Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing the last part, your support is much appreciated and all the messages about this fic have been lovely. Extra special thanks to Anny, Meggi and Ficmouse for being so brilliant and supportive.

So here we go with the next chapter - and please remember as I have said before, I am no medical expert.

For better, for worse

Chapter 12

Wednesday 7th March 2012

They had only been living together on the houseboat for a matter of hours when Sam first considered that it may not be that easy to adjust to being back in Dylan's company full time once again. She had just started to grow used to the confines of the unfamiliar boat in the previous few days whilst her husband had remained in hospital and the time she had spent by his bedside had reawaken the connection they had always shared. However she had begun to realise that actually living in each other's pockets was more likely to result in tension and the emergence of ever grumpier moods from the man himself than it was peaceful harmony.

She watched as Dylan sat propped up on the sofa with the thickest text book she had ever seen open in front of him and couldn't fail to raise a smile at the fact that even when he was in such a battered state his first priority had been medical research, admittedly even if in this case she was sure he was exploring options for his own treatment. Sam was half tempted to skip out on attending his next follow up appointment at the hospital with him, because on the basis of all the investigation he was doing himself she was pretty certain he was going to give the consultant a rough ride over their future plans for his care.

Dylan knew his wife's eyes were upon him as he tried to read through the book in his hands, but he couldn't bring himself to concentrate on the words despite knowing how much it may aide him when he returned to the hospital in a few days' time for a check-up. There was something about it being his own injuries that he was trying to solve that appeared to be causing his mind difficulty in processing the detail on the page in any coherent format and he could feel the annoyance rising inside of him at the knowledge he was allowing his own emotions to get the better of him in such a manner.

He also knew that his mood had been worsened by how much support he had needed from his wife just to get from the bed to the sofa even with his crutches and that had been without her having to produce a make-shift bathroom for him in the kitchen so that he could access the sink to wash whilst sitting on a chair. Dylan had found himself grateful for once at how physically strong and able his ex-wife was, because he was certain that most other women would not be anywhere near capable enough to provide such support to a male and he was still as adamant in his determination as he had been the previous day that he would not be resorting to using the wheelchair anytime soon.

Sam's acts of domesticity had bemused him so far that morning, as she was the least house-wifely person he knew and her attempts at cookery, housekeeping and general cleaning had always resulted in disaster back when they were living together before. He recalled that she had always much preferred charging about to doing household chores, in fact if he remembered correctly they had spent their first day together on an assault course as part of a team building event, designed to enable mentors to bond with their new pupils. Unlike most of the other pairings it had been his mentee that had taken the lead in their efforts and whilst her fast pace had nearly killed him en route, her excitement on them taking the lead and subsequently winning the day had caused her to offer him the warmest of smiles. He remembered that it had been as he watched the beautiful young student, covered from head to toe in mud but beaming from ear to ear regardless, that he had first realised he might develop feelings for the girl much against his own better judgement.

"Coffee grumpy?" Sam called from behind him and he span his head round from the book to gaze towards the kitchen, momentarily distracted from his thoughts.

"Yes, I take it," he started, but she cut him off.

"Plain and simple," she butted in, rolling her eyes at him. "Just like you did when I first met you, how you took it the whole time we lived together, how you drank it when I made it last night and how you reminded me you took it this morning. I do remember how you like your coffee, you know," she retorted smartly.

"Yes, right," Dylan stated, feeling chastened by her words. He watched as she started to busy herself with making drinks, realising with some horror that she appeared to have rearranged some of his kitchen items in his absence. However before he could comment on the inappropriateness of her actions he was diverted by his wife's appearance and the clothes she was wearing.

Sam was still dressed in her sleepwear from the night before, despite it being nearly noon and although her clothing was simple he couldn't help but notice how well it suited her. She was in a green strappy top and checked pyjama bottoms, with her long hair messily hanging down her back and he could see instantly that she had not bothered to put any make-up on yet, although in his opinion she had never really needed it in the first place, unlike some other women he had met over the years. His Samantha had always looked beautiful even when she had the image of someone who had just clambered out of bed minutes before, a sight he knew he had been lucky to have for the three years they shared a bed and their lives together.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, snapping him out of his daze as he realised that he had been staring at her the entire time.

"Fine," Dylan responded tersely and noticed the slightly hurt look in her eyes on hearing the tone of his words, but she still offered him a smile back regardless. He felt that he was unable to offer her anything more than that simple stock answer, because elaborating would have meant explaining the confusing state of helplessness he was feeling and that he was still trying to come to terms with himself. He had known from the moment Nick Jordan had explained his injuries that things were not going to be easy for him in the coming weeks, but back then he had not comprehended how difficult it would be to allow Sam to look after him. The reality of the situation had begun to sink in when he had required her help to dress himself given the restrictions his injuries and catheter were placing on him and he knew he had yet to really consider what it would be like to allow her to help bathe him later on.

If he was honest with himself Dylan was finding his circumstances incredibly uncomfortable and he couldn't help but feel as if his physically vulnerable state left him open to scrutiny under his wife's gaze, however supportive she was trying to be. The indwelling Foley catheter and attached drainage bag had left him feeling indignant and despite his own assurances to patients that insertion was far from a painful procedure, he had found the experience far from pleasant and had eventually to his embarrassment had to resort to asking for local anaesthetic cream to numb the excruciating discomfort. He was incredibly grateful that if all went according to the surgeon's expectations he would be free of the device in a matter of weeks as he did not think he would be able to bear being in such a predicament longer term and he had dismissed even the thought of that from his mind on more than one occasion.

"I'm going to the shops soon, you've barely got anything in," Sam said as she approached him from the kitchen with two steaming mugs of coffee in her hands, passing one to him and holding tightly onto the other as she perched on the opposite arm of the sofa to where Dylan was leaning. "If there is anything specific you want, let me know. I know you'll only go on at me a hundred times tonight if there is something important I've forgotten," she added as he couldn't help but look at her clothing, wondering if she was intending on heading to the supermarket still dressed in her pyjamas. "Yes, I am going to pull on some clothes before I go out," Sam continued in response, suddenly able to read his mind so it seemed. "I'll try not to embarrass you too much whilst I'm here," she stated with the merest hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Dylan watched as she took a slurp of the hot liquid in her mug and winced at the temperature, despite him knowing full well she must have been well aware how boiling it was as she had made it only a minute or so before. It felt as if something had changed deeply inside him as he looked at her, because no matter the age gap between him and his wife and the comments they had received on that very topic throughout the duration of their relationship, he had never actually noticed how young she was until she had appeared by his bedside early that morning to check his dressings and catheter for him. Nonetheless his prevailing thought as he actually studied her face intently was that she still remained very much his equal in every sense of the word, just as she had been that first day he met her, a thought that had always felt strange to him as back then she should have been nothing more than his pupil and he had most definitely been her senior.

"What you thinking about?" Sam asked sweetly and he found her staring back at him, coffee mug wrapped tightly in her hands and up close to her mouth.

"The assault course," he said quickly, covering the actual topic spinning through his mind, but noticing the smile that filled his companion's face regardless.

"Well that's quite random," she replied, fondly remembering back to that event herself instantaneously. She recalled happy memories of the day when she had first been introduced to the grumpiest doctor she had ever met and whilst his unforgiving glare on being presented with her had scared her witless, she had found herself drawn deep into his gaze immediately. Sam knew that she had been determined to do incredibly well on that first placement in an E.D. with her desire to get enough experience to be considered for an army medic role her main priority, but starting to fall in love with her mentor within the space of a day had definitely not been on her to do list. She had spent the majority of the session dragging the reluctant man around the various obstacles that had been her speciality since her cadet days and somehow they had managed to achieve first place. They had retained that ranking in their department from that day until their departure, with Dylan pushing her to the brink of everything she was capable of on an almost daily basis to ensure that he and his student were the top performing in the hospital.

"Indeed," Dylan responded and the two of them made eye contact across his sprawled out form on the sofa, neither feeling the need to offer any other words as comment on their own thoughts.

"I need to get changed," Sam quickly interjected, breaking the intensity of the moment and springing up from the arm of the chair as if her life depended on it. "Have a think about whether there is anything you want from town," she added, putting her mug down on the small table she had earlier placed by his side for ease of access. "You or Dervla that is," she finished, shooting a smile in his direction as the daft dog appeared at her side on hearing her name spoken aloud.

Sam hastily made her way to her husband's bedroom where her clothes that had been hanging up in his wardrobe had now been joined by more recent additions that had finally been freed from the confines of her rucksack. She opened the cupboard door and stared at the selection of garments that confronted her with bafflement. She still had no real idea why the first section of outfits had been present at all, as although she considered her husband may have felt it disrespectful to throw them away that did not offer enough of an explanation as to why they had been stored so nicely in the wardrobe, almost as if she had popped away for the weekend than they had separated and her clothes had already been resident in a place she had only moved into a few days before.

Sam quickly selected a suitable outfit for her sojourn into town to find the nearest supermarket to stock up on essentials, a trip she was not looking forward to as she had yet to fully master how to control Dylan's car much to his consternation the previous afternoon when she had driven him home. On changing Sam entered the bathroom and opened the cabinet to grab hold of her spray on deodorant, a task which was messing with her head and thought processes every time she did it. The fact that her items were on a small portion of a shelf that also contained Zoe's perfume and other toiletries was beyond weird to her and she could only imagine that the other woman would feel similarly on seeing the sight for herself the following day.

She exited the bathroom as speedily as she had entered and headed back into the kitchen where the rough shopping list she had drafted lay half written on the sideboard. Sam had never been one for going to such trouble when buying her own food, preferring just to purchase whatever looked interesting or easy to cook on her brief visits to a local convenience store in whatever town she had been staying in at the time. However she knew how difficult her husband had been when he had left her to purchase items that were important to him, especially Dervla related bits and pieces and she had gotten the request somehow incorrect and returned home with the wrong items. The fact that they had once argued over her buying wholemeal bread over granary still bemused her, although if she was honest she was still unsure which he had a preference for and she found herself sneaking a peek in the bread bin just to check what had been there before.

Sam had one final rummage in the kitchen cabinets and tried to think of something appropriate to cook for Zoe's visit the following night, however nauseous she felt at just considering that she would be preparing a romantic meal for her husband and his partner to enjoy. She opened one last cupboard and saw with horror that there were two bottles of wine to one side of it, something she had failed to spot on her earlier viewing. She crouched down in front of the open door and pulled out the front bottle, noting with dismay that the majority of it had already been drunk. Sam felt inconceivably disappointed that her husband may well be drinking again, especially after everything they had been through to get him off the booze, but she also realised that she no longer had any right to dictate to him how he should live his life. She only hoped that he never asked her to buy any further bottles for him to drink though, because she did not think she would be able to do it in clear conscience, having borne witness to Dylan's awful drunken moods and temper on more than one occasion in the past.

She stood back up, realising that her final scour through the cupboards had not provided her with any further suggestions, so picked up her list and went round to the living area to tell Dylan she was departing. However on reaching the front of the sofa she realised that he had finally settled into sleep, having had a much disturbed pattern of rest the night before as he struggled to get comfortable away from the support of a hospital bed. Sam grabbed the blanket that was draped across the back of the settee where she had placed it as she awoke from her own night on the chair and pulled it over her sleeping husband, tucking it in slightly around him to ensure that he was safe and warm.

She had wanted to ensure he knew that she was leaving for the shops, feeling quite wary of leaving him alone for any period of time in his current semi-helpless state, but she did not want to wake him from his much needed period of slumber so instead settled for writing him a short note on the back of the irrelevant shopping list and propped it up against his coffee mug, which she was pleased to see he had safely placed on the table next to her own before falling asleep. She picked up the text book from its new position on the floor and returned it to the shelving unit it the corner of the room, figuring that Dylan had done more than enough research for one day.

Sam stood and looked at the remainder of the contents of the bookshelf, instantly recognising some of the titles as old favourites of her husband. The memory of those long winter nights spent in front of a roaring fire in their run down old home with Dylan reading her a perplexing array of diagnostic criteria and treatment plans before her medical examinations brought a strange sense of bewilderment over her at the disconcerting set of circumstances she now found herself in. She recalled that no more than a week ago she had been out camping in the wilderness with a group of squaddies in preparation for deployment to a warzone that had been due to commence in a matter of days and the harsh reality of now finding herself as her ex-husband's primary carer as he recovered from his highly personal injuries jarred with her.

"Dervla," she commanded, calling the dog to her side, suddenly feeling desperation to depart from the confines of the small boat. "I'm going out for a little while, no more than an hour though and I promise I will be as quick as I can," she informed her canine friend. "Look after grumpy okay? And be good my darling," she instructed, ruffling the mutt's coat affectionately as she did so.

She picked up her keys and bag before heading to the doorway of the houseboat that she supposed she was now referring to bizarrely as her home, in spite of that being far from the case, and looked back at her husband who was wearing a contented expression across his sleeping face.

"I'll be back soon Dylan," she said as softly as she could manage. "Take care of yourself whilst I'm gone."

Thank you for reading as ever and reviews are always welcome. The next part will be up in a few days. Callie x