Wrong Place, Wrong Time
Chapter 2
After three days in the ICU, the doctors had determined Kurt's condition had improved enough that he could be moved to a regular ward. He was stable, but still in a lot of pain and tired very easily. It was early evening, the last rays of the sun still peeking from beyond the horizon, bathing it in a red glow.
Jane was sitting in a chair beside his bed, watching him sleep. The NYPD detectives had visited them earlier to interview Kurt about the attack. He had described the events and the suspects as well as he could, ever the agent, but Jane felt his anxiety bubbling under the surface, especially when he described how his assailants had taken his wedding ring and then left him in the alley, essentially to die. She had interrupted the detectives and shooed them out, telling them to come back the next day, when she saw that Kurt was growing tired. Catching the perpetrators was important, but not at the cost of his health.
Kurt was rudely awakened by a stabbing sensation in his side. He opened his eyes, bringing his hand to his side, needing to feel if there was something actually stabbing him. He tried to draw a deep breath but couldn't, as all he felt was white pain that now felt like a stab and a slash, covering his entire chest and his side.
Jane noticed his distress and leaned close, her voice concerned. "What's wrong?"
He was almost panting now, the stabbing pain reducing his breathing to shallow breaths. He looked at her, the lack of air scaring him, as he grabbed the buzzer by his side and pressed it. "Can't….I can't breathe."
She squeezed his hand, her tone calming. "Hang on. The nurse will be here soon. It's okay."
It probably wasn't more than maybe a minute but it felt much longer to Kurt before an older nurse entered the room.
"What's the matter?" She asked Kurt in an understanding voice and smiled reassuringly.
"Side hurts…feels like I can't breathe."
She nodded, "Can you describe the pain? What kind of a pain is it?"
Kurt gasped as the pain flared when he breathed. "Stabbing. Sharp."
Jane caressed his hand softly, speaking up. "Can you give him something for the pain, please?"
The older woman looked at his chart, flipping through the pages, before turning to Kurt. "According to this, you've gotten all the medication the doctor prescribed for today." Placing his chart back in its place she patted his leg softly. "However, there's no sense keeping you in pain if we have medication to treat it. I'll contact the doctor on-call and ask her if we could give you something to make you feel better."
"Thank you."
Jane held his hand, coaxing him to keep breathing as they waited. The wait was agonizing, it felt like the pain was worsening with every breath he took, and that in turn made him increasingly anxious.
Kurt didn't know how much time had passed when the nurse returned, injecting something into his IV port.
"There you go. That should help ease the pain." She smiled, before turning to leave him and Jane alone once more.
He nodded gratefully, relaxing again as his breathing became easier. Jane traced her fingers up and down his arm, soothing him.
"Close your eyes," she whispered in a loving voice.
He murmured, doing as she asked, feeling the pain ebb as the drug started working.
A loud noise startled Kurt out of his sleep, almost sounding like a gunshot in his muddled mind. Without thinking, his training took over and he sat up, reaching for the table where he would normally keep his weapon. He was quickly brought back to the present day by tearing pain and he screamed.
"Kurt!"
He struggled against Jane's unexpected touch for a moment as she gently pushed him back against the pillow. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, gasping for air as colorful spots flashed inside his eyelids.
She leaned in close; he could feel her breath on his skin as she whispered to calm him. "It's okay. Just lie still…lie still."
Ten, maybe fifteen seconds passed as the worst sensation passed, and he opened his eyes again. Jane kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry I startled you. It was just the cup I knocked over onto the floor."
He gave her a weary look, the dull agony still gripping him. He closed his eyes again, a quiet moan escaping his lips.
"Do you need something for the pain?" She asked, her voice filled with worry and guilt.
"No, it's okay," Kurt murmured. The pain was constant, but not all-consuming.
Jane took his left hand, running her thumb over his knuckles. Her hand was warm, soft. Suddenly, he felt a cold sensation as she slipped something onto his finger and brought his hand to her lips.
His eyes shot open, and he gave her a questioning, hopeful look. He looked at his hand in hers, seeing his wedding ring back in its rightful place.
He saw the moisture in her eyes, and her voice trembled. "They found it. The NYPD detectives came by ten minutes ago." She gave a tiny smile. "They arrested one of the suspects, and by some miracle he still had it on him."
Kurt hadn't realized a tear had slipped down his cheek before she reached out to carefully wipe it away. How could a simple band on his finger make him so emotional? But deep down he knew, it wasn't the object itself, but rather what it symbolized. Them, their commitment to each other, through everything that they had lived through and what they would in the future.
Jane stroked his cheek, as he closed his eyes again, his energy drained. "Everything's going to be okay, Kurt."
The afternoon traffic crawled forward on the bridge. After almost two weeks in the hospital Kurt had finally been released to go home. He was still in a fair amount of pain due to his injuries, but the doctors had thought he could be released for home recovery with a prescription of painkillers, and strict instructions to rest and avoid overdoing things before his wounds had healed.
The cars ground to a halt once again. Jane glanced at Kurt on the passenger seat, reaching for his hand over the center console. She squeezed his hand and smiled at him.
"What?" Kurt asked, returning her smile.
"Nothing. I'm just happy to have you home, finally."
He murmured in agreement. "Not as happy as I am to get home. I want some real food after eating whatever the hospital calls food."
Jane couldn't help but shake her head at him. He had been pestering her for the last couple of days to bring him some "real food", but she didn't want to antagonize the nurses by sneaking in takeout for him.
"I know. Maybe we should ask Rich to cook. His vegan lasagna wasn't bad." She turned her attention back to the road as the car in front of them moved, but she still held his hand in hers.
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Rich? What do you mean?"
Jane told him of what Rich had done for her, still touched by his thoughtfulness. With the stress over Kurt, she hadn't given even a passing thought to food at that point. She would probably just have heated some frozen quinoa patties in the microwave and be done with it, if not for the lasagna.
Kurt gave an exasperated groan. "You mean he picked his way into our apartment? I swear to God, if he–"
She squeezed his hand to stop his tirade, and laughed. "Don't worry. Patterson let him in and saw him out. So no, he didn't go through our drawers."
"Remind me to thank her."
The line of cars stopped once more, and Jane turned to look at Kurt again. "So, what do you want to eat tonight? No wine for a while though, but I can go get some groceries and cook, or we can order takeout. Take your pick."
He gave her one of those admiring looks that always made her melt, and his mouth turned up in a small smile "Hmmm…how about Chinese?"
Kurt was sitting on the couch in their living room, facing Jane. Takeout boxes and chopsticks lay on the coffee table in front of them. He couldn't turn his face away, gazing at her.
"Kurt, you're staring," she chuckled.
He reached out, moving a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I can't help it. You're mesmerizing."
She smiled at him, leaning in for a chaste kiss, careful not to lean too far and reawaken his injuries. "You're not too bad yourself."
Now it was his turn to smile. He was home again, with his wife, and no one would interrupt them as he was on sick leave for an undetermined time. He had just eaten his first decent meal in almost two weeks, and his pain was manageable thanks to the painkiller he'd taken.
"Come here," he patted the space right next to him.
Jane hesitated. "You sure? I don't want to hurt you."
"I just want to sit with you here and hold you. Come on," he coaxed, tugging at her shoulder.
She moved closer, cautiously curling against his good side.
They sat there in comfortable silence, just enjoying the moment.
They had sat like that for maybe ten minutes, when Kurt started to feel queasy. Something wasn't right.
He took his arm from around Jane, leaning forward with his forearms against his knees, and squeezed his eyes shut.
Jane touched his shoulder gently, her voice alarmed. "Kurt, what is it?"
"I don't feel so good." He swallowed a lump in his throat, trying to get some air, hoping the feeling would pass.
Moments later, he stumbled upright, ignoring the twinge of pain, and headed for the bathroom. "I think I might be sick."
Just as he got to the bathroom, the feeling peaked and Kurt heaved, losing what little he had eaten. He closed his eyes against the searing agony. His ribs were protesting the movement, but what made him fall to his knees, was the feeling in his abdomen. He grabbed the sink for support, squeezing it with a death grip. The white-hot pain, starting at the site of his surgery and spreading through his upper body, made him feel like something was eviscerating him. He wrapped his other arm around his middle, trying to control the stretching of his muscles, but it didn't help.
He faintly registered Jane calling his name, and then her light touch between his shoulder blades as she knelt next to him.
Feeling like he wouldn't throw up anymore, he collapsed onto the floor, almost in a fetal position as he wrapped his arms around his stomach, trying to catch a breath through the excruciating pain. He couldn't help the low groan that escaped.
"Shh," Jane soothed him, gently maneuvering his head to rest in her lap as her she kept running her hand up and down his back. "It's okay. Just breathe."
He wanted to. Instead, it was like someone turning a blowtorch in his abdomen. His breathing was shallow and his muscles tense as he tried to ride through another wave of agony. After he was able to breathe again, he loosened his grip around his middle but made no effort to move. He kept his eyes closed, focusing on Jane's touch.
"Kurt?"
"Oh God, it hurts." His voice was almost a croaky whisper, the stomach acids still burning a path in his throat.
After holding him for a couple of minutes, Jane got up and filled a glass with water, passing it to him, so he could rinse his mouth and take a sip. She flushed the toilet and took the glass back.
She extended her hand to him and leaned toward him to help. "Come on, let's get you to bed. You need to rest."
Kurt simply nodded, taking the offered hand, unable to hide the pain the movement caused as he stood. As he got up, Jane slipped her arm behind his back, offering some much-needed support as they slowly made their way to the bedroom: one of his arms around Jane, the other guarding his injured abdomen. He sat down on the bed, feeling exhausted and unable to move.
"Lie down," Jane told him softly, as she guided him by the shoulder onto the pillow. Even the slight tensing of his abs as he lay down felt excruciating. Letting out a low moan, he pressed his arms around his stomach, feeling a cold sweat on his face.
The bed dipped as she sat on the edge of it. "Let me see," she said quietly.
Feeling Jane's hand on his arm, Kurt let out a whimper. "No, don't!" He protested weakly, pressing his arm tighter against his abdomen.
"Kurt." Her tone was gentle as she leaned in closer. "I'm worried you tore something, since you're in so much pain," she explained. "I need to check." She pleaded with him softly. "I'll try to be as careful as I can. Please?" He felt her hand caress his forearm as she waited for his reply.
He nodded warily. He trusted her implicitly, but right now it felt like someone was tearing out his insides. He squeezed his eyes shut against it, tensing as Jane went to unbutton his shirt to inspect the wound. But her touch was light as she carefully lifted one taped side of the dressing.
Her tone was reassuring as she spoke again, replacing the dressing. "There's no bleeding that I can see."
"Something good," he grunted, trying to breathe through the pain.
Jane cupped his cheek, her eyes full of love, but he could see her worry, too.
She smiled sadly at him, as he leaned into her touch. "I wish there was more I could do. I hate seeing you in pain."
Kurt just wanted for the agony and the spinning in his head to stop. It seemed the ceiling was moving. He grasped her hand in desperation. "Stay."
As the gouging feeling continued and he groaned, she gave him a pillow to brace against his strained muscles and helped him turn to his side. He brought his knees up slightly, hoping to ease the tearing sensation.
She stroked his hair, sitting beside him as her touch slowly relaxed him. "It's okay. I'm right here."
Kurt had vomited almost the entire first evening and night at home. Jane had been beside herself with worry, as he was in agony and couldn't keep even water or the painkillers down. She'd tried to convince him to go to the ER, but he had refused, telling her it would pass. Sometime during the night he had finally fallen into an uneasy sleep as his body exhausted itself.
In the morning Jane had contacted a number she could call during office hours in case any complications arose. The doctor had asked her what felt like an unending list of questions, and gone to consult his colleagues before calling Jane back. The doctor's suspicion was that the nausea and vomiting were caused by a bad reaction to the painkillers Kurt had been prescribed when he was discharged. It was a new drug for him, so his body wasn't used to it.
The doctor had changed the prescription, telling Jane to contact him if Kurt's symptoms still persisted. Luckily, it seemed that changing the drug had worked. She had given him one of the new painkillers when the pain woke him up again, and he had managed to keep it down.
It was the afternoon, and Kurt was asleep. He was still wearing his clothes, sleeping in an almost sitting position, two large pillows propped behind him as the third, smaller one he had held to his abdomen had slipped out of his grasp and onto the floor. Jane was sitting in a comfy chair beside the bed, reading a book as she watched over him. The pain and the nausea had made him restless, so she couldn't bear to leave him, even though he seemed to be resting peacefully right now.
She put her book down as she noticed him stirring.
"Kurt?"
He mumbled something unintelligible, still half asleep.
Jane smiled at his reaction and reached out, stroking his stubbled cheek. She felt like she needed to touch him, the gesture reassuring her as much as it did him. Almost as if to convince herself that he was home safely.
After a few seconds Kurt opened his eyes, blinking a few times as if to get his bearings.
"How do you feel?" Jane asked in a whisper. "Are you in pain?"
He shook his head slightly, his voice coming out as a raspy "No. Not right now, anyway."
"That's good." She gave him a tentative smile.
"Just tired," he sighed.
"That's to be expected. You had a rough night."
Sitting up with a grunt, Kurt glanced out the window as he reached for a glass of water at the bedside table. After draining the glass, he spoke. "What time is it?"
"It's almost two." Knowing it had been almost a day since he had eaten anything, she went on. "Do you think your stomach could handle some soup, if I heat some from the freezer? That vomiting probably left you dehydrated. And you should try to eat something before you take the next meds."
He was quiet for a moment, before nodding. "I can try. I do feel a bit hungry."
Jane couldn't help but grin at the reply. He was definitely improving if he was hungry. She got up and gave him a kiss. "Alright. You wait here, and I'll bring it to you in a few minutes."
It had been almost a month since the attack, and they were walking slowly along a footpath in the park, listening to the birds chirping in the trees as they leaned on each other. Kurt still wasn't a hundred percent, far from it. He was leaning slightly against Jane for support, with her arm wrapped around his back. But, at least he was out of the apartment. Not counting doctor visits and short trips to the store, it was the first time he had ventured outside for a longer period.
He pulled her closer. "It feels great to be outside."
She gazed at him with a small smile on her lips before speaking. He heard the concern in her voice "I'm glad you're feeling better, but I still worry. The doctor told you to take it slow."
Kurt kissed her hair, chuckling slightly. "Why do I feel like we've had this conversation before, hmm?" But, just as fast he grew serious again. "I know you're worried. I'm sorry."
Jane shook her head, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Don't be."
He nuzzled her hair. "Sometimes I still can't believe how lucky I am. I love you."
"I love you too, Kurt."
He kissed her again. "So, how about lunch? All this walking is making me hungry."