(no subject)

Sam's leg is fucked, but at least they've managed to get him to the hospital in the middle of the still raging fucking snowstorm. During the drive it had seemed like the wind might have been calming down here and there, but Sweeney doesn't know if he'd just been looking for a break or if it had actually happened. Either way, they're here and the doctors have taken Sam into surgery and Lisbeth's going to tear the fucking walls down soon unless he gets her to chill the fuck out.

Spike has left him to deal with this and Sweeney wouldn't say for sure that Spike is afraid of Lisbeth, but he can see why he might not want to be around her at the moment.

They're both in rough shape, but Lisbeth's wearing a hell of a lot more blood than he is. All kinds, too. Human, goblin, who the fuck knows what else. She's practically painted with it and Sweeney's not sure she's going to take too kindly to him dragging her off to a bathroom, but it has to happen. There's no way in hell they're going to let her in to see Sam once he's stabilized if she's carrying a hundred different possible ways of giving him an infection.

The trick is getting her to come willingly.

"Hey," he says, not sharp, but none too gently either. "You keep glaring at those nurses and they're gonna kick your ass outta here before they let you see your man. You want that?"