Patching Up
Thanks to the painkillers, the agony that consumed Colin's face had for the most part faded to a dull ache. Morphine combined with lack of sleep and the excitement of the past few hours, however, made walking and functioning a difficult task. As Colin wobbled out to the emergency room waiting area on the arm of a nurse, Eamon and Jared rose to their feet.
Eamon winced, and Colin figured it probably looked as bad as it felt. Jared was stony and crossed his arms over his chest, looking at Colin as if he had a few choice words for him, which would undoubtedly be delivered at the first opportunity.
The nurse released Colin into his brother's care, Eamon taking his arm to steady him.
“Is it broken?” Eamon was looking at the bandage across the bridge of Colin's nose.
“They don't know,” Colin said, his voice muffled and thick since his nose was currently packed with gauze. His lips were swollen too, making it difficult to speak clearly. “They said it's going to be really swollen for a few days, and they won't be able to tell for sure until the swelling goes down.” He moaned, touching his fingers to his forehead. “I have to come back in two days.”
Jared, whose jaw couldn't have been any tighter, unfolded his arms and shifted from one foot to the other. In a barely-controlled voice he said, “I'll call Oliver in the morning and tell him what's happened. In the meantime, we better think up a fucking story to give him.”
“I told the doctors I got in a fight,” Colin wobbled, his vision going in and out of focus. “God.” He touched his forehead again.
“Well, you'll have plenty of time to come up with something while you're cleaning the blood off the front seat of my car so I don't have to pay for damages,” Jared said, entirely unsympathetic despite his role in the fiasco.
“Tonight we're just gonna think about getting him to a bed,” Eamon said sternly. He shot Jared a dark look, and Jared raised an eyebrow. “We'll go find a hotel.”
“Oh, wasn't that my suggestion hours ago?” Colin said, then winced. Self-righteousness was not beneficial to his face.
“That's all well and good for you Eamon,” Jared said. “You're not the one about to lose your job, after all.”
“I am more concerned about my brother's health right now! Quit acting like a harpy.”
The shock on Jared's face would have been amusing if Colin was able to find anything funny at the moment. “Did you just call me a harpy?”
“No, I said you were acting like a harpy.”
“Guys,” Colin groaned.
“Let's get him to a hotel,” Eamon said, returning his attention to Colin.
“I'll take him in my car,” Jared said sharply. “You can drive ahead of us and find a place.”
“Why don't I just take him and you go back to the resort?” Eamon glared at Jared.
“Because,” Jared gave Eamon a tight little smile. “After all the fucking commotion you two caused, I'm sure I'm about to be thrown out of the resort. So, whatever story we come up with better take that into account. Of course, Oliver would probably enjoy the truth. He'll probably have you banned from the production for your participation in it, Eamon.”
Colin winced at the arguing and groaned again, louder this time. Eamon squeezed his shoulder. “It's all right Colin. We'll get you to bed.”
“God, I hate both of you so much right now.” Colin said.
“Gee, I know how that feels.” Jared gave them both a pointed look, then turned on his heel and stalked toward the doors.
Jared had brought Colin to the hospital, because his car was the closest at hand and Colin thought he was dying. Eamon had gone with them to where his car was parked, Jared barely even coming to a full stop to let him out. The way they'd torn out of there, leaving blood all over the hut, security at the resort had probably thought there was a murder and contacted the police by now. Looking up who was renting the hut and discovering the production Jared was working on would be easy enough. In fact, Colin figured Oliver would be calling them before sunrise.
Driving through the quiet, pre-dawn streets of Saraburi, Colin sat with his head reclining on the back of his seat. Blood still occasionally trickled down the back of his throat, making him cough, which was sheer agony. He thought about the bottle of painkillers in his pocket that he'd been allotted and wondered if he would feel better if he just took the whole damn thing.
“Jared,” Colin said groggily.
Jared glanced over at him. His hands were stiff on the wheel, lips in a tight line. Eamon was driving ahead of them.
“You're not going to puke, are you? Like I need more of a mess in here.”
“No,” Colin picked his head up from the seat, closing his eyes against the sharp pains it caused. It felt like his entire face was swollen, none of it moving properly when he spoke. “I'm sorry. I should tell you why I did it. See, I—”
“I know,” Jared cut him off. “I already know. Eamon told me everything in the waiting room.”
“Oh.” Silence fell. Colin was ready to just tumble forward and pass out After a time he spoke again, more to keep himself awake than anything else. “Jared, I—”
“Just shut up.” Jared said. “Just be quiet until we get to the hotel. You don't need to be talking in the state you're in anyway.”
Eamon found them a place off one of the main streets, not exactly the Ritz, but Colin didn't care. He just wanted a bed. They parked in front of it and Eamon got out, coming around to Jared's side of the car. Jared put down the window.
“You want me to get us three rooms?” He asked, looking across at Colin worriedly.
“No,” Jared's voice was still cool and aloof. “He needs someone to stay with him tonight. Just get two.”
Eamon went in to get their rooms. Colin drew a deep sigh, it feeling strange to have his nose completely blocked off.
“I don't deserve your kindness,” he said, wishing he could speak clearer.
Jared looked over at him with an ironic smirk. “You haven't gotten much of it tonight either, have you?”
Colin looked at him wearily, but managed a small smile. “I've had worse.”
“Kinda hard to believe at the moment though, isn't it?”
There was once again a brief argument in the hallway outside their rooms. Jared was propping Colin up now.
“I'll share his room with him,” Jared said. “You've done enough.”
“He's my brother!” Eamon was belligerent. “I think you've done enough!”
“Guys,” Colin winced. “I just want a fucking bed.”
Jared looked Colin in the eyes. Jared's eyes were blurry in front of his, smudges of blue on white. “We'll let Colin decide.” He said tersely. Colin knew at once what he was doing, taking him right back to that table two nights ago. “Do you want me or Eamon to share your room with you?”
Colin didn't know how to answer. He looked warily at Eamon, who was standing behind Jared. Eamon made a subtle pointing gesture at Jared.
“You,” Colin said, closing his eyes against the pain, which was coming back. “I want you.” Something deep inside told him that it was the right choice, with or without Eamon's insistence.
“All right then,” Eamon said. “Call my room in the morning when we know what's going on.”
Morning wasn't that far away, and as Jared got Colin out of his bloody clothes and into one of the beds in their room, the first tint of dawn was coloring the sky outside the window.
“Jared, I'm sorry,” Colin said weakly, as Jared piled pillows up behind him to keep his head elevated. Jared made him lie back on them.
“Save it for the morning.” His voice was still tense, but a bit softer.
“It is morning,” Colin murmured, glancing toward the window.
Jared sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. Colin gazed over at him. He wasn't completely in focus, but blurry or not, Colin realized he was really, really glad to see him sitting there.
“Why did you do it?” Jared sounded exasperated, but genuinely curious too. “Why did you go crawling in my fucking window in the middle of the night?”
“Eamon said it would be romantic.” Colin felt a little better lying down. The blankets were warm and he was teetering on the edge of sleep.
“Did you think it would be romantic? I mean, what did you plan to do when you got in there?”
“Tell you I was sorry,” he mumbled.
“You could have called and told me you were sorry.”
“Wanted to hold you,” he whispered, starting to drift. He wasn't even sure he really said it, in fact. He must have slipped off, because the next thing he remembered was feeling lips brush across his forehead and Jared's voice whispering above him.
“I'll go back and get my things in a few hours and assess the damage. Go to sleep…I'll stay with you for awhile.”
Colin drifted off then, thinking he felt Jared's hand on his cheek, but it might have been a dream. Darkness came, the pain was gone.
****
When Colin opened his eyes, the light coming through the window was not morning sunlight. Early afternoon, maybe. He turned his head, and immediately wished he hadn't.
His face felt stiff, his lips swollen. His eyes didn't seem to want to open all the way. He instinctively tried to snort out the thickness in his nose, but it of course didn't work. He was still lying on his back. His throat was filled with a thick substance and he coughed, groaned at the pain it caused, and tried to swallow it.
“Spit it out.” Jared appeared above him. He was wearing a robe, his hair damp on his shoulders. In one hand he had a clear plastic cup of water, in the other a wad of tissues. He sat the cup down on the stand next to the bed and pulled Colin into a sitting position. His vision swum at the wave of pain that went through his head, then he started coughing again.
Jared held the tissues under his mouth while he coughed up the nastiness in his throat. It was a gooey, blood-tinted mucus, and he thought he was going to puke bringing it up. He didn't though, and Jared gave him the cup of water when he was finished.
“God,” Colin's voice was gravelly, but he could actually speak a bit clearer, though the muffled sound was still there from his nose being packed. “What fucking time is it?”
“Just after one.” Jared threw the tissues away and put the cup on the stand. Colin looked around the room, his vision a little less blurry than the night before.
Jared's suitcases and duffel bag were now sitting in a chair by the window. The other bed in the room had been slept in. Colin's pills were sitting on the stand next to the water—Colin vaguely remembered waking up at one point and Jared giving him some. He wanted more now.
“You didn't have to be my nursemaid,” Colin said.
“Don't tell me what I don't have to be.” He went into the bathroom, where the light was on. Colin could see the mirror from his bed and Jared bent over, then stood up and tossed several towels over the shower curtain rod.
“What's going on back at the resort?” Colin looked over at Jared's suitcases. He couldn't speak very loudly, so he hoped he heard him. “Has Oliver called?”
Jared came out of the bathroom, pushing his wet hair off his shoulder. “I went back this morning, and it turns out someone did report a disturbance. However, we were gone by the time security came around and they didn't go into my hut.” He snorted. “Thank God, because there was blood all over the floor. I told them there was a fight and I paid for the damages, told them I'd leave right away. Your brother…” He went over to the vanity and picked up a piece of paper, waving it. It looked like a check. “Paid me back for it.”
He walked over to the bed, standing over Colin and looking down at the check.
“However.” He looked at Colin, then started ripping it up. “I'm not going to cash it. Because his heart was in the right place, even if his head was clearly not.”
Colin watched him silently. Jared tore it up into tiny squares, then tossed them in the wastebasket beneath the stand.
“What about Oliver?” Colin asked.
“I called him this morning.” Jared crossed his arms. “I told him you and I got in a fight and you were in pretty bad shape.”
Colin's eyes widened, as much as they could. “You didn't have to implicate yourself.”
“Why not? I did do it.”
“Is he pissed?” Colin gently touched his face, over the bandage. “Christ, I can't imagine I'll be able to shoot anytime soon.”
“He's not singing show tunes, I can tell you that much. He says he wants to see you first though, before he makes any decisions.”
“God,” Colin groaned.
“You want something to eat? Eamon says he'll go get us something.”
“Yes,” Colin winced and pushed the blankets off him. “I want some painkillers to eat. After I take a piss.”
He managed to get himself up and wobble to the bathroom, just in his shorts, his equilibrium quite off. In the bathroom, he stood in front of the mirror and stared in horror.
He couldn't see his nose with the bandage over it of course, but under his eyes was deep purple and mottled red, and his lips were indeed swollen, as were his cheeks. He had been involved in some fights before that left him looking shoddy, and this certainly ranked up there with the best of them.
Jared served him two painkillers before he crawled back in bed. “This gauze has to come out today,” Colin touched his nose gently. “They said to pull it out and see if there was any drainage. If there is, I have to go back.”
“That's gonna hurt like hell.” Jared got him all settled in and tucked up again.
“I know,” Colin sighed. “So let's leave it in for awhile.”
Jared sat down on the edge of the bed, staring off into the room, and they were quiet for a few minutes.
“Is your car a huge mess?” Colin finally asked. “I couldn't really tell in the dark last night. Plus I couldn't see and all.”
“Eamon cleaned it out.” Jared looked around at him. “It took him awhile, but I think he got all the evidence. I've decided to forgive him.”
“Yeah?” Colin spoke softly. “And me? What do I need to do to earn your forgiveness?”
Jared looked away again, giving a harsh laugh. “I think I've pretty much paid you back for every rotten thing you've ever done to me. Or at least most of them. Maybe another whack to the face in a couple of days will square us up.”
Colin tried to chuckle, but it just caused pain. He winced, rolling his head on the pillow and looking toward the window.
“Why did you come to Saraburi last night?” Jared asked, not accusingly, his voice just soft. “Why did you tell Eamon about us?”
Colin rolled his head back, gazing at him. “I missed you.”
“That covers the Saraburi part. What about Eamon?”
Colin didn't immediately answer. He was silent, collecting his thoughts, which were more coherent than they had been in weeks. An overwhelming bout of physical pain had been more cleansing than tears.
“I trust him,” Colin knew the best thing now was to be honest. “I had to tell someone. It was eating me up.”
“Why was it eating you up?” Jared looked down and shrugged a shoulder. “Because you were messing around with a guy? Because it made you feel guilty, less like a man?”
“No,” Colin said quickly, then spoke softly. “It's not those things. Not anymore.”
Jared looked up at him, their eyes meeting and locking for a long moment, then he looked down again. “What is it, then?”
Colin sighed. “Jared, when this movie is over, who knows what we'll do, where we'll go, if we'll even see each other again. That's how this business is. It's a fact of life. People come into your little world for a few months, then they're gone. That's being an actor. But you were right about something…” He swallowed, the back of his throat still raw from the coughing fit. “I need to enjoy it while it lasts.”
Jared looked up at him, his hair starting to dry and hanging in thick waves around his face. He studied Colin for a moment. “Are you just saying that because you're full of Demerol right now and I pulverized your face last night?”
“No,” Colin shook his head slowly against the pillow, smiling. “I want you to understand something though,” he grew serious again. “I'm not gonna take you on walks in the park and cuddle on benches and pose for pictures with you.”
“I never asked you for those things,” Jared said softly, but firmly. “How many times have I told you I don't want that?”
“I know. But I don't want you to think I'm being a selfish bastard. I'm not Eamon. I can't flaunt it in front of the whole world. And whatever fucked up way of thinking has led to that, I'm sorry. But it's me. It's who am, and you can take it or leave it.”
Jared shook his head, as if he was tired of hearing the same old song. “Colin, I've never asked you for that.”
“So what do you want?” Colin reached down, seeking out his hand. He found his fingertips and brushed his own against them. “You tell me all the time what you don't want. But you never tell me what you want.”
A little smile tugged at Jared's lips. “I want this,” he said softly. “I want these times, when you're honest. I want the times behind closed doors when you're just Colin, not Colin Farrell the actor and all-around bad boy. That's not the man I care about anyway.”
“I think I can give you that.”
“Time will tell.” Jared slid his hand forward and put it over Colin's.
“Does this mean I'm forgiven?” Colin turned his hand over and entwined his fingers with Jared's. “Does this mean we're good?”
Jared smiled again, eyelashes fluttering. “It means I'll take it under consideration.”
“That's a start.”
“Right now though, you better get some more rest.” He squeezed Colin's hand. “You'll want to be rested up when we pull that gauze out.”
“What was that you hit me with anyway?” Colin asked. “Was that a room service tray?”
Jared smirked. “It was in the little kitchenette in the hut. I'd brought a snack into the bedroom on it. You're lucky it was too dark for me to find the butter knife I was using.”
****
Colin awoke, this time to the deep blue light of early evening. His face still hurt, but didn't feel quite as tight or swollen. He was painfully hungry and wondered what time it was.
Shifting, he felt a warm weight against his shoulder and looked down. Jared's head was there, his hand resting on Colin's chest. Colin just gazed at him for a moment, Jared's hair obscuring his face, though Colin didn't think he was actually sleeping. His breath wasn't shallow or even enough. The warm press of his body against Colin's side, above the covers and Colin below them, took him back to a day some months ago with Jonathan and Francisco dancing on the bed.
Francisco. There was another issue he was going to have to work out.
“God,” Colin groaned, laying his head back on the pillow. “I am fucking starving.”
Confirming Colin's suspicions, Jared lifted his head. He looked sleepy-eyed and tousled. “We'll get that shit out of your nose and then you can eat.”
The face Jared made after carefully removing the bandage let Colin know that he was not a pretty sight. With smug satisfaction Colin finally saw a touch of guilt in Jared's eyes.
“Man,” Jared hissed through his teeth. “Oliver is going to fucking shit himself.” He turned and pulled the wastebasket closer to the bed. “All right, let's get this over with.”
Colin thought Jared was drilling something sharp up his nostrils, because that's how it felt dragging the gauze out. To his credit, Colin only yelled once, when a particularly well-lodged piece was loosened.
“Blow your nose,” Jared had him sitting up, holding a tissue against his face. His nose was still too congested with dried blood for any air to get through.
Blowing his nose was more agonizing than pulling the gauze out, and he had to do it several times to clear it all. Afterward, every breath burned, his sinuses feeling like they were filled with fire.
Jared inspected the contents of the tissue. “There's some blood, but I think it's from the scabs being pulled off. I think you're all right.”
“God,” Colin moaned, touching his swollen nose. His voice sounded much clearer. “That's so fucking gross. How can you sit there and look at it?”
Jared snorted and threw the tissues away. “Colin.” He gave him a look. “When we were in the desert, my fucking tent was right next to our little makeshift bathrooms. Remember how everyone had stomach problems for like, two straight weeks? I've gone beyond the pinnacle of gross in this lifetime and seen the other side. Your bloody nose hardly compares.”
“Yeah, that was a shitty time,” Colin rubbed his forehead.
Jared smirked, getting up from the bed. “That's a creative and yet accurate way of putting it. One might also say it was a vomiting at all hours of the night kind of time.”
“I've had those,” Colin said. “Usually involved alcohol, though.”
Jared called Eamon up and he brought them something to eat. Looking at Colin's face, he winced horribly.
“My self esteem is through the roof right now,” Colin said, snatching the bags from him. “Food.”
Later, looking in the mirror in the bathroom, he just stared in dismay at the reddish-purple blob in the middle of his face that used to be his nose. “I may need plastic surgery.”
“It gives you character,” Jared called from out in the room.
Colin wobbled out of the bathroom, looking at him despairingly. Jared was sprawled on his bed on his stomach, never having gotten out of his robe that day. Eamon had returned to his room after they ate, giving Colin a knowing look and a discreet thumbs-up. In some weird way, he had redeemed himself and maybe, after all, knew what he was doing all along.
Jared was flipping through channels on the television with the remote. “God, there's nothing in English.”
“That's because we're in Thailand.” Colin wobbled over to his bed. His voice was still a little nasally. “They speak Thai.”
“Dey speak Thah,” Jared said, mocking him. He looked over at Colin with a smirk, kicking his legs idly, feet rubbing together. Colin tried to make a face back at him but he was still too sore. He sat down on his bed heavily.
“You ready for Phu Kae?” Jared asked him. “Oliver's probably praying to the makeup gods right now.”
“I think he might have to add a part in the movie where Alexander gets in a fist fight.”
“And Hephaistion wins.” Jared's smirk was evil.
Colin smiled, then said softly, “Hephaistion was going to win all along.”
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