We Made it Through the Rain, Chapter Two
Title: We Made it Through the Rain
Author: tcs1121
Artist: bluefire986
Characters and Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Felicia Day, DJ Qualls, Chad Michael Murry, Misha Collins, Osric Chau, Jim Beaver, OCs
Cameos and mentions: Genevieve Cortese, Rob Benedict, Alona Tal, Aliana Huffman, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Bryan Norcross
Rating: NC-17
Genre: J2 AU, hurt/comfort. Timestamp to my 2019 Big Bang Marconi Plays the Mamba. This timestamp is pure, self-indulgent, Jensen hurt/Jared comfort.
Word Count: ~30,120
Beta: kee, who understands me and makes me better. Cheers to us, bb!
Warnings: H/C with an NC-17 rating (and some humor)
Disclaimer: Untrue story. Character names are being used without permission. No money changes hands.
A/N 1. I suggest you read Marconi Plays the Mambafor the full context. It's a fun story. Some of the early dialogue is straight from Marconi, but this story is from Jared's point of view.
A/N 2. This is Jensen's rescue plus the four-month recovery/rehab left out of the original story. It is all Hurt!Jensen/Caring!Jared all the time.
A/N 3. This timestamp begins during the storm, seconds before the defenestration. I can't help it. I love that word and I probably won't ever be able to use it in a story again.
Summary:
"I get congratulated for every little, normal thing, like getting toothpaste on my toothbrush instead of all over my clothes. I get recognized and thanked a dozen times a day, but Jared, you know what? I don't feel strong or brave, and I sure as hell don't feel lucky. I feel damaged, like, everywhere. Every piece of me is moving in a way that hurts. I don't deserve their appreciation, I don't want their platitudes, I just want to be normal and not broken all to bits."
~~*~~*~~
Back to Chapter One
Jared and Chad were both right. Sort of.
Jared was right, in that Dr. Brown was called in early because of concerns regarding the circulation in Jensen's arm. The right elbow was so badly dislocated that the position and swelling were interfering with the blood flow to his hand. Turned out that Jensen's wrist and fingers on that side were also broken.
Chad was right, because Jensen's condition was stable. So stable that the surgeon didn't think he needed to wait any longer to begin the surgery.
Doc Brown met with them after the elbow surgery and said that the femur would be next while Jensen was still out.
"Don't worry," the doctor said, clapping Jared on the shoulder. "Your friend flew right through this one. I have no reason to expect that the open reduction-the repair of the thigh bone-will be any different."
That was two hours and an empty waiting room ago. One-by-one, Jensen's friends and Jared's crew filed into the surgical waiting area.
Felicia brought food, Osric brought a couple of laptops and iPhones to keep people occupied with YouTube, Candy Crush and Reddit.
At the three-and-a-half-hour mark, a young woman in a white lab jacket with the name S.J. Smith embroidered on the pocket entered the waiting room. The room fell silent.
"Jared Padalecki?" S.J. swiveled her head around the room. Her expression gave nothing away.
Ice water ran through Jared's veins as he stood. Until then, he hadn't realized how hard it was to keep his knees from buckling.
"I'm Jared."
She smiled tightly. "Come with me, the doctor wants to speak with you."
Felicia shot to her feet. "Is everything okay?"
"Is Jensen all right?" Chad raised his voice. "Please tell us."
S.J. smiled, a little more genuinely this time, and said, "He's out of surgery and in recovery. Mr. Padalecki, you can come with me."
It was all a blur until he was in the doctor's office. Dr. Brown entered and sat behind the desk, still in his surgical scrubs.
"Hi, again, Jared. Jensen pulled through the second surgery like a trooper. I lined up the broken femur and used a series of rods and pins to maintain the alignment so his leg will heal properly. I have no reason to believe there will be any complications, but," the surgeon smiled, gently. "we must always cross our fingers."
"That's great. That's really great." Jared released his breath. But didn't relax yet. "Will you have to go back in and take out the pins when the bones are all healed?"
"No. After the bone's healed, he won't know they're there, so we leave them in. While everything is going as well as can be expected…"
Jared flinched, but the doctor didn't notice.
"…I'm going to give you the full update."
"Okay."
"As Dr. Whovian explained, surgery was needed to stop the bleeding and repair the damage to Jensen's spleen. As he also told you, injuries from the fall caused some chest bleeding with a hemothorax, and that, too has been repaired. The good news is, it doesn't look like there are any complications from those procedures. On the orthopedic side, we had a team of surgeons working on him in the OR to minimize time under anesthesia. We have an excellent team and they all do meticulous work."
Dr. Brown gave Jared a reassuring look.
"So," the doctor fired up his computer. "Jensen sustained a set of pelvic fractures due to the force of the impact. Because the pelvis is shaped like a pretzel, it's near impossible to break it in one place without breaking it in another. So, at the bottom-most portion of the pelvis, two fractures were identified. This will cause some temporary pelvic instability and a fair amount of discomfort, but no surgery is needed."
"It'll heal on its own?"
"Yes. The pelvis will heal without our help." The doctor removed his surgical cap. "We found that his left ankle was fractured, his right wrist and the four fingers of his right hand were also broken. We set the ankle, wrist and fingers. His right knee was badly dislocated. We braced it, but he'll definitely need surgery on that, soon. As you know, we surgically realigned his right elbow this morning. He has three broken ribs on the right, one of which, we believe, caused the chest bleeding. The ribs are all lined up now and will heal on their own. There are skin abrasions mostly to his right side, and an indication of a mild traumatic brain injury…"
"Oh, God." Jared dropped his head into his hands. He was hanging in there pretty well with the litany of Jensen's injuries, but when the doctor said brain injury, all Jared saw, in his mind's eye, was the swelling and the blood on Jensen's face.
"Hey, Jared, hey. It's not as bad as it sounds. There are no brain bleeds-I think Dr. Whovian told you that-and the concussion should heal on its own within a few of weeks. He'll have headaches for a while, mood swings due to the concussion and maybe temporary memory loss, but, with time, he should be fine."
"Are you sure? Please be sure."
Doctor Brown paused, "I can't make any guarantees."
Jared took a moment to steady his emotions. "I know. I know."
He took in a lungful of air. "You've been making it sound like Jensen is waltzing through all these operations. There's got to be a flip side."
The doctor held Jared's eye with his. "Yes. There's a flip side. That's why I wanted to talk to you."
"Give me everything you've got. I need to know what we're in for, because he and I? We're in this together."
"I'm glad. Jensen's going to need physical and emotional support in the months to come. I wasn't exaggerating when I said how well Jensen has tolerated the surgeries, because he has. But he was badly injured and he'll need more operations before we're through with him. We will be on the lookout for injuries we may have missed, and be alert to bleeding, respiratory issues, and infection, which is always a huge possibility when injuries were sustained on a wet ground. Dirt, debris and other elements Jensen was subjected to, including the surgeries themselves could source infections. After he's stable and strong enough, he'll need an intensive stay at a rehab center to heal, get stronger, keep his pain managed, and to remain as flexible and mobile as possible. Make no mistake, Jensen has a long road ahead of him."
"Doctor Brown, with all the broken bones, surgeries, and upcoming surgeries, do you know if he will," Jared swallowed. "Will Jensen walk again?"
Doc Brown looked at Jared as though he was weighing his words. "I'm very optimistic that he will, but we don't know what obstacles lie in the road to his recovery. I do believe that with care, diligence, and hard work, he will heal and walk on his own again."
Jared blew out some air. "Good, that's good. 'Cause I wouldn't want to haul his heavy ass around everywhere." He looked up. "But I would. In fact, I would get him the hottest, sexiest, baddest ass set of wheels and detail them myself. "
"I'm glad," the surgeon smiled. "Do you have any more questions for me?"
"Of course I do, a whole ton of questions, but you've answered the most important ones for now." Jared stood. "Thank you. Thank you for all you've done."
"In my heart, I believe that Jensen saved lives last night. It was the least I could do to thank him for that." Doc Brown stood and opened the door. "You can go see him when he's out of recovery and in the ICU. You can stay as long as you want as there's no visiting hour limit for close family."
"There isn't?"
"It's been proven that patients heal quicker, do better and stress is decreased when a loved one is nearby. I don't expect a long stay at the surgical ICU, though, and Jensen will be sleeping through it, so after a quick check, you might want to wait until he's set up in his own room before camping out. There's even a pull-out bed for you. In the meantime, you can update his family and friends, get what you need from home, and then come back and stay for a while."
Jared smiled a watery smile. "All this and a Starbuck's too."
"If you've got to be in a hospital," the doctor gave another clap to Jared's shoulder, "this is the one to be in. I'll get Marty, my assistant, to show you where the ICU is, and then get you back to your friends."
"Thank you. Thank you, again."
"You're welcome. Make sure you take care of yourself, Jared. You're no good to him if you crash and burn."
"I know and I will."
The doctor leaned out of his office door. "Marty, take Jared to the ICU, please. And then show him how to get back to the main waiting room." He smiled over at Jared. "Tell Jared he can come back any time, and give him a map of the place."
"Okie doke, Doc." A young man with an apparent overload of energy bounced on his toes waiting for Jared to join him.
The surgical ICU was a lot calmer and quieter than Jared expected it to be. He was led over to a corner cubical where Jensen lay sleeping. He was hooked up to a bunch of machines with a myriad of wires, draining tubes, and IVs snaking all around him. But this time, all Jared concentrated on was Jensen's sweet face, now cleaned of blood and looking less swollen. He was still on the ventilator but there was a peace to his breathing, and Jensen's stillness spoke to Jared more of comfort rather than injury.
"Hey, Jensen. I'm only going to stay for a minute, because you need your beauty sleep, but I want you to know that I'm here and I'm going to be here for the long haul. The doctors say you're doing really well and I believe them. It may not be a walk in the park, but they think that someday you'll be able to walk in the park." Jared took hold of Jensen's left hand, "And you and me? Barring any further derechos, we will weather this storm together."
"So, the docs say you should be waking up soon." Jared re-twined his fingers with Jensen's unbroken ones. "They've been telling me to keep talking to you, too. Like you know how hard it is for me to talk, right? So, I'll tell you right now that we are not in trouble with the station executives or the FCC. We could have been, since, you know, we did hijack the station and all." He brought his lips close to Jensen's ear and whispered conspiratorially, "And that was way cool."
Jensen's head was bandaged and both of his eyes were bruised black. He had a nasal cannula delivering oxygen and IVs delivering who knows what all. There was a brace on his right knee and some kind of immobilizer on his right elbow. His right wrist was in a blue plaster cast that extended to include his broken fingers. Jared couldn't take his eyes off him because Jensen, alive and breathing on his own, was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"One of the reasons that we're not in hot water is because Misha was able to get the WNBC national News in New York City to carry your reporting live, and Osric hacked into the Emergency Broadcast System to get you on people's radios, computers and phones- I don't know how he did it, and he probably should be in jail."
Jared brushed his knuckles against Jensen's cheek. "We are not only not in trouble, we're kind of heroes, except," Jared's voice faltered, "except we all know who the real hero is. Can you please, please open your eyes, now?"
Jared instantly regretted asking that, as Jensen's eyes shot open. He looked around wildly, and tried sitting up.
Jared quickly got one arm around Jensen to keep him still, and used the other to reach the call button. "Easy Jensen, don't move. Everything's okay. You're okay."
Jensen's body jackknifed in what looked like pain, as tears tracked down his cheeks.
The machines monitoring Jensen wailed and alarms beeped.
Jared spoke in his ear. "Jensen, you're fine. I'm here. Jensen?"
Jensen went rigid in Jared's arm, and he whimpered pathetically.
"Help!" Jared screamed. "We need help in here!"
Jared held Jensen close as the medical team rushed in. "Jen? It's me, it's Jay." Jared tried not to panic. "Can you hear me? Try to take it easy, okay? Be easy. Jensen, be easy." Jared squeezed his hand before being shuttled away by the staff.
"What's happening? What's happening to him?" Jared struggled to peer around the doctors and nurses who now surrounded Jensen's bed.
"Give us a minute, Jared." The nurse with the pink hair said gently but firmly. "He woke up too fast, that's all."
"Are you sure? Are you sure?"
It took several minutes, but when it was over, Jensen was settled and sleeping soundly. It would have looked like nothing had happened except there were drying tear trails down both of Jensen's cheeks. The med team left almost as quickly as they arrived with two of the nurses staying behind to further settle their patient.
"Don't worry, he's going to be okay." Nurse Pink-he really should ask her name-said, soothingly. "Sometimes patients come alert too quickly and they're disoriented. Jensen didn't know he was hurt and he moved when he shouldn't have."
"Will it happen again? Please don't let it happen again." Jared caught his breath. "Was it me? Was it because I was talking to him? Was it because I asked him to open his eyes? Oh, God! It was me. I did that."
"You did nothing wrong. If he heard you, and I'm thinking he did, I'll bet it was a soothing balm to his soul to hear your voice."
"You think so?"
"I do."
"Then I'll talk slowly to him. Not be so pushy about getting him to wake up." A thought occurred to him.
"Hey, Jensen opened his eyes."
"Yep, and he'll be waking up for-real soon." She smiled and patted Jared on the shoulder. "Keep talking to him. Keep him entertained." Her nurse's shoes squeaked as she walked away.
Jared sat down next to the bed. "Did you hear that, Jense? I'm supposed to keep you entertained."
With Jensen breathing, opening his eyes and moving (even though he didn't look happy doing it) Jared was finally able to take an optimistic breath. He reached for Jensen's hand and said, "So, I'll stay here keepin' the faith."
And, of course, he had to sing Billy Joel into Jensen's ear until Jared, himself, dozed off.
Something woke Jared up.
Talk about disoriented. He was dreaming of giant wind turbines.
Listening carefully, he noticed that Jensen's breathing pattern had changed. He wasn't imagining it because Jared had become quite familiar with Jensen's breathing, inhaling and exhaling with him to make sure Jensen was getting enough oxygen through his nasal cannula.
Jensen's eyes were moving under his lids.
"That's it, babe. Try opening your eyes and I'll talk you through it. Keep listening to my voice, okay?" Jared moved his lips scant inches from Jensen's ear. "Can you hear me, Jen?"
Jensen's eyes opened a crack, and a look of terror washed over him.
"It's okay. You're safe. We're safe." Jared held tight to Jensen's hand.
It looked like it took a Herculean effort, but Jensen finally got his eyes all the way open and zeroed them on Jared.
"There you are," Jared said, but Jensen's eyes began drifting closed.
"Hey, hey Jensen. Can you hear me now?"
This time Jensen's eyes stayed open. Not all the way, but he swallowed twice and uttered what sounded like, " Ver…n?"
Jared aimed a bendy straw at Jensen's mouth and he sipped. Jared asked softly, "How about now? Can you hear me now?"
Jensen nodded and mouthed a word. Jared brought his ear down close.
"Verizon." Jensen nodded again. "Can you hear me now?"
Jensen's voice sounded awful and wonderful. Awful because it sounded like he was talking with glass shards lining his throat, and wonderful because Jensen was awake, alive, and speaking in commercials.
Like a bolt of lightning, the enormity of what happened shot through him. Jensen could have died. He almost did. That fact not only broke Jared's heart, it pissed him off royally.
His emotions obliterated what little stoicism he had left, and Jared broke down, sobbing like a three-year-old.
"You promised, Jensen. You promised. I will if you will you said. Well I did and you didn't. When Alaina called me into her office to ream me out over the live-stream hijacking, I told her I wasn't going in, and that if I were her, I'd get to the console room immediately."
Jensen stared at Jared, blinking.
"You bet your ass I did, and, no, she didn't like it, but she came. It was a good thing, too, because one of the station's landscaped Magnolia trees exploded through her window and impaled itself on her desk chair. Glass was fucking everywhere. And do you know why I didn't get hurt? Do you know why? I didn't get hurt because I stuck to the deal. I didn't go into her office where there were windows."
Jared waited because Jensen began shaking, holding tighter to Jared's hand. Jensen had tears of his own in the corners of his eyes. Jared wiped the tears from his own face and dropped his head. "You didn't stick to the deal and we almost lost you.
"We almost lost you." Jared glanced at Jensen, "In fact, we did sort of lose you. If DJ hadn't slipped Scout's GPS into your pocket, they might have found you much later than they did."
Jensen cocked his head to the left, and Jared interpreted that to mean, What? Huh?
"Oh," Jared said. "After Scout got lost the last time, DJ bought a GPS locator for him to wear on his collar. DJ put it in your back pocket before he, Scout and Felicia went to safety in your ground floor bathtub."
Jensen's eyebrows knitted together.
"Yeah, they're fine. Covered in goose down, but waiting downstairs to hear how you're doing, like the rest of the country. Do you remember us finding you?"
Jensen shook his head, no.
Jared took a moment to breathe. Jensen was breathing heavily, and Jared gently wiped the moisture from Jensen's eyes with the pads of his thumbs.
They looked at each other with watery affection.
Jensen tried clearing his throat. Jared held the straw out to him, but he waved it away.
"How bad?" Jensen asked.
Still awful, still wonderful.
"Lots of property damage, several low-lying areas got hit with flash flooding, and a small tornado touched down in Gulf Beach Park. Some people got hurt, but no deaths. Not one."
It was like a bad dream Jared was still waking up from. "Almost one, Jensen. Almost you. Why didn't you move to safety? Why?"
And Toddler Jared's eyes were watering again.
"Sorry. I'm sorry."
Jensen's voice was weak and he was losing the battle to keep his eyes open. "Jay?"
"Go to sleep." Jared stroked Jensen's hair. "I'll let people know you're awake, and then I'll be back. I'll be right back."
Jensen was snoring lightly and Jared leaned down to kiss the top of his head. Jared took a selfish moment to look at Jensen, sleeping peacefully, and thanked Saint Medardus for watching out for him.
Saint Medardus. Patron saint of weathermen. He sure came in handy.
Jared stepped into the waiting room where his friends had been hanging out. Someone from both the WBB and the PMC camps were always there.
Osric hopped off the ottoman he was standing on. "Jared's here. Jared's back. Hey Jared. Hey."
All eyes turned to Jared. "He's awake and talking. Well, I mean, right now he's sleeping, but he was awake and he will be awake again. And talking. Again."
Big Jim Beaver bellowed out a huge breath. "Welp, that's good. That's real good. You tell that boy not to be so hard-headed next time. You tell 'im."
"You should probably tell him that yourself, Jim." Jared sat, as exhaustion was now winning over anxiety.
"You know, I might do that. I just might." Jim stood and stretched high. "He doing okay? You know when we might get to see him?"
"He's pretty beat up and talking isn't easy for him right now, but in a couple of days, I'll bet he'll be raring to see something other than my sorry mug."
"I'm good with that. I'll head on back and give the gang an update. You tell that idjit…" Jim trailed off and looked at the floor, swallowing hard. "You tell Jensen we're proud of his stupid, stubborn ass."
"I will."
Jim nodded once and left.
"Jared? Jared?" Osric hadn't stopped bouncing. "Tell him we're here. Tell him we're here for him. Tell him we miss him and we're sorry he's so hurt."
"I will, O. He'll be glad to know his friends are here and care so much."
"Then why are you sad? You said he was getting better." Osric rocked into Jared's personal space. "Why, Jared?"
"I'm not sad."
"Tears are on your face."
Again? Sheesh.
"I'm not sad," he repeated. "I'm just happy that he's awake and has such good friends."
"Okay then." Osric reached for his computer bag and bike helmet. "I'll go back and let everybody know that he's awake. You tell Jensen we love him, okay?"
Tired, happy, hormonal, Jared didn't know what was going on with him. He pressed his lips together to calm them and said, "I will. Bet on it."
The curtains were pulled back from the windows by Jensen's hospital bed. He was out of the ICU and this room was bright with natural light. All traces of the bad weather were gone.
Jared looked down at Jensen's bruised face. He was still on oxygen, and everywhere he looked, Jensen was bandaged, stitched, immobilized or plaster casted. His eyes were closed and each time Jared looked at him, Jensen was more beautiful than ever.
Christ on a cracker, he had it bad.
Jared sat in the chair on Jensen's left, took his hand and let his own eyes fall shut. The steady beeping and ambient hospital noises were calming after all the excitement. After several minutes, he felt a slight but definite pressure clasping his hand.
Jensen's eyes were open and clear, and better still, they looked at Jared with warm affection.
Jared squeezed back and reached for Jensen's water glass. "Hey, how're doing?"
Jensen sucked down a few mouthfuls of cool water.
"What happened to me?" Jensen asked.
"You got blown out of your house and landed in the back yard." Jared answered. "You were buried under the rubble, so we had to key in Scout's GPS code to find you."
Jensen's eyes widened in shock.
"Am I okay?"
"No."
"No?" The beeping started up in earnest and Jensen's breaths came in short, quick gasps.
In retrospect, Jared really could have said that better.
"Hold on, hold on. You're going to be okay. You're just not okay right now." Jared held onto Jensen's hand. "Here, breathe with me. In and out."
He put his hand on Jensen's chest and exaggerated a breath in and a breath out. "In and out."
"What?" Jensen followed Jared's breathing until he had enough air to ask: "What's not okay about me?"
Jared smoothed Jensen's hair away from his face. He stroked his cheek and kissed his hair. Jensen calmed and the machines quieted with every kiss.
Jensen lay back, staring up with big, green eyes in anticipation.
Jared smiled softly. "Jensen, when they found you,"
"So, how's Florida's favorite weatherman? I'm Doctor Brown, one of your orthopedic surgeons. We haven't been formally introduced, but I know you pretty well." Doctor Brown came in with a laptop on wheels and was currently pulling up what appeared to be Jensen's medical information.
Jensen turned to Jared and mouthed, "Doc Brown?"
"Yeah," Jared stood. "He's the one who pinned you back together."
"One of the surgeons. You've had quite a team working on you, son." Doc Brown said, kindly. He sat at eye level with Jensen. "First, you're a very lucky man. You sustained impact injuries from a defenestration from the second story and impact injuries caused by falling and blowing debris."
Jensen looked confused and turned to Jared.
The doctor clarified. "You got blown out of a window from your top floor, landed in your back yard, and stuff hit you while you were falling and stuff fell on top of you after you landed,"
Jared lay his hand on Jensen's shoulder and stroked in comforting circles.
"Now, let's see." Doc Brown clicked through the reports in front of him. Jared kept an easy, slow circular rhythm.
"Your pelvis is fractured in two places. Your left ankle is also broken." The doctor looked up and smiled. "Another way of saying broken bone is fracture. They mean the same thing and a fracture isn't worse than a break."
He cursored down the screen. "Your right femur-that's your thigh bone-is also fractured and your right knee was dislocated. Your right elbow needed surgical realignment, and your right wrist, and three of the four fingers on your right hand were broken."
Doc Brown looked up and slid his reading glasses down. "You took a lot of damage on that right side."
He pushed his glasses back up. "You have three cracked ribs, also on the right, and a concussion resulting in a mild closed head injury. Internal damage was done to your spleen and right lung, and you sustained a mean case of road rash," he looked up. "And that will hurt. We surgically reduced the femur fracture and used pins and rods so it would heal properly. We set the bones in your ankle and wrist and fingers. We braced your right knee, but you'll need surgery on that soon. Your pelvis and ribs will heal on their own."
During the long dissertation of the injuries, Jensen's in and out, in and out, went quicker and quicker. "Wow," he panted when the doctor finished. "I'm a mess."
Jared brushed his hand through Jensen's hair and thought, "In no universe are you a mess."
Christ on a cracker.
"There is good news, though," the doctor said. "There was no damage to your spine, no lasting effects from the head injury are expected and all internal injuries are expected to heal without complications. As a bonus, not a mark on your face. Twelve stitches at the hairline, but even those will be invisible with time."
Jensen paled ever slightly when he asked, "Will I walk again?"
"Yes. It's going to take time and work, but we expect you to be back on both feet again. Mr. Ackles, you were badly hurt, but you're young and strong, and have friends and support. No one can predict your prognosis with certainty, but we expect all positive outcomes."
"Good, I think. Thank you." Jensen's voice was thin.
"How's the pain?"
"Not bad."
"Until he tried to sit up," Jared interjected.
Jensen looked like he wanted to rebut, but when he looked at Jared, his features softened and his eyes shone.
Jared cheered internally. He's got it as bad as I do.
Dr. Brown caught and held Jensen's eye. "Be honest about the pain, son. We can and should control it for now. Please let the nurses know when you need relief. I'll give you something in your IV now and I'll be checking on you later this evening."
He unlocked a cabinet and measured an amount of medication into Jensen's IV.
"Thank you, doctor," said Jensen.
"Thanks, doc," said Jared as the doctor left the room and shut the door.
"The way I look at it, I can still forecast the weather. In fact, I might be able to predict the weather just with my bones alone." He smiled feebly at Jared.
"My house didn't get hit hard. We didn't get a full-on blast in Parkbridge. I'd like it if you came home with me after your stay in rehab. I have wide doorways and wide hallways big enough for your temporary wheelchair. I have that big guest bedroom on the ground floor with an attached bathroom that we could modify."
"Oh," Jensen's face fell. "The guest bedroom, huh?"
Jared shot Jensen his winning smile. "The guest bedroom that we can modify into a master bedroom."
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
Was Jensen actually asking that? What a maroon.
"Of course, I do. After all, there's something I haven't told you yet." In fact, this next piece of information was literally hot off the press. He couldn't wait to let Jensen know that a ceremony was being planned for him in his honor.
"No more surprises. I don't think I can take any more surprises."
"Sorry, but you have to know that when Misha ran the live feed through the major NBC network to the entire country, you became America's New Darling."
"Please say that's not true."
"Well, that's what I call you."
"Please don't."
"All of America heard you warning the city about the derecho. Live. You were live when you asked about my safety. That's how I was able to be your significant other and allowed to be here with you right now. Can we start using the term "boyfriend" now, please?"
"Yes, we can."
"Good, because I already have. You were live on the air the whole time and that meant everybody heard when you," Jared stopped and caught his breath. "You were live when the storm got you."
Jensen took Jared's hand.
"You generated a lot of public concern when it came to finding you and getting you out. I'm warning you now, because pretty soon this whole hospital will be filled with Get Well Soon balloons, flowers, candy and toys. Felicia's been fielding all your calls."
"How long did it take to find me?"
"Thanks to Scout and DJ we knew right where you were buried in the rubble. Getting you out safely took a little doing, especially since the storms were still in progress. Most of your rescue was on the local air, live, with the WBB news crew."
"Crap." Jensen's voice took on a calm, floaty quality. "Am I on a cloud?"
"No, you're not on a cloud. Take a look here." Jared opened the top three buttons of his shirt. "Saint Medardus. I'm wearing him and thanking him for you."
He reached over and stroked the medal Jared held, and gave him a drooly smile.
Jared knew that the drugs were hitting so he added quickly, "When you wake up, I have one more piece of news for you, and I'm sure you're going to like it. "
"Huh? Wha's'zit?"
"I'll tell you later, and, if you're good, and if they let me, I'll sneak you in a salad from Bread Zeppelin. Go to sleep."
A soft touch at his hairline, a soft kiss at his temple and Jensen was out for the count.
The crew from WBB and PMC were crowding around Jensen's hospital bed when Jared arrived. It was late afternoon, and he had gone home to run couple of errands. Jared knew that he had been monopolizing Jensen's time and that he had to give some of it up to Jensen's friends.
"Now I'm not telling you this so you get a big head or anything," Rob was looking down at Jensen, "but the day after the derecho, our ratings went through the roof."
"That's right!" Alona said. "Not only were the ratings sky high, but our phones were ringing off the hook with viewers wanting to know how you were and to wish you well."
"Yeah," Rob said. "And not only locally, but from all across the country."
"We even got a call from Canada," Alona said proudly.
A pink blush ran up Jensen's pale cheeks.
"Phones don't have hooks anymore." Osric said as he bounced up and down in the corner. "And the close door button on elevators don't work."
"They don't?" Alona blinked her pretty eyes.
"Nope, and they haven't for a long time. The keep door open buttons work though," Osric said, nodding. "Firefighters can close an elevator door manually if they have to."
Misha was sitting silently, holding Jensen's hand when Jensen noticed Jared in the doorway.
One look and Jared knew what to do.
He smiled, clapped his hands softly and said, "Visiting hours are over for everybody but me."
One by one, they filed out. Both Alona and Misha kissed Jensen's cheek as they left.
Jared lowered his voice, dimmed the lights, and closed the shades.
"Better?"
"A little." Jensen cleared his throat. "I thought the leg was going to be the problem. Concussions suck big time. Who knew that clicking a light on would burn my skull from the inside out, or turning too quick would make my brains melt out of my ears?"
Jared smiled, gently. "Doc Brown said that the worst of the pain should go away soon." He reached for the call button. "Shall I call a nurse?"
Between the headaches and the abraded skin, which the physicians said was akin to second-degree burns, various pain-relieving medications were a necessity even if they only took the painful raw edges off, because, right now, most of Jensen's waking hours were a misery.
"Naaw, you're here, so I'm feeling better already." Jensen worked up a weak but genuine smile which managed to melt Jared's heart.
"I'm jealous you let Misha hold your hand." Jared sat and began massaging Jensen's temples. "He even kissed you on the way out."
Jensen heaved a relieved sigh and closed his eyes. "Misha is surprisingly soothing. There's something magically Zen about him."
"There must be since we used his son's cheesy slogan for the PMC Company."
Jensen snorted then grimaced. "Ouch. Stop it. No jokes. No laughing, and, God forbid, no sneezing." Jensen cracked an eyelid open, "I was ready to shove an ice pick through my eye after that exploding pepper package debacle."
"Jensen. What did we say about self-lobotomizing?"
Jensen snickered then grabbed his head with his left. "No. No jokes. Stop, stop."
"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry." Jared softened his voice and scooted up on the bed. "I'm really sorry." He kissed up Jensen's neck. "Shh, shh, I won't do it again." He worked his way over to put his arms around him and kept nuzzling Jensen's hair until he relaxed down into Jared's arms.
Jared wrapped him close and simply held him.
"I'm sorry," Jensen said after the pain eased. "I'm sorry I'm such a baby." He snuggled closer, and Jared held tighter.
"You're not a baby and don't be sorry."
A soft exhale was all Jared heard. He kissed the top of Jensen's head. "How does your back feel? Do you want me to put some of that Lidocaine burn cream on it for you?"
"No, thanks. Lying here like this, everything feels much better."
"Have you eaten? Are you drinking enough? Do you need donuts or pancakes or a Big Mac?" As Jared spoke, he stroked Jensen's arm. "Maybe ten or twelve down pillows and a fluffy comforter?"
"No, just you." With his eyes closed, Jensen smiled softly. "You're all I need. I always feel better with you here. You're kind of magically Zen yourself."
"Then I'll stay." Jared massaged Jensen's shoulders with a feather touch. "But I'm beginning to like the idea of pillows, donuts, and Big Macs."
Jensen let out a relieved groan. "That, what you're doing, that feels so good. And your voice, it's so good. You are so good." His breathing evened out, but Jensen wasn't asleep. "You're so, so good to me."
Jared found a tight spasm in Jensen's left shoulder and used his fingers to gently work it out.
Jensen moaned in relief for several minutes then edged back. He looked up blearily and said, "You're the best. You know that?" Then dropped full weight onto Jared's chest. Jared gathered him close.
"No, you are." Jared wanted to hold him tight and never let go, but he didn't want to hurt Jensen's arm, or leg, or knee, or ribs, or … "Have I told you lately that I love you?"
"Van Morrison or Rod Stewart?" Jensen mumbled into Jared's shirt.
"Well, that would be a tough call," Jared lay his cheek on the top of Jensen's head, "except it's neither. It's how I feel."
Jensen smiled against Jared's chest. "I'm a lucky guy."
Jared found that unexpectedly touching, so he blinked his eyes, held on to Jensen, and thanked St. Medardus again and again that Jensen was alive, and drooling on him.
Christ on a cracker.
Physical therapy came for Jensen.
It took two of them to transfer Jensen and arrange him comfortably in a high-back reclining wheelchair with his braced right knee straight. He'd had surgery on that knee two days ago and no weight bearing whatsoever was allowed.
To the therapists' credit, they told Jensen what they were going to do and what they wanted him to do to help. They were cheerful, upbeat and efficient.
Jensen, to his credit, bit his lip, closed his eyes, and followed their instruction mostly by using his left arm and hand.
It was an arduous task, and it was obvious that Jensen's cracked pelvis was making an appearance, as every move looked as though it hurt to sit.
Jared stood next to Jensen as they prepared for their journey to the elevator and the three floors down.
"Hey, Jared?" Jensen's voice was weak just from getting into the wheelchair.
Jared knelt down so he was eye level. "What's up?" He brushed an imaginary strand of hair away from Jensen's eye.
"It's not that I don't want you there, but I'd like to do this first session alone. Don't be upset, okay?"
Don't be upset?
"I won't ever be upset as long as I get to be here when you come back. After all, you're coming home with me someday."
"You say that now but you have no idea how I'm going to renovate the guest bedroom."
"Master bedroom, and you got it."
Even though the therapists were waiting, Jared took his time. "I want you to know that I'll back you up with anything you want. I'll be wherever you need me to be. You don't have to be a hero on my account, or anyone's account. You already have that title."
"I'm no hero."
"You are to me." Jared worked up his dimples and hoped they did the trick.
Jensen used his good hand to touch Jared's face and trace his lips. "I love you, you know."
"Back at'cha. I'll be here waiting."
"Okay, let's get this show on the road," short, blonde physical therapist said, smiling.
Jared held himself back from supporting Jensen's head, cradling Jensen's injured right arm, and telling the therapy staff for God's sake don't hurt him!
Jared probably looked a little rough, because tall, bald physical therapist smiled kindly and said, "Don't worry, we'll bring him back in one piece."
Jensen's eyes silently sought out Jared's, and with much effort, Jensen brought his casted hand up and raised his thumb.
Jared raised both of his and watched them wheel Jensen away.
"Jayman!"
Jared entered the bullpen at the WBB studio. It seemed like ages since he'd been there. The building has sustained some damage, but everything was dry now, the broken windows were replaced, and PMC had a job to finish.
"Hey, Chad." Jared sat at a terminal and was satisfied that the computer screen was no longer a steady blue. "How close are we to being done here?"
"We are rock steady. Launch code is T minus nine. We should be dusting it off and packing it up by the end of next week."
"That's great, man. All the numbers are stacking up?"
"So far, it's looking good. Soon, PMC will have a successful new product launch, and after lift-off, we say good bye for now to WBB. It's crunch time which is why I haven't been able to visit your boy."
Jared activated the touch screen, absently finger brushing the hair out of his eyes while staring at the computer.
"Holy Moly, man, you look wrecked." Chad lowered his voice. "How is Jensen? Is he doing okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. They're going to be discharging him tomorrow to what they call a step-down facility."
"That's good, right? That means he doesn't need to be in the hospital anymore. That's good. Right?" Chad asked. "Uh, what's a step-down?"
"They're going to be sending Jensen to a rehab facility. He's no longer in the danger zone health-wise and his vitals are strong. They say it's time to get him up and moving. I don't know how they plan on doing that since he's partial weight-bearing on his left ankle and non-weight bearing on his entire right leg. He can't use his right arm for anything and his ribs, pelvis, road burn and concussion make everything he moves, hurt."
"Jared, you know that…"
"Why can't they just let him rest and recover and feel warm and safe and comfortable and not be in any fucking pain?" Jared's voice grew louder and higher until his voice caught at the end. "Why can't they leave him the hell alone for a few goddamn days?"
"Do you know where they're sending him?" Chad kept his voice low, which Jared wasn't used to.
"North of here, to a place in Palm Haven called Bay Sun Rehabilitation Center. It's a forty-five minute drive, so he's not that far away."
"Jared, you know that they have to get him going."
"I don't know why it has to hurt. He's on pain killers but they only scratch the surface. Everything, every movement hurts him and I feel-I feel like it's on me." Jared looked squarely at Chad. "I feel like it's all on me."
"The hell?" There's the voice Chad always uses. "What do you mean it's on you? Did you throw him out the window?"
Jared shuddered at the image. "No, but I did the next best thing. I set it up so that he could broadcast that monster storm from his house. If I hadn't gone along with his stupid, stupid plan, he'd be fine. He'd be safe. He'd be unhurt."
"Shit, Jared, why the hell does your mind work like that?"
"Because he asked me to help. Jensen asked me to help him warn the people. If I'd said no-if I had said that I wouldn't be a part of his stupid, stupid plan, he wouldn't have been able to pull it off, and he would have taken cover like he was supposed to."
"He never would have forgiven you if you didn't help him." Chad leveled a stare. "And what you guys have? It'd be over."
"If it kept him safe and unhurt, I might have been willing to make that sacrifice."
"What if someone had died? Because it's likely that at least one of those kids who were caught in storm would have gotten killed if their teacher didn't do what Jensen said, exactly when he said it."
"I would have found a way to blame nature for that."
"No, you wouldn't."
"Yes, I would."
"No, you wouldn't, and Jensen wouldn't have either."
"No, he wouldn't." Jared hung his head. "It's not fucking right that the only one who got seriously hurt was the one who saved everybody else. How is that even fair?"
"It's not," Chad agreed. "Not even a little bit."
"I could tell he had a hard time in therapy today, but he didn't want to tell me. He doesn't ask me to come with him for his sessions and he never tells me how much he hurts, because he doesn't want me to feel bad. Chad, there are goddamn tear tracks, still wet on his face, when he's rolled back to his room. Who the fuck does he think he is?"
"He thinks he's the guy in love with you. Probably thanking all the saints his mother prays to, that you weren't hurt."
"Shut up, Chad."
"You know it's true."
"Shut the hell up. There's no way I'm worth that. Fucking microbursts." Jared's resolve was failing, and his eyes were burning. "Fucking down drafts, fucking shelf clouds and fucking, fucking laser doppler anemometers."
"I don't know what any of those things are, but I do know that Jensen thinks you are worth it. After what he's going through, don't second guess him, and don't "Shut-up, Chad," me."
Chad pretended to look at something on his iPad. Jared took stock of himself and had to admit that what Chad said was true. Jensen would have been devastated if he hadn't been able to broadcast the warnings and someone died.
An image of a dead teenager confirmed what Jared also knew. He wouldn't have been able to forgive himself either. But the truth of the situation remained that Jensen was suffering for them all.
"Not even a little bit fair," he whispered shaking his head.
"Agreed," Chad responded. "But, going to a step down, that's good, right? That means he doesn't need to be in the hospital anymore. That's good. Right?"
"Yeah, that is good." Jared forced a smile.
"They might be able to find the right positions, the right exercises and the right cocktail of pain killers for him while he's there, too. Did you ever think of that?"
"I had not."
Chad squinted up at him. "Then do so now."
"You're kinda smart sometimes."
"Don't let Osric hear you say that. I couldn't come close to the kung fu he used to get Jensen on the emergency broadcast system in four counties." Chad looked down at his iPad again. "I'm your friend, Jay. I'm here for you, so, whatever you need from me, the answer is yes. Even if it's a cold beer or a bad joke."
"I know that. I've always known that."
It took Jared a moment to compose himself, "So, PMC and WBB are playing nicely now, eh? I'll be glad when this project is over and we can have a little down time."
"That's if you call down time driving forty-five minutes to Palm Haven and forty-five minutes back." Chad looked at him sideways.
"Yep, that's what I call down time." Jared smiled for real this time. "But, come Monday, it'll be alright."
Chad beamed back, "And remember, it's always five o'clock somewhere."
"And you know," Jared shrugged, "with all of our running and all of our cunning, if we couldn't laugh, we would all go insane."
"Amen, Captain Jaybird." Chad shot him a smile. "Amen."
They nodded silently communicating in a way that only best friends for decades could understand.
On to Chapter Three
Author: tcs1121
Artist: bluefire986
Characters and Pairing: Jensen/Jared, Felicia Day, DJ Qualls, Chad Michael Murry, Misha Collins, Osric Chau, Jim Beaver, OCs
Cameos and mentions: Genevieve Cortese, Rob Benedict, Alona Tal, Aliana Huffman, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Bryan Norcross
Rating: NC-17
Genre: J2 AU, hurt/comfort. Timestamp to my 2019 Big Bang Marconi Plays the Mamba. This timestamp is pure, self-indulgent, Jensen hurt/Jared comfort.
Word Count: ~30,120
Beta: kee, who understands me and makes me better. Cheers to us, bb!
Warnings: H/C with an NC-17 rating (and some humor)
Disclaimer: Untrue story. Character names are being used without permission. No money changes hands.
A/N 1. I suggest you read Marconi Plays the Mambafor the full context. It's a fun story. Some of the early dialogue is straight from Marconi, but this story is from Jared's point of view.
A/N 2. This is Jensen's rescue plus the four-month recovery/rehab left out of the original story. It is all Hurt!Jensen/Caring!Jared all the time.
A/N 3. This timestamp begins during the storm, seconds before the defenestration. I can't help it. I love that word and I probably won't ever be able to use it in a story again.
Summary:
"I get congratulated for every little, normal thing, like getting toothpaste on my toothbrush instead of all over my clothes. I get recognized and thanked a dozen times a day, but Jared, you know what? I don't feel strong or brave, and I sure as hell don't feel lucky. I feel damaged, like, everywhere. Every piece of me is moving in a way that hurts. I don't deserve their appreciation, I don't want their platitudes, I just want to be normal and not broken all to bits."
~~*~~*~~
Back to Chapter One
Jared and Chad were both right. Sort of.
Jared was right, in that Dr. Brown was called in early because of concerns regarding the circulation in Jensen's arm. The right elbow was so badly dislocated that the position and swelling were interfering with the blood flow to his hand. Turned out that Jensen's wrist and fingers on that side were also broken.
Chad was right, because Jensen's condition was stable. So stable that the surgeon didn't think he needed to wait any longer to begin the surgery.
Doc Brown met with them after the elbow surgery and said that the femur would be next while Jensen was still out.
"Don't worry," the doctor said, clapping Jared on the shoulder. "Your friend flew right through this one. I have no reason to expect that the open reduction-the repair of the thigh bone-will be any different."
That was two hours and an empty waiting room ago. One-by-one, Jensen's friends and Jared's crew filed into the surgical waiting area.
Felicia brought food, Osric brought a couple of laptops and iPhones to keep people occupied with YouTube, Candy Crush and Reddit.
At the three-and-a-half-hour mark, a young woman in a white lab jacket with the name S.J. Smith embroidered on the pocket entered the waiting room. The room fell silent.
"Jared Padalecki?" S.J. swiveled her head around the room. Her expression gave nothing away.
Ice water ran through Jared's veins as he stood. Until then, he hadn't realized how hard it was to keep his knees from buckling.
"I'm Jared."
She smiled tightly. "Come with me, the doctor wants to speak with you."
Felicia shot to her feet. "Is everything okay?"
"Is Jensen all right?" Chad raised his voice. "Please tell us."
S.J. smiled, a little more genuinely this time, and said, "He's out of surgery and in recovery. Mr. Padalecki, you can come with me."
It was all a blur until he was in the doctor's office. Dr. Brown entered and sat behind the desk, still in his surgical scrubs.
"Hi, again, Jared. Jensen pulled through the second surgery like a trooper. I lined up the broken femur and used a series of rods and pins to maintain the alignment so his leg will heal properly. I have no reason to believe there will be any complications, but," the surgeon smiled, gently. "we must always cross our fingers."
"That's great. That's really great." Jared released his breath. But didn't relax yet. "Will you have to go back in and take out the pins when the bones are all healed?"
"No. After the bone's healed, he won't know they're there, so we leave them in. While everything is going as well as can be expected…"
Jared flinched, but the doctor didn't notice.
"…I'm going to give you the full update."
"Okay."
"As Dr. Whovian explained, surgery was needed to stop the bleeding and repair the damage to Jensen's spleen. As he also told you, injuries from the fall caused some chest bleeding with a hemothorax, and that, too has been repaired. The good news is, it doesn't look like there are any complications from those procedures. On the orthopedic side, we had a team of surgeons working on him in the OR to minimize time under anesthesia. We have an excellent team and they all do meticulous work."
Dr. Brown gave Jared a reassuring look.
"So," the doctor fired up his computer. "Jensen sustained a set of pelvic fractures due to the force of the impact. Because the pelvis is shaped like a pretzel, it's near impossible to break it in one place without breaking it in another. So, at the bottom-most portion of the pelvis, two fractures were identified. This will cause some temporary pelvic instability and a fair amount of discomfort, but no surgery is needed."
"It'll heal on its own?"
"Yes. The pelvis will heal without our help." The doctor removed his surgical cap. "We found that his left ankle was fractured, his right wrist and the four fingers of his right hand were also broken. We set the ankle, wrist and fingers. His right knee was badly dislocated. We braced it, but he'll definitely need surgery on that, soon. As you know, we surgically realigned his right elbow this morning. He has three broken ribs on the right, one of which, we believe, caused the chest bleeding. The ribs are all lined up now and will heal on their own. There are skin abrasions mostly to his right side, and an indication of a mild traumatic brain injury…"
"Oh, God." Jared dropped his head into his hands. He was hanging in there pretty well with the litany of Jensen's injuries, but when the doctor said brain injury, all Jared saw, in his mind's eye, was the swelling and the blood on Jensen's face.
"Hey, Jared, hey. It's not as bad as it sounds. There are no brain bleeds-I think Dr. Whovian told you that-and the concussion should heal on its own within a few of weeks. He'll have headaches for a while, mood swings due to the concussion and maybe temporary memory loss, but, with time, he should be fine."
"Are you sure? Please be sure."
Doctor Brown paused, "I can't make any guarantees."
Jared took a moment to steady his emotions. "I know. I know."
He took in a lungful of air. "You've been making it sound like Jensen is waltzing through all these operations. There's got to be a flip side."
The doctor held Jared's eye with his. "Yes. There's a flip side. That's why I wanted to talk to you."
"Give me everything you've got. I need to know what we're in for, because he and I? We're in this together."
"I'm glad. Jensen's going to need physical and emotional support in the months to come. I wasn't exaggerating when I said how well Jensen has tolerated the surgeries, because he has. But he was badly injured and he'll need more operations before we're through with him. We will be on the lookout for injuries we may have missed, and be alert to bleeding, respiratory issues, and infection, which is always a huge possibility when injuries were sustained on a wet ground. Dirt, debris and other elements Jensen was subjected to, including the surgeries themselves could source infections. After he's stable and strong enough, he'll need an intensive stay at a rehab center to heal, get stronger, keep his pain managed, and to remain as flexible and mobile as possible. Make no mistake, Jensen has a long road ahead of him."
"Doctor Brown, with all the broken bones, surgeries, and upcoming surgeries, do you know if he will," Jared swallowed. "Will Jensen walk again?"
Doc Brown looked at Jared as though he was weighing his words. "I'm very optimistic that he will, but we don't know what obstacles lie in the road to his recovery. I do believe that with care, diligence, and hard work, he will heal and walk on his own again."
Jared blew out some air. "Good, that's good. 'Cause I wouldn't want to haul his heavy ass around everywhere." He looked up. "But I would. In fact, I would get him the hottest, sexiest, baddest ass set of wheels and detail them myself. "
"I'm glad," the surgeon smiled. "Do you have any more questions for me?"
"Of course I do, a whole ton of questions, but you've answered the most important ones for now." Jared stood. "Thank you. Thank you for all you've done."
"In my heart, I believe that Jensen saved lives last night. It was the least I could do to thank him for that." Doc Brown stood and opened the door. "You can go see him when he's out of recovery and in the ICU. You can stay as long as you want as there's no visiting hour limit for close family."
"There isn't?"
"It's been proven that patients heal quicker, do better and stress is decreased when a loved one is nearby. I don't expect a long stay at the surgical ICU, though, and Jensen will be sleeping through it, so after a quick check, you might want to wait until he's set up in his own room before camping out. There's even a pull-out bed for you. In the meantime, you can update his family and friends, get what you need from home, and then come back and stay for a while."
Jared smiled a watery smile. "All this and a Starbuck's too."
"If you've got to be in a hospital," the doctor gave another clap to Jared's shoulder, "this is the one to be in. I'll get Marty, my assistant, to show you where the ICU is, and then get you back to your friends."
"Thank you. Thank you, again."
"You're welcome. Make sure you take care of yourself, Jared. You're no good to him if you crash and burn."
"I know and I will."
The doctor leaned out of his office door. "Marty, take Jared to the ICU, please. And then show him how to get back to the main waiting room." He smiled over at Jared. "Tell Jared he can come back any time, and give him a map of the place."
"Okie doke, Doc." A young man with an apparent overload of energy bounced on his toes waiting for Jared to join him.
The surgical ICU was a lot calmer and quieter than Jared expected it to be. He was led over to a corner cubical where Jensen lay sleeping. He was hooked up to a bunch of machines with a myriad of wires, draining tubes, and IVs snaking all around him. But this time, all Jared concentrated on was Jensen's sweet face, now cleaned of blood and looking less swollen. He was still on the ventilator but there was a peace to his breathing, and Jensen's stillness spoke to Jared more of comfort rather than injury.
"Hey, Jensen. I'm only going to stay for a minute, because you need your beauty sleep, but I want you to know that I'm here and I'm going to be here for the long haul. The doctors say you're doing really well and I believe them. It may not be a walk in the park, but they think that someday you'll be able to walk in the park." Jared took hold of Jensen's left hand, "And you and me? Barring any further derechos, we will weather this storm together."
"So, the docs say you should be waking up soon." Jared re-twined his fingers with Jensen's unbroken ones. "They've been telling me to keep talking to you, too. Like you know how hard it is for me to talk, right? So, I'll tell you right now that we are not in trouble with the station executives or the FCC. We could have been, since, you know, we did hijack the station and all." He brought his lips close to Jensen's ear and whispered conspiratorially, "And that was way cool."
Jensen's head was bandaged and both of his eyes were bruised black. He had a nasal cannula delivering oxygen and IVs delivering who knows what all. There was a brace on his right knee and some kind of immobilizer on his right elbow. His right wrist was in a blue plaster cast that extended to include his broken fingers. Jared couldn't take his eyes off him because Jensen, alive and breathing on his own, was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"One of the reasons that we're not in hot water is because Misha was able to get the WNBC national News in New York City to carry your reporting live, and Osric hacked into the Emergency Broadcast System to get you on people's radios, computers and phones- I don't know how he did it, and he probably should be in jail."
Jared brushed his knuckles against Jensen's cheek. "We are not only not in trouble, we're kind of heroes, except," Jared's voice faltered, "except we all know who the real hero is. Can you please, please open your eyes, now?"
Jared instantly regretted asking that, as Jensen's eyes shot open. He looked around wildly, and tried sitting up.
Jared quickly got one arm around Jensen to keep him still, and used the other to reach the call button. "Easy Jensen, don't move. Everything's okay. You're okay."
Jensen's body jackknifed in what looked like pain, as tears tracked down his cheeks.
The machines monitoring Jensen wailed and alarms beeped.
Jared spoke in his ear. "Jensen, you're fine. I'm here. Jensen?"
Jensen went rigid in Jared's arm, and he whimpered pathetically.
"Help!" Jared screamed. "We need help in here!"
Jared held Jensen close as the medical team rushed in. "Jen? It's me, it's Jay." Jared tried not to panic. "Can you hear me? Try to take it easy, okay? Be easy. Jensen, be easy." Jared squeezed his hand before being shuttled away by the staff.
"What's happening? What's happening to him?" Jared struggled to peer around the doctors and nurses who now surrounded Jensen's bed.
"Give us a minute, Jared." The nurse with the pink hair said gently but firmly. "He woke up too fast, that's all."
"Are you sure? Are you sure?"
It took several minutes, but when it was over, Jensen was settled and sleeping soundly. It would have looked like nothing had happened except there were drying tear trails down both of Jensen's cheeks. The med team left almost as quickly as they arrived with two of the nurses staying behind to further settle their patient.
"Don't worry, he's going to be okay." Nurse Pink-he really should ask her name-said, soothingly. "Sometimes patients come alert too quickly and they're disoriented. Jensen didn't know he was hurt and he moved when he shouldn't have."
"Will it happen again? Please don't let it happen again." Jared caught his breath. "Was it me? Was it because I was talking to him? Was it because I asked him to open his eyes? Oh, God! It was me. I did that."
"You did nothing wrong. If he heard you, and I'm thinking he did, I'll bet it was a soothing balm to his soul to hear your voice."
"You think so?"
"I do."
"Then I'll talk slowly to him. Not be so pushy about getting him to wake up." A thought occurred to him.
"Hey, Jensen opened his eyes."
"Yep, and he'll be waking up for-real soon." She smiled and patted Jared on the shoulder. "Keep talking to him. Keep him entertained." Her nurse's shoes squeaked as she walked away.
Jared sat down next to the bed. "Did you hear that, Jense? I'm supposed to keep you entertained."
With Jensen breathing, opening his eyes and moving (even though he didn't look happy doing it) Jared was finally able to take an optimistic breath. He reached for Jensen's hand and said, "So, I'll stay here keepin' the faith."
And, of course, he had to sing Billy Joel into Jensen's ear until Jared, himself, dozed off.
Something woke Jared up.
Talk about disoriented. He was dreaming of giant wind turbines.
Listening carefully, he noticed that Jensen's breathing pattern had changed. He wasn't imagining it because Jared had become quite familiar with Jensen's breathing, inhaling and exhaling with him to make sure Jensen was getting enough oxygen through his nasal cannula.
Jensen's eyes were moving under his lids.
"That's it, babe. Try opening your eyes and I'll talk you through it. Keep listening to my voice, okay?" Jared moved his lips scant inches from Jensen's ear. "Can you hear me, Jen?"
Jensen's eyes opened a crack, and a look of terror washed over him.
"It's okay. You're safe. We're safe." Jared held tight to Jensen's hand.
It looked like it took a Herculean effort, but Jensen finally got his eyes all the way open and zeroed them on Jared.
"There you are," Jared said, but Jensen's eyes began drifting closed.
"Hey, hey Jensen. Can you hear me now?"
This time Jensen's eyes stayed open. Not all the way, but he swallowed twice and uttered what sounded like, " Ver…n?"
Jared aimed a bendy straw at Jensen's mouth and he sipped. Jared asked softly, "How about now? Can you hear me now?"
Jensen nodded and mouthed a word. Jared brought his ear down close.
"Verizon." Jensen nodded again. "Can you hear me now?"
Jensen's voice sounded awful and wonderful. Awful because it sounded like he was talking with glass shards lining his throat, and wonderful because Jensen was awake, alive, and speaking in commercials.
Like a bolt of lightning, the enormity of what happened shot through him. Jensen could have died. He almost did. That fact not only broke Jared's heart, it pissed him off royally.
His emotions obliterated what little stoicism he had left, and Jared broke down, sobbing like a three-year-old.
"You promised, Jensen. You promised. I will if you will you said. Well I did and you didn't. When Alaina called me into her office to ream me out over the live-stream hijacking, I told her I wasn't going in, and that if I were her, I'd get to the console room immediately."
Jensen stared at Jared, blinking.
"You bet your ass I did, and, no, she didn't like it, but she came. It was a good thing, too, because one of the station's landscaped Magnolia trees exploded through her window and impaled itself on her desk chair. Glass was fucking everywhere. And do you know why I didn't get hurt? Do you know why? I didn't get hurt because I stuck to the deal. I didn't go into her office where there were windows."
Jared waited because Jensen began shaking, holding tighter to Jared's hand. Jensen had tears of his own in the corners of his eyes. Jared wiped the tears from his own face and dropped his head. "You didn't stick to the deal and we almost lost you.
"We almost lost you." Jared glanced at Jensen, "In fact, we did sort of lose you. If DJ hadn't slipped Scout's GPS into your pocket, they might have found you much later than they did."
Jensen cocked his head to the left, and Jared interpreted that to mean, What? Huh?
"Oh," Jared said. "After Scout got lost the last time, DJ bought a GPS locator for him to wear on his collar. DJ put it in your back pocket before he, Scout and Felicia went to safety in your ground floor bathtub."
Jensen's eyebrows knitted together.
"Yeah, they're fine. Covered in goose down, but waiting downstairs to hear how you're doing, like the rest of the country. Do you remember us finding you?"
Jensen shook his head, no.
Jared took a moment to breathe. Jensen was breathing heavily, and Jared gently wiped the moisture from Jensen's eyes with the pads of his thumbs.
They looked at each other with watery affection.
Jensen tried clearing his throat. Jared held the straw out to him, but he waved it away.
"How bad?" Jensen asked.
Still awful, still wonderful.
"Lots of property damage, several low-lying areas got hit with flash flooding, and a small tornado touched down in Gulf Beach Park. Some people got hurt, but no deaths. Not one."
It was like a bad dream Jared was still waking up from. "Almost one, Jensen. Almost you. Why didn't you move to safety? Why?"
And Toddler Jared's eyes were watering again.
"Sorry. I'm sorry."
Jensen's voice was weak and he was losing the battle to keep his eyes open. "Jay?"
"Go to sleep." Jared stroked Jensen's hair. "I'll let people know you're awake, and then I'll be back. I'll be right back."
Jensen was snoring lightly and Jared leaned down to kiss the top of his head. Jared took a selfish moment to look at Jensen, sleeping peacefully, and thanked Saint Medardus for watching out for him.
Saint Medardus. Patron saint of weathermen. He sure came in handy.
Jared stepped into the waiting room where his friends had been hanging out. Someone from both the WBB and the PMC camps were always there.
Osric hopped off the ottoman he was standing on. "Jared's here. Jared's back. Hey Jared. Hey."
All eyes turned to Jared. "He's awake and talking. Well, I mean, right now he's sleeping, but he was awake and he will be awake again. And talking. Again."
Big Jim Beaver bellowed out a huge breath. "Welp, that's good. That's real good. You tell that boy not to be so hard-headed next time. You tell 'im."
"You should probably tell him that yourself, Jim." Jared sat, as exhaustion was now winning over anxiety.
"You know, I might do that. I just might." Jim stood and stretched high. "He doing okay? You know when we might get to see him?"
"He's pretty beat up and talking isn't easy for him right now, but in a couple of days, I'll bet he'll be raring to see something other than my sorry mug."
"I'm good with that. I'll head on back and give the gang an update. You tell that idjit…" Jim trailed off and looked at the floor, swallowing hard. "You tell Jensen we're proud of his stupid, stubborn ass."
"I will."
Jim nodded once and left.
"Jared? Jared?" Osric hadn't stopped bouncing. "Tell him we're here. Tell him we're here for him. Tell him we miss him and we're sorry he's so hurt."
"I will, O. He'll be glad to know his friends are here and care so much."
"Then why are you sad? You said he was getting better." Osric rocked into Jared's personal space. "Why, Jared?"
"I'm not sad."
"Tears are on your face."
Again? Sheesh.
"I'm not sad," he repeated. "I'm just happy that he's awake and has such good friends."
"Okay then." Osric reached for his computer bag and bike helmet. "I'll go back and let everybody know that he's awake. You tell Jensen we love him, okay?"
Tired, happy, hormonal, Jared didn't know what was going on with him. He pressed his lips together to calm them and said, "I will. Bet on it."
The curtains were pulled back from the windows by Jensen's hospital bed. He was out of the ICU and this room was bright with natural light. All traces of the bad weather were gone.
Jared looked down at Jensen's bruised face. He was still on oxygen, and everywhere he looked, Jensen was bandaged, stitched, immobilized or plaster casted. His eyes were closed and each time Jared looked at him, Jensen was more beautiful than ever.
Christ on a cracker, he had it bad.
Jared sat in the chair on Jensen's left, took his hand and let his own eyes fall shut. The steady beeping and ambient hospital noises were calming after all the excitement. After several minutes, he felt a slight but definite pressure clasping his hand.
Jensen's eyes were open and clear, and better still, they looked at Jared with warm affection.
Jared squeezed back and reached for Jensen's water glass. "Hey, how're doing?"
Jensen sucked down a few mouthfuls of cool water.
"What happened to me?" Jensen asked.
"You got blown out of your house and landed in the back yard." Jared answered. "You were buried under the rubble, so we had to key in Scout's GPS code to find you."
Jensen's eyes widened in shock.
"Am I okay?"
"No."
"No?" The beeping started up in earnest and Jensen's breaths came in short, quick gasps.
In retrospect, Jared really could have said that better.
"Hold on, hold on. You're going to be okay. You're just not okay right now." Jared held onto Jensen's hand. "Here, breathe with me. In and out."
He put his hand on Jensen's chest and exaggerated a breath in and a breath out. "In and out."
"What?" Jensen followed Jared's breathing until he had enough air to ask: "What's not okay about me?"
Jared smoothed Jensen's hair away from his face. He stroked his cheek and kissed his hair. Jensen calmed and the machines quieted with every kiss.
Jensen lay back, staring up with big, green eyes in anticipation.
Jared smiled softly. "Jensen, when they found you,"
"So, how's Florida's favorite weatherman? I'm Doctor Brown, one of your orthopedic surgeons. We haven't been formally introduced, but I know you pretty well." Doctor Brown came in with a laptop on wheels and was currently pulling up what appeared to be Jensen's medical information.
Jensen turned to Jared and mouthed, "Doc Brown?"
"Yeah," Jared stood. "He's the one who pinned you back together."
"One of the surgeons. You've had quite a team working on you, son." Doc Brown said, kindly. He sat at eye level with Jensen. "First, you're a very lucky man. You sustained impact injuries from a defenestration from the second story and impact injuries caused by falling and blowing debris."
Jensen looked confused and turned to Jared.
The doctor clarified. "You got blown out of a window from your top floor, landed in your back yard, and stuff hit you while you were falling and stuff fell on top of you after you landed,"
Jared lay his hand on Jensen's shoulder and stroked in comforting circles.
"Now, let's see." Doc Brown clicked through the reports in front of him. Jared kept an easy, slow circular rhythm.
"Your pelvis is fractured in two places. Your left ankle is also broken." The doctor looked up and smiled. "Another way of saying broken bone is fracture. They mean the same thing and a fracture isn't worse than a break."
He cursored down the screen. "Your right femur-that's your thigh bone-is also fractured and your right knee was dislocated. Your right elbow needed surgical realignment, and your right wrist, and three of the four fingers on your right hand were broken."
Doc Brown looked up and slid his reading glasses down. "You took a lot of damage on that right side."
He pushed his glasses back up. "You have three cracked ribs, also on the right, and a concussion resulting in a mild closed head injury. Internal damage was done to your spleen and right lung, and you sustained a mean case of road rash," he looked up. "And that will hurt. We surgically reduced the femur fracture and used pins and rods so it would heal properly. We set the bones in your ankle and wrist and fingers. We braced your right knee, but you'll need surgery on that soon. Your pelvis and ribs will heal on their own."
During the long dissertation of the injuries, Jensen's in and out, in and out, went quicker and quicker. "Wow," he panted when the doctor finished. "I'm a mess."
Jared brushed his hand through Jensen's hair and thought, "In no universe are you a mess."
Christ on a cracker.
"There is good news, though," the doctor said. "There was no damage to your spine, no lasting effects from the head injury are expected and all internal injuries are expected to heal without complications. As a bonus, not a mark on your face. Twelve stitches at the hairline, but even those will be invisible with time."
Jensen paled ever slightly when he asked, "Will I walk again?"
"Yes. It's going to take time and work, but we expect you to be back on both feet again. Mr. Ackles, you were badly hurt, but you're young and strong, and have friends and support. No one can predict your prognosis with certainty, but we expect all positive outcomes."
"Good, I think. Thank you." Jensen's voice was thin.
"How's the pain?"
"Not bad."
"Until he tried to sit up," Jared interjected.
Jensen looked like he wanted to rebut, but when he looked at Jared, his features softened and his eyes shone.
Jared cheered internally. He's got it as bad as I do.
Dr. Brown caught and held Jensen's eye. "Be honest about the pain, son. We can and should control it for now. Please let the nurses know when you need relief. I'll give you something in your IV now and I'll be checking on you later this evening."
He unlocked a cabinet and measured an amount of medication into Jensen's IV.
"Thank you, doctor," said Jensen.
"Thanks, doc," said Jared as the doctor left the room and shut the door.
"The way I look at it, I can still forecast the weather. In fact, I might be able to predict the weather just with my bones alone." He smiled feebly at Jared.
"My house didn't get hit hard. We didn't get a full-on blast in Parkbridge. I'd like it if you came home with me after your stay in rehab. I have wide doorways and wide hallways big enough for your temporary wheelchair. I have that big guest bedroom on the ground floor with an attached bathroom that we could modify."
"Oh," Jensen's face fell. "The guest bedroom, huh?"
Jared shot Jensen his winning smile. "The guest bedroom that we can modify into a master bedroom."
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
Was Jensen actually asking that? What a maroon.
"Of course, I do. After all, there's something I haven't told you yet." In fact, this next piece of information was literally hot off the press. He couldn't wait to let Jensen know that a ceremony was being planned for him in his honor.
"No more surprises. I don't think I can take any more surprises."
"Sorry, but you have to know that when Misha ran the live feed through the major NBC network to the entire country, you became America's New Darling."
"Please say that's not true."
"Well, that's what I call you."
"Please don't."
"All of America heard you warning the city about the derecho. Live. You were live when you asked about my safety. That's how I was able to be your significant other and allowed to be here with you right now. Can we start using the term "boyfriend" now, please?"
"Yes, we can."
"Good, because I already have. You were live on the air the whole time and that meant everybody heard when you," Jared stopped and caught his breath. "You were live when the storm got you."
Jensen took Jared's hand.
"You generated a lot of public concern when it came to finding you and getting you out. I'm warning you now, because pretty soon this whole hospital will be filled with Get Well Soon balloons, flowers, candy and toys. Felicia's been fielding all your calls."
"How long did it take to find me?"
"Thanks to Scout and DJ we knew right where you were buried in the rubble. Getting you out safely took a little doing, especially since the storms were still in progress. Most of your rescue was on the local air, live, with the WBB news crew."
"Crap." Jensen's voice took on a calm, floaty quality. "Am I on a cloud?"
"No, you're not on a cloud. Take a look here." Jared opened the top three buttons of his shirt. "Saint Medardus. I'm wearing him and thanking him for you."
He reached over and stroked the medal Jared held, and gave him a drooly smile.
Jared knew that the drugs were hitting so he added quickly, "When you wake up, I have one more piece of news for you, and I'm sure you're going to like it. "
"Huh? Wha's'zit?"
"I'll tell you later, and, if you're good, and if they let me, I'll sneak you in a salad from Bread Zeppelin. Go to sleep."
A soft touch at his hairline, a soft kiss at his temple and Jensen was out for the count.
The crew from WBB and PMC were crowding around Jensen's hospital bed when Jared arrived. It was late afternoon, and he had gone home to run couple of errands. Jared knew that he had been monopolizing Jensen's time and that he had to give some of it up to Jensen's friends.
"Now I'm not telling you this so you get a big head or anything," Rob was looking down at Jensen, "but the day after the derecho, our ratings went through the roof."
"That's right!" Alona said. "Not only were the ratings sky high, but our phones were ringing off the hook with viewers wanting to know how you were and to wish you well."
"Yeah," Rob said. "And not only locally, but from all across the country."
"We even got a call from Canada," Alona said proudly.
A pink blush ran up Jensen's pale cheeks.
"Phones don't have hooks anymore." Osric said as he bounced up and down in the corner. "And the close door button on elevators don't work."
"They don't?" Alona blinked her pretty eyes.
"Nope, and they haven't for a long time. The keep door open buttons work though," Osric said, nodding. "Firefighters can close an elevator door manually if they have to."
Misha was sitting silently, holding Jensen's hand when Jensen noticed Jared in the doorway.
One look and Jared knew what to do.
He smiled, clapped his hands softly and said, "Visiting hours are over for everybody but me."
One by one, they filed out. Both Alona and Misha kissed Jensen's cheek as they left.
Jared lowered his voice, dimmed the lights, and closed the shades.
"Better?"
"A little." Jensen cleared his throat. "I thought the leg was going to be the problem. Concussions suck big time. Who knew that clicking a light on would burn my skull from the inside out, or turning too quick would make my brains melt out of my ears?"
Jared smiled, gently. "Doc Brown said that the worst of the pain should go away soon." He reached for the call button. "Shall I call a nurse?"
Between the headaches and the abraded skin, which the physicians said was akin to second-degree burns, various pain-relieving medications were a necessity even if they only took the painful raw edges off, because, right now, most of Jensen's waking hours were a misery.
"Naaw, you're here, so I'm feeling better already." Jensen worked up a weak but genuine smile which managed to melt Jared's heart.
"I'm jealous you let Misha hold your hand." Jared sat and began massaging Jensen's temples. "He even kissed you on the way out."
Jensen heaved a relieved sigh and closed his eyes. "Misha is surprisingly soothing. There's something magically Zen about him."
"There must be since we used his son's cheesy slogan for the PMC Company."
Jensen snorted then grimaced. "Ouch. Stop it. No jokes. No laughing, and, God forbid, no sneezing." Jensen cracked an eyelid open, "I was ready to shove an ice pick through my eye after that exploding pepper package debacle."
"Jensen. What did we say about self-lobotomizing?"
Jensen snickered then grabbed his head with his left. "No. No jokes. Stop, stop."
"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry." Jared softened his voice and scooted up on the bed. "I'm really sorry." He kissed up Jensen's neck. "Shh, shh, I won't do it again." He worked his way over to put his arms around him and kept nuzzling Jensen's hair until he relaxed down into Jared's arms.
Jared wrapped him close and simply held him.
"I'm sorry," Jensen said after the pain eased. "I'm sorry I'm such a baby." He snuggled closer, and Jared held tighter.
"You're not a baby and don't be sorry."
A soft exhale was all Jared heard. He kissed the top of Jensen's head. "How does your back feel? Do you want me to put some of that Lidocaine burn cream on it for you?"
"No, thanks. Lying here like this, everything feels much better."
"Have you eaten? Are you drinking enough? Do you need donuts or pancakes or a Big Mac?" As Jared spoke, he stroked Jensen's arm. "Maybe ten or twelve down pillows and a fluffy comforter?"
"No, just you." With his eyes closed, Jensen smiled softly. "You're all I need. I always feel better with you here. You're kind of magically Zen yourself."
"Then I'll stay." Jared massaged Jensen's shoulders with a feather touch. "But I'm beginning to like the idea of pillows, donuts, and Big Macs."
Jensen let out a relieved groan. "That, what you're doing, that feels so good. And your voice, it's so good. You are so good." His breathing evened out, but Jensen wasn't asleep. "You're so, so good to me."
Jared found a tight spasm in Jensen's left shoulder and used his fingers to gently work it out.
Jensen moaned in relief for several minutes then edged back. He looked up blearily and said, "You're the best. You know that?" Then dropped full weight onto Jared's chest. Jared gathered him close.
"No, you are." Jared wanted to hold him tight and never let go, but he didn't want to hurt Jensen's arm, or leg, or knee, or ribs, or … "Have I told you lately that I love you?"
"Van Morrison or Rod Stewart?" Jensen mumbled into Jared's shirt.
"Well, that would be a tough call," Jared lay his cheek on the top of Jensen's head, "except it's neither. It's how I feel."
Jensen smiled against Jared's chest. "I'm a lucky guy."
Jared found that unexpectedly touching, so he blinked his eyes, held on to Jensen, and thanked St. Medardus again and again that Jensen was alive, and drooling on him.
Christ on a cracker.
Physical therapy came for Jensen.
It took two of them to transfer Jensen and arrange him comfortably in a high-back reclining wheelchair with his braced right knee straight. He'd had surgery on that knee two days ago and no weight bearing whatsoever was allowed.
To the therapists' credit, they told Jensen what they were going to do and what they wanted him to do to help. They were cheerful, upbeat and efficient.
Jensen, to his credit, bit his lip, closed his eyes, and followed their instruction mostly by using his left arm and hand.
It was an arduous task, and it was obvious that Jensen's cracked pelvis was making an appearance, as every move looked as though it hurt to sit.
Jared stood next to Jensen as they prepared for their journey to the elevator and the three floors down.
"Hey, Jared?" Jensen's voice was weak just from getting into the wheelchair.
Jared knelt down so he was eye level. "What's up?" He brushed an imaginary strand of hair away from Jensen's eye.
"It's not that I don't want you there, but I'd like to do this first session alone. Don't be upset, okay?"
Don't be upset?
"I won't ever be upset as long as I get to be here when you come back. After all, you're coming home with me someday."
"You say that now but you have no idea how I'm going to renovate the guest bedroom."
"Master bedroom, and you got it."
Even though the therapists were waiting, Jared took his time. "I want you to know that I'll back you up with anything you want. I'll be wherever you need me to be. You don't have to be a hero on my account, or anyone's account. You already have that title."
"I'm no hero."
"You are to me." Jared worked up his dimples and hoped they did the trick.
Jensen used his good hand to touch Jared's face and trace his lips. "I love you, you know."
"Back at'cha. I'll be here waiting."
"Okay, let's get this show on the road," short, blonde physical therapist said, smiling.
Jared held himself back from supporting Jensen's head, cradling Jensen's injured right arm, and telling the therapy staff for God's sake don't hurt him!
Jared probably looked a little rough, because tall, bald physical therapist smiled kindly and said, "Don't worry, we'll bring him back in one piece."
Jensen's eyes silently sought out Jared's, and with much effort, Jensen brought his casted hand up and raised his thumb.
Jared raised both of his and watched them wheel Jensen away.
"Jayman!"
Jared entered the bullpen at the WBB studio. It seemed like ages since he'd been there. The building has sustained some damage, but everything was dry now, the broken windows were replaced, and PMC had a job to finish.
"Hey, Chad." Jared sat at a terminal and was satisfied that the computer screen was no longer a steady blue. "How close are we to being done here?"
"We are rock steady. Launch code is T minus nine. We should be dusting it off and packing it up by the end of next week."
"That's great, man. All the numbers are stacking up?"
"So far, it's looking good. Soon, PMC will have a successful new product launch, and after lift-off, we say good bye for now to WBB. It's crunch time which is why I haven't been able to visit your boy."
Jared activated the touch screen, absently finger brushing the hair out of his eyes while staring at the computer.
"Holy Moly, man, you look wrecked." Chad lowered his voice. "How is Jensen? Is he doing okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. They're going to be discharging him tomorrow to what they call a step-down facility."
"That's good, right? That means he doesn't need to be in the hospital anymore. That's good. Right?" Chad asked. "Uh, what's a step-down?"
"They're going to be sending Jensen to a rehab facility. He's no longer in the danger zone health-wise and his vitals are strong. They say it's time to get him up and moving. I don't know how they plan on doing that since he's partial weight-bearing on his left ankle and non-weight bearing on his entire right leg. He can't use his right arm for anything and his ribs, pelvis, road burn and concussion make everything he moves, hurt."
"Jared, you know that…"
"Why can't they just let him rest and recover and feel warm and safe and comfortable and not be in any fucking pain?" Jared's voice grew louder and higher until his voice caught at the end. "Why can't they leave him the hell alone for a few goddamn days?"
"Do you know where they're sending him?" Chad kept his voice low, which Jared wasn't used to.
"North of here, to a place in Palm Haven called Bay Sun Rehabilitation Center. It's a forty-five minute drive, so he's not that far away."
"Jared, you know that they have to get him going."
"I don't know why it has to hurt. He's on pain killers but they only scratch the surface. Everything, every movement hurts him and I feel-I feel like it's on me." Jared looked squarely at Chad. "I feel like it's all on me."
"The hell?" There's the voice Chad always uses. "What do you mean it's on you? Did you throw him out the window?"
Jared shuddered at the image. "No, but I did the next best thing. I set it up so that he could broadcast that monster storm from his house. If I hadn't gone along with his stupid, stupid plan, he'd be fine. He'd be safe. He'd be unhurt."
"Shit, Jared, why the hell does your mind work like that?"
"Because he asked me to help. Jensen asked me to help him warn the people. If I'd said no-if I had said that I wouldn't be a part of his stupid, stupid plan, he wouldn't have been able to pull it off, and he would have taken cover like he was supposed to."
"He never would have forgiven you if you didn't help him." Chad leveled a stare. "And what you guys have? It'd be over."
"If it kept him safe and unhurt, I might have been willing to make that sacrifice."
"What if someone had died? Because it's likely that at least one of those kids who were caught in storm would have gotten killed if their teacher didn't do what Jensen said, exactly when he said it."
"I would have found a way to blame nature for that."
"No, you wouldn't."
"Yes, I would."
"No, you wouldn't, and Jensen wouldn't have either."
"No, he wouldn't." Jared hung his head. "It's not fucking right that the only one who got seriously hurt was the one who saved everybody else. How is that even fair?"
"It's not," Chad agreed. "Not even a little bit."
"I could tell he had a hard time in therapy today, but he didn't want to tell me. He doesn't ask me to come with him for his sessions and he never tells me how much he hurts, because he doesn't want me to feel bad. Chad, there are goddamn tear tracks, still wet on his face, when he's rolled back to his room. Who the fuck does he think he is?"
"He thinks he's the guy in love with you. Probably thanking all the saints his mother prays to, that you weren't hurt."
"Shut up, Chad."
"You know it's true."
"Shut the hell up. There's no way I'm worth that. Fucking microbursts." Jared's resolve was failing, and his eyes were burning. "Fucking down drafts, fucking shelf clouds and fucking, fucking laser doppler anemometers."
"I don't know what any of those things are, but I do know that Jensen thinks you are worth it. After what he's going through, don't second guess him, and don't "Shut-up, Chad," me."
Chad pretended to look at something on his iPad. Jared took stock of himself and had to admit that what Chad said was true. Jensen would have been devastated if he hadn't been able to broadcast the warnings and someone died.
An image of a dead teenager confirmed what Jared also knew. He wouldn't have been able to forgive himself either. But the truth of the situation remained that Jensen was suffering for them all.
"Not even a little bit fair," he whispered shaking his head.
"Agreed," Chad responded. "But, going to a step down, that's good, right? That means he doesn't need to be in the hospital anymore. That's good. Right?"
"Yeah, that is good." Jared forced a smile.
"They might be able to find the right positions, the right exercises and the right cocktail of pain killers for him while he's there, too. Did you ever think of that?"
"I had not."
Chad squinted up at him. "Then do so now."
"You're kinda smart sometimes."
"Don't let Osric hear you say that. I couldn't come close to the kung fu he used to get Jensen on the emergency broadcast system in four counties." Chad looked down at his iPad again. "I'm your friend, Jay. I'm here for you, so, whatever you need from me, the answer is yes. Even if it's a cold beer or a bad joke."
"I know that. I've always known that."
It took Jared a moment to compose himself, "So, PMC and WBB are playing nicely now, eh? I'll be glad when this project is over and we can have a little down time."
"That's if you call down time driving forty-five minutes to Palm Haven and forty-five minutes back." Chad looked at him sideways.
"Yep, that's what I call down time." Jared smiled for real this time. "But, come Monday, it'll be alright."
Chad beamed back, "And remember, it's always five o'clock somewhere."
"And you know," Jared shrugged, "with all of our running and all of our cunning, if we couldn't laugh, we would all go insane."
"Amen, Captain Jaybird." Chad shot him a smile. "Amen."
They nodded silently communicating in a way that only best friends for decades could understand.
On to Chapter Three