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Unexpected Variables-Chapter 4
Most families of patients want generalities. The technical details are beyond their comprehension and only the most basic of information can get through the emotions. They don't want details. They want kind words and reassurance and survival percentages.
The doctor had never met a group of people quite like the one he'd just left. The one who said she was his partner wanted every last detail and when he began to give it all in layman's term she'd spit it back out at him in medical terms to be sure she understood what he meant. None of them seemed confused by the clinical words, in fact two of the women almost seemed to find comfort in the medical jargon. The man had nodded understandingly at most of the information and the last woman, though she was listening, was mostly watching the partner, basing her comprehension of the situation largely on the reaction of the pregnant woman.
He reached the unconscious FBI agent's bed and replaced the chart in it's proper place.
"That's quite a group of people you've got waiting for you, Agent Booth." He said, obviously not expecting a response. "Let's not disappoint them, shall we?" He motioned to the nurse. "Let's prep him. Where are we?"
"O.R. Two is free."
"Book it. We're going to fix this guy up better than he was before."
"Already booked, Doctor."
"Then I will get ready to scrub in."
"Bren, the doctor said the surgery will take almost two hours. We should get you over to maternity and have you and the baby monitored."
"He said it could take up to two hours, Angela. It could go faster. I have to be here."
"Even if it takes an hour, he'll go to recovery afterwards and it will be a while before he wakes up. Go with Angela. We'll call you if anything changes." Cam wasn't going to take no for an answer.
Brennan knew she was right. And in truth, she wanted to go and make sure the baby was alright. But she also didn't want to leave Booth. If the situation had been reversed, if she were undergoing surgery to repair a nick to her liver from a drive by shooting, to remove a bullet from her body, Booth would never leave. Ever.
"Dr B?" Hodgins searched for the right words. "As a dad….go. I'd want Angie to go. She's not mine first anymore. She's Michael's mom. That's more important than anything else. Booth will wake up and ask how you are. Both of you. You need to be able to tell him and you won't know if you don't go."
So she went.
A nurse much kinder than the ER nurse smiled sweetly upon her arrival and lead her to a small but cozy private room.
"You just make yourself comfortable. Kick off your shoes and lift your shirt. We'll get these monitors on you and listen to your baby, okay?"
Brennan smiled weakly. "Okay."
Angela held her hand as the nurse fastened the long Velcro straps around Brennan's belly and flipped on the machine.
There was no sound.
Angela covered their clasped hands with her other hand as Brennan's head began to spin.
This couldn't be real.
The nurse moved the monitor on her stomach a little bit.
And there it was.
The sound of a heartbeat. It was fast and sounded almost echo like, but it was unmistakable.
"There we go!" Smiled the nurse. "We don't always get it on the first try. Those babies like to float away on us sometimes."
Brennan barely heard her. She just listened.
For the first time through all of this, through gunfire and soothing and collapsing and emergency rooms and concerned friends and doctor/patient confidentiality and surgery and nicked organs and scary silences and baby heartbeats, Temperance Brennan allowed herself to really, truly cry.
Angela cried with her. It's what best friends do.
"The doctor would like to do an ultrasound to be sure that everything is as good as it sounds. He'll be in shortly."
Brennan could only nod and whisper "Thank you" and the nice nurse patted her leg as she left the room.
"Everything's fine, Brennan. For a night that started out so badly, this is all the best outcome we could have wanted."
"I feel very relieved." confessed Brennan, "But I won't feel good until I can talk with Booth."
"You will, very soon." Angela promised, though of course she couldn't really know. "He'll be out of surgery in the next…" she checked her watch "…ninety seven minutes and when he wakes up you can tell him that everything is perfect."
Three hours later, clutching a sealed white envelope in one hand, the other hand on Booth's arm, she waited in a fairly comfy armchair by his bed for his brown eyes to open. And when they finally did, she was quite sure she'd never seen anything so beautiful.
"Hey." She smiled at him.
He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't. She grabbed a cup of water with a straw and held it to his lips. Then he tried again.
"Hey." It was feeble, and she had to lean in and listen well to be sure she heard him.
"The doctor says you're going to be fine. You were very lucky." For him she kept it simple. He wouldn't appreciate an anatomy lesson on just how close it had really been.
"Are…" he swallowed. "Are you okay?"
"I am now."
"The baby?"
"Also fine. Perfect, actually."
Had he not been dazed and drugged and exhausted he would have said more, but now that that the questions that had forced him out of his fog had been answered, he allowed himself to close his eyes and just be thankful.
"You sleep. I have a lot to tell you when you wake up." She kissed his forehead, tucking the envelope into her pocket for later.
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