The aching in her head wouldn't give way. Savannah sat alone in the hall, nursing the fullness in her mind as Annie and Caine spoke with the doctors. She was caught in a fog. Nurses walked by, occasionally stopping to offer her coffee and be certain she was well. Dr. Sabourin had given her a quick check in the ER and tended the superficial cuts delivered by a shower of glass and shattered clay pots.

Now, she was trying to sort through the turmoil alone. Kermit....please get here. The sensations were still swirling past in a confusing bluster of memory and fear and love. All the emotions muddled into one glob of feeling. The wall of remembrance had crumbled over her in the rubble of Caine's apartment. The good and the bad and the terrifying all welcoming her home with arms wide and voices screeching for a place within her.

In a nervous gesture, Savannah sat up straight and tried to smooth her blouse. The blood stain caught her eye and drew her hands once again. Bright red had flooded her side as Peter threw his body over her own. Once again, gunshots echoed inside her mind. Peter. Oh, God, no. Please don't die. The concussion of the bullets had vibrated from his body into hers. Peter had jerked with the force of each violation until he connected with the floor. The horror of it was overwhelming.

Fighting to control the tears, Savannah slumped back into the hard shell of chair and closed her eyes against the flood.

A cool hand interrupted. Annie's fine, thin fingers woven under Savannah's elbow and then a arm wrapped itself there. Savannah drew in breath to speak only to be cut off by Annie's shaking whisper. "He's holding his own. We're waiting for the surgeon to tell us more."

"I'm so sorry, Annie," Savannah answered, her voice breaking in regret and sadness. "He saved my life. That boy...h-h-he was going to shoot me like b-before."

"He'll be fine. I just know it." Annie's voice regained more weighted confidence. "And...you have nothing to be sorry about so let's just derail this guilt trip before it builds up any more steam. That boy was trying to kill you and Peter is your friend and a cop. He was doing what he does and I KNOW he doesn't regret it for a second."

"Okay." Savannah sat up once again and tried to order herself.

"How are you holding up?" Annie reached out to stroke her young friend's cheek. "Are you sure you're not hurt? This has to be a shock and I'm not about to tell Kermit Griffin that we got you back just to lose you again." Her voice was filled with honest concern, even as it waivered in her worry over Peter's injuries.

Savannah found a smile to offer, even though Annie couldn't see it. "Really, I'm okay...physically. This is just...so much. It's all at once." She grabbed Annie's hand for support. "I just need Kermit ."

"He'll be here soon, sweetie." Annie held on to the trembling hand in her own, offering a mothering support. "Frank said he was on the way."

"I just have so much to tell him...so much to say." It was as if the sun had exploded. Her mind throbbed with the force of all those brilliant memories. Peter had been as thrilled as she when the barriers had crumbled.

Until he was shot. Kermit, please hurry.

The sounds of an angry fist slamming into Formica thundered from down the hall. "Kermit!" Savannah leapt to her feet, still holding Annie's hand in her fist. "Oh, it's Kermit! I'll be back in a minute!"

Annie watched Savannah race away from her. The young blonde nearly skidded as she rounded a corner in an ecstatic blur. Sadly, Annie Blaisdell had little to be happy about at the moment. She quietly made her way back to wait for good news and pray it would come soon.

*****

Banging on the counter at the nurses' station, Kermit Griffin shouted, "HEY! HEY! Will somebody get over here and ANSWER ME??!!!" He was white and shaking, replaying his last visit to this cursed place. Why in the HELL did I leave? What was I thinking? He pounded harder.

Before the harried nurse could run down the hall to the crazed man at the desk, she was passed by a small, blonde woman running at a frantic pace. "KERMIT!" Savannah ran into his arms, feeling him shuddering with his now fading panic. "I'm all right."

He crushed her in an embrace of love and relief. "God.... I thought you were...you had been...." She stopped his pained explanations with a lingering, passionate kiss.

The surrounding stares of strangers disappeared in the warmth of her body against his. She was alive and whole and here and nothing else mattered. Finally, she pulled herself away to lovingly stroke his face.

"Kermit. I remember."

"You...what do you remember? The shooting?"

"Everything. My life. Our life. Every wonderful moment."

He pulled her to him once again. It seemed too good to be real for her to have back the life that had been ripped from both of them with those bullets. Ripped by...

"What happened?" He was still holding her and couldn't let go.

"I went to see Caine. He had to leave and Peter came in to stay...."

"PETER!! I might have known he'd be involved in this!" The fury was building again. "Where the hell is he!?"

Ignoring his change of mood, she continued, "He was shot, Kermit. He's hurt, badly, but he just has to be fine...he WILL be--"

Pulling away from Savannah, he spat, "He'll won't be fuckin' fine when I get my hands on him. He just couldn't stay away...had to nearly get you killed AGAIN!!!"

Much to the shock of everyone in the area, as well as the ex-mercenary himself, his tirade was halted by a sharp slap across his face. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU???!!!"

Mary Margaret, Frank, and Jody, who had just exited the elevator a few feet away, stood frozen at the sound of the sharp slap. None of them had ever seen someone get away with laying a hand on Detective Kermit Griffin, be it woman or man. Even more astonishing was his sharp reply in the face of all this good news.

"There's not a damn thing wrong with me, lady! Just because I'm pissed at someone for putting my wife in the path of a bullet, there's nothing wrong with me."

Pointing toward an empty room beside them, Savannah shot right back at him, "Get in there." She stormed into the selected arena and he followed, slamming the door behind him.

All these months of stress were exploding between them, for the world to see and hear.

"I don't believe you, Kermit! Peter took those two bullets FOR ME! He saved me! Now, I remember our relationship before the shooting. He was like your BROTHER! You tell me what happened to change that. NOW!" She was as angry as she could remember. And she could remember it *all.*

Kermit Griffin was mad, too. "Look, you just aren't ready to understand...."

"OH, WHY?! Because I'm some CRIPPLE? Some pathetic defective who has to be lied to and sheltered? You tell me, I MEAN IT! How DARE you keep secrets from me!"

"Damn it, Savannah! Peter Caine is the reason you were shot! He set up Jimmy Wong to look like a snitch so he would run in and spill his guts about Blood Lao and the gang activity in Chinatown." He paced back and forth, fueling his anger at Peter and...at her for making him explain.

"So?"

"I warned the little son-of-a-bitch that it could backfire but he wouldn't listen. They came after Wong and got YOU! Caine took you from me for all those months. Time we'll never get back!" He wanted to punch the wall. Punch Caine again. The fury was so overwhelming, it pounded in his temples.

Savannah noticed their three friends through the window, hovering in shock at the volume she and her husband were forcing out into the hall. She didn't give a damn. Calmly, she strolled over to the door and with a sharp crack, dropped the blinds. "Kermit," she said softly, "I'm beginning to remember something else...." She touched her hand to her head and his anger quickly faded to concern.

Kermit rushed to her side and grabbed her hands. "What is it, Scarlett? Tell me!"

"I'm remembering that MEN ARE IDIOTS!!!!" She pulled back, temper flaring once again and shouted into his face. "This man was like your family. Saved both of our butts on more than one occasion. And like I just told you but you were too STUPID to listen, just took two bullets for me. TWO BULLETS!"

That realization was beginning to sink into his anger-filled brain. Kermit was starting to hear what she was saying.

Savannah saw the minute shift and tunneled after it. "Sure, what he did was bad judgment, but Peter *loves* us. Loves you. And if you would stop being so wrapped up in your little trip on that TESTOSTERONE TRAIN of yours, you'd see that. I'm gone for a few m-m-months," she slowed her speech to control the re-emerging stutter, "and you just let everything go STRAIGHT TO HELL!!!" As furious as she'd ever been, Savannah turned and slammed the door open, scattering the crowd outside the door.

"Hey! Wait just one damn minute!" Kermit stalked after her. "You're in no shape to dr-"

Whirling for one final confrontation, she tossed the anger and frustration of the past months back at him as he had at her. "I'm over twenty-one and contrary to your opinion, kind sir, I can go wherever the HELL I please." With that, she shot into the elevator and let the door swish behind her.

The precinct audience was trapped in a stunned silence. No one had ever seen the Griffins fight -- or *heard* them fight, for that matter.

Kermit felt sick. They had never had a battle like this. Both were angry at a time when they should have been happy. What Kermit had been praying for had happened. Savannah had her memory back. Her life. Their life together. And he just ruined all of it.

Something she said began to replay in his mind, *He took two bullets for me.* Kermit hadn't bothered to ask what had happened. Ignoring the gawking group, he faced Strenlich. "What happened?"

Strenlich told him - in detail.

*****

Hours passed uneventfully. Mary Margaret gave up the fight and succumbed to sleep as her head dropped on to the uncomfortable couch in the waiting room. She had refused time and time again to leave so the others felt it would serve little to disturb her. Simms had visited and ordered Strenlich back to the precinct to run the place, exercising one of the perks of command.

As much as they all wanted to stay, somebody had to take care of business. Jody Powell couldn't stand the pressure of another hospital watch, so went back to work where she could keep busy. There was still the matter of the kid who had caused all this mess - Blood. She figured it was the least she could do. And Kermit....

Kermit had gone outside to look at the stars. It was dusk and they were just barely visible. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered the nursery rhyme he whispered to Kat every night as they looked out the window over her bed: 'Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might....' He sighed. The trouble was that he didn't know what to wish for anymore. He'd gotten the wish that had washed through his mind every night for the past months. The granting had been less than fairytale quality.

He stared heavenward for a long while, his fingers absently twirling the gold wedding band he wore. Fourth time, Griffin, he thought. You'd think you would get the hang of it by now.

He loved her. He knew he loved her with all that he was. So what had happened? That sweet, gentle, nurturing woman had found it necessary to scream at him, even slug him. Nothing hurt more than the shocked look in her eyes. The disapproval. After all that he was and all he had told her about himself, she had never looked upon him with disapproval, until now.

Okay, so how bad did I fuck up? he asked himself. He thought about Peter and the past year, and his inadequacy at the human struggle raged prominently in his mind.

He'd never felt so helpless. He didn't even know where his wife was at the moment. Suppose, in her rage, she had had a car accident or collapsed somewhere once her surge of adrenaline gave out? Yanking out his phone, he dialed his home. One ring. Two rings. Rapid breathing. Three rings. Pounding heartbeat.

<H..h..hello.> The voice wavered with exhaustion.

"Scarlett, I jus--"

SLAM!!! The sound waves crackled painfully in his ear as she slammed the receiver down on his words. "Okay," he said into the dead buzz of the phone, "at least I know your arm's in working order."

"She's not ready to listen yet?" Karen Simms eased up beside her detective and stared off into those same stars.

"I seem to have that affect on people." Content not to make eye contact, Kermit continued to speak over the balcony. "Any news?"

"No. Peter's still the same. No better. No worse." Karen was practically absorbing the conflict through the thick night air. The fact that the troubled man was here at all signaled his change of heart. Now, if the pride could be dismantled, redemption could be at hand. "Do you want to explain what happened with Savannah?" She had heard the story from three different witnesses and it was ugly each time.

"I don't know. Couples fight."

"Is that an answer?!" The sharp words snapped out into the night. Softening, she began to speculate out loud. "On second thought, allow me. You were furious that even Savannah thought you were wrong. The one person always on your side stood with the rest of the world against you. Could that be it?"

"Oh, Dr. Brothers. Do continue." Kermit turned his formidable stance to face his captain, arms folded and shoulders squared.

As expected, she never flinched, but glared at him directly through the dark glasses and hammered another chisel into the Griffin iceberg. "Or, how about this. You were angry because she left you and of course, you couldn't blame her-"

"That's crazy!" He whirled to get away from her next supposition.

Undaunted and determined, Karen followed. "Oh really? She had gotten you to *be* someone else. To let you free that part of yourself and suddenly BAM! she left you to do it on your own..."

"Shut up." He stalked across the balcony to exit.

"She had the nerve to leave you holding the bag, Kermit. Got you to build a life and a family and then you were stuck. Kat was depending on you, so you couldn't run off and join the circus. You had to do it with out Savannah as a net."

That stopped Kermit Griffin's retreat, frozen with his fist choking the door handle. Karen continued her emotional assault into the mercenary's back. "Of course, you couldn't actively despise her for being shot. Even YOU aren't that heartless, so why not do the next best thing? Hate Peter. Focus all that anger and doubt onto someone too damaged to resist." Throwing up her hands in exasperated analysis, she added, "Hell, he even WANTED you to hate him for some self-imposed penance! Why don't BOTH of you do us a favor and stop wallowing in guilt and anger and regret and get on with your lives?"

The silence stacked between them. Karen watched for some twitch, some signal of a breakthrough -- sign that this man was unlikely to reveal openly, even to someone as close to him as she.

"Karen." He tilted his head slightly. Never turning around to face her.

"Yes."

"If you ever get fired, don't buy a couch and hang out your shingle." Jerking the door open, Kermit Griffin left the night air and the psychoanalysis behind.

Pounding down the hospital corridor, he hoped that his nosy captain would at least have the grace not to follow. Her words clung to his flesh as he tried to outrun them. Outrun the "truth" -- the subconscious bullshit given form by Karen's voice. The closed elevator forced him to hesitate. The pause allowed the thoughts to grab hold.

Kermit mentally staggered. He'd literally been completely out of his head for the past ten months. He'd been crazed with grief, panic, fear...but it had been a long time since he'd actually *felt* such a gauntlet of emotions. He felt like he was suddenly living in a maelstrom but, strangely enough, it was the first time in months that things had made sense to him. But it was so hard after living with the hatred for so long. It had almost become an old friend to him...just like Peter.

He thought once again about Skalany's and Strenlich's descriptions of Peter saving his wife. Huddled over her like a protective blanket. Taking the bullets for her to save her life. Protecting her the same way Savannah had protected their precious daughter. A life for a life.

Kermit stood rock solid, cemented in the realizations as the shattered glass of his false world of hatred began to crumble.

*****

Mary Margaret stirred in her sleep as a hand gently nudged her shoulder. "Hmph...go away, I'm sleeping," she muttered, batting the hand away.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

*He's asking for it,* Skalany grumbled, snapping her eyes open. "All right, THAT'S it --CAPTAIN!!!"

Paul Blaisdell found himself the recipient of a bearhug that rivaled that of a grizzly he once fought in Canada. Even had claws although he had to admit this one was a lot cuter. "...Skalany...I'd like to breathe...."

"Sorry," she blushed, disengaging. "We missed you."

"I can tell," he grinned. "Good thing we're in a hospital, though. Don't think I could take too many welcomes."

Suddenly reminded of the reason they were there, Skalany's joyful look vanished. "Captain..."

"Paul. I'm not the Captain anymore," he reminded her. "And I know about Peter. That's why I came back." He'd come straight to his son. Peter was still in serious condition. Kwai Chang Caine was standing watch over the son they shared. Now, Paul had come to seek out his other son.

Skalany opened her mouth but nothing would come out. There was so much to tell him. It was unbelievable to her that he had missed everything. Savannah's accident, the long struggle back, Kermit's blaming Peter, Peter being busted, all of it....And now that he was here, all she could do was gape sleepily at him, wondering what all he knew.

Just then, Kermit exited the elevator, looking like a man with a mission. He was dressed in the same rumpled clothing of hours earlier so he probably hadn't gone home yet. Skalany looked at Paul and was surprised that his gray-blue eyes seemed to shoot daggers at the ex-mercenary. *He already knows,* Skalany thought.

"Excuse me, Skalany," Paul said, deceptively calm, and strode after Kermit down the hall toward Peter's room.

Paul broke into a run to catch up with Kermit, grabbed him by the shoulder and flattened him up against the wall -- forearm under the Adam's apple, the way he himself had taught Kermit years ago. Strangely enough, Kermit didn't fight it, but Paul was too mad to notice. "I want an explanation," he snarled quietly, "and I want it now." Kermit didn't say a word, and finally Paul registered the fact that Kermit was looking at him with calm resignation and acceptance. Paul reluctantly took his arm away.

Kermit rubbed his throat slightly. "Haven't lost your touch. By the way, welcome back."

"Hell of a homecoming. Thanks for your part in it. You really shouldn't have." The sarcasm and venom was flowing thick as syrup.

"Before you start acting so indignant over the white knight, where the hell were you while the grinder was churning?" Kermit folded his arms and leaned back against the wall and glared as the tables turned.

"Don't start this 'Dad loves him best' crap with me!"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Kermit spat back at him. "He needed you and you let them bust him back to beat cop without lifting a finger!"

The past months were not open to discussion, not yet. Paul Blaisdell was home, for the moment; but he could not risk dragging people back into the web from which he'd miraculously freed himself. Secretly Paul suspected that Kermit knew more about his whereabouts than he let on. Leaving it unspoken protected them all.

"Listen, BOY, I couldn't come here and you know it," Paul defended, then sucked in a deep breath. "As for Peter being busted....I didn't intervene because it was the correct course of action. He made a foolhardy move and the repercussions were fatal."

"So, throw him to the wolves, huh?"

"Seems the wolf in merc's clothing was ready to pounce. Weren't you, Kermit?" That evened the score quite nicely. Kermit fell silent. "When I left, I asked you to look out for him. Should have asked someone to look after both of you."

Paul took advantage of his opening and shoved the younger man toward the lounge for the duel purpose of grabbing coffee and escaping Skalany's prying eyes. Taking a seat and bullying Kermit down beside him, he turned his tone to concern. "Annie says that Savannah is improving remarkably."

"Yes, she is."

"Kermit, you KNOW that kid. You've known him almost as long as I have." Paul felt his anger begin to build. Knowing that his son was in pieces down the hall ground in his guts. Knowing that his other "son" had helped make would could be Peter's last months on earth unbearable pressed salt into that wound. "He screwed up but he wouldn't have hurt that woman for anything. Hell, he nearly died saving her and your daughter two years ago and again today! What's enough for you, Kermit??!! How much of his blood does it take to get YOUR loyalty?"

Kermit accepted the abuse and fury, but, Paul was preaching to the choir. The man was speaking truth already revealed by fading anger and pride.

"I know, I know. After all these months, I finally figured out that I was the one around the bend. What can I say? Self-improvement has never been one of my strong suits."

"Excuse me," a petite floor nurse interrupted the moment of revelation between the two men. "Are you Detective Griffin?"

"Yes," Kermit snapped as they both stood up to accept whatever was to come.

"Detective Caine is conscious. His father sent for you." The nurse turned to leave, only to be stopped by Paul's gentle voice.

"I'm his foster father. How is he?"

"Still serious, but improving. The doctor will be by shortly, but he thinks everything will be fine. Please follow me." The two men trailed after the young woman.

Kermit steeled himself for the disapproving look on Kwai Chang Caine's face as he met the priest outside Peter's room. He was not disappointed. Caine masked his emotions well but Kermit had known the priest long enough to recognize the look when he saw it. Or maybe you want it to be there, Griffin, Kermit thought as they approached.

"Hello." Caine greeted.

"The nurse said he was awake," Kermit said, wasting no time. He couldn't figure out why Caine would send for him.

"He is dozing," Caine said pointedly, looking at Kermit.

Awkward silence reigned. Finally, Kermit could stand it no longer. "Can I see him?"

Without a word, Caine stepped aside and opened the door. Kermit went through, but, as Paul made to follow, Caine halted the older man with a touch. "No."

Paul nodded his understanding. He didn't like it. Peter was his son, lying in there suffering. But this had to be done.

*****

Kermit looked at Peter and felt the ghosts of the past behind him. After Paul had mentioned the car accident, the rest of the memories dredged up to choke him. Just when did it start, anyway? A captain's kid, that he was sure would be spoiled to death and expecting others to do for him, dropped into his life. Instead, the kid was a gutsy go-getter who had to be forced into accepting help from others. Kermit had had to bully his way to become a companion to the kid and even that wasn't enough to keep him out of trouble. Every time the kid turned around, he was getting into something new and Kermit just had to volunteer for the ride.

That was the Peter Caine Kermit had known when the young orphan had come to live with the Blaisdells. Brash and cocky. A mirror to himself......only reflecting light instead of darkness. Nothing had changed in all those years, except Kermit Griffin's eyesight.

Then came Savannah. Kermit thought long and hard about how Peter treated Savannah. Teasing her and Kat by calling them 'dollface' and 'tadpole'. Watched over them when Kermit could not. My family became his family.

Savannah herself had screamed at him that their relationship was like brothers. Sure, they shared the same mentor but that alone didn't forge the bonds of friendship between them. How had it happened? WHEN had it happened? Try as he might, Kermit could not think of the exact instance where he began to look upon Peter as his brother, but he did. Seeing Peter lying there tore at him just as if Marilyn was lying in that bed.

He stepped closer to the bed. "Peter?" Familiar with the kid's expressions by now, he could tell that Peter was on the edge of consciousness. "Peter?" he called louder. "Come on, kid, you can rest all you want - just let me say this. Peter!"

Peter's eyelids fluttered a bit and opened. His expression changed from one of dizzying pain to confusion to guilt. He opened his mouth to speak when Kermit interrupted him.

"Think you ought to just live here and save time, kid," Kermit joked to stave off his confession. *Coward,* he thought.

Peter was tired from his life and death struggle. The doctors had said one bullet had broken Peter's hip, an orthopedic injury that would heal after more surgery and months of care. The other bullet had torn its way through his intestines, shredding flesh and vein and causing massive internal hemorrhaging. His condition was classified as serious. Even though the young man was improving, Kermit Griffin had been privy to enough hospital lingo to understand that 'serious' still mean 'life threatening.'

That knowledge propelled Kermit forward. "Kid...Peter. I know it's just words and does a hell of a lot of good now, but ... I'm sorry. God, I'm the sorriest bastard that walked the face of this earth. How can you ever forg...no. Don't worry about that. Just heal. Get better so you can do what you should have done months ago and laid me flat on my ass. Break my jaw if that'll make things even. Hell, with what I've done, you deserve several hundred freebies."

"Ker...." Peter rasped.

"Don't interrupt me, Caine," Kermit snapped. Underneath, he appreciated the line that Peter was throwing him to save his ego but, if he ever wanted to look Peter or Savannah in the eye again, he had to get this out himself. "Peter.., I don't know where to start. How about at the beginning when my guess turned out to be right and yours wrong and I blamed you? That was inexcusable in and of itself. I was full of rage, full of pure, unadulterated terror, then I took it out on you."

"It was...my fault-" Peter began at a light whisper but cut himself off as Kermit strode to his side in two seconds, sunglasses in his face, still being careful to not jostle the injured man but not wanting to lose the intensity of his words.

"I don't want to hear that from you!" Kermit stated, jabbing a finger at Peter's chest. "You blame yourself for everything, from your orphan status when you were twelve to Desert Storm to the sinking of the Titanic! THIS WAS NOT YOUR FAULT! It was an accident. Just a stupid cosmic accident that she happened to be there at the same time. Look, if you think about it, it was MY fault! If I wasn't at the precinct, she wouldn't have been coming in to drag me to lunch!"

Peter smiled weakly at that thought and Kermit felt the beginnings of a sardonic grin himself. A good sign.

"Anyway, you made up for it by being there when I was too stupid and pigheaded to listen to you," Kermit continued. "You were right and had the guts to follow your instincts. I was still too busy thinking about myself and what I had lost and wallowing in my blame and anger. I'll never be able to thank you enough for that...."

Peter sighed. It was still tough for him not to blame himself but he'd had enough watching Kermit beat himself up. "Okay," he whispered. "Scorecard...even. How's that...?"

"The scorecard's far from even, Pete," Kermit said. "I just hope I'll live long enough to pay you back." He saw Peter beginning to tire. "Look, we'll take this up again later. In the meantime, you enjoy their hospitality or I'm nailing your bed sheets to the floor! You got that?"

He turned, gesturing a friendly good-bye wave as he walked out.

*****

When Savannah heard the key twisting in her back door, she leaped from the bed. There was no way she'd let him see how exhausted she was from that nightmare at the hospital. Memories were coursing through her mind, leaving behind a thundering headache in their wake. Making her way down the hall, using the wall for support, she went to meet the unknown reaction.

Kermit stood in his own home, feeling like a stranger. He was filled with shame at the way he'd fought with the one person who accepted him at face value, knew his every failure and blemish and loved him in spite of it. The storm that had descended on both of them in that hospital waiting room had left them both washed clean. Both had rained out their raging emotions. What remained was the core of feeling that drew him to her in the first place.

He caught sight of her coming down the hall. Though she tried to hide it, Savannah was holding the wall. She must be wiped out. Without greeting or hesitation, he went to her, drawing her into his arms, feeding her with his strength.

"K...Ke...Kermit." Still, after all this time, when she was tired, the words would falter.

Bending his head, he drank in the smell of her hair and stroked her back. The sound of her broken speech twisted inside him once again. It was nothing short of a miracle that she was here living and breathing and filled with her precious self. It was unbelievable that he'd even had the unmitigated gall to raise his voice to her.

Things were so much clearer now...now that he'd put those crushing months of fury behind him. Despair at the thought of her suffering. Failure at being both mother and father to Kat. Rage at the events that had ripped Savannah from his life. There had been times when Kermit had felt the physical pressure of those burdens burning into his skin. Now, they were gone.

All that remained was Kermit and Savannah. The way it was supposed to be.

Savannah raised her head from his chest. "God, Kermit. I'm s...sorry," she said softly, raising her hand to caress his cheek where she had slapped him. "After all you've gone through for me, I-"

He silenced her needless apology with his mouth on hers. Blending into that familiar taste, he lost himself in her once again. Coming up for air, he offered one short reply. "I was wrong but we'll talk about it later."

Lifting her delicate frame into his arms, he carried her to their bedroom. Savannah nuzzled into his neck, filling her senses with the scent of his body. The clean blue aftershave he wore -- none of that pretentious department store fare. Coffee, he lived and breathed coffee. A slight indefinable aroma of man-flesh. The scent of him excited her...always.

They had made love since her return but this was different. The culmination of a journey back from hell. Now, as she kissed her way down his neck, she relived years worth of soft touches. In one moment, they were resting on their bed, melting into soft sheets and sex.

To him, there was no sound except that of her breath. No touch other than her skin. No movement beside their bodies pressing against each other. Now, there were no barriers between them. Clothing and hurt and uncertainty were removed.

Parting her lips once again to taste her sweetness, he slid his hand down her gently rocking hips, feeling her moan with excitement into his mouth. Kermit touched every gentle inch of his wife's body, following a path across her precious body that he'd ached for every moment that had been apart. She was back in body and spirit, in his bed and heart and life. Her light touch on his skin left him dizzy with desire for her. She stroked and beckoned him into her warm body. Each lost themselves to the joy of passion.

Savannah wanted to love him, wanted to love away all the pain he suffered in her absence. This man, so full of force and strength, had borne all for her. He had dragged her back from oblivion and crawled every painful inch beside her during her recovery. He had cared for their daughter and held a place for Savannah in a life she couldn't remember. She had so much to make up to him.

Locked in each other's arms, bodies melted into one another, the lovers whispered promises and loving sentiments. Moving together in that familiar rhythm, they loved each other in welcome and forgiveness until their bodies exploded with joy and release, leaving them to rest in each other's arms. As they had and would for all time.

One body and one spirit. Granted another chance.

The vision was stuck in a loop, replaying over and over in the same nauseating sequence. <Kermit...I have to find Kermit.> She was chanting it. Digging for her keys. Kneeling before him. He felt the gun more than saw it.

<Faster! Move faster!> He was clutching at her shoulders. Trying to spin. <Faster, dammit. Can't let her die. Move! Not again!!>

"Peter? Peter, it's okay."

Cool hand. <NO! I have to move. Get her behind me. Not again!>

"Shhhh....it's just a dream." Savannah stroked his forehead, trying to coax him from the midst of his whimpering nightmare.

The tendrils of the dream faded, beaten back by a soft voice. A gentle, friendly touch called to him. Its comfort swiftly gave way to the dull ache in his body. Harsh pain hidden by a mask of drugs vibrated inside his flesh. Turning slightly, he took in the warm smile of his friend.

"Welcome back," she whispered in her customary drawl. Taking his hand, Savannah pulled the chair, her home for the last hour, closer to the patient. She had been watching some torturous nightmare play across her friend's features. The pain was evident, physical and emotional. Her family was the root and, hopefully, the cure.

With a hoarse whisper, Peter answered with genuine pleasure, "Suppose I could say the same to you." At least he'd been able to save her this time. It made his pain less important.

"Peter..." She'd lain awake all night long, wondering what she could say. Lying beside her husband with the memories of a lifetime dancing through her mind, she tried to come up with the words to express her sorrow for his pain, her joy at the recollections of him as part of their family, and her gratitude for his selfless protection.

She knows. Surely Kermit had filled her in. She'll hate me, too. Still to weak to raise his head, he turned slightly to face her. To accept her accusations. "I'm sorry. I don't expect your forgiveness."

Taking a deep breath, the petite woman rose to her full height to stand with authority over the fallen police officer. "Sorry for what? For getting blood all over my favorite blouse? Well, we can remedy that with a trip to your local dry cleaner, sugar."

Passing the offer of generous avoidance by, Peter lightly tugged his hand away. "I'm sorry for wrecking your life."

"My life isn't wrecked, Peter." Shaking her head in pretend amusement, she said, "I have a loving husband, an adorable daughter, and a wonderful friend who saved my life so that I could continue to be with them." Smiling warmly at him, she added, "And news that my sweet friend Peter is going to be just fine." Paul and Caine had happily given them the news when Savannah and Kermit arrived at the hospital.

He was wrong. She didn't know. Peter thought that surely Kermit would have told her by now. "I'm the reason you were hurt, Savannah." Losing his strength rapidly, he turned away.

"God save me from all the male martyrs in my life!" she groaned, and gently touched her friend's handsome face to turn it back toward her. "Peter, I have some things to tell you."

"You don't understand-"

"No, my friend. YOU don't understand," she snapped. "Now shut up and let me finish!" Savannah was feeling more in control than she had in months. Now, she was ready to put things right. It was time. "You tend to take all the blame for any heartbreak in your circle, Peter. And we Griffins have allowed you to do that. After that accident in the mountains, you felt that Kat and I were hurt because of you. We were so wrapped up in our own lives afterward that we let you. I'm sorry for that."

"This is different, Savannah. You were shot because I-"

"I was shot by an evil young man who lives by the gun." Holding he hand in hers, Savannah tried to make HIM understand. "Your professional decision had nothing to do with me or Kat or Kermit. You didn't DO anything to hurt us. And yesterday, you put yourself at risk to keep me alive."

Her gratitude embarrassed him. How could he accept it? How could he feel vindicated in the face of her loss?

"Peter," she tried to fill her words with the heartfelt emotion that had beaten its way around her mind since she'd learned the whole story, "Kermit was so thrown off by his own loss that he turned on you in his grief. He's so sorry.

"As for me,"-- she held the break in her voice closed as tightly as possible -- "I can't take any more losses. Peter, you are part of our family and our lives. You saved my life and because of YOU, I have a future with my husband and my child. I can't spare you. Neither can Kermit."

Peter didn't want to listen. He didn't want to be absolved. He wanted to be held responsible but he found he was grasping her outstretched hand and trying to accept the comfort she was offering. "Does he know you're here?" Peter asked. He had been wondering if the image of Kermit, telling Peter Caine to slug him, was a dream. No way did Kermit Griffin ever offer something like that!

Savannah smiled. "Peter," she chided as she brushed away a hair from his face, "he's right outside. He brought me here, then he gave the doctors and nurses the third degree about how they were treating you." She squeezed his hand. "He loves you so much, Peter," she told him, her eyes twinkling. "You're the brother that took David's place in his heart. You know, I think that losing your friendship was just as much responsible for his crazed behavior as my condition. No wonder he was running into walls!"

Peter had to grin at the image that evoked and Savannah laughed with him. Then, she couldn't stop herself. She leaned down to hug his prone form comfortingly.

"Ouch!"

Jerking back as if she'd been burned, she babbled, "Oh God! I'm sorry. Are you all right? I'll get the nurse!"

Coughing in between laughter, Peter said, "Kidding, dollface. Kidding."

"Don't call me that," she answered, grinning at the ages old joke between them. "Come back to our family, Peter," she murmured. "Please forgive yourself and Kermit and come home."

Peter swallowed the rising lump in his throat. Forgiving himself was never easy. But he wanted to come home. "I'll try," he whispered, lying back in an exhausted heap on his pillow. "I'll try."

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