Johnny let his head rest against the vinyl upholstery of the back seat. He wasn't asleep, but he kept his eyes closed. He knew if he opened them, Roy would be looking at him again. This way, maybe Roy would relax a little and not worry so much.

He wasn't sure how long they'd been on the road. He only knew that with each mile that passed, they grew closer to Rampart. And that meant letting people poke and prod him. And questions. There would be all kinds of questions about things he didn't ever want to tell anybody. He didn't want to see their faces - the curiosity, the pity, the disgust.

He shut his eyes tighter and turned his face father into the seat back. His arms went automatically around himself, trying to hold everything in - trying with all his might not to cry.

Why are you crying? Aren't you happy? You told me you were having fun... were you lying to me? You know what happens when you lie... You've been such a good boy and now you have to ruin it by lying to me...

I'm sorry... I didn't mean to lie... I wasn't lying... I swear I wasn't lying... I am having fun... I don't know why I was crying... I like being with you... I do... please don't punish me... please don't...

He felt the sob rise up in his throat. He swallowed hard, but he couldn't stop it. With a convulsive heave of his shoulders, it tore out of him; a half strangled sound he did his best to muffle.

"Johnny?"

He pulled his legs up to his chest, trying his best to disappear, but there was nowhere to go, no place to escape to. He suddenly was aware of someone settling down next to him and a jolt of fear shot through him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered between hiccuping sobs. "I didn't mean to cry. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me. I won't do it again. I promise... I promise..."

He trailed off, out of words and tears, left only with an occasional, shuddering breath. Only then did he register the gentle words being spoken softly, filtering into his mind.

"He's not here. He can't hurt you. I won't let him hurt you. I'm here, Johnny. I'm here... I'm right here."

The words kept coming, guiding him back to himself, and he finally opened his eyes and saw Roy sitting beside him in the back seat. Johnny glanced up at the empty front passenger seat, then back to his friend.

"You..." He wiped the back of his hand across his nose and sniffed. "You climbed over?"

Roy smiled and gave a nod toward Crockett behind the wheel. "Yeah and the lieutenant here isn't too keen on being our chauffeur."

From up front, Crockett snorted. "Either one of you calls me James and you're walking home."

Roy's smile grew wider. "See? Guess I'll just sit back here for a while and stay out of his way. He carries a gun, ya know."

With that, Roy settled back against the seat. Johnny felt some of the tension leave his body and he let his arms drop to his sides. He was still trembling some, but that too was easing. He let his eyes make brief contact with Roy's.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

Now Roy turned to him, a determined look on his face. "Johnny, I'm gonna keep telling you this until you believe it. You don't have anything to be sorry about. None of this was your fault. You didn't do anything wrong." Roy's face softened and his smile returned. "Got that?"

Johnny leaned his head back against the seat. "Yeah, I got it," he whispered.

But you don't know, Roy. If you knew... if you knew...

* * *

Dixie McCall still found it hard to believe she was standing here waiting for Roy and Johnny to arrive. It was almost as if the last year and half had never happened and she was merely waiting for them to show up from a run, a patient in tow. The only things that made it different was that Johnny was the patient they were expecting, and she and Kel were ready with a secluded exam room, far removed from the regular emergency entrance. It was a room reserved for extreme situations, when isolation from the general populace was deemed necessary. After the phone call Kel had received from Roy yesterday, he had set this room up to allow Johnny the greatest amount of privacy.

She had hardly believed Kel when he called her late last night and told her Johnny was alive and that Roy and Lieutenant Crockett were bringing him home. It had been so hard to deal with his disappearance, to accept that she would never again look up from her desk and see his face, sometimes wearing that crooked grin that told he was inordinately pleased with himself, sometimes upset about a rescue gone wrong and a patient lost, sometimes steamed about something only Johnny could get worked up about. But that was all part of the charm that was John Gage. He'd always kept things interesting.

Sometimes the most entertaining parts of her day had been when Roy and Johnny would stop by her work station to shoot the breeze for a few minutes in between runs. She never knew if she would be required to be a referee, stand in mother, career counselor, or to just give Johnny a hard time about chasing her nurses. That had all changed, and it had taken months to realize it would never be the same again.

Eventually, enough time passed that the ache wasn't quite so acute, and life, as it always does, resumed its routine. Roy worked his shifts and still stopped by to chat occasionally. But he wasn't the same. He'd gone through several temporary partners and a couple of longer term ones. They were all good men and excellent paramedics, but it's not easy to replace your best friend, especially when you're not willing to let anyone try for the position. Roy did his job, but something had gone out of him. It wasn't until the last few months that Dixie had begun to notice the deep rooted sorrow wasn't quite so pronounced in his eyes. Even Roy was healing.

Now everything was going to be turned upside down. All the freshly healed scars would be ripped open and there would be new grief to work through. Though they had no specifics on what had happened, Dixie knew Kel was expecting the worst when Johnny walked through the door. Dixie wasn't one to wallow in news reports that went into gruesome details, but she'd heard enough about the deaths of the other firemen that she had her own ideas on what Johnny might have suffered through. She also knew that whatever she was imagining probably didn't cover it by half.

She sensed someone come up behind her. She didn't have to turn to know it was Kel.

"They should be here any time," he stated with a glance at his watch. "Roy called from Bakersfield to let me know their time table."

"Did he tell you anything more about Johnny's condition?" Dixie asked.

Kel shook his head. "Not much. Just that we'll need to take things slow and easy. Apparently his emotional state is pretty fragile."

Dixie nodded, biting her lower lip at the sudden surge of emotion. She felt Kel's hand slip around her waist in a rare show of affection. Kelly Brackett was not a demonstrative man, and certainly not at the hospital. Now though, he pulled her close to his side.

"Johnny's going to need us to be strong," he reminded her, his voice holding none of its usual gruffness.

"I know," she replied softly, then she moved out of Kel's arm to peer out the glass door. "They're here," she announced evenly.

She stepped back, not wanting to crowd. Kel took her by the arm and led her to stand beside the exam room. When the glass door opened, Dixie found herself holding her breath and had to make a conscious effort to breathe normally.

Her eyes went first to Johnny, and she hoped her small gasp of disbelief had gone unheard. The very fact that he was here was enough to bring tears to her eyes, but to see him in this condition also stirred up other, more intense feelings - anger being the fiercest, anger that someone was actually cruel enough to purposefully cause such hurt to another human being.

To say that he was thin was an understatement. Johnny had always been thin, but he looked like he hadn't eaten right or nearly enough in a long time. His dark hair was long, hanging past his shoulders, but where it had always been wild and unruly, it now hung limp. But it was his face that drew her gaze and held it. He was pale and drawn, making his dark eyes look bigger than they actually were. Those same eyes that had always held a hint of mischief were now full of fear and trepidation. He limped when he walked, favoring his right leg, making his gait slow and hesitant.

She wanted to rush to him - to throw her arms around him in a welcoming hug, but she held back. If Johnny's demeanor hadn't cautioned her, then Roy's would have. He hovered close, his expression one of grim determination, reminding the nurse of a mother bear protecting her cub. His hand lingered by Johnny's arm, but he didn't actually hold it, though Dixie was sure that if Johnny had needed Roy's support, that arm would have found its mark.

Crockett was on the other side, looking no less determined than Roy, but Dixie knew the detective's feelings stemmed not from personal affection for Johnny, but rather from the professional interest he had vested in this case.

As they approached, Kel beckoned to them. "We're set up in here," he said, and walked into the exam room. Dixie held the door while Roy took Johnny. Crockett tactfully stayed outside, but took up a position next to the door. Dixie flashed him a grateful smile before she let the door close behind her.

When she entered the room, she saw Johnny standing close to Roy. The younger man's arms were wrapped around his torso as if he were cold and he wasn't looking directly at Kel as the doctor spoke to him.

"Johnny, I want to make this as easy and comfortable for you as possible." Kel's voice was amazingly gentle. "But I do want to do a thorough exam, to have a clear picture of your health right now. Are you all right with that?"

Johnny's eyes darted to Roy before he finally nodded.

"That's great," Kel resumed. "We'll run some lab work as well." He caught Dixie's eye and tilted his head toward the shelf.

Dixie took her cue and retrieved a gown. She came over and held it out to him, giving him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "We'll give you a few minutes to change. Just holler when you're done."

The medical team took their leave and stood out in the hall in heavy silence for a few minutes. Roy had stayed in the room with Johnny, and he was the one who came to the door to let them back in.

Johnny was now dressed in the gown and seated up on the table. His hands were at his side, but Dixie noticed his fists were balled up tightly and his shoulders were hunched. He was obviously not looking forward to this. Roy had repositioned himself at Johnny's side, his face expectant.

Kel stepped up, and with very measured movements, began a methodical exam, doing for himself what most doctors would have handed off to a nurse. The first thing he did was have Johnny get on the scales. Dixie saw Kel frown slightly as he jotted down the paramedic's weight. Then he checked Johnny's blood pressure, took his temperature, looked at his eyes, ears and throat. During this unhurried process he kept up a calm but steady stream of questions.

"Did you get to eat?"

"Yeah," came the mumbling reply.

"Enough?"

A shrug.

"Were you able to sleep?"

Another shrug, then, "Some."

"Did he use any drugs on you?"

Silence.

"Johnny?"

"Maybe... I... I think maybe... sometimes. I can't really remember..."

"He had our drug box," Roy reminded them. "So he at least had access to what was in there."

Kel's mouth twisted thoughtfully. "Well, you guys don't carry enough of anything to cause any real problems, but we'll check it out with the lab."

He continued his exam by looking at Johnny's arms, Dixie assumed for needle marks. He paused briefly when he found the noticeable scars that encircled the paramedic's wrists. He moved on without comment. Dixie knew Roy had matching marks on his own wrists, though far less pronounced than his partner's.

"Do you remember how long you've been away from him?"

"I... I don't know."

"Okay, don't worry about it. Is it okay if I take a look at your back now?"

Johnny's arms went tight around his chest, a negative response if Dixie had ever seen one. Fortunately, Kel recognized the younger man's resistance and made no move toward him.

"Johnny," Roy spoke up quietly. "He needs to be sure there's no infection there. He just wants to look."

Roy's words must have had the right effect. Johnny slowly let his arms drop and nodded once, but Dixie noticed he screwed his eyes up tight the whole time Kel was checking the welts and scars. After a short time, Kel moved back, his jaw tight with what he was feeling. It took him a moment before he continued.

"Well, they're mostly healed. There are a couple that look a little inflamed. We'll use some ointment and give you an antibiotic just to be on the safe side. Now, let me take a look at your leg."

Johnny flinched slightly, but didn't draw his leg away as Kel ran his hands down it, frowning when he felt the irregularity he found in the knee.

"Can you tell me what happened to it?" he asked.

Johnny's hands were clutching at the sheet underneath him. He glanced over at Roy again before he answered.

"A bat," Johnny finally told them.

Dixie heard Roy's hiss of dismay, but Kel ignored it and resumed his questions.

"You mean a baseball bat?" he asked. "He hit you with a bat?"

Johnny hesitated a moment, then nodded again.

"Son of a..." Roy turned away before he finished the curse, but his outburst still made Johnny cringe.

"Roy..." Kel warned evenly, waiting for the senior paramedic to gain control, then he turned back to Johnny. "It looks like it was broken and healed wrong. We'll get pictures and see if we can undo some of the damage." Kel stood up straight, and Dixie knew him well enough to read his face. He was decidedly uncomfortable about what he needed to ask next.

"Johnny... there's another exam I should do if... well, if it's necessary. I wouldn't put you through it if I didn't have to."

Kel's voice had grown more compassionate than Dixie could ever remember hearing it. His next question was so full of regret that it brought tears to her eyes.

"You tell me, Johnny... do I need to do the exam?"

The dark haired young man's arms once more wrapped around himself and his eyes closed. Dixie instinctively stepped closer, wanting to be able to help him through this somehow. She could see the tears that leaked out of the corners of his eyes and ran down his cheeks. And then he gave one brief nod of his head.

"God damn," Roy swore under his breath, his hand on Johnny's shoulder, but his head turned away. Even Kel stepped aside for a moment, his hands jammed into the pockets of his lab coat. The silence that hung over the room for the next few moments was deafening.

Dixie watched them as each man battled with his own personal demons. It wasn't something they hadn't expected, but she supposed there was a difference when you were facing the reality of it. And being men, they were so much more horrified at the thought of one of their own being violated in that way than they had ever been with any of the many women they'd come across in their professions - women who'd been equally brutalized. But maybe she wasn't being fair. This wasn't just another victim, this was a very close friend.

She moved over to Johnny's side. He still hadn't opened his eyes and his whole body was tensed, his Adam's Apple working furiously. She wasn't sure how much touch he would allow, so she gave his knee only a light pat.

"C'mon, Johnny," she urged kindly. "You need to lie down."

He opened his eyes and regarded her warily for a moment, but then did as she asked.

"On your side, please, Johnny," Kel requested, once more the professional.

As Johnny shifted, trying feebly to keep himself covered with the open backed gown, Roy stepped around to the other side of the table to stand by Johnny's head. Dixie watched as Johnny reached out to grab his partner's hand and clutch it tightly. Roy scooted up a stool so he could sit and be at eye level with his friend, never letting go of Johnny's hand.

Dixie moved over to assist. It was not a pleasant process, but Kel did his best to be gentle, using soothing words while he worked, stopping every time Johnny's winced, apologizing for whatever pain he was causing. Dixie wasn't even sure Johnny heard him. Roy had bent low and was talking a steady stream of encouragement that Dixie couldn't really hear. The two paramedics' foreheads were so close now that they appeared to be touching. Johnny's eyes were squeezed shut, but he still seemed to be listening to whatever Roy was saying to him.

At last, Kel was done. He moved his instrument tray aside, the samples he'd taken ready to go to the lab. Noticing that Johnny was shivering slightly, Dixie took a blanket from the shelf and covered him with it. Roy glanced up questioningly.

"That's all for right now," Kel told them kindly. "We'll let you rest a bit, Johnny. We still need blood and urine, and I want some film on that leg. When that's done, we'll talk a little."

Kel motioned Dixie aside to give her instructions for the labs. "I want a complete work up, CBC, Hepatic Function Panel. A tox screen too." He paused, then lowered his voice. "We'll also need to check for STD's." He gave her arm a squeeze, then stepped out of the room. She saw him stop to speak with Lieutenant Crockett just as the door swung shut.

Dixie grabbed up her own tray and moved over to Johnny. "Okay, my friend, I just need a quick donation here." She took the arm that was nearest her and held it gently, making sure she caused as little discomfort as possible as she took several vials of blood. When she was done, she handed a plastic cup to Roy. "Do you want to help him?"

"I can do it," Johnny spoke up defiantly.

Dixie smiled warmly and leaned over to see that not only did Johnny have his eyes open, but he was glaring at her.

"I certainly hope so," she replied in a teasing tone.

Johnny didn't smile at her, but she thought she caught a small hint of amusement in his eyes as he took the cup from Roy.

There's still hope, she told herself, feeling a little lighter than she had all day.

* * *

Roy felt drained. He didn't know how much more he could handle today. But he knew no matter how weary he was, Johnny had to be feeling much worse. They were sitting in the exam room. All the tests and X-rays were done and Johnny had gotten dressed again. Dixie had applied some antibiotic cream to the sores on his back and all that was left was to talk to Brackett and get his recommendations.

Roy glanced over at Johnny. He was sitting on the table, his head bowed and shoulders slumped. The exam had taken a lot out of him and he hadn't started out with much to spare. Roy struggled to find something comforting to say, something to ease the pain and humiliation of his partner's ordeal. But he knew words were useless in this situation.

The door opened and Brackett came in, with Dixie beside him. The doctor gave Johnny an encouraging smile, then got down to business.

"Not all the lab results are back," he told them, "but here's what we've got so far. You're at least twenty pounds underweight and showing the beginning signs of malnutrition, but nothing Joanne can't help take care of." He glanced over at Roy. "Am I right?"

Roy chuckled. "She's going to be delighted," he agreed.

"I have a list of foods I want you to be sure and incorporate into your diet for the next few months. Don't skip meals, even if you don't feel like eating, but don't fill up on junk. Your body needs to rebuild itself. I'm going to put you on regime of vitamins and iron supplements. You're showing some slight anemia."

He paused and waited for a response. Johnny finally looked up and nodded that he'd heard and understood.

"Good. The tox screen will take a while, but I don't think it'll show anything. I think there's been enough time for any drugs to have left your system. As far as any infections, I'll have to call you with the results, but I'm giving you an antibiotic anyway, so that will give us a head start on anything we might find."

Brackett shifted and crossed his arms over his chest. "Internally, Johnny... I did find some scarring, nothing that looks like it should cause you any trouble. If you experience any discomfort or burning, call me."

Johnny didn't respond and Brackett didn't push it. He moved on to a less awkward subject.

"We won't do it today, but I want Cal Reynolds to look at your leg. He's one of our top orthopedic surgeons. If anyone can repair that knee, he can. I'll ask him if he can see you Monday morning."

There was silence in the room for a time. Johnny never looked at any of them. He kept his eyes lowered, as if fascinated by his hands that were clasped together in his lap. Brackett's mouth twitched slightly before he continued.

"Johnny... I can't begin to tell you how to come to terms with what you've been through. I can only offer suggestions. One of them is not to try and do this by yourself. Right now, I know you're tired and probably overwhelmed. Give yourself some time... get used to things again. But when you're ready, give me a call. I know a couple of very good therapists. You might find them helpful."

Roy watched Johnny intently for any reaction. There was none and Roy knew instinctively that his friend had reached his limit of emotional endurance for the day. It was time to go home. The paramedic got to his feet and reached to shake Brackett's hand.

"Thanks for everything, Doc," he said effusively. "You've been a big help." He turned to Dixie and she moved over to give him a hug. "You too, Dix."

The nurse turned to Johnny. Roy could see the momentary debate she waged, and knew what she wanted more than anything was to give Johnny a comforting embrace. She settled, however, for brushing his bangs out of his face.

"You take care of yourself, hotshot," she ordered with mock sternness. "I'll stop by and check up on you."

Johnny's eyes still didn't move, but Roy thought he saw one corner of his partner's mouth quirk up slightly at the comment.

* * *

Joanne stood in the doorway and surveyed Chris' room. It was as ready as she could make it. The sheets were changed on the extra twin bed. She'd shifted her son's clothes, clearing two drawers in the dresser. These she filled with a selection of Johnny's clothing, which she'd pulled out of boxes in the garage and washed to get the musty smell of storage out of them. She didn't have room for all Johnny's things, but there was a selection of t-shirts, jeans, socks and underwear.

She smiled, remembering how she'd tried to talk Roy into only saving a few of his partner's items of clothing, shaking her head when her husband had refused to throw any of them away. Everything had gone into the boxes, from the oldest undershirt to an unopened package of boxer shorts.

It was a good thing Roy didn't listen to me, she mused. Now, at least Johnny won't have to buy all new clothes.

She had made room in the small closet and brought up some of Johnny's nicer things. Some casual shirts, a couple of long sleeve dress shirts, a jacket. She'd also dug around until she'd found his shoes and pulled out his well worn running shoes, his hiking boots and a pair of nice loafers. It wouldn't be like he was living back in his old apartment, but at least he wouldn't feel quite so out of place.

It had taken most of the morning, but with Jenny and Chris at school and Missy across the street at the Crawfords, Joanne was just as glad for the chores. She would have gone crazy sitting around with nothing to do but wait. She knew what time they left this morning, but she had no idea how long they'd be at Rampart. She had wanted to meet them there, but Roy had hesitated, finally telling her it would be better to wait at home. He didn't want any more of a crowd at the hospital than necessary. Joanne knew her husband well enough to realize there was a great deal he wasn't going into on the phone.

The sound of the car in the driveway brought all the butterflies in Joanne's stomach to life. She moved to the window and peered out. Lieutenant Crockett's Mustang was there parked beside their station wagon. The doors opened and Joanne saw first Ron, then Roy get out. Roy bent his head down back into the car. Joanne couldn't see very well from her vantage point, but she assumed he was tilting the seat forward. In a few moments he emerged again and Johnny climbed out of the back seat.

Joanne couldn't stay where she was any longer. She left Chris' room and hurried down the stairs. Rushing to the front door, she threw it open just in time to see Crockett's car pulling away and the two men she'd been waiting for coming up the walk.

She managed to restrain herself from racing down to greet them. Instead, she waited at the door and watched as Johnny limped toward her, Roy at his side. She could see the strain on Roy's face and wondered how it had gone at the hospital. Johnny's face had been focused on the ground as he walked, but when he reached the door, he lifted his head.

Joanne felt the tears well up as she broke into a huge smile. She couldn't hold back any longer. She held her arms out wide.

"Johnny..." she managed to get out around the lump in her throat. She took him into her arms, surprised first at how thin he was and second at how tense he was in her embrace. "I can't even tell you how good it is to see you..."

She trailed off at the anxious look on Roy's face, afraid she'd done something horribly wrong. She pulled back, but didn't quite let go, letting her hands rest on Johnny's upper arms.

"Johnny?"

He finally looked at her and she had to work at not reacting outwardly to what she saw in his eyes.

"Hi, Jo." His voice was quiet, almost timid, and so unlike the John Gage she'd known, she felt the tears well up all over again.

And then suddenly she felt him relax under her hands, almost as if he'd lost all his strength, and he moved toward her. He didn't embrace her, but he let his head fall forward until it rested on her shoulder. Joanne moved instinctively again as she once more wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly.

"It's so good to have you back," she told him softly.

* * *

Lunch had been a quiet affair. Johnny was able to eat most of the vegetable soup Joanne had warmed up for them, but he was too tired to get down more than half of the grilled cheese sandwich. Roy and Joanne had made small talk about the trip, but thankfully didn't try too hard to pull Johnny into the conversation. When they had finished, Joanne quickly rinsed off their dishes.

"I've got you set up in Chris' room," she told Johnny as she dried her hands off on the towel. "You guys might want to sack out for a few hours before the kids come home. You're probably tired after that trip."

"I don't know about Johnny, but I need a shower before I do anything." Roy rubbed at his bleary eyes. "Brackett gave Johnny some prescriptions that have to be filled."

"I can do it," Joanne volunteered. "I need to run to the store anyway. You guys stay here and rest." Roy handed her the scripts from his shirt pocket. "Is there anything you need? Johnny?"

"Milk," Johnny blurted out before he'd even thought. "I haven't had milk for... well, for a long time."

Joanne reached over to give his hand a squeeze. "Milk it is." She gave Roy a quick kiss and got up from the table. In a few moments, Johnny heard the front door shut as she left.

Johnny sat staring at the tablecloth for a time, then looked up when Roy stood.

"I gotta go shower." He gave a small laugh. "I've been wearing these clothes for two days. What about you? You can use the kid's bathroom."

Johnny shrugged, then got up from the table and followed Roy upstairs. It was hard on his leg, and he was glad for the hand Roy offered to help him make the last few steps. As he walked into Chris' bedroom, the younger man wondered briefly why Joanne had put him here rather than in the small guest room he'd always used in the past, but that thought was chased away by the surprise he experienced when he found his own clothes in the drawers Roy showed him.

Johnny stared at the items in astonishment. He finally turned wondering eyes on Roy.

"You... you kept everything."

Now it was Roy's turn to shrug in embarrassment. "Well, not quite everything. We didn't have room for your furniture. But your other stuff is in boxes in the garage. You can go through them if you want."

Johnny sank down on the edge of the bed, trying to comprehend everything Roy had done. "How long has it been?" he asked in a low voice.

Roy sat down beside him. "You don't know?"

Johnny shook his head. "No, I... he never... I guess I lost track..."

Roy didn't say anything for a moment. His hands brushed absently at a spot on his pants. Johnny glanced over at him and it seemed like Roy was trying to decide something.

"Well," he finally began. "It's April now. April of '78. It's been a little over eighteen months."

Johnny just shook his head. It was too hard to put it into perspective yet. It had seemed like an eternity while he was gone.

"Guess I missed out on some stuff," he ventured. He didn't hear any answer, but he felt the bed move as Roy got up.

Johnny regarded his friend curiously. Roy had moved to the door, his face unreadable. "You okay while I shower?" he asked.

Johnny nodded and watched Roy disappear, wondering what he'd said wrong.

* * *

You're such an idiot, DeSoto, Roy told himself for about the tenth time as he got out of the shower and dried himself off. You should have just told him. It was the perfect opportunity.

But he couldn't be sure. He didn't want to just spring the news on him like a bolt out of the blue. Johnny was still so fragile emotionally. The last thing he needed right now was to be told the woman he'd loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with had abandoned their child and hightailed it out of town at the first opportunity.

He could almost see Joanne's scowling face at his terminology. Of course, that wasn't what he would tell Johnny. He would try and couch the news in more sympathetic words, but that was the basic truth. And it was a truth Roy didn't think Johnny should hear just yet.

He walked out of the bathroom and pulled clean clothes out of his drawer. He didn't hear the other shower running, so either Johnny was done or he hadn't made it in yet. He was probably sound asleep.

Roy ran a comb through his hair and walked out into the hall. He took a quick look into Chris' open door, but didn't see Johnny. The hall bathroom had obviously been used, but was also empty.

Feeling the beginnings of panic, Roy trotted downstairs, relieved when he saw his partner standing at the patio door, staring into the back yard. Johnny's hair was wet, and he was bare footed. His t-shirt covered up his thin ribs, but his jeans hung loose on him.

"Thought you'd be asleep," he said as he came up beside him.

The dark head moved slightly. "Don't really wanna sleep right now," he murmured. "Too many dreams."

Roy didn't know what to say to that, but Johnny didn't seem to expect an answer. He continued staring at the yard.

"You wanna go outside?" Roy finally asked.

Johnny finally turned to look at him. "No... I was just..." The younger man turned away again, flustered. "The pool's gone," he stated, as if that explained everything.

Roy glanced outside. "Yeah, well we had to when..." He caught himself before he started talking about how scared Joanne had gotten when Missy had started climbing the steps one day. His wife hadn't rested until Roy had dismantled the pool that had been in their yard for years.

"It was pretty old," Roy hedged, hoping that would placate Johnny for now.

Apparently it did. Johnny moved away from the window and limped over to the wall in the living room where Joanne hung all their family photos. Roy watched as his partner studied first the old, familiar ones: baby pictures of Chris and Jenny, Roy and Joanne's wedding portrait, the procession of school shots. Then Johnny moved on to newer photos, and the hungry look on his face as he studied them made Roy's heart ache. He suddenly clued in on what Johnny was doing. He was looking for the things that had changed - things he'd missed while he was gone.

Johnny found the pictures of Missy just as Roy remembered they would be there. He saw his friend's face grow puzzled as he tried to place this dark headed infant. Both Chris and Jenny were bald until they were nearly two years old.

Roy stepped up just as Johnny turned.

"Looks like Joanne finally got one who looks like her," Johnny observed quietly. He smiled a sad little smile. "I guess my congratulations are a little late."

"It's never too late for good wishes," Roy replied. Tell him, just tell him. I can't... not yet...it's not right yet. He's not ready. "Johnny... uh... well, we adopted Missy... Melissa... Melissa Jo is her name.." he finished lamely.

Johnny's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Really? What made you do that?"

Now... he's asked... just tell him... "Umm... well, it just kind of happened. We didn't really plan on it."

"Oh." Johnny moved away from the photos and sat down on the couch. "Can I ask you something?"

Damn.... what a chicken shit you are, Roy's conscience screamed at him, but the moment had passed, and he didn't know how to bring it up again.

"Sure." He took a seat in the recliner.

Johnny looked unsure of himself. His hands were fidgeting with the tassels on the throw pillow. "Do... do the guys know... that I'm here, I mean."

Roy shook his head. "Nobody knows yet. Just me, Crockett... Brackett and Dixie of course, but that's all. I have to go to work tomorrow. What do you want me to tell them?"

Johnny's hands stopped, but Roy could see the slight tremble in them. "They'll want to come see me," he whispered.

"Probably," Roy agreed. "But if I tell them to wait, they will."

"But they'll know... they'll know..." Johnny's arms came up, letting Roy know this was becoming too hard for the younger man to deal with.

"Johnny..." Roy leaned forward to better get his point across. "Brackett's report will be confidential. Nobody will know anything you don't want them to."

Johnny shook his head. "They'll know anyway. We knew... we knew what happened to the others... I knew... I knew..."

Roy sat in silence a moment. He knew what Johnny was saying. That he'd known what was going to happen to him, and he'd made that choice anyway.

"Johnny... it doesn't matter what anybody thinks happened. The guys are your friends and they'll stand by you... just like I'll stand by you. I... Johnny, I owe you more than I can ever repay."

Johnny looked at him, his dark eyes startled. "I almost got you killed."

Roy sighed in resignation. It was going to take a long time to undo what that monster had done. "I'm not going to argue with you," he stated, smiling patiently. He fell silent and waited until he could see that Johnny had relaxed somewhat before he spoke again.

"You know, Lieutenant Crockett is gonna need to talk to you at some point."

He'd said the wrong thing. Instantly, Johnny resumed his protective posture and tried to draw even further into the corner of the couch.

"No... I can't.... please... I can't do that... I can't..."

Roy saw the abject terror in those dark eyes and damned his own stupidity. He should have known what would happen. He rose up from the chair and came over to sit next to Johnny, careful not to crowd him.

"It's okay... I'm sorry. You don't have to talk to him. Don't worry about it. It's okay."

He kept up his litany until it finally seemed to penetrate Johnny's panicked mind. He slowly calmed down, his tensed muscles relaxing. When at last his arms dropped back to his sides, Roy knew Johnny was once more in control of himself.

"I'm sorry," the younger man apologized contritely, his face turned away in embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it," Roy assured him. "I'm sorry I brought it up." His ears caught the sound of the front door. "Sounds like Joanne's home. I'm gonna go help her with the groceries. Will you be all right?"

Johnny nodded once, but didn't meet Roy's eyes. Roy sighed and got up to go help his wife.

* * *

"I couldn't tell him, Jo. I stood there like an idiot and couldn't get my mouth to work."

Joanne stood at the sink peeling potatoes. Roy was supposed to be helping, but had spent the last ten minutes berating himself, waving a half peeled russet in his hand.

"Roy, calm down," Joanne cautioned. "You said yourself Johnny isn't in a very stable emotional state."

The afternoon had been quiet, but strained, as they tried hard not to talk about anything that might upset Johnny. Eventually, the younger man had given in to the exhaustion and gone upstairs to fall asleep in Chris' room. When Roy was certain his partner was really sleeping, he came down to tell Joanne what had happened while she was gone. True to his nature, Roy was upset with himself for what he felt was cowardice.

"Yeah, but Jo, he came right out and asked. I should've just told him."

Joanne shook her head. "Maybe... but I think you're right. I think he needs more time to adjust first. It's going to be hard enough to deal with what happened to him without feeling..."

"Betrayed?" Roy finished evenly as he resumed peeling his potato.

"Roy..." Joanne started to reprove, but gave up. That was, after all, what she'd been about to say. She sighed. "Has he asked about Kathy at all?"

Roy shook his head. "No. I think he's still trying to cope with the concept that he's back home and not with that bast... sorry... psycho." Roy tossed the potato into the pot and reached for another one. "But he's gonna ask some day. What do we tell him?"

Joanne sighed again. "The truth, I suppose. Eventually, he'll need to hear the truth about everything."

She took the potato from Roy's hands and made quick work of it. That done, she finished placing them, along with the carrots she'd prepared earlier, alongside the roast she was making for dinner. Once that was done and the whole pan was in the oven and baking, she wiped her hands and glanced at the clock.

"I told the Crawford's I'd get the kids by 4:30. It's just after 4:00 now. I think I'll go get them anyway. It'll give me a chance to talk to them before Johnny wakes up." She regarded her husband tenderly. She knew he was nearly as tired as Johnny had been, but he'd yet to try and get any rest. "Why don't you lay down for a while. We've got a couple hours before dinner."

Roy gave her a concerned look. "Are you sure you want to talk to them by yourself?"

"I'll be fine," she assured him. "You go get some sleep."

Roy kissed her forehead. "I guess I will. I'm about dead on my feet right now. I'm gonna keep the door open though, in case Johnny needs anything."

They walked arm in arm to the bottom of the stairs. Roy took her in his arms and gave her a long embrace before he let go and trudged upstairs.

Joanne watched him go, then headed out the front door. This was going to be a wonderful experience as well as a hard one. She and Roy had agreed not to say anything to Chris or Jennifer about Johnny until Roy had actually seen for himself the condition his friend was in. They didn't want the kids to get their hopes up if Johnny wasn't able to come home with them. So now she had to tell them that he was alive, but that he wasn't going to be quite the same as they would expect him to be. She believed her children were sensitive enough to understand they had to take it easy with him. They certainly loved Johnny enough that they would be eager to help him recover.

She walked across the street and one house down. Frank and Norma Crawford had lived in the neighborhood for nearly 15 years, and had been the first people to welcome the DeSoto family when they moved in right before Jenny was born. As the older couple's children had all grown and left home, they had become like grandparents to Chris and Jenny and now Melissa. Over the years, they had become fairly well acquainted with Johnny and had been overjoyed to learn that Roy's friend and partner had been found. They also understood completely why the kids hadn't been told anything yet.

As Joanne came up the front walkway, the door opened up and Norma stood there to welcome her.

"You're a little early," the gray haired woman greeted with a smile. "We're still making cookies."

Joanne could smell the end product and smiled her appreciation. "I certainly hope they're making these for after dinner," she laughed as she entered the house.

Norma gave Joanne a sly wink. "What else?"

"How were they?" Joanne asked as they made their way into the kitchen.

"Good as gold, as always," her neighbor assured her. "Missy Jo's been asking for you though. I think she's more than ready to go home."

As they entered the arched entryway, Joanne saw two blond heads bent over a cookie sheet and a small dark one at the table's edge, trying to peer over.

"Look who's here," Norma called and all three children looked up from their task.

"Mom!" Chris and Jenny chorused, breaking into big smiles, happy to see her but reluctant to leave their baking. Missy had no such devotion. One sight of Joanne brought her toddling across the kitchen floor, hands outstretched.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma," she gurgled happily as Joanne swung her up into her arms and hugged her tightly.

"Ooooh, I missed you today," she cooed. She ran her hand over the little girl's hair to smooth it away from her forehead and found herself staring intently at Missy's sweet face. She resembled her mother mostly, but Johnny was there, too - in her eyes and in her smile. A sudden stab of fear shot through Joanne's soul. My God, I don't know if I can give her up. She held the baby close and closed her eyes, trying to come to grips with the unexpected flare of possessive jealousy.

"Mom? Mom, you okay?"

Joanne opened her eyes to see Chris staring at her, a worried look on his young face. She dug down and found a smile to give him. "Yes, son, I'm fine. Are you guys about done there?"

"Almost," Jenny informed her, plopping a lump of dough on to the sheet with a flourish. "This is the last batch. We just have to wait for them to cook."

"Well, that works out great," Joanne told them. "That gives us time to have a little talk before they're done."

* * *

He lay on the soft bed, willing the tension out of his muscles. He couldn't let his body betray him. He had to enjoy this. He didn't want to be punished again... he couldn't take any more punishment.

Will you play with me, Johnny? I don't want to hurt you. I don't like to hurt you. I like it better when you play. You play so well. Not like those others. They wouldn't play at all. That's why I had to keep punishing them. I had to show them. Are you going to play today? Are you going to have fun? It'll be much better if you have fun, too.

Hands... hands on his body. Soft and caressing... so different than the ones that made him hurt. It was his choice. He could hurt or he could feel good... and the hurting was so god damn bad... and this... this was so different... so intoxicating... he could get used to feeling like this... and then he realized his body had betrayed him, but in an entirely unexpected way.

Oh, Johnny, you are having fun... you're such a good boy. You deserve a reward for that.

The hands again... so skilled, so expert... and he felt so good... It was wrong... he knew that... but he couldn't help it. He wanted those hands to go on forever... almost cried out when they left... but then came the soft, warm mouth... and he screamed, not sure if it was from pleasure or shame.

Johnny's eyes flew open, the pillow in his mouth the only thing that kept him from screaming out. He rolled onto his back, then sat up, his breath coming in great heaving gasps.

It was just a dream... it was only a god damn dream... it doesn't mean anything... it didn't happen again... it can't happen again...

But as he shifted on the bed, he felt the tell tale stickiness that couldn't be denied. With an inward groan, he dropped his head into his hands.

What kind of a sick son of a bitch are you? Do you miss him that much? You want him back? You wanna be with him again? Dreaming of him like a horny teenager...

He lurched to his feet and made it over to the dresser to grab clean clothes. He wanted to shower... to clean the filth off of him, but he couldn't let anyone know. Nobody could ever know.

He stepped into the hall and stood listening. He couldn't hear anyone downstairs, but the door to Roy and Joanne's room was open. The only sound from there was Roy's familiar snoring. Thankful his friend was asleep, Johnny made his way to the hall bathroom and closed the door behind him.

He stood leaning against the door for a time, his breathing still faster than it should be. Before he pushed away, he fumbled behind himself and turned the lock. He then reached into the curtain and started the shower.

He stripped off his t-shirt, not caring when the quick movement made him wince with discomfort. He didn't care. He deserved it. He undid his jeans and peeled pants and shorts off in the same movement, holding the wall for support. As he tossed them into a heap, his stomach suddenly heaved, and he fell to the floor, jarring his knee painfully, as he lost most of his lunch into the toilet bowl.

The bout of retching lasted a few agonizing moments. When his stomach at last quieted, he reached a trembling hand up to flush, then sank to the floor, his knees drawn up close. Great, wrenching sobs were tearing out of his throat and he stuffed his discarded shirt up to his mouth to stifle the noise. He couldn't let Roy hear him. Roy would try and find out what was wrong. And Roy could never know.

* * *

Roy wasn't sure what woke him, but he opened his eyes and sat up, feeling much better than he had all day. He got up to use the bathroom. When he came out into the hall he could smell the tempting aroma of Joanne's roast. He could also hear the muted sound of the kids. The fact that they hadn't come up and pounced on him meant they were under orders from their mother to keep the noise down and let Dad and Uncle Johnny sleep.

Roy moved over to Chris' room and rapped lightly on the door.

"Johnny?" he called softly, and pushed the door open slightly. If his partner were still sleeping, he didn't want to startle him.

The sun had set, but there was still some light in the room, enough to see Johnny sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall. His right leg was pulled up and he appeared to be rubbing his injured knee.

"You okay?" Roy asked, coming into the room. "Is your leg bothering you?"

"I'm fine," Johnny replied evenly. "I just bumped it."

"You need me to look at it?"

Johnny shook his head. "I'm fine," he repeated.

Roy wasn't really convinced, but he didn't push. "Smells like dinner's ready and the kids are downstairs. You ready for that?"

He didn't hear the sigh that must have escaped Johnny, but he did see the younger man's shoulder's rise and fall before he scooted to the edge of the bed and got slowly to his feet.

"Johnny, if you're not up to this..."

"It's okay, Roy," Johnny interrupted. "I wanna see the kids. I missed 'em." There was no mistaking the wistful tone.

"Well, they certainly missed you," Roy stated.

They'd reached the door now and Roy could see the slight smile on Johnny's face as the light from the hall reached them. Roy frowned, however, at the more pronounced limp as Johnny walked.

"You sure you don't need me to check your leg out?"

Johnny still shook his head stubbornly. "There's nothin' you can do," he insisted. "It'll calm down in a while."

Roy backed off, but he made sure he was there to offer his arm as they walked downstairs. He still kept an eye on his partner. He didn't like Johnny's color and the circles under the younger man's eyes were darker than they had been before. The dark haired paramedic didn't look any better for his few hours nap, in fact, he looked more pale and drawn than he had this morning. In spite of Roy's worries, Johnny kept a tight grip on the banister and managed the trip without assistance.

Roy supposed he would always remember the image of his children as they lifted their heads and saw Johnny for the first time. Chris was sitting on the floor, his math workbook open on the coffee table, his pencil tapping absently on his leg as he worked out a problem in his head. Jenny was lying on her stomach on the couch, a book open in front of her. Without even looking, Roy knew it would be Nancy Drew. His daughter had discovered the series last fall and had been hooked ever since.

As if on cue, Jenny and Chris looked up at the same time as Roy and Johnny entered the living room. Before Johnny's disappearance, both children would have jumped to their feet and launched themselves at both their father and uncle. The air would have been filled with exuberant chatter about their day, Chris' upcoming baseball season, Jenny's newest best friend. Roy watched his son and daughter now, as they stood hesitant, unsure how to proceed, their faces filled with both the sorrow of the last year and a half, as well as the fear of what would happen next.

Johnny had stopped as well, his expression one of regret. Roy was unsure himself what to do or say. The last thing he wanted was for the kids or Johnny to feel uncomfortable with each other. It was Jenny herself, though, who finally took the first step. She walked over to Roy and put an arm around his waist.

"Hi, Daddy," she said softly, her eyes never leaving Johnny's face.

"Hi, sweetheart," Roy answered, letting his arm rest on her shoulders. He glanced over at Chris, who stood twisting his pencil in his hands. "Hey, pal," he greeted, trying to put his son at ease.

"Hi, Dad," Chris answered, one hand lifting in a nervous wave.

Just when Roy felt he was going to have to say something, Jenny finally reached out to touch Johnny's hand.

"Hi, Uncle Johnny," she whispered, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

And Johnny smiled. "Hey, Jenny Bean."

That was all it took. Jenny left Roy's side to wrap her arms around Johnny's waist, her face buried against his shirt. In an instant, Chris was at Johnny's other side. Johnny had one arm around Jenny, but when he tried to put his other around Chris, his bad leg wouldn't hold. He teetered a moment, until Roy stepped in, grabbing his partner's arm to help support him.

"Whoa, there," Roy chuckled as the kids reluctantly pulled away. "Why don't you guys have your reunion sitting down. That'll be easier on everybody."

He made to guide Johnny to the couch, but the kids each took one of their uncle's arms.

"We'll help him, Daddy," Jennifer informed her father.

"Yeah, Dad," Chris agreed. "Me and Jen can do it."

Roy was concerned that Johnny would feel awkward, but he saw that his partner was smiling widely as he let the kids lead him to sit on the couch, where they each took a spot on either side of him. The kids were doing most of the talking, something Johnny seemed content with.

Roy stood and watched for a few moments until he was certain they were doing okay, then he stuck his head into the kitchen to motion for Joanne to come out. Missy was sitting in her high chair making a mess out of a banana. She held out sticky hands when she saw Roy.

"Ba-pa!" she called excitedly, and banged her hands on the tray. She hadn't been able to master the first "P" in Papa, something that always made Chris and Jenny laugh.

"I'll get her," Roy told Joanne. "You need to take a peek out there." He gestured toward the living room.

Joanne flashed him a smile, and walked over to the entryway. Roy wiped off Missy's hands and face, got her out of the high chair and set her down. She immediately tottered toward Joanne, then wiggled her way past.

"Missy... wait..."

He started to go after her, but Joanne stopped him. "Hang on, Roy. Let her go. We can't hide her forever."

Roy stood and watched with apprehension as Melissa made her way over to the group on the couch. The paramedic had to smile. She was a lot like her dad; she never wanted to be left out of anything.

"Nenny, Nenny..." the toddler called as she grabbed hold of her sister's leg and hugged it.

Jennifer glanced down at the baby, then over at her parents, a look of uncertainty on her face. Roy assumed Joanne had told the kids not to say anything yet about Melissa. He walked forward, ready to rescue Jennifer, when Johnny reached down and picked the infant up and set her on his lap.

Roy felt a stab of panic that he fought to keep off his face. He made himself sit down in the recliner as Johnny introduced himself to Missy.

"Hi there, sweetpea," he said softly. "I haven't met you yet."

Missy was watching him, her dark eyes wide as she tried to size up the man holding her. She was not generally afraid of strangers, so Roy didn't think she'd cry, but he wasn't ready for the reaction she had.

"Da-da," she gurgled as she reached up and grabbed Johnny's long hair.

Both Chris and Jenny's eyes grew wide and Roy's mouth went dry as he remembered the countless times he'd pointed out Johnny's pictures to her, calling him Daddy. She had never tried to say the word, much less ever seen Johnny in person to identify him with the man in the photos.

He swallowed, prepared to explain, when he felt Joanne's hand squeeze his shoulder. He glanced up at her and she shook her head, then gestured to Johnny.

The younger man was grinning as he unwound his hair from the baby's fingers. He didn't appear to have picked up on the tension in the DeSoto family. He glanced over at Roy.

"This one's a little confused," he said, with a small chuckle. He turned back to Missy. "There's your daddy," he told her and set her down.

"Da-da," she repeated and laughed as she banged her hand on Johnny's leg.

Still smiling, Johnny shook his head. "You're gonna have to stay home more, Pally," he said in such a normal "Johnny" tone, that Roy felt tears spring into his eyes.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I guess so."

Joanne rescued them by calling everyone to dinner. As they walked to the table, Jenny began explaining to Johnny how Missy called Roy Papa, only she couldn't say it right yet. As he listened to his daughter, Roy's thoughts were churning.

You have to tell him. The longer you wait, the harder it will be. But I couldn't do it in front of the kids. That wasn't the time or place. Maybe tomorrow when Chris and Jen are at school...

"Roy?"

Joanne's voice brought him back. "Yeah, hon?"

"I asked if you could get the platter down for me."

"Oh, sure."

Dinner went without further incident. The kids seemed to have perked Johnny up, and he actually ate fairly well. He talked with them some and seemed genuinely interested in all the news of their lives they caught him up on.

"... and I'm playing first base this year," Chris was saying. "It's my last year in Little League, though, so I won't have Coach Peterson after this."

"But when you're in Junior High, you can try out for the school team," Johnny pointed out. His voice was still quiet, but at least he was participating. Roy was glad for that.

"Yeah, if I make it," Chris replied, doubt sounding loud and clear. "Most of the guys are bigger 'n me."

"You'll grow," Roy pointed out. "You wait and see how much difference this summer makes."

"Are you gonna come with us to Disneyland, Uncle Johnny?" Jenny asked suddenly.

Johnny glanced at Roy, then turned back to Jennifer. "I don't know if I can, Jenny Bean. I don't know if I can walk that much yet."

Jenny's face fell in disappointment for a moment, then she brightened. "We can rent a wheelchair. Kristy Chambers family did that when her grandma came to visit."

"I don't know, Jen..." Johnny hedged.

"Jennifer," Joanne spoke up. "That's something we'll have to wait and see."

Jenny sighed heavily. "Okay, I just wanted to make sure Uncle Johnny has some fun."

Johnny's glass slipped from his hand, spilling milk over the table. Everyone pushed back from their chairs and in the mad rush to clean it up, Roy noticed that what little color Johnny had was suddenly gone.

* * *

Johnny sat in the dark in Chris' bedroom. He could hear the boy's even breathing and knew he was sound asleep. The whole house had been quiet for some time. The kids had gone to bed around 9:00 and then about 10:30, Roy and Joanne had talked about being tired. Johnny came upstairs when they did, but he didn't want to go to sleep.

He was tired - so very tired, but he was afraid to close his eyes. He didn't want to be there again. He couldn't go through that again.

He had tried to forget, had even pretended to forget. Being with the kids had helped and for a while he almost could forget. But Jennifer's choice of words had brought it all back, and he couldn't get the voice out of his head.

Let's have some fun, Johnny. I want you to have fun, Johnny.

He clapped his hands to his ears, but it didn't stop that voice.

You're not like those others, Johnny. They didn't want to have fun. Not like you. You're the most fun I've ever had.

Johnny raised his knees and let his head rest on them in defeat. He would never be rid of that voice, never be free from the memories of what had been done to him - what he had allowed to happen to him.

He wasn't even aware that he dozed off until he jerked his head up, suddenly awake. He sat there for a moment, trying to place what had startled him.

There it was again - a distant whimper. Not yet a full-blown cry, but definitely a baby waking up. He waited a moment, expecting Roy or Joanne to walk past his room, but he heard no footsteps.

The fussing grew a little louder and Johnny got up off the bed. He needed something to keep him awake anyway and there was no reason for anyone else to ruin their sleep.

He pulled on the pajama bottoms he had discarded at the foot of the bed and padded down the hall to what had been the guestroom. It was completely changed now, full of baby things that were dominated by the crib against the far wall.

Missy was standing holding onto the rail. Her dark hair was wild around her face and her eyes were big with tears.

"Hey, big girl," he greeted in a whisper. "What's wrong?"

She held out her arms for him, and he automatically reached down and lifted her out of the crib. She was still fussing some and Johnny soon realized she was wet.

"Well, I'd be cryin' too," he murmured. "Let's get you changed."

He bounced her a little as he moved over to the changing table and looked for diapers. Fortunately, he found a package of disposables. He wasn't sure if he could handle cloth and pins. He lay Missy down and unsnapped her pajamas, pulling off the wet bottoms. In a few moments, he had a dry diaper on her. He didn't know where Joanne kept dry pj's, so he just left the top on her and picked her back up.

He held her on his shoulder, and she didn't seem to mind. She laid her head down and snuffled a few times before sighing sleepily. Johnny began to walk around the room, absently patting the baby's back.

The night light was bright enough that he could see some of the decor in the room. Teddy Bears and hearts seemed predominate. On one wall there was a group of shelves with a lot of photos, and Johnny moved closer, expecting to see baby pictures of Missy. But they weren't, and he stopped his movements, staring at the snapshots in confusion.

That's me... that's my picture... that one is too... and my old medals... and mom and dad... how did they get that one? Why do they have these all here?

His eyes moved around the room, trying to put the pieces together. His gaze paused at the crib and he peered closer.

A dream catcher... damn, that's my dream catcher from my room... the one mom made before she died... why would they put that here?

He turned back to the items on the shelves and went over all of them again. He recognized the photo Chet had taken with his camera, the trophy they'd won at the barbershop contest. His gaze lifted and he saw a helmet hanging on wall, a paramedic helmet. He reached out to let his fingers brush against it, almost afraid to touch it. And then his gaze dropped and he spied the one, small shot of himself and Kathy slightly behind some of the others and everything came together in thundering realization.

Da-da... she called me Da-da... They adopted her... but she's mine... she's mine...

He stared down at the sleeping infant and brought his free hand to cup the back of her dark head in wonderment.

My God... she's mine...

"Johnny?"

He turned to see Roy standing in the doorway and for an instant felt a flash of anger at his friend.

You weren't gonna tell me... you have my baby and you weren't gonna tell me...

But it was gone as quick as it came. He knew Roy would never do anything to hurt him. How could anyone ever know that he would come back from Hell. His shoulders sagged as he realized that this little girl wasn't really his... could never be his. She would always be Roy and Joanne's.

"Johnny?" Roy walked into the room. "Johnny, I'm sorry you found out this way. This wasn't how I wanted to tell you. I was waiting for a better time... hell, it just never seemed to be the right time. I'm so sorry."

Roy's voice had increased in volume enough that Missy lifted her head from Johnny's shoulder. She suddenly realized that she was in the arms of a stranger while her Papa was standing right beside her. She reached for Roy and leaned out of Johnny's arms.

"Ba-pa," she cried and Roy had no choice but to take the baby.

Johnny watched as she snuggled against his partner, obviously feeling safe and secure, and he couldn't stand there and watch any longer. His eyes had filled, making it hard to see as he moved past Roy and out the door. He heard Roy call after him, but he ignored it as he stumbled down the stairs.

* * *

Joanne stopped just in time to avoid being bowled into by Johnny as he rushed past her and made his way awkwardly down the stairs. She heard Roy call after him and turned to see her husband, standing at the nursery door, Missy in his arms. His face was full of self-recrimination and anguish. It didn't take much to figure out what had happened.

"Let me talk to him," Joanne told Roy. What she didn't say was that Roy was the last person Johnny needed right now to talk to him about Kathy. "Put Missy back to bed for me, okay?"

Roy nodded mutely, and Joanne knew him well enough to guess that he was actually glad she was taking this responsibility. She went back to her room and threw on her robe, then trotted downstairs.

She didn't see Johnny in the living room, but as she was headed to the kitchen, she spotted him sitting hunched over on the deck. Knowing it could get cool at night, she grabbed the afghan off the back of the couch before she walked outside.

She lay the afghan over Johnny's thinly clad shoulders, then sat down on the deck beside him. He didn't acknowledge her, but he did grab the ends of the crocheted blanket and pull then together around himself.

They sat together in silence for a time. Johnny was staring at a spot somewhere across the yard. There were no tears, but Joanne would rather have dealt with that than the aura of emptiness that emanated from the man.

"Where is she?"

Johnny's voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

"She moved to St. Louis about six months ago. She couldn't deal with all the emotional turmoil here."

"Does she have contact with Missy?"

"Not much," Joanne told him reluctantly. "She started out with good intentions, but I think it was easier to just cut the ties."

His head lowered at that.

"Johnny... I don't know if this helps any... but it wasn't an easy decision for her. She made sure Missy would be with us. I don't know if she would have done it if we couldn't take her." Joanne put a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, but only slightly and he allowed her hand to stay. "She wasn't ready to be a mother, let alone a single mother. It was better for Missy this way. I don't want you to hate her."

Johnny turned to look at her, his eyes dispirited. "I don't hate her, Jo." His voice was weary. "I used to think I loved her. Maybe I did." He returned his gaze to the yard, but Joanne knew that wasn't what he was seeing. "I used to think about her a lot... wonder what she was doing and thinking... if she was waiting for me..." His voice trailed off and he folded his arms on top of his knees and rested his head there. "I haven't thought about her in a long time." He sighed. "I don't know what that means, Jo. I'm not sure I know what anything means anymore."

There was such a sense of giving up in his last sentence that Joanne felt what Roy always called alarm bells going off.

"Johnny, listen to me," she told him firmly. He shifted so that one eye was looking at her. She took that as enough for now. "You can reclaim your life. All you have to do is try. And Missy is still your daughter. You know Roy and I would never do anything to keep her from you."

"She doesn't even know me," he said, and Joanne heard the slight catch in his voice. "How can I take her away from you guys? You're all she knows. I couldn't do that to her... or to you."

"I'm not saying it'll be easy," Joanne countered. "And it's not like it's going to happen tomorrow." Joanne smiled at him. "You need time to figure out what you're doing... to put your life back together. Take that time for you and Missy. Get to know her and let her get to know you. You're lucky, Johnny... she's just a baby. You have the time."

"I don't know, Joanne," he whispered. He shivered and drew the afghan tighter. "Everything is so mixed up right now and I'm tired... I'm so tired." He let his head fall to his knees again.

She put her arm around his shoulders at the same time he leaned against her. She could feel his trembling, hear his ragged breaths that told her he was crying. She held onto him while he let it out, her own tears dripping down to land in his dark hair.

* * *

Friday

Hank Stanley stood in front of his men and handed out the day's duty assignments. It was Mike's turn to cook, Marco had the dorms, Roy and Brad would take care of the kitchen and day room. Chet, as usual, was in the doghouse and had drawn latrine duty.

The captain used this time every morning to size up the mood of his crew. It was a habit he'd gotten into after Gage had disappeared, and he'd just kept doing it after everything had seemed to settle down.

Mike was silent, but there was nothing out of the ordinary about that. His engineer had gone through some tough months, working through some of the guilt he felt about the incident. But that pretty much seemed in the past now. Stoker seldom mentioned the incident, but then, Mike seldom talked about anything that didn't relate to fire fighting. Hank didn't worry too much about him.

Lopez was the most open when it came to talking about Johnny. He would start reminiscing at the drop of a hat, even though at first it made everyone else uncomfortable. But as the months had worn on, either Marco grew more aware of their feelings, or else the rest of them just grew less sensitive about the subject. Lopez had come through pretty well and still performed his usual good job.

Chet had been hit hard. For the first few months, he had nothing good to say about the police and their investigation, making bitter, cynical comments whenever anyone talked about it. The Phantom apparently had retired permanently. He had not made an appearance since John was taken. Even now, Chet would usually leave the room if Gage's name was even brought up. But Kelly, too, was a professional and could be counted on to do his job.

Brad Martin was Roy's current partner. He'd been with A shift for about five months. He was a nice enough guy and an excellent paramedic, but Hank was a little concerned that he hadn't really clicked yet with the rest of the crew, Roy in particular. It wasn't Martin's fault. Hank wasn't sure if anyone would be able to find their niche with A shift; not with the specter of John Gage hanging over the station like the bloody ghost of Christmas past.

It might have been different if John had died in a fire, given his life to the beast. Firemen had been doing that since the occupation had been invented, and other firemen had been able to cope with that, grieve and move on. But Gage's fate was still so unresolved. Though most people, Hank included, assumed that John was dead, no body had been found yet. John Gage was still listed as missing with the Police Department, and as inactive with the Fire Department. His friends and co-workers had not been able to go through the normal grieving process and therefore were still uncomfortable about considering anyone a permanent replacement.

Of all his men, though, Hank had worried most about Roy. Not only was he John's partner and closest friend, but the man had also suffered at the hands of the sick bastard who took his friend; he'd had to watch as John was taken away, and apparently in some bizarre trade the younger man had made to spare his friend's life.

When Roy had returned to work, Hank had watched him closely, looking for signs of strain or instability. But Roy seemed able to keep his personal feelings away from the job and had performed his duties expertly. The problems had arisen when Roy didn't seem to be able to keep a partner longer than a few months at the most.

Hank had talked with his senior paramedic many times and Roy seemed to be aware there was a problem, but Hank was at a loss here. How could you order a man to make a new friend? Roy had always apologized, promised to try and be a little more approachable, but the men still transferred out. Hank understood. Working in a firehouse was a little like a miniature family, with everyone finding their role. And it was even more that way for paramedics. They were paired up constantly, almost like a married couple. No one would stay long in a partnership if they felt they weren't wanted or appreciated.

Today, as Hank studied his men, he decided things would be fine this shift. Everyone seemed to be in a fairly good mood, with only the normal griping about which chores they'd been assigned. When he got to Roy, however, Hank took note. There was something different in the paramedic's face. His whole stance seemed to be radiating anticipation. Roy had always been the more reserved of the two medics, while John was more outspoken and gregarious. It had been almost an every day occurrence for Gage to be on about something, but Roy had always been much more low key. Now, however, the older paramedic seemed almost antsy. Hank was curious, but decided to wait and question Roy in private, away from the other men.

"Okay, you've got your assignments. Remember, we've got a drill later this afternoon at the marina. If there's nothing else..."

Roy cleared his throat and Hank glanced over. "Roy? You've got something to add?"

"Well, not exactly," he began. The paramedic shifted his feet nervously and jammed his hands into his pockets.

Uh-oh, Hank thought. Here it comes. He's gonna transfer out, or finally take that promotion he's deserved for years. I'm surprised he waited this long.

"Guys... um... I wanted to let you know. I, uh, I got a call from Crockett Wednesday morning..."

Aw, shit! Hank felt his shoulders sag. They found the body. Why else would Crockett call? He let his eyes rove over the group of men. Except for Martin, everyone's faces wore looks of apprehension. They were all expecting the grim news.

But Roy's face didn't looked grief stricken. If anything, there was a suppressed excitement about him. As Hank watched, a smiled started on the paramedic's face.

"Johnny's alive."

There was an instant of stunned silence and then chaos broke loose. Hank stood unable to move for a moment, listening to the rapid fire questions and watching as his men pressed closer and closer until Roy was in danger of being bowled over. The captain finally pulled himself together enough to restore order. He put his fingers to his mouth and let loose an ear splitting whistle. It was enough to bring silence and the men's attention.

"Okay, you twits, let the man talk." He caught Roy's eye and motioned him toward the day room. "Let's adjourn to some place where we can do this sitting down."

A half an hour later found them all still sitting around the table marveling at the story Roy had told them. Of course, there were gaps and lots of questions unanswered. Roy couldn't tell them exactly how Johnny had escaped, and he had been more than a little vague about his partner's condition.

"So what happened to the guy?" Chet asked. "Is he gonna start stalking firefighters again?"

Roy rubbed a spot on the table distractedly. "Johnny hasn't really felt up to talking about it much. I know Crockett wants to get a statement from him, but..." Roy paused and glanced briefly at his shift mates. "You gotta understand, guys... Johnny's been through hell for a long time. He's still pretty upset."

They were quiet for a moment, each man pondering just what kind of hell their friend might have experienced. Hank recalled the autopsy findings on the other men and had to repress a shudder. He took a sip of his long cold coffee and set it down again.

"So... you think he's gonna be able to get over this?" he asked.

The emotion that flashed across the paramedic's face sent a cold feeling into Hank's gut. Roy was worried about that very thing.

"I don't know, Cap," he answered in a low voice. "I hope to God he can..."

But... the word was hanging there unsaid.

"Well, why don't we all go see him after this shift?" Marco suggested. "That oughta cheer him up."

The others chimed in their agreement, but Roy broke in and put a stop to their plans.

"That's not such a good idea right now."

"Aw, come on, Roy," Chet argued. "You know how much Gage thrives on attention. We'll show up and bring him some doughnuts... I'll even let him have the jelly ones, and then..."

"No!" Roy's forceful tone brought them all up short. The paramedic flushed and looked back down at the table. "I'm sorry, guys. I know you mean well and you're anxious to see him..."

Roy was decidedly uncomfortable now and Hank knew it was time he stepped in. He brought his hands down on the table.

"Hey, we gotta trust Roy on this. If John isn't up to visitors yet, we'll just have to wait. Right, guys?" He glanced around at his crew. They each nodded agreement, even Kelly. "Great. Then whaddya say we get to work. We've got a busy day ahead of us."

They pushed away from the table, visibly subdued. It was such wonderful news, but it was also disturbing to have to wonder what had happened during all the time John was gone. Hank stood and let his hand come to rest on Roy's shoulder. The paramedic glanced up from the table.

"Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

Roy smiled his gratitude. "I will, Cap. I'll keep everybody updated." He got up and followed Martin into the apparatus bay to check out the squad.

Hank stood for a moment, amazed at how different this day had turned out to be. He stared at the empty chairs and wondered if someday he might have his whole crew back sitting here. Certainly if John could get himself into the physical shape needed to do the job, Headquarters wouldn't quibble about assigning him here. Not if Hank had anything to say about it.

A sudden commotion in the bay drew Hank out of his musings. It had the unmistakable ring of a fight, and he pushed through the door and rushed around the end of the squad. What he saw made his heart sink.

Roy and Brad were in the midst of a struggle on the floor, their paramedic equipment scattered around them. Roy was getting the upper hand, while Brad looked like it was all he could do to fend off his outraged partner. What made it worse was that the rest of the crew was standing around, rooting for Roy to pummel the younger man.

Damn it! After all this time... they explode now!

"All right, all right! Knock this off!"

Hank stepped up and tried to separate the two combatants. Roy was obviously incensed about something and wasn't willing to listen to reason. The captain looked at his other men.

"Stoker, Kelly, get in here and help me. Lopez, get Brad outta there."

Hank reached down and grabbed Roy's arm. With Mike's help they managed to pull Roy away enough that Marco could help Brad scramble out of reach. Roy was still struggling to get loose.

"DeSoto! Knock it off now!"

Roy finally stopped, his face flushed, his uniform in disarray. He was bleeding from a small cut on his lip. He stood panting, his fists still balled up, glaring daggers at his partner.

Brad had gotten the worst end of it. His eye was going to be black and blue, and Marco had retrieved a rag and was holding it to the man's nose.

Hank took a moment to catch his breath. Then he regarded both his paramedics.

"What in the hell is going on here?" he demanded harshly.

"He was making snide remarks..." Chet tried to explain, but Hank made a chopping gesture.

"When I want you to talk, Kelly, I'll ask you." He fixed his gaze on Roy. "You wanna tell me what this is all about?"

Roy was still glowering at Brad. "He needs to learn to keep his mouth shut," the senior paramedic answered hotly.

"It was just a joke," Brad broke in, his voice slightly muffled by the rag at his nose. "God, DeSoto, can't you tell a joke when you hear one?"

"It was a sorry excuse for a joke," Chet started, but fell silent as Hank shot him another look.

"All right, both of you... in my office." He glanced at the rest of the crew. "Don't you guys have work to do?" They instantly dispersed.

Hank followed his men into his office and shut the door. He turned to stare at the paramedics. Roy was standing by the window. Brad had taken a seat across from the desk. Neither man was looking at the other. Hank sighed and moved over to take his seat.

"I don't have to tell you both that you can be suspended for fighting. I don't think either of you wants that, so let's see if we can work out this little problem."

"It's not my problem," Martin declared defensively. "DeSoto's the one who..."

Hank held up his hand to silence the younger man. "Let's not start pointing fingers. Just tell me what happened. Brad?"

The younger paramedic glanced over at Roy, then back at Hank. "I was just kidding around... to lighten everybody up, ya know?"

"Well, I can't say for sure, but I don't think it had quite the effect you were looking for," Hank observed dryly. "What exactly did you say?"

Martin swallowed, then shrugged uncomfortably. "I... uh, I was just saying something about how Gage musta... uh, he musta spent the last year grabbin' his ankles..." His voice grew low with embarrassment. "It was just a joke, ya know. 'Cause of what happened to those other guys..." He trailed off.

Roy was standing to Hank's side, but the captain could still see the paramedic's fists clench tightly. Hank himself had to fight down a surge of fury. He had to deal with this calmly, to keep the situation diffused. He laced his fingers and leaned forward, keeping his voice deliberately low. He didn't need the other guys hearing him blow his stack.

"Now you listen to me, Martin," he began, taking a small amount of pleasure in watching the young man blanch at his captain's tone. "That has got to be the most uncalled for and insensitive remark I have ever heard. Not just to John Gage, but to the memory of those firefighters who were murdered. If I'd been out there, I probably woulda punched you."

"Cap... I... I didn't mean..."

"I know you didn't," Hank agreed. "Which is why I'm not going to report this, but you understand one thing... I will not tolerate any more talk of that nature. When John comes back to work, he's going to need the support of this entire department. What he won't need is to become the butt of crude jokes. You got that?"

The younger paramedic nodded silently.

"All right." Hank looked at Roy. "Now, do you two think you can finish out the shift?"

"Yes, sir," Brad answered quickly.

"DeSoto" Hank prompted when Roy didn't respond.

Roy shot a glance at his partner, then gave a curt nod.

"Okay. That's the end of it. Martin, you go out and start cleaning up the mess you two made of your equipment. Roy, stay here. I wanna talk to you."

Hank got up and opened the door for Brad, who walked out without a backward glance. Hank shut the door after him and turned to face his senior paramedic.

"You know, you may hear that kind of talk when word gets around that Gage is back."

Roy nodded, but kept his gaze focused outside.

Hank sighed and sat back down at his desk. "I can't say I blame you for laying into him, but you can't lose control, Roy. It won't help John, and it will only get you into trouble."

Roy finally turned from the window, his face contrite. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's just been hard. That bastard left him in pieces, Cap. It's gonna take him a long time to pull himself back together. And then to hear a piece of shit remark like that..." Roy shook his head. "I just lost it."

Hank nodded his understanding. "Just try and hang tough, pal," he encouraged.

Roy nodded his thanks and left the office. Hank rubbed at his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

So much for a good day.

* * *

"Your breakfast is getting cold," Joanne pointed out as she cleaned up the rest of the dishes. Johnny hadn't come down until after Roy and the kids were gone, so he was the last to eat.

"I know," he mumbled as he moved the scrambled eggs around on his plate. "I'm just not that hungry."

"Dr. Brackett said you need to eat," she reminded him gently, not really wanting to badger him.

He heaved a resigned sigh and shoved a forkful into his mouth. Satisfied, Joanne turned back to the sink. Just as she stuck her hands in the soapy water, she heard Missy bang on her high chair tray, clamoring for more Cheerios. Joanne turned part way around.

"Johnny, could you give her some?" she asked.

"Sure." He reached for the box on the table, and Joanne returned to the dishes.

"Hey, Jo, can she have eggs?"

"Some," she replied as she rinsed off the silverware. "If you can get her to eat any. I haven't had much luck."

She finished up, leaving the water for Johnny's plate and glass. She dried her hands and turned around to see how much progress he'd made on his breakfast, when she stopped, smiling at the scene before her.

Johnny had shifted closer to the high chair. His plate was in front of him and he was doing his best to get scrambled egg into his daughter's mouth. Missy was having great fun grabbing at the spoon. As a result, there was more egg scattered on the tray and on the floor than had probably ended up in either Missy or Johnny.

Joanne put her hands on her hips. "Those eggs were for you," she scolded, but the effect was ruined by the laugh that followed it.

"Sorry." Johnny looked so contrite that Joanne hurried to let him know she was teasing.

"Don't worry about it," she told him. "How 'bout I just make you some toast?"

"Okay," he answered meekly.

There's no spirit left in him, Joanne realized and she felt her jaw clench in anger as she put the bread in the toaster. She had to work at calming herself down while she poured a small glass of orange juice and set it in front of Johnny. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was mad at him.

"I... I didn't really want any juice," Johnny said.

"But it's on the list," Joanne told him firmly, then smiled. "It helps your body absorb the iron pills anyway."

Johnny frowned slightly, but lifted the glass and took a drink. Joanne buttered his toast and set it in front of him, encouraged when he picked up a piece and took a bite. She moved over to clean up the mess around the high chair.

Missy had ended up with the spoon and was busy scooting Cheerios around with it, sending little cereal circles to join the egg on the floor. Joanne shook her head in exasperation and took the spoon out of the little girl's hand. Immediately, Missy let out a noisy wail of protest.

"None of that now, little Miss." She gave the baby a quick tickle under her chin before she got out the broom and began sweeping up the mess on the floor. When she was done, she put the broom away on the service porch. Coming back into the kitchen, she found Johnny wiping off the table.

"You didn't have to do that," she told him as she came up beside him and gave his arm a squeeze.

He gave her a slight smile. "Why not? It's a Gage mess, so a Gage can clean..." He paused and lifted an eyebrow. "Is she a Gage?" he asked cautiously.

"Kathy made sure she put Gage on the birth certificate, and your name, too, so you're official. When we filled out the papers with the attorney..." Joanne hesitated, remembering how long she and Roy had agonized over the decisions they'd made. "Well, we didn't want her to feel different than Chris or Jenny, so we added DeSoto... but we left Gage in. I guess technically she's hyphenated. Gage-DeSoto." Joanne trailed off, wishing she knew what he was feeling, but he'd shut down and his face was unreadable.

He gave the table a few more half hearted swipes, then he took his plate with his partially eaten toast to the sink. He dumped the food into the trash and let the plate slip into the soapy water.

"Is the adoption final yet?" he asked without turning around.

Joanne moved over to his side. "Not officially. It takes a year. We got the final papers in the mail last week. There's a hearing scheduled for the end of the month. We just have to see the judge and hand everything in..." She glanced over at Missy, who seemed to be watching both adults intently. Seeing Joanne looking at her, the baby smiled widely and let loose a string of happy babbling. Joanne felt the sting of tears and forced them back. "Johnny... naturally, since you're home, we won't complete the process."

"No, Joanne..." He turned to face her. "You should go through with it. She has a happy life here with all of you... she's part of a family. You and Roy... well, I've always thought you guys were the greatest parents." He let his gaze move to take in Missy and a sad smile played on his lips. "I can't take her away from this."

Joanne suddenly lost her patience. "John Gage, now you listen to me and stop talking nonsense... Melissa is your daughter and you are her family. She deserves to have her father... her real father be a part of her life. Besides..." She smiled and reached out to take hold of his hand. "Who says you're taking her away from us? For right now you're both here. And when you get on your feet and go back to work, you're going to need a babysitter... right?"

Johnny stared at her for a long moment, then one corner of his mouth twisted up in a half smile. "Maybe," was all he would say. He turned back to wash his dishes.

Joanne blew out a sigh of frustration. She left Johnny to finish at the sink and walked over to let Missy down from the high chair.

"Look at you, Missy Jo, you have egg in your hair."

Joanne picked out the bits of egg from the wiggling toddler. When she came over to dump the crumbs in the trash, she couldn't help but giggle.

"What's wrong?" Johnny asked as he turned to see what she was laughing at.

Joanne reached up to pick the egg out of Johnny's dark hair. "You two are a pair," she chuckled.

Johnny flushed with embarrassment and pulled a few stray locks forward to inspect them. As Joanne watched him, she was struck with an idea.

"Why don't you let me cut your hair?" she suggested.

Johnny's hand flew to his head and his eyes widened. "Wha... why... why cut it?" he stammered.

Despite his reaction, Joanne felt inspired to persist. "Oh, Johnny, it's so much easier to take care of it shorter. The baby won't pull it as much." She patted her own short hair and laughed. "Why do you think I've never let mine grow long? Besides, you'll have to cut it before you go back to work anyway."

Johnny's face grew uncertain. "You really think I can go back to work?"

"Of course," Joanne hastened to assure him. "Let me get my stuff and do it now, before you shower."

She flew upstairs to retrieve her tools before he had a chance to change his mind. She'd started trimming Roy's hair when they were first married and poor as dirt, and she'd just kept on doing it over the years, adding the children to her list as they grew older. Roy sometimes teased her that it really only saved a few dollars a month, but Joanne still insisted on doing it.

She grabbed a towel and the box that held the clippers and scissors and trotted back down. She found Johnny still in the kitchen, looking extremely nervous. Joanne set her things on the table. She went into the living room and pulled Missy's playpen to the entryway and set the baby inside so she could watch but not get into the hair that landed on the floor.

"Ready?" she asked, as she pulled out a chair and motioned Johnny to sit.

He sat stiffly in the straight backed chair. Roy and Chris usually took off their shirts for this, but she knew better than to even ask. Roy had told her how badly scarred he was. She settled for draping the old towel over his tensed shoulders.

"Relax, Johnny," she encouraged. "It's just a hair cut. I'll make it the way it was when... well, the length you've always worn it." She hoped she'd covered her blunder, but he hadn't seemed to notice. He was staring at his lap, his hands clutching the sides of the chair.

He jerked once when she first started cutting, but after that he was still. She tried to keep up a conversation, but soon gave it up and just concentrated on what she was doing. He had different hair than either Roy or Chris. Their hair was straight, and while Chris' was thicker than Roy's, neither could rival Johnny's.

It took her a while. She wanted to be sure and do a good job. She purposefully left it a little longer than she remembered it being, sticking to the old adage that you could always go shorter, but you could never go longer. Occasionally, as some of the locks fell into his lap, Joanne could see Johnny fingering them, but he didn't protest.

At last she was done. She brushed him off and removed the towel.

"There you are," she announced and handed him the small mirror. "A brand new start."

She watched in apprehension, praying she hadn't made a mistake. He moved the mirror around to see better, then he stood up and handed it to her. He didn't say anything as he brushed some stray hairs off his pants.

"Johnny?"

He finally looked up at her and it was almost like the last eighteen months had never happened. Almost. There was still the hollowness to his face and the haunted look in his eyes.

"I'm sorry if it's not what you wanted," she apologized.

"It's fine, Jo," he told her in a quiet voice. "I'm going to go up and shower."

He had to pass the playpen to get to the stairs and as he did so, Missy looked up at him.

"Da-da, Da-da," she jabbered.

Johnny ran a hand absently over her head as he left the kitchen and headed upstairs.

Joanne watched him go, then walked over to the baby.

"He does look more like your daddy now, doesn't he?" she murmured, more to herself than to Missy.

With a sigh, she got the broom out once more and started sweeping up.