Accidents Happen (on purpose)
fic links provided by: sorrowfuldragon
Jay gets hurt on set, Jen gets a phone-call from someone who calls Jay a killer. Can he find what the truth is?
(banner will be uploaded when I find sometime, hopefully)
I don’t know what happened. It was all so fast. It took me a moment to realize that it wasn’t fake. That those weren’t Sam’s eyes dimmed with pain. It was ironic really: the script was so accurate that it took us a while to realize Jared wasn’t acting. One moment I was Dean, holding an injured Sam, the next…it was all real.
Jared slumped forward into my arms, head lolling in an almost comical way, but it wasn’t. Not even slightly.
I thought he was joking. But when I let him go, expecting gorgeous eyes to open and a grin to form, all I got was Jared keeling backwards, his head hitting the pavement with a painful crack. Panic set in, and I pulled him towards me.
“Jared! Jared, come on man look at me!” I said, frantically trying to get him to respond.
I yelled for help, and was aware of hands pulling me away, away from Jared. I struggled against them, until someone slapped me, and I turned abruptly to find Eric shouting, “The medics can’t help him if you’re in the way!”
I nodded numbly, the whole scene seeming like it was from a cheap movie. People were running around and shouting, but I couldn’t hear anything. All I could see was Jared lying motionless on the floor.
He was on his stomach, face tilted towards me. He was ghostly pale; his lips tinged slightly blue. There was an object sticking out of his back, and a patch of red stained the expanse of his shirt. Some people, medics, were lifting Jared up onto a stretcher. I wanted to shout at them to be careful, not to hurt him, but I didn’t.
Someone crashed into me, and suddenly it was as if the sound had been switched on again. There was a loud siren, and people were shouting. A few men were carrying Jared to the ambulance. There was no way I was going to leave him alone, I ignored all their protests and followed them into the ambulance.
A nervous looking man said, “I’m sorry sir, but unless you are family you can’t come in here, you have to get out.”
I gave him my death stare, and said in my most threatening Dean-voice, “Make me.”
An older man who was frantically working on Jared said, “Leave it, let’s go.”
I stood at the side, out of the way, and began praying to every god I could think of, hell I even tried to bargain, "Please, please, I’ll do anything, just make him okay, please, I’ll even trade places with him. Just let him be alright."
I looked up, realizing someone was talking to me. It was the older man. He said, “You are going to have to let him be taken to surgery, alone. He needs emergency medical attention. You will have to wait outside. Is that understood?”
I nodded. No way was I going to hinder the doctor’s work. The minute the ambulance came to a halt, the doors were opened and Jared was rushed inside.
My legs were shaky as I made my way down the corridors, "Who could possibly have done this? Who the hell would want to hurt Jared?"
****
He’s been in there for over four hours. I’ve just been waiting.
****
I phoned his parents, they are coming on the first flight they can find. Sandy's in LA, and I only managed to get her secretary. For some reason that makes me angry, Jared is hurt, and she's too busy doing a photo shoot.
Nurses have been rushing in and out of the operating room; some covered in blood. I can’t bear thinking about why that is. I've been in a panicked state ever since Jared went in. I jump up whenever someone opens the door. My cruel mind has even begun picturing life without Jared; picturing living without seeing his goofy grin every day.
The thing is there is no life without Jared; I can’t live without him.
Finally a doctor comes out with blood stained on his pristine white coat. He walks up to me and says, “Are you a family member of Jared Padalecki?”
I reply easily, “As good as.”
After examining me, probably taking in my pale face and chewed-raw lips, he nods. “We made it past the critical stage.”
A wave of relief hits me, but the doctor continues, “He is stable, but I am afraid that he might fall comatose.”
I freeze, "Jared, comatose? No way!"
Jared is the most energetic, bouncy person alive. He is the exact opposite of comatose. I want to say this, but instead just nod dumbly.
“When can I see him?” my voice sounds hoarse and raw, even to me.
“In a few hours. We just need to clean up after the surgery.” And with that, I am once again left by myself.
I must have drifted off, because I am suddenly being shaken awake by a small nurse. I look up at her, “You can see your friend now.”
I give her a smile, the first real one in a while, and follow her to the room. My breath hitches when I see Jared lying face down on the bed, his back completely bare except for the white bandage that is already stained with a patch of red.
The nurse leaves after telling me that a doctor will come and explain Jared’s injuries to me in a moment.
I move to Jared’s side, drop to my knees beside the bed, and take his hand in mine. It’s cold and I rub it gently to try and get some warmth back into it. Not caring if he can hear me or not, I start whispering, “Jay, please don’t do this to me. Please don’t leave me. I need you to wake up, I need you to tell me that it’s okay. I need you, Jay.”
My voice breaks off. My eyes are damp. I smile weakly, “Who’s going to protect me from the fans? Huh? Who’s going to tease me for being short? Who’s going to kick my ass playing 'James Bond'?”
I realize I'm not alone, and look up to see the doctor standing beside two men in uniform. I stand up hastily, wiping a hand across my eyes to try and hide the dampness.
The doctor smiles sympathetically at me, and says, “These officers are here to ask you a few questions.”
I manage to keep myself from snapping at them only by reminding myself that any information I can give them will help find the perpetrator.
Nodding, I say, “What do you need?”
The two men approach the bed, and I automatically shift to place myself between Jared and them. They exchange glances, “Mr.Ackles, we can imagine how difficult this must be for you, but you have to understand that this is a criminal investigation. We have retrieved the knife that was used to replace the prop.
“Your director - Kim Manners - has explained the scene that was being filmed at the time, but we would like to get your statement as soon as possible. When the victim wakes-”
“The victim has a name, you know?” I snarl.
Continuing with merely an eyebrow-raise at his partner, “- When Mr.Padalecki wakes, we will need to talk with him as well. According to Mr. Manners and various eye-witnesses, the prop-knife was checked an hour prior to the filming. I am afraid we have to ask: Where were you at that time?”
I blink at them. They think I did it?
The man continues hurriedly, “You have to understand that currently you are our main suspect in this investigation.”
“Fuck you,” I spit.
They don’t react. The doctor clears his throat, “Uhm, do you really think this is the right place to have this conversation?”
The officers glance around me towards Jared, and ask, “How’s he doing?”
“As good as can be expected.”
“When will he wake up?”
The doctor frowns, “It’s impossible to tell.”
With a nod, the one officer turns to me again, “I’m sorry Mr.Ackles, but I need to know where you were between twelve and one this afternoon.”
Letting out a frustrated huff at the fact that they’re wasting time checking up on me; while the real attempted murderer is still out there, I say, “I was with Jared. We spent lunch in my trailer. Watching a movie and eating. Oh, and we went out to annoy Eric at some stage.”
The officer nods, “Yes, Mr. Kripke mentioned you two are virtually inseparable.”
My lips pull into a small smile, and I say, “And yet you accuse me of doing this.”
With a shake of his head the officer replies, “We aren’t accusing you of anything, we are merely checking all possible suspects.”
The other officer locks eyes with me, “We need you to tell us what you saw. However meaningless it might seem, anything could provide us with a clue.”
Appreciating the lack of accusation in the man’s tone, I begin to helpfully recount the events of the day.
Finally after having to relive the worst moment of my life over and over, the officers shut their notebooks, bid me farewell, and leave, soon followed by the doctor.
Finally left alone with Jared, the long delayed rage begins to fill me. Someone hurt Jared. It wasn’t an accident. Someone had purposefully wanted to harm him.
I feel like killing whoever this person is, and I fully intend to. But since now is not the time, I turn back to Jared and sit on the bed. I look at my friend, my best friend; I hold his hand and begin to talk.
I talk about everything that comes to mind. About the camping trip we are planning on taking with Chris, Tom, Mike, and Steve. (“Don’t you dare leave me alone to deal with Mike’s crap.”), about the pranks we are planning to pull on Kim and Eric, about the latest football match, about Jared’s dogs, about the camp our little sisters are going to together, about the trip to Disneyland that Jared's somehow managed to convince me to go on with him, about how Supernatural season three will go (if there even is another season), I basically talk non-stop for hours.
********
My voice is even hoarser than it had been before, but I carry on talking, feeling almost as though, if I stopped then Jared will let go.
*******
It's about eleven when Jared’s parents finally arrive. I force myself to stand up and allow them to be with alone with him. Surprisingly, Jared’s mom gives me a hug, and his dad shakes my hand, both thanking me for being there for their son. I nearly shout at them, “Where the hell else do you think I’d be?” but contain myself.
RealizingI’m intruding; I manage to drag myself away, and sit in the seat I am already beginning to hate, out in the corridor.
I sit there, staring at the broken clock. An hour or two later, Jared’s parents, his mom with tear streaks down her cheeks, come out and say that they'll be back later, they just need to check into a hotel because Jared's house only has a single spare bed.
They try to convince me to go with them for some lunch. I just stare at them numbly. They get the picture, and with a final hug, they leave. I practically run back into the room, and sit on the chair beside Jared, once again holding his - now slightly warmer - hand, and absentmindedly my thumb begins making soothing circles on the back of it.
It's not long until the nurse comes in and turns Jared over onto his back, with his side elevated by a triangular pillow so he doesn’t lie on the wound. Jared’s chest is bare except for the white bandage that runs across it.
I am once again amazed at the tanned expanse of toned muscles. Jared is such a fun, playful, goofy and caring person that people often forget why he's been voted as one of the hottest males in the celebrity world.
The nurse also seems transfixed, and when I cough, she jumps, blushing scarlet. I smile at her, knowing exactly how she feels. She smiles back nervously and mutters something about getting me lunch. I really can't think of eating right now, not when the last meal I ate was with Jared, laughing as we watched Jackass. The thought makes my gut clench, and I begin rambling to Jared again: About how we are so going to apply for parts in the third Jackass movie, and about the nurse who has a crush on him, and that Jared can’t die or go into a coma, as the world would be filled with sobbing fan-girls…and boys, me included.
The nurse returns, carrying a tray laden with sandwiches, just as I am telling Jared how much I will kick his ass for scaring me this bad. As she sets down the tray, I can’t resist the temptation, and I add, “Pretty ass too, don’t you think, Nurse?”
She fumbles, turning beetroot again. I chuckle and thank her for the meal. I don’t touch the sandwiches, just take a sip of water. It feels solid in my throat. I turn back to Jared, he looks so peaceful, like he’s just sleeping, I have to stop myself from trying to shake him awake.
Having to remind myself that he wasn’t just sleeping, for some reason that breaks me, the past eight hours of fear and pain finally catch up to me, and I begin sobbing, pressing my face into Jared’s neck.
I beg him not to leave me, telling him that I can’t live without him, that if he dies, I won’t be far behind him, that… that I love him. My breath catches as I realize what I have just said. After a pause, I say that I really do.
Footsteps alert me, and I quickly sit up, wiping my face furiously. I turn around to see the doctor. She checks Jared’s vitals, and looks surprised, “This is good…this is very good.”
She looks up at me, “Whatever you’ve been doing, it seems to be working. His body is fighting furiously against the coma. If this continues, he could wake up in a few hours.”
The doctor leaves again and I stare down at Jared, “Hey buddy, did you hear that? You’re going to be fine, just keep fighting. Come on, if you managed to beat me at football, then this should be a piece of cake. Imagine the shame of being beaten by a coma.” I say, brushing the hair out of his face, his skin is still cold, so I place my palms on either side of his face, trying to transfer some of my heat to him. I run my thumb along the dark patches below his eyes, and I whisper, “Keep fighting… please.”
I sit back in the chair, and begin talking about the new movie coming out that we both want to see. I talk about my mom who keeps trying to hook me up with a girl from her church. I even make a bargain with him, “Okay Jay, if you wake up, I promise to buy you as much candy as you could possibly eat, just don’t come running to me when you get fat.”
An hour later I am rambling about how the weather is getting warmer, so summer will soon be here, and we can go visit the lake again, when I see an eyelid flicker, “Jay? Jay, come on man, wake up?”
Jared’s eye opens a crack, “Jen…” I pull him into a massive hug, being careful of his injuries, and just holding onto him for dear life.
“Jen."
Reluctantly I pull away and look Jared in the eye. “Jesus Jay, all the things I’ve been talking about, and you choose to wake up when I'm talking about the weather,” I say, grinning.
Jared smiles back at me, his face lighting up the gloomy room, “What can I say, I always wanted to be a weatherman.”
He tries to sit up, but I hold him down firmly, “Don’t move Jay, hold on I’ll call the doctor.”
I push the emergency button, and soon nurses are rushing in, and Jared is being prodded and poked, while a light is shone in his eyes.
The doctor comes up to me, “He’s going to be okay now. He’s very lucky, not many people would have survived this, let alone have woken up.” I smile and look down at him.
When they have finally all gone, Jared lifts his hand. I immediately take hold of it, and rub it gently between mine.
“Wow, Jen…I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that much.”
I smile sheepishly, “You heard that, huh?”
Jared returns my smile, “Every word.”
My embarrassment is overshadowed by my joy, and I lean over to hug him again.
“Dude, you stink.” I say wrinkling my nose.
Jared laughs, “Right back at you. Dude, I’m starving, you got any food?” I look around and spot the sandwiches.
Between the two of us we finish the plate in no time at all, and Jared gulps down the water.
“So, what was the deal with the knife?” Jared says casually.
I had almost forgotten about that. Anger fills me anew, “Someone switched the knives. If I ever get my hands on them…” I growl.
Jared squeezes my hand, “Hey it’s okay. I’m here,” Jared smiles, “and I think someone owes me some candy.”
I grin at him. A few minutes later, I phone his parents to tell them he’s awake. They sound so relieved, and half an hour later I'd grabbed a shower, and the blushing nurse had sponge bathed Jared, when his parents come rushing in almost smothering Jared.
I smile, and excuse myself.
I break into a run the minute I step out into the corridor. I run out of the hospital and into the closest shop I can find, loading a basket with bags of sweets, all the ones Jared loves. I grab a few bars of chocolate, and a couple of cokes, before paying for it all and racing back to the hospital.
I sit outside Jared’s room while I catch my breath, before opening the door, and walking in. Jared’s mom is busy saying something like, “…never left your side, amazing friend.” But she stops, when she sees me.
Jared breaks into a grin that I mirror, when he sees the candy and me. He gives out something like a squeal and grabs for the gummi bears. He tears open the packet, offers some to everyone, not accepting no as an answer, before eating any himself. That's so typically Jared that I can’t help grinning even more.
I feel dazed, dizzy and disorientated. A few hours ago, I had experienced more fear than I had ever even imagined before, and now I'm busy grinning like a maniac.
CONTINUED