“Eat that, and drink this,” Mikey says entering the room with a cup of water. “Barely nine hours back on base and you’re already causing problems.”
Riley says nothing, simply shrugs his shoulders and downs the cup of water, handing it back when he is done.
Mikey refills it in the sink and places it on the table next to him. Taking the chance to speak while Riley’s mouth is full, hestarts scolding. “I know you were gone and stuff, but you should be a little nicer to people.” The scoff Liz releases has both of the men turning their attention to her. “You better tell me what the fuck happened with you two tonight,” Mikey snaps at Liz before turning his attention back to Riley and scolding him once more.
“I can’t believe I have to be the mature one right now. They know your history, and I gently reminded Janine you will rip the tubes from your arms and get home before they even realize you are gone. She is getting me some supplies now. You can’t go off base and you’re on bed rest, you need to come back in the morning to get checked and another IV. Psyche will come to you in a couple of days, and you are under no circumstances to be left alone. Someone will need to be in the apartment with you at all times, so, hooray for babysitting duty, but you’re free to come home. And let me be clear, you should be staying, the one and only reason you’re not is because of what happened last time.”
CHAPTER 14
Stepping back into their apartment, Riley finally with them, should have been a special moment, instead, Liz dreads what is to come. He will need constant supervision and assistance: someone to change his bandages, cook his meals, administer his medications, make sure he is taken care of in every sense of the word, allowing his body and mind the time it needs to heal. All of which will be easier said than done.
Mikey, Alex and Tyler refuse to tell her what happened with Scott, but they won’t be able to help with Riley as much as any of them would like, leaving Liz to be his caretaker. For now, at least, she has Mikey. He was the one who pushed Riley across the base in a wheelchair, leading the small amount of conversation while she walked silently behind, carrying a large bag stuffed with medical supplies.
“Alright, I need to get out of this fucking thing,” Riley groans the moment the door to the apartment is closed behind them.
Liz watches him carefully, not wanting to intervene and upset him anymore than she already has.
On shaky arms, he pushes himself up out of the chair, Mikey sticking close just in case he goes down.
“I’m just going to get the supplies set up in his room,” Liz says before darting from the living room, happy to have an excuse to leave. Wasting no time, she pulls out rolls of gauze, tape, and various medicines, laying them out in order of when they need to be taken or changed. She takes her good, sweet time making sure everything is set up perfectly––expertly organized to limit the amount of time she will need to spend taking care of him, allowing him the space he seems to need.
A pair of sweatpants and one of his looser fitting t-shirts is placed on the end of the bed along with the mask she already pulled out. Liz double checks that the snacks are lined up within easy reach of the bed. Before going back out to face the men, she slides the table drawer open. Liz thinks better of it and slams it closed. Seeing them happy will only make his anger toward her that much harder to accept.
“All set,” she says, striding back into the living room. She walks right past where Riley is standing. Being out of the wheelchair forces her to look up at him as she does. He seemed so much smaller lying on that hospital bed that she almost forgot just how intimidating his size is. “It’s getting kind of late. I set some clothes out if you want to help him change, but I’ve done all I can do, so I guess I will see you in bed?” Liz asks, looking at Mikey.
His face flushes a deep shade of red, eyes full of fear looking at Riley.
The air in the room stills, like the universe is holding its breath, waiting to see what he will do. Even with her back to him, Liz feels his eyes linger on her body. Goosebumps pepper her skin when she hears the strained footsteps. Trying her best to calm her wild nerves, she turns to face him. Arms crossed and hip cocked to the side, she waits for him to find another reason tobe mad at her.
“You two share a bed now?” he asks. His deep, gravely tone threatens to make her knees buckle. Riley takes another shaky step in her direction, wobbling slightly, not used to using his legs.
“Is there somewhere else I should be sleeping?” she asks, feigning innocence. She forces herself to peel her eyes away, part of her wishing they could have left him in the hospital where he would be forced to lay down and focus on getting better. That part only grows when he takes another step, more sure and confident, like her little attitude is making him ignore the pain.
“Jesus Christ, Liz! Are you trying to get me killed?” Mikey shouts from the other side of the room, keeping his distance from the storm brewing in front of him. “We share a room with a bunk bed. She’s on top of me, completely separate.”
Riley cocks an eyebrow at her, challenging Liz to come up with another smart ass comment. He winks so fast she isn’t sure if that is what he actually did or not before he turns to face his friend. “You have her on top of you?” Riley asks, not a hint of amusement in his voice.
“She was right. You do need to get into your damn bed. I am too tired to deal with your bullshit tonight,” he whines, leading Riley to the doorway. “Liz moved out and got it all set up for you, snacks, clothes and enough pillows to prop yourself in any position you could want.”
“She moved out?” he asks, slowly following Mikey to the room.
“Yeah. I told her not to, but you know how stubborn she is. Said we don’t know what they did to you and you should have your own space.”
Riley’s chest tightens when he catches Liz sneaking off to her room out of the corner of his eye. When he steps into his own room, he has to restrain himself from going to her. It’s clear theonly thing on her mind when setting up the space was his comfort. Mikey wasn’t lying, there are too many pillows carefully placed onto the bed, and although he hates to admit it, those will come as a huge help at night.
His favorite snacks are laid out next to the bed, placed within an arm’s reach. Tears spring to his eyes when he sees the mask sitting on top of the neatly folded clothes. She had put so much care and effort into making sure all his needs were met while he was a cranky asshole.
“Alright, I’m helping you change, don’t be weird about it,” Mikey says playfully, picking up the pile from the bed.
“I don’t need to,” he says, wincing while he shrugs the hospital gown off of his shoulders. He’s left in just the teal pair of scrub pants he was allowed to wear in the infirmary and the hospital mask he wore to hide his face while being carted across the base. With one shaky step after another, Riley makes his way to the bed. Only when he reaches it does he let his friend help him in, groaning at the pain ripping through his shoulders when he lies back.
“It’s nice to have you back, man,” Mikey says, heading to his own room for the night. “I assume Liz will be by in the morning to check on things and fawn over you for the rest of the day,” he says, walking to the door. “Just do me a favor and actually rest. We all know you are a big tough guy and nothing can shake you, but that really fucking shook us. We need you back, man. Things have been happening and we need you in tip top shape to help handle it,” he adds. Mikey steps out the door, closing it tightly behind him without another word.
The days after Riley’s return are the hardest yet. Liz spends her mornings making him breakfast and getting his medicines organized before the doctor comes to check on him. After her short gym session with Mikey, she is forced to be alone with Riley for the remainder of the day.
She cooks his meals and checks on his pain periodically throughout the day, never talking to him more than she has to. Because he can’t be left alone, the rest of her time is spent dawdling around the apartment, trying to find anything she can to keep her mind busy. The only time Riley speaks to her is to ask questions: How long was he gone, how many days has it been since they found him, why won’t she let him out of bed if he feels fine? She goes to his room, ready to check his bandages and prepare his next round of meds, mentally prepared for their next awkward encounter. It feels different this time. She can feel his eyes on her, tracking her every move.
“Are you ever going to fucking talk to me, princess?”
