What a Pain! -Chapter Fifteen
By the time the sun was nearly setting in Carson, Mike was still sleeping on the sofa, albeit restlessly. Cap had made dinner for the both of them by warming up one of the many dishes that were in the fridge, lovingly placed there by several well-meaning neighbors.
This one appeared to be something with mushrooms and rice and some sort of white meat. He picked through it suspiciously, and hoped the meat was chicken. Whatever it was didn't seem to matter to Sir Pain, as he happily gobbled up everything Hank tossed to him from the table.
Aside from the cat, however, Hank ate alone, as he didn't feel Mike needed to be awakened just yet. The shock of hearing a killer may be looking for you would be enough to send anyone into a panic and he could tell that's what it did to his engineer. Cap understood that emotions still ran high with Stoker and might yet for a while until he was totally healed, and according to Dr. Early, Mike needed to keep as calm as possible.
"Ha. Fat chance of that now!" Cap thought, disgustedly. "All it takes is some nut-job thinking he can do whatever he wants, and innocent people are caught in the middle." Hank sighed...he would never understand some people.
With his friend asleep in the living room, Hank was bored. The TV would be too loud, as would talking on the phone, and he'd already read three chapters in the rather uninteresting book he'd brought along. He almost wished he had a crocheting project like his wife always seemed to have handy. He'd been the recipient of many a pair of slippers and their kitchen had far more than its fair share of pot-holders his wife had made, all in the name of staving off boredom. He stood at the picture window and stared out at the street. What if the murderer was still in Carson? What if he was actually watching Mike's house at this very minute? Hank shuddered, turned around, and closed the drapes again. "This is ridiculous. No sense in getting wound up over nothing," he admonished himself silently.
There came a soft "Ugh" from the sofa, and Cap saw Mike trying to sit up. He'd been sleeping for over three hours and Cap figured he could guess why Mike was awake now.
"Need some help, pal?" Cap asked.
"Uh, oh, hi, C-cap," Mike yawned. "I forgot you w-were here." He rubbed his eyes and stretched his good shoulder while holding on to the injured one. Sir Pain-in-the-Butt jumped down to the floor and padded out to the garage to take care of his own needs. "I c-can get up, Cap," Mike told him, "I just gotta t-take a leak. Hand mmme the crutch?"
"Sure, pal, here ya' go." Hank handed the crutch to Mike and watched as the man went down the hall towards the bathroom. When he finished, Mike stood to the side of the room, attempting to avoid the mirror. Try as he might, though, Mike couldn't seem to not look at himself. Each time he did, he examined the wound made by the surgery, tapped around on the fading bruises and ran a finger over the bristly patch of regrowing hair. It was getting better, but the sight of it still made him wince. Sighing, he washed up and left the bathroom.
When he returned, Cap said, "Hey, how about we take your vitals again, and then I'll warm up some more of that, uh, that...dinner I had tonight. I bet you're hungry."
"Dinner?" Mike asked, "Wh-what did y-you have?"
Cap mumbled something that sounded like 'Idaho' and Mike raised a single eyebrow and looked quizzically at his Captain.
"Idaho? As in p-potatoes?"
"Uh, no, I said, uh...'I don't know.'"
"You d-don't know what you a-ate?" Mike snorted a laugh.
"Welll, it was some kind of casserole from Mary and it was rice with, um, something else and I think maybe chicken was in there too," Cap said, defensively. "Anyway, it was pretty good... Pain liked it too."
"Alright, I'll h-have some," Mike laughed as they made their way to the kitchen.
Mike sat in a kitchen chair and watched as Hank popped the still warm casserole dish from the oven. Soon, there was a plateful of the 'dinner' in front of Mike along with a tall glass of milk.
"Here," Cap said as he pulled a chair up to Mike's side, "let me check your BP and such first."
"Yeah, okay," Mike answered, not terribly enthused.
The BP cuff hissed as it deflated and Cap placed his fingers on Mike's wrist to check his pulse. Both were excellent.
"Nice, Mike. Everything looks good. You belly up to the table here and I'll go write these down."
When the Captain returned, he noticed Mike staring off, seemingly unaware of his presence. "Mike?" he asked softly, "Hey...you in there?"
"Huh? Oh...yeah. Sorry, Cap. I was just thinking," Mike replied.
"I'll bet." Hank moved to sit down next to Mike, and nervously rearranged the salt and pepper shakers and napkins , trying to keep his hands occupied. "Look, uh, I know this nutter has you shook up, Mike, but, they'll get him. You'll be okay, you know? Nothing to worry about."
Mike nodded and picked up the fork to dig in. It had been over two weeks since he was hurt and the whole lingering situation was wearing on him. His headache was still present, and his shoulder was still sore, but at least he could use his right hand again now that the stitches had been removed. Glancing at the reddened scar that lined his palm, he instinctively flexed his hand and watched as the tight, tender skin stretched and whitened with each movement. "Wonder if that'll ever go away," he mused to himself. Shaking his head slightly to dismiss the thoughts, he gripped the fork again and lifted a bite to his mouth. Surprisingly, the mystery casserole seemed quite tasty and Mike debated whether it really was well made or if he was just simply famished. "Doesn't matter," he thought as he ate. "I need to eat and this is as good as anything."
Cap then brought Mike's pain pills and other meds out and put them by his plate.
"Don't forget these, Michael," he reminded.
"B-believe me, I won't," Mike answered, flatly. "I really am tired of th-the 24-hour head-aaache thing."
Now that there had been no additional seizures since before he was released from Rampart, he was being weaned off the anti-seizure medication. With luck, he'd soon be off them for good. He downed the pain killers and the antibiotics with the last of the milk and went to rummage around in his cabinets for something sweet. He found the pop-tarts and the other less-than-nutritious food Johnny had bought, and smiled when he finally came across the Oreos.
"Oh, yeah!" he smiled, as he took a butter knife and stabbed open the package. He refilled his glass of milk and sat back down, with six Oreos waiting to be dunked. Stoker was clearly happy with his choice of dessert.
Cap stared at Stoker and was bemused with his uncharacteristic behavior. He waited until Mike noticed him staring.
"Oh, uh, s-sorry, Cap," Mike said, munching happily, "Here, have a c-couple."
"Don't mind if I do, Mike, don't mind if I do," Hank said, smiling. He poured a tall glass of milk for himself and removed several cookies from the package.
Just as both men had a mouthful of cookies, they heard Sir Pain's blood-curdling screech and a tremendous crash from the garage. Startled, Mike nearly choked on his milk, and Cap swiftly jumped from his seat and ran to the garage door. He was nearly bowled over by an obviously panicked Sir Pain skittering in. The cat's eyes were wide and his fur completely fuzzed up as he flashed across the floor and into the living room. The cat was running much too fast for either Mike or Cap to see where he went, so Cap flipped on the light-switch and peered inside the attached garage. A small shelf near the door leading to the backyard had fallen and everything it held had crashed to the floor. There had been an almost-empty paint can, several brushes, a coffee-can that held dozens of nuts, bolts and screws and a one-pound bag of birdseed up there. Luckily, it looked like at least the paint can had kept its lid on, but everything else was scattered all over the floor.
"Aw, cat!" Mike snarled. "How did he even ma-manage to get up to that sh-shelf in the first place?"
Cap pulled back on Mike's arm and steered him back to the kitchen table.
"Don't worry, Mike, it's okay. We'll take care of it in the morning," he assured him. "Let's get back to the cookies, eh?"
Mike shook his head, muttering about the mess, as he trudged slowly back to the kitchen table. While the two friends finished their snack, Sir Pain was under the sofa, growling softly. He had been scared badly and he wasn't at all happy about it. When Cap and Mike retired to the living room, all that could be seen of the cat was a partially exposed tail flicking angrily from his hiding spot.
Mike and Hank relaxed and had been watching TV for nearly a half-hour before Sir Pain decided to emerge. Mike coaxed the cat up to his lap and began to pet his feline friend. Stoker then stretched his legs out on the sofa and Cap pulled the lever on the recliner to lift his own feet up. With the television murmuring in the background and Sir Pain purring gently, it didn't take long for all three of them to succumb to sleep once again.
Down the block, the policemen assigned to patrol Mike's street were talking with two policemen in another car who had been patrolling one block over. A bulletin had come across the radio and the four men were discussing it excitedly. Neither they nor the cat, nor the dozing firemen noticed the dark figure slithering over Mike's backyard fence and down the street.