Colby Granger was dead on his feet. His body ached, all over. Though he wouldn't admit it to Charlie and Amita before going to the hospital, or Don and Megan once he'd been released from the E.R., and then checked again by the nurse at FBI headquarters, he was hurting. It was good that David had been kept busy on other FBI business; he would certainly have seen through all of Colby's efforts to hide how truly lousy he felt. Granger had been through some rough stuff in his life, harrowing experiences, but being pummeled by that menacing wall of water ranked right up there as one of the most painful, and certainly most frightening, of his life.

Getting right back at it to help find the alternate-reality game killer was natural for him. He could tell his friends knew it, too, despite the worried looks he kept getting from Megan, Charlie and Amita. Colby still felt he had something to prove; the Chinese spy fiasco had not happened all that long ago. David had finally come around; his friend's continued distance and distrust had begun to take a toll on the young man. His decision to stay had been predicated on the need to get his friend to trust him again. He was grateful that they were partners in the truest sense of the word once again.

In fact, everyone had seemed to accept him back, but his head and his heart told him that he still owed these people – his friends and colleagues, and the FBI as an organization. So if it meant working through fatigue and pain to prove his commitment. . .and his worth, so be it.

Once the scene was secured, and he'd watched Amita make it back into Charlie's arms, Granger made a hasty retreat, only to remember that he'd driven over with Don and Megan. He lowered his head to his chest and sighed, knowing that they would be a while before leaving; Don Eppes was nothing if not thorough with his instructions to everyone working the scene.

Colby opened the passenger-side rear door of the Suburban, slid into the vehicle with a groan, closed the door, and laid his head against the headrest. It would have been an awkward scene out there if he'd collapsed, an inconvenience, to say the least. He knew he should be out there with his team, helping, but his not so little mano-a-mano with raging waters knowingly released to try to kill whoever found the clues left in the river had finally caught up with him. The headache that he'd been successfully ignoring due to now waning adrenaline, duty and friendship – for he was the lucky one to count Charlie and Amita as friends, not to mention his FBI comrades – that headache was now with him, full-bore. The rest of his body was none-too-happy, either. Besides being pounded by the waters, he'd knocked into the concrete wall of the river, and a metal ladder or two, before being pulled to safety by his swift-running friends.

Frankly, he felt sick, which meant that his tactical error – waiting to fill his prescriptions – was also catching up with him.

He thought about how he would explain being found like this, and that was the last thought he had before succumbing to his body's warnings.


"I don't think he passed out, but it's close."

Colby heard the conversation, and from the tone, he could tell that it had been going on for some time. He was so tired; waking up seemed like such a waste of effort.

"Did they put him on an antibiotic, as a preventative measure?" Megan Reeves asked. "That water had to have had all kinds of nasty stuff in it."

"Yes," Colby offered in answer. He figured that since he knew the answer to that question, he might as well provide it at the same time as letting his friends know that he was awake.

"Hey, he lives," Don said. Colby opened his eyes and looked toward the familiar voice. He saw Don's smiling face as he rested his hand on the Suburban's now opened door, his chin resting on top of the hand. Colby could tell that the smile was only just covering the worry.

"Barely," Granger said tiredly. "Sorry," he added.

"Don't be sorry," Don assured the young agent. "You've earned the rest." Don stopped leaning and stood up over Megan as she pulled open the emergency med kit. "I should've sent you home," Don Eppes admitted, now seeming to hover.

Colby let out a frustrated sigh. "Had work to do. I can sleep later."

Megan interrupted the brief conversation. "It's more than sleep that you need," she said warmly to her ailing friend. Straining to look toward her boss, she added, "He has a slight fever," as she removed the digital thermometer from Granger's ear.

"Okay, let's get him to the emergency room," Don ordered.

"No. Just," Colby started but paused as he tried to fish something from his pants pocket. He felt clumsy as he struggled. Megan patted his hand away once she saw the piece of paper. She held it up as though a piece of evidence as she read it.

"Prescription for antibiotics," she said accusingly. Colby winced at the clear reprimand in her tone. She found the second prescription. "I suppose this one is for pain?"

"I didn't have time. . ."

"You should have said something. One of us. . ."

"Exactly when would I have done that, Megan?" Colby challenged, raising his voice. "When we were playing the game, trying to trap this guy, when we were trying to protect Amita? Or maybe when you asked if I was okay after nearly drowning in. . ." Colby coughed suddenly, but refused to let that deter him, "a raging wall of water? Oh, wait, that part. . ." he coughed again, "didn't happen."

"Colby," Megan returned, hurt by Granger's harsh words.

"Okay, kids. That's enough," Don said. "Megan, if he'd taken the pain meds, he'd have to sign off-duty," he said, and then looking at Colby, Don added, "Which you should have done."

"The pain's not that bad, I wasn't planning on filling that one." He finished that comment with another cough, but decided that the cough was not helping his case, so chose to keep his mouth shut, for now.

Don looked at Colby as only a worried friend, and boss, could. He didn't doubt that Colby Granger would be sure that he wouldn't need the pills. He was a pretty tough guy, who had been through some rough experiences, including torture. But there was a reason doctors prescribe these kinds of things, even to people like Colby. Granger might be made of stern stuff, but everyone needed relief at times, especially in this line of work.

"Well, this case is over, Colby," Don noted as Megan put all of the supplies away, refraining from making eye contact with Granger. "And a fever could be signs of infection. And I don't like that cough. So I'm giving you tomorrow off, which brings us to the weekend, during which I expect you to relax. We're gonna fill both of these prescriptions and you're going to take some before we take our leave after getting you home. Do you have any food in your house?"

Colby rubbed his head, which had begun to throb the longer he sat. The lecturing from Don wasn't helping. He was starting to really feel like crap; he should have at least started the antibiotic, but he liked to steer clear of even that medication as it tended to make him tired, and he needed to fully focus at work. Maybe Don had been right, maybe he should have signed out, but he couldn't. It was too soon, too soon after returning.

If he'd been thinking more clearly, though, he'd have thought about what germs, parasites and toxins were in that water; ignoring that danger had also not been his smartest move. He laid his head back against the seat once more. . .it was beginning to feel far too heavy to keep holding up. He could fall asleep right here, except that his boss was talking to him. . .


"Colby," Don said loudly. The young man blinked his eyes, his lids feeling heavy. Focusing was an effort, which told him he'd probably been asleep for a while this time.

"Sorry," he said as he tried to sit up.

"It's all right," Don said as he got out of the Suburban. He came around to Granger's side of the large SUV and opened the door. "Let's get you inside."

Colby looked around and noticed that they were parked at his place; he also noted that Megan wasn't with them.

"She's getting some groceries. I've got your scripts filled."

"How long've I been out?" Granger asked as he squinted at his watch in a failed attempt to find the answer on his own.

"About thirty, forty minutes," Eppes replied as he held the door open. Colby stepped out stiffly but managed to get to the door to his place unassisted. Don followed, not planning to leave until he saw his agent take the meds he carried with him.

Granger headed towards his bedroom but was stopped by Don's voice calling him back.

"Hey," Eppes said as he ran water into a glass from the sink's faucet. He noticed the same water purifier at the sink that he had at home. Los Angeles had done a lot to get the water test results to improve over the years, but it didn't hurt to play it safe. Don wondered how much untreated water Colby had swallowed. "You need to take these pills."

"Oh, yeah," Colby said as he headed back.

"You should probably eat something."

"Too tired," the ailing agent responded, refusing to admit that he also felt too sick to eat. "Why are there three pills?"

"Because you're allowed to take 'I or 2 for pain, as needed'," Don quoted from memory from the label. "You're gonna sleep anyway."

"Hm," was Granger's only reply as he popped the pills in his mouth and then downed the full glass of water. He handed the glass to Don and then said, "I'm goin' to the head and then to bed."

"You're a poet and you don't know it," Don said jokingly, his eyes bright, his smile wide at the old joke.

"Mm," Colby muttered as he headed back toward the private area of Granger's home.

"I'll wait here for Megan," Don called. Colby waved his hand in acknowledgement as he closed the bathroom.


Colby Granger woke with a blistering headache. He was lying on his back. He turned to his side, and the aches and pains from being tossed around the previous day in the river seemed to increase the pain in his head by a huge degree. He snorted as he thought about Charlie jumping at the chance to figure out how many degrees, but that made his head hurt more. He groaned, "Oh," and then held his head with both hands. He heard movement in the room and quickly grabbed for his weapon, which was not under the mattress as expected. He shot up in the bed and moved toward the sound before he heard someone speak, someone whose voice came from directly in front of him now, in the darkness of his room.

"It's okay. It's just me."

"Megan!" He took his head in both hands again, and gritted his teeth with a moan. "Jesus, what are you doing here?" He looked at her, barely seeing her in the dark. Squinting in the too-dim light made his head hurt even more, if that was possible. "I could have. . ."

"Don't worry. I have your weapon." She looked at him worriedly. "What's wrong?"

Colby realized he was on his knees on his bed. He was glad that he decided on sweats and not his regular bedtime attire. He eased himself back down on the bed, resting his head on the pillow. "My head." He reached over and turned the bedside lamp on. "Megan, I could have hurt you without a gun."

"I'm sorry. Don and I thought someone should be here when you woke up. You look terrible. I thought you took a pain pill," she said.

"I took two, wasn't thinking straight. David. . ." he started, but decided against continuing the thought, out loud anyway. David Sinclair would have known not to give him two pain pills; his partner knew that they tended to give him killer headaches. Don and Megan wouldn't have known that. With Megan looking at him, perplexed, he figured he'd have to let her know now, too. "I get headaches with too much pain medication. It's one of the reasons I don't like taking them. It's better just to knock me out." He had been grateful that they'd done just that after Lancer's torture.

"Might also be that you haven't eaten in a while," Megan offered.

"I. . ." Granger started to challenge, but Megan cut him off.

"I checked with David, Charlie and Amita, Larry and Don. That's everyone you've been with the last. . ." Now Colby cut Reeves off.

"Okay, you win. I haven't eaten."

"Well, even though it's late, do you want to eat something? I picked up some Chinese. I could heat it up for you."

"I'm really not hungry, and I know this headache is nothing more than the pain meds. I think I'll just use the bathroom, get a drink and go back to bed."

"Okay," Megan replied, smiling uncomfortably. "I'll go get you a glass of water." She headed out of the room, but turned around suddenly, almost smacking heads with Colby, who had started for the bathroom. "Oh, uh, sorry," Megan said, stepping aside to let Granger through. "Did you want something other than water?"

"Megan," Colby said, taking her by her shoulders. "Don't do this."

"What?"

"Don't be nervous around me. I'm sorry for what I said earlier." He took his hands from her shoulders. "I was letting how crappy I feel get the better of me."

Megan gave her friend a true Megan Reeves smile. "Who knew you'd be so grumpy."

Colby snorted a laugh, but then frowned and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, who knew?"

"Is water okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Meet ya back here," Megan said. Colby grinned and started to go, but before he could Megan grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. "Colby Granger, I am so glad you're back." Her voice broke at the end.

Colby, surprised by being captured like this, put his arms around his friend and hugged her tight. He knew that he'd been welcomed back into the fold, his interactions with his colleagues had, finally, gotten back to that easy rapport that they'd had before the whole triple-agent business. But Colby had always felt there was something missing, some wrong that he still had to right with these people. A guilty conscience, earned or not, and a heavy heart could do that to a person. He was finally beginning to realize that he might just be the only one of them who still felt that way.

This hug meant more to him than he could ever say. He felt dangerously close to tears, but he knew that he was with a friend now, a friend who would give him nothing but grief if she caught a glimpse of him crying. His head was still pounding, though, so he might actually be able to pull this off. He released from the hug and stepped back.

She looked at him closely, a big smile growing on her pretty face.

"Is that a tear I see?" she asked kiddingly.

"Yeah, because my head's about to explode," Colby said, trying to explain away his emotional response.

"Yeah. Right," she said as she headed down the hallway to the kitchen.

"Megan," he countered, calling her name in warning. He heard laughter from the kitchen. Colby grinned, shook his head in defeat, knowing that he was screwed, and headed into the bathroom. He was sure David, and everybody else Megan could get her hands on would know about it by mid-morning Monday. Somehow, that thought brought him comfort.

The End.