An aging man with long silver hair stood watching the almost empty garage, his only other employee was dealing with a very important and busy looking man who, despite looking busy had spent the last 20 minutes changing his mind on numerous occasions on how he was going to pay for his repair to the expensive looking Chevy . He smiled as he watched the kid grow more and more impatient with the man, tapping the keys on his clenched hand as he glared at him. He had known the boy wasn't cut out for customer service the moment he'd met him, but for some reason he had liked the kid. He didn't usually say much, and he was very secretive about his past, in nearly a year he hadn't learnt much more about him than he had the first day they'd met. He often wondered why someone so intelligent would choose to work for him ,but he was glad he did, the kid was a decent enough mechanic at the simple stuff and a whiz with the books and it saved him a load of hassle. He was always happy enough and once you got him talking he had a wicked sense of humour, but once in a while he could see a sadness in the young man's wide brown eyes and he often found himself imagining what could have caused it.

"Here you go." said the young dark haired man behind the counter as he finally handed the car keys to the rich looking customer. "New brake pads and disks are all done, should be fine now."

"Thank you. Helping out your grandpa son? Shouldn't you be in school?" The man behind the counter rolled his dark eyes and let out an irritated sigh. Dave chuckled to himself as he saw his young colleague gearing up.

"I was 27 last month sir" he snapped

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm developmentally behind dropped on my head soooo many times as a kid you see. But it's ok, Grandpa lets me do the easy stuff like breaks…." He said drifting and staring into space before shaking his head and looking into the man's face. "Drive safe! " he grinned as he handed over the keys. The customer gave him a disapproving look before starting up his car.

"You know Tom, your idea of customer service is going to put me out of business".

"Maybe you should put up a sign, 'All our employees are over 25" Tom said distracted as he began to tidy behind the counter.

"You can't keep jumping down their throats, they'll never come back. Then I'll be out of business and you'll be out of a job. Trust me kiddo, when you get to my age, you'll be grateful if someone mistakes you for under 40 just once."

"Oh, come on. The guy couldn't have been even 10 years older than me." Tom responded indignantly as he turned to face the older man.

"Try growing a beard" he said with a smile, hearing the impatient groan from behind him as he went to answer the phone.

"Dave's Auto Repairs, how can we help?" came the answer.

Fuller hadn't realised just how keyed up he was until he heard the voice on the other end. When he didn't recognise the voice a mixture of relief, disappointment and fear ran through him. Was this to be another dead end? He took a deep breath and replied.

"Hi, I need to speak with someone who I've been told works with you. His name's Tom."

"Yeah, one second."

He heard the sound of the phone been placed on the counter and his stomach tied in knots as the voice called out in the distance.

"Yo! Tommy, phone call."

When Fuller heard the rustling and scratching of the phone being picked up, he thought about hanging up and forgetting about this stupid idea. It had been nearly two years, why would now be any different. He also couldn't help thinking that this should not be a conversation to have over the phone. But what choice did he have?

"Hello?" came the uncertain reply. That one word snapping him back and making his deliberations irrelevant.

A flood of emotion rushed through him when he heard the familiar voice. He thought he had been ready for this, he was wrong. He swallowed the lump rising in his throat and answered.

"Hello Tom" he said nervously. This was followed by a gasp and the phone at the other end being dropped. On the other side Tom Hanson was staring at the receiver like it had given him a thousand watt electric shock. His eyes glaring in horror and his hands starting to shake.

"You ok kiddo?" Dave asked. Tom nodded, smiled unconvincingly and picked up the phone again, his hands only just managing to keep the receiver still.

"Captain Fuller? How did you find me?", the voice now sounded frightened, but it was undoubtedly Hanson's.

"I'm a police captain.", came the matter of fact response.

"I know, but..."

"It's not important. I needed to find you.", Fuller said kindly.

"Why?"

"Look, contacting you after all this time hasn't been easy, but we need to talk to you and you need to come home.", pleading in his voice lost in the younger man's shock.

"This is too weird. Am I in the twilight zone?"

"Tom, I'm afraid Doug and Harry have been in an accident." Silence. After a short time, Hanson's voice came down the line again, this time quiet and shaky.

"When."

"About two days ago."

"Jesus! They ok?"

"Look Tom, there's no easy way to say this. Penhall's truck was run off the road over a cliff." All the colour drained out of Tom's face and a sick feeling started to rise in the pit of his stomach.

"Captain, is Doug ok?"

"He's hurt Tom. badly, but with help he'll mend."

"Thank god.", he breathed

"It's going to be a long recovery, Hanson."

"Yeah, but he will recover right? You said. I bet he's kinda ticked off about that truck huh?"

"Tom, Harry was in the truck. He's on life support, has been since the accident." Fuller snapped, hating the harsh tone of his voice but he needed Hanson to understand.

"Will he…...?", his voice stopped, unable to finish his sentence.

"I'm sorry, Tom, it doesn't look good. I wish I didn't have to tell you this over the phone."

"Doug and Judy?" he choked

"Judy's coping best she can."

"Good"

"You need to come home."

"I can't" he almost whispered.

"Hanson, Harry is…."

"Then there isn't anything I can do help him is there?"

"Doug's not doing so good Tom. I think he's really going to need his best friends support. We'll do the best we can, but we just don't know how to get through to him like you do."

"I'm sure you can if you try." he said shakily

"Oh, we'll try, but Tom, the brief time he's conscious all he does is ask for you and Harry."

"It's been two years, Captain! What makes you think I can make any difference?" he sounded almost uncertain. His head pounding and feeling like one more word will make it explode.

"He's spent those two years looking for you. He needs to see you." The older man unable to tell the full story to that small frightened voice on the other end, yet desperate to get through.

"I'm sorry" he said softly, but you can't always get what you want" he finished before the connection was broken.

Fuller stared at the receiver in his hand, the sound of his old detective's voice still in his ears. The conversation hadn't gone as he'd hoped but not as badly as he'd feared. He could hear the worry and concern in that voice and although it had been almost two years and he had been so ill, he didn't think Tom Hanson would have changed that much. He just hoped it would be enough.

Tom stared at the phone like it was a poisonous snake that had just bitten him, his head reeling and his stomach churning. Part of him wanted to grab his keys and drive back to what he still thought of as home as fast as he could see the familiar faces and do whatever he could to help, another part wanted to run and find somewhere else to hide. But it seemed that wherever he ran to he would be found eventually.

"Hey are you ok?"

"Yeah. Just the past coming back to bite me in the ass.", he replied trying to smile.

"It has a habit of doing that."

"So, I hear."

"Are you sure you're alright. You really don't look so good."

"A couple of old friends of mine have been hurt in an accident. Apparently one of them is desperate to see me." Tom said, looking intently at the floor.

"You need time off? No problem, take a few days, go visit and make sure they're ok."

"They're not ok. They think one of them will never be ok" he said raking his hands through his hair and taking a deep breath. "And I can't visit."

"Something you're not telling me kiddo?" he asked kindly.

"It's a long story and I'm tired of telling it."

"We're not exactly rushed off our feet here" he said kindly pulling up a couple of stools and signalling for Tom to sit down. He took a deep breath and stared past the older man's shoulder at the wall behind, trying not to make eye contact, he still didn't like seeing people's reactions and their pitying faces when they heard his story.

"Back home, I was an undercover police officer. The man that just called, he was my captain. My old partners, my friends, have been in an accident"

"I have to say I'm a little surprised, Tommy."

"Why?"

"You don't look like a cop".

"I wasn't supposed to. That's why it's called undercover" he said with a small smile.

"In all the time I've known you you've never talked about anything that happened in your life before the day we met."

"My past isn't something I like to talk about."

"Why not?"

"Because when you met me it was six hours after I had been discharged from a mental institution."

Tom looked up and met the eyes looking back at him, seeing the surprise, concern and the usual pity staring out. He stood up and walked nervously behind the counter, as if it could act as some protection.

"Are you…"

"What? Dangerous?" Tom snapped, cutting him off.

"I was going to ask if you were ok actually son." He replied a little hurt.

"I'm sorry. People don't tend to respond to well to finding out they're in a room with a nutcase."

"I don't think you're a nutcase. If you are you hide it well.", he said kindly. "Do you mind me asking…what kind of..."

"I had a nervous breakdown Dave."

"That doesn't mean you're a nutcase!

Tom smiled sadly at him and couldn't quite bring himself to tell him the full extent, whenever anyone heard mention of any voices, they tended to disappear quite fast. He liked Dave and , well, he needed the job.

"Tom what happened?"

"Too many things to remember" he sighed.

"Would it help to do this over a beer?"

"I can't drink. It's tends to react with the medication. Which is working perfectly well, by the way, you have nothing to worry about. That and…"

"What?" Dave asked nervously, thinking he wished he hadn't asked. He hadn't realised just how little he knew this young man, but he liked him and wanted to help.

"I'm an alcoholic."

"Tom, I met you in a bar!"

"Yeah" he chuckled. "I do that sometimes, just to prove I can without, you know" he shrugged.

"Jesus, kid. Come on, start talking. It might help."

"I've been doing nothing but talking for nearly two years. It gets kinda old".

"Does it also get easier?"

"Depends on who I'm talking to."

"Spill it son!"

With a deep sigh and a nervous smile, Hanson began to tell it all over again. Just the highlights, not the details, he decided. People didn't like the details, himself especially.

"They reckon it started when my dad was killed when I was sixteen…" Then it all came pouring out, Amy, all the kids and cases he played over and over in his head, being framed for murder and finally, without meaning to, the story of Casey Moore and how everything finally came crashing down.

The older man had sat, quiet and still, taking in every word he said, his face for the most part, unreadable. He was finally understanding the sadness he sometimes saw in the boy and why the eyes looking back at him seemed older than they should. How the hell did he seem so together?

"So, there it is. Now you know. You want me to go?"

"You've had some life, man! This partner whose life you saved. Is he the friend in the accident?

"Yeah"

"He a good guy?"

"He's the best." Tom smiled distantly.

"Then, yes, I want you to go."

"What?"

"I want you to go and see these friends. One of them is dying aren't they Tom? Hanson looked away and nodded his head slightly, not wanting to say it out loud and make it real.

"Go. If you don't and you're too late, that's something else you don't need in there" he said tapping on his head.

"I don't know if I can go back. Whenever I think about them, I see them just like it was yesterday, frozen in time. But life goes on without you doesn't it. I just don't know if I can see them like that. What if I can't take it? Or they can't?"

"It might be just what you need. Tom, back there you have people who care about you, you have a family and a history, you can't run forever. If it's not right, you can always come back."

"I can't. I've got appointments with the shrink I have to go to; you need help here…."

"Excuses. Look, kid, you need to stop running."

"I'm not running."

"Hiding then! I think you know you won't forgive yourself if you're too late."

Hanson sighed and looked back at the older man, feeling drained and tired. He was right though, if he was too late that would never leave him, it would never leave the others and then there would be no going back. But what would be waiting back there, he had clue. He couldn't even begin to picture Doug in a wheelchair and as for Harry, he didn't even want to open that door. Then there was Judy and Fuller. He no idea what he would feel seeing them again. Talking to Fuller had been one thing, but looking him in the eye and remembering what they did? Was he ready for that? When it came down to it, it didn't matter. There really was no choice to make. Fuller was right, he hadn't changed that much and he knew exactly what he was going to do.