Chapter 4

"You're lucky," the ER doctor continued to suture the gash on the back of Harper's head, "this is pretty deep and head wounds bleed a lot, but it's not too serious."

Harper winced, she didn't feel lucky. Of course, she knew things could have been much worse. The thought alone made her skin crawl. She looked at Jack sitting a couple of feet away. He watched her carefully, in fact he hadn't let her out of his sight since he'd discovered her in the shrubs outside Connie's apartment building.

"Of course, we'd like to admit you for observation. You've got a pretty severe concussion."

"No, that's not necessary. I'm OK." The only thing that could make this night worse would be a stay in the hospital.

Jack started to protest.

She looked him straight in the eyes, "No." There was no way she was budging on this.

Jack let her win this battle. He was just relieved she wasn't harmed any worse. His mind was still reeling from the night's events. How could this have happened? He'd left her alone for only a minute. He couldn't get the image of her lying on the pavement, blood flowing from her wounded head out of his mind. Worse than the sight of her lying there was the sound she made. It was like a cross between a moan and a whimper. He'd heard his mother make that sound many times. It still made every nerve in his body stand on end.

"OK, then," the doctor seemed a little perturbed at her refusal, "you can't be alone tonight. You'll need to be woke up every two hours for an assessment. Just answer a couple of questions. You know, 'What's your name?', 'What's the date?', 'How many fingers am I holding up?' that sort of thing." He glanced at Jack.

He nodded.

Harper's already nauseated stomach got worse. She hated being fussed over, the idea of all the attention sickened her. Her head started swimming and she broke out in a cold sweat. She must have wavered in her position on the exam table because the doctor reached out and steadied her. He suggested she lie back. That was fine with her, all she wanted to do was go to sleep. She wondered if it was the concussion or just the fact that it was almost 2 in the morning.

The cold cushion was a welcome sensation on her hot cheek. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes, but had the irrational fear that she wouldn't open them again if she did. So she clung to the only real thing in the room: Jack. She laid there in the cold, sterile, homogenous ER exam room watching Jack McCoy watch her. The knots in her stomach began to fade and the fog in her head cleared. She forgot about the nurses flitting in and out, the people swarming outside the door, or the police that were sure to come in wanting her statement. It was just them and she was fine with that.

She didn't remember falling asleep, but she must have. One minute she was lying there staring at Jack in a comfortable silence and the next thing she knew he was standing at the door with Lupo and Bernard. They were speaking in hushed tones, all with concerned looks on their faces. Kevin was holding something in his hand - an evidence bag. It's contents were all too familiar to her. Their concerned looks became clear and her stomach knotted in dread over the coming conversation.

She raised from her prone position too quickly and her head pounded in response. "He didn't rape me." Her voice was raspy and dry. She tried to look as confident as she could. "He just cut them off… that's all."

Cyrus came to her side. "How are you feeling? He sympathetically put is arm around her shoulder.

Harper quickly recoiled from his touch, then immediately shot him an apologetic look. "Sorry…. I'm fine, really. Just a little banged up." She gave him the best reassuring smile she could muster.

"You didn't mention it earlier," Cyrus said sympathetically as he motioned to the evidence bag. Harper thought she detected a hint of skepticism in his tone.

"I guess I forgot. Everything's been a little hazy." That was lie. She hadn't forgotten. She was just trying to delay the unpleasant conversation. Hoping, maybe, at that point Jack wouldn't be around.

Bernard took out his notebook and pen. "Well, maybe we should go over everything again."

Jack, ever vigilant, resumed his post in the chair against the wall as Harper recounted her conversation with the strange man outside the building. He wanted to kick himself - he didn't even notice someone standing there. Hearing the story again only made him angrier. He tried to keep his composure, but the thought of someone grabbing her just yards from him was almost more than he could take.

"And the man that grabbed you, did he say anything?"

Harper hesitated and glanced at Jack. She looked away from his questioning gaze. "Yes, he did." Harper hated to do this to him. "He said to tell my…," she swallowed hard, "to tell my boss to stay out of Sal Misiano's business." She looked reluctantly at Jack. "He said it could be dangerous… for the people around him."

Jack felt like he'd had all the air knocked out of him. This was his fault. This had happened to her because she was with him. How could he have been so careless?

He took a deep breath in an attempt to get a handle on his emotions, "Is that all he said?"

The look he gave Harper was cold - nothing like she'd become accustom to. She held his gaze as her eyes began to moisten with tears. She bit her lip in an effort to contain them, "He said he'd like to pay me a visit."

At that, the room seemed to erupt in chaos. Cyrus was immediately on his phone to Van Buren, Jack practically leapt from his chair shouting something about a protection detail to Bernard. Bernard seemed to be the only one who took it all in stride. In the mist of all the commotion Connie came in to check on her. Too much was going on Harper couldn't concentrate on anything. Connie asked her something, she wasn't sure what. Her head began to throb.

"EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!"

They all looked at her in shock.

"OK…" Her head felt like it was going to explode. "I don't want nor do I need a protection detail." They all began to protest before Harper cut them off. "No. I don't want to hear it. I will not let this - this incident affect my life."

Cyrus stepped closer to her, his boyish smile already affixed to his face. "Harper…"

"You're smile's not that cute Cyrus. No." Astonishingly all this arguing was making her feel almost normal.

Jack'd had enough. "This isn't up for debate Harper."

"It's my life, Jack. I'm not scared."

"Well you should be!" His eyes were large and he was getting very agitated.

Harper scoffed. "You're being a little overly dramatic, don't you think?"

It took all he had not to explode, but he understood where she was coming from. He knew he'd be acting the same way if their situations were reversed. However, he also knew he had to get a handle on this situation or she'd actually think she was in control here.

He, as calmly as he could, leaned in to within inches of her face, his hands on either side of her.

It dawned on her this was the closest they've ever been. Her head started to swim and this time she knew it had nothing to do with her concussion.

"Listen here, these people are not street thugs. They are professionals. They are serious. And there is no way in hell you are leaving this hospital without a protection detail."

Harper smiled and began to interject with a witty comment.

"You're smile's not that cute, counselor. End of discussion."

Harper sat there, quietly resigned to Jack's demands. Everyone buzzed around her. Jack arranged for Connie to stay at Harper's, so she left to get an overnight bag. Cyrus and Bernard were both in and out with questions and more questions. Jack sat at his post. Her head was beginning to feel better, but all the commotion didn't help.

"Talk to me," she requested quietly.

He smiled the warm smile she'd come to know. "What about?"

She shrugged. "Just talk to me. Not at me."

Jack's brow furrowed and he pursed his lips in thought. "What's your favorite book?"

She chuckled, even she knew that was a lame attempt at conversation. "Night by Elie Wiesel. Do you know it?" Her eyelids were heavy with fatigue.

"I do. Interesting choice. The question is: did you read it before it was in Oprah's Book Club or after?" He smiled, glad they had the opportunity for light banter.

She laughed wincing at the pain it caused her. "Don't underestimate me Jack," wagging her finger in disapproval. "And how do you know what's in Oprah's Book Club?"

He shrugged feigning innocence.

After a while her detail arrived. Connie came in shortly later. Everyone was watching her again. She wanted nothing more than to be alone in her apartment stretched out in her bed. Doctors came in and out with instructions for both her and Connie. As she stepped down from the exam table she stumbled. Jack quickly wrapped his arm around her for stability. She leaned into his support, sliding effortlessly in the crook of his arm. The action didn't go unnoticed by Detective Lupo. Harper hated to be so inconsiderate of his feelings, but she just couldn't worry about that right now. She couldn't explain it, but Jack seemed to be the only thing concrete around her.

Her apartment was a welcomed sight. It seemed like it'd been days since she was last there. She was glad to have Connie staying over. As much as she hated to admit it, now that she was here, she didn't like the idea of being alone.

Harper sat exhausted and overwhelmed. "I can't believe Jack put police officers outside my door. It's crazy."

Connie smiled at her friend's persistent denial of the situation. "Cut him some slack. He only wants to keep you safe. For all intents and purposes we're his family."

"I can't believe you're taking his side," her tone was playful and not at offended.

"Seriously. He's protective and given what happened to Alex Borgia… we're lucky he doesn't have armed guards following us at all times."

"Alex Borgia? Who's he?" Harper was always eager to learn something new about Jack.

"She was Jack's assistant before me. She was working on a case and one day she disappeared. She turned up a few days later in the trunk of a car."

Harper was speechless. It seemed so strange to her. Every time she heard a story about Jack, whether it was a daughter he didn't speak to, affairs that ended badly, or as in this instance a colleague that was murdered, it was always sad or tragic in some way. It made her feel for him. She wished he were here because she had the sudden urge to give him a hug.