A/N: This is what happens when I find out that a station near where I live reairs H:LOTS in the morning! Anyways, yeah. H:LOTS isn't mine.

I sat there long after everyone else had already gone. The nurses claimed that visiting hours were over for anyone but family. I told them that I was family, or rather, that I was as far as the Baltimore City Homicide's first shift was concerned. They relented after a while. So I remained where I was, beside my partner, where I should've been all along.

I felt like an idiot. There had been more than just three gunshots. Why hadn't I been hit? I bit back a bitter laugh as I realized that up until then, I had convinced myself that we as murder police were immortal. Invincible, even. Blood on my shoes had quickly and devastatingly proved me wrong. I hated the feeling.

The sound of one of the machines beeping sent me into panic mode, and I looked, silently praying that it wasn't the heart monitor going flatline. It wasn't. But I sat on edge for what seemed like forever, waiting to see how things would go. I felt odd, as if somehow I wasn't myself, but I was. My partner was down, and so were two others. Yet I was still standing. I wondered what the meaning was.

Once I was sure that everything was fine, I allowed myself to get up and walk into the next room. There was Felton, in much the same position Bolander was, though, admittedly, his injuries were less serious. He would be the first one out, with a month or two of physical therapy afterwards. He would be fine. But I sat with him anyway. There was no one else to do so.

I wondered as I looked at him if his family had been notified, if they'd come. The whole squad knew that he'd been having trouble lately; it wasn't exactly a secret. I wondered if maybe there was something that could change that, and wondered if this would be it. Hoped that this would be it.

A different machine beeped this time, but it had the same effect on me. Once more I waited, jumping at the sound of footsteps outside the door. I hoped, prayed, even, that the beeping didn't mean that something was wrong. No one came in, and where moments before I'd felt my heart rate rise, now I found it slowing down again.

Relief flooding over me, I rose to my feet and walked into the next room. Somehow it seemed darker than the other two. I had the feeling I knew why. There was Kay, and it was really her that I was most worried about. Out of the three, hers were definitely the most serious injuries. It was her that I would remain with for the rest of the night.

Sitting down in the empty chair beside the bed, I stared at her, startled to find myself blinking back tears. She looked helpless, vulnerable, even, and a faint smile crossed my face as I realized that if she was awake and knew what I was thinking, she wouldn't hesitate to kick my ass for it. That was just one of the tings I loved about her.

And one of the things that kept me on edge. Every time a machine beeped in this room, I held my breath, unintentionally, waiting. But every time it happened, no one came, and I knew that things were fine. My eyes were closing behind my glasses, and try as I might, I could no longer keep them open.

So I reached out and took one of her hands in both of mine, and leaned back, allowing myself to drift off, grateful that there was still something to keep an eye on those vital signs that meant she was still here with me.