#sqxire

"Jesus Christ—-Scram. I think he’s had enough, don’t you?"

God, kids could be so cruel. Beating up others, wanting to actually make them feel worthless. Weak. Ugh. Even Darren wouldn't go that far, especially if he didn’t know the other. 

Most of the others left, and he had to make a grab for his sword to make the others go. His eyes went from the running figures to the one on the ground. 

"Harv?"

Harv, of all people Darren knew, was the one on the ground. He was hoping the other had at least fought back instead of taking the beating he didn’t deserve. 

"How’d this happen?"

  It took a minute to register that the blows had stopped, another to register the familiar voice and a flush of heat to begin to creep up his face. Here he was, lying on the ground and utterly weak as Darren came to his rescue. The only consolation Harv had was that it hadn't been Finn who had witnessed this--if the small blond had been his savior, he never would've lived it down.

  That thought was enough to make him cringe, gritting his teeth to keep from letting out a noise of pain as he managed to push himself up to a sitting  position--standing would, unfortunately, have to wait; right now Harv was more focused on not sprewing his lunch onto his bloodied clothes.

  Out of all the people he'd expected Darren to come to the aid of, Harv hadn't been at the top of the list. They barely knew each other, and when they had met he went from almost drooling on the others shoes to trying to kill him for trying to kill Finn and...it's not like they were friends, anyway. The rescue was confusing enough, without the added concern.