amicustenebris | PSL - for Saul Goodman, set Post-BCS, Pre-BB

In all fairness to Saul Goodman, it would not have been uncharitable when he found himself stopped in the middle of the road, staring down what appeared to be the body that just ricocheted off his windshield, and first thinking, even kind of hoping he was being scammed. It wouldn't be the first time, and New Mexico was hardly suffering a shortage of people stupid enough to try it, clearly. The highbeams caught the slow patter of the first rain in what felt like months, picking each little droplet out of the dark as though they did not exist at all until the light touched them. Then the twitch of a set of fingers, shivering in the direction of a cane that had clattered to the ground just out of reach. A glint of the ring on one of his fingers, not a diamond but some manner of precious stone that seemed to glow with inner luminosity.

It was fully nighttime even without the cloud cover, and the stranger really did seem to come out of nowhere. He might as well have not been there at all the instant before he was hit.

From the looks of him once he was near enough to take it in, not the sort that would usually try a scam. Well-to-do, in his forties at the youngest. The curtain of his shoulder-length hair stuck in wet strings to the side of his face. Nice (though now scuffed) shoes. The suit was fine and black, maybe a little warm for this far south and this time of year. The cane was similarly fancy, with a silver handle. Eyes that were awake and expressive but wide and gave too much the impression of an injured animal.

The kinda view that left a guy wishing it was just a punk kid trying to make an easy buck.

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The doctor maybe recognized him from ads, but whatever assumptions that came with, she appeared to take his account at face value. "That's kind of you. Like I said, he's doing all right. Confused. A bit surly. But he's not expecting anyone. No emergency contact or anything like that."

"Oh. In that case I'll wait for him. I'm not incredibly busy. Is there a time I can go back and see him or should I just wait until he's discharged?" Saul asked. He didn't want to get in the doctor's way or startle the man further but he wasn't going to leave the man to deal with this alone. He would at least arrange to pay his bill or give some money to him for it.

She smiled. Clearly, if the man was as ornery as she implied, it didn't affect her very much. She's probably seen her share of prickly people. "Visiting hours don't stop for a few more yet. He'll be resting, but would probably benefit from knowing he's being looked in on if that's what you'd like to do."

A nurse showed him to the room once he was ready.

Gold was quite awake and not happy about it. His room was private for the time being, but he might wind up with a roommate eventually, if the world was feeling especially unlucky.

The TV wasn't on. A flip phone sat on the table next to his bed. His cane lay across the surface next to it.

If one were to guess that a majority of his sourness came from having to wear a hospital gown, it wouldn't have been wholly correct but no one would blame them either. Not that he looked especially imposing after bouncing off someone's windshield, but if suits were a kind of armor he felt naked without it.

He glowered when someone entered, not immediately familiar, but flickers of memory. At the very least whatever venom he had been saving to unleash on some busybody rn fizzled out and died.

Saul gave the woman a smile and watched her leave. He was debating on whether or not he was going to bother this man or not. He gave it a few moments before deciding he should check up on him.
“Hey there, uh, you may not know me but I’m the one that hit you. I promise it was an accident! I’ll uh pay your bill and what not. I just wanted to make sure you were alright and there were no hard feelings.” Saul rambled as he poked his head into the room where Gold was. Sure he was nervous but put his best foot forward anyway

"Stop."

Gold sat back and shut his eyes to cover that he was rolling them. Of course part of his brain said 'this is something he believes he owes you, use it' but sadly he had enough of his faculties working to know half-truths for immediate gain would lead to trouble later. The man was under mo obligation to know not to hit something that had not been or near the road an instant before it was.

"That won't be necessary. Get me proof of whatever you end up paying to fix your vehicle and I will reimburse you. All of this --" he gestured at the general space around him. "-- will take care of itself, Mister--?"

Saul’s mouth immediately clamped closed when he heard “stop.” That was a pretty clear sign that he said too much. He didn’t expect the man to tell him not to worry about this AND offer to pay for his windshield.
“Uh, Goodman. Saul Goodman. You,uh, don’t have to pay for it really. I’m pretty sure my guy owes me a free one by now.” He says with a slight chuckle
He left out the joke on just how many he managed to hit and windshields he needed replaced

"Most call me Gold. I'm sure you're usually very charming." It was not said with as much bite as one would expect. "But I have possible brain damage and I'm using that to keep the conversation short." Because for the moment his head hurt and while he didn't feel like arguing, he would feel compelled to. "As I said, I will take care of it. All that I need from you will be an invoice and that no one else be involved in this from your end."

"Oh! Yeah! Here's my card." Saul said, sticking a hand in his suit pocket and pulling out a canary yellow card with crimson letters and his face. His name and number and office address was at the bottom too. He wandered to the bedside and handed this to Gold before stepping back quickly to give him space.
He remained awkwardly standing in the corner for a while, not sure what to do with himself. He felt he should do more to help him but he wasn't wanting to make too many advances too quickly and seem creepy or pushy.

"Thank you." Gold examined the card, committing it to memory before setting it down by his phone. "I am sure you are very busy, but for the sake of trading necessary information you'll receive an update and contact information when I am discharged and I have something to give you. I am...unfortunately not immediately prepared to network." Given that he had no ID on him at the time. He's going to have to make some.

"Oh, alright. I can stay and help if you need me to. I work with people all the time that don't carry IDs or insurance and am pretty good at getting them what they need." He says. It's true. He made fake IDs all the time in high school for people to make the extra money.
Why was Saul offering to help? He felt really bad for hitting him and wanted to make things as right as possible before walking away.

"I assure you I'll have all that sorted in a day or so." By what means, he was not at liberty to say. "I am just...not from around here" if that very pronounced Glaswegian accent was any indication "and somewhat unprepared." His own fault, really.

PSL - for Saul Goodman, set Post-BCS, Pre-BB

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