A/N: Sorry this is a bit later than I wanted for the Saturday update. I've had a migraine from hell for the past two days, and then tonight, my A/C (non battery) smoke detector decided that it would go off. I managed to get the cover off without electrocuting myself and at least get the volume down some, but I think it has a short in the system. So I get to deal with that until I can get an electrician to come out and see what the heck is going on.
Thank you again for the follows and alerts, and for those who take the time to review. It really makes my day to read what you thought.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything - especially a working smoke detector.
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It didn't take Kamekona very long to bring his favorite taste tester her shave ice – he made Steve promise to tell her that he was creating a new flavor just for her. As soon as she was feeling better, she had an invitation to come to his stand, and decide what combination of flavors worked best. He had plans to name it after Grace as well – he couldn't help but have a soft spot for his pint-sized assistant.
Steve thanked him with a clap on the shoulder, and a promise of a larger order for the whole pediatric wing, once Grace was on her way home. It was a way to say thanks to the staff for taking care of not only his niece, but his entire ohana; and a hopeful reminder of happiness for the patients on the floor.
He stalled on his way back to Grace's room, wanting to give Danny all the time that he needed with Grace. While he was in the PICU family waiting room – still keeping Grace's room in his sights – he ran into Dr. Mitchell, who came over and sat down.
"Hello, Commander. How are you doing?"
Steve reached out and shook her hand. "I'm doing as well as I can. I'll be much better once Grace is out of here – no offense, Doc."
She smiled a wide grin. "None taken. I would feel the same way if I were you." Knowing that he was authorized to receive information regarding Grace's care, she looked down at the chart she was holding before meeting his curious gaze.
"Grace is holding her own, which we like to see. I'm still concerned that she's not eating, and is barely drinking anything by mouth. I'm not entirely comfortable sending her to the regular floor until her intake is higher. I was on my way to see her, and let Detective Williams know that I wanted to keep her one more night in the PICU, and if we can entice her to at least drink something, then move her to the regular ward in the morning, sometime."
Steve nodded. "She hasn't really seemed to want anything, although she did perk up a little bit at the thought of a shave ice, so I had one brought in for her. A friend of ours owns a stand, so he was more than happy to deliver for Grace."
Dr. Mitchell nodded. "It's so wonderful to see the amount of support that Grace has – it's going to go a long way to helping her recover."
Steve cleared his throat softly. "Well, she's pretty special to all of us – there's nothing we wouldn't do to help her get through this."
The gray-haired woman contemplated her next words, before taking a deep breath. "I've asked for a consult with one of our Child and Family psychiatrists. Grace's nurse has noted that she has had a couple of nightmares as a result of what's happened. Now I don't think it's anything drastically serious, but I am concerned that she may be suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder – and given what happened to her, I'm not at all surprised."
Steve looked stricken for a moment. It wasn't that he was necessarily stunned by what she had to say; but rather the idea of Grace being diagnosed with something that was typically associated with combat veterans threw him for a loop. Now he knew that anybody could be diagnosed with PTSD, depending on what type of traumatic event happened to them, but his own background was military, so that was where his mind immediately went. He personally knew members of SEAL teams who lived – and he used that term loosely – with PTSD every day of their lives, and were shells of the men that he served with.
Dr. Mitchell had a pretty good idea of where his head went, so she reached out and squeezed his arm. "Commander…Steve…please don't go there. I imagine I know what you may be thinking, and I want to assure you that this is not a life sentence for Grace. I fully believe that with a bit of guidance, a safe place – and permission – to get mad, and some skills to help her respond to potential anxious situations, she will be fine. What happened to her was a shock, but PTSD in children is vastly different than PTSD with adults – the military especially."
Steve sat back, his face pale. He truly thought he may be sick at the thought that Danny's little girl – who was as happy as happy could be – could potentially have this cloud hanging over her.
Dr. Mitchell could see the wheels turning, and placed her other hand gently on his shoulder. "Steve, it's going to be okay. Grace is a very lucky little young lady. She has a family who loves her, and an ohana that would do anything for her. She is not alone in this. Kids who typically struggle with this diagnosis – this temporary diagnosis - are kids who are afraid to talk to their family; who shut people out; and who do not have a good support system. Now, do any of those apply to Grace?"
Steve shook his head mutely.
"So that tells me that this is just a speed bump. It's doubtful that this is a permanent situation that will require long-term treatment. Kids are resilient. Please try to remember that, okay? She may look to you and to her father for guidance, as she sees that you are both very strong mentally. She may wonder whether how she is getting through this is the right way. Just reassure her that there is no 'official' right way to deal with everything – but as long as she tries to keep talking to the people who love her, that she will be okay."
Steve blew out a breath. This whole situation sucked. There was no other way around it. He would gladly take this from her and Danny if he could – and he hated that he couldn't. That's what made this so much worse for him – he couldn't really do anything to fix this for her.
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Danny wondered what was taking Steve so long to return. Grace wasn't really sleeping, but was comfortably relaxed against her father. He kept playing with her hair, knowing that it was something that she had always loved.
Ami had come in and asked what Grace might like for lunch. She had no restrictions, and could order anything off of the dietary menu, but Grace declined. She just wasn't hungry, and nothing sounded good.
Danny hoped that she would at least have some of the shave ice, because if she didn't, he was liable to start to ramp up to panic mode over his daughter's lack of interest in pretty much everything. He knew that it was normal, the way she was acting - Dr. Mitchell had reminded him of that when she came to let him know of her decision to keep Grace in the PICU for one more night. But it still hurt him tremendously to have a front row seat, watching her, practically a shell of herself.
Every so often, Grace would shiver, and Danny wondered whether it was a reaction to the slight chill in the room, or a reaction to everything that had happened. He didn't have too much time to dwell on things, as Steve poked his head into the room.
Danny could see that Steve was upset – his face was tense and anxious. Before he could ask him about it though, Danny watched as Steve schooled his features and replaced the worry with a smile for Grace. The SEAL pulled back the sheets of the 'fort', for now; so that they could all have better access to Grace. He didn't take the sheets away entirely, though, - there was no way of knowing when Grace might need that safety net again.
"Hey, Gracie. Kamekona brought a shave ice for you. He also said to tell you that when you feel better, he wants you to come down to the truck. He said that you get to invent a new flavor of shave ice, and he's even going to name it after you. Isn't that cool?"
Danny and Steve were beyond thrilled to see a brief flash of excitement in Grace's eyes. She nodded, and said, "Can I, Danno?"
Danny kissed the side of her head. "Of course you can, Monkey. Just as soon as you're feeling up to it, okay?" He helped her sit up against the pillows, mindful of her IV and catheter.
With a flourish, Steve placed the small cup of shave ice on the table, and handed her a straw with a spoon at the end of it.
She slowly picked at the treat, but Danny didn't make a big deal out of it. She was at least eating some, even if it didn't seem enough to keep a bird alive. It was the first thing that she hadn't outright refused, so even though it was a small victory, he would take it.
After about five minutes of idle small talk between Danny and Steve, there was a light knock on the door frame. Grace immediately set the straw down, and Steve could see her heart rate start to inch its way up.
A young woman poked her head into the room, but stayed at a safe distance, so that Grace would not have to worry. "Detective Williams? I'm Dr. Teleia. Do you mind if I talk to you for a minute? We'll just be outside the door, if that's okay with Grace."
Steve had a feeling that this was the psychiatrist that Dr. Mitchell had consulted with. Danny shared a look with Grace, and made sure that she knew the decision was hers. He wanted to try to give her opportunities to gain back some of the control she had lost.
After a few moments, she nodded before looking to Steve. He winked at her, signaling that he would not leave her side, for as long as she needed him there.
He stood to help Danny maneuver his way out of the bed before taking his vacated place. Slowly, Steve noticed that Grace's heart rate had started to return to normal, and she even reached for the straw, taking a few more tiny bites of the shave ice.
Danny turned to face the new doctor, all the while, keeping one eye on his daughter. The petite blonde was a bit shorter than Danny, but had a presence about her that made her seem larger than life.
She smiled and held out her hand. "Detective? It's nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Jane Teleia. I'm a child and adolescent psychiatrist, although I do treat families as well. Dr. Mitchell has asked me to consult on Grace's case, if you are amenable to that."
Danny leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes. 'Hell no, he was not amenable to his daughter needing a psychiatrist after what that asshole Murdock had done.' He supposed he ought to not say that out loud, so he plastered what he hoped was a passable smile onto his face and turned back to the doctor. "What are you thinking is the best way to help her? I'll admit it – I hate that she even needs to see you in the first place. But regardless of what I think, the most important thing in the world to me is lying in that bed, so if you think you can help her, then I will agree."
Dr. Teleia smiled softly. "Detective Williams, I get it. I truly do. And in looking through Grace's chart, I'm pretty comfortable in saying that she should come through this just fine. I'd like to talk to her, but I want to make sure you are with her. She's likely to feel much more comfortable with you there, and it's certainly not my goal to make her uncomfortable."
Danny nodded. "I'd like to explain it to her first, though. Grace knows that I'm always honest with her."
Dr. Teleia nodded. "That's perfect, actually. That will give me time to go and get my assistant. Don't worry, Detective. He is very attuned to what children need. I think he gets better results than I do."
Danny looked skeptical, but finally agreed. "Oh, and it's Danny. Detective is pretty formal at this point."
Dr. Teleia grinned as she headed towards the elevators. "See you in a few minutes, Danny."
Danny blew out a breath and tried to calm his nerves, before moving back into the room.
As he moved towards the bed, he couldn't help but grin as he noticed Steve trying to look at his tongue – ostensibly to see if it was purple, although he couldn't be sure. What he was sure of, though, was the big smile that Grace had on her face as she watched her Uncle Steve. And if he didn't know any better, he'd guess that Steve was doing whatever he could think of to get Grace to smile.
"So Grace. Remember when I said that there were people who were good listeners for when we are sad? Well, Dr. Teleia is one of those people. She wants to come and meet us, but had to go to her office first. Would it be okay if she came in and talked to us?"
Steve didn't miss Danny's inclusion of himself, and was glad that he was willing to hash out some of his own feelings as well.
Grace looked unsure, and glanced back and forth between the two adults. "What if…"
Danny sat back on the edge of the bed. "What if, what, Monkey?"
Grace bit her bottom lip again. "What if she's mean?"
Danny shook his head, and reached for Grace's hand. "Well, I can assure you that she's not the least bit mean. Her job is to help kids and families figure things out when stuff is all jumbled up in their head, like I'm pretty sure we're all dealing with. She's really nice, and only wants to help you get better. But it's up to you, baby. If you don't want to talk to her, you don't have to."
Danny knew that he was taking a risk – he realized that Grace needed help, but at this point, he would let her try to guide her healing.
Grace's eyebrows were pinched together in thought, before finally looking up at her dad. "Okay, Danno. I'll try."
There was a light knock on the door, and Dr. Teleia again took her place just inside the doorway. "Is it okay for us to come in?"
Grace looked a little hesitant – Danno hadn't mentioned an 'us'. Danny and Steve both smiled, as they could see just who her assistant was, but Grace didn't have that same vantage point.
"Come on in, Doc."
Dr. Teleia entered the room, followed by the most beautiful Golden Retriever Grace had ever seen. She immediately perked up just a bit. "Hi everyone. This is my assistant, Riley. Riley is a therapy dog, and has this crazy ability to just love on people who are struggling with some yucky things that have happened to them. See, he didn't have a very good life when he was a puppy, but thankfully, some people were able to save him and make him better. Now, he lives and works with me, helping me help kids feel better. So Grace, would it be okay if Riley hung out on your bed with you while we all talked?"
Grace looked around the room, before her eyes settled on Steve. She could tell he was getting ready to leave, thinking he needed to give them time alone, but she had an idea. "Uncle Steve? Would you stay, too? I know you were sad earlier, so maybe Riley could help you feel better, too. Please?"
Dr. Teleia took that as her first opportunity to talk to Grace, as she motioned for Riley to hop up onto the foot of the bed. "Grace, why do you think your Uncle Steve was sad?"
Grace immediately held one hand out for Riley to sniff, and smiled as he gently flopped over onto his side for a belly rub. Keeping her eyes on the dog, she whispered, "I know he was sad because he found me – and I was sick. I think I scared him – but not on purpose – but I think it was scary for him when he found me." She lightly began to stroke Riley's fur, and tried not to give in to the anxious feelings that were bubbling at the surface.
Grace's thoughts were a bit disjointed, but seeing how she was at least trying to open up to the psychologist, Steve simply pulled a chair up on the other side of Grace's bed and reached for her hand. As she began the task of sorting out her feelings, Steve was once again amazed at the strength of Danny's daughter.
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