N2L: Regan's romance, ch.11

Chapter Eleven

Regan opened his eyes as an orderly set his breakfast tray in front of him. His back was aching and he could feel the pain beginning to creep in on top of the ache. He was determined to ignore it.

“Hey, fella, can you hand me that box back there?” Regan asked him. The young man walked to the table behind Regan and retrieved the requested box, then left.

Regan raised his bed up, smiling as he opened the box of cinnamon rolls. It would nicely fill in for the bland pancakes and thick, tasteless syrup. He knew Ayla would bring him some good coffee later, and no doubt Margery Trask would be by at some point with real food.

As he started in on his breakfast, the morning nurse came in. Regan glanced at her. She looked vaguely familiar but he had lost track of the nursing staff as they were in and out to check his vitals.

“How are you feeling Mr. Regan?”

“Fine. Just wish I could get a decent night of sleep.”

“Pain level?”

“Not bad,” he lied. He didn’t need the meds, he could mentally overcome it. But the thought of that floaty, divine rush the shots gave him was awfully tempting. The next words cheered him.

“Well, it’s time for your next dosage. Dr. Hollowell should be in today to discuss your MRI.”

Regan nodded as a shot delivered to his IV. Almost instantly he was floating, drifting pleasantly, as he slowly ate the cinnamon roll in his hand, never quite sure he was really chewing. The tech slipped the finger monitor over Regan’s forefinger for a pulse before his blood pressure was checked. Once Regan had polished off the cinnamon roll and the tech was gone, he pushed the tray back and reached for the remote control to the TV.

As he expected, there wasn’t much on, mostly talk shows with women squawking at each other and ridiculous cartoons. . He had just shut off the tv and settled himself down for a nap when the door opened. Regan started to open one eye to see who it was when he heard the now familiar soft voice.

“Sleeping like a baby.” It was the nurse, Lindsay. “Such a handsome, virile man.”

Regan’s brain tried to come alert through his drug induced haze. This woman was more than off base, he thought. She was almost scary. Maybe that’s why she stood out from the others.

“I’ll come back later,” she murmured. Regan heard the door shut and opened his eyes slowly. She was gone. Exhaling slowly, he tried to mentally relax and waited for Ayla.

It wasn’t long before she arrived, and he grinned when he saw the large cup of coffee she carried for him. His head was clearing some of the fog from the initial drug induced haziness.

“Hi baby.” She kissed him gently.

“Just who I wanted to see.” He caught her hand and kissed her again.

“Has the doctor been in?”

“No, just that freaky nurse.”

Ayla frowned. “You should mention it to the doctor. I’m sure he can have her moved to another patient.”

“I just might, she’s pretty strange.” Regan squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to spend the whole day here, Cupcake. I know they need you at the shelter.”

“Don’t be silly. I’d rather be here with you.”

“If I move over, there’s probably room for you up here.” He smiled suggestively.

Ayla laughed. “First off, you don’t have the mobility. Second, if I was the size of Stalker Nurse, that might work. But there’s no way on this earth the two of us are going to fit on that thing.”

Regan smiled. “Hey, I tried. You know, with the stuff they keep me shooting me up with, I bet we could have some fun.”

Ayla caressed his cheek gently and kissed him, not wanting to point out the medication was relaxing his body. “Believe me, I’d rather be curled up somewhere with you.”

Regan smiled up at when there was a gentle knock on the door. A pretty blonde peeked around the edge of the partially open door.

“Regan?”

“Hey Celia.” Regan smiled. The petite woman came in, followed by her husband Tom Delanoy.

“You look like hell old buddy,” Tom grinned, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

“I feel like it.” Regan smiled as he shook Tom’s hand. “Celia, I think you met Ayla the other day. Cupcake, this is Tom.”

There were quick hellos and Celia held up a basket, hoping Regan didn’t see her heel digging into Tom’s foot to head off his comment about the nickname “Cupcake”.

“Cook sent some goodies to tide you over.”

“Bless her.” Regan reached for the basket and immediately began rifling through it as his friends chatted.

“You missed a hell of a wrestling match last night,” Tom said enthusiastically. Celia rolled her eyes.

“Tom, dear, I’m sure we don’t want to bore Ayla talking about wrestling,” Celia said mildly.

“But he missed-”

“I don’t want to be bored while you two do your manly thing,” she smiled sweetly with a wink to Ayla. She could tell by the way the blonde was resting her hand on Regan’s head she wanted to be alone with him.

“But the Slayer-”

Celia just glared at him and flicked her eyes towards Ayla, who was looking at Regan. The lightbulb went on over her husband’s head.

“Right,” he said hastily. “We’ll, uh, we’re gonna head home, let you get some rest.”

The four said their goodbyes and it was just Ayla and Regan then.

“How are you feeling, really?” she asked.

“All right.” He shrugged. “The only place I hurt is my lower back. They keep testing for paralysis and whatnot, but really, I feel all right.” He smiled. The aching was creeping back in but he ignored it. Mind over matter. He tried not to think about the awesome floaty feeling that would come with a shot of the meds. He liked that floaty feeling. “Shh,” he admonished her. “It was my own fault. And I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Ayla pressed his rough hand against her lips. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

Regan saw the tears shimmering in her eyes and his heart sunk. He didn’t know how to handle a crying woman.

“Hey,” he said in alarm, “hey, it’s all right. No permanent damage, I’m not paralyzed.”

“I know,” she sighed. Regan noted the heavy circles under her eyes.

“Cupcake, why don’t you go home and get some sleep?” he asked gently. “You haven’t slept much since this happened, have you?”

Ayla shook her head.

“Don’t worry about me,” he smiled at her. “I’m fine. I just gotta keep that Stalker Nurse away from me. I want you to get some rest, okay?”

“I don’t want to leave you,” she murmured.

“I’m a big boy. I promise not to try rolling out of my bed.”

“Are you sure?” she asked uncertainly. “Yes, I’m sure. Besides, there’s not much you can do here. Get some sleep, and I want you to go back to work. I’ll be out of here in a day or two.”

Ayla felt her heart sink. He didn’t want her around.

“Are you sure?” she asked softly.

Regan smiled at her. “Yes I’m sure. The animals need your attention right now. I sleep half the day anyway.”

Ayla bit her lip, forcing a smile. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he insisted. “Besides, you can hover over me at home.”

“Okay,” she murmured. Leaning over him she kissed his forehead lightly. “Do you want me to come back this evening?”

“Yeah, that’d be good. I need someone sane.”

“Okay,” she nodded. Picking up her purse, she slipped out the door, almost bumping into Dr. Hollowell.

“You’re Mr. Regan’s girlfriend right?” he asked.

“Um, yeah,” she answered, wondering herself.

“I’ve got a physical therapist coming in today and tomorrow to work with him, and I think we can release him probably tomorrow afternoon.”

“Really?” she brightened.

“More than likely. I expect you’ll be looking after him, so there’s a few things you need to know. Most importantly, no sexual activity for at least six weeks.”

Ayla blanched at his frankness.

“Um, okay.”

“And I mean that. Nothing. That whole region of his body is compromised. Any undue stress will put him into severe pain. As it is, he’ll probably need to stay medicated for a good week until the inflammations go down. Depending on how his therapy goes, that will dictate what he can and can’t do. He’s going to need a brace, that he’s to wear at all times out of bed.” Ayla nodded. “No lifting, no bending, nothing. He’s going to need help bathing, dressing, just basic movements. Sitting up will be awkward, at least while he’s wearing the brace, and I expect for a few weeks. I realize his apartment is upstairs, but I don’t want him going up and down constantly. He really needs to take it slow. I understand he’s stubborn, but he has to listen to his body. He’s going to find the next week extremely difficult.”

“Gotcha,” Ayla murmured.

“I’d like you to be here tomorrow for his therapy appointment, so you can see how he’s to move properly, getting in and out of bed, walking up steps, etcetera.”

“No problem,” she agreed, wondering how Regan was going to take that.

“I was hoping he’d stay with me,” she said, surprisingly herself, “but we haven’t had a chance to talk about it.”

“Good luck with that. Like I said, he’s a stubborn man. Must be that red hair of his.”

Ayla smiled weakly as Dr. Hollowell walked into Regan’s room. With a heavy sigh, she headed for the entrance.

***

Ayla watched carefully as Regan went through his physical therapy. To get up, he had to roll himself onto his side, like a log, and push up with his arms. He would grimace slightly, then swing his legs over the edge of the bed. They had given him a pair of pants under his hospital gown.

Once he was sitting, he was fitted for a brace. The young man strapped it around him, showing him how to tighten and loosen the straps. A large metal bar rose up over the chest to keep him from leaning forward. Regan was silent through the fitting, nodding his answers. Ayla’s heart ached for him when she realized how unhappy he was. His handsome face was taught, his body tense, jaw set.

She watched him stand up from the bed. The physical therapist kept Regan’s hand on his arm as he and Regan walked out of the room, to practice walking the hallway. Regan wouldn’t be released until he could walk enough to the therapists satisfaction, keep his balance, and maneuver the stairs.

Ayla leaned against the wall, looking out the window at the cars passing by. She had wanted Regan to come to her apartment but he refused, wanting his own bed and apartment. She was welcome to stay with him he had said, but he wouldn’t be fussed and nursed over. Celia would be doing enough of that. She had wanted him to stay in the main house, Matthew even tried to insist but the stubborn redhead refused.

Ayla wondered how this would impact their relationship. Things had been so going well the last few days. So they wouldn’t be able to be intimate for a while. That was okay. She knew how life altering accidents could be. What if Regan decided he didn’t want her after all? Or that the accident really was her fault and he blamed her, and grew to resent her?

Stop it, she told herself, running her hands over her hair. Stop thinking that way. Bill isn’t like that. Don’t project your own feelings onto him.

Did he hear me say I loved him? she kept wondering. He didn’t mention it. Granted he’s usually been drugged. She twisted one of the rings on her hand. What if he did and it freaked him out? What if it scared him and he didn’t feel the same way? How could he, they hadn’t been together very long. Maybe he was waiting until he was out of the hospital to break up with her.

Stop, stop, stop! Hot tears pricked her eyes when she heard her name. Turning quickly, she blinked the tears back as she recognized Dan’s dark blue uniform. She blinked rapidly to clear her eyes.

“Ayla, where’s Uncle Bill? What’s wrong?” he crossed the room to her quickly, realizing she was in distress.

It was too much. When the young police officer touched her arm, the tears boiled over and ran down her face. Dan hugged her quickly, trying to soothe her.

“Hey, it’s ok, it’s ok. Where’s Uncle Bill?” he asked gently.

“Walking around with the therapist.” Ayla wiped her eyes. Dan reached over and handed her a tissue. He kept her nestled against him, knowing how emotional women could be.

“So what brought this on?” he asked, noting how the green of her blouse brought out her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes. “I was just…I just started thinking about the accident, and Bill-” “It’s not your fault,” Dan said sternly. “We’ve been over this.”

“What if he decides it was?” she whispered, looking up at him. “What if he decides it is and he starts to hate me?”

Dan shook his head. He’d never understand the female mind. “Ayla, that won’t happen. Uncle Bill is completely head over heels for you. This accident won’t change that, and it was not your fault.”

“You probably think I’m being a silly girl,” she said sadly.

“I think your emotions are running overtime in a big way and you’re just worried,” he corrected her. “It’s perfectly normal, but the accident wasn’t your fault, and Uncle Bill would tell you that.”

“Of course it wasn’t your fault,” Regan said from the doorway. They turned, both startled. Regan was frowning slightly at them as his therapist accompanied him back. “Cupcake, is that what’s bothering you?”

Dan realized he was inappropriately holding Ayla and let her go, stepping back. That could certainly be misconstrued, he thought. Maybe that’s why his uncle was frowning.

Ayla just nodded. Regan was interrupted by his therapist ordering him back into bed. The conversation was put on hold as the brace came off as Regan got back into the hospital bed, rolling himself in properly. The effort had clearly exhausted him.

“I’ll go get some coffee,” Dan said quickly, beating a hasty retreat. Regan held out his hand to Ayla, who walked to him and took it. He tried to shift himself in the bed to the side but he couldn’t, and grunted in frustration.

“Bill, don’t do that,” she said quickly. She sat on the edge of the bed, him holding her hand.

“Please don’t blame yourself,” he said, his green eyes beseeching to her. “I knew better than to take Pluto out without giving him a good run first. He was too frisky, but baby, please don’t beat yourself up over this.” He raised her hand to his lips to kiss it.

Regan was more concerned about the embrace he had walked in on. Dan was used to women, used to being their friend, confidant, lover, whatever they needed. He knew how to comfort them where Regan himself would have just scratched his head and wondered what to do. Ayla had looked quite comfortable with his nephew’s arms around her.

Dan wouldn’t do that, he thought, and neither would Ayla. She was just scared, and worried.

“I just want you to be okay,” she said quietly. He smiled.

“I will be. I’ll be even better when I’m out this damn hospital and home. And I have a prime excuse for you to snuggle with me on the bed,” he grinned. She smiled, leaned forward and kissed him gently. He kissed her back, then groaned and pulled away. She giggled when he realized why.

“That’s going to have to be on hold for a while,” she said gently. He nodded.

“I know. But damn it sucks, it took us long enough to get there.”

“Hey that wasn’t my fault, Mr. Old Fashioned.” Her eyes sparkled at him as he chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah.” He pressed her hands against his lips. “You feel better?”

She nodded.

Dan poked his in at that moment. “I have coffee if anyone wants it.”

Regan squeezed Ayla’s and smiled.

Author Notes
- A big thank you to my editors, Robin and Kate. Any mistakes are mine!
- Linds, I hope you don't kill me.
-Word Count – 2,797

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