2019-08-08 - You're Lucky You're Bed Ridden

Word travels fast in small towns. So it didn't take long for Dahlia to hear that a police officer got shot at Two if by Sea last night. It took less time for her confirm it was Ruiz. Hadn't they just had a discussion about being safe? Oh the irony. This town loved to prey on it. It had taken quite a bit of self control for Dahlia to not just drop everything and go to the hospital and see him.

Even when she got to the hospital and found out his room number, she hesitated. Trying to mentally prepare herself because she didn't know how bad it was. Or maybe it wasn't bad at all. Finally, she drew in a soft breath and made her way to the room. After making sure there were no doctors, nurses, or other visitors inside, she carefully opened it. A little double tap of her knuckles on the door as she did. Announcing her presence in case he was awake.

Dahlia's heart was racing, trying not to expect the worse as she closed the door behind herself and made her way over to his bed.

He's been given his own room finally, after a day or so of being pushed through the revolving door of surgery and the ICU. There's something that looks like a little glass-covered bamboo garden sitting on his bedside table, and the man himself looks to have dozed off. His right arm, shoulder and chest are all bandaged up, leaving his inked left arm visible, and an IV needle taped to his forearm. He's about as bruised and battered looking as Dahlia's likely ever seen him; one might almost thing he took the collective ire of four or five men with guns, and somehow managed to survive it.

Those bright green eyes slowly traveled over Ruiz's form, taking in all the bandages and the IV. Part of her wondered how he was even still alive, but of course, the other part was grateful for it. She wondered if she should just leave. Let him rest. Then she sighed and pulled one of the chairs closer to the bed to sit down. Studying the tattoos on his left arm. Ones she'd seen plenty of times before no doubt. "You're lucky you're bed ridden." She murmured, "Or else I'd be raising hell for you getting yourself in the middle of a gun fight." Not even sure if she could hear him, but there was worry lingering on the edges of her tone.

"I was drinking and minding my own business, but your concern's appreciated." That's said rather quietly, his voice scratchy from disuse.. and possibly some sort of breathing apparatus that was shoved down his throat at some point. Dahlia's lucky she didn't see the shape he arrived in. His eyes open a fraction, and then study the younger woman for several beats. "Thank you for coming, though. It's nice to see you." Must be the drugs tempering his usual acerbic mouth.

Dahlia looked skeptical. "Seems to me like you were the primary target for minding your own business." Her gaze drifting down towards his bandages again. Then she's looking back to his face, his partially opened eyes. Her lips quirk into a faint smile. "You're welcome. It's nice to see you too. Guess you just couldn't wait until dinner, huh?" Teasing him a little, trying to lighten the atmosphere a little. For her own benefit or both of theirs is a little unclear, but it's there nonetheless.

"They didn't seem to like me very much," he'll admit, brows knitting slightly with this observation. Really now, someone taking umbrage with Javier Ruiz de la Vega? Shocking, truly. "Wait until dinner?" he repeats, looking confused. Blame the sedatives or the pain, which is probably only partly under control. His dark eyes scan her face in the quiet spaces between conversation, tracing her profile and studying her hands in her lap.

Her hands are clasped together tightly, like she's trying to channel all her worry and the urge to touch him or take his hand into the grip. In contrast to the rest of her body which seems relatively relaxed. "You suggested we go to dinner soon. To catch up properly." She offered in response. "We'll revisit the possibility when you're out of here and feeling better." A shallow inhale and exhale. "What the hell even happened, Javier?" Sure, Gray Harbor was a terrible place, where shitty things happened on a regular basis - but a shoot out? That didn't really jive. Not for Dahlia.

Ruiz's gaze travels back to her face eventually, drenched in the same lethargy that afflicts everything he does, in his present state. He tries to smile when she reminds him about the dinner they'd planned, but it doesn't quite take hold. "I'm going to be very disappointed if you cancel on me, Dahl," he murmurs. "Also, when am I going to meet the boyfriend?" Never mind that she'd already explained he was more of a friend with benefits. As to what happened, he makes an irritated noise in his throat. "Ghosts. With guns." His brows knit again. "And they really didn't like me. Or Miss Reede, apparently."

Ghosts with guns. This is concerning, but with all the shit that she's seen first hand recently, Dahlia doesn't even doubt him. "You would be the one the ghosts didn't like." A wry smile then. Shifting, she finally lets her hands go and leans carefully against the bed. "I've never canceled on you before, honey. I ain't gonna start now." Dahlia assured him quietly. "Whenever I get to meet your girlfriend." Is answered back. She doesn't really know if he's got one or not. As of their last conversation he didn't, but it seemed like the proper response and maybe she was fishing a little too.

Oh, he's perfectly aware she's fishing, and it seems to amuse him slightly. "Technically, I think you've already met her." Technically, she isn't his girlfriend. But why get hung up on details? He watches her lean in against his bed, and his hand turns slightly to brush his knuckles against her fingertips. "When I get out of here, then. Dinner somewhere nice. Or I can cook for you, if you'd prefer."

Well, he knows how to reel her in. Because now the wheels are turning. Trying to figure out who it could be. Because even though she saw Ruiz coming over towards Sutton before she left the Cabaret, she missed him kissing her. So was lacking just a little information to put two and two together. Then she clears her throat, trying to shake off the thought. File it away for a rainy day. "Well, when you know for sure, we'll figure it out." She muses, nodding. "I do miss your cooking," She admits, "But we'll figure it out closer to the time. Any idea when they'll let you out of here?"

He is, as ever, perfectly content to leave things vague and unspecified. She'll either figure it out on her own, or she won't. And will undoubtedly meet the mystery girl, either way.

"Of course you miss my cooking," he murmurs, words starting to slur together a little, lashes sitting low over dark eyes hazy with the quantity of drugs he's on. "Your idea of cooking is a box of macaroni and cheese." He's teasing her a little, but at least they're not fighting. "I don't know," is his answer as to when he'll be let out. "The doctor said they managed to miss any major arteries, so hopefully soon." Because being stuck in a hospital bed is so not his speed.

Dahlia smiles a bit at the tease. "Hey, at least I don't burn water anymore." Rising to her feet. "Well, you just focus on resting then, okay? The sooner you're all rested, the faster you improve, the quicker you get outta here." She leans down to place a light kiss on his forehead. "I'll see you soon Javier. " She would linger a few beats longer and then head back out of the room, leaving him to rest.