Black and Blue and Red All Over

Author's Note: I've been having a Blue Bloods marathon for myself this weekend. Best weekend ever? Yes, as a matter of fact. I'm currently working my way through episodes I've never seen, which go from "Chinatown" all the way up to "Hall of Mirrors," which is in the Blu-ray now. I am learning SO MUCH - about Jackie and Danny (how adorable was that "After Hours" driving scene?), about Danny and Linda, about Linda and Frank, about Frank and Jamie. If I thought I was enjoying the Reagan family before, pfft to that. I'm so in love now. SO in love.

All this to say, if this update seems to be listing slightly toward certain aspects of deep and ongoing affection (some might call it schmoop), you'll know why. Jamie needed some TLC by the time his day was over, and I'm feeling inspired at the moment. :D Enjoy!

Missing Scene #5 - Jamie finally makes it home.

Erin Reagan was her father's daughter.

She had never been content with idleness, and had picked a career that would ensure her every moment was scheduled and accounted for. This particular Wednesday had been a day like all the others, flashing by in a whirlwind of cases, appointments, paperwork, interviews and hallway arguments. Somewhere in there, she had snatched a few minutes for lunch and made a half-hearted promise to get herself to the gym over the weekend, but most of her time was wrapped tightly in the New York City legal system, and that was just the way she liked it. Erin took life at a full-out run, even though that occasionally meant the basic staples of life (things like picking up groceries or having more than five hours of sleep a night) got lost in the dust she was kicking up underneath her stilettos.

Every now and again, though, something would crop up that reminded her to slow down, smell the roses, breathe. It had happened on Nicky's first day of school, and on the day her mother got her diagnosis. It had happened again just months earlier, when Dick Reed's arm had locked over her throat and he had forced her against the wall in a deserted corridor of her office.

Today, it had been a thirty-second phone call from her father that reminded her.

Breathe, Erin. Breathe.

And she lifted one in now, pulling up in front of her childhood home and shoving the car into park with a little more force than usual. She closed her eyes.

Her husband's large hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake in the night.

"Mom?"

Nicky normally settled herself into a comfortable cocoon of iPod music and a paperback book in the car, but she was emerging now, tugging her earbuds from her ears. "Mom," she said again. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," Erin said distractedly, pulling the keys out of the ignition. Her husband's voice, soft but urgent in the darkness - sweetheart, your father's on the phone.

Nicky made no move to untangle herself from her seatbelt. "Why are we at Grandpa's?"

"I told you we were coming here."

"No you didn't."

Erin turned an exasperated glare on her daughter. "I told you ten minutes ago. Grandpa asked everyone to come over for popcorn and a movie tonight."

"But it's a school night."

"I know."

"Weren't you saying you had a trial tomorrow?"

"Yeah. It's fine."

"Mom... is everything okay?"

"Sure, everything's fine." She leaned on the console between the front seats with her right elbow, twisting to root down on the floorboards for the high heel she had kicked off while driving. Her father's broken voice in her ear, and she had barely recognized the tears for what they were because she had only heard him cry once before.

"Why are you acting like something's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Mom."

Straightening, Erin clenched her hands around the steering wheel and turned to face her daughter. Although Nicky's brow was puckered with worry and she was clutching tightly to the dog-eared paperback book in her lap, it was impossible to miss the lovely young woman she was becoming. Already the glow of the streetlamps played off her high cheekbones, and her eyes, fine and dark like those of Erin's own mother, were watching with a sharpness that was quickly becoming concern.

Breathe, Erin. Breathe.

"Okay," she said, and reached over the console to grasp Nicky's hand in her own. "I'm upset because your Uncle Jamie got hurt on the job today. And I'm a little annoyed because for some reason, your grandfather only saw fit to tell me this fifteen minutes ago."

Nicky's free hand flew up to cover her mother's. "Is he all right?"

"Apparently, but I still would have appreciated knowing a little sooner."

"What happened?"

Did something happen to Danny, Dad? Did something happen to Joe?

She swallowed. The pain of that night was still quick and fresh, like a knife sunk to its hilt in her chest. "He and his partner were attacked this morning. They were pushed down a flight of stairs."

Nicky didn't speak, but her eyes widened and her lips thinned. Her face seemed to pale in the weak gold light of the streetlamp.

"Hey," Erin said, and squeezed her hand. "He's okay. Your grandfather just wanted us to stop by so we could see for ourselves, huh?"

Nicky nodded, but her face remained pinched in concern. "Why would somebody do something like that?"

Erin leaned over and pulled her daughter into a hug. "I don't know, sweetie."

Nicky's slender arms gripped her around the shoulders tightly for a moment, but when she pulled back, she had a tentative smile ready for her mother. "But you said he's okay, right?"

Erin took a deep breath, and shook away the lingering memories of the night Joe died - the hardest night of her life. "He's okay. And you know what the good news is?"

"What?"

"I bet great-grandpa made his extra-special world-famous cheddar popcorn for you and the boys."

"Yeah?" she grinned.

"Yeah," Erin said with a grin back. "Let's go see if I'm right."

Most of the lights in the house were on, spilling a cheerful warmth onto the manicured lawn and pavers that led to the front door. The muted noises she heard as she approached the porch were those of joyful chaos. Nicky hurried to enter once she heard the laughter of her young cousins, and as Erin followed, she couldn't help but smile herself at the sight of the formal Reagan living room transformed into a party headquarters. The coffee table and ottoman had been pushed aside to make room for a mountain of blankets and cushions on the floor, framed by Mary's matching couches and Henry's favorite recliner. Henry himself was squinting at the remote control, one pair of glasses perched on his nose while the other rested atop his balding head, and Danny was taking a long pull from a bottle of beer, watching his grandfather with fondness. Both Jack and Sean were on the floor, tumbling about in the pillows, and plentiful drinks and snacks dotted the scattered end tables.

Erin dropped her shoulder bag in the foyer, her eyes raking across the room as she breathed in the scent of buttered popcorn. "This reminds me of movie night when we were kids!"

Danny twisted around from his place on the couch, grinning at her over his shoulder as Linda walked in with a platter of vegetables and dip. "Hey, sis," he called. "Come join the party!"

She lifted her eyebrows. "What is this, a blast from the past?"

"Family movie night, re-imagined," Henry said jovially from the overstuffed recliner.

Her face alight, Nicky dumped her backpack next to her mother's bag and slid down onto the floor next to Jack. "Ice Age?" she asked, nodding up at the movie playing in overbright animation on the flat screen.

Henry snagged a DVD case with a black-and-white cover from the end table and waved it ruefully. "I was outvoted."

Setting her platter down on the ottoman, Linda came around the sofa to give Erin a quick embrace. "How are you doing, doll?" she asked quietly.

"Good," Erin replied, casting a final glance at the children before looking into Linda's understanding eyes. "Is Jamie here?"

"On his way," she said reassuringly. "Danny called earlier to tell me what was going on. Henry dreamed this up," she added, keeping a firm arm around Erin's shoulders as she turned to the room. "Seemed as good a way as any to enjoy a Wednesday night."

"I'm all for making time to celebrate," Danny interjected, reaching up to snag his wife's hand. "Now I need my two favorite ladies to come take a load off, and we'll see about getting some beers in your hands, huh?"

"Make mine a highball," Erin sighed.

It was to that laughter that Frank walked into the room, leaning against the doorjamb from the kitchen for just a moment to take in the scene. "Did someone call for a bartender?" he asked, loosening his tie.

"Francis!" Henry exclaimed. "How was your little visit to City Hall?"

"The mayor is full of hot air, not that it should come as any surprise," he replied, then brushed off any further queries with a wave of his hand. "Let's leave office messes at the office. Who needs a drink?"

"Who doesn't?" Henry laughed.

Danny leaned forward, snagging his own beer from the coffee table and offering it to Linda, who accepted with a smile. "So is this a new family tradition now, or what?"

"Some days are a little harder than others," Frank shrugged, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. "And that calls for enjoying life a little harder than usual."

"Grandpa said I don't have to do my homework tonight!" Jack exclaimed, bouncing onto his knees.

"Let's hope he gets a football scholarship," Linda muttered, leaning back against her husband's broad chest.

Danny smiled and wrapped an arm around her. "If not, we'll send grandpa the bill for his college tuition."

Nicky turned brightened eyes onto her mother. "Do I have to do my homework?"

Erin folded her arms along the back of the couch, leaning forward as she studied her daughter. "Dad, do you remember that night when you were working the Vandebaugh case? Mom was up waiting for you, and none of us kids could sleep, so we all came down here in the middle of the night to watch bad Japanese movies on TV."

"I remember that," Danny said. "We were waiting for the pizza guy when Dad showed up instead."

"That's not ringing a bell."

"Aw, c'mon Dad, you remember. Us kids were in grade school, and Jamie was still a baby. It had to be one in the morning, and you had just walked in when the doorbell rang, and it turned out the Pizza Hut guy was right behind you."

He grinned. "Now it's coming back to me."

Erin nodded. "That was a fun night. Special."

Danny glanced over at his father. "We didn't know until we were older just how lucky we were to get you back that night, Dad."

"I think this is a special night too, Nicky," Erin sighed. "We'll worry about your homework later, okay?"

"Really?"

"For now, just grab some popcorn," she directed, laughing despite herself as Nicky did so, with a face like Christmas morning. "I guess I'm setting a bad example here."

"Homework is every night," Frank replied dismissively. "Moments like this can be once in a lifetime."

The front door eased open, and all eyes in the room went to Jamie as he slipped inside the house, tugging off his jacket. A large white bandage was still taped to his forehead, with touches of violet and red bruising edging out from beneath it. He took in the room at a glance then dropped his gaze, looking almost bashful under the attentive eyes of his gathered family. "Hey, everybody."

Erin was the first upon him, Henry and Linda not far behind. "Jamie," she said, and tugged him into a gentle hug before drawing back and cupping his face in her hands. "Are you okay?"

Jamie blushed under the attention. "Sis, I'm fine," he said, trying not to squirm as she smoothed back his hair. "Seriously."

"Hey, take it where you can get it, kid," Danny called from the sofa.

As Erin and Linda took their turns checking Jamie over and Henry observed from close by, Frank walked to the liquor cabinet and made quick work of drinks for himself and Erin. "Jamie," he called, glancing over at his son. "What can I get you?"

"Just a beer is fine, Dad."

"Kitchen, then," he said, tilting his head toward the doorway. Erin gave her brother one last squeeze before releasing him, and Frank looked back at his own father before following. "We'll just be a moment. Carry on."

"No need to worry about that," Henry replied with a smile, settling back into his chair. "Jack, turn the sound up! If you're going to make me watch a movie about a squirrel and his nuts then I want to hear it, by God!"

Shaking his head fondly, Frank moved away from the din of laughter and into the kitchen, where Jamie had hooked a stool with his foot and pulled it up to the island. Frank watched his halting movements carefully as he settled down. "Sore?" he asked softly, setting his own drink down opposite his son.

"A little," Jamie admitted, folding his arms and leaning on the island countertop. "More stiff than anything. I haven't gone down a flight of stairs like that since I was a kid."

"You always did take those stairs too fast in socks," Frank recalled, moving to the fridge. "How's the head?"

"It's fine. Really, I'm okay."

"Good." Frank popped the lid off a bottle of St. Mungo Lager and put it down in front of his son. "I was pretty worried about you today."

Jamie dropped his head, swallowing. "I'm sorry, Dad. About everything. I didn't mean to cause you trouble like this."

Frank eased himself down on a stool across from Jamie. "No need for any of that," he said easily. "Jamie... do you know the name Philip Cardillo?"

Jamie glanced up. "Lead investigator on the case?"

"No, no." Frank took a sip of his drink, palming the glass tumbler in his hand. "Cardillo was an NYPD officer back in the early 1970s. There was a good deal of civil unrest in the city at that time. By far, the worst group was known as the Black Liberation Army. They didn't like cops and didn't pull punches. Over nine months, they shot six officers in New York City. Killed four."

"Really," Jamie said with a frown.

Frank stared down into his glass. "They didn't stop there, unfortunately. In April of 1972, a member of their group placed a fake emergency call claiming that an officer needed assistance at 102 West 116th Street. Do you know that address?"

Jamie's brows dipped inward. "Isn't... that's the Lenox address where we were today."

"It is," Frank confirmed grimly. "The caller in 1972 failed to mention that the building at 116th and Lenox was a Nation of Islam Mosque, headed by a notoriously anti-white minister named Louis Farrakhan. Philip Cardillo was one of the first officers on the scene."

"What happened?"

"When he and his partner went inside, they were ambushed," Frank said quietly. "Mosque members kept other officers from entering the building while Cardillo and his partner were attacked. The ensuing riot lasted for over three hours. It was a disaster for public and race relations in the city."

Jamie put grim eyes on his father. "This story sounds pretty familiar, Dad."

"I've asked the Chief of Detectives to consider that this might be a copycat offense."

Jamie ran his fingertips against the condensation forming on his bottle. "Tell me what happened to Cardillo and his partner."

"They were separated... Cardillo was shot," Frank managed, and Jamie dropped his eyes again as he listened. "Police eventually managed to break down the door to get to him, but the damage was already done. Office Cardillo died about a week later."

Jamie pressed the heel of his hand into his good temple, nodding as he listened.

Frank struggled to steady his voice. "In all the mayhem that followed... no one was ever brought to justice for Cardillo's death. It was, and is, one of the darkest moments in NYPD history."

"What about his partner?" Jamie asked, not looking up.

"Cardillo's partner? He got out."

Jamie lifted his head then, eyes sharp. "He left Cardillo there?"

"I don't know the exact circumstances. Maybe he left, maybe they were separated..." Frank's voice faded as he studied the expression on his son's face. It was hard to say the words he needed to say. "You wouldn't have left Renzulli."

Jamie shrugged, then managed a weak smile. "It might not be the answer you want to hear, Dad, but... honestly, the thought never crossed my mind. Whatever happened... no matter how bad it got, I wasn't going to leave him. I couldn't."

"I know," Frank said softly. "And that's why I'm... well." He forced a smile himself. "I'm glad we're here tonight, son."

Jamie met his father's eyes. "Would you have been scared?"

Frank took a long sip before he answered, letting the alcohol burn a reassuring path down his throat. "I've never been in a situation like that, son, but-"

"I could barely think straight," Jamie interrupted. His eyes had settled on the empty space over Frank's shoulder, his gaze far away. "My head was aching and there was blood in my eyes, and my sergeant couldn't even get up. And there were at least five guys coming down the stairs at us..." He looked back down at the countertop, tapping his fingers against the smooth surface. "I was scared, Dad."

Frank swallowed hard. "So was I," he admitted.

"I thought you said-"

"I was scared for you," he added. "Unfortunately, I've gotten used to the feeling of dread that comes with knowing that my kids are always moving in and out of harm's way. But when my office told me what was going on today... and when I talked to your brother..." He couldn't finish; took another drink. "We could drive ourselves crazy with this," he sighed. "Jamie, you did the right thing. You stayed with your partner. You held your ground. You got yourself, and your sergeant, out of there safely." He waited until Jamie's eyes returned to his, and smiled. "We're home," he said gently. "At the end of the day, that's the only thing that matters."

Jamie nodded, taking a quick drink from the bottle before him. "Thanks, Dad."

Frank leaned back. "And I'm not upset with you, Jamie."

His son shifted uncomfortably. "I know I caused a lot of trouble for you today."

"You did not," Frank said flatly.

Jamie glanced up with a wry, disbelieving look. "Dad, the reverend is planning a protest at police headquarters tomorrow. I know the mayor has to be coming down on you hard."

"None of that is your fault. You were doing your job, son, and you did it well."

Jamie hesitated. His fingers moved unconsciously to his forehead, rubbing gently at the spreading bruise. "Do you remember how you told me that when I decided to give up the law and become a cop, you were disappointed?"

Frank's heart tightened in his chest, but he forced himself to nod.

"And then the whole thing with the Templar..." Jamie ducked his head, tightening his free hand into a fist. "I just... I didn't want to ever give you a reason to be disappointed in me again. And now-"

"Slow down," Frank ordered. He reached out and covered Jamie's hand with his own. "Jamison Reagan, you look at me."

Jamie's eyes snapped up to his father's. The uncertainty and doubt Frank saw there burned him.

He swallowed; took a deep breath. "Son, I may be disappointed that my own dreams for you haven't gone the way I would have liked. And I may be disappointed that your mom's wishes for you didn't all happen. I regret that I can't keep you safe. But I have never, and will never, be disappointed in you. Ever. Do you understand me?"

Jamie hedged a smile. "Yes sir."

"You saved your partner's life today," Frank said. "And your own. I couldn't be prouder of you, Jamie."

"Thanks, Dad."

Frank lingered in the moment for a second longer, then squeezed his son's hand a final time. "Let's get back in there before they send a search party, huh?"

In the living room, Linda looked up as Frank and Jamie reentered, Frank's arm draped reassuringly over his youngest son's shoulders. "Hey, Jamie," she called, sliding over on the couch. "Come sit next to your brother."

Danny looked over. "Yeah, c'mere, kid," he said, patting the cushion next to him. "You've had a big day. You deserve a comfy seat."

Jamie hesitated. "You're not going to give me a noogie or something, are you?"

"Aw, c'mon," Danny protested. "Get over here, Jamie. You've been a little brother for too long."

Jamie laughed at that and stepped around the cushions on the floor, easing himself gingerly down. Danny studied him critically. "How you feeling?"

"A little sore," he admitted.

"And the head?"

He smiled ruefully, closing his eyes. "Yeah, it's killing me."

"Did you take anything for it?"

Across the room, Erin put her stocking feet up on the couch, crossing them at the ankle. "Yes, alcohol and painkillers," she said, raising her glass. "Fabulous combination."

"Never mind that," Danny said dismissively. "I've got the perfect cure. C'mon, kid, lean on me."

Jamie's eyes opened, and he actually leaned a fraction away. "What?"

"Like we did when we were kids. You remember."

"We were never kids at the same time. When you were seventeen, I was six," Jamie sighed. "You're thinking of Joe, not me."

"Hey, I know that," he protested. "You think I don't remember how old you are? You think I don't remember having my baby brother tagging along, trying to keep up with Joe and me on that old tricycle of yours?"

Jamie chuckled. "I definitely don't remember that."

Danny grinned. "Then we need to make up for lost time." With an impossibly gentle touch, he reached behind Jamie and slid his hand around the side of his younger brother's neck, easing Jamie's head to rest easily against his own shoulder. "How about that, huh?" he said softly, as Jamie's head settled quite naturally against him. "I'm a big brother. I told ya I know what I'm doing."

The tension seemed to bleed out of Jamie almost instantly, and he relaxed there against his brother, closing his eyes. And even though Jamie was clearly making no move to be anywhere else but slumped against his brother's side, Danny seemed unable to bring himself to move his hand away from where it rested, gentle and protective, against the back of Jamie's skull.

As the children continued to giggle and laugh on the floor, Erin and Linda exchanged a warm look, and Henry lifted a misty gaze that he would later deny to the mantle, where the sweet faces of Mary, Rose and Joe smiled down upon them.

In the doorway still, Frank took them all in, and for the first time since Kate Walton had caught his eyes that morning, he relaxed.

His family was home.

Thanks for coming along with me on this journey, everyone! If you enjoyed reading this story even half as much as I enjoyed writing it, then it was certainly time well spent. I appreciate all the great feedback, and I have a feeling I'll be seeing you again very soon for another Blue Bloods adventure.

FYI, the story about NYPD Officer Philip Cardillo is a true one. Blue Bloods even filmed the riot scene from "Black and Blue" in the same lobby where Officer Cardillo was shot. You can check out Wikipedia or other online sources for more.

Also, public service announcement - if, like me, you're just waiting for Jamie to get in trouble on his undercover assignments, I have the perfect song to inspire you, particularly if you love Jamie and Danny's dynamic. Check out "Lullaby" from Nickelback's new album, and let your muse spirit you away.

In the meantime, this story is almost-but-not-quite over! A special one-time-only bonus scene is coming up soon for Gymkidz2000, who requested:

Bonus Scene - The car ride when Danny picked Jamie up from the hospital on the way to nab Shawn Hunter and Nathan Bradley. Danny and Jamie locked together in a moving vehicle = fun times!

Okay, that wasn't exactly the prompt as she gave it to me, but that's where I'm going with it. :) Coming soon!

Hope you enjoyed, everyone - and remember, reviews make my geeky day!