Chapter 30: Step by Step

Sam's "memory session" with G was over for now. Callen just couldn't stay awake any longer.

But less than thirty minutes after he had dosed off, Callen suddenly let out a gasp and his eyes opened with a start. He stared straight up at the ceiling for a few seconds, as if trying to figure out where he was. Calm washed over him and he swallowed hard. G slowly turned his head to the right, finding his partner patiently watching him from the couch. "How long was I out?" G asked hoarsely.

"Not long." Sam stood up and stretched his arms above his head. "A few minutes."

"You promised you wouldn't let me sleep."

Sam walked over to the bed and looked down at his friend. "No. I promised that while you were taking this new medicine, I wouldn't let anything bad happen."

Callen's semi irritated expression changed to a grimace. "This bed is killing me." He tried unsuccessfully pull himself up toward the headboard.

"Here," Sam said while pressing the button that lowered the head of the bed. "This'll make it easier."

With the bed close to being in a flattened position, G was able to slowly scoot himself higher in the bed.

Sam had just elevated the head of the bed when Nurse Anna returned with the new IV solution. "Back again," she announced cheerfully. She changed out the IV medication, reset the IV machine, and checked Callen's vital signs. Just before exiting the room, she turned toward Sam and Callen. "Oh. Dr. Lee wanted me to let you know he'd be here tomorrow afternoon after the office closes. But we have instructions to call him on his cell if anything changes in the meantime."

Sam nodded politely while Callen just looked off into space.

Over the next few hours, Sam answered more of G's questions, filling in more of his memory gaps concerning why there had been an attempt on his life the previous week, and bringing him up to speed on their current cases. Even though much of the information seemed to be sticking, Sam knew he would have to address some of the same questions again. He just wanted to keep his partner engaged in conversation, keep him thinking. Hopefully more and more information would find its way into G's long-term memory.

Every so often, Callen would take a moment or two to deal with a wave of pain, or would just become too tired to talk. A few times, he drifted off to sleep, each time waking up a little less worried about what might have transpired while he was out.

The nurse made several visits throughout the night, making sure Callen was consuming plenty of liquids, administering the 1:00 a.m. medication, and taking care of whatever her patient needed, giving Sam an opportunity to take an occasional break.

When Kensi arrived at 5:50 Monday morning, she stood outside the hospital room a moment, amused by the light-hearted disagreement between Sam and Callen on whether SEAL training or street experience was more valuable to a Field Agent.

"Good. You're here," Sam grumbled when Kensi stepped into the room. "I was this close," he held up his right hand, measuring off a couple of inches between his index finger and thumb, "to choking him with that IV tube."

"You wouldn't," G said, pretending to be offended.

"Watch me." Sam took one long step toward the bed, stopping abruptly when G actually flinched.

An apologetic look flashed across Sam's features, as one of embarrassment flashed across Callen's.

Kensi bit down on her bottom lip. Clearly, Callen's lingering vulnerability had caught them all off guard. "Hey, you two," she spoke up in an effort to dilute the awkwardness that had filled the room. "Do I need to call Hetty? Tell her that you boys aren't getting along?"

Sam let his shoulders sag. "Nah. We're good."

G gave his partner a half-smile.

"Well." Kensi folded her arms across her chest. "You need to get going if you're still planning on getting in a run. Anything I need to know before I take over here?"

"They still want us to push fluids. Let the nurses know if he needs more water or juice. He gets his medicine again at o-seven-hundred." Sam warned G with a look. "Make sure he takes it."

Callen pressed his lips together and turned his face toward the window, letting out a small 'here we go again' sigh.

"The nurses' weekend schedule is about to end," Sam continued. "Monica comes on duty at 7:00."

Kensi nodded. "Monica's the nurse who met us at the door when we brought him in?"

"That's her. And Physical Therapy should be by to get him up in a chair. Not sure what time."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah." Sam reached down and gently clasped Callen's shoulder. "Whatever you do, don't let G talk you into helping him escape."

Callen glared at Sam.

"Gotcha," Kensi responded with a grin.

Still looking down at his partner, Sam's features softened. "See ya sometime this afternoon." He squeezed Callen's shoulder just a little more firmly before releasing his hold and turning toward the door.

"Bring me some clothes when you come back," Callen ordered.

"Not happening," Sam responded on his way out.

Callen lifted his head up from the pillow. "I'm serious!"

"So am I!" Sam called back as the door closed behind him.

The bridge of Callen's nose crinkled due to the pain he had triggered by raising his voice at Sam. His head dropped back down to the pillow and his hand immediately went to his sore ribs.

While giving him a moment to regain his composure, Kensi noticed how tired her Senior Agent appeared. She was fairly certain that his recent banter with his partner was mostly for show; to prove to Sam that he was alright – strong enough to go home. But Callen's pale skin, the purple shadows under his droopy eyes, and his labored breathing, were giving him away. Callen was exhausted.

This exhaustion may have worked out to the nurse's advantage because, not too much later, Anna and an aide came for his morning care. The way Callen looked when Kensi headed for the waiting area, he was too tired to protest.

When Kensi saw Anna and the Aide leave the hospital room, she made her way back down the hall.

G gazed lazily up at Kensi when she entered the room, then down to the packaged snack cake she was holding in her hand.

"Ding Dong?" She offered, holding the chocolate treat out toward him.

Callen smiled tiredly, gave a faint negative head shake, turned his head back to midline, and closed his eyes.

His catnap was interrupted minutes later by a knock on the door.

"Hi. I'm Monica," the Nurse greeted as she entered the room. She acknowledged Kensi and then placed a small medicine cup on the table. As she approached the bedside, she noted a bit of apprehension in her patient's eyes. "You probably don't remember me, but I was your admitting nurse when you came in through the ER. How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," Callen answered softly, seemingly becoming more comfortable with the presence of a new face.

"Well, you certainly look like you feel better than you did the other day. I just reviewed your chart with Anna. You've had a rough go of it while you've been here." The nurse poured a cup of water. "I brought your morning medication."

When Monica approached the bed with the medicine and the cup of water, Callen reached up for the medicine cup.

"Sorry," Monica said kindly. "I have to do this."

G complied, taking the capsules one-at-a-time, washing each down with a drink of cold water.

Breakfast arrived not long after Monica had left Callen's room. Kensi wheeled the portable table over to the hospital bed, lowered the rail, and placed the food tray in front of Callen. She removed all the food covers to find a bowl of plain oatmeal, two pieces of dry wheat toast, and a cup that contained something that resembled fruit cocktail.

Callen frowned at the tray, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

Kensi quickly went to the couch and returned holding out the snack she had bought earlier. "Ding Dong?"

Callen smiled. His soft chuckle warmed Kensi's heart.

Still smiling, G shook his head negatively. "No, thanks." His face became more serious while he surveyed the contents of the tray once more. He moved the tray just a little closer and picked up the plastic fork. "I'll just have the mystery fruit."

Kensi knew that this small cup of fruit was not enough food for a grown man. But at least Callen was taking the initiative to eat something.

Kensi sat down at the far end of the couch and began flipping through the pages of a surfing magazine that her partner had left behind. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Callen was struggling to pick up the fruit pieces with his fork. Having to eat with his non-dominant hand, while keeping the IV tubing out of the way, was not working in his favor. But there was something else not right. Several times, Callen had completely missed the little bowl while attempting to stab a piece of fruit.

A couple of minutes later, Callen opened his eyes wide, blinking slowly, seemingly in an attempt to focus his eyes.

Double vision, Kensi thought to herself. Side effect of the medicine. Information he probably doesn't really need right now.

Breakfast was suddenly over for Callen when his hand bumped his glass of orange juice, knocking it over on his tray.

Kensi scooted the table away and raised the bed rail. "Do you want me to get you some more orange juice?" she asked.

Callen snapped out of his frustrated trance and looked up at her. "No, thanks. I think they spiked it with something anyway."

An hour later, when Kensi gave Callen some apple juice, he had no trouble pinpointing where the container and straw were; the blurred vision seemed to be resolved for now.

At 9:00, a tall, thin, but well-toned man in his early thirties, and a petite female, both dressed in black scrubs, entered the room. Monica followed close behind.

"Mr. Carter?" the young man inquired, first glancing at both of Callen's wrists and then confirming the information on the paper the young lady was holding when Callen did not respond immediately.

G quirked an eyebrow at Kensi.

Even though some of the staff knew his identity, Kensi knew the alias was still in the hospital database as a security measure. She reassured G with a nod.

"Yes?" Callen replied hesitantly.

Monica took a closer look at Callen's arms. "We must have lost an armband somewhere along the way."

The young man handed the paper back to his co-worker. "We're from Physical Therapy. Dr. Lee put in orders for us to get you up in a chair this morning. I'm H. This is Della. She'll be assisting us. I've asked your nurse to stay close by since this is our first time to get you up."

"Excuse me," Kensi broke in. "Did you say your name is H, as in just the letter 'H'?"

"Afraid so," the Therapist answered.

Callen and Kensi exchanged amused glances.

"You see, my maternal grandfather was named 'Harry'" the young man explained. "And my fraternal grandfather was 'Henry.' My parents couldn't decide between the two, so they blessed me with the name 'H Norman Cunningham.' H just seemed to me to be the better option."

Struggling to hold back a smile, Kensi nodded in agreement.

"I get asked about my name a lot. Della here, has probably heard that story, what… a thousand times?"

The young lady grinned. "At least."

H began scanning the room. "Let's see." He moved some pillows and sheets from an empty arm chair that was sitting across from the couch, and placed them on the portable table. "I think we should move this chair closer to the bed so you won't have as far to go." He pushed back the little table that sat next to the bed, and slid the chair between the bed and the couch.

Meanwhile, the nurse had disconnected the IV tube, and used paper tape to secure the short tubing still inserted in Callen's left hand. Then she and Kensi stepped back out of the way.

H lowered the side rail. He slowly pulled down the covers to find the patient was wearing pajama pants, but no socks. "Anything we can put on his feet?"

Monica went into the closet, dug around in one of the bags Hetty had brought, and came out with a pair of white, ankle-high socks. "I found these. I can go to the supply room and get something that's skid-proof if you'd like."

"No. Those are fine. We won't let him slip. Just thought it'd be better if his bare feet weren't on this cold tile."

Della took the socks from the nurse and put them on Callen's feet.

The Physical Therapist and the Tech assisted the patient in scooting to the edge of the mattress, and then carefully sat him up, swinging his legs around so that they were dangling off the side of the bed.

Callen's head drooped forward a little.

"You okay?" the Therapist asked.

Callen nodded 'yes.'

"Just sit there a minute. Let me know when you're ready to stand."

After a little while, Callen nodded again.

Della held out a wide web belt that she had been wearing around her waist. "Do you need the gait belt, H?"

The Therapist eyed the patient while he thought for a moment. "I don't think we'll use a gait belt with him. He has some broken ribs."

Della laid the belt to the side and then took her position beside the chair.

H bent his knees, squatting down so that his was just below eye-level with Callen. "Can you put your hands on my shoulders?"

Callen complied.

"Here we go." With his hands on Callen's waist, the Therapist helped Callen scoot off the side of the bed and held him in a standing position.

Callen stood with slumped shoulders, attempting to gain control of his breathing.

"Let's stay right here for a minute – let you get your bearings," H instructed.

Thirty seconds later, Callen lifted his head and shoulders so that he was standing straight, almost face-to-face with the Therapist. "I want to walk." Callen stated weakly.

The Therapist smiled at Callen's eagerness. "Don't think you're quite ready for that. Dr. Lee has you 'weight bearing as tolerated' so maybe we can let you try taking a step or two to the chair. Della will slide the chair closer if needed."

Callen didn't look too happy with the answer, but had no choice but to accept the offer. He gave the therapist a reluctant nod.

"When you're ready to try taking a step, just keep your hands on my shoulders and use me to take as much weight off your right leg as you need to."

H had no sooner finished the sentence when Callen shifted all his weight to his left leg and took a short, quick step with his right.

"That's it," the Therapist encouraged.

It took Callen three more steps to reach the chair, stopping a moment each time after he had put weight on right leg. Della and H helped him turn and carefully lowered him into the chair.

Callen let out a shaky breath. He wiped the moisture from his forehead, his fingers barely missing the small strips of tape on his head wound. He looked tired, but obviously relieved to be out of the bed.

While the nurse checked Callen's blood pressure, the Physical Therapist squatted down in front of him, resting a hand on each of Callen's knees. "We'll be back in thirty to forty-five minutes to help you back to bed. If you need us to come before then, press the call light and ask them to page me."

Callen's small nod was hardly detected.

"I'll have to admit, Mr. Carter, I'm totally surprised at how well you did." H rose to his feet, and he and Della left the room.

Nurse Monica quickly changed the linens on the hospital bed. After turning down the covers and fluffing the pillow, she turned to the patient. "Do you need anything before I go?"

"Some water," Callen requested softly.

Monica poured a fresh cup of ice water and handed it to the patient.

"Thank you," he whispered as his tired blue eyes looked up at her briefly and then lowered again.

"No problem." On her way to the door, Monica made eye contact with Kensi. "Call me if he gets lightheaded, or if the pain gets too bad."

A few minutes later, Kensi took the half-empty water cup from her Senior Agent's hand. And a mere thirty seconds later, he had drifted off into a light sleep.

When Kensi sat down on the couch beside Callen's chair, she realized she had a smile on her face. Callen wasn't ready to run a marathon; he wasn't even able to walk from the bed to the door on his own. But today he had taken four steps. That was huge.