Chapter Text
Perry was hobbling alongside her as she carried his bag. They stopped at the front desk where he checked himself in. Della gave him a calming smile as the nurse brought them down to a room. She went through all the typical questions and little tests-temperature, blood pressure, oxygenation-and she produced a little plastic band which she fastened loosely around Perry's wrist.
"Now, Mr. Mason, you can change into this gown and get comfortable in bed. Mrs. Mason, you can have a seat there, or you can step out in the hall if Mr. Mason would rather have some privacy. We're running on schedule right now, so someone will be in shortly to take some blood and get the IV hooked up." The woman gave them a kind smile before closing the door behind herself on the way out.
"Are you going to leave, Mrs. Mason?" Perry teased, leaning his cane against the hospital bed and shrugging out of his jacket.
Della pulled the metal chair out of the closet and set it up beside the bed. "I don't think you have anything under there that I haven't seen a few hundred times before, Mr. Street," Della retorted. He chuckled and followed the nurse's directions. Della folded his clothes carefully and tucked them into the bag. "Only you would wear a three piece suit to your own knee surgery," she ribbed, rolling his tie and putting it at the top of the bag.
"Dress to impress," he replied, covering himself with the papery blankets. Della opened the door once he was settled. He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back against the inclined bed.
"Everything's going to be okay," she reassured in a whisper, covering one of his hands with hers and pressing a kiss to his temple before taking a seat in the folding chair. "It'll be over before you know it, and then you'll have a few days to relax, and we'll be back in the office on Monday. And your knee won't bother you."
"I've spent my whole life appearing as if I'm not scared of anything. Made a living out of it. Funny thing though, I haven't been able to question my knee into submission, or my doctor either."
Della chuckled and slid her chair closer. "You'll be just fine. They'll give you plenty of pain medicine, and I'll be here when you wake up. They can't kick me out when visiting hours are over now that I'm actually listed as your wife."
Another nurse entered the room and Della spent the next thirty minutes absorbing as much information as possible-his vitals were in a good range, even if his blood pressure was a little high. The doctor stopped in to talk briefly through the procedure one last time and mark the knee they were to operate on with a purple pen.
"It'll be over in no time, Mr. Mason, I promise. And one more thing before we get you off to OR-make sure you remove any jewelry. Necklaces, wedding rings, belly button piercings, everything," he said with a wink at Della. "I don't mean to brag, but you're in good hands. Let's get you on the road to feeling better."
"I was hoping I'd be wearing this when I died," Perry said, pulling the black stone ring off his pinky.
"Perry Mason. You are not going to die. I simply won't allow it." Della stood up, leaned over the hospital bed, and gave him a long kiss. "Now, I'll hold onto this for a few hours, and you can have it back when you wake up." She slipped his ring onto her fourth finger, just beside her own black-stone pinky ring.
The anesthesiologist was the next one through the door.
"Hello, folks. It's time to say goodnight for a few hours." She worked behind Perry's head for a few moments, giving them some semblance of privacy.
"Goodnight, Counselor," she whispered. "I'll see you in just a little bit." He nodded and squeezed her hand. An orderly joined them. "You take good care of him now," Della said. "We've got to be back in court in a few weeks."
"Yes, ma'am," the young man said with a smile.
The anesthesiologist held a mask up in front of Perry. "Take some deep, slow breaths. It'll be over before you know it."
As he breathed through the tube, Della held his gaze until his eyes slipped closed.
00
A complete success, the doctor had reported. No complications. All on schedule. Della was waiting in a small cubicle with Perry's unconscious form now, waiting for the anesthesia to wear off.
No one else would have recognized the low croaking sound as a word, much less a name, but Della knew instantly that he was starting to wake and was calling for her.
"I'm here," she whispered, taking his hand and perching on the edge of the bed. "I'm right here, Perry."
"Della," he murmured, clearer this time. Della brushed her fingers across his forehead. "I didn't die."
She couldn't hold in a laugh. "Of course you didn't, silly. You're just fine."
He continued to look at her, though his eyes couldn't quite focus and kept closing slowly despite his evident wish that they stay open.
"Water?" he croaked. Della reached for the styrofoam cup of tepid water the nurse had left on the tray table and held the straw still while Perry took a few sips.
"You can go back to sleep, darling," she murmured. "I'll stay right here." He nodded in understanding. Della stayed leaning against the edge of the bed for a few moments while she watched his chest rise and fall in the quiet rhythm of sleep.
Perry slept on as they were moved out of the recovery ward and into the room where he'd be spending the rest of his stay. Della had made a quiet call to Paul to assure him that the operation was a success, and then she'd dozed off in the faux leather recliner under the window.
He was watching her with a sleepy but tender gaze when she woke up.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Like some quack of a doctor sawed through the bones in my leg," he retorted. Della rolled her eyes.
"Sounds to me like you're making a very speedy recovery, Counselor," she said, standing and stretching her stiff back. He made a non-commital noise in his throat. "Are you in pain?"
Perry nodded toward the IV. "They came in while you were sleeping and gave me the good stuff. I won't be feeling much of anything for another few hours."
Della smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. "Paul asked after you. I told him it went well. He said he'd call tomorrow some time to keep you busy for a little while," she teased. Perry nodded again and Della saw him starting to slip back into sleep. She covered his hand with his and rubbed it with her thumb.
There was a knock on the door and an orderly poked his head in. "Excuse me, but visiting hours are over. Immediate family only."
"She's my wife," Perry mumbled, taking her hand with surprising strength.
"Oh, of course. Family has thirty more minutes." The man retreated into the hallway and closed the door behind him.
"They'll probably send up a late dinner if you ask the nurse nicely," Della said when Perry's stomach rumbled.
"Hospital food. I'm so excited," Perry deadpanned with his eyes closed.
"You need to keep up your strength. They'll take you off the good stuff by morning and make you swallow pills. It'll make you nauseated if you don't have something in your stomach."
"I'll eat after I'm awake enough to see what I'm eating," he assured.
The night nurse came in to introduce herself and check his vitals. Della wasn't worried-the hospital had an excellent reputation, and Perry was doing fine. Seeing the efficiency of the woman as she took care of Perry made Della feel better about leaving for the night. It was one thing to sleep apart, knowing Perry was off lecturing in New York or advising at the capitol; it was entirely another to know that he was lying in a hospital bed hooked to monitors and IVs.
"The doctor said you can eat anytime, Mr. Mason. I can have some soup and a sandwich sent up if you're hungry," she offered.
"That'll be fine," he agreed, and she was off about her rounds.
Returning to the bedside, Della slipped his wedding ring back onto his pinky.
"In sickness and in health," he said, catching her hand.
"'Til death do us part," she added, tipping his chin up for a kiss. "And that won't be for quite a long time, if I have any say in it." He smiled as she leaned her forehead against his.
She stood up and dug through his suitcase. His slippers, she put at the bedside so they'd be there when he had to get up. There were crutches leaned against the wall, and she knew they'd have him up and around before he went to sleep for the night. She left his book and notepad on the table beside the bed to occupy him if he couldn't sleep. She tucked his bathrobe over the end of the bed. He watched her with affection as she unpacked this bag with the same efficiency as she would his briefcase when they arrived in the courtroom.
"It's almost time for me to go."
He nodded.
"You get some sleep," she said. He nodded again.
"You too, my darling."
"I will," she promised, leaning in to kiss him gently. "I'll be back first thing in the morning. Maybe I can even dig you up a case so we can break you out of here early."
"I'll hold you to that," he said.
Della collected her jacket and purse. "Goodnight, Mr. Street," she said with a smile from the doorway.
"Goodnight, "Mrs. Mason."