Dave Batista swallowed and shifted his impressive weight from one foot to the other. "I don't know if you should try to do anything with him when he's asleep. What if he wakes up?"
"Well," the doctor said. "You're his friend. Calm him down if he does."
Dave frowned at that. He didn't like the look of all the large, stainless steel tools flickering in the hospital's bright artificial lights. The fact that they were going to be used to stitch Rey up made him like them even less.
Dave Batista had been secretly attracted to his close friend and coworker, Rey Mysterio, for years. Dave had superficially admired Rey's looks ever since he had met the luchador, but he had begun to develop a serious attraction only after the death of their mutual friend, Eddie Guerrero. Eddie's death had drawn Rey and Dave closer and ever since then they had been the best of friends. The affection Dave had felt ever since then was one-sided. Dave sensed this; almost painfully so every time the two of them were alone together.
Rey was so kind to him, so friendly, so trusting. And yet it never occurred to him to think of Dave as handsome or as an object of affection. But Rey had a big heart and his frequent hugs and kisses on the cheek were what Dave lived for. Unfortunately, Dave accepted those touches a little too hopefully, and he reasoned with himself on an almost daily basis that the presence of one extra kiss on the cheek was a legitimate reason to sustain his crush on Rey.
He always stayed close to Rey when he could and always hoped that Rey would one day see him in the same light. But Dave couldn't do more than hope quietly, and secretly, that their friendship would lead to other things. Dave couldn't steal Rey from his wife and children, not when Rey was so happily married, and so loving towards his kids.
As for now, though, Dave only wanted to be here for Rey in case he woke up while they were stitching him. He had come to the hospital as soon as he could, throwing a suitcase together and driving off practically right after getting off the phone with the hospital.
Rey had just come from surgery, where a huge gash in his right leg had been operated on. His muscles had been sewn back together in the correct places. Now he had to have the gash stitched up before he could receive another blood transfusion. Dave's secreted romantic feelings for Rey made him uncomfortable, to say the least, in this situation. After all, Rey was the last person he wanted to see with a serious injury. But the procedure had to be done.
He positioned himself to the left side of Rey's bed, where Rey's face was turned, and opposite of where the doctors, nurses and their equipment were.
Dave watched the little figure breathe quietly, his mouth covered by an oxygen mask. The machines around him pumped air, and monitored his vitals, expanding and contracting patiently.
A nurse shifted the blue surgical sheet material covering Rey's right thigh. She braced the leg as another nurse prepared the needle.
The doctor slipped the needle in through the gash and Dave looked away quickly. There was so much red, vulnerable flesh visible. He knew he had been disinfected before coming in here and that he and everyone else were wearing surgical masks, but still, that amount of exposed muscle worried him.
He watched Rey's face and couldn't help but glance back at the stitching every now and then.
"We will do three different rows of stitching, this is a long cut here, and not all of it is straight."
Dave nodded.
When he glanced up he saw a pair of huge, thick metal scissors slip near the gash, the thread in between its blades, threatening to bite down for the first time.
Batista glanced quickly at Rey's face again. He heard a soft sound and Rey's brow wrinkled and expanded, and his eyes cracked slowly open.
Batista gulped apprehensively as the needle closed in towards the gash.
Rey flinched and became fully awake.
He panicked and squeaked in his throat, scrambling a little, only able to move one of his arms, because the other was numb and full of IVs.
Rey was going to reach toward the cut leg, instinctively trying to fend off the perceived threat.
Batista grabbed Rey's hand and led it away from the gash.
"Rey-Rey, it's me, it's Dave."
Rey lifted his eyes to Batista and tried to talk, but he made a strange sound and started, disturbed by the plastic tube in his throat. He became irritated by it and tried to cough it out.
"Rey, don't do that. Calm down. That's a breathing tube down your throat. You can't breathe on your own just yet. You were in an accident."
Rey looked up at Dave fearfully, his eyes huge, his pupils fully dilated.
"Its okay, Rey. You've been under anesthesia for a while, and now they're trying to stitch your right calf up. Just sit still."
Rey breathed and tried to speak again.
Batista had Rey's hand in between his two. He squeezed it gently. "Shh, Rey-Rey, don't try to talk. I'm right here. Right here. It's okay. It might hurt a little, but its okay."
Rey quieted down. He turned his head apprehensively towards his right leg, saw all the people and the shiny metal tools and he quickly turned back to face Dave.
He squeezed his friend's hand.
Dave smiled sadly. "It's okay," he whispered soothingly. "Just sit still and it'll be over in a minute. I'm right here."
Rey kept his big brown eyes on Dave and stilled.
The nurse braced his leg again and Rey closed his eyes, afraid.
Batista rubbed Rey's fingers with his thumb. "Shh," he murmured.
Then he looked up and nodded the go ahead to the doctor.
The second row of stitching didn't hurt Rey much. The third didn't hurt him, either, until it reached his ankle, where some of his skin was swollen and they pulled the thread through a little too suddenly as they tied it up.
Rey felt a profound pinch and winced, whimpering.
Batista clenched his jaw at this. "Stop being rough with him, what's wrong with you?"
"We have to do a fourth row near his ankle. That's the best we can do. We can't just leave that area exposed, no matter how swollen the skin around it is."
They cut the third row of stitches very close to the skin and Rey flushed in pain and fear and began trembling.
Batista couldn't imagine what it must have been like for Rey to wake up and find himself in pain; suddenly numb, and helpless.
He rubbed Rey's hand encouragingly as he saw the little guy grow paler, near fainting as he shivered, the thread stabbing into him with each small stroke and pulling his swollen skin together, tight.
"Rey, squeeze my hand if it hurts."
Rey gripped Batista's hand as hard as he could. Then, finally, mercifully, the last row of stitching was cut and complete.
Rey didn't let up his grip. His leg was so sore and inflamed towards the ankle.
The nurses and doctor busied themselves with removing the stitching materials and bringing in the blood transfusion things.
When they were looking elsewhere, Batista shifted the hand not in Rey's grip and stroked Rey's cool, clammy cheek.
Rey opened his eyes slightly.
"Rey-Rey? You okay now?"
Rey blinked once in the affirmative.
Batista smiled. "I'm glad."
Rey's eyelid began to drop. He felt so woozy from the loss of blood, so sore on his leg, and so tired.
He tried to stay awake and be with Dave. Maybe Dave could explain what was going on.
"It's all right. Go back to sleep," Dave murmured.
Rey closed his eye and Batista laid Rey's loosened hand down beside him, tucking the small body up as much as possible.
A nurse came back in, followed by other with the packet of blood on an IV stand.
"Can you put him out for that? Give him a sedative?" Batista requested.
"Yes, I'll knock him out for a while."
Batista looked at Rey. "He's fading out, anyway. I just don't want him to be in any pain from the surgery."
They injected something into the IV stand once they had the blood transfusion firmly placed in Rey's arm.
Batista bent and kissed Rey's temple intimately, and Rey sighed once and drifted away.