When You Least Expect It Chapter Five
A few days later
Marissa peeked her head in Ryan's hospital room late one afternoon. "You're awake," she said happily, pleased to find her boyfriend conscious and even sitting up a little more than the last time she saw him. Most of the nursing staff was pretty lax about letting her come and go as she pleased- she figured both Sandy and her mother, or more specifically her mother's "comments" about donations, had something to do with that- so she'd spent just about every spare moment she wasn't at school in the hospital. She was there for breakfast if she hadn't stayed the night, usually came on her lunch break, and generally came straight there from school in the afternoon. Ryan was asleep a lot of the time, but she didn't care. It was good for him to sleep; he needed to heal. As long as she could look at him and assure herself he was alive and as okay as he could be, she felt better.
"Hey," Ryan smiled faintly. The truth was, while the concussion and the pain meds made it easy for him to fall asleep, sometimes the pain of his injuries woke him back up. He'd been almost completely doped up the first couple days or so, but his head and his leg were killing him in particular right now. Still, he was too frustrated at feeling completely helpless and semi conscious most of the time; he'd wanted to sit up a little in an effort to feel like he was somewhat still part of the land of the living.
Marissa frowned a little as she came over to the bed; she could see the discomfort Ryan was trying- and failing- to hide in his blue eyes. "How're you feeling?" she asked, leaning down to brush her lips over his forehead.
"As well as can be expected," Ryan shrugged the question off. "How was school?"
Marissa eyed him and sighed inwardly. She'd known it wouldn't be easy for him to allow himself to be vulnerable and taken care of, but even when he was semi conscious it was like pulling teeth. She'd just have to be patient and keep working on it, she decided. "Boring as usual. School days suck when you're not there to make them more interesting," she teased playfully.
Ryan rolled his eyes but couldn't keep a small grin from emerging. "You went to school without me the first sixteen years of your life. I think you'll be okay for a few weeks," he said wryly, but couldn't deny the small thrill of pleasure at something so simple as the thought of her missing him in the middle of the day.
"That's what you think," Marissa shot back. "'But I have gathered all your assignments in the three classes we have together." She pulled a bunch of papers out of her bag.
"Hey!" Ryan protested weakly. "The only upside to this is I don't have to think about homework while I'm in the hospital with an injury."
Marissa laughed. "They're all done. I typed up what I could and put the answers to the stuff you'll need to write down on different pages; you can fill them in when you feel like it. This way when you really feel up to getting to your homework, you won't be so overwhelmed. Seth did your calculus homework, too. Just a little something that can be taken off your mind."
Ryan stared at the papers in her hand for a moment, a little overwhelmed. "You did all this for me?" he said, surprised and touched.
"No, I did it for the guy in the next room over," Marissa teased. "Of course I did it for you."
Ryan felt a full fledged grin coming across his face; the simple sweetness of the gesture almost made him forget about the pain in his head. "C'mere," he murmured, motioning her closer. Smiling widely, she leaned forward to kiss him full on the mouth. "Best- girlfriend- ever," he mumbled, punctuating each word with a kiss.
Marissa giggled. "I think I can safely say that's not a title I've ever had before now, so I'm glad."
"Mmm, you've gotten the award a couple times before," Ryan smiled lightly, trying to focus on her instead of the pounding in his head. Apparently, he couldn't fool Marissa.
"Headache?" she said gently, lifting her hand to ever so lightly run her fingers through his hair and over his forehead.
"Nothing I'm not used to right now," he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch. "That feels good."
"Do you want me to get a nurse?" she asked in concern.
"I'll be fine," Ryan dismissed. "Come here."
Hiding another exasperated sigh at his tough guy act, Marissa obeyed and crawled carefully into the bed next to him. "Have they talked to you at all about coming home?" she asked, taking his hand and entwining their fingers.
"Kinda vaguely; I think they just don't want to get my hopes up," he said tiredly. "I hope it's soon; I'm so sick of this place already."
"Getting better is the most important thing," Marissa reminded him gently. "But as long as it's safe, I want you back home too." She smiled playfully. "The pool house bed is much more spacious."
"That would be nice," Ryan smiled absently. The truth was, he WAS sick of the hospital and he DID want to go home, but it made him a little nervous as well. When he was home, he was going to have to face how far he had before he could be out of the woods and not needing to depend on everyone else. He guessed he'd just have to deal with that when he came.
Marissa awoke suddenly to a strange noise. It took her a minute to be aware of her surroundings; she'd fallen asleep with Ryan again and now it was the middle of the night. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up carefully and looked around. With a start, she realized Ryan was tossing and mumbling incoherently in his sleep. She couldn't understand what he was saying, but from the distressed expression on his face and the sweat beading his forehead, he seemed to be having a nightmare.
"Ryan?" she said gently, scared he was going to hurt himself if he tossed around too much. "Ryan, you need to wake up." She placed a hand on his shoulder and recoiled in surprise when he jerked and knocked it off. "Ryan!" she said a little more forcefully, close to going to get a nurse.
Ryan felt himself being suddenly, violently dragged into awareness from the nightmare he'd been having. Nothing that went on in the dream was clear; it was all bright flashing lights and loud screeching noises, oblivion, and then agonizing pain. The pain was the only thing he woke up with. The blinding pain in his head and chest in particular was overwhelming; he vaguely heard himself groan out loud. "God," he muttered, twisting in a dazed, confused attempt to get away from it all and sucking in his breath as an intense wave of nausea swept over him.
"Ryan?" he vaguely heard the voice in the background over the pounding in his head and distantly attributed it to Marissa.
"Feel sick," he gasped out.
Oh shit. Marissa blindly looked around for anything to help and saw a pan laying out on one of the side tables. Grabbing it, she tried to gently ease Ryan into enough of a seating position so he wouldn't choke if he got sick and put the pan under his head just in time for him to throw up. She winced sympathetically as he heaved, helplessly stroking his neck and rubbing his back with her free hand in a vain attempt to soothe him. When at last he seemed to be done, he leaned back against the pillows breathing heavily, wincing and holding his ribs.
"Baby, I'm going to get a doctor to help; I'll be right back, okay?" she said softly. He nodded slightly and she crawled off the bed, placing the pan back on the table and quickly going to find a nurse. Ten minutes later, Ryan had gotten more pain meds and appeared to somewhat more stable and comfortable.
"Did he hurt himself too badly?" Marissa asked Dr. Cobb anxiously in a low voice in the doorway, careful not to speak loud enough for Ryan to hear just in case.
The doctor shook his head. "No, he didn't do any real damage; he didn't set himself back or anything. Just had a hell of a lousy night; he won't feel much differently tomorrow morning than he did this morning."
Marissa sighed in relief; that was something. "Thank you," she said gratefully, smiling at the doctor before returning to the bed. Ryan was already looking distinctively zoned out the way he always did when the meds hit his system, but his eyes were still open and they focused on her, but only briefly before looking away.
"You can leave if you want," he muttered. "I'll probably be asleep for a long time within like fifteen minutes; I won't be much company."
For a second Marissa felt hurt; it was like he was dismissing her. Then she caught a flash of something in his eyes and realized it was shame. "I don't want to," Marissa said quietly, her heart aching for him. He wouldn't think twice about doing these things for her, she knew. But it was hard for him to accept this kind of help.
"I'm sorry," Ryan mumbled, feeling incredibly embarrassed even through the distant pain and more apparent fog of medication. "I shouldn't ask you to stay here if I'm just going to get sick practically on top of you."
"Hey." She touched his face lightly, forcing him to look into her eyes. "There is NOTHING to be sorry about. You can't help this. And you'd do it for me."
Ryan sighed; he couldn't argue that but it didn't make him feel any better about being so helpless. "I need to sleep," he said simply, effectively cutting off the conversation. He was caught between annoyance and relief when she simply took a seat next to him, but couldn't bring himself to make her feel bad so he let the relief win out and gave her a grateful smile before closing his eyes. The feel of her picking up his hand and kissing it was the last thing he remembered before drifting off.
Marissa simply sat and watched him for a long time, her heart growing increasingly heavy. She was grateful every second he survived that car accident, but sometimes she felt she let that profound relief overcome the knowledge that he still had a long way to go. She wasn't worried about that on her end or anything; she barely wanted him out of her sight at any rate. But they were just getting started and if his reaction tonight was any indication, she worried about how much he'd let her help him.