A/N: I was able to update sooner than I thought. I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on the internet, so please forgive any egregious medical errors. I and my Google-skills did the best we could. Please let me know what you think!

Layla was conscious, her eyes darteing around, wide with terror, before meeting Kyle's and brightening with recognition. Her mouth moved, but if she spoke he couldn't hear it over the commontion. "What's happening?" he demanded, as the gurney was rolled hastily toward one of the large patient-transport elevators. He jogged alongside, his fingers bone-white on the railing. "Tell me what's going on!"

"Page Dr. Baez," barked the resident at the head of the gurney. "Prep the OR for an emergency C-section and alert the NICU!" A nurse nodded and darted off to carry out the order, nearly bowling Kyle over on his way.

He barely noticed, the words slamming into his belly like a fist. Layla was covered in blood from shoulder to knees, the brightly patterned maternity sundress she was wearing now saturated, the turquoise flowers across her bulging abdomen drowned in a flood of crimson. Even as the elevator door opened and he was forced to let go as the gurney was rolled inside, he was shouting. "The baby? Dr." – just in time, his mind supplied the name of the resident – "Lancaster, is there a fetal heartbeat?"

Lancaster answered with a terse nod, before the doors shut in his face.

Kyle whirled and sprinted back to the regular elevators. He jabbed viciously at the 'up' button, cursing the elevator's slowness. Blood roared in his ears, drowning out the noise around him. He only became aware that someone was speaking to him when the person grabbed his arm. Shocked, he jerked it away with a snarl. He turned his head and saw the person who had grabbed him was Schuyler.

"Who was that? What's going on?"

"She was shot," Kyle muttered, eyes returning to the display above the elevator doors. Dammit, one was going up and the other was all the way up on the fifth floor!

"Yeah, I saw that much. Kyle –" Schuyler kept talking, but Kyle tuned his voice out and continued to watch the floor numbers, thoughts running through his mind with brutal clarity.

Fourth floor. At thirty-seven weeks, the baby stood an excellent chance of survival. But if Layla died – oh, God! – before delivery, there would be only minutes before oxygen deprivation set in…

Third floor. The uterine wall was strong, but not enough to stop a bullet. Where exactly was the entry wound? He hadn't been able to tell.

Second floor. The baby had turned into vertex position two weeks before, if Layla had been shot low enough in the abdomen, the bullet could have gone straight through to the baby's head.

First floor. Kyle expelled a breath as finally, the elevator doors began to open. As he lifted a foot to leap inside, however, a shout rang out from down the hall.

"Dr. Lewis!"

He would have ignored it, whoever it was, but instinct had him turning around. He saw Diya running toward him.

"Not now!" he snapped, jumping in the elevator and extending a finger to push the third-floor button. He growled when Diya slapped a hand against the closing doors, halting their progress. "I said, not now, Sawhney!"

"But Dr. Lewis, the other GSW!"

He paused, something in her voice piercing through his urgency. "Other GSW?" he asked slowly, staring at her.

She nodded, panting a little. "I heard on the radio, there were two victims, the other one is a cop, I guess it happened right in front of the police station –"

Kyle swayed on his feet, suddenly boneless. He shut his eyes and closed his ears, tuning out the rest of what she was saying. He didn't need to hear, nor had he needed the confirmation in the glimpse he'd caught of Schuyler's face over Diya's shoulder, eyes bulging in shock. He knew. As soon as he heard the word cop, he knew.

Oliver.

Pneumothorax. Thoracotomy. Epinephrine. The words echoed in his head, pebbles dropping and disappearing into a deep, black pool of wordless terror. He stood rooted to the floor in front of a set of OR doors, behind which Oliver lay fighting for his life. His heart had stopped even before they had reached the OR, right in front of Kyle's eyes, only to be shocked into rhythm again by a defibrillator and a shot of epi, before they'd wheeled him inside and – again – shut those damned doors in Kyle's face. Only the firm grasp of several pairs of hands had stopped him from charging right in after him, hospital protocols about treating family members be damned.

Had that been the only time Oliver's heart had stopped? Or had it happened in the ambulance as well? His head snapped up, looking around. He caught a glimpse of dark blue out of the corner of his eye and turned, arrowing down the hall before his brain caught up and he realized that the uniformed people milling about the waiting area were cops and not EMTs.

EMTs would have gone back to work, his mind coolly informed him. The cops are here for Oliver. His footsteps slowed. He wasn't sure if he could take hearing about the details of the shooting – or worse, sympathy.

Too late, he'd been spotted. A figure stepped out from the group and approached him. He recognized Bruce Hunter, Oliver's new partner. Lazy, Oliver had called him. Kyle felt a sudden sharp yearning for Ruriko Sato, Oliver's former partner, who had transferred to Cherryvale six months before. He'd always been able to trust that she'd be watching Oliver's back.

A sudden spurt of rage had him moving again and, even as the other man opened his mouth, Kyle shoved him backwards. "Where the hell were you?" He was shouting, barely hearing his own words, taking no notice of the sudden silence as everyone in the hall turned to stare. "Oliver and Layla both got shot and you're standing here without a goddamn scratch! Where were you?"

Hunter's mouth dropped open in shock and an ugly flush ran up his face from his neck. "Hey, it wasn't my fault! Some loony opens fire on the police station, how was I supposed to stop it? Someone was gunning for him, might be someone who doesn't care for arse bandits-"

Kyle lunged, swinging a fist directly into the bastard's face. Hunter fell back, but caught himself against the wall before he could hit the floor. Shocked exclamations filled the air and suddenly there were a lot of people between the two of them.

"Whoa, whoa, this isn't going to do any good," the man who had grabbed Kyle by the shoulders was saying. Through his fury, it took him a minute to recognize Theo Price. "Hunter, take a walk," Price added, raising his voice. Over his shoulder, Kyle saw Hunter shake off the two officers restraining him. With one last glare at Kyle, he walked away down the hall. Kyle felt some satisfaction at the trickle of blood coming from his mouth. He shook out his fingers, wincing.

"Ignore him, he's an asshole," Price advised him, letting go. "We're all pulling for Fish."

Kyle nodded, but the sound of someone else clearing his throat forestalled any reply.

"Um, am I interrupting something?"

He turned quickly to see Dr. Gangemi standing in the hallway behind him, looking around quizzically. Kyle realized with a horrified jolt that he had – just briefly – forgotten about everything except Oliver.

"Jay?" he asked desperately. "The baby…" he trailed off, unable to verbalize any of the horrifying possibilities.

"A strong, healthy boy," Gangemi said with a reassuring smile. "A fragment of the bullet did hit his right arm, causing a few greenstick fractures, but a few weeks in the soft cast I put on should take care of that. We'll keep him in the NICU for a while for observation, to keep an eye on that arm and make sure no complications arise, but I don't foresee any problems. Newborns are quite resilient. I expect he'll be ready to go home in a couple of days. You can go see him now, if you want."

Kyle's breath exhaled out of his lungs in a massive whoosh. He felt faintly dizzy. "And Layla?" he asked, once he was sure he could speak.

Dr. Gangemi's face sobered. "Still in surgery. Dr. Baez did the C-section and Dr. Klein is operating now to repair the damage the bullets did to her abdomen and clavicle. But she seems to be doing well so far. You should hear something in an hour or so."

Kyle nodded and then, unable to help himself, threw his arms around the other man. "Thank you, Jay," he whispered. Gangemi chuckled and patted his back.

"My pleasure," he said. Once Kyle had released him, he quirked an eyebrow at him. "Your kids do seem to enjoy making a dramatic entrance."

Kyle let out a ragged chuckle. "Yeah," he said, swiping his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. "They do."