Diego "Doc" Soto looked up from his partner and good friend, Rebecca Madsen's, bed to see her uncle Ray Archer enter the room. Doc got up so the older man could have his seat, but Ray waved him off, standing next to the other side of the bed. He looked down at his niece, almost not being able to stand the sight of his little girl hooked up to tubes, her eyes closed like she was sleeping but he knew it was a coma.
"I can't believe we almost lost her," Ray whispered, stroking her face. Doc nodded and looked down. All of a sudden, Ray's sadness was replaced by anger — red-hot fury. His damn brother had done this — to his own granddaughter. What kind of villain did that? Especially one who claimed to put his family above everything else, one who had put his family above everything else...at least until he shot his wife.
Ray remembered it. He remembered Tommy coming over to his house, frantic, blood on his clothes and face. He had wept out his story, said that he had left Van at the house, with his mother's corpse. His brother had begged him to call the police — "I can't do it myself, Ray please, just do it, I deserve it" — and Ray had. It had been a rather short case; Tommy pleaded guilty after all. The sentence, though, Ray thought, had been too harsh — life in Alcatraz. And that was when Ray Madsen decided to change his name to Archer, so he could be there for his brother, even if his brother didn't want him there.
Now, though, all Ray Archer could feel for his brother and former best friend was hatred. He had been Van's father, not Tommy; he was Rebecca's grandfather, not Tommy. He had told Tommy if he ever saw him again, he would kill him. Now he was considering seeking the bastard out instead. It couldn't be too hard; Ray knew his brother better than anyone. Or, at least, he had. Because the brother Ray knew would never kill his wife or stab his granddaughter or shoot another inmate or kidnap a woman or drive another man to his death. Maybe it would be hard, because Ray didn't know who Tommy was anymore.
"Yeah," Doc said. "I'm sure glad we didn't." Just then his cell phone rang. Doc contemplated ignoring it, but Ray nodded to him, so Doc went outside to answer because it would feel too disrespectful to take a call in Rebecca's room. "Dr. Diego Soto here," he said when he picked it up.
"Soto, how is she?" Hauser's gruff voice asked. Doc blinked for a moment; he was slightly surprised at Hauser's concern.
"No different. Stable, but still comatose," he answered. There was a pause on the other end, and Doc could imagine Hauser nodding to himself, storing away the information.
"If there's no change, come back to the base. We have some new info you need to know." Of course, Doc thought. There has to be a reason for this call. He couldn't just see how she's doing. Doc wanted to be mad — he was slightly — but he knew Hauser wouldn't change. It didn't matter anyway, because Rebecca was just lying there and sometimes he couldn't stand it but he knew if he didn't come visit her everyday it would kill him.
"Alri-" he started to say to Hauser, but then he heard a shout from Rebecca's room and he looked to see Ray calling for a nurse, a doctor, somebody. A couple nurses and a doctor rushed by and Doc stared, not believing as Ray was moved out of the room so they could work.
"Soto! What's going on? What's happening?" Hasuer demanded.
"I-it's Rebecca," Doc stammered. "She...she's awake! She's waking up! Hauser, Rebecca's alright!"
"Stay there," Hauser ordered, like Doc was actually going to leave. "We'll be there soon."
Hospital, Rebecca's room...
"...becca. Wake up...hear me? Rebecca...I'm doctor..." Doctor. Doc? Was it Doc? No, it was a different voice. Well, she wanted Doc, not this strange doctor. Or Ray. Where was her uncle? What had happened? Her head hurt. Her side hurt. Wait. Her side. She had been stabbed. Stabbed? By whom? A number...2002. She'd been stabbed by a year? No...maybe it meant she'd been stabbed 10 years ago. That still didn't make sense. 2002...Madsen. That was her name. So why did she see a blond, blue-eyed man when she thought the name? Who was he? Tommy. That was his name. Tommy Madsen. 2002. Rebecca Madsen. What? Tommy Madsen = 2002. 2002 stabbed her, Rebecca Madsen. Tommy Madsen stabbed Rebecca Madsen. They shared a name. Why? Oh, right, he was her grandfather. What?
Slowly, painfully, it came back to her. She had been chasing her grandfather and hit his car. It had flipped and burst into flames. She had pulled him out and was in the process of arresting him when he stabbed her. But now she knew that Peters had been spying on her. But why should she believe anything Tommy said? He was a crimminal — he had stabbed her, for Pete's sake. Left her for dead. But when Tommy killed Peters, it had looked...personal. Like it was a mission.
She was so confused.
She opened her eyes and saw faces above her — doctor masks and people in scrubs. Doctors. Nurses. She was in the hospital, because she'd been stabbed. Right. One of the doctors spoke,
"Can you hear me?" Rebecca nodded. "Can you speak? What's your name?"
"I'm...I'm Detective Rebecca Madsen, San Francisco police," she answered. Her throat felt dry, and her voice was hoarse, but the doctors looked relieved.
"Can I-can I see my uncle? And Doc?" she asked. Surely they would be there, right? They wouldn't have left her alone, right?
"Not yet," the same doctor said. She frowned, but made no protest as they moved about, checking her vital signs and watching their monitors and doing other things that needed to be done. She just hoped she would be able to see her friends soon.
Hospital, Waiting Room...
"What's happening?" Doc and Ray looked up to see Lucy and Hauser hurrying towards them. Doc answered Lucy,
"She woke up but they won't let us see her yet. They need to check things out." They nodded and sat down. Doc, figuring they would be waiting for a while, whispered to Hauser,
"What was the new information?" Hauser looked around carefully to make sure no one could overhear, then leaned in and whispered,
"One of the 63s from San Francisco" (for Doc had been told about what was behind the door and the mad scientist) "is on the move — he's going to Colorado."
"Colorado?" Doc repeated, stupefied. He couldn't remember coming across any connection between the inmates and Colorado. Well, maybe a few had been from there, but...
"What's the name? Any crimes that fit a certain inmate's MO?" he asked. Maybe having the name could help him find the link.
Lucy answered: "Tommy Madsen." Doc stared at her. What? What was that son of a bitch doing?
"Excuse me." The four of them looked up to see a pretty blond nurse in her late twenties. She gestured to Rebecca's room. "You can see her now."
That's all they needed to hear.