There was a hand running gently through his hair, and tenderly massaging his temple. {The touch. I know that touch. But I'm tired. God, I'm tired.} He drifted off to sleep, feeling himself enveloped in a comforting cocoon of love.
Floating in a timeless sea of comfortable blackness, Peter found himself surfacing toward light and sound. He was vaguely aware of muted voices in the background. His eyelids were held closed by leaden weights as he moved his head slightly. The touch was instantly back again, feather light against his cheek and brow. {Where am I? What happened? The truck. Kacie screaming. The truck. It hit us. She's screaming. She's screaming. Kacie. Kacie?} He forced open his eyes, and the ceiling tilted crazily. He swallowed and closed his eyes against the dizziness. His throat hurt. His chest ached.
A voice softly spoke his name, and his head automatically turned in that direction.
"Peter? Sweetheart? Open your eyes. Please wake up. I know it's hard, but please open your eyes." The voice thickened tearfully as the caresses at his temple went on.
He sighed painfully -- a guttural sound -- deep in his throat, and fluttered his eyelids again. Gradually the room stopped dipping and swaying, and he was able to focus on a face hovering close to his -- a worried face, but one he would know anywhere. {Those bottomless blue eyes.} His own eyes warmed with recognition, and the briefest of smiles came to his lips. "Hi." His weak voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Hi, yourself." Kacie's voice wobbled while tears rolled down her cheeks. She put one hand on his shoulder and laid her head next to his on the pillow.
"You...all right?" he croaked hoarsely, frowning as he remembered the sound of her screams.
"I'm supposed to ask you that," she responded tearily, her voice muffled against his neck.
He lifted a shaky hand to touch her head and tangled his fingers in her hair. "Don't...cry."
"I love you," she choked, struggling for control. "I've been so scared, Peter."
"What...happened...car?" His chest was beginning to ache with the effort of breathing and talking. He could feel something wrapped tightly around his ribs, and it scratched. "You...hurt?"
"No, Honey. I'm fine," she sniffled. "I'm fine. You're the one who's been scaring the hell out of me."
"S-sorry." He swallowed against the dryness in his throat. "H-h-ow long?"
"Ten days. The ten longest days and nights of my life." She kissed his cheek and took his hand in hers. "Can I get you anything, Sweetheart? Are you in any pain?"
"Drink."
The liquid sliding down his throat helped smooth the sandpaper edges there. He nearly drained the glass before releasing the straw and turning away his head . "So...tired," he murmured sleepily.
"You rest, then, and concentrate on getting well." Kacie kissed his forehead and planted a tender kiss at the corner of his mouth.
A ghost of a smile flitted over Peter's face as he yawned drowsily. "Mmm. More. Real kiss."
"Will you go back to sleep then?"
He nodded weakly. "Promise."
She took his face in her hands and gently moved her lips over his. When she looked at him again, he was asleep, the faint smile still there.
Paul walked into Peter's hospital room with Annie on
his arm. "How's the patient today?" he asked cheerily.
"It's awfully quiet in here," teased Annie.
Kacie sat perched next to Peter's hip as he lay in the hospital bed. They were holding hands and grinning foolishly at one another.
"I'm still in respiratory distress," Peter joked. "Kacie's using her rescue breathing on me." He smiled at his wife. "I don't think you have it quite right yet, Hon. We need to practice some more."
"Peter," Kacie scolded, her face flaming. "Not in front of your parents."
"I won't look," Paul chuckled.
"Neither will I," Annie said, straight-faced.
Peter started to laugh and winced sharply instead. "Ouch. Oh, Mom. Don't make me laugh. Please."
The Blaisdells moved to Peter's bedside, where he smiled at them weakly.
Kacie trailed her fingers up and down Peter's forearm. "Well, Hon, since your folks are here, I'm going to run and take care of a few hospital errands."
Peter's face fell. "Do you have to leave?" He made his face comically tragic and held her hand tightly. "I've only been awake for two days. I have over a week of just looking at you to catch up on."
"No, you don't," she teased. "That look is not going to work this time, and neither is all that charm. You're in good hands. Besides, I don't plan on being gone all that long. I'll be back later, Sweetheart," Kacie promised, and then, regardless of audience, she leaned over and gave him a lingering kiss and a second, quick one before she pulled away. "Love you."
She glanced at Annie and Paul. "Watch him for me. He's got at least four more days here before he can even think about checking out. I don't want him getting any funny ideas while I'm gone." She bounced out of the room with a lighter step than she had in days.
"Aren't you happy to see us, Peter?" Paul asked innocently. "I suppose we could always leave again..."
"Speak for yourself, Paul. I am here to see my son, and I'm not leaving. He's stuck with my company whether he wants it or not."
"Mom, Paul, I'm sorry you had to cut your trip short because of me," Peter apologized. "I know how much you were looking forward to going away for awhile."
"We can always set up another trip, Son." Paul brushed the hair back from Peter's forehead. "I'm sorry we didn't get back sooner than we did. I know that first day after you were hurt was pretty hard on Kacie. I'm just glad Kermit was able to track us down as soon as he did."
Peter regarded Paul seriously. "Is Kacie OK? She looks pale to me, and I don't remember her being so thin. Is she sick, and you're keeping it from me?"
Annie reached for his hand and sat beside him as he gripped her fingers. "She's just been really worried about you, Sweetie. She's lost some weight, but now that you're better, I'm sure she'll be fine."
Peter frowned. "I don't like her making herself sick over me."
"Don't know how anybody could have stopped her, Son," Paul observed. "She loves you in a way that most men can only dream about."
Annie chimed in again. "She's already getting better; just like you are. Now tell us about how you're behaving yourself."