A/N I lost a buttload of reviews because I am a fail,(as my teen son would say), at figuring out Gmail when there are multiple replies from one source. If I didnt reply to you, or if you got two replies, you have my sincere apologies.
As for the questions and comments some of you have had about the music I listen to when I write this? Lately its been "Mechanical People" and the older 100 Monkeys songs. I have mixed in some Waits, but for some reason the Mechanical People have really fit the mood of parts of this story. Songs about longing and the impossibility of living the life you dream of, those have really suited.
He was so fucking fragile. He had been technically healed of his physical injuries, but he hadn't hardly benefited from any of the work they had done to try and rebuild the strength in his body, and as for his mind? Fucked was the best way to describe it. He flipped from numb to angry to depressed to numb all over again, and that was just within one hour. He was the poster child for hyper vigilance for all the good it would do him, because he couldn't have fought off a wet kitten. The scars on his mind were at least as bad as the scars on his body, and it was apparent he needed some serious counseling and maybe some time out of the hospital.
Because he was considered a risk and fragile, he hadn't left the rehab facility for any kind of outside trips or shopping or any kind of normal, human life. He didn't have any clothes of his own, which was just as well because none of them would have fit him as skinny as he was. I had brought him a change to wear so I could take him out, but I didn't know if he was even capable of being out in public, he looked like a good, stiff wind would blow him over. I had a whole couple of days out planned for us, including seeing that goofy little band he was so fond of. I had managed to score tickets to their show at a local venue and after I had emailed them a Fed approved version of his story, they had even sent VIP passes for him to meet the band before the show. We had a few days to get him into shape, and to figure out if he was even up to it, but I hoped he would perk up with some steady attention and hope for a better tomorrow.
Jas, you need to be working on getting out of here. You don't weigh as much as a 12 year old and they told me you weren't eating or cooperating with counseling. Why would you quit like that? That isn't you. You always drove harder, fought longer and tried harder than anyone I knew, but just laying there in your own filth, giving up? You cant do that!
"I should have fought harder. I should have gotten away. I cant remember anything except for his voice and what they did, so what use am I? Even you and Emmett gave up on me."
Jas, we didn't have a choice. If we had kept vanishing and coming over here, someone would have gotten wise and they might have gone looking for you. We have been looking under every rock, considering every source and doing all we can to try and find enough evidence to find the ones who did this to you, but we have nothing. If I didn't have Emmett's warning to go off of and then finding you right after they dumped you out on the Devils Highway, we would have never known for, and as it stands, that evidence is not admissible because its hearsay and we don't have the story of finding you out on the Devils Highway because according to the department and the Feds, that never happened. Jasper Whitlock was killed in the line of duty by subjects unknown, he was kidnapped, tortured and then set on fire at my front gate. He was buried in Veterans Cemetery under full honor guard and as far as anyone knows, I have searched for your killers ever since. The Feds are helping with the case, but even they are stumped. There is basically nothing tying anyone to you, so we have been trying to catch him on anything else so we will have an excuse to turn that dump he calls a home, upside down.
Jasper seemed to shrink as I explained all of that to him. Maybe he had thought he was going to be able to come back and help with the investigation, but he needed to be made aware of just what had gone on.
Look, lets not worry about all of that right now. Lets figure out how we can get you back to being you. I was going to get an overnight pass from your doc, and take you out to dinner and to the coast, but it appears we need to get you some damn clothes that will fit and some food in you, so how about we work on going down to the cafeteria for some lunch and you show me that you can eat, and then we will discuss the rest of the week. He didn't need to know that I had planned on spending a day or two seeing where he was at and meeting with his doctors. I damn sure needed to have a conversation with them about why he had just been warehoused.
He wasn't up to walking to the cafeteria, but I encouraged him to at least push the wheel chair and try walking part of the way there. He was sweaty and shaky, but being the stubborn ass I knew he was, he made it all the way there. I went and loaded down a tray with all the selections they had, anything to try and get him to eat, and he looked at me like I had lost my mind when I set the tray in front of him.
"Are you crazy? I cant even eat half of this. I've been on a liquid diet for the last six months, if I even tried it I would be sick as a dog."
Well, I want you to at least try some of the lighter stuff and don't worry, not all that was for you. I am hungry too!.
He took one shaky sip of the soup that I had brought and moaned. "Oh my God! That is soo good!" I tried to convince my dick to not react to that, and failed miserably. I had missed him in many, many ways,(not the least of which was in the bedroom), but I felt like a freak perving after him when he was still so run down, but if he made many more sounds like that, I would walking behind that wheelchair.
He didn't manage to eat much more than the soup, but it was a start. He was drooping pretty badly as lunch was over, so I got him loaded into the wheelchair and I pushed him back to his room. He was totally out by the time we made it into the room, so I just picked him up and tucked him back into his bed. I figured I would let him nap while I went and took care of some business I had needed to tend to.
The overnight pass was a hard sell, but since we were going to be staying in the city and close to the rehab facility, they realized that he needed some time out to just be a person again. He wasn't going to be left alone for even a minute, and he did need some clothes and things to make his life feel more normal again. The counselor agreed with me on that point, so with a wheelchair to back up the cane the wanted him using at all times, we got cleared for that. The psychological issues were going to be more of a problem. They had him on so many medications for sleep, pain, depression and all kinds of other issues they thought he might have.
How many of these medications can you people drop him off of now? He needs to get to functioning as best he can without so many or he wont be able to have a career or any kind of life outside of here, and I can tell you for a fact, the money will dry up pretty quick at the rate you are going.
It got a bit heated for a little bit as we argued back and forth, but I got them to develop a plan to wean him off of all of them over the next six weeks so unless he had major issues, he would be leaving the facility drug free.
After getting done with the docs, I went out to my truck to collect his clothes and his boots that I had brought with me. I knew the jeans and the fucking monkey shirt were going to hang on him, but hopefully he would be able to keep then up long enough to get into a store where we could get him some stuff that would fit. A quick call to the Feds to update them on the new information he had given me, as well as a call to Emmett to let him know he was talking, and I was headed back inside.
He was still out when I walked back into his room, so I decided to take a bit of a nap myself. The damn place was so damn noisy with all the door slamming and banging around, it was amazing he had slept at all. I groaned, dreading spending the next couple of days trying to sleep in such a noisy setting, but for him, I was willing to try anything. He seemed to be pretty restless as he slept, muttering and shifting around to the point that he had uncovered himself in short order. The flimsy scrubs they had loaned him weren't very warm or comfortable, so I made a command decision and went over and shut the door to the room, locking it behind me. I didn't want to overwhelm him by just crawling in and wrapping him up in my arms, so I did the next best thing, I sat on the edge of the narrow bed, and waited for him to wake up enough to realize I was there, then kicking off my boots, I lay down with my back to him and gently pulled his arm around me so he could decide what was comfortable for him.
He was still for a few moments and I worried that I had over-stepped what he was able to handle, but then he began tracing random patterns on my chest.
"You know, I sure missed the smell of your hair, and how it felt to have you wrapped up around me, but most of all I missed being kissed. It feels like forever since I have been kissed."
I could take care of that if you wanted me to. I haven't been kissed in the same length of time and I have missed it too. I had just gotten used to doing it, and then all of the sudden I had to stop again, so it may take me a little while to get back to being used to it.
I slowly rolled over and faced him as he looked at me. Can I kiss you?
"I think that is why you rolled over, isn't it?" He smiled at me as I ran my fingers through his hair. I think I like this look on you. Are you going to keep it long or are you planning on cutting it?
"I haven't given it much thought, in fact I didn't even know it was that long until you pointed it out to me. I guess the nurses kinda liked it so they took care of it for me."
I leaned down and kissed him as I said, You always have had great hair.
He moaned softly as we kissed and at first I wasn't sure it was pleasure or pain, but as he pulled himself tight up against me, I realized it was pleasure. Laying there kissing him was the best feeling I had experienced in months and I realized he was feeling the same way. His kisses became more frantic and intense, and before long he was pulling at my clothes. "God! I want you so damn bad! I know they tested me and Im clean. Please, Edward, Please?"
Damn Jas, you don't have to beg me, ever. I just don't want you to hurt yourself.
He about had my shirt stripped off as I told him to wait a moment.
I got up and walked over to my bag. I hadn't packed any supplies other than some hand lotion for dry skin, but anything in a pinch. I stripped off completely and walked over to him, taking a moment to watch as he struggled to get out of the scrubs they had put him in. I helped him with the top as he kicked the pants off and practically threw them across the room.
"Would you come here already? I think I about wore myself out just getting that damn shirt off, so this may not last too long." Leaning down and kissing him deeply, I handed him the lotion and asked, So how do you want me?
He pulled me down next to him, and said, "How about on your side? Like I said, that shirt kicked my ass, so I may not have much left to kick yours."
I stretched out beside him as he took charge, sweat already pouring off of him, and went to work trying to get me ready. His hands were already shaking and I could feel his heart racing as he tried to patiently prepare me, so I took pity on him.
Jas, lets go. I'm dying for you. You are just dying, im ready. C'mon. I no more than said the words than he was sliding home. It was all I could do to not grunt, but I was afraid if I did he would stop, and I damn sure didn't want him to stop. He grabbed ahold of my hip and my shoulder and as best he could, he went to town.
There was a frantic, frenetic almost angry, drive behind him and I knew it was partially his need to reestablish himself with me, and partially the need to rebuild his own sense of worth as a man.
It didn't take either of us very long. He was running out of steam and I was close from the minute he slid home. As I came, that seemed to be all he needed, and he grunted and grasped me tighter, cumming for what felt like forever before he slumped back to the bed in exhaustion. We both lay there for a few minutes, waiting for our hearts to slow down and knees to stop shaking. "I think I am hungry now."
That made us both laugh and I got up to get a washcloth to clean up a bit of the mess. Can you stand up long enough to shower? I will push you down to dinner, but you need to clean up a little before we go mixing in polite company again.
" I think I can manage that, but you better come along just in case."
He wasn't kidding. The poor guy could hardly make it into the bathroom, but I got him situated back on the bench and he managed to get washed up as I took care of myself. I helped him get dried off and dressed back in some scrubs in order to save his clothes for the outing, but I was really beginning to worry if he was going to be able to handle all the excitement of the day I had planned. I was going to have to book a room really close to the venue and make sure the venue had a handicapped seat set aside for him so he wouldn't get trampled by rampaging fan girls.
Dinner was a little better than lunch. He seemed to have built up an appetite and I was happy to see him try a little bit of solid food. I was sure the doctors would be less than thrilled about our interlude, but he seemed happier and more connected.
Tomorrow they want to assess you. Since you have been less than cooperative with them, they don't know what all you can or cant do, so tomorrow they are going to check all that out, and talk to you as well.
"Another fucking psyche consult? Don't those assholes know that it just makes things worse to keep dragging that shit back up? I don't want to have some shrink who has never been outside of a classroom, poking around in my head, telling me how fucked up I am."
Jas! Slow your roll. They just are trying to assess the best way to make sure you are fit for duty, if you want to go back to work. You wont be dealing with some civilian, they are bringing in a specialist to talk to you. They work not only with Vets, but with trauma victims. I want you to promise me you will talk to them and at least try ? Please, for me? Its actually something we instituted at the department because of what happened to you. The officers that handled the scene didn't do so well, so we had a shrink come in and talk with them. It seemed to help and I even ended up talking to them. I know you have been through a lot before, but this is different and you are different now. Please? At least give them a try?
"All right, Ill at least talk to them, but Edward, I learned how to handle this kind of stuff when I was a Marine, its always been my philosophy and it gets me through, its called, "Fuck it, drive on."
Jas, this is too much to drive on from. Even I had to get some help and I was just the one who tried to pick up the pieces. You lived it. Give them a session or two and if it doesn't seem to help, then you can drop it, but they are going to be decreasing your meds, and that might impact you more than you expect.
I got him to agree to meet with them and that was progress. The next day was going to be stressful on both of us, so after dinner I helped him back into bed and locking the door I crawled into bed behind him and we were quickly, deeply, asleep for the first time in many, many, months.