State of Grace
'This is a state of grace, this is a worthwhile fight." - Taylor Swift, State of Grace
Chapter Three:

Deb unbuttoned the small, white, shell buttons of the undress. She couldn't wait to get the damn thing off of her. She couldn't believe Dexter had chosen a sundress. When it came time to pull it over her head, she winced and cried out. The pain in her side was unimaginable. She fell back on to the bed, cursing the dress. It was hardly a second later when the bedroom door flew open and a harried Joey Quinn stood in the doorway.

"Deb! Are you okay? What happened?" He ran to her, kneeling down in front of where she sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm...I'm okay," Deb felt more embarrassed than anything at this point as the pain began to subside, "I just...I tried to pull my dress off and it fucking hurt really bad. I can't even fucking take my own dress off."

Quinn frowned, pushing himself up from the floor, "Let me help you."

"God, I feel so stupid. What butt-fuck can't even get out of a dress on their own?"

"Not a butt-fuck," Quinn rolled his eyes, "Just someone who's been shot, has had to have surgery, and is in a lot of pain. Now then, Dexter left me your schedule of your medicine. You can take another Vicodin in an hour and a half. I also noticed he specifically said you are to have a liquid diet. So there goes ordering dinner."

"You can still order something."

"Nah," Quinn lifted the dress over her head, "I'm not going to have you eating chicken broth alone. I have some Campbell's in the pantry. We can have that for dinner tonight."

"Fuck that," Deb rolled her eyes as Quinn pulled the baggy t-shirt over her head, "You're going to order something for yourself. I am going to choke down my soup. But you aren't going to suffer along with me. I've already put you through hell by having to stay with you..."

"Whoa," Quinn held up a hand as Deb shimmied into a pair of basketball shorts, "Who says you're putting me through hell? It's not so bad having you here. You aren't being a complete pain in the ass."

"Yet," Deb added, "You'll get sick of me."

"I could never get sick of you," Quinn said in all honesty. He hated seeing this side of her - the sadness and frustration. Normally when Deb was upset, she could put on this angry mask and the whole tough act. But not this time. She couldn't even hide how horrible she felt about her situation. Quinn hated seeing her like this. He'd do anything to make it as better for her as he possibly could. Deb sat back on the edge of the bed. She looked exhausted. Quinn wondered how long it had been since she was able to get a good night's rest.

"Everyone gets sick of me."

"Not true," Quinn sat down next to her, hoping that that was an okay thing for him to do. It was always so hard to tell now. Things used to be easy with Deb. He didn't have to think. Now, he had to think about every move he made. "You aren't that obnoxious," Quinn smirked, "Sure, you can be a slight pain in the ass, but who doesn't like a little pain every now and then? C'mon, I don't mind you being here."

"Are you sure?" Deb met his eyes. Quinn was always there for her. Not even Dexter was there for her like Joey Quinn was. And even after all this time, he was still there for her. His smile could still make her feel grounded. And for a brief moment, he made her forget about the pain in her side. Joey Quinn is fucking better than Vicodin. Ain't that a hoot?

"Positive. Why don't we get you to the couch and you can find us a movie to watch. Anything. Your choice. I'll order pizza for myself I guess. Tomorrow, I can pick you up some chocolate pudding. How's that sound? Better than green jello?"

"Anything would be better than green jello," Deb let herself smile.

Quinn helped Deb get to the sofa. He rearranged the pillows for her to lean against. He handed her the remotes and set up the movie guide for her to select from, then went to order the pizza. Deb scrolled through the movies, trying to find something. Nothing appealed to her. Not even her usual favorites. When Quinn returned from the kitchen, he sat down next to her.

"What movie will it be?" He asked.

"Nothing at this rate."

"You always find a movie."

"Nothing sounds good."

"Not even your favorites? The day Dexter said you needed a place to stay, I went out and bought the box set of the first three Saw movies..."

"The only good ones," a small smile crossed Deb's face, "Alright. Saw I it is then."

"Excellent choice," Quinn grinned, retrieving the DVD, "Let's wait until the pizza gets here to start this. I'll fix some soup for you."

"Thank you, Quinn."

"No problem. Just make yourself at home." Quinn winced as he made his way back to the kitchen. At one time, that was exactly what she had done. She'd moved in most of her things. Made the place a whirl wind of clothes and plates of crusty food and empty beer bottles. It had driven him crazy. She had driven him crazy. Now he'd give anything for her mess to be scattered about again. He had to admit, having her here again was nice. Even if it was under pretty shitty circumstances.

Quinn's pizza arrived soon and he fixed himself a few slices and a bowl of soup for Deb. Deb started up the movie and scowled as Joey took a bite of his pizza, "Stop being a fucking cock-tease."

"Hey," Quinn pointed at her, "you were the one who told me to order pizza for myself!"

"Yeah, I didn't expect you to eat it right in front of me."

"Oh, alright. I'll just go stand in the fucking closet to eat my pizza," Quinn rolled his eyes, "Shut up and eat your soup."

"Fuck you."

"I could mush up a slice in the food processor. Pizza flavored baby food!"

"I'm going to puke."

"Watch the leather sofa if you have to," Quinn shook his head, taking the remote from her and selecting "Start" on the display screen.

Deb lifted a spoonful of the broth to her lips. She couldn't help but think to herself - this is nice. This really is nice. Me and Joey sitting on the couch eating dinner and watching movies. It's almost like old times. Except...it's fucking not. I have a hole in my side and we aren't together and everything fucking sucks. But without all of that, then yeah. This would almost feel like old times.

They watched the movie for a while until Deb started holding her side and her breathing began to sound pained. Quinn jumped up from the couch and grabbed her her pain meds, "Deb, I'm so sorry. I lost track of the time. I forgot you could have some more pain meds."

"It's...alright," Deb winced, holding out her hand as he shook two vicodin into her palm.

"No it's not. I can't believe I was so stupid!"

"Quinn," Deb tried to calm him back down, "It's fine. Really. I'm in constant pain. The vicodin just makes it not so extreme. I'm okay. Being a couple of minutes late on my pain meds isn't going to fucking kill me. Chill. You're making me all nervous."

"I just don't like seeing you like this...in pain." He sat back down next her, propping his elbows on his knees, "I feel like I should be doing more. I want to take all this shit away from you Deb - the pain, the frustration. I hate not being able to do enough for you."

"Quinn..." Deb leaned back against the couch cushions, tucking her feet underneath her, "Why do you feel like you have to do all of that for me? I am not your problem anymore. You don't have to take care of me anymore."

Quinn laughed humorlessly, "Deb, when will you finally get it? I'm always going to want to take care of you."