California Highway Patrol Officer Jon Baker sat on his motorcycle, parked on the side of the road beside the sidewalk leading to the park. Waiting. It seemed he was always waiting for something. He sighed looking at his watch again, still no Ponch.
"I thought you said you'd be early today," Jon spoke quietly to himself, though it was directed at his partner, Officer Frank Poncherello. He looked around, even got off his bike and walked up the sidewalk a bit to see if he could see him coming.
Nowhere in sight.
He shook his head. "Of course you'd be late." He walked back to his bike, sitting down and glancing up at the sky, then back down to his watch. "I'll give you a few more minutes. Then I need to get to briefing before Getraer loses it," Jon muttered, drumming his fingers against his leg now.
In the distance he saw a motorcycle coming up the road. "Oh finally!" He smiled, starting his bike to meet up with him. His smile faded quickly when he noticed the officer wasn't his partner, but officer Artie Grossman. "You're going to be late for briefing," Jon commented, surprised to find Grossie out here instead of at the station already.
Grossie nodded. "Sarge already knows."
Jon sighed, this better be good. "What's going on?"
"Sarge sent me out to find you-"
"You couldn't just get me on the radio?" Jon raised an eyebrow.
Grossie shook his head.
Okay, this is weird. Jon thought as he followed Grossie for the station. He glanced back, noting Ponch still hadn't shown up. I hope he's okay...Jon thought, his focus still back on that spot, and Ponch. He stopped at the stop sign, knowing this route by heart, he didn't have to look. What he didn't memorize was the red mustang coming around the corner and blowing through the stop sign.
"JON!" Grossie cried, pulling off to the side to call for an ambulance.
The red mustang tried to go past, without stopping to check on the officer they had hit. But Grossie sighed in relief as he saw them come back. As mad as he was, at least they wouldn't be dealing with a search for the hit and run driver.
As Grossie pulled off to the side, another officer was pulling up.
Jon tried to get up, the pain shooting through his body kept him from being successful. It all happened so fast. He glanced around, briefly looking for Grossie. "G-Grossie?"
"Jon!?" Not Grossie's voice. Jon thought, as he tried to o figure out why the new voice seemed so familiar.
"Man, I'm late and look what happens!" The frazzled Puerto Rican cop muttered as he rushed over to his best friend.
Ponch. Jon smiled slightly, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.
"Baker, hey." Ponch dropped down next to his partner. "Where are you hurting?"
Jon didn't need to look he could already picture the concerned face of his partner. "Ponch," he said quietly instead of answering the question. He felt around trying to find where he was. The pain becoming worse by the second, shooting up his back. He didn't dare move. But he wanted to be sure he wasn't alone. It wasn't enough just to hear someone's voice.
In the distance he could hear Grossie trying to talk to the driver of the mustang. The conversation sounded heated. He glanced over to see Ponch.
Jon forced a small smile. "You were late...again," he got out barely above a whisper, as he continued to move his hand in search of something to hold onto. Something to bring comfort. I'm scared...I can't feel my legs. My back is killing me...he thought, but he couldn't worry his partner.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry," Ponch replied, noticing Jon's hand reaching out. He took it quickly, lightly squeezing it. "Never mind that," he added. "You're gonna be okay, Jon" he lightly squeezed his hand again.
He could see the fear in Jon's eyes. The fear Jon would never admit to. He wished he had something to offer, a reassurance that he would be fine. But how could he know that? He didn't even know what was hurting.
More officers pulled up on scene, traffic was light but Jeb Turner stood in the road ready to direct it if he had to.
Baricza stopped to help Grossie with the man from the mustang.
They'd been getting to briefing when Grossie made the call about the accident. Getraer sent Bear and Jeb out, and already knew he'd make it a short briefing so he could get to Jon too.
Jon tried to sit up. Though in the back of his mind he argued that decision as he already knew he had told himself he wouldn't do that. His attempt didn't last long, when he felt Ponch holding him down.
"Hey man, you're gonna hurt yourself. Lie still, alright?" Ponch did his best to keep his voice steady, though on the inside he was freaking out. Jon, you have to be okay, alright!? His mind screamed.
Wincing in pain, Jon laid his head back down. Ponch hadn't offered any explanation for why he was late or cracked any jokes about it, which Jon felt was odd. He silently hoped for it. I could use a good laugh about now.
In fact his entire morning had been different. Why was Grossie coming to take him to the station when Getraer could have called? Why was Ponch so late when he said he'd be early? Why was there a car on the road no one used? So many pieces to the puzzle, but nothing seemed to be coming together.
"Where does it hurt?" Ponch asked again, breaking into Jon's thoughts. There wasn't a whole lot he could do, but if he knew more he'd be able to help the paramedics out when they came.
Jon didn't respond, his eyes closing.
"Hey, hey Baker," Ponch tried to get his attention to keep him talking. I'm sorry...I"m so sorry. If I was on time we would have been gone before that car went by. Ponch thought, as he continued talking to Jon. "Talk to me, where does it hurt?"
Jon shook his head. "What happened?"
"You were hit by a car, don't you remember?"
Jon didn't respond. Rest...he shook his head slightly. Hearing his partner starting to panic, but he had no words to say. All he could think of was to rest. Calm his own nerves.
"Jon? Jon?" Ponch looked around for the ambulance. "Where's the ambulance!?" He felt hot tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "This is all my fault. I'm sorry I was late..." he looked back at Jon, then to Grossie again. "Grossie!? Where's the ambulance!? They should have been here by now!"
Grossie rushed over, to take a peek at Jon and his condition. "Ambulance is on the way." He glanced at Jon. "How bad is it?"
"He was conscious when I got here," Ponch replied, sitting beside his partner. This is all my fault...he shook his head, he lightly squeezed Jon's hand again hoping it would get his eyes to open, but no such luck.
Grossie could sense Ponch already beating himself up before he knew the full story. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "Ponch, relax. Jon'll be okay," he said trying to be optimistic.
Ponch gave him a look, but didn't say anything.
oOoOo
Jon sighed flipping through the channels again. "There's a reason I never wanted a TV," he mumbled. "There's never anything on.
It is the most indigenous population within these shores...
He changed the channel again.
As he looked out the window, he saw a clown walk by.
Jon laughed and shook his head, changing the channel again.
"Love is not like pizza, darling!"
"Oh really? That's not what the book says..."
Jon rolled his eyes, shutting the tv off. He glanced around the nearly empty hospital room. It had been a full day since he'd been placed in here. He would have gotten up to leave or at least attempt it had he not been paralyzed from the waist down.
The doctors said it was only temporary, though Jon feared the worst.
Beside his bed sat a chair, in the chair his half asleep best friend and partner.
"I still want to know why you were late..I could have just met you at the station," Jon said, trying to make conversation.
"Hmm?" Ponch replied, opening his eyes to look over at the blonde officer. "You say something?"
Jon shook his head. "Never mind." maybe I'll never know what was going on that day. He sighed at the thought. If only he had known everything would happen this way, he could have called in sick.
A/N: This is a gift for la-hija-de-Dios! I hope you enjoy this little fic. And I'll leave it to your imagination why everything happened how it did. :-) I hope you have a fantastic day!