Danny Williams (
haolehothead) wrote2012-10-12 10:43 pm
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For all that Danny had complained about the possibility of Steve getting him shot, winding up stabbed by his not-so-daughter-like-daughter hadn't exactly been up there on the list of things he had expected. After all, that's insane, isn't it? It should be. And yet, here he is in the clinic with stitches up and down his sides to prevent his guts from spilling out and Esther is dead and Steve isn't under his roof and Danny doesn't know what to do right now except bitch more about the pain.
Because that? That is in his control. "Come on, who's got the power over the morphine here?" he shouts, voice a weak resemblance of what it could be. "I'm dying over here."
Because that? That is in his control. "Come on, who's got the power over the morphine here?" he shouts, voice a weak resemblance of what it could be. "I'm dying over here."
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"Danny, you got fucked over. Sounds to me like she was pretty fuckin' good at it."
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Sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him, I hesitate for a moment, then stretch out beside him, 'cause that's what he seems to want.
"Can't really blame the crazy fuckin' bitch, but she should've rethought her tactics, you know?"
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I'm not on the council anymore, so I guess it's not my problem.
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"You oughta get some sleep, you know."
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