"You know, I took this walk with Sarah two times. She had c-sections both times with the girls."

Angie smiled, and put her hand on his shoulder; "Thanks so much Francis for being here. You know I want to find out as much as I can about Rollie and what happened to him. Is Mira saying much about that and where is Michael?

Francis stopped and looked down at her; "You don’t know? Angie, Michael was killed getting Rollie out of that place."

Angie’s eyes blinked as she opened her mouth and the shock sank in; "and Mira is here? But? They have his body?"

"No, no body yet. There was such an explosion and fire and current draw from it, they figured that Michael’s body was pulled back down under, toward the Island."

"I don’t believe it, any of it, yet! This is too bizarre, Francis. Why didn’t Michael rescue Rollie earlier?"

"Mira knows but she isn’t saying right now. I guess, you’d better ask her that."

"I will…because I don’t understand Rollie’s condition and Francis, he’s blind!" Angie blurted out, her control gone as she started to cry. Seeing him hold their son, unable to see him and their reunion, unable to see her, it had been so distressful. She had been so good at appearing that it hadn’t affected her but it had.

Francis held her in his arms, trying to console her; "hey, you have to get better, feed that son of yours and let Rollie find his way through all of this. Rollie is a very strong guy! If anyone can jump back from this kind of ordeal, it’s Rollie."

"Oh Francis, you know he has another side he doesn’t let people know about. It’s pretty tender and soft, you know?" She wiped her tears as he chuckled and she looked at him strangely.

"You don’t think I know that, jeez Angie! He had his heart on his sleeve for years with how he cared about you!"

Angie just looked down, looking at her suddenly wet chest. She touched it slightly as Francis slightly reddened.

"Oh no! I didn’t get your suit all…?"

"Hey, don’t worry about it, been there and had it done to me before," he replied, as Sarah walked up and laughed at him.

"Angie! I think you need to express some milk!" Sarah remarked.

"Yeah, so come show me, cause I’m a novice here," she replied, bewildered and embarrassed.

Mira looked at Francis, raising one eyebrow; "You look good, Francis, really!"

Francis scoffed at her but then seriously told her; "She asked about Michael. I told her what happened at the end, but she has a whole lot of questions about the entire thing. I don’t know if you want to tell her or what?"

Mira looked at him with a distant gaze, then looked down and shook her head; "Let Rollie tell her first what happened to him in his own words, we can fill in later, okay?"

"Yeah…" he replied and they walked around the corridors while Sarah helped Angie with her dilemma.

Rollie was fit to be tied. He had submitted to the tests, the probing and the drawing of blood. He had given urine samples and stool samples so he was correct in telling Angie that he had definitely been thoroughly probed. In his room, he was started on a high protein diet, along with supplemental amino acids given intravenously. He knew what was coming next and he dreaded it. He wanted to be with Angie and their son.

He thought about a name, she could name him after her father, definitely not his…as he smiled, rolling names off with his last name afterwards. His son was something he wanted to see so badly. The eye specialist had not arrived yet as well and he got up out of the bed, pulling his IV pole and pacing back and forth like a caged animal. He wanted out, his anxiety heightened as he waited.

"Mr. Tyler? Rollie Tyler?" asked a voice, calm and succinctly, breaking the monotony in the room and the darkness.

"Yeah? You the eye doc?" Rollie asked, hopefully.

"No, I am a doctor but not the ophthalmologist," the man’s voice replied, evenly.

"Oh…the shrink! I wondered when you would be coming!" Rollie replied, sarcastically.

"And see, you don’t have to wonder anymore, do you?" he replied, his voice warming.

"So, tell me your credits, doc and I’ll tell you mine," Rollie said, feeling his way back to his bed and sitting on the edge. He could hear the doctor sit in the bedside chair and he imagined a bearded man in his fifties, with his notepad and quizzical look to his face.

"Want to touch my face?" the doctor asked as Rollie made a face.

"What? Are you kidding? What kind of test is this?" Rollie retorted, folding his arms across his chest.

"No test, thought you might like to feel what I look like, there’s no beard, if you really want to know," the psychiatrist went on, with a chuckle.

Rollie made a face and relaxed a little. The guy sounded almost human, but he was still distrustful.

"As far as my credits, I have practiced here in New York for some time. Before that, I did work with some special government agencies with some very high profile work. Before that, I did extensive work with returning POW’s from Vietnam and then, in Tehran."

Rollie whistled and the psychiatrist chuckled again; "I see you are being quite resistive at this point to talking."

"You could say that," Rollie replied, his tone angry.

"No problem. I can come back tomorrow. Oh, be thinking why tonight, when you go to sleep, you will turn on every light in this room and turn you bedside lamp toward your face, taking the shade off; even though you can’t see any of them." He stood up and started to leave as Rollie’s mouth fell open, for the idea was exactly what he had planned to do. How had he known?

"Be seeing you, Rollie," he added and walked out of the room. The door shut softly and Rollie nervously put a hand to his forehead, his mind starting to reel with the hurt and humiliation, the seclusion and the pain he had endured. Why had they done this to him? His anger was so strong as he felt for the lamp on the bedside table and with a sweeping motion, knocked it off the table, sending it shattering to the floor.

Rollie was taken down to Angie’s room later, his joy at being with her so more therapeutic than any shrink could ever be, he told himself. She warmly kissed him as Sarah stepped out, excusing herself.

"Bye Sarah, and thanks," Rollie told her as she left.

"So…what have you been up to?" Rollie asked her, sitting on her bed, stroking her cheek.

"Ah, actually, having one of the most excruciating experiences of my life!" Angie exclaimed, putting the pump down and leaning back on the bed. Her breasts had hurt so badly as she expressed the milk and the sharp shooting pains were still giving her fits as she looked over at the milk in the bottle provided.

"What’s that?" he asked as she took his hand and placed it on her breast. He felt the wetness and his hand jumped slightly.

"Being raised by men, I didn’t exactly get to see this wonderful experience," she said, her voice sounding depressed.

"I wish I could see you and them," he replied, grinning as she rolled her eyes.

"Well, I’ve been told that ‘they’ will be in action tomorrow for real with ‘little man’. So, I hope you will join me for that experience," she replied, gritting her teeth nervously.

Rollie smiled, turning his head slightly; "you’ve got a name, right Ange?"

"Uh, well…I have gone over so many in my mind and I know it won’t be Dingo or Mangela. I had thought about my father’s name but…"

"It’s okay with me if you want to name him Manny."

"No, he’s not a Manny, Rol. I look at him and I just don’t see him with that name."

"There’s always Rick- hey, how about that one?" Rollie thought about his friend Rick and smiled.

"Uh- no…little Ricky, no way. Besides, Rick was so in to trying to get in my pants, nope!"

"What? News to me!" Rollie replied, frowning, "you want to tell me something, here."

"Nope, nothing you want to hear, sorta like you and Lucinda, okay?"

"One day, one day you will clarify that remark, you hear?"

"One day, but for now, I have been thinking what to name our son and what would you think about Aidan?"

"Aidan?" Rollie repeated the name in his mind; "Aidan Tyler…it has a ring to it."

"You know, it means from the old Celtic- ‘little fire’ and my goodness, that’s what he’s been in my belly so I just thought, never mind. It’s stupid, forget it. This is all stressing me out…so much responsibility for something that gets carried around with you for the rest of your life!"

"Hey…Angie, stop," Rollie told her as he reached out for her and she put her face in the crook of his shoulder, burying it as he stroked her hair and felt her warmth against him, "I like Aidan…you’re his mum so that’s that!"

"Really? You like it?" she asked, looking up and seeing him stare out beyond her.

"Yeah, sounds like a strong name and that’s what we Tyler’s are!"

"Rol, I know you’re not ready to talk to me yet about everything that happened to you, but I have to know something…"

She felt him stiffen slightly as she put her hand to his heart and he relaxed then as she kissed his chest and then his mouth as the feel of her lips needed no sight to remember and to cherish.

"I’ll tell you anything…" he told her, his heart skipping a beat.

"Did you ever, well, this is silly but…"

"I heard you, Angie. God, how I longed to hear you talk to me…"

"Oh,…you were there for me too…" she said, her eyes blinking back tears.

"It saved me, I want you to know that, you and the baby’s heart. I kept hearing Mangela tell me about the heart being the soul…"

"The soul being the heart…" Angie finished his sentence and they both smiled.

"Got to give my mate a call!" Rollie told her, looking up with sightless eyes to the ceiling.

The door opened to Angie’s room, and a man entered carrying a case. Angie could see he looked perturbed.

"Yes?" she asked, as Rollie sat up and listened carefully.

"I assume I have finally found the whereabouts of Rollie Tyler?" he asked, looking over to Rollie.

"Yes, I’m Rollie Tyler," Rollie answered, frowning slightly.

"Well, good! I didn’t fly in all the way from Germany just to play hide and go seek with you in a hospital, yes?" he asked, his voice with a slight German accent.

"You are?" Angie asked, curiously.

"Doctor Brabon is my name and I am here to look at Mr. Tyler’s eyes."

Angie smiled as Rollie only stiffened more. The truth was coming and he hadn’t prepared to get it in this room with Angie. He couldn’t deal with what he knew was coming.

"Look Doc, can we go back to my room and talk about this?" Rollie asked, getting up from the bed, feeling his way around the bed as Angie started to protest.

"Rollie? No!" she pleaded, for she wanted to hear what this doctor was going to find.

"Enough! No squabbles, I am not one for hearing all this emotion so we will stay here, and I will examine you right here!" Dr. Brabon replied sharply.

Angie looked shocked and Rollie could have sworn he clicked his heels together.

Sitting in a chair, a nurse entered to assist as Dr. Brabon pull out his case and began sorting his instruments and gadgets. Rollie sat there, a prisoner to the insolent specialist as he heard the man sighing and mumbling as he set up his examination.

"Now, a few questions and you will answer them correctly!" The doctor told Rollie who jerked in the chair, the demand and the fact that he was almost confrontational struck a familiar chord in his mind as he began to perspire and breathe heavily.

"Dr. Brabon, my husband has been through a lot, we don’t need your inquisition skills here!" Angie exclaimed, climbing out of her bed and groaning as she tried to stand up.

"And you, young woman should get back in your bed and think about how many nappies you will be cleaning in the near future," snapped the Doctor back to her.

Rollie suddenly put his hand across Brabon’s larynx, gripping it tightly as Angie looked on in shock. She had never seen him ever do something like that.

"Rollie, stop!" Angie cried out, rising again as the Doctor made a gesture with his hand to her to stay back.

"How do it feel in that box, Mr. Tyler? How did the light first start? Was it continuous or intermittent?" Brabon managed to force out of his mouth as Rollie’s hand released him suddenly and the Doctor touched his throat, clearing it as he breathed a sigh of relief.

Angie watched, horrified but amazed. What kind of specialist was this doctor, really?

"It was continuous…"

"Color or not?"

"White, pure white…"

"When did you first perceive no sight after exposure, can you give me a time estimate?"

"Dunno, maybe two days?"

"Good!" grunted Brabon and smiled.

"Did they tell you it would be permanent after 32 hours?"

"Yes…"

"Excellent!" he responded as Angie watched the exchange in mortified disbelief.

The Doctor seemed to interrogate Rollie and he was responded with remembered memories of his captivity that he had not brought up to anyone.

"Now, I will look into your eyes with a special probe. It will not be painful but you will feel pressure on your eyeball, understand?"

"Yes."

"We proceed then," Brabon replied and he brought up a silver, thin instrument reminding Angie of a pen that he rested on Rollie’s cornea.

"You see, Mrs. Tyler, your husband has what we call Apoptosis- it is a programmed cell death being stimulated by exposure to pure light. The photoreceptor cells ‘die’ and damage the retina. What is fascinating is that this condition, once exposed to the light for just a certain time will result in a triggered process that will continue in the death of the cells even after the light has been removed."

While he talked, he examined, nose to nose with Rollie as he moved his mouth making faces as he studied what he saw. Angie was clueless as to what he had just told her but she did understand him to say that the condition was irreversible.

"Well, that concludes the exam…" Brabon replied, putting the probe down and shaking his head.

"You were exposed beyond 35 hours…" Brabon commented as Rollie lowered his face, knowing already the final diagnosis.

"Yes…"

"Well, I am through here. I will see myself out," Brabon replied, standing up from his stool as the nurse even looked alarmed.

"Wait! What about his eyes, can something be done?" Angie asked, surprised at his abrupt manner.

Dr. Brabon looked at the petite woman who questioned him like a pitbull and then some. He looked at her husband, having read the entire circumstances in Rollie’s chart. He would report his findings to his referral source only.

"Goodnight," he replied, and started to turn his back on them to leave.

"Who asked you here? Who asked you to come and see Rollie Tyler?" Angie asked him anyway, for she wasn’t going to take his insolence any longer.

He turned around and looked at her, seeing that she was in pain and in postpartum condition;

"A David Grant called me, old acquaintances, actually…" Brabon replied, and started to go through the door, "I was his ‘D’, actually." He left then; leaving Angie mystified by his words and Rollie smiling strangely.