davin | Entries tagged with loc; davin's apartment

After spending most of the day in the hospital, Davin was released with a cast on his right hand and a few stitches in his temple, along with other various bandages. His face is bruised but Joel's potion, along with Davin's own, helped with the swelling. The prognosis on his hand is good, and for that Davin is relieved. He knows a lot of it had to do with Joel's potion. It helped repair the bones and get them all in the right place by the time he went in for x-rays, so he didn't even have to have surgery on it. His own potion will help speed along the healing process, but for now he's stuck with this cast and the sobering realization of how much it sucks to not be able to use your dominant hand.

James brought him home and Davin got him to help make a batch of hot cocoa, because nothing, not even being under blankets in the hospital, made him feel warm. It wasn't until he had cocoa in his belly and James' arms around him in bed that he was finally able to relax and sink into that warmth, allowing himself to really sleep for the first time in days.

Now, an entire day has passed since he and Spencer were saved from that warehouse, and Davin is already feeling a little better. He moves to the couch with a new batch of cocoa, burrowing under a pile of blankets even though it's perfectly pleasant outside. He just can't seem to chase that chill away, not unless James' arms are around him.

Davin assures James that it's okay for him to go down to the station for awhile, and tells him that he has friends coming over to look after him. He leaves with a kiss and a promise to bring back some food, and Davin watches him go with a soft smile.

He hasn't seen Mira or Raleigh since he was taken, and he's missed them terribly. He spoke to them both briefly on the phone, and now they're on their way over. The door is locked up tight until Joel can come teach him how to set up wards, but Mira has a key and instructions to let herself in. Davin curls up in his nest of blankets and carefully moves until he finds a position that isn't too hard on his cracked ribs.

His friends will be here soon, and then James will come back. It's okay; he's safe. Davin takes a breath and closes his eyes, drifting off into a light sleep while he waits.

It's been almost two whole days.

Davin hasn't left his apartment since he got home from the hospital, and now he's staring down at his invitation to the Flynn/Cabot ball. He's not sure why he was even invited. He'd worked with Corrine when people went missing. Maybe that was it. He'd waffled back and forth about going, even though he has no place at some fancy ball. But still, it was a ball, fairytale type shit, and James had taught him how to waltz. He went and got something to wear, just in case, and it's a good thing that he didn't take the tags off. Now he can return it.

He can't really waltz with broken ribs.

There had been enough of his healing potion to take care of some of the damage. It had been brewed with minor cuts and bruises in mind, normal everyday nicks and dings that come with working in an auto shop, so he still looks pretty banged up. He'd dabbed some on his lip and the cut above his eye, removing the stitches when they healed. He uses some to mostly heal his black eye, taking away the swelling and some of the bruising. The rest goes to the cut on his side and spread along the bruising on his ribs. His face is still scraped up and bruised on one side, one finger still broken, ribs still discolored and sore. But at least now he doesn't quite look or feel like he was just released from the hospital. He just looks like he got the shit beat out of him.

He could have brewed more but that would have meant actively calling on his magic. He's still wary of it after how close he came to hurting people with it. His grandmother always tells him how incredibly powerful he is, how he came from a long line of strong witches, leaders of their clan. He never really realized how serious she was until now. He can feel the power coursing through his veins, and it feels dangerous. This will pass, he's sure, and he has a Skype date with his grandmother on Sunday. He can ask her about it then. For now, he's not using his magic, so the wounds will stay.

His date with Jameson is on Friday, and Davin knows that he has to cancel it. He can't show up looking like this. He just hopes Jameson will want to reschedule, but why would he? Thinking about it just makes him sad. He had been so, so excited for this date, even with all the obstacles it was coming with. It's been a really long time since he went on an actual date, and he likes the way he feels around Jameson, all shy and excited and hopeful. Good. Now he's pretty sure he's blown it.

All he has to do is just actually call him. He's been staring at his number in his phone, but keeps delaying hitting call. Jameson seems like the kind of guy who would actually go to the ball and he's probably getting ready to leave about now, so Davin needs to get this over with. It's a real shame. He would have loved to see Jameson all dressed up.

He sighs and sits down on the couch with a glass of whiskey and soda and a bag of cookies, preparing for a night of sulking in front of the television. After swallowing hard, he hits call and brings the phone to his ear.

After Lara leaves, Davin aches more than he did in her presence. Maybe whatever she was doing to him stopped working when she left, or maybe he was just distracted enough by her that his pain took a backseat. Either way, it's back now.

There's a small bit of healing potion left but he doesn't use it, not right away. He's still wary of his magic, still too familiar with how his power affected him when he was backed into a corner. He's not ready to go wielding it again, not yet.

He wants to crawl into bed and hide from the world and not think about anything, like about how he'll run the shop with half the staff and more business than ever, or how at some point he'll have to go scrub his own blood off of the floor of his office. He doesn't want to think about what he must have done to deserve this.

He's standing in the middle of his living room at kind of a loss, but he knows that he needs to make a call. He trusts Lara and her siren contact at the hospital to be discreet, but it's a small town full of big mouths. Word about what happened could be making its way around town by now.

The last thing he wants is for Mira to hear some telephone game version of events. It's funny that his first thought is to call Mira, and not his mother. She'd probably just ask him why he let him get his ass kicked. She's not going to soothe him, or mother him. She's never done that.

Davin clears his head of such thoughts and pulls out his phone, wincing as he jostles his broken finger. He pulls up his favorites and taps Mira's name, trying to figure out how to make his voice not sound like he's been gargling whiskey and broken glass by the time she answers.

[trigger warning: comments will likely include discussion of violence, injury, and homophobia]

Davin Kavanagh

Entries tagged with loc; davin's apartment

so darling, darling stand by me (closed; mira, raleigh. dated to 5/20.)

losing track of time inside this racing heart (closed; jameson. set to wednesday afternoon.)

the weight of living (closed; mira. timed to tuesday afternoon.)

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