Rosalind
This story and all themes and ideas contained in said story are the sole
ownership of J.L. Scott. Any copyright infringements can be prosecuted in a
court of law.
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no permission..no money, no sue, please?
There wasn't much more to do. Metaboy and Jones had taken a ride down to Brake's building to see if Flinch was there, but unfortunately he wasn't that stupid. Brake didn't know who his friends had been, he'd never actually seen them and he'd never heard any names. Connie and Rita were out on another case, but there was nothing for Andy and John to do to help them so they sat at their desks, trying to look busy with reports. Irving's phone rang.
"Detective Clark?" John looked up and Irving nodded at him. He picked up the receiver.
"Hey, John, it's Patrick. She's conscious" John slammed the phone down without answering and grabbed a radio as he headed out.
"Hey!" Andy yelled at him.
"Gracie's awake!" he yelled back without pausing and left. Every second that traffic held him up drove him an inch closer to going insane, but he finally made it to the hospital half an hour later. Her eyes were shut when he walked in and Patrick was hovering over her. He either hadn't called the rest of the family yet or they were taking their merry time getting there. John couldn't be sure which it was, but he was glad that he would have a few private minutes with his wife before the horde joined them. Patrick looked up as he walked in and nodded without saying anything. He leaned over a little bit.
"Gracie, luv, John's here" he whispered. Her brow creased and her eyes fluttered open. Patrick squeezed her hand before letting go and shutting the door behind himself. John took a second to look at her. The bruises around her throat had darkened, as had her black eye. Red streaks surrounded her crystal green eyes and even her freckles seemed to have paled.
"Oh Gracie" John sighed as he took a seat beside her. She blinked and gave him one of her looks.
"I'm so sorry" he gushed, taking her hand and pushing it against his own face, "I'm so sorry" He could hear her take a deep breath and he looked up at her face.
"It's not your fault" she rasped. She could barely speak. Her throat muscles were probably more bruised than her skin was.
"If I had just gotten up to go get you some pie." he let his sentence die away, knowing he wouldn't convince her that he was at fault. He didn't feel like arguing with her, and it didn't look like she had the energy anyway. She could barely keep her eyes open. She kept blinking slowly and taking deep breaths.
"The twins?" she rasped.
"The doctor says they're fine" he told her, "Ros is still at school. Maria will pick her up and I'll bring her by tonight" Grace seemed to take this all in calmly and didn't bother responding. He brushed a light hand across her forehead and pushed back a few strands of hair.
"Who braided my hair?" she asked. John smiled.
"Andrew and Michael" he answered. Her eyes flashed open, searching for her brothers.
"They're not here now" he told her, "It's almost two" She shut her eyes again, and he could feel her squeeze his hand just a little bit. He kissed her fingers, continuing to stare at the bruises on her delicate throat.
"Who did this to you Gracie?" he whispered, not really expecting her to answer. But she opened her eyes and looked at him.
"Markus Flinch" she said softly. John's head snapped up.
"What?" he demanded. Grace cringed at his raised voice, probably increasing her headache.
"He was."
"I know who he is" John interrupted, not wanting her to speak more than she had to, "We were looking at him for a suspect. He skipped town" Grace didn't respond. John couldn't tell if she'd fallen asleep or not, but he had to get this information to the squad. He tried to pull his hand out of hers, but her fingers tightened up and her eyes flashed open.
"Don't leave me" she begged softly, the glare of fear in her eyes. A new determination ignited in John's heart. He'd never seen his resilient wife afraid of anything. He was going to hurt the one who had put that fear in her eyes.
"Patrick!" he called as loudly as he dared, and even the slight elevation in his voice caused Grace to cringe. But her brother heard and poked his head in the door.
"Call my squad. Tell them Grace ID'd the suspect" John told his brother in law. Patrick nodded, smiled at Grace and then disappeared again. John got up and sat on the side of the bed. He bent over and kissed Grace's brow lightly, then rubbed her cheek with his free hand.
"Don't worry about anything" he told her, "I'm gonna take care of you" Grace smiled slightly as she closed her eyes and let herself fall asleep under his watchful eye.
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no permission..no money, no sue, please?
There wasn't much more to do. Metaboy and Jones had taken a ride down to Brake's building to see if Flinch was there, but unfortunately he wasn't that stupid. Brake didn't know who his friends had been, he'd never actually seen them and he'd never heard any names. Connie and Rita were out on another case, but there was nothing for Andy and John to do to help them so they sat at their desks, trying to look busy with reports. Irving's phone rang.
"Detective Clark?" John looked up and Irving nodded at him. He picked up the receiver.
"Hey, John, it's Patrick. She's conscious" John slammed the phone down without answering and grabbed a radio as he headed out.
"Hey!" Andy yelled at him.
"Gracie's awake!" he yelled back without pausing and left. Every second that traffic held him up drove him an inch closer to going insane, but he finally made it to the hospital half an hour later. Her eyes were shut when he walked in and Patrick was hovering over her. He either hadn't called the rest of the family yet or they were taking their merry time getting there. John couldn't be sure which it was, but he was glad that he would have a few private minutes with his wife before the horde joined them. Patrick looked up as he walked in and nodded without saying anything. He leaned over a little bit.
"Gracie, luv, John's here" he whispered. Her brow creased and her eyes fluttered open. Patrick squeezed her hand before letting go and shutting the door behind himself. John took a second to look at her. The bruises around her throat had darkened, as had her black eye. Red streaks surrounded her crystal green eyes and even her freckles seemed to have paled.
"Oh Gracie" John sighed as he took a seat beside her. She blinked and gave him one of her looks.
"I'm so sorry" he gushed, taking her hand and pushing it against his own face, "I'm so sorry" He could hear her take a deep breath and he looked up at her face.
"It's not your fault" she rasped. She could barely speak. Her throat muscles were probably more bruised than her skin was.
"If I had just gotten up to go get you some pie." he let his sentence die away, knowing he wouldn't convince her that he was at fault. He didn't feel like arguing with her, and it didn't look like she had the energy anyway. She could barely keep her eyes open. She kept blinking slowly and taking deep breaths.
"The twins?" she rasped.
"The doctor says they're fine" he told her, "Ros is still at school. Maria will pick her up and I'll bring her by tonight" Grace seemed to take this all in calmly and didn't bother responding. He brushed a light hand across her forehead and pushed back a few strands of hair.
"Who braided my hair?" she asked. John smiled.
"Andrew and Michael" he answered. Her eyes flashed open, searching for her brothers.
"They're not here now" he told her, "It's almost two" She shut her eyes again, and he could feel her squeeze his hand just a little bit. He kissed her fingers, continuing to stare at the bruises on her delicate throat.
"Who did this to you Gracie?" he whispered, not really expecting her to answer. But she opened her eyes and looked at him.
"Markus Flinch" she said softly. John's head snapped up.
"What?" he demanded. Grace cringed at his raised voice, probably increasing her headache.
"He was."
"I know who he is" John interrupted, not wanting her to speak more than she had to, "We were looking at him for a suspect. He skipped town" Grace didn't respond. John couldn't tell if she'd fallen asleep or not, but he had to get this information to the squad. He tried to pull his hand out of hers, but her fingers tightened up and her eyes flashed open.
"Don't leave me" she begged softly, the glare of fear in her eyes. A new determination ignited in John's heart. He'd never seen his resilient wife afraid of anything. He was going to hurt the one who had put that fear in her eyes.
"Patrick!" he called as loudly as he dared, and even the slight elevation in his voice caused Grace to cringe. But her brother heard and poked his head in the door.
"Call my squad. Tell them Grace ID'd the suspect" John told his brother in law. Patrick nodded, smiled at Grace and then disappeared again. John got up and sat on the side of the bed. He bent over and kissed Grace's brow lightly, then rubbed her cheek with his free hand.
"Don't worry about anything" he told her, "I'm gonna take care of you" Grace smiled slightly as she closed her eyes and let herself fall asleep under his watchful eye.