Chapter Text
"Why the fuck are we here?" Carl was seconds from commiting murder.
"Because its good for James. It helps build muscle mass, without straining the joints. It is also hot as hell for once!" Rose grinned, hands at her waist. The woman was way to chipper for the time of day.
"Ok. Let me rephrase that: Why the bloody fuck are WE here? By which i mean WHY THE FUCK am I here?" Carls glower should have frozen the swimming pool in front of them. "Not to say, at the bloody fucking crack of dawn!"
Rose rolled her eyes. "Its 8am, you bleedin' drama queen. Dawn was at 4:30am. Its summer."
"Yeah. Its 8am on a fucking sunday. And summer is a foreign concept for this rainy, grey hellhole." Maybe there were some icicles forming at the edge of the pool? Nah.
Rose rolled her eyes again. "Oh stop being a wee little baby and get into the water." She gave him a slap onto the naked shoulder and then stepped up to the edge of the pool.
Akram was already swimming, watching Hardy attentively, while the man finished his first lap. The coordination between his right arm and legs, and his better left arm was still lacking. But it was getting smoother and smoother, the longer he went at it.
"Get your skinny english arse in here, you twat! If i have to do fucking laps, you will bleedin' well do too!" Hardy bellowed from the water to Carl.
Akram turned to the only man still on dry land, when Rose started swimming beside Hardy. She was encouraging the man with the planned Lunch of burgers, chips and beer.
The syrian mustered Carl at the edge of the pool. The board shorts Rose had bought for him, to make sure he had no excuse to stay out of the water, were a deep blue, with brighter palm leafs on it. He knew he must look like a malnourished horror-version of frosty the snowman: skin a stark white, the still pink scars of the buckshot to his left shoulder standing out harshly. As did his ribs and shoulder bones. Something Carl felt only uncomfortable now, he stood partially exposed. Maybe less coffee and more healthy food, as everybody around him seemed to love to lecture him, would not hurt. Or more food in general.
"Is there a problem with getting into the water?" Akram calmly asked, not bothered by the dark gaze Carl fixated him with.
"You mean besides that it is fucking cold, way too bloody early and i could still be fucking asleep?" Carl gave Akram a degratory look, who ignored it, as usual.
Snorts from the other two, already going for lap 3: "Good try, ye twat! But ye never sleep anyway!" Hardy nixed that argumentation.
Even Akrams mouth twinched into a small smile at that. Carl crossed his arms over his chest, mulish expression like a petulant 4 year old. He pressed out between his teeth:
"No, i dont have a fucking problem with water, besides all those very fucking validate points."
"Good. Them come in. It will help the pain and cramps in your hurt shoulder." Akram held out an inviting hand. Carl just growled, ignored the offered hand and stepped into the water. Cursing for the whole process in every language he spoke. The other three laughed at him for the whole production, Hardy the loudest.
Carl started swimming, pulling a face at the tense bundle of muscles his left shoulder was. Rose and Hardy cheered, when he pulled even with them, Akram on his other side.
-
Hours later, somehow relaxed in a way he had not been for years, he had to give it to Rose; it had not been a bad idea. His shoulder grumbeled, but was more loose and easier to move, then it had been in a while. The heavy food sat warm in his stomach and the happy voices of his team around the table, had something calm settle in his chest. He gave a relaxed, happy huff and then opened his mouth to tell Hardy, how wrong he was with his opinion of the scottish football team.