[ It was supposed to be a family vacation -- Chuck managed to get a week or two off, and they were on the road in the beginning of winter. Grand Canyon; that would be a great place to visit, and Raleigh's pretty much nudged Chuck onto that well-deserved break.
It had been an evening like any other, when Raleigh leans over to help Percy settle in for his nap before they reach the hotel; the eighteen-wheeler had come out of nowhere onto Raleigh's side of the vehicle, and it was a mess of breaking glass and screaming metal and an impossible, impossible choice. Raleigh was caught in the wreckage and their son was crying, hurt and bleeding, and the last thing Raleigh remembered was her husband's face and her terror for their son -- "Chuck, Percy's bleeding -- our son -- " and she had pushed him away; he had to extricate their two-year old first, he had to save them at all costs.
And then everything went dark.
She hears snippets of conversation after, words spoken in the quiet when she rests and struggles to open her eyes but she can't, she really can't; and she loses all track of time, the sound of steady beeps a lullaby when the voices are gone, slow soothing words a distant memory. She remembered physiotherapists, quiet words, and she remembers Chuck.
Raleigh wakes at 1:33am on a Wednesday morning two months and three weeks later, disoriented and bleary and so very heavy. She can't move, not really, and it's the weakness that scares her, that it takes so much effort to open her eyes. She tries, monumental effort spent on taking in her surroundings, sterile but warm (a rehab ward, perhaps?) and she manages to press the call bell laid beside her before she very nearly blacks out at the effort.
Tired, she's so tired. Where's Chuck? It feels like she heard him not so long ago, the warmth of his hands; and a part of her aches for him -- how long had she been gone? Did he still remember her?
The nurses come in quickly, before they notify the doctor-on-call, and they spend a little while assessing her, and the flashlight in her eyes makes her wince. The doctor, a pretty young fellow with an earnest look about him apologises and mentions Chuck's name, which snags her drifting attention. It takes effort to focus, and more effort to actually mouth the words. ] Jello.
[ If her husband's coming, he damn well better come armed with that shit. ]
[Two months and three weeks is too long without her. That's what Chuck has come to realize. He needs her in ways that he'd never admit, he misses her smile and her laugh and all the stupid shit she says, misses how it seems like there's no energy around the house now. That when it's just him and Percy and he can barely stand to look at the kid, it's too much and not enough at the same time.
For the first time, Chuck finds himself in his father's shoes and finds that he hates it here, that it's a horrible place to be and his situation isn't even as bad as Herc's was. Where Raleigh is still alive, there's still a chance for her, and his son isn't old enough to blame him for what happened, to really know what's going on except that Mommy isn't around to tuck him in and he cries and cries and cries and Chuck can't do anything but join him.
Herc comes to help out, doesn't even let Chuck finish explaining what happened before he's interrupting to say that he'll be on the first flight out of Sydney. It's still not perfect with them, they still don't like they should but something's changed. And Herc is good with Percy in all the ways that Chuck can't be right now.
It's the middle of the fucking night when he gets the call but it wasn't really like Chuck was sleeping anyway. He breaks every single traffic law possible getting from the house to the hospital, and he doesn't bring her jello because what the fuck, what does that even mean? Whose first word in nearly three months is jello, Raleigh, you're so ridiculous.
She can yell at him all she wants, so long as she's really awake, and Chuck barks at people to move the fuck out of his way and yes-- yes, fuck, she is awake. Those are her beautiful blue eyes looking back at him from his spot in the doorway and he's not crying again, he's not but he does sort of regret not bringing Percy with him right now.
[ Raleigh is... not quite aware of how much time passes before she senses Chuck in the doorway -- there is a flurry of activity that she can barely keep up with, and when she can feel her strength slowly returning to him, it takes a lot of effort to focus her gaze on Chuck's face, familiar and so beloved and she'd missed him and maybe he's not crying but she is.
Not sobbing, but the tears that spill from the edge of her eyes and down the side of her face is obvious enough. She's a mess, and she knows, and she'll get better soon, you'll see -- but Chuck's looking at her in a way she'd never seen before, vulnerable and open and so very gorgeous that she wishes she could reach out to hold him, to take him in her arms again and tell him everything's fine.
He looks tired, she realises. He looks tired and sad and it hurts her heart because she'd never wanted him to be that way; never in her wildest dreams would she have thought of seeing him this way. Her fingers twitch in response to her desire to hold him, fingers involuntarily flexing. Raleigh's not going to yell at him -- she doesn't have the energy to, and all she wants is to have him close, is to hold him again, because they've been apart for too long and there isn't anyone in the world she loves more than him, and their son. ]
Sorry. [ It exhausts her, the effort it takes to form two simple syllables and a world of meaning, and she almost chokes on it, coughing. I love you. I'm sorry, and I love you. ] ...Percy?
[Sorry, she says. Holy shit. Chuck will joke about divorcing her, and looking for his second wife, will endlessly complain that she's got far too much energy to be a normal human, that it bothers him that she won't just let him pay for things, like it's a point of pride for her and maybe he understands that but she's being stupid and ridiculous and he obviously can afford anything and just stop being so stubborn, woman.
He doesn't remember the short walk from the door to her bedside, pulling up a car, right next to her bed and Chuck grabs her hand.]
He's fine. He's at home with my dad. [Chuck has to fight back the urge to do a physical assessment on her, to make her squeezes his fingers and push against his hands with her feet, to find a penlight and look at her pupils and how they react, to see where she stands. You can damn well bet he's got one eye fixed on the monitor with her vitals on it, because that's how he knows how to take care of her.]
[ She's stubborn because she's just built that way, because he's just as stubborn and a giant pain in the ass and she's missed him. She misses their fights and their little moments, the way his smile looks in the early hours of dawn, when he's sleeping beside her and she kisses him awake. She misses the big moments, too, the frown he gets when he's annoyed, that insufferable smirk when he decides to be an asshole, his frustration when she insists on pulling her weight because this is what they are. They're partners, for better or worse, right?
That was the promise they made when she married him right there in that garden, with flowers in her hair and his bitching a not-quite-distant memory.
He comes closer, and she feels more than sees when he takes her hand, his palm so wonderfully warm on hers. His grip is solid, and she wishes she had the strength to just pull him to her. Her vitals are holding steady, but muscle weakness is a tricky one, even with regular sessions with the physiotherapist.
She manages to squeeze his hand very lightly; and the mention of Herc sticks in her head. Chuck, leaving Percy home with his father? More importantly, Chuck had actually let Herc into their home? That's -- wow. It takes Raleigh awhile to talk; forming words is really, really tiring, you know. So is smiling; but she is, just the tiniest bit, it's all she can muster, for now. ]
So were you. [ Because she knows him, she knows what he's like, and he's his father's son. Also apparently comas can't make a sense of humour go away -- although even with that, her eyes are gentle, fond. Oh, Chuck. ]
[A lot's changed since you were out, Raleigh. Chuck and Herc can be on the same continent now and no one comes close to dying. He does regret not bringing Percy with him when he got the call but at the same time, he thinks he needs this. Time when it's just the two of them. Because he needs her. A lot.
Just don't be a bitch about it and gloat, Raleigh.]
That is what I said. He's been here about a month now, actually. Taking care of Percy and stuff.
[Because Chuck tried, and he did okay but it wasn't what the kid needed and apparently skipping a generation makes it easier for Hansen men to deal with losing their women.]
[ Raleigh will gloat, probably a lot later. Or maybe not -- it really depends on how insufferable Chuck decides to be. Right now, however, he's not, not at all. There's the look in his eyes he saves just for her, only this time it's more obvious and he's not prefacing with some snide comment or another.
Which is weird, you know, when you think about it.
Weird, but good. She takes a few more moments than usual to process what he's saying, and she attempts to squeeze his fingers, brief pressure points before they dissipate just as quickly. Herc, taking care of Percy and Chuck letting him? What had the world gone to?
But it's not difficult to put things together, to see the pattern because she's already realising it, and oh, Chuck. Her eyes soften; he needs her, and she knows -- they'd come so close to being separated forever, but she wants to tell him, too, that he's never going to lose her. ]
[She's really not as strong as he would like to see, he can feel it in her fingers when she squeezes his. Perhaps it's acceptable for someone who's just been asleep for eleven weeks but it's not enough for him. Because Raleigh is anything but weak.]
[ Raleigh manages, through massive effort, to shift just a little more, to delicately press dry, chapped lips against the side of his mouth in a tentative kiss.
She's fine, she'll be fine, you'll see. But right now she has a husband to care for, despite the lingering exhaustion. ] ...Love you.
[Raleigh you-- do not need to lay there and take care of him right now. You've got to be absolutely shitting him. Or completely drugged up right now. A tear might squeeze out of the corner of his eye but he won't own up to it.]
Rals. [Chuck leans in further to touch his forehead to hers.]
[ That's because you're a giant idiot, baby. And if she doesn't take care of you, who will? She'd wipe that tear from the corner of his eye if she could, but she's sluggish, and moving seems like an impossible thing.
She squeezes his fingers, with just a little more strength in them now, and she closes her eyes briefly. ] Stay?
[ Three weeks later, and Raleigh is mostly back to being obnoxiously energetic; she'd been particularly determined to regain muscle mass and working through activities of daily living for both her physio and occupational therapy; even the speech therapist had cleared her within the first couple of weeks.
She hated being in the wheelchair, she'd hated the slow progress at first, hated that her husband and son and father-in-law had to see her in the state she was in, but she was lucky to come out of the accident this well when others wouldn't normally have made it.
Chuck had been extraordinarily devoted, patient where she thought he wouldn't be -- his temper still frays, especially when he thinks she's pushing herself too far too quickly -- but she wants to come home. At the very least, a few good things had come out of the accident, right? Herc and Chuck are looking to be repairing their relationship. It's slow, but she's quietly pleased to see that the both of them are making an effort, at least.
Finally, the day comes when she can be discharged, and Raleigh doesn't even spare the wheelchair, the quad stick, or the walking stick a second glance -- she won't be needing any of those anymore, thank you. It's a surreal experience, packing her bag, but she manages well, and thanks the nurses and the attending doctor, as well as apologising for Chuck, too. She knows how the man can get.
[Don't apologize for him, Raleigh what the fuck. He works with these people, they know him and they know that they had to be extra on their toes when it came to his wife if they didn't want to be yelled at by one of the cardiologists.
Things are okay with him and his dad. Herc's at home with Percy now, because it's just easier to move things around when there isn't a toddler gumming up the works. And Chuck wants to get Raleigh out of there nearly as fast as she wants to leave herself. He wants her to be ready and safe but even he would agree that she is, but she's not going to push herself at home and go back to full speed today or so help him, he's taking the kid and leaving her.
He's actually checking on one of his patients while she's packing up, just a quick check in to adjust a med and then he's coming around the counter for her.]
[ Raleigh was actually there when Chuck did the yelling, you know. It was one of those nights with a young doctor on duty, and there was a mix-up with her prescribed dosage which, unfortunately, Chuck had been present for. The viciousness and ferocity with which Chuck had torn into him was breathtaking, and Raleigh had felt bad for it.
After that, she realised, it was the medical rehabilitation specialist that attended to her personally, and honestly, Chuck.
Still, she's slinging her duffel over her shoulder - giving him a brief smile when she notices what he's doing. Temper aside, he's the best damn cardiologist in the country. ]
You sure you don't have to go back to work today? You don't have to keep me company.
[Some yelling is good for the new doctors. How are they going to learn to be more careful if they aren't scared shitless. Either they can take it or they can't but they are definitely not fucking up his wife's meds if they want to live.]
I'm sure.
[Chuck reaches for her bag, let him carry it woman or so help him.]
Someone has to make sure you don't push it too much.
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[ It was supposed to be a family vacation -- Chuck managed to get a week or two off, and they were on the road in the beginning of winter. Grand Canyon; that would be a great place to visit, and Raleigh's pretty much nudged Chuck onto that well-deserved break.
It had been an evening like any other, when Raleigh leans over to help Percy settle in for his nap before they reach the hotel; the eighteen-wheeler had come out of nowhere onto Raleigh's side of the vehicle, and it was a mess of breaking glass and screaming metal and an impossible, impossible choice. Raleigh was caught in the wreckage and their son was crying, hurt and bleeding, and the last thing Raleigh remembered was her husband's face and her terror for their son -- "Chuck, Percy's bleeding -- our son -- " and she had pushed him away; he had to extricate their two-year old first, he had to save them at all costs.
And then everything went dark.
She hears snippets of conversation after, words spoken in the quiet when she rests and struggles to open her eyes but she can't, she really can't; and she loses all track of time, the sound of steady beeps a lullaby when the voices are gone, slow soothing words a distant memory. She remembered physiotherapists, quiet words, and she remembers Chuck.
Raleigh wakes at 1:33am on a Wednesday morning two months and three weeks later, disoriented and bleary and so very heavy. She can't move, not really, and it's the weakness that scares her, that it takes so much effort to open her eyes. She tries, monumental effort spent on taking in her surroundings, sterile but warm (a rehab ward, perhaps?) and she manages to press the call bell laid beside her before she very nearly blacks out at the effort.
Tired, she's so tired. Where's Chuck? It feels like she heard him not so long ago, the warmth of his hands; and a part of her aches for him -- how long had she been gone? Did he still remember her?
The nurses come in quickly, before they notify the doctor-on-call, and they spend a little while assessing her, and the flashlight in her eyes makes her wince. The doctor, a pretty young fellow with an earnest look about him apologises and mentions Chuck's name, which snags her drifting attention. It takes effort to focus, and more effort to actually mouth the words. ] Jello.
[ If her husband's coming, he damn well better come armed with that shit. ]
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For the first time, Chuck finds himself in his father's shoes and finds that he hates it here, that it's a horrible place to be and his situation isn't even as bad as Herc's was. Where Raleigh is still alive, there's still a chance for her, and his son isn't old enough to blame him for what happened, to really know what's going on except that Mommy isn't around to tuck him in and he cries and cries and cries and Chuck can't do anything but join him.
Herc comes to help out, doesn't even let Chuck finish explaining what happened before he's interrupting to say that he'll be on the first flight out of Sydney. It's still not perfect with them, they still don't like they should but something's changed. And Herc is good with Percy in all the ways that Chuck can't be right now.
It's the middle of the fucking night when he gets the call but it wasn't really like Chuck was sleeping anyway. He breaks every single traffic law possible getting from the house to the hospital, and he doesn't bring her jello because what the fuck, what does that even mean? Whose first word in nearly three months is jello, Raleigh, you're so ridiculous.
She can yell at him all she wants, so long as she's really awake, and Chuck barks at people to move the fuck out of his way and yes-- yes, fuck, she is awake. Those are her beautiful blue eyes looking back at him from his spot in the doorway and he's not crying again, he's not but he does sort of regret not bringing Percy with him right now.
He'll call Herc and make him come in.]
Shit, Raleigh, don't you-- ever do this again.
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Not sobbing, but the tears that spill from the edge of her eyes and down the side of her face is obvious enough. She's a mess, and she knows, and she'll get better soon, you'll see -- but Chuck's looking at her in a way she'd never seen before, vulnerable and open and so very gorgeous that she wishes she could reach out to hold him, to take him in her arms again and tell him everything's fine.
He looks tired, she realises. He looks tired and sad and it hurts her heart because she'd never wanted him to be that way; never in her wildest dreams would she have thought of seeing him this way. Her fingers twitch in response to her desire to hold him, fingers involuntarily flexing. Raleigh's not going to yell at him -- she doesn't have the energy to, and all she wants is to have him close, is to hold him again, because they've been apart for too long and there isn't anyone in the world she loves more than him, and their son. ]
Sorry. [ It exhausts her, the effort it takes to form two simple syllables and a world of meaning, and she almost chokes on it, coughing. I love you. I'm sorry, and I love you. ] ...Percy?
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He doesn't remember the short walk from the door to her bedside, pulling up a car, right next to her bed and Chuck grabs her hand.]
He's fine. He's at home with my dad. [Chuck has to fight back the urge to do a physical assessment on her, to make her squeezes his fingers and push against his hands with her feet, to find a penlight and look at her pupils and how they react, to see where she stands. You can damn well bet he's got one eye fixed on the monitor with her vitals on it, because that's how he knows how to take care of her.]
He's been a real brat without you too.
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That was the promise they made when she married him right there in that garden, with flowers in her hair and his bitching a not-quite-distant memory.
He comes closer, and she feels more than sees when he takes her hand, his palm so wonderfully warm on hers. His grip is solid, and she wishes she had the strength to just pull him to her. Her vitals are holding steady, but muscle weakness is a tricky one, even with regular sessions with the physiotherapist.
She manages to squeeze his hand very lightly; and the mention of Herc sticks in her head. Chuck, leaving Percy home with his father? More importantly, Chuck had actually let Herc into their home? That's -- wow. It takes Raleigh awhile to talk; forming words is really, really tiring, you know. So is smiling; but she is, just the tiniest bit, it's all she can muster, for now. ]
So were you. [ Because she knows him, she knows what he's like, and he's his father's son. Also apparently comas can't make a sense of humour go away -- although even with that, her eyes are gentle, fond. Oh, Chuck. ]
Herc...?
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Just don't be a bitch about it and gloat, Raleigh.]
That is what I said. He's been here about a month now, actually. Taking care of Percy and stuff.
[Because Chuck tried, and he did okay but it wasn't what the kid needed and apparently skipping a generation makes it easier for Hansen men to deal with losing their women.]
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Which is weird, you know, when you think about it.
Weird, but good. She takes a few more moments than usual to process what he's saying, and she attempts to squeeze his fingers, brief pressure points before they dissipate just as quickly. Herc, taking care of Percy and Chuck letting him? What had the world gone to?
But it's not difficult to put things together, to see the pattern because she's already realising it, and oh, Chuck. Her eyes soften; he needs her, and she knows -- they'd come so close to being separated forever, but she wants to tell him, too, that he's never going to lose her. ]
...Come closer.
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Why?
[Asked even as he leans in towards her.]
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She's fine, she'll be fine, you'll see. But right now she has a husband to care for, despite the lingering exhaustion. ] ...Love you.
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Rals. [Chuck leans in further to touch his forehead to hers.]
You should rest.
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She squeezes his fingers, with just a little more strength in them now, and she closes her eyes briefly. ] Stay?
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[When it's a normal hour, he'll call his dad and have him come bring Percy in for her. Until then, Chuck kisses her cheek before he straightens.]
Someone's gotta keep you in line.
TIMESKIP
She hated being in the wheelchair, she'd hated the slow progress at first, hated that her husband and son and father-in-law had to see her in the state she was in, but she was lucky to come out of the accident this well when others wouldn't normally have made it.
Chuck had been extraordinarily devoted, patient where she thought he wouldn't be -- his temper still frays, especially when he thinks she's pushing herself too far too quickly -- but she wants to come home. At the very least, a few good things had come out of the accident, right? Herc and Chuck are looking to be repairing their relationship. It's slow, but she's quietly pleased to see that the both of them are making an effort, at least.
Finally, the day comes when she can be discharged, and Raleigh doesn't even spare the wheelchair, the quad stick, or the walking stick a second glance -- she won't be needing any of those anymore, thank you. It's a surreal experience, packing her bag, but she manages well, and thanks the nurses and the attending doctor, as well as apologising for Chuck, too. She knows how the man can get.
Now, where had Chuck gone off to? ]
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Things are okay with him and his dad. Herc's at home with Percy now, because it's just easier to move things around when there isn't a toddler gumming up the works. And Chuck wants to get Raleigh out of there nearly as fast as she wants to leave herself. He wants her to be ready and safe but even he would agree that she is, but she's not going to push herself at home and go back to full speed today or so help him, he's taking the kid and leaving her.
He's actually checking on one of his patients while she's packing up, just a quick check in to adjust a med and then he's coming around the counter for her.]
Ready?
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After that, she realised, it was the medical rehabilitation specialist that attended to her personally, and honestly, Chuck.
Still, she's slinging her duffel over her shoulder - giving him a brief smile when she notices what he's doing. Temper aside, he's the best damn cardiologist in the country. ]
You sure you don't have to go back to work today? You don't have to keep me company.
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I'm sure.
[Chuck reaches for her bag, let him carry it woman or so help him.]
Someone has to make sure you don't push it too much.