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Recovering from an injury is never easy—Colt’s learned that one a hundred times over. As a stunt man he’s bound to take a hit or two, or three or four or five or…you get the point. But he always recovers. Always. It’s always speedy too; in his six years of being a professional stunt man, Colt’s only ever been out of the game for three months tops. He’s learned how to train his body to get up quickly once he’s gone down. But he’s learned how to be careful too. He’s had a few instances in the past where he was itching to return to set and start stunting again and ended up setting back his progress to near baseline. He’s more acquainted with his body now; he knows what it needs, how it recovers, what it can take and what it can’t. He’s better about not pushing his limits.
But then comes that fateful day on set. Colt goes from flirting with Jody on their walkie talkies and making plans for the future to being wheeled out on a stretcher with a broken back in less than three minutes. He doesn’t remember the entire week after that. In fact, he’s unconscious for most of it. Turns out emergency surgery doesn’t usually treat your body kindly, even though it can save your life. At least he’s knocked out the entire time the possibility of paralysis is discussed. Jody isn’t so lucky. Colt isn’t very close with his family and due to the fact that they’re shooting on location it’s not easy for any of them to come out and support him. Jody’s the only one who sits in his hospital room every second she’s not at work.
When the accident first happens, it’s like all of her tears pour out at once. Jody cries until Colt comes out of surgery and she’s finally allowed to sit by his bed and hold his limp hand. Not another tear is shed until almost a week later when he can’t sit up on his own and she has to watch him come to terms with the fact that something is really really wrong here. It takes him a while to understand what happened. He’s on so much medication that it feels like a dream every time the doctors check on him and remind him that he’s just undergone surgery to realign the bones in his back.
Jody remembers the moment it sinks in.
She’s on the edge of the bed stroking Colt’s hair when a nurse steps in and starts asking him about his pain. Jody can tell that the answer he provides is a lie. She knows he’s hurting more than he’s letting on—practically a written requirement for being a stuntman. The nurse can tell too. Jody knows the woman doesn’t want to push but she needs her patients to be honest about their symptoms so an effective treatment plan can be implemented and carried out. She presses a touch more and Colt doesn’t take kindly to it, like she’s insinuating he’s just not strong enough to pull through quickly. Which is, of course, the complete opposite of what’s going on.
“Mr. Seavers, I just need to know how bad your pain is on a scale of 1-10. I am aware that you’ve answered this question ‘a million fucking times’ already, but we need to track this sort of information so we can start taking you off of these medications as soon as your body is ready. It’s best practice to keep patients on potentially addictive medications for as little time as possible,” the nurse says with an impressively level tone.
Colt scoffs, “What, you can’t give a guy some oxy for a few more weeks?”
The room goes silent. It seems as if Colt is the only person in the room who isn’t comprehending how serious his injury is, and the responsibility of explaining it to him falls on the poor nurse. Jody thinks the girl can’t have been working here for more than a year. Her face is young and kind, but right now it’s heartbroken. She takes a deep breath before she begins, “Sir, I’m not sure what information has been provided to you, but the doctor has prescribed you morphine, not oxycodone. It’s possible a medication such as oxycodone will be prescribed to you once you’re discharged, but your…your recovery will certainly take much longer than a few weeks. The surgery alone will take about six weeks recovery time, and then the amount of physical therapy and rehabilitation…”
She keeps speaking but Colt doesn’t hear any of it. Sure, he’d known that he’s in some deeper shit than he’s ever been before, but…fuck. He catches a few words here and there and it makes him feel sick. He tries to shift around in his bed but he can’t. He’s just stuck. A hiss of pain slips out of his mouth before he can even register the feeling. Jody looks away so he doesn’t see her cry.
--
For a while, Colt is determined to get better. His obsession with making a full recovery as quickly as possible only serves to disappoint him. His whole attitude sours and it’s an unusual look. Jody essentially moves in with him shortly after Colt is discharged from the hospital so that he could have someone around to help him with the little things, but that just seems to frustrate him even more. He tries to do everything on his own at first and it never goes well. He reaches up high for things that he shouldn’t, given how limited his mobility is, and it always ends up hurting him. He tries to stay on his feet longer than he should and it leaves him exhausted and achy, as well as bitchy and whiny.
He comes home one day from physical therapy and Jody knows things aren’t going to go well the minute she hears the door slam.
“Colt? Are you home?”
A terse, “Yes,” is all she receives. Oh boy.
Jody takes a deep breath before entering the kitchen where she hears Colt moving around. Maybe a hug will help tone his mood down. She goes for it, pulling him in close and stroking her fingers gently down his back. It’s always a hit or miss if he enjoys that or not. Some days he loves it and wants nothing more. Today he flinches away. His body’s already tense so it doesn’t come as a complete surprise when he separates from the hug after only a few seconds. It’s still disappointing.
The second Jody asks her next question she regrets ever opening her mouth. “So, how was it?”
The words echo in both of their ears and Colt visibly stiffens. “How do you think?”
His comment sinks Jody’s heart a bit but she’s been learning how to deal with moments like this. “Can I get you anything? You want something to eat?”
“I can make something myself.”
Okay, he’s especially touchy today. It’s quiet for a moment before Colt decides to elaborate about the session.
“They’re telling me to do fucking tai chi for exercise, they’re saying that’s like the most I can do. I’m not doing fucking tai chi, I-I should, I should be going to the gym and jumping off cliffs and flipping cars and getting set on fire and throwing myself through windows and-”
Jody cuts him off, “But you can’t do all that, Colt.” She doesn’t mean it to be rude or condescending, but the look of fury tells Jody that’s how Colt received it.
“Yeah, you think I don’t fucking know that?” He snaps. Doesn’t even bat an eyelash. This isn’t the Colt she knows—not at all. Not even a little bit. The anger, the hurt, the humiliation in his eyes make him completely unrecognizable. There’s not an ounce of regret on his face. Jody’s sure her own has heartbreak written all over it and she’s sure that Colt just doesn’t care.
It’s quiet for a moment as they both try and figure out where the conversation goes from here. “Is there anything I can do to make this easier on you?” Jody’s voice is quiet as she tests the waters.
Turns out she rocked the boat anyway. “I don’t know, can you un-break my back?”
“Colt, I’m just trying to help y-”
“Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want your help?” Colt knows he’s crossed a line—several, actually—but he doesn’t back off, just doubles down. “What can you do, really?”
Jody nods, lets out a humorless chuckle. “You’re right. Pretty stupid of me to think you’d actually want me to be there for you, wasn’t it?”
It’s now that Colt can truly see the damage he’s done. “Jody-”
“I’m going for a walk.”
She walks quickly enough that Colt couldn’t catch up to her if he tried.
--
It’s dark out when Jody returns, and Colt’s already settled in bed. Lately he’s taken up the habit of torturing himself by watching videos of the stunts he’s done, reminding himself that he might never be able to do them again. He hears the door open and perks his head up too quickly, sending a shooting pain through his neck. There’s still a few things he forgets sometimes. Like to not do that.
Several minutes pass and Jody still hasn’t entered the bedroom. Colt would go and search for her if his body wasn’t so sore, which he knows would put him in an even fucking worse mood and probably ruin things even more. So, he waits.
And he waits.
And he waits a little longer.
After about twenty-five minutes he clears his throat and calls out, “Jody?”
He hears a distant and unenthused, “Yeah?”
“Nothing,” Colt murmurs, knowing Jody won’t hear him. It stings a little when she doesn’t follow up but he knows he deserves it. Tries not to let it get under his skin.
Finally, Jody enters the room just to waltz right by Colt and into the bathroom. The shower turns on. Fuck. Colt can’t let her ignore him all night, however warranted it may be.
He rises out of bed with a groan and only a little bit of regret, almost lying back down immediately after propping himself up. But he perseveres, waddling over to the bathroom and knocking on the door.
“Jody?”
“Hm?”
Not a promising answer, but Colt doesn’t give up. “Can I come in?”
Jody sighs so loudly that Colt can hear it through the door. That’s not a good sign either. But the luck turns. “Yeah, come in.”
Colt hears the door unlock but by the time he twists the handle Jody’s already on the opposite side of the room, still clothed.
“Need to piss or something?” Jody asks coldly.
It flusters Colt. He always gets a bit thrown off whenever Jody acts like this. He supposes she must feel the same way when he’s acting pissy. He shakes his head and winces at the pain in his neck. He’s got to stop fucking doing that. “Can we talk?”
“I’m about to shower-”
Colt doesn’t really care. It’s now or never, he supposes. “I’m sorry.” Jody sighs and rubs her face with her hands. She doesn’t respond. “Physical therapy didn’t go well but that’s not your fault.”
Still, no answer. Jody just stares at herself in the small portions of the mirror that haven’t fogged up yet. It feels to Colt like his words are floating through one of her ears and out the other. Harsh words are dancing on the tip of Jody’s tongue, but she can’t bring herself to let them slip. She knows she shouldn’t—it would be over in an instant.
Her lack of response starts to agitate Colt. He’s trying, can’t she see that? Can’t she see how hard it is to have gone from doing crazy stunts on a daily basis to having had to learn how to walk again? To have just now started to be able to take care of himself on his own again? To still have to rely on other people so much? To be confined to his bed some days because the pain is still that fucking intolerable? He tries not to get heated. He knows he hurt Jody’s feelings and he knows it'll take a second for her to warm back up to him; he’s just got to make sure he doesn’t get too fired up first.
As he’s about to make a lighthearted joke about Jody wasting water, she turns to him.
“Don’t talk to me the way that you did earlier.”
Colt nods. “I know, I-”
Jody cuts him off, “I mean it. Don’t. This is not my fault, what you’re going through, and you don’t get to take it out on me.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry you had a shit day, I really am, but I’m here to try and make things easier for you.”
She really is, and Colt feels awful for taking that for granted. “I know.”
Jody continues, “And it’s really fucking frustrating when you act like I’m not on your side, like I want you to be hurt, like I’m happy you’re not getting better.”
The last bit feels like a punch in the gut and Jody realizes it was too much. She watches Colt’s fists clench and unclench.
“I meant that you’re not getting better as quickly as you would’ve hoped,” Jody adds gently.
Colt can’t bring himself to look at her. What a mess they are. The accident has slowly been ripping them apart and they’ve both been pretending it’s not happening. They’ve had several little spats now, some worse than this. Once Jody accidentally bumped into Colt as he was just starting to walk again and he ended up tweaking his back and losing his mind at her. He apologized once Jody shoved some painkillers down his throat but the air was tense for the next several days. This isn’t nearly as bad of a fight, but it’s almost harder when the little things build up like this.
The sound of the water spraying onto the tile floor fills the room. Jody runs a hand under the water to test the temperature.
She extends an olive branch. “Do you want to come in?”
Colt looks up with an eyebrow slightly cocked. “What?”
“Come in with me? I’ll wash your body,” Jody speaks softly, her tone warm and inviting.
A smile breaks Colt’s lips. “Sure.”
Things aren’t okay, but this is a step. Jody knows that duct tape won’t fix a broken dam, but it’ll keep things steady for a little while.