Sorry for the delay. Stupid real life! As always, thank you for reading and reviewing!

Lightly knocking on the door, Angie hesitantly entered the room, surprised to find no Jamie or nurse present. Briefly, she felt apprehensive, as if she were somewhere she shouldn't be, but the nurse at the station just outside his door had told her it would be okay so quietly, she went to his bedside. It helped that he was asleep. She was afraid she'd be unable to meet his gaze without breaking down. This was so much easier and yet, she knew it solved nothing. She'd have to face him at some point. This was the first time she'd seen him since they'd been in that place. Since he was on the floor in front of her, bleeding out from a bullet she'd put in him. Resisting the urge to turn and run, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before very slowly exhaling.

His copper-colored beard was heavier than it had been when she'd last seen him, with a healthy smattering of white along his jaw. She knew he wouldn't like it. He had told her so once when he hadn't been able to shave due to an incident in the lab that left him with several superficial cuts on one side of his face and chin. She had complimented the beard and he had merely scoffed, telling her that he didn't like all the white but she thought a bit of scruff gave him a sexy, boyish look that suited him very well. Still, she couldn't tell him that and unfortunately, she rarely saw him unshaven again.

His left leg rested atop the blanket, elevated by a folded over pillow under his knee, the angry, red wound uncovered, exposing the drain that snaked from beneath his skin at the end of a long train of sutures. The grotesque sight of it, the thought of what that woman had done to him, how it must have felt, made Angie quickly look away. Shaking her head sadly, she couldn't imagine the pain he had to endure.

Yellow betadine still stained his skin, especially around the edges of the bandage that covered most of his right shoulder and part of his chest, combining with the deep purple bruises to create an odd rust color on his skin. Watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, her eyes settled on the thin five-inch cut that trailed in a perfect line from a deep point at the top of his chest down to the middle of his chest. Frowning, Angie was sure this had happened when he was in the room with her but for the life of her she couldn't remember. There was still a part of her memory that was lost and honestly, she wasn't sure she ever wanted it back. She brought her hand up, her fingers hovering above the matted hair on his chest, and longed to touch him, to feel the beat of his heart against her palm. Hesitating, flexing her fingers into a fist, she couldn't do it. Instead, she lightly caressed his forehead, carefully avoiding the steri-strips covering the cut over his left eye and the fading bruises, feeling the heat radiating off his pale skin. This couldn't be normal, she thought. He shouldn't be this warm. She was about to buzz the nurse when she noticed his eyes flutter open.

Feeling the touch of her hand on his skin, he slowly opened his eyes, first staring up at the ceiling then bringing his unfocused gaze to her. And then he panicked. Trying desperately to back away but restrained by the confines of the bed and the numerous tubes and wires, he began to thrash wildly, pulling out the lines going into his hand, the drain going into his leg, and spilling fluids all over the floor and bed. He felt something pop in his shoulder and then a burst of searing pain that only seemed to fuel his fear. Finding his voice, he began to yell out in an eerily frightening tone. "No, please, keep her away! She wants to kill me! Make it stop!"

Alarm bells sounded on the surrounding monitors and as two nurses ran into the room, Angie ran from his room, her hand covering her mouth. She felt sick and it was all she could do to keep the rising bile at bay. This was exactly what she had feared – that he would remember she had tried to kill him. She couldn't stay there any longer; she couldn't stay at the institute. She had to leave Los Gatos, Santa Barbara, and the entire state of California. She had to be as far away from Harriman Nelson as she could possibly be. She had to be someplace where the thought of what she'd done couldn't hurt him anymore and where she could hopefully, one day, forget him.

She left the hospital, passing Kowalski, his hands full of bags, on the way, and walked urgently, purposefully to the hotel. Heading straight for her room, she went to the desk and took out a sheet of hotel stationary. Hastily writing out her thoughts on paper, she re-read it, signed it, folded it, and stuffed it into the matching white linen envelope and scribbled his name on the outside. Smoothing out her skirt as she stood up, she quickly exited the room, stopping two doors down at Lee Crane's room. Not bothering to knock, she slid the envelope under the door and then rushed to the bank of elevators. Once in the lobby, she placed the room key on the desk and hurried out the door, walking briskly until she was several blocks away.

Once she was safely away from the hospital and him, she leaned against a brick building, trying to catch her breath as her emotions finally betrayed her and realizing there was only one place for her to go: home. Back to Texas and her family. Back to people who had no idea what had happened to her or what she had done; to people who only remembered her as the tall, skinny, knock-kneed, shy girl who did well in school. Hailing a taxi, she gave instructions to the driver, slid inside, closed the door, and cried.

-xxx-

Lee arrived at the admiral's room in time to see him being rushed out the door and down the corridor. Grabbing Jamie's arm, as the doctor hurried along, he felt a rise of panic. "What's wrong? Where are they taking him?"

"Back to the OR. His fever spiked to 104."

"Infection?"

"Yes, likely it's a missed piece of metal so Dr. Cameron is going back in to see if he can find it."

"And if that's not it?"

"Then pray, Lee. Pray his fever comes down and he has no lasting repercussions."

Lee let go of his arm and watched him disappear behind the swinging double doors. Frozen in place as hospital personnel buzzed around him, Lee ran his hand over his hair, completely at a loss. And then a thought occurred to him. Searching for Chief Sharkey and finding him nearby, Lee walked over. "Chief, have you seen Angie? The clerk at the hotel said she was coming here but I don't see her."

"She was here maybe a half hour ago. I saw her go into the admiral's room and then Dixon came up and gave me a break. I hit the head, grabbed a cup of joe and when I got back, all hell had broken loose and she was gone. There's Ray, let's ask him. Hey, Raymundo!" Sharkey called the security supervisor and then waved him over. "Hey, buddy, you happen to see a pretty little brunette, long legs, about" he held up his hand shoulder high, "this tall, come out of Mr. Harrison's room?"

Lee marveled at Sharkey's ability to build a rapport with just about everyone. Then again, the admiral once remarked that Sharkey could be friends with a stick if he thought it would listen to him.

"Yes, I did see her. She lit out of his room like she was on fire. Headed to the elevator. If I didn't recognize her from before, I'd have been suspicious, especially since the alarms started sounding just before she left."

"The alarms?"

"Yes, from the monitors. Apparently, he got agitated and pulled out his lines. That sounds the alarms and alerts the nurses that the patient is in distress. So, they go running in and that's when she left."

"Did she look upset?"

"I couldn't tell. Only saw her from the um, back." The man's face reddened slightly as if he were embarrassed and guilty at the same time. "She could have been. You know, there's cameras all over this place. I can pull the tapes and see if I can find out where she went."

"Do that."

Dixon nodded and headed off on his mission. Despite the aliases, he knew very well who the patient and the tall, lanky man spending most of his days and nights nearby were. He was more than happy to assist any way that he could.

"Where was Doc?"

Sharkey hitched his thumb over his shoulder. "Still at the hotel catching some z's. They paged him when the alarms started going off."

"So she was in there alone?"

"Yeah, Paula, the uh, floor nurse, she said it was okay and I didn't see any harm in it. Did I do something wrong, letting her in there unsupervised? Cause I just thought she might like some time alone with him, seeing what they went through and all."

"No, that's fine." But Lee wondered if it really was. Maybe he was wrong to push her. Maybe she really wasn't ready to see him. Lee had been thinking of the admiral without really giving a thought to how it might affect her.

Sharkey hesitated before speaking up. Something Dixon said had raised a red flag in his mind but the implication of what it might mean, well, he didn't really want to consider it. Still, he felt it was his duty to voice his concern to the captain. Although it was far-fetched, if it was true and he didn't raise the issue, then he would never forgive himself. "Sir, what if Miss Angie was," he paused, choking on what he was about to suggest.

"What is it, chief?"

"Well, what if Miss Angie was given some sort of suggestion by that Parrish woman to somehow hurt the admiral."

"You mean other than shooting him?" Lee didn't mean to sound so terse and he didn't mean to practically shout the question but with Angie possibly missing, the admiral once again fighting for his life, and now Sharkey's suggestion, he wasn't sure how much more he could take. Immediately feeling contrite, Lee shoved both hands into his pockets and let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry," he said, although he wasn't really sure who he was apologizing to: Sharkey or Angie for finally stating out loud the thought that he'd spent the last few days trying to suppress.

-xxx-

Lee sat on the bed in his hotel room, the receiver plastered to his ear as if it were growing from the side of his head, frowning at the news he was receiving from Chip Morton. Thanks to the tip from Angie, they'd finally located Edie Merriweather however, as she was currently on a cruise ship, sailing around the Greek Islands, they could only leave messages for her. At the rate they were going Lee would have the admiral back in Santa Barbara before they actually spoke to Edith.

"Chip, there's one more thing. Keep an eye out for Angie."

"Angie? I thought she was there with you?"

"She was but something happened earlier at the hospital and now she's missing."

"Missing? You don't think Parrish…"

Lee sighed deeply. "No, it looks like she left on her own. Hospital security cameras show her looking very upset and running out of the lobby. The receptionist at the hotel said she left the key on the desk but didn't check out." Lee casually glanced at an envelope with his name in a woman's handwriting sitting on the desk and then cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. "Hang on a second." Fetching the envelope, he ripped open one end and pulled out the white stationary. His gaze scanned over the contents and went directly to the signature: Angie Moreira. "I found a letter. She must have put it under the door while I was out and housekeeping picked it up." Going back to the top of the letter, he read it once, and then read it again.

"Well, what's it say? Does it say where she is?" Chip knew Lee's silence spoke volumes, none of it good.

"She tendered her resignation from the institute effective immediately. Says she's leaving Santa Barbara."

"Does it say where she's going?"

"No."

"I thought you said she was seeing a psychiatrist and seemed to be getting a little better?"

"I thought she was." Lee read the letter once more, turning it over in his hand, afraid he might have missed some small detail. "I don't understand. Why would she resign?"

"Because she feels responsible?"

"But she's not. She knows that. Something must have happened."

"Are you going to tell him?"

Lee blew a breath into the receiver. He hadn't even thought about that. "I can't tell him this, Chip. I can't. Not yet anyway. Maybe I can get to her before she leaves. Talk some sense into her."

"You can always tell her you're not going to accept her resignation."

"But if she wants to quit, that's not going to stop her. Besides, what can I really do?"

"I don't know buddy. Want me to go by her place later, see if she's there?"

"Yes. And if she's there, ask her if she'll wait until I can get back there. I'd like to talk to her again. See what changed her mind."

"How much longer until the admiral can be transferred down here?"

"Well, until a little while ago, it could have been as soon as the end of this week."

"Could have been? That sounds bad. I thought you said he was getting better?"

"Jamie said he was. But he had a pretty bad infection in his shoulder and spiked a fever. They had to rush him into surgery a few hours ago. Doc says it was a piece of that transmitter. They missed it the first time and it didn't show up on x-rays but he thinks they got it. The admiral's in recovery now but he's still not out of the woods." Lee sighed heavily into the receiver. "Even when one problem is resolved, it seems like another one rears its head. His leg is bad, Chip. He may need more surgery but unless it's an emergency, Doc wants to wait until they get him back to Med Bay."

"Transferring him if he's still got an infection, that could be bad, right?"

"Yes, but Doc thinks letting him recover in surroundings that he's familiar with might help. This infection did a number on him so he needs to get a little stronger before anything can happen."

"This doesn't sound good, Lee. We've got this mission to the Bering Sea coming up. He's been looking forward to it for the last six months. You're going to have to tie him down to keep him off Seaview."

"I know but it is what it is. At this point we have to plan on sailing without him." Lee had no sooner hung up with Chip when the telephone rang. Hoping for news of Angie, he quickly grabbed up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Lee, Monty. I tracked down your girl."

"Is she okay?" With Lydia Parrish still out there, Lee's first concern was for Angie's safety.

"Well, I haven't actually seen her – I just know where she went and how she got there."

"And?"

"She took a taxi to the rental car place, rented a car – charged it to the institute - and drove back to Santa Barbara. She's not at her apartment so maybe she has a girlfriend, a sister, someone she might be staying with?"

Lee realized that apart from her job at the institute and that she had originally moved to California from Texas, he really didn't know much about her. She could have had family in the area but if so, she never mentioned them around him. Maybe the admiral knew. But that would require Lee telling him that she'd left and while inevitable, it wasn't a conversation he was prepared to have just yet. A thought occurred to Lee, one that might buy him some time but would certainly not make Angie happy. He didn't think the admiral would approve either.

"Monty, you said she charged the rental car to the institute?"

"Yeah, seems N.I.M.R. has an account with them."

"If she resigned effective immediately, then she's no longer an employee."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Can you do it?"

"That's not really my jurisdiction but I can call Santa Barbara PD and have her held for theft and fraud."

Lee hated taking this route but he couldn't think of any other option. Closing his eyes and gripping the phone tightly, he said through clenched teeth, "Okay, do that." Hanging up the phone, he immediately felt awful and hoped she would forgive him.

-xxx-

Will Jamieson looked over the chart as his patient opened first one eye, then the other, squinting against the bright overhead lights. Jamieson moved into his line of sight and put his hand on the Admiral's shoulder. "Do you remember where you are?" he asked, seeing the puzzled look on his patient's face.

Nodding his head, he asked, "Angie?" Although he'd been off the ventilator, they'd had to insert a tracheal tube when they'd rushed him back into surgery, leaving him with barely any voice at all.

Doc could barely understand him but he knew the question. "She's okay."

Nelson tried to lift himself up to get a better look. "Where?"

Doc gently urged him to lie back down. "She's at the hotel resting. Remember?" Between the initial blood loss, the multiple surgeries, and the high fever that had accompanied the infection, Jamie was concerned about short term memory loss. It also troubled Jamie that he hadn't exactly told him the truth about Angie but given that he didn't know where she was at the moment, at least it wasn't an outright lie. Still, it had been six hours since she'd last been seen leaving the hospital and Jamie was worried. He just hoped the admiral was still out of it enough that he wouldn't dwell on it.

Nelson seemed to accept that answer, nodding as his head sank into the pillow. For the first time in days he was lucid, the fog he'd been in slowly dissipating. If only his throat didn't hurt. "Lee?"

"He went back to Santa Barbara to take care of some business. He'll be back soon. Here, take some water." Jamie held the cup and straw to Nelson's lips while the man quickly drained the water. Setting the cup down, he took a pen from his pocket.

The admiral lifted his head, straining to see his heavily bandaged shoulder and chest. Laboring under the effort, his head went back to the pillows. Peering up at the ceiling, he said, "I was shot?"

Doc came over to the side of the bed, his hand resting on the rolling table. "Yes, you were shot." Doc could see the wheels turning and wondered if he could remember or if he was still trying to put the pieces together. "The bullet destroyed the device Parrish inserted, the one she used to torture you, however, the pieces scattered. There was quite a bit of muscle and tissue damage, not to mention a couple of broken bones and a collapsed lung. But incredibly," Doc dragged his hand over the back of his neck, "that device probably kept you from bleeding out. It saved your life."

"Don't think that's what she expected." One corner of his mouth hitched up in what could have almost been a smile. "Angie's a pretty good shot."

Doc smiled. He remembered.

"That why she's avoiding me?"

Rolling the pen over in his hand, Doc took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "As you might imagine, she's having a hard time dealing with everything that happened."

"Not her fault."

Doc refilled the cup and brought it to him once again, watching as he quickly drained the contents. Setting aside the cup, he walked around to the other side of the bed. "I want to see how bad the residual nerve damage is so I need you to tell me if you can feel this." He gently dragged the capped end of the pen from the top of Nelson's right shoulder down to the back of his hand.

Slowly, Nelson shook his head. He couldn't feel anything.

Not yet discouraged, Doc tried again, this time with a firmer touch.

Again, Nelson shook his head.

"Can you wiggle your fingers for me?"

One by one, the Admiral lifted each finger then clenched his hand into a fist.

"Well, that's a good sign." Jamieson said it more to be encouraging than anything else. As it stood now, he could jab the pen into the admiral's forearm and he wouldn't feel a thing but at least there was no paralysis. Checking the lines going into the back of Nelson's right hand, Jamie then moved to the other side of the bed and carefully lifted the light blanket, exposing the admiral's left thigh and the bandage covering it. Placing his hand on the leg and pressing firmly, he was relieved to see the skin pink up when he removed it but pursed his lips at the heat radiating off the sutured wound. Scanning the chart and scribbling a few notes, Jamie frowned at the slightly elevated temperature. This was more in line with what he expected to see but still somewhat worrisome. Setting aside the chart and once again using the pen cap, Jamie dragged the end along the inside of his thigh from the knee up to the edge of the wound. "Same drill. Feel anything?"

"No."

"Okay," Jamie moved the cap so it was on the outside of his thigh. "Can you feel that?"

"Yes."

"Say stop when the feeling goes away." Jamie dragged the cap from the outside of Nelson's leg towards the wound.

"Stop," Nelson said.

Doc looked down, noting that he was a few inches away from the bandage.

"Is it bad?"

"Not entirely. Dr. Cameron believes you will get the feeling back in your arm and your leg. It's just going to take some time. However…"

"There's always a however."

Jamie smiled. "Seems that way, doesn't it?" Seeing the look on Harry's face, the dread that he might not walk again, Jamie realized he needed to give him the good news first. "It won't affect your ability to walk. You should be up and about in no time." And now the bad news. "Unfortunately, unlike in your arm, the nerve in your leg was damaged so it's going to take a little more time before you get that feeling back."

He was relieved to hear the news but right now, he wished the numbness extended to the all-encompassing pain that never seemed to end.

"Admiral, I hate to ask but did Lydia Parrish do this to you?" Jamie saw the grimace and got his answer.

At the sound of her name, Harry closed his eyes, remembering. "She wanted information." He shook his head emphatically back and forth. "I couldn't tell her." Opening his eyes, he looked directly at Jamie. "I would have told her. To save Angie, I would have told her anything. But I didn't…don't know." Feeling the urgent need to find Angie, he tried to lift himself from the bed only to feel an immediate stab in his shoulder that caused a sharp intake of breath.

Jamie was quickly at his side, his hand on his left shoulder. "Hey, hey, none of that. You need to lie back."

"Need to tell her how sorry I am. I couldn't help her."

Seeing the anguish on the man's face, Jamie wished there was something more he could do or say ease the obvious guilt. The grief turned into a grimace and while Jamie couldn't help with the mental pain, at least he could do something for the physical pain. Increasing the morphine, he gave the admiral a gentle pat on the arm. "Better?"

Harry nodded but truth be told, it wasn't better. Most of his body felt as if it were on fire, with pain radiating from his upper thigh to his left hip, his groin, and across his middle, then over the right side of his chest and shoulder. But he wasn't going to complain. Angie had been hurt, perhaps irreparably, and he was responsible. The pain was his penance for failing her.

Adjusting the blanket and then raising the bed rail, Doc said, "Give it a few minutes to kick in."

Nelson's eyelids grew heavy. "Not going anywhere, am I?"

Over the last ten days Jamie had gotten no argument from one of his worst patients. The fact that so far Nelson had not once argued spoke volumes. "Not yet but soon enough. If we can stave off infection and your lungs are clear, then I'm going to give Captain Crane the green light to get you back to Santa Barbara."

One corner of Nelson's mouth quirked up and "home," was the last thing he said before falling into a heavily drug-induced sleep.