Chapter 9

''I'm sorry; could you repeat that?'' Rudy demanded. He'd finally thought to call the ICU and now had the information he'd sought. Had they all lost their collective minds?! ''I need a transfer to National - and I need it NOW,'' he told the cardiologist. ''If you won't take care of that, I'll check out of here AMA and go there myself!''

Within the hour (and at the same time Jaime was being settled in the ICU, Rudy was finally on his way back to 'his' hospital.

''I'll keep her sedated for a few days,'' Michael explained to Steve (who had Mark by his side for support), ''to try and ward off brain swelling. Jaime is stable for now, but swelling could still be fatal. We'll be keeping a close eye.''

Steve nodded...and shook Michael's hand. ''Thank you,'' he said simply. Michael's previous conduct had not been forgotten - or forgiven - but for the moment this was the man who had saved Jaime's life. ''Can I see her now?''

''Soon,'' Michael promised. ''They're still getting her settled into the ICU. You could move the baby back down there from the third floor to make things easier,'' he suggested. At Steve's questioning glance, he went on. ''Yes, I know she's here; I won't bother her. My concern is with my patient now.''

Steve didn't know whether to believe him or not. While Michael retired to his makeshift office, Steve headed up to the third floor - and his daughter - with Mark by his side. There was already a second nursery set up in the ICU unit where Becca had spent the first weeks of her life, right next door to the cubicle where Jaime was now being moved...but Steve was torn.

''I just...don't trust him,'' he told Mark.

''Of course you don't,'' Mark acknowledged. ''But whatever his motives, he does have a point. You can't be running back and forth between floors. We could put a few extra guards in nurses' uniforms; whatever you need to feel safe.''

''Our agreement with him said no guards...but he meant no guards watching him, following him around. Michael can't possibly think I'll leave Jaime and Becca unguarded...''

''And even with both of them on the same floor, right next to each other, you can't be in two places at once.''

Yes, Michael had just given Jaime back to him...but it was only under the condition of his own freedom. The uppermost thought in Steve's mind as he carried his daughter downstairs was If he hurts Jaime again - or if he so much as touches Becca - I swear to God I'll kill him...! Then Steve had to wonder...given what Michael had just done, what did his own murderous thoughts say about him...? He crushed them down, swallowed them, forced them away as he placed Becca in the glass cubicle's waiting crib and moved next door where he could finally sit with his wife. Mark followed behind at a respectful (but still vigilant) distance. Steve would need to sort through at least some of his anger, confusion and fear on his own for now (while he sat at Jaime's bedside), but the therapist would remain right there - ready and available when needed.

Jaime looked like a china doll, fragile, with death-white skin that was nearly translucent. Steve was almost afraid to touch her. Jaime's hand was limp when he took it in his own. There were so many memories, painful now but still with the ability to make him smile.

The kindergartner in pigtails and how he'd stepped in to protect her from bullies, when it'd turned out she was feisty enough to deal with them on her own. He prayed that she still had some of that same fight (and stubbornness) left within her.

The skinny 'beanpole' of a freshman who had batted tennis balls with him - and made the already-full Varsity team. Did Jaime still have that strength and determination; was she still that feisty? She had to be!

The look in her eyes when they'd fallen in love. How would Jaime feel if she found out her life had been - and for awhile, would continue to be - in Michael's hands...?

''Oscar, what the Holy Hell have you done?'' Rudy fumed indignantly. He sank into a chair and Oscar could see that his friend was alarmingly weak, but he swore he could almost see smoke coming from Rudy's ears. He'd been warned that the doctor was on his way...still, for some reason, he hadn't quite expected this.

''There was no other choice but to -'' Oscar began.

Rudy was having none of it! ''Michael Marchetti - in my hospital?! How could you even entertain the thought?''

''I requested him,'' Corinth explained from the corner (where he'd been briefing Oscar). ''Jaime needed him; she still does. If you take a look at her initial tests and admission report -''

''Oh believe me - I will! Even if I could set aside the tiny little fact that he could've killed me, the other five counts of Attempted Murder he was in prison for, not to mention that library of felonies - violent felonies, I might remind you - were because of what he did to Jaime! What's to stop him from disguising another attempt as 'therapy'...and finishing the job?''

Steve had been dozing lightly in the chair beside the bed, for the very first time since Jaime had been shot - but Michael's presence in the cubicle brought him instantly back to full alertness. As much as it turned his stomach to see Jaime's rapist with his hands on her, Steve moved to a seat on the other side of the room to allow Marchetti full access. He might not recognize if a medical touch turned ominous and threatening...but Mark would. Steve hoped that their mere presence would help keep Jaime safe.

He needn't have worried. He could see that Michael's touch was carefully gentle. He performed the necessary checks of Jaime's vital signs, her incisions and her monitors, made some notes and then left the cubicle. When Michael returned to his makeshift office...Rudy was waiting for him.

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