Chapter 4

Dr. Keki got the next confirmation two hours later.
Steve needed to cough again, mucus blocking his airway once more. He was struggling another time to bring it out. He was panicking when it didn't work which made it even worse. Danny and the night nurse were by his side guiding him, talking to him, reassuring him, touching him, making sure he knew he wasn't alone and could do it.
When the thick mucus-ridden block finally came out, the SEAL desperately gasped for air. But it also triggered a flashback: The water that was suffocating him just seconds ago was gone. It wasn't poured over him anymore and he had just expelled what had reached his lungs. It was still hard to breathe – it even hurt doing so – but the pressure from the hands holding him had lessened and his own hands were free now. He didn't know why or since when and he didn't care, he just knew it was now or never.
He lashed out, hitting the nurse's arm in the process. She had tried to put the oxygen mask back over his face and - due to his exhaustion and respiratory distress - hadn't expected his outburst. The hit wasn't really aimed and thankfully, for the nurse, Steve hadn't enough strength to do much damage, but it had hurt nonetheless and would cause a bruise for sure. The short cry of pain and surprise she had let out was another motivation for the SEAL to continue his fight. He lashed out a few more times, but his vision was blurry and he couldn't really see any of his enemies.
Then his arms got pinned down again.
'No. No. I need to get out,' he thought and in a last desperate attempt he tried to free himself, but the hands holding him were too strong.
He knew he was done and that he would pay for what he had tried, but he just couldn't fight anymore. His head was killing him, he still couldn't breathe right and his whole body hurt.
He gave up resistance, tried to calm himself and prepare to what was about to come, but also wishing to pass out during his punishment.
His vision hadn't improved very much and he jerked when someone touched his head and placed something over his face.
'No. Please no bag. I need to breathe.' The words were in his head, but he had also verbalized the thought without knowing it. Though it was incoherent, Danny knew exactly what was going on in his friend. He continued to talk to him, squeezed his hand and/or rubbing his arm or leg.
After a few minutes Steve realized that it wasn't neither a bag nor a sack over his face. He actually felt that breathing was getting easier. The panic he had felt when he had thought about something was placed over his head to suffocate him slowly subsided. And suddenly, he was able to feel and hear things around him again.
Someone was talking to him – had all the time he remembered - but now that the panic was gone, he realized that it was a soft and reassuring tone, the voice even sounded familiar and although he couldn't quite pinpoint it, he associated it with comfort and safety.
He tried to relax and with that he also felt that the hands weren't holding him down anymore. It was a gentle touch – a slight squeezing and rubbing – kind of caressing.
Although he couldn't quite believe it and still couldn't recognize any of the people around him, his heart and mind was filled with hope again. Could it be true?
"Danny?" he croaked.
Danny smiled in relief, tears were forming in his eyes, he finally got through to his friend.
"Yes, babe. It's me. You are safe. You hear me? We found you. You are in a hospital."
"N…no dream?"
"No, no. It's not. Feel this?" He gave another squeeze to Steve's hand.
"...Yeah," came the hesitant answer.
"It's real Steve." Danny reassured once more.
"...Head…hurts…bad," Steve mumbled.
"I know. You just had put up a great fight against us – that worsened it, but you are already getting pain medication to manage it. Just try to relax."
"'m s'rry. Steve slurred, barely audible. Then his eyes closed and he was out.

The next one and a half days were hard on both men. Steve had to bring up thick mucus a few more times. It was hard work for him every time. All the coughing, gagging and retching made his chest hurt, his throat sore and aggravated his headache.
After what Dr. Keki had seen the first night, she had allowed Danny to stay.

He got relieved by the team members for a few hours during the days, but the rest of the time he was by his friend's side, watching helplessly when the SEAL struggled so hard.
All he could do was to encourage him during and comfort him after the ordeal.
Steve's fever was spiking every time this happened, one time it almost over 105°F, but thankfully, it always went down again about an hour later while he was back to a peaceful sleep.
Danny tried to get some rest too, even managed to sleep a few hours, but a part of him was always listening to any noise that might come from the SEAL's bed indicating any distress.
Like Dr. Malloy had predicted, Steve was also extremely thirsty. It was the second reason that woke him up every other hour. His mouth was dry, his throat sore and he felt like he was dying of thirst.
He always groaned before waking up, followed by a small and weak cough.
And that was a good thing. That way someone would notice he was about to wake up and could help him.
They had put the water into his reach, so he was able to get and drink it on his own, but the staff as well as Danny needed to remind him to drink slowly from time to time to prevent him from getting the fluid into the wrong pipe.
Steve knew that, but firstly, he was still confused and disoriented when waking up and forgot about it and secondly, his tongue felt so thick like it wasn't fitting in his mouth anymore. Everything was dry and uncomfortable and he just needed all the water to make this go away.

But everything got better.
The mucus got thinner and therefore it was much easier to bring it up and get it out. The fever broke and the thirst just woke him every five to six hours.
He was still confused from time to time, but he also had some clear moments, knowing what had been real and what illusion.
Steve had developed some kind of sleep pattern and Danny took that time to go home, shower and rest, but he still spent ten to twelve hours by his friend's side even when Steve had said he didn't need to do that.
It had been 5 days since Steve had been admitted. Against his usual demeanor of getting fidgety and demanding to get discharged, he stayed quite and still slept a lot.
Yet, the doctors wanted him to sit on the edge of the bed, get up and walk a few steps.
The first try didn't go very well. Steve got very dizzy when he stood on his own two feet and after stabilizing his footing, he got so nauseous that he needed to sit down again. He retched a few times without bringing something up, but it brought his headache back with full force.
As soon as he was lying back on his bed, he turned to his right side and covered his eyes with his arm.

He tried again in the afternoon. It went a little bit better.
He made some progress the following two days – was even up for half an hour before returning to bed and feeling the pain return to his head.
The morning after they had talked about his discharge the following day and which instructions to follow. But in the afternoon, it was put on hold again, because Steve's head hurt so bad, that he couldn't even think about getting out of bed.
He answered questions only with groans or mumbling and was barely coherent. In the end they pushed another dose of pain medication, made the room as dark as possible and ordered another scan.
It came back clear – or better not worse than before. Danny and Steve got reassured by Dr. Keki that a "setback" like this wasn't exactly uncommon with a severe concussion and if it wasn't lasting for days but only for a few hours it wasn't a real problem and wouldn't throw him back in his recovery, so Steve got discharged the next day feeling much better.
On his way out he got a lot of instructions he was supposed to follow for at least the following week.