Michelle bent over him, pushing the hair back from his forehead, her fingers feeling cool against his hot face. She observed him in silence for a minute, with a worried expression. 'Tony, Chappelle promised I'd be back by the evening. Are you sure you'll be ok till then?'
Tony grinned reassuringly at her. 'Honey, I'll be fine! It's only a little fever. I'll rest a bit.'
Michelle pursed her lips. 'It's hardly just a little fever, sweetheart. You nearly drowned, you have a broken arm and your wrist is infected. You should still be in the hospital.'
Tony closed his eyes, resting against the pillows. He had hated the three days they kept him in the hospital, longing to be allowed to go home. He had been released with great reluctance the day before when Michelle had promised to nurse him at home and he had promised to rest in bed.
'The doctor is coming at seven. I'll be back by then. I brought you some juice and a plate of fruit, and there's a sandwich,' she pointed to a second plate on the bedside table. 'Your medicines are all there too, don't forget to take your antibiotics after three, and I'll just give you another two aspirins now.' She handed him two small white tablets and his juice, waiting until he swallowed them down. 'Sweetheart, I must go. I'm really sorry.'
'It's not your fault,' he told her, laying the juice back on the tray. 'I'll be ok. Go on, you don't want to keep Chappelle waiting!'
Michelle left with a last lingering look at him. He heard her opening the door before she rushed back. 'Tony, you're to stay in bed, promise.'
He grinned at her amused, half enjoying the fuss he had been given during the previous day and half exasperated. 'I promise.'
Michelle left the apartment and he lay back on his pillows, rubbing his eyes. He had been struggling with a book about a POW all morning, losing his place regularly. What he really needed was a strong coffee, which Michelle had decided he wasn't getting till he got a little better. 'How was he supposed to feel better this way?' he wandered. Slowly he pushed himself up with his good arm and swung his legs out of bed. The ground swayed beneath him as he made his way to the kitchen, leaning against the wall for support on the way.
Tony knelt down and opened a cupboard door, lifting out the coffee machine carefully with one arm. He opened the top cupboard's door and pulled out a jar of coffee, placing a spoonful in the machine and adding water. He switched it on and went to rest on the couch, allowing his thoughts to wander. 'At least no one can say I'm not a good swimmer,' he thought, remembering the hours he'd spent alone in the ocean with his hands tied behind him. A delicious aroma of coffee filled the room causing his mouth to water. He got up more cheerfully and poured himself a cupful, sipping it slowly on a barstool. He felt better than he had for days swallowing the hot liquid. One more cup remained in the coffee machine. Tony decided he'd drink that later in the afternoon and then he'd have to clean the machine and replace it in the cupboard before Michelle returned.
The phone rang in the kitchen, startling him. He lifted the receiver. 'Almeida.'
'Tony!' He heard the exasperation in Michelle's voice as clearly as if she'd been in the same room with him. 'What are you doing in the kitchen? You promised to stay in bed, remember?'
'Yeah honey, I was just going back,' he said, hoping she wouldn't question him too closely. Evidently she was extremely busy for she let it go at that, repeating her instructions about staying in bed. He rinsed his cup and headed back to the bedroom, taking the TV guide with him. There had to be something on that was worth watching! Carefully he climbed back into bed, taking care not to put any weight on the broken arm.
He lay back against the pillows, resting quietly for a couple of minutes. He slept for a while, waking up refreshed and more alert than he had been in the morning. What should he do next? Idly he picked up the TV guide, amazed at the amount of rubbish it showed. Well, he would watch a video then. He climbed out of bed and went to the living room, kneeling down to open the glass cabinet the video was in. He pulled out the tapes, sighing as he noticed his own had been pushed to the back and all the romantic ones lay at the front. He found a science fiction and put it on, settling on the couch, absorbed in a monster hunting for stranded humans on an abandoned space station, eating the pieces of fruit Michelle had cut up for him.
A loud ring interrupted the movie. Tony switched the TV off and grabbed his t-shirt, walking to the door as rapidly as he could. Bored as he was he would welcome anyone now, though he did wander who knew he was home that day.
'Hi Tony,' Jack greeted him, looking him over from head to foot. 'I went to visit you in the hospital, but they said you're already home. That was fast.'
'I'm fine, there was no need to stay any longer,' Tony said, feeling a sudden wave of dizziness take him. 'Want to come in for a bit?' he asked uncertainly, leaning against the wall for support.
'Sure,' Jack agreed, glancing round his apartment.
'Sit down,' Tony told him, moving a pile of ironing that lay on an armchair. He found two bottles of beer in the fridge and handed one to Jack. He hoped Jack wouldn't tell Michelle he'd seen the coffee machine. Exhausted, he sank onto the couch.
'They wouldn't let anyone visit you for the first two days and I didn't have time yesterday,' Jack explained. 'What are you doing with yourself?'
Tony shook his head. 'Not much! Trying to find a tape I haven't seen recently.'
Jack bent forward to examine the pile on the floor. 'They're Michelle's' Tony said hurriedly.
Jack nodded, grinning. 'Of course. So Tony, you decided to disarm ten men single handed and then take a swim with your hands tied and one broken arm several miles off the coast. Not a bad way to spend a night, really!'
Tony grinned wryly. 'Yeah, I got to view a spectacular sunrise!' He fell silent; having been certain it was his last.
Jack seemed to understand, for he nodded silently. They drank their beer, wandering what to discuss. 'How's Sanchez?' Tony inquired finally, laying his empty bottle on the floor. 'He was a great sniper back in the army.'
'He's excellent,' Jack agreed. 'Baker is really impressed with him. If you know any others who need a job, let him know.'
'I will,' Tony said, relieved. He had found Sanchez a job as a member of a swat team, knowing the man could do little else but shoot.
'Do you need anything?' Jack asked, glancing at his arm. Tony scowled at the sling.
'This thing is a nuisance. Could you help me open that large window? It kind of takes two hands.'
Jack opened the window and the smell of coffee slowly left the room. Jack wished him a pleasant few days rest and left, leaving Tony to watch the rest of the movie. When it was finished he took his medicine and put the tapes away. Feeling dizzy again he went back to bed, closing his eyes. He slept almost two hours before his cell phone woke him. 'Almeida' he said, trying to wake up properly.
'Tony, where are you? You sound like you just woke up?' questioned his father, puzzled.
Tony sighed. He was going to get a visit from his parents within the next half hour, he was certain. 'I'm home. I hurt my arm, so I've got a week off.'
'Tony, what happened?' asked his father, beginning to sound worried.
'Papa, I'm fine,' he said, sounding better as he woke up. 'I was just resting, that's all. How was San Francisco?'
'It's ok. I think I'll come and see you. You'll be home, won't you?'
'Yeah,' he answered with a sigh. He had hoped his parents would spend another couple of days with his sister Rita before returning. He hung up and climbed out of bed, running his comb through his hair and washing his face. His wrist throbbed and he felt warm again – obviously it was time for his antibiotics, aspirin and painkiller. Pouring himself more juice he took them all, feeling violently sick a few minutes later.
His parents gazed at him shocked into silence when he opened the door, leaning on it for support. 'Tony, what happened? You shouldn't be up!' exclaimed his mother, helping him across the apartment and back to bed. He couldn't help agreeing with her, the mixture of medicines was making him feel awful. 'Lie down, close your eyes. Don't tell me you took all these at once?' continued his mother, holding up the packets. She shook her head when he nodded. 'I'll get you a little weak tea, it'll help.'
He felt better after sipping the tea. Chewing his lip he sat up in bed, pushing a pillow behind him. 'Want to tell us what happened to your arm?' questioned his father, pulling out a chair. His mother sat on the bed beside him, feeling his cheek. She brought him a wet cloth which she placed on his forehead.
'Thanks mom.' He closed his eyes for a moment, forcing them open again. 'My arm was broken and I was thrown out of a boat. I stopped some guys from blowing something up.'
'How long were you in the water?' asked his father, pacing up and down the way he did when he was extremely agitated.
'About six hours,' Tony replied, avoiding his gaze.
They both spoke at once, clearly horrified. 'How could you swim with a broken arm, Tony?' asked his mother.
He pushed his good arm further under the blanket. 'Antonio, what happened to your wrist?' questioned his father, pointing to the bandage a few inches below his plaster cast. Tony turned his face the other way, not wishing to see their reaction.
'They tied it too tightly and it got infected.' His father walked round the room, facing him.
'No no no. They threw you in with your hands tied?' Tony nodded. He saw a new expression in his father's face. 'Where are these people, Antonio?'
His mother got up in a hurry and placed a hand on his arm. 'Calm down, Marco. He's ok now.'
'They're in prison,' Tony said. 'And I'm fine now.' He gazed firmly at his parents.
'No you're not,' said his mother. 'Shouldn't someone be with you?'
'Michelle was with me all morning, but she got called in to work. Our boss isn't impressed about us yet,' he admitted. 'That we're together.'
'It isn't any of his business,' exclaimed his father in surprise.
Tony sighed heavily. 'He'll think it is! He thinks everything under the sun is his business.' He fell silent, never having explained about Chappelle arresting him a couple of months ago. That was an incident he had resolved never to mention under any circumstance, knowing it would frighten his parents.
'Tony, what are you eating tonight?' inquired his mother, practical as usual. He shrugged, telling her he supposed Michelle would order a pizza. His mother looked distressed and went to the kitchen to prepare a meal, leaving him alone with his father.
'Get some sleep, Antonio,' he said, sitting back in the chair. 'Just close your eyes and rest.'
Tony closed his eyes, intending to rest for a few moments only and then listen to his parents' holiday in San Francisco, but weariness overtook him. He fell asleep listening to his mother working in the kitchen.
Michelle woke him with a kiss in the evening, hugging him tightly. 'Hi Tony, how are you? Your mom cooked a fantastic dinner.' She raised his pillows and helped him to sit up, handing him a tray. 'I cut up your meat for you, sweetheart.'
'Thanks honey,' he said, watching her carry her own plate into the bedroom and lay it down on the dressing table. They ate together, Michelle explaining that the emergency she had been summoned to deal with consisted solely of incomplete case files. They laughed together. 'Sweetheart, it is an emergency, if you think like Ryan. Let's consider the poor guy. He eats dinner uneasily, struggles to focus on the evening movie, and suffers insomnia agonizing over CTU's incomplete documents. He wakes up in the morning with one thought on his mind "I've got to call that slack guy Almeida first thing!" And instead of feeling sorry for him or being ashamed that tiresome Almeida is going to offer some ill thought out excuse.'
Michelle laughed with him. 'I'm glad you're feeling a bit better, Tony. You looked pretty sick in the morning.' She took his tray and carried it out to the kitchen, returning with a shy smile on her face. 'I got you something. Guess which hand.'
Tony grinned, curious to see his present. 'Right hand' he said, and Michelle opened an empty hand. 'Ok, the left then,' he said, and she withdrew a book. He took it, reading the title. 'Michelle, you're incredible! It's about baseball.'
'There's a whole chapter about the Cubs' she told him, enjoying his delight. 'Look, there's pictures, there's interviews, lots of stats - everything you already know and hopefully more too. If I'm lucky it'll keep you in bed till the doctor says you can get up.'
'Honey, I wouldn't dream of moving,' he told her, looking through the pictures. 'This was published pretty recently, that guy just joined the team last season.'
'Today was it's first day on the shelf,' she told him, running a comb though his hair. 'Oh, Tony, if I catch you out of bed for any reason and I mean any reason at all, I'll take it straight back and get a refund!'
'Ow honey, you wouldn't be that mean!' he said, watching a smile creep across her face. 'You would? Ok, so I'll really have to stay in bed then.'
'Good. I'm glad we understand each other,' Michelle teased, getting up to answer a ring on the door. 'That's the doctor now. Be honest with him, Tony, you're already at home.'
Tony rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. 'Honey, I'm fine. Oh, he'll find something alright; it's his job, so he can get paid for coming tomorrow too, but really…'
'Really you should still be in hospital,' Michelle said sternly. 'So behave!'
'Fine. As long as he keeps his needles in his bag!' Tony retorted to her back as she opened the door.
'Good evening Tony,' said the doctor, putting his bag on the floor. 'How are you? No wait, I won't ask, you'll only tell me you're fine. How has he been?' he asked, turning to Michelle.
Behind his back Tony placed a finger on his lips, giving Michelle a meaningful look. 'He's a little better at the moment, but he was pretty sick this afternoon,' Michelle said. Tony narrowed his eyes and shook his head at her, stopping when the doctor turned to face him.
He sat forward and breathed in and out for the doctor, knowing in advance the man would fail to be satisfied. 'Not much improvement at all, I'm afraid. Seems it's a nasty infection. Keep taking the antibiotics and if there's no improvement by tomorrow I'll write you up a stronger one. You've been resting in bed all day, I hope?'
'Sure,' Tony agreed, not wishing to be taken back to hospital. 'I've been here the entire day!'
'And you've drunk the six liters of water I ordered to keep flushing the salt out of your system?' questioned the doctor, not completely satisfied, taking out his blood pressure machine. 'And stayed right away from coffee?'
Tony nodded, reminding himself that he still had three liters of water left to drink that day. 'Yeah.'
The doctor gave him a doubtful look. 'Well your blood pressure is still a little elevated. Maybe you should drink another liter of water now, and drink seven tomorrow! Now let me see your wrist.' He left, reminding Tony he would back the following evening and would readmit him to hospital if he found no improvement.
Tony groaned aloud once Michelle closed the door behind him. 'What did I tell you, honey? I'm fine, but he found a reason to come tomorrow too!'
Michelle turned the bedside lamp on; leaving the room dimly lit, and settled his pillows, lying him down. 'I'll get you some more water, sweetheart, and then you should get some rest.' She returned a few minutes later with another bottle of water, ordering him to drink it all.
Tony nodded, sitting up and swallowing the water slowly. 'It's ironic, honey, giving this much water to a guy they barely saved from a secondary drowning,' he remarked, remembering his panic at losing the ability to breathe hours after they flew him to hospital. He saw Michelle's face pale, and squeezed her hand. 'It's ok now honey, I made it.'
Michelle lay on the bed beside him, hugging him as tightly as she could. Startled, he felt his arm moist where she had buried her face. 'Honey, are you crying?' he asked softly. 'Shush, it's over now.'
'It nearly was,' Michelle wept. 'One minute you seemed ok, then you were gasping for air, then you stopped breathing and all the alarms came on and these doctors and nurses rushed in and they took me out.' She sniffed. 'Then they put you on a respirator and told me there wasn't much chance you'd make it, and you were there over eighteen hours…' Fresh tears poured from her eyes.
Tony pulled her closer, wishing he could use his other arm to wipe her tears. 'Lucky I don't remember any of it.'
Michelle got up, turning off the light. 'Get some sleep. I'll just do the dishes and I'll join you.'
He lay in the darkness waiting for her, determined to fall asleep in her arms. She returned a lot sooner than he expected, switching the bedroom light on. Her face had an annoyed expression on it.
'Tony! Care to tell me why the coffee machine isn't in its usual spot? And why it's a lot cleaner than when I put it away last?'
He gazed at her guiltily, knowing he had been caught. 'I have the right to remain silent…' he began, while she strode across the room, giving his shoulder a hard push. 'Ow, honey, don't fight! It was just one cup, honest.'
'I just can't trust you to behave, can I? Tomorrow you're being locked in the bedroom!' she said firmly, going out to continue the dishes.
Tony sighed heavily. 'Oh mom, why did you have to clean the coffee machine,' he muttered.
'Can you tell me how long I'm being detained tomorrow?' he asked Michelle when she joined him in bed a few minutes later. Moonlight streaming through the window showed a small smile light her face.
'Not just tomorrow, Tony! Until the doctor says you're better,' she replied.
'Ow honey! That'll be days. Do I get parole for good behavior?' he whispered back.
Michelle giggled, pulling him closer to her. 'Not a chance, Tony Almeida! You're staying here, and I'll watch you very closely.'
'How closely?' he questioned, running his hand seductively down her body.
She kissed him, settling in his arm. 'That depends on how well you are. Real close, I think. Goodnight, Tony!'
Loud cursing from down the corridor reached his ears, echoing round his cell. 'I'm not staying in this shithole! Who the hell do you think I am? I got my rights! I got my phone call! Where the hell's my ----ing lawyer?' Loud clanging followed, each blow reverberating through Tony's head. 'Hello! You're not listening to me! I GOT MY RIGHTS! Get me some shit lawyer or let me the hell out of here! You can't keep me here. This is the United States! I got rights!' More banging followed, rounded off with a string of curses.
Tony opened his mouth to make an angry retort before closing it silently; knowing anything he would yell would only agitate his neighbor further. He threw the blanket over his head in disgust, attempting to escape the noise. It floated through slightly muffled. 'I got my rights!'
The corridor opened. 'So did the woman you strangled, you bastard. Shut the hell up,' yelled the guard who had returned his blanket. A moment later the guard banged on his own cell. 'Prisoner, up!'
Tony climbed out of bed and stood in the middle of the cell, remembering to place his hands behind his back. 'What now?' he exclaimed impatiently.
'You're forbidden to keep your head and your hands under the blanket. If I see that again I will remove the blanket!' To his surprise the guard made no mention of placing him on report for his rudeness.
'Yeah, but that guy's driving me nuts! Can't you shut him up?' Tony begged.
Amazingly the guard answered him. 'I've asked him. There's little else I can do except reduce his rations tomorrow. Everyone is allowed an hour or so of yelling.' He turned away.
'I don't believe this place!' Tony muttered, lying back down on his bed.
