It's turns into a low grade hum fast. Pain is only pain. If there's no more coming he can get his hands on it.
Shove it to the side, like the low blunt force trauma it is. Force focus to stays center and test his jaw through closed lips. It was a good punch. Not one to take his teeth, so much as rattle them, and there's no dislocation in his jaw going on, even if it's going to be tender the rest of the day. It's the kind of pain that's manageable. It's a pain he'd choose over the last few days. One he can point the beginning and end and control over. It's sharper, sweeter, than anything else mucking up his insides.
One making him look toward those fleeing shoulders with a oddly different squint to his obvious annoyance. He might be able to take a fucking ton. It didn't mean he enjoyed being clocked out of nowhere. It does mean there's things refitting in his head, not so much because of the punch, as because that means that punch and whatever was in the man's head somewhere buried under his taking crap, didn't always. Something worth adding to the uncertain pile.
It's probably the first truly unexpected thing Danny's done since he set eyes on the man over a gun in his garage.
It's nice to know somewhere under that yapping demeanor is a limit people can't cross. Maybe.
Even if it's sore, it's still his jaw and not his pride. Pride has no place between him and the mission, unless he's looking for things to slow him down. If he looks at it the way he would with anyone in his platoon just the fact it happened might depress the air, and make work easier for the explosion. Which Danny isn't a SEAL, not by any stretch, not even for a really good right hook. But it leaves Steve wondering when he starts walking that way.
Because he has no reason not to be here any longer. Doran's dead. Chen Chi's in good hands, and her picture might get him a lead. And Danny Williams, with that arm, and that posture like he was just beginning for even more of a fight, even after that, was still his ride. Unless he wanted to choose a more above the board route. Which, casting a glance at the officers who hadn't gotten involved, he really didn't. So that meant heading toward the angry blonde man stalking directly to his car.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2014-01-20 12:33 am (UTC)Shove it to the side, like the low blunt force trauma it is. Force focus to stays center and test his jaw through closed lips. It was a good punch. Not one to take his teeth, so much as rattle them, and there's no dislocation in his jaw going on, even if it's going to be tender the rest of the day. It's the kind of pain that's manageable. It's a pain he'd choose over the last few days. One he can point the beginning and end and control over. It's sharper, sweeter, than anything else mucking up his insides.
One making him look toward those fleeing shoulders with a oddly different squint to his obvious annoyance. He might be able to take a fucking ton. It didn't mean he enjoyed being clocked out of nowhere. It does mean there's things refitting in his head, not so much because of the punch, as because that means that punch and whatever was in the man's head somewhere buried under his taking crap, didn't always. Something worth adding to the uncertain pile.
It's probably the first truly unexpected thing Danny's done since he set eyes on the man over a gun in his garage.
It's nice to know somewhere under that yapping demeanor is a limit people can't cross. Maybe.
Even if it's sore, it's still his jaw and not his pride. Pride has no place between him and the mission, unless he's looking for things to slow him down. If he looks at it the way he would with anyone in his platoon just the fact it happened might depress the air, and make work easier for the explosion. Which Danny isn't a SEAL, not by any stretch, not even for a really good right hook. But it leaves Steve wondering when he starts walking that way.
Because he has no reason not to be here any longer. Doran's dead. Chen Chi's in good hands, and her picture might get him a lead. And Danny Williams, with that arm, and that posture like he was just beginning for even more of a fight, even after that, was still his ride. Unless he wanted to choose a more above the board route. Which, casting a glance at the officers who hadn't gotten involved, he really didn't. So that meant heading toward the angry blonde man stalking directly to his car.