"C'mon," Priestly nearly whined, scooping up the last of the lime green jell-o he'd coaxed out of the night nurse, which was the only thing that actually tasted like it should. Friggin' hospital food.

"I don't know if it's a good idea," Jude said, clearly torn. She'd been letting Mikey talk to him on the phone every morning and every afternoon after school and several times a day on weekends, but Lily was too young. And it was nothing compared to seeing them.

"I miss them," he said quietly, squeezing her hand with his good one. He felt a little guilty adding to her stress. He knew she was having a tough time holding down the fort at the grill. She didn't complain, didn't say a word, but each morning and especially each night when she stopped by to see him, she looked wrecked, and the shadows under her eyes were deep.

"They miss you, too," Jude replied, her eyes filling. Her voice caught as she said, "When I pick her up at Mom's, Lily looks around and goes, 'Dada?'. She looks so confused. It kills me, Priestly. And Mikey asks me every day if Daddy's all better yet so he can come home."

It pierced his heart, just like he knew it pierced hers. The doctor had finally okayed everyone to lose the gloves and masks, and now only the nurses wore scrubs. Priestly pointed that out to her gently, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

She nodded. "I know. It's just you were running a fever last night, and–"

"Just a little one," he protested. "And I'm fine now. So, you know, my mini spleen is probably kicking ass in there with all of Zo's magical mystery potions to help out." When she gave him another conflicted look, he wheedled, "C'mon…just for, you know, like ten minutes tomorrow morning before you go to the grill."

She fought an exasperated smile and pulled her hand out of his. "I better not regret this," she said, rising.

He grinned, but then he sobered, grabbing her arm to pull her down again. "Not so fast. You okay?"

She nodded. Guilt pricked at him again at her haggard look. His voice grew thick with emotion. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Jude," he said, reaching up to stroke her cheek. "I didn't mean for it to end up like this."

She shook her head. "Priestly, if you hadn't…" She trailed off.

"That's not what I mean."

They lapsed into silence, just abiding in each other, thinking their own thoughts for a moment.

Thanks to the news coverage, the whole world knew exactly what Greg Clarkson's plan had been for Missy. Police searched his basement quarters at his folks' place and found marked maps that led them to a friend's fishing cabin at Lake Almanor, roughly five and a half hours northeast of Santa Cruz. Inside the cabin, they'd found 38 disposable phones, a novelty voice changer, a digital recorder onto which a list of various directives and threats had been recorded using the voice changer, a series of drafted ransom notes, a stockpile of gold jewelry, coins, and guns, maps that plotted out a route to Canada, and lime. Lots of lime.

The individual puzzle pieces fit together to show what police called the "highest likelihood scenario": Greg Clarkson intended to extort as much as he could from the Leons and then kill Missy rather than returning her safely as his messages promised he'd do. Then he'd escape to Canada. The disposables led police to several persons of interest, several of whom finally admitted that Greg was going to pay them to, as he put it, run a few simple errands. He'd given each a disposable with instructions to make or take no other calls with them. They had to promise not to call him from any other phone. None of them knew what the errands were, and none had been called to perform any errands yet. They only knew that he'd be calling in the future and they'd agreed to drop whatever they were doing and respond instantly to his requests in exchange for various sums of money. Clarkson had enough lime on the premises to make it abundantly clear that he probably planned to kill each and every one of his runners, too. Clever, because it meant he might actually succeed at vanishing off the face of the planet with a large haul.

Jude absently stroked his arm, and he could tell she was doing the same thing he was…imagining how much differently things could have ended if he hadn't jumped in the bed of the truck. But that didn't mean he didn't still feel bad about some of the fallout.

"We'll get through this, Priestly," she said, knowing his thoughts without him having to say a word. She gave him a weary smile.

"Yeah," he agreed softly, tugging her down for a kiss. She stiffened, clearly worrying about germs, but she relented at the insistent heat of his lips against hers. He felt it, the exact moment when she gave in sighing against his mouth, reclaiming what had been lost to her for the past week. She seemed a little renewed as they parted, some of the weight she carried lifted. "So, I'll see you and the kids tomorrow morning?" he asked.

She gave him a look that was so Jude…full of heat, sass, and tenderness. "Ok," she relented, rising. This time he didn't stop her, though he half wanted to. He missed her, too, though he saw her twice a day and talked on the phone with her several times. He missed her body next to his at night and in the morning. He missed the dozens of little ways they connected each day, cut viciously down to half a dozen at best. He hated that she was looking tired and strained instead of sunny and light. He watched her leave and wished like hell he could follow.

The worst part of all was he felt like a kid at Christmas, unable to sleep from the anticipation of seeing his kids, feeling every minute pass like the slow trudge of an hour. Finally, at just after three a.m., the night nurse convinced him to take half a tablet of sleeping pill, assuring him repeatedly that he would not miss out on seeing his kids.

*%*

The nurse was right. He was out cold for probably three hours before his own excitement forced him back into groggy wakefulness. Knowing it would clear the cobwebs out, he forced himself out of bed and did several laps around the unit before asking the day nurse, who was just arriving for her shift, for a new gown. He wished they'd let him wear the street clothes Jude had brought him. The doctor had said no street clothes until the staples came out, but that would be sometime today. He lamented on it to the nurse, explaining that his wife was going to bring his kids to see him and he wished he wasn't going to be wearing a hospital gown when they came.

"Let me see if Dr. Harvey is making rounds yet. He's usually here pretty early on Fridays, you know, getting things done before going on call for the weekend."

When she had dropped the fresh gown on his bed and had left again, he took it into the little bathroom for a quick shower, careful to check that the dressing was still firmly in place. He covered it with one of the waterproof patches as instructed by the nurses, trying to ignore the itchy feeling that had bothered him off and on for the past two days. Priestly was excited about it though, because itchiness meant healing, and healing meant home.

Time crawled. Crawled. TV held no appeal. Neither did the newspaper or the spy novel Trucker'd brought him the other day. He wandered around the unit until he nearly dropped, glad that the nurse hadn't seen the weird little hitch of his knee as it threatened to collapse under him. Last thing he needed was anyone thinking he wasn't ready to get out and go home.

With a heavy sigh, he gave up and flipped the TV back on, tried to watch the morning news. He couldn't focus. Watching the door did nothing other than frustrate him. It opened and revealed the nurse, the cleaning staff, his breakfast tray, and his doctor, but still no Jude and no kids.

The doctor was a good distraction, though. Priestly nodded at the staffer who came to check on his tray.

"Going home yet?" the young guy asked.

"Ask him," Priestly joked as the doctor carefully pulled off the bandages.

The doctor glanced up at the orderly and smiled. "We'll see," he murmured, palpating the incision with a gloved hand. Priestly winced a little, the area still tender. "It's looking good. I think the staples can come out."

"Does that mean I can put my regular clothes on?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't see why not, as long as you steer clear of anything too binding," the doctor replied absently, already removing the first staple.

"Well, shit," Priestly joked, "Guess I'd better not put on the spandex tiger pants."

The orderly barked out a sharp laugh as he left the room with the empty breakfast tray. Doctor Harvey, of course, did not respond. Though pleasant enough, he was generally all business. Once the last staple came out, he put some antibiotic cream over it and a lighter dressing than before. As always, Priestly was surprised he didn't leave such tasks to the nurses. The guy had come in every day, though, and every day he inspected the incision, changed the dressing, took his temperature, checked out his still healing, suture-free knuckles, and had Priestly go through a series of range-of-motion exercises to check the status of his right elbow and shoulder. One of the nurses had told him with a wry smile that it was less because Dr. Harvey was some great humanitarian and more that he was a perfectionist who thoroughly believed the old adage that said if you wanted something done right, do it yourself.

After the usual run through, Dr. Harvey took a long look through his patient chart, frowning at something he saw there. "I still don't like that low grade temp you ran yesterday," he finally said, gazing over the rims of his glasses, "but if your temperature remains completely normal today, I think it'll be safe to let you go tomorrow."

"Yeah?" he grinned, excitement bubbling up so that he nearly bounced on the bed. He was taken off guard when the guy returned his smile as he rose from the bedside chair he'd pulled closer.

"I'll see you tomorrow," the man said, passing the chart to the nurse as she came in to check on him. "Watch his temperature closely today. Once an hour would be optimal, but no less than once every three. Prep the discharge papers for tomorrow. I'll be in early."

"Yes, doctor," the nurse nodded. Once he'd left the room, she obligingly stuck a thermometer in his mouth, her smile widening as she said, "Normal. And I heard he gave the okay for street clothes," she said, rounding the foot of the bed, "So, I'll just pull this curtain and let you get dressed. Just open it back up when you're done."

He nodded, nearly leaping out of bed.

It was a good thing the doctor had come when he did. Less than five minutes after Priestly finished dressing and sat down in the bedside chair to flip channels again while the housekeeper changed his bedding he heard Jude's voice caution, "Mikey, no running, please," just as a little dark head popped into sight.

"Daddy!" he cried joyously, throwing himself against Priestly's knees and scrambling up before either of them could stop him.

"Careful, bud," Priestly winced a little, blocking the knee that was headed right for his freshly unstapled incision. Then he grabbed Mikey and tucked his face into his son's warm little neck and blew, chuckling as Mikey giggled wildly at the farting noise it made. "Holy crap, I missed you!" Priestly laughed as Mikey tried to do the same to him but failed miserably.

Jude gave him a deadpan look and he winced apologetically at his choice of words. While not truly profane, it wouldn't be great to have Mikey running around crying 'holy crap!' all the time, and he was just at that age where he wanted to parrot everything.

Priestly tilted his face upward and gave Lily a noisy kiss. She immediately whined and reached for him, chanting, "Da, da, da!"

"Mikey, let Lily have a turn with Daddy for a second," Jude said, reaching one hand out for him and with the other, passing Lily to him. Mikey slid down from his lap but stayed close, leaning against his right knee.

After peppering Lily with light kisses that made her squeal and bounce in his arms, he cooed, "Have you been good for Mama, huh?" Looking down at Mikey, he grinned. "What about you, little man? You being a good guy?"

Mikey nodded, his little hands wandering the bandages over his hand. Priestly glanced up at Jude for confirmation, and she nodded. "He has been a very good helper," she agreed.

"When do you get to come home, Daddy?" Mikey asked a little forlornly, and Priestly's heart squeezed in his chest.

"The doctor said maybe tomorrow. Cool, huh?"

Mikey nodded. "Did it hurt?" he asked, still largely focused on the bandage, his little forehead wrinkling somberly.

"Yep. But it's a lot better now," he said lightly, never a believer in lying to kids. That didn't mean he was going to tell Mikey more than he needed to know or describe anything in graphic detail, but if his son asked him a question, he wasn't going to dance around the answer. "Good enough to do this!" he grinned, reaching out and tickling Mikey's belly so he darted back against the bed.

He drank in Lily's sweet, powdery smell, gently stroking the side of her head as she leaned against him drowsily. Like him, she was more of a night owl and hated getting up in the morning, which generally made Jude crazy because she liked to surf with Trucker in the mornings, and Priestly had to sleep in at least a little because of the grill's hours, which meant she was forced to take Lily to Leo's or her mother's place, depending on which one was available. And though Lily liked to sleep, she slept too lightly not to be roused by the movement required to get her to the babysitter's door. For the same reason, Jude couldn't just leave her sleeping with Priestly also sleeping. There was no telling what trouble she could get into if she woke up first.

Far too soon, Jude met his eyes and said slowly, "Mikey, it's time to go to school."

Though normally the kid was agreeable enough, he started to whine and wheedle for a few more minutes. Priestly handed Lily, who was now asleep, back to Jude, trying hard not to wake her. Then he tugged Mikey back onto his lap and wrapped first his good arm around Mikey's front and then a little more slowly brought his still healing arm around to meet the other.

"Hey, bud, you know I love you, right?" he asked.

Mikey nodded.

"You know I'd rather be at home with you and Mom and Lily, right?"

He nodded again, still forlorn.

"I think the doctor might let me come home tomorrow or maybe the day after tomorrow, so it's just a little bit longer, okay?"

Mikey nodded one more time and squeezed Priestly tightly. Priestly pretended to choke, which made Mikey laugh.

"You gotta be more careful, Mikey Bear," he gasped. "You don't know your own strength, kiddo." As he slid down from his lap, Priestly squeezed his shoulder. "I love you," he said huskily, rubbing his head.

"Love you, too, Daddy."

He eased up from the chair and gave Lily's soft blonde hair a light kiss. And then he slid his good arm around Jude and kissed her with more emotion than either of them could handle.

"Thank you," he said simply. "I love you, too, Mama," he teased, trying to lighten the heaviness that had descended on the room. When she stepped back, she was fighting tears, but she was also fighting a smile.

"C'mon, Mikey," she said, forcing cheer into her voice.

Though their short lived visit was disappointing, Priestly understood it. Not only was she just plain short on time, Jude wanted to limit his exposure. He knew she was thinking it was a sort of test, and she was probably right. He just hoped it was a test he would pass, because the short visit was nowhere near enough. He wanted to see them, to play with them, to look over Mikey's homework, to give Lily a bath and rock her to sleep…everything he'd been missing. Even the bad parts, like stinky diapers and the occasional dinnertime struggle to get Mikey to eat something with proper nutritional value.

Still, after taking another walk around the unit, he was able to settle down and read one of the books Trucker had left without the restless anticipation he'd suffered earlier. His last thought as the book dropped to his chest and sleep pulled him under was more of a prayer. Please let everything stay normal so I can go home tomorrow.

A/N: So, even though I am no good at predicting the length of a story, you can believe me or not believe me when I say there are definitely only one or two chapters left. :P