J² Fic: Quarantine (8/?)
Title: Quarantine (8/?)
Characters: Jared/Jensen
Word Count: 2300/?
Warning: G. Unfortunately unbeta-ed.
A/N: Written for the lovely
mad_server and her awesome Again but with Colds comment-fic meme. It kinda started a life of its own now...
A/N2: Thanks to some lovely comments I'm finally finishing this! Yay, to the magic of comments! It's short, but it is a start :)
***One month after H1N1 arrived on its shores, China puts up stringent quarantine measures to prevent a pandemic of the disease ... As so many other Americans Jensen and Jared get caught in one of the dragnets.
From the beginning
***
"So you do have a crush,” she insists, tossing Miles an amused look as they enter the lab.
"No, I don't,” he dismisses his co-worker’s teases, “I mean he's pretty and all, but, well, I don't really think he’s gay. Not for me anyway."
“What is that supposed to mean? You look like a male underwear model, Sullivan,” she bumps him in the side with her elbow and holds out a hot cup of java. Miles accepts her offering with an dramatic eye-roll and they sip in silence for a few minutes.
“Well, then he must be straight.” he finally concludes for her.
“… or blind,” she chirps.
The irony is not lost on him. “Yeah… do we have spare glasses?”
“I like the way you think, Sullivan,” she laughs and blows him a kiss from across the room before she focuses back on her sample under the microscope.
***
The doctor's lounge is silent, except for the muffled noise put out by the poor excuse for a TV. Miles’ eyes are fixated on the tiny screen in the corner - technically, he is looking in that direction, but his eyes are just staring off into space.
His hand presses button combinations on the remote blindly, clicking through the channels without paying any attention to the content.
"All this can be yours for only - say it with me, folks - $19.95!" - Zap -
“The H1N1 virus continues to cause pandemonium…” - Zap -
“…here from Channel 5 reporting live from the...” - Zap -
“I am Ellen Degeneres and this is the end of my show today, I will see you all …” - Zap -
“Eat my shorts! - Baaaaart!” - Zap -
“…claims more and more victims every day. The authorities …” - Zap -
"Call now and we'll double your order absolutely free!” - Zap -
He bends his neck over the back of the couch and groans irritably. Feeling even more on edge than before, he decides to stop pretending and turns off the TV.
He sighs and apathetically picks at the untouched tuna sandwich in front of him. He takes out the onions and sets them to the side of his plate; appetite nonexistent.
"God I can't even eat," he admits to himself, but forces a bite down nevertheless.
He throws a glance at the clock then and it only makes him tense up more. Time was just flying, as is usually the case in such situations.
He pushes his plate aside and opens the file in front of him. As if he needed a reminder...
He picks up the phone, still hoping to think of some excuse to put off the dreaded call just a little longer, but he can't think of a single one. Deep down he knows nothing will be accomplished by avoiding it. He is a man of his word after all - at least when he gives his word to someone who he kinda cares about. So he opens the file, punches the number in and waits as the phone rings.
"Hello?" A groggy voice answers at the second ring, and Miles can’t help but freeze up. What little resolve he just had, begins to trickle away.
"Jared Pada-lec-ki?"
"It’s Padalecki... ‘scuse me, who's this?" The actor demands.
"This is Changi General Hos-"
"Finally!” Jared cuts him off, suddenly alert.”Jensen! Is he okay?"
Miles calms himself and tries to stick to the protocol. "Changi General Hospital. My name is Dr. Sullivan, I’m treating Mr. Ackles at the moment. Your phone number is listed as his emergency contact.”
"Yes! Yes, I’m his ICE," Jared breathes out, already preparing for a long rant.
“As you know, Mr. Ackles was admitted to the hospital last night."
“So how is he?” Jared asks again, fearing the answer.
"His condition hasn’t improved, but his vitals are fairly stable.”
"Okay. When can I see him?"
Miles bites his lip. "Mr. Padalecki, can we meet?" He swallows and decides to just go with the truth, "I need to talk to you … there are things we must discuss, preferably not over the phone."
"Uhm … sure." Jared hesitates, alarmed by the sudden secrecy. "I can be there in 20 minutes."
"I’d appreciate that. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop next to the main entrance." Miles would have preferred to talk in a more secluded place, but he doesn't press.
He hangs up, and sags deep into the couch. Massaging his temples in deep thought, he wonders what the hell he’s trying to accomplish here. He forces himself to take another bite off his sandwich before he finally throws it away and heads down the hall to get his sixth caffeine fix of the day.
When he gets to the nurses’ station he pours himself a scolding hot cup of coffee and turns around to walk back the other way. It's become somewhat of a personal routine.
He passes Jensen’s room and this time plans to walk right by; keep some professional distance, the same way he's tried to keep himself from getting too caught up about Jensen. But the latter hasn't worked, and he knows he can't walk away.
He peeks through the blinds to make sure he's still sleeping, but he finds him tossing on the bed, pillow clutched to his chest.
“You’re still up?” he asks softly, as he closes the door behind him and heads for the drawer to pull out some new gloves and a face mask.
“Mmh, I’m wide awake,” the blond groans frustrated and turns on his back to face his doctor.
“You need to get some rest, Jensen. The body recovers best while sleeping."
“I’m fine,” he mumbles, then makes a swift movement with his hand. “What’s with the masquerade?”
"Your test came back positive.”
Jensen hesitates, his voice sticking in his throat. He doesn't know what to say. Miles clears his voice after giving him a few seconds to let the news sink in.
“We’re doing one more follow-up. If that comes back with the same results, I will start you on the treatment immediately,” he tries to reassure. „It's gonna be okay. Your vitals are looking good,” he goes on, checking the monitor at the bed side. “But your fever’s still going up …,” he trails off and turns around to face Jensen. “How are you feeling?”
“Really?”
“Really. Headache? Nausea? Any pain?”
“A little - No - And does body count?”
Miles flicks the beam from his pen light into Jensen's eyes. Both pupils are reacting almost normally. Almost being the operative word.
"You’re not quite over that minor concussion there. Which is why you should sleep!”
“I can't," he whispers. Miles waits for him to elaborate, but he obviously isn't going to.
“I talked to Jared.”
"What - What did he say?" He strains to keep his voice quiet, almost casual, but curiosity is burning in his eyes.
“I told him you were doing okay. He asked to see you.” A small smile appears on Jensen’s face.
“Where is he?”
“Jensen, you are in quarantine. It’s not like …,” he holds on when he sees the crushed look in Jensen’s eyes. “I will see what I can do.”
His words do nothing to lessen the frown on the actor’s lips, Jensen looks just as miserable as before.
“Let me worry about Jared, okay?” He starts again. “But I can’t worry about you, too. I need you to get some rest now, okay?”
“I’ll try,” he replies, inwardly knowing that it will be a failed attempt.
“Good. I'm gonna give you a mild sedative,” he continues, "just to help you sleep."
Jensen shakes his head softly, but he doesn’t fight Miles either, when he deftly injects the contents of a syringe into his IV port.
“Okay, take it easy,” Miles says, turning around to put the needle away, “just give it a few seconds.”
“Miles, wait. Can you …”
Jensen takes his doctor by surprise, when he suddenly grips his arm.
"Shiiiittttt, Jensen!" Miles yelps and spins around to find his patient swaying right in front of him. "Back to bed - now, before that anesthetic takes effect and I end up having to carry you. Again."
"S-rry… can you...," Jensen pants as he slowly looses the battle, face twitching from the effort of still trying to override his body. Miles threads his arm over his shoulder and turns him around.
“God, you’re a handful.” He more or less carries Jensen as the sedative truly starts taking effect, then tries to unfold himself from his arms as he lowers him onto the bed.
"You're going to bed, I'm not,” he laughs easily.
"C-can you tell’m," Jensen whispers all of a sudden feeling really tired. His eyes feel heavy and he can't stop them from closing. Within seconds his breathing becomes more even. "Tell Sammey I misss‘m," he slurs, and Miles' lips curl up into a soft, understanding smile.
***
The coffee shop is filled with people, escaping from the hot air outside. One empty table lies in the bright sunlight, which is quickly occupied by the two young men.
Jared unbuttons his collar and gives a sigh at the heated afternoon, sweat running down his face.
Miles shrugs out of his jacket and places it over the chair, leaving him in his scrubs. He feels shaky, almost jittery, his palms are sweaty and his heart is racing. He blames it on the caffeine, but deep down he knows that’s only half the truth. He paints a friendly expression on his face and with another sip of hot java, he starts to stumble through the words he has rehearsed in his head.
“ - …so I got the results a few hours ago. The test came back positive,” he pauses.
“What….what do you mean?” Jared says, rather unintelligently. His voice sounds small even to his own ears, and he clears his throat. “He’s not… I thought you said…”
“He is fine for now,” Miles confirms, his voice kind but firm, “And I try to keep it that way, which means no visitors. If he were to contract something, I seriously doubt he’s got the strength to fight it off in his current state, especially if he isn’t sleeping.”
Jared gulps and nods. He feels a little sick. Dammit… he doesn’t want to even contemplate the possibilities.
“Okay,” he hears himself say, his voice a little hoarse. “I understand. Where is he?”
Now the young doctor looks uncomfortable. He smooths out the front of his scrubs, eyes studiously avoiding his. “Mr Padalecki, when I say ‘no visitors’…”
“What?” he says for what must be the hundredth time during this conversation. “Why not?” His own voice is louder than appropriate for a coffee shop, fueled by a sudden rise of panic. “Why not?” he repeats, his voice slightly quieter now. “Why can’t I see him? I mean, I’m the one he spent the last 72 hours with. He’s already been exposed to anything I might be carrying.”
He’s working hard to keep his voice even; The other man is just doing his job here, after all. And though he obviously cares about the situation, Jensen is far from the only patient in his charge. He can see how tired the young doctor must be-his shoulders are slightly hunched, and the bags under his eyes bespeak many long shifts.
Miles' face grows stern. “Would you rather him be sick?”
“I-” he breaks off with a frustrated growl. “I don’t want him to be alone for-how long?”
“Best case scenario, we’re thinking a week, but it really depends on him,” he exhales slowly. “Listen…,” his features soften into a small, understanding smile. “I know you’re eager to see Jensen, but this is an …unusual situation, so I'm approaching it with maximum caution, for both your sakes. You need to think about what’s best for him.”
Jared kind of wants to hit something. Because Miles is right. Damn it. He huffs a sigh, agitated, and stares at the floor, hands clasped loosely between his knees.
“Look, doc,” he says, with as much patience as he can muster, which admittedly isn’t much. “Keeping him totally locked up isn’t gonna do him much good, either. It’d probably be almost as bad for him.” If Jensen wasn’t sleeping, when by all rights he should be too weak to do much else but sleep, something was definitely up with him, something that solitude was not going to help. He looks up at him. “Let me see him. Please.”
“As you can imagine,” Miles begins, “you can’t just walk into the quarantine ward," he replies tersely, "and quite frankly, not even I have the authority.” Now it’s Miles’ eyes that flash with irritation and Jared can’t really blame him for it.
Doesn’t mean he can help being pissed right back.
Abruptly, he stands up. “Forget it,” he mutters. “Thank you for your time. Tell Jensen hi for me.” He turns and starts walking towards the exit. He’s about to reach for the door when the doctor’s voice makes him pause.
“Mr. Padalecki!”
He glances behind him. “Yeah?”
“Wait…” he pauses, and closes his eyes for a moment, as if steeling himself. “There might be a way,” he says.
Jared blinks, surprised.
“I only tell you this because I get the feeling you’ll go find a way whatever I say and as for Jensen, I’m pretty sure I’ll have to strap him down and sedate him in order to keep him from wandering off in order to find you."
“Thank you,” Jared says, sincerely.
“Don’t thank me, this conversation never happened,” he says briskly, turning around and beginning to walk.
“Follow me,” he adds over his shoulder.
***
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