It was early morning when Des awoke, limbs stiff and vision blurry. He rubbed his eyes to clear them but the fog in his brain still hadn't lifted. It took him a moment to remember where he was. Hospital. Shot. Sonja. Jake. Des frowned at the last part once his brain finally caught up to current events. The youngest Doyle still hadn't been by his room to visit. Late last night, Malachy came back to tell him and Tinny and Rose that everyone was fine and the whole ordeal was over. He'd been acting kinda funny when he said it, though, and Rose could tell something was up, which in turn told Des and Tinny something was up, but Mal would say nothing more on the subject. It wasn't until later, when Mal took the ladies home for the night so Des could get some rest and Tinny texted him that he found out that Sonja Sterling was dead. And Jake had been the one to kill her.

Dead. Killed. By Jake. Jake who hated guns, Jake who'd never killed anyone before, killed the woman who had shot him. What did it all mean? Was he in jail now? Is that why he hadn't come by still? It took Des awhile to fully process this shocker and he was still having trouble wrapping his brain around it by the time he'd finally succumbed to sleep.

It was the first thing he thought about upon waking too, which is why the last thing he was expecting to see when he turned his head was a slumbering Jake Doyle, propped up in a plastic chair and lightly snoring at his bedside. He was leaning awkwardly on one arm, as the other was encased in a bright blue sling, and the position looked anything but comfortable. Des pushed himself upright in the bed, fighting the dizziness that hung over him, and the movement roused Jake.

"Hey," Des said in a small voice when Jake noticed he was awake.

"Hey yourself," Jake replied in a gravelly voice, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you—"

"No, it's fine. It's not really an ideal sleeping position anyhow," Jake smiled, craning his neck to work out the kinks. "I'm probably gonna feel this one later."

"Are you okay?" He pointed to Jake's arm.

"This?" Jake looked at the sling and gave a half shrug. "This is nothing. Really. Just a scratch." He pulled the sling off and tossed it aside, to prove it was nothing Des needed to worry about, and gave him a wry smile. "What about you? How're you feelin' today?"

"Oh, I'm okay..." Des trailed off. In truth, he felt miserable. Yesterday, they'd had him so doped up on painkillers he hadn't been able to feel much of anything besides euphoria and confusion but today he was feeling it. He thought about calling the nurse for assistance but he was afraid it might be Doris again, the severe older woman who had tended to him yesterday. Doris was a horrid woman, hellbent on bringing Des nothing but pain and misery. She wouldn't give him a moment's rest all day and to top it off, she confiscated the Mexican food Tinny had snuck in for him last night. She had to be stopped.

"Yeah, I'll bet," Jake called Des on his lie and reached for the button that summoned the Beast.

"No, no, don't!" Des said, but too late. "Oh, now you've done it." He leaned back against the pillow, clutching his stomach. At Jake's questioning look, he replied, "Doris. She's a monster, Jake, and now you've summoned her."

"Are you telling lies about me again?" A woman's voice sounded from the doorway, causing both men to jump.

"How did you get here so fast?!" Des asked as Doris walked around to the other side of the bed without skipping a beat.

The nurse reached up to replace his empty saline bag. "I have a sixth sense that tells me when my patients are going to give me trouble before they do it. And you, Mr. Courtney, are going to be trouble."

"See what I mean?" Des said aside to Jake, but loud enough that it didn't go unnoticed by Doris. "She's horrible."

"What's this?" Doris picked up the discarded sling and looked expectantly at Jake. "Shouldn't this be on your person, Mr. Doyle?"

"Oh, no, I—I feel much better now," Jake replied timidly. Either Des's fear was contagious or Doris had a way about her that immediately evoked fear in others. He was leaning towards the latter. The stern nurse eyed him suspiciously, but let it slide and continued her duties around the room.

"Have you been here long?" Des asked Jake, changing the subject. He wanted to ask about Sonja, to hear it from Jake himself, but he couldn't bring himself to do that just yet.

"Ah, no, just like half an hour or so... I was thinking of maybe getting some breakfast. You want me to grab you something?"

"Ooh, I'd love—"

"NO OUTSIDE FOOD," Doris answered instead. "We've been over this, Mr. Courtney. I'll let you know when it's alright." She came over to the bed and helped Des sit up straight while she fluffed his pillow and as she helped him back down she leaned low and whispered. "He's lying. Been here all night and wouldn't leave no matter how many times we told him to." She gave the young man the faintest hint of a smile then turned and left the room, telling him to use the call button if he needed anything. "And don't go exciting my patient, Mr. Doyle. If I hear you are causing trouble, I will not hesitate to throw your ass out, you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am." Jake shuddered and exchanged a knowing look with Des then settled back into the uncomfortable chair. There was a moment of silence before Jake ventured, "Listen, Des—I just want you to know that I'm really sorry for what happened. All of it. This never would have gone so far if I had just gotten help instead of trying to fix everything on my own. I got stubborn, and you got hurt, and that's not fair." His eyes took on a faraway look briefly, and Des wondered if he was thinking about Sonja and the life he might have avoided taking if this had all gone differently, but then his vision returned to the present. "So, again, I'm sorry."

"Ohhh Jake, you don't know how long I've waited to hear you say something sincere to me, but now that you are, to be honest, it's kinda freaking me out, man," Des panicked. "Tinny's being really nice to me too and, like, I don't know what to do with that..."

Jake grinned. "You're on your own there, buddy."

Des looked down at his stomach. "At least I'll get like a wicked scar out of this. Ladies dig that still, right Jake?"

"Absolutely. If you want, I'll tell girls that you pushed me out of the line of fire too."

The boy's eyes went wide. "Would you really do that?"

"I would."

"Yeah, it probably sounds better than telling them you accidentally shot me," Des joked a moment later.

Jake just stared, mouth and eyes agape, fumbling for a response. "I—uh—wait—" Des was amused; he'd never left Jake Doyle dumbstruck before. Obviously he'd struck a bit of a nerve.

"Kidding, I'm only kidding," he smiled then yawned, still a bit tired from his restless, interrupted sleep the night before.

He settled back down into the sheets and Jake, noticing Des's losing battle with consciousness, said, "Maybe I should, uh, take off and let you get some rest. I could probably use a few hours myself."

"Jake, wait—" Des put out an arm to stop Jake as he rose from the chair. Des felt stupid for even saying it but he couldn't stop the words from coming out, "Will you stay? Please, just a little while longer, till I fall asleep?"

Jake looked down at the kid, surprised but gentle. "Yeah, of course I'll stick around." He patted him on the shoulder then resumed his spot in the chair. "I'm not going anywhere."

Thanks for reading, everyone! It was a blast writing this fic, although a bit frustrating near the end. Please review and let me know what you think; I crave constructive criticism!

I haven't the foggiest idea what they've got planned for Sonja on the show but I look forward to finding out in January. I may write a small companion piece/sequel to this story if I get my shit together in December. This damnable plot bunny just won't leave me alone!