Steve opened his eyes to the wonderful aroma of cooked bacon.

He glanced toward the window, seeing the sun already high in the sky by the shadows it cast on the Ko'olau Mountain Range. He'd slept in longer than he had in a long time, most days witnessing the sunrise.

He raised his bed to a sitting position at the same time that something caught his eye in the decorative mirror hanging on the wall across the room. In the reflection he could see into the kitchen. The image shown nothing unusual at the moment but then all at once he saw it again, raising an eyebrow at the unexpected display.

The song on Tyler's headphones ended. She reached down to the small purple IPod attached to her shorts and turned up the volume, smiling over the next tune that began.

Wham's, Wake Me Up Before You Go Go, blasted in her ears.

It had been one of her mom's favorites. The majority of songs downloaded on the player were ones that she'd sung with her mother in the car when she was young, or while making dinner together.

She stood at the stove and began to bob her head in tune to the music, holding the spatula in one hand while her other tapped the air in beat to the tune. She flipped the bacon as her favorite part came on, lip-syncing the words as her body moved to the rhythm. She backed away from the stove and danced in the open space of the kitchen as she looked out the window above the sink, admiring the beautiful view of the ocean from the backyard.

Steve used his one good hand and pushed himself up in the bed to get a better view as she silently rocked out to whatever tune she was listening to. The white wires coming from her ears bounced with her. He wondered how in the heck they stayed in as she jerked her head to and fro.

He was smiling at the display before he knew it. She wasn't ridiculous as some would be, but on the contrary he found it fascinating. She was carefree and really seemed to be enjoying the song and the solitude.

He lowered himself back down again, a little reluctant over watching her, feeling like he was invading her privacy. She obviously didn't know she was on display, but his eyes diverted to the mirror once again, unable to stop himself as the image picked up momentum. The spatula was used like an orchestra wand as she tapped the air with it to the beat of the music in quick snaps here and there while her lips moved silently to the words. She was enjoying herself immensely.

He would have given anything at that moment to know which song of the millions in existence that she was listening to.

Tyler's attention diverted to the stove as she quickly moved over to it and pulled the frying pan filled with bacon to an empty burner. She shuffled to the fridge as the song winded down and took out three eggs and the bag of chopped spinach and tomatoes left over from the pizza the night before, setting them on the counter. She pulled the vegetable drawer open and eyed the many choices she had purchased the day before, deciding on a red pepper to give the omelet some color and texture.

She reached down to her hip and turned the volume down as an Adele song came on next, slowing down her momentum to a peaceful one, but her head still swayed gently as she mouthed the words to the tune and chopped the pepper up, mentally planning out the day with her new patient.

Steve leaned his body to the left trying to find her in the reflection of the mirror again, completely enthralled with the animated dancing. He could just make out the sight of her as she now stood by the counter, preparing his breakfast. She still moved rhythmically in place, but not with the same enthusiasm.

He lowered himself back down again but kept his eyes riveted on the mirror. She was definitely a morning person, liking that because he was too.

The smell of eggs cooking now made his mouth water. He was hungry and knew whatever she was preparing for him would be a refreshing change from what he had been fed by Mark. The day before, just before Danny's arrival, he had polished off two bowls of cereal and a piece of buttered toast. Mark hadn't even bothered to prepare it; his idea of preparation was setting the box and a half-gallon of milk on the tray with a bowl and spoon.

Tyler had been there less than twenty-four hours and had already cooked him three nutritious meals and made him workout.

He wanted to dislike her, considering the reason for her being there, but was finding it difficult. She really was good at her job and he had to respect that, especially since all of her energy was geared toward him.

He eyed the lift that had been brought in the day before and thought of the tub and shower she also had purchased, all for his convenience not hers. He had to admit the bath was a plus and so were her hands, recalling the massage. Now that he thought back on it, it wasn't so much the relaxing feeling that pleased him as it was the actual feel of another person's hands on him in that way. She wasn't just washing his hair as she had instructed him she was going to do; she was going the extra mile trying to relax him, accomplishing it as well.

Steve saw her setting the plate of food on a tray and quickly reached over grabbing his book off the table and flipping it open to the bookmarked page, pretending he was reading.

Tyler came around the corner with the headphones resting over her shoulder and tray in hand. "Good Morning," she said cheerfully. "Hungry?" She wasn't sure what kind of mood he would be in, considering the day before. His moods changed so suddenly she never knew what to expect.

He looked up from the book and gave her a sufficient grin, "I could eat. That smells good." He eyed the small IPOD on her hip, wondering the type of music it held. She looked to be about twenty-four, maybe twenty-five. The islands had a way of hiding the true age of most natives but she couldn't be thirty that he was sure of. He assumed her playlist consisted of the current hits being played on the radio. He was never into music too much, not even as a kid, but her enjoyment over it amused him, awakening a curiosity over this new person who was living in his home.

'So far so good,' she thought happily over his attitude, setting the tray down on the table and then moving it over in front of him.

She deserved better treatment than what he had thrown at her the day before, he thought, feeling slightly embarrassed over his childish behavior as he stared down at the appetizing omelet, two pieces of bacon and a slice of 100% whole wheat toast slathered with a thin layer of jelly rather than butter.

"This looks good. Thank you," he smiled as he picked up the fork.

Never had a 'thank you' meant so much to her. It was sincere too. "You're welcome. I have coffee brewing too. How do you like it?"

"Just cream is good." He cut an end off the omelet and took a bite, pleased with the taste, beginning to think that he had been sorely mistaken by hiring Mark.

She came back in a couple of minutes later with two cups of coffee, setting his down on the tray and taking hers over and sitting down on the couch. "Do you like to fish, Steve?" she asked out of the blue.

He looked over at her as he was about to shovel in another glorious bite of the eggs and bacon but held off to answer her question. "Yes, why?"

Tyler held her coffee in both hands as if using the cup to warm them. "When I was in your garage taking out the garbage I saw a couple of fishing poles. I thought maybe it would be a good way for you to get outside today. I'm sure you've probably fished right off the shore in your backyard haven't you?"

He was taken back by the suggestion, but wasn't completely opposed to it either, but then he looked down at his left hand. "I don't think I can fish with one hand."

Tyler stood up and walked over to the other side of the bed, "To be quiet honest Steve, I think you can do anything you want, it might just take a little extra effort for a while."

She slid her hand under his left one and lifted it off the mattress, holding it in a 'bro' style handshake. "Squeeze it," she ordered.

He focused his energy and slowly moved his fingers around hers and squeezed, but barely enough to make the grip.

"Not bad," she said, setting his hand back down again, "but I have something that will help." She set her coffee down, going for the stairs. "I'll be right back."

He watched her run up the steps with the same energy that she put into dancing. She was excited about whatever it was she was going to get.

She was back within seconds, smiling brightly as she tossed a pink squeeze ball back and forth between her hands.

He knew what it was, seeing one on Danny's desk before. He had used it on occasion to relieve stress when they were caught up in an extra tough case.

She came back around the other side again and put the ball in his left hand. "I want you to hold this several times a day and squeeze it. It will help strengthen your grip again. You can also use it like this," she demonstrated, putting the ball on the table and setting her palm on top of it, rolling it back and forth. "This will stimulate the nerves in your hand and forearm while you roll it."

"Pink?" he said as she put it back in his left hand. "They didn't have blue or even black maybe?"

She saw the teasing grin on his face, "Once you wear this one out," she promised, "then I'll get you a more masculine color. Consider it motivation."

She picked her coffee back up, walking out of the room toward the kitchen to clean up the breakfast mess. She couldn't be happier with the way the day was starting out so far.

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Tyler set the fishing poles down in the grass next to the large white bucket. She jogged back to the house and into the garage retrieving the tackle box next, glancing around to see if she were missing anything else, but decided that if she were, Steve would let her know. She was excited to get him outside and in the fresh air doing an activity that he obviously loved because not only had she found regular fishing poles out in the garage but she had also found spearfishing gear.

Once she had everything in place all she needed now was a fisherman she thought amusingly, going back into the house.

She came around the corner of the family room seeing him gathering up his sheets around his waist as he pulled on them, getting them free from the tuck at the bottom of the bed.

"Get out!" he shouted at her.

Tyler stopped, shocked over the display. "Steve, what's wrong? What's happ…," and then all at once she knew.

'Oh God!' she thought, angered with herself for not realizing the possibilities of an accident in this manner from the shocking change to his diet. She should have known better and prepared for it. Her first concern was not the mess that he was obviously trying to conceal but the lack of fluid in his body that could lead to dehydration. She'd cleaned up many accidents in her line of work and one more didn't bother her, but to him she thought groaning, she was pretty sure this was his first.

"Steve," she began coming closer to him, trying to ward off the unnecessary shame that he was putting on himself.

"Get out of here!" he shouted again, taking the coffee cup off the tray and hurdling it across the room as it shattered against the wall by the coat closet, clearly not aiming for her, yet his anger was plainly visible over the humiliating ordeal. He shoved the tray table in front of him out of the way as it toppled over, the dishes from his breakfast going with it. "I said get out!" he screamed at her. "Leave me alone!" He made eye contact just long enough to get his point across that he was dead serious, she better not come any closer.

"Knock it off!" Tyler yelled back as she bent over picking up pieces of the broken plate. "You're throwing a temper tantrum over something that's a completely natural bodily function and could happen to anyone so stop acting like you're the first person in the world to have accidently shit your pants! Jesus! Grow up!"

She stood up with the two broken pieces in her hand as he stared out the window, his chest heaving over the frustration and anger of the situation, his hands bound up in the sheets that covered his waist.

Tyler kept her distance but refused to give in to his request by leaving all together. "You're body is going through a change right now and sometimes things are going to happen that are beyond your control," she took a step closer to him, seeing his shoulders sag and the anger once again begin to turn to depression. "Haven't you ever been in a situation Steve that you simply couldn't control? You aren't my first patient that this has happened too. It's happened to other men besides you, better men," she said firmly. "Other men who remained calm and dignified, and didn't throw their cups across the room." The look on his face stiffened. She wasn't sure if he wanted to reach out and strangler her, or crawl under a rock. Maybe a little of both she thought amusingly.

"Just when I feel like I'm getting back on track," he spoke grimly, "something kicks me back down again. When is that going to end?"

"Never," Tyler huffed, "Just yesterday at the grocery store I thought I was on top of my game. Danny called ME for this job to come in and save the day. I was all over myself feeling pretty sassy." She sighed and rolled her eyes, "and then I knocked over a display of mangos by the checkout stand. They were everywhere! Rolling away faster than I could gather them up!" She laughed at the memory of it. "I mean really! Who puts a flimsy display of mangos by the check out area? That could only happen in Hawaii. People were staring and laughing under their breath. One kid was even videoing it," she growled. "I swear if I see that on YouTube I'll hunt him down."

She saw a hint of a smile on Steve's face and took advantage of the small opening.

"You're probably wondering what my point is. I'm just saying…shit happens."

The humorous remark that she used to literally describe his situation and hers caught him by complete surprise as he let out a laugh over it.

She watched as he slowly turned in her direction. She shrugged nonchalantly as if saying the two disasters were indeed one in the same.

He looked down at the other mess of broken glass that he had made for her, cringing over it as well. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

Tyler shrugged again, "Oh well, its done and over. Just don't make me restock your dishes with plastic though."

He chuckled again over her sense of humor, "I won't."

He looked down at the sheets, almost having forgot about the other mess. "Do you think there's a chance I could do this by myself?"

Tyler shook her head, "No. You're going to take a shower while I do the job you pay me for." She smiled, quickly changing the subject. "I've got all the fishing gear out there by the water. I'm sure I'm missing something, though," she said as she walked around the other side and moved the lift over his bed. "What kind of fish have you caught out there before?" She kept him talking, asking questions about whatever came to mind about fishing, getting him excited about the task and keeping his mind off the chore as she moved him out to the shower on the patio.

She turned the water on from the kitchen and spoke to him from the open window above the sink. "Is it ok?"

Steve pulled the shower handle off from its clip on the wall, pointing it at the floor and turned it on. The spray started out cold and then quickly became warm.

"It's fine," he yelled back as he held it over his head, letting it wash over him.

He glanced back at the window but didn't see her, knowing she was tending to his bed.

"Shit happens," he said out loud, shaking his head over it and then started to laugh, picturing her scurrying around trying to scoop up the mangos.

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"Give me it!" Steve ordered as he laughed at Tyler while she held the squirming fish under one arm, trying to get the hook out. "You're torturing the poor thing."

"I got it!" she groaned, finally getting the hook free, but lost her grip on the fish as she held up her trophy. It flopped around in the shallow surf on the beach as she tried to pin it down.

"You have to hold it by the lungs!" Steve yelled and laughed at the same time, pointing from his wheelchair at the fish. "Grab it!"

Tyler looked up at him irritably. "I'm trying!" But by the time she looked back down the fish had already made its way to deep enough water and had miraculously escaped capture.

She sat down in the water on her butt and slapped her hands down in the surf. "Damn it!" She looked over at him as he sat with his arms stubbornly crossed.

"You're not allowed to fish with me anymore until you learn how to properly hold one."

Tyler rolled her eyes at him as she got up, "It slipped. I got the hook out!" she declared, holding it up.

"That's great," Steve said unimpressed, "but where's the fish? Because that really is the most important part of fishing is actually keeping the fish after the hook has been removed."

Tyler mocked his words with her mouth in a sarcastic way.

"Who taught you how to fish anyway?" he asked as he reeled in the line to bait it.

"No one."

"Well that sounds about right."

"You act like I lost Moby Dick or something. That fish was puny. When you catch something worth bragging over then you can criticize."

Steve laughed as he baited the hook. "Have you ever cast out a line before?"

"No." She stood next to his chair watching as he tied the line with one hand and his teeth. "You're pretty good with that. Wouldn't it be nice to have both hands?"

He looked up at her, closing one eye and squinting at the bright sunlight that protruded through the trees behind her. "I'm working on it," he said, handing her the reel. "Here, hold it like this." He demonstrated how to hold the reel, moving his hand back and forth as if he were casting it out. "Its all in the wrist," he explained. "Hold this button down and as you fling your hand forward release it. The line will sail out into the water."

Tyler walked to the edge of the surf until her feet were covered and looked over her shoulder, making sure she wouldn't catch him with the hook as she leaned the pole back over her shoulder. "Like this?" she asked, flipping her wrist forward and releasing the button as he had shown. The lure rose up high over the water in a long arch, the line glistening in the sunlight as it sailed out in the ocean and finally came to rest on top of the water, slowly sinking down. She looked over her shoulder for his approval and got it.

"Nicely done!"

"Thank you," she replied with a pleasing grin as if she knew the task was attainable all along.

"You're a natural."

"It's all in the wrist," she joked.

He laughed again as she mimicked his instructions by flipping her wrist in the air. The move instantly reminded him of the entertaining show she had put on that morning for his enjoyment, unbeknownst to her of course. He made up his mind then that he liked her and he wouldn't give her any more grief. She had proved herself not only to be reliable when it came to his needs, but she also had an engaging personality. He didn't feel alone like he had with Mark, even though he had told himself that's what he wanted. There was something special about her that sensed what he needed, when he needed it, and delivered.

"I'm sorry about being kind of ass yesterday," he said to her, "the way I acted toward you. I was just…"

"You don't have to apologize to me, Steve," she interrupted, "I didn't take it personally."

He was glad for that, recalling that Danny said she had worked with the disabled before. "How long have you been a nurse?"

"About four years." She looked over her shoulder at him, "How long have you been a police officer?"

"About four years. Before that I was in the Navy?"

She knew that he had been, but all the people she knew that had joined the military put in their four years and were out. He had gone above and beyond. "Did you travel a lot?"

He thought back to the ten years of service and the countless places he'd seen and the things he'd witnessed. "Yes."

"Where did you go?"

"All over," he said distantly as if thinking about them as he said it.

"Like where?" she encouraged, intrigued over that, she on the other hand had only left the islands once in her life on a trip to California when she was eight.

Steve shrugged, "Guam, Japan, the Philippines, Italy," he sighed, concentrating on the list in his head as he recalled them all, "Korea, Kuwait, Singapore, Afghanistan, Iraq, Spain, which is really beautiful by the way. All over the US, Thailand, India, Pakistan, Germany, Turkey."

She stared at him in awe, "Was all that when you were a Navy Seal?"

"Yes."

That intrigued her even more; "I've never met a Navy Seal before?" she smiled at him with a raised eyebrow. "You're a badass!"

Steve laughed, not denying it, he was feeling pretty good about the reaction he was getting from her about his credentials. "I wasn't born that way. The training is intense to say the least."

She held on to the pole and sat down in the sand facing his chair, "What did you have to do? I saw movies showing stuff like going out in the rough surf in rubber boats and having to get in them. Or laying down with your back to the waves as they crash over you."

"That was on an easy day!" he huffed. "The first seven weeks is like being in hell. It's when they try and break you and weed out the ones that don't have the mental strength to survive in the some of the conditions that we later face on missions. Week three is literally called Hell Week. You get maybe, MAYBE five hours of sleep the entire five days. They constantly have you moving, either working out, swimming or running. And don't dare fall asleep!" he laughed. "If you do then you're targeted for even more retribution."

"Did you ever fall asleep," Tyler asked with a grin.

"Hell no!" Steve replied. "You get locked in with an alliance amongst your group of six. They look out for you, and you look out for them. If I would have fallen asleep I would have blamed them, and so would my CO, they'd be treated the same harsh way that the one who fell asleep was. That's where the whole 'never leave a man behind' begins."

"Did you ever think about ringing the bell?" she asked, knowing that was the sign that you have given up and quit.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't. We all did at one point or another, but you just keep pressing on, digging down and finding that last shred of both mental and physical strength to keep going for one more day, one more hour," he chuckled, "one more minute in some cases."

Tyler shook her head in amazement over what he had accomplished, "I don't believe you when you say you weren't born that way. I think you either have it or you don't, and obviously the people who survive do. You're a rare type of human." She looked at him trying to picture the man in uniform, guessing that he looked impressive. "I bet it felt pretty damn good when you finished."

A broad smile widened across his face, "It did. Best day of my life."

It was the first time she had seen him smile; enjoying the view and the feeling that at that particular moment he was happy, in turn making her feel the same.

"What about you?" he asked. "Have you ever done any traveling?"

Tyler snorted, "No. I went to California once when I was eight, but I didn't even get to see Disneyland."

"All the traveling I've done and I've never been to Disneyland either."

"It's the happiest place on earth," she declared.

"That's what I heard."

"Someday you'll make it there, me too. I think it would be funner to go when you have kids. Don't you think?"

She saw the happiness that she had been admiring slowly vanish over that question.

"I don't think kids are in my future," he replied sadly.

Tyler stood up with the fishing pole, "That's too bad. I think you'd make a good Dad."

He looked at her confused and a little irritated at her lack of sympathy over his dilemma in this situation. "Dad? I can't father a child! Look at me?" he used his hand to display his crippled legs.

"You can still have kids," she announced giving him the same odd expression. "You still produce sperm at the same rate as you did before. I can't believe the doctor didn't tell you that."

"He did," Steve snapped, "but…" He wanted to say 'father a kid how and with who', but felt this subject was going in a direction he didn't feel comfortable talking to a twenty something year old person about. What did she know about life and love? He felt one of those mood swings coming on. He wasn't really mad at her, he was angry at his situation. "I think I want to go back inside."

"Why? I think it's good for you to be out in the sunshine, and I also think its sad that someone who has so much to offer a child would give up so easily."

"I didn't give up! Look, I don't feel comfortable talking about this with you, besides," he huffed, turning the tables on her, "you don't know me. I could end up being a terrible dad."

Tyler laughed, looking over at him. "I had the shittiest dad of ALL dad's and I think I turned out ok, believe me, you would be fabulous."

He wasn't sure if she were being truthful about her father or just exaggerating for his sake. He wanted to ask, but then again wanted off this subject. "Can we just drop this please? I'm not exactly looking to reproduce right now, and besides, the prospect of finding someone to fulfill that request is pretty slim too nothing, so just let it go."

She went to argue that point as well but didn't. They had been getting along great and she didn't want to spoil it. She was on the verge of crossing that line, but decided to take a step back and abide by his wishes. "Do you think that little fish we almost caught is half way to Maui by now? We probably scared the bejesus out of him." She looked over her shoulder as she reeled in the line, hearing him laughing.

His laugh was just as pleasing to her ears as his smile was to her eyes. He wasn't the grumpy ole man she had predicted he would be. He just needed a firm helping hand and some much needed attention, something she found surprisingly enjoyable to supply. He was very likeable when he wanted to be. She was going to like this job very much.

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Danny poked his head in the door and smiled at Steve in his bed as he lowered the book he was reading.

"Is it safe to come in?" Danny asked cringing. "You're not going to throw another book at me are you?"

"Shut up," Steve replied, rolling his eyes as he set the book down.

Danny smiled as he came in and closed the door. "How's it going?" He glanced around the corner of the kitchen. "Everything going ok?"

"Everything's fine," he replied casually, squeezing the pink ball in his left hand that had become a permanent object, diligent with the exercises that Tyler had recommended, already feeling the benefits after only three days.

Danny walked over to him and bent over the side of the bed, looking underneath it.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked, questioning his odd behavior.

"You're in too good of a mood." He leaned over and whispered to him, "Did you kill her and hide the body?"

Steve whispered back, "Would you like to join her, just keep it up and I could arrange that."

Danny smiled; glad to see his sense of humor back. "Things are going well then." He stood back up and raised his arms out, "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Say it, c'mon, it's ok, you can do it."

"Say what?" Steve asked, knowing what he wanted but refused to give it to him.

"'You were right Danny, and I was wrong', just say it." He turned his head, looking around. "Where is Tyler anyway?"

"She's out back. I think she's cleaning that portable shower. I will say you were right with purchasing that thing. Oh wait," he said snapping his fingers, "that was Tyler's great idea wasn't it? Never mind," he grinned.

"That was a little funny," he smirked, walking to the kitchen, seeing her outside on the patio bent over the side of the tub cleaning it.

"Hey," he said as he came out.

She stood up with a rag in her hand and smiled at him, "Hi Danny."

"So you're getting use out of that?" he said of the bath.

"Yes!" she replied proudly. "He's been in three times so far. He seems to like it."

"So things are going ok?" he asked, closing the back door so they could talk freely. Steve seemed to be in a good mood but he wanted a report from her.

"Yes," she replied, leaning back against the tub as she rung out the washcloth she used to clean it. "He had his moments at first. A couple of angry outbursts, but I found if I just handle them firmly as well as him, he reacts positively to it. He even apologized once."

Danny was pleasantly surprised over that, "What do you mean firmly?"

She shrugged, "I refused to give in to him and called him on his behavior, not harshly of course, but firmly. He pouted for a minute but came around."

He was charmed over that, not knowing anyone who could 'handle' Steve. "He already seems better than he was. I'm sorry I didn't make it over here sooner, but we had a tough case. And I thought it might be good to let you get settled in without me hanging around making things harder."

"He has mood swings that come and go," she explained, her voice almost sad over it, recalling a couple. "I'll look over at him and he'll be fine and then two minutes later something will happen, or he maybe thinks of something and his whole attitude changes and I can just see the depression set in. At first he replied with anger, but now he just seems to withdraw. I try and divert it, but sometimes he's too far gone. I think he fights it too. He's not a mean person. He doesn't want to get mad and I don't take it personally, but sometimes I think he can't help it."

"He's not a bad guy," Danny said assuring her, "and I'm glad you don't take it personally. He's the most stubborn person I've ever met, but he's also the most generous and genuine. He'd give you the shirt off his back, and if you ever go to him with a problem, that problem instantly becomes his as well. I think you already have a good understanding of him. Not many people do. I knew you'd be good for him. Thanks for that."

Tyler smiled, "You're welcome. I love what I do and I love even more the progress my patients make. That to me is the biggest satisfaction I get from this job."

"Well you're very good at it," he said again. "So, what's next? Where do we go from here in his recovery? Any ideas?"

"I want to get him out and about," she replied as if she already had a plan. "Maybe start out with some hikes around the island and then eventually get out in the water."

"The water?!" Danny asked, shocked over that.

"Yes. He loves the water. What's wrong with that?"

"Umm…" he stammered, "I don't know…I guess I just never thought…" he began and then realized he was putting a limit on Steve's abilities, "You know what? I think that's a great idea. He does love the water. He swims, surfs, kayaks, and spearfishes. He's like a fish." He pointed a finger at her. "You do whatever you think is right."

"Thank you. I wanted to ask you about his medical recovery as well. Have you set a timeline to have the second bullet removed?"

"No. I don't think that's an option. There's a chance he could become paralyzed from the neck down, permanently."

"Do you talk about it?"

"Not since we were given false hope that it could be done."

Tyler tilted her head, confused over that. "What do you mean?"

"When Steve first woke up after surgery, the surgeon on call gave us the illusion that he could make a full recover from his injury." Danny's eye twitched, still angry over the incident. "He mislead us to believe that Steve could walk again after the second surgery, but he neglected to inform us of the risk it involves."

"There's a risk with every surgery," Tyler commented. "Some are simple procedures, while others are more complex like this one, but I personally have seen patients make miraculous recoveries when the odds were against them, and some who didn't recover fully that still went on to live extraordinary lives."

"So you think he should do it," Danny asked, looking at her like she was crazy, "and take the risk of losing everything?"

Tyler huffed, "You make it sound like he's already doomed and the decision hasn't even been made."

"Trust me, I know Steve and if the outcome was as described, he would rather be six feet under. It would kill him if he was nothing from the neck down."

"Nothing!" she now looked at him like he was crazy. "You think a man isn't a man, or a person isn't a whole person if they are paralyzed from the neck down. I've known some pretty fascinating and tough as nails men who are paraplegics and believe me not one of them considers their life worthless!"

"That's not what I said," he quickly retorted, trying to backtrack his words, "what I meant was…"

"I know what you meant and I think it's a shame that you put that on him. What if that bullet moves or shifts and he becomes that without the operation? What then? Do you just put the gun against his head for him and pull the trigger?"

"Whoa!" Danny stepped back putting his hands up in defense. "You are way out of line."

"No, you are! I treat him as a man; you treat him as a cripple. What did you hire me for anyway, just to feed him and bathe him until he's able to fend for himself so he can sit around the house for the rest of his life and read books? He may not be able to feel everything on his body but he still has feelings. He needs to get out and experience life again and not just physically. His spirit is gone. He needs to see the world from a new perspective so he at least has the proper mindset to make that choice. Don't you want that for him?"

He stood staring at her, suddenly seeing Steve's recovery in a whole new light. He sat down in one of the chairs at the patio table, feeling like he'd just got a hard punch in the gut, stunned over it.

"I'm sorry," Tyler said, leaning back against the tub, assured she had gone too far and maybe just got herself fired. "I just get kind of passionate sometimes about my work and I never have been one to be able to hold my tongue." She smiled sheepishly at him. "That pulling the trigger thing was a little much. Should I pack my bags?"

Danny looked up at her as he slowly smiled. "No. Jesus," he laughed, "you're exactly like him. No, you stay. Do what you feel is best for him. He doesn't like to be pushed, so be subtle."

"I know," she grinned. "We fished yesterday out back here and I decided if I can just get him excited about it he's on board. And he was."

"He fished with you?" Danny asked, shocked again.

"Yes. He even laughed. It was pretty cool."

"He laughed? Really?" liking the sound of that. "Ok, that's progress." He pointed at her as he stood up, "You defiantly stay. Whatever you need, I'll back you up."

Tyler smiled, holding her hand out to him, "Deal."

Danny returned the gesture, shaking his head; "I can't believe you got him out here to fish."

"Maybe you should take him out next time," she suggested.

"I'm not much of a fisherman, but I'd love to sit out here and just have a beer with him. We used to do that a lot. It would give you a day off too."

"I think that would be a great idea. He's free Saturday," she hinted.

Danny nodded, "Ok, Saturday it is." He sealed it with another firm handshake.

He came back inside and sat down on the couch across from Steve's lowered bed. After only three days he could already see the positive results of having Tyler around. He was shaved, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, not covered by blankets but laying on top of them, and the puffiness in his face had gone done, attributing it to what Tyler had confirmed was too much salt in his diet. He was beginning to look like Steve again.

"You look good," he said to him. "Is she feeding you well?" now wanting to get his report of her, wanting to make sure he was happy.

"She's a good cook. I eat a lot of vegies and lean meat. Three squares a day."

"That's good. How about the rest? You feeling better about a woman taking care of you?"

Steve looked down shamefully as he squeezed the pink ball in his left hand, "The idea of it was mortifying to me," he shrugged as he looked back up at him sheepishly, "but I'm pretty much over that now. She's very professional, and ok," he caved, rolling his eyes, "I'll give you the credit of doing the right thing."

Danny smiled, but didn't gloat over the recognition. "I'm glad you like her, like I said, you look good." He motioned with his head to the pink ball, "How's the hand coming along?"

Steve was actually able to lift his forearm up just slightly, a big improvement already, "Getting there," he replied enthusiastically, showing Danny how tightly he could squeeze the ball.

"Pink?" Danny grinned teasingly.

"I know," Steve chuckled, recalling he and Tyler's deal. "She said I could have a more manly color when I wear this one out, so I'm working on it."

"She's treating you ok then?"

Steve nodded, "Sometimes she can get kind of bossy, but it's ok, I think sometimes I need it."

Danny leaned back into the couch, crossing his ankle over his knee, getting comfortable. "When's your next doctor's appointment?"

"Friday."

"Have you thought about the second operation? I know the idea is out there but we really haven't talked about it."

Steve's expression transformed to one that melted away any contentment he had been feeling as he looked down again, squeezing the ball, "I haven't even come to terms with this body yet, let alone taking the risk of making my life even worse."

Danny saw first hand what Tyler had been talking about. The mood that came over him was clearly depression, wishing now he hadn't said anything, hating the sight of it. He sat up and leaned foreword resting his elbows on his knees as he spoke to him. "Hey, it's nothing that has to be decided now, or ever. You're doing great. It's going to take time to adjust, but just keep moving forward. It may not seem like it now, but there's a light at the end of this tunnel so just keep moving forward."

"It's hard sometimes to do that. I get so fucking bored Danny I just want to jump out of my skin."

"I know, but Tyler has plans to get you out and about. If you have anything you want to do, just tell her. I think she's gun ho on just about anything."

"Out and about where? She hasn't said anything to me. I'm not sure I want to do that," his voice trailing off as the image of going out in public in a wheelchair flashed before his eyes.

"Its time," Danny assured him and then reassured him. "I know what you're afraid of, but I think once you just make that first attempt, you'll be ok with it. Just like with Tyler, " he smiled.

He grinned over that and nodded but the idea was still unsettling to him. He didn't anticipate or even think that people would point and stare, it wasn't that at all, it was knowing that there would be barriers everywhere he went; some that he could overcome, but others that he could not. He had extreme limitations in his life now and facing them was going to be harder than anything he'd ever encountered before.

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Tyler set the bowl of popcorn on Steve's lap and plopped down on the couch with another one on hers.

"What movie do you want to get?" she asked picking up the remote and pointing it at the TV.

"Nothing sappy that's going to make you cry."

Tyler looked over at him and huffed, "A, I don't cry over movies and B, I don't watch those type of boring movies anyway. Have you ever seen Predator?"

A broad smile broke out across Steve's face, "I love that movie!"

"Now that's a movie," Tyler declared, searching through the list on the cable TV.

"Ok, you're not so bad," he said, taking a handful of popcorn and putting half of it in his mouth. "You just jumped up a notch."

Tyler chuckled as she found the movie and pressed the rent button, setting the remote back down. "I also like Diehard and Con Air, does that help my cause?"

Steve lifted his hand as if showing her status level and then raised it up.

"Wooo hooo," Tyler cheered. "My goal is to reach the top of the totem pole."

"If you lose another one of the fish I catch," Steve teased, "then…" he lowered his hand down two increments, as if demonstrating her demise.

Tyler laughed and took out a piece of popcorn and playfully threw it at him.

He opened his mouth as it sailed almost directly into it, only having to move his head slightly to catch it.

"Wow!" she laughed, "Good catch but an even better throw."

"I bet you can't do it again," he replied.

She took another piece and took aim before hitting him in the cheek.

"Ha! You missed, my turn."

"Care to make it interesting?" she dared.

He raised an eyebrow in interest over that, "Ok, what's the bet?"

"We each shoot, the one that gets in the others mouth first, wins."

"Ok. If I win, you have to buy me a new squeeze ball and NOT pink or fuchsia or any other lame color."

Tyler laughed, "Ok, and if I win," she bit her bottom lip, hesitant before throwing it out there, "you have to hike with me up to Makapu'u Lighthouse."

Steve's smile slid off his face as he swallowed, "I can't get up there."

"Yes you can. I can help you."

"Have you ever walked that path before? There's no way I can get up there in a wheelchair."

Tyler rolled her eyes and huffed, "Chicken. You just know you can't beat me so you don't want to play."

"You're asking a lot more than me."

"Then pick something else."

Steve didn't even have to think about it, he knew what he wanted more than anything. "I want to sleep in my own bed upstairs."

Tyler opened her mouth to object that improbability but as crazy as that request sounded to her, she knew hers was the same to him. "Ok, she agreed. Who goes first?"

"I will."

"If you get it in then I get a chance too."

"Sounds fair."

The simple, childish game that had begun as nothing more than that had shifted and now they were both playing for something they each wanted badly.

Tyler sat up on the edge of the couch to make it fair and looked at him as she held her mouth open.

Steve shuffled through the bowl on his lap until he found a kernel that was just the right size. He took a second, taking aim and tossed the piece of popcorn, hitting her in the chin."

"Damn!" he groaned. "Shit!"

"My turn," Tyler said, performing the same ritual in her bowl.

Steve sighed and held his mouth open as she aimed and hit it dead center.

"Yes!" Tyler exclaimed, raising both hands up. She pointed at him victorious, "Get a good night sleep because tomorrow we're hiking."

He sat back in his bed shaking his head, pouting over the loss. "Fine, whatever. It's going to be harder on you than me," he grumbled.

Tyler smiled triumphantly as she faced the TV, taking a handful of popcorn. "We'll see."

He looked over at her, wondering what she meant by that. He didn't have full use of his left hand yet and in no way could he push himself up the steep incline of the paved path that led to the lighthouse. She would have to do the pushing, how was that going to be hard on him?

He had begun to like her and even appreciate her, but at the moment he became almost frightened of her. The enthusiasm she displayed in getting him mobile around his house was one thing, but venturing out in public was another. He wasn't sure he was ready for that, but as he glanced over at her while she took in a handful of popcorn, he was pretty sure she didn't care if he thought he was ready or not, she was and the hike was going to take place even if there was hurricane in the forecast.

He didn't know much about her, but one thing he learned quickly was that she was stubborn and had a conniving way of getting him to do things he didn't want to. He disliked that side of her, not able to appreciate it, yet.