Necessary goodbyes

The first thing I registered was the cold, sterile smell—a mix of disinfectant and dry air conditioning. Then came the steady, rhythmic beep... beep... beep... of a cardiac monitor next to my head. I tried to move, and a dull ache settled across my chest.

When I forced my eyes open, the bright fluorescent light above was blurred, but the four massive figures clustered around my bedside were unmistakable. Charlie was standing closest, his normally pristine suit slightly rumpled. Cheech was a hulking, silent presence near the foot of the bed, his arms crossed, the concern etched deep into his features. Cathal leaned against the wall, watchful and tense.

And then there was Vic. He was sitting beside me, his good eye fixed on my face. His black eye had deepened to an angry purple, and the skin around his nose was still swollen, the bridge covered in a small, taped splint. He looked exhausted, but relieved.

My throat was dry, scratchy. I swallowed hard and managed a weak whisper.

“What happened?”

The simple effort of speaking, of trying to grasp the reality of the last few hours, was too much. The sterile white ceiling swam, the faces of the four men tilted and merged, and the rhythmic beeping of the monitor faded into a deep, comforting silence.

A short time later—it felt like mere seconds, though it could have been minutes or hours—my eyes snapped open again. This time, the edges of the room were sharper. The four men were still there, leaning forward now, their faces closer, their anxiety palpable.

Vic immediately reached out and gently laid his hand over mine, avoiding the IV line running into the back of my hand.

“Hey, you’re back,” he murmured, his voice thick with relief. “Don't talk. Just look at me.”

Cheech let out a heavy sigh that sounded like a gust of wind. “Don’t ask what happened again, Deppgrl. Just breathe. We've been sweating bullets here.”

Before I could form a response, the heavy door clicked open. Two men entered the room, moving with the practiced efficiency of doctors. One was familiar: Bobby, the team doctor, looking tired but alert. The other was a distinguished-looking man in a crisp white coat with a name tag that read: Dr. Ronan Hayes, Head of Emergency Services.

I looked at Ronan, finding a hard time how I knew him. I strained to focus. “Bobby,” I rasped, ignoring the new face and trying to get a straight answer from someone familiar.

Bobby walked straight to my bedside, his eyes scanning the monitors. “Welcome back, Coach. Glad to see those eyes open. We're running on fumes here, too.”

Vic, still holding my hand, looked up at the doctors, his voice strained and raw. “How is she, Doc? Is this going to be long-term?”

Charlie stepped forward, running a hand over his hair in frustration. “She doesn't normally pass out like that, Doctor. We think it’s the stress, dehydration, and not sleeping for the last thirty-six hours that finally caught up with her. It was a hell of a day.”

Dr. Hayes looked at the screen, then at me, his tone firm. “We’ve stabilized her heart rate as her heart rate was a bit high and given her fluids. Bobby and I reviewed the situation. The cumulative stress is immense. It was an adrenaline crash, compounded by physical exhaustion and severe dehydration. She needs absolute quiet and rest.” He looked sternly at the four men. “Which means only one person stays, and the rest need to leave immediately. This is not a social hour.”

Vic tightened his grip on my hand, pulling my attention back to him. “I’m staying.”

“Vic, your face looks like a road map of a fight club,” Cathal noted dryly, stepping away from the wall. “You look worse than she does, man. Go get some actual sleep.”

“Not until she’s fully alert and we’ve talked,” Vic insisted, his gaze locked on me, challenging anyone to argue.

I managed a slight squeeze of his hand. It was the only signal I could offer.

“Vic stays,” I rasped, my voice sounding like sandpaper. “The rest of you, go. Thank you.” I looked at Cheech, who looked ready to argue. “Call Kay.”

Cheech nodded instantly, his eyes tightening with understanding. Charlie sighed, looking defeated but compliant, knowing an order was an order.

“We’ll be right outside, Coach. Literally,” Charlie promised, pulling Cathal and Cheech with him. “Don't move a muscle without telling me.”

As the door clicked shut, leaving only Vic, Bobby, and Dr. Hayes, I took a deep, shaky breath. Six hours of sleep and constant IV hydration had finally pulled me back from the edge, leaving me weak but present.

Dr. Hayes consulted a tablet clipped to the foot of the bed. “Through constant monitoring and testing through the night, the final results confirm your assessment, Coach. This was a severe case of stress, exhaustion, and dehydration. Her body simply shut down.”

“Dr. Hayes,” Bobby began, looking worried. “We need to discuss the specific treatment plan before we move forward. I have her medical history on file.”

Dr. Hayes held up a hand, cutting him off politely but firmly. “Bobby, I appreciate the excellent temporary care you’ve provided, but I’ll need to take over now. For patient privacy, and due to the sensitive nature of the information we'll discuss, I need to ask you to leave. As a longtime friend of the patient, you can’t maintain a dual relationship with you also being her primary care physician at the moment, especially given the situation.”

Bobby paused, then nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation and the unwritten rules. “Of course, Doctor. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything at all.” He gave me a brief, concerned look and left.

Dr. Hayes sighed softly as the door closed, before turning back to me, a genuine, warm smile finally breaking through his professional demeanor. Ronan, my old college friend, was still in there somewhere.

He walked over and sat down gently on the edge of the bed by my feet. “Listen, you idiot,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, affectionate register. “You scared the hell out of everyone. Vic wouldn't leave your side, Charlie looked like he was having a stroke, and Cheech nearly took the emergency room apart trying to find me. Don’t start me on Cathal…..I swear he’s your long lost twin. You owe me big for this one.”

“Sorry, Ronan,” I mumbled, feeling the old guilt surface. “I’ll pay whatever damages were done by Cheech. And thanks for hiding our friendship; I owe you for that too.”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your body. Look, you’re stable, but I want you to stay for a few more hours. We need to run some repeat tests to ensure you’re completely clear, medically safe, and that all your vitals are holding steady before I sign off on your release. You need to be better before I do so,” he said, squeezing my foot. “You’re welcome. I’m thankful that Cheech didn’t blow the secret but he was close! Now rest.”

I nodded slightly. “As long as I get to nap in between testing, I’m okay with it. Don’t try to talk to me when I’m sleeping, okay? I get cranky.”

Ronan chuckled softly. “Deal. Now, you sleep. I’ll be back in a bit to start the next round of blood work.” He squeezed my foot through the sheet, a gesture of old friendship, and rose quietly.

I was asleep before he left the room.

I slept through the next round of testing, only vaguely registering the cool pressure of the blood pressure cuff. I was eventually woken up by Ronan gently shaking my shoulder.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, pulling back the curtain. “All done. All clear to go. You’re good to go.”

Vic immediately rushed in, followed by Charlie. Vic’s face showed the strain of the last 12 hours, but he looked completely relieved.

Ronan looked at Charlie. “She’s medically safe to leave but needs rest and to follow Ronan’s instructions to the letter. No working for at least 48 hours. Get her out of here, Charlie.”

Charlie stepped forward, rubbing his hands together. “Excellent news. I’ve already done some damage control. Vic, your flight home has been extended for another eight days. Your boss understood that this was a legitimate emergency, and once I sent your wife pictures of that face, she stopped arguing. She thinks you’re legitimately too hurt to fly and needs a few days to recover.”

I stretched, letting out a massive, audible yawn. “That’s fantastic. Thank you, Charlie. I really appreciate that.”

Charlie nodded. “We’re heading back to the first hotel, but you’ll be in a different room—a heavily secured suite on a secure wing for diplomats. We’ll have security throughout the hotel for the next few days until things settle down. Just for your peace of mind,” He leaned down and lowered his voice, winking conspiratorially. “Dr. Hayes told me your urine test came back pristine clean. No need to worry about that mandated test on Tuesday.”

I gave him a wide, genuine smile. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

Vic walked over and held up a small plastic bag for me to see. “These are instant ice packs, pain medication, and antibiotics—both oral tablets and eye drops—to make sure my eye doesn’t get infected. Ronan had an ER doctor and an ophthalmologist check me out as a precaution. They were impressed with Bobby's temporary splint and confirmed nothing was seriously damaged. Like I said, the antibiotics are a precaution.”

Just then, Cheech cleared his throat from the doorway. He looked anxious, his massive frame shifting nervously.

I knew this was the important part. I gave Charlie a look, and he nodded, immediately ushering Vic out.

“Give the Coach a minute, Vic. We need to talk to her about the logistics and new team schedule,” Charlie lied smoothly, guiding Vic toward the door.

Once the door was closed, Cheech stepped in and closed the door behind him. “Kay did the impossible. She got a certified copy of Patrick’s death certificate, signed by four separate medical doctors. They were the ones who confirmed his death was real. They also sent over a certified copy of the autopsy report. He is officially gone.”

I let out a shuddering sigh of relief that I hadn't realized I was holding. “Thank fuck. That’s good. That weight is finally gone.”

Cheech nodded, but his expression remained serious. “Look, Deppgrl. The underground is buzzing with rumors that Bunny and I helped you escape, and that’s enough for us. We need to disappear for a few years and Kay agrees. We need cosmetic surgery to alter our appearances and get new identities; Kay is helping us with everything. As her clients, she can’t break confidentiality. We hope to see you in a few years, but the possible connection between us has to be forgotten in the meantime due to those rumors. We're too well-known.” He leaned in, his voice thick with emotion. “Your brother Bob will be the only one who can contact us.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “Don’t say that. I can’t lose you guys. You’re family.”

“You won’t lose us,” Cheech insisted, stepping closer. “It's too dangerous right now. I’ll call Bob soon and fill him in on everything. Including that you’re okay, but that we’re gone. He’ll handle everything else. Be safe, Coach.” He reached out and gently squeezed my shoulder.

“I love you, Cheech. Be safe. Both of you.”

He nodded, a deep sadness in his eyes, and then he was gone.

Vic came back in a minute later, carrying a large tote bag with my clothes, phones, IDs, the licenses for the gun and taser, and my utility belt. Cathal followed, carrying the gun and taser himself, as Vic didn't have the necessary clearances or licensure for either weapon.

“Time to get dressed, Deppgrl,” Vic said gently, looking concerned. “Cathal’s driving us back. You ready to move?”

Vic and Cathal helped me out of the bed. My body felt heavy and brittle, a patchwork of aches and bruises from the fall. I let them help me into my clothes, and Bobby returned with a wheelchair, already waiting by the door.

We took the elevator down to the loading dock where Cathal’s sedan was parked. Charlie and Scott were waiting there. Scott came over and made sure I was safely transferred into the back seat. Charlie hovered nearby, looking pale and subdued. They would follow us back to the hotel to assist me in getting out, ensuring a smooth transition.

“Try to relax, Coach. Don’t even think about the team until Wednesday,” Charlie instructed. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Cathal took off, driving slowly and carefully, knowing I was in pain from the significant bruising and fall. We arrived at the second hotel room in the first hotel just ahead of Charlie and Scott.

I gathered myself and the tote bag, preparing for the unwanted help. As Cathal opened the car door, he intercepted Scott, who was eager to assist.

“Scott, wait. She’s covered in bruises, man. Be careful and e gentle with her,” Cathal warned in a low voice, positioning himself between Scott and the car door. “I’ll have your head if she’s in pain when you get her out of the car.”

Scott nodded, his expression softening slightly. He carefully helped me swing my legs out of the car. The second my feet were on the ground, I grabbed Vic’s arm, pulling him close and leaning heavily on him.

I whispered to Vic: “Make it look like I don’t need anyone else but you, Papa. Get Scott to back off so he leaves on his own. I need Charlie and Cathal gone once I’m settled.”

Vic immediately put his arm securely around my waist and gave Scott a polite but firm look. “I’ve got her, Scott. Thanks for help getting her and out of the car, man.”

Scott hesitated for a moment, then backed away, recognizing the dismissal. Charlie firmly told Scott to wait at the car as Charlie had some private team information to share with me and since Scott is currently suspended, he isn’t authorized to hear it. Scott turned and headed back to Cathal’s waiting car without a word.

Vic, Charlie and Cathal helped me into the hotel suite and onto a plush armchair.

“Alright, Coach, here’s the plan,” Charlie announced, pulling out his phone. “You are officially taking Monday and Tuesday off. No check-ins, no calls. You need to recover and sleep. Vic will look after you.”

“And who will be babysitting the team? I’m worried they’ll think I’m abandoning them,” I asked, rubbing my temples.

“Cathal and I will handle it. We already told the players the drill,” Charlie said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “They know Cathal isn’t as nice nor as beautiful as you are. They are now on three-a-day practices for the rest of the week. They'll be too tired to cause trouble when you return.”

Cathal added, “A morning practice focused entirely on team-building skills, then lunch and a quick, mandatory therapy session, followed by the afternoon practice dedicated to plays and scrimmages. Plus, both offense and defense players will learn the plays of the others. Offense will learn defense, and defense will learn offense. No more silos. You'll thank us later.”

I smiled, despite the pain. “I love that. It’ll help grow the team and open them up to trick plays and personnel changes during games. That’s brilliant. You two did a good job.”

Charlie laughed. “See? We can be smart sometimes. Get some rest, Deppgrl. We’ll see you Wednesday. Don't worry about a thing.”

“Thank you, both of you. You’ve been absolute lifesavers,” I said, feeling the exhaustion hit immediately.

Charlie and Cathal left, closing the door softly.

Vic came back from locking the door, and I was already fast asleep in the armchair. He left me there for an hour and a half, letting me catch up on the sleep I needed.

I woke with a gasp when Vic gently shook my shoulder.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Time to move,” he said softly. “Want a shower and something to eat? You need food, amore, not just IV fluid.”

“Yes, please,” I murmured, my stomach protesting immediately. “But I need help in the shower. I can’t risk falling and hurting myself worse.”

“I’d be happy to help, but slow and steady,” he said, his voice warm.

He helped me to my feet, steadying me as I swayed slightly. I let him undress me, then he quickly stripped off his own clothes. He carried me into the bathroom and set me gently on my feet, allowing me to lean against the marble sink while he tested the water temperature.

Once the water was perfect, he stepped in first, then helped me over the tub. I immediately grabbed the support bar mounted on the shower wall. He went to work, carefully washing and conditioning my hair.

“Do you need help with washing your body?” he asked, his hands moving gently over my curves, checking my bruising with a feather-light touch.

“No, I think I can manage that part,” I whispered, trying to reach the soap dish. As I tried to bend, a flash of pain hit my ribs, and I nearly slipped. He caught me instantly, his powerful arms locking around my waist.

“Nope. My job now,” he declared, his voice firm but tender. “You just hold on.”

He scrubbed my body, paying careful attention to my back and legs, then told me to hold on tight to the bar as he quickly washed his own body. After we rinsed off the last of the suds, he turned the water off, grabbed a fresh towel for me, then one for himself. We dried off, and he carried me, wrapped in the towel, straight to the bed.

Vic carefully placed me on the crisp hotel sheets and placed my robe around me. He looked down at me, a genuine, if exhausted, smile on his face.

“Okay, you’re clean and you need clothes. Sweats and fuzzy socks?” he asked. “Then, we eat. What are you craving? And don't even think about saying salad,” he warned, a playful edge in his voice.

I sighed happily, sinking into the soft mattress. “You know me too well. Yes, to the sweats and fuzzy socks. What I want most is you, Papa, but food wise, I’d love birria tacos—tons of them—with that incredible consume to dip them in. And the greasiest refried beans and the best rice you can find.”

Vic chuckled, running a hand through his damp hair. “If I had the ingredients and a full kitchen, I’d cook that entire meal for you myself, bruises and all. I figured that was exactly what you wanted. I called the Mexican place just after Charlie and Cathal were leaving to confirm that birria tacos were on the menu.”

Vic grabbed my clothes from the dressers and had picked the ugliest panties I own—so faded and the waist band so stretched out. I couldn’t help but laughed when I saw them. He placed them next to me and then remembered that he needed to order before the restaurant got busy.

“Do you want help to get dressed before I order? Or are we prioritizing food?” he asked, his eyes crinkling.

“I’ll wait as all I want is food right now. Don't keep me from my tacos,” I said.

“I’m going to place the order then. I’ll step out of the bedroom and into the kitchenette to make the call so you can rest if you want to.”

I nodded and watched this gorgeous man leave the bedroom. At times like this, I wish I was married to him because of how much he takes care of me but at the same time, I’m glad that we’re not married as we’d constantly cheat on each other. Thinking about this conundrum, I couldn’t fall asleep though my eyes were closed but grateful for the silence.

“Amore?” Vic said quietly as he entered the room. I opened my eyes so he knew that I was awake. “I just placed the order. Four orders of birria tacos—that’s twenty tacos total—two orders for you, two for me. There’s going to be so much rice and I asked for the greasiest refried beans that they could make. And they came with horchata, which I know you love.”

“You’re the best,” I whispered and smiled, feeling a genuine warmth spread through me. “Thank you for taking care of everything.”

“They said the order will be ready in ten minutes but delivered to the hotel in fifteen meets and delivered to the room by an agent. So, we need to get decent to open the door, even if it’s just for the agent.”

“I’m not sure how the agents would be able to handle your weapon, Papa,” I chuckled, a playful challenge in my eyes as I glanced at his briefs. “They’d definitely be envious.”

Vic laughed hard and loud at that then quickly pulled on a pair of briefs and a t-shirt. He then helped me out of the towel and robe and into some comfy clothes—soft sweatpants, my ugliest panties, an oversized t-shirt, and hotel slippers, leaving the socks and the sweatshirt to the side for now. Just as I was about to drift off, a sharp knock came at the door.

Vic glanced at the peephole. “Hold up. That’s not the guy who usually covers this floor. He's new.” He grabbed the burner phone. “I’m calling Cosmos.”

He waited a beat, then spoke into the phone. “Cosmos, it’s Vic in 1403. We have an agent at the door with our food, but I don’t recognize him. Tall guy, dark hair, looks like he’s trying too hard to blend in. Can you send up Agent Riley to confirm the agent before I open this?” He listened for a moment. “Got it. Thanks, man.”

After hanging up and a knock on the door a minute later, Vic looked through the peephole again and opened the door just enough for Agent Riley to confirm Agent Parker. Vic took the massive paper bag of food, thanked the agents and as he was closing the door, Agent Riley said that in the morning, he would get all the agents working in the hotel assigned to us as well as assigned to diplomats and have us meet them so we would know who they were.

“Would it be ok if I did a background check on them after we meet them all? For my peace of mind?” I asked, stepping up behind Vic.

“We already have, ma’am! Sorry….Coach,” Riley said, nodding respectfully. “You’re more than welcome to. We understand that you’ve had a few rough days and want to be extra cautious. I’ll bring a list of third party companies for you to use, if you'd like.”

“Thank you, Agent Riley,” I said. “I appreciate the list but the companies would be partial to you guys. I have contacts in companies I’ve used around the world. If you could just provide the roster in the morning.”

He nodded, a slight smile showing his appreciation for my cautious nature, then left. Vic carried the still piping hot food and the ice cold horchata to the table in front of the couch.

Once our butts were sat on the couch, Vic carefully arranging the containers on that tiny table as I turned on the tv and chose a movie. We ate both our orders in what felt like no time at all. Neither of us had realized how truly famished we were. We quickly finished the sweet, creamy horchata. We looked at our clothes and our hands then laughed. Our shirts and arms were covered in grease and consume from the birria tacos. We got up to wash our hands. In the bathroom, I grabbed a travel sized pouch of laundry detergent. “These shirts are done for if we don’t hit these stains now,” I squirted a small amount of detergent directly onto the grease spots on both shirts for pre-treatment. Vic plugged the tub and turned the water running. As the tub filled, I poured the rest of the pouch under the running water, creating suds. After a few minutes, he stopped the water, and I tossed our shirts into the soak.

We headed back into the living room area of the suite. Vic gathered the containers, wiping down the table with a napkin while I put on a different oversized shirt. I sat down and when he was done, he scooped me up off the couch. “Alright, back to bed, you. You look like you're about to fall over.”

He slid me under the covers. “I sleep better naked,” I mumbled, already halfway to sleep and reaching for my clothes.

“I know, amore. I sleep better when you’re naked too,” he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble as he gently pulled the blankets tightly around me. “But you’ve been shivering non-stop for the last forty-five minutes. I need you to just sleep for a little bit while I talk to Ronan about why you’ve been shivering. You're not cold, but your body thinks it is.”

I fell asleep before Vic left the room.

“Hey Ronan, I am so sorry to bother you again,” Vic said quietly into the phone from the kitchenette. “Deppgrl has been shivering for about forty-five minutes but she’s not cold. I know she had an IV of saline solution while she was in the hospital. She ate well, drank more water and is alert but still tired.”

Ronan’s voice was instantly concerned. “Is she more tired than usual or did she have a ton of those rehydration packets mixed with water? If she had a few of those packets since getting home, it would cause too much hydration, which can mimic hypothermia in rare cases. Is she sleeping right now?”

“Yeah she is,” Vic said, rubbing his temple. “Should I wake her and bring her in? I don’t like this, Doc.”

“I want eyes on her. I’ll feel better if we check her electrolytes again,” Ronan instructed. “I should be there in about ten minutes. When can we expect you there?”

“About fifteen minutes,” Vic sighed. “She hates being woken up and can be a bit of a bear, so give me a few minutes to get her moving and explain why we’re going back.”

They hung up then Vic reached out to Agent Riley to tell him that we need a ride back to the hospital and then came to wake me up.

“Amore? Mama…?” Vic said, shaking me gently. “Wake up. Ronan wants you back at the hospital, just for a quick check. He’s already on his way.”

“Ok,” I mumbled as I got out of the bed and made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth, too tired to argue.

When I was done, I grabbed my glasses, my two passports, my phones and their chargers. I walked over to Vic. When we stepped out of the room, Agent Riley and a few others that we have seen before, escorted us to an SUV and we sped off to the ER.

Vic got out of the SUV, picked me up out of the SUV and carried me through the ER doors to a gurney that was waiting by the door for us. One of the nurses pushed the gurney and I to an exam room where Ronan just arrived to. Between Ronan and a few nurses, they took my vitals and took a few vials of blood. My blood pressure was a little lower than usual, my temperature was in range, and my oxygen levels were also fine. I slept as the blood work was being run.

I woke up for a few seconds to overhear Vic and Ronan compare a CT scan and PET scan for imaging. “I want to be absolutely certain we haven’t missed anything, Ronan. We need both,” Vic insisted, his voice low and firm. “No expense spared.” Ronan agreed. I vaguely remember being sent for both sets of imaging as all I was doing was sleeping.

By the time I got back to the exam room, I woke up and Ronan looked a bit relieved, flipping through a report on his tablet.

“Ok, trouble,” Ronan said, sitting down on the stool. “Good news is that your blood work is fine—your electrolytes are back in range, and the shivering should stop soon. The preliminary read on the PET and CT scans are a bit inconclusive, but we should get the final radiologist report soon. How you feeling? Any more shivering?”

“Exhausted and not so thirsty anymore,” I yawned, rubbing my eyes. “Honestly, I think I am just recovering from the whole ordeal with Patrick, the exhaustion, and the dehydration from checking out Auckland. All this moving around isn't helping, Ronan. Can I just go home?”

“Let’s hope that’s the end of it,” Ronan said, nodding to a nurse. “Pia Louise, one of my favorite nurses on staff, will set you up on a monitor while we wait on the imaging results. Just a temporary measure. We don't leave until we get the all-clear from Radiology.”

“Even if I don’t want to? I'm tired of monitors,” I asked.

“Yes, Deppgrl,” Ronan said with a tired grin. “You’re still, by far, the worst patient I have ever met in my entire working life as a physician. Now let Pia do her job.”

I threw him a look that made him laugh as Pia walked into the room to set me the monitor. Once set up to the machine, Pia took my temperature and blood pressure again and both were fine. Feeling frustrated that I was back in the hospital and feeling like I was caught up on sleep, I asked Vic if he wanted to join me on the gurney as he looked as tired as tired could be. He kicked his flipflops off and joined me on the gurney and once I was snug in is arms, he fell asleep almost instantly.