Author's notes: Well, here we are at the end of the story. I'm sure there were medical inaccuracies and other mistakes but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Thanks for all the kind reviews and PM's. They are very appreciated.

XXXX

The courtroom was packed. April sat in the prisoner's docket in a perfect imitation of June Clever from Leave it to Beaver. Her fingers were polished, her hair swept up and a three-piece skirt set made up her wardrobe along with a pair of low-heeled pumps. She looked every bit the picture of the girl next door.

April began by admitting everything her plea bargain couldn't save her from, sounding scared and apologetic, claiming she'd been forced into a life in this business through intimidation and duress. A few tears fell, delicately wiped away by a white handkerchief.

"Once I realized that I'd been recruited by criminals, I tried to get out, even getting a job at Rampart so I could do some good with the healing gifts I was given in nursing school where I was an honor graduate. I was threatened with death if I didn't provide certain information to my other employer. I had no idea that the information I provided would contribute to the death of so many." … sniffle-dab-tears-wipe-repeat …

"Mr. Gage was a patient I met at Rampart. I'd been warned about him several times from the other nurses that he'd likely be all over me and he was. Why, I was only in his treatment room for a minute when he pinched me, you know, on the behind. I was so shocked I was going to report it but it became clear to me that Mr. Gage is friends with most of the staff at Rampart and I was scared I'd lose my job…"

"That's a lie!" John shouted. "Within a minute of her coming into the room at Rampart she stuck me with a needle and took my blood when it wasn't ordered by my doctor! I never touched her!"

The gavel banged and before John even knew what was happening he found himself face-to-face with both of Roy's hands on his shoulders and Stoker standing behind him.

"Johnny, listen, you've got to calm down. The D.A. told you April would do all this. Unfortunately she's allowed to speak and if you try to speak over her before it's your turn, you're going to get kicked out. We believe you. Of course we do. And you'll see, so does everyone else, but you've got to keep quiet. I promise I'll buy you a bullhorn and drive you up into the echoing cavern on ridge road and you can scream it for all of L.A. tomorrow. Just for now … you have no choice."

The judge looked to Roy and Stoker, not John to see if they could keep him contained. Roy nodded and took a seat beside John this time while Stoker took Roy's seat behind Gage.

"This is all so upsetting," April sniffled. "Anyway, as I was saying, Mr. Gage asked me out. I said no. I had no idea I'd be meeting him again at my other job."

Gage closed his eyes and bit his tongue. She'd sold his blood to them!

"I was told to extract a blood sample from patient fifty-one as he was known there. I did so. I planned to mail the blood to the police to prove it was the blood of one of the folks they were looking for so they would take it seriously from amongst all of the other false clues coming in. I was going to put a note in with his blood leading them to the warehouse where I hoped the victims be saved. Blood was the only sample I extracted from patient fifty-one and I'm deeply sorry I was the one whose face he must have seen in his delusional state during any other extractions. Though he acted inappropriately with me at Rampart I never wished him harm nor would I touch him in that way."

April answered a few more questions from her lawyer, sipped water delicately from a glass on the wooden docket and went back to her lies. Gage kept waiting for lightning to strike but it never happened.

"Patient thirty-six, well you know college boys. I'm deeply sorry for the trauma he must have suffered but it was not at my hands. At that age they like to brag and with me being a nurse and all and a little older, I figure he had to face this humiliation by saying it happened by a … well, I'm not bragging you understand, but well, a pretty woman. Some of the other staff members were less, well, you might say, not very attractive actually. And truth be told? There have been extractions of that type perpetrated by some of the female patients promised by Dr. R. that if they succeeded, they would be set free. Perhaps since patient thirty-six bonded with the other captives of his own age group, he isn't willing to admit that one of them would betray him like that. So, again, I'm not saying it did not happen, the evidence speaks for itself but I am willing to pay my dues for the crimes I committed and that will haunt me for the rest of my life but please members of the jury, I did not assault either of these gentlemen."

Shea actually banged his head on the desk in front of him hard enough it reverberated against the heavy wooden walls. All eyes turned to him and John was sure the bronze statue of Justice, blindfolded and weighing her options could see him through her blindfold.

The gavel sounded in warning and Shea's girlfriend gripped his hand. The two teenage girls and the one teenage boy who'd been with Shea at the compound sat behind him, both girls drained of all color at the accusation the pit viper in the docket levied against them. They had done all they could to save Shea's life and now they were being accused of cowardice and turning against their fellow prisoner?

John swallowed hard. April was a master at her craft. If there was even the shadow of the doubt amongst the jury members, April would serve her time for aggravated assault and walk free in two years less a day. The girls behind Shea cried on each other's shoulders as the boy tried his best to comfort them and himself. The judge called lunch.

"Shea, are you okay?" one of the girls from the compound asked, running to him and putting her arms around him. A camera flash captured the moment and a very happy looking reporter took off running. Gage could see the headlines now as sensationalism built around the charismatic murderer. Prisoner Against Prisoner? The publication ban would only prevent that from becoming a reality until the close of the trial and only if the jury saw fit to throw April's lies out and do the right thing. The female former prisoner then hugged Shea's girlfriend in support. Where was the camera for that?

Shea was pale. His father took his arm from the pool of teenage bodies around him and led him to a bench. The boy's breathing was erratic and he stuttered out vehement denials that everyone tried to reassure him he didn't need to waste his breath on.

"What if they don't believe me?" Shea asked his father, finally breaking. He couldn't catch his breath and soon the dark circles clearly indicating lack of sleep seemed to grow darker against his stark white skin. John had learned that Shea was still on a course of antibiotics for the stomach wound that was stubbornly refusing to heal completely. He also knew that the whole in Shea's gut went clear through to his soul because he bore the same hole.

"Roy?" John nodded toward Shea and together they made their way through the small throng of Shea's friends.

"Shea, just take it easy, alright? You're hyperventilating. I want you to lean over and put your head down," Roy instructed in calm, even tones while he gently took a pulse.

"That's it." Roy motioned for a paper sack and Chet jogged off to the cafeteria to get one.

"Is he gonna need an ambulance?" John asked, accepting the bag from Chet and demonstrating to Shea how to breathe into it.

Shea was helped to a reclining position on the bench. John felt his forehead, which was a little warm with dark blond strands of hair clinging to it in a light fever. Shea's blue eyes were wide with fear.

Roy got permission to check his stomach wound and he lifted the shirt from the lean body and gently peeled the bandage away. Angry red skin lined the small incision area that refused to heal.

"Shea, why didn't you …" the boy's father gasped.

"Because I didn't want to … hospitals … I just can't," Shea said desperately. "Can't we just go see Dr. Spencer when this is over?"

"I really think you should go to the hospital, Shea," Roy informed the boy, hating the scared look the statement put on his face.

Shea looked at John wide-eyed.

"I'd be scared too, Shea, and I know the doctors at Rampart well. Tell you what, I'll ride with you in the ambulance. If the D.A. needs us to testify, the judge will have to put it over until you're better anyway. Deal?"

Brice and Bellingham arrived and John spoke quietly to Brice for a minute so that no one said a word when Brice and Gage hopped in the ambulance for the ride to the hospital. The police officer assigned to be Gage's shadow told him he'd follow the ambulance in his cruiser.

Shea stared gloomily at the IV in his arm. "How can she lie like that?"

"Because she faces life in prison. This is her last chance," Gage surmised.

"Yeah, well we already have life sentences," Shea said, looking like he wanted to say more but not in front of Brice.

"I hope not," Gage said quietly.

Brice for his part took vitals and tried to keep occupied and pretend he couldn't hear them, which of course was impossible in such tight quarters but still, it was appreciated.

"I can't believe Cath stays with me…"

"What do you mean?" Gage asked.

"Well …" Shea blushed trailing off. "During training I got my own dorm. Sometimes she'd stay over because we'd fall asleep watching movies or studying for exams. Now I have to make sure she leaves because I … I have nightmares. I don't want to wake her or freak her out …"

John swallowed. Of course he knew all about the nightmares.

"It's normal. It'll go away. I told Dr. Early about mine. I think you met him in the E.R., right?"

"Yeah," Shea said. "He's really nice. Checked on me a few times when I was at Rampart even when I was out of the E.R."

"Well, he says it's the brain's way of figuring out stuff, dealing with stuff. It won't be easy but eventually we'll figure it out. You can talk to someone at Rampart about it you know?"

"Nah, I can talk to you about it 'cause you're the only one who … you know."

"Shea, have to you talked to anyone else about this?"

"No way," Shea said resolutely.

John thanked God for Roy and the guys at that moment. The ambulance bay doors opened and orderlies took Shea into treatment two. Brice didn't say a word when Gage followed him in.

Dr. Early was on, making Shea more comfortable immediately. Brackett came in also since it was a slow day and Shea seemed okay with that too. Shea needed to hear Dr. Brackett reiterate what he'd said about the drug he and Gage were given, that under its influence neither of them stood a chance.

"Not much sleep huh?" Brackett asked sympathetically.

"No," Shea admitted.

Early piggybacked a strong antibiotic into Shea's IV and his wound was cleaned yet again.

"Your body needs rest so you can heal, Shea. You want to be ready for the season in May, right?" Early asked.

"I'm giving it up, doc," Shea said sadly.

"But when your coach was in visiting he said you still had a real shot of turning pro," Brackett said, his arms folded in front of him wearing his famous upshot eyebrow.

"Yeah, and I'll always be known as the player who … I'm going to do something else, something not televised where you have to be in the public eye and all."

Johnny stepped up beside Shea again. "Shea, this is not gonna stick with you. It's not who you are. You were a victim for Pete's sake. Look, I thought about quitting the department for a short time after we were rescued too but then I looked at the guys who saved us, the cops, the fireman, FBI … What kind of thanks is it to them if they risked their lives so we could live if we don't … you know … live? It's kind of a poor way of repaying their sacrifices.

Shea looked about to protest but closed his mouth. "I'll think on it, that's all I can promise for now."

"That's all I can ask," John said. Until now even he hadn't considered the place the police, FBI and rescue people had put themselves in, despite him being a fireman himself.

"Well, listen Shea, doc here says you're gonna be okay. I'm going back to court."

"'Kay, and John, thanks, you know, for what you said."

John and the police officer arrived back in court and John took his seat beside a very relieved looking Roy.

"How's he doing?" Roy asked in a whisper despite a break in testimony.

"Brackett says he's gonna be okay. He thinks maybe Shea's stress over going back to school was holding up his healing."

"That's too bad. Joanne's younger cousin goes to Shea's school and says he was a real star on the basketball team."

The gavel came back down and court was back in session. April's testimony was over and Gage was glad the D.A. felt she'd hung herself out to dry enough that he wouldn't have to take the stand again to refute what she'd said about he and Shea.

Closing arguments were heard and Gage was white knuckled to the arms of his chair throughout. The jury was ordered to debate.

Outside in the hall, Roy handed John some juice. His partner had a tendency to become so distracted by the whole process that he failed to consider his ongoing recuperation. The D.A. approached and shook hands.

"I want to than you for your brave testimony. How's Shea?"

"Physically, he's gonna make a full recovery," John said.

The D.A. shook his head. "Funny how jury's are swayed by the things that are most distracting. I think a few of the members were leaning toward leniency toward April; she was a convincing self-described victim of duress. Shea taking ill during her testimony while not good for him had fortunate timing in that the jurors could see the emotional toll she'd placed on her victims and they believed him."

"He's really sick," John said a little defensively.

The D.A. put his hands up. "I know. And believe me, kid, I believe you. It's just you would not believe how much something like that can sway a case for good or bad."

"I know …" Gage allowed.

John told the D.A. he would not be in court for April's sentencing. If she got off on the charges of the particular type of assault against he and Shea, she would serve her light sentence for aggravated assault on the group as a whole and go on her merry way. If she got off, Shea and Gage would have to figure out a way to live with it; to be called liars officially.

XXXX

Roy and Joanne sat with John at home as he paced the following morning.

"Look, Roy, I think I'm gonna go to Rampart. Shea's waiting on this too, John said of the phone call that was imminent. The jury was ready and within minutes the verdict would be passed and the judgment rendered.

John picked up his keys. Sure, the police officer would drive him to Rampart but he felt the need to be able to be himself.

The keys jangled together in his shaking hands. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Junior, you can't drive right now," Roy said kindly while at the same time snaking the keys from his partner. "I'll take you. You can go in by yourself or whatever you want when we get there … well, you know, you and your shadow," Roy smiled awkwardly at the officer.

John nodded mutely. Joanne smiled in understanding at her husband passing them both their coats.

It was a silent ride to Rampart. Roy drove John's Rover simply because that's where John placed himself in the passenger side. John always felt at peace in his truck, it took him to work but also to the mountains, away from … anywhere.

The Rover pulled up and John sat staring at the entrance.

"You gonna be okay?" Roy asked, worry evident in his tone as the cruiser pulled in behind them.

"Yeah … Sure. Just worried about Shea. He's only nineteen and all …"

"Yeah, and you're so much older Grasshopper," Roy smiled indulgently at Gage. Five whole years. It's okay to be nervous. Hell, I'm nervous."

"Thanks, Roy," John said. He continued to sit there.

"Listen, Roy, I know you got things to do and all, but you wouldn't … come with me?"

Roy blew out a breath.

"I wasn't going anywhere, Johnny. I wouldn't have come in with you unless asked but I sure as hell wasn't leaving you alone. That's not how it works, okay?" Roy got out of the Rover and bumped shoulders with John as they entered Rampart.

Shea's dad and girlfriend sat on either side of him. An untouched breakfast tray sat on the table off to the side.

"Come on, Shea, you gotta eat," Gage said by way of greeting. You told me you were gonna try."

"I will, promise. Just right now it feels like my guts are being pulled out through my belly button. I just want it to be over," Shea said, shaking hands with both paramedics.

"Me too," John swallowed dryly.

Roy left for a minute slipping past the officer in the hall. His hip pressed the large button on the vending machine and ginger ale fell to the bottom with a satisfyingly loud noise to break the quiet. He made his way back into the room slowly to give Shea and his partner a minute to talk.

John took a long sip of the ginger ale and winced as it hit his empty stomach. He was a good one to talk, he hadn't eaten since yesterday's lunch. His hands still shook and when Shea's patient phone line rang, he nearly jumped. Everyone looked at Roy to pick up the phone.

Shea Sullivan's room, Rampart hospital," Roy greeted.

"This is Roy Desoto, Sir," Roy said, mouthing the words 'D.A.' to Shea and John.

Roy sighed deeply and sat down, running his hand over his face. No one knew what to make of it. The ginger ale in Gage's stomach threatened to bubble back up and Shea's already pasty face broke out in a cold sweat. Roy hung up the phone with mumbled thanks.

"She's going away for twenty-five years with no chance of parole for her assault on you and Shea, and that's if she's lucky. The judge is considering the D.A.'s request to have her deemed a dangerous repeat offender coupled with her lesser charges and even without the accessory to murder rap from her plea-bargain he thinks they have a good chance because they were able to add forcible confinement to the individual charges stemming from you and Shea that were separate from her plea-bargain."

Gage wanted to shout that it was great news. He really did. But somehow whatever euphoria he thought he'd feel if they got a conviction, it never came. It restored balance a bit, sure, but it didn't take it away. He felt foolish now thinking that somehow magically he'd feel better, cured even and that Shea would magically get up and be the happy nineteen year old he'd heard described by his dad and friends since they met.

"It's gonna take time," Roy said gently, squeezing John's shoulder.

Shea certainly didn't need an audience for the flood of teary relief that took hold from the verdict. John and Roy told his dad they'd come back tomorrow.

XXXX

John stepped outside and looked up to the sun, squinting. Spring was coming. Maybe his heart would thaw with it.

John forced himself to eat a bit of supper. Jennifer squeezed chocolate into his glass of white milk at the supper table, something that wasn't usually done. Joanne smiled at her daughter as she dutifully put the chocolate away, leaving her own and Chris's white.

"I think we should all have chocolate milk with dinner," Joanne said as Jennifer gladly got the chocolate out again and proceeded to stir loudly in everyone's glass.

After dinner, a knock came to the door. Bruce's girlfriend stood on the porch.

"Tracy, it's good to see you," John said, stepping out and hugging the young woman.

"I heard the news. It's over … I guess."

Tracy looked completely lost as John pulled her away and held onto her shoulders so he could look her in the eyes. The last time he'd seen her he wasn't a victim of Bruce's murderer and from this side of things it was much worse. The survivor's guilt spiked.

Roy looked out the window, trying not to intrude but wanting to keep an eye on his young partner. He knew the dam would burst, just not when.

"Look, I wasn't going to come over, but I found myself at your apartment door and your landlady said you were staying with Roy and … I'm so sorry I never came and saw you at the hospital, Johnny. I just didn't know what to say to you, I mean what does a person say to that without sounding terrible, I'm glad you made it, I wish it could've been sooner so Bruce …"

Roy watched John's back stiffen, his slight recoil as if he'd been slapped. His face was pained.

"It's not how I meant it, see what I mean? I really did come to check on you, Bruce really admired you and Roy, you were the ones that made him see that transferring would be good for his health … See? Awkward no matter what I say …"

"Tracy, look at me," John said, tilting the distraught young woman's face toward his. "This wasn't your fault either. I know what you're trying to say, believe me, I do. I don't know why I made it out and Bruce didn't. Hell I didn't think I'd make it. When I woke up at Rampart no one was more surprised than I was."

"I know. I phoned every day and talked to Ms. McCall. She tried to coax me to come see you but I just couldn't. Once you were off the respirator I made it all the way to the hallway your room was in, even checked in with the police at your door but all I could think of was Bruce and … I was afraid I couldn't look at you without seeing…"

"That's why I haven't been able to go to his grave," Gage confessed.

"It's nice … well, you know what I mean, with the trees and all and birds are starting to nest for spring. It's peaceful."

Gage had pictured the grave, had nightmares about it too only in his dreams the grave was a pile of mud mounded up in an empty, desolate field. In his nightmares, his own grave joined Bruce's and dozens, maybe hundreds of others.

"I think you should go … when you're ready," Tracy told him.

John nodded in a non-committal sort of way looking kind of like a deer in the headlights. Roy couldn't watch anymore.

"Tracy, good to see you, why don't you come in for a cup of coffee?" Roy invited opening the door and peering out.

Tracy looked about to turn down the offer when Gage steered her into the house. She stayed for an hour and the conversation strayed to and from the kidnappings. John tried to put himself in Bruce's girlfriend's shoes. It was only natural she would want to know what happened to him so she could reckon it with her own perceived notions of what Bruce had been through.

The question hung in the air but was never asked so Gage answered it as truthfully as he could.

"I don't know if Bruce … Um, one of the …" What did he call April Seaquest now? Staff? Kidnapper? "Well, a woman who worked there, she ah, she … liked to talk … brag you know? She did mention something about another fireman and as far as we know Bruce and I were the only ones."

John looked desperately at Roy. April knew from the papers the kind of operation the compound had been and what organs and other materials were harvested. Gage was alive and intact as far as organs were concerned so the natural conclusion was the right conclusion. Tracy was a smart woman.

"I'm not here to pry, honest. God, John I can't imagine … I'm so sorry. I just wondered if Bruce …"

Roy took up the conversation with nodded permission from John who found himself unable to speak. There was a reason the court case didn't begin to end the suffering of some victims.

"There's still evidence at the compound, which is under FBI lock-down. John and Shea that you read about in the newspapers are the only known living victims of …" Roy looked over to John who was looking distinctively green.

"Johnny, you want me to?"

John nodded as Joanne put a cold glass of water in his hands, which he fiddled with, looking anywhere, but at Tracy.

"John and Shea have to sign papers for the destruction of … evidence, which will be carried out once the court determines whether anyone can appeal their charges."

"And what of the murdered victims?" Tracy said shrilly, wholly unintentionally causing John's jaw muscles to jump beneath the skin.

"I don't know…"

"Well, I do," Tracy said cryptically. "You were patient fifty-one, that boy Shea was thirty six based on his basketball jersey number so that would mean, if they were that stupid, then Bruce would be … well he was transferring out so he didn't have a steady department anymore so … who would speak for him if …"

Gage was tired of admitting he didn't know anything. For his part, he wanted the evidence destroyed. Shea told him likewise. If it was up to him the evidence would be gone already. As it was, this part of the investigation could be tied up for a year. Cryogenic technology was experimental and new and the techniques employed at the compound were said to be leaps and bounds further along than previously thought possible.

"The paper said there were eyes in that lab too," Tracy shuddered.

Gage subconsciously felt his palms smoosh into his own sockets, grateful his body was intact. The resulting blurriness assured him his eyes were truly there.

"I'm sorry, John. I know how this all sounds to you. It's just that it's the not knowing that keeps me up at night. Something's nagging at me, like Bruce doesn't have peace."

John's stomach squirmed, images from his perception of what Bruce's grave looked like assaulting him again despite having been reassured that it was a place of tranquility as it should be. He felt like there was a ghost among them and he wasn't the only one.

Tracy accepted another cup of coffee. Small talk was made and nothing was resolved because it was out of their hands. The system worked as fast as molasses flowing uphill on a cold day.

That could be changed.

XXXX

John's nightmares were worse tonight than they'd been since the ordeal began. Roy placed a cold cloth on his friend's forehead to quell the headache brought on by the screams that were ripped from him. Bruce wasn't free and he wouldn't be until the people that loved him were free.

Three weeks later the D.A. called to inform them that all appeals had been turned down and April Seaquest was registered as a dangerous offender and would spend the rest of her life in jail. It was the right news, but it wasn't enough.

The police assignment for John and Shea were dismissed. Roy tried to get John to stay with his family a little while longer but John wouldn't be swayed. He had to stand on his own two feet and now was as good a time as any. Besides, how good was it for his niece and nephew to hear his screaming every night?

Tracy and John spoke on the phone a few times. Tracy told him she petitioned for the right to find out if Bruce had been similarly harvested like John and Shea. John's best guess, based on April's bragging was, yes. She heard back a week later that based on a number on a chamber at the compound, being fourteen, Bruce's last known station and matching blood types, it was highly likely but not definitive that Bruce had been harvested.

John drove to Tracy and Bruce's apartment. Things were still packed in boxes like Bruce was alive and ready to move to Colorado even though Tracy was staying in L.A. under the circumstances.

"I'm so sorry, Tracy," John said, holding her while she cried.

"So many thoughts are going through my mind, you have no idea…"

"I do," John said, his eyes speaking of truth and pain.

"We talked about kids you know? I wanted three and he wanted two so we joked that we'd have to two point five like the national average." Tracy smiled at that recollection.

"What about you, John. Ever think about having kids?"

"Yeah, but Roy says I have to find a girl first," John smiled ruefully, recalling how Roy finally took him seriously when he'd talked of settling down to have kids.

"You will, someday," Tracy said.

Neither of them could talk about why the talk of children came up. It was the big elephant showing its head again.

"The technology is too new for that stuff to work. The paper said it's years away from becoming a reality," Tracy said.

"Didn't stop someone from buyin'" Gage said bitterly. "And for as long as it exists I'm gonna have to wonder … worry. I know it's stupid. It can't be done … yet. But the fact they were willing to do that to me … to others and experiment … What if they get it right by some miracle before John's Hopkins University that's working on it, albeit from willing donors? What if there's another branch out there that no one knows about? What if …"

"Exactly," Tracy said her tone of definitiveness suggested to Gage that she had something serious on her mind. "You're suffering. I talked to Roy the other day. You're due back at work on the twenty- sixth and you're two pounds under the departmental regulation. He said they're willing to overlook two pounds but John you know they're not gonna overlook more and Roy's worried about you. I'm worried about you. This is quite literally eating you alive."

He couldn't deny it. It hung over Shea's head too. The young basketball star didn't sign up for the spring session at college at all.

"We have to do something. For you, Shea and for Bruce," Tracy said.

"But what?"

XXXX

John and Tracy pulled up to the pier on a Friday night. Yellow police tape still flapped uselessly in the breeze. The place was forgotten now that the media frenzy was over and while the place was under rather sophisticated alarm systems and drive by security, there were no police guards like there was only weeks ago.

John had spent years watching Chet and Stoker cut power to buildings. No one would return here until Monday morning at the earliest. The Rover was parked by a local fish market that was closed for the weekend and Tracy and John walked the distance to the compound. Gage's leaden feet were clumsy, his throat dry. Tracy placed her hand on his back for support. The wire cutters felt good in his hands. It was nothing for him to scale the side of the one floor, high ceiling former factory.

The heavy wire cutters poised over the electrical wire. John paused, Tracy looking up at him as if afraid he'd changed his mind. John gulped; the wire cutters found their marks again and again as he carefully plunged the building into darkness. The whirring blades of the cooling units silenced, the hum of electrical energy buzzing along salt-water dampened lines ceased. The sudden quiet was both welcome and eerie as a breeze blew the wind back from his face whispering a thankful goodbye. Now it was over, when they said it was, not when someone told them it was. It didn't work that way. The samples and eyes would begin to degrade and decompose upon thawing.

Tracy went back to sit in the Rover while John scaled back down the wall. He stared at the prison and his life passed before his eyes as if he was dying though this mission was to give him his life back. He was always bragging that he was single, unencumbered by marriage. What if he never married? Never had kids? It was stupid really, test tube babies were years away if ever and he never wanted to be a father without knowing it but something stirred in his gut just the same as he walked away from the building without looking back.

XXXX

John sat sipping coffee in Roy's living room a day before he was to return to work. Roy looked at him over the newspaper.

"Did you see this?" he asked but his tone clearly asked did you do this?

The headline announced a power outage at the facility that wasn't discovered until late Monday morning. The FBI wouldn't admit that the power had been deliberately cut. All remaining cryogenic evidence was destroyed in the thaw.

"I slept peacefully through the night for the first time last night," Gage whispered cryptically, waiting for the comprehension of his words to spur what they would.

"I'm glad, Junior. You okay?" Roy said back, intense concern on his face with no judgment at all.

"I will be."

XXXX

John drove home from Roy's after supper. The sun was setting, not a great time for visiting a cemetery but the final leg of his journey hadn't been achieved yet. He pulled into the long drive and spotted the plot number signs and followed them on foot. Birds were settling in for the night. It was a place of calm and peace.

Bruce's stone had carved designs of his badge and underneath were the words, not to dwell.

John found himself talking to the sky, not the stone, which was a marked improvement in his psyche. Until last Friday, he felt like Bruce dwelt all around him, around Tracy and fire trucks … and there, at the compound. He was free now.

John checked his watch and stopped by Shea's parent's place to see him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Gage, Shea moved back to his dorm last week but he left these for you. I was going to mail them to you but since you're here …" Mrs. Sullivan handed John six tickets to Shea's very first college basketball game back.

"He brought these over Monday afternoon. His coach said he's going to have to train hard to get back up to where he was but Shea's up for it. Something changed in him since Monday, like a switch was pushed … or cut." Shea's dad looked at Gage with gratitude.

"Yeah, a switch," Gage repeated, remembering the distinct feel of the wires dying out in his gloved grip.

XXXX

Coffee permeated the air in Station fifty-one before roll call. Smokey the Bear greeted John like he did every shift as John changed into his uniform. The new material was scratchier than his well-worn uniform but the guys had thought enough to order him one since his last one was god knew where. Sure, he had others but there was something about being in a new uniform for new beginnings.

The phantom was distinctly absent today as Chet handed John his new helmet as his old one was still likely sitting in a basement of some crime lab. John peered into the shallow depths of the black plastic, feeling around with his finger for itching powder or hair dye or some other nefarious product. It was clean.

Cap doled out chores during roll call and while John went to work on the dorms, he took Roy aside.

"I know John's cleared for duty, and I don't have to ask you to watch out for him … but, watch out for him, okay?" Cap said.

"Will, do Cap, always," Roy replied as he went to help John strip the beds.

John's hands touched everything in the dorm as if trying to remember them. It might have been only months since his last time here but it felt like years. He'd only stripped three beds before Cap was calling him out to the day-room. He passed Chet who was muttering something about Agent 86 and Maxwell smart being there to question Gage. His back stiffened. No, oh come on! I was careful! Wasn't I?

The female agent shook hands with John, as friendly as she always was.

"Mr. Gage, I hope you don't mind us coming down here, but we have some questions for you. If you get called out, we'll of course come back later."

"Ah, no … sure, wh-what's up?"

"We're just following up on some details of our investigation. I guess you haven't heard that the compound had its power cut on Friday of last week since it hasn't reached the newspapers?"

"Oh, really, well th-that's uh, unfortunate?"

"Well, the evidence was going to be destroyed eventually but that's not really the point. The FBI doesn't like to have vigilantes taking on things that don't concern them."

"Don't concern them?" Gage spluttered, slapping a hand over his mouth and calming himself down as much as possible.

"The wires on the roof were cut to the whole building. It would have taken some real punch to climb up there without proper equipment and know exactly which wires to cut and how, don't you agree?"

"Well, yeah, but …"

"What sort of training do you get on that sort of thing, Mr. Gage?"

"Now wait just a minute here …" Gage protested feebly. It took all he had not to glance nervously at his Rover where in the back seat sat the heavy wire cutters and his industrial gloves.

The tones sounded and Gage sighed in relief at the momentary reprieve. The squad was called to an MVA with injuries. John jumped in the squad feeling it was his getaway car. His full attention was on navigating and getting to the victims, even if this might be his last time doing it.

A man with a fractured pelvis and a woman in the car he'd hit head on with head injuries were rushed to Rampart with Johnny in the ambulance. The squad pulled in after the ambulance and Roy took John aside, rushing him into the coffee lounge as soon as he was done with his victims.

"What's going on, Johnny? What did those agents want with you?"

John looked at the floor. How did this happen? The criminals hadn't killed him but they were still getting on his last nerve, poised to kill his career and possibly his freedom if any jury would convict a victim for doing what he did, even if it turned out to be a slap on the wrist. Firemen weren't allowed to have criminal records for public mischief or worse.

"They're asking questions about what happened at the warehouse…"

Roy blew out a long breath, his hands raking through his hair. "Of all the … If they'd just done the right thing from the start none of this would have happened."

"They don't know I did it. I was careful. I don't regret it no matter what happens. I couldn't take the thought of … and for as long as it existed I couldn't sleep, anything I ate turned to coal in my stomach, Roy, I was dying and I didn't even know it."

"I did, Junior. I understand. Look, we'll get you out of it. Somehow. Stay here."

Roy went and called Shea Sullivan from the payphone in the lobby. Sure enough Agent 88 and her partner had questioned Shea about the wire cutting as well. So, they didn't have a definitive suspect after all.

Roy relayed the news to Johnny who had called them in available. He wouldn't let his own problems get in the way of public safety. The young paramedic's hands were sweaty on his green pen as he signed for supplies in the hallway. They would avoid going back to the station for as long as possible.

Lunchtime beckoned and Cap would expect them back at the station. John swallowed hard and got into the squad, forgetting to close the compartments. He stared numbly out the window.

"Johnny, you're gonna have to try to calm down a bit. If they hung around for awhile they're likely going to be there still. They asked Shea the same questions they asked you. They don't know what happened. They're grasping at straws."

"Yeah," Gage said, chewing on the end of his pen.

"Don't do that. Bad for your teeth, plus you could get sick," Roy scolded. Gage took the pen from his mouth and tapped it on the dash all the way back to the station.

Peering through the bay doors to the back parking lot, John's heart sped up just when he'd finally managed to get it under control. The agent was walking amongst the cars, speaking to Cap. Her glance lingered on John's Rover straight into the back seat. Boom, Boom Boom! John sat down hard on the bumper. His wrist shook out of Roy's hand as his pulse was measured.

The agent squinted hard into John's backseat as she passed the Rover, clearly not really interested in what Cap was telling her on her tour.

Chet walked into the bay at that moment just as Gage stood, pretty much ready to go quietly into that bad night. The agents and Cap followed not far behind.

"Ah, John I see you're back. These two agents have something to discuss with you," Cap said, taking his leave.

Gage's hands rose, placed together in surrender. At that moment Chet tripped and toppled forward into John. The two of them went down hard.

"Don't say a word, Gage," Chet whispered into John's ear as he extricated himself from the young paramedic's stomach. "It's all … taken care of." John looked at him dazed and confused.

Chet coughed loudly and rolled to his back. "Ohhhh my back!"

John looked completely puzzled as Roy quickly got the drug box out and started assessing Chet and Stoker told John to stay down because he looked like he was injured. Stoker's eyes looked about ready to pop out of his skull when John opened his mouth to tell him he was okay. Stoker shoved an oxygen mask on John's face to shut him up.

"Stay down, John, you must have hit your head pretty hard. Roy, there's a fair sized lump on the back on his head."

It was true. John could feel the knot forming but he was okay. He just wanted to get up. His eyes grew wide and blurry as Stoker leaned down next to him and Cap herded the FBI agents out of the day-room to give them more room to work.

"John, just lay back. Chet's real sorry he bumped into you. I'd make him clean your Rover out for being so clumsy but he already did that an hour ago," Stoker said meaningfully.

Chet moaned and went on about his back.

"Who loves ya baby?" he whispered between moans.

"What? Chet?"

"Heard 'em talking, trust me, there's nuthin' that goes on in this station without me knowing about it. They had no search warrant but if they took a tour and happened to see … well anyway … imagine my surprise when I find my wire cutters and gloves in the back of your truck. So naturally I took 'em back and put 'em away. I'm a good fireman."

With the relief came the headache. John stopped fighting Stoker's hand on his forehead and the game of up-down ceased. His heart slowed but he could feel every pulse in the back of his head.

"You hit me pretty hard, Chester B," he complained with a crooked grin on his face as Stoker shook his head at the two of them. His hand came up to remove the oxygen mask but was caught by Stoker.

"I'm actually kinda serious here, John. Your pulse is pretty fast, why don't you just lie down while we package Kelly here?"

John grumbled under the mask feeling ridiculous but dizzy.

Marco and Cap placed Chet on a backboard as the very dramatic fireman wailed in agony.

The ambulance Cap summoned arrived and Roy held it so they could assess Johnny and call in to Rampart.

Roy was careful how he worded Chet's injuries. He'd hate to have to give him something he didn't need but on the other hand this had to look as real as possible and though he hated wasting the doctor's time, it was saving a life if truth be told.

Chet sighed in relief. No IV. Roy moved to crouch beside John. John slapped his hand away when a penlight was beamed into his skull.

"It's okay. I know what we're doing now, and thanks. I'll play along but come on, Roy, I'm okay." The two Roy's swam in his vision and he cursed loudly.

"Suspect mild concussion on victim number two, Rampart. Pupils are sluggish but reactive." Roy probed the back of his partner's head, which elicited a low growl of pain and frustration. Roy's fingers came away with a touch of blood. He bandaged John's head, winding gauze all the way around several times. John forgot himself and shook his head, running the bump over the rough ground.

"Ouch!"

"Don't move, Junior," Roy said kindly as John glared up at him.

"Oh. No. You. Don't." John stated categorically. No IV."

"Early ordered it. You know it's standard in concussion cases, Johnny."

"Be a good fireman like me," Chet called from the ambulance where he and Marco sat talking excitedly about the basketball tickets they got.

"Why couldn't he have just tapped me on the shoulder or something?" Gage moaned as Roy started the IV as gently as he could.

"Did you see how fast you were ready to surrender? Convinced they had evidence? If Chet hadn't tackled you, I probably would have and I think I might have a few pounds on him. It was the lesser of two evils."

"Four." Gage said.

"What?" Roy asked, taping down the IV.

"There's two of you, Roy so that means there's probably two of him …" Gage said pitifully.

"Yeah, well you're two much," Roy said. "It'll be okay, Junior. Let's get you to Rampart."

"Yeah, A.S.A.P.," Stoker encouraged as the two feds poked their heads around the corner, ready to protest their questioning getting cut short after they'd waited so long.

"A.S.A.P. What does that even mean?" Gage groaned putting his hand up over his eyes.

"Act Swiftly Awesome Paramedic," Stoker smiled at Roy, shutting out the fed's intrusive gaze by closing the ambulance doors and giving it two taps with his hand. Turning to the feds he added, "Sorry, Gage doesn't have much of a fed-side manner."

XXXX

The ambulance pulled up to Rampart and Chet sat up ready to leap out and help get John inside.

"Whoa there, Chet, you're gonna have to pretend your back hurts and get checked out. What if those feds followed us? How would it look if they found out you faked the whole thing?"

"But I'll get Dr. Morton," Chet complained.

"Yeah, so? He'll tell you you're soft, insult your lifestyle, tell you to exercise more and eat less and you'll be free. Simple as that," Roy said, shoving Chet's head down and taping it to the backboard.

"Hey! You got my hair stuck in the straps."

"Not like you can't afford to lose some, ape man," Johnny laughed.

"An ape man that just swung down and saved your butt, Gage," Chet bragged.

"What? What is this, your cruel to be kind method?"

"Okay, guys, hold up, orderlies are here. John, admit you're hurt, Chet play dead," Roy smiled.

Chet moaned all the way down the hallway, even louder when Nurse McCall told them to take him to treatment two and Dr. Morton.

Dr. Brackett smiled down at John as he was transferred to the examination table.

"Care to tell me what happened, boys?"

"Um, ah, Chet fell and pitched forward, knocking Johnny down."

Brackett sighed fishing out his penlight.

"Ow."

"Lights hurt?"

John nodded as Brackett probed the wound.

"Ow."

Dr. Bracett put a few stitches into the wound before calling for an x-ray.

"I'm gonna get a second job, Roy. I figure if I sit in the top of a lighthouse from now on, I'll glow bright enough for ships to come in safely and they can pay me instead of for electricity."

XXXX

"Well, Johnny, I'm afraid we're gonna have to keep you overnight for observation, you've got a concussion."

"What? No. I didn't even get sick to my stomach," Gage argued.

"You know that isn't always a symptom, just in most cases."

"M'not seeing double anymore."

"Sit up."

"Ow!"

"See?" Brackett got only a grumbled reply.

Just then, Chet limped into the room holding his back.

"Concussion, huh?" the mustached man said.

"Yeah, you?"

"Fit as a fiddle."

"Then why're you limping?"

"Because if you must know, Ga-ge, Morton checked my chart. Turns out it was time for my yearly physical, you know the turn-your-head-and-cough one so being as I was here already…"

"Ohhhhh!" Gage and Desoto and even Brackett said, cringing just a little behind their huge grins.

Chet was signed off work for the night for good measure but allowed to go home, so feeling guilty for faking he took Roy aside while a nurse came in to chart some information on John but before he could speak, Roy did.

"I hate leaving him here alone … I mean he's a big boy and all and he'd hate me sayin' this, but I'm worried about him. It's gonna take a long time for him to get over all this and he hated hospitals before any of this stuff happened. With you and John out there's no way Cap'll be able to find a replacement for me too…"

"There's a double feature on the tube tonight. Why don't I stick around and keep Johnny company?" Chet said.

"And let him sleep when he needs it?"

"Yes, mother."

"Sorry … It's just, God, sometimes when I look at him, all I can see is the way he looked when he was in that drawer. I thought he was dead, Chet."

"I'll look after him," Chet promised.

Entering the treatment room, Roy was pleased to see John's IV gone. The young paramedic wore a brave, slightly doe-eyed grin.

"They were finally able to give you something for the pain, huh?" Roy smiled.

"M-hm."

"Listen, Johnny, I'm gonna have to get back but Chet's gonna spend the night with you."

"I don't swing that way," John joked before becoming very serious. "Roy can you come here a minute?"

Roy leaned down next to his very out of it friend. "Roy, I can't stay here. The nightmares have stopped but I don't know how I'll do with being suddenly … woke up by some nurse I don't recognize in the middle of the night every hour. Brackett ordered neuro checks. What if I freak out?"

Roy would love to have told John not to worry about that but now that he brought it up, with all that had happened to the young man in the last few months, he couldn't see how this situation would be at all pleasant.

Roy had some time on his hands while a fill-in was found for Gage and Chet so he asked Ms. McCall what could be done. John was fighting the meds hard to stay awake and Roy had no doubt his stubborn partner would find a way to keep his eyes open somehow all night.

"Tell you what. Since Chet's staying with Johnny, we'll have him wake John and then the nurse can come in slowly and check vitals and do neuro checks throughout the night. Do you think that would work?"

"Well, John's been waking up to Kelly's ugly mug for four years so it has to be better than a stranger. Thanks Dix," Roy said gratefully.

Roy told John the news.

"Chet? Chet will wake me?"

At first, Roy and Chet thought John was going to make a joke like he normally did but it never came.

"Thanks, Chet," John said and the sincerity and vulnerability nearly broke the phantom's heart.

XXXX

The night went well. John passed all his neuro checks with flying colors. Together they hit on the nurses and Chet was heartened to see his friend doing something normal. Perhaps he would mend with time.

In the morning the A-shift was off. John was being released so Roy came to pick him up directly after shift. Mike, Marco, and Cap came to see him.

When the five men were alone they spoke in low tones about the evidence Chet cleverly took away. Dixie joined the men to say goodbye to her young patient before she went off shift. Under her arm was a rolled up newspaper, which she handed to John with a mischievous grin on her pretty face.

John unfurled the newspaper and stared at the front page incredulously. There in a full color photo was April Seaquest's defense attorney, wearing only paper towels wound around her body like a mummy and looking mutinous.

"I don't understand…" Gage trailed off.

"Kel took me to the Gown and Gavel last night for dinner. Seems Ms. Seaquest's lawyer was in the washroom stall next to mine changing out of her business suit into some evening wear and bragging about her day being much better than the one she'd had during the quote, fiasco of a trial Seaquest's had been to another woman in another stall. I reached under and snagged her clothes."

"You didn't!"

"Oh, but I did," Dix said proudly. "She'll find her legal briefs waving from the flag pole on River Road."

"Remind me not to tick you off," Chet said with awed respect and a smartly delivered salute.

"Well, in light of Ms. McCall's news this hardly seems worth mentioning," Cap said mysteriously. But you might as well know, the compound burned down last night."

"Nothing left," Stoker added, a glint in his eye.

"Lot of wood in that structure," Lopez added.

John's forehead puckered as he gave his friends a pleased grin.

"Sorry you missed it, Junior," Roy said. "Agent 88 and Max were gonna head over there before it burned looking for more evidence on the wire cutting but they got a call and were too late. Too bad you were here. Did you know Shea had his first game right around the time the fire started too, full house."

John smiled at his brothers as Roy handed him a fresh pair of clothes and informed him that Blister was already at his house waiting for him. He would go back to work on Tuesday and from there he'd take it one day at a time.

John couldn't say thanks because to do so would acknowledge something he suspected deep down in his heart.

Remember, John, a friend will help you move; a good friend will help you move a dead body.

The end