Sydney fled down the dark alley, heart pounding. She finally came to a stop and leaned against a wall, gasping for air. It seemed like all she'd been doing lately was running. She heard footsteps behind her and moved to flee, but was stopped dead in her tracks by the cold voice that seeped out of the darkness.
"What's the matter, are you in trouble, little lady?"
"Gage?"
He laughed bitterly. "Yeah, it's me, the one you deserted, the one you turned your back on."
Sydney winced, but otherwise didn't allow her true feelings to show.
"How could you do that? To me? To your supposed friends?" The barrel of a gun glinted in the dim light cast by a flickering street lamp.
"Gage, put the gun down," Sydney said, tucking her own weapon into the waistband of her pants.
With a roar of rage, he leapt forward, tackling her. She fell hard, and heard something in her left arm crack. Pain radiated from her forearm, and she cried out in pain, but he ignored her. Grabbing her roughly, he slammed her into a nearby wall, making her yelp again as her arm was crushed between her petite body and the solid brick ball and the side of her face slid down a few inches against the rough surface, the brick tearing at her delicate skin. She bit her lip hard to hold back from screaming and whirled in his grasp, catching him off-guard and escaping. She pulled her gun out as she heard more footsteps and voices from a few hundred feet away.
Behind her, Gage growled, "Put the weapon down, Cooke."
She turned quickly, gun still drawn, steadied with her good arm, and saw his hatred for her literally emanating from him in waves. His eyes were hard, unforgiving, and as he caught sight of the weapon that was now unintentionally aimed at him, he fired.
And a silver bullet ripped through the chest of the woman across from him, just under the heart that beat only with love for him.
Walker rushed up to Gage a moment later and caught sight of the raven-haired woman lying on her side on the ground, facing away from them. "Gage?"
"She had her gun aimed at me. I had no choice."
Grimly, Walker moved to Sydney's side, pulling out his cell phone and dialing 911.
"This is Ranger Cordell Walker. I'm on the corner of Vine and Maple, in an alley set back about twenty-five feet from the street. I need immediate medical assistance. Repeat. I need immediate medical assistance. We have a…suspect…down."
"Help is on the way, Ranger Walker."
"Thanks."
He hung up and waited, hearing the telltale sirens of emergency vehicles growing closer and closer.
********
Gage, Walker, Alex, Trivette, Erika, and CD were sitting silently in the waiting room of St. Mathew's, hoping for—and dreading—news of their downed ex-friend. Alex held a sleeping Angela in her arms. None could completely believe any of this, about Sydney, or the fact that Gage had shot her. Gage was sitting by himself in the corner of the room, staring straight ahead, his face expressionless. He was taking all of this harder than anyone else, blaming himself for not seeing what Sydney truly was sooner. Their brooding silence was broken when a man dressed in a suit burst into the room.
"Where's Ranger Sydney Cooke?" he asked.
"Surgery," came Gage's gruff reply.
"What?!"
"She was shot. I shot her 'cause she was aiming her gun at me."
"Oh, no. Oh, no. I knew something like this was going to happen. Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it!! She wasn't supposed to get shot—"
"Yeah, well, she deserved it—"
"No! No, she didn't! She was just doing her job!"
"By aiming a loaded weapon at me?!"
"The weapon wasn't dangerous, it was loaded with blanks--"
"What?!" This time, it was Walker who spoke.
"Listen, I'm with the FBI, and she was doing an undercover case for us. She agreed to do it, but she couldn't tell you about any of it."
"Why the hell was she working for you?!" Walker growled.
"Because we were trying to catch Mick Jamison."
"Oh, God!" Gage sank to the floor, his legs no longer supporting his weight. The cold hatred he'd been feeling towards Sydney moments ago melted into a coldness that seeped into his body, down to his very bones.
He'd shot Sydney, the woman he loved, as she innocently held an unloaded gun that happened to be pointed at him.
"Oh, God!"
Gage couldn't feel the hands and arms that touched and embraced him in an effort to comfort him. He felt only the cold, and the pain of the knowledge of what he'd done.
********
He stood in the doorway, staring at her tiny, pale form stretched out across the hospital bed, tubes leading in and out of her body, an IV in her right hand. A cast was wrapped carefully around her left arm, which they had discovered was broken from the force of the fall she'd taken when he'd first knocked her down. A scrape ran from her right eyebrow across her cheek and down to her chin. All things that he'd done to her. But, worst of all, was the stark white bandage that was wrapped tightly around her chest, with tubes draining unwanted fluids from her chest cavity as a second IV pumped new blood into her. A ventilator protruded from her mouth, the tube helping her to breath. All results of her near-fatal gunshot wound, courtesy of him. The anesthesiologist had told him, and him only, that she had regained consciousness shortly before entering surgery, and her last words before she'd gone under from the meds they'd given her were, "Tell…Gage…sorry." He choked back tears. Why the hell was she apologizing?! He was the one who'd almost killed her!! He left soon after, unable to look at his own handiwork.
********
A month later found Gage sitting beside the bed of a comatose Sydney, watching her carefully. For the past four weeks, he and the rest of the gang had been keeping vigil over their fallen comrade and friend, hoping beyond hope that she would awaken. She hadn't. Her physical therapist walked in then, and began Syd's daily exercises. They kept her body strong as she slept on, unaware of the heartbroken man who sat beside her day and night. He left soon, and several hours passed, evening fading to early morning.
"I'm sorry, Syd. I'm sorry. I should've trusted you. I should've known you wouldn't really do something like that. I'm sorry I hurt you, Shorty. You arm is healing okay, and they said your . . . bullet wound is healing up all right, too. So why won't you wake up? What's wrong? Is it me?" Gage fell to silence. His head dropped, his eyes focusing on hid hands that lay trembling in his lap. He heard the sheets rustle, and looked up in shock to see a pair of brown eyes staring back at him.
"Syd? Sydney? Y-you're awake!" Gage bolted from the room, flagging his partner's doctor down and updating him. He ran back in a moment later to sit at her side, pulling out his cell phone and dialing the Walker's home phone number as the doctor followed. They removed the ventilator as Gage spoke.
"Yeah?" came the groggy answer.
"Walker, it's me, Gage--"
"Gage, it's three in the morning, damn it. Can't it wait?"
"No! Syd's awake! She just…woke up a couple of minutes ago."
"What?!"
Gage could hear Alex's sleepy voice in the background now.
"Shhh, you'll wake the baby, darling. What is it?"
"Syd's awake."
This time he heard a muffled gasp and a thump as Alex registered this and threw her arms around her husband in her happiness.
"Tell her we said hello, Gage. Tell her how much we all love her."
"Will do, Alex. Talk to you later. Bye."
He hung up, then dialed Trivette's number.
"Hmm?" Erika answered.
"Hey, can I talk to Trivette, please?"
"Yeah, sure. Jimmy, it's for you. It's Gage."
"Gage, come on, man, it's three in the morning—" Trivette grumbled.
"I know, but Sydney just woke up—"
"Oh, my Lord."
"What is it, baby?" Erika asked in the background.
"Sydney's finally back with the living."
"Oh, God, that's wonderful! Tell her we love her, Gage!"
"I will. Bye."
He snapped his phone shut and dropped it back into his pocket, turning his attention back to his little miracle.
"Hey, Syd. Everybody's glad you're okay, and they all want you to know how much they love you. Me, too."
She stared at him, silent.
"Syd? Shorty, you're gonna be all right."
She turned her head away from him suddenly, her hair whispering against the pillow.
"Sydney?"
She still didn't say a word.
"Are-are you mad at me? For what I did?"
Her head twisted further to the side as she stared out the window beside her bed. Moonlight shone down on her face, casting it in an ethereal glow. She looked like an angel.
"Look, I'm sorry about what I did. I had no right to hurt you. I should've trusted you, I just . . . it was so unexpected, you know? I mean, you just left. No goodbye, no explanation, nothing. And then you turn up as the primary suspect in a criminal investigation. I just didn't know what to think. I'm sorry. And . . . and I love you. I love you, Sydney Cooke."
She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them a moment later, they glistened with unshed tears, but she still said nothing.
And so he sat as silent company.
********
All of their friends came to see her the next morning, but she didn't talk to any of them, though she watched them all unblinkingly. A week went by, and she still hadn't uttered a single sound. But she watched everything around her with a keen alertness. The doctors said there was no reason why she shouldn't be talking. The only possible explanation was that this had affected her psychologically in some way. Gage's concern for her mental state grew with each day that passed without a word from the raven-haired woman. He took her home, caring for her and talking to her as if nothing were wrong, but she seemed to withdraw even further into herself. He began to stay away from her, asking their friends to watch over his beloved as his own life deteriorated. He went to work, came home, and slept, went to work, came home, and slept. It was the same thing, day after day. He barely ate, fell behind on his paperwork, and his friends saw less and less of him as he, too, drew himself inward, his heart constricting with the pain of knowing what he'd done to the one thing that meant the world to him. The woman he loved and held so dear was silent because of the hell he'd put her through. As he sank deeper into a dark void of grief and loss and anger and sadness, his friends began to worry for him, too.
********
"I-I'm sorry."
"What?" Alex and Erika looked up from playing with Angela in shock.
"I'm sorry."
Hurriedly putting Angela in her carrier, the two rushed to her side.
"Syd?" Alex said softly.
"I hurt you. All of you. And…I hurt him."
"Who, honey?"
"Gage. I hurt Gage."
"Oh, honey, you didn't do anything wrong. None of this is your fault. You can't blame yourself. Is that why you've been this way for so long?"
She nodded mutely.
"It is my fault—"
"No, Sydney Cooke it is not your fault!" Alex interrupted sharply.
Erika closed her cell phone and looked up at Alex.
"I called Jimmy and Walker. They'll be here soon with Gage."
Alex nodded.
"Sydney, you were under orders—"
"He hates me!" she blurted out suddenly. "Gage hates me!" She drew her knees up to her chest, her arms locking around them in an effort to make herself smaller, less noticeable.
"No, honey, he doesn't—"
"Alex, he shot me." Her eyes met Alex's, and the blonde woman saw all of the pain and anguish she held there, how torn she felt, how shaken she was, and how shattered her spirit had become.
"Oh, sweetie. He never would have done that if…he was angry, he didn't know what he was doing, he loves you with all his heart, and he would never intentionally hurt you…" Alex trailed off, not knowing how to convince this stricken woman that everything would work out eventually. The door opened then, and Walker, Trivette, and CD entered, dragging Gage with them. The blonde ranger looked lifeless. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, he'd lost weight, his hair was uncombed, and his clothes were rumpled. His eyes met with Sydney's and they both stared.
"Hi," Sydney said finally. At that single word, light began to shine in his eyes again, and he looked alive for the first time in weeks. He ran to her, gathering her into his arms in a great bear hug and lifting her. She returned the embrace, and they stood there for a full minute, just hugging. The lovely moment was interrupted, however, when Angela let out an indignant squeal at the lack of attention being given to her. Laughing, Alex scooped her daughter up. Sydney and Gage sat down on the couch together, hands clasped tightly. She let go a moment later and held out her hands hesitantly.
"May I?"
Alex beamed and handed over her bubbly baby girl. The infant stared up in wonder at her aunt and uncle, then blew a raspberry at them, giggling. Sydney looked over at Gage slyly.
"You know, I've always wanted one of these. Know where I could find someone who's interested?"
Gage leaned over and captured her mouth with his, his left hand sliding up her back to her head, pulling her closer to him. Their friends looked away, allowing them a moment of semi-privacy. Of course, one member of the audience objected to this sight and let out another squeal. The two broke apart, chuckling.
Gage rested his forehead on hers as he said, "Does that answer your question?"
Giving him a playful shove for being smart, she replied, "Which one? The one about finding someone interested or the one about how much babies hate to have attention taken away from them?"
Everyone started chuckling then, and he said, "The first one. We already know the answer to the second."
More chuckles filled the room. "Then, yes." She touched her lips lightly to his for a moment, then pulled away. "We'll talk about this later, okay?"
"Mm-hmm."
********
ONE YEAR LATER
The sound of something heavy crashing to the ground echoed throughout the house.
"Francis Gage!"
"Yes?"
"What was that?!"
"What was what?"
"Francis!!"
"All right, all right! Geez, keep your hair on. It was the box with the changing table in it."
"You better not have scratched that! We had to wait two months for that delivery!"
"I'm sure it's fine, honey—"
"Check it."
"Syd, I'm sure it's—"
"I said check it!!"
"Checking."
"Well?"
"Like I told you, it's fine."
"Good."
Sydney Cooke-Gage appeared at the top of the stairs, her crossed arms resting on her round belly.
"Sorry I got mad at you. It's just…I want everything to be perfect."
Leaving the box he'd been carrying, Gage went to his wife, taking her into his arms. He pulled back a moment later, holding her at arm's length as he said, "Everything is perfect."
"I know." She gazed into his eyes. "Forgive me?" she asked meekly.
"Of course."
"Thank you. Now get moving and put that table together…please."
********
"Syd?" Gage called.
"Yeah?" came the reply from their bedroom.
"I'm done. Wanna see?"
"Sure!"
He turned as she came through the doorway of the nursery.
"Oh, Gage, it's beautiful. It's perfect. Oh!!"
Gage turned to look at her. She was hunched over slightly, her hands on her belly. "What's wrong?"
"Uh, well, I think your son or daughter is very eager to see the nursery for themselves."
********
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