By the time Chet showed up the next morning, Johnny was feeling somewhat less overwhelmed. He'd only woken up a couple of times during the night, the dreams fading almost as soon as they'd jolted him awake. Maybe talking about this stuff with the support group would help.

"Really appreciate this, Chet," Johnny told him as they climbed into his car.

"I keep telling you, it's no problem," Chet assured him, "I don't mind. Oh, hey, I might have a line on a buyer for the Rover."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Chet nodded as he pulled out onto the street, "Was talking to a buddy of mine last night. He's been looking for something to take off-roading. Told him your Rover might be just what he's looking for."

"Okay, yeah," Johnny nodded, a little pang of sadness stabbing at him, "Have him call me and we'll work something out."

"I will."

Chet kept up a steady stream of chatter for the entire drive, finally dropping him off at the entrance to the outpatient clinic. "I'll be back in a while."

"Okay, thanks."

Johnny climbed out and went inside, finding the room where the support group was meeting. A few men were already seated in the middle of the room, and the smell of coffee floated through the room.

"Welcome," one of the men stood up and made his way over, "Name's Terry. I run the group."

"John," Johnny stuck out a hand, and Terry grasped it firmly, "First time here."

"Well, it's great to meet you," Terry told him, "Grab yourself a cup of coffee and come join us. We'll start here in a few minutes."

Johnny did so, carefully making his way toward the circle and easing himself down, hooking his cane over the back of his chair. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, and he nodded in greeting before taking a drink of his coffee.

"Just so you know, you don't have to talk if you don't want to," Terry explained, "Sometimes it takes a while for guys to get comfortable with talking."

"Appreciate that," Johnny responded, shifting slightly so that he was a little more comfortable.

Slowly more men showed up, taking up the remaining chairs, and Terry set his hands on his knees. "Well, we might as well get started. We have someone new joining us today. Everyone, this is John. John, if you want, you can tell us a little about yourself."

Johnny swallowed the coffee he was drinking and set the cup down on the floor. "Well…I was a firefighter and paramedic with Los Angeles County up until a few months ago. I got trapped during a rescue operation, and my leg got torn up to the point it couldn't be saved. Been recovering ever since. I'm just, uh, trying to figure out my life now, I guess."

"Like so many of us," Terry nodded, and there were murmurs of agreement, "Thank you for sharing, John. So, does anyone want to start? Anyone have any victories this week?"

"I finally got my disability approved," a young man, younger than Johnny, even, spoke up first.

"About damn time," Terry nodded approvingly to a smattering of applause from the others.

"Yeah," the young man agreed, "Those bastards thought they were gonna get away with not paying me. I say fuck that. They sent me over there to get blown up, they're gonna pay me. And I get back pay from when I originally filed, so maybe me and Mary can finally get our own place."

"That's great, Mike," Terry told him, "Okay, anyone else?"

There was a brief silence until another man spoke up. "I asked that girl out, and she said yes. So we've got a date on Friday."

"Good for you, Fred," Terry replied, "You've been talking about her for weeks."

Fred smiled, his face turning a bright red, "She's pretty cool. It's not going to be anything fancy, just dinner and a movie."

"Still, that's a big step," Terry responded, "Have fun. Anyone else?"

There was a longer silence, and Johnny glanced around, wiping his hands on his jeans. Finally, he decided to speak up. "I've been crashing on my friend's couch for a couple of months. I went back to my own place a couple weeks ago."

"That's good, John," Terry nodded, "That's a big step in recovery, being able to take care of yourself. How's that going?"

"Uh, okay, mostly," Johnny admitted, "It's tough to get around without help. But I think I'm starting to figure it out."

"You'll get there," Terry told him, "It's a tough adjustment to make, right?"

"Right," someone else agreed, "Learning how to work this new leg has been a pain. Worth it, though. I can drive without scaring my wife."

A round of laughter went through the group, and from there the topics moved into some of the challenges they were experiencing, and Johnny found himself realizing that he wasn't alone in this. That somehow made him feel better, even though he hadn't said much this first time around.

It also made him realize that he was one of the few single guys in the group, and he wasn't sure he liked that.

Still, the discussion did him some good, enough that he'd probably come back if he could arrange it. Of course, that was going to be tough once he went back to work.

Which was one more thing he still had to arrange. He'd been waiting for the call to set up a meeting, and he was feeling increasingly tense about the whole thing. All he wanted was to know where he stood and what he'd be doing, if anything. Once he knew, he could make other arrangements.

The group broke up, though a few of the guys lingered around the coffee pot. Johnny poured himself another cup and hung back for a moment until Terry approached him. "Hey, I'm glad you made it today. Seems like it did you some good."

"Yeah, it did," Johnny answered, "But I'll probably be going back to work soon. Don't know how this'll fit in."

"Oh, we have a couple of evening groups," Terry told him, "And you know, guys come and go all the time. They show up when they need it and drop after a while. If that ends up being you, that's fine."

"Good to know, thanks," Johnny nodded.

Terry clapped him on the shoulder and left him to talk to some of the other guys. They all seemed to be in different stages of recovery, some on crutches, others, like him, using canes, others getting around without any mobility aids at all.

Someday, he'd be one of them. Someday.

He finished off his coffee and tossed the cup in the trash, waving at Terry before leaving the room and starting toward the exit of the outpatient clinic.

As he crossed through the lobby, he spotted Mary Lynn, who was talking to another woman. She turned just as Johnny approached, greeting him with that slight smile. "Hello again."

"Hey," Johnny leaned a little on his cane, turning his attention to the other woman, "Sorry, didn't mean to cut in."

"Oh, that's okay," the other woman told him, patting Johnny's arm lightly, "I was just about to go back to work. I'll see you in a few minutes, Mary Lynn."

"I'll be right there," Mary Lynn replied before turning her attention back to Johnny, "So, you made it to the group this morning?"

"Uh, yeah, I did," Johnny's nerves were jangling as he leaned a little harder on his cane, "It was okay. Didn't have a lot to say, but I got to listen. Seemed to help a little."

"Good," Mary Lynn smiled a little wider.

"Yeah," Johnny nodded in response, "Gonna have to figure out something else depending on how my work schedule goes."

"No word on that yet, I assume?"

"No, not yet," Johnny shook his head, "Should hear something soon, though."

"I hope you do," Mary Lynn checked her watch, "Well, I should be going. It was good to see you again."

"Hey yeah, you too," Johnny couldn't explain the fluttering feeling in his chest, "You know, if you get some free time, we could get together again. If you want, that is."

Mary Lynn nodded. "I'd like that. I'll let you know."

"Great!" Johnny could feel the smile tug at his own face as he turned to leave, immediately crashing right into someone. He instinctively reached out to steady the other person, throwing himself off balance and sending himself to the floor.

"Young man, are you all right?" the older woman he had crashed into asked immediately.

"I'm fine," Johnny answered a little more sharply than he'd intended as he shifted to push himself off the floor. Another set of hands were on him, helping to guide him upright.

It was Mary Lynn. Of course. It figured she'd be right there. He felt his face grow hot as he steadied himself. As if this wasn't embarrassing enough.

He pulled away as soon as he felt steady enough, shifting to lean on his cane. "Thanks," he mumbled, not daring to meet her eyes.

"It's okay," Mary Lynn told him quietly, "It happens to everyone sooner or later."

Johnny glanced through the doors, where Chet had just pulled up. "Gotta go. My ride's here."

He was aware of how harsh he sounded, and he wanted to explain himself. But the look on Mary Lynn's face stopped him. It was clear she didn't want to hear it.

Instead, he simply straightened himself up and made his way out of the clinic without making eye contact with anyone, throwing the door open and all but plopping into the passenger seat before slamming it shut.

Chet's expression was incredulous. "Hey man, take it easy. The old girl's delicate."

"Sorry," Johnny muttered.

Chet's expression changed to one of concern. "What's bugging you?"

Johnny shook his head. "Nothing."

Chet let out a short laugh. "Doesn't sound like nothing."

"I said it's nothing," Johnny shot back, "Just drop it, okay?"

"Okay, jeez," Chet pulled away from the clinic, "You wanna stop off somewhere for some food?"

"That's okay," Johnny replied quietly, staring out the passenger side window, "Think I just wanna go home."

They drove in silence for a while until Johnny finally let out a long huff. "I, uh, kinda took a tumble. Ran into someone and was trying to help them and ended up needing a hand myself."

"That's rough, man," Chet responded sympathetically, "You okay?"

"Oh, sure," Johnny answered resignedly, "Would've been alright if Mary Lynn hadn't been right there."

"Aw, damn," Chet let out a brief laugh before catching himself, "I mean, yeah, I get why that'd be embarrassing."

"I kinda got short with her," Johnny told him, "I didn't mean to, but, well, you know."

"Sure," Chet acknowledged, "Nothing like making a damn fool of yourself in front of God and everyone."

Johnny sighed heavily. "All those people. And Mary Lynn. I'm never gonna be able to show my face in there again."

"Okay, that's maybe a little dramatic, Johnny," Chet chided him, "You've gotta go back, at least for a while."

"I'll find another place to go."

"No, you won't," Chet told him firmly.

Johnny fell silent for a long moment, letting his thoughts rattle around in his head. Finally, he let out a short huff. "Fine, I'll go back. But not if Mary Lynn's there."

"Johnny."

Johnny could hear the scolding tone in Chet's voice. "Okay, okay, I'll go back. Face my fears, all that good stuff. Blah, blah, blah."

"That's the spirit," Chet replied with a note of sarcasm in his voice.

Johnny merely shook his head and looked out the window for the rest of the ride. Maybe he was being a little dramatic about the whole thing. After all, it wasn't the first time he'd fallen down since he'd gotten the prosthetic, no matter how careful he tried to be. But as Jack reminded him during countless sessions, learning to fall and how to get up was just as important as learning how to walk using the prosthesis.

By the time Chet pulled into the driveway, Johnny was feeling a little bit better about the whole thing. Maybe he'd try to give Mary Lynn a call, swallow his pride a little, and apologize to her for the way he acted. She had only been trying to help, after all.

"So hey, I'll give my buddy your phone number, if that's okay," Chet told him.

"Yeah, go ahead," Johnny answered with a nod, "The sooner I sell it, the better."

Chet nodded. "Alright, I'll see you around."

"Yeah, thanks," Johnny replied, climbing out of the car.

Chet pulled away, and Johnny made his way over to the Rover, unlocking it and climbing inside. This might be the last time he did so, and he wanted to remember every bit of this.

He closed his eyes, curling his fingers around the steering wheel and gripping it tightly, remembering every trip he'd taken in this thing, every night he'd camped out in the back of it, the sense of freedom he'd always felt whenever he headed out somewhere after a tough shift.

Those days were gone forever, and the thought caused his emotions to unexpectedly get the better of him. He swallowed hard, trying to push those emotions aside. It wouldn't do any good to wallow over this. The Rover was now a part of his past, and he simply had to accept it.

Except he didn't want to. He didn't want to give up the Rover. He didn't want to give up his freedom. He didn't want to acknowledge his limitations. He didn't want to adjust and adapt. He just didn't want to.

He slammed his fist hard against the steering wheel, almost immediately yelling in pain and anger as he rubbed the side of his hand. "Stupid. That was stupid. What the hell is wrong with you?!"

The anger left him almost as quickly as it had arisen, leaving him feeling deflated and more than a little ashamed of himself for his outburst. Good thing there had been no one around to witness it.

"Okay, that's enough," he told himself, "Pity party's over."

He opened the door and eased himself down from the Rover, locking it and holding the keys in his hand. Before long, these keys and the Rover would belong to someone else, someone who would hopefully get as much use out of it as he had.

Finally, he made his way inside and started up the stairs. It was getting easier, though it was a stretch to say he was getting used to it. As he was unlocking his apartment door, he could hear the phone ringing. Of course, that was when the key suddenly decided to get jammed in the lock.

"Dammit," Johnny huffed as he wiggled the key. By the time he got it unlocked, the phone had stopped ringing.

"Great," Johnny muttered, "Just great."

It could have been the department, it could have been Chet's buddy calling to ask about the Rover, it could have been anyone. He supposed he'd never know now.

The phone rang again, and Johnny nearly stumbled over himself to get to it. "Hello?"

"John Gage?"

"Yeah," Johnny cleared his throat, took a deep breath and exhaled, "I mean, yes, this is John."

"This is the Personnel Office," the man on the other end told him, "We'd like to discuss your transition back to active duty."

Johnny took a deep breath the settle his nerves before answering. "Uh, sure. Whenever's a good time to meet. Wait. It's gonna have to work around the bus schedule. I can't drive."

"Of course, we can work around that," the man on the other hand replied smoothly.

They arranged a date and time, and Johnny scribbled it down before hanging up. He stared at the piece of paper for a long time. This was it, he supposed. He at least had a job to go back to, and for that Johnny was grateful, even if it would be nothing like his old job.

The phone rang again, snapping him out of his thoughts as he picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hi, is this John?"

"Uh, yeah," Johnny replied.

"My name's Keith Ellis," the man on the other end explained, "I'm a friend of Chet Kelly's. He said you had a Land Rover for sale?"

Something squeezed deep inside Johnny's chest. "Yeah, I do."

"Great!" Keith replied with a little too much enthusiasm, Johnny thought. "I'd like to stop by and check it out, if that's okay with you."

"Sure, sure," Johnny agreed, "I've got some time today if you want. Otherwise, we can find some other time."

"Today's good," Keith told him.

They arranged for a time, and Johnny gave Keith his address. "Just pull around the back of the apartment house. The Rover's parked out back. You can't miss it."

Once they hung up, Johnny let out a long breath. A twinge of sadness went through him at the thought of selling the Rover, even though he knew it was the right thing to do. At least someone else would get some use out of it.

Before long, there was a knock on his door. Johnny peeked through the peephole before opening up and letting the man in. "Hey, you must be Keith."

"And you must be Johnny," Keith stepped inside, extending a hand.

Johnny did likewise and nodded. "Chet told me you were looking for something to use off-roading."

"Yeah," Keith answered as they left the apartment and headed down the stairs, "Sounded like your Rover would be just the thing. Sorry about the circumstances."

Johnny carefully made his way down the stairs and outside. "Well, figure it might as well go to someone who can use it."

"Do you mind if I test it out?" Keith asked.

"No, of course not," Johnny replied as he handed Keith the keys, "How else are you gonna find out if it's what you want?"

They climbed in, and Johnny couldn't help feeling out of place in the passenger seat as Keith started it up. It took a couple tries for the engine to catch, but once it did, it ran as smoothly as Johnny remembered. "Sorry, it's been sitting for a while."

"No problem," Keith answered casually as he backed up the Rover and pulled out, "So, you used to do a lot of camping and stuff?"

"Yeah," Johnny replied as they drove out of the city and out into the more mountainous areas, "Haven't done much off-roading, but I've taken this thing out into some pretty rough areas."

"Rides pretty good," Keith commented, "What year is this again?"

"It's a '75," Johnny told him, "Had a '69 before that. Kinda got hooked on them."

"I can understand why."

Keith took the Rover out on a dirt road, every bump and bounce vibrating through Johnny. He couldn't help wincing a little at the thought of his Rover taking such rough treatment, even as he knew it could handle it.

They drove on for a long while before finally turning back, and Johnny couldn't help the pang that went through him. He missed being out here, whether he was climbing or hiking or camping. Maybe he would check out one of those groups described in the brochures. If he discovered it wasn't for him, that wasn't the end of the world, he supposed.

Finally, they returned to Johnny's apartment house, and Keith shifted it into neutral before pulling back the parking brake and shutting it off. "Man, that's a nice vehicle. Really appreciate you letting me try it out. How much are you asking for it?"

Johnny told him, and they briefly negotiated before coming to an agreement. Since he hadn't gotten so much as a nibble before this, Johnny figured this was probably the best offer he was going to get. They shook on the deal, and that was that.

"I'll have the title ready for you when you come to pick it up," Johnny told him.

"Great," Keith answered with a smile, "And I'll have the cashier's check ready for you."

They agreed on a day to finalize the deal, and Keith left, leaving Johnny alone with the Rover. He ran his hand over the door, resting it there for a long moment. This was it. Another piece of his old life he was letting go.

He let out a heavy sigh as he locked up the Rover and headed back up to his apartment. Maybe one day he'd figure out a way to drive again. Until then, he would just have to learn to manage.

# # #

The next day Johnny waited at the bus stop near his apartment. He had mapped out the route to headquarters and had made sure to leave himself plenty of time to get there for this meeting.

Still, every part of him felt as if it was on edge. It wasn't as if he hadn't known this day was coming. Everything he'd been doing had, in part, led up to this point, learning how to function with his prosthetic so that he could lead something like a normal life.

Returning to work was part of that life, and the sooner he knew for sure where he was going to land, the better.

He slowly climbed the steps of the bus and dropped his fare in before finding a seat. It took some adjustment on his part to find a position that didn't leave his prosthetic sticking out in the aisle, but he managed. The bus was rapidly filling, but no one seemed in much of a mood to talk, and so Johnny followed suit, watching as the bus took them to the transfer point.

It took him some time to find his next bus, and he had to admit he was feeling a little overwhelmed already. How would he manage this every workday?

No, he was being ridiculous. People managed this every day. He'd figure it out in time. It was just yet another adjustment he'd have to make, another in a long series of them.

God, he was tired of adjusting.

Finally, he spotted his stop and reached up to pull the cord. The bus came to a stop, and Johnny slowly made his way down the steps and down the block to headquarters. It took longer than he'd anticipated, and by the time he finally made it, he was exhausted.

Still, he tried to put a good face on things as he approached the desk. The clerk looked up and greeted him with a smile. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm here for a personnel meeting. John Gage?"

"One moment," the clerk picked up a phone and dialed a number, "Hello, John Gage is here for his meeting with you…Okay, I'll let him know."

She hung up and turned her attention back to Johnny. "He'll be right with you. Please have a seat."

"Thanks," Johnny found a place to sit down, letting out a long sigh. He could feel where his socket was rubbing against his upper thigh, but he didn't have time to deal with that right now. Once his meeting was over, he'd take a moment to examine it.

"John?" a voice rang out. A man was standing at an open door.

"Here," Johnny quickly rose from his seat and made his way to the door, nodding toward the man holding the door for him.

"Right through here," the man told him, gesturing toward an empty office, "Go ahead and have a seat. Would you like something? Water? Coffee?"

"No, thanks," Johnny answered as he eased himself into a chair in front of the desk. He really just wanted to get this over with.

The man sat down and picked up a file folder. Johnny noticed his name on the tab. He could immediately feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck.

"I've spoken with the head of communications operations," he told Johnny after opening the file folder, "And they've agreed to have you reassigned to dispatch, if that is acceptable to you."

Johnny let out a quiet sigh of relief. Even though he had been reasonably sure that was where he would be reassigned, he couldn't help the nagging feeling that it would somehow fall through. "Yeah, sure, that's fine with me. Would rather keep working where I can."

"Excellent," the man smiled, "Then let's work out a training schedule for you. Once you've completed training, you'll be given your permanent assignment."

As the discussion progressed, it was clear that this would be another long process. Training for a month, then, if all went well, a permanent assignment. Still, Johnny was relieved that he'd have a job to return to. That particular 'what-if' was no longer hanging over his head.

Once the meeting was over, the man stood and extended his hand to Johnny. "Welcome back to the department. Let us know if you need any additional assistance."

"Will do," Johnny answered, extending his own hand and gripping the other man's hand tightly before releasing it and leaving the office. Now that the meeting was over, he could check out the spot where his socket was rubbing.

He found a bathroom and ducked into a stall, pulling down his jeans to examine the spot. It wasn't bleeding, but it was definitely red from irritation. The sock had slipped down, no surprise given all the walking he'd been doing today.

At least nothing was busted open. This was easy enough to deal with by comparison. He tugged the sock so that it covered the irritated spot and made an adjustment so that his limb fit a little better in the socket. It would do until he got home.

He left the bathroom and nodded to the desk clerk on his way out of the building, walking toward the bus stop just in time to see the bus pull up. Out of habit, he started to break into a run before his body reminded him of his limitations, sending him tumbling to the concrete.

"Hey, hey, you okay there?" a voice called out to him.

"Yeah, fine," Johnny called back as he slowly managed to get himself back up. He'd scraped up his hands pretty good, the blood streaking across his palms. If he hadn't been wearing jeans, he probably would have done a number on his knees, too.

Knee. One knee. Johnny still couldn't break that habit yet.

He leaned on his cane heavily for a long moment, collecting himself. His hands stung, for sure, but his pride stung more. Was this how things were going to be, a non-stop series of people taking pity on him when he inevitably took a tumble?

"You're sure you're okay?" the same voice called out, closer now.

"Positive," Johnny replied firmly, "Just, uh, was trying to catch the bus."

The man who had approached him nodded before going on his way, and Johnny realized they were both headed toward the bus stop. He was already seated on the bench when Johnny took up a spot next to him.

He glanced at Johnny's hands. "Hope you aren't too far from home."

"Uh, not that far," Johnny tried to sound casual, "And anyway, I can fix myself up. It's not that bad."

"Those sidewalks can be tricky," the man told him, "Tell you what, I've tripped myself up more than a time or two. Got the scars to prove it."

Johnny couldn't help laughing. "Yeah, well, in my case, I kinda forgot I couldn't just take off running like I used to."

He pulled up his jeans leg, and the other man nodded in understanding. "That's rough, son."

Johnny shrugged. "Been a few months. I'm getting used to it. Just getting ready to go back to work, actually."

"You don't say?" the man smiled.

"Yeah," Johnny continued, "Just doing dispatch for the county fire department. I was a firefighter-paramedic, but I can't do that now."

"Well, I must say, you seem to be taking it well," the man noted, "Most guys, they might just give up."

The bus pulled up, stopping with a hiss, and the man rose to his feet. "Well, suppose our ride's here."

Johnny followed him on to the bus and found himself a seat. A few stops later, the man rose from his seat, patting him on the shoulder as he passed by. "Good luck to you, young man."

"Thanks." Johnny was oddly touched by the man's words.

He glanced down at his hands. The blood had dried, and now that he examined them more closely, it didn't look nearly as bad as it had at first.

There was probably a message in there somewhere, but Johnny didn't feel the need to think about it that hard.

Johnny let his mind wander as the bus continued its journey down to the transfer point, and he once again got off and found the bus that would take him home. This time around it was a little easier, and he chided himself for worrying so much earlier. He could manage this. People did it every day.

By the time he returned home, he was worn out enough that he was considering a nap, and he nearly scolded himself for that, too. If one bus trip was enough to wear him out, was he really ready to return to full-time work? And he was considering going back to school on top of that?

"Ridiculous," he told himself as he settled in on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. No, he was tough. He could handle this. It would just take time. At least, that's what he'd keep telling himself.