Dirk Gently and The Waking Sea of Reality

I'm Sorry

       Back at the agency, they decided to all go home and rest for the night. They had enough bullshit for one day. The no-doubt shocking and all too inevitable revelations about the crystal could wait until tomorrow.

Bean yapped as Dirk and Todd opened the door to their apartment.

Dirk half smiled as he bent down to pet her with his glowing-crystal-free-hand. She whined seeing the state of him.

"It's ok. Daddy's fine," he scratched under her chin.

Todd walked to the bathroom to get tweezers, cotton balls, hydrogen peroxide, and a box of band-aids.

"Did you feed her before we left?" Dirk called to the bathroom.

"She's lying," Todd called back, laughing slightly.

Dirk sat the crystal down on the bedside table, it stopped glowing when he stopped touching it. He hated that crystal.

He sat down on the couch and took off his suit coat, bloody and torn to shreds from the exploding glass behind him. The memory of the bang, him ducking and the shattering replayed in his mind as he shed his vest and tie.

As he emerged from the bathroom it hit Todd fully what had just happened.

His head spun seeing Dirk sitting on the couch, covered in blood -strangers from the gala's and his own- his face, neck, and hands covered in tiny cuts.

"Oh, baby..." he muttered.

And Dirk had a very similar thought running through his head. Todd wasn't in as nearly as bad a state as him, a few cuts here and there, his black suit less stained than his orange and white one. The gun was aimed at Dirk, so he received most of the damage. Todd was merely collateral damage.

"I'm sorry, Todd."

Dirk slumped back into the couch. He quickly shot back up with a wince of pain as a few sharp stinging sensations arose in his back.

Todd set his supplies down on the coffee table and sat down next to Dirk. Bean jumped up onto the couch and rested her head on Dirk's knee.

"Don't be sorry," he said softly as he unbuttoned Dirk's practically red tie-dyed shirt.

"But you're hurt," he frowned and looked down at Todd's scratched but already scabbed over hands and then to his face which had one -very shallow but very long- gash on his right cheekbone, a few smaller cuts on his forehead, and a slice on the left side of his jaw.

"Dude, you're in so much of a worse state than me," Todd chuckled. He motioned for Dirk to turn around.

His face turned a ghostly white when he saw the state of his back.

And though Dirk couldn't see Todd's reaction he heard the hitch in his breath, like choking back tears.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked, the only discomfort in his voice was from the discomfort of hearing Todd upset. He wasn't aware of his state at all.

"Oh, Dirk," he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss into his shoulder. "Oh, sweetie."

Small but still visible pieces of glass embedded themselves into the exposed skin of the back of his neck. Fresh blood that wasn't being soaked up by his clothes dripped down. Little lines and crosshatches strewed over his back from the tiny pieces that slipped down and tore holes in between the layers of clothing. The sheer force of the explosion from the military-grade bullet had done a number on the glass. Shards became dangerous projectiles