A/N: Okay, so that cliffie was just evil, but some of your reactions had me literally laughing out loud. As requested, I got this chapter out as quickly as possible to make up for it. Thank you to all who take the time to review, PM, favorite and follow. You all are amazing and make this so much fun.

Chapter 24

Ranger POV

I had only been in Miami for a few days, but I was glad to be back in New Jersey. Originally, I had planned to take Julie out for dinner and fly back to Newark in the morning. Plans changed when Rachael called to say Julie had come home sick from school and told me Julie would have to do dinner with me another time. With no reason to stay longer, I rebooked my ticket to a flight leaving in just a few hours and called Tank to let him know I was arriving in Philly at 1900 hours.

Tank was waiting for me when I arrived and we spent the ride back to Trenton discussing the issues I had gone to Miami to address and some changes I was considering. One of the many reasons Tank was second in command at Rangeman was because I could trust him to give me his honest opinion. No one would ever accuse Tank of being a 'Yes' man. Traffic was light and the forty minute ride from the airport to Trenton flew by.

We were on Route 1 approaching the Market Street exit when the emergency alert sounded on both our phones. I looked at the notification on the screen and barked out "Morelli's house."

The alert indicated that Stephanie's panic button had been activated and the GPS locator was showing her on Slater St. We were only about ten minutes away and I knew Tank would be able to make it in less. While Tank drove I called the control room. "Report."

"Sir, Steph's panic button was activated three minutes ago. The GPS is showing her at Morelli's house. Hal and Binkie are the closest unit to her location and are on their way. ETA seven minutes. I've tried to reach her cell phone but there is no response," Vince replied.

"Tank and I are en route. ETA about the same. Has anything gone out over the emergency band?" I asked. If there were gunshots, fire or an explosion, one of Morelli's neighbors would have already called it in. If Morelli had hurt my Babe I didn't want Trenton PD there to witness what I was going to do to him.

"Negative, sir." At least we had an idea of what hadn't happened. With Steph, it was always a crap shoot.

"Continue to monitor the emergency band and keep trying to reach her." I disconnected and focused on reining in my emotions. I told myself my Babe was not the same person she had been before I left on my assignment. Steph had been training, learning to be comfortable with a gun and taking her safety seriously. When Tank told me she had asked for a panic button, I realized just how much she had changed. I would have been happier if she had stayed at Rangeman, but I also understood why she hadn't.

We pulled onto Slater St and I didn't see the other Rangeman vehicle. Morelli's car was parked in front of his house and Steph's car was parked half a block down. I called Hal and told him to park in the alley behind the house and come in from the back. Tank killed the lights on our vehicle and parked four cars behind Morelli's SUV. We each slipped an earbud in and drew our weapons as we got out. There were two clicks in my earbud signaling that Hal and Binkie were in place at the back of the house. I ordered Hal and Binkie to hold their position as we walked toward the front of the house.

"Sir, we just picked up emergency services being dispatched to Morelli's house. The cop called it in. Requested police and ambulance. He reports one dead, one injured." Vince's voice was professional and dispassionate, but I knew this was affecting him as much as every other man on this channel.

Any effort at stealth was gone as I hit the porch and planted my boot directly above the doorknob. The door crashed open and my eyes swept over the scene at my feet. Morelli was on the floor behind Steph and a man I recognized as Marcel Chagall. Morelli's hand went toward his weapon as we stepped in.

"Do it, Morelli. Give me an excuse." I growled. Morelli stopped and held up both hands. Hal came up behind Morelli and removed the weapon from the holster at his back. Morelli's shirt was half off and there was a rubber tourniquet and a stun gun on the floor. There was also a small leather zippered pouch on the floor in front of Chagall.

"Get him away from her," I said to Tank as I moved closer to try to determine how badly Steph was hurt.

"She's breathing but not responding. I don't know how badly she's hurt and I didn't dare move her. Chagall is dead," Morelli said as Tank pulled him back. I put my fingers against her neck and felt her pulse. It was weak, but it was there.

I felt for a pulse in Chagall's neck but there was nothing. He was laying on his side and Steph's cuffs were still across his neck. Her wrists were cut and bleeding from the metal digging into her skin. When she passed out, she had rolled back away from his back as far as her arms would let her. Once the cuffs were released she would roll on to her back. I tried to assess her injuries but I could only see half of her body. There was dried blood and a fresh bruise on her face. It looked like her nose had been broken. I didn't know what she might have for internal injuries, so I braced her back as Binkie unlocked the first bracelet and slid it gently off her wrist. I carefully lifted her arm off Chagall and rested in against her side.

Hal came back through the kitchen with the first aid kit from his vehicle. He pulled out the emergency blanket and laid it over her as best as he could with me pressed up against her back. There was nothing more we could do for her until the ambulance arrived.

"Talk," I said to Morelli, who was being held at by an angry looking Tank.

Morelli glared at Tank. "You can let go of my arm. I'm not going anywhere." Tank looked at me and I gave a small nod. Tank released Morelli's arm and I couldn't hold back the smirk from the bruise that was already forming where Tank's hand had been.

Morelli pushed his arm back through his sleeve but didn't bother buttoning up his shirt as he started pacing in the small living area. "I got a text from Steph saying she really needed to see me and practically begging me to come home. I thought she had finally come to her senses and was ready to get back together. Anyway, I was working on a stake out down on Stark Street but nothing was happening, so I left. I figured I'd head back after we ah, you know, made up."

It was a good thing I couldn't get up from where I was sitting holding my Babe, because I would have pounded the arrogant little prick right then and there. For about the hundredth time, I wondered how she put up with him.

Morelli ran his hand through his hair as he continued. "Anyway, when I walked in I saw Steph's bloody face and the smashed coffee table, but before I could even draw my weapon I was stun gunned. When I woke up, they were both lying on the floor like you saw them. I checked for a pulse and called 911."

"What's with the shirt and the tourniquet?" I asked.

Morelli shrugged. "I can only guess, and it's pure conjecture. When I came to, my shirt was half off and I had a tourniquet around my arm. The bag in front of Chagall looks like a drug kit. There's a hypodermic and what I'm guessing might be heroin in the bag. There's another needle sticking out of Chagall's stomach. Looks like he fell on the needle he was planning to use on me." Morelli's cop face had slipped into place as he said this.

I raised an eyebrow. "He fell on his own needle. Is that the story you're going with?" I asked. Morelli nodded once. It really made no difference to me. The bastard was dead and no longer posed a threat to my Babe. I was just surprised Morelli had the balls to do it.

The street lit up with emergency strobe lights and Carl Costanza and Big Dog were first on the scene. Once they determined it was secure, the EMT's were allowed to enter. A back board was slid in between me and Steph and I eased myself away from her so they could work. As she was rolled onto her back, they moved the emergency blanket and for the first time we saw the jagged piece of wood protruding from her side. The side of her shirt was plastered against her skin and there was a bloody smear on the floor where she had been laying. The position of her body had been applying pressure to the wound, but now that pressure was gone.

We all had seen enough chest wounds to know the bloody froth meant her lung had been punctured. One of the EMT's ripped open a sterile dressing and started applying pressure while the other strapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm. He looked at me and asked "Can you guys get her out to the bus on the back board. We need to get her to the hospital, stat."

I grabbed the board by her head and Tank grabbed the bottom. On three, we hoisted the board and moved as gently as we could out the door. The EMT continued to apply pressure to the wound at her side while the other was on the two-way relaying information to the hospital so they could be ready for her as soon as we arrived. I could hear the strain in his voice as he reeled off the dangerously low blood pressure numbers.

We set her on the gurney in the back of the ambulance and strapped her down. I moved around to her side and told the medic I'd keep the pressure on while he got the oxygen started. Tank jumped out the back, slammed the doors and pounded twice against the side of the vehicle. It was only a short ride to St. Francis and the emergency department was waiting to take her in as soon as we got there. A nurse took over my position and I was ordered out of the way as my Babe was hustled through the doors to the surgical suite.

Tank, Hal and Binkie arrived within minutes of each other. Tank told me the cops were still going over the scene, but it looked like Steph had been clearing her things out of Morelli's house when Chagall had gotten the jump on her. Morelli was sticking to his story about Chagall falling on the needle and I knew no one was going to bother to question the story too much.

Before long, the waiting room was a sea of black. Steph was one of us, and every man who wasn't working was waiting to hear that she was going to be okay. Helen, Frank and Edna were seated on one of the vinyl covered couches and every so often I noticed one of my men would offer to go get them food or something to drink. It was almost 0200 hours before the doctor came out to give us an update. He seemed taken aback by the mass of humanity that surged forward as he entered the waiting room.

"Mr. Manoso?" he asked, looking around to see who would step forward. I indicated to the Plum's that they should join me as we walked over to the doctor.

"I'm Carlos Manoso. These are Steph's parents and grandmother. How is she?"

"I'm Dr. Harris, the surgeon who worked on Ms Plum. She's holding her own. She has a punctured lung, two broken ribs, a broken nose and a fractured cheekbone. Both of her wrists are badly cut and swollen, but the x-rays did not show any fractures. The surgery to repair the tear in her lung went well and, barring any further complications, she should make a full recovery," the doctor replied.

"Can we see her?" Helen asked.

"We'll be moving her into ICU shortly. Once we get her settled, immediate family can go in one at a time for just a few minutes. Are you her husband, Mr. Manoso?" he asked me.

Before I could reply Helen looked the doctor square in the face and answered, "Yes, he is." The waiting room was wall to wall bodies and no one said a word. I felt the corners of my mouth tip up as I nodded to the doctor.

I sent the rest of the men home to get some rest. A nurse came to escort us to the ICU waiting room. It was another hour before we were told we could each go in for two minutes. The nurse explained that Steph was being kept sedated while she was on the ventilator, but it was very likely that she could still hear what we were saying. She also warned us not to be alarmed by the way she looked. I knew the drill. I had experienced ICU from both the door and the bed. I wasn't sure how well Steph's mother was going to handle seeing her daughter with tubes coming out of everywhere, though.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until she has been moved to a regular room?" I asked Helen.

"Mr. Manoso, I appreciate that you are trying to spare me, but that is my daughter in there. I will not walk away just because it is hard to see her like this. The women in this family are stronger than you might realize," she replied with a defiant tilt of her chin.

"Ma'am, I meant no disrespect. And I am starting to understand just how seriously I've underestimated the women in your family in the past. I won't make that mistake in the future." As I tried to make amends, I noticed a small smile on Frank's face. I suspected he knew exactly how tough the women in his family were.

Helen went in first and then Grandma Mazur. Both had tears in their eyes when they stepped out of the room. We sat in silence while we waited for Frank to come back out of Steph's room. It was now close to 0500 hours and I knew the Plums must be exhausted. Fortunately, they only lived a few blocks from the hospital. I sent them all home to get some rest and told them I would let them know if anything changed.

Once they were gone, I went in to see my Babe. Her nose had been taped and she had two black eyes. The contrast against her pale face was stark. I took her hand, being careful not to disturb the IV line, and kissed her gently on the forehead.

"Babe." I said. What I meant was I love you, I'm afraid to lose you, I don't want to live without you. I was starting to see what she had meant about communication. I just hoped she understood what I was saying. I pulled the chair from the corner up beside the bed and positioned it so I was close to her head. I mindlessly played with her curls as I started talking softly to her. I told her about growing up in Newark, about my parents and my Abuela Rosa and my brothers and sisters. I told her about the time my brother dared me to kiss Miranda Sanchez and how she slapped me when I tried. I talked to her about everything and nothing. I just wanted her to know I was there.

The doctor was in to check on her sometime mid-morning and said everything looked good. He said if she continued to improve, the ventilator would be removed later in the day and they would start to bring her out of sedation.

The nurse was in regularly. She had long ago given up on trying to make me leave. Once when she came to check on Steph, she brought a bottle of water and left it on the table beside me. I nodded my thanks and continued talking to my Babe. The only time I left her side was to use the bathroom when the need became overwhelming. The shifts changed and a new nurse appeared. Once in a while a fresh bottle of water appeared, but no one said another word about me being in the room.

Late in the day the doctor returned. "Mr. Manoso, we are going to start weaning your wife off the ventilator." The phrase 'my wife' took me aback for a second until I remembered Helen's deception to get me into ICU. "As long as she can continue to breathe on her own, we will remove it completely. Once the ventilator has been removed, we'll stop the sedative and allow her to wake up. If all goes well, we could be moving her out of ICU and into a room as early as tomorrow."

Over the next hour or so, the nurse would appear periodically to adjust the ventilator. I knew they were slowly turning back the pressure to allow Steph's body the chance to take over. I kept up my dialogue throughout to process, talking to her about Miami and Rangeman and Julie. I didn't want her to get scared or think she was alone. Finally, the doctor returned and gave the order to have the ventilator removed completely.

I knew it could take hours for the sedatives to wear off and I wanted to be there when she woke up, but I knew I looked like shit and didn't want to upset her. I texted Tank and asked him to bring me a razor and a change of clothes. One of the nurses directed me to a locker room where I could shower and shave.

I opened the bag and smiled, knowing Ella had packed the bag. Besides a razor and a change of clothes, there was a bottle of my shower gel that my Babe loved so much. Ella had also packed a small cooler with a turkey sandwich, a bottle of water, containers of sliced apples, strawberries and carrots, and several protein bars. I realized I had not eaten anything since I left Miami and I was suddenly starved. I opened one of the protein bars and it was gone in three bites.

Ten minutes later, I was showered and shaved. I had eaten the sandwich and another protein bar and was anxious to be back to Steph. I knew she wouldn't wake up this quickly, but I didn't like being away from her.

Over the next few hours I continued my bedside vigil, talking or dozing with my head on the edge of her bed. I made sure I was always touching her so even if I was quiet she would know I was there. I was telling her about my mother's creamy, delicious flan drizzled with homemade caramel sauce when I felt a soft squeeze from the hand I had been holding. I wasn't sure if it was a muscle twitch or an intentional squeeze.

"Would you like me to make you flan sometime, Babe?" I asked, knowing if anything was going to bring her awake it was that thought of dessert. I felt another squeeze and knew she was finally waking. I paged the nurse to let her know and to ask for some ice chips. Having spent some time on a ventilator myself, I knew Steph's throat would be sore and the ice would help.

The nurse came in with the ice, checked the monitors and said everything looked good. As she was leaving, she said she'd let the doctor know and to call if I needed anything. The only thing I needed was to see my Babe's beautiful blue eyes. I kept her hand in mine and started telling her about all my favorite dishes that my mom made while I was growing up. As I tried to describe the smells and tastes of my childhood I felt her hand moving under mine. Looking down at the small, white hand engulfed by my larger, darker hand, I was momentarily distracted by the contrasts between the two of us.

"Ranger." Her voice was low and harsh sounding from the tube that had been down her throat. Startling slightly, I looked back at her face to see those incredible eyes looking at me. "You need to be more aware of your surroundings," she whispered hoarsely.

"Babe." For once, I knew she understood that what I meant to say was I love you.