"I wish you'd reconsider, Ms. Lange."
"I assure you, Doctor, that I will be a much better patient at home than I have been here in the hospital."
The middle-aged trauma physician smirked. "I wouldn't go so far as to say you were a 'bad' patient. Just someone anxious to do things her own way."
Hetty met the man's smile and shrugged, though not without involuntarily shuddering at the sharp pain coursing down her spine.
"And that, right there, is why you need more than one night in the hospital," Dr. Atkins stated, moving forward and placing a gentle hand on the older woman's shoulder. "Please, Ms. Lange…"
"I'm fine," Hetty stated emphatically.
"Like hell you are."
The low grumble from the doorway had Dr. Atkins turning quickly to meet a stone-faced, Admiral AJ Chegwidden.
"Sir, I'm afraid there are no visitors allowed," the doctor explained, moving forward to escort AJ out.
"Henrietta…"AJ growled, "…tell him it's all right."
The doctor turned to face Hetty, surprised at the use of his patient's first name and the man's grainy tone. It was she who had asked that no one be allowed in without her prior authorization. And until now, she had not given anyone's name as a potential visitor- including those of her NCIS team members.
But this man seemed to know his patient well. And by the look of resignation on Henrietta Lange's face, Dr. Atkins deemed she knew this particular gentleman might come to see her.
"Sir, I must ask again…." Dr. Atkins began, turning back towards the Admiral.
"It's all right, Doctor. He won't leave no matter how many times you ask him," Hetty stated, her hand rubbing her eyes before dropping tiredly in to her lap.
"You're sure?"
The physician came closer to her bedside, not at all liking her pale color, her pained expression, nor the sudden loss of vigor in her tone.
"Yes…thank you," she replied, forcing a smile for the physician. "I do appreciate all of your help."
Hesitantly, the doctor stood straight and turned back to the Admiral. The older gentleman had fixed him with a harsh glare, his arms crossed, seemingly waiting for the doctor's next attempt to get rid of him.
Setting Hetty's discharge paperwork on the table next to her bed, he looked away from the Admiral to eye Hetty once more.
"Remember, call with any change or questions. While these papers give you a lot of information, they may not help with everything that comes up. My cell phone is always on."
Hetty nodded slowly, thanking the physician once again, though her eyes never left the Admiral's.
"I'll leave you both now. Your ride should be here shortly, Ms. Lange. A nurse will be in to let you know when they're ready for you."
"That is most appreciated, Dr. Atkins," Hetty replied. "Please let you entire staff know how grateful I am for their excellent care."
The doctor nodded, turning and walking to the door.
But before he could leave, the doctor heard the admiral whisper, "Will she be all right?"
Dr. Atkins turned around, noticing that Hetty was still staring at both of them.
With a small sigh, the doctor opened the door to leave and whispered back, "You'll have to ask her."
Walking towards the nurses station, Dr. Atkins worried he hadn't pushed hard enough to keep Henrietta Lange in the hospital. She'd promised to take care of herself- but he'd heard that from patients before. What if she didn't rest enough? What if she didn't go to physical therapy…take the medication he prescribed…find a psychiatrist to deal with the emotional trauma?
Those thoughts plagued the trauma physician as his pager went off, signaling the next patient needing his expertise was rolling in to the Emergency Room. Cursing under his breath, he quickly signed off on Henrietta Lange's discharge in the computer system…his decision, while still questioned, was now final.
"AJ…"
"Discharging today, Henrietta? Really?" the elder man asked, moving forward to stand by her bed.
"I will be better off at home," she answered sharply.
"Says who?"
"AJ…"
"And which home do you plan on going to? You sold almost all of them!" he reminded her.
"Dovecote," she replied. "It was never sold."
"And you think you can open up that large of a house by yourself?"
"I don't need…"
"Electricity on? Water on? Food in the house?"
She shut her mouth, but her glare spoke volumes. He was pushing buttons he knew he shouldn't, but she needed the help…and by God, he was going to give it to her, even if she kicked and screamed the whole time.
Sighing loudly, he sat on the edge of her bed. He wiped a hand over his tired face, having not truly caught up on his own loss of sleep. Looking back up at her, he found she'd dropped her eyes to focus on her hands now clasped together in her lap.
Her right hand was wrapped in a stark, white bandage; her left hand, in contrast, showing the cuts and bruising he could only imagine covered her entire body. Reaching over, he gently covered both of hers with his own.
"Let me drive you," he said quietly.
"There's already a car on the way," she answered softly.
"I'll have the nurse cancel it."
"You don't need to do this, AJ," she said, chancing a look at him.
Smiling, he reached up and gently cupped her cheek. "I know I don't…but I want to."
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