Chapter 10
Michael almost turned around when he saw who was waiting for him but he knew he'd have to face his former mentor eventually...and it might as well be now. ''Oscar tells me you did excellent work in there,'' Rudy said, very quietly.
''Thank you. Rudy, I -''
''I'm not finished.'' (Already, his voice was beginning to rise.) ''You do realize that if I'd been here, you'd never have set foot in this hospital, much less been allowed near a patient - and especially not Jaime!''
''You'd have preferred to let her die?''
''Don't be so damn cocky, Michael! Corinth could've kept her alive long enough for help to get here from the East Coast.''
Michael shook his head. ''Alive would've been the only scenario left by the time Albright or Savidge could've reached her. You want more than that for Jaime...don't you? I know Steve does. Once Jaime is a little stronger, the possibility exists that she can return to a fully normal life - no, make that a probability - and I intend to give that to her. You, of all people, know I can do that! With the others, her future is still a 'maybe'.''
Rudy could feel his anger threatening to boil over...and he took several calming breaths. This...person...was not worth working himself into a full-fledged heart attack over! ''Of course you're capable,'' he acknowledged. ''But if it had been up to me, you'd be consulting from many miles away - and not here, in MY hospital.''
''Consulting isn't enough in this case! And it certainly wouldn't have helped Jaime a few hours ago!'' Michael insisted. ''Look, I understand your reluctance but -''
''Reluctance? Reluctance?! You tried to kill me, Michael! And you almost killed the very patient Oscar is permitting you to work on!''
''Oscar would like to see her wake up fully alert, to where she can remember who shot her - and identify them - and she will!'' Michael could see that Rudy was suddenly growing paler and slightly ashen before his eyes. ''Please calm down,'' he told Rudy, ''for your own sake. I deserve everything you have to throw at me - but you're endangering your health.''
''Did you know I defended you to Oscar - and to Steve?'' Rudy told Michael with the anger of betrayal in his eyes. ''Told them, before any of us knew what you really were, that you could set aside your feelings and be trusted around Jaime. They trusted my words and my judgment enough that they didn't demand you be sent to Colorado. And look what it got them - and what it got Jaime!'' He had to stop when breathlessness and pain began to overtake him.
''Where's your nitro?'' Michael asked quickly. ''Do you have any with you?'' Rudy shook his head. Michael automatically shifted gears once again, from cocky, angry arrogance to quiet efficiency as though the surgeon in him had never been on 'hiatus' for a year. He picked up the phone receiver and dialed into the hospital switchboard, reaching the ER (just down the hall and closer than the hospital pharmacy)...identifying himself as Doctor Marchetti (quite the change from an Inmate Number) and requesting Nitro tablets immediately.
Once Rudy's potential crisis had been averted, Michael had seen to it that he was safely ensconced in a room upstairs - away from the worst of the facility's chaos, so he could rest quietly. He'd also administered valium, then remained with the older doctor until a team had arrived to check him over from head to toe and his own cardiologist had been notified of his precise whereabouts, then he headed back downstairs to his own patient.
Michael's route to Jaime's cubicle took him past the nursery where Becca was staying. He could see through the glass that Steve was finally dozing off again in the chair next to his wife and he was relieved; Steve needed that so desperately. Michael couldn't resist a look at the infant he still believed was his...through the glass from the hallway only. What was left of his soul flooded with regret - and then a sharp pain coursed through his head and regret was replaced by another emotion, one he had to struggle to force away: fury. It was a feeling he'd come to associate with being a prisoner (and out of control), someone (and something) he never intended to be, ever again. For now, his intent was stronger than whatever his more primal emotions were trying to do to him: Michael would see to it that things remained that way.
Becca was beautiful. His heart filled with longing to go inside, to hold her in his arms...but he didn't dare. He knew those were no interns busying themselves inside her cubicle and he didn't begrudge Steve the need to keep guards around the child; rather, he understood completely. He didn't have a very good view from where he stood, but from the picture he'd seen at the prison, the child looked just like her mother, except with (Michael was certain) his eyes. She should've been conceived the usual, loving way...and she very nearly could have been, except at the crucial time for her to make a choice, Jaime had chosen Steve.
He turned in to Jaime's cubicle where Mark was watching (and had likely just seen everything) from his far corner of the room. Steve's sixth sense awakened him instantly but this time he stayed where he was, still wiping the sleep from his eyes as he watched Michael's every movement.
''Only minor swelling,'' Michael told both men. ''That's to be expected and so far it's well contained within her skull. We'll keep a close eye throughout the rest of the day and overnight - and if all goes well, we can start to wake her tomorrow for a more thorough assessment. She'll still be kept sedated for the majority of the time until she's ready for the initial cell regeneration...but we'll be able to see, even from the outset when she first wakes, how successful we've been so far. So everything looks good - and we're ahead of schedule. Excellent news.''
Michael adjusted the flow of medicines through Jaime's IV tube, nodded respectfully to both men as well as to the 'nurse' who stood by the window. ''I'll check back again in an hour,'' he told them all.
Oscar was no further along in his investigation than he'd been nearly 36 hours earlier, when the Ballistics report had been delivered. He sighed in frustration and accidentally knocked the glasses from his face when he rubbed the bridge of his nose to massage away the stress headache. Luckily, there was a back-up pair of glasses in his briefcase. 'Efficiency' was his middle name. The next morning, when it was hoped that Jaime might awaken, he and Russ would be in the cubicle. If Michael had worked a true miracle and Jaime was able to name her shooter, they'd both be there to witness it. If not, Russ would remain with Jaime while Oscar interviewed Steve about any potential enemies - old or new - within the Intelligence community, that he thought might be cold blooded enough to look a new mother in the eyes...and shoot her in the head.
