The Name of Life

Bang, bang, you're dead

A famous phrase that holds truth in some lives. The lives of people who hold the guns, the lives of people who are killed with the guns, and finally those who are on both ends. The police are people who devote their lives to protecting and serving others. Sometimes they have to protect people with guns. Guns. Tools that can be both for protecting and killing; so what is their real purpose, then? What purpose were they made to serve? Protect a man's family, or fell his enemies?

"Excuse me, are you here for Jessica Angell?" A nurse asks, sticking her head out the door.

Several heads snap up, all looking weary. Three men and two women. One man in particular, dark haired and blue eyed, is just about going white with worry. His face is that of a man worried for love. His love. "Yes."

"She just got out of surgery."

Breaths held.

"She's going to be just fine."

Breaths released.

One woman, honey blond hair to her shoulders and doe-brown eyes, has the distinct afterglow of a new mother. She doesn't look like a mother at first glance passing in a hallway, but her eyes are kind and her face sweet. She lets out a sigh/gasp of relief and leans over.

A man with spiky hair, the same sandy color, lets out a similar sigh and pulls the blond woman close. His eyes are squeezed shut, but no longer in worry. He rubs the woman's shoulders and whispers words of comfort into her hair.

Another woman lets out a sigh of relief, muffled by an elegant hand covering her pink lips. Her olive skin is pale in the evening hospital light but some color is returning to it. She lets her head roll to the side to rest on the shoulder of the man sitting beside her. Her caramel colored curls brush against their cheeks and her exotic green eyes shut happily.

The man sitting beside the older woman closes his eyes and sucks in a breath gently. His short brown hair and unrestful blue eyes are brought out further by his pale skin and the shadows that creep upon his just now settling features. He notices the curly haired woman rest her head on his shoulder and his thin lips twitch to show a tiny smile and a ghost of a scar that nicked his upper lip's left corner. He rests his head on hers in turn and they both let their breaths fall rhythmically in time with each other's.

The last man, still in shock, finally lets out a shaky breath. His startlingly clear blue eyes are shining with tears-of anxiety or happiness no one can tell...possibly both. He runs a hand through his short black hair and looks up for a moment, thanking the Angels in heaven for bringing his Angell back to earth with him.

"You're all free to see her, though I can't promise she'll wake up." The nurse says, breaking them all of their dazes. "We've notified her family; they're on their way."

"Yes, thank you." The dark haired man stands first, nodding his deep thanks and dashing off. The others just smile warmly-and maybe a tad wistfully-after him. They get up to follow, all of their bones snapping loudly. The older man is especially stiff, cracking his back loudly and earning a smirk from the green eyed woman beside him. He ducks his head, smiling embarrassedly. The blond pair trades knowing looks and starts down the hall, his arm around her. The older pair starts after them; her with strides long and strong, and him with his hand at the small of her back.

Angell lay in her bed, surrounded by white and illuminated by the single light that stands beside the bed. Her body is motionless and limp under the crisp sheet that wrinkles around her, but she's still with them.

Him.

He sits at her bedside and takes her cold hand in his. It's just as soft as he remembers, just a little colder than when it would be as they brushed hands at work. Her face is serene and when he takes her hand and holds it tight he could swear he sees the faintest smile tug at her lips. He smiles weakly, fondly, at the smile he knows so well. The same that would look up at him in the early mornings or after a long shift. The same smile that greeted him whether he was on top of the world or a bit pissed about a case; she always offered him that same smile. Now, it was still the same, just a little weaker, but just as the sun as it rises, it would become brighter given time.

The blond pair comes up behind him, each putting a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. The man gives him a friendly smile, showing just how close the two men are. The woman gives him a smile that shows him she knows how he feels and that she's there for him. They all share feelings and thoughts in silence, letting their eyes show their meanings. She lets her eyes tell him that she knows how scary it is to think you've lost the person you love the most, and that she will happily be his shoulder to lean on. His eyes say they've been the best of friends-practically brothers-longer than they care to remember, and that he doesn't have to act tough around him; they both know when it comes to the women their lives it's never shameful to cry or need support.

The older couple stands back for a moment, looking at their friends; the family...in a sense, their children. In the strange rolls they play, they are the parents that protect their children and each other, just not themselves-much to the other's chagrin. She smiles upon them warmly, letting the warmth of family-an almost unfamiliar feeling-overtake her. He smiles and puts a hand on her shoulder. They look at each other, like many times before, sharing a conversation silently. She knows he's there for her, and she couldn't be more thankful to have him in her life. He knows he couldn't live or even imagine his life without her, and that he needs her more than he realized in the past.

"Can you hear me, Jess?" The sapphire eyed man whispers tenderly. He turns briefly to see the supportive smiles of their friend-?...family. "Everyone's here to see you. Your dad and brothers are on their way too. You're gonna be okay, Jess."

Although he gets no response the air is getting lighter, and their smiles are coming to their eyes. The room is no longer sodden with sorrow, but rather filled with hope. They all know things are turning up.

"We're all gonna be right 'ere for you, Jess. We're all here for you." He kisses her hand, then brushes her bangs away and kisses her forehead. "I'm not leaving you, ever. I love you, my Angell."

Again, there is no response, but they can see her smile now.

The light pouring through the window is golden and giving everything and everyone inside the room a heavenly glow. The divinity of the scene is only further artistically accentuated by the purity of their surroundings. The flowers sitting on tables are not simply tokens but true signs of their care. The sounds of the early morning hospital visitors and birds are faint and provide only background music for the painting suitable picture.

Rich chocolate locks are splayed over a white pillow, brushing against soft cream skin that's beginning to flush with life again. Her dark eyelashes are fanned from her closed eyes like cards in a hand, fluttering every once in a while as she dreams. As she lies in the bed peacefully, her hand is the only thing not encased in white cotton as he grips it tight.

He is still asleep, having finally given into exhaustion halfway into the night. He holds her hand in a strong grip, afraid of letting go again. Although his mind is at ease, he's still on alert should anything try to take her from him again. Still, there is a smile on his face. It's not his usual, quirky smile, but it is still there, and still a sign that he is happy.

The blond woman is sleeping lightly, her mind constantly aware of her husband's comforting presence beside her. She's grown into not being able to sleep unless he's there with her. Although her petite form is uncomfortable in the large chair, having him there allows her to sleep. Her subconscious is telling her she must return to her baby, but she also knows this is where she's needed most. Her daughter is in safe hands with their friends.

His head is resting on hers, making sure if she were to move he'd know; she won't go anywhere. He is at ease in his sleep, dreaming of his wife and baby, though his back is starting to ache in the chair. Part of him wants to get back to them right away, but the other part wants to sleep just a little longer next to the woman he loves as they're allowed a little more time of joy. In their lives, they see so much darkness, he wants to savor the light, so he gently pulls her closer.

The woman with curls is beginning to stir, her eyes fluttering more often than the other's. Her goddess like features are beginning to come to life again as her mind sharpens. She doesn't want to wake up just yet, though, so she settles on shifting her lithe form and burying her face into the shoulder of the man next to her. Feeling him drape an arm around her as though to lay a cloth that would protect her from everything hurtful in the world, she smiles.

The man has already begun to drift in and out of sleep, as he usually does, but he has no dead body to attend to, which motivates him to stay. He feels the energy of the golden light seeping in and of lives around him. Five lives. Two sandy haired people, two dark haired people, and one caramel curly haired person; the woman beside him. He feels her nuzzle his shoulder and smiles lovingly, wrapping an arm around her tiny form, wishing to protect her as always. This time, though, he needs only to guard her from another early morning.

The nurse from before recognizes them and is about to enter when she sees them all so peaceful, and decides to leave them. Seeing them the night before she remembers the angst written over their faces, and more importantly, the relief that washed over them knowing one of their own was alright. She deals with death just as much as they dio, and without belittling either of their jobs, they both have to deal with people slipping through their fingers. They, however, are a bit different.

The police are people who devote their lives to protecting and serving others. She knows that. Which is why they never liked having police officers in their hospitals. She seems to recall even having the other two women in there at least once. The blond may have been in once, for a snake bite or something. She vaguely remembers a curly haired Greek woman who'd been in a number of years ago after her boyfriend had attacked her. Normally she wouldn't be able to remember something like that from so long ago, but something about the woman's face has stuck in her mind. She walks on with a smile.

Police are people who devote their lives to others. This time, though, that selfless life was not given up completely.