He was a mess, he knew he was a mess but he was out of control lately. He'd been trying to keep things cool, not taking any work, just trying to be normal for once. He'd even gotten a 'normal' job, washing dishes at a diner, just something to be drawing a paycheck. But things had been getting so.... hot. 

The call had come in, a sweet little deal, just some houses, big enough to cool off with but small enough to get done with quick. Who the hell expected to get hit by a car? Getting away from the cops and the paramedics was rough, but he managed but now...

Hand to his ribs, trying to keep his breathing nice and shallow he managed to get back to his apartment, shaking with pain and exhaustion. He managed to slip out of his hoodie with a low groan, letting the jacket fall to the floor as he limped his way to the bathroom.

The face in the mirror was battered, scrape along the right side, brusing starting to darken his skin. He slowly tugged off his tshirt, hiss of pain escaping as he flexed battered and bruised ribs. Might be a fracture there, hopefully not but there wasn't much you could do with your ribs anyway. Roadrash along his side had his skin a bright red, tiny prickles of blood stinging on his skin. Hip and knee were just as battered from where the car had clipped him and the walk home hadn't helped any. He eyed the shower a moment, considering the benefits of hot water before shaking his head. He was too beat up for that, he just wanted to crash and die somewhere.

He fumbled in the medicine cabinet to retrieve a bottle of Advil, pouring out a small handful and swallowing them in quick succession. Then it was off to stumble to the bedroom, easing down onto the bed with another groan. "Fuck."

The cops saw him at a scene. When the hell did he get so sloppy?