Another short one, but this was inspired by a post on the kmeme that involved Troy visiting the boss in the hospital. This is in that rough area between SR1 and 2, but not too long after the explosion.

It took him a few weeks before he could work up the nerve to go to the hospital. That first step inside nearly made him pull a one-eighty and march out, but he wanted to know. On some level he needed to know, and the only way to find out was to get his answers from the doctor himself instead of through hearsay at work.

The department would cut it down to the essentials also. Was she dead or alive? Was she awake? Both would get a yes or no answer and leave it at that. They wouldn't tell him just how bad the burns were, or the lengths it would take to keep her healthy and comfortable.

No, he wanted to know. Even if that knowledge would be as reassuring as a knife to the ribs.

The nurse at the front initially gave his badge a wary look, but when Troy specified who he was visiting, her expression changed entirely. "I'll get the doctor if he's available. Please wait."

He'd dressed down on purpose, but this was still police business, at least on the surface. He'd been one of the men on the scene. He'd also been one of the men closest to her in the gang. While one flew, the other didn't, and he hoped this wouldn't go too far up the chain. Half the department didn't know what to do with him right now, while the other kept on wanting to sing his praises, and he wasn't sure what he wanted to hear from them any more.

The wait stretched just long enough for him to want a cigarette, and he rubbed his fingers together as an older man exchanged a few words with the nurse he'd talked to. He then waved him over. "Officer?"

"Doctor Scott?"

"That's right, son." He shook the man's hand. "Come this way."

The two walked down the busy halls towards what Troy guessed was his office, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, one hand holding onto the pack of cigarettes waiting for him. When they kept on going, his grip tightened, and by the time they had stopped outside of one room in particular he knew he'd crushed it.

Hospital security was waiting outside, and while he knew why, he had to stop from asking them, 'Why the fuck for?' She wasn't about to get up and walk out, or shoot her way out. Still, judging by the way the guy refused to relax that was what he believed, and would keep on believing for as long as he was posted there. He kept on checking his pockets and gear, and all his fidgeting put Troy on edge, even if he had no reason to be.

Doctor Scott waited as Troy dug his badge out again - might as well flash it just to be safe – and the guard let them go inside.

He took one step in, and then another, and then he couldn't move anymore.

The doctor was talking to him, going over specifics, running down her treatment regimen, but he couldn't take his eyes off of her. Off of the person that was her, bandaged and hooked up to too many things he didn't know shit about.

It made him think of that night. How they pulled her out of the bay, and he felt cold again. Cold and absolutely helpless in every regard.

"She can't stay here much longer, Officer," Scott said after a moment, tapping his fingers on her file.

He tore his eyes away from her to stare the doctor down. "What are you talking about?"

"We took her in on short notice and that was fine, because the burns she sustained needed treatment. If we hadn't there's no guarantee she would've made it. However, now that the treatment's coming along, it would be in the hospital's best interest to relocate her."

"...Because you think she'd be a danger to the others."

"Think?" He raised an eyebrow at Troy's flat tone. "This woman's been on the news for almost a week straight. She still hasn't shown any signs of consciousness, but I'm a doctor. It's my job to take care of my patients and ensure that they will receive proper care."

"While also keeping them safe. No, I understand," Troy said, letting his eyes go to her again. "We'll help transfer her to Stilwater Pen. They can take up the reins from there."

"Good. We'll send along the paperwork so that can get started. Was there anything else you wanted to know? I believe my summary's already been filed-"

"Can I have a moment? Just to say a few words."

The doctor's sympathetic expression was almost unexpected, and Troy felt himself frown in response. "Of course. I'll be outside."

When the door shut behind him, Troy almost felt frozen to the spot. With the beeping of the heart monitor as the only sound in the room, he found it hard to breathe, and the shaky sound that came out of his mouth wasn't one that he wanted to hear.

He forced himself to turn and approach her, walking up to the side of her bed.

It was worse there, but he'd made it this far. He wasn't going to opt out of this just because he couldn't muster up the fucking nerve to stand close to her. To look down and-

His hands twitched in his pockets and he wanted to touch her. Couldn't even do that.

A small laugh slipped out and he turned his face towards the ground as he tried to compose himself. The vice tightening in his chest wasn't letting up either, and he knew he couldn't be in here much longer.

"Hey," he tried, keeping his voice steady. "I, uh, I don't even fucking know how to start this. Um, the doctor's told me that you're doing good. Making progress."

There was no way to tell with the bandages. There was too much white, on the walls, and on her. She'd hate this room and how sterile it was, and he was starting to hate it too.

"They're going to move you to the Pen. I don't know if I'll be able to fight it, but I'll see what I can do. If I can do something. I need to do something. Anything."

"Where the fuck are you? Look, I understand that sometimes shit comes up, but we need you. I need you. Please, pick up. Please. ...Troy?"

"God, I've fucked up. I've fucked up everything, haven't I?" Troy scrubbed a hand over his eyes and made himself step away. "I'm sorry, I-" He couldn't form the words. Not even now. He shook his head and went straight for the door.

"Oh, hi. Did you need anything?" the nurse at the front asked, puzzled that he was back again so soon.

"Yeah, I was wondering if there was a way to get flowers. Common courtesy and all that."

The nurse slapped a smile onto her face and Troy knew she was picking up something strange. He just didn't give a fuck right now. "Of course. You can have flowers delivered directly to their room. Any in particular you have in mind?"

"...No." He drew a blank. Nothing stood out in his mind at that moment at all. "Nothing. It's just flowers, right? Shouldn't matter."

The nurse didn't know how to react to the bitterness there and her smile faltered.

"Nothing much to them at all," he murmured, shoving his hands back in his pockets as he walked out.