The second Matt says his voice like that, sharp and serious, Tim is on high alert. It's mostly a knee jerk reaction, but he sits up straighter, shoulders tensing, waiting for something to happen. Then Matt speaks again, and Tim blinks.
"What?" He sounds concerned, a little bit bewildered, and somewhat urgent all rolled into one tone. He sits up, tucking himself back in his jeans as he kneels on the couch, but not bothering to zip or button them. Instead, he places a gentle hand on Matt's shoulder and urges him to lean forward carefully, pulling up the back of the other's sweatshirt. The stitches are covered with gauze, but the bandages have blood blooming over them. Definitely ripped.
"Fuck." He drops Matt's shirt, reaching over to snag his phone from the coffee table, already hunting up the good nurse's number. "Claire's gonna kill us. Or you, probably."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2016-09-02 05:09 am (UTC)"What?" He sounds concerned, a little bit bewildered, and somewhat urgent all rolled into one tone. He sits up, tucking himself back in his jeans as he kneels on the couch, but not bothering to zip or button them. Instead, he places a gentle hand on Matt's shoulder and urges him to lean forward carefully, pulling up the back of the other's sweatshirt. The stitches are covered with gauze, but the bandages have blood blooming over them. Definitely ripped.
"Fuck." He drops Matt's shirt, reaching over to snag his phone from the coffee table, already hunting up the good nurse's number. "Claire's gonna kill us. Or you, probably."