Author's Note: Thanks for everyone's interest so far. Another quick chapter which is mostly background filler. Mainly AU.
CHAPTER 1 Barnetts vs Streets
He wasn't sure what he was looking for in Baton Rouge. It had been three weeks since ... well ... everything happened. In the interim, he had done absolutely nothing constructive, unless you factored in all the countless visits to doctors, physiotherapists, and counsellors. His days were filled with a parade of in-home nurses who came in shifts to take care of him. Things he used to do by himself liked getting in and out of bed was assisted by one or two other people.
His mother in her infinite wisdom, thought it was best to keep everything as "normal" as possible. His childhood bedroom was on the second floor. Have you ever tried walking up the stairs without any legs? It was not only demeaning, but an absolute farce to be carried up and down two flights. He finally had enough. The study/computer room on the main level was cleared out. His furniture relocated. His new wheelchair was pushed to the side of the bed.
Yes - he was still in the wheelchair. His meeting to get fitted for prostheses was delayed due to his move down to Baton Rouge.
Now, he hated that he kept bumping into walls and banging his elbows in the entrance way. He cursed when he couldn't wheel himself through doors if he happened to have his guitar draped across his lap. He had trouble with the simplest tasks like bending down and leaning over to pick up something.
Everything took three times longer than it should. One was the bath. He had always been the five-minute-showers kind of guy. After all, he was used to sleeping in until the very last moment before the start of his shift.
He didn't like his new 'reality' and his bitterness showed. His sarcasm had taken on a cynic edge. His punk music was cranked up the max, with the bass turned on to a volume which would be considered impolite for general society. He just didn't like all the talk about making the best of a bad situation, or that he was strong and would come out of this in the end. The finding-the-silver-lining-behind-the-cloud talk fell to deaf ears. Seriously, how could you tell a guy that things would get easier, when he was fighting bilateral swelling and possible contracture?
oOoOo
Jasey Barnett looked out worriedly to where her son had parked himself at the patio. That's where Ray now spent most of his days - outside, weather permitting, with his guitar.
And for all intents and purposes, the anger and frustration was partly due to self-pity and there was nothing that she could do to get him out of it. She tried telling herself that it was just a phase that would pass with time. The fact that he couldn't get fitted for new prosthesis didn't help matters. She knew her son well. He was always so headstrong and stubborn. The rocker/jock was just a front because deep down, Ray Wesley Barnett cared very much with his passionate heart.
She knew that he hurt deeply and she figured that it had something to do with a girl. The fact that he had only sent a curt resignation letter, with no word to any of his friends and colleagues, was a sign enough. Not to mention, that he clamped up with even the mere mention of Neela Ragostra's name.
With no way to get through to her only child, she left him to wallow in his music. What was a mother to do when her son shuts out the world?
Her musings were interrupted by the ranging of the phone. She pulled herself from looking out the window and hunt down the cordless. "Hello?"
oOoOo
Nearly an hour after picking up the phone, Jasey Barnett was exhausted. She sank down to the couch and buried her head in her hands. She looked up as Ray called from the patio. "Mom? Who was on the phone?"
She got up and walked outside until she was sitting eye level with her son and said, "Honey, I have something to tell you."
Jasey Street grew up in Dillon, Texas. Unlike most of the locals, she didn't care much about football. She never saw the excitement in watching a bunch of men throwing a pigskin around. There really wasn't any point to all that tackling and fumbling. Her opinion didn't change even when she went to high school. She wasn't a cheerleader; she never tried out for the team and she certainly never dated a football player. Her biggest wish was to get the heck out of this little old town, because she didn't want to spend the rest of her life in the Lonestar State.
Her views were antithetical to that of her younger brother, Mitchell, or "Mitch" as everybody called him. Mitch was a stereotypical Texan who grew up in a small town loving football. Friday nights revolved around getting ice-cream before heading towards to the field watching the Panthers playing against a visiting team. He didn't get along with his sister and could never understand her fascination with uprooting herself to live out of state. There weren't much that they could talk about and their seven year age difference didn't help matters.
Jasey moved out as soon as she hit eighteen and never looked back and to eleven year old Mitch, his sister's departure meant that he had a new room to himself. Jasey chose to live with a great-aunt, Francine, in Baton Rouge, Louisiana and studied Art and Design at Louisiana State. That's what she wanted to do, until she hit her sophomore year. One drink too many with the wrong date and next thing she knew she was pregnant and the father was missing in action.
Although she was thankful that she had a place to stay in Baton Rouge, it was hard being a young single mother. She went to school part time, going through her pregnancy. She almost dropped out after Ray's birth, but one look into that cherub face, and she knew that she couldn't give up, if only for her son.
She stayed in touch by phone with her folks in Dillon, but received little sympathy or support. Jasey and Mitch had the barest of conversations, only catching each other on the occasional if one happened to answer the phone. To his credit, Mitch never shied away from his nephew especially when he himself got married to Joanne Burke and had his first son, Jason Street. As a result of that, Jasey decided to go with the surname, Barnett, after great aunt Francine, who took it upon herself to help raise and take care of Jasey and her newborn son.
oOoOo
"So, what are you saying, mom?"
The last time Ray visited Dillon was probably when he was twelve and his cousin was two. He remembered playing catch with his Uncle Mitch in the back yard, while baby Jason was cuddled in his blankets in his stroller.
Throughout the next couple of years, Ray and his mom divided time between schooling in Philadelphia and summers with 'Aunt' Francine in Baton Rouge. Jasey was lucky to land a position with a publishing company that has a branch in Philly. There was the rare family gathering that was far in between; Texas was one of the further things on their minds.
"That was your Uncle Mitch who just called."
"And?"
"Something has happened to you cousin, Jason. There was an accident during one of his high school football games. The doctor said that the injury was at the C7 area ... I don't know. You'll probably understand better than I do. Anyways, Mitch said that it looks pretty bad and Joanne is absolutely devastated...
"What? C7? ... Mom stop it, you're babbling." It didn't take long for Ray to deduce the outcome, "So, what are you saying? Jason's paralyzed?"
End of Chapter 1
AN: Hope that the relationship between Barnetts and Streets didn't confuse you guys.