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raynedanserwritesFandom: Southland
Title: Everything has a Beginning
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
raynedanser
Pairing: Cooper/Sherman
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 1400
Author's Notes: Part I | Part II | Part III
*****
After dropping John off at the hospital, Ben had driven around the city for hours, thinking over the events from the past year - from fresh out of the academy when he’d first been assigned John as his T.O. to tonight when John had finally, fully let his guard down with him. Until tonight, John had always been so careful to leave that barrier up. Once in a while, there’d been a hint, a lowering of it for just a heartbeat, but as soon as Ben began to realize it, John would snap that wall back up, stronger than ever. It made Ben dizzy trying to keep up with it. When Ben had finally gotten home and fallen into bed, the sun was just beginning its climb into the sky. He hoped he could squeeze in an hour’s nap before being back at the station.
He’d waited for those first few days, riding them out with Sammy and the chip on his shoulder the size of the Golden Gate Bridge, getting home exhausted but too tired to sleep. On Saturday morning, he decided it had been long enough and he grabbed the keys to his car and headed off to the hospital to see John. Before he did, he made a stop at John’s, shaking his head at the poorly hidden spare key and carefully padded through the home to find him some spare clothes.
At the hospital, when Ben had asked at the nurse’s station, he found out that John was still sleeping. At the nurse’s questioning gaze, Ben had explained, “I’m his partner,” before continuing on to John’s room, paper bag clutched tightly in one hand.
Ben nudged the door open with the back of his hand and entered the room. The curtains were still drawn and John was asleep on the bed, his face relaxed, breathing softly. He looked more at peace now than he had in a while, Ben thought. He looked around, found a wing chair nearby that was covered in the same ghastly floral fabric that matched the curtains and pulled it closer to the bed. He sat in the chair, dropped the paper sack of John’s spare clothes on the floor and tipped his head back.
He told himself he was only going to close his eyes for a second, but the next thing he heard was a gruff, “You look like hell.”
Ben opened his eyes, met John’s, clear and bright and alert, and smiled. “Yeah, well, I could say the same thing.”
John grunted and nodded at the sack on the floor. “You bring me breakfast?”
Ben looked down at the bag that he’d nearly forgotten about. “I thought you’d like some clean clothes. Brought you some other stuff, too.”
Something shifted in John’s expression, softening. “You brought me clothes?” he asked softly.
Ben shrugged. “Figured you’d want ‘em.”
For a few minutes more, they sat in silence, Ben still in the chair, John sitting up in the bed, each warily watching the other. Ben couldn’t help but think that something between them had shifted ever so slightly, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
After a few minutes, he stood, clearing his throat. “I should - I should get going. Mom’s got some big thing today and I’m expected to make an appearance like the dutiful son that I am,” he explained reluctantly.
John nodded, but said nothing until Ben had reached the door. “Boo?” he began, using the nick name he’d given Ben. What had started out as the typical “Boot” had eventually been shortened to Boo, John’s own name for him.
Ben paused and turned around, hand on the door handle. “Yeah?”
“Thank you,” John said quietly.
Ben nodded once. “Sure.”
After that, Ben made sure to stop in every morning or every afternoon, depending on his schedule. Even the day John finally had his back surgery, Ben made sure to be there when he woke up. Ben had become such a fixture, no one thought twice when he’d insisted on being in the recovery room waiting for John’s eyes to open.
Ben sat nervously. It was one thing to be there day after day visiting while John detoxed, but being there after surgery, as the first person John would see, that was something else. When John’s eyes finally fluttered open, he smiled when he saw Ben.
“Was hoping it would be you,” he said quietly, licking his dry lips.
Ben reached forward, got the cup with the ice chips in it off the stand and spooned a few into John’s parched mouth. “Me?” he asked quietly as he sat down on the edge of John’s bed.
John nodded, chewed the ice and swallowed. “Yeah. When I woke up. Didn’t want anyone else in here.”
Ben made a show of checking John’s iv line. “What do they have in this thing anyway?” he teased nervously. He had a feeling that finally, whatever it was that had been unnamed between them was going to come to the surface, which made him both nervous and jittery.
John shook his head. “No drugs, I know what I’m saying,” he said. Without looking away from Ben, he tentatively slid one hand over Ben’s, squeezing gently.
Ben met John’s gaze evenly, glanced down once at their hands, then turned his over, palm up, and linked their fingers together, squeezing back. All at once, it was as though something inside had let go and settled into place. Something shifted in John’s expression, relaxing, softening.
“Yeah, I thought so,” Ben agreed.
Nothing else was said about it, though. No declarations of love, not that Ben had been expecting any, but he’d thought maybe there would be something as he’d continued visiting John every day until he was discharged.
*****
Today, Ben stood behind John as he gingerly lowered himself into Ben’s car, hissing through his teeth and swearing as he did. Once he was in, Ben helped with the seat belt, folded the shiny walker into the back seat of the car and got in himself.
“You ok?”
“Just go, Ben,” John bit out.
“You’re white as a sheet. What did they give you for pain?” Ben asked in concern.
John shook his head. “No drugs.”
Ben looked at him sharply as he pulled away from the curb. “John, you have to have something. Tylenol, even.”
John looked at Ben, face set stubbornly, eyes hard. “No drugs, Ben.”
Knowing it would be useless to argue, Ben continued the drive back to John’s in silence.
Once in John’s driveway, they began the process of getting him out of Ben’s car. When Ben set the walker near the car door, John gave him a glare that used to have Ben withering, but now he only smiled indulgently as he waited, then carefully helped John into his house.
“Where do you want to go? Bed or couch?” Ben asked as they slowly moved into the home.
“Couch. I’ve had enough of the bed - unless you’re going to join me.”
Ben clamped his mouth shut and felt his face warm. So it was like this, was it? Wordlessly, he helped John to the couch, then to lower himself and get comfortable. He made sure John had the remote in easy reach and a glass of water.
“Do you at least want some Tylenol? No one says you have to be a hero,” Ben asked him from the kitchen.
“Ben. No. Drugs.”
“Ok,” Ben said and went back into the living room. He sat in the chair next to the couch until John was sighing at him in frustration.
“Boo, come here,” John said. “You’re not going to break me.”
Ben sat next to John and instead of watching the tv, watched him. “What are we doing?” Ben finally asked because he couldn’t stand not knowing.
“I was hoping we could figure that out together,” John answered.
“Uh uh. I don’t do that. Either we’re in our we’re out. Nothing halfway.”
John was quiet so long, Ben started to get nervous and wondered if maybe he would have been better off keeping his mouth shut. But then John grinned and his whole face lit up with it and Ben relaxed as John agreed.
“Ok.”
“OK?” Ben parroted.
“Ok.”
And because he could, Ben leaned forward, brushing his lips lightly over John’s, chuckling when John growled in frustration as Ben pulled back.
“When you’re better,” Ben promised. “We’ll have all kinds of time when you’re better.”
~ fini
Title: Everything has a Beginning
Author:
raynedanserPairing: Cooper/Sherman
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 1400
Author's Notes: Part I | Part II | Part III
After dropping John off at the hospital, Ben had driven around the city for hours, thinking over the events from the past year - from fresh out of the academy when he’d first been assigned John as his T.O. to tonight when John had finally, fully let his guard down with him. Until tonight, John had always been so careful to leave that barrier up. Once in a while, there’d been a hint, a lowering of it for just a heartbeat, but as soon as Ben began to realize it, John would snap that wall back up, stronger than ever. It made Ben dizzy trying to keep up with it. When Ben had finally gotten home and fallen into bed, the sun was just beginning its climb into the sky. He hoped he could squeeze in an hour’s nap before being back at the station.
He’d waited for those first few days, riding them out with Sammy and the chip on his shoulder the size of the Golden Gate Bridge, getting home exhausted but too tired to sleep. On Saturday morning, he decided it had been long enough and he grabbed the keys to his car and headed off to the hospital to see John. Before he did, he made a stop at John’s, shaking his head at the poorly hidden spare key and carefully padded through the home to find him some spare clothes.
At the hospital, when Ben had asked at the nurse’s station, he found out that John was still sleeping. At the nurse’s questioning gaze, Ben had explained, “I’m his partner,” before continuing on to John’s room, paper bag clutched tightly in one hand.
Ben nudged the door open with the back of his hand and entered the room. The curtains were still drawn and John was asleep on the bed, his face relaxed, breathing softly. He looked more at peace now than he had in a while, Ben thought. He looked around, found a wing chair nearby that was covered in the same ghastly floral fabric that matched the curtains and pulled it closer to the bed. He sat in the chair, dropped the paper sack of John’s spare clothes on the floor and tipped his head back.
He told himself he was only going to close his eyes for a second, but the next thing he heard was a gruff, “You look like hell.”
Ben opened his eyes, met John’s, clear and bright and alert, and smiled. “Yeah, well, I could say the same thing.”
John grunted and nodded at the sack on the floor. “You bring me breakfast?”
Ben looked down at the bag that he’d nearly forgotten about. “I thought you’d like some clean clothes. Brought you some other stuff, too.”
Something shifted in John’s expression, softening. “You brought me clothes?” he asked softly.
Ben shrugged. “Figured you’d want ‘em.”
For a few minutes more, they sat in silence, Ben still in the chair, John sitting up in the bed, each warily watching the other. Ben couldn’t help but think that something between them had shifted ever so slightly, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
After a few minutes, he stood, clearing his throat. “I should - I should get going. Mom’s got some big thing today and I’m expected to make an appearance like the dutiful son that I am,” he explained reluctantly.
John nodded, but said nothing until Ben had reached the door. “Boo?” he began, using the nick name he’d given Ben. What had started out as the typical “Boot” had eventually been shortened to Boo, John’s own name for him.
Ben paused and turned around, hand on the door handle. “Yeah?”
“Thank you,” John said quietly.
Ben nodded once. “Sure.”
After that, Ben made sure to stop in every morning or every afternoon, depending on his schedule. Even the day John finally had his back surgery, Ben made sure to be there when he woke up. Ben had become such a fixture, no one thought twice when he’d insisted on being in the recovery room waiting for John’s eyes to open.
Ben sat nervously. It was one thing to be there day after day visiting while John detoxed, but being there after surgery, as the first person John would see, that was something else. When John’s eyes finally fluttered open, he smiled when he saw Ben.
“Was hoping it would be you,” he said quietly, licking his dry lips.
Ben reached forward, got the cup with the ice chips in it off the stand and spooned a few into John’s parched mouth. “Me?” he asked quietly as he sat down on the edge of John’s bed.
John nodded, chewed the ice and swallowed. “Yeah. When I woke up. Didn’t want anyone else in here.”
Ben made a show of checking John’s iv line. “What do they have in this thing anyway?” he teased nervously. He had a feeling that finally, whatever it was that had been unnamed between them was going to come to the surface, which made him both nervous and jittery.
John shook his head. “No drugs, I know what I’m saying,” he said. Without looking away from Ben, he tentatively slid one hand over Ben’s, squeezing gently.
Ben met John’s gaze evenly, glanced down once at their hands, then turned his over, palm up, and linked their fingers together, squeezing back. All at once, it was as though something inside had let go and settled into place. Something shifted in John’s expression, relaxing, softening.
“Yeah, I thought so,” Ben agreed.
Nothing else was said about it, though. No declarations of love, not that Ben had been expecting any, but he’d thought maybe there would be something as he’d continued visiting John every day until he was discharged.
Today, Ben stood behind John as he gingerly lowered himself into Ben’s car, hissing through his teeth and swearing as he did. Once he was in, Ben helped with the seat belt, folded the shiny walker into the back seat of the car and got in himself.
“You ok?”
“Just go, Ben,” John bit out.
“You’re white as a sheet. What did they give you for pain?” Ben asked in concern.
John shook his head. “No drugs.”
Ben looked at him sharply as he pulled away from the curb. “John, you have to have something. Tylenol, even.”
John looked at Ben, face set stubbornly, eyes hard. “No drugs, Ben.”
Knowing it would be useless to argue, Ben continued the drive back to John’s in silence.
Once in John’s driveway, they began the process of getting him out of Ben’s car. When Ben set the walker near the car door, John gave him a glare that used to have Ben withering, but now he only smiled indulgently as he waited, then carefully helped John into his house.
“Where do you want to go? Bed or couch?” Ben asked as they slowly moved into the home.
“Couch. I’ve had enough of the bed - unless you’re going to join me.”
Ben clamped his mouth shut and felt his face warm. So it was like this, was it? Wordlessly, he helped John to the couch, then to lower himself and get comfortable. He made sure John had the remote in easy reach and a glass of water.
“Do you at least want some Tylenol? No one says you have to be a hero,” Ben asked him from the kitchen.
“Ben. No. Drugs.”
“Ok,” Ben said and went back into the living room. He sat in the chair next to the couch until John was sighing at him in frustration.
“Boo, come here,” John said. “You’re not going to break me.”
Ben sat next to John and instead of watching the tv, watched him. “What are we doing?” Ben finally asked because he couldn’t stand not knowing.
“I was hoping we could figure that out together,” John answered.
“Uh uh. I don’t do that. Either we’re in our we’re out. Nothing halfway.”
John was quiet so long, Ben started to get nervous and wondered if maybe he would have been better off keeping his mouth shut. But then John grinned and his whole face lit up with it and Ben relaxed as John agreed.
“Ok.”
“OK?” Ben parroted.
“Ok.”
And because he could, Ben leaned forward, brushing his lips lightly over John’s, chuckling when John growled in frustration as Ben pulled back.
“When you’re better,” Ben promised. “We’ll have all kinds of time when you’re better.”
~ fini
