"I want that fucking paperwork signed and on my desk by Friday, Ros. I don't give a fuck what their excuses are," Christian barked irritably from behind his desk. His day thus far had been frustrating due to his lack of sleep the night before and all the work that had built up over his three-day weekend with his family. Truth be told, he'd have much preferred being home with them rather than glaring at his second-in-command, but he had an empire to run.
Ros opened her mouth, probably to speak some sort of reassurance, but she was interrupted by a brisk knock on the door.
"What?" Christian snapped loudly.
The door opened and Taylor entered, as always, unaffected by his boss's tone. "Sir, I've just had an urgent call from Sawyer," he said briskly.
Immediately, Christian switched from pissed off to worried; there was only one reason Sawyer would call or why Taylor would be interrupting—something was wrong at home.
"What happened?" Christian heard himself whisper.
Taylor hesitated for half a beat. "Sawyer is currently driving Mrs. Grey and Teddy to the hospital, sir. It seems there's been a minor accident and Teddy may have a broken arm."
"Fuck!" Christian shouted, already out of his chair and reaching for his jacket. "Ros—"
"It's fine, Christian," she told him quickly. "Go, be with your family."
Taylor held open the door as Christian rushed through it, finding Andrea seemed to have taken the initiative of calling the elevator and holding it open for her. Christian gave her a terse nod, ignoring the pleased expression on her face. While he waited for the impossibly slow elevator to hurry the fuck up and reach the ground floor, all Christian could think about was his son. The only injuries Teddy had had in his young life had been minor scrapes and bruises. The adults around him had seen to it that he'd remained in the safest possible situations and was never any place where he might come to harm. So of course, this begged the question of where the fuck Ana and Gail and Sawyer had been when Teddy was apparently breaking his arm.
"The car has been pulled around," Taylor informed him when they reached the ground floor and made their way for the front door.
Christian didn't reply, but he didn't think Taylor had expected him to. The drive to the hospital was a long one, even with Taylor's speed and expert maneuvering around the assholes on the road. They reached the emergency room entrance and Christian hardly waited for Taylor to slow down before throwing open the door and jumping out.
Fortunately for him, and everyone around him, it only took Christian a few barked demands to find out where his family was and he saw Sawyer standing guard outside an examination room door looking pale and fearful as Christian approached.
Rightfully so, he thought darkly. "Start talking," Christian practically shouted.
Sawyer paled even more and swallowed hard before speaking. "Teddy slipped on the staircase, sir," he told Christian, his voice wavering very slightly. "I was walking in the house as it happened. I tried to catch him, Mr. Grey, but—"
"You'll be lucky if all I do is fire your ass," Christian growled, pushing past the other man and deciding to wait on determining Sawyer's fate for the moment.
His eyes immediately sought and found Ana and Teddy, both sitting on a hospital bed. Teddy was in his mother's lap, practically asleep on her chest, his arm in the hands of Grace Trevelyan—Christian sighed in relief at the sight; at least he knew his son was in the best of hands. Ana and Grace both looked over at him as the door opened, the former seeming to be utterly fearful of him, the latter giving him a warning look—warning him about what, he wasn't entirely certain.
While his first instinct was to lose his temper and demand how his son had been allowed to hurt himself, Christian closed his eyes, counted to ten, and took a deep breath. "How is he?" he asked in a calm, measured tone that seemed to surprise both his wife and mother.
"He'll be fine," Grace told him reassuringly. "We took an x-ray and his arm is broken, so we are preparing to set it in a cast. He's been given a mild pain reliever to calm him down enough so we could take care of him."
Christian nodded and approached, reaching out a hand to smooth down his son's hair. He winced as he caught sight of the little boy's bruised arm. There wasn't anything he hated more in the world than to see his son in pain. The day he'd been born, the first time Christian had held him in his arms, he'd made a silent promise to him that he would never do anything that might harm him in any way and he would keep him safe from every bad thing in the world. Having his own history that involved abuse as a small child, he vowed to keep his son from ever experiencing even a fraction of the pain he had. It was nothing short of torture to see Teddy like this now, especially since he knew there wasn't really anything he could do to make it better.
Glancing at Ana, her expression mirrored his internal feelings almost exactly and his heart wrenched as he bent down and kissed her forehead. She looked at him in surprise, obviously having expected a much different reaction from him. There would be time for all of that later on, once they took care of Teddy's needs.
"Well, we should get his arm set and wrapped in his cast before the pain medication wears off—knowing this boy like I do, he won't sit still long enough to let us do much without a fight," Grace told them wryly.
Ana started to stand, trying not to jostle Teddy, but judging by the whimper the boy emitted, she wasn't doing a very good job of it. "Give him here," Christian ordered quietly. Without waiting for a response, he carefully took their son into his arms, ignoring her expression of hurt that she tried to hide from him. She hugged herself as she followed Grace and Christian down the hall to a private examination room where Grace gestured for Christian to sit with Teddy on a table. Ana remained near the door, just watching Christian and Teddy. He wished he knew what she was thinking, what had brought the sudden look of longing onto her face. In the past, more often than not, he could get the gist of what was going on in her head; now, however, he had no idea and it made him feel even more useless than he did with Teddy.
The room was tense as a nurse entered to assist Grace in the setting of Teddy's broken arm—a process that made Christian want to know what the hell kind of tranquilizer they'd given Teddy while they worked. With how quickly and simply the process went, it reminded Christian that these things happen often and it wasn't the end of the world. They finished up by wrapping the dark blue tape around the padding and Teddy didn't seem to mind in the slightest.
"All done," Grace told them happily. "You should be set to go home. We'll want to see him in a few weeks here at the hospital and of course, I'm only a phone call away in case everything goes wrong. I'll give you a prescription for him, but only give it to him when you think he's truly in pain—it will make him sleepy, so be ready for that. Other than that, keep a plastic bag or something wrapped around his arm while you bathe him—do not let the cast get wet—and just keep him away from staircases."
"That won't be an issue," Christian said coldly, already planning on how to avoid any future dangers, taking the prescription and instructions for taking care of Teddy's cast from his mother. "Thank you. We'll see you this weekend."
She gave him a sympathetic smile. "Teddy's going to be fine," she told him quietly. "Small children are very resilient. I've got the perfect example of that standing right in front of me." Christian's brow furrowed, uncertain what his mother was getting at. "Just keep in mind accidents happen, Christian, and everything will be fine."
"Right," Christian muttered, standing and following his wife out of the room.
After a few last minute instruction reminders and goodbyes, the Greys left the hospital finding Taylor and Sawyer waiting beside the car. Christian didn't bother asking what happened to the one Sawyer had driven there, but instead shot Sawyer a look that assured him there would be a very long conversation later on. Gulping, Sawyer held open the backseat door for Ana while Christian walked around to the other side, carefully buckled his still sleeping son in the car seat that separated Ana and Christian, and climbed in beside him.
The drive home was silent. Whenever he glanced over at Ana, she was staring out the window, just as she had been the morning they'd arrived back in Seattle from Omaha. Obviously she was waiting until they got home for Christian to start in on her about Teddy's injury. Much as he wanted to, he'd already made the decision to wait until he heard her side of the story. He was fully aware that kids were accident prone and at some point, Teddy was going to get hurt, and there would be nothing Christian could do to stop it. You can't just throw money at an accident like this to fix it. Looking at Teddy now, he obviously wasn't fazed by a broken arm—though that could have been the medication Grace had given him at the hospital—and he recalled Grace's words about children being resilient. For the moment, he ignored the sentence that had followed.
As they pulled up to the house, it occurred to Christian that with Teddy's injury he'd forgotten all about the mysterious Roger. He and Ana would need to talk about that as well. It was going to be a long night...
Teddy started waking up just before dinnertime. He was groggy and confused, but didn't seem to be in any pain, much to his parents' relief. Once he realized one of his arms was heavier than the other, Ana and Christian explained to him what had happened then asked him what he remembered.
"Um," he began, poking and prodding the cast curiously, "I woke up and wanted to play, so I went to find Mommy and I thought it'd be fun to slide down the stairs, so I tried and fell."
His parents stared at him for a few moments, Ana fighting the ridiculous urge to laugh at the matter-of-fact way Teddy told them what had happened. It only took one glance at Christian's obviously angry face to quell that sensation, and she waited to see how he would react to this.
"How many times have I told you not to play on the stairs?" Christian asked through gritted teeth. Teddy immediately stopped playing with his cast and looked up at his father in surprise. "It's dangerous, Teddy! You could have hurt yourself worse!"
Ana felt her heart breaking a little at the sight of her son's bottom lip quivering, either in fear of his father's outburst or whatever punishment he knew would be coming. "Sorry, Daddy," Teddy said meekly.
Ana's eyes darted between her husband and son, and watched in utter fascination as her ever-mercurial Christian transitioned from angry to concerned father within a few seconds. Christian sighed, running his hands through his hair, calming his temper. "It's all right, son," he said quietly, holding out his arms for Teddy. The boy immediately closed the distance between himself and his father and hugged him closely. She could almost see Christian's thoughts running through every possibility of what could have happened, along with the thoughts that just a few weeks ago there had been a possibility that Christian might never see his son again.
She had expected him to walk into the hospital screaming at the top of his lungs, demanding to know where his son was, what had happened, and why it had been allowed to happen. She'd expected to face the full Christian Grey wrath in that examination room, but it hadn't happened. He'd told her over the weekend how he'd had to change how he handled things, especially when it came to Teddy, but until this moment, watching them, she hadn't really understood. They were now sitting, Teddy in Christian's lap, as they talked quietly with one another, and she felt as though she was intruding. Unable to really deal with her emotions, she quietly slipped away without drawing their attention.
Gail called that dinner was ready and Christian stood, Teddy in his arms, and turned towards his wife. He blinked rapidly as he found the chair she'd occupied just a few minutes ago to be empty.
"Where's Mommy?" Teddy asked tiredly.
"I don't know," Christian replied, his heart beginning to race for some unknown reason. He knew Ana couldn't have left the house without alerting the security team, not since that Roger fucker had been sighted across the street. Perhaps she'd gone to the bathroom or something... That thought comforted him slightly and he placed his son in his seat at the table, sitting beside him. Gail left them to enjoy their dinner, and Christian waited for his wife to join them, but her chair at the table remained unoccupied.
Teddy was falling asleep in his chair, having eaten half his dinner. With a sigh, Christian cleared all three plates from the table, picked up his son, and took him to bed. With Teddy tucked neatly in bed, Christian went off in search of his wife. Luckily for both of them, it was a short search: Ana was curled up in their bed, with the lights off, and unless he was mistaken, she was crying.
"Ana?" he said quietly.
He heard her breath catch, but she made no other acknowledgement of his presence. Taking off his shoes and socks and tie, he climbed into bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. "Baby, what is it?" he whispered against her hair.
She didn't respond, only continued to cry, so he continued to hold her. Somehow, he knew he was to blame for this, but fuck if he knew what he'd done. It hadn't escaped his notice that he'd been fully prepared to lay into her for not being near to keep Teddy from getting hurt and now she'd distracted him with tears. It certainly wasn't the first time this had happened, and he was still clueless as to how he should handle it.
"I'm sorry," she eventually said, her voice raspy.
"What for?" he murmured.
She sighed. "Everything. Teddy. Roger. Just... everything..."
He only thought for a moment before making his decision, rolling her onto her back so he could look at her. "Stop apologizing," he told her sternly. "None of this is your fault, Ana." She gave him a look of such skepticism that he couldn't help but crack a smile. "Well, maybe it is your fault, but I'm here to help keep some of this shit off your shoulders. I told you I would do whatever it took to keep you safe and make you happy, and that's not changed in the slightest. We still have a mountain of shit to work through and I need you to help me."
She nodded slightly. "I know," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I just wish I knew how."
He closed his own eyes. "Me, too." He lay on the bed on his back, pulling her against his chest and hugging her to him. The same things had been on his mind—they'd come so far in such a short amount of time, but there were things neither of them were able to get past, and that held them back from both each other and their future together. Every time he thought they were taking a step forward, something happened to knock them back ten steps. As much as he wanted to take his wife back to Escala and the playroom to sort things out, he didn't want to do any more damage to her. She was still having nightmares—not quite as bad as the one on The Grace had been, but bad enough that he'd lain awake at night to keep an eye on her in case she needed to be awoken in a hurry.
It really surprised him that she'd let him make love to her the night before; he'd half-expected her to panic halfway through and push him away. And what was worse, he wasn't sure he could have let her push him away. Being without her for so long had created an almost desperate need for her—his body craved her more than it ever had before—and he'd been so caught in the moment he probably wouldn't have even realized she was protesting. If that had happened, he'd have been no better than Hyde and when he finally came to his senses, it would have destroyed him to realize how he'd made her feel.
He had to get away from those thoughts. "You didn't join us for dinner," he said softly.
She started shaking again and his heart stopped for a moment, thinking he'd made her cry, until she looked up at him and he was able to see the watery smile on her face. "I wondered how long that would take you," she said, her voice still a little hoarse.
"Well, Mrs. Grey, you know me, I can't stand to see anyone go hungry—you're far too thin as it is," he said sternly, trying to soften his tone so as to not upset her anymore than she already was. At the same time, her far too thin frame had been bothering him since the first night he saw her in Omaha.
"I'm really not hungry, Christian," Ana told him wearily.
"Not an acceptable answer, Anastasia."
Without waiting for her response, he got out of bed, pulling her with him by the hand back down to the dining room. "Sit," he commanded, pulling out her chair for her. Once she sat, he ignored her rolling eyes and headed into the kitchen to make her a plate of food; to be fair to her and her insistences that she wasn't hungry, he kept the portions relatively small, much smaller than he would have normally made even for Teddy. "Here, eat." He placed the plate in front of her and sat beside her, watching with narrowed eyes as she reluctantly picked up her fork and slowly began to eat. He sighed in relief when after a few bites and relaxed completely when she picked up her pace a little. "Hungrier than you thought?"
She shot him a half-hearted glare and he smirked at her. "Christian, please don't be upset with Sawyer," she told him a few minutes later.
His eyebrows rose. "Why?"
"Because what happened with Teddy was an accident. He told you himself that he was playing around on the stairs and he got himself hurt."
Christian's jaw tensed; they were back to this already. "And where were you?" he asked more coldly than he'd intended.
She stopped chewing her food and just stared at her plate. "Outside having a cup of tea with Gail," she admitted resignedly.
He took a deep breath and held it for a moment, trying to control his temper. He'd known it. She wasn't around when their son had needed her and look what had happened. Accident, his mind reminded himself over and over.
But if she'd been in the fucking house, she'd have caught him playing around on the fucking stairs and he'd have never fallen down.
Ana was gazing about him fearfully, waiting for him to start screaming at her. He hadn't ruled it out just yet. "Finish your dinner," he muttered, standing from the table and walking away before he did or said something he'd regret. When he returned to the dining room only a few minutes later, he found her chair empty—again.
"Fuck," he growled, taking her plate into the kitchen and depositing it in the sink so forcefully that it nearly broke. He didn't know if she'd gone back to bed or went somewhere else, but he did know that if he sought her out again, things would not end well. So instead, he did what he did best when he was angry and frustrated: he went into his office and took care of work.
Next morning, knowing nothing had been resolved between her and her husband and wondering if he'd even come to bed the night before, Ana got up, showered and dressed, then headed down to the kitchen. She had just enough time to have a quick breakfast with her family—if Christian hadn't already left—before her appointment with Dr. Flynn. She felt exhausted just thinking about everything she'd have to discuss with him that morning—everything from her talks with Christian over the weekend, to Roger's sudden appearance, to Teddy's broken arm. And immediately following that meeting—which would undoubtedly leave her feeling emotional and vulnerable—she had an appointment with Carrick to discuss Jack Hyde's upcoming trial and that was almost as terrifying as facing Flynn and Christian at the same time.
In the dining room, both Christian and Teddy were at the table. She hung back a little for a moment, watching as Christian apparently signed his son's cast. Teddy was giggling about something and Ana felt herself moving forward to see what Christian was doing to cause that lovely sound. It seemed her husband was attempting—and failing—at being an artist. Teddy giggled as his father drew a little house with a stick figure family standing beside it and a little sun hanging above them. Ana grinned, thinking Teddy probably could have drawn a better picture on his own cast with his off hand than his father was doing.
Teddy looked up and grinned widely at her. "Look, Mommy, Daddy's decorating my cast," he announced happily.
"I see that," she replied, running her fingers through his copper hair. "It's a lovely picture."
Christian paused in his drawing and gave Ana a skeptical look. "You don't have to lie, Ana," he told her sardonically.
"What makes you think I'm lying?" she replied, sitting on Teddy's other side and reaching to the center of the table for the bowl of fresh fruit and one with granola and yogurt. She caught a small, satisfied smile on her husband's face as she spooned out her breakfast into a bowl. "I almost want to break my own arm so I can look at a pretty drawing like that for the next six weeks."
Christian glared at her. "Don't even think about it," he warned in a growl that made Teddy look between them questioningly.
Ana put a smile on her face for Teddy's benefit and started on her breakfast. "How is your arm feeling, Teddy?" she asked in order to change the subject.
"It's good," Teddy told her simply, using his free arm to spoon cereal into his mouth. "Doesn't hurt like I thought it would."
"I'm glad," Ana told him warmly.
"What are you plans for the day, Anastasia?" Christian asked abruptly, putting a stop on mother/son bonding for the moment.
With a sigh, Ana took a bite of her yogurt before answering. "I have an appointment with Dr. Flynn, then with your father," she told Christian lightly. "I should be home by early afternoon..."
Christian nodded. "I'll be home late," he informed her, finishing up Teddy's cast. "Don't hold dinner for me..." Ana nodded disappointedly. "And I'd like the two of us to have a conversation when I do get home."
"Really?" Ana asked, raising an eyebrow.
Christian's eyes narrowed on her. "Do you have a problem with that?" he asked coolly.
Biting back the response of am I allowed to have a problem with that?, Ana shook her head silently and continued on with her breakfast. Only a few minutes later, having finished his own breakfast, Christian stood to leave for work. "Be good for Mrs. Taylor today, Teddy," he told his son sternly, though his lips were twitching into a teasing smile as he leaned down to kiss Teddy's forehead. He gave Ana a small, uncertain smile and started to leave for work.
"Aren't you going to kiss Mommy, Daddy?" Teddy asked, turning around in his chair.
Christian froze mid-step and turned around, looking like a deer in headlights. Ana raised a challenging eyebrow at him, causing to raise his own in response, his eyes sparkling with intent. "Of course, Teddy, where are my manners this morning?" Without hesitating anymore, he closed the distance between them, bent down, and kissed his wife in a way that left her breathing heavily and wanting more. "Have a good day, Mrs. Grey," he told her in his husky, breathless voice.
"You, too," Ana squeaked. Smirking, Christian winked at Teddy and left Ana fanning herself with her hand. She couldn't recall the last time he'd kissed her like that when it wasn't leading directly to sex—it'd been at least a year—and suddenly wished her day out was over and Christian was back home with her so he could finish what he'd started.
"Wanna sign my cast, Mommy?" Teddy asked, jolting her out of her thoughts.
She blinked several times. "Of course I do, baby..."
The appointment with Dr. Flynn had gone better than Ana could have possibly anticipated. For the first time in days, she found herself talking without thinking, telling Flynn everything that came into her mind; she couldn't even recall whether he'd gotten more than a dozen words in the time they were together. She admitted her guilt at what Christian had put himself through during her absence—she felt responsible for him nearly killing himself. She felt guilty for Christian having to witness her nightmare that night on The Grace—she could still recall the look of horror and pain on his face as he listened to everything she told him. She admitted to her fear about Roger resurfacing and what it might mean for her family. She felt terrible for Teddy's accident and wished she could take away all his pain.
She talked so much that Flynn retrieved a few bottles of water for her because her throat was so dry then watched in amusement as she gulped down both bottles in under a minute. By then, their time was up, but Flynn reminded her they also had an appointment on Thursday and could continue their discussion then.
"In the meantime, however," Flynn said as Ana began to grab her things to leave, "I really want you to try and be more open with Christian rather than closing yourself off all the time. You've both got to work on yourselves in order to fix the things that are broken between you, but in order to work on yourselves you've got to be open with one another. It's a two-way street; I've told Christian exactly the same thing. This weekend was a wonderful start to all that and if things keep on like this, I'm confident the two of you will get back to where you want to be. I've also suggested to Christian that the two of you might consider coming in for a few sessions together, clear the air in neutral location. Think about it."
Ana was thinking about it as she left the office and got into the waiting car, smiling briefly at Sawyer as he held open the door for her. The neutral location thing for clearing the air was certainly appealing. At the house, she and Christian were on egg shells with each other almost constantly, especially when Teddy was awake, and she never knew what might set off his temper, so she tended to keep her mouth shut. Even when Christian seemed to want to say something to her, he held back, not wanting to upset her either.
The whole thing was giving her a headache and in a dark way, she actually looked forward to her meeting with Carrick—the things she would be telling him would be straightforward, but also wouldn't require much thinking. It would be painfully embarrassing, but at least she wouldn't be stressing herself out over thoughts of Christian.
With a sigh, she rested her head on the back of the seat and turned to look outside the car window as Sawyer drove them to Carrick's office. She watched distractedly as cars flew past them, noted that the weather was turning grayer and drearier, which seemed to fit her mood, and wondered how much more of this she could take. Despite telling her he wanted to get past all of this and move on, Christian seemed to be reverting to his angry-all-the-time mood. Whether he was worried about Teddy or Roger or whatever else might be going on in his mind, he tended to direct his negative feelings at her.
The car stopped at a long red light and Ana found herself looking into the window of another car, and her heart stopped beating. Sitting in the driver's seat of the SUV beside them was Roger, curled lip smile and cigarette hanging out of his mouth. She gasped in fear.
"Mrs. Grey?" Sawyer said concernedly from the front seat.
Ana looked over at him, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror, blinked a few times, and looked back at the other car. Her confusion mounted when she saw not Roger, but a young blonde woman chatting away on her cell phone. The light turned green and Sawyer put his foot on the gas, still looking at Ana through the mirror. "I'm fine, Sawyer," she told him, her voice shaking. "Just a little tired, I suppose..."
Sawyer nodded and turned his eyes back to the road, though Ana knew, even as she turned her own eyes back out the window, he was glancing at her every few minutes or so. Okay, so that had been a hallucination. It had been undoubtedly brought on by her over-emotional state and the constant fear she'd had ever since Christian had told her Roger was around.
Get a grip on yourself, Grey, her subconscious told her firmly, before you drive yourself into an early grave...
Easier said than done...
