Jericho Fic: Never Meant To...(4/9)
Mar. 3rd, 2008 10:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xtremeroswelliaTitle: Never Meant To…
Authors: X_tremeroswellian and Shadow_One
Fandom: Jericho
Pairing: Jake/Heather and hints of Jake/Emily
Rated: PG-13
Spoilers: Up through and including most of “Rogue River.” After that it’s pretty AU.
Word Count: 9808
Author’s Note: Title was inspired by the Coldplay song, “Trouble.”
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven-Conclusion
When Heather woke an hour later, she was no longer shivering. She was warm and comfortable, and wrapped in Jake's arms. A sleepy smile touched her face, then quickly disappeared as she realized he'd fallen asleep, as well. She reached up and touched his cheek, swallowing hard when she felt how warm his skin was. Much too warm. She sat up quickly, pulling some of the covers off him. As she did so, she spotted a growing dark stain on the blanket beneath him. Blood.
The color drained from her face. "Jake. Jake, wake up."
He groaned, shifting his head away from the noise that was preventing him from the bliss that unconsciousness provided.
Panic threatened to take hold of her, but she forced herself to remain calm, quickly moving to the other side of the bed and sliding his shirt up. "God," she whispered, heading into her bathroom and getting the supplies she'd stuffed in her pockets from the med center. She gently peeled off the tape and gauze covering his wound and discarded it into the garbage can.
When the cold air hit his heated skin, Jake sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes snapping open. "Heather...w-what's going on?"
"You're bleeding," she said grimly.
"Damn," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Try to stay still, okay?" She gently touched his arm.
"Okay."
Heather focused her attention on cleansing the wound with peroxide and clean gauze, then kept her hand pressed against the area to try and stop the bleeding. She felt him wince and she shut her eyes. "So tell me about yourself."
He let out a pained breath. "Not...much to tell."
"Right." A grin twisted her lips. "That's like saying there's nothing to the Seven Wonders of the World."
He shrugged. "Well..."
"Oh come on. I know you've got some stories to tell. You disappear from Jericho for five years and come back as the town hero."
He shuddered at the thought of those five years away. "I don't...want to...talk about it."
Heather's smile slipped and she nodded. "Okay."
"Tell me...about you."
"I'm trying to keep you awake, not put you to sleep."
"Talk, Heather."
"Look, I'm not really...I'm not a very interesting person." She shrugged, switching the gauze and continuing to keep pressure on his wound.
He winced at the pressure. "Mm...sleep sounds...good then."
She sighed in frustration. "What do you wanna know?"
"Why'd you come to...Jericho?"
She was silent for a moment. "New Bern never really felt like home, I guess."
He frowned. "And...here does?"
"It's a nice town," she said softly. "Everyone here's been really good to me."
"That's good..." His eyes began to slide shut again.
"But...also because I didn't know anyone here."
"Trying to...get away from...something?"
Heather grimaced. "Yeah. My dad."
"Oh."
"He's a minister." She relaxed a bit as she realized the blood flow had slowed down somewhat.
"Hmm...so he wanted you to love...God and nothing else?"
She glanced at him to see if he was making fun of her, but realized he was just trying to keep her talking. "Something like that. He was...pretty strict."
"That sucks," he muttered.
"I think he was just...trying to protect me."
"From the world."
She nodded a little. "It got worse after my mom died. I'd just turned sixteen, and I was an only child. It scared him. He didn't really know what to do with me."
"I'm sorry."
Heather shrugged. "It's the past."
"Past always has an effect on the future."
She considered his words momentarily. "I think the present has a little more effect on the future at this point."
"If you say so..." His voice faded a little.
She discarded the bloodied gauze, then carefully taped new gauze to the wound. "Hey, Jake?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you...come back here because of Emily?"
"Dunno," he opened his eyes and fixed a glassy stare on her.
Heather avoided his gaze. "Right. Sorry, I shouldn't have...it's none of my business. Sometimes my curiosity gets the best of me and I say things before I have a chance to think them through."
"You're rambling again," he said quietly, smiling.
"I do that when I'm nervous," she confessed.
"I noticed."
"I think I've got the bleeding stopped again. For now."
"That's good..." he licked his dry lips. "Hope it stays that way."
"Me too," she whispered, swallowing hard.
"You should get some sleep..."
Heather shook her head a little. "I already napped. But I am going to go fix you something to eat. Course all I have is chicken broth...but under the circumstances that's probably for the best." She rose to her feet.
"Yeah...probably," he mumbled, watching her movements intently.
"You need anything else?" she asked, pausing in the door and turning to face him again, surprised when she realized he was staring at her. "Another pillow? A doctor?" she asked hopefully.
He smirked. "Tricky, but no."
"Had to try." She disappeared into the hallway.
When she left, Jake slowly turned himself onto his back again and stared up at the ceiling, knowing that he probably was in trouble. The pain radiating through him now confirmed that. But he didn't need anyone to worry about him, he'd get through this. Or at least, he hoped he would.
* * *
The next time Jake was conscious, he immediately shot up, a deep, wet cough taking over him, making his entire body shake.
Heather jerked her head up from the chair where she was curled up, reading. Her face paled at the sight of the blood spewing from his mouth. "Oh God." She scrambled from the chair and moved to the bed, eyes wide.
His arms moved to cradle his middle as the coughing continued. He could barely take a breath before the coughing continued.
"Jake!" She winced, hurrying into the bathroom and retrieving a cool washcloth. She moved to his side once more and gently pressed it to his forehead.
The coughing slowly resided and he lay back, taking shallow breaths, eyes closed.
She gently wiped his mouth off, grimacing at the sight of the crimson spots. "God," she whispered.
"Sorry," he said, voice hoarse.
"Jake, this is bad."
"Could be...worse."
"You're not getting better."
He turned his head away from her. "I know," he said inaudibly.
Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back, rising to her feet.
"W-where are you...going?"
"To the Med Center."
"You can't."
"Yes, I can, and I am," she said quietly, heading for the door.
"Heather-"
"Jake, you just coughed up *blood.* You've been shot, and I don't know what else to do, but I can't sit here and watch you die!"
He swallowed, grimacing at the metallic taste of blood. "I don't need to be worried about."
"Well, it's too late for that."
He was about to say more when suddenly the breath caught in his throat. When he tried to pull in air, he only got a little into his lungs. Hitting his head against the pillow, he tried again to get air into his suddenly starved lungs.
"Jake?" She turned to look at him, fear clutching at her.
"C-can't..." he clutched at the sheets. "Breathe..."
The air left her lungs in a rush as she quickly moved to his side once more. "Turn onto your side," she said, gently rolling him to the left.
He helped her as much as he could. Once on his side, the air came easier, but not much.
"Don't panic. You're gonna be okay," she whispered, hoping to God she was right. She knelt behind him on the bed, one hand resting on his arm.
"Go," he whispered.
Heather swallowed hard. "I'll be back as quick as I can. Don't move, Jake. Just...just hang on." She slid off the bed and bolted to the door in a dead run.
When she pulled the door open, however, Emily was standing on the other side, her arm half-raised as if she was about to knock. "Heather."
"Jake's in the bedroom, go stay with him," she said, her voice frightened as she darted past her friend and out the door.
She turned, worry knotting her stomach at Heather's tone. "Heather wait! What's going on?"
She didn't stop, fumbling to get her keys out of her jeans' pocket. She yanked Charlotte's driver's side door open and hoisted herself into the seat, shoving the key into the ignition and starting the engine. She didn't even give it a second to warm up before throwing it into reverse and peeling out of the driveway, praying she wouldn't be too late.
Emily stared after Heather for a moment, then turned and headed down the hallway to her friend's bedroom. She wasn't prepared for the sight that faced her: Jake Green curled into fetal position, blood staining the blankets and his shirt. "Oh God. Jake!"
Jake's fevered eyes darted to her, only acknowledging her that way, trying to focus on breathing.
She moved to his side and pressed a hand to his cheek. He was burning up. A million questions darted through her mind, none of which reached her lips. She picked up the cool, blood-stained washrag that lay beside him and moved to the bathroom, rinsing it quickly before laying it on his head. "It's okay. Heather went to get help."
He closed his eyes, nodding slightly. "G-good."
"What happened to you?" she whispered, shaking her head a little.
"Shot..."
Emily's eyes widened a little more. "What?" She quickly pulled his shirt up, sucking in a breath when she saw the bloodied bandage. "Oh, Jake. When?"
"Rogue...River..."
"Jake, that was four days ago," she said, shocked. "What..."
"D-didn't...think...it was...that bad."
She shut her eyes, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You're an idiot, Jake."
"Sorry," he whispered.
"Shh. Stay quiet and still. Just focus on breathing."
Nodding, his eyes slid shut slowly slid shut, another breathy "Sorry." passing over his lips.
"Just breathe," she said again, touching his face.
He pulled in a last shuddering breath, followed by nothing. Jake Green never exhaled.
Authors: X_tremeroswellian and Shadow_One
Fandom: Jericho
Pairing: Jake/Heather and hints of Jake/Emily
Rated: PG-13
Spoilers: Up through and including most of “Rogue River.” After that it’s pretty AU.
Word Count: 9808
Author’s Note: Title was inspired by the Coldplay song, “Trouble.”
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven-Conclusion
When Heather woke an hour later, she was no longer shivering. She was warm and comfortable, and wrapped in Jake's arms. A sleepy smile touched her face, then quickly disappeared as she realized he'd fallen asleep, as well. She reached up and touched his cheek, swallowing hard when she felt how warm his skin was. Much too warm. She sat up quickly, pulling some of the covers off him. As she did so, she spotted a growing dark stain on the blanket beneath him. Blood.
The color drained from her face. "Jake. Jake, wake up."
He groaned, shifting his head away from the noise that was preventing him from the bliss that unconsciousness provided.
Panic threatened to take hold of her, but she forced herself to remain calm, quickly moving to the other side of the bed and sliding his shirt up. "God," she whispered, heading into her bathroom and getting the supplies she'd stuffed in her pockets from the med center. She gently peeled off the tape and gauze covering his wound and discarded it into the garbage can.
When the cold air hit his heated skin, Jake sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes snapping open. "Heather...w-what's going on?"
"You're bleeding," she said grimly.
"Damn," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Try to stay still, okay?" She gently touched his arm.
"Okay."
Heather focused her attention on cleansing the wound with peroxide and clean gauze, then kept her hand pressed against the area to try and stop the bleeding. She felt him wince and she shut her eyes. "So tell me about yourself."
He let out a pained breath. "Not...much to tell."
"Right." A grin twisted her lips. "That's like saying there's nothing to the Seven Wonders of the World."
He shrugged. "Well..."
"Oh come on. I know you've got some stories to tell. You disappear from Jericho for five years and come back as the town hero."
He shuddered at the thought of those five years away. "I don't...want to...talk about it."
Heather's smile slipped and she nodded. "Okay."
"Tell me...about you."
"I'm trying to keep you awake, not put you to sleep."
"Talk, Heather."
"Look, I'm not really...I'm not a very interesting person." She shrugged, switching the gauze and continuing to keep pressure on his wound.
He winced at the pressure. "Mm...sleep sounds...good then."
She sighed in frustration. "What do you wanna know?"
"Why'd you come to...Jericho?"
She was silent for a moment. "New Bern never really felt like home, I guess."
He frowned. "And...here does?"
"It's a nice town," she said softly. "Everyone here's been really good to me."
"That's good..." His eyes began to slide shut again.
"But...also because I didn't know anyone here."
"Trying to...get away from...something?"
Heather grimaced. "Yeah. My dad."
"Oh."
"He's a minister." She relaxed a bit as she realized the blood flow had slowed down somewhat.
"Hmm...so he wanted you to love...God and nothing else?"
She glanced at him to see if he was making fun of her, but realized he was just trying to keep her talking. "Something like that. He was...pretty strict."
"That sucks," he muttered.
"I think he was just...trying to protect me."
"From the world."
She nodded a little. "It got worse after my mom died. I'd just turned sixteen, and I was an only child. It scared him. He didn't really know what to do with me."
"I'm sorry."
Heather shrugged. "It's the past."
"Past always has an effect on the future."
She considered his words momentarily. "I think the present has a little more effect on the future at this point."
"If you say so..." His voice faded a little.
She discarded the bloodied gauze, then carefully taped new gauze to the wound. "Hey, Jake?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you...come back here because of Emily?"
"Dunno," he opened his eyes and fixed a glassy stare on her.
Heather avoided his gaze. "Right. Sorry, I shouldn't have...it's none of my business. Sometimes my curiosity gets the best of me and I say things before I have a chance to think them through."
"You're rambling again," he said quietly, smiling.
"I do that when I'm nervous," she confessed.
"I noticed."
"I think I've got the bleeding stopped again. For now."
"That's good..." he licked his dry lips. "Hope it stays that way."
"Me too," she whispered, swallowing hard.
"You should get some sleep..."
Heather shook her head a little. "I already napped. But I am going to go fix you something to eat. Course all I have is chicken broth...but under the circumstances that's probably for the best." She rose to her feet.
"Yeah...probably," he mumbled, watching her movements intently.
"You need anything else?" she asked, pausing in the door and turning to face him again, surprised when she realized he was staring at her. "Another pillow? A doctor?" she asked hopefully.
He smirked. "Tricky, but no."
"Had to try." She disappeared into the hallway.
When she left, Jake slowly turned himself onto his back again and stared up at the ceiling, knowing that he probably was in trouble. The pain radiating through him now confirmed that. But he didn't need anyone to worry about him, he'd get through this. Or at least, he hoped he would.
* * *
The next time Jake was conscious, he immediately shot up, a deep, wet cough taking over him, making his entire body shake.
Heather jerked her head up from the chair where she was curled up, reading. Her face paled at the sight of the blood spewing from his mouth. "Oh God." She scrambled from the chair and moved to the bed, eyes wide.
His arms moved to cradle his middle as the coughing continued. He could barely take a breath before the coughing continued.
"Jake!" She winced, hurrying into the bathroom and retrieving a cool washcloth. She moved to his side once more and gently pressed it to his forehead.
The coughing slowly resided and he lay back, taking shallow breaths, eyes closed.
She gently wiped his mouth off, grimacing at the sight of the crimson spots. "God," she whispered.
"Sorry," he said, voice hoarse.
"Jake, this is bad."
"Could be...worse."
"You're not getting better."
He turned his head away from her. "I know," he said inaudibly.
Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back, rising to her feet.
"W-where are you...going?"
"To the Med Center."
"You can't."
"Yes, I can, and I am," she said quietly, heading for the door.
"Heather-"
"Jake, you just coughed up *blood.* You've been shot, and I don't know what else to do, but I can't sit here and watch you die!"
He swallowed, grimacing at the metallic taste of blood. "I don't need to be worried about."
"Well, it's too late for that."
He was about to say more when suddenly the breath caught in his throat. When he tried to pull in air, he only got a little into his lungs. Hitting his head against the pillow, he tried again to get air into his suddenly starved lungs.
"Jake?" She turned to look at him, fear clutching at her.
"C-can't..." he clutched at the sheets. "Breathe..."
The air left her lungs in a rush as she quickly moved to his side once more. "Turn onto your side," she said, gently rolling him to the left.
He helped her as much as he could. Once on his side, the air came easier, but not much.
"Don't panic. You're gonna be okay," she whispered, hoping to God she was right. She knelt behind him on the bed, one hand resting on his arm.
"Go," he whispered.
Heather swallowed hard. "I'll be back as quick as I can. Don't move, Jake. Just...just hang on." She slid off the bed and bolted to the door in a dead run.
When she pulled the door open, however, Emily was standing on the other side, her arm half-raised as if she was about to knock. "Heather."
"Jake's in the bedroom, go stay with him," she said, her voice frightened as she darted past her friend and out the door.
She turned, worry knotting her stomach at Heather's tone. "Heather wait! What's going on?"
She didn't stop, fumbling to get her keys out of her jeans' pocket. She yanked Charlotte's driver's side door open and hoisted herself into the seat, shoving the key into the ignition and starting the engine. She didn't even give it a second to warm up before throwing it into reverse and peeling out of the driveway, praying she wouldn't be too late.
Emily stared after Heather for a moment, then turned and headed down the hallway to her friend's bedroom. She wasn't prepared for the sight that faced her: Jake Green curled into fetal position, blood staining the blankets and his shirt. "Oh God. Jake!"
Jake's fevered eyes darted to her, only acknowledging her that way, trying to focus on breathing.
She moved to his side and pressed a hand to his cheek. He was burning up. A million questions darted through her mind, none of which reached her lips. She picked up the cool, blood-stained washrag that lay beside him and moved to the bathroom, rinsing it quickly before laying it on his head. "It's okay. Heather went to get help."
He closed his eyes, nodding slightly. "G-good."
"What happened to you?" she whispered, shaking her head a little.
"Shot..."
Emily's eyes widened a little more. "What?" She quickly pulled his shirt up, sucking in a breath when she saw the bloodied bandage. "Oh, Jake. When?"
"Rogue...River..."
"Jake, that was four days ago," she said, shocked. "What..."
"D-didn't...think...it was...that bad."
She shut her eyes, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You're an idiot, Jake."
"Sorry," he whispered.
"Shh. Stay quiet and still. Just focus on breathing."
Nodding, his eyes slid shut slowly slid shut, another breathy "Sorry." passing over his lips.
"Just breathe," she said again, touching his face.
He pulled in a last shuddering breath, followed by nothing. Jake Green never exhaled.
