My Own Worst Enemy

Deserved

MATURE CONTENT WARNING
***
Gracie slept most of that day, the pain too unbearable to take a break from the pain meds. She knew she'd over done it, but she was so overwhelmed and claustrophobic in those four walls.

"Hey you," Christian's deep, yet gentle, voice caused her to look over. "I need you to eat, okay? I don't want you to have an upset stomach."

Grace sighed a bit but nodded, struggling to move into a sitting position. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath, hands trembling.

"Hey hey, okay," Christian whispered, gently maneuvering her so that the pressure on her injuries was minimized. "I've got you, Gracie. Take a breath."

Grace shook as she breathed, nausea rising in her throat. The adrenaline of her memories coming back must've been incredibly strong.

"Good, good," Christian smiled, combing her hair back. "There you are. Hi," he rested his hand on her cheek, fireworks flowing down his arm. God he loves her.

"You made soup?" Grace smiled a bit, taking the spoonful he offered.

"I found one of your recipes. It's really good, Gracie," he smiled as she ate half of the bowl of chicken tortellini soup and a piece of toast. "You did great."

Grace smiled, slouching a bit. "El asleep?"

Christian nodded, handing her the small pharmacy that were her nightly meds.

"You sleep in here?" She asked quietly, extending the olive branch a touch.

"Always," Christian grinned, gently kissing her temple. "I'm gonna clean up, then I'll be here."

Grace hummed and sunk down, suddenly overcome with trembles and an overwhelming chill. Hopefully sleep would help.

***

11:29.

Why was Christian awake? He'd fallen asleep with Grace around 10, and he was wiped.

The sound of choking alerted him and his head snapped to Grace, who had dark liquid running down her chin. Shit. Shit. She's aspirating.

Christian gently rolled Grace, dialing 9-1-1 once he realized what the liquid was. He couldn't lose her.

Christian gathered Elliott and his diaper bag as the paramedics rushed in. "She's recovering from a broken pelvis, broken hip, six broken ribs, skull fracture, and a subdural hematoma. Six months and three weeks postpartum," Christian hands were shaking as he tried to make sure they had every piece of information they needed. "Sh-she uh... she got mad and pushed her body too far. Now she's throwing up blood... I..." Christian tried not to break, knowing that he was fully at fault. He hurt her.

The medics thanked Christian and got to work on Grace, stabilizing her on her side and putting an oxygen mask over her. "Pulse 43 and thready. BP 79/56. Temperature 103.9°. Let's push saline and get her to Aurora Sinai. Tell them to prep a trauma room."

Christian knew that all of those numbers were bad. He could only watch. He was useless. Powerless. He had to watch her die.

***

Internal bleeding. Surgery. Infection.

It could've been worse, but it should've been better. He should've left instead of her. He should've given her space.

"Oh god... Gracie. I'm so sorry. I love you," he whispered, sobbing against her hand. "I'll never let you get hurt again. Please... please be okay."

He needed to be everything she wanted. Needed to anticipate her needs before she needed them. He needed to keep her safe.

"'M'okay, Chris," Grace said gently, managing to run her thumb over his knuckles. She knew it wasn't his fault.

"Shhhh. You're going to be just fine," he said softly, smiling against her hand after harshly scrubbing his tears away.

Grace nodded, just squeezing his hand. She needed Christian. She needed to let go of her anger. He was here now, and that's what mattered the most.

***

"You aren't leaving my sight," Christian whispered, wheeling Grace into his apartment. "If you need space, I go. Not you," Christian said softly.

Grace nodded, rocking a sleeping Elliott against her. "I'm sorry I scared you." She couldn't imagine what Christian was going through. What he was going through when he saw her choking on her own blood. She could be mad at him while still acknowledging that he must be scared.

"Don't apologize," he said sternly, fixing her ponytail. "You get some rest. Take El, he'll be okay." He knew Grace had reservations about cosleeping, but he also knew that Elliott brought her comfort.

"Mmkay. Love you," Grace didn't exactly know what she was saying, still out of it from surgery and all the pain medication she was on.

"I love you, too," Christian said carefully, knowing that she didn't really know what was going on. But he also knew that he'd regret never saying it back.

Grace smiled and let Christian help her into bed, humming as she sunk in.

They'd get through this.

***
Four months passed and the Brewers season was over, and Gracie needed to get back to her jobs. She was cleared by the doctor, and she just didn't want to be alone in Milwaukee.

Except... she hasn't told Christian yet. Christian thought she'd either be staying in Milwaukee, or going back to Malibu with him. And she wanted... neither. She didn't want to be in Milwaukee. Or Malibu. She wanted to be home.

"Hey, Chris," Gracie said softly, sitting on Christian's lap and laying her head on his shoulder. This wasn't going to be easy. But she needed it... he'd understand.

"Hmm? Hi, Gracie," he smiled, running his thumb over her ample breasts.

Gracie let out a soft moan, leaning into his touch. She could wait.

"I need you," she whispered, turning to straddle him. Her movements were still a bit stiff, but she was cleared.

"I'm yours," he whispered in her ear, reaching a hand in her loose pajama and gently rubbing her clit. The immediate wetness brought a smirk to his face as he inserted two fingers into her wet and ready pussy.

One more time. Grace thought to herself as she thrusted to meet him, feeling him grow hard against her thigh. She needed him.

"Please," she begged, her breaths coming as pants against his neck. "I need to feel you."

Christian nodded and pulled her shorts and his pants down just enough. "Are you sure?" he whispered, rubbing the tip of his cock against her clit.

"Please," she nodded, letting out a broken whine as he inserted the tip. She needed more.

Christian gasped as her warmth wrapped further around him as she lowered herself. "Oh my god," he whimpered, guiding her hips as she buried her face in his neck. "You're perfect. I've got you," Christian whispered as she moved her hips to gain friction on her clit. He knew she was close.

"Christian," Gracie whispered, her voice trembling at the intensity. She'd never felt it like this. It never felt this perfect. This passionate.

"I'm here. I'm here," he whispered as he held her against him. They came in unison, Grace's body shaking in his arms as she came down. It was then that Christian noticed her tears.

"Grace, baby? Did I hurt you?" The worry in his eyes broke her. He did love her. He really did. She shook her head, unable to form words through her sobs.

"I need you to breathe, Grace," Christian said softly, modeling deep breaths. "Tell me what's happening?" He asked as she calmed down.

"I... we're going back to Minneapolis," she whispered, feeling the moment the words registered.

She went from literally full of him, to cold, empty, and alone.

"You fucking bitch."

She deserved that.