An eerie silence had settled over the room that was obliquely lit by the small flashlights lying on the carpet and bouncing off the walls. Both Homicide detectives had their eyes closed, Mike's head continuing to rest on his partner's shoulder, Steve's arm around Mike's shoulders. Watson, sitting cross-legged on the carpet halfway to the door, alert for any sound from downstairs or from their detainees, was keeping a close eye on his injured colleagues.

Sirens, growing louder by the second, could finally be heard. The wails stopped abruptly then, several long seconds later, they could hear the glass and metal front door screech open. Eventually the sound of heavy footfalls started pounding up the steps and the beams of flashlights, more powerful than the ones they already had, bounced off the wall at the stop of the staircase.

"Jake!" they heard a deep voice bellow and Watson, who had scrambled to his feet, yelled back.

"Here!" He stepped into the hallway, meeting a patrol sergeant and his partner as they got to the top of the stairs.

Neither of the detectives moved but they could clearly hear Watson explain what was going on and instructing the uniformed officers to take Benjamin Sykes and his sister into custody, arresting them for assault on a police officer. More charges, of course, would be laid later, but Watson just wanted to get them out of the building as soon as possible.

More sirens were heard, and other law enforcement personnel began arriving. More flashlights appeared, and the upper floor was starting to get a little crowded. Trying to cope with their respective injuries by staying as quiet as possible, both Mike and Steve reacted only slightly when two anxious, very familiar voices cut through the growing cacophony. They could hear footsteps crossing the rug towards them, suddenly aware of a flashlight beam on their faces a split second before Haseejian's startled exclamation, "Holy hell, what happened to you two?!"

Squinting into the light, which quickly dropped to chest high, both detectives looked up, unable to see the face attached to the voice. "Norm?" Steve asked, his voice strained.

"Yeah, it's Dan and me," Haseejian said as he came a step closer and knelt on one knee. He flicked the flashlight up quickly so the beam illuminated his face momentarily. "Are you two okay?"

Mike, who was blinking slowly, trying to let his eyes adjust to the light, turned slowly in his partner's direction then froze. The look on Steve's face was part discomfort, part annoyance; he had hoped to be able to keep his injuries from Mike for awhile longer, at least until the older man had received medical attention. "What the hell…?" escaped his lips almost subconsciously.

"I'm okay," Steve assured him.

"Bullshit. What the hell happened?"

Steve shot Haseejian a peeved look, hoping the sergeant understood what it meant, then smiled at his partner reassuringly, squeezing his shoulder. "Ah, Ben Sykes and I had a… a disagreement."

"Who won?" Healey asked from the black void behind Haseejian and both Mike and Steve glanced up into the darkness, momentarily startled by the new voice.

Steve, in discomfort but not out of it completely, looked smugly into the darkness above Haseejian's head. "Which one of us is in handcuffs?" he bluffed, knowing he would come clean later.

Both Healey and Haseejian chuckled; Mike didn't. Steve's smile disappeared. "I'm okay," he assured the older man again, fully realizing no matter how many times he said it, his partner wouldn't believe him.

There was more thudding up the stairs, more flashlight beams, and two paramedics were directed into the office. Haseejian's flashlight backed away as suddenly there was a flurry of activity in the office and the hallway. There was a loud thud as a large red case was set on the desk and a big man in a dark coverall knelt in front of the two detectives. "Hi, fellas," a deep soothing voice came out of the dark, "my partner and I are just gonna check you out. Ah, you might want to close your eyes." There was a slight pause then suddenly the bright light from his headlamp snapped on.

His eyes squeezed shut, Steve felt a gentle hand on his chin and his head was tilted slightly; he knew his cut and swollen eyebrow was being examined. Squinting, he opened his eyes again, nodding once towards Mike then staring without blinking at a point just below the light source. He could see the paramedic's head go back slightly before the hand left his chin and the focus of the light swung towards Mike, whose head was down.

When the paramedic put his hand under his chin, Mike's head snapped up. He winced in pain and squeezed his eyes closed. "I'm okay," he growled through clenched teeth, "look after -"

"No, you're not, Lieutenant," the deep voice replied calmly, turning Mike's head very gently to the right and leaning forward even further as the focus of the light settled on the blood-matted hair. "And the more you resist me, the longer this is going to take." The tone was even and matter-of-fact.

Steve held his breath, waiting for the angry retort, but it didn't come. Mike had closed his eyes again, allowing the examination to continue. The gentle fingers cautiously probed the side of his head; he caught his breath in pain when they found the lump and small laceration just above his ear.

"You've got quite the bump there, Lieutenant, and you're going to need an x-ray and a couple of stitches, that's for sure." The headlamp dropped down to the broken cast lying in the cop's lap. He lifted it gently. "Any pain in your wrist or arm?"

Mike shook his head carefully. "No."

"Well, that's gonna have to be replaced, that's for sure." He lowered Mike's forearm and the headlamp came back up. "Now, if you'll let my buddy bandage your head, I'll give your partner a once-over. Is that okay with you?" There was a soft, gentle chuckle.

Mike opened his eyes and, after a beat, nodded. He felt a final squeeze on his shoulder before Steve removed his arm and there was a shuffling of bodies in the front of them. The gentle hand was now on Steve's chin, the eyes beneath the bright headlamp carefully examining the swollen lip and eye.

"Yeah, you're gonna need a few stitches too, Inspector," the deep voice murmured. "It doesn't look like a punch. Did you get kicked?"

Steve's eyes shot to his left, knowing this was the kind of information that could set his partner off, and he was right. Mike, who had closed his eyes, remaining still as the other paramedic held a gauze pad against the laceration while he bandaged his head, started slightly and twitched as if starting to turn his head. "Don't move," came another no-nonsense voice and the older detective froze, setting his jaw.

"Am I gonna have to separate you two?" the lead paramedic chuckled gently. "You hurting anywhere else?" he asked, his attention returning to the younger detective.

Steve hesitated, and beside him he felt Mike stiffen, knowing his lack of an immediate response was more telling than anything he could have said. He watched Mike's right hand reach out blindly and find his leg, the fingers closing around his knee. With a catch at the back of his throat, he put his own hand over Mike's and squeezed.

Nodding slowly, Steve looked towards the headlamp light again. "I, ah, I got kicked in the chest and I fell hard against a doorframe. My ribs hurt." The fingers around his knee tightened and he squeezed his partner's hand again.

The headlamp bobbled. "Okay. Ah, you fellas think you walk outa here? It's gonna be a bitch to get a stretcher up here."

"I'm okay," Mike said after a beat, keeping his hand on Steve's knee, his head now bandaged.

After a beat, the younger man nodded. "Yeah, I'll be okay. I might need a hand getting up…" he tried to chuckle and was reward by a soft laugh from the paramedic.

"That's not a problem; both of you are gonna get a hand getting up, don't worry about it." As he got to his feet, the paramedic chuckled. "I'm Sam, by the way. My buddy's Andy."

Both cop's smiled slightly. "Mike."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I've seen you guys before… ah, not like this, of course, but, ah…" Both paramedics laughed. Sam started to get to his feet then stopped. "So, ah," his headlamp bobbled, like he was nodding in their direction, "was all this worth it? Did you catch a killer?"

Steve's eyes unfocused and his point of focus dropped; Mike looked sideways at the younger man. Steve eventually nodded. "Yeah," he said softly, "yeah… we did… we caught two of them…"

The headlamp bobbed slightly again and they knew Sam was smiling. "Good," he said softly as he stood.

There were so many flashlights in the room and the hallway now that seeing each other was getting a lot easier. Sam glanced behind him to find Healey and Haseejian standing near the doorway and he beckoned them closer. "You guys want to give us a hand?"

"You bet," Healey replied quickly, already stepping forward. "What do you need us to do?"

"We'll get these guys up and then downstairs and out to the ambulance. We're gonna take it real slow and easy, there's no rush." Sam looked at Healey. "You want to help my partner with the young fella? We'll give Mike a hand." He nodded at Haseejian, who nodded back.

Steve was easier to flank and he offered no resistance when Healey and Andy leaned down to put their hands under his elbows and help him to his feet; Mike watched with a worried frown. As they started towards the door, Healey lighting the way, it was obvious Steve was in pain.

Mike allowed himself to be helped up, taking a few seconds to make sure he had his balance and he wasn't dizzy, then shrugged off the hands on his elbows. "I'm okay, fellas. It's just my head."

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, well, I don't want you tumbling down the stairs; it doesn't look good on my record. So - for me - how 'bout I just hang on to you while we tackle the steps?"

Mike looked at him expressionlessly for a beat then smiled. He nodded carefully. "Yeah, I can live with that." He started towards the door slowly, taking in Haseejian with a warm and appreciative nod as he followed his slow-moving partner out of the office.

There were numerous officers milling about in the hallway and the other rooms, but Sykes and his sister were nowhere to be seen. During the hubbub of the past several minutes, they had obviously been removed from the scene.

The small procession finally made it down the flight of stairs to the still dark first floor and started through the storeroom towards the 'classroom'. Mike turned to Haseejian, who was walking protectively close beside him. "Ah, listen, Norm, I think it goes without saying that Steve and I are gonna be out of the line-up for awhile," he began, and the sergeant nodded with a soft, commiserating chuckle. "I, ah, I want you and Dan to take over this case, okay? Nail Sykes and his sister for the homeless murders."

"Yeah, sure, of course."

"Good. Ah, there's some stuff you'll need to know… some things we need to give you. And you gotta talk to the undercover guys, especially Watson and Kendall…"

Haseejian touched his arm softly. "Don't worry about it right now, Mike. We can figure all that out tomorrow."

Mike nodded carefully as he shuffled across the classroom with his guardians, glancing down as they skirted the pile of desk parts, stunned by how much things had changed in the past couple of hours.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"

He heard the worried exclamation from further ahead and looked up. Both Sam and Haseejian raised their flashlights and the beams caught the heart-stopping sight of Healey and the paramedic lowering the limp body of his partner to the floor.