Chapter Thirteen 

Ringing woke him.

Dick aimed a fist at the alarm clock, but it kept ringing at regular intervals. It finally occurred to him it was the phone and he struggled up, reaching over Rock to grab it. "Wha?"

"Rock?" It was a woman, a crying woman. "Rock? Are you there?"

Shit. "Jus' minute." He shook Rock. "Wake up."

Rock rolled and growled at him, even baring his teeth. "Some chick asking for you."

"Chick?"

"She's crying."

Rock was still half asleep, but Dick was getting more awake by the second, he could still hear the woman crying. He pushed the phone at Rock. Rock grunted into the phone.

He looked around for the clock. Where the fuck was Rigger?

Dick had never seen Rock turn grey before, but he'd seen him bark orders and he'd seen that blank faced focus in the field. "What happened? How bad? Where? Stop fucking crying, Julie and tell me where." Rock threw the phone on the bed and headed for the closet. "Put some fucking clothes on. We gotta go."

He was halfway dressed, obeying Rock implicitly, before he even thought to ask. "What's wrong?"

"Rig's been hurt. He's in the ER on his way to surgery." Rock threw on a t-shirt and grabbed his boots. "Move it, corporal! I'm not waiting for you."

"Shit!" He grabbed a t-shirt for himself and slid his feet into his tennies, grabbed his wallet and ran after Rock.

He must have opened his mouth a hundred times on the trip to the hospital, wanting to know what happened, wanting Rock to tell him everything was going to be okay, but then he'd get a look at Rock's tight, closed face and he'd look back at the road. The trip to the hospital took a half hour on a good day. They made it in just under fifteen minutes. He didn't even want to think about how fast Rock had been going.

Julie and Alison were pacing outside the emergency room door, smoking and crying. Dick stopped short as they walked up to the girls. Their jeans were covered in blood and both girls were wearing hospital scrubtops. The Julie looked up, blond hair flying everywhere. "Rock! Oh, fuck! I'm so sorry!"

"Where is he?" growled Rock, looking like he was going to pound someone into the cement.

Dick bit his lip, wishing to hell that he'd asked Rock what had happened.

Alison grabbed Rock's arm. "He went into surgery ten minutes ago. He... he lost consciousness in the ambulance and was still out when he went in. They said it'd be a couple hours."

"What the fuck happened?" Dick's voice wavered but he didn't care. He was scared now. All that blood and talk of surgery and unconsciousness and he was fucking scared.

"We were at the Tejano, having a couple, you know?" Alison shook her head. "Julie and I were giving Rig shit, playing around. He went off to the bathroom and didn't come back. The bartender went in and found him."

"You're nurses -- give us the straight shit." Rock was still growling, still looking like he wanted to hit someone and not looking too picky about who it was gonna be.

"So far? His left femur is broken in three places. His right wrist's cracked. His stomach and kidneys have been beaten and his testicles took a blow or two." Julie took a deep breath. "They're patching up his lung. He took two hits with a knife and lost a lot of blood."

Julie looked like she was about to start crying again. Dick thought he was going to be sick and Rock was looking grey again.

"Who?" Rock asked. He grabbed Julie by the front of her scrubs and picked her up, shaking her. "Who did this to him?"

"He said a bunch of jarheads jumped him. Overheard us teasing him about getting more cock than we did." Julie gasped and shrugged. "We didn't see them."

"Jarheads? Marines did this to him?" Dick didn't understand, didn't want to understand, but Rock seemed to know what was going on, putting two and two together fast as anything.

He still hadn't put Julie down and his voice was menacing. "Who?"

Alison grabbed Rock's arm. She was a fucking Amazon, almost as big as Rig. "Put her down, goddamnit, before the fucking cops come out here! He didn't say who it was and we didn't see them, okay? We don't know!"

Rock put Julie down slowly, glaring at the two girls. "When can I see him?"

"When he's out of surgery. He's got you listed as his next of kin in his wallet." Alison held out a plastic sack. "Here's his wallet, his phone, his ring and watch."

Rock just stared at the bag like he didn't know what it was, so Dick took it from her. "Thanks."

"He's going to be fine, Rock. The doctors said he was strong." Tears started flowing down Julie's cheek. "I'm sorry, Rock, Dick. I am."

Rock was still just standing there, pale and not entirely steady, not saying a word.

"Thanks," Dick said again. He grabbed Rock's arm and led the big guy through the doors and into the waiting room. The smell of the place hit him and he felt his stomach roll. Suddenly it seemed more real. He pushed the bag into Rock's hands. "I'm gonna go find some coffee. You want one?"

"Yeah. Better call Rig's momma." Rock sighed. "Need to find a fucking doctor and find out where the fuck our Rig is."

"Rig's cell phone's in the bag." He knew he was chickening out, making Rock make the call, but he didn't think he could tell her what Alison had told them. "You want me to stay while you talk to her?"

"No. Find coffee and somebody who knows something. I'll call her." Rock's voice was flat, hard, cold.

He nodded, backing away, telling himself he wasn't abandoning Rock. He just... he couldn't tell Rig's Momma, he couldn't. Shit, he could hardly believe it himself. He wandered through the halls, finally coming across the little alley with gift shops and coffee shops. Most of them were closed this time of night, but the Starbucks was open, hawking their coffee 24/7.

He picked up two larges and headed back for emergency. He'd get rid of the coffees and then find someone to tell them what the fuck was going on. That's what he wanted to know. What the fuck kind of world was it where a man like Rigger...

He turned into the emergency waiting room, searching for Rock.

Rock was pacing the waiting room, still on the phone. "Yeah, Momma. Yeah, you know I'll take care of him. Either me or Dick will pick you up at the airport. Bye." Rock turned off the phone and sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fuck."

Fuck, he wanted to wrap himself around Rock so fucking badly.

"How'd she take it?" he asked, handing over the coffee instead.

"She's flying in tomorrow. She's pissed as hell and these fucking doctors better have him stable before she gets here." Rock reached for the coffee, gulping half of it down without a thought. "We need to find out what's-"

"Is there a James South here?" A fat older man in scrubs looked in, clipboard in his hand. "Mr. South?"

"Shit, Rock, that's you."

Rock gave him a look and stepped up to the man. Dick hovered. "I'm James South. You gonna tell me about Alex Roberts?"

"Yes. I'm Dr. O'Brien. Mr. Roberts is out of surgery and in recovery. I'm sure you've got some questions. Shall we sit?" The man's attitude, professional and quick, made Dick feel better, feel like someone was in charge.

Rock was back to looking intimidating, but he let the doctor lead them back to the chairs.

"When can I see him?" Were the first words out of Rock's mouth once they were all settled.

"You can see him now, but only for a minute and he's still really groggy." The doctor held his hand out. "Hold on. Let's talk. He's pretty banged up and he'll go into surgery tomorrow or the next day to fix his leg. We're hoping the internal swelling -- kidneys, testicles -- will ease up on its own."

"Shit." Dick didn't realize he'd said the word out loud until two sets of eyes turned to him. He felt his face color and ducked his head. "Sounds pretty bad."

"Yeah, Doc -- kid's right it does. Just how bad is it?"

The doctor sighed. "He's going to be in a lot pain. He’ll have some fairly extensive recovery time and has some serious contusions, but, if the swelling goes down and infection doesn't settle in? He'll be fine. It will just take time."

"So his chances of that happening are what? Fifty/fifty? Better, worse?"

"Better. He's young, healthy. No reason to expect the worst."

"When can he come home?" Rock was firing questions as quickly as the doctor could answer them.

"Could be a week, could be longer."

"You got anything else you need to tell me before I go see him?"

The doctor stood. "He's been badly beaten. His nose is broken. One ear was badly cut. His face and eyes are swollen. His lung collapsed and has been reinflated. He's not fully conscious and he's hurting badly. One arm is casted and so is one leg. He looks like hell, frankly."

"The cops been in to see him yet?"

"He's not been conscious. They're waiting for him to come out of recovery."

Rock nodded and stood. "I want to see him now."

Dick stood, too. "Can I come? Please."

The doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry. Mr. South is the next of kin. Mr. Roberts will be in a room within the next few hours and you can see him then."

Dick bit his lip and nodded sitting back down carefully. "Tell him I asked after him, Rock."

Rock nodded. "I want to see him now."

The doctor led Rock out of the waiting room and down the hall. Dick watched them go. Fuck, it was real now. Too fucking real. He was supposed to be at home. Curled up in bed with two of the best men he'd ever known. Instead he was in the fucking hospital, waiting to see if Rigger would live.

It sucked and it wasn't fair.

***

Rock stood in front of the door to the recovery room and took a deep breath. It wasn't that he'd never seen friends hurt before. Being a marine was a dangerous business. He'd seen friends dead and friends dying and blood and guts and...

This was different.

This was Rigger.

He pushed the door open. There was a soft light on in the corner, shining on a lone figure in a bed. Before he could head toward it, a nurse stopped him. "You're-"

"I'm James South, Mr. Roberts has me listed as his next of kin." He needed to see Rig now, he wasn't going to let anyone stop him from crossing to that bed.

"Five minutes, Mr. South. And then you'll have to wait until they move him to his own room."

He nodded and pushed past her. His steps didn't slow at all and in no time he was right beside Rigger's bed. Rig looked... fuck, he didn't even look like Rigger with his eyes swollen shut and bandages and tubes. Even the long fingers poking from inside the cast were bruised.

"Rig. Rigger." He repeated it a couple of times, but Rig was out. Jaw clenched, he looked at the wall on the other side of the bed. The light threw strange shaped shadows on it, his own like a hulking monster, ready to pounce.

Reaching out, he let is little finger touch Rigger's. Rig's finger was cool to the touch, but slowly warmed beneath his. He would have stood there all night if they'd have let him. Just stood there and listened to the soft sounds of Rigger breathing, watching the monster that was his shadow lurking at Rigger's bedside.

Rig's finger moved, squeezing his just slightly. "Blue? Hurts."

"Rig? Yeah, I'll bet it does -- you got beat up real bad." He turned his hand, curling his fingers around the tips of Rigger's, looking down at the swollen face.

"Yeah. Wanna g'home, now." One eye was open just enough that Rock could see a flash of grey.

"Yeah, Rig. We want you home." He tried for a smile, but couldn't quite bring himself to lie to Rig. 'Cause that's what he'd be doing. "Doc says it'll be a week if you heal up right."

"Work Monday. Can't stay." Rig shifted and moaned, the sound no more than a whisper. The swollen eye closed, but Rig's finger still held his.

"When you can sign the fucking AMA forms, you can go home, Rig." Fuck, but he wanted to grab Rigger up in his arms and just bring him home. Where he and Dick could hold him and protect him and touch him as much as they needed to.

"Girls okay?"

Fucking shit. "The girls are fucking fine, Rig. You're the one that got bashed."

"'kay." Rig squeezed his fingers. "Good."

Fuck. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He squeezed Rig's fingers back, wanting to say something, anything, but everything was caught at the back of his throat.

The nurse held up one finger and he nodded, starting to pull his fingers out of Rig's grip. When he moved, that one grey eye cracked open again and Rig shook his head. "Stay, Blue. Please."

"Sh..." He looked back at the nurse and then leaned down to whisper in Rigger's ear. "If it was you on duty, what would I need to do to get around the five minute rule?"

"You? Be good 'n quiet 'n take me t' dinner." Rig's voice was fading, breaths coming slower as he drifted in and out. "Need t' call Momma 'n Daddy to feed Grimmy and the fish."

It fucking broke his heart. "I took care of it, Roberts. You just get well, okay?"

"'kay, Blue." The fucking beeping and whooshing and dripping was driving him out of his fucking mind. He didn't know how Rig listened to it every fucking day.

The nurse gave him a look and he squeezed Rigger's fingers and put on his best smile as he went over to her.

"Look, there's no one else here. What would you say if I asked to stay awhile longer? I'll just pull up a chair and sit quietly with my friend -- he's awake and a little freaked out to be here all by himself, you know?" He gave her a subtle up and down, like he was thinking of picking her up and let his smile grow. "I'd owe you one."

She looked at him suspiciously for a second and then sighed. "Look, I'm going to give him some more morphine in five so we can move him. It'll knock him out. You can stay until he's asleep -- if no one else shows, okay?"

"Thank you. Thanks a lot." He gave her a nod and hightailed it back to Rigger's bed, hoping he hadn't insulted her with his quick getaway, but he thought he'd heard Rig moaning. He snagged a chair and sat on it, leaning his chin against the rail as his fingers slid over Rig's again. "'S just me."

Rig squeezed his hand, soft pained sounds coming every few breaths. "'s it bad?"

"Yeah. It's bad." He squeezed Rig's hand back. "You could have been killed."

"Too mean t'die." Rig held on tight, slow tears leaking from his closed eye. "Shoulda stayed home."

He reached up and stroked Rigger's head, careful not to jar him. "Come on, Rigger, you know it wasn't your fault."

"Blue..." The sound was broken, lost. He'd heard Rig call him like that once before, when Rig's dad had died and Rig had just paced and smoked for days until one night he finally came to bed and let Rock touch him. That had been easier than this.

"I'm here, Rabbit. I've got you now."

"'kay." Rig seemed to relax, the tears drying as those bruised finger held onto Rock.

"There you go." He kept stroking Rigger's head, holding his hand, refusing to fucking cry.

Rig squeezed his hand and he frowned, eyes fighting to focus. "My ring? Blue? Tell me they didn't get my ring."

"You mean this one?" Rock asked, bringing his right hand up where Rigger could see it. He had Rig's ring on it, on his little finger, a plain silver band with a garnet in a simple setting.

"Oh. Oh, good. 's mine; you gave it to me." Rig looked at his swollen, twisted right hand. "Save it for me, Blue."

He nodded. "Yep, don't worry about it, Rig. I've got it. You get better and I'll put it back on."

"'kay." Rig blinked, giving a little whimper. "Hurts, Blue. Please."

"Sh. I know. I know." He felt so fucking helpless and he just wanted to hit something so bad, but that wasn't going to stop Rigger from hurting.

The nurse came over and checked Rig. There was a tube coming out of his chest, attached to some machine, another coming out of Rig's dick and... Fucking shit, there wasn't so much as a square inch of unbruised skin from bottom rib to thigh. Rig's nuts were huge and already purpling.

"He's looking really stable. The lung's draining well. Kidney's have some blood in them, but not much." The nurse nodded, satisfied. "Gonna give him some pain meds. He's going to float right away."

"You gonna be on for the rest of the night?"

"'til 7 am, but he'll get new nurses upstairs and you'll have a more comfortable chair." She injected something into Rig's IV. "He'll sleep soon."

Rock nodded, holding tight to Rigger's fingers. "You hear that, Rigger? She gave you the good stuff."

"Yeah. Hear you." Rigger was watching him with that one swollen eye. "Take me home soon?"

"Soon as I can, Rabbit. Soon as I can."

"Promise?"

"I do."

"'kay." Rigger's eye watched him for another minute or two, the battered body sinking into the bed as it relaxed. Finally the swollen eyelid closed. Through it all, Rigger held his hand.

Rock dropped his head, eyes closing. Fuck, he wanted this gone. It wasn't right. It shouldn't have happened. Not to his Rig.

He didn't know how long he sat there before a soft hand touched his shoulder. "We're going to move him now and we need your signature on a few things up front. Once he's settled, you'll be able to sit with him again."

"Thanks." He cleared his throat and tried again. "Thanks." He gave Rigger's hand one last squeeze and got up, putting his chair back against the wall. "Are they.. uh... gonna let his other friends come and see him? And his Momma's flying up tomorrow -- she's not gonna take no for an answer."

"Should be two at a time round the clock and anybody at visiting hours, so long as they let him rest." She smiled at him, beginning to unhook wires from machines. "He'll be fine. Don't worry."

He nodded and took another look at Rigger, wondering how he was supposed to not worry.

A glance at his watch told him he'd been in with Rig for nearly an hour. The kid was going to be pissing bricks. He took one last look and headed off to find Dick and deal with the paperwork.