A/N: Sorry for the delay in uploading this chapter, Fanfic went off
line for a few days, and then the biggest snow storm ever hit the east
coast, which stranded me away from my computer!! (I knew I should have
asked for a laptop for Xmas) Anyway, Thank you all for your patience
and understanding, Hope you enjoy!!
Jon was downright exhausted as today turned into tomorrow. He sat silent in the surgical waiting room. Just Feeny remained with him this late hour. The Matthews departed a few hours ago, much to Cory's dismay. Alan and Amy had to almost drag him out of the hospital. He put up quite a fight, but unfortunately his parents prevailed. It was too much for him to remain; after all, he was just a kid. Only after Amy agreed to bring him straight back first thing in the morning, and Feeny promised to excuse him from classes, did the curly headed boy agree to go. It was just as well; the probability of seeing Shawn tonight was slim to none.
The nurses were very sympathetic to George and Jon throughout their ordeal. They visited and consoled the frightened men almost hourly as the long and rocky surgery continued. George was like Gibraltar the entire day. He arranged for a substitute teacher to take over for Jon the rest of the week, so he could concentrate on Shawn. He toggled between social services and the police on Jon's behalf. He constantly ran to fetch food and drinks for himself and Jon. He made two trips to Jon's apartment to bring him comfortable clothes and paperwork. But most importantly he was there with a consoling word and a strong shoulder to lean on when needed. Jonathan gained a new found respect for the man, not only as his boss, but also as a treasured friend.
Jon was just about to nod off for the hundredth time when a nurse summoned him and George to follow her into the post-op consultation area. They jumped from their seats and were on her heels in a flash. They anxiously waited on pins and needles for Doctor Fleisher to arrive. Jon turned to George and managed a smile, "Post-op this is good, it means Shawn came through the operation." He rubbed his cold hands together and shook out his stiff neck. George returned the grin, with a tired shrug.
Doctor Fleisher entered the area, still dressed in his surgical scrubs. A hint of his blonde hair peeked out from under his cap. Smiling, he shook Jon's hand vigorously. Taking a seat himself, he removed his shoe coverings as he spoke. The Doctor was pleased with the surgery and confident that Shawn would have no permanent damage or disfiguration from the injury. Recovery however was another story. Although Shawn survived the operation, he was not out of the woods. He explained that Shawn was already showing signs of a serious infection, and starting to run a high fever.
Doctor Fleisher opted to move Shawn directly to the ICU from the OR, but he wouldn't be able to have any visitors until normal visiting hours tomorrow. Jon's heart broke as he heard the news. He just wanted to see the boy, whisper a few words into his ear, and hold his hand. George sensed the disappointment and gently patted Jon on the shoulder.
Doctor Fleisher tried to ease Jon's mind by telling him that even if he were to see Shawn, the boy wouldn't be aware of him anyway. The surgeon thought it best to keep Shawn in a drug induced coma for another twenty four to thirty six hours, to give his body an opportunity to heal. Shawn was completely dependant on artificial ventilation, which is much too traumatic and painful for a conscious person. The Doctor informed Jon and George that they would run a barrage of tests and get Shawn on the best course of medication as soon as possible, and that every effort would be made to ensure his survival.
The Doctor also said he was cooperating with the police fully, and would supply them with a full report of Shawn's injuries first thing tomorrow. Doctor Fleisher okayed a department investigator to take extensive photographs of Shawn's bruises for evidence, as soon as the boy was healthy enough to be accessible. Jon winced at the thought. He didn't like the idea, but had no choice but to comply. The Doctor was both informative and courteous. He stayed and answered every question posed to him, except one. "Doc, is he going to make it?" Jon nervously asked again.
"I'm sorry Mr. Turner, it's still too soon to tell, Shawn's condition is critical, but stable. We're doing everything we can. I can tell you this though, what really makes me angry is that if this boy had gotten proper medical attention immediately, he would probably have been discharged by now. How this boy managed to bring himself to school in his condition, is beyond me. Shawn is young and strong-minded, but he did sustain quite a savage beating. Whoever is responsible for doing this to him should be punished to the full extent of the law. " The Doctor excused himself and returned to Shawn. Jon and George remained alone in the waiting area. Both were stewing on the Doctors parting words.
George glanced at his watch and decided it was time to call it a night. He unfortunately did have to be in school tomorrow. "Jon, I have to go now, I have an eight a.m. meeting with Guidance tomorrow, but as soon as I get things on track and update the vice principal on the schedule, I'll be back here as fast as I can." George stood and dawned his coat. "George, please don't go out of your way, you've helped so much already, I don't know what I would have done without you today, and I don't know how I'll ever repay you.." Jon yawned and rubbed his tired eyes.
"Think nothing of it Mr. Turner, you and Shawn are both very special to me, and I hold you in higher regard than just a fellow teacher and student. Please call me at home if anything else happens tonight, and I'll see you tomorrow." The two exchanged handshakes and a bit of an embrace before Feeny walked out of the waiting room, leaving Jon lonesome among the empty chairs. He settled himself in on a small sofa and aimlessly glared at the television set overhead.
His brain swam with uncertainty and fear; he slowly gave way to the exhaustion. He slept restlessly, cramped up on the small, uncomfortable sofa. Waking frequently he was aggravated at how slowly time passed. Every glance at his watch brought disappointment. Jon was slowly starting to drive himself crazy. He tried to read, sleep, pace, watch TV, nothing would ease his troubled mind. Finally as the sun began to peek through the blinds, a merciful nurse finally took pity on him. "Mr. Turner, visiting hours don't start until nine, but I talked to the Doctor and he'll allow you access, if you promise to be very quiet and respect the other patients." Jon nodded aggressively and briskly gathered his things.
Turner melted with emotion as the nurse led him into intensive care; the ward was so silent the hum of moving time could be heard in the air. She showed Jon past the nurses' station and down a quiet corridor, "Shawn is struggling terribly against the respirator, we had to utilize very strong narcotics to sedate him enough to let the machine take control, he's a very stubborn boy." The young nurse, smiled as she opened the drape to Shawn's cubicle. Jon's knees buckled at the sight. Shawn looked so small and frail in the raised hospital bed. Tubes and lines connected to large intimidating machines were all about him. Jon's stomach grew queasy as his ears listened to the beeps and bells and pumps and buzzers of all the equipment sustaining Shawn's fragile body.
Jon froze in the doorway, unable to take a step closer; his eyes nervously scanned the room as he unconsciously held his breath. Shawn looked as though plastic tubing and tape were literally holding him together. He lay so still it sent chills up Jonathan's spine. "You can come closer, it's a bit shocking I know, but you will get used to it." A single tear hugged Jon's cheek; he sniffled and moved in for a closer look. "What's your name?" he asked, wiping his eyes. "I'm Beverly, you can call me Bev. I'm the nurse assigned to Shawn for the next thirty six hours." She smiled as she began to lower Shawn's bed so Jon could settle beside him. He awkwardly pulled up a chair and sat down, his eyes level with the rails on the side of the bed.
"As long as your sitting here, I think we can lower this, you won't let him fall, will you." Beverly swung the rail down as Jon leaned over, shaking his head vehemently. "Can he hear me, if I talk to him?" The pretty redhead smiled as she gently lifted Shawn's arm to take his blood pressure and pulse. "It's hard to say, he's under pretty deep, but you never know, we encourage as much interaction with the patient as possible. It's important to talk to them, touch them, and comfort them. Just the sound of a familiar voice can be extremely soothing, don't be afraid to touch him, take his hand."
Jon reached out his own shaking hand and softly held Shawn's, no reaction what so ever was a bit hard to handle. Jon held his breath as his eyes scanned Shawn top to bottom. The boy's face was as pale as driven snow, his sweat soaked bangs looked almost black as they stuck to his forehead. His chest was packed in gauze and bandages, the edges, and Shawn's skin around them, stained bright yellow. "What's this?" Jon questioned, gently running his finger over the filmy residue. "It's Duraprep, it's used to sterilize the area for surgery, and it will fade in a few days, very normal." Beverly smiled as she jotted notations on Shawn's chart. Jon closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.
Beverly softly raised Shaw's eyelids and shone a penlight into each eye a few times. Jonathan peered closely, alarmed at what he saw. Shawn's pupils were oddly large and the whites of both eyes blood red, "OH GOD!! What's wrong with him?" Jon whispered, glancing at Beverly in confusion. "It's okay, the pupils are enlarged from the medication, and the broken blood vessels were caused by the asphyxiation, he was strangled hard enough to burst microscopic blood vessels running through his eyes, it's okay, it will heal, his vision if fine, I'm sure." Beverly sympathetically placed a hand on Jonathan's shoulder as he took a few quivering breaths, almost loosing his composure.
Beverly tilted Shawn's head slightly sending the respirator buzzing loudly. Jon nearly jumped out of his skin as he leapt from the chair, "NOO, OH MY GOD!!" Beverly waived her hands, as Jonathan grasped his chest, she leaned over and reset the panel, "Relax!! Just relax Jon, it's a vent alarm, any movement or motion will set it off, get used to it because Shawn's only been down here a few hours and already he's set it off a dozen times." Beverly giggled as she took Shawn's temperature, placing a thermometer gently into his ear. "Your young friend likes to bite on that tube, as soon as he's conscious, I'm going to yell at him!!" Jon managed to crack an awkward smile as he plopped back into the chair, his heart thumping a mile a minute.
Beverly finished scribbling onto the chart and returned it to the plastic shelf at the foot of the bed. "His fever is on the rise, I'm going to have to page the Doctor again." Beverly glanced at her watch, starting to crack an icepack at the mini sink in the corner. "This should keep him cool until we can get some meds into him." Beverly placed the pack firmly onto Shawn's forehead as she brushed his cheek with the back of her hand. "I'll be back soon, please make yourself comfortable, I'll bring you some juices in a few minutes. What kind do you want orange, apple or pineapple??" Jon grinned tiredly, "Orange, thank you that sounds great." He leaned onto the bed and took Shawn's hand again. Beverly drew the curtain and stepped out, "The call button is on the right, push it if you need me." She hurried away, leaving Jonathan alone with his ailing charge.
Jonnie sighed heavily as his eyes soaked up the tragic scene. He grabbed a few tissues from the table and leaned in wiping the beads of sweat from Shawn's face and neck. "What can I do kiddo?...How can I make this all go away?..." Jon leaned against the rail, holding the icepack firmly on Shawn's head with one hand and stroking his limp arm with the other. He rested his head on the bed as his eyes watched the mechanical rise and fall of Shawn's chest. It was almost robotic as the machine thrust oxygen into Shawn's unresponsive lungs. Jon lovingly brushed the hair from Shawn's eyes, "Okay, little buddy!! You better listen up Shawnie, you can't leave me you hear!! I need you kid!! I'm no good anymore without you, so you got to fight this!!"
Turner squeezed Shawn's hand with determination. Pursing his lips he vowed to stay by Shawn's side and guide him home, "You're stuck with me, buddy boy!! I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not going to shut up until you wake up and yell at me." I might even lecture on and on about the classics, Shakespeare, Beowulf, The Iliad, The Odyssey, the list is endless!! You know me Hunter; I can talk till the cows come home!! You get better fast and..maybe I cut you a break!!" Just then Jon felt a faint movement under his hand, looking hard into Shawn's face, he smiled. Hoping it wasn't his imagination.
Jon was downright exhausted as today turned into tomorrow. He sat silent in the surgical waiting room. Just Feeny remained with him this late hour. The Matthews departed a few hours ago, much to Cory's dismay. Alan and Amy had to almost drag him out of the hospital. He put up quite a fight, but unfortunately his parents prevailed. It was too much for him to remain; after all, he was just a kid. Only after Amy agreed to bring him straight back first thing in the morning, and Feeny promised to excuse him from classes, did the curly headed boy agree to go. It was just as well; the probability of seeing Shawn tonight was slim to none.
The nurses were very sympathetic to George and Jon throughout their ordeal. They visited and consoled the frightened men almost hourly as the long and rocky surgery continued. George was like Gibraltar the entire day. He arranged for a substitute teacher to take over for Jon the rest of the week, so he could concentrate on Shawn. He toggled between social services and the police on Jon's behalf. He constantly ran to fetch food and drinks for himself and Jon. He made two trips to Jon's apartment to bring him comfortable clothes and paperwork. But most importantly he was there with a consoling word and a strong shoulder to lean on when needed. Jonathan gained a new found respect for the man, not only as his boss, but also as a treasured friend.
Jon was just about to nod off for the hundredth time when a nurse summoned him and George to follow her into the post-op consultation area. They jumped from their seats and were on her heels in a flash. They anxiously waited on pins and needles for Doctor Fleisher to arrive. Jon turned to George and managed a smile, "Post-op this is good, it means Shawn came through the operation." He rubbed his cold hands together and shook out his stiff neck. George returned the grin, with a tired shrug.
Doctor Fleisher entered the area, still dressed in his surgical scrubs. A hint of his blonde hair peeked out from under his cap. Smiling, he shook Jon's hand vigorously. Taking a seat himself, he removed his shoe coverings as he spoke. The Doctor was pleased with the surgery and confident that Shawn would have no permanent damage or disfiguration from the injury. Recovery however was another story. Although Shawn survived the operation, he was not out of the woods. He explained that Shawn was already showing signs of a serious infection, and starting to run a high fever.
Doctor Fleisher opted to move Shawn directly to the ICU from the OR, but he wouldn't be able to have any visitors until normal visiting hours tomorrow. Jon's heart broke as he heard the news. He just wanted to see the boy, whisper a few words into his ear, and hold his hand. George sensed the disappointment and gently patted Jon on the shoulder.
Doctor Fleisher tried to ease Jon's mind by telling him that even if he were to see Shawn, the boy wouldn't be aware of him anyway. The surgeon thought it best to keep Shawn in a drug induced coma for another twenty four to thirty six hours, to give his body an opportunity to heal. Shawn was completely dependant on artificial ventilation, which is much too traumatic and painful for a conscious person. The Doctor informed Jon and George that they would run a barrage of tests and get Shawn on the best course of medication as soon as possible, and that every effort would be made to ensure his survival.
The Doctor also said he was cooperating with the police fully, and would supply them with a full report of Shawn's injuries first thing tomorrow. Doctor Fleisher okayed a department investigator to take extensive photographs of Shawn's bruises for evidence, as soon as the boy was healthy enough to be accessible. Jon winced at the thought. He didn't like the idea, but had no choice but to comply. The Doctor was both informative and courteous. He stayed and answered every question posed to him, except one. "Doc, is he going to make it?" Jon nervously asked again.
"I'm sorry Mr. Turner, it's still too soon to tell, Shawn's condition is critical, but stable. We're doing everything we can. I can tell you this though, what really makes me angry is that if this boy had gotten proper medical attention immediately, he would probably have been discharged by now. How this boy managed to bring himself to school in his condition, is beyond me. Shawn is young and strong-minded, but he did sustain quite a savage beating. Whoever is responsible for doing this to him should be punished to the full extent of the law. " The Doctor excused himself and returned to Shawn. Jon and George remained alone in the waiting area. Both were stewing on the Doctors parting words.
George glanced at his watch and decided it was time to call it a night. He unfortunately did have to be in school tomorrow. "Jon, I have to go now, I have an eight a.m. meeting with Guidance tomorrow, but as soon as I get things on track and update the vice principal on the schedule, I'll be back here as fast as I can." George stood and dawned his coat. "George, please don't go out of your way, you've helped so much already, I don't know what I would have done without you today, and I don't know how I'll ever repay you.." Jon yawned and rubbed his tired eyes.
"Think nothing of it Mr. Turner, you and Shawn are both very special to me, and I hold you in higher regard than just a fellow teacher and student. Please call me at home if anything else happens tonight, and I'll see you tomorrow." The two exchanged handshakes and a bit of an embrace before Feeny walked out of the waiting room, leaving Jon lonesome among the empty chairs. He settled himself in on a small sofa and aimlessly glared at the television set overhead.
His brain swam with uncertainty and fear; he slowly gave way to the exhaustion. He slept restlessly, cramped up on the small, uncomfortable sofa. Waking frequently he was aggravated at how slowly time passed. Every glance at his watch brought disappointment. Jon was slowly starting to drive himself crazy. He tried to read, sleep, pace, watch TV, nothing would ease his troubled mind. Finally as the sun began to peek through the blinds, a merciful nurse finally took pity on him. "Mr. Turner, visiting hours don't start until nine, but I talked to the Doctor and he'll allow you access, if you promise to be very quiet and respect the other patients." Jon nodded aggressively and briskly gathered his things.
Turner melted with emotion as the nurse led him into intensive care; the ward was so silent the hum of moving time could be heard in the air. She showed Jon past the nurses' station and down a quiet corridor, "Shawn is struggling terribly against the respirator, we had to utilize very strong narcotics to sedate him enough to let the machine take control, he's a very stubborn boy." The young nurse, smiled as she opened the drape to Shawn's cubicle. Jon's knees buckled at the sight. Shawn looked so small and frail in the raised hospital bed. Tubes and lines connected to large intimidating machines were all about him. Jon's stomach grew queasy as his ears listened to the beeps and bells and pumps and buzzers of all the equipment sustaining Shawn's fragile body.
Jon froze in the doorway, unable to take a step closer; his eyes nervously scanned the room as he unconsciously held his breath. Shawn looked as though plastic tubing and tape were literally holding him together. He lay so still it sent chills up Jonathan's spine. "You can come closer, it's a bit shocking I know, but you will get used to it." A single tear hugged Jon's cheek; he sniffled and moved in for a closer look. "What's your name?" he asked, wiping his eyes. "I'm Beverly, you can call me Bev. I'm the nurse assigned to Shawn for the next thirty six hours." She smiled as she began to lower Shawn's bed so Jon could settle beside him. He awkwardly pulled up a chair and sat down, his eyes level with the rails on the side of the bed.
"As long as your sitting here, I think we can lower this, you won't let him fall, will you." Beverly swung the rail down as Jon leaned over, shaking his head vehemently. "Can he hear me, if I talk to him?" The pretty redhead smiled as she gently lifted Shawn's arm to take his blood pressure and pulse. "It's hard to say, he's under pretty deep, but you never know, we encourage as much interaction with the patient as possible. It's important to talk to them, touch them, and comfort them. Just the sound of a familiar voice can be extremely soothing, don't be afraid to touch him, take his hand."
Jon reached out his own shaking hand and softly held Shawn's, no reaction what so ever was a bit hard to handle. Jon held his breath as his eyes scanned Shawn top to bottom. The boy's face was as pale as driven snow, his sweat soaked bangs looked almost black as they stuck to his forehead. His chest was packed in gauze and bandages, the edges, and Shawn's skin around them, stained bright yellow. "What's this?" Jon questioned, gently running his finger over the filmy residue. "It's Duraprep, it's used to sterilize the area for surgery, and it will fade in a few days, very normal." Beverly smiled as she jotted notations on Shawn's chart. Jon closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.
Beverly softly raised Shaw's eyelids and shone a penlight into each eye a few times. Jonathan peered closely, alarmed at what he saw. Shawn's pupils were oddly large and the whites of both eyes blood red, "OH GOD!! What's wrong with him?" Jon whispered, glancing at Beverly in confusion. "It's okay, the pupils are enlarged from the medication, and the broken blood vessels were caused by the asphyxiation, he was strangled hard enough to burst microscopic blood vessels running through his eyes, it's okay, it will heal, his vision if fine, I'm sure." Beverly sympathetically placed a hand on Jonathan's shoulder as he took a few quivering breaths, almost loosing his composure.
Beverly tilted Shawn's head slightly sending the respirator buzzing loudly. Jon nearly jumped out of his skin as he leapt from the chair, "NOO, OH MY GOD!!" Beverly waived her hands, as Jonathan grasped his chest, she leaned over and reset the panel, "Relax!! Just relax Jon, it's a vent alarm, any movement or motion will set it off, get used to it because Shawn's only been down here a few hours and already he's set it off a dozen times." Beverly giggled as she took Shawn's temperature, placing a thermometer gently into his ear. "Your young friend likes to bite on that tube, as soon as he's conscious, I'm going to yell at him!!" Jon managed to crack an awkward smile as he plopped back into the chair, his heart thumping a mile a minute.
Beverly finished scribbling onto the chart and returned it to the plastic shelf at the foot of the bed. "His fever is on the rise, I'm going to have to page the Doctor again." Beverly glanced at her watch, starting to crack an icepack at the mini sink in the corner. "This should keep him cool until we can get some meds into him." Beverly placed the pack firmly onto Shawn's forehead as she brushed his cheek with the back of her hand. "I'll be back soon, please make yourself comfortable, I'll bring you some juices in a few minutes. What kind do you want orange, apple or pineapple??" Jon grinned tiredly, "Orange, thank you that sounds great." He leaned onto the bed and took Shawn's hand again. Beverly drew the curtain and stepped out, "The call button is on the right, push it if you need me." She hurried away, leaving Jonathan alone with his ailing charge.
Jonnie sighed heavily as his eyes soaked up the tragic scene. He grabbed a few tissues from the table and leaned in wiping the beads of sweat from Shawn's face and neck. "What can I do kiddo?...How can I make this all go away?..." Jon leaned against the rail, holding the icepack firmly on Shawn's head with one hand and stroking his limp arm with the other. He rested his head on the bed as his eyes watched the mechanical rise and fall of Shawn's chest. It was almost robotic as the machine thrust oxygen into Shawn's unresponsive lungs. Jon lovingly brushed the hair from Shawn's eyes, "Okay, little buddy!! You better listen up Shawnie, you can't leave me you hear!! I need you kid!! I'm no good anymore without you, so you got to fight this!!"
Turner squeezed Shawn's hand with determination. Pursing his lips he vowed to stay by Shawn's side and guide him home, "You're stuck with me, buddy boy!! I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not going to shut up until you wake up and yell at me." I might even lecture on and on about the classics, Shakespeare, Beowulf, The Iliad, The Odyssey, the list is endless!! You know me Hunter; I can talk till the cows come home!! You get better fast and..maybe I cut you a break!!" Just then Jon felt a faint movement under his hand, looking hard into Shawn's face, he smiled. Hoping it wasn't his imagination.
