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Deeper than the sea.

You are."

Her voice took the pain away. I wouldn't have believed it if I wasn't experiencing it for myself. Her voice took my mind away from my body until all I could do was listen. All I could feel was her voice. Not the aching in my limbs or the hollow in my head.

Just her.

"Hold me.

Hold me.

Take me with you 'cause I'm lonely."

She sang the song slowly, like a lullaby, and before I could stop myself, my useless eyes closed and my mind drifted away.

I slept.

And I dreamed of Grace.

Grace

This was a mistake. I never should have agreed to this job, but I was
almost
desperate for work and
completely
desperate to keep busy. I figured the possibility of a non-stop argument with an abrasive and bitter man was better than waiting for a call to help an old woman or man who didn't want to talk.

A couple months.

I could do a couple months of that and come out of it alive.

When Emma had approached me the day before, all but begging me to help her out, I couldn't refuse. I hesitated, but I didn't say no. That should have told me something about myself.

Either I was a glutton for punishment, or I was just very, very stupid.

She looked worried when she left, and I could only imagine what she was predicting would happen. She knew her son better than I did. Right?

I didn't believe that Merrick was hostile enough to kill me. In fact, I think he kind of liked me. I sang whenever I knew he was in his room, and he stayed still and silent instead of grunting and groaning like I heard him do so many times over the last few days. He treated his mother like shit, but she stayed with it. I admired her for that.

I hated to admit that I was purposely eavesdropping on their short conversation the night before. It had been as much of a surprise to me as it was to Emma that her son didn't put up a fight. Through the blinds covering my window, I'd watched as she helped him get ready for bed.

He slept in his underwear and that surely spiked my blood pressure to dangerous levels. Not just at the idea of him sleeping in so little, but at the sight of his still-amazing body. He was injured and, looking at him, those injuries stood out starkly. His scarring was still fresh and looked incredibly painful. The left side of his face that I could finally see, looked battered. There was no bruising like I expected, but I should have known better. It had been well over two months since his initial injuries, and although he wasn't healed, he was well on his way.

What fascinated me were the parts of his body that were
not
injured. He was still fit for being in a wheelchair and unable to do pretty much everything. His good arm flexed powerfully whenever he moved and his chest was a sight to behold.

Merrick Thatcher was one of the sexiest men I had ever laid eyes on. Dark brown hair that hung in his eyes only made him look more intense. His strength must have been massive before he was injured. He was still a soldier, hurt or not.

I couldn't get a glimpse of the boy he was before he went to war, before he went into the military. That care-free heart breaker was no longer in there. He changed and I'm not just talking about the change that war causes. He had become a man, and it was obvious he didn't think he was a
whole
man anymore.

Emma was just pulling into the driveway when I walked out of my house. At least I wouldn't need a car to get to my job, and Mom wouldn't have to worry about transportation.

"Hello, dear. Thank you so much again for doing this." Her dark, brown hair glistened in the morning sunlight while her smile lit up the rest of her face. Blue eyes beamed back at me and I wondered how she did it every day. Even under pressure, she glowed.

"It's no problem, Mrs. Thatcher. It's my job. I'm just happy to have one."

"Oh, Grace, you call me Emma and I know it's your job, but I have the feeling Merrick will make you work for it. That or he'll chase you away before lunch."

"I think I can handle him," I replied with a sweet smile.

She winked at me and led the way to the front door. I didn't think Merrick even remembered me, and if he knew my name at all, it was because Micah had greeted me in front of him.

"I haven't told him your name yet and I think it will be a shock to him, so just ignore any rude remarks he makes."

I giggled softly and shook my head. I should have known Emma would be sneaky about this. In fact, I was surprised she even told Merrick she hired a nurse in the first place. It was more strategic to just drop the bomb on him, wasn't it?

Before she could unlock the front door, I stopped her, placing my hand on her arm. "I do have one question before we go in."

"What is it?" Emma asked, looking worried.

"Why me?"

She sighed and nodded her head. "I understand that it might be awkward and that you and Merrick never really knew each other, but the other day, I saw something change in him. I think you might be the one to get through to him."

"But I haven't done anything. He doesn't even know me, why would he trust me?"

"Oh, but you
have
done something, Grace."

She didn't explain any further and opened the door. I was back to square one.

"Merrick, we're here."

Grumbling came in loud and clear, from the front corner of the house. I couldn't help but smile. He acted like a child most of the time. I could deal with a child. I was only nervous to deal with the man.

Emma quickly moved down the short hallway, leaving me awkwardly standing in the foyer.

"I need another toothbrush. Dropped it in the fucking toilet again. Maybe you should just stack them on my dresser so I can use a new one each day."

"Oh, calm down, Merrick. We'll figure something out. Maybe if you weren't banging everything around every morning you wouldn't lose your toothbrush so easily. And watch your mouth. The nurse is here and I doubt she wants to hear the filth you spew daily."

"Then she can fucking leave. I don't need her anyway."

I took a deep breath as they rounded the corner, Merrick in his wheelchair with Emma guiding it carefully.

"It's only for a couple months, tops. Maybe not even that long if you're compliant with your exercises and you stop trying to do everything on your own."

Merrick huffed and put his hand down to stop the wheelchair. Emma shook her head and came to stand next to me.

I kept my gaze on Merrick and felt like that mistake I was worried about before, was actually bigger than I originally thought.
He
was bigger than I thought. He dwarfed the poor chair, and his presence alone made me feel breathless. He was very intimidating, but it was when he finally raised his head that I saw a hint of vulnerability. His eyes moved to the side of us. The reminder of his blindness was painful.

Those eyes may not be able to see, but they were just as beautiful as I remembered. A light blue, clear and sharp. Although, looking at them closer, the color had almost dulled and the whites of his eyes were tinted red. I knew he didn't sleep much since I had to resort to shutting my window at night to keep out the sounds of his restlessness. The visual evidence of his exhaustion made me feel guilty for blocking it out.

The scarring on his face looked painful, like whatever happened was actually worse than one could imagine. His left temple and ear looked like it was burned, and the skin was red and raw. It was the jagged scar which started at the side of his neck, however, that reminded me how lucky he was to be alive. The puckered skin followed a direct path over his jaw, up his cheek, crossed over his left eye, and ended just above his brow. That's when I noticed his left eye looked slightly distorted. Whatever caused the injury, caused significant damage to whatever it touched. There was another small scar beneath his right eye, but for the most part, the right side of his face looked completely normal.

My gaze moved down to his good arm which flexed as he held his chair in place. I wondered why he hadn't gotten an electric one that would move around easier, but the scowl on his face answered that question for me. Either he pissed off the insurance company or he had flat-out refused an electric chair. Both were likely. Still, even with his injuries, he looked strong. Just tired. His shirt was twisted as if he was in a hurry to dress and couldn't quite get it right. And was it backwards?

Merrick's impatient sigh forced both me and Emma to snap to attention. Emma had been watching me carefully as I took in her son's appearance. I hoped I didn't disappoint her. His injuries were extreme, but it didn't draw away from his attractiveness. In no way were his scars repulsive to me, and my heart constricted at the thought of
anyone
feeling that way.

"This is my son, Merrick."

He waited for Emma to introduce me, but she looked at me expectantly. I only hesitated a moment before I introduced myself. "Hi, Merrick. I'm Grace."

His entire body stiffened like a board when I spoke, and his eyes widened in shock. I hadn't been expecting that kind of response, but then again, what
did
I expect? A warm smile and a handshake was less than likely.

Emma shifted next to me as we both waited for the explosion.

It didn't come.

I started talking again, Merrick's expression going from unbelieving, to complete and utter astonishment. As if reality had just hit him in the face. Hard.

"I'm going to help you as much as I can, as much as you'll let me, and I hope that it produces results."

"Grace," he whispered, so softly I almost didn't hear him.

"Yes, I'm Grace. I'm also your neighbor."

Merrick's lips pressed into a thin, tight line, and I was grateful he couldn't see me staring at them so intently. They were very nice lips, full and soft looking, even when they were strained in anger. He frantically turned his chair with one hand and one leg and rolled away as quickly as his body would let him, running into the wall several times before he finally stopped. Both Emma and I could hear his deep breaths coming from his room.

He was either furious or having some kind of episode, neither of which were acceptable in my book. I was itching to go to him and help him calm down.

Emma led the way to his room, and I watched as she picked up some clothes that had been lying on the floor. I stayed in the doorway, waiting.

Merrick seemed to gather his control when his mother said his name for the third time. "How could you do this, Mom? It's hard enough that a complete stranger will be seeing me like this, but the neighbor? Is she even qualified?"

"Shut your mouth, Merrick Isaiah Thatcher. Grace is very qualified and she is doing
this
instead of working something easier with much better pay. You show her some respect, and stop whining."

"Mom, I'm sure she can't lift me and what about the whole conflict of interest shit you're always telling me about? I don't think it's a good idea."

"I can assure you, Merrick, that I am very capable of doing this job," I said, firmly. He dropped his head. "And since you and I
are
practically strangers, I don't believe a conflict of interest is the case here."

"You aren't a stranger," he snapped.

"But I am."

"You–" he growled and raked his hand through his hair. His jaw ticked from grinding his teeth together. "Get out."

Emma didn't hesitate to move him further away from the doorway. Once he was out of the way, she exited the room and pulled me into the kitchen where she pointed out Merrick's chart. I had to admit, I was very curious about what had happened to him, but I was mostly curious about his injuries.

How many surgeries had he been through and what else was he going to be subjected to before he was out of that chair?

Emma sat on one of the stools tucked up against the island in their kitchen. "Give him a minute to warm up to the fact that an attractive nurse is going to see him naked."

I giggled and shook my head. "If he could see me, I think he would disagree with you."

Emma eyed me carefully before pulling a list out of her pocket. "Then I guess you're
both
blind."

***

The next hour was spent with Emma showing me around the house, making sure I understood my duties. It was the typical homecare nursing job, and she was obviously worried about leaving me alone with Merrick, who hadn't even come out of his room once.

"I think that's it," she chimed, sighing tiredly. "If you have any questions, please call me. I'm on shift tonight, but my husband, Nathan, will be available in the evening."

"That sounds good. I think we will be just fine."

"Good."

She spoke with Merrick for a few minutes while I went over his list of medications and required exercises. I left the chart for last.

He had been taking antibiotics early on for his burns and hadn't suffered with any kind of infection. It was actually pretty amazing he healed so efficiently. The kinds of burns he'd endured were usually very temperamental, but the skin grafts were remarkably successful, and the doctors had noted that they didn't expect any fallback.

The injuries to his left leg ... I hurt just reading about those. He had a comminuted fracture to his femoral shaft that was treated with surgery a couple of times. In the initial surgery, pins and plates were placed for a temporary fix until his other injuries could be treated. It wasn't long before they opened him up again to place a rod down his femur. His tibia and fibula had both been fractured near the ankle and the ligaments in his knee had been torn completely. No wonder he was still in a wheelchair three months after going into the hospital. The surgeries only just recently came to a close.

Merrick had been so busy dealing with his other injuries, there was probably no time to focus on his lack of sight.

Traumatic Optic Neuropathy. He was diagnosed shortly after returning to the states and by then, it was too late to do anything. According to his chart, the left eye was too damaged to even consider surgery. The questions about his right eye were still unanswered, but the words 'irreparable' and 'possible optic nerve damage' were enough of an answer to me.

The notes on his lack of compliance didn't surprise me either.

I'd only worked with one blind patient a couple years prior. It was in the ER and only for a few moments before the doctor took over. I had no experience with the blind, but from what Emma explained to me and showed me, it was pretty straight forward. I had an idea of what kinds of things could be made easier and decided to start there.

Emma knew my experience was limited and, for some reason, she still trusted me instead of an expert. I wasn't about to disappoint her.