Honest – an alternative ending

By Rona

There was a resounding crash as Johnny Gage fell through the banisters, landing heavily on the floor below. Somehow, he kept hold of the infant in his arms, breaking the child’s fall and keeping the face mask of his breathing apparatus in place. The air was forced from his lungs and an excruciating pain shot up his back and across his shoulders.

Winded, Johnny struggled helplessly to get up. He knew they had to get out of the house before the flames reached them. Suddenly, there were hands there, taking the squalling child from his arms and other hands helped him to his feet and out of the burning house.

The young mother seated on the blanket near the squad let out a cry of relief as she saw her young son being brought towards her. Gage stumbled along, coughing so hard that Cap worried that he was actually going to cough his lungs out.

As Johnny slumped bonelessly to the ground, the mother cried, “Where’s Grandpa?”

“He… he was… right behind… me,” Johnny coughed. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, fully expecting the old man to be coming down the steps from the house, but there was no one there.  “He… he was… following…” Johnny started.

“He’s blind!” screamed the young woman and the little remaining colour in Johnny’s face drained away.

“I didn’t know!” Johnny protested, struggling to get to his feet. But the action was still beyond him and Cap pushed him down easily enough. “He said he would follow me,” Johnny explained defensively. Cap started to remove the SCBA from Johnny’s back and the young paramedic winced in pain.

“He’s blind!” the woman cried. “How could he follow you?”

“I… I…” Johnny started, but was overcome by a fit of coughing. Cap Stanley thrust an oxygen mask onto Johnny’s face as Roy grabbed his gear and headed for the house. Johnny pushed the mask away. “I didn’t know,” he choked, before the mask was thrust back into place.

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

It only took Roy a few minutes to find the old man and get him out into the air. Johnny was still sitting on the blanket, supervising the woman and child with the oxygen. Roy noticed that Johnny’s soot-streaked face was still pale and the younger man coughed several times. There seemed to Roy to be something off in Johnny’s posture, but he didn’t have time to think about it. The old man needed attention.

At last, they had him stabilised and he was loaded into the ambulance. Cap Stanley went over to the paramedics. “John, I want you to get checked out at Rampart, too,” he ordered. “You took in a lot of smoke.”

“All right,” Johnny agreed. His shoulders were killing him; each time he raised his arms, he felt as though they were going to fall off. He let Cap close the ambulance doors and walked over to the squad. He shrugged off his turnout coat with a great deal of difficulty and no small amount of pain and went to open the door. His left arm refused to move.

A flutter of panic began in Gage’s belly. He raised his right arm, barely containing a gasp of pain at the movement and opened the door. He slid into the driver’s seat and reached for the ignition key. He had no idea how he was going to drive the squad, but he didn’t want to say anything to Cap. After all, he had left a victim behind in a fire. What would his boss think if he then complained about being injured? He would most likely think Johnny was looking for an excuse for his actions. No – Johnny knew he had to carry on as though nothing was wrong.

Starting the engine, he drove away.

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

The drive was indescribably awful. Pain shot through Johnny’s shoulders continuously and sweat beaded his brow. By the time he reached Rampart, he could barely turn the wheel at all and parking beside the ambulance finished him. His left arm lay uselessly in his lap and his right was quickly seizing up. Twisting, he managed to get the door open and slid out.

Walking carefully into the ER, he sought to look nonchalant, little realising that the sweat had smeared the soot on his face and pain was etching deep lines beside his eyes. There was no way he could hide how bad he felt, although Johnny didn’t realise that. He made his way to the coffee machine at Dixie’s desk and reached for a cup. Except nothing happened. His right arm flat refused to move.

Catching a glimpse of Johnny’s face, Roy turned to him, stopping mid-way through his sentence. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I… uh… I…” Johnny began. He wasn’t sure what to say. In fact, he was beginning to wonder if he would be able to say anything at all as the pain in his arms and shoulders suddenly intensified.

“Get a gurney!” Dixie yelled, even as she reached out to support the young man. “Take it easy, Johnny, we’ve got you,” she soothed.

At Johnny’s other side, Roy had a firm grip on his friend’s elbow. “He took in a lot of smoke at that fire,” he told Dixie anxiously. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt this bad?” he chided gently.

“I… I couldn’t,” Johnny stuttered. He was beginning to feel really wobbly. “I left Grandpa behind,” he explained and Roy looked puzzled.

“What?”

“At the fire,” Johnny murmured. He allowed himself to be eased onto the gurney, although it didn’t relieve his pain any. He moved restlessly. “It was my fault he almost died.”

“But you didn’t know he was blind,” Roy objected as the gurney was whisked down the corridor. “And what does that have to do with not saying you were hurt?”

“I’d like to know the answer to that one, too,” Dr Brackett added, as he leaned over the gurney. “Hi, Johnny. What’s up?”

“Well, he took in some smoke at the fire, doc,” Roy explained, “but he seemed okay until just know. I thought he was going to pass out on me.”

“Get me a BP,” Brackett ordered as he pulled his stethoscope out of a pocket.

Grabbing up the BP cuff, Roy lifted Johnny’s arm and the young paramedic let out a scream of pain. Roy froze, letting go of Johnny’s arm abruptly. The sudden downward movement was too much for Johnny and he fell into welcoming darkness.

“What the hell happened there?” Brackett demanded, as startled as everyone else in the room.

“I don’t know,” Roy replied. “I lifted his arm to get the BP…” He looked down at his friend. “And then I dropped it and he went out.”

“Dix, get x-ray down here stat!” Brackett snapped. “Get these clothes off him so I can see what I’m doing.” He frowned as Roy began to take Johnny’s shirt off. “What else happened at the fire?”

“Nothing,” Roy replied. “At least – nothing that I know of,” he admitted. “Should I call Cap and find out?”

“Yes, do that, Roy. I need every particle of information that I can get.” He watched as Roy hurried from the room to use the phone.

“What do you think it is, Kel?” Dixie asked, as she took Johnny’s BP. “135/110,” she reported.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Brackett replied. “But I’ll know when Roy tells me and when I see those x-rays.”

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

By the time the x-rays had been done, Johnny was awake and embarrassed. Roy came back into the room with Brackett and frowned at his partner. “Why didn’t you tell me you fell off those stairs?” he demanded.

“How far a drop was it?” Brackett asked, slipping the x-rays onto the light box.

“Eight or ten feet,” Roy answered. “Cap says he was on his back, struggling to get off the air tank.”

“I left the old man,” Johnny repeated, as though that explained everything.

“So you said before,” Brackett agreed. “But what does that have to do with not mentioning your injuries?”

“I thought…” Johnny blushed. “I thought if I mentioned it, the others would think I was making up an excuse for leaving him behind.”

Dixie, Roy and Brackett all looked at Johnny as though he had suddenly sprouted another head. “Did you hit your head?” Brackett asked. It seemed a logical question, given the illogical answer Johnny had just given them.

Confused, Johnny shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he replied. “I had my helmet on this time.”

“Hmm.” Brackett peered at the x-rays while Roy looked at his partner in disbelief.

“You really thought we’d think that?” he asked.

“Yes… no… I mean…” Breaking off, Johnny made a face. “I don’t know what I thought!” he cried at last and winced miserably.

“All right, Johnny, let’s sit you up for a minute so I can look at your back,” Brackett requested.

It was awkward without the use of his arms to help him, although Roy and Brackett did most of the work. As he leaned against Roy’s shoulder, Johnny swallowed heavily, hoping that he wouldn’t vomit. He was embarrassed enough as it was. He winced and ‘ouched’ regularly, but at last Brackett eased him back down.

“The x-rays confirmed it, Johnny,” Brackett said at last. “You’ve had a subluxation of each shoulder.” His face was grim. “You’re going to be facing surgery for that, to make sure they are properly in alignment. I think there might be some ligament damage, too.”

The partners exchanged a glance. Johnny’s eyes were wide with panic. “Doc? Does that mean I’m… finished… as a paramedic?” he queried.

Sombrely, Brackett met his friend’s eyes. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

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

By the time the rest of Station 51 trickled into Rampart, Johnny was already in surgery. “What’s a subluxation?” Stanley asked, once Roy had finished explaining.

“It’s a partial dislocation of the shoulder,” Roy explained. “It most likely happened when he hit the floor.”

“So why’s he need surgery?” Chet asked, looking puzzled. “Surely they just stick your shoulder back into place.”

“The shoulders didn’t come right out of the socket,” Roy elaborated. “But it leaves the bones a bit out of place. It needs to be surgically corrected. Plus, Johnny might have some ligament damage from driving the squad with those injuries.”

“Why didn’t he say something?” Stanley despaired.

“He… uh… he thought we wouldn’t believe he was really hurt,” Roy mumbled. “He thought we’d think he was making an excuse for leaving the old man behind.”

Sighing gustily, Stanley shook his head. “Johnny had no way to know that old man was blind,” he declared. “And the old man himself has admitted that he didn’t tell Johnny that. There’s no cause for Johnny to feel bad about this.”

“You’re tellin’ the wrong man, Cap,” Roy reminded him gently.

“Believe me, I’ll tell Johnny all about it,” Stanley promised.

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

As usual after anaesthetic, Johnny was very nauseous and not up to visitors for quite some time. However, once he was awake and aware enough of his surroundings, Brackett went in to see him with Roy in tow. “How’re you feeling now, Johnny?” Brackett asked. His patient was still on a drip, but he looked a bit better.

“All right, I guess,” Johnny mumbled. He was still getting oxygen through a nasal cannula and both his arms were supported in slings. He looked at Brackett fearfully. “So what’s the verdict?” he asked.

“You’ve been lucky, Johnny,” Brackett replied. “The damage wasn’t too great, considering you were driving immediately after this happened. The surgery repaired the subluxations and the ligament damage, but neither was as serious as they appeared on the x-ray. A few weeks of rest, followed by some physical therapy, should see you back at work in a few months.”

The joyful disbelief on both paramedics’ faces was almost comical to watch. “Really?” Johnny asked. “I’m really going to be all right?”

Smiling, Brackett nodded. “Really,” he confirmed. “You’ll be here for another couple of days, and then you’ll need to find somewhere to stay, because you clearly aren’t going to be able to manage on your own.”

“Tell me about it,” Johnny mumbled, for he had been disgusted to discover that he had a Foley catheter in place for the time being.

“You can stay with us,” Roy assured his friend. “Joanne has decreed it from on high.”

“Thanks, Roy,” Johnny replied, smiling.

“I’ll see you later, Johnny,” Brackett smiled. “Oh and by the way, Captain Stanley is here to see you.” He gave the young paramedic a commiserating smile. “I told him not to chew on you too hard.” He left the room before Johnny could protest.

Stanley entered at once. “Glad to see you looking better, pal,” he began. “But what was this Roy was telling me? Something about not mentioning an injury…”

Frantically, Johnny tried to think of an excuse, but came up dry. He shot a pleading glance at Roy, who was quietly edging his way backwards out of the room. 

The End

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Stories by Rona                Another Honest Challenge