![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
He picks at a slice of the pie, eating off the crust tidily, thoughtful.
"I don't see as how it'd be expensive to ask other folk to help you not get lost, so I'm guessing it needs more'n talk and company."
"I don't see as how it'd be expensive to ask other folk to help you not get lost, so I'm guessing it needs more'n talk and company."
Sweeney tips his head, as if weighing the suggestion.
"I got someone that helps me. Can't stop me from gettin' lost, but helps me get back ta the present as quick as I'm able." He's grateful for her every day. Sweeney can't imagine how he'd manage without her.
"I got someone that helps me. Can't stop me from gettin' lost, but helps me get back ta the present as quick as I'm able." He's grateful for her every day. Sweeney can't imagine how he'd manage without her.
He nods, steady.
"That's as good. Should I know who it is, so's I can get her if you need?"
"That's as good. Should I know who it is, so's I can get her if you need?"
He swallows, a clear hesitancy catching him in the question. After a breath too long, he shakes his head, trying to shrug it off casually.
"Nah. She f'gures it out. 'pparently, I ain't a hard read." Even at a distance. She's private, and he doesn't want to complicate anything by burdening her with the worries of others. She'll find him, he's certain.
"Normally, I just hole up in my cabin an' let shit blows o'ver."
"Nah. She f'gures it out. 'pparently, I ain't a hard read." Even at a distance. She's private, and he doesn't want to complicate anything by burdening her with the worries of others. She'll find him, he's certain.
"Normally, I just hole up in my cabin an' let shit blows o'ver."
Sam nods again, though not without a long look at him.
"You can come by here, too, if you need." Because he saw the way he looked at the garden.
"You can come by here, too, if you need." Because he saw the way he looked at the garden.
Sweeney accepts the offer without protest, though he doesn't know if he'd take Sam up on it. There's a level of intimacy there that he just hasn't found with many people. Realistically, only Tiffany and Swamp Rat. They let him be naked enough to be fucked up.
"'ppreciate it." His gaze wanders over the space. "Sure is hell'uva lot nicer than my fuckin' motel room."
"'ppreciate it." His gaze wanders over the space. "Sure is hell'uva lot nicer than my fuckin' motel room."
Please let me know if you need any assistance cleaning or repairing up the dining hall, Gamgee-san.
[A little reluctantly]
Really could use it, if it's no trouble. Looks like an orc camp, and Mister Hands gone off to have his leg taken care of.
Really could use it, if it's no trouble. Looks like an orc camp, and Mister Hands gone off to have his leg taken care of.
No trouble at all. I'll head there now.
When he gets to the dining all, Sam is working on the floor. The burnmarks have to go, they can't stay there and be a reminder. He has a rough cloth and vinegar in hot water, and is diligently working at the black stain.
Kiryu shows up with a few scrub brushes and his tool box. He'll walk up to Samwise and, after a nod, roll up his sleeves and start in to scrubbing as well.
Sam works in silence a little longer, occasionally drawing the short, sturdy knife he carries on his belt to scrape up char.
"Can't let any a'those see the burns. That boy or Miss Maggie or the other miss."
"Can't let any a'those see the burns. That boy or Miss Maggie or the other miss."
He nods, giving a grunt to the affirmative.
"I have sandpaper in the box. We can sand the worst of it off."
"I have sandpaper in the box. We can sand the worst of it off."
"Sandpaper?" The name's pretty self-explanatory, but Sam's never seen it before. He pushes himself back to his feet, and goes to poke around in Kiryu's toolbox. "D'you have a good oil? None of the oils back there look dark enough t'match."
He nods.
"I built the booths to match what was there. And I still had supplies. I brought that."
"I built the booths to match what was there. And I still had supplies. I brought that."
"Good, good... Maybe we can make all of it just- disappear."
Sam turns the sandpaper over in his hands, and finds the block to wrap it around. "Like a holystone, then. Just what this needs."
Sam turns the sandpaper over in his hands, and finds the block to wrap it around. "Like a holystone, then. Just what this needs."
"Hai."
He'll keep working on the spots to prep them for when Sam gets to them with the sandpaper. Four hands are better than two, after all.
He'll keep working on the spots to prep them for when Sam gets to them with the sandpaper. Four hands are better than two, after all.
Sam slept two full days after Hilbert got him the good drugs. When he finally wakes, he's quiet and loggy, his face so lined he looks like he's aged a few years since the cave-in. But he's alert. And all too soon, he's fretting about missed hours. And what this treatment will cost.
The worrying is almost as bad as the wound. By the time anyone else is actually around, he's already trying to get himself out of bed, teetering around his room with a pair of crutches he really shouldn't have yet.
The worrying is almost as bad as the wound. By the time anyone else is actually around, he's already trying to get himself out of bed, teetering around his room with a pair of crutches he really shouldn't have yet.
Harry should absolutely not be back already. If anything he should be back in Cybele, making his appeal to his uncle as to why he shouldn't be punished for disappearing for multiple days, but. There was still more to do, here.
Which is why he ends up at the mines early in the morning, to see what he can do to help; and why he finds Samwise struggling to get his crutches under him.
"Sam!" His own lingering exhaustion is immediately forgotten as he goes to try and help the miners sit back down. "You shouldn't be up yet!"
Which is why he ends up at the mines early in the morning, to see what he can do to help; and why he finds Samwise struggling to get his crutches under him.
"Sam!" His own lingering exhaustion is immediately forgotten as he goes to try and help the miners sit back down. "You shouldn't be up yet!"
Sam leans much more heavily on Harry than he'd like, but he makes a frustrated noise at being guided back to the edge of his bed.
"No, I've got to be walking," he protests, holding tightly to one of the crutches. "I can't work if I don't walk."
"No, I've got to be walking," he protests, holding tightly to one of the crutches. "I can't work if I don't walk."
Harry has better than two feet of height on Sam, and only one of them is still on a lot of painkillers. It's not hard to keep him from getting back up, despite Sam's huff of frustration.
"I can't 'fford to be down for long. They'll give my spot away, I'll be back on the breakline."
"I can't 'fford to be down for long. They'll give my spot away, I'll be back on the breakline."
"I can pay." The words come out too quickly, eagerly to the point of almost sounding desperate. He can't do anything useful, he was barely helpful during the actual cave-in Harry this is patently false and he was so shaken afterwards that he had nightmares all night, but money he can help with. "I-I can-- what do you need? I can see what we can get imported down here for you, to help you heal better."
He stares at the kid, and scrubs his bandaged hand hard across his eyes, shaking his head. "No, y'can't. I owe more money then I've ever 'ad, more'n my old Gaffer's hydro-farm was worth. Been chippin' away at it for years, working up to the tunnel crews, and I 'ad my eye on supervisor next, if I kept workin' hard, but now..."
Page 2 of 3