Making his way across the meticulously trimmed grounds, Kermit caught sight of a familiar khaki-clad figure. Crossing over to the huge bulk of a maintenance man, the detective was careful to announce himself. This was not a man you wanted to surprise.

"Glad to see you embracing your new position, Miguel." Kermit stood over Miguel Rodriguez, casting a long shadow as he watched the man work.

It had taken the detective longer than he cared to get Miguel transferred to Savannah's new facility. Just long enough for Peter Caine to worm his way into a visit and upset Savannah. That wouldn't happen again.

Miguel closed the door to the fuse box he had been repairing then pushed himself upright. Towering over his employer, he held on to his stoic presentation. "Same precautions will be in place as before."

Kermit looked up at the weathered Latin face. Miguel was never a fountain of conversation. It was one of his better qualities. "Fine. If you need supplies--"

Miguel shoved a frayed piece of paper into his hand.

Kermit quirked a small grin and slipped the note into his pocket. When his hand withdrew, it held a photo. A photo angrily snatched from an album in his own living room. Four black cardboard corners clung to the picture of Peter Caine. Savannah took great care in preserving their family memories, constructing scrapbooks and decorated books filled with photographs.

He had gone in search of the image of an enemy...and found him there.

"Don't let this man near my wife." Kermit handed over the photo for Miguel's careful inspection.

"This isn't the shooter. Who is he?" Miguel focused on memorizing the details of younger man's face.

"Let's just say, he started it all. This is Peter Caine."

Miguel deep brown eyes hardened at the photo. "The Peter Caine you threw out of the other hospital?" He had watched him during visits at the nursing home and watched for him after Kermit had said he was no longer allowed to visit. The young man had not appeared to be a threat -- but that was not for him to decide. He would follow orders.

"Yes. The photo is to make CERTAIN you have no misunderstanding." The last time, he had only given Miguel a name. Now, the nurses were warned and the barrier was solid. He wouldn't take any chances this time. Miguel was here for one purpose -- to protect Savannah from anyone who would hurt her. That included Peter Caine. The list started with him.

Kermit buried his hands in both pockets and glared down at the photo. Peter Caine. Smiling and whole. He hated that so desperately his fingers ached to rip it to shreds. "He upset her so badly it made her sick the last time he was here. If he tries again, stop him."

"Permanently?" The blood thirsty question floated out as Miguel tucked the photo into his tool belt.

Kermit knew that Miguel was viciously loyal when that loyalty was earned or purchased. His instructions had to be specific. "No. Just eject him -- alive and well, but wrinkled at your discretion."

"I am glad your wife is recovering." Miguel stooped down in the bright morning light to gather his tools, closing the toolbox lid over his Ruger. "She is a nice woman. Always smiles at me. You are lucky to have a second chance with her."

"Thank you." Kermit moved away from the uncharacteristic compassion from his mercenary cohort. Breaking the awkward moment, he walked down the path and into the cool conditioned air of the hospital.

******

He was almost to Savannah's room when he heard the crash. Running down the hall, he almost collided with the therapist leaving the room.

"What happened in there?!" He was reaching for the door when he was intercepted by a nurse, who was covered with orange juice, also retreating from his wife's room.

An emphatic "GET...OUT!" followed the now-drenched woman.

With amazing patience, the nurse took Kermit's arm to stop him. "Mr. Griffin, don't be alarmed. Your wife is just frustrated."

Shaking off her hand, he shot back, "I'd say she's a damn sight more than frustrated! What happened?"

The therapist stepped in to explain. "Savannah IS getting better. But, as she grows stronger, her limits are more evident to her. She knows what she wants to do but her body won't cooperate. And her thought processes are, like we talked about before, short-circuited. She may see an end result she desires but not be able to work through the steps to get there. As you can see, it's causing a great deal of emotion."

Leaning back on the wall, he asked, "What can I do to help her?"

"Just try to support her efforts. This is a turning point for her. All that energy can either propel her forward or frustrate her so much that she gives up." Reading the fear on his face, she patted his arm. She'd been so pleased to find her patient had such a determined partner. "You've known her longer than I have, so I'm sure you'll agree that she's no quitter. Savannah has an intense personality. Given the right encouragement, I don't think her 'throwing in the towel' is a likely outcome. Now, I think we'll take a break. Enter at your own risk!"

"I think I can take any punches she might throw. Thanks." With that, he turned and entered the lioness's den. The cup of juice Savannah had hurled at the nurse was lying on the floor. Scattered through the room were pieces of a puzzle, evidently, the exercise for the morning. They were simple puzzles of four pieces each. Primary colors and basic shapes to be plugged into their respective slots.

Her back still to the door, Savannah demanded, in her broken words, "Told you t...t...to GET...OUT!"

"Not me, hon. New victim." He was picking up the puzzle pieces and placing them back on the table in front of her.

She looked at him in surprise. Then embarrassment. "S...s...sorry."

"You're forgiven. Now, what's the trouble? You want me to go beat up somebody for you?"

"Yes."

Grinning at her, he tried to pull the information out of her. "Sure. But first, let's find out what these vile health care workers have done." Now, all the pieces were arranged in front of her. Bases to the right and pieces to the left.

She was mad. Mad as hell, only she wasn't sure if her anger was directed at those annoying people who kept pressuring her or at herself. Using the emotion to help push out the words, Savannah plunged in. "This is...f...f...for ch...ch...kids."

Though her condition still wrenched his heart, her emotional state seemed to be an improvement. Anger over fear. Let that temper fly, Scarlett. It was time to play through. "Well, then. Those idiots. If they're so stupid that they give you a nursery school test, this oughta be easy. Go to it."

Savannah looked back and forth from the eyes of her protector to the table. Truth coming to her lips, she wanted to tell it. Those soft lips began to tremble. "C...c...can't."

This was damn hard. Watching her struggle and fail. "Okay. Then I'll do it for you." He began to drop the pieces into the puzzles.

"Wait."

"No, sweetcakes. I'll do it for you. Hell, that therapist'll think you're a genius." He stopped at the stunned look on her face.

This guy is as crazy as you are! It was funny. Him about to plug all those pieces in to cover for her. She let a slight giggle slip out.

"You...can't," she spoke slowly, trying to get the words out without stuttering, "do...this...for...me. Have to...start."

Kermit grinned at her. "That's right. I know it's hard but you can do this." Focusing all the energy toward her, he tried to guide her. "Do you know what they want you to do?"

She nodded.

"Great. Step one. Now, how do you get from here," he pointed to the pieces, "to where you want to be?"

Shaking her head, she let a tear roll down her cheek. She didn't know how. It was frightening not being able to figure it out. To avoid it, she'd yelled and thrown things. Savannah had a feeling that it wouldn't work that way with Kermit.

Her pain and frustration was nearly impossible to watch. Hang tough, Kermit. Taking her hand, he said, "Savannah. This IS hard. But you can do it. Look at the pieces. We'll do just one. Tomorrow will take care of itself. Today, just pick one piece and then we'll figure out where it goes. Okay?"

"Okay." One piece. She could do one piece. For Kermit. After staring at the brightly colored puzzle pieces, she cautiously pulled a red circle toward her.

"Step two. You're doing great! Now, look at the circle. Find a hole that same shape to fit it into. Take your time." On the inside, he was screaming for her. On the outside, he pulled on that mask he carried around to cover his feelings.

She held the piece in trembling fingers, trying to put the thought process together. After what seemed like hours, she slid the red circle into the round slot on the board. Both Savannah and Kermit exhaled their relief. "Did it!" Splitting the atom never brought so much pride.

Forgetting the restraint he'd used over the past weeks, he jumped from his chair and pulled her into a warm hug. "Yes, you did!" Remembering himself, he released her and sat back on his heels.

For just a second, she had hugged him in return. There was a flicker, almost indiscernible but not to someone who knew her face in every detail. Recognition. Then it was gone. The warm smile remained. That was gift enough for today.

"How about we take in the great outdoors to celebrate? Oh, brought you a present." Kermit took her own sunglasses out of his pocket. He'd pulled them from the sun visor of her car where she'd left them months ago. He moved to put them on her nose, but she intercepted them and pulled them on herself.

"Much b...b...bet...ter."

Standing up, he gently took hold of her wheelchair and moved them toward the door. "That it is. You have no idea how much."

*****

"Are you certain that she's ready for this?" Kermit was pacing through the exercise room, the set of silver bars beside him.

"Child, relax. Do I tell you how to be a policeman? Don't think so," Lana, the physical therapist, tried to calm the agitated detective. "Been doin' this a lotta' years and she's ready. Are you?"

Kermit halted at that remark. Was he ready? Ready to see her fail and be discouraged? No, he wasn't. She'd done remarkably well so far, but this was a mile high hurdle. Walking. It had to come, but the thought of what could happen made his guts do backflips.

Lana seemed confident in the face of his doubt. When Kermit had met the large, dark-skinned woman, he immediately requested that she work with Savannah. The woman was jovial but had a no-nonsense personality. And had a Southern accent to go along with her warm and nurturing personality. Hers was the perfect persona to blend with his wife.

Wearily, Kermit sat down beside Lana. "I just don't want to see her get --"

"Get hurt? Too late. Hurt's already been done. The road back is just as bumpy as the one she rode here, detective." Lana looked at this serious and starched man with sympathy. She could see his desperate need to spare her patient. The woman he loved. She firmly believed in the power of love to heal. Without his devotion, Savannah could never have made it this far. This man was like a tank. Plowing her a clear path.

"I have my own way of working with patients like your wife, and it seems to be the most successful approach for a condition like hers. We have to make her strong as well as get that old communication flowing from her head to her legs." Lana smiled confidently at him and patted his arm firmly. "Kermit....we've been working for weeks and now it's time."

Lana was interrupted as the doors opened and Savannah was wheeled in by one of the nurses. She was afraid. Kermit could read her instantly. Biting her lip. Eyebrows slightly knitted together. Twisting the edge of her sweatshirt.

"Hi there, beautiful." Kermit lightened as the relief spread across her face. She was glad to see him. His heartbeat quickened.

"S-s-so glad you're h-here." Savannah breathed a sigh of relief. Those silver bars loomed before her like an endless highway. But, with him here...

Kermit crossed the distance to her and took control of the wheelchair. "Wouldn't miss our first dance, lady." Parking her beside the equipment, he rested his hands on her shoulders. God, she's shaking.

Lana joined the pair and poured her confidence over them. "Savannah, they tell me you're from Memphis."

"So they s-s-say." A shy smile teased the corners of her mouth.

"Well, child," Lana grinned a neon flash across her dark face, "Lana is gonna have you strollin' down Beall St. before you know it."

What is she talking about? Savannah looked down at the woman's smooth, smiling face. Beall Street. She should know that word. Twisting slightly, she looked up into Kermit's face. "Is that a p-place? Where?"

"It's a street in Memphis, Savannah." Her favorite place. Her favorite place stolen from her memory. Trying to keep his voice level as he looked down into Savannah's damp, confused green eyes, he said, "It's lined with blues clubs and full of music."

"Have you b-b-been there?"

"Not yet." He stroked her cheek. "How 'bout we get you walking and maybe we'll go sometime." Kermit saw the delicate jaw tighten in fear at the mention of "walking."

Her heart was pounding. Fear climbed up and down in her throat. Desperately, Savannah tried to focus on the warm hand resting on her shoulder as she stared down the gaunlet once again. "Might as w-w-well b-be hun-dred miles." Scanning down the bars to the journey's end, it appeared to be impossible.

"Savannah," Lana said, crouching down before her charge, "we've been building up your legs for a good while now. All we have to do is remind those legs how to do the dance. We'll just move them and little by little you'll get control back."

The therapist pulled her patient's wheelchair to the end of the bars and motioned to Kermit to lift his wife to a standing position. The sudden change in altitude left her momentarily dizzy and disoriented.

"Don't l-let me f-f-fall." Savannah rested her head on his chest and tried to adjust. Gripping both sides of the railing, she steadied herself and attempted to relax.

"I'd die before I'd let you fall. Don't even let that thought cross your mind." Kermit held her tightly around her waist, pulling her to him and making his body her scaffold, supporting her in the face of her uncertainty. He would be the frame work to hold Savannah as Lana helped her remember the motions and control she needed to walk.

Lana knelt on the floor in front of her. Grasping Savannah's leg behind the knee with one hand and around her ankle with the other. "Feel my hands?" Savannah took a shaky breath and nodded. "Good, now I want you to think the motion of stepping forward and try to move."

She was thinking it. Lana's hand felt warm on her leg. In her mind, Savannah WAS moving her leg. Sending instructions that were being ignored by her limbs. Her lip began to tremble with the frustration.

"Don't expect it all to come back in a rush, child. Now, you keep right on thinking and I'll do the motions for you." Inch by painful inch, Lana moved her patient's limbs. Helping her retrain an uncooperative body.

Why can't I do this? Why? The failure was rising up before her. That old familiar friend. Dancing in front of her. Taunting and shoving her backward. Terror wound its way upward from the pit of her stomach. Its voice crowing into her mind. Louder and louder.

"I...need ...to st-st.." Her arms were going limp. All of her weight was being supported by Kermit's arms around her.

"Not yet. Keep trying." Lana continued the motions. Lifting. Bending.

"No...can't...h..h..hurts..." She started to cry.

That was enough for Kermit. Swinging her into his arms, he said, "She's had enough!" Holding her close, cradling her, his heart twisted as she sobbed into his chest.

"Kermit. She needs to keep going! This is just the beginning..."

Shooting a fiery glare at the woman, he growled, "I SAID, she's had enough!" Pouring a soothing whisper into her ear, Kermit tried to comfort his wife. "It's okay. You don't have to do this today. It's all right." Easing her back into the wheelchair, he smoothed Savannah's hair away from her face. "Why don't you let the nurse take you back to your room. I'll come see you in a while."

Consumed by the defeat, Savannah sat speechless. Sadly accepting his kiss to her forehead and nodding to the nurse that she was ready to leave.

Kermit waited for the doors to close, then spun around to confront the therapist. Before he could rage down on the woman, she beat him to the punch. "You need to decide right now, detective. Do you want her to get better or not?" She was angry and not afraid to show it.

"What kind of idiotic question is that? You were pushing her and she's too fragile to take it!" There was no way he'd stand by and let someone bully her. Not after what she'd been though.

Lana paced in front of the furious man. Filled with fury herself. "Or maybe YOU are the one who is too fragile to TAKE IT, detective. I thought you had enough backbone to help with this process. Evidently, you ain't got it!"

He was just about to annihilate her when a steady voice flowed from behind him. "Is she correct, Kermit? Are you unable to *take it*?"

Kermit whirled to find the serene presence of Kwai Chang Caine. "Great. Just what I need. Continue this chat without me." Grabbing his jacket, he stormed toward the door. "My wife needs me."

With grace mingled in a vice-like grip, Caine grabbed the ex-mercenary's arm, stopping him cold. "Yes, she does need you. But she needs you to help propel her forward, not enable her to cower in her fear." He had come here to visit Savannah but at this moment, the best way he could help his former student would be to help her husband.

A blinding need to strike the priest cascaded through Kermit Griffin's body. Then he remembered how the man had tried to help his wife. His family. Repeatedly. "All right, speak your peace, Caine."

"Perhaps this young woman has an insight you have missed. You are unwilling to risk more hurt to yourself by forcing Savannah to push her limits further." As was his way, Caine merely hung the truth in the air and waited for others to accept or deny.

"Just because I won't let her be hurt anymore doesn't mean I don't want her to get better. MY feelings don't matter. All that matters is Savannah. How she feels. How she heals. Something all of you don't seem to give a damn about." How dare they question his motives. He was the only protection she had. He wouldn't let her down...again.

"You are trying to make up for not being there when she was injured. To protect her. Are you not?" Regarding the man behind the glasses, Caine sensed his deep love and regret. "Savannah traveled through great pain when she was wounded. She must return through the same pain. It looms before her and turns her backward. YOU must pull her through to the other side."

"Excuse me." Kermit shook off the grasp and moved quickly down the hall to her room. Reality and truth chased him, catching him as he entered.

Savannah started at the sound then relaxed at the sight of him. Her protector. The only one who understood.

"Hi." Her voice trembled in an embarrassed, wavering whisper.

"Hi, yourself." Straddling a chair in front of her, he began to push. "Now that you're finished resting, are you ready to go back?"

What? Was he serious? Shaking her head, she said, "No. Not today."

"Yes. Today. And tomorrow. And the next day."

Was he insane? Surely he had to understand that she wasn't ready for this. "Can't. Not yet."

"Make a choice, lady. Come with me and go on or sit here and hide." This hurt like hell. Throwing down ultimatums to a woman trapped in a broken body. But, deep down he knew Caine was right. "Ball's in your court. Unless you LIKE the view from three and half feet."

His approval had meant all, so far. This man who had planted himself in her life. "But....but...."

"But nothing. Don't fold on me now, Savannah. Do you trust me?"

Of course, she trusted him. It was herself, her body, she couldn't trust. Battling her at every turn. Wearing her down. Laughing at her. Now, her support system was challenging her. "Yes."

"If you trust me, you know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. Wouldn't let you hurt yourself. But, you have to dig through this. I'll be right there with you, but you have to go up the middle." Kermit lifted her hand to his lips. It was trembling.

Feeling his fortitude spilling into her, she took the challenge. "You'll h-help?"

Smiling and removing his shades, he replied, softly, "I haven't met anyone big enough to keep me from you, yet. I'm here for the entire trip. By your side."

Wiping her eyes and pushing herself up straighter in the chair, she committed to the journey. "Let's go."

"I knew you had it in you, lady." Kermit wheeled her back into the battle.

*****

"You know what the best thing about drawing your lot for a partner is, Peter?" Skalany munched on an lard-encased cheeseburger. Balancing a cardboard boat of moist French fries on her lap, she tried to adjust the unsteady array of fast food

"Let's see," he grinned at her as she mopped one corner of her mouth with a napkin. "Could be my superior law enforcement skills. Could be my great personality. Or, could it be my driving record?" Peter tapped his breaks, forcing Skalany to grapple with her dinner.

"No, actually, it's that you're the only one who doesn't bitch about what I eat for lunch." She folded the remains of her decidedly upper-end caloric intake and stuffed them into a bag. "Jody and Jordan are always on some diet quest. T.J. won't eat anything that isn't 'served' to him. And Blake...well, does he eat anything besides donuts?"

"With the gut grenades I down, I'm no candidate for the food police." Peter turned down the vehicle-clogged streets of Chinatown. "But, I thought you were trying out the rice and grass route with my father."

"I swear to God, Peter," she looked out the window, "I tried! I've tried a lot of things for your father."

"Too much information!" Peter twisted his face in disgust.

"Pervert." Skalany, batted his arm. "I've tried meditating and this Tai Chi routine. I'm reading the philosophies he believes in. Hell, I'm even drinking green tea! But, I will not give up garbage food! I'm sorry. I can't. It's like the air I need to breathe." Swallowing another bite, she said, "And anyway, it's not like I don't get to work it off in the gym." The gym. Mary Margaret Skalany's depository for all her confusing Caine-focused endorphins.

Peter coasted to a stop at the intersection and looked at his friend and the intensity of her expression. "He doesn't expect you to be anything but who you are. That's enough."

"Maybe," she whispered to the glass, her discomfort boring its way out once again. She hadn't intended to bring it up. The dead horse she beat daily. Caine was what he was and her attempts at remodeling herself were pointless. Either he would choose to advance or retreat. End of story. Changing the subject, she straightened her shoulders and said, "You've been spending more time there lately. It shows."

"I suppose it does." Peter maneuvered into a parking space and stepped out of the Stealth. Waiting for his partner to join him on the sidewalk, Peter tried to avoid looking down the street. Another guilt trip wasn't productive when there was a witness to be interviewed and hours of work left to do at the precinct.

"Let's go, partner." Skalany nodded her dark head down the street in the direction of Pockets, a dive crammed with pool tables, stale beer, and undesirables. Their witness was more than likely already there and waiting.

There was no way around it. Peter walked in long, uneasy strides. When he reached a boarded up store front, he couldn't help himself. He stopped. His partner stopped. It was inevitable.

Mr. Teng's family grocery had died a slow death, along with its owner. The old man lingered for two months before his broken body gave way to the effects of Blood Lao's attack. Grief and lack of funds killed his business in spite of Mrs. Teng's efforts. All that remained of a life's work was graffiti-ridden plywood and a rude "For Rent" sign dangling on the front door.

"Come on, Pete." Skalany knew the sad-eyed look as Peter stood before Mr. Teng's dead life's work. No one had answered for the crime. Likely, no one would ever answer. Blood Lao had slipped away and justice along with him. Tugging on Peter's arm, she tried to break the spell. "We have cases we CAN make arrests on, partner. Don't dwell on the past. Let's go."

Running his hand through his hair, Peter shook off the failure. Skalany was right. There was work to be done. "Right behind you."

One quick look back, and he was following her down the street, on to the next job. Hopefully, a job he could complete.

*****

"Do...I...look okay?" Savannah asked her therapist. She poured all of her effort into slowing her speech. Today, she wanted to be perfect.......or as close as she could get.

Lana's broad smile spread across her face. "Let Lana have a peek." She leaned down for the inspection. Her nervously-preening patient looked brighter than ever before, wearing light pink warm-ups and her hair pulled back with a ribbon. "Gonna knock his socks off. That is what you're tryin' to do, isn't it?"

Is it? Savannah blushed at the idea. She thought all she wanted to do was share her accomplishment with him. Now that the moment was at hand, she realized it was more. She did want to be pretty for him. As well as strong. The butterflies in her stomach began to collide. Head first.

"Am I late, ladies?" Kermit Griffin strolled into the exercise room with his hands dug into his pockets and a smile on his face. Today, seeing her was like flipping the switch on the sun. She was radiant this morning.

"No....I'm...early." Savannah beamed back at him, delighting in his contagious grin. "I have...a...s-s-surprise...for you." She couldn't wait any longer. Before he could answer, Savannah reached out to grab the bar beside her wheelchair. Gritting her teeth in concentration, she pulled to her feet. Unsteady at first. Pausing to find her center.

Silently sucking in his breath, he moved to go to her, only to be stopped by Lana's gentle touch. Her look said it all -- let her come to you.

With carefully thought-out steps, she advanced. Relying less and less on the bar. Weaning herself. Don't look down, girl, she thought, focusing on her goal. Kermit. The movements had returned to her memory. The body obeyed. Control was hers alone.

But strength was still in short supply. She had to make this performance short and sweet. Headlong to the finish line, she continued. Slowly, she uncurled her hand from the bar and walked straight to the man with the glasses. Both nearly giddy with happiness at her every step.

With one step left between them, Savannah reached out her hand. Kermit grabbed that delicate hand and pulled her into an embrace as her strength ran out. "You did it!!! God, this is wonderful! YOU are wonderful!!!"

Hugging herself into his chest, she asked, "Were you sur-sur....?"

"Hell, yes, I'm surprised!" He kissed the top of her head and enjoyed the warmth of her success. "You certainly know how to keep a secret."

"Just wanted...you...to be...pr-proud...of me." She was growing more and more positive by the moment. It wasn't just devotion to a patient. He cared. She cared. But was it love? If this was love, it was exactly how she would expect it to feel. His arms around her. The way he smelled. The way he lowered his head slightly to brush his chin across her hair. It must be.

"That I am, ma'am. That I am." Kermit closed his eyes. Drinking in the soft presence in his arms. But he didn't want to push. "Would you like to join me for lunch? I know a lovely cafe, complete with plastic trays and cups with lids. I'm certain we won't need a reservation."

"Love to, sir." Savannah stopped him with a touch as he reached for the wheelchair. "No. Never again."

"Are you certain? Maybe you shouldn't push so hard for one day." He was still holding her. Trying to protect her from her own overexertion.

"K-k-kermit....It may take a w-w-while to...get there," she said, smiling through her nervousness, "but I'm on my own...p-p-power. From here...on...out."

"Okay. The cafeteria will still be there. We've got all the time in the world." Gallantly, he offered his arm and she accepted. The therapist handed the adventurous patient a four-pronged aluminum cane to help Savannah balance as the pair passed by.

Under Lana's satisfied and tear-filled gaze, they began a slow stroll down the hall.

*****

Today was the day. It was the day she planned to tell him how she felt. Kermit. She was never certain exactly why this man had seemed so immediately devoted to her, even from that first moment of consciousness, but she had finally decided that he must be one of the therapists or a doctor. His bedside manner was the best! She had him to thank for everything. He was with her every time she needed him and sometimes when she thought she didn't.

Savannah paced the room in the wobbling gait that was her own. Bouncing off the bed once to right herself, she traveled to the window. It always made Kermit nervous when she walked too fast. Sometimes, she did it on purpose, just so he'd have to put his arm around her when the walked outside. She would sway. He would reach out. Then, there she would be, inside his arm. Tucked comfortably underneath as they walked among the flowerbeds. Not talking much -- she felt so awkward and clumsy with words -- just seeing things.

Things were changing quickly. Last week, one of the patients down the hall had gone home. There one day, gone the next. The woman continued to nervously stare out the window. Where is he? Kermit was usually here by now. Carefully she examined the clock on her dresser. Big hand on the....what's that number?...forget the big hand...it's the little hand that makes the difference....ten!...it's almost ten!

She wanted to know about going home, too, but was so afraid. Yesterday, Dr. Beason had asked if she felt ready to talk about leaving the hospital, about going home. Savannah had ignored her. Too many changes.

Home must mean leaving. How could she leave?

Savannah couldn't imagine not seeing his dark suit and green glasses stroll into her room every morning. Kermit was here, part of this place. Never making her feel pushed or nervous. Never insisting that she remember some event or happening as did some of her other visitors.

She straightened the bed again and tried to decipher that confusing "big hand" once again. Hurry up before I...what is it?...chicken up, Kermit.

Last night, after he left, she couldn't sleep. After hours of fitful tossing, she surrendered to the flood of urges inside her mind. Knowing what she wanted. Knowing what she felt. But how could she offer herself to this man? In her condition? Savannah didn't even know who she was. All of her memories were either of the hospital or merely borrowed snatches shared by her visitors. The confusion became too overwhelming when she tried to get past those pictures of life. The present was easier.

What if this thing she felt, this love, was one sided? It was a risk Savannah would have to take. If this man, with his level voice and powerful personality, had helped her learn anything, it was that she had to take a chance.

The door swung open.

Savannah jumped then relaxed when she saw that it wasn't Kermit. A short reprieve for her to find the words before he came.

The nurse came in with a smile. Judy walked in beside the strong presence of Dr. Beason. Handing Savannah a package, she smiled and lightly touched her patient's arm. "We have a present for you."

Savannah took the bright foil gift bag with a big smile. "Thank you," she said carefully and slowly, after pulling out a new pair of pink warm ups. "My f-fav-fav...I like pink." Looking at Judy with a sheepish blush, she said, "I have been meaning to tell you...I am sorry for the orange juice."

The nurse laughed and touched her hand fondly. "Occupational hazard, Savannah. You shouldn't worry about it - it washes off. I'm just delighted that you are so much better."

Dr. Beason took the gift from her and held Savannah's other hand. Warm tones carried her words. "Savannah, we need to talk for a minute about something."

Oh no....home. Leaving. She wants me to leave. There was no where to get away from the panic.

Seeing the dread begin to manifest itself physically, the doctor comforted her patient. "Relax, sweetie. It's nothing bad. Really. There's someone who would like to see you. Someone who'd like to talk to you."

The fear from that day of standing between the silver bars returned. Kermit....where are you?! Savannah could hear it in Dr. Beason's voice. Something was about to change. Kermit...

"Your husband is here for you."

The doctor and nurse held their breath as Savannah gasped. Her husband??? "What?!" The air rushed from her lungs.

The doctor squeezed her hand. "We were hoping that you would remember on your own," she said gently, "but don't feel bad that you didn't. Your husband is a very caring individual who understands what you've been through. He's ready to take you the rest of the way to your self-discovery."

How in God's name could she forget her own husband? What he must be feeling right now? And why hadn't he visited her? "Didn't he want to see me?" she whispered.

"All the time," the nurse smiled, looking toward the door.

Savannah tried to stop shaking but failed. She was so nervous. What he must think of her! A husband waiting for her when she was certain that she loved someone else. She held her breath. Trying to sort things through. Kermit. I have to talk to Kermit. But how could she tell him now? And that other poor man....

She found her breath when Kermit came in and she smiled widely, opening her arms for a hug just like a little girl. It was involuntary. Kermit, smiling, quickly went to her and hugged her, stroking her hair softly. Comforting herself with his familiar being, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm going to miss you SO much!" she whispered. "I don't know what to do, K-K-Kermit. I didn't know...I...I don't want t-to go..."

Frowning, Kermit gently pulled back. "Why are you going to miss me? Nobody's taking you anywhere you don't want to go," he said, confusion tinged with sadness. He'd hoped she would be anxious to leave with him once she knew.

"Because you've done so much for me....and....well he might not like it....I m-m-mean, h-he might take me away or..." She paused, a torn expression across her brow. "I have... th-they s-say I have...a hus--band."

Kermit nodded oddly, still not getting it. But the doctor did. "Savannah," the doctor said, "Kermit isn't on staff here. Kermit IS your husband."

Shit! They didn't tell her! Kermit thought he'd given the doctor time to tell Savannah who he was, thinking it would be easier that way. Then he would come in and answer her questions. He watched worriedly as she absorbed the information.

Savannah sat spellbound as if a lightning bolt had hit her. Just like that stupid child's puzzle, all the pieces came together. Kermit at her side. Kermit holding her hand. Kermit helping every step of the way. Tears came to her eyes. He'd been so wonderful and she didn't even remember who he was!

"Hey, hey, it's all right," Kermit said, gathering her in his arms again.

"I didn't know...d-d-didn't remember..." she sobbed.

"Ssssh! It's all right," Kermit soothed as the doctor slipped out. "It wasn't your fault. Savannah," he said, inclining her chin so she would look up at him. "Savannah, I love you. I love you no matter what." He shook his head, chuckling. "You thought I was a doctor? THAT's a first!" He said it teasingly, not mocking, and she had to smile, too.

She then started to cry again, holding onto him, overjoyed beyond words. All of her feelings hadn't betrayed her. She loved him for a reason. Because she had always!

"Savannah, here, let's sit down for a minute." They sat down, side by side on the bed. This was the moment he'd been dreading. Her doctor had been right to leave things to her own discovery. They had hoped that she would remember Kermit before the time came to come home. Her reaction to the news was thrilling. She wasn't afraid or confused. Emotional, yes; but the emotions were joy, not pain. Accepting the information, even though she didn't remember their life before the shooting.

"When are we going h-home?" She was staring at him, eyes alight with unadulterated bliss.

"Today," he reached out to finger a loose strand of her hair, "if you're ready. The doctor said you could stay a few days if you needed time--"

"No! I can go and I want to." Fear and dread melted away. Home would be good. Home was Kermit and that was enough.

Now came the tricky part for Kermit Griffin. Leaving the shelter of the hospital meant that he wouldn't be able to filter Savannah's information any longer. Rather than let her walk back into the mainstream of her life unprepared, Kermit and the doctor had decided that he should tell her about her family before she left for the journey home, if her own memories didn't return. He should tell her about her daughter and reduce the stress if they could, here before she was discharged.

"I love you," he whispered, freely saying the phrase that played over and over in his mind.

"And I just KNEW I loved you, too." She looked so happy. More content than she had in months. Giggling up at him, she said, "I was going to tell you today. Then the doctor said I had a H-H-HUSBAND. Boy, did I feel like a creep. Some wonderful husband waiting...for me and I was in love...with another man!" She leaned forward, giving him a gentle peck on the cheek and squeezing his hand warmly.

"Honey, I'm taking you home today. Home to our house. Home to our...daughter."

A look of shock flashed across her face. "Daughter?"

"Yes. Katherine. We call her Kat." Pulling out a photo he'd taken only a couple of weeks prior, he handed it to his wife. Kat was grinning, dimples on full tilt. Waving that beat-up stuffed frog in the air. "She just turned two."

Savannah cradled the photo in her hands as if it were a real child. He face that had been relaxed moments ago, twisted with confusion. "My...my child?"

Kermit nodded. This revelation wasn't going well.

"Oh, God. Kermit." She slid down from the bed and began to pace. Holding the photo in a death grip. "Oh, God. So b-beautiful. Mine? Ours? But I..." Her breathing increased. Panicked, she whirled to face Kermit, who reached out to touch her, afraid that she might faint. She backed away.

"What...what kind... of woman am I?! Didn't re--member husband! Don't even rem-m-member...my own child! What kind of woman am I ?!?!" She was becoming hysterical.

Before her knees gave way, Kermit reached out and helped her sit back on the bed. Speaking with authority, he dove into the explanations. "I'll tell you what kind of woman you are. You're a woman who loved ME when I was unlovable. You went through hell to bring this child into the world, and you put yourself in between this little girl and a bullet, without hesitating. That's how you ended up here. What kind of woman are you? You are a rare and precious treasure, and Kat and I are lucky to have you."

Still looking down at the photograph, she muttered, "But what if... I never remember?"

"Then we'll make new memories."

"Will she be there when...we get home?" Home. Such a strange concept. The hospital had been home. Her new found enthusiasm began to wane. Fear pinched once again as a reminder of the unknown as enemy.

"Yes. Our friend Karen is with her." She seemed to have begun to adjust. "Would you like to go now? We can, if you're ready."

Looking up and wiping her eyes, she answered, "Oh, yeah...my daughter's waitin' for me."

Arm in arm, they left the hospital for good.

Kermit laughed when Savannah complained that his car was like a 'Hot Wheels'.

She didn't understand why.

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