Chapter 10 - Heat of the Night
July
Cracking his neck, Robert walked briskly down the hallways towards Jordan's room. He whistled to himself slightly, causing a few nurses to turn and glance at him curiously. He tried to hide his pleased grin as he turned and poked his head into the young girls room. Jordan was looking out of the window, the hot summer sun reflecting off of her face. "Hey Rocky," Robert called with a whistle as he leaned against the doorway. Through the haze before her eyes, Jordan turned her head and focused on his face.
"Hey," her voice came out thick and groggy, and Robert's eyes flashed with concern instantly. "You look happy," Jordan continued as Robert moved closer.
"That's because I am," he replied, trying to hide his worry.
"I didn't know you were capable of emotions," Jordan cleared her throat, although it did little to make her voice any less hoarse. "What, did you get laid or something?" she asked, and Romano raised one eyebrow.
"I see even in your exhausted state you still find time to surprise me with your frankness. And I fired somebody, that's why I'm so happy," he replied.
"So you didn't get laid?"
"No."
"Poor baby."
"Shut up," Robert muttered distractedly, and Jordan smirked to herself. As his tone of voice finally sunk in, she turned her head and looked at him again. Her eyes scanned his face as he looked over her body, feeling her forehead and checking her pulse. "Have you been feeling alright?" he asked her, and she shrugged.
"I think the chemo has been hitting in hard," she sighed, trying to ignore the flame in Robert's eyes.
"I don't think it's the chemo," Robert said quietly, and Jordan looked away.
"Don't say that."
"We need to get you into intensive care."
"Robert - "
"You're fevers spiking and it looks like you've developed an infection - "
"Please don't bring me - "
"And you're malnourished. You could go into a coma or die," Robert said, a bit more strongly than he meant to. Jordan's face grew a few shades paler, and her voice silenced. Robert averted his eyes, and busied himself with paging the nurses and Dr. Ross. Glancing back over at her, he saw her eyes were half closed again, as they had been when he entered the room. He began to get her ready to move to intensive care in a few moments. "How long have you felt sick for?" he asked her, and she rolled her eyes up towards him.
"Over a week," she said weakly, looking away again.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked her, but she didn't respond. "Jordan?" he asked, but still the silence held. His eyes flickered and he tried to beat down the impatience that came naturally inside him, but the stress was making it hard. "You could die from this. I mean, god knows why Dr. Ross didn't pick up on this, but you should've said something," he snapped, and Jordan closed her eyes. "You can't go on not telling anybody these things and expect to live very long - "
"I don't expect to live very long anyway," Jordan whispered, but Robert didn't hear her.
" - or at least stay conscious and not in a coma. This is very dangerous - "
"Robert I'm scared," her shaky voice finally brought his rant to a halt, and he turned bewildered eyes to her. She was looking away from him, and before he could respond a group of nurses came in and began to move Jordan. He was about to protest and ask them to wait when Dr. Ross came in, and suddenly he felt himself pushing his way out of the door and into the hallway.
Without looking back, he turned and walked towards the elevator. He heard them wheeling Jordan into the hallway behind him, and he could feel her eyes on his back. A few steps before the elevator he faltered, and swung into a hallway. His eyes met hers as she was wheeled past, and she could see the fear reflected in his own eyes.
And then the hallway was silent. Robert heard his heart beating in his ears, and he shook his head. He couldn't remember the last time that he had faltered like that at a patient's words, and the thought disturbed him. Turning, he started to walk towards his office. The sound of fireworks on a television made him pause and remember that it was Independence Day - he would be off in less than an hour. With a sigh he turned and made his way towards intensive care.
"Hey Bambi, you came to visit me," Jordan said weakly as Robert entered the room.
"Yeah well, I didn't want you to be afraid of the fireworks," he tried to keep his voice gruff as usual. "What's with the Bambi?"
"Well you had a wonderful 'deer-in-headlights' expression before when I said how I was frightened."
"Oh."
"You're talkative," Jordan said after a few long moments of silence, and Robert shrugged.
"You're not supposed to be talking. You're lucky you don't have a tube down your throat," he pointed out.
"Yet," Jordan finished his sentence grimly, and Robert didn't respond. "So you just talk more than I do and I'll be fine," she said. "You know," she started before Robert could respond, "I've never really had a father."
"Where in the hell did that come from?" Robert blinked, and Jordan shrugged.
"My mind - a scary place, I know. But really, my dad died before I was born and my stepfather - well, he's an asshole," Jordan grimaced.
"Most fathers are," Robert murmured, and Jordan glanced over at him. He was looking at his hands, but with a slight shake of his head he looked back up at her. "So what does your stepfather do for a living?" Robert asked, causing Jordan to weakly raise an eyebrow at the awkward recovery.
"He owns a cruise line."
"Oh really? Which ship did he leave his personality on?"
"Same one he left his compassion on," Jordan replied, trying not to cough. Robert noticed her voice getting weaker, and the varying sounds coming from the machines were startling him slightly.
"You really dislike him, don't you?" he asked, and she chuckled.
"And you don't? Come on Robert, he's a dipshit."
"Watch your language."
"You'd make a good father," she said wryly, and Robert laughed shortly.
"Yeah, to a brick wall maybe, not to a human being. You know me, I'm a bastard," he replied. Jordan thought she could hear a note of sorrow in his voice, and she sighed.
"You'd be a better father than both of mine," she whispered, peering out at him through half closed eyelids.
"I wouldn't want to be your father."
"Why not?"
"I wouldn't want to put you through that."
"If I didn't think you were joking, I'd think you had extremely low self esteem."
"I wasn't joking."
"Hmm. I couldn't tell."
"Obviously," Robert said shortly, and Jordan closed her eyes. "You tired?" he asked her as he cleared his throat, and she nodded. "Alright," he said, patting her knee, "I'll leave you to sleep. Happy Independence Day," he said, and Jordan didn't respond. "Jordan?" he asked, but she didn't open her eyes. Instinctively checking her vital signs, he shook her shoulders gently. "Jordan," he said again, before sitting down with a sigh.
Placing his head in his hands, he rubbed his temples gently. "Goddamn," he muttered to himself, closing his eyes. Listening to her heartbeat on the machines, he felt the hours pass like minutes. As the door behind him opened, he raised his head and opened his eyes - he wasn't sure if he had been sleeping for the past few hours or not.
"Dr. Romano," Doug said in surprise, and Robert blinked the sleepiness out of his eyes.
"Dr. Ross," he cleared his throat, standing up.
"What are you doing in here?" Doug asked him, and Robert glanced at Jordan.
"I was just spending 4th of July with a patient," he said gruffly.
"Oh - er, alright. I wanted to speak to her, do you think she'll be waking up anytime soon?"
"Nope."
"Huh?" Doug asked, surprised at his answer. "What do you mean?" he asked, and Robert gazed evenly into the other doctor's eyes.
"Dr. Ross, had you been down here earlier you would've known this. Then again, had you done your job to begin with she wouldn't be in this situation, would she?" Robert snapped, and Doug swallowed. "Anyway, it's too late now."
"I'm afraid I don't understand," Doug said, and Robert snorted.
"Of course you don't," Robert growled. With a sigh, he turned and glanced at Jordan again before giving the news to Doug.
"She's in a coma."
July
Cracking his neck, Robert walked briskly down the hallways towards Jordan's room. He whistled to himself slightly, causing a few nurses to turn and glance at him curiously. He tried to hide his pleased grin as he turned and poked his head into the young girls room. Jordan was looking out of the window, the hot summer sun reflecting off of her face. "Hey Rocky," Robert called with a whistle as he leaned against the doorway. Through the haze before her eyes, Jordan turned her head and focused on his face.
"Hey," her voice came out thick and groggy, and Robert's eyes flashed with concern instantly. "You look happy," Jordan continued as Robert moved closer.
"That's because I am," he replied, trying to hide his worry.
"I didn't know you were capable of emotions," Jordan cleared her throat, although it did little to make her voice any less hoarse. "What, did you get laid or something?" she asked, and Romano raised one eyebrow.
"I see even in your exhausted state you still find time to surprise me with your frankness. And I fired somebody, that's why I'm so happy," he replied.
"So you didn't get laid?"
"No."
"Poor baby."
"Shut up," Robert muttered distractedly, and Jordan smirked to herself. As his tone of voice finally sunk in, she turned her head and looked at him again. Her eyes scanned his face as he looked over her body, feeling her forehead and checking her pulse. "Have you been feeling alright?" he asked her, and she shrugged.
"I think the chemo has been hitting in hard," she sighed, trying to ignore the flame in Robert's eyes.
"I don't think it's the chemo," Robert said quietly, and Jordan looked away.
"Don't say that."
"We need to get you into intensive care."
"Robert - "
"You're fevers spiking and it looks like you've developed an infection - "
"Please don't bring me - "
"And you're malnourished. You could go into a coma or die," Robert said, a bit more strongly than he meant to. Jordan's face grew a few shades paler, and her voice silenced. Robert averted his eyes, and busied himself with paging the nurses and Dr. Ross. Glancing back over at her, he saw her eyes were half closed again, as they had been when he entered the room. He began to get her ready to move to intensive care in a few moments. "How long have you felt sick for?" he asked her, and she rolled her eyes up towards him.
"Over a week," she said weakly, looking away again.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked her, but she didn't respond. "Jordan?" he asked, but still the silence held. His eyes flickered and he tried to beat down the impatience that came naturally inside him, but the stress was making it hard. "You could die from this. I mean, god knows why Dr. Ross didn't pick up on this, but you should've said something," he snapped, and Jordan closed her eyes. "You can't go on not telling anybody these things and expect to live very long - "
"I don't expect to live very long anyway," Jordan whispered, but Robert didn't hear her.
" - or at least stay conscious and not in a coma. This is very dangerous - "
"Robert I'm scared," her shaky voice finally brought his rant to a halt, and he turned bewildered eyes to her. She was looking away from him, and before he could respond a group of nurses came in and began to move Jordan. He was about to protest and ask them to wait when Dr. Ross came in, and suddenly he felt himself pushing his way out of the door and into the hallway.
Without looking back, he turned and walked towards the elevator. He heard them wheeling Jordan into the hallway behind him, and he could feel her eyes on his back. A few steps before the elevator he faltered, and swung into a hallway. His eyes met hers as she was wheeled past, and she could see the fear reflected in his own eyes.
And then the hallway was silent. Robert heard his heart beating in his ears, and he shook his head. He couldn't remember the last time that he had faltered like that at a patient's words, and the thought disturbed him. Turning, he started to walk towards his office. The sound of fireworks on a television made him pause and remember that it was Independence Day - he would be off in less than an hour. With a sigh he turned and made his way towards intensive care.
"Hey Bambi, you came to visit me," Jordan said weakly as Robert entered the room.
"Yeah well, I didn't want you to be afraid of the fireworks," he tried to keep his voice gruff as usual. "What's with the Bambi?"
"Well you had a wonderful 'deer-in-headlights' expression before when I said how I was frightened."
"Oh."
"You're talkative," Jordan said after a few long moments of silence, and Robert shrugged.
"You're not supposed to be talking. You're lucky you don't have a tube down your throat," he pointed out.
"Yet," Jordan finished his sentence grimly, and Robert didn't respond. "So you just talk more than I do and I'll be fine," she said. "You know," she started before Robert could respond, "I've never really had a father."
"Where in the hell did that come from?" Robert blinked, and Jordan shrugged.
"My mind - a scary place, I know. But really, my dad died before I was born and my stepfather - well, he's an asshole," Jordan grimaced.
"Most fathers are," Robert murmured, and Jordan glanced over at him. He was looking at his hands, but with a slight shake of his head he looked back up at her. "So what does your stepfather do for a living?" Robert asked, causing Jordan to weakly raise an eyebrow at the awkward recovery.
"He owns a cruise line."
"Oh really? Which ship did he leave his personality on?"
"Same one he left his compassion on," Jordan replied, trying not to cough. Robert noticed her voice getting weaker, and the varying sounds coming from the machines were startling him slightly.
"You really dislike him, don't you?" he asked, and she chuckled.
"And you don't? Come on Robert, he's a dipshit."
"Watch your language."
"You'd make a good father," she said wryly, and Robert laughed shortly.
"Yeah, to a brick wall maybe, not to a human being. You know me, I'm a bastard," he replied. Jordan thought she could hear a note of sorrow in his voice, and she sighed.
"You'd be a better father than both of mine," she whispered, peering out at him through half closed eyelids.
"I wouldn't want to be your father."
"Why not?"
"I wouldn't want to put you through that."
"If I didn't think you were joking, I'd think you had extremely low self esteem."
"I wasn't joking."
"Hmm. I couldn't tell."
"Obviously," Robert said shortly, and Jordan closed her eyes. "You tired?" he asked her as he cleared his throat, and she nodded. "Alright," he said, patting her knee, "I'll leave you to sleep. Happy Independence Day," he said, and Jordan didn't respond. "Jordan?" he asked, but she didn't open her eyes. Instinctively checking her vital signs, he shook her shoulders gently. "Jordan," he said again, before sitting down with a sigh.
Placing his head in his hands, he rubbed his temples gently. "Goddamn," he muttered to himself, closing his eyes. Listening to her heartbeat on the machines, he felt the hours pass like minutes. As the door behind him opened, he raised his head and opened his eyes - he wasn't sure if he had been sleeping for the past few hours or not.
"Dr. Romano," Doug said in surprise, and Robert blinked the sleepiness out of his eyes.
"Dr. Ross," he cleared his throat, standing up.
"What are you doing in here?" Doug asked him, and Robert glanced at Jordan.
"I was just spending 4th of July with a patient," he said gruffly.
"Oh - er, alright. I wanted to speak to her, do you think she'll be waking up anytime soon?"
"Nope."
"Huh?" Doug asked, surprised at his answer. "What do you mean?" he asked, and Robert gazed evenly into the other doctor's eyes.
"Dr. Ross, had you been down here earlier you would've known this. Then again, had you done your job to begin with she wouldn't be in this situation, would she?" Robert snapped, and Doug swallowed. "Anyway, it's too late now."
"I'm afraid I don't understand," Doug said, and Robert snorted.
"Of course you don't," Robert growled. With a sigh, he turned and glanced at Jordan again before giving the news to Doug.
"She's in a coma."