| Subject: The Outside Operative 21 (now that I got a new car - maybe I'll be able to write more) |
Author:
Nikita507
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: Saturday, August 10, 08:01:42pm
In reply to:
Nikita507
's message, "The Outside Operative 19+" on Saturday, August 03, 05:05:34pm
“Today, I want to try to get you to stand up out of bed,” Dr. Carle spoke as she placed the tablet down on the foot of the bed and smiled at Nikita. But she didn’t see a smile on Nikita’s face. “This is a good step.”
“Shouldn’t I be off the jello and toast diet first?” Nikita inquired and Michael cleared his throat from the other side of the bed. Nikita looked at him and sighed. “It isn’t rude. That’s what my diet is.”
“We are going to try to add some oatmeal today,” Marlow calmly replied and Nikita leaned heavily back as she looked back the doctor. “Or you are saying that and hoping that I take a nap and wake up with no memory of you being here.”
“That’s why we have the book, Kita,” Michael pointed to the paper journal that was on the table. “It has been helping.”
“Yeah,” Nikita rolled her eyes. “I get to read the story of my life… what I’m not allowed to eat and what I have forgotten. I look forward to the day that I read in there that I’ve been allowed to eat chocolate chip cookies.”
Michael felt the muscle along his spine, just out of the reach of his arm, spasm with Nikita’s words. He knew that this was all chafing on Nikita, particular when she did wake up and remember most things.
“Or maybe I can get rid of some of the tubes first? Don’t think I don’t wake up and know… and how about a shower?” Nikita continued to snap as she was more aware of things now and starting to take action and not being lost in the haze of inaction, although she didn’t have the ongoing strength to continue this. But she could talk and she used her words as strong weapons.
“Nikita, we are trying to get you out of bed. Until you can successfully get to the bathroom with some assistance, we have to take measures,” Marlow tried to explain, not for the first time. The woman had patience. Michael’s was waning right now. Michael knew that Nikita forgot things but she was being petulant at this time and he didn’t like it. Everyone was trying to help her – and she was pushing them away.
“That’s what a bedpan is for,” Nikita rolled her eyes.
“We had that removed from the room when you tried to throw it at the therapist who was just trying to keep what little muscle tone that you have up,” Michael softly spoke as he looked at the sheet on Nikita’s bed. He slowly lifted his eyes to look at Nikita. “You didn’t hit her. It fell well short because you don’t have the strength you thought you did.”
Nikita glared at Michael as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not going to try then.”
Michael felt his entire back spasm with pain as he wanted to scream. He nodded his head and didn’t look at anyone in the room as he silently stood up and left the room. He felt like he was suffocating and he needed space. He walked down the hallway and then made a move towards a wall and stopped short of punching it.
“You need a break, Michael. You don’t need to be in there all the time,” Walter spoke as he leaned his back against the wall, not far from where Michael would have smashed the drywall, and probably would have broken his hand. “You never showed me this side of you about Sugar – not to the extreme of almost doing something stupid. But you were very careful in hiding how protective you were of her.”
Michael took a deep breath. He could think of many examples of how he was protective of Nikita, but Walter didn’t know about them, because it happened while she was dead to Section One. There was the instructor while Nikita was in school that had made obscene offers to her, for no reason, which had to be encouraged to leave the profession. There had been Chernov. And even Gray Wellman when he unfortunately crossed paths with Nikita about two months before she got injured.
“Hell, we knew not to push the buttons… no one did after she was cancelled,” Walter choked as he knew that Nikita was cancelled in Section One’s mind, but she had gotten out. “Ah… but Jurgen… he used her name against you a lot.”
Michael had always wondered about that. Most people didn’t mention Nikita unless they needed an operative that would have been easily described by just putting the name Nikita as the descriptive word of the talents that Madeline and Operations never saw in Nikita. Some would say it was not mentioned to Michael because he was the trainer of Nikita. That made it easier, but Jurgen mentioned her a bit too often.
“He trained me,” Michael dryly spoke as he stared at the spot on the wall and then forced himself to take a deep breath. “Is it possible that Nikita may remember events… but not the emotions behind those events?”
“Hell,” Walter muttered as he shook his head and then stopped. “Hell… Michael… I guess anything is possible. Nikita is probably the only one who knows.”
“And I’m supposed to ask her? Something that she might not remember answering the next time she wakes up?” Michael retorted, knowing that he sounded more like Nikita did just minutes ago than himself. “Or she is just reciting what she has read.”
“You think she is faking remembering?”
Michael shrugged his shoulders as he finally looked at Walter. “She is pushing me away… she wants something but she isn’t talking about it. You don’t know how we… we had changed with each other… we weren’t like that.”
“And she is really hurt,” Walter reminded Michael. “I may not know how she was in the past several years when you spent personal time with her… but I remember her while she was in Section… and during her training and while she was an operative… she hated medical… I can’t believe she became a nurse.”
Michael felt his back twinge with a lightning bolt of pain that he tried to hide from as he turned to lean against the wall. He felt guilt for that career choice because as time had passed while he was waiting for Nikita to get better, he got to play things back in his head and he realized that a nurse wasn’t what Nikita wanted to be. It was the best strategic career to have so she could help out. It couldn’t have been what she wanted.
“And while she was a kid… no one cared for her… so, this is probably like a prison to her… maybe even a bit like Section One,” Walter continued as he saw that Michael was in pain. “That’s why I wanted to get her in the wheelchair and take her outside… just for a few minutes… to show her that she is out…”
“She said no,” Michael snapped as he leaned his head back. “And I had tried that before.”
“She is afraid to ask for things that she wants.”
“She wants chocolate chip cookies. And a shower.”
“And why haven’t you given her any of that?”
“Dr. Carle…”
“Dr. Carle is a doctor. She worries about the body. Who is worrying about the heart and soul?” Walter shrugged his shoulders lightly as he pushed away from the wall. “Of course, I would suggest you get some rest… maybe some muscle relaxers for that knot in your back… before you try to sweep her off of her bed and into the shower…. Can’t have my Sugar’s Superman dropping her because he is too stubborn to take care of himself.”
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 
