"Hell no." Riff said, crossing his arms, "I ain't doing it."
"Come on, Riff." Tony sighed. He'd just brought up the idea of Riff moving into Valentina's storage space. "Be reasonable. It makes the most sense. And it doesn't have to be forever. It's just till you get back on your feet."
"Do you have to say it that literally?" Riff snapped. "There's no way I'm living in the same place as the old witch. You may like her tellin you what to do all the time, but that aint me."
Tony sighed, burying his face into his hands. It had been a few days since Riff gained back the feeling in his legs. As of yesterday morning he slightly able to wiggle all of his toes.
Dr. Mccallin had stopped in last night to tell Riff he was healed up enough to be discharged by tomorrow.
"There's really no reason to keep you at this point. Your injury is pretty much healed. You have your feeling back in your legs. You'll be able to use the bathroom on your own without the catheter. All your other systems are working properly. You'll still have to come in to get your stitches out, and definitely for physical therapy. Until then we will fit you for a wheelchair. But you staying is redundant at this point. Besides, I'm sure you'd feel more comfortable at home."
Tony had been waiting for the hospital to wave their flag that they were kicking Riff out to even approach the subject of Riff moving into the extra storage room. He had even tried to soften Valentina's offer by bringing Riff his favorite hoagie from Peppis-italian: with extra salami, no dressing, and piled high with banana peppers. He waited until Riff was done before he dropped the bomb. And Riff reacted exactly like he thought he would.
Stubbornly, sarcastically and bordering on volatile.
"Okay." Tony replied calmly after he'd counted to ten, "If you don't, where are you planning on living then? You can't go to your ma's. You're not going to be able to do the steps. Same thing at all the other guys' places. They all have stairs."
Riff fell silent as Tony saw the realization hit.
"It's honestly not bad living with her." Tony continued. "Besides when I work for her, she pretty much leaves me alone. I get at least one solid meal a day. It's clean. She'll let you use her laundry machines. It's quiet when the store is closed. All in all it's not bad."
Tony knew that Riff recognized he was right-that there were no other options-but he also knew Riff was obnoxiously stubborn and was quickly trying to think of any other solutions.
"Unless you want to live on the streets." Tony shrugged, knowing he almost had him by the way Riff was twisting his bottom lip."It's gonna start to get cold in a few months...I can't say that a wheelchair is gonna have great tracking in the snow...I mean depending on how your physical therapy goes and all."
"Fine!" Riff burst out. "But it's only till I can figure something else out. But don't expect me not to have a say in how she's planning on treatin me."
"Fair enough." Tony said, trying to hide his smile. He knew that Valentina wanted to have her own meeting with Riff to discuss her own terms but he didn't feel a need to mention that. At least not right now.
"I wondered why you brought me a hoagie." Riff said rather grudgingly. "I should have known you were trying to soften me up."
"That and your ass has gotten even skinnier." Tony reached out, poking Riff in the ribs making him jump. "Don't worry, you'll start packing on the pounds soon. Valentina's a great cook."
"Guess that's something." Riff replied.
"Plus I'm there." Tony grinned, "We can make up for some lost time."
Riff's eyes lit up slightly at the sound of that and Tony once again felt a prang of guilt. "That's true. You never really did tell me about your time in the slammer."
"Yeah, it'll make great bedtime stories." Tony replied with a laugh.
Maybe, just maybe everything was going to work out okay after all.
Riff frowned as he looked at himself in the hospital's full-length mirror.
He was leaving the hospital this afternoon.
He wanted to be excited but all could think about was his reflection.
His reflection with him sitting in a damn wheelchair
He honestly hadn't anticipated his reaction to be like this. Not at all. Hell, he hadn't even really thought about his reaction at all. Not even when Dr. Mccallin recommended seeing a therapist or handing him a piece of paper with information of a support group.
He didn't think he'd have any type of reaction until he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
The memory of him and Bernardo squaring off, both of them holding out their switchblades flashed in his mind.
Suddenly it all started to click and register what had actually happened.
That he'd actually gone and fucked up so much he'd put himself in this chair.
That he'd almost lost his freedom and ability to walk.
That it could have been permanent.
Hell, maybe it still was. It wasn't like he was up taking strolls around the hospital.
And if it was permanent, or even left him a gimp, what the hell was Riff supposed to do with the rest of his life?
It wasn't like he was going to become a suit wearing 9 to 5 type of guy. Hell he's never even had a job of any kind.
What if he couldn't get himself better? What if he tried, like really fucking tried, and he still ended up being trapped in this chair? How the hell was he supposed to handle the rest of his life?
The only thing Riff knew for certain was he wasn't willing to give up being a Jet. Whatever way things went. He would always always be a Jet.
The Jets were his complete identity. He was no one without them.
He had no one without them.
He knew they wouldn't kick him out, but he was also not looking to be their charity case.
If this left him anything less than he was before, which already wasn't much, who the hell was he even supposed to be?
"Ready to head out Batman?" Tony asked, interrupting the wheel of anxiety that was now spinning in Riff's head. He stopped when he saw Riff's face. "What's wrong?"
Riff hesitated.
Part of him really wanted to spill his guts. Tell Tony how scared he was. How fucking vulnerable he felt. But right as he started to open his mouth Action popped his head into the room, followed by Baby John.
"Heard you were busting out of here today." He said, "So Tony invited us to come and help get ya home."
"I'm so glad you're coming home, Riff." Baby John said warmly. "Things haven't been the same without you"
"They sure haven't." Tony grinned. "I gotta say it's been pretty quiet. I've missed someone talking my ear off all day."
All Riff could do was manage a slight smile. Tony left to go grab his prescriptions from the pharmacist-one of which Riff was happy to discover were pain pills-while the nurse discharged him.
"I can't say it's been a pleasure." She said handing Riff his appointment card for his first therapy session, "But good luck to you."
"I think we're good to go?" Tony said, coming back into the room. "Ready?"
"Ready." Riff replied, trying to swallow the feeling of nausea that had just settled in his stomach.
"Let's get you home."
Turns out everyone had pulled their money so that Riff could be taken home in a taxi. Even though the hospital was only three blocks away from Doc's, Riff appreciated their efforts to make his heading home as easy as possible.
When they got to Doc's it was dark inside.
"Is the store closed?" Riff asked as Tony dug his keys out of his pocket. The only time Riff ever remembered Doc's being closed was the few days after Doc himself died.
"Maybe Valentina had to run out for something?" Tony gave a shrug, pushing Riff through the door.
"She never has to step out." Riff replied, "If anything she never fucking leaves."
"You already running that mouth of yours? " Valentina's voice spoke out, scaring the shit out of Riff.
Suddenly, the lights turned on and about twelve"Welcome home Riff!" were yelled in his direction.
Everyone he cared about was there. All the Jets, obviously Valentina, even Graziella-who he and Tony each briefly dated-and her friend Velma were standing all around him.
Any other time Riff would have been glad to see everyone. He might have even been the life of the party. He'd be joking around, making everyone laugh. He'd be the Riff they all knew.
But not today...not right now.
He wasn't that Riff right now.
Everything was suddenly too fucking much.
Immediately, Riff felt himself break out in a cold sweat. His heart started to race and he felt like everything and everyone was closing in around him. His ears stopped working and everything around him felt fuzzy. Then his stomach flipped, and he knew instantly he was going to be sick.
"Tony." He said urgently. "I'm gonna puke."
"Oh!" Tony's eyes widened looking panicked. Luckily for him, Valentina acted quickly. She slid a garbage can under Riff just in time for him to empty his stomach into it.
"I think you guys should head home." Valentina said. "We appreciate you coming but maybe we can wait until Riff gets a little more settled."
Riff felt so relieved he couldn't even be angry at Valentina for stepping in and taking control of the situation.
Honestly, all he wanted to do was go take one of his pain pills and go to bed.
Everyone nodded, murmuring soft goodbyes and feel-betters as they headed out the door.
"We'll see you soon, Riff." Baby John said.
"Tony, take good care of him." Action said, giving Riffs shoulder a squeeze. Riff could see he had tears in his eyes. He looked away quickly though, complaining about his "allergies" before heading out the door.
"Why don't you lay down for a while?" Valentina suggested gently reached out and brushed Riff's bangs out of his eyes like Tony's ma used to do. Riff himself was feeling too shaken up to object. "I'll make you something to eat later once your stomach settles a bit.
Finally, it was just Riff and Tony left. Valentina had excused herself to go grab a bite to eat before reopening the shop. left
"I'm sorry, Riff." Tony said, after they'd struggled to get Riff into his bed. "The party was my idea. I should have known it would be too much."
"Not your fault." Riff shrugged. He glanced around his new room. "You guys did a nice job setting this up. It's nicer than my room at home."
"It was all Valentina." Tony said with a grin. "I did the heavy lifting but she did the rest."
"I guess I owe her one." Riff looked around the room again.
The furniture was worn but well cared for. His bed was comfortable with nice clean sheets. His comforter (at least that's what Riff thought it was called-he'd never had one before) was his favorite thing in the room. It was a quilt made up of different swatches of blues and blacks-his two favorite colors.
"She was really excited to have you here, Riff." Tony said. "She wanted to do it. I know you guys haven't always seen eye to eye but she does care."
"Guess I'll knock off the old hag jokes." Riff grinned, "At least for a few days."
"That's a start." Tony rolled his eyes, "Do you need anything before I go. You look tired. You probably really should take a nap or something."
"I'm good." Riff said, "I guess I'll catch ya later."
"Alright." Tony nodded, "I'll catch ya later."
Once Tony was gone, Riff finally let the tears he had been holding in since that moment in front of the mirror fall.
Riff knew he wasn't much. Actually Riff, for the very first time in his life, felt like he could be, maybe be, possibly be nothing at all.
