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beansideTitle: Upon My Liar's Chair
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: Thankfully, this didn't happen. I don't know them, I don't know what they do in their spare time, but I doubt it's any of this.
A/N: Much love to my wife for doing the quick once over. Sweet Charity fic, for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
avid_slacker
Warning: Character injury, permanent disability.
Jeff squinted at the sun, waiting for the director to decide that the light was “gritty enough.” Christ, he missed Vancouver. He'd stayed all weekend, until he'd finally had to leave for the airport. Mostly, he'd caught a few moments here and there when Jensen's parents went to the hotel, or the canteen. His mother, especially, was driving Jeff crazy. Less than a week, and she'd already switched to past tense.
God knew, it wasn't easy on anyone. Jared was haunting the hospital like a ghost while Sandy took care of Harley and Sadie. Jeff had a bad feeling that Jared was kicking himself for the accident happening on a day when he got to show up on set late. As if he'd have been able to somehow catch Jen before his back hit the stone.
Jensen was being remarkably calm about it. The pain hadn't abated much, and he still had no feeling below his pelvis. He was spending a lot of time drugged with various muscle relaxants and narcotics, which probably helped his attitude.
The doctors were still hopeful that he'd get a little more feeling back, but they'd stopped using the words “full recovery,” and begun using words like “limited function.” The studio had assured Jen that he could have all the time he needed to recover. His job would be waiting, no matter what.
Jeff was betting that had more to do with trying to play down the press coverage, which had been pretty extreme. Must have been a quiet news week, because he'd already had three reporters track him down for a comment.
He'd called to talk to Jensen whenever he had a moment. He still sounded pretty upbeat, discussing how badly he needed a cheeseburger, or fried chicken. Apparently, hospital food left a bit to be desired. Jared had snuck him in some snacks, but the Snickers bars just weren't cutting it.
Jeff teased him mercilessly, telling him all about the awesome Mexican food he'd been eating. It was hard to act like everything was normal, but it was pretty obvious that was what Jensen wanted. More than once, he'd bitched to Jeff about how his family was tiptoeing around him.
Once Jen was out of the hospital, it was harder to get ahold of him. No shock. Jeff would have bet that Jared was going to do his best to keep Jensen occupied, plus there was physical therapy and all that fun crap to consider.
Still, after a few months, Jeff was getting a little tired of five minute conversations and phone tag. He'd heard through the grapevine that Jen was renting a wheelchair accessible house in Vancouver, but beyond that, the boy could have dropped off the face of the planet.
Which was all to say that he wasn't that shocked when Jared called him.
He'd just come back from the wrap party for the movie, which had been infinitely more fun than the film itself. Plenty of cervesa, and tequila had been flowing, along with the best carnita tacos he'd ever had.
It took him a minute to fumble the phone open when he saw Jare's number on the caller ID. “lo.”
“Hey, dude. How's filming.”
“Blessedly over.”
“Cool. Look, have you heard from Jen?”
Jeff sat up, the pleasant alcohol buzz draining away. “Not a a week or two. And then only for a minute. Why?”
“He's just been...weird. I mean, he goes to his PT—at least I think he does, but otherwise, he really hasn't been out of the house.”
“Give the guy a break, Jare. He's never been exactly the life of the party, and this has to be tough.” Jeff ran his fingers through his hair and booted his laptop up.
“I know that,” Jared muttered. “But he won't let anyone help him. He's just...shoved everyone away. Even me,” he added quietly.
There was a world of confusion and hurt in those words. “I've got the next couple of months off,” he murmured. “How about I come up and see what I can do?”
“Would you?”
“No guarantees it'll do any good, but, yeah. I'll be there as soon as I can.”
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: Thankfully, this didn't happen. I don't know them, I don't know what they do in their spare time, but I doubt it's any of this.
A/N: Much love to my wife for doing the quick once over. Sweet Charity fic, for
avid_slackerWarning: Character injury, permanent disability.
Jeff squinted at the sun, waiting for the director to decide that the light was “gritty enough.” Christ, he missed Vancouver. He'd stayed all weekend, until he'd finally had to leave for the airport. Mostly, he'd caught a few moments here and there when Jensen's parents went to the hotel, or the canteen. His mother, especially, was driving Jeff crazy. Less than a week, and she'd already switched to past tense.
God knew, it wasn't easy on anyone. Jared was haunting the hospital like a ghost while Sandy took care of Harley and Sadie. Jeff had a bad feeling that Jared was kicking himself for the accident happening on a day when he got to show up on set late. As if he'd have been able to somehow catch Jen before his back hit the stone.
Jensen was being remarkably calm about it. The pain hadn't abated much, and he still had no feeling below his pelvis. He was spending a lot of time drugged with various muscle relaxants and narcotics, which probably helped his attitude.
The doctors were still hopeful that he'd get a little more feeling back, but they'd stopped using the words “full recovery,” and begun using words like “limited function.” The studio had assured Jen that he could have all the time he needed to recover. His job would be waiting, no matter what.
Jeff was betting that had more to do with trying to play down the press coverage, which had been pretty extreme. Must have been a quiet news week, because he'd already had three reporters track him down for a comment.
He'd called to talk to Jensen whenever he had a moment. He still sounded pretty upbeat, discussing how badly he needed a cheeseburger, or fried chicken. Apparently, hospital food left a bit to be desired. Jared had snuck him in some snacks, but the Snickers bars just weren't cutting it.
Jeff teased him mercilessly, telling him all about the awesome Mexican food he'd been eating. It was hard to act like everything was normal, but it was pretty obvious that was what Jensen wanted. More than once, he'd bitched to Jeff about how his family was tiptoeing around him.
Once Jen was out of the hospital, it was harder to get ahold of him. No shock. Jeff would have bet that Jared was going to do his best to keep Jensen occupied, plus there was physical therapy and all that fun crap to consider.
Still, after a few months, Jeff was getting a little tired of five minute conversations and phone tag. He'd heard through the grapevine that Jen was renting a wheelchair accessible house in Vancouver, but beyond that, the boy could have dropped off the face of the planet.
Which was all to say that he wasn't that shocked when Jared called him.
He'd just come back from the wrap party for the movie, which had been infinitely more fun than the film itself. Plenty of cervesa, and tequila had been flowing, along with the best carnita tacos he'd ever had.
It took him a minute to fumble the phone open when he saw Jare's number on the caller ID. “lo.”
“Hey, dude. How's filming.”
“Blessedly over.”
“Cool. Look, have you heard from Jen?”
Jeff sat up, the pleasant alcohol buzz draining away. “Not a a week or two. And then only for a minute. Why?”
“He's just been...weird. I mean, he goes to his PT—at least I think he does, but otherwise, he really hasn't been out of the house.”
“Give the guy a break, Jare. He's never been exactly the life of the party, and this has to be tough.” Jeff ran his fingers through his hair and booted his laptop up.
“I know that,” Jared muttered. “But he won't let anyone help him. He's just...shoved everyone away. Even me,” he added quietly.
There was a world of confusion and hurt in those words. “I've got the next couple of months off,” he murmured. “How about I come up and see what I can do?”
“Would you?”
“No guarantees it'll do any good, but, yeah. I'll be there as soon as I can.”
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