Chapter Eight

The sight of Jaime lying pale and still on the table – in the morgue – was too much for Steve to bear. Numbly, he crossed back into the empty office and sank to the floor in deepest grief. He barely heard Rudy's voice, calling urgently to him.

"Steve! Oscar! Call in the chopper! She's alive!"

Steve was by her side in less than a heartbeat. Jaime's skin was deathly pale and her lips an awful shade of near-white but when he looked very closely, Steve could see that she was breathing. Weak and almost imperceptibly, but she was breathing!

"Courtney must have taken her pulse on her right arm – and thought she was dead," Rudy said softly. "So he just left her here. Oscar, how long on that chopper? We need it now!"

"Can she hear us?" Steve wondered aloud.

Rudy shook his head. "No; she's too far gone. She's severely dehydrated and her vital signs are....not good." In the background, they could hear Oscar giving directions to the Medivac team. "Where the hell are they? Rudy snapped.

"They're in the building," Oscar told him. "Is it safe to transport her like this?"

"A lot safer than treating her here," Rudy stated flatly.

"Hold on, Sweetheart," Steve whispered, holding Jaime's hand. "Please...."

- - -

Steve paced anxiously just outside of Jaime's hospital room. Although the ICU wall was clear glass, he couldn't see her through the flurry of medical personnel and activity that surrounded her bed. When the Code Blue had been sounded half an hour earlier, it was all he could do to keep from rushing in, even when Oscar gently reminded him that his interference would only impede the people who were trying so hard to save her.

One by one, the team began to file out until finally Rudy emerged, wearily wiping his brow. "The re-hydration sent her into shock..." he explained. "Her heart stopped. Twice. We got her back, but I'm afraid her condition is extremely critical."

"Can you flush the drugs from her system?" Oscar asked. "Will that help?"

"Actually, they're already long gone. But the overdose sent her into a coma; we may not be able to bring her back. If we can get her stabilized, I'll have a better idea of her prognosis."

Steve watched through the glass as the lone remaining nurse moistened Jaime's lips with a sterile, damp sponge. "Can I do that for her?" he asked quietly?

Rudy opened his mouth to say no – let the nurse do it – then reconsidered. "I don't see why not. Come on." Once inside, he nodded to dismiss the nurse then handed the tiny sponge to Steve. "The goal is not to drip water into her mouth; just wet her lips lightly."

"Thank you," Steve acknowledged, seating himself beside the bed. "Hi, Sweetheart – it's me," he said quietly. "I love you." He dipped the sponge in the cool water, wrung it out and then thought better of it, setting it aside. His lips were moist (but not too wet) just like the sponge, and he leaned in to give Jaime a warm, soft kiss. When he raised his head and sat back in the chair, he was rewarded with the most beautiful sight he could possibly imagine: Jaime opened her eyes.

"Hi there, Gorgeous," he said, brushing a gentle hand across her forehead. "Welcome back." Jaime didn't speak – she was much too weak – but she managed a very slight smile. "Are you in pain?" Steve asked. She shook her head and, as she looked around the room, her eyes grew wide with fear and confusion. "It's alright," Steve told her. "You're safe now." He realized with a start that her last memory was most likely of leaving Rudy's lab and heading toward her car; she probably had no idea where she was or what had happened to her. Before he could even begin to formulate a decent explanation, though, Rudy joined them.

The doctor's smile was almost as broad as Steve's. "Well, hello," he told her, taking her wrist between his forefinger and thumb. "Your pulse is stronger already; I guess Steve's medicine did the trick."

Steve grinned. "Aw shucks, Doc – you helped."

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