A/N: Finally back with a new chap. This one is still coming a little slowly for me. Haven't quite found my full swing with it yet. Concentrating on getting IAFU finished probably isn't helping but hopefully the mojo will kick in eventually. Sara will be back into surgery soon. How will that go down and what will it mean for the Grissom's? Can Griss keep it together? I guess we'll see…
Thank you so much to calim for being the bionic beta. Bam! I get 4 chaps all back together lol. (I'm ahead with IAFU). Your advice continues to keep me inspired. And to all of you that take the time to read, and review, thanks for sticking with me.
On we go…
Chapter 7
During their short time away from Sara's room, Catherine had pulled Grissom into a conversation about the immediate future. She knew he'd be spending a lot, if not all, of his time at the hospital. So what about Michael? Claire, the nanny, wouldn't be back from Europe for two more weeks and, no doubt, the hospital might begin to frown on Michael being in Sara's room all the time.
But, Grissom had been unable to come up with an immediate answer. He just didn't know and, by the time she'd asked the question, his meds were starting to kick in, making him too tired to think on such things.
Graciously, Catherine chose not to push, instead focusing on cleaning up Michael's ice cream covered face then promising to return later with supplies for them both.
And now, three hours after the hospital staff had stopped their attempts to get an upset Michael to rest in Grissom's room, both of them were sound asleep in a comfy chair near Sara's bed. Safely wrapped in his father's arms and covered in a blanket, he looked like the angel he was most of the time.
A clatter rose around them and Grissom's eyes slowly opened. Working a hand down Michael's back, he looked around, spotting a nurse pushing a trolley out of the room. She walked past another nurse who stepped up to an unfamiliar doctor hovering by Sara's feet. Swallowing over a dry throat, he managed to shift Michael so he could sneak out from under him, then slowly rose. Making sure Michael wasn't going to fall out of the chair, Grissom moved towards the bed.
"Something happening?" he asked with yawn, his eyes drifting to Sara to see she was now awake.
The doctor looked his way. "Just lowering the elevation of her left ankle a little," he replied.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Grissom cleared his throat. "And you are?"
"Dr. Jones," the man replied and Grissom's eyebrows rose. "Yes, I've heard all the jokes," the doctor continued. "So feel free to call me Jack and not Indiana."
Hearing Sara snort, Grissom looked back her way, stepping close and offering a smile.
"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, squeezing her hand.
"High," she whispered, glancing at him with a silly grin.
Frowning a bit at her, Grissom looked toward the doctor who was pulling out Sara's chart from its holder.
"We've increased her medication a little," he said before Grissom could ask what was happening. "We'd cut back because of surgery but the pain was beginning to filter through."
"Oh." Grissom's frowned deepened. "Does that mean surgery won't be happening?"
Looking up from his writing, Jack shook his head. "No, it will be fine. But we have a very fine line to work with medication wise because of the anesthetic. We've just about hit that maximum."
"And if her pain gets any worse?" Grissom questioned but felt Sara squeeze his hand. His head tipped back her way and she swallowed before talking.
"Stop…worrying," she said croakily.
Stop worrying? That was doubtful.
"Are you thirsty?" he asked and she nodded.
"I'll bring some ice chips," the nurse said before leaving.
"The current level of medication should be sufficient," Jack said, putting the chart away. "So we won't think of having to alter plans unless that changes. No point worrying about something that, hopefully, won't happen."
Exhaling a silent and nervous breath, Grissom felt Sara squeeze his hand again and regained his attention.
"How is…the monster…doing?" she asked.
Turning his head, Grissom looked towards the chair.
"He doesn't want to be very far away from you right now," he told her.
"He's been…through so much," she said sadly.
Sitting down in a chair, Grissom nodded, watching out of the corner of his eye as the doctor walked from the room to chat with a nurse by the door.
"Yeah," he sighed. "But he's strong. Just like you."
She smiled. "And you."
Reaching out, he twirled a few strands of hair behind her ear and they stared at each other until Sara spoke again.
"Do you think…this surgery…is going to work?"
He really didn't know the answer to that question but what was he supposed to say?
"I hope so," he eventually replied trying to sound as positive as he could. When she continued to stare at him, blinking drearily, he knew she was as unsure as he was. "I promise…we'll get through this," he encouraged, taking her hand.
A single nod came from her before her head tipped to the side when Michael's voice was heard.
"Daddy?" Michael called out, rubbing his eyes and looking around.
"Over here," Grissom said before stepping towards him.
Spotting his father, Michael pushed the blanket from his lap. "Wee wee, Daddy," he said holding out his hand.
"Oh." Reaching out a hand, Grissom helped Michael from the chair. "Daddy will take you but we have to go down the hall."
Michael yawned but then spotted Sara smiling at him. "Mommy!" he squealed with glee before breaking away from his father to skip excitedly towards the bed.
"Hey!" Grissom shouted, giving chase as his son quickly tried to climb up the bedsheet. "We don't climb up there," Grissom scolded.
Turning, Michael huffed. "But I can't see Mommy down here," he complained.
Eyebrows rising, Grissom glanced at Sara and she smirked. "I thought you needed the bathroom?" he said returning his attention to Michael.
"Yes," Michael agreed. "But Mommy's not sleeping now."
"Well, I promise she'll still be here when you get back. We'll only be a minute and considering I don't have any other clothes for you here I'd rather we didn't have a little accident. Okay?" After thinking for a second, Michael eventually nodded. "Good. Now, come on," Grissom finished, holding out his hand and wriggling his fingers. "Be right back," he said to Sara as Michael took his hand.
Sara smiled then nodded watching as her husband crossed paths with the nurse returning with the ice chips. Considering how dry her mouth and throat was, she was very thankful.
"How's your pain now, Sara?" Christine asked.
"Much better," Sara whispered.
Taking a piece of ice onto the spoon, Christine held it out to her. "Good," she said. "You should be nice and comfortable for the rest of the day."
Opening her mouth, Sara took in the ice, quickly sucking and swallowing before accepting another.
"When will," she began, "I be able to…drink properly again?"
"That will all depend on surgery tomorrow," Christine answered, "and how your body reacts afterwards." Swallowing then licking her lips, Sara nodded drearily. "We don't purposely try and dry out our patients, honey. There are precautions we have to take."
"I know," Sara admitted quietly.
Well aware of what could happen if she had oral fluids when she wasn't supposed to, Sara nodded then glanced toward the doorway. A smile returned when her son and husband reappeared, Michael eagerly dragging Grissom back into the room.
The nurse smiled at Michael when he stopped next to her. "You look keen," she told him.
"Yes," Michael agreed, holding up his arms. "Up, please."
"And a clever little thing, aren't you?" Christine pointed out, flashing a bewildered looking Grissom a smile before putting the ice down and helping Michael up onto a chair. "He knows you can't lift him," she informed him.
Eyebrows rising, Grissom nodded. "Yeah," he whispered proudly, not many two year olds would have figured that out.
"Hey, sweetie," Sara greeted as Michael sat down and leaned towards her.
"Mommy better yet?" he asked.
A sad smile hit Sara's lips. "Not yet, baby."
"I'll leave you to it for a little while," Christine said. "Just call if you need anything," she told Grissom.
"Okay," he said as she left, moving to pick up the beaker of ice. "Do you want some more, honey?"
Sara nodded. "Maybe just one."
Michael watched his father as he took hold of the spoon. "Mommy having ice cream? Michael had ice cream."
"Um," Grissom mumbled, eyes meeting his wife's. "Almost. But this is to stop Mommy feeling thirsty. It's just ice."
"Ick. Ice not tasty."
Another smile passed over Sara's lips as she sucked on the ice.
"Well this is all Mommy can have right now or she might be sick," Grissom continued, putting the beaker down. That wasn't really true but the easiest way to explain it to his son.
The words just floated by Michael and he looked over his mother's legs. "When are you getting out of bed?" he asked. "Been in bed all day."
Opening her mouth, Sara paused, a frown creasing her brow. He was so much like his father. Too inquisitive and had to question everything.
Blowing out a breath, Grissom scratched the back of his neck. This was hard work trying to figure out how to tell Michael certain things. He was just curious, he had to remind himself. Just wanted to know why Sara wasn't her active self. Man, he desperately needed something to keep his son occupied.
"Mommy has to wait for her legs to get better before she can get out of bed," Grissom finally said.
Reaching out, Sara took Michael's hand. "Mommy needs…to have an operation then, hopefully, I can…think about…getting better."
"And then we go home with the babies?" he asked.
A soft sigh left her lips. "Yes."
"Babies need names," Michael said.
Pursing her lips, Sara looked at Grissom and he smiled. "Yes, they do," she agreed. "Any suggestions, dear?"
Grissom shrugged. "Honestly, I have no clue."
The sound of a knock rattling behind him made Grissom look over his shoulder. Seeing Catherine there with bags in her hands, he tapped Sara on the arm.
"Be right back. Michael, you stay exactly where you are. You got that?"
Michael nodded. "Yes, Daddy. I not move."
Quickly moving to the door, he was greeted with a smile.
"I bring clothes, snacks and toys for Mike," she said.
"Did you bring diapers?"
She frowned at him. "I thought Mike was out of diapers."
Grissom nodded. "He is but… I don't know. Don't worry."
With her eyes narrowing suspiciously she put the bags down. "Spill," she requested. "There must be a reason you're asking."
"It's silly," Grissom admitted. "Just earlier I thought we were going to have an accident."
"And did you?"
"No."
"Then give him the benefit of the doubt. And to be fair, right now, accidents probably will happen."
"Yeah," he agreed. "You said you brought toys?"
"I did," she confirmed. "I thought it might be useful but he won't be able to play with them in there. In fact, I'm surprised they've allowed him to stay in there so long. Someone of his age is usually only allowed quick visits."
He nodded his agreement. "I know but, thankfully, he hasn't given any reason not to be allowed near his mother and I know it helps them both. Me, too. All of us together, we're stronger."
She smiled and squeezed his arm. "I know," she agreed looking at her watch. It was after 5pm. "He'll be getting hungry though. He only had breakfast and ice cream today."
"Thanks for the info, Mom." Rolling her eyes, she looked down the corridor. "But you're right," he agreed. "And it will be his bedtime in a few hours so I should think about getting him something."
"You're going to need to get him out of there, Gil," she pointed out. "Because he won't be able to eat inside."
Sighing, Grissom glanced back into the room to see Michael making a shape with his hands and then he heard Sara giggle. His son was a true marvel.
"I know," he said. "I guess I'll think of something."
"Maybe just be honest with him? He seems to react better to the soft touch rather than being told."
Nodding, Grissom rubbed a hand over his chin. "Do you mind dropping the bags in my room?"
"I can do that," she agreed. "Anything else you need?"
"How about baby names?"
Catherine laughed. "What?"
"Never mind," he sighed. "What are you doing now?"
"I'll probably head into the lab if you don't need anything. Are you sure you don't want me to take Mike back to my place? I really don't mind."
His head shook. "I'll keep him with me. At least for tonight."
Picking up the bags, she nodded. "Okay, but call me if you need anything."
"I will. Thanks."
Saying goodnight to Catherine, Grissom turned back toward Sara's bed, enjoying the smiles on his family's faces.
"You do make…Mommy happy."
Hearing Sara's words made him feel warm inside.
"What are we talking about?" he asked curiously wondering what had got Sara giggling.
She smirked. "Mike was…giving suggestions for…the twin's names."
"Oh?"
"Jack and Jill…are top of his list."
Eyebrows pinching together, Grissom felt a blurt of laughter build in his throat and slide all the way up until it left his lips. Sara managed a snicker and Michael joined in just for the fun of it adding a clap for good measure.
"Did they go up the hill, Mike?" Grissom chuckled.
"Yes," Michael squealed enthusiastically.
"So cute," Sara mumbled.
Taking a breath, Grissom watched as her eyes closed and he calmed his laughter. Maybe this bout of happiness could aid him in getting Michael from the room. But before he had the chance to say anything else, Christine returned.
"How are we doing?" she asked, moving around to the IV and doing her usual checks.
"Baby names," Michael told her.
She looked at him. "Baby names?" she questioned innocently.
"He's giving us suggestions," Grissom told her.
"Great," she remarked. "And I have a little news for you about your daughter as well."
Sara's eyes sprang open, her head tipping towards the nurse. "What?"
Laying a comforting hand on Sara's shoulder, the nurse smiled. "It's good news so relax."
"Yeah?"
"Yes," Christine confirmed. "Her oxygen intake through the pump has been reduced. She's really coming to grips with breathing properly without it."
A smile curled Sara's mouth. "Really?" A healthy nod came and Sara smiled. "And what about…my son?"
"No change but he's still progressing."
Exhaling a nervous breath, Sara looked at her husband.
"This is good news," he encouraged. "Let's be positive, okay?"
"Yeah," she whispered. "Can I…see them again?"
He smiled, pulling out his phone. "Sure. Catherine sent a copy of the footage to me."
"Just so you know," Christine cut in, "dinner rounds start in just over half an hour. You might to think about getting back to your room so you can eat."
Grissom nodded. "Yeah, thanks."
Smiling, Christine stepped away and Grissom found the video. As he hit play and held it out for his wife to watch, he turned his attention to Michael.
"Did you hear that Mike?" Michael looked at him. "Dinner will be ready soon. Are you hungry?"
Michael nodded quickly. "Yes. Hungry. Chicken nuggets and fries. Yes. And pretzels. And yogurt."
Blinking, Grissom couldn't help a smirk. "I'm not totally sure that's all possible but we'll try our best to get close to it."
Michael looked around. "Food now?"
"Soon," Grissom answered, restarting the footage once it stopped. "And we have to go to Daddy's room to eat, okay? Mommy will need to rest for a little while." Frowning, Michael shook his head.
Buoyed by her confidence, he stepped closer and dropped a hand on his son's knee.
"Mike, look," he continued, "we want Mommy to get better as quickly as possible don't we?" Michael quickly nodded. "In order to do that, we have to do what the doctors tell us and, sometimes, that means we have to leave Mommy alone."
"Why?"
"Well, she might need tests or she might need to sleep and we can't bring certain things in here because we could bring in germs."
"Germs are bad," Michael said.
"Yes, they are," Grissom agreed. "And we wouldn't want to bring them near Mommy now would we?" Michael shook his head. "One of the things we can't do in here is eat and that's why we need to leave Mommy alone for a while. We don't want her to worry if you don't eat do we?"
"No," Michael agreed. "No worry."
Sara smiled, replaying the footage one more time. She just couldn't get enough of seeing her babies.
"So let's go and get our dinner," Grissom said. "And then we can come back for half an hour or so before bedtime." Michael nodded and Grissom breathed a sigh of relief, running his fingertips through his son's hair. "Good boy."
Lowering her hand, Sara sighed, catching Grissom's attention again.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "Is he…staying with you…tonight?"
"You know me too well."
"Don't forget…to make sure he…brushes his teeth…and washes."
Leaning in, Grissom laid a delicate kiss across her lips. "I won't. Be back soon."
Sara nodded again. "Okay."
A/N: Surely this fluff can't last… this is me. :D