If Cal had been dreaming, he suddenly couldn't remember what it had been about. He simply became aware. He tried to turn over, but his body was a complete dead weight and his arms wouldn't respond to the command from his brain. He thought he should feel panicked but he felt weird, sluggish, like his body was not his own. He struggled with a bit more effort and tried to pull his eyes open and then he felt hands on his shoulders, firm pressure down. "Cal it's ok," the voice said. Female, as far as Cal could tell but he seemed to be having a hard time hearing too. The voice was slightly garbled, like he was listening underwater.
"What?" He muttered. As in, what's going on, what am I doing there, where is here?
"You're in the hospital," the voice told him.
"Spital," Cal repeated numbly. He didn't know what that meant. He finally opened his eyes to find a blurry face over him, a big pink mass of body. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. What had he been doing? It felt like he had been asleep for an age.
"Just relax," the voice told him. "I'll get the doctor."
The person went away and Cal realised he was lying back against the bed. He could see snippets of clarity as he blinked and strained his eyes to focus. He could make out the thin blanket of his hospital bed, though he seemed hard pressed to name the colour of it. Some sort of green. Then the woman in pink was back and she had a man with her in blue. They both came over quickly and were talking to him. He blinked again, confused, they were using his name but he didn't know them.
"I'm Doctor Rockwell," the man spoke gently. "I've been taking care of you. Do you know where you are?"
"Hospital," Cal muttered. Apparently. But yes, it did look like he was in a hospital. Only, what was he doing here?
"Good," Rockwell noted. He shone a light in Cal's eyes, pulling back his lids. "And your name?"
"Cal." There was a pause and the doctor waited and Cal added: "Lightman."
"Great," the doctor responded. The nurse on the other side of the bed was checking monitors attached to Cal all over, she shifted him to reach properly, lifting his arm (which felt all tingly and weird when she did so), checking his chest, the cuff on his arm; he had an IV line in the crook of his elbow. Cal realised he had no clothes on and was surprised again; and maybe a little awkward. What the hell had happened to him?
"Can you tell me what the date is?"
Cal searched his mind but came up empty. He noticed it ached a little. Or the light was making his head hurt. And he was so very tired. He felt he could close his eyes again and sleep for several hours more. "I've no idea," he murmured. He closed his eyes again on a sigh, but thinking he should be afraid. Logically he should be afraid. Obviously something major had happened. He must be medicated, because this was just weird. Or dreaming. Dreaming would explain a lot. If he closed his eyes, relaxed and concentrated, he'd probably wake up.
"That's ok. You've been here for a while. But I want you to know you're doing just fine."
Oh well that was reassuring.
"What happened?" Cal asked softly.
The nurse was back, manhandling him again, moving his arms, slipping something cool over his skin. It took Cal a few long seconds to realise it was clothing. A shirt or something. Cal roved lazy eyes to check. Hospital gown.
"You had an accident and hit your head."
Oh so that was why his head was...
"Are you in any pain?"
"Uh," Cal thought. "My head."
"That's probably to be expected. I can give you something to help."
Cal was about to protest but he didn't react fast enough and soon he felt a new kind of haziness settle over him. Definitely a chemical induced kind of fogginess.
"Your wife," the doctor went on and Cal pried his eyes open again. He gave a frown. He hadn't been listening. What about his wife? But it was too hard to focus and so Cal gave into the need to rest his consciousness. He drifted away again, hearing sounds, voices and other things unfamiliar. He wanted to corner someone and ask more questions but it seemed he could just not wake himself up. He shifted to get a little more comfortable in the raised hospital bed and after a while he caved some more and drifted off. Why fight it? It was too hard.
PJ
It felt like Cal had been asleep for ages. It must be time to get up and start the day. He already felt like he'd been lazy. He must have slept in. Except when Cal tried to open his eyes and sit up he found that he couldn't move. He kind of twitched but his body wouldn't respond. He felt alarmed, or at least, his brain thought he should be alarmed, but his heart rate didn't spike, no adrenaline rushed through his system in a fear response. Cal concluded he must he drugged. It wasn't normal to feel like this. His limbs were heavy and even though he thought he heard someone talking he wasn't sure what they said, or if they were even talking to him.
It was like one of those dreams where he was half awake on a Saturday, imagining he'd got out of bed, got dressed, gone to the bathroom, only to stir awake a beat later to find that no, he was still in bed. His mind was clearly playing tricks on him. No one would be talking to him in the morning. Unless Emily was staying over. She was probably accusing him of being a sloth for not being up yet. And if she was up before he was on a weekend that was some impressive lying in on Cal's part. Unless it was during the week and he was going to be late for work. Foster would be on the phone next asking him if he was going to bother coming in today. He didn't like the tone she used. It wasn't entirely teasing. She just worried, she told him. Now that he was alone, she didn't add. But he was fine. No he wasn't fine. It was time to get out of bed. But something was wrong. Cal tried again, to get up, because this was getting ridiculous. He had to move. His hands felt heavy. Wait, no, that was something in his hand, something warm, tactile when he closed his hand against it; skin, another hand, fingers. Someone was holding his hand. That was nice.
Oh right. A hospital. He remembered now. Something about a doctor. A doctor had been talking to him. About how he'd hurt himself or something. And so Cal must be waking up from surgery or something? That would explain why he felt so weird. He could be having a bad reaction to the drugs. Yeah. That.
Cal relaxed and his eyes started to flutter and so he went with it, forcing them open, concentrating hard to make some muscle in his body react the way he wanted it to. His vision was less blurry this time around, but still, the light cut deep into his retinas. The hand was in his left, soft and delicate and he looked up into the eyes of a familiar face. The warm relief that washed through him was completely noted. Cal could feel his heart beat like it had just suddenly started up again. Gillian was sitting with him. She had come to see him. Time out of her busy day. He couldn't help but feel like he didn't warrant her attention, like he had done something, the something that landed him in there in the first place, that would make her mad at him. But she was still here and it made him feel good inside, that she had come to see him. Cal curled a slight smile and turned his head towards her a little, clearing his mouth from his pillow. "What are you doin' here Fosta?"
He didn't expect the shock. But that was what he saw. He was gathering his wits about him now and he saw the shock on her face. He frowned at her, unsure. "You all right?" He asked, positive he was missing something else. Had he done something to hurt her?
"I should be asking you that," Gillian blurted in response.
Cal turned back further against the bed, so he didn't have to strain his neck to see her easily. She looked different but he couldn't place how. The light was too bright and it was hurting his eyes and that made his head hurt. "Do me a fave-a?"
Gillian nodded and so he told her that the light was too bright for his eyes. Gillian volunteered to turn the blinds down and her hand slipped from his when she stood. He missed it already. He muttered his thanks. When she came back she kept her hand to herself and Cal actually half reached for her again before wondering what he was doing. The hand holding in the first place was a bit border-line for them, let alone him actually wanting it. What would his wife say? Wait, he wasn't still... He still had a wedding ring on. He could feel it. But Zoe had left. And she wasn't here now. Maybe he should take the plunge and finally take that ring off.
"How do you feel?" Gillian asked as she sat.
"All right," Cal responded in a low tone. "Dizzy. Kind of weird, you know?" Yes! Dizzy! That was a good way to describe how he felt and he was lying down.
"Yeah sure," Gillian agreed softly. "Do you want me to get the doctor?"
"What for?" Cal asked bluntly.
"You're not in pain or anything?"
"No. Well," Cal had to stop to think. And that made his head hurt a little bit more; a dull aching. "My head hurts a little. The doc said that was to be expected." Well, he must have if Cal was reciting it, though Cal wasn't quite sure he'd heard it. "Whateva that means," he added gruffly, because it was all so very confusing right now. It suddenly occurred to him that Gillian would tell him what happened. But when he looked over at her again what he said was: "You look terrible." She did. Tired. And worried. He must have made a right mess, whatever it was that he'd done. And still, she looked different in ways that couldn't have been just stress. But he wasn't sure.
"Thanks a lot," Gillian mumbled displeased.
"You been worryin' about me?" He teased.
She gave a very, very slight smile, full of tenderness and warmth. "Of course I have."
Cal felt his lips move into a smile and his chest swell with delight. What the hell? He shouldn't be feeling this way about his business partner. That was far too complicated to think about. But it was wrong. That was the wrong way to feel about her. He wasn't supposed to. He had a wife. Sort of. More importantly, she had a husband. He had to be good. He was going to blame that one on the drugs and on the bump to his head. He was probably concussed.
"Cal?"
Cal turned back to look at her, focussing again.
"Why did you call me Foster?"
Cal felt like laughing, but that kind of complex response was way beyond him right now. "That's your name isn't it?" He asked. "You don't like Fosta anymore?" What was her maiden name again? He'd forgotten. "Want me to call you Gillian from now on?"
"I was just wondering."
Cal didn't know what that meant but he certainly got the distinct impression he was missing something. "The doc said I was out for a while," he commented, determined now, trying to shake off that sleepy dreamy sensation. "How long was I here?"
Gillian hesitated, her eyes slipping away for a second. "A while."
"Yeah how long is a while exactly?" His tone was surprisingly sharp. Good. Time to wrestle back control of himself. The drugs must be wearing off.
"Over a month."
His heart skipped a beat. Finally, a normal reaction from it. "Bloody hell," he muttered, closing his eyes and raising his left hand to them; cooperation! At last! He rubbed his eyes gently and then gave a little frown. He pulled his hand away to study his wedding ring. Oh yeah, his wife. Zoe. That was what he had been thinking about before; what he had meant to ask about.
"Do you know what happened?" Gillian asked him directly.
"Some sort of accident," Cal responded absently. "I dunno. The docta was vague on those details. Is Zoe on her way here?"
"Zoe?" Gillian croaked. Cal looked over at her surprised again. What was the big deal about Zoe? She might have left him but they were still talking. They weren't really working things out but she wasn't blacklisted. Oh god. What if? What if it'd been a car accident and Zoe was there with him... Cal was about to ask about Emily too, a sickening feeling in his stomach, when there was a cry from the door. Cal turned his head sharply to see a little boy with brown hair and blue eyes rush across the room to crash into Gillian's legs where she sat.
'Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?' Cal thought as he watched Gillian pull him to her lap while he said hello to her. 'Fosta had a kid?' The boy called her 'Mum'.
Gillian looked over at Cal desperately; he could see her quickly trying to form an explanation. There was obviously so much more she needed to tell him. A month in the hospital? No way. It had to be much longer than that. The kid was older. Unless. She and Alec had finally adopted?
"Dad!" The boy immediately turned and reached out for the bed where he lay.
Cal felt his throat go dry, his heart spike in shock and a sweat pop out along the front of his chest. Dad. No. That wasn't right. No way that was right. He must not be in Kansas anymore.