Note about the story: I realize that Nate probably rooms in Peak 2, him being the king of that particular peak and all, but it was nicer for him to get straight 'home' and into bed without the complications of strong winds, cliffs, lifts,etc.
Second note: Okay, I finished it. Kept it a one-shot. Thanks for reading, it's all done now. I apologize if it seems like it just cuts off, but I didn't think it needed anything else. / I don't really have any ideas to work with for another fic just yet (though I want to finish my x-mas fic sometime before July), so please give me any suggestions. Thank you!
He was first place, the finish line in site. Well, almost in site. Nate Logan had just broken through the glass of the out-of-bounds sign in the final stretch of Snow Jam, and coming up on the pipe that would take him over the bridge to the ice cave, then the finish line.
Victory was sweet.
He sped along the pipe, prewinding for a back flip. He counted down the seconds in his head. 'Three, two, one, launch!'
Pulling his board and body back, he flipped backwards through the air. One flip, and another, then icy cool snow beneath his board. Perfection. "Corn silk smooth!"
'Or not' was his afterthought; the board slipping forward under him, his body whipping out behind it. Whiplash, to be exact, or something like it. A small sharp paint from his lower back followed. 'Bone check...'
Nate slid through the finish line trying not to grimace, putting a hand on his back when he came to a stop. Miraculously, he managed the mountainous climb to the winners' podium and a small prayer of thanks that it was the final heat.
Fortunately, the gondola ride down the mountain was a bit easier. Leaning against the cool metal wall, feet propped up and crossed on the bench, Nate rubbed his hand across his back. He wouldn't believe that he threw it out; he wasn't old, he hadn't even reached thirty. The thought of ignoring it and just keep racing went through his mind, but a sudden twinge of pain quickly vanquished that idea from his head. He'd have to go get it looked at, which was something he did not want to consider doing.
The gondola neared the bottom of the mountain and Nate jumped out, not bothering to hold back a wince as it was probably too dark for anyone to see him, anyway. He retreated to the Green Station Lodge, making a hasty getaway to his rented room. He dumped his gear on the floor and the check for his winnings (too bad they couldn't pay him in cash) on the bedside desk. He quickly shed his large brown jacket and long-sleeved cotton shirt, walking gingerly to the bathroom mirror.
Upon close inspection, Nate found nothing apparently wrong from the outside with his back besides a darkish patch of skin about the size of his wrist the he suspected to be a bruise, which was odd, because there was no way he could have broken anything and still be walking around. Maybe a good night's sleep would do the trick.
'Or not,' Nate found himself thinking again. He never thought that getting out of bed could be so difficult, or hurt so much. After the painstaking labor of getting out of bed and dressing himself ended, he ambled down the stairs to the area of the lodge that was shared by the many competitors, who all had a room rented in that lodge or another one on another peak. He promptly decided that he wasn't hungry enough for any sort of breakfast and settled himself in on the overstuffed sofa in the lounge. Remote in hand, he prepared for a day of rest and relaxation- or, more prefferably, rest and recuperation.
Unfortunately, a few of Nate's fellow lodgers didn't agree on the R & R part of his morning plans.
"Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh hahahahahahaaaaaaa!"
A high-pitched voice came ricocheting through the hallways, small footsteps scurrying towards the room Nate was lounging in, heavier footsteps following. Point seven seconds after the yell ended, a small blonde streak burst into the room, an angry and very scantily dressed Elise running after him. Nate couldn't hold back a sigh.
"Hahahahahaha! Elise's running around the lodge in her pajamas! Ahahahaha!"
"YOU LITTLE BRAT, I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS! GIVE ME BACK MY BRA!"
Nate was on verge of putting a heavy pillow over his head and going into "ignore" mode (despite the sudden urge to continue staring at Elise in all her PJ glory; short flannel shorts and a matching top) when Griff decided that Nate himself would be a great shield and performed a flawless 360 Indy Air right onto Nate's body.
A familiar pain shot up Nate's back, going all the way up his spine and into his neck. His fists clenched, back straightened, face twisted into a grimace.
"Nate! Save me from the witch! Hahahaha." Griff continued on oblivious, but Elise noticed something wrong.
"Woah, slow down there, freak." Elise pulled the tiny terror off Nate and dropped him unceremoniously to the floor, causing the tyke to drop her very personal belonging. "Nate doesn't look too hot."
Nate breathed out in relief as the child terror was removed from his body, the pain ebbing away at surprising speed.
"Thanks Riggs..." He mumbled, hoping they wouldn't press matters further. Figuratively or literally.
To no avail.
"What's with you, anyway, Logan?" Elise seated herself on the coffee table infront of him, holding her bra balled up tightly behind her back.
Griff dropped to his knees, leaning against the couch. "Did I hurt you, Nate?" He sounded more concerned than either twenty-six year old could ever remember him being in the past.
"Ah, it wasn't you, kid, I just played by the horns and had to pay. Bad landing on the slopes."
Elise didn't stop to wonder about how Nate would tell Griff anything whenever he asked for it (must be a paternal thing, she guessed) and got straight to the point.
"Logan, if it hurts that much you should get it checked out."
Nate sighed again, this time in defeat. "I was hoping it would be better by today..."
"By today? How long have you been hurt?" Elise crossed her legs in an 'I'm not leaving until you spill the beans' attitude.
"Only since last night, when I came up with gold and showed Smack Fraser who's the real boss of Peak One." Nate couldn't hide the smugness in his voice.
It was Elise's turn to sigh. "Okay, I'll be dressed in ten minutes, meet me at Zoe's car. She won't miss it for a couple hours." Sniggering.
"Where are we going?" Nate propped himself up on his elbows, ignoring the slight pain. It had died away a bit now that he no longer had a twelve year old using his body as a shield.
"To the medical clinic, where else? If you aren't in top condition for the next race, they're bringing in Marisol. I don't know why they didn't just build a clinic onto the lodge, it would save us the trouble..."
'Come on, Nate, you can get out of this...' Nate had already thought up his protest and was about to launch into full-lecture mode, but Elise had already left the room, a yelling Griff behind her.
"I want to come! I want to come! Why can't I come? Why, Riggs?"
"Because you're a miniature little freak show, and DON'T CALL ME RIGGS!"
'
Twenty minutes, one pillow fight, and three door slams later, Elise found herself driving thirty MPH down an icy road with a drowsy redneck riding shotgun and boy wonder asleep in the back seat. The only thing keeping Nate awake was the throbbing pain in his back and the occasional bump on the slippery road. His eyes were half open, head to one side, and Elise had already given up trying to spark up a conversation five seconds after she turned the ignition. With both of them out (or close enough), she didn't have anyone to vent her girly habits on. I.e., nobody to talk to. She didn't dare blast the radio in fear of waking up Griff, and didn't want Nate in any more pain. Her thoughts drifted to the slightly injured boarder, uncharacteristically concerned about his welfare. He always seemed like such a sweet guy, never complaining about any hardships, not wanting to bother anyone else. Or maybe prove that he could do it on his own. She wondered how he managed to live out the seasons before he had become a competitor in his car. It must have been tough for him. She couldn't imagine somebody as good looking as him not having a girl by now...
'Snap out of it, Elise,' She shook her head, banishing the thoughts from her mind. 'Enough! I am not coming on to my opponent. Not. Not.'
She cleared her mind, trying not to think about anything. This wasn't so easy, however, with her battling the urge to keep looking over at the now sleeping Nate. 'Eyes on the road, woman.' By the time she pulled into the small lot of the clinic (there was only one other car there, the other spaces were occupied by snowmobiles) she would have been pulling her own hair out if she hadn't needed to keep her hands on the wheel.
"Come on, sleeping ugly, train ride's over." She gave Nate a brisk shake. He awoke with a soft grunt, running a gloved hand over his shaved head before unbuckling (safety first!) and getting out.
Elise had started up to the med clinic, but Nate called back to her. "Hey, wait up while I get Griff."
"Can't we just let him freeze out here?" Came the sarcastic reply. Nate didn't say anything back, he unbuckled the small child and was going to lift him when Elise called from somewhere behind him.
"Don't you dare think about picking him up, Logan, not in your condition."
"What condition?" He threw back jokingly, but heeded her words. Nate sighed and gave Griff a soft punch. It took a moment, but the kid finally woke up and, despite being a bit drowsy, they all walked into the clinic.
'A few pokes and prods, a prescription, and I'm outa here...' Nate tried to keep a positive attitude on the situation as his name was called. His rain cloud grew a bit larger as he noticed Griff and Elise follow him, but he didn't say anything, following the white-bearded doctor behind double doors and deeper into the pits of hell known to all as the doctor's office. God knows what malpractice goes on there on a daily basis...
The old-ish looking man led them to a small white room, stainless steel table in the center connecting with one wall, a few feet near the other end left open for the doctor to walk behind it. There was a wooden bench, counter with a sink, and a door in the back that led who know's where.
The doctor, an elderly looking man perhaps in his fifties, white beard and white thinning hair, signaled for Nate to get up on the table. Feeling like he was back at his old pediatricians (he didn't dwell on the horrid memories), he complied, removing his shirt when instructed. Elise pretended not to notice his toned (though not overly-muscular) physique, her and Griff leaning against the wall on the bench, both on opposite sides.
The doctor immediately saw the discolored bruise on Nate's back and questioned. Nate replied in a dull monotone, his own attempts at ignoring the pain from sitting up straight in vain. Yes, he knew the bruise was there. No, just since last night. No, it hadn't been that color before. No, he had tried to take it easy, but there was a small problem with that (insert glance at Griff, who was beginning to fall asleep again). Yes, he had back problems in his family. No, he was not over the age of thirty (not yet).
The doctor nodded sagely, gently circling the bruise on Nate's lower back. He poked at higher places along the spine, asking if it hurt. Each poke was answered with a stiff nod, all the way up to the base of his neck.
"Well," the doctor said dully, sounding remarkably like the man in the eye drop commercial, "we'll need to get x-rays, please step this way..."
By the time the intense examination of Nate's lower vertebra and intense discussion of what was to be done about the problem was over, Nate was feeling like he would have been better off just not snow boarding for a career to avoid the whole situation. Yes, it was that bad.
The story was that, on his lower back, there was an extra bit of bone connected to his spine. It wasn't large, not even the size of a small child's pinky fingernail, but it was big enough that, when Nate landed 'incorrectly' on the ice, it snapped about off, interfering with the two surrounding vertebra and disk of cartilage and preventing him from bending his back in certain ways without pain. Fortunately it hadn't effected his movement besides that. He would need to have it surgically removed if he hoped to snow board again, or even move faster than a walk. They couldn't risk it causing him any more damage. So Nate was set up to come in the next day when there was a certified surgeon available who could perform the operation, no food or drink besides a bit of water before then. Elise agreed to drive him ("borrowing" Zoe's car again) when the time came, thanked the doctor, and lead the exhausted Nate and whining Griff out the door.
The ride back to the clinic the next day invoked a sense of Deja Vu in Elise; there she was, driving the same car (Zoe sure had given her hell for it the first time, but seemed to soften up at the look on Nate's face earlier that morning) with a sleeping Nate in the passenger seat. She was thankful that he wasn't awake; it would be awkward with just the two of them. Elise already felt nervous, anxiety twisting her stomach. How she hated that feeling. It made her feel ugly, hideous, like everyone else could see how she was worried.
And over what? Some guy? Her competition, even! Worried that he wouldn't be able to snowboard, to race with her.
'Well, not me alone, with everyone else, too...' She covered her thoughts hastily, focusing on the road.
"Um, hey... Elise?"
The girl in question looked over at the passenger seat, surprised that Nate had woken up. She hesitated."Yeah, what?"
Now it was Nate's turn to hesitate. "Well... I just wanted to say... you know, thanks. For driving me out here and stuff." He kept his tired eyes on the dash, careful not to reach her own.
"No problem, Nate."
The rest of the way to the clinic was driven in a comfortable silence.
The next thing Nate knew he was laying face down on a cool, plastic, uncomfortable table, painfully awar of how he wasn't wearing any clothes under the teal operating cloth placed over him. He could hear people chattering around him, orders being given and taken, preparations being made. He kept his eyes closed and tried to fight down the horrible feeling of anxiety with a dash of embarrassment. For a moment he wondered if snowboarding was worth the operation.
All his thoughts were soon eradicated as he was pumped with anaesthesia through his IV line, falling into bikini-fied Elise filled dreams. As he drifted off, he found that he really didn't mind.
Elise waited in the waiting room a total of one hour and forty-five minutes until a slick looking man in a clinical white coat came down the hall Nate had disappeared down not too long ago, explained that he was the overseeing doctor for the clinic, and asked if she had brought in a certain snowboarder with a back injury. She said yes.
"Well, the operation was a success. It was relatively simple, we just need to keep him here until the sutures in his back are healed enough for him to move without tearing them or stressing his back, maybe two days. He shouldn't need therapy as long as he keeps moving but doesn't take anything too fast, and get plenty of rest on the side. We can give you a call when he's ready go get out of here, and you give us a call if anything happens to him after that. We will supply you with some pain medication if the need arises."
Elise nodded. "Thank you. Um, is he allowed visitors?"
The doctor smiled. "I suspected you might ask that. Elise, isn't it? That's what I thought. He said your name a couple times after we moved him to a room. And I must say I'm not surprised." He looked her down, nodding his head knowingly. "He's a lucky guy to have a girlfriend like you."
Elise raised her eyebrows. She could feel her cheeks start to burn. "Oh, um, no, you must be mistaken, I'm just his... co-worker, we're not dating or anything... nothing like that."
The doctor raised one eyebrow, a wily smile on his face. "Anyway, he's in room twelve, feel free to visit him anytime before he is released. Just make sure to check in." He gave her one last nod and walked away, his long stride carrying him quickly out of Elise's sight.
She sighed and stood still for a moment, trying to recollect herself. Why had she acted so defensive? She cursed inwardly and stalked off in the direction of the sign that read "PATIENT ROOMS."
Nate's bed was positioned so he was laying completely horizontal so as not to put any unneeded pressure on his back. Elise sat in a chair by the head of his bed. A side table separated the two. She kept herself against the wall stubbornly, not allowing herself to get any closer to him. Her face showed little emotion, still mad at herself for acting so dumb with the doctor. The drugs hadn't worn off yet and he slept on, unaware of his visitor. Minutes passed, and she just watched. Finally words. "Hey, Logan, I'm gonna go back to the lodge." She talked at him more than to him, feeling like she should give some sort of goodbye and not leave him to wake up confused. "You're gonna have to stay here for a while, and I'll come get you once you're good to go. If Zoe lets me use her car again. Just don't worry about anything, you're gonna be fine. And I guess I'll have to come back so Griff can visit you, he would kill himself and me if I didn't let him see you." She paused. No response. She stood. "See you later."
She was about to close the door when she heard movement from the bed. Nate had shifted slightly in his sleep. His face creased, as if he wasmaking a huge effort. "'Lise..."
Elise looked at him, lost for words. She allowed herself a tiny smile. "Get better soon."
She closed the door softly.