Eddie woke up to a dark and empty room. She was disoriented at first, until the shooting pain in her abdomen and the IV that dangled annoyingly from her hand reminded her of where she was. Her mouth was incredibly dry, so she reached for the table that sat on wheels beside her bed and grabbed a cup of water that one of the nurses had poured for her earlier. She set it down after taking a few sips, noticing her phone resting beside it on the table. Curious as to how it had gotten there – the last she remembered, she'd put it in the pocket of her uniform before they'd responded to the call the day before – she picked it up and pushed the power button. Surprisingly, it still had some charge; the clock on the display showed that it was a little after three in the morning, which surprised her. She'd slept for longer than she'd expected, having fallen asleep around five the previous evening. Unlocking her phone, she wasn't surprised to see about a dozen missed calls and text notifications, mostly from friends in the 12th. The first message that she opened, though, did surprise her:
Hey partner, sorry I had to run out. The docs kicked me out around 8 because of visiting hours. I'll be back later today – I'm suspended, I'll have to tell you that story later. Call if you need anything.
She was glad then that no one was in the room to see the idiotic smile that spread across her face after reading the message. Wincing as she sat back in the bed, she typed out a reply.
Ooh, the Boy Scout went rogue? I need to hear this story.
After sending it, she typed out another message. Hey, thanks for last night. But as soon as she saw it in writing she quickly deleted it. In person, she'd be able to say it with just the right amount of sheepishness mixed with lightheartedness and genuine gratitude that would keep it from screwing up their fragile dynamic. Over text, there was no way to convey those same nuances, and the bare meaning of the words left her entirely too vulnerable.
She waited for a moment to see if he would respond. When no three dots popped up signaling that he was typing, she assumed that he was probably asleep. Wanting to conserve battery on her phone – whoever had conveniently left it next to her hadn't gone so far as to procure her a charger – she put the phone aside and settled back against her pillows, pushing the button on the PCA pump again. She didn't like the lightheaded feeling that it gave her, but figured it might help her sleep. Which it did – within five minutes she felt herself drifting off again.
She found herself waking up again around eight, when a nurse came in to change her bandages. Checking her phone yielded nothing from Jamie, only a few messages from friends in different precincts who'd heard about her injury through the grapevine. Assuming that her partner must still be sleeping off the events of the day before, she put the phone aside and began flipping through morning talk shows. After that, the morning passed without much excitement. Her doctor stopped in around nine to jot down some numbers, but ran out after about two minutes, saying she was "progressing well." Besides that and a nurse stopping by to drop off a breakfast tray, which she hadn't been able to bring herself to eat, she'd been pretty much left alone. So when she heard a knock on the door, she didn't have many expectations; maybe a contingent from the precinct stopping by, or Sergeant Renzulli dropping in to check on her. She certainly wasn't expecting to look up and see the police commissioner leaning against the doorframe.
Had she not been so shocked, she would have laughed at her own reaction. She sat up straight from where she'd been leaning back in the bed, wincing at the pain as she did so. The commissioner, who was far more at ease with the situation, did crack a small smile, which from what she gleaned from Jamie was basically his equivalent of a full-on belly laugh. "As you were, Officer Janko."
She smiled sheepishly and relaxed her posture. The commissioner gestured towards the room from his spot in the doorway. "Mind if I come in?"
"Oh, of – of course! Come in!" Eddie was decidedly on edge. Her mind was not at its sharpest right now, and even in the best of times she wasn't good at talking to authority figures. Adding In the fact that this was her ultimate boss as well as her best friend's father meant that she was fumbling over her words. But the commissioner was here, and she had to play it cool. She scooted up into a sitting position in the bed as the commissioner sat down in the chair that had been vacated by his son a few hours earlier. The memory brought with it an irrational wave of anxiety, that somehow her boss knew of all her highly inappropriate feelings for Jamie and was here to suspend her or revoke her badge or just give her a terrifyingly disapproving look until she melted into the bed out of shame.
Frank, as he settled into the chair beside the bed, wasn't aware of her spiraling thoughts, or at least he pretended not to be. Seeing that he wasn't actively yelling at her, Eddie smiled weakly, not wanting to be the first to speak. Mercifully, and probably with some awareness of how awkward she was feeling given the faintly amused look on his face, the commissioner spoke.
"How're you feeling?"
His tone was kind, which would have helped her feel better if not for the fact that he spoke virtually the same words as Jamie had last night. Still, she appreciated his solicitousness. "Much better, sir."
He chuckled. "Hard to believe."
A flicker of concern crossed her face at his words. He saw this and explained. "I took a potshot to the gut back in the day – right under the vest, like this. Hurt like a son of a bitch. Definitely for longer than a few hours."
She laughed out of a combination of relief that he wasn't genuinely trying to call her out and amusement at seeing the commissioner drop a little of his highly professional exterior. "Yeah, I've been better." She tapped on the medication pump. "This helps."
The commissioner smiled. "I should tell you, the family sends their best wishes."
She blushed at hearing him acknowledge their personal connection. "Thank you, sir."
He inhaled deeply and glanced at the door as though to ensure that they were alone before he spoke. "Now I say this as the commissioner to his officer, but I also say it as a father. For my son's sake as well as your own and my department's, I'm glad you're still with us."
To her great embarrassment, Eddie felt herself tear up a bit. "Thank you, sir. So am I."
He stood from the chair and nodded at her. "Rest up. The 12th needs you back on the streets." As he turned to leave, he nearly collided with a figure wearing a heavy coat and carrying a brown paper bag, brushing snow from his hair.
Jamie stepped back when he saw his father. "D – uh, commissioner!"
Frank nodded. "Officer Reagan."
Jamie forced a degree of casualness into his tone. "Uh…what are you doing here?"
"I stopped by to pay your partner a visit." Frank nodded at Eddie.
At that, Jamie seemed to remember why he was there, and glanced over his father's shoulder to meet his partner's amused expression. He narrowed his eyes at her slightly, as though telling her off for laughing at him. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
Frank was not oblivious to the wordless conversation taking place between the partners, but chose to ignore it for the moment. He turned back to Eddie and nodded with a smile. "Officer Janko, best of luck with your recovery. The whole department is behind you." The familiarity of their earlier conversation seemed to have disappeared with Jamie's arrival.
She nodded. "Thank you, sir." With that, the commissioner turned and departed down the hallway. Now that the doorway was clear, Jamie entered and sat down in the chair that his father had vacated, smiling sheepishly at Eddie. She smiled back at him involuntarily as he lifted the paper bag to show her.
"I brought food."
Her face lit up as she reached for the bag, forgetting for a moment about her injured arm and cursing when the movement sent a twinge of pain through her shoulder. He winced and laughed at her wounded expression. She wrinkled her nose at him. "What'd you bring me?"
"Bacon, egg and cheese. And coffee. Decaf – my sister in law said you can't drink caffeine with all the pain meds."
Something inside of her thrilled at the fact that he'd asked his sister in law about her. She shook her head at him. "You know, just this once I'll forgive you for getting me decaf. I'm starving, and this hospital food is crap." He laughed as he passed her a paper-wrapped sandwich and a lidded paper cup.
She rested the sandwich on her lap and popped open the top of the coffee cup, taking a long sip. As she did so, she noticed a strange expression flicker onto his face. Wrapping her hands around the cup, she narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"
He gave her a self-conscious half-smile. "Sorry. I was just thinking."
She widened her eyes in mock astonishment. "Really?" He rolled his eyes at her. She laughed. "What were you thinking about?"
He took a long drink from his own coffee before he responded. "Coffee." He cut a look at the cup she still held in her hands.
Her confusion must have shown on her face, because he began to clarify right away. "Yesterday, after you got picked up in the ambulance. The rookie and I left the scene and took our radio car over to the hospital – that's why I'm suspended, you know, for taking off. So then we got there and I was sitting there in the ER and I realized I was holding on to your coffee – like, as though I was gonna bring it to you or something." He chuckled self-consciously. "I don't know. I wasn't really thinking straight – clearly, since I took off without clearance. But I ended up throwing it out – the coffee, I mean – after you got out of surgery. Figured it was probably gross by then anyway."
His confession left her struggling for words for a moment. "Wait. You – you left the scene of a shooting without waiting for backup to get there? Did you call in?"
He snorted. "No. I think Sarge almost had a stroke."
She stared at him in consternation. "Jesus, Reagan." She wasn't actually overly floored by his transgression itself, but rather by the image of her partner so emotionally unhinged that he totally disregarded the rules.
That wasn't even factoring in the later part of the story. She shook her head as if to clear it before asking the next part of her question. "You brought my coffee into the ER with you?" Her tone was softer now, and less shocked.
He shrugged. "It's weird, I know."
"No, it's – it's actually kind of sweet, in a weird way."
"You say that now. Danny thought I was crazy."
She chuckled. "Easy for him to say."
Jamie nodded. "Exactly."
They sat in silence for a moment before Jamie reached back into the paper bag he'd brought and pulled out another sandwich. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
"What do you think?" She grinned as she pulled her own sandwich from its wrapping and took a bite. She sighed appreciatively. "God, Reagan, I love you."
He shrugged modestly. "I try."
The partners fell into a comfortable silence as they ate.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! This was a fun one to write. For some reason this coffee idea has really stuck with me.
Chapter 7 still has a ways to go, but I'm hoping to get it out around Sunday-ish. You might hear from a few Reagans who haven't appeared as of yet, so keep an eye out!
Thanks for reading and please drop a review!