Marriage Material – Chapter 10 Ospadal (Hospital)
Claire POV
"Claire, lass, are you ok? Can ya hear me?" a voice asked with a strange, almost scared pitch to it. My eyes flickered open and immediately shut. Too bright. Everything hurt from my head to my toes. I opened my eyes again and promptly close them. I tried to roll my head to the side. It made me dizzy to move.
"She's awake," the same tenor voice said with what sounds like relief in his voice. "Stay with the lass, I'll go and fetch the doctor, aye? I'll be right back."
"Thanks," a second voice replied. He spoke with richness and texture in his baritone voice and wonderful Scottish lilt that made my heart flutter. So lovey to listen to. Like music to my ears. "Sassenach, you're awake," and I felt a warm, hand gently caress my cheek. "I saw the bus... I was so scared 'fer ye... thought I'd lost ya... you're at hospital... No' Joe, they said he went to Boston... but Dr. Campbell says you'll be fine... concussion and a broken arm... they'll have to put ye in a cast, for six weeks most likely... " and then I had to stop the voice from speaking. My head was killing me. I squeezed my eyes tightly together and tried to wave my hand, but I could not seem to feel them, move them. I must have waved my fingers for I feel a hand grab them. I was so dizzy... that's the last thing I remembered.
XXCEBXX
I opened one eye and stare at the vision in front of me... A Red Headed, Blue Eyed, Nordic God, looking right at me. Jamie. I closed my eye and tried to lift an hand to my face. My left, I seemed to be able to wiggle my finger and that sent excruciating pains up my arm. My right arm felt like lead. I could feel the IV in the back of the hand yet still managed to move it, so that it now rested on my chest. An herculean effort that exhausted me. The baritone voice stroked my arm. His fingers gentle, soft and warm... "Yer awake Sassenach." followed by a gentle kiss placed on my brow.
I blinked. I started to answer when I realized I'd been intubated, a breathing tube had been inserted down my esophagus. Why? I closed my eyes to squelch my urge to fight it. I concentrated on letting the machine do the work, willing my body to quiet. Don't fight the machine, I told myself. Relax. Let it do the breathing. My eyes still closed, I lifted my finger to my mouth and hoped someone would realize what I needed; that someone would understand I needed the 'ifrinn intubation tube removed.
What I heard was confusion... multiple voices all talking at once. I opened one eye to see a cluster of people enter my vision. So much noise. So loud. My head was spinning, my vision blurred. I squeezed the open eye shut trying to block out the noise and gather my equilibrium. A woman's voice spoke. "Claire," she said. "It's me, Doctor Campbell. Can you open your eyes for me?" I opened the one eye again to see a woman with short black hair and black eyes looking as me while relief washed over her face. "It's nice to have you with us," she said with a smile. "We've been a little worried about you. I'm going to take the breathing tube out, in just a minute... that will allow you to speak. Do you understand me?"
I nodded my head, carefully.
"Good" She said and walked away. I closed my eyes again.
"Oh God Claire. I have never been so glad to see those whisky eyes as I am right now. Ye had me so scare't. Everything's gonna be alright, mo chridhe." My baritone voice said to me. I felt his rather large, rough hand cup my face and the feather touch of a rather coarse thumb as it stroked my cheek. Without thought, I leaned into the comforting gesture. The hand was gentle and careful, like I was made of glass. The touch felt very erotic and made my stomach flip-flop. But then my husband's touch always had that effect on me.
Suddenly, the hand was gone. The Doctor, with her entourage of nurses and aides, returned. I didn't even need to open my eyes to know it. Someone lowered the bed to a supine position and a nurse suctioned my oropharynx dry. I felt the Doctor check the pilot balloon on the ETT for some play, making sure it wasn't too tight, then gently, smoothly, slipped the tube from my esophagus . I coughed several times and then attempted to swallow. My hand immediately went to my neck. I removed the neck brace and dropped on the floor. I lifted my chin, stretched my neck and I stroked the length of it, several times. When I opened my eyes, I immediately locked eyes with Jamie, standing at the foot of my bed. He was watching my hand as it stroked my neck, his eyes turning a darker blue with each stroke. He sucked in his bottom lip and bit it, softly.
The look on his face made me moan, softly.
He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment. I felt a large, strong hand find my foot under the sheet and begin to caress it; that same rough, hard thumb rubbing my instep, light fingers working my ankle.
I licked my lips and sighed as I closed my eyes. I wanted him. Badly.
Suddenly I heard a hard thump. Like a rock hitting a brick wall. "What?" I heard Jamie ask with surprise.
"Yoo ken." the tenor replied. "You and the lass make'n goo-goo eyes and moan'n at each other, already. In a room full of people ta boot. Behave and let Doctor Campbell have a look. Geeze," he said and ended with a snort.
I opened my eyes. My father's face smiled back at me as he patted my other foot.
I wiggled my toes in reply.
The room was crowded with people. "Sgiobair deigh leam" (ice chips, please), I managed to croak. No one seemed to pay attention except Murtagh. When I spoke, my father stopped listening to the discussion going on over my bed, and acknowledged my request by looking at me with his head cocked slightly.
"Uisge no deigh, Claire?" He asked. (water or ice)
"Deigh" I repeated then coughed, trying to clear my throat and swallow.
"Aye lass." My father said and patted my foot once more. He turned to a nurse and repeated my request. She nodded her head and left the room. He placed a hand on his godson's shoulder and they spoke, softly to one another. In the middle of a sentence, Jamie blinked at me, then raised an eyebrow and smiled. I melted, in response, into a little puddle of lust.
I returned it with a weak one of my own. God, my head hurt. I closed my eyes again. The room was so bright. Why was everyone shouting? "Cuiribh" I said. (whisper) The talking stopped. Thank Bonnie Prince Charlie.
"Claire, it's me, Nancy Campbell. Could you open your eyes for me, please?"
"Na solais a leòn mo shùilean," I told her. (The light hurts my eyes).
"Gaidhlig, Claire?" My husband asked. "Tha thu a 'bruidhinn Gàidhlig?" (You are speaking Gaelic?)
"Ha, Ha." I laughed sarcastically. "Tha mi a 'bruidhinn Gàidhlig," I replied. (Yes, I speak Gaelic) "Gu dearbh tha mi a 'dèanamh, mar sin a bheil thu." (Of course I do, so are you) What other language would I speak, I thought to myself. We are Scots, after all. "Tha sinn ann an Alba tha?" I asked with one eye open and frustration in my voice. (We are in Scotland, yes?) Praise Bonnie Prince Charlie, what was my husband playing at? "Tha sin nar Frasers, nach eil sinn? Is e an dachaigh againn nache Lallybroch, an duine? Nach mise Thurach Broch Tuarach?" (We are Frasers, are we not? Is our home not Lallybroch, husband? Am I not Lady Broch Tuarach?)
"An duine aice?" O tha is mise a duine agad, mo bhean." He answered, ending in a smile that could light the world. ("Husband? Oh yes, I am your husband, my wife)
My father made the most darivative of noises. He looked at my husband in complete disbelief then knocked him in the shoulder.
My co-worker, Dr. Campbell, shooed everyone out, pulling the screen closed around us. There was a great deal of discussion about whether my husband could stay but in the end, he was made to leave as well, but not before planting a lingering kiss on my lips
"Bidh mi dìreach a-muigh ma bhios feum agad orm Claire." (I'll be right outside the curtain if ye need me, Claire) His hand rested on my cheek for a moment, giving it a gentle caress with his finger. He allowed the same hand to then brush down my arm as he walked away, almost gaving me an orgasam with that single motion. "Mùthaidhean" (Wow) I whispered as he reached the curtain. "Feumaidh sinn cuid de naoidheanan a dhèanamh, mo chridhe." (We need to make some babies, my heart)
Jamie turned and looked at me. "Aye, mo chridhe, bidh sinn a 'dèanamh" He said with a smile. (Yes, my heart, we do) It was the most personal of half smiles, like we'd just had carnal knowledge of each other and enjoyed it, greatly. He walked back with those darkening blue eyes fastened on my dull brown ones, rested his hands on the pillow on either side of my head and said, "Bidh sinn. Tha mi a 'gealltainn dhut sin. Chan eil ach ùine againn a-nis, Sassenach" and gently kissed me on the lips with such promise. (We will. I promise you that. We have nothing but time now, Sassenach) It made my toes curl again. I rolled my head back into the pillow and sighed as he left behind the curtain. I checked out his ass as he walked away. Mighty fine. And all mine.
The good doctor checked my chart, listened to my heart and breathing, poked me everywhere humanly possible and flashed a wicked light in my eyes. Questions, so many damn questions. Does this hurt? Does that? Follow my finger. Did it hurt to move my arm? I nodded yea or ney in reply to every question. Everything I moved hurt like 'ifrinn hell. Except for my lips. Where my husband had kissed me, I felt no pain.
"How many fingers am I holding up Claire?" Dr. Campbell asked with four fingers of her left hand in front of my face.
"Gu dearbh? Ceithir corragan Dotair." I stated and raised an eyebrow at her. (Really? Four fingers Doctor.)
"Dè a tha ann am IV? Saline?" I asked. (What is in the IV?). A simple enough question for any doctor to answer. Dr. Campbell looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language.
She smiled at me and said, "I need to bring in one of your Gaelic speaking friends to translate, Claire. I do not speak or understand the language. I did not realize you did either. Would you mind?"
Tha cuiribh. Bu mhath leam bruidhinn ris an duine agam fhèin agus m'athair cuideachd. Tapadh leat," I said with a smile. (Yes please. I would like to speak to my husband and my father as well. Thank you). "Dh'fhaodadh agam rudeigin seo airson ceann goirt? Tha e gu math goirt." (Could I have something for this headache? It is very painful). I asked as I rubbed my temples.
"Just one minute, Claire, I'll be right back. Dr. Campbell opened the curtain to leave and my husband was standing right there and our eyes meet and we both smiled. Dr. Campbell could not get passed him if she'd wanted to. "Look, I need one of you two to translate what she's saying." I knew my father must be there as well.
Both of my men pushed passed the doctor and walked to the bed. Jamie carefully took hold of the hand with the IV. With his other hand he stroked my hair.
"Do you speak English, Claire?" Murtagh asked.
"Yes, father." I replied with a weak smile. "You taught me English."
Murtagh coughed.
Jamie snorted.
And a look of mirth was passed between them.
"Remind me why we speak Gàidhlig, Claire." Jamie asked.
"Bidh sinn an-còmhnaidh a 'bruidhinn a duine Gàidhlig. Is e an cànan dùthchasach againn." I replied while rolling my eyes at him. (We always speak Gaelic husband. It is our native tongue). "A bheil sin carson a tha thu ag iarraidh orm Claire, seach Sorcha? Airson an t-Sasannach ann an Sasannach? (Is that why you are calling me Claire, rather that Sorcha? For the English Doctor's sake?).
My two men exchanged another look merriment and then Murtagh smiled. "Weel, could we converse in English, for now, Sorcha?" and father's smile widened. "For the sake of the wee doctor that can'na understand us Scots when we speak in Gaelic, daughter." He chuckled, shoulders bouncing with haliarity.
Jamie knocked him in the shoulder and gave him a look I did not really understand. They had a short burst of an exchange. It consisted of facial expressions, eyebrow gestures and thumping the other on the shoulder over the course of the conversation. Something about wife verse daughter. I did not catch it all, but is was most definately about me. My father, who is also Jamie's godfather, and my husband seemed to do this bit of back and forth banter quite often. Funny, I'd never noticed it before.
"Fine. In English then." I cut in.
They both stopped their private little war.
"First," and I turned to the doctor. "May I have something for my head? I have a spliting headache. Some water as well, please. Next, what, exactly, is in this IV you have me hooked up to? Third, why am I here? What's wrong with me?"
The good doctor replied, "First - Yes, I will have the nurse bring you water and something for your headache. Not a problem. She brought you ice chips and handed me a syrofoam cup and a spoon. Second – The IV is basically a Saline solution to keep you hydrated. Third – You were trasported in. You were hit by a bus. Your head hit both the bus and the pavement fairly solidly, leaving you with bi-lateral head lacerations that required stitches. I am thinking there was definately a concussion involved. Knocked out cold and broke your arm as well, a simple break of the humerus. You scared the Major and the Captain half to death, I think," as she nodded to my husband and father, "as well as us here at hospital. We are in the process of admitting you. Does that help answer some of your questions?" the doctor said with a smile and patted my hand.
"How long have I been here?" I asked and looked at Dr. Campbell.
"Almost half a day, Claire." Doctor Campbell stated. "Transport brought you and the Major in at 11:23 am. It's..."
"'Tis 8:06 pm now, lass. Why? Are ye hungry?" Murtagh inquired. "I could get ye a cup of tea, if ye'd like. Some biscuits..."
"Oh, that does sound lovely." I anwered and smiled at my father. "Though I think I would prefer a bannock. I might when I get to my room, for now I am happy with the ice chips."
"Could you please remove the IV?" I asked politely as I spooned in several ice chips. I allowed them to melt and then swallowed.
"I would like to leave it in until the bag is empty, then not a problem. I'll make mention of it to the floor nurse." Dr. Campbell explained.
"I assume a more permenant, plaster cast will be placed at some point today?" I spooned in several more chips and chewed a couple this time. Breaking them into smaller sizes, then swalllowed. My throat was begining to feel less parched, less raspy.
"Yes, I would have the on-call orthopaedist would have been in to see you by now. I'll have one of the nurses follow up on that." Dr. Brown said. "Anything else then?" and she scanned the room.
"Good, then Claire, if you don't mind, I would just like to clarify something. Major Fraser... " Dr. Campbell began.
"Jamie." I reminded her of his name.
"Yes, Jamie. He is your husband?"
"Yes. Most definately." And I looked at Jamie and smiled.
My husband did his winky-blinky thing in reply. God I loved my husband, and my smile grew.
"And Captain Fraser? You believe he is your father?"
"No" I said with a furrowed brow.
"Oh?" said Dr. Campbell as Jamie and Murtagh knitted their brows in confusion.
"No, I do not believe. I know Murtagh FitzGibbons Fraser is my father." I clarified.
Murtagh snorted and smiled as he rocked back on his heels. Such a proud, honored smile he wore. My father loved me very much.
"I see." Dr. Cambell said. "Do you remember when you were married?"
I thought for a moment. "I remember the small church. I remember my father walked me down the aisle" and I smiled at Murtagh. I thought again. "I remember you" I said looking at Jamie, "You and Murtagh wore your Fraser colors. You looked so handsome, Jamie. It melted my heart to see you. I practically ran down the aisle..." I closed my eyes at the memory. "I carried the forget-me-nots you sent to me that morning, instead of my bouquet... "
And my husband stopped me with a kiss. Another toe curler. And when he began to pull away, I grabbed him by the shirt and made him deepened the kiss.
My father cleared his throat.
And when Jamie finally pulled away, I could see he didn't want the kiss to ever end and sadness filled his eyes. "No please... Murtagh. Don't." Jamie turned and beseached his godfather. "It's alright... Please Doctor, she's fine." He turned to Dr. Campbell and implored. "My Claire is fine... it's all good... "
"Jamie, lad, ye ken..." Murtagh began.
Dr. Campbell intrupted. "Claire, I would like to have a word with... Jamie... and Captain Fraser. Would you mind if I took them up to my office? I'll have them back to you before your cast dries... Before they move you to your room... I promise." She smiled a smile that I did not like. There was something untruthful about it. About her whole face, her entire demenor.
"Could you give us a minute Doctor?" Jamie asked very politely. "I just want to reasure my wife. I believe she is a little frighten. She has, after all just been in a serious accident. Murtagh and I will meet you at the nurses station, in just a minute. Please." He said and gave her the look that makes any woman putty in his hands.
Dr. Campbell's eyes shifted between the three of us and I could see she was uneasy about leaving us alone...
My father said, "'Tis alright Doctor. We just want a moment alone with the lass. It will give ye a chance to find out about the cast and such." He raised his eyebrows at her. Dr. Campbell acquecended, turned and left my little area, opening the curtain wide as she could as she left. There would be a clear view from the nurses station.
XXCEBXX
Jamie POV
"Claire... You know I love you. With all my heart..." I begged her to understand.
"Yes Jamie. And I you." Claire told me with her glass face full of the love I ken she held for me. Finally, FINALLY she was showing me her heart. Her truth. And the Doctor thought something was wrong.
"Jamie, lad.." My godfather began. "Ye ken ye can'na..."
"I ken, Murtagh" I almost shouted at him. "I ken," said with more kindness and softness.
"Sassenach... The accident... the bus hit ye pretty hard."
"Yes." she nodded in emphasis. "Dr. Campbell says I have stitches on both sides of my head." She acknowledged and touched the white bandage wrapped around her head. "It's alright. The stitches can be removed in about a week. My hair will grow back, my love. Does it look so very awful? Do I look a fright?"
"No Claire. You could never be anything other than beautiful in my eyes." I told her sweetly. "I was just think'n that maybe when they release ye, we could... maybe renew our vows, ye ken. Just yoo and me and Murtagh..."
"And Fergus?" Claire asked. "Since our son could not there for our wedding, perhaps we could make sure he could be present when we renew our vows..." She smiled and I felt like my heart was going to burst. "I would like that very much Jamie."
"Then 'tis a date mo ghaol. (my heart) Yoo, me, Murtagh and Fergus. Paris. Aye?" And I kissed her hard. I had a bad feeling about what the Doctor was going to say. So did Murtagh. I was no' going to loose Claire again.
"The Doctor is look'n Jamie. We'd best go. Sooner we have our wee chat, the faster we get back to Claire. Isn't that right lass?" And Murtagh placed a kiss on Claire's cheek. "If yer no' down here, we'll find what ever room they've put ye in. No worries mo nighean, the lad and I will find ye, where ever ye are."
XXCEBXX
Jamies POV
Dr. Campbell cleared her throat as she closed the office door behind us after we entered. "Have a seat gentlemen," she said as she motioned to the two chairs sitting in front of her desk. She took a seat behind the desk, facing us.
"Look, I don't know what kind of game you two are playing at, but Claire is neither your wife" and she looked directly at me, "nor your daughter" and she looked at my godfather. "Maybe you two think that you are helping Claire by playing along, but it doesn't AND you" and she looked directly at me, "most definately, crossed a line when you kissed her.
"Aye, I ken" I admitted shamefully. "I half expected her to snap out of it when I did, if that helps ye any." I kept my eyes focused on my hands sitting in my lap. I really had not excuse for taking advantage of Claire's state of mind the way I did. I had her. She was mine. It was finally all worked out, until Laoghaire... No. No, that was no' fair. I was the one that couldn't man up and tell either Claire my heart or Laoghaire the truth. This all started with me.
"Why is the lass confused?" Murtagh asked. "From the thump on the head?"
"I'm not really sure. A head injury is the most likely cause. A blow to the head can lead to confusion. A problem with short term memory, especially in the early stages of a recovery. She does know who she is, although, if questioned I'm not sure she could explain why her last name is Beauchamp and you," she spoke looking at Murtagh, "her father's last name is Fraser. The same last name as her husband. But then I don't suppose any memory loss gets everything right."
"So how do we handle this, Dr. Campbell? Ye do no' wish us to upset her and contradict her but ye do no' wish for us to lie to her either. I do'na see how we can have it both ways. Especially since she now believes what she thinks she kens is real." Jamie stated as succinctly as he could.
"That may very well be Major Fraser. But just because Claire believes you to be her husband, does not mean I am going to allow you to act like you are. Do you understand me?" Dr. Campbell glared at me as she spoke. "I will have to do more research, but in most cases the confusion is not in memories, but in recent happening. Whether she'll remember the way thinks happened or only beleive what she believes happened... we will have to wait and see. The mind is a tricky thing."
I don't think the good doctor much cared for me. I did'na ken. I only cared about what was best for Claire right now. "How long will ye keep her in hospital, then?" I asked.
"I'm not sure. Now that the trac is out and she's breathing on her own. We are certain there is no major back or neck issues... We need to get that arm of her's set and we will keep her for a couple of days for observation, for sure. She lives alone, no one to watch over her there." Dr. Campbell held up her hand at me. "And before you say anything about moving in and taking care of her, it will be over my dead body. You can just perish that thought." She ended with a "tisk, tisk".
"I've found somethi'n about a Dissociative Amnesia..." Murtagh said as he used his phone for a search of amnesia. I leaned over and looked at his phone screen.
"Yes," Dr. Campbell said. "But that's rare. It ususally psychogenic in origin. It's usually brought on by some sort of trauma or emotional shock." She looked at us and then fiddled with her pen. "Claire was fine hit by a bus. Nothing psychological about that. Purely phyical."
I swallowed. Hard. My godfather coughed. The Doctor Campbell looked at us like our heads were on fire.
"Out with it gentlemen. Tell me what you know..."
Almost an hour later, the Doctor released us. Murtagh's stomach was make'n noise so we went down and got him somethi'n te eat and went back to A&E to find Claire. A&E sent us Orthopaedics, to have her arm set. When we finally found them, in that maze of a hosptial, they said they'd never seen her. She was suppose to be brought from A&E but she had never shown. They looked up her room number for us and so we went there. Her bed was empty. Did not even look as if she'd been in it. Her lunch tray was on the table by the bed. I lifted the lid. Nothing had been touched. I went down the hall to the nurse's station to ask where Claire was. The nurse said she had not come up from A&E yet.
It took them an hour, but the hospital finally realized they had lost Claire. Lost a woman with a broken arm and a head injury. With amnesia. They found the tech that had wheeled Claire to Orthopaedics in a wheel chair and they found the wheelchair still in the waiting area along with her IV bag. Just no Claire. Claire's phone was smashed in the accident. Her clothes were cut off her and thrown away. The only thing she had were those florescent pink and green asesics of hers. She was in a Johnny with a bandage around her head and those obnoxious shoes on her feet. Where could she be?
