10:00 PM, San Antonio

It was the strangest of sensations, being so functional yet so completely numb. His body knew what it needed to do, how to go about doing it, and even did all the motions correctly. His mind, however, was completely voided. He had experienced fatigue before, operated plenty of times in combat completely exhausted, but this wasn't the same thing. He walked, in a surprisingly straight line with a surprisingly steady step but he had no idea where he was or what he was doing. It wasn't even that he didn't recognize his surroundings; it was that he couldn't see them. His brain had literally stopped conscious processing of information.

Then someone touched him.

All at once he snapped back. His mind recognized a threat and determined it needed its higher brain function. Even still the only thing he could manage was a startled jerk and a wobbly step back. The person who startled him reached out and steadied him, taking hold of his shoulders.

"Hey, easy there… Rick, you back with me?" Came a male voice, one he recognized as a friend.

Rick did a slow blink, everything suddenly coming back into focus. All at once he became aware that he was in an ER. There were people moving around him. It was too loud. The lights were annoyingly bright. His hands throbbed. T.C. and Topher were standing in front of him. T.C. was the one holding him steady, looking worried as he examined him.

"Rick? Can you hear me?" He asked, and though he sounded calm, Rick knew he was concerned.

"Tee," he managed to say through a choked throat.

"Hey, there you are. Welcome back," T.C. said and he guided Rick over to an empty gurney in one of the exam rooms. Topher followed, drawing the curtains.

"Rick, you feeling alright? You look a little spaced out there brother," Topher said as T.C. examined Rick's hands.

"I… where am I?" Rick asked, flinching when T.C. presses on his right index knuckle.

"You're at San Antonio Memorial. Do you know me?" Topher asked sharing a concerned look with T.C.

"Topher," Was the whispered answer.

"That's good," T.C. said, voice still calm and still steady. "I'm gonna check your head, alright? Looks like you were in a fight?"

Rick shook his head, "no. Not a fight. I'm not hurt." The admission made T.C. pause and he looked over at Topher, confused. With a soft laugh to cover his unease, T.C. said, "well, you got some busted knuckles. Want to tell us how?"

"I don't know… I'm not sure…" Rick said, not even looking at his hands. He was still staring off into nothing, tittering on the edge of losing it again.

"Are you having a flashback?" Topher asked. He remembered Drew had mentioned that at one point when Rick first came back. "Not only is he dealing with losing his leg, but he's fighting PTSD now," he had told him one night when he had found the young doctor hiding, for lack of a better term.

Rick shook his head and took a shuddering breath. "I'm fine," he repeated and he shut his eyes tightly.

Again Topher and T.C. shared a look, another telepathic conversation. They had found Rick in the hall, basically catatonic. He had mysterious injuries to his knuckles that looked like he'd been hitting something but no other signs of injuries. Though clearly something was wrong, he was in some kind of shock and was barely able to answer questions. Neither one of them would call him alert and oriented, but there was no obvious reason for it… Then it dawned on them both at the same time.

"Rick," Topher asked, voice soft like he was speaking to one of his girls after they had a nightmare, "You're fine... Is Drew okay?"

Another shuddering breath and Rick shook his head. He could feel tears burning his eyes but he refused to let them escape. He clenched his fist and held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. It was getting harder to hold it together.

Topher felt his stomach knot and his heart speed up. He suddenly felt sick. Looking over at T.C. he could see his friend had paled and was standing at attention. "Rick, can you tell us what happened to Drew? Is he…" and Topher has to swallow back some bile, "Is Drew injured or was he killed?"

Rick let out a bitter sound that may have been a laugh if it wasn't for the tears that escaped his eyes. "I don't know… the Army doesn't know…" and his voice hitched.

"What do you know?" T.C. asked, his voice becoming gravelly with his own fear.

"He was on a combat operation and his position was over run. The Army declared him MIA and assumes he's a POW," Rick gasped out, and the other stared, dumbfounded.

"Combat… I don't understand. Drew said he was assigned to a base…" Topher said, and he looked at T.C. who seemed to already be making sense of what was going on.

"He was assigned to a combat unit?" T.C. asked Rick.

"Sort of," Rick said, "His team did rescue operations. He didn't want to tell you because he didn't want you to worry. But now he's… now…" and that was all that Rick's composer could take. The tears he had been fighting back for hours, the numbing shock, it all gave way. He buried his face into his hands sobbing as he curled into himself.

Everyone who didn't know what the service was, everyone who had never experienced what they had, always thought that death was the worst thing that could happen to a soldier. That wasn't true, there were several things worse than death. Being a POW, that was the top of the list, and not just for the soldier. The not knowing, the constant worry, the frustration of being helpless… it was like being forced to hold your breath without knowing when you'd be able to exhale, if you ever could again.

The other two men understood this though. They stood there, both in shock, but each offering a silent strength because one thing was sure, they were going to stand watch over their fellow Ranger. Despite their own fear, their own raw rage and grief, they would watch over Rick. He was not going to face this alone. It was the least they could to for a fellow soldier… the least they could do for Drew.

-line-

1:00 AM

By now the news had spread through the whole hospital. Everyone had heard and everyone was devastated. T.C. and Topher had decided to keep Rick there, Topher sedating him. They weren't admitting him, just monitoring his shock. The hope was sleep would help and if not, they'd figure it out. As it was Topher had pretty much set up camp in the room Rick was placed. It was a good thing that the shift was dead because he would be hard pressed to leave. Kenny had hidden himself away about an hour ago, and not one person was saying one thing about that. Mollie was covering for him, knowing damn well that he needed this time.

Krista had made it to the locker room before she collapsed into tears. Her best friend, her partner in crime, may never come back to her and she couldn't face that devastation. Joey had found her there, and he held her saying nothing as he let her cry. Paul had gone to the chapel, seeking solitude and a quiet place. He wanted to disappear, to not exist in this place anymore. Even Scott and Ragosa had had to take moments alone.

As for T.C., Jordan had found him up where the old Tailgate had been. He was sitting with his back against the building's wall, staring out over the parking lot. With soft steps she came up to him, taking note of the red-rimmed eyes and the blank stare. A look she knew she was mirroring. Sliding down next to him, she remained quiet. Things had been so hard between them lately... losing the baby, the ending of their relationship, her near death and his trip to Afghanistan… There was so much fallout between them, so much hurt and anger, but right now none of it mattered. They both needed each other. T.C. was the first to move, extending his arm to allow Jordan to curl up into his side. She did, drawing comfort from the embrace as he wrapped his arm around her. She felt fresh tears fall from her eyes as she thought about weather or not Drew was ever going to feel safe again.

"I remember when I first met him, the first night he was here. He was so far out of his comfort zone… his eyes were huge, like he was on the battlefield. I had to keep reminding him I wasn't his CO, I was his equal here. But God, he learned quick," T.C. said softly. "Who could have believed… all that he's grown in such a short time…. he went from an Army medic to full on trauma doctor. And I got to watch that. I got to watch him grow up. It was like… it was like God took away my big brother and to make up for it, he gave me a little one," T.C. said, his voice thick. There were a million memories in his head right now, but just a single prayer, don't take my little brother.

Jordan smiled, through her tears, "after he hurt his hand he promised me no more competitive fights. Then, not even a month later, he came up to me and was all nervous," she laughed-cried at the memory, "and he was like, 'Jordan. I know I said no more fights, but the base is doing a fundraiser and some guys from my unit signed me up. If I back out now then I'm going to look like a punk…'"

T.C. laughed with Jordan, "what did you tell him?"

Jordan sighed, "I called him an idiot, but he looked so… he looked like a five year old asking for a cookie or something. I couldn't tell him no. I told him I better get tickets and he better win."

"He did win," T.C. said, remembering the fight. It had been an impressive one, Drew and his opponent had been evenly matched. In the end though, Drew had been just a little quicker.

"Yeah. He did. And he didn't break his hand that time either," she said, "he tried to promise never to do it again but I told him not to bother. Just… he's a fighter. That's what he does, it's how he's come so far…" a sob escaped her and her body shook. "Tee? Is he going to be strong enough for this? Can he fight through this?"

"I know he's going to try," T.C. answered, wishing he could give her a more reassuring answer. "Jordan, you know I don't have a lot of faith in things since… well, after Thad. But one thing I do have faith in is Drew. He's never let us down, he's never given up, and he's pulled through some major crap… I don't have a lot of things to hold onto, but if anyone can make a miracle, it's Drew."

Jordan sobbed softly but nodded. She pulled T.C.'s arm so that he held her tighter. All they had been through, and still no one made her feel as safe as him. "I thought I stopped believing in God when my dad died but I can't stop praying, Tee. And it feels so stupid, this whole thoughts and prayers bull shit, but I can't… I want my little brother home. That's all I can think of. I want him home."

"Me too… me too," was all he could reply.

-line-

6:45 AM

Rick blinked awake, his head feeling like it was full of cotton, his mouth too. He looked around him, confused for a moment until he recognized he was in a hospital room. For an almost blissful moment, he had no clue why he was in the hospital but that moment passed when he saw Topher sitting across from him. Their eyes met, and the older man gave him a tired smile, trying to be reassuring. It was a kind effort but it didn't help.

"Hey. You back with me?" Topher asked, his voice soft.

Rick nodded and rubbed his face, "how long was I out?"

"About eight hours. I had to give you a sedative, that's why you're groggy. Rough night," he said, and Rick could hear the roughness in his voice. Taking a closer look, he could see the red-rimed eyes and the suddenly aged look of his face. It was fear and grief as plain as day.

"I'm sorry," Rick sighed, bowing his head. He was mad at himself for falling apart so much that, even in his own shock, Topher was forced to take care of him. It felt like a selfish thing, breaking down while others had to function… like he was so damn useless.

"Hey," Topher called, almost snapped, "don't do that to yourself. You have every right to feel this… to be upset. And you don't have to apologize for it."

Rick took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was so tired, so drained; he didn't have the ability to function right now. "I can't… how am I going to survive this? The waiting… not knowing anything… I mean…" he exhaled harshly, "if he was dead I could… I'd have an answer. But this… I don't know if I should hope for a miracle or plan for a funeral."

"Honestly? You should do both," Topher said, his voice soft. "I know that's not what you wanna hear, but… hoping that he will make it back, that they'll get to him in time, that's fine. That's good even, so long as you keep it realistic. You can't give yourself false hope, you've got to keep it in perspective."

"What perspective? I have no information," Rick snapped, angry. Topher didn't take it personally.

"Not right now, but in the days to come you will," he reassured.

"Days…" Rick laughed bitterly, "it's been less than twenty four hours and I'm already losing my mind. How the hell am I going to make it through days?"

"Well, for starters, you won't be doing it alone. I've already called my wife; you're coming over today. She and the girls are going to meet us for breakfast, we'll stop by your apartment so you can pack a bag, then you get to entertain three very energetic girls," Topher said.

Rick felt a wave of emotion wash over him at the support that he was being offered, but he shook his head. "Toph… I can't… I…"

"Doctor's orders, and I out rank you. Besides, you'd be doing me a favor. It's Saturday, if you distract my girls, I can get some sleep."

Rick laughed, a choked sound but a sincere one, "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"No. Not at all…" Topher said. "Come on. Shift is over. Let's go eat; we'll take everything else from there. Alright?"

Rick nodded taking the extended hand Topher held out to help him up. "Thank you," Rick said, sincerely. There was no relief from the onslaught of reality, no real reprieve, but at least he had a tether in the storm.