Tender Loving Care

"Haner?" I said, looking around the Emergency Room waiting room. It didn't take long for a tall, handsome man with spiky hair and heavily tattooed arms to cross the waiting room and stand before me. I couldn't help but notice that the man was nursing his right arm. I knew immediately who he was: standing before me was a very injured Synyster Gates! The other patients in the room, teenage girls in particular, temporarily forgot their ailments (and their names) as they stared at him unblinkingly.

I felt my pulse quicken... he was beautiful! I regained my composure and told him to follow me. We walked down the long hallway and stopped in a small room. "Have a seat," I instructed, "I have to get your vital signs."

I slipped the blood pressure cuff around his left arm and put the pulse ox on his finger. I pressed the start button on the machine, the cuff began to inflate. "I don't see why we have to go through all this stuff, Dollface, I just have a broken arm," he said, sounding a little irritated.

"Shh," I began, "Don't speak, Mr. Haner, it can give us a false reading for your blood pressure, and I am your nurse, not Dollface." I said as I rubbed the thermometer over his forehead, starting at his temple and stopping at his jawline.

"Okay, Nurse Dollface," he said with a smirk. I couldn't help but stare into those chocolate brown eyes as he looked up at me. I heard the machine beep, snapping me out of my Syn-induced trance. His blood pressure reading was complete. I looked at the results: high blood pressure, high pulse, high temperature. "Mr. Haner! Did you run a mile to get here? Goodness!" I exclaimed.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I had a show... I jumped off stage, crowd-surfed a bit and when they tried to get me back on stage, they dropped me," he replied like it was nothing.

"Was the show an outdoor show, Mr. Haner?" I asked, pulling out his chart.

"Yes, it was... and it was fucking hot outside, and please, call me Syn... Mr. Haner is my father," he said, sporting a huge, white smile.

"Have you had anything to drink, tonight?" I asked, chuckling and making notes in his chart.

"Woman, I'm a rock star! I drink every night!" he said, still smiling.

I couldn't help but laugh at the animation in his voice. "Well, Syn... we need you to go down to X-Ray, we need to draw some blood, and we need a urine sample," I said, watching a look of surprise cover his handsome face.

"Really, Dollface? All this for a broken arm?" he said in disbelief.

"Yes, Syn, the X-Ray to confirm the fracture, the blood draw to get some bloodwork, and a urine sample to check for dehydration," I explained.

He nodded his understanding and I led him to his room. I oriented him to his new surroundings, telling him how to control the bed, work the remote, and how to use the call light. As a final touch, I wrote my name on the board: Kia.

"Kia, huh? Is that short for something?" he asked inquisitively.

"Yes, it is," I replied, putting the dry erase marker in the holder.

"Can I know what it is?" he asked again, leaning in, trying to captivate me with his eyes. It almost worked.

"No, Sir, I go by 'Kia' and that's all you need to know," I said with a smirk.

"Yes, Ma'am!" he said with a mock salute. He was such a dork.

I gave him a final smile as I exited his room, leaving him for Transport to pick up. It wasn't long before I heard his voice echoing down the hallway: "You guys have gotta be shitting me! A wheelchair? You have to push me around in a fucking wheelchair?! I'm Synyster-fucking-Gates and I don't need a Goddamn wheelchair!"

I walked in as the pretty, teenage transporter looked at him like her heart was breaking, trying to explain to the best of her ability that it was hospital policy and she had no choice in the matter... judging from the look she was wearing, she was, without a doubt, an Avenged fan. "Syn!" I shouted to interrupt his rant.

He stopped mid-word and looked at me. "Yes, Dollface?"

"She has to push you in the wheelchair to get you down to X-Ray... it's hospital policy, we don't have any say whatsoever. So, will you please just have a seat and try not hurt her feelings any further?" I asked, trying to calm him down.

He looked at the girl, expression softening, "Sorry, Kidd... I didn't mean to make you feel bad... I guess I'm still a tad bit tipsy," he explained.

The girl responded with a toothy grin and he sat down in the wheelchair. "I'll see you in a little while, Syn," I said as she began to wheel him away.

He looked behind him and called out: "See ya, Dollface!"

~*~*~*~

When he got back to his room, I gathered my supplies for the blood draw. I knocked on the door, coming in when he said to. I rubbed hand sanitizer on my hands until it dried.

"Hey, Nurse Dollface! What's shakin'?" he said as he used the remote to raise the head of his bed up. Judging by the way he was speaking, the narcotics were making him feel pretty good.

"Not much, I just came in to get some blood from you," I said, setting my supplies on his bed table.

"Do your worst, Evil Nurse Dollface! I will not be broken!" he said pointing his left index finger in the air... Yup, he was loopy.

I put on my gloves and tied the tourniquet around his taut, strong arm. I searched his tattooed arm for a spot that was absent of ink and found a small spot between tattoos. I prepped the site and surrounding skin with alcohol, making his colorful skin shine momentarily. 'He is so perfect,' I thought as I watched the alcohol dry...

"Don't forget to breathe, Kia," he said as he watched me watch him. He was right, I hadn't taken a breath since I applied the alcohol.

I shook the dirty thoughts from my head and picked up the needle. "And here's a stick..." I said as I advanced the needle, I attached the vacutainer and filled three tubes with the guitarist's blood. I popped the tourniquet and removed the needle, covering the puncture with a cotton ball.

I placed the needle in the sharps container, bloodied gauze in the biohazard, and my gloves in the trash can. I turned to him and to my surprise, he was staring at me. "Yes, Syn?" I asked as he closed his mouth.

"Call me Brian," he said with a smirk.

"Yes, Brian?" I repeated, looking at him.

"You just look so hot, going around doing things how you do..." he said, causing heat to rise through my body.

"Well, that's nice, Mr. Haner, but I'm afraid the narcotics have gotten to you," I said, trying to restore professionalism. I picked up the specimen cup that I brought in with me. "Do you think you can give me urine?"

"I can give you a hell of a lot more than urine, Kia," he said as he stood up and walking toward me, closing the distance between us. He was close enough that I could smell the mint on his breath and he leaned in to whisper in my ear: "Call me Syn..."

~*~*~*~

It had been about an hour since my run-in with Synyster Gates. I had purposely been avoiding his room for fear that I would do something that I would regret.

I walked down the hallway, making rounds when I passed Syn's door. The doctor was inside, I could hear them through the door:

"Mr. Haner, the X-Ray did, in fact, indicate a fracture-" Dr. Wheland began, only to be cut off by Syn.

"No shit! I could have told you that my damn arm was broken!" he said sarcastically.

Dr. Wheland continued: "It is a greenstick fracture, meaning that it's not a complete fracture, it's most often seen in children..."

Syn was at it again: "So I'm a grown ass man with a half ass fracture?"

Dr. Wheland cleared his throat and continued: "You will have to be put in cast for-"

Syn again: "A what?! How the hell am I supposed to shred wearing a fucking cast?"

At this point, Dr. Wheland was getting quite frustrated: "Mr. Haner, please! You will only have to wear the cast for a month. Your blood alcohol level was at a .09, which explains your aggression. I hope you didn't drive here because the law is .08 and it's been a few hours since you've had your last drink. Otherwise, your bloodwork came back normal. The increased specific gravity of your urine is indicative of slight dehydration, so we will be starting you on some normal saline to get your fluids up. Any questions? Good. You have a good day."

Dr. Wheland walked out of the room looking rather flustered. He looked at me and shook his head, "He's all your's," he said, walking quickly away.

Upon receiving Dr. Wheland's formal order for IV fluids, I went to the supply room to gather what I needed for the procedure. I walked to his room, took a deep breath, and knocked on his door.

"Come in," he said as if I interrupted a good nap or a good t.v. show. I walked in and put the supplies on a table and rolling in the IV pump. "Hello, Nurse," he said, clearly mocking the Animaniacs. I smiled at him, there's no law against finding him charming, I suppose.

"Hey, Brian. I'm here to start an IV, apparently, you're a tad bit dehydrated," I said, busying myself with priming the IV tubing. We didn't want to give Mr. Gates any air bubbles, did we?

"I drink plenty of fluids, Dollface. Honest! " he said, crossing his heart. I couldn't help but laugh at the childish gesture.

"Just because it's wet doesn't make it water, Mr. Gates," I said with a smirk. Was I actually flirting? Oh, well, nothing would come of it.

"Is it?" he asked, looking suggestively at the front of my scrub bottoms.

I quickly turned away from him. I felt the heat rising up my body. My heart was beating so loud, I was surprised he couldn't hear. I swallowed. This conversation was becoming unacceptable. "That is very inappropriate, Mr. H-," I began. Before I could finish my sentence, he was inches in front of me, majorly invading my personal space. "I think that's close enough," I said, while my brain was screaming: 'Not close enough!' . Again, I found myself unintentionally holding my breath.

He reached down and pushed a loose hair behind my ear. I trembled as he ran his calloused fingertips along my jaw line. With a smirk, he leaned down and whispered: "Don't forget to breathe."

It was all I could do to stay on my feet. He knew the effect that he had on me but he didn't care... he seemed like he found this amusing!

"Syn, please," I said in a small voice, that was dangerously close to a moan, "I can't do this. I have a job to do... this isn't right."

He searched my face, surely seeing the war that was raging in my head. "What are you so afraid of, Kia?"

"I am a nurse. It is against our Code of Ethics to get involved with our patients," I explained, hoping it would be enough for him to understand.

"Well, I won't be a patient for long. What then?" he asked, leaning his delicious body against the wall, sure that he had found a loophole.

"It's... it's just unethical, please stop or I will be forced to get you a new nurse," I said, sounding more in control of my emotions than I felt.

"Fine, then, Kia, I'll leave it alone for now," he said, sitting back on his bed.

"Thanks, Syn," I said, relieved that I would get a break. I had no idea how much longer I could deny him.

"This is your fluid bag, you're going to getting 1000 mL of normal saline. Your fluid will be infusing at 250 mL per hour, which means it'll take 4 hours for you to finish getting your saline, so make yourself comfortable," I said, as he watched me talk with a sexy smirk on his face, "and I'm really sorry about having to stick you again."

He shrugged his shoulders and continued his smirking. "Does it look like I have any problems with needles, Dollface?" he said gesturing at the vast amounts of ink that adorned his body.

I laughed and shook my head. "No, I guess not. Why did you get so many tattoos?" I asked, tracing the monsters that painted his forearm.

"I'm just a rebel, I guess," he said, laughing, "But, seriously, I've always liked tattoos, I just had no idea that I would end up with so many... and there's many more to come." He chuckled at the reaction on my face. "Come on, Kia. Don't tell me you don't have any tattoos!"

I blushed and looked away. "Yes, I have tattoos," I admitted as I rubbed the alcohol on his skin for the second time that day.

"I take it that you won't let me see, huh?" he said, again laughing at my lack of respiration as I watched the alcohol dry.

"No, Syn... I'm afraid not," I said, shaking my head, "Here's a stick," I said as I pushed the needle in. He screamed... almost making me jump out of my skin. I actually thought I hurt him until I heard him laughing like a black person watching a Tyler Perry movie... asshole.

I smacked him and called him a jerk. "Hey!" he said, dramatically rubbing his arm, "Is there anything in that damn code about not beating your patients?"

"Gee, I'm sorry. You just had me thinking I stuck a valve!" I said furrowing my brow at him.

"Jeez, Dollface, I'm at your mercy," he said, making a rather pathetic face, "Just don't hurt me anymore...I'm vulnerable." He was so full of shit.

~*~*~*~

When I left his room, I had the overwhelming urge to turn around and go right back in. I went about my normal duties. It was getting late, well, early in my case and it was still about an hour before my 12 hour shift was over. No matter what I did, my mind wandered back to Room 127 where Brian Haner, Jr. was probably fast asleep. This is why it wasn't a good idea to fuck around with your patients... you lose focus.

I was making my hourly rounds when it came time to check Syn's IV infusion. I knocked on his door and surprisingly, when he told me to come in, he sounded wide awake.

"What are you still doing awake?" I asked, rubbing the hand sanitizer on my hands. I walked over to him to inspect his IV site. It looked pretty good: no swelling, no heat, no infection.

"I just was thinking how dumb I'm gonna look on stage wearing a cast," he said, sounding pretty bummed.

"How are you gonna play?" I asked, looking down at him.

"I don't need my whole arm, Kia, I just need my fingers," he said, imitating playing his guitar, moving his long, thin fingers in ways that made me blush.

"Well, you've got it all figured out, then," I said, trying to shake the heat from my face.

"Is that so? How do you figure?" he said, looking at me inquisitively.

"Well, the hard part's figured out. If you can play, it doesn't matter what you're wearing. Your fans will love you either way and if anything, they'll be even more thrilled that you showed up injured," I said with a smile.

"Yeah?" he asked, rubbing his chin, "I never thought of it like that. Thanks, Kia."

"No, problem, Gates," I said, "The dayshift nurse gets here at 7, they'll draw up your discharge papers then."

He nodded his understanding. I gave a final look at him and smiled. "Kia," he said, trying to catch me before I closed the door.

"Yes, Syn?" I asked, poking my head back into his room.

"It was really nice to meet you," he said with a genuine smile.

"It was nice to meet you, too, Syn," I said returning the smile.

I closed the door and cursed. 'There goes a once in a fucking lifetime opportunity!' I thought as I clocked out.

~*~*~*~

"You mean to tell me that you let Synyster Gates slip through your fingers? Mi'Kia Rae Langston, your mama didn't raise no fool!" my mother yelled into the phone.

My mom could always make me laugh. I took the personal liberty of giving her Avenged 101 when I was a senior in high school. She could now identify all the members by their pictures and could tell me what instruments they played, whether I shuffled them or not . She even knew some of the lyrics but mostly just choruses. She didn't even cringe when I showed her my matching Death Bat tattoos that resided on my shoulder blades. Syn was always her favorite.

"Ma, you know he's a patient," I began. She cut me off.

"Mickey, I understand where you're coming from but that man didn't give a damn if he was a patient, he liked you regardless and even looked for a loophole. Plus, he's not even a patient anymore! You need to get out of that damn box you're living in or you're gonna die in it!" she said, with a final warning.

She had a point, all I have done for two years is work and sleep. I rarely had time for myself, even though I only worked 3 days a week; but after working 12 hours a day I just didn't want to do anything in my free time. I was an ER nurse and a damn good one at that. I didn't date, I didn't go out, I just slept and spent my days with rock music blaring in my ears.

"Okay, Ma, I'll try to break out my box and if I get screwed over, it's your fault!" I said, only halfway joking.

"You won't, Mickey. Just hang in there and don't be so guarded," she said softly.

"Okay, Mom, just stop calling me 'Mickey'," I said surrendering. They nicknamed me Mickey because my name is Mi'Kia. I always thought it was pretty dumb but it was like fighting a losing battle. That's why I only went by Kia, if I gave people my full name, they would always make the connection. As usual, she disagreed and we ended our conversation with our I Love You's. I hung up the phone and laid back in my bed.

"What if it's too late?" I wondered aloud. It had been three days since Brian Haner, Jr. checked out of the hospital. By now, he surely would have moved on to something more his speed: Something beautiful, pierced, and tattooed, something confident and charming...something that was unlike me in every way possible. There was only six hours until I had to be back to work so I needed to get some sleep. I closed my eyes and let a dream that only Syn could make come true wash over me.

~*~*~*~

When I got to the ER, it was full. It was a typical Friday night, full of bar fight and accident victims. I was definitely in for a long night though I didn't really mind. A busy night is a quick night. When I made it to the Nurse's Station, I was floored by all the different flower bouquets that littered the countertops. I walked over to Sheila, my Charge Nurse.

"It must be close to your anniversary, huh, Sheila?" I said gesturing to the vast amounts vases. Her husband, Ryan was always having flower bouquets delivered to the hospital, usually it was an anniversary, Valentine's Day, or her birthday. She just looked at me and shook her head. Her pretty face broke into a grin.

"No, Sugar, these aren't for me," she said with a smile, "These are for you... every last one of them."

I looked at all the flowers in disbelief, she had to be kidding! She walked over to me, holding a card. "This came with them," she said handing it over to me.

I looked it over, it was a pink card that looked really fancy. I was almost scared to open it... almost. When curiosity got the best of me, I opened it. I laughed aloud when "Hey, Mickey" by Toni Basil came from the card. There was a message that covered one entire side of the card. It was written in semi-messy print, like the writer is normally a really messy writer but wanted to make it look neat. It read:

Hey Mickey!

Mi'Kia, is it? Nice to meet the real you! I wanted you to know that I've thought of you every day since you walked out of my hospital room and it's been three whole days! Honestly, that's pretty big for me. I hope that you can find it in you to give me a chance. Just one chance, if you still don't like me after that, I'll leave you alone.

Just to let you know: I looked up that damn Code of Ethics and it said "When acting within one's role as a professional, the nurse recognizes and maintains boundaries that establish appropriate limits to relationships." Correct me if I'm wrong but doesn't that mean that if I'm not your patient, you aren't acting in a professional role? Just think about it, okay? I hope you like the flowers, I didn't know what kind you liked so I bought one of everything I could think of.

I'll be in touch, Syn

When I finished reading, I noticed that Sheila was looking at me all maternal and mushy-like. "I don't know who these are from, Child, but that man is definitely a keeper in my book!" she said with a smile.