i can't stop remembering...

i have my doubts

"We aren't doing it, Edwin!" I yell at him for the fiftieth time. "It's over with and it's not what Nick wants."

"Do you know how much money you guys could get from this?" He asks. "They almost killed him because they thought they were right with their scans. They were so wrong and they almost unplugged him."

"Nick doesn't want to mess with it," I say as I put my laundry into the basket. "Just leave it alone. I don't understand why you're so worried about it."

"Maybe because they almost took everything away from you. From all of us. If he wouldn't have moved his hand in that exact moment then he wouldn't be here right now! That's bullshit and they should be sued for not having their equipment up to date."

"It's not my decision," I calmly say. I shut the dryer door and I walk out of the laundry room with my clothes.

I start to walk up the stairs with my laundry and I hear him say, "You'll regret it when it happens to someone else. When someone else is in the situation you were in. When someone else's lover gets ripped away because their machines are ass."

I stop on the stair case and I look over at him for a second. He shrugs his shoulders and then walks away, so I can't see him anymore.

Edwin, Nick and, I have been bickering for a few days on weather we should sue the hospital or not. Nick's doctor told us that their CT scan was actually broken and read everything wrong. They were so close to killing him when in reality he was fine.

Nick doesn't want to mess with it though. His doctor said they were going to fix it, but Edwin is scared that they won't fix it. He's scared it'll happen to other people just like us.

I don't know how I feel about it. I'm in the middle of everything. I see where Edwin comes from, but at the same time I have to respect what Nick wants.

Which is to leave it all alone.

I start to walk up the stairs again and I go to Nick's room. He is laying down, watching tv. He can't do much because of his broken bones and he's still in a lot of pain.

"Hi, ma," he says.

I smile. "Hi, baby. Watcha watching?"

"Criminal minds," he says. I put the basket of clothes down on the other side of the bed and I start to fold them. He sits up and reaches over, "Let me help."

I chuckle, "With what arm?"

"I can do it with one," he says confidently.

"Sure," I say.

He grabs one of my shirts from the basket and starts to fold it. He lays it down on the bed and folds over the sleeves one by one. As he is doing this I start laughing at him because he is struggling so much.

"Stop laughing at me," he says.

"I can't help it," I say. "You are really riding the struggle bus right now."

"Yea, yea," he says. He grabs the shirt and throws it back in the basket since he can't fold it, "I can't wait to get these things off of me."

"Couple more weeks," I say.

He lays back on his pillow and sighs, "I really hate this."

"I know you do," I say. "But you didn't die and that's all that matters. We should be grateful for that."

"I am," he says. "I'm so grateful that I didn't die. Do you know how terrible it would have been if I left you here?"

"You didn't though," I say. I fold my last shirt and I put it away super fast. I put my basket on the ground and then I crawl into bed with him. I lay down next to him and I lightly lay my head on his stomach.