Settling in Seattle

Chapter 16- You Did Didn't You?

After a conversation with Donna, Mike was back at her office, and holding his briefcase, ready to go back home. It was almost the end of the working day, and he had a discussion with Oliver that day about coming and working here too. He was deliberating whether to come here and be Mike's partner in crime.

"You ready to go? I'll drive." He leant on the door frame, before approaching her, and holding out his hand in suggestion.

"Yes." She took his hand and picked up her bag. Standing up, she felt the same strain on her back that she always did, except it was a little more painful. She ignored it, and carried on her way out the door, hand in hand with Mike.

The drive home was painfully silent, until Mike turned on the radio, so they could listen to something. It was just random music, but he didn't care. He wanted to distract Rachel from what he knew she was thinking about. She had her elbow on the door of the car, and her head leaned on her hand, hair concealing most of her face.

Mike just about pulled up onto the driveway when Rachel spoke for the first time since they'd left the office.

"Mike," She said in a serious tone, "You're going to need to help me out. I can't move from this seat otherwise." She said, almost laughing at herself to how pathetic she felt. Her back was in agony, and her pelvic bone even worse. Her feet hurt from the heels, which she ought to stop wearing, and she felt physically and mentally exhausted.

"Of course, Rach, whatever you need." He got out of the car himself, picking up his phone and shoving it into his blazer pocket. He ran around the front of the car and pulled Rachel's door open.

"How do you want to do this? How bad is it?" He looked at her sympathetically, seeing her in pain made him want to take it all himself.

"Um, quite bad. I think if you pull me with one hand, and support my back with the other, I can walk to the door."

"You sure?" Mike enquired, before placing his hands in the areas she had instructed. She nodded and they both moved to get her out of the low seat. She stood up and immediately kicked off the heels, making her way slowly to the front door. Mike picked up her nude shoes and followed her up inside.

"Right, you, sit, stay. I am going to go and run you a bath. You can then relax, I'll put all your weird oils into it. I'll call you when it's run, and if you need help you in. Then whilst you're there, I'll make dinner, the only thing I can actually make. We can sit in the living room wrap you up in blankets and eat dinner, maybe put on Netflix, then we can go to bed, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel looked up at Mike, who was towering over her and smiled, "I love you."

He turned and gave her the TV remote, and then went up to run the bath as promised. Whilst he was in the bathroom, Rachel sat, rubbing her stomach, going over the situation she had gone through, and whether she could've done anything to stop it. It went through her head thousands of times. She wondered whether she shouldn't be this upset and should be able to just brush it off. She couldn't do that. He violated her. Rachel shook her head as a tear slipped down her cheek and turned on the TV to distract her.

She wanted to watch something that would make her laugh and ended up choosing Friends, watching the first ever episode. She had seen it multiple times before and loved it. Who didn't? She got about ten minutes in when she heard the water turn off upstairs, and footsteps down the staircase.

"It's ready. I'll get started with dinner, just relax, okay?" Mike held out his hands to pull his wife up. The pain had eased, but it still hurt.

"Thank you, babe." She smiled plainly and made her way to the main bathroom. When she got there, Rachel was pleasantly surprised. She was greeted with the smell of rose and her bath salts. He had also left on the side some of the muscle soak that he must've put in the bath, she could smell that too. There were multiple candles scattered around, all the same plain, laundry scent that Rachel always used. The smile hadn't left her face and was emphasised at how beautiful he made it. He'd left two towels on the heated rail, and a little washcloth too.

Mike gathered his ingredients and laid them all out on the side. He got out the pan and started to make the sauce, as well as figuring out how much spaghetti to cook.

"It smells amazing." Rachel wandered into the kitchen with less of a limp, and seemed a bit more perky.

"You know it." Mike smiled and stretched his arms out, inviting her in to a hug. He pulled her in close and she breathed deeply, taking in the soft cotton smell of his grey t-shirt.

"I hate feeling like I can't do anything myself, even when I'm ill I just get on with it, but this is another level. The water relieved it a bit but it's still there. And then what happened this evening. I hate it, god, I'm independent." She spoke softly but a strong tone of annoyance was present.

"I know you do. But I wanted to do it. I hate seeing you in so much pain, and that was the icing on the cake." Mike pulled her in closer and sealed his arms around her. The embrace was warm and loving, both of them wanted to stay like that forever, "You want to help me serve up and then we can decide what TV show to start!"

"Yes," She said willingly, releasing from his grip, "I have an idea of what we could watch, but I just have one more thing."

"What is it?"

"You did something to Warren didn't you?"

"He's not going to be any trouble. He's never coming back to the office, and he's never going to mention our firm again."

"You did, didn't you?"

"You know I did. I had to."

"Mike, I told you not to."

"I know. And I'm sorry that I told you I wouldn't, and I did. But, I couldn't stand to see him get away with that. The guy has a pretty strong jaw."

"Okay. Just please don't lie to me in something like this again," Rachel peered into his cold, yet inviting blue eyes, "You need ice for your knuckles?"

"No, I reckon it'll be fine. Now, can you get me that tray? Care to enlighten me with your TV show idea?"

"Ummm, yep. We, are going to start American Horror Story. It looks, a...ma...zing."

"Well, okay then, just as long as you don't talk all the way through it about how someone told you that this happens."

"Deal." She looked back at him whilst reaching for the requested tray, and smiled incoherently.

"Deal."