To Part 11
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"Straight to bed for you," Peter ordered protectively. "As much as I wanted you home with me, I'm still not sure it was such a great idea for you to leave the hospital so soon. I think you should've spent one more night there."
"I can rest better here at home, and I have you. That's all I need," she insisted, as they walked carefully back into their bedroom.
As he helped her into sleepwear and under the covers, he could see the lines of pain in her pinched and drawn face. "Time for your pain pill, Sweetheart."
"Oh, Peter, no. They just knock me out."
"Dawson and McClanahan both said you need your rest, and that means these pills for a day or two. You promised to follow orders to the letter if they let you come home early."
"Have I ever told you how irritating you can be?"
"At least once a day." He grinned crookedly at her and planted a soft kiss carefully on her lips. "Have I told you how much I love you?"
"At least once a day."
Peter went into the bathroom and returned with a glass of water and the pill container. As he handed the glass to her and shook out a pill, she asked him hopefully, "Couldn't your father mix me up some tea, instead?"
"Probably. But he's not here right now, and he doesn't have a phone, and I am not leaving you alone to go get him. Take the pill."
"You're bossy, too," she sulked, but did as he directed.
He took the glass from her and set it down on the nightstand. "Now let me tuck you in."
She put a hand on his arm. "Hold me. Please?"
"I'm afraid I'll hurt you if I touch you." He took her hands in his and asked anxiously, "Are you sure it's all right?"
"Positive. Just hold me until I fall asleep, OK?"
"But what if I bump you or something?"
"These pills make me so high, I probably wouldn't feel it until next week if you did. Besides, when your arms are around me...I just feel so safe. I...need to feel safe again.Hold me? Please?"
He slipped off his shoes and slid carefully under the covers until he was lying next to her, their bodies spooned together, her back to his chest and his arms secure around her waist.
"When you hold me like this, I know nothing in the world can hurt me." She put her arms trustingly over his and yawned before continuing sleepily, "I knew...we could make this work."
He nestled his head next to hers on the pillow and murmured. "I love you. Now go to sleep." He hadn't realized until just that moment how exhausted he was after spending the previous night sleeping in a chair next to her hospital bed. Closing his eyes wearily, he pulled her closer, and rested in the fact that Kacie was home, and that she was sleeping securely in his arms.
Peter awoke some time later and it took a few groggy minutes for him to realize where he was. Kacie was still sleeping soundly, and he carefully moved away from her, not wanting to disturb her rest. Suddenly, he was wide awake and alert as he thought he heard someone moving around outside their bedroom door. {I didn't hear anything...} he thought to himself. {But I *KNOW* there's someone out there}.
He slid noiselessly from the bed and picked up his gun from where it lay atop the dresser. He padded over to the door in stockinged feet and listened intently. Again, it was more sensing a presence than hearing a sound that had his senses on full alert as he opened the door as quietly as possible.
Peering cautiously around the corner of the doorway, he nosed his way through, and then sagged with relief when he spied his father at work in the kitchen. He grinned ruefully and let the bedroom door softly click behind him. Wandering over to greet the man, he scolded in hushed tones, "Pop, I coulda shot you, ya know." He laid his gun on the kitchen counter and put an arm around Caine's shoulders.
"No, you could not," Caine responded with a gentle smile.
"How did you know we needed...? Never mind, don't tell me." Peter went over to the stove and peeked into the various cooking vessels. As he sniffed, his stomach rumbled noisily.
"I thought that you...might need some food. I did not think that either of you...would be up to cooking tonight."
"Food was the last thing on my mind today, Pop. Until now, that is. Hey, Pop, you didn't happen to bring..." Peter's voice trailed off as he saw the ever-present leather pouch sitting on the counter, fairly bursting at the seams.
"As you can see, yes, I do have my pouch. Lo Si sends his best regards, along with herbs for a special poultice that he says will help reduce swelling." Caine paused in his cooking and asked his son, "How is Kay Cee feeling?"
"Like I was hit by a truck." Both father and son swung their attention to the bedroom doorway, where Kacie stood with her robe sashed about her waist.
Peter rushed to her side and gently reproached her. "Honey, you shouldn't be out of bed."
"It's too lonely in there without you," she explained simply. "And I'm tired of lying around. If I promise to be good, can I stay up with the grown-ups for awhile?"
Peter gave the resigned sigh of the long-suffering. "Sit down at the table here, then." He kept a solicitous arm around her and guided her to a chair, pulling over another one for himself. "Pop made supper for us."
"Oh, good." She held Peter's hand in hers and entwined their fingers. "I was afraid that you would be cooking, and I'm not up to that yet." She yawned as Caine brought her a freshly brewed cup of tea.
After setting down the cup, he scrutinized her face and moved his hands over it, coming close to, but not quite touching, her features.
Kacie sat quietly through his examination, then looked at him somewhat anxiously. "Well?"
"Your cut is already healing, and your nose, though broken, will not need to be reset."
"That's good," she said with obvious relief. "I wasn't looking forward to that procedure."
"And," Caine continued with a twinkle in his eye, "it will not look like Peter's."
Peter reddened at that, even while he chuckled, and Kacie managed a ghost of her normal smile. "I wouldn't have cared," she declared stoutly.
"I would," both men chorused together, and then laughed.
The three finished a quiet supper together, after
which Peter eyed the clock. "Time for another pill, and
back to bed," he told Kacie firmly.
"I don't want to take any more pills. I'm sure Dad here has something I can take instead," she responded just as decisively.
Caine interjected quietly, "I have already checked with Dr. McClanahan about such a thing, and he has given his consent."
Kacie threw a triumphant look at Peter and he grumbled at her, "You're being smug. I hate it when you're smug." Even so, he kissed the hand he had held throughout dinner.
Kacie got to her feet, as did Peter and his father. "I need to use the bathroom." They each reached to take an arm, but she waved them off. "I'm fine. It's not far. I'll manage." She made her way a little stiffly to the bedroom door and disappeared.
Caine watched her go, and smiled at the worried look on Peter's face.
Peter felt his father's eyes and looked at him quizzically. "What?"
"I...used to hover over your mother the same way." Caine opened his mouth to say more, but a keening wail from the direction of the bathroom startled them.
Peter's face blanched, and he left the room on a dead run. He skidded into the bathroom to find Kacie staring at her reflection in the mirror in fascinated horror.
"How can you stand to look at me?" She turned away from him, her long hair falling over to curtain her face. "Don't look at me. I'm-I'm hideous!" She touched a hand to her face. "Ow! It hurts," she complained fretfully.
He slid his arms around her waist from behind and held her comfortingly. "Kacie, Honey, don't...don't," he soothed. "Don't get all worked up. You'll hurt yourself." She made a halfhearted attempt to pull away, but he only held her more tightly. "Honey, you are not hideous; especially not to me. All I see when I look at you is the woman that I love, the woman who was crazy enough to marry me." He kissed the top of her head before whispering, "And crazy enough to stay married to me."
Somewhat mollified, she asked, "Even when I look like a-a-a raccoon?"
"When I look at you, all I can see is my love for you." He rested his cheek on top of her hair a moment.
"I'm such a baby sometimes," she confessed tearfully.
Peter smiled at her dotingly, and tenderly placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "You're my baby, and I intend to do a better job of taking care of you." He rehung the towel and ordered, "Now you finish up in here, and I'll have that tea ready for you that you browbeat me into letting you drink."