Re: Apartment: Sam/Russ/Louis
Sam handed out coffee like it was a prescription, yeah? The kind of shit people lined up for a barred windows in grey places. There wasn't any cream or sugar, because she didn't do either, and she drank her own between tugs on the clove, sick-sweet smoke as she listened to Lou's story. Which was fucking crap, for the record, but it was also Gotham, and Lou's family was smack in the middle of a fucking mob war or whatever.
She put the cup aside, banked the smoke in an ashtray, shooed away the cat that had gotten curious and come looking. She crouched in front of Lou on the couch, and she looked over his injuries in this hella perfunctory way, like she wasn't his sister or whatever. It was medical, and she stood once she was done and went to look for pillows and blankets.
"We call Neil's people in the morning. That's too low-skill shitty for the Falcones, so it's probably some other low ranking family that's just trying to win favor, yeah? Make themselves look fucking badass or something by hitting Neil's brother." She put the pillow on one side of the couch, and she put the blankets near Lou's hip. "Nothing there's going to fucking kill him, and he's not bleeding out or whatever. Sleep's more important. You can help me do laundry in the morning, yeah?" she said to Lou, the smile fond and worried and devoid of the anger that would have been there if this happened when she was young. She was accepting. This shit was just life, yeah. It happened.
She smiled at Russ. "Thanks, baby." Sure, he was on a payroll, but she knew he hadn't come for that. Older now, and she could appreciate it more than she could when she was young and entitled or whatever. "I owe you a dinner or something."