[City Hospital] [Waiting area]
Jake paced by the vending machine with a half-empty coffee cup, muttering to himself. "Thirty guys. Rosa said thirty. Do you know how many that is? That's like… three Die Hards worth of henchmen. Maybe four."
Amy looked up at him from her chair and said, "Stop saying numbers. It makes me more anxious."
Charles leaned in, whispering like a kid sharing a ghost story. "I heard he used grenades. Like, actual grenades. Rosa said there were screams. She said one guy begged for his mother, and Ray blew up his penis."
Everyone looked at Charles with a gross expression.
Terry gave him a look that could shatter glass. "Stop talking about it. All of you. I mean it. After a mess that big, an internal investigation might come, and if higher-ups ask, we don't know what happened there. We got a tip, we showed up, and the place was already a disaster. End of story."
Jake froze mid-step, lowering his voice. "Right. Totally. He was never there. The room just… spontaneously exploded and all those guys folded in half by themselves. Classic Brooklyn."
Gina scrolled through her phone, barely glancing up. "I'm just saying if Netflix doesn't give him a series after this, the world is broken."
The automatic doors hissed open. Raymond walked into the waiting area, freshly showered, wearing a black jacket and dark jeans. His hair was still damp, and his calm expression gave away nothing to the casual eye.
Jake sprang forward. "Dude! You—"
Terry cleared his throat loud enough to rattle the snack machine.
Jake stopped. "I mean… Hey, Ray. Hello. Regular evening, right?"
Ray glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. "Very regular."
Before anyone could ask more, the doctor stepped out from the double doors. "Detective Diaz is out of surgery. Broken nose reset. She'll have some bruising for a while, but she's stable and awake. But high on anesthesia, so she might not be herself. And two visitors only."
Relief swept through the squad. Amy practically jumped to her feet. Charles sniffled into a napkin. Jake whispered, "She's gonna look so badass with a nose bandage."
Captain Holt rose from his chair and approached Raymond, signaling him to follow toward a quieter corner of the waiting area. His voice stayed low and deliberate.
"Officer White," Holt said. "You saved her life tonight. I am… grateful." He paused for a second, then added, "The FBI has already taken over the case. Their arrival was… unusually fast."
Ray met his gaze without blinking. "Good. They will make sure what's left of that crew disappears."
Holt studied him for a long moment. "I trust I do not need to explain the implications. Your presence there will never be officially acknowledged. If questions are asked, you were not involved."
"That's the plan," Raymond said simply.
Holt's voice dropped even lower. "You acted outside protocol. Some would call it reckless. Yet I suspect your reasons are personal."
Ray looked past Holt to the hallway where Rosa was recovering. His jaw tightened slightly. "I have lost enough friends in the past. Good people who didn't make it home because no one moved fast enough. I have power now. Skills, gear, and connections. Whatever you want to call it." He finally looked back at Holt, his tone steady but heavy. "I won't lose anyone close to me if I can stop it."
Holt regarded him with a rare flicker of emotion, the kind he reserved for moments that mattered. "The situation at the warehouse was dangerous; you should have called us. But… tonight, I will not argue with it."
Ray nodded once.
Behind them, Jake whispered way too loudly, "I still can't believe he took out thirty guys alone. He's like Punisher but with taxes."
Terry glared at him. "Terry hates repeating. He was never there."
"Right. Never there," Jake said, making a zipping motion across his lips. "Poof. Ghost man."
Holt let out a quiet breath and straightened his jacket. "Go see her. She'll want to know you are here."
Ray walked toward the recovery room. He pushed the door open slowly and went inside.
Rosa lay propped up against a stack of stiff hospital pillows. Her nose was taped, and a faint purple shadow was already forming under one eye. Her lips curled into a smirk the second she saw him.
"Oh, hey," She mumbled. "You are very handsome."
Ray pulled up the chair beside her bed.
"You're awake," he said.
Rosa squinted at him for a long moment. "You're… shiny."
Ray blinked. "Shiny?"
"Yeah," she said, nodding slowly, her words slightly slurred. "Like… a heroic… shiny… murder angel."
He tilted his head. "I don't think murder angels are officially recognized."
"You are now," Rosa said, reaching out to pat his shoulder and missing completely, smacking his chest instead. "Muscles. Good muscles. Yep. Solid."
Ray smirked. "You're on heavy painkillers."
"I'm on truth juice," she corrected with a proud nod. "And the truth is… you have a face that makes me want to… you know…" She made a vague swirling gesture in the air.
Ray leaned closer. "No, I don't know. You'll have to explain the swirl."
"Kiss your whole head," she whispered loudly, like it was classified information.
From the hallway, Jake's muffled voice could be heard. "Oh my God, she's adorable like this." He took out his phone and took a couple of quick pictures from the door gap.
Ray ignored him and said gently, "Well, that works out, because I am your boyfriend."
Rosa froze, then gasped in exaggerated slow motion. "BOY. FRIEND?"
"Yes."
She reached up and poked his cheek with the focus of a scientist pressing a button. "You're… my boyfriend?"
"Correct."
Her eyes widened like he had just handed her a baby tiger. "I have a boyfriend? Me? Rosa Diaz? Oh my God. I need to buy leather jackets for both of us. Matching ones. With skulls and fire."
Ray chuckled quietly. "Whatever you want."
She suddenly pointed at his chest. "Wait. If you're my boyfriend, does that mean… I can steal your fries… forever?"
Ray nodded solemnly. "That's the law."
Rosa melted back into her pillow with a blissful sigh. "Best boyfriend ever. You saved me. You're hot. And… unlimited fries."
Through the glass, the whole squad was pressed together like kids at an aquarium. Jake mouthed to the group, "I am dying."
Boyle sniffled. "She's letting the soft out. I'm witnessing history."
Amy whispered, "I can't believe she just said 'matching leather jackets.'"
Gina was silent, but she was already recording the entire situation.
Inside, Rosa suddenly sat up a little too fast, pointing at Ray again. "We're gonna ride your… no, MY bike… shirtless… at sunset… and then punch a druggie in an alley in the face!"
Ray kept his voice even. "We can negotiate the shirtless part."
"You're the best boyfriend," Rosa said again, then promptly flopped back down, mumbling, "Fries first, crime later…" before drifting half-asleep with a tiny smile.
Jake whispered outside the door, "I have to get that on a T-shirt."
Ray glanced toward the glass and saw the entire team staring. Instantly, everyone scattered around like pigeons. "Haaa..." He looked back at Rosa and kissed her forehead before walking out. He looked at Jake. "Tell me you got that on a video."
...
...
[Next Morning – 9:07 AM]
Machines beeped in the background. Rosa blinked against the brightness, her face still a constellation of bruises, but the swelling had gone down enough for her to glare again. Which she did, immediately, as the doctor shone a penlight near her eye.
"Everything looks okay," he said, stepping back. "That's a good sign."
Ray stood beside her bed. He hadn't left the hospital all night. His jacket was draped over the back of the chair, and a coffee can was in his hand.
The doctor tapped his clipboard and looked between them.
"Good news, Detective Diaz. You're clear to leave this morning. Vitals are solid, and there's no sign of a concussion or internal damage. That said, I'm putting you on strict rest orders. One week minimum. No field work, no physical activity, and definitely no punching anyone in the throat."
Rosa scoffed. "That last part's optional, right?"
The doctor gave her a flat look. "No. That part is literal."
She crossed her arms with a frustrated sigh. "This sucks."
"It's either that or risk breaking your nose again," he said. "And considering the fracture, you're looking at six to eight weeks before it fully heals. You'll be sore. Your breathing might be off. And you'll need to keep the splint in place for at least ten days. After that, we'll check the alignment."
Raymond simply shook his head. "We'll follow it exactly. No exceptions."
Rosa glanced at him, then muttered, "Snitch."
Ray didn't react. "You almost died yesterday. Rest is non-negotiable."
The doctor gave them a polite nod. "I'll send the discharge paperwork. Take care of yourself, Detective."
Once he left the room, Rosa groaned and rubbed her forehead gently. Her nose brace made the movement awkward. "I can't believe I'm going to be stuck in bed for a week. Then, the Captain will put me on desk duty. Argg! I'm going to go insane."
Ray sat down on the edge of her bed, his expression calm but firm. He looked like a man who had spent the entire night watching someone breathe just to make sure she kept doing it. His hand rested on her blanket near her leg, not quite touching, but close enough to ground her.
"You're alive," he said. "That's the part that matters."
Rosa looked at him with irritation, but there was a softness under it that hadn't been there before. She slumped against her pillows and stared at the ceiling.
"I know. I just hate feeling useless."
"You're not useless. You just got jumped by a gang of cowards hiding behind numbers. They didn't beat you. They just caught you between oil stains and socket wrenches."
Rosa blinked. "That almost sounded poetic."
Ray shrugged. "I had a whole speech about tactical disadvantage ready to go, but I figured I'd save it for when you're on fewer drugs."
"I'm not high anymore."
Ray gave her a look.
"Okay, I'm a little high," she admitted, then sighed again. "I hate this."
Ray reached forward and gently took her hand. She let him.
"You're going to heal. You're going to be pissed off for a while. You'll threaten to punch someone before you're technically cleared to do it. And you'll ignore half the medical advice even though you promised to follow it."
Rosa raised an eyebrow. "Are you psychic now?"
"No. Just observant. And I know you."
She stared at him for a long moment, then squeezed his hand lightly. There was a moment of pause before she spoke, "Since I'll be stuck at home and everyone will be paying visits... Arg! I have to find a new apartment again after 8 weeks."
"Move in with me," He said.
She stared at him, trying to figure out if the drugs were making her hallucinate. Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. A full five seconds passed before she finally muttered, "Move in with you?"
Ray nodded, completely serious.
She narrowed her eyes. "Like… live? In the same space? Cohabitation? With toothbrushes next to each other and shared punching bags and yoga mats?"
"Yes."
"Is this about my meds?" she asked, gesturing vaguely at her face. "Because I swear, I can take them on time. You don't have to babysit me."
"It's not about the meds."
"Then is it about making sure I don't punch someone before I'm cleared for field duty?"
"You'll definitely punch someone before then," he said, without hesitation.
Rosa blinked again. Her brain was glitched up, and too many thoughts ran through her mind for her to keep up with. She wasn't used to this type of situation. "So… is this permanent? Temporary? A trial period? Do I get a lease? Do you have guest towels? Do I have to meet your plants?"
Ray just looked at her. He was unbothered by the incoming verbal storm.
"I talk in my sleep," she continued. "I sometimes mutter threats. Sometimes it's in Spanish. Sometimes I describe murder scenarios in great detail. And I drool a little."
Ray leaned in slightly. "I know."
"I also snore when I'm drunk. And I keep an axe under the mattress and a butcher knife under my pillow."
"That's cute."
Rosa narrowed her eyes again. "What if I get weird about your kitchen layout? What if I rearrange your tactical gear by accident? What if you leave beard hair in the sink and I get irrationally mad and burn the whole apartment down?"
Ray didn't say anything. He simply moved closer and kissed her. She closed her eyes and kissed him back. It was a soft and sweet kiss that lasted for like 10 seconds or so.
He pulled back and looked into her eyes and said, "I wasn't asking your permission. I am telling you that you are moving in with me till you get all healed up. Then we'll see..."
"Fine," She said softly with a little smile. 'God, I love him so much.'
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[25 advance chs] [No double billing.]
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