an: not my characters, just playing with them.

Chapter four

The black night sky, not indicating anymore how late it was. It could be hours that passed already. The orange lights of the ambulance, replaced by the flickering blue of the police cars. Red tape. Guys in suits with small notebooks.

They were drained, emotional and physical. Being the first ones on scene, they'd been drilled by Internal Affairs. Who said what? Who fired when? All being separated from one another.

It was too much. Two police officers were shot. One killed, the other.. they didn't even know as no one answered their questions. They'd been shot at. Sitting ducks, until the shooting ceased.

One of them wounded. They weren't even sure how bad that was, because of Internal Affairs separating them all. Medics that arrived on the third ambulance taking over. That was the last glance they had exchanged. How long ago was that? Sharon was done with the questions. She answered them twice already. What more did they want?

Sharon chew on her lower lip, while she rubbed her forehead, with her blood stained fingers. They trembled lightly and she knew that if this would continue any longer, she'd be on the verge of tears. Why wouldn't they let this go? They had answered everything already. They could do this later. They shouldn't be there. They should be at the hospital. He'd insisted the bullet hadn't done any harm. That cheeky grin on his face, as she put it in her lap, shushing him, comforting him. No matter how many times he told them he was fine, all she could think of was the blood and his pale face. He was in the hospital now and they didn't even know how he was doing. They wouldn't answer their questions.

The flash lights of the press hurt her burning eyes. They probably knew even more than they did. The events of the evening taking its toll on her. Tears already pinching her eyes. One moment they had been celebrating her promotion, the next... all hell broke lose.

SASASASASASASASASASASASAAASASASASAAAAASASASASASASASASA

Diane stared at the screen, remote control in her trembling hands, her heart beating so loud it became hard to make sense of the reporter. Officer involved shooting. One dead. Two wounded. How long before they would come to your doorstep? Would you hear it on the news sooner?

Mark touched her shoulders, flattening his hands, warmth spreading through her body. Gently kneading the tense muscles. He knew what his wife was afraid of. It wasn't like it couldn't happen. They'd been there once already. Sharon fighting for her life in the ICU. She must have had an angel watching over her back then, she had survived.

Last time, Mark had been in the hospital, when she was brought in. They had known fast. Antagonizing hours ahead of them.

"They would have called me, Diane."

Not when their daughter was the deceased officer in question.

"Sweetheart, what would Sharon do in a bar, hm? "

"It's a cops bar."

"Still…."

"I don't know, celebrate her promotion. Don't they do those sort of things?"

"Promotion?"

A weak smile covered her lips. "They promoted her to Detective."

"Already?"

Diane nodded, with the gleam of a proud mother, in her eyes. She knew the job was dangerous, but it made Sharon happy.

Mark brief kissed the top of her head. "She's okay…"

She had to be. The last time they spoke it had been in a argument. He couldn't think about never holding her in his arms again, tell her he was sorry, that he loved her. She could not be dead.

"Mark, I just have the feeling she was there."

"Sweetheart, you're making yourself crazy over thinking."

"She would have called, Mark. If she was okay she would have called. She'd know I'd worry. Can't you go to the hospital, see what you can find out?"

"Sweetheart, I don't want to leave you alone."

"In case they ring our doorbell and tell me she's dead, right?"

"No. Our daughter is not dead, okay? We'll both go to the hospital, see what we can find out."

Mark took her hand, squeezed it lightly, before he kissed it.

SASASASASASASASASASASASASASASASASASASASAASAS

Hamilton was outraged. How much longer would it take? One of their own was at the hospital. They should be over there, instead of answering those ridiculous questions over and over again. With his hands in his pockets he walked over to the one questioning Elliot. Walking closer he saw the strain in her eyes. If he wouldn't know better he'd say she was on the verge of tears. It was always a wakeup call when a police officer was shot. Suddenly you would realize it could be you next. Elliot had even been in the middle of the second round of fire.

"I already told you that…"

Hamilton heard her voice quiver.

"Tell me again."

"Enough."

Sharon looked at Hamilton's stern face. He squared his chest. His eyes daring the man to continue.

"I will take my people to the hospital. If you want to talk to them, tomorrow is another day."

"Sir, procedure says we question all the officers involved, preferably on scene."

"And you have. You have asked them your questions and they all have been more than cooperative."

Well,… most of them, as they heard the angry voice echoing from the walls in the alley.

"I already spelled it out to you morons. I was the one trying to keep one of our own alive and then I was shot at. I'm lucky to be standing here without a puncture wound somewhere in my body."

Hamilton smiled at Sharon, before he looked at the man from Internal Affairs.

"Now I need to take her with me to make sure your colleague there will stay in one piece."

Hamilton cupped her elbow with his hand and guided her with him. Even in the blue lighting, they could see his face was an angry red.

"I need you to calm down. Commander, it looks like your Detective here has a serious anger management problem."

Sharon saw just by watching his body language, his muscles flexing in the back, that he was about to explode. Gently touching the crook of his elbow. He whirls around at her touch, his anger disappearing as he looks in her eyes.

The moment he looked at her, he saw the strain in her eyes. Tears threatened to fill them. His heartbeat slowed. His anger gone. She didn't need him held up longer by IA, she needed him. He didn't believe he'd ever seen her this upset before, at work.

She had yelled at him to get down. The fear and panic in her voice still made his heart beat faster. His heart pounding, while the gunshots kept ringing through the air, knowing exactly how exposed she was, they all had been .

Everything had seemed to go so fast. The minutes before went by in slow motion, but after the gunshots stopped all hell broke loose. Although he had heard Cohen's curse, his eyes had sought out Sharon's first. He had to know she was okay, taking cover and helping Cohen had come second. It had been reassuring to have her near, helping Cohen together, even forgiving him for that cheeky grin on his face, when he realized his head lay in Sharon's lap.

It came too close. Cohen was one of them. It wasn't like they didn't know how dangerous their profession was. Both were shot before. This had seemed like an execution though. This wasn't shot at in the line of duty. They'd been targets . Sharon took it hard. Maybe it was them being in a relationship now, her worries for him. The thought of losing him.

Andy reached out, his hand touching her cheek, totally ignoring the IA guy behind them. He didn't have to ask her, whether she was okay. Andy saw it in her eyes. "It will be okay, hon."

She stepped closer. Whispering as she only wanted him to hear. "I'm worried about Cohen."

"He'll be fine. You saw the way he looked up at you. No need to revive him anymore."

A smile cracked her lips Andy squeezed her cheek, smiling. "That's more like it."

Hamilton interrupted the moment. "I'll take my people to the hospital."

"Fine, the ones who haven't discharged their weapon."

"Flynn, you take Elliot? I'll take Zygerski."

"Yes, Sir."

Andy put his hand on the small of her back, giving the IA guy a look while they passed.

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Sharon could feel the eyes burn at her. The hospital staff, who clearly remembered them as the investigating officers of one of their previous cases. There were also the many police officers, who had gathered around in the lobby. That's what you did. You'd wait, show the family your support, donate blood. And clearly it was a male cops thing as they all looked at her. Reassuring Andy stroke her back, walking on until they found their Commander.

"Any word?"

"He's still in surgery."

It wasn't the news they were hoping for, but it didn't have to be necessarily bad.

"What about the other officer?"

Hamilton looked down. Bad news. "They say he was in a very bad shape when he came here. Apparently the bullet that hit Cohen exited and entered him as well. His prospects aren't good."

Sharon swallowed, allowing Andy to kiss the side of her face. This was hitting her hard, making her more emotional than normal.

Andy was glad she let him comfort her. He needed to feel her, love her. It had been such a close call, for both of them. The distance between Cohen and him nothing more than a few inches.

"Hon, I need to call my parents. Let them know I'm okay. You won't believe how fast this news travels, even to New York."

"Of course." She smiled. "Send them my love too."

"Sure."

"I better call my mom as well."

Andy nodded.

"Be right back."

She blushed a bit as she caught Hamilton's stare.

"You're good for him. He changed a one hundred and eighty degrees."

"I don't know about that. He's always been this Andy."

"Hm, you bring him to the surface, though."

Mark saw her standing from afar, her hair color standing out in the crowd. Working his way through the many police officers. Diane was still at the ER, she had to check that out first. When he saw the first uniform, he simply followed him.

"Sharon?"

She turned around as she heard her father's voice. His eyes looked panicked.

"Daddy.."

They hadn't been on speaking terms lately, but it passed her lips before she knew it. He looked her over, to make sure she was really okay. His worry quick fading, frustration taking over.

"Why didn't you call that you were okay? Do you have any idea how frightened we've been? We saw on the news that an officer was killed.. others wounded. "

"I …"

"What did you believe we'd think? Your mom is a mess."

"I…"

"She was convinced something was wrong with you, cause if you were okay you would have called!"

Andy quickened his pace, as he heard the yelling. With the state of mind Sharon was in now, he knew this was too much. "That's enough." His eyes looked stern, locking onto her father's grey blues.

"We worry day in day out, do you even realize that?"

His voice was still harsh, Sharon biting her lip, too choked up to trust herself to speak.

"Hey, I said that was enough."

Diane saw Andy's angry frown, Sharon healthy, but on the verge of tears.

"What's going on?"

Mark looked away. Diane focused on Sharon, her face gentle, happy. "Thank God you are okay. I was so worried about you." Wrapping her arms around her daughter, she just held on very tight.

"I'm sorry…"

Diane backed away, seeing the tears rim her eyes. "Oh sweetie, it's okay.." She wiped a lock of her hair from her forehead, tugging it behind her ear. "Sweetheart, it's okay."

Diane looked over her shoulder at Mark. He felt sorry for letting himself go, she could tell he did. Apparently he'd been a lot more worried than he had led on.

"Your daddy and I were only very worried."

"I just arrived here, we were held on scene to answer question. I couldn't call, I was about to…"

"Sweetheart, you were there?"

Sharon looked down at her blood stained hands. Cohen's blood. It could have been Andy's.

Diane followed her gaze and saw her bloodstained hands, trembling. Mark saw it too. Instantly worried. He reached out for her hand.

"You're sure you're okay?"

Sharon pulled away from his hand. Pain in her eyes. Mark had been too harsh with her. This was not the way to make things up with her.

Diane hadn't missed her daughter's reaction either. Andy's protective stance said enough as well. She approached Sharon, trying to get her attention back.

"Were either of you injured in a way?"

Saron shook her head. Not finding her voice.

"One of our colleagues." Andy neglected to tell them Sharon and he could have just as easy been hit.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"I don't know. He was conscious afterwards."

"Hit in his shoulder, clear through."

"They won't tell us more than that he is in surgery."

Diane looked at Mark, a plea in her eyes, as she could tell how worried their daughter was about her colleague.

"What's his name?" Her father's voice was warm and calm now.

"Cohen."

He nodded and walked away. Diane pulled Sharon back in her arms, feeling her trembling. She wondered whether it was because of what she went through or Marks's outburst, maybe both.

Sharon didn't care that the other officers might think of her, as a girl needing her mom so bad, but she couldn't stop holding on to her. Burying her face in the crook of her mom's neck. Taking in the familiar scent of her perfume. The fragrance of lavender and roses calmed her. Reminded her of the time when she was little and crawled on her mom's lap, seeking her warmth, comfort, safety. She was overwhelmed by all kinds of emotions, she couldn't place.

Sharon held on to her for dear life. The way she used to after one of those horrific nightmares she used to have. Her mom stroke her hair. Making sounds of comfort. Diane's eyes travelled towards Andy. His eyes looked painful. Hovering as close as he could, in case Sharon needed him. He looked a bit confused as well and if she was honest, so was she. Diane hadn't expected Sharon to react like this. Not in front of her male colleagues.

Wiping some tears from her cheek, Sharon backed away blushing.

"I don't know what got in to me."

"That's alright, sweetie."

Diane smiles as she touched her cheek. Sharon really had no idea what got into her, it was like the flood gates had opened and she couldn't' close them anymore. She didn't even know why she was crying. Cohen would be alright. It could have been worse. It all could have been so much worse.

Andy wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her real close, kissing the back of her head.

"Everything's gonna be fine, hon."

Mark saw Sharon enveloped in Andy's arms. Strong broad arms, gently rocking her. His lips kissing her hair, mumbling soothing words. Maybe it was the first time it actually dawned on him that Andy Flynn was there to stay. They were a couple. He tried to remember a time when Sharon had been that close to Jack. Diane reminded him before, that he hadn't liked Jack in the beginning either. Maybe it was time he would give Andy Flynn the benefit of a doubt. If only Sharon would talk to him.

"Your colleague is recovering from surgery. Doing as well as can be expected."

"So he will be okay?"

"It's expected he'll make a full recovery."

With a smile on her face Sharon turned towards Andy. He smiled as well. It was good news.

"Told you that you revived him."

Shaking her head, Sharon allowed her forehead to rest on his chest. It moved from chuckling as well, eager to wrap his arms around her again. His hand lazily stroking her neck.

Diane leaned into Mark, glad to see their daughter relieved. Andy seemed good for her. Their interaction so natural, instinctive. They knew exactly what the other needed. Her happy thoughts were interrupted when she heard a woman cry out. All turned towards the sound. A young woman in tears, held up on her feet by two police officers.

Sharon's hand clutched Andy's shirt. Her mind wandering off to a dark place. A place where she would be in that woman's shoes. Where she would hear her loved one had died, killed by the bullet of some psychopath. Her heart clenched by the idea of having to go on without Andy. Feeling his cold skin, no fluttering heartbeat within his chest, the flutter, which soothed her so many times.

Andy closed his eyes, pulling Sharon tighter against his chest. Being grateful he had her in his arms safe and sound. It could have ended a lot different today. Both of them could be in that woman's position. They came close, too close, but that was their job. He'd once seen her shot, because of his own stupidity. He remembered the fear, the desperation, the guilt. He could only hope he'd never have to go through that again.