Re: log: chicago - atticus/matt
"Fine. Insult a man when he's down," Atticus quipped in return. Knew he didn't look good. Wasn't as concerned about that as he would've been once. Didn't think about it as Matt went to retrieve the towel from the bathroom. Didn't think about anything. Was deliberate, because he didn't want to think about the sting of the disinfectant. For all that Atticus had been sick for the majority of his childhood, he still hadn't developed any kind of tolerance or affinity for pain. "People who care about what happens to me," he agreed. Was a strange concept. People who cared about him. Had spent his entire life avoiding connections like that, because he knew the haunts would harm anyone he became close with. But, here, things were different. A werewolf. A demon. A super soldier. Haunts would have a hard time being more than a nuisance to them, and it had opened up a new world for Atticus. That new world had led here.
"Thanks for the advice, but not waiting this out here. Can clean me up. Can patch me up. Then we're hitting the road." Wasn't up for debate. Knew Matt meant the best, but he was being overly cautious. Like anyone who'd spent a lifetime ill, Atticus knew his limits. Could sit in a car. Would be uncomfortable, but would be fine. Was uncomfortable now, so it wouldn't be very different.
Atticus wasn't surprised to learn there were other wolves in Repose. Would've been more surprising if there weren't, and he was only disappointed in himself for not considering it earlier. Were so many woods. Was a place made for wolves. "Think she believes she is on her own. Didn't have a good experience in her last pack. Probably tints her opinion. Was taken by force. Sounds like it was horrible. This man, the one I talked to, sounds good. Stephen knows him." Nodded toward the door, indicating the saxophonist.
When Matt said to hold onto his shoulder or the bedstead, Atticus closed his hand on Matt's human shoulder. Inhaled and exhaled slowly. Deeply. Knew this was going to be a bitch.
Hissed loudly as soon as the liquid bubbled angrily over jagged and red skin. Definitely angry. Definitely infected. Atticus didn't yell, but it was a close thing. Fingers tightened with enough strength to bruise, even weak like he was. Matt was talking about Steve. Grunted. The room spun. Atticus' world went black. Sagged. The bubbling at the bite sight was intense. The pain was even more so.