Janet Evanovich owns all rights to the following characters. Cupcake warning.

A Walk Through Hell

Chapter 4: Peace

"No."

I sit with my arms folded across my chest, staring at the nurse beside my bed. The old battle ax just won't back down.

The nurse glares back at me unfazed, "Mr. Manoso, it is standard procedure for our patients to receive anti-depression medication. It will help to reduce the possibility of PTSD. Your doctor has ordered…"

"No."I said again sternly. I am not going to be drugged minutes before Stephanie's arrival. I need all of my pistons firing for the conversation ahead.

I can tell by the look in her eyes that she is about to throw down her trump card.

"Mr. Manoso, you have already refused your pain medication this morning. I do not believe that you are in the right state of mind to make medical decisions regarding your healthcare and…"

"Well, it's a good thing I'm here then." Tank's imposing form lumbers through the doorway. He stares down at the woman, nearly half his size.

The nurse turns her death glare to Tank, not the least bit intimidated by his massive size. "And you, SIR, would be…."

"I would be the person who holds this man's medical power of attorney, MA'AM." Tank retorts, his upper body mimicking my own.

The nurse roughly grabs her clip board from the foot of my bed, muttering as she shuffles through the door, "Ungrateful, egotistical men. Never in my life…" The door clicks shut behind her.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Wow, she just radiates warmth and kindness. I'm so glad to see you're in such gentle hands." Tank manages to choke out before laughing.

"Yeah, a real peach." I said shuddering. I would rather spend an hour in solitary confinement than five minutes alone with that shrew. I wonder when her shift is over…

"Before you even ask, Bomber stopped at the gift shop before coming up. She'll be here in a few minutes" Tank's words interrupt my exact train of thought.

"Listen man, you can't mess around with her anymore. If you love her, which I know you do, then tell her. No more games. I can't even tell you what she's been through the last couple of weeks. It was like something in her snapped…"

I was shocked to hear Tank so emotional, "I know. I've had a lot of time to think, and it's time for me to make some changes. I love her, always have."

"Good," Tank said smiling, "Because there's a line forming behind you, just waiting for you to mess up. Santos, of course, being front and center."

"Fucking vultures," I snarl. All of my men are in love with Stephanie to some degree. Lester, however, is the only one brave enough to act upon it. We will have to have a little chat when I get home; a chat involving a mat and two pairs of bare fists.

If I were to be completely honest with myself, this is my greatest fear. That a good man, like Lester, who is deserving of Stephanie would challenge my claim to her. Someone who didn't' share my same insecurities and weakness's in the relationship department; someone who didn't have the emotional barriers that I have built, someone who would be easier for her to love.

I have never been intimidated by Morelli. He is a good man, and an even better cop; but their relationship was like trying to fit the wrong two puzzle pieces together. No matter how hard they tried, they weren't made to be together.

God, I hope I'm the right fit for her.

Tank laughs as he watches the emotions flicker across my face. "Easy Rangeman, no one has tried anything... yet. I'm just saying that she is a beautiful woman and she's… different than other women. There's something about her that is really special. Any one of us would kill for her to look at us the way she looks at you. "

I nod. I know what needs to be done. I just hope I'm not too late.

I know that my time alone with Tank is limited and there is another pressing issue that I need to attend to. I shift in my bed, retrieving the folded piece of paper that I had hidden beneath my legs. I hold the paper out for Tank.

"Is this where I check yes or no if I want to go steady with you?" Tank jokes, taking the note from my hand.

"Read it, and then dispose of it."

Tank's brow furrows with confusion. I watch his eyes widen as they scan across the page…

Our mission was compromised. There is a mole in the agency. I can't stress enough the importance of keeping this information closely guarded. We were ambushed upon arrival, like cattle lead to slaughter. The debriefing was questionable. I need you to go to our most trusted sources, dig as deeply as you can, covertly. I am not sure if I or the other surviving men are being monitored.

Tank's body turns rigid, his face twisting into a scowl. "An inside man?"

I nod in affirmation.

He blows out a puff of air, "Fuck."

Before I can respond the door to my room slowly opens.

My breath catches in my throat at the sight of her, my Babe.

She is wearing a light blue silk halter top, tiny white shorts and matching flip flops; her hair spilling down around her shoulders in soft curls. In her hands she clutches a little brown stuffed bear, dressed in army fatigues with an American flag in one paw.

I have never seen anything so beautiful.

Sensing our need for privacy, Tank pats my shoulder and walks towards the door, "It's good to have you back, man. I'm going to make a few phone calls. I'll be back later."

I nod in Tank's general direction, not able to tear my eyes away from Stephanie's face.

I watch as she struggles for composure. Her face the image of a woman in grieving, as if she hasn't yet accepted that I am alive and well.

I physically ache to touch her, to console her. The emotions raging inside of me are strangling, choking me into silence.

Her eyes finally move to meet mine, her lower lip trembling. She approaches my bed slowly, her eyes scanning my body.

"Babe, I'm…"

She holds up her hand to silence me; her eyes brimming with tears.

She places the bear down beside me and moves down the bed towards my feet. She peels the sheet away from my body, draping it over the foot of my bed. I am relieved that my feet are wrapped, not wanting her to see the severity of my injury. I am left only in my thin cotton hospital gown. My heart however, feels more exposed than my body.

Her hands, soft as a whisper, caress a slow path up my body; her tears spilling onto my bare skin.

I think back to the nights that I would sneak into her apartment; unease resting heavily on me after her latest brush with fate. Needing to see for myself that she was truly okay, I would hold her gently, taking stock of her condition. Tracing the curve of her body; noting every bruise, every cut. I would kiss each tenderly, drinking her in. When I was finally satisfied with my assessment, I would lie down beside her, curving to her body. She never once woke, but subconsciously she knew I was there. She would cuddle into me, her voice dreamy with sleep; whispering my name.

And now she stands before me, drinking me in; taking her own journey to ease her mind. In this moment the reversal of our roles is so profound, I can't quite wrap my mind around it. I realize how much I need this, how much I crave her comfort.

I have forgotten what it feels like to be loved.

My defenses seem to melt away as she resurrects the man buried inside of the soldier.

I shiver from her touch as her fingers trail up my sides; pausing briefly over my injured ribs. She bends her head slowly to my chest, placing her ear above my heart. Her body racked with sobs as she listens to the sound of my heart beating.

I lay still, knowing that she needs this as much as I do. After several minutes she stands, her eyes focusing on my face. She traces the lines of my face, brushing across my jaw, my eyes and my lips. She gently runs her fingers through my shorn hair before dragging them back down to cup my face in her hands.

Our eyes meet, a smile breaking through her tear,. "Ranger… you came back." I watch as the realization sinks in.

"I'd walk through hell to return to you. I love you Babe, just the thought of you gave me the strength to make it home."

She leans into me, brushing her lips across mine, "I love you too, Ranger."

We give in to the kiss, conveying with our bodies the words of our hearts.

Thirty one years of searching, and today I finally find peace.

TBC…

Thoughts?