More Than Friends And Brothers (Jason/Tommy)
Hiya, folks -- have a new chapter! More angst, no seXXors this time (but there WILL be more soon, I promise!) and the second part of what has now turned into a three-part chapter/arc (again).
Title: More Than Friends And Brothers, Ch. 18: Homecoming, Pt. 2
Author: germankitty
Relationship: Jason/Tommy
Rating: this chapter PG, overall NC-17
Warning: none
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox, but the toys I'm borrowing are AWESOME!
Note: In response to the Live Journal PRSW22 challenge, themes #09, hallways and #15, peace
Note II: *groans* Another three-parter. Completely unplanned, but … I'd have to cut it up for posting anyway, so here you go. Sorry about the delay, but I was on vacation with no net access for over two weeks. *sigh*
Note III: Any medical mistakes are wholly mine; I've had to rely a good deal on online research - thanks, wikipedia! (And thank you, Julia, for bringing a detail to my attention that perhaps needed to be put into the story; hope I met your expectation!) Anyway, enjoy, and please pass by the feedback box on your way out?
More Than Friends And Brothers
Chapter 18: Homecoming, Pt.2
Early-morning traffic in downtown Angel Grove was as bad as Jason remembered as he navigated his car towards the hospital. He was approaching the turnoff when he had to stop at a traffic light and cast a cursory glance into the rearview mirror. He was mildly surprised by how scruffy and haggard he looked. Although, he shouldn't be; after all, he'd barely taken the time to shower and throw on fresh clothes before he left.
*I can't let Mom see me like this …*
Every instinct screamed at him to hurry, to go to his mother, but the need to concentrate on the road during the long drive, as much as Tommy's soothing, rational voice in his mind when he wished him a safe trip, had served to calm him down enough that Jason was able to drive by his hotel first. He couldn't do much about the dark circles under his eyes nor his anxious pallor, but there was time for freshening up and a perfunctory shave. Barely fifteen minutes after checking in Jason had called Tommy, gotten back in his car and was on the way to the hospital, a large coffee from a drive-by fast food place next to him. He didn't feel like eating, but at least the caffeine served to clear his mind as he sipped the hot beverage. Arriving at Angel Grove Memorial at last, he parked his car and strode towards the main entrance. The receptionist directed him to the oncology ward, and once there he waited with barely-concealed impatience until someone at the nurses' station found time to answer his questions.
"Yes, sir?"
"I'd like to see Mrs. Scott," he murmured. "She's a patient here."
The nurse on duty gave him a searching look. "I'm sorry, but visits to critical-care patients are for family only. It's hospital policy."
Jason blanched at the word 'critical'. "I'm her son," he said tightly, garnering a raised eyebrow.
"Can you prove that? I'd need more than just your driver's license."
Jason bit back a sharp reply, then reached for his wallet, sending a silent 'thank-you' back to Tommy in Reefside for suggesting he bring his birth certificate. He showed the document to the nurse. "Yeah, here."
She checked the data, then nodded, making a notation on a chart. "Very well. Room 341. Follow me, please; I'll take you."
"Thanks."
Just outside the room, Jason stopped the nurse. "How … how is she?" he asked hoarsely.
Compassionate blue eyes met haunted dark ones. "Hanging on. You'd better ask her doctor once his shift starts in an hour, but … don't be shocked when you see her. She's having a pretty extreme reaction to the chemo, unusually so, and what with the side effects … it's not pretty. I'm sorry."
"I don't care what she looks like. I just want to see her."
"Right. Just thought I'd warn you." The nurse started to open the door, then paused. "Oh, one more thing. She's drifting in and out of consciousness most of the time and her memory is a little addled; it's one of the side effects of the meds, and most likely temporary, so don't let it faze you, okay?"
"I'll try." *Oh God. Will Mom even recognize me?*
"Uh huh. Come on then. Dr. Gonzales will come round later." Entering the room, the nurse adopted a professionally-cheerful tone. "Good morning, Helen. I've brought you a visitor."
An unintelligible moan came from the bed, and Jason felt his stomach churn. He was able to see his mother over the nurse's shoulder, and he was glad that he had a wall to momentarily lean against - surely that pale, weak person in her vomit-stained hospital gown couldn't be the vital, lively woman he remembered? He had to swallow hard several times and barely heard the nurse's request to step into the hallway again for a minute. Numbly, he obeyed. Outside, he closed his eyes as he waited, his head bowed and his mind veering from blank to frantic and back again. Only when he was beckoned back into the room did he realize how much he'd needed those extra few minutes to regain at least a semblance of composure.
Helen Scott was dressed in a fresh gown when he finally got to her bedside; however, the nurse's small, kind effort to make her a little more presentable had had little effect. Jason found his mother's skin still grey and papery-looking, her hair was limp and she looked weak and wasted, having lost more weight than she could afford.
Gingerly, Jason sat down on a stool and picked up a fragile hand. "Hello, Mom," he murmured, automatically beginning to rub circles on the dry skin with his thumb. "I- it's me, Jason." He felt stupid identifying himself like this, but the blue eyes seemed to look through him.
"J-jason?" Helen stammered, then coughed weakly. Her whole body convulsed and heaved as nausea made her retch violently, as if even that single word had been too much. Alarmed, Jason grabbed a kidney-shaped metal bowl from the nightstand, but there was nothing left to come up. Finally, the spasm subsided and Helen sank back into the pillow with a low moan. "Hurts …"
"I'm so sorry, Mom," Jason whispered, lifting her hand and holding it to his cheek. "I wish there was something I could do."
He got no answer, just another moan as a second, lighter spasm shook the frail body. It killed him to see his mother, whom he only knew as energetic and full of laughter, like this, and the feeling of utter helplessness didn't fade when another nurse came in and quietly exchanged the bags of fluid hooked up to an IV stand. Jason had no idea what they contained, but he assumed that it was either nutrients or more of the drugs that made his mother ill. Part of him wanted to rip the needle out of her arm, to shout at the doctors and nurses to stop this torture, but another, sane, rational part of his mind told him sternly not to be an idiot. *If Mom doesn't get whatever they're giving her, she might die - either because the cancer can come back, or because she'll starve or dehydrate completely!*
With a weary sigh, Jason rested his arms on the bed's railing, pressing Helen's hand against his beginning-to-ache head. How long he sat there, he had no idea; whenever his mother murmured a few incoherent words or stirred, he tried talking to her in low, soothing tones, but except for the one time she'd said his name there was no sign that she recognized him or even knew he was with her. Outside of the quiet room, activity in the ward picked up; meals were brought to patients, trays removed, doctors and nurses bustled about and a few early visitors dropped in on relatives and friends. Jason couldn't care less; all his attention was focused on the sick woman lying before him. Only when the door to his mother's room opened and whoever entered with firm steps stopped right after crossing the threshold did he turn to look who had come.
Still gripping the door handle, his stocky frame silhouetted against the bright corridor lights, stood his father.
Slowly, Jason straightened. He knew he'd gone pale, but didn't care - he wasn't here to stir up trouble, he just wanted to be with his sick mother! It took considerable effort, but Jason managed to meet the dark eyes so like his own. Like the last time he'd looked into them, over four years ago, they were blank and shuttered … staring right through him. Inwardly, Jason sighed. He knew what the pinched lips meant - there was no softening in John Scott's attitude; there would be no reconciliation.
*I told myself I didn't expect anything from Dad. Looks like I've been lying to myself … I know now that deep down I had hoped …*
Clenching his teeth against the urge to force a reaction, any sign that he still existed for his father, Jason carefully released his mother's hand and stood. Determinedly ignoring the disapproval radiating across the room from the frozen older man, he bent and kissed his mother's forehead.
"Bye, Mom. You hang in there, you hear? I'll be back later."
When he approached the doorway, he tried to read his father's expression, but met only the same blank wall he'd been seeing since he'd revealed his relationship with Tommy. Mutely, John stepped aside and looked pointedly the other way, making it abundantly clear that he expected Jason to leave, now. Jason permitted himself a tiny, sad smile, nodded once and left, with just one anxious backward glance towards his mother. As soon as he had taken but two steps into the busy hallway, the door to room 341 clicked shut.
***
Talking to his mother's attending physician helped alleviate Jason's fear about her life to some degree; there were serious concerns, but it seemed her condition wasn't quite as hopeless as Rachel Oliver had made it sound. Jason didn't blame her; she'd told him that her information had come second-hand, and he was glad he'd made the trip. When all was said and done, he'd missed his mother too much, and seeing her again, being at her side when she needed support from all sides, was a Good Thing. Sighing, at a loss for what to do while his father was with Helen, he decided he might as well go outside and wait in the sunshine. Making a brief detour through the hospital public cafeteria, Jason bought a sandwich and some coffee, then took both outside to the small park behind the main building. He found a bench, sat down and had a first sip of coffee. The sandwich wasn't really appealing, but he knew he'd need the energy despite his lack of appetite … slowly, he unwrapped it, then laid it aside after the first couple of bites and took out his cell phone. Tommy answered after the third ring.
"Oliver-Scott residence."
"Hi, Tommy."
"Jase! Are you okay, Bro? How's your mom?"
Jason smiled at the genuine concern in Tommy's voice. In the background, he could hear men unpacking and setting up construction equipment, the sounds familiar since his childhood.
"I'm okay, and Mom's hanging in there - it's serious, but she's in no immediate danger, her doctor told me." Quickly, he summarized the conversation he'd had with the oncologist.
"Whew. That's good to hear."
"Yeah."
"So are you with her right now?"
"No," Jason replied. "There's too much electronic equipment in her room, monitoring mom; I couldn't use my phone there. I'm outside."
"You didn't have to leave her just to call me," Tommy rebuked him gently. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but I could've waited." When Jason didn't comment, Tommy got a sinking feeling in his stomach. There was only one reason he could imagine. "Why did you go outside, Bro?"
Jason sighed deeply, confirming Tommy's suspicion. "Dad came," he murmured at last.
"Don't tell me he dared kick you out!"
"N-no - not exactly, anyway. He … he just made it clear he didn't want me there. At least not as long as he was visiting." Jason tried his best not to sound despondent, but had a sinking feeling it wasn't working. Tommy's voice confirmed that as he replied.
"I'm sorry, Bro."
"Yeah, well, it's not as if I expected a big, happy reunion," Jason snorted in a vain attempt at lightness.
"But you were hoping for some kind of … softening in his attitude, didn't you?"
The question, full of warmth, understanding and compassion, nearly broke Jason. He had to swallow hard several times before he could speak again. "I … I guess. Maybe."
"God, Jase, I wish I could be there with you. At least I could-" Tommy was drowned out by a loud crash in the background, followed by the whine of a circular saw and some indistinct cursing. "Oh shit, I think something's gone wrong. I gotta go - but call me back as soon as you know more, okay? No matter what time; I'll keep the cell around all day."
"Will do. And Tommy?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. I wouldn't know what I'd do without you," Jason murmured.
"Anytime, Bro. I love you."
"Love you, too." For the first time in hours, Jason found a small smile, even though there was no-one to see. "Talk to you later."
"Right. Bye."
"Bye." With a sigh, he cut the connection and clipped the phone back onto his belt. His coffee was lukewarm by now, and Jason grimaced as he took a sip. But he was feeling too drained to go back inside for another - and the sandwich would go down easier with some liquid. Leaning back, finding his appetite return gradually as he ate slowly, Jason lost himself in thought.
He had no idea how much time had passed, but the sun had risen considerably in the clear sky when he saw his father leave the hospital and walk across the parking lot towards his car. As soon as the familiar truck had driven off, Jason quickly made his way back to his mother, to leave her side only when the nurses asked him to - and when his father returned after work. Back at his hotel, he looked up a pizza delivery service and ordered, updating Tommy while he waited. He ate without appetite, then spent a long, anxious night alone in the dark room.
***
The next two days were a repeat of Monday, only interspersed by a lengthier talk with Helen's physician.
Jason was beginning to wonder if he'd ever feel less tight and worried as he made his way back to the oncology ward on Thursday morning. He resumed his by now customary position at his mother's side, holding her hand and murmuring softly to her whenever she seemed slightly more alert. His father came at the usual time and sighing inwardly, Jason prepared to leave, but to his surprise John was immediately followed by the doctor and a nurse.
"Good, you're both here," Dr. Gonzales said briskly. "I need to talk to you together."
Jason slowly stood, glancing covertly at his father, but he showed no reaction. *Well … at least he's not throwing me out! That's something, I guess.* So he waited for the doctor's explanation with barely concealed impatience.
It wasn't long in coming. After consulting the patient chart, the white-haired physician began to speak. "As you know, Helen is having a particularly violent reaction to the medication; it is helping her as far as the cancer is concerned, but we have to get the other symptoms under control, and soon. She's dehydrating faster than we can make up for the lack of fluids, and what the vomiting and resultant cramps are doing to her heart and her stomach lining … well, the less said about that, the better." He drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but it could be the cure instead of the disease that'll kill her."
Both father and son blanched at the blunt statement. "I'm sorry," the doctor said. "I don't mean to be unfeeling, but we have no more time to skirt around the issue. If we don't do something now, today, we are going to lose her - and I want that as little as you do."
Glancing quickly at his father, Jason waited a second or two whether he would give voice to what was undoubtedly foremost on both their minds now. When John just continued to stare at Helen, he decided it might as well be him who asked that all-important question. "Is … is there something you can do?" The words came out all rough and hoarse, nearly sticking in his throat. He caught his breath when the older man nodded.
"Actually, yes. I've consulted with my colleagues, and we are in agreement that what we need to do is change the ratio of the chemicals we're giving her. As you know, it's a combination of several drugs; I'm not going to bombard you with details, but basically we'll cut down on some things, increase a few others. We'll also stop radiation for now, and increase the dosage later when we can resume. It'll likely cause her hair to fall out rapidly-"
"You think I care about that?" John snapped, finally joining the conversation.
The doctor smiled briefly. "No. But to continue - if it works, most other side effects will subside, namely the ones causing all the problems."
"So why haven't you done so already?" Jason wanted to know.
"Because it's a somewhat radical solution, not done very often. Plus, it's risky - very risky. But I'm fairly confident that it'll do the trick. If not …" He shrugged expressively. "Frankly, we've run out of options - and time. Either we do it now, or give up."
"No," John grated, balling his fists.
"You can't do that," Jason protested, their words overlapping.
"I'm not going to," Gonzales replied, looking from one man to the other. "I take it I have your consent, then?"
"Yeah … yeah," Jason murmured, feeling himself tense with sudden fear as he fought not to sway on unsteady feet. "Just save my mother. Whatever it takes."
"Get on with it," John Scott concurred.
"Right. Both of you need to sign the consent form, then." Holding out a pen and clipboard, the doctor waited until first John, then Jason had scrawled their signatures. "Okay, good. We'll start the new regimen right away. Are you both going to stay?"
Jason opened his mouth to say that of course he would, but was stopped short by his father's rough voice.
"I want to be alone with my wife."
It took every ounce of hard-earned control Jason possessed not to flinch as if struck.
*No! I need to stay, too!* Next came a thought that was almost as unbearable as John's initial rejection of him from four years ago. *Does Dad hate me so much for following my heart that he can't even stand to see me at Mom's side when she might … might die?*
With difficulty, Jason swallowed his instinctive protest. *Sure looks like it.* It hurt. More than he'd expected, but there was nothing he could do. He knew that protesting would be futile; no matter how much he wanted to stay, a husband's wish superseded the needs of a son. And this was neither the time nor the place to cause a scene; the important thing was to save Helen, if humanly possible. Suppressing a shudder and a sigh, Jason nodded once in mute acquiescence, carefully avoiding to look at his father. If he did, he might break down and start to beg - and he still had some pride left.
*Not everything is lost yet … and I won't give Dad the satisfaction to show how much he's managed to get under my skin. If this was good-bye, it'd be different, but as long as there's still hope … I'll find another way to be there for Mom. Somehow. At least in spirit.*
"Sure. If you'll follow me, then - you can wait outside, if you want," the doctor said to Jason, gesturing towards the nurse to escort him outside.
Jason ignored him momentarily. He'd be damned if he didn't at least tell his mother he loved her one last time! Stepping towards the bed, he bent to kiss the clammy forehead. "Hang in there, Mom. I'll be back as soon as I can," he murmured softly. "I love you." Only then did he reluctantly give in to the nurse's slight tug on his arm, allowing himself to be led into the hallway and stand outside the now-closed door.
At a sudden loss for what to do, he turned away at last and left the ward. With heavy steps Jason walked slowly outside to 'his' bench in the small park, sank down wearily, buried his face in his hands and tried to pray.
***
He had no idea how long he sat there, his mind numb with dread and uncertainty, when the crunch of approaching footsteps on the graveled path and a familiar voice speaking his name caused him at last to lift his head. It took a moment to recognize the figure who had stopped only a few feet before him, and he stared incredulously into a well-known face he hadn't at all expected to see.
"Rocky? Is that you?"
"In living color," his old friend grinned. "Just no longer red or blue. Hello, Jason."
"What are you doing here?"
"I was going to ask you the same question," Rocky said easily, sitting down beside him after asking and being granted permission with a slight gesture. "My great-uncle Felipe broke his hip last week; I'm visiting him on my way back from a short visit to my folks. What brings you here, though? To Angel Grove, I mean?"
"Family emergency," Jason shrugged in an effort to ward off too-intrusive questions.
"Nothing serious, I hope? Something wrong with Tommy?" *Unlikely, though; he'd be in a hospital closer to Reefside.* When no answer was forthcoming, Rocky felt a small alarm bell go off in his mind. It wasn't like Jason to be so uncommunicative. "Are you okay?"
Jason looked away. He was sorely tempted to say yes, but couldn't bring himself to utter the blatant lie. 'Okay' was light-years removed from the way he felt, and he was sure even an idiot - which Rocky certainly wasn't - could see that. "Not really," he mumbled at last.
"Why, what's wrong?" It had to be someone close to Jason who was the patient, then - and whoever it was had to be very sick; it was the only reason Rocky could think of that would bring such a haunted look to Jason's face.
"No, he's fine … at home, actually," Jason replied slowly, forcing himself to respond. He really wasn't in the mood for conversation, but he also couldn't rebuff his friend's obvious concern. "It … it's my mother," he explained reluctantly. "She's getting chemo and radiation therapy after cancer."
The terse words told their own story, and Rocky was experienced enough to fill in the obvious blanks. His brown eyes filled with compassion and he put a comforting hand on Jason's shoulder. "I'm sorry, man. I take it she's not doing well?"
Jason just shrugged. It was all the confirmation Rock needed.
"Want to talk about it?" he offered gently.
*No, I don't.* Jason barely checked what would've been a very rude refusal. He didn't want to share his burden on anyone except Tommy, who he knew would understand and try to soothe his anguish, but a glimpse of the cross-shaped pin Rocky wore on his shirt collar made him pause. Rocky was a priest; if he wasn't used or qualified to listen, who was? At last, the need to talk to someone, anyone sympathetic overrode Jason's desire to hide his pain. Haltingly, he began to speak.
"She had a bad tumor; they removed it a while ago, but now she's reacting very badly to the chemo. Her doctor is changing the treatment right now; if that doesn't work … she may well die."
"God, Jason, I am sorry," Rocky repeated. Cancer and follow-up therapies could ravage victims as well as their families, as hard-won experience had shown him. He'd counseled strangers in this kind of situation before, but somehow, now, when it was a friend who needed comfort, he didn't know what to say. Rocky had a brief flash of memory of how cheerfully Helen Scott had always welcomed the gang at their home. To think of the vital, friendly woman as seriously ill, wasted both from disease and the necessary treatment was acutely painful even to him and made all the usual phrases meant to comfort sound trite or empty. Then he began to wonder why Jason was out here, alone, instead of sitting with his mother. He'd always thought that Jason's innate compassion and loyalty to the people he loved would make it impossible for him to stay apart from someone in need, even if all he could do was offer his presence, but …
Rocky sent up a quick, silent prayer to let him find the right words. "What are you doing out here, though? Don't you want to be close to your mother?" he asked cautiously, and was surprised to hear his friend snort with a bitterness Jason couldn't quite mask.
"My father is with her. He … he doesn't want me there."
"What? Why?" *Surely Mr. Scott knows Jase is strong enough to support his family in their time of need? His mother as well as his father? After all, he's a grown man, not a child that needs protection …*
Jason drew a deep, shuddering breath and slowly straightened, leaning back against the bench's backrest. He looked sideways at Rocky. "Tommy and I promised four years ago not to talk to you about our relationship," he said quietly, avoiding a direct answer.
*Oh. It's about that. Shit.* The implications of the terse statement weren't lost on Rocky. Under the circumstances, it could only mean that Jason had had a fallout with his parents over his relationship with Tommy - another man. It was a situation the young priest had been forced to deal with more than once in recent years, and he knew how hard it generally was on everybody it happened to, especially in a crisis like this. *Even more so to someone who feels and cares deeply, like Jason.* Four years ago, Rocky would've said that Jason only had himself to blame for the choices he'd made, but passing time had changed many things.
"At the time I didn't really know how to handle what you told me," he said, embarrassed at how self-righteous he'd been in the heady excitement of his then-newfound vocation. "I hope I've learned a thing or two since then."
"What about your beliefs, your principles? Your faith?" Jason wondered, momentarily distracted by the apparent change in attitude.
"A lot of praying and counseling, for myself and of others, have taught me that some things will always be immutable, and rightly so. But some others aren't worth much if I can't put them aside to be there for a friend in need." He smiled slightly. "I'm not going to bother you with the details of my, um, spiritual journey since then; this is not the time or place. But back then I had a lot less experience of life, and people - human nature, if you will. I hadn't learned yet that just because someone doesn't believe or act exactly as I would do doesn't necessarily mean they're beyond redemption or unworthy of my compassion. I'd still prefer not to hear about any of those, ah, 'personal details', but I can lend you an ear now for anything else - if you want." Rocky squeezed the broad shoulder once. "I am still your friend, Jase. And I'm right here if you need me."
It wasn't the unstinting, unquestioning love and support Tommy would've offered him, but Jason realized that he did, in fact, need someone to unburden himself to. And to know that Rocky, the only one of their friends who had expressed reservations about them, was willing to listen and give whatever help he could was a ray of sunlight in the shadow these hellish days were under. Gratefully, he returned Rocky's smile.
"Well … you've probably guessed already that my folks don't approve of Tommy and me, right?" At Rocky's nod, Jason continued. "I don't want to rehash the whole sorry affair; that's over and done with. But if you really want to know what happened today … I could use someone to vent to."
"That's part of my job. And my privilege as a friend," Rocky replied simply and sincerely. "Vent away."
So Jason proceeded to do just that, pouring out all his anguish and fear. He knew that there was nothing Rocky, whether as a priest or friend, could realistically do, but it was cathartic just to be able to pour all of his jumbled emotions into a sympathetic listener's ear. He'd done the same each day during his phone calls with Tommy, but while he got a different kind of reaction from Rocky, it was better somehow to be able to talk without an electronic device pressed to his ear. Once it was apparent that Rocky didn't judge him, it became even easier to express at least part of his sorrow over his father's continuing rejection.
"And that's why I'm out here and not with Mom," Jason finished with a sigh. "I want nothing more than to be in there, even if it's just to hold her hand or be at her side, but …" He shrugged helplessly. "Dad's wishes supersede mine, as far as the hospital staff are concerned. There's nothing I can do."
"Unfortunately, neither can I," Rocky murmured, appalled. He honestly hadn't expected the depth of the rift that existed between his friend and his family.
"I know. Nobody can. But thanks anyway."
"For what?"
"For listening," Jason said with a weary smile. "I thought I didn't want to talk about to anyone, but … I guess I needed to, after all. It helps."
"Then I'm glad I could give you that much, at least," Rocky said simply. He shook his head ruminatively after briefly mulling over what he'd just heard. "For what it's worth, Jason … I think your father's wrong. I don't want to judge his attitude about your relationship with Tommy; that was your choice, and you have to live with the consequences. But no matter what issues he has over that, in my book he has no right to keep you away from your mother,. Nobody should interfere with the bond children have with their parents, or vice versa. That's plain wrong," he repeated.
"Yeah, well, I wish my father could see it like that."
There was nothing Rocky could think of to say to refute or contradict the quietly sad statement. Even though he'd been called to the priesthood only a relatively short time ago, he'd seen too much pain and misery caused by people's stubborn clinging to what they thought they wanted, only to regret things when it was too late, that he found it hard to feel compassion. Nor could he understand how anyone could reject their only child over something which, in the grand scheme of things, was neither harmful to anyone nor a crime. *And boy, how hard was it for me to learn that lesson!* Rocky deliberately shied away from the concept of 'sin'; he wasn't going to make the mistake again of applying his values to another person who didn't share all of them.
Both men sat silently for a few minutes, each lost in his own thoughts. At last, Rocky posed another question that had come to his mind.
"Would you still have come here if it was your father being sick instead of your mother?"
"I guess," Jason replied slowly. "Yeah … yes, I would've. Probably not as quickly - I might've needed to think about it some more, but … no matter what happened before, I don't think I could've stayed away. He's my father, and I care about him. If that makes me an idiot, or maybe just a glutton for punishment, so what?" he added wryly.
Rocky had expected nothing else. "I think it makes you a good man - a good son," he replied.
Surprised, Jason looked at his friend. Seeing the warmth and compassion in the brown eyes, so similar yet different to Tommy's, made him feel a little better - not much, but enough to find a genuine smile for the first time in what seemed like ages.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
***
Back in Reefside, Tommy was taking a coffee break from the noise the construction workers were making. Half the back wall of his house was now missing and had been secured by a semi-transparent tarp while the crew was digging out a hole for the new foundation and laying pipe work. Tommy lent a hand wherever he could, but while he'd become a deft hand with screwdrivers and welding irons while racing for his uncle, he found that knowing how to fix an engine was a far different thing than building work.
*Jase would've been in his element, though. He's worked in John's business all the time during school breaks, and would know what to do without having to ask or being shown every little detail!*
Feeling frustrated and more than slightly useless, Tommy tried to work on his research, but even in the relative isolation of the Lair the inevitable sounds of people shouting at each other, hammering, sawing and whatnot was too much distraction. What was more, the whole morning he'd been uneasy and more than usually worried.
*It's gotta have to do with Jase.*
He only ever got this kind of feeling when something was wrong with his lover, because it had happened often enough in the past. Off the top of his head, Tommy could remember two instances that stood out - during the time the Gold Powers were starting to drain Jason's life force, or when he'd broken his wrist at work two years ago and Tommy had found his concentration abruptly disturbed in the middle of class. Jason admitted to having similar experiences, beginning from the time when Zedd had started targeting Tommy's Powers.
Today, Tommy was reasonably sure that Jason was physically safe in Angel Grove - barring an accident on his way to and from the hospital, or possibly a mugging - but the same most likely couldn't be said about his mental condition.
*What if something bad has happened to Helen?* In that case, Jason would most definitely be severely distressed. *He'd call me, though. Wouldn't he?*
Unless … unless he was too caught up in grief or something, assuming a worst-case scenario. Tommy eyed the phone on his desk consideringly. Should he call Jason and make sure he was alright, as much as he was likely to be given the circumstances? He checked his watch. Barely noon; if Jason stuck to the schedule they'd established since Monday, it would be several hours yet before he phoned home.
*To hell with it.* The nagging feeling wasn't going away, and Tommy was too antsy to wait until early evening. Hoping he'd get a connection or wouldn't interrupt anything, he picked up the receiver and dialed Jason's cell phone. *Even if it's just to hear him say he's fine and will call back later!*
***
"Isn't that your father?" Rocky asked, pointing discreetly towards the parking lot. Jason looked up and saw the stocky, grey-haired man slowly cross the tarmac towards the truck with its 'Scott Construction' logo, then drive off.
"Yeah. Which means I can now go back inside." He got up from the bench and stretched, taking a couple of eager steps before belatedly remembering he had company. Giving Rocky a sheepish smile, he rubbed his hand along his chin. "Um, sorry. Didn't mean to run out on you like that. It's not that I don't like talking with you, and I really appreciate you taking the time to listen, but …"
"But you need to be with your mother. Don't worry, Jason, I understand," Rocky smiled back, standing as well. "I really ought to get back, too; I was just going to buy some newspapers, and Uncle Felipe will be wondering by now whether I had to print 'em myself."
"Sorry to have kept you."
"Hey, no biggie. Come on, I'll walk with you to the lobby."
Together, the two former Rangers made their way back to the hospital entrance. They had almost reached the front steps when Jason's phone rang.
"Excuse me a sec."
"Sure," Rocky replied easily. He noted that Jason's expression immediately softened as he flipped open his cell and recognized the number on the display, and correctly surmised the caller's identity.
"Yes, Tommy?"
"How's it going, Bro?"
"Okay, I hope," Jason sighed, losing his smile as he turned slightly away from Rocky with an apologetic shrug. "Mom's doctor is suspending radiation for now and changed her medication earlier this morning; if that works, she should hopefully improve soon. If not …"
"Don't even think it, Jase," Tommy interrupted him gently but firmly. *No wonder I was getting bad vibes from him!*
"I'm trying not to." Drawing a deep breath, Jason sent a glance towards Rocky who was waiting patiently a few steps ahead, giving him privacy to talk with Tommy. "Listen, Dad just left; I'm on my way back in. Was anything the matter, or can I call you back tonight as usual?"
"No, everything's going fine here. I just had a weird feeling all morning."
A slight smile curved Jason's lips as he read the deeper meaning behind his lover's words. "I see. Actually, I would have needed you if I hadn't found a good substitute."
"A what?"
"I met … an old friend. And I'll tell you everything tonight, promise."
"Meaning you're letting me die of curiosity all day, huh?" Tommy grumbled, then added, "Never mind, I'll live. Go see your Mom, and we'll talk later."
"Right. Bye." Jason hesitated briefly, then lowered his voice. "Thanks for caring."
"Always. Love you, Bro. Bye." Before he was tempted to prolong the call, Tommy killed the connection and went back to his work, trying to stop worrying despite his lover's reassurances.
Jason clipped his cell phone back onto his belt, meeting Rocky's indulgent look with a somewhat sheepish shrug.
"That was Tommy," he explained unnecessarily. "He's, um, being his usual overprotective self."
"Like you're any different?" Rocky murmured with a smile. Jason had the grace to blush, and the smile widened into a grin. "Really, I figured as much. You guys always were protective about people you care about. Shoot, even back in high school you always seemed to know when the other needed help - of any kind. That radar kind of thing between the two of you is still going strong, huh? "
"It never stopped working," Jason confirmed. "But since I can't have Tommy with me, it was great that you were here. I don't know how I could've stood waiting all morning without having a friend around. Thanks." He held out his hand, and Rocky grasped it without hesitation.
"As I said earlier, Jason - my privilege, and my pleasure. I hope all goes well with your mother."
"Thanks. Your uncle, too."
After a few more words, the friends parted, each going to look after their respective relatives.
***
Jason found his mother resting much more quietly than the previous days, which was a relief in and of itself. It had hurt seeing her squirm and retch with frequent spasms, and listening to her weak moans had been torture. Now he sat quietly by her side, holding her too-cool hand in his much larger, warm ones as he kept silent watch. Nurses went in and out of her room at infrequent intervals, checking the monitors, IV drips and whatnot, but they paid him no heed for the most part, only gently shooing him out when they needed to change Helen's hospital gown and catheter. Jason took the opportunity for a quick bathroom stop and to get a sandwich from the cafeteria, then returned to room 341 to resume his vigil.
Afternoon was half-gone, and with a small sigh Jason realized that he would have to leave soon; his father would return right after work, like he did every day. Lifting the limp fingers, he kissed the back of Helen's hand, then fitted her palm against his cheek. "It's gonna be okay, Mom," he murmured the mantra he'd repeated all day in his mind. "You'll get well soon … you have to!"
He closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensation of a touch his mother had so often given him as a child. Thus, he didn't notice that the woman lying so still against the pale yellow hospital pillow slowly opened her blue eyes.
Helen Scott needed a couple of minutes to orient herself as she emerged from a haze of pain and semi-consciousness; she knew she was in hospital, that she was very sick, but she didn't at first recognize the dark head or the feel of beard-roughened skin against her hand. The man looked familiar, but it took her a while to realize that it wasn't her husband's more grizzled head bent over her. When recognition set in at last, her heart started to beat faster, setting off one of the monitors.
"J-jason?" she murmured, her voice hoarse from lengthy disuse.
Jason's eyes snapped open as he heard his name spoken faintly even through the increased beeps of some medical contraption. "Mom?" he breathed incredulously, hardly daring to believe what his senses told him. Before he could say or do anything, he found himself momentarily pushed aside as a nurse bustled in, checked his mother's vital signs and reset the monitors.
"Good, you're awake," she said cheerily to her patient as she smoothed the bedclothes. "Dr. Gonzales will check on you shortly; is there anything I can do for you?"
"Thirsty," Helen managed after several tries.
"Right." Deftly, the nurse half-filled a cup with fresh water and held it to Helen's parched lips after topping it with a spouted lid. "Just a few sips for now," she cautioned. "I know you want more, but we'll have to see whether it'll stay down. If it does, you can have more in half an hour." Giving an encouraging nod to Jason, she returned to her duty station to inform the attending physician.
Jason hadn't been able to tear his eyes away from his mother's face - and except for the few moments when the nurse had blocked the view, Helen had stared right back at him, too. Resting once more against her pillow, she reached out to her son with a trembling hand.
"Jason … you're here," she whispered.
"Yes, Mom," he murmured back, nearly overcome with relief as he resumed his seat and once more grasped her hand.
"Thought … was dreaming …"
"No, you weren't," Jason reassured her. "I've been here since Monday, only you were too sick to know."
"Wha … what day …"
"Thursday afternoon," Jason replied gently. "Dad's still at work, but he'll be by soon. He's gonna be so relieved you're better!"
"Yes … John …" Helen sighed, a shadow crossing her exhausted face. Now that she was slowly regaining awareness of things beyond her physical misery, she unfortunately remembered the state of affairs between her husband and son - although she felt the stirring of a faint hope that maybe, just maybe they might have reconnected over her illness.
That hope was dispelled, however, when the door to her room opened minutes later and John Scott all but rushed in. "Helen?" he rasped from the doorway.
"Yes, dear," she smiled, but gasped in dismay when Jason immediately released her hand, stood and bent to kiss her brow.
"I'll be back tomorrow, Mom," he murmured. "Sleep well." Then, he left with a last smile and nary a glance at his father. John just stepped aside to make way for him.
Helen desperately wanted to call out, to hold her son back as she helplessly watched Jason's broad shoulders disappear through the door, but was distracted by her husband's broad, relieved smile as he rushed to her side and began to tell her how worried he'd been - and how glad that she was, to all appearances, doing much better. Sighing, she focused her attention on John until exhaustion overcame her soon after her doctor's visit. Helen fell asleep watched anxiously by her husband, her last waking thought the hope that her son would keep his promise and come back the next day.
That night's phone call to Reefside was much longer as Jason filled Tommy in on all that had happened during the day, sharing his relief and delight. Afterwards he decided to go out and have a proper meal for the first time in days. Feeling pleasantly full and mellow, he returned to his room and went to bed, reflecting that no restaurant food, however well prepared, could compare to the pleasure much simpler fare with Tommy gave him - simply because he'd be in the company of the man he loved.
*Soon … soon I'll be back home. And with Mom apparently on the mend, everything is gonna be okay again …*
Soaking up the peace that hope gave him, he fell asleep at last.
***
On Friday, Jason arrived at the hospital later than usual; he'd slept in for once, and found his father's truck already in the parking lot. Sighing, he considered briefly to wait on 'his' bench, then decided against it and spent a couple of hours in Angel Grove Park instead, revisiting places he and Tommy had spent most of their time at during their youth. The mild exercise was also a welcome break from days of sitting hunched over in uncomfortable chairs, and he was feeling better for it when he returned towards mid-morning.
Helen was awake and waiting for him as he entered the sunny room; a lot of medical equipment had been removed by now, making the surroundings much more cheerful.
"Hi, Mom," Jason smiled, depositing a small bouquet he'd bought on the way on her nightstand. "How do you feel?"
"Lousy," Helen grumbled, then softened the statement with a smile of her own as she held out both hands to her son. She no longer looked wasted, and her voice was much stronger, even though she still spoke haltingly, pausing often to rest her diaphragm lest the spasms start again. "What do you expect? They're frying me with radiation and pumping me full of drugs. And I don't even get to get high from all that stuff, just nauseous!"
Jason grinned; he knew too well that his own offbeat sense of humor was directly inherited.
"If you did get high, I'd have to start calling you Junkie Mom," he teased.
"Don't you dare, Jason Lee! You may think you're all grown up, but you're not too old for me to spank you once I'm out of this place. - Oh Jason, I'm so glad you're here," she whispered, her mood shifting suddenly from spunky to tearful. "I missed you so, baby!"
"I miss you, too, Mom," Jason replied quietly.
Helen almost blurted out 'why don't you come home, then?', but she managed to swallow the question just in time. The dark, expressive eyes held longing that seemed equal to hers, but she knew her son well enough to read the sadness and determination beneath. As long as John didn't relent, Jason wouldn't return to his parents' house. *Does he love Tommy more than us, then?*
That question, too, remained unspoken.
*We made him choose once already. I'm not risking losing him again now that he's back by putting him on the spot.*
So she just sighed and twined her fingers with her son's. Jason returned the pressure warmly, dusting another light kiss on the back of her hand. "So, any idea yet when they're gonna kick you out?"
Glad for the change to a safer topic, Helen smiled wryly. Talking was an effort, she was still damnably weak, but she gladly exerted herself for the chance to catch up on her son's life since he'd left Angel Grove. *Four years lost that we'll never get back,* she mourned silently even as she haltingly began to outline the treatment plan Dr. Gonzales had laid out earlier. From there, she deftly steered the conversation towards Jason's activities, listening avidly as he gave a detailed account of the challenges and rewards of his new job - including the award the students had presented him with a scant week ago.
"I haven't been this embarrassed since you made me wear that silly sailor suit to the Christmas party in second grade," Jason sighed comically. "It's a wonder Trini, Kim and Zack didn't disown me there and then. If Bulk and Skull hadn't gotten sick from all the cookies they'd snitched out of the kitchen and missed the hat at least, I'd never have heard the end of it until graduation!"
Helen smiled, both with pride at Jason's accomplishment and the memory. "But you looked so adorable!" When Jason mock-scowled at her, she hastily asked another question, genuinely interested. "What are Kim, Trini and the rest of your friends up to these days? Are you still in contact with them?"
"Sure. We all try and meet once a year; other than that, we call or email each other. Even better, sometimes the whole gang gets together online on holidays, in a chat room - it's a great way to keep in touch." Recounting his friends' whereabouts and doings took up another twenty minutes. At last, though, Helen's curiosity was sated and she shifted exhaustedly on her bed.
"Are you okay, Mom? Do you want a nurse?"
"No … no, just getting a little tired," she muttered petulantly after requesting some more water which Jason solicitously gave her, then lowered the headrest. Why couldn't she stay awake now, when she was finally reunited with her only child? She didn't want to miss a single minute of his company! "I don't want to sleep!"
"Why don't you just close your eyes and rest a little?" Jason suggested. "I'll stay."
"Would you? Really?"
"Of course." Adjusting the hospital chair so that he could lean back, stretch out his legs and still hold his mother's hand, Jason tilted his head and grinned. "See? All set. Now be a good mom and sleep."
"Hmph." Too tired to argue, secretly glad for the care and understanding, Helen obediently closed her eyes. However, sleep wouldn't come; she was too busy digesting all the things Jason had told her. He might not have chosen a very glamorous career, but he was definitely as popular and successful in Reefside as he'd been in Angel Grove. She inwardly glowed with pride over her son's accomplishments, contemplating ways how she could boast - *just a little bit, anyway!* - to her friends until something that had been niggling at the back of her mind all the while crept to the fore. *Jason has said a lot about his students, his colleagues, his friends - but nothing about his life. The one thing he hasn't mentioned at all is his relationship with Tommy.* Helen knew she really shouldn't be surprised; after all, that was the reason why she'd all but lost her son, but as his mother she also couldn't help but wonder … and worry. Slowly, she dragged heavy lids open again and watched Jason as he sat by her side, apparently lost in his own thoughts.
The handsome face was relaxed, and he was looking well, but appearances could be deceiving. Helen started to debate with herself whether she should disturb the fragile peace between them with intrusive questions, but before she could come to a decision Jason turned his head and noticed her eyes on him.
"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?" he chided gently as he straightened from his comfortable slouch.
"I can sleep later," Helen murmured. Throwing caution to the wind, she gripped the hand still holding hers as firmly as she could and asked the one thing she desperately wanted, no, needed to know.
"Jason?"
"Yes, Mom?"
"Are … are you happy?"
Jason answered without a moment's hesitation.
"Yes. Very much."
Helen searched the dark eyes for any sign that Jason might be … well, not lying, but perhaps sugar-coating things for her benefit, but they were clear and truthful. Even the low voice didn't display any doubt whatsoever, and finally she relaxed, sighing as acceptance settled over her at last.
"That's … good."
"Mom, did you honestly think I would've made the choices I did if I hadn't been sure? If I didn't love Tommy, in all ways?" Jason queried, his expression turning serious. "Because I do - and always will. I told you as much four years ago," he reminded her.
His mother sighed again. "I guess at the time I was too shocked and upset to really hear you," she murmured. Then - "It's just … I had set my heart on having grandchildren one day," she confessed softly. It wasn't the whole reason, more an evasion, but Helen didn't feel up to discussing deeper issues now. Besides, it also happened to be true. "When we couldn't have more children after you were born … I'd hoped …" Embarrassed, she freed one hand and wiped her suddenly teary eyes.
For several seconds Jason hesitated, as if he was going to tell some long-held secret, but visibly stopped himself. "That's … not very likely," was all he'd say. "Sorry to disappoint you."
"You never disappointed me, honey." Helen summoned a rather watery smile, having a sudden idea that he might have fathered a child at one point. *If he had, he'd have either married the girl, or brought the baby home. He would never shirk such a responsibility.* "Well, except for depriving me of the big wedding I always wanted for you - and those grandbabies, of course."
"Sorry," Jason repeated and returned the smile. Still, Helen couldn't help the impression that a shadow veiled his eyes momentarily - then dismissed it as pure fancy, a frustrated grandmother's imagination.
"Don't be."
Jason intended to lighten the moment with a teasing remark; however, the door to Helen's room opened just then and John came in, his arms laden with flowers, balloons and magazines. His cheerful greeting to his wife died half-spoken when he saw Jason sitting by his mother's bedside, and like a bad smell an uncomfortable silence spread through the sun-lit room. Jason briefly closed his lids to hide the pang of pain that still caused him, then took leave of his softly-protesting mother.
"It's better this way, Mom. I'll see you again tomorrow."
John mutely stepped out of the way to free the door as his son approached, but looked determinedly aside, thus not even seeing the beseeching glance Jason sent him in passing. Then the door closed on the broad back and Helen, who had noticed, sadly let go of the breath she'd been holding.
*Will John ever permit himself to heal that rift he created?*
She didn't know - and right now, it seemed less likely than ever.
To Be Continued …
List of 22: 09, hallways and 15, peace
Title: More Than Friends And Brothers, Ch. 18: Homecoming, Pt. 2
Author: germankitty
Relationship: Jason/Tommy
Rating: this chapter PG, overall NC-17
Warning: none
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox, but the toys I'm borrowing are AWESOME!
Note: In response to the Live Journal PRSW22 challenge, themes #09, hallways and #15, peace
Note II: *groans* Another three-parter. Completely unplanned, but … I'd have to cut it up for posting anyway, so here you go. Sorry about the delay, but I was on vacation with no net access for over two weeks. *sigh*
Note III: Any medical mistakes are wholly mine; I've had to rely a good deal on online research - thanks, wikipedia! (And thank you, Julia, for bringing a detail to my attention that perhaps needed to be put into the story; hope I met your expectation!) Anyway, enjoy, and please pass by the feedback box on your way out?
More Than Friends And Brothers
Chapter 18: Homecoming, Pt.2
Early-morning traffic in downtown Angel Grove was as bad as Jason remembered as he navigated his car towards the hospital. He was approaching the turnoff when he had to stop at a traffic light and cast a cursory glance into the rearview mirror. He was mildly surprised by how scruffy and haggard he looked. Although, he shouldn't be; after all, he'd barely taken the time to shower and throw on fresh clothes before he left.
*I can't let Mom see me like this …*
Every instinct screamed at him to hurry, to go to his mother, but the need to concentrate on the road during the long drive, as much as Tommy's soothing, rational voice in his mind when he wished him a safe trip, had served to calm him down enough that Jason was able to drive by his hotel first. He couldn't do much about the dark circles under his eyes nor his anxious pallor, but there was time for freshening up and a perfunctory shave. Barely fifteen minutes after checking in Jason had called Tommy, gotten back in his car and was on the way to the hospital, a large coffee from a drive-by fast food place next to him. He didn't feel like eating, but at least the caffeine served to clear his mind as he sipped the hot beverage. Arriving at Angel Grove Memorial at last, he parked his car and strode towards the main entrance. The receptionist directed him to the oncology ward, and once there he waited with barely-concealed impatience until someone at the nurses' station found time to answer his questions.
"Yes, sir?"
"I'd like to see Mrs. Scott," he murmured. "She's a patient here."
The nurse on duty gave him a searching look. "I'm sorry, but visits to critical-care patients are for family only. It's hospital policy."
Jason blanched at the word 'critical'. "I'm her son," he said tightly, garnering a raised eyebrow.
"Can you prove that? I'd need more than just your driver's license."
Jason bit back a sharp reply, then reached for his wallet, sending a silent 'thank-you' back to Tommy in Reefside for suggesting he bring his birth certificate. He showed the document to the nurse. "Yeah, here."
She checked the data, then nodded, making a notation on a chart. "Very well. Room 341. Follow me, please; I'll take you."
"Thanks."
Just outside the room, Jason stopped the nurse. "How … how is she?" he asked hoarsely.
Compassionate blue eyes met haunted dark ones. "Hanging on. You'd better ask her doctor once his shift starts in an hour, but … don't be shocked when you see her. She's having a pretty extreme reaction to the chemo, unusually so, and what with the side effects … it's not pretty. I'm sorry."
"I don't care what she looks like. I just want to see her."
"Right. Just thought I'd warn you." The nurse started to open the door, then paused. "Oh, one more thing. She's drifting in and out of consciousness most of the time and her memory is a little addled; it's one of the side effects of the meds, and most likely temporary, so don't let it faze you, okay?"
"I'll try." *Oh God. Will Mom even recognize me?*
"Uh huh. Come on then. Dr. Gonzales will come round later." Entering the room, the nurse adopted a professionally-cheerful tone. "Good morning, Helen. I've brought you a visitor."
An unintelligible moan came from the bed, and Jason felt his stomach churn. He was able to see his mother over the nurse's shoulder, and he was glad that he had a wall to momentarily lean against - surely that pale, weak person in her vomit-stained hospital gown couldn't be the vital, lively woman he remembered? He had to swallow hard several times and barely heard the nurse's request to step into the hallway again for a minute. Numbly, he obeyed. Outside, he closed his eyes as he waited, his head bowed and his mind veering from blank to frantic and back again. Only when he was beckoned back into the room did he realize how much he'd needed those extra few minutes to regain at least a semblance of composure.
Helen Scott was dressed in a fresh gown when he finally got to her bedside; however, the nurse's small, kind effort to make her a little more presentable had had little effect. Jason found his mother's skin still grey and papery-looking, her hair was limp and she looked weak and wasted, having lost more weight than she could afford.
Gingerly, Jason sat down on a stool and picked up a fragile hand. "Hello, Mom," he murmured, automatically beginning to rub circles on the dry skin with his thumb. "I- it's me, Jason." He felt stupid identifying himself like this, but the blue eyes seemed to look through him.
"J-jason?" Helen stammered, then coughed weakly. Her whole body convulsed and heaved as nausea made her retch violently, as if even that single word had been too much. Alarmed, Jason grabbed a kidney-shaped metal bowl from the nightstand, but there was nothing left to come up. Finally, the spasm subsided and Helen sank back into the pillow with a low moan. "Hurts …"
"I'm so sorry, Mom," Jason whispered, lifting her hand and holding it to his cheek. "I wish there was something I could do."
He got no answer, just another moan as a second, lighter spasm shook the frail body. It killed him to see his mother, whom he only knew as energetic and full of laughter, like this, and the feeling of utter helplessness didn't fade when another nurse came in and quietly exchanged the bags of fluid hooked up to an IV stand. Jason had no idea what they contained, but he assumed that it was either nutrients or more of the drugs that made his mother ill. Part of him wanted to rip the needle out of her arm, to shout at the doctors and nurses to stop this torture, but another, sane, rational part of his mind told him sternly not to be an idiot. *If Mom doesn't get whatever they're giving her, she might die - either because the cancer can come back, or because she'll starve or dehydrate completely!*
With a weary sigh, Jason rested his arms on the bed's railing, pressing Helen's hand against his beginning-to-ache head. How long he sat there, he had no idea; whenever his mother murmured a few incoherent words or stirred, he tried talking to her in low, soothing tones, but except for the one time she'd said his name there was no sign that she recognized him or even knew he was with her. Outside of the quiet room, activity in the ward picked up; meals were brought to patients, trays removed, doctors and nurses bustled about and a few early visitors dropped in on relatives and friends. Jason couldn't care less; all his attention was focused on the sick woman lying before him. Only when the door to his mother's room opened and whoever entered with firm steps stopped right after crossing the threshold did he turn to look who had come.
Still gripping the door handle, his stocky frame silhouetted against the bright corridor lights, stood his father.
Slowly, Jason straightened. He knew he'd gone pale, but didn't care - he wasn't here to stir up trouble, he just wanted to be with his sick mother! It took considerable effort, but Jason managed to meet the dark eyes so like his own. Like the last time he'd looked into them, over four years ago, they were blank and shuttered … staring right through him. Inwardly, Jason sighed. He knew what the pinched lips meant - there was no softening in John Scott's attitude; there would be no reconciliation.
*I told myself I didn't expect anything from Dad. Looks like I've been lying to myself … I know now that deep down I had hoped …*
Clenching his teeth against the urge to force a reaction, any sign that he still existed for his father, Jason carefully released his mother's hand and stood. Determinedly ignoring the disapproval radiating across the room from the frozen older man, he bent and kissed his mother's forehead.
"Bye, Mom. You hang in there, you hear? I'll be back later."
When he approached the doorway, he tried to read his father's expression, but met only the same blank wall he'd been seeing since he'd revealed his relationship with Tommy. Mutely, John stepped aside and looked pointedly the other way, making it abundantly clear that he expected Jason to leave, now. Jason permitted himself a tiny, sad smile, nodded once and left, with just one anxious backward glance towards his mother. As soon as he had taken but two steps into the busy hallway, the door to room 341 clicked shut.
***
Talking to his mother's attending physician helped alleviate Jason's fear about her life to some degree; there were serious concerns, but it seemed her condition wasn't quite as hopeless as Rachel Oliver had made it sound. Jason didn't blame her; she'd told him that her information had come second-hand, and he was glad he'd made the trip. When all was said and done, he'd missed his mother too much, and seeing her again, being at her side when she needed support from all sides, was a Good Thing. Sighing, at a loss for what to do while his father was with Helen, he decided he might as well go outside and wait in the sunshine. Making a brief detour through the hospital public cafeteria, Jason bought a sandwich and some coffee, then took both outside to the small park behind the main building. He found a bench, sat down and had a first sip of coffee. The sandwich wasn't really appealing, but he knew he'd need the energy despite his lack of appetite … slowly, he unwrapped it, then laid it aside after the first couple of bites and took out his cell phone. Tommy answered after the third ring.
"Oliver-Scott residence."
"Hi, Tommy."
"Jase! Are you okay, Bro? How's your mom?"
Jason smiled at the genuine concern in Tommy's voice. In the background, he could hear men unpacking and setting up construction equipment, the sounds familiar since his childhood.
"I'm okay, and Mom's hanging in there - it's serious, but she's in no immediate danger, her doctor told me." Quickly, he summarized the conversation he'd had with the oncologist.
"Whew. That's good to hear."
"Yeah."
"So are you with her right now?"
"No," Jason replied. "There's too much electronic equipment in her room, monitoring mom; I couldn't use my phone there. I'm outside."
"You didn't have to leave her just to call me," Tommy rebuked him gently. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but I could've waited." When Jason didn't comment, Tommy got a sinking feeling in his stomach. There was only one reason he could imagine. "Why did you go outside, Bro?"
Jason sighed deeply, confirming Tommy's suspicion. "Dad came," he murmured at last.
"Don't tell me he dared kick you out!"
"N-no - not exactly, anyway. He … he just made it clear he didn't want me there. At least not as long as he was visiting." Jason tried his best not to sound despondent, but had a sinking feeling it wasn't working. Tommy's voice confirmed that as he replied.
"I'm sorry, Bro."
"Yeah, well, it's not as if I expected a big, happy reunion," Jason snorted in a vain attempt at lightness.
"But you were hoping for some kind of … softening in his attitude, didn't you?"
The question, full of warmth, understanding and compassion, nearly broke Jason. He had to swallow hard several times before he could speak again. "I … I guess. Maybe."
"God, Jase, I wish I could be there with you. At least I could-" Tommy was drowned out by a loud crash in the background, followed by the whine of a circular saw and some indistinct cursing. "Oh shit, I think something's gone wrong. I gotta go - but call me back as soon as you know more, okay? No matter what time; I'll keep the cell around all day."
"Will do. And Tommy?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. I wouldn't know what I'd do without you," Jason murmured.
"Anytime, Bro. I love you."
"Love you, too." For the first time in hours, Jason found a small smile, even though there was no-one to see. "Talk to you later."
"Right. Bye."
"Bye." With a sigh, he cut the connection and clipped the phone back onto his belt. His coffee was lukewarm by now, and Jason grimaced as he took a sip. But he was feeling too drained to go back inside for another - and the sandwich would go down easier with some liquid. Leaning back, finding his appetite return gradually as he ate slowly, Jason lost himself in thought.
He had no idea how much time had passed, but the sun had risen considerably in the clear sky when he saw his father leave the hospital and walk across the parking lot towards his car. As soon as the familiar truck had driven off, Jason quickly made his way back to his mother, to leave her side only when the nurses asked him to - and when his father returned after work. Back at his hotel, he looked up a pizza delivery service and ordered, updating Tommy while he waited. He ate without appetite, then spent a long, anxious night alone in the dark room.
***
The next two days were a repeat of Monday, only interspersed by a lengthier talk with Helen's physician.
Jason was beginning to wonder if he'd ever feel less tight and worried as he made his way back to the oncology ward on Thursday morning. He resumed his by now customary position at his mother's side, holding her hand and murmuring softly to her whenever she seemed slightly more alert. His father came at the usual time and sighing inwardly, Jason prepared to leave, but to his surprise John was immediately followed by the doctor and a nurse.
"Good, you're both here," Dr. Gonzales said briskly. "I need to talk to you together."
Jason slowly stood, glancing covertly at his father, but he showed no reaction. *Well … at least he's not throwing me out! That's something, I guess.* So he waited for the doctor's explanation with barely concealed impatience.
It wasn't long in coming. After consulting the patient chart, the white-haired physician began to speak. "As you know, Helen is having a particularly violent reaction to the medication; it is helping her as far as the cancer is concerned, but we have to get the other symptoms under control, and soon. She's dehydrating faster than we can make up for the lack of fluids, and what the vomiting and resultant cramps are doing to her heart and her stomach lining … well, the less said about that, the better." He drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but it could be the cure instead of the disease that'll kill her."
Both father and son blanched at the blunt statement. "I'm sorry," the doctor said. "I don't mean to be unfeeling, but we have no more time to skirt around the issue. If we don't do something now, today, we are going to lose her - and I want that as little as you do."
Glancing quickly at his father, Jason waited a second or two whether he would give voice to what was undoubtedly foremost on both their minds now. When John just continued to stare at Helen, he decided it might as well be him who asked that all-important question. "Is … is there something you can do?" The words came out all rough and hoarse, nearly sticking in his throat. He caught his breath when the older man nodded.
"Actually, yes. I've consulted with my colleagues, and we are in agreement that what we need to do is change the ratio of the chemicals we're giving her. As you know, it's a combination of several drugs; I'm not going to bombard you with details, but basically we'll cut down on some things, increase a few others. We'll also stop radiation for now, and increase the dosage later when we can resume. It'll likely cause her hair to fall out rapidly-"
"You think I care about that?" John snapped, finally joining the conversation.
The doctor smiled briefly. "No. But to continue - if it works, most other side effects will subside, namely the ones causing all the problems."
"So why haven't you done so already?" Jason wanted to know.
"Because it's a somewhat radical solution, not done very often. Plus, it's risky - very risky. But I'm fairly confident that it'll do the trick. If not …" He shrugged expressively. "Frankly, we've run out of options - and time. Either we do it now, or give up."
"No," John grated, balling his fists.
"You can't do that," Jason protested, their words overlapping.
"I'm not going to," Gonzales replied, looking from one man to the other. "I take it I have your consent, then?"
"Yeah … yeah," Jason murmured, feeling himself tense with sudden fear as he fought not to sway on unsteady feet. "Just save my mother. Whatever it takes."
"Get on with it," John Scott concurred.
"Right. Both of you need to sign the consent form, then." Holding out a pen and clipboard, the doctor waited until first John, then Jason had scrawled their signatures. "Okay, good. We'll start the new regimen right away. Are you both going to stay?"
Jason opened his mouth to say that of course he would, but was stopped short by his father's rough voice.
"I want to be alone with my wife."
It took every ounce of hard-earned control Jason possessed not to flinch as if struck.
*No! I need to stay, too!* Next came a thought that was almost as unbearable as John's initial rejection of him from four years ago. *Does Dad hate me so much for following my heart that he can't even stand to see me at Mom's side when she might … might die?*
With difficulty, Jason swallowed his instinctive protest. *Sure looks like it.* It hurt. More than he'd expected, but there was nothing he could do. He knew that protesting would be futile; no matter how much he wanted to stay, a husband's wish superseded the needs of a son. And this was neither the time nor the place to cause a scene; the important thing was to save Helen, if humanly possible. Suppressing a shudder and a sigh, Jason nodded once in mute acquiescence, carefully avoiding to look at his father. If he did, he might break down and start to beg - and he still had some pride left.
*Not everything is lost yet … and I won't give Dad the satisfaction to show how much he's managed to get under my skin. If this was good-bye, it'd be different, but as long as there's still hope … I'll find another way to be there for Mom. Somehow. At least in spirit.*
"Sure. If you'll follow me, then - you can wait outside, if you want," the doctor said to Jason, gesturing towards the nurse to escort him outside.
Jason ignored him momentarily. He'd be damned if he didn't at least tell his mother he loved her one last time! Stepping towards the bed, he bent to kiss the clammy forehead. "Hang in there, Mom. I'll be back as soon as I can," he murmured softly. "I love you." Only then did he reluctantly give in to the nurse's slight tug on his arm, allowing himself to be led into the hallway and stand outside the now-closed door.
At a sudden loss for what to do, he turned away at last and left the ward. With heavy steps Jason walked slowly outside to 'his' bench in the small park, sank down wearily, buried his face in his hands and tried to pray.
***
He had no idea how long he sat there, his mind numb with dread and uncertainty, when the crunch of approaching footsteps on the graveled path and a familiar voice speaking his name caused him at last to lift his head. It took a moment to recognize the figure who had stopped only a few feet before him, and he stared incredulously into a well-known face he hadn't at all expected to see.
"Rocky? Is that you?"
"In living color," his old friend grinned. "Just no longer red or blue. Hello, Jason."
"What are you doing here?"
"I was going to ask you the same question," Rocky said easily, sitting down beside him after asking and being granted permission with a slight gesture. "My great-uncle Felipe broke his hip last week; I'm visiting him on my way back from a short visit to my folks. What brings you here, though? To Angel Grove, I mean?"
"Family emergency," Jason shrugged in an effort to ward off too-intrusive questions.
"Nothing serious, I hope? Something wrong with Tommy?" *Unlikely, though; he'd be in a hospital closer to Reefside.* When no answer was forthcoming, Rocky felt a small alarm bell go off in his mind. It wasn't like Jason to be so uncommunicative. "Are you okay?"
Jason looked away. He was sorely tempted to say yes, but couldn't bring himself to utter the blatant lie. 'Okay' was light-years removed from the way he felt, and he was sure even an idiot - which Rocky certainly wasn't - could see that. "Not really," he mumbled at last.
"Why, what's wrong?" It had to be someone close to Jason who was the patient, then - and whoever it was had to be very sick; it was the only reason Rocky could think of that would bring such a haunted look to Jason's face.
"No, he's fine … at home, actually," Jason replied slowly, forcing himself to respond. He really wasn't in the mood for conversation, but he also couldn't rebuff his friend's obvious concern. "It … it's my mother," he explained reluctantly. "She's getting chemo and radiation therapy after cancer."
The terse words told their own story, and Rocky was experienced enough to fill in the obvious blanks. His brown eyes filled with compassion and he put a comforting hand on Jason's shoulder. "I'm sorry, man. I take it she's not doing well?"
Jason just shrugged. It was all the confirmation Rock needed.
"Want to talk about it?" he offered gently.
*No, I don't.* Jason barely checked what would've been a very rude refusal. He didn't want to share his burden on anyone except Tommy, who he knew would understand and try to soothe his anguish, but a glimpse of the cross-shaped pin Rocky wore on his shirt collar made him pause. Rocky was a priest; if he wasn't used or qualified to listen, who was? At last, the need to talk to someone, anyone sympathetic overrode Jason's desire to hide his pain. Haltingly, he began to speak.
"She had a bad tumor; they removed it a while ago, but now she's reacting very badly to the chemo. Her doctor is changing the treatment right now; if that doesn't work … she may well die."
"God, Jason, I am sorry," Rocky repeated. Cancer and follow-up therapies could ravage victims as well as their families, as hard-won experience had shown him. He'd counseled strangers in this kind of situation before, but somehow, now, when it was a friend who needed comfort, he didn't know what to say. Rocky had a brief flash of memory of how cheerfully Helen Scott had always welcomed the gang at their home. To think of the vital, friendly woman as seriously ill, wasted both from disease and the necessary treatment was acutely painful even to him and made all the usual phrases meant to comfort sound trite or empty. Then he began to wonder why Jason was out here, alone, instead of sitting with his mother. He'd always thought that Jason's innate compassion and loyalty to the people he loved would make it impossible for him to stay apart from someone in need, even if all he could do was offer his presence, but …
Rocky sent up a quick, silent prayer to let him find the right words. "What are you doing out here, though? Don't you want to be close to your mother?" he asked cautiously, and was surprised to hear his friend snort with a bitterness Jason couldn't quite mask.
"My father is with her. He … he doesn't want me there."
"What? Why?" *Surely Mr. Scott knows Jase is strong enough to support his family in their time of need? His mother as well as his father? After all, he's a grown man, not a child that needs protection …*
Jason drew a deep, shuddering breath and slowly straightened, leaning back against the bench's backrest. He looked sideways at Rocky. "Tommy and I promised four years ago not to talk to you about our relationship," he said quietly, avoiding a direct answer.
*Oh. It's about that. Shit.* The implications of the terse statement weren't lost on Rocky. Under the circumstances, it could only mean that Jason had had a fallout with his parents over his relationship with Tommy - another man. It was a situation the young priest had been forced to deal with more than once in recent years, and he knew how hard it generally was on everybody it happened to, especially in a crisis like this. *Even more so to someone who feels and cares deeply, like Jason.* Four years ago, Rocky would've said that Jason only had himself to blame for the choices he'd made, but passing time had changed many things.
"At the time I didn't really know how to handle what you told me," he said, embarrassed at how self-righteous he'd been in the heady excitement of his then-newfound vocation. "I hope I've learned a thing or two since then."
"What about your beliefs, your principles? Your faith?" Jason wondered, momentarily distracted by the apparent change in attitude.
"A lot of praying and counseling, for myself and of others, have taught me that some things will always be immutable, and rightly so. But some others aren't worth much if I can't put them aside to be there for a friend in need." He smiled slightly. "I'm not going to bother you with the details of my, um, spiritual journey since then; this is not the time or place. But back then I had a lot less experience of life, and people - human nature, if you will. I hadn't learned yet that just because someone doesn't believe or act exactly as I would do doesn't necessarily mean they're beyond redemption or unworthy of my compassion. I'd still prefer not to hear about any of those, ah, 'personal details', but I can lend you an ear now for anything else - if you want." Rocky squeezed the broad shoulder once. "I am still your friend, Jase. And I'm right here if you need me."
It wasn't the unstinting, unquestioning love and support Tommy would've offered him, but Jason realized that he did, in fact, need someone to unburden himself to. And to know that Rocky, the only one of their friends who had expressed reservations about them, was willing to listen and give whatever help he could was a ray of sunlight in the shadow these hellish days were under. Gratefully, he returned Rocky's smile.
"Well … you've probably guessed already that my folks don't approve of Tommy and me, right?" At Rocky's nod, Jason continued. "I don't want to rehash the whole sorry affair; that's over and done with. But if you really want to know what happened today … I could use someone to vent to."
"That's part of my job. And my privilege as a friend," Rocky replied simply and sincerely. "Vent away."
So Jason proceeded to do just that, pouring out all his anguish and fear. He knew that there was nothing Rocky, whether as a priest or friend, could realistically do, but it was cathartic just to be able to pour all of his jumbled emotions into a sympathetic listener's ear. He'd done the same each day during his phone calls with Tommy, but while he got a different kind of reaction from Rocky, it was better somehow to be able to talk without an electronic device pressed to his ear. Once it was apparent that Rocky didn't judge him, it became even easier to express at least part of his sorrow over his father's continuing rejection.
"And that's why I'm out here and not with Mom," Jason finished with a sigh. "I want nothing more than to be in there, even if it's just to hold her hand or be at her side, but …" He shrugged helplessly. "Dad's wishes supersede mine, as far as the hospital staff are concerned. There's nothing I can do."
"Unfortunately, neither can I," Rocky murmured, appalled. He honestly hadn't expected the depth of the rift that existed between his friend and his family.
"I know. Nobody can. But thanks anyway."
"For what?"
"For listening," Jason said with a weary smile. "I thought I didn't want to talk about to anyone, but … I guess I needed to, after all. It helps."
"Then I'm glad I could give you that much, at least," Rocky said simply. He shook his head ruminatively after briefly mulling over what he'd just heard. "For what it's worth, Jason … I think your father's wrong. I don't want to judge his attitude about your relationship with Tommy; that was your choice, and you have to live with the consequences. But no matter what issues he has over that, in my book he has no right to keep you away from your mother,. Nobody should interfere with the bond children have with their parents, or vice versa. That's plain wrong," he repeated.
"Yeah, well, I wish my father could see it like that."
There was nothing Rocky could think of to say to refute or contradict the quietly sad statement. Even though he'd been called to the priesthood only a relatively short time ago, he'd seen too much pain and misery caused by people's stubborn clinging to what they thought they wanted, only to regret things when it was too late, that he found it hard to feel compassion. Nor could he understand how anyone could reject their only child over something which, in the grand scheme of things, was neither harmful to anyone nor a crime. *And boy, how hard was it for me to learn that lesson!* Rocky deliberately shied away from the concept of 'sin'; he wasn't going to make the mistake again of applying his values to another person who didn't share all of them.
Both men sat silently for a few minutes, each lost in his own thoughts. At last, Rocky posed another question that had come to his mind.
"Would you still have come here if it was your father being sick instead of your mother?"
"I guess," Jason replied slowly. "Yeah … yes, I would've. Probably not as quickly - I might've needed to think about it some more, but … no matter what happened before, I don't think I could've stayed away. He's my father, and I care about him. If that makes me an idiot, or maybe just a glutton for punishment, so what?" he added wryly.
Rocky had expected nothing else. "I think it makes you a good man - a good son," he replied.
Surprised, Jason looked at his friend. Seeing the warmth and compassion in the brown eyes, so similar yet different to Tommy's, made him feel a little better - not much, but enough to find a genuine smile for the first time in what seemed like ages.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
***
Back in Reefside, Tommy was taking a coffee break from the noise the construction workers were making. Half the back wall of his house was now missing and had been secured by a semi-transparent tarp while the crew was digging out a hole for the new foundation and laying pipe work. Tommy lent a hand wherever he could, but while he'd become a deft hand with screwdrivers and welding irons while racing for his uncle, he found that knowing how to fix an engine was a far different thing than building work.
*Jase would've been in his element, though. He's worked in John's business all the time during school breaks, and would know what to do without having to ask or being shown every little detail!*
Feeling frustrated and more than slightly useless, Tommy tried to work on his research, but even in the relative isolation of the Lair the inevitable sounds of people shouting at each other, hammering, sawing and whatnot was too much distraction. What was more, the whole morning he'd been uneasy and more than usually worried.
*It's gotta have to do with Jase.*
He only ever got this kind of feeling when something was wrong with his lover, because it had happened often enough in the past. Off the top of his head, Tommy could remember two instances that stood out - during the time the Gold Powers were starting to drain Jason's life force, or when he'd broken his wrist at work two years ago and Tommy had found his concentration abruptly disturbed in the middle of class. Jason admitted to having similar experiences, beginning from the time when Zedd had started targeting Tommy's Powers.
Today, Tommy was reasonably sure that Jason was physically safe in Angel Grove - barring an accident on his way to and from the hospital, or possibly a mugging - but the same most likely couldn't be said about his mental condition.
*What if something bad has happened to Helen?* In that case, Jason would most definitely be severely distressed. *He'd call me, though. Wouldn't he?*
Unless … unless he was too caught up in grief or something, assuming a worst-case scenario. Tommy eyed the phone on his desk consideringly. Should he call Jason and make sure he was alright, as much as he was likely to be given the circumstances? He checked his watch. Barely noon; if Jason stuck to the schedule they'd established since Monday, it would be several hours yet before he phoned home.
*To hell with it.* The nagging feeling wasn't going away, and Tommy was too antsy to wait until early evening. Hoping he'd get a connection or wouldn't interrupt anything, he picked up the receiver and dialed Jason's cell phone. *Even if it's just to hear him say he's fine and will call back later!*
***
"Isn't that your father?" Rocky asked, pointing discreetly towards the parking lot. Jason looked up and saw the stocky, grey-haired man slowly cross the tarmac towards the truck with its 'Scott Construction' logo, then drive off.
"Yeah. Which means I can now go back inside." He got up from the bench and stretched, taking a couple of eager steps before belatedly remembering he had company. Giving Rocky a sheepish smile, he rubbed his hand along his chin. "Um, sorry. Didn't mean to run out on you like that. It's not that I don't like talking with you, and I really appreciate you taking the time to listen, but …"
"But you need to be with your mother. Don't worry, Jason, I understand," Rocky smiled back, standing as well. "I really ought to get back, too; I was just going to buy some newspapers, and Uncle Felipe will be wondering by now whether I had to print 'em myself."
"Sorry to have kept you."
"Hey, no biggie. Come on, I'll walk with you to the lobby."
Together, the two former Rangers made their way back to the hospital entrance. They had almost reached the front steps when Jason's phone rang.
"Excuse me a sec."
"Sure," Rocky replied easily. He noted that Jason's expression immediately softened as he flipped open his cell and recognized the number on the display, and correctly surmised the caller's identity.
"Yes, Tommy?"
"How's it going, Bro?"
"Okay, I hope," Jason sighed, losing his smile as he turned slightly away from Rocky with an apologetic shrug. "Mom's doctor is suspending radiation for now and changed her medication earlier this morning; if that works, she should hopefully improve soon. If not …"
"Don't even think it, Jase," Tommy interrupted him gently but firmly. *No wonder I was getting bad vibes from him!*
"I'm trying not to." Drawing a deep breath, Jason sent a glance towards Rocky who was waiting patiently a few steps ahead, giving him privacy to talk with Tommy. "Listen, Dad just left; I'm on my way back in. Was anything the matter, or can I call you back tonight as usual?"
"No, everything's going fine here. I just had a weird feeling all morning."
A slight smile curved Jason's lips as he read the deeper meaning behind his lover's words. "I see. Actually, I would have needed you if I hadn't found a good substitute."
"A what?"
"I met … an old friend. And I'll tell you everything tonight, promise."
"Meaning you're letting me die of curiosity all day, huh?" Tommy grumbled, then added, "Never mind, I'll live. Go see your Mom, and we'll talk later."
"Right. Bye." Jason hesitated briefly, then lowered his voice. "Thanks for caring."
"Always. Love you, Bro. Bye." Before he was tempted to prolong the call, Tommy killed the connection and went back to his work, trying to stop worrying despite his lover's reassurances.
Jason clipped his cell phone back onto his belt, meeting Rocky's indulgent look with a somewhat sheepish shrug.
"That was Tommy," he explained unnecessarily. "He's, um, being his usual overprotective self."
"Like you're any different?" Rocky murmured with a smile. Jason had the grace to blush, and the smile widened into a grin. "Really, I figured as much. You guys always were protective about people you care about. Shoot, even back in high school you always seemed to know when the other needed help - of any kind. That radar kind of thing between the two of you is still going strong, huh? "
"It never stopped working," Jason confirmed. "But since I can't have Tommy with me, it was great that you were here. I don't know how I could've stood waiting all morning without having a friend around. Thanks." He held out his hand, and Rocky grasped it without hesitation.
"As I said earlier, Jason - my privilege, and my pleasure. I hope all goes well with your mother."
"Thanks. Your uncle, too."
After a few more words, the friends parted, each going to look after their respective relatives.
***
Jason found his mother resting much more quietly than the previous days, which was a relief in and of itself. It had hurt seeing her squirm and retch with frequent spasms, and listening to her weak moans had been torture. Now he sat quietly by her side, holding her too-cool hand in his much larger, warm ones as he kept silent watch. Nurses went in and out of her room at infrequent intervals, checking the monitors, IV drips and whatnot, but they paid him no heed for the most part, only gently shooing him out when they needed to change Helen's hospital gown and catheter. Jason took the opportunity for a quick bathroom stop and to get a sandwich from the cafeteria, then returned to room 341 to resume his vigil.
Afternoon was half-gone, and with a small sigh Jason realized that he would have to leave soon; his father would return right after work, like he did every day. Lifting the limp fingers, he kissed the back of Helen's hand, then fitted her palm against his cheek. "It's gonna be okay, Mom," he murmured the mantra he'd repeated all day in his mind. "You'll get well soon … you have to!"
He closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensation of a touch his mother had so often given him as a child. Thus, he didn't notice that the woman lying so still against the pale yellow hospital pillow slowly opened her blue eyes.
Helen Scott needed a couple of minutes to orient herself as she emerged from a haze of pain and semi-consciousness; she knew she was in hospital, that she was very sick, but she didn't at first recognize the dark head or the feel of beard-roughened skin against her hand. The man looked familiar, but it took her a while to realize that it wasn't her husband's more grizzled head bent over her. When recognition set in at last, her heart started to beat faster, setting off one of the monitors.
"J-jason?" she murmured, her voice hoarse from lengthy disuse.
Jason's eyes snapped open as he heard his name spoken faintly even through the increased beeps of some medical contraption. "Mom?" he breathed incredulously, hardly daring to believe what his senses told him. Before he could say or do anything, he found himself momentarily pushed aside as a nurse bustled in, checked his mother's vital signs and reset the monitors.
"Good, you're awake," she said cheerily to her patient as she smoothed the bedclothes. "Dr. Gonzales will check on you shortly; is there anything I can do for you?"
"Thirsty," Helen managed after several tries.
"Right." Deftly, the nurse half-filled a cup with fresh water and held it to Helen's parched lips after topping it with a spouted lid. "Just a few sips for now," she cautioned. "I know you want more, but we'll have to see whether it'll stay down. If it does, you can have more in half an hour." Giving an encouraging nod to Jason, she returned to her duty station to inform the attending physician.
Jason hadn't been able to tear his eyes away from his mother's face - and except for the few moments when the nurse had blocked the view, Helen had stared right back at him, too. Resting once more against her pillow, she reached out to her son with a trembling hand.
"Jason … you're here," she whispered.
"Yes, Mom," he murmured back, nearly overcome with relief as he resumed his seat and once more grasped her hand.
"Thought … was dreaming …"
"No, you weren't," Jason reassured her. "I've been here since Monday, only you were too sick to know."
"Wha … what day …"
"Thursday afternoon," Jason replied gently. "Dad's still at work, but he'll be by soon. He's gonna be so relieved you're better!"
"Yes … John …" Helen sighed, a shadow crossing her exhausted face. Now that she was slowly regaining awareness of things beyond her physical misery, she unfortunately remembered the state of affairs between her husband and son - although she felt the stirring of a faint hope that maybe, just maybe they might have reconnected over her illness.
That hope was dispelled, however, when the door to her room opened minutes later and John Scott all but rushed in. "Helen?" he rasped from the doorway.
"Yes, dear," she smiled, but gasped in dismay when Jason immediately released her hand, stood and bent to kiss her brow.
"I'll be back tomorrow, Mom," he murmured. "Sleep well." Then, he left with a last smile and nary a glance at his father. John just stepped aside to make way for him.
Helen desperately wanted to call out, to hold her son back as she helplessly watched Jason's broad shoulders disappear through the door, but was distracted by her husband's broad, relieved smile as he rushed to her side and began to tell her how worried he'd been - and how glad that she was, to all appearances, doing much better. Sighing, she focused her attention on John until exhaustion overcame her soon after her doctor's visit. Helen fell asleep watched anxiously by her husband, her last waking thought the hope that her son would keep his promise and come back the next day.
That night's phone call to Reefside was much longer as Jason filled Tommy in on all that had happened during the day, sharing his relief and delight. Afterwards he decided to go out and have a proper meal for the first time in days. Feeling pleasantly full and mellow, he returned to his room and went to bed, reflecting that no restaurant food, however well prepared, could compare to the pleasure much simpler fare with Tommy gave him - simply because he'd be in the company of the man he loved.
*Soon … soon I'll be back home. And with Mom apparently on the mend, everything is gonna be okay again …*
Soaking up the peace that hope gave him, he fell asleep at last.
***
On Friday, Jason arrived at the hospital later than usual; he'd slept in for once, and found his father's truck already in the parking lot. Sighing, he considered briefly to wait on 'his' bench, then decided against it and spent a couple of hours in Angel Grove Park instead, revisiting places he and Tommy had spent most of their time at during their youth. The mild exercise was also a welcome break from days of sitting hunched over in uncomfortable chairs, and he was feeling better for it when he returned towards mid-morning.
Helen was awake and waiting for him as he entered the sunny room; a lot of medical equipment had been removed by now, making the surroundings much more cheerful.
"Hi, Mom," Jason smiled, depositing a small bouquet he'd bought on the way on her nightstand. "How do you feel?"
"Lousy," Helen grumbled, then softened the statement with a smile of her own as she held out both hands to her son. She no longer looked wasted, and her voice was much stronger, even though she still spoke haltingly, pausing often to rest her diaphragm lest the spasms start again. "What do you expect? They're frying me with radiation and pumping me full of drugs. And I don't even get to get high from all that stuff, just nauseous!"
Jason grinned; he knew too well that his own offbeat sense of humor was directly inherited.
"If you did get high, I'd have to start calling you Junkie Mom," he teased.
"Don't you dare, Jason Lee! You may think you're all grown up, but you're not too old for me to spank you once I'm out of this place. - Oh Jason, I'm so glad you're here," she whispered, her mood shifting suddenly from spunky to tearful. "I missed you so, baby!"
"I miss you, too, Mom," Jason replied quietly.
Helen almost blurted out 'why don't you come home, then?', but she managed to swallow the question just in time. The dark, expressive eyes held longing that seemed equal to hers, but she knew her son well enough to read the sadness and determination beneath. As long as John didn't relent, Jason wouldn't return to his parents' house. *Does he love Tommy more than us, then?*
That question, too, remained unspoken.
*We made him choose once already. I'm not risking losing him again now that he's back by putting him on the spot.*
So she just sighed and twined her fingers with her son's. Jason returned the pressure warmly, dusting another light kiss on the back of her hand. "So, any idea yet when they're gonna kick you out?"
Glad for the change to a safer topic, Helen smiled wryly. Talking was an effort, she was still damnably weak, but she gladly exerted herself for the chance to catch up on her son's life since he'd left Angel Grove. *Four years lost that we'll never get back,* she mourned silently even as she haltingly began to outline the treatment plan Dr. Gonzales had laid out earlier. From there, she deftly steered the conversation towards Jason's activities, listening avidly as he gave a detailed account of the challenges and rewards of his new job - including the award the students had presented him with a scant week ago.
"I haven't been this embarrassed since you made me wear that silly sailor suit to the Christmas party in second grade," Jason sighed comically. "It's a wonder Trini, Kim and Zack didn't disown me there and then. If Bulk and Skull hadn't gotten sick from all the cookies they'd snitched out of the kitchen and missed the hat at least, I'd never have heard the end of it until graduation!"
Helen smiled, both with pride at Jason's accomplishment and the memory. "But you looked so adorable!" When Jason mock-scowled at her, she hastily asked another question, genuinely interested. "What are Kim, Trini and the rest of your friends up to these days? Are you still in contact with them?"
"Sure. We all try and meet once a year; other than that, we call or email each other. Even better, sometimes the whole gang gets together online on holidays, in a chat room - it's a great way to keep in touch." Recounting his friends' whereabouts and doings took up another twenty minutes. At last, though, Helen's curiosity was sated and she shifted exhaustedly on her bed.
"Are you okay, Mom? Do you want a nurse?"
"No … no, just getting a little tired," she muttered petulantly after requesting some more water which Jason solicitously gave her, then lowered the headrest. Why couldn't she stay awake now, when she was finally reunited with her only child? She didn't want to miss a single minute of his company! "I don't want to sleep!"
"Why don't you just close your eyes and rest a little?" Jason suggested. "I'll stay."
"Would you? Really?"
"Of course." Adjusting the hospital chair so that he could lean back, stretch out his legs and still hold his mother's hand, Jason tilted his head and grinned. "See? All set. Now be a good mom and sleep."
"Hmph." Too tired to argue, secretly glad for the care and understanding, Helen obediently closed her eyes. However, sleep wouldn't come; she was too busy digesting all the things Jason had told her. He might not have chosen a very glamorous career, but he was definitely as popular and successful in Reefside as he'd been in Angel Grove. She inwardly glowed with pride over her son's accomplishments, contemplating ways how she could boast - *just a little bit, anyway!* - to her friends until something that had been niggling at the back of her mind all the while crept to the fore. *Jason has said a lot about his students, his colleagues, his friends - but nothing about his life. The one thing he hasn't mentioned at all is his relationship with Tommy.* Helen knew she really shouldn't be surprised; after all, that was the reason why she'd all but lost her son, but as his mother she also couldn't help but wonder … and worry. Slowly, she dragged heavy lids open again and watched Jason as he sat by her side, apparently lost in his own thoughts.
The handsome face was relaxed, and he was looking well, but appearances could be deceiving. Helen started to debate with herself whether she should disturb the fragile peace between them with intrusive questions, but before she could come to a decision Jason turned his head and noticed her eyes on him.
"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?" he chided gently as he straightened from his comfortable slouch.
"I can sleep later," Helen murmured. Throwing caution to the wind, she gripped the hand still holding hers as firmly as she could and asked the one thing she desperately wanted, no, needed to know.
"Jason?"
"Yes, Mom?"
"Are … are you happy?"
Jason answered without a moment's hesitation.
"Yes. Very much."
Helen searched the dark eyes for any sign that Jason might be … well, not lying, but perhaps sugar-coating things for her benefit, but they were clear and truthful. Even the low voice didn't display any doubt whatsoever, and finally she relaxed, sighing as acceptance settled over her at last.
"That's … good."
"Mom, did you honestly think I would've made the choices I did if I hadn't been sure? If I didn't love Tommy, in all ways?" Jason queried, his expression turning serious. "Because I do - and always will. I told you as much four years ago," he reminded her.
His mother sighed again. "I guess at the time I was too shocked and upset to really hear you," she murmured. Then - "It's just … I had set my heart on having grandchildren one day," she confessed softly. It wasn't the whole reason, more an evasion, but Helen didn't feel up to discussing deeper issues now. Besides, it also happened to be true. "When we couldn't have more children after you were born … I'd hoped …" Embarrassed, she freed one hand and wiped her suddenly teary eyes.
For several seconds Jason hesitated, as if he was going to tell some long-held secret, but visibly stopped himself. "That's … not very likely," was all he'd say. "Sorry to disappoint you."
"You never disappointed me, honey." Helen summoned a rather watery smile, having a sudden idea that he might have fathered a child at one point. *If he had, he'd have either married the girl, or brought the baby home. He would never shirk such a responsibility.* "Well, except for depriving me of the big wedding I always wanted for you - and those grandbabies, of course."
"Sorry," Jason repeated and returned the smile. Still, Helen couldn't help the impression that a shadow veiled his eyes momentarily - then dismissed it as pure fancy, a frustrated grandmother's imagination.
"Don't be."
Jason intended to lighten the moment with a teasing remark; however, the door to Helen's room opened just then and John came in, his arms laden with flowers, balloons and magazines. His cheerful greeting to his wife died half-spoken when he saw Jason sitting by his mother's bedside, and like a bad smell an uncomfortable silence spread through the sun-lit room. Jason briefly closed his lids to hide the pang of pain that still caused him, then took leave of his softly-protesting mother.
"It's better this way, Mom. I'll see you again tomorrow."
John mutely stepped out of the way to free the door as his son approached, but looked determinedly aside, thus not even seeing the beseeching glance Jason sent him in passing. Then the door closed on the broad back and Helen, who had noticed, sadly let go of the breath she'd been holding.
*Will John ever permit himself to heal that rift he created?*
She didn't know - and right now, it seemed less likely than ever.
To Be Continued …
List of 22: 09, hallways and 15, peace