"Sonic, wear the damn sling,"
"No. You can't make me,"
"Wear it or so help me god!"
Sonic huffed petulantly. "I'm not wearing it." He looked away. Tom growled. "Bud, I'm not messing. Put the goddamn sling on!" Sonic sighed loudly. "Nope," He shifted on the couch, directing his injured arm away. "Fine!" Tom spat. "Let it break. You won't be able to use it properly again, but hey, it's not my arm,"
Sonic stewed for a moment. "Ugh, fine." He sighed. "I'll wear the stupid sling," He refused to meet his dad's eyes, handing over the fabric. His arm ached painfully, a sign he was due more painkillers. "Ok. Hold still, it'll only be a minute," Sonic winced, biting back whimpers as the appendage was moved into the fabric. "I know, bud, I'm sorry. It's nearly done,"
He sniffled, wiping his eyes. "All done. I'll get your painkillers. You got some water?" Tom squeezed his shoulder as he went by. "No, I need some," He said quietly. Tom tutted sympathetically as he moved. "How did you even do it? All your coach said was an injury on the field," He called. Sonic hissed when his arm throbbed. "I slid and hit the ground wrong," He said. Tom hummed. He came back in, passing some white pills over. Sonic threw them back with a swig of water. "Thanks," He said.
He felt Tom's eyes on him. "Hm. Alright, get your shoes on. We're going to the movies. You need cheering up,"