one attempt at one-eyed brunch [21/??? artefacts collected]
[ It's been almost a week since ex-mafia!Philip had a very unfortunate event run-in with still-mafia!Dean. The result? His previous Wonderland lives are still intact, but he's down one eye and his arm isn't doing so well either. And that's the understatement of the day
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What he did think about was how to face Dean again.
He was hoping he could be the one to make the first move, but he was also hoping for a point further ahead in time that would give him a chance at recovering sufficiently to smile out of conviction rather than the fact that he's practically chugged a whole pharmacy of painkillers.
As for his reaction, he--
He immediately scolds himself for flinching at Dean's voice. ]
{ Hurry, monkey, get outta here! He's gonna finish the job! }
[Well. That's one week worth of nightmares for you.
As for his reaction, if necessary he is determined and ready to show Dean the same amount of obnoxiously persistent forgiveness his friend once offered him. ]
Don't worry, I- I've got this.
[ Scooping up the glass precariously Philip stands and turns to face Dean. That expression, full-blown ( ... )
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What was the family business, again? Saving people? Hunting things? When was the last time he did either of those? So far he's managed to make new friends, mutilate said friends, and refrain from getting any monster-hunting done outside of one pathetic attempt against the slender fiend out in the woods.
Better off dead? Maybe. Better off going home. At least he knows what he's up against there.
Dean clears his throat awkwardly and shifts. Philip is wearing sunglasses - good job there, too, because it's probably awful and Dean would almost rather have him looking like Elwood Blues than like he went ten rounds with a meat tenderizer.
His arm is in a sling. His good arm in a sling, because Dean shot him. The writhing feeling in his stomach threatening to make him throw up what little he ate for breakfast (i.e, nothing), Dean takes a careful, ( ... )
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[ Sadly Philip does indeed know that look. It's a look that says Dean's direct speech to angsty inner monologue ratio is currently somewhere around 1:30. So much for filing a patent for that one day. ]
I'd let you cut the onions, but you already look like you're about to cry.
[ Thing is, after everything the hunter said to Philip, after the things he told him to get him back on his feet, after all that Dean is simply not allowed to feel miserable about this. ]
Hand me the butter?
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Anyway, Santana walks in, wearing shorts and a bikini top because it turns out she likes the pool more than for one day only, and she definitely doesn't notice (or care about?) any injury at first. Which is why her greeting is as follows:]
...Nice mess you're making. Oh hey, sunglasses indoors, too. Should I be smelling your breath for alcohol or something?
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The hangover impression is probably not helped by a brain that is not feeling so well from eye-deprivation headaches and one week worth of self-medication. ]
Sorry, I- what?
[ Putting the wet towel away Philip stands slowly and leans against the counter. ]
No, I- I'm not, I didn't drink.
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[She steps over a further-reaching shard of glass on her way to the fridge. Clearly she will be very helpful.]
What happened to your arm?
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[ That will have to do as an answer to both questions, because honestly? Philip miiiight not be too happy to see Santana right now. She has a knack for involving him in conversations that turn very uncomfortable very fast and it's really not like his current situation needs much of a shove to get there. ]
So how-- How was your event?
[ Battle strategy: Persistently keeping the subject off of himself until Santana leaves. ]
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She didn't expect to encounter one of the nicest people she's met here so far, though he looks a little worse for wear. On her end, the event wasn't particularly dangerous. She has yet to consider the fact that it could have been nearly fatal for others.]
...Philip?
[She fetches a dishtowel and mops up some of the milk on the counter.]
Did you spi- Oh, my.
[His arm wasn't in a sling the last time she saw him. Yeah, that's...different. Have a healthy dose of concern from a well-meaning source.]
...your arm. What happened?
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Evelyn. Hey...
[ Although the narration supposes that clarification is in order: Seeing Evelyn again easily makes the top five of good things to happen to Philip in this mansion. Talking to her was a fantastic break from all the unpleasant things Wonderland has dished out to him so far.
But seeing Evelyn again now means there is practically no way Philip can avoid those things entirely while he's still a walking advertisement for their consequences. ]
You don't have to-- I've got this.
[ He stands and dries the last splashes of milk before wiping his hands.
So far so good. And what happened?Of course he's been thinking about what to tell other people. Alex, for instance, already knows he was attacked. No point in altering that story, although he'll keep swearing he never saw the attacker coming ( ... )
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Years of living with her brother and men in high, authoritative positions have certainly trained her to know when to stop asking questions, although that doesn't necessarily mean that she will.]
A bookshop.
[She repeats, looking dubious. Everyone else appeared to have rather dangerous, life-threatening jobs during the event, and Philip owned a bookshop. Well, good for him, then, despite the injury. At least he wasn't out and about flailing a gun.]
If you're quite sure you're going to be all right...
[But really, why is he wearing those sunglasses?]
...is there anything I can do to help?
[Cooking with one arm has to be difficult.]
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[ He cracks two eggs into the pan. Random breakfast generator part 2: Fried eggs and bacon and spam, spam, spaaaaaam, lovely spaaaaaaaaam! ]
That's just my luck.
[ Cooking with one arm is a challenge to say the least, but two days of trial and error (with emphasis on the error) have increased Philip's proficiency in one-armed cooking to a sufficiently non-catastrophic level. ]
But I- I'll be fine, I'll-- Could you hand me the breadbasket though?
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