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Andre was headed to a crime scene with Semir in his own car on his tail when a black Audi suddenly came flying up on their left, cutting dangerously in front of Andre and nearly clipping his front end.
Andre swerved violently, nearly spinning out how it caught him off guard. “Fucking idiot...” he muttered.
Semir’s voice crackled over the radio instantly. “That was a close one, are you good?”
Andre picked up the radio, accelerating while he was at it."Yeah, just dandy."
The Audi accelerated hard, weaving through traffic. Both Cobra 11 cars gave chase.
Andre maneuvered the lights on the roof of his car without breaking eye contact with the car and the driver sped up, which told him everything he needed to know about the stop-and-explain odds. Andre pushed to a hundred and sixty. The Audi took the next exit hard and Andre took it after him, tires screeching.
Semir quickly caught up, coming around the right side of a slower car and pulling up behind the Audi. The driver had nowhere to go for a moment and Semir was right on him.
Then the passenger window went down and the barrel came out.
Andre's radio crackled before he could reach for it. "Andre, they're armed!"
Then the first gunshot rang out and Semir's car swerved quickly out of the way. Andre snatched the radio out of the holder.
"Back off before you get shot!” He snapped.
Semir’s BMW surged forward, despite his demand, closing the gap fast.
“Semir, don’t be stupid, back off!” He warned him again.
He didn't get a response, Semir just straight up ignored him.
Andre watched helplessly as his partner pulled up alongside the Audi. For a moment it looked like he was moving in for a pit maneuver...then the passenger leaned out the window, gun raised, and fired multiple shots directly into Semir’s windshield.
“Fuck!Semir!" Andre shouted, watching with wide eyes as the BMW jerked violently to the right and slammed hard into the concrete barrier with a deafening crunch of metal and shattering glass. In the rear view mirror Andre saw the car rolled to a stop against the concrete. Andre’s stomach dropped.
He forced the still-spinning Audi into the barrier as well, tires screeching, until both vehicles came to a stop. He was out of the Mercedes in seconds, gun already drawn.“Drop your weapons! Now!” he roared, voice raw with fury. “Get out of the car!”The driver and passenger, dazed from the crash, quickly tossed their guns aside. Andre moved fast, cuffing them together roughly and throwing their car keys far into the grass. He grabbed the passenger by the collar, getting right up in his face. "Your hand goes anywhere near the door handle, I'll break every single bone you got in it until there's nothing intact, you got it?!"
He didn’t wait for an answer. He was already sprinting back to his Mercedes, slamming it into drive and speeding the short distance to Semir’s wrecked BMW. The car had come to a rest at an ugly angle against the concrete barrier, smoke curling from the crumpled hood. No movement inside.
“Semir!”
Andre skidded to a stop and threw himself out, boots crunching over broken glass. He yanked the driver’s door open and the metallic stench of blood slammed into him like a fist.
And by God, there was a lot of it.
Semir was slumped sideways in the seat, head lolling against the headrest. Two obvious gunshot in his chest, one high on the left side, the other lower, closer to the center. Dark blood soaked through his shirt, rapidly spreading, dripping down onto his lap. A thin rivulet ran from the corner of his mouth, staining his chin crimson.
“Shit, shit, shit...” Andre reached in, fingers fumbling with the seatbelt buckle until it released.
He hauled his partner out as carefully as he could, supporting his weight and lowering him onto the asphalt beside the car. Semir’s body was limp, but his eyes fluttered open, unfocused and wide with shock. A wet, gurgling cough tore out of him, spraying blood across his lips and Andre’s sleeve.
Andre’s hands shook as he pulled up Semir’s shirt. It didn't look good. He bolted back to his own Mercedes, grabbed the first aid from the boot, and quickly radioed for an ambulance before sprinting back.
“Alright, it'll be alright...” Andre dropped to his knees beside Semir, pressing thick gauze pads hard against both wounds. Blood immediately soaked through. He added more pressure, leaning his full weight into it. “Come on, little bird. I'm not a fan of this much red on you.”
Semir’s chest rose in shallow, desperate hitches. Another cough wracked him, wet and choking. Blood bubbled at his lips as he gasped, eyes widening in sudden panic. His hands weakly scrabbled at Andre’s arms.
“Can’t..br.." he rasped, voice thick and gurgling. His body jerked, terror flashing across his face as he started drowning in his own blood.
Andre raised him up against his chest and craddled the back of Semir’s head, tilting it carefully to the side to help the blood drain.
“Spit it out." Andre's hand came to his jaw, opening his mouth. "Don't swallow it, let it all come out.” His voice was raw with desperation and determination.
Semir coughed again, a horrible wet sound that made Andre’s stomach twist. More blood spilled from his mouth. His breathing was growing worse, one side of his chest barely moving.
His fingers found Andre's sleeve again, grabbed it, and his eyes came up. They were glassy and terrified and completely lucid all at once.
"A-Andre." It came out as almost nothing, wrecked, bubbling at the edges. He coughed again before he could finish it, a thin line of red tracking down his chin. His hands were shaking badly. "I-I think I'm dying." The words came out wheezy and wet and just wrong, so wrong.
Andre's chest closed up completely.
"You're not, you're just panicking, it's not that bad, okay?" He got his hand to Semir's face, pressed his palm flat against his cheek. His voice came out even. He had absolutely no idea how.
Semir's eyes slid shut.
"Hey!" Andre grabbed his face with both hands, forced it up. "Semir! Open your eyes!"
A thin flutter. His lashes moved, barely.
"Look at me!" Andre's thumbs pressed into his cheekbones. "Christ, why didn't you listen, you idiot? Why do you feel the need to do this kind of crap in front of me?"
Semir's mouth opened. What came out was blood and a sound that wasn't words anymore. His hands were still on Andre's arm but the grip was loosening, and the gauze at his chest was soaked through again already, red seeping past the seal at the edges.
Andre pulled him tighter against his chest, got fresh gauze pressed over the soaked dressing, leaned his weight into it. The asphalt around them was dark and wet. Had been for a while. His hands were shaking and he couldn't stop them.
Semir's head had dropped forward against his shoulder.
Andre pulled it back and Semir's eyes opened. Barely."You sure know how to ruin a guy's plans."
"Wh-what?" A bubble of red at his lips. His brow pulled together, confused.
Andre looked at him. At the blood on his lips, the way his eyes were fighting to stay on his, and something just. Came out.
"I was going to ask you out." His voice came out wrong, nothing like he'd have wanted it to. He wasn't a man of confessions, not to anyone no matter how much he cared for them and he hated Semir forced him into this position. It really wasn't fair.
A weak sound escaped Semir, maybe an attempt at a word, maybe just pain. Another cough tore through him, violent and wet, curling his whole body forward into Andre’s chest. Andre held him through it, arm locked tight around his back, hand pressed hard over the bleeding wounds. Semir couldn't care less about his poorly timed confessions and it was probably for the best. Andre just wanted him to live even if it was to say no afterwards.
He wiped the blood from Semir’s chin with his sleeve, then immediately went back to pressing down on his chest.
Semir’s head lolled against his shoulder again, his breathing growing shallower, that awful wet rattle louder with every strained inhale.
His eyes slipped shut again.
“No, hey.” Andre gave his cheek a light but firm tap, then cradled his face again.
Semir’s eyes struggled to open, he was visibly trying. They were sitting on the road for what felt like an eternity, but couldn't have been more than three, four minutes, other drivers were pulling over now, rushing to help and Andre didn't want them there, he shouted at people to get back in their cars and move on and he knew he was harsh about it, but he just didn't want anyone who wasn't a paramedic there right now.
Semir’s breath hitched again, another weak, wet sound escaping him. His hand twitched once against Andre’s arm before falling limp.“Come on,” Andre muttered, pressing harder on the wounds, feeling fresh warmth seep against his palm. “Where the hell are they?”The minutes dragged. Five in total. It felt like fifty.
Then the flashing blue lights finally cut through the dusk, sirens getting louder as the ambulance pulled up.
The paramedics asked him questions, how many shots, where exactly, how long ago, and he answered on autopilot. They let him keep holding Semir while they worked, cutting away fabric, slapping on fresh seals, starting an IV. Andre helped them lift his partner onto the stretcher, careful with his head, his hands still shaking as they strapped him down.
They told him the name of the hospital they were heading to. He couldn’t remember it thirty seconds later. Semir looked impossibly small under the harsh lights, oxygen mask fogging slightly with every labored breath. The wet rattle in his lungs was quieter now, but Andre didn’t know if that was a good sign or a terrible one.
He wanted to climb in with them. Every instinct screamed at him to stay by Semir’s side, but he couldn’t. The two suspects were still cuffed on the side of the road, and reinforcements hadn’t arrived yet. He couldn’t leave them unsupervised.
Andre squeezed Semir’s hand tightly, then leaned down and pressed a fleeting kiss to his temple.
Then he stepped back. The ambulance doors closed, and the vehicle sped off with lights flashing and sirens blaring, disappearing down the highway.
Andre stood there for a long moment, staring after it, blood drying on his hands and shirt.
After a while, he turned slowly toward the two suspects still handcuffed in their car. When his gaze met theirs, they dodged it, neither looked remorseful, but they obviously weren't comfortable with him staring them dead in the eye and if his face looked anything like the hatred he felt towards them, that was good. For their own sake, he hoped the reinforcement would arrive soon. He was one comment away from doing something unpredictable.
---
When Andre finally walked back into the station, the usual hum of activity died instantly. Heads turned. Conversations cut off mid-sentence. A couple of officers froze with coffee cups halfway to their mouths.
He knew why. His shirt was soaked dark red, blood streaked across his arms, neck, and jaw. His hands were still stained with it even after the rushed wipe-down at the scene.
Andre walked by them without sparing anyone a look. He kept moving past them toward the locker room, ignoring the worried murmurs. The door swung shut behind him with a heavy click.
Alone, he stripped off the ruined shirt and tossed it straight into the trash. The pants followed. He stood at the sink in just his boxers and scrubbed at his skin, probably harsher than necessary. Semir’s blood had gotten everywhere, under his nails, dried in the creases of his palms, smeared across his neck and collarbone where he’d held him close. The water ran red for a long time.
He was still scrubbing when the door opened quietly behind him.
“Andre?”Engelhardt’s voice was unusually soft. He paused, hands braced on the edge of the sink, water still running.“You okay?” she asked.
He took a second, staring down at the pink tinged water swirling down the drain. Then he straightened slightly.“Yeah. I’m fine.”
A beat of silence.
“The hospital called,” she continued. “Semir's in surgery.”
Andre’s grip on the sink tightened until his knuckles went white.
“I’m going to call his mother,” Engelhardt added.
Andre didn't say anything. He reached for a towel and started drying his arms, movements still stiff.
Engelhardt lingered by the door, watching him with clear concern etched across her face.“Andre… I want you to take the rest of the day off.”
He finally turned to look at her. He felt drained. Hollow.
“…Alright,”
She gave him a small, worried nod. “He’s tough. He’ll pull through.” Andre didn’t answer. He just turned back to the sink and kept scrubbing at a spot on his wrist that had already come clean minutes ago.
---
Andre changed his clothes and drove to the hospital Engelhardt had mentioned. The streets blurred past him. He barely remembered the drive.
At the reception desk a tired woman in her thirties looked up at him. "Can I help you?"
“I’m looking for Semir Gerkhan,” Andre said. “He was brought in with gunshot wounds.”
“Are you family?”
Andre didn’t even hesitate.“I’m his partner.”
The woman nodded and gave him the floor and wing number. Andre thanked her and headed for the elevators.
When he stepped out onto the surgical floor, the hallway was quiet and sterile. At the far end, sitting alone on a row of plastic chairs, was a small woman with dark hair streaked with gray. Semir’s mother. She looked even smaller than he remembered, shoulders hunched, hands clasped tightly in her lap.
Their eyes met and for a moment neither of them moved. Then her face crumpled. She stood up on shaky legs, and Andre crossed the distance in long strides.He pulled her into his arms without a word. She clung to him tightly, her face pressed against his chest as quiet sobs shook her small frame. Andre held her close, hand rubbing slow circles on her back, his own throat burning.
They stayed like that for a long time. Eventually they sat down together. The waiting began.
Hours passed.
Andre got up at one point and bought her a bottle of water and some weak tea from the machine down the hall.
She accepted it with a trembling smile and a quiet “Thank you, Andre.” He couldn’t sit still after that.
He paced back and forth along the empty hallway, hands shoved deep in his pockets, eyes flicking toward the surgery doors every few seconds.Semir’s mother watched him quietly, occasionally dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
Neither of them spoke much. There wasn’t anything to say.It was well past midnight when the surgeon finally emerged through the double doors, still in scrubs, looking exhausted.Andre stopped pacing instantly. Semir’s mother rose to her feet.
“The surgery went as well as we could hope. He had a collapsed lung and significant internal bleeding. We repaired the damage, but he flatlined once on the table.” He paused, as the pair exchanged a worried look. “We got him back and he is stable now. He’ll be moved to ICU shortly.” Semir’s mother covered her mouth with her hand and said a quiet prayer. Andre felt the floor tilt under him for a second before he forced himself to stay upright.
“Can we see him?” Andre asked.
The surgeon gave them both a sympathetic but firm look. “I would rather ask you to come tomorrow and let him rest tonight. His body went through a serious trauma. He’ll be more aware if you come by later.”Semir’s mother nodded slowly, though her eyes were already filling with fresh tears. Andre wanted to argue. He wanted to push past the man and find Semir himself, but he knew the surgeon was right. Forcing it now wouldn’t help his partner.
The surgeon disappeared back through the doors. For a long moment, the hallway was silent again except for the distant hum of hospital equipment.
They stood there together a while longer, neither quite ready to leave. Eventually Andre guided her toward the elevators, one hand resting lightly on her back. The drive back to her house was quiet, the city lights streaking past the windows like blurred memories.
When he finally got home hours later, Andre stood under the shower until the water ran cold, watching the last traces of Semir’s blood disappear down the drain.
---
The next morning Andre drove to Semir’s mother’s house first. She was already waiting outside when he pulled up.
She gave him a small, grateful smile as she climbed into the passenger seat.The drive to the hospital was quiet. Neither of them felt much like talking.
When they reached the ICU, the nurse let them know Semir was stable enough for short visits. His mother went in first. Andre stayed back by the large observation window, arms crossed tightly over his chest, watching.
Semir looked small in the hospital bed, pale against the white sheets. A breathing tube was taped to his mouth, the ventilator beside him rising and falling in a steady, mechanical rhythm. Wires and monitors surrounded him, beeping softly. His eyes were half-open.
Semir’s mother sat down carefully on the edge of the chair beside the bed and took his hand. She spoke to him, stroking his hair. Andre couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he saw the way Semir’s fingers twitched weakly in hers. She said something, glancing to the window. Semir’s head turned in the direction she nodded to and their eyes met.
Even from this distance, the eye contact hit Andre like a punch to the chest. Semir looked at him for a long moment, something exhausted but warm flickering in his gaze. His mother said something else and gently touched his cheek. Semir gave a tiny nod.She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, whispered something more, then stood up.
When she stepped out of the room, her eyes were wet but she managed a small smile for Andre.
“Go on in,” she said quietly, squeezing Andre’s arm as she passed.
Andre stepped into the room, the door closing softly behind him. The steady whoosh of the ventilator filled the space. He pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down, then reached out and carefully took Semir’s hand in his. It felt cold, but warmth seeped into it through the contact immediately.
Their eyes met again.For a long moment. Andre's thumb brushing slowly over Semir’s knuckles.Then, Semir’s finger moving weakly against his palm.
It took Andre a second to realize he was tracing letters, the same ones repeatedly.
Y
E
S
Andre felt a small smile on his lips, first one in the last 24 hours.
---
Over the next several days, Andre fell into a new routine.
Every morning he stopped by a different flower shop before heading to the hospital. He never bought the same kind twice. One day it was deep red roses, the next bright sunflowers, then delicate white lilies, followed by vibrant gerberas. He placed them on the windowsill, on the small table beside the bed, anywhere there was space. The ICU room slowly transformed into something far less sterile.
Semir still couldn’t speak. The breathing tube had been removed, but his throat and lungs were too raw, and the doctors wanted him to rest his voice. He communicated mostly through his eyes.And those eyes said everything.
When Andre walked in each day, Semir’s gaze would go to the flowers, his eyes would wrinkle up in amusement, sometimes he'd raise an eyebrow at Andre's pick of the day, but he was definitely starting to look better each day.
Andre would sit beside the bed, take Semir’s hand, that just became a habit, even if it was a brief visit, he'd hold his hand for a while.
A few days later, Bonrath and Herzberger finally managed to swing by during visiting hours.The moment they stepped into the room, both men stopped short.“Whoa,” Herzberger let out a low whistle, eyes wide as he took in the explosion of color. “Who robbed a florist on the way here?”
Bonrath looked around. “This is more flowers than most people get at their wedding."
Semir, propped up against the pillows, gave them a tired but clearly amused look. His eyes flicked briefly toward Andre.
Herzberger laughed. “You got all these?” He turned to look at Andre with raised eyebrows. “This is more flowers than you’ve given to all the ladies in your life combined, I’d bet.”
Andre leaned against the wall near the window, arms crossed, and gave them a flat look. “Shut up.”
Semir’s eyes were sparkling with silent laughter, his gaze shifting between the two teasing colleagues and Andre.
--
The flowers kept coming.
On the eighth day it was pale pink peonies. Andre set the vase down carefully on the already crowded table beside the bed. Semir reached out slowly, brushing one finger over a soft petal, almost reverent. Then he turned his head and looked at Andre.
His voice was coming back too, still rough, only about half its usual strength, but it was there."You know,” Semir said, voice hoarse but clearly amused, “there’s genuinely no more room.”
Andre paused, glancing around the room. Every available surface was covered in flowers. The air smelled sweet and floral.
“Looks fine to me,” Andre muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching.
Semir huffed a quiet laugh that turned into a small cough. When it passed, he looked up at Andre again.
The teasing faded from his eyes, replaced by something warmer.
Andre felt it like a pull in his chest.He moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed instead of the chair. Semir’s hand found his easily, fingers threading together. For a moment they just stayed like that.
Then Semir slowly lifted his free hand, reaching up to cup the side of Andre’s face. His touch was light, a little shaky from lingering weakness.
His thumb brushed gently over Andre’s cheekbone.
For several seconds nothing happened.
And then.
Andre leaned down and slowly, hesitating for only a split second, pressed his lips to Semir's.
The kiss was soft, almost mpossibly gentle. Andre’s hand came up to cradle the back of Semir’s head and Semir sighed quietly into it, his fingers sliding weakly into Andre’s hair, answering the kiss with the same quiet tenderness.There was no rush. It was probably the tamest, most gentle kiss Andre's ever given to anyone and Semir was the last person he imagined he'd be giving it to.
When Andre finally pulled back, he didn’t go far. He rested his forehead against Semir’s, eyes still closed, breathing him in. His thumb stroked lightly over Semir’s cheek.Semir’s hand stayed on Andre’s face, his touch gentle. For a long moment neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the quiet beeping of the monitors and the faint rustle of flowers.
Andre opened his eyes first. Semir was looking at him with soft, tired affection.
He brushed his thumb across Semir’s cheek once more, then asked, “So… where do you wanna go for dinner?”Semir stared at him for half a second, then let out a weak, raspy chuckle that turned into a small cough. His eyes crinkled with genuine amusement even as he winced slightly from the movement. Andre’s mouth twitched into a small smile.