Christian was roused from his light slumber by a knock on his door. He turned over in bed, blinking back his sluggishness and turning his head in the direction of the sound. Stealing a glance over at the clock near his bed, he realized that it was one o' clock in the morning. Suddenly, he was wide awake. His brows furrowed inquisitively. One in the morning! Who the hell would wake him up at one in the morning? Unless of course it was an emergency, in which case, they better have a damn good reason.
He let out a long yawn as he pushed himself up to a seated position. Pulling back the covers, he slipped out of bed and trudged barefoot towards the door, clad in a pair of black boxer shorts and a matching black wifebeater. A weary sigh escaped him as he reached the door. Upon opening the door, Amy's adoptive mother was the last person he expected to see, especially at this hour. The woman stood before him with a troubled look upon her face. A million questions raced through his head. What did she want? How did she even get his address? And why had she decided to come over now? Couldn't it have waited until morning? Before he could open his mouth to speak, Teresa did it herself.
"I'm sorry if I woke you up, but I had to make sure that Amy was okay."
His brows furrowed inquisitively at her choice of words. "She's fine, as far as I know. Why wouldn't she be?"
Teresa sighed softly, a scowl crossing her face. "I had a dream that something had happened to her, and I couldn't go back to sleep until I knew that she was all right." The woman cocked her head to see further into the apartment. "Is she here?"
A scowl came over his own face, his heart constricting in his chest at the thought of his daughter in peril. He stole a glance over his shoulder before bringing his eyes back to hers. "No, I'm sorry but she's not. She has her own apartment now." He might have been a bit spiteful to the woman the last time they'd spoken, but if he were in her position right now, he probably would be doing the same thing.
The woman looked a bit surprised. "You bought her her own apartment? You didn't have to do that."
"Well, I figured a girl her age should at least have her own place by now, and until she gets herself a paying job, I don't mind paying her rent. I'm a plastic surgeon so money isn't much of a problem," he exhaled sharply, his blood boiling at his next thought, "plus after seeing the way her asshole of a father treats her, she needs a safe place to stay."
Teresa scowled once again but nodded her head in regard. A hopeful look filled her eyes. "I know it's late and she's probably asleep, but could you tell me where she is? I would feel better knowing for myself that she's okay."
For a moment, Christian debated whether or not he should tell the woman. He could almost hear his own daughter chewing him out for doing so, especially after she'd wanted so desperately to get away from her mother in the first place. He scowled, a deep sigh escaping him. "Are you sure you want to wake her up at this hour?"
"I need to see her. I won't be able to sleep until I do. You might be her biological father, but I'm still her mother and I still worry about her." She gazed intently at him, her eyes pleading with his. "Could you please tell me where she is?"
Christian's conscience was getting the best of him. This woman didn't want to pick a fight with him. She wasn't demanding that Amy come home. She just wanted to see her daughter. There was no harm in that. His scowl deepened, noticing the way Teresa seemed to be struggling to hold herself together. She looked to be on the verge of tears, but was clearly holding back. He might be digging himself an early grave, but somehow, the words managed to escape him. "She's next door, in apartment twelve A."
Teresa smiled softly, "thank you. I appreciate it, and I'm sorry again for waking you."
He bit down on his bottom lip, sighing wearily. "Don't mention it." He shut the door after the two exchanged good-byes and turned to head back to bed, wondering if telling her where his daughter was had been a mistake. The chances of the woman telling Amy's asshole of a father her location were slim. He could tell that the woman wanted to keep Amy safe just as much as he did, but there was no telling what that prick was capable of. Although he shuddered to think of it, he wouldn't put blackmailing past him. After all, hadn't Amy told him how much of a threat he was to both her and her mother?
Pushing the thought out of his head, he slipped back into bed and settled in, intent on going back to sleep. If he kept thinking about what more could go wrong with his daughter, he'd never be able to get back to sleep. It was hard enough for him to get to sleep the first time, knowing that he was leaving Frank Gellar in Sean's hands for the evening. If that asshole so much as touched a hair on his partner's head, he'd kill him. Well, at least they'd know of the man's whereabouts until he was discharged. It would sure keep him from causing anymore trouble, for his daughter or anyone else.
Christian was just beginning to drift off into a peaceful slumber, when suddenly, another knock sounded at his door. He opened his eyes, his brows furrowing in bewilderment as he turned to look over at the door. What? Again? What was with everyone at this hour? Couldn't they let a man get some sleep? He exhaled sharply, knowing that if he didn't answer it, the person probably wouldn't bother going away until he did. When another knock came, louder than the one before, it simply confirmed his assumptions. So, once again, he left the comfort of his bed and trudged back to the door.
"What now?" He demanded, upon opening the door. However, he froze the moment he laid eyes on what was on the other side of that door. Teresa Gellar stood there, her arm wrapped around a sickly looking Amy. His daughter's feeble body was trembling and appeared to be covered in sweat. Her skin was slightly pale and strands of her hair were matted to her forehead. Suddenly, all sluggishness aside, the only thing in his mind at the moment was his daughter's well being. "Jesus. Amy, what's wrong sweetheart?" He stepped towards his daughter, placing one of his hands on her shoulder and looking intently at her face.
Amy scowled at him. "I d-don't...feel so g-good."
Well, that was evident. She looked as sick as a dog. He scowled deeply, pressing his palm against her forehead, feeling for a fever. "You're burning up."
Teresa looked from her daughter to Christian. "I went to her apartment and once she came to the door, I could tell she was sick. I asked her if she wanted me to take her to the hospital, but she insisted on coming to you, and since I remembered that you were a doctor, I agreed it was the best decision."
"I'm glad you did." Christian stole a glance at Teresa, nodding his head. He focused his attention back on his daughter, wrapping his own arm around her shoulders and immediately leading her inside, her mother following behind. "Come on in sweetheart. It's okay. I'm going to take good care of you."
Amy lifted her chin and looked up at him, "I'm s-sorry if I w-woke you up, but I was already awake and I couldn't g-get to sleep like this. I didn't r-really know what else to do."
"Hey, I'm glad you came to me. Besides, there's not a chance in hell I'd be able to sleep knowing you're in this condition. Now stop worrying about me, and let me worry about you, all right?" She lightly nodded her head. He looked down at her, his brows furrowing in consideration. "Have you taken anything for this?"
She shook her head. "N-no. I r-ran...out of T-Tylenol. That's why...I came here...to you."
Upon noticing that she was wavering as she walked, he paused to scoop her up into his arms, "it's all right, I got you. You're going to be okay," he reassured her in a soothing tone of voice. She rested her head on his shoulder, clinging to him as a feeble child would to their father.
Teresa followed the two into his bedroom, watching fretfully as he gently laid Amy down onto the large bed. "What's wrong with her? Does she have the flu?"
He stole a glance over at the woman. "It's possible. She seems to be exhibiting some signs, but it's hard to say. I'm going to have to examine her first." He brought his eyes back down on his daughter, gazing intently at her. "I need to grab my bag. It'll only take me a minute. Just relax, all right?"
She lightly nodded her head. He left her side for a moment, striding towards his closet and retrieving the black medical bag he kept there. If worse came to worse, the only choice he might have would be to take her to the McNamara/Troy office and care for her there, and although her well being was top priority, he was hesitant about the idea. There was no way he would have his daughter near that asshole, especially not in her condition, but it might be their only option if she really didn't want to go to an emergency room. He returned less than a minute later, setting his bag down on the bed and crawling over to his daughter's side.
He glanced over his shoulder at Amy as he opened up his bag. "How are you doing sweetheart?"
She took in a shaky breath, a soft moan escaping her. "My-my head and...my throat hurt, and I f-feel really nauseous."
He scowled, pulling out a black stethoscope. "Are you having any difficulty breathing?" Turning back to her, he put the tips in his ears before setting the disc down on her chest, listening to her heart and lungs.
Amy nodded her head. "A...l-little. Not that much."
He removed his stethoscope a moment later, placing it behind his neck and sighing softly. "How long have you been sick sweetheart?" He reached back into his bag, pulling out a blood pressure cuff and proceeding to wrap it around her arm.
She shut her eyes, sighing softly. "F-for a f-few hours...maybe."
He nodded his head in regard, continuing his examination. After checking over her blood pressure, he checked her temperature, but he wasn't pleased with the readings he was getting. Taking her wrist in his hand, he gazed down at his watch, checking the rate of her pulse. He stole a glance down at his daughter, who was still fighting off a cold sweat. He scowled deeply.
"How's she doing?" Teresa who had been unusually quiet spoke up, taking a seat at the edge of Christian's bed and looking worriedly at her daughter.
Christian released Amy's wrist and looked over at the woman. "Not so good. She's got a pretty high fever." He reached back into his bag, taking out his pen light and leaning in to shine it into each one of Amy's pupils. "Her pupils are dialated." His brows furrowed in thought. As much as he tried to push the thought out of his head, it was possible that these symptoms might not be viral at all. They could be symptoms of cocaine abuse, but hadn't she told him that she wasn't on coke? Had she lied to him?
Amy blinked at the beam of light and turned her head away, exuding a dry cough. "I'm c-cold."
He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of her voice. A somewhat relieved sigh escaped him. There was no reason for him to be suspicious. She was simply cold. "I'll get you a blanket, just hold on." Amy nodded her head gently. He stole a glance at Teresa, "she's also having chills. I need to bring her fever down, otherwise, she could go into shock. Has she had a flu shot recently?" Leaving his place beside his daughter, he rose from the bed and strode back towards his closet, retrieving a blanket from the bottom shelf and hurrying back over to Amy's side.
"Not that I'm aware of," the woman replied.
After covering Amy up with the blanket and making sure she was snug, he returned to his position on the opposite side of the bed, reaching back into his bag and prepping a syringe to inject into Amy's body.
"Will that bring her fever down?" Teresa inquiried with a furrowed brow.
He watched the solution in the ether bottle fill the syringe. "It should, but with a fever this high, we should probably transport her to an emergency facility, and from there, fluids can be administered through an IV."
"C-Christian?" Amy murmured, reaching her arm out to him, her fingers lightly touching his backside. He turned to look over his shoulder, realizing that his daughter was calling him. Had she not have touched him, he wouldn't have even heard her calling out to him. He leaned in a little closer so he could hear her better. She brought her hand up and touched his shoulder, biting down on her bottom lip as tears began to well up in her eyes, "p-please...d-don't make me g-go to the hospital. P-please, I d-don't...want to g-go. Please."
His heart constricted in his chest seeing the tears in her eyes, as well as hearing the intent sound of her voice. He knew she was scared. He'd picked up on that ever since they'd gotten that paternity test done. He scowled down at her, "sweetheart, if your condition gets any worse, we might not have a choice."
She shook her head, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks as she took in a shallow breath. "Please," she pleaded softly. "I'm scared. P-please...don't m-make m-me go, please."
He sighed softly. "I know, but wouldn't it make things a little easier if I brought you to the McNamara/Troy office? You already know my partner, Sean, and you know me. We'll take good care of you sweetheart." She pursed her lips together, struggling to hold back the tears that continued to stream down her sweaty face. He hesitated before uttering his next words, "you'll be safe there. I promise." He placed a kiss to her heated forehead.
"Listen to him Amy. He's a doctor." Teresa spoke up. "If he says you need to go then you need to go."
Both Amy and Christian turned their heads at the woman's voice. It actually came as a surprise that those choice of words had come from this woman, Amy's adoptive mother. Was she defending his position? Or did she simply want what was best for her daughter? Well, either way, it was still reassuring to hear. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he remained serious. He felt someone tug lightly on his shirt, and realized that it was Amy. He gazed intently down at her.
"Please..." She croaked. "I r-really don't...w-want to go. Isn't there...something y-you can do? Here?"
He scowled, stealing a glance over at his open bag. "That's only as a last resort if this antiviral drug here doesn't succeed in bringing her fever down, but there's a very slim chance of that happening."
Amy turned her head back to Christian, asking in a meek but slurred tone of voice, "I'm not...g-going to...d-die, am I?"
He turned his attention back to his daughter, scowling deeply at the question posed to him as well as the sound of her voice. She was getting considerably worse by the minute. He shook his head. "Not if I can help it." Turning back to the syringe that was still in his hand, he removed the ether bottle from the needle and set it back into the bag. He flicked the top of the syringe, before turning back to Amy, "I'm going to need you to roll over for me."
She looked up suddenly, a whimper escaping her upon seeing the needle in his hand. "N-no...C-Christian, p-please."
"Amy, let him do it. If you don't, then you're not going to feel any better."
Christian stole a glance at Teresa before looking down at Amy. "She's right." Suddenly recalling back to that time at the hospital, he took her hand in his, giving it a squeeze and caressing it with the pad of his thumb. "Look, I know you're scared as hell of one little needle, but the longer we wait, the worse your condition will get. I can't allow that to happen. You mean too much to me. You can get through this, all right? I know you can. You just have to sych yourself up for it." He scowled, giving her hand another squeeze before releasing it and bringing his hand up to brush away a few strands of her hair, which had matted themselves to her forehead. As the seconds ticked by, he was growing more and more worried about the state of her well being.
She bit down on her bottom lip before gently nodding her head. "O-kay. I'll t-try." And with that, she turned over onto her side, her back facing him.
He gave her a reassuring smile. Turning his attention back to the task at hand, he sighed softly, a bit uncomfortable with what he was about to do, considering she was his daughter, but knew he had to be a professional about this. He tugged the waistband on her pajama pants and underwear down a few inches, holding them in place. He wiped the area with an alcohol wipe, but paused in sticking the needle into her hip, "Amy? This is going to sting a little, all right? Just try and relax." When she didn't reply, he simply went on and injected the solution into her hip. She turned her head away as he did so, but a painful whimper still managed to escape her. A few seconds later, he took the needle out of her hip and set the syringe aside for future disposal.
"That's my girl." He reached out and placed one of his hands on her arm, his fingers running up and down it in a gentle caress. "It's over now sweetheart. You can roll over." She went on and did so, wincing in pain as she laid flat against the mattress.
She looked up at him with a forced smile. "Am I...going to be okay?"
He nodded his head. "You seem to have come down with a touch of the flu, but you're going to be fine. You still have to give yourself some time to recover, which means plenty of rest and plenty of fluids." He sighed deeply. "You should probably get some sleep."
She nodded her head in regard. "I'll go..." She struggled to sit up, but it was evident that her strength was lacking. "Back to my...apartment," she stated in the same slurred speech she had been speaking in.
"No, Amy. Maybe you should stay here, so Christian can look after you." Teresa suggested.
Go back to her apartment? In her condition? She had to be crazy. Christian set both his hands on his daughter's shoulders, gently easing her back down. "I don't think that's such a good idea. You shouldn't be walking around in your condition." He stole a glance over at her mother, "your mother is right, it would probably be best if you stayed here tonight. It's better that I keep an eye on you incase something goes wrong."
Amy sighed deeply. "But, where am I...going to sleep?"
"You can have my bed tonight, I'll sleep on the couch." If she had the flu, he knew that he would most likely contract it too if he slept near her.
She shook her head, turning her head away and exuding another cough. "I can't...kick you out of your bed. I told you that...before, and I don't want to make you sick."
He shook his head. "You won't be kicking me out of my bed, and I can always wash the sheets later. Trust me, it'll be fine. Besides, I've already had my flu shot." When he had the reassurance that she was going to stay, he aided her in slipping under the covers of his bed and got her settled in. Once that was done, he returned his equipment to his bag, closed it up and set it aside. He pushed himself up from the bed and approached Teresa, who had risen to her feet as well and was starting slowly towards the door.
The woman stopped and looked up at him expectantly as he approached.
He stole a glance over at a peaceful looking Amy, who, to his allieviation had stopped shivering. "You were right, she does appear to have come down with the flu, but she should be fine in about a week or so. I did give her something to help bring down her fever, so it should already be taking effect. I'll make sure she gets back to her apartment tomorrow morning, but I think having her stay here tonight is the best idea. Don't worry, she's going to be fine."
Teresa nodded her head with an appreciative smile. "Thank you Christian. I really appreciate you taking care of her. I'm happy to see that she's in good hands. It's nice to know that she has someone here who loves and cares for her as much as I do."
The woman's words warmed his heart. He smiled softly, nodding his head in regard, glancing once again over at his daughter. "She means a lot to me. I know I haven't known her quite as long you have, but I love her. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost her."
"I'm so glad you can relate as a parent. It makes me feel better about the whole situation."
"I've...helped my partner in raising his kids over the years, so I guess you could say I've had a bit of experience in that area."
Teresa nodded her head in regard. "Well, I'll leave you my number. Please call me and let me know how she's doing in the morning."
He nodded, leading her into his living room. "Of course." Retrieving a pad of paper and a pen from a drawer in his kitchen, he returned and handed the items over to her. He waited patiently for her to take down her number. Once she had, they exchanged good-byes and he watched her as she exited his apartment.
A weary sigh escaped him as he stepped back into his bedroom. He cautiously approached Amy's bedside, knelting down to her level. Her chest rose and fell in a steady but relaxed manner, and it was then that he realized, she was fast asleep. Placing his hand on top of the hand that was resting across her stomach, he caressed the top of her palm with his index finger. Sean had been right all along. Teresa had seen the way he loved and cared for Amy that night, and she was actually accepting and trusting of him. It might have had more to do with the fact that he was a doctor, and apparently, the only one up at this hour of the night to care for Amy, but he didn't care. Things were beginning to look up. Maybe, just maybe, he could actually form a friendship with this woman.
Even though it had been on account of his daughter's illness, this actually ended up working out better than simply inviting the two of them over for dinner. He scowled down at his daughter, watching her as she slept. Hopefully, as time went on, he could coax her adoptive mother into testifying against Frank Gellar, but he knew that time was of the essence. It wouldn't be long before this asshole began harassing his daughter again. Well, he wouldn't have it. He would bust asses until this man was behind bars once and for all. No matter who he had to step on to get there. Leaning over, he placed a tender kiss to Amy's forehead, which to his relief was warm, but not as heated as it was before. Sighing softly, he cautiously pushed himself away from her bedside.
After retrieving a pillow, some sheets, and a blanket, Christian made his way back into his living room, making a bed out of the couch before stretching his large frame out on it, and settling in to get comfortable. Okay, so it wasn't the most comfy place to be sleeping, but there was no other alternative. Although he had had his flu shot, he knew there was still a possibility that he could catch it from her, depending on the type of flu she had contracted. All that mattered was that he had gotten her stable enough to fall asleep. Besides, she needed the bed rest more than he did at the moment. He shut his eyes, a weary sigh escaping him, determined to finally get some sleep. He'd be fine there for the night. If Amy needed him before he got up to leave for work in a few hours, all she had to do was call out to him and he'd come running.