Storms and craters

Chapter 12

Pete shrugs and nods silently. Vegas is grateful at least for the fact that he does not throw some kind of joke after him.

After a couple of minutes in the restroom, Vegas splashes cold water on his face for a long time, eventually wetting the edge of his forehead hair. He leans his hands on the counter and squints intently at his reflection.

But he can't be... or can?

A wild thought, tearing apart the temples that have begun to burn again, simultaneously converges and does not converge with what he learned about Pete from Tankhun. The worst thing is that Vegas can't afford to make possible conclusions right now, because they have to think "about the case"... damn it. There's too much at stake. The only problem is that before there was only one cup on the scales of his conscience. And now there are two of them... and Vegas is not sure that the second, at some point, will not outweigh the first.

Anyway, Vegas splashes water on hot temples again and closes his eyes, somewhere deep inside realizing how much he would give to know for sure. If only a glimmer of illusory hope could save him forever from his past nightmares that almost every night come to him on shaggy paws, pushing him into the abyss, from which a voice has been pulling him lately, gently singing to him a melody from the brightest childhood memories. And then he cannot be afraid to fall. And any storm seems temporary.

Therefore, everything should be in order. Whatever happens, I'll get you out of any scrape. And who you really are, little wolf cub... we'll figure it out later.

After turning off the water, Vegas brings his breathing back to normal, relaxes his facial muscles and goes back to his office. Still on the way, he hears screams and the sounds of a fight and falling furniture

Damn!

"Hey, hey, what are you doing here?!" bursting inside, Vegas stares at Pete and Tawan grappling, hurrying to separate them. "Well, stop it! Now!"

Pete waves his hands, and then covers his mouth: before Vegas pulls Tawan away from him, the latter manages to punch him in the face.

"What the fuck are you doing, huh?!" Vegas, who never breaks down at work to obscene language, realizes with horror that in the time remaining before the "date" they will not have time to bring Pete's face into a "decent" appearance.

Tawan is all over, from head to toe, bursting with hatred. Vegas is still holding him when hearing it addressed to Pete:

"We're not done with you yet!"

Twitching, he frees himself and runs out of the office.

No longer trying to assess the situation, Vegas picks up an overturned chair, puts Pete on it, and again finds himself opposite:

"Let me see... don't you twitch."

Pete slowly takes his hand away from his face, and Vegas gasps: his lower lip is swollen so that it is about to overlap the upper one. His chin is also hurt, and Pete winces when he tries to move his right shoulder.

"Did you dislocate it?"

"How do I know…"

Pete whines, and really reminds Vegas of a beaten little wolf cub. Well, of course: after all, Tawan is a policeman, combat techniques were honed at the Academy. It's worth working on endurance and a sober mind. However, Vegas will also deal with this later. Problems will have to be solved according to their degree of importance. Vegas takes out a first aid kit and helps to stop Pete's lips bleeding.

"So. I'll try to help with the shoulder too… But I don't know what to do with your face..."

Pete grunts and groans. Vegas shakes his head: