He wasn't capable of doing it before, but he's able to do it now. Refusing his pain meds enables him to have better control over his muscle functions, but it also makes everything more painful. Every move hurts. Every stretch hurts. The man winces when he rolls over in bed. It isn't until the very end of the day when the pain is what I can only guess is completely unbearable for ninety-nine percent of everyone else does he ask for something to take the edge off.
He's fighting and working hard despite going about it the wrong way. It’s as if he thinks he can will his body to heal faster if he doesn't use the tools provided that he sees as a crutch.
I guess I should be glad he's not asking for more meds than the hospital staff are willing to give him. Maybe he’s worried about the addiction that sometimes comes along with any type of painful injury and surgery. I have access to his full file through Cerberus but I haven’t looked. I have no idea if he had parents or family members that were addicts. I don’t know if he has an addictive personality or if he struggled with drugs or alcohol in his past. I can easily find that out by going through his file, but it feels like a violation.
I watch him sleep, realizing I’m not being completely honest with myself. Were I tasked to treat anyone else, I would quickly seek out that information. Having the full backstory enables me to help treat them more efficiently, but some part of me wants Aro to tell me those things himself. He’s not going to. He barely tolerates my presence.
Having an actual conversation with the man isn’t anywhere in our near future. It’s clear he doesn’t want me here. He’s no different now, doing his best to avoid conversation with me, than he did back at the clubhouse. I can admit it stings a little bit, more than it probably would with any other member of Cerberus.
Honestly, Aro has always been a two-sided coin for me. On one hand, I need to be the psychologist I was hired to be. I need to make sure that his mental health stays in check. On the other side of that coin, I'm not his team member. I'm a warm-blooded woman that has had a crush on the man almost since day one. We started Cerberus at the same time.
At first glance, I allowed myself to accept how good looking he is, but it was watching him in action that made that crush grow into something more. I have never, nor will I ever, act on it, but it hasn't waned at all, being around him this last week while he recovered from surgery. If anything, it's grown.
I have to remind myself constantly to remain professional. I've done well thus far, finding a happy medium between remaining hopeful that something inside of him will click and he'll be once again the man I know. The man willing to face the world. The man willing to put in the hard work and overcome the challenges he's facing and being the snarky asshole he is.
It wouldn't benefit him to know about my worries, to know that I'm fearful that he'll give up. The doctor in me demands professionalism. The woman inside of me struggles with that.
The pilot comes over the sound system, announcing our imminent landing, and I'm grateful that Aro stirs awake. My body is still warm from having to touch him to help him get settled into the seat. A hospital bed was provided on the flight, but I'm not surprised after dismissing the nurses that he refused to use it. I know he wants to get back to normal as quickly as possible and I want that for him too. Not only so I can witness that rebuild of confidence but also so I can put some much-needed distance between us.
I know I'd never act on this little crush I have for the man, but returning to normal will at least allow me to get back into the right headspace myself.
The landing is easy, no excessive shaking or abrupt bumps. The entire flight has been damn near perfect but Aro still grimaces in pain when he sits up a little bit taller in his seat.
“I’ll pay you a hundred dollars,” Aro says as the plane begins to taxi off the runway. “A hundred dollars if you don't give me shit for asking for help getting out of this chair.”
I shake my head, annoyed that he'd even think that I'd give him a hard time. I manage to keep the smile off my face because I don't want him to realize that he’s already making progress by asking for help. “Make it a hundred and fifty, and you’ve got yourself a deal.” Warmth washes over me when he gives me a small genuine smile. I've seen none since he's been hurt and I realize at the sight of it how much I've missed that from him.