Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter! My husband and I had one last blast before his Christmas break ended. But now I'm home and back to my writing. I'll try to keep posting a chapter a week, but we're also writing a second novel and getting ready for a major move, so that might slow me down. Thank you for all the kind reviews!

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June 20, 1977

Johnny felt a lot better when he woke up. His throat was no longer raw, and he actually had some energy. What's more, he was really hungry. When his breakfast arrived, he ate the whole tray, rubbery scrambled eggs included (he washed those down with a serving of raspberry sherbet). "Don't know why they spell it SHERBET," he grumbled, "and don't say it that way. Oughtta be spelled SHERBERT."

He sighed as he sat up. Hopefully Brackett would discharge him soon. Johnny had rounds to make. Now that he was on the mend, he planned to visit Chet, Mama Lopez, and Roy, in that order. In fact, he intended to spend most of the day with Roy if no one tried to stop him.

Shortly before lunchtime, Dr. Early finally poked his head in the door. "Hey, Johnny. We've been swamped in the ER. Kel asked me to come take a look at you."

"No problem, Doc, as long as you're ready to spring me."

Early pulled out his penlight and a tongue depressor. "We'll see about that. Now, say 'Ahhh,' and let me get a good look."

"Ahhhhhhh." Johnny opened his mouth wide for the doc to peer inside.

"Excellent," Early said finally. "You're looking pretty good today, John."

"Feeling pretty good, Doc. Can I get outta here finally?" Johnny wasn't sure yet where he would go, but even a hotel room was better than a hospital bed.

"Yes. Captain Stanley has offered to let you stay at his house until you've got a new place. He'll be here this afternoon — I figure you can occupy yourself visiting Roy till then."

"Yep. And Chet, Mike, and Mama Lopez."

Early chuckled. "I expected no less. Go on, Johnny. Get dressed and go make those rounds. A bit of walking will do you good. Dixie will find you later with your discharge paperwork." His eyes got serious. "Um, I'd rather you hold off on visiting Mike till after his next session with Dr. Deutschmann this afternoon, though."

"OK, Doc. I can wait." Johnny sighed happily. "I'm just glad to be gettin' out of here."

Once he was up, he found his uniform in the closet, cleaned and pressed. Dixie must have sent it to the laundry. With the station and his apartment building both destroyed, this was all he had for clothing. Wonder what happened to my Range Rover. He'd last parked it in the station lot. He hoped it had survived.

Before getting dressed, he washed up, then shaved. Later today, Dixie would make him leave in a wheelchair. Until then, like the Doc said, a bit of walking would do him good. Chet first, then Mama Lopez. Then Roy.

He checked at the nurse's station for Chet's room number, then headed for the elevator. Just outside the door, he heard a soft giggle coming from the room. He peeked in, then pulled back before anyone could see him. A nurse was with Chet, and she had just kissed him on the cheek! Physically, Chet didn't look that great, but it looked like he was grinning behind his oxygen mask. Johnny chuckled. Who wouldn't be, with attention like that? He wouldn't mind getting some of that treatment for himself. Nancy Hawkins had been reassigned and hadn't even bothered to visit him, and the two other nurses who had attended him were both significantly older and married.

Johnny peeked into Chet's room again. The nurse wasn't dazzlingly beautiful. She's not a dog, though. Johnny sighed. He could hear his Aunt Taloa's voice in the back of his mind, scolding him for thinking that way. Women aren't animals, John Gage. Treat them with dignity and respect or you'll never find one willing to marry you! He rolled his eyes but amended his judgment. Chet's nurse wasn't that bad looking. So why was she interested in him? He pulled back into the hallway and tried to decide whether he should interrupt.

"Excuse me, are you Johnny Gage?" The voice suddenly at his side was quiet but firm, no-nonsense.

Johnny turned to see Chet's nurse. Nurse McIntire, according to her name tag. "Uh… yeah."

"Well then." Her eyes sparkled. "Chet says get in here and stop hanging at the door."

"Um… sure." Johnny just stared at her for a moment. He'd thought she was plain at first. Now that he'd seen her up close, he decided intriguing was a better description. He followed her into the room. "Hey, Chet. How ya feelin'?"

"Hey, Johnny. I feel like crap. How 'bout you?"

Johnny shrugged. "On the mend." He looked at the nurse, letting his gaze linger.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Kitty McIntire." When Johnny kept staring, she cleared her throat and, right in front of him, lifted Chet's oxygen mask and brushed her lips against his. Then she put the mask back in place.

For a second, Chet's heart monitor went wild. He didn't seem to be in any distress, though. In fact, Johnny would swear he was smirking.

For a long moment, Johnny couldn't figure out how to put words together. Finally, he just said, "Um… nice to meet you, Kitty. Chet, uh… looks like you're in good hands. I gotta go check on Mama Lopez and Roy. I'll… uh… see ya later."

With that, Johnny turned tail and skedaddled, as his uncle would have said.

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Johnny's next stop was Mama Lopez' room. When he arrived, she was working with her physical therapist. He didn't like seeing Mama stuck in bed. She was usually so full of life and energy.

"Hi, Mama." After the therapist nodded him into the room, Johnny slid into a chair at her bedside. All the 51's A-Shift guys called her Mama. She didn't let them say "Mrs. Lopez." And she felt like a mother to all of them, especially to Johnny who had lost his mother young. Johnny rested a hand on her arm. Her eyes met his, but she didn't respond.

"Mrs. Lopez hasn't felt like talking today," the therapist explained. "Hopefully she'll change her mind when her speech therapist gets here."

Mama's face sagged and her muscles were flaccid, but her dark eyes glinted like steel.

"Mama, are you being stubborn?" Johnny echoed a question she'd asked him after he'd had surgery for a broken leg and had resisted doing his therapy exercises.

Mama's left shoulder went up in a light shrug. She held up her right hand and very slowly managed to curl it into a loose fist.

The therapist beamed. "You're making progress, Mrs. Lopez!"

Johnny grinned. "Atta girl, Mama!" He eyed her carefully, trying to decide whether he should push her to speak or fill the silence himself. He was good at filling silences. Roy had scolded him plenty of times for being over-talkative.

"Ya know, Mama," he said, leaning back and stifling a yawn. He still needed to get his strength back, but at least he was headed in the right direction. "I'm sure glad I'm gettin' discharged today. I think I'll head over to In 'n' Out and get me a nice juicy burger." He watched Mama's eyes smolder. "Maybe some french fries, too."

"Nnnnnnoooo!" Mama said. She scowled and shook her left pointer finger at him. "Eeee guuh foo."

Johnny grinned. "You win, Mama. You keep talking and I'll eat healthy. OK?"

The therapist smiled. "Think you could convince her to put on some sweatpants?"

Johnny shook his head. He wasn't a miracle worker, after all. "Not Mama." He thought for a moment, then tilted his head. "But what about culottes? They'd be comfortable, and they're kind of like a skirt."

"What about that, Mrs. Lopez?" the therapist asked. "Would you wear culottes?"

Johnny looked the young woman over. She was pretty, and she wasn't wearing a ring. But he was still feeling the sting of Kitty McIntire's rejection. He wasn't ready to set himself up for more disappointment.

Mama patted her chest. "Caaa mmmamma," she insisted. Then she nodded. "Ottes… gooo."

Johnny offered a lopsided grin. "I guess you've been adopted too."

The therapist chuckled. "It's an honor. Thank you, Mama." She started packing up her things and getting ready to go. "By the way," she said to Johnny. "I'm Sasha. How would you like to go to dinner?"

Johnny was speechless at first, almost as flustered as he'd been when Kitty kissed Chet right in front of him. He was pleased that Sasha was interested but couldn't believe she'd asked him out. He'd never been asked out by a woman. He was supposed to make the first move! "Y… you're asking me?" he spluttered.

Sasha shrugged. "Why not?"

Johnny's eyes went wide. "Well… that's… not how it's done!"

Mama snorted her disdain. She rapped Johnny's arm with her good hand and glared at him.

"Then again," he said with a shrug, "I guess you're right. Why not? Uh… sure, I'd love to have dinner with you."

They worked out the details of a dinner date the following night, and then Sasha said her goodbyes. "My next patient is waiting. I'll see you tomorrow, Mama. You too, Johnny."

Mama settled back against her pillows, the left side of her mouth twitching up into half a satisfied smile. Johnny got the idea that she had orchestrated the whole thing.

After Marco returned a few minutes later, Johnny kissed Mama on the cheek and said goodbye, too. It was time to go see Roy.

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Up in the ICU, Johnny found out that Roy had been moved to the orthopedic ward. The head ICU nurse gave him the room number and he headed back to the elevator. He approached Roy's door and heard a familiar voice inside. Well, sort of familiar. Today was the first time he'd heard it. He looked in and saw Sasha exercising Roy's good leg.

"Well, well, well! Fancy meeting you here!" he said as he stepped into the room.

Sasha looked up. Her smile brightened her hazel eyes. "Johnny! What are you doing here?"

"Roy's my best friend. Practically my brother. We're paramedic partners out of Station 51." He sat down. Roy winced suddenly and closed his eyes for a long moment. "Man, pally, I hate that you're in pain, but I'm also thrilled."

"Yeah," Roy said, opening his eyes. "Same here, Junior. So, how do you know my therapist?"

"We met downstairs where she was working with Mama Lopez." Johnny quirked up the corner of his mouth into a smile. "And we're going out for dinner tomorrow night. I'm getting sprung sometime this afternoon — Dixie will bring my discharge papers here."

Roy nodded. "Bet you'll be glad to get home, sleep in your own bed again."

"Wish I could." Johnny shrugged. "My apartment was destroyed in the quake. I'll be staying with…" His voice trailed off. If he didn't say he was staying at the DeSoto house, Roy would realize that there was a problem. That was information Johnny wasn't supposed to mention.

Roy's steady gaze met his. "I know my house is gone, Johnny. One of the nurses accidentally let it slip. Jo doesn't know I know, though. I don't want to make things more stressful for her, so don't let on, got it?"

Less stress for them, more stress for me. Johnny sighed. He hated secrets. "Yeah, fine. I'll be staying with Cap. He's pickin' me up here. So, what's the prognosis?"

Roy grinned. "Dr. Brackett says I have a good chance of a complete recovery, but it'll take time and work."

"That's where I come in," Sasha commented. "I intend to work you hard, Mr. DeSoto."

Roy chuckled. "Better call me Roy if you're gonna date my partner."

"A'right, that's good to hear, pally." Johnny's smile stretched from ear to ear. "We'll be back to work before you know it."

"All right then, Roy." Sasha packed up her gear. "I'll be back later today for another session. Our options are limited while you're still in traction, but I've got some tricks up my sleeve." She brushed against Johnny on the way to the door. "See you tomorrow, John."

Johnny watched her out the door. He could feel Roy's eyes on him but decided not to satisfy his friend's curiosity. Once Sasha was out of sight, Johnny leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Ya know, Roy, I was thinkin', maybe it's time we took the Captain's exam."

"Captain's exam, huh?" Cap strode into the room. The cast on his broken wrist was covered in signatures. "Not sure you twits are ready for the Captain's hat." He laughed. "Just kidding, guys. I think you'd both do credit to the Department. I'm thinking of goin' for Chief, myself. McConnikee's retiring so I won't have to worry about him throwing a wrench in the works. Word is, Station 51 is done for. The department will rebuild, but it's gonna be Station 127 now and it won't have paramedics anymore. They're talking about bringing in a whole new crew. Chet won't be coming back, Marco's requesting a leave of absence and he told me if it's denied, he's going to quit. He wants to be available to help Mama recover. And we don't know yet whether Mike'll be able to come back. Just seems like a good time to move up."

"What's up with Mike, Cap?" Roy asked. "I heard he had amnesia."

Cap nodded solemnly. "Dr. Early says some of his memories have come back but not many." He shook his head and sighed. "I'm telling you, it was like a punch in the gut going to visit him and he didn't recognize me. Now Dr. Early has asked me to sit in on his next session with the hypnotherapist, since his dad is sick with the flu." He flashed a grin at Roy. "I hear you're on the mend, though, pal. That's good news."

"It sure is, Cap." Roy yawned. "I'm wiped out, though."

Cap turned his attention to Johnny. "You been sprung yet?"

"Not yet, Cap. Still waiting for Dixie to bring the discharge paperwork." He yawned too and shifted in his chair. "I'm with Roy, ready for a nap. I was gonna visit Mike, but Dr. Early asked me to wait." He eyed the unused cot in the room. "Think I'll lie down and get some shuteye."

"All right. Well, I'm here. Em will be back to get us around four." Cap said. "I'm gonna visit Mike and Chet. Get some rest."

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Mike, meanwhile, had been watching his doorway nervously. Dr. D was coming again today. Mike wasn't sure when. The idea of another session made his hands tremble. He wasn't so sure he wanted to remember anything more. Part of him did. After all, there had to be good memories too. The problem was, you couldn't get the good memories back without the hard ones, and the hard ones hurt. His heart ached with the knowledge that Mom was gone, and she wasn't ever coming back.

He fingered the toy fire engine Cap had given him, murmuring the names of the different pumps and levers and their purposes. That was stuff Uncle Dom had taught him, wasn't it? Or did he have some closer relationship with fire trucks than the uncle he'd idolized when he was a kid? He blinked back tears. Something told him that there were difficult memories about Uncle Dom hiding in the shadows of his mind, too.

"I don't want any of it," he grumbled. Especially now. Now they said Pops was sick with the flu and couldn't be with him for the next session with Dr. D. That was it — he was getting out of here before they could make his life even more miserable.

Very carefully, he tugged the IV needle out of his arm. He pressed a piece of gauze over the wound the needle left behind. Once he was disconnected from the machines, he slipped out of bed. In the closet, he found some clothes — a freshly washed and pressed Los Angeles County Fire Department uniform. The name tag on the shirt even had his name on it, and it said he was an engineer. So, he wasn't just remembering what Uncle Dom taught him! He really did know those engines! His injured shoulder made getting dressed difficult, but he managed it.

He glanced through the pictures he'd drawn for Dr. Early and selected the one of the fire station. He would take it with him. Maybe someone would help him find it.

Peeking out of his room, he saw that the hallway was clear. Nurse Novak and Nurse Miller were probably checking on patients. No doctors were in sight, either. Mike trotted out the door and down the hall toward the elevators. He stared at the elevator door for a few seconds, then decided to take the stairs instead.

He had to hurry. As soon as they realized he was gone, they'd start looking for him. He wanted to be well out of Rampart and on his way before anyone could stop him. Somehow, he made it. Probably no one thought twice about seeing a fireman in uniform walking through a hospital.

Outside, he wasn't sure at first what to do. He almost climbed into a fire engine parked near the emergency entrance, but a voice in his head told him that was a bad idea. Besides, none of them were his engine, the one he knew better than he knew himself — that wasn't saying much lately, was it? So, he just started walking, hopeful that his feet would remember what his brain didn't and carry him where he needed to go.

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"What do you mean, he's not in his room?" Nurse Clara Novak's stomach turned a flip. She frowned at Captain Stanley, who was pacing the floor and muttering under his breath. "Cindy just took him his lunch. She would have told me if he was gone!" Or maybe she would have assumed he was in the restroom.

"Well ma'am," the fire captain said drily, "he must have left after she came, then. His lunch is sitting there untouched."

"Didi, do you know where Mike Stoker is?"

Nurse Didi Miller was sitting at the desk, poring over paperwork. She'd been at it for over an hour, leaving Clara in charge of patients. She looked up and shook her head. "I thought he was still in his room. Did he have another CT scan scheduled?"

Clara checked the board. "No. He should be in his room." Her forehead wrinkled up with frustration. "I have a feeling John Gage came to see him. You know what an escape artist he is!"

Captain Stanley shook his head. "No. I just saw John. He hasn't been here yet." He sighed. "Listen, I'm gonna go look for Mike. You'd better let Dr. Early know and Security know."

"Yes, of course." Clara bit her lip as she reached for the phone. Nurse McCall was going to have her head over this.

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After half an hour of searching, it was determined that Mike had left the hospital. A security guard had seen a man fitting his description going out a side entrance. "He was in uniform. I didn't think anything of it."

"That twit is going to be on latrine duty for months," Cap grumbled before remembering what he'd told Roy and Johnny — he was no longer the captain of Station 51's A-Shift because Station 51 was no more.

Hank spotted Vince Howard standing near the Emergency Room doors and strode across the room to talk with him. "Vince, we need your help." He explained the situation. "We've gotta find him."

"Sure." Vince nodded toward the door. "Come with me, Cap. We'll find him." His eyes went to Hank's casted right arm. "I've got a squad car today, and you don't need to be driving."

Emily had said the same thing when Hank was ready to go to Rampart, adding "How do you expect you'll operate the gear shift?" when he'd tried to wave her concern away. At that, he'd conceded. She dropped him off before going to do some shopping. She wanted to make things nice for their company. Besides Johnny, Jo and her father and the kids would be staying with them for a time, saving them the cost of a long-term hotel stay.

"Thanks, Vince." Hank followed the officer out to the parking lot. Vince opened the passenger side door so he could slip in.

"Mike's probably not sure where he is, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's headed to Station 51," Hank said as Vince slid in behind the wheel and started the car. "I think we should go that way first."

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Chet sighed as Dixie replaced his oxygen mask. It was good to get a short break from the thing so he could eat his meals. He was bored. Bored of the sterile white walls. Bored of hospital smells. Bored of hospital food. He'd been telling Kitty all about it earlier today. Kitty was the one bright spot in all this mess. Ever since the debacle with Cynthia Liscombe, Chet had been sour on the idea of marriage. Kitty had him rethinking that. He wished she were with him now, but she had gotten off work early so she could go to the DMV to register her car and get her California driver's license. And when she was at Rampart, well, Chet wasn't her only patient. She had limited time to spend with him. Still, somehow she kept finding her way to his room whenever she was off shift or on breaks. The way Chet saw it now, if he ended up together with Kitty McIntire, then getting hurt was totally worth it.

He wished Johnny hadn't run off earlier. He wanted to hear about how everyone was doing. Marco was busy with his mom and hadn't visited for days. Roy couldn't visit. Cap had come by a few times, but he'd been pretty quiet. Chet understood — he recognized the signs of anxiety in his Captain. Mostly, he was worried about Mike. The pair had been best friends since long before 51's A-Shift crew came together. Mike losing his memory had really rattled Cap.

And now, according to Dixie, Mike was missing. Cap had been going to visit Chet, but instead he was out looking for his errant best friend. The thought flashed through Chet's mind that he should pray about it. He dismissed it at first. Prayer was for guys like Marco. God liked Marco, listened to him. He wouldn't want to hear from Chet. "Even so, God," Chet murmured as he crossed himself. "Maybe ya could help Mike out. Let Cap find him and let him get better. The Stokers have had way too much to deal w — " A knock at the door interrupted him. He looked up, hoping Kitty was back earlier than expected. When she poked her head into his room, he grinned really big. Maybe God liked him a little bit after all.

"Hi, Chet!" She stepped in, her hands hidden behind her back, and looked at him with a rueful twist to her lips. "I have a confession to make. The line was way too long at the DMV and I didn't stay. I'll be dealing with that next week. Instead, I went shopping for you."

Chet's eyes widened. "For me? You didn't hafta get me anything, Kitty!"

"I think you'll like this." She brought a package from behind her back, wrapped in the funny papers, and handed it to him. "You can use it to brighten up your room."

Chet was careful not to tear the paper, instead peeling up the tape and preserving Beetle Bailey and Wizard of Id and Hagar the Horrible. Some of Garfield and Blondie ended up stuck to the tape, but for the most part he would be able to enjoy reading the comics later. Inside the package he found a pad of sketch paper and an art set for beginners with instructions and everything. There were colored pencils and paints and brushes and oil pastels and charcoal sticks. Chet felt a lump in his throat. He swallowed hard because he needed to say thank you, but he couldn't get any words out. His vision blurred briefly. Damn — were those tears in his eyes? Kitty was waiting. She wanted him to say he loved it.

But a voice kept running through his mind, taunting him. Howie Larson, the sixth-grade bully. Art is for sissies, Chet! Painting is for girls!

He tried smiling at Kitty. "Thanks," he said. She'd been so kind getting him this gift, and he loved her for it. Loved her? Was he really thinking along those lines?

She must have known it was a forced smile. Her own smile drooped and the sparkle in her eyes dulled. "You said you didn't like the bare white walls. I thought you could paint some pictures and we would hang them up. But… if you'd rather not…" She reached for the art kit.

Chet grabbed her hands. "I'm sorry, Kitty. I'm just real tired. It's a great gift. Thank you." He hoped he sounded more convincing. It was a great gift, if only he could get Howie's voice out of his mind.

This time she forced a smile. "OK," she said softly. "I should let you get some rest, then. I promised my roommate we could go out for lunch this afternoon, anyway." She brushed her lips across his forehead and then tiptoed out of the room.

Crestfallen, Chet watched her go. Call her back, his brain insisted. But he didn't. Instead, he pulled the art kit close and looked it over. It must've cost Kitty a bundle. Now she would probably decide to get to know Johnny instead. He had the Gage charm after all. Chet only had the Kelly charm, which wasn't nearly as effective. That was one reason the Phantom chose Johnny to be his pigeon. Chet snorted. Maybe he and Howie Larson had something in common after all. Howie didn't have an artistic bone in his body. Mrs. Crandall insisted he bullied Chet because he was jealous. "His drawings weren't good enough for the contest," she'd explained. "He's mad that yours was."

Chet slit the plastic wrap on the art kit and then pulled away the packaging to find a beautiful cherry-wood box with a latch on the front. He pulled open the latch and lifted the lid. He would start with the colored pencils. He carefully selected the colors he needed, then opened the sketchpad and began to draw.

As he worked, the good memories of his art class started coming back to him, memories he'd forced himself to let go a long time ago. Creating something beautiful relaxed him. It allowed him to express what he was feeling.

Half an hour later, he put the pencils away and stared at the image he'd drawn on the paper. Kitty McIntire smiled up at him from the page. He'd captured the sparkle in her bright green eyes and her slightly crooked front teeth and the freckles scattered liberally across her cheeks. It was an excellent likeness, almost as if he'd drawn it from a photograph. But it showed more than what she looked like. Kitty's heart was there, her kindness, her spirit, her sense of fun. The way she made Chet want to be a better man because he knew he didn't deserve her. He stroked the drawing. "I'm gonna marry Kitty McIntire," he murmured. "One of these days, if she'll only have me."

He set the finished drawing down on his table, already planning to turn it into a painting. Then he leaned back against his pillows, one hand resting on Kitty's hair. Gradually, his eyes drifted shut and he fell asleep.

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By the time Mike noticed the police car tailing him, he was starting to get tired. His head was pounding, and his shoulder was hurting bad. Still, he walked faster, determined to get away from his pursuer.

"Hey, Mike! Hang on a minute!" The voice was friendly. A voice he recognized. Mike turned instinctively toward it. Cap leaned out the window and looked him over with warm eyes full of concern. "Mike, they're worried about you back at Rampart. Why don't you let us take you back there?"

Mike stared at the officer for a moment. Then he shook his head. "Please don't make me go back, Cap. Not yet."

Cap frowned. He opened the door, got out, and came over to Mike. "Listen, pal, you don't look so good. I'm your captain. We're best friends. Can you trust me?"

Can you trust me? Dr. Early had asked him the same thing. Mike hung his head. Hot tears flooded his eyes. "I… I don't know. I'm real confused." He held up the picture. "I gotta go there. Please. You can take me back to Rampart after, but I gotta see it first."

Cap's eyes narrowed. "Station 51? It doesn't look like that anymore, Mike. You can't even go inside."

"Please." Mike wished he could remember something more about Cap, something that would help him convince the man to do what he was asking. He decided just to go with the truth. "I understand I can't go in. But somehow, I… I know I'll find the answers I need there." He was prepared to bolt if Cap said no.

Cap wrinkled his forehead. He grasped Mike's arm as he turned to talk to the cop driving the patrol car. "Hey, Vince. Can you take us by Station 51 before we go back to Rampart?"

The officer nodded. "Sure, I'll do that for you."

Cap gestured toward the patrol car. "Hop in," he said. "We'll go to Station 51 and then back to Rampart. Nurse McCall is fit to be tied, and your floor nurses may just get fired over your little stunt."

Guilt slammed into Mike. He hadn't thought about that. Nurse Novak and Nurse Miller had been real good to him, not like that nasty Nurse Chamber Pot. He hadn't meant to cause them trouble. Meekly, he got into the back seat of the car and fastened his seat belt.

Vince slipped back in behind the wheel and picked up the radio speaker. "Dispatch, we've located our fugitive fireman. Mike Stoker is safe with us. Please let Rampart know. We'll be heading back soon — we have one quick stop to make first."

"Thank you." Mike leaned his head back and closed his eyes while the officer drove.

The officer chuckled. "Good thing you asked me to come along. That block is closed off, but I can go down it. When we get there, stay near the car, got it?"

Mike nodded but didn't respond otherwise. He just sat clutching his drawing, eyes squeezed shut.

"He gets it," Hank offered on Mike's behalf.

Soon the car pulled over and stopped. "Here we are," the officer said.

Mike opened his eyes and got out of the squad car. It took a moment for his brain to interpret what he was seeing. Vince was right — the station didn't look anything like his drawing now. It was a pile of rubble. The only thing still standing was the flagpole. And no one had taken down the flag. How many days had it been since the earthquake?

"Why the hell is that still flying?" he muttered as he stomped toward the pole to lower the flag. It only gradually dawned on him that his memories had come back, fully intact. He folded the flag carefully, respectfully, then turned on his heel and trotted back to the squad car. "Cap, Vince! I gotta get back to Rampart now. I gotta see Beth and the boys!"

"I gotta feeling you'll have another meeting first," Cap muttered. "Like I told you, Nurse McCall is fit to be tied."

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When Kitty got home, she found her roommate Marie asleep on the sofa. Her face was flushed. She roused briefly when Kitty closed the apartment door, just long enough to rasp out, "Don't come close — I don't want to share my germs."

"Hey, I get exposed to everything, and I never get sick." Kitty checked Marie's temperature. She got her a glass of water and some aspirin, then helped her to her bed. "Don't worry about lunch. We'll go when you're better." Once Marie was tucked in, Kitty washed her hands.

She went to her room and pulled a book off the shelf, then settled into her recliner and opened the cover. She loved The Lord of the Rings, but today she just couldn't focus on it. She was too upset. Chet hated the gift she'd bought him. They'd talked so much, and she'd gotten the idea that for all his mischief and silliness, Chet Kelly had an artistic soul. Had she read him wrong? Finally, she put her book away. She would go back to the hospital. If she wanted things to work out with Chet, she needed to talk this out with him.

When she got to Rampart, she hurried to Chet's room. He was sound asleep. Kitty sighed. They would have to talk it out later. As she turned to leave, out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of something under Chet's hand. The sketchpad was open to the first page. Several colored pencils lay scattered on his table. She moved closer, gasping slightly when she saw that his first piece of artwork was a picture of her. A beautiful picture. Her brothers would have teased that it couldn't be their Plain Jane looking up out of that drawing. But this picture showed how Chet saw her. The love he put into the drawing was evident in every pencil stroke. Kitty closed her eyes. She didn't deserve to be loved like that.

She sank into the chair. Chet blinked open his eyes and looked at her.

"Sorry," he mumbled under his oxygen mask. "The art set is a wonderful gift. It just… at first it reminded me of Howie Larson, a kid who bullied me at school. He told me art was for sissies. Tore up the certificate I won for a drawing I'd done of a cabin in the woods. Made my life miserable till I gave it up."

Kitty picked up his drawing. "You're really good, Chet. Howie Larson was an idiot."

"Yeah, I know. Phantom got 'im back, though." He chuckled. "Water balloon filled with honey in his backpack. Ruined his essay on George Washington." He chuckled. "Nobody knew it was me who did it." He grabbed her hand. "Don't go out with Johnny. Please."

She wrapped her fingers around his. "I won't, Chet. I think you and I might have something good here."

"Me too."

Kitty lifted his oxygen mask and brushed her lips against his. "Get some rest. I'm going to grab something for lunch from the cafeteria and bring it up here."

"OK."

She felt Chet's eyes watching her as she left the room, but when she turned around for another glance at him before she walked down the corridor, he was asleep.

◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊

Mike ducked his head. Dixie McCall was furious, no mistake. She stood glaring at him, arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face. Her eyes were like sharp daggers threatening to skewer him. "Michael Stoker, what were you thinking?"

He shrugged. "I'm sorry, Dixie. I had to get outta here. And now I gotta see Beth and the boys. Please, can we talk later?"

Her eyes widened and they lost some of their sharpness. "You remember?"

"Everything. Is Beth still in room 237?"

She nodded. "Yes. And you can go see her as soon as you get that arm in this sling." She handed him a sling as she spoke, then helped him put it on. "All right, go see that wife of yours. She's worried about you."

He moved to go around her, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "I'm glad you're back, Mike."

He chuckled. "Thanks, Nurse Needles. You're the best." Her face turned red and she spluttered. Mike hurried past her to the stairs. He wasn't about to step foot in another elevator.