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elles_lettersRating: R (eventually)
Summary: Carlton knows it's selfish of him, but he can't help but hope that Shawn never gains his sight back. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alli_bialystock who wanted Insecure!Lassiter and a bit for myself who wanted to write something sappy and cliche.
Warning: Alternate universe. Sex in later chapters. Abuse of medical science by a journalist.
Disclaimer: Psych and all related characters are the property of USA Networks and a bunch of other people in suits. Please don't sue.
chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four
Chapter Two
Carlton freezes. "You're expecting visitors?" he asks.
"Just Gus. I've told you about him," Shawn says. "I want you to meet him."
Carlton remains silent.
"Carlton?"
"Sounds great," he finally replies. "Meeting your best friend. That sounds great."
Carlton doesn't know what type of person Shawn's friend Gus is. He could be the kindest, gentlest, warmest soul to exist since Mother Theresa's church-going grandmother. But Carlton does know this: There's no way in hell he's going to risk having someone tell Shawn the truth about him.
Another night, another bout of insomnia.
Shawn wants Carlton to meet his best friend. For anyone else, this would be nothing. A simple meeting of a friend of a friend. But for Carlton, the idea is torturous.
He's surprised he hasn't had to deal with this before. Just because Carlton has no one to visit him doesn't mean he should expect the same for Shawn. From all evidence (the flowery, sugary, Hallmark-y evidence crowding Shawn's side of the room), Shawn is a popular guy. Family, friends and girlfriends should have been dropping by on a daily basis.
He has no right to want to keep Shawn all to himself. What's more, he has no idea where this desire to keep Shawn even comes from. So what if Shawn's the only person he's opened up to in five years? So what if Shawn's behavior borders on flirting? So what if Shawn is responsible for the contentment Carlton has felt as of late? All that doesn't give him the right to be so possessive of the man.
Carlton turns his head to watch Shawn as he sleeps. He looks as peaceful as he makes Carlton feel. His chest rises and falls slowly with each deep breath he takes. His hair is tousled over the bandages covering his eyes. Carlton wonders what Shawn's eyes look like. They must be gorgeous; the rest of him sure as hell is. They probably sparkle when he talks and are bright green or bright blue or some other bright beautiful color.
He imagines those eyes looking at him. His face, still sunken and ugly, looks handsome reflected in the other man's eyes. And (because this is Carlton's dream) instead of hardening in disgust, those eyes will look at him with understanding. Warmth, even. And he'll smile and Carlton will finally allow someone to touch that side of his face. For once Carlton's face won't matter. And maybe, Shawn will look at him and tell him, "I think you're perfect."
A sharp pain in his chest reminds Carlton of why he never spent much time with fantasies. They tended to hurt more than reality.
The next morning, Carlton is groggy and his mind is out of sorts. He oversleeps, missing Shawn before the other man heads out for his therapy session.
He slogs through a breakfast of soggy corn flakes and dry toast. The quiet of the room is suffocating. Carlton wants Shawn to hurry back and start rambling about color wheels and fruit-flavored smoothies and all the other inane necessities he rambles about. Television and his sad supply of books offer no relief. He's grateful for the distraction Juliet provides when she stops by to give him his IV.
"You seem out of it today," she asks. She's in nurse-mode and Carlton knows not to try and give her any bullshit.
"I didn't sleep well last night."
She frowns before taking a hold of his chin and feeling his lymph nodes. "Were you in pain? Too hot? Too cold?"
"Nothing like that. Just had a lot to think about."
"I'll order you up some sleep meds," she replies curtly as she checks his pulse. "You're here to rest; I want to make sure you do." She gives him a reassuring smile before putting his file away. "I'll come back and check on you in a little while."
"Juliet," he calls out before she leaves the room. "Uh...Do you all need any more tests from me? I can meet any doctors you need me to around noon today."
Juliet turns to look at him, confusion in her eyes. "No. Is there anything in particular you have questions about?"
"No," Carlton says quickly. "Just wondering." Juliet gives him one final questioning look before turning to go.
"Hello, Nurse Jules," a cheery voice calls out. An orderly wheels Shawn into their room. In his lap sits a folded red-and-silver cane.
"Good morning, Shawn," Juliet greets him.
"If I bought you leather scrubs, would the hospital let you wear them?" he asks in mock seriousness.
"Goodbye, Shawn," Juliet says easily as she sails out the door.
Shawn turns to smile at Carlton. "She's fun."
"Yeah," Carlton replies listlessly.
Shawn cocks his head. "You okay?" he asks as he shoos the orderly away. Shawn is apparently not ready to be helped to his bed. "I missed you at breakfast."
"I'm just tired," Carlton replies. "I didn't sleep well last night."
"Why didn't you wake me? I would have kept you company."
"I didn't want to bother you. I've been keeping you up late enough."
"You're never a bother," Shawn says softly. "I wouldn't have minded. You've helped me get to sleep plenty of times."
"Like I said It's not a problem."
Shawn takes the note of finality in Carlton's voice as a hint and drops the subject. "Remember what I told you yesterday?" he asks, as if there was any way Carlton could forget. "About my friend visiting?"
"Yeah," Carlton replies. He hopes the hitch in his voice comes off as interest rather than anxiety.
"Well, he's coming by today and he's looking forward to meeting you."
"Sounds great." No, it really doesn't. "When's he coming?"
"Noon. We're going out to lunch."
"'Out?'"
Shawn grins. "'Out' to the hospital cafeteria. Want to join us?"
No, he really doesn't. "Sure," Carlton lies.
The grin blooms into a wide smile. "I'm glad." Shawn unfolds the cane sitting on his lap and begins to rise from the wheelchair. Carlton throws off his blankets in order to get up and assist the other man.
"That's very gentlemanly of you Carlton, but I got it." Shawn smirks as he makes his way over to Carlton.
"You heard me getting up?"
"I'm getting better at this blind thing, don't you think?"
"It would seem so."
"I've just decided to try and be more positive about things." Shawn settles himself on the edge of Carlton's bed. "Turns out, there are a few perks to this whole not-seeing thing."
"Such as?"
"I could get a dog. Not just any dog, a super dog."
"You told me you hated dogs," Carlton retorts. The topic had come up in one of their late-night discussions during which they had debated which was the more corny comic strip: Marmaduke or Garfield. (After twenty minutes, they agreed on Ziggy.)
"I hate caring for dogs. This dog would care for me. I can also touch people without permission."
"I don't think you can do that."
"Really? I'm pretty sure there's a law. That and I can wear sunglasses any time of day, indoors or out."
"That hardly sounds like it's worth being blind."
"I also got to meet you. And I guess that was worth it." Shawn says it so casually, that Carlton has no idea if the man is serious or not. Seductive and flirtatious lines slip off Shawn's lips all the time, but this one sounds different than the cheese he feeds Juliet.
"Carlton?"
"Um...yeah. I'm here," he mumbles.
Shawn grins and raises his hand for Carlton to take. Carlton grabs it and holds it between both of his. "I just want you to know how much easier you've made it for me here. I thought I'd lose my mind. I mean, I had no idea if I'd ever...If I'd ever..." Shawn's grip tightens.
"Shawn, you don't have to—"
"Yes, I do. When I came to in that ambulance, I couldn't see. I mean, I couldn't see anything. I was terrified. I've never been afraid of the dark. But after...you know...there was so much pain and so much damn noise. They shuffled me from doctor to doctor and nobody could tell me anything. Then, they put me in here with you. And you actually listened to me. Told me I'd be okay. I'll never forget that."
"Why are you telling me all this, Shawn?" Carlton whispers. What he means is What do you want from me?
Shawn gives Carlton's hand a squeeze. "Next time you can't sleep, Carly, wake me up. I promise I won't mind."
Carlton exhales slowly. "That's all?"
"For now." His free hand flutters above Carlton's face before resting tenderly on the smooth skin of his good cheek. Carlton flinches, not used to being touched so intimately, but soon relaxes into Shawn's palm.
"See? I didn't ask permission," Shawn tells him, his voice smug.
Carlton closes his eyes and mumbles, "That's okay. I don't mind."
Shawn chuckles. "I told you. Perks."
The stairwell Carlton's been sitting in is cold and in need of a new paint job, however it has great acoustics. Carlton can hear Shawn and Gus talking from their room two doors down from the stairwell entrance.
"Shawn, you just made that up."
"No, dude, it totally happened. I swear."
The plans for avoiding the meeting with the best of Shawn's friends ran the gamut from pathetically simple (pretending to sleep) to unnecessarily complex (breaking into the hospital pharmacy, stealing a few hits of something only slightly lethal, overdosing and spending a few nights in the ICU). But in the end, Carlton had decided to go with his cowardly loser plan (leaving the room when Shawn wasn't looking and hiding until Gus left). It was pitiful.
"Carlton?" Juliet's voice rings out from the top of the stairwell.
He turns and quickly shushes her. "Lower your voice," he whispers loudly. "I don't want anyone to know I'm here."
Juliet descends the stairs, stopping a step behind Carlton. "What are you doing?" she asks.
Carlton certainly can't tell her he's been eavesdropping on Shawn and his best friend for the last forty-five minutes. She'd probably recommend something insane like meeting the guy.
"I just needed some personal space," he tells her. It's true enough.
"Personal space? Sitting on these chilly stairs?"
"I'm not picky about my space."
A particularly loud chorus of laughter erupts from his room and carries down the hall. Juliet leans closer to the door and listens as an annoyed voice rings out.
"Shawn, you did not empower the geriatric unit by leading them on a carefree trip to the docks for a boat ride. That was a Simpsons episode."
"Well, we'll just have to agree to disagree."
"Shawn has company," she says to herself. "You know who it is?" she asks Carlton.
"A friend of his." Carlton answers abruptly.
"Ah," she replies. "What's he like?"
Carlton gives a shrug. "Not sure. Haven't met him." He hadn't meet him, but he did see him. Dressed in tasteful designer clothes, Gus was just a good-looking as Shawn. It was easy to see why they were such good friends. Shawn got obvious pleasure riling Gus up with his ridiculous stories and, from what Carlton could hear, Gus found it equally fun calling Shawn out on his wild claims.
"Shawn's friend came to visit him and you didn't meet him?"
"Didn't feel a need to."
"'Didn't feel a need to?' What does that mean?" He can feel Juliet staring at him and he knows he has to remain absolutely still or she'll see right through him.
"Carlton?" she repeats.
He turns his face away, moving only a few millimeters. It's enough.
"Oh, Carlton," Juliet breathes.
"Please, Juliet," he says bitterly. "I don't want to hear it."
Juliet may be cute and bubbly but Carlton knows once those cute bubbles burst, she can be as protective as a mother cat. She won't tolerate Carlton thinking so poorly of himself.
"I know what you're going to say. 'Shawn's a good guy. A real friend won't care about something so shallow. People are nicer than I think.' I've heard it all before and it's all a bunch a bullshit."
"Oh really?"
"Yes, really," Carlton's voice breaks as all the hurt he's carried for the last five years comes rushing to the surface, threatening to blow apart his fragile self-control. "People say those things just to make themselves feel better. Nobody means it."
"I mean it," Juliet says sincerely. "And Shawn might too if you give him a chance."
Carlton shakes his head. "No. It's better this way."
"Carlton, your face means you're a survivor. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
"I don't want Shawn to think of me as a 'survivor'. I want him to think I'm normal; I don't want him to view me as some sort of...of freak."
"You're not a freak," Juliet says defensively.
"I'm hardly the All-American boy, now am I?" Carlton snaps back.
Juliet is silent as she lowers herself on the step next to Carlton. "I can understand what you're going through, Carlton."
"Do you really?"
She ignores the question. "But you're being too hard on yourself. I've seen how Shawn is with you. He likes you for you. Do you think he'll stop liking you just because of your face."
"It's happened before."
This takes Juliet by surprise. "What?"
"I had friends before my face fell apart, you know," Carlton studies his hands. He can't bear to look at Juliet. He's never seen her pity-face and he wants to keep it that way. "Nobody came out and said it was because of my face. Most of them just felt too uncomfortable to be around me anymore. I don't want that, Juliet. I won't give Shawn a reason to push me away." He breathes heavily as the full force of his emotions sweeps through him. "I don't want him to hate me," he finishes, his voice catching.
Juliet waits for him to calm his breathing. When he does, she stands and leans down to give Carlton a hug.
"Please, Carlton," she whispers, "give people a chance."
She bounds up the stairs and out the door before he can respond.
"Where were you?" Shawn asks when Carlton returns to their room. His voice wavers with just the smallest amount of hurt, which causes Carlton to feel like a coward and a jackass. "Gus was here for three hours. We waited, but he had to leave and get back to work."
"Last-minute doctor's appointment," Carlton tells him, the lie coming too easily. "The doctor wanted to check my stitches and check on how I'm doing. I tried to hurry but...," he finishes lamely.
"Oh," Shawn answers. "Too bad. Gus brought peach smoothies. We had one for you but I drank it."
Carlton can't help but smile at that. "Thanks for thinking of me."
"I like thinking of you," Shawn says seriously.
Carlton wants Shawn to stop with the flattery, stop making these endearing remarks. They confuse him and make his heart hurt. He doesn't know what to make of these hints that they might be able to be something more than hospital roommates.
"Carlton?" he hears Shawn ask.
"Yeah?"
"When are you leaving?"
"The hospital? If things go well, I'll only have to be here three more weeks."
"So soon?"
"Is something wrong?"
"I was just thinking about our missed lunch. You kinda owe me. Maybe once we get out of here, you, me and Gus could try and meet up sometime."
"I don't know..."
"Okay," Shawn replies, undaunted. "How about just you and me?"
Carlton's mouth goes dry. You and me. Shawn and him. That could be possible. Possible, if he could keep Shawn from wanting to go out in public or from introducing him to anymore of his friends. So actually, it's not possible at all. "I…can't."
Shawn face falls. "Why not?"
Why not? Why not? Carlton needs a why not.
Because I'm married. Too presumptuous
Because I'm swamped with work. Too flimsy.
"Because I'm…moving. Away. Far away. To Washington D.C. To work in the National Gallery of Art." Carlton is becoming extremely disgusted with his new found comfort with lying to people's faces.
"Washington D.C.?" Shawn's voice sounds doubtful, but without his sight he can't pick up enough clues to determine whether Carlton's telling the truth. Carlton has never been more grateful for the bandages covering Shawn's eyes than at that moment.
"I got a fellowship—well, me and a couple other guys from the museum—to assist with the acquisition of new pieces. It'll be for about a year...or longer. It could be permanent. I'm not really sure yet."
"Oh," Shawn replies softly. "When are you leaving?"
"Immediately. Right after I get out of here. Like that week."
"That's too bad."
"Yeah," Carlton says past the lump in his throat. "Too bad."
"I had a surprise for you."
That catches Carlton off-guard. "A surprise? What kind of surprise?"
Shawn beams at him with happiness. There's only one thing that could make him smile that bright.
"The doctor stopped by while Gus was here," Shawn says excitedly. Carlton doesn't remember hearing that; it must have happened during his talk with Juliet. "He said the tests show that I'm healing better than they expected and he doesn't think anything's been damaged permanently. And guess what?"
"What?" Carlton asks, but he already knows "what." He already knows he's going to hate what Shawn has to say next.
"He says I'm going to be able to see again, Carlton. I'm getting my sight back."
TBC...
A/N: Grad school is a bitch! It's been four weeks since the first chapter and for that, I apologize. I've left my job, moved back home and started school. Add that I'm spending most of this time writing school papers and cover letters, and it's no wonder I've been neglecting this story. On a positive note, I'm pretty confident that the next two chapters will go up quicker. I have a much more vivid idea of how I want the ending to go than what I had for this middle part.
Sorry there's not much action in this chapter. For some reason, this chapter was a real struggle for me. I've been in the mood for something fluffy and gooey so that's what I wrote, but everything just felt awkward. I'm still concerned about the pacing; hope they aren't moving to fast for you guys (but then again, I hope you're not bored, either). Thanks for reading, guys. Your feedback is what motivates me!
Summary: Carlton knows it's selfish of him, but he can't help but hope that Shawn never gains his sight back. For
alli_bialystock who wanted Insecure!Lassiter and a bit for myself who wanted to write something sappy and cliche.
Warning: Alternate universe. Sex in later chapters. Abuse of medical science by a journalist.
Disclaimer: Psych and all related characters are the property of USA Networks and a bunch of other people in suits. Please don't sue.
chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four
Chapter Two
Carlton freezes. "You're expecting visitors?" he asks.
"Just Gus. I've told you about him," Shawn says. "I want you to meet him."
Carlton remains silent.
"Carlton?"
"Sounds great," he finally replies. "Meeting your best friend. That sounds great."
Carlton doesn't know what type of person Shawn's friend Gus is. He could be the kindest, gentlest, warmest soul to exist since Mother Theresa's church-going grandmother. But Carlton does know this: There's no way in hell he's going to risk having someone tell Shawn the truth about him.
Another night, another bout of insomnia.
Shawn wants Carlton to meet his best friend. For anyone else, this would be nothing. A simple meeting of a friend of a friend. But for Carlton, the idea is torturous.
He's surprised he hasn't had to deal with this before. Just because Carlton has no one to visit him doesn't mean he should expect the same for Shawn. From all evidence (the flowery, sugary, Hallmark-y evidence crowding Shawn's side of the room), Shawn is a popular guy. Family, friends and girlfriends should have been dropping by on a daily basis.
He has no right to want to keep Shawn all to himself. What's more, he has no idea where this desire to keep Shawn even comes from. So what if Shawn's the only person he's opened up to in five years? So what if Shawn's behavior borders on flirting? So what if Shawn is responsible for the contentment Carlton has felt as of late? All that doesn't give him the right to be so possessive of the man.
Carlton turns his head to watch Shawn as he sleeps. He looks as peaceful as he makes Carlton feel. His chest rises and falls slowly with each deep breath he takes. His hair is tousled over the bandages covering his eyes. Carlton wonders what Shawn's eyes look like. They must be gorgeous; the rest of him sure as hell is. They probably sparkle when he talks and are bright green or bright blue or some other bright beautiful color.
He imagines those eyes looking at him. His face, still sunken and ugly, looks handsome reflected in the other man's eyes. And (because this is Carlton's dream) instead of hardening in disgust, those eyes will look at him with understanding. Warmth, even. And he'll smile and Carlton will finally allow someone to touch that side of his face. For once Carlton's face won't matter. And maybe, Shawn will look at him and tell him, "I think you're perfect."
A sharp pain in his chest reminds Carlton of why he never spent much time with fantasies. They tended to hurt more than reality.
The next morning, Carlton is groggy and his mind is out of sorts. He oversleeps, missing Shawn before the other man heads out for his therapy session.
He slogs through a breakfast of soggy corn flakes and dry toast. The quiet of the room is suffocating. Carlton wants Shawn to hurry back and start rambling about color wheels and fruit-flavored smoothies and all the other inane necessities he rambles about. Television and his sad supply of books offer no relief. He's grateful for the distraction Juliet provides when she stops by to give him his IV.
"You seem out of it today," she asks. She's in nurse-mode and Carlton knows not to try and give her any bullshit.
"I didn't sleep well last night."
She frowns before taking a hold of his chin and feeling his lymph nodes. "Were you in pain? Too hot? Too cold?"
"Nothing like that. Just had a lot to think about."
"I'll order you up some sleep meds," she replies curtly as she checks his pulse. "You're here to rest; I want to make sure you do." She gives him a reassuring smile before putting his file away. "I'll come back and check on you in a little while."
"Juliet," he calls out before she leaves the room. "Uh...Do you all need any more tests from me? I can meet any doctors you need me to around noon today."
Juliet turns to look at him, confusion in her eyes. "No. Is there anything in particular you have questions about?"
"No," Carlton says quickly. "Just wondering." Juliet gives him one final questioning look before turning to go.
"Hello, Nurse Jules," a cheery voice calls out. An orderly wheels Shawn into their room. In his lap sits a folded red-and-silver cane.
"Good morning, Shawn," Juliet greets him.
"If I bought you leather scrubs, would the hospital let you wear them?" he asks in mock seriousness.
"Goodbye, Shawn," Juliet says easily as she sails out the door.
Shawn turns to smile at Carlton. "She's fun."
"Yeah," Carlton replies listlessly.
Shawn cocks his head. "You okay?" he asks as he shoos the orderly away. Shawn is apparently not ready to be helped to his bed. "I missed you at breakfast."
"I'm just tired," Carlton replies. "I didn't sleep well last night."
"Why didn't you wake me? I would have kept you company."
"I didn't want to bother you. I've been keeping you up late enough."
"You're never a bother," Shawn says softly. "I wouldn't have minded. You've helped me get to sleep plenty of times."
"Like I said It's not a problem."
Shawn takes the note of finality in Carlton's voice as a hint and drops the subject. "Remember what I told you yesterday?" he asks, as if there was any way Carlton could forget. "About my friend visiting?"
"Yeah," Carlton replies. He hopes the hitch in his voice comes off as interest rather than anxiety.
"Well, he's coming by today and he's looking forward to meeting you."
"Sounds great." No, it really doesn't. "When's he coming?"
"Noon. We're going out to lunch."
"'Out?'"
Shawn grins. "'Out' to the hospital cafeteria. Want to join us?"
No, he really doesn't. "Sure," Carlton lies.
The grin blooms into a wide smile. "I'm glad." Shawn unfolds the cane sitting on his lap and begins to rise from the wheelchair. Carlton throws off his blankets in order to get up and assist the other man.
"That's very gentlemanly of you Carlton, but I got it." Shawn smirks as he makes his way over to Carlton.
"You heard me getting up?"
"I'm getting better at this blind thing, don't you think?"
"It would seem so."
"I've just decided to try and be more positive about things." Shawn settles himself on the edge of Carlton's bed. "Turns out, there are a few perks to this whole not-seeing thing."
"Such as?"
"I could get a dog. Not just any dog, a super dog."
"You told me you hated dogs," Carlton retorts. The topic had come up in one of their late-night discussions during which they had debated which was the more corny comic strip: Marmaduke or Garfield. (After twenty minutes, they agreed on Ziggy.)
"I hate caring for dogs. This dog would care for me. I can also touch people without permission."
"I don't think you can do that."
"Really? I'm pretty sure there's a law. That and I can wear sunglasses any time of day, indoors or out."
"That hardly sounds like it's worth being blind."
"I also got to meet you. And I guess that was worth it." Shawn says it so casually, that Carlton has no idea if the man is serious or not. Seductive and flirtatious lines slip off Shawn's lips all the time, but this one sounds different than the cheese he feeds Juliet.
"Carlton?"
"Um...yeah. I'm here," he mumbles.
Shawn grins and raises his hand for Carlton to take. Carlton grabs it and holds it between both of his. "I just want you to know how much easier you've made it for me here. I thought I'd lose my mind. I mean, I had no idea if I'd ever...If I'd ever..." Shawn's grip tightens.
"Shawn, you don't have to—"
"Yes, I do. When I came to in that ambulance, I couldn't see. I mean, I couldn't see anything. I was terrified. I've never been afraid of the dark. But after...you know...there was so much pain and so much damn noise. They shuffled me from doctor to doctor and nobody could tell me anything. Then, they put me in here with you. And you actually listened to me. Told me I'd be okay. I'll never forget that."
"Why are you telling me all this, Shawn?" Carlton whispers. What he means is What do you want from me?
Shawn gives Carlton's hand a squeeze. "Next time you can't sleep, Carly, wake me up. I promise I won't mind."
Carlton exhales slowly. "That's all?"
"For now." His free hand flutters above Carlton's face before resting tenderly on the smooth skin of his good cheek. Carlton flinches, not used to being touched so intimately, but soon relaxes into Shawn's palm.
"See? I didn't ask permission," Shawn tells him, his voice smug.
Carlton closes his eyes and mumbles, "That's okay. I don't mind."
Shawn chuckles. "I told you. Perks."
The stairwell Carlton's been sitting in is cold and in need of a new paint job, however it has great acoustics. Carlton can hear Shawn and Gus talking from their room two doors down from the stairwell entrance.
"Shawn, you just made that up."
"No, dude, it totally happened. I swear."
The plans for avoiding the meeting with the best of Shawn's friends ran the gamut from pathetically simple (pretending to sleep) to unnecessarily complex (breaking into the hospital pharmacy, stealing a few hits of something only slightly lethal, overdosing and spending a few nights in the ICU). But in the end, Carlton had decided to go with his cowardly loser plan (leaving the room when Shawn wasn't looking and hiding until Gus left). It was pitiful.
"Carlton?" Juliet's voice rings out from the top of the stairwell.
He turns and quickly shushes her. "Lower your voice," he whispers loudly. "I don't want anyone to know I'm here."
Juliet descends the stairs, stopping a step behind Carlton. "What are you doing?" she asks.
Carlton certainly can't tell her he's been eavesdropping on Shawn and his best friend for the last forty-five minutes. She'd probably recommend something insane like meeting the guy.
"I just needed some personal space," he tells her. It's true enough.
"Personal space? Sitting on these chilly stairs?"
"I'm not picky about my space."
A particularly loud chorus of laughter erupts from his room and carries down the hall. Juliet leans closer to the door and listens as an annoyed voice rings out.
"Shawn, you did not empower the geriatric unit by leading them on a carefree trip to the docks for a boat ride. That was a Simpsons episode."
"Well, we'll just have to agree to disagree."
"Shawn has company," she says to herself. "You know who it is?" she asks Carlton.
"A friend of his." Carlton answers abruptly.
"Ah," she replies. "What's he like?"
Carlton gives a shrug. "Not sure. Haven't met him." He hadn't meet him, but he did see him. Dressed in tasteful designer clothes, Gus was just a good-looking as Shawn. It was easy to see why they were such good friends. Shawn got obvious pleasure riling Gus up with his ridiculous stories and, from what Carlton could hear, Gus found it equally fun calling Shawn out on his wild claims.
"Shawn's friend came to visit him and you didn't meet him?"
"Didn't feel a need to."
"'Didn't feel a need to?' What does that mean?" He can feel Juliet staring at him and he knows he has to remain absolutely still or she'll see right through him.
"Carlton?" she repeats.
He turns his face away, moving only a few millimeters. It's enough.
"Oh, Carlton," Juliet breathes.
"Please, Juliet," he says bitterly. "I don't want to hear it."
Juliet may be cute and bubbly but Carlton knows once those cute bubbles burst, she can be as protective as a mother cat. She won't tolerate Carlton thinking so poorly of himself.
"I know what you're going to say. 'Shawn's a good guy. A real friend won't care about something so shallow. People are nicer than I think.' I've heard it all before and it's all a bunch a bullshit."
"Oh really?"
"Yes, really," Carlton's voice breaks as all the hurt he's carried for the last five years comes rushing to the surface, threatening to blow apart his fragile self-control. "People say those things just to make themselves feel better. Nobody means it."
"I mean it," Juliet says sincerely. "And Shawn might too if you give him a chance."
Carlton shakes his head. "No. It's better this way."
"Carlton, your face means you're a survivor. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
"I don't want Shawn to think of me as a 'survivor'. I want him to think I'm normal; I don't want him to view me as some sort of...of freak."
"You're not a freak," Juliet says defensively.
"I'm hardly the All-American boy, now am I?" Carlton snaps back.
Juliet is silent as she lowers herself on the step next to Carlton. "I can understand what you're going through, Carlton."
"Do you really?"
She ignores the question. "But you're being too hard on yourself. I've seen how Shawn is with you. He likes you for you. Do you think he'll stop liking you just because of your face."
"It's happened before."
This takes Juliet by surprise. "What?"
"I had friends before my face fell apart, you know," Carlton studies his hands. He can't bear to look at Juliet. He's never seen her pity-face and he wants to keep it that way. "Nobody came out and said it was because of my face. Most of them just felt too uncomfortable to be around me anymore. I don't want that, Juliet. I won't give Shawn a reason to push me away." He breathes heavily as the full force of his emotions sweeps through him. "I don't want him to hate me," he finishes, his voice catching.
Juliet waits for him to calm his breathing. When he does, she stands and leans down to give Carlton a hug.
"Please, Carlton," she whispers, "give people a chance."
She bounds up the stairs and out the door before he can respond.
"Where were you?" Shawn asks when Carlton returns to their room. His voice wavers with just the smallest amount of hurt, which causes Carlton to feel like a coward and a jackass. "Gus was here for three hours. We waited, but he had to leave and get back to work."
"Last-minute doctor's appointment," Carlton tells him, the lie coming too easily. "The doctor wanted to check my stitches and check on how I'm doing. I tried to hurry but...," he finishes lamely.
"Oh," Shawn answers. "Too bad. Gus brought peach smoothies. We had one for you but I drank it."
Carlton can't help but smile at that. "Thanks for thinking of me."
"I like thinking of you," Shawn says seriously.
Carlton wants Shawn to stop with the flattery, stop making these endearing remarks. They confuse him and make his heart hurt. He doesn't know what to make of these hints that they might be able to be something more than hospital roommates.
"Carlton?" he hears Shawn ask.
"Yeah?"
"When are you leaving?"
"The hospital? If things go well, I'll only have to be here three more weeks."
"So soon?"
"Is something wrong?"
"I was just thinking about our missed lunch. You kinda owe me. Maybe once we get out of here, you, me and Gus could try and meet up sometime."
"I don't know..."
"Okay," Shawn replies, undaunted. "How about just you and me?"
Carlton's mouth goes dry. You and me. Shawn and him. That could be possible. Possible, if he could keep Shawn from wanting to go out in public or from introducing him to anymore of his friends. So actually, it's not possible at all. "I…can't."
Shawn face falls. "Why not?"
Why not? Why not? Carlton needs a why not.
Because I'm married. Too presumptuous
Because I'm swamped with work. Too flimsy.
"Because I'm…moving. Away. Far away. To Washington D.C. To work in the National Gallery of Art." Carlton is becoming extremely disgusted with his new found comfort with lying to people's faces.
"Washington D.C.?" Shawn's voice sounds doubtful, but without his sight he can't pick up enough clues to determine whether Carlton's telling the truth. Carlton has never been more grateful for the bandages covering Shawn's eyes than at that moment.
"I got a fellowship—well, me and a couple other guys from the museum—to assist with the acquisition of new pieces. It'll be for about a year...or longer. It could be permanent. I'm not really sure yet."
"Oh," Shawn replies softly. "When are you leaving?"
"Immediately. Right after I get out of here. Like that week."
"That's too bad."
"Yeah," Carlton says past the lump in his throat. "Too bad."
"I had a surprise for you."
That catches Carlton off-guard. "A surprise? What kind of surprise?"
Shawn beams at him with happiness. There's only one thing that could make him smile that bright.
"The doctor stopped by while Gus was here," Shawn says excitedly. Carlton doesn't remember hearing that; it must have happened during his talk with Juliet. "He said the tests show that I'm healing better than they expected and he doesn't think anything's been damaged permanently. And guess what?"
"What?" Carlton asks, but he already knows "what." He already knows he's going to hate what Shawn has to say next.
"He says I'm going to be able to see again, Carlton. I'm getting my sight back."
TBC...
A/N: Grad school is a bitch! It's been four weeks since the first chapter and for that, I apologize. I've left my job, moved back home and started school. Add that I'm spending most of this time writing school papers and cover letters, and it's no wonder I've been neglecting this story. On a positive note, I'm pretty confident that the next two chapters will go up quicker. I have a much more vivid idea of how I want the ending to go than what I had for this middle part.
Sorry there's not much action in this chapter. For some reason, this chapter was a real struggle for me. I've been in the mood for something fluffy and gooey so that's what I wrote, but everything just felt awkward. I'm still concerned about the pacing; hope they aren't moving to fast for you guys (but then again, I hope you're not bored, either). Thanks for reading, guys. Your feedback is what motivates me!
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Date: 2011-02-21 07:31 pm (UTC)I also love how even though it's AU, all the characters are so very much themselves, despite living such different lives.
I'm really looking forward to the continuation.
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Date: 2011-02-22 07:51 pm (UTC)I've been sick for four days now and this has been the best thing that's happened to me during that whole time.
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Date: 2011-02-27 01:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-27 01:39 am (UTC)As for the characterization, I wanted to keep the story in-universe but there was no way I could do it. So I just went "screw it" and made it AU. =D
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Date: 2011-02-22 06:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-27 01:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-22 07:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-27 01:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-23 11:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-27 01:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-14 05:58 am (UTC)Anyway, I've enjoyed reading this and I hope there is something new soon (?). Of course, at your own pace. I know what college is like and, ack.
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Date: 2011-03-21 01:03 am (UTC)I'm nearing an update soon; hopefully, within the week. I've had a lot of papers/projects due that drain the life out of me, but things should settle down soon.
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Date: 2011-03-24 08:14 am (UTC)You better give Carlie his happy end :(
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Date: 2011-03-27 04:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-27 05:37 am (UTC)Oh gosh, you have me hooked now! You can't believe HAPPY I was when I read that the 3rd chapter is there :)
I'm gonna read it now! sappy and cliche! yay!
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Date: 2011-03-27 05:43 am (UTC)...
...
Ummm...please don't hate me.
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Date: 2011-03-27 05:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-27 06:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-27 10:00 pm (UTC)how long do you plan to keep me waiting for the final part? :D