It was another half-hour after Douglas arrived back at the hospital before there was finally a change. Douglas was trying to distract himself by playing hangman with Arthur but he was so out of it that Arthur had even almost managed to win a round. Carolyn had taken out her laptop to get some work done but had closed it not much later, grumbling about the lack of wifi.
"Family of Martin Crieff?"
The voice jerked Douglas' attention away from the margins of a magazine where he was adding hair to Arthur's doomed hangman. He looked up to see a nondescript, white coat-clad man holding a clipboard, looking down at them.
Douglas stood, "Yes, that's us," he said quickly before Arthur or Carolyn could say anything to the contrary.
"Great. Hello, I'm Martin's doctor, Dr. Rhodes. Martin is stable for now, but the news isn't all good, and I'm going to be completely frank," he began, frowning down at his clipboard, "Martin is still in very serious condition. A few complications from the pneumonia have arisen, including a buildup of fluid in the pleural cavity and possibly a bacterial infection in the bloodstream. Now, we've drained the fluid and have him on a ventilator to assist in breathing, so that shouldn't be too much of a problem. Our main concern right now is the bacteria, however we won't be able to proceed with treatment until the results of the blood culture come back."
Silence reigned for a few moments after he finished speaking, then Arthur piped up, "So, can we see Skip now?"
Douglas nearly smiled at the fact that that seemed to be all Arthur took from the doctor's presence.
Dr. Rhodes remained solemn, "You're welcome to see Martin, but he may not be fully conscious yet. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to Martin's room, there's a waiting area nearer to it that's a little more private."
The incomplete MJN Air crew gathered up their belongings, discarded coffee cups, and repurposed magazines and followed the doctor through the sterile white halls of the hospital. Martin's room was on the second floor of the two-story hospital. The aforementioned "waiting area" was nothing more than a few chairs and a table squeezed in between two vending machines, but Douglas was pleased to find it was right around the corner from Martin's room. Rhodes showed them to the room then excused himself, promising to check up with them again later in the day. When they entered the room, Douglas' eyes were immediately drawn to the figure on the bed. Martin looked especially small and frail in the large hospital bed. He was surrounded by wires and tubes running from his arms, mouth, and nose to the machines around him. Beneath the breathing apparatus on his face, his skin looked more pale than usual, the unhealthy pallor emphasized by the shock of bright hair that spilled slightly onto his forehead. Douglas approached Martin's bedside slowly and reached a hand out to where Martin's hand lay on the bed, only to withdraw it swiftly when he remembered Arthur and Carolyn's presence behind him.
"Go ahead and touch him."
Douglas was startled by the voice. He hadn't realized there was anyone else in the room, but then he hadn't been paying much attention to anything but his captain, so he hadn't seen the nurse on the other side of Martin's bed, where she was adjusting something on the machinery.
"It's ok to touch him," the nurse repeated when Douglas only stared blankly at her, "in fact it's encouraged. Unconscious patients seem to be able to sense the presence of loved ones nearby so physical and verbal reassurances can sometimes help speed up recovery."
"Erm, yes," Douglas coughed awkwardly, "I believe I've heard something similar before."
Arthur sat down in the lone bedside chair and grabbed Martin's right hand, clasping it tightly between his own, "I'm not letting go of Skip until he gets better!" he declared.
Douglas smiled involuntarily.
"We'll take shifts," Carolyn suggested, "one of us will always be here so Martin doesn't wake up alone."
"That's surprisingly maternal of you, Ms. Knapp-Shappey," Douglas said, quirking an eyebrow.
"You know I am actually a mother."
"I suppose that's technically true," Douglas mused, "anyhow, I guess this means we'll need to scavenge a couple more chairs."
Carolyn and Arthur had just left to find the hospital gift shop when Martin began to stir. Douglas sat up in the chair he'd been dozing in for the past two hours.
"Martin?" He said softly.
Martin murmured something inaudible and shifted, but didn't awaken. Douglas could see his eyes moving rapidly under the closed lids, and realized he must be in the throes of a nightmare. Douglas feared attempting to wake Martin could prompt a violent reaction from him and cause further harm to his damaged ribs, so he settled on grasping Martin's hand. Martin immediately seemed to relax with the contact.
"Alright, Martin. You're alright." Douglas stroked his thumb across the back of the captain's pale hand and slowly Martin stopped tossing and settled back into the pillow. After a few minutes of apparent peaceful sleep, Douglas was surprised when Martin's eyes fluttered open
"Martin?"
Martin tightened his grip on Douglas' hand, "Douglas?" His voice was muffled by the oxygen mask. He tried to sit up but quickly stiffened and gasped in pain, free hand shooting to clutch his side.
"Hey, slow down!" Douglas said, alarmed, "You have a few cracked ribs. The less you move, the lower the likelihood of one of them slipping and piercing a vital organ."
Martin grimaced, hand still hovering protectively over his abused ribs.
"Ow," he said.
"You're exceedingly facund as always, sir," Douglas rolled his eyes.
"Douglas, I-" Martin stopped mid-sentence as he noticed for the first time the position of his and his first officer's hands.
Douglas followed his eye-line to the clasped appendages.
"Ah, yes. The nurse suggested we- Carolyn, Arthur, and I- maintain a degree of physical contact with you. To aid in the healing," Douglas explained smoothly.
"Ah- o-of course," Martin reddened slightly.
"I can let go if it's making you uncomfortable," Douglas offered.
"No! I mean- no, it's alright. Quite alright."
"Quite." Douglas smiled.
Alerted to Martin's wakefulness by the machines, the nurse returned and fussed over Martin and the troupe of devices hooked up to him. When she'd finally finished, Martin was about ready to fall asleep again, but Carolyn and Arthur returned only a few moments after the nurse had left.
"Skip! You're awake! Look what we got you!" Arthur bounded across the room and presented Martin with a little stuffed bear holding a heart that said 'Get well soon!'.
Martin smiled sleepily. "Thank you Arthur, it's great."
"How are you feeling?" Carolyn asked.
"Like someone's been jumping up and down on my chest."
"Well you're not far off," Douglas said lightly, but Martin noticed his eyes lacked their usual teasing glimmer. Before Martin could reply, Dr. Rhodes strode in.
"Ah, good, you're all here." The doctor's face was carefully neutral, an expression no doubt perfected by many years of delivering medical news. "The results of the blood culture are in. Negative."
Douglas released an audible sigh, and he could see Carolyn looking similarly relieved. Arthur, however, looked visibly distressed by the doctor's pronouncement.
"Oh Skip!" Arthur cried, tears filling his eyes, he threw himself on Martin before Douglas or Carolyn could react.
"Ow! Arthur!" Martin squeaked.
"Oh no! Sorry!" Arthur exclaimed, quickly withdrawing from his hug.
"Martin!" Douglas said worriedly, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Martin gasped, "ribs just… a little sore.."
"Arthur Shappey, what has gotten into you?" Carolyn demanded.
"'M sorry mum," Arthur sniffled, "I just don't want Skip to die."
"Die- what? Didn't you hear the doctor?" Carolyn said, "The blood test was negative."
Arthur looked blank.
"Arthur, it means there's no bacteria in Martin's blood," Douglas clarified.
Arthur looked bewildered, "What? But I thought negative meant bad."
There was silence in the room for a few moments as they all processed Arthur's words. The silence was broken by Martin giggling. It started out as shallow snickers but quickly escaped Martin's control until he was suffering from a full-blown laughing fit, clutching the stuffed bear to his chest, gasping for breath. Douglas couldn't help but grin at the state of his captain, and soon he was laughing too. It wasn't long before all of MJN Air was laughing hysterically. It took a few minutes and a barbed glare from a passing nurse to get them calmed down enough for Dr. Rhodes to finish updating them on Martin's condition. Without the imminent threat of bacteremia, Martin's situation was looking a whole lot better, and with bed rest and the assistance of a breathing mask for a little while, and assuming no unexpected complications, the doctor expected him to make a full recovery in a matter of weeks.
"What about flying?" Martin asked anxiously, when Rhodes had finished, "When will I be fit to fly?"
"As a pilot, at least a few weeks. As a passenger, you could fly as soon as tomorrow, but I want to monitor you for pneumothorax, or any sign of air leakage into the pleural cavity, before I OK air travel."
Martin groaned aloud, but it was feeble, and Douglas could tell his energy was flagging.
"Alright, doc," Douglas said pointedly "you can give us all the nitty-gritty details later. Now I think it's a bit past poor Martin's bedtime."
Martin shot Douglas a grateful look. Rhodes nodded in understanding and placed Martin's chart back in the pocket at the end of the bed.
"I'll check back in with you tomorrow. Your night doctor will be by sometime soon. Good night," Rhodes excused himself.
"Alright," Carolyn said as soon as he'd left, "I think we all are in need of some well-deserved rest."
"I'll stay here," Douglas said automatically.
"Douglas-" Carolyn began to protest, but Douglas cut her off.
"Don't 'Douglas' me. I'm perfectly content napping in this chair. It's much more comfortable than my chair in GERTI, and I manage to sleep just fine in that…" Arthur frowned at this, and Douglas continued before he could comment, "Now, you and Arthur go back to the hotel and in the morning we can switch places and I'll get some proper rest."
Carolyn floundered for a solid argument against this plan, but finding none, she nodded her reluctant assent, "Alright, fine. We'll be back first thing in the morning. Come along, Arthur."
The two departed, Arthur giving Martin one last cheerful wave on the way out. Martin was keeping awake by sheer stubbornness, but it was a losing battle, his blinks were getting progressively slower.
"Thanks for staying with me, Douglas," he mumbled.
"My motives were purely selfish, I'm afraid. Carolyn only shelled out for two rooms, and I didn't feel like listening to Arthur's snoring all night."
Martin smiled. "Night, Douglas."
Douglas reached over and clasped the captain's hand again. "Night, Martin."