Archive of Our Own ^beta

The man Dean and Anna bring in is drunk, dirty, conscious, cheerful, and singing.

"Drop-kick me, Jesus, through the goal posts of life!"

Chris bites his lip to keep from laughing; Elspeth has to turn around and collect herself.

"End over end, neither left nor to right!"

Dean's face is completely straight as he reports, "Fractured right tibia and probably fibula too, surface infections in contusions to the skin of both legs."

"Make me, oh, make me, Lord, more than I am!"

"OK," says Chris. "Well, this should be interesting. I'll learn some new music, at least."

"I've got the will, Lord, if you've got the toe!"

Dean says to the man, "We're gonna leave you with Dr. Nicholson here. He's the best there is at what he does."

The man's singing suddenly halts, and he looks up at Dean. "You're a fine young man. Jesus loves you."

"Uh, thanks, dude."

The man takes Dean's hand and pats it. "Even if you don't believe in him, son, he believes in you." He pauses, and Chris is about to take over, but then the man adds, "And Jesus don't care who you love. He just wants us all to love. You love who you got to love, and don't you be ashamed."

Dean turns bright red to the tips of his ears.

Chris steps over as Dean disentangles himself. "I'm Dr. Nicholson. I'd like to do some X-rays, but why don't you tell me what happened."

The man looks at Chris, then looks back at Dean and smiles happily. "Aw, that's nice. See, Jesus is all about the love."

"Right," Dean says, and flees. Anna raises her eyebrows and follows.

"Sir—" Chris starts again.

"Now, you, you look like a man who believes in Jesus."

Chris was raised Episcopalian, but his views on trinitarianism are somewhat irrelevant at the moment. "Sir, if you could please tell me what happened—" He'll read the X-rays, but it's better to have a patient account to go on.

"So you know that when Jesus tells you to love somebody, you got to listen."

The last person Chris loved (besides his family and friends) was Prentice, who is truly irrelevant at any moment. And Chris's only real interest since seems to be about as straight as Chris is gay. He writes up the X-ray instructions, then asks one of the orderlies to take the man over.

The man doesn't argue, just says, "Don't you worry, son. It'll work out."

"That's the first time I've heard a drunk Jesus freak play yenta for two guys," Elspeth observes once he's gone.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure. And you don't like 'em scruffy and a little butch. And that hot, scruffy, slightly butch man didn't just blush like a girl on a prom date." She pats Chris on the back and adds, "It's good to know that even smart people can still be completely stupid sometimes."

She ducks away before he can elbow her.