Saint John opened his eyes and groaned at the bright hospital light. He hurriedly closed them again.

'Hey, you're awake.' Hawke threw down the magazine he had been leafing through and leaned forward in the uncomfortable plastic chair he had been waiting in.

'What happened?' Saint John asked rubbing a hand over his face as his foggy mind tried to piece together why he was in hospital.

'You got shot.' Hawke told him succinctly.

'Yeah,' Saint John gave a short laugh, 'I figured that much.'

'You were distracting Bridges from Nicky.' Hawke's throat closed abruptly as the image of his brother running recklessly across the Lair came flooding back to him.

Saint John lowered his hand and his hazel eyes caught his brother's blue ones firmly. 'He's worth it.'

Hawke reached out a hand and Saint John grasped it tightly.

'Thanks.' Hawke said gruffly.

Saint John glanced down at their joint hands and squeezed Hawke's. 'What are brothers for, huh?'

Hawke managed a small smile. 'I know you charged Bridges for Nicky – for which I'm incredibly grateful but you know I've just gotten you back. I'd like you to hang around a while longer.'

Saint John felt his chest tighten with emotion. 'Don't worry.' He murmured. 'I don't intend doing anything so foolish ever again unless it is absolute necessary.'

'Good.' Hawke rubbed his thumb over Saint John's callused knuckles.

'So what's the damage?' Saint John asked wincing.

'Flesh wound to the shoulder. The bullet didn't go in too deep so you should mend pretty fast.' Hawke gestured with his free hand at Saint John's head. 'And you've got a mild concussion.'

'Where's everyone else?' Saint John asked.

'Caitlin took Nicky home. He was beginning to get cranky.' Hawke said. 'Too much excitement.'

'Jo? Mike?' Saint asked as he shifted position in the bed a little.

'They're both with Locke.'

'How is he?' Saint John asked.

'Bad.' Hawke didn't sugar-coat it. 'He's down the hall.'

Saint John grimaced and made to sit up. Hawke moved to help him.

'Give me a hand, huh?' Saint John said. 'I just want to go check on him.'

Hawke sighed but he did what Saint John asked. There was a brief argument about whether to use the wheelchair which Hawke won by simply removing his hand from under Saint John's elbow when the other man tried to stand. Hawke pushed his self-conscious brother down the corridor.

'Why'd they have to make hospital gowns so…?'

'Breezy?' suggested Hawke.

Saint John tugged at the gown in question. Hawke hid a smile and pushed the door to Locke's room open and wheeled Saint John in.

Mike and Jo immediately stood up from their chairs and hurried over to welcome their team-mate.

'Saint John.' Jo leaned down and hugged him.

'Easy.' Saint John said not minding the hug at all. 'I need oxygen.'

Jo eased back and pulled a face at him.

Mike grinned at his friend. 'Thought we might have lost you there for a minute.'

'Yeah,' Saint John reached out a hand which the other man clasped warmly for a moment before letting go. 'Wasn't the plan for you to get shot this time?'

'Hey, I got shot last time.' Mike joked.

'Are you sure it was the last time because I'm sure it was your turn.' Saint John retorted.

'Hey.' Locke's cracked voice had all of them turning to the bed where the African-American agent looked back at them with amusement shining from his dark eyes. 'Some of us are trying to rest over here.'

'Jason.' Jo and Mike abandoned Saint John to move to Locke's side and Hawke pushed Saint John further in the room so he could sit by the bed.

He put a hand on his brother's uninjured shoulder. 'I'll head out, Saint John. Leave you guys to it.'

'Don't leave on my account.' Locke said his eyes flickering to the younger Hawke brother.

Hawke shrugged easily. 'I have to get home to my wife.' He patted Saint John's shoulder. 'We'll bring Nicky by for a visit tomorrow.'

Saint John nodded. He reached up and grabbed his brother's hand again. 'Thanks, String.'

Hawke smiled back at him. 'Any time.' He squeezed his brother's hand and released him.

'You two seem good.' Jo noted after the younger Hawke brother had left.

Saint John waved a hand in a vague gesture not wanting to discuss it. 'So anyone want to fill me in on what happened after I left the Lair?'

Mike shrugged. 'Hawke and Caitlin followed after you guys. Archangel sent a clean-up crew to the Lair with Marella.'

'That was after he got me out.' Locke murmured. He gestured at the glass of water on the bedside table and Jo handed it to him.

'Archangel got you out?' Saint John repeated.

'From what I got out of Marella,' Mike said perching on the end of Locke's bed, 'she and Archangel raided the factory where they were keeping Locke and apparently a nuclear bomb. They coordinated the attack with Hawke and Caitlin's move at the Lair so neither hostile team could alert the other to counter-attack.'

'Clever.' Saint John sighed.

'Hawke's plan.' Jo commented.

Saint John smiled proudly. 'He always was the best strategist in the business.'

'Well, I guess we have to find a new Lair.' Jo said with a sigh crossing her arms.

'Not necessarily.' Mike said. 'All the individuals involved in the raid were captured or killed.'

'Not all.' Locke contradicted him. 'There was someone calling the shots. They're still at large.'

Mike frowned. 'So new Lair then.'

'No.' Locke shook his head tiredly. 'We'll beef up security; leave it where it is.'

'Is that wise?' Saint John asked.

'A new location would be easier for people to find and it's likely that whoever's involved will think we'll have moved her.' Locke took a sip of water. 'We can spread a rumour that we have. It should cover the bases.' He shook his head. 'You know I could have sworn I heard Airwolf over the factory.'

'You were drugged pretty heavily, Jason.' Jo commented. She sighed. 'I'm just glad we're all in one-piece. That was a close call.'

'Too close.' Locke said his eyes landing on Saint John.

'We made it.' Saint John said quietly.

The four friends smiled at each other and before the atmosphere got too sentimental, Mike changed the subject and within moments the room rang with laughter.