While in the waiting room, Derek kept himself occupied with a few magazines while Spencer sat there impatiently. He reached down, undoing the straps on his brace.
Derek raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
He sighed, taking off the brace and handing it to him. "As great as this thing is? I can't wear it during physical therapy. The whole point of it is to learn how to be independent and try working without it, which I find absolutely ridiculous. Come on, it was just eleven days ago I got shot in the leg saving somebody's life, I'd like to think I deserve a little bit of leeway here."
Derek smirked, setting the brace in his lap. "Shouldn't you be leaving your crutches in the waiting room, too?"
"Yeah, like I'm going to get up and completely fall on my ass, Derek."
Derek quickly covered up a laugh with a cough as Spencer was called in. Spencer pushed himself up, balancing on his crutches and limping into the office.
Spencer sat down on the table, hoping he could make it through this appointment without going through intense pain like he did the previous time. When his doctor walked in, he tried not to groan as he started talking to him.
"Okay, Spencer, can you try to bend your knee for me?"
He nodded slightly, taking a deep breath and putting his legs straight in front of him. He bit his lip, bending his knee as much as he possibly could. He squeezed his eyes shut when it sent a pain up his leg.
"Now back down."
Relieved, he bent it down, straightening it out. He repeated the action a few more times, and could only think of going home and relaxing with an ice pack later on.
When it came to the assisted walking, he attempted to push his pain back and think about something else, so the doctor wouldn't see him as weak and pull back on the exercises, erasing the progress he'd made. He had to admit, assisted walking was the most embarrassing thing to do. It made him feel dependent, which was the last possible thing he wanted to be.
"Is eight steps significant progress?" he asked, lying down on his stomach and crossing his arms, resting his head against them.
"Definitely, considering that most patients who have had this sort of damage to their leg only take about five at the second appointment."
He exhaled, relieved, as he felt the resistance band around his ankles.
"I need you to lift your leg as much as you can against the band."
He gave a slight nod, turning his head slightly and lifting his leg. He watched the doctor's face for some sort of reaction he could profile, and was disappointed when there was nothing.
"Roll over, please?" his doctor asked as he removed the band.
He rolled over, lying on his back, bending his right leg up.
"Very good." His doctor picked up his left leg, pushing it toward his head. "Any pain?"
He sighed, nodding. "A little bit, but it's not as bad as bending it."
His leg was set down again and he breathed a sigh of relief, happy that his appointment was finally over.
He pushed himself off the table, reaching over for his crutches and limping out to the waiting room. Derek took notice and grabbed his brace, walking over to him. Spencer took a seat while Derek fastened it onto his leg, looking up at him.
"How are you feeling?"
Spencer sighed, leaning in and resting his forehead against Derek's. "Do we have ice at home?"
"I can pick up more on the way."
He nodded, holding out his hand to Derek. He took it, pulling him up and helping him onto his crutches.
"Anything else?"
"If you happen to be in the grocery store and come across a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream…"
Derek smirked. "Consider it done."
Spencer sat in the car while Derek ran into the grocery store. He had just found a radio station he was satisfied with when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He reached in, grabbing it and answering.
"Hello?"
"Hey there, sweetie. How's the leg?"
He leaned back. "Still a bit tender. I pushed myself further than I should have at physical therapy today, but my doctor did notice that I made significant progress, so I guess that's something?"
"You're going to relax tonight, right? I don't want you letting Clooney out, or going to the kitchen for a snack, or getting a book from the living room or anything, do you hear me?"
He smiled. "I promise. I've already made Derek agree to making dinner tonight and doing all the work around the house so I could relax. All I'm going to do tonight is eat dinner, take a bubble bath, and get some sleep."
"A bubble bath, you say?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, a bubble bath. As in, you know, a bath with bubbles in it?"
"Oh, don't worry, sweet cheeks, I heard that part. I didn't hear if you'd be enjoying said bubble bath alone."
He blushed slightly. "Whether I have company in my own bathtub is none of your business, but for the record, I was planning on taking it alone."
"Was? As in past tense?"
"As in none of your business. I'll see you tomorrow?"
"You shall. Let me know if that pesky little leg is still bothering you and I'll have something to make it feel better."
"You're the best, Garcia."
"Trust me, Boy Wonder, I know."
He hung up the phone as Derek set several bags in the backseat.
"What did you get?"
Derek smiled. "Enough ice to last an Eskimo through the winter and a half gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream, as well as enough coffee to last through a zombie apocalypse."
"…If there was a zombie apocalypse, why would we need coffee? You wouldn't be able to run from them forever, and even if you tried-"
Derek shook his head, leaning over and kissing Spencer.
Spencer pulled back, smacking his lips together. "So, enough coffee for a zombie apocalypse? Great."
He laughed softly. "I thought so."
After arriving home, Spencer turned to Derek. "Do you mind starting dinner while I try to relax?"
"No problem. I know if I said no, I'd have Garcia on my ass before I could even blink."
He smiled, patting Derek's cheek. "Good boy." He limped to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Derek shook his head, unlocking the back door and allowing Clooney to run into the yard. While he was looking through the cabinets for pasta, his phone started ringing. He reached in his pocket, grabbing it and answering.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Derek."
He paused. "Mom, did Penelope call you?"
"Yes she did. I think my son's boyfriend getting shot is something I should be informed of."
He rolled his eyes. "Sorry, ma. From now on when crazy unsubs decide to shoot in the general area of Spencer, I'll let you know."
"That's all I ask. How's he doing?"
He grabbed a box of pasta, putting it into the boiling water. "He's good. A lot better than he was, really. He actually ended up taking a bullet for someone, and instead of worrying about the injury, he talked down the unsub."
"Oh, did he?"
He smirked. "Oh, I know that tone of voice all too well from my teenage years. Trust me, the team's already chewed him out for this one."
"So he's okay?"
"He had a few hours of surgery to repair the damage to his leg, and he's going to be on crutches for quite some time, but he's healing up. At first he had trouble accepting the fact he couldn't do everything for himself. Luckily he's finally learned how to ask for help when he needs it instead of trying to do it all like a pain in the ass."
"I heard that, Derek!" Spencer called from the bathroom.
He laughed softly. "And he's making progress at physical therapy. Slowly, but he is."
"That's good. Is he still at work?"
"Yeah, he just got back this morning after a week off with his injury, and had an appointment at physical therapy this afternoon."
"Send him some well wishes from me, will you?"
"Of course. I'm sure some of your peach cobbler would cheer him up."
"Don't listen to him, Fran, peach cobbler is his favorite. I'm more a fan of your lemon bars!"
"Well, let him know some of those will be on their way."
"I will. Love you, momma."
"Love you too. Let Spencer know I love him too."
He smiled. "Will do."
He hung up, setting his phone on the counter and draining the pasta.
"Spencer, two minutes to dinner."
He heard a sigh. "Derek?"
"Yeah, Pretty Boy?"
"I need help."
Derek set the pot down, walking to the bathroom. "What's up?"
Spencer held up his hand. "I can't get out without putting pressure on my leg or somehow hurting myself."
"Do you know this from experience, or did it dawn on you all on your own?"
Spencer mimicked him. "I know it from 'Derek Morgan, shut up and help me up'."
He smirked, bending down and wrapping his arms around Spencer.
"Derek, I swear to God, do not lift me out of this bathtub or-"
"Or what?" Derek asked, picking him up.
Spencer rolled his eyes as Derek set him down, wrapping a towel around him. "Just remember your own words, Derek. Paybacks are a bitch."
"I'm sure. Do you need any more help, or-"
"I've got it from here. Go let Clooney in and finish dinner."
He kissed the top of Spencer's head before walking out.
Spencer limped into the kitchen a few minutes later, taking his seat.
"…No crutches?"
"I left them in the living room and I figured it was easier to limp out than have to call you to get them."
"I could've grabbed them for you, I wouldn't have minded."
Spencer shook his head as Derek set the plate in front of him. "As much as I appreciate the gesture, I'm still slightly mad at you for physically lifting me out of the tub instead of just giving me a hand like I wanted."
Derek sat down, picking up his own fork. "How's it feeling?"
"It definitely doesn't feel good. Combine physical therapy with the twenty-six unassisted steps I just took and I feel like my leg might just fall off, though I know it's impossible."
"How about after dinner, I put you on the bed with your leg elevated and an ice pack? I'll pop in a Star Wars DVD and we'll have a quiet night in."
"I think that sounds amazing."
"Thought so. Mom's worried about you, and said she's sending some of her lemon bars."
Spencer smiled. "Fantastic. Maybe if I like you, I'll share."
"Is that so?"
He nodded, before cutting into his spaghetti. "Payback."
That night, they both sat up in bed. While watching the movie, Spencer was sure to bring up several trivia facts and slight inaccuracies. Derek looked down at Spencer's leg.
"How's it feeling?"
He sighed. "Okay, I guess? It's sore, of course, because of the physical therapy, and then the few steps I took to the kitchen earlier. I really should thank you for carrying me in here after dinner."
"Don't mention it. Does this earn me points for a lack of payback?"
He reached over, patting Derek's cheek. "It definitely helps."
"What about some medicinal cuddling?"
He smirked. "Now that will earn you major points." He reached down, grabbing the ice pack and setting it on his nightstand before pulling the pillow out from under his leg. He shifted slightly, lying back on the bed as Derek pulled the blankets up.
He wrapped his arms around the smaller man, kissing his forehead. "Need anything else, Pretty Boy?"
He shook his head slightly. "I'll be fine."