Work Text:
"Jen?"
Smoke billows from the hood of the car. Judy's vision blurs at the edges and blood leaks from where her head got bashed against the window, but all she can think is Jen, Jen.
"Jen, please." Judy's voice shakes. She leans over, covering Jen with her body protectively and shaking her arms. "Please tell me you're okay."
In the fog of sound, the other car turns sharply and screeches away. All of this so, so familiar, like one memory bashed through to the next.
"Judy?"
Jen's breathing is rugged, near hyperventilation. She's not totally sure where all of her is, with her arm pinned between steering wheel and door, and her legs looming somewhere beneath the massive white cloud of the air bag. But she knows that Judy is there covering her with her body, and she feels safe. Safe enough to close her eyes and drift away.
"Don't."
"Don't go, Jen," Judy says with a sob and buries her face into Jen's neck. "Please stay awake, please, I need you."
Jen's eyes find Judy and for now, she feels like she can breathe. Someone is calling 911. Someone else is squeezing tears out of her eyes.
"They're coming, honey, I just need you to stay awake a little bit longer, okay Jen?"
Jen tries to nod but she doesn't think her body's doing what she tells it to do anymore. Instead, she just croaks "okay." Shaking, Judy rests her head in the crook of Jen's shoulder, like always. And she starts to sing, weakly, slowly: "every time I think of you, I get a shock right through with a bolt of blue. It's no problem of mine but it's a problem, I find. Livin' a life I can't leave behind."
With effort, Jen presses a small kiss on the top of Judy's head and cries. "I love you."