Chapter 13
As soon as the cab pulled up in front of the hospital emergency entrance, Rachel bolted out, tote bag in hand. She paid the driver and, ignoring the incredulous stares of the guards, medical staff and incoming patients, placed her bag on the conveyor belt to check for contraband, removed it from the other side, and walked quickly to the main desk.
"Excuse me," she asked politely, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed by everyone's reactions, "I was told to ask for Artie Abrams. Please tell him that Rachel Berry is here."
"Rachel Berry?" the woman repeated," "OMG, I saw you in 'Wicked'. You were great, Ms. Berry; may I have your autograph?"
Rachel smiled as graciously as she could under the circumstances. "I'll be happy to do that for you, later; I'm a little pressed for time right now…" She saw Artie rolling up out of the corner of her eye and continued "Thank you for the compliment; I'm so glad you enjoyed the show. If you'll please excuse me…"
"Rachel?" Artie hesitantly asked.
"Yes, Artie, it's me," she assured him, touching him gently on the shoulder.
"Whoa; when Puck said you were starring in 'Wicked', he wasn't kidding."
"No, he wasn't," she agreed. "As you can see, I came right from work. After I've seen Noah, perhaps you can show me where I can 'de-greenify' myself."
"Um...sure Rachel," he complied. "Please come with me, and I'll take you to your brave firefighter."
Rachel followed Artie through a maze of beds, equipment, chairs, gurneys, and unfortunately sick or injured people, most of them staring at her unabashedly as she hurriedly passed. They eventually stopped at one of the pseudo-rooms where the curtains were completely drawn. "Go on in, Rachel," Artie quietly instructed, "Puck's in there."
"Thank you Artie," Rachel gratefully acknowledged, kissing him on the cheek, and then inspecting to make sure there were no traces of green left behind. She drew the curtains back a bit to gain entrance to the space, closing them immediately afterward to ensure privacy. Noah was lying on the bed, either sleeping or unconscious, his handsome face etched with pain. True to his word, Sam Evans was seated nearby.
"He keeps going in and out," Sam explained in a hushed voice.
"Have they taken him for a CAT scan?" she asked, using a similar tone.
"Yeah; just got the results, and there isn't any apparent damage. He's too hard-headed for that," Sam confirmed with a rueful smile.
"That's a relief," Rachel agreed. "Has the surgery been scheduled, yet?" she inquired.
"Yeah, they're taking him within the hour;" Sam confirmed, "I think they said they were prepping for it right now."
Rachel approached the bed and took Noah's hand in hers. His eyelids fluttered, and he opened his eyes, looking at her groggily. "Rach?" he hoarsely asked.
"Yes, Noah, it's me," she verified her presence. Sam quietly exited the space to give the couple some privacy.
"You're green," he commented, smiling weakly.
"Yes, at the moment I am, Noah," she replied lightly, holding back her tears.
"You're so beautiful, you could even be purple," he teased drowsily.
"Thank you, Noah," she conceded.
Rachel tried to pull up a chair, but Noah refused to let go of her hand as he gazed up at her. "Don't leave me, Rach," he pleaded.
"I won't, Noah," she assured him, smoothing back his hair with her free hand. "I'll be here as long as you want me to be."
"Then you'll never leave," he admitted. "I love you, Rachel," he quietly confessed before closing his eyes.
"I love you too, Noah", she whispered, kissing his forehead as the tears began running down her cheeks, forming green droplets on the bed sheet.
It was only a matter of minutes before the nurse arrived to begin adding the anesthesia to his IV. She looked curiously at Rachel, observing her unusual complexion, before explaining that "They'll be here shortly to take him for surgery."
"Thank you for letting me know," Rachel replied. She held tightly to his hand until the team came to transfer him to the gurney that would transport him to the surgical area. The movement awakened him slightly, and he made eye contact with Rachel. Instinctively, she lowered her head. He whispered, "Don't cry, Baby. No one can keep this badass down for long." She kissed him gently on the lips, and he smiled in response. He squeezed her hand before letting go as the gurney rolled away.
Both Sam and Artie approached Rachel at once. "You two have been wonderful," Rachel gratefully acknowledged, "but you need to go home to your families. I'll be fine."
"I talked to Britt, and she already got a sitter," Sam confided. "She should be here shortly."
"That's so kind of her, but it's really not necessary," Rachel protested.
"Rachel, Britt and I have known Puck since we were kids," he explained. "We wouldn't be anywhere else."
"I'll stay until Brittany gets here," Artie confirmed. "I'll have to head for home, then, though. Kitty's having cravings, and if I don't bring her some egg rolls, she'll have my head on a platter," he joked, trying his best to lighten the somber mood.
"You two are amazing friends," Rachel averred. "Artie, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know where I can clean up," she requested, momentarily changing the subject, "before I turn everything green."
"Sure, Rachel, follow me," he instructed. He led Rachel to a restroom that was a distance from the ER. "This bathroom isn't used often," he explained, "so you won't be interrupted, and you won't keep anybody else from going to the toilet. I'll let maintenance know that they'll have to clean up when you're done."
"Thanks, Artie," Rachel replied, entering the bathroom to begin the process of removing 'Elphaba' for the night.
When Rachel emerged, her face was scrubbed clean and sans makeup, and her hair had been fashioned into a simple braid hanging down her back. She texted Santana, confirming that she was going to spend the night at the hospital, and that she would provide a full report in the morning. Communication completed, she asked one of the hospital staff where the surgical waiting area was, and they were kind enough to escort her. She found Sam and Brittany sitting together, holding hands. Upon catching sight of her, Brittany stood up, walked quickly over, and embraced Rachel.
"He's gonna be fine, Rachel," Brittany told her.
"I know, Brittany. Thank you for being here," Rachel replied, grateful for the company.
Embarrassingly, shortly after Rachel sat down, her stomach rumbled. "Excuse me," she apologized, blushing.
"When's the last time you ate, Rachel?" Brittany asked concernedly.
"Around 4:00 this afternoon," Rachel admitted.
"You must be starving!" Brittany exclaimed. "Come on, let's get you something to eat; Sam will let us know if there's any news."
"I hate to leave," Rachel protested, but Brittany would have none of it.
"Nonsense; you have to eat." She turned to her husband and kissed him. "Sammy, we'll be back shortly; please text me with any news."
"I will, honey," he agreed, and the two women left to find Rachel some sustenance.
Although Rachel was hungry, she felt too distraught to eat much. She purchased a bagel and some natural peanut butter, and both she and Brittany got a cup of coffee. They found a table and sat down so Rachel could eat her snack away from the surgical waiting room.
"Brittany, how many children do you and Sam have?" Rachel asked as she sipped her coffee.
"Two little girls: Daisy's six and Violet's three…I love gardening," she explained with a smile and a teasing shrug. "Sammy wants to try for a little boy…maybe we can be pregnant together, Rachel," Brittany suggested.
Rachel was quite taken aback, avowing "Brittany, I'm not planning to have a baby any time soon; where did you ever get that idea?"
"You look at Puck like he hung the moon and stars, and, when he looks at you, there's not another woman in the room," Brittany observed, to which Rachel reacted by blushing deeply, and Brittany smiled in return. "I'm very intuitive about these things, Rachel," she stated matter-of-factly, nodding her head. The women sipped their coffee, momentarily lost in their own thoughts until Brittany spoke up again. "I've known Puck most of my life, and he's a great guy, but he's been hurt a lot," she explained. "He built a wall around himself and learned to use women for sex from the town cougars who exploited him when he was too young to know any better."
She looked at Rachel knowingly, continuing, "He was the 'dirty little secret' of the girls in school so they could brag they'd been 'fucked by Puck', but they would never have considered dating him. The women he hooked up with over the years were usually after the same thing he was: consensual, meaningless sex. You know, you look for what you think you deserve; that's all he believed he was good for, so he convinced himself that's all he wanted." Brittany paused to take a sip of coffee and Rachel continued eating her bagel, listening intently to a new perspective on her boyfriend.
"You genuinely care about him, and that allowed him to care about you, too. You appreciate him for the good person he is." Brittany smiled and reached over the table, covering Rachel's hand with her own. "Sammy said he's never seen Puck so happy. Thank you for making my friend happy, Rachel."
"I love him, Brittany," Rachel admitted simply, "with all my heart. I pray he makes a complete recovery."
"He will, Rachel, I promise," Brittany replied.
Conversation quickly shifted to more superficial topics as Rachel finished her bagel. They picked up fresh coffee for themselves and another for Sam before heading back to the waiting room. Drinking their coffee in tense silence, they awaited the surgeon's report.
An African-American woman in green hospital scrubs approached them; "Are you here for Lieutenant Puckerman?" she asked. All three nodded in unison. "I'm Dr. Jones," she introduced herself, "and I'm part of the surgical team that operated on the Lieutenant."
"How is he?" Rachel asked, her voice laden with concern.
"He's in recovery right now," she confirmed, "He's sleeping off the anesthesia, but we did talk to him after the procedure was completed." She looked pointedly at Rachel, who didn't understand the expression on the doctor's face. "The leg fracture was clean and only required a cast. The arm was more serious and the bones needed to be pinned back together in order to heal properly."
"And his ribs?" Sam inquired.
"The fractures will heal on their own with proper rest," she explained.
"How long will he need to stay in the hospital?" Rachel questioned the doctor.
"That depends on the Lieutenant," she explained. He'll be put in a room for observation now and we'll evaluate how he's doing in the morning. They'll get him up and moving around a bit and evaluate whether or not he can go home or will need to stay until tomorrow. By the way, are you Rachel?" the doctor inquired, smiling at Rachel, who nodded her head in answer. "He asked for you. He also wanted to know, and I'm paraphrasing, of course, how long it would be before he could resume having 'relations'."
"Doctor, I'm so sorry," Rachel apologized, embarrassed by the question.
"Don't worry, hon, we get that all the time," she reassured Rachel. She smiled impishly, continuing, "Just in case you're interested, he was told it varies from patient to patient; on average from six to eight weeks." As Sam and Brittany chuckled, Rachel's complexion flared crimson and she averted her eyes.
"If you'd like," the doctor offered, "you may go up to his room. I anticipate he'll be moved there shortly."
"Thanks, doctor, we'd appreciate that," Sam acknowledged.
"If you'll excuse me, I'll see that you have an escort," she offered, and left the waiting room. Rachel excused herself to go to the ladies room, and Brittany accompanied her. After "addressing nature", Rachel removed a toothbrush and toothpaste from her tote and began brushing her teeth in front of a bemused Brittany. "You'd be surprised what I carry in here," Rachel commented, nodding toward her tote. "I always brush my teeth between shows."
They reconnected with Sam, who by that time had secured an orderly to escort them to the room. Twisting and turning through a labyrinth of corridors, an elevator, and then more hallways, they found themselves in room 672 in the surgical recovery unit. Within five minutes, Noah was wheeled in on a gurney, groggy from a combination of the pain meds in his IV cocktail and the anesthesia that was slowly wearing off. As he was transferred to his bed, he was temporarily roused from his drug-induced slumber.
"Hey, Baby…Hi, Guys," he weekly called out, smiling as best he could.
Rachel approached and took his right hand, sliding hers gently underneath his so as not to disturb the IV needle. "Hello, yourself, Noah," she tenderly replied.
"Glad to see you're OK, Puck," Sam commented.
"Thanks for stayin', guys; I 'preciate it," Noah acknowledged groggily. "You should go; it must be late…what about the girls?"
Brittany smiled and replied, "In the first place, no thanks are necessary, we wouldn't be anywhere else. In the second place, the girls are with their Auntie Stacie, so you needn't worry."
"…And in the third place," Sam chimed in, "now that we can see you're goin' to be OK, we'll be heading out. Rachel, can we drop you at home?" he volunteered.
"You should go too, Rach," Noah suggested. "Get some sleep." Noah looked at Rachel, their eyes meeting momentarily, and she smiled softly.
"Thanks, Sam," she replied, "I appreciate it, but I'm going to stay with Noah tonight. Don't worry, I'll be fine…we both will," she avowed. Rachel hugged Sam and Brittany (in turn), and, as the couple returned home to their family and their own bed, Rachel tended to Noah's needs.
Rachel left the room and approached the nurses' station. She returned shortly with a Styrofoam cup full of ice chips. "The nurse suggested you start off with this," she said, presenting him some of the ice on a spoon as if she was feeding him ice cream. "If you feel ok, we can try a popsicle or something else next."
Noah took the spoonful of ice chips and let them melt in his mouth, after which he whispered, "Thank you, Baby." Rachel gently smiled and was prepared to repeat the process when Noah stopped her.
"Rach, would you do me a favor and send a nurse in here, please?" Noah quietly inquired.
"Sure, Noah, let me just press…"
"No," he insisted, "get yourself a coffee or a candy bar or something, and please send someone in. I'll be done by the time you're back."
Rachel was sleep-deprived and a little hungry, so it took her a minute to understand what Noah was requesting: he needed to go to the bathroom and didn't want her to witness his first attempt out of bed. Rachel smiled gently, leaned over, and kissed Noah on the cheek. "OK, I'll see you in about 15 minutes." She exited the room, returning to the desk to ask for assistance. She waited patiently until a nurse entered the room, and she temporarily left the area, giving Noah his requested privacy.
When Rachel returned, she found Noah sipping the ice water from a straw that the nurse had apparently provided. "Are you feeling better?" she inquired.
"Yeah, Baby. I'm so tired, though," he explained through a yawn.
Rachel took the cup from him and placed in on the tray. She fluffed up his pillows, encouraging him to "Rest, now."
He patted the bed next to him, suggesting, "Climb in here with me."
Rachel giggled, replying, "Noah, you just had surgery. I don't want to jostle the bed; besides, what would the nurses think?"
"They'd think you were lucky to be in bed with a stud like me, that's what," he teased back.
"No, Noah; thank you for the offer, but I'd better take a rain check," she declined. Noah considered the situation momentarily. "OK, then, pull your chair up closer, and lay your head down over here," he suggested, patting the mattress with his right hand. Rachel sighed; she knew he wouldn't be satisfied until she complied, and she figured he'd be asleep shortly, and she would move away. She moved her chair next to the bed, crossed her hands, and set her head down on top of them, her face turned toward Noah. "Sleep now, Noah," she whispered. He began stroking her hair, and in a matter of minutes, both of them were out like a light.
Noah began rousing a few hours later. The fog of anesthesia was leaving his brain, and the waning effects of the pain meds reminded him all too clearly of yesterday's ordeal. He smiled at the sound of Rachel's gentle breathing, and he picked up her braid, gently stroking it with his thumb so as not to waken her. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he became cognizant of another figure seated in the room…one with arms crossed and lips tightly pressed together. It took a moment for the recognition to sink in. "Ma, what are you doing here?"