beanside | Fic: Upon My Liar's Chair 14/?) WIP

Title: 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 avid_slacker.
Warning: Character injury, permanent disability.

Jeff pulled up in his rental SUV as Jensen was navigating the front doors to the shiny office building. Fucking things. Press button to open, his ass. More like press button, then reverse quickly to avoid getting crushed by automatic door.

Really, what was wrong with the good old fashioned sliding doors? One more thing he'd never noticed before.

“Hey. How was the appointment?” Jeff asked, coming around to open the car door for him.

Jensen shrugged. “She says I'm healed, and I need to work on my hip muscles. And get a new wheelchair.”

“That would be good. Cause I gotta tell you, this one really doesn't suit you.”

“Talk to the hospital. They got me this piece of shit.” Jensen slid into the car, and watched Jeff fold the chair to shove in the backseat.”

“You okay, dude?” Jeff asked softly. “Did she give you bad news or something?”

Jensen shrugged. “Can we not go back to the house right away?”

“Sure. Where do you want to go?”

“I don't know. Just not to the house.” Jensen shrugged.

Jeff nodded, and slid behind the wheel.

The weather had improved a little, at least. It was still cloudy, but at least the rain had stopped.

Jeff drove like he knew where he was going, heading out onto the highway, while Jensen stared out the window.

“I was kinda rough on you yesterday,” Jeff said suddenly.

Jensen glanced over at him, stomach tightening. “Can we not talk about it right now. I just...”

Jeff nodded. “Okay. We can table it.”

“Thanks.” He looked back out the window, up at the peak of Whistler in the distance. “She doesn't think it's coming back. Not all the way.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

“So, that's it. I'm officially fucked as far as my career choice,” Jensen said bitterly.

“No you're not,” Jeff said.

“You're right. Once in a while, they can trot me out for those sweeps week 'Very Special Episodes.'”

“Jen-”

“Face it, Jeff. Even when they have a role for someone to be handicapped, they never cast an actual cripple. Too much work.”

“Is that what you think you are?”

“What? A cripple?” Jensen looked at him, feeling the anger that never seemed to be far away boiling up. “If the chair fits, Morgan.”

“You are such a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that? You have so fucking much going for you,” Jeff began.

That was it, Jensen thought. “Oh yeah. I can totally see that. Asshole. I can't walk. I can't stand. I have pain, invisibility and humiliation to look forward to. You're right. I'm so lucky,” he spat. “Quit being such a fucking Pollyanna.”

“One of us should be, since you're determined that the rest of your life is going to suck.”

“What life?” Jensen screamed. “Even my parents are acting like I'm dead already.”

Even as the words were flying out of his mouth, Jensen was cursing himself.

True to form, Jeff's face softened. “Jen-” he started, voice gentle.

“Don't. I don't want your fucking pity.”

“Got that market cornered already?”

“You know what? Fuck you, Morgan. You don't get to do this sanctimonious bullshit. Still trying to run in and be the goddamned hero. I don't need you. I didn't fucking ask you to be my fucking nursemaid, and frankly, you can leave if I don't meet your standards of what a cripple is supposed to be like,” Jensen spat. “Now stop the goddamn car.”

“What?”

“Stop the fucking car!” Jensen yelled.

“Okay, okay.” Jeff pulled over to the sidewalk.

Jensen didn't waste time, squirming awkwardly between the seats until he could drag himself into the back with his wheelchair. A moment later, he was lunging across, and shoving the door open, following it with the chair, shoving it out onto the pavement.

Jeff finally caught on and jumped out, hurrying around in time to catch the chair, lifting it upright. “Jensen, don't-”

“Fuck you. Don't tell me what I can and can't do.” He grabbed onto the handle over the window, and pulled himself up with one hand, using the other to propel his legs forward, out of the car.

A moment later, he was pitching forward, grabbing himself just in time to flop into the chair, which promptly proved it's worth by tipping and nearly dumping him on the sidewalk.

Jeff grabbed it, righting it quickly, then stepped back. “Jen, what are you-”

“I'm taking the cripple equivalent of a long walk. Fuck off. I'll find my own way back to the house.”

Jeff stared for a moment, hurt and confusion written on his face. “Jensen-”

Jensen turned away, wheeling down the sidewalk before he relented. “Just leave me alone.