Color Blind

Chapter Fifteen

AN: Song for this chapter would Stone Temple Pilots' 'Still Remains'. And what's up with the copy/paste? *sobs* Wattpad, you're always broken anymore! You didn't used to be this way!

* * *

Cole's wrist hadn't healed up one bit by his next appointment. If anything, it had gotten worse. Part of that was his own fault-he'd slept on it by accident and it had swollen up like a balloon. It didn't help that he'd tried to use it to draw.

"Ouch." Nancy said, pointing at his wrist. "That doesn't look good."

He wanted to say, 'It doesn't feel good.' But he didn't. His stomach was doing flip-flops and he didn't want to puke all over her desk. A nod would have to do.

"Are you going to be sick?"

Yes.

He shook his head. Nancy brought him a bucket anyway and handed him a glass of water.

"If you need to throw up, it's okay. We've had worse."

Worse? What could be worse? On second thought, he didn't really want to know. He forced a smile and a nod before slumping over, his head between his knees. God, he felt awful.

It was freezing in here today and he wished he'd worn long sleeves under his sweater. It had been hard enough to get the sweater over his wrist, though. Long sleeves would have been murder.

The peach-pale walls were not a pleasant color and he closed his eyes. He would not be sick. He would not, and that was final.

A soft, cheap-feeling blanket draped itself around his shoulders and he looked up.

"You were shivering." Nancy explained. "That's what these are for. It's a pretty common side effect, actually."

That made him feel a little better, but he wasn't sure if it was a side effect or him being sick.

"Th-thanks, Nance."

Dammit. It was a Y at the end of her name, not an E. She didn't seem to mind, fortunately.

"Sure. You've got about ten minutes."

Great. His chances of throwing up had increased dramatically. He dropped his head again and pulled the blanket closed over his chest. It didn't make him feel much warmer, but it was better than nothing. He certainly wasn't about to give it back.

"N-Nancy?" Don't throw up, don't throw up.

"Yes?"

What had he been going to say? He had no idea.

"Thanks." he said again. She smiled.

"No problem. Deep breaths, it'll help the nausea."

Yeah. That would be good.

* * *

"Same time next week?"

"Yeah."

"How're you feeling?"

"Fine."

He was lying. She could see that much in the way he was trying not to double over.

He was still favoring his wrist. Out of the blue, her lips formed the words, "What's wrong with your wrist?"

Shit! Where had that come from?

"It's nothing."

"Let me see."

Again, where had that come from? Oh, well, there was no backing out now. He'd probably ignore her anyway.

To her surprise and slight dismay, he tugged his sleeve up. His wrist was swollen up rather badly, actually, and if she looked very closely she thought she could see finger-shaped bruises.

"God, what happened?"

Well, she was curious. A perfectly normal reaction.

"I sprained it. Fell."

If she couldn't see the bruises, she wouldn't have  known he was lying. She didn't let on that she did know.

"Stay right there." she said. "I might have...ah! A bandage."

"I don't..."

"It might not fit you very well." she warned. "Arm out. I left it here after I tripped outside. I'm a klutz. But you're skinny, so maybe it'll fit a little."

"I'm okay..."

"It's not going to heal if you don't take care of it."

Why did she care again? Oh, right, because some part of her wanted to be reckless. She would have no one but herself to blame if this turned out badly.

Cole stayed as still as a statue. Nancy managed to wrap his wrist without touching him. She was pretty sure she wasn't imagining the look of relief on his face when she finally finished.

"There we go."

"Th-thanks."

And that was why she cared. That shy smile and the hesitant thank-you that he always gave her when she did something for him. It was like petting a puppy.

"Sure, Cole." she said. "Go home and get some rest."

It was five minutes after he left that she noticed her smile was still on her face. Oh. That was strange. Well, she was allowed to be happy.

* * *

Cole kept his sweater pulled over the wrap on his wrist. He took it off when Sean got home, but after the man went to bed he put it back. It really did help. Sadly, it fit well. Was he really that skinny? God.

He wondered what Nancy would say if he asked her to do something. Coffee or something. Friends did that sort of thing, right? Did she even count as a friend? He would find out, he supposed, next week. He hoped she counted as a friend. He considered her to be a friend, kind of.

He would find out, he supposed. Until then, all he could do was wait and try not to overthink things.

How hard could that be?