Ducky coughed and sat up abruptly. A moment ago, a searing pain had dropped him to the wet sand. He brushed the sand from his face and frowned, touching his chest.

The phone in his hand was dead, shorted out apparently by the salt water. He looked around. He could hear the gulls and the rumble of distant thunder over the pounding surf. The air was tinged with the salty smell of the ocean and the wetness of the fog rolling in.

Something very significant had happened. He'd… he'd been at a wedding, judging from his clothing… One of Jethro's? He couldn't really remember now.

Someone was walking along the edge of the surf and Ducky slowly got to his feet. For a change, his back wasn't killing him – that was a change. Perhaps it would behoove him to take more naps on the beach, then his eyes widened.

"Father?"

"Hello, Donald, how are you, my boy?"

"They told me you were dead."

"People say a lot of things, meaning well at the time, but causing more damage than good." He smiled and Ducky saw the shadow of his own smile on his father's lips. "How have you been, my boy? You are all grown up and... um… out, I dare say."

Ducky patted his stomach. "Yes, now that Mother has passed, I am trying to eat more sensibly. Work makes it terribly difficult to have regular meals."

"I… I heard about your mother. That's pained me terribly. Even though we couldn't live together, she was still a handsome woman in her time. And kind and loving. Was her death swift?"

"No, she suffered from Alzheimer's. The end was difficult and a bit frightening for both of us."

"And now here you are. So young."

"You're very kind, but I'm a bit older than you might think." Ducky studied his father's face closely. "I suspect I have you thank for those genes. You don't look a day over forty."

"One tries to keep up one's appearance."

"But why are you here and here now?"

"I thought you could do with a bit of company, that's all. It can be a bit lonely here without someone to look after you."

"Here? You mean, this beach?"

His father's smile faded and there was suddenly a sensation of flying and the confusion of voices buzzing around his head made him struggle to stop them. He pushed at the voices, surprised that they had substance.

"Charging paddles to—"

"Wait, we have a rhythm…"

"Call the cath lab and tell them –"

"Doctor Mallard! Can you hear me?"

"What?" Ducky asked and looked around. He was alone on the beach and wondered if the whole thing had been a dream.

"It's isn't, ye know." The voice was half familiar and he turned to look at the woman.

"Mary O'Gregor! I don't believe it! Look at you!"

She laughed and swirled in a circle. "Do yae like it, Donny? My maw sewed it fer ye."

"Your mother always did have a soft spot for me. " Ducky smiled. "She so wanted you to marry a doctor."

"Aye, but I dinna want ta wait."

Ducky caught his breath and shivered. "But, Mary, you passed in the influenza epidemic. Your mother wrote to me."

"Aye, tis a pity I misled ye, Donny. Twas another."

Ducky smiled sadly. "I have discovered in my life that there always is." He reached out to touch her face, but it faded, replace by a blur of white.

"He's back with us."

"Try to be still, Dr. Mallard."

"Get me his labs and gases!"

"Do you know where you are? Dr. Mallard?"

Ducky looked around at the beach. The sun was pushing through the clouds and he could feel the warmth on his face. He resisted the urge to kick off his shoes and socks and run barefoot in the sand. He was feeling quite giddy and youthful. That's when he caught sight of two young children, working on a sandcastle.

He walked up to them and the pair looked up, smiled and returned to work. He squatted down beside them.

"Hello, there."

"Hello?" The blonde-haired girl looked away, suddenly shy.

"That's a fine castle."

"That's very kind, thank ye." She smiled up at him and it triggered a memory, long forgotten.

"My word, for a moment, you look just like a photo of my little sister, Bethany."

The girl looked over at her companion and giggled. "There's a reason for that, Donde."

"That's what she always called me. She couldn't pronounce Donald. She and her little playmate died in a…" A wave of nausea nearly took him again to his knees. "A… collapse..." He pitched forward onto the sand castle, crushing it beneath him. He could feel the grittiness of the sand against his face, the cold chill of the sea air curling around his guts.

The girl leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Come to us when ye can, Donde."

Ducky opened his eyes and squinted at the faces hovering over him. He made out a familiar face. "Mr. Palmer?" He felt as weak as a kitten.

A second face entered his view. "Well, Mr. and Mrs. Palmer actually," Jimmy corrected, grinning, and Breena giggled nervously. "How are you feeling, Doctor?

He attempted a smile. "What are you doing here? You should be on your honeymoon."

"I'm headed back to base to help with the bombing. I know I'm a poor substitute for you, Doctor, but I will do my best. I will make you proud."

"You did that long ago, Jimmy." He tried to smile, but he was so tired.

"Dr. Mallard needs to rest now." A vision of white came into view. "You can visit with him later."

There was a hand, strong and encouraging on his shoulder. "Take care, Dr. Mallard. Heal and come back to us. It wouldn't the same without you."

Jimmy faded from view and the nurse loomed over him, a nurse who looked disturbingly like his mother.

"Don't worry, Donald. You still have a long time left with your friends. But we will be here waiting when you are ready."

"I love you," he whispered before drifting off into sleep.

The nurse looked down at the bed and smiled back. "I love you, too, sweetheart." A long time ago, she'd learned to go along with her patients, even the delirious ones. She stroked his face and frowned as she shook the damp sand from her fingers. Boy, ED really messed up with this one. How had they missed all this sand?