He gave me a gruff snort. “Not when they’re going to end up in the trash in two days.”
If I weren’t so busy with swirling the sauce-covered noodles around my fork and stuffing the whole helping into my mouth, I would’ve quipped back with something along the lines of food having the same kind of shelf life.
Regardless, I was happy to see him and get something besides cafeteria food scarfed down. There was only so much tapioca pudding I could stomach before the sight of those little plastic cups began to haunt my nightmares.
TJ left the opened bag next to me to pick through while he flopped back into the guest recliner, a weary sigh leaving him. “Got yourself into quite the pickle, kid.”
Wasn’t that the truth.
Honestly, I knew I was lucky to be alive, even with people constantly reminding me.
These past few days, while rough and annoying, were definitely welcomed compared to the dirt nap I could’ve been taking had the EMTs arrived any later to the scene, or had the life-saving measures taken while I’d been transported to the hospital failed.
It wasn’t often I envisioned my own death, but that had certainly not been on my list of ways I’d most likely kick the bucket.
Imagining leaving my sister and niece behind, or any of my coworkers at the precinct, in such a traumatic way made my stomach squeeze uncomfortably, despite the mounds of food I was still shoveling back. Being a burden in any capacity was the last thing I wanted, even if it was for a noble cause.
It felt wrong for people to worry about me, as natural of an instinct as that was for someone you cared about. I’d walked through life this far coming out all right on the other side, and for something as stupid as a small mistake to almost cost me my life had a lot of things shifting into a different perspective.
How many near death experiences had I come close to without ever realizing?
“Sorry about all that,” I said, after taking a swig of the soda he’d also shoved into the bag. “Did I at least get used as a training dummy for CPR?”
He gave me a look. “Don’t even start with that shit. You know how much blood you lost while we were trying to pack those stab wounds? You’re lucky you’re still alive to be yapping like that.”
Yeesh.
Bad move on my part for cracking jokes so soon after the incident, then. “Sorry.”
Although, itwasquite touching to know he cared that much. Deep enough to be bothered with the memories of me getting almost sliced and diced like a fucking Thanksgiving turkey. TJ would never admit to it out loud, but he was a compassionate guy. He had that close connection with a few of us from the precinct that went beyond simply mere coworkers.
It was nice to see I was one of them.
“Next time, save the hero shit for someone else.” While his tone was surly, it didn’t quite match the pinch of worry in therest of his expression. “You barely got your training wheels off. Don’t make me have to attend your funeral. You’ve got a family to look after and I look like shit in black.”
Fair point.
If we were in the reverse situation, I would also be appalled to be the one sitting in that chair while my twenty-something year old partner nearly got their life snatched in what felt like the blink of an eye.
“I’ll make sure to put it in my will that it’s mandatory pastels for the service.”
“I’ll be long dead by then, so fine with me.”
I twirled another helping onto my fork, letting it hover in front of my mouth while I said, “Unless the cigs kill you first.”
He rolled his eyes. “Talk to me when you quit drinking that battery acid.”
No promises there. The second I was out of here and a free man walking the streets, I was marching myself right over to the convenience store down the block and grabbing an arm full of cans. “They’re better than beer.”
“I can take you to rehab for only one of those things.”
Touché.
“Any word on IAB?”
He shifted back in the recliner at the sudden subject change, spreading his legs apart wide while he let both of his arms settle on the arm rests. Even from all the way over here, I could tell how tired he was. If the dark circles under his eyes weren’t the neon flashing lights pointing to the obvious, his posture certainly wasn’t doing him any favors.
I doubted our captain was sending him off on calls by himself so soon after what happened and while I was still out on recovery. There would be no point in shuffling around our partner rotation for the next couple of weeks when I’d bereturning eventually, so more than likely he’d been slapped with desk duty.
