"Really appreciate you doing this, Chet," Johnny told him as he eased himself into the car.

"I told you, it's no problem," Chet assured him, "You still up for some breakfast? It's kinda late for that, but the offer still stands."

"Hey, anytime's a good time for breakfast," Johnny responded, "Especially after the way they worked me today."

"Still?"

"Still," Johnny nodded, "Mostly gait training and other stuff to keep things balanced."

"Sounds tough," Chet responded as he pulled out onto the road, "Anyone trying to keep you balanced has a hard job."

"Funny," Johnny scoffed.

"Sorry, just trying to lighten things up," Chet seemed regretful.

"Nah, it's okay, I get it," Johnny answered casually, "It's hard work. Didn't know what I expected."

Chet glanced at him as he pulled into the parking lot behind the diner and shut off the car. "Yeah, I guess you don't really know for sure until you experience it."

They both climbed out and started toward the door. Johnny had recently switched over to a cane and was still learning how to manage it, so he was moving a little more slowly than usual. Chet fell into step beside him, moving ahead slightly to grab the door to let him through. The young woman at the cash register smiled brightly. "Hi. Booth or table?"

Chet looked at Johnny, and Johnny spoke up. "Booth's fine."

"Right this way."

They followed her to a booth, and they both slid in, Johnny positioning himself so that his right leg stuck out slightly. The young woman handed them each a menu. "Your waitress will be along shortly."

"Thanks," Chet flashed her a smile, watching as she left, "Man, she's cute."

Johnny laughed quietly as he looked over the menu. "Is that why you wanted to come here?"

"No," Chet huffed, his face turning red.

"Liar," Johnny shot back, looking over his shoulder, "You should ask for her number on our way out."

"I'm not interested in her," Chet replied emphatically, a little too emphatically, Johnny thought.

"Okay," Johnny shrugged, "Then forget it."

"I will," Chet answered sharply before looking at his own menu, "What're you getting?"

"Don't know yet."

Chet shot Johnny a glare from across the table, but that glare quickly changed to a smile once the waitress showed up with a pot of coffee. She bumped into Johnny's prosthetic as she set it on the table, the vibration going through Johnny's stump, and she glanced down. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Johnny told her, "Barely felt a thing."

She gave him a look as if she was unsure how to react, taking out her order pad and a pen. "Do you guys know what you want?"

They both placed their orders, and the waitress disappeared again. Chet leaned across the table as Johnny filled both their cups. "Do you ever tell people that you've got a fake leg?"

"Only if I have to," Johnny answered, "Doesn't really come up that often."

"Are you gonna get a different one?"

"Maybe," Johnny shrugged, "Depends on if the insurance is willing to cover it."

Chet looked baffled. "Why the hell wouldn't they cover something like that?"

"You know how insurance is," Johnny told him, "They're not gonna pay out for anything they don't have to. And if they decide a new leg isn't medically necessary, well, that's kinda it. These things are expensive."

Chet frowned as he took a drink of coffee. "Guess I never thought about that."

"Yeah well, there's a lot of stuff I never had to think about before," Johnny could feel his ire rising, "Seems like every damn day I've got to call them because they don't wanna cover something."

"That stinks."

"Yeah, it does, but what can I do?" Johnny replied, "Gotta keep after them."

Chet shook his head. "Man, that's dumb. We pay through the nose for insurance, and for what?"

"Exactly."

Chet seemed to ponder something. "Suppose maybe we could do a fundraiser or something if it came down to it."

Johnny shook his head. "Forget it, Chet. I can live with this thing. Been doing it all this time."

"Yeah, but you shouldn't have to," Chet argued, "I mean, it's a work-related injury. It's not like it was your fault."

"Wasn't anyone's fault," Johnny told him in a resigned tone, "Listen, can we just stop talking about this?"

"Sure, sure," Chet nodded, "So, uh, they figure out somewhere to put you?"

"Looks like it's gonna be dispatch," Johnny answered, "Still gotta figure out how I'm gonna get there. I haven't got another vehicle yet. No takers on the Rover, either."

"Don't suppose the bus goes that way."

Johnny hadn't considered that. It had been years since he'd needed to. "I guess I could find out."

"It's not the best option, but it's better than nothing," Chet responded, "Failing that…well, how do you feel about a trade? Just temporarily, until the Rover sells."

"Forget it," Johnny shook his head, "I'm better off taking the bus until I can get everything else figured out. This thing doesn't bend, anyway. There's really no good way to drive with it. Appreciate the offer, though."

Chet was obviously deep in thought. Finally, he shook his head. "Yeah, guess there's really no good options right now. Christ, I'm sorry."

"Chet, it's okay," Johnny told him, "Really. I've gotta figure out a lot of this stuff on my own."

"Yeah, but if I can help, I want to," Chet responded, "And I know I'm not the only one."

"I know, I know," Johnny huffed irritably, "But I can't count on that forever."

Chet stared at him from across the table briefly before shaking his head. "You'd do the same if it was one of us. Quit being so goddamn stubborn and take the help."

"I've taken enough," Johnny shot back, "Between crashing on Roy's couch for months and all the rides everyone's given me…nah, I don't wanna pile on more."

"I'm not gonna argue with you about it," Chet told him, "But the help's there if you need it."

The waitress brought their meals and set them down, and they started eating, effectively ending all conversation. Just as well, Johnny figured. He was sick to death of talking about this stuff anyway.

They started talking about other subjects, and Johnny couldn't help but notice Chet avoided all mention of life at the station. Again, just as well, as he got a lot of that from Roy, anyway. Johnny was increasingly getting some distance from that part of his life, which he figured was probably a good thing. It kept him from missing his old life so much, at least, that's what he kept telling himself. It still hurt a little to hear how life had gone on without him, but what else did he expect? The world didn't stop just because someone got hurt. Life went on, didn't it?

It did, it was just that his life was going to go in a very different direction from now on.

With their meals eaten and the pot of coffee finished off between them, Chet flagged down the waitress for the check, immediately picking it up. "I'll get this."

"Fine, I'll cover the tip," Johnny offered as he pulled out his wallet.

He put some cash down on the table and they slid out of the booth, starting toward the cash register. It was a brief wait until it was their turn, and the young woman flashed them a quick smile. "How was everything?"

"Oh, good as always," Chet told her with a smile.

Johnny hung back, waiting to see if Chet would follow through and actually ask her for her number, but after some small talk, it became apparent that wasn't going to happen.

When they got back to the car, Johnny couldn't help needling him. "You chickened out."

"I did not."

"Bawk bawk bawk," Johnny teased him.

"Go to hell, Johnny," Chet shot back in exasperation, "If you must know, I've asked her out before. She turned me down."

"Well, why didn't you just say that?" Johnny asked incredulously.

"Either way, you were gonna give me a hard time," Chet told him, "So why say anything?"

"Oh, give me a break," Johnny scoffed, "Did she say why she turned you down?"

"She told me she had a boyfriend."

"Listen, you know chicks just say that," Johnny argued, "That's no reason to give up."

"It's not that big a deal," Chet told him as he drove.

"If you say so."

"I say so," Chet told him firmly as he pulled into the driveway of Johnny's apartment house, "So hey, same time tomorrow?"

"Uh, a little later, actually," Johnny responded, "It's that support group thing."

"Oh, right," Chet nodded, "Okay, I'll be here. And don't forget, if you need some extra help, let me know."

"I will," Johnny answered as he climbed out, "Thanks."

Johnny started toward the apartment house as Chet pulled out, but something made him stop. If he remembered correctly, there was a bus stop not far from here. Might as well see if he could get any information about bus routes from there. Besides, the walk would do him some good.

He carefully made his way down the driveway and down the sidewalk to the bus stop. A few people were sitting in the shelter, paying no attention to him as he studied the map. It would take him longer than it would if he were driving, but this route, connecting with the one near the fire department dispatch center, would get him there. It would just require a little more planning on his part. That wasn't a problem.

He picked a couple of schedules for both routes and nodded to the few people waiting before walking back toward his apartment house. Instead of entering through the front, he went around the back where the Rover was parked with the 'For Sale' sign on the back.

Every so often he would come out here and unlock it and just sit in it. Roy had been starting it up regularly, but it hadn't been driven since Roy had driven it here after—

Johnny realized his life was now divided into two parts, before his amputation and after. It hadn't been all that long, and yet, it seemed so long ago that it might as well have been in a previous life. A life that had once been filled with camping and fishing and hiking and climbing was now severely limited, at least for the time being.

He unlocked the Rover and heaved himself into the driver's seat, simply sitting behind the wheel. Most days, he felt as if he were adjusting to this new version of normal just fine. It looked like he'd have a job to return to, he was getting used to his prosthesis and everything that came with it, and now he was going to be able to get around, albeit in a limited capacity.

But in moments like this, he could only mourn for what was and what would never be again.

He ran his hands over the steering wheel, drumming his fingers against it briefly. It was tempting to at least try to start it up, even though just reaching the clutch pedal would be hard enough, never mind pushing it down far enough so that the engine would catch.

"Forget it," he murmured softly.

Someone pulled up next to him and honked, causing him to jerk toward the sound. His mood immediately lifted as he slid down from the Rover.

"Hey, man," he called out.

"Hey," Ron climbed out of his car and met Johnny, grasping his hand and clapping him on the back. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd see if you were around."

Johnny responded in kind before stepping back. "Here I am."

Ron looked around him to the Rover. "You trying to go for a drive?"

"Funny," Johnny scoffed, "Nah, sometimes I just, you know, sit in it. Good for thinking."

"Uh-huh," Ron's skeptical tone was obvious. "Still trying to sell it?"

"Yeah," Johnny sighed, "no takers yet. You know anyone who wants a Rover?"

"Afraid not, man," Ron shook his head, "Well hey, since I'm here, you want to go for a ride?"

"Sure," Johnny answered with a nod, "Wasn't doing much of anything anyway."

They climbed back into Ron's car and Ron pulled out. Johnny wasn't all that curious about where they were headed. Anytime Johnny wasn't stuck at home was fine with him.

Soon they were on their way out of the city, following the long winding roads going nowhere in particular. "Out here's where I got hit. Car crossed over the double line and hit me," Ron told him out of nowhere.

"Wow," Johnny didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah," Ron let out a short laugh, "Motorcycle's a pile of scrap now. Don't think I'll be getting another one. I mentioned it to my mama last time I talked to her and she almost ripped my head off."

"I'll bet she did."

Ron's expression sobered as he drove. "She's been wanting me to come back home. She's been real worried about me. Keep trying to tell her I'm doing all right, but you know how folks can be."

"Yeah, I do," Johnny nodded in agreement, "I couldn't stand being at Roy and Joanne's anymore. Love them to pieces, but…I don't know. Just felt like they were hovering, you know?"

"How're you doing back in your own place?"

"Okay," Johnny shrugged, "Still not getting out much except for therapy. But that's probably gonna be wrapping up soon. I think I'm about to get back to work. They're sticking me in dispatch, so I'm probably gonna start training in that soon."

"I know it's not really what you want," Ron told him, "At least you've got a job to go back to."

The words hung in the air for a long moment before they registered with Johnny. "Meaning you don't."

Ron pressed his lips together. "Management says they don't have a place for me. They're looking to cut jobs anyway. Union's dragging their damn feet and won't give me an answer."

"So maybe your mom's right to be worried about you."

Ron huffed in irritation. "They've been looking for a reason to get rid of me. This one's as good as any, I guess. With the way jobs are drying up, I doubt there are any jobs in Detroit, either. And I damn sure don't want my mama fussing over me all the time."

"What're you gonna do?"

"I don't know, man," Ron turned off the road and turned around, and soon they started back the way they had come. "Just going to hang in there, I guess. Maybe go to college like my sister's been nagging me to do."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that, too," Johnny responded, "You know, in case dispatch doesn't work out for me."

"Oh yeah?" Ron sounded interested. "What're you thinking about going back for?"

"Uh, not sure yet," Johnny hedged, "Was thinking about maybe physical therapy or occupational therapy."

"No shit," Ron sounded impressed, "Bet that one, uh, friend of yours would help you out if you needed it."

Johnny laughed at that. "I haven't seen much of her since I've been out of rehab."

"Have you called her?"

"Well, no," Johnny admitted.

"Well, what the hell are you waiting for?" Ron demanded, "Could be the woman of your dreams there, and you're letting her get away."

"I don't know," Johnny shrugged, "She did say she just wanted to be friends, remember?"

Ron waved that off. "Man, that's just what women say. You know better than that. And don't tell me you just want to be friends with her. I know better."

Johnny merely shook his head. "Fine, I'll call her. Happy?"

Ron smirked. "You will be."

"Maybe."

"No 'maybe' about it."

They went back and forth in that vein for a while, driving around until Ron finally started back toward Johnny's place. He pulled into the driveway and parked next to the Rover. "Hey man, thanks for coming out with me. Really needed the company." Ron told him.

"Thanks for getting me out of the house for a while," Johnny answered as he climbed out, "And good luck, no matter where you land."

"I'll let you know," Ron responded, "Don't you worry about that. And call that woman."

"I will."

Johnny closed the door before crossing over to the Rover, locking it up before heading back into the apartment house. He stopped at his mailbox, pulling out a stack of envelopes. Bills, bills, and more damn bills. Johnny dreaded opening any of them. They never seemed to stop coming.

He slowly made his way up the stairs and let himself in. It was quiet, as expected, no kids to greet him, no sounds of DeSoto family life surrounding him.

But wasn't this what he wanted? Hadn't he wanted to live independently again? Now he was wondering if it had been worth it.

He shook off the thought and crossed over to the stereo to turn on the radio, letting the sound of the DJ's voice fill the room and make it feel a little less empty. What did he do to occupy himself before this? Johnny knew the answer to that. He'd load up the Rover and head for the trails, maybe spend the night if he was so inclined. He might have a date, so maybe it would be a dinner and a movie night.

Right now he didn't have the freedom to do any of that, and that only further fueled his antsy feeling.

Maybe he should give Mary Lynn a call.

No, he wouldn't do that. He had to deal with this feeling, not avoid it. And the best way to do that was to just work through it. Besides, he had plenty he could do around here. He had so many books that he had bought and were now collecting dust on the shelf. Now was the perfect time to get through them.

He made his way to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee before heading off to the bedroom. Hell, it was just him here, might as well get comfortable.

Once in the bedroom, he took down his jeans and undid the strap that held his prosthesis, taking it off with a sigh. As helpful as it was, it was also at times damned uncomfortable, and sometimes he just felt better not wearing it. He took his jeans off the rest of the way and grabbed his crutches, heading into the bathroom.

This had become part of the ritual by now. Take off the leg, take off the sock and toss it in the sink to wash and set aside to dry, clean off his stump and check for any blisters, any rashes, any sores. Massage the area. That wasn't as necessary now that the scar was healed, but it still made him feel better and seemed to ease any phantom pains that occasionally cropped up.

He was going to have to factor all of this into the time it took for him to get ready for work. That, coupled with the likelihood of having to take the bus for the foreseeable future, overwhelmed him a little. Sure, he was well practiced at doing all of this for his appointments, but that was when he had someone to give him a ride.

Once again, he found himself questioning why he had been so damn eager to leave Roy and Joanne's and return to his own place. Living on his own again wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Still, he wasn't going to go back, despite all the assurances from both of them that he was more than welcome to stay. No, he'd manage. He would have had to do it eventually anyway.

He pushed himself upright, balancing on one crutch while he washed out his sock and set it on the sink to dry. If he remembered correctly, he had a couple extra, so it would be no problem to let this one dry.

By the time he took care of everything, his coffee was ready, and he made his way out to the kitchen to pour himself a cup. It was a bit of a challenge to get it to the living room without spilling it, but he managed, setting it on the end table before crossing over to his bookshelf to select something.

Finally, he was settled in on the couch and absorbed in his book while the radio played in the background, so much so that he didn't hear the phone ring at first. Finally it sunk in, and he picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, John," Mary Lynn's voice was on the other end.

"Oh, hey," Johnny tried to sound casual, "How'd you get my number?"

"Your friend's wife gave it to me," Mary Lynn answered, "I hope that's okay."

"Oh yeah, that's fine, just fine," Johnny quickly replied, "So, uh, what's going on?"

"Well, that's what I wanted to ask you," Mary Lynn laughed softly, "I just got off work and was wondering if you were up for some company. If you're not, it's okay. I know it's short notice."

"No, it's fine," Johnny told her, "I mean, it's not like I'm doing much of anything."

"Good," Mary Lynn replied, "I could bring something for dinner if you'd like. I think there's a pizza place on the way to your place."

"Uh, are you sure about that?" Johnny countered, "I don't think I've told you where I live."

"Well…your friend's wife also gave me your address," Mary Lynn answered cautiously.

Normally it wouldn't have bothered Johnny if Joanne had given his number and address to a pretty girl, but for some reason, this time it made him a little uncomfortable.

On the other hand, having some company in the form of said pretty girl would be nice, even if she just wanted to be friends with him.

"Huh," Johnny finally responded, "Well, then I guess you can stop by and pick up a pizza, if you don't mind. Get what you want. I'm not that picky."

"I'll keep that in mind," Mary Lynn answered with a brief laugh, "Okay, I'll see you soon."

"Bye," Johnny hung up and immediately set his book aside. At the very least, he should probably put on some shorts over his boxers to make himself a little more presentable. Did he have paper plates? He was pretty sure he had picked up some on the last shopping trip Marco had helped him with.

By the time he heard the knock at his door, he had paper plates and paper towels out on his coffee table. He quickly ran his hand through his hair and opened the door.

Mary Lynn had a pizza box in one hand and a bottle of soda in the other. "Hi."

"Hey, hi," Johnny moved away slightly, "Come on in. You can set everything on the coffee table. I'll find some cups."

He made his way to the kitchen and found a pair of plastic cups before returning to the living room. "Ah shoot. You want ice?"

"I'll get it," Mary Lynn told him, "Sit."

The firmness in her tone left no room for argument, so Johnny eased himself back down onto the couch, opening the pizza box and pulling out a couple of slices for Mary Lynn before grabbing a couple for himself.

"Here you go," Mary Lynn handed him a cup, and Johnny reached for the soda bottle, opening it carefully and filling both their cups. She responded with that slight smile. "Thank you."

"I should be thanking you," Johnny told her, "Kind of nice to have the company. You want me to put on some music? I kinda get tired of listening to these DJs yap between songs."

"If you want."

Johnny made his way over to the stereo, choosing an album and setting it on the turntable and dropping the needle. Soon the sounds of The Doobie Brothers filled the room, though Johnny turned down the volume slightly.

"Sorry about that," Johnny explained as he returned to the couch, "The turntable's louder than the radio."

"I don't mind," Mary Lynn replied, "I saw these guys in concert last summer. They put on a great show."

"Yeah?" Johnny was immediately interested, "Must admit, I don't go to a lot of concerts. Not really my thing. Too many people in a small space."

"That's why I always get assigned seating," Mary Lynn responded, "I wouldn't want to be in general admission. Like you said, it's too crowded."

"Yeah, especially with this thing," Johnny patted his stump, "I have a hard enough time getting through a grocery store, never mind a concert crowd."

"That's understandable," Mary Lynn nodded, "But you can learn to navigate those spaces if you want to. Not that it's easy, but it's possible."

Johnny shook his head. "I'll pass on that. I'd rather learn how to navigate a hiking trail again."

Mary Lynn glanced at the brochures that Johnny had left on the coffee table. "Right. I remember you talking about how much you enjoy that."

"Think that's what I miss the most," Johnny admitted, "That and just being able to pick up and go anywhere when I want. You know anyone who wants to buy a Rover?"

Mary Lynn laughed a little. "I'm afraid not. But if you ever get to the point where you're ready to take on those trails, I wouldn't mind taking you."

Johnny took a deep breath and exhaled. "I appreciate that, but that's not really the point. Right now, it's tough to get around on my own. I'm relying pretty heavily on Jo and Roy and the guys at the station, and I don't wanna do that forever."

He paused for a moment before continuing. "But uh, that aside, I wouldn't mind having you along for company, if you're into that."

Mary Lynn smiled at that. "When you're ready, let me know."

"Right," Johnny nodded, picking up the brochure for the hiking group. Maybe when he went to the support group tomorrow, he'd ask more about that. He'd been talking with both Jack and Cheryl, and both of them had been encouraging, though they were both still trying to get him into the pool. Johnny still wasn't terribly excited about that idea.

They talked a little about nothing much in particular, and Johnny found that he enjoyed having her company without feeling the need to impress her. Maybe this would be okay, just being friends.

The record ended, and Johnny pushed himself off the couch to flip it over before returning. Mary Lynn glanced at his stump. "It looks like you've healed up really well."

"Yeah, not too bad, I guess," Johnny answered, "Still get those weird phantom pains from time to time, but the massage seems to help. Does feel pretty good to take that damn thing off at the end of the day."

"I can imagine," Mary Lynn replied, "You should be ready for a definitive prosthesis soon, right?"

"Depends on if the insurance is gonna cover any of it," Johnny told her, "I've been arguing with them over so many of my medical expenses that I'm tired of fighting with them."

Mary Lynn frowned slightly. "That's ridiculous."

"Tell them that," Johnny huffed in exasperation, "Things are piling up as it is. I don't see any point in adding to it."

"Except that it would make a huge difference in your quality of life," Mary Lynn argued.

"Sure," Johnny acknowledged, "I know that, and you know that. Insurance company doesn't give a damn."

"You're not the first person to tell me that," Mary Lynn replied, "And likely won't be the last."

Johnny shrugged. "I mean, I guess I'll check, but…well, there's only so much fighting I'm willing to do."

"I understand that," Mary Lynn nodded, "But if there's anything I can do to help, let me know. I've duked it out with a few insurance companies myself."

The record ended, which gave Johnny an opportunity to end the conversation. He found another record and put it on before heading back toward the couch. Mary Lynn was taking another piece of pizza and rising from the couch with both their cups. "Do you want more ice?"

"Uh, sure," Johnny still wasn't sure how he felt about all of this. Normally, this kind of attention from a woman would feel good, but right now it just felt uncomfortable. Maybe this was a bad idea. He didn't know.

But it would be rude to just kick her out. Christ, this would have been a lot easier to figure out if things were, well, different.

He sat back down on the couch with a heavy sigh before reaching for another piece of pizza. Mary Lynn soon returned and filled both their cups. "Did you want more pizza? I can put it away if you're done."

"Mary Lynn, stop," Johnny huffed in exasperation, "Just…just sit. Don't worry about it."

Mary Lynn did so, eyeing Johnny carefully. "I'm doing more than I should. I know."

Johnny felt a little bad for snapping at her. "Listen, I appreciate what you're trying to do. I do. It's just, well, maybe it's a little much."

Mary Lynn smiled slightly. "You're right. I know."

Johnny leaned forward, picking up his cup and taking a drink. "I like you just fine, you know. You don't need to fuss over me. Got enough people doing that. Hell, it's the whole reason I came home."

Mary Lynn shifted slightly so that she faced him, picking at her pizza slice. "I must admit, I like you, too."

"Well, hey, that settles it, right?" Johnny held out his hand. "Friends?"

Mary Lynn grasped his hand and squeezed. "Friends."

Johnny breathed a sigh of relief, and they soon moved on to other topics. "You know, I've been kinda meaning to ask you. How'd you get into physical therapy? I mean, what made you decide on that?"

"Well, it was either this or nursing," Mary Lynn explained, "My mom was a nurse. I just had to be different, I guess. Why?"

"Was kinda thinking, I guess," Johnny answered casually, "I was looking at my options and well, I'm gonna be pretty limited at the fire department. Trying to think of what else I could do."

"You're going into dispatch, right?"

"Probably," Johnny responded between bites, "Still waiting for the official word. But maybe I could work and go to school."

"It wouldn't be easy," Mary Lynn warned him, "It's a bit more involved than paramedic training."

"Well yeah, I know that," Johnny replied, "I don't know. Maybe it's a dumb idea."

"I didn't say it was dumb," Mary Lynn pointed out, "Just that there's a lot to it. Have you taken any college classes?"

Johnny shook his head. "I probably could have, but I didn't know what I wanted to do, and the money wasn't there anyway."

Mary Lynn nodded. "If you're serious about it, you can probably take some general education classes at one of the community colleges to see what you think. You're going to need those classes no matter what degree you pursue."

"Suppose you're right," Johnny mused, "How would I even go about starting that?"

Mary Lynn smiled, rising from the couch. "Where's your phone book?"

Johnny waved his hand in the general direction of his phone table, and Mary Lynn crossed the room to grab the phone book. "How about a map?"

Johnny pushed himself off the couch and pulled an atlas from the bookshelf to hand to her. Soon they were side by side on the couch. Johnny had the atlas open while Mary Lynn flipped through the phone book. She traced a finger along the page of the atlas. "Okay, so there's the closest community college to you."

Johnny frowned as he studied the map. "You suppose the bus goes out there?"

"I'm sure it does," Mary Lynn replied as she ran her finger down the page of the phone book, "Okay, found the phone number. Just give them a call, tell them you're interested in some of their programs. They'll send you a course catalog, and you'll probably be able to tour the campus if you want."

"That's it?"

"Well, there's a little more to it than that," Mary Lynn laughed, "But that'll be enough to get you started."

"Huh," Johnny stared at the map, the location of the college under his finger, "Imagine me, going to college. Pretty funny."

"What's so funny about it?" Mary Lynn asked, "Didn't you just get done telling me that you could have gone to college out of high school?"

"I mean, maybe I could have," Johnny told her, "Feels like I'm a little old for it now."

"Don't be silly," Mary Lynn replied, "Lots of people go back to college as adults. You wouldn't even be the oldest one there, I'll bet."

"Well…I'll give it some thought," Johnny responded, "Suppose there's no real rush. It was just a thought I had."

Mary Lynn shrugged. "It's a good thought. There's nothing wrong with thinking about alternatives."

"Suppose not," Johnny closed the atlas and set it on the coffee table, "You know, it's funny. I figured I'd just work for the department until I couldn't anymore. Didn't really think about how long that'd be. Definitely wasn't counting on, well, this."

Mary Lynn smiled slightly. "I'm sure no one does. But if you don't mind me saying so, you've adjusted to this injury very well."

Johnny shook his head. "Doesn't feel like it some days."

"It can very much be one step forward and two steps back."

"More like one step forward and ten steps back."

"I think you're being a little dramatic."

Johnny considered that for a moment. "Well, maybe a little. Coming back home was probably the toughest part of this. For some reason I figured it'd be no big deal but…it kinda is."

Mary Lynn reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly. "This is hard. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, including you. And don't think for a moment that you have to keep up a brave front, either. Let people help you."

"I have been," Johnny huffed irritably, "All I've done is let people help. I need to start doing this myself. I can't lean on everyone forever."

"It's only been a few months," Mary Lynn reminded him, "These types of injuries can take a year or more to rehabilitate. And really, you've come so far in that time. I remember when I first started working with you in Rampart. It didn't take much to wear you out."

"Yeah, that time's kinda fuzzy for me," Johnny told her, "I try not to think too much about it."

He realized he was still holding on to Mary Lynn's hand, and his first instinct was to let it go. Instead, he brushed his thumb along hers, taking in a deep breath before exhaling. "I do remember when the crew was trying to get me out. It's a little fuzzy, but I remember thinking that things must have been pretty bad when Roy wouldn't tell me what was going on. I heard him give Rampart my vitals. I knew it wasn't good. Kinda had a feeling that maybe I wasn't gonna make it."

"I suppose in that sense, you're pretty lucky," Mary Lynn answered quietly.

"Sure as hell didn't feel lucky at the time," Johnny admitted, "Still have days when I don't feel so lucky. Sometimes I just go out and sit in the Rover. It's probably not good for me, you know. Reminds me of my old life. But I guess it kinda makes me feel normal, at least for a minute."

Johnny huffed, releasing Mary Lynn's hand. "And I don't know why I'm telling you all of this."

"Seems to me you need to tell someone," Mary Lynn replied as she closed the pizza box and rose from the couch to take it into the kitchen, "I don't mind listening sometimes if you need it."

"I don't wanna dump this stuff on you," Johnny told her as he pushed himself off the couch, gathering the paper plates and their cups and following her, "Don't wanna dump it on anyone, really. Just have a hard time keeping it all to myself, I guess."

"I can imagine," Mary Lynn's voice carried from inside the refrigerator, "Do you want any help cleaning up?"

"Nah, that's okay," Johnny replied, "There isn't much."

The kitchen was so small that they nearly bumped into each other as Mary Lynn closed the refrigerator and Johnny started to set the cups in the sink. She stopped herself with a hand on his chest. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Johnny laid his hand over hers, praying that she couldn't feel how fast his heart was beating, "It's, uh, not a very big kitchen. Not a lot of room."

Mary Lynn smiled at that, and Johnny backed away enough to let her out of the kitchen. "I suppose I should be going. I picked up a shift at the rehab facility tomorrow."

"Well hey, you might see me around," Johnny told her, relieved that his heart seemed to be slowing down a little, "I'm going to one of the support groups."

"That's great," Mary Lynn smiled a little wider, her eyes lighting up, "I hope it helps. And if you'd like to get together again sometime, we can work that out."

"Um, yeah," Johnny nodded, "Sure. And hey, who knows, maybe one of these days I'll be able to take you out somewhere."

"I'm sure you will," Mary Lynn stepped toward him to hug him gently, "Good night, John."

"Good night," Johnny managed to hug her in return, and she pulled away to leave, closing the door behind her.

Johnny let out a long sigh as he locked the door. There was an awful lot to think about, and he wasn't sure he was ready for any of it. But maybe he could take some small steps, just as he had with his rehab.

One step at a time. That's how things got done. And so, he'd do the same here.

He finished tidying up and turned out the lights on his way to the bedroom, climbing into bed and doing his stretching exercises before settling in for the night.

One step at a time. That was the last thought he had before drifting off to sleep.