Cain Abraham Callahan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fear_noevil) wrote2014-07-29 02:17 pm
fear_noevil) wrote2014-07-29 02:17 pm
Entry tags:
the lessons i taught weren't the lessons i learned...
"KIKI!"
"Oi, don't shout! I'm right fuckin' here, what d'you want?"
Cain Callahan glanced up from the kitchen counter, glaring at the athletic brunette with a head full of wild brown curls and bright green eyes that was trudging sleepily out of the living room, a cup of coffee in hand...still dressed in boy short panties and a sweatshirt.
"Could you maybe not wander around the fuckin' house in your goddamn underwear?" Cain groused.
Valkyrie Callahan merely flipped him off with a sleepy smile as she paused for a sip of her coffee. "Make me, big brother."
"Whatever...that shit got sugar in it?"
"Splenda."
"You check your sugar this morning?"
"75, fasting."
Cain raised an eyebrow. "You ok?"
"Had some orange juice before the coffee...stop fussing!" Valkyrie whined, voice still thick with the British accent that only came on hard and fast when she was pissed off or tired. "I feel fine, I'll recheck after I've had something to eat...what the bloody fuck are you doing, hmm? Shouldn't you be in the shower by now?"
Cain glared again, giving his attention back to the hand he had over the kitchen sink. "Splinter in my goddamn hand."
"Were you punching poor, defenseless trees again?"
"I was runnin' late on my jog, did some work while I was out--can you stop mocking my shit and come fucking help me already, you mouthy little bitch?"
Valkyrie just giggled, dancing up to kiss Cain's cheek before she plucked the tweezers out of his free hand. "Promise not to be a wuss?"
"No."
Valkyrie rolled her eyes. "Bloody doctors. Ah, well...here's to our new life in Siren Cove, yeah?"
Cain scowled at Valkyrie, watching her as she bent over his hand to try and pry the splinter from his heavily callused skin. Her hair was pushed aside, and on the back of her neck, peeking above the collar of her sweatshirt, he could see the first of her scars...lashes left on pale, freckled skin, crisscrossing her back and left to heal poorly on the body of an innocent little girl.
If her biological father wasn't already rotting in prison, Cain would have killed the fucker himself.
That was, however, one of the biggest reasons the two of them had moved to Siren Cove: change. Something away from Detroit, something that wasn't the dirty streets and the rank city air and constantly looking over their shoulders. Where Kiki could do some good with the department instead of watching kids end up behind bars because they didn't buy there was a better way. Someplace where he could stop sending those same kids back out to get shot again, or worse...someplace they could both save a few lives.
Maybe even keep Ma's work alive.
He was distracted by his thoughts by a sharp lance of pain, making him flinch and scowl as he yanked his hand away from her. "Fucking Jesus...shit, Keeks, you tryin' to kill me or something? Fucking goddamn cocksucking shit!"
Blandly, Valkyrie held up the tweezers...where a barely visible sliver of wood was clutched between the tips.
"Doctors," she informed him brightly, "make the absolute worst buggering patients."
Narrowing his eyes, Cain's lip curled in a sneer...right as he leaned over to kiss the top of her head in thanks.
"Bitch."
"Arsehole."
"Shaddup and drink your coffee." he groused, running the tap and sticking his hand underneath it to soothe the sting.
* * * * * * * * * *
A couple hours later, Cain was heading for the hospital. Technically, he wasn't on duty for an hour yet, but he wanted to check in on a couple of his patients. The previous day, he'd seen shadows in their auras, and wanted to get a jump on any complications that might be arising, and he damn sure wanted to wipe out any black spots before they could show up.
Black and white were always the most difficult. Black spots were critical issues. White was a danger zone: a last, brilliant ray of light before life ended and the light went out for good. He couldn't see when it went white, couldn't separate the colors into the feelings and ailments he needed to understand to do his fucking job.
It was the reason his whole goddamn room at home was being painted brown. Brown was a good color: earthy, nutty, brown. In the auras he'd seen, it was the color of honesty. He could trust someone with brown in their aura.
Hitting a local coffee shop for his morning fix of caffeine, Cain headed for the floor the same way he headed for everything: with a scowl on his face and a curse never far from his lips...albeit more sedate, and more thoughtful than cross as he started going over patient charts at the nurse's desk.
Just another day in Paradise: where not even superpowers could save enough lives for his taste.
"Oi, don't shout! I'm right fuckin' here, what d'you want?"
Cain Callahan glanced up from the kitchen counter, glaring at the athletic brunette with a head full of wild brown curls and bright green eyes that was trudging sleepily out of the living room, a cup of coffee in hand...still dressed in boy short panties and a sweatshirt.
"Could you maybe not wander around the fuckin' house in your goddamn underwear?" Cain groused.
Valkyrie Callahan merely flipped him off with a sleepy smile as she paused for a sip of her coffee. "Make me, big brother."
"Whatever...that shit got sugar in it?"
"Splenda."
"You check your sugar this morning?"
"75, fasting."
Cain raised an eyebrow. "You ok?"
"Had some orange juice before the coffee...stop fussing!" Valkyrie whined, voice still thick with the British accent that only came on hard and fast when she was pissed off or tired. "I feel fine, I'll recheck after I've had something to eat...what the bloody fuck are you doing, hmm? Shouldn't you be in the shower by now?"
Cain glared again, giving his attention back to the hand he had over the kitchen sink. "Splinter in my goddamn hand."
"Were you punching poor, defenseless trees again?"
"I was runnin' late on my jog, did some work while I was out--can you stop mocking my shit and come fucking help me already, you mouthy little bitch?"
Valkyrie just giggled, dancing up to kiss Cain's cheek before she plucked the tweezers out of his free hand. "Promise not to be a wuss?"
"No."
Valkyrie rolled her eyes. "Bloody doctors. Ah, well...here's to our new life in Siren Cove, yeah?"
Cain scowled at Valkyrie, watching her as she bent over his hand to try and pry the splinter from his heavily callused skin. Her hair was pushed aside, and on the back of her neck, peeking above the collar of her sweatshirt, he could see the first of her scars...lashes left on pale, freckled skin, crisscrossing her back and left to heal poorly on the body of an innocent little girl.
If her biological father wasn't already rotting in prison, Cain would have killed the fucker himself.
That was, however, one of the biggest reasons the two of them had moved to Siren Cove: change. Something away from Detroit, something that wasn't the dirty streets and the rank city air and constantly looking over their shoulders. Where Kiki could do some good with the department instead of watching kids end up behind bars because they didn't buy there was a better way. Someplace where he could stop sending those same kids back out to get shot again, or worse...someplace they could both save a few lives.
Maybe even keep Ma's work alive.
He was distracted by his thoughts by a sharp lance of pain, making him flinch and scowl as he yanked his hand away from her. "Fucking Jesus...shit, Keeks, you tryin' to kill me or something? Fucking goddamn cocksucking shit!"
Blandly, Valkyrie held up the tweezers...where a barely visible sliver of wood was clutched between the tips.
"Doctors," she informed him brightly, "make the absolute worst buggering patients."
Narrowing his eyes, Cain's lip curled in a sneer...right as he leaned over to kiss the top of her head in thanks.
"Bitch."
"Arsehole."
"Shaddup and drink your coffee." he groused, running the tap and sticking his hand underneath it to soothe the sting.
A couple hours later, Cain was heading for the hospital. Technically, he wasn't on duty for an hour yet, but he wanted to check in on a couple of his patients. The previous day, he'd seen shadows in their auras, and wanted to get a jump on any complications that might be arising, and he damn sure wanted to wipe out any black spots before they could show up.
Black and white were always the most difficult. Black spots were critical issues. White was a danger zone: a last, brilliant ray of light before life ended and the light went out for good. He couldn't see when it went white, couldn't separate the colors into the feelings and ailments he needed to understand to do his fucking job.
It was the reason his whole goddamn room at home was being painted brown. Brown was a good color: earthy, nutty, brown. In the auras he'd seen, it was the color of honesty. He could trust someone with brown in their aura.
Hitting a local coffee shop for his morning fix of caffeine, Cain headed for the floor the same way he headed for everything: with a scowl on his face and a curse never far from his lips...albeit more sedate, and more thoughtful than cross as he started going over patient charts at the nurse's desk.
Just another day in Paradise: where not even superpowers could save enough lives for his taste.
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He doesn't want to be here, but he knows it's in his best interest to do this before he's out to see for the next week. Joel had insisted on coming along, but Spencer had reminded him that someone needs to pack the bags because the decision to go on the cruise had been so last minute. It had been made yesterday, in fact, and Spencer doesn't want to think about yesterday but being at the hospital right now is more than enough of a reminder.
He wrings his hands in front of him in spite of willing himself to stop and heads straight for the nurse's desk to check in. He's lucky, really, to have gotten an appointment on such short notice but someone had canceled and a slot had opened up so it's all the better for him. His head has been pounding since last night, and he can't determine whether it's all just psychosomatic thanks to the panic attack he'd had--he cringes because there's that sound again, the sound of the glass shattering against his head, and he takes a deep breath because he's not even in the library now, he's in the hospital where he's safe--or if there's really something wrong with him.
He hadn't even bothered to stay the full night at the hospital after what Mark had done to him in the lighthouse despite the doctor and nurses' best efforts to keep him there. He wonders now if that had been a mistake; but he remembers the receptionist at the desk to be the one who'd checked him out that night, and she smiles kindly at him before gesturing toward the waiting area with the promise that someone would be with him shortly.
It's then that he nods, rubbing at his temple with a furrowed brow even though he tries to return the smile, and turns only to run into someone hard enough that it knocks something out of the other person's hands. It's a doctor, it turns out, and Spencer groans with embarrassment as he bends down to pick up the chart that has fallen to the floor.
"God, I should really learn to look where I'm going," he offers as an apology, holding the chart out to the doctor. "Are you all right?"
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