Bye Bye Baby

A/N: Thanks again for the overwhelming and awesome comments for this story. I am thrilled that you are all enjoying it. Here is the update to stop all the nail biting... ;-) Enjoy and have a great weekend guys...x

Chapter 16

Struggling to push away the overpowering darkness that held Norm fast, the Sergeant could feel urgent hands on his back and shoulder and muffled voices speaking to him. His head felt heavy and muzzy and he struggled to open his eyes or to interpret what the voices were saying. Another louder call of his name finally breached the fog hanging over his brain as he startled awake and jolted up, regretting it instantly as the stars and white spots dangled precariously before his eyes as he struggled to make out where he was and what had happened.

"Haseejian? You ok? What happened? Where's Mike and the hostages? Are they still on the roof?"

The questions came at him thick and fast as Norm finally cracked his eyes open successfully and looked up into the face of Lieutenant Pat Collins. As he pondered the hastily asked questions, the situation cleared in his brain and he realized he had been taken down! Not knowing whether his assailant had gone after Mike and Steve, he suddenly flailed against the restraining arms holding him down for his own good and spoke breathlessly.

"Collins, someone took me out ... Keller's in bad shape up there ... Mike's up there with him ... They might need ... help ... Gotta ... help them ... " he uttered as his efforts to get up only resulted in a wave of dizziness that rocked him to his core and made him feel increasingly nauseous.

"Haseejian, you stay put! You took quite a blow. Let the medics look at you. I'll go help Mike and Steve. The building is secured but Damacov is still missing."

That troubling news only made Haseejian worry all the more and he continued to fight against the medic's probing fingers at the back of his head and the hands of the other Armed Response Unit Officer holding him down so that he could be checked out.

"Oh my God ... He's probably gone after them. Hurry Collins!"

Lieutenant Pat Collins didn't have to be told twice and he hurried off down the corridor as Haseejian watched him disappear through the doorway at the end as he swatted at the hands that held him so securely.

"Ok, ok lighten up, will ya? I'm staying put, alright? Gees! They're my friends up there, ya know?" he added with worry, as he found himself praying silently that Collins wasn't too late in his rescue bid as the sudden sting of antiseptic connecting with the back of his head made him wince.

Steve's breathing was becoming more labored and from where he was slightly hunched against the small wall, he felt his chest tight and constricted, the broken ribs seemingly more aggravated in this new uncomfortable position and every inhaled breath causing a stabbing pain to tear through his lungs. Mike was so intent on stopping the bleeding from his side that he seemed oblivious to the extra strain on Steve's breathing so Steve stammered breathlessly.

"Mike ... Sit me up a little more ... will ya please?"

At Steve's words, Mike whipped his head up away from his ministrations and frowned as he saw the ashen grey appearance in his young partner's face.

"Steve, I don't think we should move you too much just in case. We don't know how badly you're hurt yet and it's probably best to wait until the medics can assess you properly, ok?"

But Steve shook his head violently, protesting with the last ounce of energy he had left.

"No Mike ... I NEED to sit up. I can't ... breathe properly ... in this position ... PLEASE."

The last pleaded word came out in a desperate and anguished sounding tone and it alarmed Mike all the more. Finally hearing Steve's wheezing worsening, he let go of the wound and with one hand under his right arm and his other arm thrown around behind the young man, he lifted him as gently as he could into a more upright sitting position now leaning forward, his head drooped back against Mike's arm as Mike held him firmly. Mike listened and heard Steve's breathing ease a little and sighed heavily with relief. Looking down now to try and get a look at Steve's face he asked anxiously.

"Is that helping?"

Steve nodded as he felt the dagger type pains easing in his new less claustrophobic position. Leaning against Mike's arm, he allowed himself a few moments of respite as he looked straight ahead and thought he saw a figure standing off behind Mike to his right. In his current fevered and sickly state he wasn't sure if he could trust his blurry vision too well but blinking away the residual moisture from his eyes, Damacov's evil face came into view, his Macarov Pistol aimed squarely now at Mike's back. Reaching down in panic he found Mike's 38" discarded on the ground at his fingertips and picking it up, not sure where exactly he found the strength from, he pointed it towards the Russian and pulled the trigger as he shouted in blind panic.

"MIKE ... WATCH OUT! ..."

Mike startled at the yell and the unexpected reaction from Steve and ducked instinctively as several gunshots rang out all at the same time. When the noise stopped, Mike bolted up again and looked behind him, his heart hammering in his chest, just in time to see the figure of Grigori Damacov still standing with two gaping bullet wounds in his chest, as he lowered his weapon and then as his eyes rolled in his head he pitched forward face first into the concrete. Off to the left Mike saw Lieutenant Pat Collins with his weapon pointed in Damacov's direction and sighed with relief that things hadn't turned out a lot worse. He waved a grateful hand at Collins and then turned his attention quickly back to Steve who was still sitting up, Mike's gun still held tightly in his blood covered hand, the hand trembling violently and the smell of gunpowder clinging thickly in the air around them.

Steve appeared to be in shock, his arm and hand locked in an outward position, still pointing at where Damacov had stood minutes before, despite the fact that the man was down and wasn't getting back up anytime soon. The violent shudders wracking Steve's body continued as Mike gently placed his hand over Steve's and spoke softly but firmly into Steve's right ear.

"Steve? It's ok now. It's over. You got him Steve. He can't hurt anyone anymore ..."

He tried to take the gun from Steve's grasp but Steve was holding onto it for dear life as if he expected the seemingly immortal Damacov to rise again and threaten those he cared about once more. Looking over and seeing Collins checking the Russian and relieving Damacov of the Macarov, Mike saw the other Lieutenant shake his head towards him to indicate that Damacov was dead and spoke again more authoritatively.

"Steve, give me the gun now. It's alright. He's dead Steve. He can't hurt anyone anymore ... Come on now ... Give me the gun Buddy boy."

Finally his words seemed to get through to Steve and very slowly Steve's grip eased up on the gun and Mike removed it from his grasp easily and pocketed it immediately out of harm's way. He felt Steve slump sideways against his chest from the added exertion of the previous few agonizing minutes and held him tighter as Steve's hand dropped back wearily to the ground, unable to hold it up a second longer. Steve's almost whispered voice followed and Mike had to strain his head forward to make out the words.

"He's ... dead?"

"Yes Steve. He's dead. It's all over now. You can rest Buddy boy."

"Are ... you ok Mike? He didn't ... get you, did he?"

Mike scowled at Steve's question, as typical as it was of his young partner to think of everyone but himself, especially at a time like this when he himself was in dire need of medical assistance, but knowing that he wouldn't rest until he got an answer, Mike quickly spoke to reassure him.

"No, he didn't get me ... All thanks to you ... Thank God you made me sit you up when you did ... It's lucky you saw him ..."

"Mike ... Mike I ... don't feel ... so ... good ..." Steve stammered breathlessly as his head suddenly dropped forward and he lost consciousness.

"Steve? STEVE? " Mike roared as he cradled Steve against him, and stroked his cheek tenderly. "Steve, you have to hold on. Do you hear me? STEVE?"

When no response came from his partner, he anxiously placed his fingers on the pulse point of Steve's neck and feeling the weak but steady beat beneath his fingertips nearly shattered his own resolve as he felt his own emotions fray. Swallowing back the constricting lump now in his throat, he shouted across at Collins.

"Pat, we need medics up here NOW! ... Steve's hurt bad and I need them to check the baby."

Collins made a dash for the doorway, calling back as he did.

"I'll get them up here right away Mike."

Mike returned his attention to Steve as he spoke emotionally.

"Did you hear that Buddy boy? Help is on the way. Just don't quit on me now Steve ... Don't you QUIT on me ..."

Collins was true to his word and within less than a minute a team of three medics were running towards them and sunk to their knees beside them on the ground. As the first male medic took Steve from Mike's grip and laid him on the ground gently to be checked, Mike helped undo the makeshift sling and reaching under the baby blanket, he took Brigitte out from her cozy resting place and snuggled her to his chest, still wrapped poignantly in Steve's fancy jacket. The second female paramedic quickly joined Mike and started checking her out too.

Mike watched as he held Brigitte for her check up, while the third paramedic assisted the first and they started probing and checking Steve over from head to foot. The first paramedic had a stethoscope out and was listening to Steve's chest and Mike watched with increasing alarm as he saw the young man's facial expression change to one of deep concern. Dropping the stethoscope back around his neck, he barked at the second in a panicked tone.

"His heartbeat is irregular ... I think he's going into shock! He's also got a high temperature and there's some erratic breath sounds on his left hand side ... Get that chopper up here now. We need to move him FAST ..."

Mike shuddered at those words and seeing his reaction to the news about his partner, the kindly female paramedic reached out and gently took Brigitte from Mike and spoke compassionately.

"That's ok. I'll take her now. She's doing fine ... We just need to get some fluids into her. She's a little bit dehydrated ..."

Mike glanced gratefully in her direction and yet reluctantly let go of the tiny little person that Steve had fought so hard to save. The fact that she was wrapped in Steve's jacket making the separation even harder. He remembered how earlier Steve hadn't wanted her to spit up on his expensive jacket and swallowed hard again at the fact that he had somehow over the course of the following hours, obviously ceased caring about it in his efforts to keep this tiny person alive and well.

As he watched Brigitte now being held by the paramedic, he looked back at Steve to see an oxygen mask being placed over his face and various needles and tubes being connected. He watched in a surreal way at the unfolding scene around him, knowing that now he had to stand back and allow the medical people to do their job and save his partner and friend. He heard the third medic speak into a walkie talkie requesting the chopper ASAP. A fourth medic had joined the other two and with all three medics frantically working around Steve, he couldn't even get near him if he tried. He heard one paramedic comment on Steve's soaked shirt and saw it quickly removed but Mike wasn't prepared for the sight that met his eyes as it was.

Now lying with his bare chest on view, Mike gasped as he saw the whole of Steve's left side covered in massive contusions from below his armpit down towards his hip and also noted that his side looked swollen in patches. There was another large bruise around his abdomen and the cut from the machete stood out on the right hand side, still oozing fresh blood as the fourth medic struggled as he had mere minutes before to stem the flow. The cut looked to be at least five inches long. Now able to scrutinize his partner better as the danger was finally passed and as the sun rose a little more and the sky brightened considerably, Mike saw the massive bruise adorning his partner's left cheek and the swollen split lip that looked red raw and painful. He saw the medic place a small ice pack against Steve's lip slotted in just under the breathing apparatus. He noticed also how the medic gently palpated Steve's left side and frowned.

"He's got broken ribs on this side most definitely but they seem to be still in place. " he uttered to the other medic. "We'll have to move him very carefully."

Mike inhaled sharply on hearing those words, confirming his earlier suspicions as to why Steve hadn't been able to feel Brigitte moving against his left side. Steve's long list of injuries were growing by the second and his guilt at having left him earlier without suitable back up, grew steadily with it.

"He's really burning up ..." another medic called out as he had placed a hand on Steve's brow."Better get a look at that leg now. "

The first medic carefully cut the trouser leg from just above where the knife was situated leaving Steve a sorry sight, with his top half completely exposed and now with one trouser leg intact and the other cut off from the top of his thigh. As the leg now lay exposed, Mike had to choke back the bile that rose in his throat as he saw the thickness of the blade impaled in his partner's thigh, the skin redder than he had envisaged around the wound and the blood drying and sticky around it too. The medics worked steadily, cleaning the blood away as best as they could and applying antiseptic and wrapping some sterile gauze around the knife carefully.

"Do you have to remove that now?" Mike asked anxiously.

"No, we'll leave that to the Doctors in the ER. If we take it out now he could start to bleed heavily again and his body is already in enough shock without further blood loss. "

Mike was relieved that they weren't going to risk that procedure and watched as his overcoat was handed back to him and several blankets were thrown over Steve instead and the first medic continued to monitor his heartbeat at regular intervals.

A third team of medics then arrived carrying a Stokes stretcher and Steve was expertly transferred onto it and safely secured by straps. All ready for transport, Mike heard the chopper approaching and turned his face away, holding the fedora firmly in his grasp as the wind from the rotor blades threatened to take it from his head and froze him to the core. As soon as it landed successfully, the stretcher was picked up and Steve was hurried towards it, accompanied by the first and third medic and the paramedic holding Brigitte. The other medic remained and spoke to Mike loudly over the hum of the rotors.

"Lieutenant, you can ride with them in the chopper if you like. There's room. There is no helipad at San Francisco General so we have to fly him to Hunter's Point Naval Shipyard and an ambulance will be waiting there for us to take them to the Hospital. "

Mike nodded gratefully, not sure previously if he was going to be allowed to or not. Collins had returned at that stage and joined Mike.

"Pat, do you think you can handle securing the scene here for me if I go with Steve?"

Seeing the worry for his partner etched in every line on his face Collins gladly agreed.

"Of course Mike. Everything's under control here. I'll update Olsen and finish up here. You go with him"

Collins watched as Mike nodded gratefully and turned to head for the chopper before he shouted after him.

"Oh and Mike ... I hope he'll be ok ..."

Mike again waved a grateful hand and Collins saw him duck and climb into the chopper as minutes later it lifted and flew off at speed, before his gaze once more fell to the prone form of Grigori Damacov as he then started barking instructions to his men to call for the Coroner's wagon.

After Steve had lost the battle to stay awake, his other senses had remained heightened despite the fact that he hadn't the energy to open his eyes or verbally communicate with anyone. He heard Mike's words and longed to answer to reassure his partner and friend but his body was not cooperating. He then felt numerous hands all over him, prodding and probing. He longed to yell as cold fingers probed his side where his broken ribs protested or to scream when the glaring cut was pressed closed causing unbearable pain to vibrate through his side taking his breath away temporarily but again his voice refused to make a sound. He felt the strong flow of oxygen being forced over his face and its initial force panicked him but again he was helpless to protest so he had no choice but to wait until his burning lungs got used to the increased oxygen flow. He felt the invading needles piercing his flesh and something cold on his lip but the worse part of all was the tortuous level of agony that sent waves of pain up and down his leg as it was exposed and antiseptic applied. He wanted to scream at them not to touch it but instead the excruciating pain threatened to pull him further into blissful oblivion.

He yearned for that merciful release but instead cold waves of air washed over him repeatedly and dragged him back to semi consciousness as he felt himself being lifted and carried somewhere. There was the distinct sound of rotor blades churning and he knew he was being air lifted off the roof in that instant but where was Mike? He hadn't heard his partner's voice for a while and wondered if they had been separated. Then he felt somebody grip his hand and heard a whispered voice in his ear.

"Steve, it's Mike. You're going to be ok. Do you hear me? You're being air lifted off the roof and you're on your way to the hospital. You'll be there soon. Hold on now. I'm right here with you."

A feeling of relief washed over him as he heard the comforting reassurances from his partner and friend. He tried to tighten his fingers around the hand that held his but wasn't sure if he managed it or not. He felt the deeper pull of unconsciousness but then heard something else, something that pulled him back. It was Brigitte crying ... Her piercing cries sunk in through the growing fog in his brain and he felt worry grip his heart. What was wrong with her? Was she hurt? The worry for the infant he had been assigned to keep safe gave him just enough strength to force through the darkness that was closing in and his eyes to open just a crack as he tried to see what was happening.

Mike saw Steve's eyes flicker open and alerted the medic.

"He's WAKING! Buddy boy ... That's it. Look at me now. Stay with us if you can ..."

Mike could tell it was taking Steve everything he had to keep his eyes open even the small bit they were but he also saw Steve's lips moving under the oxygen mask yet no sound seemed to come out. He leaned his ear down to Steve's lips and lifting the mask to one side for a brief moment, he whispered.

"What Steve? What are you trying to say? I can't hear you Steve."

Steve tried desperately to make his voice work but it was NOT cooperating. He forced a single broken word out in a pained and hoarse voice and Mike heard it in his lowered position.

"Bri ... gitte?"

Finally realizing that the baby's cries were upsetting and worrying him he straightened up and stroked Steve's burning forehead gently as he spoke softly in a reassuring tone.

"She's alright Steve. She's just hungry. They'll give her something when we reach the hospital in a few minutes. Don't worry now. She's ok. Settle down now. "

Mike felt Steve relax on hearing his answer and watched as the medic hastily replaced the mask over Steve's face and spoke firmly.

"I'm sorry Lieutenant, the mask has to stay on for now ..."

"Of course ... Sorry ..." Mike apologized as to his further dismay, Steve's eyes drifted closed again but he definitely felt Steve's grip tighten reassuringly on his hand.

The rest of the short journey to the Hospital was a little fraught due to having to transfer Steve from the chopper to the waiting ambulance and then having to travel at high speed with sirens blaring and Brigitte crying on and off to San Francisco General. Steve's condition had somewhat deteriorated along the way as his grip on Mike's hand had loosened and his heartbeat had fluctuated wildly several times. Mike had tried speaking to him as before but he hadn't gotten any response the second time around and Mike's gut was a twisting, nervous mess by the time they finally reached the medical staff at San Francisco General. Steve was whisked off at high speed as they exited the ambulance and Brigitte was rushed off in a separate direction leaving a kindly nurse to escort Mike to a suitable waiting area to wait for news. And that was where Rudy found him twenty minutes later sitting on a hard wooden chair, twisting his fedora endlessly through his fingers as he stared at the cold tiles and replayed the scene he had witnessed in his head over and over as he had reached the roof and caught sight of Steve teetering way too close to the edge, back at the warehouse, with Dmitriy beating down on him terrifyingly. He thought of how easily it could have happened the other way around and how Steve could have been plunged to his death just as easily. He was so engrossed in his pained surmising that he hadn't even registered Olsen's arrival until a hand touched his shoulder and drew his attention.

Looking blankly up and seeing his superior Officer and old friend, he straightened up and flustered at being caught daydreaming.

"Ah Rudy ... I was ah ... just wondering when you'd get here ..."

"I got here as quickly as I could Mike. Collins wasn't sure which hospital they were taking him to, so it took a few phone calls to find out. Is ... is there any news on Steve yet?"

Mike looked up and shook his head, the worry palpable between the two men.

"No ... No, not yet. But he ... he was badly hurt Rudy ... It will probably take a while for them to get him sorted. "

Rudy shifted where he stood as Mike's exhausted looking eyes turned to stare at the floor again and the Captain felt sorry for his Lieutenant.

"Can I get you some coffee Mike?"

Mike nodded gratefully.

"Yes please ... That would be nice ..."

Rudy smiled and headed off for several minutes, returning with two steaming polystyrene cups of thick black coffee, Mike's purposefully sweetened.

"Here you go Mike. Get that into you. You look beat ..."

Mike thanked the Captain and drank a few reviving mouthfuls before grimacing and asking in a curious voice.

"How many sugars did you put in this thing?"

Rudy couldn't help a smile as he answered.

"Oh just a couple. I thought you might need the sugar boost." Then he continued in a more serious tone." Was ... was he really in bad shape, Mike?"

Mike's face fell and darkened as his hands curled around the comforting warmth emanating from the cup.

"Yeah ... They used him like a punching bag from what I could see ... He was cut with a ... " Mike swallowed hard finding the word unbearable to even say but knowing he had to. " ... a machete and he had a knife embedded in his leg ... It looked infected and he had a fever ..."

"A MACHETE?" Olsen gasped, taking in the full horror of the sentence as he struggled to get his own breathing back under control at that revelation. "God almighty!" he added as the implications of that sunk in.

Realizing what Olsen was imagining, Mike quickly countered the worry with words of comfort.

"It didn't seem to be too deep thankfully but he lost a lot of blood all the same."

"What about the baby Mike? Is she alright?"

Mike nodded, his face a lot lighter at the mention of Brigitte which Olsen took to be a more positive sign.

"Yes, she's fine. They're checking her over just to be sure and the paramedic thought she was a bit dehydrated but I'd say she's missing her Mother more than anything. Did you bring Laura down with you?"

"No, not yet. I wanted to be sure she was ok first. I'll call Jefferson and get him to bring her down now. The poor girl has been frantic. She'll be so relieved to hear that news."

Rudy turned to go and make the call but Mike stopped him briefly with a grab of his arm.

"Rudy, it just dawned on me that I ... well I never even asked Collins how the raid went? Did we suffer any casualties on our side?"

Olsen smiled and placed an understanding hand on his Lieutenant's shoulder.

"Well that's ok. You had other things on your mind. We suffered a few but no fatalities Thank God. At least not yet. One of Collins' men took a bullet to the stomach. He's in surgery over at Franklin as we speak. There were a few other minor wounds ... Oh and Norm has a concussion."

At that news Mike whipped his head up and looked concerned.

"Norm? What happened?"

"Looks like Damacov pistol whipped him on his way up to see you guys on the roof. But don't worry, he's ok but he'll have one hell of a headache for the rest of the day... Mind you from what I heard about him when I called Dan, he's a worse patient than you two put together. All he kept asking was how you, Steve and the baby were."

Mike frowned at the fact that another of his men had been hurt and that he hadn't even bothered to ask.

"Is he here?"

Olsen shook his head.

"No, he's over at Franklin too. Looks like they took most of the injured over there but San Francisco General was nearer from Hunter's Point. That's how you guys ended up here. As soon as we hear how Steve is, I'll head over there for updates on the guys. Let me just go make that call and I'll tell you everything else I know then, ok?"

Mike nodded and drank more of his coffee, feeling a sudden, overwhelming tiredness wash over him after their extremely long shift and leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees and rubbed at his tired eyes. After several minutes, he saw a trolley getting wheeled from a set of Double doors off to his right and instantly recognized the prone form of his partner. Getting up, he quickly hurried off after them and as he reached them he called out anxiously.

"Excuse me Doctor. I'm Lieutenant Mike Stone, Steve's partner. What's happening? Where are you taking him? How is he?"

The Doctor turned momentarily, gesturing for the others to keep going.

"Hello Lieutenant. I'm Doctor Morrow. We're just taking Inspector Keller off to the OR to remove the knife from his leg and stitch up his side. He's holding his own right now but we really have to get that knife removed as soon as possible. He has the beginnings of a nasty infection."

Mike swallowed hard at that news.

He has to go to the operating theater for that?"

"Yes, we're not sure until we remove it, how deep the knife is. In case there is significant damage, we will need to have a neuro surgeon on hand to repair any damaged nerves and we'll have to carefully control any further blood loss caused by the removal. Now if you'll excuse me I must follow my patient and we'll update you further after Inspector Keller's Surgery."

"Yes ... yes of course ... Thanks Doctor."

Mike watched as Dr. Morrow headed back down at speed after the disappearing trolley and stayed watching until Steve's trolley went out of sight and for several seconds afterwards too.