Agent Washington (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unrecovered) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionworld2017-06-18 07:31 pm
unrecovered) wrote in legionworld2017-06-18 07:31 pm
Entry tags:
Just Kidding [Open]
Who: Wash and whoever wants to visit him
What: Guess who has another near-death experience to add to the pile!
Where: Medbay
When: The day after this, so also after Time Ripples and Mind Slayer
Warnings/Notes: None yet
Wash wakes up slowly. He's sore, and in an unfamiliar bed, and for a brief moment he thinks of Connie and wonders if he doubled down on that mistake-
Oh. No, he's in medical. Different kind of mistake, then.
It doesn't take long for the staff to notice he's awake and give him the rundown. The bullet caused massive damage to his lung (entry wound was fairly standard; exit wound was a mess); he's only alive because Chief and Dave brought got him to medical in time, and even then he was touch and go for a little bit; yes, that is Dave in the bed next to him, but it's exhaustion from power overuse and he'll be fine once he's had some rest; Wash has healed up fine thanks to his healing factor, but he's still on bed rest until tomorrow at the earliest. The nurse imparting that last piece of information has one of the sternest glares he thinks he's ever seen, and they don't let up until Wash raises his hands in surrender. "Okay. Bed rest. Got it."
That's evidently good enough, and they leave him to his own devices and thoughts he'd rather avoid. Superheroing for months, facing down assassins in his fucking memories and twisted amped-up comic villains and Darth Vader, and he nearly dies because of a sniper that wasn't in the briefing of a mission that should've been a milk run. Christ.
He wonders if the news got out. It's been more than twelve hours, so probably. That probably caused one hell of a ruckus. He can probably look forward to having company, then. Should be fun, for certain what-do-you-mean-you-nearly-died-again flavors of "fun."
Maybe he can catch someone before they come in and get them to bring him fruit from the mess. He can hope, right?
What: Guess who has another near-death experience to add to the pile!
Where: Medbay
When: The day after this, so also after Time Ripples and Mind Slayer
Warnings/Notes: None yet
Wash wakes up slowly. He's sore, and in an unfamiliar bed, and for a brief moment he thinks of Connie and wonders if he doubled down on that mistake-
Oh. No, he's in medical. Different kind of mistake, then.
It doesn't take long for the staff to notice he's awake and give him the rundown. The bullet caused massive damage to his lung (entry wound was fairly standard; exit wound was a mess); he's only alive because Chief and Dave brought got him to medical in time, and even then he was touch and go for a little bit; yes, that is Dave in the bed next to him, but it's exhaustion from power overuse and he'll be fine once he's had some rest; Wash has healed up fine thanks to his healing factor, but he's still on bed rest until tomorrow at the earliest. The nurse imparting that last piece of information has one of the sternest glares he thinks he's ever seen, and they don't let up until Wash raises his hands in surrender. "Okay. Bed rest. Got it."
That's evidently good enough, and they leave him to his own devices and thoughts he'd rather avoid. Superheroing for months, facing down assassins in his fucking memories and twisted amped-up comic villains and Darth Vader, and he nearly dies because of a sniper that wasn't in the briefing of a mission that should've been a milk run. Christ.
He wonders if the news got out. It's been more than twelve hours, so probably. That probably caused one hell of a ruckus. He can probably look forward to having company, then. Should be fun, for certain what-do-you-mean-you-nearly-died-again flavors of "fun."
Maybe he can catch someone before they come in and get them to bring him fruit from the mess. He can hope, right?
no subject
He's surprised by how simple that was. God, things really are different, aren't they. Both of them are and aren't the people they were when they first came through that rift at Phelolu.
"...Yeah."
He sighs. "I'm not good at this feelings shit, Wash," he admits. "But besides the lying to me thing, you're pretty okay. Try not to pull that again."
There's another thing, wait.
"And cut it out with almost getting killed."
Important doctor's orders from Dexter Grif.
no subject
That said, Grif's pronouncement still floors him a little. Pretty good, said aloud, is incredibly high praise when the Red Team baseline personality judgment is asshole, and Wash will absolutely take it. Holy shit. "Regardless of what you think about yourself, you're a pretty good person too. Don't forget that."
That's not about to stop him from sassing back. Making a big deal about things is a good way to guarantee Grif will avoid a repeat performance, and that's not what he wants, and replying in kind is already toeing that line, so a sudden switch to sass it is. "What, do you think I schedule near-death experiences? Let me just cancel my two o'clock assassination attempt."
no subject
Luckily, though, they're moving on to comfortable and familiar sarcasm instead of staying on this subject. Otherwise Grif would have had to find a way to defend his dishonor, and there is no way that ends well for anyone.
"I schedule mine. They're all gonna be next never at nope o'clock," he replies.