Chapter Thirty Eight
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6th of November,
Oak-leaf Building,
Seattle Medical Rehabilitation Centre,
Seattle,
Washington,
.
Christian laid in bed and studied his burnt arm, doing the little exercises which the doctors had had him do the minute he was admitted into the Canadian hospital before being transferred to this Seattle Rehab institute. He could barely remember trying to touch his thumb with each finger tips because he'd been in a state of pain and drug induced delirium it felt. There wasn't an exact moment where he felt himself become aware of his reality. There was just a series of moments which felt too real to be dreams.
Now, weeks after the initial injury, Christian could only just touch his forefinger to his thumb and it was excruciatingly difficult to do. His pinkie could twitch and so could his thumb but a serious amount of effort went into making these simple and pathetic movements. It was infuriating, particularly when Ana was there to watch him fail.
"Fucking hell," he groaned and relaxed his muscles, looking at the mangled skin on his forearm. The skin graph had taken well but it was disgusting and unsightly. Just like his face.
When he'd first gotten the opportunity to study his face for himself, with a clear non sedated mind, he'd cried. The entire side of his cheek running down to his neck was red and scarred. The pain was gone, but the aggressive colouring had remained and the charred scar tissue had interfered with his facial hair follicles. It was all a fucking mess.
"Mr Grey."
Christian looked up and tried not to narrow his eyes. It wasn't Taylor's fault that his arm was fucked. It wasn't Ana's. It wasn't Teddy's. It wasn't the nurses or the doctors who'd been looking after him. It was the fault of a twisted brat who'd committed a murder which Ted had witnessed. However, all the pain and frustration and humiliation Christian was experiencing was making him lash out at the wrong people.
"Taylor."
He stopped his pathetic attempts of self-lead physiotherapy and looked towards the large bear like man stood under the door threshold, "I heard you told Nurse Kathy to 'Fuck off' today. And pushed her over."
Christian grumbled and nodded once, "She was patronising me."
Taylor rose an eyebrow and said nothing more, allowing himself into Christian's room and plopping his ass on the seat Ana usually took beside him. He was careful with his own arm which annoyed Christian; his fingers could twitch without any issues whatsoever and it was so unfair.
"How's therapy going?" Jason asked once he was settled.
"Have you been sent to speak to me?" Christian frowned, cutting to the chase, "Ana's spoken to you, hasn't she?"
"She's worried you're shutting yourself off; yes," Jason nodded, "But I'm asking to be polite."
"I'm not shutting off; everyone's crowding me. I'll get better in my own time. I just need…I just need a youtube video on how to do it. I don't need some ditzy nurse with tuna breath to act like my best friend and touch me," Christian growled, "She touched my chest, Taylor. To get me to walk a little straighter."
Jason nodded but said nothing, watching Christian curiously.
"And then when I told her to back off and no touch me she said I was being silly and laid her hand on my back as well as my chest," Christian continued to rambled, "It hurt. I don't think she realised it hurt more than my arm. And pushing her was the only way to get her away."
Jason nodded once more, running his hand through his orangey blonde hair before resting it on Christian's kneecap.
"If Physiotherapy means being touched then I'm not going through with it. I'll not manage," Christian sighed, slumping back against his pillows, "It's too fucking much. I feel-"
"Emasculated?" Jason interrupted Christian knowingly, fixing him with a look which was relatively reassuring, "I know how it feels. You're not the only person being patronised here and you don't see me pushing nurses."
"You've not seen the shit I have," Christian snapped, "When she touched me-"
"And you've not seen the shit I have," Jason interrupted and argued back, "You need to grow a pair right now or you wont get any better. And that's not fair to Ana."
Christian huffed and growled but knew Jason was right; which pissed him off all the more.
"You're not being emasculated. As much as it feels like you are. You're still the top dog, the alpha male," Jason pointed out, "You could cripple this entire institute financially and have every member of staff out on their asses. Just because you need the medical treatment now, doesn't mean you're less of a man. Far from it; you're more than a man. Burns are hell."
"You know about burns?" Christian spat.
"No; but I was in Desert Storm," Jason reminded Christian, "I've seen some pretty horrific injuries from my men as well as the enemies. You're doing well to keep moving your fingers. I can't imagine how fucking painful it must be."
"It doesn't hurt," Christian admitted, "The nerve endings are pretty much all gone. But it still…it still is painful, if that makes sense? And the muscles are still there. Some of them. But the effort to use them is excruciating. I don't think I'll ever have my arm function like this again and that's a difficult thought."
"Adapt, Improvise, Overcome," Jason said confidently, "That's the Marine Corps way."
"I don't think I can," Christian groaned, "I'm weak."
"You can't be weak. You're needed, by your family, by the entire country, to be strong and powerful," Jason reminded him, "And that's before we seek an audience with the Esposito family."
Christian's hackles raised at the mere mention of the Esposito name but he knew that Jason was right. For his family's safety, Christian needed to meet the Esposito family. He needed to speak to Slick's father, the man who was going on public television denouncing his son and to publically send his apologies to the Greys. Christian knew he needed to face this man and put an end to this whole clusterfuck of a nightmare.
"How's Gail?" he asked, wanting to change the flow of the conversation, his temper and frustrations ever so slightly subdued with the knowledge that he needed to be stronger.
"Exhausted," Jason shrugged, "We're speaking on the phone everyday but she's obviously just had surgery herself. We've decided that we'll support each other when need be but until then we're going to try and heal individually. I can't ask her to be here every day because that's selfish of me. Sophie comes a lot though. Mitt too."
"I'm glad Gail's tumour wasn't cancerous," Christian said, laying his good hand on the one Jason still hand on his knee.
"Not as glad as I am," Jason joked, smiling slightly, "We've got to get ourselves better so we can deal with this mess properly, right?"
"Right," Christian agreed, "Adapt, improvise, overcome. And no more pushing the nurses."
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The following morning…
7th of November,
Oak-leaf Building,
Seattle Medical Rehabilitation Centre,
Seattle,
Washington,
.
"Hey, Handsome," Ana smiled as she walked into Christian's room and found him sitting up and trying to use his bad arm to grasp the straw of his cola. He looked less agitated than he'd been yesterday, smiling softly up towards her, "How are you?"
"Better," he admitted, forgetting the straw and studying her, "You look lovely."
"I had an early night. I feel fighting fit today," she smiled, coming towards him and taking her seat by his bedside, "Teddy says 'Hi'. He's asking for you," she told him. Teddy couldn't walk long distances at all and he certainly couldn't make it to his father and Jason's building. Christian could and he'd seen Teddy a couple of times but not since Ted's medication was reduced and he'd become a lot more alert.
"Tomorrow I've a rest day from physio so I'm going to go have dinner with Ted," Christian promised, smiling at Ana once more. His attitude was a damn sight better than it had been the last few days. He seemed more himself which was great, "How have you been, Mrs Grey?"
"I've been great. The house is busy but Reynolds has just shipped off Craig and Mei to Paris," Ana chuckled, "So that's two less bodies. Phoebe's been great with helping the Sawyer girls…honestly, Christian. Our daughter is just the most caring person. Sawyer took ill through the night and she was the first to volunteer to clean up his mess, and she helped Danni with his sheets and pyjamas. He's okay but the doctor thinks he's picked up a tummy bug."
"Shit, and his jaw's wired," Christian grimaced.
"Being sick isn't pleasant at the best of times. At least he's only ingesting liquids so that's all he's bringing up," Ana chuckled, "Other than that, everyone's recovering on Camp Grey; the USA's strongest military base," she added with a grumble, "I can't help but think the German Shepherd dogs are overkill."
"It's just precautionary until we deal with this mess," Christian reminded Ana, and then he smiled again, "I love you. I'm sorry I've not been myself lately."
"It's fine, Christian," Ana assured him, "I've been worried, especially when Flynn called to say you'd pushed that nurse last night, but I'm glad to see you're feeling more yourself today."
"I spoke to Jason and we watched sport," Christian explained, "I think everything just got to me. I've apologised hundreds of times to that nurse and she's okay with it, apparently, but I'm not. I can't believe I lost it like that. I just…panicked. Everything was getting tight and I needed space but," he shook his head, "There's no excuse. I told Flynn that and Jason had words with me about my attitude that's set me on the right path so, you know, thank you for calling him last night."
"You're more than welcome, Christian," Ana assured, having known that when Christian was in such a hostile mood, Jason was usually the best man to defuse the situation. Ana could have tried but if Christian was angry and feeling weak and pathetic, having Ana there to witness it would only upset him more. He needed to sulk before he spoke to Ana rationally; that's how he'd always been.
"I know how hard it is to be unable to do the things you loved," Ana added, smiling at her husband, "But you're an amazing man, Christian. You're a survivor and I know you'll find a way to better your situation. Until then…"
Ana turned and walked back to the door, poking her head out where Phoebe was hiding in the corridor clutching a gift to her healing father.
"Come in, Sweetie," she cooed and Phoebe nodded, entering Christian's room with her present; a large box which was wrapped in beautiful bright stripy wrapping paper. Christian's eyes lit up with excitement and he sat up straighter.
"Phoebe…what is this?" he asked with a pleasant laugh, smiling widely.
"We know it's hard being here and we know you how much you love music when you're feeling stressed," Phoebe said, lifting the massive box up with Ana's help and laying it across Christian's lap, "It was my idea," she explained, "Mom and I went and bought it this morning before we came here."
Christian frowned and looked at Ana for permission to open his gift. She nodded, standing behind Phoebe and laying her arms around her daughter's neck loosely, "Go ahead, baby."
Slowly, trying to use his bad arm as well as his good arm, Christian began to tear through the paper.
"What on earth…" he frowned, reading the brand name, Yamaha, on the box. With more excitement and confusion he continued to open the parcel before he began laughing, "You guys bought me a keyboard?"
"There's no piano here," Ana explained, "And you're in a hospital so we thought you'd be able to put your headphones into this and play in silence during the night."
"…girls," Christian laughed, "Thank you so much. I love it."
"You're more than welcome," Ana nodded.
"We love you dad, and we're so proud of your recovery," Phoebe added, leaning over and kissing her dad on the forehead.
"It'll be a better form of physio for you too, I think," Ana explained, "You've always loved playing the piano. Maybe this will be a lot more motivating for you."
"Phoebe, Ana," Christian said again, utterly flabbergasted, "Thank you. God, you girls will make me cry," he joked, pulling Phoebe in for a hug before fixing Ana with two watery grey eyes, "I love you both so so much. Thank you."
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8th of November,
Sunflower Building,
Seattle Medical Rehabilitation Centre,
Seattle,
Washington,
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Teddy was exhausted but he felt someone's presence in his room. Slowly and with effort, he opened his eyes and studied his alarm clock. It was barely two in the afternoon but Teddy was utterly spent. There was not much he could do but be bedridden and sleep off his injury. It felt like decades ago since he was shot in the gut and time didn't seem to be passing him any quicker.
He shifted and tried to focus his sleepy eyes to the large male-shape blob stood on the sofa by Ted's television, tinkering with it. At first, he thought it was Jason and found himself becoming incredibly excited; his friend had returned to him. Because Taylor was a friend now, right? He and Ted were friends, they'd survived something terrible and now they were friends. Surely they were?
But to Teddy's shock, it wasn't Taylor sat before him. As his eyes got with the picture, Ted realised that his visitor was his former CPO, his former 'best friend'; Jonathan Ryans.
"Ryan?" Teddy coughed, his chest a little congested with mucus because he wasn't breathing as well because of the bruising and pain he was still fucking experiencing across his abdomen.
"Hey, Tedmeister," Ryan called, giving Teddy that familiar and adorable Boy Scout smile, "Sorry I didn't come sooner; I've only just started feeling up to moving around myself," he said, pointing to a neat scar on his throat, "I've been through the wars too."
"Ryan," Teddy choked then started to cry because….fuck.
The last thing he'd said to this man in person was 'You autistic retard, fuck off' and the man had been nothing but loyal and supportive of Teddy since he'd been in diapers. He was like a big brother to him, mom having preferred Teddy to have that sort of relationship with the security than what she and dad had with Jason and Sawyer; it felt 'more natural' to mom.
"I can't believe you came to see me," Teddy cried, wiping his eyes, "I can't believe it."
"Well I got your letter so I reckoned we were alright," Ryan shrugged, studying Teddy closely. He knew that Ryan often struggled to read social situations, as part of his autism. His memory and recall were perfect, he was single minded and determined, but picking the difference between sad and happy was often a challenge, "Your mom spoke to me about playing some games with you if you're feeling up to it?"
"Yes," Teddy gulped and tried to pull himself up a bit more, "What sort of games?"
"Well I brought my Playstation and just hooked it up while you were sleeping," Ryan explained, "I thought, that way, you could use a Bluetooth controller from your bed. I've brought a dongle too so we could go online as long as the nurses don't notice," he said, pointing to his rucksack, "I brought Call of Duty, MBL, GTA 5, Mountain Dew and M&M's. That sound okay with you?"
"Anyone of those is perfect," Teddy smiled, laughing softly, "Thanks, man."
"No worries, Tedmeister." Ryan smiled, handing him his remote before going to set up the game.