Don't Whistle Past the Graveyard

Ch. Eight

Shane didn't complain, but I knew it really hurt when he started holding his breath. I got the boot off, then his sock and wasn't thrilled by what I found.

It could have been worse though. I mean, it can always be worse, you know?

The ankle was already starting to swell and it was red, but hadn't automatically turned purple, which was good. I lightly pressed along the ligaments running up the outside of his foot and ankle, and sighed in relief when it felt like it was still intact.

Looking up at Shane, I said, "It's possible that there might be a partial tear, but that's manageable. I'm gonna wrap it up, then you're gonna sit there with some ice on it. You're going to have to stay off of it as much as possible."

Shane made a face at my tone and my instructions, but nodded as I dug through the basket again, coming up with some gauze wrap and athletic tape. I wrapped his ankle, then asked, "Too tight or not tight enough?"

He wiggled his toes and said, "It's fine. Ankle feels better already." I rolled my eyes as he smiled at me and said, "Thanks Doc."

Eventually, I smiled back, then got up to put the med stuff back and get some ice. I opened the medicine cabinet and stopped, grinning at what I found there. I grabbed the two prescription bottles, and wanted to dance when I saw a handful of pills rattling around in each.

I stuffed them into the hoodie pocket, then fixed an ice pack and a glass of water. Going back, I handed him the water, then put a pillow under his foot so that I could rest the ice against the outside of his ankle.

I held up the pills, grinning. "Look at what I found."

Shane wasn't as thrilled as I was. He frowned at the pills and said, "I'm not taking those. I don't need them. It's not that bad. We should save those for when we really need them."

I rolled my eyes once again. "At least take the Meloxicam. You don't have to take the Tramadol, but if we can head off the swelling we should." I went back to the medicine and put away the heavy painkiller and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol.

I held the pill bottles out to him and said, "Take these instead."

Shane still wasn't cooperating though, so I put one tablet of each in my palm and stared at him as sternly as I could manage. "Either you take these like a good patient, or I'll make you."

Shane looked up at me, an eyebrow raising in faint amusement, but finally held out his hand with a heavy sigh. He tossed the pills into his mouth, then washed them down with the water before frowning up at me. "There. Ya happy?"

I smiled at him. "Yes. Thank you. And when your ankle doesn't swell up like a grapefruit, you'll be thanking me too." Shane looked at me skeptically, which I ignored, before saying, "You need to eat something with those. What do you want?"

Shane sat up and said, "I can get it."

He tried to stand and I stopped him, placing my hands on his chest to push him back down. "You don't listen too good," I said. "You need to stay off your ankle. If you don't tell me what you want, then you'll get what you get." I pulled back when I realized my hands were still on his chest. Crossing my arms, I asked, "Aren't Marines supposed to be good at following orders?"

Shane looked up, a smile playing around his mouth. Seeming genuinely entertained, he raised an eyebrow and said, "So you're givin' orders now?"

I turned, blushing for some reason. "When it comes to stuff like this, you bet I am, buddy."

As I walked over to the kitchen, Shane sighed in defeat and said, "Fine. In the cabinet next to the fridge there's a jar of peanut butter. Just make me a peanut butter sandwich." I turned back to him and he cleared his throat, tacking on a, "Please."

I turned back around, getting the peanut butter, a smile fighting its way up.

You know, that's definitely what I miss the most. If you ever find peanut butter, that's a sure fire way to get me to actually think about maybe liking you.

Just so you're aware.

When I came back to Shane with the sandwich, I saw the woman's body again, and wasn't smiling anymore. I sat on the coffee table, handing him the food. "Where did Kyle go?"

I looked around, but Kyle was no where to be seen in the small apartment, and I was suddenly worried when I realized I didn't know where he was.

I still hate that actually. I'd always been a little bit of a control freak and hate it with a passion when anyone leaves and I'm not going with them. That's one thing I've really been working on. Struggling with actually.

I don't like the fact that I know I'm never totally in control.

Shane licked some of the peanut butter off of his index finger and shrugged. "He's around. I think he might be seeing if we're actually alone here, or if there's anyone else in the building."

I stood up then, going to the door. "By himself! Why did you let him go?"

Shane looked over the back of the couch with a wry amusement. "'Cause I'm supposed to stay off my ankle."

I crossed my arms. "Not funny, Shane! He shouldn't be going out by himself!"

Shane sighed, then waved me back over so that I was standing in front of him. Obviously trying to quell his irritation, he said, "I didn't stop him because one, I'm not his mother. Two, he's a big boy who can take care of himself and three, because if he wasn't doing it, I would be."

"Why?" I asked, trying to keep a handle on my own irritation.

Generally speaking, Shane and I don't really disagree. This situation was sort of an anomaly in case you were curious.

That's why I think it is hilarious when anyone from your group comes to me, asking me to disagree with Shane. Really, it gives me a pretty good laugh. But I would like it if they would stop.

Shane spoke around a bite of his sandwich. "Because it's better to risk a little bit now and know, instead of sitting blind and getting a surprise when we have no other option."

I pursed my lips, but couldn't argue with his logic.

This is something that's useful and infuriating all at the same time. Seriously, you try arguing with him sometime. Not fun. But his logic is also why we've done okay through all of this.

Shane sighed and said, "Look. He's got a gun that he knows how to use. He's got military training and ice water in his veins. The building is most likely empty and he might find something useful." He shrugged again. "I don't like him going by himself either. But according to you, I can't go, which I would prefer, so you and I are both just going to have to suck it up and deal with it."

This is actually my unofficial first rule. Learn to suck it up and deal with it.

I promise. We'll get to some actual, official rules soon enough. But this is important to keep in mind.

So suck it up and deal with it.

I closed my eyes for a moment, still not loving this arrangement, but I didn't have an argument to combat it with, so I just spun around on the table. "Why don't we check the news?" I asked, readjusting the ice on his ankle.

I thought I heard a quiet snort from Shane, but didn't turn around.

When he turned the TV on, all we got was static.

I told you it happened fast.