Lost and Found

Chapter Sixty-One

Nick's POV

"Nick, you've gotta calm down. You're going to get us kicked out," Hank warned me. I was vigorously pacing in the waiting room of the hospital, waiting for news on Trubel's condition. I looked up and noticed a worried look from the receptionist at the desk; she looked like she was two seconds away from picking up the phone and calling security. Hank was right.

I stopped pacing and sat down in the empty chair next to Hank.

"I know, I just-" I began, but I didn't know how to finish. "It's Trubel."

"She's been to the hospital before," Hank said. He sounded like he was trying to be reassuring.

"Yeah, remember how that went?" I said sarcastically. She had almost gotten kidnapped by Black Claw...

"But she was fine in the end," Hank reminded me.

"She wasn't shot three times last time," I snapped.

Suddenly, Roy walked in with one of those to-go containers from coffee shops that were meant to carry multiple drinks.

"Oooh," Hank approved. "Stumptown. Fancy."

"Yeah, well," Roy started explaining. "I got coffee from the place downstairs, but I spilled it and got emotional about how my life was falling apart, so a nice old lady bought us pity coffees."

"That's quite the story," Hank noted.

"Oh, it gets worse," Roy told us. "She was here because she has cancer. She has six freaking months to live, and she buys me pity coffee," Roy announced frustratedly. Roy finally handed us our cups and asked me. "How're you doing?"

"Fine," I said emotionlessly.

"Hey, it takes a real man to cry," Roy informed me. "At least, that's what the lady who bought our coffee said."

Hank laughed lightly. I tried to laugh too, but it ended up being more of a scoff.

Suddenly, a doctor walked in and asked us to come speak with him. They never took you away from the presence of others to tell you good news...

"Well?" Roy blurted out. "And don't leave out any details!" he yelled before the doctor could open his mouth.

"Okay," he said. "Theresa lost a lot of blood. More than 70% of her total," he specified, probably for Roy's sake. "In addition, there was a lot of damage to her chest area in general, her organs, her ribs," he listed. "It took 90 minutes just to stabilize her, and then she went into surgery. We had to induce a coma to prevent any more damage from being done."

"What does that mean for her condition, now?" I asked.

"The surgery went well. We've done all we can do, and now it's a waiting game. Theresa isn't able to breathe on her own, and we're going to have to monitor her closely to see when it's appropriate to wake her from her coma," the doctor explained to us.

"When do you think she can wake up?" Hank asked, since I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"In all honestly," the doctor began. "I'm not sure. As police officers, I'm sure you're all familiar with the kill zone."

He was right. In the academy, we're all trained to take four shots at center mass at people we're trying to 'neutralize.' Andre wasn't a cop, but his three shots at center mass, dubbed the kill zone, usually killed people.

"Yes," I said.

"Well, then you know how deadly those gunshots are particularly in that region of the body," the doctor explained. "It's already a miracle that she's alive, and I don't just throw that word around."

I'm sure we all looked horrified, so the doctor made an attempt to comfort us. "But she's made it this far. We'll have to see how she responds to treatment before we can estimate how long she'll be under. Do you have any other questions?"

I said, "No. Thank you, doctor." He nodded and walked away.