Chapter 32: Day 14, Evening

"Bozhe moy! Wheeler! You are bleeding!" She reaches for the bottom of my shirt and tries to pull it up, but I grab her hands to stop her.

"It's nothing. No big deal," I say.

"You are bleeding through your shirt!"

"It's just a scratch."

"Scratches do not bleed that much. Just let me see it," she persists, trying to free her hands and lift my shirt again.

"I'm fine Babe, really."

"Jason Wheeler, I am not going to ask you again. Let me see it."

I hold my hands up in surrender as she lifts my shirt up.

"Chyort voz mi Wheeler! 'Scratches' do not require such large bandages! And yours are saturated with blood! I need to change them for you."

She's right. What was once a little bit of seeping is now soaking wet. I must've done something when I lifted her up just now.

"I can do it Linka, you don't need to…"

"What did I tell you before? If I am supposed to let you take care of me, why can you not trust me to take care of you?"

"I trust you. I just…I don't want to worry you."

"You are bleeding and obviously have been injured…if you do not want me to be worried, tell me what happened and let me take care of it for you," she says sincerely.

"Ok…the doctors gave me extra dressings for my wound. They're in my bag."

She goes to my bag and begins searching for the bandages. The first thing she pulls out is her "borrowed" sweatshirt, which she sets on my bed. She then pulls out the roll of tape and gauze.

"Sit," she instructs as she pats my bed. I do as I'm told. She stands in front of me and says,

"Arms up."

I lift my arms as best I can with my injury, wincing in pain.

"If you had told me you were injured, I would have been gentler when I hugged you."

"I didn't mind," I say with a wink.

"And you should not have lifted me! So what happened?" She asks as she sets out the materials to bandage my wounds.

I proceed to tell her about the shower and the girl, how she wouldn't leave me alone, and I made sure that I made it clear to Linka that I WAS NOT interested and was pushing the girl away. Then I told her about the guy and how I thought he was mad at the girl, and when I went to thank him, it turns out, he was mad at me. Thought I was the instigator in the whole incident, so he stabbed me.

"YOU WERE STABBED?"

"It wasn't serious."

"Wheeler! You were stabbed, of course it is serious!" She takes off the old dressings and gets a closer look. "You popped your stitches. I will clean this up as best I can, but we will need to get you to the doctor to stitch you up again."

"No, no doctors. I don't wanna leave Hope Island…I've already been away too long."

"But you need to get that closed up," she insists.

"You do it."

"I am not a doctor, Yankee! Besides, look at my hands. I cannot hold them steady; there is no way I could do it. And even if I did agree to do it, you need anesthetic to numb it before it is stitched…"

"Just use butterfly stitches."

She shakes her head and says,

"You are so stubborn!"

"I learned from the best!"

"Lay down!" She instructs.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you to say those words to me Babe?" I tease as I waggle my eyebrows at her.

"Too bad you are hurt!" She comes back with.

Should I tell her I'd suffer through it? That it would be worth it?

She gets a washcloth from the bathroom and cleans up my wound, pulling the broken stitches out and apologizing each time I flinch. Then she puts pressure on it until the bleeding slows and stops. Once it is cleaned up, she takes a closer look at it.

"This looks horrible!"

"It's not that bad. My rib stopped it from even going in that far…fortunately."

"Nyet, that is not what I mean…it is all red and puffy. It is infected. Did they not give you anything for it?"

"Yeah, I got some antibiotics."

"But how did they treat you? Did they flush and cleanse the wound properly?"

"I don't know Babe. I was unconscious. I remember fighting with the guy, we were struggling on the ground, some people pulled us apart, and the next thing I knew, I woke up in a cot in the clinic that the Red Cross had set up."

"So your treatment was subpar?"

"Well, compared to your standards…yeah, I guess."

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

"A little dizzy actually."

"You have already lost a lot of blood from the initial wound, I am sure…and now you have lost more, AND it is infected. I am going to go get you some orange juice. You need sugar and iron to make up for the blood you have lost. I will ask Ma-Ti if he can come up with something to help with the pain and speed up the healing. The bleeding has stopped for now. Do NOT move."

"Yes ma'am."

I lay on my bed waiting for her to return. I'm getting very tired and I don't know why. I slept most of the flight home. I guess the blood loss will do that. I must've dozed off because the next thing I know, Linka is sitting next to me, stroking my cheek and asking me to wake up. Once I finally become fully aware of my surroundings, I see her looking at me with concern in her eyes.

"You should be in a hospital," she says as she holds the glass of orange juice to my lips.

"You can take care of me just as good as any nurse…besides, I'd rather have you taking care of me."

"But this is my fault."

I must be losing it. Did she just blame herself?

"That's weird, I don't recall you being the one to stick a knife in my side," I say.

"When I hugged you…"

"You did not pop my stitches when you hugged me Babe!"

She is over estimating her own strength…especially in her weakened state.

"But you should not have lifted me!"

"Yeah, so it's my fault, not yours."

"If I had known you were injured…"

"I know Babe…but you didn't know. It's not your fault. I'm glad you didn't know…or else I would've never gotten that big of a hug. I'm fine…really," I say as I sit up. "But how are you?"

"Fine."

"Yeah, but how are you really?" I ask as I place my hands on her shoulders. I can feel the tension in her muscles.

I begin rubbing and she hums her pleasure.

"That bad huh?"

"I guess I did not realize how bad it really was."

I run my hands up and down her arms, her back, across her shoulders…I pull her hair away from her neck to continue my massage there. She leans her head forward, exposing more of her neck. I bring my lips down to her soft skin, testing the limits. When she turns to face me, I wonder if I've gone too far.

"I am supposed to be the one taking care of you now," she says as she gently touches the skin around my wound.

"We can take turns," I say.

She nods as she continues to smooth her hand around my injury, as if she's mesmerized by it.

I like what she's doing. I like how it feels…I'm starting to like it too much in fact. I need to concentrate on something else.

"Thank God for that rock hard body we've been talking about huh? Coulda been pretty bad if that knife had actually gone in."

She smiles weakly, acknowledging my joke, but at the same time letting me know that she doesn't find it very funny. She moves her hand a little higher up my torso.

"Two more inches," she whispers.

"Huh?"

"Two more inches higher and it would have been your heart," she says blankly as she lays her hand flatly over my heart.

Oh.

I shake my head and cover her hand with mine.

"Wouldn't have mattered," I say. "My heart wasn't with me. It was back on Hope Island."

She gives me the sweetest yet saddest smile I have ever seen.

"That is sweet of you to say, but unfortunately, still not possible. If that knife had been just a little higher…"

"Shush…no 'ifs'," I say as a press my fingers to her lips, and then brush my hand across her cheek to wipe away the tears. "All that matters is that it wasn't. I'm fine. I had to be. I had to come back to you…and I did."

We look into each other's eyes for what feels like forever, but in reality it is probably only a few seconds. I lick my lips, as does she and we both lean forward.

"Linka I have the medicine you asked for!" Ma-Ti says as he enters my room.

"Jesus, doesn't anyone around here knock?" I seethe quietly through clenched teeth.

Linka gets up to greet Ma-Ti.

"Thank you Ma-Ti," she says as she takes the bowl from him. "What should I do with it?"

"Apply it twice a day, rubbing it around the wound first, and then, over the wound as you press the skin together until the medicine dries. Once it does, it will hold the wound closed better than stitches. It also has natural antiseptic to help fight the infection and a natural anesthetic to help numb the pain. Just put it on and bandage the wound to keep it covered."

"Thanks Ma-Ti," I reply.

"You are welcome."

He just stands there awkwardly. I think he knows he interrupted something and doesn't know how to exit gracefully. Allow me to help…

"You can leave now," I say, dismissing him.

"Oh, right…sorry!" He says as he blushes and then leaves.

"Wheeler! That was rude!" Linka chastises.

"Sorry…must be the pain talking," I lie.

She knows it because all she skeptically says is "Mmm hmm."

I think I've made her angry because there is a tension between us now…or maybe it's from the near miss kiss. Either way, she's all business as she orders me to lie down and sits beside me on the bed. I watch her intently, trying to read her. Why couldn't Ma-Ti have waited three more seconds? If I could've kissed her again, it would've proved that what happened in the kitchen wasn't a fluke. If I could've gotten confirmation that she wanted this to happen as badly as I do…

"I will try to be gentle, he did say it should help numb it too," she says as she scoops a dollop of Ma-Ti's concoction into her finger.

"Whatever."

I sigh in frustration and stare up at that imaginary sky light in my ceiling. What a dumb idea. It would let in too much light, and right now, all I wanna do is curl up in my bed, pull the covers over my head, and never come out of my room.

She's either ignoring my foul mood, doesn't notice it, or doesn't care. She's massaging in the medicine around my wound. Having her hands on me…it feels so good. Having her fuss and take care of me…makes me wish I'd get hurt more often. She's got my skin pressed together as she wipes more of Ma-Ti's medicine over it and waits for it to dry. She leans down and blows on it to speed up the drying process. I close my eyes and take it all in…ok, so I'm pretending that I'm not hurt and she's touching me because she wants to, not because she has to. She's got her lips close to my skin because she's going to trail kisses all over my torso, or is trying to tease me with her breath, not because she's trying to expedite the drying process so that she doesn't have to touch me any longer than necessary.

She tests the balm to see if it's drying. It's still tacky. Blowing on it isn't helping so she gives up. I guess she's forced to hold it together a little longer.

It's been a while and maybe she thinks I've fallen asleep because she's set her free hand on my stomach. I wonder how her hand that's been holding my wound closed is feeling…I know that she's been suffering from muscle cramps because of the withdrawal. Then I remember something I've been wanting to ask her. I put my hand on top of hers and wait for her to meet my gaze. When she doesn't look at me, I quietly ask,

"What does Lyubov mean?"

That got her attention. She looks at me in surprise.

"Love, why? Where did you hear it?"

Huh? Love? She was calling me Love? When I call her 'Babe', it's not just a nickname for a friend. It's how I feel. She's a Babe…it's a term of endearment. She's my Babe. I always just thought that "Yankee" was her nickname for me…I took it as a term of endearment…even though I knew she didn't mean it that way…as a matter of fact, I think when she first said it, it was supposed to be an insult…kinda like when she called me an "imperialist dog"…only "Yankee" flows off the tongue easier. And if her initial use of it was supposed to be an insult, it's no longer meant to be that way. I know it's her nickname for me because she's the only one that calls me that. She's the only one allowed to call me that. But "Lyubov" means Love. She calls me "Love!" I can't contain the smile on my face as I squeeze her hand to let her know that I know…I know how she feels! FINALLY!

"You called me that…twice," I say, my heart pounding in my chest. I just want to pull her down to me and kiss her. To hell with the stab wound! I'm not feeling any pain right now.

She looks down at where her hand is holding my gash together. Her cheeks are turning red, which is understandable…it's a big admission, one that we've both been waiting a really long time for.

"It is a term of affection, where I come from it is something a friend or relative would say."

Oh. Shit…Shit SHIT SHIT! I'M SUCH A FREAKIN' IDIOT!

"Yeah," I pause to compose myself; to try and mask the disappointment, but more than anything, to hide the hurt. "That's what I thought."

She's finished pressing the wound together. The medicine has completely dried and she can't get away from me fast enough.

"You will have to be very careful, it seems to be working but it might be easier to pull apart."

She puts a clean pad over it.

"Sit up…carefully," she says as she reaches behind me and helps pull me up by supporting my shoulder. She wraps the bandages around me to hold the gauze into place. I'm still in a dazed disbelief. It's like having everything I ever wanted right there in front of me. I could almost touch it. I almost had it…but then just as quickly as I got it, it was ripped away. I had my fingertips on it…but once again, it's just out of reach. I wish that whatever this medicine is wouldn't work. I wish it didn't take away the pain. I want to feel the pain. I want it to hurt. I want to focus on something other than the biggest pain of all. I want Linka to go away so I can dig my fingers into my wound…to give myself a reason to have these tears prickling my eyes.

"How does that feel?" She asks once she finishes and looks into my eyes.

I close my eyes and turn my head away from her.

"It hurts like hell. Worse than any pain I've ever felt before."

Does she know that I'm not talking about my stab wound? And if she does, does she care?

"The medicine is not helping?"

I guess she doesn't get it.

"They don't make a medicine strong enough," I say.

"Perhaps you should see a doctor," she suggests.

"I'M NOT GOIN' TO A DOCTOR!" I snap. "Just…I just want to be alone."

"I do not think that is a good idea…if you start bleeding again…"

"Well, I'm going to sleep. So you can just go do…whatever…no need to babysit me."

"You do not want me to stay?"

"And do what? Watch me sleep?"

"What else am I going to do? No one will let me do anything around here. Maybe I will also take a nap," she says as she stands up and takes a step towards my bed.

"Alright. I'm pretty tired, so I'll probably sleep through the night. See you tomorrow."

She hesitates. Was she going to get in the bed with me? Of course she was. We're just friends. That's all we've been this whole time we've been sharing a bed. I don't know why I'm acting like such a baby. Sure, my heart is broken, but it's my own fault. I can't be mad at Linka for not having feelings for me. I can't force her to love me. I can only accept that all we'll ever be is friends, and be thankful for that. She turns to leave.

"Linka wait…"

She stops, her back still to me and I see her move her hand to her face. Was she wiping away tears? Did I make her cry?

"Da?" She asks, still not facing me.

"Will you stay with me? We don't want our nightmares coming back do we?"

She turns around and smiles weakly. I move over gingerly to make room for her in the bed and she walks towards it, climbing in next to me. I didn't offer to help her through her addiction and withdrawal because I was expecting anything to come of it. I'm helping her because she's my friend and I want her to get better, not make it harder on her. I need to stop being selfish and do what I promised…take care of her.

"Hey Linka?" I whisper as I stare straight ahead of me at the ceiling.

"Hmm?"

I can see out of the corner of my eye that she's turned to face me, and as much as I want to hold her in my arms like I had been doing before when we'd sleep, unfortunately my injury makes it impossible. Instead, I reach down and take her hand, lacing our fingers together.

"Thanks for taking care of me Babe."

"We take care of each other, that is how it should be," she replies as she squeezes my hand.

Yeah, that's how it should be…but it's not. It never will be…not how I want it to be anyway. Yeah, we're taking care of each other, but it's only temporary. I'll heal, and so will she…and we won't need each other. There will be no more massages, no more cuddling as we sleep, and no more time alone. I'll miss that, but I need to forget that time is running out, and just cherish the time that I have left.

As if she's reading my thoughts, she snuggles closer to me so that she can rest her head on my shoulder. Then she puts her other hand on my arm. I guess that's the best we can do with my injury. I just wish I didn't have to lie on my back. I wish I could wrap myself around her like I have been. I'm barely able to keep my eyes open any longer, but I still hear her say,

"Sweet dreams Yankee."

"You too Babe," I reply as I turn my head and kiss her forehead before drifting off to sleep.

To Be Continued…

Don't forget, in order to get the full affect of the story, you HAVE TO read Linka's side of the story in Chapter 32 of LouiseX's Codependence.