Chapter Six

It felt like it took forever to get through traffic to the University of Maryland Medical Center, even though it wasn't even a mile away from the Inner Harbor. On the ride there, Ty sat tense and silent in the seat next to the rookie he didn't know and didn't give a shit about right then. When they arrived, Ty tersely told the kid to head back to the office and that he'd pick up the keys later. Despite the rookie's stunned gape, Ty jogged inside the ER without a glance back.

He was at the information desk asking for Zane's location and status when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Grady, I'm glad to see you." McCoy stood behind him, looking somber and worn.

Ty turned in surprise, but any formal greetings to his immediate superior were lost on him. "Have you seen him, Mac? Is he okay?"

McCoy slid his hands into his pants pockets and tipped his head to one side before answering in a tired voice, "I don't know anything yet. I just got here. Where were you during all of this?"

"I was in the truck, sick from a Vicodin I took this morning," Ty answered immediately. It didn't even cross his mind to gloss it over.

McCoy's eyebrow jumped, but he didn't otherwise comment. "I've got six agents in this hospital tonight, Grady. Are you going to be able to work?" he asked bluntly.

Ty nodded jerkily. McCoy just looked at him, not breaking eye contact. "I'll do whatever you need," Ty insisted in a hoarse voice.

McCoy nodded slowly. "For right now, I need you to go home." He raised a hand when Ty opened his mouth to question him. "Seriously. You look like you just got spit out by a giant drooling dog, and I've got to muster together a group to investigate what happened."

Ty looked down at himself in consternation. He didn't look that bad. "But I can help—"

"Not when you're being targeted. I can't afford to put a team on you to protect you, so I want you off the radar. This may have been a second attempt, for all we know." He turned his chin as an agent appeared at his elbow and murmured in his ear. McCoy turned his eyes back to Ty. "All right. They're asking for you in the Shock Trauma Center. Fifth floor. Get me a status report, then go the hell home. Do not sit here with Garrett and make yourself and him a target, understood?"

"Yes, sir," Ty said mutinously. "Anything else?" He wanted to dart to the elevator and get up there as fast as he could, but he had to at least pretend he still gave a shit about the case.

"Go on," McCoy answered, nodding his head toward the elevator. Then he started talking with the other agent, who held an armful of file folders.

Ty's mind whirred the entire ride up the elevator, throwing all sorts of grim scenarios at him that he tried hard to ignore. He'd no sooner gotten to the nurses' station than he heard his name again.

"Special Agent Grady?"

Ty turned to meet the doctor who'd called his name, abject terror clogging his throat.

The doctor was a younger man despite his nearly white hair, and he projected an air of knowledge and experience around him. "I'm Dr. Jameson," he said, holding out his hand. "An agent downstairs called up to say you were on your way."

Ty shook his hand automatically, not bothering to try to be polite.

"Special Agent Garrett has you listed as his emergency contact. Does he have any family? Wife or children?" Jameson asked, his voice dropping to a tone that was probably supposed to be soothing.

Ty's mouth went completely dry, and he had to work just to swallow hard enough to get words out. "He has family in Texas," he said hoarsely.

The doctor nodded. "His next of kin will need to be notified, of course."

Ty stared at the man, trying to take in what he was implying as he felt tunnel vision threatening. It just wasn't making it through. He opened his mouth to respond but couldn't manage it.

"Special Agent Grady? Are you all right?" Jameson asked in concern. "I was told you weren't injured. Your partner will need someone with him until his family can arrive."

Ty closed his eyes and cocked his head to one side, trying to maintain control for just a little while longer. "You saying he's alive?" he managed to ask shakily.

Jameson's jaw dropped. It would have been comical under other circumstances. "I'm so sorry—I thought you'd already been informed. Special Agent Garrett is in serious but stable condition."

Ty took a deep breath and balled his hand into a fist, telling himself that throttling the doctor would get him nothing but jail time. "Can I see him?" he asked through gritted teeth, glaring at the doctor dangerously.

"Of course," the doctor said immediately, apparently realizing how upset Ty was. "This way." He turned and led the way, punching in an access code at a secure door, which he held open for Ty before leading him through a maze of bays to one only dimly lit. The doctor stopped at the entrance by the glass door. "You should have some time. We're taking him for a CT scan soon."

Ty stood at the doorway, looking in at an all-too-familiar scene. They were going to have to make a deal about staying out of hospitals for a while. It was beginning to wear on his nerves.

"Thank you," he forced out to the doctor before he moved into the darkened bay.

"He has a concussion," Jameson said. "We don't know how serious yet. He hasn't woken up, but the swelling inside his skull is already subsiding. I think he'll be okay."

"You think a lot of things, Doctor," Ty said coldly without looking away from the bed. "What do you know?"

Jameson spoke after an awkward pause. "Special Agent Garrett has a hell of a hard head," he said frankly. "I expected several skull fractures, but I only found bruising and a split scalp that we stitched up. As it is, his brain got rattled. We're focusing on trying to reduce the swelling, and my hope is that we won't find any internal bleeding. There's no evidence of any so far. That doesn't rule out other injuries or blood clots. But overall? Your partner is a very, very lucky man." With that, the doctor nodded uncomfortably when Ty glanced at him, and he left.

Ty watched him go, then looked back down at Zane with a sickening lurch of his stomach. He moved closer to the bed and leaned over him, looking at him closely. "We've done this before, Zane," he whispered to his partner. "You need to be more creative with your near- death experiences."

There was no reply. Zane lay absolutely still, the rise and fall of his chest only barely visible under the cotton gown and sheet. He was hooked up to three different IVs, and his head was wrapped in enough gauze to make a turban.

Ty gave a sniff and looked up into Zane's face again. "Fine, copycat. Don't talk to me, then. I'm not leaving," he said stubbornly as he dragged the heavy chair over from the corner of the bay and sat next to the bed. He crossed his arms over his chest and resolved to sit there until Zane woke, McCoy's orders be damned.

He was still sitting there when two orderlies arrived almost an hour later to take Zane to the CT scan.

Ty stood to the side and watched them prepare Zane to be moved. He knew they wouldn't let him go along, even if he flashed his badge around. He smelled of smoke, and his suit was damp and dirty and probably ruined. His entire body ached from head to toe, and he couldn't decipher which injuries had come from his run-in with Tank on the softball field and which ones had come from his foolhardy headlong search through the bomb debris.

He also noticed as he glanced at his reflection in the stainless steel paper towel dispenser that his face was smudged with smoke and dirt.

McCoy had been right: he looked like hell. It would do Zane no good if he woke up to find Ty sitting there looking like this.

He cleared his throat and touched one of the orderlies on the arm to get his attention. "If he wakes up, will you tell him his partner will be back?" he requested in a hoarse voice.

The orderly glanced at him, looked him up and down, and then smiled. "Sure thing."

"Thank you," Ty murmured as he gave Zane one more glance and then went to call himself a cab.

"It was him!" Pierce shouted, eyes bright with excitement.

Graham raised an eyebrow, more and more convinced that his buddy was losing his mind.

"Who was him?"

"That asshole FBI agent from the aquarium! He made me drive him to the hospital!"

"What'd he do, hold a gun to your head?" Ross asked drily.

"No," Pierce answered, sounding more excited than angry. "He just pointed at me and told me I was going to do it, and I had like this physical response where I had to do what he told me to! It was awesome!"

Graham frowned. "That doesn't sound awesome."

Hannah rolled her eyes at them all. She was beginning to grow tired of the game; Graham could tell from the constant sighs she emitted lately. Soon she'd be back under a football player from school.

"The FBI guy from TV was hot. He could tell me to do anything," she told them as she counted out stacks of money from their last robbery.

"So why is this exciting?" Graham asked, ignoring her comment. Pierce grinned manically and dug out a pair of keys from his pocket, holding them up and letting them dangle. "Because he left his keys with me."

"That was kind of stupid of him, but I still don't get it."

"He's a fucking monster—he's got to be like six and half feet tall and eats nothing but steroids and babies."

"Dude."

"He's like Moby Dick and I'm Captain Ahab," Pierce continued with relish.

"Third-year AP English," Hannah grumbled. Graham frowned. "Did you finish that book?"

"No, why?" Pierce answered distractedly.

"No reason."

Pierce nodded, looking smug. "I'm gonna kill him," Pierce said as his eyes lost focus.

"Wait, what?" Hannah exclaimed, sounding just as alarmed as Graham was.

"Come on. We've got work to do," Pierce said to Ross, and the two of them left together, strutting out of Graham's kitchen.

Graham and Hannah shared a look. Graham wasn't sure when it happened, but somewhere along the line, the bombings had become more important to Pierce than the robberies. And now he wanted to kill someone?

Graham frowned as Hannah bit her lip and looked away. Neither of them had the nerve to buck Pierce, and they both knew it.

When Ty returned less than an hour later, just after the lunch rush, he proceeded immediately up to the fifth floor, punched in the code he'd seen the doctor enter to get access to the secure area, and walked straight to Zane's bay, hoping he'd be back from the scan. The last time Ty had suffered holding still for one of the damn things, it had only been about ten minutes, all told.

When Ty arrived, there were two doctors—neither Dr. Jameson—and a nurse already in the bay.

He hung back, practically vibrating with the need to get information and see how Zane was doing. Then he saw Zane slowly turn his head away from the door toward one of the doctors, who was talking to him in low tones. Zane was awake.

Ty held his breath and stepped into the bay. The nurse must have seen the movement out of the corner of her eye, because she turned to look at him in alarm.

The doctor turned as well. "And you are...?"

Ty merely flipped his badge open to show it to the doctor. He could be an officious ass too.

The doctor wasn't impressed. "Unless you're Special Agent Garrett's family, you shouldn't be here, sir. I've been informed of no guard assignment."

"Consider yourself informed," Ty said to him in a low voice. "I must insist—"

"Ty?"

At Zane's soft word, the doctors and nurse turned back to their patient. Ty stepped closer to the bed, looking at Zane with a mixture of relief and guilt. "Hey," he responded weakly.

Zane's hand shifted and his chin turned, but he just blinked lazily and stared out into the bay with unfocused eyes. "You okay? You were in the truck," he said. The words were so garbled it took Ty a few beats to decipher them.

"Yeah," Ty answered carefully as he studied Zane. He knew that look. It took him a long moment for it to register, but he knew it. It was the same one his great-grandmother had always had when he'd been little, staring past him as she listened to the sound of his voice. "You can't see," he blurted.

"Excuse me," one of the doctors interrupted. "Special Agent Garrett, is this man okay to stay with you? Do you know him?"

Zane blinked slowly. "He's my partner," he said, the words coming out a little more clearly, though still labored. "Tell him. He was in the truck."

"Tell me, my ass. He can't see," Ty grunted to the doctor as he pointed at Zane accusingly.

The second doctor spoke. "You are correct, Agent...?"

"Grady," Ty told the man in annoyance. "Why can't he see?"

"Ty," Zane said softly, the tone clear, asking Ty to calm down and let the doctors explain.

The first doctor flipped a page on the chart. "As we were just explaining to Agent Garrett, there was a lot of swelling from the blow to the head. While most of it has subsided and we've confirmed there is no further internal bleeding, we think there was enough to form a few blood clots. We started him on the appropriate drugs, and in a couple of days, we'll run another CT scan to determine the extent of the damage."

"The clots are very near the optic nerves, possibly even inside them," the second doctor said. "That's why he can't see."

Ty stared at them, trying to decide if he was justified in hitting one or both of them. He didn't suppose he was. "Clots," he repeated. "So it's not... permanent, right? It can be fixed?"

"We chose a very successful drug for dissolving clots," the first doctor said. "Once we have a chance to repeat the CT scan and run a retinal exam, we'll have a better idea, but I would say it's only temporary and won't require surgery to resolve it."

Through this conversation, the nurse was changing out an IV, and Zane didn't even flinch as she set in another port. "Can I get you anything, Mr. Garrett?" she asked. "Are you in any pain?"

"Headache. I'll live," Zane slurred.

"Well, Agent Garrett, try to get some rest," the first doctor said. "You may find it easier to just keep your eyes shut. I hesitate to cover them until we know more about your condition. We'll be back to evaluate you in a few hours." With that, the two doctors nodded at Ty and left.

The nurse slid the call button cord inside the curve of Zane's arm. "If you need anything, just buzz, and I'll come running. My name's Bree." Then she left them alone.

Ty stood in place, uncertain of what to do. He couldn't fight the feeling that this was all his fault somehow. If he'd just gone in with them...

"Stop it," Zane murmured.

"What?" Ty asked defensively.

Zane turned his face toward Ty. "Stop beating yourself up. Are you okay? You were in the truck," he repeated for the third time, his voice low and exhausted.

"You really do have a concussion, huh," Ty murmured. The heavy chair he'd sat in earlier had been put back in its corner, so he moved to the bed instead and perched on the edge. "I'm sorry," he offered lamely. "I should have been in there with you."

Zane shifted his hand against Ty's thigh. "Both'd be here." His tone conveyed that it would be a bad thing.

Ty didn't respond other than to lower his head and look at Zane's hand. "Does it hurt?" he finally asked.

Zane grunted. "Headache. I'll live."

Ty would have smiled at the absurd repetition, but he knew Zane couldn't help it after that hard of a knock on the head. He nodded silently, belatedly remembering that Zane couldn't see him. "You can't see anything?" he asked tentatively. "No shadows, nothing?"

Zane was silent for a long moment as he blinked his eyes over and over. "Nothing," he whispered.

Ty reached down and took his hand, squeezing it hard. McCoy had ordered him to go home, but what good was he there? On the other hand, Zane needed nothing but medical care, and Ty knew that when he was in the hospital himself, he hated having people with him. "What can I do?" he asked, feeling helpless and useless.

Zane licked his bottom lip and opened his eyes, turning his face toward Ty. "Don't leave me alone." His voice actually shook.

Ty looked at him worriedly, and he put his other hand on top of Zane's, holding it with both of his hands and letting his fingers slide up his arm. "I won't go anywhere," he promised.

Zane nodded; it was a jerky, uncomfortable motion. He squeezed his eyes shut as if it would help. "I'm a little rattled," he rasped.

Ty petted his arm ineffectually. He had no idea what else to do. "We're going to have to find a third wheel to take care of us when we get hurt," Ty suggested. "We're not very good at this."

"Too good. This is new," Zane said with a soft huff. "Headache."

"Hey, I prefer my run of unlikely finger injuries," Ty responded as he ran his thumb along Zane's wrist. "And it's not new, it's just more epic than what I did in New York."

Zane snorted and seemed to shrink into himself as the silence lengthened. "Sucks," he finally muttered.

"Think of it as... special training for your other senses," Ty instructed, faking cheerful.

Zane frowned and took a steadying breath. "If I could see you," he enunciated, "I would slug you."

"Must be my lucky day then," Ty responded wryly.

Zane opened and closed his fist between Ty's hands, flexing his fingers before letting them rest, curling around Ty's wrist. "What now?"

Ty opened his mouth to respond, trying to find either a joke or a silver lining or a nice whitewashed lie. But he could only manage a few soft sounds before closing his mouth again and shaking his head. "I don't know," he answered instead. "I guess we just wait it out."

"Wow," Zane murmured tiredly, head lolling back against the pillow. "You're scared shitless if that's the best you got."

Ty pressed his lips together and looked at Zane helplessly. He met Zane's eyes, knowing Zane couldn't see him. He was glad for it, though. Zane didn't need to see his fear. If he was this scared, he couldn't imagine how Zane was feeling.

Being completely in the dark had taken on a whole new meaning.

This wasn't just dark; it was pitch-black, no relief, no gray, no hint of light under a door, no bare twinkle of stars in the sky. It was utter nothing.

Each time Zane woke up from dozing—no real sleeping, the nurse insisted, waking him up every fifteen minutes—it was easier to think, and his first thought was always that when he opened his eyes, he'd be able to see. But then he did and... didn't.

If it weren't for being able to always hear something in the hospital room, he would have totally freaked out.

With a sigh, he shifted a little in the bed, very carefully, not sure if something somewhere would hurt when he moved. He heard Ty gasp suddenly and felt him jerk.

"What?" Ty asked in a hoarse, sleepy voice. Zane frowned. "Ty? Were you asleep?"

"I'm not sure," Ty answered in a voice that told Zane he had definitely been asleep and was still in the process of trying to remember where he was. Zane felt Ty's hand brush against his chest, as if making sure he was actually there and he wasn't dreaming. He raised his own hand to cover Ty's for a moment.

"Sounds like you were," Zane murmured. He shifted his eyes to look around even though there was nothing to see. "What time is it?"

"Late," Ty answered, his voice sounding as if he had turned away. "Can you... can you see anything?" he asked tentatively.

Zane shifted a little more onto his side, facing Ty, letting his cheek settle on the pillow. "No," he whispered. His fingers moved slightly on Ty's hand. While he'd never been touchy-feely, now that he couldn't see, touching was much more important to his state of mind. He wondered how long Ty would tolerate it.

"Damn," Ty sighed. He gave Zane's hand a squeeze and pulled away as he stood, just like Zane had known he would. "You need anything? I'm going to go find caffeine. Maybe some real food."

Zane resisted shaking his head slightly. It hurt and made him queasy. "No. Have you been here the whole time?"

"Yeah," Ty answered in a surprised voice. He almost sounded offended that Zane had asked. "Why?"

"Chill, okay?" Zane said with a sigh. "I figured you had, which means you've been here awhile without a break. When did you eat last?"

"Lunch," Ty answered as he moved away completely. "Want me to fi ... doctor and see ... get some food?" he mumbled, his voice going in and out of earshot. Zane thought he might be looking around the room for something or possibly putting a jacket on. He might have detected some rustling of fabric.

"Yeah," Zane said, swallowing on the hint of dread that hit him in the chest. He bit his lip and shifted more onto his side and pulled the pillow hard against his chest like he did at home. Damn, he hated this. And he hated even more being scared about it. He squeezed his eyes shut hard.

"What's wrong?" Ty asked as his voice moved closer again.

Zane reminded himself he was a grown man who'd faced all sorts of dangerous and really frightening challenges in his life and tried to relax, with only a bit of success. He cleared his throat. "You'll come back, right?" he finally asked. He winced. Damn, he sounded like a baby.

There was silence in response, but Zane could still feel Ty's presence beside his bed. Finally, Ty moved, and the denim of his jeans scraped softly. He reached out and put his hand on Zane's forehead. "It'll be okay," he assured him, then removed his hand.

Some of the tension melted, enough that Zane could breathe easily again. He nodded against the pillow. "Go on. I'll be here."

There was no response, no sound of Ty moving, but it felt like the warmth had left the room, so he knew Ty was gone. Zane's jaw clenched, and he pushed his face into the pillow. This blind shit had been easier to handle when he was mostly unconscious and unable to focus. With nothing else to do, he started listening, closing his eyes and really listening.

After the claustrophobic hell that was the hospital's crowded food court, Ty found himself rattled and unkempt as he made his way to the elevators. He didn't smile and nod at people as he passed by; he didn't even see the people he passed by.

He kept his head down, face set in a frown as he fretted over what needed to be done. He'd talked to his mom for at least half an hour as he'd waited in line in the café, trying to convince her that no one had died and that he and Zane both had all their parts intact. When he'd hung up, he'd told himself to appreciate the fact that she cared, remember it was out of love, be glad your mom is still around. Zen, Ty, Zen.

Then the thought that Zane had a mother had hit him like a truckload of panicking chickens and he'd needed to sit down. He'd lost his place in line. Fuck the line.

He was listed as Zane's emergency contact, which meant the only notifying of family was going to be done by him. The prospect of calling Zane's parents to tell them he was seriously injured, and oh, by the way, I'm your son's partner who let him go by himself into the building that blew up, nice to meet you, has he told you he likes cock?

Ty closed his eyes and shook his head, surprised to find himself riding the elevator up already.

He took in a deep breath and blew it out carefully. This was merely lack of sleep and possibly a little trauma getting to him. He'd be okay. Zane would be okay. It would all be okay.

"Okay," he said under his breath.

When he got to Zane's room, he was almost good again.

Then he saw Zane, his partner, his lover, lying there in the bed, pale and still, somehow managing to look fragile despite what a tall and muscled man he was, and "good" went out the window, down three stories, and splatted on the asphalt.

Ty edged into the room, wondering if he should stay or go, since Zane appeared to be sleeping. Fuck that—if he had to suffer, so did Zane. He crept closer, eyes passing over the machinery around the room, and he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed.

The corner of Zane's mouth tilted up. "Old Spice," he murmured.

The words warmed Ty more than he was willing to admit. He leaned closer and sniffed loudly at Zane. "Desperation?"

Zane turned up his nose. "Mouthwash. Nasty shit." He shifted his closest hand to touch Ty. There was a small bandage, white against Zane's skin, where the IV had been earlier in the day.

Ty gripped his hand and squeezed it. "You doing any better?"

"Not hurting as much," Zane admitted. "They took away all the wires and gave me ginger ale. I hate ginger ale." There wasn't a lot of force behind his words, but at least it was more than the dull yes and no and "you were in the truck" of early that afternoon.

Ty nodded, not sure what else to say. His mind was still racing, a duck's legs kicking furiously under the smooth surface of a pond. He was pretty sure if Zane could see he'd have mentioned it by now.

"I talked to Ma just now. She said to say hello," Ty tried, grasping for a thread to hang onto before he started going off the rails again. He'd have to take a nap when he got home.

"I could go for some pie right now," Zane said, visibly brightening even though his eyes remained dull and blank.

"I'm sure she's baking furiously," Ty muttered. He looked down at the hand he still held in his. "Do you want me to call your folks?" Please say no, please say no, please say no—

"No," Zane said immediately. Thank God!

Ty cleared his throat and kept talking despite his relief. "Are you sure? It seems like something maybe they should know."

Zane's nose wrinkled, and he frowned before sighing a few moments later. "I guess I might call Annie. But not my parents. We don't... we're not really in touch."

Ty winced but didn't push further. He couldn't help but ask, though. "Who the hell is Annie?"

Zane actually smiled and turned his head on the pillow. "My little sister."

"Ah. Am I going to have to call her?" Ty asked, unable to keep the displeasure out of his voice.

"I wouldn't do that to you," Zane assured him, rubbing Ty's thigh soothingly. He'd clearly picked up on Ty's tone of voice. "She does know who you are, though."

"She's knows I'm the partner that let you run into the exploding building alone and that you like cock?" Ty asked without even thinking about turning around to see if anyone was within hearing range.

Zane's eyes widened comically before he blinked several times and shook his head. "That you're the partner who's saved my life multiple times," he corrected evenly. "And yes, she knows I switched teams."

Ty's racing mind finally came to a grinding, screeching, painful halt. "Wait, what?"

"I don't even have to see your face to know you're about to freak out." Zane sighed. "She knows we're partners at work. That's all. I don't share details about my private life with her or anyone, but she does know in general terms that in the past I've slept with both men and women. Okay?"

Ty closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose to ward off the squirrels trying to chisel their way out of his brain. "Zane," he groaned in complaint. "When do you get out of this place? I need to fucking sleep before you drive me crazy."

"I don't know," was the quiet reply.

Ty looked down at Zane, really looked at him, taking in the gauntness of his pale face, the worry etched in every line. It had been a while since Zane had looked this bad. It made Ty realize how much better he'd gotten since Christmas. He reached up and fluffed Zane's hair with the tips of his fingers, not willing to make a public display of his affection but wanting to comfort Zane somehow. "Do you want me to go ask if you can come home?"

Zane got this odd, pained look on his face for a moment before he shrugged. "I don't know what to do. I'm not sure... how I'll manage."

"You have me." Ty pressed his lips together hard and felt himself flushing. He opened his mouth to add some sort of qualifier to it, but he supposed after you'd told someone you loved him and dropped to your knees as many times as Ty had for Zane, you were past being embarrassed when you spouted off Hallmark card material.

The small smile on Zane's face softened the worry lines. "I know." He rubbed his fingers over the fabric of Ty's pants. "But you have to work. And play softball. And sleep," he emphasized with a gentle poke.

"You saying you don't want me to stay with you?" Ty asked in the most neutral voice he could muster. He wouldn't blame Zane if he didn't. If their positions were reversed, Ty would send Zane away in a heartbeat. And Ty knew that saying he wasn't the most ideal candidate to care for someone would be quite an impressive understatement. But he wanted to be there for Zane all the same. He wanted Zane to know Ty was behind him, no matter what.

"No. I want you with me all the time. But I know us. That wouldn't work."

Ty was on the verge of agreeing, because shit no, it wouldn't work. They'd be at each other's throats a day in... although he had begun to miss Zane quite a bit in the last several busy weeks. He looked into Zane's sightless eyes. The impulse to ask was about so much more than being a nursemaid. "Will you give me a chance?" he pleaded.

The ripple of emotion across Zane's face was indefinable; at first Ty thought he identified surprise, then happiness, then maybe hope. "Yes," Zane answered.

"Good," Ty sighed. He patted Zane's knee. "I'll go hunt down a doctor and threaten him until he lets you go home."

"He'll probably agree. He's not too happy with me as it is," Zane said.

"Why not?"

Zane squeezed his eyes shut and blinked several times after opening them. "Declined pain treatment," he muttered.

Ty nodded, forgetting for the moment that Zane couldn't see him do it. He petted Zane's belly as he stood. He wasn't going to comment on the drugs, just like he had stopped commenting on anything else that touched on any of Zane's vices. It wasn't worth the angst.

"Be right back," he muttered, and he set off to find an unsuspecting doctor to bully.

"Agent Garrett, how are you feeling?" a man's voice asked as someone walked into the room.

Even though he was expecting it, Zane still tensed. He opened his eyes out of habit and sat up. "Pretty good, except..." He waved one hand somewhere beside his head.

"Still no vision?" the same voice asked with an audible frown. "Well, that's to be expected. We'll start your discharge papers going, and you should be able to get out of here," he said as papers shuffled.

Zane squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the blanket in one fist. He wasn't so sure this was a good idea, even if he didn't want to be here.

"Unless there's a new problem?" the doctor asked, voice tinged with concern.

"A problem?" Zane's voice got a little high and thin there at the end. "I can't see!"

The doctor cleared his throat. "Agent Garrett, it is a temporary side effect," he assured him. "Now that we know there's not a critical injury, there's no reason for you to remain here. I'm sure you'll be more comfortable at home."

Zane swallowed. "At home. Alone."

"Are you saying you want to remain in the hospital?" the doctor asked him in surprise. "That's not really an option, Agent Garrett."

"No, I suppose it's not," Zane murmured, dropping his chin.

"It'll be about an hour," the doctor told him, sounding relieved that he wouldn't have to talk Zane down out of the proverbial tree. "We'll just get that started for you," he said. His shoes squeaked as he turned away.

"Hey," Zane said abruptly. "Is there anything I should be doing while I'm at home?"

He heard the doctor stop and turn around. "Don't run into things," the man advised after a moment of thought.

"Yeah, that'll be a piece of cake," Zane muttered.

"Rest. Relax. Let someone take care of you," the doctor told him seriously. "The nurse will be back soon," he added. Then slightly squeaky footsteps faded away.

"Relax," Zane said as if someone were standing there. He wasn't all too sure someone else wasn't, actually. "He says relax." He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face.

With a sigh, Zane pulled one leg up and wrapped an arm around his knee as he sat there wondering what the hell he was going to do. He'd already made up his mind not to call Annie. He was sure his sister would fly out here if he needed her, but there really wasn't anything for her to do. There wasn't really anything anyone could do. That was what was so goddamn frustrating.

A few minutes later there was a soft knock on the door frame of his room. "You want Cheetos or a Snickers?" Ty asked in a disgruntled tone.

Zane turned his chin as soon as he heard the knock. "Snickers will be easier," he said. Although the Cheetos sounded good, Zane knew better than to fight Ty for them.

He could hear Ty unwrapping the candy bar as he moved closer.

"Hold out your hand," Ty ordered when he got to the side of the bed.

Shifting slightly toward Ty, Zane did so, palm up. Ty placed the Snickers in his hand without a word, and then Zane felt him move away and heard him flop into a chair of some kind. The springs squeaked.

Zane lifted the bar tentatively to his lips, surprised when he found it difficult to hit his mouth. He took a bite and chewed slowly. "Doctor was here," he said as he savored the chocolate.

"That was faster than I expected. And?" Ty asked eagerly.

"They're sending me home."

"That's good, right?" Ty asked. "When can we leave?"

"He said an hour." Zane wasn't sure about answering the first question.

The chair creaked as Ty leaned forward. His voice was closer when he spoke. "We talked about this. You don't want to go home?"

"Yeah, I want to go home. I hate hospitals. It's just..." Zane frowned.

"You wish you could see," Ty provided matter-of-factly.

Zane nodded. He carefully took another bite of the Snickers. "Don't know what the hell I'm going to do with myself. It'll be a whole new level of staring at four walls."

"Well," Ty murmured thoughtfully. "Man up, Zane. Shit happens, you know? We'll get out of here and get some real food."

Zane sat startled for a long moment and then actually chuckled.

"Welcome back."

"What?"

"You sounded a lot more like your normal grumpy asshole self," Zane explained. "Rather comforting, actually." Something about that just made Zane want to laugh. "Yeah, you're going to make a great valet."

He was surprised by a thump on the tip of his nose. He hadn't even heard or felt Ty move. He swiped out with one hand in a belated reaction. "Hey! I've seen you use an iron. That is damn impressive."

"Marines either know how to use an iron or they get married," Ty advised through a mouthful of Cheetos. "The iron is less dangerous."

Zane snorted and almost swallowed the chunk of candy bar in his mouth without chewing it up. "That's actually pretty funny."

"I try."