|Who's On First?
Author: YankeeFan87 PM
Who'd have thought a softball game could be so dangerous? Shawn gets seriously injured at the championship softball game for the SBPD...Hurt!Shawn and some Shules.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Hurt/Comfort - Shawn S. & Juliet oH. - Chapters: 5 - Words: 7,902 - Reviews: 57 - Favs: 45 - Follows: 77 - Updated: 11-01-11 - Published: 06-11-11 - id: 7074117
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Stupid snowstorm in October...I've been without power since Saturday night. Without heat, without water, without electricity, and without internet. Horrible! So that's my explanation for not writing/posting. I'm using Starbucks' internet right now, so I figured I would post whatever I have so far. Thank you so much for all of your reviews! Sorry if I haven't responded, but lack of internet makes it hard. Thanks again! I hope you're still enjoying :)
Shawn slept straight through the night, hardly stirring at all. Gus, Henry, and Juliet had taken turns dozing on the two cots that the nurses had provided them with, but none of them were able to get much rest. Even though they knew Shawn's prognosis was good, it was still hard not to think of worst-case scenarios. They wouldn't be happy until Shawn was out of the hospital, acting like his old hyper self.
The second time Shawn woke up was much less stressful than the first, and Henry marveled at his son's ability not to panic. Though Shawn had needed a few minutes to remember everything that had happened, he didn't fight the respirator or try to move around too much. Doctor Henderson had gone home for the day, but his colleague, Doctor Jillian O'Sullivan, had been filled in on Shawn's condition and one of the nurses immediately sent for her.
"Hi, Shawn, I'm Doctor O'Sullivan," she told him, checking his vitals. "Doctor Henderson noted that you could have the respirator taken out as long as I decided you were strong enough." Jillian waited a moment, checking over Shawn's chart.
"And?" Juliet prompted when the doctor hadn't spoken.
Jillian smiled. "Everything looks good," she said brightly. Shawn smiled as best as he could with the tube down his throat, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up that drew laughs from the others in the room. "I'm going to have a nurse come and set everything up, and I'll be right back."
"How's the headache?" Henry asked once the doctor had left.
Shawn gave another thumbs up, but it was obvious to the others in the room that that wasn't exactly the case.
"Shawn?" Juliet prodded. "Scale of one to ten." Shawn knew that tone of voice – Juliet was serious. So he relented and help up three fingers.
"Just a three?" Henry said a little too loudly, smirking when Shawn winced, hand going to his head. "That's what I thought." Shawn groaned, expressing his annoyance at his father, but held up five fingers on his other hand as well. "Eight, That sounds more like it," Henry said concerned, his voice much lower this time. "We'll make sure the doctor gives you something for the pain," he reassured him.
Shawn wished he could protest. He was so sick of sleeping. Still, he wasn're sure if being conscious was worth the headache he was currently experiencing, so he nodded and closed his eyes, waiting for the nurse to return.
He didn't have to wait long. "We're going to need you all to step back," a firm voice ordered the group. "Shawn?" the same voice asked, much gentler now. "I'm Angela. We just need you to stay awake for a few minutes more." Shawn nodded, forcing his eyes open. Juliet stood closest to him, while Gus and his dad stood towards the back of the room, surely forced there by the nurse. He counted three additional technicians in the room but was too tired to figure out their roles. "This is Gene," Angela told him, as if reading his mind. "He's a respiratory therapist and he'll be the main person removing you from the respirator." Shawn gave Gene a half-hearted wave.
"His headache's also bad," Shawn saw his father stepping forward, addressing the nurse in his no-nonsense manner.
"Doctor O'Sullivan already ordered more pain meds," Angela returned simply.
"Okay, Shawn," Gene said once everything was set up. "On the count of three, I'm going to need you to cough very deeply, okay? We'll pull out the tube, but the coughing will help us." Shawn nodded, though he was clearly panicking. His heart monitor began to beep faster and he reached for the tube again, suddenly overwhelmed with the fear that he was choking on it.
"Shawn!" Juliet this time. She stepped forward and took his hand. "They're going to take it out. Right now, but you need to calm down." Shawn forced himself to stop struggling, but his eyes conveyed his fear.
"Let's get this over with as quickly as possible," Angela said, motioning for Juliet to step back. But Shawn had a death-grip on her hand and wouldn't release it.
"I'll stay out of the way," Juliet promised, looking back at Shawn. Apparently deciding it was more important that the patient stay calm, Angela agreed, but only after making sure Juliet would listen to the professionals and move out of the way if necessary. Juliet promised, taking her place beside Shawn's bed and squeezing his hand. "I'm here, Shawn," she said quietly, and the relief was evident in Shawn's eyes.
"Okay then, let's get started," Gene said, rounding the bed. "As I said, Shawn, on the count of three, I need you to cough deeply. It may be uncomfortable, but we'll try to be as quick as possible."
Shawn nodded once, then squeezed Juliet's hand as the other techs surrounded the bed, preparing themselves for the tube removal. Gene started counting down and Shawn did as he was told, coughing and gagging as the tube was forcefully pulled from his throat. He continued to cough raggedly even when the obstruction was gone and he felt Juliet's hand rubbing his back as he gasped for air.
"Good job, Shawn," Gene said, stepping back to allow Henry and Gus access. "Your throat will be sore for awhile, so I recommend eating ice chips and drinking water to help soothe it." Angela handed Juliet a cup of ice chips as Gene and the other technicians left.
"How's your headache, Shawn?" Angela asked, hearing Henry grumbling something from behind her. "I need to hear it from him," she explained patiently.
Shawn coughed again, trying to answer but finding his throat too dry. "Here," Juliet said, scooping up an ice chip with a spoon and holding it to his mouth. Shawn took it gratefully, swallowing the ice before trying to talk again. Even then, his voice still sounded like sand paper.
"Bad," he said, wanting to limit the amount of words he spoke. The coughing had certainly not helped the headache one bit, and as much as he wanted to stay awake and talk to his friends, he was having trouble thinking past the pain. Angela nodded, addressing the others.
"I'm going to give him something for the pain, but I'm going to have Doctor O'Sullivan check on him in a bit, just to make sure everything's still going well." She injected the meds into his IV and left the room.
Shawn could feel his eyes drooping, but he was fighting the pull of sleep. "Is that any better, kid?" Henry asked gently.
"Ye...yeah." Shawn grunted. "Tell..." Shawn broke off, coughing.
"What is it, Shawn?" Gus asked.
Shawn tried again. "Tell Huggins. Nice...hit," Shawn finally closed his eyes, falling asleep to the soft laughter of his dad and his best friends.
"So he's been awake?" Shawn chose not to open his eyes right away, wanting to figure out who was in his room. That definitely wasn't his father's or Gus's voice. "Has he said anything?" Lassie? Shawn thought, confused. What the hell was Lassie doing in his hospital room?
"They still have him on some pretty strong painkillers." No question, that was Juliet's voice. "His head was hurting him pretty badly both times he woke up."
"Did they...did the doctor say when he'd be better?" If Shawn didn't know any better, he would have sworn that Lassiter sounded concerned. Shawn didn't hear a response, so he assumed Juliet shook her head. He cracked an eye open, trying to see for himself.
"Shawn?" it had only been for a second, and his eye had only opened to a mere slit, but of course Juliet had caught him. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to make it seem like he'd just woken up.
"Hey," he croaked out, smiling and scanning the room. Gus and his father were nowhere to be seen. It was just Juliet and Lassiter. "Lassie!" Shawn said as loudly as he could.
"Spencer," Lassiter returned, all business-like and serious. "Just came to make sure you were behaving yourself." He stood there, shifting on his feet, and Shawn could tell there was something else that was bothering him. Knowing there was no way the detective would let it out, Shawn used his tried-and-true tactic of pissing him off.
"Well, technically, it's your fault I'm here," he paused, coughing lightly. "If you had been a better pitcher..." he trailed off when Lassiter's face didn't reflect his annoyance. Instead, Shawn saw guilt.
"Shawn!" Juliet scolded lightly from beside him.
"Whoa, Lassie, I'm just kidding. Do you really think this was your fault?"
Lassiter didn't answer right away, and when he did he refused to look Shawn in the eye. "Huggins is the fire department's worst hitter, and yet when I'm pitching he's able to hit a bullet like he's...well like he's a good hitter."
"Babe Ruth? Ted Williams? Mickey Mantle?" Shawn filled in for him. "You couldn't come up with one name?"
Lassiter shrugged. "I'm not really a baseball fan. Now if it was a gun sport..." he trailed off when he felt O'Hara's and Spencer's eyes on him in disbelief. "Whatever, you get the point! If I had been a better pitcher, this wouldn't have happened."
Shawn laughed, "The whole point of slow-pitch softball is to let them hit it. Sure, some people throw curve balls or sliders, but those are the ridiculously hardcore people who take it far too seriously. And you're too busy catching bad guys for that." Lassiter smiled a little and Shawn took that as a sign to continue. "It was luck, Lassie. Good luck for Huggins and bad luck for me. But it wasn't anybody's fault. And I'm already feeling better." That last statement was slightly undermined when Shawn broke off into a coughing fit, but he was still pretty sure he had gotten through to Lassiter. Juliet poured a glass of water for him and helped him drink it.
"You probably shouldn't be trying to talk too much," Juliet scolded lightly. Shawn nodded in agreement, lying back against the pillows.
"I should get back to the station," Lassiter said after a few minutes. "The chief said she'd be here later, but she wanted me to tell you to get better. Not too soon, though. We've been enjoying the quiet at the station." Shawn chuckled at that. "Glad you're okay, Spencer," he said, turning and leaving.
Juliet pulled a chair up beside Shawn's bed. "That was nice of you. Saying that stuff to Lassiter."
Shawn shrugged. "It really wasn't his fault. Besides, I remember getting hit...and I can remember him helping with the paramedics."
Juliet nodded. "Yeah, he did. You should have heard him ordering everyone around. Pretty scary," she said, smiling.
"I bet. Where're my dad and Gus?"
"I forced Gus to go home for a bit. His back was hurting him from sleeping on the hospital cots. He's not used to sleeping in police cars or uncomfortable department couches like me and your dad are. And he was starting to smell." Shawn laughed, his eyes closing. "And your dad went to pick up your mom from the airport."
Shawn opened his eyes at that. "My mom's coming?"
Juliet nodded. "Of course she's coming, Shawn. She got on a flight as soon as she heard about your accident."
"This should be interesting," Shawn said sleepily. "She always hated when I played sports. Used to say I would crack my head open."
Juliet leaned forward, kissing Shawn lightly on the forehead. "Maybe she's psychic too."
Short, I know, but I don't know when I'll have internet next. Please review!