[chaptered] once more, with feeling (4/?)
Title: once more, with feeling
Pairing: ohno/celski
Rating: pg13
Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, romance
Warnings: swearing
Author: gdgdbaby
Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06
Notes: JR gets into an accident much worse than the one in autumn 2009. For an anon @ wintergameskink!
@ApoloOhno omg omg OMG is @celskeet okay????
1 minute ago via web
@ApoloOhno dude, where u at? respond to our texts, we’re all worried
3 minutes ago via TweetDeck
@ApoloOhno JAESU WANTS ME 2 TELL U 2 GET UR ACT TOGETHER... IF I CAN HEAR HIM CLEARLY THROUGH THE ACCENT, IDK. I WOULD TXT BUT U AINT RESPONDIN
4 minutes ago via web
@ApoloOhno how’s @celskeet? ur the only one we can tweet for updates T__T
4 minutes ago via Brizzly
@ApoloOhno how come ur at @celskeet’s hospital bed but u aren’t even following him on twitter? wat is that, man
7 minutes ago via Seesmic
And it goes on and on and on like this, a false sense of normalcy falling over him as he makes mechanical responses to as many tweets as he can, fingers slowly numbing over the keys of his cell phone. He types out meticulous, motivational phrases as usual, typical mundane things like stay strong!!! and he hears your prayers, everyone! and lol everything will be just fine, don’t stop believing!, hopes they’re convincing enough to tide everyone over; he slides his phone shut when his hands start cramping up.
Yuki stops by before midnight and drops off (among other things) clothes, well-received Advil, and a bunch of old videotapes and DVDs that he thinks might come in handy. Apolo changes into an ugly (comfortable) pair of sweats and takes a couple pills for the headache, propping his feet on an upside-down wastepaper basket and thumbs through an old photo-album that Sue had brought over earlier.
He drifts in and out of shallow sleep for the rest of the night, only waking up fully in the wee morning hours when a stack of tapes topples over. He blinks in the muted light of dawn and sees JR flipping through the pictures; the album’s filled with family photos and old shots of Apolo with the Celski brothers-and later, pictures of the two of them at ice rinks, random candids on the streets of Federal Way, at Yuki’s house downing bowls of cereal at three in the morning. JR murmurs little nothings like oh, I remember this and God were we stupid back then and hahaha you look like such a tool here.
It’s sappy and overly sentimental (like almost all of his lame tweets) but the bits and pieces of remembrance, the flashes of recognition that cross the kid’s face, make Apolo infinitely more hopeful for his full recovery. JR picks a new-looking disk off the bedside table and waves it in his face, asking to watch in childlike eagerness. Apolo glances at the unfamiliar casing (2010 is what it’s labeled) and shrugs, sticks the DVD into the player and turns the volume to a dull roar.
His breath catches a bit when the first clips come on (he never knew Yuki was this maudlin, making a mix-DVD of Vancouver). They’re taken from everywhere: Jordan’s Facebook, NBC’s official footage, Yuki’s own camcorder; there’s a flutter of bittersweet nostalgia as he watches them laugh about the power outage in the room he’d shared with Simon and Travis. JR stares at the screen in avid concentration, taking in medal ceremonies and the 5000m relay with keen eyes. Even Jungsu and Hosuk’s random cameos can’t ruin the heady rush of excitement that’s rising in his gut from watching each race.
“Did I used to do that?” JR whispers when the disk returns to the menu screen. He pushes crisp sheets off and stares at his bare feet pooled in the covers.
“You did,” Apolo replies. “You do.” He manages to swallow around the lump in his throat, resists the urge to wipe that stupid blank look off JR’s face.
JR hikes his hospital gown up and traces the thick scar on his thigh. Apolo’s heart does a kind of half-somersault in his chest and he’s not sure he wants to go where the kid’s leading. “Is that how I got this?” he asks, and then he’s rubbing at the raised mark with almost feverish intensity. Apolo jumps out of his chair and grabs his wrist; JR swings his free arm around Apolo’s neck and drags him forward until their faces are centimeters from each other and they’re sharing the same air, JR’s eyes impossibly lucid.
“Yes,” Apolo says, treading carefully, “you accidentally sliced your leg open during a fall last year, around this time.” It’s like he can see the gears turning in JR’s head, because the arm around his neck loosens slowly and he pulls back, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Oh,” JR says, “oh,” and for some reason he’s suddenly shaking in bed, his vacant stare twisting into something anguished and in pain, like he’s reliving the experience. Apolo has to seize his arm again to steady him, to prevent the kid from falling out of bed and hurting himself. “I remember,” he gasps, beads of sweat trailing down his forehead and then his face is pressed into Apolo’s shoulder, tears soaking through the thin material of his shirt. “Fuck, it fucking hurt,” and Apolo tucks JR’s head under his chin, JR’s body shuddering into the arm around his waist. He starts breathing faster and faster, little fluttery hiccups of air and then machines are beeping, alarms are going off and he’s being elbowed out of the way, shunted out into the cold corridor by the flood of nurses.
He falls into one of the chairs along the wall and presses the lit-up 1 on his phone’s keypad, Yuki’s number on speed dial. “Hey,” he croaks when he hears a click on the other end.
“You sound like shit.”
“Yeah? Thanks. Feel like it, too.” He stretches, the back of his hand thwacking against the cool cement behind him. “J remembered his accident last year. The doctors are inside with him now.”
“What the hell did you say to him?” comes across the line, but there’s no heat in it.
“We were watching your corny Vancouver DVD,” he says, and he smiles at the resultant groan that crackles through. “And he asked me about the scar and things kind of went downhill from there. He was hyperventilating, I think.” He shakes his head when he’s met with silence. “You know I’m happy he remembers, but-”
“Baby steps,” Yuki interrupts, finally. “We want him to recover, not die of shock.” Something wet prickles at the corners of Apolo’s eyes but he blinks it back, glares up and counts the individual dots on each panel of ceiling. They talk a little bit more about inconsequential things before he hangs up, standing as JR’s room slowly empties until it’s safe to go back inside again (without fear of being trampled by syringe-wielding interns).
A/N: angstttttt & h/c for you lovely people ♥ i'm sorry for doing this to you, jr :[
Pairing: ohno/celski
Rating: pg13
Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, romance
Warnings: swearing
Author: gdgdbaby
Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06
Notes: JR gets into an accident much worse than the one in autumn 2009. For an anon @ wintergameskink!
@ApoloOhno omg omg OMG is @celskeet okay????
1 minute ago via web
@ApoloOhno dude, where u at? respond to our texts, we’re all worried
3 minutes ago via TweetDeck
@ApoloOhno JAESU WANTS ME 2 TELL U 2 GET UR ACT TOGETHER... IF I CAN HEAR HIM CLEARLY THROUGH THE ACCENT, IDK. I WOULD TXT BUT U AINT RESPONDIN
4 minutes ago via web
@ApoloOhno how’s @celskeet? ur the only one we can tweet for updates T__T
4 minutes ago via Brizzly
@ApoloOhno how come ur at @celskeet’s hospital bed but u aren’t even following him on twitter? wat is that, man
7 minutes ago via Seesmic
And it goes on and on and on like this, a false sense of normalcy falling over him as he makes mechanical responses to as many tweets as he can, fingers slowly numbing over the keys of his cell phone. He types out meticulous, motivational phrases as usual, typical mundane things like stay strong!!! and he hears your prayers, everyone! and lol everything will be just fine, don’t stop believing!, hopes they’re convincing enough to tide everyone over; he slides his phone shut when his hands start cramping up.
Yuki stops by before midnight and drops off (among other things) clothes, well-received Advil, and a bunch of old videotapes and DVDs that he thinks might come in handy. Apolo changes into an ugly (comfortable) pair of sweats and takes a couple pills for the headache, propping his feet on an upside-down wastepaper basket and thumbs through an old photo-album that Sue had brought over earlier.
He drifts in and out of shallow sleep for the rest of the night, only waking up fully in the wee morning hours when a stack of tapes topples over. He blinks in the muted light of dawn and sees JR flipping through the pictures; the album’s filled with family photos and old shots of Apolo with the Celski brothers-and later, pictures of the two of them at ice rinks, random candids on the streets of Federal Way, at Yuki’s house downing bowls of cereal at three in the morning. JR murmurs little nothings like oh, I remember this and God were we stupid back then and hahaha you look like such a tool here.
It’s sappy and overly sentimental (like almost all of his lame tweets) but the bits and pieces of remembrance, the flashes of recognition that cross the kid’s face, make Apolo infinitely more hopeful for his full recovery. JR picks a new-looking disk off the bedside table and waves it in his face, asking to watch in childlike eagerness. Apolo glances at the unfamiliar casing (2010 is what it’s labeled) and shrugs, sticks the DVD into the player and turns the volume to a dull roar.
His breath catches a bit when the first clips come on (he never knew Yuki was this maudlin, making a mix-DVD of Vancouver). They’re taken from everywhere: Jordan’s Facebook, NBC’s official footage, Yuki’s own camcorder; there’s a flutter of bittersweet nostalgia as he watches them laugh about the power outage in the room he’d shared with Simon and Travis. JR stares at the screen in avid concentration, taking in medal ceremonies and the 5000m relay with keen eyes. Even Jungsu and Hosuk’s random cameos can’t ruin the heady rush of excitement that’s rising in his gut from watching each race.
“Did I used to do that?” JR whispers when the disk returns to the menu screen. He pushes crisp sheets off and stares at his bare feet pooled in the covers.
“You did,” Apolo replies. “You do.” He manages to swallow around the lump in his throat, resists the urge to wipe that stupid blank look off JR’s face.
JR hikes his hospital gown up and traces the thick scar on his thigh. Apolo’s heart does a kind of half-somersault in his chest and he’s not sure he wants to go where the kid’s leading. “Is that how I got this?” he asks, and then he’s rubbing at the raised mark with almost feverish intensity. Apolo jumps out of his chair and grabs his wrist; JR swings his free arm around Apolo’s neck and drags him forward until their faces are centimeters from each other and they’re sharing the same air, JR’s eyes impossibly lucid.
“Yes,” Apolo says, treading carefully, “you accidentally sliced your leg open during a fall last year, around this time.” It’s like he can see the gears turning in JR’s head, because the arm around his neck loosens slowly and he pulls back, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Oh,” JR says, “oh,” and for some reason he’s suddenly shaking in bed, his vacant stare twisting into something anguished and in pain, like he’s reliving the experience. Apolo has to seize his arm again to steady him, to prevent the kid from falling out of bed and hurting himself. “I remember,” he gasps, beads of sweat trailing down his forehead and then his face is pressed into Apolo’s shoulder, tears soaking through the thin material of his shirt. “Fuck, it fucking hurt,” and Apolo tucks JR’s head under his chin, JR’s body shuddering into the arm around his waist. He starts breathing faster and faster, little fluttery hiccups of air and then machines are beeping, alarms are going off and he’s being elbowed out of the way, shunted out into the cold corridor by the flood of nurses.
He falls into one of the chairs along the wall and presses the lit-up 1 on his phone’s keypad, Yuki’s number on speed dial. “Hey,” he croaks when he hears a click on the other end.
“You sound like shit.”
“Yeah? Thanks. Feel like it, too.” He stretches, the back of his hand thwacking against the cool cement behind him. “J remembered his accident last year. The doctors are inside with him now.”
“What the hell did you say to him?” comes across the line, but there’s no heat in it.
“We were watching your corny Vancouver DVD,” he says, and he smiles at the resultant groan that crackles through. “And he asked me about the scar and things kind of went downhill from there. He was hyperventilating, I think.” He shakes his head when he’s met with silence. “You know I’m happy he remembers, but-”
“Baby steps,” Yuki interrupts, finally. “We want him to recover, not die of shock.” Something wet prickles at the corners of Apolo’s eyes but he blinks it back, glares up and counts the individual dots on each panel of ceiling. They talk a little bit more about inconsequential things before he hangs up, standing as JR’s room slowly empties until it’s safe to go back inside again (without fear of being trampled by syringe-wielding interns).
A/N: angstttttt & h/c for you lovely people ♥ i'm sorry for doing this to you, jr :[