Steve woke up when he felt something touch his right hand.
Fighting the sluggishness that had been his constant companion since waking up in the hospital without much of a clue as to why he was there a day or so ago, he blinked a few times, immediately feeling tears building up in his burning eyes.
The air pumping in through the nasal cannula was slowly helping him feel better, but the painful wheezing caused by his injured lungs was a somber reminder of how close he'd come to losing his life, and why the simple act of taking a deep breath was still robbing him of all his energy.
The intense CPR had cracked several ribs, Joe had showed him on an x-ray, and a few bruises and burn marks were scattered along his arms, legs and upper back, but overall, he was in decidedly good shape for a guy who was almost pronounced DOA and had in fact been turned into a human kabob had it not been for Mike's stubborn and heroic feat of entering a hallway fully engulfed in flames, looking for his partner with no regard to his own safety.
If all went well, he'd be back to cruising the streets with his best friend again in a few short weeks, a delightful outlook for somebody currently trapped in a hospital bed feeling as though he was eighty years old.
When he finally fought for his eyes to open, he could see the blurry outline of a dark figure sitting quietly next to him, the black fedora and sunken shoulders a dead giveaway.
With the widest smile he could manage, Steve reached up with his left hand, and pulled the nasal cannula off his face.
"Don't be doing that.", the Lieutenant scolded and tried to put it back in place, but Steve pulled his head away.
"Gotta learn sooner or later to live off room-temperature air again…", he joked, perturbed by how hoarse his voice sounded even a couple days after the incident, "How long you've been here?"
"Half hour.", Mike said calmly and leaned back in the chair, before returning his hand to cover Steve's, "Joe thought you might be coming around a bit better by today, so I thought I'd wait and see if you wake up. At least you stopped ripping out all the wires they got stuck on and in you."
"If you'd have had the same experience I've had with a wire…"
"I know, I know.", Mike mumbled soothingly and patted his chest, "Joe was worried that this whole…ordeal may have fried a few of your circuits, but I told him you're just being your pretentious and unruly self."
"Pretentious? How long did it take you to look that one up in the dictionary, Lieutenant?"
They both tried to laugh, and ended up in a painful coughing spell instead, causing the nearby monitors to beep faster.
When he finally caught his breath again, Steve carefully turned his head to get a better look at his partner.
"How are you feeling? You're looking a little under the weather yourself still."
"I'm…I'm alright.", Mike tried to reassure him, and yet unable to hide the truth from his best friend, "It's just been a busy couple days. Dealing with people, not having you around, finishing up the case as I am trying to keep the press at bay. I'd be lying if I said that it's not been draining my batteries.
"How are things going with the McMillan's these days?"
"Oh well…", taking his time to carefully think about his next words, Mike looked down for a moment, then smiled, his eyes remaining somber, "Eric is basking in the cities' eternal gratitude for showing us Homicide cops how to solve a murder case. Tre stopped by the office yesterday, seeing if we wanted to put on some formal thank-you ceremony and I told her…well, you see, I ehm…I told her not to come back into my life…ever…again."
Sharing the smile, Steve shook his head, knowing how to read between the lines to figure out what had really happened.
"You made her cry, didn't you? That was very…improper of you, Lieutenant…"
"Not cry. But she did look like she was about to have a stroke when she stormed out of the office. As far as Erin is concerned, she's dead. I got word about two hours ago when I was meeting with Gerry down at the DA's office to file formal charges against her. Apparently, somebody in jail didn't appreciate her way of thinking and her elaborate speeches about righteousness, ripped an electrical cord out of some cooking appliance near the mess hall and strangled her to death when nobody was watching. I am currently looking into what exactly happened and who's to blame for the oversight, but that's the preliminary explanation I received from the warden."
"That's some strange poetic justice if you were to ask me…", Steve said, having an increasingly hard time staying awake.
"Not the type I like. I was looking forward to having her live out her full sentence."
"Yeah, me too. I guess I owe you an apology. You were right about Erin from the beginning. I should have seen that coming."
Shaking his head slightly, Mike smiled again.
"Sometimes the truth is so obvious, right there in front of us, that we can't see it. That happens, Buddyboy…Oh, by the way, I may have snuck in a Reuben sandwich for you. Feel like eating something? Joe said you need to start eating people food again, you can't keep living off those juices they're pumping into your veins. Amber brought up some baked goods for you yesterday too, but the guys got to the box before I could save its contents. It was a feeding frenzy. Not safe for me to interfere. That sandwich though, oh it sure smells good. Doesn't it make you want to devour the whole thing in one sitting?"
Patting the hand Mike had kept on his chest, Steve slowly shook his head.
"How about we do that tomorrow? I don't think I am up for the challenge quite yet."
He could see the slight disappointment in his partner's eyes, before Mike cocked his head in understanding, his lower lip twitching as if wanting to say something, but holding back.
"Tomorrow it is. In the morning. As soon as you wake up, okay? You know I'll be here to supervise."
"You got a deal.", Steve replied, then reached over to tap his partner's knee.
"You haven't said anything about it yet…you ehm…you're having any more nightmares?"
"No.", Mike answered too fast, his features softening the more he thought about the question, "I…ehm…I didn't sleep the night this…this whole fiasco here happened. For obvious reasons. But…but I slept last night and there was nothing. No dream at all. Everything…it was all…gone…"
Nodding slowly, Steve turned his head toward the barren ceiling, swallowing some of the bitter taste left behind from the smoke, before continuing.
"What do you think was the defining difference between your dreams ending in me dying and in reality…me surviving? I mean, if I'm gonna be partners with a guy who can change fate just like that, I need to know how he did it. To…you know…learn…in case I need that magic hat trick."
Squeezing his shoulder amicably, Mike chuckled, nearly suffering from another coughing spell, and then reached for his small glass of water.
"I don't know, Buddyboy, I really couldn't tell you. I guess the only thing we did different was that we…that we, you know…that we didn't quit. You didn't and I didn't. And I am…incredibly grateful for that."
With his eyes drifting shut, as the overwhelming exhaustion lulled him back into dreamland, Steve never saw his partner's eyes well up with tears, as Mike bit his bottom lip before hiding the emotional outbreak from a rollercoaster of a case amongst another sip of water.
"Well, I am going to…let you be. You need to get some more rest. But just so you know, we gotta get you back to work. The guys are considering forming a union against me. Saying without you around to diffuse my temper, I am unusually…stern, downright mean. Norm said he'll be by later to see if he can bail you out of the hospital a day or so earlier."
Using the last of his energy, Steve smiled.
"Takes somebody half your age to handle that…overwhelmingly cantankerous disposition of yours. Always told you that."
He could feel Mike slide the nasal cannula back in place and brush some of the hair from his forehead, before sitting down again in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, deciding to resume his position as a quiet guardian for a little while longer.
"Cantankerous disposition? Where do you come up with that?", the Lieutenant replied facetiously, then suddenly froze in his spot, "Hey…I am smelling something besides the hospital. Cough syrup. Why am I…did she…did that massage lady friend of yours stop by?"
When he didn't answer right away, Mike leaned closer to his partner's face, where some of the enticing aroma of Rachel's essential oils was still lingering.
"You're telling me you feel too weak to eat, but you have time to…to mess around with that odd smelling woman I have yet to meet?"
With no energy left to speak, Steve opened his eyes just a slit, enough to meet Mike's for a precious few seconds, adding one last round of wordless bantering.
"I know, I know, you and your priorities. Sleep. Women. Food. All in that order, I get it. Should have known that. What was I thinking?"
As Mike's quiet joking continued on, Steve allowed himself to drift back to the healing darkness of sleep, feeling his partner's hand return on top of his.
And there it would stay for the next few hours, as two weary detectives celebrated life and friendship in their own special way.
