Summer Days - Day 7
Title: Summer Days - Day 7
Rating: R
Genre: AU, H/C
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Warnings: hurt!Jensen
Word Count: ~3000
Disclaimer: The events described in this story are purely fictional.
A/N: Part of Summer Days
A/N: I've spent a fair amount researching the diseases and medical procedures mentioned in this fanfic, however I'm not a medical professional, so if you find any inaccuracies, please be so kind to file them under artistic license ;)
Summary: Sometimes small things come back to bite you... some place it really hurts.
Summer Days
"If you are going through hell, keep going."
~ Winston Churchill
Day 7
Jared
There’s no sun this morning. Jared stares at the kitchen window. Heavy rain a steady knocking on the glass. He can’t see further than his own reflection. It stares back at him, gloomily. His cell phone weighs heavy in his hand. Madeleine’s on the other end of the line.
“I won’t be coming in, today,” he says. “Please reschedule my appointments.”
“I see. Well, the weather is indeed awful. Two of your clients have already canceled. I will contact the others.”
He wipes his thumb over the glass. It’s cold. The world behind it remains grey. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “The weather…”
A beat. “Mr. Padalecki? Is everything alright?” Madeleine’s voice fills with concern.
He takes slow, even breaths. In. Out. In. Out. “I have to go.” He hangs up. Sets down the phone and turns to the tray on the counter. A steaming cup of herbal tea. A plate with a couple slices of dry toast. It looks as bleak as the outside world. He removes the tea bag.
A groan echoes through the house. Jared glances towards the stairs. Dully, he picks up the tray.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be easier.
***
He enters Jensen’s room. Everything’s pale, the colors de-saturated. The light’s on but it’s not doing much against the gray of the day. By Jensen’s bed sit Harley and Sadie, ears pointed. Watchful and worried. It forces a brief smile on his lips. He sets the tray on the floor. His dogs ignore it.
Carefully, Jared sits down on the edge of the bed. The air feels feverish. Jensen’s drenched in sweat. The black velvet shirt clings to him. God knows why he’s still wearing it. Jared found him like this. Aside that, Jensen’s just wearing a pair of black boxer briefs. Nothing else. Even the cover has been pushed to the floor. Jared brushes a strand of hair from his white, clammy forehead.
Jensen’s breathing is harsh but labored. Shallow. He’s curled up on his side. Arms wrapped around his stomach. His eyelids hang heavy, his eyes glassy with exhaustion and pain.
Jared picks up the cup of tea. “You should try some. Maybe it’ll help.”
But Jensen shakes his head ‘no’. The bed creaks. Jared touches the mattress. Jensen complained about it before. They still have to get it fixed.
“Subox…” Jensen groans and Jared looks back up. Jensen glances at him from the corner of his eyes.
Jared tightens his fingers around the hot cup. Feels the skin stretch across his knuckles. “Then what?” He asks, dully. “Try again next week?”
Jensen releases a groaning whimper. Buries his face in his pillow. The bedding is white, some busty Asian cartoon girls in bikinis printed on it. Jared is still convinced Jensen picked it for the hell of it. To test his reaction. Or maybe it’s a safe way for Jensen to exude control over sexuality. Jared’s been wondering lately.
Sadie gives a bark. It’s abrupt. Startles Jared. He shushes her. Next to him Jensen quivers in his own sweat. Jared sighs, wearily. “Come on,” he whispers. Reaches for the wet cloth on the night stand. Rinses it in the water filled bowl before he dabs at Jensen’s neck. “Let me take off that shirt. It’s soaked through.”
A slow, nearly imperceptible tilt of the head is all the response he gets. To call it a nod would be an overstatement, but Jared takes it as a ‘yes’, anyway.
Suddenly Sadie barks again. Several times even. He flinches hard. Has to raise his voice to get her to shut up. It’s odd.
He uncurls one of Jensen’s hands that have cramped into claws over his stomach. Eyes squeezed shut, Jensen groans and whimpers as Jared moves his arm out of the sleeve. First one then the other. It’s the ordeal of the millennium. By the time Jensen’s free of his shirt, Jared’s soaked, too.
He tosses the shirt to the free side of the bed. Then wipes his own forehead with the hem of his own T-shirt.
Another bark from Sadie makes him grit his teeth. Harley has gotten up onto his feet. His hackles are raised.
“Jesus, what’s with you?” Jared gasps. Shaking his head, he turns back to Jensen’s fetal form. And that’s when he spots them. A group of blotches, some smaller some larger, littering the curve over his armpit to half way down his ribcage. Brownish-red, they look like scabbed over bug bites. But they’re not. He knows what they are. Jared’s breath catches in his throat. His heart stops. “But how…?” It eludes him.
“Wha..?” Jensen gasps.
“That.” He points at it.
Jensen lifts his head a quarter inch. Tries shifting on the bed, but doesn’t get far. Groaning in pain, he curls back up. “Jen-“ Jared can’t hear his voice over Sadie’s barking, and now Harley has joined in, too. He doesn’t shun them this time. Knows it’d be pointless. They can smell it. Can probably smell it inside him.
He cups Jensen’s cheek with one hand. Picks up a phone and dials 911 with the other. He keeps both his hands were they are. One pressed up against his ear, as he talks to the emergency call operator. The other pressed up against Jensen’s cheek, even when Jensen’s eyes grow huge. When his shoulders shoot up, tense up. When his chin quivers and his lips thin out. And even when Jensen’s mouth is forced open by a gush of acrid bile and blood…
Jensen
He remembers the Grand Canyon. Roy took him there when he was 15 or 16, he’s not sure anymore. Not on a tour or anything. Roy didn’t want to spend money on that.
But he got to stand on the edge. Barefoot. He doesn’t remember why he was barefoot. Just that he curled his toes around the sharp stone edge. Felt the dust prickle against his skin. The wind tug at his clothes. And he just stood there swaying in the breeze like leaves of grass.
Roy had stood back. Shared a joint with that quiet guy that was his partner at that time. They had thought he was dying back then, too. Some stomach thing that had him puking and crapping his guts out until he’d become so weak he could barely walk.
In the light of the setting sun he had stood there. High on Heroin - and at that time it still worked, still was this magic medicine - he had waited to be blown away. To fly off into the sunset. But he hadn’t been blown away. And he hadn’t died, either. His body was stubborn like that. And sadistic.
And it still is.
He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know he’s still alive. He can still taste blood on his tongue. Feel the soreness in his throat. Smell the hospital through his oxy mask. There’s a throb to his stomach. One to his shoulder. An infusion. Blissful dullness in liquid form. For now. It’s just a matter of time until his body lets the pain back in.
He can hear the doctor talk to Jared about high doses in short intervals for a short period of time. He listens on, floating in the eternal black abyss behind his closed eye lids.
“…we were able to repair the perforation via laparoscopy. Furthermore we managed to resect the three other Kaposi Sarcoma lesions that we found in the pre-surgical examination. A colonoscopy for the lesion in his large intestine luckily proved to be unnecessary.”
“Luckily,” Jared says.
“A colonoscopy proposes a great risk for infection. With his HIV-status -”
“I get it.”
There’s a pause. The sound of their collective breathing the only sound. And Jensen just knows Jared is off worse than he is.
Jared
A small part of him doesn’t recognize himself. He feels restless with anger. It’s without direction and that fuels it even more. He doesn’t know where to lay the blame.
His fingers go to his head. He drops it, claws at his scalp.
“One more thing,” Dr. Foster says. “As far as I’m informed, you and Mr. Ackles are living together. Is that right?”
He nods, without lifting his head. “I’ve already had a sample of my blood taken.”
“Are there any other people who might have gotten into close contact with Mr. Ackles? With his saliva or…”
He sighs, glances up. “One guy might… but I neither know his name, nor-” Jared breaks himself off. Jensen’s eyes are open. Bloodshot and heavy lidded but fully aware. A pale hand pulls his oxy-gen mask down. His dry, split lips start moving. “’s one other guy…”
He blinks. Frowns. “You-”
But Jensen shakes his head. “No John, but… a few weeks ago,” His eyes twitch to his doctor. “Drinkin’… same bottle?”
Dr. Foster nods contemplatively. “It’s unlikely, but the virus can be transmitted this way.”
A few weeks ago… He knows Jensen didn’t carry the virus back then. Jared frowns. That means… sharing this bottle, it’s gotta be where he got it from.
His hands shoot to his knees. He holds himself down as he inches forward on his chair. His heart races. “Who?” He snaps, his anger curling up in his gut.
For a long beat, Jensen doesn’t say anything. Then, quietly “It was an accident. Didn’t say anythin’… thought I’d gotten one over on him… I was just hoping he’d get a cold sore… no more… no…” Jensen’s trails off.
“You…” He starts, disbelieving. “My brother, you’re talking about my brother?”
Jensen gives a faint nod.
For a second time this day, the world around him dies. He glances down at his hands. Crimson half moons… clotted blood under his finger nails that won’t come off.
He’s gonna kill that asshole.
Jeff
The elevator shows third floor. A group of doctors enters. Most of them still wet behind their ears. A damn teaching hospital. His fists curl tighter, until he feels his skin stretch taut over his knuckles, close to bursting. He works his jaw, his teeth creak, but the wild bunch doesn’t hear it. Too damn busy laughing. He takes a step back from them. Bumps into the back wall of the elevator. Not enough space. These damn things never have enough space.
He would have opted for the stairs, but six floors would have taken too damn long. But then again… the elevator door beeps. Opens at the fourth floor. More people enter. It takes forever, too.
His head throbs like mad. Ever since that call from his brother. Get your ass to the hospital. Right now! After that Jared’d just hung up. Like he’s some stupid answering machine. And now he’s here, sacrificing his well earned lunch break because Daddy’s new favorite might have a pimple or something.
***
“Cancer?!” He snaps, glares at Jared just so he doesn’t have to lay eyes on that pathetic Junkie that got his brother’s mind warped. “If anything, the fucker gave it to me!”
The next moment white hot pain explodes in his cheek. He stumbles backwards. His dress shoes squeak on the ground. He catches himself on the small table. Exhales a deep breath.
He looks up. Jared’s standing by that bastard’s bed. Shoulders heaving, fist still raised.
“He didn’t have it then. I made sure of it! The doctor had him tested,” he grits, “for everydamnthing!”
“Then he got it elsewhere. Man, think about it, you’re not that stupid!”
“There’s no elsewhere!” Jared shouts.
“Why?” He calls. “Because he said so?” Angry, he waves at the bastard who still has to say a fucking word. Probably enjoys this fucking scene too much to intervene. God, how much he wants to rip this junkie’s sunken, twitchy eyes out right now. And then for a moment their eyes meet. A cold chill runs down his spine. He swallows hard, tears his eyes away from this weird guy. Back to his brother. “Jesus, Jared, are you even listening to yourself?” He straightens back up. Wipes a hand over his face. “You believe him over me? How can you believe anything he says, he-”
“Shut up, or…” Jared’s shoulder tense up. He looks so much like those dogs of his right now, Jeff can’t help a grin. At least he wasn’t a cat person, he used to tease him. Meant there was some hope left that he’d lose his virginity some time, after all.
“Bring it,” he says. This time he’s prepared. One freebie he has granted him. Little brother bonus and all that. But one’s enough.
Jared locks their eyes. He sets his jaw. Holds the stare. The air between them is about to snap.
A chuckle suddenly disrupts the tension. It’s so unexpected, he flinches. So does Jared.
“You’re both idiots.” Jensen’s voice is hoarse. Nothing like that cocky, low rumble sound that used to grate on his nerve. For a moment he’s tempted to check if there’s someone else in the room. Then Jensen’s eyes lock on his. Hold him in place. “Ya’ don’t believe ya’ got the virus? Fair enough,” he says. Then a scary grin stretches across his pale features. “Get tested.”
Jeff grits his teeth. Thinks about it. Then he shoots a glance at Jared and nods. “Alright. But just to end this farce.”
Jensen
He nudges Jared’s hand. “You go, find someone who-”
“I…” Jared’s fingers curl around his. Holding on.
Jensen locks their eyes. Works up a smile. “See if you can find us something cool to drink, too, okay?”
For a moment Jared just frowns at him. Then he huffs a laugh. Nods. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”
Hesitantly, Jared lets go off him. Takes a couple steps back, before he turns and exits the room.
Jensen watches the door fall into the lock. Jeff does too. A heavy silence falls over them, afterwards. The soft hum of his status monitor the only sound.
“Hey,” he calls eventually. "Wanna see it?"
Jeff glances at him. “See what?”
It takes his weary limbs a moment, and the movement hurts, but the look on Jeff’s face is worth it. Brother or not, Jared’s got enough on his plate without Jeff being a douche. He tosses his cover back. Exposes the bandage that patches up the hole in his gut. A small bag is attached to it, filling slowly with rose fluid.
“They probed my gut. Had to go through all 25 or so feet of it.” He pokes the bag. “They said I’ve been lucky. This could have been a permanent one for poop.”
Jeff’s eyes twitch back and forth. A pretense of coolness. “Sucks,” Jeff mumbles. “But I’m telling you. You can’t have it from me.” He lifts his hands, palms outward. “I’m not sick.”
Jensen drops his covers again and nods slowly. “’s what I said, too. I thought you could have gotten it from me.”
Jeff’s eyes widen comically. “Then why-”
“The doc,” he says. Jeff falls quiet.
“Because of HIV - my body can’t fight it. Yours can. For now.”
A beat of silence. Jeff’s anger seems to have made way for fear. He wrings his hands, brushes one through his hair. Starts pacing, a rat desperately looking for the exit of a maze. “But where would I’ve gotten it from?” Jeff asks, eventually. “It makes no sense.”
“The doctor asked Jared some questions - if you’d been to Africa.”
Jeff swallows hard.
“Apparently, up to 60% of the people there are infected. Bet ya’ didn’t wanna bring that home from your business trip, did ya’?” He pauses, smirks. “Was she good? I bet at least her kisses were. Must have been real deep ones.”
It’s just been a guess, but if he knows anything it’s Johns. And apparently, he hit the bullseye. In a flash, Jeff’s anger is back in full force. “You fuckin’-” Jeff snarls, fists the collar of his hospital gown in a tight grip, lifts him up. Jensen bites his teeth against the pain of the sudden move. But he doesn’t let his smirk slip.
“Is that why you hate me?" He asks. "Because I remind ya' of ya' dirty secret? Or is it secrets?”
“Shut up!” Jeff shouts. Spit flies onto Jensen’s face.
“Alright,” he says. Pats Jeff’s hands. Takes delight in the disgusted look that crosses Jeff’s face. “It’s gonna cost you, though.”
With an angry grunt, Jeff flings him back down.
He coughs. His gut aches even through the painkillers. But he forces a grin on his face, nonetheless. Waits for Jeff to stop pacing, to straighten out his fancy suit and turn to him. Waits for Jeff to ask, “How much do you want, you little leech?”
He chuckles humorlessly. “I don’t want ya’ fucking money, douchebag. I want you to never forget that you owe something to a brain-dead junkie whore.”
Jeff stares at him, irritated and puzzled. Jensen sighs. Rolls his eyes. “Alright, Mr. Education, listen to me. I’m gonna make this simple: Ya’ took a part of my life. It’s only fair ya’ give me back another part.”
“Just tell me: What the fuck do you want?”
He smiles, sinks back into his pillow. If this works out, everyone’s going to know Jeff’s the one who helped him out, everyone’s going to thank Jeff, to praise Jeff. And in doing so, everyone’s going to remind Jeff what a sick fuck he is. Payback’s a bitch.
“Get me-“ Jensen starts, when the door to his room opens. Jared’s back, together with a nurse.
He shoots Jeff a last glance then turns to Jared. “Guess what?” He calls. “Jeff’s going to get me a job. A real job.”
Day 8
Rating: R
Genre: AU, H/C
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Warnings: hurt!Jensen
Word Count: ~3000
Disclaimer: The events described in this story are purely fictional.
A/N: Part of Summer Days
A/N: I've spent a fair amount researching the diseases and medical procedures mentioned in this fanfic, however I'm not a medical professional, so if you find any inaccuracies, please be so kind to file them under artistic license ;)
Summary: Sometimes small things come back to bite you... some place it really hurts.
Summer Days
"If you are going through hell, keep going."
~ Winston Churchill
Day 7
Jared
There’s no sun this morning. Jared stares at the kitchen window. Heavy rain a steady knocking on the glass. He can’t see further than his own reflection. It stares back at him, gloomily. His cell phone weighs heavy in his hand. Madeleine’s on the other end of the line.
“I won’t be coming in, today,” he says. “Please reschedule my appointments.”
“I see. Well, the weather is indeed awful. Two of your clients have already canceled. I will contact the others.”
He wipes his thumb over the glass. It’s cold. The world behind it remains grey. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “The weather…”
A beat. “Mr. Padalecki? Is everything alright?” Madeleine’s voice fills with concern.
He takes slow, even breaths. In. Out. In. Out. “I have to go.” He hangs up. Sets down the phone and turns to the tray on the counter. A steaming cup of herbal tea. A plate with a couple slices of dry toast. It looks as bleak as the outside world. He removes the tea bag.
A groan echoes through the house. Jared glances towards the stairs. Dully, he picks up the tray.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be easier.
***
He enters Jensen’s room. Everything’s pale, the colors de-saturated. The light’s on but it’s not doing much against the gray of the day. By Jensen’s bed sit Harley and Sadie, ears pointed. Watchful and worried. It forces a brief smile on his lips. He sets the tray on the floor. His dogs ignore it.
Carefully, Jared sits down on the edge of the bed. The air feels feverish. Jensen’s drenched in sweat. The black velvet shirt clings to him. God knows why he’s still wearing it. Jared found him like this. Aside that, Jensen’s just wearing a pair of black boxer briefs. Nothing else. Even the cover has been pushed to the floor. Jared brushes a strand of hair from his white, clammy forehead.
Jensen’s breathing is harsh but labored. Shallow. He’s curled up on his side. Arms wrapped around his stomach. His eyelids hang heavy, his eyes glassy with exhaustion and pain.
Jared picks up the cup of tea. “You should try some. Maybe it’ll help.”
But Jensen shakes his head ‘no’. The bed creaks. Jared touches the mattress. Jensen complained about it before. They still have to get it fixed.
“Subox…” Jensen groans and Jared looks back up. Jensen glances at him from the corner of his eyes.
Jared tightens his fingers around the hot cup. Feels the skin stretch across his knuckles. “Then what?” He asks, dully. “Try again next week?”
Jensen releases a groaning whimper. Buries his face in his pillow. The bedding is white, some busty Asian cartoon girls in bikinis printed on it. Jared is still convinced Jensen picked it for the hell of it. To test his reaction. Or maybe it’s a safe way for Jensen to exude control over sexuality. Jared’s been wondering lately.
Sadie gives a bark. It’s abrupt. Startles Jared. He shushes her. Next to him Jensen quivers in his own sweat. Jared sighs, wearily. “Come on,” he whispers. Reaches for the wet cloth on the night stand. Rinses it in the water filled bowl before he dabs at Jensen’s neck. “Let me take off that shirt. It’s soaked through.”
A slow, nearly imperceptible tilt of the head is all the response he gets. To call it a nod would be an overstatement, but Jared takes it as a ‘yes’, anyway.
Suddenly Sadie barks again. Several times even. He flinches hard. Has to raise his voice to get her to shut up. It’s odd.
He uncurls one of Jensen’s hands that have cramped into claws over his stomach. Eyes squeezed shut, Jensen groans and whimpers as Jared moves his arm out of the sleeve. First one then the other. It’s the ordeal of the millennium. By the time Jensen’s free of his shirt, Jared’s soaked, too.
He tosses the shirt to the free side of the bed. Then wipes his own forehead with the hem of his own T-shirt.
Another bark from Sadie makes him grit his teeth. Harley has gotten up onto his feet. His hackles are raised.
“Jesus, what’s with you?” Jared gasps. Shaking his head, he turns back to Jensen’s fetal form. And that’s when he spots them. A group of blotches, some smaller some larger, littering the curve over his armpit to half way down his ribcage. Brownish-red, they look like scabbed over bug bites. But they’re not. He knows what they are. Jared’s breath catches in his throat. His heart stops. “But how…?” It eludes him.
“Wha..?” Jensen gasps.
“That.” He points at it.
Jensen lifts his head a quarter inch. Tries shifting on the bed, but doesn’t get far. Groaning in pain, he curls back up. “Jen-“ Jared can’t hear his voice over Sadie’s barking, and now Harley has joined in, too. He doesn’t shun them this time. Knows it’d be pointless. They can smell it. Can probably smell it inside him.
He cups Jensen’s cheek with one hand. Picks up a phone and dials 911 with the other. He keeps both his hands were they are. One pressed up against his ear, as he talks to the emergency call operator. The other pressed up against Jensen’s cheek, even when Jensen’s eyes grow huge. When his shoulders shoot up, tense up. When his chin quivers and his lips thin out. And even when Jensen’s mouth is forced open by a gush of acrid bile and blood…
Jensen
He remembers the Grand Canyon. Roy took him there when he was 15 or 16, he’s not sure anymore. Not on a tour or anything. Roy didn’t want to spend money on that.
But he got to stand on the edge. Barefoot. He doesn’t remember why he was barefoot. Just that he curled his toes around the sharp stone edge. Felt the dust prickle against his skin. The wind tug at his clothes. And he just stood there swaying in the breeze like leaves of grass.
Roy had stood back. Shared a joint with that quiet guy that was his partner at that time. They had thought he was dying back then, too. Some stomach thing that had him puking and crapping his guts out until he’d become so weak he could barely walk.
In the light of the setting sun he had stood there. High on Heroin - and at that time it still worked, still was this magic medicine - he had waited to be blown away. To fly off into the sunset. But he hadn’t been blown away. And he hadn’t died, either. His body was stubborn like that. And sadistic.
And it still is.
He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know he’s still alive. He can still taste blood on his tongue. Feel the soreness in his throat. Smell the hospital through his oxy mask. There’s a throb to his stomach. One to his shoulder. An infusion. Blissful dullness in liquid form. For now. It’s just a matter of time until his body lets the pain back in.
He can hear the doctor talk to Jared about high doses in short intervals for a short period of time. He listens on, floating in the eternal black abyss behind his closed eye lids.
“…we were able to repair the perforation via laparoscopy. Furthermore we managed to resect the three other Kaposi Sarcoma lesions that we found in the pre-surgical examination. A colonoscopy for the lesion in his large intestine luckily proved to be unnecessary.”
“Luckily,” Jared says.
“A colonoscopy proposes a great risk for infection. With his HIV-status -”
“I get it.”
There’s a pause. The sound of their collective breathing the only sound. And Jensen just knows Jared is off worse than he is.
Jared
A small part of him doesn’t recognize himself. He feels restless with anger. It’s without direction and that fuels it even more. He doesn’t know where to lay the blame.
His fingers go to his head. He drops it, claws at his scalp.
“One more thing,” Dr. Foster says. “As far as I’m informed, you and Mr. Ackles are living together. Is that right?”
He nods, without lifting his head. “I’ve already had a sample of my blood taken.”
“Are there any other people who might have gotten into close contact with Mr. Ackles? With his saliva or…”
He sighs, glances up. “One guy might… but I neither know his name, nor-” Jared breaks himself off. Jensen’s eyes are open. Bloodshot and heavy lidded but fully aware. A pale hand pulls his oxy-gen mask down. His dry, split lips start moving. “’s one other guy…”
He blinks. Frowns. “You-”
But Jensen shakes his head. “No John, but… a few weeks ago,” His eyes twitch to his doctor. “Drinkin’… same bottle?”
Dr. Foster nods contemplatively. “It’s unlikely, but the virus can be transmitted this way.”
A few weeks ago… He knows Jensen didn’t carry the virus back then. Jared frowns. That means… sharing this bottle, it’s gotta be where he got it from.
His hands shoot to his knees. He holds himself down as he inches forward on his chair. His heart races. “Who?” He snaps, his anger curling up in his gut.
For a long beat, Jensen doesn’t say anything. Then, quietly “It was an accident. Didn’t say anythin’… thought I’d gotten one over on him… I was just hoping he’d get a cold sore… no more… no…” Jensen’s trails off.
“You…” He starts, disbelieving. “My brother, you’re talking about my brother?”
Jensen gives a faint nod.
For a second time this day, the world around him dies. He glances down at his hands. Crimson half moons… clotted blood under his finger nails that won’t come off.
He’s gonna kill that asshole.
Jeff
The elevator shows third floor. A group of doctors enters. Most of them still wet behind their ears. A damn teaching hospital. His fists curl tighter, until he feels his skin stretch taut over his knuckles, close to bursting. He works his jaw, his teeth creak, but the wild bunch doesn’t hear it. Too damn busy laughing. He takes a step back from them. Bumps into the back wall of the elevator. Not enough space. These damn things never have enough space.
He would have opted for the stairs, but six floors would have taken too damn long. But then again… the elevator door beeps. Opens at the fourth floor. More people enter. It takes forever, too.
His head throbs like mad. Ever since that call from his brother. Get your ass to the hospital. Right now! After that Jared’d just hung up. Like he’s some stupid answering machine. And now he’s here, sacrificing his well earned lunch break because Daddy’s new favorite might have a pimple or something.
***
“Cancer?!” He snaps, glares at Jared just so he doesn’t have to lay eyes on that pathetic Junkie that got his brother’s mind warped. “If anything, the fucker gave it to me!”
The next moment white hot pain explodes in his cheek. He stumbles backwards. His dress shoes squeak on the ground. He catches himself on the small table. Exhales a deep breath.
He looks up. Jared’s standing by that bastard’s bed. Shoulders heaving, fist still raised.
“He didn’t have it then. I made sure of it! The doctor had him tested,” he grits, “for everydamnthing!”
“Then he got it elsewhere. Man, think about it, you’re not that stupid!”
“There’s no elsewhere!” Jared shouts.
“Why?” He calls. “Because he said so?” Angry, he waves at the bastard who still has to say a fucking word. Probably enjoys this fucking scene too much to intervene. God, how much he wants to rip this junkie’s sunken, twitchy eyes out right now. And then for a moment their eyes meet. A cold chill runs down his spine. He swallows hard, tears his eyes away from this weird guy. Back to his brother. “Jesus, Jared, are you even listening to yourself?” He straightens back up. Wipes a hand over his face. “You believe him over me? How can you believe anything he says, he-”
“Shut up, or…” Jared’s shoulder tense up. He looks so much like those dogs of his right now, Jeff can’t help a grin. At least he wasn’t a cat person, he used to tease him. Meant there was some hope left that he’d lose his virginity some time, after all.
“Bring it,” he says. This time he’s prepared. One freebie he has granted him. Little brother bonus and all that. But one’s enough.
Jared locks their eyes. He sets his jaw. Holds the stare. The air between them is about to snap.
A chuckle suddenly disrupts the tension. It’s so unexpected, he flinches. So does Jared.
“You’re both idiots.” Jensen’s voice is hoarse. Nothing like that cocky, low rumble sound that used to grate on his nerve. For a moment he’s tempted to check if there’s someone else in the room. Then Jensen’s eyes lock on his. Hold him in place. “Ya’ don’t believe ya’ got the virus? Fair enough,” he says. Then a scary grin stretches across his pale features. “Get tested.”
Jeff grits his teeth. Thinks about it. Then he shoots a glance at Jared and nods. “Alright. But just to end this farce.”
Jensen
He nudges Jared’s hand. “You go, find someone who-”
“I…” Jared’s fingers curl around his. Holding on.
Jensen locks their eyes. Works up a smile. “See if you can find us something cool to drink, too, okay?”
For a moment Jared just frowns at him. Then he huffs a laugh. Nods. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”
Hesitantly, Jared lets go off him. Takes a couple steps back, before he turns and exits the room.
Jensen watches the door fall into the lock. Jeff does too. A heavy silence falls over them, afterwards. The soft hum of his status monitor the only sound.
“Hey,” he calls eventually. "Wanna see it?"
Jeff glances at him. “See what?”
It takes his weary limbs a moment, and the movement hurts, but the look on Jeff’s face is worth it. Brother or not, Jared’s got enough on his plate without Jeff being a douche. He tosses his cover back. Exposes the bandage that patches up the hole in his gut. A small bag is attached to it, filling slowly with rose fluid.
“They probed my gut. Had to go through all 25 or so feet of it.” He pokes the bag. “They said I’ve been lucky. This could have been a permanent one for poop.”
Jeff’s eyes twitch back and forth. A pretense of coolness. “Sucks,” Jeff mumbles. “But I’m telling you. You can’t have it from me.” He lifts his hands, palms outward. “I’m not sick.”
Jensen drops his covers again and nods slowly. “’s what I said, too. I thought you could have gotten it from me.”
Jeff’s eyes widen comically. “Then why-”
“The doc,” he says. Jeff falls quiet.
“Because of HIV - my body can’t fight it. Yours can. For now.”
A beat of silence. Jeff’s anger seems to have made way for fear. He wrings his hands, brushes one through his hair. Starts pacing, a rat desperately looking for the exit of a maze. “But where would I’ve gotten it from?” Jeff asks, eventually. “It makes no sense.”
“The doctor asked Jared some questions - if you’d been to Africa.”
Jeff swallows hard.
“Apparently, up to 60% of the people there are infected. Bet ya’ didn’t wanna bring that home from your business trip, did ya’?” He pauses, smirks. “Was she good? I bet at least her kisses were. Must have been real deep ones.”
It’s just been a guess, but if he knows anything it’s Johns. And apparently, he hit the bullseye. In a flash, Jeff’s anger is back in full force. “You fuckin’-” Jeff snarls, fists the collar of his hospital gown in a tight grip, lifts him up. Jensen bites his teeth against the pain of the sudden move. But he doesn’t let his smirk slip.
“Is that why you hate me?" He asks. "Because I remind ya' of ya' dirty secret? Or is it secrets?”
“Shut up!” Jeff shouts. Spit flies onto Jensen’s face.
“Alright,” he says. Pats Jeff’s hands. Takes delight in the disgusted look that crosses Jeff’s face. “It’s gonna cost you, though.”
With an angry grunt, Jeff flings him back down.
He coughs. His gut aches even through the painkillers. But he forces a grin on his face, nonetheless. Waits for Jeff to stop pacing, to straighten out his fancy suit and turn to him. Waits for Jeff to ask, “How much do you want, you little leech?”
He chuckles humorlessly. “I don’t want ya’ fucking money, douchebag. I want you to never forget that you owe something to a brain-dead junkie whore.”
Jeff stares at him, irritated and puzzled. Jensen sighs. Rolls his eyes. “Alright, Mr. Education, listen to me. I’m gonna make this simple: Ya’ took a part of my life. It’s only fair ya’ give me back another part.”
“Just tell me: What the fuck do you want?”
He smiles, sinks back into his pillow. If this works out, everyone’s going to know Jeff’s the one who helped him out, everyone’s going to thank Jeff, to praise Jeff. And in doing so, everyone’s going to remind Jeff what a sick fuck he is. Payback’s a bitch.
“Get me-“ Jensen starts, when the door to his room opens. Jared’s back, together with a nurse.
He shoots Jeff a last glance then turns to Jared. “Guess what?” He calls. “Jeff’s going to get me a job. A real job.”
Day 8