He was staring at the ceiling in the dark. Sleep was proving elusive. He had turned down the offer of a sleeping pill, and was now debating whether his decision had been somewhat premature.

His chest was aching more than he had anticipated. He seemed to have gotten a handle on the discomfort earlier in the day, but his desire to prove to his partner that he was healing faster than he actually was may have been a huge miscalculation.

He had used the services of an orderly and wheelchair to get to Mike's room on the floor above, but insisted on walking into the room under his own steam so as not to disturb and unnecessarily alarm his injured partner. And he had managed, without too much effort, to engage a candy striper to wheel him down to the cafeteria and back to get their coffees and donuts.

But the mere act of carrying the cardboard box into the room, though he was able to successfully mask the pain, had put a strain on his broken ribs and torn muscles. And he was paying for it now.

In the dark, he smiled grimly to himself; it had been worth it. The guilt that he had brought into the small hospital room with him, which had been ratcheted up by Mike's heart-stopping opening salvo, had dissipated completely by the time he had returned to his own room a couple of hours later. His partner was the only person in his life right now who could do that for him, and it was a reality that both comforted and frightened him.

He was going to be released in the morning, and Bill Tanner was going to drive him back to San Francisco. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to leave his partner behind, even though he knew that Mike was going to be released in a couple of days.

But as the older man had told him, they had things to do back home, things that hopefully would lead to the quick recapture of Jeffrey Lonsdale. That was going to be their focus for the foreseeable future, and he wasn't about to let his partner down.

He closed his eyes, trying to will his body to rest and his churning thoughts to subside. But it would take another long hour before he was successful.

# # # # #

He woke with a start, his eyes snapping open in the dark room, gasping in pain. He raised his right hand quickly to grab at the hospital gown over the left side of his ribcage, holding his breath until the agony began to subside.

He was breathing heavily through his open mouth, his aching chest heaving uncontrollably as he tried to stop his pounding heart. Snippets of the nightmare that had woken him began to coalesce in his racing mind as he gasped for air, the blood thudding in his ears.

A red car… Through the small section of the windshield between the side of his partner's head and the pillar he could see it, coming at them incredibly fast… He was thrown violently against the door as it buckled… Pain shot through his chest… Another heavy hit and the car spun in the other direction… The terrifying sensation of falling uncontrollably… His head slammed into the ceiling… Then nothing…

His breaths were getting longer and deeper, the pain gradually starting to recede. He tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. He closed his eyes, trying by sheer force of will to slow his still pounding heart. He could feel the moisture building behind his eyelids as the enormity of what they had been through washed over him again.

Devitt's words rang in his ears once more. "If Steve hadn't reacted so fast…" The captain had paused and swallowed, the realization of how close he had come to losing two beloved colleagues and friends briefly overwhelming him.

Tears began to slide down Mike's temples and he softly gasped for breath. It would be hours before he fell into an exhausted sleep.

# # # # #

The heavy wooden door opened and a grinning Bill Tanner led Steve and Devitt into the small hospital room. From the half-raised bed, Mike opened his eyes and smiled; his partner was wearing fresh clean clothes. And though he was moving slower than usual and still had an uncomfortably large white bandage on his forehead, Steve looked more like his usual self.

Tanner stood near the door as the others approached the bed.

"I see they sprung you," Mike chuckled and the younger man nodded, smiling self-consciously as he looked down at himself.

"Yeah, I've got a laundry list of the things I can and can't do for the next couple of weeks, but they're kicking me out." His smile was almost melancholic; he knew the older man wouldn't be released for a couple of days yet.

Mike's eyes flicked to the door. "Bill driving you home?" Both Tanner and Steve nodded. "Didn't you two come down in the same car?" he asked, frowning slightly, as his eyes snapped back and forth between the captain and the black inspector. Tanner nodded again. Mike stared at Devitt, his frown deepening.

The grey-haired captain took a step closer to the bed with a Cheshire cat smile. "Don't worry, you and I'll be driving home ourselves in a few days," he said enigmatically.

After a confused beat, Mike opened his mouth to ask "In what?" but Devitt cut him off smoothly. "So, ah, Steve and I talked to Evans and Garabaldi this morning about that… postulation of yours…"

Mike and Steve exchanged amused looks; Mike mouthed 'Postulation?" and Steve shrugged.

Devitt chose to ignore the silent interruption and continued, "…and they're gonna look into it and let you and I," he gestured in Mike's direction, "know what they find out. They were quite impressed, by the way…" He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to feign indifference. "But I just told them it was the stuff we expected from you anyway, so…" He shrugged again, totally deadpan. Mike was staring at him with a confused and very comical frown.

It was Steve and Tanner who began to laugh first, Steve with a groan as he wrapped his right arm around his injured ribs. As he continued to stare at the man in the bed, Devitt's grin was slow to build and he reached out to pat Mike's leg affectionately.

Very slowly, and with no expression, Mike turned to look at his still laughing partner. "And you're going to leave me here alone with him for the next few days?" he asked with a straight face.

Still chuckling, his arm still wrapped around his ribs, Steve nodded. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"No, I guess you don't," Mike acquiesced, allowing a cheeky smile to appear.

Chuckling, Tanner pushed away from the door and crossed closer to the bed. "I hate to be the wet blanket here but Steve and I have to hit the road if we're gonna get home at a decent hour." He looked at Steve. "You ready?"

The young inspector nodded, looking at his partner. Devitt glanced quickly from Steve to Mike then turned to Tanner, grabbing his elbow. "Ah, let's make sure that orderly's still out there with the wheelchair," he said quietly as he led Tanner towards the door. He looked back at the bed as he opened the door. "I'll be back after they're gone," he nodded at Mike as he pushed Tanner ahead of him into the corridor and shut the door.

Steve cleared his throat and met his partner's eyes. He smiled. "Well, ah, I better get going…"

"Yeah," Mike almost whispered, nodding. "Uh, you take of yourself, okay? And do what the doctors tell you to do, you hear me?"

Steve was nodding, meeting the serious stare evenly. "Yeah, I will," he answered softly. "And I'll, ah, I'll see what I can do about, you know, finding Lonsdale's parents…"

"Just… well, just make sure you don't… compromise your health, okay?" Mike tried to smile and his voice caught in his throat.

Steve reached out and patted the older man's leg lightly, smiling. "Don't worry, I won't…"

"Good." Taking a deep breath, Mike glanced at the door and Steve looked over his shoulder.

"Ah, yeah, I gotta go." He took a couple of steps away from the bed. "I'll, ah, I'll see you in a couple of days… at home, right?"

"Right," Mike grinned, watching with a soft smile as the younger man crossed to the door and started to pull it open.

"Here, I got that," he heard Tanner's voice as the door opened wider and Steve, with one last glance over his shoulder, disappeared.

Mike let his head drop back on the pillow, surprised by the emotions that he was suddenly having trouble controlling. For god's sake, he thought, Steve's only going home… It's not like he's leaving the department, he chastised himself. But he still couldn't stop the uneasy melancholia that washed over him.

# # # # #

He was still staring at the ceiling when Devitt pushed the door open and crossed to the bed. There were a few seconds of concerned silence before the grey-haired captain asked, "Are you okay?"

Mike turned his head and refocused. "Yeah… yeah, I'm fine," he lied, knowing he wasn't fooling either of them.

"Okay," Devitt said lightly, going along with the charade. "You, ah, you okay to talk for a bit?"

Mike frowned. "Yeah, sure, of course…"

"Good." The captain reached into his back pocket and took out a white envelope. "You up to looking at a few photographs?"

"Photographs of what?"

"The accident scene."

Mike stared at Devitt silently for a couple of seconds then blinked. "Sure…"

Slipping a small stack of 5x7 colour prints out of the envelope, Devitt held the first one out and Mike took it with his right hand. It was a wide-angle shot of the road and the crumpled Chevelle, black skid marks visible on the asphalt. 'The red car…' Mike thought. He nodded and Devitt put the second photo in his hand.

This one was a wide shot of the ditch, the familiar blue sedan, dented and dirty, all of the windows shattered and gone, lying on its side. A rumpled grey blanket and discarded medical waste were lying in the dirt several yards from the back bumper.

Devitt watched closely as Mike studied the photo silently; the older man bit his lip and swallowed heavily, his eyes never leaving the photo. Eventually he took a deep breath and nodded; Devitt took the print and gave him the next one.

They worked their way slowly through the small stack; the rest of the photos were close-ups of the scene. When he had finished studying the last one, Mike handed it back silently then met his colleague's eyes evenly. After a couple of long silent seconds, he said quietly, "I still can't believe we all walked away from that…"

Devitt smiled grimly as he put the prints back into the envelope. "Neither can anybody else. Like I said before, thank god Steve has such good reflexes or he would definitely be going home in a body bag, and you too probably…"

"Yeah…" Mike agreed quietly, staring at the bed.

# # # # #

Tanner glanced across the front seat. Behind his dark glasses, Steve was staring out the side window, his hair blowing around by the wind. He hadn't said a word since they had turned onto the I-5 and headed north.

As if he could feel the dark brown eyes on the back of his head, Steve turned, smiling self-consciously when he caught Tanner's glance.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," the white cop nodded, "thank god the road's smooth."

Tanner laughed. "And thank god they got the fire out so we can go home this way. It's a lot faster."

Steve knew that wasn't the only reason, and he was grateful for the concern.

Tanner glanced across the seat again. "Don't worry, Devitt'll bring Mike home soon," he said warmly, as if reading his colleague's mind.

Nodding, Steve smiled then frowned. "But… how?" he asked slowly.

"What?"

"How is Devitt going to bring Mike home?" Steve elaborated, staring at his friend's profile.

Keeping his eyes on the road, Tanner grinned. "Oh, don't you worry about that… it's all been arranged."

Confused but not about to press the issue at the moment, Steve looked out the side window again, and smiled to himself.