June 27th, 1997
Ian sat on Storms' back, again, waiting for filming to begin. He and the horse had spent a lot of time together this week, and in the weeks of training leading up to the shoot, and he felt like they were really in sync now. Which was good, since they were asking quite a lot of the horse in some of the scenes.
Today's sequence involved catching a loose calf during one of the more tense and anxious scenes in the movie. With a storm rolling in on the horizon, one of the babies was supposed to have broken off from the herd. When Ian's character warned Teri's not to go after it, but to stay with the rest of them as they brought the calves in towards the ranch to protect them from the storm, she would take the risk and go after it. At which point, Ian would break away from the group and go after her. He would chase her and the calf down, to find that the calf had fallen into a gorge and was stuck, and Teri had gone in after it. Ian would then have to rescue them both before a flash flood could take them out. Fortunately, that was a different day's filming, and the gorge they were using wasn't actually known for flooding.
They had picked, by chance, the perfect day to film, as the predicted rain was rolling in as expected, though of course it was only supposed to be cloudy this morning, then steady rain in the afternoon. Which was perfect. The real storm effects would be added during close-ups in the sound studio later, and with rain machines and sound effects.
Ian would be shooting these himself, without the stunt double, because there was one particularly dramatic long-running shot that involved a clear view of Ian's face, as well as several moments where it would be clear that it was him. Not that he wasn't capable of doing it, since it was all riding and there wasn't anything inherently risky or tricks involved.
At least, that was the plan. Ian didn't like the look of the clouds coming in. The ones directly overhead were the usual thick gray, harmless type that heralded a chance of rain but could otherwise just be cloudy. What was coming in, however, was darker and more ominous than forecasts had suggested. There was also a little more wind, and Storm's ears kept flicking that direction. Under Ian's legs, the horse felt tense, as if he could smell the storm in the air.
Ian certainly could. Apparently, he wasn't the only one either.
Two minutes before scene, the director's hand went up. "We're calling it!" his voice came over the megaphone he was holding. "The storm coming in is worse than they thought. Pack it up!"
There was a sudden flurry of activity as plastic coverings were pulled out and started going over the equipment. Anything that needed to be packed down completely was attacked by multiple crew.
A moment later Ian's father-in-law appeared beside him on his own horse, a sorrel gelding named Ridge. "Let's get the cattle back inside the fence." He and the actual cattlemen on set—all hired locally—were ready to go. "Give us a hand?"
Ian nodded. "Sure, thing." Storm was a fully trained cattle horse, and Ian knew perfectly well what to do. Besides, with the others, all he really needed to do was ride where he was told and keep an eye on the herd to call out if anyone went astray.
The wind was picking up, and over the ridge to the West Ian heard a sharp rumbling. The clouds coming over were black, dark towers. Around them, everyone's anxiety peaked, and people worked faster.
Looking around, Ian saw that Teri was safely off her horse, and the horse was already being ridden back towards the farm at a trot by one of the set hands. It was half a mile back to the farm. Not a long distance, except if you were trying to outrun a storm.
Ian had Storm half-turned back towards the herd when a sudden gust of wind caught them, and he felt more than heard the crackling in the air as it ionized around him. There wasn't even time to react before he felt as if something had slammed into him. The horse screamed, heat surged, and he saw the ground rushing up against him—
The storm had come up so quickly, Bonnie barely had time to run for the house before lighting struck nearby, once, then again, and the thunder snarled overhead. Then the skies opened up, and rain chased her the last few yards into the farmhouse.
"Mommy, you're soaked!" Joanna exclaimed as she met her at the door.
"It's raining," Bonnie pointed out as she leaned back against the closed front door. Her heart was pounding. Since this morning's shoot had been out across the fields, most of the farm was quieter than usual. Any equipment not in use had been packed up or moved into the barns to protect it from the expected rain. Still, she had seen others running for their trailers as she had chosen to head for the house instead of the trailers housing wardrobe. The house was closer, and it was reassuring to see that all of her children were safely indoors.
Her mother was in the living room with the triplets, who were safely inside their portable play area to keep them out of trouble. They were playing with squishy foam blocks, and seemed to be ignoring the weather. Zachary was on the couch, staring out the window at the water sheeting down it. It had gone as dark as night outside.
Becca stood up and joined her. "Let me get you a towel. Goodness. Did you see your father or Ian?"
Bonnie shook her head. "No, no one's back from today's location yet. If it came up too fast on them too, they may have ducked into the trailers they took. Or they might still be making their way back." She hoped for the former, but with all the horses and cattle, her father might have decided to at least bring them back this way. For the scene they were still on the property, but out past the last fence. The sheds were all much closer to the main farm. Still, surely Tanner would have cancelled today rather than ignore the impending weather signs. Wouldn't he?
He wasn't from out here. It was possible he and the Central crew hadn't realized the weather was coming in more powerful than forecasted. But her father would have noticed, and the other locals working out there today.
She didn't like the feeling of dread creeping up inside her. Stop it. Everything's fine. You're worrying over nothing.
"Oh, look, headlights!" her mother exclaimed, sounding relieved.
Bonnie turned, looking back out the glass of the windows in the door itself. Several vehicles were pulling into the yard. The headlights accentuated how thick and fast the rain was coming down. Lightning flashed overhead, and everything was cast into stark relief. "I'll check on them." Without bothering to dry off, Bonnie reached into the closet and grabbed the first raincoat that came to hand—one of her father's—and hurried back out into the storm.
Truck after truck rolled in, and by the time Bonnie reached the first cars, more of the crew had reappeared out of the trailers to help rush plastic-lashed equipment indoors and out of the weather.
Bonnie should be helping with the costume racks, but she headed for the first person she recognized instead, the assistant director, Leon Marten. "Leon!" she pushed through the crowd, reaching him where he was standing under the edge of the covered walkway in front of the main barn they were using for storage and as an indoor temporary sound-stage. The first thing she had noticed was that she didn't see any of the cattle or horses.
He turned and looked her, and his expression went grim. He finished whatever he was saying into the hand-held radio, and then turned to her. "Bonnie, Ian's been hurt."
She stopped dead, her mouth frozen half-open to demand information on her father, on Ian… "What do you mean, hurt?"
"We called it, and started packing up to go before the storm hit, but lightning struck a tree about thirty yards out." Leon swallowed. "Ian and Storm were closest when it struck, though it spooked the whole herd, and the horses, and we had four riders thrown."
"Ian was struck by lightning?" He said hurt… not dead. But, oh hell…
"We sent one of the trucks straight to the local hospital," Leon continued, hands up in a defensive posture. "Ian and two others were injured. Your father's bringing in the rest of the herd with the others and they were right behind us. Your brother-in-law's in the truck with the injured."
Ian had been struck by lightning and bucked and was on his way to the hospital. Her father was somewhere out in that storm on horseback dealing with a spooked herd of cows and anxious horses.
Ian… at least Urey was with him. Urey was an alchemist. His specialty was pharmacology, but did he know any healing alchemy? Bonnie wasn't sure she'd ever actually asked. Anytime their family had an a major alkahestry need the questions always seemed to go to Ethan and Renxiang.
"How are the horses?"
The question seemed to surprise Leon. "Most are fine. None of them were incapacitated, though Storm was shaken. They're walking them back. They shouldn't be too far behind us. The vet's heading out to meet them now."
The horses were taken care of, and there was nothing they needed Bonnie for. Her father was out there somewhere, but the weather was too bad for her to ride out to help him. She could take one of the farm trucks. It probably wouldn't spook the cattle any more than the rain. They were used to the vehicles.
But driving in this would be foolish. If she drove anywhere, she should be on her way to the hospital.
Leon seemed to read her expression. "Don't try it. I promised your father you'd be here when he got back. He said he'll drive you to the hospital as soon as the rain lightens up enough."
Which was the smartest plan, and reminded Bonnie just how well her father knew her. Still, he drove these roads all the time, and in all sorts of conditions. He knew the way. While Bonnie did too, it had been much longer for her, and she could feel herself vibrating inside.
Now was not the time to panic. Giving in to the reality, she nodded. "Thanks, Leon. Where's Tanner?"
"In the truck that's going to the hospital. Though one of the locals is driving," he added quickly. "Bart's not dumb enough to try driving in this mess in an unfamiliar area."
Bonnie left Leon to handle getting everything else put away and under control. If she had no choice but to wait for her father to come in, she could at least make sure someone was waiting for them. She headed to the stable, and starting pulling out towels, water scrapers, light blankets, and made sure all the shutters on the stalls were solidly shut. Inside the barn, the thundering rain outside was slightly muffled.
She had just finished when she finally heard the sounds of hooves and men shouting above the storm. The doors at the end of the aisle opened, and her father came in, leading his horse, with a dozen, soaked men and horses coming in behind him. "Dad! Is everyone all right?"
Her father looked chilled and exhausted, but he nodded. "Cattle are back inside the fence, headed straight for the sheds. Horses are fine, just anxious and ready to be out of the rain." He hesitated.
"I know about Ian." She reached out and pulled him in for a hug. "I'm just glad you're okay, Dad. Let's get these horses taken care of and get out of here, okay?"
That got a small smile out of her father. Bill Walsh had raised his children to know what their priorities were.
By the time everything was under control and her father's horse was dried off and happily in his stall dozing, the crew wranglers with the cast horses, and the veterinarian, had also arrived in the barn. Storm was limping slightly and his ears sagged, but at least he was upright. The other horses were still eye-rolling and lathered from the strain.
It had taken half an hour. Bonnie looked out the windows and her heart sank. The storm was not going to pass quickly. This might last for hours yet.
Her father's hand on her shoulder drew her attention. "Let's go back to the house. Maybe there's news. The truck should have made it to the hospital by now."
"And if there's not news?"
"Then we'll get in the truck and I'll drive you over anyway."
Bonnie would not have accepted any other response. Nodding, she made the run back across the farmyard with her father, both of them sprinting through the now empty space and hurrying up the porch and inside.
Her mother was still waiting, looking tense. The children had been moved into the dining room and were seated around the table for lunch. As dark as it was outside it felt like it should be dinner.
Becca's face softened as she spotted her husband, and she fell into his arms, regardless of the fact that he was soaked through. "Oh, Bill. Thank goodness."
"I'm all right, love," her father grunted at the tightness of the embrace. "Cows are fine. Horses are fine. Neighbors are all right. Tree on the ridge is a write off from the lightning."
"Oh, who cares about that old tree. It was rotting anyway." Becca straightened up again, eyes misty. "Come have some lunch."
"Mom," Bonnie cut in, trying not to sound too frantic when her kids might hear. "Have there been any calls?" She dropped her voice. "From the hospital?"
Becca's eyes widened. "No, there haven't been. What happened?" She looked back at Bill with an almost accusing expression.
"The lightning strike spooked some of the horses," Bonnie gave the quick version. "There were injuries. A truck took them to the hospital. Ian's there."
"Well, no one's called here." Becca shook her head. "Is it serious?"
Bill just opened the closet and reached for his other dry coat. "Can we get lunch to go, Becca? It may be a long drive."
Urey didn't think he would ever forget the sight of his brother being launched through the air, his horse stumbling to the ground, as lightning split the tree behind them. He had been moving before he even realized he was on his feet, sprinting across the ground between the scattering horses toward Ian's sprawled form.
He'd had chalk out just as quickly, and had a circle sketched on a flat patch of rock on the ground beside him, sending transmutation energy into his brother's body even before his own knees had time to stop aching from hitting the ground. He might not have his uncle's skills, but he could assess Ian faster with alchemy than feeling for a pulse.
His brother was alive, but unconscious, his heart was hammering and his breathing shallow. His clothing was singed, and his head had slammed hard into the ground. Bones in his ribs were cracked where they'd hit the ground.
Urey hadn't paused to think, he'd just transmuted, pushing as much healing energy into Ian's body as he could, focusing its attentions on his lungs, his heart, on regulating his systems that had just been over-charged. That's it Ian… breathe easy… nice and normal… c'mon heart… there we go… regular… consistent…
He had slowly become aware of other people shouting around them, of a man and a woman bending down beside him. The film crew medics. Urey stopped transmuting and sat back so they could get to Ian. "He's breathing," Urey gasped as he realized that they were all soaked in icy rain. "But I had to stabilize his heart. There's…cracked ribs, and a concussion… I don't think there's any spinal damage. Hospital… he needs…a hospital."
The medics hadn't said if they agreed with his assessment, but they seemed to trust it as fact as they moved quickly through checking Ian's necessary vitals, yanking off the excess padding and clothes of his costume to get to his torso, and assessing him to be moved. Within a minute someone else had arrived with a stretcher.
Urey had stood up and moved back, pushing rain-soaked hair out of his eyes. Around him he saw teams helping other people to their feet.
He had demanded space on in the truck when it left for the hospital, with three injured men, himself, and the medics crammed in the back. Only Ian was unconscious. Urey hadn't known who was driving until they got to the regional rural hospital.
It reminded him a lot of the one in Resembool.
There had been a scramble of activity on their arrival. Someone had called ahead, and they had people waiting at the emergency entrance.
From there, time had slowed to a crawl as Urey waited for Ian in the waiting room. They had refused to let him back with his brother, and the next time Urey heard anything, he was being summoned by a physician. She stood, waiting for him by the nurse's station on the floor he'd been led to. She looked about his age, with her dark blond hair up in a bun.
"Are you Urey Elric?" the doctor asked, looking him over.
Urey nodded. "That's right. How's my brother?"
"Alive, and I'm told you're the one we have to thank for it." She nodded. "He's lucky the strike was as far away as it was. Any closer and he might have been dead before he hit the ground."
Which had been Urey's first fear. He nodded. "How's his heart? And the concussion?"
She blinked. "So, you're an alkahestrist?"
"Alchemical pharmacist, actually," Urey corrected. "But yes, I've had some basic training in diagnosis and emergency healing. What I did was crude by our uncle's standards."
"Crude or not, it was effective. His heartrate and breathing are both stable, though we have him on oxygen at the moment. The breaks in his ribs look almost a week into the healing process. If there was any spinal damage or other fractures there aren't now, and no signs of internal bleeding anywhere. No burns. Though yes, he does have a fairly severe concussion."
Urey nodded. There hadn't been much he could do for that, other than make sure the skull itself wasn't cracked. "Can I see him?"
"Of course. He woke up a few minutes ago while we were examining him." With that she led him down the hall. Urey noticed at least three of the younger nurses stop to look at him as he went by.
The doctor gave a knowing little smile as they stopped outside a door. "They've heard who our patient is."
Urey could only imagine how much of a stir having an internationally famous actor in their hospital was causing. Even if he was just the son-in-law of two of the local farmers. "Tell them he's not as fascinating as they think."
At that, the doctor chuckled. "Oh, I know. We've met before. Bonnie and I were in the same theatre club in school. I was at the wedding."
Urey blinked. He had presumed she meant she'd met Ian before, but he realized that she did look passingly familiar. "I'm sorry."
"No reason you should have recognized me," she shook it off as they stepped into the room. "There were a lot of guests, and I wasn't in the bridal party. I only made it in for the wedding and reception. But yes, I've seen Ian on a couple of their visits to the Walsh's."
"Which is why she's treating me with such…. Insolence…"
Urey felt relief at the sound of his brother's voice. Ian was lying in bed, tucked up as comfortably as it was possible to be, with an oxygen mask over his mouth. "It's better than you deserve," he retorted as he crossed the small room. "Two hours ago, I thought you were going to die on me." Only two hours, but it felt like an eternity.
The room lights were dim, but Ian blinked several times, and kept his eyes half closed. "So, I've been told. Thanks, 'Rey."
"As annoying as you are, I couldn't let you die," Urey quipped in return reaching out and grasping his brother's right hand. "Lucky for you, you've got a thick skull."
Ian smiled, then closed his eyes and swallowed visibly. "Not thick… enough. Worst head ever… and I didn't even earn it."
Urey gave his brother a moment as Ian went quiet. He didn't need anyone to tell him what his brother was feeling with a concussion of that severity, and his behavior. The headache was surely horrible, and he was probably nauseated, and dizzy given how he'd been reacting. He wished there was more he could do to help Ian feel better, but anything the physicians might give him would be more effective for his head. Not that there was much that could be done. His head would have to heal on its own.
Finally, Ian opened his eyes again. "How's… Storm?"
Urey presumed his brother meant the horse. "He was up and moving when we left," he answered. "That's all I know, but I think he'll be okay. It was chaos when the storm hit."
Ian grimaced. "This is going to put us so behind schedule."
"Is that all you care about at a time like this?" An indignantly angry voice demanded from the doorway.
Urey jumped slightly as he turned his head, and saw Bonnie—soaking wet—standing in the doorway. Her father was visible in the hall.
Ian blinked blearily. "Hi, honey."
Bonnie looked like she might explode. Urey stepped out of the way as she crossed the room, flinging her coat off so that when she hugged him, she didn't also soak the bed. For several long seconds there was nothing but silence in the room. Ian's arms came up and wrapped around her.
"I'm sorry," Ian said finally, breaking the silence.
Bonnie sat up, startled by the words, and stared at him. "What for? It's not your fault lightning tried to kill you."
"True," Ian nodded very slightly. "But I didn't…stay on."
"You were launched almost twenty feet," Urey spoke up behind her. "And Storm almost that far. You're lucky he went to his knees. He almost landed on top of you."
Bonnie didn't need that mental image. Ian looked surprisingly good though, for someone who had almost been fried. Urey's doing certainly. Still, the oxygen mask concerned her.
Bonnie looked up at Tara, who had apparently been assigned as his doctor. "How long will he be in the hospital?"
Tara's smile was mildly reassuring. "Presuming his readings stay consistent, we'll let him go tomorrow morning. Though he won't be doing anything strenuous for a couple of weeks, not until the concussion heals. I'll make sure to send you with a detailed list of all the things he should and should not be doing."
Bonnie nodded. She had a feeling the majority of Ian's job would be on that list. Not that he would be likely to argue about it for the first few days, but it was going to throw the entire shooting schedule into chaos. She had seen Tanner downstairs, but he hadn't been invited up, since he wasn't family. She could fill him in later. Right now, her own heart rate was still coming back down from the terror of driving over and just praying Ian hadn't died on the way to the hospital, or suffered permanent damage. "Thank you. That will be helpful."
Over the next few minutes, Tara and Urey brought her up to speed on exactly what had happened and the details of Ian's condition. Bonnie wanted to talk to Ian more, but it was clear he was having trouble remaining conscious, and that he was in a lot of pain. To let him sleep, she and Urey headed back out into the hallway.
Outside the door, Bonnie hugged Urey. "Thank you."
Urey hugged her back, smiling as they parted. "You're welcome, though you know I couldn't have done anything else. He's my brother."
"I'm still grateful." The possibility of losing Ian like this, so suddenly, or ever, had shaken her to the very core. For the entire drive over her brain had run worst case scenarios; what if Ian was dead? What if he was permanently disabled? What if there was brain damage? How would she take care of him? How would she take care of the children? If he died…how would she keep herself together? "I don't know what I'd do without him."
Urey nodded. "Fortunately, you don't have to learn what that feels like. Not today anyway."
It occurred to Bonnie, belatedly, that Urey knew precisely, first hand, what that pain felt like. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Me too." Urey looked from her to her father. "We should let Ian sleep a bit. I'd like to find Tanner and update him on Ian's condition. He was having a fit downstairs when I saw him last. That, and I'm starving."
Given how much energy he had probably used keeping Ian alive, Bonnie could understand that. She smiled. "I saw Tanner downstairs. You head for the cafeteria. I'll go find Tanner and we'll meet you there." Seeing as it was still dumping outside, she wasn't about to suggest they go back to the farm. Not that she would have left so soon. She wanted to talk to Ian again, after he had rested. They had a lot to discuss.
June 28th, 1997
Maybe it was because curiosity was getting the better of him, or maybe it was just because he wanted to know the worst, and didn't believe that it was over, because that would just be too good to be true. Whatever the case, Cal decided that, if he was going to test this newly reset brain of his, he wanted to do it in a controlled situation. So, he recruited only Ren and Alyse to be involved, and with their agreement that it was not a stupid plan to at least see how he reacted, he waited until early afternoon, on a day when the family that was still at the palace was distracted with other activities and nothing formal was planned, and waited in his and Alyse's room as Ren joined them, bringing with her a single small bottle of rice wine, and one of the tiny cups in which it was traditionally served.
Not that Cal had any intention of actually drinking it. That wasn't what this was about. He believed Xhisuan when the man had told him that what he had done would help with cravings, but it would not make him any less prone to addiction should he be foolish enough to start drinking again.
This was about a hunch, based on his week's observation.
Alyse was very curious as she sat there, watching him. She was nervous too, though he could tell she was trying to hide it. "So, you're just going to sit in the room with it." He hadn't told her everything about what he was considering, other than that part as a hard promise.
Cal, sitting on the floor beside the low table, straight-legged and using a custom cushion with a back to keep the position from being too awkward, watched as Ren knelt across from him. Cross-legged was something he could only get into and out of with some assistance. It was rarely worth the effort. Kneeling in the Xingese style was no longer possible.
"I'm going to sniff it," Cal clarified.
Ren nodded, as if she understood.
Alyse was still watching the bottle, a little like she might a snake. "Care to elaborate?"
Explaining was the hard part. "All week I've felt… like there wasn't anything there, if that makes any sense. Not an urge… not like something is missing. And while I appreciate it, seriously, the whole nature of the event being dry means there wasn't really anything to test it against. At least, nothing that was open or obvious." If anyone had been drinking, or cooking with alcohol, he hadn't recognized the scents anywhere.
"All right. Then let's see the results of Xhisuan's work." Ren opened the bottle, and poured out the tiniest measure—not even a half serving—of rice wine into the tiny cup. Then she capped the bottle, and held the cup up, so that the vapors wafted into the air.
Cal did not take the cup. He didn't even reach for it. He just waited, letting it waft toward him, and then he inhaled.
A slightly unpleasant sensation of burning hit his nostrils. Beneath it, he could smell the scent he would have equated with rice wine, but the fumes he could only assume were the actual alcohol itself in the liquid overpowered it, and they were surprisingly sharp and unpleasant.
Xhisuan did say it would impact my senses and reactions.
A reset. Had it been so overpowering before? Cal could hardly remember anymore what it had felt like at fifteen, the first times he'd had some of that home-brewed whiskey in the mountains. It might have been that overwhelmingly harsh. When had he started barely noticing it, except as a slow pleasant burn inside? How had he liked it?
The sensation was strong and strange and new… again, he supposed.
I don't like it. It was an odd realization, but enlightening. Also encouraging. He didn't like it! Well, that should make this easier. Part of him felt a pang of regret for what was lost, but he shoved that aside. If his body found it unappealing…that just meant that relapsing was far less likely. He still needed to work on better ways to deal with and work through challenges, but he'd been doing that too.
He opened his eyes, and realized that while Ren sat there calmly, Alyse was staring at him intently. "Well?" she finally asked when he made eye contact.
Cal smiled at her. "It stinks like paint thinner. I barely even recognize it."
Alyse's face lit up, and she grabbed him around the neck in a hug. "That's wonderful."
Ren was smiling, and nodded encouragingly as she opened the bottle and poured the tiny measure of alcohol back into it. As she closed the bottle, and the vapors dissipated, the smell went away. "Xhisuan's work is amazing. When I retire, maybe he'd take me as a student."
Cal snorted. "I'm not sure it counts as retirement if you simply change fields. What would Will say?"
Ren stood up, her expression turning coy. "Whatever I tell him to. Now, I'm going to return this to the kitchen. See you this afternoon?"
There were plans to go out again in a little while. This trip was to see the museum where Kamika worked—the portion in town that had its own building. They hadn't gone on the trips a couple of days ago to the archeological sites. After pushing hard for the festival, Cal had needed a couple of days to just take it easy.
He looked at Alyse, who finally sat back, looking pleased. Then nodded. "Yes, I think we'll see you then."
When Ren left, Alyse hugged him again, and Cal returned it, noticing that there were tears in his wife's eyes. "What's wrong, 'Lyse?" he asked quietly.
"I'm just relieved," she admitted, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes.
"I am too," he admitted. "As much as I could get used to the taste again… I don't want to. I didn't feel like I wanted it. Whatever he did, it must have been pretty major." Of course, given how long Cal's body had been using the stuff, he may have felt he needed to go hard to be effective. Maybe he could write the man and ask. It would also be a chance to thank him again. "I don't feel trapped anymore. Like, I can really do this."
Alyse was beaming, even if her eyes were still damp. "That's the most positive thing you've said in years."
Was it? Cal believed her, but that was sort of a depressing thought. "Well, maybe it's time I tried being an optimist."
More than twenty-four hours after being nearly crisped and slammed into the earth, Ian was not having a good time. Consciousness was elusive, and not at all enjoyable, mostly because despite his brother's excellent alchemical healing, he still hurt all over, though the head was by far and away the worst. The pain relievers they would give him were limited, to avoid concerns of bleeding in the brain, and he suspected that there wasn't really anything strong enough to dull the nauseating pounding that felt like someone was stabbing him repeatedly in the head, only it hurt all over and not just in a single spot.
He hadn't felt this bad after the car wreck in East City, and that had taken longer to heal up from than they were predicting for this. Of course, the concussion then had been milder than this one, even though his face had been a mess.
Urey and Bonnie had both already assured him that, this time, his face had not taken any major damage. Not that he would have minded as much at this point. A slightly more rugged appearance would have worked for several of the types of roles he was getting now. Still, he would have settled for not feeling like his head was going to split open, or that his stomach wanted to join it.
Sleep was light, and broken. His body was exhausted, and he was permitted to sleep since he was being monitored closely, but his head hurt so badly that it kept getting harder to pass out.
Seeing as they didn't have an alkahestry trained physician in this small country hospital, Ian was grateful that Urey was permitted to do what he could at all. He was grateful when, after another treatment, and careful examination by physicians, he was pronounced safe for more potent analgesics.
"If you could just knock me out for the next week, that'd be amazing," Ian not-quite-begged at that pronouncement. He knew they wouldn't, but it would have been nice to miss the rest of his concussion. "Tanner's going to kill me anyway. Our shooting schedule's shot."
"We're working on that," Bonnie promised. "Right now, he's planning to rearrange the shoot, and focus on several of Teri and Jessica's scenes that you aren't in first, as well as a bunch of the rodeo and ranch shots that don't require your character on set, or where they can use your double in the distance. That is not your concern," she added firmly, frowning. "You need to focus on resting and getting better."
"Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?" Ian grumbled, closing his eyes against even the dim light. This was the worst possible timing, or near to it.
"No more-so than you thinking you can solve this from a hospital bed. We've got it, Ian, and it will be fine. They'll just have to reschedule filming until you're well enough to at least shoot scenes from the ground. Just let Tanner work it out, okay?"
There was real worry in her voice, and Ian felt a moment of guilt on top of the rest of his pain. She had been terrified, for hours, that he might be dead. If anything had happened to him, she'd have been left alone to raise their five children. He was lucky he hadn't broken his neck, or been paralyzed.
"All right," he replied reluctantly. "You win. Just… how long are they keeping me here?"
"You can go back to the farm tonight if you promise to stay in bed," Tara replied. "I'll be sending medication back with you for the pain and swelling. Your brother can continue treating the rest of your aches alchemically without any concern for damage. I'm convinced he knows what he's doing. But avoid trying to watch the television for a few days, or anything that involves looking hard at anything for large periods of time. Lay still, rest, and get as much sleep as you can. Do not step one foot out the door of the house or attempt to do any work. No scripts. No notes. No running scenes. Your brain needs to rest if you want it to heal."
Worst way to get a break ever. Ian would much rather have been working, but there was nothing for it. "What can I do?"
"Sleep. Eat. You can have someone read to you if get bored. Just don't push it. If it gets worse, come back immediately. If not, I'll make a house call in a week."
"Appreciated." At least he wouldn't be stuck here for longer. The house was more comfortable, and at least he would be able to hear the filming going on outside. Maybe he'd have a few visitors to keep him entertained.
"Good. I'm going to give you the first dose of pain medication now. Once it kicks in, we'll see if you can walk well enough to get from the car into the farmhouse. If I think you can manage that, we'll let you go."
"By all means…" Ian was glad the bed had been cranked into a partial sitting position. It made taking the pill easier. He hoped it worked quickly. He had work to get back to.