Like it Was Before

Before anyone can react, or respond to my inane statement, a doctor wearing immaculate scrubs and hospital booties enters the room, bringing all activity and free breathing to a standstill.
"Mrs. Grimes, you can see him now. But only for a few moments, we don't-" he could end his sentence a countless number of ways but I'm thinking he's going to finish up with "tire Rick out" which is ridiculous. Rick is in a coma.
Lori rakes her hands through her hair, sending it standing up in uneven peaks and spikes, looking from Carl to me and back again, hesitating. I can take a hint-she wants to see Rick alone, take a moment to catch her breath.
"You go. Go. I'll keep an eye on Carl,"
She visibly deflates and thanks me on her way out of the door, tossing it over her shoulder as an afterthought before she's gone, the Doc trailing after her.
"You're Uncle Shane's girlfriend?" My smile almost plays out at this-Uncle Shane, that's cute.
"I am. I hear you're his wing man?"
Carl looks at me from the corners of his eyes, but he's clearly delighted at the comparison, which is great except now we're stalled for conversation. I could ask him about school but what kid in their right mind wants to talk about school?
So I fish a dollar out of my purse, sliding it over to him on the sly, nodding towards the vending machine.
"Don't tell your mom."

xx

Lori returns from her visit looking more tired than ever and gives Carl a sharp look once she spots the bag of potato chips open on his lap but doesn't say anything. No one says anything.
Things have lapsed back into an awkward silence interspersed with the sound of a crinkling Dorito's bag, something I barely notice over my thoughts screaming at me that I am out of my league.
Clearly, I do not belong here. I stand, stammering something about going down to the cafeteria and grabbing some coffee...and Lori's face lights up, stinging me, until I hear the familiar voice behind me. "Thought you could use some dinner." Shane.
I whirl around taking him in, bags of greasy burgers in one hand and a pair of skinny jeans in the other, mine that had been left at his house ages ago, the ones with the hole in the knee and paint splatters. The raggedy old things that loves for me to wear.
"And some fresh clothes," he adds, catching my eye, almost smiling. Shane also has an old Atlanta Falcons shirt of his that he passes over with the jeans while Carl greedily grabs for the burgers dumping the contents onto a low-slung end table placed in the center of the room and diving into a cheeseburger, completely heedless of any germs that may be thriving on the surface of said table.
No one can eat like a pre-pubescent boy can eat.
Lori looks amused and Shane looks a world better now that he's washed off the dirt and blood from this hellish day and has put on civilian clothing. I hug him to me before I can think any better of it winding one hand around his neck feeling his still-damp hair brush my fingers.
Shane surprises me (and probably Lori, but I can't see her) by wrapping both of his arms around my waist in turn, holding onto me fiercely before the two of us let go. "You okay?"
He dips his head in a single nod which will have to do for now, and I squeeze his arm comfortingly before taking off for the bathroom down the hall. Immediately, I strip my dress off over my head, stuffing it into a trashcan (it will never be clean again, even if the stains come out), and I pull on his dumb NFL tee, the one that smells like him.
Later, Shane will thank me for holding down the fort, and eating burgers in a hospital waiting room but truthfully I'm rapidly coming to realize that I would do just about anything for him.

xx

"Well, Savannah Jane, your night's about to get even longer."
Shane informs me once we've said our goodbye's hours later and climbed into an empty elevator cab. 'I doubt it', I think but don't say.
"Why's that, baby?" The corners of Shane's mouth are twitching quite obviously but he's valiantly trying to hide this by rubbing his mouth and not meeting my eyes. This ought to be good.
"That idiot Leon Basset accidentally had your car towed. 'S at the impound lot."
I stand there staring at him uncomprehendingly as the elevator car jerks to a halt with a tired sounding ding the door sliding open to reveal an even more tired RN, who climbs on, keeping me from screaming.
"How do you 'accidentally' tow a car?"
I ask once I've regained (some of) my composure although my voice still carries a very distinctive whimper. I love my car. Not fanatically, but I do. Shane just shrugs unhelpfully while I seethe and fantasize about choking Leon out with Shane's jumper cables.
"How much is this going to cost me?" I sigh, and Shane looks down at me, surprised.
"How'dyou mean?"
"To bust my car out. How much is it-"Shane snorts at my naivety.
"Not a dime, sweetheart. We'll have it out by morning. Advantage of dating a cop."
"Advantage, my ass," I mutter and Shane pats mine possessively as we reach the ground floor, leaving the RN behind who looks intrigued by our conversation. I pretend I don't notice this and exit the elevator, dragging Shane and his grabby-hands right along with me.
"C'mon," he offers, sounding exhausted. "I'll drive you home."
Huh. I hadn't even considered how I would be getting home without a car.
Thank God Shane had such foresight.

xx

True to his word, Shane does take me home.
To my driveway, to be precise and I kiss him goodbye gently, my hand to his cheek while he grips the steering wheel of his old cruiser tightly.
I don't bother to ask if he's okay-of course he isn't. "Call me in the morning, okay?"
I ask as I stifle a jaw-cracking yawn and pull the passenger door open.
Quick as a flash Shane reaches out across my abdomen, catching my hand on the lever before I'm able to get it open more than a few inches. Honestly, I'm surprised at the movement-I'd have thought a crobar necessary to pry his hands from that wheel.
I glance over inquisitively and Shane speaks just one word, but it's one that freezes me down to the bone.
"Stay." He is plaintive, earnest, miserable. The love of my life.
"Let me stay," Shane elaborates, "I don't want to sleep alone, Savannah. Not tonight."
I kiss him again, this time more fiercely, waking him up a little. Then I push my car door back into its 'open' position. "You don't have to."
Shane visibly relaxes, killing the engine and opening his door looking entirely too world-weary to be mistaken for a Cop, now or ever.
"C'mon," I sigh, digging my keys out of my bag. "Let's get you inside."
We don't bother with the lights, TV or answering machine, Shane trudging behind me, just head straight for the bedroom where I strip him in an asexual way I would have deemed impossible just that morning.
"Thank you, Savannah." Shane sighs into my mouth, kissing me before diving under my covers and taking me with him. "I mean it-"
I reach up in the dark, place my hand over his mouth with unerring accuracy. "Shut up, Shane. Go to sleep."

xx

Me, I'm asleep within moments, drifting off with no problem, too tired for even the day replaying in my mind on a loop to keep me awake. Shane, however exhausted he may be, can't quite get there, waking me as he tosses and turns.
He manages a few false starts, drifting off just enough that even in my sleep I feel his hard body relax and then almost immediately jerk back awake. After the second or third time this happens I give up on trying to hold him and just mutter 'I love you' sleepily, trying for reassuring.
It's close to 3 AM, hours after we'd arrived home when Shane's lack of presence in my bed brings me fully awake and treading through my house barefoot and worried. I find him in my kitchen wearing a pair of boxers with an open bottle of Pepto-Bismal on the table next to his right hand. I want to blame the cheeseburgers, but logically, I know better-Shane is quite literally worrying himself sick. That's it. I think. That's enough. "I can't take another second of this."
I blurt out loud, surprising the both of us as my voice cracks.
"You need sleep. We both do. C'mon."
I grab his hand and he follows me back to bed, docile, without protest.
It's time to take matters in my own hands I've decided, quite literally. Before I can second guess myself I'm pushing him back on the bed and straddling him, clutching and stroking until he's hard and his breath catches as he flips us over, placing me on my back. I'd worried that this wasn't the right thing to do, that he'd get up and leave, but I was out of things to try.
Thankfully, it works, the first time Shane slides into me being mindless and quick before he regained his tenderness and took his time for the second go-round, the both of us shaking together in the dark.
"I love you." Shane breathes, barely rolling off of me onto his side once we're through, and then he's out like a light.
And this time, when I doze off, I sleep soundly.