Acts of Courage

Author's Note: My tenth story! Wow, we've come a long way, baby. Hope you enjoy. :)

As a member of the NYPD, for years now, Sergeant Anthony Renzulli had proudly worn three bar medals on his chest, just above the sergeant's badge that he kept polished to a brassy glow.

The first medal, of course, was his American flag bar, followed by the black WTC medal that had been provided to all officers who saw service at the World Trade Center. That had been his proudest one for years, until back in '03 when he'd received the Meritorious Police Duty medal. He really hadn't done anything out of the ordinary for it. In fact, all he'd done was his job. He had been first on the scene of a shootout between an armed 22-year-old kid who'd just held up a McDonalds on Water Street, right in front of One New York Plaza of all places, and two cops who had been injured while exchanging fire. He'd come upon the bleeding suspect on the sidewalk while the kid's back was to him, his gun pointed cockeyed in the air. Renzulli had bowled the kid over from behind without a second thought, subduing him by kneeling on his back while radioing for help. It had been a thrilling moment, an amazing commendation, and he wasn't ashamed to say that when he walked past store windows ever since, he liked to catch a quick look at the colorful reflection of the bars on his chest. They spelled out his best moments as a cop. He didn't have as much decoration as some, but he didn't do the job for honors, after all. He was damn proud of who he was, what he had.

Now, he bore a slender medal of green, white and navy blue that carried a much different meaning behind its place of honor on his chest.

Renzulli was no idiot. He had added the medal to his badge right away, because he could never get away with not wearing it; not with all the pomp and circumstance bestowed upon him when he received it. It looked just like his MPD medal, except this one had a silver star in the center. It was the fourth-highest honor in the NYPD, behind only the Medal of Honor, the Police Combat Cross, and the Medal for Valor, and the guys who got those were often already dead. This particular commendation was called, simply, an Honorable Mention, but it was awarded for something much more impressive than that - an "act of extraordinary bravery, intelligently performed in the line of duty at imminent and personal danger to life."

Lord, how his wife had hugged him tight over those words.

But they left his stomach hollow, his heart sick.

There was no getting around the fact that he had done nothing to deserve this. This was a medal of shame he would be wearing, now until he retired, and even then he would see the badge in its case at home and see that damn citation winking at him, reminding him of everything he didn't do. He'd gotten an Honorable Mention for standing on the sidewalk, watching like a buffoon as his young partner darted into the flames of a burning building. Jamie had been lost in the choking smoke and he had stood there and stared, only galvanized into action by the sudden and chilling thought of how he would explain it to the commissioner if the kid didn't make it back out.

He had been willing to wait for the FDNY. Jamie had not.

He had put his own life first, ahead of the child's. Jamie had not.

And now, Renzulli was the one walking around with his face in the papers, handshakes on every corner, an Honorable Mention on his chest.

Jamie was not.

He was shamed. He knew he was wearing it all over his face, but he couldn't help it. The smile he wore was stretched, uneasy, and the medal on his uniform felt like a bar of iron, a scarlet letter.

And like his cracking smile, he would wear that medal every day for the rest of his professional career.

The first day back on patrol with Jamie, the Honorable Mention in its place of high-visibility display, Jamie had noticed right away. They had run into each other in the locker room and his eyes had flicked to it, and Renzulli had braced himself for annoyance, anger, frustration. Instead, the corner of his mouth had quirked up in a little smile - what was that all about? - and he hadn't said a word until they were in the car.

A copy of the New York Post was folded in Jamie's lap. He picked it up and whapped Renzulli in the chest with it. Renzulli jumped about a foot. "That looks good on you, Sarge," Jamie said, nodding towards the medal.

Renzulli glared at him as best he could while keeping his eyes on the road. "Don't be hitting me with stuff while I'm driving, kid."

Jamie shrugged. "Just saying."

"I don't want to talk about it." He scowled.

Jamie glanced over. "You're upset? About the commendation?"

"Well, how should I feel about it, Reagan? I'm wearing a damn award for something I didn't do. Yeah, I'm kinda upset."

"You don't have to wear it. You could always keep it in a-"

"Gonna look pretty stupid if I don't wear a commendation the commissioner gave me." Renzulli shot his rookie partner a baleful look. "Listen, just shut up about it, would ya?"

Jamie glanced down at the paper in his lap. "The story's on page fourteen."

"What story?"

"Your ceremony at the precinct yesterday. They got a nice shot of you and-"

"Kid, I said shut up about it!"

Jamie pursed his lips, looking out the window absently for a moment before glancing back. "Can I say one more thing?"

"No, you can't."

Jamie lapsed into silence, his gaze going back to the window. Renzulli flexed his hands around the steering wheel and ground his teeth as the silence grew thicker. "All right, fine," he finally groused. "What?"

Jamie shrugged again. If Renzulli didn't know better, he would almost say the kid looked embarrassed. "I was just thinking... you know, when you wear that medal, you shouldn't think about the baby or the fire."

"Kinda hard not to."

Jamie looked over. "You didn't save the baby's life. But, y'know... you did save mine."

"I-" But he couldn't finish the sentence. He honestly had never thought of that, and from the touch of fondness in his partner's eyes, Jamie knew it. And Renzulli thought back to his meeting with the commissioner in that plush office, the words he had spoken.

"For the past six months, on occasion, Officer Reagan has been pulled off of duty with you to work undercover. I can't tell you the nature of it yet; no need to know, but... it involves some pretty serious business and some very bad people."

Renzulli had never doubted that his partner was the real deal. Looking at him in the passenger seat, still so fresh-faced, so damn young, it made something twist painfully in his chest. This kid, who had already lost so much, given up so much. This kid, who was risking so much. Jamie Reagan was the hero here, no doubt about it.

But if he could shoulder the burden of a good deed he had never done to keep the kid safe, he would do it. It wasn't exactly a courageous act, but he had been asked, and his job was to serve.

So Renzulli had smiled, just a little, when he returned his eyes to the road. From now on, the Honorable Mention on his chest would not be a burden, but his badge of courage.

And he would wear it, always, for his partner.