by Elouise East
Alex didn’t believe a word of it, especially as the burn didn’t appear to have been tended to at all. Craig had fresh bruising around his throat, which could, in all honesty, be explained by the headlock, but time would tell if those bruises ended up as a solid pattern or finger marks. His money would be on fingers. Yet again, he didn’t have any proof of foul play. But he did his duty and wrote it all down, before excusing himself. It was a plausible story, and one Alex was hard-pressed to find fault with—which was how abusers worked.
He dropped the file off at the nurses’ station and headed to the bathroom. Once the door shut behind him, he swung around and slapped his hand hard against the wall—he knew better than to punch it. It stung, but it gave him something to focus on, instead of going back out there and wringing Darren’s neck.
Needing some time to calm himself before going back, he stood, back against the sinks, arms and ankles crossed, head dropped forward. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply as he tried to distance himself enough to think rationally.
The bathroom door opened, and Alex focused as Dr Acker entered.
“Sister Pendrake told me where you were.” He mimicked Alex’s position on the opposite side of the room against the cubicle partitions. “I saw your notes on the file. Do you honestly think Mr Talbot is being abused?”
Alex nodded. “Yeah. I have no proof. My instincts are all I have.”
Dr Acker smoothed his index finger along his bottom lip as he contemplated the floor. “Is the patient talking about it?”
Alex shook his head. “Nope. Denies everything.”
Clearing his throat, Dr Acker headed for the door. “We can’t catch them all, Dr Wick. Especially if the patient doesn’t want the help.” With those words, he exited the bathroom with a soft snick of the door.
“Asshole.” Alex shook his head to the empty room. “We bloody well can if we try.” It was doctors like him, which stopped things from getting done.
****
Alex was hovering at the hospital, getting in people’s way, while he waited for Craig to regain consciousness, which he did a few hours later. A nurse had caught him and said Craig had been showing signs of coming out of it, so Alex headed straight there. And there he was, to witness the tremulous smile Craig gave Darren when he first opened his eyes. Lowering his head to the file in his hand, Alex grimaced as he shook his head. Fuck it all.
“Hey, sweetheart. How’re you feeling?” Darren’s sickly-sweet voice was soft in the silent room as he leaned forward and took Craig’s uninjured hand.
Alex watched Craig’s expression as he slowly became more aware of his surroundings. He expressed genuine happiness to see Darren, which heated Alex’s blood. As Craig scanned the room, he saw Alex standing there, and his eyes widened before darting to Darren again.
“Why am I in the hospital?” He coughed.
“You—”
Alex spoke over Darren. “Let’s allow Mr Talbot to get his bearings and tell us what he remembers.” Darren’s expression grew dark, but he acquiesced with a small nod.
Hiding a smirk, Alex poured Craig a glass of water and placed the straw to his mouth as they waited for Craig to talk. “I remember Darren coming home from work, and we had…” He paused. “And dinner.” Craig frowned as he stared at the ceiling.
“What did you have for dinner?” Alex asked.
“Um, noodles. No, that’s not right. Um…chow mein.” Craig smiled, obviously pleased with the memory.
Alex cleared his throat. “Then what?” he probed, ignoring a glare sent his way from Darren’s direction.
Craig was silent, eyebrows low, eyes scrunched tight. He shook his head. “Nothing. I remember cooking dinner. That’s it.”
Inwardly cursing like a sailor, Alex smiled at Craig. “Well done. That’s fine. You’ve had a bump to the head, Mr Talbot. It’s possibly the reason for your memory loss, but everything should come back to you within a few hours or days. It’s completely normal and nothing to worry about.” Alex glanced at Darren. “Mr Corrigan, if I could ask you to refrain from mentioning what happened. I need to be able to see when Mr Talbot’s memories return without prompts from anyone.”
“Sure,” Darren ground out through obviously gritted teeth.
“Get some rest, Mr Talbot. Mr Corrigan, you can say your goodbyes now. Mr Talbot will be taken to a ward shortly and staying overnight, and there are no visiting hours until ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
Darren sighed. “Fine.” He redirected his gaze to Craig. “Okay, sweetheart, I’m heading home. I’ll be back first thing to see you, alright?” He brushed a hand against Craig’s cheek and kissed the bow of his lips. He glared at Alex and left the room, not waiting for a reply from Craig.
“Let’s have a real quick look at you before we get you settled.” Alex tried to offset the silence. “Where are you hurting right now?”
Craig frowned again. “My head, my hand and my back.”
“Alright. Your head is understandable as you have quite a gash on there; your hand has a burn on the back of it. Your back, however, I don’t know. If I help, can we roll you to one side so I can see?”
Craig nodded. Alex lifted the opposite side rail of the bed before helping Craig to roll over. Alex placed a pillow at his front to have something for him to rest against and walked around to the other side of the bed. The hospital gowns opened at the back; therefore, he already had access.
“Fuck me!” he mouthed silently. Craig had a red, no doubt soon to be black, vertical line down the length of his spine and into the waistband of his briefs. As far as Alex was concerned, there was no doubt he’d been pressed—or slammed—against something hard.
“I’m going to touch along your spine to check for any issues,” he warned Craig. Feeling along, it was a small comfort to discern there didn’t seem to be any damage other than the bruising, which Craig would be experiencing for several days to come. Again. “Alright, let’s get you laid down again.”
They reversed the process until Craig was lying flat once more, eyes closed.
“That’s all I need tonight. I’ll let you get some rest.” He headed to the door.
“Dr Wick?” Craig’s voice was soft.
Alex wheeled back, eyebrows raised. “Yes?”
“Thank you for taking care of me.”
The wealth of information behind the statement made words stick in Alex’s throat, and all he could do was nod. He confirmed with the nurse which ward Craig would be moved to.
As late as it was, Alex went home to sleep for a couple of hours before pouring himself back into his car by eight the next morning. He wanted to get in to see Craig before Darren arrived, although it wasn’t his best idea as he had a night shift that evening. Checking the computer for any changes overnight, he was happy to see Craig had woken not long before his own arrival.
He headed to Craig’s room and knocked quietly, waiting for the ‘come in’ before opening the door. Craig was positioned on his side, resting on a pillow as they had done last night for his back examination.
“Is your back hurting?” Alex asked as he glanced at the monitors around the room. Most had been switched off now; however, the blood pressure one was present.
“Yeah, it’s been twinging on and off all night. The nurse suggested this position might ease some of the pain.”
“And has it?” he prodded when Craig didn’t continue.
“Yeah, some.”
“If you’re in pain, Craig, ask for medicine. There’s no point suffering when there is no need.”
“I will.”
Alex knew Craig wouldn’t ask for anything. He studied the file and saw he’d had some pain relief early that morning, but he’d be able to have some more now. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He asked at the nurses’ station where to find the medication trolley and headed towards it. Gloria was manning it today, luckily for him.
“Good morning, Sister Pendrake.”
“Dr Wick, how lovely to see yo
u. What can I do for you this early in the morning, especially on your day off?” Gloria gazed at him, one eyebrow raised.
“I can’t stay away from you.”
“Try again.” Her voice stern, although her expression smiling.
“Could I have some more pain relief for Mr Talbot, please?” He could remember his manners with the best of them.
Gloria pressed a few buttons on the computer, then reached into the dispenser and gripped a bottle of pills. Decanting two into a small clear cup, she passed it to him. “Sign here for me, you know the rules.”
Alex smiled as he signed to say he was administering the medication to Craig. “Thank you, my sweet,” he crooned as he walked away.
“I’ll give you ‘my sweet,’ Dr Wick!” she called after him. “I’ll be catching you later.”
He had no doubt she would, too. Alex chuckled on his way back to Craig’s room, knocking briefly before entering again. “Here you go. Take these. It will make things a bit more bearable for you.” He handed Craig the pills and refilled a cup of water before giving that to him as well. “Bottoms up.”
Craig contemplated the pills, switched his gaze to Alex, paused then took the pills with a swallow of the water.
“Good. Give it a short time, and you’ll be feeling a bit more comfortable.”
“Thanks.”
“Have you remembered any more from yesterday?” Alex pottered around, pretending to check files and monitors while waiting impatiently for Craig’s answer.
“No. Everything’s blank after making dinner.” He frowned.
Alex couldn’t tell if Craig was lying or not from his tone of voice. “That’s okay. I’m going to have a quick check of you again. Starting with your back as you’re already on your side.” He stepped around the back of Craig and moved the gown to the side. The bruising was becoming a nasty shade of purple and began at the base of his neck and went into his briefs. Alex shook his head. There was no way he’d received that from training.
He shuffled around the front again. “Can I have a check of your neck, please?”
Craig moved his head back slightly, and Alex could see more purple bruising, somewhat lighter in colour there, appearing in a distinct pattern, which didn’t correlate to a headlock. Inwardly, Alex simultaneously cheered and swore because it was more proof something untoward was happening.
“That’s great, thank you. Rest easy now.” He glanced at Craig’s hand, seeing a fresh bandage on and knew a nurse or doctor would have taken care of it first thing in the morning. “It looks like everything is going well. Apart from the injuries, how are you feeling?”
Craig peered at him briefly before returning to face the side of the room. “I’m fine, tired, I guess. The nurses kept waking me up.”
“Yeah, they have to do that with head injuries. Concussion and all.”
“Right.”
“One question.” Alex was willing to become a nuisance.
Craig sighed. “My answer is no.”
“I’ve not asked yet.”
“You’re going to ask the same question you’ve asked every time you’ve seen me.”
Alex smirked. “Not quite.”
“Fine, ask.”
“As your memory is not one hundred percent, I won’t ask anything specific except to say, do you feel like you’re in danger?”
Chapter 7
Craig
As soon as the words left Dr Wick’s mouth, the door opened, and Darren entered. Craig sighed with relief at not having to answer the doctor’s question; he didn’t feel like he was in danger, but the doctor’s inflection made it appear like he should.
Darren crossed the room to his side, his smile wide and cheerful as he held up the punnet of grapes he’d brought with him. “I brought refreshments.” He placed them on the bedside unit. Craig wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to swallow them with his throat being sore, but he could try later. He didn’t want to hurt Darren’s feelings, after all.
Craig smiled back at him. “Thank you. I’m sure they’ll be nice later.”
Darren leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, prying his mouth open and deepening the kiss, moving and exploring for longer than was appropriate for having company in the room. “I missed you last night.” Darren pulled away.
“You, too.”
Dr Wick cleared his throat, and Darren whirled towards him. “Oh! Sorry, doctor, I didn’t see you there.”
Craig held back a smile, knowing Darren was lying and had been laying a claim to him in front of the doctor. He had no idea why, but it thrilled him all the same.
Dr Wick gave a tight-lipped smile and explained what was going to happen that day. “Mr Corrigan, to keep you up to date. Mr Talbot will be tired throughout the day and may fall asleep mid-conversation. It’s his body’s way of healing. Don’t take offence, you’re not boring him, it’s the way it works.” He chuckled.
Craig gave a small smile, while Darren harrumphed.
Opening a folder, Dr Wick continued, “We will also be undertaking a multitude of tests during the day, so expect doctors, nurses and orderlies to be in and out. We’ll be testing for your alertness, how your pupils react to light, any changes to movement in your limbs and the usual breathing, heart rate, blood pressure, and so on. This morning, you will be sent for a CT scan to double-check there is no damage below the surface of your head.” Dr Wick rushed on. “This is standard. I don’t believe there is anything there, but we need to make sure.”
Darren nodded. “Definitely. Is there anything I can do?”
Dr Wick closed the folder and crossed his arms over his chest, facing Darren. “Yes. Be patient with him. His memory has not recovered at present, but please try not to provide information about what happened since you had dinner last night. We want to see how long it takes for the memories to come back by themselves, instead of being prompted. It’s a sign of how serious the injury was.” There was an inflection to his voice, which Craig didn’t understand; Darren didn’t respond to it, so Craig ignored it.
“When will I be able to go home?” Craig asked, desperately wanting to be away from there.
Dr Wick’s voice lightened, and he smiled. “If all goes well, possibly tonight. But I think it’s better to assume it will be tomorrow at the earliest. The test results may not come back as quickly as we’d wish, especially with it being a Sunday and busy, but we will get it done as soon as possible.”
“Alright. Thank you, doctor.” Darren was dismissive in his tone.
Craig watched as the doctor’s jaw clenched, and Dr Wick shook his head gently. “I’ll leave you to it. I’ll see you later.” He left the room, softly closing the door behind him.
“I don’t like that doctor. What’ve you told him?” Darren’s voice was quiet but whip sharp.
“Nothing. You heard him say I couldn’t remember anything. I’ve not told him otherwise.” Craig rolled over onto his back, gritting his teeth but wanting to be able to see all around the room.
“I told them I was training you as we do every week. And we did a headlock manoeuvre, and we tripped on the rug.” Darren pulled out his phone as he said it.
“Okay. I’ll ‘remember’ that later today.”
Darren squinted at him, face softening. “I am sorry about what happened.”
“I know. It’s fine.” Craig smiled. He knew Darren never meant to hurt him; Darren hadn’t yet learned how to get rid of his anger properly. He would, eventually.
“Why did you have that missing hour?” Darren cocked his head, eyes narrowing.
Craig took a breath. “I was sick. I didn’t mention it at dinner because I didn’t want to worry you. And I was feeling better by then.”
“You need to tell me because I can help you. I hate that you were ill, and I didn’t know about it. I want to take care of you. It’s my job.” Darren’s mouth pouted slightly.
“Okay. I’ll let you know in the future.”
They were silent for a few moments, Darren tapping away on his
phone before he spoke again, “I have to go into work today.”
“Oh, no. Is everything okay?” Craig asked, worried one of the other staff was poorly.
“Yes, everything’s fine. But if I work today, I can take off whichever day you will be coming out of here. I’ll be there all day to help you.” Darren tilted his head. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Craig smiled. “Oh, thank you. It will be a long week for you. Are you sure?”
Darren returned the smile. “Yeah, it’s alright.”
He left twenty minutes later, saying he’d ring the hospital for updates and be there later tonight for visiting hours, or to pick him up if he ended up being discharged that night. Craig was under no illusion he was leaving that night. It would be tomorrow for definite.
Craig stared at the square tiles of the ceiling for a long time, not thinking about anything. It wasn’t often he had time to…be. Usually, his time was filled with tasks and routines, and what downtime he did have, was spent sleeping or with Darren. He could feel an itch beneath his skin to keep busy. But there was nothing he could do while relegated to the bed.
Interrupting his musings, Gloria, one of the nurses who’d been in to see him that morning, came in all smiles. “Good morning, Mr Talbot. How are you feeling today?” She stepped around the bed to the chart, which printed out continually, checked it and wrote something on it.
“I’m alright, thank you. And please, call me Craig.” He smiled.
“Craig, it is. Are you feeling any pain?” she asked, wrapping a cuff around his upper arm.
