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It’s quite amusing, really.
Well… It’s not funny, not at all. Jon’s always had shit joints and on-again-off-again muscle pain, but it was never exactly a problem until after Nikola, when the pain and stiffness really flared up. But after all of that calmed down, everything returned to a more manageable state. Or… well, manageable in the sense that he could walk. Sort of. With a cane. And even after everything that happened in the Panopticon, even after they ended up Somewhere Else, Jon was sure that he’d be alright aside from the half-healed stab wound. He could walk! No damage had been done to his legs, after all!
So whenever Martin left for work, he gave Jon his typical speech about being very careful, and wearing the socks they gave him at the hospital with the grippy pieces on the bottom so he wouldn’t slip. Jon nodded, yes, yes, whatever, it was eight in the morning and he really wanted to go back to lying in bed contemplating their existence.
-
A couple hours before Martin gets home, Jon realizes that he’s missing the book he keeps by the bed. He remembers, he left it in the kitchen while he and Martin were sitting at the table last night, reading and drinking tea.
He can get it.
There’s not a problem, really. He can walk across their flat, retrieve the book, then lie back down in bed to read for a while. (Though-- Well, he would really prefer to curl up in bed and read, but that makes his entire body throb. He is now accustomed to halfway sitting up because it hurts significantly less.)
Jon slides out of bed, reaching for his cane. He can practically hear his knees creak and pop with protest at being moved. Maybe he should have accepted the crutches they offered him at the hospital… But no, it wasn’t really that big of a deal. He could walk; he’d been through far worse.
He uses the cane to help his worse leg--he no longer has a “good leg” and a “bad leg,” but only a “less bad leg” and a “worse leg”-- and grabs onto the end of the bedframe with his free hand, trying to stabilize himself. It’s not working, exactly. Every step hurts.
He can deal with it.
The kitchen is a tiled floor, and both Jon and his husband know that it can be slippery. This is why Martin insisted on the grippy socks for Jon, and this is why Jon holds onto the counter with his free hand, until--
Ah. He’s on the ground now. What’s that pain, exactly? Aw, shit, did he land on his worse leg?
Oh. Oh Lord. What’s that bump on the side of his knee?
Jon knows how to reset a dislocated patella, it’s no problem, really. Straighten the leg, and it should pop back in. He read a statement on it a lifetime ago. This would be very useful information if it didn’t hurt far too much to even consider moving.
Hands trembling, struggling to even get his phone from his pocket, he calls Martin. He clicks a few random spots on his phone before he actually finds the call button; his vision is going fuzzy.
Martin responds on the second ring. “Hey, love, everything alright? You don’t normally call without texting fi--”
Jon opens his mouth to say something, to explain what’s happened, but all that comes out is an ugly sob.
“Jon, what’s happened?”
Jon only cries harder.
“Al-alright, I’ll be right home.”
“Okay. I fell.” Jon isn’t sure where these words are coming from, his mind has gone mostly blank.
“Shit.” There’s rustling on the other line, and Martin is saying something to someone else about promising to cover for them later, something about sick leave, Jon can’t tell, he can’t even think.
“I can’t move. My knee went out.”
“I’m sorry, it did what?”
“Dislocated. Knee cap. Mmmhpm…"
“Oh-- Oh Lord, Jon.”
“I… Mmmm…” Jon groans in pain, then through gritted teeth, “I know. I think I can get to the door, but I ca--” Jon’s brain stops working, only screaming at him to do something about the pain. Experimentally, he moves his heel forward ever so slightly. Maybe he can put the kneecap back in by himself.
Not happening. The pain is enough that fresh tears slide down his face, snot collecting under his nose.
“I’m on my way, Jon."
“Okay.”
“I love you. You’ll be okay, we’ll get through this. Just like everything else.”
“I know. I love you too,”