Joe

Well it started out as an ordinary patrol day. Who knew it would turn into such a shitty one.

The mixture of dirt and blood on my hands and chest was enough to make even me cringe. So, that explained all the strange looks I was receiving from everyone around me. I hadn't tried to scrub it off. I had a feeling of not wanting to mixed with the thought that it might not really come off if I tried. And it's not like I had even had a chance to change out of my uniform.

Wendy had gotten the call, but the dispatchers made sure I was clear on the call too - accident with injuries. Wendy. My wife hates her, but she is like a younger, slutty sister to me. If there is such a thing. Like one of the guys, only with boobs.

Dispatch was also nice enough to let me know that the license plate numerics came up with my name in the database. I hauled ass to the scene to find my wife's Honda Civic completely crushed by an old Chevy Blazer, which was clearly in the wrong lane. They already had the driver in handcuffs and were pushing him into a DUI unit's squad car.

I ran to check on my wife, who was already being loaded onto a stretcher. She was unconscious, but breathing. Alex. My son. Where was he? I stared at the crushed rear passenger door. Not even thinking, I started walking toward the car. From out of nowhere, Wendy tackled me to the ground. I burst into tears in understanding, but from my fear and sadness came something else.

Anger. Tears burning my eyes, I slowly rose and shrugged off Wendy's hold on me. Before anyone could stop me, I sprinted toward the man who had just torn my life apart. Simultaneously shoving the DUI officer away and pouncing on the man I know as Satan himself, I managed to push the drunk to the ground before me, landed on him, and began wailing on him as if he were reaching for my gun. I got a few good hits in before being wrestled away. I heard the officer ask the asshole, "Well Maxton, got what you deserved there, didn't ya?" Good ol' Maxton deserved much worse.

Wendy drove me to the hospital. Most of the time between the scene and the waiting room was a complete blur. I didn't see clearly again until they were rolling Maggie out on a stretcher for surgery. She would be fine. And that's what I told her.

And she will be fine. Until I have to tell her that our son is dead.

Note to Self: Wrote this one after y'all showed such interest in Maggie!