Grateful thanks go to Gerry and Sylvia Anderson for giving us those wonderful Tracy boys of International Rescue.
Knottaclue: After having consulted my technical advisor, namely Fellowriverrat, this is not a recognised post-surgical procedure so; please all you out there, DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME – Unless it's on a Tracy. Jenna just wanted to give him some 'tactile stimulation'.
Darius 10: Appreciate your point about more dialogue but my style of writing focuses more on description and the exploration of the relationship; how they feel and why, bit like painting a picture in words. Sorry, hope it's not too disappointing for you.
Thanks to all the rest of you reviewers for your encouraging comments and waiting anxiously for 'our boy' to wake up.
Chapter 12
Scott Tracy had no intention of waking up. He was quite happy were he was, in a place of utter peace and contentment. There was no duty to fulfil and he was free of all responsibility. Time held no meaning for him there. Best of all, his comforting presence was there, that presence that had no face but seemed to envelope him like a warm blanket. Her soft, soothing voice that dripped all over him like warm, sweet honey, reassuring him and making him feel safe. At times it seemed like she was standing close by, though just out of reach and other times, she was there, holding him, soothing him and stroking him, rocking him back and forwards like one comforts a child but always she was there.
Why would he want to leave to go back to a world of pain and discomfort and yet there were times he felt familiar voices calling him, trying to drag him back. He had been torn between feeling he should go because of some overwhelming sense of responsibility and wanting to stay. At one time the pull on him had been so great when he heard a familiar voice in great distress but he just couldn't quite get there. He had been so weary trying to do what he felt he should and then his comfort was there, pulling him back into that place of contentment and enveloping him in a soothing caress. There were times he even felt like he was bathing in warm water such was the contentment he felt.
No Scott Tracy had no intention of waking up, so it was with much annoyance that he felt himself being dragged away.
He awoke to a hazy vision and a blinding headache, the light hurting his eyes and voices that seemed to pound in his head. His limbs felt heavy, especially his right arm and he felt like everything was in slow motion. He hadn't felt this bad since ….since he couldn't remember. He wasn't quite sure where he was yet though the room seemed familiar. Turning to the sound of voices he heard someone shout, causing him to close his eyes.
"He's awake," Virgil called over to Jenna sitting at her desk.
As she rose from the desk to cross to his bedside Alan's voice rose in slight alarm," I'm telling you, he doesn't know us. Didn't you see the way he looked at you, Virg?"
"Can it Alan," Virgil snapped. "He's only just woken up." But he looked to Jenna all the same for some sort of assurance.
Jenna could well understand their anxieties. They had waited so long for their brother to wake up and what if, now, he didn't know them. She calmly and gently asked them to go and wait outside for a while so she could examine Scott. Sitting on his bed, in her usual soft and soothing manner she spoke to him. "Hi sleepyhead," she smiled, "we've been waiting for you to wake up."
During the day Jenna had kept Scott in a raised sitting position on the highly specialised intensive care mattress that was used to alleviate bedsores. It automatically inflated and deflated at different times so eliminating the need to constantly turn him. She had wanted to get him used to sitting up so that when he woke he wouldn't feel nauseated and at night she would lower him to a more comfortable position.
Slowly opening his eyes he fixed his gaze on her, on a voice he knew well, a voice that had become so familiar to him. But that couldn't be, how could she be here? Perhaps he wasn't in reality at all, just a different place; a place he didn't care for, he hurt too much but, at least, if his comfort were here perhaps it would make it a bit more bearable. He tried to speak but no words would come, his throat ached.
She put her finger to his lips. "No, don't try to talk," Jenna said quietly. She felt more real in this place though, he thought for he could feel her finger pressing on his lips. His eyes creased against the unfamiliar light. "Too light?" she asked. "I'll go darken the window for you." Then she was gone. Maybe she wasn't real; maybe she was just a sweet delusion after all. His thoughts were in confusion.
Within moments she was back sitting on his bed. "Just blink once, for me, for yes," she added smiling, "and twice for no. OK." She wanted to see if Scott had retained the ability to understand a simple command and then be able to carry it out. He slowly blinked his eyes once. She beamed a smile at him. "Good." Now she could see a questioning look in his eyes, wondering who she was. "I'm Jenna. You probably don't remember me but I've been looking after you," she explained still smiling. He kept his gaze fixed on her. He didn't have a code for 'I'm not sure' so he just continued to watch her, watch her with an intense gaze that she was beginning to find unnerving.
"What does she mean, looking after me?" he asked himself, his head still aching. "Why do I need looking after?" He tried to mouth the word, "Why?" drawing his brows into a furrow, which didn't do his head any good.
"You took a bit of a knock on the head, Scott and you also gave yourself quite a gash on your forehead," she said gently as she drew her fingers lightly across his brow. "You needed to have an operation to relieve some pressure, so, your father sent for Mike. Do you remember Mike Strachan, Scott?" she asked. It was always Jenna's policy to try to give her patients as much information as she thought they could handle, to try to relieve some of the worry. Sometimes it was the not knowing what had happened was the frightening thing.
He searched his mind; the name was familiar. He blinked once.
Jenna asked him if he understood what she had just told him and he blinked his eyes again once. "Do you remember what happened to you?" she asked carefully. He tried hard to remember but couldn't. Twice he closed and opened his eyes. "Your father and brothers tell me you had a climbing accident. Do you remember that, Scott?"
(Author's Note - Well of course he's not going to remember that. You and I know it didn't happen like that.)
Why couldn't he remember? He felt panicky, the kind of panic you feel when you can't remember something you know you should be able to. He forgot about the eye signals and shook his head; instantly regretting it as a searing pain cut through his head.
Jenna's heart went out to him. "Try not to shake your head," she urged, wincing at his pain but she guessed he already realised that now. "I'll up your pain relief a bit," she said as she leaned over and adjusted the valve on his drip. "It'll take a few moments to kick in," Jenna told him. "See if this helps." She sat close to him, placed her cool hands on the side of his head and gently rotated her thumbs around his temples. He closed his eyes allowing her soothing touch to quell his pain. Whether it was the pain relief that had finally kicked in or her relaxing action he didn't know but his pain eased. He finally opened his eyes and she found herself gazing into the most intensive blue eyes she had ever seen, eyes that seemed to do things to her insides; the words mush and jelly come to mind. They were that close, just a hairs breadth apart. She could smell his scent that she had applied that morning after his wash and she was aware his heart monitor had risen a couple of beats; she was glad she didn't have one but she was sure he must be able to hear her heart pounding in her chest.
Jenna swallowed hard and drew back, trying to remember what she had been asking him. "Oh, yes, …something about a climbing accident", she thought to herself trying to keep her mind focused. "Try not to worry, it'll come back to you. Don't force it," she smiled encouragingly.
He tried to swallow, wincing at the discomfort. "Throat sore?" Jenna asked sympathetically. He blinked once. "I'll bet you're thirsty too," she added, knowing that he would be; they always were when they first woke up. "I'll get you something for that," she offered and she got up to go to the Prep Room. He followed her with his eyes as she walked across the room, almost as if he expected her to disappear if he didn't keep watching her.
Returning with a hypo-spray and a box of ice chips she sat down facing him. Loading the cartridge into the hypo she told him it would ease the pain, then pressed it to his neck. "I can't give you anything to drink yet," she said again sympathetically. "Wouldn't want you choking on me," she smiled, "but I can give you some of these." She lifted an ice chip from the box and gently brushed it along his dry lips, the heat from his body melting the ice, allowing it to drip into his mouth. The cooling liquid instantly refreshed him. "That good, huh," she said with a wry smile. She took another piece, this time pressing it between his lips into his mouth. He watched her all the time, never taking his gaze from her as he sucked on the ice, caressing her fingers in the process. His intensive gaze holding her in an almost trance-like state that she found impossible to turn away from.
(Author's Note - And you thought it was only the Hood that could do that!)
A sensation that she could only describe as like tiny electric shocks coursed through her hand. She tried to pretend she only imagined it. "Just one more," she said, a little more tersely than she meant but it was directed at herself as she tried to fight this growing attraction she felt for him. Again she placed an ice chip in his open mouth and felt the same tingling in her hand as he closed his lips over her fingers to suck on the ice.
She became slightly flustered and withdrew her fingers rather quickly. Flustered was not a word you would have used for Jenna Rollins; she had not been flustered since she started on the wards that first day as a young nurse. Scott Tracy definitely had an overwhelming presence about him, weak and helpless as he was.
She was beginning to wonder who the weak and helpless one actually was as she stood up, trying to compose herself. Coughing lightly she said, "There are some anxious faces waiting to see you." "Do you feel up to it?" she asked gently, mindful of how tired he was beginning to look already.
That overwhelming sense of responsibility and duty seemed to kick in; that fierce instinct that told him he needed to allay his brothers' fears and reassure them he was going to be all right. He sighed heavily and nodded.
Jenna could understand how he felt. She had felt the same towards her younger brother. Not long after their mom had died she had contracted a bad flu, Johnny had been sitting by her bed when she woke up. "You're not gonna go away, are you Jen?" he had begged. "Not like mom?"
"No, of course not, Johnny," she had tried to reassure him through a pounding head. "I'll be all right, honest. I just need to sleep for a bit, OK." His face brightened and he nodded.
Yes, Jenna could understand how he felt as she opened the door to four eager, expectant faces. The smile she gave them told them all they needed to know; their brother did know them. "Just don't all be talking to him at once," she reminded them again as she had done before. "Just try and think of your worst headache, or better still, your worst hang-over and multiply that about ten times," she grinned at them. They visibly winced, getting the picture.
"You gave us a hell of a scare there, buddy," Virgil smiled at his eldest brother as he sat down by his bedside. The relief on his face wiping away all thoughts of rebuke.
