In case you're curious, type in 'Hey God, Bon Jovi' on youtube, it won't let me post the link to the Wembley concert

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Dank Dir, Stayce, Superfreund und Editor!!

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Hey God!f

Part 4

Dr. Sheldon took Mrs. Plum's elbow and led her over to the far corner of the room. I followed them with Mr. Plum. He was looking at the floor, his lips pressed tightly together. I knew how he felt.

My legs were heavy and I had a headache that was threatening to burst my skull open. I didn't think the Plums were feeling much better.

The doctor consulted his clipboard again and then he looked directly at me.

"She's lost a lot of blood," he said and sighed. I held my breath. "She's not out of the woods yet, but we have her stabilized for the time being. We removed two bullets, and we're fairly certain we repaired the damage they caused."

She was alive. I'd been so certain she was dead that I wanted to shake the doctor and make him repeat what he just said, just to make sure I'd heard him right.

Mrs. Plum started crying. Whether out of relief or out of worry, I couldn't tell. She grasped her husband's arm and was leaning heavily on it.

Dr. Sheldon looked at her, then back at me. I couldn't read the expression in his face, as if he was struggling to keep it neutral. "The next 24 hours are going to be critical."

"Can we see her?" Mrs. Plum asked, her voice cracking.

Dr. Sheldon shook his head. "Not just yet. She's being brought up to ICU, I'll have a nurse show you to that waiting room. Give us another hour."

"But why can't we see her now?" Mrs. Plum asked again.

"You can see her as soon as she's settled," Dr. Sheldon replied patiently. "But right now I have to consider Stephanie's needs first."

Mr. Plum thanked the doctor and tried to calm his wife. It didn't look like he'd succeed. I couldn't hear what he was saying but she kept protesting. He did however keep her from attacking the doctor.

Dr. Sheldon apparently thought he'd said enough, because he waved at one of the nurses behind the admission desk and motioned for her to come over. I waited until the nurse had introduced herself to the Plums and led them away.

"How is she doing?" I asked Dr. Sheldon when we were alone. "What didn't you tell us?"

Dr. Sheldon sighed and shook his head slightly, making sure the Plums were out of earshot. "It doesn't look good. With that kind of blood loss…we have to wait and see if she even wakes up. And if she does, there's no telling what kind of damage her brain took." He looked at his clipboard again and flipped a page. "Both bullets missed the spinal cord, and we managed to eventually stop the internal bleeding. We hope. But we have to wait for her to regain consciousness before we can make any kind of prognosis."
I nodded. Easy to see why he kept those details from her parents when they were obviously already hanging on by a thin thread. "Thank you," I pressed out and shook his hand.

"Her physician from now on will be Dr. Penn," he said with a nod of his own. "Up on ICU."

And then he left to take care of other patients or wash up or whatever. I stood in that same corner a moment longer, digesting the information.

Stephanie was alive. Not awake yet, but alive. I knew she was a fighter, I shouldn't have doubted her. She made it this far, I allowed myself to hope she'd make it all the way.

I glanced over at my men near the entrance. I had two choices, really. One, I could take the good news and start hunting down the shooter, put all available men on it and find the fucker. Or two, I could stay here; wait upstairs until I could see her. Confirm that she was alive and would make it.

I looked from my men to the elevator. It was a tough choice. I really didn't want to leave her but I really needed to find out what happened.

Since Dr. Sheldon said it would be an hour until I'd get to see her, I decided to put that hour to good use and approached Junior and Cal at the doors, taking my cell phone off my belt as I walked.

Tank answered his phone on the first ring. "Any update?" I asked him.

"I could ask you the same," he said. "Is she alive?"

I told him what the doctor had said and he relayed the information to everyone at RangeMan. I could hear whooping and laughing in the background.

"What do you have so far?" I wanted to know.

Tank cleared his throat. "The cops got there after us, so they knew even less," he said. "We're still going door to door to find out if the neighbors saw anything, but it's tough going."
"Why?"

He paused. I pictured the street Steph's parents lived on and my men going door to door. "They're not getting any cooperation?"
"We always rely on Steph in this neighborhood for a reason. They think we're paramilitary or something. They don't trust us."
"What else?" I rubbed my fingers over my forehead to ease some of the pounding in my head. "You got any good news for me?"

"Not yet. We're working with the CSI guys on it. There were tire tracks."

I closed my eyes. We were analyzing tire tracks? For fuck's sake! "Get Connie," I said. "Connie from the bonds office. People in the Burg will talk to her."

If Tank was offended I didn't suggest Lula, he didn't show it. "On it," he said and disconnected.

We had nothing. No shooter, no witness, nada. I clenched my fists and fought the urge to ram them into the nearest wall.

I shook my head to clear it, I had to focus. I couldn't help Steph here, the doctors were taking care of her, and I only had an hour, I had to get moving.

Junior and Cal had overheard my status report to Tank, they looked relieved.

"Go up to the ICU floor. As soon as they have her in a room, take your positions outside," I told them. "We'll do round the clock shifts. Let only family and staff enter." Whoever the shooter was, I wasn't going to let them have a second chance.

The men just nodded and took off for the elevator. They knew everything had been said.

I called Cal back. "Need your keys," I said.

He lobbed me the keys to their RangeMan SUV and then he hesitated, as if he wanted to say something. I didn't want to hear it, I turned towards the exit.

For several minutes, I sat in the car trying to figure out where to go. I knew I had to do something, I couldn't sit and wait any longer, but what?

I went back to the Plums' house and parked half a block away behind another RangeMan SUV. There was crime scene tape blocking off the sidewalk in front of the house and the right side of the street, where it was tied around police saw horses.

I walked up to the SUV in front of me and Tank rolled down the window when I was at the driver's door level.

"On my way to pick up Connie," he said. "I called off our men here. Cal called in your orders, I have the shifts set up."

I nodded and gestured towards the windows on the opposite side. "Someone has to have seen something."

"If they did, we'll find out."

"Who's in charge here?" I jerked my head towards the cluster of cops behind the tape.

"Detective Stevens," Tank said.

I knew the guy by reputation; he was the TPD's top guy for major crimes. There was no sign of him at the moment.

"OK. Call me as soon as you find out anything," I said and Tank took that as his cue to take off.

Just as he left, Carl Costanza was stepping out of one of the cruisers, saw me and walked over. "How's she doing?" he asked as he lifted the police tape and ducked through.

"She's out of surgery," I told him. "Still in critical condition."

He nodded and didn't hide his relief. "What happened here?" He motioned behind him at the crime scene.

"That's what I'm gonna find out," I told him honestly. "Stevens around?"

"Talking to the neighbors," Costanza said.

He was looking at me curiously, as if he didn't quite believe I hadn't seen anything. I didn't know what I'd hoped to find here, but I certainly hadn't come to answer questions.

"You already made your statement?" he asked, obviously knowing about my involvement.

I nodded and took a card out of my pocket, handing it to Costanza, "Have Stevens call me. I have my men on this."

"How bad is it?" he wanted to know. "Is she gonna make it?"

"Too soon to tell," I said and left.

Shit. I'd wasted a half hour for nothing. Witnesses were the only hope left. I looked at the houses again. There was just no way no one had been at the windows, they all cared about what was happening on the street. Steph always complained about the Burg gossip mill. But none of them had come running out after the shooting, screaming they'd seen the whole thing.

I had to wait. Waiting wasn't a problem for me usually, you learn to be patient in the Army, and I'd perfected it to an art form. But this time, it was personal and I could feel the minutes ticking away. And each minute could get the fuckers further away from me.

As much as I tried to clear my mind, I kept thinking about Steph. Alone, in her hospital bed. I knew Tank knew what he was doing and would call me as soon as he learned anything, but there had to be more I could do.

A shiny black Mustang drove by as I was getting in my car, rap music blaring out loud enough to make windows shake. It gave me an idea and I got out my cell phone, calling the control room.

"Send all available men to St. Francis for a meeting. Parking lot, fifteen minutes from now," I told Zero when he answered. It was time to act.

There were already three RangeMan cars when I arrived back at the hospital. I got out of my SUV and the men followed suit. We gathered in a loose circle on the macadam.

"We're looking for two or more perps here," I said. "And we're gonna start looking now. Hector," I looked at him. "You're on Stark Street. Blend in, get friendly, feel it out. I want to know who is looking to buy what. These guys knew what they were doing, they had to have friends." He nodded, didn't ask any questions.

"Santos," I said and he straightened. "Call Detective Stevens every hour on the hour. They learn anything, I want to know about it. And if he mentions a name, run the report immediately."
"On it," Santos said and turned to leave.

"Hal, you're on stand-by. If Connie finds out what the neighbors saw, start digging. They think they saw a Ford, you get me every Ford in the tri-state area, you got that?"

"Got it," Hal replied and for a second he looked like he was going to salute me.

"Woody, go see everyone you've ever known. Find out if anyone put a contract out on me. I don't care what it costs, pay what they ask for information. If no one paid to have me killed, find out who wanted me scared."

As the men jumped into their cars and left one by one, I felt better. I felt like we were moving forward, not treading water.

An hour later I was in the upstairs waiting room, making phone calls. There were a lot of people who owed me one way or another, and I told them all I'd make it worth their while if they had information for me.

The waiting room had comfortable chairs, its own vending machine and books in addition to magazines, but it was still a waiting room and we sat around without talking before Dr. Penn had allowed Mr. and Mrs. Plum into Steph's room just a couple of minutes ago. He said they could only stay a few minutes. I didn't want to cause trouble in front of her parents, but he better not try that shit with me. Once I went in, I was staying.

Cal and Junior had taken their posts on either side of the double milk glass doors that led to the restricted area; it was as far as they'd been allowed.

About fifteen minutes later, Mr. Plum pushed open the heavy glass door and they came out of the intensive care unit. Mrs. Plum's eyes were red and she was clutching a tissue to her face. Her husband was steadying her with his hand on her elbow.

A nurse got up from behind the station and handed Mr. Plum a prescription. Tranquilizers for Steph's mom, I guessed.

Mr. Plum nodded at me as they walked by, Mrs. Plum didn't look up. For a moment, I wondered why Morelli hadn't shown up, and when he would and what he'd do. But I didn't ask the Plums about it. Then the nurse I'd talked to when I got here opened the ICU's door and looked directly at me.

"You can see her now," she said. "But only for a couple minutes."

I got up and handed my cell phone to Junior, I already knew it wouldn't be allowed inside.

"Get me if there's news," I told him and then I followed the nurse through the doors.

She had me put on scrubs and a face mask because of the sterile environment. I didn't want to argue with her about the 'couple minutes' before I'd seen Steph, I didn't want to risk not being admitted at all.

The nurse led the way down the corridor; Steph's room was the third on the left. I thought I'd be better prepared for how she looked than her parents, since I was in the ambulance with her. I was wrong.

There was no Steph. There were white sheets and machines and tubes and valves. Under all of that, I could make out some of her brown curls and one hand, its color blending in with the sheet it lay on.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to walk closer. There was beeping and whirring and some other mechanical noise. Suddenly, all I wanted was to pick her up and carry her out of there and to safety, take her home. But she was safe here, there was nowhere I could take her and there was nothing I could do for her.

I looked at the nurse, "Thank you." Dismissing her. She understood and left.

"Babe," I whispered when I stood next to her bed.

And the cheesy line 'I'd give anything to have you look at me again' made sense now. If the devil showed up right now asking for my soul in exchange for Steph's health, I wouldn't hesitate. And I knew I had to stop thinking in fantasy terms and get back to the real world right about now. But it was hard to think straight.

I slowly picked up her hand; it felt cold and frail in mine. Now that my eyes had gotten used to all the machines, I was able to make out her face under the oxygen mask. No other body parts were visible, they were either bandaged or taped or under the thin blanket.

I've been in more hospital rooms than I cared to count and sometimes with people much worse off. I can't remember ever looking at someone and feeling so helpless and so angry at the same time.

The nurse came back, I was still standing next to Steph, unable to let go of her hand. I didn't turn when she opened the door, and I still hadn't moved when she left again. I just listened the rhythmic beeping and watched the artificial rise and fall of her chest.

After a while the door opened again, and I heard the rustle of starched clothes behind me, a doctor's coat.

"Mr. Manoso," a man said and I briefly glanced at him without moving my head.

"I'm Dr. Penn," he said after a moment. "Stephanie is in good hands with us. We're doing for her what we can."

"I know," I said.

"There's nothing you can do for her here now," he said.

"I'm staying," I said, keeping my voice even.

He sighed and it sounded to me like he'd expected as much. It probably wasn't the first time he heard it.

I saw him move out of the corner of my eye, he was pushing a chair over. Then he went over to one of the machines next to Steph's bed and checked the readout. He compared it to his notes and looked at me.

"She suffered immense trauma," he said. "We don't expect her to wake up before tomorrow."

I sensed him add 'if at all' in his mind. I wasn't interested. I'd doubted Steph once, and she'd proven me wrong. Now I knew she would survive this.

"Then I'll wait," I said and pulled the chair the rest of the way with my free hand, sitting down in it without moving the hand that held Steph's even an inch.

He nodded dejectedly and motioned to someone behind me, the nurse, from the sound her shoes had made when entering.

When they were done and had left, I focused on Steph again. I gently stroked the back of her hand with my thumb, then bent down to kiss it.

"Babe." There was so much I wanted to say to her, but I didn't want to say it to her sleeping form.

Hours went by without a change. Junior didn't come bustling into the room with a break through. I was hoping there was progress I just didn't know about yet.

It went dark outside, making the machine-filled white room seem even starker. I kept watching her, still hoping. The nurses changed, but the routine was the same. They checked the readouts, made some notes, smiled at me, and left again.

Suddenly, it was almost morning by now, the beeping changed. Steph's heart was beating faster, almost normal, and her hand stirred. I jumped up.

Her eyelids fluttered. "Steph," I tried and squeezed her hand lightly.

She groaned. Just a small human noise among the mechanical ones, but I heard it clearly.

A nurse walked past me just as Steph's eyes opened. I almost yanked her out of the way when she blocked my view.

"Miss Plum?" she asked, leaning over Steph. "Don't try to talk, there's a tube in your throat helping you breathe."

She was awake! I leaned around the nurse to be able to see her. I can't describe the feeling when I saw her eyes, bright and beautiful, looking up. I squeezed her hand again.

The nurse pushed a button by the bed twice and turned to me. "The doctor is coming."

Steph blinked, frowning in confusion. She hadn't looked at me yet.

"You're in the hospital," I said, leaning further across the bed.

A different doctor entered, a woman, and I felt hands on my shoulders, nudging me away. An orderly. "Let the doctor work," he said.

I let him lead me away, although it almost hurt physically to leave her side.

"Miss Plum, I'm Dr. Adams," the doctor said to Stephanie. "Blink once if you can hear me, OK?"

I couldn't see Steph's reaction but the doctor nodded in response. "We're going to remove the tube now. I'm going to count to three and then I want you to take a deep breath and slowly let it out, OK?"

Between the doctor and the nurses, my view of Stephanie was totally blocked as they went to work on her. I heard the count, the sucking noise, and then Stephanie coughing. Then the doctor was talking to her, a nurse handed her a cup with a straw, machines were checked.

But I still hadn't heard her voice. I didn't even know if she was moving on her own, if her eyes had stayed open.

"Stephanie," the doctor said. "You're at St. Francis hospital. Do you know what day it is?"

I'd heard enough, I needed to be with her. Pushing my way through the personnel, I stood by her bed again and took her hand. And she finally looked at me.

"Stephanie?" Dr. Adams asked again, trying to get Steph's attention.

Steph's eyes were still on me. "Babe," I whispered, her name was the only thing I was able to say.

Stephanie frowned in confusion. "Who are you?"

TBC


A/N: You didn't think I was going to let her die, did you?? Naaah, I'm all for the HEA...but whose??