NOW:
Consciousness seemed impossible to grasp.
Jaime would slowly come to, the blurry world around him a burst of blinding white, before the weight of his eyelids dragged him under and he retreated back to the welcoming darkness.
The second time he tried to swim back to the surface, he thought he had seen the distinct outline of his curly headed brother. The stocky figure had been sitting next to him, thumbing through a colossal novel, but Jaime rendered the image a figment of his imagination and succumbed again.
The third time, there were unfamiliar voices wafting over him. A gloved finger pulled at his eyelid, having peeled the greasy skin back before doing the same to the other. Jaime had tried to recoil, but his heavy limbs did not cooperate.
The final time he came to, Tyrion loomed at his left side with a poor excuse of a smile.
"Welcome back."
Jaime owlishly blinked at his younger brother. He swallowed the little saliva he had in his mouth, and pushed his head back. A pillow cushioned his aching skull, and he sighed. He closed his eyes. They felt gritty.
"What happened?" He didn't miss how hoarse he sounded.
"That's what I should be asking you," Tyrion replied in amusement, "But your lovely partner already filled me in." The smaller man clambered into a chair that had been pushed close to Jaime's side, and twiddled his stubby thumbs. "It seems you and Miss Brienne are responsible for bringing down the infamous Littlefinger, and his merry band of Bloody Mummers."
"How?"
"I recorded everything," a voice broke in from his right side.
Jaime gingerly opened his eyes, and glanced askance to the towering form seated there.
"I don't understand."
Brienne glanced across Jaime's prone form, and met his brother's eyes. She had so many things to tell Jaime, so many things to fill him in on, but there was one pressing matter that needed to be addressed first. Tyrion nodded gravely, and then reached forward to take Jaime's left hand in his own.
Startled, Jaime looked down at their clasped fingers.
"Jaime," Tyrion took a deep breath, "You suffered a serious head injury. Do you recall that?"
He nodded slowly.
"You've been in a coma for two weeks."
"I-" Jaime grimaced. "How? I woke up afterward."
"You were also seriously concussed," Tyrion admonished. "And we think that when you incurred that injury, you also received a rather nasty gift." The smaller man stared pointedly at Jaime's right arm. Jaime tried to clench the fingers of his right hand as he recalled the piece of wood that had punctured it. Nothing happened. Tyrion quickly rushed through the rest of his explanation as Jaime frantically tried to pull his arm out from under the blanket it was covered by.
"The doctor said the wood severed your ulnar flexor tendon," Tyrion hurriedly said, "Which would have been possible to repair with surgery, but the wood itself fragmented into splinters; they were too small and too many, Jaime, and the doctors tried their best – They really did, but the wound became septic, and the best option was to remove the hand entirely."
Jaime stared in horror at his right hand. Or at the space where his right hand should have been. He raised his maimed arm to his eyes; chapped lips parted and blue eyes wide in shock.
"My hand," he croaked, "Where the fuck is my hand?"
The leftover stump was wrapped in several layers of thick gauze.
"I'm so sorry," Brienne said, but she was sure he wasn't listening.
"As soon as you're able, we're going to see someone about fitting you with a prosthetic," Tyrion added in an attempt to sooth his brother. "They are quite versatile and fully functional in this day and age."
"I'm a fucking cop," Jaime hissed as he snapped his face toward his brother. "They won't let me stay on with a fucking prosthetic hand." His chest rose and fell rapidly under his heavy breathing. "How?" He turned to face Brienne. "What happened?"
Brienne blinked. "I got there as fast as I could."
"How did we get out?" Jaime ground out from behind clenched teeth. His maimed arm was still raised in between them.
She perked a pale brow. "I called for back-up before arriving there. As you should have done." She ignored the look of warning Tyrion shot her.
"You were my back-up." He felt so damned tired, but he needed to know everything. "You work for the FBI. Catelyn Tully hired you to find Sansa." It lilted like a question, so Brienne nodded in affirmation.
"Abusing her power like that?" Jaime snarled mockingly. "She should be fired."
"She resigned a few days ago."
Jaime managed to look surprised at that. His thin lips visibly pursed through his beard.
"She promised she would once Sansa was found and returned home."
"And was she?"
The maimed arm was gingerly lowered to his lap.
He' going to ignore it's gone, she realized. He's going to pretend everything is fine. She met Tyrion's heavy gaze. And he still doesn't know.
"Yes," she informed him softly. "Baelish folded under Clegane's persuasive, um, interrogation. He claimed to have no intention to drug and sell her. He wanted to keep her for himself. But she's back home now, with her family, where she belongs."
Brienne produced a black tape recorder, and held it up for him to see. "When we were there, while you were unconscious, I managed to get the whole story out of Baelish. Including the involvement of Daenerys Targaryen."
"A recorder?" Jaime frowned. "Where in the hell did you get the idea for that?"
"From you." At his perplexed raise of an eyebrow, she continued carefully, "When we went out for drinks the other night – that night - I came up to your apartment." At his nod of remembrance, she continued, "When you were in the bathroom, I went through your end stand, and saw a tape recorder."
The previously perked eyebrow was now furrowed in a deep scowl. "Amongst other things, I'm sure." His voice was full of heat, but his eyes did not meet hers.
"Yes," she admitted, "But it gave me an idea. I bought one for myself, and then you started to act off when Varys gave you that note, and then you canceled our plans before sending me an address...I brought it along. I figured it couldn't hurt, and Baelish was only too happy to recount his entire story all over again; he figured out who I truly worked for, and just wanted to gloat. Fortunately for us all."
Jaime let out a tired sigh.
"You went through my things," he muttered. "After I told you my deepest secret."
"Yes," she repeated. Her large blue eyes were apologetic, but he didn't look up to see them.
But that's not your deepest secret.
Brienne mouthed a silent apology to Tyrion, who accepted with a dip of his head.
"I saw everything. Including the photos of you. And your family."
Jaime's heart stuttered in his aching chest.
"My family." He had crafted a careful air in his voice, but it faltered under her piercing stare.
"You, Tyrion. Your sister, and her children." She took a deep breath, and added, "Your children, I think."
"I don't-" He swallowed thickly. He felt dizzy. Tyrion's hand around his tightened.
"There have been rumors going on for years, Jaime. People on the force talk, and I work at a federal agency." She paused. "And I found the note from Varys in your pocket, when we brought you here."
Robert knows.
"He was warning you."
Jaime's face crumpled. "I've been here," Jaime claimed mournfully, "And Robert knows."
"The children are safe, brother," Tyrion informed him gently.
"I'm so sorry, but Cersei is dead." Brienne figured the worst of the news should come from her. "Robert killed her before we could get there in time, but she managed to get him too."
Cersei. My golden Cersei.
He took a deep, shuddering breath.
Then he saw his wrapped up stump, and his weak attempt at trying to stifle all of his emotions broke out in a wet, body-racking sob. He pulled his left hand out from Tyrion's soft grip, and held it to his face, trying to curl his bruised body into itself and disappear from the pitying stares of the others.
"Get out," he managed between another shuddering sob.
"Jaime-"
"Get the fuck out!"
Tyrion waddled around the bed, and gently touched Brienne's shoulder. She stood, cast one last look at Jaime's shaking, curled up form, and sighed. She followed him out as Jaime's sobs rang in her ears.
TBC...
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