Waking to the feeling of pain-filled stiffness in his neck and back on top of the drained feeling accompanied by the remnants of a nightmarish sleep filled with painful images he can't quite fathom, Tim's eyes snap open. His mind desperately searches for its' first grasp of the day while his body tries to associate what he knows as opposed to what it feels like happened. Fell asleep in the easy chair by the window. No surprise there.
He remembers turning the fairly light piece of furniture last night once he was certain his love was completely asleep, so that it no longer faced the door, but rather the bed. It was his job to watch over Leroy, so that's what he set out to do, watch for any signs throughout the night, that Leroy needed him or help of any kind. Leroy! Damn! Wasn't supposed to fall asleep on the job like that!
Sending his eyes over to the bed, Tim scrutinizes the man he loves while the patient thankfully continues to sleep soundly. Inwardly, he sighs with relief. Needing to hit the head and go start breakfast, he gets to his feet, stretches his limbs for a minute and turns to head out of the room.
"Where's my coffee?"
Stopped on a dime as the question comes seemingly from out of nowhere, Tim's not as quick to respond on topic as usual, even though he is fairly quick to turn back and sit back down in the chair, looking his love directly on. "Uhm. Good morning. How a...?"
"Coffee?" Leroy asks more firmly now.
Tim shakes his head. "You heard Ducky. Not til next week."
"Damn it, Tim!"
"I promise, as soon as he gives the okay, I'll have you a cup of your favorite for you."
"Not good enough!" Leroy growls testily.
"Are you ready for breakfast?" Tim attempts to turn the topic onto something less argumentative.
"Not hungry!" Leroy breathes out on a sigh as he closes his eyes in resignation. He's not big on breakfast. Tim knows that already.
"I know. But you need your medication and you know the drill with that stuff." The younger man pushes.
"Enough, Tim!" The patient impatiently growls.
"No, Leroy. I know this is the first time in forever that you've had someone stay with you and be in your corner 24/7 after you've been hurt on the job - and that's taking some getting used to - but I'm not going anywhere!" Tim firmly replies as he gets to his feet. "You have to eat regularly so you can heal physically. You have to do that before you can get back on your feet! I'll be back in a few with your breakfast. A small one, I promise." Without another word, he slips from the room and heads downstairs.
Leroy sighs. He knows he's being a grouch but he can't help it. Everything hurts, he has to use the head and he really misses his coffee! Stubbornly, he refrains from saying as much to Tim. Rather, he tosses back the covers himself and moves his legs over the side of the bed, completely ignoring the pain that lances through his chest from that much activity so early in the swing of things. Holding on to the bed post, he grips it with what little strength he has and pushes himself to his feet, nearly toppling back onto the bed with the unsteadiness in his body's balancing ability. Damn it!
Holding still until he feels more balanced, Leroy lets go of the bed post and shuffles around the bed to the bathroom, one unsteady step at a time. When he reaches his destination successfully, shuffling through the door enough that he can grasp it and shove it closed, he does just that with a huge dose of satisfaction as it shuts with a resounding **SLAM** At least he's not a complete invalid!
******NCIS******
The sound of the bathroom door slamming shut upstairs has Tim dropping the toast he's buttering and racing up the stairs in a panic, calling out for Leroy as he takes the stairs two at a time. "LEROY?"
Less than pleased when Tim bangs on the bathroom door on him, calling out to him louder than necessary, the older man snaps. "I'm not deaf!"
"Sorry!" Tim throws out as he struggles to regain both his regular breathing and his sense that all is actually okay. "Heard the door slam - thought you fell or something."
"Not an invalid either!"
The younger man sighs. "No. You're not. It's just...you know what...never mind." Tim's unsettled. He realizes he's doing exactly what he doesn't want to be doing - smothering Leroy. Unsure what to say on top of that, he retreats from the door so that the older man can have the privacy he'd obviously been after in the first place. Feeling less than happy with the way things are going so far this morning after a fairly okay evening last night, Tim takes the opportunity to give the room a sweeping glance, picking up the clothes and tossing them out into the hallway for taking downstairs. Fluffing Leroy's pillows up, he straightens the bedding and turns off the lamp since the daylight is enough through the curtained windows.
Without disturbing Leroy again, he scoops up the dirty clothes and heads back downstairs to salvage breakfast and bring it up to the bedroom. Hopefully he's not misjudging how that will go. He knows his love doesn't eat much for breakfast so he's keeping it light and small like he promised. But he is taking the time to fix something the older man always enjoys when he does manage to eat this early in the day.
******NCIS******
Feeling like a heel, but not possessing the ability to reach outside the misery he's wrapped up in enough to fix things with Tim, Leroy finishes in the head, feeling better once he's washed his face and splashed some water on his scalp. He makes the return shuffle around the bed, settling in the chair. He doesn't want to lie in that bed for another minute.
He'd slept miserably last night, waking what seemed like every five minutes - not processing why he was in bed alone on any of those occasions - only that he was cold, lonely and in pain. Every time he'd tried to think beyond that, he'd fallen back asleep first. He closes his eyes tiredly now, enjoying the peace and quiet along with the comfort of the chair that's most definitely not the lonely bed, although he does notice with a slice of appreciation just before he dozes off, that Tim has remade said bed.
******NCIS******
"Leroy! I know you said you aren't hungry but I made you your favorite! Figured you wouldn't be able to resist one of my blueberry pancakes." Tim announces as he climbs the stairs with the breakfast tray, wanting to give the man advance notice of his arrival so they wouldn't bump into each other in the nearly aligned doorways of the master bathroom and bedroom.
Inwardly, he prays that he doesn't screw anything else up this morning. The minute he steps into the room, Tim knows it's too late - he's just messed up again. He can see it in Leroy's bleary-eyed expression. He sets the breakfast tray down. "I'm sorry. You were dozing, weren't you?" Oh, God, I'm so sorry I woke you!"
"Told you I'm not hungry." Leroy sighs tiredly as he rakes a shaky hand through his hair and forces them both past this incredibly uncomfortable moment. He's not used to seeing Tim this tripped up and he's definitely not used to all of these less than good moments between them.
"I know." Tim stubbornly insists. "But, I also know you have to take this and you can't do that on an empty stomach. So, three bites of your favorite pancake and we'll call it even on that. Okay?"
"Then you'll leave me alone so I can sleep?" The older man grouses, sounding almost like a cranky toddler.
"As soon as you take your pills." Tim promises firmly but without any heat in his tone.
"Get on with it, then." Comes the still grumpy reply.
******NCIS******
Thirty-five minutes later, Tim's setting his alarm on his phone to go off thirty minutes before Leroy's next dose of pain relief is due and stretching out on the bed since the older man chose to sleep in the chair and has already been peacefully resting for a good twenty minutes now. Worn out himself, the young man is asleep almost instantly.
..dropped straight into a nightmare as terror seizes his heart, squeezing it tight at the sight in front of him now…Leroy is backed up against the wall of a building not five feet in front of him He tries to reach out to him, tries to move – to get to him, yet he can't move at all! His arms are bound and strung up over his head. Why can't he reach his love? Why is the older man just standing there? Doesn't he sense the danger he's in? Doesn't he see the gun in the madman's hand? Wait! Leroy! Get out of the way! Do something! Oh, God! Why can't I save him? He's right there! Why are you holding me? Don't hurt him! LEROY! LEROY!
"...im!"
His name crossing Leroy's lips in such an urgent tone yanks Tim from the vestiges of his tormented dream. Blinking a few times, he works to clear his vision before sitting up and scooting back against the headboard. He scrutinizes the older man for signs of pain or trouble but finds nothing Oddly enough, Leroy's no longer in the chair he'd fallen asleep in but actually sitting on the bed as if he'd been trying to reach Tim. Not understanding what's going on, Tim sighs as he rakes a hand haphazardly through his hair. More than concerned now, he asks the obvious question. "What's wrong?"
"Gonna ask you the same thing." Leroy replies, his tone matches Tim's while the older man remains in place waiting for a response.
Tim wipes a hand tiredly across his face. There's no way he's dumping what doesn't even make sense to him on the patient barely home from the hospital a day. Leroy's got enough to deal with. "Just a strange dream" He deflects from the reality just enough that Leroy won't worry. "Are you hungry?"
"I'm fine." The silver hair shines as the head it's on gently shakes in denial.
The older man's quick answer doesn't fool Tim. The man knows Tim's avoiding telling him the truth but isn't willing to push the issue. For that, the younger man is grateful. Tim quickly changes the subject onto a very important one. "Are you ready to change your bandages?" He asks with genuine concern. They haven't even touched on that until now. He's not sure how that whole part of Leroy's recuperation will go.
"Yeah, let's get it over with." The older man grouses. Between the frustration of having to choose between constant physical pain or less than solid sleep he's gotten since he's been home; the newly added irritation that Tim is now keeping something from him and the internal struggle to mentally keep it together without letting his emotions slip – the rage and the need to pound something into nothing until he feels better, Leroy is feeling pretty stretched to his limits. Given his choice, he'd push to get Tim to open up to him – but he doesn't have the inner strength to fight the younger man's defenses right now. That just makes the older man who loves him so much very grouchy.
In a flash, Tim's off the bed and over at the dresser retrieving the supplies already laid out in a sealed plastic bag. Taking everything out of the bag once he turns back to the bed, he shyly reminds his love of the need to be patient with him. "My first time doing this, so…"
"I know." Leroy answers calmly. "You'll do fine."
Tim smiles at the older man's faith in him. "Maybe you should sit down while I do this. Then I can take care of the other one without you having to do any more moving around?"
Leroy lowers himself down to the bed, he closes his eyes and lets Tim work unwatched, knowing it'll make it easier for the younger man that way.
Easing the first-aid scissors under the tape, the young man gently snips where he needs to so he can begin removing the old adhesive. he's come to the end of it where it first connects with the gauze padding. Knowing this part is going to hurt like hell, he hesitates.
"Just like a band-aid, Tim." Leroy reminds him, trying to brace himself for the upcoming pain he can't escape.
Nodding, Tim rips the tape off, the bandages coming away with the tape, unable to stop the wince that dances across his face before he can hide it or the hurt for the older man that he feels lancing through his own heart.
Having been through it before, Leroy manages the pain with stiffness and sheer will power. He's so silent that it scares Tim a little.
"Are you okay?"
Barely managing to get through it, Leroy gestures for Tim to keep going. He wants to have this done already.
"Okay." It's been hard, being petrified that any attempt he makes changing the wound dressing will cause Leroy loads of unnecessary physical pain. Actually tending to the wound now, the way he's been shown and told in the face of said fear, makes it that much worse. It's definitely more nerve wracking. In complete silence, Tim does what he can to keep his face expressionless but his concentration is on his hands and keeping them steady and as efficient a 1st time attempt can possibly be. He's too sensitive a soul though, not to inwardly cry at the sight that's met him underneath the bandages.
Tim feels the breath stall in his throat as his eyes take in the damage done to the man he loves, his fingertips gently try to soothe the wound. God, the pain Leroy must have felt in that moment! How close he'd come to losing this man he treasures so deeply! He closes his eyes against the wave of it all.
From beneath his half-closed eyelids, Leroy sees the moment the reality of his bullet entry wound hits Tim the hardest. The younger man's fingertips gently push on the outermost edges of his wound, as if trying to ease the pain there. His eyes close as if to ward off the pain he knows Leroy had to have experienced in that moment and his breathing hitches and quickens as if he's fighting to catch his next breath, the way Leroy had in that moment he'd first felt the bullet rip through him.
He's alive, man. Focus on that! Feel his heartbeat underneath these very same fingertips! Swallowing hard, Tim opens his eyes and continues on with taking care of the wound, not disturbing the silence with any conversation – or noticing the silent scrutiny from the man who loves him completely and is in equal parts, masking his own physical pain while picking up on Tim's inner anguish.
Leroy feels for his pain, but leaves the moment alone for what it is, Tim's need to process the reality up close and personal, no matter how much it hurts to realize what the man he loves so much, has just been through. Between the exhaustion hanging on from last night, the physical pain of having his bandages changed and the emotional upheaval he's watching the man he loves go through, Leroy's feeling raw, tired and increasingly impatient to have this done with. Still, for Tim's sake and his own, he uses up some of his allotment of patience now and sits still through it all.
The silence continues while the caretaker moves to tend to the exit wound on the patient's back. When Tim is finished with that, he tenderly places his hand on Leroy's good shoulder and squeezes in a silent show of support as he whispers. "All done." Gathering up his supplies, he puts them away and clears away the trash, carrying it all the way downstairs so he can discard it appropriately and immediately without letting it sit in the house at all.
******NCIS******
Watching the now silent Tim leave with the soiled bandages and knowing that the younger man is making sure they get taken completely out of the house so they won't be a reminder of what's being experienced - adds to the weight on Leroy's heart.
He knows Tim will leave him in peace until dinner time now. And he's thankful for that perception from his love. Sitting back down in the chair again, Leroy stretches out his legs and gets comfortable once more, this time letting sleep carry him away as soon as it finds him.
******NCIS******
Fifteen busy minutes later, Tim has tidied up the kitchen, started the laundry going and taken a few minutes to scoop up some fresh air in the backyard. Feeling a little more like himself by the time he comes back inside, he toes off his shoes and leaves them where they belong by the front door before heading upstairs to check on Leroy. This time, he'll do it silently because as quiet as things have been up here, it's a pretty safe bet that the older man has finally caught a good nap and there's no way Tim's disturbing that.
Reaching the bedroom, he stops in the doorway as he takes in the sight in front of him. Leroy – the man he loves with all his heart – finally at peace as he sleeps in the chair. Tim shivers. It's a little drafty in here. Going back to the living room, he picks up the light bedspread that has been sitting on the bed downstairs unused – and returns to the bedroom, gently draping it over the sleeping man before silently slipping from the room once more.
He won't be taking any more naps in the same room as Leroy, that's for sure. The last thing the patient needs is to have his rest disturbed by the crazy stuff filling Tim's dreams these days. He returns to the living room and takes advantage of the comfortable bed. He's in need of a nap himself and with dinner time not very far away, it'll have to be a quick one.
******NCIS******
When the time comes for Leroy's afternoon pain medication, Tim is awake and ready, heating up a light dinner of chicken noodle soup, compliments of Ziva's cooking. He carries it upstairs to the bedroom and sets the tray down on the dresser, the evening dose of medication already laid out.
Leroy looks at the tray and sees the medication. Frowning, he puts his foot down as he gestures with his hand towards the pills on the tray. "Makes me sleep too damn much. Don't want it."
Turning from the tray, Tim looks over at him. "Ok. But will you at least try to eat the soup? Ziva made it and you need to get your strength back."
"Yeah. Soup's fine." Leroy grudgingly admits as he ambles over to the corner of the bed closest to the tray, takes the bowl and sits down on the bed with it. Holding the bowl with one hand, he tries to feed himself with the other, nearly wearing it all in the process because his hand is very unsteady" Damn it!"
Taking the soup from him and setting it back on the tray, the younger man speaks up. "Hang on. I got something that will help."
Tim heads out of the room and returns a moment later with a pair of collapsible tv tables he'd found in the attic earlier in the month and cleaned up in case they ever needed or wanted to use them. Setting one of them up now, he puts it down in front of the older man and returns his soup to him, placing it down on the table where he can reach it for himself.
"Thanks." Leroy gruffly offers as he digs in, obviously finally feeling hungry.
"Be right back." Tim offers quietly as he sets up the other table before stepping out and returning a few minutes later with his own bowl of soup. Sitting down next to Leroy but not close enough to him to accidentally jar his injuries, Tim digs into his soup, both of them finally sharing a meal together again.
******NCIS******
The evening moves smoothly on into both of them reading a book in companionable silence. Intimacy looms all of a sudden, when Tim sees that Leroy's not really reading the book propped up in front of him and takes a wild stab at suggesting something.
"Leroy. Let me give you a sponge bath."
Setting the book down, Leroy looks over at Tim and smiles softly – the first one since he's been inside the house, home from the hospital. "I'd like that." He gives back in his own quiet, turned on voice.
Tim smiles back at him and offers his hand up from the bed. Together, they slowly trek to the bathroom where Tim gently propels his love to sit down on the closed commode, warmed with a towel of course.
With a tiny huff of laughter at the sight of the towel to keep his backside warm, Leroy sees where Tim is taking this literally which means the boxers need to come off. He's not ready to shuck them off like he used to – when he didn't have to worry about reopening wounds or falling on his ass. So, instead, he nods at Tim's silent look of query, letting him know he's got the all clear to take them off for him.
Tim's breath catches in his throat. He hasn't undressed Leroy since the last time they made love – over two weeks ago. There's never been a time when it didn't nearly send Tim's libido into orbit doing it, either. His bigger concern now is that he not accidentally hurt him or something, but that initial concern lays heavy on his mind, too. With a gentle smile, he gets down to business, reaching out and gently pulling the material down off those sexy hips.
Keeping his eyes glued to what his hands are doing, he's got the boxers down past Leroy's thighs before he crouches down to the man's knees. Taking one calf lovingly in hand at a time, he eases the boxers off first one carefully lifted and held leg and then the other. That done, he stands back up to help Leroy sit down on the commode – only to find himself drawn gently into a breath stealing kiss – with Leroy's hands waiting to cradle his face – like old times.
The dance – as choreographed and well known as it is between their tongues – never gets old and together, they waltz around each other with such silent communication and emotion, both are fighting for breath when they finally pull apart, their eyes glassy as their chests heave with the strain.
Tim's full of remorse as he sees the strain taking affect on Leroy. Without saying anything he gently urges him to sit, not moving his hands off the older man's shoulders.
Pulling Tim closer to him once more, Leroy obliges his caretaker and sits. Several moments go by as Tim pays attention to the older man's breathing, not moving away until it's calmer. With a tender smile, he steps over to the sink, turning the water on now.
"Feel okay?" Tim asks quietly while he runs the water, wanting it to warm up before he even gets any on the patient.
"Feel fine, Tim." Leroy offers calmly, his hands snaking out to grab hold of the younger man's hips and pulling him snug up against him, obviously wanting more.
Reminded of the time when Tim had held Leroy like this, so long ago, Tim's throat closes around the lump that's suddenly there. He lays his head down on top of Leroy's, the tenderness of the moment not lost on him. This is as close as they've been in two days.
Leroy feels it, the emotion Tim's tripping over in the moment. He's there, too. And it's intoxicating. He wants more of it and because he can't have more – it's a twist of the knife – feeling the pain in his chest and even in his back, since he's interrupted his normal breathing rhythm in the search for this passion.
Mentally angry that he's set them on this course they can't even stay on – he drops his hands from Tim's hips and says something completely unexpected, designed to douse the flames beginning to flare to life between them. "Gonna get in the tub. Don't have to get all wet to clean up."
Stung, Tim steps over to the tub and wordlessly fills it with the hot water he knows Leroy likes. As the water makes all the noise they need it to, nothing more is said. Tim doesn't know what he's done. But when the tub is filled where it is just high enough and Leroy has carefully stepped in and sat down, the silence between them nearly doubles in thickness and brings a wave of hurt with it. It's too much to overcome - no words can bridge the gap that's just opened up between them.
Leroy feels the wall going up between them but doesn't know what to do to get what they had back. Despite knowing deep down that he's doing what's best for the both of them, his heart is breaking. Right about now, he needs some defenses of his own. All he can think to do, is ask for some space. Quietly, he does just that. "I'll be fine, Tim."
Hearing the dismissal for what it is, Tim retreats from the room with a silent nod, closing the door quietly behind him.
******NCIS******
It's getting close to Leroy's next dose of medicine so Tim turns down the lights, pulls down the bedding, fluffs the man's pillows and sets out the pills and a bottle of water he knows Leroy will drink to take the medicine. Hurting and confused, he takes himself over to the window, staring out at the night beyond his world.
It's hit him – an epiphany of sorts. He's taking too much responsibility on his shoulders at once. And he is worrying over nothing. Penny was right. Tim is strong enough to deal with this. All Leroy needs now is someone to be there for him and help him change his bandages, not a mother hen.
He knows that Leroy's been trying to get him to dial back the mothering without actually saying the words. And maybe Tim has taken the older man's reactions and attempts to communicate the wrong way. After all, Tim never asked the man for his preferences in terms of the new bed downstairs. He simply tried to surprise him. Obviously, that plan backfired, but that didn't make it Leroy's fault.
Mentally, Tim curses. For all of his not wanting Leroy to worry about anything but getting better, He sure is causing the man stress anyway!
******NCIS******
Leroy finds himself feeling physically better after his partial bath, completed not only with some alone time but also under his own steam. Having to carefully manover his way out of the porclain tub, however, has taken more out of him than he'd thought about up front. Once he'd found himself facing that delimma, he'd struggled with it alone because he'd had no intention of calling Tim back in there for help after the way he'd sent him out of the room. Now he has to suffer the consequences, mainly the beginnings of his nerve endings screaming at him for relief. Jerking the bathroom door open, he's more than ready to call it a night. He'll happily take the damn medication so he can sleep!
Spying the meds and the turned down bed, he sighs contentedly. Thank God for Tim. Wait, where is Tim? Finding the younger man staring out beyond the window is disconcerting to say the least. In no way prepared to have any kind of heart –to-heart tonight, as well as being at a loss for words as to how to fix things, Leroy says nothing as he eases his aching, tired body down onto the bed and takes the medicine. Taking the time to get comfortably in the bed, he finally calls out to the love of his life still lost in his thoughts. "Tim?"
******NCIS******
"…im?"
Hearing his name called, Tim turns. Seeing the man he loves looking like he feels somewhat better, even if he does look like he wore himself out to get there, he smiles tenderly. "Hey."
"Took my medicine like a good patient." Leroy quips with a sloppy grin.
"So you're ready for a bedtime story then?" Tim teases in return.
Knowing where that parade can lead them, Leroy's quick to shake his head as he begins to slide on down where he can sleep more comfortably. "Too tired."
Tim frowns. He hopes the older man isn't upset at his teasing. But just in case, he'll put it away until further notice. Swallowing hard, he nods before he answers by asking the important question. "Need anything?"
"Just some sleep." Leroy quips as he closes his eyes without another word.
Silently leaving the room, Tim takes himself out to the stairwell and sits down on it, giving his love time to genuinely fall asleep while still staying close enough by to hear him if he calls out in need of something.
Waiting all of ten minutes, Tim gets back to his feet and peeps in on Leroy, a smile crossing his face at the sight of the older man at peace. With a quiet, "Love you, Leroy." Tim's gone from the room, this time retreating all the way down to the kitchen for another cup of coffee
It's been a hell of a day. With so many ups and downs, twists and turns, he's not even sure it's still Thursday. Taking his coffee, Tim retreats up to his office and closes the door. Sitting down at his desk – the desk that Leroy lovingly made for him – he cherishes the chance to catch his breath.
******NCIS******
"…ove you, Leroy." The uplifting words heard on the last whisp of consciousness, the sleeping man smiles as the nothingness carries him away in billowy softness.
