It's still Wega Wednesday for a couple of hours, so here's a new chapter!
Wylie felt he was sweating out his head by the time he made it to the hospital, racing inside. Cho met him in the waiting room, pointing him toward the receptionist. She directed him to Vega's room.
"Michelle," he said, as he came through the door. She was laying in the bed, an oxygen tube under her nose. When she saw him, her eyes widened and she reached for him, sitting up. "Wylie..."
"I'm right here," he said, leaning over and curling his arms around her. She was shaking. "I'm right here. Are you okay?"
"No," she said, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "They won't tell me anything."
"They won't tell you anything?" He rocked her, gently, not wanting to let her go. "Why won't they tell you anything?"
"Well, in all fairness, they don't know anything," she said. "Except for that it's a threatened miscarriage."
"A threatened..." Wylie had no idea what that meant.
"They don't know," she said, leaning back to look at him. "The bleeding has stopped. But it's going to be a day or so before we know if..." she stopped, pressing her lips together. "If I'm still pregnant." She put a hand over her eyes. "They have to do some tests and stuff...and I'll get an ultrasound tomorrow. They said this happens sometimes...sometimes it's nothing, sometimes the pregnancy ends."
"Do they know what caused this?" Wylie asked.
She shook her head, tears springing to her eyes. "I'm so sick of hospitals, Wylie. I'm sick of something being wrong with me. I'm sick of feeling helpless."
"I know," he said. "I know. Hey," He squeezed her hand. "What can I do?"
"Nothing," she said, shaking her head and looking down. "There's nothing anybody can do."
"Hey, how is everything?"
Wylie and Vega both looked at the door. "Cho," Wylie said. "Thank you so much for bringing her, I feel awful about..."
"Hey," Cho said in his low tone, walking over to them. "You were doing your job, she got here, and everything's going to be fine."
"Maybe," Vega said quietly.
"Jason Wylie?" A nurse appeared in the door.
"Yes," Wylie said, rising and looking in her direction. "What's going on here?"
"Come with me, please, we have some things to discuss with you, briefly?"
"You can't discuss it here?"
"She just wants to give you care pamphlets to make sure you know what I can and cannot do once I go home," Vega said.
Wylie nodded, looking down at his wife. "I'll be back soon," he said, squeezing her hand.
"You hanging in there?" Cho asked as Wylie exited the room.
Vega cleared her throat. "I'm fine." She looked down. "I, uh..." She ran a finger under her eyes to clear tears.
"Hey, hey," Cho said reaching over and grabbing one of her hands. "You know what they say about women."
She looked at him curiously.
"That it's not about how long she can go before she breaks," Cho said slowly, "but how she goes on after she's been broken."
She smiled. "Are you trying to tell me not to be embarrassed?"
"Something like that." He cleared his throat. "Just remember that you've been through more than most people and you've come through it all. It's okay to feel afraid sometimes. Or not good enough. We all feel that way. I'm serious," he said when she raised her eyebrows. "You're incredible, Michelle. It's all going to be okay, trust me."
Vega was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. Okay."
A small smile from the senior agent. "You believe it's going to be okay?"
She nodded again, suddenly completely believing it. "Uh-huh."
"Good."
Wylie spent the night in Vega's room, sleeping on the floor despite the staff's continued reminders that there were comfortable – Vega laughed at that – couches in the waiting room. He refused. He wasn't leaving her side.
Not, that is, until noon, when no one had come in to do an ultrasound. After a few minutes of speaking his mind to the front desk, a doctor appeared in Vega's room to tell her that her test results would be back shortly. "Shortly" turned into nearly two hours, but finally things were happening. Vega raised her eyebrows at the doctor doing the ultrasound himself, but then noticed that Wylie looked quite pleased with himself about that.
"I'm pleased to be the one to give you the news," Dr. Fortin said, moving the sensor around over Vega's stomach, "based on the tests that we've done and this...you see this?" She pointed at a spot on the screen. "The embryo is still attached to the uterine wall." She smiled. "It seems as if you, Michelle, are still pregnant."
"Oh my God," she said, grinning wildly, her hands over her mouth. She looked at Wylie her eyes bright, and he bent down to kiss her. They looked back at the screen. "So that's our baby?" Wylie asked.
"That's your baby."
Vega's hand slipped into his. "It looks just like you," she joked. She turned to the doctor. "So, what does this mean?" she asked, serious again. "Can I go home? Is the baby in any extra danger?"
"We will discharge you today," Fortin told her. "But with strict instructions. You must eliminate any caffeine intake and avoid high stress environments. Do not use tampons or douches, and no sex until your symptoms have been gone for ten days. And if you begin to bleed again, come to us immediately."
"Did this have anything to do with...with her previous injuries?" Wylie asked, tightening his grip on his wife's hand.
"Probably not," said one of the nurses. "Many women experience bleeding of some sort. More often than not, there's no danger. In this case, we do want you to be very careful for a while, but all signs are good now."
"Thank you," Vega said, smiling up at Wylie.
When the doctor left, and the nurse went to get discharge papers, Vega sat up, dangling her legs off the bed and looking at Wylie. "I feel a little better now."
"Me too," Wylie said. "I was worried that this might have something to do with before...but now? It's all good. You're okay. You're going to be okay." He grinned from ear to ear. "That makes me the happiest person in the world."
She gave him a small smile back.
"You want anything to eat?" Wylie asked as they came in the front door.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're trying to make me feel better by offering to cook?"
"There's...leftovers."
She smirked. "No thank you. I just wanna..."
"Wanna what?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
Wylie gestured to the game consoles. "You want to play?"
She sighed. "Maybe."
"Hey," Wylie said, grabbing her hand and walking around to face her. "We got good news today."
"I know." Vega's hand instinctively went to her stomach – she'd been placing it too high prior to the scare, but now she knew exactly where the baby was at this point. "I'm just...scared, I guess."
"I am too."
Vega looked up at him, her eyes telling Wylie that he'd made the right call by being. A small smile came over her face. "But it's going to be okay."
"Yes," Wylie said, nodding. "Yes, it's going to be okay." He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. "And we get to sleep in a comfortable bed tonight!"
"You could have gone home and gotten a few hours," she said. "I was asleep anyway."
"No," Wylie said. "I was too worried about you. I had to stay in the room with you so I could keep on reminding myself, she's okay."
"Wylie," she said, annoyed, pulling back.
He frowned. "What?"
"I just..." she shook her head. "That's not enough."
"Iiiiiiii..." he continued to hold out the word for several seconds. "Iiiiiiii don't understand."
"Look," she said, coming up to him again and putting her hands on his chest, "I'm glad that I'm alive. And I know that, for you, it's enough that I'm here, that most of my days are painless..."
"I wish all of them were."
"I know," she said, "not my point. I mean, I know I'm lucky, but...I'm not like I was. And I wish it was enough for me that I'm alive, but I want to be the person I was before that."
"The nurse said the shooting had nothing to do with what happened today."
"It probably didn't." Vega reminded him of the nurse's exact words. "And even if not, I was still in the hospital again. Same old, same old. Like it's been for the past five years. If we're being honest here, Wylie, things have gotten nothing but better for you since the shooting. Everything else is the same for you, but you have me. And I have you – and I love you – but I also have a body that will never be the same. I have a body with less organs. I have a body filled with scar tissue. I have a fantastic chance of a normal life span, but odds are, fifty, sixty years down the road it will be a complication from that day in the diner that kills me. And I know you know all of that, but you don't have to live it as closely as I do, because it isn't you. You aren't as aware of it as I am, because it isn't you. And I know that people say 'Michelle, don't be frustrated. Don't be sad - others have it worse!' But no one would ever tell someone 'don't be happy, others have it better!' I'm sorry, Jay, but 'at least you're alive' doesn't work for me anymore. I don't want to just be alive."
Wylie was silent, thinking about what she said, biting his lower lip as he stared blankly off to the side. Vega waited, the kitchen so silent she could almost hear her own heartbeat again, until he nodded slowly and said, "I understand." He looked at her. "I'm sorry, babe." He stepped closer to her, she could tell he was intending to take her hands, but she took the extra step forward, bringing their bodies together and putting her hands on his chest and her forehead against her hands. He put his arms around her again. "What do you want to do?"
"Can we go to bed?" Her voice was muffled against his chest.
Wylie rubbed her back. "Sure." He kept holding her a moment longer, then stepped to the side, reached down and scooped her up. She gave a yelp of surprise, then giggled and tipped her forehead toward him as he carried her into their bedroom. Lowering her onto the bed, Wylie remained bent forward, touching first his lips then his own forehead to hers. She reached up and placed her hand on the back of his neck. "I love you a lot," she said in a whisper.
His lips reached for hers again, and she closed her eyes happily, enjoying the comfortable feel of her head being pushed against the pillow and the tender feel of her husband.
I wanted to show more of Vega's frustrations over her limitations since the shooting. She's grateful to be alive, but she hates that she's living in a more limited capacity now. Most days, her being alive and fairly functional is enough, but sometimes, she just wishes she could go back to before.