Mike Danko lifted his eyes to where the water met the shore, and smiled seeing a familiar face. He ran to meet the lone figure standing at the shore's edge.

"Long time, no see."

"Yeah, man. What are you doing?" Mike asked.

"Waiting for you, I guess."

"When's the last time you and me, had a day off at the same time, without any other responsibilities?" Mike asked.

"I can't remember. And I'm sure there's something we should be doing."

"The wives would certainly argue that." Mike said with a chuckle as he fell into step as they walked along the water's edge.

"It won't come back."

"What?"

"The cancer. It won't come back."

Mike turned his gaze toward his friend, rather than the horizon. "But you can't know about that. That happened after . . ."

"I'm just telling you. You have some rough days ahead. She does, too, but you don't need to worry about this."

"But . . ."

"And you are going to have to forgive Terry. It wasn't him. You remember how stubborn she is. Remember that. Remember the time she wanted those lamps."

"Willie . . ." Mike began.

"I told you, I really hate that name." Willie said laughing. "I miss you Mike. Be sweet to Jill, huh? But I guess I don't have to tell you that." He turned to continue down the endless stretch of beach.

"Willie, wait!" Mike called desperately.

"Wake up now. Jill's crying. Wake up!" Willie's voiced changed and morphed into the familiar sound of Jill crying softly.

He opened his eyes to discover he was in a dim and unfamiliar room. He was instantly hit with pain - a deep pain of searing loss and the physical pain of his leg. He scanned the room and saw her then, huddled in a chair.

"Babe?" He said weakly. She sprang up immediately, and wiped at her face with her right hand. His eyes widened in shock to see that her left arm was in a cast.

"You got hurt?" He said hoarsely.

"I'm fine. Hush, now. Drink this." She handed him a cup of water. He sipped the cold water and it tasted so good that it made him smile briefly, in spite of everything..

"Thank you, sweetheart. That was so good." He smiled at her. "Is it just the wrist?" He asked as she turned and set the cup of water down.

"That and some bruises. It's nothing to worry about. How's your pain?"

He shook his head at her. "That's my line, Baby. What the hell happened? How did he find you?"

"Mike, we can talk about everything later. Just sit back and rest, okay." She sat down beside him, and lifted his hand to her lips, kissing his fingers.

"I'm sorry." He said gently. "You must have been so . . .I'm really sorry, Babe."

She looked at him with tears in her eyes. "Right now, I'm really grateful that you are alive, but later, I'm gonna be mad as hell at you."

"That seems fair." He said running his hand along her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She said leaning in and kissing his lips.

***R***

Chris Owens opened his eyes, and was stunned to see his ex-wife sitting in a chair beside his bed.

"Megs?" He managed weakly.

"Hey! You woke up! I was beginning to think. No, don't even try to lift your head." She moved and sat on the bed beside him.

"I thought I . . . was dead."

"You were for about twenty-four seconds. At least, that's what they said. I won't lie to you, you are in pretty rough shape still. You must feel terrible."

"Can't feel anything."

"I guess that's all the drugs. Jill said that . . ."

"Okay?" He found it very difficult to stay focused.

"Yeah. They are fine. You saved them. Jill and Mike are fine." She said gently. "Don't try to talk, okay. You just rest."

"Why . . . did . . .you . . ."

"You never took me off your emergency contact list. They called me and . . . I don't know. I still care about you Chris. I wouldn't want you dead. That was a stupid thing you did. You were crazy rushing in like that!"

"It was . . . better." He could only manage a whisper now.

"What?" She leaned in closer to him.

"Better die . . . doing. . . something . . .right . . . won't . . . be . . . ashamed."

"You don't have to be ashamed, Chris. You . . ." She found she couldn't speak too overcome with emotion.

"Not . . .me, . . . you."

"Chris, just rest, okay. We can talk about it later." She said trying to sooth him, and trying to keep herself calm.

"Be a . . . man . . . you . . . could . . . be proud . . of. Worthy . . . of . . .you."

Her eyes filled with bright tears, as she understood. "You just rest, okay." She said in a voice tight and choked with tears. "We can talk later, alright? I'll be here, Chris. I won't leave."

"Thanks, Meg." And then he was asleep again.

***R***

The next time, Mike Danko opened his eyes, Terry Webster was sitting in the chair beside the bed.

"When I fell asleep there was a beautiful girl sleeping right there. What did you do with her?" He asked.

"Michael!" Terry rose up and stood beside his bed. He reached out and squeezed Mike's shoulder. "She probably left because you look pretty ugly right now."

"She probably saw you and ran off. I know you think you are good-looking but brother, you are one scruffy dude."

"How you feeling, man?" Terry asked.

"Like hell. The leg's not so bad. Million dollar shot they say. Right through the muscle - completely missed the bone. Turns out he was a pretty crappy shot." He gave Terry a weak grin.

"Not academy trained."

"Thank God for that." He sighed. "How's Chris?" He asked.

"Still touch and go. He's in pretty bad shape. He would've died, but Jill got him breathing. He wouldn't have made it if she hadn't acted so fast."

"Toughest girl, I know." Mike studied Terry's face. "What aren't you telling me?"

"About forty things." He sighed, and wiped a hand over his face, feeling the stress. He knew Mike was going to be upset. He was probably gonna want to kill him.

"So, talk, man. I can take it."

"Ryker's not so good either. We were listening in." He met Mike's eye fearfully. "We could hear Borden talking."

"Not so good . . ." Mike began confused. "What . . ."

"Heart attack. They did a triple bypass. He's in ICU."

"Does Jill know?"

"That's where she is. She took it kind of hard, but wanted to wait until you were . . ."

"Listening in?" Mike interrupted. "Wait! How would you be able to . . ." He turned his bright, blue eyes on Terry. "What the hell, man? You son of a bitch! You sent her in there!" He threw the covers back and leaned forward to lunge at Terry.

"No man! No! She came to me! We couldn't find you, but we knew it was Borden. She knew it was Borden and knew he wanted to go after her. It was her! I tried. . . damn it, Mike! She was so determined!"

"So, you tell her no and tell her to shut up! You lock her in a goddam closet if you have to! She could've been killed! He put his hands on her! You heard him! The things he said to her! The things he wanted to do!" He swung at Terry who didn't even step aside as the blow landed on his shoulder. Leaning on his good leg, Mike threw another punch that hit Terry square in the jaw. Still swinging, Mike fell back into the bed, pain radiating down his leg as alarms began to chime.

The door swung open just then, and Jill, followed by two other nurses, came rushing in. One nurse pulled Terry back and away from Mike, while Jill pushed her husband down back into the bed.

"No! Mike!" She turned toward Terry. "Why? I told you to wait! That I'd tell him! It wasn't his idea, Mike! It was me! I was desperate! And I'm fine. It worked out fine!" Mike didn't meet her eyes but keep his angry gaze locked on Terry's eyes.

"Get the hell out of my room." Mike said stiffly. "I don't want you here; not now - not ever! You bastard!"

"I'm sorry, Mike. I'm sorry." Terry said.

"Terry, wait!" Jill pleaded. "Mike . . ." She turned back to her husband.

"No, Jill. He's right. I never should have . . .I am a bastard. If things had been flipped around and it was me and Beth, he would never . . ."

"I would've protected her like she was my own." Mike's voice was cold and harsh.

"Yeah, I know." Terry looked at the floor. "I'm glad you're okay, man. I am. I'm . . . sorry just sounds stupid now. Don't stress over it, okay Jill? He's right."

With a shake of his head, Terry Webster stepped out of the room, and collapsed in a nearby chair weeping for the loss of yet another good friend.