Otis sits at the edge of his bed and watches as figures pass by his door, looking for the one he's waiting for. He's not sure why he went this route, he could probably just wait but he's itching to get out of here. Lost in thought as knock at the door cast his drifting eyes back towards it. It wasn't who he was waiting for.

"May I come in?" Dr. Charles asks. Otis nods, sitting up straight. Charles comes in with a smile.

"I don't think we've formally met. Dr. Daniel Charles, Chef of Psychiatry," he holds out his hand. Otis is hesitant, but takes his hand. The shake is both firm and gentle.

"Otis?"

The men turn to the voice from the doorway. Cindy is poking her head inside. Otis stands and goes to her. She hands him a bag.

"Thank you, Cindy," Otis says and she gives him a small smile.

"Not a problem," Cindy says, she glances up at Charles and then back at Otis. "I'm sorry if I interrupted."

"Oh, not at all," Charles says, waving a hand up.

"I have to go pick up the kids so I can't stay, but you should stop by Chris' room, he's been asking for you."

Otis pauses and gives a short nod with a tight smile. "Okay."

Cindy smiles and puts a hand on his shoulder before she leaves.

Otis puts the bag down on the bed; he's almost forgotten Charles was there.

"Well, I don't want to keep you any longer then you want to be here." Charles reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card. "If you need to talk, you can reach me on either of those numbers."

Otis takes the card and reads over the two numbers, an office and cell. He nods.

"Thanks."

Otis leans in the doorway of Herrmann's room in a pair of jeans and a gray sweater. It takes a minute before Herrmann notices him, who turns to him with a smile.

"Hey, there he is."

Otis forces a smile. "How're you feeling?"

"Oh, I'll be up and fighting fires again in no time." Herrmann tries to hang onto his smile, but it wavers slightly. "You got discharged?"

Otis looks down at his clothes. "Yeah, I, um, signed my release forms. I mean I'm fine, just a little achy."

Herrmann's smile disappears. "Anybody here to take you home?"

Otis lets out a scoff. "I'm not one of your kids, Herrmann."

Otis regretted the snippy comment immediately. He knew by Herrmann's face that the man was just looking out for him. They all were. As far as Otis knows, no one knows about what happened the other night for he had asked Cruz to not tell anyone, and he trusted his friend with that. Maybe it was just the father in Herrmann, but Otis felt like he just knew things.

"Why don't you stay a for a bit, I've got some cards-"

"I just wanna get home."

A moment of silence fell between the two men. Otis looked down and Herrmann took that opportunity to really examine his friend. From the years he spent with Otis he can see right through the mask he was trying so hard to keep in place. He also knows he won't be able to keep him here.

"Well, get home and get some rest. In a real bed."

Otis let out a small chuckle; he gave Herrmann's arm a pat. "Will do."

Otis found himself at 51. It wasn't until halfway home that he realized he had no keys to get into the house. When he got there the trucks were gone, so he went inside and sat on the couch. Pouch hopped up next to him.

"Hey girl," he said as he began scratching her neck. She leaned her body across his thighs, welcoming the rub. He smiled down at her.

He was so distracted with Pouch he didn't even hear the trucks pull in. Pouch shot up and walked with a wagging tail over to the returning crew.

"Otis?" Casey said as everyone had the same look of surprise on their face. It was then Otis remembered he left the hospital without really telling anyone.

"Otis?" Cruz made his way through the small crowd; he was covered in sweat and soot. Otis's chest began to get tight with all eyes on him as he stood to face everyone.

"I, uh, don't have keys," he said as he began to fidget.

"Take time, take care of him."

"Sir…"

Chief Boden raised a hand, placing the other on his desk. "If anyone can help Otis through this, it's you Joe."

Cruz looked Boden in the eyes, his beginning to well up. Boden walked over to Cruz and laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

Cruz shut the door lightly behind him and Otis.

"Otis," Cruz called out before Otis can disappear into the room. Otis stopped and hesitated before he turned around.

Cruz took a moment to take in Otis. His heart ached as he can see that the joking, smart mouth, man that he was…

No, Cruz wouldn't believe that Otis was gone. Broken perhaps, but not gone. He couldn't be.

Cruz realized he was staring when Otis shifted uncomfortably and grabbed the edge of his shirt. Otis spoke faster than Cruz.

"Look, I haven't had…can I just…get cleaned up before we…" Otis looked at Cruz with desperation for an understanding.

Cruz's heart broke even more. He nodded.

"Of course."

Otis mustered up the best and smallest smile he could before turning and walking down the hall.

With Otis out of sight, Cruz allowed his stance to slump and he made his way to the couch. He sat down heavy and leaned forward onto his knees. He brought his hands to his face and tried to rub the exhaustion, both mentally and physically away. He let out a sigh and leaned back on the couch to listen.

When he heard the sound of the shower start he waited a few seconds. He brought his hand to his mouth, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It wasn't enough.

His brows furrowed as the cries began to rack his body. The tears didn't come right away but they did. He tried to wipe them away with the palm of his hand but that never helps. He let himself cry until he could get ahold of his breathing. He took deep breaths through his stuffed nose and let them out shakily through his mouth. When he was steady he got up and went to the kitchen. He ran the water and splashed his face with the cold water. He took paper towel and patted himself dry. He leaned over the sink for a bit, his mind just blank of any thoughts for that moment.

He heard the shower squeak off.

He took another deep breath to fend off any last shakes.

Otis was able to get out of talking with Cruz that night. At least he thought he did. He said he was tired, which wasn't a lie, and went to bed as Cruz took his turn in the shower. The minute his head hit the pillow, though, he was wide awake. He listened as Cruz did his nightly routine and the silence that followed. He lay there, hoping that he would eventually drift off, but after tossing and turning and feeling hours go by when it was actually only a handful of minutes, Otis said enough. He flung the covers off, grabbed a blanket and headed to the living room.

Nothing was on. Otis flipped through the channels robotically. How could there be not a single thing worth his time at…3:23 in the morning?

With a frustrated sigh he decided the next channel is what he would leave on. He landed on QVC and tossed the remote beside him. He pulled his blanket around his shoulders tighter and leaned back.

By 3:45 Otis was convinced him and Cruz needed this Vitamix in their lives. Mostly because he wanted to try and make creamy peanut butter out of pure peanuts, because how the hell?

"What is he making?"

Otis wasn't startled when Cruz's tired voice asked the question.

"An extreme smoothie."

Cruz sat down with his own blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"Am I readin' that price right? Cruz said as he rubbed his eyes.

"I know but what it can do," Otis said as he glanced at Cruz.

They were silent for a little as they watched the blender make soup.

"Shouldn't you get some rest? You'll be tired for shift tomorrow."

"The chief gave me some time off."

Cruz turned to Otis, their eyes met and Otis turned away. "I'm fine. You don't have to take off work to care for me."

"Stop saying that."

Otis turned to Cruz. Cruz took a deep breath.

"You're not fine," Cruz said as he shook his head. "It's me Otis, you can't lie like that to me."

Otis took a shaky breath; he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. "There's nothing you can do."

"I can be here."

"Maybe I don't want you here."

It stung, but Cruz knew better then to take the words personal. He reached for the remote and turned the TV off. Otis stared at the blank screen.

"Let's try to get some sle-"

"I wasn't supposed to wake up." Otis cut in quickly.

"What?"

Otis begins shaking his head.

"They have my ID, they know the address, they have keys they can come in and hurt-I don't want you to be around if that happens and I-"

Cruz was up and kneeling before Otis who was getting frantic and crying.

"Otis, Otis, hey, hey, no one's coming, no one's going to hurt you."

Otis just shook his head. "I don't care about me."

"Don't say that. Look at me."

Cruz took Otis's face in his hands.

"Tomorrow I will get the locks changed, okay?" Otis nodded. "We'll be okay, I promise."

Cruz pulled Otis into a hug. Otis buried his face into Cruz's shoulder. They stayed like that for a few seconds before Otis mumbled something.

"What was that?" Cruz pulled away so he could look at Otis. Otis took a few seconds until he repeated what he said.

"I remember his face."

Otis squeezed into Cruz's bed that night, falling asleep in the other man's strong embrace. Cruz listened to his friend's steady breathing, wishing it would lull him to sleep.

But it couldn't.