Laying the crutches on the floor, he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, being careful with his injured left leg. With a deep inhale, he stared at his sleeping partner, trying to control his trembling lower lip, blinking away the tears that had involuntarily sprung to his eyes. His right hand went to his pants pocket and he fingered the spent bullet through the dark brown material.

Taking several deep breaths, getting himself under control, he laid his hand gently on Mike's left shoulder then watched as the older man stirred under his touch and slowly opened his eyes. The initial confusion quickly changed into a warm smile and happy sigh. "Hey," Mike said softly, "when did you get back?"

"Just now," Steve said quietly. "Did you go for a walk?"

Mike nodded, still smiling. "Sure did. Rudy and I walked all over the hospital. I think I wore myself out, but it was sure nice to be out of this bed." His smile slowly disappeared. "What about you? Did you give your statement?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, yeah. And I, ah, I saw the car…" His voice faded and he looked away, blinking quickly.

Trying not to wince, the older man lifted his head and stared at the downturned face, his brow furrowing. He raised his left hand and gripped Steve's upper arm tightly. "That bad?" he asked softly and his partner nodded slowly, still avoiding his eyes. Mike stared at him for several beats then relaxed his hold and laid his head back to stare at the ceiling. After a deep breath, he asked, "How many -?"

"Forty-seven," Steve cut him off, still looking down.

Mike inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Steve was looking at him and they both smiled self-consciously, almost breathing in tandem. Eventually Mike's hand tightened once more around the younger man's arm and he asked quietly, "What happened yesterday?"

Steve sat up a little straighter and took his hand off his partner's chest. He snorted an ironic laugh then grinned. Shaking his head, he said with a touch of awe in his voice, "It turned out to be an amazing day, Mike, it really did. You want to hear about it now?"

Grinning, Mike took a deep breath and chuckled, "I'm not going anywhere."

Steve bit his lip, then grinned back and laughed. "All right, get comfortable, there's a lot to tell." He stopped and gestured to where he was sitting. "Ah, do you mind…? I can sit in the chair –"

"No no no, stay there," Mike interrupted, "you're not in my way and it's easier to see you." He laughed and let go of Steve's arm. "Besides, you'll have my undivided attention and I won't dare fall asleep in front of you."

Grinning, Steve patted Mike's shoulder lightly again as he settled in. "I almost don't even know where to start…"

"How about the beginning?" Mike offered facetiously with a smirk.

"Ha ha," Steve mouthed, lifting his hand in a pretend smack. Mike laughed and it was such an unexpectedly joyous sound that Steve had to join in, a wonderful but brief respite they both sorely needed.

"Did Lonny drive you there?" Mike asked, his smile lingering, knowing it was good way to get Steve to start talking.

The younger man nodded. "Yeah, yeah, he's a great guy. He really knows his stuff. I learned a lot from him about life in the hollers, about the way people act and think around here, and why. I mean he could teach courses, he's that good."

With a contented smile, knowing the floodgates were about to open, Mike settled back into the pillow and stared at his best friend with was a warm, open smile.

Slowly, but with increasing animation, Steve told of their drive out to the Rutter homestead, his first impression of the house and surroundings that contrasted so vividly to the surprisingly warm and inviting house proper. He spoke in awe of the respect he was shown, not only by Robert and Ruth-Anne, but also by the family patriarch, J.D., who held a benevolent sway over the entire clan.

As Mike listen in rapt fascination, he told of relating their entire experience on the road and in the bush to Donny Lee's devastated parents, how their son had found a place for Mike to hide and how concerned he had been for the wounded man they had to leave behind.

Mike hadn't heard that before, and his breaths became deep and ragged and he closed his eyes. Steve grabbed Mike's left hand and squeezed, waiting until the older man eventually opened his eyes and nodded, ready to hear the rest. Steve smiled at him knowingly, and waited for several long moments before he began again.

He spoke about how he had told the Rutters they had been tracked down by the Scobie dogs, how he himself had been wounded twice and how Donny Lee had refused to leave him, even though he had been given Mike's .38. And about how their son had been shot in the back as he was running, dead before his body hit the ground.

Steve was looking down when he finished talking, and a disconsolate silence lengthened between them. Then Mike squeezed his hand and when Steve looked up, he smiled proudly. Steve smiled back and cleared his throat. "They took me to the cemetery… I felt very honored. I don't think anyone other than family has ever been there…. It, ah, it was very special."

"I bet it was," Mike said softly, squeezing his hand again. "You did good, buddy boy. You did really good. They'll never forget you, you know, forget what you did for them."

"Well, may be, but it was nothing compared to what he did for me, for us." He stared at Mike unsteadily, and the older man nodded. "I'm glad I went, I really am. I think I needed it, and I know they did."

"You needed it too," Mike agreed, nodding. "Regret is one of those emotions that can gnaw at you your entire life. But you won't have to worry about that now. You'll have nothing to regret about all this, believe me."

Steve nodded slowly in agreement. Then suddenly his face brightened. "Oh, ah, I forgot to tell you, they served refreshments."

"Refreshments? What, like lunch?"

"Pie," Steve said with a grin. "Apple pie like I've never had in my life. It was unbelievably delicious." Mike's eyebrows had risen quizzically. "Mrs. Rutter baked it, and I gather she's an amazing cook. They also gave me a great cup of coffee too. And not only me. Lonny was waiting in the car, and when we left for the cemetery – they had to drive me there – he was enjoying a slice of pie and a cup of coffee too."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope."

Mike frowned in amused disbelief. "This is the Rutters you're talking about, right? The folks we were told have notches on their belts and all that?"

Steve cocked his head. "Same bunch. Different lens, I guess. I tell you, I've learned you definitely can't judge these books by their covers, that's for sure. But Lonny was very matter-of-fact about it all. He told me that what the Rutters did for me, the hospitality, that's not beyond the norm for them, but not to let it fool me – they aren't changed, they will not change and, if anything, hostilities between them and the Scobies are going to escalate in the very near future, because of all that's happened in the past few days. Most likely they're waiting for you and me to get outa town, so to speak."

"Why?"

"Well, Lonny thinks that the families are using us as sort of a buffer, a temporary truce. But it won't last."

They both sobered, knowing that with the scale of weapons now available to both sides, it could only get uglier and deadlier. Steve's hand went to his right pocket once more; he couldn't make up his mind whether to show the bullet to Mike or not. The older man had closed his eyes and not seen the move; he took his hand away from his pocket and ran it through his hair.

Mike opened his eyes again and exhaled loudly, smiling suddenly. "Well, you seem to have seen a lot more of Kentucky than I have. I'm not sure if that's a good thing…" he chuckled and shrugged carefully.

Steve laughed, and it was good to hear the sound. "Well, I probably didn't notice as much of it as I should have – my mind was kind of on other things." He stopped, looked down and cleared his throat, and when he looked at Mike again, there was a twinkle in his eyes the older man hadn't seen in days. "Ah, there is one more thing."

Suddenly on alert, Mike managed to push his head a little deeper into the pillow and frowned. "Oh? What would that be?" He sounded skeptical and a little wary.

"Well, Mrs. Rutter sort of sent us a care package," Steve said carefully.

"A care package?"

"Ah, yeah, she didn't want you to feel left out so she sent you an apple pie."

"She did?"

"Yep, a whole pie. Well, I don't think it's all for you…" Steve said quickly, bobbling his head as he rolled his eyes and shrugged.

Mike glanced away, looking very pleased. "Wow, that's pretty nice of her." His eyes snapped back to the younger man. "Where is it?"

"That's a good question," Steve said with a nod, "I'm not really sure. I know Lonny said he'd look after it, but he's not here anymore. I'll ask one of the nurses. I'm sure they'll know." He paused and looked at his partner sideways. "Uh, that wasn't the only thing they sent…"

Mike looked at him suspiciously under a furrowed brow. "It wasn't?"

Steve shook his head, smiling mischievously.

"What is it?"

"It's a… a local treat."

Mike waited for more but when more was not forthcoming, he said slowly, "A local treat?"

Steve raised his eyebrows and nodded vigorously.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

With a broad grin, the younger man shook his head.

Mike smiled slyly. "All right," he began slowly, "let's see. Now something that you might call a treat, I might not call a treat. And you seem thrilled about it, so it's probably something borderline illegal."

"What?" Steve gasped with a chuckle, sitting back slightly.

"Gotcha!" Mike grinned, raising his left hand to lightly swat the back of his partner's head.

"Hey," Steve admonished, ducking out of the way, but they were both laughing. It felt good and they reveled in the moment. "All right, Lieutenant, you think you have it figured out? Spill."

Still laughing, Mike leaned back and shook his head. "Well, it could only be one thing – and that would be the thing the Rutters are famous for, am I right?"

Nodding in anticipation, Steve said nothing.

Mike sighed with a smile. "They gave you a bottle of moonshine, didn't they?"

"Ah, well, it's called a jar, not a bottle, and they just call it 'shine, but yeah, you're right."

Mike froze for a split second. "They gave a cop a jar of 'shine?"

"Yep. Ballsy, hunh?"

"Well, that's one word for it." Mike smiled and shook his head.

"So, ah, I couldn't really turn it down, and, actually, they gave it to Lonny to give to me after we'd left. So, ah, what do you think we should do?"

"Well, I'm eating the pie."

"I know that. I mean the 'shine."

"Right, the 'shine." Mike took a deep breath and shrugged. "Well, it would be kind of inhospitable to throw it out, wouldn't it?" he asked slowly.

His face bogusly serious, Steve nodded, brows knit.

"So, I guess that means you and I'll have to, I don't know, sample it at some point…?"

Steve grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that." He sat back, chuckling. It felt good to be able to joke around again.

Taking a deep breath, Steve looked happily at his partner and, as they stared at each other, Mike's smile was slowly replaced by a melancholic frown. He reached out and wrapped his free hand around the younger man's forearm. "I want to go home, Steve," he said with a quiet weariness.

Laying his hand over Mike's and squeezing, he whispered back, "So do I, Mike, so do I."