In Summer Cove, Skull was loving being out and about, back on the streets once again. Trevor found it uplifting to see him going about, greeting people, many of whom he knew by name despite only being in the job a short time before his injury. It was all too common to see neighbourhoods where people had very real reasons to dislike or be distrustful of law enforcement, but Spike seemed to have really found his stride here.

"Oh, thanks again for the strawberries with the get-well card Mrs Davis, they were scrummy!" Spike said as he walked away from an older couple he'd stopped to catch up with. He found Trevor with a smirk on his face. "What?"

"Only you could get shot and turn into a celebrity." Trevor chuckled. "That couple really sent you strawberries?"

"I got tons of well-wishes from a lot of the neighbourhoods." Spike told him matter-of-factly. "Knowing so many people wanted to see me back really lifted my spirits in some of the physio sessions."

"So, are you thinking of sticking around once your probationary period is up?" Trevor asked him. Spike just shrugged. Police fresh out of the academy were very often posted to places other than where they grew up or lived in order to prevent old friendships and affiliations creating conflicts of interest while they were learning the ropes. Spike's home and family were still in Panorama, while a few of his friends had migrated outwards to other places following graduation.

"I guess with preference I'd like somewhere closer to home, but I guess a lot depends on where the jobs are." Spike told him honestly. "Vicky's really loving her job back home, so unless she gets a promotion or something I guess I'd kind of like to go back if I can."

"You are such a cliché Spike, you know that?" Trevor teased him. "You're still with your High School sweetheart? I couldn't even tell you where my prom date lives now."

"Some people are just right for each other." Spike told him sagely as they rounded a corner into a public street. There, they found a large group assembled, chanting, waving signs and pumping fists in the air. They were huddled around a guy who was abnormally tall, meaning he either had legs which were one and a half times too long for his body or he was literally standing on a soap box. Spike just sighed. "And some people are just wrong for everyone."

"Tell me about it." Trevor groaned. The way people were starting to jostle and get worked up, it was clear that the message was reaching them, and that people were starting to get worked up. "Come on, we should check it out. This looks like it could get ugly."

As they approached, they could start to hear more of what was being said. It was getting people pretty riled up.

"...and this is what we've come to! Jobs are going to people that didn't even live here!" He called out. "We're not even just talking about a few people coming in from abroad; sometimes these people didn't even come from this planet! Way I hear it the production plant down the road just hired some of those Andresians!"

"They're good workers!" Someone from the crowd called out. The man just seemed to ignore this though.

"Public services are stretched to breaking point, people coming in, scrounging off the backs of hard-working Americans, claiming benefits that come right from your pocket!" He continued.

"So are they stealing jobs or not working and scrounging benefits?" Another called out. "Talk about a mixed message!"

"You might laugh, but when your children are sharing classrooms with people who don't share our values..."

"Oh put a sock in it you moron!" An old lady called out. "This town's always been mixed culture and that family that moved next door to me is lovely! Their kid mows my lawn every Saturday!"

There were a few more of these exchanges going back and forth. Spike and Trevor knew this was where there was potential for a flare up. It was bad enough when rallies had a lot of support, but when groups with strongly opposing points of view got together there was always the potential for things to get out of hand. Trevor indicated to Spike to head one way, while he went the other to get a better view of the whole crowd, trying to find if there was anyone that looked like they were close to their fill of reasoned debate. The man on the stage saw Trevor and pointed directly at him.

"And you see, you see what we have to put up with? My voice is being silenced! Silenced by the State because I have a different point of view..."

"How's your voice being silenced? You're literally standing on a public street with a bullhorn!" Trevor answered. "I'm just here to keep an eye on things; make sure things are nice and peaceful."

"Well, it's about time we had someone that was willing to stand up for the people in this area, to fight to keep things going the right way!" The man continued. Trevor just groaned and stared at him in a weary way. "A man who has fought for this nation and served this country, please welcome your next Senator, Richard Tracker!"

Trevor felt like he'd been hit with cold water when he heard the name. The man stepped down off the box, giving way to an older man, greying, wearing an expensive suit. Trevor felt his entire body tense up, and just stared as he saw him get up on the podium, taking the bullhorn.

"Trevor, things are starting to get a little heated here." Spike's voice came through the radio. "Trevor? Trevor?"

Trevor just turned and walked away, leaving the crowd behind. Spike saw this and tried to raise his attention, but seeing Trevor trudging away, he too abandoned the crowd and ran after him.

"Trevor, what happened?" Spike asked.

"No one's doing anything wrong." Trevor told him.

"But, people are getting..."

"It's called the First Amendment Spike!" Trevor snapped. "I don't like what that asshole is saying any more than you do, but until he breaks any laws he's entitled to say what he wants!"

"But..."

"Spike, he's already called us out! Our presence could enflame things more than walking away!" Trevor interrupted him, feeling his anger beginning to catch up to him. He could feel the power building in him. "Now, come on. There's a place near here that does great milkshakes."

"But..."

"I'm paying!" Trevor told him. Spike's face lit up.

"Ooh, milkshake!" He replied as he followed on.

Over in Millport, with the help of the locals, work on the new workshop was going brilliantly. They'd managed to raise the workshop and the shell was coming along nicely. Brody had filled a bucket with nails and was just guiding it up as Levi pulled it up with a rope so he could get work done on the roof. He stepped away from the project for a moment to get a well-deserved break, but he found Burt sitting on his own, right where they had left the lunch stuff. He came across.

"Mind if I sit down?" Brody asked. Burt just shrugged.

"It's your farm." He commented. Brody took a seat and picked up a bottle of water.

"This is going really great. We never expected all this help." Brody said as he panned his hand across the farm. "This place is going to look great."

"Whatever you say." Burt muttered. "Just seems like a farm where no one's actually a farmer seems like a waste of land."

"What happened to 'it's your farm'?" Brody asked. "My dad owns it; he can do what he wants with it."

Burt didn't answer. As someone else came across, gesturing for some water, he reached behind him, getting a bottle, but in the process it looked like he strained something. The look on his face seemed a lot like pain.

"So I heard you had a training accident." Brody stated.

"I took a spill training for the marathon." Burt said flatly. "It's no big deal."

"I'm just a little surprised." Brody told him. "Usually when I fall while running I skin my knees, but yours seem to be fine."

"I fell backwards alright?" Burt asked him.

"You know, I don't often fall backwards. When I do, it's usually because I've been hit or thrown." Brody told him. Burt just stared at him.

"What are you trying to say?" Burt asked him.

"Just...if someone's giving you trouble you could tell someone..."

"Look, I know you've not been around here in a long time, but no one ever gives me hassle!" He snapped. "I might hate this town, but I'm the local hero! People around here worship the ground I walk on!"

"I'm just saying..."

"You know what? You're worse than Brainiac!" Burt interrupted him. Brody just looked at him curiously.

"The Superman villain?" He asked.

"No, some annoying kid from my school who just...he...just...stay away from me!"

With that, he got up and stormed off into the woods. Brody just scratched his head.

"What was that all about?" He asked. Just then, he noticed his dad looking around, almost like he was making sure no one was watching before he slipped around the back of the house. Brody furrowed his brows and went to follow him.

Dane got there, and started to scan the ground. Brody could recognise the intensity of the glare, and the regular patterns of his movements. It was like he was searching for something. He was looking through the tall grass and around the back of the house, kicking leaves. Whatever he was looking for, it seemed like it was small.

"Dad?" Brody asked. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm just...uh..." Dane stammered, starting to look for an excuse. He had managed to slip back into the house after the intruder had been scared off, but that meant he had to abandon his search for the diary. He still didn't know where it had ended up, and he was hoping to find it while everyone was paying attention to the workshop. "I was...looking for the keys to the truck. With the workshop raised we should probably get at least one coat of weatherproof paint on before nightfall."

"There's tons of paint." Brody told him, before pulling out the keys. "Also, last time I checked, the keys were in the truck. I know this place is out in the wilds a little, but that's still pretty bad security."

Dane just smiled and came towards Brody, taking the keys. The search for the diary would have to wait. He now didn't have an excuse.

"Come on, we should get back." Brody told him. "It's great of the town to offer to help, but I think the definition of 'help' implies we do some of the work."

"I guess you're right." Dane sighed, heading with his son back to the workshop. "Come on, let's get this finished."

Meanwhile, back in Zandar, things were continuing with the celebrations. Both the Summer Cove and Amber Beach teams were having a good time, albeit with Koda still not really in the mood to party, but he had finally come out of his room and was meeting up with the others. She smiled to see Sarah hugging him and introducing him to her team. He was, so far, the only member of the Amber Beach team that they hadn't actually met yet.

Kendall smiled to see him buoyed a little by the presence of his friends. It was just one of a series of unfortunate circumstances that Jack had died while he was abroad. Koda did travel a fair bit now in his career, but he always loved being back in Amber Beach and being around his family at the museum. That he was in another country when Jack passed, and so his friends weren't there at the time was just terrible luck. She even saw him smile once or twice as she talked with the others, especially Sarah, and listened to her tell him all about her latest adventures.

She heard a beeping and checked her cell phone, finding a text message. It instructed her to go to her computer. This was what Kendall was waiting for. She slipped out of the room, leaving the others quietly so as not to create much of a fuss. Getting to her room, she opened up her laptop. It didn't take long for her to connect the video chat.

"Terry, thanks for getting in touch with me." Kendall greeted him. Terry Watanabe was many things. Sister to Mia, for a short spell the stand-in Pink Samurai Ranger, but for just now, the most prominent thing was he was a doctor. He'd been a medical student when he was asked to stand in for Mia to cover her recovery from an injury, but in the time since then he'd managed to get his medical degree and had been working in Panorama City's most prominent hospital for a couple of years now. "I wasn't expecting you to find the time so soon."

"Hey, that Spandex isn't just a funky suit. It's a pledge to always be there for others. Whenever another brother or sister in the suit calls, we have to answer right?" He asked. Kendall just smiled and nodded.

"You know it. I've practically not been able to get Tommy off my speed-dial since my work on Koda's people was published." She answered. "He might love being a teacher but he's still a palaeontologist at heart."

"So, what can I do for you?" He asked. "Is one of your team hurt? Sick?"

"It's...a little more complicated than that." Kendall told him. "Koda, our Blue Ranger...someone he knows died recently. Very suddenly."

"I'm really sorry to hear that." Terry told her. "I'm not sure what exactly I can do though without knowing the details of the case..."

"Oh, right. I've been running a worm program on the hospital where he was admitted." Kendall told him. "Here, you should be getting the file right about...now."

Terry just stared open-mouthed at the screen for a moment.

"What? What is it? Do you see something?" She asked.

"Wow, they said you were good with the hacking stuff but...I wasn't expecting..." He started to say. "I could have asked them to transfer over the file but...yeah; I'm not sure how I feel about you accessing patients' confidential files."

"Jack didn't have any next of kin. Patient/Doctor privilege ended when he died." Kendall told him. "Trust me, I was doing some ethical soul-searching on this one too, but Koda's taking this so hard I thought this would be worth it."

"Alright, let's see what we have." Terry said, checking things out. "OK, a lot of this looks good, are you even sure this guy's dead?"

"Well if he isn't that autopsy would have been a bitch." Kendall sighed. "What are you seeing?"

"Well, I'm not going to say this guy had a particularly great lifestyle. I see a lot of scar tissue, a lot of bone re-modelling from multiple fractures across...a hell of a lot of years..."

"He was a professional wrestler." Kendall told him.

"Well that explains a lot." Terry told him. "Well, his systems all took a bit of abuse. It looks like his diet wasn't necessarily brilliant. He's definitely enjoyed his drink..."

"Jack took care of himself, but he did like his vices." Kendall replied. "I don't think anyone was under any doubt he liked his whiskey."

"Um...yeah, OK, this is something. His blood work..." Terry said, starting to look through it. "Oh man, this is a bit of a horror story. His blood work looks like a pharmacy."

"It is?" Kendall asked.

"I mean, there are some painkillers in there, sleeping pills, a few things for some other ailments, some blood pressure meds..." He said, rhyming them off. "Doses that are way higher than I've ever seen prescribed. If I didn't know any better I'd say he's been self-medicating for a long time."

"How long?" Kendall asked him.

"Years." He replied honestly. "Some of the doses are way higher than recommended, but it looks like his body's built some resistances. That's probably why he didn't end up in hospital a lot sooner."

"Steroids?" Kendall asked. Terry shook his head.

"I wouldn't be shocked, but no. It doesn't look like he was using." Terry told her. "Maybe he did, but not for many years. His system doesn't show any signs of it."

"So that build was all natural?" She asked. "Damn, that's impressive."

"Yeah, with the exception of his vices he did seem to take care of himself..." Terry said as his words tailed off. "Ah...um...right...OK...that's definitely something."

"What? What is it?" Kendall asked. "Did you find something?"

"Yeah, I'd say I've found something." Terry told her. "I'm putting a scan of Jack's brain on your screen."

"OK, what am I looking at?" She asked him. "I'm guessing this area highlighted is where the stroke took place?"

"Yeah, that's what did it." Terry told her. "But...well...I'm giving you a side-by-side. Here's a scan of a patient roughly Jack's age."

Kendall furrowed her brows as she looked at it.

"It's...definitely different." She stated. "I'm sorry, but neuroscience isn't my speciality."

"The dark areas show areas of damage, areas where there's been degradation of the tissue." Terry answered. Kendall gulped.

"Um...most of Jack's brain is..."

"Yeah, you spotted it." He told her. "Post-concussion syndrome."

"What?" Kendall asked.

"We're seeing it more and more sadly. We get a few servicemen and suchlike, but we tend to see it a lot among people that take part in contact sports." He explained. "Boxing, MMA, hockey, football, take your pick."

"So this was from the fact Jack had a concussion?" Kendall asked him.

"No, it's not that. It's a build up of damage that takes place from multiple concussions over time; especially when people don't take much time to recover afterwards." He explained. "The damage builds up and degrades, it affects a lot of the mental faculties...the sad fact is Jack's brain's been rattled around so much over the years it was...kind of a ticking time bomb. He just ran out of time."

"But if it's brain damage, wouldn't people have noticed?" Kendall asked.

"Well, it depends how close they were to him." Terry answered. "Looking at this, I'd have said I'd expect him to show symptoms almost reminiscent of someone a lot older than him. Memory issues..."

"Jack always was a little all over the place." Kendall confessed.

"...bouts of extreme emotion or aggression..."

"Everyone always said he was a bit of a moody bastard." Kendall sighed. "He did snap on people a few times, but most of those times it was related to the business."

"Kendall, if he's been like this for a while, it's possible some people, even his friends, just didn't realise how bad things were getting." Terry told her. "I'm sorry to say this, but it looks like the abuse Jack took in his career, all the hits to the head, all the bumps...it just finally caught up to him."

"Good grief, I am not looking forward to telling the others this." Kendall sighed.

"The good news is we're learning more about the long-term effects of head trauma every day. A lot of sports companies and suchlike are taking recommendations on how they can take care of their athletes and make their businesses safer." Terry told her. "I've got some studies from a few sources your friends can look at if you think it'd help."

"Thanks Terry." Kendall answered. "Say Hi to Serena for me."

"I will." He told her. "Kendall...I wish this conversation had been under better circumstances."

"So do I." Kendall replied as she signed off, awaiting the e-mail from Terry covering everything they had just discussed, all the time trying to think how she could tell Koda that the thing Jack had loved had been what had killed him.