Alamode wasn't too far away from where Rick lived – he had remembered going drinking in the local bar there with Shane and some of the other officers. That had been years ago, way before Carl came along. He hadn't been out drinking with all the guys at the station for a very long time, and he missed it. Lori didn't like him going out because there were "all manner of pretty bunny boilers there just waiting to bag a handsome married man like you". He used to dispute his wife's paranoia, but after waking up next to one of those bunny boilers this morning and then waking up again inside one of them, he was inclined to agree.

Shane's stomach rumbled and he realised that he was starving. He hadn't eaten since last night based on his account of things, although Shane might have eaten at Candice's when they switched. He stopped at a store after about ten minutes and bought a ham sandwich. The store worker smiled gravely at him.
"Morning, officer," he said politely. "Is that all?"
As Rick handed over the sandwich, he saw a newspaper and picked one up. "This too." He placed it on the counter.
"Sure thing." After scanning the items and stating the price, he said something else: "Any news on your partner?"

It seemed that Shane was a regular in this shop. How many times had he been to that bar and come here the morning after? (In fairness, it was the afternoon now)
"Nothing yet. He's still… you know." He didn't know, but he was quietly hoping that the clerk would say something to give him information.
"Well, it's only been three days, I guess. There's still every chance of him waking up."
He was struck with an idea. "Say, have you heard anything about Rick on the streets? What people are saying, I mean."
The clerk was confused. "Nothing other than the truth, this is that he was shot by a degenerate convict who escaped prison. At least, that's what the papers say. Weren't you there when it happened?"
He nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I was just… you know, checking that people are telling the truth and not twisting it. Sorry to… question you." He placed the money on the table.
"That's mighty fine, officer. I understand that you don't want no lowlifes besmirching Officer Grimes' name. The police force is very popular around here, ever since you stomped out that gang culture a few years back." He pushed the money back. "Tell you what; you can have this on the house. I don't think it fair to charge an officer in such a distressing time."

He ate his sandwich in the car, soaking in the details of his hospitalisation. So three days ago – according to the paper he had taken – Officers Grimes and Walsh had engaged in a shootout with escaped convicts and two bullets were planted in Officer Grimes. He was currently comatose in Cynthiana General Hospital. There was a picture of him in his hospital bed – him, not Shane – and another one with him, Lori and Carl at seven years old, and another one of him and Shane arm in arm, wearing their uniforms. A doctor's quote was that "Mr Grimes' injuries are severe". Apparently he was very unlikely to ever wake up.

Rick wasn't hungry anymore. He dumped the half-eaten sandwich back in its wrapper and threw it in the bin next to his window. He wanted to scream again, but didn't want the store clerk to see. He drove off back to Cynthiana, which was about five more minutes away. It struck him that even though Shane had drunk lots last night, he must have drove to Candice's house. Meaning that he had been drunk driving, which was against the law he was paid to enforce. Shane had always been a careless man, but maybe Rick's hospitalisation had altered his opinion of safety to an extent that he was willing to drive drunk. That or he was just a careless dick anyway. The latter was likely the case.

It angered him that he was in hospital. It didn't just upset; hell, it devastated him, that he was trapped in that tiny room where he couldn't even feel his wife's tender touch. Except he wasn't there, was he? He was in a squad car, reading a paper about his best friend's assault that left him in a coma. So did that mean that Shane was in Rick? Shane was confined to that hospital bed while Rick walked free in Shane's body. But there was something wrong about Shane's body. It was a cruel body. It abused Candice, and now it was abusing Rick. He was trapped in Shane, which he didn't know if he should be happy about. Clearly he switched because his life was in danger, which was likely to mean that Rick wouldn't ever wake up in hospital, just like the doctor in the paper suggested. Maybe he ought to be grateful. This was his second chance at life, just in someone else's body. But that meant that Shane was the one as good as dead, with Lori crying over him every day. How could any non-sociopathic person be pleased about that?

He tried to put Shane out of his mind as he drove to pick up Carl from soccer practice. He had gotten distracted in the car and realised that it was three o'clock; school was over for the day, and soccer practice would be starting and the school field in five minutes.

He arrived at Carl's school at three fifty, after getting distracted in the car and missing a turning. He parked up near the gates as he always would do as Rick, and waited. He reminisced about the last time he had seen Carl: it had been the night before he had been shot, because he had to go into work early the next morning so he wouldn't see him. He kissed him on the forehead and told him he loved him. However could he have known that such a goodbye would be necessary? It had felt like months since he had last seen Carl, even though it had only been a few days, but more like one day for Rick. Would he look different? How was he coping?

The answers to both of his questions arrived at five past four. Carl walked through the school gates with a backpack on him and his soccer gear in a small bag in his hand. He looked different, but not because he had longer hair or he had gotten taller or something. He looked empty. He stumbled forward vacantly, without any emotion. He saw Rick, looked at him as if he was Shane, and got in the passenger seat. He barely said a word, just mumbled a greeting.

"Afternoon son," said Rick, staring at his son with concern. "How was soccer practice?"
Carl shrugged.
"Okay then. Let's get you home, unless you have any objections."
Carl coughed in shock, and suddenly looked upset.
"Sorry, did I say something wrong?" But of course he had: he knew what he'd said wrong.
"My dad used to say that when he picked me up."

How could he have forgotten that he said that to Carl? He was so stupid sometimes. He knew that he couldn't act like himself; he had to act like Shane. Who would believe him if he said that he was actually Rick and Shane was in a coma? Everyone would think he was mad. He would just have to keep his mouth shut until he found a way out of this.

If there was a way…

"Look out!"

Rick snapped back to his senses and swerved the vehicle as he nearly crashed into a parked car. He had gotten distracted while exiting the parking lot.
"Sorry, I didn't see that."
"It was right in front of you!"
"Yeah, yeah, take it easy. You're not the only one having a hard time."
He shouldn't have said that. Carl fell silent.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to put it like that."
"No, it's fine. I'm sorry."

The awkward silence remained for the rest of the way home.

When they got back to Rick's house, he parked up and undid his seatbelt.
"Come on," he said to Carl.
"Are you coming in?"
Candice came to mind when Carl said that, but he pushed her out of his mind.
"Yeah, just thought I'd say hi to your mom, see how she's doing."
"You didn't yesterday."
"Well, I am today."
Carl shrugged, clearly annoyed by Shane's tone. "Okay then."

They both got out and went to the front door. He knocked and seconds later, Lori appeared at the door, looking flustered.
"Oh, thank goodness!" she exclaimed, hugging her son to his irritation. "I got worried when you didn't get here earlier!"
"Are we late?" asked Rick.
"Not really, only by about five minutes, but that was probably because of traffic, and I'm sure I'm just being paranoid… but it was just that…"

She was so beautiful, with her perfect skin and her long, shiny black hair. Even with her family tragedy she still looked as stunning as ever. Candice was something, but there was nothing like the beauty of a loving mother and wife.
"Shane?"
"Yeah, sorry?" He was distracted… again.
"Thanks again for bringing him home. I would have been able to, but I wanted to…"
"To stay with Rick, it's okay, I get it."
She smiled, but it was an expression filled with guilt, embarrassment and pain. "How was work today?"
"Not much happened, just… you know." He had completely forgotten about work. Shit.
"At least you managed to get off early, I guess."
"How was your day?"
She sighed. Carl was already gone, probably up in his bedroom by now.
"I was just sat there next to Rick, for hours. Just like yesterday and the day before, and… I know it hasn't been long, but it's the same thing every time. Sometimes I talk, sometimes I just sit there, and I brought him flowers yesterday. Not that he could possibly notice. I just feel like… it's pointless. I don't feel any better for sitting there and hoping for a miracle cure, and he doesn't feel anything at all. Is that bad?"

The words stung him like a vicious wasp. Already she was giving up, resigning to the supposed inevitability that her husband would never wake up. She was moving on, and it had only been three days!
"You can't give up on him yet," he said with poorly concealed rage. "It's barely been half a week."
She was taken aback. "Sorry, you're right, what am I thinking? Giving up so early, I just… I don't know what to do. I'm scared."
She was sobbing now, and without any thought Rick embraced her, stroking her arm. She buried her head in his thick chest.
"You're doing your best, and that's all you can do. Look after you and Carl, and let God decide on Rick. That's all there is now."

As odd as it sounded, he forgot that he was Shane for a moment. This was his wife, he wanted to touch her. Feel her. And so he wrapped his fingers around her waist affectionately. As soon as he did it he regretted it. But then something worse than he expected happened. Lori responded. She ran her fingers down his hip slowly, feeling the tense muscles subconsciously. As she did so, his other hand slipped down her back, descending towards her ass. Shane was coming back. He was losing control.

He broke out of the hug gently but firmly at the same time.
"Right, be seeing you." He walked away, feeling Shane receding back into Rick's body.
"Right, um, yeah. Bye. Thanks for… picking up Carl."

He got back in his car and drove off down the street, mildly ashamed that he had another erection.