A/N I'm not sure where this came from, but i thought it was funny, so I couldn't resist. Enjoy! Sorry for any errors!

Every movement literally hurt like hell. He didn't show it though, not at the moment anyway. If he wanted to get out of his parents' house and back to his apartment, he had to prove he could function on his own. He could, in fact he'd been doing pretty much everything on his own since the first week out of the hospital, but not without excruciating pain. He knew if his mother saw the slightest bit of pain in his eyes, she would not let him leave. He couldn't blame her; she was a cop's wife. She knew how a cop would over exert himself without a second though, and her goal was to prevent that. Don had no plans of overexertion. He just wanted to be back at his own place with his own things and have a little space to himself.

"How are you feeling this morning?" his mother asked upon his entrance to the kitchen. He forced his body into a more upright position, something he hadn't quite been able to do for the past few weeks. His body objected angrily, sending hot ripples of pain from his stitches up into his chest. He coughed to cover the inevitable gasp.

"Pretty good, I think I'm going to go home tomorrow," Don answered.

"You're feeling that good?" his mother asked, skeptically.

"Yeah, and my therapy has been going well. I should be ok at home by myself," he assured her.

"I don't know Donald, you still seem pretty stiff," she argued.

"Of course I do Mom, I exploded a few weeks ago," he replied with one of his award winning smiles.

"Oh stop, that smile could get you out of anything," she laughed as she set breakfast in front of him.

"So you're ok with me going home tomorrow?" Don checked.

"I suppose so, but you take it easy today and promise me you won't be going back to work until you're absolutely ready," his mother said with a pointed look.

"They wouldn't even let me through the front door if I wasn't ready," he responded, stuffing a forkful of fried potatoes in his mouth. His mother rolled her eyes.

The following morning, Don said his goodbyes to his parents and drove back into the city. He rode the elevator to his third floor apartment. When he opened to door he was hit with a million floating dust particles and a mild musty smell. It wasn't hard to tell the apartment hadn't been opened in nearly a month. He dropped his bag in the entrance way and moved into the kitchen. His face held a disgusted expression as he noticed the cube of mold that used to be his loaf of bread. He hadn't put it back in the fridge before he left that day. He can honestly say he wasn't expecting to blow up and not return for a month. He opened his fridge to find more of the same. Initially his senses were invaded with the stench of rotten milk. He recoiled and quickly slammed the fridge door. He gagged and instantly grabbed his side to stem off the discomfort shooting from his injury. He dug threw his drawers and cabinets until he found a large trash bag, an oven mitt, and a towel. He first tied the towel around his face to ward of the smell. Then he began to gather all of the moldy, stinky, or expired food from around his apartment.

When Don returned to his apartment after dumping all the bad food in the dumpster, he felt tired and achy. Clearly his morning had been a little much. He knew he needed to run errands before he could be completely settled back in, but those could wait. Now all he wanted was a nap. Don slipped out of his jeans and carefully crawled under the covers. It felt good to be back in his own bed.

He awoke hours later to the sound of his cell phone buzzing on the night stand. He saw the small blinking envelope indicating he had a text.

"Hey, how are you?" Don smiled; it was from Jess Angell. The young detective had only just joined their squad. He didn't know her very well before the explosion, but that was quickly changing. She visited him in the hospital a few times and they kept in touch through text while he was quarantined at his parents' house. He typed back quickly.

"I'm good. I just woke up from a nap. I'm back in my own apartment," Moments later he got his reply.

"Yay! Did you have to run away? Have you had lunch yet?" Don couldn't help but laugh. He had told Jess he was considering climbing out the window if his parents didn't allow him to leave. He loved them to death, but when you're thirty the last place you want to be trapped at is your parents house. Even if you are injured. He thought for a minute before typing back.

"No, the head nurse let me leave, signed my release papers this morning. I haven't had any food since breakfast." She replied promptly and bluntly.

"I'll bring you something, be there in 20" Don figured he should put pants back on before his guest arrived. He forced himself up from the bed, wincing as he went. He was a little sorer than he remembered. His jeans glared up at him from the floor. He debated whether the jeans were worth the effort it took to pick them up. He decided they weren't and went in search of a pair of sweat pants. He soon realized all his sweatpants where in the bag in the hall and again, he weighed his choices. He once again took the easy way out and settled for a pair of basketball shorts. Don made his way into the living room and noticed the dust on every flat surface. He frowned and went into the kitchen to retrieve the pledge and a dust rag. Why couldn't his apartment be exactly the way he left it nearly a month ago?

Just as he dropped his body to the couch, there was a knock on the door. He cussed under his breath as his tender body pulled in the wrong way once more. He hobbled to the door and answered it with somewhat of a forced smile. Jess's eyes ran over him, giving him a thorough overlooking. He looked much better than he had in the hospital. His eyes were a more brilliant blue and the color had come back to his skin. The abrasions on his cheek and forehead had almost completely healed. His smile however was a complete fake.

"Not feeling good, Don?"she assumed. How did she know?

"Just a little uncomfortable," he shrugged, taking the bag of food from her.

"Have you taken something?" she asked.

"No, I don't like to take it during the day, it makes me feel weird and I get drowsy," Don admitted.

"Take some," she urged.

"Jess," he groaned.

"I won't leave you alone feeling weird, I promise. There is no need to be in pain if you can do something about it," Jess pointed out.

"After we eat," he compromised. He knew better than to take pain meds on an empty stomach. She nodded and they took seat on opposite ends of the couch while they ate. When they finished, Jess took his plate. "You don't have to do that," he protested, trying to get up.

"Stay put, "she demanded in her cop voice. The voice she saved for ornery perps and suspects. He laughed and relaxed back into the couch. "So how has your day been at home?"she called from the kitchen.

"Less than perfect, all of my food was still here and had to be thrown out. I gagged when I opened my fridge," he answered.

"I'm sure that made your stitches feel good," she smirked when she returned with a glass of water and two pills in hand. He gave her a look. "You said you would," she added. Don sighed and swallowed the two pills.

"Ok, from here on out, whatever weird things I say, don't leave this room," he stated.

"Yes sir," Jess giggled.

"And I might fall asleep," he added.

"Then I suggest we watch a movie," she came up with a solution. "You get comfortable, I'll find something," she instructed. Don smiled. He loved how she had come into his apartment and had completely taken over. It was like being with his mother, but so much more enjoyable. He stretched out on his couch and watched her flit around the living room. She curled up into the recliner and started the movie. What seemed like moments later, a light snoring came from the couch, telling Jess that Don had fallen asleep. That's why it had startled her when he started talking.

"Jessie," Don mumbled. At first she thought he was talking in his sleep, until his crystal blue eyes connected with hers. "Jessie," he tried again. Jess stood from the recliner and took two steps until she was directly in front of him.

"Boy, you did not just call me Jessie, twice," Jess said with half a smirk. Something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle came from Don.

"I did," he said on another giggle. His blue eyes were somewhat glossy and an adorable shit eating grin hung on his face. Jess immediately recognized the signs from the druggies they pulled into the station. Don was high, from two pain pills no less.

"Did you need something?" she asked, wondering why he had called her name.

"Yes, I did, could I please have some water," he slurred. Jess nodded and started to walk away. She stopped when she heard his voice again. "You know, in a glass, because if it's not in a glass, I'll just spill it everywhere," Jess breathed a light laugh and left for the kitchen. "Actually, I don't even know how you would bring it to me if you didn't put it in a glass. The water would run through your fingers and you wouldn't have any by the time you got to me. It would be all over my floor!" Don added, loud enough so Jess could hear him in the kitchen.

"I got it Don, water in a glass, would you like a straw too?" Jess replied quickly. She couldn't believe how out of it her co-worker was.

"Ooh! I would love one, but I don't have any because I'm a man and real men don't need straws!" he announced proudly. Jess rolled her eyes and handed him his water. "Wanna to see my stitches?" he asked with a grin.

"No, shhh, drink your water," Jess urged. Seeing his bandages alone freaked her out, she didn't know what she'd do if she actually saw his stitches. She knew it was irrational since she saw worse at work all the time, but Don was her friend and seeing him injured bothered her.

"Am I being too loud? Oh that's right you were watching a movie! I'm sorry," Don responded and turning his attention to the glass she gave him. Don drank the majority of it in one gulp. He set the glass on the coffee table and relaxed back into the couch, staring off into space. After his incessant talking moments earlier, Jess found Don's sudden silence disconcerting. She noticed his expression had changed to contemplative. His brows were furrowed as if her were trying to remember something. It suddenly hit her that he was still recovering from a major injury and that it was probably a good idea for her to pay attention to these sudden changes.

"Something wrong?" she checked.

"I don't feel right," he murmured. Jess eyed him carefully.

"Ok, are you going to be sick?" she needed more information.

"No, I just don't feel right," he spit out a little harsher than necessary. Jess could tell he was getting frustrated. She was glad he wasn't going to be sick though. To be honest, she didn't really want to deal with that. Also she knew that would probably hurt him severely, maybe even rip a stitch or two.

"Don, it's your medicine, why don't you try and sleep it off," Jess suggested. He nodded and let his body relax again. Jess moved back to the recliner.

"Please don't leave," a nearly asleep Don whispered.

"I'm not going anywhere," Jess assured him.

When Don joined the world of the living again, he noticed Jess had fallen asleep too. Trying not the disturb her he slowly stood from the couch and walked towards his bedroom. The pain pills were wearing off and his bandages were all twisted up from rolling around on the couch. It was about time to change them anyway. He picked up his phone from the nightstand. He had a missed call from his mother. He dialed her number and waited for her to answer.

"I almost sent out a search party," she stated.

"No need, I was asleep, sorry," Don replied with a light laugh.

"Are you feeling alright?" the worry in his mother's voice was obvious.

"Yeah Mom, why?" he responded.

"You've been sleeping, that's normally not a good sign," his mother said plainly.

"I'm fine, I just took some of my pain killers after lunch and wanted to sleep off the high," Don explained.

"What'd you have for lunch?" she wondered.

"Takeout. Jess stopped by. In fact she's still in the living room," he answered.

"Takeout will not help you heal Donald," his mother objected.

"It was my only choice, all my food had gone bad. I need to go to the store later," Don defended himself.

"Then I guess Jess is a real lifesaver. You seemed to be talking with her a lot," she noted.

"Mom, it's not like that, we're partners," he mentioned.

"Whatever you say, son. I'll let you get back to your guest," the mother ended the call.

Don discarded the phone and went to retrieve his bag from the front hall. He set the duffle on his bed and dug around until he found the gauze and medical tape. He carefully pulled off the current bandages, silently thanking everything holy that the doctors shaved his abdomen when they stitched him back together. Bandages would be a bitch if they hadn't. Just as he pulled his shirt back over his head, Jess's figured appeared in his bedroom doorway.

"You scared me," she started. Don gave her a look like a confused puppy. "I woke up and you were gone, I thought something happened to you," she continued.

"Oh, sorry, I had to call my mom and change my bandages," Don provided.

"It's ok, I was just concerned since you felt so weird when you fell asleep, but I see you're lucid again" she replied. "What do you say we remedy your lack of food problem," Jess suggested.

"Jess, you don't need that, I can go to the store by myself," he declined.

"Nope, too bad, I will not leave you alone until I know you have proper nourishment around this place," Jess stated sternly. Don knew he wouldn't win this one.

"Fine Mom, let's go to the store," Don grinned.

"First Jessie and now Mom, I'm warning you, when you're back to a hundred percent, I'm going to be all over your ass for that!" she warned.

"Oh, I'm so scared," Don teased. Jess rolled her eyes.

"Let's go detective, shoes, wallet, phone, keys," she instructed. Don laughed and did what he was told.

At the store, Don and Jess bickered about what he wanted and what he should have. Don was stubborn and figured since he was paying, he should get what he wanted. Jess on the other hand, was just as stubborn and tried to provoke some concern for his health. She however, failed miserably. Don won out on pretty much every item, resulting in the cart being full of carbs, sugars, and fats.

"This stuff is going to kill you, Don," Jess commented.

"I'm well aware of my own mortality Jess, I did blow up," Don fired back. Jess was amazed by Don's ability to joke about the explosion so soon after. She figured it had to do with all the support he received from his friends, family, and co-workers. As they rounded the corner, Jess missed the fact that Don had stopped in front of her. She collided with his back. She couldn't ignore the painful grunt that escaped him.

"I'm so sorry," she said quickly. When he didn't respond, she noticed him staring at the card section. "What?" she asked.

"Would it be lame for me to get a card from Mac, you know to thank him for tying…"Don was not allowed to finish his statement.

"Ew, I don't want to hear that! But no, I don't think that would be lame, he did save your life," she noted.

After a few moments of staring blankly into the thank you section, Don threw up his hands in frustration.

"What's wrong?" Jess wondered.

"None of these are right, I'm going to ask the lady," he sighed and walked toward the counter. A pretty blonde who appeared to be in her mid twenties stood there ready to help those in need of a card.

"Hello ," she beamed, sending Don a flirty smile.

"Hi," he grinned. The woman's blush was not lost on him.

"Can I help you find something?" she asked.

"I'm hoping so," he started. The woman nodded for him to continue. "I'm looking for something that says thank you for tying my innards closed with a shoe string so I didn't bleed out, do you have a card like that?" as Don finished, the woman's expression changed to horrified. He was hoping she had a similar sense of humor and would find his statement funny, apparently he was wrong. Knowing he had lost any chance of flirting with the girl any further, he figured he'd creep her out some more. "Wanna see my stitches?" he added.

"Uh, no, no thanks," she sputtered. Don shrugged and turned back towards the aisle Jess was standing.

"You didn't get the date did you?" Jess assumed.

"Apparently people find it gross when you say shoe string and innards in the same sentence, "Don replied.

"Who woulda thought?" Jess remarked sarcastically. "I think I found a card, now let's get out of here before that woman calls security on you," she added on a laugh.

"Yes ma'am," Don obliged and pushed the cart towards the register.

A few days later, Don sat on his couch watching TV and eating popcorn. His cell phone buzzed across the coffee table. He had a text from Jess.

"How are you doing Don? Do you want some water, you know, in a glass?" it read. Don laughed out loud and rolled his eyes to the empty room.

"Wanna see my stitches?" he text back.

"Gross, Don," she replied.