R5 Imagines

Riker Imagine - Taryn *ankle injury*

I hobbled into my house and allowed my boyfriend, Riker, to lead me to the couch in the living room.  I had recently had surgery on my ankle – something to do with some sort of muscle or ligament that I stupidly pulled.  I'm not sure on all of the specifics because none of the doctors seemed to be able to use words that I could actually understand.  All I know is that my ankle really hurts and I can't walk on it for several weeks.

First I have bed-rest and then eventually I'll be able to walk around more, only with crutches though, and supposedly I'll be back up and walking around like normal by the end of the month!  However the doctor said that all depends on how well my ankle will heal, meaning that there's a possibility that this surgery may not even work.

I have always been clumsy and tripped walking up and down stairs countless times.  Of course one of those times while walking down the stairs I decide to slip and twist my ankle at a terrible angle.  All I remember was a soft popping sound and a whole hell of a lot of pain.  Luckily for me my mom was home so she was able to help me to the hospital.  This eventually led me to where I am today, on this couch, with my ankle propped up on a bunch of pillows. 

"What else can I get you, Taryn?" Riker asks as he places my phone and the TV remote within arm's reach. 

"Nothing for now, I guess," I respond.  "Actually, can I take my pain medication yet?" I ask as another wave of pain washes over me from my tingling foot. 

Riker checks the time displayed on the clock on the TV set.  "Not yet, the doctor said you can take it two hours after you were discharged from the hospital.  You still have about forty-five minutes."

"Who came up with that stupid rule anyway?" I mutter. 

"It's not stupid – they're just watching out for you.  The pain medication is to be taken every six hours so just fight through it a little bit longer," the blond boy tells me. 

 "That was a rhetorical question," I sigh. 

 "Here, how about I distract you for a while?" Riker asks, disappearing to grab something from his car parked out in the driveway.  When he returns he's carrying his guitar case.  I smile as he unbuckles the silver locks and pulls out his acoustic guitar. 

After tuning it he begins to strum the guitar and hum softly.  Then he starts signing my favorite song.  He continues to play as I just watch him until suddenly when I open my eyes again it's quiet and Riker is nowhere to be seen.  I look around, slightly disoriented, and realize that it's grown dark outside. 

"Hey, sleepyhead," Riker says from behind me.  I crane my neck to try and spot him but it's a bit harder than I expected since my ankle has to remain stationary. 

 "I fell asleep on you?  I'm sorry!" I apologize, not even realizing that I was tired earlier.

"I don't mind.  You were out for a few hours and it gave me enough time to make you a delicious dinner."  It's at that moment that I smell something wonderful wafting through the air.

"What is it?" I question, picking up a hint of tomatoes. 

"You'll have to wait and see!  It should be done in a few minutes," he says before heading into the kitchen again to check on the meal.  "Oh, and your mom called saying she got held up at the office and will try to make it home as soon as possible," Riker yells from the other room. 

 "Of course she is," I mumble.  I know how important her job is right now, especially with her in the race for that big promotion but you would think on the day her daughter is returning home from the hospital she'd at least try to be here for me. 

A couple minutes later Riker walks in with two steaming plates of cheesy lasagna.  "Oh this looks amazing!" I exclaim as I prop myself up on the couch and have a tray table placed over my lap. 

We dig in and the hot Italian dish tastes amazing!  "A bit better than the hospital food, huh?" Riker laughs as I shove forkful after forkful into my mouth.

"What do you think?" I respond while taking another bite.  After dinner, Riker and I spend the rest of the night just watching TV until I eventually doze off again.

                                                                                ____

A week later, I'm up and attempting to keep my balance as I struggle to use the crutches around the house.  Once I had gotten the hang of it without losing my balance or tiring out after three steps, Riker encourages me to get out of the house with him, even if it were only to go to the park at the end of my street. 

It takes me a while, but we finally reach one of the benches that line the small pond on the edge of the park.  I rest my metal crutches against the side of the bench and stick my injured ankle out a bit, propping my foot up on the back of its heel, not wanting to bend my ankle in any direction.

"Ahhh, it feels so nice to be outside again," I sigh as I stretch my arms out and bask in the hot sun and feel the breeze tug at a few tendrils of hair that have escaped my ponytail. 

"I could tell you were going crazy in there," Riker wraps a supporting arm around my shoulder. 

"You can say that again!  One can only live on a couch or in their bed for so long."  I look out at the kids running past me, chasing after their dog that doesn't seem to want to return the tennis ball clamped firmly in his mouth.  "I never thought I'd be jealous of people running," I laugh. 

"Well Taryn, I promise, as soon as the doctor says it's okay, we'll go for a jog," Riker tells me. 

"Yeah, sounds like a plan," I smile at my boyfriend.  "A plan which we both know will never actually happen," I add.      

                                                                                         ___

At the end of the month, just like scheduled, I went into the doctor's office with Riker to hopefully hear the best news I've heard for a while. 

"Good news, Taryn!  Your ankle has healed properly and you are all set to ditch the crutches!  But still take it easy.  You haven't put much, if any pressure on that ankle in quite some time so it still may be weak until you get those muscles loosened and working again.  The last thing you want is to be back here so try your best to be careful," the doctor says. 

"I will!  Thank you so much!" I say, slowly hopping off the examining table, placing my right foot firmly on the ground and then easing my left foot down until it rests flatly against the hard linoleum floor.  As I take a step, I realize exactly what the doctor meant as I wince in pain. 

Wrapping an arm around my waist, Riker leads me out to the car as I walk at a snail's pace.  After I struggle to climb up into the passenger seat of the car I lean my head back and sigh loudly out of frustration. 

"Don't worry, the worst part is over," Riker reassures me.  "I'm sure we'll have you up and moving around like normal at the end of the week."

Sure enough, he was right.  By Saturday morning, I was able to swing my legs out of bed and walk down the hall to the kitchen with ease.  Although I still don't walk very fast, I can put pressure on my ankle again without feeling any pain.  Like I do every morning, as I sit down at the table with a bowl of cereal, I spin and rotate my foot, going back and forth, and smile at the fact that this also no longer results in pain. 

Just as promised, an hour later Riker shows up at my door telling me he has a surprise for me.  I let him lead me out to the driveway with my eyes squeezed shut and only open them when directed to. 

"I know our plan was to go for a run when you were ready, but I figured you'd like this better," he says as he gestures to the two bikes waiting to be ridden. 

"You know, you're the best boyfriend ever!" I say, leaning in for a kiss.  "Thank you so much for how amazing you've been during all this.  You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

"Anything for my girl," Riker says, kissing me one last time before we ride off.