Healey stormed down the prison corridor, practically feeling the rage emanating from every pore of his body. Two hours in a hospital with an unconscious Red and a long talk with her doctor later, he now only had one goal- Piscatella. As he turned the corner, he was shaken out of his thoughts by a familiar voice.
"Healey!" he looked up to see Caputo walking towards him, "what the hell is going on? I hear we have an inmate in hospital?"
Healey walked up to a door, kicked it open with as much force as he could muster and was swiftly followed in Caputo. Piscatella looked up from his desk in confusion.
"why don't you ask him?" Healey pointed an accusing finger at the wide eyed Hulk behind the desk.
"Well?" Caputo asked.
"The inmate was being insubordinate, I had to take action, sir." He stated matter of factly.
"Who?" Caputo asked looking between the two men.
"Inmate Resnikof"
"Jesus!" he brought a hand to his already sweating brow.
"She couldn't move because her back had evidently gotten worse," Healey explained, "so your Captain thought it would be wise to punch her in the back, rendering her unconscious, and possibly paralysed!".
"Jesus Christ, Piscatella!"
"With all due respect, how was I supposed to know her back was a genuine complaint?"
"EVERYONE and their mother knows about Red's bad back," Caputo exclaimed, "the woman never stops moaning about it!"
Healey reached into his pocket and extracted a piece of paper, "I gave you this when you first arrived. A list of all the inmates medical conditions. In order of severity. Red is number 3. "
"Piscatella, you've really fucked up this time," Caputo took the paper and scanned over it.
"Sir, if an inmate becomes violent-"
"Bullshit!" Caputo exclaimed, before Healey even had the chance, "Resnikofs been here for 20 years. She's a pain in the ass, manipulative and asinine- but NEVER violent. She's a 60 year old woman for Christ's sakes! With three sons and an ex-husband. You don't think they're gonna sue over shit like this?"
"So we do damage control," Piscatella interjected, "take away her visitation and phone privileges"
"Even if we could justify that, what about her girls? Huh? And the countless other inmates just itching to get rid of that favour they owe Red? Of all the inmates you had to beat up everyone's Mumushka?"
"So we claim there's a fault with the phones and-"
"The Resnikof men are already aware of the situation," Healey lied through his gritted teeth, making a mental note to call Yuri when he got the chance.
"Jesus Christ!" Caputo ran his hand through his now sweat soaked hair, before pointing threateningly towards the giant that stood before him, "This is going to cost MCC thousands. So, I suggest you resign here and now because if you and your shit are not out of this prison within the hour, I promise, I will make it my personal mission to see that you never work again!"
And with that Caputo stormed out of the office, throwing only one last directive over his shoulder as he left.
"Healey, my office now!"
Healey mustered up his best impression of Red's evil eye before he sauntered out after Caputo.
Healey entered Caputo's office and obeyed his instructions to lock the door behind him.
"Have a seat, Sam," Caputo practically collapsed into his chair and rubbed his tired face in exhaustion.
"Jesus, Sam , I'm sorry" he looked at him with pity in his eyes, "despite popular belief, I'm not stupid. I know you and Red have a... Special relationship."
"Joe, I-"
"Save it," Caputo halted him, "I've never said anything cause I'm surprisingly happy for you two. I mean, real love. That shit never happens. And you've been smart about it, I mean it's not like you're banging in the broom closet for God's sake." He quickly raised his hands in the air, "IFYOUAREIDON'TWANTTOKNOWPLEASEDON'TTELLME!"
Healey couldn't help but chuckle at his friend.
"Take a few days off Sam. Be there when she wakes up," he gestured for Sam to leave as he picked up his glasses and perched them on the end of his nose, hurriedly pouring over the suddenly important folder in front of him.
Sam stood from his chair and moved towards the door.
"Joe..." Caputo looked up from his desk, "... Thank you."
Healey shuffled in to the hospital chair, desperately failing to find a comfortable position for the fourth hour in a row. His stare alternated between his mobile phone and the unconscious woman lying before him. He knew he should call Yuri, yet he also knew that Red wouldn't want her boys to see her in this state. Healey sighed as he resolved to call when she woke up, tucking his phone away in his pocket. He felt a stinging in the back of his eyes, the same sting that had lingered all day. He wasn't going to cry, he couldn't cry, he shouldn't. Just before he was about to cave into his emotions, a stir from the bed in front of him caught his eye.
"Red?" he rushed to her side, just in time to watch her eyes flutter open, black lashes giving way to the deep crimson blue that shone beneath.
"Sam," she muttered, a small smile playing on her lips, "Where am I?"
"The hospital," he reached across her and pressed a button to summon the nurse outside, "What do you say we get a doctor to look you over?"
Red moved as if to sit up and Healey began to panic, "No!". She started and looked up at him in shock, "MIlaya Moya," he softened his tone, "try not to move".
She smiled sweetly, gazing into his eyes. Healey partly attributed this to his tender Russian words, but mostly to whatever fabulous concoction of painkillers they had her on.
It took minutes for the doctor to respond, but to Healey it seemed like decades. He knew he wouldn't be able to move from that god damn chair until he knew for sure how bad Red's condition was.
"Good Morning, Mrs Resnikof," a young baby-faced doctor entered the room pouring over Red's chart in his hands, and Healey stifled a grin as he saw her gingerly look out the window at the dusk sky in confusion, "You gave us all a bit of a scare. Let's see how much spinal damage was caused, shall we?"
"Are you even out of diapers yet?" Red slurred, her strong Russian accent now even more prominent in her drug fuelled state, and let out a very un-Red-like giggle.
"Doc, whatever you've got her on," Healey grinned, "Any chance of a life-time prescription?"
The doctor laughed as he looked up from his clipboard, "I assure you Mrs Resnikof, I am fully trained," he turned to address Healey, "Sir, I'm afraid, if you're not family, you're going to have to wait in the hall".
Healey reluctantly stood from his seat.
"Neyt" a quiet murmur came from the bed, "Neyt."
"It's alright, Red," Healey reached down and squeezed her hand, "I'll be right outside, I promise."
"Neyt, Sam," Red insisted, clutching to his hand for dear life, "Doctor, please."
"Alright, Mr…"
"Sam," Healey looked at him with pleading eyes, "Call me Sam".
"Alright, Sam. Just give us room to examine her, and you can stay."
"Thanks Doc," he smiled, slowly untangling their hands and stepping away.
"Alright, Mrs Resnikof… would you prefer I call you Red."
Red nodded apprehensively.
"Alright, I'm Doctor Green," He smiled patronisingly and Healey amusingly observed as her face turned to stone and she stuck out her chin defiantly, "we're just going to check your range of movement and look for any nerve damage that might have been caused by your back injury. Is that alright?"
Red reluctantly nodded, and once again Healey stifled a chuckle as he imagined her desire to eat this poor young man alive… perhaps seasoned… with a glass of merlot…
"Okay so," the doctor continued as he lifted up the bottom of her blanket, exposing her feet.
Healey moaned as he noticed her bright red toenails, "Alright, whose stashing the nail polish?"
"Norma," Red slurred, a wicked smile glossing her face, "and you'll never find it."
"Sir," the doctor warned. Sam held his hands up in an expression of defeat, one that Red was all too familiar with.
"I'm just going to run my pen along the bottom of your feet," the doctor warned, "let me know if you feel anything."
Within seconds Red let out a high pitched girly giggle. Had Healey not been there to witness it he would have never believed it.
"Well, I'll be damned," Sam muttered, "Galina Resnikoff… ticklish. Thanks for that Doc."
"You wouldn't dare!" Red hissed. And although Sam knew she was probably right, he mentally stored that information away.
"Well, this is good," the Doctor informed, "Wiggle your toes for me."
Red complied with his instruction.
"And bend both knees,"
Red lifted her knees up and let out a howl as she felt a shooting pain run up her back.
"Well, it might not seem like it, Mrs Resnikof… Red, but this is good news," he made a note in her file, "There doesn't seem to be any paralysis, so we'll keep you on these anti-inflammatories for a few days, then give you something softer for the pain. A few months of bed rest, and you should be just fine."
Healey didn't even bother to hinder this laugh.
"What's so funny?" Red glared at him.
"Galina Resnikof, stuck in a bed… unable to get to her precious kitchen," Healey sneered.
"Oh," Red nodded, chuckling quietly, "That is funny".
"Seriously Doc," Healey shook his head, "No chance of a lifetime prescription?"