While the Heart Beats, pt. 2
Author's Note: People are tweeting photos of Vinny in Jamie's arms this morning. They're killing me. But the first tweet I saw this morning was, "OMG! It's all hitting Jamie today! :-(" And, pathetically, that was all it took for part two to be born.
Jamie slept restlessly that night, despite the powerful medications the ER doctor had prescribed.
Danny didn't sleep at all.
Jamie's couch was comfortable enough; that wasn't the problem. The problem was that by the time Jamie's awful, gasping sobs had dried up; by the time he'd gone still where he was pressed into Danny's side, limp with exhaustion, and Danny and Frank had eased him back inside and thawed him out and managed to get him dry and drugged up, there wasn't much of the night left. Frank had slipped out not long after, his face lined and weary, once Jamie had dropped into his light, agitated sleep. Danny had stretched out on the couch, but as a weak dawn struggled through the heavy clouds, he stared up into the blurry dark and his mind spun on.
Before leaving the hospital that evening, Danny had let himself into the waiting room, looking across the sea of officers with haunted faces and pained eyes. They were everywhere, perched on chairs, tucked into the corners beside half-stocked vending machines, huddled in murmuring groups of two and three. He had nothing to tell them, because as they looked up, he could tell in a glance that they already knew.
"Reagan," a quiet voice said. He turned, and took a breath as he saw Tony Renzulli walking up to him, face tight. "How you doin'?"
He ignored the question. "You got a second, Sarge?" Renzulli nodded, and Danny motioned him out of the waiting room and through the double doors into the ER itself, where it was marginally more quiet.
Renzulli spoke first, his expression tight with worry. "How's Jamie?"
Danny shrugged. "Pretty screwed up. Physically he'll be okay, but..."
"Yeah," Renzulli said quietly. "Be sure and tell him we're all thinking about him, huh?"
Danny nodded, inching aside as a nurse hurried past. "I'd invite you back, but..."
"Nah. I don't think... nah. I'll check in on him later."
"Sarge, do you know who was there? Who was first on scene?" Danny pressed. "I'm trying to put as much of this together as I can. I'm gonna need to know as much as I can to help him."
Renzulli smiled, a bit sad. "Me."
Danny startled. "You were?"
"Yeah. I was out with a rookie transfer from the fifteenth. We were a few blocks away; got the first call. 10-85 while they were still in pursuit."
Danny took a deep breath. A twist of dread burrowed into his heart at the unfamiliar details. "Tell me."
"Not a lot to tell. One of the Lourdes bangers snatched a purse to set them up. Jamie called in a 10-85 in Bitterman, so we were responding to that. We were maybe twenty seconds out when the 10-13 came in. Dispatch made it sound like a war had broken out. They tried to raise him on the radio afterward, but we never got another communication." Renzulli swallowed. "There were about a dozen of us that got to the main quad all at the same time. We must've hit it from every angle, but we never saw a soul except for them. I saw some blood, an unsecured weapon... and then I got a little closer and-" Renzulli's voice cracked on the word, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, they were behind a wall... under cover, you know? And there were chunks out of the concrete everywhere. I don't know how many shots they took but it looked like a bomb went off."
"And?" Danny asked softly.
"Jamie was leaning up against the wall. He had Vinny up against his chest." Renzulli hesitated again, rubbing a hand over his face. "There was a lot of blood, Danny. I'm still not sure whose all it was. Vinny... he was gone, but we didn't know it at the time. He looked bad, and Jamie was in shock, y'know? His eyes were wide open and we couldn't get him to respond. And I didn't know who was hit, or how bad..." Renzulli swallowed again. "I had to get right in Jamie's ear and tell him to let go. The guys still had to pry his hands off his partner. I think he already knew."
"Yeah," Danny whispered, and squeezed Renzulli's shoulder. "Thank you for being there."
"Wish I'd have been there five minutes before."
And God knew Danny wished the same, as he lay there in the fuzzy morning light, eyes wide open.
He didn't sleep. Wouldn't dare. He knew if he did, the dreams would come. In them, Vinny wouldn't be the one collapsed and dead with a hole in his throat the size of a golf ball.
Just before they parted at the hospital, Renzulli had turned abruptly to face Danny once again. "Do you remember last year, when Jamie and I got tossed down the stairs at that church?"
Danny smirked, but it was humorless. "You think I'm gonna forget something like that?"
"The kid came to see me in the hospital afterward. I remember, he said to me, 'That was a close one out there today, Sarge. Could've gone either way but it went ours.'"
Danny nodded, and the grief, unbidden, coiled tightly in his gut.
Renzulli's smile was sad. "Take care of him, Reagan. Huh?"
He had nodded again, not trusting himself to speak.
Sighing, Danny tossed off the white throw blanket he'd found in Jamie's closet and sat up, scrubbing his hands over his face. Suddenly oppressed by the silence, he grabbed the remote control and turned on New York One, the volume low, then picked up his cell phone. He returned texts from his father, Linda, Erin and his own sergeant and was in the middle of a note to Renzulli when he heard a muffled groan from behind him.
Jamie was sitting up in the bed tucked into the loft's far corner. His hair was a mess, his T-shirt wrinkled, and he was grimacing, rubbing at his face with his left hand. His right arm was tucked securely into his side.
"Morning, kid," Danny said softly. "Coffee's pretty fresh."
Jamie didn't respond, and Danny stood, making his way over. "Hey," he said. "How you doin'?"
Jamie pulled in a breath, experimentally, and placed a hand gingerly against his chest. "Pretty foggy."
"I thought those drugs would keep you out a lot longer than this. You want some water or something?"
"Nah." Jamie dropped his hand into his lap, staring down into the palm, then lifted it, studying it. Danny couldn't know for sure but he would bet a month's wages what Jamie was remembering, smeared across his hand. "Danny," Jamie said softly. "It's real, isn't it?"
"Yeah," he said sadly.
"It happened. It all happened? Not a dream, right?" He sounded defeated, exhausted.
"I wish I could tell you it was, kid."
Jamie ran a hand down his face, swallowing hard before tossing back the covers. "I need a shower."
"Don't you want to eat something?"
"Maybe later." Jamie grimaced as he stood, and shot Danny a glare when he positioned himself close, just in case. "I'm fine. Quit hovering."
"All right." Danny stepped back, watching Jamie until he shuffled into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Sighing deeply, Danny grabbed his phone again, dialing the familiar number as he stepped to the window. It was a gloomy morning, the clouds low, the colors washed to gray. "Dad. Hey."
"Danny." His father sounded worse than Jamie had. "How is he?"
"Okay. He just got up and went to take a shower. Not saying much."
"Thought he would sleep longer than that."
"Me too."
"Thanks for staying with him."
"Wouldn't be anywhere else."
"I spoke with Vinny's mother this morning," Frank said, and the words hit Danny like a punch to the gut. "I've got a press conference in ten, and then I'm having my detail take me to her apartment in Queens. If Jamie's up to it I'd like him to come along."
"I'll talk to him, but I'm sure he'll want to go." Danny glanced at the door, hearing the shower start up. "Dad... how was she?"
"In shock," he said quietly. "You remember."
Danny did, and he swallowed, rubbing his eyes. "You need anything?"
"Just take care of your brother for me. We'll be by in about an hour unless I hear from you otherwise."
"Yeah, okay." Danny ended the call and remained where he was, staring out over the city. He wasn't sure how long he remained there, but the sound of the bathroom door opening grabbed his attention, and he turned to see Jamie emerging in a cloud of weak steam, wearing worn gray sweatpants and with a towel draped over his shoulders. "Kid. You done already?"
"I wasn't timing myself." He wiped at his face with the edge of the towel.
"Yeah, well, I meant to," Danny sighed. "Thought you might let yourself turn to a raisin in there if I didn't pay attention."
"I'm fine."
"Yeah." Danny eyeballed his shoulder. "Can I see how that looks?"
Jamie pulled the towel from his shoulders without argument, and Danny grimaced. The injury looked worse than it had a few hours before, the skin just below Jamie's collarbone swollen and turning into a sunset of pinks, reds and purples. "The doc's sure you didn't break your collarbone, right?"
"They said it was fine." Jamie's eyes wandered to the television, and he swallowed hard.
Danny turned, following his gaze. New York One was providing live coverage of the press conference his dad had mentioned earlier, and Frank's solemn face filled the screen. "Live: NYPD Commissioner Frank Reagan," the graphics read. "It's the press conference, you know," Danny said.
Jamie looked away.
"Do you need another dose of meds, kid?"
"I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"I said, I'm fine." He went to the closet in the corner, yanking out a drawer and rummaging for a shirt.
Danny stepped up behind him, choosing his words carefully. "Listen... Dad called. He's going to pay Vinny's mom a visit after the conference."
Jamie froze, and Danny saw the muscles in his back tense. "He wants me to come?"
"Only if you want."
Jamie slowly pushed the drawer closed, his back to Danny, and abruptly, he sat down hard on the floor. Danny stepped closer, crouching down beside him, careful not to get too close. "What's on your mind, kid?" he asked softly. "Or are you gonna tell me you're fine again?"
Jamie curled his hand into a fist. "I need this to be yesterday."
"I'd make it happen if I could."
"How am I supposed to face her?" he whispered. "Vinny's dead and I'm alive. We went in there together and I'm the only one who came out."
"That's not your fault, Jamie."
"It is my fault." He bowed his head, droplets of water sliding down his temple to his neck. "I was there. It was my responsibility to protect him."
"For God's sake, Jamie, don't torture yourself like that. You did everything you could do."
"How do you know?"
"Because I know you."
Jamie tightened his hands on the towel. "They wouldn't let me see him."
"Who?"
"Vinny. At the hospital. I tried to find him, but they wouldn't let me see him."
Danny swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Well, they wouldn't, you know?"
"I need to apologize," he whispered. "I need to tell him I'm sorry."
"Geez, kid," Danny said sadly. "He knew there was nothing you needed to apologize for."
Jamie swallowed, his head still tucked low. "He told me it was okay. I don't know what he was talking about."
Danny's heart sped up, leaping against his ribs. "When?"
"At the end." Jamie choked a little on a laugh. "The Bitter End. Ironic, huh? He had a mouth full of blood and he took his last damn breath to tell me it was okay. To tell me."
"Jamie," Danny said quietly. "Kid... rolling around in the mud like this is no way to get clean, you hear me? Nobody blames you. Nobody."
"They don't need to."
"Right," Danny said. "Because you blame yourself."
"The truth hurts." His eyes were hard, and he let no tears fall.
Danny licked his lips. "And it's heavy, isn't it? And cold?"
Jamie nodded.
"I know what you're going through, kid. I know how it is. And you know what? You're gonna leave that guilt right here, in a pile on the floor-" Danny tapped the wood for emphasis. "And you're gonna get up and get dressed, and you're going with Dad to see Vinny's mom, and you're going to be proud of the cop you are and the friend you were to him. He was proud of you, kid. He was proud to be your partner, and you're gonna honor that. And this shit, all this guilt and all these what ifs? They'll be here waiting for you when you get back. And you can pick them up again. Or you can be brave enough to leave them where they belong."
Jamie pressed his own hands flat against the wood, his shoulders rounded as though carrying the weight of the world. "Danny," he said. "What do I do?"
Danny stood. "Get up," he said, extending a hand to his brother.
And slowly, painfully, Jamie did.