Hephaestus Black (half_a_man) wrote in supernextdoor, @ 2012-07-11 11:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | #group scene, 10.17.11, jd, tessa, vince |
Who: JD, Vince and Tessa
What: First meetings and unfavorable impressions
Where: JD’s apartment block
When: Monday 17th
Warnings: Language and a cranky soldier.
JD was out. Home free. Well, just about. He had a wheelchair in the back of Vince’s car, along with his duffel, and enough meds to open his own damn pharmacy. He was wearing his prostheses, and had his crutches wedged between the car door and his leg. And he ached. From head, to toe. Much as he’d deny it, he was incredibly grateful for Vince’s help - there was no way he’d get all of his stuff from a taxi up to his apartment without assistance. His apartment building was a ugly red brick cube with a temperamental elevator, no central air, or much in way of mod cons. His bathroom hadn’t been revamped since the Partridge family were charming middle America, with a mustard yellow suite and a peeling laminate vanity. The kitchen appliances weren’t much better - although they were at least newer. All in all, it wasn’t exactly home sweet home.
He winced as Vince’s truck halted outside the door, staring at the front walk. No steps there - but if the elevator was out of whack, it was a long flight up to his first floor apartment. “Let’s do this,” he muttered, opening the car door and unbuckling his seatbelt. He pulled his crutches out of the way before swinging his legs round, still getting used to the way they responded to his movements, the ‘intelligent knees’ more than a little freaky.
Vince still hadn't apologized, even though he knew he should. He'd get to that once they got up stairs into JD's apartment. He felt like an asshole still and he planned to rectify that. "Yeah," he said as he tucked his keys into his pocket. He climbed out of the cab and headed round the back to get the wheelchair and the duffle out. He knew that JD wasn't willing to get into the chair and he couldn't blame him. He wanted to have some independence. Vince could understand that. Duffle over one shoulder and the wheelchair under his arm, he looked at JD. "You ready?" he asked him. It was the only way he could really say 'need some help?' without saying it.
“Yeah,” JD nodded, looking at the pavement as he slid his arms into the grips of the crutches, levering himself to his feet. He blew out a breath, cheeks puffed up for a moment as he shifted his grip a little, then started to walk. He was unsteady, and his stumps were already rubbing, already sore, but he managed to make it to the door. Couldn’t quite manage to get the door open himself, so he let Vince handle that. He’d been surprised to see his friend again, but he’d appreciated the offer to help him get out of hospital. It meant a lot. Once inside, he headed for the stairs, glancing at the elevator doors and seeing an ‘out of order’ sign ductaped to the doors. Well, he’d been planning on having a workout, he guessed it just made that decision a little easier. “You wanna go ahead? I don’t wanna fall on you when you haven’t got hands to catch me,” he drawled, looking over at Vince.
Vince wanted to offer to help him, wanted to tell him he'd carry him up the damned stairs if he wanted. But JD was a stubborn bastard so he sighed and nodded. "Lemme have your keys and I'll get this stuff put away and open the door and then I'll come back to make sure you don't break your arms," he commented. It was easier to say that than to offer the guy help. It still meant the same thing as far as he was concerned. Surely JD would understand the sentiment as well.
JD looked down at his pocket, grimacing. Yeah, he didn’t want Vince’s hand that close to his junk. He shuffled sideways enough that he could lean against the wall, crutch dangling from his elbow as he rifled through his pocket for his keys. He was gonna have to do something about that - get a lanyard or something, to keep his keys on. “Here,” he said, handing Vince the keys. “Just wait up there,” he added gruffly. He needed to know he could do this, needed to know if he could get in and out of his damn apartment by himself. “I’ll yell if I need help,” he promised grudgingly.
He was about to protest, but he simply took the keys and nodded. "Alright," he told the man, heading up the stairs with the bag and the wheelchair. He wanted to help JD, but the man was more stubborn than he'd thought. He couldn't exactly force him to accept any help now could he?
JD pushed himself off the wall, wobbling for a moment before he got his crutches sorted, facing up the stairs. Which yeah, seemed a hell of a lot longer than they had the last time he’d been here. He shifted his grip on the crutches, taking a deep breath before taking his first step. Then another. And another. By the time he reached the landing, halfway up, he was shaking hard, sweat soaking the neck of his t-shirt. He could see Vince, hovering worriedly. “I’m fine,” he insisted, calling up to him. “Just go in, I’ll be there in a minute.” Or ten. Needing a break, he lowered himself awkwardly onto the step, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes as he tried to remember how to breathe without gasping in pain.
Tessa was just getting off work, about to head up to her apartment, when she saw the man sitting on the landing, crutches close by him. She frowned a little as she began her path up the steps, stopping a few down from him. "Hi," she smiled, making sure not to look the least bit concerned for his sake. Obviously he was having some trouble with the way sweat clung to the next of his shirt. "You're new," she commented. "I haven't seen you around here before."
Oh great. Because meeting a smoking hot girl on the stairs to his apartment when he looked and felt like shit, that was what he needed. He jerked his head in a nod of greeting when she said hi, arching an eyebrow. “I’ve been away,” he answered, shortly. Of course, the fact that his coat shifted aside as he moved, showing a small crest with ‘Walter Reed Medical Center’ on his tshirt, probably gave away where he’d been. And what his profession was.
She did indeed notice the crest on his shirt. She knew the place and knew that it was for soldiers. That explained why he'd been away. It also explained his injuries a little more. And his moodiness. She couldn't really blame him there. She offered out a hand to him and put on another smile. "I'm Theresa," she murmured. "Well, Tessa. Call me Tessa," she went on. He was cute, he could have her nickname.
He eyed the hand, not sure if she was offering to shake his hand, or help him up. The first was fine - the second really wasn’t. He set down his crutch, wiping his hand on the leg of his pants before taking her hand, shaking it firmly. “JD,” he said in reply. Yeah, technically it was a nickname, but he’d never gone by his full first name. Letting go of her hand, he shuffled over on the step, leaving her room to get past. “Sorry, let me get outta your way,” he said. A less than subtle dismissal.
She sighed at his dismissal. She was trying to be nice, damn it, and he was being a butt. "I didn't say you were in my way," she told him, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned against the wall. "Maybe I like it here on the landing," she commented. She knew he wanted her to leave, perhaps because he was embarrassed or annoyed, but either way she didn't want to give up just yet. "Can I help you up?" she asked him. "Or do you need a bit more rest?"
He shook his head, muscles in his jaw working as he fought the urge to get angry at yet another person interfering and trying to help. Like it wasn’t bad enough that he had Vince hovering like a mother hen, waiting for him to get upstairs. “I’m fine,” he muttered, shifting his arm back into the crutch he’d dropped to shake her hand. And then, to prove his point, he levered himself to his feet, biting back a pained groan. Ok, sitting down hadn’t helped the swelling in his stumps any. They were rubbing worse than before.
He wasn't fine. He was being an ass. A stubborn ass. "You don't sound fine," she told him simply. "And I know it's none of my business, but I'd feel awful if you didn't at least let me try to help you. And not because I feel sorry for you because I don't," Tessa added. "You were strong enough to bring yourself all the way here from the bottom. That takes balls. Now what takes more balls is admitting that you need a little help. So are you going to or shall I just stand here and wait for you to try and prove me wrong and climb the stairs yourself?"
JD was sorely tempted to tell her to fuck off. He settled for a glare, looking down at her. “Why the fuck do you care?” He snapped. He was hurt, he was embarrassed, and he had a freaking audience to his humiliation. It didn’t help that she was smoking hot, and six months ago the old JD would have likely gotten a phone number, if not a kiss, by now. He leant against the wall, still standing, taking some of the weight off his legs.
She didn't so much as flinch or bat an eyelash at him when he snapped at her. He needed to get the anger out. She didn't blame him. "Because," she told him simply. "You look like you could use someone that cares." She sighed a little and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm not trying to piss you off or make this worse for you," she told him honestly. "I don't mean to push you, but you can do this. You're a lot stronger, obviously, than you give yourself credit for. And all that anger you've got inside of you isn't helping you climb those stairs any faster."
JD snorted. Yeah, anger didn’t help. That’s what the therapists kept telling him. It was funny, it had helped him heal, kept him determined to keep fighting, and they’d had no problem with it then. And right now, anger was about the only thing he had left. “Look, lady, I appreciate the concern,” he said, in a tone of voice that suggested he really didn’t. “But you don’t know. You don’t know anything about me. So why don’t you just keep walking, and mind your own damn business.”
"You're wrong," she told him. "I know plenty about you. I know your name. I know that you served your country. I know that you were brave enough to do so. I know that you're pissed off because all you got out of the deal was hurt and I know you hate me right now," she said. "So yeah, I know plenty about you. I also know that you try to push people away to keep them from getting too close to you. There are probably a billion reasons for why you're doing that, but I really don't much care what those reasons are," she admitted with a shrug. "I never mind my own business. I'm a doctor. I'm paid to stick my nose into the holes people leave in their stories."
He wasn’t getting rid of her, was he? Sighing, JD set his jaw, stubbornly ignoring her as he made his way slowly and painfully across the landing to the next flight of stairs. Vince would be worrying by now, he knew. And that was ok, because he knew Vince. Wouldn’t stop him bitching, but he was a familiar face. This chick was just getting on his nerves. She was cute, yeah, but she was way too perceptive and way too stubborn for his liking.
No, he wasn't getting rid of her. She stayed where she was, watching him as he moved, almost ready to catch him if he stumbled even if that was likely a stupid idea considering their height and weight differences. She worried on her lower lip as she finally took the couple of steps to the landing, tempted to reach out to help steady him but figuring he'd likely be even more pissed off than he already was. "I'll take your sigh of annoyance as 'Yes, Tessa, your diagnosis is correct'," she half teased as she moved closer to him. "Don't fall on me, you'll crush me to death," she smiled, hoping to lighten his mood.
“Good,” JD muttered. “Maybe you’ll shut up if I do.” He couldn’t resist the teasing grin she was throwing at him, though. His words weren’t quite as harsh as they sounded, and there was a teeny tiny smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. Damn, she was persistent. And cute, which he was focusing on more now she wasn’t playing shrink on him. “You know if you walk ahead of me, that might be incentive enough,” he pointed out, nodding to her high hemline, the bare legs he couldn’t really admire properly from here. “Plus, then I won’t fall on you.”
Tessa smiled at him then, liking that he finally was shifting his mood a little. She liked this side of him more than the last certainly. Moving around him she took a few steps and looked over her shoulder at him. "Maybe I should drop something all accidental like," she grinned. "Then you'd really be motivated."
JD had decided that snapping at her wasn’t gonna make her go away, like it did his actual doctors. And hell, if he got to stare at that ass while he struggled up the stairs, he considered it a win. He snorted softly, almost laughing as she looked over her shoulder. “Either that or I’ll forget to look where I’m going and break my neck,” he pointed out. When she turned her head back around, he took the opportunity to look at her legs, head tilting a little, appreciatively. Yeah, he’d happily watch her walk up and down stairs all damn day. He took a couple more steps, forcing himself to look at his feet rather than at her very shapely legs, his arms already starting to shake again.
Nope, snapping wouldn't make her go away. If anything it'd just make her more persistent and determined. She took a few more steps and stopped, looking back over her shoulder at him and smiling. "Look at you," she said, cheering him on a little without seeming too much like a cheerleader. "Pretty soon you'll be running up these stairs and I'll be complaining because my short little legs won't carry me that fast," she smiled.
JD just Looked at her. A slightly withering glance, as he continued to struggle up the stairs. Because yeah, walking without crutches was achievable. Running? Not so much. Not any time soon, anyway. He finally made it up to the first floor, his arms shaking, sweat beading round his hairline. Oh yeah. He looked fucking hot right now. Sweating, shaking, and pale. And on crutches. He was a catch. “Are you done cheerleading?” He asked her, leaning against his doorframe, really hoping Vince stayed inside, rather than coming out and catching him talking to Tessa. Because yeah, Vince would tease him. And likely flirt with Tessa, and get her phone number. Bastard.
She smiled at him. "No," she said simply. "Cheerleading is going to be happening a lot more from now on," she assured him. "We live in the same building. With a broken elevator. We'll be seeing a lot of each other," she said, sounding perhaps more happy than she should be about that fact. "I'm sorry I pushed you and made you mad, but you got this," she told him, reaching out to gently clasp her hand against his arm, biting her lower lip at the feel of the muscles she found there.
JD sighed. Yeah, he kind of figured that she wasn’t gonna leave him alone. And while the questions and cheerleading were kind of annoying, he couldn’t deny that she was nice to look at. And he’d had a shortage of that, the last few months. He wiped his face on the sleeve of his tshirt, with the arm that she wasn’t touching. And tried not to think about what the old JD would have done, how’d he’d have charmed the pants off her, gotten a date before they’d even gotten to his front door. “I made it up a flight of stairs. Barely. Woo,” he drawled, sarcastically. Because yeah, he couldn’t see much to be happy about right now.
"See, that's your problem," she told him, rubbing his arm and rolling her eyes. "You made it up a flight of stairs. A massive flight of stairs. With no help from anyone. That's something to be proud of even if you're too stubborn to see it." Tessa let go of his arm and rifled through her purse for her packet of sticky notes and a pen. Writing down her name, telephone number and apartment number, she tugged the sheet from the pack and handed it to him. "And you got a pretty girl's number," she smiled, winking at him and hoping that he wouldn't think she was a total tramp or forward. "Go on, you know you want it," she said. "If only for my gams."
JD snorted. Yeah, because this wasn’t out of pity that he was getting her number. Whatever. He smacked the post-it against his chest, leaving it stuck there so he could maneuver his crutches round a little. “I’m gonna tell the PT,” he warned. “You may end up getting hired as motivational support.” Because yeah, he knew more than a few guys who’d walk for hours if they were following that ass, those legs.
She knew what that snort meant and she narrowed her eyes at him. "You better call me," she told him. "I know where you live after all and I'm more stubborn than you." She smirked a little at him as she shifted her purse on her shoulder. "I should get going, but I mean it. Call me. It was nice meeting you."
“Yeah, yeah,” JD grumbled, turning enough to nudge his front door open with one crutch. “Nice meeting you too.” He walked inside, pushing the door closed behind him. “Vince?” He called out, looking around for his friend. Who looked down at the post-it, arched an eyebrow, and smirked. “Oh, don’t fucking start,” JD muttered, shouldering past him and heading for the bedroom. Right now he needed meds, and to get off his feet. Thinking about Tessa, and putting up with Vince’s teasing, could wait.