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Dana filled her lungs with the bitter January air. It didn't feel as good as a cigarette, nothing did. But it had its own charm. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the sun as it broke through the thick winter clouds.
It was going to snow again before her shift ended. Dana could feel it in her left shoulder. She could only hope it was just snow and not ice. Ice made for slippery intersections and hills which meant more MVAs.
She dreaded the possibility of getting snowed in at the hospital. Not that she was particularly looking forward to going home to an empty house. It felt too big with the girls scattered back to their own lives after the holidays and Benji in San Diego for the week for a union conference. It was going to be a lonely night.
She took one more deep breath as she sensed someone approaching. Pity party over. She squinted through her snow blindness to take in the figure. A vague, large shape obscured by winter gear. A less vague shape in their gloved hand.
"Ahmad!" Dana called, making a hopeless attempt for the door. She couldn't let him get in, she couldn't let —
The sound of gunfire echoed off the buildings. Dana stumbled and went down hard.
I can't let him in. Don't let him in.
She fumbled for her ID and used her waning strength to snap it in two, locking her out of the building, but locking him out with her.
A dark laugh churned her stomach and the shooter kicked her to her back.
"You think that's going to stop me?" he asked, voice muffled by his mask.
He leveled his gun at her head. Dana took a shaky breath and carefully wiped any lingering emotion from her face. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear.
The shooter adjusted his aim and slipped his finger to the trigger.
The concrete was cold against Dana's back, salt and grit digging into her skin with tiny pinpricks of pain. Her knees ached from slowing her fall, and the cold air she'd been savoring moments before burned in her chest. She didn't want to die, especially not helpless and flat on her back. But every second the gunman wasted on her was another second for those inside to organize and get to safety. She could only hope someone had heard the commotion and gotten things moving.
A shot rang out and Dana flinched at the spray of blood. She didn't even feel the bullet.
Oh, no. She prayed silently. Please. Please, God, if it's today just let it be quick. If she died under Robby's hands he'd never forgive himself.
A heavy thump shook her from her thoughts.
Pounding feet ran past her to the shooter and his gun was kicked from his limp hand. Dana recognized one of the detectives who'd stopped in to pick up the rape kit she'd collected the day before.
She wasn't dead. She wasn't dying. The relief hit her like another kick to ribs.
"Dana!" Robby pushed past the detective's partner and took Dana's arm as she struggled to her knees. "Hey, take it easy. I need a gurney!"
"I can walk," Dana insisted, though she was too breathless to sound convincing.
"At least let me help." Robby slipped an arm around her waist and hauled her to her feet. Dana didn't resist, leaning heavily against him as he guided her inside.
"What's open?" He called as they cleared the door. His voice faltered the tiniest bit. It wasn't lost on either of them that he was usually asking her that question.
"Trauma 2." Perlah fell into step at her other side.
"That's excessive—Oh, fuck," Dana cursed as her knees gave out.
Robby caught her before she hit the floor and swept her up into his arms to carry her the last few steps to the trauma room. She yelped as he laid her down.
"Sorry," he murmured, taking a light from his pocket and checking her pupils. "Did you hit your head?"
"No." Dana struggled to catch her breath, embarrassed by the tremble in her voice.
Robby's gaze softened and he pulled off his stethoscope. "Any of this blood yours?"
Dana shook her head as he listened to her lungs and Perlah slipped a blood pressure cuff on her arm.
"I don't like these breath sounds." Robby's brow furrowed as he straightened up.
Dana scoffed weakly. "Adrenaline crash? Panic attack? Bruised ribs?…Take your pick."
She choked on a whimper as Robby ran his hands down her sides to check her ribs. His thumb caught on a hole in her shirt.
"You were hit." He pushed her arm aside and rucked up her scrub top and bra band to search for the wound.
"Oh…" Dana gasped, distantly concerned that she hadn't noticed the pain. "Just a graze…I think?"
His hands stilled. "Not just a graze."
Dana strained to see and felt something shift in her chest. A cough ripped through her throat, blood spilling past her lips.
Robby called for backup and an overwhelming number of hands were on her moments later. Dana lost time in the bustle of activity that engulfed her. Her clothes were cut away and an oxygen mask pressed to her face. Needle pricks and the sticky pads of the leads pulled at her skin. She was manhandled a bit as they searched for an exit wound, and one of her nurses released the clip from her hair so she could lay her head flat.
"Dana? Dana, stay with us. Talk to us."
She drifted a bit more, the distinct fog of a painkiller masking the growing agony in her chest.
"The shooter?" She asked, everyone perking up at her words.
"Dead," someone replied.
"Bastard." Dana blinked heavily. "I was…gonna sue him."
"We'll find someone for you to sue," Perlah said, cradling Dana's head in her hands. It wasn't necessary, but Dana was grateful for the comfort. Perlah smiled tightly as she met her eyes.
"There it is."
The cold ultrasound gel on her chest finally registered and Dana looked up quizzically at Robby studying the image.
"Just seeing what we're working with," Robby explained, seemingly sensing Dana's confusion without even glancing at her.
"Wow. It's almost identical to President Reagan's wound," Ogilvie supplied unhelpfully.
"Fuck Reagan," Dana spat through bloody teeth.
"Ogilvie, don't say that name in Dana's presence." Robby leaned into her line of sight, blocking the bright light above her. "We need to get you up to surgery."
She tried to shift to a more comfortable position, forgetting that one didn't exist at the moment. "How bad?"
"The bullet's in your chest. It didn't reach your heart or spinal cord, but your lung collapsed and there's internal bleeding. You need surgery…it can't wait, Dana."
He was deep in doctor mode, gaze steady and piercing. Dana had never been on the receiving end of that look as his patient. It was a bit unnerving, but she decided to trust him. For his benefit as much as her own.
She nodded.
"Is that your consent?"
She nodded again. "Yes. The rest is in…my advance directive."
"It won't come to that." Robby sounded a little less certain as he cupped her cheek.
"They're prepping an OR. She can go up to pre-op," Mel said over the din of the room as she hung up the phone.
"Let's go."
The elevator was quiet with just Robby and Perlah, everyone else needed in the ED. Robby stooped down to speak to her.
"There's time to call Benji before they put you under."
Dana's heart stuttered. Oh, Benji. General anesthesia always carried a small risk even under perfect conditions, not to mention the damage the bullet did tearing through her chest. She longed to hear his voice, but if things didn't go well she didn't want his last memory of her to be a few gasping words over a cell phone.
She shook her head.
"Okay. I'll call him from downstairs."
"Wait a bit…" fear clawed at her throat as it grew harder to speak. "Wait until you're sure. One way…or the other."
Robby's eyes betrayed his grief. He tore off his gloves to wipe the tears from her cheeks, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"You'll be okay," he whispered into her hair.
Dana reached for his hand. She held on until they rolled off the elevator and they passed her off to the surgical staff. She caught a last glimpse of Perlah hugging herself and Robby stiff and stricken at her side.
She recognized that expression. It was the one he'd worn as they watched Adamson take a turn for the worse.
Consciousness returned in fits and bursts. Memories new and old blended with Dana's waking thoughts, and she couldn't quite make sense of the order of events.
One moment Robby was giving her a look that felt like a goodbye, the next someone was sponging blood out of her hair. Garcia spoke to her as an anesthesiologist lowered a mask over her face. The surgeon's expression wasn't quite visible with her mask tied in place, though Dana had never seen such worry in her eyes. Perlah then Robby took turns holding her hand and whispering prayers in languages she didn't understand. She could almost hear her long-dead grandmother murmuring a decade of the Rosary. Their words all blended into heavy blanket of comfort.
She twitched her fingers in Robby's hold and he paused his prayer.
"Dana?" He whispered.
She took a deep breath to speak and groaned at the pressure it put on her chest.
"Hang tight," Robby said. He shuffled a few things around. "Okay. Meds coming."
Dana took a few careful lungfuls of air, grateful that he hadn't knocked her out. The pressure faded to a manageable level and she opened her eyes.
"Sorry," Robby said, looking over her vitals. "We weren't expecting you to wake quite yet."
He listened to her lungs and gave her a tired but reassuring smile.
"Everything is looking good. We'll keep an eye out for infection, but I think you're almost out of the woods."
"Have I been in the woods for a while?" She grimaced at the horrific rasp that marred her words. Even at the height of her smoking habit she'd never sounded so awful.
Robby put a straw to her lips. "Small sip."
She took a tiny drink of the room temperature water, grateful that it eased the discomfort in her throat.
"To answer your question: Yes." Robby set the cup aside and settled back in his chair. "Garcia did a beautiful job repairing your lung, but there was a bleeder no one could find. Your pressure kept bottoming out so they packed and closed. They kept you sedated until you were stable enough for a second procedure to find and repair the bleed.
"It's…" he glanced at his watch. "It's almost been a full day since you were shot."
His voice cracked on the last word.
Dana just stared at him for a moment. "Shit."
Robby huffed humorlessly. "Yeah."
She knew there was more. A lot more. A thousand little moments where the wrong move would have pushed her past the point of no return. She dragged a hand to her chest to feel the bandage covering the incision. It ran parallel to her ribs just below her breast and extended back a bit under her arm. She shuddered at the thought of being stretched open like that twice in a matter of hours. Rib spreaders were no joke. Dana knew she was going to be sore for weeks, but she let herself be grateful that they hadn't needed to crack her chest down her sternum.
Something felt wrong as she let her hand fall back to her side. She raised it back up to study her palm for damage she might have taken in her fall, but the skin was smooth if a little dry from whatever they'd used to clean the blood off her. She turned it over and noticed the indentation from her missing wedding band.
"Benji." She cast about the room for him. It had been almost a day. Even if Robby had waited to call him like she'd asked he could have gotten home before she woke up.
Robby's hand settled on her shoulder. "He's okay. Everyone's okay. That storm swung south last night. All flights are cancelled for at least another day. He won't be able to get here until tomorrow at the earliest. The girls too."
Dana tried to hide her disappointment. As much as Benji drove her mad at times, he was her favorite person. Her best friend and confidant. One of the only men she'd ever met who could match her attitude without taking it too far. He was fiercely protective, but always let her fight her own battles.
She thought back to the last time she'd seen him, dropping him off for his flight. A quick kiss and a promise to call when he landed. A last glance over his shoulder before she pulled away. Had she told him she loved him? She always did. It was just habit after so many years together, but she couldn't remember the exact words she used when saying goodbye. She'd nearly died. She'd nearly left him and she couldn't be sure if she —
"Dana. Breathe." Robby gently squeezed her shoulder as she gasped a few breaths. "Do you want to call him?" He asked when her heart rate settled.
"In a minute. I want to let my voice warm up first." She tried to clear her throat and accepted another drink of water. "Do they know why? Why the shooter targeted us?"
"His brother died in the ED a few months ago. He didn't leave a note or anything, but it doesn't take much to put two and two together."
"Was there malpractice?"
Robby shook his head. "Not much of a case for it. The guy was DOA. A motorcycle accident."
Dana grimaced, not surprised that she remembered the exact incident given Robby's recent obsession with motorcycles. A young man struck by a box truck. No helmet. It was no small miracle that he survived long enough for the EMTs to get him into an ambulance. She'd seen what grief could do to those left behind, but wasn't sure she could ever understand the violence that sometimes came with it.
She hoped she never would.
Robby took her hand in his and subtly felt her pulse as she gathered her thoughts. She took in his mused hair, his beard in need of a trim, the sweatshirt he'd been wearing the day before. The exhaustion in his eyes. Guilt settled heavily in her stomach.
"You never went home." It wasn't a question.
He managed a real smile. "I couldn't have even if I wanted to. The roads are closed to everyone but the plows and emergency vehicles. Part of the night shift managed to get in before everything was shut down so we're working short shifts and just sleeping where we fall."
"That sounds like hell."
Robby chuckled. "It's not pleasant but it's hard to complain about sleeping on the floor when we almost lost you."
Dana swallowed her embarrassment. "Are you okay?"
He sent her an incredulous look.
"I've had to work on friends before too, Robby. I know it takes a toll. And I know I was in rough shape."
He sighed so deeply she felt a twinge of jealousy, longing to fill her own lungs to near bursting.
"You were. It was a long night not knowing if you could survive a second surgery, and not having much to tell Benji." He looked past her to the snow still falling out her window. "But the worst part was hearing you call for help, then that gun fire, and not knowing if you were alive. I thought you'd be past saving before I got to you."
"Part of me…” Dana squeezed his fingers. “Part of me hoped I would be. If I was going to die I didn't want to die while you were working on me."
Robby's eyes filled with tears.
She pulled their hands to her lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. "I wasn't about to drag you out of this life with me."
Robby ducked his head. "It wouldn't have come to that. Even if you…didn't make it. I wouldn't do that to you."
Dana inclined her head to try and catch his eye. "You promise?"
"I promise." He nodded. "But I did um…I made an extra appointment with my therapist next week."
"She'll be relieved to have something fresh to hear from you," Dana teased carefully, beyond relieved herself that he was getting help. They'd come so close to losing him not so long ago.
"Honestly?" Robby laughed through his tears. "She probably will be."
Dana shifted, her stitches tugging uncomfortably. She felt the bruises from the shooter's kick. Remembered the frozen ground against her back as she stared down the barrel of his gun, Doug Driscoll strolling away as blood gushed from her nose, Emma's terrified eyes when she found her in a headlock. She shook her head to clear the parade of images from her mind.
"Is she taking new patients? Your therapist?" she asked quietly. "After…after I get out of here I should probably..."
Robby nodded. "I think that'd be a good idea."
He didn't push the conversation any further, a companionable silence falling between them. Dana rolled her head over to watch the snow drift against the window. Another day, probably two or more before any of her family could get to her. She blinked slowly and looked back to Robby, his image wavering a bit.
"Call Benji before I fall asleep," she whispered.
Robby dug in his pocket for his phone with a nod. He pulled up Benji's number and set it to speaker as it rang, lying it on the bed beside her before making his way to the window to give them a bit of privacy.
"Robby?" Benji answered shakily after the second ring. "Any change?"
"Yeah." Dana smiled. "It's me, sweetheart."