Chapter Fourteen: Through A Glass Darkly

In honour of one of my wonderful and much appreciated reviewers, who just happens to be a nurse, a new character is named in her honour. And, having had several nasty maims and operations to repair the same , I am so grateful to all the nurses who've helped me over the years. Of course, as anyone who has ever been subjected to their tender mercies will testify, the scariest people in the medical profession are the physiotherapists.

Anyway – enough of my ramblings – read on and enjoy. And maybe even review?

Callen had spent an equally unpleasant night in the hospital. Not content with vomiting copiously, to the extent where he had to be given the type of anti-emetic drugs normally given to chemotherapy patients, it had been decreed that it was necessary for him to lie face down for at least a week in order for the surgery to be as effective as possible. As he was accustomed to sleeping on his back, this had been a major problem and the combination of the two factors meant that he had very little sleep indeed. Added to which, while all the doctors were agreed that the surgery had gone as well as could be expected (a phrase that was nicely designed to be totally noncommital, no doubt for legal purposes) they could give no guarantees that his eyesight would be fully restored. It was cold comfort to be told that he had the benefit of one eye with twenty-twenty vision and it was rare for another spontaneous retinal tear to occur in that eye. In consequence, his normally positive mood had completely disappeared.

The only positive thing about the whole squalid farce was that at least this morning he was no longer setting Olympic records in dry-heaving and that Nurse Melkatt seemed to think the worst was over and that there was no reason Callen could not be allowed to have visitors. The thought of seeing Nico was incredibly exciting, until he realised that in his prone position, "seeing" was perhaps not quite the right word to use. However, at least one positive thing was happening. Lying face down, staring at the floor was incredibly boring and the worst thing was that it gave Callen's mind the chance to float off and dwell on all number of unpleasant issues he would much rather have avoided thinking about altogether. Such as the prospect of an enforced and unwanted major career change and, which was probably worse, the prospect of driving a desk for the rest of his working life. But given the only other alternative seemed to eking out an existence on disability, it was not entirely clear which was the lesser of the two evils.

And the other thing that stalked his thoughts with nimble-footed glee was the worry about his team. Sam and Deeks were out there on that damned mountain and he should have been with them. And it wasn't anything to do with how capable Sam was – because the guy was damn good: Callen had trusted him with protecting his back too many times to count. He'd literally put his life in Sam's hands and he'd not been let down. No, that wasn't the point at all. What niggled him was the thought that he should have been there to look out for them and that because he was lying here, he had failed them. If anything happened, Callen reasoned, it would be his fault. He was good at guilt-tripping himself, having had years of practice.

He knew Sam was a great leader, and that it was only fair he should have this opportunity to prove himself. Callen was even pretty sure that NCIS had offered Sam his own team, after the success he'd made when Callen had been shot and spent four months off work. But deep in his heart, Callen knew that he wasn't ready for Sam to take over running his team. And that was yet another stick to beat himself over the head with. Or poke in his eye. Whatever.

All nurses have skills. They deal with situations which would send most other people running away in the opposite direction as fast as possible and then they comfort and console their patients and their families, no matter what. They are the patient's first line of help, the person who is there in the deadest part of the night when sleep is impossible and only the very worst thoughts consume the mind and at all the times in between. And, over the years, some nurses develop extra skills, and can discern a problem that is not vocalised. All it took was for Nurse Melkatt to take one look at Callen's back to realise that something was badly wrong.

"Did the doctor tell you about the success rates for this operation?"

"Yes, he did." Callen spoke in a dull monotone, clearly indicating his wish to be elft alone.

She didn't give up that easily and persevered. "And did he tell you that the operation went perfectly that this was as near to a text-book case as he had ever seen? And that the prognosis was excellent?"

"Yes, he did. But he couldn't promise a full recovery." Callen shrugged his shoulders.

"Do you promise people 100% success in your line of work?" Jane Melkatt enquired in an interested voice.

That got an immediate and indignant response. "That's different. Completely different. I'm dealing with people's lives and I can't ever give those sort of guarantees."

"And yet you told me that your eyesight was essential – that in effect it was your life. But you expect the doctor to give you exactly the sort of guarantee you expressly refuse to give to others." She moved closer to the bed and placed her hand on his arm. "I know you're angry and scared and you've got every right to be. But that's not going to help. It could even impede your progress. Focus on the positive aspects. Concentrate on the fact that there is every chance you are going to make a full and complete recovery."

"Instead of lying here feeling sorry for myself?" There was more colour in his voice, the hint even of self-mockery.

"Instead of being frightened. Don't let the fear take over. Give yourself a chance." She patted his hand briefly.

"I'm pretty good at beating myself up," Callen admitted.

"Well, stop it right now."

Wow! She stands no nonsense! And here was me thinking she was one of the less scary nurses. Talk about misjudging a situation!

"Yes, ma'am! Promising to do as I'm told and be a good boy."

Jane could hear the laughter and judged it was safe to leave. "And, by the way, there's a lady waiting outside to see you. Shall I send her in?"

That could either be very good or very bad. And Callen wasn't about to leave anything to chance right now. "Young or old?" It would either be Nico or Hetty. And he wasn't quite sure he was up to seeing Hetty at the moment.

"Young and very beautiful. And very anxious to see you."

"Send her in." The smile was back in his voice. Nurse Melkatt thought her patient had a lovely voice, and the rest of him wasn't too bad either. It was a pity about his hair though.

"If NCIS gave out prizes for rear of the year, you'd be a shoo-in. But it's going to make things a little difficult, isn't it?" Nico sat down on the side of the bed and caressed his rump affectionately. "I never could quite work out why these hospital gowns gaped up the back, but it all makes perfect sense now." And her hand was a warm and soft and incredibly tantalising. Some states probably had a law against what she was doing.