xp_logs | Jean & Kevin | Tuesday afternoon

Jean finally does what Jean-Paul clearly didn't have the nerve to do: actually say something to Kevin.

Jean had been trying to decide on a good time to talk to Kevin about Jean-Paul. The problem was there was never a good time. It just had to be done. She leaned against the doorway to the medical offices, staring toward the general patient areas for a good five or ten minutes before taking a breath and finally approaching Kevin's bed.

"Hi," she said.

"How're you feeling?"

Kevin gave the redheaded doctor the easy, lazy, lopsided grin of the heavily medicated. He still couldn't feel his toes but he also was sure they still existed. You couldn't wiggle if you didn't exist. It took him a couple tries, but Kevin managed to push himself up and turn around so he was sitting upright and looking at the doctor. "Hi. Ah can't feel my nose." He scratched at his shoulder. He seemed to be itchy a lot but it didn't exactly bug him, it was just there. He'd scratch and check on his toes and scratch again. It seemed perfectly fine.

Looking down, Kevin checked on the bruising he had all down the front of his torso. "Green is good, right?" He pointed to a few spots of very faint green that was edging into his mostly purple and maroon bruising.

Jean folded her arms, smiling softly. "Yes, green is good. It means it's healing," she said, finding it hard to drum up a lot of joy.

Falling silent for a few moments, her eyes trailed up to the ceiling before eventually glancing back down to him.

"Kevin, we need to talk. About Jean-Paul," she said quietly.

Even through the haze of morphine Kevin looked distinctly hopeful. "You find him?" The words were mostly audible, but sounded a lot more like one word than three. He wasn't sure where Jean-Paul was. Maybe he was just reading and didn't want to tempt Kevin to move more than he was supposed to be. Maybe he'd exploded the microwave again and was hiding from Lorna. Why didn't he hide here, though? Kevin was purple, that had to buy some sympathy, right?

Jean's eyes lowered for a moment.

"Yes," she said, her voice still quiet at first, before her eyes flickered back up to him and she held his gaze. She drew in a breath.

"He left the mansion."

"He said he was horrified that he hurt you. He couldn't handle the prospect of hurting you again so he said he had to leave. I tried to talk him out of it but it didn't work. I...don't know if he'll be back. I hope so, but I really don't know. I'm sorry," she said.

It was like plopping down in a lawn chair right on the shoreline, in the face of the oncoming hurricane that was a broken heart. Confusion, denial, anger...grief, all brandishing their arms and shattering the world to pieces.

Confusion was certainly the first emotion that showed on Kevin's face. "Gone?" He felt like he was sobering up suddenly. Kevin knew he was probably just as medicated as he had been five minutes ago, but he felt a whole lot more alert as that stone settled in the pit of his stomach. "You're serious? He waited until I fell asleep and then he...ran?" He ran just like he'd told Kevin he always did. But he'd told Kevin he didn't want to run. He'd wanted Kevin. Wanted them.

He ran anyway.

Normally the sadness would have been chased back from Kevin's face through sheer force of will but that ability seemed to work relative to how sober he was. He could feel the way his face fell as he truly began to understand that Jean-Paul wasn't coming back. He didn't just leave the mansion. He'd left Kevin. And he'd done it on purpose.

Jean pulled up a nearby chair, sitting down beside Kevin's bed. She really didn't know how to answer his questions in any way that wasn't twisting the knife a little deeper. There was no other way.

"I'm sorry," she said.

And she truly was. At this point she had no idea what Jean-Paul would do. She hoped, hoped, and hoped ever more for the best but always, sadly, held reservation for the worst.

He nodded, but he felt a little numb and that wasn't the morphine. His head kept on nodding until the sixth or so time when he realized it and finally stopped. "Thanks." Kevin couldn't keep the sadness or the frustration or betrayal off his face so he lowered his head and looked at his lap. "For tellin' me, Ah mean.

Jean glanced toward the door, plucking the pencil from behind her ear as she turned it over and over in her hands. She nodded a little.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," she said. She wished she had better news.

At first Kevin only nodded, then he asked, "Could you go away now?" It obviously took him a moment to realize how rude that was and when the realization hit it was obvious. "Sorry, Ah just mean...Ah'd like to be alone for a while."

She didn't really take offense to the question. It was a natural reaction to getting your heart stomped on.

"Sure. I'll be back in a couple of hours," she said, standing up, turning to leave. She was still his doctor and had to perform the duties as such, even when emotional turbulence was a factor.

He nodded and said nothing. There was still more to process and Kevin knew he wouldn't manage to think very well through all the morphine. A silent decision was made to only use it when he had to or when Dr Grey-Summers suspected something was up. Kevin suddenly felt like he had no control at all on the situation and the morphine wouldn't help that any. Pain was the other side of that, but that he could use.