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Isobel steadied her breathing as she eyed the gathering crowd of journalists, photographers and various occupants of 26 Fed who had interest in media conferences such as this. It was nearly time to begin and while Isobel had long since become accustomed to this kind of dog and pony show, it still made her feel both exhilarated and rattled.
Most of the time, the podium and cameras were used to highlight accomplishments; the government wasn't overly fond of broadcasting failures and mistakes. So unless using the media was in some way helpful for a case, her time at the podium was a symbolic moment of success. At the same time, no matter how successful they had been, there was always inevitably a journalist or two who would hit her with an oddball question. A question designed to chip away at the undeniable flaws in the justice system.
Then again, she had been given this position for a reason. Those kinds of questions were just a challenge for her to overcome and, in most cases, she did just that.
As the clock struck one in the afternoon, Isobel smiled politely towards the crowd and stepped up to the podium.
The case had involved the potential resurgence of anthrax as a viable threat throughout the city following two attacks on different tourist sites, including one of the museums. There for a moment, Isobel had been worried they would be looking at the widespread fear that came with publicly announcing a terror attack, but instead, the team had finally tracked down a lead that led to apprehending the two responsible for the attacks.
As such, she was rewarded with a podium chat about mission success instead of an urgent warning.
“Good afternoon,” she began cordially, “I will make this short and sweet, as I’m sure you all have places to be on this Friday afternoon. I am pleased to announce that the Joint Operations Center has successfully thwarted a terror plot involving anthrax following the two attacks earlier this week.”
A low murmur and rustling from the crowd was unsurprising; the mention of terror attacks in New York City had a totally different impact on its inhabitants since 9/11 and she imagined it always would. At least until the generations who experienced it were long gone. And the idea of an anthrax attack alone was enough to remind people that the world could be a scary place. Far scarier than they really knew.
“Our investigation revealed that the aforementioned attacks were practice runs for the full scale event that would have likely left hundreds, possibly thousands, sick. And of those, many would have lost their lives.”
Isobel stood taller as the blunt, yet true, words flowed eloquently from her mouth. She focused on no one in particular, but still got the impression that the overall tone of the audience was relief. The media had gotten a hold of the anthrax stories earlier that day, despite their best efforts to keep the full truth hidden during the investigation, and so the fear had been building quickly. Knowing that the threat was already over had to feel pretty good.
“I would like to take this time to thank my-”
“GUN!”
And with that one word bellowed out from somewhere beside her, a series of events all started happening instantaneously. The sound of the gunshot was nearly deafening as it echoed through the open space of the lobby where the conference was being held. Screams were erupting all over but these sounds all invaded her ears as she was being catapulted to the ground by another body ramming into her own.
The wind forcibly escaped her chest as she collided with the floor, rendering her dizzy and temporarily disoriented. Whoever had pushed her down landed half on top of her before quickly rolling off. She couldn’t tell who it was just yet as they were behind her, but she instead focused on what was going on with the active shooter situation in her own damn office building.
Isobel could make out Tiff and Maggie, along with a few other security staff, all surrounding a body that was now lying on the ground near the entrance. Whoever it was must have known they would be dying that day, given that this particular building was filled with highly trained federal agents.
Sure enough, Isobel watched as Maggie shook her head upon checking for the shooter’s pulse. Once again, the threat had been neutralized before anything truly bad could happen.
Further examination of the area showed that most had already evacuated, either out the door or further into the building, trying to escape the threat near the entrance. Still, several cameramen and journalists were on the job, filming and taking photos of the seemingly secured, yet still very newsworthy scene playing out before them. She chuckled, wondering how many brave individuals chose journalism over a career in law enforcement.
“Get the ambulance down here now!”
Isobel frowned as OA’s slightly frantic calls from behind her now alerted her to the fact that she still didn’t know who had pushed her out of the way. Not only that, her original assumption that nothing bad had happened was evidently untrue.
She turned, still positioned on the ground, and felt her stomach leap to her throat at the site that greeted her eyes.
OA was kneeling in front of Scola, who was propped up against the nearby security checkpoint desk, as he held some sort of fabric against the injured man’s right shoulder. A small pool of blood was beginning to form beside him, which made her stomach turn.
She half stood, had crawled to them, given that they were so close, and knelt down beside OA. Stuart was definitely alive and was, thankfully, even awake. His chest was heaving and she could tell he was fighting hard to stay conscious. But as she came to rest before him, his eyes met hers.
“You good?” he asked quickly between deep breaths, eyes blinking rapidly.
Isobel nodded quickly, confirming that it must have been him who tackled her and he must have realized that the gunman was aiming for her. And for some reason, he had been willing to risk his own life to save hers.
As the area quickly filled up with people, including Jubal and the remaining JOC analysts who had been watching from upstairs, Isobel fought to stay focused. Someone had not only just tried to kill her, she was now looking at one of her own agents bleeding on the ground of the building he should have been safe in. Because he wanted to save her. And it was Scola. Of all people, he was probably the one who had the least amount of motivation to save her given their recent and tumultuous past and he also arguably had the most to lose with Nina being due in only a month.
But before she had any time to dwell on it further, paramedics were gently pushing her aside so that they could get in and assess their new patient.
“Hey,” she heard Jubal say softly now, his hands resting on her shoulders as he looked her up and down. “Were you hit? Any injuries?”
She shook her head, “N-no. I… why?”
“He was saying something about his daughter before he died,” Maggie now said as she came to stop beside Jubal, her eyes darting over to her injured teammate every so often. “Something about how we didn’t save her…”
So it was probably some grieving parent who didn’t know how to deal with the pain of loss and needed someone to take it out on. Who better than the FBI person who was always bragging about all of their accomplishments on tv?
Isobel sighed deeply and glanced back at OA and Scola, the latter of whom was now being loaded onto a stretcher with an oxygen mask covering most of his face.
“He took a bullet for me…”
“Yeah, we saw,” Jubal added, his tone both concerned and proud. “Good thing, too. It got his right shoulder but if he hadn’t jumped in front of you, it likely would have hit you square in the chest, by the looks of it.”
She looked into his eyes and knew exactly what he was trying to do: bring her some comfort by suggesting Stuart would likely be fine based on where he was hit but also making it clear his decision was worth the effort. Worth the pain he was feeling now and would feel as it healed.
And yet somehow, she still didn’t feel worth it at all. Hopefully once she got the official word that he was, in fact, okay, she would finally feel some peace. But it was no secret that she wasn’t anyone’s favorite person; that was by design and, frankly, it was a natural byproduct of successfully holding the position that she held. As much as Isobel cared for everyone who worked for the JOC, she had made sure to never get too close to any of them. To never cross that line from work acquaintances to friends. Not because she didn’t want to, but because closer friendships would only make her job - her hard decisions - that much harder. Jubal was the closest, given that he also had some level of understanding of the leadership role in such a high-risk job, but even then, there was a line she actively chose to avoid overstepping with even him.
But that also meant that she wouldn’t have expected any of them to take a bullet for her. Sure, they were FBI agents and there was a chance they would do that for anyone, but she certainly hadn’t earned that treatment based on a strong bond from any of them.
“Isobel,” Jubal interrupted her thoughts once more. The concern in his voice made her wonder about her exterior demeanor. “Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should get checked out just in case. You may have hit your head on the-”
“I’m fine,” she responded quickly. Sure, being tackled hadn’t been the most comfortable experience in her life, but it certainly hadn’t warranted a trip to see a medic and it definitely beat taking a bullet to the chest. Or shoulder.
“Will he be okay?” she asked the EMT as the stretcher holding her agent began to move out, OA, Tiff and Maggie all following nearby and listening intently.
The EMT shrugged, “There’s a lot of blood but the hospital is right around the corner. They’ll do everything they can.”
She nodded and looked at Scola one last time before they wheeled him out of the building and noticed that while he was still conscious, it was just barely. His eyes were now rolling beneath half closed lids and his breathing had slowed considerably.
As the ambulance pulled away, she was left standing with the rest of the team and JOC analysts. She felt some anger inside of her when she realized a nearby cameraman had just filmed all of that, which felt like a severe violation of Stuart’s privacy, and yet she also knew he had been doing his job.
“I’m going,” Tiff said quickly, and Isobel knew it was a statement, not a question. “Anyone want to ride with me?”
“I will,” Maggie answered.
“I’ll meet you there,” OA spoke, his tone heavy as he looked down at his blood-stained hands and clothes. There really did seem to be too much of it on him and on the floor, Isobel thought sadly. “I’m going to stop by the locker room real quick.”
They nodded in understanding, knowing he would want to try to get the blood off of him first. Isobel, for one, would be glad to have the vibrant red stains gone from her sight as soon as possible as everytime she looked at him, it made her feel a little queasy.
“I’ll make sure the scene is secure and then I’ll head that way,” Jubal offered.
“I’ll help you,” Isobel added, suddenly not wanting to be in the same vehicle as Stuart’s immediate team members. Deep down, she knew her thinking was irrational but she couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that he was the one in danger when it should have been her. Couldn’t help but feel that if it was up to them, they would have preferred Isobel to be on that stretcher instead of Scola.
Tiff simply nodded, evidently wanting to waste no more time, and she and Maggie left.
“Izzy,” Jubal said quietly once the other agents had left, ”are you sure you’re okay? You’re usually the first one to the hospital during times like these.”
Isobel shook her head and tried to appear as normal as possible, “Jubal, I’m fine. We just had an agent shot in our lobby and it was all televised. I’m going to see this through. Besides, he will likely be in surgery for at least an hour so I have some time before we receive any information.”
Jubal watched her for a moment more and she made sure to keep her features strong in response.
“Right,” he nodded and looked around the lobby, before turning towards the group of shaken analysts gathered by the stairs. Isobel felt for them, having just watched a colleague get shot on the screen and knowing that it was all happening in the building they worked in every single day. “I’m going to get the gunman's identity and then I want all of you to get every bit of information on him that you can. I want a motive and to ensure that this was an isolated event.”
He then walked towards where the gunman was still lying on the ground, now covered by a sheet while some NYPD officers stood by, awaiting instruction. It took about forty-five minutes but she and Jubal were able to effectively secure the scene, observe the removal of the body and give the JOC clear marching orders before deciding that they had wrapped everything up pretty well.
“We should probably get to the hospital, yeah?” Jubal asked, watching Isobel closely again.
She nodded, “Yes, let’s go.”
The ride was silent and quick, both features that Isobel was grateful for. In all honesty, she didn’t know how she felt. If anything, the answer would be numb. She wasn’t really wanting to venture too much into her own thoughts and instead focused only on the next step. And for now, that was getting to the hospital and figuring out where Scola was and how he was doing.
After checking in with the front desk, they were sent to the surgical waiting room on the fifth floor. Isobel purposefully made a point to avoid all television screens throughout the hospital after realizing they were all replaying the scene she had just lived through and offering their own comments on it. She also realized random people were starting to stare at her, no doubt recognizing her as the lady who had almost been shot over and over again. At one point, she even caught a glimpse of Scola being wheeled out of 26 Fed on one of the screens as they passed and felt the anger well up inside of her again.
“Hey,” Tiff said softly as they finally made their way into the waiting room. At some point, OA had apparently managed to slip past them earlier as he was already occupying one of the chairs and now wearing what appeared to be workout clothes. She imagined his choices were slim in his locker but it beat bloodstained clothing.
“Hey,” Jubal responded, thankfully beating Isobel to it. She wasn’t really in the mood to talk just yet. “Any word?”
They all shook their heads and Isobel felt both relief and more tension; relief that she hadn’t missed any news but kind of would have liked to hear he was okay. Waiting was torture any time one of her people were injured, but this time felt even harder.
Isobel turned and looked at the waiting room television screen and realized it had been turned off.
“They kept replaying it,” OA stated simply, sadness in his tone. “Most channels are covering it. Anthrax was big enough, then you add a shooting in the FBI building?”
“Sensational news,” Maggie added sarcastically. “Hey, Isobel… are you okay?”
Isobel turned towards her, confused by the sudden concern in her voice. What changed?
“There’s blood on your collar,” she added, standing up. But it was Jubal who was now behind her, pulling her short, dark locks to the side to see her collar and neck.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, “No injuries.”
Jubal backed away and nodded, “Yeah,” he started simply, “Must have been right after Stuart tackled you. It… it isn’t much but I can see if they have a scrub top or what the gift shop has.”
Isobel tried to control her facial expressions even though her heart was now racing at the idea of his blood being on her. What was wrong with her? “No, it’s okay. I’m wearing an undershirt. If you’ll excuse me.”
She quickly left without looking at any of them, trying to find the nearest bathroom. Once there she pulled off her jacket and couldn’t seem to unbutton the light pink blouse fast enough. Sure enough, along the back collar was a dark red, nearly brown, stain. Jubal was right, it was only about the size of two quarters and yet it was still a visible reminder that it was her blood that should have been spilled, not his.
She put it on the counter, alongside her jacket, and stared at herself in the mirror. Isobel didn’t often allow herself to appear so rattled, and yet here she was.
Pull yourself together, she told herself.
Just then, her jacket began to vibrate against the counter signifying a phone call. She picked it up and felt her stomach drop at Nina’s name that appeared on the screen. With everything that had happened, she had forgotten to call the one person in Scola’s life who definitely needed to know if he was in danger. She sighed, considering the irony of how things went down when it was Nina in danger.
“Nina,” she answered, her heart pounding.
“Isobel, thank God,” Nina responded on the other end. “I saw Tiff’s message but my phone was in the car during the appointment. I-I saw on the news… Isobel, please tell me he’s okay.”
“I-we haven’t heard yet,” she answered truthfully. “He was hit in the right shoulder so I’m hopeful. And he was awake and alert when they took him away.”
She heard Nina sigh and quietly respond, “So was I…”
“Nina…” Isobel started, but she didn’t know how to finish. She knew Nina was referring to Italy and being shot herself; Jubal had recounted the woman’s pleas as they rushed to the hospital.
“My doctor is across town,” she continued, thankfully letting Isobel off the hook for any further words. “I’ll be there as quickly as I can. Please call me as soon as you hear something.”
“Of course,” Isobel responded.
Deciding it was time to get back out there, she straightened her white t-shirt, grabbed her belongings and made her way back to the waiting room. She tried to ignore the glances her way from the team, not knowing if they were concerned or something else entirely.
Thankfully, it only took another twenty minutes or so before the doctor came out.
“Stuart Scola?”
They all immediately gathered around the middle aged woman, eager for some news.
“The surgery went well,” she stated simply. “The bullet missed the brachial plexus, which means he will easily be able to regain full use of his arm with some physical therapy. It didn’t miss the brachial artery completely, however. It did sustain some damage which led to more blood loss than I would have liked. Thankfully, we were able to get it under control and repair the artery.”
They all sighed in relief and Isobel felt a small amount of the pressing anxiety melt away.
“So he’s okay?” Tiff asked.
“Yes,” the doctor replied as she half-shrugged. “Of course, his body has been through quite a lot of trauma in a short amount of time, so rest is essential. But a full recovery is likely.”
“Great,” OA breathed, “When can he have visitors?”
“Most likely another thirty minutes or so,” she responded. “He will be unconscious for a little while longer while the drugs wear off. Once he wakes up, we will get him settled and then a nurse will come get you.”
“Thank you,” Isobel said politely before the doctor turned and walked away.
“I’ll call Nina,” Tiff said as she pulled out her phone, but then stopped and looked at Isobel and Jubal. “Unless you…”
“Go ahead,” Isobel responded quickly, thankful Tiff was going to take care of it. And it made sense, given that Tiff was Scola’s immediate partner. “She’s on her way here now.”
Maggie and OA both took a seat once again, waiting for the nurse, but Isobel wasn’t sure she could sit down. She just felt so filled with anxiety but had no clue why. He was okay and was going to make a full recovery, so why did she feel this way?
“Why don’t you go home?” Jubal asked quietly, now that they were mostly alone on one side of the waiting room. “Get some rest and a shower…”
Isobel shook her head, even though that sounded amazing. “No… no I should be here.”
“You heard the doc: he’s okay. And by the time he’s ready for visitors, Nina will probably go in first and the team… And I’ll stay, too. Either come back this evening or in the morning.”
She watched him for a moment and decided he was probably right. And to be honest, she wasn’t sure what to say to Stuart anyway. Thank you, obviously, but what else? Anything? Was thank you sufficient?
“Right,” she said finally, looking around. “Right. Well, keep me updated if anything changes.”
He nodded and Isobel could tell he was still worried about her but he didn’t need to be. She was fine physically and mentally, well, that would come soon enough. Nothing ever kept her down too long.
The following hours passed in a blur; she got home and showered, spending much longer than normal in the hot water as though it could wash away the events of the day. Soon after getting in, the water had turned pink, alerting her to what had likely been more blood in her hair. Still, she had chosen not to dwell on it. What good would it do?
She had tried to put the tv on but it seemed like the scene from earlier kept finding a way to penetrate her attempts at peace, so she turned it off and picked up a book instead. After reading a full page and a half, it occurred to her that she hadn’t retained a single word of it.
Frustrated, she tossed the book to the empty couch cushion beside her. She finally made her way to the window and spent quite some time there, watching people pass on the street below her as the sun began its descent. Isobel has never been afraid to be alone; it beat the hell out of being in a relationship with someone who made her feel alone. But there were times she wouldn’t have minded some company outside of work to take her mind off of things. Today was one of those days.
Eventually she was pulled from her thoughts by her phone vibrating. She picked it up and saw that it was a call from Jubal.
“Hey,” she answered quickly, suddenly worried that something had maybe gone wrong at the hospital. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he responded in classic Jubal fashion. “I was just calling to say that there’s only about an hour left of visiting hours and he just fell asleep so you might as well come tomorrow.”
Isobel bit her lip, wondering if she should have left in the first place. He had managed to save her life but she hadn't managed to at least offer a “thank you” the same day…
“Right, yeah, I guess I’ll stop by first thing,” she replied, looking around the empty apartment. “How was he? Did he seem okay?”
“Oh yeah,” Jubal responded immediately, “Almost like normal, just a bit groggier and a smidge loopy. Actually a bit more of a jokester, if you can imagine. But he’s good, Izzy.”
A little more stress eased off of her at his description. Hearing that Scola was “almost like normal” was a pretty big deal considering the last time she had seen him, he looked half dead.
“Great! And the shooter?”
“Cut and dry. Daughter was murdered last month, presumably collateral damage from two feuding gangs. Turns out he had been contacting the NYPD, FBI and every other acronym he could think of concerning the rising threat of gang warfare in his neighborhood for weeks prior to her death but…”
“Nobody listened or did anything about it.”
“Right,” his tone matched how she felt. No matter how many cases they won, there were a dozen more that were either failures or had completely slipped through the cracks in the first place. “He was a widow and no other living relatives so that was his way out. And wanted to take you down with him, unfortunately, but there is no evidence to suggest he was working with anyone else.”
“Understood,” she replied. Sometimes the world just sucked and if there was anything she had learned in this line of work it was that evil did exist, but nine times out of then, the “bad” guys weren’t evil at all. They were so often decent people who had been pushed until they snapped. Still wrong, of course, but it just wasn’t black and white.
“Try to get some rest, Isobel,” Jubal suggested softly, as though he knew how convoluted her mind felt.
“Yeah,” she responded, then hung up the phone.
The night continued to pass in a blur. Wine helped, but it didn’t take away the anxiety she felt. And the worst part was, she couldn’t really name what was making her feel that way. Scola was alright, the anthrax case was solved and even the gunman had proven to be a nonstarter in terms of another case to follow.
As she took one of those sleeping pills that she reserved for only the worst of nights, she decided it was the entire day. The feeling of triumph that was so quickly interrupted and derailed by the intensity of massive amounts of adrenaline pumping through her veins. Then to find out someone else had been willing to potentially die specifically to save her… It was a lot to take in and process. Even for someone like Isobel.
But as the sleeping pill kicked in, she knew the hardest out of all of it was accepting that last part: despite the distance she purposefully kept between herself and the people she worked with, they were still willing to take a bullet for her. And for some reason, Isobel just didn’t know how to cope with that.
Morning came quickly, it seemed, and while she didn’t remember the night, the tangled bed sheet and comforter told her she had been restless, to say the least. She felt better, however. Not exactly well rested, but her mind felt clearer. She didn’t feel quite the same level of anxiety she had the day before and finally felt more like herself: in control.
Isobel knew the final step in getting back on track mentally was to simply visit Scola, thank him for his actions, and move on. No big deal.
Yet, as she neared his room upon arriving at the hospital, that confidence began to wane just a bit. She suddenly wished that he was already out of the hospital and that she could just speak to him in the comfort of her office. Not while he was injured and likely hooked up to machines. It just didn’t feel right.
Regardless, she steadied herself and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” he called from inside, and it sounded like he had probably said it a million times already. Isobel knew medical staff alone could drive you crazy with the amount of times they had to run tests and check vitals.
Isobel’s very first impression, however, was confusion at the sight of the empty bed. She turned then and saw Scola slouched in the armchair, his right arm in a sling and the other hand holding a phone. She could make out the white bandages peeking out from the neckline of his gray t-shirt, but otherwise he looked like he, himself, could have just been visiting someone.
Knowing Scola, however, she recognized tell-tale signs that he wasn’t 100%. Comfy sweatpants instead of well-fitted suits or jeans, untidy hair and weak eyes certainly showcased a version of him that she had never really seen before. That, and he was actually sitting still; also not something she normally associated with the Wall Streeter-turned- federal-agent.
“Oh, Isobel,” he greeted with a hint of surprise when he finally looked up from his phone, “hey.”
He put the phone down and sat up, giving her a view of the IV that was still placed in his left arm, but wasn’t connected to anything. She assumed it was precautionary while he was still hospitalized.
“Here, have a seat,” he motioned as he stood up and went over to the bed.
“Oh no, stay,” she said quickly, definitely not wanting to make him feel obligated to accommodate her.
“Nah, it’s okay,” he responded as he sat on the edge of the bed, slightly wincing when he jolted his bad arm. “I got sick of the bed but that chair was killing my back. I feel like Goldie Locks, except I only have two choices.”
She grinned at the comment, thankful for his attempt at humor. Isobel went over to the seat and lowered herself into it. Not really because she wanted to sit, but because she thought it might feel less like the boss lady was visiting him than if she remained standing. Then again, she was probably just overthinking.
“You… you look pretty good, all things considered,” she offered.
And it was true. Less than a full day ago, he was leaving behind a pool of blood as he was wheeled into an ambulance. But now? Now he looked almost normal.
“Yeah,” he responded simply. “It was just a shot to the shoulder. They want to check my vitals a few more times to make sure everything is good but I should be released this afternoon.”
“Wow,” she hummed, “that’s great. I’m kind of surprised… just seems so fast.”
“Nah,” he breathed, “I’d sign myself out now if it wouldn’t mess up my medical release form to return to work. I mean, I know I have to do physical therapy and evals and such, but I don't want to go against medical advice and make it even longer.”
Isobel nodded and could tell he was very aware of the fact that he was talking to his boss. She wondered if she was making him feel uncomfortable by being there.
“So,” he said after a moment of silence. “Do you need my statement?”
She frowned but then quickly shook her head, “Oh no, well… I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have it for the full report. But the entire thing was on camera and the case is all but closed, from what Jubal has told me.”
He nodded, taking in her words but she could still sense that he was trying to get a read on her. In all fairness, she was trying to do the same with him.
“You just came for a visit, then?”
Isobel couldn’t help but sense the surprise in his voice once again. For some reason, it made her feel kind of sad. He was willing to take a bullet for her but he didn’t expect her to visit him in the hospital? Maybe she was too good at keeping that professional distance in place.
“Well, you did just save my life and get shot in the process,” Isobel replied incredulously. “Even though you had every reason not to. So yeah, the least I can do is visit and say thank you. So… thank you.”
He was frowning as he listened - Isobel wasn’t sure why - and he sat for a moment after she finished.
“No need to thank me,” he started, though it was more of a throw-away thought. “But what do you mean by ‘every reason not to?’”
Isobel bit her bottom lip and considered how to best word it. “You know… I mean, I’m the boss, right? I’m not exactly anyone’s favorite person. Especially for you after what happened with Nina and Italy… And on top of it all, you have a baby coming. I… I’m just saying, you could have just yelled “duck” or something and hoped I would get out of the way. But you didn’t… so. So thank you.”
Once again, she could tell he was in deep thought about what she was saying. She didn’t think any of it sounded too far-fetched or extreme and wondered if he maybe had painkillers in his system that had him a little confused.
“Before I respond, I have to know something: Are we speaking as boss and subordinate right now, or as just two humans?”
She smiled, intrigued to know what was prompting such a question but also bracing for another blowup from him, though she wasn’t sure why he would do that. Still, he had earned the right to speak freely.
“Just two humans.”
Scola nodded and took a deep breath, “Isobel… I may not always like your decisions - hell, I may not always like you a whole lot - but I do always respect you and I know we all care about you.”
It was her who frowned this time, not expecting to hear anything like this coming from him.
“Look,” he continued, shifting slowly on the bed as he looked at the ground for a moment, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about what happened last month, I just haven’t found the right time. Anyway… there will always be a part of me that wishes you had trusted me with the truth.”
Isobel nodded, completely understanding that there was still some hurt there and that it would probably never go away.
“But I also know why you did it,” he added, looking her straight in the eyes. “I.. uh, I made some choices that day that I never thought I would make. The anger and the fear got to me some. So… yeah. I get why you did it.”
“But here’s the thing, Isobel,” he continued, looking seriously at her as he spoke. “Even if I didn’t understand. Even if I didn’t like you much at all… It wouldn’t have changed what happened yesterday. You’re still a part of the team. You’re still worth saving and bottom line, you’re still an innocent human who was about to get shot and I couldn’t sit there and just let that happen. I knew I had a better chance at making it out alive than you did because you didn’t know it was coming and he was aiming for center mass. It was a calculated risk and, for the most part, it worked out pretty well. Any one of us would have done the same thing, I was just the lucky one who saw the guy first.”
Isobel suddenly felt speechless. She didn’t have many heartfelt conversations with her field agents and usually when they did, the tone wasn’t very pleasant. Such was the nature of her position. But hearing him say these things… it just made sense and made her feel more at peace than she had in a while.
“And, um… I’m sorry if we’ve ever made you feel like you weren’t worth saving, or whatever,” he added, his eyes mostly on the ground. “I know my team would do just about anything for me, and you should have that feeling as well. So… yeah.”
Isobel shook her head with a smile, “Oh no. I do know that you all have my back, now more than ever. I guess I just got caught up in all of it.”
He nodded and shrugged with his good shoulder, “Getting shot at can do that. I know you aren’t used to that anymore,” he finished with a sly grin.
Isobel chuckled at his little jab at her, once again thankful for his attempts to break through some of the seriousness.
“That’s a fair point,” she laughed. “So, where’s Nina and how is she and the baby?”
“She was craving pancakes from Tick Tock Diner, so I told her to bring me back some,” he said, but then stopped and clarified, “Well she wasn’t craving them, of course. The baby was.”
Isobel laughed along with him.
“But they’re both good,” he responded, his tone more peaceful and serious., “Really good, actually.”
“Won’t be long now,” Isobel hummed.
“No, not at all,” he said, and Isobel could sense both nerves and joy in that statement.
“Well, the good news is you should be more than ready to pick the little guy up by the time he gets here,” Isobel said as she stood up and brought her purse to her shoulder. “Is there anything I can get for you before I go?”
Scola shook his head, “I’m good, thanks.”
“Right, well, as one human to another, I’m glad you’re feeling alright and I am grateful for what you did for me. As your boss, keep following medical advice. Got it?”
He chucked and nodded, “Got it.”
“I’ll see you later, Stuart.”
And with that, she left the hospital room feeling completely refreshed. Not only had she accomplished what she set out to do, but he had been given a new level of understanding of how her team felt about her.
And perhaps it wouldn’t be so horrible if she shifted that line between friendship and distant work acquaintances that she so fiercely walked almost every day slightly closer to the former. Maybe she could afford to lean into her team just a bit more than she normally did and maybe that would be beneficial for all of them. She could still never be as close to them as they were to each other, but she didn’t have to be an island all on her own, either.
Regardless, Isobel suddenly felt far more gratitude for being surrounded by some pretty cool humans and she would make a point to make sure they were aware of that from time to time.