Man Down, or how Trevor contracted three sexually transmitted diseases through healing [Trevor/Damon]

“I really can’t thank you enough, man. The idiot’s always getting himself banged up, but this was just… stupid of him. He’s got a broken rib and a couple bad bruises, and with the show tonight, just getting him patched up wasn’t going to be enough.” Sheepishly, Morgan ran his hand through his hair and continued leading the way down the hall towards Damon’s dorm room. He wouldn’t have called Trevor in, but with a broken rib, Damon could barely move, and if the guys in the band were being honest with themselves, the only reason people came to their shows was because of him. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Now they just had to hope that this guy was as good as the rumours said he was.

And that Damon wasn’t going to freak out or do anything idiotic.

… Ha, yeah right. Morgan kind of felt like they were hoping for a lot right now.

Stopping outside the door, he took one last deep breath. “Okay, so… Just remember, this guy is a little…” He paused, giving Trevor a once over from head to toe, taking in the hair and the eyes. “No, never mind. You’ll fit in just fine. Just don‘t take anything he says seriously,” he murmured offhandedly, pushing open the door and stepping into the room. The other three band members were already there, watching a very annoyed--and bedridden-- Damon play a game on the TV.

When he walked in, the other three got up and left, offering words of encouragement and luck, deciding to leave this to Morgan. Typical. As the lead guitarist and founder of the band, Morgan was probably the closest out of everyone to Damon… and the one who always got to deal with the guy’s temper tantrums and issues (of which there were many). But at least he wasn’t alone this time, and he smiled encouragingly. “Damon, now I know you didn’t want--”

Brown, pupiless eyes narrowed sharply, darting from one boy to the other and back again. “Who the hell is this?” Before Morgan could respond, his eyes suddenly opened wide, filled with hope, and oh god, that smile was blinding. “Did you get me a stripper, Morgan?!”

Yeah yeah, he’s heard this type of thing before. Someone was hurt and they sent someone to play fetch for him, wasn’t hard to imagine how considering this guy was pretty jittery to start with. He never thought he’d be dragged to a school though, it’s really weird. He’d was only in middle school when he was forced to drop out. Replacing school knowledge with street smarts and what he could gain from reading at the library.

He would’ve been going to college by now to think of it if he had managed to have a normal life and get an education.

They stopped at some door; it looked like the 50 others they passed except the number plate was different.

“Okay, so… Just remember, this guy is a little…”

Weird people weren’t a problem. Jerks, druggies, creepers who wanted to get a little too close to Trevor. Yeah weird wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary.
The quick sweep over his appearance was a bit disconcerting though.

There were three other guys in the room and they all seemed to be in a hurry to get out, muttering good luck to the guy who had led him here. Someone was still on the bed though, engrossed in some game on the TV.

“Who the hell is this?” Rudeness, that wasn't new. The injured tended to be grumpy anyways by default, his appearance was a bit more interesting to analyze. No pupils and odd amber eyes, so harbinger. Also he was pretty girly looking even with the faint bruise splotches on his face. Got into a lot of fights did he? Probably caused his friends a hell of a lot of trouble as well if they acted like jumpy rabbits.

Suddenly the guy-Damon was the name right?-smiled hugely and he looked like a spoiled brat getting a new toy. “Did you get me a stripper, Morgan?!”

Oh he just did not fucking… He pushed past the Morgan kid and kicked the other kid in the stomach that sent him flat on the bed. That felt better. “Sorry but I’m just someone your friend brought over to heal your dumb ass.” Hey, he’s going to heal him anyways, might as well kick him around a bit.

Better get it over with though. He tugged his hands out of his jean pocket and hesitated just for a moment, he could always punch him for good measure too… but decided to just go with tapping the guys forehead for the necessary couple of seconds.

The familiar flood of pain, barely a twitch showed up on his face.It was bruises and a broken rib. No big deal, and this rib wasn’t poking out of it’s skin and bleeding the fuck everywhere like the one he took from Hoss. He turned back to kid who brought him, “ It’s 20 credits.”

The sooner he got out of here the better he would feel.