Logan POV
I sat down on the side bench in the back of the ambulance and then pulled out my phone to call Liz.
"Calling the doc?" Maas mumbled.
He was on a gurney, but it sounded like he was finally breathing a little bit easier. Maybe he didn't have a cracked rib after all.
"I don't think you need her services just yet," he continued. "Hopefully, I don't either."
"Nobody's gonna need an ME, right Garner?" I said, glancing up to look at the attending paramedic.
"A coroner? Shit no. You guys are golden."
"Hear that, Cap? We're golden," I said wryly as I dialed the number.
And I can try to say that I was calling for her benefit, so that she wouldn't worry, but the truth was that I really wanted to hear her voice.
I was feeling light-headed and sick to my stomach and I just wanted to be able to turn it all off.
"Are you okay?" she answered nervously.
"I'm fine," I said immediately.
"Then why do I hear sirens?"
"Maas and I got a little banged up, but we're okay."
"Banged up? As in shot?"
"In the vest," I deflected.
"Which hospital?"
"Which hospital?" I asked Garner.
"Kings County," he replied. I passed on the information.
"No. Uh uh. Tell him you want to go to Bellevue."
"The boss says Bellevue," I relayed.
"Not my boss," Garner argued. "We have to go to the closest ER. That's Kings County."
I didn't even repeat what he said to Liz.
I didn't have to. She heard him.
"Give him the phone," she insisted.
I handed off my cell phone to the paramedic and waited all of fifteen seconds until he handed it back to me and shouted up to the driver, "Make it Bellevue!"
I chuckled as I put the phone to my ear, but then another wave of nausea passed through me, and I did a quick visual scan for an emesis basin.
"Mike?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
Garner saw my dilemma and grabbed a paper bag, shoving it in front of my face.
"I'll meet you there, okay?"
"Uh huh," I managed to say and then I tossed down the phone and grabbed the bag with my good hand.
I'd planned to call Maas' wife for him after I spoke with Liz, but instead I spent the rest of the ambulance ride emptying the contents of my stomach into the brown paper sack.
"I'm going to off-load the captain first," Garner advised me as we came to a stop. "My partner will be around to get you."
"I'm fine right here," I mumbled with my face still in the bag. I couldn't seem to stop my stomach's revolt.
I kept my eyes closed, with my head down between my knees, as I felt the ambulance rock during Maas' departure. My hand throbbed like a son of a bitch, and I just wanted to be home.
No, not home.
I wanted to be at Liz's house, on the rug in front of a fire. With her in my arms, of course.
"Detective? Come on, let's get you inside," the second paramedic said to me.
"Give me a minute."
"No, I need to get you checked out," he insisted rudely.
I started to respond, but then was hit with another round of nausea, so instead I ignored him completely.
He kept talking, seemingly oblivious to my plight.
"Mike?" I heard Liz say, although I was still too sick to look up.
"Ma'am, you can't be out here."
"I have privileges in this hospital," she informed him sharply.
"I'm just trying to get him onto the gurney so we can take him inside."
I finally lifted my head from the bag and unloaded on the paramedic.
"I don't need your fucking gurney. If you would leave me the fuck alone for five fucking minutes then I'll walk in the goddamn ER myself!"
"Hey, man, I'm just trying to help," he retorted.
I continued to glare at him and he finally backed off.
"Five minutes is all you get," he told me. He hopped down and Liz climbed in to take his place. I could still hear him talking as he walked away. "I can't leave the rig parked here all goddamn night, you unappreciative fuck."
"Can you believe that guy?" I asked weakly.
"You didn't just get shot in the vest," she admonished lightly as she knelt down in front of me. She carefully lifted my hand, which had completely bled through the make-shift bandage. "The paramedic did this?"
"I did. I told them to focus on Maas," I admitted.
"And they listened?"
I shrugged, but the motion caused me to be sick again.
Although this time, it didn't seem quite as bad since Liz was running her hand over my head in a soothing manner.
"You've got a fever," she said quietly. "We need to get you started on some Cefroxadine and Compazine and you need a CT scan on your abdomen and your hand has to be x-rayed and probably stitched…"
"Is that your way of telling me to get my ass out of this rig?" I said, once again lifting my head to look at her.
"It's my way of…coping with seeing you like this," she said quietly.
"Well, if you still love me after watching me puke my guts out…"
"That's not what I meant."
"I know," I said. I took in a deep breath in an effort to steady my system. "Okay, I think I can do this."
She got to her feet and then bent over and wrapped her arm around my waist so that she could help me up.
"Are you sure?" she asked when I swayed slightly.
"No. But let's give it a shot and see where we end up."
I managed to make it inside of the ER where we were met by two nurses.
"The paramedic said you were refusing service," one of them said accusingly. "So you want us to help you now?"
"I wasn't…" I began, but then Liz took over, flashing her OCME ID at the nurse.
"The paramedic was trying to bully the patient while he was vomiting. He just needed a minute to get control of himself. Now, what room's open?"
"Trauma six," the other nurse answered.
"Good. I'll take him in there while you page Dr. Snow. And get me a status on Stanley Maas."
"Dating a doctor has its benefits," I said as she helped me into the empty room. "Who's this Dr. Snow?"
"He's the best," she answered.
"No, you're the best," I argued.
I gingerly sat down on the bed while Liz searched through the cabinets. I was still wearing my vest, so I started tugging at it with my left hand.
After a minute, she came over and set a basin next to me on the bed and then took over the task of removing my vest.
She paused briefly, her gaze settling on the damage that had been done to the armor.
"Please tell me that Hassan is in custody," she said in an even tone.
"Either that or he's dead," I answered. "He was hanging on by a thread when I left."
She breathed out a sigh of relief and then resumed her task. She got me out of the vest and then kept going, removing my shirt as well.
"Lay back," she instructed, her gaze focused on my stomach.
"It's just a bruise."
"It's a hell of a bruise," she said, running her hand lightly over the already blue-tinted skin. "How's the nausea?"
"Better. Although I can't imagine there's anything left in there."
I reached down and settled my hand on top of hers, stilling the movements. I started to apologize, although for what I'm not sure. I just felt bad for worrying her so much.
But before I could say the words, the doors opened.
"Dr. Rodgers? It is you," a man asked as he entered the room. He smiled broadly and said, "I heard you were here, but I wasn't sure until I saw all of the nurses cowering."
"Dr. Snow, meet Detective Logan. He's got a through and through to the right hand and a blunt force abdominal injury."
"Ah, the result of a bullet to Kevlar," he stated knowingly as he walked around to the other side of the bed. "You came in with Stanly Maas, right?"
"That's right. How is he?"
"Two cracked ribs and I'm thinking it'll take a couple dozen stitches to sew up his arm," he said. "But he'll be out of here in a few hours. Now let's see if I'll be able to say the same thing about you."
Four hours later, I was still in the trauma room.
Earlier, I'd been cleared for internal bleeding and instead diagnosed with an abdominal wall contusion.
"Which actually is internal bleeding since a contusion is the result of blood leaking from damaged vessels," Liz had muttered after the nurse's declaration.
"Yes, Dr. Rodgers. I understand the definition of a contusion. The diagnosis refers to the lack of significant damage to any organs."
"Wow, they love you here, don't they, Doc?" I teased her.
I was feeling a lot better since they'd pumped me full of anti-nausea medication, antibiotics and morphine.
She rolled her eyes at me and then pinned the nurse with a stare.
"What about his hand? He still needs to go to radiology."
"The portable will be here any minute," the nurse replied stiffly and then she left us alone.
That had been two hours ago.
Goren and Eames had shown up not long after.
"What took you so long?" I asked them.
"Are you kidding me? We had to wait on the entire alphabet," Eames answered. "The ME, FBI, CSU and IAB."
"Hassan?" I questioned.
"Dead," Goren said.
"Thank God," Liz remarked. "Which ME was it?"
"Faulkner," Goren answered. "He's kind of…"
"Annoying? Tell me about it," Liz said. "But he's okay."
"It shouldn't be too difficult," I commented. "COD is gunshot wounds, all the way around."
"Yeah, but they have to determine whose was the fatal shot," Eames said.
"Right. For IAB. But does it really matter? I mean, the bad guys are dead. The good guys prevailed."
"It just has to be documented."
"Did you stop by and see Maas?" I asked them.
"Yeah, he's doing okay. Moran's in with him now. They're going to release him as soon as his IV finishes."
"His wife never came?"
"I didn't see her," Eames said. "Nice, huh?"
"He shouldn't wait for her to kick him out," Goren remarked. "He should just go."
I felt bad for him, sitting in the ER alone.
Well, with Moran, but still…
I'd probably still be face-first inside of a barf bag in the back of the ambulance if it weren't for Liz.
"So what happened after I got Maas out of the building?" I asked, reaching out my good hand to take hold of Liz's. I just wanted that contact.
She sat down on the edge of my bed as Goren and Eames filled us in on what had happened.
At one point during their recount, the portable x-ray machine was brought in and pictures were taken of my hand, but then the tech left on the promise of the doctor returning shortly with the results.
"Gino really came through for you guys," Liz commented when Goren and Eames finished telling their version of events. "And this guy Enzo…it's a little scary that he just happened to know how to defuse a bomb, but I'm glad he did."
"There was a little over a minute on the timer," Goren said. "We probably could've gotten far enough away."
"Yeah, but we didn't even know the timer was there until he started poking around."
"True."
"What's going to happen to Gino?"
"He's in lock-up at 1PP," Goren said. "Alex flexed her muscle."
"With who? The FBI?"
"Casteel was pretty ticked," she said with a nod. "After all, he did kill a federal agent."
"A dirty federal agent," I stated. "And his intent was just to beat him up. Doesn't it count for something that he saved all of our lives? If he'd followed through with Hassan's orders, who knows what would've happened?"
"It counts," Eames said. "That's why I wanted him to stay with us for now until I can make sure he gets some kind of deal."
"What did Moran say?"
"We have a meeting in his office on Monday morning. We'll go over the video of the incident and we'll have to answer any questions that may arise."
"But he was pretty happy," Goren added. "Once again, the NYPD triumphed where the FBI failed."
I didn't care about the whole turf war. All I needed to be happy was for that doctor to come in here and tell me my hand would be fine and then sign off on my discharge papers.
"Detective Logan," Dr. Snow said, coming into the room right as I was thinking about him.
"Give me the good news, Doc."
"Fractured metacarpal number five," he answered quickly as he jammed the x-ray onto the light board. "Right here. You're pretty damn lucky, that's all I can say. Small caliber bullet, high velocity…just in and out."
He clicked the light back off and then walked over to me, picking up my injured hand.
"I'll do an open debridement, maybe throw in a few sub-q's, and then I'll stitch up both sides."
"Sounds simple enough," I said, although I looked to Liz as I spoke since he was using doc-speak, but she nodded at me encouragingly.
"That's great," she told him. "But if it's going to take three more hours to do all of that, maybe I can just do it."
"It's Saturday night in the ER, Rodgers," Snow replied. "If you want to take the detective off my hands, then he's all yours. I'll send in the nurse to get you set up."
So Liz took care of my hand.
Goren and Eames went home, promising to check in on me tomorrow.
Maas stopped by on his way out, too, along with Moran.
"That should do it," Liz said, scooting back to admire her work. "You're an excellent patient."
"That's not all I'm good at."
"Mike," she said, laughing and shaking her head. "You were shot. We've been in the ER for more than six hours. Are you really flirting with me?"
"Well, Snow did say that I was all yours."
"I didn't need Snow to tell me that," she said, leaning down to kiss me lightly on the cheek. "Let me go get your discharge papers and then I'll take you home."
She got up from the stool and headed for the doors.
"Home?" I questioned.
"Yeah, my place," she answered with a smile.
I settled back against the pillow and let out a heavy sigh.
Home sounded great to me.
TBC...
