Spinelli rolls up the bottom of his dark blue hoodie to reveal a stark white bandage on his side. “Kiefer and Young Michael might have been struggling over the knife when I attempted to intervene.” He reports. “It’s not that bad, really, it just required a couple of stitches at the behest of the medically inclined ones.”
“Which one of them was it, Spinelli?”
Silence is all the answer Jason needs. His anger channels itself toward the other occupant of his living room as a result. The one who doesn’t belong there.
Michael, looking all kinds of insulted and betrayed – both by his Uncle’s lack of faith in his story and by Spinelli’s tattling – scoffs again, folds his arms over his chest. “It was Kiefer!”
“I don’t believe you.” Jason responds cooly, still standing beside Spinelli.
“But, Jason, it was just…”
The elder shakes his head. “You could have killed someone, Michael. Spinelli or Kiefer. You would have been in jail and I wouldn’t be protecting you this time.” Especially if it had been Spinelli, but he doesn’t say that.
The teen glares in rebellion at the speech. “He’s fine! Kiefer’s fine, unfortunately, too! What’s the big deal?”
“Just leave, Michael. I’ll call Carly about this in the morning. Maybe the police, too.” He threatens, and ushers Spinelli upstairs before any more protests can come his way. He hears the door slam when Michael leaves as he helps Spinelli struggle out of his muddy, bloody and soaked hoodie.
Spinelli falters as he heads for the bathroom to clean up. “Was it wise to threaten police involvement?” He asks. “The Jackal assumed that you would want to avoid such things.” It was why he had involved himself in the first place. After all the drama with Claudia’s murder and Franco’s evidence, it seemed like the last thing they’d need.
“I’m not taking any chances,” Jason assures him, eyes drawn to the stark white bandage. “That’s not happening ever again.”
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timeasmymeasure
Jason/Spinelli - Jason choses Spin over Michael - Pt2
Date: 2010-01-18 01:57 am (UTC)“Which one of them was it, Spinelli?”
Silence is all the answer Jason needs. His anger channels itself toward the other occupant of his living room as a result. The one who doesn’t belong there.
Michael, looking all kinds of insulted and betrayed – both by his Uncle’s lack of faith in his story and by Spinelli’s tattling – scoffs again, folds his arms over his chest. “It was Kiefer!”
“I don’t believe you.” Jason responds cooly, still standing beside Spinelli.
“But, Jason, it was just…”
The elder shakes his head. “You could have killed someone, Michael. Spinelli or Kiefer. You would have been in jail and I wouldn’t be protecting you this time.” Especially if it had been Spinelli, but he doesn’t say that.
The teen glares in rebellion at the speech. “He’s fine! Kiefer’s fine, unfortunately, too! What’s the big deal?”
“Just leave, Michael. I’ll call Carly about this in the morning. Maybe the police, too.” He threatens, and ushers Spinelli upstairs before any more protests can come his way. He hears the door slam when Michael leaves as he helps Spinelli struggle out of his muddy, bloody and soaked hoodie.
Spinelli falters as he heads for the bathroom to clean up. “Was it wise to threaten police involvement?” He asks. “The Jackal assumed that you would want to avoid such things.” It was why he had involved himself in the first place. After all the drama with Claudia’s murder and Franco’s evidence, it seemed like the last thing they’d need.
“I’m not taking any chances,” Jason assures him, eyes drawn to the stark white bandage. “That’s not happening ever again.”