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He knew where that would lead and no way was he going to let that happen.
His leg was fucked, but it was his leg and, goddammit, they were not going to take it from him.
It was the only thing he lasted long enough to say between bouts of consciousness.
“Do not take my leg.”
He said it over and over, over and over. The doctors would say We’re doing the best we can, Lieutenant, and he’d say, “Goddammit, do not take my leg!”
Then he’d be gone again.
He lost track of the number of times they operated. Of the drugs they gave him.
Last time, he’d fought the drugs. He’d seen what happened when the drugs took you. Guys in the ward. Guys on the res. Addiction was addiction whether you had it dripped into your arm in a hospital or you shot up on the street, and he wasn’t that going to go that route.
This time…this time, he pressed the button on the PCA hooked into him until they told him he’d used up his allotted dose of happy juice and he’d have to wait to get more.
Really? Then what was the point of a patient controlled analgesic delivery system? he growled, except the words came out a pathetic whisper and all he got for his plea was another visit from an overworked resident who did more poking and prodding until Tanner bit through his lip to keep from screaming.
It was better when he was under.
The pain was gone, sure, but it was more than that.
When he was under, he dreamed.
Of her.
Alessandra.
Alessandra, in his arms. Alessandra, smiling at him across the kitchen table. Alessandra, standing before the mirror, naked, and him coming up behind her, pressing his body against hers, his hands cupping her breasts, his mouth against the nape of her neck, her sweet sigh as she leaned back against him…
“Lieutenant.”
The feel of her. Her softness. Her scent…
“Lieutenant Akecheta. Can you hear me?”
A woman’s voice.
“Alessandra?” Tanner whispered.
A cool hand swept over his forehead.
“He’s burning up,” the voice said.
“Alessandra. Sweetheart…”
“Temp is one-oh-four,” a brisk male voice said. “I want him in surgery. Stat.”
“Sweetheart. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“Hush,” the female voice said. Gentle fingers meshed with his. “You’re going to be fine, Lieutenant. Just fine.”
“I didn’t mean it,” Tanner said, “didn’t mean it. I love you, Alessandra. I love you…”
“Hang on, dude. You hear me? Just hang on.”
Chay’s voice. Chay’s rough hand gripping his.
