sixthiterationlogs | Not exactly the best day ever

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Not exactly the best day ever

WHO: Sam Wilson
WHERE: #14 The Plaza (Inside and Outside)
WHEN: Sept 10
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Language--probably
STATUS: Open

The earthquakes had been building for some time, though Sam hadn't noticed them until the bigger ones had hit. He hadn't been overly concerned, since in the grand scheme of things they weren't too bad. He hadn't noticed any major damage and no injuries were sustained. So far it had just been another inconvenience to deal with on top of everything else.

It's because of this that, when Sam is briefly at home taking a much needed break, he doesn't get concerned when the shaking begins. However, as the shaking increases, Sam realizes this isn't the same magnitude as before. Sam acts fast as the shaking gets worse, rolling out of bed and heading for the doorway. That's supposed to be the safest place, right?

The shaking grows stronger and Sam braces himself, doing his best to protect against any debris, though so far his house is still standing. He thinks he heard something loud crack, but he can't check on it now. Not until it's over. There's the sound of shattering glass in a distant room and he thinks he hears something blow.

Thankfully, it isn't long. The shaking gets weaker and, slowly, comes to an end. Sam coughs as the dust from the ceiling and the rest of the room gets in his face and sinuses. He wipes his face and steps forward. It doesn't take much observation to show Sam that his house isn't in the best shape. He sees cracks in the wall now and, as he walks out into his living room he groans.

"That's not getting fixed any time soon," he says when he sees the tree branch that had crashed through his front window. There was glass everywhere and, because he'd taken his shoes off, he was going to have to be careful getting across the floor. He takes a careful step and winces when, as he steps down, he feels water starting to seep through the floor and into the carpet. His socks are now soaked, on top of everything else. "Son of a--are you kidding me right now?"

Sam makes his way to his front porch, the door falling off as he tries to open it. He sighs as he drops onto the front steps. So, he's got a cracked wall, broken window (possibly multiple windows if he checks the other rooms and walls for that matter), and a busted pipe somewhere that is now flooding his house. Oh, and his socks are wet and his door fell off its hinges. He's not sure why he's upset about this, it's not like he even spent that much time on the house. Maybe it's what it represents, another damn thing to fall apart around here.

"I hate this damn place," he grumbles, not sure what he wants to do now -- except maybe just sit for a bit. He'd hit a new low and he knew it. He also knew he couldn't afford to be in a funk right now, but you know what they say about misery.

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Cougar has seen him around since their earlier arrival, but it's not like Cougar is a social butterfly - that's more Jensen's area of expertise. Still, he knows each of the people and after a disaster like this, he wants to go around and do a check. When he sees him, his mind does a quick tally to say - Sam Wilson, alive - but before he moves on, he stops to give the structure behind him a long look.

Their house isn't in perfect shape, but nothing like this. "I don't think it's safe to stay," he warns, already worried about what structural walls might be crumbling right before their eyes.

"No shit," Sam replies, his tone a little biting.

He doesn't mean to though and immediately feels kinda of bad. Sam looks up and sees Cougar is looking over the structure. He must have been going around to check on others. Sam looks back over his own shoulder, sighing, "Sorry. It's not like I was attached. Just another damn thing going wrong around here."

Sam pushes himself off the porch and winces once his foot touches the ground. He looks down at his feet and sees that one of the socks is turning red. "Son of a bitch," he mutters. He flops back down, pulling his foot up onto his lap and yanking the sock off. The cut isn't bad, but it's clear that he hadn't been as careful of the broken glass as he'd thought. He examines his foot with a frown and then wipes the blood away. He waits and then sighs, "Good. Don't need stitches."

He remembers that Cougar is there and looks back up, "Hey. Wanna do me a favor and help me get my stuff out of there? At least keep an eye out and make sure the building is about to fall on me." Sam is already reaching for his boots that he keeps near the door. They'd managed to stay on the porch, even if they weren't exactly in the spot he'd left them.

If he needs stitches, Cougar would be willing to offer up his help. He's glad that there's no need for it, though, because there's plenty of other emergencies to worry about. He nods as soon as Sam starts to talk about helping him out, tugging his baseball cap tighter on his frizzing curls as he heads up the steps to offer his hands wherever they might be best needed.

"Let me know what you want me to lift," he agrees, seeing as he knows that brute strength and any kind of physical help is something that he could do. "Sure you don't need stitches?"

It really isn't that bad -- it's just that blood on white never looks good. Of course, they can get a better look at it after Sam's cleared his house of his meager belongings. Luckily, there won't be a lot to salvage. It's true, they could probably scavenge for more -- but Sam's mostly concerned about going back in for his bag and his mysterious box that had arrived a month ago. He'd already opened it of course, but he hadn't felt like he should dispose of the box since that could be handy.

"Pretty sure. I'll check it more thoroughly later, but it didn't look deep," Sam says as he moves towards the door with purpose. He steps over the now broken door and feels the floor squish under his feet -- now soaking wet from the busted pipe. "I kept my stuff in one spot, mostly want your help if something starts falling apart in here--extra pair of eyes and all." It wasn't like there was a lot of furniture or anything to block pathways.

Cougar's got good eyes, so if that's what Sam's after, he's definitely come to the right person. He also could help with the stitches, but if Sam is insistent that he doesn't need them, then Cougar will also respect that. "Tell me what you need," he says, already slipping back into the frame of mind that follows orders without a second thought. For all his mental health issues, Cougar had been a good solider with his friends and the people he actually respected.

It's just that when he runs up against someone that doesn't have his respect, then he has a tendency to go against the grain and potentially become treasonous.

Sometimes.

Sam considers what he needs, doing his best to walk without hobbling towards the bedroom. There's definitely creaking that wasn't in the house before. His eyes are darting and watching for anything falling, but so far they're in the clear. "Okay, you take the kitchen -- there's some supplies in there that I think Miss Kate could use in the kitchen. I'll get my stuff in the bedroom, meet you back here."

Sam continues forward, every step making him nervous that the house is going to fall in on them, but so far it's mostly groaning and settling from the shaking. Sam wonders if there will be any aftershocks and decides to move faster -- cut on his foot be damned.

Cougar mobilizes quickly once he's been given his orders. He may not report to a commanding officer here, but he's a soldier through and through and when there's a task at hand, he moves. He's fast and quick, stripping his shirt off to use to carry supplies, clad only in a tank top. He collects anything that looks interesting and knots it up before slinging it over his shoulder.

Once he's outside, he gets as far from anything that might collapse as possible to set the supplies down, heading back inside to make sure that Sam is safe. "Sam!" he calls, searching for him. His mission isn't secure unless Sam is safe. "Squelch if you're okay!"

So far, so good. Sam can hear Cougar moving around in the kitchen. He keeps one ear listening for trouble, but mostly hones in on the bag he'd left in the bedroom. Despite having claimed a house, he hadn't really "moved in." Sam couldn't get settled in this place, despite being here for months, and he didn't want to unpack. This place was so unpredictable he wanted to be ready at all times. That was paying off now, honestly.

Sam grabbed the bag, looking around at the room one last time. He went over to his bed and snatched the blanket and pillow. Sam then turned to the drawers and pulled a few items that he'd stashed there to hide and shoved those in his bag. The room was depressingly bare and Sam turned to head back out. The water soaking the rugs and making loud squeling sounds as he moved across the floor. It was soaking into his feet and was very cold, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

Cougar was calling for him outside and Sam looked up, shouting back, "I'm coming!" He glanced over his shoulder one last time at his house, but didn't linger for long because he felt the house shift under his weight. The movement startled him and he cursed. No time for weird sentiment, Sam adjusted his grip on the bag and got out of there.

The pain in his foot was forgotten momentarily as he moved to join Cougar on the lawn outside. The house shuddered again behind him and he could hear a few things crash, but he'd made it out in one piece. "Well that was close."

Cougar raises his brow and watches the house start to fall to pieces, much more casual than a person usually is when watching the kind of destruction as he is in front of him, but then, he's seen much worse. Cougar gestures back to the things he's managed to rescue from the house, but his attention is more on Sam.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "If you are bleeding, you should tell me," he warns, because he hates it when people hide their injuries and Cougar has to find out about them much later.

Sam swallowed. No sense putting it off.

"Might as well take a look at it. Pretty sure it's just an inconvenient cut from the glass though," he said. He decided from that point on he was never going barefoot around here again. There was just too much risk of infection and other unpleasant things.

Sam dropped onto the ground unceremoniously and pulled his sock off. He tried to get a look for himself, but it was on the bottom of his foot and he couldn't quite bend that way. He looked back up at Cougar, "Mind checking for me?"

Cougar gives a nod of his head, crouching down in order to inspect the foot with a critical eye. He gestures to it and then thinks better of doing this out in the open. "We should go somewhere clean. I will need to boil some water, then use my supplies," he says. "Can wrap it up." He doesn't want to see anyone fall ill thanks to infection, which is a worry around here.

"Can you walk?" he checks, because he can help him with that, too, but he has to be careful about hauling Sam around too much.

It makes sense. It's one thing to roll around back home trying to look at your foot because there was a hospital around the corner. They didn't have that luxury here and, in fact, Sam wasn't even sure they had real medical expertise anyway. He got back to his feet, "Sounds like a plan. I think I can walk on it, might just be a little slower cause I don't want to risk pushing any glass further in if there is glass still in the cut."

He grabbed his pack, dug out a clean pair of socks, and started by putting those on along with his shoes. "No sense making it worse," he muttered. He'd probably get some blood on these socks too, but after Cougar had mentioned the fact that he should be somewhere clean it seemed kind of silly NOT to take the precaution.

Cougar gives him a smirk and bends forward before giving his mid pack a pat. "Come on," he encourages. "You are much lighter than Jensen and I have carried him across deserts," he promises, thinking that carrying Sam in a piggyback carry won't be the most embarrassing thing he's had to endure and won't be, for some time.

"And then, no bleeding, less infection," he reasons.

Sam frowned. On the one hand it would be much more practical to be carried instead of hobbling. On the other hand, wasn't it bad enough that he'd lost a race and gotten taken down by a man the size of an ant and now he had to deal with this? Sam wasn't sure he could take much more of this.

But, then again, those last two things were (mostly) unknown here. He was injured so there was also that excuse. But he also wasn't sure he wanted Cougar having this over him--even if the man was playing it off like it wasn't a big deal because he'd done something similar with Jensen.

"How far are we going again?"

"Only until we can treat you without worrying about infection," Cougar promises, because the last thing he wants is for them to lose some of their population because of infection and stubbornness. He raises a brow at Sam to challenge him into telling Cougar why he isn't already there. "If not on the back, I will carry you fireman style," he warns, thinking that it's a little less dignified.

And he already knows that Sam will be more dignified than Jake, given that one of the last time he'd carried Jake, he'd been treated as his noble steed. Sometimes, Cougar thinks it's a miracle he hasn't shot the man.

Whether it's the arrangement that Cougar will only take him as far as necessary or the threat of being carried fireman style that gets him to concede is anyone's guess. However, Sam sighs heavily and with marked annoyance before moving over to Cougar. "Fine. Let's get this piggy back ride over with."

At least with this being a world without technology, he did not have to worry about incriminating pictures to document this. That would have been the worst, though Cougar didn't strike him as the kind of person to use this as a time for blackmail.

Besides, it was a small price to pay for not getting an infection and dying.

Cougar hikes himself back up like he's doing a squat and nothing else, hefting up Sam with ease despite how long it's been since he's gone to a proper gym. Lucky for him that this place has survival requirements that keep him decently in shape. He nods his head towards one of the houses he sees that's close enough to his for supplies, thinking that they can stop there. "Almost," he promises Sam, adjusting his hold a little.

He's not heavy, but it has been a while.

He does have to admit he's glad he didn't have to hobble all that way. Sam does his best to make this both not humiliating for him and easier on Cougar. He holds on like one does when going for a piggy back ride. He notices right away the house Cougar is making his way towards. He would say 'no rush' in reply, but he kind of does want Cougar to get there as soon as possible.

Cougar's fairly used to this much weight on his back from the case of his gun, though obviously it's not as heavy as Sam. If he were Jensen, he might crack wise about him needing to lose some weight, but those are the kinds of jokes that just get eyerolls from Cougar, so he stays quiet until he reaches his house, setting Sam down when they're on the porch.

"Medical equipment is inside," he indicates. "Sit," he says, gesturing to the stoop.

Sam's just grateful to be back down on the ground. He sighs with relief and decides he follow "orders" for now. Deciding to lighten the mood he even quips with a "Yes, sir." He would give a mock salute but decides that might be pushing it. He leans back against the railing on the porch and waits for medical treatment.

"What were you?" Cougar asks loudly as he gathers his things and heads back outside, arching a brow at Sam. "In the army, what rank were you?" The 'sir' has him curious now as to whether Sam would outrank him or not. He nods towards his foot and holds up the small amount of supplies he has, including the one roll of bandages. "If I give this to you, you need to boil it and return to me. It's the only one I have," he says.

He knows it's for situations like this, but he still wants it back. Cougar isn't that generous to just give it up.

"Airforce pararescueman, I was a master sergeant," he replies, wanting to correct the slip up of being army. Not that rivalries like that mattered here. Sam looks up at the sky waiting for Cougar to come back. He nods in appreciation of the supplies and the offer being extended to him.

"No problem, I can handle that," he said. He could understand wanting supplies so valuable returned to him.

Cougar bends down to start working on the problem at hand, shrugging a little. "Sergeant, Special Ops," he says in return, though in the Losers, position doesn't exactly matter so much. After all, Jensen had the biggest mouth and ran with his own plans and he was the lowest level. "Now," he says calmly. "Be still and quiet, and I will fix you. You will return this to me. Maybe someday, you return the favour."

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Not exactly the best day ever

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i apologize if this tag sucks -- but i felt bad not replying after so long

Re: i apologize if this tag sucks -- but i felt bad not replying after so long

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