn't know what the hell else to do with him so..." Bringing him back to the apartment didn't exactly improve the situation any, other than the fact that they weren't outside anymore. It's not like either he or Thierry were doctors.

Chase: Even the relatively soft material of the couch felt abrasive on Chase's raw skin, and he hissed. "Fuck." He was dazed, but conscious enough to murmur a tired "Hey, Tea." This hadn't exactly been the circumstances he'd hoped to see him again in - hell, this wasn't circumstances he'd considered, seeing as until now he had no reason to think he was in any danger - but he didn't have the energy to complain. He was getting blood on the couch, he noted. Oops.

Thierry: "The side of the road?" Thierry repeated needlessly, stepping back so he wouldn't get in the way when Tommy took Chase to the couch. "Hi," he replied softly, his throat feeling oddly thick. The sight of the blood combined with Chase's obvious pain made him feel paralyzed. "Watch him," he said to Tommy. "I'll - I'll be right back."

Tommy: "Side of the road," Tommy repeated. Once Thierry got up, Tommy sat down in the floor beside the couch. "So you got nothin else? You don't know who did this? No clue?" He could mumble if he wanted to, but they kind of needed something to go on. After about half a second Tommy got back up again, grabbed a clean towel from the bathroom, wet it, and brought it back to the couch. "This might suck. It'll be quick." With that warning, he wiped away the blood from Chase's face and whatever else he could do without removing any clothes or moving him around.

Chase: Chase tensed, but didn't flinch, not letting himself duck away from the touch. "No fuckin' idea," he said bitterly. That was new. Usually he figured out pretty quickly who was trying to kill him - or more accurately, he didn't, but Nico and Victor and, a long time ago, Gert and Alex, did. "Some dick kept ramming into the van," he said, voice hoarse. "Pulled over and.." he gestured as best he could with how well his hands were currently working. They'd been protected by the fistigons, but the rest of his arms hadn't had as much luck. "This happened."

Thierry: When Thierry returned to the couch, he was surprised to see that Tommy had already gotten a damp towel and he set his own aside. He kept his gaze down and quietly opened the pill bottle he'd gotten from his room. They were strong. He'd known too many addicts not to have access to things like this, though he didn't take them himself... as much. "Here," he whispered softly, picking up a glass of water he'd set on the table next to the towel. "Take these. It will make you feel better." Despite how calm he seemed, his hands shook as he reached out, but hesitated when he saw Chase's hands. "Do you need help taking them?"

Tommy: Tommy moved out of the way when Thierry came back. Now that they were all actually there, he was starting to feel a little weird about it. Thierry had -just- told him that he'd gone to see Chase and kissed him. Granted, he'd followed that up with a lot of other stuff, but the other stuff hadn't gone that well (because he'd fucked it up). "So...what're we supposed to do? He said no hospital." And he wasn't inclined to drag him there against his will. He also couldn't keep laying on the couch indefinitely.

Chase: Chase wanted to refuse, but he considered the way his rib felt like it was scraping against his lung with every breath and nodded hesitantly. "M'not dying," he informed them, before having to pause to dribble more blood out of his mouth. "That's fucking disgusting," he said flatly, "Sorry 'bout your couch." He tried to, at least, before getting another flash of pain. "Shit," he said, strained. "Sorry. Yeah, not dying. Definitely not dying on your fucking couch, anyway."

Thierry: Sitting on the very edge of the couch, Thierry gently helped Chase swallow the pills, not even flinching when he saw the blood even though it made his heart sink. He put his hand against the back of Chase's head so he could sit up and drink water so that the medicine would wash down. The very thought of Chase dying was sending him into a quiet panic and he looked at Tommy, his voice soft and pleading. "We have to get Josh. He can help him. If he doesn't want to go to the hospital then he is our only option."

Tommy: "...Yeah. Yeah, alright. How am I supposed to do that?" Josh had helped -him- but Tommy didn't have anything to do with arranging that. He didn't even know the guy outside of that 'hey thanks for fixing my broken head' interaction they'd had. "Am I just supposed to go knock on his door and bring him?" He suspected that was probably what his grandfather had done, but Tommy didn't exactly have Magneto-levels of street cred and intimidation to just go show up and demand something.

Chase: Just the act of swallowing hurt like a bitch, but Chase made a face and tolerated it. He wasn't dying, at least, he didn't think so. He hadn't been exaggerating, unless he'd severely misjudged his condition. To be fair, that was very possible. He wasn't a genius on his best days, and this was far from it. "The shiny dude?" He was likely wrong, but he doubted there were too many freaky mutant healers in Star City who happened to be named Josh. As much of a weirdo magnet as the city seemed to be, that description was specific enough.

Thierry: "I can text him," Thierry said calmly. He knew where to find Josh, but the thought of going across town and looking for him was not a welcoming one. He was too injured. He didn't want to risk it. Without responding to Chase, he took out his phone and wrote a message, his fingers still trembling.

Josh: It was far too early to actually be awake, but Josh never turned his phone off. By the second chime, he rolled over and grabbed for it. [txt]I can come to you. Where?[/txt] Within a few minutes he was out of bed, dressed, and out the door. He could've and maybe should have asked more questions before just agreeing to go, but this was part of it.

Chase: "Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" Chase asked, or attempted to. It was mostly unintelligible, and he scowled and shook his head. "Never fuckin' mind." He felt somewhat more conscious, like he wasn't on the verge of passing out any longer, but it was getting more difficult to speak, even if he could articulate things better than before.

Tommy: "He's trying to get someone to help you," Tommy snapped, maybe unnecessarily. He folded his arms and glanced toward the door. "If we wait on him to get here it'll take forever. Tell him to meet me." Tommy named off some restaurant he went past all the time that was on the way from the part of town Josh was apparently coming from. "It's all aboard the friggin' Tommy train today, I guess." With that, he took off, leaving Thierry and Chase to deal with themselves for a little while.

Thierry: Thierry looked up at Tommy when he said that, then nodded in agreement and quickly sent the location to Josh, letting him to know that Tommy would meet him there. He started to say something, but the Tommy took off and he fell silent. Putting down his phone, he turned more toward Chase, reaching for the towel he'd set aside so he could brush the blood off the corner of his lips. "Don't try to speak. You're going to be all right... I promise. He's almost here and he'll help you. Just stay with me."

Chase: "M'fine," Chase insisted, shaking his head. He wasn't - that much was obvious - but he wasn't on death's door either. He'd dealt with worse, but the worst part had honestly been how completely blindsided he'd been by the whole thing. He should've had his guard up. "I'll be okay, y'know," he told Thierry more gently. "I always am. Don't have to worry."

Tommy: Josh had tried to ask questions when he got there but Tommy didn't have time (or answers) and had hoisted him up as unceremoniously as he'd picked up Chase earlier. Not too long after he'd taken off, he and Josh were back at the apartment. "Delivery," he announced, like he had to make himself known before he got all the way in the door.

Thierry: Thierry shook his head when Chase said that, a small, wry smile on the edge of his lips. "You always say that and I never believe you." He hesitated, but then reached out to gently push a bloodied piece of hair away from Chase's cheek. The sound at the door made him look up and he stood to get out of the way, now focused on Josh, and his expression was apologetic. "I'm sorry. I need your help."

Josh: "Kinda worried that all three of you know each other and someone always needs my help." Not that he needed to be told that. The blood on the couch and Chase's...everything, basically, was enough of a clue. "What happened?" He walked over to the couch and knelt down, pushing away the towel Tommy had been using earlier.

Chase: "I got fuckin' jumped," Chase said dryly, or as dryly as was possible when there was still blood in his mouth. "Some fuckin' douche kept rear-ending me, and then I pulled over, and a few guys came and beat the snot out of me." His focus was still on Thierry, and the apparent concern on his face. "I've had worse," he insisted.

Tommy: There were too many people in the living room. He was pretty sure there had never been that many people in the apartment at once, period. It's not like Thierry threw parties or anything, and pretty much all the 'friends' he had were in the room. Anyway, he was pretty sure that his 'job' in all of it was done. As Josh assessed Chase's injuries, Tommy disappeared into the bedroom. Chase was bigger than he was, but he could deal with some tight, not-bloody and fucked up clothes.

Thierry: The story made Thierry's heart sink, even though he had known from the beginning that this had everything to do with him. His talk with Oswald had been cryptic, but he was intelligent enough to connect the dots. He shook his head when Chase said he'd had worse, turning away so he wouldn't see the look on his face. He followed Tommy into the bedroom and shut the door, but stayed by it as he spoke to him quietly. "I know why this happened."

Josh: "Two broken ribs," Josh said, half talking to himself, but sort of telling Chase what he felt. "Liver laceration. Minor." There were a few other things - common trauma injuries. He had deep bruises on different areas of his body, cuts, abrasions, so on. "This is going to feel uncomfortable for a little bit." Josh tugged Chase's shirt up over his stomach until he could lay his hands on his side, just above the two broken ribs. Bones mending together did not feel -good.- He couldn't do anything about that part, though.

Chase: Chase hissed, unable to keep from flinching this time. He'd been healed before - Nico - but it hadn't been this kind of damage, and it hadn't been this fast either. "Okay," he mumbled, breathing still shallow. "Fuck, okay."

Tommy: Tommy tossed a t-shirt onto the bed and turned around. "What are you talking about? He said he had no idea who it was. Just some guys running the van off the road." Tommy hadn't even thought to ask about the van when he'd found him. It hadn't been anywhere in sight. Now that had him wondering just how far Chase had managed to walk before he ran across him.

Thierry: Thierry was silent for a few seconds before speaking again, carefully. "Because Penguin knew about what happened. He did it, out of revenge for... my refusal to take the job." He knew he wouldn't get out of the arrangement scot-free. There would be a catch, somewhere, and this was it. "He did it. And he might come after you next."