This is a continuation of "He lets me call him Frank now." You don't have to read that story first but it does help put things in perspective. This one was originally going to be much shorter and part of a series, but kind of took on a life of it's own as I went and my ideas for several parts got all intertwined, and then I couldn't decide how to break it up. So it ended up as one long piece. I hope you enjoy. Not sure where I will go from here. It's pre-written so I will try to update daily if I can.
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing. CBS owns Blue Bloods; I just take the characters out for a spin for fun. Also I am not a medical professional or in law enforcement so please forgive any glaring errors.
Chapter 1
The first rays of morning sunshine reflected off a familiar black SUV as it slowly turned the corner onto a quiet street and glided to a stop in front of a stately brick home in the Bay Ridge neighborhood located in the southwest corner of the New York City borough of Brooklyn. The temperature was already tepid for an early August daybreak with promised highs in the upper 90's and sweltering humidity predicted for later in the day. NYPD Police Commissioner Frank Reagan had scheduled his detail to arrive especially early as he was eager to get to the office before his regularly appointed hour. He needed some solitary time to review projected budget expenditures without distraction in advance of a noon meeting with the mayor. As an added bonus, there was nothing Frank enjoyed quite like watching as his city stirred in the early hours, throwing off the vestiges of another dark night to awaken with a new day.
The same could not be said for his youngest son, Jamie, who he once again discovered sleeping in an uncomfortable looking heap on the downstairs couch. Frank sighed as he quietly reached for a light blanket to cover the boy without disturbing him. Even now, six weeks after a frightening bout with pneumonia that had left him in the hospital near death in a medically induced coma on life support for ten days, Jamie was still finding it difficult to sleep in his bed for any length of time. More often than not he ended up sitting up in a chair at some point during the night trying to alleviate the residual coughing and nagging tightness that remained in his chest. Six weeks. Frank could not believe it had already been so long since that terrible day that had started off as innocent as this one. Jamie had spent the past fortnight staying at the family home following his release from the physical rehabilitation center, and he knew his independent son was anxious to get back on his own and return to work. Given his current appearance though, Frank doubted that would be anytime soon; a thought that troubled the concerned father as he quietly made his way into the kitchen to retrieve his briefcase and grab a cup of coffee before leaving for work. He was not surprised to find his own father seated at the table reading the paper and a travel mug already made up and ready to go.
"Morning, Pop," he whispered quietly, mindful of the tenuous rest his son was claiming in the next room. "You're up early this morning."
Henry answered with a small grunt and nodded. "Heard Jamie come down a few hours ago. He was having a bad night. I didn't sleep well after that," he admitted. "He has a follow up appointment with the doctor this morning at the hospital. Erin is picking him up at nine to take him over there. Guess that was on my mind too."
Frank pursed his lips. He knew exactly what his father was thinking. "He is getting better, Pop. It's just going to take some time."
"I know that, Francis," Henry stated somewhat wearily, "but he's your son and twice as stubborn. He's not going to accept the fact that he still needs our help. He's going to try to do it on his own."
Frank nodded as he gathered up his items and prepared to leave; he knew that was the honest truth. "Gotta go, Pop. I have an important meeting with the mayor today. Tell Jamie to call me after he is done at the hospital." Henry acknowledged him with a huff and flipped to the next page as Frank made his way out the back door. Today was shaping up to be a busy day for everyone.
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The smell of French toast and bacon was wafting in from the kitchen as the alarm on Jamie's phone buzzed and startled him awake. It took a few seconds to get his bearings as he reached down to silence it. He grimaced as his kinked muscles protested the sudden move. What he wouldn't give for a full night's rest in a comfortable bed, he thought, but that pleasure had proved to be elusive since he had fallen ill. Instead he had to settle for broken patches of sleep in awkward positions amid intermittent coughing spells. At least he had finally regained enough balance and strength to permanently ditch the walker he had arrived at home with. There was nothing more humbling than having his grandfather handily beat him as they walked down the hall or stairs. Now it was more of a fair race he thought begrudgingly.
Speaking of his grandfather, Jamie could tell by the sounds and smells emanating from the kitchen that Henry was up and had a full breakfast ready to go. He groaned inwardly. Everyone was on the same mission it seemed. After all that had happened he still did not have much of an appetite, in large part because of a basic lack of taste and smell after the irritation from the numerous tubes and medications he'd endured. As a result he was finding it difficult to eat enough to make any headway in gaining back the near thirty pounds he'd lost during his ordeal. The fact that he naturally ate like a rabbit, as Eddie would put it, was not helping. Jamie let out a small grin as he thought about the lengths his former partner, now girlfriend and confirmed foodie, was taking to entice him with all of his known favorite treats from every lunch stop on her beat. He sighed. It wasn't working though and he wished everyone would just back off a little and give him some space on the issue. He knew it would be a topic at today's doctor appointment anyway.
Glancing at his watch he discovered it was already after eight. He knew his sister would arrive early to pick him up for his appointment so he slowly made his way off the couch, ruefully noting the addition of the blanket, which he carefully folded and put away before softly padding into the kitchen. "Morning, Gramps," he greeted Henry while trying to avoid looking directly at the full plate of food already awaiting him at the small table. He went over to the cupboard and pulled out a small glass instead, reaching for the container of milk on the inside of the refrigerator door.
"Good morning," Henry answered as he eyed Jamie carefully. He did not miss the way his grandson skirted around the meal he had prepared. The boy still looked frightfully thin with the dark circles under his eyes enhancing an overly pale complexion. All of Jamie's clothing hung loosely over his slight frame. Anyone could tell he had been severely ill without so much as a second glance.
"I made French toast and bacon; figured you would need a good breakfast before heading out to the hospital this morning," he added.
"Thanks," Jamie replied with a small smile while forcing himself to sit down in front of the plate. "Looks good," he coughed then swallowed hard while picking up the fork; knowing he had to at least make an effort to appease the eldest Reagan.
"What's on your agenda today after the doctor?" Henry inquired.
"Oh, um, not really sure," Jamie replied, carefully chewing and moving things around his plate. "Kinda depends on what Dr. Holden says. I'm hoping she will sign off on letting me drive again at least. Then I need to get to my apartment to go through the mail and pay some bills. Eddie was going to come over there after shift and pick me up. Thought we might go out for a bit. I'll be back home later."
"How are you going to get there? Is Erin waiting with you?" Henry asked. Jamie did not miss the fact that his grandfather was carefully interrogating him.
"No, she's just dropping me off and going on to work," he divulged. "They have a lot of scans and tests scheduled for today so it could take a long time. I'll call someone to pick me up when I'm done or take a cab." He glanced at his watch and added, "Erin will be here shortly. I'd better get a move on it. Thanks for breakfast, Gramps." He got up quickly and tried to discretely empty the remains of his uneaten breakfast in the trash, but he knew he wasn't kidding anyone.
Henry sighed and made his way over to the sink to finish cleaning up. He was still lost in thought when he heard a soft knock. He glanced over to see his only granddaughter come through the back door. "Hi sweetheart," he smiled as she came over to give him a soft peck on the cheek. "Jamie just went upstairs to change. He'll be down in a few minutes."
"It's okay," Erin replied. "I'm early. Just thought I'd stop in and see how things are going. Do I need to get anything at the store for Sunday dinner?"
"No I don't think so," he answered. "Danny's picking up the beef and bringing it over tomorrow. We have everything else covered."
Erin could see that her grandfather was troubled. She knew without asking what he was worried about. "How is Jamie doing this week?" she whispered softly so her brother wouldn't hear.
"About the same," Henry admitted quietly. "Although he doesn't use the walker anymore so I guess that's an improvement. He's not sleeping or eating well yet though. Basically he still looks like death warmed over."
"Well hopefully the doctor..." Erin paused as she heard Jamie's footfalls coming slowly down the stairs, then spoke up louder, "Hopefully Danny doesn't mess up the order at the butcher tomorrow or we'll get a roast tougher than a football like last time."
Jamie made his way back into the kitchen. He was wearing jeans and short sleeved plaid button up over a grey t-shirt. His face was scruffier than normal with a few days worth of stubble adorning it. Normally Jamie was squeaky clean-shaven but lately he had given in to a rougher appearance with a bit of a goatee. He gave his sister a dubious look as he entered. "It's okay Erin, I'm sure the 'roast' will be fine," he noted with more than a hint of heavy sarcasm; as gifted as she was in the courtroom, she certainly wasn't fooling him with that lame attempt to cover herself.
"Jamie, I..." she started to reply before he cut her off.
"It's okay, I'm sorry," he said as he reached for his keys and wallet. "I get it. I just wish everyone would stop treating me like I'm two. Can we please just go?" he asked, eager to avoid a scene as he made his way to the door. "See ya later, Grandpa."
"Call your father when you're done at the hospital," Henry reminded the retreating figure.
"Well this should be a fun drive," Erin deadpanned as she picked up her purse and made her way after her brother.
