Misconceptions pt. 26

Michael watched a young girl in her twenties jog past his car in a tiny little outfit. She was the only thing to see at this hour, and that was okay by him. Her beagle was keeping up with her pace and wagging his tail as they followed the sidewalk down the road and around the corner. He yawned, glancing up at the fire escape outside of Balsom's apartment. "Rogers, anything?" he asked into his radio, already knowing the answer.

"Nothing Lieutenant."

He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. The passenger door opened, and he saw his partner rejoin him. He automatically took the coffee cup that was offered to him, and then stared at the apartment again.

"So are we going to talk about this?" Jason asked, blowing on his piping hot caffeine.

"No."

He shook his head and chanced a sip, hissing when it burned his lips and tongue. "Come on, Mike. What the hell are we doing out here?"

He focussed on his friend. "This is a stakeout. We're staking out."

Cameron frowned. "I'm at a loss here, man, I really am." He shifted his body so that he could look directly into the blue eyes that were staring back hard. "You are the most by-the-book, level-headed cop I've ever worked with, and now suddenly, your brother rolls into town and you're eating up one lame story after another." The air in the vehicle felt as though it were thickening with every new tick of the clock. "What the hell are we doing here, Mike?"

Michael bit his lip, trying to keep his anger in check. "This is John's case, so we're following orders. He thinks Balsom might lead us to Natalie."

Jason couldn't believe this change. "You don't believe one word that just came out of your mouth." He felt sick to his stomach. "So this is how it's going to be? He's family, so we just turn the other way while he races off to his girlfriend?"

His heart was thundering. "He's at the bait shop." Mike licked his lips. "He's with the computer."

Detective Cameron turned around sharply and stared at the building that housed the boy. "He's not at the docks, but you've known that. You knew it before we even left the station." His hand ran through his hair roughly.

"Did you check up on him?"

"I thought one of us should play cop," Jason spat, bitterly. This wasn't going to work. He couldn't just pretend that everything was as it seemed, not even for his best friend. He found the watchful eyes of his partner. "I called and talked to Agent Rowlands. She's working the computer with the two geeks. McBain is nowhere to be found," he blew out a quick breath, "and that's because he's with Buchanan while we're sitting on our collective asses. He's using Balsom as a decoy."

Michael didn't know what to say? How to respond? He knew that was the truth, but he also knew it was for the greater good. His brother was trying to help her and prove her innocence, and he was walking a tightrope to do it. So he would help him out. Even if it meant turning a blind eye for a short while. Even if it meant losing the trust of his best and closest friend. "Balsom could lead us to the girl, so we're going to sit here and wait, Cam."

The radio crackled, cutting through the tension. They both stared at the dash. Dispatch announced a call at the train station. Someone fitting Buchanan's description was seen in the railyards.

Mike looked up, finding a stern set of eyes on him, waiting. He didn't want to go, but maybe John wasn't there? Maybe she wasn't even there? He closed his eyes and then nodded quickly, putting the car in drive. Like it or not it was his job to check it out. He just hoped that his brother would be long gone before they arrived.

John had to be seeing things? He was frozen, staring at Natalie as she stood in the train car with a gun in her hand and a body on the floor. He saw her shaking her head with tears streaming down her pale cheeks. She was in shock. His legs somehow managed to move closer, when the sound of something hitting the dirt caught his attention. He quickly ducked, seeing a set of legs dressed in the familiar blue pants of the security uniform. Whoever it was, they were running away and a huge part of him wanted to follow, but the sound of his name kept him from leaving. He wasn't going to leave her again.

"John?" she repeated, slowly finding the voice that vanished for a short time. What was happening? Her eyes dropped to the man on the floor of the car. He was bleeding. He was dying. "John!" she shouted, finally able to move. She went to the man and put a hand on his stomach, pressing with all her strength. He groaned out and her heart stopped beating.

John hopped onto the platform and rushed to her side, reaching out and helping her apply pressure to the gunshot wound. It was a bad one. He scanned the area as best he could, trying like hell to figure out what went down here? "He's losing too much blood," he said, swallowing. This man was LPD. He was a cop.

"I didn't do this," she offered, unable to look into his eyes. She was too scared to see what he was really thinking?

"Natalie, we need to call for help or he's going to die." John reached up with one hand and held his bloody fingers to the base of the man's throat. His pulse was thready and his skin was clammy. He was slipping into shock and was unconscious. "Take my phone and dial 911." He looked at her and finally saw all the raw emotion that was locked inside. "Natalie, do it!" She removed her hands and he winced, feeling more warm blood bubble up from the wound. He pushed harder. Sweat was dripping off of his own brow. He watched a drop fall and absorb into the blue, stained uniform.

Natalie did as she was told. She reached into his pants pocket and found his phone, and opened it to make the call. The officer on the floor screamed, squirming a little beneath John's tight grip, and she wanted to scream too. The call was going through, and then someone was answering.

...Llanview PD, front desk. Officer Tate speaking...

Her mouth wouldn't work. Her brain wouldn't work. If she spoke then they would find her, but if she didn't, he would die. She did the only thing she could do. She held the phone to John's ear and let him do the talking.

"This is Agent McBain. Badge number 78490-1. We have a medical emergency at the Llanview railyards. Requesting immediate back up." He breathed deeply. "Hold on buddy," he mumbled, ignoring the scream that erupted into the air as he continued to press down onto the man's open gut with all his strength. "Get a chopper here ASAP!" he commanded into the phone, breathing hard.

The voice on the other end spewed out facts that she couldn't hear, but she knew that they were coming. She prayed they would get here in time. John's harsh voice snapped her back to reality when he told her to help him. She numbly bent to her knees and put her hands in all the blood. There was so much blood.

"Don't move Natalie or he'll die. Don't move." John stood suddenly, very aware of the fear that was pouring off of her in waves. He left the car quickly, darting down the dirt corridor. Her voice was echoing between the steel walls, asking him where he was going? He ignored her. He had to focus. "You still there?" he asked into the cell, relieved when Tate responded. "Yeah, we're in train car 6340ADC in lane 76. You got that?"

...yeah...

"Hurry up, damn it!" he snapped, as he returned to Natalie. He climbed and went to her, noticing the bloody smudges on her cheeks from rubbing with the back of her hand. He took over, leaning into the man hard and biting down on his lip. The sounds of pain were difficult to hear. "It's okay. They're coming." He saw her nod.

She felt another tear slide over her skin. She couldn't look away from the blood. He was dying right in front of her and it was her fault!

"Natalie?"

She choked on a sob, noticing a wedding ring on his cold finger. "Oh my God, he's married!"

"Buchanan!" John snapped, feeling her slipping away. Her head shot up when he yelled and he met her wide gaze. "Natalie, you need to get out of here now." There wasn't time. "Get out of here. There's a gate about 100 yards to the right." She shook her head vehemently. "Listen, I've got this, okay? There's nothing you can do here. You have to go." He looked out into the yard suddenly, catching the sound of approaching sirens. "Go, Natalie. Go now."

She didn't know what to do? It felt wrong to leave, but he wanted her too and she wanted too. She wanted to get far, far away from here - from the blood. Her legs were wobbly, but she stood and went toward the exit to the train car.

"Go!" he shouted again. His heart was pounding uncontrollably. The man was screaming again, sending eery wails into the eather, and he put all his attention on the wound that pulsed beneath his palms. God, where the hell are they? When he looked up she was nowhere to be found. That was good.

The gun was a few feet away, but even if he wanted to hide it, he couldn't. He couldn't move. And he didn't want to hide it. As much as he needed to protect her, he also needed to know what happened here? There were shouts coming from nearby, but they were confused. Lost amongst the metal graveyard.

"Here!" a voice shouted, before he had a chance too. Her voice. She was leading them over, and he felt nauseous. A myriad of men joined him, promptly pushing him aside as they took over the victim's injuries. He stood in the corner of the car and concentrated on breathing.

After a few moments of observation, he left the EMT's to their jobs and left the car. She was about ten feet away and her hands were handcuffed behind her back. She blinked, staring at him numbly. He heard the sound of his brother's voice carry, and then took another breath. "Don't talk to anyone," he instructed, watching her nod slowly.

The officer was being lifted from the car and rushed toward the train station, where a helicopter was waiting in the parking lot. He would be air-vacced to the hospital. John walked closer to Natalie.

She felt strangely calm now that she was in custody. This is what should have happened from the beginning. Now a man was being rushed away, maybe dying? It was all on her. Her eyes found his bright blue sapphires and the sight made her stronger. "Are you coming with me?" she croaked, softly. She shouldn't be talking to him at all, but she needed him.

"Don't talk to anyone," he said again, desperate for her to understand how important this particular instruction was to her. "I won't be long."

She nodded, licking her lips. He was going to the hospital. She knew that's where he was going, and that was good. Someone should be there.

Michael ran up to his brother, scanning the area quickly. "What's going on, John?" He was covered in a lot of blood and dirt. He stared at Buchanan for a long moment, before refocussing on his family. "John?"

John didn't even know where to begin? "I'll see you at the station, Mike." He needed to know that the officer was going to pull through. He held Natalie's eyes for a moment, wishing like hell that things weren't so screwed up. He reached out and wiped a tear from her soft face. Then he left in a hurry.

He had to figure everything out fast so that he could get over to the station. To where they would be holding and booking her on attempted murder.