"Ow! Ow, ow, ow! HURTS! Jack! Nonono, don't, don't, not the syringe, not the syringe, don't, OW!"
Jack sighed. I don't believe this.
He was used to whiny patients. Annoying patients. Cranky patients even! But Shawn Spencer? He definitely took the cake. What was he saying, the whole pastry shop!
True, the motorcycle accident hadn't been just scratches and bruises but still, Jack couldn't help but admire the never ending energy of this guy. Even after an operation, painkillers, giving a statement to the police, more painkillers and long fights about whether to call his dad this guy still seemed to be unable to simply shut up and rest.
"So when can I go?"
Jack's eyebrows shot up and couldn't suppress the small snort. "Go? You broke your leg, Shawn. 'Going' isn't exactly on your schedule for a while."
Shawn pulled a face at that, pouting like a five-year-old. "It's not that bad."
"You see, if you were any other patient I'd agree to that. But since it's you? Trust me. It is that bad."
"So I have to spend Christmas here?"
Jack paused and blinked. Well, shit. Hadn't considered that before, have you, Dr. Shephard. How to get out of this one now? "Well, uh..."
Shawn just looked at him for a moment, then let his head fall back into the cushion and groaned. "Say no more."
Jack scratched the back of his head. "Do you want me to contact..."
"No. That's alright."
"Shawn, if you're going to spend Christmas here you should..."
"It's alright. I'll call Gus."
It's alright, he'd said and Jack had believed him because that's what Shawn appeared to be, a guy who was just alright. Nothing seemed to throw him off, nothing seemed to stop him from dancing on top of the world. Within two days he was the head comedian of the whole station and his room became the new entertainment stage. At some point the nurses had given up on shooing the other patients outside because somehow Shawn managed to get them back in again and again, like an oversized magnet.
Especially the kids loved to hang around him, all the girls developing puberty crushes and the boys listening to his stories about battling Amazon boas and Canadian grizzlies. Jack was amazed by the way he lit up the kid's hospital holidays while all their friends were outside playing in the snow.
It was the same positive energy that had convinced Jack that it's alright, that it really was alright.
He had stopped asking about Henry the very first day, seeing something guarded and troubled there, something that reminded him too much of his own relationship with his dad and felt that it might be better to leave it untouched. Besides, Shawn had talked to his friend, Guster, who was also a contact in case of emergency. So it was alright.
Which was why, on Christmas Eve, he just wanted to drop by for a short moment and wish him a good night before heading home.
He was just about to reach the door of his room and already heard that Shawn was doing what apparently he was best at - talking. Given the fact that it was getting late he was probably on the phone.
"... oh yeah, Gus, it's awesome! Nothing like European Christmas!"
1/2
Jack sighed. I don't believe this.
He was used to whiny patients. Annoying patients. Cranky patients even! But Shawn Spencer? He definitely took the cake. What was he saying, the whole pastry shop!
True, the motorcycle accident hadn't been just scratches and bruises but still, Jack couldn't help but admire the never ending energy of this guy. Even after an operation, painkillers, giving a statement to the police, more painkillers and long fights about whether to call his dad this guy still seemed to be unable to simply shut up and rest.
"So when can I go?"
Jack's eyebrows shot up and couldn't suppress the small snort. "Go? You broke your leg, Shawn. 'Going' isn't exactly on your schedule for a while."
Shawn pulled a face at that, pouting like a five-year-old. "It's not that bad."
"You see, if you were any other patient I'd agree to that. But since it's you? Trust me. It is that bad."
"So I have to spend Christmas here?"
Jack paused and blinked. Well, shit. Hadn't considered that before, have you, Dr. Shephard. How to get out of this one now? "Well, uh..."
Shawn just looked at him for a moment, then let his head fall back into the cushion and groaned. "Say no more."
Jack scratched the back of his head. "Do you want me to contact..."
"No. That's alright."
"Shawn, if you're going to spend Christmas here you should..."
"It's alright. I'll call Gus."
It's alright, he'd said and Jack had believed him because that's what Shawn appeared to be, a guy who was just alright. Nothing seemed to throw him off, nothing seemed to stop him from dancing on top of the world. Within two days he was the head comedian of the whole station and his room became the new entertainment stage. At some point the nurses had given up on shooing the other patients outside because somehow Shawn managed to get them back in again and again, like an oversized magnet.
Especially the kids loved to hang around him, all the girls developing puberty crushes and the boys listening to his stories about battling Amazon boas and Canadian grizzlies. Jack was amazed by the way he lit up the kid's hospital holidays while all their friends were outside playing in the snow.
It was the same positive energy that had convinced Jack that it's alright, that it really was alright.
He had stopped asking about Henry the very first day, seeing something guarded and troubled there, something that reminded him too much of his own relationship with his dad and felt that it might be better to leave it untouched. Besides, Shawn had talked to his friend, Guster, who was also a contact in case of emergency. So it was alright.
Which was why, on Christmas Eve, he just wanted to drop by for a short moment and wish him a good night before heading home.
He was just about to reach the door of his room and already heard that Shawn was doing what apparently he was best at - talking. Given the fact that it was getting late he was probably on the phone.
"... oh yeah, Gus, it's awesome! Nothing like European Christmas!"
Jack froze in midstep.