The first time the doctor tells Charles he can go home, Erik looks at him, squeezes his hand, and says, "What do you think?"
He looks so hopeful, and Charles hates to disappoint him — but he's already made up his mind. "I think it's a ridiculous suggestion," he answers. "I'm not leaving until I can walk out on my own two feet."
"Actually, we have to roll you out in a wheelchair either way," the doctor says. "It's a liability thing."
Charles gives him a flat look, which he hopes expresses the sentiment that he should worry a little less about cracking stupid jokes and a little more about fixing Charles' spine. "I'll sign a waiver."
*
Three days and many arguments with hospital staff later, Charles is still in his room, and this time it's Erik who wants to talk him into leaving.
"Look, you can't just stay here forever," Erik says. "You need to come home."
"Who said anything about forever? I think I've been pretty clear on my conditions."
Erik sighs. He leans forward in the plastic hospital chair and says, "Charles. You know what the doctors say about that."
'You're never going to walk again.' That's what they've been saying about that. Charles is surprised Erik let himself be taken in by it; after all, he's the one who's spent the last few months saying the doctors are idiots, the nurses are idiots, the orderlies are idiots, and the workmen renovating their house are idiots. Personally, Charles thinks Erik's an idiot for spending all that money on multi-level countertops and a roll-in shower and whatever else when they're just going to have to change it all back later anyway.
"Yes, well. They can say whatever they want," Charles says. He's never been terribly impressed by the words that come out of other people's mouths.
"But have they been thinking anything different?" Erik asks.
Well, no. They haven't been. Everyone seems to be in agreement that it would take a medical miracle — that Charles has used up his life's quota of medical miracles by surviving the accident in the first place.
"They're wrong," Charles says.
*
When Erik comes by after work the following evening, Charles takes a deep breath and says, "I've been thinking. I know this has been hard on you, too, and I'm willing to compromise. I don't have to walk out of here; I would settle for wiggling my toes."
This grand sacrifice doesn't get quite the reaction out of Erik that Charles was hoping for. Instead of cheering up, Erik seems to sag a little, then sits down beside the bed. "They can't do anything for you here that we can't do at the house. We'd have a physical therapist come by a few times a week. Why can't you just come home now?"
"Because that would be giving up," Charles says. "I'm not going to give up. I'm going to walk again, Erik. I'm going to walk again, and I'm going to wiggle my toes. I'm going to feel my toes, for that matter. I'm also going to have sex again one of these days. Do you remember sex? I'd suggest you get with the program if you want to share that experience again in this lifetime."
Erik raises an eyebrow, evidently unimpressed by this line of reasoning. "We can still have sex."
"You can have sex," Charles says. "All I can do is service you. I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline on that one."
If anything, Erik looks even less impressed by this, though you'd think he'd be at least somewhat concerned about the possibility that he may never get another blowjob. "I bet it still works."
"Oh, come off it."
"I bet I could get you off right now."
"I bet you couldn't," Charles says.
He realizes it's a trap a second later, when Erik says, "If I can get you off, will you come home? Could you settle for that?"
"Sure. Fine. Go ahead," Charles says. "If you really want to waste your time, I won't try to stop you."
He crosses his arms over his chest as Erik reaches under the sheets.
It's not like anything's going to happen. It's a safe bet, really.
*
Forty-five minutes later, Charles is dripping with sweat, and he can barely catch his breath. It's a good thing he's not still hooked up to a heart monitor.
Hand jobs never used to take this much out of him. They never used to take forty-five minutes, either.
"Did you happen to notice if my toes curled, there at the end?" Charles asks. He'd been looking at them the whole time, but maybe he missed something when he had to blink.
Erik flexes his hand. He takes a moment to answer, and when he does, he's still focusing on his hand. "Sorry, I wasn't looking."
"Oh." Charles swallows hard around his disappointment, and tells himself not to cry. He doesn't know why he suddenly feels like he's going to. Maybe it's because even a really pretty decent orgasm hasn't changed anything else. Maybe it's because, for the first time, he really, viscerally believes that Erik believes this is permanent.
Erik reaches over with his other hand, tucks a strand of hair behind Charles' ear. "Hey," he says. "Let's go home."
*
Charles doesn't really expect to see his car in the driveway when they get home, especially considering it was completely totaled even before they used the Jaws of Life to get him out, but it's still jarring that it's not there when Erik turns the van into the driveway.
The van. Erik traded his car in for a van. That's jarring, too. Charles doesn't recall hearing about it, though he's certain Erik must have told him at some point.
Erik puts them in park, but leaves the engine on. They sit there in silence for a minute or two. Charles looks down at his hands, not because they're particularly interesting but so that he won't have to look at the ramp in front of the house. He doesn't want to see it. He doesn't even want to think about it.
"Erik?" he says finally.
"Yeah?"
Charles meant to follow that with...something. He meant to tell Erik to take him back to the hospital; he meant to ask if they can drive around the block for the fifth time; he meant to admit that he's not at all sure he can do this, any of it. He meant to tell Erik how grateful he is not to be doing any of this alone.
In the end, he says, "I know you didn't exactly sign up for this," which is true. They've barely been married a year. A year ago, everything was so different; they could never have imagined anything like this.
"Actually, I think I did," Erik says. "I'm mean, I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I think there might have been something about it in our vows."
Charles could argue with this, could point out that there was a lady down the hall from him at the hospital whose husband of twenty years left her when she had a stroke. But that's not really a conversation he wants to have. He doesn't want to push Erik away.
A few minutes later, Erik asks, "Are we going to go in?"
"I," Charles says. "Eventually. Can we drive around the block just one more time?"
"Sure thing, but we might need to get gas," Erik says, and backs them back out of the driveway.