Resistance To Assistance

A Li'l Checkup Before Breakfast Is Served

After the group of mismatched individuals had managed to calm me down, they had called Rhodes and Choi about Reese's misconduct, or whatever they called it, and the pair had, instead of joining us, returned to Gaffney to bring it to Goodwin's attention.

Maggie had taken charge of the situation quite soon after that. She felt guilty as she had been the one to ask for Dr. Reese's assistance with keeping me calm. She kept on muttering about how she should have cancelled Dr. Charles' holiday as soon as I was brought in.

She had Severide move me to the large low coffee table, which stood in the gap of the L-shaped sofa. The others moved the sofa away. Then Will had started to look over my injuries so thoroughly that I felt embarrassed with all the people in the room.

The stitches were removed from my face, but more were applied to the fresh wound in my neck. My right shoulder had almost disappeared under kinesiology tape, and both the wrist brace and sling had been replaced with sturdier upgrades. I still wasn't able to have a cast due to the fact that the stitches in my wrists had torn and pulled during my most recent frantic outbursts. They couldn't risk the chance of infection that came with being unable to cleanse and rewrap them. The stitches on my left hand were also renewed. My fingers were soon splinted, once again using sturdier materials in hopes that my mindless fear wouldn't be able to bend them if I happened to have another PTSD which seemed more than likely. A compression wrap was placed around my ribcage, which actually made them hurt less almost immediately. It was quite pleasant, although it was slightly uncomfortable. Ointment had been applied to both my new and old bruises, supposedly to help them heal faster, but it just made the skin in those areas tingle the way that my leg did.

They poked and prodded my right shin and calf to see what I could and couldn't feel. It was a strange but not painful experience. I could feel an increase in the tingles wherever there was pressure, but I was unable to tell what they had touched me with or if it had hurt or not. It was strange to think that if I hadn't been watching what they were doing, I would have assumed I'd imagined it. They tested my reflexes several times and were pleased with the fact that they were unaffected by the strange tingling numbness. It was decided between Maggie and Will that I had suffered extreme nerve damage due to the force of my attackers' kicks, and it was unclear how long the damage would continue to affect me.

"Okay, now that's over and done with," Trudy rushed over to help me stand, she tucked me under her arm and led me to the kitchen again at a pace so slow that we almost weren't moving at all. A leather armchair had been pulled through from the living space for me to sit in and one of several small homemade side tables had been set beside it which already had a plate with three gigantic waffles and a steaming mug of what looked to be milk. "I've made you some extra big waffles," she helped me sit down and then stood in front of me. Her hands cupped my cheeks to keep my attention. "Because you deserve them. And a mug of warm honeyed milk. Now that we're aware that you've had drugs administered, I want to be sure that you aren't consuming anything that may react to it."

"You don't mean - " horror gripped me. I could feel the colour drain from my face as my mouth dropped open, and my eyes widened.

"No coffee." Voight moved to look at me over Platt's shoulder with a very scary look in his eye. "No soda, no energy drinks, nothing caffeinated."

"What the fuck? Are you serious?" I was incredulous. They could not seriously believe that I was going to go any length of time without caffeine.

"Like a heart attack." Platt responded sarcastically as she dragged a stool over to sit by my left side, her own plate holding a single, smaller, waffle and her mug filled with coffee, the scent of which made my stomach yearn.

"We're gonna be watching you closely, kid. You aren't sneaking it past us. It's for your health." Voight added as he pulled his stool up on my right side with his plate of waffles and mug of coffee. I tore a small section off the first waffles on my plate and stuffed it in my mouth as I tried to prevent my frustrated tears from spilling onto my face. I didn't need to look any more like a child in front of these people who were already prone to babying me.