Who: Vince and JD What: Visiting an old friend When: Sunday Morning Where: Walter Reed Medical Center Warnings: Language, tsk tsk.
Being stationed in the same area, Vince had heard about JD's injuries when the explosion had happened. He'd been told bits and pieces about how bad the situation was and he knew the other soldier hadn't made it out alive, but he wasn't really entirely prepared for what he might see when he went to visit the guy. Still he wasn't about to not go see him. He was a friend, a pretty close friend actually, and Vince wasn't going to leave him all alone in the hospital, not now that he was back stateside. So that morning he'd called up the Medical Center that he'd heard the other man had been brought to after the accident to find out if JD was still a patient there. After learning that he was, he decided that he'd go out and see him. That, however, meant extracting himself from Bethany which he really didn't want to do, but seeing JD was just something that couldn't be avoided. Not and have a clear conscience. He was a close friend who was suffering and almost like part of Vince's pack as far as the werewolf was concerned.
So Vince explained a bit of the situation to Bethany and after dropping her off at her apartment to grab clothes and things like that, he headed up to the Medical Center to see his friend. He got directions to the guy's room from the lady at the receptionist desk and made his way down the hall, lightly knocking on the door she'd directed him too before pushing it open and stepping inside. "Would you look what the cat dragged in," he teased, flashing a smile at the other man as he closed the door behind him and grabbed a chair, pulling it up next to JD's bedside and plopping down in it. He focused more on JD's face than anything, letting the memory of the funny and always joking guy wash back through him. "It's good to see you," he breathed, reaching out to grip the other man's hand.
JD was having a crappy morning. His physical therapy had been pushed back to the afternoon, leaving him cooped up in his room with nothing to do. He was impatient and twitchy; now he’d had his prosthetic legs fitted, he didn’t see any reason they had to keep him here. Any reason that he couldn’t get out of this place and go home. He’d been in this room, staring at these four walls, for nearly four months. They’d told him two weeks more before he could go home. Right now, that seemed like a freaking eternity. He flicked through the tv channels, repeat after repeat after repeat, wondering what the hell they expected him to do with his day.
The knock on his door brought some form of interest, at least. Likely it was just the doctor checking up on him, but it could be his therapist, managing to find a space for him to head down to the gym now. He pulled himself up a bit in bed as the door opened, face blank, uninterested. Of course that blankness went out the window as soon as Vince stepped in. He’d known Vince’d be retiring round about now, but he’d never thought he was actually going to see him.
JD’s face went pure white, look of complete horror quickly covered up with a strained smirk as Vince grabbed a chair, sat down. He shook Vince’s hand firmly, covering up his panic, his discomfort at seeing someone from before his life had gone to shit. “Shit, Calhoun, you got out?” He arched an eyebrow. “Thought for sure you were gonna end up taking another tour.” It wasn’t like either of them had much to come back to - JD certainly hadn’t planned to retire at 37, he knew he’d drive himself up the damn wall with boredom if he had. Of course, that wasn’t really a choice he had anymore. He wasn’t gonna be a desk jockey, and when the army had offered him a medical discharge on full pay, he’d taken it. There were rumors going around about settlements from the government, but he didn’t want to rely on chance. Just in case.
"Retired," he told him with a little nod. "Thought about going back and doing another tour, but I got my twenty years and figured maybe it was time to start living life outside of the army." He didn't regret the trips he'd made, the tours he'd gone through, but he did miss out on a lot of living. Twenty years was a long time to spend mostly out of the country and now that he had Bethany in his life he was starting to think that maybe settling down was a good idea. Going back with the possibility of ending up like JD or worse wasn't something he wanted to think about and he couldn't have been more firm in his decision than he was now as he looked over his friend.
"You look good," he told the man, and it was mostly true. He looked better than Vince had expected him to if he was being completely honest.
JD scoffed, eyeing Vince disbelievingly. “I look like shit.” His hair was in need of a cut - he’d let it grow out from his buzzcut but hadn’t bothered to do anything with it. He was a little thinner around the face, though not badly so, and physically his upper body was just as fit - if not fitter - than it had been when he’d last seen Vince. There was a shadow in his eyes that hadn’t been there, though, and he was far less animated than the bouncy, hyper, laughing JD that Vince was probably used to. And, of course, there was the fact that from the thighs down, there was nothing there. His legs were hidden by the blankets of course, but it still wasn’t pretty.
Vince expected him to be different and couldn't really blame the guy. He didn't think he'd have been able to make it through an accident like JD had been in. A lame wolf wouldn't survive in the wild so he likely would have wanted to kill himself. He kept his thoughts to himself and put a smile on his face. "Well yeah, but I think you're entitled to that right about now, brother."
Unable to really argue that point, JD just nodded. He was completely at a loss, picking idly at a loose thread on the blanket, staring down at his lap. He hadn’t even thought that Vince might come see him, certainly hadn’t expected it now. He hadn’t had time to prepare himself, hadn’t had time to try and get himself together, to fake being the guy he used to be.
“So...you got a place to stay?” He had no idea how long Vince had been in town, or where he was staying. Hell, if he thought he could stand being around Vince, he’d suggest the guy used his apartment. Maybe if he had a roommate, the doctors here would let him go earlier.
"Oh, yeah," he said with a nod. "I bought a house out this way one of the last times I was out on the base," he explained. "My parents still live around here so my mom checked on the place while I was gone, kept it decent. It's nice to be able to sleep in a bed," he admitted. "I don't miss cots, that's for damn sure." He didn't miss a lot of things about being out in the field. He was glad he'd served his country, but he'd done his duty and it was time to start living life. "What about you? You got a place to stay?" he questioned. "When are they letting you out of this dump anyway?"
“Two weeks,” JD said tiredly. He couldn’t wait, desperate for a proper meal and a bed somewhere quiet, without people checking on him every five goddamn minutes. “And yeah, I got an apartment in town. Got no idea what kinda state it’s in, but I’ve been paying rent on the place every month, so...” He shrugged. It was basic, to say the least, but it was still home. Or as close as he was ever going to get.
“Hey, did you get in touch with that chick? What was her name, Belinda, Becky...” JD was teasing, just a little. He knew fine well what her name was - Vince had talked about her all the goddamn time, to the point where JD had to throw things at him to get him to shut up about this apparent goddess he was swapping emails and letters and phonecalls with. “She hot?”
Vince was glad that he at least had a place to go to. "You know you're welcome to crash at my place sometimes too if you want," he offered. "If you get bored with your apartment or just want some company." Guys didn't admit that they got lonely, but Vince wanted to give him an invitation even if he didn't ever take him up on it.
When Bethany was mentioned, Vince got a dopey little grin on his face. "Yeah, I got in touch with her," he said with a nod. "Bethany is her name, you ass," he added. He knew well and good that JD knew exactly what her name was. He'd gone on and on about her constantly and no doubt it was annoying to everyone around him. "She's hot," he nodded. "Which is why I didn't get up here sooner. I went to see her first and I haven't gotten out of bed since," he laughed.
“Nice,” JD commented, glad to shift the conversation onto something that wasn’t him, and how shit his life was right now. “Good for you, man.” He was glad Vince had someone, even if there was a wicked flare of jealousy inside him. Vince had done his twenty, retired with all his limbs intact and a pretty girl and house waiting for him in DC. JD had...none of the above. But hey, if he was ever short of cash, at least he could sell his medication to desperate junkies. There we go, thinking positive. Yeah, right.
He reached for the glass of water on the table beside his bed, grimacing as he rolled onto a tender spot on his left thigh, trying to hide his discomfort from Vince. He wasn’t sure how much the other man knew about what had happened - if he hadn’t known before he walked in, the lack of feet and legs under the blanket probably gave it away. As he sat back, the door opened, and the nurse he’d nicknamed Nurse Ratched walked in, small paper cup in hand.
“Oh goody, time for my fix,” JD drawled, glaring at her. He’d protested the meds strongly at first, but now he pretty much counted down the minutes between one set of pain pills and the next. The others he didn’t care about so much, not even remembering what all of them were for by now. The nurse just glared right back, handing him the paper cup, 5 pills rattling in the bottom of it. JD knocked them back, chasing them down with a gulp of water, sticking his tongue out at her to prove he’d swallowed them. He’d gotten in trouble for hiding them under his mattress at first, and now they insisted he show them his empty mouth, like he was a goddamn infant.
Vince hadn't been entirely aware of how bad it was. He knew that there had been at least one amputation but a lot of the information had been fuzzy to say the least. Now he felt even worse for JD, but he didn't want the guy to think that he was pitying him because he knew if the roles were reversed he wouldn't want the pity either.
The woman that came in acted more like a damn drill sergeant than anything and he sort of glared at her too. Once she'd left again, he rolled his eyes. "Bet you're ready to get the hell out of here, aren't you?" he questioned. "I know I'd be if that's what I had to deal with every damn day. How are you doing anyway? Any progress with recovery?"
“Fuck, yes,” JD groaned, rubbing his face. “I swear, she gets worse every day. I think she sleeps hanging upside down in a closet in the hall. Evil harpy.” He had no idea what her name actually was; she’d made his life hell over the past few months, he wasn’t keen on getting to know her any better. She often helped with his PT, and JD was convinced it was because she liked making him cry.
He shrugged one shoulder in answer to Vince’s question about his recovery, looking away. “‘bout as well as you’d think. Lost both my legs and one of my best friends to a damn IED in a street that we were told had been cleared that morning. Other than that, I’m just fucking peachy.” His mouth twisted, angry and hurt and hating that he was even having to talk about this, that Vince had even shown up.
"Listen man, I'm not going to tell you that everything happens for a reason or any of that other stupid bullshit that likely therapists have been telling you since you got out. War sucks. Shit happens and I'm sorry that what happened to you happened, I am. I don't wanna tell you that things are gonna get better and to find Jesus or sing Hallelujah or any of that crap, but man, you're here. You're alive. There's gotta be something worth being happy about in that." He shrugged a little and pushed a hand through his hair, still short as it had been in the service. "If you ever wanna go out and get a beer or something, I want you to call me. Or if you can't do that because of the meds or whatever, we'll go out and get some food, yeah? Once you get back to the land of the living, I think maybe your outlook'll change a little. I can't begin to understand how shitty you feel right now, but you've got me, okay? I'm too stubborn to go away so don't hesitate to call me, man. That's what friends are for."
JD just snorted. He hadn’t even given the therapists the chance to get that far with him. He didn’t want to listen to anything they had to say. He’d yelled, and screamed, and gotten through four different therapists. The latest one wasn’t any better. She’d remained implacable to his abuse, and they’d now settled into a routine of her doing paperwork while he glared at her in silence for an hour.
“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered. Being with Vince right now was too painful; too much of a reminder of what he’d lost, of the man he used to be. “I don’t need your help, or your pity.”
"It's not pity," Vince was quick to tell the other man. "It's friendship. And if you're not ready to accept that right now, I can't blame you or force you, but regardless, I'm here if you need me." He couldn't force JD to do anything he wanted to do and if he wanted to be stubborn, that was his right. He deserved to do whatever the hell he wanted to do and Vince didn't want to make the situation worse. "It was good to see you, JD," he said after a moment, reluctantly standing up. "Guess I should get out of your hair."
JD sat glaring at him, arms folded. “Yeah, probably a good idea. Wouldn’t want to put a downer on your day.” He was lashing out, and didn’t really care. Fuck Vince for coming to visit him, for being an all-too-visible reminder of what he used to be. He looked away, staring at the window, waiting for Vince to leave.
Vince rolled his eyes a little. "You're not a downer on my day," he told the guy as he looked right back at him with no anger in his voice, just worry over the other man. "You're my friend and you spent pretty much the whole time I've known you making hell over there a lot easier. I wanna help you, I wanna do that same shit for you, but I don't know how. Honestly I feel pretty useless at the moment because I don't want you thinking I'm pitying you just because I want to help," he explained. He sighed and shook his head a little though he didn't make any attempt to leave just yet. "All I can do is tell you I'm here and come back and visit you til you stop being a dick and just accept that I'm trying to help."
“I don’t need your help,” JD snapped, raising his voice. “I don’t need it, and I sure as hell don’t want it. I’ve got all the fucking help in the world right here.” He gestured to the room around them, the bare, institutional walls, the bedside table with not even a card or a bunch of flowers. It looked like JD had been there less than a day, not for months. There wasn’t a single personal touch to the place.
“Get the fuck out,” he snarled, patience worn thin, his body aching as he waited for the meds to kick in, to blur the pain around the edges, just enough for him to relax. Though he doubted he’d be doing much of that, now. He pressed the call button on his bed, amused when a nurse popped up almost immediately. Wow, it’d be really nice if they did that when he actually needed something.
“My friend was just leaving, but he’s forgotten the way to the door,” he said, faking a light, friendly tone to his voice, and fooling no one. “Would you mind showing him?”
Vince bit back the urge to growl at JD, just barely. He clenched his jaw a little at being told to get out, barely stifling the intense need to rip the guy a new one for being a self pitying asshole. "Fine," he said simply. "Listen, miss, you got a piece of paper?" he asked the woman. "And a pen?" The woman found what he asked for and he wrote his information down on said paper, folding it and putting it on the nearest table to JD. "If you decide you're ready to stop being a baby and suck it up like a soldier would, give me a call," he said to the man, clicking the pen closed and handing it to the nurse as he left the room.
That hadn't gone well at all and now he wanted to punch something or someone. Fuck war. Whole lot of good it did.