Soon You'll Get Better

Three

"You're cooking?" Her voice was skeptical, but still as sweet as ever. He could imagine her: next to the nurse's station, her slim fingers holding her phone to her ear. She'd smile as she talked to him, raising her eyebrows and rolling her eyes.

"What? You don't think I could do it?" He returned, surveying the ingredients on the counter.

"If it's pasta? Yes. Anything else? No."

"It's pasta. But the rest is a surprise. I even made dessert!" He boasted, proudly looking at the chocolate orange cake he had made, waiting to be frosted. "It's one of your favorites."

"You?"

He could see her sexy smirk, the way she looked up through her eyelashes. She'd bite her lip and lick her canine. "Maybe."

There was a pause and muted talking, and then, "oh, honey, I gotta go. Airlift a patient. Should be home at the normal time, but plan a little later."

"Be careful."

"Always. Love you."

"Love you more."

"Love you most. Bye, Danny. See ya at home."

"Can't wait. Bye."

Good, he had told her he loved her. Just not to her face, which made him angry. Why didn't they let him see her? Just for three seconds? Just long enough to say I love you.

"Reagan," Danny answered his phone, hoping it wasn't his work. Hopefully it was a coworker of Linda's, telling him she'd be later than usual. Then... why wasn't she calling him? Certainly she could make a sixty second call or send a two second text, couldn't she?

"Is this Detective Danny Reagan, Linda Reagan's husband?"

His throat felt dry. "Who's calling?"

"Doctor Rhodes."

"Is Linda okay?" She had to be okay. She just had to be okay.

"I'm afraid not. Could you please come down to Saint Benjamin's?"

"What's wrong? Is she okay? Tell me she's okay!"

"She's alive, but we really need you down here."

He remembered the fear he felt driving to the hospital. He had never been that scared in his life, not even in Fallujah or when Linda had been shot. He closed his eyes, trying not to replay the situation over and over again in his head.

"How bad?"

"She has a lot of injuries, Detective. Multiple cracked ribs, a fractured clavicle, a spiral fracture in the left radius, a compound fracture in the left wrist, a fractured right femur, and fractured coxal bone."

"Fractures, that's like- that's okay, though, right? Sprained bones."

"No, fractures are broken bones. She also had a lot of internal bleeding. One of the cracked ribs punctured a lung, and her spleen and one kidney ruptured. She also has a head injury, leaving her with a concussion and the need for vision correction. She also suffered some brain damage, but we're not entirely sure of the extents yet."

He nodded, not really understanding everything. High school anatomy was a long time ago, and stuffed into a small 'never-Gonna-need-this-again' box.

"Detective, her condition is not exactly stable... I'm sorry, but we don't expect her to make it through the night."

"Can I see her?" He asked as though he hadn't heard the last sentence.

"I'm sorry, but she's in the ICU. No one can see her except the doctors and nurses."

"But I'm a cop." As if that had some leeway....

"I'm sorry. Once she's stable enough, I'll bring her to see you. The staff has called the rest of your family; I suggest you sit down and wait for them."

"Likely," Danny whispered, still focused on the stain on the floorboard. "She's likely." He looked up so fast, he could've given himself whiplash. "She's likely!" He yelled at the family and Baez.