In the ER [fic with meet_thunder]
Follows this.
#4 of 5
Once stretched out in his arms, she knew her injuries warranted a trip to the ER but she just didn’t want to go. She didn’t want a record or questions or hapless interns questioning Leroy like he was the one who had thrown her around the room. But she couldn’t get comfortable and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. At one point, Leroy moved his hand over her side and she cried out, feeling her rib shift. With the adrenaline finally subsiding, she could feel every little thing that was wrong.
“We need to get you to the ER, Heather.” His voice was soft. Tortured. She tightened her hand in his shirt, but her wrist was swelling so badly it hurt to do so.
“What about the boys? I can’t let them wake up in a strange place without me here.”
“We either wake them up and take them or we ask my next door neighbor to keep an eye on them. She’s the one I told you about, the cop. She’ll understand discretion. You can’t go through the night without getting checked out.” He paused. “Heather, you could have more serious injuries we don’t even know about.”
“What about Charles’ career? This is out of character for him. I don’t want to ruin everything for him.” She had to chuckle at herself. Her husband beat her hard enough to break a rib and she was worried about his career. Truthfully, she didn’t want the hassle. She wanted to lie in bed until she felt better.
“You don’t have to press charges. You do have to get looked at, honey.” He moved and she cried again and knew he was right. “Come on. I’ll go talk to Caroline.”
With ginger movements, Heather got out of bed, realizing for the first time she was still in her blood stained clothes. “Can I change into one of your shirts?” He nodded and handed her one of the smaller Marine t-shirts and an old NIS sweatshirt. But she couldn’t pull her shirt over her head and he had to help her.
“Oh, God. Heather.” He knelt down in front of her, his hands moving centimeters over her skin. Never touching but examining. “Oh my God, this … we need to get you in now. I’m gonna kill him.”
“Don’t you dare.” She choked a bit, her hands on his shoulders. “He isn’t worth going to jail for, Leroy.”
“Which is why he’s still breathing.” He did kiss her ribs, a whisper across her skin, before standing up and helping to pull the clothes over her head. She swam in them, but they smelled like him and it helped her head to be wrapped in him.
Nervously, she followed her lover down the stairs, glancing back every step as if the boys would suddenly be awake. Leroy had his keys and shoved his wallet in his pocket and she grabbed her purse, but suddenly couldn’t lift it. He took it from her and ushered her out the door. “I’ll go talk to Caroline, you go climb in the truck.” Suddenly numb, she nodded. Her brain running through all possible issues, including the idea that in the time she’d been gone Charles had found a way to freeze her access to everything including her insurance. Could Leroy even put her on his if they weren’t married? What about money? Her work account and her personal account were her own, but the joint account had money that was hers. Would he freeze that too? Did she even care? She was starting to shiver.
Movement caught her eye and she saw Leroy moving across the drive with a tall brunette. The neighbor cop he’d mentioned. Caroline Chambers was sweet and Heather knew why he was bringing her over, to clarify that there was someone who knew he hadn’t been the one to beat her. It was clear she believed Leroy from the way she didn’t ask any questions other than how she was feeling. It was nice to look at a neighbor and realize she wasn’t a nosy gossip. “They’re scared, Caroline,” Heather heard herself saying. “If they wake up in a strange house and no one is there …”
“I’ll be there. Don’t worry, they’ll be in good hands if they wake up. Kids are incredibly resilient and if they’ve seen you … they’ll be okay knowing you’ve got a doctor looking at you. Go on. I’ll be here.” The sweet tone made Heather start to cry but the tears clogged her up and she couldn’t breathe and she felt like a complete idiot.
Jen would never let herself get caught in a position like this.
Leroy started the truck with a thank you to Caroline. Heather fell silent, staring out the window into oblivion. She could feel his hand over hers, clammy and shaking, and she wanted to reassure him, but her shock had settled in and she could only worry inside her head. The man mainlined caffeine and his hands never shook but he was shaking.
What would Jenny do? Would she have killed Charles if he laid a hand on her? Yes, she would have.
But, she never would have cheated in the first place. She’d have kept everything in perfect pecking order. She’d have married the man who was perfect for her and had her perfect job and her kids would have been stylish and perfect. Jenny never screwed it up; maybe that was why she hadn’t married Jethro. Some other part of her brain told her that none of that had actually happened - other than the job - but her sister could do anything. Everything. Her sister could slay dragons with one hand and politicians with the other. She never would have let herself get trapped in the situation Heather was in. But it was her sister who had told her over and over again that Charles was perfect for her - until of course he’d hit her that first time. Then she never said a word at all about him.
She was so lost in her head that she didn’t notice Leroy pulling into the ER lot and killing the engine. Through her haze, she heard his voice and turned, wincing. “We’re here, babe.” He squeezed her hand. “Your insurance stuff in your wallet?” He asked gently. She looked up at the ER doors, realizing he’d taken her to the civilian hospital even though she qualified to go to the one on base. He was keeping her out of the system as much as he could and she loved him for it. Through her shock she realized her teeth were chattering. She was scared. They’d think he hit her. They’d separate them. She didn’t want to be separated from him.
She was right.
Inside the ER, they’d barely put her name to the triage sheet before a nurse appeared out of nowhere and pulled her into a private room. She glanced over her shoulder and saw every person in the waiting area glaring at Leroy. She wanted to scream that he hadn’t been the one, but her mouth was no longer connected to her brain.
“Is this the first time he’s hit you?” The nurse asked while shining a light in her pupils.
“No.” She stopped herself, trying to think before answering. She couldn’t let them think it had been Leroy. “No. He never has. It’s my …” she stopped herself, still trying to find her words, but they were lost in her brain. “I don’t want to press charges. But the man who brought me in, he wasn’t the one who hit me.”
“You were assaulted, honey.” The nurse was gentle but stern. “And if you’re scared of him, we can make sure you’re protected. Do you have children? Did he hit you in front of them?”
This was why she hadn’t wanted to come in. She didn’t want them questioning Leroy and treading him like some damned suspect. She didn’t want social workers and cops and nurses treating her like she was a piece of broken glass. If that was how they saw her, how would Leroy? Was she damaged to him now? Too weak to handle this? “You aren’t hearing me,” she started to beg. “My soon to be ex husband did this, not the man out in the waiting room. Please, just get him back here. Please.” She could feel the shock turning to panic, the events of the day coming clear. She couldn’t breathe, her eye was almost swollen shut, her wrist was surely broken, and all she wanted was to crawl back into bed and hide. She needed to know Leroy wasn’t going anywhere.
The nurse looked at her for a long moment and then nodded, finally seeming to get it. “Okay. The doctor will be here in a minute.” She handed her a gown. “You need to change into this so we can look at the rest of your injuries, okay?”
“Okay.” Heather stared at the ugly blue and white cotton. She was now, officially, a statistic. Part of the numbers thrown up on the screen whenever people wanted funding for domestic violence cases. The vomit rose up again and this time she couldn’t stop it but luckily, the nurse seemed to know what she was looking for and there was a basin to catch it.
Tears streamed from her eyes as it finally ended. Her ribs hurt more than ever and she still couldn’t breathe and now everything smelled like bile. The nurse handed her a wet paper towel and a cup to wash her mouth out. “Better?” She asked gently.
Actually, it was. Heather nodded. “Thank you.”
“Go ahead and change. I’ll go get the guy who brought you in.”
Left alone, Heather realized she couldn’t even pull her shirt off her hands were shaking so much. So she sat and waited, feeling completely helpless. An age later, Leroy pulled aside the curtain and looked at her, nothing but love and concern in his eyes. She stared up at him. “They think you’re a wife beater.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “I’ll set them straight. You asking for me helped a little.”
She held out the gown. “They want me to change. I can’t even …”
“Yeah. I’ve got it. Here.” His hands were gentle as he reached for the bottom of the shirt, gently tugging it over her head. He stopped when it was free from her hair and for a moment, she remembered the glass. They had to get the glass out of her hair. “Heather,” he suddenly sounded panicked. “Focus on me. Can you do that?” She tried to meet his eyes but was seeing triple and she needed to vomit again.
He moved behind her to release the clasps on her bra and together they pulled the lace from her. He folded it and placed it with her shirt and then helped her into the gown before sitting with her on the gurney. “Thank you.” She leaned against him in the only position she could find comfortable. The tears had finally stopped, but she could feel more coming.
Twice in fifteen years, she thought with a sigh. Not counting the times he grabbed her arms or her hips in the middle of one of his anger filled tantrums. It didn’t count the times he stood over her while his voice dropped to low, dangerous levels or the ways he found to compare her inabilities to his mother’s. It didn’t count the times he lectured and lectured about everything she was doing wrong. Never once, she realized, did he promise to not treat her like his father treated his mother. Instead it was always there in the background, a subtle, constant threat.
The curtain was pulled aside again and a female intern stood there, her head tilted in a way that promised endless patience. Heather wanted to flee. “I’m Doctor Keller,” the woman said with a soft tone that Heather was sure was supposed to put her at ease but all it did was make her skin crawl. “You’re Heather Thomas, correct?”
She nodded, wondering how long it would take for her to drop the Thomas from her name. How long until she got to be Heather Gibbs? When would it be safe? She shivered and looked back at the doctor, remembering the question. Right now she was still legally Heather Thomas and a part of her needed to claim Charles in the moment. He did this to her. This life did this to her. She did this to herself.
“And you are?” The doctor was looking at Leroy like was a cockroach.
“Agent Gibbs, NCIS.”
As he flashed his badge, Heather thanked God for his instincts. His presence as the law enforcement officer who brought her in will help to keep them from calling the local cops. He was too patient, too good at his job to even come across as an abusive spouse. She hoped. Anyway, the names didn’t match.
Why did abusers bring their victims in to hospitals anyway? They had to know they’d be questioned. Focus, Heather, she told herself. Focus.
“Oh.” The doctor nodded. “Do you need photographs or an sae kit?”
“Photographs.” Leroy kept talking like a cop and she let him, just for a minute. He was right. She did need documentation incase the custody case got ugly. She didn’t want to use this against Charles, but if he tried to take Daniel, she would.
“He didn’t rape me,” Heather said softly, again nauseous, realizing just how lucky she’d been. Charles had been in the position to rape her but he hadn’t. “Just this.” Would Leroy still want her if Charles had raped her? Focus, Heather.
The doctor nodded, making some notes. “Okay. Can you tell me what happened?”
She took a breath and pressed the side of her head that didn’t hurt into Leroy’s shoulder. “My husband threw me into a glass shelf. I think I hit my head on the corner. I’m not sure. But I know it shattered. I fell into the supports. My ribs hurt.”
“They’re bruised very badly,” Leroy said, still in cop mode. Heather realized that somehow it was all that was keeping him from finding a way to have Charles arrested for abuse.
“Did he also hit you?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Heather watched Doctor Keller scribble notes and she wished herself back in bed, under the covers. “In the face. He grabbed my wrist and held me from behind.”
“Okay, I’m ordering up some X Rays and a CAT scan. Let’s check out the head wound and we’re going to need to reopen it to clean it and stitch it up.” She checked the wound. “Who cleaned it in the first place?”
“I did.” Leroy was still holding her she realized.
Doctor Keller nodded and pursed her lips. “The nurse says it’s probable also that you have a concussion. When did this happen?”
“About six hours ago. I just couldn’t …I needed time.”
“It’s okay.” Doctor Keller smiled and for the first time, Heather relaxed. “You’re going to be okay. Now, I’m going to have the nurse come back in to take some photographs for if you do decide to press charges.” She paused. “Where is your husband now?”
“Up in Lompoc. I drove here after it happened.” Bile was rising in her throat again.
The doctor looked at Leroy and then back to Heather, putting the relationship together. “Okay. A tech is going to come in to take you to X Ray and I’ll be back to talk to you some more, okay?”
“Yeah.”
The doctor walked off, making sure they were left to some sense of privacy and Heather reached for the clean bin the nurse had left behind. Again, she vomited, but this time it was mostly bile that burned her throat and Leroy was there with the wet paper towel and the cup of water. “I’m so sorry about this.”
“You’re lucky I love you too much to be separated from you, because I want to kill the bastard.” He stroked her hair back and pulled out a shard of glass. “When we get home, I’m combing out your hair.”
“He’ll get his due,” she whispered, reaching for him. He stepped closer and she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Anyway, I can’t let you out of my sight right now.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He stroked her hair again and she heard the clink of glass as he tossed it toward the sink. “I’ll even go into X Ray if they’ll let me.”
She let out a shaking breath. “I want to call Jenny but I’m scared she’ll think I asked for it.”
“Give Jenny time.” He kissed her temple. “But I can call if you want.”
“Not sure who she hates more right now. I’ll call her tomorrow. When things aren’t so crazy” She let out a sigh. “God, Leroy, the boys. They were right there.”
“They’re okay.”
“But they know what he did.” She stopped herself from saying ‘their father’ because she wanted them to be able to think of Leroy as a father. Even though Daniel … God. She had to find a way to face Charles again because Daniel needed stability.
The curtain moved again and two young looking techs stood nervously with a gurney. “We’re supposed to take you to radiology.”
“Can I go with her?” Leroy glared at them.
“No, sir. But you can stay right here if you want to.” One of the techs glared at him, clearly believing him capable of hurting her. Heather shifted to the gurney, spreading the thin, scratchy blanket over her legs.
“I’ll be okay, Leroy,” she whispered. “I promise.” But as she was wheeled away, her mind tormented her with images of police showing up to interrogate him. It was clear they all thought he did it.
The CAT scan and X Rays took forever and she was sleepy when they wheeled her back. A nurse waited with a pain killer and she downed it along with the crackers they provided to keep her stomach from rejecting it. By the time the doctor came back in, she was drifting, holding as best she could to Leroy’s hand, listening to him talk softly about nothing she really cared about.
“Well,” the doctor stood at the edge of the bed, talking as much to Leroy as to her. “You have a nasty concussion, two cracked ribs, and your wrist is sprained. We didn’t find any fractures in your skull, so with time, that cut and bruise should heal just fine. We don’t tape ribs anymore, but we do want you to take it easy for the next few weeks. No lifting.” She paused and looked at them with a raised eyebrow and Heather felt herself blush. “No sex until you’re feeling better.”
Leroy looked down and away but Heather just nodded.
“People ask. So I thought I’d cut to the chase. Don’t lift anything heavier than ten pounds, if you get nauseous again or feel any kind of pressure in your head, come right back. Someone will come in to bandage your wrist and we want you back here next week for a follow up. You need to stay awake for the next few hours and should have someone with you for the next twenty four. If you do sleep, you need to wake up every hour.”
“I’ll be there.” Leroy said without hesitation. Heather squeezed his hand.
“I’m giving you a scrip for a pain killer to take as needed. Also, we encourage you to talk to someone.”
Heather nodded. The only therapy she really needed was time in the garage with the bed Leroy was working on but the doctor was sweet, so she listened and took the card she gave her.
“All right, sit tight.” She looked at Leroy, “We’ll have those photographs and X Rays for the file for you.”
“Thank you.”
When they were alone again, Heather looked at him, a sea of tears in her eyes. She couldn’t talk, but she didn’t need to. He just lifted her good hand to his lips and kissed her tenderly. “I love you,” he whispered.
“You too …”
The curtain opened and a new person in a different set of scrubs came in to bandage her wrist. Heather sat quietly while she was worked on and when they were done, Leroy helped her get dressed again. She was back to autopilot and something told her it would be like this for a while.
The drive home was silent, and again, he held her hand. Still shaking but not as badly as before. Caroline was still there and the boys had slept through the three hours they’d been gone. Heather made a point to go into the room and check on them while Leroy said goodnight. James clutched his rabbit. Daniel clutched James.
In the bedroom, Leroy had stacked the pillows for her and he helped her out of her jeans. In the dresser mirror, she caught another glimpse of the impression the shelves had left on her ribs and she sighed. This was not how she had wanted it all to happen.
“Want some sweats?”
“Maybe a pair of your shorts?” He smiled and handed her a set of his old running shorts. They was soft and worn and when she pulled them on she felt better. “Thanks.” She was now wrapped completely in him.
“I can bring the TV up. It isn’t big, but we can watch a movie or something?”
“That sounds good.” She wanted him to make love to her, to erase everything Charles had done, but she was in too much pain. So she let him tuck her in and closed her eyes while he went to get the TV/DV player combo he’d bought. Leroy Gibbs with a TV was something that felt strange to her, but she welcomed the change he was willing to welcome into his life. All for her. For them.
He set it up and handed her the remote control. There had to be something on they could fall asleep to. After shucking his jeans he crawled in next to her and helped her to adjust so she wasn’t in pain. The oxycodone was starting to take effect and she was tired and loopy.
“I’ll wake you up every so often,” he said softly. “You’re safe, Heather. Just rest.”
She smiled softly and rested her head against his shoulder and was asleep before the credits even rolled on the movie.
Completed here.
#4 of 5
Once stretched out in his arms, she knew her injuries warranted a trip to the ER but she just didn’t want to go. She didn’t want a record or questions or hapless interns questioning Leroy like he was the one who had thrown her around the room. But she couldn’t get comfortable and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. At one point, Leroy moved his hand over her side and she cried out, feeling her rib shift. With the adrenaline finally subsiding, she could feel every little thing that was wrong.
“We need to get you to the ER, Heather.” His voice was soft. Tortured. She tightened her hand in his shirt, but her wrist was swelling so badly it hurt to do so.
“What about the boys? I can’t let them wake up in a strange place without me here.”
“We either wake them up and take them or we ask my next door neighbor to keep an eye on them. She’s the one I told you about, the cop. She’ll understand discretion. You can’t go through the night without getting checked out.” He paused. “Heather, you could have more serious injuries we don’t even know about.”
“What about Charles’ career? This is out of character for him. I don’t want to ruin everything for him.” She had to chuckle at herself. Her husband beat her hard enough to break a rib and she was worried about his career. Truthfully, she didn’t want the hassle. She wanted to lie in bed until she felt better.
“You don’t have to press charges. You do have to get looked at, honey.” He moved and she cried again and knew he was right. “Come on. I’ll go talk to Caroline.”
With ginger movements, Heather got out of bed, realizing for the first time she was still in her blood stained clothes. “Can I change into one of your shirts?” He nodded and handed her one of the smaller Marine t-shirts and an old NIS sweatshirt. But she couldn’t pull her shirt over her head and he had to help her.
“Oh, God. Heather.” He knelt down in front of her, his hands moving centimeters over her skin. Never touching but examining. “Oh my God, this … we need to get you in now. I’m gonna kill him.”
“Don’t you dare.” She choked a bit, her hands on his shoulders. “He isn’t worth going to jail for, Leroy.”
“Which is why he’s still breathing.” He did kiss her ribs, a whisper across her skin, before standing up and helping to pull the clothes over her head. She swam in them, but they smelled like him and it helped her head to be wrapped in him.
Nervously, she followed her lover down the stairs, glancing back every step as if the boys would suddenly be awake. Leroy had his keys and shoved his wallet in his pocket and she grabbed her purse, but suddenly couldn’t lift it. He took it from her and ushered her out the door. “I’ll go talk to Caroline, you go climb in the truck.” Suddenly numb, she nodded. Her brain running through all possible issues, including the idea that in the time she’d been gone Charles had found a way to freeze her access to everything including her insurance. Could Leroy even put her on his if they weren’t married? What about money? Her work account and her personal account were her own, but the joint account had money that was hers. Would he freeze that too? Did she even care? She was starting to shiver.
Movement caught her eye and she saw Leroy moving across the drive with a tall brunette. The neighbor cop he’d mentioned. Caroline Chambers was sweet and Heather knew why he was bringing her over, to clarify that there was someone who knew he hadn’t been the one to beat her. It was clear she believed Leroy from the way she didn’t ask any questions other than how she was feeling. It was nice to look at a neighbor and realize she wasn’t a nosy gossip. “They’re scared, Caroline,” Heather heard herself saying. “If they wake up in a strange house and no one is there …”
“I’ll be there. Don’t worry, they’ll be in good hands if they wake up. Kids are incredibly resilient and if they’ve seen you … they’ll be okay knowing you’ve got a doctor looking at you. Go on. I’ll be here.” The sweet tone made Heather start to cry but the tears clogged her up and she couldn’t breathe and she felt like a complete idiot.
Jen would never let herself get caught in a position like this.
Leroy started the truck with a thank you to Caroline. Heather fell silent, staring out the window into oblivion. She could feel his hand over hers, clammy and shaking, and she wanted to reassure him, but her shock had settled in and she could only worry inside her head. The man mainlined caffeine and his hands never shook but he was shaking.
What would Jenny do? Would she have killed Charles if he laid a hand on her? Yes, she would have.
But, she never would have cheated in the first place. She’d have kept everything in perfect pecking order. She’d have married the man who was perfect for her and had her perfect job and her kids would have been stylish and perfect. Jenny never screwed it up; maybe that was why she hadn’t married Jethro. Some other part of her brain told her that none of that had actually happened - other than the job - but her sister could do anything. Everything. Her sister could slay dragons with one hand and politicians with the other. She never would have let herself get trapped in the situation Heather was in. But it was her sister who had told her over and over again that Charles was perfect for her - until of course he’d hit her that first time. Then she never said a word at all about him.
She was so lost in her head that she didn’t notice Leroy pulling into the ER lot and killing the engine. Through her haze, she heard his voice and turned, wincing. “We’re here, babe.” He squeezed her hand. “Your insurance stuff in your wallet?” He asked gently. She looked up at the ER doors, realizing he’d taken her to the civilian hospital even though she qualified to go to the one on base. He was keeping her out of the system as much as he could and she loved him for it. Through her shock she realized her teeth were chattering. She was scared. They’d think he hit her. They’d separate them. She didn’t want to be separated from him.
She was right.
Inside the ER, they’d barely put her name to the triage sheet before a nurse appeared out of nowhere and pulled her into a private room. She glanced over her shoulder and saw every person in the waiting area glaring at Leroy. She wanted to scream that he hadn’t been the one, but her mouth was no longer connected to her brain.
“Is this the first time he’s hit you?” The nurse asked while shining a light in her pupils.
“No.” She stopped herself, trying to think before answering. She couldn’t let them think it had been Leroy. “No. He never has. It’s my …” she stopped herself, still trying to find her words, but they were lost in her brain. “I don’t want to press charges. But the man who brought me in, he wasn’t the one who hit me.”
“You were assaulted, honey.” The nurse was gentle but stern. “And if you’re scared of him, we can make sure you’re protected. Do you have children? Did he hit you in front of them?”
This was why she hadn’t wanted to come in. She didn’t want them questioning Leroy and treading him like some damned suspect. She didn’t want social workers and cops and nurses treating her like she was a piece of broken glass. If that was how they saw her, how would Leroy? Was she damaged to him now? Too weak to handle this? “You aren’t hearing me,” she started to beg. “My soon to be ex husband did this, not the man out in the waiting room. Please, just get him back here. Please.” She could feel the shock turning to panic, the events of the day coming clear. She couldn’t breathe, her eye was almost swollen shut, her wrist was surely broken, and all she wanted was to crawl back into bed and hide. She needed to know Leroy wasn’t going anywhere.
The nurse looked at her for a long moment and then nodded, finally seeming to get it. “Okay. The doctor will be here in a minute.” She handed her a gown. “You need to change into this so we can look at the rest of your injuries, okay?”
“Okay.” Heather stared at the ugly blue and white cotton. She was now, officially, a statistic. Part of the numbers thrown up on the screen whenever people wanted funding for domestic violence cases. The vomit rose up again and this time she couldn’t stop it but luckily, the nurse seemed to know what she was looking for and there was a basin to catch it.
Tears streamed from her eyes as it finally ended. Her ribs hurt more than ever and she still couldn’t breathe and now everything smelled like bile. The nurse handed her a wet paper towel and a cup to wash her mouth out. “Better?” She asked gently.
Actually, it was. Heather nodded. “Thank you.”
“Go ahead and change. I’ll go get the guy who brought you in.”
Left alone, Heather realized she couldn’t even pull her shirt off her hands were shaking so much. So she sat and waited, feeling completely helpless. An age later, Leroy pulled aside the curtain and looked at her, nothing but love and concern in his eyes. She stared up at him. “They think you’re a wife beater.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “I’ll set them straight. You asking for me helped a little.”
She held out the gown. “They want me to change. I can’t even …”
“Yeah. I’ve got it. Here.” His hands were gentle as he reached for the bottom of the shirt, gently tugging it over her head. He stopped when it was free from her hair and for a moment, she remembered the glass. They had to get the glass out of her hair. “Heather,” he suddenly sounded panicked. “Focus on me. Can you do that?” She tried to meet his eyes but was seeing triple and she needed to vomit again.
He moved behind her to release the clasps on her bra and together they pulled the lace from her. He folded it and placed it with her shirt and then helped her into the gown before sitting with her on the gurney. “Thank you.” She leaned against him in the only position she could find comfortable. The tears had finally stopped, but she could feel more coming.
Twice in fifteen years, she thought with a sigh. Not counting the times he grabbed her arms or her hips in the middle of one of his anger filled tantrums. It didn’t count the times he stood over her while his voice dropped to low, dangerous levels or the ways he found to compare her inabilities to his mother’s. It didn’t count the times he lectured and lectured about everything she was doing wrong. Never once, she realized, did he promise to not treat her like his father treated his mother. Instead it was always there in the background, a subtle, constant threat.
The curtain was pulled aside again and a female intern stood there, her head tilted in a way that promised endless patience. Heather wanted to flee. “I’m Doctor Keller,” the woman said with a soft tone that Heather was sure was supposed to put her at ease but all it did was make her skin crawl. “You’re Heather Thomas, correct?”
She nodded, wondering how long it would take for her to drop the Thomas from her name. How long until she got to be Heather Gibbs? When would it be safe? She shivered and looked back at the doctor, remembering the question. Right now she was still legally Heather Thomas and a part of her needed to claim Charles in the moment. He did this to her. This life did this to her. She did this to herself.
“And you are?” The doctor was looking at Leroy like was a cockroach.
“Agent Gibbs, NCIS.”
As he flashed his badge, Heather thanked God for his instincts. His presence as the law enforcement officer who brought her in will help to keep them from calling the local cops. He was too patient, too good at his job to even come across as an abusive spouse. She hoped. Anyway, the names didn’t match.
Why did abusers bring their victims in to hospitals anyway? They had to know they’d be questioned. Focus, Heather, she told herself. Focus.
“Oh.” The doctor nodded. “Do you need photographs or an sae kit?”
“Photographs.” Leroy kept talking like a cop and she let him, just for a minute. He was right. She did need documentation incase the custody case got ugly. She didn’t want to use this against Charles, but if he tried to take Daniel, she would.
“He didn’t rape me,” Heather said softly, again nauseous, realizing just how lucky she’d been. Charles had been in the position to rape her but he hadn’t. “Just this.” Would Leroy still want her if Charles had raped her? Focus, Heather.
The doctor nodded, making some notes. “Okay. Can you tell me what happened?”
She took a breath and pressed the side of her head that didn’t hurt into Leroy’s shoulder. “My husband threw me into a glass shelf. I think I hit my head on the corner. I’m not sure. But I know it shattered. I fell into the supports. My ribs hurt.”
“They’re bruised very badly,” Leroy said, still in cop mode. Heather realized that somehow it was all that was keeping him from finding a way to have Charles arrested for abuse.
“Did he also hit you?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Heather watched Doctor Keller scribble notes and she wished herself back in bed, under the covers. “In the face. He grabbed my wrist and held me from behind.”
“Okay, I’m ordering up some X Rays and a CAT scan. Let’s check out the head wound and we’re going to need to reopen it to clean it and stitch it up.” She checked the wound. “Who cleaned it in the first place?”
“I did.” Leroy was still holding her she realized.
Doctor Keller nodded and pursed her lips. “The nurse says it’s probable also that you have a concussion. When did this happen?”
“About six hours ago. I just couldn’t …I needed time.”
“It’s okay.” Doctor Keller smiled and for the first time, Heather relaxed. “You’re going to be okay. Now, I’m going to have the nurse come back in to take some photographs for if you do decide to press charges.” She paused. “Where is your husband now?”
“Up in Lompoc. I drove here after it happened.” Bile was rising in her throat again.
The doctor looked at Leroy and then back to Heather, putting the relationship together. “Okay. A tech is going to come in to take you to X Ray and I’ll be back to talk to you some more, okay?”
“Yeah.”
The doctor walked off, making sure they were left to some sense of privacy and Heather reached for the clean bin the nurse had left behind. Again, she vomited, but this time it was mostly bile that burned her throat and Leroy was there with the wet paper towel and the cup of water. “I’m so sorry about this.”
“You’re lucky I love you too much to be separated from you, because I want to kill the bastard.” He stroked her hair back and pulled out a shard of glass. “When we get home, I’m combing out your hair.”
“He’ll get his due,” she whispered, reaching for him. He stepped closer and she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Anyway, I can’t let you out of my sight right now.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He stroked her hair again and she heard the clink of glass as he tossed it toward the sink. “I’ll even go into X Ray if they’ll let me.”
She let out a shaking breath. “I want to call Jenny but I’m scared she’ll think I asked for it.”
“Give Jenny time.” He kissed her temple. “But I can call if you want.”
“Not sure who she hates more right now. I’ll call her tomorrow. When things aren’t so crazy” She let out a sigh. “God, Leroy, the boys. They were right there.”
“They’re okay.”
“But they know what he did.” She stopped herself from saying ‘their father’ because she wanted them to be able to think of Leroy as a father. Even though Daniel … God. She had to find a way to face Charles again because Daniel needed stability.
The curtain moved again and two young looking techs stood nervously with a gurney. “We’re supposed to take you to radiology.”
“Can I go with her?” Leroy glared at them.
“No, sir. But you can stay right here if you want to.” One of the techs glared at him, clearly believing him capable of hurting her. Heather shifted to the gurney, spreading the thin, scratchy blanket over her legs.
“I’ll be okay, Leroy,” she whispered. “I promise.” But as she was wheeled away, her mind tormented her with images of police showing up to interrogate him. It was clear they all thought he did it.
The CAT scan and X Rays took forever and she was sleepy when they wheeled her back. A nurse waited with a pain killer and she downed it along with the crackers they provided to keep her stomach from rejecting it. By the time the doctor came back in, she was drifting, holding as best she could to Leroy’s hand, listening to him talk softly about nothing she really cared about.
“Well,” the doctor stood at the edge of the bed, talking as much to Leroy as to her. “You have a nasty concussion, two cracked ribs, and your wrist is sprained. We didn’t find any fractures in your skull, so with time, that cut and bruise should heal just fine. We don’t tape ribs anymore, but we do want you to take it easy for the next few weeks. No lifting.” She paused and looked at them with a raised eyebrow and Heather felt herself blush. “No sex until you’re feeling better.”
Leroy looked down and away but Heather just nodded.
“People ask. So I thought I’d cut to the chase. Don’t lift anything heavier than ten pounds, if you get nauseous again or feel any kind of pressure in your head, come right back. Someone will come in to bandage your wrist and we want you back here next week for a follow up. You need to stay awake for the next few hours and should have someone with you for the next twenty four. If you do sleep, you need to wake up every hour.”
“I’ll be there.” Leroy said without hesitation. Heather squeezed his hand.
“I’m giving you a scrip for a pain killer to take as needed. Also, we encourage you to talk to someone.”
Heather nodded. The only therapy she really needed was time in the garage with the bed Leroy was working on but the doctor was sweet, so she listened and took the card she gave her.
“All right, sit tight.” She looked at Leroy, “We’ll have those photographs and X Rays for the file for you.”
“Thank you.”
When they were alone again, Heather looked at him, a sea of tears in her eyes. She couldn’t talk, but she didn’t need to. He just lifted her good hand to his lips and kissed her tenderly. “I love you,” he whispered.
“You too …”
The curtain opened and a new person in a different set of scrubs came in to bandage her wrist. Heather sat quietly while she was worked on and when they were done, Leroy helped her get dressed again. She was back to autopilot and something told her it would be like this for a while.
The drive home was silent, and again, he held her hand. Still shaking but not as badly as before. Caroline was still there and the boys had slept through the three hours they’d been gone. Heather made a point to go into the room and check on them while Leroy said goodnight. James clutched his rabbit. Daniel clutched James.
In the bedroom, Leroy had stacked the pillows for her and he helped her out of her jeans. In the dresser mirror, she caught another glimpse of the impression the shelves had left on her ribs and she sighed. This was not how she had wanted it all to happen.
“Want some sweats?”
“Maybe a pair of your shorts?” He smiled and handed her a set of his old running shorts. They was soft and worn and when she pulled them on she felt better. “Thanks.” She was now wrapped completely in him.
“I can bring the TV up. It isn’t big, but we can watch a movie or something?”
“That sounds good.” She wanted him to make love to her, to erase everything Charles had done, but she was in too much pain. So she let him tuck her in and closed her eyes while he went to get the TV/DV player combo he’d bought. Leroy Gibbs with a TV was something that felt strange to her, but she welcomed the change he was willing to welcome into his life. All for her. For them.
He set it up and handed her the remote control. There had to be something on they could fall asleep to. After shucking his jeans he crawled in next to her and helped her to adjust so she wasn’t in pain. The oxycodone was starting to take effect and she was tired and loopy.
“I’ll wake you up every so often,” he said softly. “You’re safe, Heather. Just rest.”
She smiled softly and rested her head against his shoulder and was asleep before the credits even rolled on the movie.
Completed here.