Jay Merrick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deadeyedchild) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bigapplesauce2015-08-12 01:04 am
deadeyedchild) wrote in bigapplesauce2015-08-12 01:04 am
so much more than time has been taken [closed]
[Immediately following this.]
Jay moves Tim's body to his bed. It's hard. He feels exhausted, like his body has been on ice the whole time he was 'dead', muscles needing to learn again how to work. Tim's heavy and Jay can't really lift him, can only sort of roll him awkwardly up onto the bed. It's absurd and undignified and he doesn't give a fuck.
In fact he feels incredibly numb. The initial shock and rage and sadness has fizzled down into nothing. He's running on autopilot, auxiliary power. He finds Tim's keys and takes the one for his apartment. He finds Tim's phone and calls in to his workplace. They actually remember him from that one time he called in for Tim before.
He tells them the truth this time: Tim is in a coma. He's being cared for at home.
They tell him they're going to have to let Tim go, but that, if things look up, he's welcome to re-apply. They seem like good people. Understanding enough.
Tim's phone ends up in his pocket. May as well.
He stands there staring at Tim for too long, until he realizes he feels like he's going to faint. He's hungry, thirsty, he feels sick. His body is both catching up to him and rejecting all of this. He doesn't want to leave Tim, not ever, but he has to. Just for a bit.
He stumbles out of the apartment, locks it behind him, sweaty and cold. He stares at his hands, which are visible and solid and pale and shuddering.
He staggers down a few flights and into the hallway, moving down it like he's in a trance, stopping finally outside Daine's door. He lifts a trembling hand and knocks.
Jay moves Tim's body to his bed. It's hard. He feels exhausted, like his body has been on ice the whole time he was 'dead', muscles needing to learn again how to work. Tim's heavy and Jay can't really lift him, can only sort of roll him awkwardly up onto the bed. It's absurd and undignified and he doesn't give a fuck.
In fact he feels incredibly numb. The initial shock and rage and sadness has fizzled down into nothing. He's running on autopilot, auxiliary power. He finds Tim's keys and takes the one for his apartment. He finds Tim's phone and calls in to his workplace. They actually remember him from that one time he called in for Tim before.
He tells them the truth this time: Tim is in a coma. He's being cared for at home.
They tell him they're going to have to let Tim go, but that, if things look up, he's welcome to re-apply. They seem like good people. Understanding enough.
Tim's phone ends up in his pocket. May as well.
He stands there staring at Tim for too long, until he realizes he feels like he's going to faint. He's hungry, thirsty, he feels sick. His body is both catching up to him and rejecting all of this. He doesn't want to leave Tim, not ever, but he has to. Just for a bit.
He stumbles out of the apartment, locks it behind him, sweaty and cold. He stares at his hands, which are visible and solid and pale and shuddering.
He staggers down a few flights and into the hallway, moving down it like he's in a trance, stopping finally outside Daine's door. He lifts a trembling hand and knocks.
no subject
"I'd offer to do it myself, but I don't know if that's wise," says Aziraphale, sounding reluctant. "It would be - very specific, constant care. I think a human doctor would be best."
"No hospitals." Jay's almost surprised to hear himself speak, and he shuts his mouth for a moment. The last thing Tim needs upon waking - and he will wake, goddammit - is to be in another hospital room. "I can do it. I can take care of him myself."
Can he, though?
This is probably a terrible idea.
"Oh," says Aziraphale brightly. "Well, all right then."
no subject
To Jay, she adds, "I can help, if you like. The dogs need walking, anyway; I could pick some things up while I'm out." Food, she's thinking. She doesn't know how well Tim's cupboards are stocked, but Jay hasn't needed to eat in some time, so there probably isn't enough for two.
no subject
"That'd be good," he says to Daine. "Uh, thanks." He glances up at Aziraphale. "You too."
The angel gives him a distracted nod and pats Daine limply on the back before disappearing again.
He accompanies Daine to the kitchen as she gets a list of things he might need, awkwardly offers her some money, which she accepts with a smile. And then she goes.
Leaving him, again, alone with Tim's body.
With Tim.
Try as he might, he can't avoid returning to the bedroom. Tim's in there like a splinter, a little pinprick of pain he can't stop worrying at. He gets the peanut butter and a glass of water and takes them in with him, eating occasional spoonfuls and taking slow sips until he starts feeling human again.
This will work out. It has to. It has to.
Everything will be fine.