A Thousand Years
by Lady Dawson
Chapter Two: Hospital Friends
"Oh, my god, you are a lifesaver," her mother exclaimed enthusiastically when Hayden stepped into the waiting room the very next day, armed with about four cups of coffee, two bags of muffins, donuts, and about everything else from Luke's that she thought would survive the bus ride up to Hartford.
Since her mother was still at the hospital when she woke up, Hayden decided to spare her and her grandmother trying to survive on hospital food alone by bringing them real food. She doubted any of the diner food was up to her grandmother's standards but it was still better than whatever they were serving in the cafeteria.
"So that's all it takes?" she joked, setting the armload of stuff on the nearby table with her mother's assistance. She massaged her wrists where the bag's handle had been digging into it, leaving an indent. "'Cause if that's the case, then we really need to start giving the delivery guys better tips."
"We also flirt with the cute ones and that's a tip in itself," Lorelai replied with a grin, picking up the nearest coffee cup and inhaling it so fast that she resembled a fish on dry land, sighing in contentment. "Oh, my god . . . I forgot that coffee does not have to taste like it came straight from an oil can."
"Gross."
"And yet, very true of the machines that I can get to working because somehow, I cannot bribe my way into the nurse's station like you can," her mother said dryly, sitting back down and opening up a bag. "Ooh, you brought Danishes!"
"Hey, you're not the only one that can sweet talk Luke," Hayden said with grin, which was only partially true. As soon as she explained what she was doing, the diner owner started loading her down with more food than even Lorelai Gilmore could possibly consume, throwing in her favorite Danishes into the mix (and he was supposed to be convincing her that he didn't have a thing for her).
Glancing around the waiting room that consisted of several different families, Hayden asked, "Where's Grandma?"
"She went up with grandfather for some tests," her mother explained with a mouth full of cherry Danish. She swallowed and continued, "Sorry, sweets, they probably won't be back for a while; doctors said it might be a few hours."
"That's okay, just thought I should bring you guys decent food."
"And that was very sweet of you, but really, you should go home. Don't you have that big recital coming up next week?"
Hayden made a face. "Yeah . . ."
And truthfully, she would probably get more work done with no one else in the house. She had a tendency to punch the keys passionately (or as Lorelai preferred to say "angrily") whenever she made a mistake and her sister tried offering suggestions, despite never having taken a piano class in her life, and her mother would make cracks that next time she would have to pay half next time she broke the keyboard.
Hayden had yet to tell her that she'd already replaced the instrument when the keys started wearing out, but it just made practicing harder than it needed to be whenever comments like that were made.
"So, go home," Lorelai insisted, giving her a gentle nudge towards the door, "get in some practice and tonight, we'll gouge out on pizza and junk food, maybe have a movie night. Anything sound good? And do not say Star Wars," she added pointedly. "We've watched every single one multiple times already."
"Not Episode I," Hayden corrected cheekily. "It just got released last year and it's the one with Liam Neeson in it."
"And as much as I do like seeing him, I beg of you to pick something else. Anything else."
Rolling her eyes, Hayden muttered, "Fine. I'll watch it with Sally and Maisie." Her best friends didn't mind watching science fiction movies; in fact, they were usually the ones that insisted on it.
"Good girl. Now go home and make Mommy nervous."
Snorting, Hayden bid her goodbye before leaving the waiting room, making her way down the narrow hallway and past the nurse's station to the elevator and pressed the button. It took a few minutes for it to get there but there were two nurses chatting with one another when she stepped in, along with a patient in a wheelchair.
It was the patient that made her pause when she reached for the buttons, finger hovering above the one for the first floor that led to the bus station, and she bit her lip, thoughts jumping to John.
She was being stupid. Going to visit some random guy in the hospital that she just met the night before was borderline creepy and besides, he probably had tons of family that were there with him . . . he certainly didn't need her coming around.
Except . . . she couldn't help but remember how lonely he seemed when he talked to her and when the nurse herded him away. He even told her "see you soon," like he wanted to see her again but didn't expect to. And despite her reservations, she enjoyed talking to him during those ten minutes that they'd been sneaking around the ICU, avoiding the nurse's and making sure their break room was unoccupied.
It couldn't hurt . . . right?
One of the nurses noticed her hesitation and, probably thinking she was lost, asked kindly, "Which floor you looking for, sweetie?"
"Uh . . ." Hayden glanced at the buttons again and made up her mind. "The ICU, that's down on four, right?"
"Five," she corrected nicely.
"Oh, thanks."
And she pressed the button for five and away they went, stopping first at the third floor to drop everyone else off and to let a few more people on before heading down to five, where Hayden departed and sure enough, she recognized the waiting room where she'd unsuccessfully been trying to get coffee from.
She ducked her head when she spotted the same nurse from before but she wasn't quick enough because the eagle eyed woman saw her.
"Well . . . look who we have here," she said dryly. "John's friend, right?"
"Uh . . . yeah," she said sheepishly because that wasn't entirely true (she didn't even know his last name) but she didn't know what else to call herself. "I . . . I was just gonna visit him, if—if that was okay."
The nurse's eyes softened.
"I suppose that will be all right," she said, setting down the files she was sorting through. "Come on, let's go see if he's up for a visitor."
Relieved, Hayden fell into step behind her and headed down the hallway that looked the same from every angle, making her way her way down another and to a closed door. The nurse rapped on it twice before opening it.
"John, you've got a visitor."
Sure enough, Hayden heard a familiar voice asked in puzzlement, "Who?"
Hayden poked her head around the nurse to see a very small sanitary room that had no warmth to it. Well, half of it anyway. On one side, closer to the door, there were lots of flowers and decorations but on the other, it was completely bare without a single get well soon balloon but she recognized the person occupying its bed.
"Hey, hope I'm not interrupting anything."
John looked stunned to see her, but he shook his head as though to clear it. "Not unless you count getting every question wrong on Jeopardy as 'interrupting.' Come on in," he said, pushing himself up into a sitting position.
Letting out the sigh that she hadn't realized she was holding, Hayden joined him on the other side of the room, taking the empty seat next to the bed that looked like it hadn't been used in ages.
"Visiting hours are over at five, remember," the nurse said, "and John, they want to take you down for tests around two."
John heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I remember," he said grumpily.
She gave him a look before leaving. No sooner had the door closed behind her than John grumbled, "Old bat . . ."
He blushed when Hayden giggled. "Sorry, she just drives me crazy."
"I can imagine. How are you?"
"You mean, how am I feeling or . . .?"
"Just in general. You know, after a certain amount of time passes without seeing one another, people do tend to ask one another how they are. Granted, usually it's more than twelve hours, but you are the one lying in a hospital room."
John's blue eyes were laughing by the time she finished her long-winded explanation and she could tell he was having a hard time keeping a straight face as he said, "Point taken. I'm . . . better. Now, anyway."
She could tell. He looked better than he had even two minutes ago; the loneliness that she had seen when she first walked over here had disappeared completely and she felt a flash of anger towards whoever had decided to just leave him to fend for himself in a hospital. Where the hell were his parents anyway?
"How's your grandpa?"
"I think he's gonna be okay; they had him doing some tests when I dropped off food but they said last night they'll release him in a few days, assuming everything turns out okay. They talked about him changing his diet, exercising more . . . you know, the whole nine yards, but knowing my grandmother, she'll have him on a tight lease. He should be okay."
"That's good, I'm glad."
Hayden smiled, noticing R2-D2 sitting on the bedside table, watching them. "I see that you my card."
"Yeah, you didn't have to do that."
"I know I didn't. I wanted to."
John glanced at her sideways before settling down against the pillows. "So . . . do you live in Hartford or . . .?"
"Nah, a little town about forty minutes from here called Stars Hollow. Very strange, weird little town. But I was born at this hospital and my grandparents live in the area. My sister also goes to school up here."
"You don't?"
"Hell, no," Hayden laughed, trying to imagine herself in a plaid skirt. The image was too ridiculous. "No, Rory's the one that read books that weight more than a car and wants to get into Ivy League and spew Latin, not me, so she's the one that goes to the fancy prep school."
"Well, what do you like to do?"
"Huh?"
"What do you like to do?" he repeated. "Do you . . . I mean, do you have any hobbies or something?"
He sounded genuinely interested, which surprised her because honestly, most people were more interested in her twin when they heard about how smart she was. Even her mother and grandparents spent their time more invested in Rory and her brilliant future than they were about dumb Hayden.
"Um . . ." She swallowed, trying not to show her surprise. "I play the piano."
"Cool. You any good?"
"Not bad, I guess. I've got a recital next Friday—most of the local kids are playing in it, but I do have a solo."
"And that's good, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is," she agreed. Miss Patty, who, on top of her already impressive resume, taught piano, wouldn't have given her the opportunity if she didn't think that she could handle it; she never let anyone in her classes perform if she didn't think that they were ready. Sue Martin, who was Miss Patty's prized ballerina, wasn't allowed to perform the lead until Miss Patty was certain that she could take the pressure.
"So, how'd you get into that?" John wanted to know.
Hayden hesitated because, honestly, the story was a little personal but she saw the curiosity burning in his blue eyes and relented. "Well . . . I was probably around five . . . maybe six years old and my mother signed Rory and I up for ballet classes. And I was a terrible ballerina," she confessed, making him laugh, "but they played this music that was so beautiful and I thought the only way I could hear it was to keep going to class.
"Then one day, I got there early and Miss Patty was playing on the piano. And I . . . just fell in love with the instrument, the way that the music flowed from it, the smoothness of the ivories . . . next thing I knew, she was sitting me down and teaching me how to play 'London Bridge is Falling Down.' After that, I dropped out of ballet and Miss Patty's been teaching me piano every since."
"Is that the music teacher or . . ."
"Technically, she's the ballet teacher but she has done pretty much everything there is to do in show business, except for the whole jumping through fire thing. Or at least, that's what she claims," Hayden admitted with a grin. "I'm not sure how true most of her stories are. Sometimes, I think she just tells them just to keep things interesting."
"Does it work?"
"Sometimes," she agreed. "Anyway, what about you? What do you do for fun?"
Suddenly, the smile on John's face vanished and he looked awkward, fiddling with the blankets and playing with a loose thread. "Um . . . I don't know . . . haven't really been doing much except watch TV . . ."
"Well, you're stuck in a hospital, that doesn't count—there's no much else to do here," she pointed out. "What about when you're not in the hospital? Do you play any sports or anything?" He looked like he might; he was lean but muscular. "Come on, I won't make fun . . . unless it's really embarrassing . . ."
John managed a weak smile. "Really, I—I don't know . . ."
"How could you not know?" Hayden asked, raising a brow. "I mean, unless it's really embarrassing and you just don't want to tell me. What, do you collect stamps or something?"
"What?" John started laughing. "No!"
"Or maybe you spend your days stalking celebrities? That's your thing, isn't?"
"People do that?"
Giggling, Hayden continued, "All right, all right, I've got it. Your hobby is that you are a competitive duck herder."
John was laughing so hard by now that his face resembled a tomato, falling back against his pillow as he clutched his side. "Stop!" he said between bouts of laughter. "Now you're just making these up!"
"Am I?"
"You've got to be. Competitive duck herder?"
"Hey, I never make things up," she replied, tossing her brown hair over her shoulder and grinning impishly. "Come on, I told you mine. I promise, I will not make fun. Or I can come up with more weird hobbies . . ."
"No, please don't," he begged her, blue eyes still shining with mirth. "I don't think I'll be able to get the image of 'duck herder' out of my head anytime soon." Hayden grinned. "But . . . I don't know what I like to do . . . it's complicated."
"So uncomplicate it," Hayden suggested, shrugging. "If you don't know what you like to do, then the obvious solution is figure something out. Tell you what, when you get out of here, we'll check some stuff out."
John looked startled. "You . . . want to hang out?"
"Isn't that what we're doing now?"
He frowned at her. "But . . . I mean . . . you don't have to."
"I know I don't. But I want to," she said truthfully. And she meant it; even though she hadn't known him for a full day, didn't even know his last name, she wanted to come back. He was a nice guy and she honestly wanted to get to know him better. "Unless you don't want me to come back . . ."
"No, that's not what I—" He took a deep breath. "I know it's not exactly fun, sitting around here doing nothing."
"We don't have to do nothing. I can bring stuff to do. In fact . . ." She reached for her backpack that she had dropped at her feet, pulling out the CD player she normally carried around when she needed to tune out the world. There were about half a dozen CDs that she had stowed, for whatever she felt like listening to. "We can listen to music right now. I've got country, some rock, a couple boy bands . . . oh, and the classic," she added, holding up the "Now, That's What I Call the 1990s." "Little bit of everything. So, John, what do you want to listen to first?"
He hesitated. "Jonny."
"What?"
"My name. I . . . kind of like Jonny better, just without the h."
Hayden smiled. "Okay, Jonny-without-an-h. What sounds good first?"
AN: Okay, I suck because it took me four months to come up with this. Sorry about that. Also, I am not a nurse, nor do I spend much time at the hospital, so if I got any of the mumbo jumbo hospital lingo wrong, tell me what to fix and I will happily do so. And if any of the "hobbies" is something that somebody does, I apologise but I really just looked up "weird hobbies" online and that's what it came up with. And as for any all pop culture references, both here and future chapters, I do my best to not include something that wouldn't have been out during G.G.'s first season, but I am human so bear with me if I wrote something that is not timeline correct. Again, feel free to correct me and I will fix it.
Okay, now that I'm done with all the apologies, I hope that you liked this chapter and I hope that you review!