“That’s no––” Riley begins, his eyes softening when he looks at her, only to be cut off by the door flying open.
“Honey, I’m home!” Mikey says, striding into the room, carrying two cardboard containers of food. “I brought your favor–– Are you crying?” His voice switches from playful to anger, laced with concern. He follows her eyes to where Riley is lying, awake and watching the two of them. When he looks back to her, she shakes her head just enough for him to understand not to push it.
“Happy tears, sweetie,” she says, smiling sweetly at him.
He looks down at her. He knows she is lying, she can see in his face that he doesn't believe her. The cough that comes out of Riley has Mikey whirling on his bed, turning into a child excited to see his best friend again.
“Hey buddy! Welcome back to the land of the living!” he barks, unable to stop the smile on his face. Mikey shoves Riley’s legs over, sitting on the bed next to him, not caring if he hurts him or not. He snatches the bed control from its pocket on the side, raising the bed so Riley can sit up.
“How ya feelin’?”
“Ohh, I know this one,” Liz shouts, raising her hand like she’s back in school, hurt getting the better of her. “Everything about this,” she spits, waving her hand in a circle around the room, “is painful.”
She glares at Riley. Cursing herself under her breath, Liz slumps back in her chair. So close. She was so damn close to keeping it together. Deep down she knows she has no reason to be angry with him. He has been through hell the last few weeks, of course he is going to be distant and angry.
“Okay, did I miss something? I thought the second you woke up you two would be ripping each other’s clothes off, not ripping each other’s throats out,” he asks, confused, looking back and forth between the two of them.
Her face grows hot. She drags her gaze over to Riley to catch him watching her with a heated stare that makes her toes curl, only adding to her confusion. The steady beeping in the room picks up, growing steadily faster as they lock eyes.
Hearing that makes Mikey start to worry, pressing the call button over and over again until the doctor comes rushing into the room, frantically looking over at Riley, propped up, doing just fine.
“Why did you call me?” she remarks, spotting the control in Mikey’s hand, thumb still on the button, ready to press it again if he needed to.
“He was beeping. Isn’t that bad?” he sheepishly asks.
“Not necessarily,” she says, checking each device he is hooked up to. “His O2 is good, you got him sitting up, alert, all good signs. His heart rate seems to be steady, all the excitement from waking up must have come as a shock, that’s all. I thought he was going to need at least two more treatments to get him to this point,” she says while disconnecting the now empty blood bag from his arm.
“Well, the field medics did a good job of taking care of him. They stitched him up and he got a couple bags of something from them in the air,” Mikey states.
“Oh, well, that explains the miraculous recovery. That would have been the type of thing to tell his doctor,” she sneers, turning to Liz. Her jaw falls open, watching the woman with sheer disgust.
“I did tell you. Maybe if you weren’t so busy treating me like shit, you would have remembered,” she grumbles.
Riley’s eyes snap to hers and she swears he is smiling under his makeshift mask. He needs to go home with them for no other reason than Liz wanting to confront him about the mixed signals.
“So, what does that mean? Does he need another round of the IVs?” Mikey interjects before the women come to blows.
Janine stops herself from saying what she was about to say and turns back to the men. “Not yet. If you are feeling up for it, you can start small with some crackers and water. We can see how you handle food and drink and go from there.” She steps closer to Riley.
“When can I leave?” he asks her, already trying to prop himself up further.
“Well, you will need a psych evaluation. You have been through so much, and I will need to continue monitoring you to make sure your body is recovering, but, as long as your vitals stay good and you can feed yourself, I would say you can leave in a few days.”
“Not good enough, doc. I’m alive. I’m awake. I’m going home,” His deep, raspy voice practically shouts.
Janine takes a step back, her hands tremble as she slings her stethoscope back around her neck. “I understand you don’t like hospitals, but––” she begins.
“But nothing. I’m leaving,” Riley argues, his voice getting deeper with each word. A loud, overly dramatic sigh fills the room,and Mikey hops down from the bed. His hand hovers next to the doctor’s shoulder as he guides her out the room, shutting the door behind them.
The moment they are gone, Riley reaches with his free arm and pulls the fabric covering his face away, then rips the oxygen mask off, tossing it behind him.
Liz peels her eyes away, unsure if she should see him like this or not.
Lips pursed, kicking her feet, Liz looks around the room, anywhere but at Riley. If she does, she may just confront him right then and there, and that is the last thing he needs to deal with. She has been working too hard to keep her anger in check to throw all her progress away now. Stupidly, she lets her eyes wander back to the bed, dragging them up his body, to find him watching her every move.
“What?” she exclaims. Anger courses through her the moment he lets a strained laugh escape, flashing her his soul-crushing smile. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he is toying with her on purpose.
That’s all it takes. She climbs from the chair, boots stomping across the polished floor until she is standing in front of him. “What the fuck––” A slow creak cuts her off, the door being pushed open again. Sick of the near constant coming and going, she groans and goes back to her seat, facing away from Riley. A soft crackling smack sounds from the other side of the room.
