Jake Green tapped his brother Eric's leg to wake him. They both stood as Henchy came down the staircase and joined them in their parents…their mother's living room.

"How is she?" they asked over one another.

"Sit down, both of you. She's fine."

"She's not fine," Jake corrected the town's new, and by Henchy's estimate, temporary doctor. The physician sat down wearily in the chair opposite the two Green men.

"Of course not, Jake. That was a poor word choice on my part. She is fine, medically," he clarified.

Jake leaned his head against the back of the sofa. Eric asked, "What took so long up there?"

"Your mother wanted to talk. I listened." Jake opened his eyes at that, and the siblings looked at the doctor, their expressions saying more about what they expected to hear next than words ever could. "It was a private conversation," Henchy added. It pained him to see their reactions; that was exactly what these boys did not want to hear about their mother.

"Our mother had a private conversation with you?" Jake asked skeptically. It was said in an accusatory tone, and it stung the physician more than he'd expected. Henchy noted the signs of exhaustion in his friend: the trembling hands, the eyes open too wide in an effort to compensate for their treacherous efforts as they worked against him, his eyelids feeling like lead, as though if they closed they might not open for days. The agitation. The speaking before thinking. Henchy had heard that Jake Green could be hot headed; had heard the rumors of Jake's rebellious youth and rash past actions. He had never experienced that Jake Green personally. Even their clash over April's surgery, Henchy felt, Jake had handled well considering his emotional involvement.

Exhaustion could be a tricky thing; the physician knew that from too many experiences with it, up close and personal.

"Jake, Eric," the doctor started quietly. Calmly. "Gail just needed to talk. She could talk to me because she doesn't have so much invested in me. But we have become friends, from the clinic. There is too much that she sees and feels and remembers when she looks at you two. There has been so much stress and uncertainty these last months. She has dealt with so much, and has been so strong and brave. She does not want to break down in front of you two. I do not threaten her in the same way."

"Threaten?" Jake asked, his voice choked as he barely eked out the word, anger at the implication closing off his throat and keeping him from saying more.

"Jake, I think…" Eric began. Henchy shook his head and the younger Green brother quieted.

"Jake. Your mother just lost her husband. She nearly lost you two months ago." He turned to Eric. "Things might not have turned out so well for you. You were very lucky." Henchy looked back at Jake and then addressed both men. "April…" he began, his voice choking this time. "April is still in her heart, her death fresh in her mind. And her grandchild…" He stopped as Eric put his head in his hands. "She needed to talk things out without the emotion. Do you understand?"

Eric lifted his head and looked at his brother. The pain of what had happened with April and his child would never fully go away. He knew that. But as he watched the tears pool in his older brother's eyes, he knew that Jake shared a very similar pain. The regret of losing a father without ever getting around to talking through their pained shared past would haunt Jake for some time to come, if not for the rest of his life. Eric shook his head, mournful of what might have been.

Jake looked to Henchy and then nodded his head in understanding, the tears racing down his face. Eric breathed a sigh of relief at the non-verbal indication from his brother that he wasn't as bad off as he'd acted just moments before. Or as bad as he looked, though the younger brother knew that he had no place to talk of that just now.

Henchy looked carefully at the two men before him. They had been through hell these last days, both physically and emotionally. But these men were needed by this town; they had work to do in the morning. He needed to take action.

He began to speak when Jake asked, "Can we see her?"

"Actually, I gave her a mild sedative. She was sleeping when I left." The crash was coming, Henchy could see it. He'd seen it too many times before coming to Jericho not to recognize the signs. "I'd like you both to let me give you something, too. You need rest."

Jake wiped the tears from his face. "No. Well, actually, Eric, you should get some sleep."

"No, Jake. We both should. You heard Gray. He's set. They can hold down the fort for one night. And we have some of the colonel's men here now. We should both take advantage of the chance. It's near ten o'clock at night."

Jake Green sighed. He knew they were right. And he knew that he would not sleep this night without something to knock him out. His mind was reeling, racing with so many thoughts. Too many thoughts. Racing to thoughts of what came next for their town, of how they would make right what had been done to Stanley's farm, of what could be done next to find Heather, of what the colonel wanted with Hawkins, of what he would do about Constantino. And his mind was racing from the memories. So many memories of his dad, not all of them good. And his mind not wanting to think about putting his father in the dirt on the hill next to his beloved grandfather, as though not putting the final nail in that coffin could leave open some chance to change this most recent, awful addition to history. But this was not some science fiction story. There would be no window of opportunity to make right this terrible wrong.

Yeah, there would be no chance of sleeping this night without Henchy's help. And he had to do the right thing to honor his father's memory, no matter what. There was important work ahead, and Jake would be the one the town looked to in his dad's absence to help lead that charge. He would need to stay fresh, for his town, for his friends, for his brother, for his mother.

And for his dad.

"All right," Jake agreed. "Let's call it a night," he said as he rubbed Eric's shoulder warmly, always thinking of any person other than himself to help or to comfort. Eric pulled him into a tight embrace. It was nearly too much to bear. And as he held back a sob, a single tear fell down his cheek as Jake silently promised his father, 'We'll continue to fight the good fight, dad.'

The End.