Ugh. I definitely overdid it yesterday. Hard not to do with the beautiful weather though. I guess it will be a motrin kind of day…

Mike decided on another round of wearing grooves into the floor of the ER waiting area.

More than two hours had passed since they'd brought Steve in and still no word on his condition. If the current case didn't give him an ulcer, this situation would.

Scott had graciously offered to bring the frightened Chantal to the Homicide office, ensuring she was kept far away from Mavis' parents and had a police officer as a guardian with her at all times.

It was the best he could do in their current predicament.

Glancing down at the vinyl floor, he drew in a shuddered breath before looking back over at Steve's charcoal suit jacket draped over one of the plastic chairs.

The paramedics handed it to him for safekeeping, as they began to strip his partner out of his dress shirt.

By the time they arrived, his left hand was severely swollen and a laceration on the side of his wrist exposed the bone underneath. The only way to get to the injury was to cut into the cuff of the shirt; something he knew would break his partner's heart.

Mike had spent a moment with the black and whites, ensuring that the driver was cited for reckless endangerment, before following the ambulance back to Franklin.

It was the quiet ride in the empty Galaxy that ate away at his nerves. His partner belonged into the driver's seat next to him, not in the back of an ambulance. Even after the paramedics assured him that there were no obvious life-threatening injuries and Steve slowly started to come around, Mike couldn't shake the terrible image out of his mind.

The tiger cub was hungry for a kill and spotted a mouse. He ran after it in a hurry, a fast as his young legs could take him. But he didn't see the black horse that waited for him to cross his path. It was powerful and angry and stomped its hooves at the tiger. The crane saw it happen from up above, but he was too far away to interfere. In its fury, the black horse trampled the tiger cub and killed him.

Mike shivered as he remembered Rhonda's haunting words.

So close…they'd been so damn close.

Last night I woke up in a cold sweat after I saw the tiger cub curled up on the ground. He wasn't moving, his eyes were closed and his breathing labored. The crane frantically flew overhead, but he couldn't get close enough. He screamed for help, but none was nearby. He tried to land, but in his panic, he came down too hard and fast and crashed to his death.

Remembering the moment he almost collided head-on with Scott Sorrensen's squad car made him freeze in his spot. How could Rhonda have seen all this happen? Who was this woman?

Footsteps coming from behind made Mike spin around on his heels. Dressed in a white lab coat with a grey turtleneck underneath, Lenny came walking up towards him in a frantic hurry.

"I was with a patient and just got Rudy's message. What happened? How is he?"

Mike shrugged, before taking a deep breath and pointing at the ER doors.

"They're still checking him out. He got hit by a car when we tried to apprehend Chantal. Traffic got stopped and some lady in her Mustang decided that the law doesn't apply to her and rushed past the other cars. She never even slowed down. Hit him straight on. Steve never saw it coming."

The Psychiatrist nodded quietly and rubbed his chin.

"He looked horrible, Lenny.", Mike whispered as his eyes stayed fixed on the charcoal dress jacket, "When I…when I first checked him out, I was scared that he had been fatally injured…reminded me of my time back in the Pacific, when some of the guys got shot in the lungs and they were gasping for air…"

Swallowing hard, Mike accepted Lenny's warm hand on his back, offering the sole type of comfort he could think of.

"What did the paramedics say?"

"Scott Sorrensen was there, thank God. He said Steve got the wind knocked out of him…that it's only superficial stuff. Lots of bruises and scratches. But his left hand and wrist are in bad shape. He's going to have to figure out how to wear those fancy dress shirts with a cast on. And how is he going to type his reports?",

Mike voice broke and he tried himself in a weak smile, but it didn't erase the worry in his eyes.

Lenny nodded and moved the hand to his shoulder, squeezing it tightly before clearing his throat.

"I am sure Steve is going to be alright. Just sit down, will you? You're running on fumes and you look like hell. You need to settle down, or you'll be the next one going through those doors…Doctor Rowley is one of our best ER doctors. I am sure it's just taking longer because he's being extra thorough."

Grunting, Mike followed the Psychiatrist's lead, before sliding back down in the uncomfortable plastic chair.

"I know David, Lenny. He and I go way back. And I know it's taking longer because I ordered him to check Steve out head to toe."

"Of course.", Lenny said amused, before pointing at the nearby snack machine, "Would you like to eat or drink anything? When was the last time you slept?"

"Don't you start playing Psychiatrist on me now.", Mike warned as he ran a tired hand across his face, trying not to have the uncertainty of the current situation eat away at the last of his nerves.

"I am not here as a Psychiatrist, Michael. I am here as a friend. Believe it or not, I worry about you two a lot. This wasn't the type of call I was hoping to get after I just talked to you this morning…Now, you guys apprehended Chantal? …Do you want to interview her later? I'd be happy to make time and sit in on it if you need help."

Nodding slowly, Mike dropped his head to his chest, as his nervous hands kneaded the fabric of his dress pants.

"That would be helpful. I also need you in when we talk to Harry Johnson. He'll be a tough nut to crack and he's already lawyered up. I want to nail that guy to the wall with everything we have. And I need to find out who killed Mavis."

"Mike?"

Doctor Rowley came walking around the corner of the nearby corridor. Wrapping the stethoscope back around his neck, he smiled warmly at the two men rising to their feet in tense worry.

"Lenny. Nice to see you down here for a change."

"How is he, David?", cutting straight to the chase, Mike's voice was rushed and the middle-aged doctor with the wavy dark hair put a reassuring hand on his arm.

"He's going to be fine. Like I promised you earlier, we checked him out thoroughly. He was damn lucky all things considered. He is pretty banged up and has a few sore ribs from hitting the ground hard, but that will heal in a couple of weeks or so."

"Are you sure, David? He's not bleeding internally? He looked really bad."

The doctor smiled empathetically before pointing at the ER doors.

"Would you like to see the x-rays to double check?"

When the Lieutenant shook his head with a weary smile, David continued.

"Unfortunately, Steve broke his left wrist in two spots, as well as his middle and ring finger on that side. They're clean breaks so we didn't have to reset any bones. There is however significant swelling. We put a cast on and he's probably going to have to wear it for at least four to six weeks. I cleaned the laceration on his wrist and sutured it back up. It was pretty deep. I want those stitches to stay in at least ten days, they're going to have to redo the cast when they take them out. He has a concussion and should probably get checked out again in a few days, just to make sure everything is healing well. You're his emergency contact, so I am having my nurse type up some instructions for you. It's the typical works…Keep a close eye on him for a couple of days, if he starts vomiting, seems disoriented or runs a temp, bring him back in. No violent car chases, parking lot shootouts or suspect takedowns for a little while. Other than that, I will send my report over to Olson in a few minutes, recommending desk duty for four weeks. You guys can figure it out from there. I won't lie, you're pretty rough on your partners, my friend."

Mike nodded slowly and never acknowledged the doctor's joke, before shaking his hand firmly.

"Thank you so much, David. I really appreciate everything you've done…is it…is it ok if I see him?"

"Absolutely.", Doctor Rowley nodded warmly and pointed towards the ER doors, "Lenny, are you coming too?"

"No, I just came by to check on my two favorite detectives. Mike, tell Steve I said Hi. I'll be in my office working on patient files. Give me a call later if you want me to sit in on the interviews."

Nodding at the Psychiatrist in deep gratitude, Mike turned to follow the surgeon through the big double doors of the ER unit, their steps echoing through the long corridor.

"I will have him discharged in a few minutes; we were just waiting for the last IV drip to finish. He was very shocky when they brought him in, so I have him on some strong pain meds and we put a good liter of saline solution in him. He's going to be groggy for a few hours yet and it's probably going to take him several days to recover from the effects of the shock. I will tell you that he should take it easy, get plenty of rest but I know you guys won't listen. Just remember that he can't be doing any interrogations or investigative work legally until the pain meds wear off, so at least 24hrs of no work. I know the case you two are working on and to be perfectly honest, I want you to nail that bastard who killed that girl. So, we have to make sure everything goes by the book."