Ok! Here's another chapter and we are nearing the end. It's been great. Please let me know what you think and I'm so thankful for you loyal readers. The Kents are coming up in the next chapter. Be prepared!

It was early afternoon when Roy finally woke. Jo, who had been putting away laundry, heard him and entered the bedroom smiling. "Hey there sleepyhead. I was beginning to think we'd have to change your name to Rip Van Winkle."

Roy smiled as he pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her. They snuggled for a moment, then he asked, "Where's Jen?"

"Outside. Missy came over and when I checked on them last I saw they had their barbies in the sandbox playing 'beach'."

Roy nodded, then quietly asked, "Uhhh, did you …uhhh tell her. . .."

Jo nodded, her eyes sad. "Yes. She cried. She said she can't help make him better if he's in the hospital. I told her that the nurses there would see to it he was cared for. She finally settled down when I told her that later she should color some pictures for him for his room and then we'd make cookies to send to him."

Roy pulled her close again for another hug. "Yeah. That's good. He'll like that." He pulled away, running his hand through his hair. Jo busied herself around the room, straightening here and there, making the bed, waiting for what she knew her husband was going to say. Finally, she couldn't wait any longer. "No, no one's called." She looked up, catching his eye. "That's a good thing. Right?"

He folded her into his arms yet again as he sighed, "Yeah. Yeah I guess it is." She pulled away and patted his belly when it rumbled. "I have lunch nearly ready. I thought you might be getting hungry and we have all that . . ." She stopped as she thought of all the food in her fridge and why it was there.

Roy smiled at her, "Did I tell you Brackett told me to feed him anything? He said he didn't care what it was as long as he ate."

Jo recovered her emotions and put a scornful look on her face, "Well! He'd better eat! There's way too much down there for us to finish off."

She looked back up, her face now looking worried as she added, "You'll . .. you'll just have to start taking some in . . .and . . .and force him."

Roy smiled, "Don't worry; I will."

Once lunch was over, Roy found himself wondering around the house aimlessly. Before long, he was back in the sunroom. Slowly he sat in the recliner, his eyes on the now made up daybed. Almost he could see Johnny lying there, his face breaking into a slow grin as Roy teased him about something. His eyes fell on the BP cuff, the pad and paper and the thermometer sitting right where he left them. He sighed heavily.

He smelled her before he felt her hand on his shoulder. She didn't say anything, she knew what he was feeling. For a long moment, they stood there in mutual worry over their very sick friend. Then Jenny's voice called out, breaking the spell.

"Mommy? Can I wear my red shoes to the store?"

"That would be fine, Jenny." Jo called back then smiled at her husband who had finally turned to her. "Jenny and I are running to the grocery to pick up stuff for the cookies. Do you need anything?"

He shook his head and she kissed him softly before she left. Roy listened to the sound of his family leaving the house and Jo's car driving away. Finally he couldn't stand it any longer. It had now been over 8 hours since he'd last seen or heard about his partner. With determination, he picked up the phone and instinctively dialed a familiar number.

"Emergency Room, Nurse McCall speaking."

"Dix? Hi, This . . . this is Roy. Uhhhh, .. ."

"Well hi Roy! Yes. He's here. Did you want to speak with him?"

Roy blinked, surprised at her words. Then a cold chill raced down his spine. "Dixie, has something happened with Johnny?"

"Yes, that's right."

His heart sank. "Is . . .is he . . ."

"No. Not at all. Yes, I can put you through to Kel's office right now." Her voice hinted strongly and Roy steeled himself. "Yeah, yeah Dix. I want to talk to him."

The head nurse's voice was soft now, the business-like tone gone. "I'll put you straight through, Roy. I'm sure you'll find you" she stressed the word, "were right."

Now Roy understood. He closed his eyes as he wiped a hand across his face. The next thing he heard was Brackett's deep voice.

"Dr. Brackett."

"Johnny's waking up, isn't he. And he's upset." Roy didn't waste any time.

A heavy sigh came over the line. "Yes. Roy, it seems you were right yet again." he tried a soft chuckle, "When am I gonna learn to listen to you where that partner of yours is concerned?"

Roy didn't comment so Brackett continued. "Yes. As soon as we started to reduce the medication, he began trying to surface. He seems to be having some pretty intensive dreams and for a while we were at a bit of a quandary. Did we sedate him again before he reinjured himself? Or did we cut the medication completely and bring him up faster."

"And your decision?"

"Roy, he's fighting any and all medications now. He's wearing himself out so we really didn't have a choice but to push him to be more alert." Again the sigh. "But that's not working either. And the fever is back up, the infection is running rampant and his vitals are still dropping."

That was all he needed. "Doc, I'm coming in."

Brackett's voice hardened, "Now Roy. I meant what I said. You need . . ."

"Johnny needs me. Now. I've slept nearly 8 hours and I've had two good meals. That's more than I usually get on shift." He argued. Then he softened his voice, his eyes closed. "Please Doc."

Silence.

Then, "Alright." Roy blew out a breath. "But just for a few hours. I want you to go back home tonight. Understand?"

Roy nodded. At this point he would agree to just about anything. "Yeah. Yeah I understand. I'll be right there." Before Brackett could say anything else, the phone went dead. Kel looked at the phone in his hand, then hanging it up, looked at the nurse perched on the edge of his desk. "You set that up." He accused.

She shrugged. "Roy was right when he said Johnny would wake up faster then you and Ken thought. You both were so sure his weakness and the sedatives in his system would keep him out at least another 24 hours. It's only been since 7 this morning, he's had one other light dose and he's awake." She reminded him. "I think it's really the fever that's making him incoherent at this point, not the meds." She picked a pencil up from the desk and tapped it's tip on the chart before the doctor. "You know from the past how fevers seem to affect our young friend." Both paused, remembering the virus that had infected both Johnny and Brackett, sending both into a coma and very nearly—death.

His mouth twitched, knowing everything she said was true but unwilling to voice it. "And," she shook a pencil at him, "Roy's right about this as well. Johnny needs him." With that, she put the pencil down and went back to her station. She knew that soon Roy would come rushing in and she had every intention of escorting him up to Johnny's room personally.

Roy hurried down the hall toward Johnny's room. Dixie had met him as he'd come in, fully intending on coming with him but just then calls started coming in from several squads and the nurse was needed. Now Roy headed quickly toward his partner's room alone, Part of him still resented that Dixie and his wife had double-teamed him, forcing him to go home and rest. But part of him acknowledged that he did feel better and calmer. He knew that could only benefit his partner.

No nurses were at the station so Roy went straight to the door leading to Johnny's cubicle. He pushed his way through and stopped as his eyes fell again on his partner. Johnny lay there shivering, his naked body lying on one cooling blanket with a thin sheet over it and another sheet and cooling blanket on top of him. His eyes were closed but Roy could see the movement beneath the blued lids. He tossed his head back and forth as he mumbled, pulling at his restrained hands, pulling his legs up then dropping them down.

Roy quickly surged on into the room, his hand going immediately to his friend's chest. "Johnny. Relax. Take it easy partner. Come on, Junior relax." To Roy's relief, some of the movement stopped. Johnny stopped pulling at the restraints with his arms but his legs still twitched and shifted. Roy squeezed Johnny's naked shoulder and began talking.

Johnny peeked out from his corner between the couch and the wall. He was safe here. Taŋkaŋsidaŋ had told him so. He'd even shaken the eagle feather over it and said the blessing words. He'd even let Johnny help. Johnny shivered anyways as his aunt's shrill voice seemed to cut straight into his body. "It's just another useless mouth to feed. We can barely take care of our own now as it is! Why Ate insists on having that . . .that taku here is . . ."

"That boy is not a thing, that's Joseph's only child. He is family!" His uncle insisted, but his voice was smoother, comforting, not tearing on Johnny's nerves like Auntie Crow's was.

Aunt Crow made a harsh sound. Johnny flinched involuntarily then the remembered words of his older cousin, Russell caused him to give a faint smile. "You hear Auntie Charlotte's voice? You hear how shrill it is?" Russell had told him while they sat on a mud bank one day, their lines dangling in the cool waters below their feet.

"You know how it makes the skin crawl up your back?" The older boy grinned down into the large brown eyes looking up at him. He was glad he'd taken his little cousin out if the house on this supposed fishing trip. Their grandfather's latest illness was upsetting to everyone, but more so to his frightened cousin who only recently lost his only living parent. He hoped the boy didn't know some of the things being said about him, but he didn't have too much hope that was the case. And so he took the child with him, taught him things and tried to buffer him as much as the teen could. And like their shared grandfather, he found the boy intelligent, inquisitive and a fast learner. He leaned closer, looking into those dark eyes, watching them widen even more and dilate.

Johnny nodded up at his cousin, his face serious. Russell smiled and leaned closer to conspiratorially whisper, "That's why her Indian name is Speaks like Crow. She thinks it means she has Crow's wisdom." He laughed as he ruffled his little cousin's dark hair, "But we all know different."

Since that day, Johnny had only thought of his aunt by her Indian name, although he knew better than address her that way. Even though she knew he could speak the tribal language, each time she heard him use it, she slapped him, saying that to have the sacred words come out of his . . . ummmm. . . uncouth . . .(was that right?) mouth was an insult to the ancestors. He'd asked Russell about that and didn't understand the sad look the older boy gave him. He'd patted his little cousin on the head and told him, "Maybe it's just better to use the white's tongue around her." He stroked the bruised cheek, "It'll save your face."

His aunt's voice brought him back to the conversation he was trapped into hearing. He'd only been heading to the kitchen for an apple. He was hungry; things had been very busy today and no one had offered him food from the mound brought in by concerned friends and neighbors. He'd had to stay out of sight, away from the dark stares and his aunt's heavy hand. He sighed, he knew that if Taŋkaŋsidaŋ was there, or even Russell, he could have gotten a sandwich or something. Even if he could have said something to Uncle Dale, he was sure he could have at least gotten some bread and maybe something to drink.

But ever since Taŋkaŋsidaŋ had stayed in his bed the last two days, Auntie Crow had been in the house, bossing people around with her shrill cawing. He'd almost made it into the kitchen this last time when he heard her coming in through the back door, yelling at her husband. Johnny had ducked quickly into his safe spot and it was there he sat shivering as much with fright as with cold.

"That creature is not Joseph! Ate is getting addled in his illness. He thinks it's Joseph as a child again. Joseph is dead! Long dead and now dust. That taku in there is nothing of him."

For the first time that he could ever remember, Johnny heard his Uncle Dale raise his voice to his wife. "That child in there is as much a part of Joseph as your own Mary is a part of you! And as such Johnny is a part of Ate as well. Your father loves the boy for who he is, not just because he is Joe's son. And as long as this is his house, the boy will be part of the family and will be treated as such."

He could hear the shrieking Charlotte was making now as she stuttered in her anger. "It won't be long! When Ate is gone, this will be my house and things will change!" Then he heard the backdoor slam so hard, the wall shook. He laid quietly down, willing his hurting belly to be still. As it so often did, it betrayed him. He heard the chair scrap across the kitchen floor and he darted out from his safe spot, racing for the stairs.

But a hand caught him on the shoulder: he sobbed in panic as he was grabbed back and turned around.

The hand grabbed his shoulder and he tried to squirm away but another hand bathed his hot face with a cool cloth. A soothing voice comforted him, "Relax partner, you're safe. I'm here with you now. You're safe. Can you open your eyes for me? Come on Johnny, open your eyes."

'Safe, I'm safe. In my safe spot.' Johnny thought, letting the comforting voice and the cool cloth soothe him back into sleep.

Roy sighed, "Almost, Partner. You almost woke up that time. I'm glad whatever dream you were having is over though. Alright, you rest easy for a while. I'll wait right here."

And so most of the evening passed. Roy watched as Johnny would pass from fearful dreams, where he would either try to pull himself into a small ball, or would twitch and move his limbs as if struggling to get away from something. Each time Roy would stroke his face and neck with the wet cloth, talking quietly to him until Johnny would give a great sigh and relax. He sipped the coffee the nurse had brought in for him. If nothing else, they said Johnny was getting more restful sleep with him there. And his temperature had ceased its relentless climb. It had even started to go slowly down.

"Maybe that new antibiotic Doc put you on is finally working, huh Junior?" He told his friend and saw with surprise that tiny slits of brown eyes were looking at him. He leaned closer, "Johnny? Johnny? Come on Junior, wake up. Open those eyes a little more." But instead they slid shut once more and Roy sat back with another sigh.

A few more times, Johnny slit his eyes open, several times he murmured something in Dahkota that Roy couldn't catch, but that was all. Once he thought he heard his friend whisper "ma-kte" but it could have been something else, at least he prayed he heard something else. Roy knew some Dahkota from being around Johnny but he wasn't anywhere near fluent in it. But he knew "ma" was a personal pronoun and . . . Johnny had once told him "kte" meant killed.

And so Johnny drifted, torn between memories of the past, dreams of past rescues that might have gone wrong and small tiny moments when he saw a blurry face in a white room.

Yet again the blissful darkness of unconsciousness lifted. This time Johnny looked around and found himself, trapped, in the bottom of a deep hole. His body ached from the beating he'd received obviously earlier. He flinched as he saw again the hands coming down to strike him. Hands, all different sizes and shades, hands all around him reaching down from the darkness, trying to grab him. Confused and more than a little scared, Johnny cringed away from them, trying to make himself small and heavy, trying to keep away from their reaching grasps. Then out of that same darkness came voices which he instantly knew went with these hands.

"Easy, pal, we just want to help."

"Gee, Gage, lighten up. Ya know the phantom would never kick his pigeon when he's down."

"It's OK Johnny, we're only concerned for you."

"Mi hijo, dear one, relax. Everything'll be fine."

"Juanito, hermano, we're here for you."

"Relax, phoenix, you're alright."

"Uncle Johnny? Can we help you?"

Then a soft female voice and a very familiar male voice came, "It's ok Johnny. You just relax and get better. We love you."

"Easy, junior. Calm down. We're here for ya."

As he listened to the words, he stopped fighting and trying to escape and sat still, letting the hands finally reach him. They caressed his body, easing his pain and quenching the fire in his body then began to slowly and gently pull him out of the darkness, up, upward into the light.

Roy sipped yet another cup of coffee and gazed at the clock on the wall. The sky out the window was totally dark, the earlier colors of sunset now all gone. It was now after 8 and Roy knew that soon someone would come in and order him to leave. He knew that Doctor Brackett was as worried about his own healing as he was Johnny's but he also knew he would've agreed to just about anything to come in and sit these last 4 hours with his friend. However, he also knew that Brackett was serious about him going home to sleep or he would be banned from Johnny's side. He looked back down at the sleeping man. For the last hour, Johnny had been peaceful, his sleep so far undisturbed. He laid a gently hand again on his friend's shoulder.

"I'll have to leave soon, Johnny. I'd really like you to wake up before then, but I guess you're being stubborn again. Brackett's gonna force me out of here. I'd rather stay; you know that don't you? But if I try, Brackett threatened to have me sedated."

"Not . . enough room . . . in bed for . . . us both." Came a weak voice.

Roy jumped up, sending the chair scooting backward. He leaned closer to the bed, his eyes glued to his partner's seemingly asleep face. "Johnny?"

"Hmmm?" came the answer although his eyes stayed closed.

Roy hesitated, not sure if his friend was aware or dream-talking. "Are you awake? Can you open your eyes and look at me?"

Johnny sighed. "Tha's more eff'rt than worth . . ." Johnny slurred. Roy grinned as he squeezed his friend's naked shoulder.

"Johnny! You are awake!"

"If you say so," This time Johnny's eyes fluttered and finally slid open. He blinked, trying to focus on his friend's smiling face. His lips stretched slightly into an answering grin.

"Welcome back Junior! You've been gone a long time."

Johnny grimaced, "Feels like it too." He shook his head, "Don't go there, notta nice place."

Roy laughed, his soul bubbling with happiness at this conversation. Johnny tried to look around, but his eyes rolled tiredly. "Roy? Wha . . ."

Roy pressed his hand down on Johnny's shoulder. "You're in SICU. Your fever has been still pretty high. They took you off the sedation. That's all you need to know right now."

Johnny made a non-committal sound, his eyes sliding back shut again. Roy wasn't really disappointed: he knew his friend was still very weak. But he'd got to talk to him, see his eyes open and for now that was enough. "That's ok, partner, you just go on back to sleep."

Johnny shifted his head slightly then sighed again. Roy watched as his body relaxed and his face was again slack with sleep. The sound of the door behind him opening finally pulled Roy's gaze from his friend's face. To his pleasure, Gretchen grinned at him.

"Gretchen? What are you doing here?"

The ole WAVE nurse smiled at him. "One of my ba . . . nurses called in, so I get to spend the night shift with our boy here." She placed her fingers against his neck, "How's he been?"

"He just woke up. He spoke to me then went back to sleep." Roy's voice rang with its pleasure and Gretchen noticed his hand never left his friend's shoulder. She hid a smile as she recorded the pulse and respirations on the chart, then reached for the thermometer.

"That's good. I knew it wouldn't be as long as those doctors said." She looked up at the firefighter, knowing he'd voiced the same concerns. "His vitals are a little stronger too. Now let's see about that temp." As she spoke, she slipped the piece of glass between the dark haired man's lips like she had so many times before. Only this time, Johnny's face crinkled up at the alcohol taste and brown eyes slit open. She smiled, "Well! Hello there Liebchen!"

His lips stretched into a faint smile and he voiced, "Gret . . .chen. Sorry . ."

She leaned closer to hear his weak voice, "Sorry? Why? Just what have you to be sorry for Johnny?"

His eyes shifted around the room as he answered, "This. . . being. . .back."

Both Roy and Gretchen immediately moved to comfort their friend. "No, Johnny there is nothing to be sorry for. The only thing we want is for you to get better." Roy squeezed his shoulder as he spoke.

"Nonsense, liebchen, you've got no reason to be apologizing. I told you before, my whole objective is to get people off my floor because that means they're better. Now, hush up so I can get a temp." With that she placed her hand on his jaw and firmly pushed it shut.

Johnny blinked slowly at them, then gave a nod. His eyes closed and his breathing eased out. Gretchen timed the three minutes then pulled the glass stick from where she held it in Johnny's mouth. Roy held his breath as she turned the tube, trying to see the line within. Finally he couldn't stand it any longer and burst out with, "Well?"

She nodded, shook it down, wiped it off and replaced it into its container on the table. She marked the chart then faced Roy who was practically prancing with anxiety.

"It's down more. 103 even."

Roy sagged, his eyes closing as his shoulders slumped. Finally, maybe finally, his friend was getting better. Now. His eyes opened and his gaze settled on the ugly open wound Gretchen was now inspecting, changing the dressings on. Now if it was in time to save his hand.

Even as he was thinking those thoughts he felt a hand on his arm and turned. "Roy. Time for you to go home." Dixie looked up at him. She smiled gently, "Don't worry, Gretch and I will take good care of Johnny."

Roy protested, as they both knew he would, stating that even the nurses had documented that Johnny had slept better while he was there. Gretchen didn't say anything, Dixie was the one who insisted. Finally, weary and admittedly hungry, the senior paramedic gave him. He walked back over to this friend, laid his warm hand on Johnny's shoulder and bent down to whisper into his partner's ear. "They're running me off, Johnny. I have to go. You just remember that you're safe and you just sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

With one last look at a the form in the bed, Roy sighed and left the hospital. Once he got home, he found his wife waiting on him, dinner warmed and ready as well as her warm arms and willing ears. Together they laughed and cried, celebrating Johnny's return to consciousness and fearing what still laid ahead for him.

Although Roy felt relieved by actually talking to Johnny, he knew the hard part would come after the doctors talked to the injured paramedic. Brackett had told him that neither he nor Bentley were pleased with the infection in Johnny's hand. Although there had been healing while he was sedated, over the last day there were signs the infection was changing. When Gretchen had opened up the wound earlier, Roy had felt his heart freeze in his chest. Gretchen had looked up, caught his own look and had nodded sadly.

There, extending from the wound site, slowly marking up Johnny's wrist, were the faint beginnings of red streaks. Both knew that was a sign the infection could be getting into his bloodstream. And both knew if that happened, it would kill Johnny. The doctors would have no choose. In order to try and stop the infection—and hopefully save Johnny's life—they would have to take the hand.

So when Roy woke the next morning, he had a few moments of blissful peace until everything that had happened the day before, and all the possible ramifications, came crashing down on him once more. He rose, showered, shaved, and went down to the wonderful smelling breakfast waiting for him.

As he entered the kitchen, Jo looked up, smiled and handed him a cup of coffee. He took it along with a kiss. He sat at his place, sipping the warm brew, lost in thought. A hand repeatedly tapping his am finally got his attention and he looked over at his daughter with a smile. "I'm sorry honey, what?"

Jenny looked at him, "You're worried about Uncle Johnny." She stated. Jo caught her husband's eyes and gave a faint shrug. Roy sighed, "Yes honey. I'm worried about Uncle Johnny. But!" And he grinned big, "He's awake now. I talked with him."

"Good!" Jenny squealed, "Now you can take him the cookies Mommy and I made and he will eat them and get strong and come home!"

He grabbed her up in a hug as he heard his wife murmur softly. "Form your lips to God's ears." To which he added his own silent 'Amen'. Then he plopped the squirming girl back into her chair just as his wife turned with a skillet in her hand. She dished fluffy scrambled eggs onto the three dishes, put the skillet back on the turned off eye, and grabbed the plate containing the sausages and the toast from the counter before sitting down.

For several minutes, the family ate in silence then Jenny said, "I miss Chris, Mommy. When's he coming home?"

Jo pointed to the date circled in red on the calendar. "Not for another three days. See? Today is Thursday and Chris comes home from Scout Camp on Saturday." Roy found his eyes caught on the dates and marks on the calendar. His shift was clearly marked, with the days on and off. His eyes caught on the 1st with its note 'Jenny stitches'. God! Had it really only been a month that all this had happened? It felt like years but the marks on the calendar were clear. There was the day Johnny was hurt, now 10 days passed, and the day Jo had brought him home—just a week tomorrow.

"Chris doesn't know anything about Uncle Johnny Mommy, does he?" That question brought Roy back from his thoughts.

"No Honey, he doesn't" Roy told her, "But when we all go up to the camp and get him, we'll tell him then. And maybe . . ." He looked at his wife, seeing the hope in her eyes as well, "Maybe by then Uncle Johnny will be well enough that we can all go up and visit him together."

Jenny nodded enthusiastically, "That's what I've been praying for every night and every morning. I just know God is listening too. He'll make Uncle Johnny well again. Father says God always answers prayer." Roy felt his wife's hand close around his and he gave it a gentle squeeze. Again silent, the family finished their meal.

As Roy walked down the now too familiar halls toward the SICU, he couldn't shake the heavy feeling in his stomach. Something in him just knew something had happened. And he was dreading it more and more the closer he got to Johnny's room.

As he neared the room, he saw Gretchen coming out, frowning. She saw him and made a stopping motion. They met by the nursing station. "Gretchen, how is he?" Roy's tone was clearly anxious.

A smile flickered in Gretchen's eyes at his concern but wasn't strong enough to dispel the frown. Roy held his breath in worried anticipation.

"He's more coherent than yesterday." She finally answered. Roy let out the pent up breath, relieved to hear that news. Then he frowned as what the nurse reported didn't jive with her actions coming out of the room. "And?" he asked expectantly. Gretchen looked back at the room as she answered, "And he's more coherent than yesterday." She placed a strange accent on "coherent."

Roy was puzzled and his face showed it. He'd heard what she said, then it registered how she'd said each sentence. He understood. His friend was now aware of just how bad things were.

Gretchen saw the understanding in the blanching of Roy's face and nodded. "Drs. Brackett and Bentley were in earlier and talked with him."

"How's he handling it?" Roy was surprised his voice sounded nearly normal. His insides felt like they'd all dissolved with her words.

"He's been awake for the last three hours and he hasn't moved at all."

Roy glanced toward the room, "Not any?"

Gretchen sadly shook her head, "He's been sitting there, staring at his hand all morning. Not moving, not talking, nothing."

Roy sighed and nodded his head. He moved past the nurse, stopping when her hand rested on his shoulder. He looked down into her worried blue eyes. "Be with him. He needs you now more than ever."

Roy nodded, and briefly touched her hand with his before he squared his shoulders and pushed into Johnny's room.

Johnny was just like Gretchen had said, his body propped up at a 45 degree angle, his gaze fixed on the apparatus that held his right arm hostage. He barely appeared to be breathing. He didn't move at all as Roy stopped by his side. Roy laid a gentle hand on his partner's right shoulder, "Johnny."

Johnny didn't move but he did inhale a little deeper. His eyes still on his hand, he whispered. "Roy. They told me."

Roy nodded and translated that into a slight pat of his hand.

"It . . . they said . . . ummm . . . Brackett . . . I might . . ." Johnny stopped and started, then gave a deep inhalation sounding too much like a sob for his sympathetic friend.

"I know." Roy kept his voice even, even though the frog in his throat tried to hold the words back. "But look at it this way . . ." he paused, waiting.

When the pause lengthen, he saw Johnny blink and as if cued, he continued. "You should still be able to fall back on your second career."

Johnny sighed as if knowing his friend was trying to make him feel better but his face showed that it was failing miserably.

"Roy, I . . ."

Before he could even get the thought out, Roy interrupted, "I mean, you might never be a big name rock star drummer again, but you can always fall back on being a paramedic. I'd gladly take you back in the squad as a partner anytime."

That got Johnny's attention and he broke his stare to swivel his head up to look at his friend, his eyes wide in confusion. Then the words—and the meaning behind them—hit him. Roy watched as the varied expressions raced across Johnny's gaunt face. First his mouth trembled as his lips twitched, undecided in whether to frown or smile. His dark eyes filled with tears as he blinked rapidly. He gave a bark of a laugh. That release was all his emotions needed to break the constriction he'd held over them.

Johnny's eyes ran over and his breath came out in a soft moan. Roy sat quickly on the bedside, and reached out, pulling the younger man tightly to him as Johnny let his feelings out. He softly rubbed the younger man's back, his own eyes tearing in empathy as Johnny sobbed brokenly. "Mikokipa, Roy, mikokipa."

"I know partner. Let it all out." He soothed. "I know you're scared, I am too. But we'll get through this; no matter what the final outcome, you have us. All of us."

Roy let Johnny cry until his sobs eased and he felt his friend growing limp in his arms. Johnny's head now rested on Roy's shoulder and he could feel his breath, with the occasional hitches still in it, fan his neck. He waited for several more moments, holding his friend, giving comfort while the very act of comforting Johnny comforted Roy as well. Then he reached with one hand and lowered Johnny's bed before lowering Johnny back into it. Johnny's eyes were closed, his breathing deep and mostly even. Roy knew his weakened friend had exhausted himself what with the worry after the doctor's visit and now with this emotional release.

"It's alright partner, I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this together. All of us. Just like I told you." Roy whispered as he used the sheet to wipe the drying tears from his friend's cheeks. He placed his hand back on Johnny's shoulder, keeping that contact with his sleeping friend, his own mind lost in thought.

An hour had passed and Roy felt Johnny stir, his head moving on the pillow as he tried to wake up. Roy patted him softly, "Its ok, Johnny. Relax." He was at war with himself, part of him knew Johnny needed the sleep and didn't want his friend to wake up too soon. The other selfish part wanted those brown eyes to open so that he could see how Johnny was doing.

Movement behind him caught his attention and he turned to look up into Gretchen's soft smile. "Good. You got him to sleep. He needs it." She handed him a fresh cup of coffee then turned her attention to her patient.

"How's he doing?" Roy whispered as the experienced nurse quickly did a vitals check without disturbing the sleeping man.

"Better. His vital signs are a little stronger now. His breathing has been better. And his temp is . . ." She pulled the thermometer from under Johnny's arm. She hadn't wanted him to wake up from the alcohol taste. She smiled as she read it and calculated. "Still down. 101.6 axillary."

Roy let out a great sigh. The signs were better. He looked pointedly at the dressings on Johnny's hand.

"No real change. But it's not worse." She told him. Then she patted his arm. "You got him to talk . . and to sleep. Now get him to eat."

Roy grinned as he nudged the bag at his feet. "As soon as he wakes." Gretchen smiled, "Good boy." And with that she left and Roy settled in to wait.

Almost another hour had passed before Johnny's eyes fluttered open. He looked over at his partner and a slow smile spread across his face. Roy smiled back, "Hey, Junior. Feeling better?"

Johnny shifted and Roy instantly helped reposition the bed and him in it. "Yeah." He then ducked his head, "Sorry."

Roy placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Don't be. That's what friends are for." Brown eyes looked up into blue ones. Silent communication passed between the two men. Johnny gave a faint nod at the worry/trust/friendship he saw reflected back at him and Roy felt reassured at the light of life he now saw glowing in his friend's eyes.

"Are you hungry? I brought along some of the food everyone's left you at home." Roy turned and pulled up the bag, placing it on the table and rolling it over closer.

Johnny hesitated, "I . . I don't know."

Roy looked at his thin friend, seeing the bones pushing so prominently against the paper-thin skin, his normal coppery tanned complexion looking sallow and sickly. "Johnny you need to eat."

Johnny nodded, knowing that was true. But he also remembered the pain of retching after the surgery. It wasn't something he felt he had the strength to go through right now.

Roy somehow knew just what Johnny was thinking. "Johnny, that was most like just reaction from the anesthesia, you know that. Here. I brought some broth from the chicken and rice soup. Let's try that first and see how you do, ok?"

Johnny nodded and Roy prepared the food. "Thanks Roy." Johnny said as his friend held the cup to his face. He took a careful sip at the flavorful broth within, holding it in his mouth and letting it dribble down his throat.

"Johnny? You ok? No nausea?" Roy looked worried.

Johnny shook his head just as his stomach growled. Johnny's face flushed as Roy chuckled, "Ok. I'll take that as a no."

Johnny rolled his eyes but eagerly took the next swallow. "You don't know how good this tastes right now." He said.

Roy smiled, "I've got an idea. Jo and I had some of it yesterday for lunch. Momma Lopez makes a wonderful Chicken and Rice." Johnny nodded in agreement.

Roy took the spoon and got a small amount of rice. He spooned that into his friend's mouth. Over the next few minutes little was said as Roy fed him. Then Roy noticed that Johnny's eyes were growing heavy again. He placed the remainder of the soup back onto the tray and lowered Johnny's bed. "Sleep now. I'll still be here."

Johnny gave a faint nod, his eyes closed. Roy finished off the rest of the soup, knowing he had more items to tempt Johnny's palate in his bag. He'd come well prepared.

As Roy suspected, Johnny only napped, awake again before the hour was finished. Roy feed him bits of frybread as they talked.

"I wish you'd been here this morning went Brackett and Bentley were here." Johnny ducked his head, "I . . I guess I was so upset over what they were saying, I kinda missed all they were saying."

Roy felt bad. If he'd known about the meeting, he certainly would have been there. But just hearing his friend admit that as well, made him feel better. "I'm here now. Next time he comes in, you'll remember." He told him as he tore off another piece and held it out. When Johnny opened his mouth, Roy plopped it within. Johnny was silent for several moments as he chewed and swallowed. Roy offered him some water and he drank deeply from the straw. Then he settled back with a sigh.

"Frankly, I was sorta surprised when I woke up and saw it was still there." He glanced at his hand and a shudder shook his body. Roy very carefully and deliberately turned Johnny's chin so his gaze was no longer on his restricted limb but back facing Roy. Johnny's chin trembled in Roy's hand. "It . . . it doesn't look . . ."

"It looks horrid." Roy agreed seeing first the stricken look in those coffee dark eyes then that faded to a look of concurrence. "But you and I both have seen as bad and worse and we both know you can't tell by that. Those who we thought wouldn't heal have."

Johnny nodded, knowing that was true. Roy smiled as he gently shook the chin he still held. "And you, my dear friend, are too stubborn to have it any other way than fully healed." Johnny grinned slowly, his eyes showing his thanks at the confidence his partner expressed even if he didn't feel the same way—yet.

Roy noticed Johnny's eyes were becoming a little unfocused and his blinking was getting slower and longer. He released his face and gently pushed the dark haired man back, readjusting the bed so it reclined more. "Sleep Johnny. I'll be right here when you wake."

Johnny acquiesced, his eyes sliding shut, his body relaxing. Roy settled back with his fresh coffee, content in the day. Johnny was awake and eating. His vitals at each check were growing stronger and his temperature continued to stay low grade. Finally, finally, his friend was getting better. Blood had been drawn earlier and the doctors were waiting for the lab results before they would come up and talk to their patient this afternoon. But Roy had a feeling it would now be good news; he could just feel it in his soul.