Baywatch/Animal Kingdom: Integrity (2/2)

[faye_dartmouth]

PART ONE
PART TWO



-o-

It had been a good plan when Mitch had come up with it. Ride to the hospital with the victim. It would be the fastest way to get the the hospital. It would totally work.

It was also very, very awkward.

The medic was professional and polite, but Adrian was skittish. He seemed to flinch away from every touch, and he didn’t seem to be listening to anything the medic was saying. People responded differently to near death situations -- Mitch knew that from experience -- but this behavior was still weird.

It was the behavior of someone who didn’t think they were safe yet.

Maybe that was PTSD or some shit.

Or maybe Adrian knew that this wasn’t over.

After all, if he was still alive, then it was likely that someone out there was still motivated to kill him. Even more now since Adrian was a living witness to whatever suspicious activity Brody had been checking out. Mitch could make that deduction from casual observation.

Adrian seemed to know it a lot better.

That technically wasn’t Mitch’s problem, except this was his bay. Any shit that went down in his bay was inherently his problem.

Plus, if Adrian was a witness?

Then so was Brody.

Situating himself a little closer to Adrian, Mitch leaned closer. “Anything you want to tell me before we get there?”

“What?” Adrian asked, clearly startled. “No, why?”

Adrian was probably a decent liar, under normal circumstances.

Not so much at the moment. “Because we’re almost to the hospital, and you have about three more minutes where I can help you.”

Face blank, Adrian shook his head. “I -- don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know.”

“This isn’t over yet,” Mitch warned him softly while the medic jotted some notes on a piece of paper. “For either of us.”

Somehow, that seemed to resolve Adrian. Something steadied in his expression, something flickered in his countenance. “I need to make a call,” he said, and he turned away from Mitch to the paramedic. “Hey, can I make a call?”

So, Adrian didn’t think he needed Mitch.

The ambulance came to a stop outside the emergency room and Mitch was the first one to climb out the back, not looking as Adrian was wheeled out. Because the fact was, right then, Mitch didn’t need Adrian, either.

Because they weren’t on the water anymore.

Which meant Mitch’s only job was Brody.

-o-

On the water, Mitch was always in control.

In a hospital?

Shit, Mitch had nothing. Sure, the nurses liked him, but that didn’t get him very far. He barely caught a glimpse of Brody in an exam room before Summer tearfully took him back to the waiting room where she explained what she knew between halting breaths of disbelief.

“They’ve already transfused him, so that’s the good news,” she said. “His vitals have started to stabilize and they say that’s good, so. You know. That’s good.”

She was fumbling, so clearly out of her element. Mitch knew how she felt, even if he couldn’t permit himself to show it just now.

Wetting her lips, Summer tucked her hair behind her ear. “They’re going to take him up to surgery, you know. Make sure everything’s okay. That’s all. They have to make sure he’s okay.”

“Blood loss would be the greatest risk,” Mitch reasoned. “And we got him here. We’ve done all we can.”

Usually, that was enough. Usually, that was some sort of consolation.

Usually, Mitch felt like it meant something.

His words today rang hollow.

It sounded crazy.

Really, really crazy.

“Oh, and, um, the cops are on their way,” Summer said, almost as an afterthought. “I said I didn’t know anything, but I think they’ll want to talk to you. It’s standard procedure for all gunshot wounds.”

“Right,” Mitch said for the lack of something better to say. He shifted in his seat, suddenly struck by his own uselessness. “And they just want us to wait here?”

“The nurse said she’d come by to tell us when they’d gotten him up into surgery,” Summer offered. “They said it’d be soon.”

“And so that’s it? We just wait?” Mitch said.

Summer looked at him, a little bleak. “What else can we do?”

Mitch stared back, considering the question. What else could they do?

He’d pulled Brody out of the water.

He’d gotten him back to shore.

They were here, at the hospital.

What else could Mitch -- the lifeguard -- do?

His job, for all intents and purposes -- was done now.

Or was it?

Restlessly, Mitch bounced his leg. “Are the others coming?”

“Yeah, they’re on their way,” Summer said. “Steph had to rearrange a few shifts, but she said she’d be here with Ronnie and CJ.”

Mitch nodded. “Then you wait here, let them know what’s up,” he said, getting to his feet.

Summer looked perplexed. “And where are you going?”

“Brody asked me to finish the job,” he said, matter of fact. “So that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

-o-

See, the thing was, the job was never just pulling people out of the water.

That was what Brody had thought at the start. He’d thought all the other shit was crazy. He didn’t think that now. He lived and breathed Baywatch, and he was the first to volunteer for all the crazy ass missions Mitch came up with. Brody went undercover; Brody chased down bad guys. Brody answered calls about suspicious activities five miles out. Because Brody knew the job was taking care of the bay at all costs.

So, sure, Mitch had saved Adrian’s life. He’d gotten them all back to shore.

But that didn’t mean the job was over.

Not when there were thugs shooting guns out there.

And not when Mitch had a viable lead to follow.

It would be hours until he knew whether or not Brody would be okay.

It didn’t have to be hours until he figured out what the hell had happened in those extra minutes it took him to rally backup.

Traversing the ER, Mitch discreetly looked through the exam areas. The curtains were clear; the admit area didn’t have who he wanted. Then, he saw a line of more secure rooms, perfect for a stable patient who needed monitoring.

Especially one who needed to wait for the police before being released.

Adrian had been very stable, showing minimal signs of any repercussion. The doctors would want to run tests, check his reflexes and gauge his mental state. They would check his mobility and watch for signs of complications. If his lungs sounded wet, they might conduct an x-ray and monitor him for signs of pneumonia. He probably wouldn’t need to be admitted unless the tests revealed something Mitch had missed.

But that didn’t mean Adrian was free to go.

Gunshots wounds automatically triggered a police investigation. But if Mitch could get there first, maybe he could keep Adrian from clamming up. He’d seen the look on his face: there was no way that dude was about to tell the truth to the cops.

Maybe Ellerbee and his people would launch an investigation to find out the truth. Maybe they wouldn’t. Mitch wasn’t about to wait around to find out.

A glance into the first room showed an old woman reading a book. The second room had a mother with a little girl curled up on her lap. Then, at the third door, Mitch recognized the hunched figure. He looked small on the bed, chewing his lip nervously as he played anxiously with the IV in the crook of his elbow. The hair had dried significantly blonder, and his squared jaw was tight with tension.

Mitch didn’t knock; he didn’t ask for an invitation.

He went in, daring someone to call him on it.

Adrian looked up immediately, clearly surprised. He seemed to be expecting someone else, and his expression was one of disappointment and relief.

Mitch wasn’t the guy Adrian wanted to see.

But it was pretty clear that he wasn’t the worst person to show up uninvited to his hospital room.

Closing the door behind him, Mitch crossed over to the bed and sat down in the chair. “Did you make that phone call yet?”

Adrian flinched a little, as if he’d forgotten that Mitch heard that bit. “Yeah,” he said. “I did.”

“Someone to spring you from this place?” Mitch asked. “Before the cops come?”

Adrian’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he was stymied. He recovered, but not quickly enough. Adrian had every intention of blowing this joint; he didn’t want the cops involved. Whoever he had called, it wasn’t his mom.

Was it someone who could protect him?

Was it someone who could fix this?

Maybe someone who could do both?

Whoever it was Adrian was waiting for, he would have to keep on waiting. Mitch was pretty sure that Adrian hadn’t intended for Brody to get shot -- any more than he had intended to get himself drowned. He was the victim here, Mitch could see that in the slouch of his shoulders and he anxiety drawn between his eyebrows.

But Mitch could also see the keenness in his expression. His eyes weren’t blank and hollowed, the way they would be for someone who hadn’t seen this shit coming. Whatever had happened out there, Adrian wasn’t purely innocent. Sure, sometimes people were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but five miles off the coast? With suspicious dudes holding him at gunpoint?

There were signs of bruising on his face. His lip was split. That shit didn’t happen when the victim was random. That sort of thing wasn’t a coincidence, and it sure as hell wasn’t an accident.

Whatever was going down in Mitch’s bay, this guy had something to do with it, and Mitch had no time for that shit on the best of days.

Today?

With Brody in surgery?

Was not the best of days.

Mitch was straight up out of compassion. He wanted to fix this, which meant he needed to know why right here, right now.

“Just a friend,” Adrian finally said with a rasp in his voice. He attempted to smile, as if to put Mitch at ease. He had a nice smile; he could be charming. But Mitch could see through it as the act it was right now.

“So you’re not planning on blowing out of here before the cops come?”

The directness of the question wasn’t what Adrian had been expecting. Obviously, he’d been hoping his charm and innate look of innocence would be enough to deflect Mitch from his train of thought. And truth be told, Mitch imagined it worked on most people.

But Mitch wasn’t most people.

He stared Adrian down even harder until the younger man finally relented.

With a flush across his freckled cheeks, Adrian looked down. “It’s not what you think.”

“You sure about that?” Mitch asked. “Because I think you got in over your head with some bad people, and they turned on you. Brody came out there and prevented your murder, which got him shot. I’m sure you feel bad about that, but you don’t feel nearly bad enough to tell the cops what you know because you know it’ll implicate you, too.”

Adrian stared back at him, mouth gaping slightly.

Mitch raised his eyebrows. “Is that about right?”

Clearly, this was not Adrian at his best. Closing his mouth, he seemed momentarily befuddled. Then, the pretense drained away, and he shook his head. “If I could do anything to change what happened to your friend, I would.”

Mitch nodded. “I believe you,” he said. “But you’re acting like you can’t help him now.”

“I can’t,” Adrian said, sounding a little desperate. “What’s done it done, man.”

“But those guys are still out there, the ones who did this to you, to him,” Mitch said. “And maybe you know a guy, maybe you know a bunch a guys, so maybe you’ll be safe now. Maybe some stupid knight in shining armor will come and spirit you away, give you a fake identity, the whole nine yards. Maybe you’ll live happily ever after now. But Brody? He’s got to go back to the beach. He doesn’t have someone who can make this all better. That’s why we need to catch the guys that did this and make sure they can’t do it again.”

It was a good point, and Mitch knew it. More importantly, he could see that Adrian knew it. It was also one that Adrian hadn’t fully considered, not while he was thinking about saving his own neck.

“Look,” Mitch continued, seizing on the vulnerability he sensed in Adrian’s commitment to his plan. “I get the impulse, okay? You don’t want to go to jail, and you don’t want those idiots to come back for you either. Getting the hell out seems like the safest bet for you.”

“They will kill me,” Adrian said, voice lowered as he spoke emphatically. “What I know about them, what I did. They will kill me. If I stay here, I’m dead.”

“And the lifeguard who saved you? The one who got saved trying to save your life? What about him?” Mitch asked. “You walk out, you’re leaving him totally vulnerable, and for what? Because he was selfless enough to save your life? Because he answered a call you didn’t even make?”

This appeared to distress Adrian even more than before.

“He’s in surgery right now, because of you,” Mitch said with a purposeful nod at Adrian. “That’s his job, and he did it without question, so maybe you don’t think you owe him anything. But I can tell you that’s not the only part of this job. We’re here to keep the bay safe. And that means bringing those assholes in. And I will stop at nothing to make sure that happens.”

Eyebrows knitted together, Adrian shook his head. “You’re just a lifeguard, man. Your job is done.”

“If Brody had thought like that, you’d be dead right now,” Mitch said. “We don’t settle. We always finish the job. And if this kind of shit is going down in my bay, I’m going to stop at nothing to make sure it’s done, even if that means keeping you here against your will.”

Wetting his lips, Adrian made a weak gesture. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The fact that he had to qualify it with honestly made it less believable than ever. He certainly hoped that Adrian had a good day job, because he really shouldn’t be involved with crime. He would be much better off just being the nice guy he so clearly could be.

Mitch didn’t have time for a crisis of conscience, however. Not when time was of the essence. “Just cut the shit,” he said. “You were on a boat, being held at gunpoint miles from shore. You’ve been beat up. You pissed someone off because you had a job and you didn’t do it. So you need to tell me what the job was and who you were working for right now.”

Almost reflexively, Adrian made a face. “I don’t have to tell you anything,” he said, words imbued with a strange sort of confidence. Probably because he knew that whoever he had called was on his way, and as scary as Mitch could be, Adrian’s backup might be scarier.

That might be intimidating to someone else.

But not to Mitch.

Instead, he found it enlightening.

This guy in front of him was really just a kid. A damn kid.

Adrian looked innocent at first glance, but moments like that showed the experience he had with this sort of thing. Mitch didn’t know how a kid like this got involved with bad shit but you couldn’t go by appearances. Brody’s history had shown him that.

It also showed him that one bad choice didn’t define a person.

A thousand bad choices didn’t define a person.

Just the next choice.

All Mitch could do was let him make that choice.

“No, you don’t,” Mitch agreed. “But you will stay here until the cops come, I can promise you that. And you will talk to the cops. Maybe you lie to them, maybe you spin some stupid story. Okay, I can’t stop you there, but I know these cops. And they know me. We’ve worked together more times than you can imagine, and when I tell them to look into you, you better believe they will. And whoever you called to come get you? Will be on the witness list, too. Maybe we never catch the bad guys, but I’m pretty sure with all of that, we can catch you for something.”

Yeah, Mitch could do more than let Adrian make the choice.

Adrian made bad choices sometimes.

Mitch could tip the odds in both their favors by limiting his choices, too. Mitch liked helping people find their true potential and become the best versions of himself. He also liked getting the job done and making sure the people who hurt Brody were behind bars. So he wasn’t opposed to rigging the system every now and then.

The threat was explicit, and Adrian responded by stiffening. His blue eyes flashed. “You don’t know who I’m connected to.”

It was intended to be menacing, but Mitch had stabbed himself with a deadly urchin in order to blow up a murderous chick with a firework. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who got intimidated. “I don’t?” Mitch asked, none too coy. “Then tell me.”

It was a damn good segue.

Effective.

Adrian had balls for the bravado he’d shown so far, but beneath all that, he was still a kid who was in over his head. A kid who had made mistakes. A kid who could still make the right ones if he was giving the right chances.

Deflating, Adrian’s confidence left him. Sitting on the bed, he looked smaller again, like the victim he ostensibly was. Beyond the bad choices he’d made, he was a guy who wanted to live life, who wanted to find love. He was softer than he looked; softer than his associations might have one believe. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said with a note of apology in his quiet voice. He sighed. “I swear, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

It was something of a peace offering, and Mitch appreciated that. But he couldn’t quite indulge it. “I didn’t figure,” he said smoothly. “Seeing as they almost killed you out there.”

At the mention, Adrian’s jaw tightened, the muscles going taut in the squareness of his jaw. That point, which Adrian had hid under his associations and bravado, was not one that the guy had forgotten -- no matter how much he tried.

He was still scared.

His eyes kept flicking to the door.

He was really scared.

Mitch pressed his advantage -- anything to get this job done. “And I have a feeling that when your corpse isn’t found, they’re going to realize that they have a big loose end to tie up,” he continued, eyes unrelentingly on Adrian. “I can’t imagine that’s going to make them very happy.”

Pressing and pressing, Mitch was waiting for the breaking point.

With that, he finally found it.

Adrian’s expression crumpled. His face twisted with disappointment, with fear, with regret. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with emotion and his eyes suddenly grew bright with the tears he didn’t quite shed. “Shit, it was so stupid,” he said in a rush as the color flushed in his cheeks again. “It’s my fault. All of it.”

“What happened?” Mitch asked, not letting his advantage go to waste.

Adrian shook his head, this time with a look that implored Mitch. “I shouldn’t tell you.”

Mitch frowned. “If you’re worried about implicating yourself, I can talk to the cops--”

“No,” Adrian said, cutting him off emphatically. “I’m worried about more people getting hurt.”

The pretenses were gone now; well and truly done. There was something defeated in his disposition, like he knew that this was the inevitable outcome. If Brody had taught Mitch anything about bad life choices, it was that people usually knew that they were doing the wrong thing. It was just that in the moment the consequences never seemed that bad. It was about trading the moment for the rest of your life, and you never realized the sacrifice until it was too late to take back.

It had taken a lot for Brody to overcome that, but he had.

Mitch had to believe there was hope for Adrian, too.

For Adrian’s sake.

And for Brody’s.

Adrian took a trembling breath before continuing. “You were right, about those guys,” he said. “They will come after me, and they will come after your friend. If I tell you anything more specific than that, they’ll come after you, too.”

Mitch was undaunted. “Taking risks is part of the job.”

“No, you’re lifeguards,” Adrian said with another futile gesture at Mitch. “You’re supposed to get tans and save people from drowning. This is above your paygrade.”

Mitch scoffed at the insinuation. “For the record, you were drowning. And we’re Baywatch lifeguards. You don’t know our paygrade.”

Adrian rolled his eyes, almost in exhaustion. “But I smuggle drugs, okay?” he said, finally blurting it out.

It was so sudden that it probably should have caught Mitch off guard, but for some reason, it just made everything make sense.

Of course Adrian smuggled drugs.

That was why bad guys tried to kill him on a boat.

That was why he could make a phone call to make this go away.

That was why he looked scared but not surprised.

That was why.

With frustration, Adrian ran a hand through his hair. “I’m a surfer, right? Always in and out of countries for competitions, the best waves. So this is an easy thing on the side. Just a way to make money so I don’t have to get a day job, so I can just stick to surfing, even when it doesn’t pay the best,” he explained. “And those guys who did this to me? Who did this to your friend? They’re my dealers. I run shit for them. I get it through customs because of my surfing credentials. No one looks twice. It’s a win-win.”

The way he made it sound was so easy, like it was all figured out.

That was the way everyone thought about shitty choice right up until they point that they went very, very wrong.

If Adrian had had half a brain, he would have seen that the easy way was never a good way. If Adrian had had a shred of integrity, he would have realized that the risk wasn’t going to be worth it. If Adrian had thought ahead -- really thought ahead -- he would have come to know that this really was inevitable.

The feeling twisted in Mitch’s gut, and it wasn’t anger. He wasn’t pissed at Adrian, this guy he barely knew, for taking a risk that got Brody shot. Mitch made a point never to judge the people he saved. He wasn’t in any position to decide who was worth saving and who wasn’t.

It was harder to remain impartial when it had cost so much, though.

When one save had required so much sacrifice.

When one job had nearly cost Mitch everything.

When it had nearly cost Brody everything.

Shoulders slumping, Adrian shook his head miserably. “You can call the cops if you want,” he said. “I’ll tell them the truth now.”

That was the answer he’d been looking for. That was why he’d come in here. To find out the truth; to finish the job.

But the job was to save people.

And sitting there, on the hospital bed, Adrian looked more lost than ever.

He sighed, his own bravado faltering. There was something about this guy, something about his facades. His faith in himself had been shaken by this incident, and he was struggling to find his footing emotionally. That made him a little too brash; a little too unsteady; a little too vulnerable when pushed just right.

It reminded him of Brody, the disgrace Olympian who’d acted like an idiot when he first showed up on Mitch’s beach. It had taken several tries and a lot of patience for Brody to finally get it right, but a year out, Mitch would be hard pressed to say it wasn’t worth effort.

Brody had gotten it right.

Maybe Adrian could, too.

With the right help.

And a second chance. “Well, the cops are coming either way, I told you,” he said with a lot less vigor now. “And as for me, you said it yourself. I’m a lifeguard. It’s not like I’ve got anything called jurisdiction. We’re just two guys, talking in a hospital room.”

This time, Adrian’s expression gave way to confusion. It was warranted perhaps, given the unexpected shift in Mitch’s demeanor. “But you told me that was why you were here,” he said. “And, I just admitted everything. You know that I deserved what happened. I knew the risk I was taking, and I took it anyway. I thought I could handle it.”

Mitch let out a long, weary breath. It had been a hell of a day. A hell of a year. Maybe his own softening was just as inevitable as all the rest -- and he hadn’t seen it coming either. “We all think we can handle it,” he said, remembering how confident Brody had been taking he all this morning. He couldn’t help but think how confident he had been a year ago, when he thought that taking Brody under his wing would be a favor to Brody and nothing more.

Being wrong was a lot easier than Mitch cared to admit.

And it was much too hard to deny that now.

Brody was the man Mitch had trained him to be, and Mitch had to live with that.

Even if Brody died for it.

Adrian looked increasingly distressed. “But--” he started with a splutter. “There’s more to this case. I’m not a complete idiot. You have to know it was more than the drugs.”

Mitch gave him a look of controlled skepticism. The was plenty of evidence to the contrary right now, but outright cynicism took too much work.

Adrian took the point with a shake of his head as he continued. “That phone all I made. The person who’s coming for me. They’re not all on the same side of things, if you know what I mean.”

Mitch had worked this bay long enough; he knew.

And yet, he shook his head. “Are you saying you started your own little drug war in my bay? And that you invited it here? To this hospital?”

The color drained from Adrian’s cheeks this time, accentuating the freckles even more than before. “The guys I worked for wanted me to give him up -- and he’s, well, he’s a friend, kind of. I don’t know. More sometimes. But with him and me, it’s personal. It’s not business. But the guys I worked for wouldn’t take that for an answer.”

“So you started a drug war to protect someone?” Mitch attempted to clarify.

Looking vaguely flustered, Adrian could apparently find no argument to that conclusion. He bobbed his head.

“But you were willing to die rather than give your friend up?” he asked, trying to parse this information. It explained why the guys had roughed Adrian up. And it explained why Adrian had let it get to that point. He wasn’t just trying to protect him; no, he was protecting someone else.

In essence, he was doing the job, the job that all people had. The job to look out for the people you cared about.

The job Brody had learned over the last year.

The job Mitch was remembering to do right here, right now.

Scared as he was, the question seemed solidifying for Adrian. His blue eyes steadied; his expression resolved. He nodded once. Only once. “Yeah,” he said, almost like the implications were a realization to himself. “I was.”

All Mitch could do was sigh.

Of course he wanted to hate this guy. He wanted to hate him from bringing drugs onto his beach and for stirring up trouble in his bay. If Adrian had made smart choices, none of this would have happened. Adrian carried some of this responsibility, and Mitch would not overlook that.

But everyone had reasons, and the reasons mattered. You know what was more important than a guy barfing in a pool and tanking his team’s chances at a medal?

The instability and isolation that led him there.

The reason never excused the action, but you couldn’t change the action. You could still change the reason.

People just needed another chance.

Sometimes that made all the difference.

All he had to do was look at Brody.

Finishing the job.

Adrian had made mistakes, but he didn’t deserve to die for them. Did he deserve jail time? Shit, how was Mitch supposed to know?

He just knew that this kid reminded him of Brody.

He closed his eyes, hating the decision almost the instant he made it.

Opening them again, he locked his eyes on Adrian. “Well, then you got it right when it counted,” he said.

Looking vexed, Adrian looked woefully unconvinced. “You think that matters?”

Mitch sighed. He had spent the last year helping Brody prove this to be true. Who was Mitch to deny it now -- especially when this guy, right here, was his save? “I think it has to matter,” he said. He shrugged. “Things get screwed up. We make mistakes. All we have is the next decision, and that’s the one that matters because it’s the only one we can change.”

The notion seemed to be weighty for Adrian, still hooked up to monitors and pale in a hospital bed. It wasn’t fair that he reminded Mitch of Brody -- not in appearance, but in something far less tangible -- but it certainly worked in Adrian’s favor right now, even if he didn’t fully realize it himself. Instead, Adrian admitted, “I don’t know what to do next. I mean, I know what will save my life, but I also know what would be the right thing for your friend. I just don’t know what to go with.”

“Well, some choices aren’t ones you have to make,” Mitch reasoned. “Isn’t there a way to do both?”

“How, though?” Adrian asked. “If I give a statement, the cops will never be able to protect me. But if I leave now, those guys will come after your friend.”

“So maybe you tell me the names,” Mitch said. “Maybe you give me their description, their location. Maybe you tell it to me, and I tell it to the cops.”

Adrian stopped, eyes going wide again as he considered the possibility. “You’d do that?” he asked. “You’d give the statement?”

“I’d tell the cops the truth -- you told me what you knew,” Mitch said. He shrugged. “If you’re not here when they get here, how would I know anything about that?”

Adrian stared a moment longer then laughed in disbelief. “You’re going to let me go?”

The life he’d led so far, the people he’d been around: it was likely that the idea of grace was new to him. Fortunately, Mitch was well versed in the subject after the previous year.

“I told you, I’m not a cop,” Mitch said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. If I catch you doing shit in my bay again, I will drag you in myself.”

The look of wonder almost transformed Adrian’s face. This was the guy at his best, Mitch knew. Probably what he looked like out on the waves. Probably what he looked like when he was with someone he cared about. “You’re being serious right now,” Adrian said, as if the concept still didn’t parse for him. Considering that the last misunderstanding he’d been through had led to him nearly being left to drown in the ocean, there was probably something to that. “You’re actually going to just let me go, walk away, even after I got your friend shot?”

Well, Adrian wasn’t pulling his punches at least.

Mitch had to respect that.

Even if the thought of Brody in surgery still made him cringe.

Mitch was a man of resolve, however. When he made up his mind, he made up his mind. It had worked when he invited a disaster like Brody to join the team. He had to hope that this one wouldn’t bite him in the ass either. “I’m going to let you go so you can have another chance to do the right thing,” Mitch said with careful clarification.

Adrian understood his meaning. The hope was colored by honest uncertainty. He shook his head. “The life I live; the people I’m with; it’s not so easy,” he admitted. “I’m not sure what lines to draw, because there are some things -- some people -- I’m not sure I’m willing to sacrifice.”

A year ago, Mitch probably wouldn’t have given that a ton of credence. After all, a year ago he thought that the people he cared about would always be on the straight and narrow. Brody had changed that, though. Brody had changed a lot of things for him.

A year ago, he probably couldn’t have made sense of what Adrian meant.

Today, he kind of thought he might be able to.

Sometimes it was more than a job.

Sometimes it was the people.

“Then you have to ask yourself what’s worth the risk,” Mitch said, because that was the only measuring stick he had left. Probably, it was the only measuring stick he needed. He smiled. “If it helps, I think I’ve had harder saves than a guy like you.”

Adrian didn’t laugh; he didn’t smile. Instead, he looked quite serious. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “And do they all make it? The people you save?”

Mitch sobered also at the question. It hadn’t been the one he’d been expecting. “Not all of them, no,” Mitch said, because he did remember the ones he’d lost. He always remembered the ones he couldn’t get back. Sometimes it was nothing but pure dumb luck.

Adrian survived because Mitch had arrived with a few seconds to spare.

Brody had nearly bled to death because Mitch had arrived a few seconds too late.

Sometimes it was both.

Sometimes it just was.

“Then why me?” Adrian asked, even quieter than before.

Why was Adrian sitting up and talking when Brody was in surgery?

Why was Adrian not in a body bag when other people Mitch pulled out of the surf were?

Mitch didn’t have a clue. He probably would never have a clue. Why did Brody end up on his beach for community service? Why had Brody been the one to follow up on the Leeds investigation? Why had Mitch been in time to save him from Leeds then but been nearly too late now?

Call it fate; call it luck.

Call it whatever you damn well pleased.

It was just life.

Mitch didn’t have anything to gain by questioning it.

Only acceptance would allow him to keep moving forward.

“Does it matter?” he asked. “You got the chance. And you may never know just how hard won your second chance was, but I hope you do. I hope you understand what I mean when I say it wasn’t free.”

The price had been paid.

Just not by Adrian this time around.

“Here,” Adrian said, holding out his hand. “I need something to write with.”

Mitch was still in his swim gear; it wasn’t like he had paper and pen ready. But by looking around the room, he was able to come up with something. He handed the pencil and the paper to Adrian, who took it somewhat expectantly with a resolve that hadn’t been there before.

Starting to scribble, Adrian nodded. “These names, this information -- it’s what your cop friends will need for a lead, but it’s not a guarantee your friend who got shot will be safe,” he said. He continued to write. “I mean, I can’t even promise you that it won’t make things worse if you follow these leads.”

The warning was not one without some weight. Mitch had only known Adrian for a brief amount of time, and while his honesty could be called into question on certain topics, his grasp of the severity of the situation showed no signs of being overstated. He knew better than Mitch just how close he’d come to ending up dead. There was no reason to think that his warning wasn’t justified.

In fact, Mitch could only conclude from the arc of their conversation that it was a warning made out of genuine concern and compassion.

“I can’t ask for more than you can give,” Mitch said. “A lead was all I wanted when I came in here.”

Adrian continued to write, nodding a little more as he thought up another tidbit to scrawl out. “You’ve done a lot for me, so I’m willing to give you this,” he said. “But if I’m honest, if you let me go, I’m hoping I can resolve this for all of us.”

“I’m not encouraging anything illegal,” Mitch said. “That’s the opposite of what I said. Because yeah, I want to get the guys who did this to Brody, but it’s not something worth any cost. If you continue down this path, you’ll be here again. Or worse.”

A rye smile quirked Adrian’s lips for the first time since Mitch had brought him back to life. “You really do believe that people can change, don’t you?”

“I know it; I’ve seen it,” Mitch said. “That guy who got shot? Brody? A year ago, he was the biggest asshole on the beach. I hated him. He was a selfish bastard who I thought had no place on my team. Now, he’s the guy who risked everything to save your life. That’s real change, and it wasn’t easy. It still isn’t.”

Hand paused, Adrian looked up at him, almost in wonder. “How can someone even do that?”

“With the right people behind you,” Mitch said. “I mean, I don’t know who it is you called, but I hope they’re the right person.”

Adrian’s smile faltered, but when it returned, it was a little more confident. “I think it is,” he said. Then, he lifted his shoulders. “I hope it is, maybe.”

“Just know that if I catch you doing shit on my beach again, there won’t be another free pass,” Mitch said. “I will protect my bay at any cost. One time, I know shit happens. But twice? It’s not going to fly.”

Finishing his writing, Adrian held out the paper to Mitch. “That point is duly noted,” he said while Mitch collected the paper. “Those are the names of the guys who did this -- and their working aliases that I know about. I gave you a few addresses, too. Places I know they’ve been recently, drop locations, that sort of thing. It should be enough to start building a case.”

If the information was accurate, it was more than enough. Mitch had to take Adrian at his word.

“Thanks,” he said, hoping that he wouldn’t be proven wrong this time around. “This is a great start.”

“No, thank you,” Adrian returned. “You’re the one who saved me, remember?”

“Ah, well,” Mitch said. “Part of the job.”

“Well,” Adrian said. “It’s a pretty good job, then.”

“Yeah,” Mitch said. “I’d recommend it to anybody. Especially competitive surfers looking for a new start.”

Adrian blushed, but this time it wasn’t embarrassment. The offer was implicit, but Adrian shook his head. “Maybe another time,” he said. “I’ve got some things I’ve got to figure out first, but I do hope your friend is okay.”

Mitch sobered somewhat at the mention of Brody. He tried not to think about him still in surgery, Summer anxious in the waiting room while the others arrived. “Yeah,” he said, the word a little stiff. “Me, too.”

“I’d say see you ‘round,” Adrian ventured.

“But neither of us actually wants that,” Mitch concluded for him.

Concluded for both of them.

Because some people you saved from drowning.

Some people you saved from themselves.

In the end, you still had to walk away and let them keep going.

That was the job, in the end.

And Mitch would always do the job.

-o-

Looking at the folded note of names and addresses, Mitch opened the door back into the hall again. While the ER had been active when Mitch first got there, things had picked up now. He saw a lifeguard or two he recognized darting toward the waiting room where he’d left Summer. He even saw a cop following them, presumably to take witness statements. Undoubtedly, it was a matter of minutes before they realized that Adrian was their best source of information.

Mitch glanced around. He had promised Adrian he wouldn’t stop him from slipping out AMA, but he had made no promises about ensuring that outcome. He was a guy of his word, no doubt about that, but he wouldn’t interfere with the police if they got here first. Mitch had his limits.

As he wondered about what he should do next, he saw a new commotion that made him do a double take. Just down the hallway, away from the admit desk, there was a man, forcefully demanding something from one of the nurses. She was a small, petite thing -- sweet looking, too -- but she appeared wholly unswayed by the man’s invectives, which were becoming increasingly less diplomatic.

It was a hospital; people wouldn’t always be at their best.

But there was something different about this guy.

Maybe it was the gruff demeanor, the way his blonde beard highlighted his hard-set eyes. His hair was long and pulled back into a hasty ponytail, several long strands falling loose. He was dressed in jeans and a white tank, revealing muscled arms and calloused hands.

The look, the way he carried himself -- this was a guy who had seen stressful situations before.

But even so, he was out of his element.

Mitch put the pieces together before the next words out of the man’s mouth confirmed it. “Adrian, is that so hard? I’m looking for a guy named Adrian--”

The nurse was about to explain admit procedures, patient confidentiality, active police investigations -- and probably more -- when Mitch crossed over to them. Why? He wasn’t entirely sure. This wasn’t part of his promise, but he found himself curious. Who was the guy who Adrian thought was worth the risk?

“Hey,” Mitch said in that way of his. He smiled, patting the long-haired man on the shoulder like they were the oldest and best of friends. “You made it!”

It was an effective gesture. The nurse, who had been on high alert, looked immediately relieved. The man, however, looked like he was about ready to throttle Mitch on principle alone.

What principle? Probably didn’t matter.

All Mitch knew was that it wasn’t a principle Mitch would probably live by.

Which meant that this was probably the right fit in all the wrong ways.

“I was just talking to Adrian,” Mitch continued without missing a beat. He smiled at the nurse. “Thanks, I can take it from here.”

She nodded at him with weary thanks before scurrying off to do her job. Mitch led the man two steps down the hall before they both stopped short.

The man looked at Mitch furiously.

Mitch returned the look with less vitriol but just as much intention. This guy was smaller than Mitch, but there was no doubt that he could carry himself pretty damn well in a fight. Most people would find him intimidating.

Mitch wasn’t most people.

And he’d had a really, really long, shitty day already.

“Who the hell are you?” the man said, voice in a low growl.

Mitch didn’t even flinch. “I saved your friend’s life,” he said. “Surfer, right? Named Adrian? Called you about an emergency?”

This was information that the guy didn’t know quite what to do with. Part of him clearly still wanted to punch something, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew that Mitch was his best way to Adrian, and in that moment, his concern for Adrian overrode the rest of his instincts. “You know Adrian? Where is he?”

“Close, and he’s fine by the way,” Mitch said, making a point to look down his nose at the other guy. If they were going to posture for dominance, then Mitch was sure as hell going to win. Not because he was a macho asshole, but because if this guy was the first and only call Adrian made, then Mitch couldn’t underestimate him or the shit he was into.

The subtle barb landed, just as Mitch had hoped. “He’s really okay?”

“I had to pull him out of the water, performed CPR, but yeah, he’s surprisingly well,” Mitch said.

The man paled slightly, but his entire disposition changed. He had come in something like a thug. Now, he looked like a worried friend.

An anxious partner, maybe.

Clearly, while this guy knew Adrian was in the hospital, he hadn’t heard the whole story. He probably hadn’t wanted to know the whole story.

And to think, if this was his reaction for part of the story?

No wonder Adrian was convinced this problem would be resolved without police intervention.

“I take it you’re here to break him out?” Mitch pressed.

The man’s face screwed up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It might have been an effective deflection with someone else. Mitch was done with shit today, though. “I know more than you think I do. Adrian’s filled me in.”

This earned disgust from the man as he puffed out his chest and raised his chin. “You don’t know shit.”

Mitch raised his eyebrows in an underwhelmed response. “I know that Adrian doesn’t want to talk to the cops,” he said. “And I know that someone tried to drown him today. Succeeded, too. If me and my time hadn’t responded to a call, you’d be picking your friend up at the morgue.”

The plainness of it seemed to hit the man like a blow. He winced. “Damn it,” he hissed. “I told Adrian to be careful. He promised me it’d never get this close again.”

“You don’t get much closer,” Mitch said. “He was really damn lucky.”

The man gave Mitch another look, reassessing him not as a threat but as a potential ally. They clearly wouldn’t have much in common, but saving Adrian’s life was enough to buy Mitch a little cred.

A lot of cred.

Much more soberly now, the man nodded. “Thank you.”

Mitch wasn’t the kind of guy to say I told you so.

Well, not to anyone except Brody.

When he deserved it.

Sometimes, though, Brody deserved better.

Now was one of those times. “I’m a lifeguard,” he said, because the job had to matter now. It had to matter now of all times. “This is what I do.”

Even when it hurt.

Even when it turned out wrong.

Even when the cost wasn’t fair.

“Still,” the man said, because he wasn’t an idiot. He knew how to read people. He knew that there had been sacrifice involved. “It means something. I’m the kind of guy you want to have in your debt.”

Of course.

Mitch wasn’t surprised.

He scoffed anyway, shaking his head. “So you are in on it all, too?” he asked. “When Adrian said he made a call, I figured it was to someone who could fix shit outside the system, but I didn’t know how much you’d know.”

The gratitude faded, becoming somewhat skeptical and overtly cautious. This was a man who didn’t trust easily, and Mitch was treading on ground he hadn’t shored up. “Man, you’re the one who doesn’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, as if Mitch had just made a bad and very silly joke. “I’m a friend, like you said.”

“Oh, please,” Mitch said, sparing a glance as another cop walked by to the waiting room. They were running out of time, and Mitch had the feeling that it Adrian might ultimately comply with the cops if he had to. This guy? Maybe not. He stepped closer and didn’t back down. “Adrian told me enough. About the drugs he smuggles. Something about surfboards, right?”

Clearly, this guy hadn’t expected this. A lifestyle like this didn’t make people open to outsiders. The fact that Adrian had confided in Mitch meant more than he’d allowed himself to previously realize.

Face darkening, the man grabbed Mich by the arm, drawing aside and away from the passing people in the hallway. His eyes were intense and bright as he stared Mitch down, like he didn’t care that Mitch was twice his size with biceps the size of his head.

“You know nothing,” he said, the words thick, heavy and imbued with a threat. A threat of what, that wasn’t clear. Mitch figured he probably wouldn’t want to know. Sure, Mitch could hold his own in any situations, but the way this guy carried himself, Mitch thought it’d still be an even fight.

But Mitch wasn’t here to fight.

He shrugged dismissively, keeping his disposition open. “I already told Adrian, I see no need to tell the cops anything other than the fact that a couple of assholes tried to commit murder out at sea,” he said. “Why -- that’s not super important, I think.”

The guy shook his head, jaw locked tight. “That’s absolute bullshit,” he said. “There are ways; I have ways to keep you quiet.”

This time, Mitch scoffed even louder. “I thought you were in my debt.”

The guy shrugged, too cool with a false and forced confidence that had been learned by years of experience. “I never said all those ways were bad,” he said. “I’m always looking for new friends.”

At that, Mitch made a face. “Dude, are you actually trying to buy me off now?” he asked. “I told you, I’m a lifeguard. That’s my job. I’m not in this shit for the money, and I sure as hell don’t want to pretend like I condone any of the shit you and Adrian are involved in. Adrian is in there, thinking he doesn’t have a choice, but I know better. We all have a choice.”

Shaking his head, the guy wrinkled his nose. “It’s not nearly that easy.”

“It’s just choices,” Mitch said. “I made the choice to save your friend despite the fact that it put someone I cared about in danger. But I knew my job. I made the choice. Adrian can make that choice, and so can you. Maybe you can make it together.”

“And sometimes the choices are made for you before you’re even born,” the guy said venomously. “You can’t walk away from it, not when it finds you. It always finds you.”

“That’s what we tell ourselves. We pretend like we’ve all got it figured out but then life hits us in the face, and we’re lucky if someone can pull us out.”

He was talking about Adrian.

He was talking about Brody.

But mostly, he was talking about himself.

This time, it was the guy’s turned to scoff. “You don’t know what’s involved.”

“Maybe,” Mitch conceded. “But I know who’s involved. You were his first thought, and not just because he thought you could fix this.”

The guy was running out of patience; Mitch was running out of time. “Look, man,” the guy said. “I can be your friend here. You saved Adrian; that’s the way I’d prefer this to go.”

“I don’t need anymore friends,” Mitch replied. “I just need you to take care of your business.”

“The guys in the bay, you can be confident they’ll be dealt with--”

Mitch shook his head, cutting him off. “I mean, Adrian,” he said. “Take care of Adrian. And I don’t know, maybe let him take care of you. You’d be surprised what that can do for your life. You’ll come to a point someday when you’ll be forced to pick, you know. You’ll have to choose which thing matters most -- and which thing you’re willing to compromise.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” the guy asked, and this time when he squared his shoulders it wasn’t a gesture of intimidation. It was his way to prove himself worthy. “I know what matters.”

“Maybe a little late, though,” Mitch observed. He held up his hands in a non-threatening gesture. “I’m just saying.”

“It won’t happen again,” the guy replied in no uncertain terms. “I can promise you that. I take care of my own.”

Mitch and this guy, they didn’t have much in common.

But that much, he kind of thought they did.

“We all try,” he said with a note of commiseration. He thought about Brody up in surgery, about how those efforts didn’t always pan out. “It comes down to the choice, though. The job or the people.”

Surprisingly, this elicited a small smile. “Hell of choice, isn’t it?”

Mitch nodded back in sudden solidarity. “I know it.”

Backing up a step, the man held up his hand. “Thank you,” he said. “For saving Adrian.”

Mitch allowed him to back up another step unimpeded toward the door. “You bet,” he said. “But let’s hope that next time I don’t have to.”

The man made no reply, but he turned, giving the hallway a quick glanced as he disappeared inside of Adrian’s room without so much as a knock. There was no telling what they would talk about; what they would do. Part of Mitch was curious, and he considered following them, trying to listen in.

But why?

The job was done.

That was the thing, then.

The job was done.

Which meant that Mitch had to focus on the people.

He had been saying all day that it was about choices, about knowing what mattered most.

Mitch knew what mattered.

And he was going to make his choice.

Starting down the hallway, he crossed the door to Adrian’s room without a second glance. Instead, he headed down the next hall, back toward the waiting room where he knew he truly belonged.

-o-

Back in the waiting room, Mitch was struck by the fact that he’d left at all. They were all here, as many as they could spare from the beach, lined up on the walls, sitting in the chairs. And the cops he’d seen; they weren’t asking questions. They’d come for Brody, too. Because, sure, they all had jobs -- each and every one of them -- but that job didn’t mean anything compared to the people.

Or, maybe, the job really was the people.

Mitch had always believed that with his Baywatch is family shit, but he hadn’t known it until right here, right now. Until Brody.

Everyone knew that Brody had undergone a dramatic change since arriving at Baywatch.

He didn’t know if people could see the change in him, however.

Hell, Mitch had hardly seen it himself, but there was no denying it now. He didn’t want to deny it. He wanted to embrace it, validate it, own it.

Here, among the people he called friends, among the people who had become his family, he knew there was no better place.

Summer welcomed him back with a tentative smile. Stephanie patted him on the arm. Ronnie apologized for no apparent reason and CJ gave him a hug.

This crazy, crazy job.

This wonderful, wonderful family.

It all balanced out in the end.

-o-

In reality, the surgery didn’t take that long. If Mitch could think about the situation logically, he probably would have known that. Brody’s gunshot wound had bled profusely, but aside from blood loss, nothing had been particularly life threatening. Mitch was hesitant to call it lucky, but he knew Brody. Sometimes luck took unexpected forms.

That said, the time went faster than he expected. He filled Summer and the others in on the specifics of what he knew, which wasn’t as much as they wanted to know, but when he finished that rendition of the tale, Ellerbee showed up to take his statement.

Mitch told the story again with less emotion and more details, and he handed over the list of names and addresses from Adrian.

“Where did you get these?” Ellerbee asked, looking at it in wonder.

“Oh,” Mitch said, almost forgetting that part of the story. “Um. The witness.”

He had not promised Adrian anonymity, but if he was true to his word about a second chance, then it only seemed right.

“The guy you rescued? You talked to him?” Ellerbee pushed, looking suddenly eager.

“Sure,” Mitch said, as nonchalantly as he could. “I did save his life. A little small talk is inevitable.”

Usually, people just naturally trusted Mitch. The fact that he’d had to almost threaten Adrian to open up was not a point that needed to be made.

The look of incredulity on Ellerbee’s face told Mitch what he’d already suspected. “Dude blew out of here AMA,” he said. “I went to take his statement, but nothing. Nurse hadn’t seen him; no one had seen him. Not even his paperwork was done, so we didn’t have a name or nothing.”

“Oh,” Mitch said. “Huh. That’s weird.”

That was at least the truth. It was weird, even if Mitch knew why.

Ellerbee continued to appear vexed. “You didn’t get his name, did you?”

“No, no,” Mitch said. As a rule, he didn’t like lying to people, but this was a crazy sort of day. He was capable of all sorts of crazy shit. “He gave me that while we were in the ambulance. I lost track of him when we came inside. Brody was my priority.”

This part of the lie was harder to maintain, if only because Mitch felt embarrassed that he’d left Brody’s side at all. Sure, sitting in a waiting room didn’t actually mean shit, but Mitch had let himself get distracted by the job so he didn’t have to face the fact that he was scared. This lie was part of his promise, but it was also one of weakness. He didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t known what to do with himself, that he hadn’t known how to face the profound sense of loss he felt at even the idea of Brody dying.

This was his second chance, too, then. As much as it was Adrian’s.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ellerbee said, blinking away the tension. He was doing his job, too, but Ellerbee was a part of this family. Brody had made sure of that just as much as Mitch had. He smiled, putting his own notebook away as he held up the piece of paper Mitch gave him. “This is good stuff, though. You did good. We’ll check these out.”

As Ellerbee started to get ready to leave, Mitch offered him hand. “Thanks, man,” he said as Ellerbee took it and they shook. “It means a lot to me that you’re out there, doing the job.”

Ellerbee, despite himself, looked genuinely pleased. “It’s a crazy job, I know,” he said, allowing himself to smile. “But someone’s got to do it, right?”

“You bet,” Mitch said with a small nod and salute. “Craziest job in the world.”

Also the best.

Definitely, definitely the best.

-o-

When it was time to see Brody, now that he was coming out of sedation and was officially stable, Mitch was ready to let Summer go in first. In fact, Mitch was ready to do whatever was necessary because that was how things worked.

But they all looked at him like he was crazy.

“Of course you’re going first,” Summer said, as if that was a stupid thing to have to clarify.

Mitch furrowed his brow. “But you’re the girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling at him. “And you’re family.”

The job was crazy, yeah.

That fact, however, was crazier still.

-o-

Brody woke up.

Actually, to be honest, he didn’t remember going to sleep.

That usually meant something bad had happened. Something stupid. Usually alcohol. Lots of alcohol.

He was pretty sure he hadn’t been drinking this time, though.

Because he’d been on the job.

In fact, he’d just taken a call.

A year ago, sure, maybe he’d stop for a beer while on the job. But today?

No, no way. Brody had changed. He had grown up. Now he only got smashed on night’s off with a designated driver around. Or, you know, someone to stop him from being an asshole.

Which actually meant keeping him from getting drunk.

Honestly, he didn’t get drunk anymore.

Not since he started living with Mitch.

His eyes opened. They focused.

“Mitch?” Brody asked, because if Mitch was really sitting right there, he was going to be pissed that Brody had gotten drunk especially since he’d just taken a call and what the hell had happened since then?

Mitch, perched on the edge of a chair, raised his eyebrows. He smiled. It looked like relief.

Maybe he was relieved that Brody wasn’t drunk, too.

Or.

Brody looked around again, getting his bearings. He wasn’t on the job. This wasn’t one of the towers. It wasn’t HQ. It wasn’t even Mitch’s house.

This was….

“Uh,” he said, trying to sit up a little bit. Fire erupted throughout his body and he winced, falling back down to the bed with a groan. “Why am I in a hospital?”

Mitch laughed in that way that things were funny when they weren’t funny at all. “You don’t remember?”

“Well, I remember taking a call,” Brody said. He had the sense not to try to sit up this time, and he looked down at himself experimentally. His chest was heavily bandaged, gauze wrapped tightly around his shoulder. “Like, some rescue. Five miles out. And there were these dudes and they were trying to kill this guy.”

It all came back to him in a rush. Brody’s eyes widened as he looked back up at Mitch. “Shit, they shot me,” he said, and he could hear his heart skipping a beat on the heart monitor. “They shot me?”

Mitch nodded. “Through the shoulder, didn’t hit anything vital,” he said. “You were lucky.”

Brody looked down again, this time in a bit of awe. “Shit,” he said.

“And you saved that guy’s life, by the way,” Mitch said. “I had to use CPR to bring him back, but he’s fine, thanks to you. Not that I want you to think that this is how it’s supposed to be.”

Brody scoffed, but mostly in agreement as he still fumbled to process this turn of events that should have seemed far more unlikely than they did. He looked around at the medical equipment again, this time in wonder. “You told me that lifeguards getting shot was a one-time thing.”

Mitch rolled his eyes, allowing himself to sit back a little. “It was supposed to be,” he said. “I was supposed to take that bullet for the team -- literally and metaphorically.”

Yeah, Brody didn’t know what the hell a metaphor actually was, but he figured that meant that Brody wasn’t supposed to go off and get himself shot regularly. As far as rules went, Brody liked that one. Except he couldn’t really find a way around it. Feeling mildly vexed, he frowned. “I didn’t really want to get shot.”

“Well, I figured that,” Mitch said. “But what were you thinking? Going off on the call like that? Five miles out with no backup?”

“You said you were coming,” Brody remembered.

“I told you to wait,” Mitch reminded him.

Brody actually did remember that now. Mitch had sounded kind of hesitant and, like, he had talked about waiting and backup but Brody shook his head. “But you told me, when I first joined Baywatch, that this was more than a job. You had me chasing down Leeds when she tried to kill me, like, twice. I was with you when you got shot. What was I supposed to learn from that?”

The look on Mitch’s face was so incredulous that it might have been comical if Brody had understood the reason for it. “You were supposed to learn that it’s really shitty to stand there and watch someone you care about almost die,” he said. “You were supposed to realize that maybe sometimes it’s better to wait when you can.”

Brody wrinkled his brow. There was no way that was the lesson from the Leeds investigation. He shook his head, suddenly adamant. “But you told me that’s not what we do as lifeguards. The job, Mitch. We’re lifeguards.”

Mitch sighed, this time rolling his eyes. “Well, I’m glad you finally got that bit down,” he said. “But did you forget the part where we’re family, too? Shit, family first? I mean, damn it, Brody, when I got out there, saw you bleeding all over the place…”

He trailed off, shaking his head.

Brody found himself too dumbstruck to speak.

Mitch drew a breath to continue. “If something had happened to you…,” he said and he shrugged. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

Brody sat up again, but this time he couldn’t feel the pull in his shoulder. Not when his mind was reeling. Shit, his mind was more than reeling. His mind was positively blown. “But the job…”

Mitch almost looked resigned as he said it, almost like he was realizing it for the first time, too. “Isn’t always the most important thing.”

That didn’t make sense.

That didn’t make any sense.

Because this whole year.

All of Mitch’s lessons.

Brody shook his head, not sure what he was supposed to conclude from this. “But that’s not what you wanted me to learn.”

Mitch sighed. “I know,” he said. “But maybe it’s what we both needed to learn.”

That was something.

That was everything.

For a long moment, Brody could only stare. He’d been shot; he’d probably almost died; and all of that seemed normal to him.

What seemed crazy--

Like, well and truly crazy--

Was this.

Right here.

Mitch Buchannon and Matt Brody, learning the same lesson.

Together.

“That’s crazy,” Brody managed to say finally, when he was able to use words again.

Mitch looked like he agreed. “Yeah,” he said. He cocked his head with an air of inevitability. “So?”

Brody was starting to grin now because he’d been shot and he was in a hospital and Mitch was there and yeah.

Yeah.

“So,” he said with a nod of his head. “It sounds just about right.”