Operation: Moonfall | Jimmy Crystal Revenge & Redemption

The Concussion

Jimmy detested hospitals. They were where you heard godforsaken words like "terminal" and "inoperable." His nose wrinkled at the blended smell of what he considered disinfectant and death. He was extremely antsy and, worst of all, he didn't have his snacks to help calm him. The trash in the vending machines wasn't very appealing; he'd never describe his palate as delicate, but he did have self-respect, and part of it would die if he was ever forced to ingest anything labeled Flamin' Hot. That's what happens when you don't carry your own supply, he felt.

Jerry would've been on top of this.

What followed was a rare jolt of self-awareness, how shitty people would think he was for lamenting his currently hospitalized assistant not being able to take care of his selfish needs in this moment.

Leaning against the wall outside Jerry's room, Jimmy's attention went to the elevator at the end of the hall. He had to suppress a salacious grin when Cleo stepped off the elevator and headed his way. She was still wearing the dress from the concert, and he loved the way her hips swayed in it. Judging by the snow leopard's glare, she knew exactly what he was thinking.

He noticed the empty space next to her and pointed. "Where's the tyke?"

"Tai's staying with my sister for the rest of the night. He was pretty upset." She glanced around and could tell the staff wasn't too happy with Jimmy's dark-suited security team currently occupying this floor of the hospital.

"Yeah, I imagine watching me almost get beaned traumatized the kid."

"He was upset because he didn't get to meet Roxy." The concert continued after Jerry was taken by the paramedics, but the security breach meant that any backstage events after the show were cancelled. It was the first time in a long time that Cleo was unable to keep a promise to her son.

Jimmy coughed to cover his embarrassment. "Okay, sure. Makes sense," he said, tugging at his bow tie. He had half a mind to rip it off and throw it away. He wasn't sure how Jerry convinced him to wear it. Bow ties were never his favorite, but they were practically ruined for him after everything that went down with Buster Moon.

Keeping the mind-reading going and not quite agreeing, Cleo reached up and straightened out the bow tie. "There's a bit of a silver lining here—this incident is doing wonders for your rep. There's all kinds of pictures and footage circulating of you attending to Jerry." She backed off and admired her handiwork. "Some people are even shipping you two online."

Jimmy responded with a blank stare.

"Shipping is when—"

"I know what shipping is, Cleo," he said, agitated. "Porsha does entirely too much of it."

"All I'm saying is this situation is boosting your image."

"If you say so," Jimmy growled. Now Cleo was glad she hadn't bothered to show him the fancams popping up on social media; she decided to push the other, more pressing subject at hand.

"How's Jerry doing?"

Jimmy's non-answer said more than he intended. There was a micro-flash of emotion—shame, perhaps—that he was too close to Cleo to completely hide. He'd been standing out here all this time and Jerry was none the wiser. She suppressed the urge to nag him, instead hooking her arm around his.

"Let's check on him together," she said, pulling the wolf along into Jerry's room.

Jerry sat nestled between pillows on the hospital bed, head wound wrapped in a bandage, gaze aimed into his lap. Once he realized who walked in, his eyes, bright and expressive as ever under the light fixture attached to the wall over the bed, nearly bulged at the sight. "You really came!?"