A/N: I just read that Alcatraz was cancelled. :( So sad, and for them to leave it like they did? No fair at all, I say. On the plus side, now we fanfiction writers can take the series in any direction we want, and no one can say it's au! Ahahaha! Ahem. On that note, as much as I'm enjoying the other versions out there, I had to start writing my own personal version of what happens after the finale. And unlike talking, writing is something I can do! (I lost my voice almost completely—strangest cold ever) Anyway, chapter 2 is half done, so look for that in a few days.

Title: The Aftermath

Rating: K+

Summary: My version of what happens after Rebecca gets stabbed (hint: she survives!). Main focus on Doc and Rebecca, but Ray, Hauser, Lucy, and Nikki will all be involved.

Disclaimer: I disclaim! I don't own Alcatraz, the island or the sadly short-lived TV show. Other things I don't own are the characters, the episode plots, and the idiodic idea that colloidal silver gives you magical healing powers. I guess TV writers probably don't have to take chemistry. *sigh*

1. Devastation

Diego Soto was out of the car almost before he registered screeching to a halt.

"Rebecca! Rebecca!" he shouted, running toward the small figure lying in the street.

He crashed to his knees beside his partner and stared at the blood trickling through her hands, which she had clasped tightly to the wound on the right side of her abdomen.

"Oh my god," Diego muttered. There was so much blood. He didn't think he'd ever felt so terrified in his life, and that was saying something.

"Doc," Rebecca gasped. There were tears running down her pale cheeks. "Help—apply pressure."

As he moved forward to comply, Diego swore to himself that if they got through this, he would take a first aid course the next chance he got. He hastily wadded up his jacket and pressed it against the wound. He scanned frantically up and down the deserted commercial street, knowing even as untrained as he was that Rebecca didn't have much time.

"Hey, you!" he screamed when he saw someone step out of a building fifty yards away. "Call 911!"

The man did a double take, looking between Doc and the burnt-out car.

"Come on, hurry!" Doc cried when the guy didn't move. "She's gonna bleed to death!"

That seemed to snap the man out of his shock. He nodded to show he understood and ran back inside.

Doc looked down to see crystal blue eyes looking up at him. "You're going to be okay, Rebecca," he said firmly, totally ignoring what he'd just screamed across the street. "Just hang on, you're gonna be fine."

"He stabbed me, Doc." Rebecca huffed out a pained laugh. "Stabbed by my own grandfather." She was ghostly pale, and seemed less alert than she had even thirty seconds ago. Her hands felt ice-cold beneath his, but there was blood already oozing out through his jacket, squishing between his fingers. Hot, living blood, and Diego knew he would have nightmares about this day for the rest of his life.

He pressed harder against Rebecca's side, eliciting a whimper from the young woman. Her eyes drifted shut and she suddenly went limp against him, ratcheting Diego's fear up to a new high. "Come on, Rebecca, stay with me," he begged, but it was no use. She had fainted. She felt so cold; he really wanted to take his sweater off and wrap her in it, but he was afraid of moving his hands. He sat on the pavement and held her close instead.

It seemed like hours but it was probably only minutes that he sat there, awkwardly holding his friend as her blood flowed into the street, but finally he heard a siren approaching. He stayed where he was until the ambulance screeched to a halt and two paramedics ran over to him. He finally yielded his precious burden to a dark-haired paramedic with intense grey eyes.

"Can you tell us what happened here, sir?"

Doc didn't know what he answered. Time seemed to move in brief flashes. The paramedics checked Rebecca's breathing and listened to her heart, and they asked Diego questions, about her health and drug allergies. He told them what his partner had once asked him to say in the event she couldn't speak for herself. Finally they strapped Rebecca to a stretcher and loaded her in the ambulance. The paramedics were reluctant to let Diego climb in as well, but he somehow convinced them. Doc wanted to think it was his persuasive abilities, but it was more likely his sheer desperation.

He caught small snatches of speech and realized the driver was radioing the hospital. "…female, mid to late twenties… trauma to the abdomen, lower right quadrant… massive blood loss…"

Doc crouched in the back of the ambulance and looked at the other paramedic, the one monitoring Rebecca's vital signs. He was frowning.

Suddenly it seemed to get quieter, and Diego realized the soft rhythmic beeping he'd been hearing had ceased. He wanted to ask what was wrong but was afraid of distracting the paramedic. When the man started performing CPR, Doc knew the answer anyway: Rebecca's heart had stopped. He felt like his heart stopped with hers.

And then it started again; the faint periodic beep was the sweetest sound Doc had ever heard.

He barely registered when the ambulance came to a halt; he was still staring at Rebecca's pale face, willing her to come through this, when the rear doors opened and the driver motioned him out. He scrambled out of the way as fast as his bulk would allow and watched as they wheeled his partner through the automatic doors of the emergency department. Doc knew he wouldn't be allowed to follow even if he could keep up; instead he went into the waiting area and sank into a seat.

Then the shaking started. Doc took deep, gulping breaths, trying to calm down. He looked at his trembling hands and clenched them into fists. They were thickly crusted with Rebecca's drying blood. He should probably wash them, but he wasn't sure he could stand.

"Sir? Sir?"

He looked up to see a concerned-looking older woman dressed in hospital scrubs.

"Are you all right, sir?" she repeated.

"Yes," Doc said, shaking his head.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm not hurt."

She frowned at him before it clicked. "Oh, you just got here, didn't you? Are you with the blonde girl who was just brought in?"

"Yeah." His voice cracked.

"Are you a relative, sir?"

Doc shook his head. "No, uh… partner. Friend."

She nodded. "Why don't you come with me, sir, and give me some information."

"Okay." He got unsteadily to his feet and followed the woman, who first led him to the men's room.

"I'll let you wash up first, and then you can meet me at the registration desk."

"Okay," he said again.

It took a long time to wash his hands, and the water was very red as it went down the drain. So much blood… she was so tiny, how could she survive that much blood loss? He wondered if she was already dead, and felt sick. He had to sit down on the toilet lid and take some steadying breaths. "Focus, Soto, focus," he muttered to himself, and went out to the registration desk.

He told them what he could, including Ray Archer's phone number. He thought about calling Rebecca's uncle himself, but in the end he couldn't bring himself to be the bearer of such devastating news. He did call Hauser, though, even though the hard-hearted bastard had held a gun on Diego less than an hour ago.

Hauser and Lucy arrived in minutes, leading Doc to think they must have been nearby. Lucy took one look at him and came forward to touch his arm.

"Diego, I'm so sorry," she said. "How is she?"

"She's in surgery." He told them the only thing he knew. "She lost a lot of blood." Much to his surprise, Hauser didn't ask for the key again; he merely sat down with a sigh. Lucy sat next to him after a moment. And they waited.

Ray Archer arrived fifteen minutes later. Diego saw his own terror reflected in the older man's eyes.

"Who did this?" Ray demanded.

"Your brother, Ray," Hauser replied.

Ray jabbed a finger in Hauser's direction. "I knew this would happen! I told you to let her go!" he said angrily.

"This isn't about you and me," Hauser said.

"Just get out. Now!" Ray shouted.

There was nothing but tense silence for a moment, and then Hauser strode across the waiting area with Lucy trailing after him.

Ray's eyes narrowed suddenly. "I remember you," he said to Lucy accusingly. "You were there, you're one of them."

Lucy looked like she wanted to say something, but in the end she just turned back to follow Hauser.

Doc, leaning against the wall next to the exit, held up the key that had been the cause of all this. Hauser paused, surprised, and then took the key. "You can come if you want," he offered.

Diego shook his head angrily. "Whatever's behind that door isn't as important as…" He couldn't go on. "I'm staying."

Ray didn't object, much to Doc's relief. The two men waited together in the deserted waiting room. Ray didn't seem inclined to engage Diego in conversation, which was just as well because Diego was fully engrossed in the conversation going on inside his own head.

How can this be happening?

Why wasn't I with her?

Why didn't I get there sooner?

It's not fair! She's too young to end this way…

What will I do if she dies?

Diego rubbed his hand slowly over his mouth, watching the door that lead to the operating room. He wanted this wait to end, and he didn't. If a doctor came out of there to talk to them, it meant Rebecca had either died, or had survived. In this strange limbo of waiting, he at least had the comfort of knowing she wasn't dead, at least not yet. If she died they would come out and tell Ray.

"She's strong," Ray said after two hours. "She'll pull through."

"Yeah," Doc replied.

They waited.

"I'm so sorry about this, Mr. Archer," Diego said after three hours. "I should have been there for her."

Ray shook his head. "If you could have been there, you would've. From what Becca's told me, I know that much. And call me Ray."

Doc nodded, thankful.

After five hours, Ray cleared his throat, staring off into space. "Part of me never wanted her to become a cop. But… she was just so damn good at it. I shouldn't have encouraged it. But so help me, I did."

"Rebecca's pretty stubborn," Diego pointed out. "I doubt you could have stopped her."

Ray chuckled ruefully. "Yeah," he said. "Always was a stubborn little thing."

"Tell me about her?" Doc asked suddenly. "As a kid, I mean. What was she like?"

"Serious, determined, intense. Pretty much like she is now," Ray said. "She wasn't one of those kids who went out drinking and partying, I never had to worry about that with her. Mostly I worried that she was too serious, didn't have enough fun. She never had many friends, but she cares a lot for the ones she does have. You're one of 'em, I can tell."

Doc looked up at that and met Ray's dark eyes. He swallowed a lump in his throat and looked away, wondering if he'd ever see Rebecca's smile again.

They waited some more.

Diego closed his eyes. He'd never felt so exhausted, or so numb.

Then he heard a door open and close, and a man in surgical scrubs came out. Even he looked exhausted, but also strangely perplexed.

Ray and Diego got to their feet. Through the buzzing in his ears, Diego heard the surgeon say "she survived the surgery" and couldn't hold back a gasp of relief.

"We had to do a pretty sizable transfusion, but she's stable for now," the surgeon continued.

"Will she be okay?" Diego asked, wanting to hear something more definite.

"Barring complications, yes, I believe so," the surgeon said. "Rebecca's attacker nicked part of her hepatic artery, that's why there was so much bleeding. The knife did some damage to her liver and diaphragm, which we've repaired surgically. Sepsis is a concern now, as we would expect a knife wound in that area to pierce the large intestine. We didn't find any nicks, however, so Miss Madsen is lucky in that regard." The surgeon paused, still with that slightly perplexed look.

Ray closed his eyes and took a deep breath, in and out. When he opened them he scrutinized the surgeon carefully. "What is it you're not tellin' us, doctor?"

The man sighed and shook his head. "Just… something a bit strange. I'm sorry to tell you that Rebecca's heart stopped while we were trying to stabilize her, and we were unable to revive her. But then, when we were calling the time of death, her heart started again, unassisted. I've never seen anything like it."

Ray had gone a sickly grayish color and Diego hesitantly took his elbow and guided him to a seat.

"What does this mean?" Ray asked slowly, looking up at the surgeon.

The surgeon shook his head again. "I wish I could tell you. It may be some kind of cardiac abnormality, I don't know. We'll run some tests after she's stabilized. What I can tell you is that your niece is a very lucky young woman, Mr. Archer, to have survived a trauma of this magnitude."

Later they were allowed to visit Rebecca briefly in the intensive care unit. It took Diego a few moments to pick her out; she was as white as the hospital bed sheets, and surrounded by an alarming number of machines.

"I almost lost you, kid," Ray said gruffly as he reached out to hold her hand. "I don't think I could take that, so you better make a full recovery."

Diego had to look away at the naked emotion on the old man's face as he bent to kiss Rebecca's forehead tenderly.

Instead Doc Soto allowed himself to revel in this wonderful news.

Rebecca was alive.


Keep an eye out for chapter 2. And please, please review! Reviews will bring my voice back... maybe...