Author's Note: Thank you, dear readers, for your response to chapter 1! I hope you will continue to enjoy the read. Yes, as BluewindFarm says, I do tend to devise trouble for our boys. I love reading your reviews and your predictions! I'm so sorry I've been bad at responding — I was sick for a couple of weeks and the hubby just had surgery, so life has been rather chaotic. We're all well on the mend now, though.

Thank you to my cowriter, katbybee, for contributing Jo's and Mike's voices in this chapter. Thanks also to Piscean6724, for all your encouragement and for catching the mistakes I miss!

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Friday, 20 October 1972

"Roy, we need to find JoAnne." Dixie slid into the seat next to Roy's bedside. "Have you remembered anything?"

Whatever toxin Roy had inhaled on that call had really done a number on him. The doc said he'd had a massive reaction that had closed his throat and left him without oxygen. He had finally come off the ventilator last night. This morning, Dr. Brackett had repaired the tracheostomy. It felt good to be able to breathe for himself, and even better to be able to talk, though he wasn't sure what was coming out of his mouth at the moment qualified as talking.

The doc had told him not to be surprised by his Swiss cheese memory or his impaired speech and compromised motor skills. "You suffered anoxia, Roy." His cheek had twitched and then he'd sighed a little before explaining. Roy was grateful when he simplified. "I mean your oxygen was cut off completely. It can't have been for very long, but even a couple of minutes without oxygen can have serious consequences, including memory loss, motor dysfunction, and speech issues. Based on your progress so far, I am hopeful for a good recovery. But you have to give it time and you have to work for it."

Some of Roy's memories were coming back. He knew who Johnny was. He remembered the names of his other shift mates but still had trouble matching them to their faces, which made their visit earlier today awkward. He knew Dixie and Dr. Brackett, not so much because of restored memory as because they were constantly checking on him. Dixie had to remind him every so often that his wife's name was JoAnne. He remembered an argument with her but still couldn't think of where she'd gone.

"We… we f-f-fight. Mmmoney…" He had to stop and search his brain for the word he wanted. "Taut? Nnno… t-tight. And… uh… don' 'memmer… don' know where. She t-take…" Damn it… more names I can't find. "She t-take th' k-kids." He sighed heavily. "Don' think… she… come."

Dixie squeezed his hand. "Jo will come back, Roy. She loves you. Once her anger's had time to fade, she'll remember."

He clutched at the nurse, thankful for the steady reassurance she offered. "J-johnny… nnnews?"

"Nothing yet." She frowned. "Police are still searching. And plenty of off-duty firefighters from L.A. County are helping. But right now, we need to think about you, Roy. Does Jo have any family she might go to?"

Jo… yeah… his wife. Roy scrunched his eyes shut and pushed through the cobwebs in his brain in search of the name he needed to grasp. The effort was exhausting, but it paid off. Then it was even more exhausting trying to spit it out. "Eileen D-devereaux. Sssister. San Di… Di…"

"San Dimas?" Dixie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Roy shook his head. "Nnno. Ssan… Di —"

"Diego?"

Roy let out a relieved sigh and nodded. "Yeah. Um… husband… lawyer. Ran… nno… Ralph. Yeah, Ralph. D-don' know… phone."

Dixie brushed a hand across his forehead and smiled. "That's what the phone book is for. Dr. Brackett has a San Diego book in his office. If Jo isn't with Eileen, she's probably talked to her. You did great, Roy. Now, get some rest." Roy sank his head back against his pillows and closed his eyes.

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When the phone rang, JoAnne was sitting on her sister's couch, cuddling a sleepy Megan while Chris played with his cousins. She regretted storming out on Roy, but she was enjoying the visit with Eileen. It had been a lovely escape — she hadn't bothered to watch the news or read the paper. And she hadn't called home. She would go back in a few days. If Roy wanted to make things up sooner, he could jolly well give her a call.

Eileen answered after the second ring. It was a matter of principle with her never to pick it up after just one, a habit that sometimes drove JoAnne nuts. "JoAnne? Yes, she's here."

When Jo heard her name mentioned, relief swept through her. It had to be Roy. But then Eileen wouldn't have been cordial with him right now. She was as angry as Jo had been, and she would have no qualms about letting him have it. "Sure. Let me hand her the phone. One minute please." Eileen stretched the phone cord to the end of the sofa so Jo wouldn't have to disturb her sleeping daughter.

"Hello?" Jo wasn't sure what to do with the mounting concern that had was rising up from her gut.

"JoAnne?" The voice on the other end was familiar. A voice that wouldn't be calling unless something was wrong. "Jo, this is Dixie McCall. I'm so glad I've found you."

Jo was confused. "Found me? But Roy knows I'm here with Ei —" Sudden dread hit her like a brick. "How bad is it, Dixie? What happened?"

On the other end of the line, Dixie sighed. "Oh, Jo. I'm sorry. I've just been so shaken up by this whole thing. Roy was exposed to an unknown toxin on a call. He's been at Rampart since Tuesday. The toxin caused his throat to swell shut and left him unable to breathe. He has some memory loss among other complications. He only just remembered Eileen's name about half an hour ago. I found her number in the phone book."

Jo handed Megan off to her sister. "I'm on my way home. I'll be there as soon as I can. Tell him I'll be there."

"I've told him," Dixie assured her. "He wasn't sure you would come. All he remembers is that you fought, but I told him I knew how much you loved him. Have a safe drive, JoAnne."

Jo nodded. Her vision was starting to blur, but she couldn't break down now. There would be time to cry later. She blinked back the tears. "I will, Dixie. And tell Johnny to take care of Roy till I get there."

"I wish I could, Jo." Dixie's tone was soft, subdued, ominous.

Jo had been ready to throw down the handset and hurry out, but she had to know about Roy's partner and best friend. "Tell me, Dixie."

"Johnny is missing. The police and half the fire department are searching for him."

"Missing?" Jo could swear her heart had skipped a beat. Her husband was alive and she was grateful, but Johnny had become family, a brother to them both. The thought of losing him hit hard. "What kind of call were they on? Never mind. Fill me in when I get there. I can't do any good here."

"All right, JoAnne. We'll see you soon."

Two hours later, JoAnne stepped through the doors into Rampart's ER. Dixie met her and pulled her into a quick hug. "We can talk on the way up to ICU. You need to be aware that Roy's memory still has a lot of holes. He knows your name about half the time now, but don't be surprised if he can't connect it with your face right away."

Jo nodded tensely, hopeful her guy wouldn't forget her permanently. She had left Chris and Megan with Eileen for the time being, feeling it would be easier for all concerned to keep the children out of the middle of the trauma. Did he remember them?

"Sometimes he needs time to find the words he wants to say," Dixie continued. JoAnne's head was spinning, but she made the effort to focus and absorb what the nurse was saying. "He's trying very hard, Jo. He wants to get better and get looking for Johnny." She shook her head sadly. "It could be a while before he's up to it, though. The anoxia has caused some motor issues, and you'll notice his speech has been affected. Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early are hopeful that it's temporary, but he will need therapy to get back to his old self. He only came off the ventilator last night. We didn't realize how extensive his memory loss was until he could talk to us. We've been trying to reach you, but didn't have a number until he remembered Eileen's name."

Jo's lips narrowed in determination. Her knees felt like jelly, but she had to stay strong. She had to help Roy through this. "He'll make it back, Dixie. It may take time, but he'll make it back."

They stepped off the elevator and headed down the hall, Dixie in the lead. She stopped three doors down. Jo watched from the hallway while Dixie stepped into Roy's room to prepare him for her arrival.

"Roy, I know you asked for no more visitors." Dixie fluffed up Roy's pillows and raised his bed so that he was sitting up. "But I thought you would like this one." She turned her head toward the door.

Roy looked past the nurse and right into Jo's eyes. "I… I know you," he said slowly, and then he sang, slightly off-key, the line, "Love is a many splendored thing." Their song. All of a sudden Jo was fighting tears again.

He stared at her for a long moment, then recited, "You're my wife, the love of my life." Lines from a cheesy verse he'd written in a card last Mother's Day. "T-tell me your n-n-name. Was there… s-second ago… now it's…" He twirled a finger in the air.

"It's okay," JoAnne finished for him, forcing a bright smile. She refused to let him see how broken up she was inside. They'd been through worse, hadn't they? "My name is JoAnne, but you usually call me Jo." She came over to the bed and sat on the edge and took his hand.

"Yeah, Jo." He groaned as he wrapped his fingers around her hand. He pulled it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "So ssorry, honey. Don' remember what I did… musta been… real j-j-jerk."

"Look, I'd say forget it, but you already have… and so have I." She smiled and bent to kiss his forehead. "Just concentrate on getting better and getting out of here. Everything else will sort itself out."

"Jo-johnny missin'." Roy clung to his wife's hand as if it were a lifeline. "G-g-gotta rememmer. Fin' him."

"I know, darling. I know. We'll find him. You need to rest right now. I'm here for you. Just rest."

He nodded. His eyelids were already sinking shut, but he didn't let go of her until he was fully asleep.

Jo leaned forward and brushed the hair from his forehead. She kissed him gently. "Oh, dear Roy, what did the two of you get yourselves into?" she whispered.

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Sunday, 22 November 1972

A loud buzzing dragged him out of sleep. Some instinct had him wanting to lunge over the side of the cot, looking for… he wasn't sure what… but he still couldn't move. His eyes flew open, but a blinding light stabbed at him like a thousand sharp needles. He was so thirsty. Seemed like he was always thirsty. Instinctively, he turned toward his tube and filled his mouth with the sweet, refreshing liquid. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, but the liquid from the tube was strangely filling. It warmed him all the way through, a pleasant sensation that left his fingers and toes tingling. He wanted more.

Even with his eyes shut tight, the brightness seemed to burn through his eyelids. A woman's voice filled the air around him. He wasn't sure when it had started, but it seemed familiar, like something that had been seeping into his dreams. It drifted down from somewhere above him, a warm voice, alluring. It called to him and wrapped around him and seeped into his brain, pushing everything else out. "Number 27, you are a man. You are evil. Through obedience you will redeem yourself. Hera has chosen you to father a new generation. Be thankful for this blessing."

The words repeated over and over, searing themselves in his subconscious. There were other words too, a list of rules that he must obey. Should he break any one of them, the voice promised, the consequences would be dire. He wanted to resist the words, to push the rules out of his mind, but it all just kept repeating over and over and there was no way to turn it off or tune it out.

He forced his eyes open again and looked around. A shade covered the window now, and he couldn't see whether it was night or day outside. Hanging above him from the ceiling of his cell was something new. A long mirror, situated so that he could see himself stretched out on his cot. He recognized that it was a reflection, but his own face didn't look familiar. His dark hair was shaggy, and he had a light beard. He was dressed in a pair of baggy pants and some kind of tunic with a black sash tied around his waist. His feet were bare. He was secured to the bed by sturdy cords threaded through silver bracelets on his wrists and ankles. Around his neck, he wore a slender collar. Thirst called, and he took another mouthful of liquid from the tube. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to look at the reflection any more.

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Friday, 27 October 1972

Ariadne watched the men of 51's as they came to visit their friend Roy. She was mildly surprised that he had survived. Apparently, he'd suffered a severe allergic reaction to Hera's Dust. She was also surprised Hera had left him there alive. She didn't usually do that. Maybe Johnny had caused trouble and she had hurried away with him, figuring Roy wouldn't last long enough to be rescued.

Ariadne was determined to find a replacement for Johnny. Chet Kelly and Marco Lopez were available, but she wasn't interested in either of them. Her newest choice was off limits, she knew that, but she was determined to find a way around it. Mike was a quiet man, handsome, sweet. She'd gone to him in tears right after Johnny was taken and he had been kind and compassionate. He never looked at her the way Chet did, like a hungry vulture. She'd had enough of vultures in her lifetime, that was for sure. Some of the nurses thought Johnny was a vulture, but Ariadne had known better. She almost thought she could have fallen in love with him, but now he was beyond her reach.

She trotted over to Mike now, ignoring Chet's hungry eyes. One of Hera's daughters would never let herself be devoured. If anyone did the devouring, it would be her. "Mike?" She willed her eyes to produce tears, then blinked them back as she looked mournfully up at him. "Is there any news?"

Mike shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ariadne, we haven't heard anything. I know this is hard. It's hard for all of us." He put a friendly arm around her shoulders, giving her a side-hug.

She turned toward him and burst into tears, then buried her face against his chest and wept, hopeful that he would wrap his other arm around her.

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Mike wasn't normally in the habit of hugging any woman that wasn't Beth. Hell, he barely talked to other women beyond what his profession demanded. But there was a vulnerability about Ariadne that reminded him of his kid sister. He instinctively pulled her into a gentle but chaste hug and let her cry. He hoped it would make her feel better. He also ignored the eye-waggles he was getting from Chet. He was just being kind to a fellow hurting human being. Nothing more.

Finally, Ariadne sniffled. "Thank you," she said weakly as she stepped out of his embrace. She wiped a sleeve across her eyes. "I… uh… I'd better get back to work." With that, she hurried away.

"Mikey's got a girlfriend," Chet sing-songed, his eyes sparking with humor that they had lacked ever since this whole nightmare started. "Wonder what Beth would think!"

Mike just shook his head and sighed. "Grow up, Chet."

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Monday, 30 October 1972

Hank had wrangled permission from the LAPD to make another search through the old parsonage in hopes of finding some clue to where Johnny had been taken. He and Mike were spending their day off in that endeavor while Marco and Chet joined a search party combing through the Griffith Park wilderness after someone called the hotline with a tip. Those tips were a dime a dozen, though, and so far every single one had been a dud. Still, they had to check them all out. Except maybe the one that claimed aliens had carried John off in a silver spaceship shaped like a cream puff.

Police were pretty sure at this point that Johnny had been abducted. It was the only explanation that made sense. But people didn't just vanish without a trace. Police said the house was clean, with no evidence of foul play beyond the condition in which Roy had been found, but there had to be something here to point them in the right direction.

Hank shook his head as they stood together in the front room. "I don't know what to make of it, Mike. The cops didn't even find fingerprints."

Mike's lips narrowed. "There has to be something here somewhere, Cap. Johnny was in this house. Roy is proof of that. He never came out on his own, so he was taken — I bet by the person in that station wagon. He can't have left no trace at all. We need to search the places we haven't searched."

"Yeah. But they say they've been over every inch." Hank rubbed at the back of his aching neck. The last several days had been exhausting. "Let's just stick together. I don't need you disappearing next."

"You know," Mike observed, "these old houses are full of closets and crawl spaces. We should see if the cops missed any."

"Good thinking." Hank clapped Mike on the back. "Let's get to it, pal."

Most of the crawl spaces had already been searched and marked with a chalk X, but Hank and Mike found a few. The one under a window seat in the front room and the one hidden in the back of the coat closet yielded nothing. Then Hank came across another unmarked crawl space at the top of the stairs, in an easily overlooked corner. "Mike, look here."

Mike pried the door open and shinnied inside. A couple minutes later, he emerged. Hank had expected to see dust and cobwebs in his hair, but he came out clean, holding a wooden box in his hands, about the size of a jewelry box. His eyes met Hank's, and Hank knew that neither of them would like what that box held. Mike handed his find over.

Hank sucked in a deep breath as he brushed a hand over the box's lid. An odd pattern was carved around the edges of it. Finally, he opened it. Inside, he found a parchment like the one that had been attached to Garret Lloyd's coffin. He didn't take time to read it because when he lifted it up, he saw a L.A. County Fire Department badge and Johnny's name tag lying side by side. A strip of black electrical tape was stretched across the face of the badge. Hands trembling, Hank dropped the box and shook his head. He looked up at Mike. "Tell me this doesn't mean what I think it means."

Mike went pale as he picked up the parchment with trembling fingers. He read it out loud. The letters were scrawled in the same red calligraphy as the note they had found in the church basement, but this time there was no attempt at rhyme. "Farewell John Gage, lost to this world. Hera has claimed you." He shoved the parchment into Hank's hands, then doubled over and threw up.

Hank couldn't blame him. What with the stress of the past few days and now this discovery, he felt his stomach roiling too. It wasn't long before he lost his own lunch.

When they were done, Hank placed the parchment in the box and closed it up. They would call Malloy and Reed and turn this evidence over to them. Maybe it held the clue they needed to point them in the right direction.