Part 3

 

  Johnny made his way through the burning building, the dense smoke quickly closing around him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Roy was still behind him. The fire was all around them, and suddenly the smoke became so thick that Johnny couldn’t see anything. He spread out his arms, feeling for a wall to follow, but there was none. He started coughing. For some reason, he didn’t have his air tank or mask on! Alarmed at his situation, he turned to call out to Roy, to tell him they needed to get out, but Roy was gone. Panicking, he tried to get away from the smoke, but he couldn’t escape. He coughed harder, barely able to breathe, until it consumed him.

            The coughing woke him up. He forced his bleary eyes open, then blinked, realizing he couldn’t see clearly. He could barely make out the dim fluorescent light on the wall in front of him. It looked fuzzy, its shape changing. He shook his head, trying to clear his vision, and coughed again. Years of experience enabled him to immediately recognize what was happening. With sudden clarity his mind screamed, smoke! Shit! There’s a fire!

            Adrenalin forced him from his bed, and he almost fell as he was pulled backward, and he felt a sharp pain in the crook of his arm. He had nearly ripped the IV from his arm; the pole holding the fluids had fallen to the floor. With barely controlled motions, he tore the tape off and yanked the IV the rest of the way out. He scarcely noticed the blood dripping down his arm as he stumbled out of his hospital room.

            The end of the hallway was full of smoke, and no one was to be seen. Damn it! Where is everyone! In his visual assessment of the situation, he noticed a fire extinguisher and alarm on the wall, but it was a ways down. His peripheral vision caught the glowing flames in the room across from his, and he instinctively headed toward them. While the impulse of most people would have caused them to flee, John’s training had conditioned him to run toward a fire, not away from it.

            The draperies in the room were in flames, and they were dangerously close to the bed curtain. Johnny tried in vain to rip them down, but the thick fabric and heavy-duty drapery hangers would not allow it. He shook his hands in pain as the fire burned his fingers. He looked down at the two patients. He had to get them out! They were both asleep, or were they unconscious?

            He didn’t know, and so he started to shake Mrs. Teal, who was closest to the fire. She stirred as he yelled at her.

            “Ma’am! Can you hear me? Wake up! There’s a fire! You’ve got to get out!”

            She groggily opened her eyes, “Wha? Oh, my Go - !”

            With lightening speed, Johnny proceeded to pull her IV out, and had his arms behind her shoulders, urging her to sit up. “Ma’am! Can you walk? C’mon, I need your help!” The bed curtains were now burning.

            She made little effort to help him, groggy from the medications. He pulled her out of bed, trying to get her to stand, but her knees collapsed. “I….I can’t!” she complained. “Help! Help me!” she cried, her voice tinged with fear.

            He continued to try to support her, his mid-section screaming at him as sharp pains pulsed through him. He felt something tearing, then wetness. “I’m gonna help you! Look, I’m a fireman; I’ll get you out! C’mon, just try to stand. You can do it!” He lifted her further, but she was dead weight.

            Finally, he had no choice but to pick her up in his arms. With a painful groan, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her out, nearly stumbling. She was no small woman at nearly 170 pounds, but he managed to get her through the door, her arms clutching tightly at his neck while she whimpered in fright. Staggering down the hall with her, he spotted a wheelchair, and lowered her into it. 

            “Hey!” he screamed toward the nurses’ station. The smoke was becoming thicker. A moment later, he saw a nurse round the corner, and watched her face as the shock registered. “Hey! We’ve got a fire down here! Call the fire department!”

            The nurse ran toward him, and he shoved the woman in the wheelchair toward her. The nurse swiftly grabbed the wheelchair from him and ran with it down the hall, yelling for one of the other nurses to call the fire department.

            All the commotion had started to wake up some of the other patients. The ones that could walk made their way out of their rooms and toward the exit, assisted by other nurses and residents that happened to be on that floor. Some of the patients even helped other patients, in their panic to get out of the building.

            Johnny reached up and pulled down the fire alarm, then yanked open the glass cabinet on the wall, snatching up the fire extinguisher. He then ran the opposite direction as everyone else, toward the fire.

            He entered the room where he had just rescued the one woman to find that it was now almost entirely consumed by the fire. Knowing an attempt at using the fire extinguisher would be futile, he tossed it aside. The other woman had not awoken, and the flames were starting to surround her bed. Johnny knew he only had a few seconds to get her out of there before she would burn to death. His eyes watered, and he tried to blink the tears away. Coughing raggedly from the smoke, he first checked to make sure she was still breathing, then adeptly lifted the nasal canula off of her face. As he pulled out her IV and prepared to move her, he realized he had a problem. She had an NG tube! He looked around wildly for a way to disconnect it. He couldn’t just rip it out of her. With shaking hands, he wrenched the rubber tube away from the machine and left it hanging out of her nose, then whisked her up into his arms and fled from the room, just as the flames enveloped her bed.

            Johnny stumbled into the hall with the woman, coughing, the sweat rolling down his face in rivulets. Thankfully, she wasn’t as heavy as the last woman he’d carried out. He came upon an empty gurney left in the hall, and dumped the woman onto it, nearly collapsing himself. Out of the smoke came someone in a white coat, who saw him and quickly took hold of the gurney, wheeling the woman to safety. The young doctor yelled above all the noises of the fire, the alarm, and the screams of the patients for Johnny to follow him, but Johnny turned back when he heard someone else yelling for help.

            “I’ll be right….there!” he coughed out.

            Johnny followed the screaming voice through the smoke. As he hurried to the room, he briefly looked down at himself and saw the front of his pajamas had blood all over it. Part of him shook his head, not believing this was really happening. He continued on anyway. The rational part of his brain knew he needed to get out now; the fire was spreading fast. But he couldn’t just leave and let a person perish in the flames. He was a fireman – he was trained to rescue people.

            He passed a coughing man who was struggling down the hall on crutches. The man suddenly lost his balance, and landed hard on the floor. Johnny stopped a moment to help pick the man up, then sent him on his way once again. Just before he entered the room where he heard the panicked cries, he looked back over his shoulder to make sure the man hadn’t fallen again. The man disappeared into the smoke.

            Johnny felt himself step into something wet as he entered the room, and his feet went out from under him, forcing him to land painfully on the hard linoleum floor. Momentarily paralyzed by pain, he had to struggle to get back up. The cries of the patient motivated him, and he pulled himself up off the floor.

            The room was full of smoke; the walls were scorching hot, and the paint blistered and curled from the fire on the other side of the wall.

            With dismay, Johnny discovered that the man in the bed was in traction. There was no way he would have time to free him from the maize of wires and pulleys.

            “Help me, please!” the man cried; he was coughing retchedly. Whoever had been in the other bed had left the poor man to fend for himself.

            “Okay! Just…” Johnny was cut off by a coughing fit, “stay calm! I’m gonna…” he coughed again, “get you out!” Frantically, he searched for a solution on how to get the man out. The only thing he could come up with was to wheel the whole bed out of the room. He prayed it would fit through the door, but then thought a moment later that logically, it had to fit through the door, since it must have gone through the door when they put the bed into the room.

            With frenzied motions, Johnny again pulled the IV from the man, all the while explaining what he was doing, and that he was a fireman and a paramedic, then he positioned himself behind the bed and started to push. He groaned as the stress on his body took its toll, nearly causing him to sink to the floor, but the bed finally started to roll, and he made it to the doorway. The bed frame hit the door frame, and stopped with a jolt, which reverberated all through Johnny’s body. Johnny then pulled back on the bed and tried to reposition it to get through the door, while giving as loud of a shout as he could out the door that he needed help. What little strength he had was rapidly waning.

            Relief flooded him as he felt someone on the other side start to pull the bed through the door. Through the smoke, he saw a man at the foot of the bed guiding it out into the hallway. The person pulling the bed picked up speed once it was through the doorway, and Johnny lost his hold on it, falling to the floor. He lay there a moment, watching the bed move away from him and disappear into the smoke, then about fifteen seconds later, he felt a massive explosion erupt. The oxygen tank in Mrs. Teal’s room had exploded.

 

            Craig Brice made it to the squad before Roy did that night, and climbed into the driver’s seat. Roy stopped dead upon reaching the driver’s door, surprised at seeing Brice there.

            “I’ll drive,” Brice said evenly.

            Roy didn’t have time to argue, and ran around to the passenger side. He took the slip from the Cap, then the squad pulled out into the night, followed by the engine.

            It took a moment to register in his brain that they had been called to a fire at Rampart, but when it did, he was almost overcome by a sick swirling nausea in his gut. Johnny was at Rampart. But so were many people he knew, many friends. He desperately wished that he were driving at that point, as the squad and engine raced through the streets, their sirens screaming.

            Upon their arrival at Rampart, Roy jumped from the squad before it was even completely stopped, and witnessed a scene that made his blood run cold. An explosion echoed through the parking lot as several windows blew out, revealing flames and black smoke inside. Silently, he tried to count the floors to see where the explosion came from.

            Two other engine companies were already on the scene and firefighters were now in the building, making their way up to the fourth floor to fight the fire. Nurses, doctors, and patients that had been on the fourth floor were starting to trickle out of the building. Some had made it down to Emergency and safer floors, while some headed outside to the fresh air.

            Roy and Brice followed Captain Stanley as he made his way to the chief, to get his assessment of the situation, and their orders. Hearing the chief confirm that the fire was on the fourth floor, nearly caused Roy to collapse. Captain Stanley turned toward him, and saw the fear in his eyes, knowing what he was thinking. Roy had already started to pull on his SBCA equipment when Hank stopped him.

Roy, you and Craig help them over there with the patients,” he gestured with his head toward the distraught group that was gathering in the parking lot. Roy looked at him with desperation. Roy had already realized that Johnny was not out in that group of people, and was frantic to get inside to find him. “That’s an order.” His expression soften a bit, “Don’t worry, we’ll find him,” and with that, he patted Roy gently on the shoulder, urging him to get moving.

Yeah, Roy thought, we’ll find him. We’ll find him dead, or burned, or…” He couldn’t allow himself to think any further than that. He had a job to do, and knew he had to keep his cool.

He and Brice ran to help the patients. Roy kept looking up at the building, then back at the doorway, praying he would see his partner come through.

He worked on auto-pilot, mechanically and expertly doing his job while his mind was elsewhere. He had done this for so long now, he could almost do it in his sleep. As the minutes ticked by, and he didn’t see Johnny, he became more and more frightened. If he dies, it’ll be my fault! If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have been in the hospital! Oh, God, how will I ever live with myself if that happens?

 

The force of the explosion blew the door off its hinges and across the hall, causing it to slam to a splintering stop against the wall. Johnny squeezed his eyes shut and covered his head with his hands as he lay on the floor, and curled into a fetal position while pieces of wall and ceiling fell on and around him. 

He felt the fire surround his foot and screamed. Jerking his leg away, he frantically smothered the flames, then, still on the floor, scooted himself back into the room he had come from. With a desperate tug, he pulled on the door, closing it. Staying close to the floor, he tried to get a breath of some air that wasn’t filled with smoke. His lungs and throat burned with searing pain as he gasped for oxygen, the acrid smoke nauseating him. Now he was truly frightened, as reality set in and he realized that it would be unlikely that he would survive this. Burning to death was a very real and very terrifying fear of firemen, of which Johnny was no exception.  He had seen what fires could do to human bodies first hand. He prayed that he would pass out from the smoke first.

 Johnny always knew there was the possibility that someday he would lose his life in a fire; he just never imagined that he wouldn’t be fighting it in full turnout gear when that happened. How ironic, he thought, that he, a fireman, would end up losing his life in a fire that he wasn’t a part of fighting, or that he would be in a hospital, a supposed place of safety, when it happened.

The roar of the fire was deafening. Johnny coughed raggedly, feeling light-headed from his earlier exertion and the lack of air. His belly ached deeply and the blue fabric on the front of his pajamas was no longer visible through the blood stains. A red light bouncing off the wall drew his attention, and he knew then that the fire department was there. His resolve renewed, Johnny decided he wasn’t ready to give up yet. The doorway he had come through was not an option for escape; black smoke was pouring into the room from underneath it. He crawled across the floor on his hands and knees toward the window, then, taking as deep a breath as he could, mustered his last bit of strength to pull himself up.

He looked for a way to open the window, but there was none.  Pressing his burnt fingers and palms against the glass, he squinted, straining to see the mass of glaring red lights and fire trucks. Disjointedly, he wondered if 51’s crew was out there. He felt himself beginning to go, and knew he must get out now, or die. Looking behind him, the flames had now made their way into this room, and were lapping at the bed curtains. With agonizing effort, Johnny grasped a metal IV pole and lifted it off the floor. He nearly dropped it, the metal having absorbed the searing heat, and dizziness almost overcame him. Holding it like a spear with both hands, he hurled it into the window, cracking the glass. His hands screamed in pain. The IV pole fell from his damaged hands and clattered to the floor. With new resolve, he picked it back up and shoved it back into the window. This time the pole broke the glass and flew through the window. Johnny was ready to crawl through the hole, but it wasn’t large enough. Using his very last reserve of energy, Johnny shakily picked up the bedside chair and heaved it through the broken window. He turned his head away as the glass splintered and shattered loudly, then, not caring about the broken shards everywhere, he climbed up onto the heater and tumbled out through the jagged hole in the window, the flames licking at his back.

 

More disheartened as every minute went by, Roy caught a glimpse of the fire chief out of the corner of his eye. He was pointing at something and talking into his HT.  Roy followed his pointing finger to a window on the fourth floor. Something metal, a long pole or something, had just crashed through the glass window, and was falling to the ground. Moments later, something larger soared through the same window, and Roy watched as the firemen below scattered to avoid being hit by the object, which turned out to be a chair.

Roy stood up, his heart pounding, eyes wide. A man was emerging from the broken window! Roy knew instantly who it was and ran toward it, never taking his eyes off the dark-haired man who had just fallen from the window.

 

Johnny felt the blast of cold air with relief as he fell. Five feet below the window, he landed on the narrow three-foot ledge that protruded from the building, and curled onto his side. He gagged and choked on the acrid smoke that had burnt and constricted his lungs and airway, while relishing the feeling of the icy cold surface beneath him. Overwhelmed by the pain in his hands, foot, and abdomen, he lay clawing at the concrete, his eyes closed, while gasping for oxygen.

 

Making eye contact with his Captain, Roy bolted toward the scene. Stanley nodded at him and pointed toward the snorkel truck, which was already getting in position to rescue the man.

“Go!” Stanley yelled at Roy, then called, “Brice! Go with DeSoto!” Craig Brice caught up with Roy as he was entering the bucket with another fireman, and handed Roy a safety belt. The two men strapped them on as they were slowly raised up to the fourth floor.

Roy stared at the macabre scene taking place before his eyes and felt like he was in the middle of some bizarre nightmare. On the ledge lay his partner, perched precariously near the edge. Flames were shooting out of the window a mere few feet above him. Johnny was rocking slowly, coughing, trying to get air, his neck distended. His matted hair was plastered to his sweaty head, and his face was smeared with soot. His trembling hands clutched at his chest and abdomen, and his pajamas were stained with blood. Countless tiny cuts dotted his face, hands, and arms from the broken glass, while gashes from larger ones bled freely. 

Johnny’s bloodshot eyes were half open as they reached him, and Roy called out to him. Roy was shocked at his appearance, but kept his voice calm and steady. “Johnny? Johnny!” Roy quickly and carefully reached through the cage and touched him, desperate to confirm that John was alive.

John’s eyes opened slowly, trying to focus.

“Easy,” Roy soothed, “don’t move, Johnny.”

            Johnny gazed toward the sky first, seeing stars, then his eyes roamed down to Roy’s face. In a moment of disoriented panic, he pulled away from Roy. For some reason, his mind told him that Roy was going to harm him, and as he tried to scream, “N---!”, he rolled off the edge.

Roy lunged out and seized Johnny’s arm, barely holding on as Johnny dangled over the ledge.

A look of pure terror was on John’s face, punctuated by glassy eyes wide with fright, as he swung precariously from Roy’s hands. He looked down, and seeing the hard ground looming dizzily way below him, began to flail his other arm. A choked cry escaped his throat.

Roy’s face was red with exertion, as he strained to hold on to his friend while the other firemen in the snorkel’s cage frantically sought to grab a hold of the dangling man.

Johnny’s eyes locked with Roy’s for a moment, and Roy saw a look of anguish and uncertainty in them.

With restrained calm he didn’t really feel, Roy’s eyes bore into Johnnys. “Hold on, partner. I’ve got you. I’m NOT gonna let you fall. Just – hold – on. You’re NOT gonna fall.”

Johnny continued to focus his bloodshot eyes on his partner. Tears from the smoke were running down his face, making trails in the soot that covered it. He felt another set of hands grab hold of his other arm, and then he felt himself being pulled up. Roy and Brice grunted as they pulled Johnny up and into the bucket, laying him in the bottom.

With relieved sighs, the men below saw they had secured their victim, and began lowering them as quickly as they could.

 

Dr. Brackett and Dixie McCall had arrived on the scene just moments before, and stood stunned while they witnessed the dire situation on the fourth floor. The two of them had been enjoying a rare relaxing evening at Dixie’s apartment, when the call came through that the hospital, their hospital, was on fire.

Running to meet the firemen, they were even more shocked to find out who the patient was that Roy and Brice had rescued.

Dr. Brackett yelled for a gurney, starting a flurried chain of action. Johnny was pulled from the bucket, moaning, and gasping for breath. The look on Roy’s face was one neither he nor Dixie  had ever seen before, and each glanced at the other, their eyes wide in acknowledgement. Johnny’s coughing had slowed down a little, but it was beginning to sound increasingly wet and congested.  His respirations increased rapidly as his starved lungs struggled for air. Brackett took in his symptoms while listening to his chest with the stethoscope. Face is bluish, respirations are way too fast; sounds like he’s got fluid in there, probable pulmonary edema. He looks bad, Brackett thought to himself.

Captain Stanley and Chet had carried all the medical equipment from the squad to the scene, and had it ready. Dr. Brackett stopped the gurney from wheeling toward emergency so that he could evaluate the seriousness of Johnny’s condition. Roy was on the other side of the gurney and had Johnny’s wrist in his hand, taking his pulse.

All Johnny could think of was how badly he hurt. His hands and foot were pulsing from the agony of the burns. His abdomen ached horribly. His chest and throat burned. His head felt like it was going to explode. But the worse thing was that he couldn’t breathe. Making sense of everything that was going on around him was impossible as he gulped for air. Johnny heard snippets of conversation as his consciousness clouded. He didn’t recognize the voices, though he should have. Please just let me pass out…

“…non rebreather, 15 liters…”

“…BP is 140 over…”

“…breathing is shallow and labored….”

“….start an IV….D5WTKO….”

“….pulse is 105…”

“….Johnny?….hear me?…”

Oh, God, I can’t breathe! I feel like I’m drowning! Johnny began to struggle in earnest as his constricted lungs denied him the oxygen he desperately needed. The oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth contributed to his fear. He felt hands trying to immobilize him, making him feel like someone was holding him down under water.

Let me go! Help me, please… someone…I’m gonna die…

He felt himself starting to go; his arms and legs suddenly felt like lead weights as he lost the strength to fight.  His ears were roaring and he heard urgent voices in the distance.

“….get that airway ready…”

“….he’s stopped breathing….”

“Johnny…” Roy’s voice, sounding several notches higher than it usually was. Johnny distantly noted with detached concern the barely restrained panic in his partner’s voice, and recognized that it meant someone was in trouble. He wondered who it was.

Cold air washed over his face as the oxygen mask was lifted away from him. Johnny felt someone grasp his head and pull it back, then a hand under his chin forcing his mouth open. He tried to struggle, but his body wouldn’t obey.

No! Don’t! They’re gonna intubate me and I’m awake! Help…someone…

Johnny passed out as he felt the tube begin its descent down his throat.

 

Roy watched helplessly as his friend stopped struggling, then saw Johnny’s eyes roll back into his head, his eyes sliding shut.

Moments later, “Airway’s in…” the voice sounded surreal.

“Let’s roll.” Brackett’s voice.

Roy was on automatic pilot as he ran alongside with the gurney, holding the IV bag up high.

The emergency room doors crashed open, and the gurney was wheeled down the hall toward the treatment room. In less than five seconds, Johnny was off the gurney and on to the exam table.

Before anyone could do anything, Johnny started to shake, his body convulsing in rapid uncontrollable jerks. The doctors moved to steady him on the table, making sure he didn’t fall off, and secured the ventilator to the esophageal airway. Roy stared in horror at what was happening. He’s seizing. Oh my God, he’s seizing! He had only seen a couple other seizures in his life, and they had been people he didn’t know. This time it was his best friend, and Roy knew he himself was to blame for it. He stood frozen as his partner’s body continued to spasm.

It had seemed like forever, but actually it was only about thirty seconds, when Johnny’s seizure ended. Roy heard Dr. Brackett shout that he wanted 5 mg of Diazepam injected stat.

John’s thin cotton pajamas were quickly cut off as Brackett barked out more orders for tests. Someone laid a white sheet partially across the unconscious man as Gage’s body was systematically invaded by needles, tubes, and wires.

Kelly Brackett spoke to the one person who he knew could read his mind enough to respond to his orders almost before he gave them. “Dix, get me an arterial blood gas. I want a CBC, complete metabolic package, and a tox screen. Mike, let’s get a chest X-ray.”

“Right away, Kel.” Dixie and the group of nurses responded like a well-oiled machine, while Mike called for X-ray, stat.

 “Roy, how about a new set of vitals?”

Roy stared at him for a split second, then moved into action. Be a paramedic, he thought, not a friend right now. Don’t think about it right now.  Roy watched Johnny’s chest mechanically rise and fall as he pumped up the blood pressure cuff, thankful for not having to see his friend coughing and gasping for breath any more.

“BP’s 120 over 90,” Roy informed. He then took Johnny’s pulse.

Mike was examining John’s abdomen at the surgical site. His stomach was covered with  blood, some of it dried, some of it fresh. “Hmm,” he said more to himself than anyone else. Just another complication we’re not gonna need. Man, I hope we don’t have to open him up again, Mike thought. “He’s popped all his stitches. Brenda,” he summoned one of the nurses, “get a 4 X 4 on this please.”

“Right away, Doctor.”

Mike had moved to Johnny’s knees to check reflexes, when he noticed Johnny’s foot. “Kel, he’s got second degree burns on most of his left foot.”

Roy looked up and saw the bright red skin and blisters covering most of Johnny’s foot. He knew then how close Johnny had been to the fire.

“That could complicate things,” Brackett said. He was still listening to Johnny’s chest. “Let’s start him on antibiotics. Check him for any other burns.”

Mike began closely examining John’s legs for any other signs of burns.

Roy looked down at Johnny’s arms and hands, taking in all the slices and tears in his skin from the broken glass. It seemed he was smeared with blood from head to foot. He picked up Johnny’s hand, and turning it over, discovered the red burns on the fingers and palms. He shuddered, thinking of the hell that Johnny had just been through. Roy walked around to the other side to examine Johnny’s other hand, waiting for Dixie to finish the blood gases. He was glad Johnny wasn’t awake for that procedure. Lifting his other arm, he looked it over as well, and found similar cuts and burns on the other hand. “Doc, both his hands are burned. Looks like first degree. He’s also got quite a few cuts on both arms from the glass.” Those same cuts were evident on John’s face as well, but it didn’t look like any of them were serious.

Dr. Brackett looked up and took Johnny’s arm from Roy, looking it over closely. He twitched his mouth as he did so often when he encountered problems, but didn’t speak. He took another look at the EKG monitor and seemed satisfied.

The X-ray technician arrived, and having momentarily gotten Johnny stabilized, the emergency room team stepped out of the way.

 

Roy stepped out into the hall and took in a deep breath. It was now 3:00 a.m., and he was exhausted. Overwhelmed by the guilty feelings now descending upon him, he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

A moment later, he felt a gentle hand grasp his arm, and he opened his eyes. Dixie stood looking at him with concern.

“Dix,” was all he could say, and he sighed deeply.

“Now, don’t you worry, Roy. Johnny’s going to be okay.”

He just looked at her, despair in his eyes, and shook his head almost imperceptibly. Before Dixie could offer her friend comfort of any kind, Roy saw Chet walking toward him.

“How’s John?” Chet tried to keep his tone casual, but his eyes gave him away.

Roy said nothing, so Dixie answered for him. “They’ve got him stabilized right now; we’ll know more after the chest x-rays. The biggest concern right now is the smoke inhalation, Chet. Other than that, Johnny’s not injured too badly, save for some burns and cuts.”

Chet nodded slowly, trying to take it all in.

“He had a seizure,” Roy said quietly.

Chet’s eyes widened. “A seizure? That’s…that’s bad, isn’t it? What would cause a seizure?”

Dixie eyed Roy, uncertain as to why he looked so utterly lost, then answered, “It’s possible that Johnny could have inhaled some hydrogen cyanide. Seizures can be a side effect.” Dixie looked from one fireman to the other, noting each one’s somber expression. “C’mon, you guys. Try not to worry so much okay?  We’ll take good care of Johnny, and we’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as we know anything. You both look tired. Why don’t you go on down to the doctor’s lounge and take it easy for a little while.”

Chet sighed. “Roy, the Cap sent me in to get you. If they don’t need you here, we could sure use you out there. We’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do.”

Roy looked at Dixie; she knew the question in his eyes before he spoke it.

“I promise I’ll come get you if there’s any change. Try not to worry.”

With a hard swallow, Roy silently turned and walked out, followed by Chet.

 

Captain Stanley had hated to send Chet in to get Roy. He knew that Roy was experiencing a lot of guilty feelings right now, and that Roy would want to be by his partner’s side. But now that the fire was out, there was a lot of clean-up work to be done, and every firefighter was needed. So, he’d sent Chet in to check on Roy, and to find out how his youngest crewman was doing.

Hank Stanley concentrated on the cleanup task at hand, trying hard to put the image of Johnny struggling on the gurney while he gasped for air out of his mind. It wasn’t easily accomplished. It was never easy when one of his men was injured; he always felt responsible. He knew this wasn’t a rational thought, since Johnny was in the hospital at the time, but he could not help it.

The rest of the night was spent mucking up the mess of the fire on the fourth floor. Fortunately, it had not spread to the other parts of the hospital, but the most fortunate thing of all was the fact that no patients died. That in itself, was a blessing. Now the hospital crew was busy moving patients to other rooms; some had to be transferred to other hospitals.

The crew of 51 didn’t return to quarters until 5:30 that morning. All the men had climbed back into bed, exhausted, hoping to catch at least an hour of sleep before the tones awoke them at seven a.m. Everyone had managed to fall back asleep, except one. 

 

Roy was the first one to head for the parking lot at eight o’clock that morning. Before he reached his car, Hank Stanley caught up with him. He knew where Roy would be going.

“Roy, why don’t you head home and try to get some sleep before you go back to the hospital? You look exhausted,” Captain Stanley laid his hand on Roy’s shoulder.

Roy lifted his tired eyes to meet his Captain’s. “Thanks, Cap, but…I really want to see how Johnny’s doing.”

“You could call.”

“I know; it’s just….I wanna be there….ya know?”

“I understand, pal. Just don’t wear yourself down. Go home today and get some rest, okay? I’ll be going to see John this afternoon, after my nap,” he said, smiling. “Be sure to call me if there’s anything I should know.”

“Sure, Cap.” With that, Roy left the station, leaving his Captain with a worried stare in his direction.

 

Dixie looked as exhausted as he felt, Roy noticed, as he approached the nurse’s station. She looked up at Roy with a smile, her tired eyes accented with lines of fatigue.

“Roy,” she said simply, and stood to talk with him.

“How is he?”

Dixie sighed. “Well, right now he’s stable; so that’s good. The tox screen came back showing signs of carbon monoxide and hydrogen cyanide poisoning. That’s causing some hypoxia, so he’s still on the ventilator, and Kel’s giving him medications to treat it.”

Roy listened intently, hanging on every word.

She continued, cautiously looking up at Roy, “He had another seizure – “

“Oh, no,” Roy murmured, running his hand through his thinning hair.

“They’re giving him anti-seizure medication now, and Kel thinks that is under control. His EKG is good though, Roy, and they did an EEG, which also looks good. There’s every reason to believe that Johnny will come out of this fine, barring any other complications.”

“What complications?”

“Mainly pneumonia or infection; Kel’s already got him on antibiotics.”

Roy’s tired brain tried to digest all the information. He thought of another question. “What about the hypoxia, Dix? Couldn’t that cause brain damage?”

“Yes, it could – IF Johnny had been without oxygen for a longer period of time. Roy, he was still breathing right up until the time you had him on the gurney, and we had him intubated immediately. I don’t think we have anything to worry about. Kel’s gone home, but Mike’s here; I could have him talk with you if you like, but he’ll just repeat everything I told you.”

“That’s okay Dix,” Roy looked down at the floor.

“Now,” Dixie looked up at Roy through her long eyelashes, “you want to tell me what else is bothering you?”

Roy looked up at her uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”
            “I mean, something else is going on with you. I know you’re worried about Johnny, but I get the feeling there’s more to it than that. You’re not….blaming yourself somehow for this are you?”

Sad blue eyes locked with Dixie’s. Almost inaudibly, Roy replied, “Yeah.”

Dixie stared at him in disbelief. “Roy, you weren’t even with Johnny when this happened! It’s not your fault that the hospital caught on fire. Tell me how this could possibly be your fault, Roy.”

Roy looked away, his face a picture of misery. He looked around the nurses’ station uneasily; there were quite a few people around. Dixie sensed Roy didn’t want to open up around a crowd, so she took Roy by the arm and led him toward the doctor’s lounge. “Why don’t I buy you a cup of coffee and you can explain it to me. I was getting ready to go home anyway, and could use a cup before I go.”

“Okay,” Roy said resignedly. He wanted to get this off his chest; he was tired of keeping his dirty deed to himself.

 

Sonya Evans was coming out of the doctor’s lounge as Dixie and Roy were going in. She eyed the two with curiosity, noting the solemn look on Roy DeSoto’s face. She had heard what had happened to Roy’s partner, John Gage, and figured DeSoto was upset about that, but she sensed that there was something more going on. Obviously, they were coming in to talk; this was something she didn’t want to miss. Holding a chart in her hand, she stood outside the door, pretending to write, listening in.

 

Dixie poured two cups of coffee and took a seat on the couch next to Roy. She waited patiently for Roy to collect his thoughts.

Roy began to explain. “Dix, Johnny never would have been injured in that fire last night if it hadn’t been for me.”

Dixie looked at him with skepticism. “Come on, Roy. How could you possibly be responsible for that? Did you set the fire?” she asked with a bit of light-heartedness.

“No, I didn’t set the fire. But….Johnny wouldn’t have been in the hospital at all….if it hadn’t been for me.”

“Roy, you’re not making sense. A man came into the hotel room and assaulted Johnny. How is that your fault?”

“Because….that man was…..me.” Roy gestured to himself with his hand.

Dixie stared in incomprehension, kind of like the way Joanne had stared when Roy had first told her what he had done. “You? Well, why would you do such a thing? I don’t believe it, Roy.”

“Well, believe it, because I did it. I…beat up my own partner. Believe me when I tell you it’s something I’m totally ashamed of, and if there was any way I could change things, I would.”

“But why?”

“Because I was certain that….Johnny and my wife were having an affair.”

 

Sonya nearly dropped her clipboard when she heard this juicy tidbit. Almost salivating, she strained to hear more. Just as Roy began talking again, a doctor down the hall beckoned her.

“Miss Evans, would you please take this to the lab for me?” He held up a tray with some test tubes on it.

Looking back to make sure no one had discovered her presence, she quickly walked toward the doctor and took the tray. “Yes, Doctor,” she responded and made her way toward the lab, cursing the young doctor under her breath for disturbing her eavesdropping.

 

 

Dixie was shocked at what Roy had just revealed to her, and asked him to explain, knowing that there must have been a good reason for what Roy had done to Johnny, but still not imagining what could have prompted Roy to injure his partner, and best friend, so badly.

Roy sat back and told the whole story to Dixie, much as he had in the letter he had written to Johnny. When he had finished, he sat hunched with his head bowed, looking guilt-ridden.

 

 

Having delivered the samples to the medical lab, Sonya rushed back toward the doctor’s lounge, eager to hear the rest of the conversation. Breathlessly, she stood outside the door again, and heard Dixie speaking.

 

 

Dixie sighed, seeing how utterly distraught Roy was over the situation. “Well,” she said, “I guess given the circumstances, I can understand why you thought Johnny and Joanne were having an affair. I am a little surprised that you hit him, though. That’s not like you, Roy.”

Unable to look Dixie in the eye, he muttered, “I’d had a few drinks before I saw Johnny in the hotel room. After I saw him and Joanne check in, I needed some time to think about what to do, so I stopped in the bar.”

“I see. I guess that was a bad idea, huh?”

“Yeah.” Roy ran his fingers through his hair. “I guess….when I got up into the hotel room and found Johnny there and saw Joanne’s overnight case,” he shook his head, “….and then when I saw that sexy black negligee….I just lost it…..and I hit him. I just….lost control.” Roy put his head in his hands. “Oh, God, Dixie, what if he dies? It’ll be my fault.”

Dixie put her arm around Roy’s shoulders. She knew Roy’s tendency to inflict guilt upon himself, and knew he was suffering. “Now, c’mon Roy, Johnny’s not going to die.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, but, he’s young and strong, and he’s pulled through worse things than this. You’ve got to stop this worrying or you’re going to make a wreck of yourself.”

“Dixie, you want to know what one of the worst parts of this is?”

“What?”

“Johnny doesn’t want anyone to know I did this. He’s afraid I’ll lose my job and that’ll hurt Joanne and the kids.”

 

Sonya bit her lip. Oh, this was good; she could hardly contain her excitement over this new gossip. Roy DeSoto gets drunk, then beats up John Gage because Gage was having an affair with his wife. She couldn’t wait to tell everyone. This information just proved what she had been saying about the paramedic all along.

The young doctor that had appeared earlier asking Sonya to deliver the samples to the lab reappeared around the corner, and with a raised eyebrow, looked at her questionably. Hastily, Sonya moved away from the doctor’s lounge, and forced herself to go back to work. She’d heard enough.

 

Roy and Dixie continued their conversation, Dixie trying her best to comfort one of her favorite paramedics. Like Captain Stanley, she assured Roy that Johnny would forgive him, and that she was sure that Johnny wouldn’t want to lose Roy’s friendship any more than Roy wouldn’t want to lose Johnny’s. In the end, her final advice was to just give it time, and things would work out, she was sure.

It had felt good to unload on Dixie; she was a true friend. Feeling a little better, Roy left the lounge with Dixie, asking her if he would be allowed to see Johnny, who was in ICU.

“Well, it’s not visiting hours, but I think I can get you in to see him for a few minutes,” she said. “It’s one of the perks of being head nurse.” She led Roy to the elevator and they took it up to the ICU floor. They approached Johnny’s cubicle, and Dixie spoke briefly to Sandy, the nurse in charge. She then told Roy she was heading home and bade him good-bye.

“Thanks for everything, Dix,” Roy said with a small smile.

“You betcha,” she replied, then turned to leave.

“You can go in now, Mr. DeSoto, but only for five minutes,” Sandy informed him.

“Thanks. Um, how is he…is there any change?”

“He’s been pretty stable, except he’s started running a low grade fever.”

Roy’s blue eyes filled with anxiety at this news; he entered the cubicle wordlessly.

Johnny lay on the bed at a slight incline, unaware that Roy had come in.

The ventilator tube that protruded from Johnny’s mouth and was taped in place repeatedly forced air in and out of Johnny’s lungs with a quiet hiss and thump, while the EKG monitor that was hooked up to several electrodes on Johnny’s chest beeped softly. John’s face, neck, and arms were covered with various cuts that had long been cleaned, some stitched, leaving behind only traces of dark dried blood as evidence of his ordeal. White bandages encased Johnny’s left foot and ankle, which was supported by a pillow underneath. Both of his hands were also wrapped in bandages and lie motionless at his sides. Several bags of fluid were slowly dripping medication into Johnny’s arm. His eyes were heavily closed from the sedation; his face was flushed.

Roy closed his eyes briefly after taking in all the life supports mechanisms that were hooked up to Johnny, realizing that he was responsible for it. A knot formed in his stomach as he gazed down at his friend. Roy tried to speak to Johnny, but found he couldn’t get any words out past the lump in his throat. Five minutes went by quickly, and Roy was informed he had to leave.

 

After another sleepless night, Roy was back the next day to visit Johnny. By now word had gotten around the hospital about the brave paramedic patient who had saved the other patient’s lives. Almost everyone who knew Roy and saw him there that day made kind remarks about Johnny and asked Roy to extend their well-wishes to him. Roy acknowledged their comments with a nod and a smile. It seemed so ironic to Roy that if Johnny hadn’t been in the hospital, those people likely would have died. But it was because of the pain that he himself had inflicted on Johnny that his partner was in the hospital in the first place. It seemed strange that something good could have come of his terrible deed. Still, he couldn’t allow himself the forgiveness he craved.    

Roy was unaware of the fact that Dr. Brackett had planned to take Johnny off the ventilator that afternoon, since Johnny seemed to be doing well, and his vitals were stable. He still had a low-grade fever, but it seemed to be remaining constant for the time being. Brackett had decreased the sedatives he had been giving Johnny so that he might wake up a little, then they would remove the vent.

 

Threads of consciousness had pulled at John that morning, beckoning him to wake, and he’d opened his eyes briefly, trying to make sense of all the beeps and noises he had begun hearing. The groggy awareness he had attained brought acute pain with it, and with it came the realization that a machine was breathing for him when a shrill noise invaded his fuzzy mind. His eyes were squinted shut in pain when Sandy came in to turn off the vent alarm.

Oh man. I think my head is gonna blow up. Ahh, my chest hurts, my throat hurts, and my foot! Ahh….my foot hurts! What’s happened to me? I need to open my eyes…someone is talking to me…who…oh God, I hurt….

“….John? John, open your eyes. That’s it…”

Struggling, he got his eyes open halfway; a pretty woman’s face hovered over his, then moved away in a blur. The shrill noise blasted him again. He jerked, squinting his eyes closed.

Feeling a soft hand touch his arm, he heard, “John? You’re on a ventilator….”

A ventilator! Man…..must be bad…”

“Try to relax; let the vent breathe for you. That’s it. Can you open your eyes for me again?”

He pulled his eyelids apart again; they felt like they had been glued shut. Sandy’s face appeared in front of him again, her smile widened. Sandy. That’s Sandy. I…asked her out once. She’s so pretty…she’s an ICU nurse…wait a minute…am I in ICU? What am I doin’ here? I sure feel awful enough to be in ICU.  Oh mannnnn…”

“You’re doing great, John. Do you remember what happened to you? Blink your eyes once for yes, and twice for no, okay?

He stared at her a minute, trying to process what she was saying, then slowly blinked two times.

“You were in a fire, John. You were here at Rampart after your surgery, and the hospital caught fire. Remember?”

Again, he stared at her. Then, the memories came crashing back to him. The smoke, the curtains on fire, the patients’ screams, the explosion, and then the last thing he remembered was falling out the window. His eyes drifted shut, then reopened after a few seconds.

“Good. You’re going to be okay. We’re taking good care of you.”

Right. Then why do I hurt so bad?  Please…I need something for pain…A vision of pulling the IV’s out of the patients flooded his mind, and his eyes popped open. There was that horrible shrill noise again. A fire! What happened to the patients! Did anyone die? I tried to get them out…

The vent alarm was screaming again, and Sandy moved away to shut it off. She looked at her patient’s panicked eyes and wondered what he was thinking, or remembering.

“John, calm down. You keep setting off the vent alarm. Now, what is the problem? Are you worried about something?”

The brown eyes blinked once.

“There’s nothing to worry about. You’re going to be okay.”

The brown eyes blinked twice, then looked toward the doorway.

The vent alarm went off again; his fearful brown eyes bore into hers. She shut off the alarm.

“Is it something else you’re worried about?”

One blink.

Sandy racked her brain to think what it could be. Was he worried about the hospital fire? Or the patients? Wait! It must be the patients he’s worried about! Several of them told the hospital staff that a young man in his pajamas had rescued them, and that he was a fireman. He’s probably worried about them!

“John, everyone got out. No one was seriously hurt in the fire, except you.”

He stared at her a moment longer, his eyes begging to know that she had spoken the truth.

“Everyone is fine, John.”

With those words of assurance, he relaxed, then closed his eyes tightly as pain surrounded him.

“John? Are you in pain?”

He briefly opened his squinted eyes and answered with one blink.

“I’ll be right back.”

 

Johnny was sleeping when Roy walked in, his mind still quite foggy from pain medication. Roy stood silently, looking down at his partner, lost in thought. Deciding to sit down, he pulled a chair up next to Johnny’s bed. He doesn’t look any better. Oh, God, I can’t stand being responsible for this.

Roy looked up at Johnny’s face, then spoke very quietly, nearly a whisper, the words of regret pouring out of him. “Johnny…God, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. If only I would have listened to you…you wouldn’t be here right now. I’m such an idiot. I’m such an idiot for thinking you and Joanne….how could I have thought that about you, partner? Now you’re laying here…because of me. How can I ever make it up to you? I can’t; I’ll never be able to undo the damage I’ve caused. Johnny, I don’t care if you never speak to me again….just, please get better. Oh God, how will I live with myself if something happens to you? I’m so sorry…” Distraught, Roy choked on his own tears, then laid his head down on his arm on the edge of the bed.

Roy lay with his head down, trying to control his shaking shoulders, when he felt a hand touch his head. The fingers of that hand moved through his hair slightly, then raised up marginally, coming back down to gently pat Roy’s head.

Startled, Roy slowly lifted his head to see Johnny’s bandaged hand fall away. It moved to Roy’s forearm and stayed there, and when he looked up at Johnny’s face, tired brown eyes were looking into his blue ones. The brown eyes were full of sadness, and forgiveness, and Johnny was shaking his head slightly. He tried to speak, his mouth trying to form the word “Roy” around the ventilator tube, but was unable to utter a sound.

“Johnny?” Roy’s voice was urgent, and he moved closer. Johnny continued to shake his head, and patted Roy’s arm two more times. “Can you understand me?”

Johnny closed his eyes once, then reopened them. Roy didn’t know the significance of his blinks, and continued to study his friend’s face, trying to decipher his expression. “I’m gonna get the nurse.”

Before Roy made it out of the room, Dr. Brackett and Sandy came in. “Hi, Roy. I see you’ve managed to wake up our patient,” Kelly Brackett said as he made his way over toward the bed.

“Sorry, Doc, I – “

“It’s quite all right, Roy. We want him to wake up.” The doctor leaned over Johnny. “Johnny, how would you like it if we got rid of this ventilator?”

John closed his eyes in relief and a slight smile emerged from behind the vent tube.

“You’re…you’re taking him off the ventilator? Is he…breathing well enough for that?”

“I believe so, Roy, but we’re going to find that out right now. Would you mind stepping out of the room for a moment?”

“S-sure,” Roy answered, and cautiously left the room.

 

 

Roy watched through the window as Dr. Brackett talked with Johnny a moment, then took a position at the head of Johnny’s bed, Sandy on the other side. Dr. Brackett removed the ventilator, and Roy cringed when he saw Johnny’s hands grab the bed rail, his body becoming rigid, and his legs jerked under the covers. A moment later he heard gagging, and coughing, and saw the nurse pull an oxygen mask over Johnny’s face.

Roy studied his own reflection in the glass window as Dr. Brackett talked quietly with Johnny, and Sandy helped arrange Johnny comfortably on the bed. The tight lines of stress on his own face had relaxed somewhat, and a little bit of relief washed over him, as he thanked the heavens for this small sign of recovery for his friend.

Dr. Brackett examined John’s hands and foot; Roy could tell the foot was especially painful to Johnny when his face contorted at the doctor’s touch. Next, the doctor pulled back the covers to examine Johnny’s abdominal incision, which had recently been restitched, and Roy turned away from the scene to give his friend his privacy.

Sandy motioned a few moments later that Roy could come back into the room.

“Things are looking good, Roy. He’s breathing well enough without the vent. I’ve given Johnny some instructions on how to use this,” Dr. Brackett pointed to a device that Johnny was to blow into several times a day to heal his lungs. He turned his attention back to Johnny.

“How’re you feeling now, Johnny?”

Johnny swallowed painfully, and his gaze met Roy’s. In a very rough, almost inaudible voice he managed, “Okay,” then, “’m thirsty.”

Sandy handed him a cup with ice chips in it and spooned some out. Lifting his oxygen mask away, she slowly fed him a couple. “Go slow,” she instructed as he tried to swallow. It was difficult.

“Johnny, how’s your pain level right now?” Dr. Brackett inquired.

Johnny lifted his hand and swiveled it back and forth, fingers out, like a boat rocking. “Some….Demerol might be nice,” he half croaked, half whispered.

Dr. Brackett smiled and looked over at Roy, who returned his smile. “I’ll pick the flavor if you don’t mind, John. Let me see what I can do.” He started out the room, then said, “Just a minute more, Roy. He needs to rest.”

Roy nodded. “Thanks, Doc.”

Sandy left with Doctor Brackett, leaving Roy alone with Johnny once more.

“Well, I….guess I’ll be going, Johnny.” Now that Johnny was awake, Roy felt uncomfortable. He knew that Johnny probably didn’t really want him there. The last time he saw John, he had ordered Roy to get out. He wasn’t even sure that Johnny had read his letter. “I’m…..I’m sorry….for what you’re having to go through,” Roy said sincerely.

Johnny examined his partner, with a pleading look in his eyes. Roy looked haggard. His eyes had deep circles under them, his hair was unusually unkempt for Roy, and his shoulders were slightly slumped from fatigue. Johnny thought he had lost some weight.

Roy moved to leave, then turned when he heard Johnny call out to him. “R-roy,”

He took a step nearer to the bed. “Yeah, Johnny?”

Johnny extended his hand out and said, “Don’t…….I……I forgive you.” Johnny kept his arm extended until Roy finally took Johnny’s hand in his own.

Roy licked his lip, then bit it, unable to speak. He looked down at his partner’s hand in his, and laid his other hand on top of it, nodding.

Johnny’s eyes slid closed, exhausted from the pain and stress he had experienced in the last half hour. Roy gently released his hand from Johnny’s, inhaling deeply. When the nurse returned with John’s pain medication, he had already drifted away.

 

 

Johnny had lifted a huge weight off Roy’s shoulders that afternoon, with those three little words he had spoken, I forgive you. Roy played back the words in his mind over and over again during his drive home. The look in Johnny’s eyes had been sincere, and Roy realized that day what a true friend he had found in Johnny. Considering the fact that Roy didn’t feel he deserved Johnny’s forgiveness, he felt extremely fortunate that his friend had such a forgiving nature.

Joanne had hugged her husband and threw in an “I told you so,” along with a big smile, at Roy’s news that not only was Johnny better, but that there was hope for their friendship, and partnership. For the first time in several nights, Roy slept peacefully.

 

 

Johnny continued to recover day by day, despite the fact that his lungs and burns were still causing quite a bit of discomfort to him. The deep ache in his chest and the pulsing agony of the burns in his hands and foot slowly diminished with time. He continued to have bad headaches, which he knew were a byproduct of all the toxic smoke he had inhaled. Johnny accepted the pain medication they offered gratefully and often those first few days. He slept a lot, and quickly became annoyed at the constant badgering of the nursing staff to use his inhaler each day. By the fourth day, the bandages were off his hands, and his skin was beginning to peel, and starting to itch. The nurses had him up and out of bed daily, forcing him to take walks with their support. After a week went by, he finally started to feel halfway human again.

Roy had stopped in for several visits, but not as many as he would have if these unfortunate recent events hadn’t happened. Normally, he would have been by Johnny’s side at a near constant level, since he and his family were all the family Johnny had. He knew John had an aunt, but figured she must live out of town since she never visited, and John never spoke of her. It had been just as well that Johnny had been either sleeping, or groggy and inattentive during Roy’s visits; Roy was at a loss for words anyway.

 

One day when he thought John was feeling up to it, Roy mentioned the letter, and asked if John had read it, just wanting to make sure. John had looked Roy in the eye and nodded slightly, responding, “Yes, I read it.” He looked down then and said, “It…got burnt up in the fire.” For that, Johnny had been disappointed, for he found that he later yearned to read it again.

Roy had shifted his weight from foot to foot self-consciously as he said, “I just wanna be sure that you know….that I really meant everything I said – in the letter, I mean.”

Johnny studied Roy’s face for a moment, choosing his words when Roy said, “You do believe me?” Roy was unable to read Johnny’s expression.

Finally, Johnny said in a very quiet voice, “I do believe you.” He paused a moment, “Let’s….just not talk about it any more, okay? I just want to forget about it and try to put it behind me.”

“That’s…gonna be hard for me to do, given everything I’ve caused you to go through.”

“I know, Roy. But I’m gonna try. You should too. It was a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes once in a while.” A shadow of a crooked smile creeped on to his face, but it went unnoticed by Roy. “Granted – it was one hell of a colossal mistake, but I’ll think of a way for you to make it up to me,” he deadpanned.

“Anything, Johnny, just name it.”

“How about doing latrine duty for me for the next two months when I get back?” It was a small price to pay but Johnny honestly couldn’t think of anything else, and wanted to lighten the conversation a bit.

Roy smiled wanly. “You’ve got a deal. I think….I got the better end of the bargain.”

 

Roy decided to put his energy to work in some other ways. He was determined to make it up to Johnny, to prove that their friendship was still strong, and valuable. An idea had come to him as he was walking through the department store to pick up some pajamas and other personal items for Johnny, after the fire had destroyed those necessities.

Roy had rushed home that day and changed into his work clothes, then driven to Johnny’s house, tools in hand. He spent the next two of his days off finishing the repair work and rebuilding of Johnny’s fence out back. Standing in the yard, he stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Johnny would be surprised when he came home and saw that his fence was finished. Roy then set out to try to get some work done on Johnny’s remodeling project. He hung the doors and painted the bedroom and bathroom. He couldn’t find the stain for the wood trim, so he let that go. He tried setting the vanity in the bathroom, but the plumbing eluded him, and he didn’t want to do it incorrectly, so he left that. When he was finished with these projects, he cleaned Johnny’s house from rafters to floorboards, and put the finishing touches on it by stocking John’s freezer with food and casseroles that Joanne had made.

Roy knew that Johnny was due to be released from Rampart soon. He had every intention of inviting John to stay with him and his family after he left the hospital, but had a strong feeling that this time, Johnny would not take him up on his offer. He was right.

 

Johnny couldn’t wait to leave the hospital and sleep in his own bed. He was tired of being poked and prodded, and forced to do his breathing exercises. Although he was still exhausted, and still had frequent headaches, he was feeling much better and was ready to go. Therefore, when Dr. Brackett gave him the good news that he was to be released the next day, he was ecstatic.

Roy had offered to care for Johnny at his home, but Johnny had declined, giving the excuse that he really just wanted some quiet time at his own home, and that he could take care of himself fine. While being truthful, the reality was that Johnny still didn’t feel completely comfortable being around Roy after everything that had happened. He fully intended to return to work and put hard feelings aside, but it was just going to take some time. He had a lot to sort out.

 

 

Roy showed up bright and early the next morning with John’s clothes and helped him gather his hospital things together for the ride home. Release papers were signed, and together they left the hospital, just like old times, sort of.

Johnny rolled down the window of Roy’s Porsche and relished breathing in the cooler winter air. The cold breeze felt invigorating washing over his face after breathing the stale hospital air for nearly two weeks. He was quiet during the ride, thinking of everything, and nothing at the same time. Christmas came to mind. It was only a few weeks away. Johnny had been spending the last few Christmases with Roy and his family, but this year, Johnny wasn’t sure he wanted to. It was a dilemma, because Johnny had assured Roy that all was forgiven, yet he knew if he didn’t show up for Christmas, Roy would assume that Johnny was still angry with him. He sighed deeply, nearly bringing on a coughing fit, and instead managed to only make a slight cough. Even at that, Roy turned his head sharply to scrutinize his partner.

Up until a few days ago, Johnny would have hoped to spend some time with Mary Lynne over the holidays. Oddly, she had not stopped by once to visit him during his extended hospital stay. This, he couldn’t figure out. Ever since the fire, he hadn’t seen her. Maybe it scared her, he thought, remembering Jeanette’s reason for breaking it off with him a few years ago. I guess some women just can’t handle dating someone who encounters danger all the time. I know Roy’s wife has a hard time with it sometimes. I’ll give her a call when I get home and see what’s up. Little did he know that a certain nurse working at Rampart had spread a lot of damaging information about him around the hospital. Mary Lynne was just one of those that had been caught in the fallout.

The Porsche pulled into Johnny’s driveway, and the two paramedics got out. Roy was anxious to see what Johnny’s reaction would be when he saw the work that Roy had completed.

They entered the house, and Johnny dumped his bag into a living room chair and headed for the kitchen for a drink. While pulling the tab on his soda, he was drawn toward the back patio doors and looked out. He did a double take, staring out into the yard. Roy came up behind him, not wanting to miss his reaction.

“Hey! My fence! Someone finished my fence,” he said, mystified, scratching his head. “Who…” He turned and saw Roy smiling. “Did you….?

“Yep. I just figured that, well, with everything that…happened, that you lost a lot of time that you could have been working on it. So, I thought I’d finish it up for you, save you the work.”

John was surprised. “Oh. Well….thanks.  That was…nice of you.”

“Does it look okay?”

Johnny looked back out into the yard. “Yeah, yeah, it looks fine. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Listen, why don’t you unpack?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Roy, you don’t have to stay. I’m kinda tired, I think I’m just gonna relax.”
            “Okay, I’ll leave in a minute.” There was still one surprise Roy wanted Johnny to see. “Let me grab a drink before I go,” he stalled.

“Sure. Help yourself.” Johnny walked up the stairs and into his bedroom. The bed looked so inviting. He was so tired; all he wanted to do right now was crawl into his bed and snuggle under the covers for a couple of days.

Instead, he immediately noticed that the door was hanging once again, and he smelled paint. His eyes popped open wide. “What the – “ His eyes traveled around the room taking in the fresh paint on the walls, not only in the bedroom, but in the bath as well. He saw that someone had tried to set the vanity as well, but had not completed it.

The first feeling that washed over him was annoyance. Apparently, Roy had made himself busy at his house, without an invitation. John walked around the room, and, closing his eyes, sighed, once he realized that Roy had just caused more work for Johnny than he intended. The paint that Roy had used on the walls had been bought for the ceilings. Johnny had wanted to get the woodwork stained first before he painted anyway. Examining his trim work closely, Johnny saw that Roy had gotten little bits of paint on the baseboards, which would make it much harder to stain. He would have to buy more paint for the ceilings, and now sand the woodwork before he stained it. He would also have to move the vanity out of the way again, so he could paint behind it. Unwittingly, Roy had just about doubled the work that Johnny would have to do.

His instinct was to yell at Roy that he had no business letting himself into his house without asking and taking it upon himself to just finish a project that Johnny had started, a project that Johnny hadn’t wanted any help with. But he stopped himself. He stopped when he realized that Roy had done all this out of friendship, and how much time Roy must have taken to get it all done. For him. Johnny realized that Roy probably felt he had to do something to try to make up for what he did to him, and this was his small way of showing John how sorry he was.

He heard Roy climbing up the stairs and took a few deep breaths, then tried to paste a smile on his face. “Looks like you’ve been busy,” Johnny said.

“Yeah,” Roy said, “you like it? I mean, I hope it’s okay and everything, what I did.”

“Oh….sure, sure. Yeah, it’s…great, Roy. Thanks. Thanks a lot,” Johnny tried to sound as sincere as he could.

“Well, I’m just glad I could be of help.” Roy looked at Johnny; his eyelids looked heavy. “You look tired; why don’t you get some rest and I’ll get outta here.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

“Uh, there’s a bunch of casseroles frozen in your fridge, and stuff for you to eat, so you don’t have to go to the store. Um, if you need anything - ”

 “Yeah, I know. I’ll be sure to call. Thanks a lot, Roy, for….everything. You’d better go. After all the time you spent here I bet Joanne’s got a huge list of things for you to do at your own house.”

“Actually, Joanne helped me do some of the painting here.”

Johnny’s eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

“Yeah. She cares about you too, Johnny.”

He nodded, then looked longingly at the bed.

Roy patted Johnny’s shoulder. “I’ll see you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Roy left the bedroom and Johnny heard him descending the stairs. Gingerly, he pulled his shirt off, then his jeans, and climbed under his covers. He was too tired to shut the drapes, and despite the bright sunlight falling across the bed, he fell asleep instantly.

 

It was nearly 7:00 when Johnny picked up the phone to call Mary Lynne. The day had grown dark and Johnny was contemplating what to have for dinner, but he decided first things first.

Dialing her number, he wasn’t even sure if she would be home. Sometimes she worked late. She picked up on the second ring. “Hello?” Johnny heard the familiar voice.

“Mary Lynne?” He heard no response. “It’s Johnny.”

Long pause. “Hello, John. How are you?”

He immediately sensed her cool tone and slowly waded into the conversation. “I’m fine. I just got home from the hospital today.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

Uh oh. He sighed inwardly, knowing what was coming. “Um, Mary Lynne, I haven’t seen you in a while. After the fire, you never came to visit me in the hospital. Is…something wrong?”

Another long pause. “No, nothing’s wrong. Look, I was just walking out the door – “

“Wait a minute! Mary Lynne, uh, look, I can tell something’s wrong. Can we get together and talk about it? I’d like to see you. I…miss you.”

He heard her sigh. “No, I don’t think so. John, there’s really nothing to talk about. I’ve decided that…I just don’t really think we’re…right…for each other. You know? I want to break things off between us. I think that would be for the best.”

“For the best?” he asked confused. “What do you mean? Did I do something to upset you?”

            Mary Lynne snorted. “No, John, in fact, you were just being yourself.”

            I was just being myself? What the hell’s that supposed to mean?

            “Johnny, you take care of yourself. I have to go. Bye.”

            “Mary Lynne! Wait! Would you just give me a min–“  He heard the phone click and the line went dead. Johnny stood there a long moment staring dumbly at the telephone in his hand.

            What did I do? Man, she was fine until that fire. What could she be angry about?

            Johnny blew off fixing dinner; he had just lost his appetite. He suddenly felt very down and lonely. He hadn’t been in love with Mary Lynne, but he did like her a lot. And now the old familiar feelings of being dumped again overtook him. What did I do wrong? Man, I don’t think I’ll ever understand women. I guess I’ll never find the right girl.

He felt a headache coming on, and suddenly realized he didn’t feel very good. He shuffled to the bathroom and took some pain medication, then shuffled back to the living room and curled up on the couch under a blanket.  The house was painfully quiet, and he found himself almost wishing that he had taken up Roy on his offer. He turned on the TV to offer himself a little company, then fell asleep a little while later.

 

Five weeks later, Johnny was back at work. He had spent his time at home convalescing, trying to build up his strength with exercise and long walks. Johnny also managed to finish the work on his bedroom and bathroom during these weeks. 

He worked hard on his breathing exercises, knowing his lungs were going to have to be in top form if he wanted to continue fighting fires. He was also going to have to be extra careful around smoke from now on, always using his mask and air tank.

He didn’t know if it was the weather and short days, or being off work, or just being lonely, but he felt increasingly blue. He chalked it up to a combination of all of the above. He hoped that being back at work would be the ticket back to his old self.

That first day back started out stressful and uncomfortable. Having to put up a front that nothing had happened between him and Roy was difficult, not only for him, but for Roy also. Only Captain Stanley had an inkling of what might be on the minds of his two paramedics, and he did his best to make them feel comfortable.

Johnny tried his hardest to be chipper and easy-going around Roy, forcing himself to try to reenact the close relationship they used to have. As the day wore on, he relaxed and found himself falling into a familiar pattern with his partner. Their work was steady all day, leaving them both little time to contemplate how they would interact with one another. By the end of the shift, it felt almost like nothing bad had ever happened between them, and they both went home with a sigh of relief.

The next shift they were back together, the tension easing still a little further. They were on their way back to the station after a very close call with a little boy who had nearly drowned after falling into a swimming pool. His parents had neglected to drain it for the winter, and he had fallen  in, after chasing a leaf that had dropped from a tree. Fortunately, the mother found the boy quickly, and had called the medics immediately. The boy was very lucky. CPR brought him around fairly quickly, and he was transported to Rampart with a good prognosis.

On the drive back, Johnny started in on one of his old familiar rants. He started going on about how parents need to watch their kids more closely, and about the stupidity of those who left their pools filled with water with no cover. He was just taking another breath to start making yet another point, when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Roy was rolling his up into his receding hairline just as Johnny was ready to start his next sentence. Abruptly, he stopped, and words that Roy had spewed at him another time haunted him. “All I ever do is listen to you, Johnny, because you never shut up!” Instead of finishing what he was saying, he turned away and stared out the window, lost in thought.

Roy glanced over at him, wondering why he stopped. He didn’t know that Johnny had seen him roll his eyes. “Johnny, aren’t you going to finish what you were saying?”

“Huh?” Johnny diverted his attention back to Roy for a moment.

“I said, aren’t you going to finish?”

“Ah….no. That’s all I had to say.”

Roy stared at him a moment, sensing Johnny’s sudden mood change, then looked back through the windshield. He sensed something was wrong, but Roy didn’t want to ask, fearing Johnny’s answer might be something he didn’t want to hear. So, he kept quiet and hoped it was nothing.

 

Little things like this began to plague Johnny, and he started putting his own behavior and actions under a microscope, constantly trying to analyze his conduct. It was hard not to remember all the things Roy had said about him, and pretend they had no merit.

The next shift, things took a turn for the worse. The events of the day had gone smoothly; it was late afternoon. Roy had ridden in the ambulance with a heart attack patient, and had finished in the treatment room. He decided to freshen up in the bathroom, not knowing that his partner had arrived and was looking for him.

After getting their supplies, Johnny asked Dixie if she had seen Roy, and she suggested he check the doctor’s lounge. So, Johnny headed in that direction. Approaching the open doorway, he heard female laughter, and stopped abruptly when he heard his own name mentioned.

Light-headedness nearly overcame him and a tight hot sickness spread across his stomach as he silently listened in on their conversation about him.

One voice said, “I can’t believe you haven’t heard about what he did! I thought the whole hospital knew.”

The second voice said, “I am surprised, I mean, I never thought Johnny was like that. I guess what you said earlier was true.”

A third voice, “Well, I think sleeping with his partner’s wife is the lowest of the low. I don’t know how Roy can stand to work with him.”

The first voice offered, “Well, neither one of them can afford to let the cat out of the bag, you know. Roy could lose his job if the department found out about the assault, and I’m sure Johnny doesn’t want everyone to know that he preys on the other guy’s wives.”

The third voice, “I told you he was a snake.”

The second voice said, “Poor Roy. He’s such a nice guy.”

The first voice, “Yeah, it’s too bad. I feel sorry for him having to work with the guy. I mean, it’s obvious Johnny’s careless on the job too. Look how many times he’s ended up in the hospital injured. He’s probably a danger to the other guys he works with.”

The third voice, “Isn’t that the truth. You know, I once heard someone call him a ‘disaster magnet’.” Laugher erupted in the room with that comment.

The first voice again, “Well, just look at his track record. What was he in here last time for? I mean, before his partner beat him up. He was hit by a car on a run, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, that was it.”

“How about the time before that?”

“Hmm, I don’t remember.”

“Neither do I; he’s been in so many accidents I’ve lost track. It might have been the time he ended up here with a broken leg when that building blew up. Or maybe it was the time he was bitten by that snake.”

“Oh, I remember that.”

“Now, how can you miss seeing a rattlesnake?”

The second voice, “Well…”

The first voice again, “Remember a few years ago when he caught that monkey virus?”

Johnny couldn’t see the other girls nodding.

“I heard he knew he was sick, and he rappelled down the side of this building to take care of a cardiac case anyway. He passed out while he was trying to rescue the guy.”

“Really?” Nurse two said.

“Yeah, the guy died. By the time someone else went down to get him, it was too late.”

Johnny stood rooted to the floor, stricken. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear it swishing in his ears. His mouth went dry, and he felt like someone had just dropped a fifty-pound bag of concrete on him. He saw movement out of his peripheral vision, and in his fog caught sight of Roy walking toward him, waving the handi-talkie.

“Hey, we’ve got a call,” Roy called, stopping to turn the other direction. “C’mon!”

Johnny pried himself from his spot, feeling dazed. His body automatically moved itself down the hall, outside, and to the squad to climb in, but his mind was lost in a downward spiral of devastation. He left before he had the chance to hear the two other nurses in the room defending him.

 

The fire had been a bad one. An abandoned shopping center had burnt to the ground, and it looked like arson. Luckily, no one was injured. It took four hours to get the fire out and cleaned up; the men finally pulled back into the station at 9:30 that night, all starving.

Johnny had been silent on the ride back, his mind numb. He had temporarily been able to forget about the scathing conversation he had overheard at the hospital while fighting the fire. Now it was all he could think of. Roy had noticed Johnny’s frozen blank stare out the window as he drove, wondering if he should ask what was wrong, but decided to keep quiet. Johnny was probably just tired, as he was. Still, he looked so…lost.

The guys went about preparing a quick dinner; Johnny headed out back to be alone. The cold night air chilled him as the sweat evaporated from his body, and he stood leaning against the brick wall watching and listening to the drone of the highway traffic going by a quarter mile in front of him.

His mind was so frozen with disbelief that he was able to form only one coherent thought. Maybe Roy was right. Maybe I should have just stayed on the reservation.

The realization that everything that Roy had said about him was true was more than he could take at the moment. His whole career was a joke, a lie. No one at the hospital respected him; no, they thought of him as an incompetent skirt chaser and a danger to the department. His heart ached like it never had before. Everything he thought he had built for himself was just a mirage; it had just been an illusion. He vaguely wondered how the nurses had found out what had happened; had Roy blabbed about his wrongdoing to someone at the hospital? It didn’t really matter anyway. Apparently, the nurses’ opinions of him weren’t new. He just never was privy to them before now.

Roy found him outside, staring into the darkness. “Johnny?”

Johnny didn’t answer. Roy walked up next to him, concerned. Johnny’s face was in the shadows.

“You okay?”

Johnny swallowed. “Sure.”

Roy tried to read his expression, but the darkness hindered him. “Dinner’s ready.”

A moment went by before Johnny replied. “Okay.”

Roy hesitated. Something was really wrong. Johnny’s eyes looked haunted, like he’d seen a ghost. Roy chewed his lower lip, deciding if he should question John further. Unsure, he ventured, “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t breathe in any smoke at the fire, did you?”

“No,” John said quietly. Johnny wasn’t the least bit hungry; in fact the thought of food made him nauseous right now. But he knew that if he didn’t come in and eat, Roy would probably question him further, and he didn’t think he could deal with that right now. He turned and walked past Roy, into the station’s kitchen, and took a seat at the table. He didn’t hear any of the conversation going on at dinner that night, lost in his private thoughts.

Roy noticed Marco was staring at John at the table, his eyebrows furrowed. Marco glanced up at Roy, nodded his head toward Johnny, then back at Roy, raising his eyebrows in a question. Roy shrugged slightly at Marco, shaking his head minutely.  Johnny was busy pushing his food around on his plate, his head bowed. Shortly thereafter, the men got up from the table and took their dishes over to the sink. Johnny followed suit, and scraped most of the food that had been on his plate into the trash. In a daze, he started to put the dirty dish back into the cupboard.

“Hey! What’re you doin’, Gage?” Chet scolded.

“Huh?”

Chet grabbed the plate from John’s hand. “Why don’t ya try washing it first? The rest of us guys don’t want your germs. I mean, just because you don’t wash your dishes at home doesn’t mean you don’t have to here.” Chet nudged Johnny’s shoulder; he was just teasing.

Usually, Johnny would have some retort to offer; tonight he just stared at Chet, muttering, “Sorry,” then walked out of the kitchen.

“Man, Gage, what kind of drugs are you on tonight?” Chet called after him.

Roy and Marco watched Johnny’s departure, then looked at each other, Marco shaking his head.

“What?” Chet asked, observing the other two. “What’s wrong with him?”

Roy and Marco looked at Chet. “We don’t know, Chet. Why don’t you just lay off of him?” Marco answered.

“I didn’t do anything,” Chet said defensively.

“What’s wrong with your partner, amigo,” Marco asked quietly. He could see deep concern in Roy’s eyes.

“I don’t know, Marco.”

“Maybe you should find out.”

Roy chewed his lip again. “I don’t know. I think maybe we should just all leave him alone for a while. If he doesn’t snap out of it, I’ll talk to him.”

Captain Stanley had been listening to the exchange between his men. “Roy, is John recovered enough to be working? You don’t think the fire today was too much for him, do you?”

Roy shook his head. “Nah, he seemed okay at the fire, Cap, and Dr. Brackett cleared him. I don’t think that’s it.”

“I’ll tell you what it is,” Chet interjected.

Four eyes turned to Chet.

“I don’t believe you guys don’t recognize it. It’s that girl he’s dating. I’ll bet she dumped him. He always acts like this when he gets dumped.”

“I don’t know, Chet,” Roy said.

Chet threw the dishtowel on the counter and made his way to the door. “There’s one way to find out,” he said, and left to find Gage before anyone could stop him.

Roy closed his eyes and sighed, waiting for the explosion he was sure he would hear in a moment. A minute went by. Then another. Chet sauntered back into the kitchen, a smug look on his face.

“Well?” Marco asked.

“I was right. She dumped him.”

“He told you that?” Roy asked.

“Yep.”

“Did he say why?”

“Nope. I asked him, but he just said it was none of my business. Nearly took my head off, the grouch.”

“Huh.” Roy grunted. He was puzzled. Johnny hadn’t mentioned anything about Mary Lynne lately. Roy wondered when the breakup had happened, and felt a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t like Johnny not to disclose information of that nature to Roy. At least it never used to be like Johnny. Usually John always sulked about a lost girlfriend to his partner. This time he hadn’t. Was that really all it was? Something about the lost look in Johnny’s eyes tonight told Roy there was much more to his mood than breaking up with a girl. What worried him most was that maybe it was something he, himself inadvertently had done. Or maybe now that Johnny had worked a few shifts with him, he just wasn’t comfortable. Roy wasn’t sure what to do. He decided he would keep an eye on his friend. Maybe it would pass. If it didn’t, he would offer his help.

 

It was 2:00 am. A noise outside had woken Roy, and he rolled over onto his ride side. Opening his eyes briefly, he saw Johnny lying in the bunk next to his, on his back with his hands folded together resting on his stomach, his eyes open and unseeing, staring at the ceiling. Roy was disconcerted to see Johnny awake, but was so tired that his eyes slid back closed, the urge to sleep too strong.

Something pulled Roy from his slumber a little while later, and his eyes came back open to focus on Johnny. He hadn’t moved, and his eyes were still open, staring upward. For a moment, Roy became alarmed, until he saw Johnny’s eyelids close momentarily. Roy looked at the clock. It was now ten after three. Has he been awake all this time?

Now worried and awake, he continued to watch Johnny. Roy’s face was in the shadows, and Johnny was oblivious to Roy’s scrutiny. Roy stared at John for nearly ten minutes, silently debating as to whether he should say something. He continued watching as Johnny’s eyelids became heavier and heavier. They closed briefly, then opened. Another minute went by. Then they closed again, opened, then closed. Half a minute later, they opened halfway, then closed again. They stayed closed that time. Roy finally rolled over and decided he should do the same.

 

It was nearly morning and Johnny was lost in a dream. In the dream, he was an adult in his own home. It was strange because the dog that Johnny had as a child was there with him, but the dog had long since died. Johnny was surprised and pleased that his dog was with him now, and commented on that to the people with him. The two people with him had also long since died, but yet they were there with him as well. It was so strange; they seemed so real.

Then they were telling him they had to go.  Johnny didn’t want them to, because he knew he wouldn’t see them again. He threw his arms around his mother, then his father, crying, his heart wrenching, begging them not to leave. His father hugged him back, his strong arms consoling him, and told him not to worry, that they would be together again. They would see him again. Then, they were gone, and Johnny stood there alone. Even his dog had disappeared. Johnny awoke feeling as if his arms were still wrapped tightly around his father. He quickly realized it had just been a dream, and felt wetness on his face.

Tears were pooling in his eyes and trickling down his cheeks as he lay in his station bed. Everyone else was still asleep. He cried silently for several minutes, not being able to stop the flow of tears. It started building in his nose and throat. He sniffled three times, realizing that he was making too much noise. He would be humiliated if anyone found out he was crying. He needed a tissue. Throwing the covers back, he climbed into his bunker pants, and pulled up the suspenders. Several wet teardrops splattered onto the floor. Jerking his head, he tried unsuccessfully to shake off the emotions he was feeling. He quickly fled the room. It was 6:30 a.m., and the first hint of light was beginning to come through the windows.

Johnny grabbed several tissues, and wiped away the tears, but not the sadness. The dream had brought back strong, unwanted memories and emotions.

Unlocking the back door, John stepped out into the parking lot and watched the sun rise. It was stunningly beautiful that morning, deep fuchsia streaks saturated the clear dark blue sky, and he fought to stop thinking about the dream. It reminded him of how badly he missed his parents, parents that had been taken away from him at too young an age. Over the years, he had successfully blocked out the memories, and moved on with his life. It was too painful to think about them, so he forced himself not to. The dream had seemed so real; he could still feel his arms wrapped around his father. He hadn’t dreamed about them in a long time, but it wasn’t hard to figure out why he had this night.  Looking up into the sky, new tears began to build and threatened to spill over, and he thought, why? Why did you both have to die so young, when I needed you so much? I’ve never stopped needing you…or loving you. He looked into the beautiful sunrise. What should I do? I…I don’t know what the right thing is. If only I could just talk to you, even for just a minute. But I can’t, and I never will. His shoulders slumped in defeat. You’re gone forever. There’s no one else I can talk to. 

Finally collecting himself, he sighed, threw the tissues into the trash, and went back inside. He felt drained, and decided to make a pot of coffee.  Pouring himself a cup first, he made his way back outside, and sat down at the picnic table to watch the traffic. The sun was low in the sky and he stared mesmerized while it slowly lifted, the bright fuchsias now faded into streaks of gray around the sun’s glow.

The wake-up tones blared, and Johnny took his cup back into the kitchen for a refill. He couldn’t wait to go home. He sank down onto the sofa, propping his ankle atop his knee, and absently picked up a copy of ‘Firefighters’ magazine someone had left there. He was leafing through it when the other guys trickled into the kitchen.  

Roy eyed him, trying to read his expression. John didn’t look up, and blocked out the background conversation as he scanned the magazine. He wasn’t really paying any attention to what was in the magazine, until a colorful full-page ad caught his attention. It had a picture of a majestic mountain covered with snow, dotted with evergreens, surrounded by crystal blue skies. Underneath the photo it read, ‘Be a Boulder Paramedic’. Johnny started to read the article below. It said that the city of Boulder, Colorado was starting up a paramedic program and was looking for recruits. They needed experienced firefighters to train as paramedics. Mountain rescues and climbing were two of the job requirements. At the bottom was an address of where to send a complete work history. Johnny looked up and gazed around the station, watching the familiar scene of the guys sleepily milling about getting their coffee, a scene that once had offered security, comfort, and a sense of belonging, but now suddenly didn’t. His gaze returned to the photograph. He stared at it, lost in thought, then absently leafed through the rest of the magazine. By the time he was done, it was almost 8:00. The members of B-shift had arrived.

Something possessed Johnny to hold onto that magazine, so he tucked it under his arm and made his way to the dorm to change into his street clothes. Roy entered as John was finishing dressing and began to change his clothes as well. Roy noticed that John still had the same dull lifeless look to his eyes that he had the day before. He regarded Johnny a moment, desperate to think of the right words to say. Awkwardly, he said, “Hey, I’m sorry about Mary Lynne.”

Johnny looked over at him, a blank expression on his face. “Huh?”

“I said, I’m sorry about Mary Lynne.”

Johnny stared at him a moment, then said, “Oh. Thanks.” He shut his locker and turned to leave.

“Hey, Johnny?”

“What?”

“Uh,” Roy searched his mind for something to say, but only came up with, “want to come over this afternoon and have dinner with us?”

Johnny hesitated just a second, then said, “Ah, no thanks, Roy. I…I’ve got a lot of stuff to do today.”

“Oh. Okay, then. I’ll see ya.”

Johnny waved and left wordlessly.

 

Johnny drove for a long while before he finally decided where he would go. His mind was in a whirl when he finally made the decision of what he would do. Johnny drove determinedly toward his destination; he was a man on a mission – a mission to save himself. He spent the next several hours at the library reading up on resumes and cover letters, and after borrowing one of the library’s many typewriters, produced a shiny new resume. He made several copies of it before leaving, then headed home. Once there, he pulled an envelope from his desk drawer and copied the Boulder Fire Department’s address onto it. John slapped a stamp onto it and walked down to the corner, where he dropped it into a mailbox.

After last night’s sleepless night, an overwhelming desire had overcome him to get away. His reputation was ruined; he knew that. He also knew that he couldn’t bear the humiliation of continuing to work around people who thought he was shallow, careless, and untrustworthy - especially since he had never thought of himself as being any of those things. And especially since he didn’t have an affair with Roy’s wife, but was being blamed for it. It was bad enough that he had heard this description of himself from people he didn’t even know, but to have heard it from his best friend crushed him. Even though Roy had apologized, even though Roy had insisted that his words were spoken in the heat of the moment and that he had said he meant none of it. The words had still been spoken, and though John had forgiven Roy completely, he was unable to erase the damage his words had done.

Johnny had always been extremely proud of what he had accomplished in his career. He had worked so hard to be the best. It seemed like all his life he had had to work harder than everyone else to prove himself, to be accepted. He had never felt accepted growing up on the reservation. Being a half-breed, he didn’t fit in with either side, never knew which side to choose. He thought that here he had finally found a place where he did feel accepted, and had earned the respect of others. What a joke that was, he thought, sighing.

Then his thoughts turned, and he tried to play devil’s advocate with himself. Maybe I’m running away from my problems. Maybe I should just forget about what everyone else thinks and suck it up. No matter what they all think, I know I’ve done a good job…haven’t I?  I’ve certainly  worked my ass off.  Then words the nurses had spoken flowed back into his mind.  No. Why should I stay someplace where I’m the brunt of the joke? It’s time to move on; I’ve done that plenty of times before, it shouldn’t be that big a deal. I just need to start over somewhere. I guess I’ll have to start doing things differently from now on. Hell, this might not even work out anyway.  If it doesn’t, I’ll look somewhere else.

 

Upon returning to work the next day, Johnny was still depressed, but was determined not to let it get him down. He was just going to have to accept that this period in his life was over, and that maybe something better lie down the road ahead. He had hope in his heart that if he left this town and started over, things would get better. He tried not to think about it, but every trip to Rampart served to remind him of his questionable status. Every nurse that looked at him, or said hello to him, he imagined was secretly laughing at him behind his back, or loathing him for what he had supposedly done to Roy. He felt nervous looking any of them in the eye, even Dixie, who sensed his discomfort. It was hardest for Johnny when he was around Dixie, for she had become a good friend, a friend whom he thought had respected him. To think that she looked down upon him was hard for him to bear. He was going to miss her a lot.

Dixie had asked Roy that day what was bothering Johnny; he had barely looked at her or spoken to her. Roy was clueless, stating that maybe his break-up with Mary Lynne had something to do with his mood. An astute woman, Dixie didn’t buy it. Roy agreed, but didn’t know what else it could be. He explained that it seemed like ever since the other day when he had come looking for Johnny at Rampart to tell him they had a run, and had found him standing outside the doctor’s lounge, was when his behavior had seemed to change.

“You know,” he said to Dixie, “when I called to him down the hall for that run, he was just standing there outside the lounge, staring, like he was in shock or something. I don’t know what it was; he looked kind of…I don’t know….like he’d just lost his best friend or something.”

Dixie’s brows furrowed together, thinking, wondering.

“What?” Roy asked.

“I don’t know…I…I wonder if he overheard something?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, Roy. But there’s a few nurses around here that get off on spreading rumors about people. I’ve warned them about it several times, but it’s hard to stop it. It’s just one or two of them, and other than the gossip, they’re good nurses.  I swear though, I’ve thought seriously a few times about letting them go because of it.”

“Well, what do you think Johnny could have overheard?”

“I don’t know, Roy, probably nothing.” Dixie brushed the thought off, thinking she was probably just being paranoid. “How are things going between the two of you by now? Are things any better?”

“Well, things are as good as can be expected, I guess. He says he’s forgiven me, Dix; but somehow, things still aren’t quite back to normal.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Roy. It’ll probably just take a little time. Johnny’s been through a lot lately; he’s bound to be a little out of sorts.”

Roy smiled softly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. He’s probably out waiting for me in the squad. I better go.” He waved and took off down the hall toward the exit.

Dixie waved back at him, then turned her attention back to her work.

 

True to his word, Roy kept his promise and fulfilled his duty of cleaning the latrine for Johnny. Captain Stanley raised his eyebrows silently when he realized his senior paramedic was doing his partner’s job, but said nothing. The other guys noticed as well, and wondered what was up; Roy simply stated that he had lost a bet with Johnny. For his part, Johnny didn’t really want Roy to do his work; not only did he feel guilty, but he felt uncomfortable lying to the guys about why Roy was doing it.

For that matter, Roy had been going out of his way to be overly nice to Johnny at work. He took it upon himself to help Johnny with any job he had, and did it cheerfully. By the end of their second shift together, Johnny was getting uncomfortable with Roy’s uncharacteristic kindness toward him.

That evening during dinner, the engine was called out on a run, leaving Roy and Johnny to finish and clean up dinner alone. It was Johnny’s turn to do dishes, and as he prepared to start the cleaning process, he noticed Roy next to him starting to put soap in the sink. Roy filled up the sink with water and soap, then started cleaning up the dishes, while Johnny stood there staring at him incredulously.

“Uh, Roy?”

“Hmm?”

“What’re you doin’?”

Roy looked up at him. “Um, just helping you with the dishes.”
            “Why?”

“Why?”
            “Yeah. Why? You never helped me with the dishes before when it was my turn.”
            Roy stammered a bit. “Well, I just thought…you might like some help.”

Johnny threw the dish-towel on the counter. “Damn it, Roy!”

“What?” Roy looked up with surprise.

Johnny blew a sharp breath out through his nose. “Would ya just quit…” he was shaking his head slightly, “bein’ so….nice to me?” his teeth were gritted together on the word ‘nice’.

Roy froze and looked at Johnny out of the corner of his eyes, his face displaying confusion and a little embarrassment. “Uh, what do you mean?”

Johnny began pacing. “What I mean is, before you….put me in the hospital, you never acted this nice to me. Now all of a sudden you’re doing everything for me, helping me with things, complimenting me on everything. This morning, you shined my shoes for me! A-a-a-and then you even warned me that Chet had put a water bomb in my locker! You did my latrine duty, and now you’re doin’ the dishes for me! I mean, what is the deal?”

Roy swallowed. “Sorry….I just – “

Johnny sighed. His forehead crinkled together in a pained expression. “Look, I know what you’re tryin’ to do. But you’re getting’ on my left nerve, Roy. Please, just be yourself, okay? You don’t have to act like you’re walking on eggshells around me, ya know. I told ya I forgave ya, so just…go back to bein’ your normal self, okay?”

Roy smiled sheepishly. “All right,” he replied. Hearing Johnny once again say that he had forgiven him brought a little relief to his uneasy feeling about Johnny.  Then without thinking, he dug in to finish the dishes. Johnny grabbed the plate from his hand and shooed him away, then plunged the dish into the soapy water, shaking his head. Roy reluctantly left Johnny with his hands buried in the dishwater to go work on the logbook.

The rest of the shift passed by uneventfully; and most of the crew left in a hurry the next morning in order to finish their last minute Christmas shopping. Their next shift would be Christmas Eve, and then the A-shift of Station 51 would have Christmas day off.

 

Roy had invited Johnny early on that next shift to spend Christmas day with him and his family, as he had done the past several years. Johnny felt obligated, since he was now pretty much considered a part of the family, and the kids loved him being there. He also knew that if he turned down Roy’s invitation, that Roy would think that Johnny was angry with him still. He wondered how long it was going to take Roy to get over his lingering guilt.

Johnny didn’t know what to do, for he really was in no mood to be at the DeSoto’s home this year. There were so many years in the past before he started at 51’s when he had just hated when the holidays rolled around, and this year was one of those. If only I had my own family to be with, he thought.

Then, he remembered his aunt. She was his family. She was alone too, and although her memory wouldn’t allow her to remember Christmas any more, that didn’t mean she didn’t deserve to enjoy it. Previous years Johnny had stopped by to see her on Christmas, spending a brief time with someone whom he shared fond memories of the past with, but who was now unable to remember those memories with him. She sometimes wasn’t even certain who he was, usually thinking Johnny was his dead brother, David. Hearing her call him David killed him, mainly because it forced him to recall the fierce love he still held in his heart for the brother he lost. It was still hard, even after all these years.

He decided that this year he would try to make her Christmas happy, and vowed to spend the day with his aunt. He would go by in the afternoon and bring her his presents, then eat dinner with her in the dining room at Shadyside Village where she lived. He would have to stomach the pressed turkey and soggy dressing they would serve for dinner, and smile at all the little old ladies while she showed him off to her friends there. She was probably the youngest one living there, for sadly, Alzheimer’s had struck her very early in life.

On Christmas morning, Johnny told Roy that he was going to spend the day with his aunt, and promised to try to stop by sometime later during the day, not being entirely sure that he would fulfill that promise. He would miss the gaily-decorated DeSoto house, always filled with wonderful Christmas smells of oranges, cinnamon, turkey, and fresh coffee, and where he and Roy would usually take an afternoon nap after a morning of the children’s frenzied gift opening. Later, they would wake to the smells of roast turkey wafting from the kitchen, and the sounds of Christmas carols that Joanne would put on the stereo.

The thought crossed his mind briefly that this might be the last chance to spend Christmas at Roy and Joanne’s; he might not even be in LA this time next year. Who knew? He might have a whole new life by then, and this time, he was determined, he wasn’t going to screw it up.

As it would turn out, out of obligation, Johnny did stop by the DeSoto’s that day, but not until after 7:00 that evening. He mainly stopped by to see the children, who were extremely disappointed that they didn’t get to spend the day with their Uncle Johnny. As usual, he had presents for them, which they enthusiastically opened, and he was rewarded with their hugs and kisses, which he relished more than usual. Seeing their eyes sparkle and their soft angelic faces light up in his presence, he basked in their display of affection for him. Hugging them close, taking in the scent of their sweet skin and hair, he fleetingly wished they belonged to him, wondering for a moment if he himself would ever experience this kind of closeness with a child of his own.

Johnny ended up getting a gift for Roy and Joanne together, something they needed for the house, and Roy and Joanne had something for him. He left around 9:30 that night, relieved that the day was over.

 

Four days after Christmas, John and Roy were silently polishing the squad, when Captain Stanley approached them, saying Gage had a call. Hank regarded John for a moment, then told him he could take the call in his office if he liked. The gentleman on the phone had sounded mature and businesslike, and Hank suspected John might be in need of some privacy.

Johnny entered the Cap’s office and picked up the phone without closing the door. Roy continued shining the squad, but was within hearing distance and unintentionally overheard the call.

“Hello, this is John.”

The voice on the other end of the line was strong and friendly and boomed out, “John, this is Captain Jim Kirk from Station 15 in Boulder.”

Caught off guard by the man’s name, Johnny hesitated a second, a quirk of a smile forming on his face. “Uh, Captain…?” was his response.

The other voice said, “Yes, that’s really my name, and one joke about the Enterprise or Mr. Spock, and I’ll have to find a new recruit.”

Johnny laughed; the ice had been broken. “No, sir, I wouldn’t think of it,” he replied.

Upon hearing Johnny refer to the person he was speaking to as ‘sir’ and ‘captain’, curiosity got the better of Roy, and he surreptitiously listened in.

Who is he talking to, Roy wondered, as he heard John’s one-sided conversation. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Uh, huh.”

“You did?”

“You do?”

“Uh, huh.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Yes, I would, sir.”

“Tomorrow?” His voice sounded surprised.

“Uh, no sir, I’m not on duty tomorrow.”

“Oh. Okay.” Roy heard a slight hesitation in John’s voice.

“ I’ll have to find a flight –”

“You did?”

“Oh. When? 10:30?”

“Ah, yeah, I think I could make it. That sounds…fine, sir.”

“Okay.”

“What was that flight number?” Roy saw Johnny scribbling something on a piece of scrap paper.

“Okay.”

“Uh, I’m 6’1”, about 165 pounds, and I have dark brown hair, kinda longish.”

“All right.”

“Okay. Yes, I’ll see you then.”

“Okay. Thank you, sir. I’ll look forward to it.”

“Good-bye.”

Gage slowly put the phone back into the cradle, and Roy could see him silently sitting on the edge of the desk staring down at the phone he had just hung up. He didn’t move for a long time, then finally took a deep breath and blew it out as a long sigh. He looked around the office as if he had never seen it before, or perhaps as if it would be the last time he would see it, then he finally lifted himself from the desk and walked out into the engine bay. His face was pensive and rather somber, and he mechanically picked up the rag he had been using before on the squad and silently continued his polishing. Roy watched him, trying to figure out if he should ask Johnny what the conversation was about, hoping that what he had overheard was not what it sounded like. Feeling too uncomfortable to ask his partner about it, and realizing that Johnny would know he eavesdropped, he decided to remain silent.

 

The next morning, Johnny was on a plane to Denver. Nervous and excited at the same time, he pondered what lay ahead of him as he caught his first glimpse of the majestic Rocky Mountains out of his airplane window.

The man who greeted him at the gate looked nothing like the Captain Kirk on Star Trek. He was a rather short stocky man at 5’9”, but powerfully built. Johnny estimated him to be in his early forties; his dark, short-cropped hair was just starting to gray around the hairline. His blue eyes twinkled with warmth as his strong grip pumped Johnny’s hand in a handshake.

            The drive to Boulder took a little over an hour, and the friendly fire captain actually outdid his traveling companion in the conversation department. By the time they reached the station, Johnny was relaxed and found himself really liking the man.

            He was introduced to the members of the crew of station 15, and shown all around the building. Having been built in the 1920’s, it was much older than where he currently worked, but it had a comfortable feel, like a well-worn pair of blue jeans. It was a beautiful two-story brick building with a deco design. Best of all, it had a pole. The first station that Johnny had worked at had had a pole, and that was the one thing Johnny had missed when he started at 51. Somehow, a fire station without a pole wasn’t a real fire station. As the day wore on, Johnny found himself comfortably fitting in with these men and this captain. He met the man who would be his partner should he be offered the job. He was a big man named Tony Rockman who has grown up in the Bronx of New York. “Everyone calls me ‘Rocky’,” he told Johnny. He was brash and a little outspoken with a boisterous laugh, but outwardly genuinely friendly, and Johnny found he couldn’t help but like the man. It occurred to him how much different he was from Roy. All the men went out of their way to make him feel at home, and they seemed to possess the same closeness with each other that Johnny had felt with his comrades at 51.

            Despite what the captain had said to him about the Star Trek remarks, Johnny had to laugh when, upon entering the man’s office, a full-size cardboard replica of the starship Captain Kirk greeted him, and was pointing a water-squirting phaser at him. Someone had perched a fireman’s helmet atop his cardboard head, and draped a turnout coat over his shoulder. Obviously, this crew enjoyed joking around as much as 51’s crew, and apparently this captain was light-hearted enough to be the brunt of their jokes.

            The captain was impressed and enthusiastic about Johnny’s skills and experience, and by the end of the day, offered him the position of senior paramedic. Assisting in the training of new in-coming paramedics offered extra pay. Before Johnny could give him an answer, the Captain told him to take several days and think it over. Captain Kirk was going to be out of town visiting family for the New Year holiday, so he instructed Johnny to call him after he returned from his vacation.  Johnny was glad for the extra time given, but by the end of the day, was fairly certain what his answer would be.

            That evening, some of the men from the other shift invited him to go out for dinner. They took him to a whimsical restaurant called the Gold Hill Inn at the top of a mountain. It had been there since the gold mining days and was an authentic log cabin, complete with all the rustic charm of a century ago. By the end of the evening, the guys had persuaded Johnny to reschedule his next day flight so that he could join them on a New Year’s Eve ski trip. Quelling his excuses that he had never skied before, they convinced him that after taking a two-hour lesson, he would be skiing with the rest of them. They also promised him that a New Year’s Eve skiing in the mountains would be an experience he would never forget. They had no way of knowing that not only would they be right, but that that evening would prove to be a deciding factor of Johnny’s decision of whether to stay and take the job.

Part 4