Alex looked up at Deakins when he entered her room the next day and said quietly, "Get me out of here."
He looked at her in surprise. "You know I can't do that, Alex. Your body thinks it went ten rounds with King Kong; we're still not sure if they've found all the injuries. You're keeping your ass in that bed until they can promise me that you'll be safe if you go home."
She started to shake her head in denial, but the headache she thought she'd beaten back returned when she moved it. "I'm beat-up, but I'm not in any danger. I can't stay in here, Captain."
He slipped into the chair next to her bed, the chair that seemed to have been occupied by everyone she knew in the past few days except one tall, brooding man, and took her hand. "I hate hospitals too, and believe me, if I thought you'd be okay leaving, I'd spring you myself. But right now you're miles from okay." He paused to look down at her and his face softened when he saw the distress in her eyes. "Everyone's terrified for you, Alex. All we can think about is what we could have done, how we could have stopped him faster, before he could get to you. I'm not sure about anyone else, but personally, I need you to recover safely because I don't think I'll be able to recover until you do. And that means you're staying here."
She turned her face away from him, moving slowly. "All I can do in here is think."
"Do you want me to bring you some books or magazines?"
"How about a metal file baked into a cake?"
"Very funny, Eames. Listen, I've got someone here who wants to see you," Deakins said, standing up and leaning out the door.
She looked back to him, suddenly not able to breathe. Had he finally come? Maybe to deliver the final blow to their partnership?
Her breath came out in a disappointed rush when her visitor stepped into the room. He was short and slim, light-haired. Young. And she had no idea who he was.
"Detective Eames," Deakins said formally, "I'd like you to meet Officer Tom Pierce. He's the one who . . . took care of you until the paramedics arrived."
She managed a weak smile to hide her disappointment. "I guess I should thank you for that, Officer."
Deakins patted her shoulder. "I'm going to go hunt down my wife while you guys talk. She went in search of coffee a while ago and she hasn't come back . . ."
Alex just nodded slightly and watched the younger man sit in the chair Deakins had just vacated. "Hi," he said nervously, obviously intimidated by the tubes and wires attached to her body.
"Hi," she said, dredging up a slightly larger smile this time. "Do you mind if I ask what exactly Captain Deakins meant when he said you took care of me?"
Pierce swallowed. "He was exaggerating, really. I guess you probably don't have any idea how many people came running into that room to help you and your partner. I was just part of the crowd, except since I have EMT training, I went right to you instead of helping your partner with the, uh, suspect."
"Tell me about it," she said. "Please."
"What do you want to know, exactly? There are probably a lot of blanks I can't fill in."
"He knocked me out when he hit my head into the wall. After that, I don't remember anything until waking up after surgery. I just . . . I need to know what happened in that room."
He looked down at his hands, then back up at her. "Are you allowed to have coffee?"
"Huh?"
"It will, uh, probably take a long time to tell you about it. I was thinking I'd go get us some coffee to drink while I talk."
"Oh. Well, for the moment I'm not supposed to consume anything the nurse hasn't approved, but if you want to grab some for yourself that's fine. And, you know, if you should happen to bring back an extra half-cup or something, just by accident . . ."
He grinned. "Understood, Detective. Milk or sugar?"
"Sugar, please." She watched him disappear from the room, then closed her eyes. She had to get out of here. Lying in this bed, she felt like a fake, a drain on everyone's resources. It was a feeling she loathed.
Five minute later, Pierce was back with two styrofoam cups. He set one down on her bedside table and cracked the lid, then returned to the chair and pulled the lid off of his own. "Be careful; it's hot."
"Thanks." She carefully picked up the cup, which was filled only about a third of the way, and opened the lid the rest of the way. "Would you tell me about what happened now?"
"Um, yeah." He looked down at his hands for a second. "Look, I don't want to upset you too much, ok? I'll tell you what happened, but you have to try to just listen without freaking out."
"I can do that," she assured him.
"Ok, well . . . I was standing at a friend's desk when we heard a god-awful crashing sound coming from one of the interrogation rooms. Just about everyone jumped up and headed over there to see what had happened, and I got to the door of the room just about the same time as your captain. The guy was . . . he had you up against the wall with his arms against your chest. It looked like he was pushing hard. I guess that's what broke your, uh, ribs. You were bleeding from the cut in your head.
"And then your partner grabbed him in a headlock. He looked really . . ." The man paused. "He looked scared, but also like he wanted to kill the guy. Which I guess isn't that strange, considering it was his partner being hurt. But anyway, he grabbed the guy and tried to pull him away, but the guy fought back and he . . . I think he was going to try to strangle you, but your partner kept his hold on him and literally threw himself backwards. They both went flying over the table. That's when the rest of us got the door open."
She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind of the image of Bobby throwing himself at someone who obviously had no problem with killing police officers.
"Are you ok, Detective Eames?" Pierce asked. "You just got really pale."
She blinked slowly. "I'm ok. It's just, you know . . . overwhelming. And call me Alex, it's quicker."
"Ok, Alex then," he said with a careful nod. "Like I said, I went right to you once I saw that there were plenty of people on the guy who attacked you. You were on the floor - like you told me, you'd been knocked unconscious - and bleeding heavily, mostly from your head. You know by now that it was an artery, right?"
"Yeah. I'm told I would have died pretty quickly if someone hadn't put serious pressure on the cut to slow down the bleeding. I'm guessing that was you?"
Pierce blushed slightly. "Yeah. At least, at first it was just me. I used part of my shirt because I didn't have anything else to use, and I just put it against your head and held it as hard as I could. Then a couple seconds later your partner stood up from cuffing the guy and came over to you. He said your name and I told him you were unconscious. He knelt down on the other side of your head and I asked him to help me with the pressure. He put his hands down and pushed, and then his face just kind of went . . . blank. Looking back now, I think that was probably the first chance he got to actually process what had happened and it scared the hell out of him."
"Goren doesn't get scared," she said, attempting to shake her head. "At least, not that kind of scared, the kind that makes you freeze."
"Well, he did a good imitation of it, then. He just kept staring down at your face. I think he started whispering a prayer or something like that. Then when the medics got there to take over, your captain had to help him stand back up, I'm not sure why. Then they loaded you onto the stretcher, and they went." He took a sip of his coffee and looked back up at her. "That's where I leave the story, so I can't really tell you anything that happened after that."
She swallowed, then nodded. "I understand. Thank you so much for doing this, for telling me."
"No problem. I'm really relieved to see that you're basically all right. Do you have any idea when they're going to let you out of here?"
"Nowhere near soon enough. Just before you came in, I was begging Deakins to get me out today."
"Uh, if you'll excuse my saying so, you don't look like they've put you completely back together yet."
She sighed. "That's basically what he said. Listen, come back anytime, if you feel like visiting, ok? I'm bored out of my skull in here."
"Sure, uh, Alex." He started to reach out a hand to her, then stopped and said self-consciously, "I guess you're not really up to a handshake yet, huh?"
"One day soon," she said with a smile. "God, I'm tired."
"I'll leave you alone then. It's been nice meeting you."
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Ten minutes after Tom Pierce left Alex's room, a nurse entered the visitor's lounge down the hall and shook the shoulder of a dark-haired man asleep in his chair. "Detective?"
Goren blinked, then looked up at her. "Is she ok?"
"She's asleep. I know you asked me to tell you when she was . . ."
He stood up with a grimace, hating the bruises that covered his torso from his impact with the table a few days ago. "Thank you. You're sure she's out?"
"Yes. She had a visitor who stayed and talked to her for a long time, and once he left she was out like a light."
"Ok, good." Running a hand through his hair nervously, he went to take advantage of the few minutes a day he allowed himself to see her. The minutes when he couldn't look into her eyes and see blame.