The sterile white glare of the PIMS private room was a harsh contrast to the dusty violence of the F-10 apartment block. Haroon drifted back to consciousness, the persistent, deep throb in his left shoulder anchoring him to reality. Morphine softened the edges, but the memory of the ambush, the gunfire, and Jamal Khoso's terrified face was vivid. He blinked, his vision clearing to reveal Junior Officer Rafique sitting vigilantly in a chair by the door, his young face etched with concern and residual adrenaline.
**Rafique (leaning forward as Haroon stirred):** "SSP Sahib! You're awake! Alhamdulillah! How's the pain? Doctor said the surgery went well, no major damage, Alhamdulillah. Clean through and through, missed the bone, but... it'll take time." His relief was palpable.
**Haroon (voice raspy, testing his right arm):** "Rafique... Khoso?"
**Rafique (nodding vigorously):** "Locked down tight in high-security remand, Sir. Dolphin Force handed him over clean. Confession already started crumbling during processing. Siddiqui's singing too, trying to cut a deal now that his 'savior' story is toast. We got them both, Sir. Solid." Pride warred with the worry in his eyes as he looked at Haroon's bandaged shoulder.
Before Haroon could respond, the door burst open. Maryam stood there, breathing heavily, her face pale, eyes wide with a storm of fear, relief, and simmering anger. She'd clearly run through the corridors. Her gaze locked onto Haroon, taking in the IV line, the bulky bandage, the pallor of his face. Ubaid, thank God, wasn't with her – likely left with a trusted neighbor or Rimsha.
**Maryam (voice trembling, stepping into the room, ignoring Rafique for a moment):** "Haroon..." It was a whisper, laced with a world of unspeakable fear realized.
**Haroon (meeting her gaze, wincing as he tried to shift):** "Maryam... I'm alright. Really. Just a scratch..." The feeble attempt at reassurance died on his lips as he saw the fury ignite in her eyes.
**Maryam (her voice rising, sharp with hurt and accusation):** "A *scratch*? A *scratch* doesn't require surgery! A *scratch* doesn't have Junior Officers calling me, their voice shaking, saying 'SSP Sahib's been shot!' Why, Haroon? *Why* did you hide it from me? 'Got him. Took a nick... shoulder. Routine.' *Routine*?" Her voice cracked. "Since when is being shot *routine*? I had to hear it from Rafique!" She turned her blazing eyes towards the young officer, who shrank back slightly in his chair. "Thank you, Rafique, for telling me the truth my husband wouldn't!"
Haroon looked from Maryam's anguished face to Rafique, who looked mortified, caught in the crossfire. Then, his gaze swept to the other side of the room. He hadn't noticed them before, blurred by pain and medication. Inspector Ahmed and two other senior officers from the raid stood silently near the window. Their faces were grim, etched with the shared trauma of the firefight and concern for their commander. They had come to pay their respects, to see their leader pull through.
**Haroon (his voice low, commanding despite the pain and drugs):** "Ahmed. Rafique. Everyone." He paused, gathering strength. "Thank you. For being here. For the operation... well done. Now... please. Give us the room."
The request hung in the air. Ahmed understood instantly. He gave a curt nod, his eyes conveying solidarity and a silent apology to Maryam for the circumstances. He gestured to the others. Without a word, the three officers filed past Maryam, offering her brief, respectful nods. Rafique scrambled up, giving Haroon one last worried look before quickly following them out. The door clicked shut softly, leaving a heavy silence punctuated only by the beep of the heart monitor and Maryam's ragged breathing.
**Scene: The Storm Breaks – Anger, Tears, and the Unbreakable Tether**
Maryam stood just inside the door, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if holding her composure together by sheer force. The anger was still there, a protective shield against the paralyzing fear that had gripped her since Rafique's call, but it was cracking, revealing the raw terror beneath.
**Haroon (softly, patting the edge of the bed with his good hand):** "Maryam... come here. Please."
She didn't move immediately. She stared at him, the bandage stark white against the hospital gown, the IV line a cruel reminder of his vulnerability.
**Maryam (voice thick with unshed tears):** "Why, Haroon? Why hide it? Do you think I'm so fragile? That I can't handle the truth? That I wouldn't pray harder, *beg* Allah harder, if I knew my husband was bleeding in some half-built hellhole?" A tear escaped, tracing a hot path down her cheek. "Or... or do you think it doesn't matter to me? That *you* don't matter? That Ubaid's father doesn't matter?" Her voice broke on Ubaid's name.
**Haroon (his own eyes glistening, the tough cop facade crumbling in the face of her pain):** "No. Maryam, *no*." He took a shaky breath. "It's... it's the opposite. You and Ubaid... you're everything. The *only* everything. That call... the one I made from the ambulance... I heard your voice. I heard the fear. And all I wanted was to make it smaller. To make *my* part in causing it smaller. 'A nick... routine.' Stupid words. Cowardly words." He looked down at his bandaged shoulder. "I thought... if I made it sound small, maybe the terror you felt would be small too. Maybe I could spare you even a fraction of the agony I saw on Faiza Khalil's face." He met her gaze again, his own vulnerability laid bare. "I was wrong. So wrong. Hiding it... it made it worse. I see that now. I'm sorry, meri jaan. Truly, deeply sorry. I didn't hide it because you don't matter. I hid it because you matter *too much*. The thought of you waiting, knowing I was hurt... it felt like failing you all over again."
His explanation, raw and honest, shattered the last of Maryam's angry reserve. The tears she'd been holding back burst forth in silent, shuddering sobs. The image of him bleeding, alone in the chaos, juxtaposed with his futile attempt to shield her, was too much. She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking.
Haroon pushed himself up slightly with his good arm, gritting his teeth against the flare of pain. "Maryam... please. Come to me."
This time, she moved. Slowly at first, then almost stumbling, she crossed the room. She didn't sit on the edge of the bed; she sank onto the chair Rafique had vacated, leaning forward, her head bowed, tears dripping onto the sterile hospital floor.
**Haroon (reaching out with his right hand, gently touching her hair):** "Shhh... meri jaan. I'm here. I'm right here. Look at me."
She lifted her head, her eyes red, swimming in tears. The anger was gone, replaced by profound relief and the aftershock of fear.
**Haroon (his voice a gentle murmur):** "See? Alive. Breathing. Annoying the doctors already. The doctors say I'll be chasing Ubaid around again soon enough." He managed a weak smile. "It was close, yes. Too close. But I'm here. Because of your prayers. Because of *your* strength." He tugged her hand gently. "Come. Sit beside me. Carefully."
Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, Maryam carefully perched on the edge of the bed near his right hip, mindful of his injury. Haroon shifted slightly, ignoring the protest from his shoulder, and wrapped his good arm around her, pulling her close. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her tears dampening his hospital gown, her body trembling with residual emotion. He held her tightly, his cheek resting against the top of her head, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of her hair – his anchor in the storm.
**Haroon (whispering against her hair):** "I'm fine, Maryam. By your prayers, by Allah's mercy, I'm fine. And I'm *with you*. I'm not going anywhere. I promise. I'll be more careful. I'll be honest. No more hiding the hard truths." He kissed the top of her head. "Ubaid needs his Abbu. *I* need my Ammi Jaan." He felt her arms tighten around him carefully, her sobs subsiding into shaky breaths. "We're okay," he murmured, more to himself than to her, the words a reaffirmation. "The monster is caught. The wound will heal. And we... we are together." In the quiet hospital room, holding his weeping wife, the formidable SSP Haroon Khan found his greatest strength: the unbreakable tether of love that bound him to Maryam and Ubaid, a fortress stronger than any concrete hideout, a sanctuary that made even the shadow of death recede. They held onto each other, not just for comfort, but as a silent vow: whatever the cost, whatever the danger, they would face it together, without shadows or secrets.