Archive of Our Own

The diner was nothing swanky – just your standard diner with corner booths in Echo Park with checkered floors and the occasional coffee in a chipped mug. But for Maddie, this diner was special, because it was theirs, and whether for a couple of minutes during a break on shift, or after either of them had a particularly tough day, they could come and talk it over pancakes.

“You still put sugar in that?” Harry asked his daughter, watching her stir her coffee, mockingly judging her for that action.

“Two and a half packets,” Maddie replied, pouring the half in dramatically for her father’s benefit, “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

Harry sipped on his black coffee and shook his head when Maddie offered him the half packet; “You know you’ll regret it when you hit forty.”

“I’m sure there’ll be more to regret than adding taste to my coffee when I was younger. How you drink that -” she pointed at her father’s mug – “I’ll never know. And also, you’ll eat pancakes soaked in syrup and indulge in doughnuts, but it's sugar in coffee you draw a line?”

Harry smiled as his daughter shot her response back with a smirk.

Maddie had just finished a shift she’d picked up on overtime, and Harry had volunteered to pick her up to make up for the last dinner meet that he had to skip out on when one of his older cases had a new lead. Maddie, to be frank, was more than happy for the lift and the brunch – all that was in her fridge at the moment was takeout that she definitely should have thrown out, and a packet of instant noodles.

The two talked about everything and nothing – Maddie on the case that had caused her to work OT, as well as a leadership change in CRU. Harry told her about a new case that his half-brother, Mickey, had asked him to pick up at short notice, and that he would be out of town for a couple of days.

They finished up their coffee and meal, and stepped out into the late-afternoon sun, Maddie sending a quick text on her phone when she first heard the screams.

She slid her phone back into her pocket, looking up to see a man standing in the middle of the parking lot, wild-eyed, gun glinting in his hand. Everyone scattered around, running away, leaving just the man, Maddie and Harry standing in the now cleared parking lot.

“Gun!” Maddie called out instinctually, reaching for her off-duty gun, her dad mirroring the motion.

She’d just opened her mouth to order him to drop it when the shooter’s arm snapped up, and the sound of another gunshot led to another bout of screaming from the bystanders hiding in between the parked cars.

A deep breath left her body, and she curled her finger, pulling the trigger.

Two shots rang out, and the gunman collapsed, the threat now neutralised.

Adrenaline still surging, she rushed forward, kicking the man’s pistol out of reach, leaning down to check his pulse. None detected.

“We’re clear! Dad, you good?” she questioned, but when she didn’t get a response, she stood up, turning around.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

“Dad!”

Harry was down, one hand clutching at his chest, Maddie instantly noticing the blood seeping in between his fingers as she dropped to her knees, placing one hand over his two, and using her other to slip her phone out of her pocket and dial for help.

“Mads -”

“Shh, Dad, stay still. Stay still. Help’s on the way. Stop moving. Dad!” her voice got louder, and Harry finally listened, leaning his head back against the scorching asphalt, trying to think of anything else but the pain exploding in his chest.

Fuck, getting shot never got easier.

And then, Maddie saw this. His daughter may have been a fully fledged cop, but in his eyes, she was always his child. He was supposed to be protecting her, not the other way around.

She already is down one parent.

Now she might have to see you die, too.

No.

No dying today.

“You’re not dying, Dad,” Maddie said, trying to keep her tears at bay, but he could see them trapped in her eyes.

Sirens grew closer, and most people cleverly fled far away from the chaos, a handful staying behind to gawk, but Maddie noticed none of that – her entire world, right there, was her father, and keeping him alive.

God fucking forbid she lost him, too.

When the medics arrived, one of them had to forcibly move her hands in order to see what was going on and start treating Harry. Maddie turned her head to snap at the individual, but quickly zoned back in when she noticed it was a medic, and shuffled out of the way, but still remained close enough to clutch at her father’s still bloodied left hand, listening in to the medics’ jargon.

“What about him, Officer?” the blonde medic asked, and Maddie robotically answered ‘dead’.

“We’ve got to move him. Can you help us?” the other medic asked, and Maddie nodded, listening to their instructions as they lifted her father onto the stretcher and into the ambulance.

“Officer Bosch!” Someone yelled her name, and she turned around, half a second away from joining her father in the ambulance.

“You need to stay here – officer-involved shooting.”

“Sir, respectfully, can this wait? Here,” she said, handing her gun over to him, “I need to go with my dad.”

The Sergeant took her gun, but also grabbed her wrist.

“Officer, I know this is tough, but I need you to stay here.”

“I, I -”

“Maddie!” Someone else called out, and Maddie spotted Vasquez’s familiar face.

“Vasquez!” she responded, glad for a familiar face. An idea popped into her head.

“Vasquez, go to the hospital with my dad, please? I… I don’t want him alone.”

“You got it,” she said, and hopped into the back of the waiting ambulance without argument.

*

Maddie had answered the questions three times over before demanding to see her father, compromising with the investigating officers that she would be back in the station before the start of her shift tomorrow. They relented, and Maddie hitched a ride with an officer to the hospital.

“Excuse me, I need information on my dad. Harry Bosch,” she asked a nurse, who quickly tapped away on her computer and informed her that he was still in surgery, that she should wait for the doctor just across the room.

She did so wordlessly, slumping onto a badly screwed-in plastic chair, her hands and clothes still slick with blood that wasn’t hers.

Except, it might as well have been.

She’d had her fair share of officer-involved shootings, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight of her father downed by a shooter she then had to take down.

She opened her eyes, taking notice of the way her hands quivered, her legs evidently attempting to follow suit.

Nobody else needs to see that, she thought as she shoved them into her pockets without a second thought, the sound of her screaming his name still ringing in her ears.

Was that the last time she saw him alive? Should she have hopped into the ambulance? Should-

“Maddie.”

A steady, familiar voice, that Maddie had grown to appreciate. She looked up through the trapped tears in her eyes to spot Vasquez standing in front of her, two coffees in her hands.

“Vasquez, how… what?”

Vasquez placed both coffees on the table as she crouched down to Maddie’s level, placing her hands on the young officer’s shoulders.

“He was stable in the ambulance. They rushed him into surgery to remove the bullet. Should be another two hours tops,” Vasquez reassured her, and Maddie leaned into her former TO, the floodgates opening.

“Let it all out, Maddie,” she spoke gently, embracing the young woman, Maddie eventually reciprocating.

They pulled apart after a minute or so, Maddie hastily apologising for leaving blood handprints on Vasquez’s shirt.

“Don’t be – I needed an excuse to get rid of it, so thank you. Now, come with me,” she said, leading Maddie to the bathroom and turning the tap on.

Maddie hesitated, studying her crimson-stained hands, the way the blood had seeped into her cuticles.

“It’s okay,” Vasquez reassured her, guiding Maddie’s hands under the lukewarm water, keeping Maddie on task when the Officer paused in her quest to scrub her hands clean.

Some minutes later, the water leaving Maddie’s hands stopped running pink, and Vasquez shut off the tap, handing young Bosch a handful of paper towels.

“Come, let’s sit. I’m not leaving you until we hear about him, alright?” Vasquez reassured Maddie, leading her back into the waiting room and handing her a coffee.

She let out a shaky breath, her hand almost steady as she swallowed down the first taste of the sugarless coffee.

“Maddie?” A voice called out, and she saw a less familiar face.

The woman approached, extending her hand out.

“Renée Ballard, LAPD. We haven’t officially met, but I know your father.”

“He spoke of you, Detective. He didn’t make it seem like you’d be a buddy to show up in the hospital to check up on him.”

“Let’s just say I owe a debt of gratitude to Harry Bosch for helping me out of a sticky situation. I’m here to repay the debt.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I know who shot your father and why, Maddie. Can we talk?”