musesandlyrics | 7.4. Friedrich Nietzsche quote
7.4. "The same passions in man and woman nonetheless differ in tempo; hence man and woman do not cease misunderstanding one another."
Friedrich Nietzsche
Co-written with geniuscowboy
It was around nine at night when the buzzer at Chris’ apartment door sounded. He couldn’t deny that he was surprised to hear it. A large part of him didn’t think it would happen. He knew it wasn’t Serena, she had a key and definitely wouldn’t ring the buzzer anymore. They had stopped ringing each other’s buzzers awhile ago now. Chris had been standing in his kitchen, looking out at the view of the beach in the distance while he waited for the kettle to boil. It had been a long day and draining day, and he didn’t think it was about to end any time soon. Rick’s chemo had started out okay on the face of it. In fact, he seemed to be tolerating it okay through the whole administration of it. He was fine when the central line was inserted, and seemed to stay fine as the drug entered his system, even feeling okay enough to tease Chris about overhearing him having sex with Serena in the middle of the previous night when he went to the bathroom.
It lulled Chris into a false sense of security, to say the least. He had a small voice in the back of his head reminding him what Dave had said, about the elevator trip after his first chemo session. In fact, it led Chris to watch Rick like a hawk in the elevator ride down to the car (Serena’s, she had volunteered it so Rick wouldn’t need to get a cab home), but still, Rick seemed to be okay, albeit very lethargic and sleepy. Chris was harbouring hopes his brother might get off with it lightly. He had a pretty intense first round ahead of his. One chemo dose a week for eight weeks, assuming there were no complications. The oncology nurses reeled off a lot of information that Chris logged away so Rick wouldn’t have the burden of absorbing it all, most seemed to like stating that optimistically, Rick might feel crap for a few days, then have a few days grace before he got the next dose. It sounded doable to Chris.
He had probably been too optimistic overall, though. None of the nurses once said to Rick that he had a good chance of getting no symptoms, they just liked telling him that if he did, some of the symptoms could be treated for his comfort. They got home around four in the afternoon with Rick saying he was just going to get a shower and then lie down in bed. The shower didn’t last very long, though. Chris was watching some Simpsons re-runs on the TV when he heard Rick calling out to him, and it was probably the quickest he had moved in a long time when he shot out of the seat and up the hallway to the bathroom. Rick was sitting on the side of the bath with a towel wrapped around his waist looking damp and flushed. Chris had asked him if he had the shower too hot, but Rick admitted he had hardly gotten under the water before he started feeling hot and sick like he was going to pass out, leading Chris to realise the dampness on Rick’s face was sweat and he was roasting. Despite that, though, Rick was shivering and Chris could see just from the look on his brother’s face that he was worried things were about to take a bad dive.
It was definitely a dive of some sort. It was lucky one of Chris’ first moves was to get Rick a bucket when he went to find a bathrobe for him so he wouldn’t get a chill. The vomiting didn’t exactly start quickly, it was a good fifteen minutes that Rick kept feeling like he was going to throw up when the nausea set in before he finally succumbed to it. Enough time for Chris to actually get Rick to the bedroom and into a light pair of pyjama pants with a t-shirt. There was nothing worse getting caught in a puke session naked. Chris knew that little nugget of information from personal experience. He was trying to take Rick’s temperature on his aural thermometer when Rick started to be forcefully sick into the bucket he was nursing on his lap. Luckily there was no fever, and after a little while of intense throwing up, Rick got a bit of a breather where he curled up on the bed and dozed off. At some point during the whole episode, Serena must have tried to phone Chris. He found a missed call from her on his cell phone, but he hadn’t even heard it ring. Even then, he sent her a text to let her know he noticed the missed call, but ended up turning his and Rick’s cell phone down to silent and taking the landline phone off the hook so none of them rang and woke Rick up. After another thought, Chris sent Serena another text telling her to come around later if she wanted to catch up rather than trying to call.
Rick wasn’t asleep for very long before he woke up again. He needed the bathroom urgently and Chris just made a point of not getting in his way and left a whole bunch of strategically placed sick bags he got from work around his apartment, including easy reach from the toilet, if Rick was going to need them. It persisted, and when Rick could not only keep the anti-nausea medication down but also couldn’t keep water down, Chris had done something he realised was probably overstepping the mark and had a page sent to Bella telling her that he was going to give Rick and IMI for an antiemetic, even if she hadn’t prescribed it. Chris wasn’t entirely innocent in his actions, and he was maybe testing the oncologist on how far she would go for his brother. If it was just one sympathy fuck, she would likely just call back and tell Chris to get Rick to the ER for the additional treatment, but no call came.
And then the buzzer was ringing and Chris hurried from the kitchen to the apartment door, opening it to find Bella standing there, dressed down in jeans and a lacy blouse with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. A far cry from her scrubs and lab coat earlier in the day. “If this is some sort of test, Dr Deleo, you win,” were the first words out of her mouth as she stood there and held out an injection kit for a strong anti-emetic and then pulled a clinical pouch of IV fluids from her handbag to give that to him, too.
It was then that Chris noticed she was carrying a medical case. She had come to treat Rick, and Chris couldn’t exactly read what that was supposed to mean. She was Rick’s doctor, and Chris had paged her at the hospital. This could fall into the doctor-patient lines just neatly. “Let’s just say it’s an experimental procedure,” he replied, accepting the supplies and stepping aside so she could come in. He found it interesting that she seemed to have assumed - correctly - that Rick had confided in his brother about what had happened between them. That didn’t mean Chris couldn’t be a little territorial as to her intentions.
Bella stepped into the apartment, and couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous it was. It wasn’t huge, and had a real air of bachelor pad, but it was modern and tastefully decorated with bright beachy colours, a large comfortable looking lounge suite the focal point of the open-planned room. It was funny, though, how sometimes, you could just get a sense that a sick person was at home... or maybe it was just Bella’s own experiences over the years. “Something I have never been particularly fond of,” she murmured and set her case down on his coffee table to crouch beside it and get what she needed out. She got out the tubing with a manual IV pump, curling it around her wrist to find a vial of saline flush. “How has he been? You said he’s not keeping any fluids down at all now? What about sucking on ice chips or those mint candies I suggested?” She stood up again, facing Chris and standing just a couple of feet away from him. She really hoped he wasn’t about to give her the third degree, but he just had a look about him that old her otherwise.
“He was okay until he wasn’t,” Chris told her, even if it sounded stupid. He hoped she realised it was just completely honest on his part. “It started with him feeling flushed and hot, but he was shivering. Then the nausea started, and the vomiting. He’s exhausted. He keeps dozing off, but the sick feeling wakes him up, and he says he feels sore and uncomfortable. It all sounds like it’s about right for what everyone has been saying about it, but it’s just hard to see, you know? He was taking water and ice, but the last hour or so, it’s been making him throw up when he tries. Not that he has much left to throw up. Did you really just give in to a sympathy fuck because you felt sorry for him?”
Bella knew she deserved that, but it didn’t come as any less a blow and the words came like an abrupt bite from a snake, despite his hushed tone. His body language said a lot more than he did. His shoulders were drawn back and his chin lifted a little defensively. She took the bag of fluids off him, so she had it all ready to hook up to Rick as a first port of call to ease the side effects a little. “No,” she replied quietly. “Because it wasn’t a sympathy fuck. I wanted to help him, yes, but you seem to have come to some sort of conclusion that I offer sex to my patients as an additional treatment.”
“Do you?” Chris shot back calmly, raising an eyebrow at her. “Because seriously, my brother and me might not have a fucking pin up family relationship, but you fuck him around or hurt him when he’s ill and I’ll have you struck off quicker than you can say brotherly love,” he added with a tight smile and then took the IV things off her. “I’ll hook him up, by the way. You can watch.”
Bella looked at her empty hand and then put it up to tuck some stray strands of hair behind her ear. “So, I’m allowed to take his kidney to save his life, but I’m not allowed to insert an IV line into arm? Okay. We’ll play it your way. I’ve had a hard day, Dr Deleo. I lost three patients in as many hours. I can assure you that hurting your brother or fucking him around is not something that is on my to-do list. Getting him treatment to ease his vomiting and hopefully ease some of his side effects is all I want to do. Why am I here to do that personally? Because I care about him , and we had a connection on some level. I’m not saying I’m proud that happened or that I intended it to, but when he asked me to help him out... I just wanted to. It’s really as simple as that. There is no conspiracy and I realise it was an ethically risky decision, but I don’t regret it. I’ll leave you to, it shall I? You can call me if he gets any worse, but with the meds and the fluids he should get a little bit of relief. Just tell him to sleep if he wants to, even if it’s on and off for days. It’s the best medicine for post-chemo.”
Chris closed his eyes and scrunched up his face. “Fuck,” he cursed softly and then sighed. “I’m sorry. It really wasn’t not my intention to be a complete bastard. Just maybe half a bastard. I just don’t want you to string him along, and I figure if you never intended to have strings anywhere near this because it really was just a one off thing and I’m totally putting my foot in it.” He shoved the things back in her hand. “I didn’t mean to indicate you sucked as a doctor. I don’t think you do. In fact, I’m pretty sure there is no better that could be taking care of my brother right now, so thank you. I’m sorry about your patients, but if it’s any consolation, that is one thing I do understand and I know it’s never easy.”
Of course, Bella wanted to quiz him about what he meant by putting his foot in it. The curiosity surged up inside her, but she just cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she responded. “From you, that means a lot. Do you want to take me to where he is so I can get this over with and leave you to hopefully get a bit of rest yourself? I know. Sounds stupid. Looks like saying stupid things is catching tonight. That happens when you’re tired and emotional.”
Chris nodded and gestured up the hall. “He was asleep last I checked. That doesn’t seem to last long, though. Are you sure this can go on for days?” he asked, dropping his voice when he reached the other bedroom where Rick was. He pushed the door open and went inside. Rick was curled up in a ball again, sleeping with the cover pulled up over his arm. Chris eased it away carefully, trying not to wake his brother and noticing the bucket needed cleaning again. Rick stirred, opening his eyes a little in confusion that he was being woken... or was awake... again... but Chris just squeezed his shoulder. “It’s okay, dude. I just need to give you a jab of something to ease the puking, alright? Just go back to sleep.” Rick was out again in moments, probably not even acknowledging Chris had spoken to him. Chris picked up the bucket, holding it away from Bella. “I’m just going to wash this out, but do what you need. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Bella watched Chris leave the room and then turned to where Rick was passed out in the bed. He looked a far cry from the man she had slept with a weak ago. The bedside lamp was on, and his face looked pale in the dim light. She was so exhausted herself, had felt continuously drained for about two days now, and it took all her inner strength not to crawl into the other side of the bed and spoon him. It had been a long time since she spooned anyone, and she missed it. She was only human, after all. Deep down, no one ever really wanted to be alone. Chris had left the injection kit on the nightstand, so she placed the bag of IV fluids down, with a quick glance around the room. In the corner, there was a modern uplighter so she went over and unplugged it, bringing it over to the bedside and tucking it up beside the drawers. It was high enough to hook the fluid bag onto and she ran the line from it, letting it hang down. She needed both her hands, though and had to try and get the canula in without waking Rick up. She eased herself down onto the edge of the bed, having just enough room there to fit and took his hand to rest it on her thigh. She watched his face intently for a moment to read if he was going to wake up, and before Chris even returned with the bucket, she had the line neatly inserted into the back of his hand and taped carefully. Rick continued to still sleep on, indicating just how wiped out he was. She was drawing up the anti-emetic injection when Chris came back and she glanced over her shoulder at him. “This should help a little bit. The aim is to keep him able to take a good amount of oral fluids, but ideally, I would prefer if he could eat something light too, even if he doesn’t keep it down. He might be completely averted to food, but a bit of dry toast, some crackers, even have some clear broth in the fridge you can heat up. If he has pain in his stomach, it just might put him off trying anything, though.” She held the injection up. “Do you want to do it?”
Chris stepped forward and put the bucket down, but he shook his head. “No, you go ahead. It’s fine. Broth? Jesus, this is where I fall down as a doctor. Too conveniently have the hospital kitchens on hand to make with the light diet orders. I might need to get S onto that one...” he murmured and rubbed his hand over his cheek and chin. If he needed a shave the night before, he more than needed one now, but it was the last thing on his mind. “Do you think it’s going to get any worse than this? Any pointers? I mean, it’s not like I can just phone you up to come over all the time, is it? Pretty sure right now you’ll be wanting to keep your professional distance and all that. He’s had pain in the gut, so I doubt food is going to be anything he wants to think about, but I’ll give it a shot.”
“I can stay for a little while. I’m not working tomorrow. You can try and get a bit of rest if you want. I can help him if he needs anything,” Bella offered. She could see Chris was holding up okay, but he drained. Any normal person would be and if he didn’t rest, he would burn out and be useless to his brother. Probably something he feared the most. On the flip side of the coin, Bella deeply suspected that being so weak and a burden on his brother was something Rick hadn’t been so favourable towards either. “This is worse than an average chemo reaction, but it’s nothing to be concerned about at this point. He only had an operation two weeks ago, so his body is still a little weakened. We just treat symptoms. The IV fluids should help with the dehydration, the injection will help with the vomiting, and next time he wakes, I’ll give him something for the diarrhoea. A heat pad might help with the stomach cramping or if he feels hot and flushed, an ice pack or cool cloth to his forehead. Keep him drinking. As you know, that’s the most important thing. He only has one kidney, the last thing we want is him to get too dehydrated. His system needs to keep flushing through to maintain kidney function.”
Chris blinked and then shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked from Bella to Rick, and then met her gaze again. “You would want to stay here, on your night off, to take care of him, completely off the clock? I don’t think this falls within the realms of your patient care, Dr Watson,” he said uncertainly.
“I know it doesn’t,” Bella replied without hesitation. She tucked her fingers under the sleeve of Rick’s t-shirt, holding the fabric away so she could swab his bicep with the alcohol wipe for the injection. She kept it quick, watching him closely in case he was going to wake up again but she liked to think she was adequate enough in giving a common injection like this without hurting someone of Rick’s build. He was more than toned and built, even if he had visibly lost weight in the past few weeks. The t-shirt he was wearing probably would have even been a snug fit a few weeks ago and it was a little loose on him now. “He doesn’t snore,” she found herself noticing with small hint of a laugh. She dropped the injection remnants back into the disposable tray and put a little round daisy band-aid over the wound. “The offer is there, Dr Deleo. It’s up to you.”
“Chris,” Chris jumped in and corrected, putting his hand over his mouth in thought as he watched Bella with Rick. The snoring comment was out of the blue, but it had Chris dropping his hand back down to rest on his hip with a small sigh. He remembered in the early days with Serena, just when they were bordering on going from more than just sex, she had told him it was cute that he only snored when he was really wrecked. It felt like some sort of other relationship test. “No, he doesn’t snore. I can’t really remember him ever snoring... Okay, um...” he began, and knew whatever came out of his mouth next would be a huge bearing on things for Rick. If Rick found out Bella offered to stay and Chris turned her down, Rick would likely be pissed off and confused. If Chris agreed for her to stay, chances were, Rick would wake up to her there, and be confused anyway. Better confused and not pissed off, right? “I could maybe use a bit of a lie down. Serena might be coming, but I don’t know when. That truck crash on the freeway landed in Alpha’s hands. She might not be done for awhile yet. So, if you want to just...” He waved his hand in her and Rick’s general direction. “But you gotta wake me if he gets any worse.”
Bella stood up and went over to Chris. She rested her hand on his upper arm and gave it a small rub. “That wouldn’t even be in question, Chris. Don’t think I don’t know I could be playing with fire here. But not everyone needs to go down unstable sinkholes or date a colleague to just feel that something reckless is sometimes just... right,” she added with a small shrug and then went over to the armchair by the window to sit down, ready to sit there for as long as it took.
Word Count | 3,722
Friedrich Nietzsche
Co-written with geniuscowboy
It was around nine at night when the buzzer at Chris’ apartment door sounded. He couldn’t deny that he was surprised to hear it. A large part of him didn’t think it would happen. He knew it wasn’t Serena, she had a key and definitely wouldn’t ring the buzzer anymore. They had stopped ringing each other’s buzzers awhile ago now. Chris had been standing in his kitchen, looking out at the view of the beach in the distance while he waited for the kettle to boil. It had been a long day and draining day, and he didn’t think it was about to end any time soon. Rick’s chemo had started out okay on the face of it. In fact, he seemed to be tolerating it okay through the whole administration of it. He was fine when the central line was inserted, and seemed to stay fine as the drug entered his system, even feeling okay enough to tease Chris about overhearing him having sex with Serena in the middle of the previous night when he went to the bathroom.
It lulled Chris into a false sense of security, to say the least. He had a small voice in the back of his head reminding him what Dave had said, about the elevator trip after his first chemo session. In fact, it led Chris to watch Rick like a hawk in the elevator ride down to the car (Serena’s, she had volunteered it so Rick wouldn’t need to get a cab home), but still, Rick seemed to be okay, albeit very lethargic and sleepy. Chris was harbouring hopes his brother might get off with it lightly. He had a pretty intense first round ahead of his. One chemo dose a week for eight weeks, assuming there were no complications. The oncology nurses reeled off a lot of information that Chris logged away so Rick wouldn’t have the burden of absorbing it all, most seemed to like stating that optimistically, Rick might feel crap for a few days, then have a few days grace before he got the next dose. It sounded doable to Chris.
He had probably been too optimistic overall, though. None of the nurses once said to Rick that he had a good chance of getting no symptoms, they just liked telling him that if he did, some of the symptoms could be treated for his comfort. They got home around four in the afternoon with Rick saying he was just going to get a shower and then lie down in bed. The shower didn’t last very long, though. Chris was watching some Simpsons re-runs on the TV when he heard Rick calling out to him, and it was probably the quickest he had moved in a long time when he shot out of the seat and up the hallway to the bathroom. Rick was sitting on the side of the bath with a towel wrapped around his waist looking damp and flushed. Chris had asked him if he had the shower too hot, but Rick admitted he had hardly gotten under the water before he started feeling hot and sick like he was going to pass out, leading Chris to realise the dampness on Rick’s face was sweat and he was roasting. Despite that, though, Rick was shivering and Chris could see just from the look on his brother’s face that he was worried things were about to take a bad dive.
It was definitely a dive of some sort. It was lucky one of Chris’ first moves was to get Rick a bucket when he went to find a bathrobe for him so he wouldn’t get a chill. The vomiting didn’t exactly start quickly, it was a good fifteen minutes that Rick kept feeling like he was going to throw up when the nausea set in before he finally succumbed to it. Enough time for Chris to actually get Rick to the bedroom and into a light pair of pyjama pants with a t-shirt. There was nothing worse getting caught in a puke session naked. Chris knew that little nugget of information from personal experience. He was trying to take Rick’s temperature on his aural thermometer when Rick started to be forcefully sick into the bucket he was nursing on his lap. Luckily there was no fever, and after a little while of intense throwing up, Rick got a bit of a breather where he curled up on the bed and dozed off. At some point during the whole episode, Serena must have tried to phone Chris. He found a missed call from her on his cell phone, but he hadn’t even heard it ring. Even then, he sent her a text to let her know he noticed the missed call, but ended up turning his and Rick’s cell phone down to silent and taking the landline phone off the hook so none of them rang and woke Rick up. After another thought, Chris sent Serena another text telling her to come around later if she wanted to catch up rather than trying to call.
Rick wasn’t asleep for very long before he woke up again. He needed the bathroom urgently and Chris just made a point of not getting in his way and left a whole bunch of strategically placed sick bags he got from work around his apartment, including easy reach from the toilet, if Rick was going to need them. It persisted, and when Rick could not only keep the anti-nausea medication down but also couldn’t keep water down, Chris had done something he realised was probably overstepping the mark and had a page sent to Bella telling her that he was going to give Rick and IMI for an antiemetic, even if she hadn’t prescribed it. Chris wasn’t entirely innocent in his actions, and he was maybe testing the oncologist on how far she would go for his brother. If it was just one sympathy fuck, she would likely just call back and tell Chris to get Rick to the ER for the additional treatment, but no call came.
And then the buzzer was ringing and Chris hurried from the kitchen to the apartment door, opening it to find Bella standing there, dressed down in jeans and a lacy blouse with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. A far cry from her scrubs and lab coat earlier in the day. “If this is some sort of test, Dr Deleo, you win,” were the first words out of her mouth as she stood there and held out an injection kit for a strong anti-emetic and then pulled a clinical pouch of IV fluids from her handbag to give that to him, too.
It was then that Chris noticed she was carrying a medical case. She had come to treat Rick, and Chris couldn’t exactly read what that was supposed to mean. She was Rick’s doctor, and Chris had paged her at the hospital. This could fall into the doctor-patient lines just neatly. “Let’s just say it’s an experimental procedure,” he replied, accepting the supplies and stepping aside so she could come in. He found it interesting that she seemed to have assumed - correctly - that Rick had confided in his brother about what had happened between them. That didn’t mean Chris couldn’t be a little territorial as to her intentions.
Bella stepped into the apartment, and couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous it was. It wasn’t huge, and had a real air of bachelor pad, but it was modern and tastefully decorated with bright beachy colours, a large comfortable looking lounge suite the focal point of the open-planned room. It was funny, though, how sometimes, you could just get a sense that a sick person was at home... or maybe it was just Bella’s own experiences over the years. “Something I have never been particularly fond of,” she murmured and set her case down on his coffee table to crouch beside it and get what she needed out. She got out the tubing with a manual IV pump, curling it around her wrist to find a vial of saline flush. “How has he been? You said he’s not keeping any fluids down at all now? What about sucking on ice chips or those mint candies I suggested?” She stood up again, facing Chris and standing just a couple of feet away from him. She really hoped he wasn’t about to give her the third degree, but he just had a look about him that old her otherwise.
“He was okay until he wasn’t,” Chris told her, even if it sounded stupid. He hoped she realised it was just completely honest on his part. “It started with him feeling flushed and hot, but he was shivering. Then the nausea started, and the vomiting. He’s exhausted. He keeps dozing off, but the sick feeling wakes him up, and he says he feels sore and uncomfortable. It all sounds like it’s about right for what everyone has been saying about it, but it’s just hard to see, you know? He was taking water and ice, but the last hour or so, it’s been making him throw up when he tries. Not that he has much left to throw up. Did you really just give in to a sympathy fuck because you felt sorry for him?”
Bella knew she deserved that, but it didn’t come as any less a blow and the words came like an abrupt bite from a snake, despite his hushed tone. His body language said a lot more than he did. His shoulders were drawn back and his chin lifted a little defensively. She took the bag of fluids off him, so she had it all ready to hook up to Rick as a first port of call to ease the side effects a little. “No,” she replied quietly. “Because it wasn’t a sympathy fuck. I wanted to help him, yes, but you seem to have come to some sort of conclusion that I offer sex to my patients as an additional treatment.”
“Do you?” Chris shot back calmly, raising an eyebrow at her. “Because seriously, my brother and me might not have a fucking pin up family relationship, but you fuck him around or hurt him when he’s ill and I’ll have you struck off quicker than you can say brotherly love,” he added with a tight smile and then took the IV things off her. “I’ll hook him up, by the way. You can watch.”
Bella looked at her empty hand and then put it up to tuck some stray strands of hair behind her ear. “So, I’m allowed to take his kidney to save his life, but I’m not allowed to insert an IV line into arm? Okay. We’ll play it your way. I’ve had a hard day, Dr Deleo. I lost three patients in as many hours. I can assure you that hurting your brother or fucking him around is not something that is on my to-do list. Getting him treatment to ease his vomiting and hopefully ease some of his side effects is all I want to do. Why am I here to do that personally? Because I care about him , and we had a connection on some level. I’m not saying I’m proud that happened or that I intended it to, but when he asked me to help him out... I just wanted to. It’s really as simple as that. There is no conspiracy and I realise it was an ethically risky decision, but I don’t regret it. I’ll leave you to, it shall I? You can call me if he gets any worse, but with the meds and the fluids he should get a little bit of relief. Just tell him to sleep if he wants to, even if it’s on and off for days. It’s the best medicine for post-chemo.”
Chris closed his eyes and scrunched up his face. “Fuck,” he cursed softly and then sighed. “I’m sorry. It really wasn’t not my intention to be a complete bastard. Just maybe half a bastard. I just don’t want you to string him along, and I figure if you never intended to have strings anywhere near this because it really was just a one off thing and I’m totally putting my foot in it.” He shoved the things back in her hand. “I didn’t mean to indicate you sucked as a doctor. I don’t think you do. In fact, I’m pretty sure there is no better that could be taking care of my brother right now, so thank you. I’m sorry about your patients, but if it’s any consolation, that is one thing I do understand and I know it’s never easy.”
Of course, Bella wanted to quiz him about what he meant by putting his foot in it. The curiosity surged up inside her, but she just cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she responded. “From you, that means a lot. Do you want to take me to where he is so I can get this over with and leave you to hopefully get a bit of rest yourself? I know. Sounds stupid. Looks like saying stupid things is catching tonight. That happens when you’re tired and emotional.”
Chris nodded and gestured up the hall. “He was asleep last I checked. That doesn’t seem to last long, though. Are you sure this can go on for days?” he asked, dropping his voice when he reached the other bedroom where Rick was. He pushed the door open and went inside. Rick was curled up in a ball again, sleeping with the cover pulled up over his arm. Chris eased it away carefully, trying not to wake his brother and noticing the bucket needed cleaning again. Rick stirred, opening his eyes a little in confusion that he was being woken... or was awake... again... but Chris just squeezed his shoulder. “It’s okay, dude. I just need to give you a jab of something to ease the puking, alright? Just go back to sleep.” Rick was out again in moments, probably not even acknowledging Chris had spoken to him. Chris picked up the bucket, holding it away from Bella. “I’m just going to wash this out, but do what you need. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Bella watched Chris leave the room and then turned to where Rick was passed out in the bed. He looked a far cry from the man she had slept with a weak ago. The bedside lamp was on, and his face looked pale in the dim light. She was so exhausted herself, had felt continuously drained for about two days now, and it took all her inner strength not to crawl into the other side of the bed and spoon him. It had been a long time since she spooned anyone, and she missed it. She was only human, after all. Deep down, no one ever really wanted to be alone. Chris had left the injection kit on the nightstand, so she placed the bag of IV fluids down, with a quick glance around the room. In the corner, there was a modern uplighter so she went over and unplugged it, bringing it over to the bedside and tucking it up beside the drawers. It was high enough to hook the fluid bag onto and she ran the line from it, letting it hang down. She needed both her hands, though and had to try and get the canula in without waking Rick up. She eased herself down onto the edge of the bed, having just enough room there to fit and took his hand to rest it on her thigh. She watched his face intently for a moment to read if he was going to wake up, and before Chris even returned with the bucket, she had the line neatly inserted into the back of his hand and taped carefully. Rick continued to still sleep on, indicating just how wiped out he was. She was drawing up the anti-emetic injection when Chris came back and she glanced over her shoulder at him. “This should help a little bit. The aim is to keep him able to take a good amount of oral fluids, but ideally, I would prefer if he could eat something light too, even if he doesn’t keep it down. He might be completely averted to food, but a bit of dry toast, some crackers, even have some clear broth in the fridge you can heat up. If he has pain in his stomach, it just might put him off trying anything, though.” She held the injection up. “Do you want to do it?”
Chris stepped forward and put the bucket down, but he shook his head. “No, you go ahead. It’s fine. Broth? Jesus, this is where I fall down as a doctor. Too conveniently have the hospital kitchens on hand to make with the light diet orders. I might need to get S onto that one...” he murmured and rubbed his hand over his cheek and chin. If he needed a shave the night before, he more than needed one now, but it was the last thing on his mind. “Do you think it’s going to get any worse than this? Any pointers? I mean, it’s not like I can just phone you up to come over all the time, is it? Pretty sure right now you’ll be wanting to keep your professional distance and all that. He’s had pain in the gut, so I doubt food is going to be anything he wants to think about, but I’ll give it a shot.”
“I can stay for a little while. I’m not working tomorrow. You can try and get a bit of rest if you want. I can help him if he needs anything,” Bella offered. She could see Chris was holding up okay, but he drained. Any normal person would be and if he didn’t rest, he would burn out and be useless to his brother. Probably something he feared the most. On the flip side of the coin, Bella deeply suspected that being so weak and a burden on his brother was something Rick hadn’t been so favourable towards either. “This is worse than an average chemo reaction, but it’s nothing to be concerned about at this point. He only had an operation two weeks ago, so his body is still a little weakened. We just treat symptoms. The IV fluids should help with the dehydration, the injection will help with the vomiting, and next time he wakes, I’ll give him something for the diarrhoea. A heat pad might help with the stomach cramping or if he feels hot and flushed, an ice pack or cool cloth to his forehead. Keep him drinking. As you know, that’s the most important thing. He only has one kidney, the last thing we want is him to get too dehydrated. His system needs to keep flushing through to maintain kidney function.”
Chris blinked and then shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked from Bella to Rick, and then met her gaze again. “You would want to stay here, on your night off, to take care of him, completely off the clock? I don’t think this falls within the realms of your patient care, Dr Watson,” he said uncertainly.
“I know it doesn’t,” Bella replied without hesitation. She tucked her fingers under the sleeve of Rick’s t-shirt, holding the fabric away so she could swab his bicep with the alcohol wipe for the injection. She kept it quick, watching him closely in case he was going to wake up again but she liked to think she was adequate enough in giving a common injection like this without hurting someone of Rick’s build. He was more than toned and built, even if he had visibly lost weight in the past few weeks. The t-shirt he was wearing probably would have even been a snug fit a few weeks ago and it was a little loose on him now. “He doesn’t snore,” she found herself noticing with small hint of a laugh. She dropped the injection remnants back into the disposable tray and put a little round daisy band-aid over the wound. “The offer is there, Dr Deleo. It’s up to you.”
“Chris,” Chris jumped in and corrected, putting his hand over his mouth in thought as he watched Bella with Rick. The snoring comment was out of the blue, but it had Chris dropping his hand back down to rest on his hip with a small sigh. He remembered in the early days with Serena, just when they were bordering on going from more than just sex, she had told him it was cute that he only snored when he was really wrecked. It felt like some sort of other relationship test. “No, he doesn’t snore. I can’t really remember him ever snoring... Okay, um...” he began, and knew whatever came out of his mouth next would be a huge bearing on things for Rick. If Rick found out Bella offered to stay and Chris turned her down, Rick would likely be pissed off and confused. If Chris agreed for her to stay, chances were, Rick would wake up to her there, and be confused anyway. Better confused and not pissed off, right? “I could maybe use a bit of a lie down. Serena might be coming, but I don’t know when. That truck crash on the freeway landed in Alpha’s hands. She might not be done for awhile yet. So, if you want to just...” He waved his hand in her and Rick’s general direction. “But you gotta wake me if he gets any worse.”
Bella stood up and went over to Chris. She rested her hand on his upper arm and gave it a small rub. “That wouldn’t even be in question, Chris. Don’t think I don’t know I could be playing with fire here. But not everyone needs to go down unstable sinkholes or date a colleague to just feel that something reckless is sometimes just... right,” she added with a small shrug and then went over to the armchair by the window to sit down, ready to sit there for as long as it took.
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