Kermit saw the hair before anything else. That golden hair sprawled out over the ground mixed with dirt and leaves. He was so absorbed in covering the ground between them that he didn't see the gun in her hand. Until it was too late.

The bullet ripped into his arm and dropped him to his knees. His stupidity flamed up through the wound. Peter had told him she was delirious. Warned him he'd left his Beretta with her. The way he'd come tearing through the brush toward her, she must have thought he was one of the animals Peter had ordered her to shoot.

"SCARLETT! It's me!" he yelled, trying to bring her back to reality. The bullet raged inside his flesh.

In response, she fired again, pinning him down behind a tree. There was no way to know how many shots remained in the clip. Maybe he could circle around the camp and come in behind her. As he turned to make his move, he caught sight of Paul through the trees. Paul had raised his weapon and aimed it in the direction of his prone wife. Kermit threw himself in Paul's direction in disbelief as he fired at Savannah.

Kermit Griffin's screams were drowned out by the retort of Paul's weapon. The projectile connected with the cold steel held in the woman's hand. Snapping it from Savannah's hand and flinging her arm across her body. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!!!!" Kermit shouted, grabbing Paul by the collar and shoving him into a tree trunk.

Paul ignored his misunderstanding. Circling around behind Savannah would have only caused her to twist her body to fire in another direction. Possibly injuring herself further. She had to be disarmed quickly. Shooting the weapon from her hand held an economy of solutions to more than one problem.

There was no time to explain Paul's startling resolution to the tense situation. He grabbed the charging detective by the collar and flung him in the direction of his wife. Kermit staggered through the trees and fell beside the now disarmed woman. Grasping her fevered cheeks in his hand, he said gently, "Scarlett...I'm here. Just relax. Help is on the way." Turning his face upward, he shouted, "Where the hell are they?!! Get those damn paramedics down here!!!"

"Kermit..." came her almost inaudible whisper. "Where's Kat....Peter left...."

Leaning down closer to her bruised face, he comforted her. "We found them. Both going to be fine. Don't worry."

"I'm sorry....here..." She was trying to pull something from the pocket of her coat. Kermit reached in and pulled out the note he'd mailed to her days ago, wrapped around a package of gummi bears.

"Hell of a detour for some candy, Sweetcakes."

When she reached up to touch his arm, she felt the blood running out through the bullet hole in his leather coat. "Are you hurt?"

"No. Just scraped my arm on this little hike you arranged, Babe." He wouldn't dare tell her she'd shot him. She had to focus on herself now. Not worry about him. "Hey, if you want your surprise, you'd better pull yourself together."

"Teasin' a girl when she's down. Nice, Griffin," She smiled and tried to laugh, only to dissolve into a fit of coughing and gagging. When she could breathe again, Savannah feebly reached out to her husband. "Kermit...it hurts so much. Please help me."

"Just hold on a little longer, Babe. Help's on the way. Hold on to my hand." He laced his fingers with hers. That same gesture from long ago. Trying to flood her with his strength. By then, the paramedic had reached the victim. Pulling back the blanket, he exposed the gruesome compound fracture of her thigh. Kermit fought back a reaction. He didn't want to upset her further. The man had to move her injured limb to slide an emergency splint underneath. White hot agony forced a scream up through her throat and pushed her over into unconsciousness once again.

At the piercing sound of her scream, the detective grabbed a handful of the paramedic's hair and gave his head a sharp twist. "Watch it, you son-of-a-bitch!!" Snaking his other hand under her limp neck, he called out to her, "Scarlett...Savannah! Hold on!"

Suddenly, there was a firm hand on his shoulder. Peter Caine, who looked like he'd just gone ten rounds with Tyson, had somehow made his way down the cliff and to his friend's side. "Kermit, let me help her."

The paramedic spoke up. "Mister, *I'M* the one with the training here. This woman doesn't have a lot of time. We've got to get her...."

"SHUT UP!" Kermit screamed at the man, then turned his attention to Peter. He'd trusted this man with his life on more than one occasion. This time, Peter was asking him to trust him with more than his life. His heart. His wife. "Can you help her?"

"If I don't try, I don't think she'll be able to survive the trip up that cliff and down that gravel road." Peter was placing all his faith in his ability. Not only his ability to help heal Savannah's body, but in his ability to reach out to his father. In his condition, he needed Caine's backup. *The one time I actually ask for backup, huh, Pop.* Peter couldn't miss the humor in this fact. Now, he was begging for the very gift he'd slammed his father for giving days ago. Admitting that he wasn't strong enough. Not happy with that fact, but willing to acknowledge it to save this life fading away on the ground before him.

"Do it."

Peter limped over to the other side of Savannah's unconscious body. Gently, he rested one hand on her stomach and the other one on her burning forehead. "Kermit, she's got to have your help. She may try to fight me...you know how she is," Peter claimed, trying to convey his urgency. "She wouldn't let me try this before because she knew I was hurt."

Kermit understood. His wife could be as stubborn as a mule, to quote her own phrase. "If she fights you this time...I'll kick that beautiful behind of hers! Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"Touch her and relax. Try to open your mind and I'll do the rest." Peter only had a few seconds to prepare his friend for the intimacy that was to come. "Kermit...you'll have to let go if you're going to help me to help her. You're a private person...forget that for now. This link is going to be, how shall I say it - up close and personal."

He understood and nodded his acceptance. Privacy could be damned.

"This is BULLSHIT! You people are going to let this woman die!" The paramedic was aghast at what he considered New Age Voodoo interfering with his job. "She's a Level One trauma who's been bleeding out in the cold all fucking night long!" He was reaching to pull Peter away from his patient when Paul stepped into action.

Paul Blaisdell had never seen Peter's Shaolin training displayed. Over the past few years, he'd accepted the mystic side of his foster son's life. Peter seemed to be able to balance the rational and spiritual aspects of his life with greater success as time had passed. Whether he believed in this was irrelevant. Paul believed in his son. In both of his sons. "Kid," he began as he placed a firm hand on the young rescuer, "this is NOT your call." The pressure on his shoulder and the bulge in the older man's coat, convinced the young paramedic to withdraw.

Peter Caine could feel Savannah's essence dissipating beneath his fingers. Before he could heal her body, the retreat into the afterlife must be halted.

*Kermit, focus on your love for her. Not the fear. Fear will push her away." Peter attempted to communicate the requirements for success to his friend. Even as the thought flowed from him, he could feel Kermit's resistance fade. He was willing to give all of himself. Every thought and ounce of energy to hold onto his wife.

Pulling Kermit's mind into the link, Peter focused their combined energy into Savannah's body. The fever and pain manifested itself into a substantial barrier. Pounding that wall like a battering ram, he fought through to find her consciousness. If he was to heal her body, her mind would be the gateway. A brilliant flash of light greeted them as they joined Savannah in the realm of the mind.

She sat on a patch of green grass beside a river bank. Staring out across the rolling water. Her face was free from the twisted expressions of pain that racked her physical body. She was peaceful.

Beside her sat a large ornate steamer trunk. Polished and decorative. Kermit's first instinct was to go toward her. This scene struck an all too familiar cord with him. Visions of a park in his mind. A place where peace and rest called him into the afterlife. Before he reached her, Peter grabbed his arm.

"Kermit," he began, reading his friend's memory, "you can't pull her out. She has to leave on her own." Then he added, "Trust me."

He did trust Peter. He had no choice.

Peter looked around and tried to adjust to this reality. "Where is this place? For Savannah, I mean."

Though he'd never been here, Kermit knew where they were from his wife's descriptions. This was her favorite spot in Memphis. A park that looked out over that muddy river she was so fond of. Beall Street was directly behind him. Savannah had been dying to bring him here since they met. "We'll stay in the Peabody, watch the duck parade, then we carouse down Beall Street until dawn. Boy, will you be relaxed," she'd teased on a day when he had been too stressed to breathe. Wanted to drag him to this dive called The Rendezvous. Her favorite barbeque place. Share all her haunts with him. This wasn't what she'd had in mind.

"She's home...in Memphis, Peter." Roots were foreign concepts to Kermit Griffin. That was...before her. Savannah clung to them. No matter where she went, *this* was who she was deep inside. Even as she enmeshed herself in the frantic pace of her husband's world, Savannah held firm to her true personality. This easy way of life she tried to hold onto in their home. Making him stop to sit with her to talk. About nothing, sometimes. Filling their home with cozy corners. Places that relaxed him in spite of himself.

Savannah shared *her* world with him. The comfort she generously rained on the ex-mercenary could fog the grit that stuck to him every day. *Funny,* he thought, *I was afraid of being a bad influence on her.* Hers was the stronger medicine. Letting her go was NOT an option.

Cautiously, Peter sat down beside her. This was uncharted territory for the newly-trained healer. Every move must be weighed. Every word chosen with care. Maintaining this link required tremendous will. Will enough to perform the task existed. Strength enough to succeed was in short supply. Peter wouldn't have much time. Casually, he sat down beside her as Kermit stood behind with his hands lightly resting on her slender shoulders.

"Hello there, dollface."

Smiling warmly, she greeted him. "Hi, yourself. Isn't this much better than camping?" Leaning her head playfully backward, she grinned at her husband. "I'm so glad you finally got to see 'my place,' Kermit. I was so tired. Now...I feel much better."

Fighting the urge to scream, Kermit remained calm. Following Peter's familiarity, he replied, "Not exactly the way we planned it, is it, Scarlett?"

The trunk beckoned for a comment. Time to reveal its purpose. "Savannah," Peter drew her attention back to the business at hand, "what's in the trunk?"

Sighing gently and patting the smooth surface lovingly, she replied, "Stuff. My stuff." Her eyes clouded with tears as she stared at the sum of her life held within the confines of that luggage.

"What kind of 'stuff', Sweetcakes?" Kermit knelt beside the trunk and took her hand.

"Good things...bad things...my life." It was an emphatic statement filled with a haunting finality. The contents of a life held within this woman's mind. By a thread.

Peter felt his strength waning. "Savannah, I can help you but you have to open up your life-force once again. Do that and we can all go home."

She began to shake her head as the tears rolled down her cheeks. "I can't, Peter. It hurt so much. The pain is blinding. It's in there. When Kat was born, I thought that pain was unbearable." She turned a sad smile to her husband. "Remember, Kermit?"

"I remember," he answered, recalling the agony she'd endured and survived to gift him with a beautiful daughter. "You DID it. Came through like a trooper."

"But that pain had a purpose. This," she hung her head, "has no purpose. Now, it's gone. Away, now. I'm tired...just too tired." She grabbed his hand. A desperate gesture of longing or resignation. He couldn't decide which. "If I open the box, the pain will come back. I'm just not strong enough."

"LISTEN TO ME, dammit! You will not leave me. Do you hear me?!" Kermit stood in front of her. This time, daring to touch her with force. Those narrow shoulders held firmly in his hands, he pulled her up to stand before him. "I'll help you, but you can't leave me. Or Kat. I've BEEN HERE. While you were carrying Kat. I was shot and she came to me and wouldn't let me die. BE STRONG! I love you too much to let you go!"

Doubt raced across her face. Memories of trust given freely and received. But pain rested atop her life. Savannah didn't know if she could wade through it again. In that moment of indecision, she heard a new voice echo in her mind. The voice was energetic and filled with life. *Mama...be strong. Do your best. That's all you ask from me.*

There on the other side of the trunk was a young woman. Long dark hair and twinkling green eyes. Dimples that marked her as her mother's child. A Katherine from another time reached out to her. Flooding a lifetime of strength into her mother's heart. Repaying every ounce of love and guidance. Fulfilling her destiny.

Kat's image. Her essence, focused briefly onto her father. With a quick, affectionate wink, she showered her love onto this precious parent.

The will to live returned. Desire to reach through the years and be worthy of this child's trust overpowered Savannah's dread of the suffering choking out her life-force. Kermit could only stand in amazement as Kat's image grasped Savannah's hand and willingly shared the power of love and light. Together, they raised the lid and life resonated back into Savannah's body.

Cast out of the world of abstract feeling, Peter and Kermit were tossed back into consciousness. Kermit was able to remain upright but his guide connected with the earth beside his writhing patient. Savannah's pain returned full force. Choking out voice and sound. Pushing as she fought against the desire to retreat.

Paul pulled his foster son up from the dirt. "Peter! Talk to me!"

There was no energy left. No power to heal or connect once more to this fragile body before him. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he realized his failure. He'd pulled his friend back from the afterlife into a sea of pain from which he could offer no release. Dooming her to return to death.

Blinded by despair and failure, Peter begged for help. Reached feebly for the one source of power that had never failed to provide solace. Slowly, that familiar warmth crept into his tortured mind. Growing and spreading. Across miles and years. Through pain and regret and resistance. *I am with you, my son. Take my strength. Together, we will mend this broken body.* The voice was sure and strong. Without doubt or reservation.

The power of his father's chi began to thunder through Peter's being. In an instant, his hands returned to Savannah's convulsing body. Her will to resist had long since drained away. She lay her mind and spirit open to accept the healing force of the father and the son. Under the young man's touch, fever dissipated. Breathing eased. Bleeding and broken organs knitted and resumed pushing life through her body. The fractured leg could not be fused but Peter isolated the agonizing pain. Soothing her mind with the knowledge that the pain could be hidden until the facilities of a hospital were available.

Their minds and thoughts blended briefly in the power of the link. Peter was warmed by the volume of her love. Love for Kermit. Love for her friends. And the overwhelming intensity of this mother's love for her child. Peter had been the guide but Kat had been the one to drag her mother back from oblivion. The bond between parent and child knew no bounds. Space and time could not divide them. Savannah had held onto her life for Katherine. No pain or sacrifice would keep her from being there for this child. Or, this child from her mother. Just as no pain or distance or anger would keep HIS father from him.

Briefly, Peter marveled at the woman this tiny girl would become. Kermit's little girl. Tadpole. What left him confused was *how* she'd been able to pierce through time and dimension and get to her mother. She must have had help. Would have help. The same help Peter had called upon moments before. Father.

His insolence hadn't pushed his father away. In his hour of desperation, Caine had crossed the same void to reach him. To fortify and guide him. In the mind of his friend, Peter saw his father's love for him. Saw the reason his father would interfere with his life. Insinuate himself between Peter and danger, even against his wishes. It wasn't because he doubted his skill or disrespected his sovereignty. He was his parent. It was simply what a parent does. No way around that love. It was bigger than hurt feelings and childish resentment. Power beyond measure.

*Yes, my son. You understand correctly.* Caine's gentle voice spoke to Peter's exhausted mind. He could see his father. Slight smile on his lips. Head tilting ever so slightly to the side. *She can be released, now. I will be with you soon.* Breaking the link, Caine allowed Peter to pull back into himself.

Savannah was resting comfortably. Lulled into a sedated rest. Temporarily free from pain. Kermit gratefully rested his hand on her now cooling cheek. Still feeling her essence resonating through his mind. They had always had a connection but now, he'd actually *experienced* her love and thoughts. And Kat...now he would share his earlier rescue experience with Savannah. She'd understand. She had been there and dragged back by this child. And Peter Caine.

The young paramedic had been rendered frozen and silent from the mystic performance. Paul and the dumbfounded rescuer had been witness to something that, for all intents and purposes, could be termed a miracle. They had stared in amazement as energy, radiating a bright blue glow had engulfed the trio of healer, patient, and partner.

Paul shook himself and the mobilized young man into action. "I believe you have a patient to get up that hill, son."

Snapping into action, the paramedic began to evaluate then transport the young woman with the aid of a couple of fireman who'd just arrived. Under the threatening eye of the victim's husband, they slowly moved her through the trees then up to the roadside. Kermit, Peter, and Paul waited as Savannah's body, now at rest and quiet, was raised through the air. One inch at a time.

Peter dropped down onto the ground. Up until this point, Kermit had been oblivious to anyone other his wife. Finally, he took in the full impact of the younger detective's condition. Black and blue face. Gaping wound across his forehead. Peter had stopped pretending that he could walk on his own. "Kid," Kermit offered, "you look like shit."

"Gee, thanks." Peter let a smile creep across his grimy face. "Suppose that makes us twins."

Paul laughed out loud. For the first time in twenty-four hours. "Now that's a frightening thought. I couldn't never have dealt with the two of you at the same time. I'd be in the nut house!"

"There's still time," Kermit replied. Returning to the serious sentiments he felt he had to express, he reached out his hand to his friend. "Peter....I want to....what you did...."

Grasping the outstretched hand, Peter responded, "You're more than welcome. Sorry I didn't take good care of your ladies, Buddy."

Kermit cut off the needless apology. "I believe your ride's here." The firemen lowered the basket stretcher back down to collect their next patient. As the ex-mercenary helped load Peter onto the awaiting lift, he teased, "After all, now we have a brand new ER to break in."

"And with the best looking nurses in the state," tossed Paul, absently ruffling his foster son's hair. "Or so I've heard."

"Hey...might even stay there this time...." Peter's voice trailed behind him as he was raised up the side of the cliff.

Paul Blaisdell had literally ordered Kermit into the emergency room for treatment. His bullet had to be removed and the wound dressed. True to form, Griffin the Patient was less than cooperative. Flooding his typical disregard for medical authority over his anatomy through the hospital halls. After Peter had been examined, he'd followed his partner into the emergency room to be a buffer between Kermit's bad temper and the staff.

He'd agreed to the procedures as long as Paul would stay with Savannah, who was still in recovery. The orthopedic surgeon on staff had performed the surgery to realign her fracture. The leg was in danger. Lack of circulation and the severity of the break left her at risk of amputation. They would know in the next twenty-four hours. For now, the prognosis was good. She'd made it this far....

Kermit made his commander offer an oath that NO ONE would tell his wife that she shot her husband. "She has enough to worry about," Kermit explained.

Kelly, Annie, and Caroline had baby Katherine bathed, fed, and happy as a clam. For now, they would all stay at the cabin nearby. Trying to keep the family together. Peter had filled Paul in on a few things about Kermit's wife on the trip to the hospital. They had plenty of time. Savannah had been airlifted the forty-five miles to the medical center but Peter and Paul had ridden in the ambulance. His son related the incident a few months ago when the Hanoi Hilton and all its ghosts had risen from Kermit's past and threatened to claim him again. The woman had stood by his side and ridden out the waves of pain with him. Paul's doubts instantly faded. She was the right one for the job!

"Kermit...." Savannah tried to pull her head up from the pillow. And failed miserably. Groggy and disoriented, he tried to get her bearings. "What..."

"Hi there, beautiful. Don't believe we've met. I'm Paul Blaisdell." He picked up her hand, careful not to disturb her IV.

"Where's Kermit?" She cleared her throat and looked around for her bespeckled husband. "And who has Kat?" Paul brought a cup of water to her lips to ease the desert in Savannah's throat.

"That beautiful child of yours is with Annie and the girls and Kermit had to argue with the staff a bit." Flashing a sympathetic grin at her, he offered, "But you probably could have guessed that already."

Closing her eyes and chuckling, Savannah agreed, "Oh yeah...you must have experience in the 'Griffin School of Congeniality.'"

"Ph.D., my dear." Reaching up to stroke her hair back from her face, he asked, "How do you feel?"

"Like I was pushed off a cliff....What about those men, they..."

"Locked up. The local sheriff has them under control. We'll deal with that later." Paul was grateful that Kermit was too involved with Savannah's injuries and his own to plan a trip to the local jail just yet.

"Sorry to meet like this, Paul. I had a...a...speech all worked out." She was starting to doze again. "I want you to know...I'm trying to make a safe place for him.....love him very much....I won't leave..." She dropped back into sleep.

Paul Blaisdell smiled and pulled the cover closer around her shoulders. "I know, Savannah. And it's a job I highly recommend."

*****

Peter slipped quietly into Savannah's hospital room. She was sleeping peacefully. The apparatus used to immobilize her leg looked uncomfortable at best. Beside her was what appeared to be some sort of pump connected to her IV tube. He'd promised Kermit that he'd wait here until he returned. The way he'd screwed up his last "assignment" he was glad to do anything to help.

Slowly, Savannah began to come out of her drug-induced sleep. Lifting heavy eyelids, she greeted her guest. "So, Kermit left you to baby-sit?"

"Oh, yeah," he answered, leaning over to take her hand. "Giving me a chance to redeem myself. How are you feeling?"

Eyes half open, she laughed, "Stoned. Me and Mr. Morphine pump are having a great time. They say I'll have to give it up in a few days. Jerks."

She was glad that Kermit had gone to be with Kat for a while. She was only a baby and must be confused at having her routine interrupted. *Her mama certainly is,* thought Savannah.

"Mary Margaret was here. She left you this Grisham novel."

Sleepily, she laughed, "One of my people. Yea!"

Finally able to focus, she took in the full view of an enormous bouquet of flowers. It rivaled a funeral spray. "Who in the world sent those!?"

"Wolf Gannett." Getting up to retrieve the card for her, he explained, "We made the news, Lady. Movie of the week material. Guess Wolf is keeping up on current events lately."

Rolling her eyes and giving a phony disgusted look at the card, she read, "Dollface, thought you'd understand that camping wasn't for guys like you and me. Feel better soon. P.S. I get to play P.C. in the movie."

"No way!" shouted Peter, only slightly amused at the prospect of combining his life, Wolf, and another movie.

Dropping the card into a drawer so that Kermit wouldn't see the "dollface" remark, she turned her attention to Peter. "How are you, partner?" From the sight of his crutch and his black and blue face, he'd had a rough time of it. Thinking about everything he'd endured to save her and her baby filled her heart. He just nodded and sat there. Still and quiet.

"Peter, I've got something to ask you. When you told me those things about your mother...you were lying, weren't you?"

Shocked, he replied, "Why would you say that?"

Gently, Savannah answered, "Because that link between us ran both ways. You lied. You really don't remember her, do you?"

Shaking his head, he confessed, "No, I don't. The one memory I have of her is her perfume. My father made it for her from jasmine flowers. I have a photograph but that's all. It's the only piece of her I have."

Savannah felt his heartbreak. "You told me those things so that if I didn't make it, I could die in peace."

"Would it have worked?"

"Yes. And I'm grateful. It was an incredibly kind thing to do." Pausing briefly, she considered her next words. Mothering was hard to resist. Even when the person she wanted to mother was older. "Your mother is proud of you. The man you've turned out to be. Even when you screw up and lose your temper with your father. I know she's up there watching over you."

He looked into her eyes for reassurance. "How do you know?"

"Because it's what I would have done for Kat. I would have gone home to Heaven and spent my days buzzing around that little girl, watchin' her every move."

"Hey, I'm the one who's supposed be making you feel better."

Out of the blue, she asked, "Talked to your father yet?"

*Next time, hopefully I won't spill my guts inside someone else's head,* he thought. Out loud, he answered, "Not yet...but I know what I'm going to say."

"Maybe something like, 'I'm sorry and I'm not ashamed to need you every now and then. I understand that parents need their children and vice versa.'?" She been fighting a yawn as long as possible until she'd finished her idea but now, she gave in.

"Something like that. Now go back to sleep." Savannah was already out, leaving Peter to contemplate his next homecoming.

The End

Next Story: Nightmares And Demons

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