A/N: Hey guys. Sorry this has taken so long. New job means not much free time plus the fic has been quite a challenge for me so far with the mojo fairy taking a walk. So, I thank you for your patience. Thanks as always to calim for being my rock, your support means everything.
Please keep your thoughts coming, the more the merrier.
On we go…
Chapter 8
Dinner had gone much better than Grissom expected. Instead of the wanted chicken nuggets and fries, they were given chicken breasts and baked potatoes. After a quick frown and a poke with his fork, Michael had cleaned his plate, something his father hadn't done. And he'd heard about it from the nurse taking issue with his lack of appetite, reminding him that he wasn't setting a very good example.
But he couldn't help it. He had tried but the thought of impending surgery on his wife made the food settle like lead in his stomach. And he couldn't get that thought out of his mind now. The clock was ticking and morning would soon be upon them and, with that, a surgery that could determine whether Sara ever walked again.
Flicking on the TV and finding cartoons for Michael to watch while he ate his yogurt, Grissom opened up the bags Catherine had brought, rummaging for his son's PJ's and toothbrush. Not far from tipping out the entire bag onto the bed, he finally found them and put them aside. Just as he was about to start repacking the bag, Michael looked over his shoulder and spotted something he wanted.
"Ant!" he said happily as he got up, dropped the empty yogurt container on the bed, and picked up his favorite stuffy.
Smiling, Grissom knelt in front of Michael and removed his shoes. "How about we put Ant down and get those teeth all nice and sparkly, huh?"
"Then we go back to Mommy?"
"Once we've got you ready for bed, yes. But not for too long. Mommy needs to rest for tomorrow. Okay?"
Nodding, Michael put Ant down and headed for the bathroom, Grissom's eyebrows rising as his son called to him.
"Come on, Daddy! Waiting."
Snorting, Grissom grabbed the PJ's and toothbrush and followed after Michael. "You're not usually so keen for this," he pointed out, popping the plug into the sink and turning on the taps.
Michael held up his arms. "Mommy's waiting," he said. "Undress."
"Yes, sir," Grissom snickered.
Doing his son's bidding, Grissom undressed, washed, dried and got him into his PJ's in record time. Glancing about, he realized there wasn't anything for Michael to stand on so proceeded to brush his teeth as well.
"There we go," Grissom said, giving his son's hair a quick brush. "Now we're all nice and clean."
"Yes," Michael agreed. "Daddy wash, too?"
"I will later when we get back from seeing Mommy," he replied, giving his own hair a quick brush. "Want to try and put your shoes back on?"
With a quick nod, Michael ran back into the bedroom. Grissom couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm as he followed after him, watching as he sat on the floor and tugged on his shoes leaving the laces for him to tie. Using the bed to steady himself, he knelt next to his son and did just that.
"There," he said, pulling the second lace into a small knot. "All done."
"Yes," Michael agreed, rolling over and getting to his feet.
Grissom slowly pushed himself up and glanced at the clock. Michael's bedtime was fast approaching and he hoped he wouldn't be up all night. They all needed to rest because tomorrow was going to be a long day and, although he hated to admit it, he was exhausted.
"Come on then," he said, holding out his hand. "Let's go say goodnight to Mommy."
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Grissom's worries about a late evening were unfounded upon discovering Sara asleep when they made it to her room. Disappointed, Michael was distracted by the nurse wrapping and unwrapping an Ace bandage on his arm while explaining to them both that sleep was the best thing for her. Deciding to stay for a while, the two took up residence next to the bed, watching her sleep and talking about all the things they'd seen today.
A little over 30 minutes later, they were back in their room – Michael playing with Ant and occasionally looking up at the TV while Grissom worked on his laptop. Pretty sure that searching for information on leg trauma was a bad idea, he did it anyway, thinking the more he knew would make him better prepared to help Sara deal with whatever was to come even if it doubled his worry.
About 15 minutes into checking various medical websites, he felt a tug on his pant leg and looked down to see Michael yawning.
"Bedtime, Daddy."
Smiling, Grissom shifted the laptop from his lap and placed it on the nightstand next to the bed. Flicking off the TV, he clicked on the bedside lights and turned off the room lights.
"Do you need to use the bathroom?" he asked. Michael shook his head and Grissom pulled the covers back next to him. "Come on then," he said, reaching out to take hold of Michael's hand as he managed to make his way onto the bed.
Climbing over his father's legs, Michael got comfortable, bouncing up and down a few times. "Harder than my bed," he pointed out. "Not springy."
"Indeed," Grissom agreed, pulling the covers over his son and passing Ant to him. "But hospital beds aren't made to bounce up and down on."
Cuddling his stuffed toy, Michael dropped his head to the pillow and Grissom smiled at him, running his fingertips through his son's hair.
"Are you warm enough?" Michael nodded and got a kiss on the forehead. "Night-night."
"Night, Daddy," Michael mumbled, closing his eyes.
Grissom watched him for a few minutes until he was sure he was asleep and, thankfully, he drifted off pretty quickly. Swinging his legs over the bed, he was yawning as a nurse stepped in.
"Early night for you, too, I think," she said, spotting Michael asleep as she handed Grissom a pill pot.
"Yeah," he agreed, dropping the pills into his mouth and washing them down with the water she'd provided.
"Just make sure he doesn't go wandering around in the middle of the night won't you," she advised. "It's a big hospital and I know how those pills can knock you out."
Giving her a weak smile, he shook his head. "He won't wander anywhere. He's always been taught not to do that and does as he's told."
"I wish all kids were that well behaved," she chuckled. "Is there anything I can get you?"
Grissom shook his head. "No, I'm good thanks."
"Then get some rest."
He nodded. "I'll do my best."
After spending a half hour working on his laptop, Grissom felt the pills starting to kick in. Undressing in the bathroom, he washed and slipped on his pajama bottoms then stared at himself in the mirror. Dropping a hand to the dressing over his ribs, he gave it a poke, thankful, they weren't as sore now. Next he prodded his nose. The swelling had gone down. Slowly, he was healing. But that didn't make him feel any better on the inside. His eyes were drawn to the hand with the missing pinky. It wasn't something they talked about much anymore; its loss had become a part of him just like slipping on his glasses to read. But now, all the shit they'd been through in recent years was becoming a bit overwhelming.
Sighing, he pulled on a t-shirt then headed back toward the bed. Sitting on the edge, he watched Michael peacefully sleep and found himself smiling. Kicking off his slippers, he slid in beside his son and flicked off the light, his mind still very much fixed on Sara's surgery. It had to go well, he thought as he closed his eyes. It just had to.
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Morning came all too quickly for Grissom as the TV woke him just before 6am. Michael was already up and randomly pressing buttons on the remote in search of cartoons. As early as it was, he decided to spend an hour watching TV with his son before getting them both washed and dressed for the day.
A few hours later as they were finishing off their breakfasts, Grissom heard a text come through on the phone Catherine had given him. Wiping off his hands, he picked it up.
"Should be there just before 9. You need to decide what you want to do with Michael because I need to let mom know if you want her to have him tonight. C U soon."
Sighing, Grissom put the phone down and glanced at Michael. He knew his son wanted to be as close to his mother as possible. It was a good feeling for the most part having him there, for both of them, but in his heart, it wasn't practical. Not for Michael or for the hospital. He was fortunate and grateful they had allowed him to stay the night but another night would surely be pushing it. The last thing he wanted was for his son to get sick and hospitals were a prime place for that.
Just then a nurse stepped in and he looked her way.
"Sara will be having her pre-assessment soon, so you should think about heading over there if you want to see her before her operation," she told him.
Grissom gave a swift nod. "Okay," he replied. "Thanks."
Smiling, she took away their plates and Grissom grabbed Michael's shoes.
"Come on, Mike," he urged. "We need to see Mommy before she goes for her operation or you'll have to wait until tonight."
Jumping from his chair, Michael sprinted the few steps to his father and climbed up the bed faster than a monkey climbing the tree before sticking out his legs. Grissom smiled and slipped his shoes on.
"Now you need to be strong for Mommy, okay? Today is a big day and we need to give her all the support we can."
"Yes, Daddy," Michael answered. "Strong."
"Good." Holding out his hand, he helped Michael down and they headed for the door.
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When they arrived, Sara's room was full of medical staff so they waited by the door. Soon almost everyone was gone except for Steven and one nurse so now they approached the bed.
Sara's head immediately tipped their way and she smiled. "Hi," she whispered.
Grissom smiled back. "Hi," he said softly, leaning in to kiss her forehead, noticing butterfly stitches on her face were missing.
"Up, Daddy," Michael requested.
Straightening out, he glanced at his son. "You have no patience," he accused lightheartedly. Michael just stared at him and Grissom looked at the doctor. "Is he okay to get up? No impending movement about to happen?"
Putting Sara's chart away, Steven smiled. "We're good for about 15 minutes," he said, pushing up a chair for Michael and helping him up onto it.
"Hi, baby," Sara said groggily, holding out her hand to Michael.
"How are things this morning?" Grissom asked Steven.
Steven nodded. "We're doing okay. I have some forms for you to sign for surgery so why don't we step outside for a second? Maggie will keep an eye on Michael.
Grissom's right eye twitched, a tingle of suspicion shooting down his spine. "Okay," he agreed. "Back in a second, honey," he said to Sara before following the doctor from the room."
Leaning over a desk at the nurse's station, Steven grabbed a clipboard and handed it to Grissom. "If you could check the surgery consent forms for me and then sign," he requested.
Taking the papers, he pulled his glasses from his pocket and began reading through them. "So," he began, "she's really doing okay? I gather as you've given me the forms that there isn't an issue with surgery?"
"She has a slight fever due to a small infection in her right leg," Steven admitted.
Grissom's head shot up, an immediate look of concern passing over his face.
The doctor held up a hand. "Due to the nature of Sara's injuries this was more probable than possible."
"So…this doesn't change anything?"
"Not at the moment. We will treat it with antibiotics and monitor very closely. But it's obviously not making her feel any better and making her weaker than she already was."
Sighing, Grissom looked back to the room for a second. "Does she know?"
Steven nodded. "Yes."
Happy with the forms, he signed and handed them back to the doctor. "How long will surgery take?"
"Give or take about 4 hours. It will depend if there are any complications."
Swallowing hard, Grissom ran a nervous hand through is hair. "Do you…um…think there will be any complications?"
"We would hope not," Steven replied. "But they can happen. Any surgery can come with complications. However, let's be positive, okay?"
Blowing out a breath, Grissom nodded. "Do you know how the babies are?"
"Doing well," he replied. Now Grissom smiled. "Why don't you stop by and see them while Sara is in surgery?"
"I might just do that," Grissom agreed.
"Good." Steven looked over his shoulder when he heard his name. "I'll be back shortly. Keep your chin up."
"Yeah," Grissom sighed.
Taking a few moments, he smiled as he entered the room because Sara was smiling. Michael always seemed to make that happen.
Looking his way as he approached, Sara did her best to hold out her hand to him despite being so weak. Seeing that struggle, he quickly held out his own, softly clasping hers and trying his best not to look worried. It didn't work very well.
"Did…he tell you?" Sara asked.
Grissom felt his heart thudding a little faster and he wasn't exactly sure why. "About the infection?"
She smirked. "That…would be a yes…then."
"Yes," he whispered. "He told me."
"You're not," she began, squeezing his hand, "to worry. It's just…making me tired…that's all."
He didn't know what to say. She was being so strong but he knew she was as terrified as he was. But she'd never tell him just as he would never tell her. It was very rare these days for them to keep secrets from each other but, sometimes, things just didn't need to be said aloud.
"Whether you are as fit as a fiddle or sick as a dog," he replied, "you're my world, Sara. I will always worry one way or the other."
And then his heart caught in his throat when a tear suddenly spilled from her eye and trickled down her cheek.
"Hey," he soothed, leaning close and dropping his cheek against hers, wishing he could hold her but, instead, clung onto her arm. "It's going to be okay," he whispered.
Taking a tight grip on his arm, Sara inhaled a raged breath. "I'm scared, Gil."
Grissom closed his eyes but was happy she'd admitted that. "I know," he replied tenderly. "But we will get through this."
Feeling the grip on his arm tighten, Grissom then heard his son.
"Mommy sad?" Michael asked unsurely.
Kissing his wife on the cheek, Grissom wiped away Sara's tears and straightened out.
"I'm just…a little emotional, baby," Sara admitted.
"Because you're sick?" he asked.
Sara took his hand again and played with his fingers. "Yes," she replied because that was just the easiest answer at that point. "But…I'll get better."
"And then you happy again?"
Taking a breath, Sara's eyes flicked to Grissom for a second. "I hope…so, baby. But please remember…I love you very much…and no matter…how long it takes…for me to get…better…that won't change."
"Love Mommy," Michael answered, squeezing her hand.
"Give me a hug?" she asked softly.
Michael looked at his father and Grissom reached out his arms, sucking in the burn in his gut when he lifted Michael from the chair to rest him on the edge of the bed.
"Don't forget," Grissom guided. "Nice and gentle."
And he was just. In fact Sara was surprised how gentle her son was and, although he held her tightly, put very little pressure upon her body. She wasn't entirely sure how he managed it but didn't see Grissom gripping Michael's waistband to hold him back a little.
"Sorry to break this up."
Grissom looked up to see Maggie smiling at the sight before her.
"But we'll need to move Sara shortly. Orderlies are on their way."
Breathing in deeply, Grissom nodded. "Okay," he answered, rubbing Michael's arm. "Come on, let Mommy go. It's time for her operation."
Doing as he was told, Michael released his mother and Grissom helped him back onto the chair for a second.
"You…might as well…leave me to it," Sara said.
Grissom frowned at her. "What do you mean?"
Blinking drearily, she smiled at him. "I mean…taking Mike down…there isn't…the best plan."
Opening his mouth, Grissom paused. He wanted to be with his wife until the very second she vanished through those doors but that moment would be hard enough but even harder with Michael there. He really didn't want to step away now but what else could he do?
A/N: Hope the infection isn't too bad… Will surgery work? Dun dun duuuuuuuun :P