Chapter 3

Dr. Altman hung up the phone at the nurse's station and gave a low whistle.

"Everything alright, Dan," head nurse Maureen Katz asked.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "That was KC. She met with the officers that were with Baker last week and found out what really happened that day."

"So, she broke them, eh?"

Danny laughed, though it carried a sad note to it. "Yeah, she broke'um. And things make much more sense now, especially since Dr. Wexler brought Officer Baker's file over from the VA."

He walked back into Jon's room, glanced at his patient and then his watch. "One o'clock. You probably have another hour or so of peace, my friend." He sat down in the standard hospital room chair, pulled the bed table in front of him again and picked up the next piece of paper in the file. He glanced through it and shook his head with a sigh. "Oh Baker, you simply did what you had to do. Why can't you accept that?"

After fifteen minutes the doctor closed the file and rubbed his eyes. "I just can't read medical files for more than an hour, even with a phone call as a break. And Prof. Matson always said, 'Too much studying can inhibit one's ability to help their patient.'" He picked up The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King and slouched into the chair. "Alright Aragorn, where were we? Ah yes, The Houses of Healing."

An hour later Jon groaned and Danny looked at the clock. "Good, the patient is waking up right on schedule."

The fog of sleep was lifting but the ghosts tried to hold on. Viet Cong... no, don't... Shane, Bob... I'm so sorry. Mitch, hang on… don't you touch him or I'll kill you with my bare hands!

Jon gasped and looked around as he became fully awake.

"It's okay Jon, I'm here," Dan said. "Do you know where you are?"

"I'm in the hospital," he replied groggily. "I hate hospitals."

Dr. Altman chuckled, "I know, that's why I'm here."

"When can I leave?"

"You're here for forty-eight hour observation, Officer Baker."

"Shit." Panic, fear and anger flashed across Jon's face and he tried to get out of bed. He instantly regretted the move as the room rocked and swayed.

"Easy there, cowboy," Dr. Altman said as he put his hand on Jon's chest and guided him to lay down again.

"What the hell'd ya do to me, doc? I feel like I've got molasses for blood."

"We gave you a mild sedative so your body could get the rest it desperately needed. As agitated as you were last night, we couldn't risk another outburst and have you pulling out your IV or hurting yourself."

Memories of the previous night played in his head like corn kernels popping in hot oil, coming faster and faster until they all played in one continuous scene. The tightness in his throat and chest began again but he refused to let the tears come. He had always found it difficult to cry, even though it was exactly what he knew he needed to do. But crying meant letting go of the tight control he'd built to protect himself from the past, and even after the previous night, Jon still stubbornly fought to keep whatever control he had left.

"By the way," Dan continued, "Ponch, McLeish and Nelson met with KC and Sgt. Getraer this morning; KC told them what happened with you last night and they finally shared what really happened in the warehouse last week."

"Oh God..."

"No one is going to lose their job, Jon. All we have ever wanted is to help all of you cope with whatever happened that day, not judge you for what you perceive as weakness."

It took a moment before Jon finally spoke. "I tried to kill them."

Dr. Altman placed his hand on his shoulder. "But you didn't, and that counts for something."

The officer turned his head, refusing to cry. He could see Ponch standing next to McLeish, both hurt and frightened, knowing it was his fault. He saw the blood on his partner's uniform. The gash in his arm…

"How can I face…" his voice caught in his throat and he tried to swallow the lump that settled there. After a short pause he spoke again, slowly and purposefully. "I was… vicious."

Jon felt so out of control and he hated feeling vulnerable; he was exhausted from the night before and his eyes hurt from all the tears he'd already shed. He could feel the wave of emotion swelling again and he saw Danny shake his head, eyes full sympathy and understanding.

"Jon."

"I can't do this again…" he pounded his fists into the side of the bed in anger. "I won't fall apart like last night. I won't do it!"

"You've got no choice. Your body has to deal with this, one way or the other. Talking will help but you still have to release the emotions somehow. So it's cry or throw up. There are no other options."

Jon groaned as he turned on his side and curled up into the fetal position. Danny hated feeling so helpless, but he knew that Jon was the only one who could help himself at this point. He sat back in his chair and picked up his book from the nightstand, flipped to the bookmark and started to read about the Last Stand of Man when Aragorn and what little army he had left went to the Black Gate to confront Sauron's forces in a hopeless battle. Tolkien's descriptions of what Aragorn was facing, what he had already lost and what this battle could and would cost Aragorn struck a chord in the doctor and sparked an idea.

"Jon, have you ever read 'The Lord of the Rings?'"

The non-sequitor had the desired effect on his patient as Jon opened his eyes and gave him a look that simply said, 'Are you effen kidding me?' and Danny chuckled.

"I'm serious." He held up the book for him to see. "Have you ever read it?"

Jon nodded, now a bit curious and answered cautiously. "Yeah, my mom made me read it when I was in high school, and I read it again about a year ago."

"Good. Do you remember when Aragorn led the Gondorian and Rohirrim armies to the Black Gate to face Sauron's army?"

Jon nodded. He looked thoroughly confused but more importantly he was focused on something other than his current situation, which was exactly what the doctor wanted.

"There were hordes of goblins, trolls, orcs, wild men and Uruk-hai racing out of Mordor toward Aragorn's army, bent on their utter destruction. It was something like six thousand Men of the West against sixty thousand of Sauron's forces, but Aragorn and his men, and even Pippin the hobbit, stood firm against impossible odds."

"I know the feeling," Jon said.

Danny watched as the officer's blue eyes focused on images in his mind. It was quiet in the room except for the random beeping of the IV machine as Jon saw his past translate itself into Tolkien's fantasy world. The landscape was desolate, the sky brown and gray. There was a tall watchtower among the rocky path, and Jon was barricaded inside. This was the same tower he saw himself in last night as he sat on Counselor Roberts' bathroom floor. He could again feel the fiery arrows strike the stone walls, see their flames from the small window and smell the stench of fear, decay and death.

He pressed his back against the stone wall and made a furtive glance out the window. The ambiguous enemy began to take form from the dark mist that covered the ground; his emotions bonded together with memories from the war to become trolls, orcs and uruk-hai. Monsters that knew his weaknesses, some of them with the faces of men. Some the image of things he did and wanted to forget, and some things he saw that left deep scars.

They had been locked away in the dungeon the young soldier had made deep in his soul, behind thick walls of steel resolve and concrete stubbornness. But time wears away even the strongest things, and one man can't stay diligent forever. As the walls weakened, memories would escape and usually be dealt with or simply stuffed back into their cell. But on that fateful day when the CHP officers were searching the warehouse and the small bomb exploded, every memory shoved forward and shattered their prison, running rampant and uncontrolled across the landscape of Jon's soul. And his partner and two close friends were struck by the flying shrapnel.

The attack on his tower intensified and Jon felt powerless. His memories attacked him relentlessly and he could feel the weight of guilt and shame in the form of the One Ring as it hung on a chain from his neck. Panic set in as arrows began to come through the windows, and the chain began to tighten around his neck, choking its victim in guilt and regret. Before he could black out, Jon felt strong hands pulling on the chain, breaking its hold and allowing him to breathe once more. As his vision cleared he saw Dr. Altman's face above him, and the Ranger looked concerned.

"Jon, it's okay now. You're going to be fine. Reinforcements are here," the Ranger said.

He looked around as saw Counselor Roberts at the window, firing grenades from her elven bow along with pure white arrows, striking the enemy with every shot.

"You see? And elves rarely miss," the ranger said. "Now, let me help you with your burden as I swore to do when we started this adventure. Give me the ring."

"No, I can't, I wont!" Jon clutched at the ring, "I can't let go. I have to always remember who I was and what I could become. Don't take my memories away."

He started to struggle with the ranger until a female voice whispered in his ear, "Jon, we don't want to take them away. Listen to me, Baker."

A cool hand crossed his brow and he sank back down on the cold stone floor. Elves have such magical, healing powers, he thought as she sang to him, combing his hair with her fingers. The melody was familiar to him and he didn't know the words, but that didn't matter. He could hear the ranger talking to the elf, and she seemed to sing her answers to him.

And then he became aware of a dark presence and tried to warn the others, but it was too late. Quan Diep, the monstrous uruk-hai, came through the tower door and stood before the trio.

The ring became heavier and started to whisper its most horrific memory to its wearer. The young Marine paled and began to quake.

"No, not you, not again!"

A machete blade gleamed in the pale light and the monster spoke. "Bây giờ tôi sẽ giết bạn là tôi đã giết binh sĩ của bạn," (Now I will kill you as I killed your soldiers!) the uruk-hai said and reached for Jon.

"Thang khoon, tao sha gnit mhy pbang jing djoy tai!" (You bastard, I'll kill you with my bare hands!) Jon shouted back.

The elf and ranger took defensive positions to protect Jon. The uruk began to scream as gashes and cuts began to appear on his arms and face from no visible source, and he charged toward the marine and his defenders. But suddenly the uruk hai stopped as a gaping stab wound appeared under his ribs, and he dropped to his knees. Then the slash appeared across his neck…

"Officer Baker, this is Dr. Altman. You're having a flashback, wake up."

"Jon, snap out of it!"

It was the fear in KC's voice that finally broke through and reached Officer Jon Baker of the California Highway Patrol. He made eye contact with the counselor and actually saw her for the first time.

"KC…? What are you, when did you…?"

He blinked several times as the vision faded and it took almost a minute before he was back to himself again. Both she and Danny sighed in relief and she took Jon's hand. "I got here about five minutes ago. You had a flashback, Jon."

"No I didn't," he looked at Dr. Altman, "we were talking about The Lord of the Rings and how Sauron's forces outnumbered Aragorn's and I..." he blinked in confusion, "I saw myself in the tower at the edge of Mordor, where the orcs took Frodo."

"Cirith Ungol," Dan said. "You were describing it in vivid detail."

"I was?"

KC nodded, "You described the tower, the fiery arrows, the trolls and orcs… you were talking to us as if we were a ranger and an elf, and apparently I'm very good with a bow."

The light-hearted quip fell flat and Dan picked up the thread. "Something or someone must have entered the tower because you became aggressive, and I think you called it 'Quandee-ep. Then you started speaking what sounded like Vietnamese."

Jon's face drained of color and he lay back against the pillows. The counselor poured a cup of water for him which he downed in two gulps. His hand was shaking as he handed it back to her and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Other than a few simple words I only remember one phrase in Vietnamese, and I wish I could forget it."

They waited for him to continue but it soon became clear he wasn't ready to share yet, however Dr. Altman was prepared.

"So, based on what you described to us a few minutes ago, you see yourself as Frodo?"

"What?"

"You described the tower you were in and it was very much like where Frodo was, and you spoke about The Ring you had to carry and that you wouldn't give it up. So you must relate with Frodo and his burden. Do you?"

He wasn't sure he trusted the question and tried to figure out where Dr. Altman was going with it. He lay back in the bed, his mind processing things so fast that he could barely keep up. It was almost two minutes before Jon started to answer the doctor's question. His eyes had a faraway look and Dan picked up his notepad and pen.

"I guess I do. He took on the burden of The One Ring- the darkest and most powerful evil in Middle Earth- and went to Mount Doom to destroy it, believing he wouldn't return. And when the need arose, he found the strength within him to do what everyone else thought was impossible for anyone, let alone a small, peaceful creature like a hobbit. He was innocent and believed the best of everyone, and that innocence was torn away by the horrors he saw and experienced. But he still kept his simple faith that he was doing the right thing no matter the cost to him. But..."

Danny glanced up from his notes. "But?"

"But Aragorn was the soldier, a Ranger, protecting peoples and lands that were in his blood yet was rejected by them because they didn't understand who or what he was. He would do anything to protect the people he loved, the country he loved, even if it meant he had to sacrifice himself. He had a purpose in life, and I think he knew that he could die, but somehow knew he wouldn't until that purpose was accomplished. He had the blessing of the gods on him."

"The Valar," Danny muttered as he scribbled in his messy shorthand. He was absolutely ecstatic with the way this was going and glanced across the bed to KC, an impish twinkle in his eyes that said, I guess you're not the only 'Counselor Troi' on staff anymore! and she just shook her head, wrinkling her nose at him.

"So," Dr. Altman started, "like Aragorn, you willingly went forth in life to protect your country and saw all the atrocities that the 'orcs' and 'Uruk-hai' committed against your countrymen and the people you were trying to protect, and you went to battle against them again and again in what seemed like a hopeless circle. Even after the war, you remained a soldier by becoming a CHP officer. And on that day in October so long ago you took your squad up to the Black Gates, brazenly outnumbered by an enemy bent on your utter destruction, because others needed the enemy to be distracted. Right?"

As Jon's pulse accelerated, the vein on his neck became more visible and he lost a little more color in his face. He looked at Dr. Altman and swallowed hard, wiping perspiration from his upper lip. Ohmygod, he knows…

"And like Frodo, you faced that same horrible enemy who was both without and within. Frodo was stabbed by the Ringwraiths, and even if you were never shot or stabbed in the war, you were emotionally injured. Frodo carried the Ring around his neck which weighed him down just as your memories do. And the Ring whispered lies and deceitful things to try and break his will, but as Gandalf pointed out, hobbits are amazing creatures. You never know where their true strength lies until they are tested."

Jon's eyes were moist, and he was still fairly calm. But Danny wasn't quite finished yet.

"Neither man nor hobbit considered himself a hero because they simply did what was right and what needed to be done, no matter the cost. Just as you have. But the hobbit never truly forgot the horror he saw, and I'm sure Aragorn had nightmares about the men he'd killed."

Jon stiffened and felt the rush of emotion from the center of his chest and he clenched his eyes shut, forcing the feelings back into their hastily rebuilt prison. Distance from emotion had kept him sane, and as a nineteen year old Marine, he had needed that. But trying to allow himself to deal with them fifteen years later was proving almost impossible.

The counselor leaned forward on the side rail of the bed and looked her patient right in the eyes; eyes filled with pain and grief, anger and self-doubt.

"Jon, let me ask you something," KC said. "What would you do if this was the same situation, except it was Ponch who attacked you?"

"I would try to help him any way I could," Jon answered without hesitating. "I would stand by him and protect him and help him through it."

"Why? He tried to kill you."

"Because he didn't do it on purpose, it just happened." He paused, realizing what he'd just said. He stared at his feet and spoke softly, "Did they tell you I made them promise keep quiet about it?" The question carried a guilty resignation to it, and KC gave his hand a squeeze.

"Yes, they did. Ponch was in such a tough position- trust that you really would be okay or tell Getraer what happened. He made a promise to you that was contrary to what he thought was best, but deferred to your judgment.."

"I know I put him in an impossible situation, but I had to protect them from …" He stopped short and held his breath a moment to control the fresh onslaught of emotions.

Dr. Altman leaned forward. "You can't have one standard of friendship for yourself and yet hold others to a different standard, Jon. Wanting to protect someone is one thing, but to deny them the ability to protect and care for you is not healthy. Your life, your physical and emotional well-being, they are just as important as anyone else's. You show yourself to be 'the dour Ranger' and the protector of the weak, one who doesn't need protection himself, but there you're wrong. We all need someone to support us in our weak times; don't deny your friends the privilege you yourself claim. Let them protect you just as you would protect them."

Jon was losing the battle and he knew it. He crossed his arms over his chest and pressed himself into the bed to fight for control in one last desperate attempt. A very small part of his mind that he visualized as the very far back corner of his head was where his rational side watched everything play out. It gave a gentle urging to give in, but the young Marine who was currently 'in control' (if that term even applied) refused to comply. His older and younger selves knew who would win, but the loser would not give up without one last fight.

It was hard to watch a patient struggle with themself to find release. KC always found this to be one of the top three hardest moments in counseling: when the breakthrough was immanent, the patient was about to find some sort of healing in one painful moment and they suddenly pull back and stuff as much as they can back into the dark depths to protect themselves from pain. She wanted to shake them, to tell them that prolonging it only made it worse, that just taking those last few steps would hurt but be over so fast and they could clean the wound and start to heal. But facing that pain was so overwhelming for them that running away felt easier. And Jon was so close! Maybe if I just...

Danny saw that look on KC's face and shook his head at her. She pursed her lips, leaned forward and made her eyes wide, but he shook his head again. He understood that the downside to her 'Troi-like empathy' was her empathy. She was professional enough to not step in, but this was someone they both considered a friend, and while the line was crossed the night before, Dr. Wexler made it clear that it had been firmly re-established and was not to be crossed a second time. Well meaning though it was, a single prompt could potentially move the patient forward, but conversely it could shut them down completely.

The memories overwhelmed him and Jon didn't have the strength to fight any longer. He took a shuddering breath and looked at his counselor as the tears began to fall. "I can't do this."

She glanced over at Dr. Altman who gave a small nod and then she took Jon's hand in hers and once again gave it a strong squeeze for several seconds, but she remained silent. Dan moved his chair forward and place his hand on Jon's shoulder. "We're here."

It was the first time he'd felt truly safe in years. He saw the tower once more, and the elf and ranger by his side. He took a deep breath."I had to protect Mitch because he couldn't defend himself. It wasn't even a real village, but how were we supposed to know that? The whole thing exploded in our faces and of the twelve in my unit only four of us survived, but not for long. Diep's men got to Shane and Bob before I could regroup, and then I saw Mitch trapped under the remains of a hut, calling for help."

Danny handed him some tissue and Jon wiped his face. "I was their sergeant, damnit, and I let them down! I was just a snot-nosed kid myself with a new promotion and I got them all killed. And when I saw Quan Diep standing over Mitch, taunting him, knife raised … rage just consumed me and I attacked him."

The emotion poured forth as he finally spoke aloud his most agonizing mortal sin. "Thang khoon, tao sha gnit mhy pbang jing djoy tai! 'You bastard, I'll kill you with my bare hands.' That's what I said, and that's… that's what," Jon gripped KC's hand tighter and spoke through fresh tears, "that's what I did. I Broke his arm and then I took his knife and shoved it in his gut and then slashed his throat… I brutally murdered a man with my own hands." He emphasized each word of the last sentence that ended in a broken sob.

Jon cried for the better part of half an hour as all the emotions he had kept locked up came to the surface. No one knew just how bad it had been and to finally talk about it fifteen years later was painfully soothing. And all the while, Roberts and Altman just sat there in silent support.

-0-

After meeting with Dr. Wexler that evening, it was decided that Jon would be admitted for a full week. As much as he hated to be there, he accepted his fate more readily than the thought of facing Ponch, Steve and Bruce. Dr. Altman gave him two days to make the request to see them himself and when it didn't happen, he told the counselor to bring the officers in the next morning.

Jon was standing by the window looking out over the city when they arrived, and when he turned around and saw them he froze. No one moved or spoke for close to thirty seconds. Bruce and Steve kept their eyes down, not trusting themselves to look at Jon, but Ponch never took his eyes off his partner, waiting for the unspoken signal: a glance, a hand movement, a twitch… anything that he could read in his best friend that told him Jon was okay with him. And when it came, they embraced as brothers.

Tears flowed as the four of them sat and began to talk. The doctor and counselor sat by the door taking notes as the officers talked openly about what happened, creating the first clear picture of the event for everyone. Jon completed the portrait when told them about the attack on his squad and facing Quan Diep. When he finished, no one spoke for a while until Bruce got up and stood in front of Jon.

"On behalf of Mitch and the rest of your squad," he paused a moment and then saluted, "thank you Sarge."

Dan and KC watched through their own tears as Jon slowly stood and returned the salute before giving Bruce a bear hug.

As they were walking back to her car ten minutes later, KC couldn't help but ask about the salute.

"He needed it," Bruce replied with a shrug of his shoulders.. "I just felt compelled to do it."

Steve agreed, "It validated him, I could see it in his eyes."

"He saw his Marines in us and," Ponch paused to swallow back a rush of tears, "they would've done it themselves if they could."

"I think you're right," KC said, "and I couldn't be any prouder of the three of you."

-0-

Recovery came more slowly than the four officers would have liked, especially for Jon. There were group sessions for the four of them and of course individual sessions as well; they all made forward progress with occasional back steps, but Danny and KC assured them that was normal. Six weeks after The Warehouse Incident, Bruce and Steve returned to light duty, which meant mostly station work and 'riding the desk.' Sgt. Getraer made an executive decision and sent them out as a team for a couple of hours a day and by the end of the week they were back on full duty.

Ponch came back the following week, though he fought it tooth and nail. "I don't ride without my partner," he told Getraer and the captain his first day back. "I'll ride the desk as long as it takes for him to return to duty."

Getraer found a loophole in that statement and when the time came, Ponch's first time out was with his former partner Bruce Nelson. Ponch argued valiantly to no avail and once he was out, he discovered that it was probably the right thing to do.

"Of course it was," Getraer said when they returned. "That's why they pay me the big bucks. To make the right choices."

Each time one of them came back on duty, the officers at the station tried not to make a big deal about it, but they were all family so there was usually some small hoopla made. So when Getraer announced in briefing that after a three month leave Jon was finally given the green light for light duty and would return the next day, the officers were buzzing with excitement.

"We've gotta welcome him back in style," Grossie said and described the decorations he wanted to festoon the briefing room with. "Hey Sarge, where's the tape measure? I need to see how long the chalkboard is."

Bonnie and Jeb squashed those plans flat, stating it would just embarrass Jon and the last thing they wanted to do was to make him uncomfortable.

"How about you just tell him, 'It's been a long three months and we're glad you're back, Baker,'" a familiar voice said from the back of the room.

Every head snapped around to see Officer Jon Baker standing there in full uniform, and Getraer smiled at their shock. This was Jon's idea and the sergeant wanted to do whatever made his officer most comfortable. The room erupted in applause, hugs and kisses and for a moment it was like nothing had ever happened.

But something did happen: four officers suffered tragedy and loss, coming out stronger on the other side. In time they all eventually agreed they were better men, and officers, for the experience, and they valued the deep bond it created in them. Together they had faced the past, and together they would face their future.