Hindsight is Always 20/20

Part 2

 

 

Hank Stanley pulled his car into Roy’s driveway. Joanne had left the light on over the door, anticipating her husband’s late return. Roy had been quiet on the drive home, but politely responded to any conversation started by his captain. “Well, Roy, get some sleep. You’re looking pretty worn out.”

“I will, Cap, and thanks for the ride.” Roy paused as he looked at his own car parked in the driveway. “How’d my car get here?” He had left it on that dirt road when he jumped into the ambulance with Johnny, not really giving his car any thought at the time.

“Chet and Marco went and got it for you. Keys are under the floormat.”

“I’ll have to thank them tomorrow. Thanks for the ride, Cap.” Roy climbed out of the car and walked slowly towards the door, giving the captain one last wave as he pulled out of the driveway and left.

Despite the weariness he felt, Roy knew he would not sleep. His stomach churned and the anger he had been trying to hold at bay welled up inside him. His best friend, the kindest person he’d ever met in his life, the man that held a place in Roy’s heart as a brother he never had, lay in the hospital from severe injuries he received from a boy Johnny was only trying to help. If Johnny survived the infection the doctors were sure he faced, there were still months of painful recovery time ahead. He would need help with all the work at his ranch until he could return to Station 51.

Regardless of the late hour, Roy walked to his car and got in. As he started the engine and backed out of his driveway, he was determined to do what he could to find Brad Russell. The police hadn’t been able to locate him yet, but Roy decided that finding Brad’s parents and trying to reason with them might help the situation somehow. He only knew he had to do something. Stopping at the diner might be a good place to start.

~~~

Despite the late hour, the small diner was busy with a surprising number of customers. Roy knew this was the only 24 hour restaurant open for miles, so that brought in quite a variety of patrons. He sat on a stool at the counter, and it was only a couple of minutes before a heavyset man in a stained apron and dirty hat grabbed the coffee pot and poured Roy some coffee without being asked.

“Thanks. Busy night?” Roy stirred in some sugar.

“Not especially. We always get the night owls. There’s a billboard on the highway about five miles out that advertises us open 24 hours, so we get the travelers too. What can I get you?” The man wiped the counter, more out of habit than need as he chewed on a toothpick.

“Coffee’s fine. You worked here long?”

The man laughed- a loud hearty sound that made Roy smile. “I call it ‘slaving’ but yeah, I own the place. Name’s Deke. And before you ask, I know… why’m I working the graveyard shift?” Roy nodded. “Lost another cook. They come and go. But I’ve got the best waitresses around.” The man winked at the older waitress that passed by. Roy was certain that last part had been said for her benefit, but she rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Reason I asked is that I’m looking for someone. Brad Russell. Know him?”

Deke’s smile quickly turned to a frown. “What do you want with him?”

“I actually need to talk to his parents.” Roy was puzzled by the sudden change in demeanor.

Deke gave a snort and shook his head. “Yeah, I’d sure like to talk to them too! Brad’s father, Mac, stiffed me on a couple of bad checks.” He pointed to the cash register where two returned checks were taped, certain to embarrass the writer. “But he doesn’t have a mom. It’s just Mac and him.” The man leaned on the counter close to Roy and pulled the toothpick from his mouth. “So what’s he done now?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t really talk about it. Could you give me directions to his place?”

“Sure. But he’s probably not home. Since it’s Friday, Mac likes to go out and have a good time.”

“I’d appreciate the directions.” Roy finished his coffee and laid money along with a generous tip on the counter, which Deke scooped right up.

“Okay, Mister. All I can say is ‘be careful’. They aren’t the friendliest folks.” Deke gave Roy the directions and waved him off, shaking his head.

 

Roy pulled down the drive of Mac Russell’s home. He was surprised at how close they lived to Johnny’s ranch. A single light bulb illuminated the back porch of the small rundown house. There was a single stall garage with no door, and Roy could see that it was packed full of junk. Brush and weeds decorated the yard, along with a pile of tires. The fireman in him could not help but see all the fire hazards. He did not see any vehicles parked on the property, and he thought back to what Deke had told him about Mac Russell going out on Fridays. Chastising himself for driving out here for no good reason, he pulled out of the drive to head for home. He had gotten about a half mile down the deserted road when an old pickup passed him going in the opposite direction. Roy slowed, then on instinct, turned his car around and went back towards the Russells’ home. Sure enough, the rusty truck turned into the drive. He slowed down then pulled in behind the truck. He turned the engine off, but left the headlights on to illuminate the darkness.

Mac Russell halfway fell out of his truck, but caught himself on the door, then flung a beer bottle into the pile of tires. He pulled his sagging jeans up and muttered something under his breath then turned towards Roy. “So what do you want? You a cop?”

Roy took a good look at the man and decided this may have not been the best idea he’d ever had. Mac Russell was a big man, although heavy. He looked muscled and was definitely drunk. The paramedic had dealt with hundreds of drunks and knew how unpredictable they could be. The toughest looking men could be as docile as a lamb when drunk, but the nicest looking woman could turn into an alley cat ready to scratch your eyes out when she’d had a few too many. He quickly determined to tread lightly. “No, I’m not a cop.”

“Well, ya’ lost?”

“No, Mister Russell, I’m not lost either. My name’s Roy Desoto. I wanted to know if I could talk to you about your son, Brad.”

Mac Russell cleared his throat and spit into the brush. “What kind of business you got with Brad?”

“I don’t have any business with Brad, but a friend of mine does. I’m sure the police have talked to you about it.”

“So what? It ain’t any of your business. You sure you’re not a cop?”

“No, I’m not. I’m a fireman/paramedic with the LA County Fire Department.” Roy saw something flash across Mac’s face that looked like surprise, then anger.

“Look, Mister. I already told the cops that Brad was with me and that guy was lying and making it up that Brad did anything. What did you come here for tonight?” Mac slammed the door shut on his truck then leaned against it.

“I just thought that as a parent, you might be able to talk some sense into Brad. He really needs to turn himself in.”

Mac Russell snorted. “That ain’t gonna happen. He’s long gone. Took off when cops started asking questions about that guy that was found in the ditch.”

“And you have no idea where he might have gone? Maybe a friend’s house?”

“You know, Mister… what was your name?” Mac took a few steps towards Roy.

“Roy Desoto.”

“Well, Roooy… why are you here asking questions about Brad?”

“Because I know that Brad was the one that hurt John Gage. That was the man in the ditch today. It will be a lot easier on Brad in the long run if he turns himself in.”

“So you decided to play private detective and find him yourself?” Mac stepped back to his truck and reached through the window and pulled out a bottle of beer. He quickly twisted the cap off and took a long gulp.

“No, not at all. I just thought… look I’m a parent too. I know it’s got to be upsetting to know that your kid is in trouble with the law. I just figure that you’d have a way to find Brad, and talk some sense into him.” Roy watched the big man rub the back of his neck thoughtfully. He resisted the urge to take a few steps back when Mac walked towards him.

“Well, Roy, you know being a single parent is hard. I’ve been trying to raise that boy the best I can, but he’s just turned out to be a wild one. You know what I mean? His mother ran out on us and I try to keep a roof over his head and food in his belly, but other than that there’s nothing I can do. It’s been very hard on me.” Mac painted a suffering look on his face then forced a smile that he hoped looked sincere.

Roy nodded but noticed that the smile on Mac’s face failed to reach his eyes, which reflected only a cold hardness. “I’m sure it has. But I’m also sure he must listen to you.”

“He’s a good for nothing piece of shit is what he is!” Mac gesticulated wildly, slinging his beer bottle out and spilling some of the froth on the dirt. “I do everything for that boy! He doesn’t help out around here and just gets into trouble. I’m a working man, Roy. I work hard every day while he’s home or out wandering around. He’ll never amount to nothing. I’ve washed my hands of him.”

“Washed your hands of him? He’s still your son! If you care about him you’d try to help him! Let the courts get him a lawyer if you can’t afford one! But you can’t let him keep running!”

“I can’t very well stop him! He’s an idiot! Always has been. I always thought that the little bastard was just that – a bastard! I don’t think he’s really even mine! His mother was a cheap whore. I just took him because she didn’t want nothing to do with him. I oughta’ get a medal for all the hell he’s put me through.”

Roy had enough of this man’s sob story. The man didn’t care about his son. He grew more repulsed as Mac Russell continued to rant about the boy he had raised. “I think I’ve heard enough, Mister Russell. For some reason, I think you know a lot more than you’re telling. If you’re hiding Brad, it won’t do him any good.”

“Why you son of a bitch! You come here to my house and call me a liar?”

Roy put up his hands and took a step back. “No, that’s not why I came here. I thought you might be a sensible parent who would want to help his son do the right thing.”

“That one in the ditch was your pal?”

“Yes, he’s my partner. We work together and he’s my friend. Johnny’s in the hospital and he could die from the beating Brad gave him.”

“Now that would just be a real shame.”

Mac Russell’s hand came forward with lightning speed. In the split second before the beer bottle hit his head, Roy thought how surprised he was that the inebriated man could move so quickly. The bottle broke against the left side of Roy’s head then he felt a fist connect with his face as he fell to the ground.

“You firemen… think you’re all better than everyone else!” Mac gave Roy a kick in the ribs that made him groan and pull his knees to his chest. “That friend of yours is a god damn liar! John Gage just needed to back off and leave Brad alone. He thought he was so smart.” He landed another well placed kick in the same place on Roy’s ribcage. “Guess someone musta taught him a lesson. He ain’t no better than that piece of shit son of mine. Now maybe it’s my turn to teach you a lesson.”

Roy lay on the ground trying to catch his breath. His head buzzed as he pulled himself onto his knees waiting for the next blow to fall. Instead he heard screaming and the sound of someone running. He looked up in time to see Brad Russell tackle his father to the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust in the headlights beam.

“You call me a piece of shit? Look who’s talking, old man!” Brad turned to Roy and yelled. “You better get out of here before he gets up. Go on!” Roy nodded and pushed himself up, gasping at the pain that shot through his head. He walked unsteadily to his car, keeping a close eye on the men behind him. Brad stood over his father. “You were going to blame me for everything weren’t you? ‘Washing your hands of me’? You’re the one that almost killed the guy! You said we were just gonna scare him! I’m not taking the fall for this alone!”

Mac Russell tried to push himself up to a sitting position, but Brad pushed him back down. “Get out of here now, Mister!” He turned and directed his attention on his drunken father. “I heard everything you said to him! You think I’m not your son? Who’s the idiot now? I look just like you and you know it! And you ran mom off by beating her half to death! She had to leave before you killed her! She hated you so bad that she left without me! I hate you!” Tears of anger and frustration ran from the young man’s eyes. He looked at Roy, his eyes sharp with anger then took off running, quickly disappearing into the darkness.

Roy stumbled into his car and started it as he watched Mac Russell stand up and stagger, yelling for Brad. He put the car in reverse and left as quickly as he could. For the first time, he put a hand up to the side of his head and felt sticky wetness that ran from the cut above his ear. It was definitely a good sized laceration from the glass beer bottle. His rapidly swelling cheekbone ached from the blow and when he felt it his fingers came away with blood. Damn. I need stitches. Not exactly the way this was supposed to turn out. His ribs on the right side were sore and caused him to gasp when he took a breath. Great. How am I going to explain all this to Joanne? Pushing that concern out of his mind for the moment, he concentrated on the road and made his way to Rampart.

~~~

 

Kelly Brackett flipped his wrist over to look at the time and shook his head. 2:30 a.m. He had meant to be out of the hospital a couple of hours ago, but as so often happened, he had stayed to help when a multiple car accident stretched the ER staff’s resources. At least he did not need to be back to work until later in the afternoon. He zipped his leather jacket, walked out the ER doors and stopped to frown at the rain that seemed to have timed itself to begin right as he was starting the long walk to his car. He glanced at a car parked at an awkward angle near the ER entrance.  It wasn’t uncommon for a people to park their vehicles in haste, too concerned for a family member or friend to worry about where they parked. This car however, looked vaguely familiar and he could see the occupant slouched over the steering wheel. He hurried over, rain forgotten and looked closer. “Roy!” He yanked the door open and reached in to touch Roy on the shoulder. “Roy!”

Roy looked up at the sound of Brackett’s insistent voice. “I – I’m okay, Doc. Just resting a bit before I come inside.”

“You obviously haven’t seen yourself, Roy. Stay right there.” Kel ran back to the entrance and yelled inside the ER door, “Orderly! Get me a gurney!” Turning his attention back to Roy, he leaned inside the car. “What the hell happened? Where’s all this blood coming from?” Not really expecting an answer, the doctor felt around on Roy’s head. “You’ve got one hell of a bump here under this laceration… Orderly!” Kel’s bark made Roy wince, and the doctor twitched a silent apology as he carefully prodded Roy’s neck. “Anything hurt here? Did you lose consciousness at all?”

Roy grunted. “No and… no… well, I don’t think so… no, I definitely did not, Doc. I wasn’t in an accident. I did drive myself here.” He pushed himself back against the seat despite the doctor’s protest, strangling a gasp in his throat at the pain in his ribs caused by the sudden move. “And I don’t need a gurney!”

“Too late, Roy.” Kel moved away in order to let the approaching orderlies help Roy onto the gurney. Roy held his hand against the laceration on his head as he stepped out of the car, suddenly felt light headed and swayed unsteadily. Brackett grabbed his arm and growled, “On the stretcher!”

Too tired to argue, Roy let himself be manhandled and transported into Treatment Room 3. The adrenaline he had used to get himself to Rampart was depleted and exhaustion and dizziness swept over him as he was transferred from gurney to exam bed. He kept his eyes closed as he felt a nurse wrap a blood pressure cuff around his arm and Kelly Brackett taking his pulse. He winced when the overzealous doctor pried his eyelids open and flashed his penlight into his eyes. His shirt was cut open and he felt hands touch the tender spot over his right ribcage and he inhaled sharply. Kel grunted and Roy knew if his eyes were open he’d surely see the frowning doctor’s mouth twitching in concern.  He let himself drift while he listened to orders for x-rays and labs being barked out to the nurse. He felt the obligatory IV being started and still didn’t protest. He knew Brackett would veto any kind of argument.

“Okay, Roy. Tell me why you’re here bleeding all over my ER instead of home in bed where I thought I told you to go.” Kel leaned on the exam table and waited.

“I- I thought I’d talk to the kid’s dad. The cops haven’t found him and… I figured that maybe his parents might be helpful. All I got was a beer bottle to the head for my trouble.” Roy found it hard to meet Brackett’s stern gaze. “I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, Doc. I’ll just add this to the list.”

“Who did this to you?” Kel’s fingers probed at the laceration above Roy’s left ear.

“Mac Russell. The kid’s dad. He didn’t exactly agree with my parenting ideas.” Roy winced as the doctor palpated his swollen cheek and laceration. “Look, Doc… I need to… call Joanne. Then I need to call the police. It’s a long story.”

“I’ll take care of calling Joanne while we get some x-rays of that skull and ribs. What do you want me to tell her?”

Roy looked hopefully at his boss. “That I’ll be home in an hour?”

Kel allowed himself a chuckle. “How about I tell her you’ll be spending the night and can probably get released tomorrow afternoon if you’re lucky?”

“C’mon, Doc. I’ll rest at home, I promise.”

“And I promise you’ll rest here. I won’t hear any more arguments from you.” Kel gave his patient a meaningful stare. “And I’ll call the police and see if they can send someone here to talk to you.”

“Wait, Doc. How’s Johnny?”

“He’s resting well. His vitals are stable. There’s not much else to do but wait to see how he does tomorrow.” He held the door open as the x-ray machine was pushed inside by two technicians then left.

The nurse finished drawing blood, gave Roy a sympathetic pat then left him alone to wonder, once again, how he had managed to make such a big mess of things.

~~~

 

Kelly Brackett entered the exam room to find Roy speaking softly to a police officer. Roy’s hand was over his eyes, and judging by the slow rate of his speech, the doctor knew his patient had probably reached his limit. He stepped to the side of the exam table and nodded to the officer.

“So you have no idea where Brad Russell ran off to?” the officer asked.

There was a long pause before Roy answered. “No, I have no idea. I do know he was pretty upset after hearing the things his father said about him. And honestly… he probably saved me from getting hurt worse because he pushed his father down and told me to leave.”

“Okay, well that’s about all the questions I have now. I’ll get all this to Detective Montgomery, but in the meantime we’ll go pick up Mac Russell.”

Roy didn’t answer, but lifted his hand in a weak wave to the departing officer. His whole body ached now and his head was splitting.

“How’re you feeling, Roy?” Brackett checked his patient’s pulse after pulling Roy’s arm from his eyes.

Too tired to pull any punches, Roy let out a groan. “Pretty damn sore. My head’s splitting here, Doc.”

We’ll get you some pain meds in just a minute. Your x-ray’s look good. You do have some glass in that scalp lac so I’ll take care of that. Your ribs aren’t broken, but judging by the size of that bruise, I’m sure they might feel that way for a few days.”

“Yeah, I think so too.” Roy squinted his eyes open. “So, did you call Joanne?”

“Yes, I did.”

“How bad was it?”

Kel grinned as he checked under the gauze bandage on Roy’s cheek. “She was very worried about you. She wanted to get a sitter and rush over here. I assured her you were doing fine and told her to come by late morning.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Roy closed his eyes and let out a soft moan.

“I know, Roy. I’m going to give you some meds for the pain, which should relax you, then numb up these lacerations.”

The nurse moved the tray of supplies next to the bed then took the syringe Kel gave her and injected it into the IV port. Brackett pulled on some latex gloves and prepared the instruments he would use as he periodically watched Roy’s features slowly relax. After a few more minutes, Roy’s breathing became deep and steady as he drifted into painless slumber.

Glad that his patient wouldn’t be awake for the painful debridement and suturing, Kel stifled a yawn then settled himself on the stool and began cleaning the wound. Roy’s damn lucky that guy didn’t kill him. He was troubled that Roy would set out to approach the men that injured Johnny. But where Johnny was concerned, Roy sometimes lost all sense of what was reasonable. These two men were close friends – closer than most paramedic duos that came into his hospital. He hoped that for Roy’s sake, Johnny recovered quickly.

~~~

Roy finished his breakfast and clicked through the few television channels available. He was impatiently waiting for a doctor to show up and clear him so he could go see Johnny. He had been able to get a fairly good night sleep, except for the moments he forgot about his tender ribs and tried to shift his body to lay on his side. He had been given pain medication before breakfast and was feeling pretty good. His head still throbbed, but not near the intensity of last night.  He turned off the television then rested his head back on his pillow. He knew Joanne would be here soon enough and he closed his eyes and drifted. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the door opened. He blinked his eyes open to see Joe Early gazing at him from the foot of the bed.

“Well, Roy. I heard you came back for a visit last night.” The silver haired doctor gave a gentle smile, took his glasses out of his pocket, placed them on his nose, then opened the chart.

Roy nodded. “Yes, I hadn’t exactly planned it that way.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. But nevertheless, here you are. How are you feeling?” Joe put the chart down and stepped to the bedside.

“I’m feeling pretty good and ready to get out of here. Doc, how’s Johnny?”

“We’ll talk about him in a minute. Right now I want to see how you’re doing.”

Roy patiently submitted to Joe Early’s examination, only grunting when Joe palpated his very painful ribcage.

“That’s quite a bruise there, but nothing’s broken. Painful nonetheless, I’m sure.” Joe pulled Roy’s gown back up then used his penlight to check Roy’s pupil response. He placed it back in his pocket then removed his glasses. “Any blurred or double vision?”

“No.”

“Headache?”

“Well, yeah, some. But it’s not as bad as it was. I’m really just sore, Doc, but I want to get out of here.”

“Okay, here’s the deal. You’re not working your next shift. You’ll come back in the ER in three days and let Kel or I clear you for work. In the meantime you will rest and take care of yourself. I don’t need to tell you that you worried quite a few people.”

“I know. It’s not one of my more stellar decisions, Doc. I was just so angry about what happened to Johnny, and I didn’t want that kid getting away with it. I wasn’t really thinking it all through.”

“Fair enough. But you do know, you’ll be hearing from Dixie. She was really upset. She doesn’t take having one of her favorite paramedics injured very well, let alone both of them.”

“Then there’s Joanne.” Roy’s eyes closed and he slumped in bed. “What the hell was I thinking?”

Joe smiled and rubbed his nose. “You’re entitled to be upset, Roy. I think you just surprised us by the way you reacted. We know how important Johnny is to you, but getting yourself hurt like this would only upset him.”

“I know. How is he? Can I get out of here and see him?”

“I’ll discharge you, then you can visit, but I’ll have Joanne take you home this afternoon.” Joe sat on the side of the bed. “Johnny’s developing a fever. It’s not unexpected and it’s not very high right now – 100 degrees. He’s on antibiotics and resting fairly well.”

“Has he been awake yet?” Roy dreaded the thought of Johnny waking alone. What he had gone through was bad enough – being left for dead, lying alone all night through a severe storm.

“He’s not been fully conscious, but he does seem to be coming around.”

“Okay. Thanks, Doc.”

Joe Early gave him a smile and move towards the door. Before he could touch it, the door swung open. Joanne Desoto looked inside the room after sparing a glance and terse nod to the doctor. “Roy…”

Joe’s eyes widened a moment then he smiled at Roy and shuffled out the door.

“Roy Desoto…” Joanne’s face turned from angry to sympathetic as she came closer, finally sitting on the bed. “If you ever do something like that again…” She reached out and tentatively touched the uninjured cheek.

“I know, babe. I’m sorry.” Roy knew his face must look awful, judging by the way Joanne’s eyes wandered slowly over his features. He closed his eyes when she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

~~~

Roy and Joanne stood on the elevator waiting for it to take them to the ICU floor. Roy leaned on the railing, silently wondering if he should have taken Dixie up on the offer of the wheelchair. He did not understand why every muscle in his body ached. Joanne had helped him dress after he was unable to bend and pull his pant legs up. And when he thought that was bad enough, the ER’s head nurse came in. Dixie had thoroughly chewed him out and he had sat through it silently, unable to look her in the eye, especially when she said how disappointed she was in him for risking his life like that. She had raised her voice just enough to startle him when she said she knew they risked their lives every day that they worked, so why did he have to do it on his day off? Dixie had never had a reason to be disappointed in him and he hated to admit how much it bothered him. But she had softened her admonishment with a soft pat to his cheek then the offer of pain medication and a wheelchair before they set out for Johnny’s floor. He had accepted the medication but grumbled that he was fine and didn’t need a wheelchair. As the elevator doors opened and he looked down the long hallway, he thought how nice it would have been to be sitting in that wheelchair right now. Joanne seemed to sense his distress, because she wrapped her arm around his waist and hugged him gently, mindful of his hurting ribs.

They arrived at Johnny’s room just as a nurse was leaving. “Hi, Roy. Doctor Early said you’d be up soon. He gave strict orders that you are to be sitting during your visit.”

“Sally, I-”

“Roy, why even argue? Don’t make me call him.” She sighed and placed a hand on her hip.

Joanne smiled at the nurse. “Thank you, Sally. I’ll make sure he’s sitting.”

Sally gave Joanne a smirk and raised her eyebrow before leaving. Roy had made the mistake that most men made with Sally. Her good looks and gentle eyes marked her as a pushover, but as Roy should have remembered, Sally could round up every orderly in the hospital with just a look when the need for blood donors arose. She was a force to be reckoned with, and he suspected that she was a close second to Dixie McCall when it came to getting things done.

Joanne led him into the room then stood beside him as he took in the appearance of his friend. Not much had changed since he saw Johnny last night. Joanne pulled a chair close to the bed and he sat down gingerly, suppressing a groan. He didn’t need Joanne whisking him out just yet. Johnny’s eye was still bandaged and Roy wondered how bad it was. Joanne stepped closer and rested a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “God, Jo, I thought he was dead when I first saw him. I remember actually being surprised to find a pulse.” He reached through the bed rail to place his hand over Johnny’s. “Why? I don’t understand…”

Joanne swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew Roy did not really expect an answer. She squeezed his shoulder and shook her head. “We’ll probably never understand, honey. There are people out there with no compassion, who live life as if they’re owed something. You see them every day that you work, don’t you?”

“Yeah, we do.”

“With the job you and Johnny do, helping people, it’s hard to understand that there are people out there who don’t care. It just makes it that much more important that there are men like you and Johnny.”

Roy wondered for the thousandth time, how he had become lucky enough to marry this woman. And for the millionth time he wondered how he had been able to keep her once she found the stresses and worries of being a firefighter’s wife could be more than a lot of wives could stand. Roy knew of far too many of his counterparts in the LA County Fire Department whose marriages had ended in divorce.  Johnny had confided in him once after one of his numerous dates had dumped him, that he didn’t think there were really any more women like Joanne around anymore. Roy realized then that Johnny wanted a woman who he could share himself with, who he could love and have a family with.  He reached up and squeezed the soft hand that rested on his shoulder.

Several minutes of silence passed when Roy heard his partner’s breathing change. Johnny slowly licked his swollen, stitched lip then his eyebrows furrowed as he became aware of the pain that small act caused. His left eye fluttered open and he let out a soft breathy moan.

Roy squeezed Johnny’s right forearm gently when his friend started to move his head back and forth slowly. “Hey, Johnny. I’m here. Just take it easy. You’re at Rampart and you had some surgery.”

Johnny blinked and tried to focus, but his eye rolled back and he clamped his eyelid shut. “Roy?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Roy motioned to Joanne and she quickly pushed the nurses call light button. “You hurting, partner? Are you dizzy?”

“C-cold.” Johnny gave an involuntary shiver and he groaned deeply as shockwaves of pain coursed through him from head to toe. He became aware of an intense, sharp pain in his left thigh. “Agh… my leg! Damn…”

“I know, I know. You had some surgery there. The nurse will be here soon with something for the pain.”

“Oooooh… wh- what happened?” Johnny’s left hand opened and he felt the reassuring hand of his partner grasp it gently, mindful of the thick bandage on his palm.

“Let’s talk about it later.”

“They… they chased me…” Johnny’s mind flashed to the dirt path he ran on to get to his house. “Tried to hide…”

“I know, but you’re safe. I’m here now and you’ll feel better soon. Hey, Joanne’s here.”

“Jo?”

“Yes, Johnny. Now you need to get some sleep, and when you’re ready to get out of here, your room will be all ready for you.”

“R- Roy’s… gonna be jealous… Think you… you like me… more than him…” Johnny gave a poor attempt at a grin, but he stopped abruptly when his swollen, stitched lip would not cooperate.

“Well, he’ll get used to it, hotshot.” Joanne smiled at the man her husband cared so much about. It was easy to like Johnny. He tried to hide his vulnerability and loneliness behind a mask of carefree independence, but she had always seen right through it.

“C-cold, Roy…”

Sally entered the room and quickly gathered vitals after placing a thermometer in Johnny’s armpit.  “John? I’m going to give you another shot for pain. Doctor Early said it’s best to sleep right now. Roy and Joanne are going to go home for a while so you can rest.” She inserted the syringe into the IV tubing then checked the thermometer. Glancing at Roy, she frowned. “102.4. I better call Doctor Early.”

Johnny could not fight the effects of the medication, nor did he want to. “See ya’ later, Roy.” He took a sip from the straw Sally held to his mouth then relaxed into sleep.

Sally made a quick note in the chart then directed her attention to Roy. “Okay, Roy. Doctor Early said ten minutes then I was to send you packing.”

Roy took one more look at Johnny before pushing himself out of the chair with a groan. Every muscle in his body seemed to protest being moved. He swallowed the urge to complain, though. This was the result of a bad decision he made, and he’d have to live with that. Pressing his hand against his sore ribcage, he started towards the door.

Sally walked out ahead of him and motioned to someone in the hall. An orderly appeared in front of Roy with a wheelchair. “Your chariot awaits,” Sally said grinning. “Dixie’s orders, so no arguments.”

“No, no arguments this time.” Roy was more than happy to accept the long ride to his car. He looked forward to resting in his own bed. “Sally, you’ll call if there’s any change? And if he needs me, let me know.”

“Of course I will, Roy.” Sally and Joanne exchanged smiles then the nurse patted his shoulder. “He’s a keeper, Joanne.”

~~~

Six hours of medication assisted sleep had done Roy a world of good. A long soak in a hot tub relieved the worst of the muscle aches and Joanne’s pot roast had restored his depleted energy. The children had gotten their first look at their father right before dinner. Joanne had insisted they stay quiet when they arrived home from school. She had prepared them as much as she could about Roy’s injuries, but as soon as he came out of the bedroom, a deluge of questions overwhelmed him. He sat them down in the living room and explained what had happened. It upset them that their father had been assaulted, but Roy assured them that the man would be arrested and unable to hurt anyone else in the future. Chris seemed to think the stitches on his father’s cheek made him look cool and asked if he could bring his friends over to see. Jennifer, on the other hand, kept stealing worried glances at her dad then insisted she administer his medicine before he ate. Roy dutifully swallowed the antibiotics and thanked Nurse Jennifer.

It took a lot of strenuous insistence, but Joanne finally relented and let Roy drive himself to Rampart.  He entered through the ER entrance by habit, and saw that it seemed to be a slow night. Only one couple sat in the chairs near the registration desk anxiously waiting for some news about a loved one. Otherwise, the hall was mostly occupied by staff coming and going. Roy approached the nurses’ station to see Kelly Brackett on the phone. The doctor looked up and held a finger up indicating that Roy should not move from that spot.

“Okay, thanks, Joanne. He just walked in. I’ll fill him in.” The doctor hung up the phone and looked Roy over. “How are you feeling, Roy?”

“Fine. What’s going on?”

“I was just calling you. Johnny woke about an hour ago.  His fever spiked to 104. He’s very agitated and confused. There’s purulent drainage from the wound on his thigh as well as some discharge at a few other sites where there were deeper lacerations. We’ve started cooling measures.”

“Damnit! I’m not surprised, though. He laid there all night wrapped in that wire. Can I see him?”

“Yes. In fact I’m hoping you’ll be able to calm him down a little. I’ll be up later.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

 

Roy stood in the doorway of Johnny’s ICU room and watched two nurses busily working around their patient. One nurse was drawing blood from the central line recently placed near his uninjured clavicle while the other was applying a soft wrist restraint to his good right arm and making soft assurances as he struggled weakly against her. After successfully getting the restraint wrapped around his wrist, she pulled the cooling blanket over his straining form when the first nurse had completed the blood draw. The two nurses looked at each other worriedly then rechecked IV lines and catheter tubing before leaving the room.

Roy nodded to both of them and moved slowly to his friend’s bedside. Johnny’s face was full of tension and he muttered words so softly that Roy could not understand him. His restrained hand clawed at the bed then pulled at the restraint on his wrist.

Roy held onto Johnny’s hand. “Hey, Partner. It’s me. Take it easy now.” He was relieved when Johnny’s movements stilled and his eye fluttered open.

“Mmmmm… R-roy… can’t stay here…”

“You’re safe at Rampart now, Johnny.” Roy watched Johnny’s eye roam the room briefly, not really seeing, before it closed again. He seemed a bit calmer and kept a weak hold on Roy’s hand.  Roy waited until Johnny’s breathing evened out to sleep before he gently let go and sat down. He had hoped Johnny would be feeling better tonight, but instead the infection had taken hold with a vengeance. He grimaced when he looked at the drainage tube that led from the open wound on Johnny’s thigh to the receptacle bag hooked to the lowest bed rail. Yellowish bloody discharge filled the tube indicating that the infection there was far advanced. The thick dressing on Johnny’s right upper arm where there had been a particularly nasty laceration that Roy knew had to require several sutures, was discolored with a wet yellowish stain that told the same story. Johnny was fighting an infection that certainly threatened his life if the antibiotics didn’t take over soon. The fact that Johnny didn’t have a spleen to help fight infection meant this battle would be even more difficult.

 Roy stood up, agitated, needing to move, wanting to hit… something. Johnny had held on to life for that whole long night, surviving serious injuries, hypothermia and extreme pain, waiting to be rescued – having faith that it would come. It wasn’t fair that now he fought another battle when he should be able to recover from such a terrible assault. “Damnit!”

“Roy?” Kelly Brackett stood in the doorway frowning at the senior paramedic. “What’s going on?”

Roy flushed and shook his head. “It’s nothing, Doc. I’m just… I don’t know – frustrated by all this I guess. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“Of course he doesn’t. We see people here every day who are innocent victims of assaults, car accidents – any number of things. You know it better than most, Roy. You bring a lot of them to us.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just harder when it’s a friend. And I know that Johnny was on a private mission to help those boys. This is the thanks he gets.”

Brackett knew that no amount of discussion would ease Roy’s mind. In fact, truth be told, he felt the same way. Both Roy and Johnny were undoubtedly the best paramedics in the program. It wasn’t just their skills and knowledge – many of the paramedics were just as good – but Roy and Johnny just meshed. They had a partnership that ran like a finely tuned machine. There was no effort in it, it just worked. They both seemed to always know what the other one was thinking and were able to work in tandem without any kind of awkwardness or uncertainty. Back when the program began, when Roy had told him that he would be taking Johnny as a partner he had been worried. Quite frankly, he hadn’t seen what was so special about John Gage and had tactfully suggested that Roy partner with one of the older graduates of the program. The doctor had believed that John Gage would find being a paramedic tedious and restrictive. The impression Kel had of the younger man was that Johnny was after the thrill and excitement of being a fireman,  being in the midst of the action. But Roy had insisted that he knew exactly what Johnny was all about.

Kelly Brackett had never been so wrong about anything in his life. John Gage had surprised him in very short order on all counts. Johnny could turn off that silly grin in a second flat and go into a professional mode that never failed to impress him. And it turned out that Johnny still found plenty of excitement in his job.

“We just need to give the antibiotics time to work, Roy.”

“I know, I know. I’m angry that this kid and his father tried to kill him! I think I have a right to be angry.” Roy’s voice was quiet, but still managed to convey his feelings.

“Of course you do. We’re all angry about that.” Kel took a good look at Roy. “I think you’re angry at someone else.” Roy’s head shot up and he waited for Kel to continue. “Maybe you’re a bit mad at Johnny too.”

“That’s ridiculous! Why would I be mad at him?”

“Well, from what I’ve heard he had been having trouble with those boys for a few weeks. His car was vandalized, and his mailbox, right?”

“Yes.” Roy looked blankly at the doctor. “What are you getting at, Doc?”

“Maybe if Johnny had reported the vandalism, this might not have happened. The kids could have been stopped before things escalated out of control.”

Roy scowled and shoved his hands into his front pockets. He thought for a long moment then looked over at the doctor. “I don’t know, maybe I am a little. But I shouldn’t be. He just has such faith in people - always seeing the good somehow. And this time that faith got him into trouble.”

“You know, Roy, I think your partner would say the same thing about you. You both have jobs that show you the worst side of people, yet you’re also lucky enough to see the good in them too. And if there’s one thing we all see in our jobs, it’s that people make mistakes. It’s human nature. We learn to give people the benefit of the doubt because of that. Maybe it was just Johnny’s turn to make a mistake. And if he thinks he did, he’ll be beating himself up about it. He won’t need anyone telling him he made one.”

“Yeah.” Roy nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. Sorry, Doc.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re concerned. Johnny’s lucky to have your friendship.”

Roy didn’t answer. He turned his attention to Johnny again when his friend let out a moan and whispered soft unintelligible words. He laid a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Take it easy.”

Kelly Brackett stepped forward and felt his patient’s forehead then his mouth twitched in concern. “We need to get this fever down.” The doctor busied himself with checking dressings and making notes in the chart. Finally finished, he rested the chart on the bed rail and looked at Roy. “He’ll come through this, Roy. When have you ever known John Gage to give up?”

Roy mustered a weak smile. “Yeah, he will.”

The doctor sensed that Roy was only saying that for his benefit, judging by the tense expression on his face. “I’ll be back up later tonight.”

The vinyl chair creaked when Roy lowered himself into it. He passed the time reading a battered magazine he found in the bedside table. Popular Mechanics was never something he would normally read, but it passed the time.  Roy knew he shouldn’t be surprised at how tired he was. The long nap at home, hot bath, and meal had brought him around, but he was still freshly bruised and feeling it. He let the heart monitor lull him into a light doze.

Sometime later, it was the changing tempo of the heart monitor that woke Roy. He opened his eyes to see Johnny pulling against his wrist restraint. His one eye was closed, but clenched tightly, reflecting the pain he was feeling. His struggles increased and he began mumbling. 

Johnny’s mind drifted to memories that melded and twined together into a nonsensical order, leaving him confused and agitated. There was Rick and his friends looking for him as he hid along the dusty path, but suddenly the face of an older man wielding a pipe replaced it, then he was trying to run for his life, hurting and now hopelessly constrained in a way he did not understand. His legs would not move him anymore and he felt broken now, like a well used toy tossed into the scrapheap. Alone, ignored, and not needed. In one final desperate attempt, he gathered what strength he had left and cried out, “I’m here! I’m here!” He tried waving his arms, but jagged pain coursed through his shoulder, stopping him. Then he tried running, but his legs were trapped. His left thigh felt as if burning coals had been buried deep inside, and he desperately tried to reach down to move them away. “Oh god, oh god, oh god…”

Roy grabbed onto Johnny’s straining arm. The wrist restraint held him securely but Roy wanted his distressed friend to feel him there. “Johnny! It’s Roy.” Hearing Johnny desperate call for help turned his throat into a tight lump. “Don’t be afraid. I found you and you’re safe now.”

“N-n-o… Rick – they’ll c-come back. Want to… to kill me.” Johnny’s head moved from side to side and he tried licking his swollen stitched lip.

“Rick?” Roy stopped to think of anyone they knew named Rick. This puzzled him because he had been certain Johnny was referring to being left in the ditch from when Mac and Brad Russell beat him. “Johnny! Open your eyes! I’m here, I’m here now. Look at me.”

“Roy… no… where are you? C-can you get… get me out now?” Johnny opened his good eye but it was glassy with fever and stared, blank and unseeing. He renewed his struggle against the wrist restraint, pulling so hard that his whole body shook with the effort. He inhaled a quick, loud breath then went rigid with pain, unable to even make any sound come from his mouth.

“Calm down! I’ve got you now! Johnny? Feel my hand?” Roy wrapped his hand around Johnny’s and patted the back reassuringly. He looked towards the doorway, silently wishing the nurses would get here. He had pushed the call light when Johnny had first stirred.

Johnny seemed to become aware of Roy’s presence and he took a steady breath. “Roy? My – my leg’s… on fire…”

“You had a bad cut and it got infected. Doctor Brackett said it should be feeling better soon. The nurse is on her way.”

“Cold…” Johnny gave an involuntary shiver.

“You have a bit of a fever.” Roy didn’t want to alarm Johnny by telling him how high his fever was.

“Rick… gone?” Johnny closed his eye and tried to move his arm again, but felt Roy’s hand grip his tighter.

“Yes, he’s gone now.” Roy would have to talk to Johnny later and find out who Rick was. Johnny seemed to take some comfort in his words but he kept a tight hold on Roy’s hand as he groaned against the increasing pain making itself known.

The nurse arrived and nodded at Roy who relinquished his hold on Johnny’s hand, not without some difficulty. She moved closer in order to inject medication into his central line port.

Johnny’s movements finally stilled, but he did not fall asleep. Instead he lay still staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t… understand…”

Roy moved closer when the nurse went to the other side of the bed to make notes in the chart. “We’ll talk about it later, when you’re feeling better. Just close your eyes and rest. I’ll be here, okay?”

“Yeah… ‘kay, Roy.” Johnny let his eye close and seemed to drift off.

An hour later the sick paramedic was awake and thrashing again. His fever had risen and he was obviously hallucinating.  He mumbled angrily and grabbed at things with his restrained hand that he thought he saw floating above him. The staff had placed ice packs on several of Johnny’s pulse points, but Brackett had been concerned that it might be too much of a shock for his patient. It was proving to be difficult to keep Johnny calm when he would only listen to the voices of his own making.

Roy kept up a constant stream of encouraging words. When Johnny would become agitated, Roy would bend down and speak softly into his friend’s ear, hoping to finally be recognized. In the early morning hours, Roy recognized a slight change in his friend.  Although Johnny’s eye never opened, he seemed to quiet when Roy spoke to him softly, as if he was straining now to hear the voice of his partner over those circulating around the room. The nurses had continued to bring Roy coffee, appreciating his efforts to keep their troubled patient calm. After a sleepless night spent mostly standing over Johnny’s squirming body, Roy was near exhaustion. He had been leaning on the bed rail, holding Johnny’s hand, almost dozing when he heard the faintest whisper.

“W-water?” Johnny licked his lip and cleared his throat.

Roy straightened quickly and reached for the cup of water. Gently placing the straw in Johnny’s mouth, he waited for his partner to take a couple of swallows. “Better?”

“Um… yeah.”

“How are you feeling this morning?” Roy asked, then turned to see Kelly Brackett appear in the doorway looking like he needed a shave and night’s sleep himself. The doctor had been a frequent visitor throughout the night, refusing to leave until his patient was out of danger.

“I- I don’t know yet…” Johnny blinked his eye open and searched for Roy, finding him a bit blurry, and he tried to smile then thought better of it when it pulled at his stitches on his swollen lip. “Oh god, my… my leg hurts! What – what happened?”

Brackett stepped up to the bed and placed his hand gently on Johnny’s forehead. “Well I think your fever’s dropping. You had us all more than a little scared, my friend. You’ve been a pretty sick guy. But now I think we can safely say you are out of the woods.”

Johnny’s eye closed and he nodded. He was so tired. He remembered some of the hallucinations he’d experienced, and he thought of the old stories his grandfather had told him - of spirits wandering the earth, stealing the breath from the sick and dying. The voices he had heard sounded tortured, keening and wailing. And he had seen forms made of wisps of smoke that grabbed at him but stayed just out of reach when he tried to push them away. Other times there were voices he recognized from his distant past. He remembered having to face three boys at school the next day, after having eluded them on the path, and he’d been soundly beaten for it. Rick, Denny and Paul had tormented him, pushing him down, kicking and spitting on him. Why had that memory come to him?

“I’m going to orders some tests, Johnny. We need to culture your wounds to make sure the infection is slowing.  I know Doctor Johnson will need to check the deeper wound on your thigh.”

“God, Doc… what – what happened t-to my leg? It burns…” Johnny struggled to look down at his leg, but his head felt wobbly and heavy on his neck, so he relaxed back onto his pillow.

“Do you remember being assaulted, Johnny?” Roy knew Johnny was struggling with exhaustion and pain, which might make remembering exactly what happened difficult.

“I think so… not sure if I dreamed some of it.” Johnny opened his one eye and looked at Roy. “A man… um, Mac Russell – caught up with me on the road. Beat the hell out of me with… with a bat and um, a pipe. I remember… rain, and being cold. Did I dream that? Still – still cold.”

“No, you didn’t dream it, Johnny. The police are looking for him. We just didn’t know who had done this to you until recently.” Roy wasn’t about to tell his partner that it wasn’t until Mac assaulted him, that he had learned the complete truth. He was oddly grateful that Johnny had not noticed the injuries on his face because it would only upset him.

Johnny seemed to accept this answer for now. He seemed too tired and preoccupied with the pain of his injuries to delve further into the details. He swallowed hard against the deep throbbing ache in his arm and shoulder. “I musta’ broke every… bone in my… body.” He panted out a breath and a stilted moan escaped.

“No, not every one, but I’m sure it feels that way. Here we go, Johnny. I’m giving you morphine right now until the worst of the pain is over. The infection you had was pretty far advanced, and that’s causing a lot of your discomfort. You’ll feel better soon.”

Johnny gave a short nod and waited for the relief Brackett had promised. Something occurred to him and he opened his eye and searched for Roy. “Brad – Mac’s son…” He wanted to tell Roy everything he remembered now. How they had both been there with Mac pushing his son until he had acted. How he feared the boy was too far gone to save… is that what he thought he was doing? Saving Brad? He wanted to believe he was just trying to help, but deep down he knew he wanted to save the boy from becoming a man like his father. He had lived through his youth fighting off bullies whose family life mirrored that of Brad Russell’s. Now he could only hope that Ben would not be sucked into that life with Brad.

“I know about Brad, Johnny. We’ll talk about it later when you’re feeling better.”

“Ah… My-my leg… is it bad?” Johnny tried to lift his head again wanting to look down to see what could possibly be causing such intense waves of fiery pain, but his neck seemed to not want to support his head’s weight and it fell back to the pillow. He tried reaching for his leg, but the restraint held his arm fast. “Why? T-tell me, Roy!” Before Roy responded, Johnny felt the rush of a morphine induced haze wash over him. His eye rolled back and he let out a groan of relief, and his body, once tense with pain, went limp and he relaxed into the mattress. “Oh god…” He was floating and for once he felt no pain. He knew it was lurking just beyond the edge of his fuzzy brain, but the reprieve was welcome and he let himself go.

Roy watched Johnny’s physical reaction as the medication coursed through his body. He looked over at Kelly Brackett, who pulled the syringe out of the IV port and raised his eyebrows at the doctor in question.

“I, uh, gave him a good dose.” The doctor’s mouth twitched. “He doesn’t need the stress of his injuries and the emotional ordeal of his assault complicating his recovery right now. I’d really rather he sleeps through the next couple of days. By then he’ll be better rested and we should have a handle on this infection. Doctor Johnson will be checking that wound and Johnny does not need to be conscious for that.”

“No, he doesn’t. Thanks, Doc.”

“Why don’t you head home? His temp is dropping and I really think he’s out of danger now.” When Roy did not answer, Brackett sighed. “Roy, he’ll be okay. I think Johnny will surprise us. Once this infection is out of the way, Doctor Johnson can close that wound. His other injuries will heal with time.”

“I know, Doc. It’s just that… well this isn’t a work injury. He needs to get past the assault too. And if I know Johnny, he’ll be turning this around to where it’s his fault.”

Brackett made a quick note in the chart and snapped it shut. “We’ll just have to nip that before it starts then, Roy.”

“Easier said than done, Doc.”

~~~

The phone rang at 6:00 a.m. and Roy answered it quickly after the first ring. Despite the late hour that he got to bed last night, he had been lying awake for thirty minutes. His ribs ached just enough to remind him of his stupidity and he considered getting up for some pain medication, but hadn’t wanted to move quite yet. “Hello?” Roy whispered. Joanne stirred and mumbled something, but quickly fell back asleep.

“Hey, Roy. It’s Chet. Sorry to call so early, man. I’m going to head over to Johnny’s ranch this morning. Marco took care of things out there yesterday, but I need to get the horses out and fed. I just wanted to know how Gage was doing.”

Roy smiled to himself. It was just like Chet to be worried about Johnny, although he would never admit such a thing to his pigeon. “His fever broke last night. He had everyone pretty worried for a while. Doctor Brackett gave him some pretty strong pain medicine and said he’d be sleeping for a couple days.”

“I guess that’s probably a good thing right now. Think they’ll let me see him later today?”

“I was going to wait until this afternoon, Chet. I’ll come out and help you this morning.”

“You don’t have to do that, Roy. From what Cap tells me you aren’t getting around very well either.”

Damn. He had hoped to call Captain Stanley himself after his confrontation with Mac Russell, but he’d been so preoccupied that he forgot. Joanne or Dixie had probably called him to let him know he would be missing his next shift. “I’m fine, Chet. I can’t sleep anyway. I’ll see you there in a half hour.”

~~~

Chet came out of the barn and waved at Roy. “Hey! I just got here. Man, do you know how much manure a horse can make in one night? It’s amazing!”

“No, can’t say that I’ve thought much about that, Chet.”

“I don’t know how Johnny does it. No wonder he never has any luck with the chicks. He’s always out here shoveling manure.”

Roy laughed and shook his head. “Well let’s get started.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it? You don’t exactly look a hundred percent either.”

“It looks worse than it is. I’m fine.” Roy had been shocked when he looked in the mirror this morning. The bruising on his face had become more colorful; hues of purple and yellow mixed together. The stitches on his head felt itchy, but the cut was no longer swollen and painful. He had awoken feeling sore and stiff, but a hot shower and meds had helped.

They entered the barn and went about letting the horses out into the corral. Roy knew the horses fairly well, having helped Johnny in this task many times, but Chet had only helped a handful of times, mostly when both men were laid up, or on vacation. Roy gave him directions on what to do when Chet seemed lost, but for the most part both men worked quietly, cleaning the stalls and filling the feed and water bins.

“I think we’re ready for the straw, Chet.”

Chet walked to the empty stall where bales of straw were piled high. He pulled one off and carried it to Roy then returned to get another. As he grabbed the bale, he saw a blur of arms and suddenly found himself being shoved backwards hard and falling on the floor. “Roy!” Chet saw a young man clambering over the bale of straw in a panic to get out.

Roy turned to see Brad Russell stumbling over Chet and the fallen bales. Chet was able to grab one of Brad’s legs but the young man was able to shake him off. Roy intercepted Brad before he made it to the barn door, tackling him to the ground. The boy fought against Roy, throwing panicked swings that the paramedic easily dodged, and after a brief struggle, Brad weakened under Roy’s hands.

“Let me go! I didn’t do anything! Let me go!” Brad Russell strained against Roy then collapsed back weakly.

Chet stood beside Roy, who straddled the sweating younger man. “You’re not going anywhere, Brad.”

Brad shook his head and tried pushing Roy off once more, but was no match.

“The police are looking for you, Brad. Where’s your father?”

Brad panted heavily and closed his eyes as he dropped his head back to the floor. “I- I don’t know.”

Roy took a moment to look at Brad. The boy was exhausted and seemed pale. “Is this where you’ve been hiding?”

All the fight seemed to have gone out of the young man, so Roy pulled him up by his shirt to a sitting position. He looked up to Chet. “Go call the police and tell them that Brad Russell is here. There’s a warrant for his arrest.”

“Are you sure, Roy?” Chet wasn’t so sure it was a good idea to leave Roy alone in the case that Brad rested up and tried to escape.

Roy gave the boy an assessing look. It was apparent that Brad had been on the run since the night Roy and his father had their altercation. In fact, he looked positively sick. “I’m pretty sure he’ll behave. Bring him out some water, and something to eat, Chet.”

Brad looked up quickly to Roy with such a wounded look that he couldn’t help but pat the young man on the shoulder. “You haven’t eaten since that night?”

“No. I didn’t have any money on me, but I tried to go to the diner really late last night to see if maybe Deke would give me something, but my dad was driving around and saw me and I had to take off. He’ll kill me if he gets his hands on me.” Brad rubbed his face tiredly.

Brad said it with such certainty, and after Roy’s own experience with Mac Russell, he didn’t doubt that Mac’s son was afraid of his father. “How has he managed to avoid the police?” Roy knew there was a warrant for both of the Russells.

“He- he’s good at that. There’s an old hunting cabin a couple of miles up the mountain that he knows about. I was thinking I’d hide there, but he knew about it and I didn’t have any food.”

Chet was standing with his hands on his hips, still uncertain if he should go to the house. But Roy nodded to him and Chet hesitated, frowning, then turned and left the barn. Brad remained slumped over, resigned to his fate now.

“Listen to me, Brad. I told the police what happened the other night with your dad. I also told them that you pretty much saved me from a serious beating. Now I’m not a cop, but I do know that can go a long way in helping to get a lighter sentence. Your dad was the one that planned the attack on Johnny, and I know you took part in it, but if you testify against him, that will help too. You can’t keep running. You’re too young to live like this.”

“I’m so tired. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.” Brad’s tough exterior had disappeared long ago, after having heard his father’s words about his worthlessness and being left to fend for himself. Tears started to flow. “I don’t know why Mom left without me. One time she said she’d get us away from Dad. But I guess she didn’t want me either.” Brad was exhausted and unable to stop the flow of tears or words. “I loved her and she left me with him. I just want to see her… I miss her.” Brad’s words faded as he started crying, leaning on Roy who patted his back soothingly, not surprised that the angry young man was so emotional.

“Now ain’t that a pretty picture, and me without a camera.”

Roy and Brad looked up, startled by the sudden appearance of Mac Russell in the barn. He stood slowly swinging a baseball bat. Roy jumped up and stood in front of Brad, who scooted across the floor, panic-stricken, away from his father. “Get out of here, Mac. You’re not touching him.”

“Now there’s where you’re wrong, mister. He’s my boy and he’s coming with me.” Mac tapped the ball bat against the palm of his hand. “Just look at him. This is what happens when he’s away from me for just a few days. He turns into a little crybaby.”

Brad snuffled and wiped his eyes quickly, pressing himself farther against the stable wall. “Don’t s-say that, Dad! I did what you told me to do, and I got in trouble!”

“That’s because you messed it up, boy. And I had to fix your mess. Now get your ass over here!” Mac struck the bat against a nearby beam, causing Brad to jump and let out a whimper.

Roy stepped forward, blocking Mac’s path. “Get out now, Russell. Brad stays here.”

“And you’re going to stop me, Fireman? Like you did the other night? It sure doesn’t look like sissy-boy is going to rescue you this time.” Mac sneered at his son. “Sitting there shaking like a leaf. Next thing you know he’ll start sucking his thumb. I should have let his mother keep him. He’s worthless and won’t ever be anything more than a sniveling little boy.”

“Brad’s mother didn’t run away did she, Mac? It sounds to me like you’re the one that took off.” By now Roy knew that Mac wasn’t going to leave on his own. He could only hope that Chet had already called the police. He would try to keep him occupied until they showed up.

Mac’s eyes flashed to Brad for a moment then back to Roy. “That’s none of your business.”

“Dad? Y-you told me she left us – that she didn’t want me. Was that the truth?”

“Look, boy. She was no good. Always making excuses for her mistakes. Trying to make excuses for you. She always interfered when I was trying to teach you to be a man.”

Roy crossed his arms over his chest. “You mean when you were beating him? Is that how you teach a boy to be a man?”

“I didn’t beat him! I did punish him, the way my dad did. If you’re soft then kids don’t learn a damn thing.”

“You give fatherhood a bad name. Get out of here, Mac.”

“Come here, Brad. We’ll leave and find a place where we can get a fresh start.”

“He doesn’t have a choice, Mac. He’s staying here.”

“It’s you that don’t have a choice, Fireman. Think you’re so much better than me? Think you’re a hero? Well why don’t you show me how much of a hero you are? Come on! I’ll enjoy cracking your head open.”

“No, Dad! Stop!” Brad screamed and stood up shakily, still leaning against the wall. “I- I’ll come with you. Just don’t hurt him.”

Roy held up his hand to Brad. “Stay right there, Brad. You can’t keep running away. What kind of life is your dad going to give you? Stay and face this, and I’ll help find your mother. I’m sure she’s worried about you. I give you my word, Brad.”

Brad blinked rapidly and stared at Roy. “You- you’ll find my mom?”

“I’ll do everything I can to find her, even if I have to go get her.”

“O-okay…” Brad was shaking now, unable to control the fear that overwhelmed him.

Roy glanced back to Brad, meaning to assure him that he would do as he promised. In that brief instant, out of the corner of his eye he saw Mac swing the bat towards him. He ducked and put his hand out to protect himself, and felt the bat crack against his forearm. He felt the pain upon impact, but adrenaline pushed it back and he jumped at Mac, throwing them both to the ground. They struggled, rolling over each other in the dirt and straw. Roy managed to land a punch to Mac’s face, but the larger man only became outraged, quickly found his strength and succeeded in manhandling Roy back to the ground. Straddling Roy, he used the bat to press down against his chest. Roy held on to the bat, trying to push against it, but his injured arm gave out. Mac pushed the bat against his throat and gave two rapid blows to Roy’s nose and eye. Stunned, Roy went limp and gasped for air when Mac pulled the bat away from his throat.

“No! Stop, Dad!”

Roy’s eyes flashed open in time to see Mac raising the bat over his head, preparing for one final blow.

“Freeze! Stop right there, Russell! Just give me a good reason to have to shoot you.”

Mac Russell froze and looked behind him to see Detective Montgomery and two uniformed officers standing with guns pointed straight at him.

“Put the bat down slowly. One inch in the wrong direction would be a bad idea, Russell.”

Even Mac Russell knew when he was beat. Slowly he lowered the bat and dropped it on the floor. Giving Roy one last hateful look, he raised his hands in the air.

“Take him.” Detective Montgomery directed the two officers, who quickly pulled Mac off of Roy and drug him out of the barn.

Roy lay gasping on the floor, his good hand massaging his bruised throat. He was beginning to feel the sharp pain of his arm, and knew without touching it that it was most likely fractured.

“Oh, shit! Roy!” Chet dropped on the ground next to his friend. “Are you okay? Oh damnit, of course you’re not okay. Lay still, there’s an ambulance on the way.”

“I’m okay, Chet. Just let me catch my breath. Help me sit up.” Roy struggled to push himself up with his good arm, grateful to feel Chet helping him. The room tilted for a moment, and he felt a gush of blood from his nose. “Ah, damn…” He leaned against Chet, who quickly held a handkerchief under his nose.

“On your feet, Brad.” Detective Montgomery jerked the boy up to stand.

“Hey, take it easy on him, Detective. He tried to stop it, and he had already given himself up to me.”

“He’s still under arrest, Desoto.”

“I know, but he’s still a kid, and he knows he’s done the wrong thing.” Roy looked at Brad. “I meant what I said, Brad. I’ll help you any way I can.”

“J-Just find my mom. Please?” Brad’s eyes filled with tears. With all of his arrogance stripped away, Brad looked like a lost little boy. 

“I will. I’ll come and see you as soon as I can, and we’ll get it all straightened out.”

Brad nodded and let the detective lead him away.

Roy leaned forward and struggled to his feet, against the urgent protests of Chet Kelly. Cradling his right arm, he took a few steps towards the door, letting Chet support him. Standing outside, Roy watched Detective Montgomery load Brad into the back of his sedan as a squad and ambulance pulled down the long dirt lane.

“Come on, Roy, sit down. You’re bleeding all over.” Chet led the shaky paramedic to a bench that sat in the shade next to the barn and helped him sit down.

“That’s a good idea.” Roy’s arm throbbed with such intensity that he knew he would fall if he didn’t take the seat offered him. “So how did you manage to get the cavalry here in time?”

Chet waved to the paramedics of 51’s C shift, who waved back and started grabbing their equipment. “I was inside talking to the cops, and I saw the guy’s pick-up coming down the drive. I stayed outside the door because I was going to tackle him if he left.”

Roy had to smile at that. Chet was never one to get into a fight, and he figured that Mac Russell would have probably made quick work of Chet Kelly.

“He woulda killed me, right?” Chet was reading Roy’s mind.

“Yeah, but thanks anyway, Chet.”

Bob Bellingham and Charlie Dwyer trotted towards them, then both men looked at Roy. Bob’s eyes went wide when he realized whose face was under the coating of blood and dirt. “Roy? What the hell happened to you?” Charlie quickly supplied a 4x4 under his patient’s nose, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

Roy’s eyes closed in exhaustion, and he let Chet tell the story, with a few of his expected embellishments along the way, as he quietly succumbed to his colleagues’ treatment. He only protested a moment about the IV, until he heard Brackett’s order for pain medication, then decided a little relief from the intense throbbing in his arm would be welcome. Before he knew it, he was loaded on a gurney and being lifted into the back of the ambulance.

Chet patted him on the shoulder. “Man, you sure know how to get out of shoveling manure.”

~~~

Roy laid on the treatment room table trying to ignore the pulsing ache in his nose and eye. Dixie had given him an ice pack, which he alternated between both swollen areas. The cast on his right forearm was drying. He was glad to find out that he only had a clean fracture of his radius along with some deep bruising. Kelly Brackett had been insistent about a thorough workup, so Roy had endured several x-rays and blood tests to assure the doctor that he was only bruised and sore. When asked about Johnny, the doctor steadfastly refused to discuss him until Roy was completely taken care of.

Roy heard the door open and lifted the ice pack from his eye to see Kelly Brackett pushing x-rays into the light board. He stood silently examining the x-rays of Roy’s head. He crossed his arms over his chest, then turned and approached Roy. “Well, Roy, no skull fracture and surprisingly, your nose isn’t broken.”

“That is a surprise.” Roy placed the ice bag over it and winced at the slight pressure. “Can I go now, Doc?”

“I was thinking about keeping you tonight, just for observation.” Kel looked down at Roy.

Roy saw Brackett’s mouth twitch and knew then that there was some room for argument. “Come on, Doc. I don’t have a concussion, and it’s not a bad break. Joanne can come and get me.”

“She’s on her way. But you’re going home to rest.”

“Sure thing, Doc. Right after I see Johnny.”

Brackett’s head shook slowly and his mouth twitched again, the way it did whenever he was giving something serious consideration. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Roy. How are you going to explain your injuries?”

“I know… but I think it will do him a world of good to know Mac and Brad Russell have been arrested. I won’t stay long. How is he?”

“He seems to be improving. His fever is just low grade now, running at about 100 and that’s understandable. I think it will keep coming down. Doctor Johnson did some work on that wound and elected to keep the drain in place. Johnny was still sedated. It’s a bad wound and will take a few more days before Bill will be able to close it.”

A knock on the door interrupted any further conversation. “Excuse me. Doctor Early said Roy was in here.” Joanne Desoto smiled at her husband in relief and she rushed to his side. “Are you okay? What happened?” She reached out and tentatively touched her husband’s forehead. When Roy didn’t immediately answer she looked to Kelly Brackett. “Doctor?”

“Honey, take it easy.” Roy grabbed Joanne’s hand. “It looks worse than it is. Right, Doc?”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far, Roy.” Brackett had to smile at Roy’s groan. He knew the man was hoping to allay any worry his wife might have. “Joanne, he doesn’t have a concussion and his arm was a clean fracture, so it should heal without a problem. I want him to rest at home for at least 24 hours before he comes back.”

“Doc! Come on!” Roy dropped the ice pack and struggled to sit up.

Joanne patted her husband on the arm. “Don’t worry, Doctor Brackett. Roy will obey to the letter.” She turned narrowed eyes on her spouse. “Right, honey?”

Roy started to roll his eyes, but aborted the attempt when his swollen eye throbbed. “Yes, of course, dear.”

Kelly Brackett smiled at the interchange, tapped the chart in his hand and left.

~~~

Roy was pleased to find Johnny awake and watching television, but a closer look revealed that Johnny’s one uninjured eye was dull and unfocused, and he was clearly not paying attention to the TV. Roy’s entrance caused Johnny to blink and give a half-smile, pleased to see his friend. “Hey, Johnny. You’re looking a lot better than you were.”

“I am? I’ll take your word for it.” Johnny gave Roy an appraising look as his friend came to stand beside the bed. “But you look worse than the last time I saw you. What the hell happened to you?”

“I’ll tell you about it later. I want to know how you’re feeling.”

Johnny was clearly not happy with being put off, but he shrugged. “Feel like crap but they just gave me some stuff. Now what happened?”

“Let me give you the good news first.” Roy watched Johnny, although tired, give his best attempt at an exasperated look. “You remember your attack now, right?”

“Yeah, most of it.” Johnny adjusted his head gingerly on the pillow as he thought. “Been thinking a lot about it. Pretty stupid of me to not just report the vandalism. I’m sure none of this would have happened. What the hell was I thinking?” He closed his one eye and let out a sigh. “Trying to save the world? What an idiot I am. I should have known.”

“No, you weren’t trying to save the world, Johnny. Just a couple of kids.” Roy sat down in the familiar vinyl chair and leaned forward. “There’s nothing wrong with trying to help.”

“Roy, they’re both too far gone to help. I should have seen it. Ben got sucked in and Brad’s a pro at being a bully. I’ve seen too many guys like him. He doesn’t have a good reason to change, so why should he?”

“Guys like Rick?” Roy watched confusion wash over Johnny’s face then his friend frowned.

“Rick? How do you know about him?” Johnny had never told Roy about the bully that, after his parents died, had made every school day on the reservation a living hell. In fact he hadn’t thought of Rick and his cohorts for years.

“I don’t know anything about him. You were pretty feverish the other night and you were saying his name. It was pretty clear you were afraid.”

Johnny let out a disgusted snort. “Afraid is putting it mildly, Roy. But that was a long time ago when I was just a kid.”

“So who was he?” Roy thought he might have a good idea, but knew it was something Johnny needed to talk about at his own pace.

“Roy, I’m tired and talking about Rick isn’t going to help anything.” Johnny tried to stare down his best friend, but the determined look on that face told him he couldn’t win. He let out a sigh before continuing. “He was this kid at my school on the reservation. He had a couple of friends and I guess I… made a good target. I was small and scrawny, easy to pick on. Not like I am today, of course.” Johnny gave a weak grin, trying to deflect any pity that might come from Roy.

“Skinny but tough.” Roy smiled fondly as he remembered those words spoken a few years ago by Johnny.

“Well the skinny part’s true, but that’s where the similarity ends.” Before Roy could interrupt, Johnny cut him off. “Anyway, Rick and his friends made a sport out of bullying. There’s not much else to tell. It’s a good lesson, though. Bullies don’t change and there are plenty of them out there.”

“I don’t know about that. So after what happened, you couldn’t help but be reminded of what happened when you were a kid.”

“Yeah. It was pretty confusing for a while, Roy. I would see Mac standing over me with a pipe, then I would see Rick. I’d remember running as fast as I could along this dirt path to my house, then I’d be in that damn ditch.” Johnny fell silent for a moment. “I know that Mac and Brad will just find someone else to bully.”

“Well I have some good news. You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

“What do you mean? If it’s not me, it will be someone else.”

“No, Johnny. They’ve been arrested.”

Johnny’s mouth hung open as he let that sink in. “What? When?”

“Earlier today. Chet and I found Brad hiding in your barn this morning.”

“In my barn?” Johnny looked Roy’s injuries over then his face flushed with anger. “Did Brad do this to you? He broke your arm? Damn it, Roy… I’m sorry.” Johnny suddenly felt anger and remorse wash over him, leaving him weak.

“Listen to me, Johnny. I’m going to tell you what happened. It’s kind of a long story, but I think you’ll like the ending.” Johnny did not react, so Roy reached through the bed rail and touched his arm. “Take a drink and relax.” He lifted the cup and touched the straw to his friend’s mouth and waited for him to drink. Setting the cup down he settled back into the chair and tried to find a comfortable position.

“Okay, tell me, Roy.”

Roy took it slowly, and Johnny asked a few questions, but for the most part, he remained silent as his friend explained all that had transpired since his hospitalization. Roy explained how he had impulsively gone to find Brad’s father, not having any idea that Mac had taken part in Johnny’s beating.

“Roy! He could have killed you!”

“I know. It wasn’t one of the smartest things I’ve done.” Roy continued to tell his friend about the assault and as expected, Johnny became more upset.

“You should have never gotten mixed up in this, Roy. I don’t know what I would have done if he had seriously injured you.”

“Well, he didn’t get a chance because Brad showed up.”

“Oh, great. So they took turns beating you?” Johnny was becoming increasingly agitated.

“No, he didn’t. Now settle down and listen to me.” Roy waited until his partner had quieted. “Brad pretty much saved me, Johnny. He tackled his father and gave me a chance to get out of there.”

“He did?” Johnny’s face reflected his shock.

Roy continued to tell him what had transpired with the police and how Brad was found this morning in the barn. Johnny remained silent as he listened to Roy tell of Brad’s exhaustion and willingness to give himself up if he helped find his mother. Finally Roy explained how Mac had shown up and tried to take Brad, but the boy had refused to go with his father. Roy skimmed over the details of how Mac had nearly succeeded in bashing in his skull, but he did tell Johnny how Brad had offered to go with his father if Mac would leave him alone. “He did that to try and save me, Johnny.”

Johnny had been quiet while listening to Roy’s story. “That surprises me. But I’m glad he did.” Just the thought of Roy being killed because of his own stupid insistence on trying to help Brad and Ben caused a lump in his throat that was hard to swallow down. “I-I’m so sorry, Roy. I was so stupid. What did I think I was doing? You were almost killed because of me! I should have just called the cops and let them handle it. If I had, I wouldn’t be here and you wouldn’t have nearly been killed. I couldn’t have lived with that, Roy. This really is all my fault.”

“Johnny, you did call the cops when it got out of hand. You have to realize that going to the cops was exactly what got Mac so mad. There’s no way you could have expected him to go that far.”

“I just shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

Roy leaned forward to look at Johnny. He could see that his friend was already punishing himself too much for what had happened. “Listen to me. This was out of your control. Sure, it’s easy to look back now and think that you should have done things differently. But you know what they say, ‘Hindsight is always 20/20’.”

“Yeah, it sure is.” Johnny closed his eyes and took a cautious deep breath. “But I think I’ve learned my lesson. Keep my nose out of other people’s business. See where playing Superman got me?”

Roy had expected Johnny to react badly. He had even expected to get yelled at after putting himself in danger. He had not expected to see Johnny shut down and withdraw inside himself. “Look, I know it seems like it all blew up in your face, but listen. If you hadn’t gone through this Brad Russell would be lost. He’d become just like his father. But he came to my defense a couple of times, and with his father going to jail, if I find his mother, he’ll have a fresh start. And that’s what he wants, Johnny. This morning he wasn’t a bully anymore. He was just a scared kid.”

“A scared kid didn’t try to break my leg, Roy. He looked all grown up when he swung that bat.”

For all Roy’s efforts, Johnny remained quiet and sullen. He hoped his friend would spend some time thinking about what he had told him. But towards the end of their conversation, Johnny’s eyes had drooped then finally closed in sleep. So Roy headed home, let Joanne undress him, give him the pills Doctor Brackett insisted he take, then crawled stiffly into bed, where he would sleep, bothered by his own dreams of Johnny’s frightening night spent alone in a ditch, wrapped in barbed wire, trying to hold onto hope of rescue. When he woke hours later, he understood why Johnny was having trouble seeing Brad Russell as anything more than a dangerous bully. He was certain that Johnny’s real experience was more traumatic than what his own imagination could conjure.

~~~

Johnny tried to drift back to sleep when he heard the soft clicking of shoes on the floor. He hoped it was just a candy striper who would leave after dropping off a magazine, allowing him to find his place back in the fuzzy haze where he could float without pain. He wasn’t sure how, but he sensed that someone stood in the room. He inhaled cautiously, wincing at the still tender ribs and the tight sutures across his stomach and chest. He caught a familiar scent. Searching his memory, he recalled the many times this scent had reached him at the base station. “Dix?”

“Hey, Tiger. Are you going to let me see those eyes?”

“Juz’ tired, Dix.” He opened his eyes and gave her his best attempt at a smile.

“Well it’s not quite 100 watts yet, but give it time. I had a few minutes before my shift and I wanted to see you.”

Johnny gave a short nod but didn’t speak. He was struggling with the pain that had awakened with him. His left thigh felt on fire and sharp shooting pains traveled up into his groin and down to his knee. He closed his eyes, concentrating on getting things under control.

Dixie noticed right away that her favorite paramedic was struggling with pain, and felt a bit guilty for having woken him.  She pushed the call light then leaned on the bed rail. Unable to resist the impulse, she reached over and brushed the hair from Johnny’s forehead then rested her palm there, feeling for fever while offering her own brand of comfort at the same time. “I have a message for you from one of your admirers – two of them actually.”

Johnny opened his eyes briefly. “Huh? Who?”

“Helen and Bill Randolph. Bill says you’re quite the hero. He told me he was pretty shook up that night Helen was hurt. He was so glad you came along and took care of Helen.”

Johnny gave a disgusted snort. “Yeah, well, if I’d acted sooner and reported the vandalism to the police, Helen wouldn’t have been hurt.”

“You don’t know that, Johnny. I doubt it would have made a difference at the time.”

“Well it might have. Helen suffered because I was trying to cut a bully some slack.”

“You can’t take responsibility for that. Bill Randolph said those boys had been causing trouble all summer, and not just at his place. He knows of other neighbors who were experiencing the same thing. No one ever called the police. Do you want to take responsibility for all those people too?”

Johnny didn’t answer but looked down at the blanket, adjusting a fold sullenly.

“That’s right. You can’t. So how about cutting yourself some slack, Johnny? There’s nothing to be gained in punishing yourself. You’ve suffered for it more than anyone already. So concentrate on the fact that things turned out the way they were supposed to for both the Russells.”

“But Roy was almost killed because of me, Dix.” He still couldn’t meet her eyes. Instead his intense focus was on straightening the folds in the blanket.

“No, Roy tried to help, in his own way. He just didn’t think much about the possible consequences.  He was just angry about what happened to you, Johnny, and wanted to do something to help you. Believe me, he knows it was foolish. But when it comes to his friends, especially you, he’s not quite able to see things clearly. No one’s perfect, Johnny.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure.” Johnny hissed through his teeth as the burning pain in his thigh spread through the muscle, causing him to involuntarily tense up. “Damn!” He felt a rush of heat as he broke out into a sweat. Nausea settled in his stomach and he groaned.

“Hang on, Johnny.” Dixie rushed to the door and motioned to the nurse who was casually heading in her direction. On seeing the head nurse’s stern glare, she quickened her pace and entered the room with the tray of medication. Dixie efficiently filled the syringe then returned to the bedside and gave Johnny a reassuring pat. “Here we go, Tiger. This should help.” She injected the syringe into the rubber IV port, then withdrew it. Placing a hand once more on her patient’s forehead, she whispered gentle assurances until his features relaxed and he let out an easy sigh. “Now get some rest. I miss you downstairs. Kel and Joe do too.”

“’Kay, Dix. S’rry…” Johnny relaxed and let himself drift back to the place he’d been earlier. Somehow he felt lighter, as if a bit of his guilty burden had lifted. Leave it to Dixie to get to the heart of the matter.

~~~

Kelly Brackett pulled his green surgical cap off and used it to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “What do you think, Bill?”

The tall vascular surgeon nodded thoughtfully. “I think it went well. I was getting a little worried there for a while. He had a hard time beating that infection.”

“Yes he did. Roy’s waiting in the lounge. Do you want me to fill him in?”

“I’d appreciate it, Kel. I’ve got ‘em lined up back to back today.”

“I’d be glad to. Thanks, Bill.” Kel patted the surgeon on the back and headed for the lounge. He pushed open the door to see Roy pouring a cup of coffee. “Make that two, Roy.”

Roy turned to smile at Brackett. “Sure thing, Doc.” He grabbed another colorful mug and filled it. Holding a cup in each hand he returned to the table where Kelly Brackett sat slouched over the table. With his casted hand, Roy slid a cup towards him, and politely waited until the doctor took a good sip and sighed. “How’d it go?”

“It went well, Roy.” Brackett rubbed his eyes. “Bill Johnson had to do some work cleaning and trimming dead tissue just to make sure the wound would close properly. But the infection was clear so he’s confident it should heal well. There was quite a bit of tissue damage, and it was a deep wound. He’ll be pretty sore for a while. He’s going to have a hell of a scar.”

“He won’t care about that.” Roy took a sip of coffee. “How long before he can go home?”

“I’m not sure, Roy. That infection left him very weak, and he’s still susceptible. I’m going to keep him on a course of IV antibiotics. Let’s see how he’s feeling in a few days. I’ll know more then.” The doctor leaned forward and looked into his cup. “Will he be staying with you, Roy?”

“Yes, Doc. There’s no way he can get around his ranch on his own. Joanne would kill him.”

Kel laughed and drained his cup. “Good. He’ll have to stay off his feet for a while. He’ll need lots of help. Are you sure Joanne is up for it? You’re kind of limited yourself with how much you can help him.” The doctor looked pointedly at Roy’s casted arm.

“I know, Doc. But Joanne loves a challenge, and Johnny tends to mind her. We’ll have plenty of help if we need it.” Roy knew that with Johnny’s casted arm and leg, he would require a wheelchair and someone to push it. His station mates had all volunteered to help when they were needed.

Brackett stood and placed his cup in the sink, then stretched his long body and yawned. “You can see him in about an hour, Roy. He should be awake by then. I better get back to work. Dix will have my hide.” He waved and left.

Roy looked at his watch. He had enough time to make a few more phone calls about Brad Russell’s mother. Detective Montgomery had been a surprising help. He had listened intently to Roy describe how Brad had tackled his father the night he was first assaulted, then how Brad had given himself up to Roy and offered to go back to his father if Mac would promise to not hurt him. The detective said he was all for giving a kid the chance at a better life.

He made his way to the bank of phones and called the detective, who true to his word, accepted his call at the prearranged time. “Detective Montgomery, its Roy DeSoto. Were you able to talk to Brad Russell?”

“Yes I did. He’s pretty anxious about what’s going to happen now.”

“I intend to testify for him, Detective. He took on his father to keep him from killing me. I kind of owe him.”

“And I’m sure it will go a long way with the judge. He’s agreed to testify against his father for the assault against Mr. Gage. We had a department psychiatrist visit him. The doctor believes Brad was coerced and threatened continuously by his father. He believes that taking the step he did to stop him from hurting you further reflects his ability to make decisions between right and wrong. He’s obviously had some positive influence in his life, and I’m betting it’s his mother. It was a big step, and between the psychiatrist’s testimony and yours, he may get court supervision. But he could be sent to a juvenile detention home if we can’t find a relative to take responsibility for him.”

Roy had heard some pretty awful stories about some of the juvenile detention homes in L.A. He worried that the impersonal treatment there would not help Brad, who at the moment seemed to be trying to balance on the fence between becoming like his father who had led him down a dark path of hurt and abuse, or becoming the person who could be better than that. “Did he tell you anything about his mother? I’d like to help if I could.”

“Her name is Amy, and when she disappeared, they had been living in Stockton. I called the Stockton Police department, and they said her last known address was the house that they all shared together. It’s been rented to another family. The landlord said they all disappeared and Mr. Russell owes him about three months back rent. He had received several complaints from neighbors about frequent domestic problems. The police also received several calls and had to respond to that address on three different occasions in the last month they lived there. The officers reported seeing bruises and abrasions on the wife’s face and arms. Each time Amy Russell refused to press charges against her husband.”

Roy rubbed his face, exasperated. He’d seen enough victims like Amy Russell. Beaten and lost. Most of them felt like they had nowhere else to go so they rarely had their abuser arrested. Trapped and afraid, they existed in fear of the next beating. Many times they saw the same women over and over, and sadly, sometimes they couldn’t save them. He had a bad feeling about Amy Russell, and what might have happened to her. “Well, what can I do to help?”

“At this point, nothing, Mr. DeSoto. I have the Stockton Police checking area hospitals and shelters. That’s about all we can do.”

Roy didn’t voice the fact that he thought that there was a whole hell of a lot more they could be doing, but the fact remained that Amy Russell was not wanted by the law, and she had not been reported as a missing person, so finding her was pretty low on the Stockton Police department’s list of priorities.

“Detective, I promised him I’d try to find her. Do you think I could see Brad?”

“As a matter of fact, he’s been asking to see you. Let me know and I’ll arrange it.”

“Thank you. I’ll let you know.” Roy hung up feeling frustrated. He had hoped for better news.  What if they never found Amy Russell? If she was even alive, she was probably worried about her son, but terrified of her husband. He would talk to Brad to see if the boy had any ideas where his mother might have gone. He hated the idea of a mother being separated from her child in the manner that this had happened. Maybe he was getting too soft and sentimental, but somehow he knew Johnny would agree with him. Roy had seen Brad after the tough facade had been ripped away. He was just a scared kid. Afraid of his father and missing his mother.

~~~

“I don’t know why I have to go to Roy’s, Doc.” Johnny couldn’t keep the whine from infiltrating his voice. “I know I have to be careful, and I will.” Ten days had passed and it had been a long and aggravating ten days for both John Gage and his caretakers.

“Johnny, we’ve discussed this already, but if you want to go through it again, we will.” Kelly Brackett didn’t know whether he should fume in frustration, or smile with relief that John Gage was in the mood to argue. He held up one finger. “Broken arm.” Two fingers. “Broken clavicle.” Three fingers. “Fractured kneecap.” Fingers continued to pop up as he recited the long list of Johnny’s injuries. “Fractured ribs. Concussion, which is still causing occasional dizziness and nausea. A still healing wound on your leg that needs daily dressing changes and close supervision. Not to mention the sutures I put in all over your body. I lost count at a hundred, Johnny. And finally…” He put down his hands and stuck them into his lab coat pockets. “You are still very susceptible to infection. You’re weak as a kitten. I’ll be honest – I’m not entirely comfortable with discharging you. It’s only because Roy’s going to taking care of you that I agreed. I know he can do the dressing changes and monitor your condition. Otherwise, you’d be looking at another week here. Any other questions?”

Johnny groaned his displeasure but didn’t answer. He just wanted out of here. If it meant a few days at Roy’s house, then he may as well get used to it.  “Fine. When’s he getting here anyway?” He pressed his gauze wrapped hand against his eyes.

Brackett allowed himself a smile. They had discussed this already too. Checking his wristwatch, he said, “Any minute. Now just relax. I’ll be back later, Johnny.”

Johnny gave a half-hearted wave and tried to relax. Truth be told, he did feel as weak as a kitten.  The first time he was allowed to sit up on the edge of the bed, his body had fallen to the side as dizziness swept over him. He had then promptly vomited into the emesis basin that swiftly appeared as Roy held him solidly against his body until the spasms had stopped. Regardless of how he felt, he still didn’t like the idea of depending on Roy for everything and disrupting his family’s routine.  He longed to be back at his ranch, sitting on his porch or working in his barn. Despite his anxiousness about leaving, he drifted into a light doze, something he found he did quite often even when he tried his best to stay awake.

“Thought you wanted to bust out of here, partner.”

“Hmmm. Maybe we ought to rethink this discharge.”

Johnny opened his eyes and gave his friend and doctor a lazy grin. “Not much else to do in this place. At least when you get me home Jenny will spoil me and Chris and I will play checkers.”

Roy grinned back. “That’s for sure. I hope you don’t mind that they already have your day planned for you. Joanne had to remind them that most of your day will be spent quietly resting.”

“Aww, Roy! I’ve rested enough. I’m bored. I want to do something.”

Roy and Brackett exchanged looks. The doctor stepped forward and began checking vitals. “I think you’ll change your mind by the time you get there, Johnny. I know you’re frustrated but your body went through a serious trauma and infection. It needs time to heal. I know I’m not telling you something you don’t already know.” He handed his patient a medication cup and filled the small plastic cup with water. “I want you to take these before you go. Roy has all your medication instructions. I’ll see you back here in three days. Doctor Johnson wants to keep a close eye on that wound.” Directing his attention to Roy he said, “Any increased redness around the wound or an increase or change in color to any drainage, and I want him right back in here.”

“You got it, Doc.”

“You know, I am a paramedic! You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here! And I know what to watch for!” Johnny glared angrily at both men. He hated feeling helpless. “I can do something for myself!”

Kelly Brackett nudged the medication cup towards Johnny. “I’m not saying you can’t, Johnny. But you have your limits, and you know that too. Take the meds before Roy takes you home.”

Glumly, Johnny swallowed the pills then looked at Roy. “Let’s go.”

~~~

Roy pulled his car into the driveway and parked. He looked over at Johnny who had fallen asleep during the last few minutes of the drive. Roy could tell that his friend was hurting when he had helped the doctor transfer him to the wheelchair. He had broken into a sweat as Roy hit a few unavoidable bumps and potholes during the drive. Then the medication seemed to kick in and although Johnny tried to follow the easy conversation with Roy, his eyes had glazed over and drooped. Roy was relieved that his friend was not feeling any pain now.

Chet Kelly sauntered out of the house with his hands in his pockets. He had volunteered to come over and help get Johnny into the house and settled. Roy stepped out of the car and motioned him over but put his finger over his lips then motioned to the car. Chet nodded, and saw that Johnny’s head rested against the window as he slept. Shutting the door quietly, Roy walked around to the back of the car where Chet joined him.

“He looks pretty worn out. You sure it was okay for him to leave the hospital, Roy?” Chet looked worriedly at his pigeon in the front seat. “He sure didn’t look very good when I saw him a couple of days ago. He tried to act like he was feeling better but I could just tell he was still hurting.”

Roy swallowed the smile that tried to find its way to his face. Chet had spent quite a bit of time at the hospital visiting Johnny. Most of the time Chet told Johnny stories about rescues or fires he had missed, probably hoping to improve his friend’s mood and make him eager to return to work. When that hadn’t worked, Chet had told him about a disastrous date he had the previous evening. Johnny had laughed when Chet confessed that the ‘out of gas’ trick hadn’t worked and his gorgeous date got out of his car and thumbed a ride home. But he had quickly gone silent and his breathing had become stilted and rapid.

“Johnny still has some recovering to do, Chet, but he’s on his way. Let’s get him inside.” Roy let Chet pull the wheelchair out of the trunk of his car and move it to the passenger side. Unlatching the door, he reached through and braced his friend’s body, which slumped bonelessly towards him. Softly Roy tried to wake him. “Hey, Junior. Time to get you inside. Can you wake up for me?”

Johnny opened bleary eyes, taking a few seconds to see where he was. “Here already?” He blinked and tried to straighten up, giving a brief wince at the change in position.

“Yeah. Chet’s here to help me get you out. Don’t try to help. You know the routine.”

Johnny nodded tiredly. “Hey, Chet.”

Roy motioned for Chet to come closer while he maneuvered Johnny’s legs carefully so he could pivot him around in preparation of lifting him out of the car. Chet reached in while Roy supported the cast, then swiftly lifted their patient and settled him as gently as possible into the waiting wheelchair.

“Agh! Shit!” Johnny stiffened and clutched at his leg, gasping at the sudden intense pain that tore through his thigh.

Roy crouched down beside his friend and rubbed his back soothingly until Johnny, who had been frozen in place, held his breath and let it out with a moan. “Sorry, Johnny, sorry.”

Spots of lights that had been dancing in front of his closed lids finally faded and he leaned back into the wheelchair. “Yeah, me too.” His head slumped forward tiredly. “Let’s just finish this and get inside.”

Roy looked up at Chet, whose face had paled somewhat as he watched his friend gasping from the brief move. “Okay, Chet. Let’s go.” They made quick work of getting their charge in the house.

Joanne had been watching from the front door and warned her two excited children to remain quiet when Johnny got inside. She stood on the sidewalk holding the door open as the men moved the chair into the house. Johnny seemed to be rigid as he was jostled slightly with the wheelchair’s movement over the threshold. A brief groan escaped but he bit it back, holding his thigh.

When the chair stopped in the living room, Johnny finally opened his eyes and looked around. Smiling sheepishly at the kids he grinned, “Hey Jenny, Chris. I missed you guys.”

Jenny lurched forward, taking the greeting as an implied invitation to wrap her arms around her favorite uncle. “Uncle Johnny, I have some medicine for you in your room. They’re sweet tarts.”

“Okay, sweetheart, that’ll be great. Hey, Chris, glad to be back in school?”

The ten year old rolled his eyes, glanced at his mother then back to his uncle. “Oh, sure I am. I’d been having way too much fun all summer anyway.”

“I’m sure you did. Are we going to play checkers later?”

Before Chris could answer, Roy spoke up. “Yes, later, Johnny. I want to get you in bed now.”

Johnny wanted to visit with the kids, but he felt as if he’d just come back from fighting a structure fire for six hours. His body ached and his injuries were throbbing with an intensity that seemed to indicate he’d never had any pain medication. “Yeah, I think that… that’s a real good idea.”

Moving to the guest room, Roy and Chet transferred Johnny to the bed. “Ah! Damnit… god damnit!” The words would never have normally come out of his mouth around the children, but he was powerless to stop the flow of expletives as the pain in his body refused to abate. Once more spots of light danced in front of his closed lids and a rush of nausea and the taste of bile at the back of his throat competed for his attention. “R-roy… I gotta…”

“Here, Johnny. It’s right here.” Roy placed the small pail in front of Johnny in time for him to vomit his earlier breakfast and braced his hand on his sweating patient’s forehead. “I’ve got you. Take it easy.” Roy waited for the heaving to stop then took the cool washcloth that Chet had retrieved from the nearby bathroom. “Take it easy… there you go… deep breaths.” He wiped Johnny’s face and forehead then slowly lowered him back to the pillow.

“Oh, god, I-I’m sorry… sorry about that…”

“It’s no problem, Johnny. The ride took a lot out of you and all you need is some rest. Here, take a drink and rinse your mouth.”

Johnny did as he was told, then rested his head heavily on the pillow. All his plans for visiting with Jenny and Chris would have to wait. He felt intense exhaustion overwhelm him and he fell into sleep as Chet pulled the blanket over him.

“Jeez, Roy. Should we take him back to the hospital?” Chet tucked the blanket around Johnny as he spoke.

Roy gave Chet a pat on the shoulder. “No, he’ll feel better when he wakes up. I don’t think he realized just how much that ride took out of him.”

Chet nodded, but could not take his worried eyes off Johnny until he was sure the man was deeply asleep.

~~~

Johnny woke and for a moment, wondered where he was. The room was dark, but a shaft of light snuck in under a lowered blind, telling him that it was at least still day time. He lay still for several minutes, listening to the soft sound of a television in the living room. There was a tempting aroma making its way into the room, and his stomach gave a loud gurgle. He remembered his bout of vomiting earlier, and hoped it would not return. Whatever Joanne was cooking smelled wonderful. After the food served at Rampart, he had been looking forward to a real home cooked meal by his partner’s wife.

Lying perfectly still, he inventoried his aches and pains. His thigh wound throbbed with increasing intensity, and he realized it was what had awakened him.  His other leg ached, but seemed manageable. Little places hurt too, like his foot, his stiff neck and calf, where there was another sizeable stitched laceration, and he felt silly even thinking about them. But when they all joined together announcing themselves, he was quickly beginning to feel more than a bit uncomfortable.

Johnny looked up to see Roy stick his head inside the door. He knew without a doubt that his good friend had most likely done that dozens of times while he was sleeping. He was just catching him at it this time. “Hey...” He cleared his throat after realizing how raspy he sounded. “Hey, Roy. C’mon in.”

“How’re you feeling?” Roy approached the bed and looked down at his partner turned patient, giving him a gentle smile.

“Uhm… okay I guess. How long was I asleep?”

Roy looked at his watch. “About 6 hours. I figured you might be ready for your meds.” He watched Johnny carefully.

Johnny knew it was no use trying to shrug off his pain. Roy and he had been through too much together, knew each other too well, to be able to hide how they felt from one other. “It woke me up. Damnit, Roy. It didn’t seem so bad at the hospital this morning.”

Roy almost winced at the discouraged tone in his friend’s voice. Carefully he lowered himself to sit at the side of the bed. “I know you want to have this all over with, but you know it could take some time. Just concentrate on getting through the day and getting the rest you need. I’m in no hurry to get you out of here.” He reached over and took the pill bottle from the nightstand and emptied the medication into his palm, then handed it to Johnny. He took the water glass and gestured for him to take the pills.

Johnny obeyed without complaint, which earned him a smile from his friend. He was glad to see Roy smile. The days after his assault, Roy had been beaten and hospitalized as well. “Roy, I - I just want you to know how sorry I am, man. I know you said it isn’t my fault, but I just can’t handle you getting hurt because of me.” Johnny held up his bandaged hand to stop Roy’s attempt to argue. “You did get hurt because of me, Roy. I think I could get past the beating I took, but you got hurt twice because of my problem with Mac and Brad Russell.” Johnny looked down at his casted arm, suddenly feeling morose. “I don’t know what I’d have done, Roy, if you had-”

“Hey, knock that off.” Roy’s heart ached at the sadness he saw in his normally vibrant partner. “We’re friends, Johnny. That’s what friends do for each other. I did something pretty stupid because I wasn’t thinking straight. So don’t go thinking that you’re to blame. If Mac Russell had done this to me, and I’d been nearly killed like you were, would you just want to sit back knowing he’s out there, free and wandering around?” Johnny looked up at him. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Johnny found the truth in those words. If this had happened to Roy, he wouldn’t have stopped until the father and son team were in jail. His stomach knotted at just the thought of Roy lying alone and injured, waiting for help. Things were a little different with Roy. He had a family that depended on him, and Johnny felt a kind of relief that he had been the victim here instead of his friend. Not that he enjoyed his predicament one bit, but he always felt protective about Roy. Having lost his own parents at a young age, Johnny knew what it did to a child. Roy knew too, having lost his own father when he was a teenager, so most of the time they operated as an equal partnership. When it came to the more hazardous rescues, Johnny frequently took the lead, and for the most part, Roy let him. Every once in a while Roy had to call him on it though, because he knew what his best friend was up to. Several times over the course of their partnership, Roy had taken him aside and reminded him that he was a rescue man and a paramedic for the same reasons Johnny was, and that he needed to do the job just as badly. Roy had told him that he knew the risks, and so did Joanne, but this was his job and he could not, would not, do it halfway.

The two men shared a look, meeting each other’s eyes but not feeling the need for any words. Neither was the type to get mushy and hug, but the affection was there and it was passed between them in the few brief seconds before both looked away. Johnny’s stomach growled again, changing the subject for both of them.

Roy laughed. “So do you think you can keep Joanne’s pot roast down? She said she’d fix you some soup if you weren’t up to it.”

“I’m not having soup after smelling that roast. No way, pally.”

Roy put a hand on Johnny’s forearm. “Really, Johnny. I don’t want you going through all that again. Maybe you should take it slow. There will be plenty left over. Joanne always seems to cook like she’s feeding the whole station when she gets in that mood.”

“Roy, I’m not feeling sick. My stomach’s fine. I won’t over do it, but I’m having pot roast.” Johnny gave him a grin to help reassure his caretaker that he could handle it.

“Okay. I’ll bring a tray in. After dinner I’ll do your dressing changes.” Roy patted Johnny’s arm and stood, turning to leave.

“Roy?”

Turning at the door, Roy looked back. “Yeah?”

Johnny gave a one shoulder shrug, “Just… thanks, man.”

Roy returned the shrug. “Yeah, no problem.”

In that small interchange, affection and gratitude were exchanged silently, without words, yet volumes were spoken.

~~~

The following days passed slowly at the DeSoto household. Johnny fell into the comfortable routine Joanne set for the family. He longed to be sitting at the table with everyone for dinner.  He had complained the second day that he didn’t like eating in his room, but Joanne had given her husband a questioning look that was answered with the shake of his head. Although honestly, Johnny knew that sitting up for any length of time wore him out considerably, and caused more stress and pressure to the stitched laceration on his thigh. It remained tender, swollen, and somewhat warm to the touch. Roy had taken him to the hospital the previous day to see Brackett and Johnson. They had both been worried that the wound to his thigh was still causing so much discomfort.  The vascular surgeon had shared their concern but cautioned them to give it time.  He changed the antibiotic his patient was on, and reinforced strict instructions of bedrest and little movement, which caused Johnny to chafe.

“Come on, Johnny. You skipped breakfast and now you’ve got Joanne threatening to force feed you herself if you don’t at least eat this sandwich.” Roy looked pleadingly at his irritable partner. “She’ll have my backside if I go out there with anything but good news.”

Johnny rolled his eyes, but knew Roy would get an earful if he skipped another meal. Joanne had taken his recovery as her own personal mission, and anything outside of complete cooperation was akin to mutiny and would be dealt with accordingly. “Inside that sweet, sensitive wife of yours beats the heart of a drill sergeant.”

Roy smiled and put the sandwich and large glass of milk on the bedside table. “Just as long as you understand that, things will go much more smoothly for you, Junior.” He sat down in the chair next to the bed and watched Johnny take a tentative nibble from the sandwich.  “I’ve got some news I think you’re ready to hear.”

Johnny’s eyebrow arched as he chewed thoughtfully. Roy had been gone a good part of the day yesterday, without really explaining his whereabouts. Johnny hadn’t pushed the issue because he was a guest and understood that his friend had responsibilities other than keeping him company. “Is this bad news? What’s wrong?”

“No, it’s not bad news. I talked with Frannie a couple of days ago. Ben’s called a couple of times to see how you’re doing. I have the feeling he’d like to visit when you feel up to it.”

Johnny gave a one sided shrug, mindful of his healing clavicle. “Sure, Roy. I’m up for a visit. I think Ben’s going to be fine now. Now that he’s not hanging out with Brad Russell.”  He took another bite of sandwich. “That kid is bad news. I never thought I’d say that any kid was beyond help, but I think I’ve finally seen the light, Roy. I should have reported the vandalism right away. If I had none of this would have happened… you would have never gotten hurt-”

“Stop it, Johnny! We’ve been over and over this.” Roy watched as Johnny closed his eyes momentarily and nodded. “Now I wanted to talk to you about Brad Russell.”

Johnny had just been ready to take another bite of his sandwich, but instead his arm froze for a moment. Taking a breath, he set the sandwich back on the plate. “What is it?”

Roy noticed Johnny’s features tense as he leaned back fractionally into his pillow. “I located his mother- well, Detective Montgomery really did most of the work, but I’ve talked to her a few times on the phone and she’s in L.A. now. She came to get her son.”

“Isn’t she going to have a long wait? I’m sure he’ll be spending some time in jail with his dad.”

“It doesn’t look like that’s going to happen, at least not right away.”

“What?” Johnny looked at Roy, waiting impatiently for more information.

“Brad Russell has been seeing a psychiatrist in jail. He’s gone through a lot living with his father.” Roy paused as Johnny snorted in disbelief. It would take a lot to convince his friend that Brad was also a victim of his father’s violence. “His father beat his mother, Johnny. Quite badly.”

Johnny blinked rapidly for a moment as the images of the women he and Roy had treated on calls, badly beaten by their husbands, flashed through his mind.

Roy noticed Johnny’s reaction, but continued. “The last time he beat her so severely, she ended up with a broken arm, internal injuries and was in a coma for almost a week. When she was finally well enough to tell the police what had happened, Mac had taken Brad and left.  Brad told the psychiatrist that Mac repeatedly told him that his mother had up and left them.  He was told that his mother had said it was too much work looking after him, and she had run off with a man. None of it was true, but after being told the same thing over and over, the kid just started to believe it.”

Johnny sighed and resting his head back on his pillow, closed his eyes. “I’ve certainly seen enough kids who were used as punching bags when I was growing up. I know how they can turn out.” Thoughts of his childhood returned, and he remembered how often he’d seen the school bully, Rick, with bruises and blackened eyes. Every kid knew his father beat him, but back then, everyone just pretended they didn’t.

Roy bit his lip nervously. He wasn’t sure what Johnny was thinking. “Anyway, the psychiatrist has recommended Brad be released to his mother until the hearing, and he’s supposed to continue to get court supervised counseling.”

“Counseling?” Johnny’s head shot off the pillow and he glared angrily at Roy, his voice rising in volume. “That’s what he gets for beating me, Roy? That’s all he gets for pushing Helen Randolph and breaking her hip?”

Roy put his hand on Johnny’s forearm, hoping to calm him. “Not necessarily, Johnny. It’s up to you. If you press charges he probably will get jail time. You have every right to do that.”

“You’re damn right I do!” Johnny turned his head away angrily. “I tried to cut the kid a break and look where it got me, Roy!”

“I know. No one would blame you one bit for wanting Brad to pay for this with hard time. But I’m asking you to just consider for a minute what Brad will be like when he’s done with prison. There will never be any hope for him. He’ll come out hard as nails, more like his father than ever. Right now, he’s genuinely sorry and willing to do whatever he needs to in order to start over with his mother. He still has a chance to be a good kid, Johnny. When he stood up to his dad to keep me from being killed, I saw the good in him. That meant a lot to me. And I saw the fear in him. The kid was scared to death of his dad. I know how much it took for Brad to stand up to him.”

Swallowing hard, Johnny glanced over at his friend, seeing the bruises and broken arm that Mac Russell had inflicted. For one moment he let himself imagine what life would be like for Joanne and the children if Brad Russell had not spoken up for Roy. And what his life would be like with no best friend. “I- I’m tired, Roy. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Roy nodded, seeing that his friend needed time to think. He had no right to even bring this up.  He knew how Johnny felt and he knew Johnny wanted justice.  He deserved justice.  Johnny had been through hell, absolute hell, over the last two weeks.  Pain medications and dressing changes were still everyday things.  He couldn’t even sit at the damn kitchen table yet.  He deserved justice and Roy had no right to even bring it up, but he had to anyway.

 He sighed as Johnny placed the uneaten sandwich on the nightstand and settled back in bed. For now at least, the subject was closed.

~~~

“Come on, Roy! Let me sit out here. I promise I’ll be good!” Johnny gestured at the couch as Roy pushed the wheelchair past it and into the bedroom. “Roy!” He slumped as much as his injured clavicle and tender ribs would allow. “I’m tired of the bedroom…”

“Look, I’ll make a deal with you. You get some rest then I’ll bring you out here later this afternoon. That trip to the hospital wore you out.”

“Yeah, okay…” Johnny wouldn’t admit it, but he was completely worn out. It had been over a week now that he had been staying at the DeSotos’ and he still had little endurance, and tended to tire easily. Roy had helped him wash up before they left for the hospital that morning, and the small effort of sitting up and cooperating with Roy as he performed the bed bath left him out of breath and feeling as if he could sleep the rest of the day.

The appointment at the hospital had gone well. Johnny’s spirits were buoyed when Doctor Johnson told him the worst laceration on his thigh was finally healing well and free from infection. It still gave him pain, but not the deep piercing sort that caused his vision to gray. Doctor Brackett was pleased with his progress as well, and told him that he could start moving about with Roy’s assistance. Johnny had snorted disgustedly, stating that there was certainly no way he would be able to move on his own. He had expressed his frustration over his own weakness and Brackett’s mouth had twitched sympathetically, knowing how impatient Johnny was to be independent.

They reached the bedroom and Roy knew what to expect. He had seen the fatigue in his partner, so he did most of the work transferring Johnny into the bed. A groan came from deep in Johnny’s throat as he got settled. He clutched at his left arm, which throbbed from the movement. Roy grabbed some pillows, and in a well rehearsed fashion, placed them under Johnny’s left casted arm, and under the right leg, which sported a soft brace for his injured knee. The last small pillow was handed to Johnny, who pressed it against his sore ribcage, groaning again, but this time in relief. Roy disappeared into the nearby bathroom to retrieve Johnny’s medication and by the time he returned, his friend’s eyes were closed and he looked as if he might already be sleeping.

“Hey,” Roy nudged Johnny, causing his eyelids to flutter open. “Take this then you can sleep.”

“I wasn’t sleeping… just… resting my eyes.” Johnny smirked, then took the medication and handed the glass to Roy before settling back into the pillow.

“Right. I’ll wake you in time for dinner.” He walked into the bathroom as he spoke, returning the glass and washing his hands. “I’m not sure what Joanne’s making. Something with chicken. And I saw vegetables, so whatever she makes…” Roy stepped back into the bedroom, looked at his best friend and smiled. Johnny was already asleep.

~~~

The sound of the doorbell roused Johnny from deep slumber. He rubbed his face and blinked hard at the clock, trying to focus on the numbers. He still felt tired and groggy, no doubt from the medication. Three hours had passed since Roy had brought him home from the hospital. He listened but could not make out who Joanne was talking to. He wondered briefly if it was one of the guys from the station. All of them had visited more than once since his stay, but he did not recognize the voice, nor could he make out the hushed conversation. Roy’s voice joined that of his wife’s then Johnny heard the front door close. Just when he had decided to close his eyes, the bedroom door opened and Roy stepped inside hesitantly. “Johnny?”

“Yeah, Roy. I’m awake.”

“You’ve got a visitor. It’s Amy Russell. I had no idea she was coming, Johnny. I really didn’t.”

“Aw, Damnit!” Johnny’s face looked stricken. “What is she doing here?”

“The last time I talked to her, she said that she would like to meet you, but we never talked about it much. She knew you were staying here, though.” Roy saw how upset Johnny was getting. “I’ll just tell her you’re not feeling up to a visit.”

As Roy turned to leave, Johnny said, “Wait. I’ll talk to her. But I’d like you to stay in here with me, okay?” When Roy nodded, Johnny cleared his throat. “Well, let me sit up.”

Roy waited patiently as Johnny got himself situated and settled comfortably against the headboard, then he left for a few moments.  Johnny heard his friend speaking low, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. A couple of minutes later, he came into the room carrying a glass of tea. He set it on the nightstand, then pulled a chair closer to the bed.

“Come on in, Mrs. Russell, and have a seat.” Roy gestured towards the door and finally the woman stepped in hesitantly.

Johnny used his good hand to straighten the blanket that covered his one leg, then looked up to see Amy Russell. She was a small, petite woman with long, dull brown hair that was pulled up into a tight bun at the back of her head, yet wisps hung loosely, framing her face. The first thing that occurred to Johnny is that she was certainly not an unattractive woman.  But a hard life had most likely taken her youthful beauty and aged it roughly. It showed on her face in dark circles that rimmed her deeply set blue eyes. The short sleeved shirt and skirt did little to hide the fact that she was much too thin for her frame. He supposed that losing a son and being beaten within an inch of your life did that to a person. The next thing he noticed is that she was trembling and trying to hide it by clutching her purse tightly enough to cause white knuckles.

“Hu-Hello, Mi-Mister Gage.” Amy Russell did not sit in the chair Roy had provided. Rather, she stood behind it as if it offered some protection. She licked her lips nervously, looked over at Roy briefly, then down at her purse. “Um, I want to thank you for seeing me. I know it was a surprise. It was kind of a surprise for me too. I don’t usually go off on the spur of the moment and drop in on strangers.”

Roy smiled encouragingly. “Mrs. Russell, it’s okay. If Johnny weren’t up to seeing you, I would have asked you back another time.”

The nervous woman took a few quiet moments before her facial expression became determined and she stepped around the chair and sat. Looking at Johnny she bit her lip, then forged on. “I know that nothing in the world could ever bring you to forgive what my son did to you, so I won’t even ask your forgiveness.” She wrung her hands together then rocked herself back and forth nervously as she thought of what to say. “I guess I just want you to know that I… I love my son, Mister Gage. He’s the reason I didn’t die in that hospital. I know that sounds like one of those daytime stories you watch on TV, but it’s the god’s honest truth. When I felt like I wanted to die… I just thought of Brad having to live alone with-with Mac, and I knew I had to get better and find him.  I was planning on taking him away, Mister Gage. I didn’t have much money, but I managed to hide some away, just enough for bus fare someplace.” She shrugged, looking at her hands. “But he found out. I don’t know how, but he did.”

Johnny had remained silent since Amy had entered the room, not sure what to expect. “And that’s when he beat you… and took Brad?”

“Yes, that’s right. I won’t spend time telling you what he did, because I’m afraid you’ll think I’m here to make you feel sorry for us… and I’m not.  I just want you to know that the boy who did this to you, well… he wasn’t my boy. He had become someone else in all those months of living with Mac. A person with nothing left… no hope, thinking he had no future… that he was worthless… feeling he’d been deserted by the one person he thought loved and cared for him. All of that pain filled him up with anger and hate. I think he was just trying to bury the pain.  He was so afraid of Mac, and he was hurting bad too, Mister Gage. Mac told him I had left them. He said I took that money and that I never was planning on taking Brad. He told him that so much, that Brad believed him after a while. I can’t say as I blame him.” Her voice was low now as she struggled with the memories, hurt and guilt.

“Mrs. Russell-”

“Please don’t call me that. I can’t stand my last name. And when I can afford it, I’ll change it back to my maiden name. I’m just… just Amy.”

“Okay, Amy. I’m not sure what you want by coming here today.” Johnny looked over at Roy, who was standing silently on the opposite side of the bed.

Amy chewed on her lip thoughtfully, opened her purse and pulled out a handful of photographs. She shuffled through them, handing one to Johnny. “That’s Brad when he was three.”

Johnny took the picture, noticing how worn and wrinkled it was. The photograph showed a small boy in a party hat with red cake frosting on his face. He was turned towards his mother, obviously laughing. The photo showed Amy Russell, a young, beautiful woman, crouched next to the boy laughing along with him.

Another well-worn snapshot was handed to him, and he studied it. Brad looked to be about eight years old. He was posing for this picture, dressed in a baseball uniform and a too-large baseball hat. A bat was settled on his shoulder and he beamed at the camera.

“That was the only year he got to play baseball. He loved it so much. But Mac made him quit because he thought I was… flirting… with the coaches and other fathers who were there. Brad didn’t understand and he cried for days.”

The last photograph seemed to be the most worn, and Johnny sensed that this one was important by the way Amy had looked at it before handing it to him. In it, a tall, short-haired teenager wrapped an arm around his mother’s shoulder and smiled broadly at the camera. Amy had her arm around her son’s waist. It was a happy moment between mother and son, and Amy’s eye’s shone with pride.

“That was taken about a month before Mac took him. One of my friends took that and gave it to me. I never showed it to Mac because he would have teased Brad. I think the reason Brad is so happy in that picture is because I’d told him we were leaving. I was getting him away from Mac.” She blinked, and the tears that had welled in her eyes spilled over and she wiped at them hastily. “He didn’t even ask where we were going. He just hugged me and said that wherever we went it would be better than where we were. And he promised to always take care of me…” Her voice cracked. “My son wanted to take care of me. But it’s my job to take care of him, and I lost him instead.”

Johnny nodded in understanding, handing the pictures back to Amy. The story tugged at his heart. Amy Russell reminded him of his own mother’s fierce protectiveness.

“I want my son to have a chance… no, I guess that’s not entirely true. I want another chance with my son. If I had managed to get him away, none of this would have ever happened.  But it did, and Mac managed to beat him down, trying to mold him into what he thinks is a ‘real man’. I know in my heart, that if I can have my son back, he’ll be the same boy I loved. And he’ll be the good man I know he can grow up to be.” She wiped away tears, and gave an embarrassed laugh. “I told myself I wasn’t going to shed a tear in front of you. I didn’t come here to make you feel sorry for me. What’s done is done, and I can’t change that. But with Mac going to prison, this is my chance. If Brad goes to prison, I’ve lost him for good.”

Johnny sighed and looked up at Roy, who crossed his arms and shrugged.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. I know what I’m saying may not matter one bit to you. Brad hurt you and that’s a lot to think about. You asked what I wanted by coming here.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Mercy. That’s what I’m asking for, Mister Gage. Mercy.”

~~~

Dinner that evening was a quiet affair. As much as Johnny had looked forward to eating at the table with the family, now all he could think of was returning to his room where he could think. Chris and Jen made the most out of having him at the table, and waited on him hand and foot. Chris cut his meat into small pieces, while Jennifer tucked a napkin under his chin.  The meal was delicious and he tried to eat enough to please Joanne, but his appetite had vanished with Amy Russell’s departure.

“Mommy made apple pie, Uncle Johnny, but you have to clean your plate.” Jennifer urged.

“That sounds great, Jen, but I’m pretty full right now. Maybe I’ll have some later.” He looked apologetically at Joanne. “If that’s okay?”

Joanne smiled warmly, then reached over and squeezed Johnny’s right hand gently. “Of course it is. And we’ll save some vanilla ice cream to put on top later.”

Johnny nodded and returned her warm smile, conveying with a look how grateful he was that she wasn’t pestering him to eat more. He looked over at Roy, hoping his friend would understand his request. “I think I’d just like to go back to bed now.”

Roy stood as he nodded. “No problem. But are you sure? I could get you settled in the recliner and we could try to watch the late movie.”

“Maybe another night, Roy. I’m just kind of tired.”

“Fair enough. Kids say goodnight to Uncle Johnny.”

Chris waved and called out his ‘goodnight’ around a mouthful of chicken, while Jennifer jumped up and gave her Uncle a careful hug and peck on the cheek.

Roy got Johnny settled in bed then sat in the chair next to him. “Need to do some thinking?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know what to do, Roy.” Johnny rubbed his face then reached for a magazine on the nightstand. He flipped through the pages disinterestedly.

Seeing his friend obviously needed some time alone, Roy stood and walked to the door. “Just yell if you need anything.”

“Hey, Roy?”

Pausing at the door, Roy turned back. “Yeah?”

“What would you do?” Johnny closed the magazine and looked up.

“I don’t know, Johnny. I really don’t. So see, I know why you’re having such a hard time. I can see both sides.”

“But what if I make the wrong decision?”

“It won’t be wrong, whatever you decide.”

“Right now, any choice I make feels wrong.” Johnny dropped his head back on the pillow, letting out a heavy sigh.

“You don’t have to make a decision today, Johnny. Not even tomorrow or the next day. You’ve got plenty of time to decide.”

“But will time make it any easier to decide?”

~~~

Crouching in the tall thicket, he willed his heart to stop its loud pounding, so sure that Rick and his friends would hear him in this hiding place. He tried holding his breath, but his lungs felt ready to burst, and his breathing was ragged from the long run. Peering through the brush, he saw Rick staring hard in his direction. Had he been seen? He held perfectly still, even as sweat dripped into his eyes and a droplet hesitated at the end of his nose.

“You know, runt, we’ll find you. And when we do, you’ll wish your mama was still alive.”

A sob pushed up into his throat, but he held it there. What had he done? Why did Rick hate him so much?

“I think I’m gonna beat you so hard you puke, runt. Won’t that be fun?”

Johnny was grateful that Denny and Paul had run ahead of Rick on the path. At least if Rick caught him now he still had a good chance of getting away. He was tired of running and being afraid. His parents’ deaths were still fresh in his mind, and his heart still ached at the memories of his mother wrapping her arms around him when he came home, trying not to cry at the treatment he got from Rick at school. No matter how bad it was, he always had her comfort when he walked in the door. Now when he got to Anita’s house after school, he was immediately set to doing chores and taking care of the little children so that Anita could make a meager dinner for them all. There was no time for affection or sympathy now.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Rick turn and move down the path. He lowered his head to rest on the dry ground, panting.

“Ha! Found you, you little runt!” Denny kicked Johnny hard in the leg while Paul grabbed his arms and hauled him up. “We got him, Rick!”

Struggling, he kicked out at the boys, “Stop it! Let me go!”

Rick ran back towards the group as they drug Johnny, kicking and screaming, from the underbrush. “You really must think we’re stupid. We knew you were hiding here, we just had to catch you.”

“Let me go, Rick!” Dirt and dust mixed with sweat stung his eyes as he shook and struggled.

“Okay, just as soon as I beat the crap out of you. Then you can go crying back to mommy… oh wait! That’s right! Your mama and daddy are dead! You’re a good for nothing runt, and I hate your guts!” Rick pulled back his fist and sneered.

“No! No!!”

“Johnny! Wake up!” Roy tried to steady his friend, who was twisting violently on the bed, fighting against some unseen enemy. “Johnny!”

Johnny woke with a start, held firmly by Roy’s hand. He felt sweat trickle from his forehead into his hair, and he gasped, trying to still his breathing. His whole body ached from his dream induced struggle, and he let out a moan.

“Hey, are you okay? Look at me.” Roy was somewhat shaken by the violence of Johnny’s dream and was concerned that his friend could have easily pulled some stitches or further injured himself.

Johnny locked eyes with Roy, drawing a steadying breath, then gave a weak smile. “Oh damn… S-sorry ‘bout that.” He coughed, finding his mouth dry. He hoped he hadn’t been screaming enough to wake the whole house. He laid his head back and clenched his eyes shut, trying to control the pain that had awakened with him. He couldn’t stop a groan from escaping as his tender ribcage and tightly stitched torso seemed to burn all the way through to his back.

“Hang on. I’ll be right back.” Roy moved to the bathroom and returned with a glass of water and cool washcloth. Using his casted hand, he shook out two pills into his palm. He gave the pills to Johnny, then held the glass while his friend drank, then promptly placed the washcloth on Johnny’s forehead.

Johnny’s face flushed with embarrassment. He was pretty certain this was how Roy would treat his kids if they’d had a bad dream, but he had to admit, the washcloth was heavenly on his forehead. He then used it to wipe his face, gradually feeling the bitter memories of his dream fade.

“Bad one, huh?” Roy’s blue eyes shone with worry.

“Bad enough. Old memories.” Johnny smiled at his friend. “I’m okay, Roy. Go back to bed. Sorry I woke you.”

Roy could see that Johnny was not in the mood to talk about whatever his nightmare consisted of. “Okay. But if you need anything…”

“I know where to find you.” Johnny shooed Roy out then settled back in his pillow, the memories of the fear he had known as a young boy, with the fear he held onto when alone in that ditch, kept him awake for much of the night. He thought about Rick and his circumstances then turned his thoughts to Brad Russell. He wondered if he would ever make a decision he could live with.

~~~

Sweat rolled down his nose and he shook his head, loosing droplets from the shaggy hair as well as his nose. Johnny laughed at the sheer enjoyment he felt pounding a nail into the wooden board he and Roy had just placed. He truly felt good, for the first time in what had been a three month long recovery.

Roy was thrilled to see Johnny enjoying himself as he threw his head back, absorbing the sun’s rays. “Looks pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“It looks great. I never thought I’d get this done!” He had wanted to replace the fencing in the old corral for months now, and had been itching to get started, but Doctor Brackett had been cautious, overly so in Johnny’s mind, in releasing him to full duty. “And I have you to thank for it, Pally! I owe you lunch!”

“You don’t think I’d let you forget something like that, do you?” Roy grinned and wiped an already soaked handkerchief over his face.

Johnny grinned. “Let’s get these tools put away and get washed up.” He bent over and gathered the tools then groaned as his body protested the move. He leaned against the newly placed fencepost for a moment, catching his breath.

Roy placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Maybe we should skip going out for lunch. You’ve done a lot today and I’m sure you need the rest. I could just make some sandwiches.”

“No way, Roy. I know I still need to get some of my strength back but I’m fine, really. Doc said I’d still get winded, but I’m up for work. I need to get back to work.” He gave his partner a meaningful look. “Besides, it’s all-you-can-eat chili at the diner!”

They made quick work of putting the tools away, then walked to the old water pump where some old towels were hanging. Johnny put his head under the stream as Roy pumped the handle, then shook his wet hair briskly before grabbing a towel and rubbing it over his head and face. He took his turn at the pump as Roy washed up. Feeling refreshed, they headed to the Rover, with Shadow running around their legs, inviting them to play. Johnny patted the dog who realized quickly that his owner was leaving, so he bounded off again to some unknown adventure.

Roy watched him go, shaking his head. “You know that dog saved your life?” Roy thought back to how the dog’s absence had alerted him to the fact that his friend was missing. Having him turn up on that road had been the only clue to Johnny’s whereabouts. He hated to think of what surely would have happened if they had not found the place where Shadow had been with his owner.

“Yeah, and somehow he reminds me of it every day. Like when he comes home stinking of skunk or coated in briars. It’s hard to get mad at him anymore!” Johnny climbed into the Rover with one last look at the dog as it loped off into the hills behind his ranch.

~~~

“Order’s up, Frannie! Get your ass in gear!” Deke yelled through the pass-through window from the kitchen.

“Don’t get your shorts in a twist, Deke!” Frannie winked at the owner. Any stranger would have thought the cook was a bear, but the waitresses loved him and the banter seemed to entertain the customers. It also had the effect of the waitresses receiving larger tips, especially when a customer, who was not accustomed to the surly owner, felt sorry for the women.  Such was the case today, and Frannie picked up the cash and coins from the recently vacated table, then wiped it clean before heading behind the counter to grab the plates from the window. She heard the bells jangle on the door, and with both hands full, she yelled a greeting to the two familiar men. “Well it’s about time you came in, boys!” She set the plates in front of her customers, then walked towards them. “It’s been ages since we’ve seen you in here.” She cast an appraising glance at Johnny. “How are you feeling, Johnny?”

“I’m doing fine, doing fine, Fran. We’re in the mood for some chili!” Johnny patted his stomach for emphasis and looked around. “You’re sure busy. Business is good?”

“It sure is. Lots of the locals have become regulars. And the fact that Deke uses real beef now instead of that horse meat he used to serve…” Fran said that last sentence extra loud so that Deke and the customers could hear. It earned a hearty laugh from most of the customers who glanced towards the window waiting for the owner’s gruff response. They were not disappointed.

“Damnit, Frannie! Don’t be giving away all my secrets! Next thing you’ll be telling everybody that the chicken is really-” He looked up through the window as if he just noticed everyone was watching him, then let out a belly laugh and smacked the bell at the window with his spatula. Another waitress approached the window to take the order to a table.

Roy and Johnny exchanged looks as they walked. Both had recognized the other waitress immediately. “Uh, two milks, Fran. Roy?”

“I’ll take a Coke.” Roy gestured to the woman taking an order at a nearby table. “How long has Amy Russell worked here?”

Fran crossed her arms as she thought. “I guess about a month or so.” She turned to look at her coworker. “She’s part of the reason we get all this business. She’s just a natural.”

Johnny was quiet as he watched Amy writing in her order pad, laughing at something the old man sitting at the counter had whispered to her. Her hair, once flat and dull, now hung long and lustrous in a curly ponytail down her back. There was no trace of sadness or stress in her face now as she coyly slapped the man on the shoulder, giggling, and turned to place the slip on the round order wheel over the window. She said something to Deke, who leaned forward, speaking softly, his expression one of sincere interest now.

Fran clucked her tongue and jammed a thumb over her shoulder towards the pair. “That man has it bad.”

Johnny had still not spoken, and Roy noticed that he seemed far away. “Oh, yeah? You hear that, Johnny?”

Johnny shook his head and blinked to awareness. “Oh, sorry. Yeah, yeah… I did hear that.”

“Well Amy doesn’t want anything to do with men right now, so Deke is really turning on the charm with her. He knows what she’s been through. I think he’s determined to prove to her that men aren’t all bad. And he’s been sort of lonely since his wife died a few years ago. So when he’s not working, he seems to be at our house a lot fixing this or that. Amy’s playing real hard to get, but I can’t say that I blame her.”

“Oh, she’s staying with you?” Roy asked Fran, then looked over at Johnny who once more seemed to not be paying attention to the conversation.

“Yes. Ben and I have been having a hard time making ends meet in that big old house. I had been thinking of giving up and finding a small apartment up until I met Amy. She’s been a godsend. Almost like a sister I never had. We share expenses and so far it’s been working out.” She frowned slightly at Johnny, noticing the far off look. “I’ll put your order in, boys. Be right back with your drinks.”

Johnny looked nervously at his friend. “Roy, I don’t think we – er, I mean I, should be here. Come on. We can have sandwiches at home.” He started to stand, but Roy put a reassuring hand on his forearm, firmly keeping him in place.

“It will be fine, Johnny. I know you’re worried about talking to her since the trial…”

“Yeah, I am! What if she’s mad at me? What if she thought I was being too hard on Brad? This is a bad, bad idea. Come on, let’s go.” Roy continued to hold onto his arm. Johnny looked up to see Amy walking towards them. “Oh, damn… too late.”

Amy smiled nervously. “Hello, Mister Gage, Mister DeSoto.” She picked nervously at her apron. “How are you doing, Mister Gage? You look much better than the last time I saw you.”

Johnny smiled back nervously. “I’m doing great. You look… uh…” He wasn’t sure what he should say exactly.

“Happy?”

“Uh, yes… you do look… happy.” Johnny could not deny that this woman, in the few short months since he had met her, had changed considerably for the better. Her skin was healthy, unlike the pallor before. Although she still seemed a bit too thin, Amy had put on some weight in all the right places. He recalled how thin she had appeared three months ago.

“I really am. I suppose a lot of people wouldn’t consider what I have now much to be happy about, but when you’ve been at the bottom, middle is pretty good!”

Laughter and giggling from a booth full of teenage girls interrupted them. A young man with short blonde hair was bussing a table near them, and obviously flirting at the same time.

Johnny looked closer at the young man. “Is that Brad?”

“It sure is. Deke gave him a job here too, so we could keep a close eye on him. Deke and Frannie have been a godsend. I don’t know what I’d do without them. Between all of us, Brad has plenty of supervision, here and at home.”

Roy nodded. “That’s great to hear, Amy. I’m sure you’ll get him turned around.”

“Oh, you bet I will. And with Deke and Frannie helping, he just doesn’t have a choice!” She gave a laugh that made her eyes sparkle. “That’s more of my boy right there already. He’s more easy-going. He likes working here, and Deke has been showing him how to cook. We still have our problems, though. It’s not been easy. But he sees the counselor once a week, just like the judge ordered.”

They watched Brad for a few moments, seeing him wander away from the table and move over to the girls’ booth. He was concentrating on the red haired girl in the corner now, and he leaned on the table and turned on the charm. All the girls giggled loudly again at whatever he had said.

Deke had been watching from the pass-through window, and called out, “Brad! I better see clean tables in thirty seconds or you’ll be washing dishes past closing time!”

Brad jolted up and spun around to look at Deke, his mouth dropping open. The girls giggled again, and Brad blushed and mumbled something that certainly wasn’t meant for anyone’s ears, as he hurriedly began cleaning another table.

“What was that, boy? I didn’t quite hear you.” Deke scowled out the window at Brad.

Without looking up, Brad answered, “Nothing, Deke. I’m on it, I’m on it!”

“That’s what I thought you said.” Deke looked over at Amy, winked and chuckled before returning to his kitchen.

Amy grinned then turned her attention back to the paramedics. “Mister Gage, I… I’m glad I had a chance to talk to you. I just wanted to thank you for giving my boy and me a chance. I promise you won’t regret it. I know he’s done a lot of hurting, and maybe he never will be able to completely make up for it, but I promise, he’s the kind of boy who will try his whole life.”

“I hope so. I’ve known kids like him that never got a second chance, Amy.”

She smiled kindly then turned to Roy. “And Mister DeSoto, I can’t thank you enough for speaking up for Brad in court. What you told the judge about how Brad tried to stop Mac from hurting you really made a difference. I just know he’d be in some juvenile detention center, maybe even prison, if it hadn’t been for both of you.”

“Order’s up, Amy! Or are you going to stand around all day flirting with the customers?” The cook shouted loudly through the window.

“Stuff a sock in it, Deke! I’m coming!” Amy and Deke exchanged grins as the customers laughed then she turned to Roy and Johnny. “Well, I just wanted to thank you. And knowing Mac will be in prison for a good long time, we both have the fresh start we needed. We won’t ever forget how much we owe you both.” She gave them both a gentle smile, and then she reached out and squeezed Johnny’s shoulder before returning to her work.

Johnny grabbed a menu and began studying it. Roy watched him a few moments, sensing his friend’s troubled thoughts. “We already ordered, Johnny.”

Heaving a sigh, “Yeah, I know.” He replaced the menu. “I hope Brad doesn’t mess this up, Roy.”

“Me too. Somehow I don’t think he will. He finally seems to be headed down the right path.”

“I just don’t want him to turn his back on the chance he’s got to really make a difference now. Not just for himself, but his mom too.”

“I think what he did at his father’s trial proved he could finally stand up to Mac and that he knew what he did was wrong. He took responsibility for his own part in it.”

“Yeah, he did.” Johnny’s thoughts returned to that day in the courtroom.

 

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Roy looked at his friend’s face, noting the flush and sheen of perspiration. “You’ve already given your deposition for the trial.”

“I know, Roy. But I need to be here. I want to see that bastard put away.”

Roy had not argued further, but pushed his partner’s wheelchair into the courtroom. He was relieved to see so many of their friends here. Captain Stanley could be seen in the crowd, leaning over and talking to Mike Stoker. Marco and Chet were next to Stoker and having their own animated conversation. He positioned Johnny behind the prosecution’s table, where the attorney immediately began talking to his client. Roy took his place in the chair directly behind Johnny. He knew he would be called as a witness as well, and he was nervous enough for both of them.

“You look nervous, Roy.”

Roy startled and looked up to see Dixie standing over him, with Kelly Brackett behind her.

“Hey, Dix… Doctor Brackett. I didn’t know you were going to be here.” He motioned for them to both have a seat, and he felt grateful to have them next to him.

Brackett leaned over to speak in hushed tones. “The district attorney wanted someone here that could testify to the severity of Johnny’s injuries. He was worried that the defense would try to minimize the seriousness of it all. I’m going to make sure he doesn’t.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“How’s Johnny doing?”

“He’s doing okay now. He’s a little worn out from just getting here, but he was determined to go through with it.”

Dixie patted his leg. “I wouldn’t have expected any less from him. That partner of yours is really something.”

Brackett and Roy looked at each other, trying and failing, to suppress their smiles. They knew of Dixie’s soft spot where Johnny was concerned.

“Yeah, Dix, he is…”

The trial was long, with the defense making every effort to impugn the integrity of the witnesses as well as the victim of Mac Russell’s violence. He concentrated on Brad’s involvement, and suggested over and over that Mac was dealing with an out of control son, who was really responsible for the assault on Johnny.

It wasn’t hard for the judge to see through that tactic. The district attorney stressed Johnny’s profession and many commendations, making it difficult for the defense to argue against. The prosecution called Captain Stanley as a character witness, and was ready to call the rest of the crew, when the defense relented and instead began implying that Johnny’s injuries were never life threatening, and that it was entirely possible that he could have been hit by a car on that road and was just blaming Mac Russell because he had been having trouble with his son.

Doctor Kelly Brackett made a fool of him very quickly, pointing out that these injuries could not have been made by a vehicle, and that Johnny did have recollection of what happened. As the director of the Emergency department at Rampart, as well as the director of the paramedic program, the defense was flummoxed.

But it was Brad Russell’s testimony against his own father that finally shut the door on any possibility of leniency for Mac. Brad appeared in court wearing a brown suit. Gone was the long straggly hair, and with it no trace of the angry, defensive expression he had worn for so long. As he spoke of his father’s abuse of his mother and him, he sought out Amy’s face in the crowd. She nodded and smiled her encouragement to him constantly. He steadfastly ignored the hateful glares coming from his father at the defense table. When the discussion turned to the day of the assault on Johnny, Brad recounted, in painful detail, his father’s plan to ambush the paramedic. He stated that he had only been told that his father would try to scare Johnny into backing down on talking to the police. But once they had Johnny cornered, his father quickly made his true intentions known.

The defense attorney strutted in front of the jury and implied that Mac Russell had tried to stop his son from beating John Gage, but that he was so enraged he was unstoppable.

“That’s not true! I was scared. Every day with my dad I had to be what he wanted or I was afraid he would leave me too. He kept telling me I was worthless like my mother, and that maybe… he should just give up on me and leave like she did.”

“Then why didn’t you leave him, if he really was as abusive as you say?” The defense attorney accused sarcastically.

“What would I have done? Where would I have gone? He was all I had. Now I see what he made me into… what kind of person I was becoming… I hated everyone, everything…” Brad’s voice cracked and for the first time he looked at his father. “But I know that deep down I’m nothing like him. I don’t want to be him. He needs to be in prison, because if he’s not, he’ll hurt someone else. And the next time, he’ll kill them. Maybe it will be me or my mom he comes after.”

“Give it up, Brad. Are you trying to tell us you had nothing to do with the assault on Mister Gage?”

Brad looked down at his lap, then slowly, his eyes came up to meet Johnny’s. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to him. Never. I get a sick feeling in my stomach every time I think of it. I hit him with a bat. Hard enough to break his leg, I guess. My dad kept telling me I was going to go to prison and that I needed to...” he took a shaky breath. “I needed to step up and be a man. I- I can’t even explain how scared I was. But my dad wanted him dead, not me.”

It was then that Johnny saw the real Brad Russell, the one that had potential and ability to right his wrongs and change his future. It was a man seated in the witness chair now, not a boy who took responsibility for his actions. And it was then that Johnny made his decision to ask the judge for leniency when it came time for Brad’s trial.

Johnny’s own testimony was a blur. When he took the stand he was alert and focused, able to give every detail and recount the incident on the road and his struggle to stay alive during that long night and much of the next day. It had only been three weeks since his discharge from Rampart, and he was wheeled away from the stand drained of all energy. Court had been dismissed until the next day, the judge sensing that the witness was at the end of his endurance.

Roy had taken him home, letting Dixie and Doctor Brackett fuss over him while he assured Captain Stanley and his station mates that Johnny was just exhausted and in pain from the long day. He had not spoken at all during the ride home or as he was settled into bed, and only gave token complaints when the doctor and nurse insisted on checking him over before letting him rest. Roy sensed that Johnny had made a decision, and felt he knew what that decision was. It was the reason he had become so quiet, worrying that if he pleaded leniency for Brad, would the boy take advantage of this one last opportunity?

 

“Looks pretty good, huh, Roy?” Johnny squinted and ran his fingers over his sweating brow.

Roy circled the old fire engine, then stepped in to examine the recently completed work on its radiator. “It sure does. How’d you finally get it finished? I told you to call me and I’d come over.”

Johnny shrugged. “I know, but I found some help.” Johnny walked around the corner of his barn, where the engine was stored and looked out into the field behind the house. “He helped me.”

“No kidding?” Roy shook his head in disbelief.

Brad Russell was running around in the field, with Shadow close behind. The dog was quick and nipped at Brad’s heels, causing him to stumble and fall. The dog pounced on the fallen teen, whining and licking, causing him to erupt in laughter. “Get off me you dumb dog!” Brad got to his knees and lifted a ball high over his head. “Here it is… you want it?” He shook the ball in front of Shadow’s nose, then jumped to his feet and ran. Before the dog could tackle him again, he threw the ball as far as he could. Shadow barked eagerly, then took off after it.

Brad bent and rested his hands on his knees, panting, as he watched Shadow go after the ball. He turned around and saw the two men watching. He made his way towards them, breathing heavily. “That dog of yours is nuts, Mister Gage.”

“He sure is, Brad. But you looked a little nuts out there yourself.” Johnny grinned as Shadow came bounding towards them, holding the wet ball in his mouth. He dropped the ball at Brad’s feet, then looked up at him hopefully. The tanned young man laughed and dutifully picked up the ball and threw it again, watching as Shadow took off once more.

Roy reached out and shook Brad’s hand. “Hi Brad. Johnny tells me you fixed the radiator in the engine.”

“It was nothing, Mister DeSoto.”

“You can call me Roy.”

“No sir, I can’t. My mom is real strict about that. No calling adults by their first names. She says it’s not respectful.” He got a funny look on his face. “But you know what… she lets me call Deke by his. Now isn’t that funny…” He shook his head as if he just couldn’t understand.

“Okay, well thanks for the help. Johnny and I were hoping it would be ready in time to take it to fire safety talks at the schools.”

“It purrs like a kitten now, Roy. Doesn’t it, Brad?” Johnny patted the young man on the shoulder.

“It does run good.” Brad blushed at the compliment, then looked up at the sound of a horn honking. They all walked around the barn to see Ben Masters sitting in a small, beat up car. “Well, Ben’s here to take me to the Randolphs’.” He looked up at Johnny, and his face expressed his apprehension. “I don’t know, Mister Gage. I don’t think they’ll ever like me.”

Johnny and Roy exchanged worried looks before Johnny gave the teenager an encouraging pat on the back. “Look, Brad. It might just take some time. I know you’ve been trying real hard.”

“I have, but I don’t think it’ll ever be enough. When Mrs. Randolph looks at me she still seems scared. And it’s hard for me to look at her using that walker and know I did that to her.” Brad’s eyes misted with tears. “I don’t know what else to do, Mister Gage. I mow their grass, I worked on their car, I fixed some windows…”

“It’ll just take time. The fact that you won’t give up will dawn on them and I bet they’ll come around. What are you going to do for them today?”

“Ben and I are going to put in a fence around their garden. Then um…” Brad mumbled under his breath.

“What’s that?”

Rolling his eyes and letting out an exaggerated sigh, Brad spoke up. “I’m going to hang out their laundry. I do that for them, okay?”

“I think that’s a real good idea, Brad. You better get going.”

“Okay, Mister Gage. Thanks for letting me work on that engine!” He ran over to the car and pounded on the hood to greet Ben, who laughed as Brad slid his body through the open window instead of opening the door. The car pulled out spinning its tires, making a cloud of dirt and dust, causing both teenagers to howl in laughter.

Roy watched the car disappear down the dirt lane and shook his head. “Some things never change.”

Johnny turned to his friend. “And sometimes they do.”

 

~~~Fin~~~

 

It is good to have friends who push when feelings of doubt caused me to be discouraged about posting. This story sat for several months, largely ignored although it had been read and beta’d by two friends. To Dawn, who offered constant support and ideas, thank you so much! Our late night banter and E! “eppying” are a source of fun and inspiration!  And to B, whose quirky take on this fandom keeps me laughing! Your expertise and input made me feel more confident about the story I tried to tell. If not for both of these valuable people this story would still be sitting in a virtual dark corner of my hard drive, cold, dusty and alone.

 

 

 

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