Sandburg hesitated before he whispered so low that only I could hear him, "You awake, Jim?" Because I wanted to hear what was going to be said without worrying about them trying to shield me, I didn't answer. "I think he's sleeping right now. He's a little bruised, but he seems to be okay. The same cannot be said of the truck, though."
"That bad, huh?"
"It's totalled. Considering what's left of it, Jim's lucky to be alive. He owes his life to the fact that they used to build them to withstand just about everything."
I winced at that. Oh, not because I was in pain - I walked away from the accident surprisingly with hardly even a scratch. The rescue team that was called to pry me out of what was left of my truck was amazed. They thought for sure I was a goner. I wasn't, but my truck was, hence the wince. This time, it wasn't my fault but when I called my insurance agent, he got this happy tone in his voice. It wasn't until later that I found out his youngest was looking at an expensive college and he and his wife hadn't known how they were going to pay for it. It almost made me laugh - Jim Ellison, vehicle destroyer and college benefactor.
Notice I said almost. Not much makes me laugh nowadays.
Anyway, I tuned back into the conversation below me and was relieved to know I'd only missed the offering and accepting of refreshments and the getting comfortable stage. Since this was the only way I could get my police gossip lately, I didn't want to miss anything.
"The investigation proves the accident was exactly that. The other guy was so hyped on drugs that if he hadn't been killed from the impact, the drugs would have done it within the hour."
Blair sounded a little distressed at the news. "I didn't know there was any doubt that it *was* an accident. Jim's report was pretty straightforward. He was hit and pushed into a bridge support. How could there be any doubt?"
Poor Sandburg. He still wants to be my champion. He thinks he owes me something because of the IAD hearing. I keep trying to tell him it wasn't his fault, but he won't listen. He hasn't been taking care of himself like he should and it shows in his face and his body and worse, his eyes. I've tried everything I know to assure him he did nothing wrong, but it's almost impossible trying to get something through his head when he's convinced otherwise.
"Calm down, Blair. There were just some questions raised about the whole situation so soon after everything went down. Everyone in Major Crimes knew the deal - we just had to prove it."
"But with everything Jim's done for Cascade, why did it need proving?"
See what I mean. With his extreme belief that he single-handedly destroyed my career with his testimony, he also refuses to see me as anything other than "The Great Sentinel Who Can Do No Wrong".
Why won't he see what I really am - a cop killer.
No, Simon isn't dead. Or at least he wasn't the last time Joel dropped by. Yeah, we've been relegated to getting our news second hand. I can't call the hospital for any updates and Blair refuses to on principle.
Sandburg took a personal leave from the department after the hearing to be here for me, so our information is limited to whichever one of the guys can make it over to catch us up. I've never really thought about what it meant to be in the loop; if I needed information, I got it with the snap of my fingers. Now, I can understand and appreciate what I've lost and it's almost scary.
But, back to why I consider myself a cop killer. The last time Joel was here, he told us that Simon's doctors felt he was finally coming out of the coma. For just a second, I thought there might be hope. Then, Joel told us the docs had pretty much given Simon a less than thirty percent chance of walking again and they had completely written off on him ever returning to police work.
I knew right then and there that I had killed him. Not in body, but in soul - in spirit. Simon Banks was a cop through and through and a damn good one at that, and I had taken that away from him with one careless bullet. I had killed him as surely as if I had aimed directly for his heart or his head.
Sandburg's, "'You're kidding me, right?!'" returned my thoughts back to the conversation below. It was easier to listen to them than dwell on my unpardonable action.
"Nope, I'm not." Joel sounded almost joyous. It sounded weird to me. I guess I hadn't heard joy in a long time. "Rhonda was pissed off to the extreme when she found out her report to the administrative support supervisor had been *stolen* by Valdez and used against Jim at his hearing. She tracked down the thief and then filed a *formal* complaint with the Commissioner against both of them."
"So, what you're saying is she didn't betray Jim?"
"Not at all. In fact, she almost went after all of us when we confronted her about it when she got back."
"Back?"
"Yeah, it would seem it was all part of Valdez' plan. His flunky had let him know that Rhonda had turned in her report in a hurry to the supervisor and requested a few days off to go see about her mother in Oregon. The flunky had originally tipped Valdez off about the incident report when Rhonda called up to see if she needed to file one. Valdez set up the hearing during a time when he knew she wouldn't be there to say anything. What he didn't count on was her sense of justice and her overactive need for vengeance." Joel chuckled, "Hell hath no fury like Rhonda scorned."
"Wait a minute, Joel. Go back a little bit. Why'd she need to file an incident report in the first place?"
"You know the rules, Sandburg. Being off these last few weeks couldn't have erased everything you learned in the academy already.
"Because she forgot to close the connection on her end, she overheard what could be considered a 'for your ears only' conversation. The rules state, she has to write down what led to her overhearing as well as what she heard and turn it into the head of admin support. It's almost the same thing as following the chain of evidence. Say you guys had been discussing an informant's tip on a top secret drug bust. According to policy, any personnel outside of the people assigned to the bust would be required to turn in an incident report if they overheard any of the details."
Blair released a sigh of relief. "I should have known Rhonda wouldn't have turned on Jim - she adores him. Guess I owe her an apology and a dozen roses. I've sort of been cursing her name as well as her being born since I heard her report."
For the first time in a long time, I smiled. I didn't realise how much it hurt that Rhonda had basically given IAD my head on a platter. I knew she was devoted to Simon and I just figured she wanted me to pay for what I had done to him. I'm glad I was wrong. Looks like she'll be getting two dozen roses.
"You owe her for a lot more than you think. Her complaint must have been exactly what someone high up was waiting for. It kicked off this massive investigation into *all* of Valdez' cases."
Sandburg couldn't hide the note of hope that crept into his voice. "All?"
If it was possible to "hear" a smile in someone's voice, then that's what I was hearing in Joel's. "*All*, Blair."
"And?"
"And, Jim still has to see the city shrink, but it's for mandatory counselling stemming from a shooting, not for a psyche eval. Because of the inappropriateness of Valdez' actions during this case, the tribunal was forced to overturn Jim's verdict. They had to drop the suspension with a special note of apology in his file as well as back pay."
If I had been asleep, Blair's whoop of joy would have definitely awakened me. "Yes! I knew something was off. I should have known that bastard had played dirty. Tell me they're gonna nail Valdez' ass to the wall, Joel. Tell me and make my night complete."
"Consider him nailed, my friend."
"You hear that, Jim. You've been vindicated. The asshole went down and he took his whole damn case with him." Guess I didn't fool him after all. "Stop hiding and get down here. We've got some celebrating to do."
Though I was happy to hear that Valdez was gonna pay big time for what he'd done to Rhonda and Blair, I couldn't really feel any happiness for myself. I'd still pulled the trigger and essentially killed one of my best friends. Yeah, my career had been given back to me, but it meant nothing to me in light of what I'd done.
I made my way down the stairs slowly and looked into the ecstatic eyes of my friends. Knowing that they were expecting to see a man empowered by his vindication, I put on contented face. It almost killed me.
"Hey, Joel. Nice to see you and thanks for the news." I worked hard to make my smile look normal. "It means a lot that you've supported me," It didn't take a genius to see how this news was going a long way in healing Blair's wounds, " us from the beginning." I held out my hand and Joel pretended not to see it shake as he grabbed it and encompassed it in both of his.
"Not a problem, my friend. In fact, it was the one of the easiest things I've ever done." He moved one of his hands up to my shoulder and squeezed. "But, I haven't told you all of my news."
"You mean there's more?" Blair asked. Damn, this was exactly what the kid needed - his bounce was back. No, not the literal bouncing like a bunny, but more a vibration that signalled Sandburg was alive. It had been gone since this horrible case had started. I'd missed that.
"Yep. Simon's awake."
The room spun before my eyes and all of the breath left my body at his words. I think I'd actually convinced myself that Simon wasn't going to wake up. I mean, if I had the prospects he did, I wouldn't.
Joel and Blair must have been monitoring me because before I knew it, I was on the couch with my head between my legs. "Take deep breaths, Jim. Deep breaths, man."
I'm not sure how much time passed, but it took me a while for the room to stop spinning enough for me to look back at Joel. "Is he Do they know if How is he?"
"Well, he's still pretty groggy - he's only been awake a few days." Joel's smile reappeared and replaced the look of concern he'd had when I nearly passed out. "He recognises people and where he is and he asked one of the nurses yesterday when he could have a cigar. So, we're taking it as a pretty good sign."
I had to know even though his answer would put me in Hell, "Has he has he asked about me?"
Joel looked at me with such compassion that I knew the answer. What was I thinking - of course he hadn't. Why would Simon even care? "Everyday, Jim. He doesn't understand why you're not there."
What? I must have heard wrong. Simon couldn't want me there, not after what I'd done. I'd destroyed his life. How could he want to see me after that? "He doesn't know, does he? About the prognosis?"
"He knows. The doctors spent a good part of the last few days running tests and they told him their thoughts on the results this morning."
"And he *still* wants to see me?"
"More than ever." I watched Joel's face cloud over and I could feel the door slamming in my face. "Daryl still has the restriction on for right now, but as soon as the docs feel that Simon is stronger, it's coming off."
Blair, forever my defender, wasn't too happy to hear about the ban continuing. "What is his problem? It was an accident - a tragic one, but an accident."
I didn't have to hear Joel's response because I knew that answer. Daryl saw me for what I was. He couldn't take the chance that I'd completely destroy his father. I couldn't blame the kid for that.
"Blair, you have to understand. Simon's all Daryl has now - you know Joan practically disowned him when he joined the academy. She's walled herself away from her son hoping that if something happens to him, it won't hurt her so bad." Joel took a deep breath and released it on a heavy sigh. "Simon stepped up and became the centre of Daryl's universe and they've grown closer than even Simon ever hoped. When his dad almost died, Daryl felt like his world was collapsing and when he heard the story Valdez portrayed, he directed all his fear and anger at Jim." Another squeeze of my shoulder. "He's just hurting right now, Jim. He's not really thinking."
Why was he telling me this? I understood where Daryl was coming from. His denying me access to his dad was nothing less than I deserved. To be honest, I'd expected more - a lawyer knocking at my door a bullet to the heart.
I'd been totally surprised when he'd stopped at the restriction. If it had been me in his place, I'm not sure I would have.
Now, it seemed like yet another Banks man was throwing me for a loop. I couldn't believe that Simon wanted to see me.
I didn't want to believe Simon wanted to see me.
Why would he want to?
Obviously, I was wrong.
From what Megan told Blair, Daryl wasn't too happy with his father's wanting to see me and let him know it in no uncertain terms. In the hopes of helping Simon see reason, he even told him all about what came out at the hearing. Supposedly, Simon took it all in stride and just shrugged it off. That was *not* the reaction Daryl was expecting and he voiced his displeasure rather loudly then Simon joined in, weakly, but he gave as good as he got. If Joel and H hadn't been there, it probably would have grown into something really bad and nasty. They both might have said something unforgivable. Considering I was the reason behind the argument, that would have been more of a tragedy.
Needless to say, I'm still not the kid's favourite person. That's one wound I don't expect to heal any time soon.
Not that I'm expecting *any* of them to heal - at least none of the mental ones. There is hope for the physical ones - not much, but some. Even though I realise my prayers mean nothing in this situation, I can't stop praying that the doctors are wrong. I'd give anything for them to be wrong.
Those are the thoughts that take me up to the ICU floor. Regular bright rays of sunshine, huh? As I step off the elevator, my eyes unconsciously drift to the far wall in the waiting room and my memory reminds me of that time not so long ago when I felt so alone - so broken.
I'm was too close to that. Being back at work surrounded by my friends had helped, but I couldn't shake the feelings that it was all wrong. That I didn't deserve to be back. That it wasn't right that my future was clear when Simon's was so uncertain.
It took everything in me to get myself back in control. I shook my head and braced my shoulders - Simon didn't need to see me in mourning for him. He needed to see strength so that he would know I would be there to help him when he needed it. If he wanted it.
I let my eyes drift down the hall and focused on the door that had haunted me for weeks. It still looked the same - quiet and forbidding, but not as horrible as it had appeared in my nightmares. Still apprehensive of the welcome I might receive, I resumed my trek down to that room - Simon's room - the one I'd put him in.
As I passed the nurses' station, I thought I heard someone call my name, but it wasn't until a small hand grasped my arm that I stopped, fearful of what I'd hear.
"Detective Ellison?"
*Oh God, no.*
"Yes."
"I'm sorry, but you can't go in."
*I knew this was too good to be true! Daryl must have gotten to his father. He must have convinced him not to see me.*
"Why? Did he change his mind?"
*I know why. He doesn't want to see me. He blames me for all of this. He knows it's my fault he's lost so much.*
It was like history was repeating itself. It was the exact same nurse as before and she seemed very nervous, avoiding my eyes. I could tell she really hated this kind of thing. *I'm sorry to put you through this again. I should have known this wouldn't happen. I destroyed Simon's life. Why would he want to see me?* "No, not that I know of." She gave me a hesitant smile and squeezed the arm she still grasped.
"Then Why? I don't understand."
"Captain Banks isn't on this floor any longer. He's doing so much better, they moved him to Intermediate Care." Another squeeze of my arm had me looking into green eyes filled with remorse. "I'm really sorry about last time. I didn't have a choice. When a patient can't speak for himself, we *have* to defer to the family's wishes - no matter how much we hate it. I hope you won't hold it against me."
My mind was still reeling from my temporary reprieve and at first, I couldn't respond. I must have finally answered her correctly, though I can't remember, because she gave me another smile and returned to her place behind the desk.
Trying not to think, I headed back to the elevator and went up a couple of floors. I'd been to this hospital enough visiting various officers and occasionally Sandburg to know where IMC was and I was grateful for that because my brain had shut down. I'd been so sure that all of this was for nothing - that he wouldn't want to see me. Now, I guess I was in shock.
The elevator dinged and stopped, shaking me out of my fugue. I walked over to the smiling, expectant nurse and wondered why they never looked this happy when I was in the hospital. "Uh, hello. I'm looking for Captain Simon Banks' room."
"Boy, he must be a really great captain. He's had a lot of visitors."
I couldn't help it - her mood was infectious. So, I smiled. "Yeah, he's a pretty good boss."
"And a pretty nice person. Even when he's in pain, he's never impolite. He hasn't been here long, but all the nurses adore him."
My smile faltered and I could feel myself paling when she mentioned Simon being in pain. I didn't want to think that he was still hurting. "Do you know if anyone's in with him now?"
"I was just in there checking his vitals and he was resting. No one's been in for about an hour." She stood and pointed down the hall. "Just walk right down there and make a left. His room is the first one on the right." She winked at me. "You can't miss it. It's the only one with a crayon-coloured badge on the door."
I thanked her and then followed her directions. Sure enough, there was gold and silver coloured badge there. I recognised the artistry as coming from Elise Taggert - Joel's little girl, age 6. Simon had always been one of her favourites and the love she had for him clearly shown in her art. I stood there admiring the artwork for far longer than it warranted. I knew I was stalling. I was scared of what I'd see when I walked into that room and I was terrified of what Simon might say.
With a soft knock, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, only releasing it when I heard a soft, "Come in."
I opened the door and walked in, shaking like a man going into first combat. My eyes quickly adjusted to the muted light in the room and I was able to focus on Simon instantly. Oh God. My brain was refusing to accept what it was seeing. It couldn't believe they'd taken him from ICU looking like this.
"I look worse than I actually am," his raspy voice commented as he raised the bed with the control. "Isn't it amazing what the Coma Diet can do? I'd been trying to lose about fifteen pounds with no luck, but it's no longer a problem."
"How can you joke about this?" It was unbelievable. Simon looked gaunt frail. He'd not only lost the fifteen, but it looked like he'd lost about thirty more. His skin almost hung off of him and he was still hooked up to a wide assortment of flashing and noisy machines. I'd never seen him look so vulnerable before. I didn't like how it made me feel.
"Jim, you can sit down, you know? Nobody's gonna throw you out."
Again, I couldn't help myself. "They should."
Simon took a very painful and not quite so deep breath and then nailed me with his eyes. "Ellison, sit down!"
Hearing the command, even in his weakened voice, my military training had me jumping to find a chair and sitting in a matter of seconds. I took that time to break the link his eyes had established and as I sat, I refused to look at him. "How are you doing, Sir?"
"Better, now that you're finally here." My eyes flew up to his face at the statement and no matter how much I wanted them to lower, I knew they were there to stay. "What? I've been wanting to talk to you since I awakened. Unfortunately, I had a tube shoved down my throat and couldn't ask for you." He closed his eyes and his face contorted into what I thought was pain. I was surprised when they reopened and looked at me with regret. "I owe you an apology - for Daryl and what happened with the hearing."
Oh, whoa. This is wrong. It should be me apologising to him, not the other way around. He didn't owe me anything - I owed him everything.
"Why do you think that?" He asked.
It took me a while to figure out I must have said what was going through my mind out loud. "Maybe because it's true. You don't owe me anything, Simon. You were the one who was wronged."
"You know, if it didn't hurt so much to laugh right now, I would be all over this bed." He sighed. "It's nice to know some things like the Ellison Guilt Factor never change."
"And in this instance it should be working overtime." I couldn't believe what was going on here. I'd set myself up for recriminations and instead I was getting apologies. "Simon, I don't know what kind of drugs they have you on, but I *shot* you. *I'm* the reason you're hurting right now. It's *my* fault that you might not ever " I couldn't finish that thought.
"What? That I might not ever walk again? That I might not be able to go back to Major Crimes?" Simon shook his head and glared at me. "I have one word for you, Detective: bullshit."
Okay, for a minute I thought about looking around for Blair because I was sure I'd entered the Sandburg Zone, but I knew he wasn't here. There had to be some other explanation for this weirdness, but I had no clue what it could be. "I don't understand."
"That much is obvious. You must really not think much of me if you believe that crap the doctors have been spewing. I'm made of tougher stuff than they could ever imagine."
"Simon, I don't think *you* grasp just how serious this is. They had to basically put your insides back *together*. My bullet did so much damage that they almost had you tagged for the morgue." I was shaking my head in confusion. "This is bad, sir. Really bad."
"Do I look stupid now on top of frail and weak? You think I haven't grasped that this was serious? I think I understood that as soon as I realised I had no feeling from the waist down." He paused for a moment to catch his breath. "But, it hasn't stopped me from knowing this is only temporary. It hasn't stopped me from knowing me - what makes me who I am. I don't care what the doctors say - I'll be back behind my desk waiting to kick your ass for another of your dumb stunts before the year is over." Simon smirked at me. "It's gonna take me a while and it's gonna be a lot of work, but you can count on that more than you can your wrecking another truck."
There was that pesky feeling again. Hope. It had sprung up during Simon's little monologue and it was trying it's best to grow. I didn't want it to, but it was getting harder to keep it down. "Someone told you about that?"
The man actually ignored the pain and let out a nasty little snort. "Rafe couldn't wait to tell me you'd wrecked another one."
"It wasn't my fault this time. Somebody hit me and pushed me into that support."
Simon grew serious so quick that I almost missed it. "You don't know how glad I was to hear that. I don't think I could have forgiven myself if there had been any doubt."
I lost the battle with hope and it flared. "Simon, ?"
"Why are you so surprised that it would bother me if you had tried to take your life because of this?"
"Probably because I do-don't think I deserve it. I ran into that warehouse without any thought of where you were or if you had on your vest. I fired first never thinking about your position." My voice dropped down to a whisper. "I don't *deserve* it, Simon."
"That's where you're wrong, my friend. You refuse to see exactly why I was out there with you. Why I was out there even though I had a bad feeling about the whole thing."
"You knew I was stupid enough to go against you and go there anyway. You were being a good commanding officer and trying to reign me in before I got myself or Sandburg killed."
He shook his head. "No, I was being your friend and wanting to make sure your back was covered in every way. I didn't care about Peterman or him getting away. I was there because I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Oh God. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart and the hope was starting to die back down. "If this is supposed to make me feel better, Simon, it's not. I'm feeling like I let you down more than ever."
Weaker than a kitten instead of the bear I was used to, Simon lifted his hand off the bed and lowered it onto one of mine. "You didn't let me down, Jim. I was there because I wanted to be there. I didn't put on the vest because when I saw you and Sandburg running inside, I didn't have time. I knew the procedure, but that meant nothing compared to the possibility of losing one of my best friends. I knew you needed backup and I was it. " He looked at me hard, willing me to listen him - to believe him. "Jim, it was a bad set-up and there was nothing you could have done about it. It *wasn't* your fault, my friend. *None* of this was your fault."
I closed my eyes at his words because a small part of me didn't want to hear them - didn't want to believe them. But the largest part of me needed to hear them - almost craved them - and that was the part that had me turning my hand in his and grabbing hold of him like he was some type of lifeline.
And, when I finally opened my eyes, there was hope and I knew it was enough to get us through this.
Alle
See, I told you I wasn't so bad. I actually gave you guys a happy resolution. //Hahahahahahahahahaha!//