Strike Astonishent into Angels

Chapter 5

    John's weeks had set into a sort of routine. Wake up, go to school, remember to collect Laf's homework, drive to the hospital, hang out with Laf, often comforting him, help him with his homework, drive home, eat dinner, go to bed. It was simple, practiced, and orderly. John liked it some days, disliked it others.

John discovered he rather enjoyed the classes he had with Alex. The immigrant could be loud and obnoxious, or soft and concentrated. When he worked, some of his loose hair hung over his soft brown eyes and fluttered with every breath he took. John found himself watching him in his free time. He also found that Thomas watched Alex too, but in a very different way. Thomas would stalk Alex like a hawk, ready to call him out on anything he did wrong, ready to pounce on him, too insult him. James Madison, likewise, would watch Thomas, hope gleaming softly in his dark eyes, wishing Thomas would watch him back.

Alex watched nothing but his work, Professor Washington, and the occasional glance at the time.

Whether or not John had a good or bad day, he managed to relax on the short trip to the hospital, and soften completely around Laf. In the short time he had spent with him, John and the Frenchman had become fast friends. Lafayette wouldn't feel ashamed when his tongue tied and his words tripped, as long as he was around John. John would confess his fears about going to school and working in a big city, and Laf in turn would give him tips (Laf himself had lived in Paris). John would helpfully suggest English words when Laf struggled to find the right factor to complete his thought. John would stroke his hand when Lafayette held back his tears and whispered how much he missed Adrienne.

John was there for Laf, and Laf was there for John.

"H-How was school-- school today, petit?" Lafayette asked conversationally as John entered his room.

"The usual. Alex and Thomas got into an argument over whether Diego or Dora was better," John replied, plopping down on the chair next to the hospital bed that Laf had been confined in the week since the crash.

Lafayette laughed, a trembling, precious sound. "Obvi-ously, Diego is the bet-better choice, non?"

"Exactly!" John laughed. "But Alex was sold on Dora." He shook his head in amusement. "How 'bout you? What's the word?"

"The-the d-doctors say I can soon use the r-rolling chair," Lafayette replied with excitement.

"The wheelchair?" John asked, his eyes crinkling with humor.

"Oui," Laf replied with a slight blush. "Soon, I c-can visit-visit Adrienne!"

"That's great, Laf!" John grinned at the Frenchman. "Are you feeling a lot better?"

Laf's grin dipped slightly. "N-not sure. Still-still c-can't--" he huffed in annoyance, drumming his right-hand fingers. "Still can't talk very-very-very--" He closed his eyes, his fore head wrinkling in disappointment and frustration beyond words.

"Still can't talk very well?" John suggested softly.

Laf nodded, forcing his eyes open. "Arm h-hurts. C-can't move l-legs. H-hurts to breathe. H-head-head-- always hurts. A- a lot."

John reached out and placed a comforting hand on Laf's cast. "I can always get more medicine, if that's what you want. Tell the doctors if the medicine isn't working and you're still having pain."

Laf shook his head miserably. "W-works right-right. Doesn't last."

John's throat tightened suddenly as grief shut it. Lafayette didn't deserve this. Any of this. Nobody rarely did. He reached over and gently squeezed Laf's good fingers. "We'll get through this. Okay?"