Raven's POV

It had gotten to the point that Wick was so infuriatingly considerate that Raven was about to resort to beating it out of him. Yes, he was a smart ass and gave her back just as much as she served, but she could identify the little things he did to ensure her comfort. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate it, but the notion of someone looking out for her was old and tired. She had been done with that concept for over a year now.

It would be worse if he was only like that with her. She'd noticed that it just kind of who he was in general though. He held the door for people and always asked what floor they were going to on the elevator. He'd probably be the type to burp orphaned babies in one hand and feed kittens in the other. It was disgusting.

But she put up with it, for the sake of their project. She let him walk half a step behind her and hold the elevator doors. She didn't even bite his head off the night she was practically doing the splits in the office as she tried to get the right view on something. He asked if she wanted help. The answer was no, of course, but she wasn't mean about it at least.

The morning he stops his truck and offers her a ride though is just about the last straw. Too far Johnny good-boy, she thinks as she keeps walking straight ahead, ignoring his questions. But then he's opening the passenger side door and he's got this look on his face where it's almost like he's the one asking for help instead of her receiving it. So she gets in the damn truck. It was cold outside anyway.

When she wakes up and he's just casually sketching on his steering wheel, god she can't wait to see that plan, she about kills him. But she looks at the clock and sees she is still almost a half hour early. For a second she considers just going back to sleep. But then she thinks of Wick sitting there, watching her, probably judging the fact that she was sleeping wide mouthed and snoring in his truck. So she gets out and decides to just clock in early. The extra four dollars must be worth it somehow.

Work is slow and she's tired. The pain starts in her knee and travels down from her shin to her ankle. It happens when she leaves her brace on too long, the relatively useless muscles still craved movement. They weren't meant to be all caged up like she kept them. Abby had insisted she perform range of motion exercises at least three times a day. Raven translated that to mean at least once every three days.

It's not long until her right leg hurts worse than her left. It was instinct for her to put the majority of her weight on her good leg. After four hours, anyone would grow tired of standing for so long. It just so happened that she grew twice as tired. As soon as break comes she disappears into the stock room, ducking behind shipments of pepperoni and paper towels and sinking to the floor.

She does her best not to cry out as she starts taking off her brace; the relief is so strong that it hurts. Stretching forward first she forces her toes to point and then pulls them back to flex. She can just barely feel the quivering of her muscles in her leg. It resists every stretch she forces it into, pain burning its way through every useless tendon and ligament. It worries her that all of her poor care will lead to the full loss of the use of her leg. Not acknowledging it at all made it easier for her to pretend it just wasn't happening.

Sometimes she was so used to the damn brace that she could forget for a minute that she was a cripple now. It didn't take more than a boy holding the door to the stairs for her to be reminded, though. Her resent and gratitude for the metal, velcro contraption was constantly warring. Today she hated it with the fury of a thousand suns.

Her whole break is spent like that. Smelling the slightly saturated box of cleaning products next to her as she remains seated on the ground with her good leg stretched out and her bad leg being forced into a bend it resisted with whatever strength it had left. If she wasn't in so much pain, Raven would bet she could fall asleep right there. But thirty minutes is gone before she's even relaxed all of her muscles and she's strapping the contraption back into place, ignoring the protest of her leg as she does so.

She forces herself back into a standing position. She let her right leg take the brunt of the weight before carefully stepping forward on her left, making sure it would hold. Everything burns and stings and stabs, but she keeps walking forward, back out to her post.

"That was over thirty minutes, Reyes," her ass of a manager says.

Raven salutes him mockingly as she walks forward. "My sincerest apologies, Wells." He doesn't reprimand her though he probably should. The next four hours she spends subtly leaning against the cash drawer, silently thanking the gods every time someone pays with their credit card and doesn't make her move.

The shift at the hospital moves slowly. At first Raven is relieved for the chance to sit, her legs protesting any other effort being put forth on their part. By the time three in the morning rolls around she's desperate for something that will require her movement. She could fall asleep so easily.

With no one walking in or out of the hospital doors Raven carefully begins to loosen the straps on her brace. It wasn't often that she did this, especially twice in one day, but as she was nearing forty eight hours of containment, it seemed reasonable to give in. As soon as she's released the last strap, she moves to bend her knee. Much like earlier in the stock room, her muscles are tight and resistant. She moved slowly, letting her leg adjust to the position before moving it further.

She rests her head on the back of the chair and stares up at the tiled ceiling. At first she pretends the tears aren't gathering in her eyes at all. Then she slips her eyes shut in order to ward them off.

The sound of the door opening causes her to jump up. "Hey." She knows who it is before looking.

When she glances out the window she sees the sun has started to rise already, who knows how much time has passed. "Shit," she mutters, glancing to the screen and the small list of patients that had compiled on there.

Wick walks around to her side of the desk of course and sees her brace, resting there against the drawers of the desk. She shoots him a look as she picks it up and throws it beneath her desk, out of view. "Can I help you with something?"

He doesn't respond to her biting tone. It's annoying how good he's gotten at ignoring her bad moods. "You ought to try coffee, Reyes. Makes a world of difference."

"I'm sure it does," she mumbles as she quickly enters through the patient's accounts, swivelling in her chair to grab papers off the printer. She hopes he doesn't notice the way she's forced to use her arms to get her back into place. "I just dozed off for a minute," she says in argument. She knows that he's hardly going to go tattle. But she also knows that the wrong person catching her could lead to immediate excusal of her position. Falling asleep at the front desk was hardly exhibiting professionalism.

"Been there done that," Wick says with a shrug. At least he wasn't going to bother reprimanding her. "So I've been thinking about this whole rocket building thing and I've reached a conclusion." The most response he gets out of her is a brief glance off of the screens to meet his eyes. "It's impossible. You've recruited me for an impossible task. Also, mildly illegal."

He's joking, she knows he is, but she's still irritated. "Well then quit if it's so impossible and illegal for you."

"Nah," he says instead with a wave of his hand. "I'm eager to prove you wrong. Already have my victory dance choreographed out." She hates him. She really does. "Tell me, do you prefer butt wiggles or the worm?"

She takes one of the papers on her desk and crumples it up, bouncing it off of his head as she throws it. "You're such a pain in the ass."

He smiles back in the most infuriating way possible. "And you're a little bit at my mercy."

"Damn engineers," she mumbles as he gets up from across the desk and makes his way back to the way he'd come.

"See you when you get off!" he calls as he disappears through the door, preventing her chance of arguing. Smug bastard.

As promised, Wick arrives just two minutes after seven, an empty coffee cup in one hand and his car keys in the other. "I haven't even clocked out yet," she grumbles as she takes in his eager self. He was practically radiating excitement. She didn't know if that was to be attributed to the end of a shift or the fact that he planned to torture her the whole way home.

"Hey, Jasper," Wick says instead, nodding his head towards him. "Monty said to tell you he'd be by later to drop off your game."

"Good man that Monty," Jasper says with a smile. Raven looks between them, unaware of the way her friends intertwined with her newfound…helper. That must be what happens when half the damn people you know work in the same place. "Go clock out, I'll take care of this."

She nods. He'd been here longer than her; surely he could handle something as simple as mismatched admission orders. "I'll be right back," she promises Wick as she swipes her badge and steps through the doors, making her way to the time clock.

Normally she'd be fighting him tooth and nail over this whole, driving her home nonsense, but her leg felt like a hot knife was stabbing it with every step. She didn't know if she'd be able to make it home without completely breaking down. So maybe she was slightly grateful for his obnoxious kindness today.

As she swipes her badge along the time clock, Abby walks in behind her with an armload of donut boxes. "Hey sweetie," she says with affection. "How you doing?"

"Peachy," Raven mumbles. Abby had Clarke for a daughter, no doubt she could handle some grumpiness.

She tsks at her as she sets down the boxes and quickly slides her own badge to clock in for the day. "Taking care of that leg?" she inquires.

"Of course," Raven lies, ignoring the consequences that flash through her mind of what happens if she doesn't take care of it: atrophy, disfigurement, amputation. What an ugly collection of words. "How's Clarke?" Dr. Griffin could talk about her daughter for days. She'd just entered her third semester of pre-reqs for med school and was the apple of both of her parent's eyes. It was annoying as hell, but also great for deflecting conversation.

Abby smiles just at the mention of her daughter and Raven really hates the way it makes tears sting the back of her eyes. She bites the inside of her cheek and blames the lack of sleep. "Tired, but she's adjusting to the course load well." Raven smiles politely in response. "She asks about you often. You should call her sometime."

That'd be easier with a cell phone, she thinks but doesn't say. The piece of junk had broken weeks ago. It was hardly on her list of priorities to replace. "I will," she promises simply instead. "It was good seeing you but my ride is waiting on me."

Abby opens the top donut box and holds it out. "Take one for each of you," she offers. Raven Reyes was never one to turn down free food.

"Thanks, Abby," she says, tempted to take a bite right then and there. Her pride keeps her in check a minute longer. "I'll see you around." She darts out the door as someone else walks in, avoiding any further delay in farewell.

She makes it back out front and holds one of the donuts out to Wick. "Courtesy of Dr. Griffin," she says by way of explanation.

"Wow," he murmurs as he takes it from her. "You're in with the big dogs."

"Yeah, yeah," she cuts him off before he gets on a kick. "See you, Jasper."

"You back in tonight?" he calls after her.

"Hell no!" she answers, almost joyous at the statement. It was rare she had both the day and the night off. It wasn't that she had anything better to fill her time with. Except sleep, sleep sounded like an excellent way to fill her time right about now.

As soon as they're out the door she takes the first bite of food that she's had since dinner the day before. It's sticky and sweet and a little bit sickening, but she loves every bite of it. When she turns to glance at Wick, to see if he's enjoying his donut as much as her or if she's making a proper fool of herself, she isn't terribly surprised to find him watching her. "That good, eh?"

"Did you just say, eh?" she asks, shaking her head as she swallows her mouthful of donut. "Are we in fucking Canada or something?"

He rolls his eyes as they reach his truck. "You're just jealous that you've never thought to say it before."

Raven holds her hands up in mock surrender. "You caught me." She licks the remaining glaze that coated her fingers and opens the door to his truck, sighing quietly as she once again determined the distance from the ground to the cabin. It was a bit of leap.

Not for the first time she's forced to swallow her pride as she stumbles her way in, pulling her useless lump of a leg behind her.

This time she doesn't stretch out and get too comfortable. It'd be way too easy to fall asleep again and dozing off in front of Wick once was more than enough for her. The last thing she needed was for him to catch wind of the fact that she was exhausted pretty much constantly.

"Here," he says, interrupting her concerns. "I appreciate the doc's offer, but I'm not a huge fan of donuts."

She eyes him suspiciously, unsure if he's doing that thing where he's being nice and also trying to help her save face, or if he's actually telling the truth. In the end she determines it would be just as embarrassing to accuse him of pitying her as it would be to just take the donut. Plus, she was hungry. So she snatches it from his hand without any further hesitation. "Your loss."

He starts his truck and begins driving, not asking her for directions but going in the right way regardless. "Where to?" he asks once they're on the main road and cruising at a decent pace.

"Just drop me off at the store again," she mumbles around her last bite of donut. There was something about a full belly that left her feeling like she had no choice at all but to fall asleep then and there. It was a battle between her exhaustion and her pride.

"Please tell me you aren't going to work again." He practically whines out the statement, like a begging dog or a desperate child.

How weak. "No," she grunts, her head falling back on the seat. Admittedly, she didn't resist it.

"Well do you need to pick something up? I'll wait for you so you don't have to walk home." His nice guy thing was pissing her off once again. Surely he had better things to do.

"Wick," she grumbles in an irritated tone. "Just drop me off where I said, alright?"

He nods and Raven pretends she doesn't see the way he looks over at her. She didn't like the idea of someone looking at her like that. His eyes belonged on the road ahead. Not on her.

Crossing her arms over her chest she stares out the window until they reach their destination. Raven keeps her eyes open throughout the ride using every ounce of stubbornness she has in her. It was rather a lot and yet she still almost found herself drifting to sleep. She turned her bad leg in a way that sent a shooting pain all up and down the limb and into her lower back. That would keep her awake.

Before he's even pulled into the parking lot she's unbuckling her seatbelt. Wick has just stopped the car when she throws the door open and moves to climb out. "It's freezing out there," he says, eyeing her once again. "You're not even wearing a coat for Christ's sake."

"Thanks for the ride, Wick," she answers, pretending to ignore the begging in his eyes. It was pathetic. He sighs as she shuts the door to the truck, giving him a small wave to encourage him to pull away.

As soon as he's gone she drops her head and hugs her arms tight across her chest. She starts her walk home doing her best to ignore the pain in her legs and the shivers travelling through her body.

Thanks to those of you that are reading! I know it's few and far between, the call for Raven/Wick fic isn't exactly high, but I hope those of you that are reading are at least enjoying! Happy New Year everyone!