Part 4

Standing atop the mountain, Johnny stood unsteadily in the snow on his rented skis. He was part of a small group of people waiting to take their first lesson. The other guys had gone off to ski, and would join him on the slopes after his lesson. Most had brought their wives or girlfriends with them.

Having these long contraptions attached to his feet felt awkward, but John was excited to try anyway. It was exhilarating to be up high in the mountains, and Johnny scanned his surroundings, awestruck by the beauty. Fresh snow had fallen the previous day, and it blanketed the pine trees that surrounded him. The sky was a crystal-clear blue, and Johnny adjusted his sunglasses as the sun glared around him. Closing his eyes for a moment, he breathed in the cold refreshing air. He felt happy and relaxed, content to be away from the problems that had been plaguing him.

 Suddenly, he heard a voice, and opened his eyes. He found himself staring into the eyes of what at first he thought was an angel. He lifted his sunglasses off his face. Instead, standing before him was his ski instructor, a young woman who introduced herself as Julie. She stood before the group, and as she began explaining the nuances of skiing, Johnny found he could barely concentrate on what she was saying, for she was the most beautiful creature he thought he had ever laid eyes on. Her wispy shoulder-length blond hair shone in the sun; it fell in soft waves around her pink parka, and was held back by a white headband. Her eyes sparkled turquoise above her ski-jump nose, and when she met Johnny’s gaze, she paused in her speech almost imperceptivity, then broke out into a dazzling smile. His heart skipped a beat; he was smitten.

He forced himself to focus on the skiing instruction, chastising himself silently for even looking at a woman right now. The last thing I need is to get involved with someone. I’ve made enough problems for myself because of women. He had to fight to concentrate on what she was saying, but soon became engrossed in her teachings. She had a definite knack for knowing exactly how to describe what to do, where to lean, and where to put your weight in order to control your skis. Johnny fell only once, and when he did, he found her in front of him reaching out her hand to help him up. Their eyes locked, and for the moment her hand lingered in his; electricity seemed to pass between them.

By the end of the lesson, Johnny was skiing. He had learned the basics, and most importantly, how to stop. Although he was anxious to go out on his own, he found himself disappointed when the lesson was over. The group broke up, and Julie, the instructor began teaching another class. He glanced at her one last time, and using everything he had learned, Johnny skied down the mountain.

He had a natural ability, and found himself enjoying it immensely. The experience he had gained from being a rescue man aided him, since it had required intense physical abilities, balance, and agility. The hours melted away, and by late afternoon, Johnny found himself becoming exhausted. Skiing was a sport that necessitated using every muscle in your body, and while Johnny was used to being very active, the air was thinner here, causing him to be slightly out of breath. He decided to take a break.

No sooner had he kicked off his skis and gone inside to get a cup of coffee, than he ran into some of the guys he had come with from station 15. They were on their way back out to the slopes. After a fifteen minute break, they convinced him to come back out to ski with them.

It was beginning to get dark, and the lights had come on to light up the slope. Johnny was cautiously and slowly making his way down the hill, when out of nowhere something slammed into his back, knocking him down. He rolled a ways, his poles and skis becoming a tangled mess, which then broke free, and he slid to a stop. A split second later, Johnny rolled onto his back with the intention of getting up, and realized that he couldn’t catch his breath. He lay there staring up at the dark sky, his diaphragm paralyzed, his mouth half open, trying to inhale, but couldn’t. A moment later he felt snow spraying over him and heard someone asking him if he was all right. A pink parka hovered over him, its owner’s face a mask of concern.

“Are you okay?” Julie, the ski instructor dislodged her skis and kneeled down next to him.

At first, he was unable to speak when he tried. Slowly, his diaphragm relaxed, and air seeped back into his lungs. He nodded. “Yeeeah…I think so.” He slowly sat up, helped by Julie who had a grasp on his arm. “What happened?”

The skier who had plowed into him was already back on his feet and was ready to take off down the hill. He looked back sheepishly at Johnny, waved, and yelled, “Sorry!” before he continued on his out of control journey back down.

Julie nodded at the inconsiderate skier. “I saw it coming but couldn’t stop it. That guy was on an out of control collision course for you. You couldn’t see him because he came from behind you.”

Johnny took an experimental deep breath, relieved that he seemed to be okay. He smiled up at her. “I guess he could use one of your lessons.”

She smiled, her perfectly straight white teeth sparkling at him, and he melted.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked.

He nodded again. “Yeah, I’m sure. Just knocked the wind out of me. I think….I need a break though,” he said as he got to his feet. He looked down; his skis were a few yards away from him.

Julie collected his skis and brought them over, dropping one on each side of him so that he could step back into them. “I know a place where the hot chocolate is out of this world. I was heading down to get some myself. Care to join me?”

Johnny hesitated. His mind screamed, No! No! No! What came out of his mouth however, was, “Okay….sure. That sounds good.” He was cold, and hungry, after all.

“Follow me,” she said, and then she expertly maneuvered down the slope, stopping periodically to make sure he was behind her. When they reached the bottom twenty minutes later, she commented, “You do very well for a first time skier.”

He shrugged. “I bet you say that to all the klutzy skiers.”

She laughed.

Both were hungry also, so Julie suggested the chili, which led to a conversation about Marco’s chili back at the station. That led into a long dialogue about Johnny’s career, and the guys he worked with. Julie was interested in everything about him, and her laughter felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around him. Time flew by as they warmed themselves by the massive stone fireplace and talked about everything from their jobs, to their hobbies, to their likes and dislikes. Julie was disappointed when she found out that he lived in LA, but brightened visibly when he told her he was here for a job interview.

The time went by unnoticed by the two of them, who were engrossed in conversation. It felt so good to Johnny to be with someone who knew nothing about him, someone who he had a new chance to make a good first impression with. It seemed he had already done that with the guys at station 15. They already were treating him as if he were one of their brothers.

Rocky and his girlfriend entered the lodge, their faces red from the cold and wind, but with smiles of excitement on their faces. They had had a good run, and their dripping ski boots clunked noisily on the worn wooden floor as they approached John and Julie. The noise in the lodge had grown quite a bit louder; a band was playing music and everyone was talking. The New Year was not too far away.

Rocky plopped himself down next to Johnny and began unbuckling his snowy ski boots with a flourish. Johnny smiled as he heard Rocky ask his girlfriend if she would go buy them a couple of beers, and saw him pull some money out of his pocket to give her. Rocky gave her quick peck on the cheek, and she cheerfully went off to purchase their adult beverages.

Rocky launched into a conversation about how great it was out on the slopes, and asked Johnny how he liked skiing. Johnny gave his typical response that it was ‘incredible’, and regretted that he wouldn’t be able to do any more skiing.

Julie looked at her watch. It was about 10:45. “We’ve got plenty of time if you want to make another run,” she said hopefully, for she ached to get back out in the snow one last time before the slopes closed at midnight.

Johnny brightened. “Really?” He very much wanted to try it just one more time. “I’d like to try it again.”

Julie stood up. “Let’s go then. I know a run that’ll be perfect for you. It’s not too hard, but it’s fun.”

“Good deal,” he responded, and together they went back out to get their skis.

“Remember to be back before midnight!” he heard Rocky call after him, “You don’t want to miss the celebration!”

Johnny waved and said he would.

This time they rode the gondola up to the top. Johnny hadn’t been up that high yet, as he’d managed to stay primarily on the easier hills. Julie must have sensed his nervousness; because she assured him that this run wouldn’t be too steep for him.

She had been right. It took them about fifteen minutes to reach the top. There were very few people around at this point, since everyone wanted to be in the lodge to bring in the New Year. Julie was delighted to find that they had the slopes to themselves.

The run she had chosen was beautiful. Narrower than some of the bigger trails, it winded through the woods and was fairly flat in most places, so they were able to ski rather leisurely. Johnny was enjoying it immensely. The combination of the crisp cold air, the silence, and the snow-draped trees soothed him, and he thought to himself that this must be what heaven is like.

It was nearing midnight, and Julie picked up the pace a bit, since they were still a ways up the mountain. Johnny fell behind a bit, not being nearly as expert a skier as his companion. He decided he felt comfortable going a little faster, and enjoyed the sensation of feeling almost like he was flying, the wind biting at his face making his eyes water slightly. He had never felt so alive.

He was flying along at a good pace when he encountered some moguls, which were little bumps in the snow. Julie was handling them with ease, and Johnny tried to watch her as he bent his knees more to act as shock absorbers. He was quite proud of himself and began to relax his body a little, confident that he was able to maneuver his skis over the bumps. Suddenly his confidence was broken when he hit a patch of ice, and he felt himself lose balance. In a flash his skis slid on the ice and took a wild turn, slamming into one of the moguls full force. Johnny felt himself fly upward and sideways into the air, twist, and then painfully crash back down landing on his hip on the hard packed snow. He rolled a few times before landing face first into a patch of powder.

Johnny pulled his face out of the cold wet snow and slowly tried to right himself. He was lying with his head pointing downward on the hill. With a groan he rolled onto his back and tried to keep from sliding further down the hill. His face and hair were caked with snow. Snow had forced itself up inside his coat sleeves and down inside the collar of his coat, and the icy wetness was dripping down his back. He heard his name being called.

“Johnny?!” Julie had stopped, taken off her skis, and was making her way back up the hill toward him.

Shaking his head like a wet dog, he wiped the snow out of his eyes and face and managed to wave down at her, while lifting himself up on his elbows. He grimaced as his weight shifted to his bruised hip. She made it to his side; her eyes were wide with concern.

For the second time that day she asked, “Are you all right?” Her hands were on his arms helping him sit up. Water was now dripping off his eyelashes and nose.

“Oh, man,” he complained, as he wiped at his face again. He looked up at her and could tell she was really worried about him. He grinned at her to quell her fears and said, “I’m okay. Man! I didn’t see that ice!”

“You really fell hard. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

He moved his arms and legs a little experimentally, finding that nothing was broken. “I’m positive,” he answered. “but I think I’m gonna be a little colorful back here tomorrow,” he rubbed his hip, smiling an embarrassed smile.

Julie pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and blotted the water off his face, while Johnny brushed the snow out of his sleeves and collar. When that was done, they both remained sitting in the snow next to each other, quiet for the moment, taking in the silent beauty surrounding them.  Johnny looked around, there was no a soul in sight. The majesty of the mountains awed him. All that could be heard was a slight rustling of the wind through the trees. The full moon had hidden behind the clouds, and a feeling of total peacefulness settled around them. Johnny closed his eyes as he savored the moment of absolute quiet. For the time being, all his worries seemed to have faded.

A popping noise prodded him to open his eyes, and they beheld a beautiful display of fireworks off in the distance. They sat side by side silently together watching the colorful explosions.  He glanced over at Julie, and saw the brilliance reflected in her eyes. Feeling his gaze upon her, she turned toward him. She smiled softly at him. “I guess it’s midnight,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Happy New Year.”

They were inches apart, the visible haze of their breath intermingling. Their eyes locked; hers looked dreamy, his looked uncertain. Instinct took over, and Johnny slowly leaned toward her. What the hell, he thought, it’s New Year’s Eve and I’m sitting alone on a mountain with a beautiful girl. I’d be crazy not to kiss her. His lips brushed over hers in a soft kiss, then he pulled away.

He tried to read her expression, thinking her blank stare was one of disapproval, and he looked down, silently cursing himself for what he had just done. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. A tiny apologetic smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, “I guess I….got a little….carried awa---“

Before he could finish his sentence, her arms were sliding around his neck, and she pulled him toward her. Her mouth found his and they exchanged a very long, sensual kiss. They both felt breathless when they finally pulled apart. Simultaneously, they voiced their feelings.

She said, “Oh, wow.”

He said, “Oh, man.”

She said, “Can we…..try that again?”

He said, “I’m game if you are.”

They leaned toward one another again, and fell into a deeper kiss. Their arms encircling each other, they fell back onto the powdery snow, their limbs entwined, their lips never parting. With the intense heat spreading through both their bodies, they didn’t get cold in the snow. Neither knew how long they lay there, but the fireworks were long over when they parted.

Johnny felt something wet hit his cheek, and opened his eyes. He looked down at Julie and smiled; a snowflake hit her nose, and he kissed it off. He watched as many more snowflakes came down and settled on her hair and eyelashes. He sat up, looking out at the beautiful site in wonder.

“Oh man! It’s snowing!” he said with delight. It was true. Huge heavy wet snowflakes had begun to fall.

Julie laughed. “So? That’s not exactly unusual around here.”

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen snow?” he exclaimed.

“No, how long?”

“I don’t know, but it’s been a long time, at least ten years.”

“You sound like you like it, though.”

“I do,” he said dreamily. “I grew up in Montana. It reminds me of…when I was a kid.”

She smiled at him again, and standing up, he lifted up her and swirled her around in the falling snow. She laughed in delight, and soon they were back in each other’s arms, sinking back down to lay in the snow together, their mouths joining together in a steamy kiss.

After a time, Johnny and Julie finally skied back down to the lodge and enjoyed the party that was, by then, winding down. They toasted in the New Year with a glass of champagne, and cuddled during a slow dance on the dance floor.

John walked Julie to her car. The parking lot was nearly deserted now, and the snow silently continued to fall around them. The party was over and most had gone home.

Rocky was loading up his truck and would be waiting for Johnny so that he could take him back to Denver.

Julie wrapped her arms around Johnny, then tilted her head back to kiss him. When their lips parted, she whispered, “Don’t go.” She began to plant tiny kisses on his neck, causing him to shiver.
            This was going to be hard. Their faces were inches apart. “I have a plane to catch,” he said regretfully, his hand running through the back of her silky hair. “I’ve got to be at work by 8:00.”

“Will I ever see you again?” she asked, pulling her body closer to rub against his.  He looked into her eyes. “Do you want to?”

“Yes, I do.”

He smiled. “Then I’ll see you in three weeks. I’m gonna take that job.”

Her face lit up and she hugged him. “I’ll be waiting,” she said breathlessly. Their last kiss good-bye was long and passionate. Before he left, she tucked her phone number into his pocket.

Johnny’s 4 a.m. flight arrived on time, and he tiredly pulled his Rover into the station’s parking lot at 7:30 that morning. Upon taking his seat on the plane, he had immediately fallen asleep, and had to be awakened by the flight attendant after landing. Two and a half hours of sleep wasn’t enough, and he was exhausted.

After changing into his uniform, he wandered into the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee. He relaxed down onto the couch, his mind awhirl at the previous two-day’s events.

Last evening had been unexpected and wonderful, and he couldn’t get the beautiful girl, Julie, out of his mind. He looked forward to future ski trips, and living in the beauty of Colorado. He also looked forward to the excitement of starting up a new paramedic program, and felt strongly that he could form strong friendships with these new men. For a moment, the thought crossed his mind that these friendships would be replacements. Replacements for the friends he had found here, and with a growing sadness he wondered how they would ever be able to take the place of the deep friendship he had built with Roy.

His thoughts turned more somber as he looked around the dayroom, and realized that he would only have a few weeks left to work here. Memories of all his years with this crew flooded his mind. He thought of all the rescues he and Roy had been on, the funny rescues and the serious ones, the good times and the bad. In his mind he could hear countless conversations between the guys, guys he had come to think of as brothers. For a moment, he felt unsure. He decided not to think about his decision right now, after all, he still had time to change it if he really wanted to. He hadn’t given an answer to the captain in Boulder, and his own captain had no idea that he was planning on leaving. He knew in his heart, though, that he wouldn’t change his mind.

Roy had given him an uncertain look when he had walked into the kitchen ten minutes later. Johnny had evaded questions about where he was New Years Eve, saying that he had simply been out with some friends. He knew that Roy probably had tried to call him to invite him to spend the evening with him and Joanne, and he felt bad about lying to Roy. But he wasn’t ready yet to tell him the truth.

Sometime during that day, John realized that he would have an awful lot to do before he left LA. A major thing on his list would be selling his house, so, while everyone else was busy with firehouse chores, he sneaked away and placed a call to the realtor that had sold him the house, and asked her if she would like to list it. She had been all too eager to do so, and even told him that she thought she had a potential buyer – someone who had been very interested in that house when it had sold the last time, but who had not been able to find another home yet. Their present dwelling was currently in contract, making it an enticing situation. She made a trip to his house that afternoon, and planted a ‘For Sale’ sign in his front yard.

By 9:00 that night, Johnny was asleep on the sofa in the day room in front of the television, along with Chet, who had also had a late night out. He had too much on his mind and was too tired to care about any New Year’s Day football games. Roy had found that a bit unsettling. As a matter of fact, he found Johnny’s standoffish mood the entire day more unsettling.

The next morning 51’s A shift went their separate ways. Johnny left quickly, with barely a word to Roy. Feeling a little cast aside, Roy decided that he would stop by at Johnny’s that afternoon and see what was up with his partner.  Pangs of guilt still ate at him over the previous month’s events, and the mysterious phone call that Johnny had taken during their last shift bothered him.

So, clutching a paper plate full of cookies that his daughter Jennifer had made for her Uncle Johnny, he waved good-bye to his wife and slid into his Porsche, ready for the ten minute drive to his partner’s home.

He was stunned to see a ‘For Sale’ sign in Johnny’s front yard as he pulled into the driveway, and an ominous feeling began to envelope him.

Getting out of the car, he forgot the cookies lying on the seat, and walked toward the garage, where he could hear a football game blaring from Johnny’s radio. Two feet belonging to its owner were sticking out from under Johnny’s car.

When Johnny didn’t answer Roy’s ‘Johnny?’, Roy nudged the bottom of one of John’s feet with his toe. The next thing he heard was a loud bang, and an irritated, “Ow!” then another expletive, before Johnny rolled himself out from under the car, rubbing his forehead.

He looked up at Roy in surprise, and standing up, turned off his radio. He continued rubbing his head.

“Sorry,” Roy apologized. “You okay?”

Johnny shrugged it off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m kinda of surprised to see you here. Did you call?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh,” it occurred to Johnny that he still didn’t really know why Roy had stopped by.

Awkwardly, Roy tried to start up a conversation and commented, “I see you’re selling your house.”

Caught off guard for a moment, Johnny had forgotten about the telltale ‘For Sale’sign in his front yard. He had planned to break the news that he was leaving to Roy tomorrow sometime during their shift when they had a quiet moment. Now he was going to have to tell him today, and he felt unprepared, not yet having rehearsed the words properly. His discomfort was obvious, and he stammered out, “Uh, yeah.”

Roy sensed his nervousness and started to feel uncomfortable himself. “Why? I thought you liked this house.”

“I – I do. I…I just, well, it’s just that I guess I really don’t like the suburbs, you know? I mean, this is more of a neighborhood for a family with kids to live in. I…don’t really fit in here. I think I’d rather live somewhere more remote.”

“Oh,” Roy nodded, a small niggling in his mind told him he was unconvinced. “Well, where’re you moving to?”

Johnny looked away, and slowly picked up a wrench that was lying near by. He examined the wrench a moment, then his eyes met Roy’s, and Roy saw a mixture of regret and sadness in Johnny’s expression as he gave his barely audible answer, then looked away. “To Colorado.”

Roy wasn’t sure he had heard him correctly. He hoped he hadn’t anyway. “What did you say?”

Johnny swallowed and looked Roy in the eye this time. “To Colorado,” he said slightly louder.

It took a moment for Roy to form his next question. His heart felt like it was stuck up in his throat, and even though he knew the answer, he asked the next question anyway. “Why?”

Johnny sighed. He hated this, and could already see the anguish and self-recrimination in Roy’s face. “Well, I found a job there. In Boulder.”

Roy stared at him.  “Why? You’ve got a job here.”

Johnny drew in a breath and scratched his head, trying to think of a way to present this to Roy without Roy perceiving it as blame. “I just…happened to see an opportunity in the quarterly Firefighter’s Journal, and I decided to check it out.” He looked into Roy’s eyes, trying to sound earnest. “It’s a great opportunity, Roy. They’re starting up a paramedic program there. Not only would I be senior paramedic, but I would be helping train new paramedics as well. Plus, I’d be getting a substantial pay increase. It’s right in the Rocky Mountains; I’d be doing lots of mountain rescues. The place is beautiful.  It’s perfect for me.”

Roy was quiet for a long time. He finally said quietly, “I don’t buy it.” He took a step closer to Johnny and with great sincerity said, “Johnny, I told you if you couldn’t work with me, that I would understand, and that I would be the one to leave. Don’t do this. I’ll transfer out tomorrow.”

Johnny’s expression at that was incredulous. “No! No, Roy. I don’t want you to transfer out.” Johnny saw that Roy was shaking his head. “Look, Roy,” he said in a calmer voice, “I’m not leaving because of you. I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it again, I’m not angry at you, and I forgave you a long time ago. I don’t have a problem working with you.”

“Then why? Why this sudden change? You were perfectly happy here in LA at 51’s before….well, before everything I did to you.”

“Roy, it’s not you. You gotta believe me,” Johnny looked away from Roy. “As a matter of fact, I think….that you might have even done me a favor.” Johnny looked out at something that he seemed unfocused on.

Roy snorted. “Yeah, right. What favor was that?” he asked sarcastically.

Johnny looked over at his partner, and his mouth formed into a small wistful smile. “Let’s just say….you opened my eyes.”

Roy looked at Johnny with great sadness. “Opened your eyes to what?”

Johnny hesitated a moment, thinking of how to answer Roy’s question. “I guess I’d have to say that I’ve come to realize some things about myself that I…” he looked down at his feet, “I didn’t see before.”

“What kinds of things are you talking about?”

“Just things that…I think I need to change,” he answered solemnly.

“Johnny, I don’t think you need to change anything about yourself. And if the things I said made you feel that way, then, you don’t know how sorry I am. I thought you believed me when I told you I didn’t mean any of those things I said about you.”

“I, I do, Roy. I did. I really believe that you don’t feel any of those things toward me – consciously. But you can’t change how you really feel – subconsciously.”

Roy started to shake his head. “No, that’s not right, Johnny.”

Johnny continued, “If, if I had only heard it from you, then, well, maybe I wouldn’t feel this way. But…,”

Roy looked up, his eyes wide with disbelief. “But what? Has someone else said something to you?”

Johnny looked down again, and tossed the wrench he had been holding into his tool chest. “Let’s just say I overheard a conversation about myself that wasn’t very….complimentary.” Admitting this to Roy felt like a hot knife was being shoved into his heart, and his voice broke slightly.

Roy felt his anger building. Who had done this to Johnny? He thought it strangely odd that he should feel this over-protectiveness toward his partner, after what he, himself had done to him. But he was angry, because Johnny had been hurt enough already, and now he had been hurt so badly that he felt he was unable to even stay with the department in LA. With a clenched jaw he asked, “What did you hear, and who said it?”

Johnny shook his head, now sorry he had revealed so much. “It doesn’t matter, Roy.

Roy’s voice rose.“Yes, it does. Who was it? Was it one of the guys? I want to know.”

Johnny looked at Roy with surprise, and just a touch of annoyance. He couldn’t figure out why Roy would be feeling so protective of him. “It doesn’t make any difference, Roy. The point is, I…I know the truth now about what people think of me.”

“What truth? That you’re a fine and competent paramedic? That you’re one of the best in the city? Because that’s the truth, Johnny. And anyone in the department or Rampart will back that up.”

Now Johnny turned angry. “No! You’re wrong! I heard it with my own ears, Roy! No one in that hospital respects me. They think I’m some sort of sleezy….,” he stammered, not being able to find the right word, “….gigolo! They think I’m incompetent – that I can’t be trusted! That I’m accident-prone and a danger to everyone I work with!  I can’t live with that, Roy! Do you understand?” Johnny turned away from Roy. He was so upset he was shaking, and didn’t want Roy to see the hot tears that had started to burn his eyes.

Roy was incredulous that someone could say those things about Johnny – and mean them. If Johnny had overheard someone making those accusations about him, Roy knew it must have killed him. He remembered the impact it had made on Johnny one shift a few years ago when Johnny had learned that Roy had referred to him as a ‘nut’. Just like now, Johnny had quickly forgiven Roy, but back then, Roy had no idea how badly he had hurt his friend. “All I know is that I don’t want to lose my partner because of vicious lies and gossip.”

“Maybe they’re not just gossip, Roy. I don’t know. All I know is that it’s time I examined my character, and that maybe it’s time I made some changes.”

“Running away isn’t going to solve your problems.”

“I’m not running away. I just want to…start over. And this time, I’m not gonnna make any mistakes.”

“You are making a mistake.”

Johnny closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. “Roy, I’ve made my decision. I think it’s for the best.” He glanced at Roy and took in the total look of sadness in Roy’s eyes.

Almost to himself, Roy quietly stated, “This never would have happened if it weren’t for my mistakes.”

Johnny rubbed at his eyes with the back of his fingers, looking tired. “Roy, you’ve been blaming yourself for things that weren’t your fault all your life. This is one time where you’re gonna have to realize that the person that deserves the blame isn’t you. It’s me. I’M the one who’s responsible, and I’M the one who’s gonna have to pay the consequences.

Roy stood in silence for a long moment. He was too tired, too emotionally spent, to argue with Johnny further. Quietly, he asked, “Have you told the Cap yet?”

“No, I wanted to wait and tell him after I told you. I’ll tell him….I’ll tell him tomorrow at the end of the shift before I leave.”

“How much longer ‘till you leave?” Roy asked dejectedly.

“I’m not exactly sure, but I think around three weeks.” Johnny hadn’t called Captain Kirk back yet, knowing he wouldn’t be back from his vacation.

Roy nodded. He couldn’t speak for a moment past the lump in his throat. Suddenly, he felt the urgent need to leave. He was at a loss for anything else to say. Shrugging in defeat, he said, “Well, I guess I better be going.” He turned.

“Roy – ,” Johnny started.

Roy turned back to look at John.

“I…I want to still stay in touch with you after I leave.”

Roy solemnly stared back at him, and finally nodded slowly. “Yeah,” was all he could say before he turned and left for good.

Driving home from Johnny’s, Roy had such a feeling of remorse, he wished he hadn’t stopped by at all. He wracked his brain trying to think of what it was that Johnny could have overheard. Could Chet have said something? He’s always calling Johnny a ‘disaster magnet’. Nah, Johnny wouldn’t be affected this much by anything Chet said – they’re always insulting each other. It couldn’t be Cap; if Cap was unhappy with Johnny’s performance he would have talked to Johnny about it. He thought some more, and then remembered the day in Rampart when he had seen Johnny in the hallway outside the doctor’s lounge, and the expression on his face. He had looked shell-shocked; and now Roy, putting two and two together, realized Johnny must have overheard a conversation going on in the lounge. Nurses always hung out there, and Dixie had said how she’d had some problems lately with gossip. He remembered how radically Johnny’s behavior had changed that day after that incident, and concluded that must be what had happened. Oh, Johnny, why would you get so upset about what some thoughtless gossipy nurses said? Maybe it wasn’t the nurses. He discounted that thought. No, I can’t believe that any doctor at Rampart that knows Johnny would criticize him so badly that he felt he had to leave.

Desperately, he thought to figure out a solution, but couldn’t come up with anything. How was he ever going to be able to convince Johnny that he shouldn’t leave?

It was just now beginning to hit him that Johnny was going to be leaving – for good, because of him. All because of him. The best friendship he’d ever had was over, and it was his fault.  He knew that after Johnny left that they would probably never talk again. His heart felt like a huge gaping hole had been punched into it, and Johnny hadn’t even left yet. He pounded the steering wheel in frustration.

In another part of Carson not too far away, a young fifteen year old boy was planning revenge. Wade Johnson was a rich kid whose career-oriented parents neither had the time nor the interest in paying much attention to him. He’d always had everything he’d wanted, except friends. A bespectacled skinny and awkward only child, Wade was what was known as a ‘geek’ in his school. Constantly he was teased by the other kids, and suffered in silence, not knowing how to fight back. He was an intelligent child, though, thus having incurred the scientific knowledge that would be necessary for him to follow through with his revenge.

He was going to blow up his school. He had masterminded a plan to plant two bombs, which would go off coincidentally when he happened to be out of the building. He had been working on perfecting his explosives for the last several months, and was ready to test them. So, on this New Year’s Day, he was busy trying to find an old abandoned building that he could blow up to see how his ‘invention’ would work.

Late that day, he found the perfect place, and old recently closed run-down motel. He secretly set up his explosives that night after dark and set the timers for 4:00 and 4:05 respectively, for the next afternoon. He wanted to be out of school in order to witness the destruction from a distance.

He spoke of his ambitious plan to only one other person, a boy named Charlie McMann, who was also repeatedly tortured by his fellow classmates for being geeky as well. They had both commiserated with each other at times over the abuse dished out to them, and although Charlie was only a fair-weathered friend, Wade thought that Charlie would be able to appreciate his devious idea at getting even. Also, Charlie was the one person that Wade didn’t want to see get hurt, so he had to tell him, so that he could protect himself.

Charlie had felt nervous about being a co-conspirator with Wade, but was interested in watching the explosions in what Wade had assured him, was an abandoned building. He did not, however, want anything to do with the imminent school explosions, and tried to convince Wade not to go through with it.

Every crewmember felt the strained silence between Johnny and Roy throughout the next day. The two barely spoke to each other, except during runs where it was necessary. At those times, they still worked together in perfect tandem, as if no problems had ever existed between them. Both had so much they wanted to say to the other, but neither knew how to go about doing it.

Among the many other things, Johnny had his mind on his house. His realtor had called him last night after she had shown the house to some people that had been interested in buying it when Johnny had originally purchased it. It floored him last evening when she telephoned and told him about the offer they had made. It was nearly ten percent more than what he had paid for it, an offer he could not refuse. Of course, he had put some money into it with repairs; however, since he did most of the repairs himself, he would be gaining a sizeable amount of cash. Even after taxes, he would have a nice chunk to put in his pocket. And if he bought another property quickly, he might not have to pay any taxes. He knew he had made the right decision when the realtor stopped by with the paperwork for him to sign, but something about the finality of it left him feeling unsettled. He rationalized to himself that the house had been too much work, and that he really didn’t enjoy living in that neighborhood. He probably would have moved anyway. He should have just let Roy buy it in the first place. Somehow, though, signing those papers last night seemed to seal his decision to leave. The closing date was set for three weeks, which would coordinate approximately with when he thought he would be starting his new job. He kept trying to tell himself that just because he was selling his house didn’t mean he had to leave. He could still stay in Carson, stay at this job, if he wanted to. He hadn’t given an answer to the Captain in Boulder yet, and he hadn’t even mentioned leaving to the Cap. Despite the fact that he had told Roy that he was definitely leaving, he was still trying to convince himself that that was really the best thing to do. A quiet voice in the back of his mind begged him to see that he was overreacting.

Roy’s quiet demeanor all that day reminded Johnny of the guilt that he knew Roy was still feeling. He wished he could talk to Roy about everything, but, this time he couldn’t. Always in the past, he had felt able to talk to Roy about any problem he had, but things had changed. A lot of water had gone under the bridge. He’d never be able to make Roy understand that none of this was his fault, he’d only been the catalyst to the changes Johnny was about to make to his life.

For his part, Roy felt miserable. All he could think about was that he was losing his partner because of a stupid careless misjudgment he had made. Several times during the day he tried to figure out how many more shifts he would be working with Johnny, and he fretted over and over about who his new partner might be.

At 3:30 that afternoon, a call came in for an unknown rescue at the old Bluebird Motel. Only a short week ago it had closed for good, after a long tenure of abuse by vagrants, and lack of attention from the owner. The city had finally forced the old landmark to shut down over safety issues. 

Not knowing exactly what the run would entail, both the squad and the engine responded. It turned out that a local drunk enjoying one of his afternoon binges had fallen inside one of the rooms that he had recently discovered was unlocked, and had claimed as his newest residence. He had tripped over one of the numerous leftover decaying pieces of furniture in the room, breaking his leg, and suffering a sizeable cut on his arm. Unable to move, he had shouted frantically to another one of the vagrants who now also inhabited the place, and the man had stumbled across the street to a gas station to call for help. He was too intoxicated to give a clear description of what the problem was, except that someone needed help.

Upon 51’s arrival, the men had begun to search the building, climbing the staircases outside the building to reach each level. It was one of those old motels where all the entries to the rooms were on the outside. They knocked and called out at each doorway as they ran along the exterior walkways. They discovered the man inside one of the third floor rooms, and John and Roy were able to quickly treat him. Given the man’s questionable health, they first hooked him up to an EKG monitor. His vitals were all normal, and his EKG looked good, so the man was bandaged, splinted, and packed up into a stokes, ready to be carried out of the building.

Across the street, two boys on bicycles stayed hidden in the shadows between two buildings, watching. They had come to witness the explosion that would soon ensue. Both were surprised to see the fire truck and squad pull up in front of the building.

“What are they doin’ here?” Wade said indignantly. “They’re gonna ruin everything!”

Both boys sat frozen on their bikes waiting to see if the firemen were going to leave soon.

“Maybe it’s just a routine inspection,” Charlie said.

“It’s not a routine inspection, dummy,” Wade retorted. “If it was a routine inspection, then why did they pull up with their sirens on and lights flashing?”

Charlie looked at his watch. “Wade, we’ve gotta warn ‘em. It’s almost 4:00!”

“No way! You wanna get caught?”

“No, but…well, maybe we could just tell ‘em that someone gave up a tip that there were bombs in there.”

Wade looked at Charlie in annoyance. “They’re never gonna believe that.”

“Wade, we can’t just sit here. Someone could get hurt! Or killed even!”

Wade hesitated. “Maybe not. I didn’t put as much dynamite in those bombs as I was gonna at the school. This is just a test.” He stared impatiently as he watched the firemen enter the building, then looked at his own watch. “I wish they’d hurry up,” he muttered to himself.

The firemen were still in the building. Wade became more and more nervous, now having second thoughts about his plans. Sure, he could care less about the kids at school – they deserved their fate. But he had never wanted to hurt innocent bystanders, and somehow the realization that he may be doing just that caused his stomach to constrict. He looked at his watch one more time, knowing the building was going to blow any second, and he subconsciously he realized that he didn’t want to watch what might happen. Wade made a decision, and started to leave on his bike. Charlie reached out and grabbed his handlebars. “What are you doin’?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m getting’ out of here!” With that, he jerked free of Charlie’s grasp, and took off on his bicycle.

Charlie stayed glued in place, watching Wade leave in horror. What should he do? He looked back at the building. Some of the firemen were coming out now. But they were still too close; they might still be hurt by the blast. He bit his lip, hesitating. His conscience finally made his decision for him, and trembling, he parked his bicycle against the building, and ran across the street. It was one minute until 4:00.

Johnny followed their patient out of the room and onto the exterior balcony and walkway outside the room, then down the metal stairway to meet the others waiting below, while Roy stayed and cleaned up their equipment. Roy had just picked up the trauma box, when, because he had not latched it tightly, the bottom dropped down, spilling all the contents of the box onto the floor of the room.

“Oh, damn,” Roy muttered, and bent to begin picking up all the items that had fallen out.

Johnny was down on the ground assisting with lifting the man onto a stretcher, when he saw a young boy running toward them from across the street.

The boy ran straight to the Cap, who had just picked up the radio in the engine. Before he could speak, the boy frantically clawed at the Cap’s turnout, yelling, “Mister! There’s something I gotta tell you!” The boy looked toward the building with fear in his eyes. Johnny squinted at the kid in puzzlement, wondering what was going on, then turned his attention back to his patient.

Captain Stanley turned toward the youth, and dislodging his hands from his turnout, calmly asked, “Now, just calm down, son. What do you have to tell me?” Captain Stanley could see that the boy was truly upset.

“There’s a bomb in there!” he blurted out. Upon hearing those words, Hank’s eyes popped wide open in shock, and Johnny’s head snapped up and he turned abruptly, having heard the young man’s warning.

Before anyone could react, a loud boom resonated from one end of the building, sending billowing smoke out the broken windows, and debris flying into the air. Instinctively, the crew dove to the ground and behind their fire vehicles to avoid being hit.

In an instant, Captain Stanley was back on the radio calling headquarters for backup. Johnny looked up at the building in horror, realizing that Roy had not yet come out.

Inside the building, Roy had been gathering up his equipment, when he felt the concussion from the blast. It came from somewhere deep in the bowels at the other end of the building, but was powerful enough to cause the room he was in to start collapsing. The wall at one end of the room buckled, causing part of the ceiling to fall. Roy dove for the opposite wall, hoping for protection from the falling debris, while trying to shield himself as best he could. Pieces of ceiling tile, plaster, and debris bounced off him as he ducked his head down and waited for it to end. When it seemed that nothing further was going to fall, Roy could only think, What in the HELL was that?

His adrenalin pumping furiously from the dread that was rippling through him, Johnny ran toward his captain, and the boy. Hank had pulled his HT out of his pocket and spoke into it. His normally calm voice was tinged with barely controlled emotions, and he depressed the talk button on his HT. He didn’t really expect an answer when he asked, “Roy, this is the Cap. Can you hear me?”

 Johnny’s heart was pounding wildly. He swallowed and his eyes bore into the HT the Cap was holding, as if willing an answer to come forth from it. The boy was again urgently tapping his hand against the Cap. “Mister – ,”

“Be quiet, son,” Hank ordered, waiting for an answer. Johnny had just taken a step away to head toward the building, when the HT came to life.

“Cap? It’s Roy.” He sounded okay! Johnny stopped abruptly and turned back toward the cap, relief etched on his face. Captain Stanley let out the deep breath he had been holding.

“You all right, pal?”

“Yeah…I think so,” came Roy’s reply. He was examining his surroundings and informed, “I’m gonna need your help getting out of here though. This place has caved in; the doorway’s blocked.” The exterior door they had entered through from the exterior walkway was the only way out of the room.

“Mister!” The boy was relentless, tugging on his coat. Captain Stanley looked down at him. “There’s another bomb at the other end of the building! It’s supposed to go off five minutes after the first one!” Charlie blurted out.

Hank stared at the boy in disbelief, his mind racing. His senior paramedic had just told him that he was trapped inside this building, and now there was a bomb expected to go off in less than five minutes. He had no reason to doubt what the young man was telling him, since he had been accurate about the first bomb, and now his mind reeled to think of an immediate solution. He knew there was no way to get to Roy in time. A minute or more had already gone by. He couldn’t ask any of his men to enter a building with an impending explosion from a bomb. They could all be killed.

He looked over to the spot where Johnny had been standing. He was gone. Hank spun around only to see Johnny running toward the building at full speed, an ax in his hand. He had no turnout coat or helmet on. Before Captain Stanley could finish yelling, “John, no!”, Johnny was running up the metal stairs, taking two at a time. He called after him once more.

“Gage!”, knowing he was wasting his breath. Resignedly, Hank brought the HT to his mouth once again, and told Roy about the bomb. He had no idea what to say to the doomed man; all he could utter was, “Roy…,” before his voice broke.

Knowing the predicament the Cap was in, Roy bravely responded, “Cap, get everyone back. I’ll…I’ll figure a way out of here.” Hank just shook his head, then turned to his immediate task around him. He had others to think about.

While Captain Stanley barked out orders to his men, he watched in wonder as Johnny climbed the first set of stairs, ran down the walkway, then ascended the second staircase with lightning speed. The other men had momentarily frozen on the ground as they gaped wide-eyed at Johnny’s fearless dash to save his partner. Johnny reached the doorway to the room Roy was in, and readied his ax. Hank knew by watching his man’s steely determination, that a freight train wouldn’t have been able to stop him. With a sickening feeling in his gut, he concentrated on the safety of his men on the ground, knowing that he was probably about to lose not only his two paramedics, but two of his dear friends.

Johnny stood in front of the doorway and yelled to Roy. “Roy!”

“Johnny?” came an incredulous reply from inside.

“Get away from the door!” he screamed.

“Johnny, get out of here! There’s another bomb ready to go off!” Roy said desperately. He knew there was no time. Since Cap had informed him of the bomb, he had tried to prepare himself mentally for the fact that he was very likely going to die today. At the same time, he had tried to find a spot in the room where he could perhaps protect himself from the fallout, but knew it was probably hopeless. He knew he would probably be enveloped in a massive fireball, and he shuddered. Maybe it’ll be quick, he rationalized. A million thoughts raced through his mind, mostly of despair that he would not get the chance to utter any last words to his wife, or say good-bye to his children.

In response of his plea to Johnny, he heard the splintering sound of an ax hitting wood. He heard it again and again, as Johnny repeatedly swung the ax into the door like a man possessed. Down below, the stunned crew of 51 continued to watch mesmerized and in awe at what the paramedic was attempting to do. Each of them was frozen in place, their mouths hanging half open, brows furrows, eyes wide with astonishment.

Roy saw the blade of the ax as it cut through the wood, then suddenly the broken pieces gave away, and he could see Johnny on the other side. Sweat was pouring down his partner’s face, his forehead crinkled in concentration and determination. When their eyes met, both smiled in short-lived relief, both knowing that they were far from being out of danger.

Johnny turned the ax the other way, and with strength he didn’t know he possessed, smashed it against the debris that was holding Roy prisoner. It gave way enough for a man to fit through, and Johnny reached his hand in, beckoning for Roy to take it.

Roy grasped his hand tightly, selfishly knowing that if the building were to go right at that moment, Johnny’s presence would at least be of some comfort in the end. He knew his partner was offering his own life now for his, and his gut wrenched at the thought of Johnny’s sacrifice. Vaguely, he wondered why Johnny would do it.

Johnny would never forget the look on Roy’s face when he first saw him. Roy’s utterly relieved expression and eyes that beheld feelings of great gratitude and deep admiration, made the slim chances of success worth the risk for John.

After being pulled through the hole by Johnny, Roy looked at his partner and said, “You’re crazy, you know that?”

Johnny smiled, and responded, “Yeah, I’ve been called that before. C’mon!” he ordered, pushing Roy in front of him. They were running along the exterior walkway toward the stairway, Roy a few paces in front of Johnny, and had almost made it to the first step, when the second bomb detonated.

Having made the turn off the walkway intending to take the first step down, and with no railing in front of him any more, the force of the explosion from the building behind him catapulted Roy’s body out and away from the structure. He sailed gracefully through the air and then gravity pulled him downward toward an awning over a doorway of the building next door.

Right behind Roy, the railing still beside Gage abruptly stopped his sideways momentum away from the building that was forced by the explosion, and Johnny was thrown painfully into it. He felt the sickening crack of bones in his torso breaking on impact, but wasn’t able to focus on it; just trying not to fall was taking all his attention. The wrought iron stair structure screeched in protest as it nearly lost its hold on the building, and hung crookedly and precariously from the few screws that still held it in place. The wind knocked out of him, Johnny hung bent at the waist, with his legs on the now tilted platform and his upper body hanging freely. Johnny dangled helplessly over the railing, while mercilessly being pummeled from behind by bricks and shattered glass spewing from the blown up building. Everything was happening in a matter of seconds, but to Johnny the whole event seemed to be taking place in slow motion.

Aghast at seeing Roy’s body fall down onto the awning of the building next door, Johnny watched as the flimsy worn material tore away from the building, and Roy’s body slid off it. Arms flailing, Roy fell about ten feet before hitting the ground. He landed awkwardly on one leg before it gave way and he ended up on his back, his arms sprawled out on either side of him.

Unable to even cry out, Johnny mouthed his partner’s name, and made a feeble and unsuccessful attempt to remove himself from the railing. He winced as hard objects assaulted the back of his body, as if someone were standing behind him beating him.

Roy felt his ankle snap the moment he hit the ground, his leg following suit. Luckily, he had fallen into a small patch of grass; else his list of broken bones would have multiplied. All the air rushed out of his lungs, and he felt his head bounce off the withering lawn. Pain rushed into him at the same time the air rushed back into his lungs, and he stared upward, speechless. Pieces of debris were hitting the ground all around him, the noise nearly deafening. Almost immediately the guys were at his side and offered their bodies as protection from the fragments of rubble raining down on them.

Just when everyone thought that the destruction was nearly over, a third powerful explosion burst forth from the building. Johnny felt himself break free when the railing finally tore away from the structure, and the concussion from the blast propelled him into the air. He spun dizzily around, his body twisting in midair, and saw the ground spiraling toward him alarmingly fast. Plunging downward head first, instinct forced him to thrust his arms out to break his fall.

Roy stared upward in horror at the sight of Johnny’s body flying into the air, surrounded by thousands of particles of what was once the Bluebird Hotel. Large pieces of the wrought iron railing split apart and flew in all directions, making loud clattering noises as they landed around him. He lost sight of Johnny as members of his crew again leaned over him to protect his body. Although he couldn’t see Johnny anymore, moments later he heard the sickening thud as Johnny’s body collided with the ground.

Johnny saw the earth heading toward him incredibly fast; then hit it with stunning intensity. He landed face down, his outstretched arms absorbing a large part of the impact. His hands were first, then his arms, and they crumpled beneath him as his face and shoulder slammed into the ground.

Although he was leaning over Roy, and despite the debris raining down upon them, Chet had seen the railing as it ripped away from the building with Johnny still on it, and was unable to tear his eyes away from the fate of his comrade. In shocked disbelief, he had watched as Johnny’s body was tossed unceremoniously into the air like a rag doll, then as he made his head-first descent toward the ground. Chet’s whole body tensed with fear and his stomach constricted in a knot when Johnny crashed face down on the ground only a few feet from him. The adrenalin pumping through Chet at that moment caused him to freeze with terror at the dreaded thought that Johnny, his favorite pigeon, may have just broken his neck..

Johnny’s first cognizant thought as he lay partially on his side was that he couldn’t believe he was alive. Ten seconds later, he wished he were dead.

The ache started in his fingertips and rapidly traveled all the way up to his teeth. It grew white hot and permeated his entire being in blinding pain. Involuntarily, his body rolled to relieve the pressure on his broken limbs, and he lay paralyzed on his back, staring blankly upward with his mouth partially open, momentarily unable to breathe.

Shadows moved over him, and he was vaguely aware of people crouched around him. He felt a warm liquid trickling down his cheek. He blinked, trying to erase the white spots floating in front of his eyes. The spots turned black, and his eyes slid closed. 

From his position beside Roy, Hank raised his head and looked at his fallen men. Roy lay on his back rocking slightly, looking dazed; his eyes squinted in pain. Marco was sitting on the ground cradling his bleeding head, which had been hit by debris. Johnny lay deathly still, eyes closed, about seven feet away from Roy. Mike Stoker stayed by Roy’s side, while Hank Stanley clamored over to Johnny, where Chet had already taken up residence after the fallout from the building subsided.

Captain Stanley had his hands full. Half of his crew was down, and the building was aflame. He wondered absently if the kid had been wrong; maybe there had been three bombs. Or, more likely, the combination of the two caused a third explosion because of flammable gases that had leaked in after the initial explosions.  The boy who had warned him had taken off running after the first explosion. Stanley had seen him out of the corner of his eye riding away on his bicycle, and hadn’t been able to stop him in the chaos.

The crackle of flames grew louder, and smoke surrounded them. Hank knew his crew was dangerously close to the burning and unstable building, but also knew he couldn’t move his injured men. Reluctantly, he ordered Chet to grab an inch and a half to try to put the flames nearest them at bay. Chet hesitated a moment before fulfilling his captain’s order, then taking one more glance down at Johnny, rose obediently to man the hose. Mike dutifully took his place at the engine to control the water pressure.

Marco appeared beside the Cap holding the trauma box and the biophone. He looked a little unsteady, and blood was running down the side of his face from a large cut. “Oh Mi Dios,” he said, as his eyes went from Roy to Johnny.

Cap took the equipment from Marco, a look of appreciation and concern in his eyes, then ordered Marco to sit down.

“Cap,” Marco said, “they’re a lot worse off than I am. I want to help.”

Cap looked around, realizing their help hadn’t arrived yet. “Okay, Marco, but I want you to sit down stay put. Get on the horn to Rampart. I’m gonna try to get some vitals. If you start feelin’ worse, you let me know.”

“Okay, Cap.”

Hank returned his concentration to Johnny, his gut wrenching when he took a good close-up look at him, the comprehension of how serious his injuries were almost overwhelming him. Johnny’s right arm had sustained an open fracture, and blood was flowing out of it. Both wrists were swollen and rapidly discoloring, and his puffy fingers looked mangled and misshapen. Blood was pouring out of his nose, and his face was quickly beginning to bruise and swell, especially on the right side. And those were just the injuries he could see.

Kneeling beside his unconscious younger paramedic, Hank was at a loss of what to do, and felt the panic welling up in him.  Closing his eyes a second, shutting out the gruesome site before him, he tried to recall his basic first aid training, knowing it wasn’t nearly adequate in this situation. Years of experience and training forced him to keep his cool, but his hands still shook as he reached out to Johnny, wondering if there was anything he could do to keep him alive until he reached the hospital. From behind him, an urgent pain-filled voice broke his attention.

“Cap – be careful. Don’t move ‘im.”

Hank turned to see Roy looking at him. Roy was trying to lift himself up, but the pain it caused forced him to fall back against the earth.

“Roy, just take it easy. I wasn’t gonna move him. Now, I want you to take your own advice and lay still. Help should be here any minute.”

“He’s gotta be…in shock….by now,” Roy managed.

“So are you, pal,” Cap answered. “How bad are you hurt, Roy?”

“I…my leg’s messed up. I’m sure it’s broken; it hurts like a bitch.” He licked his lips. “I hit my head…when I landed….but I don’t think it’s….too serious. Cap…let me help you…with Johnny.” Again, he tried to sit up, causing severe pain to run all the way up his leg to his hip, and he gasped.

Captain Stanley ordered Roy to lie back down, and sternly said, “I’m only gonna tell you one more time, Roy. Don’t move. You know better than I do that moving could make things much worse for you.” He paused a moment, regretful of how harsh he must have sounded to Roy. “Look, maybe you can…tell me what to do, until the paramedics arrive. Okay, pal?”

Roy nodded, causing his head to feel like it was going to split in two. “’Kay, Cap.” Roy then turned his head sideways to see how his partner was doing.

Hank returned his attention to Johnny to get his vitals. He could hear Marco on the biophone, and in the background heard sirens approaching. Laying his hand on Gage’s abdomen, he counted his shallow and labored breaths. The sight of the bloody bone protruding out of Johnny’s forearm made him nauseous. He reached for the wrist on the other arm to get a pulse, and gently wrapping his fingers around it, felt for the familiar heartbeat. The slight pressure of his touch elicited a sharp intake of air from his patient, and Johnny’s eyelids fluttered. He moaned.

Johnny was lost in a world of agony. Only half conscious, any movement whatsoever or even being touched by someone caused excruciating pain. The slight pressure he felt on his wrist sent lightning bolts of fire through his upper body. His throbbing face felt hot and tight and he tasted his own blood.

Hank’s fingers moved to Johnny’s throat to get a carotid. He looked deep into brown eyes wrought with pain and tried to produce a reassuring smile. “John, are you with me?”

John’s eyes tried to focus on the face that made the voice, but he couldn’t keep his eyes trained to one spot. Everything felt surreal. He wasn’t sure where he was or who was with him. He saw a blurry face surrounded by white haze, and in his delirious state saw someone he only wanted to see.    

“Uhnnnnn…” 

“Just take it easy, pal. I’m just gonna get your shirt open here…” he reached for the scissors and began cutting as gently as he could.

“Cap,” he heard Roy’s voice and glanced over at him.

“Cap, gotta get that compound fracture covered. Marco, get Cap…some sterile bandages.”

“Okay, Roy,” Marco responded.

Hank swallowed, not looking forward to having to deal with the ugly wound in John’s arm, and continued cutting. He was rewarded with the sight of Gage’s deformed shoulder and broken collarbone, along with massive bruising and swelling that was beginning to appear all over his upper body. His upper right arm above the compound fracture of the radius also looked broken.

“Here, Cap,” Marco handed him the sterile bandages and he began to open them.

“Cap,” Roy beckoned. “Be…careful. Wrap it loose…not too tight. It’s gonna hurt…him bad.”

“Okay, Roy. Thanks Marco.” He then gave Johnny’s vitals to Marco to relay to Rampart.

The sound of John’s gravelly voice drew his attention back to his patient.

“Don’….don’ lea me…..I nee you…,” his eyes blinked lazily, “please don’ lea me again..…”

Hank wiped his hand across his face, shaking his head, wondering what John meant by ‘not leaving him again’, since the Cap hadn’t left his side at all.  “I’m not going to leave you, John.”

Johnny continued his fragmented delirious speech, “…..you an’ mom….too young…..to die….” John’s eyes closed, then reopened. “I nee you bote….. so mush….please…come back…”

It took a moment, then comprehension set in, at least what Hank thought was comprehension, and Hank’s heart broke at his young paramedic’s words. He didn’t know anything about Johnny’s family, but he had always assumed that Johnny’s parents were dead, simply by the fact that Gage had listed Roy as his next of kin in the department paperwork. John’s mumblings  scared him, and he wondered if Johnny was dying and he was seeing his dead parents. He wasn’t sure how to respond, and wished it were Roy here instead of himself.

Knowing what he had to do next, he tried to prepare his unfortunate patient. “John, listen to me. Can you hear me?” Johnny’s eyes were closed again.

“Uhnnn.”

“I’ve got to get your arm wrapped now, so just try to relax, okay? I’ll try to be as gentle as possible.” He looked around once just to make sure the paramedics hadn’t arrived. He saw the police and an engine from 116’s pull up, but was dismayed that their squad was not with them. He began the unwanted task that had befallen him.

As gently as he could, he began to wrap the sterile bandage around the open fracture of Johnny’s arm. It was impossible to get it around the wound without moving it slightly, and when he did, Gage’s face contorted in agony.

“Auuuuughhhhh!” Johnny cried. His back arched slightly and his legs began to weakly flail.

At this, Roy lifted himself off the ground and began to pull himself over to his partner, not caring how much it hurt.

Captain Stanley looked up, incredulous that Roy had managed to drag himself over to his partner’s side.

Johnny was panting shallowly when somewhere in his foggy consciousness he heard Roy’s urgent and encouraging voice.

“Johnny. Johnny, it’s gonna be okay. Just hang on, partner, okay?”

John moved his head minutely, the familiar voice comforting him slightly. Where were his parents? Was his dad still there?

Roy had propped himself up on his elbow, leaning over Johnny. “It’s gonna be okay,” he soothed again. He reached out shakily and laid his palm on Johnny’s forehead. Pain once again shot through Roy’s leg and he grimaced. It was getting worse.

Johnny was moaning now, but unaware of it. Each exhale came out as a soft ‘uhnnn’, but as Roy’s voice droned on, his breathing slowed.

Roy continued. “You did it partner. You…you got me out. We both got out.”

Johnny moved his half open eyes away from the sky and toward the direction of the voice of his best friend. Blurry as it was, he recognized Roy’s face. “Roy - ” he tried.

“I’m here.”

“….O-okay?”

“I’m okay,” Roy said breathlessly, but smiling.

“….S-sure?” Saying anything was extremely difficult, not only because of Johnny’s waning awareness, but also because of the deep ache in his jaw.  

“I’m sure.”

Johnny closed his eyes, and dizziness smothered him like a heavy blanket being laid over him.

From a distance he heard Roy say, “You’re gonna be okay.”

The dizziness turned into nausea, and Gage’s eyes flew open. Roy recognized the signs with alarm. “Cap! He’s gonna – ,” 

Hank had acknowledged the warning signs even as Roy voiced them, and without thinking, he automatically lifted his young paramedic slightly and to the side. Roy reached out with a groan and tried to support John’s head as the Cap held him, and then Johnny’s abdomen convulsed.  Blood from his face and mouth dripped into his vomit as his stomach forced out its contents. When he was done, Hank and Roy lowered his limp body back down as gingerly as they could. At that point, it didn’t matter how gentle they were, because Johnny had passed out.

Roy lay back onto the ground, panting, wishing he could pass out himself. The movement had caused the pain in his leg and ankle to intensify, and he looked around desperately for signs of the paramedics. He could barely stand it anymore, and he knew Johnny was critical. His wishes were granted less than a minute later, when he saw 36’s paramedics running toward them.

Hank Stanley had never been so glad to see anyone in his life as he was those paramedics. Stepping out of the way, he relayed John’s and Roy’s vitals to them both, bringing them up to speed and explaining the basic treatment he had provided. The captains of the other two engine companies had taken charge of the fire so that he could concentrate on his injured men.

John and Roy were loaded up and whisked away in separate ambulances amidst a cacophony of sirens, shouting, and the blast of the fire. Marco had climbed in to the ambulance with Roy, and was now sporting a large white bandage around his head. Captain Stanley ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and tried to pull himself together. He found he was still shaking slightly from the stress of having to watch his men suffer while he feebly attempted to treat them. He took a deep breath, pulled his helmet down over his head, and tightening the strap, ran to help put out the blaze.

John opened his eyes once in the treatment room, but had no idea of where he was or why he was there. All he knew was that he was in agony. A couple of people in the room with him were trying to talk to him. He saw their distorted faces swim in front of his half-opened eyes as they asked some questions, but didn’t recognize any of them. He wanted to try to answer their inquiries, but for some reason, he found he couldn’t get his brain connected to his mouth. He had almost formed the words in his mind that he wanted to express when the room slowly started tilting, his vision blurred to black, and he lapsed into unconsciousness. The trauma his body was experiencing sent him over the edge and plunging into the darkness.

After that, Johnny lay blissfully unaware of what was happening to him. Unaware that his blood pressure was dropping, unaware that his damaged body was starting to release poisonous toxins that could shut it down, unaware that there was a distinct possibility that he wouldn’t wake up to see another morning.

Having finally been given some pain relievers, Roy lay quietly on the examining table in the next treatment room. Someone had called Roy’s wife and she was on her way. Meanwhile, Roy was being prepped for surgery. His ankle had broken in several spots, explaining the mind-numbing pain he had been in. He had also suffered a compression fracture of the fibula. As he lay drifting in and out from the pain medication, he cringed at the thought of how Johnny must have felt with his compound fracture. He knew how much his leg and ankle hurt; the pain John had suffered must have been unbearable. He also knew Johnny had more than just the one broken bone. He’d listened as the paramedics at the scene had described Johnny’s injuries, and knew Johnny’s prognosis must be grave. A part of him had wanted to shut out what those paramedics were saying about Johnny, since he hadn’t prepared himself to accept the reality that his partner might not make it alive to the hospital. Unfortunately, his paramedic training had forced himself to pay attention to the frightening list of injuries Johnny had suffered, in order to analyze the possible outcome. Selfishly, while one side was relieved not to have to be the one to treat Johnny, the other side yearned to be at his side administering his care, thinking that he himself was more experienced and capable to take care of his friend. He hadn’t had a choice in the matter. Now, as he lay silently contemplating the last hour’s events, he hoped with all his heart that his partner would survive.

Roy stopped Doctor Brackett as he was getting ready to leave the room, and asked him how Johnny was. Giving his trademark twitch of the mouth, he told Roy that Joe was with him, and that he would try to get an update. Roy had a feeling the news wasn’t going to be good.

Quite some time later, a very exhausted Hank Stanley stood when he saw Joe Early step out of the treatment room, and walked anxiously toward him. They shook hands. Hank’s eyes were full of uncertainty and questions. Chet, Mike, and Joanne DeSoto filed in around them, waiting to hear the news about Johnny. Joanne was waiting for Roy to be done with his surgery.

“How’s John, Dr. Early?”

As he was always so good at doing, Dr. Early’s face remained calm and unreadable. “He’s stable for the moment. We’ll be taking him up to surgery in a few minutes.” He looked around at all of them, and hesitated ever so slightly at their solemn expressions, knowing he had very bad news to deliver. “Right now what we know is that our young paramedic has a lot of broken bones, and most probably there are other internal injuries we’re not aware of yet. He’s sustained numerous broken fingers, fractured wrists, and a broken radius on both sides, the right side resulting in an open fracture of the radius. Also on the right side, he has a compression fracture of the upper humorous, a broken clavicle, and dislocation of the shoulder. The X-rays are also showing two fractured ribs, and I suspect there may some damage to his lung. Most of the damage is on the right side, which I imagine took most of the impact of the fall.”

Captain Stanley nodded mutely, taking it all in.

“We also found a small fracture to the cheekbone, a broken jaw, and a severe concussion.”

“Is….is that all?” Cap dreaded hearing more.

“That’s enough,” Dr. Early said seriously. He looked around at all of them again. “John’s a very sick man. His injuries are severe, even for someone who’s young and healthy like him. Of great concern is the possibility that severely damaged muscle tissue could release myoglobin, causing hypovolemic shock and hyperkalemia, followed by acidosis and acute renal failure.” He could see the bewildered expressions on the faces of the men.  “Basically what that means is that sometimes damaged muscle tissue can release toxins that can cause havoc in other parts of the body. We’re seeing some indications that this is happening, but we’re trying to counteract it by giving him large quantities of fluids, and we’ll watch his urine output, potassium, creatinine and many other levels closely.”

“Doc, he’s not gonna….die…is he?” Chet asked, a look of disbelief growing on his face.

Dr. Early looked down, then back up. “We hope not,” he said slowly. “We’ll know more after the surgery. If he makes it through that, well, then time will tell. The first twenty-four hours will be critical.” He paused for a short moment. “If there’s anyone you want to call, I think you should do it now. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” he reached out and patted Captain Stanley’s arm, then made a hasty retreat toward the elevator.

The four of them stood motionless, their mouths all hanging half open, shock and disbelief at the doctor’s prognosis weighing them down as if someone had tied anchors to their legs and thrown them overboard into the sea. Joanne DeSoto buried her face in her hands and began to cry.

Roy awoke the next morning with a deep ache in his leg that started from the tips of his toes and reached all the way up to his groin. Joanne had slept in the chair by his bedside all night, and had been with him since the minute he was out of the recovery room, but was now gone. She had left a note for him saying she would be back after she took the kids to school. A neighbor had stayed with them overnight.

The rest of 51’s crew had driven back to the station that night, exhausted and beyond worry, making a futile attempt to sleep. The nurses said that Johnny’s surgery could take the better part of eight hours, so they were unable to wait.

None of them slept that night, wondering if their friend would even be alive in the morning. Hank tried to prepare himself mentally for the real possibility that one of his crew may die that night, but was unsuccessful. Every time he tried to tell himself that he needed to be ready emotionally to handle this, to be able to hold himself together and tell his men, he found himself choking up. Damn it, John! You just can’t die – that’s all there is to it. Don’t make me have to tell my men that…you’re gone. Especially Roy. God, he how would he handle that? I can’t do it. Please don’t make me have to.

The first thing he did when the tones went off that morning at 7:00 was to head for the phone to call Rampart. He was a little surprised, and a little relieved, that they hadn’t heard anything yet. The other men sat around the table, listening in, waiting to hear any news. They heard Captain Stanley mutter a bunch of  “uh huhs,” and “I see,” and “okays,” then he said thank you and they heard him request that he be called the minute they knew anything about John.

Mike, Chet, Sean Andrews, and Charlie Dwyer, all looked up at him expectantly. Sean and Charlie were filling in for Roy and John; a replacement hadn’t been found for Marco yet.

“He’s in recovery,” Cap said with an uncertain edge to his voice.

“Recovery?” Chet repeated, incredulous. “He was in surgery all night?”

Cap swallowed. “Apparently so.” He smiled minutely. “He’s alive, though. He’s alive. At least that’s something.”

Roy spent the day in and out of a haze brought on by the pain medication he was on. His leg and ankle hurt more than anything he could ever remember, and it was all he could do to stay awake for a few minutes. All through the morning he kept asking about Johnny, and was not able to obtain a suitable answer. Even Joanne tried to get information about him, but all she could find out was that Johnny was out of surgery and in ICU.

            That afternoon, Dixie McCall peeked into Roy’s room to see how he was doing. Joanne looked up from the magazine she was reading, and was instantly relieved to see the head nurse. She entered, and keeping her voice low so as not to wake the paramedic, smiled softly and asked, “How’s he doing?”

            “Oh, Dixie, I’m so glad to see you,” Joanne whispered and rose out of her chair to talk to the woman. She looked over at her sleeping husband. “He’s doing okay; he’s still in a lot of pain from the surgery though. Dr. Brackett says he’s going to need a lot of physical therapy, but that he thinks he’ll be okay.”
            “That’s wonderful, Joanne. I’m so glad Roy wasn’t hurt worse. I wasn’t here last night, but I heard the whole story.”

            “Dixie, can you find out anything about Johnny? Roy’s been going crazy not knowing. Dr. Early said last night…well, that Johnny may not make it,” her voice broke with emotion, and she glanced back to make sure Roy hadn’t heard her.

            “I just saw him, Joanne. He’s in ICU. He’s….critical right now.”

            Joanne brought her hand to her head and rubbed at her eyes. “What do you think…his chances are?”

            Dixie shook her head. “I’m not making any bets right now, Joanne. I think at this point we can be thankful that he made it through the surgery. Anything can happen. That’s all I can tell you. There is one thing we can all do right now that can’t hurt though.”

            “What’s that?”

            “Pray for him.”

            Joanne nodded numbly. A moment later from behind her, she heard her husband’s voice.

            “I want to see him.”

            Both Dixie and Joanne turned to see Roy staring at them from his bed, a mixture of sorrow and determination in his eyes.

            They both moved toward the bed. “Honey, how long have you been awake?” Joanne asked.

            He didn’t answer her. Instead he pleaded with Dixie to take him to see his partner. She declined, using the excuse that no visitors were allowed until later that afternoon. The truth was that she didn’t think Roy should see John right now. He was too ill, and Roy was sick and recovering from surgery. She finally promised him that she would come up later at visiting hours and take him to see Johnny. Unfortunately for Roy, however, when Dixie returned, he was fast asleep, and she chose not to wake him.

            It wasn’t until the next day during Captain Stanley’s visit that Roy got to see Johnny. Roy was feeling significantly better than the day before, and when he begged his captain to take him to ICU, Hank couldn’t refuse. Hank had seen Johnny before his visit with Roy. He tried to prepare Roy beforehand by telling him the full extent of Johnny’s injuries, but knew his senior paramedic

was in for a shock. He also knew it wasn’t fair to keep Roy from seeing John, so, with the nurse’s help, he maneuvered Roy into a wheelchair, and together they headed for ICU.

            It was a good thing that Roy knew who was lying in the bed in that ICU room, because if he hadn’t known it was Johnny, he wouldn’t have recognized him. Hank wheeled him up next to the bed, and then told Roy he was going to speak to the ICU nurse on duty to see if there was any new information on John. The shock he saw on Roy’s face upon entering made him hesitant to leave, but he felt that it would be best to let Roy have a few moments alone with his partner.

            Roy stared at his best friend, stunned. The only thing recognizable about Johnny was his disheveled mass of dark hair. He had seen people in ICU before, heck, he had even seen Johnny in ICU before, but never like this. His friend looked like the outcome of some of the worst head-on automobile collisions he had seen. The sight of him brought instant knots to his stomach and almost caused him to turn his head.

            The right side of Johnny’s face was swollen, and marred with ugly black and blue bruises. The bruises spread around his eyes, making him look like a raccoon, and were creeping onto the left side of his face. A large white bandage covered a good portion of his forehead. A nasogastric tube snaked out of his nose and was held to his face with sticky white tape. A blue ventilator tube was sprouting from his neck, and was thickly bandaged, hissing and clicking as it filled Johnny’s lungs with oxygen. Not visible was the wiring and screws keeping Johnny’s jaw tightly shut.

An elaborate metal framework was attached to the right side of the bed. His right arm was bent in a forty-five degree angle, encased in a cast from fingers to shoulder, and was pulled out to the side, secured to the framework by a rope at the elbow. More roping was attached to the cast with metal rings on either side of his wrist, and was held suspended in the air. The cast on the lower part of that arm appeared to have a hole in it, probably at the site of the open fracture, so that the doctors could keep an eye on the area for infection. The shoulder above the cast was terribly bruised and swollen; Roy had been told about the dislocated shoulder and broken clavicle. Under Johnny’s hospital gown, broken ribs were wrapped in more white bandages.

The left arm had the same constricting plaster around it from the fingers to just below the shoulder, and was also bent in a forty-five degree angle.  None of his fingers were visible on either hand. His entire upper body was situated at about a forty degree incline, and was surrounded and supported by thick pillows. There were numerous tubes and wires emerging out of the unconscious man, all with the purpose of keeping this critically injured person alive. Johnny was totally oblivious to his visitor as his life hung in the balance.

            Despite the fact that he was unconscious, Roy hesitated to touch him anywhere for fear of causing any pain. He finally reached a tentative hand out and rested it on John’s knee. He squeezed lightly, but there was no reaction.

            Johnny looked so bad. Roy’s gaze once again fell upon John’s face and he felt hot tears stinging his eyes. God, Johnny, it doesn’t even look like you. No, that man in the bed couldn’t be you. This couldn’t be the same man, not the same one he’d been best friends with – worked side by side with – been brothers with – for nearly six years.  No, this man looked broken and frail, he appeared so vulnerable, almost like a little boy. This wasn’t the funny, grinning, rambunctious, flamboyant, flirtatious and yet totally loyal friend that Roy had come to know, who was also a strong, brave, and serious professional. Those were all the words that came to mind when Roy thought of Johnny. Right now he looked like none of those things. Right now he looked like a pathetic shadow of himself, like someone ready to expire any minute. Roy looked around the room, trying to fathom the reason for this. How can this be?

            If only I hadn’t dropped the trauma box and spilled everything. If that hadn’t happened, then I probably wouldn’t even have been in the building when the bomb exploded. Oh God, I’ve done it again. If I hadn’t been so careless, I wouldn’t even be sitting here thinking this right now. Neither one of us would be in the hospital. Oh God, Johnny, all I’ve done the past few months is cause you pain and heartache. No wonder you wanted to leave LA.

            Roy rested his forehead on his fist as his guilt once again engulfed him. He didn’t know how long he had been resting there when he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. The hand lingered a moment, then it moved to the handles of the wheelchair and slowly maneuvered it out of the room.

Time went by. Johnny was in a place where it meant nothing. Sometimes, minute fragments of consciousness filtered through the fog in his mind, offering him fleeting glimpses of awareness. In those brief moments, he struggled to grasp a hold of some small strand of reality, but each time he tried, he found himself slipping backwards to the dark place that seemed to be holding him captive.

            When he was finally able to swim through the thick muddy recesses of his mind and actually touch the surface, the first thing he became aware of was that his body felt like it was encased in lead. His arms and hands felt weighted down. His face felt thick and tight and full of pressure. Something stiff had attached itself to his throat, and he felt a thickness running inside his nose and down his throat. He was very uncomfortable. His body felt foreign to him. All his limbs felt heavy and he didn’t have the strength to move. A feeling of panic coursed through him as he considered the fact that he might be paralyzed. Motivated by intense fear, he tried to struggle, and discovered that he was able to move his legs. The next sense that he became aware of was sound. Suddenly, loud alarms were assaulting his ears, which made him want to struggle more. Insistent voices buzzed around him, surrounding him. He couldn’t make sense of anything they were saying. Hands were touching him. Suddenly his head was pounding, his body consumed with fire. He heard someone moaning from deep inside a tunnel. He tried to scream but couldn’t open his mouth.

            Throughout the next few days, those brief periods of lucidity became more and more frequent. Each time they happened, he stayed at the surface longer, until after a time, he couldn’t stand it any longer and would descend back down into his murky comfort. During his last episode, he had opened his eyes briefly to behold someone whom he thought was familiar. After that, he tried harder each time to make that connection.

            Johnny sensed someone calling his name. He wasn’t sure whether he was really hearing it or just imagining it. The voice persisted. The muddy substance he was swimming through became thinner and he pushed himself through it. The voice became clearer. It was telling him to open his eyes. It sounded gentle and friendly. He focused all his attention on making his eyelids work. It was hard to ignore all the uncomfortable sensations surging through his body, but at least the stiff attachment to his neck seemed to be gone, and his chest felt lighter.

            Groggily, he forced his eyes open. They felt sticky and swollen; one didn’t seem to want to open all the way. A face was smiling down at him. Two faces. He tried to smile back, but that caused pain and his eyes squinted shut in reaction.

            “Johnny?” The voice questioned.

            He slowly opened his eyes back up.

            “Hey,” one of the beautiful faces said, smiling. It was Dixie. He stared at her a long time, glad that she was there.

            “That’s good,” she crooned. “You’re doing great, Johnny.”

            Doing great at what? he thought. Lying here like a dummy? He tried to make his mouth work. It was strange, for some reason, he couldn’t get his mouth to open. He tried anyway. In a gravelly voice he asked, “Wha…wha day…iz it?”

            “It’s Tuesday, John.”

            He considered this a moment, the answer didn’t mean anything. “Oh,….good….” His eyes refused to stay open any longer. He slipped back into his murky surroundings.

            Roy heard a soft knock on his door. It was evening and Joanne had left to take care of getting the children to bed. His kids had visited him that afternoon after school, and their exuberant presence had cheered him up. He didn’t have to wonder long who it was knocking. Dixie poked her head in to see if he was asleep.

            “Hey, Roy.” She smiled as she entered.

            “Hi, Dixie,” he returned the smile.

            She perched herself on the edge of his bed, and looking around, picked up an old newspaper that Roy had been looking at. The headline had prompted her to examine it.

            It read, ‘Brave Firefighter Nearly Loses Life Saving Partner’, and next to the article was a recent department photo of Johnny smiling.

            “That partner of yours is a real hero.”

            “I know it,” Roy said somberly. “Dix, I wouldn’t be here right now if he hadn’t….that building was gonna blow and he knew it. He…he didn’t care…” his voice trailed off.

            “You would have done the same thing for him, Roy. That’s why you guys are so special. That’s why the two of you are practically a legend around here.”

            “Oh, come on, Dix. A ‘legend’?”

            “You’re damn right. The two of you command more respect around this hospital and the fire department than you realize.”

            Roy looked down. Because of me Johnny doesn’t feel like he has anyone’s respect any more. Because of me, he’s planning on leaving.

            “You know,” she said, “I always knew Johnny was brave – all of you are. I don’t know how you guys go out there and risk your lives every day. Roy, you’ve been so worried lately that John wouldn’t be able to forgive you for what you did, that he wouldn’t want to continue your friendship. I think this proves exactly how John does feel about you, don’t you?”

            Roy swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Yes,” he answered, but thought to himself, maybe, but Johnny was acting on instinct – he’s always done that. That’s what makes him such a good firefighter. He would have done it for any of the guys. But I’ll never understand why you did it for me, Johnny, after what I’ve done to you. I just wish there was some way for me to prove to you how wrong you are about not being respected.

            They made small talk for another minute and discussed when Roy was to be released, then the talk inevitably turned to Johnny’s condition. Roy had been visiting Johnny daily for short visits, and Dixie usually stopped by his room to update him on Johnny’s progress at the end of each day. It had been four days since the accident. He looked at her expectantly.

            “Johnny was talking earlier.” She smiled, knowing that bit of information would please her patient.

            Roy pushed himself up in the bed. “He – he was? W-what did he say?”

            “He asked me what day it was.”

            Roy waited for more. “Is that all?”

            “Yes, except he said ‘oh, good’ when I told him what day it was. Then he fell back asleep.”

            “Oh.” Roy was a little disappointed; he was hoping for more.

            “It’s a good start, Roy. He recognized me, I could tell. He is making progress. Considering the severity of his concussion, I’d say it’s a big step. Also right now he’s so loaded up with pain-killers he can’t think straight. Oh, and we took him off the vent. His lungs sound clear, and his kidneys are also functioning better today. Those are very positive signs, Roy.”

            Roy nodded slowly. “Can you take me to see him?”

            Dixie smiled knowingly. She knew he was going to ask her that. “Not tonight, Roy. It’s late. I promise I’ll stop by on my first break tomorrow and take you, okay?”

            “Okay. But if I’m asleep –”

            “I know. I’ll wake you up. I promise.” Roy had given Dixie all kinds of hell the other day when she had promised to take him to see Johnny, but then didn’t wake him when he had fallen asleep. She patted his good leg. “Now, you get some rest so that you’ll be looking good when you talk to that partner of yours tomorrow.”

            He smiled wanly. “I will.”

            “Good-night, Roy.”

            “’Night.”

            Dixie turned out the light over Roy’s bed and left the room.

            The next morning couldn’t come quickly enough for Roy. He was practically bouncing off the walls when Dixie arrived at 10:00 to take him to see Johnny. When they arrived in ICU, Johnny appeared no different that the day before. He still looked awful. Dixie gently touched Johnny’s good cheek and leaned over him.

            “Johnny? You’ve got a visitor. Can you wake up for me?”

            Roy saw his foot move slightly under the covers, and when Dixie prodded him again, his eyes slowly opened. After patting Roy on the shoulder, she turned and left the room.

            John’s eyes lazily scanned the room, then not finding the object of discussion, concluded that no one was there, and his eyes drifted shut.

            “Down here,” Roy prompted from his wheelchair. “Johnny?”

            Once again the eyelids slowly lifted and Roy moved a little closer to the bed. As John’s eyes settled on Roy, he managed a raspy, “Roy.”

            Roy offered an encouraging smile. Regretting it the minute he said it, he asked, “How’re you feelin’?”

            John closed his eyes briefly, then reopened them, trying to process the question. The answer would have been ‘awful’, but what came out was “uhnng”.

            “Take it easy.”

            John’s eyes were dull and looked so tired. With great effort he asked, “R-roy, whaz wrong wid me? Wha-wha happened ta me?”

            Though he knew memory loss was common in severe trauma cases, Roy wasn’t prepared for the fact that Johnny might not remember.  “Don’t you remember?”

            The half-open brown eyes looked confused. “N-no,….waz I in ‘n acc’dent?”

            Roy wasn’t sure how much to reveal to his friend. He didn’t want to get him upset. “Well, sort of. You…you had a bad fall…at a rescue.”

            Johnny tried to make sense of this information. Blinking, he tried to move, finding he was unable. That small effort caused a shock wave of pain to echo through his limbs, and he gasped.

            “Easy,” Roy comforted.

            When Johnny reopened his eyes again, it finally registered that Roy was in a wheelchair. Not only was he in a wheelchair, but he was also in his pajamas, and as John’s eyes moved downward, he noticed the cast wrapped around Roy’s leg and foot, which was propped up horizontally in the wheelchair. As the meaning behind this became clear, Johnny’s eyes opened wider and he affixed his gaze on his partner. “Why…why’re you in wheelshair?” he slurred. Between the pain medication he was on and the fact that his jaw was wired shut, Johnny’s speech was a little muddied.

            Roy chuckled, trying to downplay his own injury. “Well, I had a little fall myself. But, hey, I’m okay. Broke my leg and my ankle, but the doc says I’ll be on my feet in no time.”

            Johnny continued to regard Roy, a confused stare glued on his face. Finally, he looked away.

“Wha kind a rescue waz it?”

            Roy tried to pick his words carefully. “It was…an explosion, at an old hotel. We both fell over the railing. I hit an awning that broke my fall; you…weren’t quite as lucky.” Roy looked at Johnny, trying to determine if he was remembering anything. Johnny merely closed his eyes once again. Thinking it was best to change the subject, he asked, “Is there anything I can get you?”

            Johnny considered the question a moment. “Dis, dis ting, tube in my nose…down my throad…is….really…uncom-table. Can you…take it oud?”

            Roy knew that Johnny wasn’t thinking clearly now, or he wouldn’t have asked Roy to take out the NG tube. “Johnny, that’s a nasogastric tube; I can’t take it out. I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s there to help you.”

            “Ungh….can’t…swallow. Hurts.”

            “I know. Look, I’ll try to find out how long you have to have it, okay?”

            This conversation was becoming too much for Johnny. He didn’t have the strength to answer. In response, he sighed and closed his eyes again.

            A moment later, he heard a soft voice say, “Roy, times’s up. He needs his rest. Let’s get you back to your room.”

            As he was being wheeled away, Roy turned and looked back at his friend. “Bye, Johnny.”

            Johnny was unable to acknowledge his departure.

            Two days later Roy sat in Johnny’s room gazing out the window, while Johnny slept. He’d had a bit of a scare that morning when he entered the ICU to visit Johnny and found he was no longer occupying any of the beds.  After a frantic moment of assuming the worst, Roy was informed that Johnny had been moved out of ICU and was in a regular hospital room. This was good news; it meant that Johnny had improved enough that the doctors thought he was no longer in danger.

            Rustling noises from the covers got his attention, and Roy hoped Johnny was waking up. Johnny’s head was slowly moving from side to side, and he was mumbling slightly. His feet began to make peddling motions, and Roy concluded he was dreaming. Suddenly, Johnny jerked, his body trying to wrench upwards, but it was held fast in place by all the traction.

            He’d been having this same dream for a couple of days now. In it he was always falling, and during the fall his father or mother would always be there floating alongside him, reaching out to him, as if to catch him. His arms would flail in an attempt to grasp their hands, but never seemed to be able to grab hold. Their faces had an urgent and determined look to them, and their eyes were full of sadness and sympathy. Their mouths moved, but Johnny couldn’t understand what they were saying. Perhaps they were trying to tell him what to do to save himself. Just when their fingers were nearly touching, they would disappear, and Johnny would hit the ground, waking up immediately from the nightmare. This dream was a little different from the last one, because Johnny’s brother was in it, instead of his parents. Each time he awoke terrified and shaking, and this time was no different.

            “David!” he choked out, as much as his clamped jaw would allow him. His glazed eyes flew open and had a wild look about them as they quickly darted around the room. They were glistening with unshed tears. Johnny’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest it was pounding so hard, and his breathing was rapid. His legs were still writhing under the covers when Roy laid his hand on his partner’s foot to comfort him.

            “Johnny,” he called softly, trying to bring him out of it. He couldn’t help but wonder who this ‘David’ was whose name Johnny had called out, but he didn’t ask, not wanting to add to the anguish his partner was obviously experiencing. “Johnny,’ he said again, “hey, it’s Roy. Wake up.”

            Johnny’s eyes moved to the source of the voice in the wheelchair, and after blinking several times to clear his vision, realized who was trying to get his attention.

            Roy tried to disguise the strained expression of concern on his face, and forced a reassuring smile at him. He patted John’s lower leg saying, “It’s okay, Johnny. You were just dreaming.”

            Johnny’s head was pounding and he wished he could lick his lips. His mouth was so dry and his throat hurt. When he finally realized he was only dreaming again, he relaxed slightly, giving in to all the metal framework that was holding him down. “R-roy,” he acknowledged simply.

            “Hey, partner. Roy reached for the cup of water on Johnny’s tray table. “You thirsty?”

            “Yeah,” he croaked, and Roy held the straw up to Johnny’s mouth so he could take a drink. “Thanks,” he said with teeth gritted together when he had finished.

            “You’re welcome. I see they took the NG tube out. I bet you feel much better without that thing in.”

            “Uh huh.”

            Roy tried to be cheerful. “Well, I’m glad to see they let you out of that cage and into another one with a better view.”
            “Yeah,” he nodded his head slowly, grimacing, as even that small amount of movement caused pain.

            “At least you don’t have to look at the parking lot like I do,” Roy mused.

            Right now Johnny could care less what he looked at, but the statement did remind him that he wasn’t the only one in the hospital. He looked down at Roy in his wheelchair, trying to assess how he was doing.

He now remembered everything that had happened at that hotel, right down to the point where the boy rushed up to Captain Stanley to inform him of the two bombs. That was something John Gage would never forget, nor the feeling down in the pit of his stomach when he heard it. The memory had come to him in another dream, forcing him to recall the horrible circumstances that had put him and his partner in the hospital.

Another thing he now knew was the extent of his own injuries. Dr. Early and the orthopedic surgeon had given him a damage report the day before, and he knew that not only was he in store for a very long rehabilitation, but that there was a possibility that these could be career ending injuries. Not only were some of the broken bones severe, but he had also seriously damaged some of the muscles, nerves, and ligaments within his arms. More surgeries were distinct possibilities down the road; at the very least he would have to be put to sleep again to remove all the screws and wires holding his broken jaw closed. The biggest obstacle would probably be getting full use of his fingers and hands back, necessary equipment for the type of work that he did. Without those, all the experience in the world would still render him useless as a paramedic, rescue man, and even as a firefighter. That information had almost stolen his breath away, but he wasn’t about to prove the doctors right. It was still very early in the healing process, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to make it back to work. Apparently, the orthopedic surgeon didn’t know the invincible Johnny Gage. He’d already made up his mind he was going to fight tooth and nail to get back to his job.

Johnny tried to clear his throat before he spoke again. He looked at Roy with concern, gesturing with his eyes to his leg. “How bad?”

“My leg, you mean?”

Johnny nodded minutely.

Even though he’d done a good number on his ankle, he didn’t want Johnny to know that the injury was pretty serious. A different orthopedic surgeon had done the work on Roy’s leg and ankle, and he was optimistic about Roy’s recovery, but gave no guarantees. Roy reasoned that Johnny had almost lost his life trying to rescue him; he wanted John to believe that he indeed saved him from

serious injury, which he did. More than that, he saved him from an almost certain death.

Roy stretched the truth just a bit when he said, “It wasn’t too bad. The break in my leg was a clean fracture; my ankle got a little more crunched up. Between the two of us, we won’t be able to pass through the metal detectors at the airport,” Roy joked, trying to squeeze a smile out of John. When he didn’t, he continued, “The docs think I’m gonna be just fine. I’ll need a few weeks in the casts, then some physical therapy. I just hope I don’t have to work with Brice again while I’m waitin’ for you to get back.” Roy elected not to tell John about his own concussion, especially since it wasn’t serious.

You might have a long wait, partner.  John forced a half-smile at Roy’s comments. He was now at the point where he was wishing Roy would leave. He was hurting and just wanted to go back to sleep; even this short conversation had taken a lot out of him.  

Roy desperately wanted to convey his feelings of gratitude to Johnny for what he did, only he wasn’t sure that Johnny knew everything that happened yet. Unless he remembered something as early as yesterday, Roy assumed that John was still unclear as to what had happened. He felt it would be better if they talked about it when John was a little more alert and feeling better.

Johnny’s had just let his eyelids slip shut again when Chet and Marco walked in.

“Hey, John..”

“Hi, Johnny,” they said simultaneously. They both walked over near the bed. The chair made a loud scraping noise against the floor as Chet pulled it up next to the bed and sat down, while  Marco stayed standing at the foot of the bed. Roy was on the other side in his wheelchair.

“Well, it’s about time you woke up, Gage. You’ve been sleepin’ on the job a little too much lately.” Chet was his usual self, hiding his concern for his friend with teasing. Chet had been to see Johnny several times since the accident, but Johnny had been unconscious during each visit. As bad as he looked, Chet was relieved to see that his friend had his eyes open and seemed alert.

If he hadn’t have felt so miserable Johnny would have been glad to see Chet. He could always count on him to liven things up a bit. He had only been laid up in bed for a few days, and already he could hardly stand it. He didn’t know how he was going to get through the next six weeks of being confined to a hospital bed surrounded by traction. He responded to Chet with, “Sorry, dey’ve been keepin’ me kinda…out of it.”

“Oh. Well, glad to hear there’s no change from your usual state of mind then,” Chet quipped.

Roy rolled his eyes.

Johnny gave a very weak, “Ha-ha,” in response. His mind was too cloudy to come up with anything better.

“Johnny’s looking a lot better today, don’t you guys think?” Roy commented.

Chet glanced over at Marco with a look in his eyes that bespoke the need for Roy to be committed to an insane asylum. A long silence ensued and Marco surreptitiously elbowed Chet in the ribs.

Chet grunted. “Oh! Oh, yeah…Gage looks….much better than…than…uh, he did the other day.”

Johnny eyed his friends. “You guyz’r…full ‘a shit.”

“No really, John. I think there’s been a big improvement. Most of the black and blue marks have changed to a nicer shade of purple and yellow.”

“Chet - ” Marco started.

“You know, John. It’s just a shame it’s not Halloween.”

Marco looked warily at Chet out of the corner of his eyes. “Why’s that, Chet?”

“’Cause you’d have the perfect costume.”

The three firemen stared at Chet, waiting for the punch-line.

“You’d make a perfect mummy,” Chet said thinking himself very funny. Roy rolled his eyes again.

“At leas’ I…  I need a costume,” Johnny bantered back at him.

Not to be outdone, Chet came back with, “No you don’t. Your face alone would scare the hell out of Frankenstein.”

 That hadn’t been a smart thing to say, and the small hint of a smile that John had fell away from his face. It called attention to the fact that Johnny had a facial injury, and up ‘till now, he hadn’t thought about what he might look like. He looked away, the constant throbbing in his face suddenly reminding Johnny of its presence. Now he really just wished everyone would leave. He closed his eyes again, hoping that would facilitate their departure.

Marco tried to cover for Chet’s insensitive comment by quickly changing the subject. “You know, everyone in the department is talking about what you did for Roy, John.”

Much as he didn’t want to talk to anyone any more, that statement caught his attention. He pulled his eyes back open. “Wh-wha’d I do?” he asked, becoming uncomfortable with the fact that ‘everyone’ in the department would be talking about him.

Roy looked over at Marco with a mixture of caution and uncertainty on his face. He shook his head minutely, hoping Marco would notice and not tread into those waters right now, but he didn’t.

“What’d you do?” Marco asked incredulously. “You saved Roy from being trapped in that old hotel when that bomb exploded! Man, I thought you were crazy when I saw you flying up those stairs two at a time to get Roy out. I guess the man upstairs was watching out for you guys; I thought for sure we were going to lose you both that day.”

Roy could tell by John’s response and his lack of surprise that he did now remember what happened. Trying to downplay Marco’s compliment, Johnny simply stated, “ I’m sure any a’ you guys woulda….done da same ting.”

“Well, I was ready to go up myself, but John here got in my way. I’m sure I could’ve got Roy out before the bomb exploded. The problem with you, Gage, is you’re just a disaster magnet,” Chet said, gesturing his hand to Johnny’s bandaged body. Everyone knew he was kidding by the mischievous look on his face, but Marco and Roy both looked disgusted with him.

“Right, Chet. I’m sure with those short legs of yours you would’ve been able to outrun Johnny,” Marco said.

“Absolutely.”

“Don’t let him fool you, Johnny. He’s done nothing but brag about the heroic thing you did to everyone and anyone who’d listen.”

Roy raised his eyebrows at Chet. “Oh, yeah? Well, that’s very nice of you, Chet. Glad you realize what an asset Johnny is to our crew.”

Embarrassed now, Chet tried to cover by changing the subject. “So, uh, how long do you have to be in this contraption John?” He pointed at the traction.

Johnny was noticeably uncomfortable now, and couldn’t wait for them all to get the hell out. He didn’t want to be rude, but he needed some more pain medication bad, and he didn’t want to summon the nurse while they were there. “Umm,” Johnny felt his eyelids wanting to close on their own account, but forced them to stay open, “’bout six weeks….I guess. Den I get my jaw unwired. After dat….physical terapy.”

Roy saw the lines of pain drawn tight across Johnny’s face and mentally kicked himself for not suggesting that they all leave. He’d been so glad that Johnny was actually participating in the conversation that he didn’t realize how much it took out of his friend. He could clearly see he was suffering now.

“Hey Roy, you think the docs could arrange it to wire John’s mouth shut permanently? Then we’d really get some quiet around the station.”

Again, Chet was only teasing, but Roy wanted to scream at him to shut up. Chet had been trying so hard to make Johnny laugh that he didn’t realize how bad his friend was feeling.

Johnny had his eyes tightly closed now, his breathing labored. He turned his head away from them.

Roy took action and reached up to press the call button. He looked up at Marco and Chet and said gently, “Hey, guys, I think it would be a good idea if we left and let Johnny get some rest.” He turned toward his friend. “Johnny?”

Johnny pulled his eyelids open and looked at his friend in desperation.

Knowing exactly what Johnny needed, he said, “I called the nurse for you.”

Johnny’s eye took on a look of relief and appreciation, but he said nothing.

At this point Marco and Chet finally got up to leave. “John, you take care of yourself, man. I was just kidding about wiring your mouth shut,” Chet said, feeling badly he’d teased his friend when he was feeling so sick.

“Yeah, Johnny. Hope you’re feeling better later,” Marco offered.

The nurse had entered the room now knowing what Johnny needed. As she was injecting the blessed concoction that would alleviate her patient’s discomfort, Johnny gazed up at Marco, concerned when his foggy mind finally acknowledged the white bandage across his head.

“Mar, Marco…you…okay…man?”

Marco smiled, “I’m good amigo. No permanent damage done. My head’s pretty hard. I think I took one of the bricks that bounced off you.”

The last thing Johnny said before he closed his eyes one last time was, “Glad…okay.”

With that the three friends departed, and two of those friends pushed the third one’s wheelchair back to his hospital room.

Part 5