In Love's Defense - Part 9
Title: In Love’s Defense
Spoilers: Takes place after ep 101 (8x09) soon after Pepa and Silvia have announced their engagement.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Pepa/Silvia (Bad ass cop/Cute, nerdy forensic scientist)
Summary: As Pepa and Silvia look forward to their upcoming marriage, the precinct becomes aware of a lead on the Italian mafia, but at what cost?
A/N: The story and characters of LHDP are not mine. This part’s way less action (unless you count one pissed off, worried, don’t-touch-my-woman pelirroja!) and more exposition. Hope it’s not too boring, but I figured maybe you readers might need a breather after the last few cliffhangers! ;D Again, I just finished this, so lo siento for any errors!
[ Part 1] [ Part 2] [ Part 3] [ Part 4] [ Part 5] [ Part 6] [ Part 7] [ Part 8]
Silvia found herself unable to stop from crying. The tears of anguish had turned to tears of relief - a manifestation of pure emotion that silently dripped down her cheeks. Normally she was the foremost example of restraint, the tactical, no nonsense scientist. She liked her world full of facts, order and routine. Those were things she could control, aspects that had the least amount of variables. Until Pepa Miranda came back into her life and turned her whole perception of the world upside down. And showed Silvia what it was like to live every day as if it were her last. And how to love as if her heart had never been broken as it had so many times before.
The redhead still tightly clutched Pepa’s hand, as she bent to kiss a sweaty brow again. She pulled back to make sure she could see into Pepa’s deep brown orbs that slowly blinked open, cloudy with pain.
“Pepa, cariño. I’m still here.” Silvia spoke through a throat that felt thick and raw from her own screams. She felt her own body wince in sympathy as Pepa shifted slightly, a sharp gasp escaping parched lips. “Dios! Lo siento, I know it hurts. We’re going to have you feeling better soon, vale?”
“Papa?” Silvia’s worried gaze met her father’s eyes for a split second, before she returned her attention to her partner. Don Lorenzo read the unspoken question in them, plain as day.
The commissioner turned his head to yell over his shoulder. “Where the fuck is that ambulance I asked for?!” Though it had only been seconds since he’d arrived at Pepa’s side, the time that encompassed Pepa’s miraculous revival had seemed to last hours, and the fact was the agent was still in grave condition. Help couldn’t come fast enough.
Don Lorenzo’s expression changed from one of aggravation to subdued amazement as he finally saw a stretcher loaded with medical equipment being wheeled into view. The gurney was being pulled by Curtis with Montoya bringing up the rear, both of them running flat out as fast as they could. Kike followed closely behind, literally dragging one of the paramedics with him, his hand grasping a fistful of his yellow uniform by the shoulder. For their part, the pair of well-trained and fit medical professionals looked like they could hardly keep up, as the San Antonio agents dashed to their fallen comrade’s side.
“Let’s move, rápido, rápido!” Curtis bellowed as they came to a screeching halt at Pepa and Silvia’s side, unloading the equipment and shoving the bright orange medical bag into the paramedic’s hands.
His chest heaving, the first paramedic knelt by Don Lorenzo’s side, his gloved hands ready with more bandages. “Señor, I can take over now.” Without missing a beat, the two switched positions, still managing to keep constant pressure on Pepa’s wounds. The commissioner stood and backed away, letting an exhausted breath leave his lips as his shoulders sagged.
The second paramedic spoke to Silvia as he quickly inserted a needle connected to an IV bag of hydrating fluids into the crook of Pepa’s arm. “Vale señora, you can go and stand by the other gentleman there. We’ll…” his looked up, his voice trailing off, regretting the words he’d just said. He physically shuddered at tear-filled eyes that were pinning him with a glare so ablaze with fury, they were almost black.
“No, I will not go and stand anywhere!” Silvia hissed at the EMT as she felt Pepa’s hand curl around her fingers in a weak grip. “This is my partner and my fiancé who just put herself in front of a hail of bullets to save my life! She is hurt and scared and she needs me here. I’m not going anywhere.”
The older man gulped, fearing that if he didn’t do as she said, he’d catch a punch in the face or worse. He was a stout, silver-haired man, a 22-year veteran of the local emergency response team and had seen almost too much during his years of service to comprehend. But that all paled in comparison with the fiery intensity of the redheaded inspector next to him.
“Va - vale.” He finally managed to croak a response, a trickle of sweat starting to pour down his temple. “Just let us treat your partner here and we’ll get both of you to the hospital.”
Silvia nodded in understanding. “I won’t get in the way.”
The inspector’s hands kept constant contact with Pepa’s body, even when she was compelled to temporarily let go of her hand as the brunette was attached to portable monitors, a blood pressure cuff and set up on oxygen to help ease her strained breathing. Silvia kept the paramedics informed with a constant stream of information from Pepa’s blood type to her professional evaluation of her injuries. The redhead felt her body jerk in a bolt of agony again as Pepa was loaded onto the stretcher, causing her to cry out.
Silvia bent her head down, continuing to whisper words of comfort into her partner’s ear, even as she walked swiftly with the stretcher outside to the waiting ambulance. She looked up, seeing the rest of her team standing at the vehicle along with two special forces squads, all waiting with expressions ranging from grave concern to reverence.
“Pepa, you’re getting quite the escort.” Silvia said quietly as she pressed a kiss to her uninjured temple. She watched as Paco, Don Lorenzo and Sara’s hands clambered to get a hold of the gurney to load it in the ambulance.
“Tita, te quiero.” Sara said in a quivering voice. She sniffed back her tears as she kissed Pepa’s hand.
“Hermana, you hang in there.” Paco tried not to crumble as he looked down at his vulnerable little sister, covered in a mass of tubes and still reddening bandages. “We’ll be right behind you.” He motioned with his head to his boss as Silvia climbed in the ambulance with Pepa’s stretcher. “Don Lorenzo, go ahead.”
“Are you sure?” The commissioner was astonished that he was taking what he thought was Paco’s rightful place.
“Sí. Pepa’s with Silvia, so I know she’s in the best of hands. I’ll take care of my daughter.” Paco embraced Sara in a side hug. “You need to take care of yours. Silvia will need you too.”
“Vale.” Don Lorenzo climbed into the truck, leaning out to clasp Paco’s hand gratefully in a firm grasp. “We’ll see you there.”
Paco nodded and reached up to close the door, the painted words on the vehicle blurring as his vision stung with tears for what seemed like the hundredth time on this catastrophic day. He thumped the door for good measure as the ambulance took off, the sirens sounding abrasively in his ears.
___
Don Lorenzo pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the headache that was hammering at the base of his skull, as he let out a fatigued sigh. He was in an alcove of a waiting room outside of surgery that was filled to the brim, not with patients but with cops. Although they had gotten Pepa to medical attention in record time, he found that dealing with the emotional consequences of his agent’s wounds were just as difficult, if not as painful as the physical ones. His daughter had loudly, angrily protested in the emergency room when she was told she would not be able to scrub up and be with Pepa in surgery. She had insisted on it, that she was a forensic scientist with a medical degree that knew her fiancé better than anyone from a health wise and physical perspective, all to no avail. Don Lorenzo had to physically pull Silvia away from Pepa’s attending ER nurse, as well as towards another attendant who could treat the laceration on her cheek. Paco had been just as stubborn, having to be dragged away from the same nurse by Sara and Mariano to get his arm looked at. In the end, he had checked out with no major nerve or muscle damage - just a few necessary stitches and not even a sling was required. It was a small piece of good news in a long day of defeats.
And then there were the rest of the officers of the commissioner’s precinct, who had proven just as difficult. Salgado had arrived on the scene of the warehouse shootout and was overseeing the investigation and the various criminal scene investigators. With the exception of Silvia, Salgado was requesting comprehensive statements from all of the agents as soon as possible, before their perceptions and details of the event began to fade. Don Lorenzo snorted in derision. As if any of them would ever be able to forget this horrific experience. All the hombres had vociferously argued in the hospital lobby about who would go first for at least fifteen minutes, none of them willing to leave Pepa and Silvia’s side. In the end, Mariano and Nelson had been the pair who had literally gotten the short end of the stick which had been improvised by Curtis as he’d swiped a handful of plastic coffee cup stirrers from a tray and told them this was going to be the method of the decision making process.
The commissioner sighed again as he glanced around the room, finding his men in various stages of weary shock and distress. Curtis was slumped in a chair chewing on one of the toothpicks he was so fond of, staring absently into space. Montoya and Rita were sitting quietly, leaning against one another, while Povedilla sat opposite them. Kike had been pacing the area, but seeing how it aggravated his colleagues’ already frayed nerves, had taken his restless energy further down the hallway.
Don Lorenzo looked up at he saw Sara and Paco walking down the hall towards the group. He drew Paco into a hug as he approached.
“Cómo estás?” He asked his longtime friend. “How’s Aitor?”
Paco nodded tersely. “I think he’s going to be okay. They took him into surgery a few minutes ago.” A small smirk crossed his face. “Even drugged up on painkillers, he was still in a foul mood about getting shot, so he must be fine.”
“Mm.” Don Lorenzo leaned to kiss his granddaughter on the head. “You take care of him, vale?”
“Sí abuelo.” The girl assented. She glanced over to her beloved aunt, who was sitting in a chair in the far corner away from the rest of the troupe, yet closest to the door leading to the restricted surgery area. “How’s Silvia?”
The older man looked at his daughter, frowning deeply at the sight. Silvia was sitting hunched forward in the chair with her head bent, her face obscured by the red waves of hair. Her forearms were resting on her knees with her hands clasped tightly, her knuckles almost white with the strain. Although the inspector been able to wash Pepa’s blood from her hands, the rolled up sleeves of her shirt were still permanently stained with the crimson fluid. Don Lorenzo feared that Silvia’s internal trauma would be just as long-lasting.
He blinked away tears that were rapidly collecting in his eyes. “She’s pissed off at the doctors for not letting her in the OR, exhausted and worried as hell. Not a good combination.” The commissioner turned back to the two anxious faces. “I’m trying not to crowd her too much for now, but I know she’ll break down eventually. She’ll need all the help we can give her, even if she won’t ask for it.”
Paco tried in vain to swallow the huge lump that had formed in his throat. “Claro que sí.”
The door to the OR hallway squeaked open, as everyone’s heads turned simultaneously towards the sound. Silvia felt her pulse stutter and jump rapidly as she recognized the young dark-haired nurse she’d argued with in the emergency room.
“Qué pasa?” she exclaimed as she stood up so rapidly, she almost saw stars, hearing everyone stand up and gather en masse behind her. “What is it, what’s wrong? I just left Pepa ten minutes ago! I thought she was going into surgery!”
The nurse put both hands in front of her in a calming gesture. “She’s fine, Inspectora Castro. I -”
“Wait, wait.” Silvia interrupted as she inhaled, trying to calm herself. It would do her no good to seem hysterical. “I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier. Lo siento. It’s just that I need to be with Pepa right now. Por favor…” Despite her best intentions, Silvia’s voice broke as her lips trembled. She didn’t want to seem like the grieving next of kin, which was wholly accurate, but she was beyond the point of caring. She’d play any card she had if it got her closer to her fiancé.
“Por favor.” The redhead implored again. “Pepa’s my wife. Maybe not on paper yet, but she is in here.” She closed her right hand in a fist and held it next to her heart. “Can I please go into surgery?”
The nurse let out a small sigh as she eyed Silvia with genuinely compassionate eyes. “I’m really very sorry, but I can’t allow that. For the safety of the patient.” She took Silvia’s hands in her own. “I know this is very difficult for you. But I came out here to reassure you that Dr. Gonzalez is the best surgeon we have. I’m going in to assist him right now and we’ll take good care of your Pepa for you. We’ll come out as soon as it’s over to give you an update on how she is.”
Silvia nodded numbly, barely feeling her father’s hand on her shoulder.
“And I wanted to give you this.” The nurse reached into her pocket, pressing a small plastic bag into Silvia’s hands. Silvia’s breath caught as she instantly recognized its contents. The bag contained Pepa’s badge and a smaller, zip locked bag with her engagement ring. Both were still in immaculate condition and were thankfully, incredibly unstained with blood as an ugly, painful reminder.
“I know it’s kind of against policy -” The nurse continued as Silvia stared in wonder at the items. “But I wanted to make sure Pepa’s personal effects weren’t lost in the shuffle and that they got back to you immediately. I know they’re important to you.”
“Gracias.” Silvia managed, clutching the bag to her chest. She looked at the nurse’s kind green eyes again, now seeing her as a benevolent soul instead of a hindrance. “What’s your name?”
“My name’s Eva. And if there’s anything else I can do for you, Inspectora Castro, please ask me.”
“Por favor, call me Silvia.”
“Vale.” Eva smiled as she took Silvia’s hand in her own again. “Tell you what Silvia. I’ll make sure to stand in for you during Pepa’s surgery. I’ll hold her hand and say to her anything you want me to, from you. What do you want me to say?”
Silvia inhaled deeply to try and dispel the tense tightness in her chest as the words came easily to her mind. “That I love her. Siempre.”
“Done.” Eva nodded. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go scrub up. I’ll be out again as soon as I can.”
The redhead nodded again, feeling herself fall into her chair. She quickly opened the bag, extracting Pepa’s badge. Her fingers traced the emblem of the crown atop the shield and the words on the badge of every police officer of Spain - Cuerpo Nacional de Policía. Words that Pepa upheld with her honor, duty and life. She pocketed the badge and took out the ring, the gold metal and diamonds as pristine and shiny as ever. Silvia pressed it to her lips, uttering a silent prayer. Please God, keep my Pepa safe and whole. She grasped the cool metal, closing a fist around it and resting her forehead on it, exhausted and feeling sick to the very depths of her being.
“Inspectora?” A soft voice inquired. Silvia looked up and saw a nervous Povedilla standing in front of her. He had watched his friend for a moment, in so much anguish as she clenched and unclenched her fist around the ring, as if she were afraid she’d never see its wearer again.
Silvia watched as Povedilla reached under his collar and fumbled with a gold chain around his neck as he unclasped it and removed from it a gold wedding band, which he stuffed into his pocket. He held the chain out in both hands as a timid offering. “This - this is mine. I used it for safekeeping of, of, well, you know…” he stuttered as he glanced over in Rita’s direction. “I - I just wanted to loan it to you, to…well, I don’t want you to lose your ring and I know Agent Miranda wouldn’t want you to either…” His voice faded as he stopped, at a loss for words.
The inspector put her hand to her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes, touched beyond words at Povedilla’s small, earnest gesture.
Povedilla blanched as he saw the tears in Silvia’s eyes. Joder! You’re such an idiot! “Lo - lo siento. It sounds silly, I mean why would you want to wear it. It’s kind of unpleasant -” His rambling was interrupted as Silvia’s hands closed over his, accepting his gift.
“Gracias, Jose Luis.” Silvia stood and embraced him tightly. She pulled back and managed a wan smile. “It’s good to have you as a friend.”
“Hey, you know, anything for you two.” He smiled, embarrassed. He went to retake his seat, watching Silvia return to hers as she attached the ring and chain around her neck. Don Lorenzo sat by her, his fingers idly massaging the tense muscles in her shoulders as she leaned against him, closing her tired eyes.
Povedilla caught Rita’s look as she gave him a small, reassuring smile. He returned it, feeling a tiny bit of his stress recede. They were all still here. They were still a family. They were going to be okay.