Olivia was loathe to find that the name she found in O'Halloran's personel had no identifiers beside it. Just In case of Emergency, contact Molly O'Halloran 555-7213. She had no idea if she was calling Ryan's mother, sister, some random cousin or aunt. She was fairly sure he wasn't married, as the file had him as single, but it could have been a mistake.

As it turned out, Molly was his sister, who listened to what Olivia said, asked what hospital he was taken to and promptly hung up. She couldn't really blame her.

By the time Eliot and Olivia reached the emergency room, the doctors had already hustled Ryan off to surgery. Warner was filling out a series of forms to the best of her ability, looking harried and unhappy, O'Halloran's blood rapidly drying on her clothes and skin.

A passing nurse took one look at Elliot's slice'n'dice chest and heaved a sigh. "This way," she said, beckoning him to follow her to one of the treatment rooms. Without looking, she shoved a clipboard and forms at Olivia.

It was almost two hours later when they made it up to the surgical waiting room, Elliot now wearing the spare scrub shirt an intern had scrounged up for him. Warner and Cragen were both seated in the uncomfortable chairs that seemed to come standard issues in hospitals, as were Huang and a young woman.

If Olivia had been told to pick O'Halloran's sister out of a crowd, she would have had absolutely no problem doing so. Molly, small but strong looking, had the same thick, chestnut brown hair, blue eyes and fair skin as her brother. The chin was softer, more feminine and the nose small and similar. Instead of the lab coat Ryan wore, she was clad in a white chef's jacket and black cargo pants.

There were fresh smears of baby pinks and blues down the front of her jacket and tear tracks on her cheeks. Huang was speaking to her in low reassuring tones and she kept glancing over at Warner, whom Olivia now noted was clad in a full set of scrubs, her bloody clothes nowhere to be seen.

Cragen and Warner approached them as they entered, both faces grave. "He's going to be in surgery for at least four more hours," Warner said, then lowered her voice, "The damage was severe. If he survives, there could be permanent impairment."

Eliot looked like he wanted to punch a wall and Olivia closed her eyes in frustration. Ryan was a forensics guy, a tech. He wasn't supposed to come face to face with the skels they put away. He wasn't supposed to get hurt.

"How the hell did this happen?" Cragen asked, knowing it had been their case and barely able to believe that Stuckey had been the killer. The kid was an ass, but didn't seem to have the resolve to be a murderer.

Before either of them could try to make sense of things, a nurse in surgical scrubs appeared in the doorway. "O'Halloran?" she questioned, in a gentle, calming voice.

"Yes." Molly O'Halloran's reply beat out everyone else's, as she rose from her chair and quickly crossed the room to the nurse. As she padded silently passed them, Olivia took note of a few more details. Instead of clogs or croc's, which a lot of chefs had taken to wearing, she wore a pair of pink Puma sporty ballerina flats with Criss-cross straps and a Durable rubber outsole. There was a matching ribbon securing the end of her long braid between her shoulder blades.

"How's my brother," she asked the nurse, looking up at her with big, tear filled eyes.

The nurse placed a comforting hand on her arm. "The doctor's are doing all they can and he's a fighter, so that's good," she assured the younger woman. "We've had to give him a sign cant amount of blood, and his blood type…."

"AB Negative," Molly blurted. "Same as me. I'll donate."

The nurse nodded. "That's good. The blood bank is a few floors down. I just wanted to let you knew he's holding his own."

From his spot, Cragen said, "The blood bank's probably got a line."

The nurse shook her head sadly. "Not enough people donate, sir."

"We're the NYPD," Cragen insisted. "One of ours ins down, we show up in droves." Then he rolled up his sleeve to display the band aid at the crook of his elbow. "Plenty were there when I left, so if you need a particular blood type, get her in, or ask the officers with that type to move to the front of the line."

The nurse nodded and exited the way she had come.

Molly watched her go, then turned to face Cragen. "I'm gonna go down there," she said quietly. "Please, let me know if something happens."

Cragen nodded and Eliot said, "I'll come with you. Been a while since I gave blood."

"No," Olivia said, pushing him toward the chairs. "You've lost enough blood today. I'll go."

Leaving Elliot to be bullied into the seats by Cragen, Warner and Huang, Olivia led the way to the elevators. At least she'd get out of making a report to the captain for the moment.

TBC

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