Two - ("...and I've been waiting for this moment, all my life...)


      Izzy and Travellyan glanced at each other over their chili-dogs. News traveled fast on the grapevine. Bodelle was recovering in the hospital's secure ward from a gunshot wound. Once he had recovered enough to talk to the cops, he was going to be charged and arraigned for the murder, or attempted murder, of a police detective. If Sonny died, the guy would never see daylight again as a free man. That was only one of the reasons Travellyan had returned to the city.

      He had warned Bodelle that the deal may be a setup simply because he recognized the drill and really was starting to fall for the man. But if he had realized that Sonny was playing under a different name, if he had realized Detective Crockett would be fighting for his life because Bodelle's guys had been nervous that afternoon, he would never have voiced his suspicions. He had not forgotten Sonny. He believed that he owed the detective one. The man had gotten himself back together enough to go back to work, after what Cintaro had put him through, and now this. His heart went out to Ricardo Tubbs.
      "Did you tell them it was me who tipped him off?"
      Izzy frowned, "I told them you'd been seen with Bodelle in Tampa, nothing more. If Crockett doesn't make it, Tubbs is gonna be looking for someone to blame, and you're not gonna be too far from his thoughts."
      A strange smile crossed Travellyan's features, "Are you _trying_ to get me killed?!"
      Izzy's voice dropped to a dangerously low level. "Let me put you straight on a couple of things. Sonny and I go back a long way. There's a reason things are how they are. I helped you get out of the Dome, and he wound up in hospital, that was not part of the deal. Now he's back there and he may never come out. Again, it's because of you. So understand, with him around, I'm safe. Without him, you're not."

***
Thursday night

      Castillo watched from a distance as Rico sat down slowly and took Sonny's hand in his. It had been three days since this nightmare had started. In that time Rico had not left the hospital. He had been showering in the Doctors' lounge facility - thanks to Fielding - catching a few hours of sleep when Castillo forced him to, and Stan had been bringing in regular changes of clothing. But the worry and fear were showing through.

      A skeleton team was running the vice unit, with Rico out of commission, there was little choice. There was no way Castillo was going to ask him to work. He was not in any shape to be effective. It would have been too dangerous for everyone. He had effectively lost his two senior undercover detectives. Deals that should have been going down were not. Chances lost forever in the on-going business world of the Miami drug dealers. But he could not bring himself to care about it.

      He could not remember the last time he had allowed his life to be disrupted like this. He had been living from his car since the moment Sonny was shot, driving back and forth between the unit headquarters and the hospital. Knowing when he was sitting in the ICU he should be at the office. But once back at headquarters, he felt uncomfortable and anxious.

      He had been through the stages. First anger at Bodelle, and then at Travellyan and even Izzy. Blame focused on himself for sending Crockett out there in the first place. As he had told Rico that first day, it was no good to second guess yourself, it did not change anything. Only now was he beginning to take his own advice and to stop looking for answers. There weren't any.

      Everyday that passed, slowly increased Sonny's chances of survival. Even now, the doctors were only giving him a 50/50 chance. His body was still in deep shock from the trauma.

      As the Lieutenant stood there, his subconscious registered a change in the rhythmic bleeping of the machines around Sonny's bed. Rico hit the panic button before his own panic overwhelmed him. The room filled instantly.

      Nurses were politely pushed out of the way as Doctor Fielding moved quickly to his patient. Orders were called out. A request for someone to ready an operating theatre. Marty gently led Rico out of the room, back into the ICU waiting area where they had spent so much time recently.

      After three days of worrying, of sitting and watching his partner lie still and silent, fighting for his life, Rico finally crumbled. Marty sat and held him tightly as he cried. The sobs were painful to listen to; filled with bitter tears against the injustice. Why was Sonny fighting to survive and the cause of this nightmare, Bodelle, was sitting up in his hospital bed?

      The older man struggled to keep his own emotions in check, Rico needed support right now. But it was difficult. He felt like he had known Sonny all his life. He cared about the man so deeply it was like having a surrogate son. For all his brash manner and quick temper, he was a wonderful, gentle person underneath. It was almost too easy to find yourself caring too much for someone like Sonny.

      Rico pulled back, too tired to be embarrassed. He tried to brush his tears away with his fingers, but it was of no use. Now that he had started to cry, he simply could not stop. With his boss sitting close, Rico started to talk. Maybe if he tried to explain, even if it was not necessary - maybe it would help.

      "He'd been recovering, from what Cintaro did. He was okay. We were okay. I didn't think we ever would be again, but we survived it."
      Marty was still largely unaware of many details concerning the Cintaro case. He knew Sonny had been sexually assaulted. He had assumed it was Cintaro who had done that. But something had happened that night, something between Sonny and Rico that their Lieutenant was not sure about. He had kept a careful eye on Sonny's progress when he had returned to work. Castillo had put them on surveillance and given them both the time they needed to heal.

      As badly as Castillo had wanted to know exactly what had happened at the Dome, he suspected he would never know all the details. Each time he thought about it, he regretted sending Sonny and Rico undercover into the Dome. But right now was not the time for his own guilt. Right now he did not need the details to understand that what Rico needed, right this moment, was someone to just listen. He needed to talk about what was racing around his brain.

      As he sat listening, Castillo heard the page go out for Ben Waltham to report to ICU. Minutes later, a sudden bang of the ICU door, as it swung open, snapped Rico's head around. Fielding, followed by Sonny's gurney and several nurses, were headed down the corridor. Sonny lay in the midst of this, still surrounded by monitors, wires and intravenous tubes.

      Martin put a gentle but firm hand on Rico's shoulder, silently suggesting that he stay where he was. Castillo stood and went after the rapidly disappearing group. He barely caught up with them just outside the operating theatre. Bri spotted him; gesturing for the nurses to continue, he hung back.

      "What's happening?"
      "He's hemorrhaging internally. We won't know details until we open him up. I have to go."

      Marty found himself staring at the white doors as they swung shut. When he turned, Rico was standing behind him; his expression said it all.

***

      Rico opened his eyes and sat up - outside it was still dark. He glanced at his watch. It was still Thursday night. They were still waiting for Sonny to come out of surgery. Obviously there had been no word yet, as he could tell from Castillo's face as the man stared out into the stormy night.

      Rico leaned forward and rubbed his eyes. Someone handed him a cup of coffee. He accepted it gratefully, mumbling his thanks. He was so drained by all this that the bitterness of the brew did not even register on his taste-buds. He had been living on the stuff since Monday. He looked up to see who his saviour was and found Mike DeLelo taking the seat directly opposite him.

      "How are you doin'?"
      Something just snapped in Rico's brain. The question shoved him over the edge. "Oh don't start that crap on me, DeLelo." Rico's anger suddenly fixated on the man in front of him. "How do you think I'm doing?!"

      Marty turned quickly at the change in tone and slight rise in the volume of Rico's voice. His fears were confirmed a moment later, when Rico stood up nearly dumping his coffee. "My best friend is in surgery for the third time in three days! He may die and I feel as if my life has been shattered." He took a step toward the psychiatrist. "So how do you think I feel? Huh?"

      Marty had started to move, but it was Stan who closed in on his friend. Putting himself between the two men, he turned to Rico. "C'mon, Rico, let's get out of here."

      They ended up at the marina. Once aboard the St.Vitus Dance, Stan went in search of food for Elvis, and Rico went below deck. As he descended into the galley, the memory of sitting here and holding Sonny after the Cintaro case, slammed into him. Tears came unbidden, as the thought of the pain he had caused his partner came flooding back.

      Stan found Rico standing at the bottom of the steps, weeping silently. He urged Rico to sit on the couch. Unsure of what he should do, he gave Rico time to calm before he spoke. "He's gonna be okay. You have to believe that. You have to believe in him."
      "He's been through so much recently, too much pain."
      "You're hurting for him. It's okay. I've been there. But I never had the hope that you've got." He wanted to reassure him more, but they were not even certain that Crockett was going to make it through this latest surgery. How could he say to Rico that his partner would be all right if they returned to the hospital and the unthinkable had happened?

      Rico drew a long breath and leaned back against the sofa. He tilted his head back, and looked out of the porthole at the dark and stormy sky. "I'm sorry. I'm just having trouble dealing with it all." He closed his eyes briefly. "There're just so many 'ifs'. If he makes it through this surgery. If the bullet did too much damage, he may be paralyzed. If the initial blood loss was too severe, he may have brain damage...." The tears started again and he tried in vain to stop them. He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm sorry."

      "Don't apologize. When Lare got killed I fell to pieces. I blamed Sonny for his death. I came over here, started yellin' and screamin' at him, and he just took it. By the time my anger ran out I was in tears. Sonny just stood and held me, as if I hadn't tried to rip him to shreds. I don't know if he told you...." Rico shook his head.

      "...Lare and I were very close." Stan was silent for a moment, lost in his own memories. He looked at Rico. "Thing is... with you two.... I've never seen a partnership as close as the two of you. Not even Lare and me." He shook his head. "It's spooky sometimes. I'm not sure if either of you notice it, but others have commented. It's like you know what the other's thinking. Sometimes in briefings, it's like talking to the same person with two bodies. You're both on the same track without a word passing between you."

      Rico smiled sadly, he knew what Stan was talking about. He had felt it for a long, long time. It was just one of the multitude of things he would miss if.... He stopped that line of thought. He needed to talk. He needed someone to know just how deep his feelings ran. He wanted someone to understand how he was feeling and why. Everything seemed to stem from one incident, one nightmare - Cintaro.
      "Things were just getting back to normal after what that bastard put us through...." Rico hoped that by saying all this aloud that he could get a handle on all this anger. He did not want to vent his anger physically.

      "You mean Cintaro, don't you?" Rico was surprised, and Stan did not need the inevitable question. "I went with Sonny to the hospital that morning. I waited while the doc checked him over and they moved him into the trauma unit. When I went to sit with him, the doc told me he was in shock." He dropped his voice to a more gentle tone. "He also said they'd found evidence that Sonny had been raped."
      "You never said anything?"
"I didn't know how to, or even whether I wanted to know or whether he wanted to talk about it. When you two came back to work, things were... different, but he seemed okay. Obviously you were there for him, and I figured that if he believed only you and the Lieutenant knew, it would be better for him - easier for him to go on."

      Rico looked down at his tightly clenched hands. "He was raped." That was enough. "I saw it. Sonny flipped while it was happening. It took a long time for him to come back to himself. But other things happened while we were there. Other things changed. Things were revealed.... God, Stan, I think I'm falling in love with him."

      Everything Sweitek should have felt at that moment passed through him in an instant. He knew he had heard Rico right. He found he even thought he understood what his friend was saying. Gently, he said, "A partnership's like a marriage, Rico. Sonny's life is in the balance, your feelings are messed up. Ninety percent of your memories from the past eight years involve Sonny. You practically live together, relying on each other in all kinds of situations.... Cintaro raped him while you watched.... You don't witness something like that without feeling something."
      Rico sighed and stood, "It's more than that Stan. It's deeper than that."

*

      Castillo and DeLelo talked quietly as the hours ticked by. Gina and Trudy had finally gone home. The waiting had become too much. Caroline had called. Sonny's cousin, Jack, had called. His only other living blood relative, his brother Jake, was still being tracked down.

****

      Fielding saw that Sonny was made as comfortable as possible in Recovery, spoke briefly to Waltham, and approached Castillo in the waiting room. "Could we talk in private?" Martin nodded and stood. "Where's Rico?"
      "Sweitek took him for some air."

      They went into one of the side offices, and sat down. Bri looked as though he could use a few hours of undisturbed sleep.
      "We managed to stop the bleeding." Bri hesitated. "About an hour into the procedure, Sonny went into cardiac arrest. I know we agreed that if it happened, we would let him go. But I couldn't. It was my decision and I made it." He pinched the bridge of his nose.

      "We restarted his heart, but in doing so we put more strain on him. I know it was the right decision. To have come this far and not give him a fighting chance to live seemed unfair. I just thought you should know."
      "Thank you." Castillo nodded. "How is he?"
      "He's holding on." Bri so wanted to give more assurance, but they did not have much to go on just yet. "As for the rest, we won't know for a while. We're going to keep him on the respirator until we feel he's strong enough to breathe on his own. Once he's off the respirator, we'll let him wake so that we can assess the true extent of the damage.
      "There's been massive internal tissue trauma, which will heal, given time. A minor infection has started in two of the bullet wounds, so we've upped the antibiotic for the moment. There will be scarring both front and back."
      "It's the possible brain and nerve damage that we're most concerned about. Both are still unknowns at this stage. The surgery to remove the splintered bullets confirmed that there was no fracture or compression in the spinal column, but it's likely there was some soft tissue swelling from the initial trauma. The inhibitor definitely helped to prevent any further damage, but just how much the initial impact with the spine caused, we don't know yet."
      "I'm sorry I can't give you more." Fielding sighed. "The truth is, Sonny's facing the biggest battle of his life, and I don't know if he's got the strength to fight it."

      Sweitek and Tubbs fed Elvis and returned to the hospital. It was understood that what they had discussed was not going to be repeated. Stan had no problems with that.

      Marty was sitting with Sonny when Rico entered the ICU. His Lieutenant gently explained to him what Fielding had said.

      All they could do now was wait.

Friday

      "He's slipped into a coma."
      The doctor's words cut a cold path straight through Rico's heart. "Unfortunately, this is an indicator that there was some brain trauma. With the rest of his body trying to heal itself, the brain could just need time to rest. His system is still in deep shock and now he needs the time to start to heal."
      "There's no way to tell at this point how long he'll remain in the coma. It could last a few hours, or a few days, or...." The pain that Bri saw in Rico's eyes was so raw. The man was obviously aware that Sonny may never wake up again. "For now, we'll keep a close eye on him. In a few days, when he's stable enough, we're going to start some simple physical therapy. We need to keep his muscle tone good, in order to correctly assess any possible nerve damage when he awakens."

***

      It was a wonderfully sunny day in Atlanta. Caroline had decided that she had left it long enough. She looked at her son across the breakfast table. She was trying to stay calm, trying to keep the emotion from her voice as she spoke. "Sweetheart, I have some bad news, about your dad."
      The 10 year old knew instantly. Maybe he had been expecting this all his life. "Mom, is he okay?"
      She shook her head. "He was shot, while he was working. They don't know if he'll be okay."
      Billy wanted to be brave, and not cry. But this was his dad and he loved his dad so very much. Caroline saw the tears fill his eyes and moved around the table. She pulled her son into her arms, holding him tightly. After letting him have a moment to calm down, she spoke quietly. "Billy, I'm going to go to Miami. You can come with me, but only if you want to. It's your decision."
      "I want to see him. He's my dad."
"I know, Billy, but you've got to understand that he's very poorly. He's not going to be how you remember him." She reached up to brush his tears away. "Sweetheart, it's going to hurt to see him this way. I don't want to upset you any more."
      He pulled back a bit out of her embrace, looked at her solemnly and said. "I have to see him, Mom. I want to tell him that I love him."

***

      "Bri?"
      Fielding opened his eyes and sat up. He had fallen asleep at his desk. "Ben!" He rubbed his eyes with the back of a hand. "I'm sorry."
      "You need some proper sleep. The ICU nurse told me you've been here since Monday morning."
      "Well, I went home Wednesday."
      "You must get some rest. You're not going to be any good to anyone unless you do."
      "I know, I know."
      Ben Waltham sat down. Legs crossed, chin on hand, he regarded his colleague with some suspicion. "What's got to you? Is it this Vice cop?"
      Fielding sighed and settled back in his chair. "I was here when he was brought in a few weeks back. He'd been sexually assaulted. I was angry then, I'm not certain why. But now this...."
      Waltham leaned forward and lifted a picture frame from Bri's desk. He turned it in his hands and looked at the photo it contained. Bri and another man, lying on a sofa somewhere, one in front of the other, both smiling. Bri was in the front. The man behind him was a perfect match for their critically ill patient.

      "This is why. He looks like Kieran. He reminds you of him, and you don't want the same thing to happen again." Waltham kept his voice gentle, trying to show some understanding. "I'm not going to give you the lecture about personal involvement...."
      "Good."
"But Bri, you know what Detective Crockett's chances are. Please, do us all a favour and get some sleep. Then take a couple of steps back from all this. Kieran's dead. Getting yourself all worked up, because a Vice cop got himself shot, won't do you any good. And it won't change anything."

*

      Castillo met United Airlines flight A495 at Miami International Airport early Saturday morning. It was the weekend. It had been a nightmare of a week. And it did not look like it was going to get any better anytime soon.
      Caroline looked like they all did. She was tired and the boy was quiet. He flashed his badge as they came through the arrivals lounge. "Caroline? I'm Lieutenant Castillo. I'm Sonny's boss."
      "How is he?"
      "There's been no change."

      Rico was sitting by Sonny's bed as Caroline followed Martin into the room. They had persuaded Billy to stay in the waiting room. When she saw Sonny, she was grateful that they had. He was in a worse state than she had imagined. Tears sprang to her eyes.

      Reluctantly, knowing that he should, Rico stood. "Hi, Caroline."
      She went to him. Hugged him. "Rico.... I'm so sorry."
      He swallowed hard, holding her warmth against him. "No, I'm sorry.... I should have done more...."
      "No, Rico, don't blame yourself."
      Slowly, they parted, and her eyes moved down to her ex-husband. "I'd been trying to prepare myself for this. What I imagined wasn't even close."
      "Do you want some time?"
      "Yes. Please. Billy's outside with Stan. He'll be all right, won't he?"

      Castillo nodded. He thought about asking Rico to talk to his partner's son. But one glance at Tubbs changed his mind. He could not ask anything of Rico at the moment.


      Caroline sat down and looked into Sonny's face. He was very pale, and the respirator pipe was snaking from the side of his mouth, but otherwise it was difficult to believe that his life was at risk. He looked so peaceful.

      Carefully, she reached out and touched his face. "Sonny. It's Caroline. I don't know if you can hear me, I hope you can. Everyone wants you to come back to us." Her voice cut softly through the periodic beeping of the monitors. "I know it's difficult, Sonny, but you can fight this and you can win. You have to, Sonny, for Billy's sake."

      She sat up and listened to the noises around her. The compression of the respirator was the most unnerving. His heart rate was steady and the EEG was registering some brain activity. That was all she could tell.

      A short time later, a voice interrupted her reverie.
      "Mom?"
She turned to see Billy standing in the doorway, holding Sweitek's hand. "I'm sorry, he wanted to see his dad."
      Caroline stood and walked to them.
      "Uncle Stan explained what all the machines do. It's okay, Mom."
      She nodded, and Stan released his hand. He passed her as he walked slowly into the room, over to where his father lay. He stopped next to the bed. Both adults watched as Billy carefully wrapped his fingers around his dad's hand.
      "Please, get well, Dad. If you don't, I'll miss you. I love you, Dad."
      As he spoke, the EEG monitor registered a slight peak, then fell again - as if Sonny had heard his son's plea.

***

Tuesday

      "Excuse me, Nurse. I'm Jake Crockett, I believe my brother's been brought here?"

      Rico had lost count of the hours he had spent simply sitting beside Sonny's bed, holding his hand and talking. He must have recounted his life story by now. He had poured out his feelings. Over and over again he had told Sonny how much he loved him, and how much he missed him.

      Rico had remembered what Fielding had said, coma patients could often hear what was going on around them. Bri had suggested that maybe Rico could read to Sonny. So Rico had asked Stan to bring in some books. Stan had arrived with a bag full. He had apologized, he did not have much time to read. But he had explained that when he and Lare used to do surveillance, Lare used to read Agatha Christie novels. He had the whole "Poirot" series as well as stacks of "Miss Marple". He had loved the little old woman who solved mysteries like she was making jam. When Lare died, his Mom had given them to Stan.

      "Murder on the Orient Express" had been the first one out of the bag. Rico did not know if Sonny liked detective novels or not, but it was something to do while he sat there. And after a while, Rico found himself wanting to know the ending. He just hoped Sonny had not read it before.

      Jake was shown into Fielding's office. He had already waited twenty minutes and by the time Bri joined him, he was a very unhappy man.
      "Are you Fielding?"
      Bri held out his hand, "Doctor Bri Fielding. I'm sorry, I was tied up in theatre."
      "Why can't I just see my brother?"
      "The police are being very careful about who sees Sonny."
      Jake sighed, clearly agitated. "If the police had been more careful earlier, maybe _James_ wouldn't be in this position."
      Bri sat down, frowning at Jake's remark. "Mr. Crockett, I understand that you're upset. Security is tight around Sonny." He chose to ignore the reference to his patient's actual christian name. "I wanted to explain what his condition is, before you saw him."

      Jake shrugged. "I was told he'd been involved in a shooting."
      "Sonny's in a coma. He was hit by five bullets. One splintered against his spine. He's been in surgery three times and slipped into a coma after the last. We've done everything that we can. All we can do now is wait. I'm sorry."
      Jake stood, showing no emotion whatsoever. "I'd like to see him."

      Two nurses settled Sonny onto his left side. One nurse then checked the monitor readings, and gave Rico a supportive smile. The other settled a fresh hospital gown over Sonny, adjusted the pillow between his knees and straightened the sheet. They left quietly and Tubbs sat down, reaching out to brush strands of hair away from Sonny's face. "I'll tell you something, Partner. I know something's happened between us, because for the first time I don't want these ladies' telephone numbers."

      He looked up as the door opened. Bri smiled at Rico as he showed a second man inside. Rico's heart skipped a beat. The second guy was not exactly Sonny's double, but the resemblance was striking. His hair was much shorter and a little darker. Those seemed to be the only differences - until he spoke.

      "Who are you?"
      Unprepared for the hostility in Jake's voice, Rico's face fell. Bri answered. "This is Rico Tubbs, Sonny's longtime partner." There was a definite warning tone in Fielding's voice. "Rico, this is Jake Crockett."
      "I can see the family resemblance." Rico nodded. "Good to see you. I'm glad we found you."
      Jake said nothing. He walked up to the bed and gazed down at the still form lying there."
      "God, James," he muttered, "you made a mess of yourself this time."
      Rico bristled, and Fielding moved quickly between the two men.
      Jake looked at him. "So is he going to live?"
      "We don't know much at this stage. As I said, we've done everything we can for him. Now we just have to help him fight as best we can. The rest is up to him."
      Jake then turned to Rico. "What happened?"

      Rico did not answer. The tone of Jake's voice was disturbing. Sonny had never said a lot about his brother. They used to be close when they were young. That's about all he knew. But Rico had been through too much recently. He was balanced on a very thin edge, especially where his partner was concerned.

      In an unconscious show of possessiveness, Rico wrapped his fingers around Sonny's hand. Jake's eyes widened. His voice rose in volume and took on an icy edge. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" Jake demanded.

      Bri had had enough. "That's it, out of ICU now before you upset my patient." He took Jake's arm firmly in his grip and led him out of the room.

      Squeezing Sonny's hand, Rico whispered, "I'll be back in a moment, Partner."

      Outside in the corridor, Rico caught up with Jake as he was leaving. He took the man's arm and spun him against the wall, fighting to keep his anger under control.
      "What it is with you?! That's your younger brother in there!"
      "Get your hands off me." Rico let go. "I'm well aware of the situation."
      "Are you? So why don't you care?!"
      "I care, Detective. I just don't show it in the same way as you do. I'm not gonna sit there holding his hand like you seemed prepared to do."
      Tubbs stared at him, opened mouthed. "Sonny's got five bullet wounds. There's a high probability of brain damage. There's a high probability of nerve trauma. He may be paralyzed. He may never come out of the coma." His voice lowered. "He needs all the support he can get. He deserves it. He's been surrounded by love and support from the moment he was brought here. You're his older brother. He has a right to expect support from you."
      Jake shrugged away from Rico. He started to pace the corridor and for the first time his voice took on some emotion. "He hasn't got the right to expect anything from me."
      Rico softened. There was something going on here that he did not understand. "Whatever happened between you two, Jake, it's not important anymore. We could lose him at any time. It could go either way." He felt tears filling his eyes as he said, "He may never wake up. And if he does and he's paralyzed, do you really think he's gonna want to spend the rest of his life having everything done for him?"
      Jake stared at him, but anger was slowly being replaced by regret. After a moment of silence, he took a deep breath. "Truth, Detective? I don't know. I haven't spoken to him in ten years."


      They sat in the canteen. Jake took one mouthful of coffee and grimaced. "You say you've been surviving on this stuff?"
      Rico forced a smile. It did not light up his face. "Yeah. You get used to it."
      There was an uncomfortable silence. "Look, Rico?" He looked at the other man for confirmation. He got a nod in reply. "I owe you an apology. You and James are obviously close."
      Rico neither accepted, nor refused the apology. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened between you and Sonny?"
      Jake frowned. "I do mind you asking. My little baby brother and I had a fight, ten years ago. The details aren't important. I take it he hasn't talked about it." Rico shook his head. "How long have you been working with him?"
      "Eight years."
      Jake nodded, sipping at his coffee. "Maybe when he wakes you could tell him I was here."
      "Maybe when he wakes you two can sort out your differences."
      Jake stood. "I doubt it, Rico. Thanks for the coffee."


Wednesday morning

      Rico basked in the shower for a long time. But when his anxiety and dread nudged him, he turned off the water and stepped out. He could feel the grief and depression threatening as he dried and dressed in the doctors' lounge. He was thankful that Fielding was bending so many hospital rules for him. Bri had made sure that the doctors' facilities were available for him to use whenever he needed to. And his lengthy stays by Sonny's bed were due to Fielding. He understood that usually visitors were only allowed in to the ICU rooms for 15 minutes maximum at any one time. Rico had spent whole days in there.

      Fielding had explained that it was not all for Rico's benefit. When Sonny woke he was going to find himself in a very frightening place, surrounded by tubes, machines and strange people. If there was someone familiar there beside him when he opened his eyes, it would be less stressful on his already traumatized system.

      They still did not know how much, if any, brain damage there was. They were confident that the inhibitor drug had been successful. It had been administered early enough to have a positive effect, and Sonny had responded well to it. The question they faced now, was whether or not they had stopped the trauma reaction in the spinal cord before any permanent damage had been done. It was a question only Sonny could answer.

      So far, it seemed the only progress was that Sonny was finally deemed strong enough to survive without the aid of the respirator. He had continued to breathe steadily once the trach tube was removed. Rico was grateful for this small step. Fielding had wanted Sonny off the respirator as soon as he was strong enough. They wanted him to be able to wake up when he was ready, but they preferred that the respirator tube be gone when it happened. The feeling of a tube down your throat, your breathing being controlled by a machine, Bri had explained, could be absolutely terrifying.

      Tubbs dressed quickly in a fresh shirt and loose trousers. He hurried back to ICU. It was like a routine, almost like getting up and going to work in the morning. But there was an unending feeling of dread whenever he returned to ICU, as if each time might be the last. The fear that Sonny would slip away from him, while Rico was absent, drove him back to the unit with a sense of urgency. He had never felt so helpless in his life and it was almost unbearable.

      But as he quietly entered Sonny's room this time, he knew instantly that something was different. Fielding was crouched by the head of Sonny's bed. Rico moved around and his eyes settled on his partner's face.

      Rico's heart leapt as he saw two green eyes looking up at the doctor. "Sonny...." Bri moved back to allow Rico to move closer.
      "Gently now, don't rush him." Fielding was clearly relieved, "He's only just woken."
      Tubbs sat down and gently grasped Sonny's hand. For the first time, he felt a slight pressure as Sonny's fingers tried to curl around his. Rico felt his throat tighten as tears of joy threatened.

      "You're doing fine, Sonny." Bri's voice was gentle and coaxing. "Everything is going to be fine."
      Rico's smile lit up his face. He stared lovingly into Sonny's eyes. His partner's gaze was slightly glassy from the medications, but there was a definite spark of life there. His expression, of almost childlike confusion and innocence, made Rico want to just grab him and hold him.

      Sonny was still propped on his side because of the drainage tube in his back. But he did not seem to be inclined to move. He did not speak. He just continued to look at Rico.
      "Sonny." Green eyes tracked to locate the voice. He could hear them and he seemed to know his name. Bri deliberately stayed in his patient's line of sight and reached over to move the bed-sheet from Sonny's feet. "Can you move your toes for me?" He paused, then, "That's good. Okay, just relax. You're going to be fine."

      Still smiling, Rico caught Fielding's gaze. The doctor shook his head. There had been no movement. Bri whispered, "It's still very early. Don't panic."
      When Rico turned back to Sonny he found himself being watched. "Sonny, welcome back. You're gonna be okay."

      Sonny's eyes drifted shut and Tubbs gently squeezed his hand. "That's it. You rest now. I'll be here when you wake." His partner relaxed into a deep healing sleep.

      Rico was almost giddy with relief. He stood carefully so as not to disturb Sonny. He turned to Fielding with an almost blinding smile. "I've got let Castillo and the others know the good news."

      Martin and Stan had just arrived when a smiling Ricardo Tubbs met them in the corridor. "He just woke up. Sonny's out of the coma."
      He thought Stan was going to hug him, but he stopped short. "Can I see him?"
      "Sure, just go quietly. Fielding's gotten very protective."

      When Rico turned back to Castillo, he could see his own smile reflected in his boss's eyes.
      "Are you okay, Rico?"
      "Yeah, I guess I am. It's the first step, isn't it?"
      "Do they know any more?"
      "Not really. I guess it's too soon." Rico felt a little knot of worry creep back in. "He responded to his name, but not much more." He took a deep breath. "Lieutenant, I need to stay here with him, I can't let him go through this on his own. I...."
      Castillo put a hand on Rico's shoulder, stopping him. "I wouldn't ask you to leave. Take all the time you need. I'll take care of his paperwork. Don't worry. We're all here for you, don't forget that." He squeezed Rico's shoulder reassuringly. "Sonny's not going through this on his own, and neither are you. Your jobs are waiting for you, both of you. _When_ you're ready."
      "Thank you."
      "Rico, just remember to take care of yourself too. You're not going to do Sonny any good if you collapse from exhaustion." He paused, catching Rico's gaze. "We take this one step at a time. Sonny's never going to be alone. Whatever happens."
      Rico could only nod his thanks.


      Stan smiled as Sonny stared up at him. "Hey, Sonny, good to have you back, Pal." There was an odd look in Sonny's eyes that Stan interpreted as confusion. "It's me, Stan. Rico'll be back in a minute or two."

      Fielding watched them over the clipboard, from the end of the bed. Sonny's eyes closed again. "He's still very weak and very disorientated. It's to be expected."
      "Is he really going to be all right?"
      "He's made it this far, we're just going to have to be patient and see what progress he makes."


Wednesday evening

      "Rico...." Bri stepped into Sonny's ICU room, unsure whether either of its occupants were awake.

      Rico sat up from where his head had rested on his folded arms on the edge of the bed. For a moment, he thought it was time for Sonny to be turned again. With the drainage tube still in place, the monitor leads and the IV tubes, it was quite a production. He blinked up at the doctor.

      Fielding sat down carefully on the edge of the end of the bed. He saw that Rico had Sonny's hand cradled in his own. Next to them, a copy of "Death on the Nile" lay open.

      His curiosity was starting to get the better of him. Cops with gun-shot wounds were regular patients in the ICU. Partners were often upset, feeling guilty and second guessing everything that they had done.

      Ricardo Tubbs had arrived with Sonny Crockett. Despite the fact that he was suffering from mild hypothermia and shock, he had not rested. He had been with his partner, in spirit at least, every step of the way. This was devotion above and beyond the normal realms of partnership.

      "You two are very close. How long have you worked together?"
      "About eight years."
      "Is this the first time one of you've been injured, badly?"
      "We've had scares. I was on surveillance one afternoon, talking to Sonny on the car phone. The guy just came out of the house unexpectedly and shot me. All I remember is hearing Sonny's voice on the other end of the line, screaming my name, and me not being able to answer him."
      Bri nodded. "The mind does that sometimes. It blocks out certain memories and pushes others to the front."
      "Will Sonny remember what happened to him?"
      Bri shrugged, "It's difficult to say. I doubt he'll remember everything of what happened. His mind will try to protect him." He paused. "Then again, we don't know how much his memory will be affected by the trauma and the blood loss he suffered."

      Fielding settled himself on the bed. "I know when we use the phrase 'brain damage' it sends chills through you. But you need to remember there's a huge scale of effects. It could be as simple as he won't remember what his plans were for that evening, to complete irreversible loss of everything."
      Rico knew what Sonny's plans had been for that particular evening. "We were supposed to have dinner together." He murmured, almost to himself. "He was going to cook. He said he owed me one." He reached over to touch Sonny's cheek.

      Fielding did not speak for a short while, allowing Rico a private moment to remember. He thought back to the dinners he and Waltham used to share, before the surgeon left for Seattle. He missed those times. He and Ben used to be good friends. Now the barely saw each other. And when they did, it was often over an operating table.

      Rico looked up, suddenly realizing Fielding had been in the middle of explaining the situation to him. "Sorry. Please, go on."

      Fielding mentally shook himself and nodded. "We know Sonny's there. He knows who he is and seems to know who you are. He didn't seem to be certain about Stan, but he's still very weak and heavily medicated. Most likely he was expecting to see you there when he woke as you were there when he fell asleep. We are a little concerned that he didn't try to talk or move."

      Rico's eyes strayed to his partner's face. "What if he did try to move, and he couldn't."
      "Bri shook his head, "The EEG would have registered it if he had."

      They sat in companionable silence for a little while, listening to the bleeps of the various monitors. Finally, Rico broke the silence. "So what happens next?"
      "Waltham has scheduled another set of x-rays for tomorrow morning. He's checking the healing around the spine. If everything looks okay, we're going to take the drain out of his back and close up the wound."
      "More anesthetic?"
      "No, the patient remains awake for that procedure."
      Rico looked shocked. "Doesn't it hurt?"
      "Under normal circumstances? Yes. But with the painkillers he's being given, he's not going to feel a thing." He smiled, "Don't worry Rico, we're not going to put him through any more than he has to go through."

      As he talked, Bri reached over to adjust the blanket over Sonny's feet. His hand brushed the underside of Sonny's right foot. It twitched in response. "My God." He held his breath as he repeated the touch to Sonny's left foot. This foot too, jumped at the touch.

      Rico looked up. "What is it?"
      Smiling now, Fielding ran a gentle finger down the base of his patient's sensitive foot. This time not only did his foot move, Sonny grunted. "He's ticklish! Does that tickle, Sonny?" Bri could hardly believe it. "He can feel what I'm doing and he's trying to move away."

      It took a moment, but finally the significance hit Tubbs like a ton of bricks. He was too joyous for words, as he listened with delight to the annoyed mutters of his partner. Sonny had always hated people touching his feet.

      Tubbs leaned over Sonny, gently squeezing his hand. After a moment, Sonny opened his eyes and swallowed painfully. "Rico...." His voice barely came out as a dry, raspy whisper. It was the most beautiful thing Rico had ever heard.

      "Yeah, Sonny, it's me." The grin on his face said everything, and Bri imagined he could feel the radiance coming from it.

      Bri pushed the tray table over to Rico and nodded to the pitcher of water, and the glass with a straw. "Would you like some water, Sonny?" Sonny swallowed.
      Rico quickly poured a little into the glass and held the straw to Sonny's lips.
      "Only give him a couple of sips." Rico nodded and Bri continued, "If he doesn't want to drink any, you could just moisten his lips."
      Rico nodded.

      Fielding was quietly amazed at the complete lack of physical barriers between these men. He could not help but keep remembering the reason for Sonny's last hospitalization. He did not want to put two and two together only to come up with seventy-four. But he found himself still wondering.

      Sonny took a couple of sips. He then spoke quietly before drifting off to sleep. Rico was chuckling when he set the glass back.
      "What did he say?"
      "He said, 'Stop tickle.'"

***

      Rico stayed awake all night, not wanting to leave Sonny's bedside lest he should wake again. Sonny slept peacefully. Only twice did he awaken during the turning sessions every two hours. Rico was amazed at how anyone could sleep through it, and it drove home to him just how weak Sonny really was. When he did wake, Sonny had a couple of sips of water, gave Rico a little smile, and drifted back off to sleep.

      When Waltham saw Rico at 7:00 am, he practically ordered him to get some rest. Sonny was going to be x-rayed and examined by Waltham. If everything was okay, the drainage tube was going to be removed.

      Fielding promised Rico that Sonny would not be left alone. He would stay with Sonny until Rico returned. So Rico left the ICU relieved, but exhausted. Yet he could not sleep and he decided to get out of the hospital for a while.

      Rico took Sonny's Ferrari and drove into town. Each evening, after work, Stan was driving out to feed Elvis and check on the boat, until other arrangements could be made. Anyone who called for "Burnett" simply heard an answering machine - he was out of town, and would be for some time. It was perfectly normal behaviour for a dealer. Rico decided to check in at the office and make sure "Cooper"'s contacts were getting the same idea.

      The vice unit had returned to work only two days after the shooting. Castillo, despite sharing his time between the office and the hospital, still managed to look like he was getting eight hours sleep a night. Stan, Gina, Trudy and Martin gathered in the briefing room to allow Rico to bring them up to date on Sonny's progress. Every little thing was a huge step forward, even though it was early days.

***

      The x-rays confirmed Waltham's hopes that Sonny's spinal column was undamaged and the wounds healing well. There had been so much soft tissue damage and swelling initially, that the earlier x-rays had been somewhat inconclusive. On these new results, Fielding went ahead with the procedure to remove the drain.

      In the treatment room, Bri lifted the sheet from Sonny and folded back the gown to expose his back. The incision, through which the tube entered Sonny's body, was red. Fearing a slight infection, Bri ordered that Sonny be started on another short course of antibiotics, but that a special look out be kept for any possible side-effects. Sonny had been dosed up with antibiotics since he was admitted, and there was an increasing chance that his system would either become accustomed to them, making them lose their effectiveness, or Sonny would develop an allergy to the drugs.

      Carefully, the tape that held the tube in place, was peeled away. As Fielding slowly started to remove the tube, he felt Sonny shift position. He reached up and touched his patient's exposed arm. "Easy Sonny. Just relax. It'll be over in a moment. I'm removing the tube from the wound in your back. I'll be finished soon." Bri continued to pull at the tube, his concern rising as Sonny shifted again, obviously uncomfortable.

      Once the tube was fully out of Sonny's body, and the incision closed, Bri moved to allow the nurse to dress the wound. He walked around Sonny's gurney. Sonny was awake. His eyes were slitted with pain and tears glistened on his face. Fielding crouched down, bringing himself eye-level with his patient.

      "Sonny, it's nearly over." Fielding realized that Sonny had no idea what was happening to him. They still did not know how much he remembered. It was one thing waking to the familiar face of his partner in a quiet, darkened room. It was quite another to wake in unknown surroundings, in pain, being hurt by strangers. "Relax, Sonny. In a minute we'll get you back to the intensive care unit. Then I'll explain what's happening."

      Sonny seemed to understand. His eyes closed. His fingers clutched slightly at the sheet over him. Bri gave Sonny's upper arm a supportive squeeze.

      The nurse finished dressing the new set of stitches, and then Bri started to look at the older ones. The five bullet entrance wounds were healed nicely, and Bri removed the stitches for each of them. Soon, they would have to decide what they were going to do about the large exit wound in Sonny's back.

      Back in ICU, a pillow was put under Sonny's back and he was moved so that his weight was shifted slightly from his side.

      It had been decided to leave in the catheter for now, even though Fielding knew Sonny was going to hate it. Sonny was still very weak and they were still largely unsure of his actual physical state.

      After what seemed like a very long time, Fielding was left alone with his patient. Just as he started to sit down, Sonny attempted to move himself back on to his side. Bri gently assisted, trying to make it as painless as possible.

      "Is that more comfortable?" Bri asked quietly, sitting down. Sonny opened his eyes. This time his gaze was clearer. He wanted to speak, but even just swallowing was painful enough. Bri stopped him. He leaned over and touched the index finger of Sonny's left hand. "Can you move this finger for me?"

      Sonny moved his finger, not a great amount, but enough. "That's good. So, if I ask you a few questions, can you move it once for yes and twice for no?" The finger lifted and fell back. "Good." The expression in Sonny's eyes was asking its own, multitude of questions. Bri knew it was best to answer them first.

      "Sonny, I'm Doctor Bri Fielding. I've been your doctor since you were admitted. You're in the Intensive Care Unit of Miami Dade Hospital." Bri paused, making certain that Sonny seemed to be grasping what he said. "Do you remember being hurt?" Sonny moved his finger twice. No, he did not. Well, that was not unexpected.

      "Do you remember being down by the docks?" There was a hesitation, then two movements. "Do you remember the name Kym Bodelle?"

      Again, there was a pause followed by two finger taps. Bri made a mental note to ask Rico how long they had been investigating Bodelle. It might give them some reference to how much 'time' Sonny had lost. Although to be fair, it was only a name and even Bri sometimes had trouble with names. He did not want to push. It was still very soon after the incident, Sonny might remember everything in another few days.

      Bri could read the growing concern in Sonny's eyes, over his inability to remember what he was being asked. He went on to explain the situation to Sonny. "You were shot, during an undercover drugs operation." Sonny seemed agitated and about to speak, but Bri forestalled him. "No, let me finish." Sonny quieted.

      "You were brought in here ten days ago. We operated to remove several bullets. You're going to be okay. I know it probably doesn't feel like it right now, but you will. We've been giving you pain medication, but we need to know if the pain becomes too much, okay?" Yes. "There will be someone with you all the time - either myself, or a nurse or Rico."

      Sonny smiled. Bri returned it. "You recognize Rico, don't you?" Yes. "Do you remember Stan?" A long pause, then two taps. No. On the outside, Bri was still smiling, but inside he was a little concerned that Sonny did not remember a long time friend. "Do you remember Lieutenant Castillo?" Yes. Well, that was something.

      "Your throat is very painful right now, because you were on a respirator for about a week. The tube was in your throat and it made it very sore. It'll improve in a few days, but for now the less you try to talk the better. Okay?" One finger tap.

      "You're doing good, Sonny. You woke earlier while we were removing a drainage tube from your back. I'm sorry for the discomfort. I'd hoped you might sleep through it." Sonny seemed to understand. Bri continued. "Now I need to do a couple of quick tests. Is that okay?" Sonny indicated that it was.

      Fielding stood and moved to the end of the bed. He folded the blanket back from Sonny's feet. Gently, he grasped the toes of Sonny's right foot. "Can you feel my fingers?" Yes. He moved to the other foot. "And now?" Yes.

      "I'd like you to move your toes for me. Okay?" There was a long pause, during which, Bri held his breath. Then Sonny wiggled his toes of first his right foot, then his left. "That's it. You're doing great." Bri covered his patient's feet.

      By the time Bri had sat down again, Sonny's eyes had drifted shut. He reached out and touched Sonny's index finger. There was no reaction. Sonny had drifted off to sleep. Fielding smiled to himself. His 'miracle' patient was still very weak, but doing far better than anyone could have expected. Right now, Sonny needed all the rest he could get. Time to heal.

***

Thursday night

      Rico turned the page of "Evil Under The Sun" and looked up. Sonny was watching him. The nurse had administered the day's final dose of pain-killer to Sonny, and he seemed comfortable, as he always did for the first one to two hours after each dose. But beyond that period, he slept restlessly, the intensity of the pain waking him.

      Rico squeezed Sonny's hand gently. "Are you okay?" One finger lifted and dropped.

      Bri had explained the system he had used to ask Sonny questions and Rico had suggested to his partner that they use it until Sonny could talk painlessly.

      "Do you want me to stop?" No. Rico carried on, the quiet harmonics of his voice lulling Sonny slowly into a healing sleep.

      Rico was instantly aware of the change in Sonny's breathing as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep. He set the book aside, happy just to watch Sonny's peaceful face. Rico saw that the pain lines around Sonny's eyes and mouth were temporarily gone. It troubled him to think that, even in sleep, Sonny could not escape his painful injuries. In an hour, maybe a little more, the pain lines would return.

      The possibility of Sonny's memories returning, also worried Rico. If that happened, and Sonny remembered the wrong times, the effect could be devastating. He was not certain exactly what Sonny remembered. He hoped that his partner remembered how far things had progressed between them. But he also dreaded the possibility that Sonny would remember the rape. There was the looming possibility that the returning memories would be incomplete or distorted. Or that they would return so suddenly, and unexpectedly, that Sonny might not be able to deal with them? What if Sonny blamed him? A cold knot of dread formed in Rico's stomach.

      He tried to forget about it. He would deal with the situation in time - if and when it happened. Right now, Sonny needed him.

      Fielding had switched off the audio tones of the monitors. Alarms would still sound if any readings changed dramatically, but the continuous beeping was disturbing Sonny. Without the rhythmic sounds, it was eerily quiet. The ICU of the trauma unit was made up of separate, private rooms. There was hardly any noise coming from the corridor and Rico delighted in just hearing Sonny's light breaths.

      Waltham checked on Sonny before he left for the night. Unlike Fielding, Waltham seemed to Rico to be almost brutal with Sonny. Rico knew he was probably over reacting. The neurosurgeon was an expert in his field. And he did seem intent on ensuring that Sonny made the fullest recovery possible.

      Bri had explained to Rico that it was almost impossible for a severely injured patient to retain any dignity. Things needed to be done for him because he was incapable of doing them for himself. His wounds were checked and dressed daily. The IV lines, monitor pads and catheter were checked every time he was turned. Rico had been present for these procedures many times. But he had decided that once Sonny was fully awake, he was going to start leaving the room each time. He wanted to help preserve at least some of his partner's personal pride. Sonny deserved to be treated with respect.

      Yet Waltham did not seem to care about this. He poked and prodded his patient like he was a slab of meat and once he was satisfied that his patient was stable, Waltham bade Rico goodnight and left.

**************************************

Chapter Three