Linkin Park, Brad/Chester, 014 Green
Title Bad luck (green)
Rating PG?
Fandom Linkin Park
Prompt 014 Green
Words 375
Summary Some people just can't cope when things go wrong
“What else do you remember?” The therapist asks.
“The car was green. It was European.”
“What else.”
“Nothing else.”
Nothing else he wants to talk about, anyway. He remembers being grateful that he couldn’t feel anything from the waist down because he could see the way the metal was twisted around his legs. He remembers not being able to breathe because the steering wheel had crushed his ribs.
He remembers that somebody once told him green cars are unlucky, so he bought a red one. But then there’s the law of the universe - red and green must never be seen…so after he hit Chester’s car, the drunk driver drove off.
He remembers the leprechaun Brad bought him, the one that has a suction cup under its feet. Chester has shook his head, said there’d be no slobbery sucker-cup marks on his dash board. But he put it there anyway, for good luck.
The leprechaun was the last thing he saw before he shut his eyes, the wailing of sirens lulling him to sleep.
When he woke up he was in pain. But not in his legs, like he had anticipated. He remembers not being sure what to do. But people were being gentle, talking softly, as if he was feeling sad, rather than numb.
“How are you coping?”
“Fine.”
It’s a lie. In his dreams he is walking, but when he wakes up there’s nothing. He feels bad crying about it because the therapists are all right when they tell him that it could be worse - he could have died.
But he can’t walk. He can’t take a piss without help. He isn’t coping, but no amount of therapeutic talking will make him feel better.
“Really?” The therapist says, “Have you given any thought into learning to drive a hand-operated car? You’d be surprised how much freedom you gain from being able to drive on your own.”
Chester sighs, “Look. I wish I was one of those people who get all jazzed about the wheelchair Olympics but I’m not. I don’t want to drive again. I don’t want to do anything? Okay?”
The therapist sighs tiredly and Chester sits back in his chair, content to have beaten somebody else down to his way of thinking.
Rating PG?
Fandom Linkin Park
Prompt 014 Green
Words 375
Summary Some people just can't cope when things go wrong
“What else do you remember?” The therapist asks.
“The car was green. It was European.”
“What else.”
“Nothing else.”
Nothing else he wants to talk about, anyway. He remembers being grateful that he couldn’t feel anything from the waist down because he could see the way the metal was twisted around his legs. He remembers not being able to breathe because the steering wheel had crushed his ribs.
He remembers that somebody once told him green cars are unlucky, so he bought a red one. But then there’s the law of the universe - red and green must never be seen…so after he hit Chester’s car, the drunk driver drove off.
He remembers the leprechaun Brad bought him, the one that has a suction cup under its feet. Chester has shook his head, said there’d be no slobbery sucker-cup marks on his dash board. But he put it there anyway, for good luck.
The leprechaun was the last thing he saw before he shut his eyes, the wailing of sirens lulling him to sleep.
When he woke up he was in pain. But not in his legs, like he had anticipated. He remembers not being sure what to do. But people were being gentle, talking softly, as if he was feeling sad, rather than numb.
“How are you coping?”
“Fine.”
It’s a lie. In his dreams he is walking, but when he wakes up there’s nothing. He feels bad crying about it because the therapists are all right when they tell him that it could be worse - he could have died.
But he can’t walk. He can’t take a piss without help. He isn’t coping, but no amount of therapeutic talking will make him feel better.
“Really?” The therapist says, “Have you given any thought into learning to drive a hand-operated car? You’d be surprised how much freedom you gain from being able to drive on your own.”
Chester sighs, “Look. I wish I was one of those people who get all jazzed about the wheelchair Olympics but I’m not. I don’t want to drive again. I don’t want to do anything? Okay?”
The therapist sighs tiredly and Chester sits back in his chair, content to have beaten somebody else down to his way of thinking.