Survival Missing Scene
Summary: Missing scene for Survival.
Disclaimer: I do not own the charcters of TS. If I did I'd take much better care of them!!! They are owned by Pet Fly and Paramount.
Daryl Banks, fifteen-year-old son of Captain Simon Banks, walked into the Major Crimes unit of the Cascade PD just as Captain Taggart burst out of his dad's office. "Rafe. Brown. The Quinn convey was ambushed…there were a few injuries but no casualties…I want you two to go out and see what backup Ellison needs."
"Ellison," Brown's voice held a question. "What about Simon, was he injured?"
A heavy sigh from Taggart had the two detectives on edge. "Quinn escaped. He's got Simon."
A startled gasp drew the three men's attention to the door to see a distraught Daryl standing there. "My dad."
Daryl, Taggart close at his heels, burst through the outer doors of the ER waiting room in a panic, "My dad. Where's my dad?" he called out to no one in particular.
Jim jumped up from his seat and went to the distraught teen, pulling him tightly into a hug. "Your dad's fine, Daryl. The Doctor is in with him now. He should be out any minute."
Daryl returned the embrace; getting lost in the solid strength of the detective and letting the comforting words wash over him. After a moment her pulled away, "How…how bad? I heard this Quinn guy was a real scary dude."
Jim looked down at the teen, a gentle smile coming to his lips. "You can ask him yourself," Jim said turning the boy to face the inner ER doors in time for them to open and reveal Simon.
"Dad." Daryl rushed to his father, throwing his arms around him.
Simon returned his son's fierce embrace. "It's okay son. I'm all right—a few bumps and bruises but the bad guys lose again."
Daryl pulled back from his father, a wry smile on his face. "I thought I was the one who was supposed to give you the gray hairs, man, not the other way around. Do not do that to me again!"
All three men chuckled at the comment before Simon answered. "That is one promise I truly would love to keep."
The humor only lasted a moment before Jim's face became hard again and he stared at the doors Simon had just come through. Daryl looked around confused when no one made an effort to leave the waiting room, suddenly realizing some one was missing.
"Uhm, dad…Jim, where's Blair?"
Jim and Simon's eyes met for a moment before Jim reached out and put a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "He's in surgery. He was…shot."
"Shot! How? Quinn?" Daryl said, his eyes going back and forth between Jim and Simon, "How could you let that happen? Is he gonna be all right?"
"Daryl." Simon rested his hands on his son's shoulders, "Blair is going to be fine. He was shot in the leg—it wasn't even Quinn. We all got ambushed by survivalists out for Quinn's money."
"And the guy that shot him…"
"He's…dead." Jim answered grimly.
"Dad we haf'ta' stay. Please, ‘til we find out for sure he's gonna be all right," Daryl pleaded.
"Yes, son. We'll stay. Maybe we can even sneak you in for a minute." Simon smiled at his son.
Simon stood outside the door while Daryl followed Jim into Blair's room. Jim stopped and turned when he sensed Daryl was no longer right behind him. The boy was standing just a few steps inside the door, his wide eyes staring at the array of beeping machines and IV's hooked up to his still, pale friend.
"He's, he's gonna be okay, fight Jim? You said he was going to be all right?" Daryl whispered, his eyed never leaving Blair.
Jim came back to Daryl and gently took his arm and guided him closer to the hospital bed. "He will be fine. Blair is very much alive, he's just sleeping because of the anesthesia from surgery to clean up and close the wound on his leg."
"He just looks so still…that is so not like Blair, to be still."
Jim chuckled. "That I'll have to tell him, even our resident teenager thinks he's hyper." He then pointed to a monitor, "See that machine, it's a heart monitor, it shows that his heartbeat is strong and steady."
Daryl stood by the bed and just stared at his friend, fear and uncertainty still plainly evident on his young face. Jim took Daryl's hand and placed it on top of Blair's.
The teen flinched but didn't pull away as he felt the warmth of Blair's hand in his palm. "He's going to be okay." A statement this time rather than a question.
With a smile Jim answered. "Yea, he's going to be just fine. But he does need his rest, as does that old man of yours out there. He's been through a tough couple of days, too. So take that dad of yours home and see to it he gets some rest tonight and I'll call you in the morning."
"Yes, sir," Daryl said with a mock salute and a smile. "You make sure you let him know we were here and call tomorrow."
Jim stood by Blair's bedside; listening to the retreating figures of father and son until the elevator doors closed then settled into his chair to wait for his guide.