Don't Poke the Luna (Xena and Ryder)

Chapter 279

The guilt hit me like a physical blow. Here he was, being nothing but caring and supportive, and I was taking my pain and fear out of his, the dark c in my heart began to dissipate, replaced by shame at my behavior.

I felt my lower lip tremble as I fought back tears that threatened to spill over. Without saying anything. I leaned into him, wrapping my good fra aretind his neck in a desperate embrace.

Ryder, how are you guys doing? I'm in position, Logan's voice crackled through the radio in Ryder's pocket.

1 pulled back from the embrace, watching as Ryder retrieved the radio. 'Getting Xena cleared for transport. We'll be there soon, be replied.

He helped me settle into the chair beside the examination table, his movements careful and gentle. The doctor stepped forward, his manner professional fut kind.

The examination was quick but thorough-checking my vitals, examining my wounds, ensuring my cast was secure. The doctor fitted my left arm with a proper sling that hung around my neck, distributing the weight more evenly.

"Everything looks good," the doctor told us both. "Just take it easy and don't overexert yourself."

Ryder's face lit up with visible relief. I managed to give him a small smile, which seemed to ease his worry even more.

doctor,"

doctor nodded respectfully and left

get you dressed," Ryder said softly, moving toward the

the shirt, we both noticed how the left

he said

to insist I could do it myself, but the reality was that dressing with one hand would be nearly impossible. So I stayed quiet

over my head and working my good arm through the right sleeve. When it came to my left arm, he was extraordinarily gentle, slowly guiding the fabric over the cast

as certain movements sent spikes of pain through my body, but I bit

both became acutely aware of my missing hand. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken acknowledgment of my loss. Neither of us mentioned it directly, but it hung

softly as he finished with the shorts, his fingers gentle as he smoothed the fabric.

"Fine," I replied.

me with my shoes next, kneeling to slip them onto my feet. When he offered to

wheelchair was more than I could bear. I needed to maintain some semblance

to convince me

arm for support. I leaned against him heavily as we began the slow journey toward the helicopter. Each step was a monumental effort, my legs shaky

progress.