Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction based on the television series, Emergency!.  It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of MARK VII LIMITED, Universal Studio or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters and settings.  I don't own the characters. Only using them for a short time and will return them in relatively the same shape as when borrowed.

 

A huge thanks to Phyllis for the beta.  As always, any errors or inconsistencies are of my doing and do not in any way reflect on anyone assisting me.

 

 

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Flicker of Doubt

 

By krh

 

 

 

The sound of the Rescue Squad based at Station 51 returning broke the concentration of Captain Hank Stanley.  Glancing up at the clock above his desk, he mentally noted that it had been well over three hours since his two paramedics had been called out to assist Engine 110 at a motor vehicle accident.  ‘Must have been a bad one’, he thought, standing and stretching.  

 

As the tall lanky man took a few steps towards the bay where the vehicles were parked to check on his men, the sound of a squad door being slammed shut and angry voices caused him to go on alert.

 

“Roy…,” one snapped, aggravation evident in his tone.

 

“I SAID DROP IT,” was roared back, the strident tone of the words echoing off the concrete and brick around the two men. 

 

By the time Stanley reached the apparatus room, the men in question were nowhere in sight.  Moving quickly to the doorway of the day room, he paused inside the room and watched quietly.

 

Roy Desoto, the senior paramedic of the squad, was yanking cupboard doors and drawers, slamming various pots and cooking utensils onto the countertop and stove.   Behind him, his partner, John Gage stood with his hands on his hips watching him.  Tension radiated from both men. 

 

Glancing around the room, Stanley saw that the other three firemen who worked on the shift were frozen in place, their card game forgotten.  Roy was usually the quiet, level headed one of the pair.  To have him acting in such a way both scared and confused them.

 

“Look,” Gage tried again, running a hand through his hair, the move echoing the frustration in his word.  After pausing a movement, he continued, his voice low and level in an effort to try to calm and reach his friend.  “We don’t know what happened.” 

 

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Roy snapped back, spinning toward the younger man and advancing on him to jab a finger in Johnny’s chest to emphasize his point.  “I screwed up, okay.  I screwed up and a kid is dead.”  

 

A sudden intake of breath permeated Roy’s awareness.   Looking behind Johnny, he realized for the first time that the two were not alone.   “Damn it,” he hissed, turning back and tossing the wooden spoon he had in his hand onto the counter.  The last thing he needed was for the others to start on him also.

 

Pursing his lips, Hank sighed.  He seriously doubted that Roy had messed up enough to actually have caused a death.  If he had, Hank had no doubt he would have gotten a call from 110 or the hospital.  Besides, Johnny’s response to Roy’s behavior confirmed that was not the case.  Still, Roy’s actions said he believed he had.  Either way, it was going to be a rough couple of hours. 

 

Moving further into the room, he laid a hand briefly on Johnny’s shoulder as he moved pass.  The gesture served to offer support and tell the younger man to stay where he was. 

 

Stopping behind Roy who was leaning against the counter with his head lowered, Hank squared his shoulders for the possible fight ahead.  “Roy, why don’t you go outside for a little while and cool off,” he said evenly. 

 

When Roy glanced back at him, Hank could see the torment evident in the blue eyes.   Whatever had happened, Stanley knew it had shook Desoto’s confidence to the core.   “Go on,” he urged, squeezing Roy’s arm.  “I’ll talk to you in a little bit.”

 

Waiting until the door leading to the back parking lot swung shut, Hank turned to look at Johnny. “You wanna tell me what the hell happened to start all of this?” he asked uneasily.  

 

“I don’t know, Cap.”  Blowing out a huge breath, John Gage ran a tired hand over his face.  He was really worried about his friend and partner.  Seeing expectant eyes watching him, he dropped his arm.   “It was a minor traffic accident.  The driver, a 19 year old kid, hit a parked car to avoid a child that had run in front of him.  He had a superficial cut on his arm and a bump on his nose,” Johnny explained, his eyes dropping to the floor as he racked his brain to figure it all out himself. 

 

“Okay,” Stanley said, “then what?” he asked pulling a chair out and sitting down. There was no sense trying to take it into his office at this point.  It would be better to have it all out in the open where everyone knew what happened.

 

“Roy treated the driver while I checked over the little girl.  She didn’t have a scratch on her, just scared.  I turned her over to Scotty so he could take her home.”  

 

Hank nodded, knowing that was normal procedure.  Scotty was one of the police officers who frequently assisted the station at fires.   It wouldn’t be unusual for him to have been on scene nor for Johnny to have turned the child over to him.   Hank shook out of his reverie as Johnny continued.

 

“I went over to see if Roy needed anything.  He was putting stuff back into the drug box and said no.  Kevin, the driver, seemed okay.  He was talking, animated, you know, telling Roy about all the work he had done on the car,” Johnny said, sinking into a chair.  “Roy was relaxed, smiling, enjoying what the kid was saying and then Kevin said he had a picture of what the car looked like before he fixed it up.  He said he’d get it and got back into the car.  I grabbed the biophone and drug box and told Roy I’d put us available.  I had just opened the compartment doors on the Squad when Roy yelled for me.”  

 

“I looked over and Roy was easing Kevin to the ground.  The kid was in full arrest.”  Raising his eyes to meet the Captain’s, John continued.  “We tried for over 45 minutes, but we couldn’t get him back.”  Shaking his head and shifting at the memory, John swallowed hard.  “Bracket said that with the way it happened, there had to been something seriously wrong with the kid before the accident.  We won’t know for sure though until the autopsy is back,” he added softly. 

 

“And Roy’s doubting that?  He thinks he missed some injury or something?” Stanley surmised.

 

“He won’t listen to reason,” Johnny exclaimed, shoving himself upright in agitation.  “The kid’s vitals were normal, he didn’t have any broken bones, no extensive bleeding, no tenderness in his chest or head… nothing to indicate there was anything seriously wrong with him.  Hell, he was only going about 20 when he hit the car to begin with.” 

 

“Man, that’s rough,” Chet Kelly murmured from across the table.  “But Roy can’t seriously think he caused the kid’s death.  I mean….”

 

“Oh, he can and he does,” John interjected. 

 

“No way,” Chet announced shaking his head.  “He’s too careful.”  Across the table from him, Mike Stoker nodded his head in agreement.

 

“I’m with Chet on that,” Marco Lopez proclaimed.  “Roy’s the best there is,” he added, only afterward realizing who he was talking to.  “Sorry, Johnny.”  

 

Waving it off, Johnny nodded.  “I agree wholeheartedly.   Now, if someone would like to tell me how to get it through to that…” gesturing toward the back parking lot, “blockhead out there, we’d all be a lot better off.”

 

The sound of the telephone ringing caused all of the men to jump.   Mike Stoker being the closest to the phone, answered it.  “L.A. County Fire Department, Station 51, Engineer Stoker speaking.”  Listening for a moment, he continued.  “Sure, one moment.”  Putting the phone on hold, Mike turned.

 

“Cap, it’s Doctor Brackett.   He wants to speak to Roy.  Want me to go get him?”

 

“I’ll get him, Cap,” Johnny said, holding out a hand to stop the older man.   “If he’s gonna take a swing at somebody for getting close, better me than you or Mike,” he added dryly.

 

As John went out the door, Stanley blew out a sigh and looked at his other men.  Seeing helplessness and concern etched in their features, Hank stood up.   “Mike, why don’t you start frying up that hamburger Roy was gonna use to make dinner with.  We’ll have sloppy joes or something like that.  Marco, Chet, you guys help Mike out, okay?”   Regardless of what else was happening, he had to keep the station and its men moving and prepared in case a call came in. 

 

“Sure Cap,” Mike said, moving to get the hamburger, happy to have something else to focus on.  Marco began gathering the cards off the table while Chet headed towards the kitchen area.  “What can I do, Mike?” he asked.

 

As Mike reached into the refrigerator for the meat, the outer door swung open.  A tense, but silent Roy entered, followed by Johnny.  

 

Not looking at any of the other men as he passed through the kitchen, Roy picked up the phone. “Desoto,” he murmured quietly.

 

Behind Roy, Johnny stopped and gave Cap a silent shake of the head to indicate that Roy was not doing any better.   Shamelessly, he listened into the conversation. 

 

“Uh ha….   No, I didn’t….  That’s a shame… No.  No, I don’t think that’s a good idea to talk to her...:”

 

Johnny could see Roy grimace before resting his elbow on the shelf below the phone and pinching the bridge of his nose.   

 

“Yes, I’m here….  I’m very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Mitchell.”

 

Johnny started at the name and looked quickly at Stanley.  Seeing a questioning look in the Captain’s eyes, Johnny mouthed the words “victim’s family” to him. 

 

“He… he seemed like a bright, young man,” Roy said, his voice catching slightly as he spoke.   “Yes, ma’am, he talked a lot about that.” 

 

Johnny pursed his lips and moved a little closer to Roy, into a position where he could see the older man’s face.   He saw that Roy had his eyes closed and his face was ashen.  Looking closer, John could see a tremor in his partner’s shoulders.

 

Silence descended for a few moments save for the sound of Roy shuffling uncomfortably before he said, his voice husky, “yes, ma’am, thank you for calling.  And again, I’m sorry for your loss…  yes, ma’am… goodbye.”

 

Slowly Roy hung up the phone before resting his forehead on the wall above it. 

 

“Roy?”  Johnny queried, concerned by the physical reaction the phone call had caused in the man.   “What did Mrs. Mitchell say?”  Darting a quick look at the others, John confirmed they were just as concerned by Roy’s actions  “Roy,” he said, touching his arm.   “She doesn’t blame you, does she?” 

 

Standing up but not taking his eyes off of the telephone, Roy cleared his throat and shook his head.   “No…. She said I….” he started, only to pause again. 

 

“Roy, you need to sit down?” Hank asked, moving up behind the younger man.

 

Shaking his head again, Roy declined.  Swallowing hard, he tried to continue.   “About a year ago, Kevin was diagnosed with an inoperable aortic aneurysm.  She and her husband knew that he could die very quickly at any time.”    

 

Johnny pursed his lips and shook his head slowly at the tragedy of it all.  It made sense to him now how a seemingly healthy young man could be alive and talking one moment and dead the next. 

 

“She…”

 

Johnny’s attention was brought back to Roy.  

 

“She wanted to thank me for being with her son when he died,” Roy said softly.  “They were afraid he would be by himself when it happened.”  For the first time, he dared a glance at his partner standing beside him.   Blue eyes, wet with unshed tears, met somber brown ones.  

 

After a moment of silent communication between himself and his partner, Roy let go of the receiver.  “I’m gonna go wash up,” he murmured before moving towards the door. 

 

“Yeah, okay, pal,” Hank agreed, patting Roy on the shoulder before he left. 

 

After he walked out of the room, the only sounds that remained were of the men resuming their duties of cooking and setting the table.

 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Setting down the coffee he had been drinking, John looked at his watch to see how much time had passed since Roy had left the kitchen.  Deciding that ten minutes was long enough, he pushed himself upright.  “I’m gonna go check on, Roy,” he told his captain who had been sitting with him. 

 

None of the men in the dayroom had spoken since the phone call, save for an occasional request to hand over an item needed to continue the chore they were working on.  It was hard on all of them when one of them was in pain.  It didn’t matter if that pain was physical or emotional in nature.

 

Filling up another cup with coffee, Johnny headed across the bay where the vehicles were parked and stopped outside of the locker room.  Looking through the small window in the door, he saw that Roy was in his tee shirt, bent over the sink splashing his face.

 

Stepping inside, John set the coffee cup on the bench and grabbed a clean towel from the linen stack.  Perching himself on the sink beside Roy, he waited silently until Roy was done. 

 

When Roy finally raised his head, Johnny held out the towel to him.  “Was beginning to think you were trying to drown yourself there,” Gage said lightly, holding his breath after he said it.  Roy’s reaction to this overture would tell the younger man a lot about the older man’s mental state. 

 

“Wishful thinking there?” Roy asked dryly, wiping his face with the towel.   Looking at Johnny in the mirror with a slight grin on his face, he spotted the cup of coffee on the bench.   “That for me?” he asked tipping his head toward the bench.

 

“Last one in the pot,” Johnny answered.   “Thought you could use it more than me.”

 

Easing down on the bench, Roy took a long drink.  “Appreciate it.”  Looking into the amber liquid, he frowned.  “Remember when you had to go tell Pam Burke that Drew didn’t make it?” Roy asked quietly after several moments.

 

“Yeah,” Johnny murmured, the memory of that painful day jumped unbidden into his mind.   Looking back at Roy, he shifted.  “Why?”

 

“You said you wished I’d been in your place.” 

 

John nodded, ducking his head.   “A weakness of character, I said,” he added, watching a spot on the floor.  Glancing up, he added, “You said it meant I was human.” 

 

 “I didn’t want to be the one to talk to Kevin’s mom back there,” he said, nodding toward the door leading to the other side of the building.   “Wished it was you,” he said, darting a brief apologetic glance toward Johnny before diverting his eyes back to the cup in his hand.  A small, sad smile appeared briefly on Roy’s face.   “Guess that means I’m human, too.” 

 

Expectant eyes rose to watch the older man.  Something in the way Roy had just spoke caught John’s attention.   “And?”

 

“And humans make mistakes,” Roy said, a sad shadow passing again over his features.  Drawing a shaking breath, Roy shook himself as if to bolster himself before he continued.   “But I got lucky this time,” he added quietly.

 

Frowning Gage, shook his head.  “I don’t follow.”

 

“I didn’t miss an injury,” Roy clarified, swirling the coffee in the cup and watching it.  

 

“Roy, you’re a good paramedic,” Johnny began, moving to sit down next to Roy.  “Hell, Marco said a little bit ago that you were the best.”  John watched as Roy shifted, uncomfortable with the compliment.  “I agreed with him,” he added matter of factly.  

 

Roy threw a brief, grateful smile at the younger man before again settling his eyes back on the liquid in the cup.  “Yeah, I know we’re both good at what we do,” he said softly, “but….”  Roy paused not sure how to explain what he was feeling.  

 

Seeming to make up his mind, Roy looked at Johnny.  “You know how it is.  You pull up at a scene and immediately your mind is working, determining what injuries the victims might have; how you’re gonna get to them; how dangerous it is, stuff like that.”

 

“Yeah,” Johnny agreed hesitantly, not sure where Roy was going with his line of thought. 

 

“Let’s face it, in the first three minutes of being on a scene, we’ve pretty much made up our mind how badly someone is injured,” Desoto stated flatly, swallowing the last of the coffee in the cup. 

 

Beginning to see where Roy’s thoughts were heading, Johnny took a leap.  “And you surmised when we pulled up and saw basically a crumpled fender, you figured it was pretty much a case of overkill on 110’s part to call us in.”

 

Nodding Roy added, “And that this kid couldn’t possibly have more than a scratch on him.”

 

“But you still did your job and checked him out… right?” John asked, again unsure of what Roy was thinking. 

 

“Did I?” Roy countered.  Seeing the confusion on John’s face, he continued.  “Sure, I took his pulse, checked his head, patched up his arm, but,” Roy ran a hand through his damp hair, uncomfortable with what he was about to say. 

 

Turning to look John in the eye, Roy continued “Can you honestly tell me that you make the same assessment on someone who’s been in an accident like Kevin’s versus someone who’s been in a more serious accident?”

 

Frowning Johnny thought a moment before breaking eye contact.  “No,” he finally admitted. 

 

“I don’t either,” Roy agreed.  “Even though we know that a lot of serious injuries and fatal accidents happen with drivers going under 35 miles per hour, we don’t do it.” Roy dropped his eyes back to the cup in his hand.  “And at some point, let’s face it, we’re gonna miss something serious.”  Standing up, he set the cup down and picked up his uniform. 

 

Seriously contemplating what his partner had just said, Johnny sighed.  “Or think we’ve missed something and kick ourselves because of it.” 

 

“Yeah,” Roy acknowledged, shaking off the lingering flickers of doubt that still resided in the back of his mind.  

 

 “So,” Johnny said, standing up and meeting his partner’s eyes in a solemn vow, “we make sure it doesn’t happen.” 

 

“Yeah, easier said than done – on all accounts,” Roy commented dryly, tucking his shirt into his pants.  Still, he appreciated John’s commitment.

 

The opening of the locker room door brought both men’s attention to the newcomer.

 

“Roy, Cap wants you to come and eat some supper,” Mike said, poking his head into the room.

 

“Okay, Mike.  I’ll be there in a minute,” Roy acknowledged.  Picking up the empty coffee cup, Roy started to move, but paused.  “Johnny,” he said, catching the younger man by the arm to stop his progress, “thanks.” 

 

Shrugging off the comment, Johnny tipped his head towards the door.  “So you think Cap’s gonna let me eat too?” Rubbing his stomach, he added, “I’m starved.” 

 

“Well, if he doesn’t, I’ll toss you a bite or two,” Roy soothed, moving towards the dayroom with his partner and friend. 

 

The end

9/09

 

 

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