Chapter 5

A heavy sigh dragged itself up from Ranger's chest as he leaned his head against the headrest allowing his eyes to drift closed. Ordinarily, after such an extended mission he would make use of the facilities made available to him to rest and recuperate before returning to his life, but this time was different. Following his regular, mandatory debriefing, medical examination and clearance, and a solid six hours of sleep, he'd managed to gather all his superiors into one room to discuss something that was long overdue: the end of his contract."

Tank, Bobby and Lester had all gotten out five years ago, feeling the wear and tear of the job on both their physical and mental wellbeing, but Ranger had felt his duty wasn't complete. There was still more for him to do and achieve. More innocent lives to save. They'd thought he was an idiot, had tole him outright that he was making a mistake, but he hadn't listened to them at the time. He'd felt the need to continue, and so he had. After all, he was the master of his own fate.

That didn't mean they'd taken the news lightly, though. Ranger remembered the meeting distinctly; could still feel the phantom ache in his ribs from the follow up in the gym the same afternoon when all three of his most trusted friends had tried their damnedest to beat some sense into him.

"You've done more than your fair share for the army and the government," Bobby had growled, mashing Ranger's face into the mats with his knew.

"What kind of CEO disappears at the drop of the hat to go fight other people's battles?" Tank had demanded while Ranger lay on his back, utterly winded from the round house kick that had connected with his stomach. "Thinking of the company you've built, the clients you've worked hard to build trust with. What happens if you're called up while in the middle of dealing with a high priority security case?"

Both of their arguments were valid, but easily waved off as he explained the conditions he'd had written into his new contract. When Lester had stepped into the ring to take over where Tank had left off, though, he'd felt his resolve waver. Lester tried his own spin on all the points Bobby and Tank had tried before him, battering Ranger with questions along with his punches. Ranger was exhausted by that point, which was his excuse for how Lester had managed to pin him.

"What about Steph?" he'd seethed in Ranger's ear, barely loud enough to be heard over both their ragged breathing.

His stomach had dropped to his knees. He hadn't factored Stephanie Plum into his decision. And he was just now realising that he should have. So much for being a expert strategist.

Shrugging it off as best he could, Ranger had flipped himself and Lester over so that he had the upper hand again, and informed him in no uncertain terms that Stephanie Plum wasn't an issue. "She's with the cop," he'd said, like that told him everything they needed to know.

But they all knew better.

Of course, Ranger liked Steph! She was spontaneous, and smart, and determined, and she made him think about settling down. Unfortunately, he'd still been on a high from the successful mission and in a zone when he'd been in the meeting with his superiors and was only focused on the good he could still do for the world, not the good he could do for his heart. Or the heart of one blue-eyed, curly-haired woman.

Unfortunately, by the time his core team had illuminated the fatal flaw in his plan, Ranger had already signed on the dotted line, and the paperwork had been filed. His fate was sealed. So what followed was five long years of trying and failing to deny his feelings for the woman who had one hundred percent stolen her way into his heart from the first time they'd met.

He'd tried keeping his distance, both physically and emotionally, but the problem was, Steph had a way of turning up when he least expected, and every time he saw her, he just wanted to drag her into his arms and never let go.

Sometimes, the urge was so strong that he had her pinned against the alley wall with her soft, supple lips pressing against his own before he remembered that pursuing a relationship while he was still at the mercy of his stupid government contract was a terrible idea. The last thing he wanted to do was build her hopes up with promises of forever only to have his life snatched away from him in an undisclosed location while following orders from men Ranger was eighty-seven percent sure set their priorities on details other than ensuring his survival. His job was to get the task done. So long as that happened, it didn't really matter to them if he made it back to American soil or any loved ones he may or may not have left behind.

It was a harsh reality to swallow now that he'd acknowledged the fact that he definitely had feelings for Steph, but instead of letting it stew in the back of his mind, he'd channelled all his determination into making sure that not only was a mission successful in terms of his prescribed objective, but he made it out of whatever hellscape he was dropped into alive.

It was a good thing he was so good at his job, otherwise Ranger never would have made it to this point. A point where he could finally hang up his cape and stop living his life on the borders of those he loved. He'd spoken to his superiors, adamantly declined one last jaunt, even when they'd lowered the contract period to two years, sweetened the deal with various perks and privileges, and then, in an obvious fit of desperation, lowered it again to one year. They weren't happy to see him go, but Ranger figured that he'd earned the right to rest and relax and finally do all the things he'd been too afraid to do while he was a slave to the government.

A smile played at his lips as Ranger ran a hand over the box he held in his lap. The first thing on his new bucket list was to declare his someday with Steph.

They'd had a conversation in the dead of night about a month before Ranger had been called up for what would be his final mission. He'd been puzzling over a case and felt the need to clear his head and calm his mind so he could see things with a fresh perspective. While he knew at least a dozen ways to reset to that zen state, there were none as efficient or effective as being in the physical presence of his Babe. So he'd picked her locks the same way he had hundreds of times before, and crept into her bedroom.

He'd just settled into the chair in the corner of the room when she let out a snuffling snort as she awoke, tossed back the covers and stumbled blindly into the ensuite bathroom. Ranger had tried not to listen as the sounds of her tending to bladder-business echoed in the otherwise silent apartment. It wasn't that he thought the sounds were gross, or that they unveiled more about the woman he loved than he cared to know, but he knew Steph would be embarrassed to know that he could hear the whole production clears as day. And while he loved when her cheeks blushed that rosy colour, he preferred for it to be because of something he'd whispered in her ear than the knowledge that he'd heard her midnight waterfall routine.

On her way back to the bed, she'd veered close enough to the chair that he'd been able to reach out and drag her into his lap. It was a dirty move that had resulted in an unpleasant scream and a bit of thrashing but after a minute she recognised that it was just Ranger holding her captive in his arms and managed to calm down, relaxing into him even as he could still feel her heart beating double time.

There, in the dark of night, she'd derailed all of his relax and reset plans by having the courage to ask about their relationship status. They'd been spending more time than usual in each other's company, so it was a valid question for a woman who was under constant pressure from her family and society to settle down and commit to a man. Unfortunately, the timing was not in their favour. Ranger had been forced to play the 'someday' card yet again, promising her more than he should with his fate still unknown, but less than he wanted to. Something about this last time had felt different, though. Whereas she usually rolled her eyes and let his vague lack of commitment slide right off her back, that night she seemed to be taking his words to heart. It made him wish he could offer her what she wanted. What she deserved.

As his driver steered the car off the highway, he lifted the lid of the box and stared down at the contents, hoping he was doing the right thing and that he wasn't too late. From the conversation they'd had that night and his observations and intelligence from the weeks following until he was called up, he knew that Steph was done with Morelli. She'd seemed serious about it in a way she never had before. There was conviction that set his mind at ease that she'd finally kicked him to the curb for good.

They had a pattern, though, and anything could have happened in the time he'd been away.

With that thought clear in his mind, and the knowledge that he was just minutes away from the Rangeman building on Haywood, Ranger closed the box once more and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, dialling the control room.

"Rangeman, Trenton," Vince's voice drawled.

"Location report," he stated efficiently. "Stephanie Plum."

The change in Vince's demeanour was immediate. There was nothing that could straighten a spine quicker than unexpectedly hearing your boss's voice on the other end of the phone line. "Oh, uh, it's good to hear your voice, Sir," Vince stammered.

Ranger's instinct was to bar out a repeat demand for the report, hating small talk and even the small acknowledgement Vince had made that wasted time, but he thought better of it. He knew the toll his absence took on his men. Many of them had served in the military, and while they may or may not have undergone the same kinds of tasks that he had done, they understood the uncertainty he faced everytime, and he knew that niggling worry lingered in the far-back corners of their minds the entire time he was gone, the same way it had in his own whenever one of them were deployed.

"Bomber's in your apartment on seven," Vince explained when Ranger didn't engage in the small talk he'd attempted to initiate. "The previous shift left us with strict instructions to keep an eye out for her. Word is that her Dad was shot and her Mom's playing the blame game. She's pretty upset, so we wanna make sure she's okay, ya know?"

Ranger went from elated to concerned to down-right furious in the course of Vince's cliff notes summary of the current situation. His chest warmed at the knowledge that she was comfortable utilising his space when he wasn't there, only to turn to ice and plummet to the pit of his stomach when Vince mentioned having to keep and eye on her. His brain immediately cut together every horrible thing that could have happened and played it on several times over in the time it took for Vince to finish one sentence and start on the next. By the time Vince had finished talking, Ranger had had to slide his hand away from the box lest he crush it in his fist.

Helen Plum strikes a-fucking-gain.

"Status on Frank Plum?" Ranger requested through gritted teeth.

"Uhhh." The sound of a keyboard clacking let Ranger know that Vince was looking the information up on the computer. He told himself to be patient. He couldn't do anything for the next few minutes until he reached Rangeman anyway. "Bobby's notes say he was shot at close ranger. Bullet pierced the chest cavity. Still in surgery at the time the note was made.

"When?"

But Ranger never got his answer. A commotion in the background stole Vince's attention away. There were shouts and commands flying left and right. Ranger could only make out a word here and there.

"Bomber… apartment…"

"… the roof…"

"Call Tank!"

"… answering…"

"… jump?!"

The world around him tilted on it's axis and Ranger was suddenly grateful he wasn't in the driver's seat. His entire being was now focused on trying to decipher what was happening on the other end of the phone. He was mentally visualising the control room, trying to track the shouts locations around Vince, whom he knew had to be either on monitors or manning a desk nearby to have picked up his call. But it was all jumbled.

He needed answers.

"VINCE!" Ranger barked into the phone, startling his driver and causing the car to swerve briefly into the other lane. "REPORT!"

A clattering of devices followed before Vince's terse voice carried clearly down the line once more. "Sir, Bomber's left the apartment. She's on the roof. Appears to be in distress and climbing the barrier. Hector enroute. Tank notified."

The universe must have known Ranger couldn't handle that information without action, because at the very same moment his blood ran cold, the Rangeman building came into view as the car rounded the corner. By the time his driver had brought the car to a stop out front, Ranger was already unbuckled and spilling out of the back door, leaving all his belongings behind as he raced to his Babe's rescue.

The front door of the building opened for him like magic, allowing him to soar straight through the lobby, no key fobs needed. He made a beeline for the stairwell, and as he began climbing as fast as his adrenaline charged body could take him, he heard pounding footsteps and raised voices a few floors ahead of him.

It sounded like Tank, losing his shit at Zip, but for all Ranger's military training and his ability to zero in on conversations halfway across rooms in order to gather intel, he was having a hard time making out what the men were saying. He didn't have the mental capacity to allow the task to run in the background with his worry for Steph taking up all the ram in his brain. His entire being was focused on reaching her. Reaching his Babe. Holding her close to his heart like he should have been doing the entire time. Soothing all the hurt she had blistering inside her.

What the fuck had happened?

After what felt like a century, but couldn't have been more than two minutes, Ranger reached the top of the stairs and burst out onto the roof, a tortured, "BABE!" clawing up his throat as he was expecting to find his men trying to talk the love of his life down off the ledge. His heart was beating so hard it felt like it was tugging him forward with each harried thump, and he was helpless to stop his feet from stumbling the last few yards to where Hector sat on the concrete, with Steph caged in his lap.

The rest of the scene on the roof faded out of existence. Ranger was aware that Tank and Zip stood frozen nearby, and more men had spilled out of the door behind him, but none of that matter. All he could see was his Babe. The way her shoulders jerked and she shoved at Hector's chest. The steady stream of tears down her red, blotchy cheeks. The broken sob that split the otherwise silent night air.

Hector waited until Ranger was close enough to grab Steph if she tried to make a break for the ledge again before releasing his vice-like hold on her. Ranger scooped her up into his arms without a second thought, letting instinct drive his actions as he turned on his heels and carried her back toward the stairwell. All the while murmuring soothing words in Spanish against the mess of curls engulfing his lower face as she attempted to bury her head in his chest.

He didn't even attempt to get her to speak to him, or tell him what was wrong until they'd reached the living room of the seventh floor apartment and he'd settled into one of the armchairs with her across his lap. Vaguely aware that Tank and Hector had followed them in and were doing a cursory sweep of the other rooms to ensure Steph hadn't been fleeing from some unchecked danger, Ranger allowed himself to focus solely on the trembling body in his arms.

"What happened, Babe?" Ranger asked quietly, a worried frown creasing his brow as he lifted Steph's chin so he could see her face. "I've never seen you like this."

"My- my dad," she gasped, still struggling to get her breathing under control. "He - he…" A single new tear escaped the corner of her eye, but Ranger didn't let it get very far before swiping it away with is thumb. After a moment she managed to take a deep, shuddering breath and eliminate the glazed look from her eyes. "Dad was shot. Shot bad, Ranger. In the chest. And… and he…"

He wanted to tell her that Frank would be okay, that he was strong and resilient, and he wouldn't let something like a bullet stop him, but the heavy sense of dread that had settled over him stole the words away. Something told him that would be the worst thing to say right at that moment, and the pained whisper that was pulled from Steph's mouth next confirmed his suspicions.

"He didn't make it."

All of the wind left Ranger then as he tightened his arms around his Babe, trying his damnedest to absorb even a tiny sliver of the pure agony she was surely experiencing. Her father, the parent who had always believed in her and treated her with the kind of respect a human being deserved, had died.

"I'm so sorry, Babe," Ranger murmured. The words were wholly inadequate for the ache he felt in his chest for what she was going through, but he knew that being silent wouldn't serve the situation. Stephanie Plum needed to know that he was there for her and would be there for her for the rest of their lives. She was in a dark place right now, one that he couldn't possibly understand given that both his parents and even all his grandparents that he was close to were still alive. But he hoped he could shed some light on her soul and ease the pain she was wallowing in.

He'd seen plenty of men swallowed by the absolute monster that was grief. Some for a short time, other altered for the rest of their lives by it.

As he continued to rub circles on her back, he lifted his gaze to meet the eyes of Tank, Bobby and Lester, standing in a line near the living room door, each sporting their own expressions of grief either for Frank Plum himself, or for the loss their friend was experiencing. They seemed to understand not only how heavy this moment was, but what Ranger's look meant, as their backs straightened in unison and they sprang into action.

Bobby pulled out a phone, dialling as he paced down the hall toward the kitchen. Tank, too, pulled out his phone, though he didn't raise it to his ear, instead, his oversized thumbs began furiously tapping at the screen as he typed out a message while Lester ducked across the room to the hall on the other side that lead to the master bedroom. Hector stalked passed behind Tank and disappeared out of sight, seeming to surmise where he would be most useful.

Ranger adjusted his hold on Steph so that when he stood, he still had her securely cradled in his arms, and carried her back out of the apartment to the elevator. Lester met them there a second later holding one of Ranger's well-worn hoodies from his army days, a pair of Steph's shoes, and a warm, damp flannel. He stepped into the elevator with them but said nothing as they descended to the garage, allowing Ranger to continue to murmur soothing words to the woman huddled against his chest.

Unsure of whether Steph's current lack of tears was a good thing, or a bad thing, Ranger kept up a steady stream of assurance that everything would be okay, that he would be there for her every step of the way from here on out. He didn't know if she was taking any of his words in, but he knew from past experience that even just the sound of his voice in a high stress situation had the ability to keep her calm, so he continued talking.

It used to be that he would do anything to avoid speaking. The more you said, the more vulnerabilities your exposed, the more secrets you leaked. Remaining tight-lipped had been his MO. It served him well in the military, and doubly so when it came to the kind of traumatic experiences he'd endured on America's behalf. But when it came to his Babe, he'd found over time that not only was it almost impossible for him to remain quiet, sticking to his customary one word answers, but he didn't want to. The more time he spent with her, the more he learned about her, the more he truly admired the person she was. It made him want to share his own story with her in return. He'd found himself telling her things he'd never told anyone else.

He knew he didn't express himself nearly as much as Steph would have liked, but it was so much more than he was used to that it felt like he'd reefed his dirty underwear off his own body and hoisted them up a flag pole for all to gawk at. It was uncomfortable because it was unfamiliar. But right at that moment, the words spilling from his mouth felt as natural as if they'd been engraved on his heart from the moment he was born, just waiting for the right time to leap to his tongue and into the air.

When the elevator doors opened to the garage a minute later, he found an SUV idling directly in front of him, back door open and waiting and Hector at the wheel. He settled Steph into the middle of the back seat and climbed in after her, never once losing physical contact as Lester situated himself in the front passenger seat. The car was in motion the instant Ranger had Steph's seatbelt buckled, and it did not escape his notice that two other SUV pulled out of the garage in front and behind their own. A convoy of protection.

Once they were on the road, Ranger accepted the warm flannel from Lester and used it to gently clean Steph's face. The touch of the cloth snapped her out of the stupor she'd fallen into and she blinked around at her surroundings.

"Ranger?" she muttered in confusion. "When did you- where are we going?"

"To the hospital," he explained. "To say goodbye to your Dad."

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head hard, pressing her back into the cushion of the seat like she could force it to swallow her whole. "We can't," she told him. "Mom said- and, and Dad's- It was my fault! I shouldn't- I can't."

"Babe," Ranger said, holding her face between both his hands. "Unless you personally pulled the trigger, you are not to blame for your Dad getting shot. Whatever your mother said to carve open your heart the way she did, it's not true, and more than likely, it's the complete opposite of how your Dad would feel about the situation."

She let his words settle over her for a moment, but in the end there was only so much resistance she could put up against the constant berating words cycling through her head in her mother's voice. "She forbid me from going to the hospital," Steph murmured, holding Ranger's gaze with worried eyes as her lip trembled, threatening to give way to another bout of tears.

Unbidden, a soft laugh escaped Ranger's throat as he smoothed her hair back from her face. "How old are you, Babe?" he asked, giving her a genuine, if slightly mischievous smile. "Don't you think it's time your mother understood that the umbilical cord withered away years ago. You're an adult and she can't control you, no matter how hard she tries to browbeat you into submission. She can't ban you from the hospital; she doesn't have that authority."

"I know," she sighed, leaning into his touch as he cupped her face again. "I just- We got in another argument at lunch and I was still raw from some of the things she said, and then she was calling to tell me that Dad was shot and telling me to stay away because it was my fault and I was… I was scared… He's my Daddy, and I…"

Her voice, which had gained some strength over the course of the conversation, grew thin once more, trailing off as tears pooled on her lower lashes.

"Shh, Babe," Ranger said softly, dragging her into another hug before she dissolved again. "I'm sorry you had to go through all this alone."

Taking a deep breath, Steph lifted her head from his shoulder. Her eyes were still watery as her gaze drifted to the front of the car, and she sniffed in a way that, on any other woman, would have been an immediate turn off. "I wasn't alone," she told Ranger firmly. "I had the guys."

For that, Ranger was grateful. God only knows what would have happened to his heart if something had happened to Steph on that before he'd managed to get home. He met Hector's eyes in the rear view mirror, knowing that it was his quick actions that had kept her safe. The man gave a tiny nod before refocussing on the road, and Ranger returned his attention to his Babe just as whispered aside slipped past her lips.

"They're not you, though."

He wasn't entirely sure she meant to release the words from the confines of her private thoughts.

"I'm here now," Ranger assured her firmly. "I'm not leaving. We'll get through this together."

"What if Mom's still there?" Steph asked meekly.

Before Ranger could explain that he would personally escort Helen Plum out of a second story window a la Tank's performance at that first "redecorating" job he'd invited Steph to join, Hector broke his silence to inform them both in heavily accented English that Hank and Ghost had it under control. Ranger wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that, but it didn't really matter so long as they could avoid a fiery confrontation in the wake of the tragedy the Plums were all still reeling from. He trusted his men to do what was necessary with minimal fuss and disruption. Hank and Ghost would ensure that Helen was out of the way, and clear any other obstacles that may arise to prevent Steph from saying her final farewell to her beloved father.

Seeing that the news of the men's potential show of force to remove her mother from her dead husband's side wasn't doing what he hoped it would to reassure her, Ranger wracked his brain for something to help her gather her strength and cast off her anxieties. "What was it your Dad says when things are bad with your Mom?" he asked, feigning a memory strain even though every detail of her life that Steph had ever shared with him was etched into his brain in fluorescent permanent marker. "Throw your head back and spit in the wind?"

A snort of laughter burst from Steph so suddenly that Ranger had to work quickly to tamp down his knee jerk reactions. His body was still on high alert having not had the time to relax and reset after his mission, and the harsh sound was so unexpected that for a split second he'd thought something was very wrong.

"Not tonight, Primo," Lester said from the front seat, shaking his head adamantly even as he tried to suppress a smile. "Too windy."