At 10 pm, Tom left and Milt settled himself in the chair. McCormick had just been given another dose of pain medication and, if his reaction was the same as earlier, he'd be asleep for about 3 hours. Milt was determined to use the time wisely, and he dozed off quickly after he closed his eyes. It was earlier than his usual bedtime, but the fear and adrenaline rushes of the day had tired him out.

At 1:30 am, one of the nurses entered the waiting room. "Judge?" she asked softly, then a bit louder, "judge?"

"What? Huh?" Hardcastle jerked awake, "is everything okay?"

"Mark's saying your name, I think you should come on back."

Hardcastle got up immediately and followed her back into the unit.

"He spiked a fever an hour ago, we took an x-ray, he has pneumonia."

Milt's stomach tightened into a knot, "he just got over pneumonia, did you know that?"

"I'm not sure if the doctor knows that, I'll tell him."

"I thought he was doing okay?"

As they walked together, the nurse explained.

"Since it hurts so much to breathe, he's not taking deep enough breaths, that causes pneumonia. We've started an antibiotic, but he really needs to be taking some deep breaths and coughing."

"That sounds like it'll hurt," Milt whispered worriedly.

"It will. I just gave him something else for pain, so now I really need him to take some deep breaths and cough."

The judge entered the familiar cubicle of the ICU and walked over to the bed. Mark's eyes were open. "Hey kiddo," he whispered, again reaching down for his hand.

"Mark," began the nurse in a no nonsense voice, "I need you to take in a deep breath and when you breath out, cough 3 times. Like this," and she demonstrated the technique by coughing into her arm. "I know it will hurt, but you need to try. I just put something for pain into the IV, but I need you to be awake to cough, so I couldn't give you too much, okay? I'll hold this pillow against your chest for support."

McCormick looked at her in shock, he'd been trying NOT to breathe very deeply since he'd been shot. The pain with each breath was almost unbearable, as was the terror that he'd start to bleed again and drown in his own blood..

"You can do it kiddo, just try one time," encouraged the judge.

Mark glanced up at him as though he was crazy. He couldn't even get enough air in to talk, how was he supposed to take a deep breath?

Hardcastle reached to his forehead, "how high is the fever?" he asked, noticing how hot he felt.

The nurse pointed to a monitor above his head. He followed her finger and saw the number, 102.

"Take a deep breath Mark," the nurse encouraged, but nothing happened.

"McCormick, you need to breath and cough right now!" Hardcastle ordered so loudly that his voice filled the room.

Mark closed his eyes, "he's not kidding around," he realized, and despite himself, he took a breath a little deeper than he wanted to and tried to cough as he exhaled. He ended the breath with an uncontrolled spasm of coughing and a moan, a bluish color around his lips and Milt's hands on his shoulders.

"Easy kiddo," the judge whispered, then watched the nurse quickly turn up the oxygen that was being given through a mask over Mark's nose and mouth.

Mark continued to cough, a reflex that spattered dried blood onto the inside of the oxygen mask as Hardcastle felt a kind of fear and panic he wasn't used to.

"It's okay," the nurse answered his unspoken question, "it's better to have that dried blood out of his lungs."

As Mark settled down, the nurse came around to Milt's side of the bed. She put a basin of cool water on the bedside table and soaked a cloth, then placed it against Mark's forehead.

"This will make him more comfortable, it's something you can do to help," she explained and offered the cloth to the judge, who took it immediately and began moistening Mark's forehead and face.

Mark lay exhausted, eyes closed, his whole focus on breathing. Every breath was painful, but the medication must be working because it seemed to be getting better. The cool water on his forehead felt wonderful, and he realized suddenly that he felt very hot. Too hot. They'd said he had a fever. He felt horrible, but the cool water felt better than anything. He opened his eyes and realized in astonishment that Hardcastle was the one putting the cool cloths on him. This can't be happening, he thought, this is crazy. Hardcastle doesn't do things like this. Then he thought, maybe I don't know him as well as I thought I did.

The judge pressed the cool cloth against Mark's face in a kind of trance. He'd thought the kid was out of the woods, now with the pneumonia and this fever, his condition seemed to be getting worse. He wished there was something more he could do.

"Mark?" the nurse's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Mark, open your eyes for me."

When Mark's eyes opened, Milt caught his gaze and smiled, trying to reassure the kid.

"You need to cough again, I know it's hard, but it's important," she finished.

"I don't think I can," Mark thought, "but he's gonna make me."

"You did good before kiddo, try it again," Milt encouraged.

The breath was a bit deeper this time, but the coughing was just as violent. Dried blood spattered the inside of the oxygen mask again, this time one of the clots was larger than the others. Again, Mark couldn't seem to stop the coughing once it began. He moaned toward the end of the spasm, tears in his eyes, his skin a dark, dusky color and a buzzing in his ears.

"Easy, that's enough," Milt's voice was tense and choked with emotion. He kept repeating the words until Mark was still and quiet and his color was back to normal. "Easy does it, you're okay." He wiped tears from his own eyes and then from McCormick's.

The nurse touched Mark's shoulder and squeezed it. "You did good, in an hour we need to try again, but for now, you can rest," she said to the patient. To the judge, she mouthed the words, "thanks" before she left. Then she pointed to the monitor overhead and Milt noticed the temperature was 101.4. Apparently the combination of the antibiotics and the deep breathing and coughing were starting to have an effect almost immediately.

Milt stared at Mark in shock, the kids eyes were closed, so he took up the cool cloth again and wiped not only his forehead, but his face, neck and arms.

Mark lay still, exhausted from the ordeal of coughing, but feeling that he could breath a bit easier. He'd felt the large clot come out of his lungs and immediately a raw area inside his chest, but realized at the same time that he could breathe a bit deeper, a bit easier. Despite how difficult it was to cough, he knew he had to continue, so he lay still, trying to save his strength for the next time. He opened his eyes when he felt the coolness on his face and stared at Hardcastle.

"God that feels good," he thought. Then, "why is he still here?, isn't it the middle of the night?" Then, unbidden, another thought formed in his mind, "I'm so glad he's here."

Milt saw Mark's eyes open, and began to speak. "You're doing better kiddo, the fever's coming down and you got some bad stuff out of your lungs. Just rest and let us take care of you."

"Let us take care of you," the words repeated in Mark's head, through the cloudy haze of medication and fever and exhaustion, "us...it was hard to believe, the judge wanted to help take care of him. It had to be a mistake." He couldn't seem to understand what was happening, but he was still thankful for the cool cloth, now on his neck.

He stared at Hardcastle, dazed and half asleep, trying to make sense of his being there.

"Close your eyes and try to sleep McCormick," the judge ordered, as he pushed the curly hair off his forehead with the cool wet cloth.

When Mark heard his last name, he obediently closed his eyes and gave in to the confusion and exhaustion.

H&M

The rest of the night passed. Milt was allowed to stay, and every hour, the deep breathing and coughing exercises brought a few more clots of blood out of his lungs. By morning, they were both exhausted, but Mark's fever was much lower and he was able to sleep more comfortably between coughing exercises.

"Judge Hardcastle?" the nurse whispered in Milt's ear as she touched his arm.

"Huh? Oh.." the judge jerked awake from where he'd been dozing in the chair beside the bed.

"There's a visitor in the waiting room to see you," she whispered.

Milt rubbed his eyes to clear the cobwebs. "How is he?" he asked, standing up beside the bed so he could get a better look at McCormick.

"Much better. His fever's been down for an hour now," she continued.

"That's great, ah, I'll go out and see who's here," he said as he took one more look at the kid, noticing how much his color had improved and how easily he was breathing.