Paybacks
Chapter 32
*****
Hello faithful readers! Sorry it has taken so long for me to update this story! It's kinda strange. The first 31 "chapters" basically wrote themselves, but now all of a sudden I'm stuck with the task of THINKING! It was difficult, but hopefully it doesn't show :o)
PLUS, I had gotten so far into Bosco's head while writing my other stories I had a hard time getting out!
Now let the games begin. Please R/R. Thanks much :o)
*****
"Bosco let me help you with that."
"No."
"Bosco-"
"I can do it myself Faith!"
"No, you can't." She walked up to assist her partner.
Faith was getting tired of his stubborn act. Ever since his mom had stopped by to visit him a few days ago, and then left after only causing him more pain Bosco had been acting stranger than usual. If that was even possible. It was like he was trying to prove to everyone that he's tough, and capable of handling things on his own.
He had even started refusing to take his pain medication. Faith wasn't sure what he was trying to prove or to who, but she thought it was only going to hinder his recovery. She could see the pain in his eyes every time he took a deep breath or tried to make the slightest movement with his left arm.
"Let me help you."
"Fine," he sounded annoyed.
She took the t-shirt from him. "Now do you want your arm through the sleeve, or do you want to just leave it under the shirt?"
"I wanna walk outta here looking normal Faith; not like a one armed freak."
"Through the sleeve it is." Faith held the shirt up for him, and he attempted to lift his arms to put them through the sleeves. His right arm cooperated, but his left arm didn't.
"Owww, dammit." He quickly grabbed his left shoulder.
"You OK?" his partner asked. Her voice full of concern.
"Yeah," he hissed. "Just give me a sec." He sat down on the hospital bed, and tried to rub the pain out of his arm. After a short time he realized that wasn't helping. He took a deep breath. The pain the breath caused made him wince, but it took his mind off the pain in his arm. This was becoming an all too familiar cycle of pain for Boscorelli.
Faith watched her partner's face, and noticed him flinch. "Bos? You want something for the pain?"
He wordlessly shook his head no. She just frowned. "Ready to try this again? I've got a better way to do it."
"OK."
She proceeded to shimmy the shirt up Bosco's left arm, which was hanging at his side. Then when the material was around his shoulder she pulled the shirt over his head, and instructed him to put his right arm through the other sleeve. Faith stepped back to admire her work. "How's that?" she asked with a triumphant look on her face.
Bosco looked down at his shirt, and then at her. "Better, but now it's on backwards."
"Oops," she quickly glanced around the room. "Here, we'll put your sweatshirt on and no one will notice."
"Unbelievable," he shook his head and grinned. There was a twinkle in his eye. It was the first genuine smile Faith had seen from him in days.
Before Faith could get the sweatshirt on Bosco his doctor walked in. "Good morning. I see you're almost ready to leave."
Bosco nodded anxiously. He had been waiting for this day for what seemed like an eternity.
"OK then Officer Boscorelli. Here is a prescription for pain medication. I know you haven't been taking any lately, but I'm pretty sure you'll change your mind when you start physical therapy," he handed the slip of paper to Bosco, which the officer shoved into his pocket with no intention of having the prescription filled. "We have you scheduled for physical therapy three times a week. They'll be working on regaining movement of your left arm, and increasing your lung capacity. It is going to be a lot of hard work, so don't expect results overnight. You have a long road ahead of you."
Bosco looked down at the floor, and slowly nodded his head in understanding. This was hard to swallow. He was so used to being active. Now he was going to have to sit on the sidelines, and no one had been able to tell him how long his recovery would take. Everyone just said it would be *long*.
Then there was still the question of whether or not his left arm would recover fully. If not it looked like his career as a cop was over unless he wanted to ride a desk, and Maurice Boscorelli doesn't ride a desk. No. His recovery was going to be a fast one. He was determined.
"Alright, if you just sign right here you'll be on your way." As soon as the words were out of his mouth a nurse appeared with a wheelchair. "Tina will give you a lift to the—"
"I don't need a wheelchair. No way!"
"Sorry. Hospital policy," smiled Tina.
"Yeah, besides Bosco, they'd probably have to hook you up to oxygen before you got to the door," added Faith.
Bosco glared at her. "Whose side are you on?"
The doctor extended his hand to Bosco. "Officer Boscorelli. Good luck, and I'll see you in a couple of weeks for a check up. Take it easy. Don't push yourself too hard. It'll all come with time." Bosco shook the doctor's hand. As the doctor was walking out the door he stopped and turned back to Bosco. "Oh, did I mention no driving until your physical therapist gives you the OK?"
"What?! Why can't I drive?"
"It's just a precaution, and as soon as you regain some movement in your arm you can drive. But *not* until your therapist says so."
Bosco looked up at the ceiling. "God, can things get any worse?"
"By the way, did you realize your shirt is on backwards?"
Bosco pointed at Faith. "It's her fault."
Faith just laughed at him. "You ready to go?"
"Oh yeah."
"Then get in the wheelchair."
Bosco reluctantly sat in the wheelchair. He looked up at the nurse. "Tina, you think you could make this a quick ride? I don't want a lot of people seeing me in this thing."
She smiled at him, "Anything for you Officer Boscorelli."
Bosco looked at Faith and winked.
*****
"Man, it sure is good to be home," sighed Bosco as he plopped down on his couch. He was a little out of breath from climbing the stairs to his apartment.
Faith noticed his flushed face. "You doing OK? That was quite a hike for having just gotten out of the hospital. Perfect time for the elevator to be under repair."
"Ah, I usually take the stairs anyway."
"Yeah, but not after a punctured lung."
"True. I'll be fine though. Just need to relax for a little while."
"Bosco you sure you're going to be alright here by yourself? I could stay here with you, or you could stay with us. I just don't feel right about leaving you here alone."
"Faith I'll be fine."
"But what if you have trouble breathing? What if you fall? What if—"
"FAITH! I'll be fine. I'm a big boy. Besides, if I'm in serious trouble I'll call 9-1-1. OK?"
"Yeah. OK."
He put on a straight face. "What's the number for 9-1-1? I can't remember."
"What?" It took a second for her to realize what he asked. "AUGH! You're impossible!"
"I know, but I had you for a second."
"Alright smart ass—"
"Better to be a smart ass than a dumb ass."
"Don't push it Bos! Gee, you must be feeling better because you're back to cracking your lame jokes."
"Easy," he tried his best to act offended by the comment, but couldn't keep himself from smiling. "Yeah, getting out of the hospital does wonders."
"OK. I'm going to head home. Your fridge is stocked. You should have everything you need. Call me anytime if you need anything else, or if you just want to talk."
He nodded. "Thanks…for everything."
She smiled, and laughed inwardly at his words. For as long as they had known each other "thank you" never came easy for him. He could never look at her for the whole two seconds it took to say the words. He always nodded nervously, said "thanks" and then briefly explained what for. He was a unique individual. It was that uniqueness that she loved.
"Oh, Bos. I'll pick you up on Wednesday around 12:30 to take you to physical therapy."
"Alright. See ya."
"Bye. Call if you need anything."
*****
It was mid afternoon, and Bosco was bored out of his mind. He had been home from the hospital not quite five hours and couldn't find anything to keep himself entertained.
"Man this is worse than the hospital!"
At least there he had people constantly checking on him. Here he was alone. Which would normally make him happy, but today he felt like getting out. Going somewhere. As great as it was to be out of the hospital it sucked to be trapped in his small apartment.
"What am I going to do until I go back to work? I'm going to go crazy!"
He stood up, and headed for the door grabbing his keys off the kitchen counter. He fingered the key to his Mustang, and smiled mischievously. "Nobody'll know."
Chapter 32
*****
Hello faithful readers! Sorry it has taken so long for me to update this story! It's kinda strange. The first 31 "chapters" basically wrote themselves, but now all of a sudden I'm stuck with the task of THINKING! It was difficult, but hopefully it doesn't show :o)
PLUS, I had gotten so far into Bosco's head while writing my other stories I had a hard time getting out!
Now let the games begin. Please R/R. Thanks much :o)
*****
"Bosco let me help you with that."
"No."
"Bosco-"
"I can do it myself Faith!"
"No, you can't." She walked up to assist her partner.
Faith was getting tired of his stubborn act. Ever since his mom had stopped by to visit him a few days ago, and then left after only causing him more pain Bosco had been acting stranger than usual. If that was even possible. It was like he was trying to prove to everyone that he's tough, and capable of handling things on his own.
He had even started refusing to take his pain medication. Faith wasn't sure what he was trying to prove or to who, but she thought it was only going to hinder his recovery. She could see the pain in his eyes every time he took a deep breath or tried to make the slightest movement with his left arm.
"Let me help you."
"Fine," he sounded annoyed.
She took the t-shirt from him. "Now do you want your arm through the sleeve, or do you want to just leave it under the shirt?"
"I wanna walk outta here looking normal Faith; not like a one armed freak."
"Through the sleeve it is." Faith held the shirt up for him, and he attempted to lift his arms to put them through the sleeves. His right arm cooperated, but his left arm didn't.
"Owww, dammit." He quickly grabbed his left shoulder.
"You OK?" his partner asked. Her voice full of concern.
"Yeah," he hissed. "Just give me a sec." He sat down on the hospital bed, and tried to rub the pain out of his arm. After a short time he realized that wasn't helping. He took a deep breath. The pain the breath caused made him wince, but it took his mind off the pain in his arm. This was becoming an all too familiar cycle of pain for Boscorelli.
Faith watched her partner's face, and noticed him flinch. "Bos? You want something for the pain?"
He wordlessly shook his head no. She just frowned. "Ready to try this again? I've got a better way to do it."
"OK."
She proceeded to shimmy the shirt up Bosco's left arm, which was hanging at his side. Then when the material was around his shoulder she pulled the shirt over his head, and instructed him to put his right arm through the other sleeve. Faith stepped back to admire her work. "How's that?" she asked with a triumphant look on her face.
Bosco looked down at his shirt, and then at her. "Better, but now it's on backwards."
"Oops," she quickly glanced around the room. "Here, we'll put your sweatshirt on and no one will notice."
"Unbelievable," he shook his head and grinned. There was a twinkle in his eye. It was the first genuine smile Faith had seen from him in days.
Before Faith could get the sweatshirt on Bosco his doctor walked in. "Good morning. I see you're almost ready to leave."
Bosco nodded anxiously. He had been waiting for this day for what seemed like an eternity.
"OK then Officer Boscorelli. Here is a prescription for pain medication. I know you haven't been taking any lately, but I'm pretty sure you'll change your mind when you start physical therapy," he handed the slip of paper to Bosco, which the officer shoved into his pocket with no intention of having the prescription filled. "We have you scheduled for physical therapy three times a week. They'll be working on regaining movement of your left arm, and increasing your lung capacity. It is going to be a lot of hard work, so don't expect results overnight. You have a long road ahead of you."
Bosco looked down at the floor, and slowly nodded his head in understanding. This was hard to swallow. He was so used to being active. Now he was going to have to sit on the sidelines, and no one had been able to tell him how long his recovery would take. Everyone just said it would be *long*.
Then there was still the question of whether or not his left arm would recover fully. If not it looked like his career as a cop was over unless he wanted to ride a desk, and Maurice Boscorelli doesn't ride a desk. No. His recovery was going to be a fast one. He was determined.
"Alright, if you just sign right here you'll be on your way." As soon as the words were out of his mouth a nurse appeared with a wheelchair. "Tina will give you a lift to the—"
"I don't need a wheelchair. No way!"
"Sorry. Hospital policy," smiled Tina.
"Yeah, besides Bosco, they'd probably have to hook you up to oxygen before you got to the door," added Faith.
Bosco glared at her. "Whose side are you on?"
The doctor extended his hand to Bosco. "Officer Boscorelli. Good luck, and I'll see you in a couple of weeks for a check up. Take it easy. Don't push yourself too hard. It'll all come with time." Bosco shook the doctor's hand. As the doctor was walking out the door he stopped and turned back to Bosco. "Oh, did I mention no driving until your physical therapist gives you the OK?"
"What?! Why can't I drive?"
"It's just a precaution, and as soon as you regain some movement in your arm you can drive. But *not* until your therapist says so."
Bosco looked up at the ceiling. "God, can things get any worse?"
"By the way, did you realize your shirt is on backwards?"
Bosco pointed at Faith. "It's her fault."
Faith just laughed at him. "You ready to go?"
"Oh yeah."
"Then get in the wheelchair."
Bosco reluctantly sat in the wheelchair. He looked up at the nurse. "Tina, you think you could make this a quick ride? I don't want a lot of people seeing me in this thing."
She smiled at him, "Anything for you Officer Boscorelli."
Bosco looked at Faith and winked.
*****
"Man, it sure is good to be home," sighed Bosco as he plopped down on his couch. He was a little out of breath from climbing the stairs to his apartment.
Faith noticed his flushed face. "You doing OK? That was quite a hike for having just gotten out of the hospital. Perfect time for the elevator to be under repair."
"Ah, I usually take the stairs anyway."
"Yeah, but not after a punctured lung."
"True. I'll be fine though. Just need to relax for a little while."
"Bosco you sure you're going to be alright here by yourself? I could stay here with you, or you could stay with us. I just don't feel right about leaving you here alone."
"Faith I'll be fine."
"But what if you have trouble breathing? What if you fall? What if—"
"FAITH! I'll be fine. I'm a big boy. Besides, if I'm in serious trouble I'll call 9-1-1. OK?"
"Yeah. OK."
He put on a straight face. "What's the number for 9-1-1? I can't remember."
"What?" It took a second for her to realize what he asked. "AUGH! You're impossible!"
"I know, but I had you for a second."
"Alright smart ass—"
"Better to be a smart ass than a dumb ass."
"Don't push it Bos! Gee, you must be feeling better because you're back to cracking your lame jokes."
"Easy," he tried his best to act offended by the comment, but couldn't keep himself from smiling. "Yeah, getting out of the hospital does wonders."
"OK. I'm going to head home. Your fridge is stocked. You should have everything you need. Call me anytime if you need anything else, or if you just want to talk."
He nodded. "Thanks…for everything."
She smiled, and laughed inwardly at his words. For as long as they had known each other "thank you" never came easy for him. He could never look at her for the whole two seconds it took to say the words. He always nodded nervously, said "thanks" and then briefly explained what for. He was a unique individual. It was that uniqueness that she loved.
"Oh, Bos. I'll pick you up on Wednesday around 12:30 to take you to physical therapy."
"Alright. See ya."
"Bye. Call if you need anything."
*****
It was mid afternoon, and Bosco was bored out of his mind. He had been home from the hospital not quite five hours and couldn't find anything to keep himself entertained.
"Man this is worse than the hospital!"
At least there he had people constantly checking on him. Here he was alone. Which would normally make him happy, but today he felt like getting out. Going somewhere. As great as it was to be out of the hospital it sucked to be trapped in his small apartment.
"What am I going to do until I go back to work? I'm going to go crazy!"
He stood up, and headed for the door grabbing his keys off the kitchen counter. He fingered the key to his Mustang, and smiled mischievously. "Nobody'll know."