Blue Blood Runs Thick

The Walls Come Down

MY POV
School the weeks following Mariah's death were rough, especially the day after; I felt like everyone was staring at Nicky and I and silently judging us, even though Shawn assured us that they weren't. But, rumor in this school gets around faster than the plague, I have no doubt that everyone knows Nicky and I were up there with her, and these kids are vicious. So, who knows what they're saying? And plus, it didn't feel right not meeting up with Mariah before classes got started, and walking to our first class together. She left a huge impact on the school, and the school as a whole isn't the same. There's a hole in my heart and everything seems too quiet. I never thought I'd miss her morning dumb jokes. Mariah's death was mentioned in every one of my classes, mentioning what an amazing person she is and how she'll be dearly missed. During the morning announcements, Principal Knight said that the guidance counselors were available to anyone who wanted to talk about Mariah committing suicide and how they felt about it or how it was affecting them, but, because our parents insisted, Nicky and I had no choice but to miss our second period and talk to one of the counselors; once a week separately, once a week together. Today was our first separate one. I was going to be meeting with Ava Hawkes. As I was walking to class, I cursed my parents under my breath. What good is talking about all of this going to do? If I never stop talking about it, I will never stop crying and I will never move on. I'm just doing this to get them off of my back. I walked to her office, and knocked on the door very reluctantly. This is gonna be the longest 45 minutes of my life. "Eliza. Come on in." She said as she opened the door, smiling way too big for someone who was going to be counseling someone who just lost their best friend to suicide. I didn't not want to cross from the hall into that room. More than anything I wanted to turn around and book it. But I knew that was the stupidest idea I have ever had. So I walked into the room and sat in the chair. I crossed my legs as tight as possible, and I couldn't seem to sit still. "So, tell me how you're feeling today." She said as we sat down. I scoffed and rolled my eyes. How the hell does she think I'm feeling? "I feel like I want to crawl into a hole and hide from the world." I said, point blank. How else could anyone possibly expect me to feel? It happened not even a week ago. I'm still trying to accept the fact that I will never see my best friend again, I'm still knee deep in grief. She looked at me with a sad look, pity plain in her eyes. Throughout this entire journey called life, the one thing that I will not stand for is pity. I'm not some damsel in distress, I'm not a victim. Mariah's family were the victim. And I guess, in a way, she was, too. And it won't help me if people treat me like I'm made of glass or paper. That will only make things worse. I sat up straight and kept my guard up. My parents should know that I'm not going to just open up to this women and pour my feelings out to her right away, if at all. It's none of her business, and she can't possibly know what I'm going through and how I'm feeling. So, there's no way she could help me. "Look, Eliza. I know that it's going to be a long and difficult process getting over Mariah's death-" "You people act like Mariah died of natural causes, like it's something that I should have seen coming. Well, she killed herself, she didn't die of natural causes. And don't you think I feel terrible enough that I couldn't see that it was all coming to this?!?" I said, way too loudly. I hate myself for not seeing that she was spiraling out of control. I thought I knew her really well, better than anyone else. But, apparently not. She was in so much trouble and I had no idea. Ava let out a sigh. "So, you feel responsible for her killing herself. Is that what I understand?" "Wow. Draw that conclusion all on your own, did you?" she pursed her lips and looked down. And now I felt like crap. I know I'm upset, but the guidance counselor is the last person I should be taking it out on. I know she wants to help, and I know I should let her try. I'm just really not in the mood. "Mrs. Hawkes-" "Ava, please." She said sweetly. If she would fight back just a little, I wouldn't feel as bad. Like, tell me I'm being a jerk and need to chill. "Ava. I know this sounds weird but, don't take any of this personally. I'm not one to just pour my heart out and tell you everything I'm feeling. I'm the very definition of a closed book. Well, next to my father, anyways." She crossed her legs at the ankles, joined her hands together, leaned her elbows on her knees, and leaned into me. "I understand. But, keeping it in isn't healthy." I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. The thing is, I don't keep it all in. I do talk to someone, but it's always a one-way conversation. I'll still tell him things that I won't tell anyone else. I opened my mouth to speak but, no words came out. "Yes?" Ava asked, softly trying to push me. "I don't exactly, keep it all in." "So, you do talk to someone?" I felt like an absolute nut. I felt really uncomfortable, and the anxious feeling slowly rising. I tell her I talk to my dead uncle, she'll have me committed faster than I can blink. "Sort of." I mumbled. She simply looked at me; saying so much with just a look. I don't even know how to go about saying this. I talk to my Uncle about it. The one who died almost 3 years ago. She'll probably tell me that I'm making things worse by doing that and I have to move on from losing him to. "My Uncle Joe." I told her. I cannot believe I just said that out loud. "Wonderful. Maybe you'd like to bring him next time?" She said hopefully. "I can't." I said in a barely audible whisper. Believe me, I wish I could. There's nothing I wouldn't do or say to have him be by my side through this. She tilted her head in confusion. "Why?" She asked. I looked down to the ground, brushed a piece of hair behind my hair, and cried. What I was about to say, I haven't said out loud yet. It's been 2 and a half years, and I've never uttered the words out loud. And I don't want to, but, it's time. "Because he's dead." I said through the tears. My body was shaking. I don't remember the last time I verbally told someone that, someone who may have not already known. Thank God I don't have to say it to Shawn. He was at Uncle Joe's funeral. "Eliza. I'm so sorry." She said softly. I know people are sorry, and I appreciate that. But, it doesn't matter how many people are sorry or how sorry they are. It doesn't change a thing and it won't bring him back "How do you speak to him, then? If you don't mind me asking." I coughed, steady myself somewhat, looked up to her and said, while still crying, "He's buried a few minutes from my house. I talk to him. Everyday." I shifted uncomfortably. Why I just told her that, I have no idea. I mean, I haven't even told my own family that, no one knows I do that except her now. Maybe I'm hoping It'll get me out of here quicker. She leaned back in her chair. "Ah." She said slowly and casually, like it was totally normal for someone to talk to their dead Uncle. "I know, you think I'm crazy." I rolled my eyes. I could tell she was just figuring out what to say and how to say it. Her face told me that she thought I was completely insane. I won't be surprised if she calls my Mom and recommends that she has me evaluated. But, I'm not crazy, okay? It helps me deal, and it makes me feel like he's still here. As long as it helps me, so what? "No, I don't think you're crazy." I looked at her, surprised. She's either as "crazy" as I am, or she's lying through her teeth. "Do you plan on going to visit Mariah?" She asked expectantly. I shrugged my shoulders "Someday." I won't be able to visit her until I stop being mad at her. If I went right now, it would only make my blood boil even more. I'm not in a good place right now. "I see. How did your Uncle die?" I don't see what that has to do with anything, how it's relevant or why it mattered. I so badly wanted to tell her to look it up, because she so easily could. All she would have to do is Google Detective Joseph Reagan and it would pop right up. "He was a Detective. He was killed in a drug bust gone horribly wrong." I told her, avoiding eye contact. Everytime just think about how he died, it makes me so angry. Because those morons were so adamant on keeping their money and their drugs, the world lost one of the best people ever. They were so selfish and stupid and those are people that I will never forgive. "So, you aren't mad at him?" I looked at her. Has she lost her mind? I'm already pissed off at Mariah, I should be mad at my Uncle for dying? As if he meant to do it? Mariah did this on purpose, Joe did not. Joe died trying to do good. Mariah died because she was an idiot. I don't know what she's trying to get at here, If she keeps going down this road, I will get up and leave. You think I'm kidding, I'm so not. I am this close to storming out of here, I don't want to deal with this anymore. "What? No, I'm not mad at him. Why would I be mad at him?" I asked, irritated. "You have no reason to be mad at him. But you are mad at Mariah?" She asked. "Of course I'm mad at Mariah." I said, trying to keep my voice level. "Why are you mad at Mariah and not your Uncle?" I leaned in and said, very seriously, "My Uncle died doing what he loved, trying to make a difference in the world. Mariah died because she's a coward and didn't want to face life anymore. She gave up. Uncle Joe did everything but." It's as simple, and as complicated as that. "She isn't here to defend herself." I scoffed so hard it actually hurt my throat. That's exactly why I'm mad at her, because she isn't here! What part of that isn't anyone getting? Like, am I speaking some undead language that no one knows? She wouldn't have to defend herself if none of this had happened. I'm allowed my feelings regardless. "Defend herself? Are you serious?" "I'm just saying-" "No. You don't say. We're done here." And I stormed out. That was the last straw, I can't believe she tried to turn this, my grief and anger, on me. As my fault. It felt like she was blaming me for being angry and hurt. Well, it's not, it's Mariah's and anyone in my position would be mad. I ran down the hall so that I was far enough away from Mrs. Hawkes office. I felt like everything was rushing by me in a blur. There is no way in hell that I am ever doing that again. I don't care what my parents do or say, I am never walking back into that office so long as I live. I leaned up against the wall, and it was hard to breathe. I slid down against the wall, brought my knees up to my chest, and buried my face in my hands. I couldn't cry, but I didn't want to face anyone, either. The last hour came back in flashes; me explaining to someone that I barely know that I speak to my dead Uncle, me realizing how freaking much I hated Mariah right now. Me realizing how incredibly stupid and selfish I was being. And me not caring at all. If I hadn't promised my parents that I would never ditch school again, I'd totally book it. The school bell rang, but I didn't move. I heard the hustle and bustle of kids going to their other classes and putting stuff in their lockers. I could feel eyes staring down at me, naturally. I'd stare at someone if they were doing the same thing I'm doing. I would seriously consider looking into homeschooling if your parents weren't your teachers. That wouldn't exactly work for me. Only seconds later, I felt arms on my shoulder; and I looked up and saw Shawn. "Hey, Eliza. You okay?" He asked me. I nodded my head. He grabbed my hands and stood me up. "No, your not." He told me. I scratched my head. "Just the stupid guidance counselor." I said. It's really not a big deal, I'm just being dramatic and I admit that. "You want I should come over after school?" He asked me (Oh, just FYI, he's only like 5 months older than me. Just thought you'd want to know.) I shook my head. "I can't, today. Nicky and I are gonna plan out what to do for my parents anniversary." I really, really wanted him to come over, more than anything and just hang out with him. He's been my rock through this and I've been his. But, my parents anniversary is really coming up fast and we've gotta figure out what we're going to do. "Okay, well. I'll see you later, alright?" "Okay." I smiled and we kissed goodbye. After that, the rest of the day still passed somewhat uncomfortably, but I have no doubt it would have been worse if Shawn hadn't calmed me down. People were still giving me looks, but I did my best to ignore them. When lunch came along, Nicky wouldn't come near me. She acted like I was the plague; she's just pissed at me because I'm pissed off at Mariah and she's not. Her glares were piercing and it made the hair on my arms stand up. Regardless, I'm not changing my mind and I'm not backing down. She's allowed her opinions, I'm allowed mine. We're allowed to grieve and get through this the way we want. And if she's wants to act childish and be mad at me for how I'm choosing to, so be it. "You and her will make up." Shawn assured me. "Of course we will. I'm too much like my Dad, and she's too much like Aunt Erin." Even though I wasn't sure, this time. She's never been so mad at me and I've never been so annoyed with her. "You're both stubborn as hell." He said, smirking. "Oh, shut up." I said, slapping his
shoulder and chuckling. I knew he was totally right. Nicky and are both so pig-headed. But, my entire family is. We just have a hard time admitting when we're wrong and, especially Nicky and I, we have a hard time apologizing first. He just smiled at me, cuz he knew I knew he was right. After school was over, Nicky and I took the bus to her house (both of our parents had a late night, surprise surprise, but, we couldn't risk my Mom or Dad walking in and seeing Nicky and I planning an anniversary surprise for them.) "So, how did your session today go?" Nicky asked on the way home. She was trying to be as polite as possible but, you could definitely tell that she's still mad at me. As long as both of us try, that's what counts. By the tone of her voice, I could tell that her session went about as well as mine. I seriously don't know what my parents and her Mom were thinking when they set this up. "Let's just say that I won't be surprised if my parents get a phone call from Mrs. Hawkes begging to never have to do that again." I explained. And I'm not kidding, either. I gave that poor girl hell, and I should apologize. "What did you do?" She chuckled, clearly not surprised. "I totally blew up." "Well, that's more than what I did." She told me. I raised an eyebrow at her. Does she mean that she actually behaved herself? Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Nicky can control her temper a million times better than I can. She looked over at me, a little ashamed. "I didn't say a word to my counselor." She chuckled. I chuckled with her. Of course she didn't. That had to have mad for an excruciating 45 minutes. "You are so your mother's daughter. That silent treatment of your guy's is crippling." "Don't start with me. You and your father have a temper that could make a grown man cry." "Oh, bite me." I said. "See?" I rolled my eyes. My Dad's temper absolutely could bring a Navy Seal to their knees. Hell, he could do that with just a single look. I'm really not that scary. Feisty, yes. But not scary. "Hey, you still have that nightmare?" She asked me seriously. I know she's just concerned and that she cares about me, but I just wished she hadn't brought it up. I feel like if I don't stop talking about it, it won't go away. "Yeah, and that feeling is still as strong as ever. Stronger today, even. But, at this point, I'm just ignoring it. It's been two weeks, it's obvious that nothing is going to happen." I told her. It's clearly just my anxious mind coming up with gruesome scenarios when I'm asleep. "Knock on wood." She mumbled. God, no. Don't say that. I feel like if you say knock on wood it has a better chance of jinxing things than when you just say it out loud. Literally every time I have said that after saying something out loud, it happens anyways! So, I've given up. We walked into her apartment, and first did our homework, which took about 2 and a half hours. It was now 5:30. After we finished, Nicky brought out a fruit bowl (there is literally not one ounce of junk food in her house. Good thing I prefer fruit, anyways.) Now that we're done with our homework, we can get to the funny thinking, planning. I've already got a couple ideas of what I want to do, but, they're very rough and definitely need to be smoothed and get a second opinion. "Okay, now that my brain is officially fried." She sighed as she plopped down next to me. "We have to think some more." I said, finishing her sentence for her. "Yeah." She agreed. "So, I was thinking, would you and Aunt Erin be able and willing to come help me make a really nice, romantic dinner for my parents?" I know that doesn't seem like much but, my parents are both pretty simple people and don't necessarily like extravagant stuff. This will mean a lot to them. "Yeah, but I see one flaw in that plan." "What?" Nicky looked at me, plainly surprised that I couldn't see what she saw. I totally don't understand what she's saying, what's wrong with it? I mean yeah, I'm not the best of cooks but, that's why I'm bringing them in, for reinforcements. "You just gonna stay upstairs while your parents get bizay?" She laughed. Oh, God. She is so nasty! Obviously I thought about it and I have a plan, but did she really have to bring it up? I so don't want to think about my parents getting bizay. And that's another thing, why can't people just say sex? It's not a bad word. "No! I'm gonna ask Shawn if I can stay the night." "Oh, so you're going to be gettin bizay?" Nicky asked, both of us blushing. She. Is. The. Worst. Okay, it's not like the thought didn't cross my mind but, still. Way too soon. Yes, we've known each other for a long time, I am just so not ready for that. "No. It is way too soon for that." I pointed out. She nodded her head in acknowledgement. It is absolutely time for a subject change, so I moved on to the next part of the plan. "Oh, and I ordered them something, It'll be here the day before their anniversary. It's a painting of a tree that says Family is what happens when two people fall in love. Linda and Danny Reagan. Est. 1995. " "That is so cute. How did you get the money for it?" Nicky asked. "I took money from my savings." I told her. She looked at me, sad. "But, you're saving up for a prom dress." She said. Giving my parents a small gift when they gave me life; when they provide food, clothes and shelter? Or buying a prom dress? They don't even come close. Don't get me wrong, I want a really nice prom dress but, this is way better. "I know. But, showing my parents how much I love them and how much their example of a good, strong marriage has blessed my life is more important." "Yeah, that must be nice." Nicky mumbled. Her parents are separated, and are in the process of getting a divorce. I scooted closer to her and put my arm around her. I feel bad for saying that, I shouldn't have. This divorce is killing her and I pretty much just rubbed salt deep into the wound. Nice one, Eliza. Real nice. "I'm so sorry, Nicky. I really am. You know I'm always here for you." She nodded. "Do you like my Dad?" She asked. I made that horse noise with my lips. If you ask my family about Nicky's Dad, especially the men, you'll get the same answer; that Jack is a skuzball and Aunt Erin shouldn't have married him. One thing that Dad told me? Is that Uncle Jack doesn't want joint custody. But, I swore on my life that I wouldn't say a word to Nicky. And, that's a promise that I can keep, because that would kill her. But, I feel like there's a lot more to the story. And, maybe it's naive of me, but I'm just trying to keep an open mind. It takes two to destroy a marriage and I don't believe that Aunt Erin is completely innocent in this whole thing. "I do like Uncle Jack. But, I know that there's more to the story than either of us know." And I truthfully do like Jack; he's a really funny guy, he's an ameture magician and he can be super sweet. None of us see him much anymore, because he knows that if he came around here, he would either receive a beat down or eat led. I can't imagine what Nicky must be going through, and I pray to God I never have to know.
TIME SKIP TWO WEEKS
FRANK'S POV
I was at dinner with a couple of my friends. My friend, Monsignor Walter, was in the process of telling another one of his terrible jokes. "A turtle is taking a walk in Central Park one night, and he gets mugged by a gang of snails. Now, the investigating detective asks the turtle, you know, 'what can you recall?' and the turtle pauses, looks confused, and said, 'I don't know. It happened so fast.' " We all started laughing, but more because of how stupid the joke was, rather than how funny it was. Because it wasn't funny. He has the worst Dad jokes of anyone I know. But, it can be entertaining. "You know, Walter, it's nice that your jokes are always clean. It'd be nice if they were funny, too." Our friend John said. "What's not funny about that?" He asked, surprised that we didn't enjoy it. "Everything." I told him. "The set up, the punch line, the whole thing." Our friend Lucas commented. He is quite possibly the only one I know who actually finds his jokes funny. I don't know anyone else that does. The waiter came over and asked "How was your meal, tonight?" I sighed and said "Toughest piece of meat I've ever had, Carl. What did you do, run it over on your way to work?" My friends and I all chuckled. Truthfully, I could barely cut it with the knife. It was disappointing, because this restaurant is always on top, reason I picked it. It's one of my favorites. "I'm sorry it was not to your likening, Commissioner. Um, may I offer another round of Appletinis on the house?" Carl said. "Oh, thank you, Carl. We'll tip the full 5%." I said, grabbing the bill. Never can say no to Appletinis. And I always tip at restaurants, it's the majority of these people's income and they deserve it regardless. "Hey, wait a minute, Frank. What are you doing?" John said. "You're not paying." Walter added. I put my hands up and said "I got it." I may have a little ultimatum to inviting them out tonight and paying for their meal. That and we all like to take turns paying. Very rarely do we go dutch. "Well, thank you." They all said. "Um, the atrium at John J. College is being dedicated in memory of Joe. It's a pretty big deal. The ceremony's Thursday." I said, asking them to come without asking. I don't know what it is about me, I don't like flat out asking. It makes me uncomfortable. I don't like asking for anything, whether that be favors or something like this. In my personal life, that is. I seldom ask for favors, but I have no problem asking for anything else in my job. This is a very important day, they all knew Joe since he was a baby, Walter buried him. It's just as important for them to be there as anyone else. I want as many people who were part of Joe's life there. It's what he would have wanted. "I'll be there." Lucas assured me. "Done." Walter said. "Absolutely. " John said. I smiled, my heart full of joy. I had a feeling they weren't going to say no. The day will be better and easier knowing that they're there. "Thank you." I said to them. Having as many family and friends there as possible will mean a lot to me, to my family. To Joe. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss him, that I don't think about him. I ordered him into harm's way, and he didn't come home. He was killed on my watch. And I live with that everyday. I like to think that Joe watches over us. I don't understand why he was taken from us, and it left a big mark on all of us. "Well, I better take off before the wife gets mad." Lucas said. "I gotta be up early. I should take off, too." John said. "Alright. We'll see you Thursday. Come on, Walter." I said. Walter and I walked out of the restaurant after saying goodbye to John and Lucas. The sun had already set, and my detail pulled up to drive me home. "I need a minute." I told them. I wanted to spend a little more time with Walter, he means a lot to this family; He buried my Mom, Betty, my wife, Mary, and Joe. Despite the bad this family has been through, we've experienced a lot of good. And one thing that Joe taught me? Make everyday of your life count. I sighed and handed him a cigar. "Life is good, Walter." "Where did you get these?" He chuckled. "Don't ask." I smiled. We lit them and began to puff. I was just taking in the night and enjoying the peace when I noticed a dark sedan right across from us, and they began to pull up to us fast. I didn't like what I saw, but I couldn't tell you why. Then, it all happening so fast, I saw a gun, grabbed Walter and knocked him to the ground, and took several bullets in the shoulder. The pain was white hot, it had been so long since I've been shot, I forgot how painful it is. Walter and I both hit the ground. I remember hearing one of my detail say:  "10-13, 10-13! Corner of Beaver and Williams in Manhattan. I repeat, 10-13. This is car one. It's Reagan, the PC'S been shot!" and then I blacked out.
MY POV
Nicky and I had finally figured out every detail of my parents anniversary, and now we've just gotta get Aunt Erin on board to help me with the cooking. Which I'm sure won't be hard. Don't get me wrong, I'm super glad we got that out of the way. But there was this huge pit in my stomach, twisting it into knots. I'm not kidding this time, something is really wrong. And I don't know who or what. When Aunt Erin walked in and I saw her face, my heart dropped into my stomach, the wind was knocked out of me. I knew it, someone's been hurt. "Aunt Erin, what is it?" I asked, scared to death of what she was gonna tell me. She took in a deep breath and said "Grab your stuff, girls." Seriously? Just tell us what's going on! We're not children anymore and we've been through hell and back, we can handle it, whatever it is. "Mom, tell us what's going on." Nicky demanded. I'm not doing anything or going anywhere until I know what's up. Aunt Erin sat down on the coffee table in front of us, crossed her legs, and said "Your grandfather's been shot." very blatantly, a single tear running down her cheek. You know when you try to take in a deep breath, but you your chest is so tight you seemingly can't seem to breath at all? That was me. I was not expecting that at all. How the hell did he get shot? He's got like 24/7 security. He doesn't go anywhere without his dental, he's like always safe. "Oh. My. God. Are you kidding?" I whispered. "No, Eliza. I am not kidding." Aunt Erin said, clearly irritated. Okay, I didn't literally mean kidding, that's just a thing people say when they're in shock. Isn't it? Well, at the very least, it's what I say when I'm in shock. Nicky and I were not in the mood to argue, or to get Aunt Erin in a pissier mood than she was already in, so, we quickly packed up our bags, and followed Aunt Erin out to the car. No, why is this happening? We've already lost Joe. I swear to god if we lose Grandpa it will send us all spiraling downhill. He keeps this family sane and, sometimes, from falling apart. I have no clue what we would do without him. No idea how how Pops would deal. The drive over to the hospital, I just kept thinking about all the fun memories I have with Grandpa and what an amazing guy he is. How he's always, always there for anyone who needs them. He tells you what you need to know, not what you want to. He's the best guy and I'm so thankful to be his granddaughter. I'm absolutely terrified what this night is going to hold. And I do not want to see how it will end. We met up with the rest of the family at the hospital, and they all looked as pale as I did. "Mom. Dad." I called. They turned around and hugged me. "Hey, sweetie. It's okay." Was all Mom said. No, Mom. It is not okay. Grandpa's been shot! Everything is anything but okay. How is she being so positive? I really want to be, and I'll try. But with this family's luck, it's sort of hard. "Now that everyone's here, let's go get the update from the doctor." Pops said. Just then, the Doctor came out to us and began to walk us to his room. "You guys can all come see him. Not for long, though. He needs to rest." Yeah, good luck with that. The only thing that man can't handle, that he can't do, is nothing. He can't just sit around, he needs to be doing something, have something occupy his mind and time. It'll be a miracle if we can get him to rest after he's out of here. Thankfully here, he doesn't have a choice. "Hey, Doc. How is he?" Dad asked. "In a word: Lucky. He took some shots to his left arm and chest. Impacted the artery, but missed his heart." The doctor responded. Well, it's good that it missed his heart. But, if it hit an artery, he could still have a ton of internal bleeding. But, at least he has a chance of making Jr through this. "Is he talking? Is he sedated?" Dad asked. "Oh, he's talking, alright. He's already trying to talk his way out of here." She responded. I chuckled softly. Why am I not surprised in the least bit? This family absolutely hates hospitals (except Mom, obviously. But, she still hates being a patient). I believe that people can heal better in the comfort of their own home versus a hospital. "How long before he gets to go home?" Aunt Erin asked. "We'll hold him for two days, minimum. I wanna keep him under observation, make sure there's no pulmonary involvement." "But, he's gonna be okay, though?" Pops asked. "He's in remarkable shape, and, as I said, very lucky." She told us as we approached his room and she gestured us in. We passed some cops guarding his door. Thank God. Maybe God really is watching over this family. This could have gone a completely opposite way, and he would be in the morgue. He's got some sort of angel watching over him. Thanks, Joe. Aunt Erin approached him the fastest. "Hey, Dad." She whispered, gently kissing him on the cheek. He was pale, his eyes were sunken in, and you could tell that the pain medicine they gave him was doing it's job; his eyes were half open, and he was groggy. He also had oxygen tubes up his nose. He looked so... Vulnerable. Weak. He was high off his butt. "Hey." He said weakly, waving his hand weakly. "I'm gonna be fine. Promise." He reassured us as we all gathered around his bed. He's the one the who's been shot. We should be the ones telling him that's it going to be okay. Mom rubbed his left arm, with Dad right by the foot of his bed. Aunt Erin was on the right side, with Pops at the other foot, and Uncle Jamie was at the end, with Nicky and I closer to my father. I put one arm around her shoulder to comfort her, and she wrapped an arm around my waist to comfort me. "What can you tell us, Dad?" Dad asked, switching to full on Detective mode just like that. Whoever did this to Grandpa is dead meat, at my father's hands. Not gonna lie, I actually feel a little sorry for them, because in all reality, they have absolutely no idea what they've done. They have awoken the demon inside my Dad and will not back down until justice has been served. I just hoped he wouldn't overstep his boundaries and get himself into trouble. It's not worth it and Grandpa would chew him out like no other. "They ruined my best blazer." Grandpa said, clearly trying to lighten the mood, which he should have known wouldn't work. Mom, Pops and I gave courtesy chuckles. "About the shooter." Dad said seriously, not in the mood for any sort of humor. "I know, Danny." He closed his eyes, probably trying to replay the whole thing in his head; my grandfather has a photographic memory, which I am slightly jealous of. We all watched him in anticipation, and Mom moved over by Pops. They probably have him so drugged up that his head is pretty foggy. I wouldn't be surprised if we didn't get a straight answer from him for a few days. Which Dad won't like. "I don't know much." He sighed. "Dark Sedan. I'm sure my guys got the make. Shotgun, obviously." He said, rolling his eyes. He pointed to the gauze on the right side of his neck and said "This one was a flyer. Most likely a sawed off shotgun because, um, a blast came from inside the car. I didn't see the shooter." He said, frustrated. "Think for a second, Dad." Uncle Jamie whispered. "Oh, I am thinking, son." Grandpa told him. I so badly wanted to say guys! Maybe later. I really don't think that now is the best time to interrogate him, not even hours after he was shot. He's pumped full of drugs, he's probably still high on adrenaline and still trying to process what happened. I can imagine that being shot isn't fun for anybody, even if it's not their first time. Which I know it wasn't his. "Dad, was he white, black, clean-shaven, beard? Can you remember anything?" Dad asked. Unfortunately, or fortunately, however you choose to look at it, he never clocks out. "What happened to Walter?" Grandpa asked, clearly concerned, sad eyes. "He's fine. A sprained wrist from breaking his fall." The doctor reassured him. It startled us, because no one had noticed that she was still at the door. I thought she had left. "Good. I'd just never forgive myself if anything happened to Walter. Maybe, doc, you could just, check on Walter?" He asked, closing his eyes. One thing I've always admired about him, but I also think is a weakness, is that he always puts others first, always thinks about other people before he thinks about himself. And that can be good or bad. "Dad, can you just try to remember anything?" "He's still in some shock." The doctor informed my father. He glared at her and sighed in frustration. I get it, he wants to find the guys that did this to Grandpa. But, there's 35,000 other cops out there looking for these SOBs. Let's hope one of them is half as good as him. They'll be found and pay for what they did, I have absolutely no doubt. The doctor put her hand on Grandpa's leg and said, "Commissioner, I'm gonna take your family downstairs to get some of our wretched coffee, and then I'll be back to check on you." "We'll be right outside." Aunt Erin told him, kissing his forehead. Come on, Grandpa. Their coffee cannot be that bad. Of course, he's also used to the Irish blends he has at his place so, he's a bit spoiled and a lot picky. What are you gonna do? Nicky and I both kissed either of his cheeks. "Love you, Grandpa." Nicky said, her voice breaking uncontrollably. "Love you, too, sweetheart." She walked out. "I love you, Grandpa." I said, a single tear rolling down my cheek. He weakly lifted up his right hand and brushed it off with his thumb. I smiled and walked to the door. Pops saluted him, then left. I waited for everyone at the door. Dad looked at Grandpa, sadness, fear, and frustration all clearly plain in his eyes as Grandpa fell asleep. Dad turned to Uncle Jamie, glared, and said "These guys are toast." Before walking out. He was more determined than I've ever seen him. These guys were certainly in for it.
DANNY'S POV
I wasn't sure where I was headed, but I left the hospital and hopped into my car. The only thing I knew is that I was pissed off and relieved at the same time. Who would be stupid enough to try to take out the police commissioner? Thank God he didn't die, it would have killed us all. As I was driving, Jackie called me. "Hey, Jackie." "Reagan, how's your father?" "He's fine." "Good. Well, listen, I just got word that a whole bunch of people are meeting at One PP to come up with a game plan to catch this son of a bitch." "Great. You know what, why don't we meet there? Try to get an in." "Alright, see you soon." I knew I got in the car for a reason; I will do no good at the hospital, but out there? I could catch these son of a bitches. No, not could. I will catch them, they'll pay for what they did. I will take them out, come hell or high water. Thank God they're not good shots. Everytime something like this happens, it makes me wonder if there really is a God out there. Because first my brother, and then almost my father? If there is a God, why would he let this stuff happen? Why would he let bad things happen to good people? Every detective in New York is going to want on this case, but I deserve to be on it. Jackie and I pulled up at the same time and walked up together. "You know it's going to take a lot of convincing to get them to let you work this case, right?" "I don't give a damn what it takes." The elevator ride up was long and painful. I just needed to get to work. "Okay, listen up! Intel's flagging the Reynaldo Cartel in Central Mexico, for the attempt on the life of Commissioner Reagan. One of their big is coming to trial in a couple of weeks, and they've got a long history of revenge killings in their own country, in response to police action taken against them. Now, whether they're exploiting their methods as well as their material, that's the question. So. Narcotics, Gang Unit, JTTF (Joint Terrorism Task Force) that's at the top of your pile." I hated this piece of crap, and he'll probably be trying to take over Dad's place, but I needed to set that aside. I stepped out and made myself known by clearing my throat, with Jackie by my side. Everyone turned and stared at me, and I was unable to read their faces. "Detective Reagan. How's The Commissioner?" "He's good, he took some shots to the arm and chest, but he's out of the woods now." I assured everyone. It's not like he actually cares but, he'd look like a real ass if he didn't ask. As I said, I don't like this guy and I don't trust him. But, I've gotta be civil if I'm gonna get an in and, if Dad found out I disrespected him like that, he would tear me apart. "That's great news." he responded, sounding so bored and insincere it was a joke. "I interviewed him briefly, he wasn't all there. I'll go back tomorrow, and hopefully-" "Thank you, Detective. The prayers of every man and women of this department, are with you and your family." He said, cutting me off. Everyone was dismissed. I took in a frustrated breath. He's not going to give me an official spot, easily or if at all. Doesn't mean I won't work the case though, either or without permission. If I have to go off grid to help my father, you better believe I will. "Ho, hey. They located the car in Greenpoint." Jackie told me. "Great, see what you can find out." I asked her. "Yeah." She put her phone to her ear and walked away. "Commissioner?" I grabbed his arm as I approached him. "What is it, Detective?" I sighed, because I knew how this conversation would go, but I didn't care. I'm so pissed off and fired up right now. "I want in." "Uh, your father is in the hospital. That's where you're needed." "Come on, I'm not a doctor, I'm a Detective. I think I could so some good, here." I pointed out, annoyed and irritated. "I don't have the spot for you, or the time to discuss one." He told me. "Does this have something to do with some kind of beef between you and my dad?" He glared at me. "I didn't hear what you just said." Okay, maybe I shouldn't have said that, but, he is Dad's arch nemesis. And why not let me help out? I mean, not to brag but, I am pretty good. And if I were in his shoes, I would want to put the most royally pissed off detective possible working this case. Because that's the one who's not going to eat or sleep, he will spend every waking moment until these punks are behind bars! "Okay, look, I just wanna help. Please." I begged. "It's covered." He said, smiling at me and walking away. I sighed. Like I said, he may not let me help officially, but that doesn't mean I won't do my own work. I guess I'll just head back to the hospital for now. I walked out the door and Jackie looked at me, asking what happened without saying a word. I just shrugged my shoulders. "Listen, I'll keep trying to find us a way in. But, go take care of your family for now. I'll keep you in the loop." "Thanks, Jack." I know I don't say it or show it enough, but Jackie is a great cop and partner. She would fall on her sword for me. I guess all I can do is head back to the hospital and hope Jackie either finds us a way in or someone calls 911 with a guilty conscious. I'll swing by and get some food, maybe some whiskey. Lord knows we could use some whiskey.
MY POV
We were all in the waiting room, hoping Grandpa was getting some sleep. I was biting on my nails. I knew he was going to be okay, but it was still a shitty situation. Some druggy had already taken my Uncle from Nicky and I, and now someone tried to take our grandfather, one of the most amazing guys ever? I mean, why would God do this to our family? It kinda goes against what we're taught in church; that if we do what we're told, He'll protect us. I just feel like this family has had more than our share of loss. I know Grandpa isn't going to die but, you still get what I mean. But, to look on the bright side; Grandpa isn't going to die, Monsignor Walter is just fine. They're out of the woods and will be back to work in no time. We're getting Chinese take out tonight and that's always a good thing. We've got this. Mom put her arm around my shoulder, and touched one of my more fresh burns. I jumped, involuntarily, in pain, sucking air through my teeth. Yep, I had totally forgotten about that. "Oh, you okay?" She asked. "I'm fine." "It's gonna be okay, sweetie. He'll be fine." She assured me. "I know. Mine and Nicky's brains are still fried from homework." I told her. "That's the truth." Nicky said, rubbing her eyes. That part was not a lie in the slightest bit. "It's just so scary. Who would do this?" Nicky continued. "Well, unfortunately, your grandfather is the PC. He's got a lot of enemies." Uncle Jamie said. I looked up at him and glared. "Not helping." I told him. That made things worse. What's he trying to say; that this is gonna happen again? "It's true." He said. I bit my lip. I really hate it when the adults in my family are right. Which is a lot. I looked up and saw Dad walking towards us. I scooted to the end of the couch so he would have room to sit. He was carrying a brown paper bag; liquor, no doubt. Also, some coffee.Thank the good lord; I'll need some if I'm going to survive school tomorrow. "How's he doing?" Dad asked as he approached us. He quickly put his hand under my chin as he sat down. I smiled. "Well, we're hoping he's getting some sleep." Mom told him. "Hey, what's going on out there?" Uncle Jamie asked. "Well, they found the shooter's car in Greenpoint, but, nobody's claimed responsibility, yet. Intel's looking at some, uh, Mexican Cartel that's got a history of taking out public officials when one of their own gets pinched." Dad explained as he passed around the coffee, and apparently, some sandwiches he had hidden. "The Reynaldos?" Aunt Erin asked. "Yeah." Dad said, clearly surprised that she knew. "Special Prosecutor on that is a friend of mine, I'll lean on him in the morning." Aunt Erin told him. "Good." Dad responded. Pops stood up and said "Look, I know this is your father. But, take care not to overstep your boundaries, here." "Are there even boundaries in a situation like this?" I lowly mumbled. "Right?" Nicky mumbled to me. Then, Aunt Erin said the same thing I did. Then Pops said, "I'm just saying." "It's Erin, Grandpa. She wrote the book on By the Book." Dad said. Aunt Erin gave him a snarky look, and he just chuckled. I get where they're coming from but, the last thing they should do is get their hands dirty in this. Grandpa would kill them. "I'm supposed to just cruise the beat, and hope someone calls 911 with a guilty conscience?" Uncle Jamie asked, clearly annoyed. I know it's hard for him being a rookie and having to sit this out. He's going to be expected to just go about his day like any other and it won't be easy. "It is what it is, kid. Get used to it. Vincenzo squeezed me out, too." "Yeah, and I'll bet he'll have his feet up on Frank's desk by tomorrow." Pops commented. Vincenzo is Grandpa's Chief Of Police, and, simply put, he's an ass, and Grandpa's arch nemesis so, we were all pretty confused when he made him the Chief Of Police. But, fortunately or unfortunately, however you chose to look at it, Grandpa doesn't let stuff like that get in the way of him doing his job right and promoting those who deserve it. "Yeah, well, I got Jackie trying to find a way in so, maybe we'll get lucky." Dad said. "You need to watch yourself." Mom told Dad as she put her hand on his shoulder. "I will." He told her. He says he will but, he totally won't. "Our place is here tonight." Pops told us. He looked down inside a blue paper bag and smiled from ear to ear. "Oh, ho. Bless you." He said, pulling out some wine. "Yeah, I figured you'd like that." Dad chuckled. Nicky and I looked at each other and just laughed as Pops poured some into everyone's glass. In case you're wondering; no, we have never drank underage. We'd be morons to even try. I mean, look at the crowd we ate Sunday dinner with. The adrenaline from the night was starting to wear off, and I yawned such a huge yawn, and it gave me goosebumps. "To dodging bullets." He toasted. He took off his jacket, and we couldn't believe our eyes; he brought his gun! That is such a classic Reagan move. "Woah, Pops. You brought a gun?" Mom said. "Yeah." He told her casually. Because bringing a gun to a hospital is a total normal thing. Okay, well, to be fair, in this family, it is. "Talk about boundaries. It's a hospital." Aunt Erin told him. "And somebody tried to take my son's life tonight, and I don't know who or where he is." Pops said. I got up and walked over to the farthest window away, and looked out at the city. That dream I've been having; the gut wrenching feeling that something bad is going to happen. I thought it would be Dad or Uncle Jamie, not Grandpa. And to think, the day that I finally let my guard down and let it go, something happens. I chuckled because of how stupid I was being. I felt a pat on my back. "Hey, kid. You okay?" Uncle Jamie asked. "Yeah, I'm just exhausted." I told him. He scoffed. "You are such a liar." He said. My jaw dropped. "Rude." "It's true." He said, smiling at me. It was silent for a minute. I'll tell him what's going on, just not tonight. I'm tired of feeling like an attention whore. "Hey, I thought you told me everything?" he seemed a little hurt. "I do and I will. Just not tonight. Tonight, the focus is on Grandpa. Though I know this is probably hard on you. You and Dad cannot sit back and just watch things unfold." I told him. "Yeah, I guess it's in our blood." He hit my shoulder, smiling at me. "Oh, haha. Very funny." I said. "It was a compliment." He said sarcastically, even though I knew he meant it. "Let's go back." I said, rolling my eyes. When Uncle Jamie and I walked back, the doctor showed up. "Okay, we're gonna let him sleep, until about 6 or so. I suggest you all go home and do the same." We all got comfortable and opened our sandwiches. Dr. Fitzgerald is a good friend of our family, she should have known that we wouldn't leave. Not until he's coming with us. "We're good here." She said. "Thanks for everything, Doc." Pops said. Dr. Fitzgerald was clearly a little annoyed, but walked away anyways. "We're not leaving, but, you girls need to go and get some sleep for school." Mom said. "Aww, Mom." I whined. "Ey, no whining. Come on, do what your mother says." Dad said. I knew that right now wasn't a good time to argue with anyone. So, Nicky and I packed up our stuff. But, we won't be able to sleep tonight; all that will be on our minds is Grandpa and what may be going on with him. "I'll drive them. Which house am I bringing then to?" Uncle Jamie asked. "Probably mine. It's closer to the school." Aunt Erin said. "K. Let's go, girls." Uncle Jamie said. It was 1am when we drove home. Pretty much, the second we got into the car, Nicky went into the backseat and crashed. I took the front seat. "So, you gonna tell me what's going on?" He asked. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?" He tapped his chin, pretending like he was thinking. "Let me think. No." "I've just had this terrible feeling for like a month that something horrible is around the corner. But, I thought it would be you or Dad. Not Grandpa." "What made you think it would be us?" I took in a shuddered breath. "This inhumane nightmare I've been having every night. You and Dad get shot in the chest, point blank." I stared at the ground. "Oh, Eliza. " He said sympathetically. I just dropped the subject, I didn't need nor want sympathy. Now that the other shoe has dropped, my dreams should go back to normal, now. I won't miss the horrible anxiety and not wanting to leave the house for fear that all hell was about to break loose, I won't miss dreading going to sleep at night, yet fighting to stay awake throughout the day. And I can't wait for Grandpa to be home. I know it could have been so much worse, maybe Uncle Joe was with him tonight. When we arrived at Nicky's place, I was completely exhausted and couldn't wait to go lay down. "Hey, Nicky, you go in. Eliza will be in in a sec." Nicky raised her eyebrows at me. I shrugged my shoulders, telling her I had no idea what was going on. And I didn't. Nicky mouthed "good luck" then went inside. I turned to Uncle Jamie, and I really was nervous. Why did he want me to stay back? I took in a deep breath, and prepared myself. For what, I didn't know. He stared at me in silence for a few seconds. You know how when someone is staring at you, and you are doing everything in your power to look everywhere else but at them? Yeah. That was me. "Would you please just tell me why you wanted me to stay back? You're making me nervous!" I said, exasperated. "Good, then maybe you'll tell me why you jumped when your Mom put her arm around your shoulder." Damn it. I was seriously hoping everyone just shrugged that off. I should've known he wouldn't have. "Uncle Jamie..." "You can tell me, you know that. You've been really distant lately." "I know." "Hey, look at me." I looked up at him, and he was looking at me with hurt in his eyes. I used to tell him things before I would even tell my own parents sometime. But I know as soon as I tell Uncle Jamie, my parents will know. Will they hate me? Be mad at me? Especially since I've been doing this for about a month. "You really wanna know?" I asked. "Yes. I'm really worried about you." I sighed, preparing myself for the worst. All I did, was take off my jacket, and Uncle Jamie gasped. "Eliza. What the hell? Who did this to you?" I stared at him, disgusted and ashamed. He softly ran his fingers over the burns, and it took everything in me to not jump. His eyes went wide as realization hit him. "Was it you? Did you do this to yourself?" "Yes." I whispered. "Why?" I closed my eyes, and for the first time in who knows how long, I wanted to let myself cry. But I couldn't. "I feel like such a disappointment. To you. And Uncle Joe. You guys always saw something special in me." I looked up at Uncle Jamie, the tears, slowly but surely, flooding my eyes. "And whatever it was is gone. It slipped away from me so slowly I didn't even realize it. And I don't know what to do anymore." I said the last sentence in a whisper. "It's not gone. It's still there." He said, rubbing my hand with his thumb. "But, you do need to tell your parents." I nodded my head. "They're gonna hate me." I whispered. "They're not gonna hate you." "Yes, they are." I looked up at him. "I promised my Dad no more secrets." "And by fessing up to this, instead of them having to find out another way, you'll be keeping that promise. I swear." He said. I hugged him he hugged me back, patting my back. "I love you so much, Uncle Jamie." "I love you, too, Eliza. So much." He said. When we let go, he said "Come on, let's go." He told me. We drove back to the hospital, my anxiety at a Max. I went through about a million different ways on how to tell them, but nothing was coming to mind. I guess I'll just let whatever comes out of my mouth come out and go from there. We got back to the hospital, and Uncle Jamie asked a nurse if there was a private room we could talk in. She directed us into a private room. "Wait here, I'll go get them."
DANNY'S POV
I was so irritated that no one was going to let me help find the sons of bitches who did this to my father. But, Jackie is working to find a way to get us in so, hopefully, we'll get lucky. I could tell Linda was starting to get tired, so, I had her lay her head down on my shoulder. "This guy is gonna be caught." She reassured me. "I know. I just wanna be the one to catch him." "Well, stay here. At least for the night." She asked. "I will." I told her. It was driving me nuts and making me fidgety, just sitting around in the backseat, so to speak. But, I knew I needed to be here tonight. Hopefully, tomorrow, I'll be back in the game. I looked up and saw Jamie walking towards us. That was quick. "Hey, Jamie. Did you speed or something?" Grandpa asked. "No, nothing like that. Um, Danny, Linda. I need you guys to follow me." Linda groaned and asked "Why?" "Could you just trust me?" He asked. I squinted my eyes. What was he getting at? His poker face sucked, and there was clearly something going on bugging him. I'm slightly frightened to find out what was wrong. Linda and I looked at each other. We shrugged our shoulders, got up, and followed him. We followed him into one of the empty rooms. I let Linda go in front of me, and when we entered, Eliza was standing in the room, looking nervous as hell. "What's going on here?" I asked. "We made it all the way to Erin's house, and Eliza told me that she's been keeping something from you guys, which she felt super guilty about because, apparently, she promised Danny no more secrets. So, she made me turn around." Eliza looked taken aback. Clearly, they hadn't discussed what Jamie had said.
MY POV
I looked at Uncle Jamie, doing my best to hide the shock. Did part of our conversation happen that I don't remember? He dragged this secret out of me. Where was he getting at? "Is that true, Eliza?" Mom asked. I hadn't realized until that moment that I had been staring at the ground. I looked up and nodded. My throat felt closed. "So, what is it?" Mom asked. I looked at Uncle Jamie, my eyes begging him to not make me do this. I could already see my parents faces; totally mortified. "Go ahead. It's okay." He said, nudging me encouragingly. Not what I was hoping for. I did the same thing I did in the car; I slid off my jacket. And, sure enough, Mom gasped and took a step back. Dad put his hands on his hips, glaring, looking like he was about to murder someone. As Mom came up to me and was examining my burns, she asked "Honey, who did this to you?" I didn't answer. I couldn't get any noise to escape my lips. "Well?" Dad asked. "Well..." I gently repeated. I looked at Uncle Jamie again. He nodded encouragingly. I decided my best bet was to get it done and over with. So, I straightened up, looked my parents dead in the eye, and said "I did. I did this to myself." The air in the room got heavy, and I couldn't read my parents at all. I expected Dad to lose it, and for Mom to cry. But, I was wrong. They both remained super calm. I think that actually made me more frightened than if they had reacted the way that I had predicted. "Why would you do this to yourself?" Mom asked. "The truth?" I asked rhetorically. "No, lie to us. Just like you have been." Dad growled. He looked so angry and so hurt. God, I hate myself. "Because... I was giving myself such a mental battle, I... I needed something to take my mind off of the mental pain." I explained. "So, you do this?" Dad asked, pointing at my arms. I know they don't understand, but I felt that I had no other choice. Dad shook his head in clear frustration and disappointment. Thanks a lot, Uncle Jamie... Mom, her eyes looked blank. She was clearly in shock. I couldn't tell what Dad was feeling; he kept staring at me, his lips pursed together, hands on hips, shaking his head. He was clearly disappointed, no doubt about that. But, did he hate me, too? I sighed an exasperated sigh. "Will one of you please say something?" I begged. Dad rubbed his eyes. "I'm really disappointed in you." He said. I felt my heart break. I looked at my parents in the eyes, and they looked back at me like they'd never seen me before; like I was a stranger. "Are you guys mad at me?" I asked. "What do you think?" Dad asking, piercing me with his glare. I turned to Mom. "Mom? Please say something." I begged, my voice shaking. "We'll talk about this tomorrow." She said, walking out, with Dad following close behind her. Not what I was hoping for. I slowly closed my eyes and bowed my head. "I told you they'd hate me." I said to Uncle Jamie without looking up or opening my eyes. "They don't hate you. They just need some time to process all of this." He reassured me. How does he always know what to say? The last thing that I wanted to do was hurt my parents, and I wasn't thinking about that. I wasn't thinking at all. Which definitely doesn't help matters. "It's whatever. Can we just go home so I can get a somewhat decent amount of sleep for school?" I commented. We drove back to Nicky's in silence. This is one of those times where I wish I could be mad at Uncle Jamie, but I can't. The longer they would've gone without knowing, the worse it would have been. So, as much as it hurts right now, I know this was the best thing to do. My poor parents; Grandpa getting shot and now finding out their daughter has a self harm addiction? I can't even imagine how hard that must be on them. I hate all of this so much. Jamie and I didn't speak on the way back to Erin's. I didn't know what to say and Jamie probably assumed that he's already said too much, which he kinda has. He dropped me at Erin's. "Hey." He said as I got out of the car. I turned back to him expectantly. "I promise it's going to be okay." I just nodded, shut the door and walked inside. "Hey, what was that all about?" Nicky asked as I walked in. "Don't ask." I said. I was done talking about it for the night. "If you say so. Come on, let's try to get some sleep." "Fat chance of that. How are they going to actually know if we made it to sleep? They're all at the hospital and there's no way in hell any of them are leaving tonight." I pointed out. Nicky thought about that for a minute. I don't know about her, but I'm not even going to attempt to sleep tonight, I don't care that I have school. That's what coffee is for. "I mean, you're right. They wouldn't know." Was all she said, and I knew we were on the same page. We both sat down on the couch without saying a word to each other. What was there to be said? Even though Grandpa was going to be okay, it had been an insane night. I had butterflies in my stomach, but not the cute kind. The kind that feels like you're being stabbed with a white hot poker and make you want to throw up. I know I'm supposed to feel ashamed of my self harm addiction but, the thing is, I'm not. It's addicting and it hurts but it's a rush. It's like a drug. I'm supposed to be sorry but I'm not right now. How screwed up am I that that actually makes sense? Nicky kept giving me a sideways glance. I know she's dying to nn what Jamie and I talked about, but I don't know if I'm ready for her to know. The last thing I need is for my whole family to be mad and disappointed. "Are you gonna just keep staring at me or are you going to ask whatever it is that's on your mind?" I finally blurted out. She looked super uncomfortable that I called her out but I felt super uncomfortable with her staring at me so I guess we're even, now. "What did you and Jamie talk about?" She asked somewhat timidly. I took a deep breath and ran my fingers through my hair. Like with Jamie, I just took off my jacket. She closed her eyes and slowly looked away. "I would ask who did that to you, but I think I know the answer to that." She said. "Yeah, I think you do." I told her. "Why? I mean, how could you do this to yourself?" She asked sternly. I m
my cheek out with my tongue and shook my head. "You wouldn't understand." I said. She has no idea chg hvv nn bb what I'm going through or what my thought process C, and there's no way I could get her to understand no matter what I say. "Then enlighten me." She demanded. I scoffed at her. "Because; hurting myself has been the only thing I have found that can make the thoughts and voices in my head shut up, even if just for a few minutes. And I need that break." I told her. My jaw was tense and clicking and my body was shaking. I couldn't tell if I was annoyed or on the verge of tears, or maybe both. "Would it kill you to ask for help in dealing with the shit you go through?" She snapped at me. I couldn't stop myself from laughing at her a bit. She has to be kidding; my family doesn't do antipsychotics or therapy and I know that's what she's talking about. "You're joking, right? That's not what Reagan's do." "I don't give a damn if that's not what Reagan's used to do! When have you and I ever followed family patterns?" "Well with this I will follow 'family patterns' because I am not weak! I will handle this on my own." I told her. What I go through is none of her business. I should never have said anything, I should've known she would go all self righteous on me. Because that's what Nicky does; she thinks she's so much better than anyone else. She stood up and paced back and forth a few times before stopping and putting her hands on her hips. "You're right; you're not weak. But you are, by far, the most selfish person I have ever known." She said calmly and matter-of-factly. I felt the wind be knocked out of my and my jaw drop to the ground. She did not seriously just say that to me? I do everything for everyone! I am always there for someone when they need me, I always jump in and help when and where I can and she has the audacity to call me selfish? "What the hell did you just call me?" We we're now both standing up in a face off sort of fashion. "You heard me. You may not think you're being selfish, but you are! You put us through you being in a coma and now this? You are stupid and selfish, and I've never been more ashamed to be related to you." And she stormed to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. As mad as I was at her, and that was more mad than I've been in a while, I also knew she was right. I hadn't thought of it that way, but she was right. I was being selfish by putting my family through similar pain that I'm going through. I wouldn't wish what I'm going through on my worst enemy, let alone personally put my family through it. I wish I could still blame these actions on Joe or my depression or whatever, but the truth is; at this point, it's on me. I'm the toxic member of this family. And I want to fix that, I need to fix that. And I don't know how that'll happen, but I will do whatever it takes to make it happen. Because I'm better than my more recent poor decisions. God I wish Joe was here right now. There's this pain in my heart surrounding him and I know it won't go away. Because the only way it would is if he were here with me. And that can't happen and I need to come to terms with that. I got the couch ready for bed, but I just lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. Contemplating everything.
                             DANNY'S POV
Linda and Erin had fallen asleep, but Pops, Jamie and I didn't. We couldn't. If this was a planned hit on Dad and not just some random drive-by shooting, we needed to be ready for anything to happen anywhere. These sons or bitches are dead, they are dead. If they think they can get away with an attempt on the PC's life they are the dumbest people I've ever heard of. I'm just so glad that he made it, that he survived. I can't lose him right now, I absolutely cannot. He's still needed, he still has work to do. So his job is to rest and get well, and mine is to make sure that the guys who put him here never see the light of day ever again. As I was starting to lose the battle with sleep, my phone rang, and it was Jackie. "Hey, Jackie." Hey, listen. I got word that there's a meeting going down at One PP to go over the strategy and rolls for taking down the guys who shot the commissioner. If you want a part of this, I suggest we get down there. "Yeah, okay. I'll meet you down there." I not so gently moved Linda's head of my lap as I hung up and got up. "I'll see you later, Gramps." I patted his shoulder as I passed him. "Go get 'em." He called after me. Whether I'm officially a part of this or not, I will be responsible for catching these guys. Driving down there, I knew it would probably take a lot to convince Vincenzo to give me a spot for me, if I even would be able to. It'll be a damn miracle if he doesn't put up a fight or give me a way in. I'm not a doctor, I can't help back at the hospital. I think we learned with Eliza that I would just drive everyone, myself included, up the wall. But out there, out in the field, getting my hands dirty? That is how I'll help in this situation. Serving justice is where I'll do the most good. And if I'm not helping I can't control any part of the process and if I can't control anything then nothing will get done right. And nothing, absolutely nothing about this, can go wrong with this case. It cannot be screwed up in any way because there cannot be anything that will allow these animals to walk free. I yawned so big I felt my jaw crack. I'm so exhausted but I can't sleep, or eat or rest or anything until I know my Dad is safe and this won't happen again once he's out of the hospital. I grabbed Jack and I some coffee on the way because it's 6am in New York in February so it's cold as hell. Jackie and I met up in front of One PP and we practically flew up the stairs to my Dad's conference room. It was chalk full of different department leads. Getting an in is going to be harder than I thought. Vincenzo was at the head giving the low down. "Intel's flagging the Reynaldo cartel in Central Mexico for the attempt on the life of Commissioner Reagan. One of their bigs is coming to trial here in a couple of weeks and they've got a long history of revenge killings in their own country in response to police actions taken against them. Now, whether that means they're exporting their methods as well as their materials, that's the question. So, Narcotics, Gang Unit, JTTF, that's the top of your pile." He handed out files to every head at the table, and that's when I walked completely in the room and made my presence known. I'll tell you now; if it's some scuzzball druggie that put my father in the hospital, I'll shove narcotics down their throats. "Detective Reagan. How's the Commissioner?" He asked when he saw me. As if he really cares. I took a deep breath and refrained from sassing him off. I can't offend him, not now. "Um, he's good. He took a shot to the arm and chest, but he's out of the woods, now." I said to the people who actually cared. "That's great to hear." I figured now was as good a time as any to try to force my way in. "I interviewed him briefly. He wasn't 100%, but by tomorrow morning, he should be fine. I'll get a statement-" "Thank you, Detective. The thoughts and prayers of every man and woman in this department are with you and your family." Yeah, right. I'm sure he'd love Dad dead so that he could take over as commissioner full time. He's not going to make this fun, but I'm not giving up. I couldn't stop myself from glaring hard at him as the phones started to ring and everyone carried on as if none of that had just happened. "Hey, they located the car in Greenpoint." Jackie told me. Thank god. We've got to get on that fast before anyone else beats us. "Great. Give me a minute and we'll check it out." I pushed my way through to the front. "Commissioner?" I said to get his attention. Calling him that made my stomach churn and my blood boil. He doesn't deserve that title. "What is it, Detective?" Okay, be polite. Don't offend him, have a small filter. "I want in." I said flat out. No use beating around the bush. I want in and damn it, I'll get in. "Your father's in the hospital. That's where you're needed most." I dug my nails into my hand. I couldn't believe he was actually giving me this crap. If I wasn't the Commissioner's son, he'd have no problem letting me help on this. But because I am he's being a petty little ass about the whole thing. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't care about catching these guys. He's probably just going through the motions, trying to win people over and make it look like he'll stop at nothing. "I'm a detective, I'm not a doctor. I think I could do some good here." I told him. "I don't have a spot for you right now, or the time to discuss one." I can't hold it in anymore. "Does this have something to do with some kind of beef between you and my Dad?" He glared at me for a few seconds before responding. It was a full on stare down for a long few seconds. "I didn't hear what you just said." I knew I shouldn't have said that but I couldn't help it. This guy was completely pissing me off. "Okay, look; I just wanna help. Okay, please." Maybe a softer approach will work. "It's covered." I rolled my eyes and walked out. I don't care if he's the stand in PC, I swear I'm gonna throat punch him. He's out of his mind if he thinks he can keep me from working this case. I'm working this case whether he likes it or not and if I get into trouble, so be it. I'll take whatever comes, because I don't care right now. I walked out to my car and Jackie followed me. "I take it you didn't get in?" She asked, even though she knew the answer. "No. That son of a bitch doesn't want me helping. Thinks I'm too close to it." "Well, you are too close to this, Reagan. A case doesn't get more personal than this." I couldn't believe what I was hearing; she's actually on his side? If she thinks I shouldn't work this case why the hell did she tell me about this meeting. "But, if I was shot, I would want the most pissed off detective to work the case. Cause that's the guy who gets things done." She added. "Then let's get this done, partner."
                                 MY POV
I lay awake all night thinking about mine and Nicky's fight. For the first little while I was convinced that she was out of line calling me stupid and selfish. Like, she just found out I was hurting myself and that's the first things she says to me? Not I'm here for you or I still love you, it's all going to be okay. She has absolutely no idea what I'm going through, and how could she? I can't tell her anything without being certain she wouldn't go blabbing it to someone else. I know she thinks she's helping but she's just making things worse. I have to figure this stuff out on my own. That was what I was thinking at first. But then I started thinking more rationally and more and more about my actions rather than my feelings and I realized she was right. I hated that she was right, but she was. I wasn't taking away my own pain, I was just hurting the people who cared about me by mangling my own body. The more I realize how toxic I am the more I hate myself completely and think this world would be better off without me. But I can't put my friends and family through what Mariah put all of us through. I can't. I have to believe that I'm not that far gone, yet. I just wish I knew what to do and how to get rid of all of these poisonous thoughts and feelings, how to get back to who I was before Joe died. But I think I have to realize that I'll never be the same person ever again. I need to learn how to adapt to my new normal. I have to figure out how to not give into every toxic thought and feeling that comes to me. I can't believe it took me this long to figure all of that out, but I guess it's better late than never, right? At least I'm not dead yet. Because if I died because of anything like this, Joe would kick my ass until not even hell would have it as soon as I got up there. Don't get me wrong, I'm still pissed at her, because she could've been nicer about it. Like way nicer. But I guess she was just showing me some tough love, like a true Reagan. And I won't be mad at her for long, I just need to blow off steam somehow. My alarm went off to wake me up, but it was unnecessary because I was still completely wide awake. I guess the adrenaline of last night still hadn't worn off in the least. Nicky came out of her room and wouldn't even look at me. That girl sure does know how to hold a grudge and make your blood feel like it's turned ice cold. I decided that today would probably be best to only speak when spoken to with her. I don't need to rock the boat any more than I already have nor am I in one of those moods I get into when I want to start an argument. We got ready in complete and total silence and then walked to school the exact same way. I can't remember the last time we were in such a big fight; we're usually pretty good at talking things out and making things work. But I guess I really screwed up this time. I still have to wear a long sleeve shirt or a sweater of some sort until the cuts clear because I don't need questions from a bunch of nosy teenagers and I certainly don't need any more rumors about me being spread.I just gotta keep a low profile for a while until I'm starting to get better. The first half of the day was uneventful, and then I had to go to theater class and that's when all hell broke loose, as if it hadn't already. I had barely sat down when my guidance counselor walked into the room. "Sorry, Mr. Ferris. Could I borrow Eliza for a moment?" She asked in a sickeningly sweet tone of voice. Everyone was staring at me and I awkwardly stood up and followed Ava to her office. I know I shouldn't but I seriously hate this woman. She shut the door behind us and stared at me. "You're probably wondering why you're here." I just shrugged my shoulders. "I assume it's one of our regular meetings." I said. She smiled softly and sat down on the chair in front of me. "No. You're here because a student has expressed some concerns for your safety." I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes, so irritated because I knew what was coming and who this student is. "And by student you mean my cousin Nicky?" "They asked to remain anonymous." "So Nicky. Well, I'll save both of us some time by telling you that everything she told you, my parents already know about." I got up and started to go for the door before what she said next stopped me dead in my tracks. "So your parents know that you expressed a desire to take your own life last night?" The blood in my veins turned to ice and froze every artery and organ in my body. I turned around slowly. Don't get mad at her, don't rip her a new one. This isn't her fault, she's just doing her job. But I swear when I see Nicky next she's going to get it. "I never said that, Ava." I told her. "I know it's scary to admit it to an adult because you don't know what will happen but I can assure you-" "No, I'm not scared to admit it. I never said anything like that. I admitted to my self harm addiction and that is it." "I'm going to need to call your parents." "No, you don't! Because I'm not going to kill myself! Don't you think I've learned that's the stupid and selfish after Mariah?" I swear to god I'm not as stupid as people obviously seem to think I am. I'm going through a lot but that doesn't mean I'm gonna take my own life. Because I know deep, deep down that things will get better and that there is a light at the end of this ugly ass tunnel, whether I can see it or not. And my track record for surviving my worst days is 100%, and I'm a perfectionist and I don't plan on breaking that. "Let's compromise; I don't think you're in any danger. So, I promise not to call if you promise to tell someone the second you feel that way." "Deal," I stormed out of her office and could focus on nothing but tearing into Nicky after school for the rest of the day. I'm gonna kill her. After school I found her in the courtyard and didn't hesitate to stomp up to her. "What the actual hell Nicky!" I yelled at her and grabbed her shoulder to turn her to face me. "What?" She looked at me totally disgusted and confused. "What do you mean, what? You told Ava I said I was gonna kill my self last night?" I whispered/hissed the last sentence so that I wasn't screaming it to the school. I probably shouldn't have done this here but I couldn't hold in my anger. "That's basically what you said." I scoffed and cracked my knuckles. "That is not basically what I said! Admitting to a self harm addiction and saying I want to kill myself are two completely different things." "I just wanted to help." "Well shouldn't that be up to me? I told you my parents know, Jamie knows. What else do you want?" "Clearly it can't be up to you." She said. I could feel my nostrils flaring and my blood boiling. "God, you are the most self righteous person I have ever met. Stop acting like you're perfect, it's unbearable." "Yeah, well you have no idea what it's like being your cousin! You're such a self pitying freak." She said, and I'd be lying if I said that didn't completely knock the wind out of me. I knew everyone at school thought I was a freak, I guess I just assumed that she was the exception. But I should've known. I guess I did decide too late to try to be okay again. Because everyone thinks I'm a freak who's going nowhere. So now I'll just do and be whoever I want. Because what difference does it make? "Okay. Walk home by yourself. I'm outta here. "Sure, run away like you always do." I couldn't help myself, I just flipped her off. I've never hated her more in my life. Have you ever been so angry that you couldn't think? Because that's how I was feeling. (There is A LOT more to come in the next few days. I just wanted to post a little bit more for those asking for it!