That morning had been normal. Sharon had woken up, gotten dressed, had breakfast with Louie and Rusty, and headed off to work.
Work had been normal as well. They'd picked up a case; a young boy had been murdered and found by a neighbor.
The case itself had been solved relatively quickly, but the standoff with the killer had been much longer.
He'd taken a hostage. Held a gun to her head. There wasn't much they could do.
The negotiating lasted over an hour.
Then the shots were fired.
It happened so fast, Sharon wasn't entirely sure what happened.
Then she saw her husband lying on the ground, two bullet holes in his chest.
No. No, no, no, no.
She heard someone scream his name. She hadn't realized it had been her.
She was at his side immediately.
"Louie? Louie, can you hear me," she said softly. He didn't respond.
She removed her jacket, pressing it over his wounds in an attempt to stop the blood.
"Stay with me, Louie. Please, stay with me," she pleaded. Once again, he didn't respond.
Everything happening around her was just white noise. She couldn't focus on anyone but him.
"Captain!" She heard someone yell sharply. She looked up to see Chief Taylor standing over her.
"Captain, it's over. The medics are here," he informed her, holding out his hand in a silent offer to help her up.
She didn't move.
The next thing she knew she was in an ambulance, holding his hand as they pulled away from the scene.
They had wanted her to stay behind and give her statement, but Taylor told them not to pressure her.
She wasn't sure if she'd thanked him or not. Surely he would understand if she hadn't.
She traced her thumb across his palm, memorizing the feel of every line, every crease, every callous.
"Ma'am, you have to go now."
They escorted her to the waiting room. They just left her there, without even telling her anything.
An hour or so later, Rusty arrived and handed Sharon a change of clothes. The outfit she'd been wearing, much like the rest of her, was covered in blood.
When she stood to make her way to the bathroom, he pulled her into a tight embrace. She rested her head against his shoulder and cried.
"Is there anything I can do?" He asked softly when she broke away.
"Will you stay?"
He nodded. "Of course."
They waited, together, for hours. Rusty was holding her hand, trying to comfort her in any way he could. She appreciated it more than he would ever know.
"Captain," a doctor said, jolting them both out of their thoughts. She stood, bracing herself for the news.
"Your husband is in a coma. There isn't much we can do. We aren't sure if he'll wake up."
She felt her body crumple. She was on the floor, sobbing, before she had the chance to respond.
Rusty noticed she was shaking, and knelt down beside her, his arms around her again.
"It'll be okay, Sharon," he whispered. It was the first of many times he would utter those words. He felt tears in his own eyes, but held them back. He couldn't cry, not now. Not while she needed someone to be strong.
Later, when they finally allowed her to see him, she sat by his bed, gently running her hand up and down his arm.
"We haven't even been married that long," she said. It was directed to Rusty, but she didn't look up at him.
"It's better than never being married at all," he offered.
She smiled. He was right about that.