Peter paced…35 minutes… they said it would take half an hour to remove the bypass and transfer him to the ventilator…which made Dr. Cole late… he didn't want to think about what that meant... but he couldn't help it. After three days of lying quiet … at rest… what if his heart wouldn't start…? What if his lungs still couldn't process enough oxygen to sustain life, even with the air being forced into them…? What if…all of this had been meaningless …merely prolonging a life that had already gone…He clenched his fists and locked his jaw… he couldn't fall apart… couldn't allow himself to think like that.

They were closing in on Wilson… Reynolds and his team might be arresting him right now. D*** he hoped so. He wanted that man locked up… no, he wanted to lock him in a building and demolish it around him… he wanted to … he sighed and collapsed back into the chair…

45 minutes… Dr. Cole stepped into the room, her face serious.

"How …" he tried to read that face "How did it go?"

"The transfer was successful…" he sagged in relief "however…" he couldn't make himself look up

"What?"

"This is a big step… but he is far from out of the woods…"

"I realize that…" he forced himself to look at her then "did something happen…?"

"No…I was hopeful…but…" she started gently "he didn't attempt to breath on his own… not entirely unexpected given the condition of his lungs… and the sedation …but…"

"I see…"

"We will begin reducing the sedatives this afternoon… after that… we will monitor his responsiveness. Hopefully he will regain consciousness"

"He might not wake up?"

"It is always a possibility with oxygen deprivation"

Peter nodded… she patted his arm

"How long until we know?"

"That is up to him…" Dr. Cole regarded him a moment "It is tricky to know what to expect…given the nature of his situation… he was not… fortunately at any point totally without oxygen… however his level were dangerously low for nearly three hours… It would be too optimistic to believe he will come out of that entirely unscathed…" She watched the devastation those word shot through the man before her "On a positive note his heart is definitely stronger… his blood pressure is holding now. Hopefully he will be able to maintain it"

"Thank you" he studied his hands.

"Unfortunately there are concerns… his white blood cell count is higher than I'd like… indicating an infection… most likely from the broken leg…" she smiled tightly "I'm afraid we will have to make a difficult decision about it very soon."

"About his leg? You mean…?"

"It is badly crushed… the femur is splintered…numerous bone fragments embedded in the tissue… The muscles and nerves were without blood flow… I'm not sure we could save it even under better circumstances… right now he isn't up to fighting a significant infection."

"You're talking about… taking his leg"

"We aren't to that point yet… but yes, it is a very real possibility…"

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Henry Wilson came in easily once they had him cornered… in fact, Reynolds thought the man seemed almost relieved when he cuffed him. He looked jumpy… frightened…glancing over his shoulder watching the windows…

Sitting in the interrogation room he fidgeted… startling at every sound. Bitterly Reynolds remembered his thoughts about Caffrey in a similar room in France. He had translated his outward calm to coldness… clearly he had been mistaken… now he just wondered what had been going through the man's mind that day… now he could recall how Caffrey had been so careful not to look at the crime scene photos… how horrifying those must have been for him. Now that he knew that the man was capable of feeling for others…deeply…he could only imagine how hard he had worked to present that calm exterior. Now that he had read the rest of the psych profile he wondered how the man held it together through the accusations…and the interview later that day… at least now he understood why Caffrey hadn't even mentioned his own injuries... low self-esteem…he didn't even think the fact that he had 3 broken ribs…that he nearly bled out that night, was worth a passing mention…. "I fell asleep," he said.

Reynolds shook his head and pulled his mind back on task. He stepped into the room with the edgy kidnapper. The man looked up at him as the door closed.

"Is he still alive?"

"Who?' the man's look said it all

"Caffrey… Collins … whatever his name is… Is. He. Alive?'

"Yes. He's doing well." He lied … hoping to get something from this man. It worked, Wilson paled looking on the verge of collapse…

"You have to protect me." He whispered desperately… "He's going to kill me"

"Collins?" Reynolds voice held just enough confusion

"no!" he swallowed hard "Collins was supposed to die….the man who wants him to stop breathing…he assured me if Collins still has a heartbeat by tomorrow… then I won't"

"Does this man have a name?"

"Not another word until you promise you will protect me."

"You kidnapped my daughter and left her to die…! What makes you think I care if you make it through tomorrow or not!?"

"I can't give you his name…"

"You just said he's going to kill you anyway."

"There are different ways to die, Agent Reynolds…" the man licked his lips nervously "in case you can't or won't protect me I would prefer it to be quick."

"I see" Thomas sighed grimly "well then…" he waved him away "take him to holding"

"There are two people… they pass on his orders…" he gulped "I can give you their names…"

"That might be worth something…" Reynolds said quietly… "Let's hear them"

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

Reynolds took a breath fighting a sense of déjà vu as he stepped into the hospital room… Burke looked up from the files in his lap… Thomas wondered when the man slept…he was obviously exhausted but still he worked…

"How is he?" just like last time it was a stupid question… even more so today…

"They upgraded him to a ventilator yesterday…" the man gave a brief bitter laugh at that absurdity of that statement… "The doctor is talking about cutting off his leg… is there a reason you are here?" the look was glacial.

"We picked up Henry Wilson last night" he glanced at the silent figure in the bed as if just saying the name could disturb the unresponsive young man. "He's willing to talk… to some degree … he wants protection in return."

"Give it to him." Reynolds looked at him in surprise "he's a weapon… we want the person handling it…"

"Ok… good because…" he drew a slow breath "we did… he mentioned two names Tomas Martinez, he has been suspected for 20 years of running large quantities of coke out of Honduras… we have never had enough to bring him in … and Morgan Flannery, she's made quite a name for herself… word is if you need firepower, anything you want, she can get her hands on it...no questions asked…she has a reputation for being one scary lady… they are both on the list of Kyle Nolen's clients. Wilson says they are both taking orders from someone else. I don't think we can touch them… not yet… we need more evidence than a kidnapper's word for it… I'm working on bringing in Nolen… if we can pin him down he might be able to connect the dots but we need a pretty good case to try it… he is slippery."

"Not surprising"

"No it's not" he considered what he was about to say next… and noticed Caffrey's drawing… the young woman with dark hair peeking out of the papers in Burke's lap. He pulled his mind back on track and pushed on… "I don't mean to pry… the other day…you said the system doesn't work for him… what did you mean?"

Burke studied him… quietly… for a long moment, brown eyes darkly following his curious green gaze

"When Emily's mother died… you said DCPD arrested her killer…"

"Yes" he wasn't sure he liked where this might be going… or what it had to do with his question.

"How long did that take…?"

"They picked him up a week later… of course it helped that I was a witness"

"How many people do you think were involved in the investigation?"

"I don't know…20…30"

"And the people around you… they were … supportive…?"

"I suppose…" Yes everyone had been kind… for what that was worth…he wasn't sure it made the loss any less devastating but they had been kind… he failed to see what this had to do with his inquiry…

"Your friends and family… maybe even your co-workers attended her funeral …?" Reynolds had enough.

"What does any of this have to do with my question?"

Burke looked at him, extracting the drawing, holding it up so Reynolds could see it clearly… "Her name was Kate…"

Reynolds suddenly wasn't sure he wanted to hear more…

"He loved her?" he gulped, sure he already knew the answer.

"He still does…obviously" he twitched the drawing "Part of him always will."

Thomas nodded… he understood that.

"And he saw…?"He didn't need to finish, Burke's dark look said it all…

"The day she died…I held him… it took everything… every ounce of strength I had …to keep him out of the flames…to keep him from killing himself trying to get to her" Burkes stopped there… his sad look growing harder suddenly "he was still staring into the fire…sobbing… trembling…in shock when NYPD slapped cuffs on him, and dragged him back to a maximum security prison …" his voice was soft, cynical "they kept him there for 2 months… there were no charges… they just didn't know what else to do with him…he didn't get to go to her funeral… no one asked if he was ok…how he was holding up… no one cared what happened to him or what he felt… he was left to grieve alone in a cell…when he wasn't dodging the men he helped me put there… courtesy of our justice system. When I finally managed to get them to release him to me again…no one was looking for her killer… no one except us." The brown eyes softened suddenly… "You know what gets me…" he shook his head in disbelief at his own next words "he didn't expect anything different… when they arrested him… he didn't even protest…"

"Why?" Reynolds asked

"Because it's what he's been programed to expect his whole life…"Peter stared straight into his face coldly "by people like you." His face fell further… an undefinable pain in his eyes

Reynolds flinched back from those words… and that look.

"Yes, like you Reynolds… you took one look at half a psych profile and decided you knew everything there was to know about him… wrote him off as some sort of monster"

"I was wrong, he didn't deserve that…but…you can't…I wouldn't…" but he stopped, recalling the fear in the young man's eyes when he pulled him up in fury, threatening violence against him for coloring with his daughter …the way the man didn't object didn't protest … remembering bloody lips begging his forgiveness… choking… drowning in the blood that filled his crushed lungs… begging for forgiveness because he couldn't protect Emily from a few minor injuries…a man who expected to be hurt… for something entirely outside his control… and accepted it…

"It's not the first time he got a raw deal…or the last." Burke's voice dropped, the anger was cold… tight, he almost missed the rest "our justice system has let him down at every turn since he was 3 years old…" the other agent's voice cracked "h*** I've even let him down… more than once" Thomas didn't know what to say to that… he thought of a frightened teenager running for his life…afraid to talk to the police, a young man grieving alone in a cell, of a small boy he couldn't picture pushed aside by the world… He swallowed the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him…

"Not this time…" It was a promise. It might not mean much coming from him, but Thomas Reynolds meant it from the depths of his soul.

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

Thomas sat in his office… he'd pretty much lived here the last few days… briefed on Caffrey's warning about Wilson's orders to teach Reynolds a lesson, his superior had insisted that neither he nor Emily leave the building unescorted… While he understood the concern it made working his case difficult. Emily knelt in the second chair… her eyes focused on the paper under her little hands… he tried to focus on the file in his but his daughter's humming was a bit distracting…

"Having fun?"

"I like to draw" she smiled brightly at him

"What are you drawing?" she jumped down bringing her picture with her, eager to show him… the picture showed a small stick figure wrapped in the big circling arms of a larger figure… the back ground was all dark scribbles…

"This is me" the little girl said pointing to the tiny person in her drawing… "And this is Nick…" she pointed to the protecting arms…

"That's Mr. Collins?"

"Uh-huh… Nick… you said he wasn't bad?"

"He isn't… but you should be respectful"

"He's nice."

"Yes he was." He flinched…past tense wasn't quite right but…the man's life still hung by such a thin strand…

"He's my friend. He singed hush baby don't cry…"

"Did he?" Thomas shook his head… he sang the song to his baby the first time he held her, so tiny and fragile in the NICU… it had been her favorite lullaby ever since.

"Can I go see him… you said maybe?" Thomas silently cursed her steel trap memory

"No baby you can't … not yet." he whispered thinking the still figure in that bed…seeing that would terrify her

"Emily remember I told you he got hurt…" a nod, her eyes big. She remembered he said her friend might go away like the mommy she never knew

"You said he is sleeping so he can get AAAAALL better."

"He's still sleeping…" her little face crinkled in confusion… her three year old mind could not imagine anyone wanting to sleep so long. "You can see him if…when he wakes up, ok sweetie?

"Ok... "She climbed into to her daddy's lap "I want to give him my picture. He likes to draw too"

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

Dr. Lindsey Cole braced herself as she stepped into the room…She hated bringing bad news…and hard decisions to her patients and their family members. Nicholas Collins' increased white cell counts had reached critical levels during the night and this morning he was running a fever despite strong antibiotics. The leg was seriously infected. Now it came down to a decision between a simple amputation which he might survive… and a complicated 10 to 12 hour surgery to try to rebuild the thigh…Nick Collins was far too weak for that procedure.

She sighed as his "brother" looked up at her. She had been around long enough to know the man had lied to her… she didn't argue with him though… his concern was real and she didn't see anyone else stepping up take care of the young man, after all.

"What's wrong?" he cut to the chase.

"His leg…" she met his eyes sympathetically… "We have to make a decision in the next few hours… the amputation, as serious as it is… is the best option … will be the easiest on him."

"There is another option?" he sounded hopeful

"Not one that I would recommend…" she sighed again at the look in his eyes "it is a much more complicated surgery… a minimum of 10 hours to set the bone, clean out the dead tissue and repair what we can of the muscle…he's not up to it… the risk is too high." She continued quietly "and there is a good chance the leg will never bear his weight again even if we could save it… between this break and the damage to his hip… the decision is up to you but if it were my brother…I'd let us take the leg-"

She stopped when her patient began to moan… choking on the vent tube and twisting his head frantically side to side… the fingers of his splinted left arm clutching at the blanket desperately… Dr. Cole moved quickly to increase his sedation…she didn't believe he was aware of his surroundings on any conscious level but his agitation could cause him to hurt himself… Suddenly she was looking into the bluest eyes she had ever seen… of course, the color was not unexpected, she had opened them several times herself the last few days…had seen them in the trauma room the first day… but they had been vacant… lifeless before… now filled with terror, they struggled to focus on her… before she could sooth him the man standing beside her stretched out his hand to stoke the damp brown hair.

"Shhh… it's ok … its ok" his voice was rough "you're safe… relax…" to her surprise the young man responded to the voice, his eyes locking on the other man… the thrashing stopped… his lips moving now instead… desperately…as if trying to speak… he couldn't be… His friend didn't seem to understand that, bending forward as if he could comprehend what Nick was trying to tell him… "What's wrong? Are you hurting?" he spoke softly taking the twitching hand in his own. The dark head twisted side to side, fear and pleading in those eyes… as if beseeching someone to understand what he needed. Suddenly the other man looked in surprise at the hand he held… concentrating on it intently. His eyes widened… mouth partially opened.

"I hear you buddy… I got the message" he said out of the blue as he brushed the hair away from blue eyes and smiled encouragingly "it's ok… just rest. I hear you"

Dr. Cole helped that along with an adjustment in his sedatives and pain meds. After he relaxed… eyes slipping closed, locked on the brown ones above him until the last moment, she considered Peter quietly.

"You handled that very well… "She smiled at him, thanking him for soothing the patient "I'll give you a little time to think about what we discussed…"

"I don't need it..." his voice was firm, unwavering "try to save his leg."

"He doesn't have the strength-"

"He doesn't want you to take it…"

"How, may I ask, do you suddenly know that?"

"He told me." He carefully lay the splinted hand against the younger man's stomach… gazing in wonder at the still fingers… she nodded in disbelief... moving to make the arrangements unhappily …she was certain her patient would be dead by the end of the day… As she left she thought she heard the man say "Morse code, really? Only you…only you."