Sorry I took so long this time. RL got in the way again. For all you faithful who have stuck with me, we are coming nearer to the end. That clue bus is gonna hit dead-on! As always, thanks ever so much for the encouragement. You keep responding and I'll keep writing!

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"Hi, Dad! Whatcha doin' sittin' out here in the car? Mom has pancakes waiting inside. Dontcha want any? Can I go tell her? Can I eat yours?" His son's face appeared suddenly at the window startling him out of his deep thoughts. Roy looked up, realizing he was sitting in his driveway, sitting in his car and still just as confused over what he should do as he was when he'd left the station.

He sighed heavily and put on a smile for his son as he opened the car door. "Good morning to you too, young man." He grabbed the boy up under one arm and carried him toward the house. He set the squirming giggling lad down as he climbed the front steps. Just then the door opened and his daughter attached herself to his leg. She bubbled on happily, her eyes sparkling as he looked at her. His daughter, his healthy beautiful whole daughter. Could he still have said that if someone else . . .someone other than John Gage . . . had been watching her that fateful evening? If someone like Marcus Kent had responded?

Roy shook his head, not liking that train of thoughts and not yet ready for where that train might lead him. He plastered what he hoped looked like a sincere smile on his face and let his two jabbering children lead him into the kitchen.

He let the kids chatter on as they entered the hub of the household. Jo stood at the stove, a griddle full of pancakes before her, a spatula in her hand. She wore her old terry-cloth robe and Roy thought he'd never seen anything so lovely. She looked up at him and stepped forward, quickly kissed his cheek and motioned toward his chair. He took it silently, his eyes just drinking in the sight of her as she poured him a cup of coffee and turned toward him.

His expression stopped her and her eyes searched his face. She could see the dark circles, the lines around his eyes and lips, the slightly pinched way he held his mouth. She knew these signs well, something was bothering her husband, something serious, and he wouldn't be willing to discuss it with her until he was ready. She sighed internally, 'Johnny would know what to say and he'd say it, devil be damned. And stubborn Roy would hear it from him because Johnny wouldn't have it any other way.' Another sigh, 'Why can't he see how much he needs Johnny in his life, how much we all do?'

She handed him the coffee and in a soft voice asked, "Tough shift?" He shook his head, then paused and with a sigh, nodded. After all, his partner had nearly . . .no, he wouldn't think about that, he couldn't think about that. Not now, maybe not ever.

Breakfast was a subdued affair for the adults although the children didn't seem to notice as they jabbered, squabbled and ate their way through it. Finally Jo ordered them back to their rooms, "Strip the beds and bring the bedding and your dirty clothes down, then you can go outside and play." Laughing and pushing each other, they ran off. JoAnne cleared the table then sat again with her coffee.

"Did you talk with Johnny?" She asked timidly. She hated fighting with her husband and the fight they'd had before he'd left for work had her praying all day and night for his safety. Her prayers were apparently answered as he was home safe but something was just as obviously wrong.

Roy heard her words and more over, heard her emotions behind them. He sighed deeply. He couldn't help but think about what she'd told him before he'd left the previous morning and what had happened that day. He knew she'd never been the type for 'I-told-you-sos' but found he still didn't want to admit she'd been right.

"I . . .uh, didn't really get a chance. The shift . . .uh . . .was really crazy." He told her truthfully. "Ga . . .John . . .and I didn't uh . . .get much time with each other." He stared deeply into his coffee cup, his lips thin lines.

Jo nodded faintly, not willing at the moment to push the subject. She figured that over his next three days off they'd have other opportunities to talk.

"Roy? Why don't you head upstairs for a nap?" she suggested. Roy shook his head as he sipped his coffee, "I couldn't sleep. At least not yet." He sighed and pushed himself up from the table, "I think I'll clean out the shed." With that, he was gone. Jo looked after him with a sigh, "Now I know something is wrong, Roy William. I've been after you to clean out that shed for two years."

The day passed slowly for Roy. He sorted and reorganized the shed, ate the sandwich Jo brought out for his lunch, then tackled mowing and trimming the yard. Once that was finished, he re-entered the house and took a long shower. He found his wife back in the kitchen, preparing the evening meal when he entered looking for a cool drink. She watched him as he sat at the table, then joined him with a glass of lemonade herself.

"Roy, what's wrong?" She watched him carefully as she asked it, knowing he'd try to shrug it off with a 'nothing's wrong'.

He shrugged and she hid a smile. "You said it was a rough shift?"

He nodded.

She sighed. "Well, can you tell me about it?"

He toyed with his glass. "Not much to tell. Uh, headquarters decided to transfer Marc to 45's for the rest of his training." He figured maybe that would be safer to talk about than the twisting myriad of thoughts in his head.

Jo blinked in surprise. "Oh? Whatever for?"

He shrugged again, "I dunno. Maybe for a more diverse training?"

She glanced at him sideways, something about that didn't sound right but she also knew policy changes happened all the time. She looked over at the pan of brownies cooling on the rack and got an idea.

"Roy, it's been ages since Johnny's been over. Why don't you call him and see if he'd like to join us for supper?"

Roy felt a cold chill race down his back as he stuttered, "Uh, I don't think he's home. I think he had somewhere else he was going to be this break."

She stared him in the eye and restated, "Call him. You won't know unless you call him."

Roy frowned then sighed heavily. He didn't really want to argue with his wife and he really didn't want to tell her he knew John Gage wouldn't answer his home phone because John Gage was lying half-dead in a bed in SICU at Rampart General. He picked up the receiver then put his fingers into the holes to dial the phone and paused, stricken. This time the chill running down his back turned and centered in his stomach, making him slightly nauseous. 'What's his number? I can't remember his number! My God! Has it been so long since I've called him that I can't even remember his number?' The very thought upset him as he saw the truth in it. The number that used to be as automatic as his own was now as foreign as if someone had asked him the one for Tokyo International.

Quickly he dialed the automated number for the time and temp, knowing his wife was watching him and wondering why he was stalling. He listened to the recording several times before looking at Jo and shrugging. "He's not answering." he said truthfully as he hung up the phone.

Uncomfortable with his lying actions, he muttered something about straightening the garage and left.

JoAnne waited until she heard noises in the garage before she crossed the kitchen to the phone alcove. She hated the feeling that her husband was lying to her, but with all the strange things that had been happening over the last month, she had to know for certain. She quickly dialed the familiar number and listened as the tones rang and rang with no answer. Several emotions raced through her- relief her husband had told the truth, disappointment that Johnny wasn't available, and anger that she was having to force this issue. She sighed heavily and hung up, muttering to herself. "I'll give you this one right now but we will settle this and soon. For all our sakes."

"Who you talking to, Mommy?" Jennifer's voice broke into her thoughts.

"No one." She automatically answered.

Jenny frowned, "Who was on the phone?"

Jo looked at her daughter and smiled, "No one. I was just trying to call Uncle Johnny and see if he'd like to come over for some brownies."

Jenny clapped her hands, "Oh Goody! Uncle Johnny loves brownies and I haven't seen him in forever! I want to show him my new Barbie! When will he be here?"

Jo sighed as she placed a cover over the brownies. "He's not coming, sweetheart. He wasn't home."

"Oh." She could hear the wealth of disappointment in that one word and turned toward her child. Jenny was the picture of dejection, her head down, her shoulders slumped, her lower lip protruding. Jo smiled as she knelt down and gently lifted her daughter's chin. "Hey hey, don't be sad. We'll try again later, OK?"

Jenny nodded and suddenly threw her arms around her mother's neck in a hug. "I miss him, Mommy." came her muffled voice.

Jo held her close as she sighed heavily. "So do I, sweetie, so do I."

Even though he was already in the garage, Roy hadn't pulled the door fully shut and had gone back to correct that and heard what had transpired in his kitchen. Anger boiled up in him again and he almost gratefully gave in to the rising tide of it.

'How dare she? She went behind my back and checked!' he thought. He grabbed the keys to his car and stuck his head into the kitchen.

"I've got some errands to run. I'll be back later. Don't wait supper; I might pick up something while I'm out." His sight barely registered the shocked look on his wife's face and the startled look on his daughter's before he slammed the door. He revved the engine of his Porsche and pulled out of the drive with a little more speed then necessary. Soon he was out of the residential areas and headed down the main streets.

He kept his anger under enough control to keep under the speed limit but he was taking corners a little fast and daring yellow lights. In his mind, he kept hearing all the unwanted advice that he felt had bombarded him over the last week. He could hear the irritating calm of Bob Schultz as he so easily forgave him for what Roy felt was a grave fault. He could hear Stoker's tirade in the station as well as the recent fight with JoAnne. He had no real direction planned as he muttered to himself. 'Everyone has an opinion of what I should do and how I should act. Well maybe I didn't want their opinions! Maybe I'm perfectly happy being just the way I am!' He groused, trying to convince himself of not only the justification of his thoughts but the truth of them. When he pulled into the parking area of Rampart, part of him was surprised and the other part formed a fast idea. 'This is all his fault! Well, I've had enough. Injured or not, I'm going to have a chat with one John Roderick Gage once and for all.'

Roy was still angry as he stormed down the silent hall of Rampart Hospital, angry over the words his wife had said, angry over the tranquility and acceptance of Bob Schultz over what Roy considered a fault in himself as well as others, angry over Stoker's unexpected tongue lashing, just angry.

The anger spurred Roy on as he snuck down the hall toward SICU. Roy paused by the door, seeing it was latched open. From his vantage point he could see the pale figure of his partner surrounded by machines within the room. Glaring at the still form, he focused all of his anger once more onto his partner's slender frame. It was Gage's fault, he was a menace. He was undisciplined, unruly, out of control . . .

Johnny remained unaware of his presence, and, as he had for the last two weeks, silently bore his friend's misguided anger. Johnny's eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling in the rhythm of sleep. His very lack of response seemed to aggravate Roy's feelings and his teeth clenched as tight as the fists by his side. Then, unbidden, Mike's words replayed in his ear. "Face it DeSoto, the real reason you're mad at Johnny has nothing to do with what he did or didn't do. The real reason is it was out of your control. You couldn't stop Jenny from getting hurt and you couldn't stop Johnny from getting hurt. You had no control over it; it was just an accident!"

He shook his head, banishing the words as he rebuilt his anger. He wouldn't tolerate it. No sir, he was master of his own house, ruler of his castle, his own life by God. Things would go as he wanted. He'd kick that no good uncontrollable non-conformist right out of his life on his skinny behind! So thinking, Roy worked himself up, breathing raggedly as he readied himself for action. He'd show Gage; Roy was the one in control . . .

Like a irritating recording, Bob Shultz's words cycled back again. 'It was an accident and sometimes accidents just happen, no matter what you do. I doubt there was anything short of stopping time that could have been done. I know that no matter how badly you never want to see them hurt sometimes we have no choice over it. Kids will be kids and accidents will happen. It's alright: I understand. It's really difficult to admit we have no control sometimes. Sometimes the main point of God's grace is that there are those around who can help once the accident happens.'

For the first time, Roy paused and let himself really think on the matter. Had Bob and Mike been right? Was all this anger he felt, all this resentment toward Johnny, was it all really because of what happened to Jenny? He remembered the sight of his daughter as she'd run to greet him, how he'd been thankful in that moment she was healthy and whole, then he remembered her plaintive voice telling her mother she missed Johnny. Roy took a deep breath and traced back. The anger, it had started the day the sheriff had told him about Jenny's injury. He felt the wave of fear close over him again but this time he forced himself to think it through.

She'd been hurt, yes.

It was bad, yes.

But.

It could have been much worse.

Johnny had been there; he'd known what to do and had done it. Roy remembered Dr. Bentley's praise over his partner's actions with Jenny and recalled how Dixie had chided him with, "Did you expect him to give any less than his best?" With a heavy heart, Roy admitted the truth. He knew John Gage, knew the paramedic he was and more importantly, knew how much his young partner loved that little girl. He knew Johnny'd never give anything less than his everything in her care. He'd known it all along but had refused to admit it.

Roy closed his eyes, letting himself sag weakly against the wall as the truth of the entire last sixteen days came to him at last. 'Oh God; they were right! Jo . . .and Mike! I've been such a fool!'

A slight noise from the bed caused Roy to reopen his eyes and he looked, really looked, at the man before him. Johnny's immobilized hands were lying by his sides, showing his sleep wasn't natural. Roy well knew Johnny slept with at least one arm over his eyes. The senior paramedic stepped a little closer and could now see the damage done to his partner's body. His eyes followed the IV line running from the pole into Johnny's battered chest. He could see the cuts, the bruises, the burns and yes, the heavily bandaged areas. He saw the cast on Johnny's right hand, hiding the multitude of stitches he knew was barely holding its form together. He saw the other hand, nearly as bandaged with only the thumb and first two fingers free. He noticed how the sheet pooled close to Johnny's body showing the thinness of it, could see the prominence of the exposed collarbones and shoulder joints from where Johnny's gown had slipped downward.

Warily, Roy allowed his gaze to travel up the still burn reddened neck with its shallower cuts to the face. Johnny's black hair framed his pale face. Other cuts, some deeper and stitched, angled over those sharp cheek bones. 'He's lost weight,' Roy thought. ' A lot of weight.' Something tickled his memory, something about hearing Mike tell Cap he was worried Johnny wasn't eating right even before the accident. Suddenly the whole ramifications of the entire incident hit him as hard as the explosion that had hit Johnny.

He could have died.

John Gage—his partner, his friend—could have died out there on that street, left with a paramedic inexperienced on how to help him because of his—Roy's—ego. All because Roy and only Roy knew how to do it right, unlike anyone else. Roy groaned as he realized his bid for control had done just the opposite. It had brought nothing but chaos and his bewildered friend had been pulled helplessly into the epicenter. Roy had had his illusion of control, while Johnny's life had spiraled out of control because of it.

Before him, Johnny stirred again, his head moving on the pillow as a low moan escaped him. Roy's face blanched nearly as pale as his wounded partner's and he turned quickly and left. Paused in the hall, Roy's eyes squeezed shut in nearly crippling guilt as he heard his partner's soft voice plaintively call out, "Roy?"

Roy reopened his eyes, took a deep breath and quickly left, heading back toward his car and his home. He just couldn't bring himself to face this man who had suffered so much because of him. In fact, Roy was just now becoming aware of how much Johnny had suffered because of him. Now he couldn't face him, not now . . .maybe not for a long time, if ever. Roy DeSoto knew he was taking the coward's way out but right now, it was all he could do.

Back in the room, Johnny looked around, wondering what had awakened him. He thought there was someone in his room. He thought it was Roy. 'Just imagined it,' he scolded himself. 'Get over it Gage. He doesn't care about you, probably never did. Face it.'

He scratched at the edge of one of the smaller cuts on his face and felt the sting of the burn. It had now been nearly thirty hours since he'd been injured. His last x-ray had looked good, no sign of blast lung. Brackett had allowed the nonrebreather to be switched to a nasal cannula and told him they would take another x-ray in the morning. If it was still good, they would move him from SICU. Brackett had also been pleased with his urine output, satisfied John's kidneys weren't showing damage from the blood loss. To Johnny's immense relief, the hated Foley had been removed and he'd been assisted to the bathroom.

The nausea had finally stopped and he'd managed to eat some jello and juice and keep it down. His doctors were pleased and had told him so. If they'd been disappointed in his lack of enthusiasm on their news, he didn't notice. But then, he hadn't really paid much attention either, answering their questions in mono-symbols and merely pretending he was listening.

Johnny sighed, looking around the room. 'I wanna go home. I'm tired and I want out of here. I wanna go home and just curl up in my own bed and . . . and just . . .'

He tightened his jaw, his decision made. He knew there would be arguments but he'd face them. Being controlled now by the Gage stubborn gene, John Gage made his silent plans.

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Roy knew just when Jo got up the next morning. When he'd gotten home the previous night, she'd already been in bed. He'd crawled in, mumbled an apology and kissed her cheek. She'd given him a sleepy half-smile and then rolled back over. Roy had laid there, awake and still, until well after he'd heard the morning paper delivered. Now it was hours later and his family's routine had started.

The remainder of the morning passed in much the same manner as the previous day. Roy worked on projects around the house and twice more called Johnny's silent house when his wife asked. Each time the guilt in his chest grew and finally, noticing the bleak look that would come over her husband's face each time, she stopped asking. 'Johnny must have gone camping or something. We'll try next break, He usually doesn't go anywhere on the 24 hours between those two shifts' she reasoned.

Johnny's Wednesday was very different from his partner's. He'd waken early, feeling stronger that he had the previous two days. He'd eaten a breakfast of part of a soft egg and some toast washed down with weak coffee. He napped until awaken by a nurse who checked his vitals. When she was finished, he was taken down for his third x-ray. When he got back to his room, he found Momma Lopez waiting for him.

Adelina made sure she was seated on Johnny's left side so he could hear her. She knew he'd damaged his right ear in the explosion and had temporary hearing loss, or at least they hoped it was temporary. She smiled at him as the orderly transferred him back to his bed. "Hola, mi hijo. You look much better today." He only nodded to her and her bright smile faltered. But she took a deep breath, strengthening her resolution to put on a happy front no matter what he did. Her friend, Dixie, had told her about how worried she was about his withdrawn attitude and in turn, Adelina had filled Dixie in on more of what had been happening to Johnny, including the picnic and afterwards. To say Dixie was now angry at Roy and Marc would have been an understatement.

Adelina reached down to the carry-bag by her feet and pulled out a plastic container. With pleasure she saw interest spark faintly in Johnny's eyes as she then placed the container on his tray and moved it closer to him.

He eyed it then faced her, still silent. She smiled brightly again and asked, "Well? Open it! It's for you." Carefully he reached for the top and she helped his clumsy two fingered actions by steadying the container. As the lid came off, the room immediately filled with the mouth-watering aroma of homemade soup. She noticed Johnny's nostrils flaring as he breathed deeply. She handed him a spoon, saying, "It's chicken and rice, made just the way you like it. Eat. I know you must be hungry." She leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, "You'd best hurry before one of the nurses or doctors smell it and take it away."

He gave a faint smile and carefully took the spoon. Adelina bit her lip, and worked hard on concealing her dismay at his marked weakness and stumbling efforts to use only his left hand. She could see how badly his hand shook as he tried handling the utensil but he finally managed to lift a decent spoonful up to his mouth. As he did, she hid a smile. She knew the nurses or doctors wouldn't take the offered food away since she and they had contrived this, hoping that feeling he was defying them a little would encourage the much too thin paramedic to eat.

She watched as more spoonfuls came after that first hesitant one and the small container was soon empty. Johnny placed the spoon on the tray and sat back with a satisfied sigh. He looked over at into the expectant face of his visitor. "Good." He finally said. "Gracias."

Her smile broadened. "You are always welcome, mi hijo. You should know that."

He nodded, he did know. He looked back toward the bag at her feet and asked, "You bring them?"

She nodded and put the bag up on the tray. Johnny reached into it, looking over the contents and nodding to himself.

"I brought them, Juanito, but I don't know why you wanted them now." Adelina shifted in her chair. She'd been uncomfortable with the phone call and requests she'd gotten the night before. "You know you must stay in the hospital for at least three more days. Dr. Brackett is worried."

"Brackett is always worried. That's his job." He pulled out the pair of sweats then paused at the frowning face of his foster parent. He pulled at the thin hospital gown and made a face. "I hate these."

She relaxed a little and nodded, "I can understand that. But the shoes . . .and socks."

"My feet get cold." He explained. "They have me walk and just socks are slippery."

Again she nodded, everything he said made perfect sense so why was her 'mother radar' going ballistic. Before she could press him further, a nurse pushing a tray filled with supplies entered the room. She smiled at Adelina and apologized. "I'm afraid I must ask you to leave, Mrs. Lopez. I must change Mr. Gage's bandages then the doctor will be making his rounds. If everything goes well, we will be moving Mr. Gage out of SICU."

Adelina turned bright eyes toward him and cried, "Oh mi hijo! That's wonderful!"

He forced a small smile and nodded his head. She stood, leaned over him and gave him a kiss on the forehead. With a smile she told him, "I'll see you later."

He merely nodded again and watched as she left the room before turning his attention back to the nurse and heaving a heavy sigh.

After all his wounds except his hands had been uncovered, he waited patiently for Dr. Brackett to appear. The dark haired doctor bustled into the room, his attention deeply on the chart he carried. He flipped through several pages then turned his attention to the body before him. He poked and prodded, listened and nodded as he completed his exam. Although his face never showed it, he was aware of Johnny's uncharacteristic wordless compliance. Finally, he made several notes on the chart then looked down into the brown eyes looking up at him. He smiled and was disappointed when Johnny didn't return the smile.

"Looking good Johnny." He told his patient. "The x-ray was still normal and your lungs are still clear so we can take you off the oxygen support. Your wounds are healing well. How is the headache?"

"'bout gone."

Brackett's mouth twitched but he merely nodded. "And your hearing?"

Johnny sighed. "Right ear still sounds like everything's underwater. Left ear is better."

Brackett eyed him, "Still ringing?"

Johnny gave a one shoulder shrug, "Off and on."

"Uh huh. Well Johnny, everything is looking great. I'll go ahead and give the order to move you off SICU. I think your progress had been good enough now."

Johnny didn't acknowledge this, he maintained his downcast stare.

With a sigh of his own, Brackett closed the chart. "Now Johnny," he began but was interrupted.

"It doesn't matter."

Brackett frowned and stared intently at the younger man before him. "What do you mean?"

"Whether you move me. It doesn't matter." Johnny's voice was flat and emotionless, just as Brackett noticed his eyes had been since he'd woken up.

Confusion was evident on the good doctor's face as he said, "I don't understand. What do you mean 'it doesn't matter.'"

This time Johnny raised his head and looked Brackett in the eye. "It doesn't matter because I'm not staying." He watched as the doctor tried to comprehend what he was saying and decided to cut to the chase with. "I'm leaving, Doc. I'm signing myself out. Today. Right now."