Chapter 22

Roy stood in the hallway, feeling awkward in the green scrubs he was wearing as he waited for the first patients to arrive. Triage would be Dr. Buchanan's job, but Roy had been told that he would be assigned the lesser acuity patients, and that plan left him feeling as if he had fallen into an alternate universe, waiting for the patients to be brought to him from the field instead of riding in with them. He didn't like it, but he knew he had the skills needed to assist the limited medical staff of the small hospital, and he wanted to help out in any way he could. He watched Chet assisting an orderly who had taken charge of transporting Johnny's gurney, pulling it down the hallway through a set of double doors. Hank walked beside them with the IV bag elevated to maintain the gravity-fed fluids flowing into his junior medic. Roy stared as the doors swished closed, wishing he could be with his partner as he continued to recover from the near-fatal drug overdose.

"Roy?"

The paramedic turned towards the sound of his engineer's voice, seeing Mike standing beside Marco.

"He'll be okay," Mike continued, knowing where Roy really wanted to be at the moment.

"Dr. Buchanan told us that he's recovering well," Marco added. "Cap and Chet will take good care of him. We've decided to stay here and help out, if we can."

Roy shifted his eyes, looking in between his two coworkers, seeing three nurses frantically rushing around setting up the treatment rooms. He then returned his gaze to his friends who stood ready to help in spite of their own fatigue.

Roy glanced at his watch, realizing that they had been at the hospital much longer than he had realized. "Where's Beverly?" he asked, concerned about the counselor.

"She's gone to get us something to eat from the vending machines. When she gets back, she'll be in Johnny's room with Cap and Chet," Marco stated, grateful to have such a caring woman in his life.

"I'm glad she'll be there when Johnny comes around," Roy commented, still uncertain if all of Johnny's comments were related to the drug overdose. "I think he'll really need somebody to talk to about all of this." His heart sank once again. There had been a time, not so long ago, when Roy would have been that person. Perhaps this time Johnny needed someone with more experience. He certainly didn't need Roy after the fight they had had at Johnny's apartment just before Johnny joined the cult.

Roy was brought back from his musings by the distant wails of a duo of sirens. Turning to look out the automatic glass doors, his anxious voice stated the obvious to his comrades.

"Looks like they're here."

E!

Johnny felt as if he were teetering on the edge of an abyss. His body was a bundle of contradictions. His legs felt too heavy to move, and yet, they wouldn't remain still, constantly twitching beneath the sheet. His eyes were nearly closed, yet he could see the blurry movement of people around him. His ears were hearing voices, both muddled whispers and distinct vocalizations, yet he couldn't understand what was being said, only that the conversations were about him. He felt as if he were floating, and yet, knew that he was confined to a gurney. He shivered from the coolness of the air around him, yet his body was perspiring from the internal inferno burning inside his being. His entire body ached, and yet he felt nothing. He was lost – physically, mentally, and emotionally. And the one person he wanted to be with, the one person who made him complete, was no longer by his side. The other half of his soul was missing, left behind at the compound by the men who had taken him against his will. His anchor was gone, and now he was adrift in the sea of nothingness.

The events from earlier in the evening began to flood his mind. He drifted back to the place where he and Lily had been sitting beside each other, staring into the flickering flames of the fire in the pit nearest them. He heard the melodic notes of Ian's flute and tasted the honey- sweetened hot beverage that Lily had insisted he drink. The tranquility of the night had been interrupted by the arrival of his shiftmates.

As Johnny lay quietly on the gurney, his thoughts drifted back over his stumbling walk from the fire pit to the gate of the compound. Had he not consumed the second cup of tea, he probably could have outrun his coworkers. He was the lightest and fastest man on his shift. He pondered the poor timing of Lily's offering, remembering how she had insisted that he needed an additional cup to relax his aching muscles. He swallowed back the bile that was rising in his parched throat. If only she had known that his coworkers were coming for him… Or did she? He was beginning to have a niggling feeling that the second cup of tea had been more than a coincidence.

He felt the gurney moving and knew that he was being transferred to a different room. It wasn't as if he was a stranger to hospitals. Even though he was still in a semi-conscious state, his faculties were aware enough of his surroundings to know what the movement meant. But where were they taking him? He tried to open his eyes fully, but found the task to be beyond his capabilities at the moment. He heard Hank and Chet conversing, unable to discern their words. Where were the others? They had been in the back of the van with him earlier… How long ago had that been? Tiny snippets of his abduction were floating around inside his brain, falling like snowflakes into a river – present for a moment, then disappearing as they floated away from him. The details were sketchy, but he was sure that Mike had been there, and Roy…

Roy. The thought of the man who had been his best friend for years made his throat itch and his eyes burn. With greater awareness came the realization that Roy had not joined the Ku Klux Klan. The man he had served alongside for several years, his departmental partner, had been present in the hospital with him – caring for him, not there to harm him. Moisture slipped from beneath his eyelids, coursing down from the corners of his eyes, winding across his tanned face until they disappeared along the oxygen tubing at the edge of his scraggly whiskers. At least they didn't seep into his ears as they had done in his younger years.

Johnny had spent his first year in California being homesick for his parents. He loved them more than life itself, and having to distance himself from them, even though it was to save them from the Ku Klux Klan, had nearly killed him. He thought of all the nights when he had lain in bed at Iris' house, crying for his parents. He knew that Iris could hear him, Lily too, but neither one said anything about his nocturnal whimpers. They understood how hard he was trying to be strong, to hide his weakness in front of them, to be the warrior he needed to prove himself to be.

He was jolted back to the present when the gurney came to a stop and the voices around him became more pronounced. He felt his leaded body being transferred to a hospital bed, felt the covers being tenderly tucked in neatly around him. His oxygen tubing was adjusted and his IV bag was hung on the pole near Johnny's head. Why did the hands that had snatched him away from Lily, hands that had forcefully held him down against the flooring of the van, why were they now ministering to him? Nothing made sense. Everything was wrong. His throat burned and his eyes began to water even more. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. He felt his nostrils flare and his respiration rate increase, resulting in a muffled cough.

"John?" Beverly said softly, removing the damp cloth from his heated forehead. She dipped it into the basin of cool water, wringing it out and then replacing it on his fevered brow. "John, can you hear me?"

Johnny pressed his lips together tighter. He didn't want to respond, couldn't even if he had wanted to, but the coughing fit began again.

"Take it easy, Pal. I know it must be rough. We're here for you," Hank said, checking his medic's pulse once more, then tightened the straps on the brace on Johnny's left hand. He wanted to ensure that the integrity of the IV had been maintained during the transfer.

"John, if you can hear me, open your mouth a little. I've got a cup of water with a straw for you. It'll help soothe your throat and ease your cough," Beverly stated, bending the straw and slipping it between his barely opened parched lips.

Johnny felt the plastic tube brush across his lips, and instinctively closed his mouth around it, pulling a small amount onto his burning tongue. The cool dampness offered him some relief from his misery. He swallowed, releasing a raspy breath. When the straw remained in place, he anxiously clamped down again, withdrawing another sip, this one a little larger than the first. He released the grip his lips had on the straw, gulping as he swallowed the water. The relief to his burning throat was immediate. The energy he had expended drinking the water had depleted him, and once again, sorrow and depression slipped their arms around him, easing his transition from near consciousness back into the deep darkness.

Beverly saw the tears seeping from beneath Johnny's long fluttering eyelashes. Seeing that he had ceased his sipping, she set the cup of water back on the bedside table and reached for the cloth laying on his forehead. Gently she wiped his face, removing the tears that had stained it. Again, she soaked the cloth in the cool water and replaced it on his forehead while Hank checked his vitals again.

The seasoned fire captain released the bulb on the blood pressure cuff and removed the stethoscope from his ears. "BP is up some more," he said, placing the medical equipment on the table. He picked up the pen and began writing down the latest numbers. "Pulse and respirations are improving, too."

"That's good," Chet commented, placing the last bite of his stale vending machine sandwich in his mouth.

"Yes, and…," Beverly hesitated, looking back and forth between the two men. "And he can hear us, I think. We need to talk to him, encourage him to wake up."

"Whatever Gage needs to come back to us is what we'll do," Chet said, looking over at his pale friend who was tucked neatly beneath the blanket. He shivered, involuntarily, at the thought of losing one of his friends. He was determined that neither death nor resignation would separate the members of his shift, and he had decided to do whatever he could to save Johnny from the emotional demons that seemed to be slowly dragging him away. "We're brothers and we never leave a brother behind."

E!

Iris sat in the darkness of her living room, listening as the pendulum on her wall clock methodically ticked from side to side. She lifted her eyes, looking at the face of the clock from the glow of the street light outside of her window. She sighed with the realization that it was nearly two o'clock in the morning and she hadn't heard anything from Ron, or the men from Station 51.

She shivered against the chill that ran across her shoulders and pulled her robe tighter around her plump bosom. She knew that things had not gone as planned or she would have been contacted by now. Against her will, her mind drifted back to the church services she had reluctantly attended with Kizzy during her time in Selma, during the Civil Rights marches.

Iris had been reared in a Protestant congregation as a child, but had become disillusioned with religion after being rejected by her family because of whom she chose to date. How could a religion that was founded on the love and grace of its deity allow people to reject their own child because the love of her life had different colored skin?

She also knew that even though Kizzy's congregation worshiped the same God, they were only slightly more accepting of Jon Campbell's choice for a wife. It seemed to Iris that too many people chose to believe only parts of their religious doctrine, and not the entire scripture. Yet, she had found a bit of comfort when she had attended the service at Brown's AME Church before the melee, on that fateful Sunday. Again she wondered how the people had maintained their faith when things had gotten so bad just a short time later.

As the ghostly sounds of the Negro spirituals faded back into her memory, she could almost hear Kizzy's sweet voice reminding her of where the older woman found her strength.

"God is with me, Iris. It don't matter what no man does to me down here, 'cause I know where I'm goin' when I leave this world. I know the Lord's gonna take care o' me. The Lord hears our prayers, girl. He don't always answer 'em like we might want, or as quick as we want, but he hears 'em. Maybe you oughtta try it again sometime… He'll give ya the piece this world can't give ya. Them folks that do us wrong, they gotta answer to the Lord one day. You see, child, the Lord can do what we can't do. So we gotta believe and jus' keep the faith. Keep on believin' even when ya can't see no way outta the mess you in. 'Cause He's done seen it all for ya and He'll jus' carry ya right on through it all. The good book says that vengeance is His…"

Iris' eyes began to refocus on the present, leaving the image and fading voice of her mother-in-law in the past, but the message remained inside of Iris' heart. With tears burning her reddened cheeks, she slipped out of her chair and onto her knees. And there, in the quiet darkness of her living room, she poured her heart out to the God she hadn't directly addressed since she was a child.

E!

Ronald Crockett looked down at his watch, sighing at the late hour. The chaos in the emergency room was beginning to slow down. The detective looked over at the payphone on the wall, and knew he needed to call Iris. He had to tell her exactly what had happened, and let her know the final outcome of the mission.

He wiped his forehead with his hand, blowing out his cheeks with a loud exhalation, and made the short walk to the phone.

Picking up the receiver, he rolled the dime around in his fingers before dropping it into the slot and dialing the operator. He propped one hand on his hip while he gave the friendly operator the information needed to connect to Iris Campbell's residence, then deposited the required coinage to pay for the charges.

As the phone began ringing, his dark eyes scanned the corridor in the emergency room. A few of the FBI officials were congregated outside treatment room three, while a couple of nurses passed between the treatment rooms carrying supplies. He would have to be careful of what he said so as not to compromise the investigation.

"Hello?" a desperate sounding female voice answered on the second ring.

Ron heard the anxiety in Iris' voice, even though she only spoke one word. Wanting to relieve her stress as much as possible, he quickly blurted out the news Iris had been waiting for. "We got 'em."

There was silence on the other end of the phone, but the detective could hear the ragged breathing and knew that Iris' emotions were getting the best of her. He didn't rush her, allowing her the time she needed to compose herself.

"B-both… of them?"

"Yes… they're both out… and Gardner won't be hurting anyone else – not ever."

Iris sniffled, using her free hand to push herself off of the floor where she had been kneeling. The fact that she had been praying when she received the call was not lost on her, and her heart began to pound in the upper part of her throat. Had the God of her childhood answered her prayer so quickly, even after all the years of silence from her?

"W-when will… will they be… home?"

Ron again exhaled loudly. This was the part of the phone call that he had been dreading.

"Iris… I need to tell you what happened, and I wish I wasn't doing it on the phone. Please hear me out before you say anything… Okay?"

"Oh no… Are they… al-alright?" she asked, worried about the answer she would receive.

"They will be. Look… When we first got to the compound, we managed to get Johnny out. The guys from 51's think that Lily got away, but-"

"NO! No, Ron, you said you got them both-"

"Iris!" He said in a raised voice, needing to halt her rising panic. "We did, but I'm trying to tell you how it happened."

"Okay, alright… I'm s-sorry… Go on."

Ron leaned against the wall, his own fatigue catching up with him. "I knew more than I could tell you until now; even the fellas from 51's didn't know this part… In fact, they still don't, but I'm gonna tell them as soon as I get off the phone with you."

"Okay," she responded softly, not fully understanding his confusing comments.

"The FBI has been after Gardner for a few years now, but couldn't pin anything on him. Iris… You need to know that Lily wanted to leave, but she couldn't. Others who tried to leave were… Well… most who tried to leave didn't survive."

"ACK!"

"Sshhh," he crooned into the receiver. "You need to know that Lily has never stopped loving you, and she wanted to come home to you, but couldn't. The FBI infiltrated the cult, got a guy on the inside. He befriended Lily, and she began working with the feds to help bring Gardner down. I had to help her get away from the fellas from 51's when we first snagged Johnny; she had to finish the job with the feds. Anyway, she put on a wire, and helped us get audio evidence of his activities, including murder."

"W-where's my baby girl, now?" she asked in a voice husky with emotion.

"She's here with me," Ron stated, not yet disclosing that he was at a hospital in Tehachapi. "It was tough, but she got the evidence she needed, and-"

"I want to talk to her. Please put her on the phone, Ron… Please," she whimpered. "I need to hear my sweet girl's voice."

Ron winced, realizing that he wasn't explaining things very well to her. "She can't come to the phone right now. But soon, Iris. Very soon, I promise. Anyway, Gardner has been involved in... well, let's just say illegal drug activity," he said, careful not to mention that the religious leader had been manufacturing and selling drugs, including opioids like heroin, and he was even in the process of creating new synthetic drugs. That was a conversation he would have to have with the others after the investigation was over.

"Ohmygod, Ron…"

"We think he was using his cult members to experiment on. Some of them are in the hospital now with symptoms of an overdose. If we hadn't raided the place, some of them might have died. Johnny is one of them." He deliberately withheld the fact that Lily had caused Johnny's overdose by giving him a second cup of tea from a different, more concentrated, container that resulted in his near-fatal overdose.

"Argh," she gasped, closing her eyes as hot tears spilled onto her cheeks. "Will he… be okay?"

"Yes, we got him to the hospital in time to be given an antidote. He'll be here for a few more hours, but he'll recover fully."

"And… You said Lily was there with you… She's hospitalized, too?"

"Yes… Iris, she's being treated for anxiety, not a drug overdose. It's been a very long night and she's been through a very traumatic experience. She's… She's resting comfortably now. If she were awake, I would've put her on the phone, but-"

"But she's okay… gonna be okay, right?" the frightened mother asked. She needed to hear the words again.

"Yes… Both of them are going to be fine. You have my word."

"I… I need to come there. I've got to see them."

Ron knew he couldn't stop her, wouldn't even if he could. "I would ask you to wait until morning, but it wouldn't do any good, would it?"

Iris released a soft snort. "No… It's been too long since I saw my daughter. She… She needs her Momma."

A huge smile spread across Ron's dark features. Iris was right and he knew it. He also knew that Momma needed her baby girl, too. "We're at Tehachapi Hospital. It's about a two-hour drive from LA."

"Ron… What happened to Gardner? Did that bastard get arrested?"

The detective stood up straighter, looking back down the corridor at the place where the federal agents were gathered. He hadn't planned on discussing details other than Lily and Johnny's condition with Iris.

"No… He… He, uh… He and his two body guards seemed to have acquired a fatal dose of lead poisoning during the raid. He'll never hurt anyone else – not ever." Again his dark eyes scanned the corridor, hoping that anyone who had overheard his comments, didn't understand the cryptic message. The investigation was still an active one, so he couldn't release too much information. He just hoped she understood.

"Fatal dose of… lead-" Iris stopped mid-sentence, gasping as the realization dawned on her. "You mean… Ron, are you telling me that this nut and his bodyguards were killed during the raid?"

"Um… Gardner is no longer a threat to anyone… Except maybe the devil when he busts hell wide open," the detective said with a sneer.

"Good riddance… Ron, thank you," she whispered, the lump in her throat constricting her ability to speak. "Thank you for giving me my… my family back."

Crockett's heart nearly melted at the sincerity in her voice. Her words touched his soul. "You're welcome, Iris. Please be careful, and I'll be waiting for you when you get here."

"I will."

Just as Ron hung up the receiver, he heard clapping and jubilant voices coming from the entrance to the treatment room where James had been taken. When he turned around, he saw a gurney being pushed out of the treatment room, and the man lying on it was James.

With confident strides, the lieutenant walked over to the crowded area. He noticed that James was battered, but seemed to be alert.

"Well, well… Is this what happens when you get your ass kicked by a hose jockey?" the detective chided, referencing their earlier conversation in the meditation gardens.

"No…," the injured man said, squinting from the pain of the lights in the hallway. "This is what happens when you get your ass kicked by a couple of professional goons," the relieved agent replied, wincing when his split lip was tugged by a slight smile. "It's just a mild concussion. That fireman did NOT get the best of me."

"Yea, yea… but I DID pull DeSoto off o' you, remember?" Crockett asked with a grin. Patting the wounded agent lightly on the shoulder, he continued his conversation. "You did good, James… Real good. Try to get some rest."

James looked around his swollen left eye, seeing the blurry image of the police detective. "I'm glad to be on your side, Crockett, but I'm even gladder to be out of that hell hole." He grunted when he raised his hand up to his sore chin. "I can't handle this damn beard any longer. I've got to get a shave and a haircut."

"Two pence," a couple of guys said in unison, then the entire group burst into laughter.

"I'm gonna go check on Ian and Lily," Crockett said with a smile.

"Let me know how they're doing," James tossed back just as the orderlies began to push the gurney down the corridor towards the doubled doors.

"Will do," Ron responded.

"Say, is Johnny still pissed off?"

Crockett stood stunned. He hadn't thought to tell James about the overdose. "Um, not exactly. He's, uh, he's recovering from an overdose, James. The second cup of tea that Lily gave him was spiked with a stronger dose than the first one." He watched as the FBI detective gulped.

"W-what do you mean?"

"He had already consumed a small dose of what we think was heroin in the tea. Lily gave him a second cup, to help lower his resistance to being, um... removed from the premises, but she didn't know that it was a much stronger batch. Johnny went into respiratory arrest when we first got him here. Doc thinks he's going to be fine though."

James was glad that he was already lying down, otherwise, he might have collapsed. "Sonofabitch," he mumbled as the gurney was pushed away from the assembled group. "I was the one who asked her to do it."

The detective saw the worried look on James' face as he was wheeled away, through the double doors. When Crockett turned back around he was greeted by the exhausted face of Roy DeSoto who was exiting the room where Ian was being treated. The two men exchanged weary glances and slight nods. The paramedic gave the detective the information he was wanting before he ever had the chance to ask for it.

"He's going to be fine. The nurse is preparing to transfer him to the floor." Roy nodded towards the waiting room where a middle aged man was waiting, his knee bouncing rapidly. "Ian's older brother from Pearsonville."

"His family is here already?" Ron asked.

"Yea… Ian gave me the number as soon as he arrived. I gave his brother a call when I had a chance, and… I think I nearly gave him a heart attack, but he agreed to come right away."

Crockett released a low whistle.

"Ian didn't know if anyone in his family would come for him. Their reunion was…," Roy hesitated, knowing that he had been a witness to one of the most tender moments between two adult men that he had ever seen. "It was… Emotional. He, ah… He needed to be alone for a few minutes to compose himself. Doc's probably going to let Ian go home in a day, or so, and Alex," he said, again quirking his head in the direction of Ian's older brother. "Alex is going to take him home to live with him and his wife until he gets back on his feet. It's the best possible outcome."

"Definitely," Crockett mused. "The Red Cross has been called in to set up a temporary shelter for the members who didn't need to be brought in here. The compound is a crime scene now so they can't stay there. Suddenly realizing that he hadn't told anyone else about Iris, he chose to speak up. "Iris is on her way," he said, his dark eyes returning to Roy. "She'll be here in a couple of hours."

Roy's blood-shot eyes perked up. "Here? Tonight?"

"Yea, I called her to let her know that Lily and Johnny were out. She wouldn't wait until morning to come and see them," he said with a wistful smile. He admired her dedication to her family. It was just one of many qualities he liked about the florist.

"Have you told them?"

"No… I was about to go check on Lily. Wanna come with me to tell her?" Crockett asked, hoping for a little moral support from another man. He had never handled crying women well, and he knew that there would definitely be some weeping over the news. Even joyful tears made him uncomfortable.

"I'm not sure if she's been moved yet, or not. Dr. Buck was going to send her to the floor earlier. He wants to keep her a few hours for observation."

Ron propped his forearm against the tile wall, leaning his weight against it. "Be honest with me, DeSoto. Is she gonna be okay?"

Roy crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder against the same wall. Both men were tired, even though they were accustomed to working long hours with only a little sleep. It was different when it involved close friends. "I think so. She's going to need a lot of support from Iris… and Johnny, too, but I think she'll recover – physically, at least."

"Did she have some kind of nervous breakdown?"

Roy shook his head, hearing the worry in the detective's voice. "Not exactly. The stress of the situation affected her. Then when she thought she had killed Johnny… It just sent her over the edge. She went into emotional shock. Dr. Buck has her on an anxiolytic, which has her calmed down."

Ron allowed a soft smile to spread across his face. "So maybe a little TLC from Iris and Johnny will heal her?"

"For the most part," Roy said, pushing himself off the wall and leading the detective down the hall to the treatment room where he had last seen Lily. "As for the mental aspects… I think she'll need professional help, therapy, you know?"

Ron saw the shadow cross Roy's ruddy face. He knew the other man was worried about his own partner. When Roy's hand hesitated at the door of the treatment room, Ron placed a supportive hand at the back of Roy's neck.

"Let's go see Johnny when we get through in here."

Roy gave a slight nod of agreement, then pushed the door open. Inside he saw the pale face of Lily, snuggled beneath the blankets on the gurney. A nurse looked up from the chart when she heard the door opening.

"I thought you were George coming to move her," she said in a quiet voice.

"Is she being moved to a room?" Ron asked, his voice barely a whisper. The last thing he wanted to do was awaken the sleeping patient.

"Yes… 110. It's a private room, so she'll be able to get plenty of rest. Has anyone located her family?" the red-haired nurse asked.

"Yea… Her mother is on her way. She'll be here before dawn," the detective said, inching closer to the sleeping form.

For the first time, Crockett was able to get a good look at Lily. He saw the light sprinkling of freckles that adorned her nose, the soft mocha complexion that he thought was so beautiful. But it was the dark circles beneath her eyes that haunted him. What had this young woman endured at the hands of a madman? She and Iris had lost so much time, but they were about to be reunited, and part of him wanted to be present when the joyful reunion occurred. Yet, he knew that it was a private family moment, and he wasn't a part of the family.

He leaned down close to her ear, not knowing if she could hear him, or not. He saw the shape of her eyes and the slight upturn of her nose, features he had seen on Iris. He smiled wistfully, then whispered softly.

"Your mother will be here soon, Lily. She loves you very much."

Roy felt the tickle beginning in the back of his throat and the familiar stinging in his eyes. His thoughts turned to the distant future and wondered what it would be like to switch places with Iris. How would he feel if it were Jenny who had been lost for so long? What would their reunion be like? He lightly coughed into his closed fist, forcing the intrusive thoughts out of his mind. He wouldn't allow the painful ponderings to linger. He couldn't imagine the pain such an event would cause… And he hoped he never would.

Ron straightened up, then turned to the nurse. "You said room 110?"

"That's right."

"I'll wait for her mother and then escort her to the right room. That will be okay, won't it?" Crockett asked.

"Yes," the nurse said in a muffled voice, smiling as she closed the chart. "Dr. Buck has relaxed all of the visiting hour rules for this event. Family and friends can come and go as they please. He says it's better for the patients."

"He's right," Roy piped up, thinking about Johnny. "And I really need to go check on my partner, if you'll excuse me," he said, turning to leave.

"Hold up, Roy," Ron commented. "I'll go with you. I'd like to see Gage, too; I just need to see for myself that he's okay."

E!

Inside his hospital room, Johnny lay still with his eyes closed. The head of his bed was raised slightly to make it easier for him to use the emesis basin. Thankfully though, the nausea had dissipated, but left behind a throbbing headache. He pretended to be asleep, not wanting to face the people who were in the room with him. He listened to their soft whispers, appreciating their efforts to communicate quietly, yet wishing they would leave. They had ruined his plan, jerked him away from the woman he loved. He gripped the sheet a little tighter, wanting to be anywhere but here, with anyone but these people… No, he really wanted to be with Lily, but she was gone. His last memory of her was the fading scream of her exit as she ran from the melee while he was being forcefully dragged to Chet's van. That could only mean one thing. Lily considered the Family and Unity Gardens to be a safe place, a place to run to when she was afraid. Because of how deeply indoctrinated she had become, he feared he may never see her again.

"Do you think he's gonna be… addicted to this shi, er, stuff?" Chet asked, managing to prevent the obscenity from escaping his lips as he cut his eyes apologetically at Beverly.

"Not after being drugged once. It takes a lot longer to become addicted to heroin, I think," Hank replied.

Johnny's muddled brain heard Hank's comment and a sense of panic began to rise in his chest. Heroin. Had he really been drugged with heroin? That was impossible… wasn't it? It was only herbal tea…

"Depends," Beverly mentioned, staring at the pale form lying in the hospital bed. "Heroin can be addictive after just one episode." She was about to say more when a soft knocking wrapped on the door.

Being seated closest to the door, Mike opened it, mouthing the word 'sleeping' to the two guests. Roy was the first to walk in, nearly gasping at the sight of his strong partner looking so weak and frail beneath the white sheets. He entered the room, followed by Ron.

"How are his vitals?" Roy asked quietly, aiming the question towards his captain.

"Much better. He's been asleep for about half an hour now," the fire captain explained.

"Went out pretty much as soon as the nausea stopped," Marco added.

"So what's going on with the others?" Mike questioned, remembering how James, Ian, and Lily looked when they had first arrived at the emergency room.

Roy and Ron quickly updated the rest of the crew on the condition of the trio. Ron also chose that moment to explain what really happened back at the compound. The men of 51's and Beverly were surprised to learn that Lily and Ian had been participants, too.

Johnny's heart rate increased and his breathing hitched. The pounding in his head grew stronger and he felt nauseous again. He forced his body not to gag; he didn't want to alert the others that he was awake. His mind was reeling with what he had just heard. It had all been a set up. Everything had been orchestrated by the FBI. James, Ian, and even Lily had been involved… and they hadn't told him. Instead of seeking his assistance, they had drugged him. That had to be it. That's why Lily had insisted that he drink a second cup of tea. They wanted to get rid of him, remove him from the situation. The three of them knew that he was a fireman and a paramedic, yet they didn't think he was capable of assisting them. Why? Did they really think he was that untrustworthy? That inept? Did they consider him a liability instead of an asset? The truth slammed into him full force. He had shared with them most of the details of what had happened in Selma a decade earlier. They knew of his weakness.

The sense of cowardice took him back to the morning of Phillip's murder. His entire body trembled through the sweat-soaked sheets, and the noxious scent of stale water seemed to fill his nostrils, even though he knew that was impossible. He was in a hospital, not near a river. He pressed his lips together again, stressfully, trying to remove the putrid smell from beneath his nose. This was why he had always hated water rescues; they reminded him of the one rescue near water that he hadn't even attempted. They reminded him of the place where he had stood by and watched an innocent man die. He never admitted his fears to anyone, not even Roy, but he loathed calls that involved water rescues because they always resulted in the same outcome. He would be left shaking uncontrollably, feeling light-headed, and usually vomiting. Roy called it seasickness, but Johnny called it what it really was – he was nothing more than a white-feathered gutless coward.

"So DeSoto really did assault an FBI agent?" Chet asked, his blue eyes holding a hint of a mischievous sparkle.

Roy rolled his eyes at the junior lineman's comment. He stopped paying attention to the conversation going on around him since he had already been briefed by the agents who came in with their battered comrade. While Ron continued with his story, Roy walked over to the bedside table and scanned the vitals that Hank had documented on Johnny. After running his index finger down the page that chronicled Johnny's return from the brink of death, his eyes shifted over to Johnny's silent form.

Johnny was lying partially on his right side, away from the group, gripping the blankets near his chin. Beneath his closed eyelids, his eyes were twitching. A light sheen of sweat had formed across his face which seemed to have grown paler since Roy arrived. He wondered if Johnny was truly asleep, or if he was simply listening to the conversations of the others. Instinctively, Roy reached beneath the edge of the blanket, grasping his friend's wrist, and began counting his pulse. Noting how rapid it was, he stood by, watching the younger man's respiration rate. It was also faster than normal for someone who was sleeping. The fact that Johnny had flinched when Roy touched him did not go unnoticed.

"Johnny?" Roy whispered softly, ignoring the conversation the others were having around him. "Johnny, can you hear me?"

Johnny heard the melodic voice of the man who had been his best friend for years. He had thought Roy had left the hospital because he hadn't seen him or heard his voice since he had been moved to a private room. Now he was here and Johnny's heart ached. Once again, his eyes began to sting and the back of his throat felt scratchy. The air felt thicker and he struggled to breathe normally. Silently he chastised himself, gritting his teeth together tightly in an effort to dam his tears. But Roy's voice, the touch of the older man's hand, breached the dam and his tears began to flow. He was torn between wanting to grab hold of Roy, like a drowning man, and wanting to push him away.

Roy saw the moisture leaking from Johnny's closed eyes, and his heart broke. He didn't know what his partner might be thinking, but whatever it was, it was creating a very emotional response from Johnny. He knew he needed to apologize for his actions at Johnny's apartment, but he really didn't want the others to hear him. Yet, his own emotions began tugging at his heartstrings, and he knew what he needed to do.

"Johnny, if you can hear me… I want you to know… how sorry I am for what happened at your apartment that day."

Johnny sniffled, shutting his eyes tighter. He didn't want to hear Roy's apology. He didn't want to go back to that time. And he certainly didn't want to face the man who had been his best friend, knowing that Roy knew what he had done so long ago. But he needed Roy, or Lily… Or somebody… He needed help, but he didn't know where to turn, or what to do. He was dying a slow and agonizing emotional death.

Roy watched as Johnny seemed to withdraw even further into himself, shrinking lower beneath the covers as if he were afraid of Roy. He placed a comforting hand on Johnny's shoulder, feeling the thin shoulder jerk away from his touch as if it had burned him.

"Jo-Johnny…," Roy choked out his whisper. "Please…"

Beverly watched the tender moment play out in front of her. Feeling the need to intervene, she stepped to the other side of Johnny's bed, facing the young man who was shutting out his best friend. She tenderly caressed his scruffy face, seeing the twitching of his lips and the quivering of his chin. He was listening, but he obviously didn't want to interact with them.

"John, we're all here with you. There's nothing to be afraid of. You've been given naloxone to combat the effects of the drugs." She saw him shrink down more in the bed. "This isn't your fault."

While Beverly spoke to Johnny, Roy composed himself, finding his voice. "Johnny, listen to me. James, Ian, and Lily are here at the hospital, and they're all going to be just fine. They're resting, same as you, but they'll come see you… Or I'll take you to see them, as soon as everyone is feeling a little better, okay?"

Beverly added to what Roy was saying, hoping that the two of them would finally get through to their friend. "John… Iris is on her way here. Ron said she should be here in about an hour, or so. She's so excited that both you and Lily are safe now. She can't wait to see you. Lily needs you, too."

Johnny heard the comments, but wasn't sure how to process them. Iris had lied to him. She had broken her promise to him after all these years. Had she merely used him to get her daughter back? If Lily was really at the hospital, if she was really out of the cult, then Iris would finally have what she wanted most. She would have her daughter back. Maybe Iris didn't care for him as much as he had thought. So many times she had said that she loved him like a son. Would a mother go back on her word to her child? He knew the answer. She didn't really love him. She had been kind to him, but ultimately, he wasn't family. Strengthening his resolve, he summoned up the courage to say the words that were on his heart. He needed to be alone.

"All of you... Just go… away….. pl-please."

Roy and Beverly exchanged worried looks. It was Roy who spoke first, leaning down nearer to Johnny's ear.

"Johnny, please don't kick us out. We want to help you-"

"NO… get… out," Johnny reiterated, his breath heaving anxiously. He couldn't handle the reminders of his former life. He had enjoyed a wonderful few years in the department, developed deep friendships, and had led a fulfilling life. Now he felt as if fate was mocking him. He had lost everything, including Iris… Even Lily didn't trust him. He couldn't face his best friend or anyone else in the entire DeSoto family. And he had long ago lost his parents. They were still alive, but their relationship had been damaged by the distance he had put between them. When his thoughts turned to Lily, he became even more confused. Had she really deliberately poisoned him? That was the most disturbing thought of all.

He had sworn that he would never allow himself to become this close to other people because of the pain he experienced when the relationships ended… And they always ended, one way or another. This fact was even more proof of his spinelessness. He preferred to run away rather than face a painful truth. He had run from Waite, run from the KKK, run from the impending trial, run away from the department and from his best friend – he preferred to run away rather than face the pain of his past. He loathed himself and everything that his life seemed to represent.

Hank and the rest of the men became aware of what was happening and their conversations ceased. He stepped over to the place where his junior medic lay, noting the silent tears streaming down his face.

"John? John, we're all here. Just take it easy, pal. Everything will be alright soon."

"N-no," Johnny grunted, his eyes remaining tightly shut. "Get… out," he said through clenched teeth.

"Can't do that. I promised the doctor that we'd stay with you until he comes back by," Hank explained.

"Ahem," Johnny said, trying to clear his throat. "Please… Please jus' leave me… 'lone."

Beverly stepped over with a cup of water, bending the straw towards Johnny's mouth. "Listen… John, will you let Marco and me stay with you so that you aren't alone?" She cast her eyes around at the stressed faces of the men. "Maybe you fellows could use some coffee while you wait for Johnny to be released, huh?" she asked, expectantly. She could see that the situation was going downhill and she wanted to stop the downward spiral. While she waited for the men to consider their options, she pushed the straw gently into Johnny's mouth, feeling a sense of relief when he began to drink.

Hank ran his hand along the back of his head, squeezing the nape of his neck to release the tension. He looked over at Beverly and then at his senior lineman. Maybe Beverly was right. Perhaps they all needed a little space.

"It's your call, John," Hank stated, stepping nearer to the bed. He watched as Johnny seemed to contemplate his options, then gave a silent nod of affirmation.

Roy exhaled an exasperated sigh. "Yea… okay," he commented, casting one last look at his partner. When he turned to head for the door, he tossed over his shoulder. "I'll catch you later, Johnny. We really need to talk, but it can wait until you're feeling better," he said, reaching for the door handle. "I'm, ah… I'm really glad you're going to be alright." He quickly pulled open the door and exited the room, feeling completely exhausted and totally inadequate as a friend.

Hank raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner before patting Johnny on his shoulder and following Roy out the door. Mike stood up, following behind Chet and Ron. He turned back for a moment, offering a hint of a sad smile to Beverly and Marco. "We'll be in the waiting area. Let us know if you need anything."

Marco nodded his agreement to his engineer, reaching out for Beverly's hand as the door closed. He didn't know what to say to Johnny, but he knew that Beverly did, and for the umpteenth time since they had been dating, he was grateful to have her by his side.

E!

Iris Campbell blinked her eyes exaggeratedly as she turned her station wagon into the parking lot of the Tehachapi Hospital. The drive had been a long one, but she had made good time. She pulled into a vacant parking spot beneath the glowing blue and white sign, shifted into park, and sat behind the wheel.

It had been three years since she had last seen her daughter, and even though she had just spent the last two hours trying to decide what to say to her first, she still had no idea what she might blurt out. Lieutenant Crockett had only told her that Lily was resting after being treated for anxiety. He had mentioned that Lily had been trapped in the cult. He had even told her that her daughter had never stopped loving her… But Ron never said that Lily was ready to see her again.

Using a folded napkin to dry her misty eyes, she tossed the previously discarded item back onto the long bench seat, pulled her purse onto her shoulder, and headed for the emergency room entrance. She had already lost three years of time with her daughter, and she refused to waste another minute. It was time to see Lily, and to make sure that Johnny knew exactly how much he meant to her for helping reunite them.