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Chapter 2
Sergeant Anthony Renzulli made his way down the fourth floor hallway of St. Victor's Hospital searching for his partner's room. It had been a hell of a day that started out routinely enough and he'd been hopeful for a quiet and easy tour before a few scheduled days off from work. But maybe it was that wishful thinking that had doomed them from the start as he and his partner came across an armed robbery in progress at about the time they should have been going on meal and headed to Cleo for one of the city's best gyros and it ended with his rookie suffering a gunshot wound to his side. He swore he could feel himself having a coronary when he saw Jimmy go down, but had somehow managed to stay focused on their perp even after he'd put a bullet in him, secured him in cuffs to make sure he was no longer a threat before ordering the arriving uniforms to deal with the scumbag so he could tend to his partner. The poor kid had been curled up on the ground, clutching his side which prevented him from seeing where he was hit. When he managed to get Jimmy on his back for a better look, he feared the worst as bright red blood seeped through the kid's fingers. That sight alone had shaved ten years off his life.
Renzulli shook his head to rid himself of those terrifying memories. He had to remind himself that his partner was fine while he'd spent the rest of the day dealing with detectives, reporting to the Commissioner's DCPI as their boss was rushed to the hospital from some meeting downtown and completing the mandatory reports which were a hundred times more tedious than a standard incident report because not only had shots been fired, but a perp and an officer had been hit. As much as he wished he could go home, throw back a beer or two and put this terrible day behind him, he had one more important thing to do. Renzulli approached room 423 and nodded a greeting at the suits making their way out of Jimmy's room. "Hey, kid," he announced his arrival with a soft knock on the open door of the hospital room, examining his partner thoroughly with one glance, comparing him to how he looked the last time he'd seen him - pale and pained as he was being wheeled back to one of the ER trauma rooms. Compared to then, the kid looked a hell of a lot better, worn out, but definitely better.
"Hey, Sarge," Jimmy replied with a tired smile.
"The detectives all done with you?" Renzulli asked with a nod toward the hallway as he approached his bedside.
"Yeah, I think so...for now at least," Jimmy assumed and rubbed the palms of his hands against his tired and burning eyes.
Renzulli took a deep breath, feeling a lot like the kid looked. "You know you gave me a real scare out there today," he confessed while shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.
"Gave myself one too," Jimmy sighed. "It was a close call out there today, Sarge."
"Could have went either way, but it went ours," Renzulli said.
Jimmy smirked at his TO. "Never look back though, right? That's what you taught me?"
"That's right, kid," Renzulli smiled. "You were doing good out there, Jimmy. You really knew how to talk to that guy even though he was higher than a kite, almost had that meth-head ready to drop his weapon. If only those other units could have rolled in ten seconds later, I'd be buying you a beer at Sully's right now instead of visiting you in the hospital."
"Guess that minor in psychology is gonna come in handy after all, huh, Sarge?" Jimmy quipped, referring to the frequent teasing from his TO on all of the psych courses he took along with his major in criminal justice.
"That's right, college boy," Renzulli laughed, but turned serious because he had realized long ago that Jimmy had a gift for this job. "You know, you got something special, Jimmy...a special kind of instinct for dealing with people," he said before continuing with a thought that, unbeknownst to him, mirrored the Commissioner's when he'd visited the wounded officer this afternoon. "You remind me of one of my old boots," Renzulli remarked before realizing he'd said it out loud, but stopped himself from going any further because he certainly didn't want to go into the tragic fate of another great officer he'd once trained, especially while his current partner was nursing his own battle wound. Instead, Renzulli quickly switched to another topic of concern. "Listen, Jimmy, we tried reaching your mom a few times and didn't have much luck. Have you gotten through to her or is there another number I could try for you?"
Jimmy stiffened a little at the mention of his mother which did not go unnoticed by the older man. "Ah, nah, Sarge, it's fine," he insisted.
Renzulli frowned. "What do you mean it's fine? Your family should know. You mother should know you were shot," he insisted.
A whole range of emotions crossed Jimmy's face as he sought a way out of this conversation, but he'd been riding with this man for long enough to know he'd persist, especially with his current situation, and decided to come clean. "Sarge, my mom and I...we don't really see eye to eye about much," he began to explain vaguely, hoping he wouldn't have to go into any details.
"That doesn't mean she wouldn't want to know," Renzulli argued. There was no way in hell any mother wouldn't want to know her kid was hurt...then again, with what he saw on the job sometimes, nothing would surprise him. But he refused to think that a good kid like Jimmy had family that didn't care about his well being. Anybody would be lucky and proud to have him as their son.
"Not so sure about that," Jimmy mumbled under his breath.
Renzulli's frown deepened at that statement, hearing it clearly but not willing to believe it. "Say what?"
"Nothing, just...it's easier if I don't bother her with this," Jimmy said, but he was really thinking that it was better for him to not bother with her at all.
"Bother her?" Renzulli parroted.
"I only put her down as my emergency contact because I didn't have anyone else to list on the form," Jimmy admitted, embarrassed by his circumstances.
Renzulli sighed and took a seat in the guest chair near the end of the bed, scratching his head at the damn mess this day had turned into. "Listen, kid, I know you don't talk about your family much, so I'm guessing it wasn't all gumdrops and lollipops growing up."
Jimmy looked away, not really wanting to go down that road with his TO...or anyone.
Renzulli forged on, wanting to know more about his partner so that he could make something clear to him. "I know you said you didn't have any brothers or sisters...what about your father?"
"Wasn't in the picture, never was," Jimmy shrugged, pretending that wasn't a big deal, but Renzulli saw right through him. He got lucky that Renzulli didn't press for more on that topic, but still hated the pity in the older man's eyes.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Jimmy," he sympathized, deciding quickly on the best course of action. "Well, first thing's first, if you really don't want your mom to be your emergency contact and you're sure about that," he paused to receive a jerky nod from his boot, "then let's not waste time trying to call someone we can't reach."
"I don't have anyone else -" Jimmy began to reply.
"You got me kid," Renzulli interrupted.
Jimmy looked away, embarrassed that his boss might see him as some pitiful charity case. "I appreciate the officer, sarge, but it's not -"
"Listen to me, right now," Renzulli cut him off and waited until Jimmy was looking him in the eyes. "We're riding around together right now, so I'm the first to know if you're in trouble anyway, but one day soon I'm gonna take the floaties off your arms and send you out into the deep end of the pool with another cop by your side and I won't be watching your back anymore. But that doesn't mean I cut ties with you then...I got a vested interest in you, kid." Renzulli held Jimmy's gaze, hoping he knew that he saw him as more than a subordinate. "I spent lots of blood, sweat and tears molding you into a good cop and I need to make sure all my hard work doesn't go to waste," he said with a lighter tone to break the tension. "Plus, if there's one thing you shoulda learned by now is that we're all family here. Got it?"
"Yeah, I got it," Jimmy nodded and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "Thanks, sarge."
"You're welcome. Now, you look like you're about ready to saw some logs. Just lay back and relax, college kid," he ordered as he threw his feet up on the end of the bed and sat back in his chair.
"You don't have to stay," Jimmy said. Renzulli looked as tired as he felt and hated to keep the man from heading home.
"Now what did I tell ya, huh? We're family," he reminded him with an unspoken order to quit arguing.
Jimmy nodded and closed his eyes as his lips stretched into a small smile, fully expecting what came out of Renzulli's mouth next to further justify his reasons for keeping him company.
"Plus, Marie's at home waiting to force her cooking on me...ugh!...it's like dog food!" Renzulli groused as a shutter of disgust ran through him. "If I get home late enough, I won't have to eat it."
"Glad I could help," Jimmy snorted as he felt himself finally letting his guard down for the first time that day.
Frank Reagen sat motionless in his large executive chair with his chin cradled in the palm of his hand while lost in deep thought. Something had been bothering him all day, ever since he'd visited Officer Riordan in the hospital and it wasn't just the fact that one of his men was in the hospital healing from a gunshot wound. Something about that young man had him out of sorts and his gut was telling him that it was more than just the fact that he'd reminded him of Joe.
The thought of his son had Frank turning around to face the large credenza behind his desk. He reached forward and took the framed photograph of Joe posing in his dress blues in his hand and stared into it as if asking his son for an explanation for his unease.
That was how Garrett Moore found him several minutes later when he came into the dimly lit office to deliver the paperwork for the pending promotions. "What are you still doing here, Frank? I thought you would have headed home already."
Frank remained focused on Joe's handsome face, still not believing he was really gone. It was a pain he didn't think he'd have to suffer again but it seemed that lightning had struck twice in that regard. And it was another reason why he'd sometimes found himself questioning his faith...Frank tried his damnedest to be a good man, a family man who's life's work was to make this city safer for his loved ones and it's citizens. But he had failed them at times and even though fate had dealt him and the family some very crappy cards, his stubborn Irish pride would not let him throw in the towel, even in those instances that would send most men into hiding. Frank knew no better way to avoid the pain he carried in his heart everyday than by submerging himself in his work and his family, which was why, when he'd learned that a corrupt group of cops had been responsible for Joe's death, he'd worked day and night with the help of a select few, including his older children, to nail the bastards who'd stolen so much from them. And while they'd gotten justice, it was bitter-sweet as they still dealt with Joe's loss everyday. But he carried a heavier burden because he had never been able to get that same kind of justice for his youngest son. "I'll head out in a little while," he replied.
Garrett's brow wrinkled. Frank Reagan was distracted, he had been ever since they left the hospital and that was hardly a word anyone would use to describe him. "You look like you got the weight of the world on your shoulders, Frank. I thought you'd be relieved to know that Officer Riordan's injuries were minor," he commented while taking a seat in front of the large mahogany desk.
"I am," Frank confirmed as he turned to face his DCPI and placed the frame in the center of his blotter.
"So what's on your mind?" Garrett prompted.
Frank knew who was on his mind, he just didn't know why. "Officer Riordan," he shared.
"What about him?"
"I don't know," Frank sighed with a frustrated shake of his head.
Garrett chuckled nervously. "You're not making much sense, Frank."
"I know that," he huffed in annoyance which was aimed more at himself than his DCPI. "I don't quite understand it either."
"Okay. Just tell me what's on your mind and maybe I can help you figure it out," Garrett offered as he got more comfortable in the chair.
Frank took several seconds to organize his thoughts. It was hard to explain what even he could not understand, but he gave it a shot anyway. "When I went to see him..." he stopped himself to look up into his friend's eyes to gauge his reaction, "this is going to sound crazy, but he reminded me of Joe," he said with some hesitation.
"Joe?" Garrett repeated, surprised to hear Frank mention his younger son. It wasn't often that he brought Joe up to anyone. It wasn't often he discussed any of the heartache the family had suffered over the years.
"Yes."
"Okay. Well...it's not unusual to see some similarities between strangers and loved ones. I take it that brought up old feelings about Joe and his passing?" Garrett surmised.
Frank let out a heavy sigh of frustration. "It's not that...well, it did, if I'm honest, but it really isn't just that." One thing he knew for sure was that he hated to see that young man alone in his hospital room with no family around him. As a father, his heart broke at seeing that, but he was sure there was more to it.
"Help me out here Frank. Then what is it?" Garrett urged, wanting desperately to help his friend with whatever had him so shaken.
"I wish I knew. But I want you to do something for me, Garrett."
"Of course. Anything."
"I want you to pull Riordan's personnel file for me, everything we got and everything he had to submit to get into the academy and on the job." Frank didn't know what he was looking for but he figured that was the best place to start.
"Oooh-kay," Garret drawled with apparent uncertainty.
"Don't look at me like that!" Frank snapped.
"Like what?" Garrett asked innocently at his friend's sudden ire.
"Like I've lost my marbles!" Frank grumbled.
"I didn't...I'm not," Garrett replied quickly. "And I'll get right on it, I'll have it for you in the morning. Now go home, Frank. It's been a long day."
"Yes...that it has," he agreed and got up from his chair with one last glance at the framed photograph on his desk.
There is a lot more Renzulli in this story than there is of Garrett, but both are such great characters and Renzulli is sadly underutilized on the show after season two...I'm getting my Renzulli fix with this story. Expect to see a lot more of him! And Frank's gut is in high drive, he's just not sure what he's dealing with yet.
There will be no update tomorrow as party-planner duties for my little sister's baby shower take precedence over fan fiction for one day! But who knows, maybe it will provide inspiration for another chapter of 'Baby Steps' which I have sadly neglected because of this story which has grown to thirty chapters and is still not done. I will try to knock out another chapter to that story after this one concludes; I could use some Reagan/baby silliness. :)
