The great JE created the characters below.

Jenny (JenRar) once again your beta skills took a chapter in need of attention of turned it into something readable. Thank you.

Chapter 9 – Small Breakthroughs

I took a long shower, which was wasteful, since I knew there was no way I'd gotten dirty enough to warrant using virtually all the hot water, but it still felt good to get clean again and to have that extra degree of separation.

When I got out and dressed, I heard voices coming from the den. At first I thought Manny was watching the television, since I had given him the remote, but after listening a little closer, I recognized Cal's voice. I knew it was earlier than he usually came, so I was curious about what had brought him here.

I pulled the door open, thankful this one didn't squeak, and stood there listening, amazed that I could hear them so clearly. Then I realized I could only hear them because they were talking so darn loud.

"What in the hell were you thinking?" Cal was demanding of Manny.

After receiving only silence as a response, Cal spoke up once more. "Hector was pounding on my door an hour ago with a live feed of the surveillance from this house and demanding to know what in the hell I was going to do about you."

"Did you tell him it was none of his damn business and that protocol in safe houses doesn't require somebody to monitor the audio the whole time?" Manny replied, a little on the cool side.

"Hell no, I didn't remind Hector about protocol, man. Did that damn bomb blow up your brain with everything else? This is Hector we're talking about. I put the damn ear bud in my ear and listened to you degrade her," Cal responded, the hardness creeping into his voice making me want to step back into the bathroom for shelter.

"Look, I've never claimed to be easy to live with," Manny pointed out. "And in light of everything, I'm having a little more trouble than usual being friendly."

"Fuck you," Cal cut in. "I'm not talking about being quiet. You were totally out of line and cruel. Say what you want, but you aren't like that."

"All I did was point out that I wasn't as enamored with her as the rest of you are," Manny defended.

"Bullshit," Cal barked out. "I'm not enamored."

Manny laughed, "Now who's slinging shit? Hell I thought you two were going to start braiding friendship bracelets last night. Don't tell me you've always had this soft side and I just didn't notice. You change who you are around her – all of you do."

"I don't change who I am," Cal disagreed. "Honestly, the only time I'm really myself is when I'm around her."

"Then ask her out and stop bothering me," Manny attempted to dismiss him.

I could tell from the sound of his voice, Cal was gritting his teeth and partially talking through them. "I don't want to ask her out. Hell, if anything, I look at her as being the little sister I never had. That woman is special, and if you think I'm going to stand back and let you yell at her, you've got another thing coming."

"If you're this pissed about it, why did you stop Hector from coming?" Manny asked. Knowing Hector, whenever he taught somebody a lesson, his student would usually walk away with a limp.

"Because I thought you deserved a lot worse than what Hector would dish out, and we agreed that I was pissed enough to hand it out," Cal informed him.

"She called me a dick," Manny pointed out in his less than mature comeback. "Why am I the one being called out?"

"Because she did it to shut you up, and you'd basically already called her a whore," Cal growled, picking up speed as he talked.

Had Manny called me a whore? I didn't remember that he had. He'd said that when I walked in, the guys started thinking with their little soldiers instead of their big ones, but that wasn't the same thing.

"I never said that," Manny jumped in, obviously not recalling that either.

"You didn't have to," Cal corrected. "You obviously think that she's paid by Ranger and the only skill she can contribute is the ability to turn on a room full of bad asses. So either you think so little of our self control that it was an insult to us, or you think the only reason she's at RangeMan is to tease the guys sexually. Which was it?"

When he put it like that, I was pretty darn curious about the answer, too.

"Neither." Manny softened his voice a little, making me have to creep back to the doorway to be sure I could hear it all. "I just recognize that when she's around, she's the focus of everyone's attention."

"And what?" Cal interrupted. "You're jealous? You have attention needs that aren't being met by your co-workers, so name calling with a woman was your solution to feel like a big man again?"

"No, you damn pussy, I didn't say that." Manny was getting worked up again.

"Then why don't you start talking and tell me what in the hell you were saying, because I know what I heard, and I don't like it," Cal prompted.

One of them let out a long breath before Manny began speaking once more. "Look, this whole situation is a fucked up mess. I never planned on being laid out in a bed, completely dependant on somebody else to take care of me. And the guy that I'm positive did this to me is somebody I've wanted out of the world for a long time. But he's always been one damn step ahead of me, and I haven't been able to plan out his next move enough to plan for it and cut him off."

"Hernandez?" Cal said to clarify, not to stop the story.

"Right, Hernandez." When Manny repeated his name, it sounded a lot more sinister than when Cal first said it. "Anyway, she did a search for me just because I asked and pulled together a calendar of his travel plans for the next three months while I was taking a nap. I took a freaking nap, and she came up with information that would allow me to finally cut this guy down." The last part sounded more like Manny was saying it in order to make some sense out of what had happened than to tell Cal anything relevant.

"Thanks for clearing that up," Cal sarcastically threw out. "So she did something you desperately needed as a favor to you, and instead of saying thank you, it made more sense to insult her."

"I'm not done," Manny continued. "Ranger's number one rule has always been to keep Stephanie safe, no matter what. But picking her to come play nurse for me put her right in the middle of a situation destined to end in somebody's death. I always assumed it would be Hernandez that would lose, but in light of my current condition, I may have been hasty in thinking that way. And now that she's done a full scale search, she's hitting me up for why I want to know about Hernandez. If I spill the full beans, she'll get even more involved, which only puts her in more danger. We both know that despite everything else, she is known for getting herself in impossible situations because she's impulsive and tends to jump into things without thinking through the consequences. And this is one situation she can't jump into. Hell, she's probably on a kill list already since she was parading around as my wife. If I fail to take out Hernnadez, then even if he gets to me, he'll want Stephanie gone, just to finish off the whole circle."

"So…" Cal was struggling with a way to sum up what Manny was really saying. "…you're being an ass to…"

Manny knew what he was getting at. "I'm doing it to keep her at arm's length. To try to protect her from Hernandez and from herself. This is one situation she simply can't jump into."

There was a soft laugh that I thought belonged to Cal. "You realize she's already there, right? I mean, she's in danger because everybody in New York has heard about the rich woman who took on St. Elizabeth's to bust her husband out. So from where I'm sitting, you have two choices."

Silence descended until Manny finally got tired of waiting on the options and prompted, "What are they?"

"First, you can let her help you. Obviously, you've missed something in the research you've done, and everybody knows there's nobody better at finding a needle in a haystack than Stephanie. You're stuck here anyway, so you may as well have something good come out of it."

"What about the danger that puts her in?" Manny insisted on pushing that card.

"Are you deaf?" Cal challenged. "She's already there. You're just shooting yourself in the foot by not accepting her help. Your tough guy act isn't protecting her; it's just pissing her off."

"What's my second option?" Manny asked, apparently not liking what he saw behind door number one.

"You can keep up the routine you've got going on, insulting, being short, and refusing to speak civilly to her." There was a strange cracking sound, like somebody snapping their knuckles. "And if you decide to go that way, I can help you."

"You'll help me find Hernandez?" Manny almost sounded convinced that was the way to go.

"Sure," Cal laughed at Manny's question, but he didn't really sound amused. "I'll help you finish off your damn mission in life. You said you won't give up until you or Hernandez are dead, and if you don't let up on Stephanie, I'll take you out myself." He paused for a second before adding, "Got it?"

"Hell, man..." Manny actually sounded a little nervous. "Are you sure you aren't jonesing for Stephanie?"

There was the definite sound of a punch being thrown.

"Fuck, man, you're beating on a man stuck in a hospital bed."

"Let up on my little sister, or I'll see to you never get out of that bed," Cal clarified. "Got it?"

"Shit, man, I got it. You don't have to come in here beating up the bully on the playground," Manny said, trying to lighten the mood.

"I don't know why you're the only guy in the world that doesn't see it, but there's something special about Stephanie, and there's no way in hell I'm going to let you get away with trying to put that spark out. If I have to take a leave of absence and come sit in this damn room to keep you in line, I'll do it."

That threat made me laugh. I'd never had a brother, but I'd always wished I had. The way Cal was acting should have pissed me off, because I hated being told what to do, so I usually bristled whenever anybody tried to assert that kind of control over another person, but for some reason, hearing Cal do it made me smile.

Of course, I didn't think it was good idea to encourage him to beat up everybody that looked at me in a cross way. And something told me if I didn't do something, Cal was going to try. It might be cute now, but I figured him doing the same thing to every skip, checkout line cashier, and person on the street would get old quick, so I had to put this in its proper place.

I walked out to the den and spoke loud enough to interrupt their chat. "There is a third option."

Both of them looked at me as though I'd gotten the jump on them. Ha! I'd snuck up on two Merry Men. I was going to have to ask Hector how he moved without being heard, because this was too much fun to stop now. I couldn't wait to try it in the office.

Seeing that they were speechless, I decided to jump in and take their lack of comment as consent to start talking. "Option three is to tell me everything and let me make my own decision about what I want to do. I may rush in on occasion, but there have been situations that I've refused to participate in because I knew I couldn't do a thing to be helpful. So instead of going all caveman, you might want to step back and actually ask me what I could do to be helpful and what I might be willing to do. We're stuck here anyway, and if you make me watch one more PBS special, I'm going to start hurting you, so you may as well keep me busy."

Cal put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing, obviously thinking my tirade was only aimed at Manny.

So I pointed my finger in Cal's direction and said, "You could have asked me if I needed help before coming in here and threatening to take out somebody from RangeMan. This isn't exactly proof positive that you trust me."

"I trust you," he attempted to dig himself out of a hole. "It's him I don't trust."

"To take your favorite word – bullshit." Watching Cal turn red was fun, so I kept talking. "If you trusted me then you would have called to ask how I was doing instead of just barging in here and threatening the guy I've been asked to take care of."

He looked down, which in my world meant he was admitting defeat, and I had to work at controlling my face so that my internal dance of joy at finally winning an argument at RangeMan wouldn't shine through.

Then he totally blew me away by saying, "I should have called first, huh?"

I took a few steps closer and smiled at him to release some of the tension. "That would have been nice. I would have told you not to come prepared to kick anybody's ass, but you could have brought dinner."

Cal pulled me to him for a quick hug, and I realized how lucky I was to have this big guy in my life. I still didn't understand why he went from slightly friendly but still reserved to my self-proclaimed big brother just because I'd volunteered to help Manny and we'd chatted over Pino's. But I did say there was nothing in the world better than Pino's, so maybe it had a magic quality I just wasn't aware of yet.

Once he let me go, Cal asked, "As long as I'm here, is there anything else I can do for you?"

I asked him to carry back the files I'd finished for RangeMan and bring me some more if there were any. I didn't comment when Cal gave Manny one more threat to stay in line or he'd be back but the next time he'd bring Hector with him. Cal had the good sense to blush slightly when he turned around from his threat to see me glaring at him and holding the files.

Just before he left, Cal handed me a flash drive that he said contained some instructions from Bobby about new changes to Manny's routine. "I don't think he's going to be able to make it tonight. Bobby thought he had a tail and couldn't risk bringing them here. I guess the feds have been trying to figure out where Manny vanished to, saying he hadn't been debriefed and until that happened, he was property of the US government."

I laughed under my breath, and Cal asked what was so funny.

"If Manny gives me any more trouble, I'll call them myself to let them pick up their property."

Cal smiled at my response before saying, "It's only funny because I know you'd never do it."

"You sure?" I challenged.

With a quick kiss on my forehead, he turned to leave. "Positive," he called out over his shoulder before leaving me once more with my less-than-cooperative patient.

I gripped the flash drive and went in search of my laptop to open the file, deciding to see what kind of treats Bobby had in store for me now. Bobby had given me instructions for more stretches and exercises and suggested Manny begin getting out of bed and attempting to move. Obviously, all weight needed to stay off his injured leg, but there was a walker in the hall closet that he could use. I rolled my eyes, wondering how in the hell I would convince Manny to use a walker. He also suggested that Manny was probably ready to eat, and once we got him going on food, we could incentivize him by saying he could lose the IV and just keep the port for meds, which we would be stretching out the dosing periods for longer and longer each day.

"I've got good news and bad news," I told Manny as I came around the corner from the kitchen with the laptop in hand.

"What's the good news?" Manny asked, surprising me by going for the more lighthearted first.

"It's time for you to get out of that bed and start moving around a little, at least enough to sit in a chair for a change of scenery," I informed him.

He didn't look thrilled at the news, but he wasn't fighting me on it, either. "Then what's the bad news?"

"You have to do it while not putting any weight on that leg, which means using a walker." As I told him that piece of news, I looked down at the laptop, as though reading the instructions.

"No way in hell am I using a walker," he emphatically stated. "I'll hop, or limp, or whatever to keep the weight off, but I'm not in some damn nursing home and I'm not going to use one of those things." The more he spoke, the more he reminded me of a petulant child refusing to eat their vegetables at the dinner table.

"Okay," I pretended to agree. "You can hop and enjoy the surges of stabbing pain every time you jar that injured rib, or you can just stay in bed and allow the bed sores to form that are inevitable from such prolonged exposure to a mattress."

He didn't seem to like that image, so I added, "Oh, and if you don't learn how to move around a little, then that catherter has to stay in, and there's no way I can start you on real food, either, because I don't see you letting me wipe your ass."

Manny's chin nearly hit his chest, and his good hand balled up into a fist. I gave him time to absorb everything I was telling him and then tried not to wince when he screamed out, "Fuuuuck!"

Once he grew quiet, I asked, "Feel better?"

He looked up at me and squinted his eyes like he was trying to focus on something far away. Finally, he answered, "No, I feel like a useless sack of shit that can't even walk to the bathroom to take a piss. What kind of man pees in a bag?" Then he tilted his head like a new thought had hit him and asked, "Who's been emptying the bag?"

"Me," I confessed, not seeing the point in lying to him.

"I haven't seen you do it," he stated, not doubting my word, just trying to get a grip on reality.

"You sleep a lot," I told him. "I figured it would be easier on you if I did that kind of stuff when you were out of it."

"I'm an ass, aren't I?" he surprised me by asking.

"Why would you say that?" I didn't want him to beat himself up, but he had been kind of mean to me since we got here, so I didn't feel the need to just let him off the hook, either.

"I'm not the easiest person to get along with on a good day," Manny began, like admitting that was difficult for him.

"Neither am I." Perhaps a little understanding would help. "I'm stubborn, I'm impulsive, and I'm quick to fly off the handle."

He gave me a half smile, as though he appreciated what I was trying to do, but he wasn't fully buying it. It was at that moment that something stuck me – Manny was good looking. His skin was much lighter than Ranger's, but still several shades darker than Joe's. His hair was long and seemed to scream for attention. Even with it being filthy, I still wanted to run my fingers through it because of how straight and silky I knew it would be. He was well defined, but not layered with muscles on top of muscles like Tank. Still, you'd have to be a fool to not be able to appreciate his build.

While I was lost in checking him out, Manny started talking again. Unfortunately, I missed part of it but picked up partially through what I believed was an apology of sorts.

"…and despite all that, you still spent all night digging up information for me and emptying my bag of piss. I can't promise I'll become easy to get along with, but I'll try not to take off your head anymore, either."

"That sounds fair," I jumped in to stop him from rambling. As much as I loved it when the guys opened up to me, I could tell this whole conversation was making Manny jumpy, and I didn't want him to be that uncomfortable.

Unfortunately, since I wanted to change the subject quickly, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind and said, "How would you like to try getting out of that bed?"

"I still don't want to use the walker," he grumbled, practically pouting.

My eyes rolled on their own at that remark before I could even attempt to stop them. "Then help me come up with an idea to balance the weight so that you can move forward without using that leg for balance."

"Can I lean on you?" he asked, a little unsure of himself.

Normally, I would have made a comment about him weighing way too much for me to help him, but something in the vulnerability of that sentence kept my mouth closed, and I nodded instead. Then I remembered a certain problem about getting him out of bed and said, "Hang tight for a few minutes, and I'll see if I can get something to cover you up."

He looked down at himself and remembered his nudity before tugging on the sheet and agreeing. "I'll be here."

I couldn't remember anyone mentioning clothes for Manny anywhere, so I went to the bedroom at the end of the hall where my great-grandparents had slept and opened the closet. It was mostly empty, but hanging on the side, on a hook he'd installed himself, was a green bathrobe that I remembered seeing Nagypapa wearing at breakfast over his pajamas. I figured it could at least cover his most private bits until I could get someone to bring more appropriate clothes, so I grabbed it and shut the closet back the way I'd found it.

As I turned to leave the bedroom, I could have sworn I felt something cool blow over me and then that familiar male voice in my ears told me, "That's right, child. If you take care of the outside, the inside will start to open up, too."

I froze and spun around to be sure no one was in the room with me. Seeing nothing, I turned back around and walked as fast as possible to get back to the den. I didn't want Manny to see me running, but I was a little unnerved by the voices I was hearing that I wasn't convinced were in my head.

When I entered the den and held out the robe, Manny nodded and took it from me. I moved over to the table to turn my back on the bed, giving Manny a little privacy and allowing my eyes to fall on the gun I'd hidden under the paperwork the night before.

"All right, I think I'm mostly covered, at least until I try to get up," he announced, giving me permission to turn around once more.

I picked up the Glock and held it out to him, "I figure since you're not going to be lying around naked anymore, you may as well really get dressed."

Seeing what I was offering him, Manny smiled – truly smiled – for the first time since we'd been here, and I realized what that hidden voice from the bedroom was telling me. If I wanted to thaw out the heart of the man in front of me, I had to better attend to his outer needs. And for any guy from RangeMan, that meant helping them to really feel secure.

He took the Glock and palmed it briefly before checking the action, ejecting the clip to verify it was loaded, and then reassembling the gun and engaging the safety once more. He looked around before finally setting it on the tray that I'd used for his rolling table and asking, "You don't have a holster, do you?"

"Me?" I asked, trying to subtly remind him that I didn't carry a gun, much less a holster for one. I decided that being sarcastic wouldn't really help things, so I teasingly offered, "I'm sure we can rig something to attach it to your cast after you've moved around a little."

He gave it some thought and glanced down at his fiberglass-encased leg. "That's a good idea; no one would suspect a weapon there."

I controlled the eye roll at his excitement for the homemade holster and then moved to the edge of the bed and asked if he was ready to move a little.

"No walker," he stated one more time, as though saying it aloud would make it less likely to be necessary.

I couldn't really fault him. The plan must have had merit, because I repeated his words, committing myself to helping him regain some independence without feeling so broken in the process. Now all I had to do was figure out how to make that happen, and we'd be home free.