Because of the problems readers have had with being able to get in to read this chapter I've removed and reposted it. Apologies to anyone who got in to read it yesterday and thought this was another new update.
Thank you for all your lovely reviews, they keep me working on this story and help to keep me focussing on it. Sorry for the long wait in-between chapters.
Will's shoes squeak on the freshly cleaned linoleum and his soles leave imprints on the pale damp grey flooring. The intensive care unit is unnaturally bright, even for the middle of the day, bright halogenic lights shining down on the occupants in each bed, whilst the beeping of machines are now almost drowned out by the chatter of staff and the near constant ringing of the telephone at the main desk. As he approaches the top of the ward, Will can see Elizabeth's security watching him. He runs a hand through his shaggy blonde hair and shoots them what he hopes is a winning smile as he draws closer to them. One raises an eyebrow, before there is a spark of recognition and he nods his head towards the single room.
Stepping inside, Will isn't surprised to see that Henry is still perched in his chair at Lizzie's bedside and that her hand is still encased in his. Will swallows against the lump in his throat, he thought he was prepared for this, but the raw emotion on Henry's face catches him off guard yet again and he feels his stomach twist. His sister remains motionless on the bed, but the tube in her throat is no longer attached the ventilator, instead thick, green oxygen tubing sprouts up from it, before curving back towards the wall, whilst the humidifier it's attached to lets out a low, constant hissing. All the other tubes and lines remain in place as they were before, a twirling, almost twisted maze of wires and cables that run up to various points. Will frowns when he sees the bag of blood that is hanging amongst the clear fluids on the IV stand.
Henry doesn't look towards him and his tone has a hard inflection to it as he comments, "You came back then."
It isn't a question, but Will answers it anyway. "Yeah, I…I realised that I'd been a bit of an idiot, so thought that I should come back…try and make it right."
"And how do you plan to go about that?" Henry asks him, his eyes flickering across to him for a moment and then back to his wife.
"Figured I would start by just turning up for a change." Will steps towards the chair across from Henry and slides down into it, his cheeks flush pink with a mixture of embarrassment and shame at his previous behaviour. He clears his throat awkwardly. "I didn't mean to stay away so long," he admits after a few seconds of almost unbearable silence from Henry.
"Really?" Henry questions, his tone disbelieving as glances at his brother-in-law again. "Because you seemed pretty clear about your intentions when we last spoke."
Will isn't used to this side of Henry, he's used to him playing peacekeeper between himself and Lizzie, used to the calm, reflective, methodical side of Henry and he isn't quite sure how to handle this, where he looks as though he's almost spoiling for the fight. He gives a nervous cough. "I was," he admits. "I was ashamed of myself for not being here for Lizzie when she needed me, and all I could think about, all I could see was my Mom." His mouth twists in pain. "Lizzie is so like her." He lets out a pained, quiet hiss as he adds, "She's the same age now…as Mom…was." He swallows heavily. "I could give you so many reasons for why I walked out, but really, when it comes down to it, they're all just an excuse to let me run away, to hide."
This time Henry properly looks at him, his brown eyes narrowed in contemplation, his voice is low and so quiet that Will almost misses the next question, "So what changed?"
"Annie, and to some extent Sophie." Will replies, managing a weak smile as he admits, "Sophie gave me one hell of a rollocking for leaving here, but it was Annie telling me it's nice not to be alone when you're sick that really hit home." His smile fades. "But I was being stubborn, I didn't want to prove Sophie right, didn't want to see that knowing look that she gets, so I decided to wait until she had taken Annie to school, I thought that I would still make it in time for the ward round."
Henry glanced meaningfully at the wall clock as he remarked, "Well you're about three hours too late."
Will winced. "I fell asleep," he tells him after a second's pause. "I didn't mean to, but I was sulking on the sofa, ignoring Sophie as she clattered around getting Annie ready for school. I closed my eyes, it was only meant to be for a minute, but then I only woke up forty minutes ago." His expression is pained, his voice dropping an almost harsh whisper. "I'm sorry Henry, I should have been here."
"It would have been helpful," Henry replies, his voice clipped.
Will shifts uncomfortably in his seat, he had expected to be forgiven almost instantly, whenever Lizzie had held him to account for his stupid decisions, it had been Henry who had smoothed over any tensions. But peacekeeper Henry was gone, a thick, dark shadow of stubble covered his jaw, and his feature were set in a glower, that was accentuated by the black shadows under his eyes. "I can't give you an excuse, because I don't have one," he admits after another long silence.
Henry looks back at Elizabeth, his grip tightening on her hand, her fingertips, which peek out from his grasp, turning white from the pressure. "Well," he remarks after a few seconds. "I suppose you came back and that has to count for something."
Will's shoulders sag in relief at the admission. "I'll make it up to you, I won't run again," he tells him, his tone is earnest and most unlike anything he's ever heard come out of his mouth before. He looks at Lizzie again. "They decided to try her on the T-piece then."
"Yes," Henry nods. "If she manages another twenty minutes then they're going to remove the breathing tube."
Will frowns at Lizzie's still form, "But she's still sedated?"
"They wanted to take away her sedation first…they did try." Henry replies. "But she was so confused, she pulled out the tube in her nose, tried to pull out her breathing tube." His face crumples, his next words sound grated. "She pulled away from me, I don't think she even knew I was here."
"It'll be the medication," Will is quick to reassure him. "Sedatives can make people confused, it's common."
"They said it could be delirium."
Will notices that the nurse's pen has paused mid scribble at Henry's words. Only for a few moments but it's a meaningful gap. He clears his throat. "It's common," he repeats.
Henry looks across at him. "Yeah, you said that, so did the anaesthetist, but she also said she couldn't rule out that it might be a brain injury."
"ICU delirium happens fairly frequently," Will attempts to reassure him. "No-one can rule out…" he tails off, unable to say the worst-case scenario. "But delirium is much more likely-"
"Don't," Henry tells him. "I know you're trying to help, but I want certainty and not a likelihood."
Will's shoulders lift in a helpless shrug. "I can't give you that."
"No, nobody seems to be able to."
His eyes flickering to the hissing tubes at Lizzie's mouth, he remarks, "But she's breathing on her own, that's a good sign."
Henry gives a short nod. "It is." When he sees Will's look of confusion his shoulders slump. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I just want certainty; I want my wife back." His voice cracks on the last phrase, he blinks rapidly. "But no-one can give me that."
Will's lips thin, pulling together in a tight line. "No, they can't," he admits."
Henry lets out a deep sigh. "They changed her sedation, they said that on this one they can take the ventilator away and then wake her up afterwards, that maybe she'll be less confused if she isn't ventilated."
"The tubes won't help, they make it difficult to orientate her, it might be easier after they extubate." When Henry doesn't reply, Will adds, "So they decided to give her some more blood."
There's yet another nod from Henry, and he lifts one hand to rub at his tired eyes. "After last night her haemoglobin was a bit low again, they wanted to give her the best chance to wean off the ventilator so they're giving her another unit. They'll check her bloods after this unit and decide if she needs another transfusion then."
"That's sensible." He taps his fingertip against the starched, white bed sheet. "Do you want me to talk to anybody, try and get some more information?"
Henry shakes his head. "I think they've been pretty honest," he admits. "They just can't tell me anymore right now."
"That's the most likely scenario, given the circumstances," Will admits. The clock ticks in the background and he asks, "Where are the kids?"
"At home, hopefully sleeping."
"Good." Will gives a sigh, a prickle of awkwardness creeping up and over his shoulders. "I mean it," he tells Henry. "I'm sorry and I won't run again. You were right, if it was the other way around, Lizzie would never have left my side."
"Given the circumstances, I think she'd allow you a wobble," Henry tells him. "After all, you came back, that's what matters.
Stevie stretches as she wakes, her back arching under her covers, her heels digging into her mattress as she pulls the duvet up to her shoulder's snuggling into her pillow. The room is dark, but the small rays of light that sneak past the edges of her blackout blind make her blink in confusion, she feels as though she has only just blinked from when her head first hit her pillow, as though no time has passed at all and yet weirdly at the same time it's like she's just emerged from the deepest of sleeps. Then the events of the last twenty-four hours come rushing back, slamming into her memory and her stomach gives a sickening lurch as her eyes snap open.
For a moment Stevie just stares her ceiling and then her stomach lurches again, Jareth, she thinks queasily, she isn't sure of the time and she rolls onto her side to look at the digital alarm clock perched on the side of her nightstand. When she sees it's after twelve, she sits bolt upright, pushing the covers off herself. He should be here already. She looks around her room in confusion, as though she expect him to suddenly appear, but obviously that doesn't happen.
Fumbling, she pushes her suddenly freezing cold feet into her slippers and heads for the hall. She's careful to close her door quietly, not wanting to wake Alison or Jason and then shuffles towards the stairs, her slippers scuffing almost silently across the carpet as she moves. As she gets to the bottom of the kitchen stairs she can hear the low buzz of the TV and she fixes a welcoming smile on her face as she reaches the bottom. Jareth is facing away from her, watching a daytime TV chat show and so she clears her throat softly, "Hi there, stranger," she remarks as he glances over his shoulder at her words.
Jareth gets to his feet, rounding the sofa as Stevie leans against the kitchen island. "I didn't expect you to wake up so soon."
Stevie feels groggy and almost wobbly on her feet, so she stays plastered to the spot, "I kind of jumped out of bed when I saw the time," she tells him. "When did you get here?"
"About two hours ago."
He is a few steps away from her, and yet he doesn't wrap her up in the hug she so desperately craves, instead he stops, standing in front of her, his hands digging into his pockets. Stevie's smile feels almost glued onto her face, her cheekbones aching at the effort. "You must be just as tired as I am," she remarks. "You should have come up."
"I didn't want to disturb you."
"You couldn't have done that." When he simply gives a small shrug in lieu of reply, Stevie's smile fades and her gaze skitters away nervously across the worktops. The sight of the large box of sandwiches and cakes brings a genuine smile to her face and she looks back at Jareth, beaming at him as she remarks, "Oh that was so thoughtful of you. I don't think we've got any decent, easy to grab food in the house, so this is perfect."
His gaze follows hers and his mouth gives a downward twitch as he tells her, "Blake bought them, dropped them off when he dropped off me."
"Oh…" Stevie shuffles awkwardly and then recovering herself, adds quickly, "It is his job to be super-organised."
"He's clearly good at it, able to anticipate everything you might need," there is a tinge of resentment in his voice.
Stevie's heart sinks, not even five minutes in and they're already niggling at each other, she tries to salvage the situation, fixing the smile back onto her face and saying, "Maybe, but then he didn't fly half-way across the country for me."
Jareth's tight shoulders relax ever so slightly and then he sighs, and they slump altogether, he rubs at his forehead. "Stevie, I'm sorry. I'm tired and I want to help, but I don't even know where to start."
"You're here, that's a start."
He takes a small step closer to her. "How's your Mom? Blake said she wasn't well last night."
"She wasn't, but she's stable now and my Dad said he'd call if anything changed-" she cuts off abruptly with a frown. She hasn't heard her phone at all whilst she was sleeping. "Did you text or call when you landed?" she asks suddenly.
"Of course I did, but-" He lets out a small grumble of annoyance when Stevie suddenly lurches away and scrambles through the pockets of her dressing gown, looking for her phone.
"I must have left my phone on silent. Oh God," she runs her hand through her hair, tugging slightly at the strands. She has multiple missed calls and texts, and she scrolls through them anxiously, only to see that most of them are from her Aunt Maureen and she relaxes but only ever so slightly. "Nothing from my Dad, so she must be doing ok. My Aunt has called twelve times though." She bites down on her bottom lip. "I should call her back."
Jareth steps forward and tugs slightly at her hand. "Do it later, come and get a bit more sleep."
She pulls her hand free from his, shaking her head. "I'll call her first, it might be important." She can hear his sigh, but she blocks it out, as she taps Maureen's number on her screen to return the call, turning away from Jareth as she does so.
It rings twice before her Aunt answers, and Stevie isn't sure if she sounds more irritated than usual as she remarks, "Finally someone answer their phone."
"I'm sorry, I was asleep," Stevie tells her.
"Hmmm, yes if the news is to be believed then you all had a rather stressful night."
"The news…" Stevie echoes. "What are they saying?"
Maureen sighs and there's a note of sympathy in her voice as she says, "They've said how ill she was last night, they know you had to go back to the hospital. We weren't sure if it was true and I've been trying to get hold of your Dad, but he isn't picking up."
"He's still at the hospital, he probably hasn't been checking his phone, the ICU isn't keen on them."
"Hmmm, well it doesn't matter I suppose, I'm on the bus, I should be with you in about an hour, but don't worry, I'll make my own way from the bus station."
"Wait, what?"
Maureen ignores the question and continues to talk as though Stevie hasn't interjected. "Janice and Shane are on standby and they can be here in a few hours if they're needed, but we thought it was best for me to come first and find out exactly what's happening, given the fact that otherwise we seem to be getting updates only from the media." There's a tone of censure in her voice.
"It's just been really busy," Stevie offers weakly. "Dad's been really distracted."
"Of course he has, so I can help keep you all fed and watered. I'll deal with anything practical and you can all just focus on your Mom." Despite her previous irritation, she does sound compassionate this time, as much as Maureen ever can anyway.
Stevie feels as though she really doesn't have much of an argument to make, she just hopes that this visit is less stressful than their last few visits and she also wonders how she's going to tell her Dad about this. But still it would be nice not to have to think about anything other than her Mom, because her head feels like it's about to explode when she starts to think about anything else they might need over the next few days. "I'll get the spare room sorted," she finally replies.
"Leave it," Maureen tells her briskly, "I can do that." There's a rustling and she adds, "I better go, the bus isn't the best place for you to give me an update. I'll see you all soon."
The call disconnects before Stevie has the chance to say goodbye. She presses her phone back into her pocket and turns back to speak to Jareth, tugging her bottom lip nervously between her teeth when she sees that Jareth has left the kitchen and not for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, she feels like she's managed to completely mis-manage this situation. Her shoulders slump when she realises that they haven't even hugged yet and if anything she feels more alone than ever.
Henry paces the family room; his hands feel clammy and his stomach is tied up in one big knot. "I should have stayed in with her," he mutters to Will.
"They don't let family members stay in the room when they're extubating," Will reminds him. "So, you had to wait outside."
"I should have just told them I was staying." Henry's hands are shaking, and he pushes them into the front pocket of his jeans to try and stop them.
"Not how it works. Henry, we went through this, if they need to put the airway back in it could end up being an emergency, you don't want to see that."
"Doesn't matter what I want, not right now."
Will leans back in his seat. "Have you slept at all since I left here this morning?"
"I've had ten minutes here or there." Henry pauses on his path back and forth across the room, his cheeks suck in for a second, his face is now hollow, gaunt looking in that moment as he admits painfully, "When I close my eyes all I see is what happened last night or earlier this morning, so I can't sleep, not properly." He gives his head a shake. "I'll sleep when she's awake, when she's stable." He looks towards the door. "I should go back in."
"No, you should wait for them to come and get you." Will forces himself to stop the nervous shaking of his own foot, he needs to stay calm so that he can keep Henry calm. "Look, even if the extubatation goes completely to plan, it's still not a nice thing for a family member to watch. You've been through enough Henry."
He shakes his head again. "It's not about me. She shouldn't be alone."
"She's still sedated, and she's surrounded by specialists," Will reminds him.
Henry ignores Will's words and glancing around the pale magnolia painted room, remarks, "I hate this room, I hate waiting here."
"I know, but the hospital is pretty busy now and you heard security, they can't guarantee there aren't people waiting to try and get a picture of you." He drags his gaze up his brother-law's unkempt form, he's changed into his clean change of clothes, but his shirt is crumpled, the collar on one side has folded under itself. "Believe me you don't want that just now. It will drag down your rating on TMI's list for one thing," he tries to joke weakly.
Henry shoots him a sharp glare. "Is she going to be aware of what's happening?" he asks after a minute.
"Maybe, they've started to titrate her sedation, so she might have some awareness, but she won't know that you're not there if that's what you're worried about."
"I feel like I should be grateful," Henry tells him. "She's alive, she's going to wake up, but all I can think about it how she was when they took the sedation away the last time. What if that happens again?"
"It might," Will admits. "But delirium resolves, with time."
"And if it isn't delirium, what then?"
"Then we figure it out as we go."
Henry turns to look out the window, he just wants certainty, and he wants to get back to Elizabeth. His heart beats out a nervous tattoo, she'll be breathing on her own, he tells himself and it's a step forward. For once he'll be able to call the kids with good news and despite the worry that twists in his stomach, he lets himself cling onto that sliver of hope.
