Comatose Cowboy
Chapter 3 - "You want me to WHAT?"
Faye parked her ship in the hangar and came into the main living area, half expecting to see the usual various forms sprawled around, but then quickly remembered that Ed and Ein were gone and Spike wouldn't be sleeping on the couch anytime soon. Faye found Jet in Spike's room, fiddling with tubes and talking to himself. He looked up sheepishly when he saw Faye.
"Hey! You did it, huh? Well, I'll never say you can't work without back up again, Faye. You really saved the day."
Faye said nothing, just watched Jet tenderly checking Spike's IV's. He carefully filled a syringe full of a clear liquid and proceeded to inject it into a clear tube coming from a bag of glucose, hanging over Spike's bed. Somehow, the exhilaration of her winning and catching the bounty by herself seemed to fade away rather quickly as she watched Spike struggle for breath. He had always seemed so invincible to her. He routinely took a bullet to the shoulder, arm or leg in stride, barely taking the time to get his stitches removed before going back out after bounties. Now, she wondered if she would ever even see him walk again. The thought was too depressing and it made her just want to go to her room and be alone.
That was fine with Jet, since taking care of Spike was a full time job, leaving him just enough time to cook and run the ship. He hadn't touched his bonsai trees since his own accident. They would have to wait. He was tending and shaping a different tree now.
As the days went by, Spike continued to hang on. He did a little better each day, although occasionally he would turn feverish as his body did battle with foreign intruders. According to orders, Jet kept track of fluid input and output, pulse, blood pressure and brainwave activity. Periodically, he would transmit the data to Dr. Lee, who would advise Jet of any adjustments to make.
After two weeks, Spike was off of the ventilator and breathing on his own. Jet disconnected the heart monitor so that they didn't have to listen to the constant beeping of Spike's heartbeat. In the early days, he had found it comforting, but Jet was now confident that Spike wasn't going to die. The question that burned in his brain was whether or not the Spike that awoke was worth the saving. Jet had already had several nightmares of a Spike that couldn't talk and drooled out of one side of his mouth. He also imagined conversations with a crippled Spike in a wheelchair where Spike acrimoniously tells Jet that he would rather have died than live this way. Jet hopes they have done the right thing.
After one month, Jet starts the physical therapy treatments. He stretches and massages Spikes arms and legs, trying to maintain the muscle tone there. He was thankful that Spike was in better than average shape to begin with. That should give him a better chance to walk sooner and make a full recovery.
One thing was really starting to bother Jet, though. Spike was starting to stink! Jet didn't have any problem with most of his tasks as Spike's nurse, but he just couldn't bring himself to bathe Spike. It was simply too intimate. He wanted to ask Faye to do it, but ever since she had come back with the money that time, she acted as if caring for the comatose patient was none of her concern. She spent all of her time taking long baths, filing her nails and chasing the smallest of bounties so that they could eat and buy fuel. She was loath to even step into Spike's room at all unless Jet specifically called her in to help him. Then as soon as she was finished, she would leave.
Jet just didn't get her. It was Faye that literally held a gun to his head to go rescue Spike in the first place on that fateful day. She was nearly hysterical when he was so damaged and near death. But now that Spike seemed like he would live, Faye wanted nothing to do with him. WOMEN! Jet would never understand them. He got himself all worked up over these thoughts and knocked hard at Faye's bedroom door.
"Faye, I need to talk to you!"
"What do you want?" Faye shot back. He sure sounded angry, she thought.
"Can I come in?"
"I guess."
Jet entered to find Faye lying on her bed with her back to him.
"I need you to give Spike a sponge bath."
"No way, Jet."
"What do you mean, no way? I've been the one doing everything for Spike. You just hang around in your room and do nothing."
"Yeah, that and earn the only money we have coming in right now," Faye said coldly, her back still to him.
"My leg is better. I could go out and work too if you would take care of Spike. Someone has to be here all of the time in case he wakes up."
"He may never wake up, Jet. And each day that goes by it seems less likely that the Spike we knew is ever going to return."
"That's not true. His brain activity has increased a lot lately. Faye, turn around and look at me."
Faye rolled over slowly.
"I wouldn't ask, but I just can't give the guy a bath. It's too personal. When he wakes up, I won't be able to look him in the eye. I really need you to step up to the plate on this one."
Faye hated it when Jet begged. And she hated it all the more to know that he had probably wanted to ask her for days and needed to get himself all mad about it before he could work up the nerve. Jesus! Men! Faye would never get them.
At this point, she did not have the energy to fight with Jet. So she said, "Okay." She would give Spike a bath. He was unconscious, after all. And she made Jet promise that he would never tell Spike. It would be their little secret. Jet readily promised, because he couldn't imagine ever wanting to discuss the details of Spike's care with him at all. Better to leave it all unsaid. Jet felt pretty sure that Spike would want it that way, too.
Chapter 3 - "You want me to WHAT?"
Faye parked her ship in the hangar and came into the main living area, half expecting to see the usual various forms sprawled around, but then quickly remembered that Ed and Ein were gone and Spike wouldn't be sleeping on the couch anytime soon. Faye found Jet in Spike's room, fiddling with tubes and talking to himself. He looked up sheepishly when he saw Faye.
"Hey! You did it, huh? Well, I'll never say you can't work without back up again, Faye. You really saved the day."
Faye said nothing, just watched Jet tenderly checking Spike's IV's. He carefully filled a syringe full of a clear liquid and proceeded to inject it into a clear tube coming from a bag of glucose, hanging over Spike's bed. Somehow, the exhilaration of her winning and catching the bounty by herself seemed to fade away rather quickly as she watched Spike struggle for breath. He had always seemed so invincible to her. He routinely took a bullet to the shoulder, arm or leg in stride, barely taking the time to get his stitches removed before going back out after bounties. Now, she wondered if she would ever even see him walk again. The thought was too depressing and it made her just want to go to her room and be alone.
That was fine with Jet, since taking care of Spike was a full time job, leaving him just enough time to cook and run the ship. He hadn't touched his bonsai trees since his own accident. They would have to wait. He was tending and shaping a different tree now.
As the days went by, Spike continued to hang on. He did a little better each day, although occasionally he would turn feverish as his body did battle with foreign intruders. According to orders, Jet kept track of fluid input and output, pulse, blood pressure and brainwave activity. Periodically, he would transmit the data to Dr. Lee, who would advise Jet of any adjustments to make.
After two weeks, Spike was off of the ventilator and breathing on his own. Jet disconnected the heart monitor so that they didn't have to listen to the constant beeping of Spike's heartbeat. In the early days, he had found it comforting, but Jet was now confident that Spike wasn't going to die. The question that burned in his brain was whether or not the Spike that awoke was worth the saving. Jet had already had several nightmares of a Spike that couldn't talk and drooled out of one side of his mouth. He also imagined conversations with a crippled Spike in a wheelchair where Spike acrimoniously tells Jet that he would rather have died than live this way. Jet hopes they have done the right thing.
After one month, Jet starts the physical therapy treatments. He stretches and massages Spikes arms and legs, trying to maintain the muscle tone there. He was thankful that Spike was in better than average shape to begin with. That should give him a better chance to walk sooner and make a full recovery.
One thing was really starting to bother Jet, though. Spike was starting to stink! Jet didn't have any problem with most of his tasks as Spike's nurse, but he just couldn't bring himself to bathe Spike. It was simply too intimate. He wanted to ask Faye to do it, but ever since she had come back with the money that time, she acted as if caring for the comatose patient was none of her concern. She spent all of her time taking long baths, filing her nails and chasing the smallest of bounties so that they could eat and buy fuel. She was loath to even step into Spike's room at all unless Jet specifically called her in to help him. Then as soon as she was finished, she would leave.
Jet just didn't get her. It was Faye that literally held a gun to his head to go rescue Spike in the first place on that fateful day. She was nearly hysterical when he was so damaged and near death. But now that Spike seemed like he would live, Faye wanted nothing to do with him. WOMEN! Jet would never understand them. He got himself all worked up over these thoughts and knocked hard at Faye's bedroom door.
"Faye, I need to talk to you!"
"What do you want?" Faye shot back. He sure sounded angry, she thought.
"Can I come in?"
"I guess."
Jet entered to find Faye lying on her bed with her back to him.
"I need you to give Spike a sponge bath."
"No way, Jet."
"What do you mean, no way? I've been the one doing everything for Spike. You just hang around in your room and do nothing."
"Yeah, that and earn the only money we have coming in right now," Faye said coldly, her back still to him.
"My leg is better. I could go out and work too if you would take care of Spike. Someone has to be here all of the time in case he wakes up."
"He may never wake up, Jet. And each day that goes by it seems less likely that the Spike we knew is ever going to return."
"That's not true. His brain activity has increased a lot lately. Faye, turn around and look at me."
Faye rolled over slowly.
"I wouldn't ask, but I just can't give the guy a bath. It's too personal. When he wakes up, I won't be able to look him in the eye. I really need you to step up to the plate on this one."
Faye hated it when Jet begged. And she hated it all the more to know that he had probably wanted to ask her for days and needed to get himself all mad about it before he could work up the nerve. Jesus! Men! Faye would never get them.
At this point, she did not have the energy to fight with Jet. So she said, "Okay." She would give Spike a bath. He was unconscious, after all. And she made Jet promise that he would never tell Spike. It would be their little secret. Jet readily promised, because he couldn't imagine ever wanting to discuss the details of Spike's care with him at all. Better to leave it all unsaid. Jet felt pretty sure that Spike would want it that way, too.