Author's note: Thank you, readers, for your support. I love seeing all the reviews. I apologize to anyone I have not yet responded to — I try to answer everyone, but I've fallen behind. Marbo, I'm not sorry about Eddie either, though, like Shawna, I would have had trouble actually pulling the trigger. I did allude to Jo's pregnancy in chapters one and three, though I didn't directly say she was pregnant. Turns out this is not the last chapter — there will be one, maybe two more.

Piscean6724, thank you helping me work through my ideas for this chapter and for lending your expertise! You were a huge help! Katbybee, you also helped me with ideas, but best of all, you helped me stave off the monster of self-doubt — I'm sure it will pop up again, but it didn't get me this time! Thank you!

WARNING: Part of this chapter involves a suicide attempt. The attempt itself is not detailed, but the lead-up and the aftermath are. I recognize that this might trouble some readers, so thought I should mention it here.

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Fire raged around him. A long dark shadow flitted among the flames, at first slithering along the ground on its belly, then rising up to wrap its spindly shadow fingers around his legs. The fingers had no substance, and yet they squeezed so tight his legs turned to wood and then began to burn. Under the roar of the flames, he heard a child's cry. He looked around, desperate to find her, to save her, but he couldn't move, couldn't free himself from the shadow. He opened his mouth to yell, but the heat of the fire seared his throat, and he could make no sound. The child continued crying and he could do nothing for her.

Johnny awoke with a start, his arms flailing, and yet part of him felt as if it were still stuck in the dream, in the grip of the shadow creature. Something was covering his face and he had to get it away or he would suffocate. He tried peeling it off, but a hand stopped him, and a soft soothing voice murmured to him.

His eyes had been darting around the room, unable to focus on anything, but finally they latched onto the face that went with the voice. A familiar face, even if he couldn't quite put a name to it at the moment. His sluggish brain was still trying to process the words she had spoken and wasn't up to searching his memory as well.

She brushed something cool and wet across his brow and he grabbed at her hand and held it tight until exhaustion crept over him and drew him back into the dream.

The fire was gone. He sat alone in the midst of a smoky landscape, watching his charred legs crumble into ash and drift away in the wind. The child was still crying, but he couldn't see her, and he couldn't tell where her voice was coming from. Sometimes it seemed to be in front of him, sometimes behind, and sometimes it echoed all around. Using his clenched fists in place of feet, he propelled himself forward, then turned in a circle, trying to find her. If he couldn't help her, she would be lost forever and he would be to blame. The shadow danced around him, its lithe form taunting. He recognized it now, Nalusa Falaya, the Long Dark Being, haunter of his childhood dreams. This had to be a dream, then — there had to be a way out. Suddenly he found himself underwater, the shadow pulling him down into the deep while he strove against it, struggling toward the rays of sunlight that filtered down through the waves. At last, with one powerful thrust of his arms, he burst free and rushed upwards into the light. With a whoosh, he broke through the surface of the water…

Only to find himself in the glaring light of a hospital room, machines beeping around him, and Dixie hovering over him, sponging his forehead with a cool damp cloth. "Welcome back, Tiger." She grabbed his hand before he could tug at the tube that was in his throat. "Leave it alone," she said firmly. "You're not really thinking straight yet, so just trust me. Dr. Early will come soon and take it out for you."

Johnny nodded, then tugged at Dixie's sleeve. He had one pressing question he needed to ask. With his hand, he made a scribbling motion. Dixie, bless her, understood him. She brought him a pen and then held a pad of paper on a clipboard so he could write on it. In big letters, he scrawled a single word: MEGAN?

Dixie smiled and kissed his forehead. "She's safe, Johnny. She's home with her Mama. I'm sure Roy will be in to see you soon."

Johnny relaxed against his pillow, blinking back tears of relief. He wasn't sure why fear for Megan DeSoto had been at the forefront of his thoughts when he woke up, but he could figure that out later. For now, the fact that she was safe was all he needed to know.

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Shawna rubbed the tears from her cheeks with a balled-up fist. She hated crying, especially when she was stuck here in this hospital bed and the nurses and doctors could come in any time and see her. Oh, it was one thing to cry in front of Eddie when she needed to manipulate him, but those tears were fake. They didn't mean anything. These tears were real.

She'd been moved from ICU to the jail ward two days ago, but so far no one had come to question her. She couldn't have answered anyway. Dr. Brackett had ordered her not to speak — not even whisper — while her throat healed. She could write, though. When she first moved to this room, Nurse Dixie had brought her a pad of lined paper and some pens. She also brought a cheerful arrangement of sunflowers and baby's breath. "The bouquet is from Roy and JoAnne DeSoto," the nurse had explained as she took a seat beside the bed. "They'd like to visit you, but haven't been allowed to yet, so they asked me to bring the flowers and their thanks."

Shawna had just stared, unable to absorb the fact that these total strangers were treating her with such kindness. She remembered helping Megan at the end, but that was just one day — surely it wasn't enough to cancel out all the things she'd done wrong.

Her bewilderment must have been evident because Dixie had smiled down at her with warm eyes. "Their little girl is alive and at home thanks to you. And John Gage and the rest of the crew at Station 51 are alive too. That makes you pretty special, Miss Taylor."

In the days since, almost every available surface in the small hospital room had been taken up with flowers and cards. Every time another one was delivered, Shawna felt the tears gathering again. She didn't deserve this.

She picked up the TV remote and clicked the button to turn off the soap opera that was playing, then pulled the swivel table in front of her. Picking up a ballpoint pen, she began to write.

I'm so sorry. I was such an idiot to listen to Eddie or believe anything he said. When he came back to Portland and asked to move in with me, I couldn't say no. I never could tell him no. Ever since high school he could always get me to go along with his stupid plans and he was so upset about Orville dying and I just wanted to make him feel better. He promised he still loved me. He said he needed me. No one else ever made me feel needed the way he did. Then he wanted me to steal the meds. At first I didn't want to, but he said If I loved him, I would do it. So I stole the meds and I ran away with him and I helped him kidnap Gage. I pretended I was lost in the woods and hurt my ankle and Gage stopped to help me and that's when Eddie grabbed him. I didn't know what he was planning then and I didn't like it when I found out, especially when he took the kid too, but he threatened me and so I went along with him. I wanted him to keep loving me. I never thought he would really try to kill anyone. At first I just did what I had to do to keep him from being angry and I didn't care about the kid or the fireman. The idea of getting rich from the bank robberies was kind of exciting. But then it got to me how Gage tried to protect the kid even when he was out of his mind with the drugs I shot into him and finally I started caring too. That last day when the kid got sick I knew it was a chance to help her if I could just get Eddie to leave her with me. I messed with the bomb vest so it wouldn't blow and I put the note in Gage's pocket and I did what I could to make sure the kid was safe. Then Eddie came back and I don't remember anything after that until I woke up here. But Nurse Dixie said he's gone and I don't have to worry about him anymore so I guess I really did kill him. I killed the only person who ever really loved me. And now everyone is being nice to me, especially Nurse Dixie, and I just don't get it. I don't deserve it.

A tear dripped onto the paper and Shawna lay the pen down to wipe at her eyes again. Damn emotions. Picking up the pen once more, she wrote two final sentences.

Tell my parents I'm sorry and I love them. I wish I had listened.

Shawna Taylor

She folded the paper in half, then closed her eyes for a moment, psyching herself up to carry out her plan.

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Roy stood pacing the hallway, wrestling with his emotions while he waited for Joe Early to finish talking with Johnny. He should be in there, he knew, supporting Johnny while Early explained that his paralysis could possibly be permanent. No one should get news like that without family at their side. But Roy hadn't been able to bring himself to go in. He was worried for his best friend, but he was also furious. Megan didn't have many conscious memories of her ordeal, but she did remember that snuggling up to Johnny made her feel safe. For that, Roy was grateful. What made him angry was what she said happened at the zoo. "The mean man said Uncle Johnny needed me. He knew our secret word, an' so I went with him."

The secret word. It was a code Roy and Jo had with their kids, in hopes of preventing a scenario like this. They had trusted Johnny with that word, and Johnny had broken their trust by giving it to Eddie Guinness. Roy knew he'd been shot full of drugs and probably couldn't stop himself from saying whatever Guinness wanted to know, but that didn't make it any easier to stomach. How could Johnny have let his guard down and gotten himself into that situation in the first place, anyway? He could've saved everyone a lot of grief if he'd just stayed home instead of going on that fool camping trip.

JoAnne, of course, had told Roy he needed to let it go, to be grateful that Johnny and Megan were back and the man who had taken them could never hurt anyone else again. "Johnny didn't choose this, Roy. And from everything we've been told so far, he was thinking of Megan before anything. Johnny has had your back from day one… and not just yours, but mine and the kids', not to mention the rest of A-Shift. Now it's our turn. Johnny needs us, Roy." Then she'd pointed her index finger at him and poked him lightly in the chest. "And he especially needs you."

When Roy just grunted in response, Jo had fixed him with what he secretly called the "Frazier Freezer," that cold glare that always reminded him of his mother-in-law. "You tell me this, Royal Christopher DeSoto… if it was you instead of Johnny, would you have been able to do any better? He's going to be hard enough on himself once that poison is out of his system. He doesn't need you making it worse." She was right. Roy knew it, even if he didn't want to admit it. And so here he was, pacing the floor and trying to work up the nerve to go in and face Johnny.

The door creaked open and Dr. Early stepped into the hall. Roy stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "How'd he take it?" he asked, remorse twisting his stomach.

"Well…" Dr. Early glanced downward, rubbed at his chin, then directed his gaze at Roy. "He sure could use a friend right now. I told him you would be here soon." He stepped aside and gestured towards the door. "Remember, though… he shouldn't try to talk. Not a word."

"Uh… thanks, Doc." Roy sucked in a deep breath, then stood up straight, let out the breath in a huff, and strode past Early into Johnny's room. He stopped for a moment in the doorway. He'd seen Johnny's bleached hair back at the station, but the shock of it still threw him for a loop. Johnny sure wasn't going to like that. Roy wondered if anyone had let him look in a mirror yet. Beneath the bleached hair, his face looked gaunt. Roy wondered how long it had been since Johnny had eaten real food — with the sores in his mouth, eating would have been difficult. For now, he was getting his nutrition through a nasogastric tube. At least he was breathing on his own.

Johnny didn't seem to notice Roy come in. He just lay there, eyes fixed on the wall, not even turning his head when Roy cleared his throat. "Hey, Johnny…" Roy flicked his gaze to the floor. "I'm… uh… sorry I wasn't here earlier. I should've been." He pulled a chair over to the bedside and folded himself into it. He noted the clipboard, paper, and pen on Johnny's table. On the top sheet of paper, in Johnny's distinctive scrawl, it said, "Megan?" Roy swallowed hard. Johnny must have been asking about her. Jo was right. After everything that had happened, his first thought was not for himself, but for a little girl he would willingly trade his life for. Roy needed to let it go. He reached over to put a hand on Johnny's clenched fist. "Hey, Junior. Before I say anything else, I need to thank you. You looked after my little girl the best you could. She says you made her feel safe. That means the world to me and Jo, Pally."

Finally, Johnny turned his head and met Roy's eyes. When he opened his mouth, Roy held up a hand. "Nope. Don't try to talk, Junior. Dr. Early said not a word."

Johnny rolled his eyes, but he closed his mouth and reached for his pen. Roy leaned close to and watched him write — he was gripping the pen tighter than usual, and the tremors in his hand made his letters come out shaky. But what Roy's eyes fastened on most was the red marks around Johnny's wrist. His mind flashed back to the cabin and the shackles he'd seen chained to the bed. He forced his eyes away from the marks and looked at Johnny's words instead. I'm sorry. Don't remember much. But I know I told — about Megan and the zoo and the word and…

Roy reached out a hand to stop Johnny right there. "You couldn't help it, Junior. He drugged you." He took in another deep breath. "Look, it wasn't your fault. It was Eddie Guinness' fault, and he's gone now. Listen, can we talk about what Dr. Early told you?"

Johnny shook his head, then wrote on the paper. Don't want to. He underlined it, then added, Not today. Maybe tomorrow.

Roy raised his hands. "OK, fine. When you're ready."

Thanks. Johnny pushed the clipboard and pen away, then handed Roy the TV remote and pointed to the TV.

Roy turned on the television and clicked through the channels until he found the day's big baseball game — Dodgers vs. the Mets. He glanced at Johnny, who gave a nod of approval, then set the remote down and settled back in his chair. Together, the friends watched the crowd go wild when Davey Lopes stole his thirty-second consecutive base without being caught.

Johnny fell asleep before the game ended, with a 2-0 win for the Dodgers, but Roy watched till the end. Before he left, he scribbled a note on Johnny's notepad. See you tomorrow, Junior. You're going to get through this, and you won't have to do it alone. When he walked out the door, his heart felt a lot lighter than it had when he walked in.

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Dixie was bringing another bouquet of flowers for Shawna Taylor. Her parents had sent them. The couple had been traveling, and it had taken a couple of days to find them and let them know about their daughter. Now they were arriving on a flight tomorrow morning and Dixie hoped this news would bring a smile to Shawna's eyes. She had not been allowed any visitors yet, but surely her family would be able to see her.

The call went out over the loudspeaker as Dixie stepped off the elevator onto the secure floor. "Dr. Brackett, Room 428. Stat." Shawna's room. Dixie quickened her pace, reminding herself of the warning she'd given to so many student nurses over the years — "We do not run in these halls. Ever." Well, her brisk trot was not exactly a run, but it propelled her quickly down the hall, around the corner, and three doors down, to reach Room 428 just a moment before Kel came from the opposite direction. Inside, Nurse Carol Williams stood by Shawna's bed, elevating her free arm. She had improvised a tourniquet with a blood pressure cuff and was pressing layers of gauze to the inside of Shawna's forearm. Bright red blood stained the bandages and the bedsheets. Her face pale and sweaty, Shawna lay unconscious and still on her bed.

Dixie moved to the bedside, taking Carol's place. "Well done, Carol," she said softly. She was partial to the young nurse, who was not only highly competent, but had shown herself able to keep a cool head in the midst of a crisis. "Tell me what happened."

"I came in to take her vitals right after she did this," Carol reported. "She was still conscious then, but I could tell she hit the radial artery. She resisted at first, but then she passed out and I was able to get the tourniquet on."

"Good work," Kel said. He was inspecting the wound now. "She knew just where to make the cut. Dix, IV, Lactated Ringers, then get Liam Kennedy in here to take a look — she may need vascular surgery. Carol, draw blood for CBC, BMP, and a tox screen. It's doubtful she managed to ingest anything, but we need to make sure. Check her blood type on her chart and set up for a transfusion. And then you'd better call over to the psych ward to see if they have a bed."

"It's a damn shame," Dixie murmured as she prepared the IV. "How did she manage to do this anyway?"

Carol nodded her chin toward an object on the bed — a broken ballpoint pen with a jagged edge, and Dixie's heart sank. "I gave her that," she murmured. "So she could communicate."

"It's not your fault, Dix." Kel's steady blue eyes met Dixie's for just a second. "You couldn't have known."

Unconvinced, she gave him a brisk nod. "Thanks, Kel," she whispered. "I'll go page Dr. Kennedy now."

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Later that afternoon, Kelly Brackett found Dixie alone in the Emergency Department nurses' lounge. She had returned to assist Kel after putting in the page for Kennedy, but she had been unusually quiet and had drifted away once her presence was no longer needed. Kel knew that the suicide attempt had hit his favorite nurse hard. She was sitting on the couch now, her gaze distant as she folded and unfolded a sheet of paper.

Kel settled himself beside her and lay a hand on her back. "Hey, Dix."

"Hey." Her voice sounded thin and stretched out. Dixie was usually good at not letting the stresses of the job get to her, but over the last few days, Shawna Taylor had secured a place in her heart. With some patients, it was just too easy to forget Rule Number One.

"Dix, Liam says Shawna should be all right. Physically, at least. They found a bed for her in Psych, and they'll be keeping her under a careful watch."

"I should have seen it coming." Dixie sighed heavily, then handed him the folded page. "I found that in the room. You should probably pass it on to Crockett."

Kel unfolded the note and read Shawna's words, then laid the paper down on the coffee table. "She made a choice, Dix. A bad choice. That doesn't mean you should have realized what she was going to do."

"What choice, Kel?" Dixie's volume rose as she vented her anger and frustration. "She thought she was making a choice, but it sounds like he was pulling the strings. He made her feel needed and loved. Yes, she agreed to go with him, but she was no more free to walk away than Johnny or Megan was. And now she's eaten up with guilt because she thinks she killed him."

Kel grimaced. "She doesn't know the coroner said the angle of the wound indicated that he shot himself?"

"I didn't know that when I told her Guinness was dead." Dixie drummed her fingers on her thigh. "And then I never talked to her about him again. Crockett didn't want us discussing the case with her, and I was trying to lift her spirits."

Kel laid his arm across her shoulders and pulled her close for a quick hug. "Listen, Dix, she's a deeply troubled young lady. You were doing the best you could, just like you always do. She's going to get the help she needs now. I made sure she was assigned to Dr. Reed. He's one of the best."

She nodded absently, and he eased his arm free of her shoulder, then turned and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "Listen, you and I both missed lunch. What do you say we sneak out and have a bite to eat? Joe and Mike and Betty can take care of things while we're gone." He was pleased to see that he coaxed a slight smile from her and that her eyes had regained some of their usual spark.

"I thought you were indispensable around here, Kel."

"Who me?" He laughed. "No way. You are… but I think they can get along for a couple of hours without you. Now, grab your purse and let's go. Doctor's orders."