CHAPTER TEN
Callen shifted uncomfortably in the darkness, taking a moment or two to remember where he was. It was darker and quieter than he'd come to be used to of late. Sam's house. Sam's study, on the pull out sofa bed that had been upgraded from the worn old couch when he had come to stay not all that long ago to recuperate from the Spiral virus. He seemed to have spent a large amount of time recuperating in Sam's house, what with one thing and another. Sam and Michelle assured him they didn't mind, repeatedly, but it never stopped him feeling like he was imposing on their family and in their home. And this time they had to tolerate the quietly whirring temporary oxygen machine as well. It, along with the tubing that reached round much of the ground floor of the house, had been installed yesterday, while he remained impatiently in the hospital, having the strong antibiotics forced into him via his IV. At least he was finally now rid of that, he thought, itching the plaster on the back of his hand absent-mindedly.
True to her word, Hetty had arranged with his doctor on his evening rounds the day before yesterday, following the removal of the chest drain after the positive scan results, that he could finish the rest of his recovery at Sam's house, but it had taken the whole of the next day to put everything into place, including Callen finishing another 24 hours of the nauseating antibiotics. The follow up oral dose so far wasn't having quite the same effect on him, and he'd managed a small 'meal' of toast and a banana when he finally arrived at Sam's house yesterday evening, before retiring exhausted to the sofa bed for the night. He didn't like to think too much of the traumatic car ride back to Sam's. The hospital had offered an ambulance but Callen had flatly refused. The Challenger, however, wasn't geared towards patient comfort. He'd managed a half-hearted joke cautioning Sam to be careful not to crash and blow them up with the two portable oxygen tanks stowed in the boot, but had spent the rest of the ride with his eyes shut and his jaw clamped tight in pain despite Sam's careful driving.
He still wasn't wearing his watch, but he could see the faintest glimpse of light around the edges of the curtains. Undoubtedly Sam would bounce through the door at 6am sharp with his meds, ever the attentive nurse. Callen felt grateful and uncomfortably awkward in roughly equal amounts. It felt like all Sam was doing at the moment, and by extension now Michelle too, was taking care of him. He hated to feel a burden.
He sighed, rolling onto his side to ease the pain in the back of his ribcage. Now that the crippling fever from the pneumonia had passed, he was starting to feel stronger again. The bruising to his heart had also mostly subsided and his blood pressure was gradually creeping back to a more normal range. Apart from the pain in his broken rib, the most debilitating symptom now was still his shortness of breath caused by the low oxygenation in his blood. His doctor hadn't been able to confirm how long he'd continue to need the oxygen therapy for. He adjusted the tube in his nose with irritation, debating whether to remove it for a bit, but he decided the wrath of Sam, or worse, Michelle, wasn't worth the risk on only his first morning here, and so he concentrated instead on his breathing exercises while he was comfortable on his side. At least at Sam's house lying on his right side meant he could see the door.
As he had suspected it wasn't long before the door in question opened, a cursory knock announcing Sam's arrival.
"Morning," Sam said, noting with approval Callen lying on his side and doing his exercises.
"Morning yourself," Callen replied, pushing himself up so he was sitting, leaning back against the wall.
"Comfortable enough?" Sam asked, gesturing to the bed. "Did you sleep?"
"It's fine, Sam," Callen assured him.
"I've got your morning meds," Sam said, unnecessarily Callen thought, for he could see the glass of juice and box of tablets in Sam's hands. Sam put the items down and rounded to the window, drawing the curtains slightly to allow the daylight to brighten the small room. Callen squinted a little; he still had a dull headache most of the time, though it was better since he'd got out of the hospital and away from all the constant noise and bustle.
"Thanks." Sam looked at him suspiciously, checking for signs of sarcasm. "What?"
"You're being way too cooperative," Sam teased, a grin forming on his face.
"Wouldn't want to upset Mother Hen 1 and… Mother Hen 2 now, would I?"
"How are you feeling? Honestly?" Sam sat on his desk chair, passing Callen the tablets and the juice, which he took without complaint. He hoped Sam had missed the way his hand trembled slightly as he took the glass.
"Better. Honestly," he added, seeing Sam's sceptical look.
"We'll see," Sam muttered, drawing out a thermometer, blood pressure cuff and oximeter from a box on the desk. Callen rolled his eyes.
"The attractiveness of the nurses has… gone downhill in this hospital," he teased, panting a little which Sam noted with pursed lips and a frown.
"I'll tell Michelle you said that. Now open your mouth like a good little patient." Reluctantly, Callen obeyed, feeling Sam was rather too cheerful about this nursing lark as he shoved the thermometer under Callen's tongue, and used the time since Callen couldn't protest to wrap the cuff round his arm and clip the oximeter on his finger to check his blood pressure and oxygen levels.
"And?" Callen challenged, when Sam was done.
"Oxygen is still low, but temp and BP aren't too bad," Sam admitted, starting to believe Callen was telling the truth that he was indeed feeling better.
"I told you."
"Yeah… but you told me you were fine when you woke up with five bullet holes in you. Told ME to go home and rest because I looked like crap."
"Well, you did."
"At least I wasn't wrapped in bandages like some crazy Halloween mummy."
"Fair point." Changing the topic, he asked cheekily, "What's the plan for today, Nurse Sam? Are you gonna… let me get up? If I have to spend another day in bed…"
"You'll get the rest you need," Sam interrupted. Callen glared at him. "Yeah, you can get up. WITH help. Don't make me get Nurse Michelle, or worse, Nurse Hetty, on your case. Until those oxygen levels pick up you're at a high risk of dizziness and fainting, and I do NOT want to have to scoop you up off the floor again, you hear me?"
"Like you're gonna let me forget it," Callen muttered.
"Michelle is sorting breakfast. You want to shower first?"
"I guess so," Callen replied, awkward again.
"G," Sam said, sensing it. "It's not a problem. Let me help you." Callen nodded, swallowing his pride as Sam helped him up with a gentleness that was deceptive from the size and strength of him. Sam held his right arm firmly while he stumbled to the shower room, and helped him clean up and dress in sweat pants and a fresh t-shirt. Although he hated that he still needed the oxygen, it felt good to wear clothes again, almost as good as it felt to be out of the hospital, to not be bothered incessantly with people checking up on him and…
"How are you doing this morning, Callen?" Michelle asked him cheerily as Sam helped him walk to the kitchen and sit at the table.
"Good, thanks," he answered politely.
"Can I get you a tea, coffee? Juice? How about some breakfast?"
"Just… tea. Thanks."
Sam looked at him sternly. "You need to eat something too, G."
"Give him a few minutes," his wife said to him quietly, noticing how worn out Callen was from getting up and showering. Callen smiled at her gratefully.
"Well you two have clearly got this covered," Sam said. "I'm nipping out for a quick run and a shower. You," he turned bossily to Callen, "don't move til I get back. Eat something. And don't annoy Michelle."
The room seemed quiet when Sam had gone, except for Callen's laboured breathing as he sipped the hot tea, holding the mug in both hands with his elbows resting on the table. Michelle moved about her kitchen, keeping a surreptitious eye on him, before finally sitting opposite him with a bowl of granola and fruit.
"He's worried about you," she said, watching him as she ate.
"I'm fine."
"I'm sure you will be. But let him indulge a little in his over-protectiveness. He still feels like he let you down, with the gas, and Henderson."
"Michelle…." Callen was at a loss for words. "He saved my life."
"You know what he's like. He wanted to save you from all this…" she gestured to the oxygen tubing. "He wasn't quick enough. He feels guilty."
"He saved my life," Callen repeated stubbornly. "I owe him."
"Yeah… Just like you'll save his life, next time. And he'll owe you again." Callen pondered on that for a moment.
"Neither of us owe anything," he said eventually. "Happy? No guilt. Tell him to… stop worrying."
Michelle chuckled. "I can try," she said with a smile tugging at her lips and twinkling in her eyes. "But you and I both know, he'll never stop worrying. Deal with it."