A Promise Kept

Chapter 10

Sylvia noted that as they had exited Recovery and traveled down the corridor towards the elevator, despite his visible struggle to contain the nausea, Steve's eyes were searching the corridor around him. She didn't have to ask who he was looking for, the grip on the fedora spoke all the words that were necessary. She found herself looking too, almost hoping for the young man's sake that Mike would exit the elevator or the door from the stairs and bring some hope and much needed comfort for her patient but there was no sign of the older man. She saw the stark disappointment in his eyes as he seemed to slump more against the pillows and his hand left the fedora, as he appeared to give up his search.

They reached the elevator and Steve's bed was pushed inside. Another vicious wave of nausea struck him and he shuddered violently unable to control it. The porter behind him mistook his shudder for a chill and he felt the blanket being pulled up further towards his neck, which only served to make him feel even more stifled and claustrophobic. The steel doors closed in front of him ... but the sudden jolt as the elevator began moving upwards was the final straw and Steve grabbed Sylvia's hand in alarm as the awful retching began, winning out over Steve's failing strength and willpower.

"DR. LOWELL? ..." Sylvia couldn't help yelling, as she alerted the Doctor to her need of assistance as she positioned the bowl and witnessed the violent expulsion of the meager contents of Steve's stomach.

"Quick, turn him onto his side!"Dr. Lowell instructed as he turned to assist, however the confines of the elevator were proving to be a challenge.

With the help of the porter, they managed to turn Steve as the painful heaving persisted. Each retch caused pain to tear through his chest wound and he seriously regretted having consumed the recent cup of tea, which was really all that resurfaced. The turn onto his side only exacerbated the pain and as the heaving finally subsided, a bout of intense shivering took over. He closed his eyes and tried to ride out the misery as the pain burned and tried to rob him of his breath and he felt so unbearably cold.

The voices around him became louder and more urgent and he strained to make out what they were saying as they blended together, but he could feel a frenzy of activity taking place around him. He was turned back onto his back and was unable to suppress the loud groan of pain that escaped his lips as the chest scar fully protested the side position he had been in. He felt a hand on his forehead and heard Sylvia's voice clearly beside him, the professional voice, definitely laced with concern.

"He's very warm Doctor ..."

The elevator pinged and Steve's bed was pushed without delay out of it and he felt the bed moving at great speed down another corridor. He wanted to yell at them not to go so fast, as his stomach again seemed to protest the speed with which he was being propelled along at, but his voice was refusing to cooperate just yet. He could hear Dr. Lowell's deep, booming voice barking instructions as they went and then Sylvia's quiet voice close to his ear telling him to hold on, and that he was going to be fine. As the painful throbbing in his wound eased a little and the bed seemed to slow to a stop, Steve cracked open his eyes and could just about make out a sign above two double doors that clearly read "CCU".

He heard a buzzing as the doors were opened and again, the speed increased as his bed was pushed forward urgently. He saw Dr. Lowell speaking to a woman who had greeted him inside the double doors and heard his name being mentioned and then he heard the Doctor bark again at the porters to head for room number five. The room number made him shiver even more at the irony of the fact that he was being assigned the same room number he had spent over two weeks in after his initial surgery four weeks ago. He knew every inch of that room, from the the number of ceiling tiles above the bed to the number of painful steps it used to take him after that first tortuous week to get from his bed to the restroom down the corridor. It held painful memories and yet it held a certain familiarity and Steve almost held his breath as a feeling of deja vu washed over him as his bed was pushed through the door and pushed into place.

He found himself looking up and searching for the small rust colored stain on the ceiling tile directly above his head and couldn't help the wry smile that crossed his face as he saw it. An older nurse entered the room and seemed to introduce herself but Steve missed the name she had given. Poor Steve got little respite as another frenzy began as monitors were reconnected and drips were hung back up and the cold thermometer arrived back under his right arm. He jumped from its unexpected arrival and frowned. Why couldn't they at least give him some warning before they placed that thing! He was feeling very drained and tired all of a sudden and wished the many hands that were working around him would just leave him be. He saw the older nurse remove Mike's coat from the bed and as she went to take the fedora, he started to panic but before he could get any words to form, he heard Sylvia's voice clearly from beside him.

"Rita, you can leave the hat please ..."

Steve smiled at her understanding but his smile faded as he heard the Doctor's voice boom again.

"Sylvia, thanks for the help. You can go back downstairs to Recovery now. "

Another wave of panic washed over Steve at the Doctor's words as he was losing the one person who seemed to understand him. Sylvia turned and leaned down to speak softly to him.

"Steve, I'm afraid I have to head back downstairs but you're in very good hands up here now. Rita is an excellent Cardiac nurse, one of the best in the Department. She'll take good care of you ... but you must tell her what you're feeling and do what she tells you, ok?"

Steve nodded and saw Sylvia's smile widen as she spoke this time with a touch of humor in her voice.

"Steve? You're going to have let go of my hand now ..."

Steve's cheeks reddened visibly as he hadn't realized that he still had a firm grip on the kind nurse's hand since the painful episode in the elevator. He loosened his grip but felt reluctant to let it go fully. He spoke between the shivers, a touch of insecurity definitely evident in his words.

"Do you ... have to go ... right now?"

There was something about this patient today that made Sylvia reluctant to leave also but the stern look that Dr. Lowell was sending in her direction told her she had no real choice in the matter. Sylvia again smiled and squeezed the hand that was refusing to release hers fully.

"Yes, I'm afraid so but ... don't think you've seen the last of me Steve Keller. I can see I'm going to have to come back up here and make sure you're doing as Rita tells you. Besides ... Someone has to be there to tell Mike where to go to find you when he comes back."

Steve had smiled at her initial words but at the mention of Mike his smile vanished again as he stared down at the fedora and wondered if Mike had gone to work as he had told him to and just not come back to tell him. But that wasn't like Mike. He had said he would be back and so he WOULD be back. UNLESS something bad had happened? Maybe something had happened to Jeannie! OH GOD! That would explain why he had left in such a hurry. Steve felt his heart race and then heard the monitor pick up as he did. Sylvia immediately spoke again, fearing that her having to leave was affecting her patient.

"Steve? Calm down ... Everything's going to be alright. I promise you ... "

Steve saw the Doctor studying the heart monitor and feared another sedative would be administered if he didn't try to stop getting worked up, so he took slow breaths to try and stave off the worry that was now threatening to consume him on top of everything else. Everyone kept promising him things were going to be ok but Steve couldn't help wondering how they ever could be again? Nothing was going right. He felt the nurse squeeze his hand again and looked up at her.

"Steve ... I have to go ..."

Steve released her hand reluctantly and smiled bravely.

"Ok ... Thanks ... for everything ..."

"You're welcome ... You hang in there, ok?"

Steve nodded and watched as she turned and spoke to the older nurse briefly and then he followed her movement around the bed and watched as she exited the room. His heart sank and his chest burned but this time he wasn't quite sure if it was from where he had hurt it while vomiting or from the feeling of loss and misery he felt in his current circumstances. He found his hand reaching for the fedora once more as his stare automatically returned to the spot on the ceiling as he remembered all the other times he had stared at that spot in an equal amount of pain and misery in the initial days after the shooting. Only at least then Jeannie had been there, a constant and loyal companion. He turned his head to the left and saw the familiar visitor chair where Jeannie had sat and kept her constant vigil. He could still picture her there in his mind's eye, her smile that had brightened up the sterile room, her gentle hand that had held his even as he had slept, bringing welcome comfort and hope a midst his pain and despair. Now she could be in trouble of some kind and he was none the wiser. He closed his eyes to try and block out the memories this room was bringing back. A hand removing the thermometer made him reopen them and glance towards the older nurse that was now at his side.

Her warm and friendly face looked vaguely familiar but he wasn't sure from where. She smiled and laid a gentle hand on his arm before reading the thermometer and relaying the result back to the Doctor. He redirected his gaze towards the Doctor's reaction and the serious expression spoke volumes. His fever was still causing a problem although Steve hadn't really needed visual confirmation of that fact as he could feel it setting his forehead on fire while the rest of his body remained chilled to the bone.

"Temperature still up ... Huh?" he weakly croaked.

The nurse nodded and placed her hand on his brow as she did.

"Yes, you're burning up but we'll soon have it back down. I'm Rita and I'll be taking care of you for this shift. So turn that frown upside down and don't you worry my dear ..." She said as she fetched a wet cloth and proceeded to mop his brow with it. It brought him some cool comfort but her phrase also clicked a memory into place. He remembered a voice that had spoken to him after his initial surgery. It had said the same thing to him as the pain had been at its worst. He tried to remember the face that had accompanied the voice but the pain he was in at the time fogged his memory ... but the voice had been very similar to Rita's.

"Have I ... met you before? " he asked, studying Rita's face that was now right above him as she continued to sponge his brow.

Again her smile widened and she answered.

"I didn't think you'd remember. You were very ill the last time we met. You were only back from surgery a few hours. You had two very loyal and worried visitors as I recall. "

Two? Steve thought curiously. Then he remembered that Mike had been there briefly when he had woken at first, before his voice had been of any use to him. He shuddered again as a chill washed over him but he had a feeling it had more to do with the feelings that had been awakened recalling that moment in time. His chest had felt like a truck was sitting on it, excruciating pain that he never wanted to ever feel again in his life. Every breath had felt like it was setting fire to his lungs and he recalled the drug induced stupor that had been effectively dulling his brain.

Jeannie's face had been the first one he had seen upon forcing his eyes open and even behind the medical mask he had recognized those two blue eyes, sparkling and smiling even though they glistened with fresh tears. Hey babe! she had uttered and he remembered the emotion that her words had evoked. He had desperately wanted to reply but finding himself unable to get his voice to work he had only managed to mime the words on his lips instead. He remembered the struggle to try and turn his head to search for Mike and how again he had only managed to turn his eyes and how relieved he had been and happy to see the older man beside his bed and again vividly recalled the blue eyes that searched his and spoke wordlessly of the relief and joy that filled him at the fact that Steve was still alive. He had seen the older man wink at him and again recalled how much energy it had taken to just wink back in his direction in his weakened state. He hadn't been able to remain awake for long as the drugs quickly pulled him away too fast from the two people he needed to see and he remembered the grip that both had on his hands and how they tightened as he had slipped back into unconsciousness.

The following couple of days had been blurry at best. Snippets of consciousness and memories he felt at this stage were highly questionable considering the high doses of morphine that were regularly administered and the lack of coherent thought that had accompanied his waking moments. It was strange. He remembered all the invasive procedures quite well, the needles, the tortuous cleaning of his raw looking wound, all the things that had rudely woken him up, time after time, and yet he barely recalled any conversations that might have taken place but there was one other important thing he that he did remember. How Mike's visits had stopped and yet Jeannie's remained constant. Always there when his eyes opened, always smiling and encouraging, telling him that Mike had called. So many phone messages of support from Mike but no physical presence. A presence he had longed for but one that never came.

Steve had tried to understand. Mike had gone off on a sole, rage driven mission to bring Ross to justice for what she had done to Steve and to rescue the kidnapped jury. He had seen that intensity in Mike many times before but none so heart rendering as when he had gone after the killer of his old partner Gus Charnovski. He could vividly recall the goosebumps that had risen on him as Mike had pointed the gun at his suspect on the deserted underground platform of the BART station. For several seconds Steve had feared that he would shoot as the blue eyes he looked into burned with hatred and grief. Then he remembered how he had caught Mike's eye and Mike had seemed to change in an instant, his blood thirsty revenge had faded on seeing his young partner, fearful of his intended action and he had pulled himself back together and instructed Steve to get the suspect out of his sight. Steve's heart that day had taken a good many minutes to stop hammering in his chest after that incident and even now as he recalled it, he heard the heart monitor pick up from mere memory recall as he also felt his eyes become moist at the tortured memories that were coming too fast and a little too vividly for his comfort.

"Easy now Steve ... "

Rita's voice broke through his memory induced trance and she looked at him with sympathetic eyes as if she could somehow read his hidden thoughts. He breathed deeply again to stop his heart rate from increasing but that only caused his scar to throb even more.

Before she had a chance to say anything comforting, Dr. Lowell seemed to finish writing in his chart and came back towards the bed. Frustrated by Steve's continuing fever, he caught Steve by surprise as he pulled the warm blanket off him. Steve tried to make a grab for it but his responses were too slow.

"No ... Please ... Don't take that ... It's cold ..."

"Sorry Steve. We have to get that fever down. The blanket will just keep you from cooling. It's plenty warm in here. "

As Steve felt the sudden cold the removed blanket had caused and shivered accordingly he subconsciously wrapped his arms around his chest. To his added horror Dr. Lowell picked up Mike's fedora and removed it from his bed. Steve opened his mouth to protest and then thought better of it. The clinical Doctor wouldn't understand how he could be drawing comfort from such a trivial thing and so not wanting to appear foolish he simply watched uncomfortably as the fedora was carelessly deposited on the far side of the room, on the windowsill unceremoniously. Then turning back towards him he questioned Steve again.

"We better check your wound again. Did you hurt it with the vomiting?"

"It was a little sore yeah ..."

The Doctor started opening the buttons on his pajama top and Steve resisted the urge to flinch. Instead of looking down at the dressing ,he purposefully looked back up at the stained ceiling tile, trying desperately to keep his breathing as even as slow as he could. He felt the fabric come fully undone and shivered again as his skin became exposed to the air. Then the Doctor's words drew his attention.

"Rita. This will need to be cleaned again ..."

He risked a look down and saw a yellowish and red streaked stain on the freshly changed dressing and instantly regretted his bravery as his stomach churned and he looked back towards the window, inwardly cursing his continued relentless run of bad luck.

He heard Dr. Lowell issuing instructions to Rita about the amount of pain relieving, temperature reducing medication he was to be given.

"If that doesn't start reducing his temperature in the next half hour he's to be given an all over body lukewarm sponge bath ..."

Steve almost choked as he heard those words and stammered accordingly.

"An all over WHAT? ..."

Rita could see her patient becoming restless and intervened.

"Steve don't fret now. It won't come to that. The medication should bring it down. "

Steve was at the end of his tether. Feeling chilled, sick, emotional and worried about Mike and Jeannie with the threat of another wound cleaning, and a possible humiliating sponge bath hanging over him he wanted nothing else but to get out of the bed there and then and escape back to his apartment in Union Street as quickly as possible but in his weakened and fevered state, he knew he would be lucky to make it as far as the door. Right now all he really needed to know was that Jeannie was alright and that she wasn't the reason Mike was missing.

"Doctor ... Can I ... make a phone call please? "

"Not now Steve. You need to rest ... There'll be plenty of time to make phone calls when we get your temperature sorted. Right now you need to follow instructions and take it easy."

Doc, I NEED to make a phone call ... You don't understand ... "

"STEVE ... I said NO ... The nurse here can make any phone calls you need her to ... Now you're under strict instructions to REST. I don't want you doing anything that's going to make your fever go up any higher. Is that understood?"

Steve nodded, knowing that he was not going to get any leeway from the Doctor. He slumped back against the pillows miserably but just as he thought his luck was never going to change, a second nurse appeared at the door and called to Dr. Lowell.

"Doctor, they're calling for you down in the theater. Catherine says that your next angiogram patient is ready."

The Doctor scowled and looked at his watch.

"Thank you Mary. Tell them I'm on my way. "

As the second nurse disappeared, Dr. Lowell patted Steve's arm.

"Steve I have to go to theater now but I'll be back up to check on you later on. Try not to worry. We'll get you sorted and REMEMBER! REST, alright?"

Steve nodded again and watched as the Doctor left the room and then turned to stare at Rita as she closed the door behind the Doctor and spoke humorously.

"Well thank goodness for that. I'd thought he was never going to leave! Dr. Lowell is the best and most experienced Cardiovascular Surgeon we have ever had in this Hospital but sometimes his bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired. Now ... let's get you more comfortable, shall we?"

He smiled at her comments and stayed watching her curiously as she came over and buttoned back up his top and then brought a clean crisp white sheet over and covered him with it. It wasn't as heavy as the first warm blanket but it was better than nothing and he was grateful to the older nurse for it. He then swallowed hard as he watched her walk to the window and fetch the fedora and bringing it back over, she placed it on the bed beside him. He smiled and mumbled gratefully.

"Thanks ... "

"You're welcome. I could see it meant something to you. Now let's get you your meds and with any luck they'll start to make you more comfortable and bring down that fever of yours."

He watched as she disconnected one of his drips and preparing a syringe she injected it into the cannula, before reconnecting the IV. Then finally she took the phone and placed it on the bed beside him, next to Mike's fedora.

"Now you make your phone call dear while I go and get supplies to clean your wound. You just have to ask the operator to get you your number. If you need me before then just ring the bell beside your bed, ok?"

"Ok ... Thanks ... I appreciate it ..."

She smiled warmly and tucked his sheet around him before picking up Steve's chart and leaving the room.

Steve looked at the phone anxiously before finally gathering his courage and picking up the receiver and tucking it against his ear.

"Hi ... I need you to connect me to an Arizona number please? ..."