I cried in the bathroom for a long time, until my lungs burned and my head ached. When I had no more tears to cry, I washed my face with cold water and brushed my teeth to prepare for the day. I knew it was going to be a long day. It had been a restless night with little sleep. I took some ibuprofen to fight off my headache. It was almost 8:00 AM when I finally cracked open the door to peek out.
I shuffled out of the bathroom and found Ranger still asleep. Lester was still standing by the wall, dead on his feet.
"When are you getting relieved?" I asked him quietly.
He shrugged.
"Don't know," he said. He studied me for a long moment. "You alright?"
"Of course, why?" I responded, playing dumb.
"Beautiful, the walls are paper thin here. And even if I hadn't heard you, your face is splotchy," he explained.
I could feel the red flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck to my cheeks. I should have left the room. I was stupid to think the bathroom would offer any sort of privacy. My stomach turned as the question formed in my head.
"Did he hear?" I asked, glancing to Ranger.
Lester shrugged.
I felt my eyebrow hitch skyward. "What does that mean?"
"He might have been awake for part of it," he responded. "He fell asleep again eventually."
My shoulders slumped. I turned, snatched clean clothes out of the closet, and went back into the bathroom to change into a Rangeman uniform. I tried to do something with my hair, but it was fright night. I gave up and pulled it up into a ponytail.
I exited the bathroom, dumping my pajamas into the closet.
"I'm going to run down to the cafeteria and grab breakfast," I told him. "Can I get you anything?"
"Nope," he said, shaking his head. "I'm holding out hope to be relieved soon. Thanks anyway."
I gave Lester a finger wave and exited the room. I weaved my way through the mazes of hallways and elevators until I was in the cafeteria.
The cafeteria was painted light blue with a white tile floor. There were two hot food lines, one on each side of the area. One side was an omelet bar, with a man in a white chef's coat preparing custom omelets for several medical professionals in scrubs. On the other side was a serve yourself line with scrambled eggs, sausage links, pancakes, biscuits, bacon, grits, and waffles. In the center was an island with a refrigerated display containing fresh cut fruit, yogurt, half pints of milk, and other goodies. Beyond the island was a soda fountain and coffee carafes with cups.
I wasn't thrilled about the prospect of eating cafeteria food, but my stomach was rumbling. I grabbed a blue tray and headed for the hot food line. I loaded my plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, and sausage links. I crossed to the drink station and poured myself a cup of coffee, loading it up with cream and sugar. I poured a second coffee into a disposable Styrofoam cup for Lester, then headed for the cashier.
The cashier appeared to be in her fifties, and she was dressed in blue jeans, non-slip shoes, a white t-shirt, and a white apron. Her nametag read "Jean". Her hair was cut into a blonde mullet, and her face showed no trace of makeup, wax, or tweezers.
She rung up my breakfast on her cash register.
"Nine dollars and fifteen cents," she drawled, giving me a small, polite smile.
I shoved my hand into my pocket. No money.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I whined. "I don't have any cash on me."
The woman gave me an apologetic look. "Sorry honey," she said.
I turned to walk away and ran straight into Diesel.
"Oof!" I expelled air. Running into Diesel was like running into a brick wall.
"Morning, sunshine." His smile was huge and white under the incandescent lights. His blonde hair was even shaggier than yesterday. He was wearing ratty blue jeans and a green shirt with a clover that announced "I'm Lucky". He was still wearing his brown biker boots.
"Jeez, watch where you're standing," I said, noticing the laughter in his eyes. I might have been able to muster mad feelings if he hadn't been so damn attractive.
He pulled some cash out of his pocket and handed it to the woman. He picked up my tray and carried it into the dining area, plopping down in a booth.
"Gee, thanks for breakfast," I said. "How do you always know where I am?"
He gave me a wicked grin, and I rolled my eyes in response.
"You're a freak, you know that?" I asked, tearing into a slice of bacon.
"Yeah, I know," he said, sounding despondent. He ate a sausage link. "Normal people don't get hired to do my job."
"Any luck finding your man yet?" I asked, forking some eggs into my mouth.
He shook his head no, cutting into the pancakes.
"He's here somewhere. He's leaving cosmic dust. I seem to be two steps behind every time I think I've found him," Diesel admitted.
"Cosmic dust?" I asked skeptically.
Diesel nodded. "I can track unmentionables by following their trail, but this guy is a hard one to find."
I had a hundred other questions, but I was too tired to ask them. I put my head down and ate.
"How's your boyfriend?" Diesel asked, changing the subject.
I crooked one eye at him. "Boyfriend?" I asked.
"Ranger," he clarified.
"Improving," I said, eating more eggs. "No more seizures, thank god."
He nodded. "Glad to hear it. Since when are you two together? I thought you were dating the cop."
"I broke up with Joe," I said, "but I'm not dating Ranger."
Diesel looked amused. "Yeah, and I'm the pope."
I gave him my best Burg glare. "Suit yourself," I said.
He gave me a huge grin. "So if you're not dating Ranger, does that mean I get a shot at you?"
I choked on my eggs, and Diesel's smile widened.
"You've got it bad for the man in black," he announced.
"And?" I asked, annoyed.
"Does he know?" asked Diesel.
I considered the question, chewing thoughtfully. On one hand, Ranger definitely knew I loved him. I had told him as much. On the other hand, Ranger didn't do relationships. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. Bad men on the streets of Trenton may consider me to be Ranger's woman, but Ranger wasn't likely to be the Burg's most eligible bachelor this year. Or any year, for that matter.
Our eyes held, but I couldn't muster any sort of meaningful response. I gave a slight nod.
The corners of Diesel's mouth tipped up into a grin.
"Liar. If you change your mind and don't want Batman anymore, you know how to reach me," he said.
"That's a lie!" I scoffed. "You're around one minute, then you're gone the next. You're like smoke."
I sucked down my coffee, and Diesel drank the cup I got for Lester.
"So you're thinking about us?" he said, winking.
I exhaled a frustrated sigh. Diesel put up his hands in surrender.
"Sorry, I didn't realize you were so sensitive about your love life. It always seemed pretty causal with the cop," he said, actually managing to look sincere.
"Morelli and I had different goals," I said flatly. "It wasn't going to work out."
Diesel looked thoughtful for a moment.
"And Manoso?" he asked.
"Similar goals, different trajectory," I explained. "Ranger doesn't do relationships."
"Honey, you both may be too dumb to realize it, but you've been in a relationship for years. I've seen the way he looks at you. And I know what you two did in the Turbo."
Once we finished eating, we walked back up to Ranger's room. To my surprise, Lester was gone. He had been replaced by Cal, who was standing at parade rest by the door.
Cal was a big, bald, jug headed guy. He was a neckless mountain of a man with a flaming skull tattooed on his forehead. People didn't mess with Cal. They were afraid of Cal. Normal people didn't get flaming skull tattoos on their face. Therefore, Cal wasn't even close to normal. Cal looked like Steroidasarus.
"Hi," I said to him, giving him a finger wave.
Cal nodded acknowledgement, but he didn't say a word. Words weren't high on Cal's list of favorite things.
Ranger was mostly awake in the bed, tilted slightly upright. His body language made it clear he was fighting the effects of the pain medicine. A CNA was taking his blood pressure and temperature. His color was better than it had been the day previously, and he looked more alert. Evidently the drugs he'd received for surgery had worn off, his brain now only muddled with pain meds.
Ranger's and my eyes connected, and I gave him a giant, goofy grin with a finger wave. He returned an amused look.
Diesel snagged his leather jacket from the closet and shoved his arms into the sleeves.
"I'm out of here," he announced. He gave me a peck on the cheek, then left.
I crossed to stand by the head of Ranger's bed.
"Is he going to live, or will I have to put him down?" I asked the CAN. "I really hate putting Sparky down."
The CNA gave me a look that was a combination of annoyed and aggravated.
"Everything looks good," she responded in an aggravated tone. "A physical therapist will be in to get him up in about half an hour, and a nurse will be by to remove his catheter any time."
She scribbled something on her notepad and exited the room.
"How do you feel?" I asked Ranger, taking his hand in mine.
"Fine," he said, pain visible in his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and tired.
I gave him a knowing look, but he said nothing.
"When was the last time you hit your button for pain meds?" I asked.
"A while ago," he responded, noncommittal.
"Can you at least try to keep yourself comfortable? Toughing it out isn't helping anything," I admonished.
"Babe," he responded, his tone edging on annoyed.
A blonde nurse wearing pink scrubs and a ponytail came in with a syringe and sterile pad.
"My name is Molly," she said. "I'm here to remove your catheter."
Cal exited the room without a word, closing the door behind him. I stayed put.
"Babe?" Ranger asked.
"I won't look," I said, turning my back. "I don't want to leave you."
The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, so I interpreted that as approval to stay. I held his hand as the nurse gave him instructions to relax and breathe.
The whole process only took a few minutes, but Ranger seemed relieved to have it behind him. Not that I can say I blamed him. I don't think I'd want to have a tube shoved up my junk either.
"Anything else I can get for you?" nurse Molly asked him.
"No, thank you," Ranger responded, then she was gone.
The physical therapist arrived promptly at 9:15 AM. He was wearing a white lab jacket over black slacks, black pointy toe shoes, and a light blue button down shirt. Nurse Molly accompanied him. He had a belt slung over his shoulder, and he was pushing a walker.
"Hi, my name is David. I'm a physical therapist here at the hospital." He extended his hand to Ranger, and Ranger extended his hand back, wincing with unspoken pain. I could feel the tension building in my body. I hated to see him hurting.
"Today, I want to get you up to evaluate your therapy needs," David said. "Molly will help get you up and to the bathroom."
Ranger nodded acknowledgment.
Molly went to the closet and returned with two gowns. She pulled the covers down and helped Ranger into one gown. I fastened the ties in the back as she secured the snaps over the shoulders.
"You'll wear this gown over the back," Molly explained, showing him the second gown. "I'll help you get it on once we've got you up."
"Too bad," I said to Ranger, giving him an evil smile. "The view might be better without it."
Ranger gave me a full 200 watt smile, but Molly and David both looked embarrassed. I considered apologizing, but thought better of it. Cal, who was still at the door, was trying to hide the grin that was plastered on his face.
"Let's get you up," Molly said, changing the subject. David used the controls on the bed to lift Ranger to a seated position. Pain crossed his face several times as his body moved, but he said nothing. David wrapped the belt around Ranger's waist and tightened it.
"This is a safety belt," he explained. "It's a tool that helps us avoid falls."
David positioned the walker in front of Ranger and made some adjustments to the height. He gave Ranger instructions to hold the handles, then Molly & David lifted him to his feet from under the arms. Molly placed the second gown over his back side so his butt wasn't hanging out, much to my disappointment. I had a fleeting thought that told me, Jesus Steph, you're just like your grandmother, but I brushed it away.
The tension was visible in Ranger's face, and a few stray beads of sweat were gathering on his forehead. His teeth were clenched, and his breathing was heavy.
"Are you okay?" I asked him, the worry evident in my wavering voice.
"Fine," he spit out, leaning hard on the walker handles. His body wobbled.
David kept one hand on the belt and the other behind Ranger's back.
"Do you feel good enough to head the bathroom?" he asked Ranger.
Ranger nodded, a trickle of sweat running down the side of his face. He took several shuffling, limping steps with assistance before his face turned clammy and his eyes became unfocused.
I grabbed the trash can by the wall and lifted it to Ranger's mouth as he heaved, spilling the liquid contents of his stomach into the trash can. He heaved until his stomach was empty, and continued dry heaving. David held him upright using the belt and one hand around his waist. Molly grabbed a chair and slid it behind Ranger's knees.
"Do you need to sit?" she asked when the heaving had stopped.
"No. Just dizzy," Ranger explained, trying to catch his breath. He looked dead on his feet.
"You have a fairly severe concussion, Mr. Manoso," David said. "It may cause dizziness. You may be experiencing vertigo from your injuries. We can give you some anti-nausea medicine to help with the symptoms."
David helped Ranger into the bathroom, and they exited several minutes later.
"Do you feel strong enough to walk into the hall?" David asked.
I studied Ranger. Anguish seemed to be rolling off his body. His shoulders and back were tense, and his face was pinched.
"You don't have to do this," I said, standing before him. "Quit torturing yourself."
He gave me a look that said 'piss off' before responding to David. "Let's do it."
I felt my heart contract. If looks could kill, I'd be dead on the floor. I knew Ranger was capable of giving that look, but I'd never been on the receiving end.
I swallowed down the lump that had appeared in my throat and blinked back a tear as I watched Ranger limp out of his room followed by David, then Molly, then Cal.
I crammed myself into my windbreaker and pocketed my cell phone before fleeing Ranger's room, walking away from Ranger, Cal, and the entire physical therapy procession.