I'm still not owning the characters. All rights belong to others. I post this with a clear conscience, with no 'criminal intent'.
This is an older story, first time posted. It was inspired by Vincent D'Onofrio's real life collapse a couple of years ago.
It was never supposed to happen.
"You're not supposed to step in front of bullets. Not for me. Not for anyone." I'm yelling at her as I cradle her limp body in my arms, watching the snow land on her lashes, in her hair, watching the snow already on the ground change from white to pink to red in seconds. It reminds me of the sno-cones I used to get as a kid, as the sweet red syrup was poured over the shaved ice. The smell that slams into me now is not the sweet sugary smell of cherry, but the warm coppery odor of blood and I turn my head away, the nausea overwhelms me. Smell doesn't usually affect me so viscerally. But this is my partner. This is Alex.
Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Was that the silent screaming of my brain extorting her to wake? Was I still screaming aloud at her?
In the distance, I hear sirens. You'll be fine. She shivers in my arms; a quiet moan escapes her pale lips. "Shh. They're coming. You'll be fine." I can barely hear my own voice. Am I speaking aloud?
Next thing I know, someone is trying to take her from me. I protest, clinging to her as tightly as I can, but she's pulled from my grasp. Everything is in slow motion, moving at three-quarter speed. I'm being led to the back of a vehicle, its doors open wide. An ambulance, I'm sure. Just what I need... No, wait! It's what Alex needs. I'm fine.
A blanket drops over my shoulders; I pull it around me and hold onto it tightly. It's my anchor, she's my anchor.. Hold on. A familiar voice is asking questions. I can't put a name to the voice. I hear another voice answer. Oh, wait. That's me. What did I say? I look down at my hands that are reddened from the cold, reddened and stained with my partner's blood. I realize I'm colder inside than out, and no blanket can warm me.
"Bobby? Can you hear me?"
Blinking rapidly, against the bright light shining in my eyes, I try to focus on something, anything. The fluorescent light above me casts strange shadows, frightening shadows. When did I get to the hospital?
The light disappears as a blurry face appears in my line of sight. "Detective, can you hear me?" A woman's voice – Doctor? Lawyer? Or Indian Chief? – keeps asking.
I want to answer, I do, but I can't complete the circuit between brain and mouth. All my energy is being spent in an effort to keep me breathing.
Another blurry figure passes into view, only to disappear at the urging of the woman. "Please, sir. I need you to wait outside..."
I turn my head to follow the blurry figures as they exit the room. The day's events come crashing back on me. I remember everything in vivid detail.
She cuts the vehicle's steering wheel sharply and angles the large SUV into a space I wouldn't have even attempt to park in.
"What?" She asks, clearly perplexed, by my startled look. I have always marveled at Alex's steady calm and cool ability.
It's a simple witness interview, a follow up. We climb the steps outside the brownstone building. On the landing, Alex is standing slightly in front of me. She leans to the side to press the doorbell. A gunshot shatters the side light window. The bullet catches her in the shoulder. Without thinking, I pull my weapon and fire through the unopened door. I hear a muffled thud.
"Bobby! Stay with us! Breathe for me Bobby!"
Does she really have to keep yelling at me? It doesn't help. I still can't draw air into my lungs to save my life. Ha ha, pun intended. My vision draws inward and slowly darkens. Finally, I begin to feel warm.
"...he's in shock, and he needs to stay calm and quiet, Captain. He needs that more than you need answers. I will keep you informed. I will let you see him as soon as I feel he's able." Why is Deakins here? Oh, yeah.
The stern voice returned, and I open my eyes. There is an oxygen mask on my face. I hate those things, but it's feeding sweet cool air to my starved lungs. I suddenly have a new appreciation for it.
"Well, hello there Detective. I'm Doctor Kirkus. You gave us a bit of a scare. How do you feel?"
"Like a truck backed over me." I hear a beep next to my ear. "Alex?" The beep quickens. Great. A heart monitor. Taking several deliberate breaths, I try to stay calm.
"The surgery is going well. But I need you to rest. I have a feeling you haven't had much sleep for a while."
"I'm fine," I tell her. Of course, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be after passing out? "Just want to see her. I need to see…" I try sitting up again, feeling a tug on my left hand. Damn. First, a heart monitor, now an IV.
"Sorry, Detective. I need you to lie back. She won't be out of surgery for a while yet, until then I need you to rest. Would you like some water? You can have a few sips, if you'd like."
"'…kay." A weight settles on my chest, I'm tired and cold again. After a few sips of water, I let myself drift off to warm darkness.
I open my eyes again, my surroundings changed. I'm in a private room, bright with sunlight, slightly curled up on a comfortable bed. Raising my head, I see a curtain drawn on my right side. There's shuffling on the other side. "Hello?" I croak. My mouth is so dry, I'm afraid my tongue will disintegrate. At least there's no oxygen mask.
A hand parts the curtain, revealing Captain James Deakins. "Welcome back, Detective Goren." He smiles sadly. "Don't look so surprised."
Strangely, he looks rumpled. He never looks rumpled. How long has he been here? Is it morning? I've lost all track of time, and I feel like a wrung out towel. "Captain?" The rest of my question, unasked.
He steps closer to my bed, pouring water into an empty cup. "Here, drink this." Pulling over a chair, he smiles patiently. "Seems you need to take better care of yourself, Bobby."
A snort comes out before I can stop it. "I'm fine, really. How's Alex?"
"She's in recovery now. Everything went well. The two of you will be back out there before you know it." Deakins leans forward in the chair, elbows on his knees. "The doctor tells me you've pretty much run yourself into the unforgiving ground. Again."
I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks. Excuses pop up and are discarded before they're even uttered. Deakins would see through them all anyway. Besides, he would just ask Alex anyway. "I didn't mean to, but you know how it is... Just got busy, that's all. There's always so much to do." This, of course, is an understatement. My stomach is churning just thinking about all the things left undone. The cup of water appears under my nose again. I drink deeply, draining the cup.
"Would you believe Doctor Kirkus wants to keep you here for the next few days? She thinks you're headed for some sort of physical breakdown." Placing the empty cup back on the bedside table, he chuckles softly.
I laughed aloud. Like that explains everything. "But, there's so much left to…" Now I'm thinking of all there is to do - the debriefing - shooting review, IAB, reports, Alex…
"For a few days. But, if you keep zoning out like that, your stay may become permanent."
There was a commotion behind the curtain. Deakins reachs over and throws it open, sending it smoothly around its track. They're wheeling in another patient. We look on as a small collection of nurses, and doctors fly around the bed hooking up machines, transferring the patient to the bed. When they finally cleared, I try to get a look at the person on the bed.
"Alex!" Before I knew what I was doing, I was struggling out of my bed. Someone wearing pink blocked my line of sight. "Wait! I have to see…" Sliding off my bed, my legs refuse to support me. In a further act of mutiny, my head spins, causing me to grab hold of the nearest object. It just happens to be James Deakins. I feel the IV dislodge and ignore it.
"Please stay still, Detective. She's right here. She's not going anywhere. You can see her soon. You need to rest up a little longer, and let the IV do its job." Dr. Kirkus grasps my other arm and helps hold me upright.
Everything comes into sharp focus as I use my anger and fear as fuel. I have to keep upright to make a point. "That. Is. My. Partner! She took a bullet for me, and I have to know she's all right!" I shake them both loose and unsteadily walk over to her bed.
"Captain Deakins, I think this was a mistake. I'm going to have Detective Eames moved to anoth…"
"No!" Both the Captain and I answer as one.
"Look, Dr. Kirkus, he's not going to do anything you want him to until he knows she's fine." Deakins drew a deep breath, standing akimbo. "Besides, I'm going to need to keep an eye on them both, and this is the easiest way to do it."
The woman frowned, weighing her options. I sure as hell wasn't going anywhere, so she might as well keep everything as is. She turns and points at me, "All right, but I want you to stay in that bed, Detective Goren. If your vitals signs improve by tomorrow, you can go home. But until then, bed rest. I mean it."
"My vital signs? There's nothing wrong with…"
"Your body has been running on fumes. In fact, I don't know how you didn't keel over sooner. And judging from your test results, this has been coming for a long time."
I was sure I looked like a deer caught in headlights, and Captain Deakins passed a hand over his face. It's not his fault. I have a need for perfection that is almost pathological. Good enough really isn't good enough.
A groan pulls my attention away from my boss. Alex's hand wanders over to mine, weakly grasping my wrist. Her eyes flutter open, and her lips move. I leaned over, straining to hear. "Go to sleep, Bobby," she whispers. Then she was asleep again.
"You heard the woman," Deakins said. Does he have Superman's superior hearing, or a Steve Austin bionic ear? Or is he talking about what the doctor had said? Instead of elaborating, Deakins checks his watch. "I don't want to hear a report from you or see you downtown until Monday, Bobby." He replaces the chair against the wall, and walks over to Alex's bed and gazes down at his injured detective. I realize he looks tired and worn out in a way I've never seen him before.
"Monday? That's five days from now! How…"
"Four days, Bobby, four days. It's Thursday. Take it easy, rest. There is plenty of time, the four days will pass in a flash. I'll see you soon." Then he was gone.
I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. "We'll bring you some breakfast; I think you can handle some real food, even if it's hospital food. Then it's bed rest for the rest of the day." Is she still here?
"Fine. I'm not… not really hungry. But… chocolate milk, if you've got chocolate milk, that would be great." My mother always let me have chocolate milk when I'd stay home sick from school.
Dr. Kirkus smiles. "We'll see what we can find. Nurse Sampson could you.." She asks as she leads me back to my bed.
"This shouldn't take long, I'll be right back with breakfast and chocolate milk." Nurse Sampson reaches out and assists Dr. Kirkus get me into the bed.
Dr. Kirkus takes the opportunity to do a quick exam. She shines a light into my eyes. "Good. Very good." She warms the end of the stethoscope between her palms. "Lean forward, please. A deep breath. Another. And one more please." She watches the heart rate monitor. "No fever, your lungs are clear, your heart rate and BP are much better than when you came in." She enters a few notes in my chart and snaps it close. "I'll check in on you again in a couple of hours, but until then…"
"I know, I know. Rest." I give her my best I'm-gonna-stay-right-here smile, and wait for her to leave. She adjusts Alex's IV and glances at my partner's heart monitor. "Your partner is going to be fine. Is she talking to me or to Alex?
As soon as the door eases into place behind Dr. Kirkus as she leaves, I hop off the bed and make a beeline for my partner. Taking her hand in mine, I try to think of positive things.
I hope you can hear me. I'm glad you're going to get better, and I'm not going anywhere. I need you to get better so I can yell at you later…
Her hand tightens under mine, and her lips twitch. Good, somehow she knows. Everything will be fine, I promise her. I glance over to the window. It's snowing again...