Comfortably Numb (closed with VictorianBooty)

[Interstellar Bun]

It was the same thing every day. The room was silent, save for the beeping of the machines that kept Jude alive, breathing for him, making sure his heart never stopped. Ian didn't visit like he used to, didn't sit in the room and linger as he read, as he spoke to his friend who never spoke back. He'd drop by every day, but that was simply because he was in proximity, it was easy to do so, but he didn't stay.


Two years.


Jude had missed two years of birthdays. Two Christmas celebrations, two Halloweens, two years worth of memories. It hurt. It hurt to know that. It hurt to know that the doctors were starting to lose hope.


And Ian was too.


He wanted to believe, but realistically, he knew better. He still dealt with death on a daily basis and he knew just how much it hurt to hang on, how it hurt to cling to hope that wasn't really there. But, he'd still wait. For his friend, he'd wait.


In a new suit, one to fit the latest fashions, Ian strolled through the halls of the hospital. lifted his cup of coffee in a salute to the nurses' station before turning in to enter that small, quiet room.


Jude was still there. Still unmoving. Dead, for all intents and purposes.


"Hey Jude." There was a pause before Ian smiled at himself. "Don't make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better." He moved to look at the vitals that blipped on the screen. "Remember, to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better."


He took a sip of his coffee and paused in his humming. It was the same thing everyday except, maybe, this day.

 

[sumurset]

It seemed like the average day to Jude.


He was relaxing at home; cigarette hanging from his mouth as he listlessly sketched out a new idea. Brandy, his girlfriend, was busy at work. One of their many bane being their unmatched schedules. His days off were the days she worked, and vice versa. They made it work.


Ian had all but disappeared from his life. The sod hadn't called or visited in months. Christ, probably a few years at this point. Jude wasn't keeping track.


As Hey Jude drifted from the speakers, he let out a puff of smoke. So relaxing. He was actually getting pretty sleepy, and McCartney was not helping his eyes stay open.


In a last effort to stay awake he gave in.


Perhaps this was finally the end of his long-term insomnia. Something he'd been suffering from ever since that minor accident he and Brandy had been in.


Laying his pencil down on the desk, Jude stood up and padded over to the bed. It was messy and unmade--exactly like it always was.


Distinguishing the cigarette in his ashtray, he fell under the covers and curled up.


In no time he was asleep.


Awake.


Bright lights momentarily blinded him. If it weren't for the sharp pain in his chest, he would have thought he was dreaming. Upon focusing, he found a tube shoved down his throat. Panic set in almost immediately and he began to choke; fingers desperately grabbing at the plastic tube that blocked his airway. He didn't dare move it. Any time that was attempted, the pain grew. He felt like he was about to vomit.


Where the fuck was he? Why was he there? Was this the fucking hospital? Why was he in the hospital?


His eyes searched wildly for some kind of help. There was no button near his hands. Why the hell would someone leave him unattended like that?


Then he saw him.


Ian, in all his glory. The man who hadn't talked to him in a few years.


Bastard.





He began groaning against the plastic; pointing to it as he forced small, choppy amounts of air in around it.


God help him he felt like he was being forcibly gagged.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Ian almost dropped his coffee.


He wasn't a doctor doctor, as his mother liked to say, but he still knew a thing or two. Hands shaking, he removed the breather tube and grabbed the small remote near the bed, hitting the button to call for a nurse. His eyes were wide, almost panicked. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. He had dreamed of this, but it had never happened.


Not until now.


"Jude. Jude can you hear me? Don't try to talk, just...just nod or something okay?"


A nurse came jogging in, red hair tied back and out of the way. "Is everything okay?"


"He's awake."


Ian's hand was gripping the side of Jude's bed as he refused to leave. He was awake. Awake. God he couldn't believe it. A smile cracked across his tired features, eyes glossing over with tears that spilled hot down his cheeks. Jude was back.

 

[sumurset]

Jude watched Ian cry. He was entirely baffled.


He wanted to speak, but his throat was too sore to try.


Why was Ian sobbing?


There were too many questions--it made him feel uncomfortable.


Unable to say anything, he simply reached a hand towards the man. He hadn't looked at him for two goddamn years. To see the sod beside him, sobbing, was shocking. He wasn't sure how to process the situation.


Jude just hoped his throat would feel better soon.


He had some things he needed to ask.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Ian tensed, slightly, when he saw Jude's hand reach out. Grasping Jude's hand, he barely even noticed as a doctor strolled in. Ian knew the man vaguely, after all, he had been the one he had consulted with for the past two years, the one who he had discussed pulling the plug with. His stomach lurched. Then, he was being lead out of the room, leaving the two to talk.


Outside, he waited. He waited with his arms loosely crossed. Shit, he had a patient to see soon and he had planned to meet Estil for lunch and, fuck. Fuck why couldn't it all just wait?


The door opened, though he didn't know how long it had been, and he was invited back in as the redheaded nurse was sent off for pudding and water. When Ian stepped back in, he waited at the foot of the bed, watching, waiting.


"Did he tell you what happened?"

 

[sumurset]

Jude stared at Ian silently for a few minutes. Fuck, he really wanted a cigarette. Brandy, too, wherever the hell she was. The doctor said she wouldn't be coming to see him. Jude took that as her having given up. Perhaps he'd simply been out for too long. She was a beautiful woman. Smart, with a wit sharper than any blade. It was a miracle she had been with him in the first place. The fact that she had moved on was no surprise.


But that didn't stop him from wanting to speak with her.


"Ian, I need to talk to Brandy."





He continued to watch his friend. His expression made him seem far older than he was.


Then again, he was older than the last time he remembered.


This situation was shit.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

He didn't know. He still didn't know.


Ian considered his words for a moment, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt to buy himself some time. Absently, he fussed with the cufflinks Estil had gotten him. How was he supposed to tell Jude everything he had missed, everything he had lost? Taking in a slow breath, he kept a passive, but still soft expression as he stepped closer.


"Jude," there it was, that professional tone in his voice, the one designed for his patients.


"You need to understand that you were in a very bad car accident. Brandy...didn't make it."


Quick, like a band-aid. There was no point in waiting, in beating around the bush. He'd find out one way or another, and he supposed it be better to just get it over with.

 

[sumurset]

Jude stared blankly at Ian for a moment.


That couldn't be true.


No.


A knot formed in his throat and he silently turned away from Ian; choosing instead to look out the window. Below, cars were slowly creeping down the street, held in tight lines. He wondered how high up his room was. Probably high enough to cause real damage.


This wasn't fair.


He had been waiting for her to get home from work not 20 minutes ago.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

"Jude?"


There was something weak in his voice, something desperate. Ian moved closer, touching Jude's shoulder, trying to anchor him in reality.


"Jude, listen to me...I know how much this hurts. I know how awful it is to lose someone you care for, but things will get better. I can promise you that things will be better. We just have to work through this together."


There was a moment of silence before Ian gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, trying to smile.


"Do you want to call your sister? I'm sure she'd want to hear from you."

 

[sumurset]

"Together."





A weak, spiteful smile took home of his lips. He and Brandy had been together for so long.


It was so unfortunate that those years had been a construct of his mind.


He sighed, low and soft, and shook his head.


No. He didn't want to talk to his sister. Not then.


She didn't deserve to hear his whining.


Perhaps they had all already moved on. How was he to simply step back in on their lives?


Had they even been informed about what had happened?


Jude knew they weren't on his emergency contact list. They were no where in his information.


Not here in America, the land where nightmares come true.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Ian didn't know what to do. It was different trying to help someone who was his friend, someone who he had spent endless hours with.


He wasn't a patient, he wasn't a name on a list.


He was Jude, and he was hurting.


"I'll get you signed up for a support group," there it was, those damn professional words again. Ian didn't know how else to respond.


"I do think you should call your parents, though, they'll be happy to hear from you. You're their son."


Ian wished he had their number, had the ability to call them when it happened. God, he couldn't imagine what it was like to live in the dark like that.


Not knowing was the worst.


But he was awake now, and that was what mattered. Ian just had to keep telling himself that.

 

[sumurset]

"I don't needa damned support group, Ian. I ain't fucked in the head, I just bloody woke up to some shit news! Can't blame me for mourning."


He glared at the man before letting his head fall back on his pillow. His eyes closed. He took a deep breath.


Cussing out Ian wouldn't help him any, even if venting made him feel better.


Jude desperately wanted something to draw with. Paint with. Maybe something to break.


A wall to punch? Was it a good idea punching a hole in the wall immediately after waking from a coma?


"They don't wanna hear from me. They think I'm dead. No reason to waltz back into their lives all willy-nilly, 'oi, guess what, I didn't die!'"