"Good, good," Jack told Johnny approvingly, "Looks like you're really getting the hang of that thing."

Johnny made his way down from the parallel bars and eased himself into a chair. "Yeah, guess I'm getting used to it. Still kinda tough going up and down stairs with it."

"We can work on that," Jack replied, "What part of it's giving you trouble?"

"I don't know," Johnny answered, "Kinda hard to explain. Maybe it's just the weight of it? It's just harder in some ways."

"The weight definitely makes a difference," Jack agreed, "Are you keeping up your physical therapy and your exercises?"

Johnny nodded. "Yeah. Just trying to live as normally as I can. Hard to make this feel normal, though."

"A lot of it's a matter of perspective," Jack reminded him, "You've come a long way in a year. Remember when you could barely do anything without wearing yourself out? Now look at you."

"I guess," Johnny acknowledged, "Mostly I don't think about that much. My memory's kinda fuzzy."

Jack nodded. "That's understandable. You had a lot to learn and adapt to. Looks to me you've adapted pretty successfully."

The sound of the door opening caught both men's attention, and another man came in, one Johnny couldn't remember meeting before. Hell, he looked more like a kid, tall and gangly with shaggy blond hair. "Hi. Hope I'm not interrupting."

"Not at all," Jack replied, rising to greet the other man with a firm handshake before turning back to Johnny, "John, this is Keith. He helps run our aquatics program. He'll get you started in the pool."

Johnny took a deep breath and exhaled, almost kicking himself for agreeing to this. Instead, he rose from the chair and extended a hand. "Nice to meet you."

Keith smiled broadly as he gripped Johnny's hand. "Nice to meet you, too. Jack's told me a lot about you."

"Then you already know I'm not exactly a fan of the water," Johnny responded.

Keith laughed briefly. "He did. But the pool is a lot different from what you're used to. It's a more controlled environment."

"I'll take your word for it," Johnny shot back, still a little apprehensive about the whole thing.

Jack clapped him on the shoulder. "You're going to do great. Hell, you might end up enjoying it."

Johnny shot him what he hoped was a withering look before leaving the therapy room with Keith. "I'm not going to work you too hard today. I mostly want you to get acquainted with the pool before we really develop an exercise program for you. A lot of that's going to depend on your swimming ability and your comfort level. Here's the locker room. Go ahead and get changed, and I'll meet you out on the pool deck. You can wear your prosthetic out there. You'll just take it off before you get in the water."

"Got it," Johnny nodded as he went into the locker room. It had been ages since he'd seen the inside of a locker room like this, probably at least since the fire academy.

Boy, did that ever seem like a long time ago now.

He found a locker and eased himself on to the bench to start changing, observing the activity around him. It was just like any other locker room, he supposed, except for the way it was set up to accommodate all kinds of disabilities. In just the few minutes he'd been in here, he'd seen a couple of guys in wheelchairs, another one missing most of an arm, and another on crutches.

It was one of the few places he fit in these days, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Once he got changed, he made his way toward the pool deck, ever mindful of where he placed his right foot. God help him if he slipped and went down. He wasn't sure he'd ever recover from the humiliation.

"John!" Keith called out from one of the lanes, and Johnny made his way over to join him.

Keith greeted him with that same broad smile. "You can leave your cane and your prosthetic next to the starting block. Don't worry, you're not going to jump off it. That's for the competitive swimmers."

Johnny was momentarily baffled. "People here swim competitively? Like, on a team?"

"Sure do," Keith nodded, "Swimming's a great adaptive sport. You'd be surprised. The competition gets pretty fierce. If you're interested in that kind of thing, that's certainly something we can work toward. But let's get you started with some basics."

"Sure," Johnny agreed as he sat on the starting block and took off his prosthetic, propping it up against the block before carefully making his way toward the edge of the pool.

"Go ahead and slide in," Keith instructed him, "You'll be able to touch bottom."

Johnny did so with some apprehension. It felt strange to only touch the bottom of the pool with one foot, but otherwise this wasn't so bad.

"Good, good," Keith told him, "Now, what's your skill level?"

"Well, I can probably get from one end to the other," Johnny replied, "When I did water rescues, I usually had to swim back dragging the victim."

"Sounds like some pretty rough circumstances," Keith answered, "You probably won't have to worry about that sort of thing here. We'll start with a basic crawl stroke and see how you do. Just take your time and do one full lap, okay?"

Keith explained in greater detail about breathing and stroke technique, and it all sounded a little much to Johnny. It was just swimming. Surely it wasn't that difficult.

He started off, almost immediately realizing why Keith had explained breathing and stroke technique in such detail. It was an awful lot to remember, and Johnny found himself unexpectedly struggling to keep from inhaling the pool water.

Finally, he reached the other end of the pool, resting his arms on the pool edge while he tried to catch his breath. This was a hell of a lot harder than he'd bargained for, and he found himself wondering just what he'd gotten himself into.

"John?" Keith called out, "Are you okay?"

Johnny managed a nod and a wave, finally managing to catch his breath. He was in the deep end of the pool, so he couldn't touch bottom. That was unnerving, to say the least.

Well, there was only one way for him to get back to the other end. He turned around and started back, a little more slowly this time. He felt a little less like he was going to inhale a bunch of water, and he felt a little more in control as he made his way back.

Keith was waiting for him when he emerged, squatting down near the edge of the pool. "Doing okay?"

Johnny pushed back his hair and wiped his face with his hand. He was still a little out of breath, but not as badly as he had been at the other end. "Yeah, I think so. Didn't drown."

Keith let out a short laugh. "You sure didn't. Do you feel up for another lap?"

Johnny debated with himself for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Good," Keith nodded approvingly, "Just take your time, remember to breathe. Try to sync your breathing with your strokes. It gets easier, I promise."

Johnny was a little skeptical but nodded and started another lap. This wasn't so bad. If he let his mind wander a little, he almost didn't notice his missing leg. It was somewhat freeing in a strange way. Maybe there was something to this.

By the time he finished the lap, he was starting to wonder why he had resisted this so much. He felt surprisingly good, enough that he wanted to keep going.

Finally, as he was starting to wear down, he paused and rested his arms on the edge of the pool to catch his breath. Keith was right there waiting, squatting down to meet him. "I think that's enough for today. Come on out."

"In a minute," Johnny answered. Truthfully, he wasn't entirely sure he was going to be able to push himself out.

"There's a ladder if you need it," Keith pointed out.

Johnny shook his head. "I'll be okay. Just need to catch my breath."

Keith nodded in understanding. "It's harder than it looks. Water provides a lot of resistance."

Finally, Johnny braced himself against the edge of the pool and pushed himself out, using his right leg for leverage out of habit. The feeling of his stump against the concrete caught him by surprise, but he quickly shifted his weight to his left knee before shifting to sit on the edge of the pool, letting his foot dangle in the water.

He sat for a long moment, watching as others swam laps. Some moved smoothly through the water, flipping over at the end and returning, over and over. Others were obviously struggling a little, pausing at each end of the pool before continuing.

In a way, they were all in this together, he supposed. There was something oddly comforting about that.

"Whenever you're ready, we can meet in my office and put together a more structured program," Keith offered, breaking Johnny out of his thoughts.

Johnny thought about that for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Good," Keith seemed pleased, "If you don't need anything from me, I'll see you in a bit."

Johnny glanced at his prosthetic that was still propped up against the block. "No, I think I'm okay."

Keith nodded and left, and Johnny scooted over to the block, grasping it and pushing himself up, wobbling slightly as he found his balance before sitting on the block to strap his prosthetic back on. It was a stark reminder of how much had changed for him, and he still couldn't say he had exactly embraced that change.

This was his reality now, had been for almost a year. Every time he thought he had learned to live with this, something else came along to remind him that there was still a lot to learn.

Maybe he wouldn't be able to do everything he used to do. But those few moments in the pool made him consider the possibility that he could do other things, other things where a missing limb didn't limit him.

He shook his head at the unexpectedly deep thought and pushed himself off the block before carefully making his way back to the locker room.

After changing, he met Keith in the small office and closed the door behind him. Keith greeted him with a smile and a quick nod. "Have a seat."

Johnny eased himself into the chair, already apprehensive of what Keith might have in store for him. Keith seemed to sense that apprehension and responded with a quiet laugh. "Don't worry, I'm not going to be too hard on you. I've put together a basic fitness program along with some stroke development. If you decide you want to go beyond that, we can make adjustments."

Johnny took the paper from Keith and looked it over. If he was reading it correctly, it wasn't much different from the way his track workouts had been written back in high school. "So, you know I work in dispatch for the county fire department, right?"

Keith nodded. "Right. These days aren't written in stone. You can arrange them to fit your work schedule."

"I'm planning on going back to school, too," Johnny told him, "Just community college, and probably just a class or two."

"Okay, we can make this work around that," Keith answered, "Again, it's got some flexibility built into it. However, if you're not interested, that's okay too. But it did seem like you were starting to warm up to the idea."

Johnny let out a huff as he folded up the paper. As much as he hated to admit it, Keith was right. It was his own reluctance he needed to overcome.

"Listen, it's a skill like anything else," Keith pointed out, "And just like anything else, the more you do it, the better you'll get at it. And if you need some extra guidance, I'm here."

Johnny couldn't help smiling a little at that. "Alright. I'll figure out how to make it fit."

Keith beamed in response. "That's what I like to hear. Anything else you need to talk about while you're here?"

Johnny shook his head. "Think I'm all set. Thanks."

With that, Johnny rose from the chair and tucked the folded piece of paper in his shirt pocket, slinging his bag over his shoulder and making his way out to the lobby.

Johnny crossed to where Chet was sitting on a bench flipping through a magazine, and he looked up as Johnny approached. "Man, you smell like someone dumped a bottle of bleach on you."

"Very funny, Chet," Johnny huffed.

"Ah, I didn't mean anything by it," Chet answered dismissively, "How'd it go?"

"Not bad, I guess," Johnny replied as they headed out to Chet's car, "He's already got a plan figured out for me. Did you know folks do this competitively?"

Chet looked slightly surprised. "No, guess I didn't. That'd sure be something, considering how much you hate the water."

"Oh, I never said I was gonna do it," Johnny quickly responded, "Just that, you know, other folks do."

Chet let out a short laugh as they climbed in and Chet started up the car. "But you're thinking about it."

"Nah," Johnny scoffed, even as he knew Chet was right, "I'm gonna be awfully busy. You know, working, going to school, all that stuff."

"You?" Chet's tone was incredulous, "You're going to school? What for?"

"Not sure yet," Johnny answered casually, "Maybe physical or occupational therapy. Figure maybe I can do some good, you know, knowing what it's like to go through some of this stuff."

"Huh, yeah, I guess so," Chet agreed, "And hey, maybe that, uh, friend of yours can help you out."

Johnny felt his face immediately heat up. The last thing he wanted to talk about was anything related to Mary Lynn. "We are just friends. That's it."

"That's what I said," Chet shot back, "So what, dispatch isn't working out for you?"

"It's okay," Johnny told him, "Not sure I wanna stay there for the rest of my life."

"Yeah, I get that," Chet replied, "Seems like it'd get pretty boring."

"Not that, exactly," Johnny explained, "It's just…well, not where I thought I'd be, you know? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to have a job, but it sure as hell isn't what I wanna do for the rest of my life. Don't know if I'm college material either, but I guess I'll find out."

Chet gave him a sideways glance. "Johnny, you're plenty smart. You wouldn't have made it as a paramedic if you weren't."

Johnny didn't have it in him to argue about that, and so he let Chet's words pass. Eventually they moved on to other topics, with Chet bringing him up to date on everything that was going on around the station as he drove.

Chet pulled into the grocery store parking lot and found a spot near the store. "You want company?"

"Sure," Johnny answered.

They made their way into the store, and Johnny grabbed a cart and hooked his cane over the handle. He had his usual list, along with some extras planned so that he could make something for him and Mary Lynn once they got back from their hike. Surprisingly, when he had casually mentioned the idea while they were planning the day, she had agreed.

Maybe he should have just told Chet to stay in the car. He would definitely notice and he was sure to say something.

As they went through the store, Chet kept up a steady stream of conversation, seeming to have gotten the message that Johnny didn't want to talk about Mary Lynn. He had to admit, it was good to hear about the goings-on at the station, even if it was a little painful to realize that life had gone on without him. But why wouldn't it? Life went on, and they had a job to do.

It was only when they got to the checkout and they started unloading that Chet finally said something. "You got something special planned?"

"Just gonna make me and Mary Lynn some dinner once we get back from our hike," Johnny tried to sound as casual as he could, "No big deal."

Chet's eyebrows shot up. "If you say so."

Johnny let out a huff. "Look, nothing's going on. It's just dinner for a friend, that's it."

Chet merely shrugged. "Listen, you like her, and she seems to like you for whatever reason. Nothing wrong with seeing if something more comes out of it."

"Believe it or not, Chet, that's not my plan," Johnny answered sharply as he paid the cashier and waited for the bagger to load the bags back into the cart.

"Huh," Chet commented, "You really have changed."

"I didn't change," Johnny shot back, "This, well, it changed everything. Things are a lot different now."

"So what, that means you can't still chase chicks?" Chet countered, "Come on, that's not the Johnny Gage I know."

They headed back out to the parking lot and unloaded the cart, and Johnny rolled it into the cart corral before grabbing his cane and returning to Chet's car. No sooner had he climbed in than Chet started in on him again. "I'm serious, Johnny—"

"So am I," Johnny cut him off, "I'm not trying to make anything happen with Mary Lynn. Drop it."

"Fine," Chet replied with a shrug, "But when you two get together, don't say I didn't tell you so."

Johnny merely shook his head and stared out the window while Chet drove, and soon they were back at Johnny's place.

"You want a hand?" Chet offered.

"Sure," Johnny agreed.

Johnny took one bag while Chet took the others, and they started up the stairs. It was getting a little easier, though Johnny still found it a little difficult to balance everything while paying attention to where he was placing his prosthetic.

Finally, they made their way up the stairs, and Johnny managed to dig his keys out to unlock the door. Chet followed close behind and set the bag he was carrying next to the bag Johnny had set on the counter.

"Man, I don't know how you do it," Chet commented as he leaned against the counter.

"What do you mean?" Johnny asked as he started putting his groceries away.

"I mean…" Chet gestured broadly, "Getting around and just…well, it's a lot to think about, right?"

Johnny shrugged. "Took a hell of a lot of work. I guess I've gotten mostly used to it now. Don't have much of a choice."

"No, I guess not," Chet answered as he unloaded one of the bags, "I guess it beats the alternative, huh?"

Johnny paused for a moment. "Yeah, guess it does."

Chet fell silent for a moment, though it was obvious to Johnny that he had something on his mind. He decided not to press him on it, continuing to put everything away.

Once that was done, Chet still seemed reluctant to leave, and Johnny let out a short huff. "Hey, you have somewhere you need to be?"

Chet seemed surprised, shaking his head. "No, not really."

"You wanna hang out for a while?" Johnny asked, "We could order a pizza, I don't know, maybe play some cards or…wait. You ever play dominoes?"

Chet's eyebrows shot straight up. "Dominoes?"

"Yeah," Johnny replied, "Friend of mine in rehab taught me to play. He moved back to Detroit, but he gave me a set of dominoes before he left. Haven't had a chance to play anyone."

Chet nodded in agreement. "Sure, I'm game. If you wanna call for pizza, I'll go pick it up."

Johnny made the call and tried to give Chet money for the pizza, only to be met with a firm refusal. While Chet was gone, Johnny found the domino set that Ron had given him and cleared off his coffee table to set up a spot to play.

Before long, Chet returned, not only with a pizza, but with a six-pack as well. With beer and pizza in hand, they returned to the living room, where Johnny explained the rules while he shuffled the tiles. Soon they were off and running, falling into their old pattern of giving each other grief as they played.

There was something about this that felt like old times, when they would give each other grief and play pranks on each other, much to the chagrin of their station mates. Johnny had to admit he missed that, almost as much as he missed the job itself.

But times had changed, and Johnny had started to come to accept that. He also realized how much he had started to isolate himself as so much of his time had been consumed with recovery and everything that had come with it. Now that he was more or less past that time of his life, maybe it was time to make a real effort to keep his old friends a little closer.

"Man, this was a good time," Chet told him after most of the beer and pizza had been consumed, "We've gotta do this more often."

"Yeah, we should," Johnny responded, slowly rising to his feet, "I wouldn't mind cleaning your clock again."

"Ha, ha," Chet scoffed before pushing himself off the couch and digging around for his keys, "I'll see you around. You'll have to let me know how things go with Mary Lynn."

"You'll be the last one to know," Johnny couldn't help shooting back.

Chet merely laughed. "Yeah right. You'll be busting to tell someone all about it. And I'll be there to hear it."

"Good night, Chet," Johnny all but pushed him toward the door.

"Fine, fine, I'm going," Chet responded, the door soon closing behind him.

Johnny leaned against the door for a moment before taking his time cleaning up. He couldn't help but feel a little anxious about how things with Mary Lynn would go. Maybe he was hoping for too much.

Well, what was the worst that could happen? After all, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

One way or another it would be fine. At least, Johnny hoped so.