When Teresa woke up she felt incredibly groggy and it took her a few seconds to remember where she was. When she finally did, she sat up – too quickly as it turned out, because she grew dizzy and had to close her eyes and take a few deep breaths to bring things back into focus.

She let out a big yawn and looked down at her watch, startled to see it was almost 6:00 o'clock. She panicked for a second, but then realized that either Grace or Wayne would have gotten in touch with her if something were wrong. Jane must be doing okay.

She grabbed her phone to check if there were any messages, and saw that she had a couple of texts. They were both from Grace, the first telling her that Jane was doing well, had woken up and spoken for a few seconds. The second informed her that they would come and pick her up at 6.

"Damn!" she scrambled out of bed and hurried to the bathroom, where she tidied up. She didn't have time to take a shower, which she really would have liked, but at least she looked slightly more presentable. She hurried back to the bedroom, and was just slipping on a clean pair of jeans, when there was a knock on the door.

"Teresa, it's Grace. Are you still sleeping?"

"Uh no Grace. I'm just getting dressed. I'll be ready in 5 minutes."

"Okay great. I'm just going to go change. Knock when you're ready and we can head to the hospital. Jane is doing well. They're moving him to a regular ward. Wayne stayed with him."

"Thanks Grace! That's great. I'll see you in a minute." Teresa had to sit down after that, surprised at how emotional Grace's words made her. She'd known earlier in the day that he was going to be okay, but having him leave the ICU was a huge relief. It meant that it was real – he was going to be fine.

Except he's now got a long recuperation, she thought. She had no idea what that was going to mean, but for now she just had to concentrate on the fact that he was alive.

Jane slowly returned to awareness, although he felt rather floaty, and disconnected. It was a strange feeling, but not terribly unpleasant. His brain was working at quarter speed, which normally would have scared him, but right now he didn't really care.

He stayed in that half-aware state for a while until he began to notice noises and motion around him. It was a tug on his arm, however, that finally caused him to open his eyes. After slowly blinking for a few seconds, someone came into rather fuzzy view. It was a woman in white, and she appeared to be doing something to a tube that was heading from a bag hanging beside him. His eyes slowly followed the tube down, until it ended in his arm.

He stared at the needle that was taped to his arm, carrying the fluid from the bag into his body. He frowned, not particularly liking the fact that he was hooked up to something. He didn't know what they were putting into him although a part of his brain that was still working told him that whatever it was, was probably responsible for the floaty feeling.

He closed his eyes, and would have drifted back to sleep, except a thought popped into his brain, from that working part, that told him he was in the hospital. That was why the woman in white was hanging around. He was not happy at the realization.

He hated being out of control, and being in the hospital, any hospital, was the ultimate in lack of control. As far as he was concerned, it was even worse than being in jail. Your body was at the whim of the doctors and nurses, many of them who pretended to know what they were doing, but were, in actual fact, no better than charlatans.

It was when the nurse lifted his sheet, without even asking permission, and fiddled around down there – that he finally objected. Unfortunately his voice was too weak, his mouth too dry and his throat too sore for anything intelligible to come out.

It did, however, cause the nurse to stand up, from where she'd been squatting down. He tried to look over the side of the bed, to see what she was doing, but managed to move no more than a couple of centimeters.

"You're awake!" she said, moving up so that she was by his head. "How are you feeling, Mr. Jane?"

He tried again to speak, but ended up gagging instead. That left him feeling even more dizzy and weak, so he closed his eyes and waited.

"Here," the nurse pressed something against his lips. He opened his mouth to tell her to go away, when an ice cube slipped into his mouth. After a few seconds he was ready to forgive her for touching where no one was supposed to touch.

After a couple of more ice cubes, he had decided that her name must be Florence, and that he really, really liked her. He opened his eyes once more and looked into her face. Although he still had trouble focusing, he could tell that she was young and rather pretty.

"What?" he asked softly, unable to get anything else out right now. He was so very tired.

"I was just checking on all your IV's and your catheter," she told him gently. "You had an accident and are in the hospital, but you're doing much better. I know you still feel weak, and it's going to take you a while to regain your strength, but with lots of rest you'll be back on your feet in no time."

He had a catheter! Damn – he hated those things – although at least it explained what she had been doing.

He scowled, but didn't have the energy to complain. . He blinked again and then slowly peered around the room. He got a strange feeling and an unexpected hazy memory emerged. He'd woken up before and there had been someone with him. But now – there was no one, other than the nurse.

He tried hard to reach through the vail that seemed to surround his thought processes and slowly a vague memory of Grace speaking with him appeared. But surely that couldn't have been possible. She lived in San Francisco with Wayne and their kids. Could it have been Teresa?

The thought of Teresa brought a sudden, sharp feeling of anguish, which both confused and upset him. The thoughts of Teresa always brought him comfort and a sense of safety and – and a warmth he couldn't even describe. But now – now he felt afraid. He had a terrible feeling and it had something to do with her. He closed his eyes, trying desperately to remember.

He was back to feeling things he hadn't felt in a long time. It felt similar to the many, many times he'd woken up, only to be reminded of the terrible loss of his wife and daughter.

"No," he murmured. "Teresa!"

"Are you okay Mr. Jane? Is something bothering you?" the nurse's soft, gentle voice brought him back to the present, and with great effort he opened his eyes and looked at her. He tried to take a deep breath and calm himself down.

"M'okay," he told her, not wanting to say anything to her about his sudden panic.

"I know it's hard," she told him, carefully rearranging his covers. "You just sleep and things will start to feel better soon."

He still felt upset and worried, but there was nothing he could do about it so he nodded and allowed his eyes to close. He was so damned weak! If only he could get up and find out what was going on.

"Hey, is it okay if I come in now?"

His eyes flew open. Was that Wayne Rigsby's voice? He turned his head, and sure enough, the big guy was walking in, a smile plastered on his face. Maybe he hadn't been imagining Grace!

Almost immediately Jane felt a bit better. There was no way Wayne would look like that if something bad had happened.

But why was Wayne here? He was so confused.

"Mr. Jane," the nurse interrupted his thoughts. "Are you okay now?"

He glanced at her and nodded. "Yes – thanks," he whispered.

She smiled at him again, gave his shoulder a pat and then walked to the door. "We're going to move him in a few minutes," she told Wayne. "I just needed to check that all his lines were in correctly."

"Oh, okay. Thanks." Wayne smiled at her and then when she was gone he approached Jane. "Hi Jane. It's good to see you awake."

"Rigsby – what - why?" he asked, confused.

Wayne looked puzzled for a second but then his face cleared and he pulled a chair forward and sat down. "You want to know what's happened and why I'm here?" he asked. "Didn't Grace tell you?"

"Grace?" Jane frowned. "I – no – maybe – don't – remember." Damn! It was so hard to get anything out.

"Wow man, you really were out of it. Yeah, she was here. We came down when we heard what happened. We've been here a couple of days."

"A couple – wait, how – long – and what – happened?"

Wayne's brows went up. He'd never seen Jane so confused before or unable to remember. He frowned then – of course there'd been the time when he'd lost his memory after almost drowning. At least this time he recognized him.

"You've been here for a few days. You were in an accident, don't you remember?"

"An accident?" Suddenly Jane had a fuzzy recollection of talking to Grace. "Oh, yeah," he said. As Wayne spoke the memory of Grace having been here started to return and he remembered her telling him he had been in an accident. "My fault?" he frowned.

"Nope. It was a drunk driver - a bunch of kids, actually – coming home from a party. They smashed into the driver's side. You were saved by the fact that you were in your Airstream, not a car."

"Right – I – remember Grace – telling me." He closed his eyes for a second and then yawned. His eyes abruptly opened when he remembered something else. "I'm in – LA?" he asked.

"Mmm hmm," Wayne nodded. "You went to your house."

Jane shook his head slowly – not to disagree, but because, for the life of him, he couldn't remember why in hell he'd gone to the Malibu house.

"Grace and Teresa will be here soon," Wayne suddenly told him. "Teresa went back to the hotel to sleep. She stayed up with you for two full nights and days, while you were in critical condition and she was exhausted."

Well that was a shock! He thought back to his panic when he'd first woken up, thinking that there was something bad with Teresa. But the fact that she was here –

"Wait," he said to Wayne. "She's - here?"

"Yeah," he was told. "As soon as she heard you'd been hurt, she flew out. Cho wanted to come, but Abbott couldn't spare both of them, especially with you hurt. He says to say hi and so do Abbott and a guy by the name of Wylie."

"Thank - you," he suddenly looked at Wayne. "I appreciate – you coming."

"Hey, no problem man," Wayne grinned. "That's what friends are for. Did they tell you they're going to move you?"

At Jane's frown Wayne continued, seeming to realize it was difficult for Jane to say very much. The poor man still looked really out of it. It was rather scary to see Jane like this.

"Yeah – you're better enough so you don't have to be in the ICU anymore. They're going to move you to a regular room. That way we'll all be able to visit you. They only let one person at a time come in here."

Jane gave a small nod, but his eyes were so heavy, and Wayne's words were starting not to make sense. He felt real gratitude that he was here, and happy that Grace, and especially Lisbon would be here soon. Everything must be okay.

Wayne looked at the man in the bed, and gave a little smile. Jane was out like a light. He supposed that was a good thing. He needed as much rest as he could get. He just hoped that he'd begin to heal quickly. It was disconcerting seeing him like this.

It was almost a half an hour later when the nurse and two orderlies appeared. The nurse woke Jane up and began to unhook all of the leads and tubes surrounding him from their poles and waited for the orderlies to move him. She then reattached everything to the new bed.

"You're good to go," she told him, leaning over and speaking directly to him. "You come and see us when you're ready to leave the hospital, okay? You're one of our prize patients."

He tried to smile at her, but he knew it was a feeble attempt. Still, she seemed to know what he was doing and gave him a big smile. Yes, as far as nurses were concerned, she was a good one.

He took a trip down the hallway, keeping his eyes on the ceiling as they moved him. He didn't have the energy, or frankly the interest, in looking at what was around him. All he wanted, right now, was to see Teresa.

They soon had him in a new room, and a different nurse was hooking everything up. He glanced and saw that Wayne had followed and was standing in the corner of the room, watching everything carefully.

Once Jane was all hooked up once more – how he hated that – the nurse checked everything and wrote a few notes in his file. Fortunately they'd been able to ditch a few of the machines, so it didn't take her quite as long.

"Okay Mr. Jane," she told him briskly, "here's the call button if you need anything. There's water and a straw on your table. Do you want me to lift your bed a bit?" she asked.

Jane could already tell that he wasn't going to like this nurse nearly as much as the last one. Still he nodded slightly. Sitting up a bit would hopefully take away some of the fogginess in which he presently existed.

Of course no one told him it would also increase the pain. He groaned as the movement of the bed put pressure on his ribs. "Stop," he gasped when it got worse.

The nurse regarded him carefully. "Do you want it down?" she asked.

He took a few more breaths and then shook his head. The pain was leaving, and as long as he stayed perfectly still, he preferred being able to see more closely.

With a nod, and a pointed glance at Wayne, she turned and left.

"Whooo," Wayne exhaled as she left the room. "I wouldn't want to cross her." He turned back to Jane. "Are you sure you're okay? You looked rather shaky for a minute there."

"Ribs," he said shortly.

"Ouch! I've had a broken rib before. It's not pleasant." He looked around for another chair and pulled it up to the bed. "Grace and Teresa should be here any minute now. Is there anything I can get you in the meantime?"

He shook his head and once again his eyes drifted shut. The move – even though he hadn't really done anything but lie there – had tired him out. He was as weak as a kitten right now, he realized. It was an awful feeling.

Wayne watched as once again Jane fell asleep. He didn't seem able to stay awake for more than a couple of minutes at a time. It made him realize just how sick the man was – and how lucky they were not to have lost him.

Five minutes later, his wife and Teresa walked into the room. He grinned to see his wife –he still had trouble believing how lucky he was to have met and married her. He was also happy to see Teresa, but not nearly as happy as he was sure Jane was going to be.