Summary: When James wakes up, he's in the hospital, the cold whiteness of the room and sheets making his eyes ache. There's a touch and he startles, finding his Governor next to the bed, a relieved smile on his face. He says something, lips moving, but there is no sound. James can't hear. Two weeks later, a specialist tells him that he never will again.
Snippet:
When James gets home from the hospital, the first thing he sees is his guitar, leaning against the sofa where he'd carelessly left it when getting the call. He can't hear the noise it makes, smashing against the wall, but he can feel the vibrations all the way to his bones, the splintered wood falling at his feet like kindle.
Lewis comes by next morning with his own keys, not like James can hear the doorbell now. He doesn't say anything, doesn't write a word about it on his ever present notepad (they had tried texting but half the time James couldn't tell what Lewis had tried to type so pen and paper it was for now). He just makes the tea and slaps one of his current files onto the table. James knows that he's breaking at least fifteen rules by showing them to him, but he doesn't care. He'll never work as a police officer again, but at least for now, he can still help.
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Summary: When James wakes up, he's in the hospital, the cold whiteness of the room and sheets making his eyes ache. There's a touch and he startles, finding his Governor next to the bed, a relieved smile on his face. He says something, lips moving, but there is no sound. James can't hear. Two weeks later, a specialist tells him that he never will again.
Snippet:
When James gets home from the hospital, the first thing he sees is his guitar, leaning against the sofa where he'd carelessly left it when getting the call. He can't hear the noise it makes, smashing against the wall, but he can feel the vibrations all the way to his bones, the splintered wood falling at his feet like kindle.
Lewis comes by next morning with his own keys, not like James can hear the doorbell now. He doesn't say anything, doesn't write a word about it on his ever present notepad (they had tried texting but half the time James couldn't tell what Lewis had tried to type so pen and paper it was for now). He just makes the tea and slaps one of his current files onto the table. James knows that he's breaking at least fifteen rules by showing them to him, but he doesn't care. He'll never work as a police officer again, but at least for now, he can still help.