Twenty Weeks
Dedicated to the OHT who make life so enjoyable, and especially to Joodiff, The Teddy Bear and Never stop believing in love, may you all feel well again soon, massive hugs. Also dedicated to reviewers everywhere, your comments make it so much more worthwhile. I hope you enjoy.
Dislaimer - I own nothing except an imagination and a desire to...
Rating M – Some Adult Content
Story – Boyd/Grace –– Solidarity Add On - Boyd and Grace are in an established relationship and have been living together for five years, he becomes insanely jealous over the mention of Murray Stewart, Grace's ex. But his world is thrown into chaos over Grace's head injury. My version of what happened after Solidarity.
She cringes at the sound, and is sure the glass in her office door is about to smash to the floor, but thankfully it doesn't, it rattles and it shakes and the door frame wobbles, but it stays in one piece. But that is just the tip of the iceberg, and she winces at the thought that things are going to get considerably more difficult before they get any better. She flinches at the sound of the filing cabinet drawer being slammed shut with such force that it would probably have removed the fingers of anyone in its way. It was ridiculous, beyond ridiculous, pure bloody stupidity, how could anyone react this way over something that happened so long ago. What was she supposed to do, write him a detailed document listing all her previous partners, lovers and almost lovers, for god sake! She couldn't believe she was even having to think about this, bloody pig headed man, jealous of a sodding shadow, a face from the past, why the hell should it make any difference to him who she slept with in the past, it was over twenty eight years ago.
Grace placed her head in her hands and sighed deeply, five years they'd been living together, five years and still he sulks at the mention of a name from her past, a man she only knew briefly, who she only slept with once, for god's sake. She rubbed her hand over her forehead and sighed again, before biting the bullet and getting up to go and speak to him. She knocked on his door lightly and waited for him to look up and nod his head before entering his office.
"Don't do this Peter."
"Don't do what?"
"Sulk and throw things around over something that happened years ago, you were the same when you found out about me and Harry Taylor."
"I'm not sulking, and I don't recall throwing things around…."
"Oh alright if you want me to be specific, you're slamming doors and drawers, and all in the name of something that happened over twenty eight years ago, it's ridiculous."
"I had MI5 in here today, asking me not to disclose information to you because you were on a bloody watch list, my partner of five years was on an bloody MI5 watch list and she never bothered to tell me, how is that supposed to make me feel."
"I was young and idealistic, ban the bomb was the campaign to be involved with, I went to a few protests, a few marches, and yes it got me on Maggie's shit list, it was ancient history Peter, I never mentioned it because I never saw the point. Are you telling me you have disclosed everything from your past, every stupid little thing you've done, every mistake you've made and every woman you had a fleeting acquaintance with."
"No maybe I haven't told you everything, but this wasn't some little part of your life, you didn't just attend a few protests and go on a couple of marches Grace, you spoke at rallies and protests, you led the marches, what am I supposed to think when you make contact with the man that was in your life at that time, and don't even tell me."
"Do you think I contacted Murray to rekindle some long lost romance, that I have some notion of jumping into bed with him?"
"I don't know what to think, maybe that was you're reason, or maybe you know more about this case than you're letting on, and you were getting in touch with him to warn him off."
"Five years together and you think I would go behind your back, you think I want someone else, or that I would go behind your back on a case."
"Well did you?"
"I think the fact that you've just asked that question speaks volumes about our relationship and where it's going."
"Yeah well I think the fact that you haven't answered says a lot more."
Grace turned around and walked out of his office, resisting the urge to slam either his or her own office door, she didn't want to stoop to his level. She sat back at her desk, and within seconds could hear raised voices in the bullpen, Boyd was taking his anger out on everyone else now, shouting at Spence and Sarah, the only reason Eve escaped was because she was in the lab, and not even he could make his voice carry that far. As she walked out into the bullpen to try and diffuse the situation her mobile started to ring. She answered it, and in the midst of the conversation managed to let Boyd know that it was Murray who was on the line, he held up a piece of paper asking her to arrange a meeting with him, she did, reluctantly.
"Grace you don't have to do this, we can't guarantee your safety." Sarah immediately said a worrying edge to her voice.
"She's right Grace, it could be dangerous." Spencer added.
"It will be fine, I'll be fine, Murray has no reason to hurt me."
They watched from a distance as Grace approached him, and as she did he pulled the gun from his pocket, he was just showing it to her, explaining to her what had happened with Lucy Christie, but from a distance and without the ability to hear what he was saying, it looked threatening, Spencer immediately shouted, and ran at them, fearing for Grace's safety. Sarah and Boyd immediately followed him, realising what he had said.
It was almost in slow motion, as Spencer ploughed into Murray and accidentally knocked him into Grace. They all looked on in horror as Grace was knocked to the ground, her head banging against the concrete path, her wrist bending back as she tried to cushion her fall.
"Grace! Are you okay?" It was Sarah who was first to her side, checking she was okay.
Boyd was a little slower to reach them, but he also went straight to Grace's side, "are you okay?"
"I'm fine." She replied to him, the anger still evident in her voice.
He tried to help her up but she pushed him away and took Sarah's help instead. Back at the office they got Eve to check her over, she had a couple of grazes, and a sprained wrist, they asked her to go to hospital and get her head looked at, but she refused. Instead she got Spencer to drive her home and took the rest of the day off, still fuming with Boyd for his reaction earlier.
At home she changed and made herself a cup of tea, ignoring his calls and text messages. It was much, much later when he came home, she was in the kitchen preparing something to eat, when she heard the front door open and close again.
He hung up his coat and looked in the lounge of their home before walking through to the kitchen; she was standing at the work surface.
"Hi." He said, sheepishly, walking over and standing by her, he leant with his back against the side where she was stood; he raised his hand and ran the back of his finger up and down her arm. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine." She bit back, moving far enough away from him, so that his hand was no longer in contact with her.
"Come on Grace, you know I hate it when we fight." He said his voice soft and almost seductive.
"Maybe you should think about that before you start flying off the handle at every little thing."
This time he said nothing, he put his hand on her waist and pulled her towards him, without giving her time to think, he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her hungrily. He pushed her against the kitchen table and held her tightly, she kissed him back, raising her arms to his neck and running her fingers through his hair, his mouth moved down her neck, his teeth gently grazing her skin, as his hands began to wonder over her body. Grace became lost in the moment, and every hint of the earlier argument was lost as she responded to everything he did, every kiss, every bite, every touch. His mouth moved to her ear, "It's entirely your fault Grace, I can't help myself, you drive me wild, and the slightest hint of you with someone else makes my blood boil."
Grace pulled back from him, breaking contact. "What did you say?" She asked him.
"I said the slightest hint of you with someone else drives me crazy."
"No, you said it was entirely my fault, it sounded roughly like the kind of thing a man who's just beaten the living daylights out of his wife would say."
"What? Oh for Christ's sake Grace, don't be bloody ridiculous, I just meant that….Oh for fucks sake, it doesn't matter what I say does it, this is just going to snowball into another big fight."
"Not if you're putting the blame on me for you throwing a hissy fit over one of my ex-lovers, no!"
"Ex-lover! Earlier on you'd only slept with him once, now he's an ex-lover."
"You are unbelievable; we slept together once, on one occasion, it still puts him in the category of an ex-lover."
"Really, are you sure about that Grace, because the story seems to change every time you tell it, how well did you know him before you dropped your knickers for him? Did you invite him into your bed the first time you met him, or was it a quickie in some back alley, I bet you were no better than a cheap tart."
He never saw it coming, the hand that sharply and quickly caught him a glancing blow across the face, leaving a stinging hand print on his cheek. She walked away as soon as she'd done it, leaving him alone in the kitchen.
"Oh that's very mature Grace, and you're comparing me to a wife beater, nice."
The rest of the evening was spent in relative silence, Grace was curled up on the sofa, whilst he sat in the large armchair that filled one corner of their lounge. He noticed that she kept rubbing her forehead and eyes, but said nothing. At eight o'clock Grace stood up and announced, albeit rather quietly, that she was going to bed.
"Are you okay?" He asked.
"Are you even interested?"
"Goodnight then." Sarcastically.
Grace changed for bed and snuggled up with her book, although her head was pounding too much for her to concentrate on reading it, eventually she gave in and put it down. She turned out the lamp and curled up on the bed, laying her head on the soft pillow.
It was about an hour later that Boyd got bored with his own company and decided to join her; he made her a cup of tea, a small, but thoughtful peace offering, and one that he hoped would avoid him having to sleep on the sofa. The bedroom was dark when he walked in, and Grace was curled up on her side, she was making funny little groaning noises in her sleep. He put her cup of tea on the side, and sat down next to her, gently stroking her face. "Hey, sleepy head, you okay?"
She groaned some more as she woke up, she opened her eyes and blinked at the light coming from the small lamp that he had turned on, it was nowhere near her, but was obviously causing her some distress. "Peter?" she said, her words slurred.
"You okay?"
"My head hurts." Her words were still slurred and she seemed disorientated.
"How bad is it?" He kept his voice soft and tried to shield her from the lamp light.
"It's pounding."
"Is it a migraine or something else?"
"I don't know."
"Have you taken any tablets?"
"No."
"Do you want me to get you something? You have some migraine tablets in the bathroom."
She sat up next to him on the bed and he put one arm around her to comfort and steady her, the moment she became up right she vomited over the floor. "Oh god I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry its okay, I'll sort it out, okay, answer me Grace, okay?" Before she could reply she rolled backwards onto the bed and started to shake and convulse violently, he instantly grabbed his phone and dialled for an ambulance, all the time trying to get a response from her. When the seizure stopped he tried to talk to her, but she was unresponsive. He picked her up in his arms and carried her down the stairs, laying her carefully on the sofa. He knelt beside her and stroked her hair, "You're going to be okay, I promise you, everything will be fine." He continued to talk to her, and she groaned a couple of times, but she didn't speak.
The ambulance arrived quickly and Grace was rushed into A&E, with Boyd at her side, he was asked to wait in the waiting room whilst they assessed her, but in true Boyd style he paced up and down in the corridors. He informed the rest of the team, and anyone else who needed to know, and then did some more pacing, he got himself a coffee from a machine in the waiting room and then continued to pace. Every now and again he checked his mobile phone, in-between pacing. And if he wasn't pacing he was harassing the receptionist for information, which he didn't get, except that she was being assessed and treated and that someone would be with him soon. He had been there almost an hour when Spencer turned up, followed soon after by Sarah and then Eve, they did their best to keep him calm, to little avail. After three hours with no information he again approached the receptionist, she had a distinct look of dread on her face as she saw him walking towards her. Just as he was about to speak, a man dressed in hospital scrubs came out of a door and called out his name.
"That's me, I'm Peter Boyd." As loud as ever.
"Could you come with me please?" The Doctor asked and led him into a small room off the main waiting room.
As soon as they stepped into the room Boyd bombarded him with questions, "how's Grace, is she okay?"
"I was told that Grace had a fall today and took a knock to the head, is that correct?"
"I've already been through this with the receptionist, could you please just tell me how she is, all this waiting around is driving me fucking insane."
"Okay, getting wound up isn't going to do any of us any good, so if I could just ask you to remain calm and I will explain to you what's been going on."
"Right, fine, I'm sorry I'm just going out of my mind here."
"When Grace hit her head earlier, she had a small bleed on her brain, this caused a blood clot to form, and this in turn has put pressure on her brain."
"But she's going to be okay, you can treat her right."
"She has just been taken in to theatre for an operation to remove the clot, I'm sorry we couldn't inform you before she went, but it was all rather urgent. The surgeons will do their best to remove the clot and reduce the swelling, after the surgery it's just a matter of waiting to see if any damage has been caused to the brain."
"Brain damage?"
"It is a distinct possibility, it really depends how long the clot has been pressing against the brain, I won't lie to you Mr Boyd some kind of brain damage is almost inevitable."
"But she can recover from that, it's not irreversible."
"I can't speculate on that, it all depends on how severe the damage is, but at Grace's age the chances of a full recovery are less than good."
"That's just your opinion, that's not based on any kind of fact, she might be fine, and she might not have any kind of brain injury, right?"
"Yes, it is just my opinion, and yes there is a possibility that she may come round from the operation fit and well."
"So how long will the operation take?"
"Again, I can't be sure of that, it depends on how bad the bleeding is, it will be a good few hours, but we'll keep you informed of what's going on, and let you know when she is out."
Boyd and the others were shown to another room, near to the intensive care unit she would be moved to after the operation, they all waited with him. Spencer tried to keep him calm, Sarah glared at him, still angry that he had put Grace in such danger, and Eve did what she always did, she sat and waited, she didn't say much, she fetched the occasional coffee, went out for the occasional cigarette, and then just sat and waited.
For most of the time the room was silent, all of them looking up in anticipation when they heard one of the outer doors open or footsteps on the corridor, and then looked away again when they realised no one was coming into see them, or him.
"I was jealous!" Boyd said out of the blue, not too anyone, just into the room.
"Jealous of what?" Spencer asked him in response.
"Of Murray Stewart, I know, it's stupid, but I just…I've never been as happy as I am now, and I guess I just got it into my head that she would hook up with him and she'd leave me, after all why would she be with me? Why is she with me? What do I have to offer?"
"So your own insecurities made you send the woman you supposedly love into a dangerous situation. Nice" Sarah's accent making her voice sound particularly harsh.
"I know you all blame me, I blame me too, I hate what happened, I hate that we argued, and that the last words I said to her were in anger, I called her a cheap tart, what if I never get to tell her I'm sorry."
Eve cut Sarah off before she could get into another round of Boyd bashing, "it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, what matters is you and Grace. Oh and for the record, she is with you because she loves you to bits, you may be a bit of a prat or even a complete arsehole at times, but she knows that you love her. You'll have every chance to say sorry when she comes out of this, okay? This is going to be okay, she'll be okay." As she finished speaking she glared at Sarah, a silent warning for her not to continue giving him a hard time.
It was five hours later when the door opened and another Doctor walked in, this one was older and he had a nurse with him. Boyd instantly felt nervous, why did he need the nurse, was he about to deliver bad news, he stood up in anticipation.
"Mr Boyd?" The doctor asked him.
"Yes." It was all he could manage to say.
"Please sit down." He gestured towards the seat. "You are Doctor Grace Foley's next of kin, correct?"
"Yes that's correct, is she out of surgery?"
"Yes she is, things were slightly worse than we first thought, but she has come through the operation. She's not conscious I'm afraid; we have put her in an induced coma to allow her brain to recover from the injury and the surgery. We'll see how she is in 24 hours and then decide whether to bring her out of it or whether to leave it a while longer."
"Can I see her?"
"Shortly, they are just settling her into intensive care, she has a machine that's helping her breath at the moment, don't be alarmed, it's a precautionary measure whilst she is in the coma."
"Do you know if there will be any brain damage?"
"We will only be able to tell that when she wakes up I'm afraid, we just need to take it one step at a time for now, and the first step is to get her out of the coma and conscious again. I'll get someone to come and get you when you can see her."
Boyd sat back down and again waited for a member of staff to tell him he could see her, it was now the early hours of the morning, and he seemed to have spent the entire evening and half the night sitting in waiting rooms.
The door to the waiting room eventually opened again and a nurse came in, "Hi, Mr Boyd, you can come through now." She said to him.
He turned to Spence, Eve and Sarah, "you may as well go and get some sleep, they won't let anyone except family in to ITU, and I'll keep you informed if anything changes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, thanks Spence, thanks for staying, all of you, but I'll be okay."
As they left Boyd was lead through to the intensive care unit, it wasn't huge, about six beds in a ward type set up, all patients separated by a curtain, and each one of them wired up to various machines that were bleeping and flashing. Grace was in the far corner, and he had to admit that it took him back a little to see her. Her head bandaged, a breathing tube going into her mouth, and various other lines going into her arm, one coming out of the bandage on her head, clearly draining the blood away from the operation site. He stood by her side and took her hand in his own, he wasn't sure what to do, he was so shocked at how she looked that he had no idea whether to talk to her, kiss her or just stand and stare.
A nurse brought a chair over for him, and then stood and explained what all the machines and tubes were doing, she told him it was okay to hold her hand and talk to her if he wanted to. Before he knew it, he'd been sat there for the rest of the night, daylight could be seen through the slatted blinds at the windows, he looked at his watch, it was 7.30am, and he'd held onto her hand for so long that both of them had sweaty palms. Grace was still in the induced coma, the machine was still helping her to breath. They had told him it wasn't breathing for her; it was just helping her, until she was awake.
48 Hours Post Op
Boyd had barely left the hospital, sitting at her side hour after hour; they did some tests 24 hours after her op, but had decided that her brain was still too swollen to risk bringing her out of the coma. They repeated the tests after 48 hours, and had now decided to let her wake up. They stopped the drug that was keeping her in the comatose state, and then monitored her until she started to wake up; they estimated it would take roughly six hours for that to happen. They asked Boyd to leave whilst they removed the breathing tube and ran some more tests, but he didn't leave the hospital, and as soon as he was able he was back by her side, waiting for that all important sign that she was coming to. He watched her face continuously for any sign of movement, hoping and praying it would come, and it did. Seven hours after they stopped pumping the anaesthetising drug into her system she blinked, nothing more, just a blink followed by a flicker of her right hand. The nurse was immediately at her side, pressing the buzzer for further assistance and asking Boyd to wait outside, which of course he didn't. He remained where he was. Within a couple of minutes a couple of doctors were at her bedside, talking to her and asking her questions to try and bring her round, which she didn't respond too. They called Boyd forward, and asked him to speak to her gently, hoping a familiar voice may help.
"Grace, Grace sweetheart its Peter, can you hear me?" No response, "Can you hear me Grace, can you squeeze my hand?" Again he got no response, after a few minutes she started to cough and opened her eyes, she didn't speak, she just looked at the people around her, before looking at Boyd and trying to speak. She instantly recognised him, that much was obvious, but so was the difficulty she had when she tried to speak, her words were slurred and her mouth only seemed to be moving on one side. Boyd gently squeezed her hand, "you're in hospital okay, you hurt your head, but you're going to be fine now, everything is going to be fine." He masked his concern well when he spoke to her, not drawing attention to the fear that was running through his mind.
The doctors took no time at all to move him out of the way, so that they could check her over, the nurses bustled him out of the unit and into the waiting room, where once again he sat playing the waiting game for the next couple of hours. Eventually he was joined by a doctor, who had come to explain what was happening.
"Grace is experiencing a weakness in her left side, at this moment, we have no idea at the extent of this, we do know that it's not a complete paralysis, just a weakness, but it is a significant weakness."
"Is it treatable, will she get better?" The questions running through his mind seemed to want to all spill out of his mouth at the same time.
"It's very early days, the fact that it isn't a complete paralysis is a very positive sign, it does seem to be affecting her speech, but she seems to be aware of where she is, and she has called for you, so at the moment we are pleased with her cognitive function, so we are optimistic for her recovery."
"But you're not positive?"
"Brain injuries can cause lasting problems, it's not something that we can predict, all we can do is repair the damage and deal with the difficulties as and when they arise. As she gets stronger we will run more tests and see how we can best help her to overcome or adapt to these problems. I know your eager to find out everything, but all we can do at this point is wait, in a few days we will be in a much better positions to give you a full prognosis, and work out a recovery plan, there are lots of things that can be done, physiotherapy for a start, but let's see what's what first."
"Can I go back in and see her?"
"Yeah sure, she may have gone back to sleep, she'll be quite drowsy for a while."
"Okay, thanks or your help." Boyd shook the doctor's hand, despite the problems, she was alive and awake, they were over the first hurdle, and they'd deal with the rest as and when they came along. He walked back into the area where she was; the nurse was adjusting the bed for her and making her comfortable, when she saw him, she left them alone. Just as the doctor had said, she was very drowsy, drifting in and out of sleep, he sat on her right side and held her hand, rubbing his thumb over it every now and again. When she was awake she tried to speak, but it was difficult, the left side of her mouth wasn't moving, and he could see that she was frightened.
"What's happening Peter, why am I here?"
"You banged your head, and they had to operate on you, but everything's going to be fine, I promise, just rest okay, you need to get your strength back."
"I can't move my hand, and my mouth won't work properly, I don't understand, what's going on." She was clearly becoming distressed by it all, every time she drifted off to sleep and then woke up again she seemed to understand a little bit more about the restrictions she was experiencing, and every time it upset her a little bit more. She was able to take small sips of water, and he helped her to sit forward and drink through the straw, he sat on the edge of her bed and kept one arm around her, as the other hand held the cup whilst she drank.
"Peter I'm scared."
"I know." He held her a little tighter and put his face next to hers, "you're going to get over this, I'm going to make sure of it, I will be at your side all the way, I give you my word, it's just a temporary problem, that's all it is." He wasn't sure of anything, and he knew all too well that he could be giving her false hope, but at the moment she needed to hear positive words, she didn't need to know the worse, that could wait until she was stronger, for now he would tell her anything she needed to hear to get her through it.
84 Hours Post Op
Over the next few days the extent of the damage to Grace's brain became more apparent, her cognitive function was fine, she had suffered no memory loss, and her brain seemed to be functioning okay, she was however, suffering from a sever weakness on the left side of her body, this was affecting her face, arm, hand and leg, her internal functions seemed to be fine, but she was also experiencing some emotional problems, she seemed to become upset very quickly and kept asking Boyd not to leave her. The doctors said it was all part of it, and she would hopefully get over it in time. She had now been moved to a private room, the wound was healing well, and she was due to be assessed by a physiotherapist so that they could work out the best way to help her overcome the physical problems. The doctors seemed optimistic that she would make a full recovery, but that it would take time, and she would need a full time carer until she was back to full strength. Boyd made the decision to be that full time carer, he arranged to take leave from work for an initial period of a month, with an option of extending that as and when needed, he knew it would take longer than a month, but wanted to see how things went.
Three Weeks Post Op:
In the hospital Boyd spent as much time as possible getting used to helping her. At the moment the weakness meant she couldn't walk, so needed help getting around. She couldn't feed herself, she could hold cutlery and a cup with her right hand, but with one side of her mouth not responding it made it impossible to feed her, so he sat and fed her, or gave her a drink.
When she was ready to go home he arranged everything, a wheelchair to take her home, a hand rail by the bed so she could pull herself up without his help, the same in the bathroom by the toilet and bath, a specially designed tray for her to sit and eat her dinner, along with special cutlery. He knew it would be vital for her to remain as independent as possible during her recovery. There was no way she would be happy relying on him for every single thing, and the more independent she could stay, the quicker her recovery would be in the long run.
On the day she came home it was all ready for her, he had a duvet and pillow on the sofa as they had told him she would probably want to sleep a lot. The hospital gave her pain killers and some other medications and she would have daily appointments at the physiotherapist. These would start the day after she was released, the sooner they started working with her the better, it would mean her muscles hadn't had time to shrink and become less mobile. At home he lifted her from the wheelchair and on to the sofa, covering her up with the duvet, she complained, but within half an hour she was fast asleep.
A couple of hours later she was awake again, "Boyd? Boyd?"
He rushed into her. "It's okay; I'm here, what's wrong." He sat on the edge of the sofa and took hold of her right hand, "calm down, and tell me what's wrong."
"My head hurts." She replied tearfully and almost childlike.
He immediately looked at his watch, working out how long it had been since she'd last had pain killers. "I'll get you some pain killers; I'll be straight back, alright." Grace nodded her head at him and placed her hand over her eyes to shield them from the light. He returned with water and pain killers, helping her to sit up and take them. Once she'd taken them he put the glass down and put his arms around her waist, he pulled her against him, his hands resting on her back. "Put your head on my shoulder." He whispered to her, and he sat and held her, gently soothing her until the pain subsided. The medication caused drowsiness, so after about half an hour she was asleep again. He gently laid her back on the sofa, careful not to wake her; he then sat with her for a while. The hospital said the violent headaches would subside, but like everything else they couldn't say when, it was all one big waiting game.
The next time she woke she was a lot calmer, the pain was gone, for now at least, and she sat up and had a cup of tea. Boyd cooked for them, and he sat and fed her and him at the same time, he helped her to the toilet when she needed it, and helped her do everything she needed. At bedtime he carried her from the sofa and upstairs to bed. He sorted her out some pyjamas and helped her into the bathroom, he brushed her teeth for her and helped her to wash and change into her pyjamas.
"Are you happy on your normal side of the bed?"
"Yeah I think so."
"Do you think you'll be able to pull yourself up on this, with you right arm?"
"I'm not sure, possibly."
"Do you want to have a try?"
"Can we try it in the morning, I'm really tired."
"Yeah of course we can." He replied, kissing her on the forehead, he then laid her down and went around the other side of the bed to get in. "Are you comfortable?"
"Would you hold me, please?" She asked him softly.
"Yeah, of course I will." He moved over and laid next to her, pulling her into his arms, she buried her head into his shoulder and within minutes was fast asleep again, she woke a few times in the night, when she needed to move but couldn't, and once when she needed to use the toilet, other than that, everything was fine.
Seven Weeks Post Op:
He couldn't deny that he thought the early days would be the worst, that getting used to fetching and carrying for her, and seeing to her every need, including her personal needs would take its toll on him; he thought it would either make or break him, and in the process, them. But the early days turned out to be the easiest, when she wasn't asleep she was usually very quiet, and Boyd was amazing, he did everything, without a word of complaint. Her days very quickly became a routine of visits to the hospital, physiotherapists and speech therapists, but progress was painfully slow, and as the days turned into weeks she started to become frustrated with her uncooperative body. Her mind was working fine, the tiredness was a bit restricting, but it was the lack of progress with her physical problems that frustrated her most. Having to rely on Boyd for almost everything was getting to her. She was still experiencing violent headaches, with pain so severe it rendered her completely incapable of doing anything, the headaches also brought with them severe mood swings, and at the drop of a hat she could be shouting and swearing at him for no reason. The first time it happened he was shocked, Grace didn't often use bad language, but she had thrown every foul word possible at him and called him everything imaginable. He was a little more used to it now, although he had to say it was something he didn't want to get used to, not ever.
He helped her do her Physio every day, and her speech therapy, both had given her exercises to do at home, she didn't enjoy it and usually moaned, but he made her do them. He was now able to leave her at home alone for short times, whilst he popped to the supermarket or to pick up her prescriptions; it gave them both a breather.
He returned from the shop having done their weekly shop, he had offered to take her with him in the wheelchair, but she had declined, she didn't want to be seen out in the chair, so he went alone.
"Grace, you okay?" When he got no reply he looked around the door to the lounge, she was asleep on the sofa. He walked over and sat on the edge of the sofa, gently brushing her hair out of her eyes with his hand. She jumped, "it's ok, it's only me, I'm back from the supermarket, you okay?"
"No, I've got another bloody headache."
"Have you taken your pain killers; I left them on the table in case you needed them, with some water." He looked at the table to see them still where he had left them.
"I can't fucking reach them, you know I can't reach them from here, why did you leave them so far away?" She practically spat the words at him.
"Okay calm down, I thought you'd be able to reach them, I'll get them from you." He reached the tablets and water, ignoring her outburst, "here you go, sit up." He put his arms around and helped her to sit up. She swallowed the tablets and then buried her head into his shoulder; she found it soothing to hide her eyes from the light by using his shoulder as a shield. He again kept his arms around her and tried to sooth the pain away, he soon realised that she was crying. "Hey it's okay, it'll go off soon." He spoke soothingly into her ear.
"It's not the pain."
"What is it then?"
"I don't know what's happening to me, I say things, I don't mean to, it just all comes out."
"It's the headaches that cause it, the doctors said so, it will pass in time, all of it will."
"What if it doesn't? What if I stay the way I am, almost paralysed with headaches so bad that it feels like a tractor has driven over me. Spitting abuse at you when you're doing everything for me, what if things don't get better?"
"Don't even think like that, it will get better. No question about it, in twelve months' time we'll look back and wonder what all the fuss was about."
"If things don't start to improve soon, I think you should move out, and move on. You can find someone else and start again, and I'll hire a professional carer to help me."
"Do you want to know something Grace, no amount of bad language or verbal abuse could be as hurtful or insulting as what you've just said. Do you think that's what I want? Do you think I'm that unfeeling that I could just pack my bags and walk away from you? This isn't a bloody guilt trip, I'm not here because I think I should be. I'm here because I want to be, because I happen to love you, we have spent the last five years of our lives living together, and you think I can just pack up and walk away."
"You're only here because you feel guilty, I know that, but I didn't want to lose you so I didn't say anything."
"So you know how I feel now do you? So tell me, what do I feel guilty over?"
"Because we argued the night I collapsed, we argued over Murray Stewart. And because it was your idea for me to meet up with him, but it wasn't your fault, it was an accident Peter, no one's fault."
"You remember the argument?"
"Yes I remember the argument, we said horrible things to each other and I slapped you, but it was just an argument, you have nothing to feel guilty about."
"In some ways your right, I did feel guilty about what happened, and I felt terrible about the things I said to you. All I wanted was to be able to say sorry, and I thought I might never get the chance. But I am still here because it's where I want to be, looking after you. I love you Grace, don't you understand that?"
Grace lifted her right hand to his face, "You have nothing to be sorry for."
"I'm not leaving Grace."
"There is a chance I won't recover, a chance that I will remain like this forever more, how will you cope with that."
"I'll retire and look after you full time, but that isn't going to happen, you will get better, you will make a full recovery and even get back to work in time."
"Peter you can't even kiss me whilst I'm like this, are you really saying that you will be content to spend the rest of your life taking me to and from the toilet, feeding me, and living the life of a monk."
"I've kissed you."
"You've kissed me on the cheek, or the forehead, but not the way you used to kiss me, things have changed between us. I don't blame you, but I'm not going to tie you to a sexless relationship for the rest of your days. It's wouldn't be fair, you're still in your fifties, you're good looking, you have a heart of gold, and you would have no problem finding someone else."
"I don't want anyone else, I want you, forever." He leant forward and pressed his lips against hers, pushing her back on the sofa and smothering her with kisses, holding her in his arms, after a while they stopped kissing and just lay on the sofa cuddling. "The reason I hadn't kissed you was because you're not up to that yet, I didn't want you to think all I was after was sex. Everything takes time Grace and I know full well that you need to recover before we can go down that road again."
"But what about what you need?"
"I can wait, and if I get really desperate I'll just spend a long time in the bathroom."
"I didn't think cold showers worked."
"I'm not talking about a cold shower, I was thinking more along the lines of a little self-indulgence in the bath tub."
"Well if it's that you're after, my right hand still works you know."
He gulped hard as she placed her hand on his inner thigh and began to slowly raise it, gently massaging him through the fabric of his trousers. He leant forward and began to kiss her, he couldn't deny that it felt good, he'd desperately missed the intimacy they normally shared. But he also found it a little awkward, he wanted to touch her, to return the attention she was lavishing on him, but he knew she wasn't up to it, not yet. So he just kissed her and gently nuzzled her neck as she lowered the zip on his trousers and slipped her hand inside, encircling him, stroking him, feeling the throbbing heat emanating from the extreme hardness that was begging to be released from beneath the material. His breathing was rapid and heavy, and he groaned against her soft skin as she brought him to his very natural and very welcome release. Satisfied and serene he lay with her on the sofa for a while longer, just cuddling and talking.
"I'm sorry Grace."
"For what?"
"For the things I said, for getting jealous over Murray, for behaving like a spoilt child and calling you a…a."
Before he could finish the sentence she placed her finger over his lips to shush him, "it's the past Peter, it's over and done with, and we don't need to say any more about it."
"I need to say it; I've needed to say it since it happened, that night I came upstairs to apologise, even made you a cup of tea."
"Wow, a whole cup of tea."
"I'm being serious Grace."
"I know, but we don't need to go over this again."
"I do Grace, it's been burning a hole in my heart since the day it happened, and I need you to understand why I behaved like that."
"Okay."
He leant back on the sofa and started to talk. "Since the first moment we got together, I've felt that you were too good for me, and I've expected you to leave me. So when you started talking about some old flame I had a major crisis of confidence, I thought when you saw him again, it would reignite all those old feelings and you'd walk off into the sunset to live happily ever after."
"Why do you think I'm too good for you?"
"Because you're amazing, you have it all, looks, personality and brains. And I'm just me, I shout, I lose my temper, I rush into everything without thinking."
"Do you want to know what I think?"
"Are you going to tell me anyway?"
"Yes!"
"Okay then."
"I see a man who puts everything into what he does, whether its work or home, you give it your all. Yes you shout and lose your temper and you maybe stubborn and sometimes even a bit pig headed, but it's always for a reason. It's because you care about what you're doing, because you want it done right and you want it done straight away, usually because someone or something depends on it. It is never done without reason, you never lose your temper for the sake of it, or because someone forgot to buy the milk. You shout because you're waiting for the DNA results that will nail a murderer or a rapist, because it will give somebody closure. Oh and for the record the packaging's not bad either."
"But if I hadn't been so pig headed and stupid, I might have been more alert when you went to meet Murray, I might have been more careful instead of just letting you walk off into that park. He had a gun."
"Yeah and if I had gone to the hospital like you wanted me to straight after it happened, we might have avoided things getting so bad, but we can't change any of it. It was an accident, it happened, and now we need to do as you say, and move on."
He helped her to sit up and held her in his arms, her head resting on his chest, "I'm scared of losing you Grace, I love you, you make me happier than I've been in years, but I keep waiting for the bubble to burst, for you to realise that I'm not worth the effort, and leave me."
"You're not going to lose me, not then, not now, I love you and I'm with you because I want to be with you."
He gently kissed the top of her head, "how's the headache?"
"It's not too bad, thank you." Her voice was soft and sleepy.
"We need to do your Physio exercises."
"Mm Later. Too comfortable here." She snuggled against him, her head resting in the crook of his neck; he listened as her breathing levelled out and she gave the occasional gentle snore, before he could be sure she was asleep. Then he too relaxed and drifted off, happy in the knowledge that she was safe in his arms.
"Argh fuck!" He whispered the expletive, trying not to wake her up, it was a couple of hours later and he'd woken up with cramp in his leg, he tried desperately not to wake her, but it was impossible.
"What's wrong?" Her voice was sleepy, her speech, as always when she first woke up, was heavily slurred.
"I'm sorry, I've got cramp, and I need to stand up." He stood up with her still in his arms, and then put her gently back on the sofa. He then proceeded to dance around the room, trying to straighten his leg enough to relieve the pain in his calf, much to Grace's amusement. "It's not funny, its bloody agony." It didn't stop her, and she raised her right hand to cover her mouth to avoid him seeing her. "Thanks! It's really nice to see you so concerned."
"It's just cramp, don't be such a baby."
He stopped dead at her words. "What did you say?" He asked, the pain in his legging easing at last.
"I said don't be a baby." A little sheepishly.
He walked slowly over to the sofa, where she had now returned to her laying position. "Get up." He demanded.
"What?"
"Get up."
"I can't you know I can't."
"Try."
"Don't be stupid."
"Oh, first I'm a baby, now I'm stupid, nice." He leant forward and proceeded to straddle her, pinning her arms down so she couldn't move. He the leant forward and rubbed his rough goatee over her face, over one cheek and then the other, as she wriggled and squirmed beneath him. "Say sorry."
"No." A hint of juvenile delinquency in her voice.
"Are you sure you wouldn't like to change that answer?" This time he rubbed his rough beard up her neck.
"Yes, quite sure thank you." She gave a little schoolgirl giggle at the end of the sentence.
"Well I gave you a chance Grace, now I'm afraid you have to face the consequences." He leant forward and again rubbed his beard over her face and neck as she wriggled to try and get free from him. All the horse play soon turned into a passionate snogging session, he released her arms and she instantly put the right one around his neck. Although she could move the fingers of her left hand, she still had very little movement in the arm, and could not move it around him. He noticed her composure change to a more stressful one, and immediately stopped kissing her. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing!"
"Yes there is, tell me."
She gave a heavy sigh, "I just wanted to put my arms around you, but I couldn't even manage that."
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me Peter, I wanted to hold you and be like it was before."
"It will be. It just takes time."
"I don't want it to take time, I want it now, I'm bloody fed up with my body not responding to what my head is telling it, and sometimes I….I think I'd have been better off dead."
"Don't you dare say that, don't you bloody dare." He immediately released his grip on her arms, standing up and running his hand through his hair, a look of disbelief on his face.
"I can't deal with this; I just can't deal with it." The tears started to flow freely down her face as she spoke.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself Grace, you want it to hurry up and end? You want to get better? Then get off your arse and do something about it, do the Physio exercises, stop sitting around moping; I've seen children with more guts than you."
"What would you know about it, it's not you that's sat around hardly able to move, relying on someone else for everything. I can't even go to the bloody toilet on my own."
"No I'm not going through it! I'm watching the woman I love go through it. I'm watching her wallow in self-pity, instead of being the woman she could be, the woman I know she is."
"It's so easy for you."
"Easy? You think this is easy? Watching you going through it all, having to do everything for you, listening as you shout foul mouthed abuse at me, watching you become something you're not, grow up Grace, now get up."
"I can't." Her voice was bitter and angry.
He almost marched back over to where she was sat, he put his hands under her arms and lifted her from the sofa into a standing position, "I don't want to hear I can't, I'm tired of hearing it, if you want it to end then work for it."
"Peter stop it, I'm going to fall, please, I'm scared of falling, please."
He instantly realised how scared she was, she was crying and trembling with fear. He was holding her in a standing position; he pulled her against him and hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry. Don't cry, I won't let you fall I promise, it'll be okay." He spoke the words softly, delicately, trying to calm her down and ease her fears. She sniffed and sobbed into his shoulder, whilst all the while he held her upright. He waited for her tears to stop before speaking again, "listen to me, I'm going to turn you around, okay?" No reply. "Okay?" He said a little louder. She nodded her head in response at him. He gently turned her around, supporting her weight all the time; he kept his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. "We're going to walk forward."
"I can't do it."
"Yes you can, we're going to do it together. Do you trust me?" Again, no reply. "Do you trust me Grace?" He tightened his grip around her waist to make her understand.
"Yes I trust you."
"Well that's a start; we're going to walk towards the wall, okay? I promise I won't let you fall." She nodded her head apprehensively, and then slowly shuffled her left leg forward, it was slow going, and it took time, but eventually they made it the few steps to the wall and then back to the sofa, where she sat down. When she sat down he helped her to exercise her arm, getting her to lift it and then lower it, with his help, and try and push her hand against his hand, the last part involved her trying to squeeze a small rubber squash ball several times as hard as she could. Again it was slow, but they completed it all, just as the Physio had shown them. When they'd finished Grace looked absolutely exhausted. He lifted her legs one at a time and began to rub the calf muscles, massaging them with his fingers to loosen the muscles after the exercise. He then helped her to lay down on the sofa, on her front; and slowly began rubbing her shoulders. He slipped his hands to the hem of her top and pushed it upwards.
"What are you doing?" She asked a little surprised.
"Shh, it's okay, I'm going to give you a massage." He slipped her top over her head and then sat astride her as he had earlier; he started by leaning forward and kissing the top of her back, as he sat back up he put his hands on her shoulders and splayed his fingers across her soft skin. Firmly but delicately he began to massage her back. It wasn't intended to be erotic, it was meant to just relax her muscles, and feel nice, but as he continued to press his hands into her bare skin he began to feel a little hot under the collar. He used his thumbs to gently work down her spine, then slid them back up the length of her spine, the sound of her moaning with pleasure causing his temperature to rise a little more. He could feel her grinding slightly against him; all of a sudden he sat back and pulled his shirt over his head. "God it's hot in here." He said to excuse his actions as he threw it on the floor.
"Are you having a hot flush?"
"Ha! Yeah I think I am."
"Why don't you help me turn over?"
"Um, I really don't think I should."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not sure I could control myself, and I think you've had enough activity for one day."
"You could do all the work; I could just lay back and think of England."
"As painful as it is for me to say this, and believe me, it really is painful; I don't think we should go there, not yet."
"No one's said we can't."
"I know, it's just, well, I'm worried something will happen."
"I was rather hoping something would happen."
He smiled that boyish smile to try and hide his desire, "I meant something other than that. I just think we should wait, for a while at least." He again leant forward and planted tender little kisses on her neck. "I love you."
"I love you too."
"Why don't you have a nap and I'll go and get dinner on."
"Okay."
He helped her back on with her top, kissed the top of her head, and pulled the duvet up to keep her warm, he stood for a few minutes and watched her as she drifted off to sleep, exhausted. His heart swelled with the love he felt for her, even going through everything they were going through now couldn't change that fact, it only made his love for her stronger. He left her to sleep and went to make them something to eat stopping to pick up his discarded shirt on the way out.
Thirteen Weeks Post Op:
After Boyd's outburst at Grace's comments and lack of commitment to getting better, things slowly started to change. She opened up to him more and more, and it wasn't about commitment, it was about fear, a fear of failure, fear of falling and fear of making a fool of herself. With his help and support she started to overcome those fears, with his strong arms around her she felt safe enough to do the exercises, and started to do them daily just as she was meant to. As well as the exercises, the massages and rub downs also became a daily occurrence, and every time it ended up in a passionate embrace that went a little further than the one before had. But Boyd still refused to take that last step and actually make love to her, this time it was him who was frightened, frightened her blood pressure would raise and cause a recurrence of the bleed on her brain, it was a stupid irrational fear that he couldn't get out of his head, no matter what she said, he couldn't take that final step.
Grace was now able to stand unaided, and move her right arm; this meant she could now feed herself and was no longer reliant on him to do that for her. Her speech was almost back to normal, she wasn't sure that snogging was good exercise for her mouth, despite Boyd's insistence that it was. Still something had worked because the slur in her speech was now hardly noticeable. Now thirteen weeks after her surgery, she was going to attempt to take her first unaided steps, he had brought a walking stick to help her, but so far she hadn't tried to walk anywhere without his help.
"Okay, you ready?"
"No, not yet."
"Why not?"
"I'm just not; I won't be able to do it."
"Yes you will, we'll start off as normal, I'll hold you and keep you balanced and then slowly you can try it alone." He helped her stand and slipped his hands around her waist, just as he always did when she did her Physio.
"Don't just let go of me, promise me."
He tightened his arms around her waist and snuggled his face against her neck, "I would never just let go of you, I promise."
She placed her hands over his arms, "thank you. Okay, let's start." She began slowly taking steps walking from one side of their lounge to the other just as they always did, "loosen your grip a little, but don't let go." It was reminiscent of a child riding a bicycle without stabilisers for the first time. He loosened his grip and now kept his hands gently on her waist to support her.
"I'm still with you, alright, don't panic."
"Okay, don't let go."
"I won't, I promise." Slightly irritated.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay, don't worry, just concentrate on what you're doing." They made it to the other side of the room, he was barely holding her at all now, he guessed it was just that little bit of security that she needed, without her noticing he loosened his hands even more, so that they were touching her but not in any way supporting her. "When do you want me to let go?" He reminded her of the purpose of what they were doing.
"Not yet, in a minute."
He pulled her back against him tightening his arms around her waist, "you can do this, I will stay right behind you, I won't let you fall, but you can do it."
"Okay." He put his hands back on her waist as she again started to walk, and as she moved away from him he let go, he never spoke he just let her walk, and she did it. "You're not holding me are you?"
"Nope, you're doing it all on your own. I said you could do it, and you are."
Grace stopped suddenly, and Boyd instantly returned his hands to her sides for fear she would fall, "it's okay, I'm okay." Her voice was emotional and he knew straight away that she was crying, he manoeuvred himself around her and drew her into his arms.
"What are you crying for? You should be happy."
"I am happy, it's just…..I couldn't have done this without you, I owe you everything."
"You owe me nothing, yes it's been a difficult and rocky road, but it's you that's been through it not me."
"Don't talk such utter rubbish, if it wasn't for you I would still be sat around feeling sorry for myself, you made me get up and do this, you helped me with every aspect of my recovery, and you've never once let me down."
"You would have done it for me."
"I don't know if I would have been strong enough."
"You're stronger than you think Grace."
Twenty Weeks Post Op
"Peter hurry up, we're going to be late." Grace's words echoed through the house as she shouted at the top of her voice.
"Alright I'm ready." He walked through the door to the lounge still doing up his tie, they were due at the registry office, Frankie was getting married to her partner Andrew, and Peter and Grace were guests of honour. It was a Friday afternoon, and it was to be a small and private wedding, just a handful of people. If they ever got there!
Grace was now confidently walking with just a walking stick, even outside of the house; in fact the only part of her recovery that hadn't moved on, was in the bedroom. Boyd still wouldn't make love to her, they had talked about it time and time again, and she had even suggested they see a therapist, but he wouldn't hear of it, he just kept saying it would sort it's self out, but he still wouldn't make that final move. They were intimate, in many ways on many occasions, but when it came to going the distance he refused.
"Why do you always take so long to get ready so we arrive late?"
"We have ages yet, we won't be late."
"Frankie asked us to get there early."
"Alright, alright, let's go, you're holding us up now by questioning me."
He helped her into his car; the good thing about his choice of car was that it was very easy for her to get in and out of, even in the early days of her recovery. The spacious and powerful Audi that he loved so much was obviously a very good choice.
He parked as close to the door as possible, to make it easier for her, in the doorway they could see Spencer waiting for them, he looked amazing in his designer suit with the traditional buttonhole on his jacket, he immediately rushed to the car and opened the door for Grace. "Hi Grace, how are you doing?" he said kissing her and holding his arm out to help her.
"I'm doing well thanks Spence, where's Frankie?"
"She's inside; I'll show you the way." She thanked him as he escorted her to a small waiting room inside the registry office, "she must have popped out, you wait here, and I'll go and find her." Spencer closed the door behind him, leaving Grace and Boyd alone in the room.
As the door closed grace started to fiddle with her handbag, "what's up?" he questioned.
"Nothing."
"What are you looking for then?"
"It's okay I've found it now."
"What?"
"This!" He looked to her face and then her hands to see a small box. "Forgive me for not going down on one knee, bit I might not be able to get back up again."
"What's going on?"
"Well, umm, I'm asking you to marry me."
"What?"
"Are you deliberately being thick?"
"No, I'm confused, I thought we'd come to Frankie's wedding…..." His voice trailed off at the end as he began to realise that all was not as it seemed. "What's going on Grace?"
"Well, with a lot of organising and a considerable amount of help from our friends, we're getting married. That's providing you say yes."
"You're serious aren't you?"
"Yes."
"So Frankie and Andrew are not getting married?"
"No, it was the best way I could think of to get you here."
"Why didn't you just ask me?"
"I just did."
"I mean beforehand, why all the secrecy?"
"Because I wanted to do something for you, you once said you were afraid of losing me, and I wanted to prove to you how much you mean to me, how much I love you, I wouldn't have made it this far without you."
"I think we've had this conversation."
"Yes we have, and I am still convinced that without you things would have had a different outcome, yes I may have got better, eventually, but it would have taken a hell of a lot longer without the love of such a caring and amazing man at my side every step of the way, sometimes literally, every step of the way. I love you Peter, I love your more than I could ever say or show, so I thought the best thing to do would be to show you how committed to you I am, to show you that not only do I love you with all my heart, but also, that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so will you marry me?"
He broke into a big smile before answering. "What, right now?"
"Your quick on the uptake today aren't you, yes right now. Will you Peter Boyd, marry me Grace Foley, right now, in this building in the presence of our friends."
"Okay."
"Could you sound any less enthusiastic about it?"
"No, I mean yes, I mean, oh for heaven's sake Grace, I'm in bloody shock. Yes I'll marry you, I'd be over the moon to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you."
Grace opened the jewellery box to reveal a pair of wedding rings, "oh there is just one condition."
"What condition?"
"If this marriage isn't consummated within twenty four hours I will have it annulled."
"Oh really?" He replied a little incredulously.
"You can bet your life on it. So do we have a deal?"
"Deal!"
The end
Oh, And PS, the marriage wasn't annulled!