davin: (beaten)
(trigger warnings: references to injuries. possible references to violence/homophobia in the comments.)

It's been nearly a week since the... attack, he guesses you would call it. Since he got his ass kicked, is more what he would say. But still, Davin has been cooped up in his apartment for five days and he's starting to go a little stir crazy. He has to get outside or he's going to lose it.

He has only taken a few of the painkillers that the doctor at the hospital prescribed, usually before bed so the pain subsides enough for him to sleep. Today he's feeling a bit better. Broken ribs are no picnic, but today he finds that he can move around relatively easily. It still hurts like a bitch, but it's not unbearable. The last of his potion helped a little, and he bets if he got another set of x-rays done the damage wouldn't be as bad. He pops an ibuprofen and half of a painkiller just to take the edge off before getting dressed and then heads outside. He slips his sunglasses onto his face, which doesn't really hide all the bruising, but covers the worst of it. All the swelling has gone down and his lip has healed, for which he's grateful. And at least no one can see what his chest looks like. It's covered in dark purple bruises which are just starting to turn yellow and brown at the edges.

The fresh, cool air and sunshine makes him feel better immediately, and he takes a deep breath. It hurts like hell, but the doctor had told him that it was important to do that occasionally. He sneaks around the back of the bakery before Maddy can scold him for being up and about. She's been bringing him meals every day, making sure he's alright, and Davin wishes very much that she was his mother. If his own mother knows what happened at all, it's because she heard it from someone else. And if she did, she hasn't called him. Neither has his father. Hell, he's not even sure his father would think he didn't deserve it.

A lot of people probably heard it from someone else. Siren Cove is a small town full of gossips and he knows that word of what happened has probably gotten around by now. He hasn't really seen anyone but his friends who came over to check on him, and he loves them, he really does. It kills him to not be at work, but he trusts Jason to hold down the fort. He'll have to schedule appointments in the future for extensive jobs that need Davin, and he's had to scale back how much work they take on, but he's handling it. Davin is planning on asking Jason to work for him full time, if he'd like.

Walking hurts, but it always feels good to be up and moving. He was so restless and he needs this, he knows he does. He has no real destination in mind, but he thinks that he might head for the water. It's cold outside, but sunny and bright, and he'd like to get in some good outdoors time before the weather goes to hell. Plus, the town is always done up so beautifully for Christmas, and he wants to get a good look at all the decorations.

A few people stare at him as he passes, and a few whisper to the people that they're with, but Davin doesn't let it bother him. What happened was bullshit, and really upsetting, but he's not going to let it destroy him.

Still, a familiar face to distract him from the looky-loos wouldn't go unappreciated.


[find davin anywhere around town! not a completely terrible time to meet him either, all things considered.]
davin: (beaten)
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.
davin: (beaten)
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: (tearful)



TRIGGER WARNINGS: graphic physical violence and hate speech (including derogatory slurs) both inflicted upon a gay character.


I’m sorry it’s gotten so bad, kid. I had no idea.

It had taken weeks to get Tom on the phone long enough to have a proper conversation, as he’s been off deep sea fishing in Mexico, and Davin is so grateful to finally be able to talk to the owner of the shop about things. He’s been dreading coming to work lately, and he just wants to get rid of the two assholes making his life a living hell. Thankfully, Tom seems to be in agreement.

“They’ve just worked for ya forever,” Davin explains. He’s holed up in his office at the shop, and he can hear Mel and Hank’s loud, annoying laughter filtering through his door. Everyone else has gone home for the night. “I didn’t want t’do anythin’ without consultin’ ya.”

Davin, I put you in charge for a reason, didn’t I? Hell, I’m practically retired,” Tom tells him, and Davin bites his lip against a small swell of gratitude. “It’s gonna be yours one day, isn’t it? You’re keeping that place afloat, kid. It’s thriving under your leadership, and if you want to get rid of two assholes I hired way back before I found a goddamn prodigy like you, be my guest. I trust you. And I’ll be back soon. I’m bringing you a shot glass with naked ladies on it. They didn’t have one with naked guys.

Davin is overwhelmed from all the nice things Tom says. No one has ever really believed in him like Tom has, and he can’t help but to laugh about the thing with the shot glass. Not long after Davin started working at the shop one of the guys saw him out on a date and brought the gossip back like a seventh grade girl, effectively outing him. It’s not like Davin was in the closet, hadn’t been since high school, but he felt no need to advertise it at work. Tom had seemed put off by it just like the rest of them and that broke Davin’s heart, but it wasn’t long before Tom started to open up his mind and accept Davin for who he was and change his whole attitude about homosexuality. He’s not going to go marching with PFLAG or anything, but he no longer sees it like it’s something terrible.

“Thanks, Tom.” Davin says tiredly. It’s like a weight has been lifted, and now all he has to do is actually fire them. “I appreciate it.”

No problem, kid. Just be careful, alright? Mel’s meaner than a junkyard dog and Hank ain’t much better,” Tom tells him, like Davin was unaware. “They’re not gonna take it well.

“I got it. See ya soon, old man.” Davin hangs up the phone and takes a deep breath, scrubbing his hands over his face as he stands up. He’s got everything ready, like their last paychecks and termination notices, and now he just has to call them in and do it. He takes a step away from his desk and bites his lip, going back to turn on his webcam and turn it to face the rest of the room with the computer monitor still off. He’s a little nervous, but he’s not going to back down. He’s also not going to let them get away with any bullshit.

Part of him thinks that he should wait for Tom to get back, or maybe have Jason around just in case, but he’s just so tired. He wants it over with. He leans out of his office and searches around until he spots them over by a Lexus with fender damage. Davin can pop that dent out of place with his magic tomorrow no problem, and then it just needs a new paint job. “Mel, Hank, can ya come in here? I need t’speak with ya.”

“Oh, sounds like we’re in trouble with her majesty,” Mel says to Hank, who snorts unattractively. Davin rolls his eyes. “Coming, princess.”

Davin goes back into his office and leans against his desk, waiting for them to amble in. When they do, he takes a deep breath and picks up two envelopes, handing one to each of them. “I’m letting ya both go. Here’s your final paychecks.”

There, like a Band-Aid. If only it were that simple.

cut for length and content. trigger warnings apply within. )

Profile

davin: (Default)
Davin Kavanagh