"Jim's home now," Susan said.
Looking up from his magazine, TJ said, "That's good."
"Dom's staying at Jim's place for a couple of days. The doctor didn't want Jim to be alone." Susan poured a glass of wine. TJ had a beer – his fourth.
"That's a good idea." TJ stood and walked out on the patio.
"You going to go see them?" Susan stood just behind TJ.
"It's late. Not tonight. Some other time."
"They don't blame you, TJ." Susan watched as TJ stilled.
"They don't have to."
With quiet tears in her eyes, Susan turned and went back inside.
###
Unable to sleep with his stomach growling, Jim slipped on a pair of jeans and crept into the living room, hoping not to disturb Dom on the couch. Having a roomie made midnight fridge raids more difficult, but it sure as hell beat staying in the hospital.
The dark and his limited eyesight made Jim hesitate, disoriented in his own apartment. Starting again, he walked into a chair that had been moved to accommodate Dom. He muffled a curse, bent down and felt his way around the chair. Straightening, he walked into clothes Dom had hanging from the ceiling light fixture. The fabric brushing against his face freaked out Jim. He swung out, spun around. Dizzy and confused, he fell to the floor, still fighting the clothing.
Dom turned on the lamp by the couch. "Jim?"
"Damn," Jim mumbled, tossing the clothes aside and sitting up. He rubbed his left temple as the familiar throb began.
"You got pills somewhere?" Dom asked, tossing his clothes on the coffee table, noticing how pale Jim looked.
"I don't want pills." Jim crawled over to the chair and eased into it, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. Below the string of stitches, his swollen left eye sported the multi-colored hues of healing.
"Then don't scare me like that." Dom's voice slapped out with frustration.
Jim's right eye popped open. "Sorry."
"Shit." Dom ran his hand through his hair. "You okay now?"
"I'm fine." Jim closed his eye again. "Not up to dancing with your clothes yet, I guess. Makes it throb." He rubbed his temple more. "You?"
Dom grunted and paced into the kitchen. "Want a beer?"
"Yeah."
###
"I'm coming, geez." Dom tripped over the chair that seemed to roam around the room at will. He cursed lightly, stumbling to the phone.
"Street's apartment," Dom said into the receiver. He blinked, glaring at the clock in the kitchen. Twenty after one. He'd been asleep for a whole hour.
"Dom?"
"Susan?" Worry etched Dom's forehead. "What's wrong?"
"It's TJ. Can you and Jim come talk to him? He's been drinking. Again." Susan stopped to catch her breath. "He's talking crazy. Please."
Dom rubbed the back of his neck, not liking the desperation in Susan's voice. "We'll be right there."
"Thank you, Dom. Please hurry."
"We will. Be calm, Susan. Just be calm."
"I'm trying."
Dom hung up the phone and winced, hearing a thud in the living room followed by sharp cursing. He turned on the kitchen light. "Shit."
"I'm all right." Jim shoved the spare chair across the room and stood up. "Who's on the phone?"
"Uh, that was Susan." Dom pulled on his slightly rumpled clothes from the coffee table. "She's worried about TJ and wants us to go over and talk to him."
Jim blinked, trying to concentrate on the clock. "Now?"
"You can go back to sleep. I'll go." Dom sat to put on his shoes.
"No. No, I'll go, too." Jim jogged back to his bedroom. "What all did she say?" he called out.
"TJ's drinking and talking crazy, according to her."
Jim emerged, looking for his keys. Dom jangled his car keys. "Let's go."
###
Jim rapped lightly on the door, and waited. And waited. Just as he was about to knock again, the door opened a crack.
"Just a minute," Susan whispered. The sounds of a chain lock rattled and the door opened wider.
Susan's eyes misted. "I really hate calling you guys out here so late. I didn't know who else to call. I don't want to get TJ into trouble."
"It's okay, Susan," Dom said. He smiled reassuringly. "Where is he?"
"On the patio." She stepped back and they went straight through to the back patio.
"What're you doing here?" TJ said.
"We were in the neighborhood," Jim said. He sat at the plastic outdoor table.
"Sure you were." TJ slurred the 's'. "You, too?" He looked back and saw Dom, nearly toppling his chair.
"Yeah, me, too." Dom sat across from TJ.
"Hey, Susan," Jim called. "Bring Dom and me a beer."
"Those are mine," TJ said when Susan set the open bottles in front of Dom and Jim.
Jim chugged his beer, belched loudly, and asked for another.
"Now wait a minute." TJ tried to stand, but decided to remain seated.
Dom gave Jim a questioning look. Jim gave a quick nod in TJ's direction – silently cueing Dom to follow his lead.
"Not in a sharing mood, TJ, ol' buddy?" Jim asked.
"You guys should go home." TJ stated.
"What, so you can drink all the beer?" Jim slammed his bottle on the table. "Maybe we want to join your party."
"Yeah," Dom said, guzzling his beer.
"What party?" TJ asked, confused.
"Looks like you're having one hell of a pity party to me."
"Yeah," Dom said, agreeably.
"Out!" TJ yelled.
"No." Dom and Jim said in unison.
"It ain't a pity party," TJ said, calmer.
Jim looked at Dom. Both looked at TJ.
"Damn it," TJ said. He managed to stand.
"You were over there." TJ pointed to Jim. "Did you kill any kids?"
Jim remained silent.
"Well, did ya?" TJ dropped into his seat. "See, you'd never understand."
"I don't have to answer that," Jim said. His voice was low. "But, for you, I will. Yes, I was forced to shoot, to kill, kids … women, too. Anyone that attacked us – with guns or baskets full of grenades. I also shot the cowards hiding behind women and children, hopefully saving them from a hell I can't even imagine." Jim stood, paced the patio, returned and kicked his chair. "Yeah, I killed kids."
"It's not right," TJ said.
Jim stared into the night.
"No, it's not," Dom said. "That's why we're SWAT. It's getting crazier out there. I didn't kill kids, but I saw plenty of them dying from drugs when I was with Narco. Some not even teens yet."
Jim picked up his chair and the trio sat in silence for a few minutes.
"I let you guys down." TJ rested his arms on the table and dropped his head onto them.
"When?" Jim asked.
"What are you talking about?" asked Dom.
TJ sat up and slouched down in his chair. He glanced at Dom's arm; the bandaging around Dom's hand was visible. He glanced at Jim's face; at the stitches and bruising. "At that house. When you got hurt." He pounded his fist on the table. "I didn't freeze, I swear it. I just didn't have a shot."
Dom looked at Jim. Both looked at TJ.
"We didn't think you froze," Dom said. "That's crazy thinking."
Jim elbowed Dom.
"After the kid shooting … and seeing the shrink … then not shooting and you two getting hurt." TJ rubbed his eyes. "I think I may be crazy."
"You're not crazy." Jim shot Dom a cold glance and fingered his stitches. "That dude had a .22 rifle and I didn't duck quick enough. If you had started blasting away with that .308 without pinpointing the way you do – any of us could have big holes in us."
"Yeah," Dom said. "I had my hands full with that toothy dog. I didn't want to have to dodge your cannon, too."
"I felt helpless." TJ glanced between his two teammates.
"That's how I felt when the dog latched onto Dom's arm," Jim said.
"Exactly how I felt when Jim was lying there with his head bleeding and I was stuck with the damn dog," added Dom.
The three men burst into laughter simultaneously.
"Man," TJ said. "I have to see the shrink again in the morning."
"Is she hot?" asked Dom.
Jim elbowed Dom, again.
###
At two-thirty, Susan peeked out at the patio. The three guys were still at the little table. They were laughing – even TJ. They talked, laughed, toasted one another. She sighed with relief.