maskormenacelogs | i hope you're satisfied but if you ain't don't blame me

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i hope you're satisfied but if you ain't don't blame me

WHO: April Ludgate, Saul Goodman, and Will Graham
WHERE: Casa Ludgate-Graham
WHEN: Saturday, December 12th
WHAT: Saul and Will's date with Jesse went really poorly and now Will's bringing home another lawyer in the hopes April can fix his busted self.
WARNINGS: Mentions of violence? Cursing? Will update if needed.

[Nice to have his powers back, though he hadn't expected that the first thing he'd do with them would be crafting a stag through blinding eye pain, tears streaking down his face. Made the thing seem even more hellish than usual, but oh well. He couldn't carry Saul by himself, and even if he could have, shadow stag transportation had proved extremely effective in the past. After sending April a short message to meet him in their bedroom in ten minutes, off they went. So maybe the ride had its bumps and discomfort, wouldn't anything? At least Saul had an effective human barrier behind him, one that couldn't turn intangible for any reason. One that had tears leaking out of his eyes as the stag shot through the quickest paths to Will's house, but he'd be shocked if Saul wasn't feeling those same waterworks. Damn that Walter White.

Last fence cleared, Will slid off to approach his bedroom window. Like hell he was letting the rest of the house see him like this, and like hell was he bringing in another lawyer where everyone could see it. He's got the finagling his bedroom window down to a fast art at this point, slides the glass open not long after he's first touched it, and does his best to make Saul's descent into the room as painless as possible.

He's still got tears in his eyes off and on, which he ignores as he keeps his focus on Saul, calling in for April.]

Can we borrow your healing skills, honey?

[Keeping their bedroom life interesting, always.]

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[ When a wife gets a text from her husband about immediate bedroom needs, certain expectations are involved. Particularly when said wife and husband have had talks about him giving her a heads up before going on dates with psychos, meaning that, clearly, this had to be a sexy time text. So when the window opens, April is positioned in her best over the top 'come hither' look in panties and plaid shirt alone on the bed-

Which is immediately ruined by the mess of men spilling onto her bedroom floor. Not that it looked like either of them could even see her, but she's suddenly glad she'd gone with wearing Will's buttoned shirt. She scrambles off the bed to kneel next to the pair. ]

What the hell?!

[Hey, April.

Saul can't see her, nor can he tell where he is. All he knows is that Will, like a knight in shining armor, hauled his ass somewhere safe, and now he can kind of breathe again. You know, crushing pain in his chest aside.

He groans and tries to roll onto his side, but mostly only succeeds in moving just enough to cause himself more pain.]

[Good Lord, his wife is hot. Why is his wife so hot? Why is something more important than his wife being sexy happening? He makes a note to himself that if such a situation happens ever again, he'll delay long enough to send a more thorough message. Not that he'll think Saul is going to remember this, not right off the bat. Seems like he's very close to pining for the fjords.]

He's been hurt. Internally. [He explains, getting down to a knee next to her with one hand carefully going out to Saul's shoulder. Stop rolling, buddy. It'll only make things worse. Even the nightmare stag is concerned, watching through the open window now.] Only other healer I know put him in this state—can you do anything for him?

[They can put him in the attic after, if he wants, and then discuss April's sexiness.]

You-

[Will was also in a state. Less than this one, but still-

Argh. She can't deal with it right now. Not when her carpet and legs might get covered in man vomit and blood if this guy explodes or something. Saul totally owed Sabriel a dinner for this one. It's not like most people just handed out healing talent.

There is chanting involved, and it's not instant. But it kick starts the healing processes and will probably end the groaning mess issue. If not the scowling April one.]

[Saul owes everyone dinner.

Just when he's almost certain his lungs are about to collapse, the pain starts to subside. It's not nearly as quick as he'd like, but it's just enough to get him breathing a little more calmly.

He blinks a few tears out of his eyes, tilts his head to look at whoever's standing above him, and sees April. He knows her. He knows he knows her, he's seen her before. They talked. In reality, Saul has better things to worry about, but it's nice to spare some brainpower to try to remember how he and April met instead of dwelling on the memory of Jesse's expression as he tried to kill Saul a second time.

And then it hits him, and he says:] Raccoons.

[No more near-death groaning? Will takes his hand back so April can do her magic, and as soon as it starts working, he moves it to rest on the floor behind her, planting himself firmly on his ass for a few seconds' breather. This is good. He can give a further explanation once Saul isn't practically dying.

He glances around for a moment, confused, looking for the fuzzy bunch before he realizes they may be what Saul associates with April the most. They're not quiet about her powers, after all, and once he puts two and two together, he lets out a short, sad excuse for a laugh.]

Queen of the Raccoons to you.

[Starting the "please forgive me for springing this on you" campaign early, he is.]

[ April sits back on her heels with a heavy sigh as the guy at least says something. That was a good sign. Probably. None of her other healing stints had been life and death stuff. Which means Will's quip isn't buying him too many points after this early christmas present. April's fairly clearly too shaken for thinking about the joys of make up activities yet. ]

Her majesty demands answers.

[Queen of the trash-eating vermin. Sure. He can dig it.]

It's my fault.

[Saul tries to sit up, which proves to be a Very Bad Idea. Okay, fine; he'll have this conversation from the floor, then. Wouldn't be the first time this has happened, probably won't be the last. He runs a hand over his face to brush some hair away, managing to groan only a little.]

I asked Will to come with me to a meeting I knew would be dangerous. I just didn't realize —

[April probably doesn't need to know about Jesse's new powers, and Saul's pretty sure Will knows where he was going with that.]

I'm sorry.

[That's for both of them.]

[That's a sort of answer. He feels maybe Saul thinks Certain Things need to be kept under wraps. And, maybe, for Saul, they do. But this isn't his first rodeo with Albuquerque, which means April has had to deal with the fallout before. Trying to keep an honest line of communication involves honesty and communication, so after Saul gets out his apology, Will looks from him to April and hopes to make more sense of things. Bluntly.]

Walter White showed up. He wasn't invited, or I would have told you. [There are very few secrets in this family, sorry Saul.] Made some sort of tear gas, that's why I'm... [Gesturing to his face, his teary, teary face.] ...things got a little out of control.

[Homemade tear gas and Jesse Pinkman nearly a destroying a bar and Saul in his rage = "a little out of control."]

Oh my god.

[April looked down at Saul, a sudden judging in her gaze that wasn't there before. Logically, she should have the same look for Will. But she loved Will, she married Will, Will got away with a lot of shit. She did not have those biases towards the bleeding man on her carpet. Any meeting Walter White showed up to was clearly a bad choice to begin with.]

What is wrong with you people?

[Yeah, yeah. He knows, April. He knows.

Saul shrinks away from her gaze and decides now is a good time to shut up and let Will do the rest of the talking for now. Whatever excuse or apology he can come up with won't be enough — not that he can blame April for being upset, of course — and he's sick of trying to Fix Things today.

He just wants to rest a little.]

[The joys of marriage—getting away with so much shit. Will isn't the one who felt the most (physical) pain tonight, though, so he doesn't get to revel in this. Not with Saul on the floor like some poor, beaten, sad bastard.]

Probably get better answers out of him once he's had a chance to recover, April. [He goes with instead of his other thoughts. That what's wrong with Saul is similar to what's wrong with Will and Baltimore. One terribly insidious individual. But hell, he's not getting into that level of personal, not now.] We can stick him up in the attic for the night, can't we?

[Yes, he is actually asking. Will wouldn't mind Saul staying overnight, or as long as he needs to. April, however, is the one who gets the final say.]

[ April opens her mouth- then closes her mouth. She wants to know. She doesn't want to know. Mostly she wants to punch them both. And she can't. Instead she bows forward, her forehead actually touching Saul's shoulder in her grief and annoyance. ]

He looks worse than you after a man-date. He can...just give him the bed. We're not gonna need to tonight. Anyway.

[Well.

At least Saul was right to trust Will. If nothing else, at least he's come out of this whole fiasco with the knowledge that Will Graham is, in fact, good people. And so is his wife.

Sure, everything went to shit, but given what happened? This is a decent outcome. This is way better than lying outside the bar and waiting for help.

He just hopes Jesse isn't somewhere outside, waiting until the lights go out. He also hopes Walt isn't somewhere outside. Maybe they're going to go after each other. Maybe they'll both wind up dead.

That'd be nice.]

Listen — [Saul's sounding better and better by the minute. It might be the healing process, but it also might be adrenaline.] I already owe you, Will. You two can keep your bed — I'll be okay.

[also he doesn't want to get blood on the mattress or anything

he doesn't want will and april to gear up for a bone sesh one night and then have them suddenly remember that saul goodman bled in the spot where they're about to make sweet, sweet love

that would be awkward for everyone]

[Just slap him in the face with a bat, April, why don't you? He's vaguely horrified at the idea of Saul in their bed, not because of awkward sweet, sweet love later, but what does that mean, exactly? Is he in the dog house for the night? Not that that's so bad, really, he'll just go sleep in Abigail's room...which is the opposite of punishment, save the part where he might lose sleep watching her sleep, but. But. But! Is he in husband-wife trouble? Oh no.]

The attic's got beds in it. [He says to Saul after a moment of inner turmoil, slowly easing himself to a stand.] And a bathroom nearby, so you can...clean up. Stick around til morning and we'll have breakfast ready before you head out.

["We'll" here meaning Will (and possibly any of the kids who get up to help him in the kitchen) because Will really can't help himself some days. He's gotta feed 'em all.]

[ She raises an eyebrow, then, with a heavy sigh, sits back up a little. ]

No one's carrying people into the internet with emo face on.

[ Mr. crying husband. Even if it was thanks to tear gas. ]

[To Will:] That sounds great. Thank you.

[The earnestness in his voice surprises even him, but it is what it is.

As for what April just said... is that some new teen lingo? It's then that Saul realizes he's not totally sure how old she is, but whatever. Doesn't matter. All he wants to know now is: Who's going to help him up?

Because he's pretty sure he can make it up to the attic on his own two feet.

Like, at least 60% sure.]

You wanna heal me, too?

[In front of a guest? In their bedroom? How obscene. How titillating. Or not, considering Saul's all Mister Pain and Will's face makes it look like he's been marathoning Pixar movies for an entire day. April clad in panties and his plaid shirt is the only sexy thing in this room right now. Everything else is just Men In Pain.]

I'm not opposed.

[There goes another tear.]

[ She is silent for a long moment. Maybe too long a moment. A you might deserve this pain moment. Because, seriously. What the fuck was with these people?

But at the end of those ten seconds, he's still her husband. So he's getting healed with a cuddle. Even if that means April is more or less sitting on Saul's arm without pants on. ]

You're both terrible people. You and your whole worlds. I hate you.

[Truth be told, he's been in more awkward positions than this. He's also, oddly enough, had women inform him that he's a terrible person and they hate him while in some pretty awkward positions, so...

This is fine.

April and Will can do whatever they want; Saul's going to shut his eyes and try to relax until someone decides it's time to get him off of the floor.]

[This is fine indeed. Oddly, Will feels like this situation would be exactly the same if their live-in lawyer was on the floor. Maybe it's a law people thing? Whether they're moral or treat the word "ethics" like a slinky, they'll be cherished in such a manner however they find their way into this house. Good thing most imPorts seem familiar with odd functionality or complete dysfunctional set ups!

He's not even sure if healing is happening or it's just the power of April's cuddling. But he can breathe much easier and his eyes don't feel like leaky dams, so this is definitely more than fine. Will leans down to plant a quick-but-obnoxiously-loud kiss to her forehead like she didn't say anything about hating him a few seconds ago before nudging one of her elbows. Up, darling, you're sitting on the non-giant lawyer.]

Love you, too. [Sorry, Saul. They are That Couple. Don't look at their phone screens, it's just each other. Groce.] Can you get to your feet on your own, or you need some help?

[Take my hand we'll make it I swear, oh-ohhhhhh]

[ She frown at him some more- she'd claimed this lawyer in the name of queen April and who was Will to try and take it from her? Especially with the level of petulant that's building...but there is grossness that might start getting on her leg. So. He can have this round.

She gets up and steps back, letting Will do what must be done.]

Do I wanna ask why homemade tear gas came out?

[Saul grabs Will's hand and hauls himself up. It hurts, but he can tolerate the pain.

What he'd give to have had April around when Jesse busted his nose. Sigh.

Anyway, he wobbles a little once he's on his feet, but he seems to be okay. Comparatively okay, anyway, given the state he was in when Will carried him in here. He offers Will another grateful look, then glances over at April to answer her question. What he says is meant to kind of be a joke, but the effect is ruined by Saul's tousled hair, dazed expression, and the bit of dried blood in the corner of his mouth.]

Because Walter White fancies himself a supervillain.

[He'll add it onto the forgiveness train to come later. Worshiping at her altar. Shrine. Tomato, to-mah-toe.

He holds onto Saul as long as he needs to, until he's certain the man's got his footing. What's a little hand-holding between "in it together now" guys, right? Saul had at least called out for him in the disaster not too long ago, he had shown some concern in the not leaving Will Graham there just to save his ass. Or perhaps it was because Saul needed help saving his own ass—eh, whatever. Their agendas aligned well enough he doesn't need to ask or think on it too long.

And since Saul comes from the land that spat out Walter White, Saul gets the final say on this. Will grabs up a couple tissues from the nightstand and holds them out, gesturing toward Saul's mouth before he starts going through the dresser, apparently not at all bothered by the frankness of this conversation. Saul and he are not the same size, at all, but he can at least dredge up a too large undershirt and a pair of pajama pants with the adjustable waistband that are baggy even so on Will. Stuff he bought and never wears, obvious from the lack of animal fur on it. Fit for a lawyer in the attic.]

Then...he kinda is one.

[Not to burst any balloons kids, but he has superpowers and apparently a whole list of archenemies. And a terrible nickname. He gets to have the title.

And since Will is apparently letting Saul set the tone, April is focusing on the lawyer. That she's half naked doesn't seem to bother her as she crosses her arms over her chest and frowns at him. She's spent years avoiding all this, and all it took as one marriage to bring the hero game to her door.

God.]

But are you guys the rival rogue guys or the superfreaks for good?

[Saul takes the tissues and dabs at his mouth, frowning when he sees red. No wonder his mouth tasted like pennies.

He watches Will go rummaging for clothes, then turns his attention back to April. Normally, he'd be all over the chance to ogle a pretty, pantsless lady, but Will is right there, and Saul still feels kind of awful. Now is definitely not the time.

He considers her words carefully, glancing back at Will before he answers. How the hell is he supposed to answer that?]

I just want to stop him before he hurts anyone else. That's all. I dunno what that makes me, and I don't — [Oops. Please hold; he has to cough again.]

Sorry.

Rivalry implies one part is better than the other and a sense of competition. He's not my better, and I have no desire to provide him competition.

[Comes out of Will's mouth easily as he moves to hand Saul the spoils of his war with "clothes not in Will Graham's size." If Saul wants to consider Walter White his better, that's fine, but Will's better (in this context) has only ever been one person. Lost to the sea he may be, Will can't ignore that.]

If we were doing this for good, doing so alone and outside the law...almost contradicts that. The answer to your question, April, is neither. We're the "doing what we can" guys.

[Will's in the Suicide Squad, after all.]

[Well beyond caring about looks- which, really, wasn't there to start with- April flops to lay on her back on the bed, legs still hanging over the edge so her feet touch the floor. She'd known Will was always...Will with this kinda stuff, but the lack of Villain's monologue from Saul was appreciated.

Though it probably meant Horrible Vengeance Upon Their House was a high chance. No matter the world, supervillains all fell into the same patterns. Just with slightly different themes.

Whatever.]

Is Saul living here now?

[Saul takes the clothes and doesn't bother giving them a better look. Something about gift horses and mouths, etc. He's about to offer his thanks when April asks that, and he does a double take — maybe a little bit in part due to the way she's just lying there.]

Wh — no, no. That won't — that's not necessary. I'll be fine.

[Hey now, this is April's turf. She can be wherever she wants however she wants. Will doesn't even seem to notice the change. He just pulls a face as if he has to seriously think over this question, as if he'd intended to put Saul in the attic forever. Even Saul's stop-start refusal doesn't drag him out of it.]

Tonight should be enough for him to get back up and running. [Hopefully not literal running, of course, in the way he's running from his unfortunate associates.] Likely safer for all of us if he didn't stay much longer.

[No offense, buddy. But it seems a terrible idea to bundle up, not that he'd seriously considered it in the first place, when it's all but waving a flag of "hey Walter two of the dudes you have issues with are right here." Not a good idea, he doesn't want to see his family have to kick into action.]

Yeah. Safe. If you don't want this guy stabbed, you need to talk to Grey and Edgar.

[They could smell blood, she swore. Like dogs. They would just know and then there would be blood on the carpet despite everything she has ever told them.

Oh, yeah. And the kids will have killed someone which is something she had been (secretly) working kinda hard to avoid. They should get to do what they want, not to be the protectors of the dumbass adults.]

[Saul nods almost imperceptibly at Will. No offense taken, friend — he doesn't want to put Will in any more danger than he already has. A little pang of guilt shoots through his chest at the thought (or maybe that's just one of his busted ribs mending itself) and he bends to cough.

Mid-cough, he laughs.

Stabbed. That's funny.

But really, though:] Grey and Edgar?

[A wavelength April and Will share wholeheartedly. At Saul's question, his voice takes on a gravelly, grave tone.]

Two young men who live with us. They come from a particularly brutal world. But, Jesus Christ, I'm not gonna put the kids on guard dog duty. [That's his job. Not because Grey and Edgar are unable, not at all. Will is older, Will regularly dives in bloody games with sick crazy fucks pretending to be gods and devils and monsters, it's his role to play. Which may have some dark (so dark, no light anywhere) humor for April, considering she knows Will's track record with getting stabbed.] If anybody asks, we're putting up a friend for the night. That's all they need to know.

[Protect this house of sometimes murderous children.]

[ The best parental past time: lying through omission to the children. ]

Mm. You'll have to say it. They know I don't have friends.

[ Only the collection of people she chooses to live with/adopt/mock. It's complicated. She looks over at Saul, though. ]

We're trying to see how many people and animals can fit in a house before an intervention gets scheduled.

[Oh. They're humans, then. Saul was expecting Will to say they're two dogs, but... okay. Sure. Maybe this house will eventually qualify as a home for wayward whatevers, and maybe Saul can help with the paperwork to file for non-profit status. Because that's what Will and April want out of their lives here, right?

Saul catches his mind wandering and snaps back to reality, looking from Will to April, then back to Will. He clears his throat again.]

One night is all I need. If anyone asks, you can tell them I was drunk off my ass and needed a place to crash. As for my safety — [Cue a dismissive hand wave.] I'll be okay. If Walt's gonna come after me, it won't happen immediately. He needs time to plan.

[He says, rolling his eyes.]

There won't be an intervention. And if there is, I'm not attending.

[Said directly to April, and the look of amusement that took over his face finally started to reflect a man seeing his wife in sexy sexy plaid. Who cared if Saul was right there? April was hot, he might not remember any of this in the morning if the pain he was in was truly that great. Or if he found the leftover booze in the attic since Dorian's stay, either way!]

Nobody here'd doubt me having a friend who'd get drunk off his ass. [He turned back to Saul, that smile less, uh, wife-stare-esque as he gently clapped him on the shoulder.] You ready? Get you situated and you feel free to use any of the doors whenever you wanna head out tomorrow.

[Haha. Ignoring that Walter bit, though; Will doesn't roll his eyes but Lord has Saul tempted him to do just that. So dismissing it for the moment wins.]

I'm ready.

[God, is he ever ready. He suddenly feels like he's about to fall over asleep right where he's standing, but something tells him neither Will nor April would appreciate that. So he just nods and starts heading wherever Will wants him to go, and it won't be long before he's out like a busted light.]

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i hope you're satisfied but if you ain't don't blame me

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