A/N: I HAVE NO MEDICAL KNOWLEDGE, SO PLEASE DO NOT TAKE THE MEDICAL ASPECT OF THIS SERIOUSLY…WELL NOT TOO SERIOUSLY…PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!

Plus, I'm posting this rather early in the morning, meaning I am exhausted. So if anything seems off kilter, please let me know what I can do to fix it. That, or tell me what you did like. I'd love the feedback please! And don't forget to tell your friends about this fic, the more reviews, the happier the writer! You all know how that works...



The leg bounced up and down erratically. It didn't seem to have a rhythm, but an "it's my way or the highway" attitude, stopping and starting in spurts. Was it out of boredom? An old childhood habit? Whatever it was, it annoyed Bobby Goren a whole hell of a lot.

Pushing himself away from the wall he was leaning against, he unfolded his arms and gestured at his partner. "Do you have to do that?" he demanded. Eames stilled and gave him an indescribable look. He sighed heavily and hung his head, bringing a hand to his mouth. Looking up from underneath his brows, he nearly missed her concerned expression.

Removing his hand from his mouth, he slid it down his jaw until it rested on the back of his neck. Kneading at the tension he felt built up there, Goren muttered, "Sorry…I-I'm sorry." Shoving his right hand into his trouser pocket, he scratched at the base of his neck with the other. "It's just all this…waiting…and not knowing…"

Eames nodded in understanding, standing up to comfort her solemn partner. "I know," meeting his eyes, she repeated, "I know."

Goren shook his head and pulled away, surprising even himself at the whimper caught in his throat. "It's, it's my fault…I should have stayed with him, Eames," by this time, he was rambling and pulling away from the smaller woman, motioning down the hall with both hands in which he had last seen Logan wheeled away. "If I had stayed with him, this wouldn't have happened…"

Shaking her head roughly, she backed him up against a wall. "No, Bobby, no. It wasn't your fault, and you are not going to blame yourself for this. Understand?" When he didn't respond, she grabbed his jaw and turned his head to face her, ignoring his wince. "Un-der-stand?"
Goren blinked and swallowed roughly, and Eames decided that that was better than anything else he could have said or done. "Good." She released her hold on his chin and stepped back to examine his bloody and disheveled clothing. She didn't fail to notice his pink hands, the flesh scrubbed raw in an attempt to rid of the blood. "Why don't you go home and freshen up? Then maybe you could pick up some food, we could both use it."

Once more, he blinked, although this was more in shock or confusion. "You want me to freshen up and grab some food?" he replied, his voice thick, his dark eyes flashing in the florescent lighting.

"Yes, and coffee while you're at it. It won't do anyone any good if either one of us drop dead at their feet, now would it?" she knew her choice of words could have been better, judging from the way his eyelids fluttered.

"Eames…" he tried to protest, pulling his large frame away from the wall.

Before she could fight him anymore on the subject, a deep voice startled them both. They turned to face a relatively tall doctor, whose blood tainted scrubs did nothing to ease Goren's worries.

"Detectives Goren and Eames, I presume? I'm Dr. Orson." He shook both of their hands firmly, before motioning to a row of chairs behind him. "Why don't we have a seat, and I can inform you on Detective Logan's condition?"

Eames nodded and complied, sitting on the edge of the seat like a dainty doll. Goren opted for the wall once more, tilting his head to the side as if whatever the doctor had to say, he would take it badly.

Casting Goren a questioning glance, Dr. Orson turned to face Eames and proceeded. "As you both well know, Detective Logan has suffered from two gunshot wounds. The one to his neck was through and through; it was easy enough to patch up. The one to his back entered cleanly enough, but after cracking two of his ribs, and nicking a kidney, it settled into his ascending colon."

Glancing at Eames, Goren pursed his lips in thought. Calling the doctor's attention by gesturing with his right hand, he said, "I thought that people could live without their ascending colon…?"

Orson folded his hands and nodded. "Yes, many people live healthy lives missing one of their colons…however, the bullet cannot be left there. It needs to be surgically removed, and that is where the problem lies."

"I…I don't understand," Goren nearly growled. "What is the damn problem?"

"Bobby," Eames soft voice warned, her eyes seeking his from across the hall.

"I understand your anger and frustration, Detective. And judging from your reactions, I assume you both didn't know about Detective Logan's previous surgery." It wasn't a question. When they both turned to face him bemused, he continued. "I may be breakin-"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality," Goren interrupted, his eyes narrowing. "Tell us."

"Well, according to his file, the surgery was to remove part of his ascending colon due to blunt force trauma. The surgery seemingly went well, however the complications ensued afterwards when Detective Logan contracted an illness due to contaminated tools. It severely damaged the rest of the organ. Once more according to the file, his mother refused to consent to another surgery."

"I still don't understand."

Orson sighed, "Logan doesn't want the surgery either." Holding up a hand to stop the protests from the partners, he quickly added, "He's lucid enough to make his own decisions. Normally we'd leave the bullet where it is, rather than risk a surgery. However, do to the fact that the colon has been deteriorating for years from the past infection and poor handling of it, it could easily lose it's hold on the bullet, and cause more damage."

Goren threw his head back, slamming it against the plastered wall. He grimaced in pain, but groaned in frustration. "And there's nothing you can do to change his mind?"
The doctor shrugged, "We've tried everything. The best we can do is hold him for the broken ribs…after they heal, he has a few more years before anything happens to that bullet. Then it's anybody's guess as to what occurs next."

It was quiet, despite all the shuffling, coughing, and beeping. The doctor cleared his throat and stood. "If you wish to talk to him, you may. Room 314. One at a time, though." As he began to walk off, he suddenly stopped and walked back. "I almost forgot to mention. Detective Logan received numerous bruises and scratches from a recent encounter, including a fractured nose. He also suffered blunt force trauma to his genitals, which I regret to say may have left him sterile. I was wondering if you two…" he trailed off at the paling of both officers. Reexamining the larger of the two, he noticed the black eye and stitching. "I assume you were the cause of those injuries?"

"Some of 'em," he mumbled, not daring to look over at his stricken partner.

"I see," Orson murmured. "Well, I just thought you two ought to know. And when you go to see him, would you please make sure that the woman at his side gets some food and rest? She hasn't budged an inch."

They both nodded solemnly until Eames called out, "Have you informed her about Detective Logan?"

"Yes, and she's been trying to convince him to have the surgery. But, like mother like son…" the doctor winked and walked off, unbeknownst to the fact that Eames had to step in front of her partner in order to keep him from ripping Orson to shreds.

"Did you hear him?" he grumbled, "Logan's nothing like his mother…"

"You know what he meant Bobby." She claimed, her voice trying to stay smooth, but belied her panicked expression.

Both breathing harshly, Bobby turned to look down at Eames. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern softening his expression and voice.

She looked up, and it shocked him to see tears in her eyes. "I may have made him sterile Bobby…Jesus!"

Sighing in both of their sorrow, he gently embraced her for the first time. It was their first hug that either could remember in their partnership, and it was inside the hallway of a hospital, where their fellow officer lie wounded. Thumbing away her tears, he shushed her quietly. "It's okay, Alex…it's going to be okay…shhshhshh…It's okay…" he rocked her back and forth in his arms, pressing his cheek into her hair.

Minutes dragged on slowly, just as the weight of what had transpired dragged down Goren's knees. Sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the wall, he cradled his distraught partner. She rarely cried, and he was troubled at how upset she truly was. But, knowing what he knew about human nature, he concluded that ever since her nephew had been born, she had a new respect for parenthood. She held it highly, although Bobby couldn't help but smirk when he thought that no one held family higher than Detective Elliot Stabler of Manhattan SVU.

Finding himself dozing off in the center of the hall, Goren jostled his partner and whispered something of the likes of coffee. Yawning, she nodded and stood slowly. She held out her hand to help her partner up, but he batted it away and pushed himself off the floor. Murmuring something about being "too heavy, but thanks anyway," he guided her over to the plastic chairs and sat her down.

"I'm going to check on Kathleen, okay? Then I'll drive you home so you can rest. Maybe I'll buy you a cup of coffee after, if you're good." His teasing didn't seem to invade her sad state of mind, so he patted her shoulder in a "Ross-like" manner and ambled down the hall in a steady gait.

Entering the room with a gentle knock, he was stunned at the pallor of Logan. Easing in, he knelt beside the sleeping form of Kathleen, who curled into an uncomfortable position in a chair. "Hey…Kathleen?" He shook her shoulder gently. "Kathleen, I need you to wake up."

Stirring slowly, she swatted at his hand. "Goren? What's the matter? Has something happened to M-" she stopped herself short when she saw that Mike was sleeping on. "Good," she yawned, "Good."

"Did the doctor tell you everything?" Goren whispered, fearful of waking up Logan. Kathleen nodded tearfully.

"They said he may be, be sterile…and the stubborn idiot won't consent to surgery…" she wept softly, and allowed Goren to envelope her small frame with a hug. Holding her as he did his own partner, he whispered comforting words. "But, but he doesn't know, Bobby…"

Furrowing his eyebrows, he pulled away. "Who doesn't know what, Kathleen?"

She laughed, emitting a small hiccup. "It's like a soap opera, or something terribly clichéd," she nearly giggled, despite her steady flow of tears.

"What are you talking about?" Bobby demanded, his brown eyes scanning her face for hints. And it hit him, as he knew it would. He wasn't called the best for nothing. Closing his eyes, he whispered, "You're pregnant."

Nodding, Kathleen wiped away some of the tears with the back of her hand. "How'd you know?"

"You're face…it's plump. The cheeks are flushed…you're, you're eyes are shining…" he pointed them out with a half-smile. "You keep touching you're stomach, as if to make sure it's really true…"

Kathleen laughed again, "Wow, you're very good." Then she touched her cheeks worriedly, "I'm plump?"

He couldn't help but laugh too, and shook his head. "I didn't mean it in a bad way…it suits you very well."

"Thank you," she murmured, before tearing her eyes away from his and looking at Logan's sleeping form. "I was going to tell him soon, but then he found out the truth. About my past…and you know too, don't you?"

She turned to face his caring face, and he looked so sad for her. "I know, and I'm sorry for all that man has put you through, Kathleen." When she turned her head away, he gently touched her cheek and added, "And Mike understands. He doesn't care. He was worried sick for you."

"But what about my being pregnant? He never expressed his want for children, or even what our future would be like. This is so surreal," she sighed, placing a hand to her forehead. "What am I going to do?"

"You'll do whatever you feel is right," he stated firmly. "But right now, you'll do what I think is right, and that's getting up and allowing me to take you to my place. You and Eames can sleep there while I try to convince this idiot," he smiled at her, motioning towards Mike, "To allow the surgery."

Nodding her consent, she stood shakily. "Alright, thank you."

Nearly two hours later, Goren checked his watch for the umpteenth time and scrubbed his face with his hands. He had managed to get the two women to sleep in his home, and now he waited for the doctors to leave the conscious Logan alone.

After the battery of tests was done, Logan looked over at Goren wearily. "Don't start with me," he muttered hoarsely.

"Start what, Mike?" he questioned, standing up and leaning over the railing to Logan's bed. "Start knocking some sense into that thick skull of yours?"

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head slowly. "It's…none of your business," he managed to reply, licking at his dry lips tiredly.

Filling a glass of water for him, Goren placed the straw in the man's mouth and urged him to take a few sips. "Easy, easy…"

Annoyed, Logan stopped drinking and pushed the cup away. "I don't…need it…the surgery…"

"Yes, you do. And Kathleen has a very good reason for you to have it too," and from Logan's puzzled look he plowed on, "But that's her story to tell." Titling his head, he asked, "Why won't you do it? It's a simple procedure."

Frowning, Mike bit back, "That's what… they said before… and I wound…wound up fighting death…. from a little mistake. I won't…I won't be subjected to all of that… again."

"That was years ago, Mike!" Bobby stressed, "You need it! There's no harm in doing something that your mother wouldn't approve of now, she's dead. Especially if it's something that could save you from future damage."

Glaring at him, Logan growled, "The hell…do you know…about it?"

Shrugging, he replied, "I have my ways, Mike."

Rather than indulging Bobby in his mind play, Logan reclined in his cot and closed his eyes. "I'm tired…Goren…"

"I don't care," he snapped, "You need the surgery!"
"Why are you…so hell bent…on my getting this, huh? It's…it's none of your damn…business." Logan's breathing sounded harsh in the near silent room.

"Because I'd like for baby Logan to grow up knowing her father!" he retorted, before he squeezed his eyes shut and cursed his mouth, not for the first time.

Wide eyed, the haggard looking detective turned to him. "Wha…excuse…what the hell did you…just say?"


TBC...

PLEASE REVIEW.

Sorry for the crappy chapter, it's so early in the morning that everything is

beginning to blur into one massive ink thing...which is just plain weird...