CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Tom slowly came out of his sleep state. The fog was gently lifting as he became more aware of his surroundings. His body shifted slightly, and he felt a pulse of pain radiate from his shoulder to his leg and the memories of the day slowly faded back in. He sighed and opened his eyes slightly. He recognized the interior of the helo bay and frowned. He shifted his arm and found his hand was trapped under something. His gaze turned to the side, and he saw Rachel's head on the bed with her hand holding his. She was asleep. He smiled and gently extracted his hand so he could run his fingers through her hair. He needed to stop waking up like this, he thought.

His hand was sliding through when Rachel pulled her head up slowly and blinked, Tom watched her with a smile on his face. She smiled in return, yawning.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey, yourself. You been up long?"

"No," Tom said looking around the helo bay. He frowned as he realized everyone else had left the bay. He hoped that was good news for his sailors. "A few seconds longer than you."

"I got tired of waiting for you to wake up," she said softly with a smile. Tom couldn't help but chuckle, but as the laugh rumbled through his chest, he winced at the pain it caused.

"I'm still in the helo bay," he said with a frown.

"Yep, and you're not going to like what I have to say next," Rachel said with a sigh. Tom couldn't stop the groan that escaped. He knew she was going to tell him he couldn't return to duty.

"No," he barked. He was not going to allow them to bench him. He had a job to do.

"No, what?" Rachel asked.

"No, to whatever restrictions you and Rios have cooked up. No."

"Tom," she sighed. Tom felt frustration boil up inside him.

"I'm okay to return to duty," Tom said defiantly.

"Tom, you were shot. Three times. You are certainly not ready to return to duty. I wish this was as easy as Senior Chief Taylor."

"Rachel, I have a job to do," Tom replied, his annoyance building, "and that's lead this ship."

"And if one of your sailors was as wounded as you, what, do tell, would you order of them?" Rachel spat back. Tom went to argue with her, but her logic slapped him across the face, and he knew exactly the corner she had just painted him into. Because she was right. If he was talking to one of his crew, injured in the manor he was, they would not be cleared for active duty for at least a week. He realized his mouth was hanging open, and he closed it, giving her a grim look. "Exactly."

"Not the same," Tom grumbled under his breath, knowing his answer sounded lame. Rachel smiled at him, and he looked away. He brooded over the fact he could not win the argument.

"It is the same, Tom. Listen, you need to rest and let it start to heal. If you don't, it won't heal properly."

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked exasperated. He hated having to sit back and let someone else take control.

"Give command to Mike for now," Rachel said blatantly. Tom pushed himself back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling.

This was not what he wanted. He was even madder at himself now for letting his guard down earlier. Maybe if he had been more vigilant, he could have prevented himself from getting shot. He knew deep down that was bullshit. While he was brooding over his current predicament, Rachel leaned forward. Where she positioned her face, he was forced to make eye contact with her. When he gave her his full attention she leaned down and gently captured his lips with hers, then slowly heated the kiss up. Tom felt himself respond, soaking up the heat and passion she was giving him.

They toyed with each other as they slowly but passionately explored each other, and Tom felt his anger and frustration float away. He was consumed with a desire for the woman currently lip locked with him. He felt a pang of disappointment when Rachel finally pulled back from him. She sat back down on the stool.

"That was for not dying out there," she said, letting the emotions leak into her voice. Tom paused as it hadn't fully hit him what she had gone through here on the ship. The fear and anxiety she must have felt when she heard there were injuries. Seeing him come in bloody. He didn't take into the account of where her thoughts had taken her medically as she assessed his wounds. And for that he felt like shit. He reached his hand out and gripped hers. He gave her a sad smile and nodded, acknowledging her fears.

"I'm sorry," he said, thinking about what she must have gone through. Rachel simply nodded her head.

"Hopefully Rios has a second set of crutches because he already gave Wolf a set."

"How'd everyone else fair," Tom asked, chastising himself for not asking about his crew sooner. Rachel gave him the run down on injuries, how Mike formed up a third team and went ashore shortly after they came back to the ship, and they knew everyone was in stable condition. Tom nodded when she had finished and blew out a frustrated breath. "Who's in charge of the ship?"

"Garnett," Rachel replied, and Tom nodded. The ship was in good hands.

"Okay. So, what am I allowed to do?"

"Go to your quarters and rest."

"You mean stay in bed?"

"Sounds like an idea to me," Rachel whispered quietly, and Tom felt a rush whip through his body at her tone. He smiled and shook his head at her.

"Okay," Tom finally relented, knowing he was on the losing end of this argument. "I'll take a break for the rest of today but then I'm back at it tomorrow."

"We will see when Rios clears you for duty," she quipped back at him, and Tom frowned. He was frustrated. He wanted to get up and go to the bridge, but he knew his leg was not fit to walk on. He wanted to make everything better, and go about his duties, but that wasn't going to happen.

"I'll need to talk to Commander Garnett today though."

"I'll arrange it," Rachel said as she got up and went over to the phone on the wall. Tom watched her walk away, pick up the receiver and dial out. She spoke quietly then hung up and repeated the same thing. He leaned back against the stretcher and curled his hands into tight fists. He was disappointed he was being benched in a critical point in the mission. He had all the faith in the world in Mike, but he knew that he was a better diplomate than Mike. Mike had no tolerance for stupid people, and he thought all politicians were stupid. He just hoped he had enough smarts to keep his mouth shut and do his job the right way. Rachel finished her second call, hanging up the phone and walking back towards him. She settled herself onto the stool again.

"There, all settled."

Tom smiled at her and retook her hand. He rather enjoyed the feel of her hand in his. He pulled her hand up and brushing her knuckles against his lips before kissing it. It wasn't long before Rios came in. As he walked up to them Tom dropped Rachel's hand.

"Captain, how are you feeling?"

"Like I got shot," Tom replied dryly. Rachel chuckled while Rios just gave a tight-lipped smile. Tom felt annoyance creep in as he felt he was going to be tag teamed by the two.

"Well, the good news is no real damage. Just superficial muscular damage. Both bullets were through and through, hitting just muscle tissue."

"Bad news?" Tom asked dreading the coming answer.

"I'm sure you've already been told. I'm not clearing you for duty for a few days at least." And there it was, the inevitable benching from his chief corpsman. But the couple day's part shocked Tom. He was not happy about that number, but from the look on Rios' and Rachel's faces, there was no arguing the point. At least not today.

"Days?" Tom asked incredulously. Rachel was working hard to keep her snicker to herself, but Tom noticed she was greatly amused.

"Yes, Sir. The injuries you sustained require you to stay off your leg and rest. The more you rest the faster you will recover."

Tom grumbled under his breath about how this was bullshit, but he knew deep down they were both right. And Rachel had nailed it earlier when she asked him how he would deal with a sailor with the same injuries. He felt Rachel's hand on his uninjured shoulder, and he glanced at her and glowered. A small laugh escaped from her, and Tom couldn't stop the pout that overtook him. The hand on his shoulder squeezed gently.

Tom watched Rios walk away quickly from the corner of his eye. The corpsman never looked back. Tom tore his eyes away from the helo bay wall and looked at Rachel, who was still holding her amusement on her face.

"A couple days off," she said in a purr. Tom was still pouting. He was not a happy camper, and this was going to test him. He wanted to be with the president. He wanted to be ashore, saving the world. Not because he enjoyed being the hero, but because he felt that was where the mission was at right now.

"I can't take a couple days off," he grumbled. Rachel's hand left his shoulder and cupped his jaw.

"Oh, but you can," she said before she smiled at him. He glared at her and blew out a frustrated breath. He was forming a sarcastic snappy response in his head but before he could utter a word, Commander Garnett walked in. Rachel dropped her hand.

"You wanted to see me, Captain?" Garnett asked walking up to his beside. Tom was quiet a moment as he mentally switched gears.

"Yes," he said with a deep sigh. "I'm apparently going to be on medical down time for the next couple days. With the XO on shore with the president that will leave you in charge of the bridge."

"Aye, Sir," she replied as she glanced over his injuries.

"Have you gotten word from the XO? Or the teams on the ground?"

"Yes, Sir," Garnett answered. "XO reported that he had reached the hotel and made contact with President Michener. Green and Burk have assumed command of Cobra and Vulture teams and taken up a perimeter around the hotel. Mason, Miller, and Garrison are filling in the holes in the president's personal security team."

"Sounds like things are under control."

"Aye, Sir. President Michener has reestablished control and communications with the city of St. Louis Mayor Howard Oliver. They have reestablished control over the police force and determined a lone of command."

"How long was I asleep?" Tom asked wearily as it seemed a lot had happened already.

"Sir?" Garnett asked obviously confused by his question. Rachel smiled.

"You were out for a couple hours," Rachel whispered to him. Tom looked at her with wide eyes as he couldn't believe he had been out that long. Rachel shrugged at him.

"Okay. Sounds like we have the city under control again."

"Yes, Sir, as of now."

"All right. I'll be in my stateroom if I'm needed."

"Aye, Sir," Garnett replied and then left. Tom blew out another frustrated breath as he hated being stuck immobile and out of the loop. He looked down when he felt Rachel's hand slip effortlessly into his. He shifted his eyes up to hers.

"It's okay, everything will be fine while you recuperate."

"Easy for you to say," he huffed in annoyance. She smiled and squeezed his hand. Tom noticed Rios return with a pair of crutches and he groaned internally as he hated having to walk with crutches. Rachel tugged on his hand, and he looked at her. She motioned for him to get up and then she helped him stand up from the stretcher. He winced from the pain as he dropped his feet to the ground and pushed up into a standing position.

Rios adjusted the crutches to fit and handed them over to Tom. Tom took them, then frowned at them before placing them under his arm pits and taking a few steps. He fought hard to keep the scream of pain internal as each time he pushed with the crutch with the arm attached to his bad shoulder a searing pain ripped through it. He groaned and paused after a few steps and looked at the shoulder causing the issues.

"This isn't going to work," he grumbled in a low voice. He saw Rachel looking at him expectantly.

"What?"

"It hurts my shoulder to use the crutch," he said angrily as the pain was flaring down his arm. He flexed his hand trying to alleviate some of it. "It puts too much pressure on the wound."

"I was afraid of that," Rios sighed. "Give me that crutch and just use the one. But keep as much weight off your injured leg as you possibly can."

Tom handed the man the crutch and attempted to move forward with just one. It was a lot more awkward and much more difficult to balance on his good leg, with the crutch on the same side. He attempted a few different things, but after a few steps and a few fumbles he finally figured out how to balance his weight and walk without using his bad leg. Without another word Tom started off for his stateroom. Rachel fell in behind him. By the time they reached the stateroom Tom was exhausted. He limped over to the couch and slumped heavily down into the cushions. He dropped the crutch down at his feet disgustedly. Rachel tentatively sat next to him, keeping a space between them. Tom frowned.

"This sucks," he whined. That elicited a laugh from Rachel. He snapped his eyes to her, annoyed she was still laughing at his expense. "I'm serious."

"I know you are," she replied with a giggle. Tom frowned again. He felt a slight depression seep over him.

"What the hell do I do for a few days?"

"How about rest, relax, and let your body heal," Rachel said suggestively. Tom furrowed his eyebrows and blew out a sigh.

"I don't know how to do that," Tom grumbled lowly. He heard a bark of laughter erupt from Rachel before she covered her mouth with her hand. Tom couldn't help but glare at her again.

"Don't laugh at me," he said, his face almost in a pout.

"Seriously, Tom," Rachel said. He could tell she was working hard to control her laughter at him. He knew he deserved to be laughed at. He was acting like a child who had been told no ice cream. But he was genuinely perturbed about being side lined. He crossed his arms over his chest, but then winced because his shoulder pulled and sent a pulse of pain through him. He blew out another frustrated breath. He watched as Rachel leaned over and scooted closer to him. He sank further into the couch and dropped his head along the top of it. "I know it's not ideal, but you were shot…three times," she said, the emotion seeping into her voice.

Tom realized under her laughter at his antics, there was raw fear and pain. He picked his head up and looked at her. He watched as she forced a smile over her lips, but he could tell under that smile was not happiness. She was scared, no she was terrified. She had gone through hell waiting to hear how he was, and how bad things would be. Tom probed her with his eyes, soaking in the pain she was trying desperately to hide.

"Yeah," he said as he reached with his good arm and took her hand. "I guess I wasn't thinking about how…" he was saying but words failed him, so his voice trailed off. He didn't know how to bring it up. He didn't know how to process that kind of fear. He was never on that side of it. He was never the one waiting for the news.

"I know," Rachel said. "But you were lucky, as were the others who were injured," she said softly. Tom blew out another breath.

"I'm sorry," he said, squeezing her hand that was in his. He watched her smile at him and nod slowly. "I'll take time to rest. I'm not built for this type of thing."

And he wasn't. He was a warrior. He was made to charge ahead into battle. He was meant to lead, make the quick decisions and the hard ones too. He was always more comfortable at sea, in the thick of things, than resting and relaxing away from the Navy. It was something that always worried him when the time came to step away.

"No. You're built to charge forward. But in doing so…you end up like this sometimes."

"I know," Tom said as he looked away. He knew he was mortal. But sometimes he just didn't think of that in the moment. He wouldn't allow himself to do his job in fear. He had always taken duty by the horns. He knew he needed to think differently now. He needed to remember that he was the only parent his kids had left.

He looked back at her and saw the tear tracks on her cheeks. He reached up with his free hand and brushed his knuckles down her cheek. He felt her lean into his touch and watched as she closed her eyes. He felt his heart break as he realized the emotions she had to be tormented by right now. He had never had someone on the ship, this close to the action, have these feelings for him. And he wasn't thinking about how his injuries could have affected her.

"I'm okay," he said. He watched as Rachel opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Her eyes were flashing with all sorts of emotion and Tom felt horrible that he hadn't noticed this earlier. He kicked himself mentally as this was the second time, he was so wrapped up in his own emotional distress he had completely missed hers. He needed to work on his ability to focus on her emotions and not just his own. More tears streaked down her face and he felt like a complete asshole. She bit at her lip and he couldn't help himself anymore. "Hey," he said gently as he dropped her hand and cupped both sides of her face.

"You almost died, and I don't think you realize how close it really was. If this bullet," Rachel said, touching his shoulder gently, "had hit you here instead? It would have blown apart an artery and you would have bled out before anyone could have even gotten to you."

"But it didn't," he said sternly. He saw the exasperation on her face and knew he had said the wrong thing.

"If this bullet," Rachel continued, touching his leg," had hit here? You would have severed an artery and again…bled out." He could tell she didn't think he was taking what happened seriously. But he was. It was just his way of dealing with the trauma and the stress that she was right. He had almost died today.

He knew he should explain himself and why he was acting the way he was. It wasn't that he didn't understand the danger he was in today. He whole heartedly understood the danger he was in today. He just chose to compartmentalize that fear. He knew how lucky he was. He knew how stupid it was of him to lose focus. He knew how emotions could get you killed easier on a battlefield than simple dumb luck. He knew…because he had been there. More than once.

"Rachel," he finally said as he formulized his thoughts. She pulled away from him and he wanted to touch her again. "I think you misunderstood my stoic and emotionless response to what you're saying as me not understanding the danger that was today. Trust me when I say, I completely understand how dangerously close I cam to dying today. But the only way for me, personally, to deal with the idea that, yes, I should not have lived through the day, is to push the emotions down and not feel them. If it had been a trained soldier on the other end of that weapon instead of a scared kid? I would have been dead."

"But you," Rachel stammered as she worked to even out her breathing. Tom forced down the turmoil inside him.

"No, listen. I just compartmentalize those emotions because if I don't? I can't do my job. If I'm afraid I'm going to die, I can't do my job. Do you understand? I've gotten really good at being able to continue on and be thankful for dumb luck."

"I can't do that," Rachel said. Tom put his hands in his lap. He knew that. He didn't expect her to do that.

"I know," he replied with a sigh. "But trust me I understand how lcose I came to dying today. I'm so grateful that it didn't happen, and I get to come back to this," he continued as he moved his hand between them.

"So, you'll take a few days?" Rachel asked. Tom kept his mask in place for a moment before letting the gin split his face.

"Yes," he whispered. "For you."

Because he knew that he would need to do this. He knew she and Rios were both right. And he knew that if Senior Chief PO Taylor asked him to return to active duty tomorrow, he would deny it. So, he had to follow his own recommendations and take a least a little time off to rest. He'd give it a little time and then he could get back into the swing. Just because he was on medical didn't mean he couldn't be involved either.

To Be Continued…