It had been a day and a half since Joel Henderson had been jumped in an alley and left in a heap near a dumpster.
If his face looked shocking shortly after the incident, a day and a half later it looked downright haunting.
His right eye was stained with dark purple, and featured spots of yellow, like a watercolour painting someone had irreparably screwed up. The bruises trailed up his brow and found a home along the side of his forehead. Upon having hit the pavement, his cheekbone had been cut, leaving Joel to patch it up with a band-aid. Scrapes on the other side of his face were still healing, along with his lip which sported a generous split. His abdomen was like a canvas someone had splashed with purple, pink, yellow and green acrylic paint and there was no question about whether or not he should take time off.
Gus told him to come back whenever he felt ready.
Joel spent most of the day holed up in his apartment, shooing away anyone who came to visit at the door. There was a pit in his stomach and he didn't feel like he was emotionally prepared to deal with any sort of sympathy or empathy. Not that he got much of it in this line of work, but it was a risk he would have been taking either way.
Nacho showed up at 5PM the next day. The knocking was loud, but his friend's voice was rather soft. As soft as it could be for Nacho, anyways. Gritting his teeth, Joel opened the door and painfully watched as Nacho clenched his jaw and sighed, long and slowly.
"Do I wanna know?" Nacho asked after a minute of silence.
"Do you think I want to tell you?" Joel replied.
"Nah I guess not, huh."
"What do you want?"
"I wanted to check on you, but I guess..." Nacho trailed off.
"I'm fine." Joel brushed off. He wasn't, not really, but that didn't need to concern Nacho. Yet, Nacho didn't budge. Joel's admission didn't lay to rest whatever Varga was feeling.
"Look...I don't really wanna leave you alone." Nacho admitted.
"Why not, I'm fine. Really." Joel frowned.
"I don't want to leave you alone." Nacho repeated, more serious.
"Fine. Are you coming in?"
"Actually, I think you're coming out." Nacho decided, nodding.
"You're asking a lot out of me, pal." Joel sighed, not pleased.
"I need some help down at El Mich. It'll help get your mind off of your face."
-
Though he went willingly, Joel sat in the passenger seat of Nacho's car with the same expression of a child who'd just been pulled away from their favorite playground. There was a thermos of coffee in the cup holder, but it didn't make anything better. Still, the sun felt nice on his face, and it would help fade the bruising a little bit. He was begrudgingly comfortable.
Nacho parked in front of the restaurant and turned off the engine, glancing at his lap, then to Joel, and back out the front window.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked, his voice back to being gentle. Joel, shrugged and sighed, thinking about it.
"No." he decided.
"Okay."
-
Inside the restaurant, Lalo was sitting and counting a stack of bills some dealer had dropped off shortly after Nacho had left. He grinned when he realized they'd returned, dramatically wrapping a rubber band around the money and dropping it into a bag at his feet.
"The brave soldier returns from war," he exclaimed, standing. His smile widened when he saw Joel, chuckling and taking in the state of his face.
"And look who he brought with him! El pequeño. ¿Hola hombrecito, como está? Wait, wait, wait. Don't tell me. Any story behind a face like that is too good for me to know right now. Tell me on the drive." Lalo said, grabbing the bag he'd dropped the roll of money in and setting it on top of a table.
"Drive?" Nacho asked, frowning.
"Yes. Drive. Un viaje. Goodness, Ignacio, we talked about this."
"Yeah. I told you I couldn't take you because I had business to attend to here. We can't fall behind again."
"Oh yeah! I remember now." Lalo said, clearly not bothered by the news. "Oh well, guess you'll have to fall behind again. You'll figure it out."
"No- I'm serious. I can't play taxi driver for you. Not today." Nacho said, frustration visible on his face, stepping closer to Lalo.
Lalo stared at him deadpanned for a split second before perking back up once again.
"Alright, well then Jo-Jo can take me."
Nacho looked back at Joel who looked less than enthusiastic at the proposition.
"It's his day off." Nacho tried to argue.
"Nachito, you're such a drag, it'll be fine." Lalo argued, brushing him aside and stepping towards Joel.
"It's my day off." Joel repeated, his expression not changing.
"Yeah. From Fring. Not me. So are we going or what?" Lalo said.
Joel glanced to Nacho, rubbing the non-bruised side of his face tiredly.
"Fine," Joel conceded. "Nacho, can I have your keys?"
-
It was the longest four hour drive Joel had ever taken, and he actively drove in a car with Victor and Tyrus.
Lalo insisted on playing the most brassy mariachi music in existence, and then refused to turn it down when Joel told him it was difficult to concentrate on the road.
"If we're gonna crash and burn, we might as well do it to a good song, right Jo-Jo?" Lalo laughed and clapped the young man on the back.
When they got out to the desert, though, Lalo turned the music off. You never knew who was lurking out there.
Still, he continued humming for over and hour, and when he got bored of that, he turned to Joel with an inquisitive look on his face.
Typically, inquisitive looks were interesting, and brought good questions and conversation but on Lalo it just meant trouble.
"What." Joel asked flatly when Lalo didn't stop staring.
"I'm just curious about your face." Lalo said like that was all he was doing.
"Well, keep wondering."
"Awe come on. Let a brother in. I'm just trying to make conversation."
"Make conversation about something else." Joel's headache was back and he'd grown way too annoyed to be out in the desert with Lalo Salamanca and stay civil for the entire time.
"But I wanna make conversation about your face."
"Literally what is wrong with you?"
"Me? Hombrecito, nothing's wrong with me. I'm great. It's you I have questions for." Lalo pressed.
Joel gritted his teeth and sped up. The faster they got to that stupid well at the border, the faster he could go back home.
Lalo nudged the young man.
"Come on. Tell me."
"No."
Lalo was leaned forward, his body shifted towards Joel and he snickered, playfully hitting Joel's arm.
"Dude seriously, just let me know. I mean, you? Looking like that? Little man, you gotta learn to punch back sometimes. Kid Stupid over here."
The car slammed to a halt, and Lalo lurched back, and felt his head whip against the headrest of the car seat.
Joel's foot did not leave the brake until the car pulled back, coming to a complete and total stop.
"Get the fuck out of the car." he snapped bitterly. Lalo was quick to react, grabbing Joel by his shirt collar and yanking him closer.
"Now listen here, cabrón-" he said, dangerously soft, his eyes on fire. Joel wasn't having any of it. He pushed Lalo's arm off.
"Don't fucking touch me."
"Drive." Lalo ordered.
Joel glared at him, going to start the car again. Dread pooled in his stomach when the engine stalled.
"Are you fucking kidding me." he whispered under his breath. Lalo simply snorted, pleased with the situation and the seemingly deserved karma Joel had brought upon himself. He got out of the car before Joel had any say in it.
Joel decided that it was useless to stay in a car that didn't work, and got out soon after Lalo did. They were in the middle of nowhere, somewhere going up a hill, overlooking miles of empty desert with boring, identical shrubbery that didn't do much to entertain the eye, and the sun was steadily approaching the horizon line. Sunset colours had already begun to stretch across the sky.
Lalo opened the trunk and sighed, shaking his head and muttering.
"You blew the battery you dumbass." he told Joel. The boy's head whipped around, his face incredulous.
"I'm the dumbass? You're the one who doesn't even have his own goddamn car and needs to be driven around like an entitled teenager."
"Hey, Henderson? If I buried you out here no one would ever find you. Take the advice I'm about to give you and shut the hell up."
Clenching his jaw so hard it might have broken, Joel did as he was told.
He walked a little ways away from the car, somewhere he couldn't see Lalo for two seconds. He needed a break from the bastard.
-
Nacho had closed up shop and had been back inside his house for approximately 30 seconds when his phone buzzed. He frowned when he saw that it was Joel calling.
"Hey, what's up? You good?"
"Hey. Yeah, I'm fine. Look, something came up. Um, the battery on your car blew and we're stuck out here." Joel replied. The signal was muddy, and his voice on the other end of the phone sounded muffled, but it was clear enough for Nacho to make out.
"Are you kidding me."
"Literally no, I'm just as pissed about it as you are. Lalo's trying to fix it, but you might need a whole new battery."
"Okay. Fine. I'll come get you guys. Do you have directions?" Nacho asked, annoyed. The line went quiet for a moment, and Nacho began to think maybe he'd lost connection when Lalo came through, telling Nacho directions in really aggravated Spanish. They were out. Far out. But Lalo needed to be back home before noon the next day, and time was ticking.
"Look-" Nacho told Joel once he was back on the phone. "It's going to be a while. I won't be there until early in the morning. I know it's shitty, but you guys will have to set up camp. There's supplies in the trunk. It's not super glamorous, but it'll make do. Try not to kill each other. I will be there as fast as I can."
-
They set up camp in total silence, neither saying a word to one another.
Joel didn't realize how tired he was until the sun had completely set and it was dark out. He finally realized how bad his headache was when he looked at the moon and it hurt behind his eyes. It was cold, and his fingers felt numb.
Nacho had half a braincell, and had stored some blankets in the back of his car along with the makeshift camping gear. The strange little tent they'd built for themselves, along with the small fire they'd managed to get going outside the shelter provided a slightly cramped but pleasantly cozy hideout while they waited for their guy to come pick them up. Lalo stared into the flames, chewing on jerky strips, and his eyes were no longer angry.
Joel had grown quiet, but he broke the silence to tell Lalo he was going to try and get some sleep. There was nothing to do and it was pointless to sit, wait, and waste away the night.
"I'm going to bed." Joel told Lalo.
"Yeah, yeah, don't let me stop you. I'll wake you if anything happens."
When Nacho didn't arrive by midnight, and the fire had burned itself out, and when Lalo Salamanca finally got bored of looking at the stars, he quietly ducked under the tarp with his own blanket and lay down to sleep next to Joel, back faced away from him. He didn't ignore how faultless Joel appeared when he was fast asleep.
-
An hour and a half had passed and the two men had turned in rest so that they were facing each other. It was better that way anyways, being closer together for warmth. Perhaps Joel thought he was safe at home with Nacho, and not miles out in the desert, but some subconscious slumbering part of him felt safe curling close to the man he'd been fighting with only hours earlier. Lalo, ever the light sleeper, simply felt that it was warmer than before, and had no complaints.
The moon watched them from high in the sky, almost guarding them- the stars acting as her righteous and loyal soldiers, and for a moment it was like nothing could harm the boys in the tent, not even if it was strong enough to move heaven and earth.
As the minutes passed and the moment drifted off into the night, it became cloudy, and the moon became obscured by floating stratus clouds, meandering across its path.
In the tent, Joel stirred. His brow furrowed, like an upset kid, and he whined in his sleep, shifting.
Almost as suddenly as when he had slammed on the car brake, he was sitting upright, screaming and crying. His chest heaved with hyperventilating breaths and his eyes were wide and panicked, searching a million miles an hour for something that wasn't there.
He was so deep in his own fear he hadn't realized he'd completely shoved Lalo upon waking, punching him in the sternum. The Salamanca, ready to throw hands with this slippery bastard of a kid, was on the verge of clapping back when he saw Joel in the corner, sitting aimlessly on his knees. He looked disoriented and confused, and tears streamed down his cheeks. Lalo held himself back, and dropped his shoulders.
"What the fuck was that." Lalo asked, his voice hard. His eyes were sparking again. Joel met them with his own and they were full of frightened, delirious fear.
"I'm sorry." he whimpered. "I didn't mean to."
Lalo's brow furrowed, going from anger to almost curious concern.
"Hey..are you with me?" he asked a little tentatively. Joel didn't respond.
"Jo-Jo. Hey. Look at me." Lalo repeated, snapping his fingers in front of the younger man. Joel flinched, but seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in when he opened his eyes again.
"What?" he mumbled.
"What the fuck was that?" Lalo asked, but this time there was the genuineness in his voice of him honestly asking a question.
"I don't...I had a nightmare. I'm sorry." Joel said, swallowing.
"A nightmare? That's it? You son of a bitch you made me think there was a fucking tarantula that had crawled onto me." Lalo said, a grin appearing on his face. "You're fucking insane. Hey, look, you're fine. Whatever dream you were having- it was just a dream. It's not real."
The assurance was shallow, but Joel felt a weight lift off of his chest. Lalo was right. It wasn't real. He was safe here.
Outside, the sky had cleared and the moon was shining down on them once more.
"Well," Lalo said. "Early bird gets the worm. I'm gonna go see if I can do anything about the car."
-
Despite his honorable efforts, Lalo didn't get too far.
Nearing 5AM, Joel approached him with a cup of coffee.
"Where the hell did you get that?" Lalo asked, closing the front hood of the car and leaning against it.
"I brought a water bottle full of the stuff when Nacho picked me up yesterday. It's cold but...I don't know, it's better than nothing." Joel replied, scooting onto the hood of the car, criss-crossing his legs, holding the thermos in his lap. Lalo sipped at the cap of the bottle and made a face, scrunching his nose.
"That's fucking awful. Malditos locos que no saben hacer un buen cafe. I'm telling you, if you ever come visit, I'm gonna make you the best goddamn cup of Joe you ever tasted."
"I look forward to it."
"I called Nachito, he got lost, dumb bastard that he is, it's gonna take a little while longer."
"How long?"
"Another hour, maybe?"
"Could be worse. Could be two hours."
Silence crept in once more. The two men sat on the broken down car and watched the world turn a deep, deep blue. A blue that drowned the entire landscape, the sort of blue only visible for a fleeting moment before the sun rises and makes everything too warm again. The sort of blue that meant pure peace.
"I got jumped." Joel finally admitted after a couple minutes of quiet.
"What?" Lalo asked, looking over to the kid. Joel let out a long, thoughtful sigh, like he was debating whether or not this was a good idea.
"I got jumped," he repeated. "I was on a date, with this guy. And everything was going good. Everything was fine. We were holding hands on the way back to his car, and we passed this group of street hoods," Joel explained, staring hard at a mark on the car, rubbing at it with his thumb.
"I was on my way back to my apartment and they jumped me. Beat me up, told me how much of a faggot I was, all that bullshit. And...they left me. In an alleyway. By a dumpster. I called Tyrus- another one of Gus' guys- and he came and picked me up. They patched me up, and took me home. And that's what happened to my face." Joel finished, shrugging, shaking his head. He was still upset by the incident, still annoyed and frustrated that it had even happened in the first place, much less to him.
For the first time, Lalo shut up. He wasn't one to come running with hugs, a cookie and a juicebox, but he wasn't so cold to turn a blind eye to such situations.
"That sucks." he replied eventually. Joel couldn't help but laugh.
"Yeah. It does suck."
-
The sky was blood red when Nacho finally arrived.
"Wow you guys didn't kill each other?" was the first thing he said after getting out of the car.
"Nah," Lalo said. "Why? Should we have?"
"It would have cleared up a lotta problems."
"Keep dreaming, Ignacio. I call shotgun." Lalo laughed, and went towards the car.
Nacho pulled Joel into a hug and held him back to look at him.
"Hey. Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I'm okay."