Sophie looked around clueless, she knew she couldn't move Mick's massive bulk on her own.
"Mick! Mick!" She called shaking him if she could just get him conscious enough to get to the house she would be fine.
"Hnnnnnn" He groaned slowly coming to his eyes flickered.
"Mick come on you got to help me I can't move you on my own" He slowly lifted his head she gasped as she saw how battered Mick's face was blood seemed to drip everywhere. "Come on we've got to get you inside" She said as he slowly stumbled to try and get out the truck almost falling flat on his face. "It's ok, it's ok I got you" She groaned as she struggled to support his weight as his knees almost gave way and helped him walk inside.
"It's alright Mick it's alright you just gotta stay awake just stay awake" She kept saying hoping that by talking to him he wouldn't fall unconscious again.

She led him into the bathroom she desperately needed to clean him up so she could see the full extent of his wounds and get him into some clean comfy clothes.
"Come on Mick stay with me!" She said louder seeing his eyes droop as she took off his blood drenched shirt. Once he was undressed she led him into the shower, he whimpered in protest as the hot water stung his wounds, she looked up at him but his eyes showed that he wasn't a hundred percent with conscious, he seemed spaced out and drowsy.
"Shhh I know, I know it's ok" She soothed running a cloth over his bruised battered body "Jesus Mick what did they do to you?" She whispered seeing the dark blue and black bruises that covered his body. He looked so different to the big strong terrifying Mick she remembered when they had first met, he looked so vulnerable and hurt now and it broke her heart. Mick purred as she washed the blood out of his grey hair, feeling her fingers snaking their way through his hair was such a lovely feeling.
"That feel good?" Sophie chuckled. Getting him dressed again was a much harder task something similar to dressing an unsteady flailing octopus but she managed It eventually. Once he was dressed and settled in bed she started patching up his wounds. God he caused so much suffering to so many people and yet Sophie just hated to see him suffer. She knew the man he really was the man behind the cruelty, the ego and the crimes.

Sophie laid back in her chair exhausted, she was thankful that Mick had slipped into unconsciousness as soon as his head had hit the pillow so she could patch up his wounds without him being conscious, she remembered what had happened the last time she had patched up his wounds when he was awake when they first met. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair as she saw Micks battered face, everything that had happened to him had been for her, he had sacrificed himself for her. It made her want to cry that Mick had voluntarily got himself so hurt to protect her from harm so different from the sadistic emotionless killer that had wanted to murder her when they had first met. Sophie blamed herself if she hadn't tried to push Mick to open up to him then this would never have happened, she would never have been kidnapped and Mick would never have gotten hurt. She knew what Mick was like he didn't like talking about his past so why did she have to push him? She left the room and cried softly in the kitchen so she didn't wake him and Mick could rest in peace.

Mick groaned in pain and squinted trying to see through his swollen eyes and blurry eyesight. He frowned seeing he was in clean pyjamas and in a bed, what the hell was going on? He couldn't remember a thing after killing his captures. He hissed in pain as he moved his aching muscles to pull the duvet off him and slowly got out of bed. He felt dizzy and wobbly on his feet his knees threatened to give way just as Sophie walked in with some soup.
"Jesus Mick what are you doing!?" She exclaimed panicking quickly throwing the bowl of soup on the side and rushing to his side to catch him before hitting the floor with a thud. "God what are you doing out of bed" She gasped.
"Sophie?" He groaned he could barely see her but he would recognise that voice anywhere.
"Yes it's me come in, get back into bed" She ordered carefully helping him into bed and covering him with the duvet.
"Jeez Mick you need to rest what were you doing?" She said sounding so worried.
"I...I didn't know where I was don't remember a thing after killing 'em" Mick explained.
"Somehow you drove here I managed to get you washed and patched up" She said sounding amazed at how he managed to get here with his sight the way it was. "Anyway I brought you some soup, you hungry?" She asked Mick shook his head he didn't feel hungry he felt in pain but he hadn't eaten in days.
"Mick you should try eating something you need to build your strength up" Sophie said softly, Mick knew she was right, he gave a sigh and nodded.

She brought the soup over to him and offered him a spoon full she didn't trust the quality of his sight to give him free reign over the bowl. She looked at his lips how split they were she knew him eating wouldn't be pleasant but he needed to eat. Mick hungrily took the spoonful and hissed in pain as the hot soup touched his lips.
"Fuck that hurts!" Mick growled but it tasted so good, he'd been thinking of Sophie's food for days.
"Some more?" She asked, Mick nodded already grimacing expecting the pain that was to follow.
"Fuck that shit stings" He hissed, Sophie held back tears seeing how much pain he was in because of her.
"Anymore?" Sophie asked after half a bowl was eaten, Mick shook his head he couldn't cope with anymore pain he was exhausted. "Ok" She said smiling "How about I give you some pain killers and you get some rest?" Mick nodded usually he wasn't one for taking painkillers he would normally just take the pain and get on with it but he hurt too much and he knew he would never be able to sleep with the pain he was in. Sophie gave him the pain killers and he closed his eyes to sleep, she put a cool wet flannel on his eyes to try and reduce the swelling. The man who had been so desperate for affection that he had accepted her idea of being his wife with very little persuasion or cunning, the man who was still suffering from a tragic childhood and the man who loved her no matter how much he struggled to admit it.