I first got the idea for this story when I heard the song 'Close Your Eyes' by Michael Bublé. When I heard the song again weeks later, I decided to finally finish writing it. Everything medical in this story is a combination of Google and my imagination. All characters belong to Janet. The mistakes are mine. Warnings for language.

"Babe, wake up," I repeated, for what had to be the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes.

Usually I'm able to compartmentalize my emotions, but today that isn't an option. I need to hear Stephanie's voice to block out the sound of the semi automatic firing. This time a gun hadn't gone off to protect Stephanie, it had hurt her instead. And if the bullet had gone a millimeter in another direction, it would have taken the lives of both of us. If Stephanie died ... I would, too. Simple as that.

I love Stephanie Plum. That hasn't been a secret to anyone for quite some time, but I didn't realize just how much I've come to depend on her ... for a lot of things. And right now, my sanity is only being held together by a steadily beeping machine attached to her.

Until Stephanie opens those beautiful blue eyes of hers, and tells me that I've been worried for nothing, my ass is going to stayed glued to this chair while I will her awake. I've done similar things in the past when I broke into her apartment late at night and hoped she'd sense me and wake up, but this is different ... scarier. And I'm a man with a reputation for not being scared of anything. For years I've agreed with that assessment ... until today, when I almost lost the only person I've ever lived for.

I knew Mace had a gun trained on Stephanie, but I thought I'd have enough time to get her out of the line of fire before he had a chance to use it. Just before his finger pulled the trigger tight, I tackled her. The bullet tore through her arm instead of her head, which would have been a relief except it nicked an artery in the process and she could have bled out if we'd been any further away from the hospital.

After all the times Stephanie has told me on my way out the door not to get shot, she's the one who was hit. And I've never been more pissed, terrified, and thankful. I gave up praying years ago when I stopped believing that I deserve any answered, but I was ready to try again today. If I wasn't here with Stephanie, refusing to leave her for any reason, Mace would already be just another unidentifiable body the police will never find. I'll get to him, I promised myself. Mace will regret ever hearing Stephanie's name by the time I'm done with him. Until then, I trust Tank to keep Mace alive enough for me so I can take him out personally. Nobody fucks with the people I care about. And hurting Stephanie is an automatic one way ticket to hell. And Mace will be shaking hands with the devil as soon as Stephanie regains consciousness.

Her doctor has already assured me that she'll be fine, and that there shouldn't be much permanent damage aside from an obvious scar for Stephanie and yet another emotional one for me. Steph and I aren't the only ones affected by today's events. Tank and Bobby were acting as our backup, and they also had to watch Stephanie fall to the ground and were forced to step in her blood to get close enough in order to assist me.

I immediately opened my eyes to clear that image from my mind. But whether my eyes are open or closed didn't change what they're seeing. The only difference is ... open I can also see the black uniforms of the men guarding the door when I turn my head. There's no one to protect Stephanie from, but I understand why they're standing there. The men had to feel like they're doing something to help her, since waking up is solely up to Stephanie now.

Bobby, Lester, and Hal have been standing for hours, first in the waiting room, then outside her private room when she was finally moved to one, only leaving the area to make coffee runs. A few more of the men are still camped out in the waiting room along with Steph's parents. If Rangeman wasn't such a generous contributor to the hospital, we would have all been thrown out by now. Money may not buy happiness, but it can get you certain privileges that you wouldn't have otherwise.

Stephanie has slowly changed all of us. And it was unthinkable that someone would or could hurt her. She had been surrounded by the people she trusts more than anyone else, and she still fucking got shot. Every single one of us saw this as a personal failure. It didn't matter that I knocked Stephanie out of the way, that she would've only had a flesh wound if the bullet had been a different caliber, or even that I was able to slow her blood loss and get Stephanie to the ER in time. None of that made a damn bit of difference to me or anyone outside that door.

We're bodyguards, that's what people pay us big money for. And we are the best. But the four of us couldn't keep one woman - the most important woman - safe. I can almost hear Stephanie's voice in my head, telling me that these kinds of things always happen to her and that I couldn't have prevented it, just like I couldn't have spared her all the other injuries she's suffered through since I've known her.

"I could have prevented it, Babe," I said out loud, kissing the knuckles of the hand I was holding. "I should have gotten to you sooner as Tank was lining up the shot to neutralize Mace. That half a second could have ended our life together. And that's unacceptable. No one is allowed to separate us, Stephanie. Not Joe, Mace, or even God if there is one. You have to open your eyes, Babe, and let me know that you're all right."

I could picture her smiling face in my mind. If I didn't know she's out cold, I'd swear Stephanie was laughing at me. The man she claims is always in control is slowly losing it.

"There is nothing funny about any of this, Stephanie. You need to get up, get out of that hospital bed, and get back to our life at Rangeman. Your doctor said you should be awake by now, and every second that ticks by is one more we're missing out on. I'd order you to snap out of it if I didn't think you'd pretend to be unconscious just to get back at me."

Stephanie would do it, too. She's as stubborn as she is beautiful.

The door opened and Bobby stuck his head in the room.

"Hal's hitting the cafeteria, you want anything?"

"No."

Bobby's eyes went to the small figure on the bed in front of me.

"Nothing yet?" He asked.

"Not even a twitch," I told him.

"They said any time, Ranger. Steph will be awake soon, and chewing your ass out for not eating anything in hours."

"I'm used to going without food."

"Before Stephanie, maybe," Bobby said to me. "But she's worse than Ella when it comes to fussing over everyone. You most of all."

"Steph can fuss, bitch, and scream all she wants," I told Bobby, "as long as she wakes up to do it."

Bobby came further into the room and squeezed my shoulder. He then reached past me and tugged gently on one of the brown curls framing Stephanie's face.

"She scared the fucking shit out of us," Bobby said.

I could see his throat working, trying to keep any emotion from escaping. This is what Stephanie has done to us. We've all been trained by the best to be expressionless, to never let a weakness show that can be used to hurt us or someone else, but this 'girl from the Burg' has completely fucked with years of the most intense physical and psychological training the government could throw at us.

"She did," I said finally.

"But Steph will be fine," Bobby said, trying to reassure me and himself. "The doctor said so."

"Yeah, he did. But I'm not going to be satisfied until Stephanie tells me that herself."

There was a ghost of a grin the crossed Bobby's face. "You always were hard to please."

"Still am."

The only thing that completely pleases me is laying in a hospital bed, refusing to wake the hell up.

Santos was next to interrupt. "Is she up?" He asked, before noticing Stephanie's still closed eyes. "Fuck. Bobby has been in here longer than I expected. I was hoping that meant Steph was awake."

"Not yet," Bobby said, so I wouldn't have to again. "But she'll be back to busting our balls soon."

Not that I've had much experience with the sensation, but the last couple hours have done a good fucking job of showing me that I hate feeling powerless.

"This waiting shit is killing me," Santos said to the room.

It's ten times worse for me. I'd prefer someone torture then kill me rather than have to watch Stephanie get hurt. Facing my own death again would be a cakewalk compared to this.

"It's killing all of us, but there's nothing else we can do right now," Bobby told Lester. "Good thing Stephanie is so fucking impatient. She'd never tolerate being unconscious for long. She's gonna come to with a shitload of questions that she'll want answered ASAP, and she'll be demanding doughnuts and Mace's ass for pulling a gun on her."

"That's true," he told Bobby. "Tank is having a hard time not putting another bullet - a fatal one this time - in Mace and hightailing it over here."

"He has his orders," I told Santos.

"Yeah, doesn't mean he likes them worth a fuck, though."

"He doesn't have to. Tank just has to follow them. When Stephanie wakes up, he can put Cal and Junior on Mace so he can see her. But right now ... he stays put."

"That should shut Tank up for a little while," Lester said, his gaze straying to the bed. "Stephanie could shut us all up if she'd just get conscious already."

"Tell her that," Bobby said to him.

"I just did."

"You sure you don't want something?" Bobby asked me again. "Coffee, a sandwich, bottle of whiskey?"

"No to all three," I told him. "The only thing I want can't be bought."

"She'll be okay, Ranger," Santos said, his usual humor MIA. "It's impossible for her not to be."

I wanted to believe that, but I have to wait and see the truth of that myself reflected in her blue eyes. Until that moment happens, I'm still watching her blood soak the ground around us.

Santos followed Bobby out, and I was once again alone with Stephanie. She always complains that I never talk, but between the adrenaline crash, being scared shitless, and my own morbid thoughts, I'm more than willing to talk now. Stephanie can wake up and tell me to shut the fuck up if it bothered her.

"The men would kill me for telling you this, Babe, but they were all visibly shaken when word got out that you'd been hit. These are men who are shot at daily, have been beaten so badly at times that recovery seemed like a pipe dream, and have withstood years of people screaming at them to hide all traces of their thoughts and feelings, but it was clear to anyone looking how much they care about you when they found out you were being rushed to the ER. And that isn't something the guys appreciate, but they've had to deal with unexpected emotion much like I have ... because of you."

I spread her limp hand out over my much larger, much darker palm, kissed the back of it again, before wrapping my fingers securely around hers. Stephanie would find it ironic that she almost died, but her nails are still flawless. She had tried telling Mary Lou that there was no point in getting a manicure yesterday, because her nails would just get ruined today when we went after Mace, but all ten of them are still in perfect condition while she's the one damaged.

I tried once again, unsuccessfully, to block out the image of her lying sprawled on the hard-packed ground beside me, her blood on my hands in every sense of the word. I don't like not being in control of things, and the fact that my thoughts and my mouth seem to be working on their own today is pissing me the hell off. But listening to myself talk is still better than hearing the gun blast, the machines, and the hushed voices of the men standing vigil at her door, so I started running my mouth again.

"You're single-handedly making us human again and I don't think it's a positive change. Because this hurts, Steph. Seeing you like this is excruciating. I've lived through classified missions where only one other person on the planet knew who and where I was. I've survived more shootouts than I can count, and have had dinner at your parents' house every Friday for months, and none of those were as difficult as sitting here watching your too pale face not move."

I let go of Stephanie's hand to brush my knuckles against her cheek briefly, then I bent my head to the bed, resting it against her blanket-covered hip. Feeling the warmth of her body was reassuring. Usually Stephanie's body this close to me made me hard. Today, it made me feel extremely lucky ... for having Stephanie in my life, and for that bullet not taking her out of it.

This is exactly why I never wanted a serious relationship. I can't be indifferent when something matters to me. In the past, I could make it appear like I was to everyone involved. But with Steph, I went against every self-protective instinct I had in me and made it clear to everyone that Stephanie Plum was under my - and then Rangeman's - protection not long after Connie called me about her. I always thought it'd take multiple bullets to bring me to my knees. In reality, it turned out to be a curly-haired, blue-eyed, trouble-magnet. The woman who quickly became my everything.

I suddenly felt a hand touch my head. The shaky fingers threaded through my hair and my whole body went still. I lifted my head and was staring straight into Stephanie's eyes. Finally. That they were less bright than they were this morning, and had dark shadows underneath them, didn't make them any less breathtaking.

"I'm okay, Ranger," she said, lifting her uninjured arm to brush at the tight line of my mouth with her fingertips. "I am okay, aren't I?"

Her voice was a little raspy from lack of use, but it was the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.

"Yes, Babe. You had to have surgery, and you're going to have another scar to add to your growing collection, but with a little rest and probably a little physical therapy, you'll be back on the streets scaring the hell out of everyone."

"And maybe next time I'll actually dodge the bullet," Stephanie said to me. "It's a popular saying, but you never really think about it until you get shot ... again. If this keeps up, I'm going to have more scars than you."

This better be the last fucking time she gets seriously hurt. My heart and my head won't make it through another injury like this one.

"What do you remember?" I asked her, gently kissing her lips before sitting back down in the chair I'd dragged right next to the bed.

"I remember thinking that you were going to be pissed that Mace was pointing a gun at me. Then you came out of nowhere, materializing next to me as the gun fired."

"I should have acted sooner, Babe. I'm sorry."

"This wasn't your fault, Ranger. And I'm sorry that I was hurting you."

I stared at her, not believing that she just regained consciousness to immediately repeat what I said to her minutes before.

"Why are you saying that you hurt me?" I asked her.

"Because I was shot and I know you would be worried about me," she told me.

"Babe."

"Okay," Stephanie said to me, "so I heard what you said."

"When?"

I saw a little more color enter her face. I don't care what she heard me say, or when, as long as it made her start looking more like herself.

"Uhh ... just now?"

"Is that a question, Babe?" I asked her, taking her hand in mine again and pressing my lips to the spot next to her IV.

"Will you be mad if I say I was actually awake for a minute or two? I just wanted to listen to your voice for a couple minutes before having to face reality and my parents."

"Stephanie," I said, picking up the cup of water off the table and putting the straw against her lips, "nothing you say or do is going to make me mad ever again."

"You say that now, but I'll be back to annoying the crap out of you as soon as I'm out of here." She paused. "Do you know when that will that be?"

"Not soon enough to suit me," I told her, putting the cup back where it had been.

I won't feel confident that Stephanie's on the mend until she's ordering me, or one of the men, to Tasty Pastry for a get well cake.

"Hector is keeping a real close eye on your parents in the waiting room. They won't be bothering you until you feel like talking to them."

"Good," she said, "because I only feel like talking to you. What happened to Mace after I went lights out?"

She would pick the only subject I won't discuss with her. If Stephanie finds out that Mace is still alive - just waiting for me to change that - she'll try to convince me not to tear him apart. Since I have a hard time saying no to Stephanie, it's best to let her think he's already been disposed of.

"You won't ever have to face Mace again, Steph," I told her, using my tone to end the discussion.

"I'm sorry, Ranger," she said, meeting my eyes.

"For what, Babe?"

"First ... for getting shot."

I opened my mouth to tell her that she isn't the one at fault, but she cut me off. Guess the drugs haven't slowed down her reflexes any.

"I know you, Ranger. You feel responsible for me getting hurt. And if you can blame yourself for not protecting me," she told me, "then I can blame me for not adequately protecting myself."

"Stephanie ..."

"Uh-uh. You can't use my full name," she told me. "You just finished saying that you weren't going to be mad at me ever again. Remember?"

"I'm not mad at you, Babe. But I refuse to listen to you say that this is at all your fault. Mace is the one who pulled the trigger."

She smiled at me. "Exactly," she said.

I got up, and with both arms on either side of her body, I leaned over her, bringing my face very close to hers.

"Touché, Babe," I whispered, before kissing her again.

"And I'm sorry I didn't say I was awake as soon as I was," Steph said quietly, when I pulled back a fraction of an inch. "I know I must have scared you and the guys, and it was selfish of me to put making myself feel better over everyone else."

"You don't have to apologize for that, Steph," I told her, not moving out of her personal space. "We all agree that you're the important one. And if listening to me babble helped you at all, it was worth sounding like an idiot."

"You didn't sound at all like an idiot, Ranger," she said, lifting her good arm to bring me back to her. "You sounded like a man who loves me."

"I do, Stephanie."

"I know. And I feel the same way about you. You, and also the men we work with, are the most important people to me. It was wrong to not say something right away. If our situations were reversed, and you were conscious and didn't tell me, I'd kill you."

"Then be grateful that I have more self-control than you."

"Since when?" She asked.

She was right to question that. We both know I've had little to no self-control when it came to her.

I was just about to brush my lips against hers one more time when the door opened again. Now that Stephanie is back with me, I'm seriously considering barring her door from the inside.

"Who the fuck do you think she is? Sleepy Beauty? Steph doesn't need to be kissed awake," Lester said, coming in without being invited, something we are all used to. "Jesus Christ, Ranger, she just got out of surgery. Give the woman some recovery time before you jump her."

Steph and I spoke at the same time.

"Shut up, Santos."

"Welcome back, Ms. Plum," Dr. Walssen said. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay," she told everyone. "My arm hurts, and my head is still a little foggy, but I'm used to this particular feeling."

"How many times have you been shot now?" Bobby asked.

"Too many," I answered for her.

"As soon as we heard two voices in here, I called Tank. He's having someone take over his 'shift', then he'll be heading here," Hal informed me. "The guys in the waiting room are also starting to get restless."

"Yeah, I had to threaten them with seats next to Steph's grandmother," Santos told me, "to keep them from stampeding. You really should think about hiring smaller men."

"Why? So you finally have someone you can beat up?" Bobby said to him. "Not that you have a shot even then. Hector's smaller than most of the men here, and he always whoops your ass."

"You two should shut up," Hal said to Bobby and Santos, "or Stephanie might regret waking up."

"Don't worry, Hal," Steph told him, not looking away from me as I sat back down. "I regret getting shot, but not waking up. I have too much to live for to waste time lounging around in bed."

"I regret all the time we've wasted before this, Babe. And you should know, I don't regret a single moment of the time I've spent with you."

"You know, that sappy shit sounds a lot like wedding vows to me," Santos said. "If you're interested, I married a buddy of mine ..."

"I knew it!" Bobby said to Lester. "You play for both teams, don't you, Santos? Damn. Now I owe Hector fifty bucks."

"You're about as funny as you are good looking," Santos said to Brown.

"Dude, stop checking me out," Bobby told him. "You're definitely not my type."

"I wasn't checking anyone out except Stephanie," Santos told Bobby, winking at Stephanie and earning himself an hour of one-on-one time with me in the gym. "I was making the point that you aren't good looking or funny. And if I was gay, Brown, which I'm not - there are hoards of women who will back me up on that - I could do waaay better than you."

"You wish," Bobby said back.

"I was just offering my services," Santos told Stephanie and I. "I did one of those online things so I could legally officiate the wedding of an old army buddy of mine and his fiancée ... now wife thanks to me."

Steph eyes went from Lester back to me. "You're sure I'm awake?" She asked me. "This is eerily similar to dreams I've had after eating food from the Pump & Junk gas station."

"You are awake, Babe. I'm sorry to say ... this is really happening."

I know they're acting even more like jackasses for Steph's benefit. Everyone knows how much Stephanie hates hospitals, and they were trying to keep her mind off that. That's the only reason I'm not going to fire or beat the shit out of the annoying fuckers.

"As entertaining as this conversation is," Dr. Walssen said, "I'd like to check out my handiwork, so I'm going to need a few minutes alone with Stephanie."

"You better have done a good job," Bobby said to the doctor, suddenly morphing into the man I've seen mow down enemies in more countries than I want to remember. "Nobody screws with Stephanie without dealing with us."

"Bobby, calm down," Stephanie told him. "I'm here. I'm safe. And I'm going to be okay."

"Promise, Babe?" I asked, smoothing the hair out of her eyes.

"Promise, Batman. There's no separating us."

My eyebrow lifted. She must have been awake longer than she was copping to in order to have heard that part of what I told her.

"What?" She asked, noticing my questioning look.

"You heard that, too, didn't you, Steph?" I said. "What I said about no one being allowed to take you away from me?"

"No. I swear I didn't hear you say anything like that - though now I'm curious what I missed. As I was coming to, that's what I'd been thinking ... that no one can separate the two of us."

Maybe Stephanie isn't telling me the whole truth, or maybe we're more connected than even I thought. Either way, the doctor has exactly three minutes to check Stephanie's vitals and stitches before I'm back beside her. Stephanie will soon see that I'm not fucking around. She's going to need to hire a bodyguard just to keep this particular one away from her. We've always been close, but being separated from Stephanie Plum has just become an impossibility.