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    Summary

    "M'fine." He pushed out, he's not far from the hospital that Lars goes to. Where Dr. Dagmar is. The only hospital that Lars trusted. Should he go to that hospital? Do dogs that take care of themselves still get loved and cared for? "W's stabbed."

    "Excuse me?!" Ooft, he sounded mad. Should Casey not have told him? But then he'd just track blood all over the sheets and furniture like a mucky, dirty stray. And nobody liked a mucky dog. "Did you just say you were stabbed?!"

    "Uh-huh," Driver nodded his head, feeling a little woozy even though he knew he hadn't lost nearly enough blood for that. He'd never had anyone care for him like Lars did. Or get angry for him. "M'sorry, Lars." The blood is warm on his palm and he can feel the tackiness of drying blood trying to stick Lars' undershirt and sweater to his skin. He hiccuped, falling into a lull of haze at the sound of Lars' voice and concern. He felt warm all over, the safety of his car, the lingering Lars scent that's been rubbed all over his clothes before he left and the aching of his mark scars all serving to pull him deeper into his haze. "M'really, really sorry."

    or i wanted to write a sexy fic but i had a breakdown, bon apetit

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