Author's note
I recently re-watched this series from start to finish on the Roku channel. I hated how it ended back in the day and hate it more now. I considered disregarding those final two episodes and writing as though they never happened but I decided instead to continue from that point and rework the ending. I have made a few detailed changes that I hope aren't too jarring. Our story begins where the final episode ends.
I don't know how the police handle things in real life, some things I was able to look up but most of it is just how I've seen things handled on television and in the movies so please be kind.
As usual, I do not own the characters, but as they are riling up the plot bunnies and pestering me, I'm going to borrow them for a while. Purely for fun and entertainment of course. I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter one
January 17th
The blood had quickly saturated the bandages on Tom Ryan's arm and began to pool on the floor. It had started bleeding again shortly after he'd been put in the holding cell. But he didn't complain. He didn't say a word. He just stared at the floor in front of him, elbows on his knees.
However, John Logan, a 19-year-old caucasian male awaiting arraignment on a charge of possession with intent to sell, was not nearly as nonplussed by the pooling blood.
"Hey!" He yelled. "Hey, you better get in here. This guy is bleeding out. It's all over the floor. You can't have me in here with this blood. Have you never heard of AIDS?"
The custody sergeant walked down the hall, keys jingling at his side. "Keep your shirt on. You're not going to get aids from blood you're not touching. Just keep away from it and him." He said. He didn't like having a cop in his holding cells. There was always trouble. It was why he put the man in a cell with a kid arrested for possession of marijuana instead of someone arrested for a violent crime.
He doubted there was much blood. Ryan had been shot in the arm. Through and through. It had been bandaged. He wasn't even the one complaining and no one was going to just sit there and let themselves bleed out. Still, he had to go check it out. Because if anything did happen and he had just blown it off he'd be the one on suspension with an investigation pending.
He looked into the cell and swore. The first thing he did was get the kid out of that cell and into the next one over. Then he went to examine Tom Ryan. He used his radio to call for an ambulance. The man was going into shock. He eased him into a supine position and shoved the small pillow and a bundled-up blanket under his feet. He wasn't bleeding out exactly but he was bleeding more than was healthy.
Captain Harry Lipschitz received word that the ambulance had been called and he was waiting at the hospital when it arrived. He knew he'd be in and out of interviews with IAB over the entire debacle but for now, he was going to be there and do as much as he could for his young friend. Unfortunately, all he could do now was make a phone call to Boston.
"Liam? This is Harry." He said.
There was a tense almost electric silence. "How bad is it?"
"It was a shot to the arm, it didn't look bad in the beginning, but they're bringing him into the ER in an ambulance. I don't have details yet, I just got the call that they were bringing him in. I thought you should know."
"How is Virginia taking it? Is she there?" Liam asked.
"That's where things get complicated," Harry said.
Another silence. " Should I get on a plane?" He asked. "What aren't you telling me, Harry."
"Regardless of how badly he is or isn't hurt, you should get on a plane. Tom is in serious trouble. It could be cleared up in a few days or it could go very badly. His arm is the least of his worries. I don't want to talk about it over the phone."
"I'll be on the next flight out." He said.
"Alright. I'll call when I know more about Tom's condition." Harry ended the call and went to stand outside the examination room to watch while they worked, ignoring the patrolman standing there as well.
"Mr. Ryan?" The doctor asked. He was young enough that Harry suspected he was a resident. "Mr. Ryan, can you hear me?"
Tom swallowed and nodded. "Yes."
"Okay, good. We're having difficulty stopping the bleeding. I suspect that when you were shot the Ulnar vein was nicked. We're going to prep you for surgery. It should be an easy fix once the vascular surgeon gets in there. You're going to be just fine."
"Alright," Tom said, slowly. He felt cold and tingly. His arm ached. His head ached. His heart ached worse than everything else combined. He didn't think he was going to be alright any time soon if ever and he knew had no one to blame but himself.
The doctor patted him on his good arm. "Let's get him prepped for surgery." He said, "We have his blood type on file from his previous stay with us." He walked out of the examination room, tossing his gloves in the garbage as he passed.
"How is he?" Harry asked.
"Are you family?" Dr. Harris asked.
"Close enough. I'm Captain Harry Lipschitz. Tom works for me. I'll be calling his parents in Boston to relay the information."
The doctor frowned and seemed to consider his options before proceeding. " The gunshot wound was more severe than it appeared on the surface. Through and through wounds can be difficult to gauge but he really should have been brought straight here regardless. The ulnar vein was nicked and the bandaging didn't maintain enough pressure to staunch the bleeding. There was no way it was going to for long. He's going to need surgery to repair the vein. We won't know until later how much damage was done to the nerves in his arm. I don't think the damage to the muscles was extensive. To make a long story short, he should be alright. It's just going to take time and physical therapy."
"Thank you, Doctor." He said and turned to go back into the examination room where they were getting Tom into a hospital gown.
"Harry…" Tom said, surprised to see him there. "I ahm…" He swallowed, not sure what to say, he'd said an awful lot to him in that tape a few hours earlier and he had no idea how the older man was going to react.
"What were you thinking, Thomas?" Harry said more gently than he normally would have. "Why the hell did you sit there and let yourself bleed all over the place, huh?"
Tom gave a one-sided shrug. "I wasn't thinking. It was a case of the lights are on but nobody's home."
"I think we can say that's been the case for a couple of weeks now." He said. "At least you were in the police station when they found you. That will help."
Tom nodded. "I've been an idiot."
"An understatement," Harry said. "It's going to get worse before it gets better. For now, just hang in there, and do what the doctors and your union rep tell you. I called your father. He's going to be on the first flight out of Boston tonight."
"Cassie has the spare key to my place. Ask her to give it to Dad so he doesn't have to get a hotel. I wish you hadn't called him."
"Which is a sure sign that you haven't recovered from your recent case of the stupids," Harry said. "As I said, for once, do what you're told, and you'll get through this. I'm gonna go. Take care of yourself, Tom."
He stepped back into the corridor and looked over at the patrolman standing guard who was giving him a disapproving look. "Did you have something you wanted to add officer?"
"No Captain." He said looking embarrassed.
"Good. Keep it that way."
"Yes, sir."
Harry knew where the waiting room for the OR was. He'd spent a lot of time there over recent years. He knew that even a simple surgery could result in death and Harry wasn't going anywhere until he was certain that Tom was out of the woods.
He called Liam again and told him that Tom was going into surgery and why. He got the flight information before ending the call. His next call was to Cassie.
"Harry, I'm not in the mood to talk right now." She said.
"I'm not interested in your moods St. John and I don't care about your issues with Tom. You have the spare key to his apartment, which his father is going to need when his plane lands in five and a half hours. You have the option of going to pick the man up at the airport and giving it to him yourself or you can bring it to me here at the hospital and I will handle it. Which is it going to be?" Mood? She wanted to wait to be in the mood. He'd give her a mood.
"Hospital? Why are you at the hospital?" She asked.
"Tom is going into surgery. Which of us is meeting Liam at the airport?"
"I don't think I can face him right now. I'll bring you the key."
"You do that," Harry said and ended the call. It was probably better that Liam Ryan heard his son's recent escapades from him anyway. He called Frannie and told her that he wasn't going to be home any time soon and that he was going to wait at the hospital until he received word that Tom was safely through surgery. He wasn't surprised when Frannie told him she'd be there in twenty minutes. There were many reasons he loved his wife. Her compassion was at the top of the list.
Cassie walked into the waiting room a few minutes later. She looked as miserable as Tom had. She sat down beside him. "What happened? Was he attacked in holding?"
"No. The bullet nicked a vein. The bleeding started up again and if the half-panicked report is anything to go by there was a puddle on the floor before his cellmate was able to get the custody sergeant to come to take a look. The doctor says he'll be alright."
"You're worried about him." She said. "He's beyond our help, Harry. There's nothing we can do for him now." She took Tom's key off of her key ring and handed it to Harry.
"I think we're going to have to disagree on that. It's just not going to be easy." He sighed. "He's gone and landed himself in it this time."
"I don't want to talk about it." She said.
Harry tensed. "Just like that, you're washing your hands of him?"
"Just like that." She said. No, it wasn't just like that. He'd torn her apart and she wasn't ready to let that go. Eventually yes, but not now, not yet.
"Then there is no reason for you to be here. You can go on home. Thank you for bringing me the key." He was tired. Emotionally as well as physically. She might have the luxury of walking away. He couldn't see his way through to do that himself. Not over a stupid mistake. Unfortunately, if he was going to be able to help Tom he was going to have to keep his distance and appear impartial.
"Oh," Cassie said, not expecting to be dismissed like that. "Alright…" She didn't know what she was expecting. She didn't know what she was thinking or feeling if she was being honest. But she certainly hadn't expected the cold shoulder.
January 18th
Tom woke several hours later. He pulled his tongue off the roof of his mouth, with a sound like Velcro being pulled apart. One arm was bandaged and braced. The other hand was cuffed to the bed rails. It was a sensation that left him feeling helpless.
"It's alright, Son," Liam said as he pushed the call button to let them know Tom had roused. "It's alright." It wasn't. None of this was alright. It made him angry to think about it. His son had been conned and used and now he was being railroaded by the police. Treated like a criminal. Liam Ryan was very angry indeed.
"No Dad, I don't think it is," Tom said quietly. "I don't think it's going to be alright for a very long time."
"Don't give up just yet. Things may look bleak right now but things aren't over yet." He said. "The doctor tells me you came through surgery just fine. "
He tugged a little at the handcuffs. "I'm sorry, Dad." He was humiliated and he could only imagine that it was going to get worse.
"You haven't done anything wrong."
"Actually I did." Tom said "I left the jurisdiction while IAB was investigating the shooting. I shot a man that was married to Virginia. I … I didn't know that at the time, and he had a gun that no one can find. So now it looks as though it was murder. I don't think there is a way out from under this."
"We'll get through this," Liam said. "One way or another."
A nurse entered the room. "Ah good, you're awake." She said. "Let's get your vitals."
Liam moved out of the way to let her get close to her son.
She checked the temperature of his right hand and checked his pulse on that hand as well. "So far so good." She said with a smile. The blood pressure cuff was set on his left hand, the one cuffed to the bed. She watched as the machine filled the cuff, and waited for it to empty again and give her the reading. "A little low but that's to be expected with blood loss. I'll send the doctor word that you're awake. I'll have some water brought in for you. We'll hold off on food for a while. Anesthesia can cause nausea. "
Tom nodded. "Thank you." He sighed when she left. He caught a glimpse of the patrolman seated outside his room. "Guess they think I'm still a flight risk."
"I don't know what they think." Liam said "I know who you are son, warts and all. You're no murderer. Anyone that thinks so is a fool at best."
"Did you get the key to my apartment?" He asked.
"I did. I'll get the place straightened up. They searched it and left things a right mess when they did."
"You don't have to do that."
"What else am I going to do while staying there?" He knew that his son would be going to jail for a little while no matter what they did or proved. He wasn't going anywhere until that was settled one way or another.
"Does Mom know?"
"She does. She'd be here if she could get time off work."
Tom blushed in embarrassment. "You both must think I'm an idiot."
"I think no such thing. You lead with your heart and you always have. This time it bit you in the ass. I'm sorry that you had this happen to you."
Tom shook his head "I should have known better. I'm a cop. I should have seen through it."
"You are trained to track down criminals and arrest them. It's not a superpower, Son. You're not omniscient. Even a Homicide detective can be conned. Especially when they're lonely. You'd been seeing this woman for three months. She took her time setting you up. She was able to be subtle about it. It's not a crime to be fooled by a con artist."
"Dad-"
"No," he said firmly. "I did not bring you up to wallow in self-pity. It might be perfectly natural to want to do so, but you stop it right now, Thomas Patrick ."
"Yes, sir." He said and let the conversation drop.
An hour later the surgeon entered his room. "Good morning, Mr. Ryan."
"Call me Tom." He said.
"Alright, Tom." He said. "I know your arm has to be hurting. I've ordered a painkiller for you. I'm also going to be sending you down to radiology to get an MRI done. It will allow us to see if there is any nerve damage and make sure that the repair took. For now, tell me, are there any sensations in the arm other than the pain of course?"
"I've had these… pains, although that's not the right word. It's a crackling burning sensation. That's been happening off and on since I was shot." Tom said.
"That is nerve pain." He said. "The MRI will tell us how severe the damage is. It's possible that you'll need a second surgery but we'll talk more about that once I have the results of the test."
Tom nodded. "Worst case scenario is what?"
"Worst case scenario is that the radial nerve was severed. It can be repaired surgically, but it might lead to weakness in the arm and hand. Occasionally this can lead to limited use. It will require extensive physical therapy during recovery. The best-case scenario is that the nerve is only bruised. That can heal with rest and a bit of physical therapy. Either way nerve pain is going to be part of your life while things heal."
Tom nodded. "If the nerve is severed how long until you can operate?"
"We need to give the arm time to heal from what's already been done. We can schedule it for a couple of weeks out. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I've put in orders for the MRI. As soon as there is an available slot they'll come to get you. We can discuss things tomorrow after I have a look at the results."
Tom nodded again. "Thank you, Doctor."
"Get some rest, Tom. One of the nurses will come and give you your pain medication. I'll talk to you tomorrow morning." He left the room, passing the nurse in the hall.
"How is your stomach doing?" She asked as she injected the Dilaudid into his IV port.
Tom gave a shuddering sigh as the medication flooded his system almost immediately. "It's… it's okay. But I can't eat like this anyway. We can skip it. " He tugged at the handcuffs enough to make them rattle. He felt his eyes roll back and it was suddenly hard to stay awake.
"We'll see what we can do about that. For now, get some rest."
"I don't think I have much choice." He said and laughed a little.
She laughed too. "I don't think you do either. I'll check on you again a little later"
Tom watched her leave, then gave in to the urgent need to sleep.
They came to take him to radiology half an hour later. Tom slept through most of it.
Harry had spent the majority of his morning dealing with the Internal affairs rottweiler Sean Galloway, and Craig Alexander. They were determined to submarine Tom Ryan without really committing to the course. The DA was reluctant to charge him with murder, as he knew Tom's character and couldn't reconcile that with intentional homicide. At least that was what Harry hoped. Galloway wasn't willing to recommend that Tom be fired. They were going to put him in suspension limbo if he managed to get out of jail. Suspended without pay. It took a Herculean feat of will to keep from strangling them both outright. At least he still had his medical and duty limitation benefits for the time being. They couldn't take that from him as they were benefits he paid for rather than granted by the powers that be. It was a poverty wage in West Palm Beach's economy but it was something at least.
He walked into his office and closed the door firmly. He had a few minutes to compose himself before the new detective arrived. Will Adams, late of the Organized Crime Task Force. He'd pair him with Cassie and worry about who to partner with Tom later if she couldn't find the right mood. That still annoyed him. Not in the mood. He knew it was unreasonable to be as upset by that as he was. That knowledge didn't change his opinion though.
Harry sat down behind his desk and opened one of the drawers. He took out a bottle of Pepto bismal and drank from it. He drank Pepto the way some Captains drank whiskey. He did not have time to give in to his ulcer.
Will Adams was the sort of man that turned heads when he walked by. It wasn't that he was handsome, even though he was. It was more that he had a presence that was impossible to ignore. The way he moved called to mind a sleek, powerful cat on the prowl. He was tall and lean with dark hair that hung past his shirt collar. His eyes were dark, peering out from a hooded brow. He sported a tightly groomed beard and mustache. His clothes were casual. Black denim pants, a black button-up shirt with no tie, and black leather boots.
Cassandra took notice as he went past her desk and toward Harry's door. Her eyes followed him all the way there. She sighed and then smiled a little even though she wasn't truly happy about anything at the moment. She picked up a case file and began to look it over.
A few short minutes later Harry's door opened. "St. John. My office please." Harry said and stepped back from the door and went back to his desk.
Cassie closed the door behind her when she walked in. She took the only empty chair in the room and sat down. She wanted to ask Harry how Tom was after his surgery but she didn't. He was too painful to talk about. He had let her down on so many levels that she didn't know if there was any coming back from it. This hurt worse than their divorce. It felt like she'd never really known him at all.
"Cassie, this is Will Adams. He just transferred in from Organized Crime. He's your new partner." He almost added until Tom came back to work, but if last night had been any indication she wouldn't want to go back to the way things were anyway.
Will flashed her a smile, the sort designed to melt hearts. It was wasted on Cassie St. John. "It's good to meet you." He said.
"You too," Cassie said.
"Right, good. Now get out there and get busy, there are cases to solve." He said. He looked between them. "Now Children."
Cassie nodded and got up to head back to her desk, Will Adams walking at her side. "Tom's desk still has his things. I think they'll pack that up soon though."
"I think I can handle that for a few days." He said. "So, what case are we working on?"
Tom slept through the morning and off and on during the afternoon. The patrolman finally came to unlock the cuff at dinner time. This was only because Liam had made such a stink about it, including actually contacting the department and threatening them with multiple lawsuits and as he put it free publicity if they didn't. They had after all not brought his son to the hospital right away, which they really should have done. Those making the decisions refused to leave it off entirely but had been 'persuaded' to let him have his hand during meals.
Tom picked at his food, having no appetite. He only forced himself to eat because his father was hovering.
He was more upset by the situation with Cassie than he was by anything else at the moment. It was worse than their divorce had been. At the same time, he'd been angry and drunk and hurting. He'd lashed out. Now she refused to see it for what it had been. Him being a jerk and nothing more. It wasn't a true confession or spite. It was drunken anger and it had cost him his best friend.
The next round of pain medication was much milder, but he pretended to sleep so that his father would stop telling him everything was alright. Hang in there, buck up, or any other platitude he could come up with to try and make himself and his son feel better about a horrible situation. Eventually, he did fall into a troubled sleep.
January 19th
The following morning Dr. Franklin returned. "Good morning Tom." He said.
"Morning."
"Let's take a look at that arm." He said and began his examination. "The MRI showed that the blood vessel was repaired and everything is flowing as it should. Can you squeeze my fingers?" He asked and nodded as Tom did so. He had to move to the other side of the bed to have him do the same with the other hand for a comparison. He really did hate when the police insisted on cuffing people to a bed. "There is a little weakness in the hand." He continued with the examination. "You have some nerve damage that I want to repair with a second surgery."
Tom nodded "Alright. Will that give me full use of the arm and hand again?"
"It should. What we're going to do is give the arm time to heal and the swelling to go down. Then we'll do a second MRI and see what that shows. After that, we'll schedule surgery. So I'll have my office set up the appointment with Radiology for next week."
Tom nodded. "Alright."
"You'll need to keep the compression dressing on for a few days," Franklin said. "I want to keep you one more night. " He didn't trust the man's jailers to be careful of that wound since they hadn't bothered to bring the man in until it was an emergency. He had never asked what the charges were. He didn't care. It wasn't his job to care about that sort of thing as long as he wasn't a danger to the staff. What he cared about was not having to redo a perfectly good venous repair because of rough treatment. "Just to make sure everything is alright."
Tom nodded. One more night chained to a bed and not in the fun way. Well, he supposed he could live with that. What was the alternative? A jail cell? That would come soon enough. "Thank you, Doctor."
Jessica Montoya, his union rep arrived shortly after lunch and introduced herself to Tom and his father. "So, I met with DA Alexander, Officer Galloway, and Captain Lipschitz this morning. The DA hasn't decided if he's going to press charges or not, and wants to continue investigating."
"I've never denied the shooting." Tom said "I even left a detailed report on tape for Harry… ahm… Captain Lipschitz. What is Craig waiting for? A signed invitation?"
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Son," Liam said.
"It's not a gift horse, it's the sword of Damocles." Tom countered. "What does Galloway have to say."
"He's out for blood, Tom. Not the most professional way to say it but it's the truth. I'm going to recommend that you get an attorney to represent you at arraignment. Alexander may be proceeding with caution because of your record on the force, but Galloway is pushing to keep you in jail while he does so."
Tom nodded.
"You are unfortunately suspended without pay during the investigation, but they can't take your benefits from you. I saw in your file that you have paid for duty limitation benefits. So you will still be receiving funds even though only a percentage of what you are normally paid."
He nodded again. "I guess I should get a public defender for now. I'll be in the hospital another night. They'll be able to take me back to jail in the morning."
"The union will be looking into why they didn't bring you to the hospital immediately."
"I didn't tell them I needed to go to the hospital. It was a through and through and had been bandaged."
"If it were any other prisoner they wouldn't have waited to be told." She said. She had her suspicions that Galloway had a hand in that decision but she didn't say that out loud. Something about that man set her teeth on edge and it wasn't just that he was Internal Affairs. "You let us worry about that. You just get better and get an attorney to go with you to arraignment."
"I will." He said. "Thank you for coming to talk to me."
"I'll talk to you again as soon as I hear anything else." She said, "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Ryan." She told his father.
He nodded "you have a good day, Ms. Montoya."
The day drug by for Tom. His father tried to keep the conversation light, he made jokes and talked about the restaurant, and the things Tom's siblings were getting up to. His younger brothers were firemen like their father and Liam had stories of their latest adventures to tell. His sister was considering becoming a nun. The last one took him by surprise but if that was what she wanted, more power to her. He just hoped it wasn't because of yet another messy breakup.
His father left when visiting hours were over and Tom lay in bed flipping endlessly through the TV channels. Nothing was able to hold his attention for long. The nurse came in at midnight to take his vitals.
"You really should try to get some rest." She said.
"I'm not exactly exerting myself." He said with a sad smile.
"How are your pain levels?"
"Not bad. I'm just not sleepy." He lied. He was exhausted. He was just dreading the morning. Once he was released from the hospital there was no avoiding going back to jail. He figured the judge at arraignment would agree that he was a flight risk and deny bail.
He drifted in and out of nightmare-ridden sleep in the wee hours of the morning, giving up on it entirely when the nurse came in at shift change to take his vitals and give him his morning medication. Neurontin for the nerve pain and Ibuprophen for the residual pain from the surgery.
January 20th
His discharge papers came in a little after breakfast had been delivered. He supposed that prison food was better than hospital food. In theory anyway. At least the eggs didn't come in a plastic-looking slab.
He wasn't taken back to holding, but rather directly to the courthouse to await arraignment which didn't happen until nearly four that afternoon. He didn't meet his public defender until he was led into the courtroom.
Craig Alexander was at the prosecutor's table, he wasn't leaving it to one of his ADAs. Tom thought maybe he'd changed his mind and decided to press charges after all. They all rose as the judge entered the room.
She looked to his defense attorney. "How does your client plead?" She asked.
"To what charges your Honor? I've received no documentation or notification of any charges having been filed against my client, Detective Sgt Tom Ryan."
She raised an eyebrow "What do you have to say about that, counselor?" She asked the district attorney.
"There are no charges as such," Craig said. "Detective Ryan is under investigation for a shooting that resulted in death. He was told not to leave the jurisdiction but fled to Miami. I believe him to be a flight risk and request that you deny bail."
"Your Honor," the public defender began. "My client was apprehended in his own precinct building. He was seated in his captain's office, giving a detailed taped report of the events leading up to and after the shooting in question."
Both eyebrows went up then. "Is this correct, Mr. Alexander?"
"Yes, your honor."
"So, you're saying that a man who was apprehended in the local police station, is a flight risk. Would you like to explain this to me?"
"He did leave the jurisdiction, your honor."
"While there were no charges filed then or now." She said looking over the paperwork. "And he came back not only to Palm Beach but to the police station where he was not exactly hiding."
"That is correct your honor."
"So you are telling me this is an internal police matter at this time, not a criminal proceeding."
Craig Alexander looked pained. "That is correct, your honor."
"And you are requesting that this court keep a man behind bars when you're not even ready to press charges. You are familiar with the constitution? I seem to recall that being part of the requirements of a law degree."
"Yes, Your Honor."
"I see here that he was detained under guard at the hospital where he was taken only after a gunshot wound turned into an emergency. Something I am sure the policeman's union will have a hay day with. So I am going to rule those 48 hours as counting against the 72 hours you are allowed to keep someone prisoner without filing charges. Tell me, Mr. Alexander, truthfully, because I will be checking, do you have any intention of filing charges within the next 24 hours?"
"No, Your honor." He said reluctantly. There were too many inconsistencies in the police investigation for him to feel comfortable putting the man on trial for murder yet.
"In that case, I have no choice but to release Detective Ryan. This court is not in the habit of violating people's rights, Counselor. I suggest you remember that in the future before you waste my time again."
"Yes, Your Honor."
"As for you, Detective Ryan. I suggest you keep people informed if you intend to leave the jurisdiction again. Until charges are filed you are free to go."
"Thank you, Your Honor." He said, feeling almost lightheaded with relief.
