Believing In You (Blue Bloods Fanfiction)

↞ Chapter Thirty ↠

Season Two, Episode Twenty-One

"You know it's really not that big of a deal, it doesn't even hurt-" Jameson, being the sarcastic little prick he is, immediately pressed on my wrist which led to me yelping in pain. "Really?" I hissed, holding it just a bit closer to my chest. "I can just take some brufen and it'll be fine-"

"You're gonna see the doctor, end of story."

I groaned, pressing my forehead to Jameson's shoulder in a mild mix of annoyance and pain. After a minute of my face in his shoulder, it started to shake, and for a moment I thought I was annoying him. I pulled back, only to find him trying not to laugh. I snorted, smacking his shoulder with my un-injured hand and muttering a few choice words under my breath.

"I just," Jameson sighed out a laugh, "I cannot believe you messed up your wrist walking up the damn stairs." Every word was followed by a laugh, and I groaned again shaking my head and leaning away from him, like his humor in the situation was pushing me away physically. "I mean, the stairs, really?" 

I sighed, before standing and walking away from him. I held my left wrist gently in my right hand, as I walked to the counter.

"'scuse me, love?" The nurse behind the counter top looked up at me, looking annoyed, before asking me what I wanted. "Yes, right, anyway we can hurry this up? I've got to be on the job in-" I paused, turning my wrist carefully to check the time, "five hours." I made sure that the nurse could see my badge, as she grabbed the clipboard next to me.

"Ramirez? Lydia Ramirez?"

"Thank you," I muttered sarcastically, starting to walk back to Jameson when a man caught my eye.

While the man himself was interesting enough to look at, the part that caught my attention was the blood that poured from his nose no matter how he tried to stop it.

"How's it going mate?" I asked, reaching into my pocket and offering him the pack of tissues that I had. He thanked me, pulling out a few and pressing them to his nose before starting to clarify.

"I, uh, settled a friendly bet the hard way."

"Hmm." I looked him up and down, for other injuries, but came up with nothing. "I'm a Detective Inspector, anything I can help you with?"

The man was quick to answer, telling me that there was no harm or foul and just as I started to ask him another question the, helpful, nurse called my name. I nodded to the man, throwing a glance to Jameson and Kenai. I mouthed for him to stay put, before following the nurse that called my name back.

The nurse pointed out a bed for me to sit on, and attempted to make conversation as he took a look at my wrist, he was not successful. At every poke and prod to my wrist I hissed, trying not to pull away.

In the end, the nurse who never introduced himself put my wrist in a hard sided brace and told me to come back if the pain gets worse of if the swelling doesn't go down. I just nodded along, thanking him, before leaving the way I came in.

I swear, up down left and right I was only gone for maybe twenty minutes, but when I came back to the waiting room to get Jameson there was a smattering of cops and a few detectives holding a vague perimeter around the room. I panicked for a moment when I didn't see Jameson, before noticing him surrounded by a few cops looking startlingly uncomfortable. It took me a moment to realize why, and the second I did I moved so I was closer and in his line of sight.

Jameson was wearing a pair of my sweatpants, which I think he looks adorable in, but can look un-professional in any other situation. They are rolled about six times at the hips and yet they still drag the floor in the backs just a bit when he walks. Jameson also wears one of my sweatshirts, which seems to swallow him in all of the fabric.

The reason he looked so uncomfortable was because to me he's Jameson, my loving boyfriend and a wonderful man. But to all of these officers he's Jameson Reagan, son of the Police Commissioner.

I smiled at him, not wanting to interrupt, but wanting him to know I was there. Kenai pulled away, nudging past the two police officers and taking a seat to my immediate right. I pulled my phone from my pocket, dialing Danny and waiting for his response. I didn't have to wait long, but rather than replying, a hand tapped me on the shoulder.

"What the hell happened J?" Danny asked, motioning to the body and to his brother surrounded by cops.

I shrugged, "I don't know, I just walked out." I muttered, before looking to the body and realizing it was the man I had spoken to. "But I think we've got a case."

"Hmm." Danny just nodded, looking around the room. "Alright, I'll talk to the doc's, you-"

"I'll have a word with the doctors, you talk to Jameson." I nodded in his direction, wanting to ignore the look he gave me but responding to it anyways. "I don't want to make him uncomfortable."

"Gotcha, go on."

I didn't need to be told twice. I crossed the room with a disinterested glance, coming to a stop next to a pair of officers questioning the nurses who I assumed tried to save him. I told the officers they could go, and smiled at the nurses in a comforting way.

"Detective Inspector Jethro Howards, can you tell me what you know about the victim?"