Kermit Griffin guided his wife carefully through the rear entrance of the precinct. Given the tidal wave of memory she had experienced and the trauma of Blood Lao's assault, her state of mind was quite fragile. With one arm locked firmly around Savannah's shoulders, he focused on one goal -- getting her in and out as quickly as possible.

He would have rather been secluded with her at home, but the line up wouldn't wait. The would-be assassin's wounds had been superficial; after only three days in the hospital, he had been released into police custody. There would be no screw ups with this case. Every phase was being examined beneath a department microscope, with all eyes focused on the enemy.

The woman who had seemed so prepared and calm before leaving their home was now beginning to tremble within the circle of his arms. As they moved quickly through the sparsely populated halls, the prickling heat of fear began to grow. Savannah's steps began to lag, slowing their progress.

"You okay, Scarlett?" Kermit brought them to a stop in the hall, a few feet from Line Up. He already knew the answer, as two terrified green eyes focused on his.

"Y-yes," she muttered, closing her eyes in frustration as the word stumbled over her lips. The tremor was blossoming inside her stomach at the thought of laying eyes on the killer once again. A killer who had sparkled gleefully as he anticipated murdering her days before. A killer who had showered her and her baby with gunfire. A killer so devoid of human compassion that he would murder indiscriminately.

"Hi there." Jody Powell approached the tense pair quietly. She had ridden out this painful chapter with them and felt equal relief at nearing the journey's end. Running a gentle hand down her friend's arm, she said, "They'll be ready for us in a minute."

Kermit felt the change in Savannah's body. Rigid shoulders tensed under his hand. Breath pounded from her chest with increasing force. But most of all, the panic assaulted him, the terror of a trapped animal in her eyes. Damp, helpless pools begged for deliverance from this burden.

Holding her cheek in one hand, he cursed the old inadequacies once again. Was there any way to spare her this pain? "Jody," he said, never releasing those beautiful eyes looking to him for help, "does she have to do this?"

Blowing out a deep breath, Jody offered the reluctant confirmation. "Yes." Turning her attention to her shaky blond friend, she sympathetically touched Savannah's hair. "The DA wants no room for error. There has to be a line up for the Wong shooting and since you are the only eye witness--"

"Hello there!" Molly Strenlich called as she made her usual rapid-fire approach down the hall. Stray red curls bouncing around her face, she was the picture of jovial confidence. Not giving a moment's hesitation in the face of such obvious tension, Molly made herself part of the group.

Molly lowered her voice slightly, as the force of Savannah's building tension reached out to her as well. "Savannah, Jody thought that someone from Victim's Services might be able to make things a little easier for you today when--"

"I have to go!" Savannah pulled from Kermit's grip in one jerking motion. "I have to go!" The terrified retreat echoed over her shoulder as she dove into the ladies room, a blur of color and emotion beating an impassioned exit from her fear.

The sanctified privacy of the ladies room held little barrier for Kermit Griffin. Draw like a magnet to her pain, he followed seconds behind the panicked woman, only to be stopped abruptly.

"Wait, Kermit," Molly delicately ordered, holding herself between the ex-mercenary and his wife's hiding place. "Let me."

"She needs me and I'm going in there." He tried to step around her only to be countered by Molly's small, determined body.

"Kermit," Molly insisted, shifting to her most persuasive cadence, "YOU didn't see him. You didn't get shot by him. I know you want to shield her from this, after all she's been through, but you can't." Seeing his posture begin to relax, she handed her purse to Jody. "Savannah has to be able to get through this. Take something back from her attacker. Let me go in and talk to her."

Turning Savannah over to someone else was a struggle. What he wanted was to grab her and get the hell out of there. "This is hard for her. It's too much for her to handle right now."

Molly had seen this before -- family members unwilling to allow the catharsis required of victims as they faced down their attackers. "It's hard for you, too, Kermit." She spoke softly and gently patted his chest. "Trust me. Give me fifteen minutes with her."

"Let Molly talk to her, Kermit," Jody added her support. In the year since Molly had given birth to the Office of Victim's Services, she had seen her make a difference with unsteady witnesses. Easing them through the process and offering a less institutional style of support. "Come on. I'll buy the coffee."

"Fifteen minutes," he conceded, and reluctantly walked down the hall. Coffee being the last thing on his mind.

*****

Molly Strenlich creaked open the ladies room door to sounds of violent retching. Secluded by a stark metal stall, Savannah was out of sight. Delicately avoiding any embarrassing conversation, Molly grabbed several paper towels, doused them with cool water, and slipped them under the edge of the door. After a second or two, a pale hand grabbed them from her.

Patiently, the counselor waited on the stiff sofa cushions. In a few moments, one shaky woman made her way from the stall and went directly to the sink. Gulping water and splashing her already damp cheeks, she tried to reassemble her dignity.

Without speaking, Molly walked over to hold back the long blond hair from the rushing water in the sink. Handing Savannah a dry paper towel, she broke the silence. "Feeling better?"

Steadying herself against the basin, she answered, "Yes, thank you. How do I look?" Hands trembling less as the volcano in her stomach calmed, Savannah smoothed her rumpled appearance.

Stepping back and smiling warmly, Molly said, "Well, do you want the truth or the 'husband' reply?"

Amused at the distraction, she smirked, "Which ever one is b-better."

"You look great. Wish I looked that good after I threw up." Molly took the woman's hand and pulled her to the sofa.

"Kermit told me how you and Frank took care of our baby," -- a small leftover sob shook free -- "after the shooting. Thank you."

Molly felt a pang at the memory. Frank standing in their living room holding that tiny little girl. Traces of blood scattered through her hair and on his clothes. Kat trembling from her nightmarish ordeal. "We were glad to help, Savannah. And I'd like to help you, if you'll let me."

"Don't think hostage rescue really applies here, Molly." Glancing toward the door, she kept expecting Kermit to come in and take her out of there. She could always count on a rescue from him.

"Oh," Molly giggled, "forgot you weren't around for the big career change. You are now looking at the head of the 101st's Office of Victim's Services." Leaning over in girlfriend fashion, she whispered, "It was one of those compromises Frank and I worked out. He's more comfortable with only one of us being in the path of a bullet." It had been a tough reconciliation period. After much give and take, the scales had worked themselves out.

Reclining backward, she smiled. "I was tired of talking to lunatics, anyway."

Stroking her face with a handkerchief, Savannah closed her eyes. "Then I'd say you were in the wrong place right now, Molly." Lunatic. Scared of everything and everyone.

"I'd say your reactions were completely sane, lady. If you weren't nervous, I'd think you were in serious trouble." Now, she was getting somewhere. The first step in working out a problem was to name it. "Can you tell me why you're afraid?"

"Oh gee," she rolled her eyes sarcastically, "being in the same room with the man who tried to kill me TWICE could be it."

"He's under arrest, Savannah," Molly replied, ignoring the flippant tone. "Blood Lao can't hurt anyone. The evidence is stacked up to his snotty little nose and there's an eye witness, YOU, to both incidents. Very strong case."

Standing up quickly, Savannah sought refuge in a rhythmic pace across the confines of the ladies room. "So I just walk in there, point a finger, and it's all over, huh? Well it's not! Not for me! There's the trial and appeals and I'm still not completely well. I may never be like I was. It's not that easy! Everybody acts like it's over but it's not! Like everything is the same. It's just like after Eric--" Abruptly the tirade screeched to a halt with her feet.

Watching the thoughts bubble to surface, Molly let them come. "Why don't we take these one at a time?" Reaching out once again to the limp hand, she pulled her back down to sit. "Things are not the same as before, are they?"

Shaking her head, Savannah crinkled at the truth. "No. Everything just went on without me and I can't catch up. I thought it would be different."

"Different how?"

"Fixed." Savannah twisted the embroidered linen square in her hand. "I'd remember and then things would be fixed. It would all be over."

"But it's not, is it?" Molly asked, gently prying through to the heart.

Huffing a broken laugh, Savannah replied, "It's worse. Now there's just more piled on." Looking down into her lap, she whispered, "Be careful what you wish for, right?"

"Only way I know to move a pile is one shovel at a time, dear." Molly took the soft white hands into her own. "Let's look at the facts, shall we? Who lived when everyone thought she was on her way to the grave? You. Who learned to walk and talk and think again when almost everyone thought it was impossible? You. Who can put the root of all this heartache behind bars for good? You, again!

"No, it won't undo any of the pain, but it will put the control back in your hands." Giving those hands a gentle squeeze, Molly offered what help she could. "Over the past year, I've sat with dozens of victims as they viewed suspects in line ups. You have nothing to be afraid of physically. He can't see you or hear you or get anywhere close to you."

"I-I-I know that," Savannah stammered. "It's just that... well...seeing him again. I mean...he took it all away and what if....I don't want to lose it again."

"What? You think you're gonna lay eyes on the little monster again and all the memories that came back will be sucked out at his request? You're giving him more power than he has. The tables have turned now. The good guys are in control, Savannah. The minute you go in there and name him as the criminal, you're in charge again."

"Are most witnesses this terrified?" The fear had pooled in her knees and she had serious doubts about standing.

"Some more. Some less." Molly sat up and wrapped comforting arm around the narrow shoulders of her client. "That's what I'm here for, to help you through this. That scary husband of yours loves you dearly, but he'd rather help keep you from doing this than understand that this is a step toward recovery. Am I right?"

Kermit did try to help her avoid any bumps in her path, trying to clear her way as she passed. He couldn't clear this obstacle. To be eradicated, the obstacle must be identified and accused properly. "Why does everything have to be a mountain?" she wondered out loud.

Molly squeezed once more. "Well, let's survey the options here. Can't tunnel under this mountain. Can't go around it. Can't go over it." With a gleam of enthusiasm, she chimed, "Why not just stick a wad of dynamite in and blow it to hell?"

"I think your metaphors could use a little work." The tension between her eyes relaxed a millimeter. Savannah tried, with a bit more success this time, to swallow the knot in her chest.

Walking side by side, Molly eased the woman out into the corridor. "That's what Frank says! Everybody's a critic."

*****

Kermit, his heart pounding, had to steel himself from pacing. True, it would make him feel better but it wouldn't make Savannah feel better. Her well-being was more important. He checked his watch for the thousandth time. One more minute and ladies room or no, he was going in there after her, taking her under his arm, and walking her out of here until she was strong enough.

He blamed himself for her fragile state of mind. If he hadn't been so crazed about Peter, maybe she wouldn't have had as much difficulty. Reining him in and bringing him back to his senses was a job he wouldn't wish on anyone. He cursed himself that it had been necessary in the first place. If he hadn't been so damn stubborn-!

Kermit rose from his slouch on the wall as Savannah walked out of the rest room, red-rimmed eyes, makeup streaking slightly, but head held high. Kermit smiled; he'd never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

"Scarlett?" The name was an unspoken question.

Savannah took his arm like she was attending a debutante ball. "Let's go nail the bastard," she told him quietly. Her tone was firm and certain. Inside was a different story, but she wasn't about to show them that. Her tummy was doing flip-flops but she wasn't about to let that scum walk the streets. She held onto Kermit's arm, somehow containing her anxiety, as they walked into the room together.

Together forever, Savannah thought, squeezing Kermit's arm.

Jody Powell went about the business of being an efficient detective as she delivered the spiel to yet another witness, even though this one was a friend. "Savannah, all you have to do is to study the faces before you once the men are lined up. You don't have to worry about your safety. They can't see you but you can see them. Please take your time, even though you may be certain. Study each face to be absolutely sure and tell me if you see the man who fired on you in front of the precinct last year."

Savannah nodded her understanding as a new fear swept through her. She stifled an involuntary whimper as Jody called over the intercom for the men to be brought into view. Swallow it, she thought.....and she did.

Kermit felt her body tense and wrapped a supporting arm around her as she watched each man walk in and take his place on the line indicated. Broderick kept a close eye as the men, when ordered, turned to the left to show the unseen witness their profile and, after a bit, turned back to face the one-way glass.

Savannah surveyed the faces in turn. She recognized one as an employee of the department. He was a cop, who'd just transferred in for the week. Obviously, they thought Savannah would not recognize him after seeing him once. She probably wouldn't have, before the accident. But Kermit was teaching her memory games--and that very man had been her unknown subject one day.

There were three more she'd never seen before in her life -- but the other man was the image that was etched on her brain and in her soul. This was the man that had torn her family apart. All of her pain, all of Kermit's and all of Peter's agony rested on him.

Jody saw Savannah's eyes narrow and stepped in before she could say anything. "You have to be sure, Savannah."

Molly was next to Savannah, lending her strong, silent support. Savannah nodded her head in reply and studied the faces carefully. Her gaze came to rest on the face she remembered as the killer.

"Number four." Her Southern accent rang out as clear as a bell. Her tone was strong and sure. She gripped Kermit's arm again as she looked into Jody's eyes. "It's number four."

Jody nodded. "Take them out," she commanded over the intercom.

Kermit hands burned with need; the need to choke the life from that swaggering little murderer was screaming at him. No sentence would be enough. They would never be even. Vengeance would not be his, though not today, at least. Kermit held his wife's hand and tucked away his volcanic fury. The future would always be there for Kermit and Blood Lao.

Savannah watched Blood Lao walk out of the room and out of her nightmares. With those two words, he was gone. The bastard would be sent to jail. It was only a matter of time now. He was surrounded by cops and she was surrounded by those that she loved. Things were back to the way they were supposed to be! She thought of that stupid child's puzzle again and smiled as she felt the pieces clicking into place. She was free.

Kermit squeezed her shoulders. "How are you doing? Are you all right?"

"Never better." Without another word, Savannah turned to her husband and, in this very public place, and kissed him thoroughly, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Goodness, you two!" Molly couldn't help but tease them as the rest of the officers melted away into the hall to avoid the embarrassment. "You'll stick that way."

"If I'm lucky," Kermit replied, eyes never leaving his wife's glistening green sanctuary.

"Thanks so much, Molly," Savannah said, tearing her eyes away from her husband. "I might still be hiding in the ladies room if not for you. Frank must be so proud of your work."

"Well, girlfriend," Molly looped a friendly arm through Savannah's and began to walk with her out into the hall, "that reminds me of something. How'd you like a job? You'd be a natural at this! You've been through the process from the inside out. You're married to a cop, so you have scads of insight into the quirks of police officers and procedures--"

"Hey! Just who are you accusing of having quirks?" Kermit held the door open as the ladies passed.

"Oh, certainly not you, Mr. No Personnel File." Molly winked, then turned her attentions back to a now silent Savannah Griffin. "No better way to work though your own troubles than to help someone else. How 'bout it?"

Momentarily stunned by Molly's rapid-fire bombshell, Savannah paused then held up her hands. "Whoa, Molly. I don't think I'm qualified for--"

"Sure you are."

"I'm not interested in taking a job, Molly. I've been away from Kat for far too long. She needs me."

"Be a volunteer. Work as much or as little as you want. I'll take what I can get." Molly battered away at the resistance and arguments.

"Molly," Kermit chimed in, wrapping his arm around Savannah's slim shoulders, "I'm not sure this is a good idea."

Waving away his dissension, Molly shook her unruly red hair. "Of course it's a good idea! It's a perfect idea! So, Savannah, you want to join my team? How 'bout it!?"

Savannah sucked in a deep breath and slid her hand inside Kermit's pocket. "I really don't think so, right now, Molly. I'm sorry."

"Can't blame a gal for trying to lure you into a life of emotional risk and no pay." Molly dug through her bulging handbag, then pressed a white card into Savannah's hand. "You call me if you need me, okay?"

"Okay. I will." Savannah dropped the card into Kermit's pocket, and the pair walked away.

"I'm not giving up!" Molly shouted in an excited challenge as the couple disappeared around the corner.

*****

His father was hovering again. Granted, Kwai Chang Caine sat four feet away, stiff and straight in a hard back chair, but his spirit was hovering over his son.

Peter had just opened his eyes. Without a sound, he lay still, watching his father. Except for the times when others had visited, his father had been at his side, sometimes touching, sometimes simply being in the room. He was a constant. Now, at this time of upheaval, Peter Caine needed a constant. An anchor.

"Pop...." he whispered, his voice the texture of wet gravel. Peter shifted uncomfortably between the sheets and was immediately sorry as a stab of pain flash upward from his hip and ate through his middle.

"You must lie still, my son." Caine had his hands on his son's chest, holding him through the sudden rush of pain. "Your leg has been immobilized to allow the injury to your hip to heal."

The blinding flash of pain began to fade and Peter finally took in the apparatus attached to his leg. Looking to his left, he greeted his old friend -- the morphine pump. Tapping the delivery device, Peter felt a comforting surge of pain relief speed through his veins. "God, I love technology." Peter forced a smile toward his father's worried frown. "I'm gonna live, Pop. Don't look so grim."

"You must rest. You can not risk reopening your wounds or disturbing the bones that have been rejoined." Caine reached for a cup of water and held his son's head so that Peter could gulp down the liquid.

Peter gratefully swallowed and lay back into the discomfort of his bed. "When can I go home?"

"Still the world's second worst patient, I see." Dark and solid, Kermit Griffin walked into the room. Pausing beside the doorway, he stood suspended between entrance and exit. Hands in his pockets, the man held nervously still as if waiting to be dismissed.

"And you would be the first, right?" Peter quipped back in a familiar banter. The confirmations began register in the young man's mind. The memories of the other day -- of Kermit's confessions and request for forgiveness -- had not been a dream at all.

Kermit took the reply as an invitation and moved over to the bedside.

Studying his guest carefully, Peter took in the worn edges of the man. Fury and blistering anger no longer radiated from his physical self. A thick layer of something else seemed to cover him. Kermit looked around the room with an absent observation. Nodding to Caine. Examining the bland furnishings with undue attention.

In his drugged state of days before, Peter had registered Kermit's appearance as an apparition, wishful thinking. Savannah had tried to reassure him that Kermit had indeed felt a change of heart. It took face to face contact to verify it for himself.

"I will wait outside." Caine faded away into the hall, leaving the men to reassemble the structure of their relationship.

"Savannah picked Blood Lao out of a line up this morning." Kermit's voice was strong but quiet.

"Is she all right?"

"Yes. She will be. Molly was a big help." Kermit looked out the window. "I think this will be good for Savannah. She needs to feel in control."

"Kermit...." Peter struggled for words. The awkward silence pranced in between the two men, challenging each.

"Is there anything you need? Hotdog? 'Playboy'?"

So this is how we're playing it, Peter thought, almost relieved not to be facing another process of soul rending and rebuilding. "Hotdog, yes. 'Playboy' might send me back to surgery," came the answer as Peter cast a comical glance downward.

"Think I can manage that." Kermit eased up one hand and removed his shades, baring himself with one gesture.

Peter summoned his courage and opened himself to accept the emotion. Shame seeped from the other man's eyes in an invisible mist, reaching out for exposure. Braided in with the dark-eyed glare was relief -- relief to be revealed. Peter would not dishonor the effort it took Kermit Griffin to acknowledge such raw emotion. He would forgive. He would accept forgiveness. Rebuilding would take time.

"Savannah had an appointment for her final checkup." With his point made, Kermit returned his shades to their perch on his nose. "I'd better go meet her."

"I'm glad she's safe, Kermit." Peter hung out his own plea.

Leaning over the cool chrome bed rail, Kermit Griffin smiled ever so slightly. "I know that. I really know that, kid." Quickly, he straightened his back and moved toward the door. He had almost exited when he stopped short. "I think that went well, don't you?" The words were lightly delivered as Kermit continued to face away from the patient.

Peter grinned and swallowed the laughter that threatened to overtake his battle-weary body. He understood this man. Kermit had humbled himself and admitted shortcomings in his open-wounded way days ago. He wouldn't speak the words again. "Well, not exactly a cover story for 'Bonding and Sharing Weekly', but not bad for a start."

"We have a lot of ground to cover when you're better."

"Oh yeah..."

"That's my line." With that dry retort, Kermit Griffin left the room.

Peter Caine let go of consciousness and fell asleep. A deep sleep no longer haunted by betrayal and pain.

*****

"I'm going to miss Dr. Beason." Savannah strolled along beside her husband, enjoying the feeling of her arm linked with his.

"She was getting far too comfortable bossing me around," Kermit answered, patting the soft hand dipped into the fold of his sleeve. They moved through the bright hospital lighting, happily ignoring others passing through the sterile halls.

"Suppose that's my job, now, sugar."

Still laughing, the couple rounded their way to the bank of elevators. Enjoying the warm feel of resolution, they were surprised to be greeted by a whirlwind of red hair leaping from the elevator.

"Molly! Where in the world are you going in such a hurry?" Savannah gasped, stepping back quickly to get out of the frantic path of Molly Strenlich.

Panting, the woman slammed on the brakes of her loafers and tried to change focus. "Oh, I'm sorry, you two! Just had a line up at the precinct and they sent me here to see a family. Father shot and in the ICU and the wife and kids were....say...." The flushed red features began to soften as she stared at the blonde woman before her. "I could really use your help."

"She just came from the doctor, Molly," Kermit blocked the path of Molly's train of thought. "I'm taking her home."

"Wait just a minute, Kermit." Savannah squeezed his arm again. His protective nature warmed her heart, but got on her nerves. "Molly, I really can't take the job. Really. Kat needs me at home with her. I'm sorry." The pang in her heart began to beat against her words. But, Kat had to take priority now. That wasn't up for negotiation.

Molly remained steady. Pointing toward the ICU waiting area, she drew their attention to a family. A small rumpled woman sat hunched in an orange chair. One exhausted preschooler draped over her lap. A boy, about ten years old, leaned against the woman's shoulder. A thick layer of grief and fear lay over the group.

"Those are the Martins," she looked wearily at them, eyes full of sympathy. "The husband, Jack, was shot during a robbery at the Pizza Hut on Jackson Street last night. He's critical. Mary, the wife, gave a statement but there hasn't been an arrest yet." Molly looked back at her prey. "As you can see, they could use some support. She's been in there with those kids since Jack was brought in."

"She looks like she needs a meal and a shower, huh?" Savannah soaked in the sight of that woman. Wrinkled and worn. Waiting for news. Waiting for the ax to fall on her family. Waiting for the person she loved to die. The heartbreak spoke volumes.

Then she looked up at Kermit. "Is there someplace she could rest and freshen up?" She was talking to Molly, but looking at her husband's sad green shades, for the first time seeing the grief he must have endured.

Grasping at the first bend in her friend's resolve, Molly gasped, "Yes, ma'am! There's an extra section of the nurse's lounge with a shower that families can use." Shoving a huge paper bag into Savannah's hand, she said, "Here are some clothes and sundries I brought for her."

"I'll take Mary and get her fed and rested. You take this kids."

"FABULOUS!" came the victorious shout from Molly's lips. "This is going to be a great partnership, dear!"

"It's just this once," Savannah clarified, following the blur that was Molly down the hall.

"Sure."

"I mean it."

"Whatever you say."

"You don't play fair, sugar."

"Me?!" Molly reached back to grab her hand and pull her along. "I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about."

Bright green eyes rolled in amazement at the master manipulator who had just played her emotions like an old Sunday school piano. Then, Savannah remembered the man she had simply left standing alone at the elevator. Looking back over her shoulder, she opened her mouth to call out to him.

Before she could speak, a warm solid voice greeted her. "I'll pick you up in a couple of hours, Scarlett. Don't over do it." He smiled and pulled down his shades for a wink.

Watching her walk away, Kermit was finally struck with her recovery. She was back and ready to walk alone. He understood where she was going -- into the future.

Pulling out his keys, he strolled into the waiting elevator and let her go.

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