"Caroline, you up? We have to go!"
The sound of Bob yelling outside my door caused me to fly up in a panic. A quick glance at the clock on my nightstand told me I had only been napping for about an hour. Penny needed me to help with some repairs early this morning, so when I made it home late in the afternoon, I had crashed.
I threw my legs over the side of the bed and rushed to open my bedroom door. Bob is across the hall in Nat's room, frantically pulling on his boots.
"What's going on?" I ask him, my heart still beating wildly in my chest from the sudden wake up call.
"The rehab center just called. Something is up with Hangman. They said they want to sit us down to discuss it. Not sure what it is, but they sound concerned, figured you need to be there for something like this." He stands up then turns to look at something in the room. Nat appears then pulling on a blue Navy hoodie.
"You don't have to come if you don't want too," Nat says, providing me an out. I can't take it though. I'm half awake and my only concern now is Jake.
I turn back into my rooming. Not even caring that Bob is in the hallway, I strip myself of my jean shorts and work shirt and start hastily looking for something more comfortable.
When I finally manage to find a pair of leggings and an old t-shirt, I turn back around to see that Bob and Nat have made their way downstairs.
"Ready?" Nat asks as she grabs her keys and wallet from the counter. I say nothing as I follow them out the door and into her car.
It had been nearly three weeks now since I've last seen Jake. Bob, Javy, and even Bradley had become the ones checking in on him regularly. They tried in the beginning to provide updates, but after refusing to hear them, they stopped. Each update hurt too bad to hear. Jake had made his choice, the only thing I could do now was respect it and keep my distance. He needed to focus on getting better, me being there only complicated things. Judging from the looks Bob gave when he would come home at the end of the day, things weren't going well. Now we were rushing to the rehab center. I don't know why I had agreed. But Bob had been the one to see Jake almost every day, he was the one aware of his condition, not me. He would only ask me to come if it was serious. My need to make sure Jake was okay overriding the logical part of me that knew this was a bad idea.
Nat drove quickly until we reached the facility. It was nearing closing, so the parking lot was fairly empty. She threw the car into the closest spot to the door.
Once inside, Bob led us straight to the front desk. I stayed back a few steps, uncertain on if I was wanted or even welcome to be here.
"We're here for Lieutenant Seresin, we got a call that something was wrong." Bob wastes no time telling the older lady behind the front desk. She nods then begins checking something on her computer. Before she can open her mouth to say anything, another voice cuts her off.
"Did you all say you are here for Lieutenant Seresin?"
A woman, in her mid fifties, starts striding over towards us. Her fully grey hair is neatly tied back into a bun behind her head. She's wearing a nice blue button down that accompanies the black slacks and clacking heels as she strides over to us. Her face, while pleasant, suggests she knows she's in charge. She extends her hand out to Bob first.
"My name is Dr. Cameron, I'm the psychiatrist in charge of Lieutenant Seresin's case."
Bob gives her a quick handshake, then she moves on to Nat and I.
"I'd like a word with all of you if you don't mind?"
After Nat and I look to each other nervously, Bob once again takes control.
"Okay."
"Good, you can all follow me."
She turns and heads down a small hallway. We all follow behind. She takes us down what appears to be a row of offices before stopping at one. Her name is printed on a plaque that hangs above the door. She uses a key to swiftly unlock the room and push it open. Before entering she turns back to make sure we have all followed behind.
"Take a seat." She orders while walking further into the room, allowing all of us space to file in.
Her office is one large room that looks like she has strategically split in two. Right when you walk in, there is two large, plush sofas facing each other. Along with a coffee table to separate them with various magazines, books, notepads, and pens. On the other side of the room is a large L- shaped desk. There doesn't appear to be a thing out of place on it. Behind her desk is a row of neatly labeled filing cabinets. She is clearly the type of person who values order.
Bob, Nat, and I all play it safe and select one of the large sofas to sit on together. Nat sits between Bob and I, and the second we are seated, Bob gives her knee a reassuring squeeze.
Dr. Cameron busies herself for a second with a Manila folder at her desk, before crossing the room back towards us, paper in hand. She takes a seat on the opposite couch.
"I apologize for being so cryptic on the phone to whomever I spoke with. I did not want to cause any alarm."
"Then what's going on with Hangman? What is all this?" Nat asks.
"We'll that's what I was hoping to discuss with all of you. You three have been listed on Lieutenant Seresin's visitors list, along with a stray few others. And I believe, Caroline is it?" She asks looking towards me. I nod. "You have been listed as his emergency contact, as well as you Robert." She says turning to Bob.
"It's just Bob," he clarifies. She nods, but seems slightly annoyed by his interruption.
"Well, because you two are his main contacts as of now. I'd like to take this opportunity to discuss his progress, or lack thereof."
I know once upon a time I had been listed as his emergency contact. I had assumed once he entered here though and wished me to leave him alone, he would have changed it. An icy cold feeling settles over me and I wrap my arms around my chest.
"So Jake initially started off making great progress. He responded well to therapy and to the staff. He even managed to regain feeling in his lower torso. Because of that he's been able to preform normal bodily functions independently now. Normally this would be a great confidence booster, however for him, it's only declined his mood."
I feel Nat's eyes to turn look at me, but I don't meet them. All I can do is stare down at an empty notepad on the coffee table.
"He has refused all pain medication, all food, and now refuses to attend his mandatory appointments. Now all this being said, it's nothing too unusual with individuals who have undergone the type of trauma he has. Most will typically protest help and fall into a deep depression. It's difficult to manage, but we try our hardest to get them to talk. Some are able to work through it in a few weeks, some take months. There is no exact time table here."
I can feel my hands start to shake slightly, nausea overtaking my senses. I force myself to take a breath in. This wasn't the conversation I had expected coming in here. I hadn't received an update on Jake in a weeks for fear of this, now here I am in his therapist office as she tells me how horrible he's been. The guilt hits me like a truck.
"However, I'm concerned about a lack of support system for Jake."
At that, all of our heads fly up in unison.
"Lack of a support system?" Bob asks. "What do you mean? I'm here everyday I can after work."
"I understand that, and I believe it helps. I mean no offense to you when I say this, but I feel as though he needs someone he has a genuine connection with."
At her words, Nat and Bob turn to look at me unconsciously. Dr. Cameron follows their line of sight. It takes a minute before she is able to put two and two together.
"Would that person be someone like you?" She asks me. I don't respond, I don't even turn to look at her. I just continue staring down at the notepad. Thankfully, Nat speaks for me.
"They are sort of dating," she says awkwardly, not sure of her word choice. "They dated for a year a while ago, then broke up. Before the mission they sort of rekindled what they had. She's been by his side since we all made it back to the states. When he was transferred here though he told her to leave. Said he didn't want her here."
I appreciate that she only offers the crash course version of Jake and I's relationship. She wouldn't have gone into detail unless I had given her permission anyway.
"I understand. Situations like these aren't easy. It's difficult to see the person you love in such a state. However, it's situations like these in which we need to stick by them most."
My anger was rising the more I had to listen to this lady speak. Who was she to try and judge Jake and I's relationship when she has no clue about any of it? She was right, situations like this aren't easy, but I hadn't chose to leave because it was hard to see him. I could tell Nat was sensing some of my frustration, so she took over speaking for me again.
"They've been through a lot. He wanted her to leave, she said okay. It's been three weeks now since they've seen each other. What makes you think bringing her back into the equation will help anything? All you are going to be doing is adding more stress and hurt to both of them." Nat defends. She must be just as frustrated with the doctor as I am.
"That's not my intention at all. I think I may be approaching this from the wrong angle," Dr. Cameron says cleaning her throat. "I'm not trying to insinuate that no one has been there for Jake. I only mean to say that I think a closer relationship, someone to push him a bit that he cares about, would help him tremendously. I know that's much easier said then done. And from the sound of it, your relationship has been rocky. I'm not asking you to do anything that you aren't comfortable with. Just that maybe you could sit down with him a bit, try and get him talking. Lieutenant Seresin has completely shut down since arriving here. If this continues further then he'll be readmitted back to the hospital. Doing that would only reset any progress he's already made. Now I know he has no relatives, so you all are the closest thing he has."
She stops speaking now, giving us time to process her words. I'm ready to refute them though. I know Jake doesn't want to see me, he made it clear I was no longer welcomed. I just don't understand how me trying to get back in his life would help any. Would he even want that? I highly doubt it. Plus what if I did go see him and started to help him again, only for him to discover it was at the request of his therapist and not because I wanted too? I think it would crush us both all over again.
"I'll do it." I say with finality despite my thoughts protesting. Nat, once again, whips her head to the side to look at me.
"Care you don't have to do that."
"I know, but he doesn't deserve to suffer anymore. He needs to get better and get back to flying. But I'm not doing it because you suggested it." I tell Dr. Cameron. "He can't ever find out that the reason I'm back trying to help again is because you came to us. It'll destroy him." And me. "He needs to think it was because I wanted too" I did want too, but I don't think I would have ever built the courage up to come back. This meeting had offered me a reason too, but I don't think Jake would ever see it that way.
"Of course. Thank you Caroline. I truly think it will help in his recovery."
She barely gets the last word out before I'm standing up, "I need to go see him."
She gives me a look, then holds up her hands to signal for me to stop. "Now wait a minute, I don't want you to go charging in there."
"With all do respect, I know Jake more then anyone in this room. If you want him to get better, then I need to do things my way. I'll help, but I'm not following any of your little plans." She has frustrated me enough. I wasn't going to let her try and dictate a plan that I would be forced to follow. If she wanted my help then I was going to help, but I was going to do it my way, Jake's way.
She gives me a scowl, but in the end, she's lowers her hands in a surrender. She has a job to do, I know that, but I know Jake. Seeing him isn't going to be easy, but maybe it's time I moved on from everything. He and I may not make a good couple, but maybe we can be friends. Friends help each other. It seemed an easier way to approach this for now.
Without saying a word, I turn and stride out of the room. I follow the path she led us down originally until I'm back in the lobby. From there I take the hallway to the empty common room where I know Jake's door is at. It's finally in view, but once I'm in front of it, I freeze again. To many times since he's returned, I've frozen in front of his door. I never know what Jake will be on the other side. This time though, I can't allow myself to freeze. Friends helping friends, I remind myself.
I lift my hand and knock lightly on the wood door. No answer sounds from the other side, but through the small, fogged window on the door, I can see a light on. I push the door open as gently as possible. However the door betrays me and squeaks loudly as it struggles to swing open.
It takes my eyes a few minutes to adjust to the low light in the room coming from a singular lamp. Once it does however, I take in the familiar area. I had only seen it briefly once, but everything still appears the same. Even down to Jake sitting in a wheelchair, facing the window.
"I said I don't want anything for dinner," he attempts to yell with a raspy voice. His body rejects the action and causes him to start a violent coughing fit.
It feels surreal to see him now. Although he hasn't turned to face me yet, I can already tell he's different. His back brace has been removed. His hair is longer then I've ever seen it. The dim light from the setting sun coming in from the window shows the full face of hair he's growing.
"Jake," I half whisper. I'm surprised he even hears me, but he does. His hands grab the wheels of his chair as he spins himself around. When his eyes meet mine, my stomach drops once again. That's when I truly get to see how horrible he's become.
He's lost a considerable amount of weight. Though the beard helps to mask it, there is no hiding the concave of his cheeks which had once been full. Or the way his large, broad shoulders have shrunken down significantly. He's losing weight and muscle fast. How long had it been since he had anything to eat? Why hadn't they admitted him a long time ago and forced a tube down his throat? I'm going to kill his psychiatrist. Who lets their patient get this bad?
His face turns cold, "what are you doing here?"
It takes me a minute to find my words, but I try my hardest to conceal the surprise on my face. "I wanted to see you."
"Well, here I am." He gestures out with his arms, allowing me to see how bony they seem now. To anyone else they may appear to be an average male's arms, but not Jake. Jake is large and toned, this looks like a skeleton of his formal self.
"Here you are," I repeat, too distracted by the state of his body. He seems to sense I've been staring for too long and grabs the wheels to turn himself around. "Wait," I call to him, taking a half step forward. My hand reaching out as if I could halt him with my mind. He stops, but doesn't release his grip from the wheels. He watches me, waiting to hear what I'm going to say. I swallow, my mouth suddenly turning dry. I had nothing to say to him. I don't know why I told him to stop. So I say the only thing that comes to my mind.
"Will you go on a walk with me?" It's stupid, I know, but I don't know what else to ask.
He's still not moving as he stares at me. Those green eyes so sunken in, I can hardly see them. For some reason though, I can see his face soften ever so slightly. The cold mask momentarily pulled back, but not removed. "Okay."
I let out a breath in slight relief. I had no back up plan if he said no, I didn't even have a plan if he said yes. I'm not even sure why he had agreed so easily.
"I think you should probably lead the way then. I don't know my way around here." I take a step back towards the wall, leaving the entrance to the door open.
He pushes the wheels now, moving the chair forward until he's wheeled himself right in front of me. His eyes remain forward on the open doorway ahead, but I can't take mine off him. It looks like he's going to say something, but he seems to think better of it, and pushes himself out the door.
I force myself to suck in another shaky breath before following him out.
He leads me out into the common area and over towards a door I hadn't noticed before. He stops just before it. I watch him, not quite sure why he stopped.
"You're going to have to open it." He tells me, his voice deadpanned.
"Right, sorry." I rush forward to swing the large glass door open, holding it until he's wheeled himself outside. He makes no effort to wait for me, and starts rolling down a path. I jog a few steps after him.
We keep heading down the selected path until we reach a small pond. There's a little fountain in the middle spraying water up. A small swarm of ducks swim around freely. The sun is beginning to set behind the buildings, painting the sky in various shades of blue and orange. It's peaceful out here, I can understand why he choose it. Besides a few stray people walking about, it's relatively private. Can't help but wonder how often he comes to this spot.
He moves until he's beside a bench, putting his chair into a position right next to it. I take the subtle hint and move to take a seat, making sure to leave space between us.
For a few moments, neither of us say anything. We just stare at the ducks as they drift idly in the water. The silence around us isn't a comfortable one. It's awkward. It's been nearly three weeks since we had last seen each other. Nearly a month had passed and neither of us had even so much as reached out. I think it was obvious that we both didn't really wish to contact the other. At least not now. Maybe it would have changed later on. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part.
Surprisingly, it's Jake who breaks the silence.
"How have you been?" He asks, awkwardly.
"Okay I guess. You?"
"Fine."
The silence stretches on again.
"What are you doing here Blake?" He asks suddenly. I wince at the words, guess the pleasantries are over already. I didn't have a good answer for him. He can't know that I'm here because his therapist asked me too. Truthfully I had been wanting to find a reason to see him again, but that's not an answer he'd accept if he found out the truth of why I've come.
"I don't know," I say. "Guess I just wanted to see how you were doing."
He nods. "Well as you can see I'm doing great, so feel free to report back to everyone."
"Jake-"
"No seriously Care. What are you doing here? Because last I remember you wanted me to leave you alone, so I did."
I whip around to face him
"You think I wanted you to leave me alone? Jake you treated me like shit. I tried my hardest to be by your side and give you whatever you wanted. It nearly destroyed me walking away from you that day!" I'm yelling now, but I don't care. My frustration and hurt is to great to hold back any longer. If he's wanting to get this out now, then we would get it all out.
"You really think I didn't want you there?" He asks, his voice coming out far calmer then expected. "I was horrible to you, I know. But the way I saw it, you didn't need to be shackled to a guy like me. What kind of life am I supposed to offer you when I can't even get out of this damn chair?" He hits the wheels to emphasize his point. "When you walked out, it nearly killed me, but it was too selfish of me to call you back. You need to move on and live your life. You need to forget about me." He stops to look down at his legs, one hand coming to rub at his knee. "I have zero feeling still. Each day that passes my chances of recovery decreases significantly. This isn't the life I wanted to give you. I can't keep you here so you can take care of me forever."
He pauses once again and looks back out to the pond. I can't take my eyes off of him. All the words he's saying; I never expected any of if. I had assumed this whole time that he hated me. That maybe I had smothered him too much and he could no longer stand it. Never would I have guessed that he pushed me away so he couldn't be selfish in keeping me. Leave it to Jake to find the most twisted way to break up with someone. Looking at our history though, he was good at pushing people away to spare everyone the heartbreak but his own. He knew what he was doing. He knew he was going to lose me and never get me back, yet he let me go anyway. So that I might have a chance at a normal life. Maybe meet another guy, fall in love, and live happily. All so I didn't have to face the reality of helping him forever.
I had told the therapist in her office that I knew Jake better then anyone, but maybe that wasn't completely true.
"You think I could be happy any other way?" I ask him. He glances to me briefly, his eyes full of regret, before looking back down at his lap. "Do you really think, I wouldn't take any life with you I could get? Because if so the you don't know me as well as you think you do Jake Seresin."
He reaches up to use his thumb and index finger to wipe at his eyes.
"I can't subject you to this kind of life. You deserve better. You deserve someone who you can go walk down the beach with, not someone who you'll need to help move into bed each night.
"Can you stop assuming you know what I want or deserve? Because I'll tell you what I deserve, I deserve you. I deserve all of the love and care that you used to offer me. You're fucked up Jake, both inside and out, we both know it. But we also both know that you deserve so much better then you think. You run when things get too good, it's how you've always been. You ran when we had a serious relationship a year ago. You ran when you left for the mission, thinking you'd never see me again." I slide across the bench until I'm directly next to him now. I reach forward and grab hold of his bony arm, squeezing lightly. The physical contact feels strange after these few weeks. "Just stop running please. Stop making it so difficult for me to love you when you don't have too. Just let me be here and help you and take care of you." I'm begging now, more tears threatening to fall. "I'll take you, any way I can get you. If that means stuck in this chair the rest of your life then so be it. We'll figure it out. But you have to stop making it difficult. I know some days are going to be better then others, but I just need you to try and stick the bad days out with me, for me." Tears fall down my face now and land on his arm. He lifts his head to finally meet my eyes. "Please just tell me you'll let me help you."
He doesn't answer. Instead, he maneuvers his chair until he's in front of me, reaches forward to take my arms, and in one swift move, he pulls me off the bench and into his lap. His arms may appear smaller, but they clearly haven't lost their strength. I yelp out in surprise, but his mouth crashing against mine cuts me off. His arms snake around my waist to hold me in place as his tongue demands access into my mouth. I'm so shocked by everything that I quickly open my mouth to let him. He's greedy as he deepens the kiss, running his hands up and down my back, then lower to grab hold of my butt.
All logic goes out the window, and all I can do is focus on him. I know this probably isn't healthy to our relationship, but I don't care. There isn't anyone else for me but Jake. I bring my hands up to his hair and grab hold of it tightly. His beard tickles my face as he continues to devour my mouth. I let him take the lead as our tongues crash together, missing the taste of one another.
Eventually we pull apart, both of us breathing heavily. Our foreheads stay pressed together as we stare at each other.
"Does that mean yes?" I ask. He smiles, for what I can only assume is the first time in a long time.
"Yes," he says, then pulls me in for another long kiss.
When we break apart again, my attention snaps back to reality. I'm currently straddling him, in his wheelchair, in a veterans rehabilitation facility. The sun has fully set now and we are seated directly underneath a lamp post, highlighting us to anyone that walks by.
"Oh my god am I hurting you?" I ask, prepared to fly off of him. He grabs my waist with a firm grip.
"No," his voice is rough again, but not from yelling, from arousal.
I move to slide off his lap anyway, but suddenly feel something hard against my butt. I can't help but start laughing. He's completely caught off guard by my sudden outburst.
"I'm sorry," I say between giggles. "Just glad to know that still works." He gives me a quizzical look for a second, before letting his own head fall back in laughter.
"Thank god it does," he says after collecting himself. He finally loosens his grip and allows me to slide off.
I stand on uneasy legs and do my best to smooth down my shirt.
"I didn't expect this conversation to end like this." I tell him honestly. How this conversation had escalated so quickly was beyond me. It felt like we had only been out here for a few minutes. Maybe we had been, but I guess we both knew what we needed. Separation or not, Jake and I still craved each other, no matter how much we tried to convince ourselves we didn't.
"I never expected to see you again. Figured I'd only have Bob taking care of me the rest of my time here, and he's no fun to look at."
He's joking again, it makes my heart swell. I didn't think I'd ever hear him joking again. Right now, despite the chair, he's Jake. Just Jake. How one conversation had changed everything, I had no idea. I wasn't going to complain though. He was allowing me back in his life, and I was allowing him back into mine. Truthfully these past three weeks I wanted nothing more then to see him, or receive updates on him. I had asked everyone to refrain from telling me because it had hurt to bad. Knowing how he was doing while I couldn't be there nearly killed me. I understand now though. He was doing what he assumed was best case for everyone. Communication had never been his strong suit. Jake just refused to accept the fact that people care. He's learning, slowly, and that's all I could ask for. So much for coming in with a "friends helping friends" mindset.
"Why don't we go back in and get something to eat?" I ask him. "Hungry?"
"Starving."
YOU ARE READING
The Altruistic Pilot: A Jake Seresin TopGun fan fiction
Fanfiction"Altruism is the term you use for a self sacrificing person. Someone who would lay down their life if it meant that others had a chance at living. I'd say that description fit Jake pretty well. He always came across as an asshole, but deep down, the...
