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The first hour had been okay. Going in to the second hour, his ankle was starting to ache, despite the support sleeve that he usual wore while doing his, albeit now much lighter, work at the park. Still, he'd come along on this little scavenger hunt, even if only to protect his little park family. For the most part, he found himself actually enjoying the sight-seeing. Not that he would admit anything or show anything other than calm indifference.

A half hour later, his knee joined in with his ankle, also in spite of the brace he also wore there as well. Both supports were hidden under his pants leg, as despite everything Wyatt was still a very prideful creature. This pain wasn't all too unfamiliar, as Wyatt had been regularly pushing himself to a point where he could practically feel the physical therapist and doctors back in Colorado wincing at the abuse he was putting his, still fairly freshly injured, leg through.

Still, he persisted in the hunt.

Then more time dragged on, and despite his best efforts, what had become a light swagger became a slight limp, or favoring of one leg over the other. The more time that went by, and the greater his pain grew, the more...snippy he became, despite his efforts to both hide his pain, and maintain his civility.

Now it was many hours in, and the daylight they had started out with was gone. Practically the only thought in his mind was the agony he was still determined to hide.

"I'm alright," he replied with a shrug.

"That sounds fi-"

Welp, that was it. Everything finally culminated in his hip finally gave a silent pop, which meant fire for the rest of his leg and Wyatt's words were cut of by a sharp intake a breath. It was a sharp hissing sound that accompanied the pained look on his face, and he instantaneously went down on to his good knee. As the initial shock and wave of nauseating agony passed, he awkwardly scooted to sit on the steps of a building they had just been walking by.

"Damnit," he muttered under his breath, as he took a minute to breathe, looking a bit feral as his hair fell into his face which had paled considerably and wore a mix of pain and anger.

Breathe. Breathe. Don't throw up. Breathe.

And of course, of all the people for this to happen around, it was Lukas. He wasn't sure why that really mattered, but for whatever reason, it did. Maybe it was a whole alpha male thing, even though they had come to their little weird agreement that split the role between them. Still, he'd have rather his weakness catch up to him around any one of the others.

"I just need a moment," Wyatt said, breathing deep still, but...recovering.

He then took off the small messenger bag he had slung across him and started digging through it. Meds and water he had covered - he sat those aside and pulled out the folding cane that he begrudgingly kept on him in cases such as these. He was actually supposed to be using it fairly regularly but..well.... Wyatt was stubborn and prideful.

Now, more collected, he supposed Lukas was owed an explanation. Wyatt wasn't going to give the full details unsolicited, so he'd keep it short and simple. If Lukas really wanted to know, well, it wouldn't be too hard to look up his social media.

Shortly before he had left Destiny City, he had set up an account and chronicled his journey in videos, images, writing... In there was a view of a much more open and light side of Wyatt - singing to the radio, humorous rants in both video and text about how truck stop gas station food had no right being as good as it was, funny and sarcastic reviews of places he had stopped at... Pictures of him at the ranch... Then nothing. The last thing posted wasn't even his post. It was the son of the ranch owner who had posted to Wyatt's page an article of the accident.

"I was in an accident shortly before returning to DC. Turns out big rigs and horses don't mix. Go figure."

The dry humor was.....something. Wyatt unfolded the cane and sat it aside as he then took the water bottle and medication. Ugh. He didn't gag easy (heh,) but pills were always kind of difficult, and he shuddered and shook his head, making a weird face that would have been funny if not for the given situation as he felt it go down. Wyatt then put the medication and water bottle back in his bag. Running a hand over his hair he pushed the straying strands back in to place, and gave a heavy sigh.

"Thanks for the concern. We can keep going just...need to sit a while."

He was too stubborn to let this ruin the 'fun.' Too stubborn to quit.

Wasn't everyone in Destiny City just a stones throw from death? Those involved in the War, especially.. He couldn't tell Lukas that. Nor was that what he meant, Wyatt was sure.

Wyatt leaned a bit and idly rubbed at his ankle as he replied.

"Nah. Medically - perfect health. Mentally, eh," Wyatt made a so-so motion with his hand, "That's questionable, but we've all got our demons - some ghosts," He shrugged.

He had dealt with most of them as well as he could. He felt like he was dealing well enough, but he wasn't really going to test that.

"It's just physical damage. You could try to return me for a non-damaged unit though," Wyatt said,looking over at Lukas with a soft smirk to his lips and a mix of playfulness and 'it is what it is' resignation in his eyes.

Wyatt was...at least trying to be humorous about it. Mostly because..he could tell Lukas was bothered. He wouldn't inquire about his health in that way if there wasn't some sort of something going on there. We've all got our demons, indeed. Wyatt wasn't going to go asking though, not when it was simply just a feeling he got from Lukas, that his concern was triggered by something deeper than just friendly concern, and not even directly because of him and his...whatever.

"I had a therapist once. They suggested I take up plants. I told them to screw off with that. Stopped going. Then I got my first succulent," Wyatt recalled with casual amusement.

The theory was that since every living being who he invested time and emotions in ends up leaving, dying, whatever, he try gardening. Start with something hard to kill. Yeah. He was incredulous at first, too. But it helped to learn that too much attentiveness could harm just as much as too little. But in the end, there was only so much he could tell to a therapist anyway...

"I.." He paused and thought for a moment on Lukas' offer.

He was trying to avoid too much physical interaction - especially from admittedly attractive men. Granted he was assuming Lukas, despite their husband and wife banter, didn't swing that way. Perhaps because of the whole manly woodsman thing, but then again he tended to always assume straight until proven otherwise. BUT, this did just seem like a friendly offer, and not everyone was as manipulative, touchy, and grossly seductive as he had once been. As he was trying not to be anymore. He has spent plenty of time thinking and realizing how disgusting and wrong he had been.... It wasn't right to paint everyone's motives with the same brush as he painted himself.

"I'll take you up on that massage, but I don't think I'm going to be going up those tower steps," A small laugh followed.

Nope. No steps. Screw steps.

There was a humorous look of half-mortified concern at the idea of being carried up those steps.

"You'll have to pardon my questioning of the structural integrity of those steps."

Not to mention the likelihood of clocking his head on a support. Unless Lukas was just slinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes (then slamming him down on a bed all Viking Plunderer style, which was a thought he tucked away deeeeep deep away for now), but his mind first went to a more uh...emasculating princess carry.

"I think we can continue now," Wyatt said, slinging his back back across himself and grabbing his cane.

If they waited much longer, he was sure his ankle would swell up too much for even his aided hobbling.

He'd really rather not do any falling, thank you.

"Yeah. I'd rather not become a mosquito buffet-"

Wyatt began to snark when Lukas started freaking out. Honestly, Wyatt hadn't paid much mind to where he plopped his a** to collect himself. Though he could have sworn it was steps to a building, he hadn't exactly been in a state to care about the details.

"Hell if I know. Care to help me up?"