Chapter Eleven

"You must relax. Peter will not be out of surgery for hours and Annie will need our strength when she comes back."

Caine had jarred Paul out of his self-imposed quiet. He had been so engrossed in his thoughts, he momentarily forgot where he was.

Annie had gone with Mary Margaret to get something to eat and to walk for a bit. She'd tried to get Paul and Caine to accompany her, but both refused, saying they would eat later.

A quick glance around the room reminded Paul he was standing in the surgical waiting room, poised before the only window there. He'd been staring out into the overcast afternoon, thinking the sun must have thrown away its timeless schedule, thus robbing the day of several hours of sunlight.

Taking a deep breath, Paul turned and looked at Caine closely. The Shaolin priest had collapsed again shortly after they brought Peter into the hospital. Paul had overheard some very stern words coming from the Ancient, warning if Caine didn't slow down, he'd be close to death, too.

The admonition must have reached Caine's heart, because he seemed to heed it and rested as much as possible, though the doctor who had looked at him wanted to keep him under observation.

Biting his lip, Paul saw how Peter had drawn his characteristic stubbornness from both of them, knowing Caine was upright by sheer willpower alone.

Time hadn't helped the Caine's condition. If anything, it had declined in the two hours since they'd been there. Taking Caine by the arm, Paul guided him to a nearby chair and sat down beside him. He studied him quietly in the crowded waiting room.

"I'll relax when you lie down. How's that sound?" Paul challenged.

"It sounds like something.. Peter would say," Caine said quietly, looking away as his voice broke.

"Remember what you told me earlier today, out in the precinct parking lot? Does it still stand? The part of Peter being able to draw from our faith and courage?"

Paul searched Caine's face for confirmation and saw it slowly work its way into Caine's expression. He nodded slightly, then placed a weary hand upon Paul's shoulder.

"Yes, he can. Thank you for reminding me."

"Look, maybe you should be talking with Lo Si or someone more well-versed in counseling," Paul said, suddenly uncomfortable with offering advice to Caine's vulnerable self.

Caine's dark eyes lightened slightly as his expression shifted and he tightened his grip. "No. I think that you are the very person I need to speak with at this moment. We are both here to encourage one another and thereby offer Peter a much stronger sense of love and survival. Peter likes to say that 'things happen for a reason'."

Paul found himself nodding because he often heard him say it when he was in the process of accepting a situation beyond his control. "Yes, he does."

"You and I are here because things happen for a reason. Perhaps, we are here to encourage. Perhaps, we are here to learn some new lesson. Whatever the reason, we are here for Peter and he will know that when he awakens."

Paul scratched the back of his neck, hesitating to ask Caine, but unable to stop himself. "Caine, is it too much for you right now... with your current weakness..." he stammered, then shook his head and whispered, "Damn."

A moment later, his gaze locked on to Caine and he pressed on, abandoning all else in order to know his heart's desire. "I was afraid to ask this while Annie was here... but how is Peter? I mean how is he really? Do you think he can survive this?"

As Paul struggled to ask his questions, Caine leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. It almost seemed like he was preparing himself for Paul's inquiries before Paul worked up the courage to ask them.

"Our son is a most tenacious fighter. This you know to be true."

Paul leaned forward, even though Caine couldn't see the movement with his closed eyes. "Yes, but there's so much... the internal bleeding, his extreme dehydration, the concussion, and the compound fracture of his arm."

Just reciting the list of injuries was enough to make Paul feel nauseated. And he noticed the recital had also caused a quiet flinching on Caine's part, as if he were experiencing those injuries right alongside Peter all over again.

Neither man said anything for a long while. It was quite a dichotomy of the human spirit as both dealt with their fears in completely different fashions. Paul was rigid with tension, his body bent forward waiting on Caine's answer as he rubbed his fingers against the arm of the chair.

Caine, on the other hand, appeared completely relaxed, though pale as he sat back in his chair, his head against the wall, not a bit of tension apparent in his body. Paul Blaisdell knew Caine was employing every Shaolin meditative trick in the book to pull that look off. But it was more than that, it seemed to involve everything Caine had ever believed in – all to deal with the devastating fear of losing his only son.

"Caine?" Paul asked when he couldn't stand the silence any more.

"I apologize," Caine said, slowly opening his eyes and pinning Paul in place with their intensity. "I was searching for Peter's consciousness, searching for the answers you seek, the answers we all seek, but I have nothing more to tell you now. It is in the hands of powers greater than ourselves. But that fact should give us strength... in knowing whatever happens, it is meant to happen."

Caine had probably intended for his words to be comforting, but instead it threw Paul into a frenzy.

"The hell it does!" he shouted, instantly silencing the surrounding area.

Paul put out both hands as he stood, clearly enraged. "You're – you're actually trying to tell me all of Peter's suffering, everything Jody went through, the people who died, all that misery... you're saying it was meant to happen? No, I don't accept that! I can't accept that!"

Paul paced back to the window, then spun around with one hand extended before him, as if ready to slap down anyone ready to contest that opinion. "I refuse to believe in a God who would allow that to happen!"

No one said a word as he turned back to look out the window.

"Paul."

Annie's quiet voice broke the uncomfortable silence and Paul felt his rage melt with its utterance. He had been out of line and Annie was there to witness it. Unable to meet her unseeing gaze, as if looking in her direction would allow her to know the depth of his uncontrolled emotions, as if it would allow her to view that painful landscape he'd tried so hard to hold deep within himself.

He looked back out the window, his solitary haven in the storm of life in which he presently had no control over.

Stopping there, he closed his eyes and prayed for restraint – something he was poorly lacking at the moment. He felt Annie's small frame wrap around him from behind and found he hadn't need to pray for restraint. It had been with him all the time. It just stepped away to get a bite to eat.

As his dear wife's arms tightened around him, he placed his hands over hers and thought perhaps there was some higher power watching over them after all.

oOoOoOoOo

The hours passed slowly, excruciatingly slow for those who were waiting. Though the normal surgeries that had been scheduled for the day were long finished. Peter's surgery to stop the internal bleeding had gone on much longer than the doctors had first predicted.

Paul saw a grim-faced nurse approach and he braced himself for bad news.

"Hello, I need to speak with you for a moment, Captain Blaisdell."

The room went deathly quiet.

Dire implications and bleak assumptions flashed through his thoughts. Paul stammered, "Don't you want my wife and Peter's father to join us?"

"No, that won't be necessary. This is regarding another matter, not your son's condition."

The sudden release of tension in the waiting room was almost palpable and Paul quickly nodded as he squeezed Annie's hand and kissed her on the forehead.

Once Paul and the nurse were alone in an unoccupied office, she spoke quietly in a tone that implied strength of character – kind, but forceful, and one that left little room for misconception.

"I'm sorry to disturb you at this time, but we've just been informed of a serious multi-vehicular accident involving several cars. There is a great likelihood that most of the severely injured will require surgery."

Paul listened, but he knew he wasn't hiding his bewilderment well. The nurse smiled patiently and went into greater detail.

"The main reason I am telling you this is that very soon, we will be besieged with frantic friends and family of the injured awaiting word of their relatives in surgery. While the overwhelming attendance of your fellow policemen in support of your wounded detective is gratifying to see... there will be little room for the new arrivals. I'm afraid I must ask your people who are not family members to leave the waiting room."

Paul nodded with understanding, realizing there was only standing room available at the moment.

"They are welcome to wait in the lobby or cafeteria and we can page them whenever there is word," she offered.

"No, that won't be necessary. Most of these people are dead on their feet already, having put in several hours of overtime in the past few days. I'll send them home and we'll get word to them one way or another. Thank for your kindness."

He turned to leave when she pressed a hand lightly against his shoulder. "There's one other thing. While I was checking on the status of available surgical suites, I stopped in on Detective Caine and checked his progress. They should be finishing up soon. You can tell that to your wife and Peter's father."

Paul stared into the most caring set of green eyes he'd ever seen and put his hand over hers. "Thank you. You have no idea how comforting that is."

She smiled a very small smile. "Yes, I do. My son was involved in an accident on the job last year and I sat just where you are sitting right now, waiting out the minutes that seemed like days."

Paul nodded. "Then, you do understand. With the surgery so much longer than scheduled, my mind was starting to fill with all kinds of terrible things."

He chuckled with a self-depreciating laugh, but when he glanced up at her, catching her gaze again, he was startled to see tears there.

"Wh-what? What is it?" Paul asked, suddenly on the defensive.

The nurse sought to regain her professional demeanor and had to step away from him a little. "I'm sorry. That's never happened to me before. I'm afraid you'll need to speak with Doctor Schlosser when he comes out of surgery."

Paul didn't allow her the distance she'd just placed between them and demanded more information. "You can't react like that, then leave me hanging. I've got to know what's going on here."

The head nurse licked her lips before deciding to go ahead. "Peter was very badly hurt."

"Yes, yes, tell me something I don't know already," he implored her impatiently.

"They almost lost him on the table twice."

Her green eyes bore into his soul with that announcement before she reached forward, again touching his arm ever so slightly to let him know she understood exactly what he was going through. "But they think they've found the source of the bleeding and were tying it off when I left."

Paul was so stunned by her announcement, he took her hand in his to ground himself in facts, not fears. He had realized Peter's situation was precarious, but never really allowed himself to consider the fact they could actually lose him.

"Here, sit down. You're looking awfully pale. Can I get you something to drink?" The nurse appeared distraught that she'd caused him such discomfort.

He sat down, but shook his head at the offer of a beverage. "No, no, I'm fine. It's just reality settling in, I guess."

Rubbing his hand over his mouth, he gathered himself. "Were they able to operate on his arm, too? To repair the compound fracture?"

The nurse looked uncomfortable, then plunged ahead. "In for a penny, in for a pound, I suppose," she muttered before shaking her head. "No, it's a matter of priorities. They had to stop the bleeding. In a few days, maybe tomorrow even depending on how's he's doing, they'll tackle the arm."

"Thank you," Paul said finally, realizing the nurse had definitely overstepped her duties by relaying the information she had. "I really appreciate this. And it will be of great help when the doctor is talking to us. It will give me a chance to come up with some questions I might have been too stunned to ask."

"Well, maybe we can keep it as our little secret."

She smiled as she stood from her kneeling position in front of him. Paul stood along with her and extended a hand to shake in silent thanks.

"It'll be my pleasure. You're very good at this. How long have you been at it?" he asked as they started back towards the waiting room.

"Almost twenty-five years. At times, it seems like much too long. Other times, I'm so glad to be working at a job I was born to do. I just recently took over the supervisory position, though. Usually, I'm in the back, working behind the scenes. "

Nodding his head, Paul said. "Well, I, for one, am glad you are here today."

He began to part company as they approached the doors to the waiting room, but he stopped and turned back to her. "Say... your son, the one in the accident, how is he now?"

If Paul Blaisdell could have retracted his question in the instant her lovely expression transformed into a quiet, aching grief, he would have done so immediately.

Tears sprung to her eyes as she bravely whispered, "He... he didn't make it. The good Lord called him home again, but not without allowing him to give the gift of life to seven others through organ donation. My son's still living in others... and in here." She pointed to her heart before stepping closer to reach Paul through his reaction to her words.

"There was just something about you and your extended family that brought everything back to me in a way that hasn't happened for a very long time. Guess it kind of threw me off-track... I'm sorry about that."

Suddenly inspired, she reached forward and gave him a quick hug before whispering in his ear, "What will be will be. Just be strong for yourself and others. Things happen for a reason. This Peter seems so well loved, I'm sure God has more plans in store for him."

Then she walked away, leaving Paul standing in the hallway, completely blown away. The woman had faced his greatest fear, losing a son. It seemed to make the possibility of losing Peter much more real.

Then there was her whispered message, echoing Caine's earlier sentiment. Things happen for a reason. Well, there sure as hell better be a damned good reason for this nightmare, he thought before he gathered himself and walked in to tell the others they had to leave.

oOoOoOoOo

Paul, Annie, Caine, Kermit, and Lo Si were directed to a small conference room near the surgical waiting room. Kermit lingered at the back of the entourage as an old habit of watching the backs of his friends resurfaced.

Scanning the hallway, he didn't see any dangerous types wandering around. 'Damn, what I wouldn't give for a bad guy to pummel right now.'

The waiting room had been a zoo as predicted with a mob of people waiting to hear about the condition of their loved ones from the multi-car accident and Kermit was glad to be out of it. They were currently following a trio of doctors who wanted to speak to them.

As they walked, Paul's quietly whispered words from earlier kept running through Kermit's thoughts. How they'd almost lost Peter twice during the surgery. Maybe these doctors are just here to cover their asses, he thought angrily.

Kermit sighed. It seemed like everything gave fuel to his anger since Peter's disappearance. He remained at the rear wall of the office while the others found empty chairs, though Paul and Caine opted to stay on their feet. He watched the physicians, taking quiet note of their serious and reserved demeanor.

'Ah, hell, this is going to be bad,' he told himself as the lead surgeon began to speak.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Schlosser. I thought a little privacy might work better given the madhouse out there in the waiting room. We don't have a lot of time to talk because we'll be back in surgery again as soon as we finish here, but there are several topics we need to cover quickly."

He glanced to his right and gestured. "This is Doctor Ward, one of the top vascular surgeons in the area. And Doctor DeSalles, a well-known orthopedic surgeon. I understand Peter usually sees Doctor Campbell, but he's vacationing in Europe right now. Doctor DeSalles is very good as you'll soon see."

Paul cleared his throat with a hand resting atop Annie's shoulder. "Gentlemen, I appreciate your time, but you're in a hurry, so let's get right to it. How is Peter?"

Doctor Schlosser locked onto Paul's direct gaze and stated quietly, "He's fighting for his life."

Leaning back on the edge of a large table, he continued, "The next few days will be the true test for him. I'm not going to sugarcoat this for you. He coded twice during surgery. Yes, he has his youth and physical condition working in his favor, but he was also badly beaten. Repeatedly. Any one of his injuries alone would be serious. Together, they are life-threatening."

Schlosser paused for a moment and Kermit watched the group grasp the ramifications of his announcement. Kermit hadn't moved a muscle as he reclined against a wall-to-ceiling bookcase filled with reference books, most of them at least three inches thick.

In fact, he barely seemed to breathe, so still was his body. It was the same inside of him. He kept his emotions at bay by dropping into an analytical mode, one of observation and deductions, one without troubling feelings, and one that had kept him alive on more than one occasion.

While Doctor Schlosser spoke, Doctor DeSalles seemed to be preparing himself to be next while Doctor Ward, a small mouse of a man, stood in the background absently brushing his fingers against his bar handle mustache. None of the men representing Peter's medical experts held the briefest hint of a smile and appeared to be greatly fatigued after the long surgery, which had lasted most of the afternoon and late into the evening.

"The most life-threatening of Peter's injuries you know about. The blood loss due to internal bleeding had to be stopped or else we were going to lose him. It turns out it was much easier said that done. Without going into too much technical detail, one of Peter's broken ribs lacerated his liver causing the blood loss.

"We removed the lacerated section of his liver and packed it off to stop the bleeding. Now, we will have to go back in to remove the packing and will probably do that at the same time Doctor DeSalles is working on Peter's arm.

"His breathing difficulties were another hurdle for us to deal with. One of his four broken ribs punctured his right lung, so when we went in, we had quite a mess to clean up. The extreme blood loss and fever made his heart rate difficult to manage.

"He's been stabilized in Recovery and should be moved to ICU in the next hour or two, but he's got a fever almost as stubborn as he is. We tried to hydrate him as much as possible, but days of dehydration, starvation, and abuse are difficult to reverse in only a few hours."

Schlosser sighed, his fatigue gaining on him rapidly. "Before you ask any questions, I'd like for you to hear from my associates. Their explanations may fill in any blanks I've left open. Joe?"

He turned to the orthopedic surgeon, Doctor DeSalles. "Hi, Doctor Schlosser caught me coming out of another surgery. I've had time to look at Peter's x-rays, examine his arm and even did some quick repair work while Doctor Schlosser and Doctor Ward were finishing up on their work. It's going to be a tricky surgery, but I believe we should be able to return him to full function with the arm.

"He was lucky. For a compound fracture so severe, it could have turned out much differently, but the location of the break worked to his advantage. The corrective surgery won't happen until he's a little stronger, but by the looks of things, I believe he should be fine in a few months."

Kermit watched the others drinking up every word that was being said to them, but Kermit wasn't buying it.

These jokers should go on the road, Kermit thought disdainfully. Curly, Moe and Larry. The Three Stooges. And now, it's Larry's turn.

Doctor DeSalles didn't say anything, only stepped back and the last remaining physician stepped in. "Hi, I'm Doctor Ward, a vascular surgeon as Doctor Schlosser mentioned. My job is to make sure the injured areas are getting proper blood flow. Peter definitely had need of my services. I think we solved most of his more serious issues. I made sure the blood perfusion there would be okay until we can go back in to do what needs to be done. Peter's a strong man, and if we can bring his fever down, while allowing everything else to continue to heal, he should be all right."

Bullshit! Kermit thought. He'd had enough of that medical rigmarole and bolted from his resting spot, leaving the room without a word. He raced to the end of the hallway and stopped, not sure where he was running to... or even why.

He was still angry, still fuming over what had happened to Peter, still bitter about circumstances beyond his control. His hands were in tight fists and he just wanted to punch the life out of something, but unfortunately, Richie Petry wasn't in the area.

Kermit jumped violently when he heard someone clearing their throat directly behind him. Spinning around, he found Lo Si standing there, as calmly as if he was waiting for his turn in line at the grocery store or the movies, and not waiting to speak to a former mercenary who was ready to kill the next thing that bugged him.

"You know, Kermit, I am a very old man," Lo Si began.

"Don't talk to me right now, Lo Si! It's for your own good," he said, fully intending on walking away.

"It is because I am very old and not afraid of death that I am able to say these things to you without fear."

"Damn it to hell, Lo Si! What do I have to do? Knock you to the ground?"

"No. Simply listen."

"To what?"

"To the words you need to hear."

"All I know is that if you hadn't thrown off my shot, I would have rid the world of... "

Kermit moved his face right up to Lo Si's and was nearly shouting to the Ancient's steady and soft spoken tone.

Lo Si bowed slightly. "Did you know most anger is based in fear?"

"...rid the world of – of a menace... what the hell did you just say?"

"I said, did you know most anger is based in fear?"

"And that means?"

"You must address your fear of losing those you love. By accepting it, you will free –"

"Go to hell!" Kermit shouted and spun on his heels to leave.

A small, but powerful hand gripped Kermit's arm. He tried to jerk free, but found he could not. He turned to yell again, but found himself silent as Lo Si's gaze bore right into his soul.

"A body tortured is a terrible travesty, my friend, but a spirit tortured is infinitely worse. You know this to be true for you have spent time in such a wasteland yourself. Your spirit was in pain for a long while and finally it is healing.

"We must all be as strong as we can be for what is ahead. Peter's spirit is badly damaged. Only the love of his friends and family can help him heal. It will not be easy. He will fight against that which he needs most. Does this sound familiar to you, Detective Griffin?"

Kermit froze in place rather than storming away as he had wanted to do. Something inside of him knew Lo Si was telling him the truth, so he wasn't staying because he wanted to per se, but more for Peter's sake. At least, that was what he told himself.

Nodding curtly, Kermit sighed in a brief display of acceptance. That was it. Once he decided he was going to help Peter, fighting with Lo Si seemed very unimportant.

"Tell me what we need to do... what I need to do to help Peter," Kermit asked so quietly that he wasn't sure if Lo Si could hear him.

A sad, tired smile widened upon Lo Si's face as he replied, "Do just as you are doing right now. Listening, learning, opening yourself to what needs to be done, even if it scares you a bit."

"Who said it scared me," Kermit started as the Ancient patted him on the shoulder. He raised a pointed finger. "And don't ever do that in public again or I'll be forced to be very disrespectful."

"Bloody marvelous!" Lo Si uttered with a contagious chuckle before turning back to rejoin the others.

oOoOoOoOo