Time Out
by E!lf
Grimy, weary, grey-faced with fatigue and shock, my station mates file past me into the kitchen and sit silent at the table. I stand by the phone, alone, leaning against the wall, too lost to support myself. Looking up without raising my head I count the men there with me in the room.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Cap. Chet. Marco. Mike.
No one looks at me.
Johnny's not here.
Cap sighs and rises. "I'm going to call the hospital." He takes the phone. His hand almost brushes my shoulder, but he does not touch me nor meet my eyes.
"Rampart? This is Captain Stanley of Station 51. You have one of my men . . . ? Mmhmm. He was? Okay. Thank you."
Everyone is watching him as he walks with heavy tread back and drops into his chair. No one glances in my direction.
Johnny's not here.
"He was in cardiac arrest when they arrived. They're still working on him. That's all she could tell me right now."
#-#-#-#-
"Bag him!"
"BP's dropping!"
"Flatline!"
"Get me the paddles!"
"Don't do this! Don't DO this!"
"Clear!"
thud
"Nothing."
"Again! Clear!"
thud
"No."
"Come ON."
"Fifty CCs of epinephrine, stat!"
"Nothing."
"Hand me a scalpel. Stand by with the rib-spreaders."
"Don't do this. Don't DO this!"
#-#-#-#-
The men of B shift file in. Wordlessly the rest of A shift leaves the kitchen. Without bothering to shower or change they head for the parking lot. Subdued and sympathetic, B shift watches them go, reaching out in passing to touch a shoulder or an arm. Johnny does that sometimes.
Johnny's not here.
No one touches me or looks at me. I follow slowly. Cap takes out his car keys.
"I'm going back to the hospital if anyone wants a ride."
I am numb and lost and empty. My friends climb into Cap's car and drive away without a backwards glance, leaving me standing alone beside my car. Johnny's Land Rover is parked next to my sports car, but Johnny's not here
Darkness closes in. Pain crushes me again, lancing through me, filling me. Falling I cry out.
"Johnny!"
#-#-#-#-
"I'm here!"
His voice is rough, burred with fatigue and emotion. I open my eyes, blinking against the light, gasping in pain. "Easy. I've got you. Doc?"
Lying on my back. Looking up. Familiar faces surround me, looking down from behind surgical masks. Johnny stands behind my head. From the corner of my eye I can see his hand on the ventilator controls. Brackett holds his hands up away from his body. He is wearing blood-stained rubber gloves.
My whole body is in pain. I writhe in agony.
"Nitrous oxide," Brackett says. Johnny puts a mask over my face and cool gases fill my lungs.
Slowly the pain recedes. Darkness reaches for me again and
I fight it, pushing the mask away.
"Johnny?"
"I'm here. Okay? I won't leave you. I'm right here." He holds the mask firm, not letting me shake it away. A drop of moisture falls on my face and my partner reaches to wipe it away. His hands are also gloved, also bloodstained.
He drops his head, rests his forehead briefly against mine. Takes a ragged breath.
"God, Roy. God. Don't you ever scare me like that again!"
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