Tomorrow. He was scheduled for surgery first thing in the morning, but he had almost forgotten about it in the wake of the dream he had just had. He looked into her worried face as she waited for him to answer. "Yeah…yeah, that…that must be it."

"It will be fine, Nicky. We'll be here. You don't have anything to worry about." She smiled at him.

He forced a smile back at her and took her hand. "I know, Mom. I know."

"What time is it, Bill?"

Bill Stokes looked at his watch and answered his wife, biting his tongue about this being the fifth time she had asked in the past hour. "Half past one."

Jillian Stokes bit her lip as she looked down at her hands, twisting them together. She stopped suddenly as her husband's hand came into view and settled on tops of hers. She looked up at him as he closed his hand around one of hers and lifted it up to kiss it softly.

"Everything's going to be fine," he said.

She nodded, but looked anxiously around the waiting room.

They had been here since early in the morning after seeing Nick off to surgery. Several times a nurse had come into the room to update them on the progress; however she had not been back since the last check in about an hour ago. Neither of the Stokes voiced any concern, but each of them knew it was there nonetheless. Finally they looked up to see the surgeon coming into the room. They started to stand up, but he motioned for them to stay seated as he took the chair opposite them.

"Everything went well," he began, seeing the relief on their faces before continuing. "Just as the x-rays showed, the breaks were pretty clean. We got them set with no problems."

Both of the Stokes let out a sigh of relief at the news, but the doctor had more to tell them.

"As for his ankle...we didn't anticipate doing anything with that. Grade 3 sprains will usually heal without surgery, but since we were already in there we took a look. As you know, the ligaments were completely torn, but we also found some places where the bones in the joint had chipped. So we got those out of there too."

"So…" Bill hesitated before asking, "You think…everything will heal okay?"

The doctor smiled. "I do. With the surgical wound we weren't able to cast him yet, but it should heal up quickly and we'll get that done. For now we have it splinted to immobilize it."

"When can we see him, doctor?" Jillian asked, still anxious despite the positive news.

"I'd say in a couple of hours or so. He's in recovery now and will be monitored there for a while until he's fully conscious and we're sure there are no complications. Then we'll get him moved back to his room. You can see him then."

The Stokes took advantage of the waiting time to have a bite to eat in the hospital cafeteria before going to wait in Nick's room. They had been there for about fifteen minutes before a nurse asked them to wait outside as they brought Nick in and got him settled. The couple left the room and watched as their son was wheeled by and into the room. His eyes were closed, and he was covered with a thick layer of blankets. It took several minutes before the nurses came back out and let them know that they could go in.

"He's going to be pretty groggy still for the rest of the day," one of the nurses said. "But you can stay as long as you like."

They thanked her and then went into the room. Jillian immediately went to her son's side, pulling a chair up close. Her husband stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder. They both watched as Nick appeared to be sleeping but suddenly opened his eyes and looked at them.

"Hi," he said tiredly, blinking his eyes.

His mother reached out and took his hand. "Hi, sweetie. Everything went well. You're going to be just fine."

Nick cleared his throat and sighed deeply. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Yes. You're still pretty sleepy, aren't you?"

"Mmm hmm…"

"You just relax and get some rest. We'll be here, okay? Your father and I. We aren't going anywhere." She squeezed his hand tightly.

Nick squeezed back and mumbled some acknowledgment as he closed his eyes again.

Jillian waited until she was sure he was sleeping soundly before she let go of his hand. Her husband sat next to her and put his arm around her. "You know what I was thinking about, don't you?" she whispered without taking her eyes off of Nick.

"I do," he answered softly. "But he's fine…everything's okay now."

"What's taking them so long?"

"I don't know, Jillian!" her husband answered irritably as he paced back and forth in the waiting room. "How many times are you going to ask me that?" He immediately regretted the outburst as he saw the tears forming in her eyes. He went to her and sat at her side, taking her hands in his. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry." He put a hand against her cheek and wiped a tear away with his thumb.

"What if something's wrong? He's just a baby."

"He's six years old, honey. He's old enough…the doctor said so."

"But..."

"It's a simple operation. Kids have their tonsils out all the time. Nick will be fine." He gave her a reassuring smile. Even though he was worried as well, he wanted to be strong for her.

"But he was so scared." Jillian pulled away from her husband and reached into her pocket for a tissue that was well-worn already. She dabbed her eyes with it and then kept it in her hands, twisting it into a tight ball. "And they said it would be over already. And…they haven't updated us like they said they would."

As if to refute her statement, a man in scrubs entered the room. It wasn't the surgeon, however, nor was it the nurse who had been updating them, and this increased the couple's anxiety. Bill immediately stood up but then sat back down as the man asked as he took a seat as well. "Mr. and Mrs. Stokes, I'm Tim Hunter, the anesthesiologist for your son's surgery."

"What's wrong?" asked Jillian nervously. "Something went wrong, didn't it?"

"He's fine, Mrs. Stokes. He's in the recovery room right now and doing well. But…we did have a little bit of a problem bringing him out of the anesthesia. That's what's taken so long."

"What do you mean? What kind of problem?" It was Bill who spoke this time.

"Let me emphasize again, he's doing fine right now, okay?" Hunter tried to calm them down. "But…as we were finishing up, he began to have some difficulty breathing, so we wanted to get him awake as quickly as we could, and he just wouldn't come out of it."

Jillian stood up. "I want to see him. Now."

The man looked up at her. "Mrs. Stokes, please…"

"I said I want to see my son."

"Jillian…" Bill stood up as well and took her arm.

"Mrs. Stokes…Mr. Stokes…" Hunter stood now as well. "I promise you…we're taking very good care of him. But we need to keep an eye on him for a little bit longer…in the recovery room where we can intervene right away if there are any more problems. We'll let you see him as soon as we can."

An agonizing hour and a half later, the Stokes were rewarded finally by the sight of their son as they waited in a room in the children's ward. The sleeping little boy looked so small as he was transferred to the bed. But his mother would have none of that. She sat in a nearby rocker and insisted that she be allowed to hold him. So he was placed in her arms and she held him close to her as she rocked him back and forth.

It wasn't long before Nick began to stir, rubbing his eyes and yawning. His mother took care to make sure that he did not disturb the IV that was inserted into the back of his little hand. He opened his eyes and tried to speak, but she quickly hushed him. "Shhhh…don't try to talk, sweetie. Not until you're a little better, okay?" He insisted though and sleepily whispered something so quietly that she had to lean in close to hear him. She smiled in spite of her worry and told him, "Yes, baby, you'll get ice cream…just like we promised. Tomorrow, okay? You need to sleep first. Now no more talking."

Nick started to say something to agree but stopped, then nodded instead and laid his head against her shoulder. He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes again, and soon he succumbed to the rhythm of the rocking and the security of his mother's arms around him.

Bill had taken a seat on a small sofa nearby and he was soon sleeping as well. He awoke some time later in the night to find that his wife and son were both sound asleep in the rocker. He stood up and went to them and gently lifted the little boy out of his mother's arms and placed him into the bed, drawing the blankets up over him. Nick let out a soft sigh and turned onto his side. Jillian had barely moved when her husband took the child, so he did not disturb her. He got another blanket from the closet and covered her with it, then went back to sit on the sofa. Watching his family, he did not sleep for the rest of the night.

"Still feelin' loopy?" Warrick asked as he watched Nick trying to sit up in the bed without much luck...or coordination.

His friend gave him a scowl. "Maybe. Why?"

"'Cause you're flopping around in that bed like a fish tryin' to jump out of a boat."

"That's funny?" Nick asked as his hand lost purchase on the mattress again, causing him to slide sideways instead of up.

"A little bit...yeah." Warrick chuckled. "C'mon, man...they said you're supposed to stay still. Anyway, you aren't going anywhere with that big ol' splint on your leg." He watched as Nick tried to disprove him by pushing with both hands now as he tried to sit up, but again he slid. "See?"

"Well, Jesus, Warrick! Help me then!"

"All right, here..." Warrick leaned over and adjusted the bed so that the head of it rose up. "There. That's as far as it goes. You're not supposed to be sitting all the way up."

Nick shot him a look as he settled in and straightened the sheet around him. "Got it, mom," he said sarcastically.

Warrick sat back down in his chair and leaned back, crossing his arms. "You're awful cranky this afternoon...especially for a guy who's still pretty doped up."

Sighing, Nick pouted a moment more before saying, "I'm sorry. I'm just sick of being here. I'm sick of not being able to fend for myself. And I just want to go home."

"Yeah...I know," his friend said sympathetically. "Speaking of...any idea when you'll be out of here?"

Nick flipped the sheet up off of his splinted leg to take a look at it. It was heavily bandaged to keep it immobile, but he could see the area where the surgeon had cut down the length of the front of his leg and around his ankle. "Whenever they can put a real cast on, I guess. As soon as the incision heals some. Couple of days maybe?"

"That's good. Your folks gonna hang around then at your place for a while?"

"I don't know, man." Nick covered his leg back up with the sheet and leaned back against the pillow, sighing heavily. "Either my mom's gonna stay, or...well, she would rather I just come back home with them for now."

Warrick nodded. "Not a bad idea. You're gonna have a lot of time off coming."

"I don't want a lot of time off, Warrick. I just want things to get back to normal."

"Yeah, well..." Warrick leaned forward. "You're not getting off that easy. You know how it goes. The department's gonna wanna make sure you're 'fit' to come back so they don't get sued if you fall or something."

Nick eyed him. "Or something?"

"You know what I mean."

"I'm not gonna freak out, Warrick."

"Yeah yeah...I know," Warrick assured him. "But you know there's no way you're getting back to work without talking to somebody."

Nick fixed his friend with a stony stare. "You mean a shrink." It was not a question.

"Whatever you want to call it, but yeah. C'mon, would it be that bad?" When Nick did not answer, Warrick shrugged and added, "I'd talk to one if it was me."

"Yeah, right."

"Well, whatever. It's not up to me. Or you either probably."

A few moments of silence passed between the two men before Warrick spoke up again, changing the subject. "So...you gonna go to Texas?"

Nick shook his head. "Nah...no sense in that. I'll be able to get around pretty good before too long, and besides...she might not let me come back." He laughed a little, not sure himself if he was kidding or not.

Warrick noticed how Nick's southern accent got a little stronger when he talked about home. "She just wants to take care of you."

"I know," Nick answered softly, his eyes cast downward and his hands fidgeting. "But I can take care of myself."

"You've got a broken leg, man! You're gonna need some help! Quit trying to be some kind of superhero."

"I don't know." Nick looked back up at him. "I'll let them stay here awhile, I guess...couple of days maybe."

"Couple of days?" Warrick scoffed. "Man, you're not gonna be able to get along by yourself that soon." He shook his head. "Tell you what...I'll hang around there for a while...help you out. You let your mom baby you for a few days, and then tell them they can go on home and I'll come over."

"You don't need to do that, Warrick."

"I want to. It's no problem. Or hey…you could stay at my place instead. Either way." When Nick hesitated before saying anything else, Warrick grew more serious and added, "Really…c'mon, Nick…I want to."

Nick looked down again, biting his lip as he considered his friend's offer. He hated having to ask anyone for help, but he had to admit that it would be better than disrupting his parents' lives any more than he already had done. He knew they wanted to be there for him and to support him, but he also knew they couldn't stay in Vegas indefinitely. Knowing that he had friends to help him out would be sure to make them feel better about leaving him. Finally he looked at Warrick and nodded. "Okay…okay, that sounds good. Thanks, Warrick."

Warrick broke into a grin. "All right, then. It's a deal."

Thank you all for reading! I really appreciate it! I hope you like this chapter. We're getting close to the end now. Please leave a little review and let me know what you think! :-)