Evangeline stirs.

She takes a deep breath and relaxes before slowly opening her eyes. The fluorescent lights overhead and the sunlight bouncing off of the sterile white walls remind her that it’s the start of another day in her hospital room – the same hospital room she’s been in for far too many days now. She hears the low hum of activity out in the corridor just a short distance away as well as the intermittent sound of cars passing by on the road adjacent to the hospital.

She feels her sense of frustration returning.

‘I am so sick of this place’, her mind complains.

Just then, out of the corner of her eye to her left, she spots a sleeping form in the chair close to her bed.

It’s John, jacket across his lap, his face turned away from her. His body is perfectly still, steadily and deeply breathing in and out, in and out – sound asleep.

Evangeline watches him sleeping for a moment, feeling good that he’s at least getting some sleep – a small portion of the sleep that he has probably denied himself ever since that night. He always works so hard – pushing himself to the absolute limit over and over again. She’s reluctant to disturb him but now that the hospital day has begun, she knows that it’s just a matter of time before something or someone else does.

“John?” she calls softly.

No response.

Evangeline inches closer and reaches toward him, straining slightly to gently graze his hair with the tips of her fingers.

“John?” she repeats.

Suddenly his body springs upright to a sitting position, his pulse racing and his eyes darting around quickly for a few seconds – reorienting and reminding himself where he is.

When his eyes land on Evangeline’s face, he relaxes.

“Hey,” he manages.

“Hey, yourself,” she answers, settling back against the pillows. “When did you get here?”

“Uh…late last night. You were asleep. I figured I’d hang around…Guess I dropped off.”

“I guess so.”

“How are you this morning?” he asks, rubbing his eyes awake with the heel of his hand.

“Okay, I guess…Sick of being stuck in this hospital, though. I can tell you that.”

“Yeah, I bet. Soon…”

“Not soon enough,” Evangeline says. “I want to get out of here – back to my own home, back to work -”

“Which is probably why you should stay for a little while longer. As soon as they let you out of here, that little ‘Energizer Bunny’ inside you is gonna have you bouncing all over the place, from this case to that case – just like before…You’re gonna have to slow down – get back up to speed a little at a time.”

“Yeah well, that’s easy to say.”

“Believe me,” he tells her. “I know what it’s like to be laid up and forced to take things easy whether you want to or not. But I care about you and I don’t want you to pop a stitch or something. You need your rest.”

“But I’ve been resting,” she insists. “That’s all I do. But I have clients who are depending on me, a couple of briefs that need to be filed. Those things won’t rest. I need to get back to work.”

“You’re incredible,” he says, shaking his head. “Why is it always about everybody else but you? Do you not get that you were shot? Is that not registering with you? And we’re not talking about one bullet here. Gunshots – multiple gunshots – two of ‘em. For Crissake, Evangeline. You almost -”

He abruptly stops talking and averts his eyes, not even wanting to hear out loud what he was about to say.

“I almost died,” she adds, finishing his thought. “I know.”

“Then why the rush? Give yourself time.”

“I can’t,” she insists. “I need to take my life back. That guy – that Danny Winters…He tried to kill me – tried to take everything away from me. And why – all because I got a look at him? And I have had nightmare after nightmare about what happened that night – reliving every single moment of it – from the time Robert Castor came out to my table…right up to the moment when I thought I might actually be dying…”

“I know,” he quietly acknowledges. “You get a little agitated sometimes during the night. It was actually pretty bad those first couple of nights – took awhile to get you settled…but …it’s been better lately…”

“I don’t even remember any of that…”

He shrugs.

“No reason you should,” he tells her.

“But John…” she begins, “I was so afraid when Bo handed me that mug shot – when I saw that face again – his face – and those cold eyes…And I will be damned if I ever let anybody scare me like that again – ever. I can’t let him win. I won’t.” She thinks about it briefly – the terror she felt that night, the searing, white hot pain from being shot, the fear she saw in John’s eyes – no matter how he tried to hide it.

Most especially, she remembers the fear that she herself felt – fear that it could all be over just like that – everything she had ever worked for, everything she had ever done in her life, everything she would ever do. Never again, she tells herself.

“No,” she says firmly. “No, the sooner I get my life back on track, the better.”

“Evangeline -”

“And besides that…my Mom is driving me crazy. I mean, I love her to death and I really appreciate that she came all this way just to take care of me and everything…but -”

“But she’s your mother,” John adds. “And mothers have a habit of doing too much sometimes.”

“It’s just that I know my mom, you know? If she’s around when they finally let me out of this place, she’ll smother me and we’ll end up having words and saying things we don’t really mean and -”

“I get you,” John says. “Look, just don’t try to do too much too soon, okay? Give your body a chance to recover.”

“I’ll try,” she tells him. “So…has Mom been giving you a hard time?”

“No. She’s just worried about you, that’s all. Actually, I don’t think she’s thought about me one way or the other since she got here.”

“Hey listen,” Evangeline begins, “I want to apologize for whatever Henry said to you while he was here. I don’t know if I said that before.”

“No worries,” he tells her. “Besides, I think that Henry and I have come to an understanding.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask…What kind of understanding?”

“Well, he’ll stay out of my face, I’ll stay out of his, and that way we’ll both avoid that annoying ‘assault’ thing – what with me getting arrested and him getting his jaw wired shut – which does have a certain appeal, I have to admit.”

Evangeline begins to giggle - her abdomen still sore from her recent injury.

Still the sound of that giggle brings a smile to John’s face, cheering him as few other things can.

“Don’t make me laugh, McBain.”

“Sorry…Look, bottom line here is that you shouldn’t spend your time worrying about your mom and me or Henry and me or anything else – anything besides getting well so you can get out of here and go home. That’s what you should be concentrating on.”

“Yes sir, Lieutenant,” she teases. “So…that’s why you came back last night – because of my nightmares…”

“Partly, I guess,” he admits. “I guess I didn’t want you to wake up from one of those nightmares of yours and be here all alone and so…when you start getting restless, I usually just let you know that I’m here and that everything’s okay…Seems to calm you down, for some reason…”

“I know why,” she says softly. “Because I love you – because I feel…like everything’s right where it should be when I’m with you…”

John feels himself retreating again – just like he used to before that night. Talking about his feelings has always been so hard to do and pulling back and saying nothing – never putting himself on the line – has always been so much easier.

But he catches himself falling back into his old habits. He remembers seeing Evangeline propped up against that wall, blood all over her dress. He remembers when she passed out and how afraid he was at that moment that he’d lost her for good. He remembers watching the paramedics working on her, bringing her back when her heart started beating wildly in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. He remembers pacing back and forth, memorizing each and every square inch of the waiting room, waiting for her to come out of surgery, praying as hard as he could that he wouldn’t lose the best thing in his life that night.

He remembers his promise – to always let her know how important she is to him. He can’t go back to doing what’s easy. He’s got to put his feelings out there from now on. Even if it’s just a word or two that does it, it’s what he has to do.

For her.

“Me, too,” he gets himself to finally say.

“I can’t help worrying about you, though,” Evangeline says, understanding from somewhere deep down how hard John is trying.

It makes her love him that much more.

“Don’t.”

“You were sound asleep just now,” she continues. “You’re not getting any sleep at night, are you?”

“I sleep,” he insists. “I do. It’s just that I was watching you sleep…I don’t know. It felt…good being near you…I just fell asleep watching you, that’s all.”

Evangeline reaches out for him. He takes her hand.

“And it feels good having you here,” she tells him. “Things like this happen and…they make you realize so many things about yourself that you never knew.”

“Or maybe stuff you knew but never admitted out loud to anybody…”

“Maybe…”

“I uh…miss you, if that makes sense, since I’m here all the time…I miss you being there next to me.”

“I miss you, too,” Evangeline says.

“Anyhow,” John continues, “that’s why I’m here so much, I guess – why I snuck in last night and watched you sleep – why I’m here almost every night…”

“I don’t want you working yourself to the point of exhaustion, John. You keep telling me to slow down but look at you. You’re trying to work this case, trying to keep me safe, trying to make sure that other people keep me safe…Don’t dig yourself in so deep that you can’t dig your way back out…okay?”

“Okay.”

“John -”

“I won’t,” he interrupts.

“Promise me.”

“Look, Evangeline -”

“Promise me,” she insists.

“Alright, alright,” he relents. “I promise.”

---

John walks into the squad room on the way to his office. He stiffens a bit when he sees Natalie at her desk, fully determined not to engage her in any way – exactly as he has been doing for the past couple of days.

She notices him walking past.

“Hi,” she says quietly.

“Hi,” he answers, not stopping but slowing down – a little.

“There are a couple of messages on your desk.”

“Thanks,” he answers, continuing past her. Suddenly he stops in mid-step, thinking better of it. He sighs deeply and steels himself before turning to face her. “Look…I’ve been meaning to say something to you…I’m…sorry for yelling at you the other day.”

“Forget it.”

“It’s just that I was worried about Evangeline and keeping her calm and safe and when I saw you there -”

“You thought I was there to make trouble.”

“Something like that. And, for the record…I meant what I said…But I had no right to yell at you and I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Natalie says. “And I get it, okay? It takes me awhile sometimes…but I get it now…You don’t have to worry about me making trouble for you anymore.”

“I have your word on that?” he asks, directly.

Natalie studies John, still looking for some sign of uncertainty on his part – some crack in his armor – anything that might give her some hope.

But there’s nothing – no uncertainty, no crack in his armor.

“Yeah,” she relents reluctantly, the truth of John’s feelings for Evangeline beginning to take hold at long last. “You have my word.”

“Good,” he says. “I’ll be in my office.”

She watches him continue past her desk and disappear into the corridor on the way to his office.

“Don’t worry, John,” she whispers to herself, sadly. “I get it…”

John steps into his office, closing the door behind him. He looks at his desk, seeing the small mountain of files neatly piled to one side and rolls his eyes. He knows that he’s been neglecting his other cases ever since Evangeline was shot – determined instead to pour every bit of his energies into finding the man or men responsible and making them pay as high a price as possible for everything she’s been through.

But that mountain of files just won’t go away. Sooner or later, he’ll have to address them and he knows it. So he takes a deep breath, takes off his jacket – tossing it on top of the file cabinet to his left - on his way around the desk to his seat.

John’s eyes catch sight of a couple of pink message slips on the desk in front of him. He sits, pulls the chair close to the desk, and picks up the message on top.

It’s a reminder that it’s that time of year again – time for Lieutenant John McBain of the Llanview Police Department to re-qualify on the shooting range. John mentally dismisses the message, telling himself that he’ll make the appointment whenever he can get to it.

Before he can get to the second message, there is a quick knock at the door.

“Yeah?” he calls.

The door opens and Sergeant Rodriguez peeks in.

“Sorry to bother you, Lieutenant, but we just got a call from Proval – says you might wanna get over to the ME’s office. Seems a couple of beat cops found a body with multiple stab wounds in a dumpster about a mile away from the Lakeland Motel.”

“That dump out past the airport. So?”

“The ME’s office says the guy’s been dead for a couple of days now.”

“Don’t play with me this morning, Rodriguez,” he warns. “I’m not in the mood.”

“The guy’s been positively ID’d as Ray Remsen out of Chicago – blond hair, about five-nine, known associate of one Jimmy Kubek.”

“Blond, about five-nine, huh?” John repeats, the adrenalin beginning to pump and his mind immediately clicking into cop mode, wondering if this guy might be one half of the team that shot up The Palace that night. “Please tell me there’s more…”

“Got a positive ID from the clerk at the Lakeland Motel. He identified Danny Winters from the mug shot and said that the guy had been staying there – up until a couple of days ago.”

John shoots to his feet. His gut is screaming at him that this is it. All of the players are starting to have names now - Remsen and Kubek and Winters - the guy who shot Evangeline who just happens to turn up missing around the same time that this Remsen guy turns up dead – this Remsen who fits the general description Evangeline gave that night.

Funny how most things that seem like they could be coincidental really aren’t.

“’Stocky, dark, blond, shorter’”, he repeats, remembering the men Evangeline described to him the night she was shot. “Kubek’s in Holding, right? On what charge?”

“No charge – yet. He’s into about the twenty-ninth hour of his forty-eight in lock-up.”

“Good,” John says, coming around the desk, grabbing his jacket, and heading for the other door, almost in one motion. “I’m on my way to the ME’s office and then down to Holding to have a little talk with Mr. Kubek. This might be the break in this case we’ve been looking for.”

“Sounds like it.”

“If anything else comes in, you page me right away,” he orders, continuing for the door.

“Yes, sir.”

He stops suddenly.

“And get Flynn and Belding over to the hospital to back up Stokes outside Miss Williamson’s room,” he orders. “This guy Winters is on the loose and my guess is he killed Remsen, which probably means he’s tying up loose ends from the hit on Castor that night. So until further notice, nobody not on the list of approved names gets into Miss Williamson’s room – period. I don’t even want them in the corridor outside. Got it?”

“Got it, Lieutenant,” Rodriguez says.

---

“Cookie,” Lisa Williamson begins, faintly trailing behind Evangeline as she takes her first slow and deliberate steps from the chair by her bedside to the door of her hospital room. “Are you sure you’re not doing too much? I don’t know if you should be on your feet so soon.”

Evangeline rolls her eyes – out of Lisa’s sight.

“I’m fine, Mom,” she insists. “The longer I stay off my feet, the harder it’ll be when I finally do try to get around.”

“Well, what does Dr. Young say?”

“This is what Dr. Young said!” she snaps. “I didn’t make it up, Mom.”

“Alright, alright,” Lisa retreats. “Don’t get so upset. I just don’t want you getting ahead of yourself, that’s all.”

“And why is everybody saying that to me – that I need to slow down?” Evangeline wonders out loud. “I mean, it’s not like it’s gonna get any easier if I wait.”

“Cookie,” her mother says in an even tone of voice, “we’re just worried about you.”

Evangeline leans against the door jam and tries to shake off her annoyance. After all, it’s not that she’s really upset with her mother or anyone else who cares about her.

She’s more upset with herself – with her inability to control her situation. Giving up control is something she almost never does. But the hard truth is that being shot nearly to death comes with its own set of rules – from being forced to put yourself – your body, your safety, and your well-being - into someone else’s hands to feeling fatigue after a few small steps across the room.

“I know,” Evangeline sighs. “I’m sorry. I just want to get out of here and get back to living my life.”

At that moment – out in the corridor, she spots a cluster of LPD officers at the desk – the always present Officer Stokes and a couple of other officers – one she recognizes from the station as Officer Flynn. She watches intently as they talk to each other – conferring and coordinating it seems to her.

Then the three officers split apart, Officer Stokes remaining in place, Flynn heading off to the right and out of sight, and the third officer to the left.

“Cookie?”

“Excuse me for a minute, Mom. Officer Stokes?” she calls. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Officer Stokes crosses back over from the desk to where Evangeline stands in the doorway to her room.

“Miss Williamson?”

“What’s going on?” she asks. “And how come those other two officers are here?”

“New orders from Lieutenant McBain,” Stokes tells her. “Nobody not on the approved list in or around your room – no exceptions.”

“I see…Did he say why?”

“No. The order just came down from Sergeant Rodriguez. I’m afraid I don’t know any more than that.”

“Thank you,” she answers distractedly as Stokes turns around, assuming his position just outside Evangeline’s door.

“What is it?” Lisa asks, picking up the look on her daughter’s face. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Evangeline answers. “But John just bumped up the security around here.”

“Why would he do that? Oh, my God! You don’t think that there’s been a new threat, do you?”

“Maybe…Or maybe there’s some new information about the shooting and Robert Castor’s murder.”

“Oh, my goodness!”

“Mom,” she begins firmly, “I think you need to leave.”

“What?” Lisa asks in disbelief. “I’m not going anywhere!”

“Please, Mom! Look, if John thinks that there’s a more immediate threat, I don’t want you around here where you could get hurt.”

“I’m not leaving my baby - ”

“Mom!” Evangeline interrupts loudly, unexpectedly winding herself. “Please, okay? I’ll just worry more if I don’t think you’re someplace safe…so please go.”

“Evangeline -”

“Please, Mom…Officer Stokes,” she says, “can you have someone drive my mother back to my apartment?”

“Whatever you say, Miss Williamson,” he agrees, reaching for his radio.

Lisa grabs her pocketbook from the foot of the bed and slowly approaches Evangeline.

She takes her left hand – Evangeline’s right arm still bandaged and bound.

“I don’t want to leave you alone…” she says softly.

“I know…” she says. “But I’m not alone, you know? I’ve got three members of the LPD watching over me. Besides…I’ll rest better if I know you’re safe so…just go back to my apartment…and I’ll call you there.”

Lisa hugs Evangeline gently, kissing her cheek.

“I love you, honey,” she tells her.

“I love you too, Mom…”

“Miss Williamson?” comes Officer Stokes’ voice.

Evangeline turns toward him.

“Yes?”

“Officer Owens will take Mrs. Williamson back to your apartment,” he tells her, referring to the young looking uniformed officer at his side.

“Thank you. I’ll…call you later, Mom.”

Lisa stares at Evangeline for a second, not wanting to let go of her hand.

“Don’t forget to call me.”

“I won’t.”

Her mother reluctantly lets go, quietly preceding Officer Owens down the corridor and out of sight.

Evangeline makes the slow trip back to the bed and lowers herself onto it. She scoots back, kicks off her slippers, swings her legs up onto the bed, and inches back against the pillow, surprised at how out of breath she is.

She leans back against the pillows, her mind full.

’What’s happening, Lieutenant McBain?’ she wonders.

---

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