Chapter Text
(Jaron’s pov)
Imogen was gonna kill him.
That was the first thought Jaron had when he regained consciousness laying on the putrid ally way floor.
Pain coursed through his body, almost making him pass out again. There was no way he was gonna hide these bruises and injuries from her.
Not this time.
Gritting his teeth, he sat up and tried to stand but immediately fell back down to the ground. His head spun and it took everything in him not to vomit all over the concrete.
Why had he thought it would be a good idea to stand up to Castor and his lackeys? He was in hot enough water with them as it was, but he just had to go ahead and smart mouth Castor at school earlier that day.
Imogen had always said that his reckless actions would eventually get him stuck in a hole so deep he’d have to climb out of it.
By himself. Without her help.
She always emphasized the last part, but Jaron didn’t believe she actually meant it.
Because who in their right mind would turn their best friend away in said best friends greatest time of need?
Well.
Here he was.
Her best friend.
In his greatest time of need.
Except Imogen would easily argue that because he was always doing stupid things, pretty much all the time was his “greatest time of need.”
He could scarcely keep his eyes open as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. Eh. It was cracked, but not unusable.
Squinting at the blurry numbers swimming before his eyes, he dialed Imogen's number and prayed she wasn’t already at work.
The line rang for a solid 5 seconds before he heard Imogen pick up. Relief washed over him as he heard her worried voice.
“Jaron? Where are you? I didn’t see you at lunch or anywhere in school today. Did you skip school again? We talked about this already!”
He couldn’t keep up with her questions and was losing consciousness by the second.
Even though she sounded extremely angry, Jaron knew it was all coming from a place of concern. Well, mostly anyways.
“Imogen im-” He coughed out, feeling a stab of pain go through his ribs at the action, making him inhale a sharp breath he hoped Imogen hadn’t heard.
She probably had. Nothing ever got passed her.
The line went quiet for a moment.
He tried to gather his thoughts and think about the best way to tell her about his situation.
“Jaron,” Imogen started, quieter this time. “Where are you?”
He had to take a moment to remember what street he had been walking on when Castor and his buddies had decided to surprise him.
“Mendenwal street.” He managed to say. “Im next to Humphrey’s Whole Foods.”
“Stay put.” Was all she said.
She hung up before he could say he couldn’t move even if he wanted to.
But it was a good thing he didn’t.
That would’ve worried her more anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
15 minutes later...
Tires screeched to a sudden stop somewhere near the entrance of the alley, making Jaron wince. And not from the pain currently pulsing all over his body.
Judging by the time it had taken Imogen to get there, he was guessing she had at least run a few red lights. And sped.
Heck, even when she was driving normally she sped.
A car door slammed shut and hurried footsteps echoed across the alleyway walls.
“Jaron?” Imogen called as she looked around frantically, clearly not seeing him slumped on the wall next to a pile of crates behind her.
“Hey.” He answered, pasting a cheeky grin on his face all the while ignoring how much even that simple action hurt. “Glad you could make it. How has your day been?”
He hoped the calmer he acted, the less worried (and mad) she would be.
Imogen whirled around and at seeing him she gasped and covered her mouth. Rushing toward him, she knelt by his side and grabbed his arm. Hard.
“OWWW!” He couldn’t help shouting out. Pain shot through his arm, beginning where her hand had squeezed, and working its way to the top.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” She let go quickly all the while apologizing profusely and hovered her hands around as if unsure of what to do.
“Jaron, who did this..?” She finally whispered.
He thought he saw tears in her eyes, but he couldn’t trust his blurry vision at the moment.
“Who else?” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. “Freaking Castor.”
He tried sitting up straighter, trying his hardest not to grimace from the stinging pain. “Honestly Imogen, it’s not as bad as it looks.”
She fixed him with a look of utter disbelief.
“I’d slap you right now if you weren’t so beaten up!” She shouted, making an ally cat who was probably just trying to find some dinner in the nearby dumpster yowl and scurry away.
Shaking her head in exasperation, she pushed a hand through her hair, causing some of the strands in her loose braid to escape and stick up slightly.
She looked funny now. Gazing into space with a murderous look on her face, her hair slightly askew.
She always managed to look so adorable to him no matter the circumstances.
But of course, he would never ever say that out loud to her.
He almost did, though, which surprised him. He must’ve hit his head pretty hard when Castor had shoved him to the floor.
“Why, i oughta give Castor and his cronies a piece of my mind.” Imogen was saying. “Those little jerks. Next time i see them i’ll…”
He tuned her out. But not on purpose. He couldn’t help it.
Although it was nice to hear her dissing Castor, he was kinda in too much pain to enjoy it.
He cleared his throat to get her attention, but immediately regretted it when she turned to glare at him.
“And you! What were you thinking? I told you to steer clear of them. But do you ever even listen to me? No! You don't even consider my advice, you only listen to your own head cuz apparently it knows best! Never mind that it always has stupid ideas!”
Oh boy. She was really mad.
He had only ever seen her like this once before.
And that was years ago when they were in the 2nd grade and he had spilled his spaghetti and meatballs all over her dress.
And then, for good measure, all over her hair.
On purpose.
What! He couldn’t help it if he had been bored out of his mind listening to her drone on about her current crush, Timmy Carson, who had shared his PB&J with her at recess.
His only regret about that was that she wouldn’t talk to him for weeks afterwards.
The best thing to do was probably staying quiet until she finished blowing off steam.
Except that was a little hard to do, seeing as he had just been beaten to a pulp a few minutes ago, and was starting to see specks of white in his vision.
When Imogen finally stoped ranting, she gave a long sigh, seeming to lose her fire, and carefully started inspecting his arms and legs.
“I’m sorry.” Jaron said hoarsely, feeling his bloody lips crack.
He honestly didn’t see how this was his fault, since it was Castor who had attacked him first. But he apologized anyway because that seemed like the right thing to do when facing a red hot angry Imogen.
She sighed again and touched his swollen cheek lightly, causing his heart to skip a beat.
Lately, he found even the slightest touches from her would make his heart start beating faster for no reason whatsoever.
“No, im the one who should be apologizing.” Imogen leaned back on her heels and stared at the ground. “The first thing i should have done when i arrived shouldn’t have been to fling insults at you.” Glancing back up at him with a frown, she added, “Though you do deserve them.”
Jaron grinned as best as he could, knowing his bottom lip was probably split open and his cheek was as purple as an eggplant.
“Aw, but you know how much i love those creative insults of yours.”
Shaking her head, Imogen turned away, but not before he caught the start of a smile on her face.
As much as Imogen would deny it, Jaron knew she couldn’t stay mad at him for long.
She cleared her throat, suppressing the smile, and looked him up and down.
“Are you good to walk?” She asked. “My cars only a few feet away. I can help you up, if you need me to.”
Her honey brown eyes peered at him questioningly, and he couldn’t help but notice the way they shined almost golden in the sun.
A wisp of her hair had gotten lose from her braid and danced along her face in the breeze and he had the sudden urge to hook it behind her ear.
He realized he hadn't answered her question and quickly suppressed the urge, hoping she hadn’t realized he’d been staring.
“Uh, sure.” He said lamely.
What the heck was happening to him?
Little by little, he’d been noticing random little things about Imogen that unwillingly made his heart flutter.
Like the way she’d laugh at the dumbest things he’d say, or how she would always listen to him intently with those big brown eyes of hers, giving him advice on anything he was contemplating.
And despite her earlier complaints, he actually did listen to her advice.
It wasn't his fault sometimes it was impossible to follow.
Jaron always told himself that he had always known all those things about her and was making a big deal out of nothing.
But a small, quiet part of him always asked, “Am i falling in love with my best friend…?”
And he’d make sure to squish that question and voice down to the deepest depths of his mind each time it came.
Because that was just ridiculous.
He could never be in love with Imogen. They were best friends.
And that was all they’d ever be.
Jaron pushed his confusing thoughts aside and slung an arm over Imogen’s shoulders, ignoring how his heart started beating faster again, due to how close they were and the fact that her arm was wrapped tightly around his waist.
Never mind that he was close enough to smell the shampoo she used on her hair.
Together, they lifted off the ground and walked slowly over to Imogen’s car.
It was a struggle getting into the seat, and he was pretty sure his right leg was broken.
“Just dont bend your leg.” Imogen told him after he pointed that out to her.
He bit his tongue to stop himself from saying that it was physically impossible to get into her tiny car and sit in its tiny seat, all without bending his leg.
He had always teased her about the small size of her car , but now he was actually complaining.
Imogen would defend her small compact car to the death if necessary, and he had aggravated her enough as it was. He didn’t need to make her mad again.
And so, he did manage to get into the car, though it did come with a painful cost.
Slumping in his seat he closed his eyes and rested his head, vaguely aware that Imogen had walked back to the alley to retrieve his backpack and anything else he might have dropped.
Maybe he could get a few minutes of sleep while she drove. He felt exhausted.
Except she’d probably tell him not to fall asleep, just in case he had a concussion, being the caretaker she always was.
Imogen quickly got into the car and started it.
She cleared her throat awkwardly after a few minutes of silence.
“Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” She asked quietly.
Jaron knew the question had been coming, and yet, he still couldn’t stop the dread that struck his heart at hearing the word “hospital”.
This time a he felt a different kind of pain.
He had watched his mother die in a hospital 7 years ago. He had only been 11 at the time, almost 12.
And his father had followed shortly after, along with his older brother, Darius.
His mother had been diagnosed with an incurable disease and had died the same month of the diagnosis.
And his father and brother had gotten into a severe car accident 5 weeks later.
They had all died in the same hospital. It was the hardest thing he had ever gone through.
In the span of 2 months, Jaron had lost the only family he had, with the exception of Imogen, who had been a close friend of the family’s ever since they had been little.
Her presence had been the only comfort during those painful months. It had been a miracle, everyone had always said, that even after suffering that much trauma at such a young age, he had been able to grow up normally without any severe mental issues.
But he knew it wasn't by any miracle. It had been purely him making a decision to not get dragged down by the past.
He had found the best way to cope with all the grief was to push it all down, deep into his soul so that it would be buried under so much stuff, it would never resurface again.
And after years of practice, he had become an expert at it.
Jaron had vowed never to step foot into any hospital ever again.
All they had in them was misery and grief.
He never wanted to relive the memories, and he was afraid that going into a hospital would bring them all rushing back.
Imogen’s soft voice pulled him back to reality and away from his dark thoughts.
“Jaron.” She touched his shoulder lightly and comfortingly.
She probably knew what he was thinking about, but he didn't want to talk about it. Not now. Not ever.
Instead, he pushed the memories away.
“Nah,” he plastered a smile on his face. “I told you, its not that bad. Lets just pick up some supplies at the store or something. Im sure you can patch me up really nicely.”
Imogen looked like she wanted to argue, but he knew she of all people understood his refusal of going to the hospital.
She nodded instead and smiled gently reaching for his less injured hand to squeeze it quickly.
She probably had no idea how much that small touch affected him.
Imogen turned forward with a determined look on her face and grasped the steering wheel.
“Okay. I guess its time to bust out my doctor skills.” She revved the engine and tossed him a smirk. “Buckle up, buttercup. This ride’s about to get fast.”
Well then.
So much for napping during the drive.