Work Text:
Tick. Tock.
Tick. Tock.
Do it.
TJ awoke in a panic. Cold sweat covered his forehead. His chest heaved with a ragged breath. He could feel his heartbeat racing, nearly exploding out of his chest. The rush of blood pulsed in his ears and as loud as it was, the sound of a ticking clock was louder. It rung throughout his head. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Where was he? All he could see was darkness. His eyes were wide awake now, but they couldn’t focus. Everything blurred. Everything was dark. He frantically ran his hands alongside where he laid, feeling the sheets along his fingertips. He flexed his fingers to grasp at something, anything that would have grounded him. And then, warmth. He held on tightly, rubbing his fingers along the soft skin of an arm, a wrist, then a hand. TJ inhaled sharply to steady his breathing. He circled his thumb along the back of the hand. The knuckles were calloused, but the skin was soft. He breathed in and out, until his chest rose and fell into step with the ticking of the clock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. In and out, he breathed; he listened. The roaring blood in his ears died down and the clock retreated until the echoing faded and loudness was reduced to a soft ticking.
With his steady breathing also came clarity. He blinked, taking in the room, remembering where he was. This was his house. His and Jesse’s. There were the dark walls that surrounded him on all sides, the nightstand, the white ceiling, the closet left ajar, and the small black clock hanging across the room. It ticked softly. He turned his head on his pillow. Jesse was sleeping soundly, much to his surprise. Despite all the noise TJ had made from his nightmare, Jesse’s face remained half-smushed into his pillow. TJ circled his thumb along Jesse’s hand. Jesse’s lips moved, making a small noise as Jesse shifted in bed. TJ froze. He hoped he didn’t wake Jesse. This was TJ’s problem, and he didn’t want his boyfriend losing sleep because of this. Jesse stopped stirring, and the invisible clutch on TJ’s chest released.
Slowly, he released his grip on Jesse’s hand and pushed himself upright, swinging his legs off the bed. Sharp pain struck his bad leg as he shifted positions. TJ winced, biting his teeth together in a hiss. Pin pricks jabbed up and down his leg, accompanied by an incredibly uncomfortable tightness in his calf and along his hip. As light the fabric of his pants was, every inch that touched his leg felt like the sting of a dozen — no, a thousand — needles. The contact his foot was making with the carpet sent jolts up his leg. The muscles in his thigh also seemed to tighten involuntarily, as if bracing against the jolts. TJ took a shaky breath, trying to concentrate on a solid thought. His leg was on fire and bursting with electricity at the same time. It was overstimulating. He couldn’t think.
He lifted his heel off the floor with a grunt, trying to alleviate the stinging sensation shooting up his leg. The leg was slow to move, and as much as he tried to lift it, it seemed to budge no less than an inch above the ground. If all his muscles had been replaced with solid steel and all his bones had hardened into dense sheet metal, calling his leg heavy would be an understatement. It felt like it was one of those days.
He didn’t get much leg pain now. It had been months since he underwent physical therapy, and even slightly longer since he got shot. The pain had mostly died down save for the occasional pin pricks on rainy days (he still wasn’t sure why it acted up on rainy days, but Emma had suggested it was just a placebo; TJ wasn’t convinced). During his months of recovery, he had found out that the pain from all his nerve damage would return on select bad days, he called it. Bad days would begin in the mornings when he awoke from a nightmare and the sensation would last the entire day, slowly fading until he went to sleep with nothing but a stinging feeling. Today was a bad day, he decided. TJ winced as he began massaging his leg, doing his best to ignore the pricking feeling that occupied every thought in his mind. He couldn’t remember what the nightmare was about. He never could. The only thing that remained was always the ticking clock and a really, creepy voice that hissed in his ear. A cold chill ran up his spine as he thought about the voice. TJ shivered.
Taking his time, he pushed himself to his feet. The pin pricks doubled as his weight fell on his bad leg. TJ’s breathing stuttered. Okay. Just walk. He took a step with his good leg. Then, his bad leg. TJ hit the wall with a thud, both his hands planted firmly on the wall to keep himself from hitting the floor. As soon as he let his weight shift, his knee had given way. TJ cursed under his breath. Jesse stirred again, rolling further into his pillow, nearly completely facedown at this point. TJ looked to him cautiously, but his boyfriend stayed asleep. As much as Jesse could snap awake for an active gunfight in the Billy in the dead of night, TJ was grateful he could sleep through him stumbling throughout the house.
TJ made his way to the bathroom, leaning himself along the walls the entire time. The window in the bathroom was lit full of moonlight, letting TJ get a good look at himself in the mirror. He balanced his hip onto the countertop as he turned on the faucet. Cold water fell into his hands, making his shoulders tense immediately. He let it run for a second before splashing it onto his face. If he wasn’t awake before, he was now. The cold bit into his skin and water escaped onto his bare chest, making him flinch. Momentarily, it overpowered the stinging in his leg, the freezing water shocking all the nerves along his face into a numbness. He splashed his face some more until his chest ran with stray droplets. TJ stood there, trying to collect himself. He stared into the mirror as warmth returned to his face. The cold numbness washed away, and the pin pricks took over again. He grabbed a towel, dabbing the water away and wiping his face and neck clear of sweat.
With a hand along the wall, TJ made his way into the kitchen. His leg limped heavily, and he was practically dragging it across the house as he walked. His knee wasn’t having any of it today, he supposed. Bad days weren’t always this bad. Most of the bad days that he could recall had sprung up during his time with Emma, where she had made him take a handful of pills to ease the pain and aching that he felt. As much as Emma claimed they would help, they did to an extent. But they also made him feel like absolute shit. They made him feel unwell, and while they kept him asleep, he always felt unwell waking up too. The pain back then was like the pain he was feeling now, but this time TJ wasn’t so keen on knocking the pain away until he was knocked out himself. His leg hummed, alive with electricity. Fuck. Today was just a really bad day.
He leaned against the kitchen counter and opened a cupboard, searching for a cup. Footsteps sounded behind him and TJ turned to see Jesse, rubbing a sleepy eye from his face. His hair was flattened and sticking out all on one side.
“Why are you awake?” Jesse’s voice slurred with drowsiness.
TJ pulled a cup from the cupboard. He took a moment to respond. “I had a nightmare,” he muttered under his breath.
TJ concentrated as he poured himself a glass of water, his back towards Jesse. It took only a second before Jesse suddenly appeared by his side. A hand reached towards TJ’s face, and he felt fingers brush the stubble on his jawline. The sleep had seemingly disappeared from Jesse’s eyes. They were now full of concern. Jesse’s whole demeanor had suddenly switched.
“Are you okay?”
TJ could see that his eyes were searching his face, but TJ couldn’t quite look at Jesse. His eyes were turned towards his boyfriend, yet he couldn’t help but look past him. His eye twitched as Jesse’s touch.
“Yeah,” TJ’s voice was distant, as if not quite there. He drank greedily from the cup. “I’m okay.” He pressed Jesse’s hovering hand onto his cheek. It was so warm. He gave Jesse’s palm a quick kiss and pulled a reassuring smile onto his face as he looked into his boyfriend’s eyes.
Jesse huffed with a frown. The concern hanging from his brow was not leaving, much to TJ’s disappointment. Regardless, TJ supplied a weak laugh. He leaned into Jesse’s touch. It was what had brought him back from his nightmare; what had brought him back to reality. TJ longed for more of it as the pins and needles in his leg poked and prodded him. The muscles in his leg tightened and sharp pain stabbed up and down his skin. Every part of his mind was overtaken with pain. The longer he stood, the more the pins shot up his leg in spurts. TJ blinked through it all. He struggled to focus on Jesse’s hand, so he leaned in for more, for something to take it all away. TJ slid his hip off the countertop, pressing close to Jesse. But his knee buckled. His weight shifted, and TJ fell into Jesse’s arms. They stumbled, clumsily, with hands grasping onto the countertop and to each other. Perhaps TJ got a bit greedy, but his leg was on fire. Any distraction, however quick and fleeting, would have done. Anything.
“Okay. You are not okay, TJ.”
Jesse looked down to TJ’s limp leg, grunting as he clutched the countertop. It was dead weight under them both.
“You’re going to sit on the couch. Right now. C’mon.”
It was more of an order than a suggestion. TJ didn’t fight it. As much as he wanted to argue that he was fine, the pin pricks stabbed at his skin in retaliation. He let Jesse half-guide, half-carry him to the couch without a word. Jesse set him down gently, but the contact of the couch sent a shock up his leg and into his hip. TJ bit the inside of his cheek. Jesse sat down beside him, and TJ outstretched his leg out, resting his heel on the carpet.
“What’s wrong with your leg? And don’t lie to me,” Jesse’s tone grew serious.
“It’s just… It’s not anything new, just….” TJ rubbed the back of his neck with a hand.
“A bad day?”
“Yeah.”
Jesse slumped into the couch with a huff. “Fuckin’ hell, TJ.
“How bad is it?”
“…Pretty fucking bad.”
“On a scale from 1 to 10, 10 being the worst.”
TJ bit his lip, “Nine?”
“Did you take anything yet?”
“Jesse, don’t worry about me —”
“Answer my question,” Jesse’s tone rang flat. TJ could tell that Jesse was getting angrier.
“It’s fine. I don’t need it.”
“TJ…”
“I don’t need it,” TJ repeated harsher this time.
Jesse responded by putting his face in both his hands before pulling his hands up, and out through his hair. He got up with an “Okay” muttered under his breath and moved swiftly into the kitchen. TJ watched him move behind the couch before slumping into the cushions. With his leg the way it was, TJ couldn’t get up to stop Jesse if he tried. He didn’t want Jesse to worry about him. He really didn’t. All it did was make TJ worry about Jesse, and absolutely nothing would get done if they kept worrying about each other all the damn time. His boyfriend was up at odd hours, running around keeping the hangarounds in lines, moving guns across the city and sometimes got next to no sleep. He was high command; he had a club to run. TJ didn’t want to be another priority for him when he was busy enough. And yet, he found himself as one anyway. Besides, TJ could take care of himself. He didn’t like asking others for help when he was perfectly fine completing the task on his own. This was no different.
TJ waited. Jesse was keen on helping him and TJ knew in the back of his mind that he should let him help. Maybe the one thing that made them so compatible was their sheer stubbornness. TJ tilted his head back onto the couch and closed his eyes. The rushing sound of water filled the empty silence. He could hear it being filled into a cup as the rushing water gurgled, and then stopped. A cabinet door opened followed by a series of very familiar rattling noises. He could hear Jesse grunting as he grabbed something. Whatever he was grabbing was on the top shelf. TJ knew exactly what it was. He opened his eyes just as Jesse returned with an armful of orange bottles and his cup, now filled with more water. TJ raised a brow. Several orange bottles full of tiny pills rolled onto the coffee table as Jesse released them from his arm. They rattled like candy as they spun around on the glass. Jesse sat and handed him the cup of water. His face was still full of seriousness.
TJ looked at the bottles. After he got shot, Emma had put him on several medications. Some were for the nightmare-inducing PTSD, accompanying anxiety and depression; others were painkillers of all sorts. At first, it took some real convincing (and perhaps some strong-arming from Emma) to get TJ to take any medication other than painkillers. But after a few nights of waking up screaming in the poor doctor’s guest room, he gave in. After he left her care, she had insisted he continue taking them, but TJ didn’t touch any of them.
He reached out to the fallen bottles, now rolling on the tabletop, and lined them all up in a shaky, little row like he had done many times before. It had been months since he had touched any of the bottles. He had chosen to store them on the top shelf on their cabinets, away from eyesight. When they first bought the house, Jesse had seen them the second the two of them started moving things into the kitchen, but Jesse never pressed him about them. Eventually, Jesse started to catch on to TJ’s bad days, and so TJ told Jesse about the medication. Sometimes when TJ would return to the house with a heavier limp than usual, Jesse would wordlessly leave the bottles on the kitchen counter (Jesse didn’t know what each one was for, so he had ended up leaving all the bottles out).
There were a few times when others had discovered them, like when Stevie came in for a tour of their new house and started unravelling cabinets for wine glasses to celebrate. TJ found the bottles lined up on the countertop the next day. Stevie had taken the liberty of labeling the white caps with numbers (which TJ did appreciate), as well as decorating them with shiny stickers (much to his dismay).
“They all look the same!” she complained, stacking the newly bedazzled bottles into a tower.
“At least, like, label them or something so you don’t have to read the names all the time. How do you even read these things? I can’t even pronounce them!”
The fact was, TJ had kept them hidden. He didn’t want to talk about them. He didn’t want to look at them. But now, he stared at them, the jolting shocks from his leg crawling up and down his skin. Jesse probably sensed his hesitation and put a hand on his arm.
“Take the painkillers at least.”
TJ picked up the bottle labeled 5. There was a leopard sticker curling around the label on the front, its rosettes sparkling in gold foil. It had a mischievous look on its face as if to say, “Better take your meds or I’ll do you worse than a headache!”. The pain was killing him at this point.
TJ set down his cup and shook two pills into his palm. He washed it down quickly with the cup of water.
“Are you happy now?” his voice was sharp, and it took him a moment before TJ realized it had perhaps a bit too much sass to it.
Jesse grabbed both of TJ’s hands into his own.
“Cunt, this isn’t for me. It’s to make sure you’re okay,” there was an edge, an anger, in his tone. “I don’t want to see you hurt. I don’t want to see you hurting. If something’s wrong… if something’s wrong, let me know. I’m here to help you. That’s my job.”
“I don’t want you worrying about me.” I don’t need you worrying about me.
“TJ, I worry about you because I care. I care about you. I care about you and your health and your stupid leg. Nothing’s going to change that, cunt.” Jesse’s grasp on his hands tightened. “I don’t care if you think you can take care of yourself because you can’t. You can’t, TJ, because you’re not taking care of yourself. Look at you. You’re falling over when you’re standing, cunt. You have meds right here and you hide them. This isn’t taking care of yourself.
“Look, I know we’re both stubborn motherfuckers, but you need to get it through your head that I can only stop worrying about you when there’s nothing to worry about.
In a quieter voice, almost a mumble, “Don’t lie to me about this shit.”
There was a whole new weight being set on top of his chest as Jesse spoke, and it started to crush him as Jesse went on. He knew he was being stubborn, but he just couldn’t help it. Jesse was busy all the time and TJ’s problems seemed like such a burden. He could fix it all with his meds but… ugh. He hated the meds so much. It was petty, he knew that, but after a month of dosing up and feeling all the lows and no highs, TJ couldn’t stand the sight of the stupid, orange bottles. Even buying metamorphine under a shady bridge from a hobo seemed more enticing (and it was in the moment). But Jesse was right. It didn’t take a genius to figure this out. Jesse cared. He cared about him. TJ’s fingers rubbed over Jesse’s.
“I’m being stubborn, I know. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re independent. I get that.”
Jesse’s nose rubbed against TJ’s cheek, and a kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth. It was there in the dark that they shared a private moment. It was quiet, and calm except from the humming of an electrical buzz pulsating from TJ’s leg that no one could hear except TJ. Jesse’s hands caressed TJ’s, and their foreheads pressed against each other’s.
“Just promise me to take better care of yourself.”
“I promise, I promise.”
“Good. I don’t need you losing to your own leg in the middle of a gunfight,” Jesse joked.
“Oh, shut up!”
The two of them smiled at each other, a laugh caught behind their teeth. They settled down and the room quieted once again.
“Why don’t you take your meds? Do you not like them that much?” it was very quiet in the way that Jesse spoke, with more of a drawl than his normal speech. He sounded genuinely curious.
“No.” TJ closed his eyes. “Some of them just make me tired, and I can’t think straight. I can’t do any real work when I’m on them. If I take them at night, I just wake up feeling… weird, like ‘out of it’. I don’t know how to describe it.” There was a little more to that, but he didn’t want to go into it all right this second.
“Even the painkillers?”
“Even the painkillers. They just make me a little woozy though.”
“Can you promise me to take those at the very least then? I won’t force you to take the other ones if they make you feel bad. I just… don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I know. I promise. The painkillers are… tolerable, I guess.”
“Alright.” Jesse paused and gave TJ’s hands a squeeze. “Do you need to take any more meds? Or was the one you just took enough?”
“I took a painkiller.”
“Do you need anything for your nightmares?”
TJ hesitated. He really didn’t want to take more, especially the one for his PTSD. That one was the one he hated the most. It always gave him weird dreams (debatably worse dreams) and it made him feel the most sluggish and demotivated he has ever felt in his entire life. He side-glanced at the bottles on the table. The one on the farthest left glared at him through a glittery, smiley face sticker. TJ scrunched his nose in response. It was very possible he would get more nightmares if he went back to sleep without it, but he was willing to risk it. Maybe he would take it if he got a second nightmare, but right now he wasn’t that desperate.
“No. I’ll be okay.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure!” TJ managed a giggle. That made Jesse smile, and all the heaviness on his chest suddenly crumbled. TJ’s heart pulled. “But maybe… can I have you instead?”
Jesse raised his brows, pursing his lips. “You want me to be your meds?”
“Mhmm.”
“Oh, does that mean you’re going to eat me?” Jesse teased back.
“I just might,” a laugh bubbled in TJ’s chest.
They shared a few kisses on the couch, soft and intimate. But soon TJ began to yawn, and he could feel the gears in his brain coming to a slow and the pin pricks in his leg beginning to ebb away. The painkillers were kicking in. Bedtime, Jesse had decided after TJ’s second yawn within the minute. With great struggle, Jesse helped TJ to his feet and guided him back to bed.
They curled up together beneath the blanket, facing each other. The warmth of the blanket drew TJ in with a hug. His eyelids grew heavy and tugged with sleep. The pin pricking in his leg remained strong, the pain fading in and out every other second. It would probably be gone by the morning, although sometimes the pain would resurge when the pills wore off. TJ was too tired to worry about that. He would deal with it when it came down to it. A reminder in the back of his mind told him that he would wake up feeling dizzy and not quite there and more painkillers would mean he couldn’t help the club too much, but… Jesse would be there. It would be alright.
It was still a little dark in the room, but TJ could see Jesse’s eyes. They were soft and focused on him, and they squinted slightly as Jesse smiled. TJ reached for Jesse’s hand and Jesse gave it to him wordlessly. He felt the rough callouses along the knuckles and moved his fingers along Jesse’s smooth skin. TJ linked their hands loosely by their fingers, palm resting in palm. The clock in the background continued to march to a steady beat, ticking softly. TJ felt like he could stay in this position forever. He yawned.
“Close your eyes. Go to sleep,” Jesse hummed in that soft voice of his.
TJ did so.
He didn’t dream for the rest of the night.