Jason woke up and heard his babies. Two days later he was able to go back to the house. Being pushed to the car in a wheel chair had been a debate. Then being told he HAD to let a woman take care of him upset him. He was still defiently shaking his head to the doctors parting words. "No. I don't need help. I can take care of myself." He says. Sulking a bit as now he had a month or two months of oxygen. He tries to do things for himself yet the kids or Sable reminds him he can't. He didn't want to rest or sit still. Three days later and he was feeling better. So, as it was early morning, he had gone into the kitchen. He was blindly cleaning it. A little at a time. It was almost spotless as he had been at it since one in the morning and it was already seven in the morning. He was panting but pushing himself to get it done. He wanted to repay the help she was giving him. He owed her so much money he needed to work it off. Not rest as doctors stupidly suggested. It was five days after surgery. The clip on oxygen tank in the shape of a CD player clipped onto his pants. Blue jeans with tears in them. He wore only a tank top he had found on his bed. He was trying to finish up the kitchen. The twins still out like a light.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Until Luka woke and saw daddy was gone. He runs into Sable's room. "Daddy got out of bed!" He says in shock. "I don't know where daddy is!" He cries out. Worry filling his entire tone and stance.</span>