Smoke & Lightning: City Of Angels (15/?)
Posting for Adorable!
Title: Smoke & Lightning : City Of Angels (15/?)
Authors: eviltwin and bloody_adorable
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS AU
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Wordcount: 4,805
Rating: Adult.
Summary: Every story has an ending, but will this be theirs?
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
SMOKE & LIGHTNING: CITY OF ANGELS
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MASTER POST
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The trip from Texas to LA was typically about eighteen hours. Jeff made it in twelve. How he'd managed it, Jensen never did figure out. There was some sort of mix-up at the front desk. Jensen was dozing, his head rested by Jared's hand, which he still held in his own. He heard Jeff's voice, heard Stevie trying to get him to calm down, and heard some other voices trying to explain what was going on. For a moment, Jensen felt like he was back in Texas, back in the garage, listening to the commotion of the family inside the house. When he suddenly remembered where he was, why he was there, he almost gasped, sitting up straight. His eyes immediately went to the monitors that Jared was still hooked up to. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. The oximeter on his finger was reading that everything was as normal as it could be.
Blinking hard, Jensen stood up, finally letting go of Jared's hand. His fingers felt stiff, and he had to shake his hand before he could get it to work properly. He rubbed at his eyes and pushed his long sleeve aside to look at his watch.
He had to blink again as he did so. There was no window in Jared's curtained-off room, so he couldn't tell if they'd made it through the night yet. His heart fell when he realized that it was only the wee hours of the morning. Jeff and Stevie had been called just after the accident had happened. They'd driven all through Jared's surgeries, and recovery room time. Sadly, Jensen knew they still had a ways to go. The night wasn't over yet.
Jared had been moved to the Intensive Care Unit only an hour or so ago. The room was still just curtained off, easily accessed and very little obstruction to hear when an alarm of some sort went off. Jensen had drifted off for only a few minutes, it seemed. He was very tired, and his dreams had consisted of vivid imagery that he cared not to explore further.
Brought back to reality by the voices rising in volume again outside by the nurse's station, Jensen pushed back the curtain and peeked out. Sure enough, Jeffrey was there, arguing with one of the nurses. Doctor Sutton's note about letting them all in must have gotten pushed aside.
"I don't care what your policy is," he snarled. "That is my son back there."
Jensen knew the policy. Had himself stated them to parents and family members. One at a time. Visits limited to just a few minutes each. Still, he didn't want to give up his place at Jared's side. But that was selfish. So, reluctantly, he took one last look at Jared and stepped past the curtain.
The argument came to an abrupt halt when the nurse saw Jensen nearing them. Jeffrey turned, Stevie made a small sound of surprise and sadness, and Jensen lost any ability to speak. He wanted to tell them how happy he was that they were there. But instead, all he could do was fall into Jeffrey's embrace, clasp his arms tightly around the man until he felt his muscles shaking. The tears that he'd worked so hard at wiping away from his eyes tumbled freely now, and a sob racked his frame. He felt Jeffrey's hand come to rest at the back of his head and wanted to bury his head against the man's shoulder, hide from the scary reality they had been forced into.
Understanding, and willing to bend the rules for a little while, the nurse backed off. She moved back around her station, letting the family be for now.
Jeffrey pulled Jensen back, his hands at either side of the young man's head. His own eyes glistened with tears, but he did his best to not let them fall. They didn't say anything to each other. Instead, there seemed to be some kind of silent conversation in just their gaze. Jensen nodded his head and led Jeff and Stevie past the curtain.
The sound of Stevie's gasp was like a stab through Jensen's heart. He winced, but didn't look at her. Instead, his eyes were on Jared again. The visible wounds seemed almost new, yet familiar and terrifying all at once.
The corners of Jeffrey's mouth were turned down as he walked to Jared. He picked up his son's injured hand and clasped it in his own, gingerly, afraid to cause more damage.
Jensen watched Jared's fingers, hoping for some sort of recognition like he had gotten before. But Jared didn't move.
"He..." Jensen had to pause long enough to clear his throat and swipe a hand over his mouth. "They're not sure he's going to make it through the rest of the night."
A hand to her mouth, Stevie shook her head. "Oh, Jensen," she breathed, tears running down her face.
"He has a really high fever," he continued, straightening a wrinkle out of Jared's hospital gown in a need for something to do to occupy himself. "Probably trying to move blood clots out of his system. He has a broken leg, nose, ribs, fractured collarbone, wrist--"
"Oh, my God," Stevie said. She reached out, setting her hand over Jared's bandaged left arm, almost leaning against her husband as she stood there. "Jared?"
"He had a lot of internal bleeding," Jensen said, his eyes staring at Jared, but not really seeing him. "They lost him a couple times in the OR." He still had a hard time envisioning the doctor using the paddles on Jared's bare chest. He swallowed hard against the lump that seemed permanent in his throat. "I had to sign papers."
"What papers?" Stevie asked.
He looked at her, numb. "DNR," he answered. The world had come a long way regarding life partners and choices made. Still, Jensen was not comforted by his anguished decision. "Jared wouldn't want to live like that."
At the mention of the Do Not Resuscitate papers, Jeffrey finally spoke. He hadn't taken his eyes off of Jared at all, and still didn't as his soft voice interrupted Jensen and Stevie's conversation. "You guys go," he said.
Jensen and Stevie turned, seeing him looking down so lovingly at the battered man in the hospital bed. Stevie wiped at her eyes when Jeffrey reached up with his other hand and set his hand upon Jared's forehead, brushing the damp, wavy locks back into the rest of his hair.
"Let me be alone with my boy."
Jensen stood there for a moment more, his chin trembling as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened again. He felt Stevie take a hold of his hand, interlocking their fingers.
"Come on," she whispered. "Let's go for a walk."
Once again, Jensen didn't want to leave Jared. He was afraid. What if Jared died while he was gone? He didn't budge at first. It took another gentle nudge from Stevie to get him to finally look at her and nod. "Yeah," he agreed after awhile. "Okay."
Jeffrey didn't watch them go. He kept his eyes on Jared. He listened to the machine breathe for his boy, heard the click and beep of machines wired to the young man. He kept brushing Jared's hair back, something he used to do when the boy had had a nightmare about his mother, when she was too sick to get to him to comfort him.
"Hey, kid," he finally said, his voice soft.
Jared did not stir.
Jeff brushed his fingertips over the cut on Jared's forehead. "A drunk driver skips the median and hits me," he said, remembering years ago when he'd gotten his own leg broken by a bad driver. He smiled and shook his head. "You gotta stop following in my footsteps, kiddo." Jared's forehead was still burning, sweat still beading up there after each stroke to his skin. Jeffrey leaned in and pressed a kiss to his son's head. He closed his eyes, remaining there for several seconds. He wasn't much of a religious man, but he offered up a quick plea to whatever god there was, to save his boy. The child he'd never expected to have, but loved more than he could ever say.
Straightening again, Jeff looked down at Jared through watery eyes and tried to smile. "And you gotta stop one-upping me," he said.
* * *
He didn't want anything to eat. And the cafeteria didn't have much to choose from at such a late hour. Still, he got himself an orange and a bottle of water. Stevie did the same, not allowing Jensen to pay for the items.
They sat down at a table for two, off to the side of the roomy cafeteria. One entire wall of windows, which faced the west -- and some of the prettiest sunsets Jensen had seen yet -- was dark, lit only by streetlights. There was a beautiful view of the night-lit city, but neither of them really took the time to admire it.
Jensen cracked open his bottle of water and downed at least half of it. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was. They were quiet as they tore into their oranges. Jensen picked at his, making sure to get all of the bitter white pith off of the fruit. He peeled off a small length of soft pith and rolled it between his fingers, thinking.
"Where are Holly and Corey?"
Stevie tried to smile, but it wasn't as comforting as it usually was. "They're home. Your sister and Phin are staying at the house with them. Kenzie wasn't sure she could face it if..." She paused, not wanting to raise the subject, even though it hung over their heads like a thick smoke. "Your Mom and Rock are on their way up, too. Rock just had to take care of some things with Mickey. I called them on the way to check on them, and Donna said they'd be heading out just a few hours after us."
Jensen nodded. He liked having Jeff and Stevie there, but he really needed to see his mother. "This doesn't feel real," he said. "I mean, this is something you read in a magazine, or see on one of those cheesy talk shows or something, y'know?"
She nodded.
"Everyone thinks 'it won't happen to me.' Hell, I did."
Tugging off a peel of orange skin, Stevie frowned. She had thought the same thing. When Jeff had told her what had happened, she didn't believe him at first. Stuff like that doesn't happen in real life. Not to good people. It happens in movies and books. Right?
After pulling his orange into halves, Jensen sighed. He stared down at the fruit, as if the energy it had taken to peel it had been overly taxing. "What am I going to do, Stevie?"
She looked over at him, not ready to answer such a question. She sniffled and turned her attention back to her own orange. "He'll be alright." She split her orange in half and looked back over at Jensen. "He's strong, Jensen. You know that. He's stronger than Jeff even. He'll make it. He has to."
Jensen tried his own smile this time. He reached across the table and took Stevie's hand in his, praying that she was right.
* * *
Falling asleep in the waiting room chair probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. He had actually told Stevie he wasn't tired. And she had let him sit in the chair, smiled as she watched his heavy eyelids slip further and further closed until his head tilted forward, his chin resting up on his chest. She woke him up just once to hand him her folded jacket. He'd refused, telling her he really wasn't tired. But she had propped the makeshift pillow up behind his head, and with a few strokes of her fingers across his forehead, such a loving, motherly touch, he drifted back off to sleep again.
Sometime during the night, Stevie visited with Jared. She left Jensen sleeping in the waiting room, having covered him with a thin hospital blanket. And, sometime during the night, Chris returned to the hospital. Jensen had a vague, fuzzy memory of Chris telling someone that he just hadn't been able to really sleep at the apartment. Jeff joined them in the waiting room, stretching out on the sofa there. His legs were too long, hanging off of the edge of the cushions. Both Jensen and Jeffrey were so tired that Jeff's snoring didn't wake either of them.
But when Jensen felt Stevie's hand on his chest, gently rubbing to and fro to awaken him, he was up in an instant. "What?" he mumbled, prying his eyes open. His gaze landed on her first, and then Chris standing behind her. "What's wrong?" he said, sitting up better in the chair. "What's going on?"
Stevie brushed a hand over his face. "It's morning."
A little stiff, Jensen tried turning his head from side to side to work out the soreness in his neck. He blinked hard and looked at her. "What?" he asked, once the words had sunk in.
She nodded and smiled brightly. "It's morning."
His heart skipped a beat. "Jay?"
"He's better," she told him. "They're taking him off of the ventilator right now."
He felt his knees give, even though he was still sitting down. He reached for Stevie, his head spinning, wrapping his arms around her, his head rested against her belly. She laughed softly, understanding, and curled her arms around him. Hot tears stung his eyes, but he fought to keep them from falling. Jeffrey stirred and she patted Jensen's back, gently moving out of his arms. Instead, Chris moved closer, his fingers threading through Jensen's short hair and making a careful fist with his good hand. His other hand was still in a cast. He leaned down and smiled into Jensen's tear-filled eyes, then pulled him into a hug, letting go of his hair.
When Chris moved aside, Jensen saw a familiar figure in the doorway of the waiting room. "Mom," he breathed. He stood and quickly closed the distance between them, holding his arms out to her and wrapping her tightly in his hold. As he embraced her, Rock reached out, his hand curling around the back of Jensen's neck. Donna rocked her boy back and forth, apologizing for not having gotten there sooner.
"It's okay," Jensen said, his words muffled against her shoulder. "He's okay."
She nodded, still holding him. "We saw him. He's going to be just fine, you wait and see," she explained, pulling him back just enough to look up at him. "When we got here, you were sleeping, so we didn't wake you."
Jensen hugged her again. "Oh, I wish you had," he told her.
While Stevie quietly told Jeffrey what was going on, Jensen turned to them. He was still dressed in his scrubs, his nametag clipped to the breast pocket on the wrinkled uniform. There was still a stain on the scrub pants, where he had spilled his coffee so many hours ago. "I'm going to go find out what's going on," he told them all.
Rock glanced sideways at Jeffrey, knowingly, then told Jensen that he and Donna were going to visit the cafeteria. Jensen nodded, squeezing his mother's hand to quietly say goodbye before looking expectantly back to Jeff and Stevie, waiting for them to follow.
Jeffrey didn't turn to look at him. Stevie, sat on the edge of the sofa, nodded her head and smiled, waving Jensen and Chris away. Jensen glanced down at Jeff once, understanding that he wanted to keep his reputation as the tough guy, and nodded. His tears of relief would be kept between him, his wife, and the walls of the waiting room.
Chris followed in Jensen's sure footsteps, and each time someone asked if they could help him, he merely motioned to Jensen, and his presence wasn't questioned further. He watched Jensen work. He had always known that his best friend was smart, but the degree of Jensen's intelligence, his mere presence, really came through that morning. Chris was beyond impressed -- he was awed.
Jared was moved to a private room, one with a glass wall that faced the nurse's station. He still looked horrible, was still hooked up to all sorts of monitors and IV poles. But he was alive, he was fighting death, and that's all Jensen cared about.
Jeffrey and Stevie found his room awhile later. Jeff's eyes were red, but Jensen didn't ask him if he was okay. He knew.
"We're going to go get some breakfast," Stevie announced. "Anybody want anything?"
Looking up from his chair beside Jared's bed, Jensen smiled. "I'd actually kill for a sandwich," he admitted. He hadn't realized how hungry he really was, and definitely couldn't remember the last time he'd had some actual food.
Chris stood from his chair beside him, chuckling. "I'll go get you the kind you like," he said. "Anyone else up for McDonald's?"
Jeff tried to look horrified. "You still like that place?"
Jensen smiled and shrugged. It felt good to smile. "It's your son's fault, you know."
Jeff scoffed, shaking his head. "You ought to know better, being a doctor and all," he teased. "Alright, let's go, Chris. Give these two some time alone." He stepped closer to Jared, leaning down to press a kiss to his son's head. "Be back in a while, kid," he said softly to the sleeping man.
Still smiling, Jensen watched them go. He took a deep breath and sighed, feeling positive. Like maybe they'd make it out of this one, after all. Though he loved his family being there, he was actually thankful when they left. It would take Chris, Jeff and Stevie awhile to get to McDonald's and back. He held Jared's hand again and, even though he didn't get a reaction like he did before, he didn't feel any loss of hope.
It was quiet in the room. Jensen sat and listened, for several minutes, to Jared's soft, even breathing. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. A slight hiss could be heard, oxygen pumping from a system embedded into the wall at the head of the bed. Tubing snaked around Jared's head, the O2 hissing into his nose. The pulsator leggings were still on both of Jared's legs, keeping the blood flow smooth and even, and without clots.
The curtains were pulled back, showing off the day. The sun was shining outside, the birds singing. Jensen told Jared all of this, that he should wake up and take a look for himself. He talked about mundane things, how the breakfast cart should be coming around -- what did Jared want to eat? He told him how he would have to stop and see Matty, and explain why he would be gone for a little while. And he told him about how, if Jared agreed, he would talk to Social Services, too.
He wasn't even really sure what alerted him to something different, but for some reason, Jensen found himself looking up at Jared. Really paying attention to him this time, rather than just talking and pretending that things were normal. He saw Jared's eyelids fluttering, and shortly after, Jared's fingers moved, still intertwined with Jensen's.
"Jay?" he said, standing from his chair.
Jared took a breath, this one a little sharper than the slow, even ones he'd been taking only moments ago. He twitched, as if trying to shake his hair out of his eyes.
"Jay?" he said again, hoping to wake him gently. Sometimes, victims of head trauma awakened abruptly, as if they had just been through the accident at that very moment. Jensen didn't want Jared to jar himself too much, not with the broken bones he had. He brushed Jared's hair back from his forehead, hoping to calm him. "Jay, it's alright."
With a start and a sharp gasp, Jared's eyes opened wide. He jerked, made an audible protest, perhaps at the pain he felt.
Jensen held him, trying to be mindful of the man's wounds. "Jay," he said again. "It's alright. It's me. It's me, Jay. You're okay."
He felt Jared's hand clamp around the back of his upper arm, fingers gripping hard. No doubt later there would be a bruise there. Jensen winced but kept looking into Jared's eyes.
"Hey," he smiled. "It's me. You're fine, you're fine."
Recognition seemed to set in. Jared looked over at Jensen and calmed at once. He still held onto Jensen with his one good arm, looked around the room, confused, and then his eyes grew heavy again. His grip loosened on Jensen and he fell back asleep. Jensen didn't give up, however. He brushed Jared's hair back again and talked to him, softly. For a split second, there had been way too much fear in Jared's eyes for his liking. He prayed he never saw that again.
"Jay," he said. "Come on, wake up."
Jared slept on.
"Come on, you were almost there," he encouraged. "Wake up. It's time to get up. You got a lot of stuff to do today, Jared, let's go." He hoped that perhaps some of the same things he said daily to Jared would trigger a response.
It worked. Breath hitched in Jared's throat again. Calmer this time, his head lolled to the side and back again. His eyes fluttered and he opened them. The lids remained at half-mast. The drugs refused to let him awaken completely, which was a Godsend, considering the trauma his body had been through.
Feeling a wave of relief crashing over him, Jensen encouraged him with soft words. He reached into the pocket of his scrubs and found his penlight, clicking it on and shining it into Jared's eyes. "Jared? Jared, can you hear me?" In his excitement, his words seemed rushed, bumping into one another. "Do you know where you are? Jared? If you can hear me, squeeze my hand."
There was no response. Jared's head turned to the opposite side, his eyes heavy as he looked out through the glass, at the nurse's station.
"Jared, come on," Jensen told him, putting the penlight back. He didn't like that Jared wasn't responding to him. He tapped the back of Jared's hand with his palm, trying to get him to say something.
Turning his head back to the man calling his name, Jared looked up at him, blinking ever so slowly. "Stop...fucking...yelling."
Jensen's look of concern immediately disappeared. He laughed, nearly giddy with the simple three words the man had spoken. So crass, but so very Jared. Tears quickly welled-up in his eyes, but they did not fall. He could feel himself shaking, knowing that it was from all of the adrenaline in his system. Stevie had been right. Jared was the strongest person both of them knew, and he had fought hard over the past eighteen-plus hours. "Hey," he breathed happily.
Jared's eyes, lids still at half-mast, glanced around the room. He kept trying to swallow but it was obviously painful to do so. His throat felt swollen, like it was lined with sandpaper. "What happened?" His voice didn't even sound like his own, hoarse and thick with sleep.
Jensen brushed his hair back as he looked down at him. "You were in an accident, do you remember?"
He tried to shake his head, but managed only a slight movement. "I remember...the bank."
It wasn't uncommon for a victim of such a trauma to suffer a good portion of memory loss. It was the brain's way of coping. "It was just after that," Jensen told him. "Someone hit you."
"Chris?"
Jensen smiled and shook his head. "No, it wasn't Chris," he clarified.
"He still at the airport?"
"No," he laughed softly. "No, he's here. He just ran out to get something to eat."
Eyes drifting closed, Jared tried to swallow again. "Throat," he said in a whisper. "Hurts like a bitch."
He nodded. "You were intubated," Jensen explained. "You couldn't breathe on your own. You're pretty banged up."
Jared grunted at him, but made no other recognition of his current state. The drugs were keeping him as pain free as possible, not to mention very sleepy. "What's a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?"
Smiling brightly, Jensen nodded his head. "I'll see what I can do."
Jared let his eyes drift closed again, slipping in to the groggy sleep he'd just come out of. His breathing was soft and even, and his brow held no hint of the high temperature that it had before. Jensen watched him for a few moments, his smile still bright. There was still such a long road ahead of them. Recovery. Weeks in the hospital. Months of Physical Rehab. But at least now, the road didn't seem quite so dark.
Because every good story has an end. It just so happens that this wasn't theirs.
* * *
Jared slept for days. He didn't eat at all, and he only drank very little. Regardless of the IV fluids sustaining him for now, Jensen worried. How could he not, after such an ordeal? After three or four days, however, Jared started to look somewhat livelier. He was still black and blue, and covered in patches of road rash. But he stayed awake longer. His eyes focused on Jensen, even though he was still groggy. Jensen wondered how much Jared would even really remember.
"What's the shit they're giving me?" he asked one time, in between naps.
Jensen leaned forward, setting his magazine aside. "Morphine," he'd said. "Why?"
"I don't like it."
"Why? Is it not working?"
"No," Jared had said to him. "Yes."
Jensen had to chuckle. "Which is it?"
"It's working alright," he'd nodded, speaking with a slight slur to his words. "But shit is green."
"What's green?"
"You."
He had smiled and nodded. "It's just the medicine."
"Your beard is green," Jared told him.
"I don't have a beard, Jay," he'd reminded him.
"You do now." With his uninjured arm, Jared had reached out and brushed his fingertips across Jensen's chin. "Look."
Jensen followed his example, feeling rough beard stubble on his face. "Alright," he gave in with a grin. "I'll shave."
"And the lights," Jared spoke softly. "They're woozy. All comin' down to the floor and shit."
Jensen knew it was Jared that was woozy. He had chuckled and took hold of the man's hand again. "Go back to sleep," he said. "I'll look into a different pain med, how about that?"
"Wicked," Jared mumbled, his eyes already closed.
Jensen returned to work only partially. He took time to go visit Matty, to explain things. The boy seemed to understand, but Jensen could tell that he was feeling blue. To cheer him up, he took him outside into the quad again. He refused, however, to bring him to Jared, even though the little boy asked repeatedly.
"You don't want to meet him right now, bud, trust me," he explained. "He's a mess."
"I'm not doing so hot either," he said, pointing to the wheelchair. "And we have something in common. His leg is broken too, right?"
Sighing, Jensen nodded. "Let me think about it, okay?"
Stevie and Jeff stayed at Jared and Jensen's apartment, along with Chris, so as to let Maya out when she needed it. Stevie also took to cleaning, which, to be honest, didn't hurt Jensen's feelings in the least. When Jared had finally been taken off of the ventilator, Jeffrey called home and talked to Phin. "He ain't out of the woods yet, dude," he said when Phin breathed a sigh of relief. "But I think it would help him out to see you guys. Think you can drive up here?"
"Fuckin' A," Phin nodded.
"My kids sitting within ear shot, asshole?"
Jeff could almost hear Phin's grin. "Two of 'em, at least."
"Then watch your damn mouth," he told him. "Pack up a couple outfits apiece. We can do laundry here. Bring Kenzie, okay? Drop Shelby off at Darby Boliver's house."
"Who?"
"My secretary. Just bring her into work. Darby will take care of her. And just...give the cat a shitload of food, I don't know."
"You got it, Pops," he returned. "On our way."
"Hey," Jeff said, just before Phin hung up.
"Yo."
"Thanks," he told him. "I really appreciate it."
Phin laughed, like the idea of getting thanked for such a thing was ridiculous. "Yeah."
"And listen, call the office for me," he directed. "Give Trevor the news on Jay. And tell the bastard not to get too comfy in the big chair. I want it back when I get back home."
"You got it."
NEXT
Title: Smoke & Lightning : City Of Angels (15/?)
Authors: eviltwin and bloody_adorable
Fandoms: Supernatural RPS AU
Pairing: Jensen Ackles / Jared Padalecki.
Wordcount: 4,805
Rating: Adult.
Summary: Every story has an ending, but will this be theirs?
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
SMOKE & LIGHTNING: CITY OF ANGELS
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MASTER POST
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The trip from Texas to LA was typically about eighteen hours. Jeff made it in twelve. How he'd managed it, Jensen never did figure out. There was some sort of mix-up at the front desk. Jensen was dozing, his head rested by Jared's hand, which he still held in his own. He heard Jeff's voice, heard Stevie trying to get him to calm down, and heard some other voices trying to explain what was going on. For a moment, Jensen felt like he was back in Texas, back in the garage, listening to the commotion of the family inside the house. When he suddenly remembered where he was, why he was there, he almost gasped, sitting up straight. His eyes immediately went to the monitors that Jared was still hooked up to. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. The oximeter on his finger was reading that everything was as normal as it could be.
Blinking hard, Jensen stood up, finally letting go of Jared's hand. His fingers felt stiff, and he had to shake his hand before he could get it to work properly. He rubbed at his eyes and pushed his long sleeve aside to look at his watch.
He had to blink again as he did so. There was no window in Jared's curtained-off room, so he couldn't tell if they'd made it through the night yet. His heart fell when he realized that it was only the wee hours of the morning. Jeff and Stevie had been called just after the accident had happened. They'd driven all through Jared's surgeries, and recovery room time. Sadly, Jensen knew they still had a ways to go. The night wasn't over yet.
Jared had been moved to the Intensive Care Unit only an hour or so ago. The room was still just curtained off, easily accessed and very little obstruction to hear when an alarm of some sort went off. Jensen had drifted off for only a few minutes, it seemed. He was very tired, and his dreams had consisted of vivid imagery that he cared not to explore further.
Brought back to reality by the voices rising in volume again outside by the nurse's station, Jensen pushed back the curtain and peeked out. Sure enough, Jeffrey was there, arguing with one of the nurses. Doctor Sutton's note about letting them all in must have gotten pushed aside.
"I don't care what your policy is," he snarled. "That is my son back there."
Jensen knew the policy. Had himself stated them to parents and family members. One at a time. Visits limited to just a few minutes each. Still, he didn't want to give up his place at Jared's side. But that was selfish. So, reluctantly, he took one last look at Jared and stepped past the curtain.
The argument came to an abrupt halt when the nurse saw Jensen nearing them. Jeffrey turned, Stevie made a small sound of surprise and sadness, and Jensen lost any ability to speak. He wanted to tell them how happy he was that they were there. But instead, all he could do was fall into Jeffrey's embrace, clasp his arms tightly around the man until he felt his muscles shaking. The tears that he'd worked so hard at wiping away from his eyes tumbled freely now, and a sob racked his frame. He felt Jeffrey's hand come to rest at the back of his head and wanted to bury his head against the man's shoulder, hide from the scary reality they had been forced into.
Understanding, and willing to bend the rules for a little while, the nurse backed off. She moved back around her station, letting the family be for now.
Jeffrey pulled Jensen back, his hands at either side of the young man's head. His own eyes glistened with tears, but he did his best to not let them fall. They didn't say anything to each other. Instead, there seemed to be some kind of silent conversation in just their gaze. Jensen nodded his head and led Jeff and Stevie past the curtain.
The sound of Stevie's gasp was like a stab through Jensen's heart. He winced, but didn't look at her. Instead, his eyes were on Jared again. The visible wounds seemed almost new, yet familiar and terrifying all at once.
The corners of Jeffrey's mouth were turned down as he walked to Jared. He picked up his son's injured hand and clasped it in his own, gingerly, afraid to cause more damage.
Jensen watched Jared's fingers, hoping for some sort of recognition like he had gotten before. But Jared didn't move.
"He..." Jensen had to pause long enough to clear his throat and swipe a hand over his mouth. "They're not sure he's going to make it through the rest of the night."
A hand to her mouth, Stevie shook her head. "Oh, Jensen," she breathed, tears running down her face.
"He has a really high fever," he continued, straightening a wrinkle out of Jared's hospital gown in a need for something to do to occupy himself. "Probably trying to move blood clots out of his system. He has a broken leg, nose, ribs, fractured collarbone, wrist--"
"Oh, my God," Stevie said. She reached out, setting her hand over Jared's bandaged left arm, almost leaning against her husband as she stood there. "Jared?"
"He had a lot of internal bleeding," Jensen said, his eyes staring at Jared, but not really seeing him. "They lost him a couple times in the OR." He still had a hard time envisioning the doctor using the paddles on Jared's bare chest. He swallowed hard against the lump that seemed permanent in his throat. "I had to sign papers."
"What papers?" Stevie asked.
He looked at her, numb. "DNR," he answered. The world had come a long way regarding life partners and choices made. Still, Jensen was not comforted by his anguished decision. "Jared wouldn't want to live like that."
At the mention of the Do Not Resuscitate papers, Jeffrey finally spoke. He hadn't taken his eyes off of Jared at all, and still didn't as his soft voice interrupted Jensen and Stevie's conversation. "You guys go," he said.
Jensen and Stevie turned, seeing him looking down so lovingly at the battered man in the hospital bed. Stevie wiped at her eyes when Jeffrey reached up with his other hand and set his hand upon Jared's forehead, brushing the damp, wavy locks back into the rest of his hair.
"Let me be alone with my boy."
Jensen stood there for a moment more, his chin trembling as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened again. He felt Stevie take a hold of his hand, interlocking their fingers.
"Come on," she whispered. "Let's go for a walk."
Once again, Jensen didn't want to leave Jared. He was afraid. What if Jared died while he was gone? He didn't budge at first. It took another gentle nudge from Stevie to get him to finally look at her and nod. "Yeah," he agreed after awhile. "Okay."
Jeffrey didn't watch them go. He kept his eyes on Jared. He listened to the machine breathe for his boy, heard the click and beep of machines wired to the young man. He kept brushing Jared's hair back, something he used to do when the boy had had a nightmare about his mother, when she was too sick to get to him to comfort him.
"Hey, kid," he finally said, his voice soft.
Jared did not stir.
Jeff brushed his fingertips over the cut on Jared's forehead. "A drunk driver skips the median and hits me," he said, remembering years ago when he'd gotten his own leg broken by a bad driver. He smiled and shook his head. "You gotta stop following in my footsteps, kiddo." Jared's forehead was still burning, sweat still beading up there after each stroke to his skin. Jeffrey leaned in and pressed a kiss to his son's head. He closed his eyes, remaining there for several seconds. He wasn't much of a religious man, but he offered up a quick plea to whatever god there was, to save his boy. The child he'd never expected to have, but loved more than he could ever say.
Straightening again, Jeff looked down at Jared through watery eyes and tried to smile. "And you gotta stop one-upping me," he said.
* * *
He didn't want anything to eat. And the cafeteria didn't have much to choose from at such a late hour. Still, he got himself an orange and a bottle of water. Stevie did the same, not allowing Jensen to pay for the items.
They sat down at a table for two, off to the side of the roomy cafeteria. One entire wall of windows, which faced the west -- and some of the prettiest sunsets Jensen had seen yet -- was dark, lit only by streetlights. There was a beautiful view of the night-lit city, but neither of them really took the time to admire it.
Jensen cracked open his bottle of water and downed at least half of it. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was. They were quiet as they tore into their oranges. Jensen picked at his, making sure to get all of the bitter white pith off of the fruit. He peeled off a small length of soft pith and rolled it between his fingers, thinking.
"Where are Holly and Corey?"
Stevie tried to smile, but it wasn't as comforting as it usually was. "They're home. Your sister and Phin are staying at the house with them. Kenzie wasn't sure she could face it if..." She paused, not wanting to raise the subject, even though it hung over their heads like a thick smoke. "Your Mom and Rock are on their way up, too. Rock just had to take care of some things with Mickey. I called them on the way to check on them, and Donna said they'd be heading out just a few hours after us."
Jensen nodded. He liked having Jeff and Stevie there, but he really needed to see his mother. "This doesn't feel real," he said. "I mean, this is something you read in a magazine, or see on one of those cheesy talk shows or something, y'know?"
She nodded.
"Everyone thinks 'it won't happen to me.' Hell, I did."
Tugging off a peel of orange skin, Stevie frowned. She had thought the same thing. When Jeff had told her what had happened, she didn't believe him at first. Stuff like that doesn't happen in real life. Not to good people. It happens in movies and books. Right?
After pulling his orange into halves, Jensen sighed. He stared down at the fruit, as if the energy it had taken to peel it had been overly taxing. "What am I going to do, Stevie?"
She looked over at him, not ready to answer such a question. She sniffled and turned her attention back to her own orange. "He'll be alright." She split her orange in half and looked back over at Jensen. "He's strong, Jensen. You know that. He's stronger than Jeff even. He'll make it. He has to."
Jensen tried his own smile this time. He reached across the table and took Stevie's hand in his, praying that she was right.
* * *
Falling asleep in the waiting room chair probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. He had actually told Stevie he wasn't tired. And she had let him sit in the chair, smiled as she watched his heavy eyelids slip further and further closed until his head tilted forward, his chin resting up on his chest. She woke him up just once to hand him her folded jacket. He'd refused, telling her he really wasn't tired. But she had propped the makeshift pillow up behind his head, and with a few strokes of her fingers across his forehead, such a loving, motherly touch, he drifted back off to sleep again.
Sometime during the night, Stevie visited with Jared. She left Jensen sleeping in the waiting room, having covered him with a thin hospital blanket. And, sometime during the night, Chris returned to the hospital. Jensen had a vague, fuzzy memory of Chris telling someone that he just hadn't been able to really sleep at the apartment. Jeff joined them in the waiting room, stretching out on the sofa there. His legs were too long, hanging off of the edge of the cushions. Both Jensen and Jeffrey were so tired that Jeff's snoring didn't wake either of them.
But when Jensen felt Stevie's hand on his chest, gently rubbing to and fro to awaken him, he was up in an instant. "What?" he mumbled, prying his eyes open. His gaze landed on her first, and then Chris standing behind her. "What's wrong?" he said, sitting up better in the chair. "What's going on?"
Stevie brushed a hand over his face. "It's morning."
A little stiff, Jensen tried turning his head from side to side to work out the soreness in his neck. He blinked hard and looked at her. "What?" he asked, once the words had sunk in.
She nodded and smiled brightly. "It's morning."
His heart skipped a beat. "Jay?"
"He's better," she told him. "They're taking him off of the ventilator right now."
He felt his knees give, even though he was still sitting down. He reached for Stevie, his head spinning, wrapping his arms around her, his head rested against her belly. She laughed softly, understanding, and curled her arms around him. Hot tears stung his eyes, but he fought to keep them from falling. Jeffrey stirred and she patted Jensen's back, gently moving out of his arms. Instead, Chris moved closer, his fingers threading through Jensen's short hair and making a careful fist with his good hand. His other hand was still in a cast. He leaned down and smiled into Jensen's tear-filled eyes, then pulled him into a hug, letting go of his hair.
When Chris moved aside, Jensen saw a familiar figure in the doorway of the waiting room. "Mom," he breathed. He stood and quickly closed the distance between them, holding his arms out to her and wrapping her tightly in his hold. As he embraced her, Rock reached out, his hand curling around the back of Jensen's neck. Donna rocked her boy back and forth, apologizing for not having gotten there sooner.
"It's okay," Jensen said, his words muffled against her shoulder. "He's okay."
She nodded, still holding him. "We saw him. He's going to be just fine, you wait and see," she explained, pulling him back just enough to look up at him. "When we got here, you were sleeping, so we didn't wake you."
Jensen hugged her again. "Oh, I wish you had," he told her.
While Stevie quietly told Jeffrey what was going on, Jensen turned to them. He was still dressed in his scrubs, his nametag clipped to the breast pocket on the wrinkled uniform. There was still a stain on the scrub pants, where he had spilled his coffee so many hours ago. "I'm going to go find out what's going on," he told them all.
Rock glanced sideways at Jeffrey, knowingly, then told Jensen that he and Donna were going to visit the cafeteria. Jensen nodded, squeezing his mother's hand to quietly say goodbye before looking expectantly back to Jeff and Stevie, waiting for them to follow.
Jeffrey didn't turn to look at him. Stevie, sat on the edge of the sofa, nodded her head and smiled, waving Jensen and Chris away. Jensen glanced down at Jeff once, understanding that he wanted to keep his reputation as the tough guy, and nodded. His tears of relief would be kept between him, his wife, and the walls of the waiting room.
Chris followed in Jensen's sure footsteps, and each time someone asked if they could help him, he merely motioned to Jensen, and his presence wasn't questioned further. He watched Jensen work. He had always known that his best friend was smart, but the degree of Jensen's intelligence, his mere presence, really came through that morning. Chris was beyond impressed -- he was awed.
Jared was moved to a private room, one with a glass wall that faced the nurse's station. He still looked horrible, was still hooked up to all sorts of monitors and IV poles. But he was alive, he was fighting death, and that's all Jensen cared about.
Jeffrey and Stevie found his room awhile later. Jeff's eyes were red, but Jensen didn't ask him if he was okay. He knew.
"We're going to go get some breakfast," Stevie announced. "Anybody want anything?"
Looking up from his chair beside Jared's bed, Jensen smiled. "I'd actually kill for a sandwich," he admitted. He hadn't realized how hungry he really was, and definitely couldn't remember the last time he'd had some actual food.
Chris stood from his chair beside him, chuckling. "I'll go get you the kind you like," he said. "Anyone else up for McDonald's?"
Jeff tried to look horrified. "You still like that place?"
Jensen smiled and shrugged. It felt good to smile. "It's your son's fault, you know."
Jeff scoffed, shaking his head. "You ought to know better, being a doctor and all," he teased. "Alright, let's go, Chris. Give these two some time alone." He stepped closer to Jared, leaning down to press a kiss to his son's head. "Be back in a while, kid," he said softly to the sleeping man.
Still smiling, Jensen watched them go. He took a deep breath and sighed, feeling positive. Like maybe they'd make it out of this one, after all. Though he loved his family being there, he was actually thankful when they left. It would take Chris, Jeff and Stevie awhile to get to McDonald's and back. He held Jared's hand again and, even though he didn't get a reaction like he did before, he didn't feel any loss of hope.
It was quiet in the room. Jensen sat and listened, for several minutes, to Jared's soft, even breathing. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. A slight hiss could be heard, oxygen pumping from a system embedded into the wall at the head of the bed. Tubing snaked around Jared's head, the O2 hissing into his nose. The pulsator leggings were still on both of Jared's legs, keeping the blood flow smooth and even, and without clots.
The curtains were pulled back, showing off the day. The sun was shining outside, the birds singing. Jensen told Jared all of this, that he should wake up and take a look for himself. He talked about mundane things, how the breakfast cart should be coming around -- what did Jared want to eat? He told him how he would have to stop and see Matty, and explain why he would be gone for a little while. And he told him about how, if Jared agreed, he would talk to Social Services, too.
He wasn't even really sure what alerted him to something different, but for some reason, Jensen found himself looking up at Jared. Really paying attention to him this time, rather than just talking and pretending that things were normal. He saw Jared's eyelids fluttering, and shortly after, Jared's fingers moved, still intertwined with Jensen's.
"Jay?" he said, standing from his chair.
Jared took a breath, this one a little sharper than the slow, even ones he'd been taking only moments ago. He twitched, as if trying to shake his hair out of his eyes.
"Jay?" he said again, hoping to wake him gently. Sometimes, victims of head trauma awakened abruptly, as if they had just been through the accident at that very moment. Jensen didn't want Jared to jar himself too much, not with the broken bones he had. He brushed Jared's hair back from his forehead, hoping to calm him. "Jay, it's alright."
With a start and a sharp gasp, Jared's eyes opened wide. He jerked, made an audible protest, perhaps at the pain he felt.
Jensen held him, trying to be mindful of the man's wounds. "Jay," he said again. "It's alright. It's me. It's me, Jay. You're okay."
He felt Jared's hand clamp around the back of his upper arm, fingers gripping hard. No doubt later there would be a bruise there. Jensen winced but kept looking into Jared's eyes.
"Hey," he smiled. "It's me. You're fine, you're fine."
Recognition seemed to set in. Jared looked over at Jensen and calmed at once. He still held onto Jensen with his one good arm, looked around the room, confused, and then his eyes grew heavy again. His grip loosened on Jensen and he fell back asleep. Jensen didn't give up, however. He brushed Jared's hair back again and talked to him, softly. For a split second, there had been way too much fear in Jared's eyes for his liking. He prayed he never saw that again.
"Jay," he said. "Come on, wake up."
Jared slept on.
"Come on, you were almost there," he encouraged. "Wake up. It's time to get up. You got a lot of stuff to do today, Jared, let's go." He hoped that perhaps some of the same things he said daily to Jared would trigger a response.
It worked. Breath hitched in Jared's throat again. Calmer this time, his head lolled to the side and back again. His eyes fluttered and he opened them. The lids remained at half-mast. The drugs refused to let him awaken completely, which was a Godsend, considering the trauma his body had been through.
Feeling a wave of relief crashing over him, Jensen encouraged him with soft words. He reached into the pocket of his scrubs and found his penlight, clicking it on and shining it into Jared's eyes. "Jared? Jared, can you hear me?" In his excitement, his words seemed rushed, bumping into one another. "Do you know where you are? Jared? If you can hear me, squeeze my hand."
There was no response. Jared's head turned to the opposite side, his eyes heavy as he looked out through the glass, at the nurse's station.
"Jared, come on," Jensen told him, putting the penlight back. He didn't like that Jared wasn't responding to him. He tapped the back of Jared's hand with his palm, trying to get him to say something.
Turning his head back to the man calling his name, Jared looked up at him, blinking ever so slowly. "Stop...fucking...yelling."
Jensen's look of concern immediately disappeared. He laughed, nearly giddy with the simple three words the man had spoken. So crass, but so very Jared. Tears quickly welled-up in his eyes, but they did not fall. He could feel himself shaking, knowing that it was from all of the adrenaline in his system. Stevie had been right. Jared was the strongest person both of them knew, and he had fought hard over the past eighteen-plus hours. "Hey," he breathed happily.
Jared's eyes, lids still at half-mast, glanced around the room. He kept trying to swallow but it was obviously painful to do so. His throat felt swollen, like it was lined with sandpaper. "What happened?" His voice didn't even sound like his own, hoarse and thick with sleep.
Jensen brushed his hair back as he looked down at him. "You were in an accident, do you remember?"
He tried to shake his head, but managed only a slight movement. "I remember...the bank."
It wasn't uncommon for a victim of such a trauma to suffer a good portion of memory loss. It was the brain's way of coping. "It was just after that," Jensen told him. "Someone hit you."
"Chris?"
Jensen smiled and shook his head. "No, it wasn't Chris," he clarified.
"He still at the airport?"
"No," he laughed softly. "No, he's here. He just ran out to get something to eat."
Eyes drifting closed, Jared tried to swallow again. "Throat," he said in a whisper. "Hurts like a bitch."
He nodded. "You were intubated," Jensen explained. "You couldn't breathe on your own. You're pretty banged up."
Jared grunted at him, but made no other recognition of his current state. The drugs were keeping him as pain free as possible, not to mention very sleepy. "What's a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?"
Smiling brightly, Jensen nodded his head. "I'll see what I can do."
Jared let his eyes drift closed again, slipping in to the groggy sleep he'd just come out of. His breathing was soft and even, and his brow held no hint of the high temperature that it had before. Jensen watched him for a few moments, his smile still bright. There was still such a long road ahead of them. Recovery. Weeks in the hospital. Months of Physical Rehab. But at least now, the road didn't seem quite so dark.
Because every good story has an end. It just so happens that this wasn't theirs.
* * *
Jared slept for days. He didn't eat at all, and he only drank very little. Regardless of the IV fluids sustaining him for now, Jensen worried. How could he not, after such an ordeal? After three or four days, however, Jared started to look somewhat livelier. He was still black and blue, and covered in patches of road rash. But he stayed awake longer. His eyes focused on Jensen, even though he was still groggy. Jensen wondered how much Jared would even really remember.
"What's the shit they're giving me?" he asked one time, in between naps.
Jensen leaned forward, setting his magazine aside. "Morphine," he'd said. "Why?"
"I don't like it."
"Why? Is it not working?"
"No," Jared had said to him. "Yes."
Jensen had to chuckle. "Which is it?"
"It's working alright," he'd nodded, speaking with a slight slur to his words. "But shit is green."
"What's green?"
"You."
He had smiled and nodded. "It's just the medicine."
"Your beard is green," Jared told him.
"I don't have a beard, Jay," he'd reminded him.
"You do now." With his uninjured arm, Jared had reached out and brushed his fingertips across Jensen's chin. "Look."
Jensen followed his example, feeling rough beard stubble on his face. "Alright," he gave in with a grin. "I'll shave."
"And the lights," Jared spoke softly. "They're woozy. All comin' down to the floor and shit."
Jensen knew it was Jared that was woozy. He had chuckled and took hold of the man's hand again. "Go back to sleep," he said. "I'll look into a different pain med, how about that?"
"Wicked," Jared mumbled, his eyes already closed.
Jensen returned to work only partially. He took time to go visit Matty, to explain things. The boy seemed to understand, but Jensen could tell that he was feeling blue. To cheer him up, he took him outside into the quad again. He refused, however, to bring him to Jared, even though the little boy asked repeatedly.
"You don't want to meet him right now, bud, trust me," he explained. "He's a mess."
"I'm not doing so hot either," he said, pointing to the wheelchair. "And we have something in common. His leg is broken too, right?"
Sighing, Jensen nodded. "Let me think about it, okay?"
Stevie and Jeff stayed at Jared and Jensen's apartment, along with Chris, so as to let Maya out when she needed it. Stevie also took to cleaning, which, to be honest, didn't hurt Jensen's feelings in the least. When Jared had finally been taken off of the ventilator, Jeffrey called home and talked to Phin. "He ain't out of the woods yet, dude," he said when Phin breathed a sigh of relief. "But I think it would help him out to see you guys. Think you can drive up here?"
"Fuckin' A," Phin nodded.
"My kids sitting within ear shot, asshole?"
Jeff could almost hear Phin's grin. "Two of 'em, at least."
"Then watch your damn mouth," he told him. "Pack up a couple outfits apiece. We can do laundry here. Bring Kenzie, okay? Drop Shelby off at Darby Boliver's house."
"Who?"
"My secretary. Just bring her into work. Darby will take care of her. And just...give the cat a shitload of food, I don't know."
"You got it, Pops," he returned. "On our way."
"Hey," Jeff said, just before Phin hung up.
"Yo."
"Thanks," he told him. "I really appreciate it."
Phin laughed, like the idea of getting thanked for such a thing was ridiculous. "Yeah."
"And listen, call the office for me," he directed. "Give Trevor the news on Jay. And tell the bastard not to get too comfy in the big chair. I want it back when I get back home."
"You got it."
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