Entry tags:
Law man has put an end to my running and I'm so far from my home.
If he expected to wake up at all, it was in a hospital bed, clinging to life while strapped to a bunch of shit creating a soundtrack of high-pitched beeping that would threaten to send him over the edge, making him even crazier than that trapeze artist who once tricked him into break-up sex only to try to squeeze the breath from him between her impressively toned thighs. Such was his reward for selflessly offering to take the first turn.
Instead, he comes to slumped in the window seat in a fancy train car the likes of which he's only seen in very old movies. He wasn't even sure these things ran anymore except from coast to coast, and sure as hell not departing from anywhere near Schenectady. His best theory is that Robin found him somehow, dragged his ass onto the first train out and they're on the run now, headed away from his son and Ro at fuck-all miles per hour. And if that's the case, he just might shoot Robin this time, 'cause that wasn't his choice to make and it definitely wasn't the one Luke would have made for himself. He almost thinks that looking at the same three walls and sixteen vertical bars in that jail cell for the next however many years might be worth the occasional visit from his son. With his kid in the rearview, there's nothing the west could offer him now. He makes to get up and find that son of a bitch Robin, to see if he can finally drill that into his fucking head, but trying to sit up sends a sharp wave of agony through his right side, reaching deep down someplace where he's never felt more than the occasional pang of hunger. He grunts and collapses back into the seat, gagging and panting like he's just run a 5K.
It takes him what feels like at least half an hour to lift himself onto his feet, then another ten minutes to haul himself the few feet down the aisle to wait by the door. Between then and the time it takes for the train to reach whatever station it finally rolls into, he guesses it's been an hour since he first woke, and he's feeling lightheaded and weak as he stumbles onto the platform, reluctantly beginning to accept that his only option now is to find an emergency room. The front of his coveralls are soaked through with more blood than he knew he had. He starts walking toward the information kiosk at a snail's pace, each step exerting him more than every weight-lifting session he's ever endured, and after only five measly steps he's falling forward onto the ground, wheezing. He realizes, vaguely, how strange it is that the train car was entirely empty, and that there not be another soul on the platform in what looks like the middle of the afternoon. He doesn't know how he got away from that cop and that house, from the whole damn town, but if he makes it through this injury, he might just be home free. The cop couldn't have had any time to make his face, it all happened to fast; if he survives, he could sneak back into town without anyone the wiser. Suddenly, there's nothing else for him to do but to make it out of this alive and get back to Jason and Ro, 'cause if he's getting this second chance, it must be for a reason. For that reason.
Fighting through the blinding pain, Luke makes yet another attempt to climb back onto his feet, grunting as loud as he will since no one's around to hear either way. And if someone is, shit, even he's not pigheaded enough to deny that he could use their help right now.
Instead, he comes to slumped in the window seat in a fancy train car the likes of which he's only seen in very old movies. He wasn't even sure these things ran anymore except from coast to coast, and sure as hell not departing from anywhere near Schenectady. His best theory is that Robin found him somehow, dragged his ass onto the first train out and they're on the run now, headed away from his son and Ro at fuck-all miles per hour. And if that's the case, he just might shoot Robin this time, 'cause that wasn't his choice to make and it definitely wasn't the one Luke would have made for himself. He almost thinks that looking at the same three walls and sixteen vertical bars in that jail cell for the next however many years might be worth the occasional visit from his son. With his kid in the rearview, there's nothing the west could offer him now. He makes to get up and find that son of a bitch Robin, to see if he can finally drill that into his fucking head, but trying to sit up sends a sharp wave of agony through his right side, reaching deep down someplace where he's never felt more than the occasional pang of hunger. He grunts and collapses back into the seat, gagging and panting like he's just run a 5K.
It takes him what feels like at least half an hour to lift himself onto his feet, then another ten minutes to haul himself the few feet down the aisle to wait by the door. Between then and the time it takes for the train to reach whatever station it finally rolls into, he guesses it's been an hour since he first woke, and he's feeling lightheaded and weak as he stumbles onto the platform, reluctantly beginning to accept that his only option now is to find an emergency room. The front of his coveralls are soaked through with more blood than he knew he had. He starts walking toward the information kiosk at a snail's pace, each step exerting him more than every weight-lifting session he's ever endured, and after only five measly steps he's falling forward onto the ground, wheezing. He realizes, vaguely, how strange it is that the train car was entirely empty, and that there not be another soul on the platform in what looks like the middle of the afternoon. He doesn't know how he got away from that cop and that house, from the whole damn town, but if he makes it through this injury, he might just be home free. The cop couldn't have had any time to make his face, it all happened to fast; if he survives, he could sneak back into town without anyone the wiser. Suddenly, there's nothing else for him to do but to make it out of this alive and get back to Jason and Ro, 'cause if he's getting this second chance, it must be for a reason. For that reason.
Fighting through the blinding pain, Luke makes yet another attempt to climb back onto his feet, grunting as loud as he will since no one's around to hear either way. And if someone is, shit, even he's not pigheaded enough to deny that he could use their help right now.