***WARNING: This chapter gets a little violent, but it's nothing that horrible. If PG or PG-13 violence easily offends you, do not read. I don't want to give it away before you read, but this chapter is along the lines of the season 3 episode "Johnny Get Your Gun". Enjoy and please review!!!
Wilson walks into the garage, and over to the stairs that lead to the garage apartment. He walks up them, and knocks on the doors blocking his path.
"Lucy?" Kevin asks from the other end.
"No, its Wilson. Could I come in?"
Kevin grows worried, but then becomes angry for no apparent reason. He hates Wilson, deeper than he has ever despised anyone in his life, and that even scares himself. "I guess so."
Kevin sits down in his chair, and crosses his arms over his chest. Wilson lifts the boards that cover the entrance to the one room apartment, and steps inside. Wilson stares at Kevin scornfully, and Kevin has the audacity not to get up. He remains seated with a "holier than thou" expression on his face.
"I think we should talk."
"What about?" Kevin says, trying to sound as pleasant as possible.
"About what you said before."
"You know, I said so many things today. You'll have to be more specific than that."
"Don't get smart with me." Wilson says, holding his own.
"Is that why you beat your son? Because he got 'smart' with you?"
"You and I both know that all of that never happened. Why did you make that up?"
Kevin stands, walking closer to Wilson. "I don't like you."
"Well, I don't like you much either, so I guess we're even. But what did I ever do to you?"
"You exist." Kevin gets an evil smirk on his face, and takes a few steps backwards to his desk. He reaches for his the holster on his police belt, never taking his eyes off of Wilson. He reaches inside the leather flap, brushing his hand over the top of the revolver concealed inside. "But I guess I have the power to change all of that, now don't I?"
"What do you mean by that?" Wilson says, determined not to loose his edge.
Kevin reveals his gun slowly, and aims at Wilson.
"Hey…now, can't we work this out?" He asks, trying with everything he has to remain calm.
"I don't think so," Kevin mutters. Wilson can barely hear him over the pounding of his heart.
Just before Kevin is about to pull the trigger, Mary walks up the stairs. She sees Wilson, and smiles on instinct. She is about to speak, when she turns toward Kevin. She sees his gun poised in the direction of both her and Wilson, and Mary is paralyzed with fear. Her mind is even blank- no thoughts buzzing in and out like usual.
"Good," Kevin says, "I've always enjoyed an audience."
"Kevin…" Mary squeezes out, finding her voice for somewhere within her. "What are you doing?" her voice cracks as she says those words, being between breaking into tears and screaming her head off.
"Well, Mary, we were in the middle of something, something I plan on finishing. Now, if you don't mind…" Kevin voice trails off, as he steadies his aim. His mind flashes back to his police academy training, the part where they talked about where to shoot the felon. As a police officer, you are never supposed to intentionally shoot anyone with intent to kill him or her, only try to stop them or slow them down. He recalls that you are supposed to shoot a moving enemy in the legs, to prevent them from running away, and you shoot a non-mobile criminal in the arm.
Kevin moves the gun from the area of Wilson's stomach to Wilson right arm. He pulls the trigger, sending a loud boom throughout the entire garage a and bullet flying through the air. The shell pierces Wilson's arm, inexplicably going right through his sturdy bicep. The bullet flies out of his arm, leaving a bloody trail in its wake. It continues to whiz through the air towards Mary, grazing the side other arm resulting in a very deep scratch, before getting lodged in the wall behind her.
Wilson drops to his knees, holding his arm. Mary rushes over to his side, sitting on the floor beside him. She was still in a state of intense shock, but holds Wilson to her. Kevin sits back down his chair, wondering what he had just done.
I just shot someone. Me, Kevin Kinkirk. And this man was no criminal, just an average hard-working civilian. I just shot the very type of person I work hard everyday trying to protect.
Outside, Robbie is just coming home late from a date. He hears the loud boom come form the garage and is curious to find its origin, as any red-blooded Camden would be. He peeks into the garage, and sees that no one is there. When he is just about to leave, he here voices coming from the apartment. He walks up the stairs, and isn't really sure what he sees before them.
"Robbie," Mary says to him as soon as she lays her eyes on him, sounding more desperate then ever. "Go get help." Robbie runs inside of the house, and upstairs to the Reverend and Mrs. Camden's bedroom.
***
An hour and a half later, Mary is sitting in the waiting room of the hospital with Lucy and Ruthie on either side of her. Mary knew no one else wanted to come with her, even though they had all come up with very good excuses. Robbie had to work tomorrow. Her mother had to watch Sam and David, and plus, it was too late for them to be out. It was nearly two in the morning now. Simon…Mary couldn't even remember what he had said, but she hadn't really cared if he came or not. Her father, and this was the best one, was still recovering from his surgery, and shouldn't be out either. What, was that 3 months ago? He couldn't sit in the emergency room for a couple of hours? Even Lucy didn't really want to be here, but she would rather be here not talking to anyone than at home with her parents. The only one who wanted to come was Ruthie. Her mother wasn't going to let her, because she had her last full day of school tomorrow before the break, but she pleaded with Annie, who finally caved in due to exhaustion.
Lucy and Ruthie are both propped up against Mary, asleep. She is surprised they were able to sleep on her, because she had been shaking uncontrollably since it happened. Mary sits there staring blankly in front of her. At the moment, her anger towards her family masks the pain inside of her. She hadn't heard anything about Wilson, no one had, and his parents a few rows of chairs behind her were noticeably worried.
Mary decides that she can't just sit here anymore. She has to get up and move around, stretch her muscles, anything. She couldn't figure out how she felt, but she knew she definitely couldn't figure anything out just sitting there. She is able to maneuver Lucy off of her without waking her up, but when she moves Ruthie, her eyes spring open, startling Mary.
"Is everything ok?"
"Shh!" Mary whispers, pointing towards Lucy.
"Sorry." Ruthie whispers back.
"I'm going to go take a walk."
"Can I come?"
"No, stay here with Lucy."
"I don't want to stay here with Lucy. Can't I come? We can talk."
Mary smiles at her sister. She turns towards Lucy and nudges her until she awakens. She tells her that she and Ruthie will be right back, and Mary and Ruthie walk out of the doors of the waiting room.
"So, where to?" Ruthie asks as the doors swing shut behind them.
"I don't know. How about the cafeteria?"
"Are you hungry?"
"No, actually I fell like I'm going to be sick, but there's no where else to go."
"Oh, ok."
They stroll down the halls, following the signs to the eatery. Once they arrive, they sit at a table together. Mary uses all of her strength she has left to be pleasant toward her sister.
"So, are you going to have a battle scar?"
"What?"
"How's your arm?"
"It hurts a little, but not as bad as my heart."
"Is Wilson going to be OK?" Ruthie asks seriously.
Mary looks back at her sister, whom she still remembers as a little girl eating Poptarts on her bed. "I'm sure he'll be fine."
Ruthie glares back at her. "I'm almost 13. Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying to you. I- I don't know if he's going to be all right or not. He bled so much. The paramedic said that wasn't good." Mary's eyes begin to fill up with tears.
"Well, I have a better question then." Ruthie says.
"Yes?"
"Are you going to be OK?"
"I told you, my arm's fine."
"I'm not talking about your arm. I'm talking about you."
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I don't know about Lucy though, she's really upset."
"This is Lucy we're talking about here, she gets really upset over Kevin looking at Roxanne."
The two of them quickly get quiet. "Sorry." Ruthie says.
Mary isn't listening. Roxanne…
"Uh, Ruthie, I'm going to go make a phone call. Let me take you back to Lucy."
"Who are you going to call? Wilson's here."
"I know," Mary says, "I just have something to take care of, that's all."
The two of them walk back to the waiting room, to find Lucy crying her eyes out.
"Why don't you get this one." Mary whispers to Ruthie, who nods proudly.
Mary walks over to the payphone, and calls the police station. She figured Roxanne just might be there, considering everything that has happened tonight.
"Hello?"
"Hi, can I please speak to Officer, uh, Roxanne, I don't know her last name."
"I'm sorry, she's off duty now, but she might be coming in soon. Would you like me to leave a message?"
"No, no, that's ok."
"This doesn't happen to be Mary Camden by any chance, does it?"
"Detective Michaels?"
"Yup. How are you holding up?"
"Honestly I don't know."
"How's Wilson?"
"They haven't said anything yet, which isn't good either. When my dad was shot, he was home an hour and a half later."
"Well, I'll say a prayer."
Mary almost burst out laughing at his comment. It shouldn't seem funny, especially to someone like her, but it was just one of those days. "Oh, well thank you."
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
Mary thinks for a second. "Well, maybe you can."