Seconds seemed like an eternity, even though less than a minute had passed since the shot had resounded through the quiet neighborhood. Experience told Kris that the shooter was most likely gone, and she heard a tentative knock on the driver's side window simultaneously with softly spoken words from beneath her.
"You're squishing me."
Kris breathed a sigh of relief at the welcome sound of Shelby's voice. "Sorry." She straightened up, her eyes watering in pain, quickly scanning the surrounding area. She ignored the mother of the child she had narrowly avoided hitting, who was tapping on the window, immediately turning her attention back to Shelby once she was sure the pedestrians were safe.
Her partner was still leaning against the door, where she'd been pushed when Kris fell on top of her, and she was now holding her left upper arm with her right hand. A red smear stood out starkly against her pale face, and blood smeared from her saturated sleeve created a macabre design on her blouse.
Exhibiting a measured calmness she didn't feel, Kris gently touched Shelby's hand, and said, "Let me see that, okay?"
Shelby remained silent, but removed her hand and let Kris examine the wound. The operative noticed that the bullet had passed through the fleshy part of her partner's upper left arm, which accounted for the large amount of blood and Kris worried about the very real threat of shock.
Somewhat relieved that it had missed the bone, she gently lifted Shelby's hand and placed it back over the injury. "Press against that for a minute. I'm going to find something to make a compress with, then we'll get you to the hospital."
Nodding, Shelby applied pressure, surprised that it really didn't hurt. It was a surreal experience as she objectively noted that both her and Kris' tops were amply stained with red and the coppery odor of blood permeated the air. Perfectly content to remain where she was with her head resting against the door jamb, Shelby watched Kris stretch over the front seat to reach the gym bag on the rear floor. She was glad she'd just cleaned it out and replaced the dirty linen with clean, and then smiled at the mundane thought.
Kris ignored the pain the stretching had engendered, and removed a towel folding it into thirds. She carefully wrapped it snuggly around her partner's arm, holding it in place with one hand, while she gently helped Shelby right herself in the passenger seat.
The operative knew time was of the essence because Shelby could go into shock. "Here, hold this in place. We've got to get you to the emergency room."
Quickly rolling down the window, she met the concerned gaze of the woman holding her toddler. "He okay?"
"Yes. I don't know how to thank you..."
"No thanks needed..."
The woman stared at the red stained shirt Kris was wearing. "You're hurt. I'll call an ambulance..."
"No I'm not, but my friend is; and I really need to get her to the emergency room. It'll be quicker if I take her."
"Yes, of course..." The woman retreated back to the small group of bystanders that had gathered once word had spread that the backfire had actually been a gunshot.
Kris put the car in gear and sped off toward Arlington Memorial Hospital. She looked over at Shelby anxiously. "How're you doing?"
Shelby took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Her arm had started to throb, setting her teeth on edge. "Okay."
The beating of the operative's heart had finally slowed to a normal pace, and she spared a quick glance at her passenger, worriedly taking in the pale face and tight set of her mouth. "I'm sorry."
The analyst looked at Kris puzzled. "Why? You didn't do anything."
Kris pursed her lips, grimly. "I know. That's the whole problem."
Shelby sighed. "Don't do this. Don't try to take responsibility for something you had no control over. Please?"
Kris cut her eyes sharply toward her companion. "I just feel like...I should have sensed something..."
The analyst shifted in her seat to face the tall, guilt-ridden woman. "No one could have prevented that. Not even you." Green eyes flickered over Kris' shoulder. My God...there it is."
Surprised at the abrupt change of subject, Kris asked, "There what is?"
"The bullet hole. It's in your neck rest. You could've been killed."
Kris shook her head at the shock in her partner's voice. Shelby was sitting next to her bleeding, with a bullet hole in her arm, and she was worried that the shot had come close to hitting her.
At a loss for words, she reached over and placed her hand on Shelby's thigh, squeezing it gently. "Here we are."
Parking the car in front of the emergency room, Kris quickly exited and made her way around the car to the passenger door, pulling it open. "Wait here. I'll get a wheelchair."
Shelby smiled wanly. "Oh no you don't. I can walk." She swung her legs out of the car and got to her feet, grabbing onto Kris when she suddenly became light-headed.
Kris immediately wrapped the blonde in her arms, thanking whatever powers guided the universe for saving the woman she loved and needing the brief moment of contact to reaffirm that she was, in fact, going to be okay.
The operative steadied Shelby, then placed an arm around her waist, carefully avoiding the injury. "I've got you." She slowly guided Shelby toward the entrance, a squinting of her eyes the only indication of the extra burden placed on her bruised muscles.
"I need some help here." Kris' voice rang out sharply over the noise in the busy emergency room, attracting the attention of a nurse, who immediately summoned one of the house officers.
Shelby was assisted into a wheelchair and as she was abruptly pushed away, she looked over her shoulder to make sure Kris was behind her. The tall woman followed the green eyes tracking her, only to find her progress stopped by one of the nurses.
"Are you a family member?"
"No, but I'm responsible for her." She pulled out her CIA identification badge and showed it to the woman blocking her passage.
"If you're not family, you wait out here. Her injury doesn't appear to be life threatening. I'll let you know her status after the doctor sees her."
Blue narrowed her eyes and growled, "She is a CIA employee. She was shot. I don't know that there won't be another attempt made while she's here. I am empowered by the government of this country to protect her. Now, you either move out of my way, or I'll move you. It's your choice."
The nurse backed up in the face of the tirade from the intimidating woman. "It's against hospital rules. You can talk to the supervisor."
Noticing the confrontation, a woman in her forties approached. "What's the problem here?"
Encouraged by the appearance of her supervisor, the nurse said, "She thinks just because she works for the CIA we can bend the rules and let her in the back."
If Blue hadn't been so concerned about Shelby, she would've laughed at the nurse's sudden courage in the wake of reinforcements. She looked at the newcomer. "We're working on a case. My partner was shot. She could still be in danger. It is my responsibility to protect her." Inclining her head toward the nurse, she added, "She refused to let me pass."
The supervisor looked at her subordinate and said, "They need you over in trauma three." Once the woman left the area, she turned her attention to Blue. "It is against hospital policy to allow anyone back in the treatment room. However, because of the possible further threat to her life, you can wait right outside the treatment room doors."
Blue nodded, preferring not to disrupt the care to her partner by insisting she be present in the treatment room and followed the supervisor to the door Shelby had been wheeled through. At least she would control who had access to the room, because the door didn't have a window and no one had entered or departed since Shelby had been taken inside. That would have to do for now.