"And before you ask, yes, the doctor knows that it occasionally hurts; it's normal." He said a silent prayer that Jim wouldn't make a federal case out of a little pain. Those weeks in the hospital and the months of recovery were hard on Pete. As a kid he rebelled from the over protectiveness his mother showered on her only son. He never did like having people hovering around him. It was an independent streak that drove away more than one girlfriend. Some of his happiest memories of childhood involved being alone and hiding in the branches of a very large apple tree, eating his way through the pages of books his grandfather hid up there for him: Jules Verne, Mark Twain, H. ….

"Pete? Hey Partner." Jim was jostling Pete's shoulder; trying to get his attention. Pete coughed and shifted the car into gear. It was a good thing there were no cars stopped behind them when the red light turned green. "Are you okay? You looked like you were a million miles away."

"Only about 12 hundred miles and twenty-five years from here." This caught Jim's attention as Pete rarely talked about his childhood. On their first night riding together, Jim learned that Pete was from Seattle, but it wasn't until a year later that he found out that Pete had grown up on a farm. He had assumed that, like him, Pete was from a large city.

"How did we go from pain in your chest to when you were a kid?" Reed was used to having Pete's experience leading him to think faster than Jim, but he usually got to the same place eventually; this jump made no sense.

"Hiding." The look on Jim's face was priceless; he clearly thought that Pete had lost his mind. He considered leaving Jim wondering, but he had no doubt that tomorrow Mac would be asking about his sanity. "You stared at my scar this morning because you never saw it before. There's a reason for that." Pete paused while he made a left turn onto Galena. "I'd rather people forget it ever happened." Knowing how private Pete can be, that explanation made perfect sense to Jim

"1 Adam-12, 1 Adam-12, back-up 1 Mary 14, 12967 Ventura Blvd, Code 2"

"Back-up" consisted of transporting one prisoner with a bloody nose to Central Receiving. So far, it was a very quiet shift. The two were leading the prisoner up to the nurses' desk when Sally grabbed one of the student nurses, introduced her to Jim and sent the two of them and the prisoner to an exam room. Before the door closed, Jim looked back to see Pete and Sally heading for a different exam room, her hand resting on Pete's left bicep.

By the time Jim came back with the prisoner, Pete was sitting in the waiting room finishing up the report on the traffic accident. He had hoped to grab lunch before going back to work, but that was shot when the prisoner wasn't admitted. Jim waited until they were out the door before asking what was going on in the other exam room. Pete's only response was "not in front of the prisoner". They took lunch at the station and Pete dodged all of Jim's questions. Sometimes, it was fun to hold out on information. Pete knew that Jim would likely be annoyed to find out that what went on was, mostly, Sally asking for a ride home after her shift.

They were walking past the bulletin board when Jim stopped, reaching out to snag an envelope that was tacked up on the board. Pete, who knew at once what was in the envelope, took it from Jim, folded it and stuffed it into his pocket. He knew that reading it would only cause more trouble; the envelope hidden from view, Pete picked up the pace towards the door and salvation.

"Whoa. Aren't you going to read it?" Jim was forced to jog a little to catch up to his fleeing partner. What neither Jim nor Pete knew was that MacDonald, exiting the breakroom, caught the tail end of the scene in the hall. He too, wanted to know what Pete wasn't reading. A very loud "Ahem" stopped both officers in their tracks; together they turned to face the dragon in the hall.

"Give it over Pete." Mac's voice had taken on that quality that was used to scare rookies. He rarely used it around these two, but when he did, they had no choice. Pete took the folded envelope out of his pocket and gave it to Mac. "Where did this come from?" He could tell by the typed address that it was most likely a message from Tony.

"I don't know. It was tacked on the board." Pete's eyes met Mac's and the silent communication between them was that of old friends; partners. He understood the plea in Pete's eyes and did what he would want Pete to do for him.

"I'll check it out. Whatever it is, they shouldn't post it on the board." He paused to look between the partners. "I'm assuming that you don't think its job related or urgent?" Pete shook his head, a silent thank you sent; he led Jim out to the unit. Pete was grateful that Mac had given him the chance to explain the notes on his own.

"I've been getting messages that seem to be from Tony Johnson." Jim was understandingly upset that Pete hadn't told him after the first note came. He jumped to the conclusion that Pete hadn't at first grasped; Pete thought they were meant to rattle him and weren't really threats. Jim took the more direct route; he was sure they were threats and he intended to protect his partner. "Jim, unless that one Mac has is a direct threat, all I have are notes from a guy who will be in prison for another year and a half." Jim got into the unit after Pete did, although he gave Pete the silent treatment, even after Pete apologized again.

"1 Adam-12, 1 Adam-12, code 30, Westside Shipping, 78 West Front Street, 1 Adam-12 handle Code 2."

The partners were familiar with the warehouse. It was large, dark and filled with spaces for suspects to hide. At Pete's order, Jim requested a back-up unit to assist them. The partners exchanged worried glances when dispatch notified them that no back-up was available. Pete parked the unit at the southwest corner of the warehouse where the black and white couldn't be seen. They didn't need to discuss how to approach the call; after years of riding together it was ingrained. Pete went left and Jim went right, both looking for signs of a break-in. Pete found Jim by a door on the backside of the building.

"Are we square?" It was unusual, but going into a dangerous situation with an angry partner wasn't the wisest move. Jim nodded and opened the door; he would cover Pete as he went in first. They systematically moved through the warehouse, always mindful of the other's position. Halfway through the warehouse Pete saw something.

"Jim, Duck!" He was trained to trust his partner so he ducked and felt, more than saw, the two-by-four that barely missed his head. Jim spun and lunged at a pair of blue jeans and the legs inside them. A second swing of the two-by-four was stopped from hitting Jim's back by Pete grabbing the wooden beam. Between the two of them, they got the suspect under control, but not before he yelled for his accomplice to help him. Jim was looking for a pole to handcuff the suspect to when Pete took off; heading for the sound of running footsteps.

Shots broke out, coming from the far corner of the building. Jim pushed his prisoner in that direction, still searching for a pole to handcuff him to; all the while hearing the exchange of gunfire. To Jim, it seemed to take forever to secure the man to a metal stair railing. Then he ran. He wanted to call out to Pete to see if he was okay, but he knew that he needed to keep his presence unknown in order to be effective. He finally saw Pete crouching behind a large wooden crate while he reloaded. A nod of his head sent Jim to a position to the side of the suspect shooting at his partner. Once he was in position, Jim realized that only the suspect was still shooting; the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Jim yelled for the man to freeze and he did.

Pete came out from behind the crate to cover the suspect while Jim searched and handcuffed him. Jim did his job as was required, but he didn't fail to notice the blood running down Pete's left arm.

"Did you take a slug?" Jim asked, as he led the prisoner towards his partner. Pete had pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and was using it to stop the bleeding.

"Nah, A piece of the crate splintered off and hit me in the arm. I already pulled it out." He chuckled, as Jim gave him a complete look over. "It's nothing. Relax, will you?" Once the prisoners were in the back seat of their black and white, Jim returned his attention to Pete's arm. "Look, it already stopped bleeding. Can we just get these guys to the station?" Jim got into the back seat, mumbling something about stubborn partners and Mac.

At the station, Jim went to put the two prisoners in the lock-up while Pete went to the locker room to wash the blood off his arm. He was putting a large bandaid on his arm when Mac came in, followed closely by Jim.

"That was fast; did you even put the guys in the lock-up?" Mac was inspecting Pete's arm. "It's a scratch Mac, that's all." Pete really didn't like people fussing over him, even old friends.

"It's still bleeding Pete. After your shift, I want you to stop by the ER and get it looked at. For now, stop the bleeding and get your reports done."

He was heading for the door when he turned around and handed Pete the index card. It said:

Someone to Watch Over Me.

"It makes as much sense as the other ones." Pete shrugged a shoulder while Jim was wrapping a gauze strip around his arm. "Let's get done with the reports" The rest of their shift was spent booking both men, filling out arrest reports, a shooting report and an injury report. They parted with a promise from Pete to get his arm checked out.

Pete arrived at the ER earlier than he needed to be there to pick up Sally. Dr. Acheson checked out his arm before having Sally clean and bandage it. "Can you manage to not hurt yourself until I'm ready to leave?"

"Unless I get burnt by hot coffee, I'll be fine." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and went back to work. Pete was in the cafeteria getting a cup of coffee, when he spotted Betty Wells. She was sitting at a table in the corner, holding a mug of what looked like cold tea. As he got closer, it was obvious that she was crying.

"Betty? What are you doing here? Are the kids alright?" He sat across from her, trading his hot coffee for her cold tea. She attempted a smile and took a sip.

"The kids are fine. Its Ed's brother. You know he's been sick. He's been dizzy a lot; from the medication. Today, he fell down the stairs; broke a rip and punctured his lung. They put him on a respirator. Ed's up in the ICU. They are only letting family in for 10 minutes an hour." She spoke very quickly, almost like she was afraid her brother-in-law would die before she finished speaking. "Would you check on Ed for me?"

She really didn't have to ask Pete to go up to the ICU, he would have gone anyway. There was something he needed to tell Ed; sometime Ed needed to hear. Stepping out of the elevator onto the floor the ICU was on wasn't easy for Pete. He spent too many days there and it wasn't something he wanted to think about. Ed was alone, pacing in the waiting room.

"Ed? I saw Betty downstairs. She told me about your brother." Ed looked terrible and he didn't seem happy to see Pete, but he nodded and kept pacing.

"Take a seat Ed. I need to talk to you about something."

"Malloy, I don't give a damn about work right now. Whatever it is, it will wait." He understood what Ed was feeling, but he also knew it from the other side. Pete took a seat and pointed to the one next to him. Ed was reluctant, but he did finally sit.

"This is important. It's not about work." He paused as he considered how to approach the issue; it was something he never told anyone. "It's about your brother. Don't leave him alone."

"Do you think I wanna be out here? Geesh, Malloy. That's the rules." Ed started to stand up, but Pete grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back into the seat.

"I know. I spent almost a week in the same position that your brother is in and I'm telling you that you cannot leave him alone. To hell with the rules." Pete ran his right hand through his hair. "Those sedatives they give you, they do knock you unconscious. You can't move, see, hear or touch anything, but they don't stop the pain and they don't shut down your brain." He had caught Ed's attention.

"Right now, your brother is more alone than he has ever been in his life. He doesn't know what's happened or where he is, much less where anyone else is." Pete sighed, once more running his hand through his hair. This was hard for him to talk about.

"Imagine being stuck in a body that hurts, but otherwise is useless. The longer you lay there, the more you begin to feel that it's not going to end. The only break from the terror is when you fall asleep. You try to move, see, and feel something besides the pain, but you can't." Pete had clasped his hands together; he was actually shaking slightly. Ed was getting more worried as he listened to Pete, but he knew that he did need to hear this.

"Your hearing comes back first, but if there's no one in there talking to him, the sounds of the machines add to your fear. I was lucky; I had friends who kept sneaking in. Jim would tell me about Jimmy. Mac talked about work and Woods would keep me up on baseball. I even heard one person sneak in so that he could yell at me. Telling me that I wasn't allowed to die because then he would have no one left to torment." Both men smiled at that; Ed remembered the one sided chastising he gave Pete.

"When you are stuck that way; lost in your mind, you panic. The fear that you will forever be like that will eventually lead to a prayer for it to end. You believe that anything had to be better than where you are. Once you hit that point…..when you reach that level of desperation, suddenly, you aren't alone. There's a…presence…a knowledge that if you give up, the terror would stop. It promises an end to the pain and the hope that whatever comes next is better." Ed reached out and put a hand on Pete's shoulder; supporting him.

"If you brother hits that spot, he will go. Don't leave him alone." Pete stood, moving quickly towards the elevator. He needed to get out of there now that he told Ed about what he experienced while being on a respirator. Ed raced after him.

"Malloy. Wait…" There was something Ed felt like he needed to know. Pete stopped walking; he didn't turn to face Wells, but he would listen.

"Did you really consider letting yourself die?" The thought scared Ed, both for what Pete went through and what his brother was going through down the hall. Pete looked back over his shoulder and told Ed the most important thing:

"I gave up. I was going, when my I heard a friend yelling at me. So, I came back. Good Night Ed."