Time Warp: This Spells Trouble (Vin)

[Samuel Rixon]

Summer, 2010

A semi-willing (read: bribed) truck driver. A skateboard. A rope.

None of this really boded well for anyone with half a brain cell, but to two deviant students, this had fun written all over it.

Awesome, fuckawesome, wicked, and sweet were all descriptions that they felt fit the impending situation quite well.

Not to mention stupid, reckless, and downright dangerous, but hey, that was for other people to worry about. Responsible people.

A sixteen year old Sammy fingered the rope between his fingers, grinning like a fool. This was going to be awesome.

“Ready, VinVin?” He tugged the rope eagerly. He couldn’t wait to try this.

After all, what was cooler than riding down a highway on a skateboard with your best friend?

... Towed behind a fast moving vehicle.

[Vincent Verax]

Vincent was pumped. It had taken him flagging down several vehicles before he'd finally found someone willing to tow him and Sam behind his truck for a modest price of fifty bucks. And Vin was ready.

Standing on the skateboard just behind his best friend with his arms wrapped tightly around his waist, Vincent's grin was approximately three miles wide. "So fuckin' ready man! SO FUCKIN' READY!" He waved his hand up, signaling the driver to go, then hunkered down and braced himself for the wild ride that was ahead of them.

The truck accelerated slowly so that the jerk from the initial movement wasn't so bad, though Vin clung tighter to Sammy just in case. And steadily built up speed, which caused the idiot known as Vincent to whoop and holler... pretty close to Sam's ear. Hearing? Who needs that when they've got FUCKAWESOME SKATEBOARD SKILLZ!?!?!

Neither of them seemed to realize that this was a recipe for disaster and I have a sinking feeling that even if they did, it wouldn't have stopped them anyways.

[Samuel Rixon]

When Vincent had first proposed this idea of sheer brilliance, Sam hadn’t ever stopped to think about the possible dangers. He’d just thought of two things. Skateboard. At a hundred miles an hour. (Yeah, right.)

That alone had had him dancing along the road behind Vincent as he’d tried to flag vehicles. Most of the drivers had given them looks, if not warnings, that they were crazy. Of course, Vincent had had his own choice words for them, which had amused the pyro endlessly.

It was a good thing Sam knew Vincent well, and he liked cuddles. Otherwise he might have had an issue with being so close to another guy. But ever since he’d met the healer, it had been a near-instant bond. Of course, it wasn’t every day that someone saw you accidentally set a textbook on fire and beg for a repeat performance on their own homework.

It was that kind of stuff that made them friends. Sadly.

“This is gonna be SO FUCKIN’ AWESOME.” Sam’s grin matched Vincent’s as the vehicle started to move. He was thankful that he knew a bit about skateboarding already, being that his older brother taught him back home. He centered his balance, and really thought this was going to go well.

Until Vincent started screaming in his ear. The pyro winced and tried to shoulder him. “Stop YELLIN’ VERAX.”

[Vincent Verax]

While asking Sam to set things on fire had quickly become a regular occurrence, it wasn't the only dangerous thing that Vin had coaxed Sammy into doing. Hence why they're now on a four-wheeled ticket to pain. Well, mostly Sam's pain. And though I know this changes very little in the grander scheme of things, I'd like to think that maybe, just maybe, Sam realized what a destructive bastard his friend is.

Vin didn't know how fast they were going, he assumed somewhere around twenty or thirty miles per hour, because the road was really whipping past and he could feel the wind in his face and he was loving every second of it.

And then Sammy started moving... which under normal circumstances would have perfectly acceptable. Not while being dragged behind a truck on a skateboard on a high way. "FUCK MAN!" Vincent shouted back when the skateboard started to wobble. At first, he thought it was just part of the fun...

And then he realized he'd lost his balance. Time seemed to slow down as he fisted his hand in Sammy's shirt, not entirely sure which way to lean in order to correct himself. And indeed he started to fall, but managed to instruct his best friend to "DROP TH'FUCKIN' ROPE!"

And boy, did that pavement come up fast.

[Samuel Rixon]

Prior to coming to Hammel, Sam hadn’t really been prone to dangerous activities. Skateboarding had been about the extent of it, unless he’d gotten into a dare contest with his little brother. Pot wasn’t specifically dangerous, but riding a skateboard down the middle of the road while on a little trip? Not so innocent.

Fortunately, nothing had happened that time.

Not so fortunately, this time he wasn’t going to be as lucky.

The speed was amazing, but Vincent’s yelling wasn’t so nice. It was only when his friend started to wobble too that he really felt like they were in trouble. The board beneath them started wobbling dangerously. By himself, Sam might have been able to correct, but with Vincent grabbing at him, he realized that they were about to eat pavement.

At the last minute, he did as he was told and let the rope go. His hands went out to catch himself, but somewhere in the process of being tangled with Vincent and letting the rope slide from his fingers, he didn’t land anywhere near safely.

He heard the crack before he felt it, and the pyro howled as he rolled down the side of the road, clutching his arm to his chest. “VINCENT,” he managed to call out, keeping his good hand wrapped around the one that felt like it was going to kill him. Following that was a string of curse words long enough to fill a novel.

Maybe road surfing wasn’t such a brilliant idea.

[Vincent Verax]

Vincent hit asphalt with a grunt, his shoulder taking most of the impact, and he felt his shirt tear and his skin scrape the road before he bounced and rolled, hissing as he felt more scrapes form on the exposed skin of his arms. When he finally came to a stop, he was half in the ditch and about ten or so feet away from his best friend.

And in spite of the cuts and what would probably been bruises, he was pretty much unharmed. Pushing himself up, he threw both his hands into the air in a celebratory fashion and screeched, "FUCK YEEAAHHH!"

But his victory dance was cut short when he heard his name.

He hurried to Sam's side, hardly thinking that anything could be wrong with him, and kneeled over his best friend with a huge, stupid grin. "DUDE W'FUCKIN' DID IT AN' IT WAS FUCKIN' AWESOME LET'S DO IT AGAIN!" He was still too full of adrenaline to speak at a lower volume, although Vin's usual volume was pretty similar to a normal person's shouting.

Vin looked up to try and find the driver or the skateboard, but neither were anywhere in sight. Oh well, he supposed they could always come back later with a replacement skateboard and rope.

No, Vincent, you've injured your friend. Do something about it.

[Samuel Rixon]

While Vincent was celebrating like a crazy person, Sam just continued to writhe in the grass. The was no arguing that it had been amazing, up to their less than spectacular dismount, of course. If they could figure out a better way to do it, he'd even be up for it again. ... Maybe.

He'd think about it again when the pain in his arm stopped trying to kill him.

"Oh my FUCKING GOD VERAX. SHUT UP." He stopped holding onto his wrist long enough to press his palm to his eyes, willing himself not to cry. He didn't even notice the slick blood.

Or the fact his wrist was bent at a rather unnatural angle.

Or the deep cut that exposed far more than just a little blood.

Sam hissed in a pained breath. He didn't want to look.

"Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckityfuck." Deep breath. "... We... should go back." And maybe consider seeing the nurse? Good idea.

[Vincent Verax]

Vincent, being the observant and caring friend that he was, didn't notice Sam's broken wrist at all. Nope. He just saw the blood, then showed off some of his larger scrapes that were slowly healing closed. "LOOK! AHM BLEEDIN' TOO!" Like it was a badge of honor or something.

Seriously... being friends with Vincent should be considered a hazard to your health. He should pass out liability wavers.

It took a moment (okay several moments) before Vin finally realized that Sam's wrist was going the wrong way. He gasped, his eyes going wide as saucers, then pointed at it. "Duuuuuuuuuuuuude!" He finally breathed, his mouth hanging open. "LOOK! S'yer fuckin' BONE!"

It wasn't coming through the skin, although Vin could see where it was pushing out against it, and he had to hold back a girlish squeal at his excitement. Now, a normal person would have probably worried. A normal person would have realized that his friend was in pain and that he needed to get him to the emergency room. A normal person would not start laughing when he could see his best friend was writhing in agony from a broken bone. But Vincent was not a normal person. And that's exactly what he did.

"Fuck where's m'phone I need a picture 'f this shit!" And he began reaching into his pockets when Sammy's pained groan finally registered. "Yeah, yeah, we'll go 'n a minute." Vincent, you do realize that not everyone can heal like you can. "Heee. Bone. Yer wrist has a boner." He giggled like a five year old boy.

Obviously not.

[Samuel Rixon]

It was times like this that really, Sam should have found himself reconsidering his choices in friendships. Ember might have been more helpful now, but with her, he wouldn’t have been in his current predicament. No, he was stuck with Vincent, Captain Oblivious.

“... Bleeding?” Sam stared up at Vincent, unbothered as always by his friend’s bloody shoulder. Anyone else’s blood, he could handle. And sometimes even laugh at, if it was on Jackass, or Vincent. But when his gaze tripped down to the hand he’d had against his face, he sucked in a breath. He was bleeding. He just wasn’t sure from where. It wasn’t like his hand hurt.

Just his...

“What?” The pyro’s voice was more of a squeak now. What the hell was Vincent talking about? Yes, his wrist hurt like someone was holding a hot poker to it, but surely he didn’t mean... right? Right?

He made the mistake of looking.

In a very short span of time, two things happened. One, Sam went very, very pale. And two, he twisted just in time to relive breakfast, right in the grass beside Vincent.

He didn’t even make an asinine comment about his wrist having a boner. He just concentrated on breathing, and not looking.

Vin. He is not okay. Do something.

[Event !]

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