Chenford: You Are Not Worth It (Even For Donuts)

Code Pink: Missing Donuts

Tim POV

The doctor waited until she left to shut the door.

Tim grimaced, "I'm guessing this is really bad if you needed to get her to leave."

"Something like that. So, you're all stitched up. Recovery is going to be a lengthier process, not like your last time. While I understand from what I have heard, that you are not going to be happy with that, I need you to listen because any further agitation to the treated area could only set you back further."

He nodded, "And?"

The doctor sighed, "Though it doesn't make much difference now, there were complications during your surgery. You flatlined, twice."

So. He had died. Twice. Peachy. Screw that, it felt like a blow to the gut, knowing how close he had been to not coming back.

"You're lucky to be alive," the doctor's voice reentered his auditory perception, "and as long as you take it easy, you'll be on a good road to being put back on the job. But by taking it easy, I mean doing nothing. Don't leave home, don't leave your bed if you have to, do you understand me?"

"Yes," he replied, trying to hide the agitation in his tone.

He sighed, clearly not buying it. "Okay. Oh, one more thing that I want you to know. This bullet pierced relatively close to an old wound. As you know, scar tissue already makes the area more tender and susceptible. I really have no idea how to impress upon you how crucial it is for your recovery that you literally do nothing until I say it's okay. That means I will be incredibly thorough at every assessment. You will not get away with anything, trust me. Your body will never lie. If you so much as do the dishes, I will know. And if you have the audacity to drive here, or anywhere for that matter, I will have you put on house arrest."

Tim chuckled but could tell under the humor that his doctor meant every word.

"Okay," he said.

The door swung open. "You were right doc," flowed her sweet voice, "The coffee was incredible and they did have pastries! I have never in all my too-close-together hospital visits ever been treated to this quality of food. Oh, Tim, I brought you coffee too! Didn't want you to miss out. I also brought..." she trailed off as she set down his coffee, fumbling with a box.

"Lucy," he deadpanned, "did you smuggle an entire box of donuts from the cafeteria?"

"Um... maybe," she said with exaggerated innocence, "but consider it your prize for not dying. Also, I'm sure the good doctor won't tell on me," she looked at the man inquisitively.

He chuckled, "As long as you share, I'll keep my lips sealed. I'd better duck out and cover for you so we don't have a Code Pink. We take our quality pastries as seriously as officers such as yourself. Before then, Officer Bradford, we'll be keeping you for observation for the next two days."

He groaned internally, "Two days? Are you sure I can't go home any earlier?"

"Absolutely not. And I know that if I did, it would give you the impression that everything I just told you was nonsense."

"It is," he mumbled.

"Two days, Officer Bradford. Two days."

A/N: Guess what? I am bloody alive.