As she predicted, he survives. Barely. When he wakes up, she's waiting for him, looking like she hasn't slept in days. When she notices that he's conscious she bursts into action, pressing the call button incessantly and hovering over him, spitting out a list of any possible thing he might need right now.
Finally he interrupts her. "Stop mothering me and tell me what's happened," he says. It hurts to speak.
She looks nervous. This isn't going to be good. "I'll let your doctor explain," she says. She takes his hand in both of hers and fiddles with his fingers.
"No," he says. "You tell me. Now."
"The doctor will know more of the details..."
"Well, how about you start with the basic facts before he gets here?"
She sighs. "Fine. There were...complications. You had a heart attack on the operating table. So they stopped the operation..."
"So they didn't do it?" He knows that's not right because it actually feels like someone has stuffed a metal box in his chest.
"Well, yeah. They went back in later and finished it up. So you've had two surgeries. It's been three days."
"Three days?" He tries to shoot up out of bed, but he feels an intense throbbing in his chest. His monitors go berserk. She lays a hand on his shoulder and coaxes him back down.
"You have to stay calm. You're in a bit of a...fragile state," she says.
"What does that mean?"
She shakes her head. "It just means...the surgery was successful. You've got the pacemaker in. But the doctors are still worried about the strength of your heart. You have to try and keep relaxed." She's looking at him like she thinks this is an impossible task.
In honor of her instructions, and to prove her wrong, he does not argue. He lets out a sigh and settles back in. "How long are they keeping me here then?"
"The doctor said it would depend on what happened today, but probably another four or five days."
"Ugh, that long?"
"They just want to make sure you'll be all right."
He sighs again.
The doctor tells him virtually exactly what Ellie has already said. He reiterates the importance of rest and keeping calm. Tells him they'd like to keep him in hospital for monitoring for "a few days."
The next day, she is still there, in her chair by his side. She's brought Fred with her, and he is settled at the foot of the bed, using Hardy's ankles as a table top for his pile of brightly colored blocks. It's quite cute, the way the child works so diligently, muttering to himself when a block topples over on the soft round surface of blankets and legs. Hardy occupies himself watching the boy, while Ellie is watching some insufferable daytime TV program, or pretending to at any rate.
Eventually Fred bores of his building project and starts to whimper. He looks around him and then makes eye contact with Hardy. He raises his eyebrows at the boy, crossing his eyes a little. Fred giggles and crawls up the bed, alongside the length of Hardy's body and sits himself next to the man's shoulder, coming nearly face to face with him. He pokes Hardy in the nose. Hardy makes the face again and Fred howls with laughter.
"Don't look now, but I think you've made yourself a friend!" Ellie laughs.
They stay like that for quite a while. Hardy making strange faces and watching the toddler's gleeful reaction. Occasionally Ellie will reach from behind and give her son a tickle, perpetuating another fit of giggles. A wave of unexpected contentment washes through him, observing this child, a tiny boy clone of Ellie, young enough to live his life with the absolute freedom to be happy. Simply watching another person's face is enough to entertain Fred. There's not a worry, no sadness in the world for him. Behind him Ellie is looking at them like perhaps she's had the same thought. A kind of wistful serenity has taken over her tired features. She looks lovely.
A knock on the door distracts his musings. It's a young nurse he hasn't seen before. "Hi hi, sorry to interrupt! I just need to check your vitals and look after that wound of yours and administer your meds. Just be a few minutes."
"Actually, I'd better get going anyway," Ellie says. "I've got to get Tom and then I have some things that need tending to...if that's all right with you?"
"Yeah, course."
"I'll be back round later, though?" It's posed as a question, as if she has ever waited for an invitation. As if it's necessary.
"Good," he says.
With Fred packed away in his pushchair, she inspects the foot of the bed for any errant building blocks, and scans the room one last time for other remaining baby items. When she's satisfied she comes back to the head of the bed and looks down at him. "Tonight then," she says, and squeezes his hand.
As she's making her way out the door she says, "Wave bye bye, Fred!" and the child complies with a happy little, "Bye bye, bye bye!"
The nurse grins at Fred. "What a little heartbreaker. Such a lovely family you've got there, Mr. Hardy!"
He opens his mouth, but can't quite bring himself to correct her.
A/N: I did do some research on pacemakers/arrhythmia, but I'm definitely not a doctor, so if the medical stuff doesn't make sense, I'm sorry and thank you for engaging your suspension of disbelief!