If there were a time that silence could be deafening, this was it.

Pete rose cautiously from his position of kneeling on one knee, having been able to discharge two rounds simultaneously into the suspects. He had felt the rounds Cleve have fired; three as he could recall, two sailed with careless abandon past his head. One had shattered the taillight of the cab, scattering the crimson shards just inches from his feet. He approached with his gun aimed and ready, even though both suspects were on the ground, not moving. Pete used his foot to kick the handgun away that Cleve had held in his hand fearlessly at one time. Now it lay on the ground, abandoned. He reached down and picked up the other revolver belonging to his partner, and tucked it carefully in his pocket. He stood there for a moment, observing, drawing in a deep breath, reassuring himself that neither man was a threat. It was obvious that neither of them was going anywhere anytime soon.

It was over.

He made his way to his downed partner, making that his primary concern now. Jim stirred on the ground, looking up into the face of his best friend, not really trusting the mirage before him. Pete re-assured him.

"Easy, partner. " Pete was concerned for his friend, and was trying to keep his friend still and quiet.

"Stay with me, Jim." Jim stirred again, fighting hard to find his friend's voice through the grayness and the buzzing in his head that threatened to drown out what was around him.

"Easy, Jim. It's over. Lay still." Pete placed a hand of friendship on Jim's shoulder, letting it linger there.

"P-Pete… is it r-really y-you?" Jim squinted into the face of his partner, not really sure if he was truly seeing him. He tried to sit up, only to be greeted with pain, and his best friend's hands on his shoulders holding him in place. He was very willing to comply, and let his head drop back onto the dry, dusty ground.

"It's me, buddy. Take it easy, now. You okay?" Pete was concerned for his friend, and was trying to keep him from moving. He used his hand to shield Jim and block the sun from his eyes.

"John…h-he's…" Jim became restless once more.

"Roy's with him, help's on the way. Jim squeezed his eyes shut, and willed his stomach back into place. Once his eyes closed, the darkness began to lure him into the state of unconsciousness that he had been fighting. Jim no longer had the strength. Pete saw his friend's body go slack, trying to give in to the comforting darkness.

"Stay with me, Jim. Don't you dare give up now! JIM!" Pete eased himself into a protective hover over his best friend.

E*E*E*E*E

Roy dutifully walked over to the unmoving form closest to the get- away car. He reached gingerly downward toward the neck of the obviously deceased man. He made his way to the next prone man, finding the same results. He made eye contact with Pete Malloy, and shook his head, letting him know that the ordeal was truly over for their friends. He went quickly to the trunk of the cab and retrieved the first aid kit, and opened it as he made his way to the downed officer.

Retrieving the proper items, he quickly knelt by Jim Reed, and applied the pressure bandage to his head, putting Pete's hand in place of his own, and giving him some instructions to keep Jim awake and talking. Roy then hurried to help his best friend, who seemed to be quickly fading in the back of the cab.

E*E*E*E*E

Roy couldn't get to the cab fast enough. As he climbed into the back seat, his knee slid on the vinyl in the fresh blood that had pooled there. Gasping at the sight of his best friend, John's pallor looked more ashen than it did from glimpses Roy had managed to steal from the rear view mirror while driving the cab.

His hand instinctively reached for his partner's neck, holding his own breath as he waited for the sign of life.

It was there. Faint, but there. Roy placed his hand on John's chest, waiting for the shallow breathing. Roy released a sigh of relief as he continued to evaluate his partner. He loosened the make-shift tourniquet and began to palpate the serious wound, when a low, painful groan escaped from the dark haired man.

"Hey, Junior. Are you with me? Can you talk to me?"

John started to move sluggishly beneath Roy's ministrations with his limited first aid supplies. The fog that held John captive refused to release his mind.

"Mnnnmm…R-rr-ooy?…n-noooo…g-gotta get –a-away…you hafta…hide…g-get d-down…n-noo…g-get out…Jo..k-kids…y-you gotta g-get outta h-here…" Johnny began to use what little strength he had to push at Roy. His mind told him that his captors were still there. He had to protect Roy.

"Johnny…Easy. It's okay. JOHN! It's over, it's all over. You have to settle down, partner. I'm fine. Jim's okay. Help's on the way. Com'on, now." Roy held his hands on John's shoulders, trying to restrain him so he wouldn't injure himself further. A glimmer of awareness flickered as John wrinkled his forehead, and began to relax his struggle.

"J-Jim…Where…?" John asked as Roy continued to settle his partner down.

"Pete's with him. John, you need to calm down. " Roy applied some pressure to John's wound, causing John to suck in a painful breath and closed his eyes.

"Sorry…you've lost a lot of blood, Junior. Gotta get the bleeding stopped. Junior? Come on…stay with me now. JOHN! HEY! You've come too far to quit now! JOHNNY!" Roy kept beckoning to his partner.

A panicked Roy reached for Johnny's pulse. He continued to plead with him to respond.

"Do ya h-hafta yell, p-pally?" The whispery response took Roy by surprise. If he didn't know better Roy could have sworn he saw a hint of the famous crooked grin for a moment on Johnny's face.

Roy looked at Johnny with relief. A smile crossed his lips as he rolled eyes. A small tear slid from the corner of Roy's eye. He glanced upward, and released the heavy sigh he had been holding most of the afternoon.

It was going to be okay.

He had his partner back.

E*E*E*E*E

The welcome sound of sirens was beginning to increase in volume and number. Pete continued to encourage his partner to talk to him; to stay awake. He squeezed his hand, his arm; anything to coax him away from the oblivion that threatened to steal his best friend's consciousness.

"They're coming, Jim. Hang on, buddy. Stay with me…" A nervous Officer Malloy kept checking over his shoulder for the help he promised his best friend. He glanced over to the cab, and knew that Roy was probably doing the same for his own partner.

After what seemed like an eternity, the caravan of squad cars, ambulances and an engine with a squad kicked up a flurry of dust and activity as they screeched to a halt and hustled to the side of their comrades. It took some convincing to get Roy and Pete away from their partners, but they finally agreed.

Pete slowly backed away, his adrenalin starting to crash, leaving his body shaking, draining him of energy. Slowly, he slid to the ground, the vacant get-away car as his guide. He let his eyes close so that he could gather himself for the next part of their journey. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"How you holding up, Pete?" Mac's authoritative voice broke Pete's solitude.

"I'm all right, Mac. Just glad it's over. Hoping Jim's okay…John too. They're in rough shape." Pete started to get up, but Mac's hand held him in place.

"Go ahead and take a minute. You've earned it. You and DeSoto should ride with them to the hospital, we'll clean things up here." Pete looked up into the face of his superior, thankful for the few minutes of reprieve. He let his head lean back and he closed his eyes.

It didn't take long before Pete sensed that he wasn't alone. He heard someone slide down to the ground alongside him with a defeated sigh. Pete looked over and smiled at his tired 'accomplice.'

"Hey, Roy. How ya doing?" Roy nodded his head toward the direction of where his best friend was laying, being worked on by his friends, then leaned it back on the car as he pondered the question.

"I guess I was getting in the way. How about you?" Pete nodded too, as he watched another paramedic treat his partner. A few silent moments passed between them as they took in the scene before them. Pete decided to approach the topic first.

"John going to be all right?" Roy sighed deeply. It had been close. Really close. Another five minutes would have been the point of no return. He felt the lump in his throat return and swallowed hard to force it back down. He tried hard to gather himself before he spoke.

"Ah, ya. He, ah, he's going to pull through. We got to him, ah, them, in time. Jim too."

Now it was Pete's turn to fight with his emotions.

"Give it to me straight, Roy. How are they...Really?" Pete studied Roy's face. His years in police work would tell him if Roy was skirting around the truth.

Roy cleared his throat. He didn't want to lie, but he wanted to make sure that Pete was ready for the truth. It wasn't pretty.

"Well, ah, Pete…Jim…he was ah, worked over pretty good, but I think you know that. He took a blow to the back of the head, and he has injuries that are consistent to being ah, well… hit on the side of the head a few times." Roy looked at Pete before continuing.

"They pistol whipped him…" Pete finished Roy's unspoken words for him. He swallowed convulsively, trying not to throw up at the thought of what his best friend went through. Roy finished his assessment.

" Looks like he took a few blows to the ribcage as well. They've got the bleeding of his head wound stopped, and they are going to run tests at the hospital to make sure there isn't any internal bleeding. They will do X-Rays to make sure there isn't any other injuries or damage." Pete got control after hearing everything, and asked his next question.

"And Johnny? How's he?" That question smacked Roy between the eyes, and in the gut. He had a little more difficulty keeping his voice controlled answering this question.

"The bullet went right through his side, but…it looks like it nicked some blood vessels and who knows what else. I heard Mac say a witness told him they roughed him up a bit too. They'll check everything out at the hospital." Roy got quiet and stared at the ground. Pete noticed how sullen he became.

"But, they'll be all right…?" Pete became worried. Roy nodded.

"Oh, It's not that. I was just thinking. Five more minutes. If it had taken five more minutes to get here, or... if we had left five minutes later…or if they had waited another five minutes to leave the bank…" The gravity of Roy's statement weighed on the men. They knew their partners and best friends might not be alive if Roy's statement had played out.

"But they didn't Roy. They're safe. Jim and John are safe. They are going to be all right, in time." Both men pondered the events of the day. They sat in each others company, feeling the kinship they shared, waiting to go with their brothers to the hospital.

"You did a good Job, Roy. Using the cab was a good idea. You kept your cool. Having you drive helped in getting them some medical attention right away." Pete's attempt to sound professional faltered when his voiced cracked. He cleared his throat, but the emotions stayed on the surface.

"Come on, Pete. You know as well as I do that if I hadn't thought of using the cab, you would have thought of another way to save our partners. You were in the trunk giving our location the whole time, after all! They're more than just partners to us. They're a part of us…Jim and Johnny. The bond…It's…They're…"

"They're our brothers…" Pete whispered. Roy nodded. Pete knew. Roy didn't have to explain it to him. He and Jim had what Roy and Johnny had. Not just in the field, or while they were 'on the job.' It was constant. Unspoken. Unwavering. They both nodded silently in understanding. They knew that the other would lay down their life for the other, without question, without having to ask – both on the job, and off. That's what a brother does.

Pete knew their moods were in desperate need of changing.

"So, you worried about what your captain's going to say about you driving the cab?" Roy broke out in a smile.

"Not half as worried as I am at what my wife's going to say!" Pete found his own smile.

"Another great reason to stay a bachelor!" Both men began to laugh.

Two ambulance gurneys filed past the men, and Pete rose to his feet first. Extending his hand, he pulled the tired paramedic to his feet. Exchanging a smile, they each climbed into the ambulances that held their partners, best friends and brothers.

The doors slammed on the ambulances, and two pats were given, and they were on their way.

This day had forever changed them, but strengthened them as brothers - forever.