Disclaimer: The characters of the television show Emergency! are copyright of Mark VII Production and Universal Studios. No copyright infringement is intended, nor is any profit being made through this piece of fiction. All original characters and events are the property of the authors.

Keeping the Home Fires Burning

by Northlander and Paula

Part One

"You arrogant bastard!" Joanne DeSoto's hand connected with her husband's cheek. "How dare you keep me from my children!" She raised her hand to deliver another blow, only to have it stopped mid-air.

"Joanne, please." Roy words were forced out through gritted teeth. His face, still stinging from the resounding slap, was a mixture of anger and concern. "Try to listen to reason." Watching his wife's eyes darken in fury, he knew that his pleas were falling on deaf ears. "I'm sorry if you can't..."

Pulling her hand from her husband's grip, Joanne took a step back. "I'm not the one who's going to be sorry, Roy. You have no right..." Her face flushed an angry red as she massaged her tender wrist. "No right." Wiping at a tear that tracked down her cheek, her voice was barely more than a whisper. "Just tell me where they are."

Feeling his resolve start to weaken, DeSoto walked to the couch to retrieve his gear. "I can't do that, Joanne. And I won't until I know I can trust you." Throwing a duffel bag across his shoulder, he turned to leave. "I know the timing's really lousy, but I've got to get going. I'll call you first chance I get." He reached out a tentative hand only to have her turn away. He let it drop to his side. "I'll see you in a couple of days."

The few steps from the living room to the front door seemed to take forever. He could almost feel the bruise forming where his wife had struck his face. A part of Roy was having a hard time accepting that the snarling woman who had slapped him *was* his wife.

"I can't believe that you're doing this to me." Those few words hit him with an almost physical force, driving away any feelings of guilt or remorse that had been trying to claw their way to the surface.

The duffel bag slammed into the door with a thud as Roy spun on his wife. "What can't you believe, Joanne?" He spit the words out. "That I'd do anything to protect my children? Doesn't what you did scare you?" Running a hand through his hair, he tried to swallow back some of his anger. "Are you so far gone that you don't even realize what a threat you are to them?"

"I'll do what you want." She took a step towards him with her hands spread before her, underlining the desperation in her voice. "Anything."

"I'd like to believe that, but I've heard your promises before." With an angry turn of the knob he pulled the door open. "I'll see you in a couple of days." The hammering of his heart echoed in his ears, drowning out the slam of the door as he rushed down the porch steps.

***************************

Giving Smokey two quick raps on the nose, John Gage slowly closed his locker. A small knot of worry had started to form in the pit of his stomach. Roy was as close to being late as he could get. Sitting on the bench, he stared at his partner's usual spot as if the wood grain of the locker door held the clue to his friend's whereabouts. The frantic call the night before, and the events that followed it, still played out in Gage's mind like some surreal movie. He knew that things between the DeSotos had deteriorated, but Roy's request had still come as a shock.

"*Gage.*" Cap's exasperated tone pierced his reverie. Looking up, John was startled to see Stanley standing next to him, a sardonic smile on his lean features. "Welcome back. I was afraid that I was going to have to report both my paramedics AWOL."

"Uh, sorry, Cap." A crooked grin accompanied the younger firefighter's embarrassed blush. "I guess I was a little caught up in my thoughts."

"Did those thoughts happen to include your absent partner?" The captain allowed some humour to soften his smile. "It's not like DeSoto to be late."

Chuckling, John stood up. "No, sir. That's usually me." He tucked his shirt into his pants and debated how much of the mystery of the previous day he should tell his superior. Deciding that Roy should be the one to discuss this with Stanley, Johnny adopted his most guileless expression. "I'm sure it's that old truck of his. He's been complaining about it stalling out on him. He's probably stuck somewhere, all tied up in knots because he's going to be late."

Hank Stanley couldn't help but laugh at the picture that came to mind. "You're probably right, John." He lightly slapped the paramedic on the back. "I'll try to go easy on him when he gets in."

As if on cue, the door to the locker room swung open and Roy DeSoto ran into the room. Eyes wide, he skidded to a stop as he fumbled for a plausible excuse to tell his captain. Stanley was well known for being a stickler about punctuality and Roy fully expected a quick lecture about the many uses of a clock. His mouth dropped open in surprise when the captain turned to look at him. Captain Stanley just gave him a nod and smiled as he left the room.

"Roll call and roster are in five minutes, DeSoto. I expect you both to be out there and on time."

Yanking his locker open, Roy glanced at his partner. "What'd you tell him? I thought he'd be all over me for being late." He quickly shrugged out of his sweater and grabbed a shirt.

"Aw, you know Cap. I just told him you'd been having car trouble. He was okay with that." Johnny leaned against the wall, taking in the other man's unnatural flush and the dark circles under his eyes. "You wanna tell me what really happened?"

Roy took a deep breath before answering. He knew that he owed his friend an answer, but wasn't sure he was ready to tell him everything. "I can't." He shook his head and looked down, continuing to button his shirt. "Not everything." Swallowing hard, he continued, "Joanne and I had a fight before I left. About my taking the kids." John's hand on his arm made him look up.

"Hey, it's okay, Roy. You don't have to tell me." Gage pushed himself off the wall, giving his partner a reassuring smile. "I better get out there and tell Cap you're on your way."

"Johnny?" DeSoto called after his friend. "Look, I do want to tell you everything that's been going on. I just want to wait until we can sit down and really talk."

Nodding silently, Gage headed for the apparatus room. His partner looked defeated, probably as defeated as he had ever seen him.

************************

"Squad 51. Unknown injury. 123 Moore Avenue. Cross street, Waverly. Time out 7:29."

The voice of Sam Lanier interrupted the beginnings of Hank Stanley's delegation of duties. Shoving his clipboard into Mike Stoker's hands, he trotted over to the radio with DeSoto on his heels. The captain hadn't missed the quick look Gage had given his partner. It seemed as if John had been silently asking Roy if he was all right. He made a mental note to ask Gage about it when they returned from the run.

"Squad 51, 10-4. KMG 365." Turning, the captain handed the slip of paper to the senior paramedic who sat in his customary place behind the wheel. "Here you go, Roy. You and Gage take it easy out there."

Handing the note to his partner, Roy nodded and put the truck into gear. "Will do, Cap."

123 Moore turned out to be a black and white brick home that sat at the end of a quiet tree-lined street. The ride to the call had been a silent one, with Roy barely acknowledging Johnny's attempts at conversation. Gage’s worry, which had started back at the station, was beginning to grow. The tension flowing from Roy had become almost palpable. Johnny knew his partner was a professional and that the job wouldn't suffer. He only wondered what toll the strain would eventually take.

John Gage was already out of the squad before the wheels had come to a complete stop in front of the house. He thought it odd that no one was standing outside or on the doorstep watching for their arrival. Usually a distraught family member or neighbour hovered over them as soon as they arrived on the scene. Turning the handle of the squad compartment, Gage began to unload it, handing his partner the bio-com and trauma box. Unsure of what type of emergency would meet them, the two men hurried up the angelstone walkway. With no doorbell in evidence, Roy reached for the heavy brass knocker. Three strong raps brought no response.

"Fire department!" Johnny yelled. He looked at his partner in exasperation. There was still no answer. He was about to shout again when they heard a muffled voice come from inside.

After several moments, a man, who seemed to be in his late thirties, answered the door, a look of confusion on his face.  "Can I help you?" he asked indignantly.

John glanced quizzically at Roy before answering. "Sir, we're from the fire department ... paramedics. Ah, we were called and told that someone was injured."

"No, no one called." The man's tone lost none of its belligerence. "You must have the wrong address." He started to close the door in their faces.

"Are you sure?" Roy's hand shot out to stop the door from closing completely. A gut reaction urged the paramedic to keep prodding. The man's surly demeanor made him seem overly defensive. "Maybe someone else in the house called?"

"Don't you think I'd know if someone called?" He took a step towards them, daring either of the two to contradict him.

"Yes, sir, I guess you would." The disgust in Johnny's voice was reflected in his eyes. "Sorry to have bothered you."

Picking up their gear, the paramedics turned to leave. "I'm sorry." A woman's voice stopped them. "I called you, but it was all a mistake."

"Are you all right, ma'am?" Roy could see from where he stood that cuts on the woman's face had been quickly and unsuccessfully concealed. "Do you need our help?" His gaze dropped to her hands. She seemed to be cradling her left hand very close to her body. Roy was certain that her husband obstructed Johnny's view of the woman since he hadn't reacted.

"Maybe we can take a look at your hand while we're here." DeSoto used his most calm and soothing voice, hoping to persuade her to let them help. Fear and resignation filled her expression, but she gently offered her hand to Roy.

From the corner of his eye, the paramedic saw the icy glare the husband had directed at his injured wife. He also saw his partner's body tense ever so slightly. Johnny was angry and Roy could only hope, for the woman's sake, he kept his temper in check.

"Well," DeSoto said, giving the woman a small, reassuring smile. "It looks like your thumb may be dislocated, judging from its position and the swelling. Nothing too serious, but something you should definitely have a doctor look at," he advised as he gently probed the injured joint. Looking up again, his gaze fell upon a cut that ran across the woman's cheekbone. "I think we should also tend to those cuts."

"No, no," she stammered. "That's completely unnecessary. I'm fine, really."

"But..." Johnny started. He didn't like the idea of leaving the woman alone with her husband and hoped they would find some reason to take her to the hospital.

"She said no!" The man almost screamed at them. "Don't you think you've taken up enough of our time?" Reaching out a beefy hand to grab his wife, he pulled her back behind him.

Roy and John stood in shocked silence as the door closed with a resounding slam. Raising his hand to knock once more, Johnny stopped when Roy grabbed his arm.

"There's nothing we can do. It's between husband and wife. And it'll stay that way until she's ready to do something about it. Or if the worst happens."

Johnny and Roy walked back to the squad in silence. The revulsion they felt for the scene they just witnessed ruined any possibility of conversation. Taking the drug box from his partner, Gage stowed it away in the compartment along with the other equipment. The same look of defeat that he had seen in his friend's eyes when they had started their shift was still there. He could only guess what thoughts were going through Roy's mind. It couldn't have been easy for him to witness the results of this domestic dispute when his own marriage was in such turmoil. Leaning an arm on the cool metal of the squad, Johnny rested his forehead against it. The adrenaline rush of the call, spurred on by wanting to knock the husband down himself, was slowly beginning to ebb. He couldn't help but feel that they were making a mistake by not taking some sort of action. Their hands were tied, he knew that, but he didn't like it. With a sigh he opened the squad's door and slid inside next to his partner. Gage glanced at DeSoto. "You ready?"

Beads of perspiration had formed on Roy's forehead, as his hands tightly clutched the steering wheel. Johnny reached over to give him a gentle nudge. "Roy," he called softly.

Glaring at him, Roy looked sharply at his friend. "I heard you," he said, not trying to hide his annoyance. "I don't need you to tell me what to do."

"Uh, okay," Johnny responded quietly, sitting farther back in his seat.

Neither man spoke and an uncomfortable silence filled the squad's cab. Gage watched as his partner struggled to get his anger under control. Roy's reaction had seemed overly severe, and to his thinking, unprovoked. Not for the first time in the last 24 hours did he wonder exactly what was going through his friend's mind.

Three quick beeps from the radio preceded Sam Lanier's inquiry, interrupting their thoughts. "Squad 51, what is your status?"

Johnny reached for the mic, giving Roy a weary smile. "Squad 51, available."

"10-4, 51. Stand by for response." The station's tones sounded and the dispatcher continued. "Squad 51, respond with Engine 51 to 10 Oakwood Crescent. Smoke reported."

"Squad 51, 10-4." Turning to his partner, Gage was relieved to see that DeSoto seemed calmer. He gave a soft laugh, letting Roy know that everything was okay between them. "I was hoping we'd have a quiet shift."

Roy tightened the chinstrap of his helmet before starting the engine. "Something tells me that we aren't going to be that lucky."

Part Two

Engine 51 had reached the scene only minutes before Gage and DeSoto. Kelly and Lopez were pulling hose from the back of the engine as the two paramedics jumped from the squad. Looking over, Marco gave them a quick salute and smile.

"Well, look who's here?" Kelly's good-natured but sarcastic shout reached their ears.

Captain Stanley trotted over to the squad. "Gage! DeSoto!" Both firefighters were pulling on their turnout coats. "Good to see you, guys. We've got smoke coming out of the front upper windows. We don't know yet if anyone is in the house. A neighbour called it in and they weren't sure. "

No sooner had Hank gotten the words out of his mouth when a black-and-white unit pulled up behind the engine. Vince Howard's face was grim as he approached the three men. "What's up, Hank?"

"We've got some smoke coming from the upper floor. No one seems to know if there's anyone in the house, but we're going to work on the assumption that there is." He turned to Roy and John who had just pulled on their air tanks. "I want you two to get in there and take up the search on the second floor. Right now it doesn't look too big and seems to be contained to the bedroom level." Captain Stanley turned to where Kelly and Lopez were hooking up their lines.

"C'mon guys, let's go!"

Howard watched as DeSoto and Gage entered the home. "I guess I’d better see if I can locate the owners." Heading back to his squad car, Vince winced as he once again heard the sound of glass breaking. Whoever the owners of the house were, they weren’t going to be too happy when he did find them.

Johnny and Roy stepped into the front hall. The small open area was just beginning to become hazy with the smoke filtering down from the second floor.

"Doesn’t look too bad," Roy observed as he started up the stairs. "Okay, Johnny, you take the left side of the hall. It’s pretty quiet up there."

Gage nodded as he brushed by his partner, heading for a doorway farther down the corridor. "Yeah, doesn’t look like there’s anyone here." *I hope*, he added to himself. The door to the room was open, giving him a clear view. Toys littered the floor and stuffed animals peered at him with wide-eyed expressions from a shelf. Johnny noted this all in a matter of seconds as his eyes were drawn to the bed. A fire was smoldering in a large pillow that lay at the centre of the mattress. It seemed to be producing more smoke than anything else as the weak flames licked at the material.

"Hey, Roy!" he yelled, pulling off his air mask. "In here." Hearing Roy’s muffled response from another bedroom, Johnny stepped into the room. From the corner of his eye he saw some movement in the far side of the room. The closet door had slowly slid shut. Giving the pillow a quick look to make sure the fire was dwindling out, Gage went to the closet door, pushing it open. Two frightened and tear-streaked faces peered up at him.

"What’d you…?" Roy’s question died away as he saw the source of the smoke. Picking up the pillow, he took it across the hallway to the bathroom, dousing it with water. With a few short strides he was back in the bedroom, watching as his partner tried to console the two children.

With a sigh, Roy picked up the young boy and wiped at the tears that trailed down his cheeks. "Hey now, everything’s going to be all right."

Desoto pulled the handi-talkie from his pocket and raised it to his mouth. "Engine 51, squad 51.

"Go ahead, Roy," answered Stanley.

"We found a pillow fire and have located two children. They're okay."

"10-4,"Cap replied.

The young girl had wrapped her arms around Johnny’s neck and was sobbing into his shoulder. Scooping her up in his arms, Gage gently brushed her hair from her face. "What’s your name, honey?"

At first it didn’t seem if she was going to answer, but she finally took a deep breath and looked down. "Suzie," she answered quietly.

"Suzie, is there anyone else in the house?" Johnny wondered why no one had come looking for the children.

"No, nobody else. Just me and my brother, Bobby." She rubbed a hand at her eyes. "We didn’t mean to, honest."

Roy gave his partner a sharp look and then turned his attention back to the young girl. "Where are your parents, Suzie?"

"Shopping," the young girl sniffed. "They told us to be good." She rubbed at her eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. "We’re sorry."

Smiling at the child, Roy brushed at an errant curl. "It’s not your fault, sweetie. What say that we get you and your brother out of this smoky room. We’ll check you out and then we'll let your mom and dad know what’s happened."

**************************************

Johnny and Roy had just finished the examination of their charges when Vince walked over to join them. He nodded at the paramedics and gave what he hoped was a friendly smile to the children. "I’ll take over fellas. We’ve got people trying to find Suzie and Bobby’s parents so they’ll be staying with me for a little while." Holding out a hand to each of the kids, Howard crouched down in front of them. "We’re going to take good care of you, until your mom and dad get back. Either of you ever ride in a police car?" When both children shook their heads no, he grinned. "Well, let’s get going then."

The paramedics gathered up their gear as Vince ushered the children towards the squad car. Suzie and Bobby turned back to look at Roy and Johnny, waving good-bye and giving their rescuers heart-warming smiles.

"Well, at least these customers seem a little more satisfied than the last," John said. "I just hope they find the parents soon."

Roy only nodded in response. He heard Johnny talking, but wasn't really listening. His mind was too caught up in the thought of two young children being left alone and what might have happened. He always wondered how two people who cared enough to bring children into the world could suddenly stop caring enough to make sure they were safe. His eyes trailed back to the pleasant two-storey home situated in the quiet neighbourhood. This could have been any home on his block. These could have been his kids. And that thought slammed home with a sickening intensity, bringing with it the memories of the previous night.

"Hey, Roy," Cap Stanley called. "How are the kids?

Roy looked up at Cap, but seemed at a loss for words so his partner jumped in to answer.

"They're fine," Johnny covered. "No injuries. They were more scared than anything else..." His words were interrupted by a blast of the police car's siren.

"Oh no," laughed Cap as he watched Vince Howard pull Bobby out from behind the wheel of the patrol car. He had seen the police officer wrestle drunks and break up barroom brawls without breaking a sweat, but it looked like he might have met his match with the two young children. Shaking his head in amusement, he turned his attention back to Gage and DeSoto.

"Uh, Cap? Roy and I are going to make a run to Rampart for supplies, unless you need us."

Stanley slapped the paramedic on the back and followed them as far as the engine. "No, John, you two go ahead. We're going to clean up here and get back to the station, P.D.Q. Stoker's making spaghetti."

"Good deal," Johnny grinned. "We'll definitely be back in time for that. Now, if we were talking about one of Chet's concoctions, hospital food might not sound too bad, after all. See ya, later, Cap." Turning to Roy, his smile faded to be replaced by a look of concern. "Hey, you ready to go?" He placed his hand on his partner's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

"Everything all right?" Johnny asked.

"Yes, why wouldn't it be?" Roy responded.

"Um, no reason. I know you've got a lot on your mind and I just thought that, I mean, back there with Cap you looked, uh, puzzled." Johnny began to stumble over his words." It's okay," he said hurriedly. "I understand."

Irritated, Roy glanced sharply at his partner. He took several steps towards the squad.

"Look, Roy, I didn't mean to…" Johnny started.

"Rampart, right?" DeSoto interrupted.

"Right. You want me to drive?"

Taking a deep breath, Roy swallowed his annoyance. "No, I'm okay."

Johnny rounded the front of the squad and got in the passenger's side, all the while warily watching his partner. Roy slipped in on the other side and turned the key in the ignition. Before putting the truck into gear, he slouched back against his seat and gently banged his head on the wall of the cab. Guilt mixed with frustration as Roy realized that he had acted harshly

"Sorry, Johnny." The sentence came out like a sigh.

"Sorry?" Gage raised an eyebrow at his partner. "About what?"

Turning to look at the other man, DeSoto could only lower his eyes. "Just sorry."

***************************************

Dixie McCall sat scowling at a piece of paper she held in her hand, oblivious to the usual hectic activity going on around her.

"Hiya, Dix!" Johnny's greeting was met with a preoccupied smile.

"Oh, hi." Dixie waved the paper in their faces. "Can you believe the stupidity of some people? I just don't believe it, do you?"

"Ah, no Dix, I don't." Johnny shrugged and looked at his partner. He wasn't sure if the nurse had expected an answer, but felt it would be safer to offer one.

"Well, neither do I," she replied. Slapping the paper down on the counter, Dixie leaned forward and graced the men with a sincere grin. "Now, what can I do for you, gentlemen?"

Johnny pulled the supply list from his pocket and handed it to Nurse McCall. "Thanks, Dix. We've had back to back runs, so we're just going to grab a cup of coffee. We'll be back soon." Gathering up his partner, Gage quickly steered them towards the doctor's lounge before the head nurse could continue with the tirade against the insanity of Rampart's latest administrator. While they did need supplies, their main reason for going to Rampart was to give Roy the chance to talk. With a grateful sigh, he pushed the door open to the lounge. It was empty.

Roy took the cup of coffee that Johnny offered him and sat down at the small table. Sighing, he ran hands through his hair, before wrapping them around the hot mug. "I don’t know where to start."

"Don’t worry, there’s no rush." John dropped into the seat across from his partner. "You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to."

"No, no. I want to tell you," Roy said hastily. "I guess I should explain about last night." He swallowed hard, keeping his eyes focused on the cup in front of him. "I keep going over things in my mind, wondering if they could have been handled better. I don’t know what else I could have done." He looked up at his partner. "You know that Joanne and I have had problems for a couple of months now, right?"

"A couple of months?" Gage was taken by surprise. "I thought this was recent! Why didn’t you say anything?"

"I couldn’t. I thought this would all blow over. At least I hoped it would," Roy admitted. "John, do you remember when I told you about Joanne going through a bout of depression after she lost her father?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it lasted a couple of weeks and then suddenly it was over. Just like that." DeSoto snapped his fingers in front of him and gave a mirthless laugh. "She got up one morning and was her old self again, like nothing happened. I figured she was covering for the kids’ sake...and mine. I tried to be as supportive as I could, letting her know that if she needed to grieve it was okay." Roy took a long breath. As difficult as it was, it helped to talk and set things straight in his mind.

"She just kept saying that she was fine and was over the mourning period. She wanted to move on. I believed her." Roy pushed back his chair. Getting up, he started to pace. "Then things just started to happen."

"What things?" Johnny asked, sensing his friend’s agitation beginning to grow.

"Little things. Subtle. Out of character." DeSoto stopped his pacing to look at his friend. "She started sleeping late. Sometimes the kids would have to wake her to drive them to school. When I asked her about it, she was very apologetic and said it wouldn’t happen again. Once or twice she’d call me at the station to ask me what I wanted for dinner. But when I got home… no dinner. So I’d order out. In fact, one night was kinda embarrassing. Joanne had invited a couple that we met at the kids’ gymnastics class over for dinner. She never told me about it and when that night came she had forgotten the whole thing."

"Was she ever angry or hostile?" John asked.

"No. Not until the night I found out what had caused the sudden changes." Roy shoved his hands into his pockets and studied a spot on the floor. "You know, John," he said, his voice almost a whisper, "we’ve seen it a hundred times at work, but when it happens to you, you don’t recognize it."

John straightened in his chair and placed his cup on the table. "I don’t follow you, Roy."

"You remember that run we had last shift. I think her name was ‘Star’."

"Sure, she was... What a minute! You mean pills?!" Again John was shocked.

Slowly nodding, Roy walked over to the couch and sat down. He dropped his head into his hands and sighed. Neither man spoke for several minutes, until Roy looked up and rubbed the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to ease the growing headache.

"I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it," he continued dejectedly. Rising again, Roy resumed his pacing. "One night, about three weeks ago, Joanne and I were alone in the house. The kids were at a sleepover. So we decided to "make the most" of the evening. Joanne went into the bathroom to change. She called out to me to ask a question so I went in to answer her. That’s when I saw the bottle of anti-depressants." Roy stopped at the table and took a quick drink of his coffee, almost slamming the cup back down. "I asked her how long she had been taking these pills and who prescribed them. Was she under a doctor’s care? I tried not to sound it, but I was upset. And a little scared too. I mean, why didn’t she tell me? What was she hiding?" His voice had risen to almost a shout, startling him. "Joanne didn’t say much. She told me that she had just started the medicine prescribed by her doctor. I was suspicious, but I didn’t press it. Until later. That’s when all hell started breaking loose."

"What do you mean, Roy?" Johnny stared at his partner, having a hard time believing the story he was hearing.

"I remember the doctor had prescribed some medication for Joanne not long after her father’s funeral. Joanne and I talked about it. In fact, she told me she had finished the pills the doctor had given her over a month ago. I know I haven't seen the bottle in the medicine cabinet for a long time. So now I didn’t know what she was taking or where she got it. I wanted answers."

"Did you get any?" Johnny asked quietly.

"One night, about two weeks ago, we had our first really big blow out. I confronted Joanne again, asking if she really got those pills from her physician. I told her that I had asked one of the doctors at the hospital about the medication since she wouldn't give me any answers. She was furious and accused me of spying on her and treating her like a prisoner. Then she slapped me." Roy absently massaged his cheek.

Johnny’s mouth dropped open. "She slapped you?"

Swallowing hard, Roy nodded. "I think that it stunned both of us. She just started to cry and begged me to forgive her. Thank God the kids were asleep," he sighed. "She took me upstairs, gave me the bottle of pills and told me to get rid of them for her. She said that it was over."

"But it wasn’t," Johnny interjected.

"No." Roy’s voice cracked as he once again sat at the table. "Not by a longshot. I guess, by giving me the bottle, it was Joanne’s way of getting me to leave her alone. Things went pretty much back to normal, but only for a while."

Johnny studied his friend’s face, noting the signs of strain. It all sounded so incredible. "What happened next, Roy?"

"Last Tuesday the kids got home from school and found Joanne asleep on the couch. They couldn’t wake her up so they got one of the neighbours. When Joanne finally woke up she told the neighbours that she had the flu and was taking a medicine with codeine in it." Leaning back in the chair, DeSoto rubbed his face with his hands. "I only found out about it a couple of days ago because Chris let it slip. Joanne had sworn the kids to secrecy. So you can probably guess…"

Echoing his friend’s sigh, Johnny supplied, "So you had fight number two."

"Yeah, I confronted her again about the pills and told her to stop lying, and to tell me where she was getting them. More importantly, I wanted to know what she was taking." Roy’s laugh was bitter. "There were no tears this time. She told me to mind my own business and that if I loved her as much as I loved my job maybe there wouldn’t be a problem. She told me to stop playing hero and trying to fix everything, like in Vietnam when I was a medic and now as a firefighter. She said that I wasn't helping her, anyhow. So now it was my fault." His voice took on an angry edge. "We started yelling. I wanted her to see a psychiatrist. Joanne would have no part of it. She said that maybe I was the one who was crazy." Roy paused. He needed to, *wanted* to, finish the story, but his mind recoiled at the memory.

"You all right?" Johnny asked with concern.

"Yeah," Roy replied after a moment. Trying to put together in words what had happened, he fidgeted with his empty coffee mug. When he spoke his eyes remained fixed on the cup. "Joanne said that maybe I was the one who was crazy and then just smiled at me," Roy rasped with a grimace. "Then she laughed and told me to loosen up, saying that maybe the "ludes" would help me too."

"The what?!" Gage asked incredulously.

"Quaaludes."

"But how did she…?"

Roy could only shrug. "I don’t know, Johnny. I just don’t know. At least now I understand the changes, the anger, the sleepiness, the forgetfulness. My God! What was she thinking? Why didn’t she come to me?"

Johnny looked sympathetically at his friend. "Did you find out where Joanne got the pills from?"

"No." Roy shook his head in disgust. "She wouldn’t tell me. Anyway, I had more important things to worry about."

Raising an eyebrow at his friend, Johnny silently indicated for his partner to continue.

"The worst part about the fight is that the kids overheard. Until that point, I hadn’t thought about the impact the situation was having on them. I mean, they never said anything about it, never showed it." Roy’s tone flattened. "But when I heard their bedroom doors open I felt sick, and decided right then and there that my children were not going to be hurt." He stopped and took a shaky breath. "Which brings us to last night. It was about nine o’clock when I got that call at the station, right?"

"Yeah, that’s right." Johnny confirmed. "Cap said that you had to leave on personal business and called Dwyer in to finish your shift."

"I guess you were kind of surprised to find most of the DeSoto clan camped out in your apartment, eh?" Roy smiled.

"Well, I wish I had known that I was having company, I would have cleaned up a little." Johnny grinned at his friend, hoping to ease some of his friend's discomfort.

"Sorry, Johnny, but I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. I couldn’t go home and I didn’t want to call relatives. Besides, there’s no one I trust more."

"Thanks, Roy," Gage responded with feeling. "Same here."

"That call last night was from my kids. Joanne was supposed to have picked them up at the gym at 7:30. At 9:00 p.m. they were still standing on the street waiting for her. Chris said that he tried calling home, but there was no answer. I’ve always told him that if he ever has a problem, to call the station. He's a smart kid." The paramedic blew out a noisy breath. "So, I went to get them. Your apartment was the safest place I could think of. I hope you understand."

"Roy, please don’t apologize." Johnny reached over to grab his partner's wrist and give it a gentle shake. "I was glad to help, man."

"I have to admit that I didn’t know what I was going to do. When you decided to contact your aunt it was like a lifesaver, John. I’ve always heard you talk about her, about what a great lady she is," Roy continued, "and I needed to take the kids somewhere safe until I could talk to Joanne. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you or your aunt."

"Roy, you don’t owe me anything," Gage said reassuringly. "What happened after you dropped the kids off?"

"I went home," DeSoto said flatly. "Oh, yeah, Joanne was there, physically, at least. Mentally, she was completely out of it. I tried to get her to go to the hospital, but that didn’t work. Would you believe that I even considered calling the police? She was getting hysterical." Rubbing his face with his hands, Roy felt as tired and as drained as he was sure he looked. "Once she had calmed down, Joanne remembered about the kids. I told her that they were in a safe place and that they weren’t coming home that night. Joanne must have thought that they were at one of their friends' houses, because she accepted my answer. Until this morning." Sighing, he gave his partner a rueful grin. "Well, now you know everything, pretty much."

Johnny watched as his partner got shakily to his feet. The strain of reliving the trials of the last two months reflected clearly in Roy’s face, aging him. His friend's expression was a mixture of anger and resignation, but the deep lines and the slump of his shoulders told Gage how defeated the man was feeling. Johnny searched for the right words that would offer some sort of comfort.

"Roy, I don’t know what to say." He moved to stand next to his partner. "I mean, I wish I could do more to help. If you want to stay at my place, you know that you’re welcome." Johnny paused. "I’ve even got a new recliner."

Roy gave a weak smile at the memory of the man-eating chair. "I may just take you up on that, but I haven't really had a chance to think. The kid's shouldn't be alone. I'm planning on talking to Joanne again after work, and trying to straighten things out." The shaking of Roy's voice betrayed his sense of conviction. Talking to Joanne was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Why don't you take the day off?" Johnny suggested. "I'll tell Cap that you're under the weather or something."

"No, I want to keep the kid's routine as normal as possible. They're already shaken up enough. Right now, I don’t know what to tell them."

"I understand," John said, rising from his chair. "We’d better get back to the station. Are you going to be okay?"

"I really don’t know," Roy replied. He laughed at the questioning look on his partner’s face. "Hey, don’t worry, you’re still working with the world’s best paramedic. That hasn’t changed."

******************************************

"Well, well, the prodigal sons have returned," Cap said good-naturedly.

"There is some lunch left, right?" Johnny questioned as he opened the oven door. "Hey, where's the spaghetti?"

"Yeah, there's lunch for you, Gage. It's in the fridge," Chet sneered. "Cap told me how much you like my concoctions. I call it eggplant surprise."

"That's 'cause it'll be a surprise if anyone eats it," Marco quipped.

Chet looked at him with mock hurt. "Roy will try it, won't you, pal?" he begged, turning to DeSoto.

"Uh, I just remembered I'm not very hungry," Roy deadpanned as he headed for the door. "I've got to make a phone call."

Turning to leave the kitchen, Roy glanced at Johnny, who nodded that he understood. Captain Stanley noticed the exchange between his two paramedics and called Johnny aside. It wasn't difficult to put things together. There was definitely a problem with his men and he needed to find out its cause.

"Is there something going on that I should know about?" Cap asked.

"Uh, no, sir," Johnny replied, with what he hoped sounded like innocence. "I don't know what you mean."

"Is Roy okay, John?" Hank's voice was stern. "Look, John," he softened his tone, "it's obvious that he's worried about something. You know that if there's anything I can do to help out…"

"Yeah, Cap, I know." Gage gave his superior a reassuring smile. "Roy's just going through a personal problem right now. It's nothing that will interfere with the job." *I hope*.

"If it does, John, I need to know."

Their discussion was cut short by the station tones.

"Station 51, Engine 8, Truck 10. Explosion at a warehouse. 97 Birchwood Road. Time out 13:17."

Captain Stanley reached for the mic. “Station 51, 10-4 KMG365.”

Part Three

Birchwood Road was located in the older, industrial part of town. Most of the area streets were lined with abandoned and dilapidated buildings. Some ready to tumble in a strong wind. It seemed as it wasn't only the business industry that had forgotten the once booming area of town. It appeared that the city had abandoned it, as well. Garbage containers filled to over-flowing, sent refuse fluttering in the hot breeze.

A few curious people stood huddled in doorways or next to broken-down cars, proving that the neighbourhood was not completely deserted. It had become a popular living area for anyone who would rather not be found.

With sirens screaming and echoing in the near-empty street, Mike Stoker brought the engine to a halt in front of a large brick building. Its crumbling façade was marked by several openings that had once held glass for windows. Jumping down from the truck's cab, Stanley walked over to where Officer Vince Howard stood with his partner, Steve Colby.

"What have we got, Vince?"

"I'm not quite sure yet, Hank." Howard pulled off his helmet and wiped at the perspiration that had gathered on his brow. "I know an explosion was called in, but I haven't seen anything that would indicate a problem." Vince paused. "This warehouse was used to store light bulbs and fluorescent tubing. You know, I have seen flashes of light, but nothing that makes me think that there's been an explosion. No flames, or smoke."

"I see," Cap said. "Do you know who called this in?"

"No, the place was deserted when I got here."

"Okay," Stanley sighed. "Thanks, Vince. I'll advise dispatch." He raised the handi-talkie to his mouth. "LA, this is Engine 51."

"Go ahead, 51"

"LA, warehouse fire appears to be a false alarm. Return all units but Squad 51. Engine 51 out thirty minutes."

"10-4, 51"

Pushing the antenna back into the unit, Hank turned at the sound of the squad's siren. Pulling their vehicle in behind the engine, Johnny and Roy approached their co-workers. Standing in a semi-circle, the firefighters listened to Hank's instructions.

"It looks like we may have a false alarm, but we're going to make a quick sweep of the building, just in case. Chet, I want you and Marco to check the perimetre. John, you and Roy will take the inside. We don't know yet if there's anyone in the building. Each team will be taking a police officer with them This area of town doesn't have the best reputation, and I don't want anyone running into trouble."

Looking at Vince, Steve grinned. "Should we flip a coin?" he laughed, then turned towards Chet and Marco. "Okay, boys, let's get on it."

"Well, Vince, it looks like you lucked out," Johnny joked.

Howard's smile was quick. "There's one thing I want to tell you two before we go in. I could hear glass breaking and popping noises every so often. It could be the bulbs bursting from the heat or it could mean someone's inside. So, stick close to me, and watch your step."

"That means be extra careful," Hank cautioned.

"We will," Johnny assured him. "Just give us a minute to grab our gear, Vince."

**************************************

Slowly entering the building, Johnny, Vince and Roy found it necessary to navigate around the shattered glass and debris that littered the warehouse floor. Cardboard boxes, which had been strewn throughout the building, frequently blocked the route. The smell of mold and urine was heavy in the air, assaulting the senses of the three men. Vince had just moved aside a large carton from the middle of the aisle when a creaking sound coming from the catwalk overhead made them stop. Johnny, flashlight in hand, shone the beam up to the general area of the noise. Scanning the length of the walkway, the strong light came to rest on two figures. A couple of young men stood looking down at them; both appeared to be in their late teens.

"Hey, I recognize those two," Vince realized. "They call themselves Thor and Sinbad. Junkies. They're probably the ones behind the exploding lights." Knowing the teens' histories, Vince slowly removed his gun from its holster.

"Well, maybe, Vince, but they seen pretty quiet now," Johnny observed. He shot a quick glance at Roy to see how he was reacting to the situation. *So far, so good*, he thought. "Vince," Johnny whispered just loud enough for his companions to hear, "I'm going to go up ahead a bit to get a better look."

***********************************

Outside, Captain Stanley paced the length of Big Red, waiting for his men to return. He looked up at Mike Stoker sitting calmly behind the wheel of the engine and found himself grinning. *I used to be like that*.

"Cap, here comes Chet and Marco with Colby," Mike said, motioning towards the south side of the building.

"Anything?" Cap called to the three men as they trotted towards him.

"Nothing," Chet and Marco responded together. Kelly snorted in disgust as he peeled off his turnout coat. "I think we wasted our time there. It was really deserted."

"No hot spots, no flashes, nobody," Marco added with a nod. "Do you want us to go help Johnny and Roy?"

"No, Marco. You and Chet stay here. They should be out soon," Captain Stanley answered. Squinting across the distance to the entrance of the warehouse, he saw no signs of his paramedics or Vince Howard. "So, what do you think, Steve?"

Steve sighed and shrugged. "Probably kids playing pranks."

"Yeah, that's how these things usually end up," Cap agreed. "I'll give my men a few more minutes, and then I'm pulling them out."

*************************************

"Johnny, not too far," Vince called out in a low voice.

"Hey, Officer Howard," called a voice from the catwalk. "Is that you, man?"

"Yes, Thor, that's right. Why don't you and Sinbad come down here so we can talk?"

"Hey, Howie!" The hysterical giggle reached Vince's ears, making him tense. "I got something for ya!" Picking up a fluorescent light tube, Thor hurled it at the police officer. "See, man, lightning. I am Thor!" he screamed.

The fluorescent tube exploded in front of Vince, throwing blinding residue and glass shards into his face. Trying to avoid the debris, Howard was thrown off balance when his foot caught on a floor panel. His arms flailed about as he tried to regain his balance. In a reflex action, his grip on the revolver tightened and his finger drew down on the trigger. The silence of the warehouse was broken once again by a shattering crash, but this time it was accompanied by the sharp blast of a gun. The sound echoed through the building, quickly followed by a cry of pain and the thud of a body hitting the floor.

The explosive flash of the lighting tube triggered another explosion. This time in Roy DeSoto’s already distressed mind. The paramedic, whose behaviour had been restrained until this point, became suddenly frantic. Diving behind a crate, Roy lay back against the wood and attempted to slow his breathing. He glanced down at his shaking hands.

"Johnny!" Roy yelled. He waited for a response, but heard nothing. Pushing himself up, he ran to where the tube had shattered, stopping to take a cursory look at Vince. The officer was moaning softly, as he lay huddled on the cold floor, his hands covering his eyes and face. Torn between the two injured men, all thought of helping the downed policeman seemed to leave the paramedic’s mind. Not taking the time to even check on Vince’s condition, Roy picked up the gun and hurried over to where his partner lay writhing on the ground in pain. Falling to his knees next to Gage, DeSoto saw the dark streams of blood that seeped from a wound to Johnny's abdomen. It flowed through the injured paramedic's fingers to pool at his side.

"Don't worry," Roy comforted, "you'll be safe with me. I'll protect you."

Johnny peered at his partner through a haze of pain, not understanding what he was hearing. "Roy, what…what are you talking about?"

"I've got to get you to safety," DeSoto said more to himself than to his friend. "Then I'll advise of our position." He quickly slipped the gun into the waistband of his pants.

"What?" Johnny gasped. "Roy, please…need help."

Grabbing Johnny by the shoulders, Roy began to drag him to a secluded corner of the building. "Sorry, but I've got to move you. This area's not secure. Soon as we get some cover then I can help you."

***********************************

Hank Stanley looked at his watch for the seventh time in three minutes. "Okay boys, time’s up," he decided. Picking up the handi-talkie, he called his paramedics. "HT-51, this is Engine 51." Releasing the button, he waited for an answer. "HT-51," the captain repeated with more urgency when he received no answer. "This is Engine 51, do you copy?" This time he got a response, but an unexpected one.

"Over here!" A weak voice called from the entrance to the warehouse.

Vince Howard staggered from the building, shielding his injured eyes from the bright afternoon sun. Running to meet him, the crew of 51 and his partner reached Vince as he began to sink to his knees. With a relieved sigh, he felt Mike Stoker’s grip around his shoulders, and let the engineer help him to the ground. Howard looked at the group surrounding him, feeling somewhat dazed, but slowly regaining his bearings.

"What in the world happened?" Steve asked.

"Where are Johnny and Roy?" Cap demanded.

"It all happened so fast," Vince started, taking a deep breath. "We were walking through the building and hadn't gone too far when we heard a noise."

"What kind of noise?" Steve questioned.

"There was someone up on the catwalk. It was Thor and Sinbad." The policeman blinked tearing eyes at his partner. "You remember them, right, Steve?"

"Yes, Vince, I do."

"But that doesn't explain where my men are!" Cap interrupted.

"I know, Hank," Vince said sagging against the wall of the building. "Let me finish. I started to talk to Thor when something exploded in front of me. There was a bright light and then I couldn't see."

Chet knelt down beside Vince and took a closer look at the police officer's eyes. Small cuts around his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, which were bleeding slightly, were evident. The actual damage around the eyes seemed minimal.

"Vince, are you having trouble seeing now? Blurred or double vision?" Chet asked.

"No…no. I saw that punk throw something at me and got my arms up in time." Howard dabbed at a track of blood on his cheek. "Almost in time, I guess."

"Any pain?" Chet asked as he continued to check the police officer.

Stanley, realizing that Howard might have more serious injuries than they could detect, turned to Stoker. "Mike, I want you to contact dispatch. Advise them to send another squad." Hank ordered.

"I'm okay," Vince protested, grabbing Stoker by the pant leg. "You don’t need to call anyone."

Visibly relieved that his partner was feeling well enough to argue with the fire crew, Colby sat back on his haunches and smiled. He had been feeling guilty that he hadn’t been there to cover his partner’s back. Suddenly, not quite sure why he looked, or even noticed it, that relief was soon replaced with dread. "Vince? Where's your gun?"

Looking up, Vince's hand went to his side and gripped his empty holster. "I remember taking my gun out, but then there was the explosion. Oh, God…I think I heard it go off." His eyes widened as he looked at his partner. "I'm not sure!"

"I'm calling for backup," Steve yelled as he ran back to his squad car.

******************************

Pulling Johnny behind a large crate, Roy gently laid his friend's head on some soft packaging material. He looked at him worriedly. Training as a medic, coupled with instinct, told him that Gage’s wounds were probably more serious than he could treat in the field. And he was stuck--under enemy fire with no equipment.

"How you feeling, pal?" Roy asked while quickly glancing down at Johnny's nametag.

"Hurts, Roy," Gage answered weakly. "Sleepy."

"I know it does," DeSoto said gently. "Just stay with me, okay?" Brushing away the dark hair matted to Johnny's forehead, Roy frowned as he felt the cool clammy skin. "I'm going to try and stop the bleeding." Roy unbuttoned his uniform jacket and then removed his shirt. Taking the blue material, he quickly folded it into a pressure bandage. His next step was to remove his belt to use as a tourniquet. "Now, I'm going to have to slide this belt around you. It may hurt some. Are you ready?"

Moaning softly, Johnny took in a sharp breath as he was lifted from the ground. Working as gently as he could, Roy slid the belt under the other man, fastening it securely to provide added pressure to control the bleeding. "There, that went pretty well," DeSoto said as he closely watched his patient.

Trying to focus on Roy, Gage felt his consciousness begin to fade. This was all wrong. He should be on his way to the hospital, not lying in some abandoned building. "Roy, call Rampart. Please." He pulled feebly at his friend’s jacket sleeve. "Why…why are we here?"

Leaning over Johnny, Roy used his hand to wipe away the sheen of perspiration that covered the wounded man’s face. "I'm contacting the field hospital now. Don't worry, soldier," he said kindly. "I'm a medic. I'll get you out of here."

"Soldier?" An uneasy feeling filled Johnny's mind at the sound of Roy's words. "Roy, where are we?"

"We're in Saigon. The TET Offensive. You’re lucky I came in here for cover when the shooting started. They may have never found you. All hell's breaking loose out there." Pulling the gun out, he waved it in the air between them. "But don’t worry, we’ll be okay until help gets here."

*Oh God*, Johnny thought. The waves of pain were making it difficult to concentrate. Still, he knew he had to try for both their sakes. "No, Roy. The war is over. We're in a warehouse. You're a firefighter." He watched as the other man shook his head and started to speak. "Please listen to me, Roy!" Having exhausted what strength he had left, Johnny lapsed into unconsciousness.

Part Four

"Backup is on its way," Steve reported.

"Vince, please think," Captain Stanley said. "Did you fire your gun? Is anyone hurt? Why haven't Johnny and Roy come out?" The professional tone of Hank's voice was quickly being pushed aside by panic and worry.

"I'm not sure, Hank. I wish I was. I…" He stopped as the sound of sirens reached his ears.

Squad 99, along with two patrol cars, had arrived on the scene. The doors to the squad flew open as the two paramedics emerged to get their equipment. Hefting the bio-phone and med-boxes they made their way to where the crew of 51 waited with Vince Howard.

Tom Alexander, the senior team member, lifted the receiver on the bio-phone. "Rampart, this is Squad 99." He made the connection all the while listening to Chet Kelly’s summary the police officer’s condition.

"Go ahead, 99" responded Dr. Bracket.

Alexander quickly reported the findings of his examination as well as what Kelly had told them when they had arrived. With an exasperated sigh, he also informed Rampart that the patient was refusing to go to the hospital. Tom could tell that Brackett wasn’t happy about Vince’s refusal. Since there was nothing that either of them could do about that, the paramedic relayed the doctor’s instructions to his partner, Drew Robbins, and advised the patient to see his personal physician if any headaches or problems with his vision should start to develop.

That done, Alexander turned to Stanley. "Well, always a pleasure, Cap, but where are your boys? Coffee break?" He was immediately sorry for the flip remark when he saw the captain’s expression. He had at first thought that Hank looked pre-occupied, but at a closer glance he could see the worry that was etched around the other man’s eyes and mouth. The mystery that surrounded the missing paramedics explained the tension that Tom and his partner had felt since their arrival on the scene.

"Tom? Drew?" Stanley rubbed at the knot that was building in his neck and shoulders. "I want you to stick around. I have a feeling we’re going to need you."

Moving to stand next to Hank, Drew nodded sympathetically. "No problem, Cap. We’re here for as long as you need us."

The three firefighters turned to see Vince's partner approach, accompanied by a second police officer.

"Captain Logan, this is Captain Stanley," Steve said.

"Is Vince all right?" Logan asked as he shook hands with Stanley.

Raising his hand at Howard when he saw him start to answer, Colby gave his friend a smirk. "No offence, buddy, but we’d like a medical opinion on this one."

"Pig-headed, but okay," Tom nodded. "Just make sure he sees his doctor soon."

With a relieved smile, Colby gave Howard a knowing glance. "You can count on it".

Logan addressed Stanley. "Steve has explained the situation. Since your men haven't come out yet, we may be facing a hostage situation." He turned to Vince. "Howard, did you hear any other gunfire other than you own?"

"No, sir." The events were still a blur, but the officer was certain that he had only heard the one shot. Almost certain.

"Do you have any idea, where you dropped your gun?"

Wincing, Vince raised his hand to his forehead, rubbing it gently. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure." He looked at his partner while struggling to his feet. "Steve, I want in on this. I know where Thor and Sinbad were hiding."

"I'm sorry, Vince. I can't let you do that," Logan said. He waved the remaining officers closer. "Vince, I want you to explain exactly where you last saw Thor and Sinbad." He turned to Captain Stanley. "Once we've located them and have secured the building, we can get your men out."

*Well, at least, someone is doing something!* Looking helplessly at the handi-talkie in his hand. Captain Stanley decided to try and contact DeSoto and Gage once again. Every frightening scenario that his mind could deliver about his men being trapped in the building with two known drug users had his stomach rolling. Closing his eyes and saying a silent prayer, he raised the radio to his lips. "HT 51, this is Engine 51. Do you copy?" A familiar silence was all he heard. "Johnny? Roy? Can you hear me?" Not anticipating a response, Hank was taken by surprise at the hushed sound of Roy DeSoto's voice.

"We copy, over."

Gripping the handi-talking tightly, Stanley waved the others closer so that they could hear, as well. "Roy, are you trapped? Can you tell us your general vicinity? Are either of you hurt?" The questions were delivered in rapid fire. He had been in the dark so long about Johnny and Roy’s whereabouts that he had barely given DeSoto a chance to answer. "You just sit tight, Roy, we’re coming in." The momentary relief that Cap felt was soon erased by the paramedic's cryptic response.

"Is this channel secure? Identify yourself." Roy’s answer was a terse whisper that sent a chill down Stanley’s spine.

Staring incredulously at the handi-talkie, Hank tried to make sense of what he was hearing. Secure channel? Identify himself? He paused before speaking again, setting his jaw firmly. "This is Captain Stanley. DeSoto, what the hell is going on? Let me talk to Gage…now!"

There was a long pause before the captain received a response. "You can't talk to him. He's unconscious. Gage has been shot…it looks pretty bad."

The men, who had been listening intently to Roy's transmission, now exchanged looks of shock.

"Oh, God!" Vince said. "My gun."

"All right," Logan ordered, "get ready to move in."

"Cap, you wanna try raising them again?"

With a nod, Stanley thumbed the call button. "Roy, what's your location?"

"We're in the northeast sector of the building." DeSoto’s voice was still a hoarse whisper, and Cap wasn’t sure, but he thought he could hear Gage moaning.

With confirmation of the location, Logan nodded to Colby to proceed.

Motioning the other officers to follow him, Steve proceeded into the vacant warehouse. He raised a finger to his lips and pointed towards the back of the large storage room. "If you’ve got a flashlight, keep it aimed at the floor in front of us. We don’t need to be anybody’s target."

The firefighters watched the police officers move quickly and quietly into the deeper shadows of the building.

"We should be in there," Chet protested.

Stanley looked at him sympathetically. "We will be, Chet, we will. But the police need a chance to do their job."

Lowering his head, Kelly turned and began to pace. He occasionally stopped to glance toward the warehouse entrance. His wait was cut short by a crackle from the police radio. Chet looked in Logan's direction.

The police captain smiled as he listened to the transmission. "Yeah! We've got them. It's over. Let's go get your paramedics."

***************************************

Kelly's and Alexander’s lights played along the path in front of the group of firefighters. Suddenly Chet grabbed the captain’s arm and pointed to a dark stain on the floor ahead.

"Cap, I think that's blood!" Chet exclaimed. "Where are they?"

Laying a hand on Stanley’s arm as the headed for DeSoto and Gage, Tom said, "Cap, try to get more details on Johnny's condition. We’ll start advising Rampart."

With a sigh, Hank Stanley once again called his paramedic. He was as worried about the man’s mental condition as he was Gage’s physical condition. He hoped that whatever world DeSoto’s mind had plunged into would allow the rest of them to enter. Both his paramedics needed help. "Roy, this is Captain Stanley."

Roy’s tense voice filled the silence. "Are you under fire, sir?"

Hank was unsure as to how he should explain the situation, considering Roy's state of mind. He shrugged his shoulders and looked at the others hoping for some direction.

"Cap," Chet offered, "tell him we exchanged some enemy fire and the area is now secure."

Acting on Kelly’s suggestion, the captain repeated the suggestion. The entire group breathed a sigh of relief when DeSoto seemed to accept that answer. More importantly, he was ready to accept their help. With that knowledge, Stanley felt safe in pressing about Gage’s condition.

The paramedic’s answer was less than encouraging. "Well, he's been bleeding a lot and drifting in and out of consciousness," Roy reported. "I'm doing all I can."

"We know you are, pal," Hank reassured him. "We're on our way." Turning to Tom and Drew, Hank asked if they had heard what DeSoto had said.

"I'm sure Roy's trying his best, but considering that they have no equipment, and the amount of blood loss, we better be ready for anything," Alexander explained.

Not quite ready to have anyone voice the fear he knew was going through the minds of Station 51’s men, Kelly couldn’t hide his annoyance. "Don't you think we know that?" he snapped.

"I know, Chet. I'm sorry. I just meant that…" Tom left the sentence unfinished. "Drew, set up the bio-phone and advise Rampart to stand-by."

Reaching the northeast corner of the building, Captain Stanley searched through the gloom for his paramedics. "Roy, Johnny, where are you?" Hearing a noise over his left shoulder, Cap turned to find Roy DeSoto standing before him, the revolver clutched in his hand. Even in the dim light, he could see the uncertainty and confusion on the younger man’s face.

Chet was the first to speak, reaching out a hand to Roy. "Hey, man," he called softly. "It's okay. You don't need the gun anymore. We're here to take care of everything now."

Roy blinked a couple of times and stared hard at the men surrounding him. He let his shoulders sag with relief. Lowering his eyes, he scrubbed at his face and let out a sigh. "Thank God, you’re here." As he slowly raised his eyes and scanned the faces that peered at him with so much concern, DeSoto saw them again as if for the first time. "Chet? Cap? What's going on?"

With a forced smile Kelly took a step towards the confused paramedic, placing a friendly hand on his arm. "Everything’s okay now, Roy. It’s okay."

Feeling the same relief as Kelly, Stanley hadn’t forgotten the urgency of the situation. They needed to get to Gage. "Roy, tell us where Johnny is," Captain Stanley ordered, hoping that DeSoto would respond to the stern command. He still looked to be caught between the two worlds in which he had been living.

Remembering his wounded partner, Roy's eyes opened wide with fear. "He's back there." Finally feeling the weight of the cold steel in his hand, he looked down at the gun. He turned a stricken look to each of the other men. "You don't think I shot Johnny, do you?" he gasped. "I couldn't...I would never hurt him." He looked frantically from one man to the next. "You've got to believe me!"

Taking DeSoto by the arm, Kelly guided him to an overturned crate. "We believe you," Chet soothed and motioned for him to sit down. "C’mon, Roy, you sit here and wait while we check on Johnny." He gently took the gun from the paramedic’s hand and gingerly passed it to Colby.

"But I need to see Johnny to…" Roy began, his voice shaking from emotional exhaustion and worry. Bracing himself against the crate, DeSoto started to get up to follow the others to Gage’s side. Bewildered, he looked down at the hand that held him back, guiding him once again to sit.

"Take it easy, Roy," Steve said kindly. "They’re going to help your partner."

Satisfied that Roy would be safe in Colby’s care, Kelly went to join Stanley. He bit down on a gasp as he first caught sight of Gage. Not taking his eyes from the pale and still form of his friend, he joined the captain, kneeling down at the injured man's side.

Reaching out a hand, Stanley gently laid it on Gage’s arm. "Johnny, can you hear me?" he asked softly.

Gage's eyes fluttered open after a few seconds; his gaze remaining unfixed. Blinking hard, he looked for the source of the voice. "Cap?" The one word was a painful wheeze.

"Right here, pal." Allowing himself a small smile, Stanley leaned closer. Oblivious to the actions of the two paramedics that flanked him on each side, Gage tried desperately to focus on his captain, as if the contact provided a lifeline. Not willing to sever that connection himself, Hank held on tightly to his friend’s hand. "Johnny, do you remember what happened?" Cap asked softly.

Swallowing hard, Johnny tried to speak. "Roy…Roy…" His paused and tried again, his dry throat screaming for water. "Um, gunshot. Roy…dreaming," he rasped. "Thirsty, Cap."

Hank looked at Drew, who shook his head with regret. "We can't, not with an abdominal wound."

"Sorry, pal, soon though," Cap comforted him. Seeing that Gage’s eyes were once again losing their focus, Stanley feared that Johnny would soon lapse into unconsciousness. He needed to ask his questions before that happened. He needed an answer as much for Roy’s sake as his own. "Johnny, do you know who shot you? Was it Roy?" Holding his breath, Hank waited for the answer.

Gage’s eyes widened and he shook his head. "No…no, Roy…protecting me. Trying to help." Johnny's body stiffened as a spasm of pain overcame him, his hand wrapping more tightly around Stanley’s. "Trying to help…" The last words faded in a sigh as his conscious mind slipped into blackness.

Tom Alexander crouched down next to the captain. "You gotta let us in there, Cap."

Taking one more look at Gage, Stanley stood up. "Take good care of him."

Nodding his acknowledgment, Robbins raised the handset on the bio-phone. "Rampart, this is Squad, 99. How do you read?"

"We read you loud and clear," responded the professional voice of Dixie McCall.

"Rampart, we have a male victim, 29 years old. He has a gunshot wound to the upper right quadrant of the abdomen. There appears to have been considerable blood loss."

Part Five

"10-4, 99. Stand-by." Reaching for the internal line, Dixie spoke sharply into the phone. "Get me Dr. Bracket or Dr. Early, stat." Replacing the receiver in the cradle, she pressed the com button. "99,what are the victim's vitals?"

"Pulse is 118. BP, 90/70." The tension in the paramedic’s voice was evident. "Respirations are 22. Pupils are equal and reactive."

Looking up from her notes, Dixie watched Dr. Joe Early approach the desk.

"What have we got, Dix?"

"Squad 99 has a gunshot victim." The nurse handed Early the notebook. Leaning past the doctor, she depressed the speaker. "Stand-by 99."

Taking the pad from Nurse McCall and reviewing the vitals, Joe began his instructions to the paramedics."99 start the patient on 3 litres of oxygen. Has the bleeding been controlled?"

"10-4, Rampart. We have applied a sterile dressing and are maintaining pressure," Robbins confirmed.

Nodding his approval, Joe continued, "Start an IV, 2000ml Ringer's Lactate. Have you checked for an exit wound?"

*********************************

Robbin’s spoke quickly into the receiver as he watched his partner take the IV bag from the drug kit. With ease from years of practice, Tom inserted the needle into Johnny's arm, and attached the line, speaking quietly to his patient when Gage reacted with a soft moan.

"Affirmative," Drew replied. "We’ve checked. There is no exit wound. We’ve started the IV with Ringer's, Rampart."

"99, have you identified the patient?" Early’s voice echoed in the large storage area. "We need to get a blood type. Also, do you know the type of weapon?"

"Rampart, the weapon was a .38 calibre service revolver. The victim is paramedic, John Gage."

******************************

Joe and Dixie looked at each other in disbelief. Folding his arms across his chest and staring down at the floor, Dr. Early shook his head. With a sigh, he contacted the paramedics. "Is the patient conscious?"

"Negative, Rampart," Drew responded, his voice becoming louder as he tried to talk over the wail of a siren. "Ambulance is now at scene."

"10-4, 99. Stabilize and transport immediately. What's your E.T.A.?" Joe asked.

"Approximately ten minutes."

"We'll be ready."

"10-4, Rampart."

Listening to the end of squad 99's transmission, Joe leaned heavily on the counter. The identity of the patient had stunned both him and McCall.

"I can't believe it," Dixie said weakly, going to sit at the desk. "How could this happen?"

"You know, Dix," Joe started," there are times I hate this job. You better have Treatment Two set up. Prepare six units of O negative." Early mentally ran down what they would need for when Gage arrived. "I'll alert the OR for an emergency laporotomy. I think Henderson is available."

Pushing herself away from the counter, Dixie headed toward the treatment room. "I'm on my way, Joe." Rampart would be ready for when Johnny arrived. One thought that had occurred to her as she listened to Early and Squad 99 was that there had been no mention of DeSoto. She could only hope that the other paramedic was all right.

***********************************

"Okay, Cap, that's it," Drew said. "We're moving him now."

"How's it look, Tom?" Chet asked.

Alexander's face was grim. Shaking his head, he looked down at the blood soaked remains of DeSoto's uniform shirt. "It wasn't much of a bandage, I’m afraid. Johnny's vitals are pretty erratic." Seeing the looks on both Stanley’s and Kelly’s faces, he tried to smile encouragingly. "It's going to be tough, guys, but the doctors at Rampart are the best. I know I don’t have to tell you that. They'll take good care of him." Sighing heavily, he watched as the ambulance pulled away. "I'm sorry I don't have better news." Bending down to pick up the remainder of the equipment, Alexander started back to his squad. "Drew's gone in with him, so I better head out. I’ll meet up with you at Rampart."

Standing in silence, Captain Stanley and Chet Kelly tried to comprehend the events of the past few hours. Almost forgotten in their concern for Johnny, Chet gestured towards Roy. Both men walked over to where DeSoto still sat with Colby. The man looked completely lost.

"It's okay, Steve," Cap said. "We'll take it from here."

The policeman looked reluctant to leave. "I still have some questions."

"Not now, man," Chet gritted out. "Please?" he added gently.

Opening his mouth to protest, Steve instead chose to close his notebook. He knew that DeSoto would be hurting and concerned only with finding out about his partner. "All right, later then." He turned to leave. Before he did, though, he turned to Roy. “I’m going to need to talk to you. You know that, Roy.” His only answer was a weak nod. DeSoto didn't raise his eyes to look at him.

"Chet," Cap said quietly, "why don't you go with Steve. Roy and I will be right behind you."

Realizing that his captain wanted to give Roy some time alone, Chet followed Colby out to the waiting crew of 51. "Right, Cap, I’ll tell the guys."

Hank Stanley turned to the devastated man sitting before him. This was someone far different from the Roy DeSoto he knew. "Roy?” he asked softly. “Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, Cap."

"C'mon, we'll take you to the hospital." He watched Roy get to his feet. The paramedic’s movements were more like a man twice his age. Fatigue and stress had bent his shoulders and head. "I think we had better talk."

Nodding dejectedly, DeSoto still hadn’t made eye contact. "Cap?" he asked quietly. "How is he?"

"Not good, Roy." Captain Stanley felt his anger rising at the senselessness of the whole situation. If Johnny died, Hank knew that he would lose both his paramedics. DeSoto would blame himself. Noting the look of despair that clouded Roy's features, Cap's anger was easily replaced by empathy and pity. *My God, what have you been going through? How did it get this far?*

The paramedic sensed that his captain was watching him as they neared the building's exit, waiting for some kind of explanation of what had happened. Taking several steps ahead of his captain, Roy stopped and turned. "Hank, I'm sorry," he said, swallowing hard. "I just can't explain anything right now." He knew that Stanley wanted answers. The man deserved answers. He just didn’t have any to give.

Hank Stanley realized that to press would be futile. He looked in Chet's direction. "Kelly, take Roy to the hospital in the squad. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Part Six

The ambulance attendant, along with Drew Robbins, carefully lifted the stretcher bearing John Gage onto the waiting gurney. Dixie McCall’s heart fell at seeing Robbins’ strained expression. It said everything that she needed to know. Johnny’s condition had deteriorated on the way in.

Hurrying along side the gurney, Dixie directed the men to the examination room. "Treatment two is set up." Taking a quick glance at Gage as he was wheeled past her into the room, she inwardly cringed at his pallor. It was unsettling to see his normally animated features so slack and lifeless. Before letting the door swing shut behind her, she searched the halls one more time. Where was Roy?

Dr. Joe Early stood waiting just inside the door to the treatment room. "Any further changes on the way in?" he questioned as he helped transfer the patient to the examining table.

"Blood pressure dropped to 85/60," Drew replied. "Temperature is 102, respiration's 22. Pulse is 120. He regained consciousness for a few minutes on the ride in but slipped right back again."

"How long before he received medical attention?" Joe asked.

"I'm not sure, Doc. It could have been an hour, maybe more," Drew shrugged. He stepped towards the door. "Doc, do you need me?"

"No, Drew, thanks." Joe paused then quickly looked around the room. "Wait, where's Roy? Can he explain what's happened?" Drew began to answer but Dr. Early raised his hand, motioning for him to wait. "Dixie, administer 2 g. Mefoxin, and hang another bag of Ringer's," Joe ordered. " Start another unit of whole blood." He turned his attention back to the paramedic.

"Roy's on his way." Robbins felt decidedly uncomfortable in trying to explain what had gone on at the warehouse. "He can probably tell you what happened. I'm not really clear on the facts, myself. When Tom and I got to the scene, the cops were already there. Captain Stanley said that some guys were hiding out in the building and that Roy and Johnny were trapped inside. That's all I know."

"Okay, Drew, I'll talk to Roy," Joe said.

Before leaving, Robbins stopped to take one more look at his patient. "Doc? How bad is it?"

"It's hard to say without knowing the direct path of the bullet," Early replied as he probed the wound in Gage’s abdomen. "Judging by the entrance path, it may have lacerated the liver. But there could be some blast effect. We'll know more once we debride the wound and get him into surgery." He glanced over his shoulder at the paramedic. "I’m sorry, Drew, but that’s about all I can tell you."

Leaving the examination room, Drew headed in the direction of the nurse's station where his partner waited for him.

"How's Johnny?" Tom didn't like the look on his partner's face and was prepared to hear the worse.

"Can't really say yet, though it looks like things are going to be rough," Drew replied. "Hey, look." Tapping Tom on the arm, he pointed down the hallway as Chet Kelly and Roy DeSoto approached them.

"Where is he?" Roy asked. His question sounded somewhere between a plea and a demand.

"Treatment Two." Tom grabbed DeSoto's arm before he could walk away. "Roy, we just want you to know that we're all pulling for Johnny."

Roy looked at Tom as if he hadn’t really heard what had been said to him. "Yeah, thanks," he finally answered bleakly and then started down the corridor.

Sighing, Chet looked from Alexander to Robbins. "This has got to be the worst day of my career." His fist came down hard on the desk at the nurse’s station. "Damn."

"Chet, is Roy okay?" Tom asked, concern marking his handsome features.

"Well, Tom, that depends on Johnny."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Alexander agreed solemnly.

Chet nodded. "I gotta get back to the Station. Captain Stanley should be here soon. Tell Roy, that, that…" He left the sentence unfinished.

***********************************

Softly pushing the door open, Roy stepped unnoticed into Treatment Two. His breath caught in his throat as he watched the scene before him. Steeling himself, he moved closer to where his partner lay.

"Roy, come here." Dr. Early looked up. "I need your help." He straightened up from where he had been hunched over Johnny. 'We've got to insert a nasogastric tube and I want you to hold John's head still."

Once he was sure that Roy was in position, Joe gently guided the Levin tube into his patient. Johnny's body tensed at the procedure as the insertion caused him to retch. Recognizing the signs, Roy quickly turned his friend's head as Johnny began to vomit. Startled by this reaction, DeSoto looked questioningly at Dr. Early.

"I know Roy, but we've got to depress his stomach. This will prevent any aspirations under anesthesia," he explained. "Make sure his airway is clear." Wiping his hands, he looked to Nurse McCall. "Dixie, can you get me an updated set of vitals?"

"Right away, Joe."

Dixie slipped the BP cuff around Johnny's arm and pumped the ball in her hand. Raising her head, she pulled the stethoscope from her ears and looked sadly at the anxious expression on Roy's face. Dixie shook her head slowly. "B/P is still 85/60, pulse 110, respiration's 20. His temperature is holding at 102."

"And I'm still reading tachycardia," Joe added. "He's going into shock. We can't wait any longer, there may be hemorrhaging. Call the OR and tell them we're on our way."

Roy quickly moved to his friend’s side. Placing his hand on his partner’s, he leaned down to whisper to him. "Okay, pal, we're almost there. I know you can do this, Johnny." His voice cracked and he closed his eyes, silently praying that his friend could hear him. "I’m counting on you."

Roy felt the grip tighten around his fingers and looked up at Johnny's half-opened eyes. "He's awake!" Roy called to Joe and Dixie. Turning his attention back to his friend, Roy once again leaned closer to the examining table. "Hey, pal. Glad to have you back," he said softly.

Smiling weakly, Johnny closed his eyes once more, his hold on Roy's hand going lax.

"Johnny? Johnny!" Roy cried in vain.

Taking hold of DeSoto's shoulders, Dixie gently pulled him back from the table, allowing the orderlies to move Johnny to the operating theatre. Dr. Early followed them out of the room.

"I've got to go," Dixie said. "I'll check back with you as soon as I know something."

Rubbing his face with his hands, Roy slumped back against the cabinets. "Yeah, sure," he mumbled. "I…I’ll be here."

"Roy, what…" It was not until that moment that she noticed that the paramedic wore only his T-shirt under his uniform jacket. Splotches of dried blood stood out in stark contrast against the white cloth. Walking over to Roy, she wrapped him in a sisterly embrace. "I'm so sorry. You were there when it happened?" Dixie asked softly.

Pulling back from the woman, Roy nodded. "It's like a nightmare, Dix, and I can't wake up."

"Don't give up on him," McCall said with feeling. "John Gage has never let us down before and I'm sure he won't this time either. Roy, I've got to go," Dixie repeated, swallowing hard in an attempt to stay calm and wishing she didn’t feel as if she was abandoning DeSoto. The man was her friend and he looked as if he needed someone to be with him now. Hugging him to her, she spoke with conviction. "Roy, I want you to listen to me now. He’s going to make it. You have to believe that."

Roy nodded against her shoulder. "I believe it, Dix. I’ve got to believe it."

*****************************************

Nurse McCall walked out into the hallway, nearly colliding with Captain Stanley.

Hank awkwardly smiled an apology. "I saw them take John to surgery. Can you tell me anything?" Cap asked.

"No, I'm afraid I can't." Sighing, Nurse McCall pointed behind her. "Roy needs you." Dixie glanced at him sadly as she headed for the bank of elevators. "Don’t let him be alone."

Hank looked solemnly at the treatment room door, wondering what waited for him on the other side. Inhaling deeply, he entered. "Roy?"

DeSoto’s head snapped up from where he was slouched against the table. "Did you see Johnny, Cap?" He got up and began to pace the length of the room. "Oh God, did you see him? *I* did that to him," he sighed, jabbing a hard finger into his own chest.

"Roy," Stanley said in exasperation, "you didn't shoot Johnny. I know that and he knows that, too."

Turning his back to Hank, Roy drew in a sharp breath. "But I didn't help him either."

"He told me you tried, Roy."

"Oh sure. I did a great job. I let my best friend almost bleed to death while my mind's off playing little war games." Roy's expression changed, his voice now filled with despair. "What am I going to do if Johnny doesn't make it? I don't think I could handle that."

Hank ran a hand through his dark hair and blew out a noisy breath. "Roy, you’re not going to have to handle anything!" He went to stand next to his friend. "Because nothing is going to happen."

Roy turned towards him, his face crumpling. "I wish I could be that sure, Cap. But right now, I'm not sure about anything. Did you talk to the doctors?"

"No, I asked Nurse McCall, but she couldn't give me any news."

Bowing his head, DeSoto rubbed at his tired eyes, wishing that someone would wake him from this horrible dream. "It's not good, Cap," he said shakily. Looking up at Hank he paused, unable to find his voice. He cleared his throat. "Johnny lost a lot of blood and has been hemorrhaging. It's put a strain on his heart, and that's going to make the operation even harder on him. If only I'd had gotten Johnny to the hospital sooner," Roy lamented.

"Roy, do you remember what happened?" Cap questioned.

"Bits and pieces, feelings mostly." Roy’s voice shook with emotion. "Some of the things Chet told me on the way down helped fill in the blanks. It just doesn't make any sense." He looked pleadingly at his captain. "I thought I was in Vietnam? Am I going crazy?"

"No, Roy, you're not crazy, but maybe you should to talk to someone. I spoke with Dr. Bracket on my way in. He's waiting for you in his office. And, Roy, I want you to get checked out medically too."

"OK, Cap," DeSoto rasped

"Good. Do you want me to come with you?" Stanley asked.

"No thanks, Cap. I'd rather do this on my own."

"OK, pal," Stanley replied. The relief in his voice was audible. Hank knew that Roy blamed himself for Johnny's injuries. He understood his friend's anguish. Captain Stanley realized that Roy wasn't responsible for what had happened, but the anger, as unreasonable as it was, was still there. Two good men had suffered greatly that day and it had happened under his command. Perhaps that’s where some of his anger sat. He felt responsible for at least some of what had transpired, but he knew that there was much more going on with DeSoto. When Johnny was back on his feet, and Roy was feeling better, he planned to have a long and serious talk with the two of them.

"Roy," Stanley tried to offer the paramedic some reassurance. "Johnny's in good hands...the best. We couldn't ask for more."

"I know," Roy replied, appreciating Hank's attempt to console him. He headed towards the door. "If it’s okay, I’d like to see if I can find Dr. Brackett, Cap."

"Sure, go ahead. Roy?" Cap called before DeSoto could leave the room. "Do you want me to phone Joanne for you? I don't mind."

Roy turned sharply towards him, his face a mask of anger. "I *don't* want to talk to her!" Throwing the door open, he quickly stepped into the hall.

Shocked by DeSoto’s vehemence, Hank watched the door swing close. He was dumbfounded by Roy's strong reaction. "What the hell was that?" he said to himself, and let out a low whistle. *I hope the Doc can get through to him.* Leaving the treatment room to contact the station, Cap headed towards the row of phones near the ER's reception desk. A few steps ahead of him, Roy was entering Kelly Bracket's office.

Reaching for the first phone, Hank began to dial the station house's number. He paused and replaced the receiver. Pulling out a notebook he kept in the inside pocket of his uniform jacket, Cap began to flip through the pages. Arriving at the needed information, he once again picked up the receiver. "Here goes," he thought, as he dialed the number. The connection was made and a voice answered after three rings.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Joanne. This is Hank Stanley…"

Das Ende

Author's note: We thought that we'd leave it open. Does Johnny make it? Is Roy nuts? Joanne a junkie? Will anyone eat Chet's eggplant surprise? It's up to you.

Thank you to Mick Jagger & the Rolling Stones' 'Mother's Little Helper'