Random short set during the current season (5) towards the end. After seeking out information on Camila, an injured Jay winds up at the last place he wants to be at, his dad's house.
They have some issues but in Med 2x20 they at least seemed to be able to put things aside and be there for each other even it's a bit begrudgingly.
Also small warning for some swear words.
Pat Halstead had dozed off in his recliner watching the 10 o'clock news when he hears a knock at the door. It's not so much a knock as a soft pounding. Checking his watch he realize it's nearly midnight on a Monday, way too late for visitors. He's already pissed about this because whatever it is, it isn't good.
On his way to the door he grabs the baseball bat he's kept in the hall since the boys were small, his wife hadn't wanted a gun and he hadn't wanted them defenseless so they had met in the middle. It's perfect too, the lightweight metal has held up well over all these years. He's used it before to scare off rambling teenagers.
He peeps through the peephole just as there's another knock at the door. Jay. His head is turned looking back down the street, blowing out small puffs of air in the coldness. He swings open the door just as Jay is reaching for it again catching his son off guard.
"Oh, hey, dad." Jay turns his head as he speaks and Pat sees the blood dripping down the boy's head.
"Oh, hey, Jay." Pat mimics. "You need something?"
Jay bites his lip, annoyance already working it's way over his face. "Um well, not exactly, I was just wondering if maybe I could come in for a minute. I was on my way home and just needed a second, you know to catch my breath."
"You're bleeding." Pat says, blocking the door way.
"And clean the blood off." Jay finally says. Pat steps sideways and Jay comes in beside him. In the hallway light Pat can see his son better. His cheeks are pink and wind chapped, there's a gash on the left side of his head. Jay's ocean colored eyes trail down to the bat then back up to meet his dad's. "You, uh, plan on adding insult to injury?"
Pat shrugs and props the pat by the doorframe, closing and locking the door behind them. "You in some kind of trouble?"
"No. Believe me, I wouldn't bother you with my problems." Jay answers with a harsh tone.
"Alright smart ass, so you just came here to drip blood all over my floor?" Pat snaps back at his son. This mouth on him will be the death of both of them. Jay just rolls his eyes and stomps to the kitchen, the closest room with a sink. He's turns the faucet on and test it a few times before splashing water onto his face. He grabs a handful of paper towels and blots blinding at the gash in his head. "How about I call your brother?"
"No thanks," Jay responds, trying not to wince as he finds the open wound. "In fact I'll be out of your hair in a few minutes. Besides you don't care."
"I don't know why you come here in the middle of the night to be a smart ass after you got the shit knocked out of you already tonight, but why don't you just cool it? It's late, I'm trynna to sleep. If you need some medical attention how about you run on down to see Will?"
Jay sighs, leaning heavily on the counter after he shuts off the water. "I can't, he's working tonight."
"And?" Pat asks, watching Jay. The realization hits him, Jay's bloody head and ill mood. "You can't go to the hospital for one of two reasons, you are working something or you've done something you aren't suppose to."
"Little of both, maybe."
"Jay." Pat snaps.
"Look," He interjects. "You're not in any danger and I'm not, I just got knocked around tonight trying to find out some info on Ca-... this girl I used to know and it was stupid and I already regret it. But I couldn't drive because my head was hurting so bad and I can't go to Will at Med because my Sarge would probably find out, so how about this just stays between us, okay?"
Pat takes a few breaths still watching Jay. He staggers a little as he goes to all but collapse in a chair at the table. "Okay."
"Okay?" Jay repeats in his irritated tone.
"What do you want me to say? Stop being a little shit." Pat huffs, rolling his eyes. He thinks about sending Jay on his way but the way he looks right now, like he just wants to melt into the table and sleep, he can't just yet. "Look, I don't care what you're up or who's panties you're trying to get into but you really ought to get somebody to look at your head."
"I'm not trying to get into any one's panties." Jay frowns up at his dad, leaning back in the chair. "She was just a friend and she moved away awhile back and I had heard she had gotten into some trouble in her new place and I was just trying to help and... and I don't know why I'm telling you this. It doesn't matter, I'm good now. Thanks, I think I'll go home."
Pat thinks again about letting Jay get up and walk out. He could let him leave and it wouldn't be his problem, Jay's a grown man. But for just a second he looks so much like his mom it hurts. He grunts in frustration and slaps his hand down on Jay's shoulder forcing him back down into the chair. It elicits a hiss of pain from his son but he ignores it. "You gonna walk all the way across town in the middle of the night?"
"I can call an Uber or something." Jay grumbles.
"You didn't come here if you were just going to call a car to take you home." Pat tells him. "You came cause you're about to collapse from blood loss or head injury or something. So how about instead of bleeding to death on your way home and leaving me to blame, we do something."
"Like what? I already told you I'm not going to call Will." Jay argues.
Pat doesn't answer, he thinks this through. He could just drag Jay over to the sink and stick his head under the water till he washed out all the blood, but he figured Jay might think he was trying to drown him. He could just call Will anyways but Jay seems insistent not to do that. Finally he turns and goes to dig in the freezer for some unidentifiable frozen ziplock bag and hands it to Jay. "Just sit here for a second."
When he comes back with the first aid kit, Jay is still sitting right where he left him. He'd be lying if he hadn't half figured, half hoped Jay would already be gone. The seriousness of this sinks in with Jay sitting, waiting. He's folded the paper towel he had been using to wipe blood to make a thin layer between the frozen bag and his head. His arm is stretched out on the table in front of him and he's resting his cheek. Pat can't tell from this angle if he's got his eyes closed but the one thing he knows for sure is not to sneak up on a sleeping Jay.
"So uh," Pat begins coming around to sit in front of Jay. "you think you got a concussion?"
Jay doesn't lift his head but he shrugs a little. "I don't think so, no. I Googled it."
"So you are guessing whether or not you have a concussion based on the internet?" He opens his meager first aid kit and pulls out some rubbing alcohol. He pours a little on the bath cloth he brought with him and motions for Jay to move the freezer bag. It's his first good look at the wound hidden in Jay's hair, it's looks roughly three inches long but it doesn't look deep. Just a little cut in the skin. "What exactly hit you?"
Jay lets out a soft chuckle. "Guy, slung me into a handrail. I was more worried about twisting my knee when I fell but then I realized I was pouring blood from my head."
Pat doesn't respond just finally presses the cloth against Jay's dark hair. It always darkens in the winter months, has since he was a kid. Jay lets out a little squeak but doesn't move. When he pulls the cloth away after a few moments he's satisfied to see that between the ice and the rubbing alcohol the bleeding seems to have almost stopped completely. He unwraps a sticky gauze bandage and gently presses it down around the wound.
"We'll keep it covered for tonight and see what it looks like when it's daylight." Pat tells him standing up. "Alright, lets get some sleep."
Jay nods. "Thanks, I guess. Well I'll be on my way."
"Shit." Pat says. "You'll sleep here, couch. I can't have you wondering off and going into some sort of coma because the Google said you didn't have a concussion."
Jay rolls his eyes but doesn't leave. In the living room, he kicks of his boot and takes off his jacket and button down before lastly pulling his jeans off, leaving himself in boxers and t-shirt just as Pat comes back with a couple of blankets and two Tylenol. He hands Jay the tablets then tosses one of the blankets on the couch and keeps a hold of one as he settles into his recliner.
"Kinda figured you'd be going to bed." Jay tells him after he dry swallows the Tylenol then carefully lays back onto the couch.
"I gotta wake you up in what like an hour or something?" Pat responds. He's found his remote and starts trying to find the unmute button. "Make sure your brain is still in that hard head of yours."
"Google said two or three." Jay mumbles.
"We're not going by that." He answers back. "And I promise you, first time you don't make sense I'm calling your brother, I'll keep your silly little secret but I'm calling him. I'll come up with something."
"What are you going to tell him happened?"
"I got tired of listening to you talk and slapped you upside the head with that ball bat." Pat tells him.
Jay lets out a little snort of laughter but doesn't say another word. Pat finally unmutes the tv and tilts his head to get a good look at his youngest son settling.
End.
Note - I think now it's medically advised against cleaning wounds with rubbing alcohol, kinda like butter on burns, but I feel like Pat Halstead would be a man of old school methods and it won't necessarily harm you. Anyways just the odd note for anyone who may see it as a medical blunder.
Anyways thanks for reading!