Well THAT Was Graceful...
Castiel, Lysander and Dimitry
PG-13 (+)?
Comedy with hints of tragedy.
Lysander awoke with a stabbing pain in his chest, and felt as though his legs weren't connected to his body. But that was silly.. they must've just been numb or something. He had a glance around in the cold, dark room only to realise that he wasn't even in a room.
The night before came flooding back to him and he groaned and let his head fall onto the soft thing underneath him.
The 'soft thing' cried in agony and threw him off. Castiel rolled over and buried his face into his arm and breathed heavily. He felt like his whole body had been set on fire and had been left to blister. The cold was certainly not helping his cause. With blurry vision he strained his sore eyes around and then his concentration locked on his best friend who was there...
With no legs.
"AAAAAAAH!" Castiel tired to get up and scramble away but the blistered feeling hadn't left him just yet, and his own legs were so weak, the trembles from the fear of seeing his best friend in such a way was making him completely physically dysfunctional.
Lysander sat up with his elbow and then had a look down. He wasn't bleeding, as the street light from a few meters away indicated, but surely enough his legs had been 'relocated' to about half a foot away from the rest of his legs, their once-was resting spot, cut just about where his boots began.
Lysander gawked in half horror, and half wonder as to how- but then decided not to think about it.
"At least it was a clean cut." He monotonously uttered, his throat a little dry,"Thank heavens the boots were spared." He sighed.
"Your legs... your-your-your" Castiel looked away and tried not to vomit. How cold he be so nonchalant about this?
Lysander glanced over at his friend with a less than impressed expression only to have it be transformed to horror.
Castiel glared at him and in the moment was edgy enough to push him away, "WHAT?" he snapped, "What's wrong with me? Is my face still on? What are you looking at me like that for?" He carried on.
"Uh... barely?" Lys uttered again.
Just as the two were sitting there trying to come to terms what had happened last night on the road, or rather a few hours ago it seemed, since it was clearly still night, a voice appeared out of nowhere, it's body soon following.
"Well... THAT was graceful you two."
A tall young man dressed in clothing similar to that of Lysander, with long flowing black hair and a dreary look in his eye came into view. A burnt out car to the far left now visible to the two boys. It ws now clear to them that whatever had happened last night had not been good.
They looked up to the strange man who simply looked back down, rubbing his face exasperatedly.
"Sigh... this is going to be difficult." He groaned.