Chapter Five

The flight to the Base Hospital was fast, but unbearably long for the occupants of the Medivac. When they arrived, Steve was waiting on the tarmac, pacing tensely back and forth and staring at the sky. He got only the briefest look at Jaime as the medics rushed her gurney into the hospital with Rudy close behind. Oscar strode slowly from the chopper, shook Steve's hand and then embraced him.

"It's bad...isn't it?" Steve asked, already sensing the answer.

Oscar nodded grimly as they headed inside. "Heat stroke. She...wasn't breathing when we got to her."

"When Russ called me, I flew right out. How'd you find her? There were dozens of teams out there. Even my eye didn't see anything."

"It was Rudy. Something just led him straight to Jaime," Oscar explained.

Steve stared at the closed emergency room doors, wishing he could be on the other side of them, holding Jaime in his arms, comforting her. "Heat stroke can kill..." he said, very softly, watching through the tiny pane of glass as the team struggled to save Jaime. Oscar had no words; with one hand on Steve's shoulder, he stood with him and waited.

Several of the longest hours of their lives passed before Rudy finally emerged. "She's still critical, but she's stable," he announced. "It was way too close; we almost lost her."

Steve shook Rudy's hand and the anguish that passed between them was almost palpable. "Is she awake?" he asked.

"She's comatose. But at least we were able to lower her body temperature a bit – she's hovering at 103, still too high, but much better. We'll keep her in the ER overnight, since they don't have an ICU, and then transfer her to National first thing in the morning." Rudy answered Steve's next question before he could ask it. "I have to go back in now," he said as the team began filing out, "but I'll let you know as soon as you can see her."

Steve and Oscar watched through the now-open door as Rudy returned to Jaime's side. Wearily, he sank into a chair and, his physician's duties fully performed for the moment, simply held her hand. Steve couldn't help noticing a new vibe: as much as he was a dutiful and competent doctor, right now as he hovered close to Jaime, Rudy looked for all the world like a loving, concerned father.

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By the time Jaime was settled into her bed at National, her fever had dropped to just below 102. Rudy hadn't slept in more than 36 hours, but like Steve he was unable to leave Jaime's side. Steve watched as he tenderly mopped Jaime's forehead with a cool, damp cloth and moistened her dry, parched lips; although he wondered about Rudy's kiss to her forehead, he didn't bring it up.

"Doc, you look exhausted," Steve ventured. "I'm sure the nurses could do that – or I could – so you can rest awhile -"

"I'd rather stay here," Rudy insisted. "Just in case she needs me." His tone, although gentle, left no room for argument. By early evening, Jaime's temperature was 101 and when Oscar returned to check on her condition he found Rudy and Steve still at her bedside. Jaime had begun moving – just slightly – seeming to respond to a gentle touch and the presence of her loved ones.

"She's doing well," Rudy said as the three men met in the hallway to talk. "She's trying to come out of it."

"Is she in pain?" Oscar wondered.

"From the wound in her side, probably," Rudy explained, "but once she's awake I can medicate her for that and make sure she stays comfortable." While the doctor returned to Jaime's side, Steve and Oscar had coffee and watched from their chairs in the hallway as Rudy fussed lovingly over Jaime, kissing her cheek and later her forehead in a very sweet, paternal fashion.

Steve could see that Oscar didn't share his surprise, and finally he had to ask. "Is something going on that I don't know about...?" He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something had definitely changed.

Oscar smiled vaguely at the heartwarming scene. "I imagine Rudy will tell us, soon enough."

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