#jude.chat

somehow obi was perfectly well trained, and jude had never had to put in the effort, time or money to do so. he would perfectly walk by his side, never pull from his leash, and every time they were at the park, it went unsaid that every time jude threw the ball away, obi would go get it and bring it right back. he never meant to show off, but truth be told, years of living with a very conservative family, resulted in him having one hell of an arm to throw a ball for (he played baseball when he was a kid– he wasn’t bad at all). of course things had changed slightly when he got injured during the job years back, but he was getting back there again, which resulted in obi being gone for almost one full minute before he ran back with the ball in his mouth. except he didn’t come back in a minute, and not in two. jude’s heart started beating way too fast. for some reason that dog was the only thing keeping him sane living alone in his apartment. he had to take care of somebody, or he would go insane. 

he had to get stitches, he knew that the second he felt the piece of glass cutting across his entire palm. it was deep, it had burned all the way down to his shoulder when it happened, but adrenaline had won, as he stuck the piece of glass to the neck of one of the bastards. it was as if something had taken over, a sense of responsibility, a mission– some drive he had not felt since he had been working in the field, since he got injured himself, but somehow he didn’t stop to think about it like it had almost happened before. it took a single look at valentine’s terrified eyes to know there were greater things than his own trauma, so the second they had the advantage, jude cut up a piece of his shirt and wrapped it around his hand, tight enough so he could pick valentine up from the ground, and take him all the way to safety, whatever that was. 

jude refused to let the ambulance go if he was not on it, but the only excuse he got to get up was that he was in need of stitches, he was dizzy and losing a lot of blood (he wasn’t, but he could play the part), and up he went, in the same ambulance with valentine, who seemed a lot more calm, or maybe it was the painkillers administered right as he got on. jude felt like he could breathe a bit there, holding his hand out while the other first responded cleaned his would and prepared him to get the so called stitches. his eyes never stopped looking at valentine, however. he was concerned, despite being told he was stable and he would most likely be okay. he promised himself he would carry him all the way to safety, and if that took a week, then he would not move away. he learned that on the job, loyalty and promises kept. 

in the hospital they were forced apart, and jude had nothing to say then. he was taken to the er, while valentine went to the icu right away to be checked for every single kind of injury he had. jude could not even tell, despite his experience. and it was then when the ptsd started to kick in. there was something in the smell, in the lights and sounds that made him nauseous and dizzy, and the doctors must have noticed the way his breathing changed that forced him to lay down as they got his vitals, and got his hand finally patched up. he must have passed out without knowing it, it was not the first time he had had a blackout, but hospitals brought memories he was trying to keep buried. his hand was fully bandaged, from the tip of his fingers to somewhere below the wrist and he couldn’t feel anything at all. great medicines, he thought, because last time he had not felt this good after waking up. then again a gun shot and a slash were not the same kind of injury. 

with a throbbing headache, jude got up from the bed he had been put in, and when no nurse came to stop him, he decided to get up and go around to a different section of the hospital. “hey– i’m looking for... valentine... valentine ortiz,” he had heard the last name used in the ambulance, when they asked him for it. he just had to sound confident. “who– who am i to him?” jude’s eyebrows lifted for a second. he wasn’t sure what to say that would grant him a visit. “uh– close friend,” he responded, to which the nurse quirked an eyebrow and shrugged. clearly she interpreted the phrase in the way she wanted to, but jude did not stop to overthink, and just thanked her when she showed him the way as he was already on the move. jude walked confidently, looking door through door until he finally found the right number. it was good it was not the icu anymore, he thought, but he had lost track of time. it was barely dark outside. the night was turning into day, and jude had a couple hours missing in his life, but the second he caught a glimpse of valentine resting in an awful hospital bed, it was as if his airwaves had cleared. his knees were shaking, as he relaxed so much he almost fell to the ground but held himself from the wall. the last thing he wanted was to wake him, however. he didn’t know what kind of night he had spent since he last saw him, so quietly, jude pulled a chair closer to the bed, and sat down to wait. and he had no plans to move.

“you could have told me you had no change before i took a bite out of it,” jude said with calm. it was nearly impossible for the man to lose his patience, but really, he was a little bit in trouble here. the change they owed him was a little too much to tell them to keep it, despite him wanting to help their economy, but it was a bit too late to return his hot dog since he had no other way to pay for it. to him it almost seemed like they were taking advantage of him, and even though he looked quite gullible, jude could see right through them. with an exhale, he turned to the person behind him on the line and smiled at them. “hey– this is random, but... why don’t you order? your dinner is on me tonight.” he offered, taking a step aside.