Katrina's face as she stepped out of the car that saved Luca's life is one of terror and guilt. Why was she guilty, did she not see the fucking gun in his hand? She looks at the man's body as Luca gets up to his feet. The last man starts to squirm, his body too sore for actual movement. Luca didn't know much when it came to Spanish, but he could guess what the man was mumbling.

Luca walks a few feet up to Katrina, who hears the steps he's taking and swings around on her left foot. An audible gasp escapes her mouth as she recognizes Luca's face.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the Hospital?"

"Probably should be."

Catherine and Jackson come out from behind the van that the cartel members came from, the wounded man in handcuffs yelling in Spanish. The one who got hit by Katrina's car is just beginning to make it to one knee. Luca picks up the AK 47 that was thrown out of his hands on impact and aims it at the man who moments earlier would've killed him.

I'm the luckiest fucker alive.

"C'mon buddy, hands on your head!"

Reluctantly and ashamedly, the man does as he's instructed. Sweat begins to form around the neck of Luca. LA heat, smog, fire, and nervousness isn't a very good combination. He starts walking over to the basically restrained man. What was he doing, he doesn't have any handcuffs!

Won't need any if he's unconscious.

A quick stop to check if the safety's on. It is, was the guy going to kill him? No matter, it just quickens the process. The man, hands still on his head, looks up at Luca as he gets closer.

Basically Restrained Former Threat: "Hey gringo! What's your name, just so I know who to hunt down later."

Luca just smiles at him at he holds the rifle at the barrel as if it was a baseball bat. Now this was something he was used to.

"Hernan fucking Cortes, bitch!"

CRACK! I guess you could call that a home run. The man's head hit the ground and bounces like a rubber ball.

"Welcome to America, land of covered up government approved brutality. Basically, Mexico with a better PR campaign."

A downward thrust forcing the butt of the rifle to smash the man's cheek cuts the metaphorical lights. Luca laughs as he drops the gun on the ground. Falling flat on his face, it soon becomes apparent that mister guy who got an AK smashed against his skull isn't the only one who won't be responsive for a while.







Luca's eyes open to be filled immediately with smoke. Not a necessarily uncommon thing to happen, so he shows no signs of surprise and looks around his surroundings.

Odd, last he remembered, he was on a LA street and now he's home. He's home and there's smoke...

HOLY FUCKING FIRE!

He tries to get off the couch, but he can't. It's as if the blankets he's wrapped in won't allow him to move. He looks over his left and he sees Katrina sitting in a chair, lit joint in hand. Her eyes looking off into space. He can somewhat make out what she's singing under her breath.

"So testosterone boys and harlequin girls, will you dance to this beat and hold a lover close?"

Over and over, as if those were the only lyrics she knew.

He raises his head, holding himself up on his forearms, and turns his head all the way to look at her.

"Glad to see you making yourself at home!"

With that, Katrina almost falls back out of the chair.

"Ohmygod, I didn't think you were gonna wake up any time soon and I haven't smoked in months and, and-"

Luca can't help but laugh slightly as she rambles on. He looks at her and hears what she's saying, but isn't listening for a few moments before cutting her off.

"Relax! I'm not mad, jeez..."

"Well you kinda come back from the dead just to say that, I kinda got a little worried, and when I'm worried I talk a lot and way too fast, and-it's-really-freaky-that-you-wake-up-at-such-"

"You're talking too fast. Deep breaths."

"Very funny. Well, nice to meet you in a more casual way, Luca."

"So nurse, do you smoke your patient's weed often?"

"Oh shut it."

"Where's the doctor? Snorting the coca I hide in the medicine cabinet?"

A look of mock anger crosses Katrina's face.

"So that's where it was!"

"Sorry to switch topics around randomly, but how did I get here? Also, why are you here? No offense, it's just weird."

"You passed out because your friends didn't think to cover the fucking bleeding hole you had from the IV. They brought you back here, and I stayed to look after you."

"Why does my head hurt?"

"You smacked your head on the concrete. If you don't have a concussion, I'll pass my next random drug test."

"Oh, that makes perfect sen-"

And just like that, Luca's out again. Who knows when he'll wake up next? His arms no longer hold him up as his head falls back on the pillow. Katrina sighs and goes back to smoking the joint, annoyed by the inconvenience of his body's timing.