Duncan stopped by the nurse's station on his way to visit Richie.
"Can I help you?" the woman behind the desk asked.
"I hope so. I'm Duncan MacLeod; I'm Richie's father... I know he's been going on walks and I was hoping I could get permission to take him for a short walk in the courtyard. Would that be possible?"
The woman gave him a pleasant smile. "His doctor is Dr. Lindsay, correct?" she asked picking up the phone.
"Yes."
She spoke into the phone for a moment then hung up. "Dr. Lindsay will be up in a moment; she would like to speak with you personally."
"Okay."
They engaged in pleasant small talk until Dr. Lindsay appeared down the hall, walking toward them.
"Hello, Mr. MacLeod," she greeted him.
"Hi."
"I hear you want to take Richie on a walk?"
"Yes. I know it's probably against regulations or something; that's why I asked you before I mentioned it to him. I just can't stand looking at him in that bed anymore."
"Well, I will make you a deal. I know that as a father of an obviously athletic boy, it's probably very natural for you to want to push him a little bit. If we come to an agreement and you take him out, you cannot push him at all. He does that enough himself."
"I know he does. I won't push him. What's the agreement?"
"He rides down to the courtyard, he rides back, he walks, no jogging, no bouncing, no cute footwork, he walks. Robe on, shoes on."
"Agreed."
"I also want an orderly to go down with you, just in case his body decides he can't take it and quits suddenly on him. Of course, you will be given your privacy, but I just want someone there for emergency."
"Of course.
"Okay. Then you can go tell him the news, and I'll send for a wheel chair."
"Thank you, doctor. I really appreciate it."
"I'm sure Richie will, too."
With a nod of thanks, he went down the hall to Richie's room where he was talking sports with a nurse who was sitting by his bed obviously trying to coax him into eating something.
"Didn't mean to interrupt," Duncan said from the doorway.
"Hey, Mac."
The nurse smiled and stood up from her seat. "If you can get him to eat, I'll forgive you."
"Richie..."
"Have you seen this stuff, man? I don't know what it is, but I know it's not food."
"Just a few more days, Richie," she told him. "And if you'd eat it, you'd be that much closer."
"I'll get him to eat it," Duncan promised, taking her place.
"Good, because I sure can't." She smiled and left the room, leaving them alone.
"Well..." Duncan picked up the bowl off the tray in front of Richie. He stirred it around for a minute, then scooped some up.
"What are you doing?" Richie asked.
"Here comes the airplane...." Duncan teased weaving the spoon in the air toward Richie's mouth.
Richie closed his mouth and raised his eyebrows. The message was clear: I don't think so.
"I'll make you a deal," Duncan said, dropping the spoon back into the bowl. "You eat this and we'll go for a walk."
"Nice try, Mac, but I've already seen the hall."
"I'll take you down into the garden."
"I don't think they'll let you."
Duncan smirked. "Already have permission. But you have to eat first." Duncan pushed the bowl toward Richie, who made no move to touch it. "You're going to have to eat anyway, might as well get something out of it."
Richie wrinkled his nose and picked up the spoon. "I'd rather eat that oatmeal you keep trying to force down my throat."
"I'll remember that when you get home."
"Gee, thanks." Richie picked up the spoon and took a bite of his healthful mystery mush.
"I bet that would taste better if you ate it when they brought it to you."
Richie swallowed. "One would think..."
"Doesn't make a difference?"
"Not one bit."
"Well, hurry up and eat so we can get out of this room," Duncan encouraged.
Duncan was helping Richie into the robe he had brought him, when an orderly arrived with a wheelchair.
"Hey, kid."
Richie looked up from his feet after sliding them into his slippers. "Hey, Brad. Got my wheels?"
"Sure do, kid. You ready?" Brad asked, positioning the chair and putting the break on.
"Almost."
"I brought you something special." Brad picked up a belt off the seat of the chair.
"Oh, Brad, you shouldn't have..."
"Put it on, kid." Richie took the belt and wrapped it around his waist under his robe. "Oh, want to know a secret?" Brand asked, unhooking the catheter bag from the side of the bed. "Don't want mere strangers gauging your output? Just hook it to your belt, and hide it from prying eyes." He closed Richie's robe, hiding the belt and bag.
"Cool." Richie nodded. "Mac, can you bring that around for me?" he asked pointing at the IV poll. "Oh, duh, sorry. Mac, this is Brad, Brad, Mac."
Brad smiled and shook Duncan's hand as he rounded the bed with the poll. "Nice to meet you."
"You, too."
"Okay, I'm ready," Richie announced, pushing up off the bed. Brad and Duncan helped him into the chair and they all spoke pleasantly as they rode the elevator to the first floor and went to the indoor courtyard at the center of the hospital.
"Here we are." Brad stopped the chair. "Up, we have to train the newbie." He gave Richie a hand out of the chair and didn't let go until Richie was steady on his feet, holding onto the IV poll. "All you have to do," he told Duncan. "Is reach back here and grab onto the belt. Don't try to hold him up, but keep a grip just in case he stumbles."
"I can do that." Duncan took Brad's place and slid his hand behind Richie's robe. "Anything else?"
"Just let him lead. I'll be right here in case you need me." Brad took a seat on a bench along the walk.
"You ready, Rich?" Duncan asked.
"Let's go," he replied.
They started off down the smooth, slightly rubbery path, at a slow, but steady pace. Duncan held onto Richie's belt tightly with one hand, and gently gripped his arm with the other. Richie didn't protest the extra help and held onto the IV poll, rolling it along beside him.
"I wanted to talk to you, Rich," Duncan said as they made the first turn.
"About what?"
"I shouldn't have left the other night," Duncan started.
"Are you talking about the nightmare? Mac, I told you to leave."
"I shouldn't have listened. You were scared and embarrassed; I should have stayed with you. And I should have come back the next day. The truth is, I am at a complete loss of what to do."
"Mac..."
"Hear me out. If this had been an immortal, I would know what to do. I would have known where you were and how to rescue you. This would be over; it never would have gotten this far, you wouldn't be here right now. You'd be at home, complaining about doing the filing and eating foods you've never heard of." He paused, and Richie nodded, taking it all in. "But the way it did happen... I have no way to help you. I can't go out there and get whoever did this to you. I have to sit back and let the FBI do all the work... I feel so useless and helpless."
Richie snorted. "You felt helpless? Next time we'll trade places. I'll sit at home knowing everything that's going on and you can sit in a room by yourself completely outta the loop."
"I would, Richie," Duncan said, stopping them both and looking the teen directly in the eye. "In a heart beat. I'd trade with you now, then, and anytime in the future." When Richie tried to look away, he forced his eyes back to his. "I will always put your safety first and foremost. I never want to see you in danger. And it kills me to look at you now, see what condition you're in, and know that you were in such worse shape just a few weeks ago...there was nothing I could do...even now... I had to get permission to get just to take you for a walk. There are only certain hours I can see you..."
"A control freak with no control over anything."
Duncan smiled. "Basically." He changed his grip and he and Richie started walking again.
After a few more minutes of walking, Richie decided he was ready to get off his feet, so they headed back to where Brad was waiting for them.
"Do you really think I'm a control freak?" Duncan asked, as he helped Richie into the chair.
Richie smiled up at him. "You started it."
A week later, Duncan and Tessa arrived at visiting hours and were greeted by a very perky Richie.
"What's all this about?" Duncan asked. "Did you get your burger?"
Richie grinned. "No, better. I graduated potty training last night."
"What?"
"No more caferter."
Tessa laughed. "Catheter."
"Whatever, the important thing is I get to use a real toilet now!"
"That's great, Rich!" Duncan smiled at him.
"And check this out." Richie swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up.
"Whoa, Richie," Duncan moved beside him. The day he had taken Richie for a walk then teen had been strong, but unsteady at times.
"No, Mac, it's cool. I'm fine. See?" He bounced on the balls of his feet. Walked to the door and back. "Nothin' to it! I don't need anyone holding onto me anymore."
Tessa smiled and shook her head. "Back in bed."
"One thing first." He went to the locker like cabinet in the corner of the room and dug around in the bag Duncan and Tessa had brought him almost two weeks earlier. Grinning, he turned around and held up his prize, a clean pair of boxers. "I just realized I can wear something other than this dumb thing now." He pulled at his hospital gown.
"You better ask first," Tessa said. "What about your rash?"
Richie blushed a little and his hands instinctively went to check on his chapped rear. How could he forget about that? It wasn't sore anymore but it got checked on every few hours.
"Don't tell me you're doing jumping jacks again," Dr. Lindsey sighed from the doorway.
Richie smiled at her. "Can I put pants on now?"
"Can you say..."
"Caferter," he interrupted dropping the shorts back in the cabinet and closing the door. "You're just gonna hold that over me for the rest of my life, aren't you?"
"You know, maybe you should stay on this healthy diet," Duncan commented. "You can have your junk food back when you can say catheter."
"That's not funny, Mac."
"So have you really caught him doing jumping jacks?" Duncan asked the doctor.
"Oh, jumping jacks, sit ups, push ups..." Dr. Lindsey listed off. "I think someone wants to go home. But someone also knows he's not going home until..."
"I know, I know," Richie cut in. "You don't have to keep telling me. It's not like it's my fault. If I got some real food maybe I'd be able to take a decent dump."
The doctor smiled at him. "Maybe. So, guess what time it is."
"Tool time?"
"Nope." She put on her rubber gloves.
"Oh," he cringed. "Touch Richie in embarrassing places time?"
"That's the one. But on the bright side your days here are numbered."
"Mr. MacLeod!" a reporter yelled as Duncan tried to walk out to the car from the hospital. "How is your son doing?"
"Any word on the kidnappers?"
"How long until we can speak to Richie?"
"Will he be released from the hospital soon?"
"What sort of injuries did he get?"
"Is there going to be anymore information released?"
Duncan kept quiet and got into the car and drove away. He was ready for Richie to come home, but he wasn't ready to see how the teen would react to all the publicity he had been getting since his disappearance.
"Rich," Duncan whispered a week later, gently shaking the sleeping teen. "Rich, wake up."
Richie pushed his hand away and rolled over. "Umshepng," he grumbled.
"C'mon, Rich, time to get up and get dressed." Duncan put Richie's clothes on the foot of the hospital bed.
Dr. Lindsey came in with a smile. "Good morning, Richie," she greeted. "You ready to go home?"
"Mauhh!" Richie groaned as the lights were flipped on.
"Come on, Rich. The sooner you get up and get dressed the sooner you can go back to sleep at home."
Dr. Lindsey gently took out Richie's IV and put a band-aid in its place. "I want to give you one more look over, while your dad and mom finish all the paperwork."
Richie passed his tests and insisted on getting dressed himself. An orderly showed up, right as he was tying his shoes, with a wheelchair.
"You leaving?" the tall muscular man asked.
"Yup, sorry, Stanley, guess you'll need to find a new midnight poker buddy." Richie straightened up and allowed Stanley to help him into the wheelchair.
"Maybe I'll find one that isn't so good and I'll make a little money." He pushed Richie out to the reception area where Duncan and Tessa were signing the last of the release papers.
"That should be it," the nurse on duty smiled, glancing over the papers quickly. "Richie needs to be here Wednesday at three for PT and you need to schedule a check up for him in about a week."
"We can do that," Tessa said, taking Richie's bag from Stanley.
"Okay. Richie's free to go," the nurse said.
"Do we need to keep him on any sort of diet or exercise schedule?" Duncan asked.
"He should be okay. As far as his diet goes, introduce the fattier foods slowly, he can't go to a country buffet and eat chicken fried steak and fired okra tonight, but a reasonably healthy diet should be just fine. His body can tell you what he can and can't handle. Exercise wise, he needs to take it easy, but he's not confined to bed by any means. He just has to listen to his body when it sets limits."
Duncan smiled at Richie. "Easier said than done."
They had leaked to the press that Richie was to be released from the hospital after lunch that day, so there were very few people there as Richie was wheeled to the door. Richie looked around; he made eye contact with a man sitting in the waiting area. He gave him a polite smile and looked back toward the doors that lead to his freedom.
Collin nodded at the boy as he smiled at him. He had done it. There was no recognition in the kid's eyes. Everything was working out perfectly.
"Can we put the top down?" Richie asked as Duncan started the engine to the T-Bird.
"I don't know, Rich, it's a little cold out."
"C'mon, please? This is the first time I've seen the outside in a long time," Richie begged. "I'm sick of being closed in, I wanna feel the... the... please? I'll stay in bed the rest of the day," he bargained.
"It's a short drive, Duncan," Tessa said. "Maybe some fresh air would be good for him."
Duncan sighed. "You promise you won't push yourself?"
"Swear it," Richie grinned.
"Alright. Button your coat up."
Richie snapped his jacket up to the collar and leaned back with a content sigh as the fresh, crisp, early morning air rushed over him, messing his short, but steadily grown hair, and chilling his skin.
All too soon the car pulled to a stop in the alley behind the store. Richie went upstairs and headed to his room to make good on his promise when Tessa took his arm and lead him toward the roof access.
"I want you to see something," she told him.
They emerged on the roof and she turned him so he was facing east. The sun was just starting to rise. The sky was royal blue except for a small tinge of pink on the horizon. The moon and stars faded as the sun began to peek over the horizon. The sky slowly turned a vibrant red, turning the clouds pink. Then, so subtly it was almost instant, the sky was orange and the sun was in full view just above the city buildings.
"I thought you'd like to see the sun rise."
Richie looked at her, a sad smile on his face. "I've never seen the sun rise before."
"Never?"
Richie shook his head. "I like my sleep."
"I love seeing the sunrise. It makes everything feel so new, clean. It's a fresh start. Everything that happened the day before never happened. Everything is brand new." She put her arm around his shoulders and gave his a one armed hug. "Welcome to your fresh start. Everything that happened before is over now."