Title: "Jean Havoc: A Work In Progress"
Author: havocmangawip
Editor: anat-astarte
Beta Team: leaf_the_invisible
Rating: R, this chapter is mostly exposition and for that I apologize. I'm sorry!
Disclaimer: I don't own it... I wish I did. I could BUY my own coffee house, and then my lattes would be free.
Warnings: As always, this work of fiction is as true to life and frank as possible. I'm not about to soft soap this. It could get messy.
Spoilers: As a precaution, I'm warning for up to and including the most recent scanlations of the manga.
Author's Indulgence:
Musical selections include: Coldplay – "Fix You" & "Viva la Vida", Dashboard Confessional covering R.E.M.'s "Everybody Hurts", Regina Spektor – "Better" , Sparklehorse featuring the Flaming Lips – "Go" and David Grey – "Hospital Food"
Chapter 52: Full Circle
I looked around and saw I'd done a number on the front end of the jeep. I cut the engine and sat there breathing heavily. That wasn't so bad. Once I'd patted down my legs to check for injury I gave myself the once over. I sighed in relief. I tasted blood in my mouth, but after checking myself out in the rear view mirror I assumed that I must have bitten my tongue. I'd seen worse, I'd be fine. I was about to pick up the bag of coffee that had spilled all over when I saw the blue and red flashing lights bearing down on me.
The next thing I knew I was upside down, hanging by my safety belt. Shards of broken glass covered everything. The passenger side door was so close to me I could touch it. Smoke filled the air and someone was screaming. I couldn't see through what remained of the windshield, now a web of cracks and caked with dirt. Even in the haze I noted there wasn't any blood on what was left of it. Someone screamed in agony close by.
"Help me! Someone please!" was all I could make out. The guy in the vehicle that had hit me was in trouble.
I tried my door, but after the rollover the jeep was pinned against something. It was instinct trying to get out and help. I didn't think things through. What could I have done to help even if I could get out?
"Hang in there man! Someone will come get you. Sit tight," I yelled, hoping he could hear me, hoping it would help him fight.
I heard more sirens, this time it sounded like an ambulance. I hoped they would get to the other guy in time. His voice seemed to be giving out. That couldn't be good.
A knock on the window startled me. I'd blacked out. There was a medic on the other side of the glass.
"Are you injured sir?" he yelled.
"The other guy sounds like he's in a bad way. I'm fine. Get him out first," I replied.
"We've got medics working on pulling him out of the wreck already. I'm going to need a crowbar to get you out. I'll be right back."
I patted down my legs again to make sure I hadn't been injured. I was pretty sure I'd gotten lucky. The pieces of my chair were nearly on top of me. The frame mangled, sticking out at odd angles and the wheels hopelessly out of round with broken spokes. I was working on an inventory of cuts and bruises when the medic came back.
He'd brought help with him. Soon I could feel the chill air when they tore the door off its hinges with a crowbar.
It took a few guys to get me out. Someone cut the seatbelt as two other men pulled me carefully from the wreck. They strapped me to a backboard. Before I got my bearings one of them started firing questions at me.
"What's your name sir?"
"Jean Havoc."
"What day is it?"
"Friday."
"Good," he replied, sounding optimistic.
Once I was no longer ass over teakettle and the blood that had rushed to my head returned to where it was supposed to be I felt dizzy. I wanted to sit up. I wanted to see the jeep. I wanted to see what had happened as the noise and chaos wasn't telling me much. I needed to be sure I wasn't bleeding out from an injury I couldn't feel. But I couldn't because they'd strapped me down. The lack of control of the situation... the inability to move on my own was making me anxious.
"How many fingers am I holding up?" the medic asked as he continued the field examination.
"Three. I'm fine. Could you get me off of this thing?" I replied.
"We'll get to that, but first I need to be sure you're ok. It's standard procedure after a wreck. You could have hurt your back or neck."
His reaction when I laughed was not what I was expecting. He probably chalked it up to stress after the crash.
He got out some equipment and took my vitals. They must have been good as he smiled. After that he used a penlight to check my pupils. It was all routine; I'd been through it before. Tall guys tend to bump their heads a lot on the obstacle course. I'd knocked myself out a few times during basic training. He went back into his bag and took out some gauze.
"What's that for?" I asked.
"You cut your forehead in the crash, it'll need stitches."
"Gotcha that's no big deal," I replied then asked again increasingly impatient, "Can you get me off this thing?"
"I still have to check a few more things out. We're going to have to take you in anyway for sutures. Try to hold still."
"Fine, just hurry. I'm sure you could be of more use to the other injured. I just banged my head. The doctor is just going to patch me up and send me home."
His radio crackled to life and a woman's voice said, "Dispatch here, what have you got?"
"I have an adult male involved in the M.V.A. on Amestris Parkway. Blood pressure and heart rate are elevated but stable. He has a laceration to the forehead, pupils are normal and reactive. Patient is lucid. No signs of shock. Checking reflexes for neuro..."
He moved out of my line of vision for a moment continuing the examination. When he came back to where I could see him his expression had changed. His brow was creased and he frowned.
"Sir, can you feel this?" he asked and I saw him move again, but couldn't see what he was doing and couldn't feel it either. That wasn't anything new to me.
"What about this?" he asked again, his pitch rising. My vision had started swimming. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.
"Wiggle your toes for me," he instructed, his having gone from relaxed but efficient to urgent.
The bump to my head slowed me down, the dizziness didn't help either, but I finally figured it out. He thought I'd injured my back in the wreck.
"I'm fine really. Could you just get my chair out of the jeep? I hate being stuck to this backboard. Let me sit up!" I protested sounding much less calm than I'd hoped to.
"We have a possible spinal cord injury here," the medic said into the radio.
"Yeah, old issue. I'm fine. Get my wheelchair-"
"The patient keeps insisting he's fine, and I do see a wheelchair. Re-checking vitals, he has to be in shock. Requesting clearance to transport to the nearest hospital..."
Four medics lifted the backboard and were about to put me into the ambulance when a wave of nausea and dizziness came over me.
"Damn it let me up! I gotta puke!"
They tipped the board to the side just in time as I began to heave. Then I must have blacked out again. I could hear the sirens wail as I faded in and out.
I came to again as the medics were unloading the rig. They were met by people who I assumed were doctors, judging by the white coats. I could see ceiling tiles and overhead lights flashing by over my head. I felt sick. Finally the stretcher stopped and they transferred the backboard onto a gurney in the middle of a green tile-lined room. The bright light coming from above me was blinding. I closed my eyes tightly so I wouldn't puke again.
After being disoriented for what seemed like forever a doctor addressed me, "You are at Central Military Hospital and we're going to take care of you."
I hadn't been able to communicate clearly with the medics. I was panicked and dizzy. I was marginally better now. I knew it was important that the doctors have as much information as possible. It was hard to put the words together but finally I said, "Please... page Jim Bruno in Rehabilitation. My name is Jean Havoc, look up my records."
I'd given up on being untied anytime soon. A better strategy was to comply and hope they could find Jim. They'd listen to him.
The doctor, one that hadn't treated me before, took my vitals and started working me up. Midway through he said, "The medics told me you have an existing condition that requires the use of a wheelchair. Is that correct?"
I tried nodding, but with my neck immobilized that wouldn't work. The doctor waited patiently for me to answer.
"I'm paralyzed from the waist down, so the backboard isn't necessary," I replied.
"As soon as we're sure you didn't sustain additional damage to your spine and have ruled out internal injuries and broken bones below your sensation level I can take you off."
Then the doctor and his staff sprang into action, inserting an IV which the doctor assured me was standard procedure when I objected.
He began barking orders to the staff, "Have radiology rule out skull fracture. Get a C-spine and lower extremities film as well. We're not taking any chances today."
They sent me for x-rays, after they took vial after vial of blood. After what seemed like forever they finally unfastened the belts tying me to the backboard.
The nurses helped me sit up, then the doctor returned and said, "The good news is that you didn't break any bones and you have no internal injuries. The bad news is that you bruised a few ribs and have a concussion. After I close the cut on your forehead I'm going have you admitted overnight for observation."
That was the last thing I wanted to hear and this was the last place I wanted to be.
"Do you really have to do that?" I pleaded. "I can take care of myself. I've spent enough time in this place."
The doctor nodded and then said, "I skimmed your medical records and there are a lot of them. You'll be admitted overnight as a precaution."
"Did you get in touch with Jim Bruno?" I asked hopefully. He'd get me out of here.
"I did," he answered. "He says he'll need time to arrange for a loaner chair and transport. He also told me to tell you he thinks you should stay put, at least for tonight."
That traitor!
"But my chair is in the jeep; can't someone just go get it?"
He shook his head, his expression grim.
"So both the jeep and my wheelchair are totaled? Doesn't that beat all? I went out to buy a pound of coffee and a pack of cigarettes and I end up in the last place I wanted to be today."
"I'm sorry Mr. Havoc. They have a bed available on your old ward. The nurses were concerned, but I was told that they want you to bring them up to speed. You must be pretty popular," he said trying to sound upbeat. "Try to get some rest while you're there."
I was sleeping when Jim arrived. He was sitting in a chair next to the bed, reading a magazine. When he noticed I was awake he remarked, "You certainly made today memorable."
"This wasn't what I'd had in mind when I said I wanted to think things over. I definitely didn't need my memory refreshed on this place. It still smells the same and I bet the food is still lousy."
"You my friend deserve a plaque on the wall of this ward," he teased.
"What for most consecutive days admitted or frequency of admissions?" I quipped.
"Both, though I overheard the nurses in the break room and they say you're handsome as ever, even with stitches and a shiner."
"Oh goodie, that is just great. I knew about the stitches, but a black eye too? I'm glad the nurses like getting updates. In the future I think I'd prefer to just visit after a session. I'll send candy too if it keeps me out of here."
"So how are you feeling? Well enough to be a smart ass, but you are good at covering," he said, suddenly sounding serious.
"My head is spinning and throbbing worse than my first hangover. My ribs hurt, so don't crack any jokes. I'm pretty sure it hurts to laugh. I'm worried about my chair. The ER doc said it was totaled, along with the jeep... Winry is going to kill me. Two of her creations ruined in one fell swoop."
"The jeep is no more. It's at the scrap yard, gone to a better place. I got your stuff out of it and then dropped your chair off at the bike shop on my way here. The tech didn't look too hopeful. I salvaged what I could and called Winry. Even on the rush list she can't get here until Monday at the earliest. You're stuck with a loaner chair until then. She did promise not to hurt you."
"Give me some good news; there is good news, right? Did you track down Sciezka? Is she coming?"
"She's on her way here and knows you weren't critically injured so she's taking her time and bringing you supper," he replied when I started looking worried. "She knows your opinion of the cuisine here."
I sighed heavily and grimaced as it hurt to breathe deeply before saying, "Thanks Jim. The last thing I want is for her to worry."
"You're welcome. Do you need anything else before I leave?"
"Any chance you could get them to release me tonight? I don't want to sleep here tonight."
"Not a chance on that. When the pain meds wear off you can expect your ribs to hurt even more. Anything else?"
"If you can't get me out of here could you at least get me something to write with... helps me sort stuff out and some cigarettes?"
"The paper and pen I can do and I have your cigarettes on me. You can have one," he replied. "But then I expect you to rest."
I'd take Jim's advice after I had that cigarette. There was no ashtray on the bedside table and there wasn't one in the drawer either. I'd have to use the call button to contact the nurse's station. And then lay the charm on thick. Real thick.
A few minutes after I pressed the button one of the younger nurses came in to see what I needed. I recognized her from my first stay; she was the one who had given me the infamous first sponge bath. She smiled as she asked, "How can I help you Mr. Havoc?"
I held up my lone cigarette and grinned sheepishly.
"Old habits die hard. Let me guess, you need a light and an ashtray," she replied jovially.
"Please? It would go a long way toward improving a terrible day. I haven't had one since this morning."
She was suddenly keenly interested in my chart. It didn't look promising. Maybe I could make her budge. How much would be too much in the charm department?
"I'm so glad the doctor admitted me to this ward, if I have to stay overnight. You all take such good care of me."
"That's sweet of you to say but you know it's against hospital policy to allow patients to smoke on the ward. Colonel Mustang practically moved heaven and earth last time to get the Head Nurse to allow it."
"Please?" I asked again. "By the way, what is a pretty girl like you doing working on a Friday night? You should be out on the town."
"Come on, honey you know you shouldn't smoke in here," she replied flirtatiously.
Was she using my flirting against me?
"I know I shouldn't smoke, it's a filthy habit. That's why I'm only asking for one... or could you get me out of here so I can smoke on the terrace? Please, there's gotta be something you can do."
"No."
"Pretty please? C'mon sweetheart, I'm just asking for one."
"Well Mustang did pull some strings...but that was for your last visit... I'm not making any promises, but I'll see what I can do," she said before adding, "The charge nurse was right, I have witnessed it first hand. You are a horrible flirt, though you are one of my favorite patients. I'll be back soon."
"Thanks for trying to help me out with this."
Sciezka arrived before the nurse came back. She dropped her things in the chair and then cautiously leaned in for a kiss.
The nurse returned with an emesis basin and a book of matches as Sciezka was settling into the chair for visitors.
"Here's what you asked for Mr. Havoc," she said, a blush creeping across her cheeks.
Sciezka shook her head before teasing me saying, "I see you're up to your old tricks Jean."
"I'm behaving!" I protested preemptively.
"I hope that indulging his vices won't get you into any trouble. I'm Sciezka by the way."
After the nurse regained her composure she replied, "He can have one, no problem. I'll have to tell the girls that I'm the first to meet the future wife of our favorite patient."
"That you did," I said. "Thanks again."
She ducked out of the room quickly saying, "I'll just leave you two alone now. Let me know if you need anything else."
Sciezka began unpacking the contents of the hamper she'd brought with her and didn't comment further on the young and blushing nurse.
I asked Sciezka to pull the curtain before I lit my treasured prize, took a long drag, held it and then exhaled slowly.
"If I didn't know better I'd say you're in a good mood," Sciezka remarked.
"I'm so happy to see you and relieved that I can have a smoke. Today did not go as planned. I only went out to get coffee, just my luck, right?" I replied, trying not to complain too much.
She took my hand and her cheerful facade broke as she said, "You're lucky you aren't more seriously injured. I was so worried when Gracia finally tracked me down at the library. I couldn't believe you were fine once I saw the pictures in the paper. That was a horrific accident and here you are with barely a scratch on you... stitches and a black eye after a five car pile up? I had to see you to believe it."
"What I could see of it looked pretty bad. I'm sorry about worrying you with this and today..."
"I'm just relieved you're ok. I brought sandwiches. I wasn't sure you'd be up for more," she said, quickly changing the subject.
When we finished eating she cleared away the paper our sandwiches had been wrapped in and then sat back down. I yawned and she asked, "Do you want me to leave so you can get some more rest?"
"That's the last thing I want right now, give me a minute to get situated."
I checked the IV location to be sure I wouldn't snag it or the line when I moved, then slowly and carefully scooted to the edge of the bed. Once I was sure there was room for Sciezka I patted the empty spot next to me. She gingerly sat down before curling up next to me.
I woke up to the click of boots and my eyes snapped open. I must have tensed up because it startled Sciezka and she sat up abruptly. Mustang was standing in the doorway and she scrambled off the bed.
"Sorry to impose," he said before he continued. "Could I have a few minutes alone with you Jean?"
"I'll just go get some coffee in the cafeteria. Would either of you like anything?" Sciezka asked.
"It's getting late, you should head home. I'll be fine," I replied.
She took my hand and locked eyes with me, like she was asking if I was sure. I squeezed her hand and said, "I am sure that I'm sure. I'll see you in the morning."
I pulled her in for a kiss as I didn't think she'd initiate one in front of Roy.
"I love you," I whispered once we'd broken the kiss.
He sat down as soon as Sciezka left and remarked, "I hope I wasn't interrupting a moment."
"Roy, cut the crap. You didn't come here to make small talk. Who told you I was here?" I replied, indignant that he was once again checking up on me and meddling.
"Feury heard it over the shortwave radio earlier and brought it to my attention. I had him make some calls so Breda would calm down. As soon as he heard that there was a black jeep driven by a civilian involved in the pileup he panicked," he replied evenly.
"After making that many calls you must have discovered that I'm just fine. Some bumps and bruises, all superficial wounds."
He lowered his head before speaking again, "I needed to see with my own eyes that you were alright. Seems like we're back where we started, doesn't it?"
I saw the sadness in Roy's eyes, and heard the quieting in his voice.
It hurt to sit up, but I did it anyway. "Roy, look at me," I ordered sternly.
He looked up, startled by my tone of voice, his dark eyes wide.
"The only way today was even possible is because you saved my life a year ago. The only reason you interrupted something is because I'm healthy enough to be in a relationship. The only reason I was driving around Central was because you pushed and pulled every string imaginable so I could live independently."
He opened his mouth to speak but I put up a hand to stop him saying, "I'm not done yet! This has pissed me off for long enough. I know you love to wallow in your guilt, but not about this." He balled his fists but continued listening, "I signed on for everything willingly. You saved my life and it's a great one. When you go on this guilt trip, it makes me think maybe this life is less. That you pity me... do you pity me?"
He looked shocked at the accusation and then stammered, "Jean, no... I just... if I hadn't... "
"If you hadn't done any number of things the country would be overrun with monsters. Please just let this go. I wanted to spend today alone to think and maybe wallow a bit. I lost a lot that day. Everything that I used to think was important. But if anything had happened differently I wouldn't be with Sciezka. I hate it when you meddle and scheme, but thank you."
He turned his face away for a moment, smoothed his uniform and then said, "That was insubordinate Lieutenant Havoc."
That was more like the commanding officer I knew and had respected enough to follow.
"I'm retired. What are you going to do? Court-martial me?" I retorted.
"Point taken, though I did bring you a present," he offered.
"Hopefully not flowers or balloons, the sentiment is nice but I've had my fill of them in the last year. This room used to look like a florist's shop."
He pulled a pack of smokes out of his pocket and handed it to me.
"Thank you," I said as I took them and after lighting up said, "That's more like it."
"Anything I can do to make this stay easier on you?" he asked.
"Can you form metal using alchemy? Jim told me my chair is a mess and the earliest it'll get fixed is Monday. I detest the chairs they have here."
There he went looking uncomfortable again, "If that's my only problem after all this I'm lucky. It's probably for the best anyway. You know how bad I am at staying put and resting."
"Anything else?" he pressed.
"Do you have any information on what caused the chase?" I asked.
"I'll get Falman on that ASAP... any more requests?"
"Give Feury a noogie for me when you see him for being nosy and meddling. Please tell Breda to come to the house as soon as he gets over his hangover tomorrow. You are headed to the Cavalier next to give them your report, correct?"
"You are indeed correct," he replied. "You're almost as good as I am at predicting the next move. I'll have to remember that the next time we play chess. I'm with General Lockheed; your future is at the Academy."
He stood up to shake my hand before he left. I slapped it away playfully and said, "I think I deserve a hug at this point."
He leaned in carefully and gave me a perfunctory manly hug. I clapped him on the back and commented, "Well that's a start."
As he left he called over his shoulder, "Any other messages to relay to the guys?"
"Tell Breda he can stop crying into his stout and that I'm well enough to give you shit!"
Roy shook his head and chuckled. I was fairly certain that maybe, just maybe he could finally stop torturing himself over what had happened to me.
Visiting hours were nearly over by the time he left. I was relieved since even though I'd been out cold half the day I was still exhausted. Hopefully I wouldn't have any more surprise visitors.
It's cold and wet. Decay, must and ozone mingle to form a sinister stench. This laboratory has been out of use for a long time. The air is thick with gunpowder. The only light comes from emergency lamps and smoldering flames. I'm on the floor. I can't move. I try to push up on my arms to see what is going on, to escape. Each time I get a few inches off the ground I collapse again. My arms quake with the effort.
Why can't I get up?
The puddle under me is becoming warmer even as I'm shivering uncontrollably on the sodden floor.
Is that blood? Is it my blood?
I can't breathe. It feels like someone is sitting on my chest. Each breath I take shallower. It's increasingly difficult to keep my eyes open. My eyelids are so heavy, like they're being forced shut. Someone or something is tearing me to shreds. Lust is saying something to... to him, to someone. What's she saying? I can't make sense of it.
"Enjoy watching your subordinate bleed to death. You'll be joining him soon enough."
Mustang's calling to me. He's getting louder and louder. My lips are moving but no sound comes. I can't answer.
It hurts. Everything hurts. Oh, fuck, I failed! I'm sorry! Am I in hell?
He's rolling me onto my back. My flack jacket is off, then my shirt. His face hovers over mine, his features blurred. "Keep breathing. This is going to hurt. I'm sorry." He places his hands on my stomach. At first it feels warm. Then I'm on fire. All I can smell is charred flesh. It is putrid.
"Hang in there Havoc! I am ordering you to live! Do not die on me! Help is coming soon!"
Then it all goes black.
Soon I hear blaring sirens. It must be an ambulance. It feels like we're going fast. Every bump is agony. I hurt all over. People are shouting, a cacophony of voices impossible to understand.
Could they just stop? Please make it stop.
Finally the sirens have stopped. The road is smoother. I see bright lights in a long corridor. The pain is lessening. Now I'm numb all over. Must be a false alarm...
If they'd all just shut up now and let me sleep.
"He's lost a lot of blood. Ruptured spleen, collapsed lung, multiple stab wounds... prep an OR now. His BP is in the basement. We're going to lose him if the internal bleeding isn't stopped quickly. Hang another unit."
Bleach and soap, muffled and murmuring voices and dull pain comes next. The morphine haze makes it hard to focus once I open my eyes. I take a look around. I'm not dead.
I lived but I am not alive. Not anymore. Everything I ever was is gone. I will be stuck here forever.
Maybe this is hell.
Someone's shaking me. I flinch at the contact and brace for an attack.
"Mr. Havoc... Mr. Havoc can you hear me?"
I try to speak but the air around me is so heavy. I can't get a deep breath. It hurts. I gasp and pant.
"Mr. Havoc, Jean, wake up! You're dreaming. Wake up," a woman's voice said again.
I tried speaking again, but nothing came out. I opened my eyes and blinked at the brightness. Someone had turned on the lights. Once I focused I saw that the voice was coming from a woman in white. The sheets have twisted into a damp wrinkled mess. My fingers are still clutching them tightly.
When she saw that my eyes were open she asked, "Are you all right? I was doing rounds and I heard you talking in your sleep."
I swallowed hard before asking for water. I must have been doing more than just talking in my sleep if she could hear me from the hallway.
She poured a glass for me from the pitcher next to the bed and handed it to me. I drank deeply. Once I felt less parched I said, "Thanks for coming to check on me. I'm fine. Sorry to bother you."
She looked doubtful and then asked, "Is there anything I can get for you, a cold compress or more water? Your gown is soaked with perspiration. You didn't take a sleeping pill and you're due for a dose of pain medication."
"I don't want to trouble you..." I protest embarrassed at the attention I've drawn already.
The nurse smiled before replying, "It's not any trouble. Just tell me what will make you feel better."
"Yes ma'am," I replied, trying to be a compliant patient.
"The nurses I supervise said you are looking good. I tend to agree. Are you feeling that way for the most part?"
I considered her question carefully, more alert now before answering, "Most days are great. I get where I need and want to go. I'm busy with my girl, school and therapy... in that order. Days like today still get to me. Nothing like a hospital stay to remind me that my body is a damned full time job... sorry for cussing ma'am."
"Today would get the best of anyone," she said. "I'll be back soon with your meds and then take your vitals so nobody disturbs you until breakfast. You need your rest. As for the language, this is a military facility. I've heard far worse."
She returned quickly, helped me into a clean gown and fluffed the pillows behind me. She gave me a pill that she said would help me sleep with more cold water to wash it down. After she checked my blood pressure, pulse and took a look at my pupils she smoothed the blankets once more. She injected something into the IV line saying, "This is for the pain." I could feel it take effect almost immediately. Warmth spread through my body and the pain washed away.
As she turned to leave I said, "Could you leave the light on when you go? And thank you."
She notated my chart and then dimmed the lights, but left them on.
With the help of the drugs I slept through the rest of the night. I was groggy in the morning when Sciezka gently roused me. She stroked my arm as she cooed, "Wake up sleepy head. It's time to get up."
When I opened my eyes she was right there, smiling. She kissed me tenderly and asked, "Are you ready to go home?"
I nodded sleepily in reply and shut my eyes again. I wasn't quite ready to be awake and I knew there wouldn't be any coffee on my breakfast tray when it arrived.
"Did you have a rough night?" she asked, her voice wavering with concern.
That woke me up. I hated for her to worry, it was the last thing I wanted to happen.
I quickly rubbed the sleep from my eyes before answering, "I'm fine, I just didn't sleep well. I hate this place. Hard beds and scratchy sheets just don't cut it anymore and you weren't next to me."
That explanation seemed to appease her, "Well if that's all then we'll have to spring you as soon as we possibly can. Everything is ready at home to speed your recovery."
"You didn't have to do anything," I protested.
She leaned in for another kiss and said, "I didn't and no one else did either. Our schedules are clear all weekend and there are plenty of delivery menus. You aren't budging an inch from bed."
"I can deal with that, if you keep me company."
"Only if you behave..."
I was hoping Sciezka would do more "kissing it better" when a nurse arrived with my breakfast tray.
Sciezka stepped away from the bedside and stood near the doorway awkwardly.
"Doctor Knox will be in after you eat to perform a pre-release examination," the nurse announced in a clipped manner.
"Thank you," I replied. "For delivering breakfast and the good news."
Once the nurse left Sciezka sat down next to me and confessed, "I feel like I should go and sit in the corner after getting caught in the act like that."
"She was sort of frosty," I commented. "Could I join you in the corner?"
"You'd only get me into more trouble, since you can't seem to keep your hands to yourself any better than I can."
I picked at the powdered eggs and dry toast. My dream the night before had left me less than hungry. The food did the rest. When Doctor Knox came in I said, "Sciezka, could you please go down to the cafeteria and get me a cup of coffee?"
"Of course, do you want anything else? You barely touched your breakfast..." she replied. When I shook my head no she gave me a peck on the cheek and then left.
Doctor Knox took my vitals quickly, checked my pupils and then sat down to record his notes on my chart. He did so silently.
The suspense was killing me. Would I be released soon or not?
"So Doctor Knox, am I in the clear? Can I go home today?" I asked tentatively.
He cleared his throat before replying sounding gruff, "I'd rather you didn't. I think you should rest here for another day or so. Your chart says you had a rough night and woke up in a considerable amount of pain. That was just sleeping. How are you going to manage at home with a much larger and heavier chair than you are used to? Not to mention pain management methods."
I frowned and thought about his objections for a few moments. What would I do? The last thing I wanted was to burden Sciezka if I couldn't take care of myself. I was sure I could at least function as well as I had when I first stayed at Gracia's. I'd just have to slow down until Winry fixed my chair and my ribs healed.
"Well, what are your thoughts on my findings?" he asked insistently, looking cross.
"I'll just have to take it easy and rest up. If the pain gets too bad I'll take something. I'm used to it. As for how I slept last night, if I'd been in my own bed I'm sure it wouldn't have been as bad."
His brow furrowed as he stroked his beard, deep in thought and then he asked, "How so if you don't mind telling me?"
"I remembered more of what happened in the Third Lab... what it was like right after. Being here probably didn't help," I answered quietly.
Thankfully he dropped the subject and didn't press me for the details.
"If you're dead set on going home at least let me prescribe more powerful pain medication than you use regularly. I'll write up a slip for a stronger sedative as well, just in case. Will you require a visiting nurse to help out with your hygiene routine and bathing?"
My expression must have changed drastically and he added, "I'll take that as a no."
"That's right, I'm fine. This is just a bump in the road. I can handle it."
"Jim Bruno offered to drop by your house when his shift is over every day, until you are better. Will you at least make that concession?"
"I guess I'm going to have to, at least until I get the lightweight chair back. I'm not looking forward to using the loaner, and I'll be stuck at home."
"Fair enough, I'll write up your discharge papers. I still think you're stubborn. No matter, it is probably a good thing you are. Most other men would have given up a long time ago."
I grinned, not the reaction he'd expected, before saying, "Thanks for the compliment. I've had to be stubborn so I can catch up."
He removed the IV and other more embarrassing tubes before he left. I was glad to get that over with before Sciezka returned.
Soon after Doctor Knox left there was a knock at the door. Sciezka peered around the corner asking, "All clear?"
"That depends; do you have 'the package'?" I teased.
By now she was used to my wiseass use of military jargon and replied, "I have retrieved the package and evaded detection."
"Roger that, then the password," I prompted.
She sighed and then looking devious whispered, "I better not need one or Jacqueline is never getting access to confidential briefs again."
Man was she ever good. Too bad I was cooped up here and still laid up.
"That's enough soldier, c'mere and kiss me."
"That's better," she said as she set two cups of coffee on the nightstand before kissing me.
I changed into the sweats she'd brought for me to wear home and was grateful she'd brought a watch cap as well. I still had blood in my hair and my clothes from the accident were filthy. Julia would probably recommend burning them.
We were drinking our coffee and I was debating the merits of sneaking a cigarette when Jim arrived. He didn't come empty handed. He was pushing a clunky, antiquated wheelchair in front of him.
"Are you ready to get out of here?" he asked cheerfully.
"I'm more than ready, but not so eager to push that monstrosity around. Whose ailing grandmother did you steal it from?"
"It was the best I could get. Winry will have you raising hell on wheels in no time. She does say it's going to cost you."
"Tell me something I don't know already? She's worth every cen," I replied.
"I'll pass that along, maybe she'll try for an earlier train," Jim said.
Sciezka added, "I bet if we had Feury call her it might speed things along."
Jim looked shocked as he said, "I didn't know you could be so underhanded Sciezka."
"I've had great teachers. C'mon, let's get out of here," she said, clearly tickled by the compliment.
Getting from the hospital bed to the chair was going to be trickier than I had remembered. It didn't help that my ribs were tender. Finally after thinking it through I asked Jim for help. If I fell the doctors would want to keep me longer and that was not an option.
He caught me under the arms to help me get to the edge of the bed. Then he grabbed my legs, to take some of my weight and so I didn't bang them on the footrest. Sciezka gathered my belongings and we left. Jim pushed me and I wasn't in the condition to argue. On the way out we stopped at the pharmacy for the prescriptions Doctor Knox wrote. I had a feeling I'd need them.
I waited on the sidewalk smoking while Jim went to get the car. It was unseasonably cold and I shivered. It still felt good to be outside. A huge vehicle that I hadn't seen before pulled up and honked. This wasn't Jim's small sedan.
I turned to Sciezka and asked, "What is going on?"
"The trunk of Jim's car isn't big enough and Alex Louis was so kind to offer... "
I held my tongue as I had nothing nice to say. Instead I lit another cigarette off the first one and clutched the armrest with my free hand for dear life.
Sciezka placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. She could tell I was angry and that it wasn't her or anyone else, it was the circumstances.
Jim got out of the car, popped the trunk while Alex Louis held the door open for me without fanfare. He smiled and said, "It is a relief to see you are looking well after your ordeal."
I flicked my cigarette butt away before shaking his hand and quietly saying, "Thank you for helping out."
The chair's size didn't allow me to get close enough for an easy transfer. Jim approached me cautiously, since he could now easily read my moods. My mood was dark and getting worse by the second.
"So how do we get around this Jim?" I asked.
"It looks like the safest way would be for Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong to pick you up," Jim replied.
"You're kidding, right? There has to be some other way."
Jim sighed, shook his head before finally replying, "The sidewalk is slippery from the freezing rain last night and you're still in pain from the wreck. Please, just this once. It's all I could think of given the what we have to work with."
As much as it was the last thing I wanted to do, he was right. I just had to accept it. I was relieved that between the weather and it being the weekend the hospital wasn't busy.
"Fine Jim, may as well get it over with," I said relenting.
