Work Text:
He calls her at exactly 3:46am.
She isn't sleeping anyway. She hasn't slept properly for weeks, not since she gave her best friend a glass of drain cleaner and helped shoot two of her classmates. Not since she shot JD and left him to bleed out fifteen feet away from a bomb.
School is starting to get better. The whole school hasn't suddenly decided to become best friends, but the constant bullying has stopped. It's calmer.
It's kind of nice.
So naturally, the superficial calm that's settled over her life is interrupted at a quarter to four in the morning by her phone ringing. She yanks it towards er quickly, careful not to disturb her parents.
"Hello?"
She's greeted by a whimper, then the sound of someone breathing heavily into the phone. She's about to peg it as a prank call when someone speaks.
"Veronica?"
"Who is this?" she sits up and leans against her headboard.
"I'm... offended." They cough violently. "Thought you'd r-recognize my voice."
"Bad connection. Hey, are you okay?"
"You tell me. You're the one who did this to me."
"This isn't fucking funny. Who are you?"
There's another fit of violent coughing, followed by another whimper.
"JD."
"JD is dead. I'm hanging up."
"No, Veronica," he coughs again. "Please. I need your help. I promise I'll l-leave you alone if you just... one thing. I just need one thing."
The connection is bad, but she can tell that whoever is on the other line, JD or not, is crying. And however unlikely it is that he's alive, he does sound a lot like JD.
"What do you want?" she asks, carefully.
"Look, I'm... I'm not gonna last much longer, so it's inevitable. You really fucked me up. I n-need to make everything stop."
"Damn it, if you ask me to bring you drugs–"
"No." he says firmly. "I want you to bring me a gun. It hurts so fucking much, Veronica. I can't stand this much longer."
"I'm not letting you shoot yourself."
"You shoot me, then."
"Don't you fucking–"
"You've done it before. Just come see me, okay? You can make up your mind then."
She glances at the clock, which tells her that it's 3:54. A little over two hours until she has to get up.
"Alright," she says quietly. "Where are you?"
"School. I'm in the supply closet... next to the lab. Mr. Peterson or some shit. Do you know it?"
"I'll be right there. You'd better be fucking serious, JD."
He coughs wetly.
"Deadly serious."
"Very funny." She hangs up the phone and reaches to rub her temples, before swinging her legs over the side of the bed and moving to get ready for the day. She figures she isn't coming home after this, because the situation seems like the type to take up a lot of time, even without JD's stubbornness.
Once she's finished getting dressed and smeared lip gloss over her lips, she drags her school bag out from underneath her bed and sits back. She doesn't have the gun anymore – she'd left that in the boiler room when she dragged the bomb into the football field. She didn't even consider going to get it. She'd let enough people die for one lifetime.
She leans down and peers underneath her bed. Just before she'd started school this year, her grandmother, ecstatic about her excellent grades and completely certain she would grow up to be a doctor, had given her a first aid kit complete with a set of surgical tools. She'd stuffed it underneath her bed, sure she would never have any use for it.
Finally spotting it, she reaches to pull it out, her hand bumping something soft and light. Veronica examines both items with a yawn. She puts the first into her backpack and, with hesitation, adds the second a moment later.
She stands up and walks to scribble a quick note to her parents – at school early to talk to teacher, love you – before swinging her bag over her shoulder and quietly running down the stairs.
*
She finds him easily enough, hidden behind a trash can in the supply closet next to the lab. He doesn't notice her when she walks in. She doesn't blame him. He's lying on his back with his arms over his face, clearly trying to steady his breathing. His face is pale, and his entire body is trembling. As she approaches him, he starts coughing, and the action makes his body jerk with every cough.
Not really thinking about exactly what she's doing, she moves to kneel next to him, pulling him into a sitting position and rubbing his back. His eyes widen when he sees her.
"Veronica?" he stutters, going limp as soon as he stops coughing. She helps him lie down again, wishing it didn't hurt so damn much to see him like this. "Y-you came."
"I did say I was going to."
"You took a while. I thought you'd changed your mind."
"I had to get ready. And you didn't ask for something that's easy to find."
"So you brought the gun?" he looks almost hopeful, lying on the floor of a supply closet with a bullet in his gut. She can't imagine how the idea of suicide is appealing to him – but then, JD is crazy. She'd have to be crazy too to understand his logic.
"Better." she reaches into her bag and pulls out the teddy bear she'd found under her bed. JD studies it with confusion.
"But... what?"
"Thought you could use a friend," she jokes, handing it to him. He turns it over and looks up at her tearfully.
"I'd get blood all over it."
"That's fine. You can keep it."
"For the next five or so minutes," he mutters. "You did actually bring the gun, right?"
"Yeah," she lies. "But I'm not letting you shoot yourself until you talk to me."
"As long as I can do it eventually," he says, shaking with the effort to pull himself into a sitting position. She rolls her eyes and pushes him back down, noticing his slight gasp of pain as she touches his shoulder.
"Why should I even do this?"
"Well I figure... you want me dead as much as I want me dead. So, really, it's a win-win situation."
"I don't want you dead."
"You're crazy, then."
"I'm not the crazy one, Jason Dean."
He fixes her with a frown.
"Ouch. Full name. I'm just saying, I kind of deserve to die."
"Shut the fuck up."
"Yep."
He crosses his arms over his chest, pinning the bear to his torso. Just as he'd predicted, blood was soaking into the white teddy bear's back legs.
"How are you still alive?"
"I don't know. I woke up in the middle of the football field, you were nowhere to be seen, and the bomb was about to go off."
"So you ran away?"
"I tried to crawl towards it, but I went the wrong way. Next thing I know I'm flying across the football field."
"Where did you go?"
"My house. My dad... was angry. About the TV. He wouldn't let me inside, so I spent the night in the shed. Then I came here and kind of... slept."
"For three days?"
"I don't know. Everything is fuzzy." he swallows hard. "What else?"
She sighs, glancing at her bag and back to JD. She'd read somewhere that you were supposed to keep wounds elevated, and JD seemed to be fading more and more as the conversation went on. Veronica crosses her legs and lifts JD's torso so that his head and chest are in her lap.
"Why do you want to die like this?" she asks, as she tries to get comfortable.
"What do you mean?"
"Why do you want to die in a high school at four in the morning with a bullet in your gut and in your head? Why the fuck would you want to die like that?"
"I..."
"Your whole life has been a big fucking mess, JD. Your mom killed herself and left you with your crazy dad, who clearly hits you all the time, don't try to lie to me. You never stay in the same place, so you don't have anywhere to call home. And your girlfriend shot you. So why the hell are you letting your shitshow of a life end in such a fucked up way?"
She stops when she realizes that JD is crying. He'd been crying before, but now he's outright sobbing, gasping for breath in her lap. Suddenly feeling guilty, she reaches down and strokes his hair out of his face.
"Don't you get it?" he asks. "That's why I need to do this. I fucked up, and nobody is going to fucking miss me."
"I'd miss you," she says, surprising herself. JD scoffs, which turns into some sort of cough mixed with a whimper.
"Oh, save it for the fucking press, Veronica."
"What?"
"Can't you s-see the headlines?" he wipes his eyes with his bloody hands, leaving red trails down his cheeks. "“Teenager found dead in high school lab... “I miss him so much already,” girlfriend cries.” God, you're just like my dad."
"I'm not like your dad," she scolds, sending JD into a fit of teary laughter that leads to more coughing. She sighs and checks her watch. 4:50.
"I don't even need a gun. You'll laugh yourself to death."
"Hilarious," he says sarcastically. He's wiping at his eyes again, and the blood rubbing onto his checks is making him look like some sort of comic book villain.
He's got the psycho thing down, at least.
She strokes his forehead again, not sure how to help him and not knowing why she wants to. He leans into her when he finishes, mumbling something that she can't understand.
"What was that?"
"Water," she manages to make out.
"Right. I'll get that." she pulls her bag closer to her and pulls out her thermos, helping JD drink it without sitting up. He manages a grin in thanks, closing his eyes.
"JD," she says quietly. He raises an eyebrow, not opening his eyes. "I didn't bring the gun."
He laughs. She expects it to be manic, but he just sounds downright miserable. He's still crying, and she realizes numbly that JD needs to save his breath. She puts a finger to his lips, but he just shakes her off. So she leans down and presses a kiss to his lips. That shuts him up.
"What was that for?"
"You weren't shutting up."
He makes a noise in response that she's sure wasn't actually meant to be a word as much as some form of reply. She tilts her head.
"Heather Chandler and Kurt and Ram could have all killed themselves," she says. "Maybe Kurt and Ram actually were gay. Who knows?"
"What are you doing?"
"You said you wanted to die. This is your punishment. You're going to come with me to the hospital and you're going to get better and you're going to get some real help. Okay?"
"Veronica–"
"You didn't actually blow up the school, so you'll just be watched for a while. You'll tell them why I shot you because I was trying to stop you from hurting a lot of people and technically you attacked me. You're going to tell somebody about your dad. You're going to get better, JD. Alright?"
JD stares at her for a moment, and she's afraid he's going to try to argue with her. Instead, he starts crying again.
"Alright," he mumbles. "I'll – I'll get help. Not that it's going to work."
"That's a start," she says, sighing. "Let's get that bullet out."
"What?" his eyes widen.
"That bullet probably already gave you some sort of infection. I'm going to take it out."
"Do you know how?"
"It's not hard. I saw someone do it once." she moves him out of her lap. He winces, grabbing at her hand.
"I brought you a bear for a reason," she tells him, pulling the first aid kit out of her bag. JD scowls and picks up the bear.
"Which was?"
"This is going to hurt like a bitch."
She selects the tweezers from the first aid kit and looks JD over. He's taken off his trenchcoat somehow, and she can see it discarded on the floor on the other side of the room. His shirt will clearly have to go, but she knows the motion of taking it off will hurt him.
She grabs the scissors from the kit and moves to cut the shirt away, but JD stops her.
"Can you... walk me through what you're doing? Please?"
"I'm cutting your shirt off," she tells him, rolling her eyes.
"Oh."
It takes her longer than she thought it would, because his blood has dried and the material of the shirt is stuck to his skin. The bullet wound is disgusting – she hates seeing it, hates knowing that she did it. It didn't matter how messed up of a person JD is. She just hates knowing she hurt someone.
Once his shirt is thrown in the same general direction of his jacket, Veronica finds a roll of paper towels and a flashlight and sets to work cleaning the wound, doing her best to ignore JD's whimpers. It doesn't take long.
"You doing okay?" she asks. She's already thoroughly disgusted, and can't imagine what JD must be feeling.
"I– fuck." his hands are in fists, one still clenched around the teddy bear. "Are you almost done?"
"I'm about to start."
He groans, turning his head to the side.
"Try... talking to me. That might distract you."
JD frowns at the suggestion, not even bothering to give her a response.
"How did you call me?"
"Cell phone." he points to the ground near his hand, where the silver and blue phone was lying. She reaches out to press her fingers to the wound. He gasps.
"Try not to move, okay?"
"...Yeah," he agrees. He swallows hard. Slowly, Veronica uses her fingers to spread the skin around the wound. JD coughs slightly, whimpering.
Slowly, she takes the tweezers and holds them over JD's stomach, trying not to look at his face.
"I'm going to pull it out now."
"Okay," he says weakly.
She turns the flashlight on and pins it to her shoulder with her cheek, then leans closer to JD's stomach and spreads the wound slightly more. Ignoring the pained noises JD is making, she presses down on the wound so that blood runs over his stomach and slides the tweezers into the wound.
She tries her best to find the bullet without really thinking about exactly what she's doing, but she's hit with reality when JD starts coughing again. She pulls the tweezers away quickly, thoughts of accidentally hurting him even more making her swallow hard.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes when he's done.
She just nods and gets back to work. When she finally feels something small and round, she does her best to grab it slowly and pull it out.
"Finished," she says faintly. When JD doesn't respond, she turns the flashlight onto his face. He's gone limp, head fallen to the side.
"JD?"
He doesn't even stir. She sighs and picks up the cell phone on the floor next to him.
"911, what is your emergency?"
*
Of all things, it's the carpet that's annoying her the most.
There are many things that could be annoying her right now. Her skirt doesn't quite fit, and it's digging into her waist ruthlessly. She has the voices of Heather Chandler, Ram Sweeney, and Kurt Kelly arguing in her ear. She's used to that by now, but it doesn't stop the headache forming behind her eyes.
But no, the ugly yellow colour of the carpet is driving her crazy. She's grateful when the nurse comes to get her, leading her down the painfully happy hallway.
"Is he your boyfriend?" the nurse asks, in an attempt to make conversation.
"It's complicated."
"Oh. I see." The nurse stops next to the door. "You can go right in."
Veronica smiles at the nurse and glances at the door warily. It had been almost a week since she'd found JD lying in the supply closet at school and had the hospital pick him up. No matter how many times she was questioned, they never told her how he was doing. Until today, when she'd been called unexpectedly and told that JD wanted to say goodbye before he was sent away.
Taking a deep breath, she twists the handle and pushes the door open. JD is lying in the hospital bed, his arms crossed over his chest. He's paler than usual, but the bags that are normally under his eyes have faded slightly. He looks up when she walks in, his face brightening considerably.
"You came."
She nods, glancing around the room. There are tubes coming out of both of his wrists. She notices the teddy bear, now permanently stained, sitting on the table next to him.
"You kept that?"
"Not really my choice, but... yeah. It's kind of endearing, don't you think?"
"Kind of morbid," she agrees.
"Well. If you look at it that way." she expects him to give her his signature smirk, but he sighs instead.
"They're putting me in an institution."
"I know." She says simply. JD frowns.
"That's it?"
"No." she walks closer and sits down in the chair next to him. "I– it's good. You're getting help."
He scoffs, and she notices his red-rimmed eyes. She sighs.
"I don't really know what to say. I'm happy for you?"
"I get it." he tilts his head back, staring up at the ceiling. "And just when I was starting to like it here."
"You're only going away for a month, and you'll be two towns over. You can come back."
"Do you want me to come back?"
"Since when do you do anything because someone else wants you to?"
He shrugs.
"I would leave if you told me to."
"That... endearing, I guess," she says. "I think you should come back. If you want to."
"I don't know. Maybe."
He almost smiles at her.
"I did love you, you know."
"I know." she almost smiles back. They sit like that for a moment, and then Veronica stands.
"I have to go. I have dinner with my grandparents." she laughs. "Maybe I can tell my grandmother that I finally found a use for her first aid kit."
"That'll be a great story."
She leans down and kisses his forehead. He manages a smile.
"I loved you, too."
And then she leaves him staring after her without another word.