The fall air turned crisper in the next few days. The Rescue Rangers, minus Dale, were concerned about the chipmunk's fragile health.

Gadget invented several high-powered heating devices which kept the group in misery until Dr. Fielding came by and nearly passed out from the indoor heat wave.

"Goodness!" He panted as Chip led him in the RR Headquarters. "It's the middle of Death Valley durin' a particularly nasty July in here! The idea is to help the lad recover, not kill him slowly using another method."

Gadget flushed or at least Chip thought she did, since her fair skin was already beet-red from the heat. "Golly! I'm sorry, it's just…we, we didn't have much of a Thanksgiving and the weather, well it turned cold so fast…"

She babbled on, not making much sense until Dr. Fielding held up a large paw. "It's all right miss, just more common sense from now on, okay?"

Chip caught Monty's eye and saw the large mouse shaking his head. As much as Chip adored the young inventor, he had to agree with his cheese-loving friend on this one.

"Now, where's the lucky patient?"

The large, field mouse seemed even more so, sitting next to a frail-looking Dale as he examined the chipmunk. It hurt Chip to see his friend like this, but at least Dale's personality was unchanged.

Dale's eyes, large in his thin face, still had that innocent yet mischievous look. Dr. Fielding placed his stethoscope on Dale's back and told him to breathe deeply.

Dale did so, coughing slightly and wincing.

Dr. Fielding than listened to Dale's chest, recorded his heartbeat and took his temperature. The doctor's expression remained neutral until he looked at Dale's temperature.

"What?" Chip asked anxiously a Dr. Fielding patted Dale on the shoulder.

"Well, his lungs still have some liquid in them but his breathing sounds much better. His temperature is a little higher than it should be but that might be due to the sauna-like environment in here."

Gadget ducked her head but Dale chuckled. "Knows how to keep a chill away, doesn't she, Doc?" Dale coughed a bit, still chuckling.

"Yes." Dr. Fielding said lightly. "Hmm, still, you were quite sick young fellow, dangerously so."

It got very quiet in the room. "I think we were wondering if you'd pull through, but you did, didn't you?" The large mouse said, his tone brightening. "You'll soon be back on your feet."

He said this in Chip's direction, who had taken his hat off and was twisting it tightly in his paws.

"When Doc?" Dale whined, "I'm bored to tears here!"

"When the time's right." Dr. Fielding said sternly. "Listen here, young 'munk, you are very lucky to be alive. Pneumonia is nothing to fool with, not to mention the fact that you'd been injured and had lost a dangerous amount of weight."

Dale looked away, embarrassed by his friends' somber expressions.

"Listen to 'im, pally. It's for yer own good, ya know."

"Please, Dale?" The chipmunk smiled at his two mouse friends and looked over at Chip.

Dale's brow crinkled in concern. Chip looked pale and nauseous. He also looked like he hadn't gotten enough rest the last few nights.

Dale wished he could remember if Chip had slept at all but he himself had been so exhausted he slept like a rock the past few nights.

Chip sighed deeply and put his fedora back on his head. "When can he get up, Doc?"

"Oh, give it two more days but watch that fever and le me know if there are any changes. Let's not take any unnecessary risks, shall we?" Dr. Fielding stood up and patted Dale's shoulder one more time.

"Take care, Mr. Oakmont." "Sure will, Doc." Dale answered quietly.

The large field mouse nodded to Chip and allowed Monty to lead him out. Gadget followed but her eyes stayed on Chip for a few moments before closing the door.

"Two more days! Aww, nuts, I'll go crazy before then!" Dale pounded his first into the mattress.

"You'll live." Chip said shortly, before a chill ran through him at his words. "But, if you get out of this bed before that I'll personally hang your hide out to dry, got it?"

Chip poked Dale lightly in the chest but his voice was serious. "Aye, aye shure-shuck!"

Dale grinned at his friend. "Uh, Chip?" "What?" Chip replied, grabbing some stray comic books off the floor. "Um, are you okay?"

Chip turned to look at his oldest friend. "Why?"

"Well," Dale fiddled uncomfortably with his covers. "You seem, er, sad, lately. Did something happen, while I was, outta, it? I'm not meddlin' ya know!" Dale held up his paws defensively, "it's just, you don't wanna get sick too."

"You dummy!" Chip fumed, throwing his fedora on the floor before he could stop himself. "What do you think happened! You almost died! So yeah, I guess I'm still a little bent out of shape over almost losing my best friend. I mean, gee, I have these nightmares where things don't work out, you're gone, the team's broken up, I can't, I…"

Chip's voice broke, "can't, for-g-give myself. Gadget leaves and-" Chip turned and banged a fist against the wall.

The room was completely silent after his outburst. Finally Chip turned to look at Dale. His friend had a confused expression on his face as if he didn't understand Chip's outburst.

"So, you're upset cause there haven't been any good cases lately?"

"You!" Chip moved to strangle Dale but stopped when he saw the other chipmunk's smirk. The tension in the room suddenly evaporated.

Chip picked up his hat and swatted Dale with it. "Nincompoop." He said, shaking his head. He pulled up his chair (or thimble, depending on how you looked at it) and plopped down next to his friend.

He'd done this for several evenings now, just sitting. The two old friends talked about anything and everything, though they'd avoided some of the really heady stuff. Dale didn't really understand why Chip just stuck around but it was kind of nice.

He'd be there when Dale dozed off and he'd still be there when Dale woke up. Either Chip or Gadget or Monty, even Zipper, but always someone. Dale never liked being alone, and in those days when he'd been so ill he couldn't remember his own name, he'd felt more alone than he'd ever had in his life.

Even in that freezing torture chamber of Fat Cat's, he hadn't felt so alone. He knew his friends were searching for him and would find him. He'd been afraid but he trusted the Rangers.

He'd withstood more than he thought he could. He thought of Chip, how Chip would be brave and resourceful and find some way to trick Fat Cat into messing up, or letting him go.

And if Dale couldn't be clever or resourceful (which he could, he just didn't realize it sometimes) then he could at least be courageous.

Gadget had told him he was, that word, the one that meant being brave, but she was sweetly biased. Her good heart saw only the positive in others.

He'd felt alone, lost in fever and pain in the days after, however. It was frightening, he knew how close he'd come and he didn't want to travel back there any time soon.

"Acorn for your thoughts." Chip said casually, pulling his fedora down over his eyes. "I'll be sure to come out on top." He smirked as Dale snorted at the joke.

"Yeah, yeah. So, what have the Rangers been working on lately, Chipper?"

Chip pushed his hat back and looked seriously at Dale. "Keeping the team whole. Throws everything off, when the team is broken up."

"Uh, even me? Chip, did you forget who you were talking to? Weren't you the one who called me the Restless Ranger?"

"Don't sell yourself short, Dale, of course we nee-"

"Reckless Ranger?"

"We'd miss you and-"

"Rookie Ranger?"

Chip stopped arguing and scowled at Dale, who was grinning. "Rescued Ranger?"

"All right, okay! I was wrong, all right! I'm sorry." Chip looked sideways at his friend. "But I have to admit, that last one was probably my best."

Chip lithely ducked an oncoming pillow. "Sheer genius, if I do say so myself." He ducked again. "Poetry, really."

This time, the pillow socked him in the gut but he went down laughing.

Gadget, carrying Dale's dinner in on a tray, put her ear against the door and listened to the two friends' laughing. It was a wonderful sound.