Slash, Fag and a Bottle of Scotch - Chapter 6
The pristine silver car pulled up outside the hospital and a nervous Chandler stepped out. The hospital seemed so daunting now, it's walls rocketing into the sky. For the second time that day, he parked his car in the same spot and continued into the double doors of what was becoming his least favourite place.
"I'm here to pick up Emerson Kent."
The receptionist typed something onto her screen and there was a 20 second wait while she found the right information.
"Ok, he's in the ICU so if you head down that corridor…"
"I know where it is." Chandler interrupted.
"Ok, well if you head there, someone will direct Mr. Kent in your direction."
After leaving the desk without another word, Chandler made his way to the ICU, continuously altering his pace. The thought of having Kent back where he could see him made Joe want to sprint down the white hallway, but every time he sped up the thought of the impending conversation slowed him back down again.
But thankfully… and unfortunately, he reached the door to the ICU.
He looked through the double windows and could see Kent trying to get ready to leave with a boyish charm. It looked like it was the first time he'd ever put trousers on. Chandler knew it was because he was in pain and part of him felt awful for smirking, but it did look funny. Thankfully a nurse helped him out before his smile had a chance to turn to a laugh. Giggling at grievously harmed patients… not good.
She was giving him crutches now and what looked like a crash course in invalid basics. At least Kent was trying not to smile. He hadn't lost his sense of humour, that was for sure. Of course, she knew it was all for nothing. Most people learn how to use crutches at school when the inevitable 'pass round the toys' session occurred every time someone hurt their ankle. It was protocol though, and the hospital was legally safe as long as she recited her safety speech.
Kent took the metal sticks from her and, escorted, made his way to the door. He was actually faster on the crutches, which was not good for Chandler. He quickly tried to think of something to say while the young man swung his way towards him. He'd be there any second and all Joe could think of was 'You look good on them.' Not something he could really say in front of the nurse, not that it was appropriate anyway.
"Hiya."
Damn, too late. Chandler straightened his tie and focused on Kent's eyes, being careful not to look for his wounds. "Hi. I've come to take you home."
Chandler was being a little too formal but Kent assumed it was probably for the nurses' benefit. "Oh, ok. Cool. I just have to go and be discharged and then we can go."
Joe followed the DC and Nurse down the corridor, slowing his pace to almost half the usual, having to account for Kent's … disadvantage. Kent looked back at Chandler. He was obviously dawdling and his eyes were focussed on the ground.
Kent felt bad for the DI having to accommodate him and sped up, trying to prove himself. But as they turned the corner, Kent misjudged his stride and as the crutch slipped from under his right hand, he felt himself being held up. He turned to see his saviour, but as his eyes rested on the arm that held him, he felt a pang of disappointment. Where he had hoped to see black sleeve of his DI, lay the white under layer of the nurse in scrubs. He steadied himself and looked back, embarrassed, to Chandler. He wasn't looking at the floor anymore. Instead his outstretched hand was steadily retreating and the blue eyes met his own in a look of apology and sympathy. Kent turned back, satisfied by the fact that Joe had at least attempted to stop him whilst Chandler's thoughts turned to regret as he knew he hadn't really tried. Of course, his instinct had been to reach out for him, but something stopped him. At least the nurse was there to remedy his lack of action.
Finally they reached the reception desk and Kent was released back into the big bad world. Making their way to Chandler's car, a thought struck Kent. The journey was going to be agony. Sitting down was just barely doable but the various road bumps were going to make it excruciating.
As he slowly lowered himself in, Joe called out for him to stop as he rounded the car to the boot. Opening with a soft woosh only associated with cars of a certain quality, the boot rushed skyward and Chandler's face disappeared… only to re-emerge seconds later with a cushion that could match his torso in size. Kent's surprised look prompted Joe's explanation. "In case of emergencies."
Kent was going to enquire what sort of emergency would require a moderately sized cushion, but his mind connected with a distant memory of Chandler resting in his car during the ripper case. It didn't really matter anyway. Chandler's thinking ahead had save his backside a bucket load of pain.
"Thanks." Kent awkwardly took the cushion and placed it on the passenger seat, uncomfortable of the fact he was about to sit of the beautiful fabric.
The car journey was a long and silent one. Neither man knew what to say to each other after the recent events and neither wanted to be the first to experiment.
Kent felt like a child on a booster seat with his added height. His head was about the same height as Chandler's now and it took him back to the journeys he used to take with his mum, pretending to drive despite the lack of steering wheel. He almost wanted to outstretch his hands and grasp the invisible wheel once more.
With relative comfort the journey continued until at last the streets were familiar once more and every turn off was a countdown to his own street. The green door soon came into view and Kent felt a surge of pleasant familiarity. Chandler effortlessly pulled into the space outside Kent's little house and quickly exited his own side to assist his wounded passenger from his.
"Careful."
Kent looked like a baby deer trying to stand for the first time as he lifted his pelvis from the seat and proceeded to shimmy out. His head came out last and as he stood Joe thrust the crutches he'd retrieved from the backseat at him. With a little nod of awkward appreciation, Kent made his way to his front door.
Chandler watched the young DC swing his way to little house as he locked his car. He would need to go in after him, to comfort him; talk to him, but as he thought his eyes drifted down to where Kent's wounds were and he shuddered. He wasn't sure which emotion took precedence. The one where he felt completely at home and safe with the brown eyed bambi that was his … well ... boyfriend or the one that made him physically recoil every time he thought of another man touching him. His mind was in turmoil and as he tried to straighten out his thoughts a soft voice called him.
"You coming?"
Joe held his hand up, signalling that he'd be a minute and turned back to his car. He tried to make it look as if he was doing something while he took several deep breathes and tried to banish the urge to jump in and drive away. He looked back at the house Kent had just entered, and taking the opportunity, reached into his pocket and pulled out his beloved Tiger Balm. He rushed the application, not wanting Kent to see him and, replacing it in his pocket, walked slowly towards the door.
Kent's home was ...cozy, to say the least. He'd been there many times, of course but this time felt different. Felt… constricting. He made his way to the living room and, laying eyes on the couch that was too big for the little room, memories flooded in.
He saw the two of them sitting side by side, Kent's woolly hair under chin as the young man snuggled up to him. He couldn't remember what they were watching. A film of some sort, one that didn't really interest Chandler. Well, not as much as watching Kent anyway. His baby face contorted and frowned when he was unsure of something. Even when something gruesome happened, despite being a DC and used to it. He could only see the half of Kent's face, the way it was angled on his chest, but half was enough. His eyes lit up and widened every time the movie took an unexpected turn and that grin that spread across his face filled Joe with pride and love for the man that was all his.
Joe had slept over that night, not needing to be in particularly early the next day, as was becoming the norm now. He even had his own drawer and bathroom kit permanently there. Kent would come over to his place sometimes too, but Chandler much preferred to see the DC in his natural environment. Besides, he didn't have to tell Kent off for moving things there.
"Do want a cuppa?"
Kent's soft tone seeped into Chandler's daydream and the DI turned round. As he took in the figure in the doorway, the memory seemed distant. Reality was ruining the moment, and as Chandler made his way to the kitchen, something stopped him once more from nearing Kent any further. The memories that had just sweetened his brain had vanished completely now, replaced with gruesome images of what Joe had imagined to be the attack. He couldn't help lowering his gaze and mentally picturing the slash wounds that would no doubt be there forever.
"I…" Chandler tried to purge the images. Banish them from his mind and memory. He wanted nothing more than to stride forward and sweep his boyfriend off his feet and back to couch he held so dear. But he just… couldn't. He felt like screaming. The ambivalence was ripping him apart. He felt like his insides were on fire. The memories he had spent so long acquiring were slowly becoming obsolete in the struggle. His hands itched. His legs felt weak. He had to get out.
"I have to get back." He managed to push a few words out, trying to be gentle with the obviously disappointed DC. He just needed time, space. To think. To … come to terms with it. He wanted to say all this aloud. Reassure the young man that his feelings hadn't changed. He still loved him like the day they met. But his tongue felt like a lead weight in his mouth and his words slurred. "I'm sorry. I have to fix this."
Kent stood in the doorway, the empty mug hanging from his right crutch. Watching the DI leave, thoughts began to clutter his mind as his eyes slowly welled.