Chapter 6

Iris sat quietly in a chair by the sofa and read while waiting for Johnny to wake up. When she heard a soft groan, she closed the magazine and stepped over closer to him, unable to resist the temptation to brush his bangs off his moist brow.

Johnny felt the gentle touch, and his eyes began to flutter open. He had assumed the sensation came from his favorite emergency room nurse, having grown accustomed to Dixie's tender caresses whenever he was hospitalized. He blinked his eyes a few times, becoming more aware of his surroundings. Seeing the familiar face staring down at him reminded him of where he was. "Oh… Yea, hey…"

"Are you hurting?" She asked, assuming that the light sheen of sweat on his face was the result of his discomfort since the temperature in the room was cool.

He stretched his aching back, his grimace answering her question.

"You can have more pain medication as soon as you eat something."

"Thanks," he stated, forcing himself into a sitting position. "Argh, this hurts."

"I know it must. Dixie said you took quite a fall. Wanna talk about it while I heat up the soup?"

Johnny quirked one eyebrow at her, grinning lopsidedly. "Soup? Your homemade vegetable soup?"

"I've got it thawing out in the kitchen. It'll be ready as soon as I can heat it up." She smiled at the young man, enjoying his obvious appreciation of her culinary skills.

"It's been a long time since I enjoyed some o' that," he said, slowly rising to his feet. "Um, do ya mind if I soak in a tub of hot water while you heat it up? Maybe that'll loosen up these stiff muscles."

"That's a good idea. Everything is in the same place," she said, offering him her shoulder to lean on. He politely declined, choosing to use the furniture to ambulate across the room and down the hallway. "I'm a creature of habit," she called out to him.

"I know, and I love ya for it," he said, flipping on the light in the aqua colored bathroom. Johnny opened up the cabinet, removing a towel, then reached for the hot water faucet. "Shit!" He cursed, bending his knees to lower himself enough to reach the water faucets. Eventually, he had them turned on, then set about slowly removing his clothes. When he looked down at his shirt, he realized his light blue shirt had been replaced with a white one normally worn by orderlies. He remembered that his uniform had been torn as he was falling through the protruding limbs of the tree, then had been cut up by Brice who had examined him. "Oh well…"

As the water continued to run, he heard a gentle knock on the bathroom door.

"Thorn?"

"Yea?" He responded, opening the door only a crack to hide his nakedness.

"If you'll hand me your clothes, I'll wash them for you."

"Um… Okay," he hesitated momentarily, then used the side of his foot to push the pile of dirty laundry through the doorway. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," she smiled, bending over to pick up the dirty garments. She knew that he was unaware that his nude backside was being reflected in the bathroom mirror, displayed for her to see. She would've giggled, had it not been for the bruising along his back and across his buttocks. The discoloration was a reminder that she needed to get the soup heated. She wanted to feed him something healthy and then help him get to bed.

"I know you're modest, Thorn, but just wrap a towel around your waist when you get out of the tub. I'll have the soup ready so you can eat and take another pill. You'll rest better on a full stomach. It'll take at least an hour or more for your clothes to be ready, and I'm sure you don't want to sit in the tub that long."

"Ahh… Okay," he mumbled, realizing he had no other choice.

Half an hour later, Johnny was slowly drying himself off, cursing in whispers at the pain the action caused. "Ssshhhhit!" He hissed, hoping Iris had not overheard him. Eventually, he managed to wrap the towel around his waist, easing down the short hallway a bit easier than before his bath. His muscles, though still aching, felt less tense.

"Soup's hot."

He grinned at her, feeling the need to cover his bare chest, but having nothing except his own arms to use. "I feel a little, ah, underdressed."

"No worries. It's just the two of us," Iris responded, pouring him a glass of tea, placing it on the kitchen table as he pulled out the chair nearest the wall.

"Mind if I sit here?" He asked, gesturing to the place where he used to eat when he had stayed with Iris during his younger years.

"The last rear end that sat there was your skinny butt," she chuckled, pushing his bottle of pills towards his bowl. "And I've got some saltine crackers, too. Want some?"

"Nah, I'm not that hungry," he said, tentatively taking a bite of the steaming meal. "Mmmm, delicious."

Iris smiled at him, bashfully nodding her head. She cleared her throat, taking a seat with her own bowl and glass of tea. "Ahem… So have you decided for sure what you're gonna do?"

Johnny swallowed hard, reaching for his glass of tea to soothe his throat. "Yea…," he hesitated, taking another bite as he tried to figure out how to explain it to her. "I'm gonna hide out for a while, at least until I know Waite isn't after me."

"How will you hide out? You're a public servant, Thorn, so you can't just disappear."

"Why not?"

"Because taking some time off to go talk to Lily is one thing, but you make it sound like you're gonna go hide out with that bunch of religious freaks! How long are you talkin' about, hiding out? What will you tell your captain? Your friends?" She pushed her reddish gray hair off of her forehead in frustration. "You can't just go into hiding for another ten years!"

Johnny took a few more bites, quickly finishing the soup and downing his pill with the remainder of his tea. "I don't know how long it'll take, but I'll stay up there as long as I have to." Carefully, he leaned back in his chair. "I have friends and coworkers today, but I won't have 'em for much longer," he said, blinking hard to hide his emotions.

"You can't be serious!"

"I can't exactly tell them the truth, can I? What would they think of me?" He shook his unruly hair. "No, I'd rather have 'em hate me, than for 'em to know the truth." He stared at the scratches on his hands, reminders of what might have been his final rescue. "It's just better for everyone this way." He didn't want to mention the fact that if Waite came after him, then those he loved could be in danger. "Better for you, too."

"I'm not afraid of that sonofabitch."

"You would be if you had seen what he did to Phillip." Johnny worried a finger across his upper lip. "Why don't you come with me?" He asked, sincerely worried for her safety.

Iris could tell that Johnny was trying to change the subject of their conversation from himself to her. She reached over, grasping his thin hand in her own and redirecting their talk. "Thorn… Don't. There's no shame in the truth. You're not at fault. Waite and his cronies did it, not-"

"And I could've sent them to jail, but I was too damn scared to do the right thing." He looked up at her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm just a damn coward. A good for nothing, goddamn coward." He bowed his head, in a silent apology to her for his cursing outburst.

"You're a firefighter and a paramedic. You run into burning buildings when everyone else is running the other way. That's not a coward, Thorn. That's a hero. You're a hero!"

"NO!" He nearly shouted, slamming his open palm down on the table, regretting how the action made Iris jump back. "S-sorry," he mumbled. "Just don't call me that. Don't ever call me that."

Understanding made its way across Iris' pale face. She finally began to see why he had made his career choice a few years ago. She raised her trembling fingers to cover her gaping mouth. "Ohmygod," she murmured. "That's why you went to the Fire Academy. That's why you've been doing this dangerous work all these years. Risking your life is some sort of penance, isn't it?"

Johnny didn't answer her, staring at the table for a long moment as he pondered both her question and his response. "I saw a man die before my eyes, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. All I've been tryin' to do is help others who are injured or trapped. I can't save 'em all, but…" He stood up slowly, carrying his dishes to the sink. "But at least now, I try to do somethin'." He began running hot water, pouring a little dish soap into the stream. "I'll wash up the dishes while my clothes get ready. Then you can… Um, you can take me home."

"I won't do it."

Johnny rolled his eyes. "Please, I need to be in my own bed. I don't need to be… leachin' off you, again."

"I'll take you home, if that's what you want, even though you know you need someone to stay with you tonight. But I won't let you lose what you've worked so hard for. You've accomplished too much to just throw it all away because of your ego!"

"My EGO?" He shouted, twisting his torso to look at her, immediately regretting the painful action. His entire career had been spent pretending to be macho and self-confident while he performed his duties. Never did he imagine that the façade he was hiding behind might be misconstrued as boisterous. "I don't have an ego!"

"The hell you don't," she retorted with fire in her eyes. "You're more worried about what your friends will think of you if they knew the truth, than you are about hurting them by walking out on them. So I guess you're right. You ARE a coward." She turned her back on him, preparing to step out of the room, but hesitating just long enough to say what he needed to hear. "What you did ten years ago was out of necessity, but what you're doing now is the definition of cowardice." She walked out of the room, patting her cheeks with the backs of her hands. She needed to wash her face before she took him back to his apartment. Her time with him had not gone as planned.

Sniffling, he whispered to himself. "I'm not walkin' out on 'em... If I make 'em hate me, then I'm not walkin' out on 'em." He looked up, seeing that he was alone in the small kitchen. As he rinsed the bowl and spoon, hot tears burned streaks down his reddened face. With that task completed, he dried his hands on a dish towel, then leaned against the counter, his palms flat against the porcelain basin. He sucked in a ragged breath, squeezing his eyes closed, forcing out the remaining tears. "It's best if everyone I love hates me. My family at 51's and… And my family here, too," he whimpered, his sad brown eyes staring longingly down the empty hallway.

E!

Johnny waited for over an hour, hoping Iris would emerge from the bedroom she had prepared for him. When she didn't, he decided to go find her.

"Hey," Johnny said, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom. Iris was sitting on the bed, looking at the framed photograph, the one with both Johnny and Lily standing on a river bank with the afternoon sun shining on their smiling faces.

"Are you ready to go?" Iris asked, running her finger along the glass as if the action somehow connected her to her estranged daughter.

Guilt from his earlier behavior had overwhelmed Johnny, and even though he had gotten dressed, he realized that he needed to stay with Iris, at least for one night. It seemed that she needed his presence as much as he needed her assistance.

"No… Is the offer of this bed still available?"

Looking up from the photograph, her green eyes locked with his remorseful brown ones. "Always, Thorn. For you, always." She stepped away from the bed, allowing him to gingerly sit down. He toed off his shoes and slowly leaned back against the pillow.

"What changed your mind?"

Johnny tried to lace his fingers behind his head, but hissed at the way his sore muscles protested the movement. Grunting with the effort, he shifted his position and rested his arms at his sides. He stared at the ceiling, choosing his words carefully.

"I guess…," he sighed, struggling to explain himself. "I guess I realized that I needed to spend a little time with you, if you don't mind." He turned his face to his left, seeing Iris' eyes blinking rapidly. "I've missed you, this place… Spending time here with you."

"I've missed you, t-too," she replied in a hitching whisper.

"How long has it been since you talked to her?"

Iris inhaled deeply, thinking back to her last conversation with her daughter. She sat down beside him as she calculated the time. "It's been nearly two years," she replied, her eyes staring at the picture on the nightstand. "She called me on my birthday."

Johnny didn't make a sound. He realized that Iris was struggling to tell him the story of her last contact with Lily.

"I begged her to come home… But she said she couldn't."

"Couldn't… Or wouldn't?" He asked, curious about what Iris meant.

Iris shifted her gaze away from the picture and into the face of man she had grown to love since he was a teenager. She knew that he had been thrust into a grown-up world overnight. He had been a witness to the cruelty that humans can inflict on each other, and she could still see the pain in those caring eyes. He looked at her, waiting for an answer to his question.

"I don't know… I honestly don't know, Thorn." She stood up, walking over to the window and staring out at the sherbet colors of the setting sun. "I don't know which I'd rather it be, you know?"

Johnny tried to turn his face to follow her as she walked around the foot of the bed, but he stopped the movement, tracking her with only his eyes. The pain was still there in his upper back and neck.

"What do you mean?"

"Well… If she CAN'T come home, then that means that she's being held against her will. But if she WON'T come home, then it's her preference to stay away from me." She turned to look down at Johnny. "I don't know which is worse."

"Oh… Well, maybe I can find out."

Iris closed her eyes, damning the flow of tears that threatened. "Thorn, please…" She sighed, opening her eyes and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "I can't lose you, too."

"Heyyy," he drawled out, reaching over to grasp her hand. "You won't lose me. It's the perfect place for me to hide out for a while. Waite won't look for me there."

"Thorn, he isn't looking for you HERE. He's just returned back THERE himself. That means he thinks he's free and clear. He has no reason to come after you, so you have no reason to leave," she said, her voice pleading for Johnny to see her point of view. "Or to continue to distance yourself from your parents."

"You don't know that," he countered.

"What does he have to gain? What purpose would it serve to come after you?"

"He said he would." Johnny felt her grip tighten on his hand and knew that she didn't want to hear what he had to say. "We've been through this before. I saw what he did, and I know what he told me he'd do to me and my family if I ever told anyone." He released her hand before he continued. "I can't take the chance."

"Thorn, you aren't making any sense. You moved out here to keep him from finding your parents when you didn't even give him your real name. You've been living a great life here, out in the open, for the last ten years and you NEVER worried about him finding you until now. Why? Are you planning on staying in Tehachapi for eternity?"

"I made the mistake of telling him I was from Montana. I had to lie about my identity, so I just used the name you and Lily had been calling me. I figured he'd never find me in California, especially if he didn't know my real name, but I couldn't risk going back to Montana, even under an assumed identity."

Iris wanted to laugh out loud. "I KNOW all of this, Thorn. He won't find you, not here, not anywhere, because I don't think he's looking for you."

"You don't THINK… But you don't KNOW!" He said, his frustration growing. He knew she was right, but he was still afraid, and that was something he didn't want to admit.

"What's the real reason, Thorn? What's the real reason you want to leave everything behind and go hide out in the wilderness with a… a cult?"

Johnny stared at her, wondering if it was time to tell her the truth. His breathing rate increased and his heart began to pound.

Iris, sensing his distress, reached over and caressed the side of his face, just as she had comforted him on that fateful night. "Please, Thorn, please tell me what it is that you're hiding."

He closed his eyes, leaning into her caress. The warmth and softness of her hand reminded him of his mother's touch. He needed to reconnect with his parents, but there was one thing stopping him – William Waite. He swallowed back the bile that burned his throat, and took a cleansing breath before he began.

"You won't get mad at me?" He asked, his eyes making his face look more like a scolded puppy than a grown man.

"Never," she whispered, feeling as if she was finally making progress with him.

"I already knew that Waite had resurfaced."

"You WHAT?"

Johnny grimaced, knowing that she was going to feel lied to. "I said… I already knew that Waite had returned. I knew before you got that letter from Kizzy."

Iris felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown in her face. "Wha… But… How?"

Johnny gripped the bedspread, kneading it nervously in his hand. "I had already been contacted… By, uh… By Lieutenant Crockett."

Iris' chin dropped at the revelation. If what Johnny was saying was true, then why had he reacted the way he did in her shop when she had shown him the letter from her friend? Why hadn't he told her then? And, more importantly, why was he telling her now?

"I'm sorry… I'm really sorry I didn't tell you the whole thing when you showed me that letter, but… I hadn't decided what to do then."

"And now you have? You're gonna run away from everything you've worked so hard for and everyone who loves you? You're gonna let that sonofabitch take you away from me, too? No, Thorn. NO!" Iris cried. Her hand flew to her mouth and her shoulders began to heave.

"Hey, hey, I'm not leaving you," he soothed, rubbing the back of his hand down the side of her arm. "I just need some time to think… A peaceful place to think."

"To think about what?" Iris' eyebrows pulled themselves together, narrowing her eyes. "Wait a minute… Why did a Lieutenant contact you?" She asked, suspiciously.

Johnny knew that he had to explain himself to her, so he inhaled deeply and forged ahead.

"Lieutenant Ronald Crockett is a detective with the LA Police Department. The District Attorney back there found out my real name, AND searched the records of the DMV and found my address here in Los Angeles." He stared hard at Iris, knowing that what he was about to say was going to upset her. "Only three people back there knew my real name. Three. You, Lily, and Kizzy. I know that you and Lily didn't call the DA and tell him, so that means that Kizzy did it."

"Kizzy, but why? Why would she do that?"

"Because she wants him to pay for what he did, and the DA won't prosecute him unless I'm willing to testify."

Johnny waited for understanding to appear on her face. Slowly, she rose to a standing position, turning her back to him. When she spoke, her voice hitched.

"Testify? At Waite's… trial?"

"Yes… It's on the docket for February, but there won't be a trial unless I testify."

"Trial?" She repeated. "For… Murder?"

"Yes… It seems that the other man who was with him that day made some sort of death bed confession. He told the DA the whole sordid story about what they did to Phillip. I'm assumin' that when the DA told Kizzy that they had gotten a break in her son's case, she told him about me. Don't you see? Kizzy told the authorities how to find me because she knows they need all the evidence they can get against Waite." He turned his face away from Iris slightly, swallowing hard to control his emotions. "There were three people who saw what he did to Phillip. Two are dead, including Phillip, and that leaves me. I have the only evidence against Waite for the crime."

"Murder, Thorn. You witnessed Phillip's MURDER." Iris bowed her head, remembering the sound of Kizzy's wails of grief when her son's body had been found.

"If I testify, Kizzy's gonna know that I had the proof all along. She'll be devastated."

"Do you still have them?" Iris asked, knowing that a lot of time had passed since that day.

Johnny only nodded, thinking about the small cylinder he had kept hidden all these years. "Yea… Still in my old camera bag."

E!

"1-2-3-4 CLEAR!"

'Zzchunk.'

"No conversion," Roy shouted as Chet resumed CPR and Marco assisted with artificial ventilation.

The three-alarm fire had been blazing strong for over two hours before the responding stations finally got the upper hand. Just when it appeared that they would have it under control, part of the upper floor of the apartment complex gave way, sending three firemen into the smoldering abyss. They were quickly dragged to safety within seconds of the collapse, but the last man brought out had been unresponsive.

Dwyer had left the scene with one of the injured men from 99's, while another squad had taken care of the second code I. Roy was left with the most seriously injured man, a boot from Station 69. His partner had tried to keep him from falling, but had been unable to hold onto the younger man as the roof gave way.

"Again!" Roy shouted to Mike, while Hank manned the biophone.

"1-2-3-4 CLEAR!" Mike shouted, his voice sending Marco and Chet leaning back on their heels, relinquishing all contact with their victim.

The steady rhythm on the data scope let Roy know that the young lineman was trying to stay with them. "He's back. Let's get 'im out of here."

The trip to Rampart was fraught with anxiety. The lineman coded again, just as the ambulance was beginning to back into the bay at the emergency entrance. Roy rode the rails of the gurney, giving the young man chest compressions while the orderlies rushed him down the corridor.

"Three," Dixie directed, seeing Joe Early rushing from the elevator doors as soon as they opened. "In here, Joe." It had been a long shift for not only the fire department, but the hospital staff, too.

Twenty minutes later, a dejected Roy stepped tiredly into the hallway. His once light blue uniform shirt now saturated with his sweat. He looked into the smut-covered face of Chet, who had driven the squad to Rampart to retrieve both of 51's paramedics.

"Roy?"

Roy merely shook his head, leaning his back against the wall. "We tried but… We couldn't bring him back," he said in a husky whisper. "He was only 23 years old." His head fell back against the cold tile wall, sending a chill down his spine. "Just a damn boot."

Chet swallowed back the bile he was beginning to taste. He was exhausted, frustrated, and now a sense of defeat blanketed him. "I'm sorry, man. We gave him all we had," he said, trying to console his shiftmate.

"Yea, well… It wasn't enough," he groused. "Where's Dwyer?"

"Bathroom, tryin' to clean up a little. Dr. Brackett thinks his guy will recover, but he's gonna have some bad scarring."

"At least he'll go home to his family," Roy said, exhaling loudly. "Let's go."

The two men lumbered down the corridor, meeting Dwyer as he exited the bathroom. He recognized the look on Roy's face, and simply gave him a sympathetic look. The ride back to 51's was quiet, each man silently praying for their fallen brother, and grateful for those who had survived the disaster.

As Roy backed the squad into the bay, Chet glimpsed at his watch. It was a couple of minutes until nine o'clock. He and Caroline had an agreement that he would never call after nine o'clock, as he didn't want to wake Corrie. If he didn't call her while he was on shift, then it meant that he was out on a run. He still had a couple of minutes, but he had no idea how the conversation between Caroline and the Marks had gone, and he didn't think he could handle any more bad news tonight.

He shuffled towards the locker room, hoping to get cleaned up and have a peaceful night, but the klaxon gods had other plans. As the two red vehicles pulled out of the apparatus bay on another run, he tightened his chin strap. This was going to be a very long night.

E!

The following morning, an exhausted but excited Marco Lopez rushed out of the station as soon as his relief arrived. He didn't want to miss attending Mass with his family, and Beverly had agreed to go with them. His heart was pounding with joy and excitement knowing that today he would be surrounded by those who meant the most to him.

Chet didn't feel the same sense of urgency to get home. He yawned as he dragged his duffel bag onto his shoulder, and walked towards his van. Because he hadn't called Caroline last night, he had no idea what awaited him when he returned home. He needed sleep and food before he talked to her. He just hoped that Mim and Greg had been able to talk to her and explain their views on the engagement, and that Caroline hadn't changed her mind about wanting to marry him.

Opening the door, he tossed his bag into the passenger's seat, remembering the day he had taken Corrie for tacos. The child had sat in his passenger's seat, wearing his Station 51 baseball cap, her eyelids drooping beneath the oversized cap. He smiled wistfully as he drove away from the station, his heart aching for what he might have lost - the beautiful woman he loved more than life itself and the chance to be the earthly father of the little girl who had him wrapped around her finger.

Back inside the station, Roy piled his dirty laundry into his bag, dropping it onto the bench in front of the lockers. He then began collecting his partner's belongings.

"Want me to help you get Johnny's car to his apartment?"

Roy turned at the sound of Mike's voice. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all. Do you have his keys?"

Roy pulled the Rover's keys out of the side pocket of Johnny's duffel bag and held them up.

"Alright, you drive it and I'll meet you over there. Then I'll bring you back here to get your car," Mike suggested as the two of them walked across the back parking lot. "Is he at your house, or did he go home?"

Roy shot Mike a glance that let him know the subject was a sensitive one. "At his place, I guess. I asked about him at Rampart on our first run over there after Dwyer got here, and Sally said that some lady had come and picked Johnny up."

"Ohhh, some lady, huh?"

"Yea," Roy replied, his voice clearly sarcastic.

E!

Chet pulled his van into his usual parking spot, grateful to have gotten home safely. He was so tired that he didn't remember most of the drive. He trudged across the courtyard, casting a long look at Caroline's apartment door. When it opened, he felt his heart leap into his throat.

Caroline had been watching for her fiancé to return from the station. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but the dark circles beneath his eyes and the slump in his shoulders told her that his shift had not been a good one.

"Oh, Chet," she said, hurrying over to the place where he stood at the base of the stairs. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Realizing how he must look and smell, he stepped away from her when she reached out to him. "Sorry, babe, but…"

His breath hitched when his thoughts ran quickly over the list of disasters that had befallen his brothers. He pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing his breathing to calm. "Y-yea," he whispered, looking into her worried eyes. "I'm just exhausted, but… But Johnny got hurt." He quickly held up his hand to settle her down before she could interrupt him. "He'll be okay; he fell out of a tree. He'll be out for a few shifts. But…" He hesitated, sighing as the back of his throat burned. "We were at a three-alarm fire and… And the upper floor collapsed and…"

Caroline saw how difficult the conversation was for him. Instinctively, she reached out for his hand, curling her fingers around his palm.

"Station 69 lost their newest man. He was just a boot… A kid," he said, returning the squeeze he felt her give him. "Just a goddamn kid."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry." She turned her head back to the open door of her apartment. "I need to go check on Corrie, but if you want to talk-"

"Nah," he said, waving his free hand in front of him. "I just need some food and sleep. I'll… I'll be okay."

"Mom and Dad Marks are coming over today. They, uh… They wanted to take the three of us to lunch."

Chet heaved a sigh. "I don't know, Caroline. I'm not gonna be much company."

"You're tired," she said, cupping her small hand along his jaw line, caressing his whiskered cheek. "We'll bring you take out. Um," she wasn't sure that it was the right time to tell him about Corrie's trip to Disneyland, but she decided to forge ahead. "Pop and Grammy want to take Corrie to Disneyland tomorrow. She'll be going with them after lunch. We'll have a couple of days to ourselves… If you feel like it," she said, unsure of how the last twenty-four hours might have impacted his desires.

"Are you gonna tell 'em 'bout us?" He asked in a husky voice.

"I already did." Her face beamed with joy. "They're so happy for us, Chet. They even want to pay for the wedding. Isn't that great?"

Forgetting how dirty he was, Chet nearly collapsed in her arms, inhaling the scent of her shampoo when she threw her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. He enveloped her into his smoky embrace, kissing her lightly on her cheek. He felt the dam behind his emotions begin to crumble, and he allowed himself to cry. He wept in her arms, crying for the life that had been lost the previous night, and the life that he felt had been given back to him by Caroline's announcement. Tears of joy and tears of pain mixed as they streaked his smutty face, leaving his blue eyes red and his face a combination of soot and damp skin.

"Oh, baby. I love you so much," he crooned, finally releasing her. "Let me get cleaned up and get a couple of hours of sleep. Then I'll go out to eat with all of you."

"Are you sure?"

"I've never been surer of anything in my life."

E!

"Thorn, are you sure you can manage those stairs at your apartment?"

Johnny looked over at Iris sitting behind the steering wheel of her car. They were about to back out of her driveway, and he knew that she wanted him to stay with her a few more days, but he needed some time alone to think about what lay ahead for him. Could he really provide the evidence for the state in William Waite's trial? Would he be able to stand up against the man that had induced such fear in him as a teenaged boy, so far from home?

"I'll be fine. I feel a lot better, and I still have pain meds." He quickly held up his hand to silence her protests. "And I'm not gonna drive 'til I've been off of 'em for twenty-four hours." He looked straight ahead, feeling the car lurch when she shifted into reverse. "I know the rules."

Iris backed out into the street, shifting her car into drive with an exasperated grin. He still had the same personality he had when they had met after she picked him up as a young hitch-hiker years before. "I just don't want anything to happen to you. I still think of you as a kid, I guess."

"You always will," he snickered.

"You'll let me know when you're ready to go back to the station to get your car, right?"

Johnny opened his mouth, ready to explain how the guys at 51's always looked out for each other. When something happened to one of them, the others would rally around him; meals would be prepared, chores completed, vehicles returned to their rightful homes. His mouth snapped shut when he realized that he could no longer count on his shiftmates. Their relationship with him was changing, and that was difficult to accept, even when he knew that his own actions were the cause. "Ahh, yea… Yea, I'll let ya know. I appreciate everything," he said without looking over at her.

Traffic was light because it was Sunday morning, so the trip to his apartment didn't take as long as it normally would have taken. He looked at his watch as Iris turned into the parking lot of his complex. When he looked back up, he saw a familiar sight that elicited a lopsided smile of appreciation, and a lot of remorse. "Oh, I guess Roy must've brought the Rover home for me," he said, noticing his car parked in the corner spot, nearest his unit.

Iris smiled, grateful that Johnny still had friends who were willing to assist him. She knew how lonely he had felt at one time in his life. She hoped that those dark days would never return for him. That's when she knew that she had to stop him from carrying out his plan.

"Here, let me help you get out."

"Nah, I've got this," Johnny said, stretching his long legs out of the open car door.

"Oh, no you don't," Iris chuckled, opening her own door. "I'm not gonna let you fall."

Across the parking lot, unnoticed by Johnny and Iris, Mike sat in his rental car waiting for Roy to return Johnny's keys. He had watched Roy standing in front of Johnny's door for nearly a full minute, knocking. Suddenly, a familiar face emerged from a vehicle he didn't recognize. Mike reached for his door handle, preparing to walk over to the vehicle Johnny was exiting, but he saw Roy walking quickly around the corner of the gray building. The senior paramedic stopped suddenly, and Mike was shocked by the curse he could read escaping from Roy's lips.

Behind the corner of the building, Roy bounded down the stairs, wondering where Johnny might have spent the night. He ran his hand through his thinning hair, headed to the place where he had seen Mike park his car, but when he rounded the corner of the building, he came face to face with a scene he couldn't explain. Iris Campbell was helping Johnny out of her car.

"What the hell?"