Hello, everyone! Here is the, unfortunately, final chapter to this story. I'm so sorry that it has taken me this long to finish it, but some things came up in my personal life, college got harder, and writers block is the worst. It didn't help that this show got canceled 3 years ago! Can you believe it?! I can't! Needless to say, that isn't super conducive to writing.

I digress, here is the final chapter. I would like to thank everyone for hanging in there with me and being so wonderful and patient. I hope that this chapter wraps things up for you and gives a fitting end to this tale.

Disclaimer: I do not own Battle Creek. If I did, it would have gotten at least one more season.

Enjoy!

Milton Chamberlain looked up from his doze, blinking his eyes groggily as they fought to refocus in the artificial lighting. Even if the blinds across the room were open, they wouldn't help any. His watch told him that it was 12:08 in the morning and the quiet nature of the hospital outside of the door reaffirmed that fact. The only people that really came into a hospital at midnight were pregnant women going into labor and drunk drivers who had crashed. Everyone else would discover their private tragedies in the morning.

In the back of his mind, Milt realized that it had been exactly one week since the attempts on his partner's life had started. One week ago that morning, Zek and his associates had planted a bomb that was just the beginning of a week that he would never forget.

"You're sure he's not getting out?"

Milt looked at his partner from where he was standing by his bed. He was somewhat concerned that Russ wasn't strong enough to hear the news, but he also figured in may help in his recovery. "No, he could get out in 80 years or so, but I doubt that he'll be walking out in that time."

Russ nodded, eye going glassy as he zoned out on the corner.

"Russ? Are you alright?" Milt asked, rushing to his side. "Do I need to get the doctor?"

A hand shot out and wrapped around Milt's bicep, the grip surprisingly strong. "We did it, Milt. We did it."

Looking back on the moment when Milt had shared the good news with Russ, he knew he had made the right call to share the news with him. There were some set-backs in Russ's recovery, but, for the most part, he was coming along well. He'd been in the hospital for three going on four days and the doctors were saying that if he continued to improve, he would probably be home before the end of the next week.

Taking a deep breath, Milt looked at the man in the bed next to him. Despite his improvements, Russell Agnew looked awful. Dark purple bruising obscured most of the left side of his face and the skin beneath was pale. Dark bags hung under his eyes despite the many hours that he'd been sleeping for the past few days and a nasal cannula provided oxygen to his weakened system. Milt nearly jumped when he realized that Russ was watching him through a heavily lidded brown eye.

"Russ, buddy, what are you doing awake?" He asked, leaning forwards and laying a comforting hand on Russ's shoulder.

The eye darted to the door before moving back to Milt. "Couldn't sleep." His voice was quiet and strained sounding, causing Milt to reach next to the bed for the glass of water.

Without a word, he lifted it and helped Russ to take a few sips before replacing it on the table. "Nightmares?" Russ didn't reply, so Milt kept talking. "I've been having some of my own. They're normally the same." He leaned his elbows on the bed, eyes trained on his clasped hands. "I get to the Laundromat, but you're not there. You're gone, just like Zek said. In some of them, it almost seems like you never existed and I'm the only one who remembers you. I normally wake up after someone calls me mad."

Russ watched him the entire time, eyes locked on the heaviness in Milt's. Reaching out, he grasped the other man's wrist as he said, "Yeah. Nightmares." This time, Milt didn't speak, so Russ did. "The team gets to me, but you're not there. It's only later that I find out they killed you in the alley." Smiling weakly, he added, "But you had to go ahead and beat me with the added 'I never existed'. Typical."

"Contrary to your belief, my goal is not to come here and try to do things better than you."

"I know."

Slightly surprised by the honest tone in Russ's voice, Milt looked up and met his partner's eyes.

"I don't think I thanked you fo-."

"No, Russ-." Milt interrupted, shaking his head.

"Milt-."

"No, I won-."

"Milt!"

Milt looked back at his partner, surprised again by the determination and strength Russ had mustered into his name. In the moment of silence he had, he managed, "It's not something you have to thank me for."

Russ raised the eyebrow over his one functioning eye. "So, the one time I'm offering a 'thank you', you're not going to accept it?"

"Nope," Milt stated. Then, slightly softer, he supplied, "It's something I would do again."

Russ nodded. "Thank you."

Milt sighed and hung his head in defeat. Blindly searching, he moved his hand over the side of the bed before finding Russ's fingers and grabbing them. His thumb gently brushed against the scraped knuckles on the back of his hand and he could feel the edge of the gauze that was covering the abrasions caused by the leather straps, but the hand was warm and the fingers responded to the touch, gripping his in return.

"Do you remember when Brock came after me?" Milt asked, continuing to look at the floor as some painful memories came to the forefront.

Russ nodded, eyes looked on Milt's hand wrapped around his. "Yeah?"

"When I was sure that Brock was going to kill me after he threw you out of the trunk, I told you to run, but you didn't." Finally, looking back up at his partner, Milt added, "You said I was your partner. Then, you fought to convince Brock to not kill me."

A little of the old anxiety beginning to return about their relationship, Russ started to feel uncomfortable and started to pull his hand back. "So, what, this is you returning the favor?"

Other hand shooting up to firmly trap Russ's before he could pull away, Milt captured Russ's gaze with his own and moved from his chair to the side of the bed. "Russ, no. I'm saying that this is my choice to make, now. It's not just my job. We're partners. I like to think that on good days we're friends." Smiling when Russ's hand relaxed in his grip, he continued, "It's not something you have to thank me for, because it's my decision to make, because you're my friend. I wouldn't want to do this without you."

Russ smiled as something filled in his chest; a secret anxiety that he'd been feeling for the past few days dissipated with Milt's words. Returning the grip Milt held on his fingers, he answered, "We're going to be okay."

Milt nodded. "I know." Before he could stop, he found himself leaning forward from the side of the bed and laying his forehead against Russ's shoulder. A hand came up and cupped the back of his neck as he took a few deep breaths, relishing in the contact and the presence that was so uniquely Russell. As he sat back up and smiled at his partner, he knew that they would be okay. No matter what came their way, they'd be there to tackle it together.

I hope everyone enjoyed it. This was a fun, if trying at times, story to write. Once again, I'm sorry for the hiatuses in between updates and thank you again for your patience.

Thank you for reading and have a great rest of your week.