John talked Roy into going home at about midnight. If he had a calendar in front of him he'd have been marking off the days like he used to when he was planning his escape from his so called home. He turned on the late movie settling in to watch wishing he had some popcorn. He was finally starting to feel better, at least physically. Roy had convinced him to try to let go of the anticipation about his tribunal and possible punishments.

The Western movie shootout was thrilling and afterwards John Wayne swaggered like a bowlegged peacock across the screen with his horse. The horse looked familiar…

Oh my God, my horse, Strayboy, how could I forget him!

John berated himself. Yes, the doctors told him his memories would come back in floods and trickles but to forget a friend…

He turned the television set off with an exaggerated click of the remote tossing it on the bed beside him. Forgetting Strayboy was another blow he didn't need. He calmed himself a bit. The stable fees were paid up until the end of the month. Another worry hit. Horses were expensive to keep. If he had to pay a lawyer and his wages were already frozen, he faced the threat of having to sell Strayboy if he didn't get to keep his job.

Having to stay in an apartment, as unappealing as that would be, would be nothing compared to losing Strayboy. The ranch, he figured had been a pipedream. Not meant to happen. His fingers strayed to the phone as he looked at the clock. Roy would only have been home for an hour, it was nearly the middle of the night.

Time to grow up, Gage, he told himself as he forced himself to lay back down. The warning to himself didn't stop the tears from falling. Damned concussion! John was sick of the headaches, the forgetfulness and the fear. If I'd managed a full- on case of amnesia I wouldn't have to think of what I lost because I wouldn't know I'd ever had it. Okay, that made no sense even to him. Add confusion to the list of things that were really getting to him. And the assurances of, it's perfectly normal? Nah, not helping.

Thinking of Strayboy made Gage remember his horse from his past, the one his stepfather sold. John purposely picked the sickly and bedraggled Strayboy from the stockyard figuring he'd save a life for the one that had been lost. He tended to his neglected hooves that caused him to be cranky and his open wounds from neglect. The only history he got from the apathetic stockyard worker was that the horse had no name and was found wandering the roadways abandoned and was headed for the slaughterhouse if no one took him.

"I shouldn't have promised you I'd give you a better home Strayboy."

XXXX

She listened at the door to her patient's breathing. He was quiet. Too quiet. She crept around the corner to see the shaking shoulders and the soft gasps that were clearly being stifled only by sheer will.

The Ward Matron entered the room fully intending on doing her job. Being a former military nurse she was well used to full-grown men crying. She'd hardened herself. She had a job to do and too many patients to become attached or to care about. She took the young man's wrist, wrote in her chart. She placed her hand on his stomach, noted his respirations, she pulled the empty syringe from her starched white pocket … and put it back in there.

Oh hell, I'm not even supposed to work the night shift with my position and seniority, she fussed. When did I start believing student nurses deserved the night off when they graduated?

"Do I need to ask the on call doctor for sedation for you, Mr. Gage?" she snapped. I need to get a blood sample from you and I can't do that if you're wound up so tight I can't get the blood to flow."

Her only answer was the appearance of an arm with a rolled up sleeve that snaked out from under the blankets. This would not do. She liked the fight. She liked the determination her patients seemed to develop to get well and leave her presence. She did not like the way the boy in the bed seemed to be giving up with every obstacle presented.

Huffing she checked her watch. Two minutes until break time. She could take that arm, draw that blood, turn on her heels and leave. That was all that was required of her. Tapping her foot she fingered the syringe. There was no more gasps of anguish but the silence was worse for some reason. Where was the challenge of 'you demented vampire!' when she came for blood or 'old pervert!' when she came to bathe him?

She sat down in the chair next to the bed. Yep, it was time to retire but be damned if she missed her break. Spying a wheelchair in the corner she gruffly ordered John to sit up and assisted him in doing so. He stared at her wide-eyed.

John honestly considered that the old Ward Matron had finally gone nuts and was taking her unruly patient to the incinerator or something equally as vile. He didn't even ask where they were going as she helped him sit gently into the chair and propped his legs up on the rests covering him with a yellow blanket from his bed. She wheeled him down the hall past the floor desk and if anyone at the desk thought anything was amiss they never dared question the old Matron.

The elevator dinged and they rode down several floors with Gage finally coming out of his absolute apathy and trying to figure out where the morgue was in case the old gal finally lost her mind and was trying to kill him. They passed the main cafeteria, which was closed and ended up at the small café. Gage was unceremoniously parked without explanation at a small table. The harsher lights here caused John to blink owlishly. Sure he was tired but sleepy and tired were two different things.

In a few minutes a hot chocolate and two cookies were placed in front of him. The Matron had black coffee.

Gage had yet to say a word.

"Drink. Eat. It'll help you sleep. I don't need you awake at all hours. I have paperwork to do, other patients to handle and nurses to yell at."

John ducked his head. "Th-thank you."

The silence was almost companionable. It seemed as if both parties would prefer it until…

"So, you want to tell me why you aren't going to sleep, which you as a paramedic should know you need?"

The scold mixed with the resigned if not kind tone confused John and his past dealings with this dragon had him wondering if he should answer. He figured he had nothing to lose by answering. She was an outsider in his life so maybe she would answer him honestly without trying to protect him from what he faced when he left Rampart. Oh heck, what was he thinking, she'd rip him a new one for whining.

He tried to be matter-of-fact when he answered but this was John Gage she was speaking to for Pete's sake. Not gonna happen.

She sat and listened to him spill his guts through two cups of hot chocolate and two more cookies, admonishing him for spewing crumbs until he stopped speaking with his mouth full. Actually, Gage found that helpful, as he was able to gather his thoughts during chews. Still, there was so much to tell for such a short life.

Her break had been over for fifteen minutes but if she wasn't allowed a personal moment after forty years of nursing then she figured they could take this job and well, you know…

Gage went through all the possible consequences, real or imagined that could come from his transgressions. He lamented causing so much trouble. He finally ended on the note she had been waiting for all break.

"But I-never meant for anyone to get hu-hurt from all of this. I did m-my job. I really did. I saved a-a lot of people. I don't wanna be let go…"

Ah, from worrying, to fear, to defending himself, good! She delighted. And all this without her having to say a word other than the initial prompt. Boy, this caring stuff was exhausting.

Her patient fell asleep in the elevator. The loud ding didn't wake him. She called two orderlies to help him into bed but while waiting in his darkened room the distinct flashes of a camera shutter flicked across John's face, rousing him to full, startled awareness. Nobody messed with her patients except for her. Nobody did monkey business in her hospital.

"Wh-what's going on?" John rasped, his neck stiff from lolling in front of him.

As the orderlies entered the room, one of them stuck something into his white coat.

"Turn out your pockets," The Matron demanded.

When he failed to do as he was told the Matron reached for his pocket pulling out a camera.

"How dare you!" she roared.

The other orderly was either not in on the scheme or trying to frame his partner as he denied any wrongdoing.

"You'll be fired for this," the Matron stated.

"From the money I get from this," he tapped the camera, "I'll make more money than I can here in a year."

"And you can spend it on canteen in jail," she scolded.

John watched the exchange. There was no confusing that this man was a hospital employee, not like the people hired by KMPG to pose as them. He wasn't safe here. He'd never be safe here.

The burly man turned to leave, grabbing the camera and pushing the Matron to the floor. The other orderly bent to help her up and stood between the patient and the fleeing man.

The Matron was bit stunned and the orderly lowered her to sit on John's bed. He was so frazzled he failed to just use the call button for security and walked to the nurses desk.

John reached out tentatively and took the Matron's pulse. A bit fast but good considering what had just happened.

The room filled with people.

"It's not my fault, I didn't know he had a camera!" the other orderly insisted.

"Did they take anything besides a picture?"

Now John understood why some cultures feared being photographed. Anything besides a picture? Yeah, my soul.

"Are you hurt?"

Questions blurted from every corner. Someone sat on the remote control and yet another John Wayne western filled the room with eerie blue light reminding him of the camera flash.

Couldn't they see he was tired?

Couldn't they see he was hurting?

Couldn't they see he was about to bolt?

Gage needed quiet to think. The effects of the concussion always grew worse with noise and confusion. He tried to shut it all out.

The Matron was asked to go to Emergency to be checked out and not wanting to set a bad example for a patient she knew always hid pain, she consented, instructing the other nurses to put John to bed and not to dilly dally and she even told the security officers how she thought they should proceed. No one argued. When she was wheeled out in a wheelchair, Gage was momentarily alone.

He stood on shaking limbs, yawning but his body still wanting to fight. How could he sleep now? He checked the hall, slowly creeping out the door. He spied the stairwell. Many were the times he went there to think when he was a patient here. And he'd never been caught. Besides, he'd only be a minute, right?

He slid down the wall in the stairwell. It was draughty but he couldn't spare the energy to go get a blanket. Besides, maybe there was another employee ready to snap a picture of the child paramedic and his blanky. He didn't have the energy for anger and that scared him.

He was so very tired. Maybe if he closed his eyes here for just a minute he'd rest and relax enough so when he went back to his room he'd fall asleep. At least that was the plan but the best laid plans of mice and men, er, boys…

XXXX

"What do you mean you lost him!"

Roy was usually a quiet man. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to the head of security explain that they couldn't find Gage.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," Roy snapped slamming the phone down.

Roy arrived in the Emergency department just as the Matron was cleared for duty. She took the elevator with him back to John's room.

The nurses on duty blanched in fear and scurried off to do their rounds after a severe berating as security officers combed closets and patient rooms one by one.

The Matron headed straight for the stairwell. She ordered Roy to follow her. She pushed the door open with her butt, grabbing a wheelchair from the hall at the same time with practiced efficiency.

There shivering against the wall was John, asleep.

"How did you know…" Roy gaped, bending down to check on his partner.

"Johnny?"

Roy kept his voice soft knowing John startled with loud, demanding tones.

Blood shot eyes opened.

The Matron and Roy helped John into the wheelchair and wrapped a blanket around his body to his neck and wheeled him to his room. They dismissed the security officer's or orderlies offers to help. The nurse pressed the call button and when the desk nurse answered she told her to page Dr. Early whom she'd seen downstairs.

"S-sorry. I just needed to get-get away for a minute."

Roy wanted to scream. John had been missing for an hour.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack, Junior. Promise me you won't do that again?"

John nodded in a dejected sort of way. When Roy heard the whole story of the real orderly taking a picture of John and the rest of the ugly mess, he could understand why John had fled, which led to another subject.

"How did you know where to find him?" He turned to the Matron.

"It's my business to know where all my charges are at all times, Steve Stunning."

And how. Roy remembered how many times she came to peel John out of his room when he and Marco were hospitalized.

John stared at her as if trying to analyse the crusty old bat.

"W-wait a minute. I went to the stairwell bef-before on your shift back then…"

"And I knew you were there I assure you but I figured if I needed you I'd be able to find you."

That didn't begin to explain it and she knew it. She blushed a bit, something that until tonight Gage would bet his almost ranch on. She did have a heart somewhere deep down inside that over-starched dress, behind that ancient watch on her lapel that had watched more heartbeats start and stop than anyone could imagine.

A heating pad was placed under John's lumbar and Roy was astounded when she let him chart his partner's vitals, needing to see for himself that he was for the most part, okay.

"Well, Mr. Gage. I do have other patients to attend to and some nurses to browbeat so if you'll excuse me?"

It really wasn't a question.

"W-wait. Please. Are you okay?"

She couldn't remember the last time anyone had asked her that. How to answer…

"Fit for duty," was all she said before turning on her white shoed heels and stopping one last time to toss Roy the empty syringe and John a roll of cellulose film.

"You got the film!"

"I can't allow my patient's privacy to be compromised.

"You're like … a female James Bond!" John said, clearly impressed.

"I told you you'd learn to love me." And with that she was gone.

XXXX

Dr. Early found no additional injury from John's … what he lovingly referred to as a getaway.

John was clearly ashamed of making everyone worry again. He only meant to be gone for a few minutes.

When Dr. Early was finished rebinding John's collarbones and left, Roy sat down next to his partner.

John wanted to tell him that it was okay if he went home. But it wasn't.

"Roy? I wanna go h-home."

"Yeah, Johnny, in a few days you're going home with me," Roy said softly, noting John's drooping eyelids.

"No … you don't-don't understand. I wanna go home now."

Roy wanted to argue with his partner. He really did but the fact was, John wasn't safe here. For now it was a picture but two people had already been hurt in the skirmishes that followed and if real hospital employees were in on the paparazzi craze, how could he be protected from that?

"I know you do, Johnny," Roy sighed.

"Help me?"

John had never asked for help before. Through all of his helping Roy out with his honey-do lists and everything he couldn't remember John ever asking for anything.

"If you're asking me to break you out of here, the answer is no. But and I do mean but, if I can convince Brackett to release you to come home with me, I'll do it. I'll take you home early.

John drifted as Roy made a mental list of things he'd need for John at home. He didn't plan on taking no for an answer unless Brackett could give one good reason for John not to go home with a trained paramedic. The fact was, John was right, he wasn't safe at Rampart.

As if he could read Roy's thoughts, John murmured, "Thanks Roy…"

"Go to sleep, Junior," Roy chuckled, letting a bit of the tension leech from his shoulders as he took up residency for the night in the chair.

"Kay." John's eyes closed and he was quiet for a few minutes.

"Roy, I have a horse…"

"Go to sleep, Johnny. Tell me about it in the morning."

Kid dreamed the damndest things, Roy mused.

XXXX

"I don't like it, Roy," Brackett stated firmly. "Johnny belongs in a hospital where he can be monitored."

"But you said it yourself, these intrusions and attacks aren't going to be good for him and you know if we transfer him to another hospital it won't be good for him."

Johnny watched the conversation like a tennis match. Feeling every bit as young as his twenty-one years or less. The ward matron was walking down the hall when she stopped and stood in the doorway of his room unnoticed by Brackett or Roy. She had her coat on and was clearly off shift. Her head followed back and forth between the two men before she looked back at John and simply nodded as if a gesture said a thousand words.

"John needs round the clock care, Roy."

"I'm a paramedic Dr. Brackett."

"Guys? I-I'm right here."

Dr. Brackett didn't look finished but when Roy's undivided attention went to his partner he closed his mouth. John never knew until that moment how much he appreciated the way Roy listened to him. Sure, there were times when he was rambling that Roy ducked around the squad to get away or flicked his newspaper loudly to indicate that he was trying for some quiet time alone but when it was important, something that really mattered, Roy had always been there. That gave Gage the courage to go on.

"I want-want to go home, Dr. Brackett." Gage tried really hard to look the doc in the eye. He respected the man who had kept his secret, who had done so much for him but he knew if he was made to stay here any longer he was going to lose whatever pieces of himself he'd been able to find over the last couple days.

"But, Johnny, it's only going to be three more days…"

"Th-three more days when I can't sleep, not knowing who-who's gonna come in here and fillet me and serve me up to a news-newspaper somewhere. And old Nurse Ratchett getting hurt last night, doc, that was the-the last straw."

Just out of sight of Johnny and the other men in the room, old 'Nurse Ratchett' smiled. Johnny kept her secret. Sometime between the war and now she'd taken the yellow brick road and found a heart. But don't ever tell anyone that. Ever.

"Nurse Ratchett will be just …" Dr. Brackett trailed off looking horrified. He was so frustrated and worried about his young patient that he was actually starting to talk like him. "The ward matron is a tough lady. She can handle the orderlies."

Roy tried to stifle his laughter but it was so needed right now. Dr. Brackett calling one of the nurses Nurse Ratchett was just too funny coming from the normally very professional and together doctor.

Brackett shared a laugh in spite of himself before turning serious again.

"I have three conditions to your release."

When John sat up straighter, wincing with the sudden movement Brackett held up his hand for silence knowing that asking for silence from Gage when he can talk is liking asking for the wind to stop blowing. Brackett knew there was nothing he could say to stop the young man leaving when John complied with his request.

"First, Someone checks on you hourly through the day and night at least for the next three days, longer if complications set in. Second, complete bed rest other than bathroom and short walks in the house every two to three hours during the day to keep up your circulation and improve your strength. Third, you must eat, three meals a day plus snacks in order to gain some weight back. You're down eight pounds. Four, you will be seen by Dr. Early or myself once daily for the next three days after which you will report to Rampart every two days for at least another week until we're satisfied your healing is going well."

"Doc?" Johnny smiled. "My brain is getting better. You-you said th-three conditions. You gave f-four. See? I can-can do math."

Brackett ruffled Johnny's hair. He couldn't help it. He'd resisted it in the past because John's secret was so closely guarded but the darn kid just burrowed into the heart and stuck like plaque … okay maybe not plaque, but … oh heck, Brackett liked the kid, so sue him.

"You'll have to sign AMA papers. And get those puppy dog eyes Dixie's always talking about ready because she's gonna be mad."

Even Roy cringed at that.

"Yeah, hadn't thought about that …"

"Sure you still wanna go through with it?"

John became serious again. "I have no choice, Doc."

While Dr. Brackett went to get the papers, Roy helped John into a loose fitting pair of sweatpants and helped him thread his arms through a cotton button down shirt before putting the collarbone braces on.

John signed on the dotted line with a little difficulty and thought he and Roy would make it out of the exit without incurring the wrath of Ms. McCall. They were wrong. Roy turned John's wheelchair around to face the music.

"Well if it isn't Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," Dixie greeted, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Sorry, wrong people, Steve Stunning and John Doe here," Roy replied while Gage tried to aim his laser wounded/puppy dog eyes and trademark lop-sided smile at her.

"You I can understand wanting out of here. You've never liked hospitals, but you," she turned to Roy and pointed. "Aiding and abetting …" She tried for a hard look but just couldn't pull it off. They both looked so guilty and deep down she knew that John needed out.

"Just be good, huh, Johnny?"

"Oh he'll be good. Joanne runs a tight ship. Not to mention Jenny and Chris are still off school."

Dixie hugged Johnny and Roy wheeled him out to the waiting station wagon.

XXXX

Upstairs at Rampart, Johnny's old room was being made up for a new patient. His charts were removed and filed and the bedcovers changed and smoothed. A flashbulb went off and a satisfied cleaner sighed in contentment as he went to a payphone to call in his latest 'tip'.

XXXX

Roy walked at his partner's elbow carrying a duffel of clothing and prescriptions. The sun shone gently on Johnny's face highlighting the still vivid bruising and dark circles under his eyes. Joanne met them at the door putting her arm around Johnny's back and gently embracing him as he took the two steps up into the house gingerly.

"Uncle Johnny!" Chris ran at John like he was going to football-tackle his uncle stopping at the last minute as if unsure where he could touch, settling for a hearty handshake.

Jenny ran down the hall already in full nurse mode.

"Uncle Johnny, mommy and I made up your room." She took John's hand and led him down the hallway to 'his' room.

Joanne nodded apologetically as John's eyes found the mound of pink pillows on the bed.

"The Barbie pillows are my favourite, Uncle Johnny but Nurse Dixie told us to make sure you sit up a good part of the day to prevent new-money-ia. The Barbie ones are nice and big and fluffy and cheerful."

"Thanks, Jelly Bean," Johnny said, sounding slightly overwhelmed.

"The word you were looking for is pneumonia, Jennifer and Nurse McCall didn't want Uncle Johnny to know she called, remember?" Joanne winked. "Well now the cat's out of the bag, Nurse McCall called to give us a list of things to do and watch for even though Dr. Brackett called ten minutes before that."

In some circumstances this would have left Roy annoyed. He was after all, a qualified paramedic, but he knew how hard it was for Dr. Brackett to even agree to release Johnny so he took it for what it was and appreciated it.

John was tired and sore from the ride home. His collarbones felt like they were going to burst through the skin from the seatbelt rubbing against them on the way home. Roy helped him into bed and Jenny fussed with the blankets completely in her element. Chris brought in a glass of water. Even through the pain John smiled tiredly and accepted his meds from Roy. Roy took a set of vitals as he'd promised to call Rampart once John was settled.

Meeeow! Thud. A very enthusiastic one-eared, tailess cat was already purring and nuzzling under John's chin.

"Blister? Oh my God, girl, I missed you."

Blister proceeded to inspect her friend. She sniffed at his cast, gave it a tentative lick and then head-butted him with affection. She twirled around three times kneading the pillow beside his slightly raised torso and slipped herself into the space left between the brace and his arm.

Purring filled the room with comfort that John had missed dearly. She'd been there after every bad shift, after each doubt, after everything that went bump in the night, waking him when he needed to get up for work.

"We'll let you catch a nap, Johnny. I'll wake you for lunch," Roy said, taking Jennifer's hand and leading the reluctant little nurse from the room followed by Joanne and Chris. Before closing the door he was once again struck by how young John looked. Blister looked up at Roy as if to say 'don't worry.' Roy knew he was leaving his partner in good um, paws.