AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Ya'll still out there?  Sorry about the delay, I was cockblocking myself over technicalities... lol So, without further ado. . .

SHERRY:

I smile, somehow mustering the energy to lift my head and look at him. He grins, licks his lips, and then pulls his forearm across his face to wipe it clean of my juices. He is so sexy. And cute. And fucking wonderful.

The need to cuddle him overwhelms me, and I scramble off the cart with some assistance from Harry. Soon enough, I tuck into his side and his lips are on mine.

SHERRY

Monday morning, Harry receives medical transport to the hospital for his follow-up appointment. He should be getting a new set of x-rays, an MRI to check soft tissue, and hopefully the cast will come off his arm. Mr. Twist rides in the ambulance with Harry, and I follow in the car, giving myself a good twenty minutes to obsess about shit on the way there. Not even a venti Starbucks and the top secret Milli Vanilli cd I keep hidden in the bottom of my backpack are able to keep me from worrying about Harry.

During the near six weeks since Harry's been home, Liam's been working with him to prevent muscle atrophy and hopefully speed up his recovery. Since the doctors couldn't get clear images of his spine the first go-round, therapy has been specific. This way, if there are any hidden injuries lurking, they aren't worsened accidentally.

Because Harry can't exercise on his own, he's been receiving passive therapy, where Liam lifts and moves Harry's legs to keep muscles flexible and the loss of muscle mass to a minimum.  He's also receiving massage therapy and wearing circulation leg wraps to prevent blood clots from forming while he's stuck in bed.

At first, Liam did most of these things during the day because of Harry's tender ego, leaving my "duties" to include things like:  companionship, fro-yo provider, snuggler, etc. Despite a couple of bumps in the road (like when Harry tried to fire me and the time he looked at my nudes – that fucker), we've been able to settle into a comfort zone where I'm allowed to do some tasks that previously Harry didn't want me anywhere near.

Our crushes have solidified into coupledom, with him asking me to be his girlfriend right before diving into the pussy buffet.  As if the timing of the question wasn't enough to kill me –the timing of his tongue, fingers, and sheer eagerness to please during oral sex were easily capable of rendering me six-foot under.  Do the Boy Scouts give badges for pussy eating? They should, because this boy deserves one. I'm willing to bet he watched a lot of porn while he was dating Paige, because she certainly wasn't forthcoming with affection, physical or otherwise. I also suspect she had something to do with Harry's accident since she dropped English Literature right after it happened, but that could just be coincidence.

Once at the hospital, I park the car and speed-walk to the intake department to meet up with Harry and his dad. I feel a little iffy about coming along, but Harry's been insistent. I want to support him, but I'm a worrier about shit like this. What if I'm intruding on family business? What if Harry gets bad news and doesn't take it well? Am I equipped to handle this? What if his mother or Paige were to show up? I am perfectly fine with going all-out Texas on some bitches, but I really hope things go off without a hitch for Harry's sake.

When I get to the intake area, Mr. Twist tells me an orderly has already taken Harry to the imaging department.

"Why don't you run along and keep Harry company, and I'll be up after getting all his paperwork sorted?"

I weave my way through a web of corridors for a solid ten minutes before finally pulling back the curtain to Harry's "room" in the semi-private waiting area with a whoosh.

Harry looks up expectantly and a smile washes over his handsome face. "There you are," his lips move slowly, and I'm entranced by them as always. He's already in a hospital gown, his t-shirt neatly draped over a nearby chair.

"And I only got lost once." I laugh it off, crossing the room to him. "We should have put your hair up." I reach out to tuck some of his wildness behind his ear, but he intervenes, grabbing my hand, his strong, lean fingers wrapping around mine.

"Later," he speaks lowly, pulling me in for a kiss. His lips nibble mine for only a moment before his tongue swipes across the crevice between them. God, this boy makes me weak. The beginnings of a kiss and I can already feel the vaginal drip. Fuck me.

There's another swift swoosh of the curtain, and Mr. Twist's voice, "There'll be plenty of time for that later, kids."

Harry chuckles at the blush on my face when I pull away.

"I apologize, Mr. Twist," I say, clearing my throat and fumbling in my purse for a hair-tie.

"Sherry. If you don't start addressing me as Robin, I am going to dock your pay," he jokes.

I manage to locate a hair tie and busy myself with Harry's hair while he banters with his dad. When I'm done, I sit on the edge of his bed, grab the remote, and flick the television on at a low volume.

Over the next hour and a half, the three of us amuse ourselves with chat and television, and I make a run to the hospital cafeteria for coffees for myself and Mr. Twist. The nurse checks in a couple of times, once just to get Harry's blood pressure and general information. The second time she pokes and prods at different areas on his feet and legs to see if he feels anything. There are areas where he has some sensation to touch, but he still doesn't move his legs or feet on his own. Liam and I have both been checking this at home as well, with similar results.

Around lunchtime, the doctor comes to check in and give us a recap of Harry's medical condition.

"When we took the initial set of x-rays, there were no breaks or displacement of bone visible. No vertebrae were dislodged, nothing was severed. You did have a shock to your spinal cord which caused a good amount of swelling and prevented us from seeing the complete picture at the time," the doctor spoke.

"If nothing was broken, how come he hasn't been able to walk? It's been weeks," Robin asks.

Harry absentmindedly plays with my fingers, squeezing them now and again, his gaze zeroed in on the doctor. Harry is definitely one of those still-waters-run-deep kind of people. He appears quiet at times but he's very introspective, and soaks shit up better than a Bounty paper towel. He files everything away somewhere beneath those unruly curls.

The doctor takes a breath before responding to Robin. "That's the thing.  Spinal shock on its own is enough to cause temporary paralysis. The swelling it creates can put pressure on nerves and prevent full functionality. Now that we've had time for the swelling to go down, the images we get today will tell us exactly what we're working with. And we'll x-ray your arm as well to make sure the cast is ready to come off."

Heads nod all around the room, but everyone's quiet, letting the information soak in.

"I'll go home after the x-rays today, right?" Harry asks the doctor.

"That depends on what we find. If there's something that needs attention, say – we see something in there that we couldn't see before – then we'll keep you here and try to get it taken care of. After your images are taken, I review them, and I'll be back by later to discuss everything."

There's a few more questions, but the doctor can't really answer anything at this point, until he sees the updated x-rays and MRI. We thank him, and he's out of there pretty quick to attend to other patients.

No sooner than I turn my attention back to Harry, than I hear the clickity-click of high heels and a dramatic swoosh of the curtain, causing all eyes to turn.

"Did I miss anything?"