Title: To Do His Part (5/6)
Author: Master F&M
Fandom: Law and Order: SVU
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Fin has left SVU and is back in Narcotics. Runs within the timeline of Infinity.
Disclaimer: Law and Order: SVU and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I just get to play with them
Author's Note: Sam is a character of my own creation. She does not exist on the show.
Feedback: Please give some. For entertainment purposes only.
CHAPTER 5
Sam stood over the stove stirring the sauce she'd prepared for dinner. Since it was going to be just the two of them tonight, she was making her spaghetti in honor of the first dinner she'd ever cooked for Fin. She was excited about their ten-year anniversary coming up, and was trying to re-enact as much of that first dinner as possible. She'd even pulled out the old Star Wars movies to watch.
She was glad the case Fin was currently working on was almost over. She knew he wasn't supposed to tell her much about his work, but since she had enough clearance with the Bureau to find out what she wanted to know anyway, he figured he might as well. He'd confided to her earlier that morning that his department expected to close out his operation today. Sam was more than happy about it. She hated it when he went undercover, putting himself in even more danger than usual. Federal agent or not, like any other cop's wife, she feared what could happen to him on those assignments. Sam shook her head to clear away the unpleasant thought. At least tonight it would be over. Over, that is, until the next time.
Sam checked the pie she had baking in the oven. It was ready, so she took it out to cool. She always tried to have a little celebration for Fin whenever he cleared a case. She knew how important the work he was doing was to him, and wanted him to know that she, at least, appreciated it. Not that others didn't. It's just that more often than not, Fin only got to see the downside of his job: the dealers and users who hated him for what he did. To counter that, she always made sure to end each of his cases with a little reward, and tonight's would be special. She was planning on having a nice, hot bath waiting for him when he got home, then, after he'd had a chance to soak and relax, the anniversary dinner, followed by a massage while he watched his movie. She smiled to herself. She didn't think they'd get too far into the movie.
Sam turned the heat down on the sauce and went to answer the door when the bell rang. She hoped Gerrie hadn't changed her mind about keeping the boys overnight. As dearly as she loved them, it was good for them to spend some time away from her every once in a while. It was good for her, too. She opened the door and was surprised to see Munch.
"Hey, Uncle Munchie." She left the door open for him to come in, and hurried back to her sauce. She didn't want it to taste scorched.
"What are you doing here? Not that I mind, of course, but I thought you and Briscoe were heading up to the cabin today. Did you guys change . . ." She looked up at him and stopped cold at the look on his face.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
He hesitated for only a second. "It's Fin."
Immediately, she knew what he meant, but refused to acknowledge it. "What do you mean? What about Fin?"
The part of her mind that feared the worst slammed shut on the possibility. Munch, knowing her proclivity for closing herself off from things she didn't want to face, gently took her by the arms and looked her in the eyes.
"He's hurt, Sam. We need to get to the hospital. Now."
She caught the urgent tone in his voice. "Is he alive?" She whispered the words, afraid to hear the answer but needing to know all the same. Munch didn't lie.
"As far as I know. But it's bad. We need to get going." He walked around her and turned off the burner before leading her out the door.
Sam sat in silence on the way to St. Vincent's while Munch relayed what he knew. Apparently he and Briscoe had decided to make nostalgic stops at their old stomping grounds, the 16th and 27th precincts respectively, before heading off for their weekend fishing trip. They were at the One Six when the 10-13 call came through. When he learned that it was Fin, he tried to find out how he was, but all he could get from someone at the scene was that Sergeant Tutuola had taken two in the chest while protecting his partner, and that it was bad. Munch had then immediately left to collect her.
"So he could be dead."
Nearly in shock, and unaware that she had spoken aloud, the thought spilled from her without the slightest hint of emotion. She felt herself starting to go faint, and grabbed onto the dashboard to steady herself. He can't be gone. She repeated the mantra over and over in her head to keep from fading. Munch spoke to reassure her.
"Someone would have called me. We'll find out more when we get there. I'm sure everything is going to be fine." Contrary to his nature, and because Fin meant more to him than he was willing to admit publicly, Munch had abandoned his normally fatalistic outlook, and was choosing instead to be optimistic.
"Tutuola's tough. You'll see. He'll pull through this." She nodded, thinking he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than her, then stared straight ahead, willing the car to move faster.
Sam encountered a wall of blue uniforms as she stepped off the elevator onto the surgical floor. A blue wall that parted like the Red Sea as she and Munch made their way to the desk. Sandoval intercepted them.
"He's in surgery." Mike was torn between wanting to comfort Sam and the guilt he felt over Fin's condition. "He's been in there for a while, but they haven't told us anything." He shook his head, then took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry. I know it should be me in there."
Sam studied his face. Although Fin had never let on about it to him, she knew that he was very fond of his partner. More so than he had ever been of Deuthorn or Sanders, who had come after him. She herself had even invited Mike over to the penthouse a few times for dinner. Fin wouldn't want him blaming himself; particularly since Fin taking those bullets had more to do with him than it had to do with Mike.
"This isn't your fault. He wouldn't want you feeling guilty about it." She looked around absently, then headed for the waiting room.
Munch gazed into Sandoval's guilt-ridden face, and decided to spare him. Initially, he had wanted to lay into him for not having checked Fin's shooter for a second piece in the first place, but now realized that Mike would have enough to deal with as it was. He knew first-hand the self-inflicted anguish Mike was going to go through for being the one who walked away. In lieu of the reprimand, he gave Sandoval's shoulder a squeeze then went to join Sam.
He found her seated in a corner of the room. It, too, was filled with uniforms, as well as several members of Fin's department- both on and off duty. Despite the fact that Fin very rarely socialized with anyone outside his immediate circle of friends, most people in the precinct respected him as a cop, and had come here to show their support.
Sam closed her eyes and listened to the sound of their mingled voices:
"Hey, if anyone can survive two hits to the chest, it's Tutuola."
"He was a good cop. Is a good cop. One of the best . . . "
"You know, he never had much to say, but you always knew where you stood with him."
"He's tough. Strong. He'll pull out of this and be up in no time."
"Sam?"
Sam opened her eyes to see George Huang kneeling in front of her. "I stopped in at the station and Elliot told me what happened. He and Olivia will be here as soon as they can." He studied her for a moment then took her hand.
"Let's go for a walk."
"What?" She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. "A walk?" She looked around.
"I can't . . . I have to be here." A sudden thought came to her. "The boys . . ." She closed her eyes again.
"I have to call his mother . . . and Dorian . . . I . . . "
Munch placed a hand on her arm. "I already took care of all that. The boys are going to stay with their aunt until we pick them up. The Tutuolas and Dorian are on their way." He gave her arm a pat.
"Go get some air. I'll come get you if we hear anything." George pulled her to her feet, and she let him lead her out into the hall to a quiet corner.
"I know Munch is here, but I wanted you to know that you're not alone in this."
"Alone?" She laughed lightly and looked down the hall to where police personnel spilled out of the crowded waiting room. "I'm not. There are tons of people here."
"But I'm here for you."
Sam blinked back a few tears and hugged him. "Thank you."
George smiled, then nodded. He walked her further down the hall, bought her a soda from a machine, then let her sit quietly with her thoughts. It was somewhat of a relief to her to not have to put on a brave front for everyone. When she was ready, he took her back to the waiting room.
Denise and Vernon had arrived while she was out. Dorian and his wife, Lisa, came in a few minutes later. They exchanged hugs, then Sam sat hand in hand with Fin's mother while they all silently prayed for his well being.
"Mrs. Tutuola?" Everyone stood as the surgeon entered the room. Sam took a step forward.
"Yes. How is he?"
"We could talk out here . . . ?" Dr. Carter offered her the privacy of the hall. Sam took a quick look around. She knew that at that moment she was sharing Fin with everyone in the room.
"It's okay. Just tell me."
"We removed two bullets from your husband's chest. The first shattered a rib upon entry, but did minimal damage to any soft tissue. The second was the one we were concerned about. It was lodged in his heart muscle, but we got it out."
"So he's going to be okay?"
Dr. Carter nodded. "He'll be down for a while, but barring any major complications, he should make a full recovery."
There was an audible sigh of relief around the room. Sam stood in the center of the circle of family that hugged and held on to her. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.
Sam stood outside Fin's hospital room door listening to Munch read to him from the day's paper. Not having left his side since he came out of surgery, she'd been there now for nearly forty-eight hours.
"It says here," Munch read from an article, "that during the course of a mugging yesterday, the overweight victim knocked her attacker down, then sat on him until the police arrived. Now he's threatening to sue her for assault. Can you believe that?"
"Why are you reading me this crap?" Fin's voice was still a little weak.
"Well forgive me for trying to interject a little levity into your day. I could stop altogether if it's annoying you that much."
"Nah, nah . . . Just read me the sports, though."
Munch sighed as he turned the pages. "I'm so underappreciated."
Sam smiled as she entered the room. "Glad to hear things are getting back to normal." She walked over to Fin's bedside and tucked in his blankets before leaning over and kissing him lightly.
"The doctor says you should be able to go home in a day or two, but you'll still need to be on bed rest." Fin started to protest, but she cut him off. "No arguments." She straightened up.
"I need to go take a shower and change out of these clothes." She smoothed back his hair. "I'll only be gone for a little while."
"Take your time, Princess. I'll stay with him." Sam smiled gratefully at her uncle before turning back to Fin.
"I'll be back in an hour; two at the most."
Munch started to read again as she left the room. "Did you know that New York City now has more than eight million people living within its five boroughs?"
"The sports page, Munch."
Sam entered the apartment making a mental list of all the things she needed to do. She wanted to have everything ready for Fin when he got home.
Suddenly thirsty as well as tired, she stopped in the kitchen for a drink before heading to the shower and saw that the pot containing the remnants of her aborted anniversary dinner was still on the stove. She took it over to the sink and dumped it. Watching the red sauce slowly run down the drain, her resolve finally broke, and she began sobbing uncontrollably.