Dixie McCall pulled the white starched cap from her head as she stepped out of the elevator.

Her shift ended forty-five minutes earlier, and left her longing for her familiar living room with its comfy couch and the opportunity to kick her shoes off, and pour herself a glass of wine - It had been a long day. Relaxing at home would have to wait a little longer. She had an important stop to make first.

Moving quietly down the corridor and past the Fourth Floor Nurses Station, she was grateful to find the cubicle empty. It wasn't that Dixie couldn't explain her presence; it was just easier not to. Playing favorites wasn't something the head nurse approved of, but she couldn't help where her heart took her.

The door to Room 412 was closed, no sounds emanating from the interior. Dixie sighed in relief, taking the quiet as a good sign. Hopefully the patient was asleep, and his visitor gone home for the night. Pushing the door open slowly, she took one step before stopping to stare. Many options rushed through her mind, but only two real choices presented themselves. Turn around to quietly slip away, or step forward and send the officer on his way. As she fought with herself in a quick mental battle over which option was best, Dixie took in the slumped shoulders with the head tipped forward. From what she could see, it was clear that the man had been there quite a while. Elbows on the arms of his chair, his blood-stained hands held his head as if it were the heaviest weight ever lifted.

The officer was the epitome of misery and exhaustion.

Three steps from the door to his vinyl orange chair, Dixie's touch was gentle when she put a hand on his arm.

"What are you still doing here?" Weary, red rimmed eyes looked up at her, the expression noncommittal.

"Couldn't leave."

"Dr. Brackett told you that it will take a few weeks, but he'll be fine."

"I know."

The officer rubbed his tired face with his hands. "You were supposed to go home."

"Couldn't leave," the tired voice repeated.

Dixie stared at the sleeping form on the bed, eyes taking in the tubes and wires that snaked from body to machine.

"Numbers look good."

"I suppose. He seems to be resting easier." A sad sigh escaped the officer's body.

"Rough one, huh?"

"The roughest."

"He's going to be okay." Dixie reassured him.

"Yeah. I keep telling myself that."

"You got him here in time." Dixie squeezed the man's shoulder, shaking her head at the ragged countenance.

"You're not going to do him any good wearing yourself out. You need to go home and get some rest yourself."

The fact that there was no answer only increased the nurse's concern. But instead of resorting to her firm voice and tough demands, she sensed that the man wasn't trying to be difficult, and could use a friend. Quietly pulling up the other vinyl chair, she sat next to the officer, and leaning over, looked into his face. She stayed there until he turned his gaze from his sleeping partner to the worried nurse.

"I almost lost him." Tears filled his crystal blue eyes, and threatened to spill onto the blood-stained uniform the officer was still wearing.

"I know. Sergeant MacDonald told us what happened. But you managed to keep him alive and get him here so we could work on him."

"No. I mean...I almost lost him." Realization slowly dawned, and Dixie found her eyes slipping away from his steady gaze. "Don't know if I can do this." The tears finally gave way, and fell with reckless abandon. He didn't try to stop them. Dixie waited for several minutes with her arms around the officer's shoulders, as his silent emotions began to diminish. He began to settle into the deep breathing of someone struggling to regain control.

"You being his partner makes all the difference. Being there, watching out for each other, you are partners for a reason. You need each other. And you're good for each other."

"We..We've been lucky. But what if..." He couldn't finish it. He felt sick at the thought of it.

"What? What if it goes wrong?"

"Yeah. If I lose him...it's not just losing a partner. I'd be losing...my brother."

"I know you feel that way but..."

"You don't understand, Dix. It's not just that he's like a brother. He is...my family." The officer could barely choke out the words. Dixie kept her arms around tense shoulders. But almost immediately, the tension seemed to melt away and the tight muscles were suddenly quivering. The nurse wanted to wipe her eyes, but held on instead. It was several minutes before she could manage a gentle rebuke.

"He's not your only family, Pete Malloy. And you're not going to lose him. Jim's going to be okay."

"This time..."

"That's all any of us have. Today. We can't control the future any more than we can change the past. But you being there, being Jim's partner...it could make the difference. Don't give up, or give in. He needs you as much as you need him." Pete's head dropped low, hands coming up to clasp the back of his neck. He tried to rub the pain and tiredness away. It wasn't going to go away.

"You know I'm right. And things will look better in the morning." The slight nod of his head was enough of an answer for tonight. After all, it was late. Dixie patted Pete's arm once more before pushing herself from the hard chair and scooting it back into place. Then standing behind her friend, she waited for him. A faint sound caught her attention, followed by a familiar voice.

"What's going on in here?" The two turned in unison to face the door, eyes widening as the dark -haired doctor joined them.

"I thought you two would be home, asleep by now. I got Jean to go home a coupla' hours ago."

"What about you, Kel? I know for a fact that your shift ended an hour ago." A smug look crossed Dixie's face.

"Yes, well..." A guilty look crossed the doctor's face. Kel eyed them suspiciously as he stepped around the hospital bed to check on his patient.

"Everything okay here?"

"Sure, Doc." Pete mumbled.

"Yes, Kel." After assuring himself that they were right, Dr. Brackett whispered across the bed.

"Numbers look better. He'll be here for a few days, but Jim's going to be all right." Kel tucked his stethoscope back into his coat pocket.

"That's what I was just telling Pete." Dixie flashed a smile at the worn-out officer.

"Well, then. Did you also tell him that visiting hours were over?" Dr. Brackett raised his eyebrow.

"We were just talking, Doctor."

"Okay, but how talking tomorrow? You need some rest."

"I can rest here. In this chair. I want to be here when he wakes up." Pete crossed his arms in front of him in defiance. Before Kel could protest, a slight stirring caught their attention just as a blanketed knee moved slightly on the bed. The whispered voice that reached their ears was like music to the gathered friends.

"T-time to g-go . . ."

"No, Jim." Dix answered in a hushed tone, gently touching Jim's arm.

"You're at Rampart and need to stay awhile longer."

"N-not me. You. G-go home." A smile began to spread across Pete's face; changing quickly to the famous Malloy smirk. "You're sure you don't want some company?"

"P-plenty...t-t-'morrow. J-jean… You..."

"Okay, partner. If you're sure. Guess I could go home for a while. But I'll be back first thing in the morning."

"A-afternoon. You… s-sleep. G-grumpy."

Dixie's soft laughter followed Jim's last word as his eyes closed and his breathing leveled out, deepening.

"He's really going to be all right, isn't he, Doctor?"

"Yes, Pete. He's going to be fine. Just like I told you three hours ago. Now go home. Both of you."

"You know how cranky doctors can be, right? I think we'd better go. Besides, you need some sleep. Your' family' is going to be depending on you." Dixie smiled and winked at Pete. Pete didn't answer, but his quick glance back towards a sleeping Jim Reed seemed to say it all.

Two steps from the bed, Dixie could've sworn she heard a quiet "night, brother." The problem was, she wasn't sure which one of her friends uttered the words.

Then again, it didn't really matter.