The brightness of the day had never caught his attention before. The usual smog that filled the skies of LA was strangely absent, and the rarity of white clouds seemed to float by with carefree abandon, taking on fluffy, airy shapes as they drifted by.

A dark shadow began to block his view. Or was it? Was it a dream? A sensation of floating made itself known to him, along with numbness. There was that dark shadow again, and a face…a familiar face, he thought, which was now prostrated over him. It seemed as though the dark figure was talking to him, but he couldn't understand; couldn't make out anything.

Until…

A shock of pain bolted through his body. Reality jolted John Gage into the stark reality of someone pressing incessantly on his bleeding wound. He gasped for the air that had been stolen from him.

"Come on, John. Stay with me. You're gonna be okay. Sorry buddy. Gotta try to stop the bleeding. John, You with me?" John's eyes fluttered into reality. He tried to focus on the bruised, bleeding face of Officer Jim Reed. No longer above him were the fluffy clouds, blue skies, or fresh air.

They were in the bank.

Just the confines of the bank, illuminated by the horizontal fluorescent lights that did nothing to accentuate the drab, gray dinginess of its interior, now decorated with innocent blood.

E*E*E*E*E

Roy DeSoto leaned against the black and white car with Pete Malloy seated inside, arms folded in front of him. The men were comparing notes and shaking their heads in laughter about how they seemed to find themselves on the receiving end of waiting for their junior partners in the most interesting ways.

"We just rescued a kid who was stuck in a tree. Apparently he thought he was going to 'fly' out - like Superman - but once he was up there he changed his mind. Of course, Johnny handed him down to me without any trouble, but fell in a ditch as he climbed down." A grin spread across Roy's face as he remembered his partner's muddy appearance.

"That guy can end up in the craziest places!"

"Jim tripped over some cans while chasing a 459 suspect down an alley just a little while ago, and ripped a hole in his uniform pants. I told him we should go to the station first, but he wanted to come by the bank. Sometimes we have trouble getting approval for Code 7..."

"Johnny insisted on stopping by now too - despite his muddy condition. He said something about paying off his new television set I think..." Roy rolled his eyes. "I've only heard about it twelve times so far this week."

Malloy's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Twelve times - and it's only Tuesday?"

"At least that many..." Roy said adamantly.

"A disgrace to the Uniform..that's what our junior partners are!" Pete teased good-naturedly. Both men started to laugh.

Pete's radio crackled to life alerting him to a possible 2-11 at a bank, and then listed the address…an address that made both his and Roy's heart stop. It was the address of the bank they were sitting right in front of. Neither man could breathe…or move.

And then…it happened.

A loud pop was Roy's interpretation. But Officer Malloy knew right away what it was. He ordered Roy to take cover, and reached for his radio handset.

"This is 1-Adam-12, Confirming a 2-11 in progress at 4200 Leland Way with shots fired. Request back up and 1-L20 meet me on tack-2."

Roy ran for cover behind the squad, staying low, his mind racing. He knew his best friend and partner was in that bank and was now caught in the midst of a robbery. Roy opened the passenger side of the squad, making sure to remain hidden from the bank, and reached for the handset, contacting his dispatcher.

"LA, this is Squad 51. Please be advised that we have a hostage situation at our location at 4200 Leland Way, possible injuries and ambulances will be needed." Roy's hand shook as he held the Microphone.

"10-4, Fifty-One. " Different tones sounded through the radio, but Roy didn't hear them. He just stared straight ahead at the bank doors. He was worried about his Best friend. He knew that Johnny would try to be a hero. He prayed that he hadn't been on the receiving end of the gunshot.

His gut told him otherwise.

E*E*E*E*E

"Y-You shot him! Cleve! YOU SHOT HIM! What are we gonna do now?" Wes paced nervously back and forth, running his gun-free hand through his unruly hair.

"Shut up and let me think! He made me do it! He shoulda stayed where he was! It's his own fault!" Cleve angrily retorted. Wes held his shotgun nervously on the bleeding hostage.

Jim Reed glanced up from his friend for a second, sensing the tension between the two suspects. He pressed his hand on the bullet wound, but pulled back a little as Johnny groaned.

"Hey, try to stay still...I have to stop the bleeding. Good news is I think it went through. Things could be worse..."

"Y-you don't look so g-good..." John commented, with a worried look at his friend's pale face.

"They just hit me in the back of the head. Can't hurt me that way." Jim tried to laugh at his own joke, but despite his protests, his head really throbbed.

"Get over there and tie him up!" Cleve ordered with a shout. "NOW! While I cover you! We can't let these two pretty boys plot and plan..." Cleve's agitation was growing by the minute.

Jim's muscles tightened, and his jaw clenched. Despite being pistol-whipped by his captors, and the ache he felt with every movement, the young officer was determined to apply pressure to the bleeding wound in his friend's side.

Johnny and Jim exchanged glances. In that moment, they shared a look of trust and friendship.

Wes approached the two men with caution. "You... cop... Move away from him."

"He's bleeding." Jim replied simply. "I'm not moving."

"Move!" Wes repeated with a little more boldness, as he moved a step closer, waving his gun carelessly.

"No." Jim stayed in the kneeling position by his friend, carefully watching the desperate man. He fought to keep his mind clear from the dizziness that was clouding his thoughts.

"I said Move! Over to that pole! NOW!" Wes yelled.

"You'd better go, Jim." Johnny's hand gently replaced Jim's, putting pressure on the bullet wound in his side.

"Listen to him Blue Boy. I'd hate to have two hostages with holes in them." Cleve sneered hatefully at the two men on the floor.

"Okay... okay, I'll go." Jim stood up, but the sudden movement caused him to reel. Wes caught his arm and shoved him towards the pillar. Jim felt himself confined by his own handcuffs. He leaned his head back against the pole, grateful that it was solid and unmoving.

"Jim?!" Johnny's weak voice was full of concern.

Jim didn't open his eyes. "I'm alright John. You okay?"

Cleve's evil laughter interrupted the two men.

"So very touching... neither of you will be okay by the end of this day..."