Richard barely slept. A combination of the pain down his left side and the discomfort of being away from his own bed. He sat there, propped up on a pile of pillows, going between closing his eyes, playing with the television, and reading through the paper for the second or third time. Nurses came and checked in around every hour, just opening the door and giving him a sympathetic look as they noticed he was still awake. He was offered painkillers on multiple occasions, but as long as he stayed still, the pain wasn't really a problem. The most inconvenient thing by far was going to the bathroom. His hip hurt so much he had to really work himself up to leaving the bed. Each time he moved his back, his ribs throbbed, adding to the pain as he hobbled into the small ensuite. The only silver-lining was that he still had his dominant hand.

At least the anti-inflammatory pills were working, which was mostly fine until he was hit by a dizzy spell. A nurse checked him over when she noticed how he was lying there holding a hand over his eyes, but rather than being from the head injury, they found it was down to his lack of appetite. He hadn't eaten since before the accident. At dinner, he'd barely picked at the food on his tray. With that in mind, the nurse had gone to fetch him a banana from somewhere and insisted that when breakfast came around, he had to eat the lot. The high dose of Ibuprofen would burn through the lining of his stomach otherwise.

It was while he was half-heartedly nibbling on his breakfast, soggy scrambled eggs with limp bacon and a sorry-looking sausage with a pudding for dessert, that Hank arrived. It wasn't exactly visiting time, but things were a little more lax in the private ward and Richard was hoping to be discharged anyway. They certainly didn't mention keeping him longer than one night. Hank seemed a little breathless as he entered, blue eyes softening in relief as he found him looking relatively unharmed. Flutters filled Richard's stomach as Hank hurried over to the bed and wasted no time in sealing his lips. Much as he wanted to grab his shirt, his left arm throbbed at the mere thought of moving, making Hank draw back with an apology.

"Shit, are you alright? Allen said you were pretty beat up in the fall." It wasn't that bad! His open-mouthed look must have said as much. Hank carefully settled on the edge of his bed, staying on the right so he didn't jostle his injuries.

"I'm alright...Just a few minor fractures." Hank was less than reassured by the news, which prompted Richard to point out it could have been far worse. That seemed to have the opposite effect. I'm really not good at this...That's what he had Allen for! Where was Allen in all this? He'd expected it to be Allen who came to get him. We are sort of...dating though. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised that it was Hank who'd come for him. "Hopefully, I'll be discharged soon." Despite promising to eat his breakfast, it wasn't going well.

"You're supposed to eat it, not play with it," Hank teased, though he could understand his reluctance. It was hospital food, and it looked sloppy and unappealing, but he still needed to eat. "Come here..." Richard balked as Hank took the fork and lifted the knife to cut up his food. It was sort of mortifying to think he couldn't cut his own food. He could have, though it would have taken a lot longer. What was worse was that once Hank had finished cutting, he scooped up some egg and raised it to his lips. "Open." Richard's cheeks heated as he obeyed, accepting the tasteless gloop in his mouth. His face must have said it all as he chewed and swallowed.

"I can manage..." Hank held the fork out of reach as Richard reached for it.

"Yeah, you probably can." After engaging in a silent battle of wills, which Richard lost with a sigh, Hank scooped a second mouthful, along with a bit of bacon. The bacon, poor as it was, made the egg a little more palatable. "Attaboy." Richard balked again at the praise, half-glaring as Hank fed him a piece of sausage. It was unfair of him to say that word when he knew what it did to him. At least, he was pretty sure he knew.

"It's good to see you finally eating!" Richard vaguely wished the bed would open up and swallow him as that bright voice rang in the doorway. It was the same nurse who'd made him promise to eat the night before, and who had been back three times since breakfast to see if he'd fulfilled that promise. Hank greeted her kindly as she crossed to the bed and looked over the charts, listening intently as she told him about his dizzy spell the night before and how he hadn't touched a bite all evening. That was a rotten lie! He'd taken a few bites!

"Don't you worry. I'll make sure he's well fed when he gets home." What am I? An animal? Richard clicked his tongue in reproach, grudgingly accepting the next fork of eggs as Hank smirked. The nurse, who was really far too cheerful after such a long shift, beamed at the news.

"I can take care of myself!" The nurse and Hank shared a look at that. Clearly, neither of them believed him. Richard glared, only remembering not to fold his arms because of the throb in his shoulder. The nurse seemed to pick up on his annoyance, likely thinking they'd hurt his feelings as she returned the chart to the end of the bed and straightened his pillows.

"Of course you can, but it'll be a lot harder with that arm. You should accept all the help you can get. It's not every day you have people fawning over you." True as that was, Richard really wasn't the fawning type. The smirk Hank sent him suggested otherwise. He knew he liked the attention. He just wasn't the type to go hunting for it, which was why he was the one holding the fork. Richard clicked his tongue at the smug look, still grudgingly opening his mouth to accept the next fork of egg. "You really will need it. Things like getting changed, cooking, and cleaning will be a lot more challenging for the next few weeks." This wasn't his first injury, so he knew that already. It had been a long time since he'd had a fall this bad though, and he was a little younger the last time.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of him." Something in the gruffness of Hank's voice sent prickles across the back of Richard's neck, and the twitch of his lips as he looked across at him didn't help either. He could almost feel his cheeks darkening as the nurse left, assuring him the doctor would be along to start the discharge process soon. Eating seemed a lot easier after that. The faster he ate, the faster he could get the hell out of there. Hank insisted on feeding him everything, especially the pudding. "How are you planning to hold the pot while you're scooping, hm?" Richard was pretty sure he could bend his fingers and hold the pot in his left hand, but it seemed such logic was lost on Hank as he peeled the lid off and scooped a spoonful of white looking jelly.

Of the whole sorry breakfast, the pudding was the best part. After the tasteless, rubbery gloop and stringy bacon, almost anything would be an improvement. The pudding was at least sweet, though it didn't really taste of much. There wasn't much more to it. He'd survived the night with nothing worse than a slight dizzy spell, so the doctor had no problem with him being discharged. After a thorough nagging about not moving his shoulder unless he had to and doing the regular elbow exercises, as well as a reminder about not doing any strenuous activity, he was allowed to leave. All he needed was a prescription of anti-inflammatory pills and optional painkillers, and he was good to go.

He was allowed to walk out of his own volition this time, for which he was grateful. He didn't think he could stomach it if Hank pushed him out in a wheelchair. Walking was a little uncomfortable, and much as he tried to hide it, Hank could tell he was in a certain amount of pain. His steps were a little uneven as he tried not to limp, lips thinning in discomfort as they crossed the parking lot. Once they were at the truck, Hank opened the door and helped him up with a hand on his bruised hip. It hurt, but better his hip than his arm. Once he was sitting, he didn't even have a chance to reach for his seatbelt before Hank had climbed up and grabbed it for him.

"Thanks, but I-"

"Could have managed, sure." Hank smirked as he drew back, leaving a placating kiss on Richard's temple as he hopped down and shut the door. Richard shrank in his seat somewhat, doing his best to seem unaffected as Hank reappeared in the driver's seat. "You'd better get used to me helping out. You're not lifting a finger for the next few weeks." That sounded like hell on Earth to Richard. He hated being idle. He knew he couldn't ride, but surely there was something else he could do! The horror must have shown on his face as Hank chuckled and pulled out of the parking lot. "Don't worry, Allen said he'd bring a few things to help me keep you entertained." Great, now he had two mother hens. God help me...

At first, he thought it was his imagination, but as the streets rolled by, Richard was pretty sure Hank was deliberately driving a lot slower than usual. He could have sped up. The roads were pretty smooth this close to the city, but it seemed he was being especially careful not to jostle him too much. He also made an unexpected stop at a drive through to get a proper meal, grumbling about the slop they'd fed him at the hospital. Richard would have pointed out that there was probably more nutrition in the hospital food than the burger and fries Hank ordered, but the smell of fast food through the window Hank rolled down actually smelled pretty good.

They didn't wait to get home to eat. The food would be cold by the time they got there, and it was better eaten fresh. Stopping in the car park, Hank unwrapped Richard's burger and passed it over before finding his own. The fries were placed on the dash, along with their drinks. Richard hummed as he ate. It had been a while since he'd had fast food like this. They lived pretty far outside the city, and he rarely visited since Allen brought him anything he wanted or needed. Hank had similar thoughts, not being a fan of the city. Obviously, it was nowhere near as good as Rose's food, but it certainly hit the spot.

With that done, and the trash thrown out, he drove the rest of the way home. It was a little rough along the dirt road leading to their houses, but he did his best to make it smooth. Richard knew he did too, so he thinned his lips and gritted his teeth, accepting the painful jolts and rocks in silence. He wasn't one for complaining, especially not when it couldn't be helped. Once he pulled up at Richard's house, Hank hopped down and hurried around to open the door and lift him down with as much care as possible. It was a little painful, especially when his arm touched his chest, but it went mostly without incident.

"Come on, I'll get you settled for a while." Richard could hardly turn down an offer like that, especially when Hank was giving him that soft eyed look. As they walked up to the house, Hank's hand settled in the small of his back, gently guiding him and making sure he didn't trip. Richard sighed in relief as they stepped inside. It was good to be home. What he really wanted was a cup of tea, but he was steered right past the kitchen and through to the staircase. "Come on, time to get you into some proper clothes." He was in proper clothes! Allen had ensured he had some normal clothes to change into the night before, having returned to check in and take his riding clothes home.

It seemed what Hank meant by proper clothes was pyjamas. There was a set laid out for him on the bed, complete with fresh boxers. Mortifying though it was, Hank wouldn't accept no for an answer as he helped him change. Large hands stroked and teased his waist as he unfastened his jeans and pushed them down, along with his old boxers. Blue eyes winced as he took in the dark patches up and down legs, especially on the left. It was especially bad over his hip and upper thigh. Though he insisted it wasn't as bad as it looked, Hank had seen his constant wincing and knew that was a lie. He was as gentle as possible as he pulled up the new pants and loose bottoms before moving on to the shirt.

That was the most difficult item. He had to undress Richard while making sure he didn't move his shoulder. Luckily, it was a shirt, so it could slide over his arm despite him having to keep his shoulder still. That didn't mean it didn't hurt like a bitch. Hank suggested they use that time to do his elbow exercises, which Richard grudgingly agreed to. He winced and whimpered periodically, mostly relying on Hank to move the joint for him. It really hurt. There were tears in his eyes by the time he slid the shirt on and tugged it over his shoulder. Taking a few breaths, Richard pushed down the lingering pain and followed Hank's guiding hands to the bed.

Having not slept well the night before, he wasn't about to pass up a good nap. Hank huffed fondly at the relieved sigh that fled his lips as he settled against the pillows and closed his eyes. He was home, in his own bed. No nurses coming to bother him, no machinery humming by his bed, and no echoing halls. His home. Peace and quiet, unbroken by anything except the clucking of chickens and the neighing of horses. He opened his eyes as the bed dipped and Hank ran a hand through his hair.

"I'll leave your medicine here...Do you want a cup of tea?" Maybe Hank had noticed the direction of his gaze on the way in, or maybe he wanted one himself. Either way, Richard nodded and settled the sling across his chest. Closing his eyes, he focused on the sound of clucking chickens, wondering if they'd noticed him missing the day before. How was Nines doing? Were the two recently healed hens doing well with the rest of the flock? His eyes snapped open at the sound of excited barking. He could only guess Hank had stepped out to check on Sumo and Connor in the yard. He'd been at the hospital all morning, so they were probably worried.

Hearing his garage door creak open, Richard shuffled his way out of bed with a series of winces and grunts. As he hobbled to the open window and looked down, he could see Hank walking across with a bucket of feed. He stopped at the large pen first, swinging the door open to a flurry of flapping feathers and excited clucks. It was like they hadn't been fed for a week as they hopped and skittered around Hank's feet. Shooing them off, he tipped the feed in their trough and scattered a few handfuls across the dry earth for them to peck at. In the next pen, he opened the crate and lifted Nines to check him over. Richard smiled as he watched, leaning his good arm on the windowsill to prop himself up.

It was a fine day. A little cloudy, but warm. The breeze caressed his pale cheeks and ruffled his hair as he leaned on the sill. Looking to the left, he could see Hank's sheep in the distance, and a few horses in his own paddock at the end of his yard. He missed being out there already, but Hank was right in saying he needed some rest. Maybe in a day or two, when his hip wasn't so tender, he could head out there and check on everything. The silence was suddenly broken by more excited barking, and when Richard looked down, he could see Connor looking up at him, hopping on his hind legs and turning circles. His mouth was open, tongue lolling happily as he wagged his fluffy tail. You know, he's really not that scary from this distance.

"Hey! I thought I told you to lie down!" Hank called as he put Nines down and refilled his bowl. Richard balked at the reminder, but pushed it aside as he straightened up.

"How's Nines doing?" Hank's eyes thinned as he ignored his former complaint, but he relented with a sigh.

"Getting better every day. The puncture wounds have closed, and the scratch on his leg is pretty much healed...It's just a case of waiting for the sling to be removed now." That sounded good, and Nines seemed happy enough as he pecked the earth along the mesh that separated him from his flock. It was nice to know he wasn't lonely anymore. Shutting him up in that crate for hours on end had seemed cruel, but with the other two hens back with the flock, he had the whole place to himself. "Now get back to bed!" Richard relented with a huff, hobbling his way across the room and climbing into bed once more. It wasn't much longer until Hank arrived with his tea set and a small plate of biscuits.

"You weren't joking when you said you'd keep me well fed," Richard huffed as he lifted the cup and saucer. Hank chortled his agreement as he made sure the pot and plate were within arm's reach on the bedside table. He was thoughtful in a way that made Richard's stomach flutter as he fluffed his pillows, put two biscuits on the saucer resting on his stomach, and cleaned up the discarded clothes from earlier. He still had the rounds on his own farm to complete, but he didn't want to leave without making sure Richard had everything he needed.

"Do you want anything? I could bring the TV up for you if you want to watch something?" Richard shook his head. He wasn't really the television type, and rarely watched for anything besides the news or weather. Being trapped in bed with nothing to do would probably grind his gears after a while though. There was only so long one could appreciate the silence and the same four walls.

"Maybe my book; the one on the small table by my chair, or today's paper if you have it. I like to do the crosswords." That was easy enough. As if anticipating Richard's needs, Allen had already dropped off the paper that morning when he arrived early to clear the fields. Hank fetched both the paper and the book and left them on the bed so Richard could grab them. Before getting into reading of any sort, it seemed he was set to take a nap as he settled into the pillows. Murmuring a quiet thank you, Richard closed his eyes. The teapot would keep his tea warm for a short while, so he might have another cup in a few minutes. With a brush of whiskers on his temple, Hank left, clicking the door shut behind him.