"You don't owe me nothin', man. Not for this." Bobby wouldn't hear of it. He put a hand on Michael's hip to try and stabilise him, looking at his face that was still swelling, the bruise getting more pronounced. "You shouldn't be drivin' like that. Come over to my truck, I'll take you to my place."

It was closer, after all. Made sense. He led the way to his truck, looking at Michael with obvious concern. "We can ice it right away. Keeps the swelling down."