fic; For the numb and naive; part 1.
Title; For the numb and naive.
Rating: PG.
Summary; A prompt over at glee_angst_meme "Jesse has an addiction to prescription drugs. Will finds out and he starts getting help, but relapses again and accidentally overdoses during school. He has an episode during glee practice and has to be rushed to the hospital.
Ending can be happy or sad."
Warning; Prescription drug abuse. and un-beta'd. Should someone want to volunteer, that'd be awesome.
Will Schuester resented being called naive. In a spitting insult from Terri, in a gentle smile by his kids, in a witty pun by Sue followed by an insult about his leave-in conditioner. Contrary to popular belief, Will fervently believed that years of washing dishes and studying accounting at some backlot college, he’s got a pretty good idea of people. Quiet kids who are only quiet because the letter don’t make sense in their heads. Priests who go home and slap their wives. All star athletics kids supporting their families on the profits made from dealing. And still...he never expected this.
He wandered into the choir room; it must have been late, because the classroom lights had shut off and the only noise left was the quiet hum of the night cleaner somewhere far away. Will peered around and rifled through a pile of papers on his desk, frowning disdainfully. He slings his bag off onto the top of the piano, sighs, and lowers himself, feeling around underneath the shelves for his elusive piece of sheet music. Grasping it between his forefingers, he grins, and a sudden thud makes him spin, smashing his head on the underside of a shelf in his speed.
The smirk falls off his face.
“Jesse?” he says, not entirely convinced that he hadn’t suddenly suffered a fairly severe concussion. The infamous Jesse St. James, idolised by many and wanted to be lynched by many more, appeared to be stood before him- stood be a vague approximation- his curls flopping sadly onto his forehead and looking sweaty and uncomfortable.
“Mm?” was the only response he was gifted before Jesse crashed down onto one of the wooden choir room chairs, allowing his head to roll forward on his neck as if it required extreme effort to stay awake. Shue let his sheet music flutter to the floor. It took him only three long strides to be over there, one knee bent in front of his semi-conscious student. He placed a hand under his chin, feeling the musty sheet of sweat underneath his fingers, trying to peer into his student’s eyes; they were glassy and frightened.
“Jesse...are you drunk?” Will asked, his voice cracking, not only because a second drunk Glee kid is the last thing he needs on his record.
Jesse rears his head away, trying to push himself up. Schuester leans across Jesse’s lap for the black, pin marked bag and his heart sank when he wasn’t even surprised that it rattled with the same empty hollowness of his Mom’s countless empty Xanax bottles. He slings the boys- he’s a kid for goddsake, he’s barely 17- arm over his shoulder and makes for the car.
***
When Jesse wakes up, he rolls over on a sofa that is far too small for his 6’3’’ body and is startled by suddenly being surrounded by paper-mache owls and popsicle stick lizards. He is further startled by the fact that a) his head feels like it’s about to tumble of his shoulders and b) Mr Schuester is holding a mug of coffee in one hand and several little orange containers in the other. Shit..Will raised his eyebrows.
“Feeling alright?” Jesse nods, then regrets it. Will raises his eyebrows.
“Explain?” Jesse shakes his head, then regrets it. Will raises his eyebrows.
The older man sets down the mug in his hand then perches next to it.”It wasn’t a request.”.
Jesse looks around. His leather jacket had been meticulously folded and placed on the back of the sofa. His Chuck Taylor’s were laid by his grubby feet. He still had on his black t-shirt and jeans but still, he felt exposed.
“Something must have got mixed up...I don’t know. I lost track. It doesn’t matter.”
“Mixed up? It’s no wonder, with that many meds in your bag I’m surprised you made it to 17.”
“You have no clue.”
“About what? What? I mean, it’s just for fun, right? Just a joke, go out with Vocal Adrenaline and pop a few pills to make you feel like these hard done by, martyred celebrities? I’m so glad my kids have more sense if this is what Vocal Adrenaline is all about.”
“It’s nothing to do with them,”
“Oh what so you just hang around after school and take this....this shit, maybe wash it down with your Dad’s Jack Daniels, to...what? Make you feel grown up?”
“Don’t talk about my Dad.”
The Apartment rang with silence. Jesse’s eyes hit the ground and stay there.
Rating: PG.
Summary; A prompt over at glee_angst_meme "Jesse has an addiction to prescription drugs. Will finds out and he starts getting help, but relapses again and accidentally overdoses during school. He has an episode during glee practice and has to be rushed to the hospital.
Ending can be happy or sad."
Warning; Prescription drug abuse. and un-beta'd. Should someone want to volunteer, that'd be awesome.
Will Schuester resented being called naive. In a spitting insult from Terri, in a gentle smile by his kids, in a witty pun by Sue followed by an insult about his leave-in conditioner. Contrary to popular belief, Will fervently believed that years of washing dishes and studying accounting at some backlot college, he’s got a pretty good idea of people. Quiet kids who are only quiet because the letter don’t make sense in their heads. Priests who go home and slap their wives. All star athletics kids supporting their families on the profits made from dealing. And still...he never expected this.
He wandered into the choir room; it must have been late, because the classroom lights had shut off and the only noise left was the quiet hum of the night cleaner somewhere far away. Will peered around and rifled through a pile of papers on his desk, frowning disdainfully. He slings his bag off onto the top of the piano, sighs, and lowers himself, feeling around underneath the shelves for his elusive piece of sheet music. Grasping it between his forefingers, he grins, and a sudden thud makes him spin, smashing his head on the underside of a shelf in his speed.
The smirk falls off his face.
“Jesse?” he says, not entirely convinced that he hadn’t suddenly suffered a fairly severe concussion. The infamous Jesse St. James, idolised by many and wanted to be lynched by many more, appeared to be stood before him- stood be a vague approximation- his curls flopping sadly onto his forehead and looking sweaty and uncomfortable.
“Mm?” was the only response he was gifted before Jesse crashed down onto one of the wooden choir room chairs, allowing his head to roll forward on his neck as if it required extreme effort to stay awake. Shue let his sheet music flutter to the floor. It took him only three long strides to be over there, one knee bent in front of his semi-conscious student. He placed a hand under his chin, feeling the musty sheet of sweat underneath his fingers, trying to peer into his student’s eyes; they were glassy and frightened.
“Jesse...are you drunk?” Will asked, his voice cracking, not only because a second drunk Glee kid is the last thing he needs on his record.
Jesse rears his head away, trying to push himself up. Schuester leans across Jesse’s lap for the black, pin marked bag and his heart sank when he wasn’t even surprised that it rattled with the same empty hollowness of his Mom’s countless empty Xanax bottles. He slings the boys- he’s a kid for goddsake, he’s barely 17- arm over his shoulder and makes for the car.
***
When Jesse wakes up, he rolls over on a sofa that is far too small for his 6’3’’ body and is startled by suddenly being surrounded by paper-mache owls and popsicle stick lizards. He is further startled by the fact that a) his head feels like it’s about to tumble of his shoulders and b) Mr Schuester is holding a mug of coffee in one hand and several little orange containers in the other. Shit..Will raised his eyebrows.
“Feeling alright?” Jesse nods, then regrets it. Will raises his eyebrows.
“Explain?” Jesse shakes his head, then regrets it. Will raises his eyebrows.
The older man sets down the mug in his hand then perches next to it.”It wasn’t a request.”.
Jesse looks around. His leather jacket had been meticulously folded and placed on the back of the sofa. His Chuck Taylor’s were laid by his grubby feet. He still had on his black t-shirt and jeans but still, he felt exposed.
“Something must have got mixed up...I don’t know. I lost track. It doesn’t matter.”
“Mixed up? It’s no wonder, with that many meds in your bag I’m surprised you made it to 17.”
“You have no clue.”
“About what? What? I mean, it’s just for fun, right? Just a joke, go out with Vocal Adrenaline and pop a few pills to make you feel like these hard done by, martyred celebrities? I’m so glad my kids have more sense if this is what Vocal Adrenaline is all about.”
“It’s nothing to do with them,”
“Oh what so you just hang around after school and take this....this shit, maybe wash it down with your Dad’s Jack Daniels, to...what? Make you feel grown up?”
“Don’t talk about my Dad.”
The Apartment rang with silence. Jesse’s eyes hit the ground and stay there.