au time is fun time! [for Chris]

[stranded_n_emo]

Parties. Sam fuckin' hated the things. Oh sure, it was a great excuse to get drunk providing that the bartender of the evening didn't bother to ask how old you were. Tonight, unfortunately, was one of those fucking nights. Whoever let House bartend was on Sam's shitlist, that was for damn sure

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[chris_cutter]

"Whoa," Chris remarked, immediately moving to try to break Sam's fault even though it was already way too late since the guy was flat on his ass. "Little too much to drink, man?" he asked, his lips quirked into a gently teasing smile as he leaned down to help him back up.

[stranded_n_emo]

Sam winced as he accepted the hand up. "Didn't get a drop," he replied bitterly while he shot a sullen glare at House. Damn gimp.

"I'm good, thanks man." It was a great attempt at assertion in the positive on Sam's part, but in about two seconds was proven entirely untrue. He tried to turn to shift his weight more evenly on his sore foot and found himself reaching out to catch himself against Chris again.

Okay...ankles weren't supposed to do that.

[chris_cutter]

Chris was quicker that time and managed to catch Sam against him, an arm immediately winding around to hold him by his waist.

"Yeah, you're okay," Chris said with a quiet laugh, the sarcasm evident as he shifted to get a better grip and glanced down at Sam's twisted foot. "Think you can put any weight on it at all?"

[stranded_n_emo]

Sam immediately threw his pride out the window. Now that he was actually looking at it, it fuckin HURT. He sucked a deep breath through his teeth.

Chris's question wasn't answered right away. Sam took a few long moments to consider his position to the entrance of the compound and then to the clinic where (hopefully) they had some ace bandages. He worried his lower lip between his teeth while he thought and finally broke the silence with, "I can, but I'm not going to be able to do it the whole way."