Fic: The Burn j2 PG chapter 3
Jun. 17th, 2008 12:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyjanellySo now the firefighter fic has a title. :)
Not really a long chapter, but a good stopping place.
Also this is making me want to break open photoshop and do some quicky fun manips.
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“Four hours, Ackles. I’m impressed, but you’re still suspended.”
And Jensen has to call “Wait wait wait,” before Bradley can hang up on him. “I just want to know if the guy made it. The one I got suspended for saving.”
Bradley pauses and Jensen can hear him hollering at the other guys.
“Charlie says he was stable when they dropped him off at CHMC. Broke his collarbone and some ribs. Probable concussion. That’s all we’ve got.”
California Hospital Medical Center. Jensen can work with that. It’s not that he wants to see the guy, but Jensen figures he should let him know where the dogs are before he gets released and they lose any way of contacting each other and Jensen gets stuck with the smelly mutts forever.
“Thanks Bradley. I’ll be in touch. Just in case you have some odd shifts you need filled.” It’s more likely to snow on Sunset than for Bradley to go around the lieutenant’s orders but it never hurts to keep his name in the shift-scheduler’s head.
Jensen doesn’t call the hospital. He knows the patient confidentiality, family only, blah blah blah. He gets dressed in his casual uniform instead. Puts the little LAFD insignia pins on his shirt and shines the scuffs out of his boots. He grabs some flowers off of the plants on his neighbor’s porch on the way to his bike. The wind will tear them up anyway so why pay quick-stop prices?
The Ducati’s motor thrums between his legs as he weaves through traffic to the hospital and from there, around to the ambulance entrance. The admission’s desk isn’t too terribly busy and he flirts with the older woman behind the computer screen. A little professional concern, “I pulled him out of a burning building and I just feel like he’s still my responsibility somehow,” gets him a name and a room number and he dumps the flowers in a trash can before he gets on the elevator.
Jared Padalecki, he thinks as the elevator ticks off the floors. He tries not to get too involved with the job beyond the moment but he hopes this Jared guy isn’t too fucked up. He’s not in the burn ward and that’s always, always a good thing.
The nurse’s station is quieter upstairs than down and Jensen doesn’t need to put as much spin on his story.
“I was wondering if Jared Padalecki is awake,” he tells the nurse at the desk. “I just need to leave him a note. Let him know his dogs are taken care of.”
“Oh,” she says and smiles. “Are you a family friend?” Jensen thinks that’s sort of an odd question with him in uniform and all. “It’s just that he’s been in and out, and we haven’t been able to contact any relations.”
And that right there is like one of Jensen's worst nightmares. To be alone and hurt and nobody knows or cares.
“I’m a friend of his,” Jensen answers and it isn’t even that much of a lie. Life or death situations make for strange bedfellows. Jensen thinks back to that guy he pulled out of a car wreck three years ago and reflects that the ‘bedfellows’ part is sometimes too literal for comfort.
The nurse takes down his information and Jensen feels like an imposter. It gets him taken in to Jared’s bedside though and that has to count for something. He had planned on leaving a note and getting out. The man on the hospital bed is younger than Jensen remembered. He might be a giant but his disheveled hair and the bruising across the right half of his face makes him look so vulnerable, so broken. The oxygen tubes up his nose make Jensen's nostrils twitch just to see them. Jensen should turn around and go, but his feet won’t listen to him.
The nurse calls softly “Jared, there’s someone here to see you,” and Jared whimpers and shifts one hand against the white sheets.
“Sadie?” And shit. Jensen didn’t even think to ask the chief if anybody else was in the wreckage.
Jensen pulls up a chair and takes Jared’s hand. “Nah man, it’s Jensen.” Just for the nurse’s benefit. She smiles all soft and tender and leaves them alone.
“Sadie’s fine,” he tells the kid on the bed. Even if she isn’t (and she’d probably be here if she was) Jared doesn’t need grief on top of his injuries.
The kid manages to open his left eye and focus on Jensen. “’m I dead?” he mumbles with his voice all smoke-rough and raw. Jensen pours him a cup of water and brings the straw to his cracked lips.
“You’re gonna be fine,” Jensen says even though he hasn’t sneaked a peek at the kid’s chart yet. “You just lay there and let these pretty nurses take good care of you, okay?”
“’kay,” Jared rasps out and his eye closes. Jensen sits there for another ten minutes before he slips his finger from the kid’s lax hand and walks away.
Jensen double checks that the nurses have his number before he leaves and he half-regrets the lies that got him into Jared’s room but block him from asking more questions.
He calls Bradley again from the parking lot. “You okay?” his boss asks and Jensen thinks it’s the weirdest question he’s had all day.
“Yeah,” he says as he walks out to his bike. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if we found anybody else in that fire. The guy keeps asking for a Sadie.”
Bradley sighs and fusses but Jensen can hear in his voice that he’s just grousing to fill the dead air while he looks up the information.
“No Sadies,” Bradley says at last. “No Jane Does, nobody unaccounted for. No bodies.”
“Thanks anyway,” Jensen says and hangs up the phone. He wonders if Sadie’s a girlfriend. Someone who would want to be there for Jared. There’s no way to tell until Jared’s coherent enough to give her phone number so Jensen puts it out of his head.
He takes the long way home. Opening up the bike’s engine feels a little like not being stuck at the beginning of an involuntary two week vacation. There’s an ache inside him. Like a craving he has no idea how to satisfy. He wants to fuck or be fucked but he can already taste how disappointing that’ll be. Another Rick doing what’s always worked before but won’t now.
He’s moving bowlegged and half-numb by the time he finally goes home. The dogs greet him at the door with eager whining and wagging tails and he sits on the floor and lets them stand on him and lick his face for a while before he grabs leashes and pulls himself together to go for another walk.
Not really a long chapter, but a good stopping place.
Also this is making me want to break open photoshop and do some quicky fun manips.
========
“Four hours, Ackles. I’m impressed, but you’re still suspended.”
And Jensen has to call “Wait wait wait,” before Bradley can hang up on him. “I just want to know if the guy made it. The one I got suspended for saving.”
Bradley pauses and Jensen can hear him hollering at the other guys.
“Charlie says he was stable when they dropped him off at CHMC. Broke his collarbone and some ribs. Probable concussion. That’s all we’ve got.”
California Hospital Medical Center. Jensen can work with that. It’s not that he wants to see the guy, but Jensen figures he should let him know where the dogs are before he gets released and they lose any way of contacting each other and Jensen gets stuck with the smelly mutts forever.
“Thanks Bradley. I’ll be in touch. Just in case you have some odd shifts you need filled.” It’s more likely to snow on Sunset than for Bradley to go around the lieutenant’s orders but it never hurts to keep his name in the shift-scheduler’s head.
Jensen doesn’t call the hospital. He knows the patient confidentiality, family only, blah blah blah. He gets dressed in his casual uniform instead. Puts the little LAFD insignia pins on his shirt and shines the scuffs out of his boots. He grabs some flowers off of the plants on his neighbor’s porch on the way to his bike. The wind will tear them up anyway so why pay quick-stop prices?
The Ducati’s motor thrums between his legs as he weaves through traffic to the hospital and from there, around to the ambulance entrance. The admission’s desk isn’t too terribly busy and he flirts with the older woman behind the computer screen. A little professional concern, “I pulled him out of a burning building and I just feel like he’s still my responsibility somehow,” gets him a name and a room number and he dumps the flowers in a trash can before he gets on the elevator.
Jared Padalecki, he thinks as the elevator ticks off the floors. He tries not to get too involved with the job beyond the moment but he hopes this Jared guy isn’t too fucked up. He’s not in the burn ward and that’s always, always a good thing.
The nurse’s station is quieter upstairs than down and Jensen doesn’t need to put as much spin on his story.
“I was wondering if Jared Padalecki is awake,” he tells the nurse at the desk. “I just need to leave him a note. Let him know his dogs are taken care of.”
“Oh,” she says and smiles. “Are you a family friend?” Jensen thinks that’s sort of an odd question with him in uniform and all. “It’s just that he’s been in and out, and we haven’t been able to contact any relations.”
And that right there is like one of Jensen's worst nightmares. To be alone and hurt and nobody knows or cares.
“I’m a friend of his,” Jensen answers and it isn’t even that much of a lie. Life or death situations make for strange bedfellows. Jensen thinks back to that guy he pulled out of a car wreck three years ago and reflects that the ‘bedfellows’ part is sometimes too literal for comfort.
The nurse takes down his information and Jensen feels like an imposter. It gets him taken in to Jared’s bedside though and that has to count for something. He had planned on leaving a note and getting out. The man on the hospital bed is younger than Jensen remembered. He might be a giant but his disheveled hair and the bruising across the right half of his face makes him look so vulnerable, so broken. The oxygen tubes up his nose make Jensen's nostrils twitch just to see them. Jensen should turn around and go, but his feet won’t listen to him.
The nurse calls softly “Jared, there’s someone here to see you,” and Jared whimpers and shifts one hand against the white sheets.
“Sadie?” And shit. Jensen didn’t even think to ask the chief if anybody else was in the wreckage.
Jensen pulls up a chair and takes Jared’s hand. “Nah man, it’s Jensen.” Just for the nurse’s benefit. She smiles all soft and tender and leaves them alone.
“Sadie’s fine,” he tells the kid on the bed. Even if she isn’t (and she’d probably be here if she was) Jared doesn’t need grief on top of his injuries.
The kid manages to open his left eye and focus on Jensen. “’m I dead?” he mumbles with his voice all smoke-rough and raw. Jensen pours him a cup of water and brings the straw to his cracked lips.
“You’re gonna be fine,” Jensen says even though he hasn’t sneaked a peek at the kid’s chart yet. “You just lay there and let these pretty nurses take good care of you, okay?”
“’kay,” Jared rasps out and his eye closes. Jensen sits there for another ten minutes before he slips his finger from the kid’s lax hand and walks away.
Jensen double checks that the nurses have his number before he leaves and he half-regrets the lies that got him into Jared’s room but block him from asking more questions.
He calls Bradley again from the parking lot. “You okay?” his boss asks and Jensen thinks it’s the weirdest question he’s had all day.
“Yeah,” he says as he walks out to his bike. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if we found anybody else in that fire. The guy keeps asking for a Sadie.”
Bradley sighs and fusses but Jensen can hear in his voice that he’s just grousing to fill the dead air while he looks up the information.
“No Sadies,” Bradley says at last. “No Jane Does, nobody unaccounted for. No bodies.”
“Thanks anyway,” Jensen says and hangs up the phone. He wonders if Sadie’s a girlfriend. Someone who would want to be there for Jared. There’s no way to tell until Jared’s coherent enough to give her phone number so Jensen puts it out of his head.
He takes the long way home. Opening up the bike’s engine feels a little like not being stuck at the beginning of an involuntary two week vacation. There’s an ache inside him. Like a craving he has no idea how to satisfy. He wants to fuck or be fucked but he can already taste how disappointing that’ll be. Another Rick doing what’s always worked before but won’t now.
He’s moving bowlegged and half-numb by the time he finally goes home. The dogs greet him at the door with eager whining and wagging tails and he sits on the floor and lets them stand on him and lick his face for a while before he grabs leashes and pulls himself together to go for another walk.
