Another chapter up. I'm so happy with the response to the last chapter. Thank you all for the support. To reviewer Mike: Rest assured, I also chuckled as I was writing it. I love that someone has as twisted a sense of humor as I do.
Owen remained vigilant at his post throughout that day and night, having a nurse sedate her so that he could tend to the gash on her temple without scaring her. As he weaved the sutures into her head, he stared at her lovingly, just knowing that once they returned to Seattle, she would be okay. He finished the last suture and cleaned up before making his way back to her bed with supplies to dress the wound. He turned around in the chair to cut a piece of gauze when he caught a movement from the corner of his eye. He shifted his head to see Cristina, sleepy-eyed and reaching for the sky, on the alert for anything threatening. He slowly reached for her hand, cradling it in both of his. "That wore off quickly," he said smiling, rubbing circles below her knuckles. She craned her head to look at him, surprising him. She hadn't done that yet. "How do you feel?" She simply returned her head and looked at the ceiling. He sighed. It was progress, at least.
He sat like that for a while, and she allowed him to. "I need to dress the laceration on your forehead now," he said quietly. She didn't respond, prompting him to continue. He turned again to grab his supplies and began his work. "Your vitals are looking great," he said optimistically. "Your sodium and potassium levels are almost normal, and the urinalysis didn't show anything concerning." He put the finishing touches on the dressing and smoothed her hair back. "Mark did a decent job popping your shoulder back into place. The tendons were strained, but they should heal in due time." She still made no move to respond, but he saw her BP elevate slightly. He stroked her cheek tenderly. "There's nothing to worry about. You'll be back in the O.R. in no time." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Oh, I checked in on-" A squeaky wheel interrupted him, causing him to look toward the doorway. "Meredith," he said, surprised to see her out of bed. "You shouldn't be out of bed." He stood to help her. She was on wobbly legs and leaning against a very unsteady IV stand. "You should…" The look on her face told her not to try and stop her. "I should be leaving now," he said smiling. He walked to the doorway and assisted her into the bed with Cristina.
He ran into Webber in the hallway on his way to check on the others. "Hunt," he greeted.
"How are things? What's the status report?"
Webber sighed. "Ah, well, Arizona's stable enough to go back. Surprisingly, her levels were more promising than the rest. I was told they kept a close eye on her leg while they were out there, and they gave her the last of the water, so it all adds up."
Hunt nodded. "Good, good."
"Derek's sodium levels are a little lower than I'd like, and his arm has a slight infection, but that's nothing an hour-long plane ride would harm." He paused, thinking. "Meredith is still pretty weak. Mostly malnutrition, and her electrolytes are borderline. I'd give it the day. See how she holds up."
"And Mark?"
Webber sighed, staring at the ground. "It's not looking good. They did a damn good job out there keeping him alive. I don't know that I could've done it. Nevertheless, his heart suffered a heavy blow. We think it was largely due to the crash itself, but with multiple pericardiocenteses in an unsanitary environment with a pocket knife and a tube pulled from a spray bottle?" He blew out a guff of air, and shook his head. "It's taking its toll."
Hunt looked down too, thoughtfully. "How are his vitals?"
"As you can imagine, they're not good either. I wouldn't say he's hanging on by a thread, but we're wading in pretty damn muddy waters. He's in surgery now. We should know more by tomorrow morning." He looked at Hunt hesitantly. "Arizona and Derek need their surgeries as soon as we can possibly get them done, so if it comes down to leaving Mark here with one of us until he's stable enough to travel, we need to bite the bullet and do it."
"Let's cross that bridge when we get to it, but I think you're right. I'll go ahead and let them know we're heading out tomorrow night at the latest. If Mark's not stable enough by then, we can assign someone to stay behind until he's ready."
"Sounds like a plan," Webber said. "How's Cristina? I've been meaning to check in, but with the others…"
Hunt waved his hand. "You've had a lot on your plate. I appreciate you taking the load." He pushed his hair back against his head. "Cristina, uh, she's well, more responsive than yesterday. She's still not talking, but she's at least acknowledging my presence." He chuckled. "Her injuries were minor, miraculously. Most of her recovery will be psychological. She's still dealing with the last major trauma in her life, so this one is just adding fuel to the fire."
"Has she had another episode?"
"Yesterday, she had multiple, but I think sleep did her a lot of good. Today? I haven't been with her much today. She just woke up about twenty minutes ago, and she had a brief attack. I think it was just an instinctual response coming right out of a heavy sedation, but I'll keep a close eye on it." He nodded solemnly, trying to be optimistic.
"She's making progress, Hunt. That's more than we expected this early in the game."
"Yeah…yeah." He looked up, remembering what he wanted to ask Webber. "Oh, uh," he pointed his thumb back toward Cristina's room. "Meredith just came by. Do you know…"
Webber snapped his fingers, his face indicating realization. "Yes, that's who I was just out looking for. She wasn't in her room, so I assumed she had hobbled over there."
The men chuckled. "We should probably think about conjoining them," Hunt joked.
"They'd be a lot easier to find that way," Webber remarked.
The two parted ways then, and Hunt went to check on his other staff, feeling guilty that he hadn't already. He pondered Richard's words as he wandered the hallways of Boise Memorial.
She's making progress…that's more than we expected…"
He was right. Cristina was going to be fine. They were all going to be fine.