"Caine, did he spend a peaceful night?"
{Who is that talking? I should know.}
"Yes. His sleep was sound and dreamless."
Peter mentally smiled. {Pop. I knew he would be here.}
"I wish I could say the same about Kacie," the first voice continued gravely. "I stopped to check with the night nurses over there before I came here, and they said that she had had the granddaddy of all nightmares about four o'clock this morning. Said the screaming woke up half the patients on the floor. They couldn't calm her down, so they sedated her. Still sleeping, but she looks like hell."
"She is ill?" Caine sounded concerned.
"Running a slight fever and some mild dehydration. Nothing unusual for someone suffering from exhaustion. That, coupled with the fact that she hadn't had anything to eat or drink in over twenty-four hours."
Peter recognized the voice now; it was Dr. McClanahan's. {Kacie? They're talking about Kacie. What happened to her?} His weighted lids refused to open. Trying to move, he stirred, instantly realizing that any movement, no matter how slight, was a mistake. A moan gurgled around the tube in his throat, and a gentle hand immediately touched his forehead in response. He relaxed under the familiar soothing touch.
"Peter." His father's voice trembled slightly as his hand caressed Peter's cheek. "I am here, my son. You are in the hospital, but you are getting well."
Peter forced his eyelids to open fractionally, and his lashes fluttered as he sought to focus on his surroundings. The lights tilted crazily, and he closed his eyes to ward off a wave of dizziness. {No. I can't get sick. I won't.} The tube in his throat gagged him, and he struggled against the forced breathing of the respirator. He reopened his eyes and located the doctor's face, wordlessly begging for relief.
"All right, Peter. I'm going to need your help here to get that tube out. We're going to roll you over on your side, and when I say to, you try and cough while I pull. From what I've read of your past medical files, you've done this a time or two before."
{No shit,} Peter thought humorlessly. {Please, God, don't let me throw up this time.} Submitting to the hands that turned and supported him, he feebly coughed on demand and swallowed sickly a few times when his throat was his own again. A mask was fitted over his nose and mouth, and his chest ached unbearably with the effort of finding its own breathing rhythm.
Consciousness faded as a quick injection of painkiller traversed his system. {Kacie. I need to ask about Kacie.} The soothing hand stroking his temple relaxed him further. {Sleep. Need to sleep. Kacie? Pop. Pop will make sure she's all right. Pop...}
Kacie moaned in her sleep, muscles twitching spasmodically. Annie, who had been sitting in a chair beside the young woman, felt her way over to the bed. {Peter used to dream like this when he first came to us. It would break my heart to hear him, a little boy trapped in the half-grown body of a man.}
Kacie started crying in her sleep, small whimpers at first and then body-racking sobs as she tossed restlessly in the bed. "Peter...no. Please...no!" The last was a heartbroken wail. "No-o-o!"
A nurse entered the room and took in the situation at a glance. "She's got them again, doesn't she? Do you know this patient very well?" she asked Annie.
"Yes, she's a close family friend." Annie turned her head in the direction of the nurse's voice. "Is there anything I can do to help her?"
"Try to wake her up and calm her down. I'll see if the doctor can answer his page." She pressed the intercom button to the nurse's station and spoke into it. "Page Dr. McClanahan to Room two-fourteen."
Annie sat on the edge of the bed, patting Kacie's back and crooning softly to her. "Kacie? Kacie, it's Annie. You're having a bad dream, Sweetie." She gripped the younger woman's arm and shook her, trying to rouse her. "Wake up, Kacie. Wake up. You're having a dream. It's just a dream."
Kacie's eyelids fluttered and she blinked, rousing to a groggy reality as the door whisked open.
"So we're awake, I see."
She eyed Dr. McClanahan blearily. "What?" she croaked. "What did somebody give me last night?"
Annie squeezed Kacie's hand. "Are you all right?"
"Annie? What are you doing here? Peter! Is Peter all right?" Kacie sat up abruptly, and gasped, "What? Oh-h-h, my head." She grabbed at her hair with both hands and fell back moaning, "Oh, God! What did you give me? My head is coming off!"
She writhed in pain and flinched away from the pencil light McClanahan shone into her eyes. Biting her lip against the throb in her temples, she asked again, "Is Peter all right?" She tried to open her eyes, but even the subdued light of the room was too bright to her overly sensitive eyes, and she squeezed them tightly shut.
"I took him off the respirator this morning, and he's breathing well on his own," the doctor told her. "He's sleeping comfortably right now. His father is with him."
Kacie continued to clutch her head. "Thank God for that!" She curled up into a ball and whimpered, "Make my head stop hurting. Make it stop. Please make it stop."
McClanahan picked up Kacie's chart and made several notations before speaking to the nurse. "Imitrex. Ten CCs. Keep the IV fluids moving."
As the nurse left to fill the doctor's orders, McClanahan turned back to Kacie. "I'm sorry, Kacie. You're going to have to tough it out for awhile. You were given some Xanax last night to calm you down, and you woke up with one of the nastier side effects. You should have known better than not to eat or drink anything all day long," he scolded.
"I know," she said in a small voice. "But I couldn't leave him." Her forehead was furrowed in pain, but she asked again, needing to hear the words repeated. "Peter will be all right. You did say that, didn't you? He'll be all right?"
"Of course he'll be all right. I'm one hell of a surgeon. You know that."
A ghost of a smile flickered over her face at his words. "I know. That's why you can get away with intimidating all the surgical nurses."
The nurse reappeared bearing a tray with the necessary equipment, and McClanahan talked to Kacie while the nurse administered the injection. "This may take a while to kick in, but try and get some rest. I'll stop by later and give you another progress report about Peter." He signaled the nurse with his eyes and they left the room together.
Kacie stayed curled up on her side and wearily closed her eyes. "My head feels like someone's beating a bass drum inside."
"I know, Sweetie," Annie sympathized, holding Kacie's hand and patting it gently. "You just rest now, and this time when you dream, you dream about how soon Peter will be well."
"You're so nice," Kacie murmured. "Peter was so lucky to find you and your family to love him."
"Shhh." Annie hushed her. "Close your eyes and relax. And for the record, Sweetie, I think Peter was lucky to find you to love him." She feathered her fingers through the hair above Kacie's ear in a gentle massage.
"Mmm. My mom used to do that when I was sick."
"Sh-h-h. You're supposed to rest, not talk."
Kacie's muscles relaxed slightly and she smiled weakly. "Mom used to tell me that, too."
"Then listen to us both and just rest." Annie continued her bedside vigil and softly hummed the tuneless melody mothers have comforted children with since time began.
Peter was vaguely aware that his bed moved beneath him, and he stirred fitfully until his father's hand rested on his shoulder.
"You are being moved to a different room, my son. It is all right."
{Pop's with me. Nothing can happen while Pop's here. Tired. Just so tired.}
He dozed off and on until once again he heard quiet voices speaking. He drifted his way to wakefulness and lay quietly, eyes closed.
"Annie, you should go home and rest," he heard his father saying. "You look very tired."
"You sound very tired, Caine," he heard his mother's voice reply. "Does that mean that you're going home to rest?"
Caine chuckled softly. "No, I can not leave here any more than you."
Peter felt guilty about eavesdropping, but it was comforting to know that both his father and Annie were with him.
"Caine, I'm worried about Kacie." Annie sounded troubled.
"She is worse?"
"No-o-o, not that, exactly. But she cries in her sleep, and keeps having nightmares. The doctor is ready to sedate her again, just to make sure she rests, but she reacted so badly to the last medication, they don't want to do that."
"I have some herbs in my pouch. I will go to her. Will you stay here with our son?"
"You know I will."
Peter heard the soft whisper of a door opening and closing. He lay still, thinking about what he had heard them say. {It's me,} he thought. {I'm making her have those nightmares. It's making her sick.} He shifted restlessly under the blankets and groaned as the movement caused his chest to ache. A nasal cannula had replaced the oxygen mask, and it made his nose itch.
"Peter? Sweetie, are you awake?" Annie cautiously felt her way to the bed, not wanting to bump any of the monitors or wires. Her hand found its way to his face, and she gently caressed his cheek.
He breathed in the familiar scent of her White Linen perfume. "Mom?" he croaked hoarsely.
"I'm right here, Sweetheart. Your father is close by, too." He could hear her voice wobble.
"Mom...sorry...to be...such a worry."
He felt her run her fingers through the hair at his temple, and unbidden tears welled up at this familiar gesture.
"Don't you trouble yourself about that. We worry about you because we love you, Peter. And when you love somebody, nothing is too much trouble." She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "Don't tire yourself out, Sweetie. You go back to sleep, and I'll just sit here with you a while."
"I love you, Mom," he said sleepily. {Damn medication. I wanna talk. Can't...}
He fell back asleep before he could hear her say, "I love you back."
Caine entered Kacie's room to the sound of her crying. She was still asleep, but tossed about restlessly while she dreamed. "Peter...no. Don't leave me. Don't...come back. Please, come back."
He sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled her into his arms, holding her head against his shoulder. "Wake up. Wake up, my child. You are dreaming. What you see is not real."
She quieted in his arms and relaxed against him. "Caine?"
"I am here."
She pulled away from him to look into his face. "Peter?" Her face was tear-streaked and pale, and her eyes red and swollen.
He smiled warmly. "He is better. He has been moved to a new room. Not...step down, but..."
"On the ward?" Her eyes filled with fresh tears. "He must be better, or they would never put him there. I have to go to him."
"The hell you are. You're not going anywhere, young lady."
Both Kacie and Caine looked up to see Dr. McClanahan in the doorway, holding a chart and looking displeased. "Says here that you haven't been getting a lot of rest, and your temp is still up. I'm not thrilled with your blood test results, either."
"It's the nightmares. They won't stop. They're so real." She shuddered in Caine's arms. "They're so real. And this headache just won't go away."
"If you don't get some real rest, I'm going to have to give you something to knock you out," he warned her.
"Perhaps," Caine interjected, "if I were to give her some of my herbs?"
McClanahan eyed him doubtfully.
"I am an apothecary in Chinatown. Many times my herbs have helped people." Caine shrugged one shoulder. "But I will do as you say."
"Couldn't hurt, I guess. She doesn't seem to tolerate the medications very well."
Kacie sat very quietly and made no comment. {I can't believe the way they talk about me like I'm not even in the room, but I know Doctor well enough that I won't get to see Peter unless I behave myself.}
"I need some hot water."
"I'll send one of the nurses after some on my way out," the doctor told him. Looking at Kacie he put his hands on his hips and said sternly, "You are not to leave this room until I say so, is that clear? And I'll put someone on guard duty if I have to."
Caine smiled. "That will not be necessary. I will stay with her."
"What about Peter?" Kacie objected. "You should be with him."
"Peter is sleeping. And his mother is with him now. He will be all right while I stay with you."
"Sleep for you, too, Kacie," ordered the doctor. With a nod to Caine, he left.
As Kacie continued to tremble in Caine's embrace, he asked, "Do you wish to tell me of your dreams? Sometimes to speak of a dream makes the dragons disappear from under the bed."
"He leaves me," she said in a small voice. "We're together, and he suddenly pulls away and --" She shivered more strongly. "-- He pulls away from me and he leaves me. I call after him, but he won't look back. He just keeps walking away. And I'm all alone in the dark again."
He gently reminded her, "It was only a dream. Perhaps, out of your concern, your mind is playing tricks. Or perhaps because of the drug in your system? I will prepare special herbs for you that will allow you to rest."
She nodded her head against his chest. "Talking with you is almost like talking with my dad. Thank you."
Caine stroked her hair as it lay in waves down her back. "Your father was indeed fortunate to have had a daughter like you. I am honored that you think of me as you thought of your father."
A nurse came in, bearing a tray with a steaming teapot and a cup on a saucer, setting it on a bedside tray and leaving again. Caine helped Kacie sit back in her bed and slung his pouch over his head and off his shoulder. Searching through it intently, he took various pinches of dried herbs from their packets and put them in the cup. Adding the hot water, he stirred the mixture carefully, adding a few more pinches of crushed leaf before sniffing the aroma. Satisfied, he handed her the cup.
The first sip made her grimace in distaste. " Ew-w. This must be what Peter was talking about when he said some of this stuff was awful."
"Sometimes the medicine that does the most good has the worst taste, does it not?"
She smiled at him, grateful for his understanding. "I guess you're right. OK, here goes." She drank slowly at first, but then more quickly as she got used to the taste. "This really isn't so bad." As she finished the last of it, she blinked sleepily. "My headache is gone," she noted in surprise.
Taking the cup from her, he set it aside and helped her slide down under the covers. Her eyelids fluttered as he tucked the blankets around her. "You'll stay with me for a little while?"
"Yes." He sat cross-legged in the chair he pulled close to the bed and held her hand as she nodded off to sleep.