All the credit and the royalties for the characters below belong to JE.
Jenny (JenRar) I don't have the right words to thank you for your hard work as the beta on this story. That's probably because when I get stuck on something you help me to fix it, so please feel free to insert your own compliment here.
Chapter 5 – Drugs and the Power of a Friend
After Bobby left, I stood at the front door, wondering what I had gotten myself into. Obviously Manny was upset that RangeMan had gone behind his back and acted on his behalf, and he seemed even less thrilled about how they'd gotten him out of the hospital. And since I was the only person here and the one that had paraded around going on and on about how this was my husband, I had a feeling he was going to have a lot to say that I wasn't going to want to hear.
I stood there, trying to come up with an opening line to say when I got back to the den, and coming up completely blank. Honestly, I was hiding because I didn't want him to fuss at me, but that sounded like a wimp's way out, so coming up with something to say gave me a justification for staying out of his sight.
"You're no coward," I heard as plain as day in a voice that I swore sounded like Nagypapa's whisper.
Damn, I hadn't gotten the nap I'd been hoping for while Bobby was here, and now it was too late and I was losing my mind.
Deciding it was better to have Manny yell at me than the whispered voice of someone who'd been dead for twenty years, I found the strength to push away from the front door and head back into the den.
Manny's eyes were closed, and at first glance, it appeared he was asleep, but I could see the hard lines in his face, and since I knew how relaxed he looked when he was really out of it, I knew he was faking. Figuring two could play at that game, I chose to ignore him. I picked up the notes Bobby had referred to and began reading about what I needed to do differently.
If I'd thought it had been difficult to keep up with his treatment so far, I'd had no idea what was in store for me. Now he needed to begin some simple movements and stretches to keep his strength in the leg and arm he could still use. I had to begin introducing a liquid diet if Manny would cooperate, and we needed to get him drinking in small increments to subsidize the nutrients from his IV. There were all kinds of other suggestions of things to do or not do, as well, and my mind began to swim from all the information.
When my stomach started growling, I decided I'd absorbed as much as I could for now, and I went to the kitchen to find something that I could eat. It didn't take long to find an Ella meal, premade with microwave instructions on top, so I heated it up and stood at the sink to eat the casserole of sorts with cheese, chicken, and noodles. I wanted to go out to the den where it would be more comfortable, but it seemed wrong to eat in front of someone who hadn't been cleared for food yet, so I cleaned my plate as quickly as possible, trying to make no noise as I ate.
"You don't have to hide in there," Manny called out at the exact moment I took my last bite.
"What makes you think I'm hiding?" I asked, without moving from the sink.
"You don't cook," he replied, as though it were obvious. "Of all the rooms it would make sense for you to hang out in, the kitchen is the least likely."
I took my time washing my fork and plate, putting them in the drain to dry, and then moved to the den, hoping my own temper would cool off before I saw him.
"I was having something to eat, not hiding. But next time, I'll be sure to bring my food in here and wave it in front of your face before informing you that you can't have any."
He made a sound I couldn't identify that could have been irritation at my come back or irritation at himself for missing what I was doing and jumping to the wrong conclusion.
"Look, I get that you're stuck here with me, and I don't know what the boss had to threaten you with to get you to do this, so you don't have to avoid me at all costs. I know you've been drafted here just like me," he offered as an explanation. I couldn't tell if that was supposed to be an apology, but I elected to take it as an olive branch.
"Actually, he didn't threaten," I pointed out, thinking it might help if he knew why I was here. "He said he needed help, so I volunteered."
"Bet you'll think twice about volunteering next time, won't you?" he laughed without really sounding amused.
"Not really," I countered. "You guys have all done a lot for me, so if there's something that I can do to repay that, I'm happy to help."
"Ah, guilt. Now it makes sense," he mumbled.
"Excuse me? I don't understand what you mean." I was trying to be polite, but something in the way he'd said that made me feel like I'd been insulted.
"Guilt," he repeated. "It's a powerful motivator. You aren't here because you want to be; you're here because you feel guilty about what Ranger's done for you, so you're trying to repay the debt."
I stood there for a minute, trying to figure out how to respond. I could feel my temper rising, and even though I knew rhino mode in this situation wasn't fair to Manny, I couldn't stop myself. "Did you just call me some sort of RangeMan business whore?"
"Where in the hell did you get that?" He jerked his head to finally look directly at me.
"I'm paying off a debt to Ranger by doing whatever services he requests out of guilt?" I rephrased what he'd said.
"That's not how I meant it," he replied.
"I think until the drugs are out of your system a little more to clear your head, you should refrain from trying to explain yourself any further," I advised, for once thinking sitting in silence would be preferable to this conversation.
"I'm not trying to be a jerk," he said softly, making me regret speaking so harshly to him. "It's just that of all the people they could have tapped to put on lockdown with me, it makes no sense for Ranger to pick you, because it puts you in danger."
Now it was my turn to laugh without much real humor in it. "We may not have worked together that much, but you should know by now that my life seems to be in near constant danger on its own. This isn't anything out of the ordinary for me. If you aren't happy about being stuck with the incompetent girl then just say so. You don't have to make up reasons to blame Ranger."
"I never called you incompetent," he blurted out with strength in his voice.
I believed him, which did a great deal to diffuse my growing irritation.
"You're untrained and unpredictable, which can be a dangerous combination, but you've been able to make it work for you so far, so who am I to judge?"
"So you're just mad at the situation?" I tried to clarify. "Not necessarily mad about being trapped here with me?"
He hesitated before answering and then replied, "I'm not one of the guys that believes you can do no wrong and you're an angel sent to walk among us, if that's what you're asking. If I'm angry at anybody, it's Ranger for intentionally doing something I'd made clear I didn't want done. My attitude has nothing to do with who I'm stuck with here."
"Trust me, I think most of the guys agree that I'm no angel, and I've given them more than enough evidence about how much I can do wrong. If anything, you should be questioning what you did to deserve being saddled with me as your only company for a while," I bluntly pointed out. I knew I was basically kicking him while he was down, but his whole attitude was making it hard for me to keep my mouth shut.
Without bothering to ask if he needed anything, I went to the kitchen and found a cup with a lid and straw that Ella had brought, filled it with water, and brought it back to Manny. "Here," I said, lowering the straw to his lips.
He tried to take it, but I had to hold it for him, as his hand wasn't cooperating.
"Bobby said the drugs would keep you really foggy," I explained when he took a sip and then grimaced upon swallowing. I might be irritated with his attitude, but there was no way I was going to gloat in his suffering. "Is there anything I can get for you, to help you be more comfortable?"
He released the straw after another, longer draw on it and shook his head no. "I'm guessing I'm not allowed to have anything, right?"
"We could try sitting the bed up a little, which would let you watch some television." I pointed to a flat screen the guys had mounted on the wall straight ahead of him. "And if you're in pain, I give you some meds for that of various strengths, depending on how bad it is."
"No more drugs," he quickly stated.
I tried to keep from smiling at that comment. "Bobby said there are some meds that are non-negotiable. There's an antibiotic and an anti-inflammatory that you absolutely must take. He has three different kinds of pain relief, but stated for the next twenty-four hours, you have to have something at least every four hours. I've also got a little something that will help you sleep at night if the pain is keeping you from resting."
"Damn, I'm stuck in a bed, pissing in a fucking bag, and being pumped full of a freaking pharmacy," his mumbled, allowing his eyes to close as he listed off his condition. "And Bobby wants to know why I'm irritated that he pulled me out to keep somebody from offing me while I was unconscious."
When he put it like that, it was hard to argue against it, so I decided to try what I was best at and work a little distraction. "I'm going to watch a game," I stated out of the blue. "Do you want me to do it in the living room so I don't disturb you, or do you want it in here so you can have a little something to look at, too?"
"It makes no difference," he replied with a voice devoid of emotion.
I took that as permission to do it in the den, so I grabbed the remote, found a hockey game with the Rangers playing and then bumped the angle of his bed up slightly so he could see the screen if he wanted to.
Three hours later, he was asleep, so I decided to try the middle option of the three Bobby had provided for pain management and injected that while he was too out of it to fight me. I knew he'd said no to any drugs and I should probably feel bad about disregarding another of his wishes, but at the moment, I was more concerned about how much grumpier he'd be if he were in pain. I didn't think I could handle him if he was even worse than he'd been before his most recent nap.
My cell phone rang after I'd finished topping off Manny's medication, so I jumped to grab it before it woke him up.
Cal's friendly voice responded to my greeting. "Hey, Steph. How would you feel about a little company?"
A noise of agreement came out of me before I could edit it down.
A laugh came back before he instructed, "Then come open the door, and I'll amaze you with my skills in conversation."
I punched in the code and swung the door open to see the smiling face of Cal with his cell phone still at his ear. He shut his phone and stepped in to draw me to him in a hug.
"It's good to see you, Steph," he spoke against my hair.
After his friendly greeting, I reset the alarm while he called the control room to report the door being opened, and then we walked into the den, where Manny was still snoozing in front of the commentary after the game I'd been watching.
I grabbed the remote to turn it off, but Cal shook his head and reached out for the controller, which I surrendered, rolling my eyes at how no guy can be in a room with a television unless he has the ability to control the device himself. I walked around the bed and handed the remote to Cal, who sat in the easy chair and then grabbed my wrist to pull me into his lap.
Feeling too tired to fight him, I didn't argue about it and flopped down, glad to be getting a little comfort, even if it was coming from a person I wouldn't have expected it from.
"How are you holding up?" he asked gently, pushing my head to rest on his shoulder.
"I'm okay," I replied more from habit than fact.
"You're lying, but I'm going to let it slide this time, since I haven't really asked you that before, but next time, I'm going to expect you to tell me the truth, okay?" Cal asked, waiting so that I had to respond.
"Deal," I responded.
He sat there, letting me melt against him, until the next game came on. "Bobby called me and suggested you might need a little break for a nap, and he thought if Manny woke up, I might be able to talk some sense into him. I've worked with him more than most of the other guys have."
There was the answer to why Cal was here. "That'd be nice," I said, hearing the slur in my speech from my exhaustion.
The pillow that was his chest vibrated with laughter at my expense. "And Tank gave me a stack of searches in case you want something to do other than stare at Manny's grumpy ass."
At the mention of Manny's ass, I remembered giving him the bath this morning and knew my face turned red. I didn't want to let Cal notice my response and push for what was so embarrassing, so I said, "Tell Tank his thoughtfulness is overwhelming."
"I'll pass it along," he replied, squeezing me in his arms again in a reassuring way. Then he stood up from the chair as though I weighed nothing and the fact he was more than capable of lifting me like a doll provided for his amusement.
A squeaking sound came from me at the unexpected movement, and I flung my arms around his neck and shoulder to hang on, like I expected his strength to run out at any moment, causing me to hit the floor.
"Which room is yours?" Cal asked, being too much a gentleman to comment on my shock at being carried.
"Down the hall, first door on the right," I replied, amazed that he took off, still carting me around as though I weighed nothing.
When we walked into the room, Cal let out a whistle. "I don't know if I should applaud their bold use of color or run screaming from the room before I go blind."
I lifted my head and noticed that from where we were standing, it was pretty bright in here. "My great-grandparents were kind of out there."
He took me over the bed and set me on it gently, following me down to place yet another kiss on my cheek. "Get some rest, angel. I'll wake you up before I have to go."
I stretched out, and then what he'd just said struck me and reminded me of Manny's hostility from earlier. "I'm not an angel, you know."
He stopped walking and asked, "Why would you say that?"
"I'm not perfect," I explained. "I'm no angel."
"The two have nothing to do with each other," he corrected me. "You're an angel not because of your ability to follow rules, but because of the effect you have on us. You make us feel better about ourselves when we're around you." Before I could respond, he shut off the lights and walked out the door, leaving me in the dark about what he was saying in more ways than one.
I woke up with a start, as though someone had grabbed me, but when I turned over and looked around, it was just me alone in the room that was an experiment in color. I pushed my palms into my eyes, wishing that would help them to focus, and while my vision was shut down, I felt like a voice entered my ears to say, "Go. He needs you now."
"Who needs me?" I asked to the mystery voice, and then shook my head, remembering that I was here alone. I wasn't sure how long I'd slept, but it was obviously not long enough to keep me sane.
Instead of waiting for an answer, I stood up and tiptoed to the door of the room, carefully listening down the hall before stepping out to announce my presence.
I could hear Cal talking, not making any attempt to soften his voice. "Damn it, man, you can't even act grateful. He could have left you there to get a bullet in the head."
"He should have left me there to take a bullet in the head," Manny replied flatly. "He took a damn foolish risk busting me out that increased the chance of him being ratted out and not being able to take down this family."
"All right, so if you're pissed at Ranger, why are you bitching about Stephanie?" Cal followed up, making me wonder what Bobby had said to the tattooed man.
I could hear Manny let out a breath. If he'd been from the 'Burg, I would have imagined a big eye roll accompanying that huff as well. "He takes us to the mats when she gets a paper cut because we weren't paying attention, and then he picks her up and has her walk around telling everybody we're married to bust me out of the hospital. It's painted a big bull's-eye on her back that didn't need to be there."
"So you're acting like an ass because you're upset that Ranger put Stephanie in danger?" Cal asked, sounding skeptical.
"No. I don't need a damn nurse. He could have put me in a rehab center or hidden me in a safe house. He didn't need to bring her into this," Manny replied, sounding tired.
"No, he couldn't," Cal interrupted. Then he went to explain why those options wouldn't work because they either put Ranger into even more danger or implicated RangeMan by interfering in a classified federal investigation. When he finished talking, there was silence.
It stretched out long enough that I began to worry, so I walked quickly down the hall and announced my presence. "Thanks for the nap, Cal."
He spun around, making me mentally cheer that I'd gotten the jump on one of the guys.
I could see him warring with himself over leaving me alone with Manny, so I jumped in again. "I really appreciate you bringing by the files, and you can tell Tank that if I can pull myself away from the jigsaw puzzles long enough, I'll get to work on those for him."
He laughed at my joke before saying, "These aren't full fledged searches. They are more specific questions he's hoping you can answer, so I only brought a little portable printer, since you shouldn't need to run a lot of paper. Let me know if you need something better and I'll swing by tomorrow night when the visibility on the house is lower."
"Will do, big guy," I replied, trying to keep things light enough that neither of them would think I'd been eavesdropping.
It took a few minutes, but I did manage to get him out of the house before he caught on to my subterfuge.
When I returned to the den, I noticed right away that Manny looked like shit. He was more pale than he had been before my nap, and from this distance across the room, he almost looked shiny, making me think he'd been sweating. I glanced at the clock and saw I'd been asleep for more than four hours, which meant we'd definitely missed his next dose of meds. Even if he wouldn't admit it, he was obviously in pain.
I made an executive decision to numb him up without asking for permission, so I began filling a syringe with the more potent pain relief and his next dosage of antibiotics and anti-inflammatory drugs. When I spun around with the needle in hand, his eyes landed on me.
"What's that?" he asked, gritting his teeth slightly.
"Does it matter?" I pushed back, knowing I could probably take him right now if he decided to physically put up a fight.
"No drugs," he repeated his earlier command. "I don't like being loopy."
"I get that," I agreed, "but you're suffering, and this kind of strain on your body slows down the healing process. Besides, it's nighttime, so you'll be sleeping anyway, and this will help."
"What's in the needle?" he asked a little more firmly. I took a step closer, and he said, "Steph, tell me what you're going to do." There was a slight tremor in his voice. It definitely wasn't fear or panic, but there was that hint that he had no control, as though he knew that if I forced the issue, I could do anything to him I wanted and he couldn't fight it. He just needed to know what was happening.
I let my hand fall to the side, still gripping the syringe, and blew out a long breath. "It's just the antibiotic, anti-inflammatory, and some pain medication."
"I hate feeling so fuzzy," he repeated.
"I didn't put anything in it to help you sleep. So the pain meds might make you tired, but they won't knock you out. I didn't think it was right to do that since you said no," I told him, explaining what I'd done and hoping he saw the compromise as a good thing.
He nodded and turned his head away from the hand with the port in it. "Thanks."
Following the directions Bobby had given me, I gave him the meds and then made a note in the chart before glancing at the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink other than water?"
"I'd love a good beer," he said with a half smile.
"If I'd known it would make you crack a joke, I'd have drugged you sooner," I replied, falsely assuming his attempt at humor was a good thing.
"Don't flatter yourself," he threw out. "I'm just biding my time until I'm able to get up."
"Save your snarky comments, Manny," I bit out, feeling him hook my temper but not able to fight it. "I can easily fill that syringe again and knock your ass out."
His eyes got slightly bigger when I stood up to him, so instead of giving him the chance to make a comment in return, I quickly spun around and walked into the kitchen, looking for something else to eat. Ella had outdone herself in fixing and stocking all my favorites, but since all I was doing was sitting around inside, I had a feeling I needed more activity to balance out the rich foods I was eating.
Tomorrow, I'd see if there were some things I could do other than play nursemaid to a grumpy patient and running searches to satisfy Tank. But tonight, I was going to follow my own advice and medicate myself, too. The pint of Ben and Jerry's hidden in the freezer was exactly what this doctor ordered.