While You were Sleeping

Chapter 2: To Make You Well

"John, it's 8 PM," Dorian said, as John peered into the refrigerator.

"Thanks for the update, Big Ben," John moved the milk to the side to see what was behind it, clucking his tongue at a whole lot of nothing.

"You are fasting as of four minutes ago, you need to have no food or drink for 12 hours before your surgery tomorrow," Dorian informed.

"That's more of a guideline, a suggestion, than a rule," John retorted, finding a half-eaten chocolate bar behind the jelly. Score!

Dorian snatched the candy from his fingers and shut the fridge door. Wordlessly he pointed John out of the kitchen. When John folded his arms and didn't budge, Dorian said, "I don't want to imagine what Dr. McCoy would say if you showed up full of chocolate the morning of your operation. Besides, I promised to get you there."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," John taunted, trying to swipe the chocolate bar. On occasion, he enjoyed driving his android husband just left of insane.

Dorian figured it was a good way to keep his mind off the surgery, but he wasn't in the mood to fight John on the basics. He tossed the bar over the man's head where it landed perfectly in the trash.

John looked at the bin with mournful eyes, "You didn't have to waste it." He plucked the candy bar out with two fingers, inspecting it, covered in spaghetti sauce.

"Gross, John," Dorian said, taking it from him and plopping it back in the trash. He took his human husband by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug. He knew John was scared to go back under anesthesia. Afraid he'd go under and wake up two years later again.

John cinched his arms around Dorian tight and laid his head to rest on his shoulder, slackening against him. "I hate this," he muttered.

"I know," Dorian said, his lips brushing John's jaw. "But it is important to keep you up and running. Let's put on our pajamas and watch a movie."

John nodded and pulled himself upright and away from Dorian's chestplate. That sounded like a nice distraction, "What movie?" he asked.

Dorian walked behind him down the hall to the bedroom so they could change, "Your choice, John. But please not Blade Runner again."

John snapped his fingers in feigned disappointment and wiggled purposefully out of his pants. Dorian decided then and there that no matter what movie they chose, it was going to have to wait.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Jim and Len were in their rather large, beautiful kitchen cleaning the dinner dishes. Len was washing and Jim was drying and putting things in their perspective places.

"So, John's surgery tomorrow," Jim began cautiously. It had been a point of contention for them in the past few days.

"It's not right for you to be there, Jim," Len said, "We talked about this. He doesn't know you and you don't really know him, either."

"I will have you know, we made fast friends over lunch last week," Jim replied indignantly.

Len sighed, "Did John tell you what time his surgery was going to be? And where? And what it was for?"

"No, you did," Jim said putting the pan under the counter and tossing the dishcloth over the lip of the sink.

"Then it is a HIPAA violation, kid," the doctor said, "I will call you after and let you know he's alright."

"Wouldn't that also be a HIPAA violation?" Jim was deeply dissatisfied. "I know they would be happy to see me. '

"No you don't," Len hit the lights. He was beat from the Monday rush. All the medical issues over the weekend in the ER led to a buildup of surgeries and visits. By far, it was his least favorite day of the week.

Jim followed him out of the kitchen and to the couch. Leonard sat down and flipped on the Light screen television. Jim folded his arms a moment and considered turning this into a real fight but Len looked so damn exhausted. He decided on a simpler course of action, grabbed a blanket from the cubby, and tucked himself up under his husband's arm on the couch for some cuddle time.

Grateful for the break, Len planted a kiss on the top of Jim's blond head. fifteen minutes into the news, Len was sleeping soundly, remote in one hand, his other arm wound around Jim.

Jim took the remote and killed the TV screen. Then he shook Len awake gently and prodded him up to the bedroom for a proper night's sleep in a bed. Afterall, Leonard was working on Jim's friend in the morning and needed to be on the top of his game.

. . . . . . . .

John wasn't allowed to have coffee.

It was total. fucking. bullshit. The whole procedure was ridiculous. If that butcher didn't put him back together perfectly, John was going to sue his ass. He was going to knock his lights out. He was going have his license to practice medicinerevoked. He was going to raise hell, bring a world of pain down, knock his block off, and make a scene.

Dorian was so tired of John's ranting on the way to the hospital. He knew it was just the detective's nerves getting to him. He placed a calming hand on John's knee and said, "It's really okay sweetie, you're going to be fine."

"Don't sweetie me," John huffed, but placed his hand atop Dorian's and squeezed. Dorian flipped his palm over and laced John's fingers. It was six in the morning and still dark out as they made their way into the parking garage.

John yawned and followed Dorian into the sterile halls that were once his home for over two years. The smells, the sounds, the soft shoed professionals, it all made his stomach churn.

He signed all the necessary forms, giving Dorian permission to hear anything about his medical condition and he even took Dorian with him into the initial exam room. The nurse took his vitals and asked him a few personal, unrelated questions as she worked, getting him comfortable. Dorian smiled at her with grateful eyes, seeing John relax a little talking about his favorite soccer team. She left so John could strip and get himself into the gown.

Dorian watched him undo his clothing, holding his hand out for each discarded garment as they came off, so he could fold them up and keep them all with him.

John put the gown on and his breath shook out of him uncomfortably. He hated this part the most.

When he got himself up on the gurney, Dorian came over and pulled him into a big, tight hug. He kissed his ear and his neck and his mouth and then said, "You are going to be fine. It won't take very long, and when we get home I will get you any takeout you want in the whole damn city."

"Can we eat it while watching Blade Runner?" John asked, with a devious smile.

"If we must," Dorian conceded, smiling too. He was glad John was joking a little bit now. Dorian hated that movie.

It was still very early and the surgery wouldn't be for another hour. Still, Leonard McCoy stepped into the room with a smile on his face. Dorian liked that he looked fresh and well-rested.

"Hello, Dorian," McCoy said, shaking the DRNs hand firmly. He turned to his patient, "How are you this morning, John?"

"So full," John said, grabbing his stomach, "Those all you can eat pancake joints oughta be illegal," he moaned.

Leonard's sunny disposition fell off his face and he started to scowl. Dorian jumped in and said, "He's kidding, doc. He hasn't had a bite to eat since seven last night."

"Spoilsport," John said and was surprised when the doctor smacked him in the arm rather hard.

Len blushed, forgetting his own advice to Jim last night. They don't know each other that well, it just felt that way.

"Empty stomach?" Len asked Dorian, pointing a thumb in John's direction.

"Yes, doctor," Dorian confirmed.

Len put his hand on John's shoulder and gave him a squeeze, "You ready?"

"Does it matter?" John asked, but smiled.

"Nope," McCoy said.

John lay back in the bed and Dorian came over and grasped his hand and gave him a kiss. "I'll be here when you wake," he promised.

"We're going to take good care of him," Len said, directing Dorian to the waiting room. "Should only be a few hours."

. . . . . . . . . .

Dorian settled into a chair in the waiting room of the hospital surgical center. He wasn't really worried about John, he knew his husband was in good hands with Dr. McCoy and the procedure was far from life-threatening. The hardest part-waiting for it to happen-was over.

In the surgical waiting room, Dorian sat with his spine ram rod straight, his arms gently folded in his lap.

A man across the room was holding up book in front of his face, wearing a baseball cap. When he lowered the book, he was wearing sunglasses. Dorian glanced away, trying not to stare. The man hopped up and looked down the hall in both directions then smiled brilliantly and came and sat by Dorian.

He pulled off his cap and glasses and grinned, "Hey, Dorian!"

"Jim!" Dorian said with happy surprise.

Jim gave him a big hug and released him. "Did you like my disguise?"

Dorian smiled while Jim wiggled the cap back onto his head for a second.

"It worked," Dorian conceded kindly.

Jim set the book, hat, and sunglasses in the empty chair next to him and took hold of Dorian's arm. "I know you are nervous, so I thought I would spend the morning waiting with you. Is that okay?"

"I really appreciate that," Dorian said genuinely. He marveled at the continued kindness of this man.

"Good, I can stay then," Jim said, digging through the bag he was carrying. He pulled out a scrapbook and set it in Dorian's lap.

"What's this?" Dorian asked, surprised.

"I wanted to bring you something," Jim said, he dug in the bag some more and pulled out a teddy bear. It was a normal looking bear but it had a little blue plastic leg. he gave it a squeeze, "I bought this for John. They make them for kids who are adjusting to having synthetic parts. I know he will probably hate it but when I saw it in the gift shop I had to have it."

Dorian reached out and squeezed the bear with his hand and smiled, "He'll pretend to hate it, but don't worry, I'm sure it will have a place of honor on our bed."

Jim stuffed the bear away and Dorian looked at the book on his lap and opened the first page. The image was shocking. There in the middle of the page was John. He was on a hospital bed, his face battered and torn, his arms bandaged, and his missing leg a wrapped and swollen stump. He had a tube in his mouth and several wires and tubes running to his body. Dorian looked up at Jim with wet eyes.

"I know," Jim said softly, putting his warm hand on top of Dorian's. "I am not trying to upset you. I kept this book for John because I read online that families should document everything for coma victims. Pictures, no matter how gruesome, help them connect the pieces of their mind and cope with the loss of time." His blue eyes glistened with tears because Jim was a sympathetic crier. He could barely stand to watch someone on television cry let alone a new friend. Also, though he wouldn't admit it, looking at this book always made him a little sentimental.

Jim reached down and turned the page. A newspaper article, printed out, about the raid on Insydicate was pasted on the bright paper. "I grabbed everything I could," Jim explained, using his thumb knuckle to drain the tears in his eyes. He pointed to a dried flower that had been flattened and laminated between clear plastic sheets. "That is from the bouquet the Delta precinct sent."

Dorian felt overwhelmed looking at all of this. "Why didn't you give this to John when he woke?" he asked, emotion still wobbling his voice.

"God, I wanted to," Jim said, sounding just a little angry, "Len said I shouldn't bother him after he came to and that it would be an invasion of privacy."

"I wish he hadn't," Dorian said, "I think John would have benefited from having a friend."

Jim looked grief-stricken, "I know," he crowed, "It sounds stupid but, I wondered if Len was right. I'd spent all that time with John, but once he woke up, I was afraid he wouldn't like me. I let Len convince me that staying away for the best."

Dorian smiled at Jim sadly. Who in the world wouldn't love being around his sweet, sunny disposition?

"It wasn't easy, staying away. I was so jealous that Len still got to see him, got to put his leg on him and take care of him and he wouldn't let me anywhere near his patient," Jim frowned. "He only told me he was sullen and angry. It made me want to see him all the more."

Looking down at the article in the book, Dorian read the words "Investigations are ongoing to assess the possible criminal involvement of Detective Jonathan R. Kennex, leader of the raid and sole survivor of the attack." The answer dawned on Dorian at that moment.

The android ascertained that Dr. Leonard McCoy had been unsure whether or not John was involved in the crime. Of course, he wouldn't want Jim to be around him if that was the case. Jim must not have figured that out. The doctor knew that every person in a coma needed someone, regardless of their circumstances. However, criminals who wake up need to make it on their own.

A pained look crossed Dorian's face but he completely understood Len's logic and felt the same way thinking about John. His association with Anna had cost him so much, Leonard wanted to save Jim from making that kind of connection.

All of that made it even more touching that Dr. McCoy still wanted John to be well taken care of in his comatose state.

"When I finally wised up and checked Len's schedule, I came in to the office and waited to see John and intercept him when he came in for his checkup. But he never came," Jim explained, "I held this book and brought it to every appointment for six months before it became clear that John wasn't ever going to show up."

Dorian turned the page of the book and clutched at his shirt over his chest plate. A picture of Jim cutting John's hair for him. John's wounds looked healed around his face and his bruises were gone. The wires and tubes were still there. John's slacked face looked lifeless around the tube in his mouth. "I cut his hair, made sure his nails were trim, brushed his pretty teeth-you know they don't do that for you? I told Len that is just terrible."

More pictures of John and his room, cards from coworkers, cards from Jim and Len in Jim's handwriting. A folded mylar balloon crinkled on one of the pages. When he saw a picture of Jim with a cupcake with a candle in it for John's birthday, Dorian had to shut the book. His eyes were wet with tears and he turned in his chair, grabbed Jim on both sides of his head and planted a kiss on his forehead.

Jim laughed, leaking with tears, too.

"Jim, I can't ever thank you enough," Dorian said, he let the young man go, picked the scrap book up, and hugged it to his chest. "Knowing you were there for him means everything to me."

Dorian sighed deep and reopened the book. They flipped through together with Jim telling Dorian the stories behind each item. Hospital bracelets, stickers, copies of chart files Jim shouldn't have even had access to were plastered in the pages of the thick book.

Before he knew it, Len was walking out of the double sliding doors with news. Jim had kept him so expertly preoccupied, the time seemed to fly past.

"Oh shit," Jim said, grabbing his hat and sunglasses and fumbling them on in an exaggerated play to hide himself from his physician husband.

Leonard gave him a look of pure murder and sat on the other side of Dorian, taking his hand. He eyeballed the scrapbook in the android's lap and took a deep, calming breath. Avoiding sending Jim another look. "Dorian, he did great," Len said, feeling Dorian squeeze his hand back, "The new pad is on, there were no complications."

"Thank goodness," Dorian puffed his breath out in relief, "When can I see him?"

"It shouldn't be too long," The doctor assured, "The nurse should come get you once he's awake and she'll give you an informational packet and instructions. You'll take good care of our boy, right?"

"I promise," Dorian smiled, patting his other hand on top of Len's before letting him go.

The kindness on Leonard's face melted away as he turned to Jim who was looking off in the other direction like a stranger on a park bench. "Come with me, Jimmy," he crooked a finger.

"I want to see John first," Jim pleaded.

Len wanted to grab him by the arm and yank him out of there but that wouldn't look too good on his part. He took a calming breath. "Come on, let them be."

Dorian took hold of Jim's arm and cradled it, "Please, Dr. McCoy, he helped me through this today. I couldn't have done it without Jim. John will want to see him."

Jim beamed.

Leonard scowled. "See you at lunch, Jim," he said with an ominous intonation before walking off to his next appointment. He stopped short and turned to Dorian, "I'll be back in to check on John in a bit, once he wakes up."

They waited in silence for the doctor to leave and then Jim burst out laughing. Dorian observed him curiously. "I'm a dead man," Jim chuckled.

Dorian looked at him wide eyed with concern.

Jim waved him off with his hand, "He's a big kitten. I'll just scratch him behind the ear and have him purring again in no time."

That reminded Dorian of John enough to make him smile.

When the nurse came to get him, Jim walked with Dorian down to the room but opted to wait outside so Dorian could go in first.

John looked groggy and his leg was bandaged at the thigh. His synthetic leg was on a nearby table, turned off and looking silvery blue.

Dorian set the scrap book down way off to the side and sidled up to the bed and took John's hand, giving it a squeeze and rubbing his thumb across the top. "Hey sweetheart," he said softly, watching John's dilated eyes catch on him. "You're all done. And you're awake. You've only been out for about two hours."

John smiled at him and sat up gently. Right now he didn't feel anything in his leg. "Did it go okay?" he asked.

Dorian leaned over and planted a kiss on his lips. He tasted like a hospital. "It went so well. Dr. McCoy took good care of you, honey." He leafed a hand through John's hair.

"When can I go home?" John asked with a creaky throat.

"Soon as the nurse says so," Dorian said, "You have a visitor, too."

John looked confused. Dorian opened the door and ushered Jim inside. Jim came in with a warm smile on his face. He halted awkwardly just short of the he'd When John was in his coma, Jim greeted him every day with a kiss to the forehead. It was strange to have those big, muddy green eyes watching him and he lost his nerve.

"John, you did great," he said, plopping the little teddy bear in the crook of John's arm.

The incapacitated man looked at the bear with his eyebrows arched in confusion. "Thanks," he said flatly.

Jim bit his lip, a rolling wave of nausea attacking his stomach. Standing in this blank room, looking at John in the hospital bed again gave him mixed emotions. He was overjoyed when he learned that John had emerged from his coma. But it was bittersweet, with Len's refusal to let him continue to see John, the last two years were spent pining for his friend. Now, seeing John back in the bed, he felt sick.

The man in the bed wasn't intubated and beeping, he was up, breathing on his own. His eyes were searching Jim, trying to figure out what to make of him. Jim was hit with the sudden realization that Leonard was right. He didn't know John, not really. He had a fantasy of John as his friend, but in reality, John was a total stranger.

"I gotta go," Jim said, giving John's hand a squeeze.

John watched him curiously. It was strange to have someone feel so connected to him without really knowing him. He didn't keep too many people close and this guy was in his hospital room giving him gifts. It made his mind reel. He suddenly felt the need to hold this kid at an arms' length. "I think that would be best," he said, his eyes shifting uncomfortably away from Jim and over to Dorian.

The words seemed to cut Jim like a knife. He doubled forward slightly and looked like he might puke. He numbly held out his hands to take back the bear.

John twisted gently, holding the teddy bear tightly. "No, I want it," he said, squeezing the stuffed animal possessively.

The blond man nodded, his arms falling back at his sides. He still looked like his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

Dorian sensed his growing need to escape and gave Jim a hug and brushed a kiss onto his cheek. "Thank you, Jim, for sitting with me, and for, everything."

Jim nodded, on the verge of tears and desperate to leave the room. Dorian saw Jim's clear plastic cell phone coiled in his hot palm. He placed a finger on the phone, blue lights traveling along the circuits there.

"I gave you my number, give me a call anytime you want, kiddo," he said.

Jim nodded and fled.

John looked at the bear with a grumpy face, pinching at the plastic leg. "Can I leave yet?" he complained, and Dorian settled in for what was certain to be a long wait.

"Dr McCoy will want to see you first."

"Yippee."

John adjusted himself in the bed, still feeling a little murky from the anesthesia. Dorian picked up the bear and looked at it with a sigh. He knew John didn't mean to hurt Jim's feelings. John didn't let people get very close to him, not without a struggle. Dorian knew that struggle all too well.

When Dr. McCoy came in a few minutes later, Dorian saw his eyes sweep the room for Jim.

"He left," Dorian said, shifting a little, "I think he may have been upset."

Len nodded, his lips pursing a little, "How are you feeling, John?"

"Fine," John said, "I think I may be the reason Jim is upset, though."

McCoy nodded again, tightly, pulling back the covers to inspect John's bandage. No bleeding. Everything seemed to be in order physically. it was a matter of healing now. Like any tech, upgrades were necessary and the newest connection pad would be a big improvement for John. "You have a few days of healing ahead of you. I think I'll want to see you back before you put the the leg back on. We'll make an appointment a week out."

"He'll be there," Dorian spoke on John's behalf.

"About Jim," Len said, pausing to choose his words carefully, "He's been through a lot. Being there for you, it meant a lot to him. He comes on a little strong, but cut him a few breaks, okay?"

John didn't answer, but he did listen. McCoy put a hand on his shoulder and nodded then added, "See you in a week." He picked up John's synthetic leg, "I'll keep this until then, so you won't be tempted."

John's protests fell on deaf ears as the doctor left the room.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jim walked fast down the halls, managing to smile at the nurses who all knew him and loved him. They all knew that Jim was the reason behind the cupcakes on nurses day, the beautifully wrapped Christmas gifts, and the occasional smile on the doctor's face.

He reached Len's office and burst through the door, closing it behind him and leaning into it. His husband wasn't there so he curled into the chair and tucked his legs up to his chest and buried his face in his arms.

Dr. McCoy knew right where to find his husband. He entered his office and looked at the sight for sore eyes coiled behind the desk. "Jimmy," Bones said softly, carefully tucking John's synthetic leg into the cabinet.

Jim looked up with red eyes and smeared his sleeve across his face before getting up and crashing into Len.

Putting his arms around his husband, one hand clutching at the back of his head, Len asked, "What'sa matter, kid?"

"John," Jim choked out, his voice as messy as his face.

"He's going to be okay, kid," Len assured.

Jim nodded in understanding but that didn't seem to improve his mood.

"Was he mean to you?"

Jim shrugged, then shook his head, "No."

He pushed himself back off of Len and smeared at his eyes, "You were right. I don't really know him. I-," It was all he could manage through his hitching voice.

Len checked his schedule and grabbed his coat. "C'mon kid, let's go to that damned burger joint you like." He hooked Jim behind the arm, pausing before opening the door to smear the tears of Jim's face with his hands and give his soft-hearted husband a deep kiss.