D is for Darvocet
By: LemonPOPtart
Rated PG
Charliecentric
Summary: Charlie has oral surgery and is prescribed Darvocet.
Disclaimer: I do not own Numb3rs. I just like to play with the characters. I promise to put them all back, even Charlie. :) Jordan is mine and is purely fictional. Many thanks to Elysium1996 for reading through first.
D is for Darvocet
Charlie Eppes sat miserably in the passenger seat of his car, barely aware that he was finally home. His door popped open, and Jordan, his wife of just one year, was there, taking his arm, and leading him up to the front door.
"I'm fine," he muttered groggily around a cheek-full of gauze.
"No, you're not," she told him, with her arm around him securely. "We'll be inside in just a minute."
Charlie was barely aware of entering the house, sitting down on the couch, and suddenly realizing that his shoes were off. Jordan had obviously removed them He dozed off.
The dull throbbing in his cheek woke him. Charlie opened his eyes, and saw Alan sitting in the easy chair, reading a newspaper. Looking down at himself, he was in a semi-reclined position on the couch, and covered with a blanket.
"Dad?"
Alan lowered his newspaper. "Hey, Charlie. Are you feeling okay?"
He nodded.
"Having wisdom teeth cut out is no fun. I know," Alan said sympathetically.
Charlie rolled his eyes and nodded again.
Jordan poked her head out of the kitchen. "Oh good, you're awake." She disappeared momentarily, then reappeared, holding an ice pack. She crossed the room, and gently placed it against his swollen cheek. "Hold that," she instructed. She kissed him on the forehead. "I'm making you some soup and some Jell-O that you can eat later."
He made a face at her. "Ugh."
She smiled. "Not the green kind. I know you hate that. You want to stay here on the couch, or go upstairs and lie down?"
He pointed down at the couch. "Cowt."
She handed him the television remote. "Okay. Watch TV. Behave yourself." She looked at him intently. "Are you hurting?"
He shook his head.
"Good. Let me know if it starts hurting. The doctor called you in some Darvocet."
He nodded.
She kissed him on the forehead and disappeared into the kitchen. Charlie flipped channels on the remote. He started watching a news program, and soon fell back asleep.
The throbbing in his cheek woke Charlie up. He looked around, and found he was alone in the living room. Slowly, he got up, and headed for the kitchen.
Jordan was stirring the pot of soup, when he walked in.
Her eyes met his, and she reached for the pill bottle. "I'm sorry. I should have been in there with you," she apologized. She put two pills into his hand, and poured him some iced tea.
Charlie carefully pulled the wad of gauze out of his mouth, and threw it into the garbage can in disgust. He put the pills into his mouth, and gingerly took a small sip of the tea.
"You want some soup?" she asked hopefully.
"Lay uh."
Jordan had fresh gauze ready. "Later is fine. Here ya go."
"I hay is," he complained.
"I know you hate it, Sweetie. It'll be a lot better soon." She put her arms around him. "Come on upstairs, and lay down."
He nodded. The whole side of his face was throbbing. Lying down in bed sounded nice. He hoped the Darvocet kicked in soon.
Having changed into sweat pants and a tee shirt, Charlie laid down. The pain was beginning to dull, and Jordan laid a fresh ice pack against his cheek. "Get some rest," she told him.
"Jo-in?" he asked, sadly.
She smiled at him knowingly. "Yes, I'll stay."
She laid down on the bed next to him, and wrapped her arms around him. He closed his eyes.
Charlie woke up. He felt like he was about to be sick. He tried to sit up, and the room spun around. Jordan was immediately next to him, with her arms around him.
"Are you gonna be sick? Can you make it to the bathroom?", she asked anxiously.
He shook his head, holding his stomach, as he stumbled dizzily to the bathroom. Moments later, he was vomiting into the toilet, as Jordan rubbed his back and whispered to him.
She handed him a wet wash cloth. "You okay?"
He shook his head, and she helped headed back to the bedroom. He was still nauseated and dizzy, and all he wanted to do was sleep.
Later….
He had woken up feeing a little better, and hungry. Jordan was obviously pleased that he had finally managed to eat some of the soup she had made. She sat next to him now, looking suspiciously at the Darvocet bottle. "Charlie do you think it was the anesthesia from earlier that's made you sick? Or the Darvocet?"
He shook his head. He knew it could be either one. The side of his face was starting to throb again, and he was ready to get some relief.
"Do you want to try one more dose? I have some Dramamine in there if you think it'll nauseate you again. Or do you just want some Advil?"
The pain was getting bad. Charlie pointed at the Darvocet bottle. Jordan nodded, and poured two into his palm, and handed him his glass. "You want the Dramamine?"
He shook his head at her and swallowed the pills.
An hour later, found Charlie vomiting into the commode again. He couldn't believe how dizzy and nauseated the pills had made him. No way was he taking them again. Jordan helped him back to bed, and went to get the Dramamine.
Lying in bed with an extra pillow tucked under him, he tried to fall asleep. The nausea was easing up, and the spinning room was beginning to slow down. Jordan lay next to him, and held the ice pack against his cheek. He was asleep in minutes.
The next morning….
Charlie was having tea when his dad walked into the kitchen. "Good Morning. Looks like you're feeling better. You certainly look a lot better. Swelling is down a lot."
He gave his dad a small smile. "A lah bet-ah."
Hearing how he sounded, he rolled his eyes. "Hope-fee soun bet-ah soon."
His dad laughed. "You will."
Jordan walked in tiredly, and headed for the coffee pot, pausing only to kiss Charlie gently. "Good morning," she greeted Alan.
"Good morning."
She put two Advil on the table in front of Charlie. He glanced at the clock, and popped them into his mouth. "Thents."
His dad looked at him curiously. "No Darvocet?"
Charlie looked at him. "Uh, no. It wuh bat. See fuss it."
"Come again?", Alan asked.
"He said that I flushed it." Jordan said, plopping down in the seat between Charlie and Alan.
"See tire watt-tin me ge sick," Charlie teased, and winked at her.
She grinned back at him. "No kidding. That was getting old."
"See? I knew da hoe tie," he joked, giving her a small smile.
Jordan frowned at him. "Charlie, I know you feel better, but if you keep talking, you're going to be hurting again in no time."
"I think she just told you to shut up," Alan teased. "Yep. Looks like the honeymoon is over."
THE END