Little Boy Lost
by Charli 911
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Authors note: you will find reference here to a 'Kennedy probe'...that is the name of the long-handled, expandable listening device used during search and rescues in cave-ins and building collapses...at least, that's what it was called in the show (see the episode Botulism)..
Disclaimer: Emergency!" and its characters belong to © Mark VII Productions, Inc. All rights reserved. No infringement of any copyrights or trademarks is intended or should be inferred. This is a work of fiction, and any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. I do not own the men and women of Emergency! and only use them here for the purposes of entertainment. No money is made and I hope the creators, writers and actors appreciate that they're creation still resonates with fans after all these years.
This story, as with all of my Emergency! fanfic was originally archived at both Two Chickies and KMG365, both sites now defunct as far as I can tell.
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CHAPTER ONE
It was Sunday, and Roy DeSoto actually had the day off. He was in the garage, trying to refinish his son's furniture. Chris had outgrown his boyish bedroom set, and wanted something more in fitting with his 'grown up' stature. Roy thought about how fast his kids were growing up as he fought to sand the handles on the tall dresser. Time sure does fly; one second I'm changing diapers, and next thing you know, I'm sanding away the trains on his dresser, Roy thought to himself. He was so involved in his musings, he didn't hear Chris walk up behind him.
"Dad?"
Roy jumped. "Yes, son?" he said, turning around with a smile for his eldest child.
"Did I scare you, Dad?" Chris asked with a chuckle.
"Just startled me a bit, Chris. What can I do for you?"
"Oh, I just came out to see what you were doing," he said, as he picked up an empty paint bucket and flipped it over, plopping down to make himself comfortable. "Hey, Dad, can you tell me again how you saved that old lady from that burning building?"
"Son, I've told you before, I didn't rescue her alone. We all helped, all the guys at the station. If it weren't for Chet and Marco keeping the fire back and Johnny holding up the bed that fell on her, I would never have gotten her out."
Roy grinned at his son, happy that he thought so much of him that he figured his father could do it all alone.
"But, Dad, you were the hero. You do this kind of thing every day. Everybody saw you on TV carrying that lady out. My friends think you are so cool, Dad. Every one of them wants to hang out with me because of what you do. Billy's dad just delivers mail, and Rob's dad just drives a dumb old truck. But my dad is the cool one, he saves people's lives for a living." Chris swelled with pride, his chest puffed up.
"Chris, you have to understand that no matter what kind of job someone does, you should be proud of them. If you're a mailman, you bring people letters and packages from loved ones. If you drive a truck, so many people depend on you to deliver things they need to live. Every job is important. Saving lives and property is my job, and I like it, but I can't do it alone. I depend on the other firefighters to back me up. I depend on the people who make my equipment, so I have protection when I go into a fire. And who do you think delivers all that stuff? Somebody like Rob's dad, that's who. So, I couldn't do my job if it wasn't for him. And we aren't always able to save people, Chris. My job is dangerous and sometimes people get hurt, even firefighters."
"But I wouldn't let anything happen to my ol' partner, Chris," said a voice from the driveway. "He can always count on me to watch his back." Both father and son turned to see Johnny Gage standing in the garage opening.
"Hey, Uncle Johnny," Chris smiled and waved.
"Hi, Junior," Roy added in greeting. "Are you here to give me a hand?"
"I guess I have to do something to pay my keep, for all the meals you and Joanne have invited me to," Johnny laughed, as he walked over to check on Roy's progress. "Where do you want me to start?"
"I've got the rest of the drawers all sanded down. If you can put a primer coat on them, we should be able to get them all done before dinner is ready."
"I think I can handle that," he replied, heading over to the shelves for the tools and paint he would need.
"So, Uncle Johnny," Chris said as he settled back to watch the two men work, "do you like being Dad's partner? It must be great to watch him do all those rescues!"
Johnny raised an eyebrow at Roy. "I see we've got a little hero worship going on here," he said with a smirk. "I guess that's to be expected, though, for such a wonderful person as yourself."
"Hey, what can I say? I'm the greatest," Roy replied with a huge grin. "I am grateful for all your support though, while I'm fighting my way through all those fires and carrying all those people to safety."
Shaking his head at his friend's comments, Johnny popped the lid from the can and began stirring the paint. "To answer your question, Chris, yes I do like being your dad's partner. I don't think I'd want to work with anyone else. You know, your dad taught me everything I know about being a paramedic, and he was a good teacher. Heck, he still teaches me things every day."
"What's it like to watch him run into a burning building and save somebody's life?"
Johnny dipped the brush into the paint, and started even strokes on the dresser drawers as he spoke. "Chris, you just wouldn't believe it," Johnny began. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before. Your dad, is like, like...well, he's larger than life. When people see him coming through the smoke and flames, they breathe a sigh of relief, because they know he's gonna save them."
"Piling it on a little thick there, aren't ya partner?" asked Roy. "And I don't mean the paint."
"Now, Roy, the boy has a right to know just what a great man you are," Johnny said with false sincerity. "He's right, you are a hero. At least, you're my hero."
Roy rolled his eyes at his partner's sarcasm. I know I'll never hear the end of this one, he thought. I can just hear Johnny replaying this whole conversation to the guys at the station.
"Seriously, Chris, if I ever got into a situation like that, your dad is the one I'd want to see coming through the smoke and flames. I know I can count on him to do everything he could to get me out." Johnny stopped painting, and looked over at Roy. "And I'd like to think he knows he can count on me the same way."
"I do know that," Roy said simply.
Johnny nodded in acknowledgement. "That's why we make such a good team. Partners have to be able to depend on each other."
"Dad says that partners are important in firefighting, just like in police work," Chris remarked.
"That's right," Johnny agreed. "We keep each other out of trouble, watch each other's backs. I can't tell you how many times your dad has saved my life."
"About as many times as you've saved mine, Junior."
"You never told me about the times Johnny saved your life, Dad," Chris said, concern showing on his face.
"That's because I didn't want you to worry about me, Chris. You don't have to, because I have a lot of people keeping an eye on me, just like I keep an eye on them. Johnny is usually right there with me when we go into a fire. And Chet and Marco try to stay close with the hoses to keep the flames away. And of course, if it weren't for Mike Stoker, they wouldn't have any water in the hoses. Well, you know what all the guys do. I've explained it to you enough times."
"Yeah, Chris, and remember, I will always watch out for your dad. I promise, I won't ever let anything happen to him, if I can help it. And I'll always be there if he needs me."
Satisfied, Chris got up to see if he could help his dad with the sanding. He liked spending time with his father. His dad always answered his questions and never treated him like he was stupid. And it was even more fun when Uncle Johnny was there. They didn't talk down to him like he was a little kid, not like the fathers of some of his friends. And no matter what his dad said, he still thought he was the bravest dad in the world.
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It was an old gold mine, that's what the legends said. And the boys believed them. So they decided to explore, to see if there was still gold there. But the shoring was weak, and one of them fell through some rotting wood into a lower chamber. His arm hurt and it was dark where he was. He could hear his friends calling his name and he called back, telling them to stay back. He yelled at them to get help and heard them running away. Then all he heard was silence, with an occasional groan of wood moving, or pebbles falling from the ceiling.
The hole he was in was dark, and he was getting cold. The boy was scared. He knew his friends had run for help, but it seemed like they'd been gone forever. He thought he was going to die. He cried when he thought about never seeing his mom and dad again. And he wished Buster, his dog, was here with him. Buster always made him feel safe. But Buster was at home, nursing a sore leg. Mom's gonna kill me, he thought. And then, he just hoped to see his mother again.
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