Steve was asleep.
Oscar sat in the plane watching him. Steve had the window seat, but as he looked over at him, Oscar wasn't even aware of the blue sky and fluffy clouds visible just beyond. No, he was fully focused on his friend.
Dr. Carlton was in the seat behind Steve, and he reached forward yet again through the back rests to put his hand against Steve's throat, checking his pulse. Steve didn't stir at the touch. "Is he all right?" Oscar asked.
Carlton nodded. "Slow and steady. The emergency work I did on his arm should buy us enough time to get back to the lab and do a full repair, and those spasms of pain should be stopped for the moment. He's just exhausted right now, I think."
"I doubt he's gotten much sleep the last two nights," Oscar said.
"Neither did you," Carlton pointed out. "You could take a nap yourself, Oscar."
"Not right now."
"I haven't got a seat mate. If we switch, you could stretch out a little, and I'll keep an eye on him."
"Maybe later," Oscar said, knowing that he would stay right here throughout the flight. He was tired, but he was barely aware of it. He just kept watching Steve.
What a man his friend was. The thought had nothing to do with his bionics. Oscar didn't think he'd ever forget Steve, in spite of his own stress and memory loss, insisting on taking time out to talk to the townspeople before they left, trying to help Angie Walker and her "people," as she called them. Most men would have been completely wrapped up in their own problems under those circumstances, but Steve over the last few days, even while confused and progressively frightened at himself, had tuned in on Angie's difficulties and wanted to help her, even insisted on it.
He was so special, as Oscar had told him after the failure of their seven million dollar man. It wasn't until Barney couldn't handle bionics that it fully struck Oscar how remarkable it was that Steve could. For he realized once he thought about it that most of the population would have reacted to superhuman strength much more like Barney than like Steve. Oscar himself wasn't sure he could have coped with it were their roles reversed.
Yet his friend had and had managed somehow to remain himself. Oscar hadn't known him closely until the crash brought their lives together, but Rudy Wells had known Steve for many years as a close friend, and he had told Oscar once that Steve had changed remarkably little after his surgery once he had adjusted. Even his adjustment had been primarily internal, never lashing out at anyone else or going overboard in his power as Barney had. Even without his memory the last two days, his basic personality had held himself well in check, and while he had been in a few fights per Angie's report, he had started none of them. He had only finished them.
Up until that last one. Oscar shuddered at how close the timing had been. Horace had been about to empty his shotgun into a helpless Steve when the sheriff's car had pulled up with Oscar and Carlton. Another minute would have been too late. Of course, with Steve's deteriorating physical condition, they had been frighteningly close on timing anyway. Oscar remembered Steve's eyes as he had knelt next to his friend. They had been dazed, full of pain, nothing remotely like themselves. Then they had fixed on Oscar, and Steve had said with quiet if puzzled certainty, "I know your face."
The memory of the words warmed Oscar. Steve still didn't know who he was, but he did remember on some level that Oscar was familiar. That alone rang bells for him at the moment.
And now they were on the way back to the lab. The short that had caused it all would be fixed, the many insulted nerves would settle down, the pain would end, and Steve's memory would return. Oscar gave a soft sigh.
From the seat behind, Carlton spoke up softly. "I hope Rudy is enjoying his vacation. When he gets back and finds out about this week, he might never leave again."
Oscar smiled. "That's true." He twisted to face the other man over the seat. "His head assistant has done a good job, though. You realized that there was a potential problem before anyone else. That warning helped us jump on things immediately when Steve disappeared and have you along and prepared to help him. If we hadn't known what was going on, you might not have even been with me on the search. And even if it took two days, we did find him in time. Everything is going to be okay now."
"Are you telling me or yourself?" Carlton asked.
"Both of us," Oscar admitted. He looked at Steve again. "He is really something, isn't he?"
"That he is," Carlton agreed.
The bell went off as the fasten seat belts sign lit. Oscar tightened his across his waist, then reached over to his friend - and hesitated. He hated to wake Steve up. On the other hand, Steve would have to wake up once they landed, anyway. Oscar reached out and shook his shoulder. He tried to do it gently, aware of those pain spasms Steve had been having and not wanting to set them off again, but Steve didn't move, and it took a good bit more effort to get a response from him. "Steve." Oscar called. "Steve!"
Steve finally snapped awake, coming alert all at once, looking around and orienting himself. Oscar could tell from his expression that he still didn't remember anything, but once Steve found him, he relaxed a little. Oscar was familiar, the one thing that was, even if the details weren't present yet.
"We're about to land, pal," Oscar told him.
Steve buckled his seat belt, then looked out the window, and Oscar could practically see wind speed, direction, and landing procedures lining up in his mind. A pilot's instincts were always awake. "I'll have to keep in touch with Angie," Steve said. "See how she's doing."
"I have no doubt you'll add her to the list of people you keep track of," Oscar said. "You have a whole lot of friends, Steve. A whole lot."
Steve cocked an eyebrow. "And enemies?"
"Those, too," Oscar admitted. "But you like the friends more."
Steve chuckled, a weak laugh but at least present. "I'm looking forward to remembering them. The friends, anyway."
"You'll remember all of it," Oscar told him. "Everything is going to be okay, Steve."
The plane set down, and Steve flinched. "Just a hair early bringing the nose down," he commented, though Oscar hadn't felt anything odd about the landing.
Oscar and Carlton both laughed, and Oscar gave his friend a pat on the shoulder. "You're one of a kind, pal. One of a kind."
"You could always build another one like you said you did me," Steve pointed out.
Oscar shook his head. "Even if we try, we'll never reproduce you. You're special, Steve." The plane rolled up to the terminal, and Oscar let out another sigh. A car would be waiting for them, and the lab wasn't far. Soon, everything would be fixed. The last few days, this whole ordeal, were over.