The doctor decided to leave the intubation in until the morning, saying that nights were often harder on patients, and he wanted Jane to be more awake and aware when starting to breathe on his own.
Teresa grimaced slightly, knowing he was going to hate it if he woke up again with the tube still down his throat. Still, he was going to have to learn to deal with things the doctors made him do that were good for him, even if he didn't like them.
It was going to be fun, she snorted. Patience was not a word in Jane's vocabulary.
He had a much better night, that night. The nurse on duty (a new one) told her that the doctor had ordered a sedative for him until they could get him breathing on his own. Waking up while intubated was too stressful, something she had already witnessed. Teresa was relieved. She had hated seeing him in distress when he'd woken up before.
But she also wondered briefly if she could get some of those sedatives, to keep for Jane when he was recuperating! Heck, she might need them for herself.
The Rigsby's showed up the next morning at 8:00 am and Grace dragged her, protesting, down to the cafeteria for breakfast while Wayne sat with their former consultant. When she returned, Dr. Sariana was in his room, attempting to wake him up.
"His oxygen levels are steady," she was told, "so I'm going to take out the tubes and let him breathe on his own. I need him awake first though, and he's a bit stubborn this morning." The doctor smiled. "He doesn't seem to want to wake up."
"That sounds like Jane," Rigsby laughed. "He likes to sleep."
The doctor looked at Wayne. "Do you have any suggestions?"
"Well, Teresa usually kicked the couch he slept on, but I don't expect that's a good thing to do now. You could also try and tell him that breakfast is on. He also likes to eat!"
"That would be cruel," Teresa shook her head. . "I doubt he's up to eating solid foods right now."
"No, unfortunately not," the doctor agreed. "So, we'll just have to try and get him to wake up some other way."
"Let me try," Teresa suggested. "He knows my voice."
"And knows that you'll be mad at him if he ignores you," Rigsby said under his breath. "That'll scare him awake!"
She gave him a mock glare, but then turned back and leaned over Jane. She took his hand and lifted it up and squeezed. "Come on Jane – time to wake up! You've been sleeping long enough. We have things to do. Come on, I need you!"
Although she didn't know it, it was those last words that reached through the haze of his subconscious and brought him back to awareness. Teresa needed him – it was so nice to be needed, he thought. He had to wake up for her.
But why were his eyelids so heavy, he wondered? Maybe Cho or Rigsby had played a practical joke on him and glued them shut.
No, they wouldn't do that – would they? If he irritated them badly enough, maybe, although he couldn't remember anything he'd done to them lately. In fact, he was having trouble remembering anything at all. That worried him, and he felt himself star to panic. What was wrong with him? Why didn't he know what was happening?
He tried to speak, but it came out as a muffled groan. It was then that he felt something in his throat, something not allowing him to breathe properly. What the hell? He tried to shake his head, to get rid of whatever it was, but that didn't help, it just made him feel sick as he felt something scrape his throat. What the hell was wrong with him?
"Open your eyes, Jane," Teresa told him – more gently than she normally did. Her voice made it through the fog and the panic and stopped him for a moment. He heard her again telling him to open his eyes. He knew he had to obey, although he was scared. There must be something really wrong if she was being that gentle with him.
He finally focused all his attention on his eyes, although he still found it difficult to breathe. With everything he had in him, he pried both of his eyes open. He stared straight ahead – but things were foggy and fuzzy. Suddenly a head appeared in his vision – a head with long dark hair.
Teresa – thank God! He tried to speak, to tell her he was glad to see her, and that something was wrong. She could fix it. She had always had his back, had always been there to save him. He just needed her to understand. He needed to tell her, but he couldn't talk.
"Jane, listen to me." Her hands reached up and held either side of his face. She leaned forward until she was almost nose-to-nose with him. It broke through some of his panic and he forced himself to concentrate solely on her eyes – her beautiful green eyes.
"You've been intubated Jane – that's the tube in your throat, helping you breathe. Dr. Sariana is going to remove it for you, but you need to listen to her and follow her instructions. Can you do that?"
He blinked slowly, suddenly feeling tired. He wanted to go to sleep. Teresa was here and he'd be safe. He let his eyelids slowly close.
"God dammit Jane, open your eyes!"
Startled awake, his eyes flew open and he was once again looking at Lisbon – this time she was looking at him with an expression he knew well; part exasperation, part compassion.
"There, that's it," she told him, again gently. "Just stay awake while Dr. Sariana speaks to you, okay. She's trying to help you."
A new face appeared in his line of vision and he frowned, not liking the fact that Lisbon was gone. And he was pretty sure she had said this one was a doctor. He didn't like doctors. They were all frauds.
"Mr. Jane, listen to me," the doctor said kindly. "I'm going to take the tub out of your throat. It'll feel a bit strange, but you'll feel much better afterward, okay?"
Some of what she was saying finally got through to him so he nodded. He didn't know what was going to happen next, but then he saw Teresa smiling at him. He could handle whatever was to come, as long as she was there.
"The nurse is going to suction out your mouth first," the doctor told him.
He frowned, wanting to object, when suddenly there was something in his mouth. He heard a strange sucking sound and wanted to jerk away, but before he had a chance it was done.
"Okay, I want you to look at me Patrick," the doctor told him. He turned his eyes towards her, although he glanced quickly at Lisbon, who gave him a nod and a wink.
He, in turn, nodded at the doctor, who gave him a gentle smile. As far as doctors went, she seemed pretty good.
"Alright, I'm just going to take the tape off of your face. It may hurt a bit as your whiskers have grown out."
He felt a sharp sting as first one side, and then the other was pulled from his face. The tube moved as a result and he wanted to gag. The damn thing felt awful.
"Okay, now I'm going to start to pull," Dr. Sariana told him. "While I'm doing that, I want you to cough. Can you do that Patrick?"
Was he a child, he wanted to say to her. Of course he could cough.
She pulled the tube and he tried to cough, although it was harder than he'd thought. He could feel the horrible sensation of the tube being pulled up his windpipe. It was longer than he had thought it would be – and he went from coughing to gagging as it was pulled from his mouth.
The dreaded suction appeared again, as the nurse helped clear his mouth of all the phlegm and grossness that had come up with the tube. He coughed again – and realized that his throat was burning terribly. But at least he was breathing on his own. The nurse put a tube around his head and cannula's in his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose, not liking the feel of the air or the tubes.
"Good for you Jane!" Teresa's voice brought him back to the present, and his head moved so that he could see her. She was smiling at him with her "I'm proud of you Jane" look. It wasn't one he saw that often, and it warmed him to his toes. He slowly returned her smile.
"Good – his oxygen stats are holding," the doctor announced. "How are you feeling Mr. Jane?"
He opened his mouth, attempting to answer, but instead of speaking, he began to gag.
"His mouth is probably dry," Dr. Sariana commented. "We'll get you a little bit of ice. That should help."
A moment later the nurse placed a spoon between his lips and an ice cube slipped into his mouth. He closed his eyes in bliss. The cool, melting water soothed his throat and took away the horrible taste and dryness. He kept his eyes closed and opened his mouth again – feeling like a tiny bird ready to be fed. Another ice cube was popped into his mouth and he lay there quietly, enjoying the relief.
"Mr. Jane, can you tell me how you feel?" the voice asked again. He sighed, and tried once more to open his eyes. He was so sleepy.
"Okay," a soft, raspy voice that he didn't recognize as his own, came out of his mouth. He frowned and tried again. "Okay." That time was a bit better, but still remarkably weak. What was wrong with him?
"You were in a traffic accident. You were pretty banged up, but you're going to be okay. Your friends Teresa, Wayne and -"
"Grace," Teresa said.
"Grace – are all here with you."
"Cho wanted to be here, but had to stay in Texas," Teresa told him, leaning forward, a small smile still on her face. Jane was conscious!
He nodded, his eyes drifting slowly shut. He'd been in an accident? He didn't remember anything like that. In fact, the last thing he remembered was – damn, he couldn't remember that either."
"Everything is looking good," Dr. Sariana turned to Wayne and Teresa. "We're going to continue to monitor him carefully, but if he's still doing well later this afternoon, I think we can move him from ICU. It looks like Patrick really is a fighter! He's come out of this more quickly than I thought."
Teresa thanked the doctor and watched as she left. The nurse spent a few more minutes tidying everything up, and then she smiled and left too. Teresa remained, with Rigsby, and both were regarding the now sleeping man.
"That's a relief," Wayne murmured softly.
"Yes, it is," she agreed. "He was so weak though. I've never seen him like that."
"I know. Even when he's been hurt before, he always bounced back quickly." Wayne raised his head and regarded Teresa closely. "How are you doing?"
She let out a long, slow breath and then yawned. "I'm tired, but relieved. Those were some of the longest days of my life. There were a few times when I really didn't think he was going to make it."
"It was good of you to be here for him."
That garnered him a smile. "And the same goes for you and Grace. I just wish Cho could have been here. He's probably miserable having to stay in Austin."
"Yes, he is. I've called him regularly and he hates not being here. He said that Abbott and Wylie both said the same thing. I wonder if Jane knows how much he means to all of us?"
"No, I don't think he does," she answered seriously. She regarded him carefully. "I think for a long time he didn't think he deserved anyone caring about him."
Wayne frowned. "That's sad."
"Yeah, it is."
"But he has us, and surely he knows that we consider him a good friend?"
"I hope so, although I don't think I've been that good a friend to him lately," she mused quietly, almost forgetting that Wayne was in the room with her.
He didn't say anything; sure that this was a result of the Pike episode. He'd have to ask Grace what she thought, because she was much more clued in to the relationship thing than he was. Still, he was glad Pike was out of the picture. He'd long thought that Jane and Lisbon belonged together.
"I should go let Grace know what's going on," he said. "Then you're going to go back to the hotel and get some sleep. Grace and I will stay with him."
"But -"
"Nope! If I have to, I'll carry you out of here, Teresa. You're going to get sick. He's out of danger now and you need to rest. We'll make sure and stay with him in case he wakes up."
She finally nodded, knowing that Wayne was right. She was on her last reserve of energy and would end up sick if she pushed it too much more.
"Rigsby is making me go, Jane," she took his hand and told him softly. "I'll be back, so don't get into any trouble when I'm gone. And – I'm glad you're going to be okay." With a slight feeling of awkwardness she leaned forward and kissed him on the brow.
"Thanks Wayne," she told the big man as they walked to the waiting room. "You're such a good friend."
After telling Grace all that had happened, Wayne drove Teresa back to the hotel. This time Grace insisted on staying with Jane.
"I really haven't had a chance," she told the other two. "Wayne, why don't you get some takeout on the way back and we can have something other than hospital food."
A moment later Grace was alone in Jane's room, looking down at the still battered and bruised man she'd known for so many years. He did look better, now that the tube was gone and his face was missing all the tape. However his facial bruises were now even more obvious. In fact, they were pretty spectacular.
His eyes were both black now, and he looked vaguely like a raccoon. She smiled – a blond, curly headed raccoon!
It took her a second to realize that those two black eyes were now open and were staring straight at her. When she finally did, she let out a small cry.
"Jane! You're awake!" Which probably had to be the most inane thing she could have said. She rolled her eyes, but then turned her attention back to her friend.
"How are you feeling?" That received a small frown and his eyes shifted, as if looking for something – or someone else.
"Oh, you have it bad Jane," she whispered. She wanted to grin – maybe this would finally bring two of the most obstinate, blind people together.
"Teresa went back to the hotel with Wayne, to sleep." This time she frowned – that didn't sound good. "Uh – Teresa went to sleep. Wayne is getting us some food."
"Food?" Jane whispered, his voice practically unintelligible.
"Not for you, I'm afraid," she told him. "How are you feeling?"
He licked his lips slowly, as if having to figure out the answer. He took a short breath and coughed. "Ow," he whispered.
"Does your throat hurt?" she asked sympathetically. "The doctor said it would, for awhile, because of the intubation.
He nodded and tried to open his eyes wider since they kept wanting to close. "Where – am I?" he asked suddenly.
"You're in the hospital – in Los Angeles," she told him. "You were hit by a drunk driver. It looks as if you had been at your house in Malibu and were leaving there when you were hit."
He frowned. Why in hell had he been at his house? He hadn't been there since leaving the country. And he couldn't even remember being there. "Why?"
"Why were you hit, or why were you at your house."
"House?"
"I'm sorry Jane, I don't know," she told him with a regretful look. "All we know is that Cho phoned us to tell us what had happened. Teresa and – ur – Teresa came, and we didn't want her to be alone, so Wayne and I flew down from San Francisco to be with her."
"Thanks," he told her softly. "What's – wrong with me?"
"That's a loaded question Jane," she grinned. "Are you sure you want me to answer that?"
That received a grin in return, although he was obviously still finding it difficult to stay alert. "You're – not – supposed to be – mean to – a sick – man," he managed to get out, although he was breathless by the end of it.
"I'm sorry!" she told him, although she didn't look sorry. But then she grew serious. "You'll have to have the doctor explain everything, I'm afraid. I do know you're going to be fine, though."
"Didn't – lose – anything?"
"No, oh no! You have some breaks – broken arm, leg, ribs. You're pretty bruised and scraped up, which probably hurts a lot, but isn't too serious. You also had some internal injuries but they did surgery and fixed you all up – there's nothing permanent. You just have to recuperate from everything now."
He regarded her closely – and even though he was woozy and sleepy from the wounds as well as all the medication, she was positive that he was making sure she was telling the truth. After a moment he seemed satisfied, and again glanced around the room.
"How long?"
"Uh – you've been here three days," she told him. "They say you're a fast healer."
He clearly didn't think that was fast, and his eyes grew big again, but soon he was looking drowsy again. "Drink?" he asked suddenly.
"Oh goodness, I'm sorry! They said ice cubes – I hope that's okay?"
He nodded. That sounded wonderful. Grace gave him a few, one right after another. By the time she was done he was fading again. His eyes began to close and he was almost asleep, although once more he forced his eyes open.
"You're a – good – friend Grace. Thank you."
"You're welcome Patrick," she smiled – and like Lisbon had done, she leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss. He didn't realize because he was already sound asleep.
