If you weren't bleeding already I'd slog you one. [But he wraps his arm around John's waist to help pick him up onto his feet.
It takes a bit, step by step, to get John out the door and pour him into the back of the cab. At least his place is his own, now, and doesn't have to worry about Renee hounding after him.
The way John says home makes Chas's heart clench, but it always has been their home, hasn't it? Since the day they met, it's been just as much John's as it has Chas's.]
Hasn't stopped you before, mate. [ He winces, hissing a breath in sharply as the grip tightens around his sore middle. Probably some fractured ribs in there.
John lets Chas take the lead, doing his level best to keep his eyes open and one foot in front of the other. It's all he's got at the moment. Lucky, the way back to the pub isn't far and from a distance, it just looks like John is bladdered and useless, not battered and beaten. ]
Aren't they all? [Seems like it, to Chas. They're all nasty bastards and he doesn't know how John does what he does. He just knows he has to cart him back after.
He could just... not. He could leave him there, let him find his own way home. But he'd never, not in a thousand years.
Once they're back home (the word still makes his stomach do a flip), he helps John onto the sofa. A bath can come later, for now he dampens a towel and stars dabbing carefully at John's head]
After I clean you up I'll call for something to eat, yeah?
Couple of them aren't half bad. Masher tries to crawl his way up for a drink or two sometimes.
[ Which is hilarious. Become routine, that. Masher shows up in some poor sod, spins them about a bit, and John sends him on his way. Sometimes they share a drink before it all.
He winces, hissing slightly at the dab of the wet cloth to his scalp. ]
Food is good, yeah. [ He reaches out to touch the other man's shoulder, then Chas' face. He feels like he's holding something back, upset or something. ] You okay?
I'm always okay. [It comes out a little too fast to be sincere, smile crooked as always. John's wincing and it tugs at the centre of Chas's chest to see him hurt, like it always does. But he finishes cleaning up the worst of the blood nonetheless. Like he always will.]
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Get us home?
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It takes a bit, step by step, to get John out the door and pour him into the back of the cab. At least his place is his own, now, and doesn't have to worry about Renee hounding after him.
The way John says home makes Chas's heart clench, but it always has been their home, hasn't it? Since the day they met, it's been just as much John's as it has Chas's.]
Sure thing, mate.
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John lets Chas take the lead, doing his level best to keep his eyes open and one foot in front of the other. It's all he's got at the moment. Lucky, the way back to the pub isn't far and from a distance, it just looks like John is bladdered and useless, not battered and beaten. ]
That one was a hell of a bastard.
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He could just... not. He could leave him there, let him find his own way home. But he'd never, not in a thousand years.
Once they're back home (the word still makes his stomach do a flip), he helps John onto the sofa. A bath can come later, for now he dampens a towel and stars dabbing carefully at John's head]
After I clean you up I'll call for something to eat, yeah?
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[ Which is hilarious. Become routine, that. Masher shows up in some poor sod, spins them about a bit, and John sends him on his way. Sometimes they share a drink before it all.
He winces, hissing slightly at the dab of the wet cloth to his scalp. ]
Food is good, yeah. [ He reaches out to touch the other man's shoulder, then Chas' face. He feels like he's holding something back, upset or something. ] You okay?
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What've you got the stomach for?
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[ He knows when Chas is lying to him. They both know as much with the other. Means John can't use any of his ruddy tricks. ]
Nothing heavy, outside of that, surprise me.