So...I've decided to make this the final chapter of Perceptions, not because I have nothing more to write (far from it!) but because I thought this chapter brought this part of Ben and Evelyn's story to a natural conclusion and paved the way for Part Two (which I will upload hopefully in the next few days).

Thank you for all the reviews, I'm so grateful, and I hope you'll review the next story as well as you have this one!

It was like something out of a dream.

Or a nightmare.

By the time he reached her, her eyes were already rolling back in her head and her coat was saturated with blood. When he pulled it open, hoping to find a wound he could try to stem, he was simply met with more and more blood, more than he'd ever thought could flow from a person in such a short space of time. He called her name, shook her, tried to lift her...but her limp body was too heavy and the pain in his head made him feel woozy.

He didn't know who had called it in, but moments later he heard sirens, faint at first and then growing louder, until suddenly two EMTs were gently prising him away from her and a uniformed cop was leading him over to sit on the stoop.

"No, I want to stay with her," he heard himself say weakly. "Please, let me stay with her."

The officer was asking him questions: could he remember what happened...could he describe the shooter...?

"A man...he had a coat and a hat..." That was all. All he could think of. Why was that all?

The officer couldn't have been more than twenty five and suddenly, Evelyn's words about Peter perhaps joining the force came back to him, as did his response.

"Too much can happen as we both know..."

One of the EMTs appeared beside the officer. "We need to get her to hospital now."

"I'm going with her," he said, getting to his feet and staggering slightly as he walked to the ambulance, the officer holding onto his arm and helping him climb aboard. She was on the gurney, pale...lifeless, the blood dripping over the metal edges and pooling on the floor underneath. He didn't know what to do. So he sat watching her, his eyes never leaving her face, as they sped through the streets, weaving through traffic until they arrived at the hospital and he was helped down by one of the nurses who had rushed to greet them.

"Sir, if you'd come with me..." she said, gently taking his arm and trying to lead him.

"No, I want to go with her," he protested, trying to follow the gurney as it sped away. "Please..."

"Sir, you need to be examined," she insisted. "You've taken a nasty blow to the head."

"I'm fine. I'm fine, please..." For all he knew he could have wrenched his arm out of her grip and taken off down the hall, he found himself complying and allowing her to lead him into a room and over to a bed. A light was shone in his eyes...someone was asking him questions...his name, his age, if he could remember what happened...but it felt as though he was falling down a black hole. The voices grew quieter, the light started to fade and before he could stop himself, he leaned over the side of the bed and vomited on the floor.

XXXX

"Ben?"

He started suddenly at both the sound of his own name and the weight of a hand gently resting on his shoulder and he looked up into the concerned face of Lennie Briscoe. Immediately, he felt his chest thud. Homicide cops...

"She's dead."

Lennie frowned, "What?"

"Evelyn...she's dead. That's...that's what you came to tell me."

"No," he replied quickly. "No, I just spoke to the doctor and they're still working on her. Here, come on, it can't be too comfortable down there." Lennie held out his hand and Ben suddenly realised that he had been sitting on the floor next to the bed, thankfully now cleared of his earlier expectorate. Accepting the offer, he slowly got to his feet and sank onto the bed, his head starting to pound again with the movement. "Are you all right?"

"It's...it's just a bump," he replied, his fingers going to the egg shaped lump on his forehead and then to the tender spot on the back of his neck, wincing as a jolt of pain shot through him.

"What have they said?" Mike asked, appearing from behind his partner.

"They...uh...they looked in my eyes and said it was probably nothing to worry about but they want me to go for a CT just to rule out any internal bleeding..." he trailed off, his mind's eye instantly revisiting the sight of her bloodied body. "Did they tell you anything...how she is...?"

"No," Lennie said quietly. "Just that they were still working on her."

"Working on her..." Ben closed his eyes. He'd seen enough bad medical dramas on TV to know what that meant.

"Look, do you think you're up to answering a few questions?" Mike asked, taking out his notebook. "We know you spoke to the officer on the scene, but maybe you might remember something more now?"

He opened his eyes again. In all honestly, he couldn't remember talking to the officer at the time. But he remembered everything else. How could he ever forget?

"We were walking to her building from the car. We were talking and then...this man stepped out into our path."

"Did he come from the building or the road?"

"The road."

"And had you seen him before he stepped in front of you? Maybe, when you initially got out of the car?" Ben shook his head. "Can you describe him?"

"Male, white...he had on a...a long coat and a hat..."

"What kind of hat?" Lennie asked. "A woollen hat? Bowler hat?"

"No, like...like a deerstalker, I think," Ben replied. "I don't know, I didn't pay much attention...and then he pulled out the gun. I thought he was going to mug us..."

"A mugger in a long coat and a deerstalker?" Mike asked.

"That's what I thought, ok?" Ben snapped. "I thought he was going to mug us, so I was reaching for my wallet when someone hit me from behind and I...I fell forwards onto the ground. That's when I hit my head."

"Had you seen a second guy before that?"

"No."

"After you were knocked down," Lennie said. "Did you hear if he said anything?"

"Oh my God! Please...please, I'll give you what you want...my purse...please..."

He shook his head. "No, all I could hear was...was Evelyn...screaming..."

"Oh God no...please...! Please don't...please, my baby, please not my baby...!"

"Then a shot." He put his head in his hands, desperate to block it out but knowing that he never would be able to.

"Ok..." Lennie said, touching his shoulder again. "That's fine for now. We've got officers out canvassing the building and the street to see if anyone else saw or heard anything. Is there anyone we can call for you?"

"No," Ben lifted his head again. "But...Evelyn's mother...she'll need to be told."

"It's already being taken care of. Two uniforms are going to bring her down here." Lennie paused. "Are you sure there's no-one we can call?"

He didn't say anything. Was there anyone to call? Laura...the kids...Adam...Jack...all of them needed to know and yet paled into insignificance when the one person he wanted to see, wanted to speak to...what if he never got to speak to her again?

"No," he said finally. "There's no-one."

XXXX

It was an hour or so later when Susan arrived, clearly distressed and desperate for news of her daughter. Ben had had his CT, been given the all clear and politely been requested to move to the waiting area due to the fact that the staff obviously needed the bed. Clutching the prescription for heavy duty painkillers that he had been given, he was sitting in a small enclave of chairs, away from the immediate hustle and bustle, when she came in.

"Ben!" she gasped, upon seeing him. "My God, what happened? Is she alright? Have you seen her?" He tried as best he could to answer her questions. She was shot...I don't know...no...and he hoped that she would sit down and join him in silent contemplation, but instead she circled the area, wringing her hands and declaring over and over again that she couldn't believe what was happening. "After everything she's been through," she said. "How is this possible, how?"

He didn't say anything. What could he say? It was possible. It had happened.

"The baby..." she said suddenly, turning to him. "Have they said anything about the baby?"

He shook his head mutely. The baby. He didn't want to think about the baby. It was too dangerous a territory right now.

"Who did this?!" Susan declared angrily. "Who would want to hurt her like this?"

"It was a mugger," he heard himself say. "There was nothing we could do."

"A mugger?" she looked at him. "Why would...? I always told her that if anyone ever threatened her for her purse she should just hand it over. I don't understand...I just don't understand..."

"Neither do I," he said. "Neither do I."

XXXX

He had lost track of the time.

Walking to the door of the ER and back again had only shown him that it was still dark outside. There didn't appear to be any clocks anywhere and his watch had stopped. He knew it must be Sunday, the early hours perhaps. Only a few short hours ago they had been in Hartford. Everything had been fine. Now...

When he got back to the waiting area, Susan was sitting cradling a plastic cup of bad coffee and rocking gently back and forwards. As he watched her, he suddenly realised that Evelyn was her daughter. Not that he obviously hadn't known it before, but suddenly he looked at her as a parent. A parent desperately waiting for news of their child and he was reminded of the terrible drive he had made to Hartford after Pamela's accident when he hadn't known how she was or even if she was alive. If he were in Susan's shoes now...if it had been one of the children that had been shot...how would he have borne it?

"Mr Stone? Mrs Nicholls?" He started as a doctor suddenly approached them and Susan leapt to her feet. "I'm Dr Jackson. I'm one of the residents treating Evelyn."

"How is she?" Ben asked, in no frame of mind for introductions.

"Would you like to come with me?" he gestured to a door a few feet behind them and then opened it to reveal a small, private waiting room with a coffee table and large armchairs. "Please sit down." Susan sat, but Ben remained standing. "I'm pleased to say that we've managed to stabilise Evelyn's blood pressure by giving her fluids and several blood transfusions."

"Several?" Susan echoed.

"She lost a significant amount of blood, almost half her total volume," he said and Ben shuddered slightly at the memory. "That's why it's taken so long for us to be able to get her pressure up to within as normal a range as we can expect right now. We've also successfully removed the bullet so the plan is to get her up to intensive care within the next hour and monitor her closely for the next few days."

"Is she conscious?" Susan asked.

"No, not yet and it's likely she won't be for some time. She's still considered critical." Dr Jackson paused. "I don't want you to be under any false illusions about her condition."

"You mean...she could still die?"

He nodded. "I...understand that Evelyn's married, is that correct?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Ben asked.

"Well...I think it would be prudent if her husband were here. There are certain things that need to be discussed..."

"He doesn't need to be here."

"I appreciate that you might feel that way, however given the circumstances I really do think it would be better if he were here..."

"He's currently on bail bond not to approach her and he's due to stand trial tomorrow for beating and raping her so, believe me sir, it really wouldn't be better if he were here," Ben said sharply, trying to keep his temper. "I'm..." he took a breath. "I'm the father of the baby."

Dr Jackson nodded slowly. "I understand." He paused. "In some respects, Evelyn was lucky. There was only one shot and the bullet passed cleanly through her abdomen and embedded itself in her uterine wall. It was intact when we removed it so there are no fragments to be concerned about, but I'm afraid that because of the trajectory of the bullet, and the significant blood loss sustained, we were unable to save the baby."

He had known it was coming, almost right from the second that she had cried out for the gunman not to hurt her baby. He had tried to tell himself that it might be ok...that it was a good hospital, with skilled doctors and that maybe there was a chance...but deep down he had known.

"I'm very sorry."

"Will she be able to...I mean, could she get pregnant again?" Susan asked, her voice thick with emotion.

"Right now our main focus is on getting her through the next few days, " Dr Jackson said. "Whilst I'm not a gynaecological specialist, there was no damage to her uterus other than from the entry and, from what I could see, her ovaries and tubes were all still intact. There's no immediate reason to think that subsequent pregnancies wouldn't be possible." He rummaged in his pocket as a sudden bleeping noise started. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to go to another patient but as soon as Evelyn's upstairs I'll get a nurse to take you to her. And, if you have any other questions, I'll be around later on." With a final smile and nod, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Susan turned to look at him, her face streaked with tears. "Ben...I'm so sorry."

He wanted to cry, knew that he should cry. His child was gone...their child was gone. And yet he felt devoid of tears, devoid of everything. He felt her hand on his arm, knew that she was expecting more from him, and yet all her could do was nod.

XXXX

The sky had started to lighten when he ventured to the vending machine with the change he had found in his pocket. He didn't feel like eating, but there was no way of knowing how much longer it was going to be before he could see Evelyn and his head was starting to hurt again. As he slipped the money into the slot, he heard his name being called and turned to see Jack and Claire hurrying towards him, both looking stunned.

"What the hell happened?" Jack asked as they reached him. "Is she ok?"

"They're moving her to intensive care," he replied flatly. "They've removed the bullet and transfused her and they want to monitor her now..." No matter how many times he said it in his head, it still caused him physical pain to say the words out loud, regardless of whether or not he could shed tears. "She...uh...she lost the baby."

"Oh God..." Claire clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh Ben..."

"I'm...sorry," Jack said, putting his hand on his shoulder. "Claire only told me about the baby on Friday." He paused. "The police said it was a mugging?" Ben nodded slowly. "Are you all right?"

It almost seemed like a farcical question. He had a bump on the head, Evelyn had been shot in the gut. Where was the comparison? "I'm fine," he replied.

"I'm going to wake up Judge Callaghan's clerk and tell him we need a continuance tomorrow. There's no way she can testify now."

"Well that'll please Diamond," Claire said, "not to mention Edward."

Ben froze suddenly at her words. It would please Edward. It certainly would please Edward. It would delay him from the inevitable conviction and prison sentence and if she were ultimately to die...Mike's words, the ones that had so irritated him at the time, suddenly came back to him like a train rushing through a tunnel.

"A mugger in a long coat and a deerstalker?"

"He wasn't a mugger."

"Who wasn't?" Jack asked.

"The man that shot her...he wasn't a mugger. Of course. It was Burns...that...that son-of-a-bitch!"

"Woah, woah, calm down..." Jack said, reaching out to take his arm. "I don't understand what you're saying..."

"Who benefits out of all of this?" Ben asked wildly. "He does! Evelyn gets shot right before the trial starts and she can't testify! If she dies, she never testifies! Nothing about what he did to her ever comes out and he gets to keep all of his money! That...that bastard!"

"You think he ordered a hit?" Claire asked. "He's a Brooklyn lawyer, not a mobster."

"He might just be a lawyer," Jack mused, "but who's he in business with? Mobsters. The Lucchese family."

"Jack..." Ben grabbed his jacket. "You have to have him arrested. You have to have him arrested and arraigned and locked up in Rikers. He did this to her and he has to pay for it...he has to..."

"Ok," Jack said, "take it easy..."

"You do it now. Do it now!" He was losing control and he knew it, but he didn't care. Edward. Edward had done this. Edward had tried to kill her, perhaps had killed her...had killed the baby...their baby...he didn't know what he was saying anymore, all he knew was that he was shouting something at Jack who was trying to calm him and then...then he was in Claire's arms and she was holding him, holding him tightly the way he wanted Evelyn to...and he was crying.

XXXX

It was morning, properly morning.

It was quiet in intensive care, almost as though there was an unwritten rule to walk and talk softly lest anyone be wakened from their unnatural sleep. The only real noise was the whirr of machines and the occasional bleeping. It had taken longer than anticipated for them to be allowed to see Evelyn. Dr Jackson had come back to tell them that they had just moved her when her pressure had crashed again and they needed to re-stabilise her.

He felt like a shell, a husk, not a whole person. He didn't know how long he had stood, weeping on Claire's shoulder but afterwards they had accompanied him back to the room where Susan was still waiting and talked in hushed tones in the corner while he had sat, drained, wishing with all his heart that he had done something long before it had gotten to this.

The nurse led them into a room containing four beds, all with the curtains drawn, and walked over to a bed at the far end. She gently pulled the curtain back and he got his first glimpse of Evelyn. There wasn't a scratch on her. Nothing to indicate the trauma that she had been through except, of course, for the tube down her throat, the wires, the machines...he watched as Susan rushed forward to the bedside, a cry escaping her throat at the sight of her daughter. She collapsed in the chair beside the bed, took Evelyn's hand in hers and held it up to her face.

"Oh my baby..." she sobbed. "My poor baby..."

He felt rooted to the spot and it was only when the nurse touched his arm gently and gestured that he moved round to the opposite side of the bed and sat down. They wouldn't be allowed to stay long, ten minutes at most the doctor had said. Reaching for her hand, he felt surprised at how warm she felt. For some reason, he had thought she would be cold, but touching her now felt like touching her as he always had and he half expected her to open her eyes, sit up and ask what all the fuss was about.

Six months. Six months since the afternoon she had accosted him on the street outside the courthouse. Six months since he had chewed her out for being late that first morning. Six months since his perception of her had been completely turned on its head. Six months since she had come into his life and now...now she could be leaving it again.

Susan looked up and met his gaze. "They're going to catch whoever did this. They're going to catch them and put them away, aren't they?"

Ben nodded. "Yes, I will."

He was going to see Edward Burns in prison.

He was going to see Edward Burns in Hell.

TO BE CONTINUED...