Faith startled when the door to the Ladies Room opened. With reddened eyes from the crying she looked up and recognised the face of Nurse Mary Proctor. Immediately, Yokas got up, afraid to ask.
"The surgery was tricky," Mary began and Faith felt her throat tightened. Her hands were clutched. The Afro-American nurse read her body language and instantly smiled.
"No, don't worry! He's out of surgery and awaits full recovery!"
One could almost see the relief falling off Faith's body like rocks. Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks. She stepped forward and wordlessly embraced Mary.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"You can go visit him in a few hours, he's still under anaesthesia. Go home and have some rest. I'll call you when he's awake."
Home. The thought hadn't crossed Faith's mind yet. Fred and the kids would know by now that there had been a shooting in the precinct. She needed to call them and let them know she was alright. And that Bosco would be alright too. But she couldn't leave her partner alone, so Yokas searched her pockets for change.
"You can use the phone in the Nurse's room," Mary Proctor offered. "But you really should get some rest too…" She pointed towards the mirror.
Faith had a look. Mary was right. She looked horrible.
"I guess this day was a total waste of make-up," she sighed. When Mary laughed, she joined and let all the tension fall off of her.
Walsh slowly woke up again. Voices had made their way into his subconscious and made him drift awake. For a moment, he thought he was in the bunk room at the firehouse, wondering why the Lieutenant was up there. But as soon as Billy opened his eyes, he remembered. With a silent moan he carefully moved his head and instantly, the room started spinning again. When the dizziness faded, he could make out Alex Taylor next to Lieutenant Johnson, outside the glass doors of the trauma room.
"Charly needs to stay here a few days minimum," Alex told her superior. "She breathed in some nasty stuff there and needs to be watched for a while. These things can cause severe problems later on. They already had to perform CPR on her here. Smoke poisoning is some dangerous thing…"
Johnson let his eyes wonder off. He was torn between being glad Converse hadn't been following orders and thus got Walsh out alive and being angry with her for not following his order to retreat.
"What about Walsh?" the Lieutenant asked, unaware of Billy being eavesdropping inside the trauma room.
"He's got a concussion, probably still from the crash you had with the rig earlier."
Johnson returned his attention to the blonde paramedic.
"Keep my posted, I'll be upstairs for a few," he said and slowly made his way to the elevator while Alex kept standing in front of the trauma room. Making sure she wasn't paying attention to him, Walsh tried to sit up. What he had heard had troubled him deeply. He needed to check on Charlene, right now. The headache was getting weaker, so whatever they had been giving him here worked. Only the dizziness and nausea still kept him company. Billy had to sit upright for several moments before he dared to put his feet on the ground.
"And what do you think you're doing?" Alex asked with pretended anger, hurrying towards him to keep him laying down.
"You need rest, Billy. Doctor's orders!"
She smiled, but it quickly faded when she saw the look on his face.
"You heard us, huh?" she asked and Billy nodded.
"I have to see her," he just said and tried to get up again, but Taylor gently pushed him back into the cushions.
"You're not going anywhere on your own legs at the moment!" she said determined and signed him to stay where he was. "I'll be right back!"
She hurried off, only to return less than a minute later, pushing a wheelchair.
"You're transportation is waiting, My Lord," she said mockingly and pointed into the chair, trying to get a smile from her colleague. And it worked.
"Thank you, My Lady," Walsh returned smiling slightly. Ales helped him into the wheelchair, careful not to rip off any of the tubes from the IV.
"Next stop, Charlene Converse's room."
As soon as they were out of the room, DK spotted them and soon enough, Walsh was surrounded by his colleagues who had been waiting to visit him.
"You scared us good, bro!" DK chastised him.
"Thanks for getting me out, man," Walsh returned and felt a stab of guilt inside his guts.
"Charly saved your ass! We were on retreat when she found you. She gave you her mask cause yours was broken," he told him.
Walsh tried to smile slightly to keep up the façade, but inside of him he felt his stomach tighten. He felt sick. If it hadn't been for him, Charly would be okay. She had to be revived because he had been so damn stubborn to ask for help.
It was quiet in the ICU room, except for the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the sounds of the respirator machine. Johnson's stomach tightened when he saw his best friend in that room, tubes going in and coming out of his body, hardly recognisable as the man he knew almost his entire life. Now he found himself standing in the doorway of the room, hardly able to talk.
"Annie?" he gently said after all, but it didn't really sound like his voice.
The woman by the bed turned. She looked tired and worried. She knew her husband was going to die, it was only a matter of time.
"Francis!" she exclaimed, hurried over and hugged him.
Johnson held her tight and could feel her trying not to start crying.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, well aware that his friend was dying because his company had had that accident and hadn't been able to continue to their assigned location.
They parted again.
"How are the kids?" Johnson asked gently, referring to her son and the soon-to-be-born baby.
"Frankie keeps asking when his Dad comes home…and I don't know what I'm supposed to tell him…" Now she couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Lieutenant Johnson wrapped his arms around her again.
"I'm sorry this happened," he said again in a whisper.
"If there's anything I can do…"
But before Mrs Martin could say anything, the heart monitor started beeping fast and faster, before it finally showed a flat line.
"What's happening?" the woman wanted to know, confused and terrified. She had dreaded this moment and yet there had been nothing she could have done to avoid it.
Johnson guided her out of the room when several doctors and nurses came hurrying in.
"He's dying…" he whispered and drew the Annie close to him, watching with little hope how the doctors and nurses did their best to keep John Martin alive. But after 20 minutes of trying, they drew back from Captain Martin's body.
"Time of Death…" was all Annie could hear before she cried out all her pain and despair…
