Chapter 23

Entering the small waiting room, Iris saw Roy laying across three chairs, snoring. Beside him, Mike was napping with his head tilted to one side, a position she knew had to be uncomfortable for him. Chet was dozing in a corner, his head leaning against the wall, while the captain of the crew leaned his head against the back of the chair he was sitting in, with his long legs propped in a chair in front of him. Iris' eyes scanned the scene, wondering where the others might be at the moment. Ron had agreed to meet her here. His absence sent her panic rising. Had something happened to Lily?

"May I help you, ma'am?" a polite receptionist inquired of the nervous florist.

"Um, y-yes… I'm-"

"Iris?" Roy's head jerked up at the sound of Iris' voice. He struggled to stand up, using the heels of his hands to rub the sleep from his eyes.

Iris, ignoring the woman who had first spoken to her, rushed to the place where Roy was stretching his back. Without thinking, she lunged into his arms seeking comfort from the paramedic.

"Roy… Where…," she sniffled, pulling back slightly. "Where are they?"

Roy held her upper arms, as much to steady himself as to ground her and calm her fears. "Marco and Beverly are with Johnny in his room. And," he peered over his shoulder, seeing the other men stretching groggily as they gathered around them. "And Crockett is with Lily. He didn't want her to wake up alone."

Iris' lower lip began to tremble, unable to hold back her emotions. When she had composed herself, somewhat, she looked around the waiting area. "And they're… okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hank spoke up. "Johnny… He asked to be alone for a while. He's…" Hank wasn't sure how much to say, and so he chose to say as little as possible. "He's recovering well. The doctor will probably release him in a few more hours."

"And Lily?" Iris asked, her voice quivering.

Roy pulled her into a sideways hug, knowing that she was petrified. "Iris, I treated her myself. She had a very harrowing experience, but she's going to be fine. It's been very stressful for her," he began, ensuring his voice remained calm. "I'll take you to her now, but just try to understand that… Lily thought that she had killed Johnny. We tried to convince her that that wasn't the case, but I'm not sure how much she really understood. She was so upset that… that Dr. Buchanan had to give her an anxiolytic."

"A tranquilizer?" Iris gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

"Yes, but don't worry. She needs rest and… And some of your tender loving care," he said, steering her towards the double doors that led down the hallway to Lily's room. "And later on, a visit from Johnny," he said, knowing that his partner needed the visit, as well.

The walk to room 110 was made in silence. When the duo arrived, Iris slowly pushed on the door. As the opening widened, she saw a sight that took her breath away. Lily was asleep, snuggled beneath the pale blue blanket, curled partially on her side. Her right hand had slipped from under the blanket, and sitting beside her, holding tightly to her exposed hand, was Ronald Crockett. His head was bowed, his dark thumb caressing the back of Lily's lighter colored hand. Iris gulped. The image was exactly what she would have imagined Lily's father doing, if he were still alive.

Roy pressed his hand lightly on Iris' shoulder. "I'll go back to the waiting room. Dr. Buchanan is allowing unlimited visiting hours, so you can stay with her until she wakes up. When you're ready to see Johnny, just come and get me. I'll go with you."

Iris turned to him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Thank you," she said in an airy whisper.

Slowly she pushed the door open wide enough to walk through. The sound caused Ron to look up at her with relief in his eyes. He slowly maneuvered Lily's limp hand out of his own, then stood up to greet Iris.

"I was just sitting with her until you arrived," the detective whispered. "I didn't want her to wake up to an empty room."

Iris listened to what Crockett was saying, but her eyes were glued to the sleeping form of her daughter. She nodded her understanding to him as her eyes filled up with tears.

"I'll be out in the waiting area," he announced, turning to leave.

"Th-thank... you," she said with a whimper, struggling to speak past the lump in her throat.

Crockett quietly opened the door, turning back for a glimpse before he left the room. When he saw Iris slip off her shoes, gently pull back the covers, and slide into the bed, he lost the battle with his own emotions. His eyes filled with unshed tears when Iris pulled Lily close to her side, kissing the top of her head and cupping the side of her face. He allowed the door to close on the heartwarming scene, grateful to have been a part in the reunification miracle.

"M-momma," Lily whimpered in her sleep.

"Yes, baby girl... Momma's here... Everything's gonna be a'right," she sniffled, caressing the side of Lily's face. "Go back to... sleep," she crooned, holding tightly to the daughter she hadn't seen in years.

In the hallway, Crockett scrubbed his face with his open palm as he turned to walk back towards the waiting area. The tired detective felt the prickly sensation of his stubbly day's growth. As he passed by the bank of windows in the hallway that connected the patient rooms with the emergency department, he saw the magenta hues of the early morning sun, pushing the darkness out of the sky. He paused for a moment, reflecting on the changes the new day would bring. For Iris, the woman he was quickly growing fond of, the darkness had finally been lifted. The most precious person in the world to her had returned, and he had been a small part of making that miracle happen. Lily had finally escaped the chains that had kept her bound for years, and her captor would never see this new day dawning. Ron inhaled deeply, giving a wistful smile heavenwards as he turned to walk back to the waiting area. There was still one more shadow that needed to be lifted, and it would take everyone working together to bring the light back into Johnny's life.

He walked into the waiting area, seeing most of the men from 51's sleeping. He wished he could take a nap, knowing that the drive home would be a long one without sleep. He sighed as he took a seat in the hard plastic chairs, wondering how John Gage was doing. He was concerned about the young man's mental state, especially with the upcoming trial. Although Johnny hadn't agreed to testify, he knew that he was going to be subpoenaed, anyway. John was the only witness still living who could positively identify William Waite as the perpetrator. He hadn't heard anything back from Quantico on the film he had sent in. He wondered what evidence the pictures might reveal, and if the FBI lab was able to develop the decade old film.

E!

Johnny shifted in his hospital bed, annoyed by the oxygen tubing rubbing his whiskers. He removed it, looping it over the bedrail. His full bladder made its presence known. He was glad to have avoided conversing with Marco and Beverly, but he could no longer rest in his current condition. "Ahem," he began, clearing his throat to alert the others that he was awake.

"Hey, how do you feel?" Beverly asked, hoping to finally have a chance to talk to him about his earlier outburst.

Before Johnny could answer, there was a soft knock on the door and Dr. Buchanan walked inside.

"Mr. Gage?"

Johnny rubbed his face with his free hand, then repositioned himself in the bed, intentionally avoiding eye contact with Marco and Beverly.

"Ahem… Yea."

Beverly reached for Marco's hand, knowing that they needed to give Johnny a moment of privacy with the physician. Her planned conversation with John would have to wait.

"We'll wait outside," she said, stepping towards the door.

"Can we get you anything, Johnny?" Marco asked, looking back at his friend.

Johnny merely gave a quick wave of dismissal, turning his head away from the sound of Marco's voice. "Thanks," he mumbled.

When the visitors had exited, Dr. Buchanan stepped over to the bedside table and reviewed the log of Johnny's vitals. He noticed Johnny fidgeting in the bed and figured he knew why. "You've had three bags of fluid, Mr. Gage, to compensate for the vomiting and sweating. How's your urine output."

"Bladder's gonna explode if I don't get to the bathroom quick," Johnny muttered, pushing the button to raise the head of the bed as he kicked his legs out from beneath the covers.

"Let me disconnect your IV and give you a hand," the physician said, lowering the bed railing and clamping off the flow of the fluid. He then offered Johnny his steadying arm.

"Whoa… Damn," Johnny cursed, feeling the room spin when he stood up.

"Just take it easy," Dr. Buck said, allowing Johnny to lean most of his weight on him.

"You'll let me go by myself, though, right Doc?" Johnny snorted, nervously.

"Yes… You don't need my help with that, do you?"

"No… 's long as the walls don't move," Johnny grunted, holding onto the door facing and then the sink as he made his way to the toilet. He knew that Dr. Buck could see his naked backside, but the urgency of his situation left him uncaring. He pulled aside the thin hospital gown, using his IV'd hand to maneuver the material, while his free hand pressed his weight against the wall. The room seemed to tilt and he closed his eyes against the resulting nausea as he emptied his bladder, praying that the urine stream was hitting its intended target. He had suffered enough embarrassment in the last few hours. He didn't need to add a bathroom mishap to the growing list.

After flushing the toilet and washing his hands as best he could, Johnny maintained contact with the wall as he turned around and reached out for the proffered arm of his physician. Slowly, they made their way back to the bed. When he laid back against the pillows, he closed his eyes, still battling with his stomach, while the doctor adjusted his coverings.

"How's your nausea?" Dr. Buchanan asked, removing his stethoscope, preparing to check his patient's blood pressure after the exertion.

"It had gone… 'way… 'til I got up," Johnny heaved, blowing out his breath.

"You've had enough fluid, but I'm going to leave that cannula in your vein a little longer in case we need to give you something for the nausea."

Johnny closed his eyes, nodding his agreement.

Dr. Buchanan watched the slow fall of the mercury, then fully released the air in the bulb. "Pressure's still a little low, but that's normal. Any pain with urination, or blood in your urine?" He asked, positioning the stethoscope to listen to Johnny's heart.

"No. Why?"

"I was told you were, uh, manhandled. I was concerned about bruising of your kidneys during the experience," the physician said, matter-of-factly.

"But..." Johnny paused, allowing the physician to finish listening to his heartbeat. He knew how difficult it was to hear minute changes in rhythm when someone was talking. When Dr. Buchanan removed the stethoscope from his ears, Johnny spoke up. "I was dragged, not punched."

Ignoring his patient's foul temperament, Dr. Buchanan continued with his line of questioning. "Abdominal pain? Headache?" he inquired, writing down the blood pressure and respiration rate in Johnny's chart.

"No… Well, headache…"

"I'll order some aspirin for you. How about chills?" Dr. Buck asked, shaking the thermometer.

"Not anymo-umph," Johnny responded, cutting his eyes at the physician when he stuck the glass tube inside Johnny's open mouth.

Unbeknownst to Johnny, Dr. Buchanan had already had a lengthy conversation with Roy. He was aware of Johnny throwing his friends out of his room, and for the life of him, the physician couldn't understand why. Johnny's friends had saved his life, of that there was no doubt. With Johnny's mouth occupied with the thermometer, he decided to take the opportunity to speak.

"Mr. Gage, I know that this must be a difficult time for you, but you-"

Johnny jerked the thermometer from between his lips. "You have no idea, Doc. You have no idea what the hell you're talkin' about. I am NOT some junkie. I did NOT overdose on that stuff." Johnny's free arm began to flail about, animatedly. "I don't do that, so don't look at me like I'm just some kinda street trash."

Dr. Buchanan guided Johnny's hand back to his mouth, grateful that Johnny had not used his IV-laden hand to emphasize his point. He was also glad to see Johnny take the hint and return the thermometer beneath his tongue. "Are you done with the monologue?"

A snort was his only response.

"Good, because you aren't telling me anything I don't already know. From what I've been told, you're a damn fine fireman and paramedic... With no history of drug use. You went to the hippie commune on the mountain in search of your friend, and that's where you were when you were drugged." He held up his hand when he saw Johnny take a deep inhalation. He knew Johnny wanted to speak, but Dr. Buchanan needed to say a few things first. "You don't have to worry about this going against your record, Mr. Gage. It was an accidental poisoning, and that's how it'll be recorded in your chart. I'll be more than happy to send a copy of the records to your department heads, if you'd like. This will not prevent you from enjoying the rest of your career. I will personally see to that."

Johnny rolled his eyes and grunted. As soon as the physician removed the thermometer from his mouth, he spoke up. "I don't have a career, Doc. I resigned."

Dr. Buchanan knitted his eyebrows together. "Oh? That's not what your partner just told me."

Johnny's head jerked to the side, his eyes glaring at the physician. "You mean you talked to Roy about me? About my condition? That's confidential information, Doc."

"You were brought in here in a semi-conscious state. You were unable to make your own decisions, and I received information that Roy DeSoto was your medical proxy. He consented for your treatment which allows me to discuss your health information with him – to the extent needed to make decisions related to your care. You're in the medical field, Mr. Gage, so you know the routine."

"Yea," Johnny groused.

Dr. Buchanan stared at his seething patient, wondering if the behavior he was seeing was common for the young man, or if perhaps it was the result of the chemicals in his body. For that information, he would need to consult with those who knew his patient best. He decided to continue the conversation to see if he could garner any additional information from his uncooperative patient.

"Mr. Gage, how much do you remember about the last few hours, specifically, from the time you left the compound until now?"

"You mean from the time I was forcibly removed, don't you? Seems to be a common theme with my people," he muttered, surprising himself with his own hostility. Why was he being so hateful?

"Okay, from the time you were forcibly removed until now, what do you remember?"

Johnny stared at the pale blue blanket covering his legs. He thought back over the snippets of information he could pull from his memory, unsure if they were in the right order, or not.

"Being pulled away from Lily… Hearin' her screams as she ran away… Bein' held down in the back of a van… Chet's van, I think… Feelin' miserable here while I was pukin'…"

"Do you remember your captain and the others tending to you, while Roy and I took care of the others who were overdosed?"

Johnny continued staring at the same spot on the blanket. He seemed to remember pieces of conversations occurring around him. Perhaps he did hear someone say that Roy was helping the doctor with the others. How many others had there been?

"How are they? The others, I mean. Will they be okay?" Johnny asked, his anger simmering down. He didn't understand why he was vacillating between anger and depression. He felt as if some unknown entity was inhabiting his body and brain.

"Yes, the only casualties were the religious leader and a couple of his bodyguards."

"By casualties, you mean they… died?"

"Yes… But the other group members are okay, or will be. Several are feeling the same as you right now. They were given naloxone for their overdoses, too."

Johnny laid his head back, exhaling loudly. "And Lily?"

"She's recovering, as well. You can see her whenever you're ready, but not until you've calmed down. I can't allow you to upset her any more than she already has been." He watched as Johnny closed his eyes, giving his head a gentle nod of understanding.

"So she's here? In the hospital?" Johnny inquired, his voice relaxing a little.

"Yes... She, um... She collapsed at the compound. She thought... Well, from what I understand, she was told that she had given you a fatal dose of the opioid concoction.

"Aww, man," Johnny whispered.

Dr. Buchanan saw his patient's Adam's apple bobbing and surmised that he was growing emotional at the thought of his friend. "Mr. Gage, do you know how close you came to dying last night?"

"Not really," he said, his hostility waning. "I remember fading in and out at times. Did I really consume that much… um, h-heroin?" he asked, struggling to say the word.

Dr. Buchanan stepped closer to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. He was beyond exhausted and planned to go home for some much needed rest after finishing his rounds.

"It was an opioid overdose… I'm not sure that it was heroin. It's more likely that it was something more routine, morphine, perhaps." He shifted his gaze, looking intently at the young man lying in the hospital bed. "You went into respiratory arrest, Mr. Gage. You were refusing treatment in the ER. I was on the telephone with Rampart General Hospital to confirm that Mr. DeSoto was truly your medical proxy. He wanted you treated with naloxone and… and you didn't. While I was on hold, you stopped breathing."

"Damn it," Johnny groaned, feeling remorseful over his earlier behavior towards the physician.

"If your friends hadn't gotten you here when they did… We wouldn't be having this conversation right now." Dr. Buchanan heard a soft sniffle from his patient. "They saved your life, Mr. Gage. And Mr. DeSoto helped me treat and save the lives of several others who received the same drugs you did. He helped me take care of your friend, Lily, too. And a couple more who were assaulted."

"Assaulted? Who?" Johnny asked, concerned again for Lily. Dr. Buchanan had only said that she was recovering well; he never said what she was recovering from.

"Their names are James and Ian. I don't recall their last names," the physician stated, unable to stifle a yawn.

Johnny used both palms to scrub his face. When he lowered his hands down to his thighs, he looked over at the exhausted physician. "Lily wasn't... assaulted, was she?"

"No, I believe it was a combination of emotional shock and fatigue.

Johnny considered the information he had been given. "Thanks, Dr. Buck. Thanks for, ah… for not listening to me when I first got here... And for treating all of us."

Dr. Buchanan reached out, shaking the hand of his patient. "You're welcome, but I think it's your shiftmates who really deserve your gratitude," he said, rising from the edge of Johnny's hospital bed.

Johnny hummed his response.

"Try to eat breakfast. The food here isn't that bad. If it stays down, then you'll be discharged. I'd like for you to follow up with your family physician in a few days, just to make sure there are no lingering effects." He pulled open the door of the room, looking back over his shoulder. "There shouldn't be, but let's not take any chances. He can sign your release to go back to work when you feel like it."

"Um, Doc?"

"Yes?" Dr. Buck looked back at Johnny with blood-shot eyes.

"Where are my clothes?"

The physician gave a weary smile. "They're in a bag over in the corner, but they're dirty. Why don't I find you a set of scrubs to wear home?"

"Sounds good; I appreciate it."

After the door closed behind the physician, Johnny lowered the head of his bed. As he lay there in the stillness of the room with his arm draped over his eyes, he thought back over all the hateful, hurtful things he had said to his friends. They had saved his life, even after finding out what he had done back in Selma. He did owe them an apology for his behavior – all of it. They also deserved his thanks. For the first time, he was beginning to regret that he had resigned from his position at the department. Yet, he could never put on the uniform again. He could never pretend to be one of the brave firefighters of the Los Angeles County Fire Department. He wasn't brave at all. He was a coward. At least his resignation kept him from facing the embarrassment of termination. But why had Roy told Dr. Buchanan that he hadn't resigned? Why hadn't Cap told the others? Or had Iris chosen not to give Hank his resignation letter?

He wanted to talk to Lily, but he had no idea what he would say. What would he say to Roy and the others? They knew the truth about him and they had saved his life from a drug overdose. Just another shame to add to the growing list of things they knew about him. The past he had fought so hard to hide had been completely exposed. His stomach churned with the thought of facing the men from 51's after the events of last night. Worse than that, what would he say to Lily… And Iris?

E!

Iris jerked into wakefulness when Lily shifted in her hospital bed.

"Momma? You... You ARE here," Lily wept, gripping tightly to her mother's waist.

"Yes, I'm here," Iris said, hugging her daughter to her bosom, stroking her long dark hair. "Oh, my baby girl… I've missed you so much," she cried, feeling Lily's shoulders trembling beneath her touch. She kissed her daughter's forehead, then pulled her even tighter.

"I… I love you… Momma. I'm… so sorry, I-"

"Sshhh," Iris whispered, rocking gently back and forth. "It's okay, sweetie. I love you, too. I've always loved you. Everything's gonna be alright, now."

Lily melted into the warm embrace she had missed for so long. Time seemed to turn backwards, and once again, she was a child seeking comfort and safety in the trusting arms of her mother.

Lily rested her head on her mother's chest, wrapping her arms around the familiar plump waist, as Iris soothed her tears. They remained still for several long moments before Lily relaxed, her breath hitching with each inhalation. She shifted her face upwards, her swollen eyes glued to her mother's beautiful face.

"Momma… Have you seen Thorn? They keep telling me that… that he's here, but… I haven't seen him. I… I think I… Ack!" she cried, covering her face with her free hand. She could still hear Father Hiram telling her that she had killed her beloved Thorn with a fatal dose of the herbal tea. Having yet to see him, her heart was still broken, the fear of his dying at her hand stealing her breath from her lungs.

"Sshhh, sweetheart. Ron and all the men from 51's are telling me that he's here and he's going to be fine. I haven't seen him, yet, either. I wanted to see you first, but Roy said that he would take me to Johnny's room when I was ready to see him."

Lily's eyes widened slightly. "Johnny? You call him Johnny now?"

"It's his real name, Lily. He's a grown man and his friends all call him Johnny, or John. I've been trying to do the same thing. Kind of a new beginning, you know?"

A shadow crossed Lily's face. She turned her head away from her mother. "I want to see him, but… I doubt he'll want to see me."

"Don't say that, sweetheart. You told me that you didn't know what was in the tea you gave him. It was an accident. You didn't try to kill him, Lily. In fact… I know that you love him," Iris suggested, waiting with bated breath to see the reaction she might get. When she saw her daughter's lower lip tremble and her chin wrinkle, she knew she had gotten her answer.

"If you feel up to it, I'll see if the nurse will let me take you with me to see him. Would you like that?"

Drying her tears with the corner of the sheet, Lily nodded her head in agreement. She had to see him for herself, had to know that he was alive and well, even if he rejected her for what she had done.

Iris crawled out of the bed. "Very well. Let me wet a cloth for you to wash your face with, and then I'll go see about getting you a wheelchair." She pulled a washcloth from the shelf beneath the sink and wet it with cold water. As she turned to walk back to the bed, she saw Lily struggling to get untangled from the sheets.

"Here, let me help you with that." Iris pulled the blanket and sheet away from Lily's pale legs. She noticed how thin her daughter had become since the last time she saw her. "I brought you a dress and sweater to change into. I didn't know if you'd have anything to wear home."

Lily swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She hesitated when she heard the word her mother spoke last. "Home? I can go… home? With you?"

Iris sat down on the edge of the bed beside Lily, using the cloth to wash her face just as she had done when Lily was a child. She offered her daughter a wistful smile as she held her chin tight. "Absolutely… It's your home, too. It always has been and always will be."

Lily's shoulders shook. "I… I didn't know how you'd feel about taking… me back," she hiccuped.

Iris turned her daughter's shoulders to face her. "Lily Campbell, there is nothing you could ever do… Not ever, that would make me disown you, or push you away." She pulled her into a deep hug, wishing her own family had spoken those words to her all those years ago. "Nothing… Never."

E!

Roy hung up the payphone and headed for the complimentary coffee pot at the far end of the waiting area. He had waited until he knew that Joanne was awake before calling home. He felt a sense of relief having talked to his wife, just as he did after every difficult rescue. She was his rock, his fortress. Her words were a balm to his battered soul and he couldn't imagine life without her. She had given him strict instructions to bring Johnny back to their house for a few days to recover. Roy hoped that when he extended the invitation, his partner would accept it, but he had his doubts. Their relationship seemed to have been irreparably damaged.

Roy stirred the cream and sugar into his cup of coffee, then turned to walk back to his seat, but stopped suddenly. He looked around at the haggard group of first responders. Everyone was napping except for Crockett. Quickly, he prepared a second cup of coffee and carried it back to the place where the detective was staring intently at his fingernails.

"Coffee?"

The dark eyes of Ronald Crockett turned upwards in surprise. When he saw the proffered Styrofoam cup, he accepted it graciously.

"Thanks, man. It's been one helluva night."

Roy sighed as he took the seat beside his friend. "That it has, but… Everyone seems to be doing well… Everyone that matters, anyway," he said, taking a sip from his cup.

"Yea… I hope Iris and Lily are doing okay," the detective said in a husky voice, looking down the hall in the direction of the private hospital rooms.

Roy saw the concern on the other man's face and recognized it for what it really was. "I'm sure they'll be fine. They love each other, and that's all it takes - mutual love and respect." When he got no response, he cleared his throat and forged ahead.

"Ahem… Ron, she's really getting to you, isn't she?"

The blood-shot eyes of the ebony detective glared at Roy. "Who… Iris?"

"Mmhmm," Roy said, swallowing another hot sip of his morning coffee.

"She's a very nice lady who's been through a lot of shit in her life." Ron looked back down at his hands, running his tongue across his teeth, wishing he had a toothbrush. "I just wanna do what I can to help her out, you know?"

"Ahh, I think it's more than that…," Roy hesitated, swirling his coffee around in the cup before looking back up at the detective. "I've seen the way she looks at you."

"Naw… we're both tired, DeSoto. I don't think that's what you're seeing." The detective had also seen and felt what Roy was mentioning, but now that Lily was back in Iris' life, would that leave room for him? Crockett rubbed one eye with the heel of his hand. He needed sleep, but he also needed to finish the job they had all started. At least, that's what he was trying to tell himself. Truthfully, he wanted to know how the reunion was going between Iris and Lily. His stomach chose that moment to growl, giving him a valid excuse for changing the subject. "When's that damn cafeteria gonna open up?"

Roy twisted his wrist to glance at his watch. "Sign said they'd open up at 0600 so they should've opened about thirty minutes ago. Want to go get some breakfast?"

"Yea, but… I really want to wait on Iris. I don't think I can eat until I know everything's okay," the detective said softly, lifting his cup to his mouth.

"Mmhmm," Roy hummed again, allowing a slight smile to brighten up his face. He was right about what was happening between Iris and Ron, and he knew it.

The swishing sound of the double doors opening drew Roy's attention beyond the detective. He tapped Ron on his shoulder, slightly. "Speaking of Iris…" When Crockett looked over at Roy, the paramedic nodded in the opposite direction.

Ron turned his head and saw Iris, her eyes swollen from crying, pushing Lily in a wheelchair. The younger woman's face was splotchy and her eyes were swollen, as well. She was dressed in a floral dress with a yellow sweater draped over her shoulders and a blanket covering her legs. They were headed towards the waiting area, and everyone noticed the contented look on both women's faces.

"Well if this isn't a sight for sore eyes," Ron said, standing up and stretching as the two arrived, his booming voice awakening the sleeping firemen.

The men of station 51 quickly surrounded the Campbell ladies and Beverly joined them, reaching out her hand to grasp Marco's larger one.

"How do you feel, Lily?" Hank asked, noting how Iris was gently stroking Lily's long dark hair. He knew that she needed to maintain physical contact with her just to reassure herself that her daughter was really there.

A slight smile made its way across Lily's face. "Much better… Thank you," she said, sheepishly. "I want to thank you for… For all you've done for me… for us," she said, reaching up to grip her mother's hand as it rested on her shoulder. "And for Th-er, Johnny, too."

"Are you ready to see him?" Roy asked.

Lily sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down on it as the tears began to flow again. She nodded her head in response to Roy's question as Beverly thrust a tissue into her hands.

"Thanks," she managed to whisper, smiling nervously.

"You're welcome. And I think Johnny needs to see you, too. In fact," Beverly began, looking around at everyone gathered. "I think Johnny needs to see us all. I've been thinking about some of the things he's said… and hasn't said. I think I might know what's going on with him. And if I'm right, then he's going to need all of us to support him… and get him through it."

"Um... Would you all mind if I spoke to him privately for a moment? You know, before we all go in there," Iris asked, suspecting that he would be angry with her for telling the others about Selma. She had long ago promised to never tell anyone, but she had broken that promise by sharing the details with the men from 51's. She wanted a chance to explain her actions to Johnny. She needed him to understand why she had gone back on her word.

"Of course," Beverly acquiesced. "That'll give the rest of us a few minutes to figure out how we're going to handle our visit."

E!

Inside his room, Johnny sipped on the ice water that the morning shift nurse had left for him. He picked at the scrambled eggs and toast on his plate, forcing himself to swallow a few bites. He knew that eating would get him an earlier release from the hospital. He lowered his fork back onto the plate, arranging his napkin to cover up the uneaten portion.

He looked around at the stark white walls of his room, wondering why Marco and Beverly hadn't returned. Had they left him? He couldn't blame them if they did, but he knew it wasn't their way. Besides, he needed a ride home since he no longer had a car, or money for a bus.

Home… The thought slammed into him like a freight train. He no longer had a home, either. He had left Iris instructions to break his lease, and give away his possessions, including his money. He sighed, leaning his head back against the pillow.

"Argh, Gage… You've really messed up this time," he mumbled to himself.

A soft knocking sound on the door startled him. "Come in," he called out.

"How'd breakfast go?" his nurse asked entering the room with a bright smile, a stark contrast to his own dark mood.

"I ate as much as I could. No nausea or vomiting," he commented, holding up his wrapped left hand. "So can I get this out now? Of course, I DO know how to do it myself."

"Well, that would be a first," the young nurse stated, picking up the breakfast tray from the bedside table.

"Hey, I once had to START my own IV, so removing one won't be a problem," he said, pulling back on a piece of tape.

"Oh, that won't be necessary," she said, walking towards the door. "Let me take this back and get the supplies. I'll be back in just a minute to take care of that for you." When she reached to door, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. "Dr. Buchanan left orders for a set of scrubs for you to wear home, too. Now THAT'S truly a first," she chuckled, opening the door and nearly colliding with Iris.

"Oh, excuse me," the nurse said, stepping past the older woman as Iris placed her flattened palm on the door to hold it open.

"May I come in?" the familiar female voice called out.

Johnny sat up quickly in his bed, his mouth suddenly going dry. "Uh, um, yea… Iris?" He was stunned. Part of him had assumed that she would be with Lily, not checking on him. The other half was still angry at her for breaking her promise. Was that the reason for his uncharacteristic mood swings?

He shifted in his bed, pushing the bedside table away from him as she walked into the room. She was alone, and that fact sent a chill down his spine. "H-how's Lily?"

"She's doing well," Iris said, crossing the distance between them. She could see that his breathing was fast and that he had lost even more weight since she had last seen him. "She, ah… She's outside," Iris explained, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. "She…," she hesitated, reaching out to caress his scruffy face. His eyes held that same lost look that she remembered seeing when he first moved to California. He pulled back slightly before her hand had actually touched him. "Ahem," she said, clearing her throat as she returned her hand to her side. "Lily wasn't sure if you'd want to see her."

"Why?" he asked, his voice raspy and weak.

Iris was stunned by his comment. "Because she hurt you." Iris sat down on the edge of Johnny's bed reaching out to grasp his hand. She was grateful when he allowed her to touch him this time. "She didn't know, John. She didn't know what was in that tea. If she had known, she never would've given it to you. Gardner," she hesitated, her voice cracking. "When she returned to the compound, he told her that it was a fatal dose. He told her that… that she had killed you, and… and she collapsed inside the sanctuary."

Johnny had been wanting to be with her since he had been taken away, but now that he knew she was asking to see him, he wasn't sure if he could face her. She had intentionally gotten him out of the way, rather than ask for his assistance with the plan to get Father Hiram. Even if she hadn't intended to kill him, she still didn't believe in him enough to allow him to help. That thought hurt him deeply.

"She okay?"

Iris lifted her green eyes to look into the face of the man she loved like a son, seeing the same lost look she had seen ten years earlier. "Yes… but she'd be a whole lot better if you'd… if you'd talk to her… forgive her."

The silence between them confirmed her fears. He was more upset than she had thought he might be. "Will you at least let her see you for herself?"

"Why?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders as he picked at the blanket covering his legs. Was it just to relieve her own guilt?

"So that she'll know that you're alive… So that she'll know that we aren't lying to her about-"

"Like you lied to me?" he blurted out.

Iris narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

Johnny huffed, unable to look at the woman who had taken him in when he had nowhere to go, the woman who had been a surrogate mother to him since he was sixteen years old. "You told them."

Icy fingers wrapped themselves around her throat, constricting her ability to speak for a moment. "Ah… Ahem… Your friends, you mean?"

"The guys from the station, yes…," he began, summoning up his courage. He could no longer call them his friends. He knew there was no way they would consider him their friend, their brother, now that they knew the truth. He shifted his dark eyes to look at her, pinning her with the hurt in his chocolate gaze. "You told them about Selma… You promised me that you'd never tell anyone what happened… But you told them."

"I had to-"

"No!" Johnny said angrily, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. "You chose to tell them. They did NOT have a need to know. Why?" he asked, his voice cracking with emotions. "I trusted… you… And you let me… down," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Iris watched as the young man ran a nervous finger beneath his nose and sniffled. He turned away from her, unable to look at her after her betrayal.

"John…" She hesitated, waiting for him to look at her. When he didn't, she reached out, using the tip of her fingers to gently guide his chin back in her direction. "John, look at me, please."

Johnny felt the burning wetness leaking from his eyes, but found himself unable to resist her tender, motherly touch. He allowed his face to be turned in her direction, but all he saw was her blurry image sitting near him.

"John, I had to make a gut-wrenching decision. I didn't want to divulge that information to them, but I had to. I had to…," she had to swallow hard in order to continue talking to him. "I had to do something to stop you from… from throwing away everything… that you had worked so hard for."

Johnny pressed his lips together tightly as he listened to her choking voice, until he could no longer remain silent. "Throw it all away? No! YOU, Iris... You destroyed it for me!"

"I had to do it… because I… I love you. I love you so much… I had already lost Lily to those religious zealots, and… and I knew that I was going to… either lose you to the cult… or lose you by my… betrayal."

Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold the tears back behind his closed lids, but failing in his attempt.

"I decided that it was better… that I… betray your trust… than for you… to lose your dream." She breathed in a ragged breath. "I was losing you… either way," she said in a fading whisper, her cheeks dampening. She stood up, drying her cheeks with the backs of her hands as she turned towards the door. "I'm glad you're… you're out of there… and I hope that… one day, you'll understand… that I did it… to save you."

Iris allowed her trembling hand to rest on the door handle, dreading facing her daughter's disappointed face. "I'm sorry that I… hurt you, John. But I know that… what I did was... the right thing… for you. So...," she pulled open the door, looking back over her right shoulder for a brief final glimpse. "I can live… with it. But don't punish Lily because of what I did, please?"

Johnny sighed, running his hand through his disheveled hair.

"At least think about it. The doctor hasn't released her, yet, so we'll be here for a little longer," she said, walking out the door.

Johnny's chest was heaving as he fought an internal battle. Could he face Lily? No matter how hard he tried, Johnny couldn't get his mouth to cooperate with his brain. He didn't want Iris to leave, didn't want her to walk away from him, but he was powerless to stop her. He exhaled his breath, wanting to say so many things, but no audible words escaped his lips.

The devastation Iris had caused had left him heartbroken. He loved her, loved her like a mother, but he couldn't get the words out. He knew in his heart that she wouldn't have betrayed his trust if she had thought there was any other way. And he knew that she was right. She had been about to lose him to the cult. He would have stayed with the Unity Family and Lily for as long as it took to get past the trial, to escape the subpoenas, to hide from his cowardly past that had followed him like a dark shadow for over a decade. Once again, he smelled the stench of stale water, felt the coolness of the foggy morning, and heard the repeated thudding sound of blow after blow as Phillip Campbell lost consciousness before the noose was tightened around his neck. Again, the heart palpitations pumped in his throat, and the nausea began to bubble up from his belly. His entire body shook uncontrollably.

Johnny began to blow out his breath in short rapid pants. The familiar sweat beads popped out across his forehead and upper lip, and wave after wave of heat washed over him. He lay back in the bed, gripping the sheet with his right hand and slinging his left arm over his eyes. His face contorted in emotional pain. His body was responding exactly as it had done back in 1965, and for the second time in his life, he was losing everyone who had ever meant anything to him... and he had no one to blame for his losses but himself. With tears coursing down his face, dripping off his nose and into his lap, he lost all control of his emotions. Iris' words had been swift and accurate, piercing his heart and soul. What she had done had been difficult, but something that would clear her conscience. What he was doing was just as difficult, but the emotional chains were tightening around him. The path he was choosing was wrong. Running away from what he feared was wrong. How could a grown man, a fireman and paramedic who was able to run into burning buildings and repel down the side of skyscrapers, be afraid to face a wrinkled crippled old man from his past at a trial and how could Johnny horribly mistreat those in his life whom he cared about the most?

"Ohmygod," he whispered his airy cries into the emptiness of his hospital room. "Some...body... help... me..."

Outside the room, Iris frowned at her daughter. Lily remained seated in her wheelchair, still feeling weak from her earlier experience. When she saw the look on her mother's face, she knew that Johnny didn't want to see her. She had sacrificed the love of her life in order to take down the leader of the cult. She looked around at the assembled group of Johnny's friends, saw the dejected looks on their faces. Unable to contain her disappointment, she bowed her shoulders, covering her face with her hands.

"Nooo," she cried, feeling her mother's arms reaching around her.

"Sshhh, baby... It's okay," Iris crooned. "He just needs a little more time."

"I'm... so... sorry," Lily continued, weeping onto her mother's shoulder as the older woman bent down to hold her. "I... didn't know...what else to do," she wailed.

The shift nurse walked slowly towards the upset group. "Um, is something wrong?"

Beverly spoke up for the group. "John's being a little, ah... Difficult."

"Again?" the nurse asked with an understanding nod, remembering his sarcasm. "Maybe I can talk to him. I'm going to take out his IV and give him these," she said, holding out the folded clothing. "Perhaps that'll improve his mood."

Beverly huffed in frustration. Johnny was making a terrible series of mistakes, and she couldn't stand by and watch it happen any longer. She understood, on a personal level, what he was doing and why. Now she needed to intervene and force him to face his demons, to stop running AND stop pushing away those he needed most.

"Um... Would you mind if we talked to him first?" Beverly asked.

"I can take out his IV," Roy volunteered, wanting to feel like he was doing something for his partner.

"Well...," the nurse hesitated, contemplating her decision. She knew that Roy had helped out in the emergency room so she saw no problem with him continuing his medical assistance. "I don't see why not," the nurse agreed, handing the medical supplies to Roy while Hank accepted the folded scrubs.

"Will one of you be taking him home?" the nurse asked the group.

"He normally stays with me when he's sick or injured," Roy commented. "But I'm not sure if he'll be willing to do that this time," the paramedic said, staring down at his feet.

"Well, Dr. Buck won't release him unless he's going to be with someone, so I'm sure he'll agree to whatever arrangements you decide," the nurse stated. "I'll be at the nurses' station. Call me if you need anything. When he's dressed AND agrees to go home with you," she said, looking at Roy. "Then let me know. I'll bring his discharge instructions."

Beverly waited until the nurse walked away before she spoke to Lily. "He isn't refusing to see you. He's refusing to face his own past. I'm not entirely sure why," she said, looking over at Iris. "But I have a feeling that you do."

Iris' eyes widened in surprise. "Me? No... I've told you all everything I know, honestly."

Beverly eyed her suspiciously. If Iris didn't know what he was hiding, then perhaps no one did. "We can all help him come to terms with his past, if you're willing to help," she said, looking back and forth at Iris and Lily. "I've got to warn you; this won't be easy. Are you up for it?"

"Yes... We are," Lily said, sniffling as she curled her dark hair behind her ear. She squeezed her mother's hand. "I'll do whatever... it takes."

Iris nodded her head in agreement, thinking back over their conversations in an effort to recall any clues about what he might be avoiding, but nothing readily came to mind.

"Very well... Marco, may I speak with you for a moment?" she asked, hoping he would agree with what she had planned.

Marco agreed, and the two of them walked to the far end of the hallway to be alone.

"Wonder what that's all about?" Chet asked, his curiosity overwhelming him.

"None of our business, I suppose," Mike remarked, trying not to stare down the hallway.

After several long moments, Marco and Beverly returned. He seemed a little uneasy, but he was holding Beverly's hand. Whatever they had discussed seemed to have affected him deeply.

"So, how do we do this?" Chet asked, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Just follow my lead, and... speak up when you feel you should," the determined counselor said. "Ready?"

Just as they were about to walk into Johnny's room, and FBI agent walked hurriedly down the hallway. "Hey... Crockett?"

"Yea?"

"Got a message for you from my commander," the agent stated.

"Oh?" the detective said, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

"Yea... Wants you to call an Edward Morgan at Quantico. Here's the number," he said, thrusting a folded piece of paper into the hand of the detective. "Says it's urgent."

Ronald Crockett looked at his watch to check the time, wondering why the FBI was contacting him so early. "Oh, yea... They're on Eastern time," he commented. He held up the piece of paper. "Thanks, man." He turned to the group. "I'll take care of this while you all talk to Johnny. This may be news about Johnny's film they were trying to develop," he said, reaching into his pocket for the appropriate change for the pay phone.

"I hope they got it developed," Beverly stated. "If John won't testify about what he witnessed, maybe his film can."