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Man cannot be in two places at the same time, but they can.
News travels fast but Crawley travels faster.
Before Samuels got the phone call, Jake heard the news from Crawley, Marc’s fractured mind unaware. Had he not still been reeling from his lunch with Jean-Paul at the restaurant he might have been aware of their whispered conversation.
Instead Jake had already found the floor he needed. Carrying a small pot of flowers helped him to blend in with families and partners trying to locate the room their loved ones were in. The look of concern on his own face was genuine when he asked about DuChamp – Jean-Paul DuChamp.
Had this Rob been there he would’ve introduced himself, but opening the door to Jean-Paul’s room, no one else was inside. Jake softly padded towards the bed, setting flowers on the nearest surface that was free from medical equipment. An IV was hooked up to Marc’s best friend, likely providing the pain medication that made it possible for him to look relaxed despite his injuries.
Jake resisted the urge to reach out for Jean-Paul’s face, instead moving the lone chair close enough to the bed that when he sat down he could hold onto his hand.
“Awfully rude of you to not tell us about Rob sooner,” Jake murmured, smiling faintly even as he raked his eyes over Jean-Paul’s visible injuries. “Not as rude as Crawley tricking all of us.”
Even if he hadn’t been holding his hand with both of his, he would’ve felt the flinch. The twitch of fingers trying to recoil, arm tensing. Jake leaned in closer, not wanting to raise his voice, but trying to make it easier for Jean-Paul to hear him if he was waking up. “It’s Jake. I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“Jake.” Jean-Paul huffed what could’ve been a chuckle but with exhaustion sounded like a cut-off snore. Mouth twitched up into a half-smile as one swollen eye tried to open. “You have a lot…” His voice was weak, tired. “To explain for.”
“Sorry I couldn’t take Marc’s place for your lunch date,” Jake said, smiling as Jean-Paul’s head listed to look at him better. His other eye was half-open, unable to wake more from the lull of medication
“Tell me…” Jean-Paul started, fingers shifting to get a grip on Jake’s hand that Jake carefully clasped his hands around his again.
“Tell you what?” Jake asked, focussing fully on him even as Jean-Paul slowly blinked.
“Would you have ever…” Jean-Paul fought against a yawn and failed. “Told me?”
“Told you what?”
Jean-Paul jerked in the bed, raising up quickly without hands to anchor him down. Eye wide he stared at Rob, looking down on him with confusion.
Pain shot through his midsection and despite Rob’s efforts to ease him back into a comfortable position, Jean-Paul looked around.
Rob standing between the bed and the open door, and Marc standing to the other side of the bed, not looking at him directly, jaw squared as his hands curled into fists in his pockets.
Jean-Paul relented to being lowered, but not without running his unhindered hand over his face, fingers warm.
He only closed his eyes when Rob moved to speak to Marc, giving him a direct view of a pot of flowers on a small table.