Johnny examined himself in the mirror over the sink in the dorm. The bruising seemed painfully obvious to him, and his throat was still sore. He had no idea how he was going to explain it away.

Sam had stayed with him for the remainder of the day and that night at his own insistence and had voiced the opinion that Johnny should stay home for another day and rest. It was only one shift, after all.

He found Sam's concern oddly touching, and it was comforting to have him there. They'd rarely spent time together outside the bar and their respective bedrooms, and Johnny found he actually enjoyed Sam's company. Sam had been so kind, so gentle with him that Johnny didn't quite know how to take it.

"Johnny." Roy's voice behind him nearly made him jump out of his skin. "It's almost roll call."

"Yeah, be right there." Johnny gripped the edge of the sink, collecting himself.

Roy frowned but didn't say anything further, leaving the dorm. Johnny took a deep breath and exhaled, following not far behind and joining the rest of the crew in the day room.

Cap seemed to do a double take upon spotting Johnny, or maybe Johnny was just imagining it. Yeah, that was it, Johnny was just being paranoid. If it came down to it, Johnny would make up some outrageous story to explain away the marks.

The tones went off immediately after roll call, and Johnny joined Roy in the squad for their first call of the day. Johnny couldn't help but be relieved. The call was a welcome distraction from his own problems.

Roy pulled up to the scene, and both men hopped out to gather their equipment. A small crowd was already gathered around a tree, talking among themselves as Roy and Johnny made their way over.

"Fire department!" Roy called out. "Step aside, please."

The crowd parted, revealing a young girl curled up on the ground and holding her arm, while a woman was kneeled down next to her. Johnny cleared his throat before speaking. "Can you tell us what happened?"

The woman sighed in exasperation. "She's my daughter. She's always trying to do what her big brothers do. Well, they told her she couldn't climb a tree like they could, so of course, she had to prove them wrong."

"I see." Johnny kneeled down next to the girl. "Hi. What's your name?"

"Lilly." The girl answered, clearly in pain.

"Well, Lilly, I'm gonna need to take a look at that arm, okay?" Johnny told her in what he hoped was a soothing tone. "Took quite a tumble, huh?"

Lilly nodded, slowly sitting up as Johnny gently guided her upright. "I slipped when I was climbing and fell right here." She still held her upper arm.

Johnny gently probed Lilly's arm and shoulder before calling out to Roy. "Roy, looks like a broken left clavicle here. I'll get her vitals."

"Got it." Roy answered, setting up the biophone and calling into Rampart.

Johnny took Lilly's blood pressure and pulse, calling out the numbers to Roy while he relayed them to Rampart. "Ten-four, Rampart. Ambulance is coming now, ETA twelve minutes."

Johnny was already in the process of immobilizing Lilly's arm when the ambulance showed up. "Hey, Lilly, you ever ride in an ambulance before?"

"No." Lilly shook her head.

"Is that necessary?" The woman asked.

"Ma'am, that collarbone's broken." Johnny told her firmly. "The sooner we get her to Rampart for treatment, the better off she'll be. And the sooner she'll be able to get back to following her brothers around."

The woman huffed. "That's the last thing she needs to do."

Johnny chose to ignore that. "You can follow us to Rampart. Should be a short drive. Roy, I'll ride in with her."

"Got it, Johnny." Roy answered.

The ambulance soon showed up, and it wasn't long before she was loaded in, Johnny climbing in behind her for the ride. "Your mom's pretty worried about you." Johnny told Lilly.

Lilly rolled her eyes. "It's dumb. I can do anything my brothers can do."

"I believe you." Johnny answered with a short laugh. "Just be a little more careful next time, okay?"

Lilly nodded, and it was a quiet ride to Rampart. They unloaded at the entrance and Dixie directed them to a treatment room. Johnny helped the ambulance attendants move her from the gurney to the bed and gave Early a quick update before joining Roy just outside the room.

Roy had that same frown that he had when he had come up behind Johnny in the dorm, but Johnny tried to ignore it. He was fine, just fine, he wanted to assure Roy, even though he wasn't entirely sure he was. The whole incident still had Johnny on edge, especially now that more bits and pieces were starting to come back to him.

It was something of a miracle he had survived, really. Johnny still wasn't entirely sure how he had managed to fight the guy off.

Roy grabbed Johnny's arm before they got too far down the hallway, speaking to him in a low tone. "Whatever the hell happened to you, you need to get it checked out."

Johnny pulled away. "I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

Roy's expression never changed. "I'm not making us available until someone checks you over."

Johnny realized that he wasn't going to win this battle. He knew Roy was right, though he was loathe to admit it. He let out a short huff. "Fine, fine, I'll get it looked at. But I'm telling you, it's nothing."

Roy eyed Johnny skeptically before flagging down Morton. "Morton, Johnny's got, well, some kind of injury. Can you look him over?"

Morton looked a little taken aback, but after a quick glance at Johnny, he nodded firmly. "In here."

Roy started to follow, but Johnny all but shoved him away before entering the treatment room and closing the door behind him. He hoisted himself up on the exam table while Morton started examining him. "Like I told Roy, it's nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing." Morton replied sharply. "What the hell happened to you?"

Johnny swallowed hard. "Rather not say."

Morton stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. "Look, I don't need to know all the details. But a few would be helpful."

Johnny debated internally for a moment. Explaining this to Morton might mean outing himself, and he couldn't afford to do that, not if he still wanted to keep his job.

Finally, he let out a long breath. "Okay, I'll tell you, but it's gotta stay between us, got it?"

Morton nodded soberly. "Whatever you tell me, I'll keep in strictest confidence."

"Okay." Johnny closed his eyes, more bits and pieces coming back to him. "Got to talking to some guy at the bar and…well, we came back to my place. We were messing around and…things got out of hand."

"I'd say so." Morton answered quietly. "Looks like whoever it was did some damage. You sound pretty rough. Any throat pain? Difficulty breathing?"

"Yeah, hurts to swallow, hurts to talk." Johnny responded with a nod. "Uh…don't know about the breathing difficulties. Woke up the morning after and I was having some trouble, but I don't know if that's because of, well, this, or something else."

Morton gently felt along the sides of Johnny's throat, and Johnny had a brief flash of memory, taking in a sharp breath and stiffening under Morton's hands, gripping Morton's wrists hard.

"Johnny, you're okay." Morton told him calmly. "I'm not going to hurt you. Need you to let go of me."

"Sorry." Johnny muttered, the heat rushing to his face as he immediately released Morton's wrists.

Morton continued his exam, peppering Johnny with questions until Johnny was ready to tell him off. Finally, Morton seemed to be satisfied, concluding with a firm nod. "Well, you got damn lucky, I'll tell you that. I don't think there's any permanent damage. But if any of your symptoms start getting worse, come back in here."

"Thanks, Morton." Johnny answered quietly, sliding down from the exam table and starting toward the door.

"Oh, and Johnny?" Morton's voice stopped him before he could leave. "You might want to think about reporting this to the police."

Johnny snorted derisively at that. "Right, Morton. See you around."

He left the exam room, and Roy pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning against. "Well, what's the verdict?"

"Just like I told you, I'm fine." Johnny answered with as much confidence as he could muster. "No permanent damage."

Roy looked baffled, and Johnny realized he'd said more than he'd intended. He quickly backtracked. "I mean, no damage. Nothing's wrong. Just a bit of a sore throat, that's all."

Roy clearly didn't believe him but didn't respond. He pushed the button on the handy-talkie. "County Fifty-One available."

They started back to the squad and climbed in for the drive back to the station. It was a mostly silent drive until Roy backed the squad into the bay and shut it off.

Johnny couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. Roy clearly wasn't going to accept whatever explanation Johnny gave him, but the thought of telling Roy the truth created an awful feeling in the pit of Johnny's stomach. If Roy knew the truth, it could change everything between them.

Roy sat for a long moment, his eyes downcast, that concerned expression never leaving his face. Finally, Roy seemed to take a deep breath and exhale before turning toward Johnny. "Listen, I'm not trying to get into your personal business. But something happened to you. And honestly, it's kinda hard not to think about that call we had a while back."

Johnny's stomach lurched, the memory of that call coming back to him. He stared out through the windshield for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I know."

He took a long moment to collect his thoughts before speaking again. "Okay, I'll tell you. Promise not to tell anyone else, got it?"

"Yeah, of course." Roy nodded in agreement, his voice still tinged with concern.

"Okay." Johnny replied, still gathering his thoughts. "There's this bar I hang out in sometimes. I met someone the other night, and we went back to my place. Things, well, kinda got out of hand."

Johnny hoped like hell Roy was smart enough to put things together without Johnny having to say much more. "This someone…" Roy ventured. "Either they were an exceptionally strong girl or…"

Johnny waited, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest. Was Roy going to put it all together? And if he did, then what?

"It wasn't a girl, was it?" Roy asked quietly.

Johnny shook his head, not daring to look over at Roy. He couldn't bear the weight of Roy's possible judgement, the thought that Roy wouldn't want him as a work partner, as a friend.

"Damn, Johnny." Roy finally spoke softly, but it sounded as if there was an edge of anger to it. What that meant, Johnny had no idea.

"Listen, Roy, this isn't how I wanted you to find out about me." Johnny started, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "Didn't want you to find out about me at all. Didn't want anyone to find out. If this gets out…it's over. It's all over—"

"Johnny." Roy's patient tone stopped Johnny in his tracks. "You mind letting me get a word in edgewise?"

Johnny took a deep breath and exhaled before nodding. "Sure, yeah."

"Okay." Roy paused for a moment himself before continuing. "Nothing's changed. You're still my friend, you're still my partner. And if you want me to keep it between us, I will."

All the tension seemed to leave Johnny at once, leaving him shaking uncontrollably. He blinked and swallowed hard before responding. "Thanks, Roy. Means a hell of a lot."

Roy merely nodded in response, his expression turning thoughtful. "Sure would like to get a hold of the guy that did this to you."

"Don't bother." Johnny huffed. "Just gotta be more careful who I take home with me, that's all."

Roy glanced at him before shaking his head. "If he did it to you, he'll do it to someone else. Hell, Johnny, you could've been killed."

He seemed to realize what he'd just said, almost doing a double take. "Johnny, you remember when the guy from the coroner's office came to talk to us? What was his name again?"

Johnny had to think hard about that for a moment before coming up with the name. "Doctor Quincy."

"Yeah, him." Roy nodded. "Johnny, you should tell him."

"No way." Johnny shook his head.

"Are you listening to me?" Roy's voice grew more insistent. "If you don't tell someone, this guy's gonna get someone else. Someone else that might not be able to fight him off."

"It's not gonna do any good." Johnny argued. "The cops don't give a damn."

"Make them give a damn." Roy argued back.

Johnny scoffed in response. "Yeah, like I have that kind of power. Forget it, Roy. Forget I said anything."

Another call came in before Roy could respond, and he started up the squad as Cap handed him the address slip before pulling out of the bay, the engine close behind. Just as well, Johnny figured. With any luck, Roy wouldn't bring up this conversation again, and Johnny would simply handle it in his own way.

How he was going to handle it, he had no idea.

# # #

"Morning, Sam." Quincy greeted the other man, who alternating between examining something under the microscope and making notes. "You're here early."

Sam looked up with a slightly amused expression. "I think you're just running late, Quince."

"Very funny." Quincy scoffed as he crossed over to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup. "If you need me, I'll be in my office."

Sam nodded, and Quincy left the lab and made his way to his office. The case files from all four strangulation cases were spread out on his desk, just as he'd left them the day before.

Four young men, all killed in eerily similar ways, all in or around areas that catered to homosexuals. Someone was targeting this area, God only knew why, and Quincy simply couldn't understand Monahan's indifference. How many more bodies were going to have to pile up before Monahan took it seriously?

He huffed in frustration and took a drink of his coffee. It wasn't long before there was a knock on his door. "Come in." Quincy called out.

The door swung open, revealing Sam. "Have those reports ready for you. Where do you want them?"

Quincy held out his hand, and Sam handed them off to him. It took a moment to realized that Sam was still standing there. "Something you need, Sam?"

Sam glanced around, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "Okay if I close the door?"

"Sure, sure." Quincy waved a hand around.

Sam did so, crossing back to take a seat in front of Quincy's desk. "I'm not sure if this is my place, but…I might have some information related to these strangulation cases."

That got Quincy's attention. "Go on."

Sam fell silent for a moment, glancing away before his eyes settled back on Quincy. "A friend of mine called me early yesterday morning. Seems that one of his…encounters went badly."

"Is he okay?" Quincy asked.

"He was pretty shaken up." Sam replied quietly. "But whoever it was intended to kill him. I don't know how, but he managed to fight him off. I don't know if it's connected, but…similar manner of injury, similar markings…Quince, it fits right in with the other cases."

Quincy leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, studying Sam carefully. "Sam, you think this friend of yours would be willing to talk?"

"That's the thing, Quince." Sam answered in a slightly exasperated tone. "If anything about his…proclivities comes out, it could make things really difficult for him."

"Well hell, Sam, four men are dead." Quincy shot back with equal exasperation. "I'd say that's a hell of a lot tougher than whatever your friend'll have to deal with. Now listen, if he doesn't want to come here, we can go to him. I don't give a damn about his lifestyle, I just wanna stop this guy before he kills anyone else, got it?"

Sam looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. "I'll give him a call, see if he's willing. But Quince, don't go browbeating him. If he doesn't want to talk, you have to drop it."

"Fine, sure." Quincy agreed, even as his frustration grew. "But you'd think he'd wanna help catch this guy."

"That may be, Quince, but you know how people are about this." Sam pointed out. "It makes people uncomfortable, even hostile. I don't want to put him in a worse position than he already is."

Quincy had to admit that Sam had a point. "Okay, you get a hold of him, and if he's willing, we'll set up a time to talk to him."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "We?"

"Yeah, we." Quincy asserted. "Figure he might be more willing to talk if he has a friend there."

Sam shook his head, rising from his chair. "I'll try to convince him. No promises."

"Do your best, Sam." Quincy waved a hand in Sam's general direction as Sam closed the office door behind him.

He turned his attention back to the case files spread in front of him. God, he hoped Sam could convince his friend to talk. It might be just the thing to finally convince Monahan to open an investigation.

A short time later, there was a knock at the office door. Quincy looked up to see Sam once again in the doorway. "Well, any luck?"

"If we go now, we might be able to catch him before he gets sent out on a call." Sam told him.

Quincy drained what was left of his coffee and scrambled to his feet. "Well, what're we waiting for? Let's go."

Soon they were in the station wagon headed back to the same fire station Quincy had visited not so long ago. It dawned on him that he already knew who Sam's friend was. Now he was wondering how the hell he and Sam knew each other.

But that was a mystery for another time. Right now, he hoped Sam's friend would be able to give them enough information to take to Monahan.

Quincy pulled up to the station, and both he and Sam climbed out, heading to the entrance and stepping inside. Captain Stanley spotted them immediately, striding toward them. "Doctor Quincy, nice to see you again."

"Captain Stanley, good to see you, too." Quincy responded, grasping the other man's outstretched hand and shaking firmly. "This is one of my lab assistants, Sam Fujiyama. Sam, this is Captain Stanley."

"A pleasure, Captain." Sam nodded, shaking Captain Stanley's hand.

"Likewise, Sam." Captain Stanley acknowledged before turning his attention back to Quincy. "Here to bother my paramedics again?"

"Just the one." Quincy told him, glancing at Sam. "Looking for John Gage."

Captain Stanley's brows knitted together in concern before he nodded. "Follow me."

Quincy and Sam did so, and Captain Stanley stuck his head into the room where the rest of the crew was gathered. "John? You've got visitors."

John's eyes went wide as he rose from the chair. The man that was sitting next to him rose as well, Roy, if Quincy remembered right. John placed his hand on Roy's arm and shook his head, and Roy eased himself back into the chair with a sideways glance.

Captain Stanley led them to his office and ushered them inside. "Take all the time you need. Remember, you'll have to cut it short if we get a call."

Quincy nodded and waved a hand dismissively as Captain Stanley closed the office door. He then turned his attention to John, who was trying his best to appear casual, with his hands shoved in his pockets, but his expression was wary.

It was then that Quincy noticed the bruising around his throat, and he moved in to study him more carefully. "John, do you mind if I take a look at ya?"

John glanced at Sam, who nodded, and John took a seat in the desk chair. "Doctor at Rampart already checked me over. Said I didn't have any permanent damage."

Quincy noticed the gravelly note in John's voice that he couldn't recall being there previously. "Well, this isn't for diagnostic purposes, but for investigative purposes."

John seemed to acquiesce, sitting quietly while Quincy examined him more closely. Along with the deep bruising that had the clear imprint of someone's fingers, Quincy noticed the petechiae that dotted the whites of John's eyes and to a lesser extent, around his eyes. "You having difficulty swallowing or breathing?"

John nodded, managing to look everywhere but at either Quincy or Sam. "Hurts to talk, hurts to swallow."

"He was having some trouble breathing the other day." Sam spoke up, earning him a sharp glare from John.

"Is that true?" Quincy pressed John.

John shrugged at that. "Don't know if it was because of this or…well, I guess I was having some nightmares. Woke up and I couldn't breathe. I kinda panicked. That's when I called Sam."

"You didn't think to call the police or the fire department?" Quincy challenged him.

John huffed irritably, rising from the chair and pacing around the room with his hands once again in his pockets. "Wasn't exactly sure what had happened. There was a whole lot I didn't remember. What the hell was I supposed to tell them, exactly? That I picked up some guy, brought him home, and then…oh, hell, sorry, I don't remember? No one's gonna take that seriously."

"But you were injured." Quincy argued. "You should have gone to the hospital. And Sam, you should have taken him. You know better."

Sam merely shook his head when Quincy turned his ire on him. "Trying to talk Johnny into doing something he doesn't want to do is like talking to a brick wall."

"Oh, that's funny, Sam." John answered sharply. "Real funny."

Quincy recognized that he was losing control of the situation. "John, I've got a friend at the police department. Would you be willing to talk to him, tell him what you told us?"

John's eyes flicked from Quincy to Sam and back again. "Why bother? They don't give a damn about the rest of them. One more's not gonna make a lick of difference."

"Because you survived, John." Quincy all but shouted. "Because maybe you'd be able to identify whoever did this to you. Because maybe then the killing would stop. Don't you want that?!"

John seemed to recoil slightly, and Quincy quickly realized that the man was scared. "Just think about it, will ya?"

John merely shook his head. "Not sure I could identify the guy. There's a hell of a lot I don't remember."

"You're sure it was a guy?" Quincy pounced on the one piece of information John was able to share.

"Yeah, I'm sure it was a guy." John's mouth quirked into a slight smile. "I'm not much into chicks."

"Okay." That was a little more than Quincy felt he needed to know, but no matter. "You're sure you don't remember anything about him? Height, hair color, anything?"

John's expression turned more serious, and he frowned thoughtfully. "About my height, probably. Maybe a little taller? Heavier, stronger. Not sure I remember much else."

"That's okay." Quincy assured him. "It's something. Maybe you'll remember something else later on. If you do, give me a call. You still have my card?"

"Yeah." John pulled out his wallet and produced the business card. "Can't promise anything. Not exactly something I want to remember, you know?"

"No, can't imagine you do." Quincy agreed, extending a hand. "Appreciate your time, John. I'm gonna have a word with my friend at the police department."

John managed a rueful smile as he did the same. "Think that's what you said last time we talked."

Quincy had to admit the man had a point. "C'mon, Sam, we'd better get going."

"Be right there, Quince."

Sam moved toward John as Quincy opened the door. As Quincy glanced over his shoulder, he spotted the two men talking quietly, clasping each other's hands. He couldn't see Sam's face, but from John's expression, it seemed to Quincy that John was a hell of a lot more than Sam's friend.

Better to give them a moment alone, Quincy decided, closing the office door behind him and starting toward the exit. No sooner had he left the office than Roy came out of the day room to intercept him.

"Roy." Quincy nodded in greeting.

Roy's eyes flicked toward the office. "Johnny told me what happened. Everything okay in there?"

"Oh, yeah." Quincy answered. "Just trying to get some more information so that maybe the police'll investigate."

Roy frowned slightly, sticking his hands in his pants pockets. "You think they will? Johnny doesn't seem to think so."

"I sure as hell hope so." Quincy answered. "Got four dead men and one survivor who maybe remembers something. Think it's gonna be a hell of a struggle to get much more out of him."

"He's scared, Doctor Quincy." Roy told him quietly.

"I know he is, Roy." Quincy replied sharply. "I know he is, but he's the only one who can identify this guy, if only he could remember anything."

"Maybe it's just temporary." Roy offered. "You know, once he recovers some, maybe he'll start remembering more."

"Maybe." Quincy agreed.

Eventually, the office door opened, and both Sam and John emerged. John caught up with Roy, and the two of them returned to the day room while Quincy and Sam returned to the station wagon.

They climbed in and Quincy started it up, taking a quick glance over at Sam. He was tempted to ask Sam what he and John had talked about, but ultimately, he decided it was none of his business. If Sam chose to reveal that, Quincy would let him bend his ear.

"Really appreciate you coming with me, Sam." Quincy told him as they drove. "Don't know how much it helped, but I still appreciate it."

Sam nodded thoughtfully at that. "He's still pretty shaken up. Maybe he'll remember more later on, but I wouldn't count on him remembering much of anything right now."

"You're a good friend, Sam." Quincy replied. "It's good he has someone like you he can count on."

Sam smiled ever so slightly at that. "Well, I'm sure you noticed, but we're a bit more than just friends."

"Doesn't matter to me, Sam." Quincy asserted. "You do good work, and that's all I care about. What you do outside the lab is none of my business."

Sam acknowledged that with a nod. "Good to know. Thanks, Quince."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How'd you two meet?" Quincy asked. "Doesn't seem like you two would exactly cross paths."

Sam's smile grew a little at that. "At one of those bars that cater to a certain clientele. He sat down next to me at the bar and just started talking to me."

"And that was that, huh?"

"Well, not quite." Sam responded. "It's a little more complicated than that."

"Huh." Quincy was more confused than ever. "Well, whatever makes you happy, I guess."

They talked idly all the way back to the coroner's office, separating at the lab. Sam almost immediately put on his lab coat and resumed what he had been doing prior to their trip to the fire station.

Just another day at the office, really. The new knowledge of Sam's outside life really had no bearing on how he did his work. If anything, Quincy had a new respect for him. It couldn't be easy, being the way he was and not being able to tell people.

Maybe someday that would change. And what a welcome change that would be.