Title: Impact
Fandom: Company
Rating: High T to low M for character death, injuries, SERIOUS angst, self-destructive behaviour, and some sex (nothing too explicit) in later chapters
Pairing(s): Joanne/Larry, Joanne/Bobby
Disclaimer: I do not own Company or any of the characters therein.
Notes: This fic came to me during a bout of insomnia. The first six chapters or so were written when I'd been awake for over 40 hours straight, so I apologize for any inconsistencies or mistakes. The version of Company I'm going off of – the characterization I'm basing this on and the cast that I see in my head – is the 2011 New York Philharmonic concert version with Neil Patrick Harris and Patti LuPone. I'd also like to say a couple things:
1) I feel very bad when I kill off a character in a fanfic, even an original character, but in this case it's kind of the point of the fic, so it was necessary. It makes for an interesting story, I hope. It was certainly interesting to write.
2) My medical knowledge has almost entirely been gleaned from Wikipedia and episodes of House M.D., so I'm pretty sure there are lots of wild inaccuracies, but I did the best I could with what I have.
I would also like to say that I spent several hours trying to figure out what Joanne and Larry's last name should be. It's remarkable how many things somehow don't work.
Bobby stood outside the bar, glancing down at his watch every minute or so. Half an hour. Half an hour since Joanne and Larry were supposed to meet him there. They were never late. He'd tried calling them twice already, but no one had answered the phone either time. He was starting to feel a little uneasy. He paced up and down the sidewalk, not sure what to do.
A couple minutes later, he hailed a cab and gave the driver Joanne and Larry's address. The feeling of uneasiness had formed a knot in his stomach, and he couldn't stand waiting any longer. He had to find out what the hell was going on.
A couple blocks from their townhouse, he caught sight of flashing blue and red lights. He felt the knot of uneasiness in his stomach tighten. Without thinking he yelled for the cabbie to stop and got out. He squinted into the night. It looked like there had been some sort of accident. There were police cars, an ambulance pulling away from the scene with its sirens blaring, two twisted and shattered hunks of metal that had once been cars, and a crowd of onlookers, whispering and chattering amongst themselves. Bobby found his feet carrying him towards the catastrophe, a sense of horror settling over him. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd, and felt a cold panic grip his chest.
One of the cars was Larry's.
