Casey Donovan just (cantbehave) wrote in repose, @ 2017-06-17 15:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, casey donovan, damian wainright |
Log: Casey and Damian @ zee Diner
Who: Casey and Damian
What: A coffee meeting to discuss drugs
When: After memories before Helena timeline fuzz
Where: The Diner
Warnings:Talking about drug use
Casey arrived to the diner about a half hour before he was scheduled to meet Damian, both to scope out an out of the way seat, and to eat breakfast because old Casey Hubbard's cupboards were bare. He'd have given his right arm for a full English Breakfast that morning, which wasn't strange, but it was comfort food and he was all about comfort food. Instead he went with a full American Breakfast and was mostly satisfied. He even ate a short stack on the side.
He was dressed casually, jeans and a black tee shirt, are what adorned the man with the head full of unruly black curls sitting in the back of the diner stuffing his face. He finished his breakfast and was grateful for the refill of coffee. He took the ceramic diner mug with him when he went outside for a smoke. It was getting close to 11:30, and he was hoping Damian would show up. He had no reason to believe otherwise, other than the fact he was a practical stranger, the kid had a chip on his shoulder, was addicted to drugs, and agreeing to meet with someone who said they wanted to try and help you give that up was hard. He had not shown up to a few of those meetings in his day.
It didn't help that the memories had delayed their initial meeting, but Casey had stuck with it, incessantly really, because that was what he knew was the right thing to do. He'd sent messages to reschedule, and reminders, assurances that he was looking forward to meeting with him when everything blew over. He'd been a right pain in the ass really. As was required of him.
And earlier that morning he'd sent another message. Just in case.
He was outside drinking his coffee from that ceramic diner mug, leaning on the seat of his motorcycle that was parked out front (because he'd just eaten his weight in pancakes and bacon and was lazy), and smoked his cigarette. He looked occasionally up one side of the street and down the other. Looking for a black hoodie. Even though it was hot out, and he had no idea if Damian would even be wearing it, that was what he remembered from their first introduction. He looked in through the front window of the diner, the busser was clearing his table, but leaving the coffee condiments. He'd left his notebook there, they knew he was coming back in and waiting for someone.
Casey was looking forward to the meeting, he wanted to try and help. And he thought maybe he could. He wasn't some paragon of fighting addiction, but he understood it. He knew how to get clean, he even knew how to stay clean even if he'd had his slip up. But more importantly, he thought Damian deserved better. Even though he didn't know him at all, he believed anyone stuck under addiction deserved better. But Damian was young, he wasn't all over the place with his drug use and taking anything anyone would give him. And he wanted to stop. Casey wanted to help him achieve that. Little shit or not.