"Bullfrog, what do we know?" Steve asked urgently, as he pushed the Silverado faster and faster toward Pearl Hickam. "You and Catherine okay? What's going on?"

Danny could hear Nick's voice on the other end of the line, but couldn't make out what he was saying. The look of relief on Steve's face at least gave him hope that Nick and Catherine were safe and uninjured - for the moment.

"Okay, copy that," Steve said. Some of the tension seemed to ease out of the stiff line of his shoulders.

"What's going on? And why did we bring your truck?" Danny demanded.

"There was a massive explosion on the bridge," Steve said. "First thought, always, is a terror attack. Cutting off Pearl Hickam . . . there's a reason the Japanese bombed Pearl. It's a high priority target. Obviously, the entire base is on high alert. But they think the explosion was an accident. A fuel truck, possibly propane. Nick and Catherine are okay. And we're in the truck because of my gear, Danny. I have - we'll need diving gear."

"Oh, shit," Danny murmured. "That bad?"

"Eyewitnesses reported at least two vehicles in the water," Steve said. "Navy already sent teams in, of course, but . . . "

"I know, babe, you'll need to know that you've done everything you can," Danny said quietly. "Okay, what does Five-O do?"

"Whatever we can," Steve said. "But I want everyone to look for anything - anything at all - that could tie to WoFat. At this point, we have to assume that anything that could be remotely linked to me, or my family - there's a possibility that it could be WoFat."

"Understood," Danny said. Steve was thumbing another number into his phone.

"This is Commander Steve McGarrett," he said, speaking clearly and quickly. "We've got a massive incident on the Admiral Clarey Bridge, assuming we will have both civilian and military injuries. Civilians will be headed to Queens, military to Tripler. Have your people ready." There was a pause. "Copy. She's there, right? Copy. Thanks, Dr. Marks."

"Jax is working today," Danny said.

"Yeah, I just - I had a moment there, of wondering, what if for some reason -" Steve shook his head.

"Hey, I get it," Danny said. He waved his phone at Steve. "Rachel is at home with the baby, Gracie is at school. We check. It's what we do. Welcome to family life, Steven."

#*#*#*#*#

"Okay, it's all hands on deck and it gets crazy," Gus said, tying a protective gown over Jax's scrubs. "We gown and glove because we have zero time to hit the locker room between patients, so we do what we can to avoid cross contamination. We could get nine patients or ninety - until they secure the scene and triage, we have no idea. You ever worked one of these?"

"Yeah, but always on the scene," Jax said. "I was the one securing the scene and doing triage."

"This is the next step," Gus said. "They come in, we do a quick revaluation of their triage status. As you know, scenes are chaos, mistakes are made. Or they could have deteriorated in transport. Once we've confirmed their status, they go to trauma or treatment or waiting - one, two, three. Got it?"

"Got it," Jax said, nodding.

"Listen up, people," Dr. Marks said, standing on the counter of the emergency department reception desk. "They're sending civilians to Queens. We're getting the military personnel, possibly military dependents. It's possible we're going to end up with people separated from their loved ones, and frantic for information. We'll communicate with the scene and with Queens as best we can. It's also possible we'll get soldiers and sailors in here, injured, from an explosion . . . they might have a little trouble remembering they're stateside. Remember your training. Ask for help if you need it - McGarrett and Gus are both on today. Stay calm, focused, and in control. Remember you can only help one patient at a time, and trust your team."

#*#*#*#*#

"We've pulled extra staff from surgical and neuro," Malia said, holding the phone to her ear. "Chin, be careful, sweetheart."

#*#*#*#*#

A slow stream of patients arrived through the double doors of Tripler's emergency department. Jax was assigned to a young sailor whose shoulder had been dislocated, and who was sporting several deep lacerations, efficiently bandaged. Jax thought the work looked familiar.

"So, your shoulder was relocated in the field?" Jax asked, carefully helping a nurse ease the sailor into a dry hospital gown. Jax looked at the name tape and insignia on her uniform as she placed it in a generously sized plastic bag. "Lieutenant Miller, correct?"

"Yeah," the young woman said, smiling shakily. "My parents were so worried about me being deployed next year. They were worried that I'd get hurt."

"These things are unpredictable, aren't they?" Jax said. "I'm going to clean these lacerations, and then we'll get someone in here to give you the best sutures on the island. What happened on the bridge, do you know?"

"I was leaving the base, I'd almost made it across, and there was this ball of flame in front of me. Just - out of nowhere. I think I saw a car go into the water," she added softly, her eyes filling with tears. "There were - they send a speedboat, with divers, from the base. I didn't - I didn't see them pull anyone up, though."

"It was chaotic," Jax said. "You might easily have missed it - they may have kept them in the boat and headed out of your line of vision. How did you get hurt?"

"There was a pile-up by that point - people just couldn't stop in time, or they were panicked - a Range Rover slammed into me, I think that's when I busted my shoulder up," she said. "But there was this mini van in front of me, one of the wives from the base, with little kids in the van. Her engine was smoking, the frame was twisted . . . an Air Force officer and I helped get her and the kids out. I think that's when I cut my arms . . . I didn't even realize I was hurt until Commander McGarrett asked me to report. He reset my shoulder, patched me up."

"He did a good job," Jax said, smiling. "He's good with shoulders and patches."

"I'd heard of Commander McGarrett, starting the task force," she said. "I've arranged billeting for his reserve group before. Sorry, that probably seems really trivial."

Jax paused, looking up from where she'd been gently debriding one of the cuts. "Absolutely not. Nothing you do for the Navy is trivial. It's all appreciated. I appreciate it."

Gus popped her head into the room. "McGarrett, I'm sending Dr. Peterson in to do the sutures. The paramedics are bringing in a head trauma, sounds like we're gonna need our PTSD whisperer. Get your ass over to Trauma 1 asap."

Lieutenant Miller blinked in disbelief.

"Sorry, you work in military trauma long enough, I think you get a gallows humor," Jax said, finishing up the debriding of the wound and covering it carefully with sterile gauze. "She doesn't take PTSD lightly, I assure you. None of us do."

"No, I get it. No offense take. It's - she called you McGarrett?" Miller asked. "Related?"

"Married," Jax said, smiling at her.

"Yeah? What are the odds," Miller said. She struggled to sit more comfortably on the bed, and Jax propped up a couple of pillows, easing her back into them carefully. "Well, good luck," Miller added, gesturing to Jax's stomach.

"Thanks," Jax said. "You, too. Be safe, wherever you're headed."

They could hear Gus's strident voice outside the door.

"Better run," Miller said, smirking.

#*#*#*#*#

Kono stared after the retreating ambulance, her eyes wide and troubled.

"He'll be okay," Grover said, his big paw resting on her shoulder sympathetically. "Steve'll get 'im to Tripler, there'll be a whole team there, including Jax. You've seen her, she's good with this kinda stuff."

"It's not that," Kono said. "Yeah, Jax is great with this stuff. You saw that guy - it took Steve, Danny, and two paramedics to calm him enough to get him in the bus. Lou, what the hell do we do if Steve ever loses the plot on us like that?"

Grover looked at her solemnly. "I've wondered, sometimes . . . you think we really have any idea what Steve is capable of? It's just - sometimes, I feel like we catch a glimpse, you know? Like him coming down the outside of that building, like it was a kid climbing down from a treehouse, like it was nothing. He's talked to me, sometimes, about - well, not missions, because those are classified, but about how he felt, after the mission. So, yeah. I get what you're saying."

"I think we should start carrying tranq darts, and I'm not being cute or funny about it," Kono said, shaking her head. "Seriously, Lou, what would we do? If he loses it, really loses it, I don't know that the four of us could subdue him."

"I'll talk to him," Lou said quietly.

Kono looked up at him, guilty. "I didn't mean to put it on you -"

"Nah, it's okay kid. I called Steve out on his inner demons, and by default became the team member to deal with them. It's not that he doesn't trust the rest of you, it's . . . there's a different history, a different dynamic. He still looks up to Chin, still has that childhood hero thing with him. Danny . . . well, Danny deals with a lot of the day-to-day, Steve knows that, loves Danny like a brother but Danny would worry. Even more."

Kono chuckled. The idea of Danny worrying more than he already did was alarming.

"And you," Grover continued, "he can't help it, you can't hold it against him, but you came on young, and impressionable, and I know he thinks of you like he thinks of Mary. Wants to shield you from as much evil as he can."

"Nothing about Steve is evil," Kono protested.

"But he's come up close and personal with evil," Grover said. "It leaves a mark. And you feel like . . . like it can rub off, somehow, on those around you."

Kono thought about that for a moment. "Like 9/11 did to Jax," she said quietly. "So she gets it. That's one of the reasons they're so good together."

Grover nodded and smiled in agreement.

"I'm sorry," Kono said softly.

"What for?" Grover asked. They started walking toward Chin, who was sharing information with Duke and a man in Navy uniform.

"For whatever evil it was that touched you," Kono said, squeezing Grover's hand.

#*#*#*#*#

"We're gonna get this looked at," Steve said quietly, pressing a wad of gauze over Danny's eyebrow. Danny scoffed and raised his other eyebrow at the bruise darkening on Steve's jaw.

"You scared the shit out of me, Steven," Danny said. "Let's not worry about my head. Let's worry about the impending stroke, watching you go over the side of the bridge."

"His truck was unstable," Steve said mildly. "Couldn't wait for fire."

"Sorry," a muffled voice came from the gurney.

"Hey, Master Chief, you back with us?" Steve said. The paramedic made room for him to slide next to the man strapped to the gurney.

"My guys," he mumbled. "You get my guys? There was - the explosion, it -"

"Master Chief, you were in an explosion on the bridge, the Admiral Clarey Bridge, at Pearl," Steve said patiently. "Do you remember? You've got blunt force trauma to your kidney, and you took a pretty good blow to the head, you're probably concussed."

"The ship - we're under attack," he mumbled,struggling to sit up. "Damn pirates -"

"Steady on, Master Chief, we've got things under control," Steve said. He shook his head at the paramedic. "Keep him calm."

The ambulance pulled up to the emergency entrance at Tripler. As soon as it stopped, the paramedic was the first out, pulling out the gurney, with Steve on the other end.

"I think I decked the wrong guy," the patient mumbled, looking up at Steve.

"No worries," Steve said. "We'll get you sorted, sailor. We're at Tripler. You know Tripler, right?"

"How long was I at Ramstein?" he asked.

"Ramstein?" Danny murmured, helping Steve lift the head of the gurney over the threshold of the hospital door.

"Landstuhl Medical Center," Steve explained. "In Ramstein, Germany. Severe combat trauma injuries go there first, before flying stateside."

"Sounds like our guy here has made that trip," Danny said.

Dr. Marks was waiting for them just inside the door, making notes as the paramedic gave report.

"Master Chief William Ingersole, had to be cut from his car on the scene. Driver's seat was twisted pretty bad, he reported severe pain over his right kidney. Driver window was spider-webbed, matching the bruising and laceration near his temple," the paramedic started. "Patient was extremely disoriented and combative. We couldn't safely render aid without the help of Commander McGarrett and Detective Williams - they need a look-over, too. Our patient got in a couple good hits."

"Orientation now?" Dr. Marks asked. He started looking around for Gus and Jax.

The paramedic shook his head.

"She's in Trauma 1," Gus said, walking by them at a fast clip. She stopped and did a double-take at Steve and Danny. "Commander, Detective . . . why am I not surprised. Wait outside Trauma 1, we'll get you cleaned up and checked out. We'll yell if we need the muscle, Commander."

"Yes, ma'am," Steve said automatically. Danny smirked.

"Thanks," Dr. Marks said to the paramedic. "We've got him from here. You bringing us more?"

"More than likely," the paramedic said.

Gus and Dr. Marks pushed the master chief into Trauma 1. Steve and Danny caught a glimpse of Jax, efficiently setting up in preparation for a patient. She was standing on tiptoe, hanging an IV of ringer's lactate, as the door opened.

"Jax, we've got Master Chief Ingersole here, blunt force trauma likely to the kidney, probable impact of head vs driver door," they heard Dr. Marks say. "Orientation is questionable."

The door fell mostly closed and Steve stood at the sliver of a window, watching and listening. Gus rolled her eyes and spared him a glare, prompting Jax to look glance his way. He smiled at her, their eyes meeting through the glass, and then the master chief's hand was wrapped around Jax's wrist.

"You shouldn't be here," he said urgently. "Oh my God, how are you on this ship? If the pirates board -"

"Master Chief," Jax said, putting her hand atop his, "we aren't on a ship right now. We're at Tripler emergency. I'm safe, and so are you. You're just a little confused, but it's okay. Dr. Marks and Gus are going to check you out and take good care of you."

"Master Chief, can you tell me what year it is?" Dr. Marks asked, flashing a penlight in his patient's eyes.

Ingersole hesitated. "You could be under duress," he mumbled. "Forced to treat the injured. Or you could be in collusion."

"How about we don't ask you anything, then," Jax suggested. "Just let us treat your injuries, is that okay?"

"My guys," he said. "My guys, they're hurt, I think Staples might have gone over . . . oh, God, I think the ship may have crushed him -"

"Help me roll him, I need to check that kidney," Dr. Marks said quietly, nodding at Gus. "Jax, just keep doing your best. I agree, let's go for calm, we've established disorientation to both time and place."

Ingersole groaned in pain as Dr. Marks and Gus carefully eased him onto his left side, to examine his right lower back.

"I'm sorry," Jax murmured. "I know you're in a world of hurt. We're going to take good care of you, Master Chief."

"My guys . . ." he groaned.

"I am positive that they're being looked after," Jax said. "Let's just concentrate on you right now."

"Are you under duress?" Ingersole whispered. "I'll get you out, I swear. I don't like the idea of women deployed to sea for this very reason. Holy shit, sailor, you're expectin'."

"I am expecting," Jax said, smiling at him. She took his hands in hers, gently redirecting them from batting toward Dr. Marks and Gus. "But I'm not a sailor, and we're definitely not on a ship. We're safe, at Tripler. We're not going to ask you to figure anything else out right now, okay?"

"You sound like a sailor," he mumbled, closing his eyes against the pain. "It's the way you say 'master chief'. That's why I don't trust 'em," he continued, jerking his head back toward Dr. Marks and Gus. "They don' say 't right. But you do."

"Well, they're Army, ya know? Whadda ya expect? My dad made master chief, before he retired," Jax said.

"Yeah?" Ingersole asked. His attention was fully focused on Jax, and Dr. Marks nodded his approval as he continued his examination. He murmured his findings to Gus, who furiously notated them in the chart.

"Hmm," Jax said. She pulled up a rolling stool so that she was eye level with Ingersole. "Served mostly stateside, retired from Earle Naval Weapons Station. Fire control."

"I'm sonar tech. Fire control, eh? Coulda used him on board today," Ingersole grunted. "Thought I recognized a Jersey accent, too. Earle's a good place to raise a family."

Danny glanced up at Steve, who was by this point eavesdropping shamelessly.

"Shit, her dad was a master chief petty officer, fire control?" Steve whispered.

"That's good?" Danny asked.

"That's fucking hard core, Danny. Highest rank of enlisted," Steve said. "No wonder her brother ended up in FDNY. Hard act to follow."

"You didn't follow your dad into the Navy?" Ingersole asked. "You chose medicine. Good girl."

"I chose NYPD first," Jax said, "but medicine is growing on me."

"Okay, Master Chief Ingersole," Dr. Marks said. "We're going to take you for a CT of your head and of this kidney. We just need to see how much damage there is, and hopefully we'll find that it's minimal enough to heal with rest and care. That alright with you?"

Ingersole looked at Jax, cautiously. "You're sure they're not under duress? And you'll be okay?"

"I trust Dr. Marks and Gus with my life," Jax said. "None of us are under duress. I will be just fine."

Gus opened the door to the room wide, propping it with the doorstop in preparation for wheeling Ingersole to radiology. Steve stepped out of the way quickly, but not before Ingersole caught a glimpse of him.

"Lieutenant Commander," Ingersole said, raising a hand in shaky salute. "Thank you for pulling me off the ship, sir. Are my men okay? What about Staples?"

Steve returned the salute. "Master Chief, it was my honor to help you out today, sir. RIght now we're concentrating on your injuries."

"I'd like you to look after this civilian," Ingersole said. "She's the daughter of a master chief."

"Another honor, sir," Steve said.

"And stop calling me sir," Ingersole groused, as Gus pushed him toward radiology.

"We'll bring him back here," Dr. Marks said, "after the CT. I'm assigning you to him for the duration of his stay in the ER. You did a good job, keeping him calm."

"I don't feel like I did anything, or got anywhere," Jax said frustrated. "All I did was talk to him - distract him."

Steve shook his head. "You have no idea how disoriented and combative he was on the scene. Somehow, you were able to talk to him and distract him in a way that we couldn't."

"Geez," Jax said, noticing Steve and Danny's bruises.

"Yeah, get these two cleaned up while you wait for Ingersole to come back up," Dr. Marks said.

"I'm fine," Steve protested, "but he caught Danny right over the eye. It was a solid hit.'

Jax pulled out her penlight and flashed Danny's eyes, while Steve looked on with concern.

"He concussed?" he asked.

"Borderline," Jax murmured. "Equal in size, slower in reaction. Nothing crazy for the rest of the day, at least. I can check you again later. This split - must have caught right on the knuckle. I'll actually make a note to check Ingersole for a fracture."

"On Danny's hard head," Steve smirked.

"Hush, don't harass my patient," Jax said. "Danny, butterflies would be easier, but stitches are gonna hold better, ultimately heal faster. Your call. I can slip in a couple sutures for you."

"Yeah, go ahead," Danny sighed. "Butterflies are a pain in the ass."

"Let me get charts and a room," Jax said. She headed to the nurse's station and pulled both Steve and Danny's charts. They saw her confer for a moment with Dr. Marks, who pointed at an exam room. Jax gestured, and they headed for the room.

"Get comfy, Danny, you're first," Jax said. "You want lidocaine?"

"Hell yes, I'm not a masochist like the two of you yahoos," Danny grumbled.

Jax chuckled as she gloved up. She cleaned the wound and then reached for a prefilled syringe on the suture tray. "Little stick, little sting," she murmured, slipping the needle expertly into Danny's skin.

"Son of a bitch, that hurts," Danny swore. "No more than when anyone else does it, though. Possibly I've had worse."

"Oh, thanks for the glowing review," Jax said. She pulled off her gloves and tossed them in the bin. "We'll let that settle for a minute. Now. What did you get into?" she asked, turning to Steve.

"Just clipped my jaw, I'm fine," Steve said. His hands wrapped around her hips automatically as she stood between his knees, her deft fingers carefully probing the bruise.

"Clip your jaw on Ingersole's fist, or pulling your crouching tiger hidden dragon shit catapulting over the side of the bridge after him?" Danny challenged.

Jax raised her eyebrows at Steve.

"His truck had one axle off the bridge," Steve said. "Fire was having trouble getting a cable connected. I helped."

"Of course you did," Jax said. "Okay, doesn't feel fracture. Anything else?"

"Might have twinged a few muscles," Steve shrugged. "Nothing a couple Motrin won't fix. Maybe a back rub, later . . . "

"I think I'm numb now," Danny said loudly.

Jax smiled at Steve, her hand still cupped around his bruised jaw. She bent and kissed him gently. "Glad you're okay," she murmured. "We'll check those sore muscles later."

"Yep, good and numb," Danny said.

Jax shook her head at him as she put on fresh gloves and picked up a pre-threaded suture needle.

"Want me to hold your hand, Danno?" Steve asked, settling back in his chair and stretching his legs out in front of him.

"Bite me," Danny said casually.

Steve chuckled and pulled out his phone, dialing Chin. He put the call on speaker.

"Kelly," Chin answered.

"Chin, you're on speaker with Danny and Jax," Steve said. "How are things at the scene?"

"Still pretty chaotic," Chin said. "But I just spoke with Commander Taylor and Lieutenant Rollins. Absolutely no evidence of terrorism or sabotage. The fuel truck blew a radiator hose, set of a chain of events ending in the vehicular pile-up. We've sent dozens of injuries to Queens, and I guess that many to Tripler."

"Recovery?" Steve asked quietly.

"They pulled two people out of the water," Chin said. "It looked pretty serious, but the EMTs said that they had pulse and respiration on the scene."

Steve sighed in relief and rubbed a hand over his face. "Good. Good, that's good. Okay, Danny's getting a couple stitches from that punch he took helping me with that disoriented sailor, and we'll be back over to help. We'll catch a ride back to the scene with one of the paramedics."

"Copy that," Chin said, as he ended the call.

"I should be on the scene," Jax said quietly. She placed a second stitch and tied it neatly. "One more," she murmured to Danny.

"No, you're right where you need to be," Steve assured her.

She finished, pulling off her gloves and disposing of everything in the red hazardous materials bin.

"Go," she said, smiling at them. "I'll expedite your paperwork. See you tonight?"

Steve bent over her, sliding a hand into her hair and kissing her gently. "See you tonight. Don't overdo it today, okay?"

Steve's phone buzzed, and he kissed Jax quickly one more time, then answered it as he and Danny headed for the ambulance bay.

"Mare," Steve said. "Yeah, we're all fine. Oh, that was on the - well, yeah, that was me, but I'm fine, and so is the driver of the pick-up. Yeah, I'm sure. No, there's nothing you can do for us at Tripler or on the scene . . . but Mary, listen - sometimes we all end up crashing at our place after a case like this, you know, to kind of decompress? So - yeah, that's what I was thinking. Beer, snacks, sandwiches - that'd be great. Thanks, Mary. We'll see you later."

"So, your place when this is all over?" Danny asked. He leaned his aching head back against the wall of the ambulance.

"Only if you want," Steve said quickly. "I'm sure Rachel and the kids -"

"I think I'm gonna need a little room to . . . decompress, like you say," Danny said. "Rachel gets it this time around. I checked in with her already, while you were staring moonstruck at Jax."

Steve smiled. "She's amazing, isn't she? I mean . . . she had that guy calm."

"If she can see what she's been through used for good . . . maybe that will help," Danny said. "Help her make sense of it all, you know?"

Steve was silent for a moment. "Before we got the call about the bridge, Danny, you - the episie thing."

"Episiotomy," Danny said quietly. "Yeah, sorry, buddy, to dump it on you like that I just - didn't they suggest you guys take childbirth classes?"

"There's classes?" Steve asked. "No one mentioned them."

"Maybe because they thought you'd be doing a C-section," Danny mused. "But the classes tell you all about this stuff. Breathing exercises, so you can breathe through labor . . . all of your pain relief options . . . nursing . . . "

Steve was silent again. "Jax wants to bottle feed."

"Our moms did, right?" Danny said, smiling. "Whatever she's comfortable with, Steve. And jeez, twins . . ."

"I want her to have a C-section," Steve blurted. "She's - like you were saying. She's been through stuff. Things are starting to get better for her, and I - Danny, what I saw on those videos, God, that looked - traumatic."

"It can be," Danny said. "It wasn't for us, thank God, but - yeah. My sister, Stella, when Eric was born . . . there were complications, and . . . well. He's an only child."

"I want her to do whatever she wants but . . . I'm gonna tell her I think she should demand a C-section," Steve said. "Is that bad? I'm telling her to have surgery -"

"Steve," Danny said softly. "It'll be okay, babe. Nothing wrong with you wanting to protect her. Talk to her about it. You'll sort it out."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," Steve said, taking a deep breath.

The ambulance slowed and then stopped. They got out, squinting against the bright light, and searched for the rest of the team. Steve squeezed Danny's shoulder as they spotted Kono and Chin, conferring with Duke and Grover.

"Sure you're up for more, Danny?" he asked.

"Once more into the breach, my friend," Danny said, rubbing a hand over his head. "Once more into the breach."

#*#*#*#*#

Jax sat next to Master Chief Ingersole as he dozed in a narcotic haze. Every now and then, he would mumble out a call for help, usually for his men. She watched his vitals carefully.

"Any changes?" Gus asked softly, putting her head inside the room. "Blood pressure holding steady?"

"So far so good," Jax said. She nodded at the collection bag at the foot of the bed. "Output is on target, too. I think his kidney is okay. Any word on a room for him in neuro?"

"Should be any time now," Gus said. "You wanna go up with him, get him settled?"

"Yeah, can I do that?" Jax asked.

"Of course," Gus said. "Marks said we'd be loaning you out as needed. If he wakes up in yet another room he's going to be even more disoriented. Buzz me asap if any of his vitals change. And you watch yourself, stay clear if he starts throwing punches again."

"Copy that," Jax murmured quietly, as Gus closed the door.

When Jax glanced back at her patient, he was looking at her, his dark eyes focused on her with purpose.

"Hey, Master Chief," Jax said. "How's your pain level, sir?"

"Manageable," he said. "Something's not right . . ."

"You have a catheter," Jax said apologetically. "You have a kidney injury."

He shook his head sadly, a few tears slipping out of his eyes and tracking down to the pillow below. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm not like this."

"You have a brain injury," Jax explained. "It messes with everything - your memory, your ability to process, your emotions. It's okay. You're safe. You're at Tripler Medical. Do you remember what happened?"

"Shit, I hate waking up in hospitals," he said. "Done it too many damn times. This is - this is different, I don't -" he started struggling to get up.

"You need to stand down," Jax said, calmly but firmly. "You're safe."

He collapsed against the pillows. "Not Somalia?"

"No, Master Chief. Honolulu. Pearl Hickam joint base, there was an accident as you were crossing the bridge," she said.

"I don't remember," he said. "I remember someone coming over the water. I was over the water. I thought it was Somalia, the damn pirates."

"Your truck was over the bridge railing," Jax said. "Someone came over to stabilize your truck. It's not Somalia. Not pirates. The explosion was an accident, a fuel truck."

Dr. Marks knocked quietly and came into the room. "Master Chief Ingersole, we're going to take you up to neuro. You're going to get some good rest, and the best care. Jax is going to go with you until you get settled. You have any questions?"

"Yeah, doc," Ingersole said. "Why does this feel different than every other time I've - it's like - I don't know how to explain it. I know I'm not at sea, I know I'm stateside, not off Somalia - but - I can't shake the feeling that I am. Like, I'm seeing two versions of reality, coming in and out of focus like . . . " he trailed off, shaking his head.

"Like the flicking between two lenses, at an eye exam?" Jax suggested softly.

He looked at her in shock. "Yes. Exactly."

"Master Chief, you have both a closed head injury - from your head impacting the window - and a deceleration injury - we think you probably braked hard, locked it up, trying to avoid hitting anyone else. You've gone beyond a simple concussion into what we call a traumatic brain injury. It's going to take a while to understand what all has been affected, and create a plan of treatment," Dr. Marks explained. "But we are. Our neurologists and neurosurgeons are the best. You're in good hands. I'm going to confer with the neuro on shift, and then a nurse from neuro and Jax are going to get you settled."

"Thanks, Doc," Ingersole said quietly. He settled back into the cushions and let out a string of expletives. "Sorry," he said, putting his hand over his face. "It's just - I survived the damn Somali pirates, only to get fucked up even worse stateside. Shit, I swear I don't usually swear this much, ma'am. I just thought, when I got stationed here, I'd be safe, you know? Home from the sea, safe."

"No apologies necessary," Jax said.

"You knew," he said abruptly. "You know exactly how to describe this - this god-awful feeling. How'd you know?"

Jax hesitated for a moment, then decided the simple truth was best. "I was at Ground Zero. 9/11. I've had some . . . issues. I understood what you were trying to say."

With one hand covering his face, he reached the other, uncertainly, toward her. "Thank you," he said, hoarsely. "For understanding."

She took his hand in hers, and they managed to get him all the way to the neuro wing without having to let go.

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