Moments ago, Faraday might have bristled at being guided, at being coaxed along like some frightened calf, but in the here and now, he merely nods against Vasquez. Vasquez squeezes at Faraday’s injured side, and he gasps, startled, wincing at the added pressure.
“The hell are you—?”
The pain doesn’t fade – Faraday doubts anything but an act of God might make it disappear, with the way it’s shrieking at him – but the sharpness of it is sanded away a little, allows him to take a deep breath at last. It’s helping a little, whatever it is Vasquez is doing, and Faraday’s grip on the other man’s vest eases. He pushes away, giving them both a little more room to breathe.
When Vasquez mentions buying him a round, Faraday huffs out an embittered sort of laugh.
“Better make that a promise,” he grits out – because alcohol will always be a strong motivator for a man who prefers to spend his days half-corned. He finally lifts his head, taking stock of their surroundings. A chair nearby seems his best bet, and Faraday clenches his jaw as he points himself toward it. It’s a testament to how badly he feels that he doesn’t try to make it on his own, or that he doesn’t grouse about needing the help. Instead, Faraday wordlessly maneuvers himself so that Vasquez supports his bad side, an arm thrown around Vasquez’s shoulders to keep himself upright.
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“The hell are you—?”
The pain doesn’t fade – Faraday doubts anything but an act of God might make it disappear, with the way it’s shrieking at him – but the sharpness of it is sanded away a little, allows him to take a deep breath at last. It’s helping a little, whatever it is Vasquez is doing, and Faraday’s grip on the other man’s vest eases. He pushes away, giving them both a little more room to breathe.
When Vasquez mentions buying him a round, Faraday huffs out an embittered sort of laugh.
“Better make that a promise,” he grits out – because alcohol will always be a strong motivator for a man who prefers to spend his days half-corned. He finally lifts his head, taking stock of their surroundings. A chair nearby seems his best bet, and Faraday clenches his jaw as he points himself toward it. It’s a testament to how badly he feels that he doesn’t try to make it on his own, or that he doesn’t grouse about needing the help. Instead, Faraday wordlessly maneuvers himself so that Vasquez supports his bad side, an arm thrown around Vasquez’s shoulders to keep himself upright.