Soothing fingers massaged his temples, but he relaxed only slightly under the touch as memories came flooding back. "The baby?" His throat was dry, and his voice rusty. "The baby. What…?"
"The child lives."
Peter opened his eyes and stared up at his father. "They said the baby was dying, but I-I-I felt it." His thoughts were muddled, and he squinted his eyes, trying to remember things more clearly. "I felt it, and then-then-then my insides were on fire. I don't remember…"
Caine's eyes were filled with love and pride. "You took the child's sickness as your own, and you gave it your strength."
"But…how? I-I've never done anything like that before. Not like you."
"You have completed your training. You are Shaolin." Caine shrugged and smiled, raising one eyebrow archly. "Even a Shaolin cop can perform amazing acts. And…" His voice choked briefly. "A father's love for his child is a powerful force."
Peter struggled to sit up. "Kacie. What about Kacie? I need to be with her."
"She is still sleeping. Paul and Annie are with her. We knew you would not want her to be alone."
Peter's face contorted, and his voice trembled. "She's really all right? She and the baby are both all right?"
"Yes, my son." Caine raised his hand to cup Peter's cheek in the large palm.
Closing his eyes, Peter nestled his face into his father's caress, tears seeping through his eyelashes and trickling down his face. "Dad…I…there aren't any words…" He gave up trying to speak and leaned into the strong, broad shoulder as he cried out the fear and worry that had been his constant companions for the past several days.
Caine gathered Peter into his arms and held him tightly. "We have a bond that needs no words, Peter." Patting his son's back comfortingly, he went on, "Sometimes the father must be strong for the child, so the child may in turn be strong for the father."
When Peter at last composed himself, he wiped his eyes with his forearm.
Caine reached over to the bedside stand and picked up a small cup of liquid. Handing it to Peter, he ordered, "Drink this…all of it. Your chi has been greatly weakened, and this will help you regain your strength."
Peter took it obediently, but nearly gagged at his first sip. "For crying out loud, Pop! How come the stuff you give me is always so awful?" He tossed back his head and gulped down the rest, shuddering as he swallowed, and grimacing as he handed back the empty cup to Caine. "I will never make my son drink anything that tastes this terrible," he grumbled.
Caine chuckled and smiled knowingly. "You will probably ask a doting grandfather to do your…dirty work?... for you." He helped Peter slide down in the bed as the herbal remedy started working.
Peter yawned drowsily and was nearly asleep as he requested, "You'll wake me…if Kacie…needs me?"
"Yes. Now, you must rest." Caine smoothed back an unruly lock of hair from Peter's forehead.
"I love you…Pop," Peter murmured, and then his voice trailed away as sleep claimed him. "That stuff…awful…never make…my son…"
The nurse grinned at him good-naturedly. "They don't call our lab techs 'vampires' for nothing, Peter. At least we're down to twice a day." She took her equipment and exited, nearly running into Dr. Sabourin as she left.
Peter linked his fingers with Kacie's and raised her hand to rub it against his cheek. "Why doesn’t she wake up? I thought you all said she was getting stronger, that she was getting well?"
"She is, Peter. The lacerations are healing, and the infection is clearing up nicely." Sabourin busied herself checking the various monitors and equipment.
Taking his free hand, Peter stroked loving fingers through the hair above Kacie's ear. "Then why hasn't she opened her eyes, or talked to me?" he asked softly. "It's been forever."
"Peter, it's been less than seventy-two hours," Sabourin corrected gently.
"That's forever." Peter swallowed quickly and blinked against the moisture that stung his eyes.
"Sleeping is the best thing for her and the baby. Her system was over-stressed for quite a while, and the body heals itself during sleep. She'll be fine; just give her time." The doctor checked the charts at the foot of Kacie's bed and made a few notations before returning it to the original spot. Patting Peter's shoulder, she reassured him again, "Give her time."
Left alone with his wife, Peter stared at the pale face, noting anew the way Kacie's dark eyelashes curled against her cheeks. "You listen to me, Katherine Christine McConnell Caine." He tenderly stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "You are scaring the hell out of me here. Me, and everybody else who loves you." He sniffed once and kissed the hand he still held. Keeping his lips pressed to her skin for a moment, he sat pensively.
Taking a deep, shaky breath and sighing it out slowly, he whispered, "Oh, Kace, if this is anything like what I've put you through when I was the one lying here…" He shook his head and bit his lower lip before continuing, "I am so sorry for those times, Sweetheart. I don't know how you stood it. It kills me to see you like this…not to be able to talk with you, or look into your eyes, or see you smile."
He closed his eyes and clasped both his hands around her left hand, feeling her rings pressing into his palm. He was unable to see the lashes that fluttered sleepily and the blue eyes attempting to focus on his face.
"Come back to me, Kace. Come back. I love you." His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard before choking out, "I need you. You're the only thing in my life that's ever made any sense. Being married to you has brought me more…joy…than any man deserves."
The blue eyes were staring at him now, alight with love and bright with unshed tears.
"Ah, Kace, I can't find the words to tell you how much you mean to me." His voice faltered. "For putting up with me, for what you're putting your body through to have my baby." Speech became impossible, and he bowed his head over the hand folded in his.
"Pe-ter."
The voice was so soft, he thought he imagined it.
"Pe-ter?"
Almost afraid to raise his head, he lifted his eyes to see Kacie watching him, a slow trail of tears winding down her face. He caught his breath in a joyous gasp. "Kace? You know me?"
She blinked sleepily. "Tired."
He kissed her quickly, a brushing of lips as soft as butterfly wings. "You rest, then, Sweetheart. I'll be right here."
"Ba-by?"
"The baby's fine, and you're getting well, too."
"Hap-pened?"
The look of terror that crossed her face made Peter's heart twist as he thought of all she had experienced. "They're dead. Both of them. They'll never hurt you, or anyone else, ever again."
"You?" Her eyes asked questions she lacked the strength to vocalize.
He shook his head. "No. It wasn't me that killed them."
The relief on her face was evident. "You…hurt?" Concern was back again.
Peter smiled at her, even as his vision blurred through a curtain of tears. "When will you stop worrying about me, and worry about yourself instead?"
She smiled faintly and closed her eyes. "Ne-ver." Sighing softly, she breathed, "Love...you."
Kissing her forehead, he thumbed away the last of the tears from her face as her breathing became deep and regular. "I love you most," he whispered. "And every minute with you, I win."
He watched her sleep, and thought, {Mine. She's mine; and I will never let anyone hurt her like this again.} He rubbed his hand over her belly, and let his palm rest there. {Mine. I pledge my life to keep you safe from harm, Little One.} A slow smile played about his lips, and he chuckled softly, "But I don't think that I'll let you call me 'Pop'."
He stared at a spot on the wall before musing pensively, "Hmm. Father? No, too formal. Papa? No, too old-fashioned. Daddy?" He grinned. "I kinda like that one."