As David was about the knock on the door, he heard a thump and a loud curse. His heart skipped a beat. Colby hadn't been answering the phone. His physical therapist had called Don to say that he hadn't been to any of his therapy sessions in that past week. Then, there was a call from the mental therapist. And now he was cursing.
David pulled out the key he kept in his wallet just in case and used it on the peeling apartment door. "Colby?" He called out as he entered the front hall, looking around for traces of life. He heard a mumbling of curses from the bedroom and followed them instinctively.
He stuck his head around the doorframe, slightly afraid of what he might find. "Colb?" Colby was crumpled on the floor, with only a pair of jeans on, revealing a muscled chest and stomach with a few seemingly random scars, ones David never even knew about.
"'m fine…" came a mumble from somewhere in the tangle of Colby. There was some attempted movement and Colby came into a kneeling position. He sat back onto his heels and shut his eyes.
"You're not even supposed to walk without a person to escort you. What were you doing?" David glanced around. His weary eyes finally landed on an amber vial on the table, one from the drug store down the street. "Oh… I thought the doctor said you shouldn't need those by now…"
Colby opened his eyes and sighed. "I'm not supposed to need them, but I can still feel it. Hurts…" The familiar green eyes darted around, exhausted but alert. "I'm sick of being still." David noticed the dark circles beneath his partner's eyes. Colby's muscles looked tensed, as if he hadn't even been still in ages. The big agent was somehow smaller, thinner maybe. The whole ordeal had been rough.
David helped Colby up slowly, who groaned mildly and fell ungracefully back onto the bed. There was a big sigh and a cough. "You've gotta start taking care of yourself, man. You won't ever be able to walk if you don't give your body time to heal first. You have to go to therapy, to get your mind back on track. You've been through a lot in these past few years and one day with a therapist isn't going to help you." When David saw his words were coming to no avail, he regretfully brought up a subject that he knew would hit home. "You're tearing Don up, too. He feels so… guilty." He paused, making sure that this was okay ground to tread on. "He didn't even want to come see you like this. He thinks it's his fault. You have to get better so he can feel better."
Colby's fingers made their way on his nose in between his eyes. David could almost see the migraine headache that was behind the weary eyes. The mouth that so often smiled was now always in a scowling frown. And as if in the middle of a storm, instead of taking cover, he had to be the one to run in the middle and rebuild the house that had been knocked down.