A/N - It's been an incredibly crazy October for me, but the best part is that tomorrow, my best friend and I are going to Michigan to see Randolph Mantooth in a play called "Superior Donuts". YAY! I can't wait!

What a Pain! Chapter Twenty-Nine

The next morning after breakfast, Mike was sitting on the side of his bed, waiting for Doctor Early to finish with his examination. Between bits of conversation, Stoker stared at the gray and white tiles on the floor. One had a pale red stain on it from...what? Mercurochrome, maybe? It made him think of the slate-colored parquet in his foyer, which led to thoughts of the night he and Cap and Johnny were attacked. Cap's blood pooling there...Johnny...Roy finding him... He shook his head of those thoughts and blew out a breath. He really did try to not let his thoughts run away with him, but sometimes...

As part of his discharge, the physical therapists had watched him walk down the hall, checking his gait and balance. He had minimal lingering muscle weakness and his balance was pretty good considering everything he'd been through; even his hair had almost grown back. He was getting impatient to return to the life he had before all hell broke loose.

Early detected Mike's anxiety and smiled, "Your blood pressure has stabilized nicely, Mike. I think everything's looking good," he said with a friendly pat to the Engineer's back. "How do you feel about getting out of here tomorrow?"

There really was nothing more Mike was looking forward to than just getting home and going back to work. "Rrreally?" Mike asked happily, I'd l-love that!" He paused a moment, "But, uh, c-can I ssstay alone? I don't wwwant to put my neigh-bors out any mmmore. My sis-ter will be coming to visit too prrretty soon, so..." His voice faded away. He fully expected Doctor Early to tell him "no" and that he'd have to have a "babysitter" again.

"I think you can do that, Mike. Really, I do believe another couple of weeks rest and a few more physical therapy sessions, and you'll be ready to go back to work. Now, of course you'll have to wait another few weeks before you can drive again, especially the engine. I think you should put a call in to the Chief to see if you'll need to retake the engine certification."

Mike took a deep breath as Doctor Early used the stethoscope once more. He looked toward the door of his room and concentrated on going home.

Doctor Early continued, "I think we'll send you home with a cane just to keep handy. Use it if you feel you need it, but you won't have to rely on it. Oh, and if you're wondering, I fully expect your speech to straighten out with a few sessions of speech therapy, but there shouldn't be any reason you can't go back to work even if it doesn't right itself immediately."

Mike heaved a sigh and smiled. "Th-thank you ssso much, D-Doctor Early. I rrreally needed to hear that."

"It is truly my pleasure, Mike," Doctor Early told him. "There is nothing more I enjoy than a real success story. I'll be back in to see you in the morning before you're discharged, but I think you can go ahead and arrange for a ride home."

Cap, meanwhile, was also chomping at the bit to go home. Doctor Ramsey, Cap's surgeon, was a tall, handsome black man with salt-and-pepper hair that wrapped around the sides of his head like a wreath of laurel leaves. He wasn't overly friendly, and Cap got the impression he was the type that watched his patients like a hawk. At least once, and sometimes twice a day, he'd been in to inspect Cap's wound. Each time, he'd "hmmm" as he poked and prodded, and Cap winced when a particularly tender spot was touched. Ramsey had said it was healing well, but still, he wanted Cap to wait another day or so before he could be discharged. It would be several days yet before the stitches would be removed, so no physical therapy until then.

"Um, Doctor Ramsey, how long do you think I'll be off work?" Cap asked with a smile that barely hid his frustration.

"Hmm," Doctor Ramsey said again, "Mr. Stanley, I would say..." he squinted and poked, "at least another six weeks, hmmm...maybe eight. I do like the looks of things, and I don't see any signs of infection, but neither do I like to take chances."

"I already figured that one out," Cap thought, flatly, "I see. Well, okay."

"Not to worry, Mr. Stanley, I've done many surgeries such as yours and have never had a problem yet. You'll be just fine; I'll be in later tonight to check on you again." He stood to his full six-foot, four-inch height. "Have a good day, Mr. Stanley."

Doctor Ramsey gave a slight wave as he left, but no smile. Cap wasn't sure if he felt reassured or intimidated by the man. He was so accustomed to being called "Captain" or "Cap" that being called "Mr. Stanley" just seemed odd. Still, Cap didn't feel right correcting the man. He sat back on the bed and waited for his wife to return.

Johnny awoke that morning to the sounds of breakfast being delivered. A nurse came in to deliver his pain meds and help him sit up in bed. Johnny groaned and gasped with each movement. "Here now," she tutted as she handed over the pills, "Take these before you eat." She watched to make sure Gage downed all the pills, checked his IV and bandages, then left him to eat. "Enjoy your breakfast!" she chirped.

Hospital food was never something to look forward to, and knowing he'd have to stick to soft items made him attempt to curl his swollen lip in disgust before even looking under the plate cover. Warily, he uncovered the plate and stared at what he'd been brought. As he suspected, there was beige, unflavored Cream-of-Wheat, applesauce and the standard fare: scrambled eggs. A cup of milk rounded out the uninspired meal. Johnny sighed and picked up the straw for the milk. "At least I know the milk will taste good," he thought.

A knock on his door made him look up. "Hi, Johnny," he heard. It was Joanne DeSoto.

Johnny tried his best to smile at his friend's wife, but only managed a slightly droopy half-grin. "Mornin' Jo! Nice to see you; Roy comin' too?"

"No, they're on shift this morning. Didn't you see the note we left last night?"

Johnny looked around and finally noticed the note sticking out from under the breakfast tray. "Nope, guess not- here it is." He read it. "Aw, man, I hate that I missed you yesterday. Guess I was pretty well out of it."

"Well, don't worry, Roy will be here as often as he can, I'm sure," she assured him. "Would you like to see what I brought for you?"

Gage's eyes brightened, "Is it food?" he asked hopefully.

Joanne laughed, "As a matter of fact, it is food. Roy always complains about the hospital food so I like to bring him some goodies from home. I thought maybe you'd like some too."

"Would I ever!" An attempted smile only resulted in a grimace and an "Ow!"

"Gracious, you poor thing! Let me get rid of this, um, 'stuff'," she said, referring to the breakfast tray. She scraped most of it into the toilet and flushed it away, leaving just enough on the plate to make it seem he had eaten some of it. Johnny looked wide-eyed at the woman, and thanked his lucky stars his partner's wife was so perfectly devious. Then he tucked into a soft, yet tasty breakfast of cinnamon oatmeal, banana pudding, and soft-boiled sweet potatoes drizzled with maple syrup. A thermos of orange juice was included and Johnny was a very happy man indeed.

"As soon as the swelling goes down and I get my tooth fixed, I can eat regular foods again," Gage told her between bites, "but you can make me this stuff anytime!"

Jo smiled and promised him she would do just that. "Have the doctors said when you can go home, John?"

Gage frowned a little, "Not really. Brackett still wants me off my knee and ankle for awhile yet. I 'spect it'll be a couple'a days yet. With the ribs broken, I'll prob'ly be off work for a few weeks anyhow."

Joanne couldn't completely hide her dismay at all the bruises showing. "Well," she snickered, "once you're home, you can expect a few more meals from Chez DeSoto. You skinny guys need all the help you can get!"

Johnny chuckled and looked at Joanne with appreciation. "This is amazing. Thanks, Jo...I mean it."

Roy and Dwyer had a grand total of nine runs that day, six of which brought them to Rampart long enough for DeSoto to pop in and check on his partner.

"Back again, eh?" Johnny laughed after the third time that morning. "Thinkin' I might run off if you don't watch me?"

"Nah, just making sure you haven't taken a pretty nurse into the janitor's closet for some 'physical therapy'," Roy shot back. "Say, uh, have you had a chance to see Mike at all?"

Gage shook his head, "Nope, this morning is the first time I've been able to sit up in bed. If Brackett approves, I can maybe get out in a wheelchair today. 'Dunno when I'll get to go home. Is Stoker okay? Nothin's happened has it?"

"No, he's doing good now, I think. It's just that, well, Chet and Marco said they spent the day at Stoker's yesterday cleaning everything up and...they can't find Mike's cat anywhere. I don't think they've told him yet, either."

"Aw, man, that cat was amazing, Roy, I'm tellin' you. Do ya' think he ran off with all the excitement that night? Man, Mike's gonna be real upset if Sir Pain doesn't come back," Johnny remarked.

Meanwhile, Sir Pain had awakened from his snooze in Mike's truck and leaped out the window to the garage floor, and wandered outside to the backyard. The sun was shining again and the previous night's rain had left a bit of water in a puddle on the concrete. After a few delicate laps, Sir Pain decided food was next. He leaped to the top of the fence and began to groom himself, when his ears caught the distinct sound of Mary's voice next door.

"Paaaaaaaaaiiiin! Heeeeeeere, kitty kitty! Oh, Sir Paaaaaain!" She was tapping the side of a can of cat food and wandering around the front yard. Gus stood nearby, wringing his hands. Mary had read him the riot act several times over for letting Sir Pain get outside last night and she was worried enough for the both of them. Her imagination was running away with her as she visualized all the things that could have happened to the friendly gray cat.

Sir Pain could detect the smell of the cat food and flicked his tongue. He was hungry, but was he THAT hungry? After twenty more minutes of calling and tapping on the can, Mary hung her head and decided Sir Pain wasn't coming back that morning. Sadly, she scooped the food onto a plate and left it on the porch steps before going back inside...just in case.

Sir Pain was a sneaky one when he needed to be and leaped from the top of the fence. He crept to the shrubs surrounding Mary and Gus's house and stayed there for a minute, trying to hear their voices. He kept close to the house and skulked behind the bushes and trees, making his way to the porch steps. He padded carefully to the plate and tentatively took a few bites, keeping his eyes alert. Mary had treated him well, but he had no intention of being kept inside that house again! A few more bites, and Sir Pain unwittingly let his guard down. He was about to lick the plate clean when an excited Mary threw open the front door.

"Sir Pain!" she screamed, "you came back!"

The startled cat hunched back, frozen for just a moment, staring at Mary with wide green eyes, then leaped out of the way just as Mary dove for him. She narrowly missed him as Sir Pain tore off through the yard and across the street, disappearing among the trees. He scrambled up a large oak and stayed there, gazing down at the road, and decided that, food or no food, he'd stay up there until Mary was gone.

The day was sunny and warm, and the residential street Mike lived on was relatively quiet. Sir Pain dozed in the branches, well-hidden from Mary's scanning eyes. He was content for now, but faced Mike's house, keeping alert for the arrival of his favorite human.

The next morning at seven, Mike was already up and putting the few personal things he had with him in a bag. Chet would be arriving soon, bringing clothes for Mike to wear home. Mike thought, happily. "As soon as Doctor Early gives the okay, I'm gone!"

Luckily for Mike, Doctor Early was in by eight-thirty, and by nine had given Mike one last examination, signed his discharge papers and offered a hearty handshake. "Mike, you're doing very well, I'm quite happy with how everything turned out. Now, go on home, and I'll see you in a week for a check-up." Mike wore a grateful smile and sat back to wait for Chet. Mike was thumbing through a "Sports Illustrated", when a thump against his door announced Johnny's arrival via wheelchair.

"Hey, Stoker! You aren't thinkin' about leaving without sayin' bye, are you?" Gage smiled. His leg was propped up in the footrests as a nurse wheeled him fully inside the room, stating she'd return in twenty minutes.

"Gage!" Mike greeted him with a smile. "Mmman, I'm glaaad to see y-you," he stuck out a hand to Johnny who took it in a firm grasp. "but y-you look like crap," he laughed.

"Yeah, I know. All black and purple- Chet says I look like giant raisin."

Mike grinned at first, then it faded, "Um, look, I'm rrreally s-sorry. Y-you going to be o-kay?"

Johnny snorted, "Yeah, eventually. Jerk broke a coupla' ribs and messed up my knee and ankle pretty good. Shoulder's pretty whacked too, but I'll be alright." His voice softened, "You, um,...know Jordan's dead, right?"

"Yeah, Doc Ear-Early told mmme. I, um, w-wasn't sure how I fffelt about that at first, y-you know? I didn't like th-thinking that he d-deser-ved it."

"I get ya'", Johnny replied. "But, honestly...I'm glad he's gone."

Chet walked in just then and stopped short when he saw his friends looking at each other in silence. He cleared his throat quietly, "Uh, guys? E-everything okay in here?"

Mike and Johnny looked up at Chet and grinned. Johnny winked at Mike as if to say, "follow my lead."

Johnny gasped, "Aw, Mike! We forgot to call Chet!"

"Call me? Why?" Chet asked, becoming concerned.

"We meant to tell you Chet, it's just that, Mike and I here, we've, well...we've kinda' BONDED from this experience, you know?" He reached over and took Mike's hand in his. Understanding the joke, Stoker smiled coyly at Johnny, then looked up at Chet's befuddled expression.

"Ch-chet, what G-Gage is trrrying to say is, well, we-we're mmmoving in to-gether."

Johnny perfected a shy blush and grasped Stoker's hand a little tighter. Stoker wrapped his arm around Johnny's shoulder. Chet stood there, mouth agape and eyes wide, struggling to think of SOMETHING to say.

"Yep. When I get outta' here, I'll be moving all my stuff to his place. But Chet, this doesn't change anything, you know," Johnny told him. "We can still be friends...even if Mike and I are..." he gazed up at Stoker, "so much more than friends now."

Chet finally sputtered, "Uh...friends? Y-Yeah, sure...uh, we can be, um, friends...um, does, does Cap know?"

"Oh, y-yes, Cap knows," Mike said, dreamily, "he's v-very sup-portive of us."

"He is?" Chet squeaked. "Um, I mean, th-that's good...yeah, good." He fidgeted and blushed and stumbled over his words until finally Mike couldn't resist adding the coup de grâce.

"Chet, thi-this just f-feels right. E-Ever since Mmmarco and I brroke up..."

"What?!" Chet squawked, "Marco? But he never said...I mean we just went to your place and he never...well, I mean, this just..." Chet couldn't seem to get a single coherent sentence to exit his mouth and John and Mike were nearly trembling with held-in laughter.

As Chet was sputtering, Dixie popped her head in the room. "Hi, fellas!" she greeted. "Mike, I wanted to say goodbye to you before you left. Doctor Early said you're free to go."

She took in the scene before her and raised an eyebrow. Clearly there was some sort of joke at Chet's expense going on, but she couldn't figure out what it was. Johnny winked at her and patted Mike's hand.

"Ah!" Dixie thought with a smile. "Oh, that's good! Cruel, but good."

"Well, Chet, let's get Mike here ready to go!" Dixie announced. She assisted Stoker to his feet and handed him the bag from the bed. He signed all the right papers and plopped down in the hospital-required wheelchair Dixie had brought along.

Mike turned around toward Johnny and whispered, "Goodbye, honey. I'll see you soon."

Johnny gasped, trying desperately to keep from howling. "Bye, sweetie!" For extra good measure, he blew a kiss to Mike. Chet nearly fainted.

Mike held his possessions on his lap and lifted his feet into the rests. "Home, James!" he ordered Chet.

Smiling weakly, Chet told Gage and Dixie goodbye and pushed Stoker out to his van, muttering and shaking his head. As soon as the door closed behind them, Johnny and Dixie howled and laughed until Johnny couldn't stand it anymore. He wiped tears from his eyes. His ribs were killing him, but man, it was worth it.