A/N: I love the episode Pilot Error, but one thing always struck me, and that's the time gap between the landing and that final scene. It's obvious that there is a time gap, because Steve's burns are healing, and also Oscar says that the General resigned from both the Air Force and Congress "last week." At least a week has gone by, probably about a week and a half, since the General when last seen was unconscious, and I assume a day or two of treatment, learning what happened, and getting a mental grip on that went by in there before his resignation. Anyway, this story is a short look at what might have happened during that week and a half.

SMD

"You did it," Greg's voice said from his right.

Steve shook his head. "No, we did it." The fresh air as the canopy of the Navion was pushed back felt marvelous, and he sucked down deep breaths of it. He was sweating. He could hear the rapidly approaching sirens of the airport emergency vehicles.

All at once, Steve was exhausted. He knew he was dehydrated; all of them had to be from the hours of hard labor out there building a makeshift runway with no water around. Furthermore, now that he had a chance to pay attention to it again, the burns across his face were hurting more as if insulted that he hadn't had a thought to spare for them for the last hour. The sweat rolling into them ramped up the pain, as well. His real eye was still stinging; the bionic one gave him no feedback at all. Both of them, even through the bandage, let in not a peep of light.

Greg grasped his arm. "They'll get you to a doctor, sir. All three of you. They'll get your eyes fixed up."

And that was the other massive problem looming up and claiming what little mental energy he had left. Steve knew that he couldn't avoid being taken to the hospital. In fact, he knew that he shouldn't avoid it. He urgently needed medical attention. But the minute the ER physicians at the airport hospital hooked him up to their instruments, they would discover that half of him was a machine, not a human.

That included one of his eyes, and the eyes would be an immediate focus of medical treatment for them. As soon as they started to examine him, his top-secret status would be out. Steve had to protect that, had to maintain security. He would call Oscar and Rudy, of course, but dealing with this situation initially would all fall on him. Nobody was likely to hand a clearly injured ER patient a phone before giving him an evaluation and emergency treatment first. Right now, when he felt wrung out, hurting, and weak, not to mention being literally blind, he had to protect protocol and secrecy. He didn't feel up to it, and that fact wasn't relevant in the slightest. No, the next hour at least, until Oscar or Rudy could be contacted and go into action, was all on him. He sighed.

The sirens stopped, and Steve heard racing footsteps. In the next moment, ladders were put quickly into place against the Navion, and a voice spoke at his elbow. "It's all right, Colonel. We're here now, and we'll take care of everything." Not quite, Steve thought. "Can you move?" the voice continued.

Steve wasn't sure, but he knew that he and Greg would have to get out of the little plane before the two unconscious back seat passengers could be reached. "Yes," he said, hoping that was accurate. He grabbed the yoke for leverage and pushed himself up from the seat, and the EMT to his left latched onto him, helping. Steve, of course, had exited the pilot seat of a plane hundreds of times in his career, both pre and post bionics. He had never done it blind, however.

On the other hand, he had never landed a plane blind, either, prior to today. With the assistance of his human guide dog, he managed to get out the door and onto the wide emergency ladder. "Easy now," the voice said. With help every step, Steve slowly backed down, finally landing on solid ground. His legs felt shaky beneath him, the connection between bionics and flesh not quite working efficiently simply due to the stress his physical body was under at the moment.

He didn't have to stay on his feet long. Two more EMTs took over immediately, one on each side, and guided him just a few steps to a gurney. They settled him down, and then, as one fastened the safety strap quickly, the other said, "Let me just get some initial vitals. We're only a few minutes from the base hospital; they'll do most of the evaluation there." Steve picked up his left arm and offered it, and the EMT obligingly grabbed that one, checking the pulse.

First trap avoided, but he knew he'd never be able to conceal his true status once he got to the ER. He felt the gurney being lifted into the ambulance, and then a blood pressure cuff was wrapped around his left arm, which he was still offering ahead of the right. This couldn't last. The game was almost up, the secret nearly out.

The ambulance ride was as short as promised, and then, as the gurney was unloaded, there came a touch on his right shoulder, and the next moment, there was a familiar voice in his ear. "I'm here, pal."

Steve shifted in surprise, though he couldn't sit up while strapped to the gurney. "Oscar! What are you doing here?"

"Never mind now. The important thing is, I'm here. I'll take care of everything."

Steve settled back against the gurney, letting himself relax for the first time in hours.