Twenty Hours Until Dawn
by Caressa
Roy gave the report to Brackett in a hushed tone, hesitating at the end. As the doctor started to turn away and follow the stretcher, Roy added quietly, "the mechanism of injury indicates he could have internal injuries, including head and spine…. he refused the board…"
The doctor gave Roy a puzzled stare, "Okay," he said, matching the paramedic's quiet manner. He turned swiftly and entered the treatment room.
"John? Can you tell me what happened? Roy's concerned you might have some hidden injuries, beyond your arm and the leg burns." Brackett reviewed the medic's notes, recognized an elevated BP, and looked to towards his patient.
John sighed tiredly, closing his eyes. "Got caught in a backdraft, " he hesitated as the door opened and a second physician entered the treatment room, "had to dive out the window, third floor, to escape."
Brackett's motions froze and he stared the paramedic. "You jumped?" he asked incredulously.
"Dove. . . ," John added, turning away. "Hit hands first and rolled. My legs were on fire; Marco patted it out."
Brackett was speechless. He looked at the paramedic's face. His eyes were closed, his jaw set solidly as he lay motionless. He could tell the man was reworking the fall in his mind. The doctor moved his face down towards John's. He spoke in a whisper, thinking he had misunderstood what he had been told, "the building exploded and you fell?"
"No." Johnny answered. He opened his eyes and looking directly at Brackett's as he spoke, "I felt it coming, I was trying to out-run the flashover so I took the dive through the window at the end of the hall; the flash occurred as I was airborne . . . leaving the window. . ." He paused and took a ragged breath, quietly concluding, "I dove out, then it exploded."
Brackett stared for a long minute at the medic, his words sinking in, finally snapping him to attention. He began barking orders to the nearby nurse. "Full head, chest, and spine. Draw for a hematocrit and crossmatch four units to hold. I want a second set drawn in 15 minutes. BP every 5 minutes for the first 15, sooner if his LOC changes."
"Doc, Doc, I'm okay really!" John was still quiet, but his voice was more forceful now. "It's just the shoulder, some aches and pains, and the burns. I'm fine. Honest."
"I need to make sure, Gage. You launched out a third story window, for God's sake, and I need to be sure nothing will haunt us later. Bear with me, ok? I just want to make sure everything checks out."
John sighed and let his eyes fall closed.
An hour later, Johnny was rolled back into the treatment area. Brackett and Mike Morton were reviewing his x-rays, talking quietly in the corner. Brackett approached the resting medic. He spoke gently, "Well John, you were just about right, but you do have two cracked ribs on the same side as your shoulder injury, and we believe a slight concussion to boot. Ortho will be down to reset your dislocation and the dressings will be changed on your legs shortly. I'll tape and stabilize your chest. We'll have to wake you hourly to recheck your head, but I think it will be ok. You'll feel worse tomorrow, but overall, you are incredibly lucky."
Dr. Morton shifted impatiently behind Brackett. His voice boomed over Brackett's. "Really Gage, this is ridiculous, when are you going to take care of yourself?" Brackett put his hand on Morton's arm to quiet him, but Mike shook it off, " Your shoulder is going to be a mess for a while, sometimes I think you're suicidal! How can you expect your body to hold out with this kind of abuse? How?"
The paramedic was instantly awake, struggling against the pain to sit upright, his voice was deadly quiet, eyes narrowed, "What would you know…" the anger flashed and his voice began to rise, "what would you know about what I went through! I had no choice! If I had stayed, I'd have been instantly incinerated in the heat and flames!" He was yelling now. "The only difference between me and the two guys that died in backdrafts last month is that I was lucky enough to realize it was about to happen!" His voice dropped precipitously, "and 'suicidal' enough to try and save my own life." John held Morton's eyes for a long moment, then fell back onto the cot, visibly struggling to hide any signs of pain, his chest heaving with the effort.
Morton started to move forward, but Brackett angrily shoved him towards the door. As the pair exited, Dix slipped into the open door to check on the medic, glaring at Dr. Morton as she passed. Once outside, Brackett wheeled on Morton as the door closed. "What were you thinking, Mike? How could you attack him, as if he hasn't been through enough in the last two hours?"
Morton countered, "No one can argue it wasn't a crazy thing to do, Kel, no one!"
Brackett shook his head, "Yes, it was Mike, but that's the part you don't get! Do you really have any idea what these guys go through to bring us "nicely packaged" patients? I recognize that you're a pretty new intern, Mike, but you need to open your eyes, and your mind!" Brackett's voice was rising sharply. "Johnny calculated, Mike, in an instant, the odds of living through the two options. It's to his credit that he even knew he had a choice! Not to mention the guts to bust head first through the glass of a third story window, not having any idea what lay beneath him. . .knowing he could be trading for a slower, more painful death than if he had given up!" Brackett seethed with anger. "When Gage is back on the job, you will ride with the Squad for one week, longer if need be. I want you to see the type of situation that lead that man to make such a drastic decision. You need to understand! No protests, or I will take your harassment of that injured medic all the way to the top, and no one will side with you, Mike, I guarantee it!" Brackett glared at the physician, daring him to speak.
Morton paused, then turned and walked angrily away. Roy came up beside Brackett who, was still watching the Doctor's retreat. "Is Johnny ok? What happened?"
Brackett shook his head, "Morton's misguided bedside manner. He actually harassed Gage about jumping."
Roy looked stunned. "He would have died if he . . ."
"I know Roy, but I must admit, I still can't believe Gage did it." Brackett said abruptly.
Roy looked down. "I know, I know," shaking his head, "I don't honestly think I could have made it out. Johnny has an incredible ability of keeping floor plans in his head on the fly. It takes some guts to blindly leap, but John and I both know the what would have happened if he hadn't." He grew silent.
"I ordered Morton to ride with you when Johnny recovers." Roy gasped. Brackett continued, "He needs to see what can really happen out there."
Roy shook his head, his eyes wide, "Don't tell Gage, he'll wish he had stayed inside.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Dix found the medic breathing erratically, his heart monitor beeping in protest to his rising heart rate. She stood beside him, lightly touching his forehead.
He flinched and she instinctively pulled back. "Sorry, I didn't know ….you were here…" He struggled to keep himself together, but she could tell Morton's outburst had pushed him over the edge of coping. "Relax, Johnny, Kel is giving Morton a verbal beating, and maybe more, as we speak." Gage smiled slightly, his face softening.
"Brackett ordered a sedative, he wants you to sleep." She began to put together a syringe, "this will make you drowsy for Ortho, and kill some of the pain from your shoulder."
"I want to wait, Dix, I just don't want to sleep yet, maybe later." His eyes closed and she knew what he saw was disturbing. After speaking to his partner, and seeing Roy's distress, she could only guess what Johnny was feeling now.
"What are you seeing, John, when you close your eyes?" she whispered.
His stoic resolve crumbled at once, having been kept a bay only by residual anger from the confrontation with Morton. His eyes filled, as he fought to maintain his composure. She was shocked, but willed herself not to react. In all the terrible situations she had seen him handle, including being severely injured himself, she had never seen him close to revealing his emotions. She lightly ran her fingers through his dark hair and whispered, "Tell me."
He blinked back his emotions, unable to look at her as he struggled. "I wasn't afraid at the time . . . I knew exactly what was happening. I had come up the stairs and seen the window when I started my search loop for victims. On the way around, I had two more rooms ahead. I knew that because I had counted the rooms on other side on the way in." He paused. He was staring off in the distance, squinting, as if it would make the memory clearer. "Then I felt it. The air changed, like pressure or something . . . I could feel my hair and skin tingle . . . I don't know . . . something . . . and I noticed the thick smoke I'd been feeling my way through had lessened. And I knew instantly that there was no time. I ran full force, blindly, towards that window hoping I'd hit the middle of it and not crash into the wall. I heard the crackling stop and dead silence as the flames retreated and vapors collected, and then the sudden roar of the backdraft of flames just as I shattered the glass. I had been concentrating so hard on the sounds, I vaguely remembered launching through it. I felt weightless, until the explosion shoved me hard, causing me to clear the building. I saw the ground coming fast, so I threw my arms out and tucked my head down, hoping my air tank wouldn't explode on impact. I hit the dirt and rolled away. I felt nothing and everything all at the same time." He stopped and looked at her and then his gaze fell to his trembling hands. His eyes were dry. "But now . . . I can remember running down that hallway and stretching to jump through that glass, hoping I'd really found the window and that I'd make it out, and now I can feel it all, the glass, the fall, and the landing. And it scares the hell out of me." He paused to calm his breathing and rub his weary eyes with his good hand. "I'd say I was crazy, but I didn't want to die." He looked up at her face, his voice pointedly strong "but if I was going to, I certainly didn’t want to be burned alive."
She was shaking when she brushed a stray hair from his face. "Johnny," she whispered, barely able to form his name with her voice. "You're safe now. Safe because you had the insight and courage to follow through, no matter how dangerous and 'crazy' it may seem to someone 'looking in' at the decision." She rested her hand gently on his chest as she spoke, staring into his troubled eyes. "You're safe."
He smiled a grim line, breaking the moment. "I really do need to sleep, Dix. If I take that now, will I still be all set when Ortho puts my shoulder into place?"
She smiled quietly. "Yes, Johnny, it'll be fine. And you'll be fine, body and mind. Not to worry."
She prepped the IV and injected the medications. "I'll sit in when Ortho comes to be sure they treat you right." She cleaned his face with a cool cloth. "Sleep, John. I'll tell Roy you're fine, and you can see him later on. He's pretty worried."
"Okay, Dix. I'm just worn out…" His eyes never opened as he fell into an uneasy sleep.
Dix stayed momentarily looking at the paramedic. She wondered how he could live this kind of life. This was overwhelming. She shook her head as she left, hoping his spirit would heal as quickly as his body.
~~~~~~~~~~~
"HE SAID WHAT?!!!!" Johnny yelled in response to Roy's revelation about Morton's future ride-along. He was outraged. "What did I do to deserve this? A whole week with that guy?" He looked at Roy suspiciously, "How long did you know about this? You're looking guilty!"
Roy shifted nervously, "Well, I . . . I knew the day you fell, Johnny." He paused watching John grow angrier in light of the betrayal. "I didn't tell you earlier because I figured you'd flip out and I didn't want you to get upset when you were trying to recover. Besides, it might just be the best way to get the guy off our backs."
John let Roy off easily, "I suppose you're right, Roy. I would have flipped out, well, at least more so…" He flashed a brief smile. "Thanks for taking care of me, Pally, but I just don't know if I am up for this. I'm worried enough about just keeping up after being out for seven weeks, never mind babysitting for Morton."
"You'll be fine, Johnny, I'm not worried at all about you, but I must admit, Brackett's edict seems to be punishment for us too."
~~~~~~~~~~~
It had been two long days of staring at each other. When they finally got a call, the patient didn't even need an IV. The medics were beginning to worry about the impression the doctor was getting about their work. It had never been this slow.
Morton stepped up to the nurse's station and greeted Dixie. She smiled easily. The ER had been quiet as well. "How's it going, Mike?"
He made a face rolling his eyes, "Well, it's challenging watching these guys get paid for doing nothing," he said sarcastically. "So far I've learned how to hang wet hoses, how to wash a fire engine three times, and how modern firefighters get cats out of trees." He paused for effect. "I now know only to visit the station when Mike Stoker and Marco Lopez are cooking. I also understand why Gage is so damn skinny: he can't cook to save his life and he just might take someone else's doing it."
Dixie smiled outwardly, but was concerned that the physician wasn't seeing the real situation. Just wait, she thought, it won't last, I hope. "Sorry Mike, it's slow everywhere . . . So, how do modern firefighters get cats out of trees?"
"They don't," he answered sourly. Mike caught John's retreating form out of the corner of his eye and quickly turned to follow him out to the ambulance bay.
Dixie shook her head as Brackett came up beside her. "I hope this isn't backfiring, Kel."
He shook his head, "No, it'll be fine. It's slowed down everywhere. It's gonna hit the fan soon enough and then he'll be surprised," he paused and looked her in the eyes seriously, "Just like I was."
~~~~~~~~~~~
It started just after nine a.m. when a call from the police came in for an injured man. The two medics must have sensed that the quiet hours were over, as both grabbed fruit from the table as they ran to the Squad. Somehow they intuitively knew they would not be back for a very long time.
The police cars were everywhere and an officer led Roy into the scene. The officer was breathless. "We have one man down, taking cover behind a car on the corner. We haven't been able to reach him, but there is a sniper," he waved toward a brick building in the distance, "and whenever we try to reach Kevin, he pelts us with bullets. I'll take you to the incident commander, grab your gear." Johnny was already out and gathering the equipment as soon as the officer had mentioned the man down. His expression was unreadable as he stood waiting for Roy to round the squad.
"Morton, it's probably best if you wait here." Gage said unequivocally.
Morton was still sitting in the squad, unsure of what he should do. Feeling slightly out of his element, he nodded slowly as Gage pointed to the HT he had been handed. "If we need you, we'll let you know," Gage said tersely.
Morton sighed. How dramatic, he thought, shaking his head, thinking of what might be for dinner tonight. He hoped Stoker was cooking. He watched as Gage and DeSoto walked alongside the officer to the command area. Setting down their gear, he saw them deep in conversation, and suddenly, with a nod of his head, he saw Gage break away. Gage was crouching down, positioned to the flank of an officer as the two made their way to the edge of the street. Stopping at the curb, he could see them both peering down the street. Gage sat back on his heels for a moment, as if in thought, then leaned forward to look again. The two men spoke briefly, then made their way quietly back to the Command Center seemingly undetected by the sniper.
The exchange had piqued Morton's interest. What could they possibly be thinking of doing? I get the feeling Gage might be bucking for a bullet. He banished the thought immediately, chastising himself for even thinking such a thought. He saw Gage and the officer now talking calmly to DeSoto, who looked rather apprehensive, but after a silent moment and a long look at his partner, nodded slowly. Mike decided to make his way to the Command Center and find out just what the two medics were up to. He stood in the periphery as the men spoke, astonished at the plans they were seriously considering.
"What are you thinking? You're gonna get Gage shot! What good is two guys down?" Morton's voice boomed over them. They all recoiled, startled at his voice, as if it they had heard gunshots.
Gage was livid, answering him in a harsh whisper, "Morton, you were supposed to say with the Squad."
Morton wasn't about to take commands from the likes of Gage. "Yeah right, Gage. Why can't you wait for SWAT?"
Gage suppressed a laugh and answered through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed, "SWAT won't be here for fifteen minutes. The cop has been hit in the arm and the thigh. It looks like the sniper nicked an artery in his arm. He doesn't have fifteen minutes. I can easily decrease the bleeding if I can get to him. Otherwise, he'll be dead. That is not an acceptable outcome, Morton, and Roy agrees." Johnny stared at the physician, daring him to disagree.
Morton looked tense. He was unsure now, looking from the officer to Gage and then to Roy. "You think that's the right thing to do, DeSoto?"
Roy answered immediately, "Yes."
Johnny looked away as the officer handed him a flak jacket. Johnny quickly put it on, reattaching his HT microphone to his shoulder. Roy handed him trauma pads, tape, and some bandaging material to stuff in his shirt.
Morton looked at the firefighter quizzically, "No IV?"
Johnny paid no attention to the doctor, as he reviewed the plan with the commander.
Roy answered sharply, "ABC's, Morton, remember the priorities? If it goes bad, that's all anyone has time for. You can't drag the guy out running and worry about a stupid IV."
Johnny's eyes grew wide as he heard the end of Roy's explanation. If he hadn't been worrying about the next ten minutes, he would have laughed out loud.
"Ready, Johnny?" The officer asked.
"All set, Eric." John nodded and looked at Roy. His expression gave away nothing. Only the two men could know what Gage had silently stated to his partner in that one fleeting second.
John and the officer made their way back to the edge of the street. Eric kept his eyes on his commander waiting for a signal, and one hand on Gage's back. Johnny was balanced on his fingertips, looking like a sprinter at the gate awaiting the starting bell. He looked nervously back to the officer once, then turned towards the injured man in the street, his face veiled in serious determination.
Eric tapped John's back once, seconds after the shooting began. He was off without hesitation, his eyes firmly set on the officer ahead. The shooting continued loudly as he tried to ignore the fear hanging at the back of his mind. He was within ten feet of the man when it happened.
Morton watched Gage's sprint to the downed officer, thinking he never would dream of attempting such a desperate rescue. Just when he thought Gage had made it, the paramedic was suddenly thrown into the air and fell heavily to the ground. Morton heard Roy catch his breath. He instinctively held the medic's arm as he started forward. As soon as he had fallen, however, Gage rolled to his feet and continued running, sliding to the injured officer's side looking no worse for the wear. Morton could see Roy visibly relax as he saw John begin to smoothly minister aid to the policeman.
The shooting continued from both the sniper and the police. Once a seize-fire was given, only intermittent shots from the sniper rang out, pinging as they hit the truck hiding the officer and the medic. Johnny and the officer occasionally flinched when a shot ricocheted off the ground, landing too close for comfort. They heard Johnny's hushed voice over the HT. "He's semi-conscious, arterial bleeding in the arm is now controlled, the leg's hit, but it looks lateral and isn't near the femoral. Heart rate is 120, respiratory rate 20, pulse is present carotid, weak radial. . . so BP's somewhere between 90 and 100 systolic."
Roy answered, matching Johnny's hushed tone, "Got it. Are you okay? We saw you fall."
Johnny looked towards them and replied lightly, "Yeah, punctured, but not penetrated . . . Thank Eric for me, again." Morton swore he could see Gage smiling. John continued in a serious tone, "Let me know when SWAT arrives."
Morton whispered as if to himself, "He sounds so calm and is so sure of himself with this, I never expected Gage to be that way."
Roy didn't move, but answered the doctor, his eyes still studying his partner. "You think you know Johnny, Doc, but you really don't know him at all." Suddenly, the sniper began shooting, pelting the beat up truck tenuously protecting the two men. Roy felt Morton stiffen as he watched John protectively throw himself over the injured officer's head and chest, covering his own head with his arms. When the barrage continued, Roy heard his partner's voice over the HT.
"Roy . . ." John started, stress edging his voice, "could you ask Eric about the warrantee on this vest?" Roy saw him flinch repeatedly, surmising the bullets must be getting way too close.
While John Gage's voice was somewhat light, Eric's was not. "Johnny, SWAT team's here, I'll have a guy to cover you in under 15 seconds! Hang on!" As the team dispersed, Eric called again to John. "He's coming up behind you, Johnny! Don't move!" He sighed heavily as he watched the SWAT officer move in and return fire, effectively stopping the spray of assaulting bullets. When Eric saw the medic sit back on his heels, he called to him. "Warrantee's long gone, Buddy, don't mess it up!" Eric's voice was replete with relief.
Johnny was about to answer, but was cut short when the SWAT officer beside him touched his shoulder. Roy and Morton didn't know what they were saying, but their heads were close as they both spoke. Morton was puzzled as he saw John momentarily grin and shake his head as if he were laughing softly. Johnny turned back and rechecked his patient. "Roy, I think his BP has improved slightly. His radial pulse is stronger. Hopefully it isn't just the gunfire. Actually, I think my BP is better too." Roy smiled and confirmed receipt of John's report.
Morton shook his head at Gage's last comment. I can't decide if he has nerves of steel or if he's plain crazy. Mike Morton kept the thought to himself.
Brief gunfire erupted in the distance followed by silence. Suddenly radios crackled to life. Eric acknowledged a call and looked up signaling to the armed officer by Johnny. The man signaled back. Eric announced the 'all clear' as he ran towards John and the downed officer with Roy and Morton close behind towing the equipment. When they finally reached the medic, John grabbed the trauma box, pulling out the BP cuff and an IV set in one swoop. Morton watched as Roy took the patient's BP and then nodded his okay as John held up a bag of normal saline. Morton observed John as he started the IV, his motions smooth and his hands free of the tremors that were currently plaguing his own hands, which were firmly hidden in his jacket pocket. He couldn't believe Gage was that calm and collected after what had just happened. He had almost been killed. Maybe Roy was right, maybe he really didn't know the guy at all.
~~~~~~~~~~~
At the hospital, Dixie watched as Johnny held the officer's IV, gently guiding the stretcher into the indicated treatment room. She noted that while John appeared relaxed, Morton was greatly disturbed. She was wondering what had happened, and hoped that nothing had gone wrong.
Johnny stood by the nurse's station, coffee in hand, when Morton left the treatment room to join them. Johnny threw him a questioning expression.
"He looks good, John. You were right. If you hadn't stopped the bleeding right then, he would have died. His wife is on her way in." Morton looked at Gage as if he had something else to say, but Johnny thought that perhaps he was fortunate that Morton had kept it to himself.
Eric called to John as he came up the hall. "Johnny, I'm gonna bill you rent if you keep stealing my jacket!" He was smiling. Johnny looked startled; he had forgotten the flak. He took off his coat and undid the Velcro of the jacket, beginning to tear it open when Morton grabbed his hand, stopping him. Johnny looked up at him in question and Roy and Dixie silently moved forward.
Morton said nothing, but placed his right index finger in a hole on the lower left side of the jacket. He silently drew a line upward with his left hand, crossing over John's heart, following the angle and direction of the perforation. He looked up again at John when his left hand rested just under Johnny's right arm. Dixie drew a sharp breath as she realized what Morton was conveying. Roy sighed heavily. Johnny looked at Morton and said quietly, "In my business, almost doesn't count." He paused momentarily, holding the Doctor's eyes, then he looked briefly towards the officer's treatment room, matching his partner's sigh. Looking back at Morton, he pulled off the jacket and handed it over to Eric with a smile. "Sorry, Guy, guess you'll have to get another one. . . just make sure it's loose in the shoulders, that one wicked rubs on the right side."
Eric laughed, his face suddenly becoming serious. "Thanks for going after Kevin, Johnny, we can't thank you enough." Johnny half-smiled, brushing off the moment with a wave.
"Okay, Roy, time to go." Johnny said, watching Morton make his way outside. As Roy and John started to go, Dixie held John back. She looked at him thoughtfully, her eyes brimming with tears. He leaned towards her and shook his head negatively, offering her a slight smile. I'm fine, he mouthed soundlessly. She nodded hesitantly as he turned to follow Roy out to the Squad.
~~~~~~~~~~~
They had barely made it out of the parking lot when the next call came in. Johnny grabbed an apple and handed it to the Doctor. "Here, I have the feeling this is gonna be lunch . . . and dinner . . . and breakfast."
He had been right. No sooner than they had cleared a call, another one was assigned. Once, they had to practically dump a patient in the ER and run out. It was now 1:45 am, over twelve hours and 13 calls since they left the station. Finally, a lull allowed them to think of sleeping.
As Roy drove silently back to the Station, Johnny leaned heavily against the passenger's door, fast asleep. Morton was sandwiched between the two, tired, but very much awake. He couldn't help but go over the day's calls. He felt confused and out of place at times, realizing that the two paramedics knew a lot more about being "in the situation" than he did. He remembered the heart victim they had treated earlier.
Cries filled the house as they entered. An elderly woman and a young man grabbed Roy's arms pulling him in through the doorway of the dimly lit house. "Please, Please! He's dying! He's dying! My God, HELP HIM!" The elderly woman was screaming now, her control gone as soon as the medics had arrived.
"Ma'am, please try to be calm, we need your help!" Roy's voice was deliberately stern, much like a reprimanding father, but was successful in shocking the woman into silence. He continued gently, his face close to hers, "We'll help you, bring us to him." The woman led them quickly to a hallway outside the living room. She knelt down by her husband's head, touching his face with her coarsely shaking hands. Roy laid down the trauma box and the biophone and lightly grasped the woman's shoulders, again speaking softly, "Ma'am, I'm going to move you to the side here, so I can care for your husband." She looked at him tentatively and moved quickly to the side, her eyes never leaving his face. Morton watched the exchange intensely, realizing that in those few short moments and with scant words, Roy had won the woman's trust.
Johnny already took the man's vitals and set up the EKG. "V-tach with multi-focal PVC's," he stated. As he quietly related the assessment to both Morton and his partner, he pulled out the paddles and turned them on. Morton leaned over to study the monitor and nodded to Johnny in agreement. Gage was already pulling out meds in anticipation of Morton's orders. Before the Doctor could relate them to the medic, however, the monitor's quick rhythmic beep fell into a loud steady tone. Johnny abruptly pulled the paddles, confirming asystole on the monitor. "Full arrest! Charging to 300." Roy quickly placed defib pads on the man's chest as John applied conducting gel to the paddles. "Clear!" He quickly surveyed the area as he called out to be sure no one was in contact with the patient. Applying the paddles, he discharged the shock and the man jittered in place. Morton was startled by a loud rending scream as the man's wife lost her tenuous control. Her son was instantly at her side yelling over her piercing cries.
"What are you doing! What's going on! You're hurting him! Stop!! Stop!!" He was clutching his mother with one hand and simultaneously reaching out for Johnny's arm as Gage held the paddles in place, reading the monitor.
Morton felt outraged at the family's lack of control. Couldn't they see we're trying to save the guy? He started to yell at the son, "You STOP and MOVE BA…" but his tirade was cut short his as Roy firmly grabbed his arm, silencing his voice with one stern glare.
"This is their home." Roy whispered softly. When Roy saw Morton's expression calm, he let go and immediately turned to the family, standing up and gently ushering the son and his mother to a distant couch, all the while mimicking the same soothing tone he had first used to calm the woman upon their arrival. The family sat quietly as Roy quickly returned to John's side.
Morton was out of sorts. The distraction and interference by the family were not something he was used to dealing with. Roy's right, it is their home and I can't kick them out… but I wish I could. He was surprised to notice that Gage's concentration had never wavered, regardless of the yelling and mayhem around him. He had thought Gage would react to the outbursts in a more forceful manner. But Gage had continued working silently. Calm and professional, John had focused on the job at hand, trusting his partner to care for the surrounding issues. Morton could tell though, that Gage was alert to his partner's whereabouts, casting a quick glance to him at intervals while seamlessly caring for the patient before him. Morton started to wonder if these guys ever got nervous. Later, he would better be able to read their silent words. Then he would know the truth.
~~~~~~~~~~~
But that had been benign, Morton recollected, compared to the overdose of an addict left in an apartment on Upland Road. As the Squad pulled up to the run down building, Morton was overcome by an unexplainable uneasiness.
"Doc, grab the gear and tuck it in the stokes." John directed. When Morton responded with a questioning expression, Gage answered him immediately, "this might be a wrap and run. Stick close okay?"
Hopefully this time, he really is being dramatic, thought the Doctor, as he proceeded to assist the men in loading up the stokes. Gage took the front end while Roy caught the back and they headed up the stairs to the second floor. Morton noticed that in this instance, the men moved quickly, but deliberately, slowing as they reached the final landing. Gage paused, listening. Catching his partner's eye, he nodded slightly towards the next level and proceeded up the stairs.
Morton heard the cursing as soon as he reached the landing where the medic had momentarily paused. Suddenly, the low cursing turned into a loud and belligerent diatribe. "What the HELL took you guys so long! Get his sorry ass out of here! You got it? Move it now! I WANT HIM OUT!!!" Morton hesitated at the door. The place was a disaster. It stunk of urine and God knows what else. The patient was out cold on the floor and his very strung-out counterpart was pacing nervously in short lengths behind Gage. Morton could see the tenseness on DeSoto's face. He noted that Gage's expressionless 'game face' was firmly in place, and that only a slight twitch at the hinge of his jaw betrayed his gritted teeth. Morton kneeled quickly beside Gage, watching the medic check the patient's pupils and complete his primary survey.
"OD, opiates, with respiratory depression." he stated flatly, in a voice slightly under a whisper.
Morton observed Gage curiously as the medic briefly brushed his hand over his partner's and then casually ran his eyes over the room pausing, Mike noted, in three specific areas. Roy had followed Johnny's gaze and nodded to his partner imperceptibly. Morton casually attempted to see what Gage had pointed out to Roy. He saw nothing in the first spot, but caught his breath by the third. Guns. Morton wondered how John had seen all that in the minute since they had arrived, in addition to diagnosing his patient. A long-lost phrase popped into his head, survey the scene. He had heard it at a firefighter/paramedic continuing ed course Brackett had forced him to attend last year. Morton remembered being indignant at being coerced to go and had been incredibly bored as the speaker went on ad nauseam about the absolute importance of this first rule of approaching a call. He shook his head in disbelief as he watched DeSoto reach over the patient and deliberately straighten his left leg, effectively pushing the partially hidden barrel of what appeared to be a shotgun under the couch, successfully concealing the weapon. Survey the scene. Secure the scene. The phrases, Morton thought, didn't seem so useless anymore.
As the two men quickly packaged up the patient, the drugged-out man's anger escalated at the medics' lack of response to his baiting epithets. Suddenly, he leaned over Gage and grabbed him roughly by the arm, pulling him away from the patient, shouting, "I SAID GET HIM OUT OR ELSE!"
Morton was ready to jump to the medic's aid, but stopped in shock as the slight medic pushed upward quickly and pinned the larger man to the wall. Gage's smooth tan forearm rested firmly across the ragged man's throat, his leg pressed solidly between the man's legs and his hand tightly grasping the attacker's wrist. He leaned in heavily. "Listen to me! You mess with us and we walk. He dies. This time, you go to jail. Lay off, man, got it? You don't wanna mess with us," he hissed in a low threatening tone.
We're going to die, Morton thought, glancing quickly from Gage's menacing glare to DeSoto's matching scowl. The moments passed soundlessly. Morton saw the man staring at Gage's unwavering challenge and suddenly saw indecision etch across the man's face. The addict raised free arm slowly, an unsteady smile curling oddly at the corners of his lips.
"Okay, man, I got no problem. I just want him out. It's cool. It's cool," the man stated lightly. Gage loosened his grip and backed off slowly. The sobered addict moved away under Gage's steady stare. Gage turned back to the patient, his 'game face' sliding solidly into place. Only his firmly set jaw hinted to his distress.
The medics abruptly lifted the stokes as Morton grabbed the remaining equipment. The Doctor noticed that this time, Gage had taken up the rear, and left the room last. He watched him carefully from below on the landing, as the medic paused before leaving to take one last glance into the apartment. Morton heard him murmur a few words. He could only wonder what Gage had said to the violent man. Not another word was spoken until the medics reached the street.
Morton saw the medics alight onto the sidewalk and smoothly lay the stokes down onto the waiting stretcher. The attendants pulled it along quickly to the ambulance doors. Morton closely watched Gage and DeSoto as they stood waiting for the attendants to load the stretcher. He noticed that Gage's shoulder's had dropped slightly and that he was roughly rubbing his eyes and forehead as if to combat an impending headache. DeSoto's hands were in his pockets and his gaze was directly firmly to a non-existent spot on the ground as he slowly kicked loose gravel on the hot pavement. He was shaking his head negatively when he looked up to meet Gage's squinted eyes. Morton was suddenly disturbed by the look that crossed between the partners. Pure relief, he thought. What really just happened in there?
Johnny sighed heavily and taking up a syringe, he smiled broadly at Morton. "NARCAN anyone?" he quipped.
Keeping those emotions in check, John? Morton thought. He answered quickly, matching Gage's tone, "Sure Johnny, but titrate it up. I want him alive, but not kicking."
John paused, then nodded, administering the medication at intervals until the patient's respiratory rate increased to normal limits and was conscious enough to maintain his own airway without their assistance.
"Thanks, John." Morton offered as he climbed up onto the jump seat in the rear of the ambulance. Roy followed behind him. Morton was curious as to why Gage wasn't accompanying the patient. He had, after all, been the primary medic at the scene. Morton thought back to John's telltale clenched teeth and headache. It must have been harder on them than I realize, he pondered.
The ambulance attendant started the engine and pulled forward into traffic, closely followed by the Squad. There was silence as Roy rechecked the patient's vital signs. Morton caught him fidgeting with his stethoscope. Roy abruptly began to speak. "I know you probably think Johnny was out of line and that he should have just backed off of that guy, but I want you to know he really wasn't. Sometimes, it's best to finish things before they start." He fell silent.
Morton looked up. Roy was worried, he could tell. "What happened in there that I don't know about?" he asked.
Roy chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip before answering. "Three weeks ago, two medics were injured when they answered a call in an apartment down the hall from this one. Remember 110's medics? Johnny recognized the guy immediately from a previous call and the medics' descriptions. There were three guys that day. One of them OD'd just like today. They called it in as a medical call, because they know if they say the problem is a heart attack or a seizure that it won't trigger the dispatcher to call to the police. The medics went there and the guy started wigging out just like today, only the medics were compliant and tried to placate him. One of the crew ended up with a broken jaw. That guy today, I think his name is Walton, held the other medic down while his friend held a gun to his face. The cops came and it actually got worse for a bit, which is why Johnny didn't call for them and also why he reacted so quickly and forcefully to the guy. Because he knew if he let him wind up . . . there'd be no winding down. And this time, we might not have been as lucky."
Morton nodded. "I understand," he responded quietly. And he knew that this time, he was being completely honest.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The Doctor reviewed the day in his mind. The medics, especially Gage, surprised him. He had pictured him as someone DeSoto would be constantly reigning in. He was completely wrong: Gage actually took the lead at least, if not more than half the time and calmly, competently, if not creatively, solved problems. They consulted silently, Morton noticed, with barely a word passing between them before they came to agreement on how to handle a call. While Roy was the voice of reason, John was the risk-taker. Morton understood why he got so banged up, but also started to understand why it really wasn't his fault. Some situations were too precarious and total safety was sometimes an impossibility if a life was to be saved.
Finally sleep would come. As Roy pulled in the station, he slowly got out of the squad, followed by Morton. He automatically tapped on Johnny's window. "Johnny, come on, let's get to bed." He looked at the doctor; "He could sleep on a rock. It's something to be envious of." He opened Gage's door, holding it until the medic got his bearings and poured himself out of the rig. They had barely reached the bunkroom when the alarms went off. Roy and John were instantly alert, the men clearing out around the doctor. "Coming, Doc?" Roy called as he ran to the squad. Morton noticed that this time, they donned their turnout gear. Morton listened to the dispatcher call out a structure fire, indicating several engine companies assigned. He jumped in the Squad quickly followed by Gage who was already writing down the information.
The Squad pulled out into the night. It was two-thirty a.m.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Morton was incredulous. He was bone tired and he hadn't even hauled anyone or anything. In the past nineteen hours these guys had carried, climbed, lifted, chased, rappelled, and he couldn't even remember what else. How could you fight a fire now?
The fire was already a second alarm. Flames poured out through the windows on the West side, smoke billowing out of the rest. John and Roy jumped out and pulled on their air tanks. Johnny grabbed a rope. Morton followed behind them as they approached the Captain.
"Okay, boys, run a quick search of the first floor. Report back via HT. Let me know how it looks for the second. We don't have any reports of anyone in the building. Make it fast. This isn't going to keep."
Roy looked to Morton, "Pull out the equipment and extra O2. We'll bring anyone we find to you. Squad 16 is also here and will be over to help shortly." Roy nodded to the Captain and set off after John. Morton watched with awe as the two men entered the flaming building, disappearing in the heavy smoke without a hint of hesitation in their step.
Morton walked closer to the building, but was stopped by the searing heat. He was still over 150 feet away, but the heat was unbearable, causing him to retreat to the Squad. He wondered how much protection the turnout gear offered from the temperature. Probably not much, he thought, judging by the number of guys we treat for heat injuries. He shook his head nervously. The building looked shaky. He approached the Captain, listening to the discourse over the radio.
"LA, Engine 51, upgrade to a third alarm at our location"
"10-4 '51, Battalion chief on route."
"10-4, LA, '51 out."
Hank glanced at Dr. Morton, then picked up the mike to the HT. "Engine 51 to HT 51."
Johnny's muffled voice came back over the radio. "HT 51." He was yelling over the noise. Morton was shocked at how loud the fire was.
"How's it look, Gage? We're up to a 3." The Captain waited for a response.
"Nothing yet, Cap! It's tough going, but we're almost done. The ceiling doesn't look too bad and the stairway is clear. Heat's bad, Cap." John answered.
Morton noticed the Captain's brow wrinkle when Gage mentioned the heat. Morton couldn't help but ask, "Does that mean something, the heat, I mean?"
Captain Stanley spoke quickly, "Gage reads a fire like you read a book. He must think it's going to flash soon." Morton didn't know what that meant, but he could tell the Captain had big things on his mind.
"Johnny, you and Roy get out. Leave the second floor. We'll see if we can knock it down some before I send you up there."
He received no answer and Morton was starting to worry. There were two quick successive squelches over the radio, causing Hank to yell to his crew and bark orders over the radio. "All units, flashover imminent, flashover imminent, pull out, pull out!" He ran towards two firefighters manning hoses near the front, "Back up 50 feet and hit them as they come out!" Morton didn't know what was happening, but could only guess that Gage had let the Captain know something with those two taps of the microphone. He understood what Gage had conveyed to the Captain less than 5 seconds later. Two figures emerged through the doorway, now side by side in a full breaking run, heading straight for the spray of the hoses just as the building exploded, lifting them off their feet and sending them crashing to the ground nearly 15 feet away. They had looked like unwanted rag dolls, thrown angrily down during a child's tantrum. Morton fell back from the blast, immediately jumping to his feet in shock as he watched other firefighters converge on the men, beating down the flames charring their coats with a steady stream of water.
The Captain yelled over to the Doctor for assistance. Morton was frozen in place. The Captain started over to him and yelled again, breaking the man's inertia. Morton sprinted towards the downed men, noting one had moved and was now kneeling, attempting to steady himself with his hands on the ground. The other man was ominously still.
Morton pulled up short beside the still figure of John Gage. "Johnny? Can you hear me?" Morton knew his voice was shaking and took a deep breath to clear his anxiety.
Surprisingly, Gage answered him, his voice tight. "Just give me a minute, Doc. I'm just checking the inventory. I think my teeth are stuck in my socks." He lay quite still for another ten seconds until Roy came up beside him.
"Johnny, you okay?" Roy blinked hard, trying to focus on his partner.
"Yeah, Roy, just give me a minute huh?" He remained perfectly still. Just when Morton was starting to think he had broken his neck, Johnny suddenly began to cough heavily and rolled to his side pushing up off the ground slowly. "Man, this is gonna hurt tomorrow. Hell, it's gonna hurt tonight!" He coughed again, and while attempting to get to his feet, he unceremoniously leaned over and threw up. Dropping weakly to his knees, he struggled to steady his breathing, while Roy leaned in next to him. John held up his hand to indicate he was okay, breathing steadily through dry heaves. Chet brought over some water and a few sport bars.
"Here Johnny," Chet said softly, the concern clearly written on his weary face. Roy took the water from Chet and opened it, offering it to his partner. Morton looked on without interference. The medic looked terrible. Sweat had dried in streaks over his soot stained face and his hands were furiously trembling, making it difficult for him to hold the water. Heat exhaustion, Morton thought. Then he suddenly understood why Chet had offered him the sport bars. Food. Gage hadn't eaten one thing in the last twenty hours. He had even given Morton his apple. Not that it would have helped much. But he knew Gage usually ate like a horse and therefore, he must have been running on empty hours ago. Observing his squinting eyes, Morton figured he also had one heck of a headache.
Morton watched John's weary expression, blank with exhaustion. It was then that he realized he had seen that look many times before, not only worn by Gage, but also DeSoto and the other medics. Complete, utter exhaustion, physical and mental. Today's extreme pace, he realized suddenly, was not a fluke.
He knelt beside John. "Drink the water, Johnny, you need it. And take the food too. If you can't keep it down, I'll get you some glucose gel. You need something. You haven't eaten in over twenty hours and it's been quite a day." Morton spoke quietly with a certain understanding that must have rang true in the medic, for he slowly lifted the water bottle and sipped it without a word.
~~~~~~~~~~~
By five a.m., Engine 51 was back in quarters, cleaning up from the fire. The Squad pulled in a half-hour later. Hank had mercifully excused the two battered men from the clean up and sent them straight to the bunkroom, letting them know that the next shift would be in momentarily. Morton followed, slowly dropping into an empty bunk near the two prone medics. His mind wandered back to the fire and the image of the two men getting blown through the air. He opened his eyes and looked over at their sleeping forms. He couldn't believe they'd come out of it virtually unscathed, albeit a minor sprain and a myriad of bruises. Not to mention the sheer complete exhaustion that had overtaken Gage. It was all they could do to get him out of the Squad. He laughed silently, understanding why Gage might complain a little more than usual about his aches and pains. It had been quite a day. A day to remember, and hopefully to forget. Morton wasn't one to admit to defeat, but he thought that maybe he would ask to be excused from the rest of his weeklong sentence. He wasn't sure his nerves could take it, or his body. Imagine, he thought, if I was the one actually doing the work and the worrying. Not to mention being bowled over by the fire. Brackett was right. He hadn't understood. Maybe he didn't even now, but at least he could somewhat understand the mayhem, the danger, and the uncertainty surrounding each call, before, he admitted, the victims were calmly delivered to his door.
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