Chapter 12
Steve brushed the hair from Jaime's eyes with a tender touch and nodded; he understood (although her message confused him deeply).
''Jaime, can you blink your eyes for me?'' Corinth requested again. This time, she complied. ''Good. Now, squeeze Steve's hand...? Very good. I want you to blink if you know who I am.'' Jaime tore her gaze away from Steve, looked at the doctor...and blinked. ''Do you know where you are?'' Another blink. He held his index finger in front of her eyes and requested she focus on it and then follow it from side to side. Her reactions were slow...but there. It was enough for now. ''I'm going to give you something to help you rest,'' he told her, injecting the sedative into her IV line. Within minutes, Jaime was deeply asleep.
Steve motioned Oscar into the hallway and quickly filled him in on what Jaime had signaled to him. It was a mistake - it had to be - but they had no choice except to discuss it. An urgent, hurried meeting was arranged in Rudy's office (temporarily Oscar's) between Corinth, Mark Conrad, Steve and Oscar. Two guards (still disguised as interns although they were fooling no one) and an ICU nurse remained with Jaime. Because of what Jaime might or might not have been trying to tell them, Russ was sent on an errand to look into the possibility of Michael having paid someone to shoot her.
''We have to bear in mind that she's severely head-injured,'' Corinth offered, once Steve had filled everyone in. ''Michael's reconstruction aside, we don't know just how her brain functions - and specifically her memory - may have been affected.''
''There's just no way,'' Oscar thought out loud. ''Russ? No possible way in hell...''
''We have to look into it though,'' Steve pointed out quietly. ''You know that.''
''Of course we do,'' Oscar agreed. ''But maybe Jaime was trying to tell us something else; she had to be! When Michael does his cell regeneration, will it make her verbal again?''
''The hope was that she'd wake up verbal...today,'' Corinth explained. ''Perhaps when we wake her again later, after I check her over, we can give her a few minutes alone with Steve; she might or might not be able to tell him something...''
With Steve and Mark temporarily gone from Jaime's cubicle (and thus unable to see what he was doing), Michael stopped on the way to check out his patient...and stepped into the nursery. He felt the eyes of the 'interns' and nurses upon him but as a full-fledged (albeit temporary) physician at the facility, he was still within his rights. The 'interns' moved quietly to either side of the door, to stop him if he tried to remove the infant...but he merely wanted (needed) a closer look.
Becca took his breath away. Michael couldn't keep himself from reaching into the crib, gently scooping her into his arms and holding her close...just for a moment. Before anyone interceded, he returned the baby to her crib and took a step back to show he had no wrong intentions. He had just stepped out of the nursery/cubicle's doorway when Steve rounded the corner.
He was on Michael faster than anyone could blink, grabbing the doctor's collar and pulling him to the other side of the hallway, away from the nursery. ''Stay. Away. From. MY daughter!'' Steve growled through clenched teeth. He drew his fist back...and Mark spotted him and caught his arm just in time, pulling him away from the surgeon.
''He's not worth prison,'' Mark whispered in Steve's ear, ''and Jaime needs him.''
Steve shook him off...and glared threateningly at Michael. ''You're here to treat Jaime...and I'm grateful for that,'' he snarled. ''But if you go near my daughter again, I'll be the one in prison...for murder.''
Michael had already turned his back and headed into Jaime's cubicle. Steve caught up to him...just as Jaime unexpectedly opened her eyes. ''Steve...?'' she moaned plaintively.
''I'm right here, Sweetheart,'' Steve told her, rushing to take her hand and leaning over her so his face was the one in her line of vision while Michael hurriedly left the cubicle.
It was too late; she had seen him. Frightened tears burned on her cheeks as she struggled to find the words. ''Dreaming...?'' she asked, finally. ''Michael...he's not...here...is he?''
Mark stepped up to the other side of the bed. ''Jaime, do you know why you're here?'' he began. ''Do you remember what happened to you?''
''Shot...'' she whispered in a hoarse voice.
''That's right,'' Mark confirmed. ''Michael was brought here to help you, and -''
''Nooo...''
''Sweetheart,'' Steve soothed as she began to flail about in panic, ''you're alright. You're safe.''
''No...I...please no...don't let him...please...'' She closed her eyes in inconsolable terror as Corinth hurried in. He'd been summoned by Michael - and by the readings on the remote monitor. He took one look at his patient and rushed to sedate her. Jaime's vital signs were jumping erratically. Steve held her hand and gently caressed her cheek as the drug took effect. ''Keep...him...away...'' she pleaded as her eyelids fluttered closed.
They'd never gotten a chance to ask her about the shooter...