Chapter 12
The entire base is abuzz the moment the plane touches back down in Montana. Crowds gather around, waiting to see if the infamous Reaper was actually found, or if it was another failed mission that will be the end of so many careers.
Liz remains attached to Riley’s side, watching all the other soldiers collect their belongings and line up, ready to file off the aircraft and accept whatever punishment awaits. Sneaking a peek out the window, she sees too many people, too many gathered to see if they can catch a glimpse at Riley.
“Hey Alex,” she shouts over the voices. The unit commander finds her, standing over Riley, gently raking her fingers through his blood-soaked hair. “He can’t go out there like this,” she says, pleading.
“There is no other choice, he needs medical attention. He is stable now, but there is no telling how long he will stay that way. We have to get him to the infirmary as quickly as possible,” he counters.
“What I mean is, he can’t go out there like this.
” She motions to his face, completely bare except for the oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose.
“He needs something to cover his face––everyone on board has already seen too much. We can’t let everyone outside see, too,” she argues, tears welling in her eyes.
She knows what it feels like to be violated, to be stripped bare and watched against your will. He does not deserve to be paraded in front of all the prying eyes, especially his fellow soldiers.
With a nod, Alex leaves her side, rummaging around in his bag until he finds something she considers suitable.
She picks his head up, the same care and gentleness of holding a newborn baby, and tucks the scrap of cloth under it.
She makes sure it covers from his neck to his cheek bones, only letting his eyes show, just as he would want.
The short walk to the infirmary is daunting.
Liz is forced to walk a few steps behind the men pushing Riley across the lot, nothing more than a dutiful soldier escorting her commanding officer.
The wide-eyed stares from the crowd as they pass by quickly turn into gossipy whispers.
Her one and only goal right now is to keep it together long enough to get him safely into a hospital bed and start receiving real care, she will figure out the rest later.
One step after another, her eyes focus on the man in front of her until they finally reach the double doors she has been waiting for.
Inside is quiet, away from the murmurs of those wondering if Riley is dead or not, and Liz can finally breathe easier.
She follows them to a room, standing just outside of the door while they get Riley moved from the stretcher onto a proper bed.
Looking around, she is amazed at how quickly everyone moves to take care of him.
The only experience she has had was with civilian hospitals, where even in the most dire of emergencies, you are forced to sit in an overcrowded waiting room and pray to whatever, or whoever, you believe in that you don’t die before the doctor sees you.
When the two men leave, she takes the opportunity to slip into the room, pulling a chair next to his bed.
Just as she is about to reach for him, she remembers what it was like for her just a few months ago. No one has any idea what he has been subjected to, and even Liz can only make assumptions based on her own experiences.
She snatches her hand back, cracking every knuckle she can, focusing on the pop each one makes to keep from touching him. Guilt courses through her. The moment he was down, she held him, she kissed him. What if he doesn’t want to be touched, let alone kissed?
All the doubts about how he truly feels about her come rushing back. If he didn’t hate her already, there is no doubt he will now. She tells herself she can apologize when he is awake, but for now, a silent vow to keep her distance will have to do.
They aren’t waiting long before a woman in teal scrubs marches into the room like she owns it.
Liz stands, placing her arms straight at her sides with her legs together, trying to remember everything her team had told her about military customs. The woman ignores her, going right to Riley’s bedside where she begins checking him over.
“What can you tell me about what happened?” she asks, her voice shrill and grating.
Liz looks away when she pulls bandage scissors out and cuts her way up his pants.
“He was held for forty-eight days. There is no information on what was done to him while he was captive. How––”
“Lift his leg for me,” the doctor cuts in.
Liz quickly does as she is instructed, slightly holding up his leg while she rolls him, pulling the fabric from under his body.
“He was strung up with hooks through his back, and his arms were also chained above him, although we have no way of knowing how long he was left like that. He was in and out of consciousness when the hooks were removed. Since then he has had a morphine drip that has kept him sedated. They also gave him two bags of different IVs on the flight over,” Liz states, lifting his other leg so the doctor can finish removing his pants.
When she is done, she slides the chair to the other side of the room and sits, watching the woman check every inch of Riley.
After his heart rate and blood pressure are checked, and rechecked for good measure, the doctor peels his eyes open, shining her light into his pupils before moving on to the rest of his body.
Liz can’t help herself from looking as the doctor pulls back the sheet, revealing his torso, still strong and defined, even with the loss of some muscle mass.
New injuries cover his body, everything from small scratches and cigarette burns, to deep slices that look as if they had been crudely stitched back together.
She looks away, her stomach threatening to expel its contents thinking of all he has been through.
Instead, she sits quietly, watching the steady thump of his heartbeat on the monitor off to the side.
“Well, all things considered, he seems to be doing remarkably well. When will your commanding officer be here? I need to speak with someone who can understand his injuries and limitations.”
“Oh, um, I’m not sure. He has a lot he needs to take care of. I am more than capable of telling him everything if you would like to just tell me,” Liz says, taken aback by the woman’s hostility.
“He should wake up soon, so hopefully your C.O. will be here when he does. I’ll speak to them then,” she sneers, walking out the door.
Liz slumps in her chair, throwing her head back in frustration, and wondering what she could have done to piss off someone she has never met before.
She sits in that chair until her legs fall asleep, switching between playing childish games on her phone and getting lost in a musical, waiting for anything to change.
Meanwhile, the rest of her friends are most likely being screamed at and punished for something she begged them to do.
The guilt threatens to overtake her, realizing that everyone in every shitty situation they are in was caused by her.
“Princess?” A raspy, beautiful voice says from across the room. Tears spring to her eyes, rolling down her cheeks as she looks over to find Riley, barely awake, looking at her with those impossibly stunning amber eyes she thought she would never see again.
“Hi,” she chokes out, not knowing what else to say, wiping the tears from her face.
“Am I dead?” he asks. His voice is too rough. He sounds as if he hasn’t had a drink in weeks.
Liz looks around, hoping the doctor will come back in so she can ask if he can have water.
“No sweetie, you’re alive. Safe at home,” she tells him, wanting so badly to reach out and take his hand. “I’ll go get the doctor and let her know you’re awake.” The chair scrapes across the cheap tile floor as she pushes herself up.
“No,” he says with a groan. Liz is not proud of the flips her stomach does at the noise. “Stay.”
She lowers herself back into her seat, doing what he commands.
Their eyes meet, sending her heart racing at the intensity in his gaze.
Like when they first met, neither is willing to break that contact first, so they stay just like that, looking into each other’s eyes until Riley’s starts to drift closed.
She doesn’t look away, she won’t, until she knows he is back asleep.
Back in the silence, she makes a group chat between herself, Mikey, Tyler, and Alex, shooting them a quick message to let them know the doctor won’t talk to her, but Riley woke up again.
No more than thirty seconds after she hits send a response pops up.
A warning from Mikey. Dread consumes her.
Matt is on his way, and he will be there any second.
Wishing she could pretend to be asleep, she slides her phone back into a pocket and listens for the right set of footsteps to echo through the empty hall. There is nothing she can do but brace herself as the heavy door is pushed open and Matt steps in, looking more smug than usual.
“He just couldn’t wait to send you to spy on us, could he?” Liz asks, making sure he can tell how annoyed she is by his presence.
“Aww. Don’t act like that. Maybe I was just excited to see you.”
“Well, be excited somewhere else. Riley doesn’t need strangers in his room,” Liz snaps, still watching his breathing, praying he doesn’t wake up again until Matt is long gone.
“No can do. While your besties are fighting with the boss man, I have the pleasure of keeping you company. Someone has to make sure you don’t plan on running again.”
“I didn’t run, dumbass. They got new information and didn’t have time to make a whole thing about it.
If we didn’t go when we did, we wouldn’t have found Riley.
And if he really wants to throw a fit, what I signed said I was to remain under Riley’s supervision at all times, so I was just trying to obey my orders. ”
“You’re good. I didn’t know that little detail. You still should have let someone know.”
“It was either save him or stroke the general’s ego. Look me in the eyes and tell me I should have let him die just to follow protocol,” she snaps, glaring at him
“God, I hope you’re this committed to me when I take over.”
“What makes you think you will be taking over? Riley is back, and when he is cleared, he will step back into his position, until then, Alex is in charge,” she remarks.
“He wasn’t supposed to come back, and his position was meant to be mine,” he snaps, brows furrowed and jaw tense, glaring at Riley unconscious in the hospital bed.
Before she is able to ask just what he meant by that, he changes the subject, “Now that he is back, are you going to let me take you to dinner? I know a great little place in town.”
“I told you, I’m seeing someone, and it’s insanely fucking rude to ask me on a date in front of him.” Her eyes snap to his, watching as his own hazel eyes dart between her and Riley.
“Alright, honey, it sounds like your three stooges are finally on their way so I’ll step out.
I promise we will get dinner again soon,” he says, looking straight at Riley smirking in a way that makes her skin crawl before shuffling out the door.
The tiny room is quickly replaced with three grown men in sour moods, bickering amongst themselves like their friend isn’t lying unconscious in a bed next to them.
They quickly remember the reason they are there and settle down. Emotions, high or not, a hospital is not the place to handle their problems. Mikey makes his way to Liz’s chair, dropping to his knees in front of her. She throws herself into his hug, needing it more than he could ever know.
“We’re here now. Why don’t you go shower and get some fresh clothes on before he wakes up for good.” His voice rumbles against her neck.
“I can’t leave him––” she protests.
“Do you want the first time he sees you to be when you smell like a wet sewer rat?” Mikey teases.
“You have my word, if he wakes before you get back I will personally put him back to sleep,” Alex intervenes.
He is right. Her hair is a tangled mess, grimy from the sweat her helmet caused. Her clothes are covered in dirt and blood, soaked with now dried river water. She pushes herself up, dragging her feet to the door, not ready or willing to leave his side yet.
“And take Mikey with you. When Ry wakes up, I give it three hours before he is fighting to go home, so you may want to have a room ready for him to go back to,” Alex adds as they walk out together.
After her steaming shower, Liz digs out her favorite, buttery soft black leggings and matching long sleeve top, slipping into them faster than she thought possible.
Next she tackles the absolute mess of hair she has, getting it brushed and pulled up into a messy bun, letting some of her curls spring free.
While Mikey is in the shower, Liz packs all of her belongings, leaving the bags next to the door while she strips the bed sheets and puts a fresh set on.
Hopefully, Riley won’t mind the white and black floral bedding she bought.
The dresser is still filled with his neatly folded clothes, but she pulls a mask out and places it on the pillow, just in case.
Liz runs into the kitchen and takes an armful of bottled water and some of his favorite snacks, and displays them on the bedside table, trying to make sure he has whatever he could need.
Her eyes linger on the photo, wondering if it’s too much, or if he will think she is weird for taking it, so she decides to hide it in the drawer.
If things go well, and they pick up where they left off, she will take it out, but if not, she can return it to its rightful place in his room at the bunker.
“You are not moving in here,” Mikey shouts, catching her unpacking a bag into the second dresser in his room, parading in with just a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Yes I am, roomie.” She pays him no mind as she shoves handfuls of clothes into the overcrowded drawers.
“He’s going to be pissed. I know you keep having doubts about his feelings, but you can’t just break up with him like that.”
“Kind of hard to break up when you were never in a defined relationship. And besides, I know, and don’t know, what he is going through.
We don’t know his headspace. He may want to be alone and untouched and until he says otherwise he deserves to have that.
” Her eyes plead with him to understand that it’s not about her and her feelings.
“He will kill me if I share a room with you,” he argues
“He will not. Now, can you please get dressed so we can get back over there? The mean doctor lady told me he should wake up soon.”