Ana is slowly awakened by some kind of commotion; upset voices making their way through her fuzzy mind. Before she can properly get her eyes open, a small, cold body crawls down next to her in bed.
Sara puts her thin arms around her mother and squeezes hard, and she's sobbing?
Oh fuck, she hated the house! Ana swallows – she should have been there, Christian isn't that used to kids. How incredibly stupid of her to let him take Sara to see a house they're moving in to, without her.
She puts her arms around her crying daughter and hushes her, rocking her a little. But before she can ask Sara what's happened, Grace shows up in the doorway. Her eyes have a look of panic and her face is ashen.
Immediately Ana sits up in bed, still holding on to Sara. Something is seriously wrong – she's missing something. Where's Christian? Just looking into Grace's eyes she knows it's about him.
"No." No, no. Her voice is hoarse, her throat tight, she can barely utter the words. "Where is he?"
Grace's eyes well up and she tries to stop the tears with shaking hands. Her legs seem to be trembling as well and she goes to sit down in the bed next to Ana.
By now Ana's stopped breathing. Please, please, please, don't let him be dead. Please.
Grace swallows. "He's in the hospital, Ana. He collapsed ..."Her voice breaks. "I don't know anything, nothing … but Taylor is taking me now. I have to go." Grace looks terrified and bewildered, her hands nervously stroking up and down her thighs.
O, thank God, he's not dead. As long as he's not dead, it will be okay. That's all she can think; if he's in the hospital he's still alive. Collapsed, what does that mean? Stroke, heart attack, aneurysm, what? Her head is spinning. She needs to be with him now.
In panic, she starts looking around the room for clothes. Christian's jacket is hanging neatly off the back of a chair. Ana's stuck staring at it, when Grace continues.
"But you need to know that Sara was there when it happened and she's very freaked out." Grace's eyes flash with sympathy as she reaches over shakily and strokes Sara's hair, causing the girl to cry even harder. "Taylor took good care of her though."
Ana looks down at her wailing daughter like she's almost forgotten she's there. Oh fuck. She tightens her hold on Sara.
"I have to go. I'll call as soon as I know more." Grace gets up to leave.
"I'll be right behind you." Ana's voice is still hoarse but steady and determined now. "I just have to talk to Sara. I'll meet you at the hospital."
Grace looks as if though she's going to argue, always the doctor, but instead she just nods and sets off down the hallway, calling for Taylor that they're leaving.
Turning her attention to her daughter, Ana fights to keep her voice calm and to focus. Christian is in the hospital getting the best care, but Sara is here and in need of her mother. She can let herself go later.
Poor baby, first her father and now this – just as she was starting to get close to Christian.
"Sara baby, look at me. Can you tell me what happened?" Ana keeps her voice low and soft, but determined. It usually works with Sara and it does this time too.
She calms down and almost without sobbing, at least until the very end, the little girl recounts everything, starting with her telling Taylor about the pool. As Ana listens fear grips her again, mixed with guilt and empathy for Sara having to had seen it all. Thank God Taylor was there, what if he hadn't been? What would have happened to Sara, to Christian?
Barely knowing what's coming out of her mouth she hears herself promise to Sara that Christian is going to be fine. It's unfair and stupid since it's a promise she doesn't know if she can keep. But it's said and now all she can do is hope that she won't regret it.
Gradually Sara calms down and claims she doesn't mind being dropped off at Kate's and Elliot's. It will be perfect for her – she can play with her friends and if she needs support Kate is like a second mother to Sara.
Her phone is lying neatly on the bedside table, fully charged despite the fact that she's been out of it for several days. Her eyes burn when she realizes that it's Christian's doing.
When she checks for messages from Grace – she should be at the hospital by now – it's like the wind is being knocked out of her. The stab of pain in her gut is so intense she has to bend over not to wail and so scare Sara even more.
There's a text message from Christian. It' starts with a thumbs up.
"Just to let you know, the room with the bay window is taken. If you want it, I suspect you'll have to fight Sara for it.
We'll be with you, my love, in 45 minutes, when I'm going to force feed you lunch.
I love you and I love us. All three of us./C"
Oh, her heart is breaking. I love YOU. If, when, he's okay there will be no more hesitating. Christian will know that Ana loves him, every second for the rest of his life. That's a promise.
Taking a few deep breaths to compose herself, she phones Kate to ask if she can take Sara and to explain. Kate's already heard from Elliot, who's away on a business trip but is making his way back as fast as he can. Then she calls a cab. She gets dressed quickly and brushes her hair and teeth, legs wobbly from fear and fever, but she barely notices.
When the cab arrives she grabs her bag and keys and takes Sara's hand. Before they leave the house she looks down at her daughter, trying to read her state of mind.
"Are you sure you're okay with this, going to Kate's? I'll call you every hour if you want me to." Sara wants to go – probably grateful for the distraction.
:::: :::: ::::
When the cab leaves Elliot's and Kate's drive-way and heads for the Swedish Medical Center, Ana breaks down and sobs loudly as tears stream down her face. When rooting around in her bag for tissues, help comes unexpectedly from the cab driver who offers her a box of Kleenex.
"Thank you. You're so kind," she stutters at his worried gaze in the rear view mirror. "I'm so sorry. I'm worried about a friend."
The driver smiles compassionately in the mirror and leaves her to her crying for the rest of the trip.
When they pull up outside the emergency entrance and she pays the driver, her phone buzzes in her hand. She signals to the driver to keep the change, eager to look at the message. She's been clutching it since leaving the house and when she looks at the screen it's wet with her sweat.
It's a short text message from Grace.
" C is fine, do not worry. Anxiety attack. Call you later. X Grace"
Ana sinks down on the closest bright orange plastic chair in the waiting room, completely exhausted. He's really fine? It's seems incredible. From what Sara told her, she was sure he'd had a heart attack. Could it really be anxiety, and why, about what?
It takes a couple of minutes before relief starts finding it's way into her state of mind, but she needs to make sure for herself, not knowing what to believe. Willing her legs to work, she gets up and sets out to find Christian.
A friendly male nurse takes it upon him to show her to Christian's private room personally but soon she can spot Grace standing down the corridor and she waves him off, barely remembering to thank him for his kindness.
Grace is on the phone, but she ends the call when she sees Ana. Her face is still pale and her eyes worried, but the difference from before is obvious.
"Oh, Ana. It was just a terrible scare." Grace's embrace feels really good, almost like her own mother's. Tears start flowing down her cheeks again so Grace keeps Ana in her arms while telling her about Christian.
He has had a severe anxiety attack, and apparently they can look very much like a heart attack. And feel like it too. Apart from being tired and in an extremely foul mood, he's fine.
He's really, really fine. Now Ana's crying from real relief, finally letting her fear pour out of her. It's a wonder she has any tears left at this point.
"I've never been so scared, Grace," she sobs to the woman's shoulder, leaving dark stains on her otherwise immaculate jacket.
"I know, honey, me neither." Grace rocks her for a while and then releases her.
"I think you should go in and see him. It might calm him which is something he needs right now. Being ill and accepting help is not one of my son's strengths. Speaking of which, you should know that I've left a message for Dr. Flynn, although he hasn't treated Christian for years."
Grace actually manages a pale smirk."I doubt Christian will talk to any one else."
"Oh. Good." Ana's voice is small. "Grace, I'll go in now."
"Yes, of course. I'm calling Elliot. Please tell my son to calm down."
Ana quietly opens the door to the room, sticking her head in first. She' still not convinced he won't be lying in the hospital bed half dead.
A pale, frowning Christian is sitting in the bed violently turning the pages in some glossy magazine. He hasn't noticed her. He looks worn and tired, but otherwise himself and Ana wants to throw herself at him from relief. She doesn't, instead she closes the door behind her and walks in.
The look in Christian's eyes when he hears her coming in and turns is blazing with anger. He's seriously pissed off. But as soon as he sees it's her his face and whole posture softens.
"Ana, I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers, looking deeply apologetic.
Walking to his bedside shakily, she puts her hand on the sheet next to him, suddenly afraid of how she'll react if she touches him right now. Probably she'll break down and that's not what he needs right now.
She swallows the threatening lump in her throat: "Why are you sorry?" Her voice is hoarse from all the crying and Christian narrows his eyes, taking a better look at her.
"Sara saw the whole idiotic thing. She was so happy and then ... it must have scared her to death. I hope she let's me make it up to her." He says the last thing almost to himself as if his mind is already starting to work on possible ways to make an eight-year old forget a traumatic experience.
"Christian, stop. Sara had a shock, but she'll be fine. The question is what happened to you? How are you?" Her voice won't hold and Christian narrows his eyes again.
"Hey, how are you?" Speaking softly, he grabs her arm and starts pulling her toward him. "Don't worry, baby, this is nothing. It's stupid and fucking irritating." He waves his hand dismissively.
"You had a severe anxiety attack."
Letting her arm go, her runs his hand through his messier-than-usual hair.
"Ana, I'm not sure what happened but I'm perfectly fine now and I do not have anxiety. I'll admit I freaked for moment and thought I was having a heart attack, but I know I probably will have one if they don't let me out of this bed soon and give me my phone back!"
The last words are exclaimed loudly and aimed at the door. Ana suspects Grace has confiscated his phone, but if that's supposed to give him peace and quiet … it might not be doing the trick.
"Don't be fucking stupid," Ana says, suddenly furious at Christian, who looks up in stunned surprise.
"What?" He rubs his forehead, puzzled and still deeply annoyed.
"I said, don't be fucking stupid." Although Christian's eyes light with anger it only fuels her own at this point.
"Don't you dare get pissed off at me. You love me and want to live with me? Then you don't get to shrug this off like it's nothing." Her voice is very loud, but she doesn't care. An outlet for her need to vent has just presented itself.
"I've spent the past hour and a half thinking you were dying. Your mother did too. My daughter did and Taylor did. Even you did. Yet you feel the first priority is you fucking phone?"
Okay, so now she's yelling at him. But if she doesn't she'll start bawling again.
"They wouldn't even let me call you." Christian says glumly, looking down at his hands like a boy who´s just been told off. Which, in a way, he has.
The sight of him now vulnerable and embarrassed, deflates Ana completely. Naturally he must be equally scared and as shaken up as she is and wanting to handle that the same way he always does – by barking orders at someone. But without his phone there would be no one to bark at here. At least no one who cares.
She sighs deeply. The need to yell at him has suddenly given way to a need of being physically close to him. Seeing him exasperated and pissed off is a relief – somehow it's a healthy sign.
"I'm sorry. I have never, ever been so scared as I was today," Ana whispers. Christian gives her a pained look and reaches for her hand, tugging it so she comes closer.
Careful not to touch any cables connected to him she climbs into the bed and without a word he scoots over to make room. Resting on his arm and snuggling his neck she inhales the Christian-scent – warm, reassuring.
"I mean it, I thought I was loosing you. What do I do if you leave me now, Christian?
Fuck. Hot tears are streaming down her face again, wetting Christian's neck, causing him to tighten his grip on her. She has no energy left to stop them or even sob so lets the tears run freely.
"I'm not going anywhere, I promise you that." Christian's voice is soft and comforting and she presses her cheek against his neck.
"Ana, listen, they've checked me thoroughly and there's nothing wrong with me physically – I'm very healthy. Probably I've been stressed out without realizing it."
"Grace told me she left a message for Dr. Flynn. Will you see him?"
"Of course I will, baby. As soon as I can."
"Good." An overwhelming exhaustion hits Ana when she finally starts relaxing and she shivers a little.
"Shit, you still have a fever." Christian's voice is, obviously, full of concern for her and he makes more room in the bed by turning on his side and letting Ana's head down on his pillow. Resting his head next to hers, his nose to hers, he protectively drapes and arm over her.
"Sleep for a while, baby. I'm here."