Post by TheLostBoys on Apr 7, 2017 23:13:48 GMT
Sam Braxton sat solemnly at the foot of the hospital bed in the Henry Ford Hospital, where Dean Coulter lay resting and recuperating after the violent backstage altercation with the Renegades, Chris and Will Fennell. Though no serious injury was sustained Dean was looking at a couple of weeks’ time-off. To say Sam was displeased with the events of Monday night Sacrifice would be a grave understatement.
“Ugh. Did you happen to get the number plate of that truck?” Dean asked jokingly with a groan.
“Yeah mate, it read Trailer Trash…How you holding up?”
“Could be worse. But Sam, do me a favour? Don’t do anything rash, don’t go looking for payback. Let me recover first.”
“So we’re just going to let the Renegades get away with this?”
“I didn’t say that…I know your restless and impatient, but we must be smart about it.”
“But-“
“You promised we’d play things my way remember?”
“Yeah, yeah…It just doesn’t feel right.”
“That’s because it’s not. Hasn’t been right since we started.”
“What?”
“Just…Never mind, I’m still a bit rattled. Anyway, you shouldn’t stay cooped up in here. I’m the one bedridden, not you. Go out and let off some steam.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Mate, I love you to bits, you know that. But you can be a real chore sometimes and I don’t want to be here when you get cabin fever, stuck inside this boring hospital day after day. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone…Well except perhaps the Renegades…Seriously though, I’ll be fine, the docs said it’s nothing serious, just need a couple of weeks. So, go.”
Sam looked ready to put up a fight but in the end, he relented. He gave Dean a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder and exited the hospital room where he almost barreled into Tiffany Jones, the IWF interviewer just on the other side of the door.
“What the-“
“Oh Sam Braxton. We were hoping if we could-“
“You’re like bloody dingoes.”
“Dingoes?”
“Ah…you know vultures, scavengers. Ganging up on the wounded. Dean ain’t got time for your questions.”
“Right…So…can we talk to you?”
“Make it quick.”
“Well Sam, the whole IWF universe wants to know what happened? What caused that brutal backstage attack and what’s going to happen to the Lost Boys from here.”
“…Dean’s doing fine by the way. Thanks for asking. But as to your questions…it doesn’t matter what happened, or started it, what matters is that it needs to finish.”
“And what are you going to do to finish it.”
“I’m not supposed to do anything. See I promised Dean I’d wait for him to recover before we deal with the Renegades.”
“Oh.” Tiffany sounded almost disappointed.
“The problem is…” Sam started to walk away, “I am horrible at keeping promises…”
“Ugh. Did you happen to get the number plate of that truck?” Dean asked jokingly with a groan.
“Yeah mate, it read Trailer Trash…How you holding up?”
“Could be worse. But Sam, do me a favour? Don’t do anything rash, don’t go looking for payback. Let me recover first.”
“So we’re just going to let the Renegades get away with this?”
“I didn’t say that…I know your restless and impatient, but we must be smart about it.”
“But-“
“You promised we’d play things my way remember?”
“Yeah, yeah…It just doesn’t feel right.”
“That’s because it’s not. Hasn’t been right since we started.”
“What?”
“Just…Never mind, I’m still a bit rattled. Anyway, you shouldn’t stay cooped up in here. I’m the one bedridden, not you. Go out and let off some steam.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Mate, I love you to bits, you know that. But you can be a real chore sometimes and I don’t want to be here when you get cabin fever, stuck inside this boring hospital day after day. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone…Well except perhaps the Renegades…Seriously though, I’ll be fine, the docs said it’s nothing serious, just need a couple of weeks. So, go.”
Sam looked ready to put up a fight but in the end, he relented. He gave Dean a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder and exited the hospital room where he almost barreled into Tiffany Jones, the IWF interviewer just on the other side of the door.
“What the-“
“Oh Sam Braxton. We were hoping if we could-“
“You’re like bloody dingoes.”
“Dingoes?”
“Ah…you know vultures, scavengers. Ganging up on the wounded. Dean ain’t got time for your questions.”
“Right…So…can we talk to you?”
“Make it quick.”
“Well Sam, the whole IWF universe wants to know what happened? What caused that brutal backstage attack and what’s going to happen to the Lost Boys from here.”
“…Dean’s doing fine by the way. Thanks for asking. But as to your questions…it doesn’t matter what happened, or started it, what matters is that it needs to finish.”
“And what are you going to do to finish it.”
“I’m not supposed to do anything. See I promised Dean I’d wait for him to recover before we deal with the Renegades.”
“Oh.” Tiffany sounded almost disappointed.
“The problem is…” Sam started to walk away, “I am horrible at keeping promises…”