For this story, the age requirement to join the L.A. County Fire Department will be set at twenty-one years of age. I thank o2bafirefighter for the inspiration for this story and the permission to further a plot. I do not know the Los Angeles area at all, I live in Canada so any geographical mistakes are mine. Other than a couple of one shots I'm new the Emergency fandom but find it's quite a mature fandom with a lot of good writers and I'm pleased to post a story among them. This story is AU and for the purpose of entertainment only and no copyright infringement is intended. Let the angst begin!
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John Gage picked up the items he and his partner Roy Desoto needed to restock the squad saying a quick goodbye to Dixie. As he loaded the items into the drug box Roy appeared with two cups of coffee.
"No doughnuts?" Gage asked.
"You don't need the sugar rush, Junior. We missed lunch and dinner but it'll be better for you to wait to eat something proper. We'll be at the station in no time."
Gage noticed the powdered sugar on the corner of his partner's chin.
"Um, Roy, you have some hypocrisy on your lip, let me just get that for you." Gage's index finger came away from Roy's chin with the powdery evidence.
"Busted. Okay, go get a doughnut, but you still have to eat your dinner."
Dixie stared after the young paramedic's retreating back and turned to Roy.
"If Kel or Joe or even I told him he had to eat all of his dinner we'd have been scoffed at. Of course no one has to tell Johnny to eat, he has two hollow legs."
"What can I say, kid looks up to me," Roy replied with a grin before getting serious. "You know, I swear if I didn't know better, Johnny's getting taller. He should be done his major growth spurts. At this rate, he's gonna be skinny as a rake. Joanne's noticed it too and she wants me to stash some snacks in the squad for him."
"Might not be a bad idea. You two don't eat regular meals and Johnny is looking a bit thin." Dixie was just about to wonder aloud about whether Johnny was due for a physical when the young man approached looking pleased with a powdered doughnut, which he proceeded to dunk in his coffee and relish with enthusiasm as they walked away.
"Decaff," Roy mouthed to Dixie pointing at Johnny with a wink when he turned around to wave.
Back at Station fifty-one Mike Stoker put two warmed plates of his famous spaghetti in front of the two tired paramedics. It was late evening and most of the company was headed to bed early after knocking down a major warehouse fire and helping with the subsequent clean up.
"Heard you guys got two more calls after the fire," Mike said, sitting down with a glass of milk. Taking a long look at Gage, who was shovelling spaghetti into his mouth like it was going to be taken away and fed to the firehouse dog, Mike got up and poured another glass of milk and placed it in front of the dark haired paramedic. Gage never noticed or didn't care that Mike offered a choice of water, coffee or milk to Roy; he just downed the milk with a contended sigh.
Gage only nodded and kept chewing while Roy paused between bites and told Mike about their earlier calls. Gage cleared his plate and placed it in the sink. He excused himself to try to catch a nap before the inevitable next call would come to drag him out of bed.
Roy's eyes followed his partner. Johnny kicked off his boots, stooping to pick them up in mid stride without breaking a step. Is it me or are Gage's pants getting shorter? Even without his shoes on, they're nearly at his ankle …
"Something on your mind?" Stoker asked.
"Um, no, Johnny must've shrunk his uniform again. I better get on him to order a few new ones, we have quite a few inspections coming up."
XXXXXX
Johnny's feet ached. He quietly got into bed, and reached down to rub his painful arch. I'm gonna need to order some new boots soon, these ones are too small. And with that thought, he went to sleep. For five minutes.
The Klaxons went off just as Roy finished rinsing his plate. Cap took down information on a car over the cliff off Ocean View Drive.
Johnny quickly donned his boots and helmet and hopped into the squad after taking the slip of paper from Cap. He shook his head in sympathy for the other guys as the klaxons went off again before they pulled out of the station, calling engine fifty-one into action as well.
"Squad fifty-one, engine fifty-one, be advised that Ocean View Drive is obstructed by rock slides a quarter of a mile from your destination. Air support has been dispatched. Proceed as far as you can and wait for further instructions," came the voice of Sam Lanier from dispatch.
"Ten four," Gage returned.
A short time later, Roy slowed to a crawl as small rocks and debris rained down on the squad and huge boulders obstructed the two-lane roadway. A steep cliff below and above them seemed to birth projectiles of dagger sharp bits of smashed trees, rocks and dried, red mud. Turning around, even if that was an option would be impossible.
"Guess we'll have to hoof it to the victims," said the ever-willing Gage.
"You heard HQ, we wait for further instructions," Roy said firmly, though his will was with Gage. There was no telling how this delay would affect the outcome for the victims.
"Cap, can't you authorize me to hike over to the accident scene and at least check on what needs to be done?"
"Negative, Gage. Wait for further instructions."
Cap knew how hard it was for his paramedics in particular to wait to be put into action. All the men showed nervous tension on their faces and what amazed Cap the most was that not one of them thought of their own safety right now. There was always time for the 'what if's' after a job was completed.
Johnny slammed his fist down onto the dash in front of him. Roy was just about to try to talk him down before he used up all his adrenaline on frustration when the Handy Talkie crackled to life.
"Squad fifty one be advised that a helicopter is en route to your location. Air rescue one has established that there are no means for ground rescue.
When the helicopter came into view, Gage and Desoto secured their equipment into the stokes that was lowered first and ran back to the shelter of the squad as it was hoisted up. Two safety harnesses dangled next, waiting for a moment for a mad dash between rockslides.
Cap watched as the helicopter flew off and rounded the cliff side out of sight. A slight rain started. He scanned the sky, hoping a deluge wouldn't come and cause mudslides, and further complicate things. Such was the ironic prayers of firefighters who desperately needed the rain to squelch the forest fires but also needed the safety of clear vision and stable roads to make an effective rescue.
This rescue was to be a grab and run, which basically meant that live victims were to be extracted and removed from the scene quickly without medical intervention beforehand. Anyone already dead would be left for later when it was safe and the roadway was cleared.
Gage positioned himself so that his body was nearly leaning over the edge of the open helicopter doors peering down to see the car that had been carried over the cliff in the rockslides. He was securely tied off but it always made Roy's stomach queasy when his partner did that.
"I see it," Gage said calmly.
The car was perched on a precipice, front wheels teetering over the cliff ledge. From this height it was difficult to see how many occupants there were. It was midway down the cliff with mudslide activity above and below.
Johnny spoke just as Roy knew he would, telling everyone that since he was the lightest it was probably best if he went to do the initial investigation. Roy wanted to argue with his partner but there was no denying the obvious. He hated each and every time Johnny volunteered to take a risky rescue.
"Be careful Junior. Keep to the back of the car."
Johnny just looked at Roy in that I got it, I got it sort of way and gave him a crooked smile that clearly masked the apprehension they both felt about the odds of finding anyone alive in that car.
The ground crunched and caved under Johnny's boots as the fine pebbles almost covered the tops before firm ground was underfoot. Johnny closed his eyes for a moment waiting for the rumbling from above to cease or more rocks to fall. It stopped. Thank God. The light rain hitting his helmet was only enough to annoy with a constant tink tink tink but did nothing yet to keep the dust from a month's worth of dry ground from pluming up to make him cough.
A woman was slumped against the steering wheel, lap belt the only thing holding her from rolling forward to the dash at the tilted angle Johnny could only now appreciate from this view. Leaning his body back but reaching his arm out he felt for a carotid pulse.
Johnny leaned back and grabbed his handy talkie.
"Roy, single occupant, female approximately twenty-seven years old. Vehicle is becoming dislodged, send stokes. Repeat, send stokes now."
"Johnny, I'll be right down with the stokes."
"Negative, Roy. The car's gonna go any minute. Just me landing here made it more unstable."
Roy knew Johnny was good at what he did. He had to trust the he was right and send the stokes and hope Johnny could manage without him. Bigger rocks began to tumble down the cliff from under the car. He watched helplessly as John's body stilled again, hands out as if walking a balance beam, eyes closed until the rumbling stopped. A fair sized boulder hit the passenger side of the car as John sped up his movements to get the woman out.
John gingerly cut the lap belt, holding his breath as the woman's unconscious form slipped forward. The car slid slightly and that's when he noticed that her foot was on the brake. He reached over and put the car into park for all the good it would do but right now, any help would be welcome.
There was nothing John could do but bravely step forward and pull the woman from the car. He opened the door, jaw set gingerly inch by agonizing inch. He hated having to grab her shoulders and haul her out into the stokes without spinal support but taking precautions like that would cost both their lives.
As the woman's head came in contact with the stokes she woke up whispering the words no fireman wants to hear.
"My baby. Did you get her?"
There wasn't even time to wipe the sweat from his brow that dripped from under his helmet. John finished strapping the woman in and gave the signal to begin reeling her in.
Roy's eyes followed, as he frowned. Why was his partner not readying himself for the trip up?
"I'll get her." John was glad that he could no longer see the woman's bloodied face as he made a promise he didn't know if he could keep.
The shifting of weight from the stokes caused the ground to rumble once again and the smell of gasoline from a leaking fuel line fanned in the wind that was picking up.
The handy talky crackled to life as the stokes disappeared into the helicopter but Johnny could have sworn he could hear his partner's frantic calls even through the air over the sound of chopper blades.
He took baby steps back toward the car. He hadn't seen a child when he first took a sweeping glance inside. Now that he knew what he was looking for among the twisted metal, a flap of woven basket peaked from under the passenger side dash on the floor. The bassinette was upside down, mostly buried between the pushed-in front seat and the floorboards. John pushed panic back down into his stomach. The baby wasn't visible, wasn't crying or making any noise at all.
Usually in gruelling situations like this when faced with something potentially heartbreaking, John would take a deep breath and do what one did with band aids, just rip it off quick and get it over with. But now, he dare hardly breathe, knowing any change in his stance could set off a major rockslide. The gas continued to pool around the front tires through a small indentation a boulder must have carved sometime earlier.
Now was the time for that big breath. John grabbed the lever for the front seat praying that he could budge it back to reclining mode and be able to grab the infant. One, two, three The seat popped back when he pushed it uphill with his other hand. In a second a baby's cries overrode the sound of his own heart in his ears and the tink tink tink of rain from his helmet.
John braced his feet as the car fell away from the baby clutched only by its tiny leg in Johns firm grasp. He almost released his precious bundle when a rock smacked into his shoulder sending bolts of pain up into his neck and head.
Panting and trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder, John stepped back from the edge while gently placing his hand under the baby's head and bringing her upright to lie against his chest. There was no time to check the baby over, he kept her protectively wrapped under his turnout coat as more debris dislodged from above them. It seemed to take the car an eternity to stop falling away and Gage was thankful that it landed without the spectacular Hollywood blow up.
Gage quickly improvised a way to get the baby safely up in the stokes with him. Just as she was swaddled and secured in his turnout coat he had just taken off, the helicopter jerked violently away from the ledge. The stokes ropes jerked from his hands slicing wide gashes across his palm. The stokes with the precious cargo swung crazily over the canyon as the helicopter was fought with for control.
John squinted against the blinding orange sunset that managed to peak from behind a low, still dripping cloud and nearly yelled in relief as the stokes was pulled into the helicopter. Once again, John was left to creep away from the ledge as best he could. He couldn't answer the handy talkie that was in his pocket. The momentary flash of dying sunlight faded and the tink tink tink turned to thud thud thud as the rain and wind picked up. Once again, a fireman's irony, the rain was needed, not now, not here, the wind wasn't ever welcome on a rescue or a forest fire.
"Gage, I'm sorry," came the voice of Sam Stevens, the helicopter pilot. "We got hit in the rotor by a rock and were lucky to get control back. I can't risk another pass but hold on tight and we'll send someone right out."
John's back was firmly against the flat wall of the cliff as far away from the ledge as he could get before he took a deep breath.
"What's the condition of the victims?"
Roy pressed the button on his handy talkie, not liking the weak sound to his partner's voice. Static was all he got in return to his reply that he was stabilizing the mother and the baby was crying which was a good sign.
"Johnny, if you can hear me, we'll be back soon, hang tight."
Roy slammed his useless handy talky down and watched helplessly for a second as the figure of his partner became smaller and smaller the further away they flew. The land continued to grumble and shift below and above his abandoned partner. He turned his attention to his patients wishing he had another set of hands.
The baby continued to cry but seemed miraculously unhurt after a cursory examination.
"Give her to me, please," begged the female victim who identified herself as Catherine
Roy placed the child in the stokes next to her so she could see her and took a deep breath. It was hard to tell the woman that she was in no position to hold her child as she begged to. All he could do was relay her vitals to Rampart and try to sooth her for now.
Though Catherine was strapped down and couldn't actually turn her head, the helicopter's interior was small and it was apparent that her rescuer from the cliff was not present. Her eyes grew dark with worry and her heart sped up.
"Oh God. He's still down there isn't he?"
Roy leaned over Catherine much like his partner would have done in this situation.
"Now, don't worry about my partner. He's always joking that he's two-thirds mountain goat. He'll be fine, let's just get you and your little one to Rampart and get you looked after, okay?"
Hang in there Junior.
"But you guys saved us, if anything happened I'd feel awful."
It touched Roy that someone was thinking of the sacrifices they made. As much as Gage was a natural born climber and a brave man, he had to be scared right about now.
This'll give Junior some fantastic stories to tell back at the station. And with that thought Roy carried on.
The pilot radioed about the hit to the rotor so a team of mechanics and an ambulance was going to meet them at a shopping centre parking lot. They couldn't risk landing a potentially faulty helicopter near a hospital.
Roy strapped in and secured his patients as best as he could. The flashing lights of fire trucks and ambulances below were almost dizzying from the now dark skies. It was a flawless landing, however a bit bumpier than normal.
Dwyer and The Animal from another station took over for Roy after they got the full medical report on the victims.
Mike Stoker had somehow managed to get the engine back down the road before it became completely impassable further down from their previous location and met the chopper at the shopping centre. Cap was the first to reach Roy. The men heard about Gage being left behind but somehow all of their eyes searched the interior of the helicopter as if needing confirmation for themselves.
When the victims were extricated from the chopper, Roy hopped back in, not waiting for official orders. He was going after his partner. Now.
The mechanics were all over the chopper and when the pilot's shoulders slumped, Roy knew something was wrong. The pilot stuck his head into the cab of the helicopter.
"It's a no go. We have to wait for another chopper to go after Gage. The head mechanic won't clear this bird for takeoff."
Roy's mouth opened to protest but the pilot put his hand up. "Look, I get it. And we're going after him but we have to wait. If we get in this thing, it would be a suicide mission."
Cap's face appeared next.
"Desoto, come on, we'll get a cup of coffee while we wait on another chopper, okay?"
Roy slowly stepped from the helicopter, an image of Gage in his head growing smaller and smaller. Was that blood on Johnny's shoulder or just mud?
Thinking of the past and Gage's propensity for getting hurt, Roy spoke up, feeling guilty and useless.
"I think Gage was injured. He was still on his feet when we had to take off abandon him but I think he was struck by debris. I never got a chance to talk to him about it before I lost contact.
XXXX
John looked up the hill and down the hill. He wasn't one to wait for rescue like some damsel, besides, night had fallen and the temperature dropped dramatically. It had been an hour and no signs of rescue were in sight. He was wet and cold.
John cleared blood from the face of his watch to note that another half hour passed since he last checked. He tied his blue shirt around his shoulder as best he could one-handed but it soaked through and hung like a wet blanket making him shiver even more.
Shivering is good, the paramedic noted to himself. He wished he had some gear with him but as this was to be a grab and run there hadn't been time for that. Though he missed the warmth and security of his turnout coat, he was grateful to know the baby wrapped within its safety made it to the helicopter and hopefully survived. His hands stung and bled with rope burn from when the stokes suddenly pulled from them and he knew he'd be in trouble for taking off his gloves but he'd had to check for a pulse and with gloves there was no dexterity or feeling for that delicate diagnosis and there was no time to put them back on when situations on the cliff became more dire.
"S … sssss sorry, Cap, more paper work a … again," Gage said aloud as blood trickled down his neck to pool a bit at his collar bones. Being a paramedic was a bit of a curse at the moment because he knew that he was going to go into shock soon if he wasn't taken from this cliff. He continued to talk to himself.
"Th …. Think I'll forego the c … camping this vacation. Home is starting to sound pretty good about now."
Damn … no shivering John tried hard not to panic. It wasn't his thing. He was alright. He was always alright. Even when he wasn't alright.
Thinking straight was becoming a problem but he forced himself to focus, still talking aloud when he had the strength. His breaths came in tiny puffs of white as he turned his head. The steam from his breath surrounded a tiny folded flower that clung desperately to the surface of the rock in about an inch of mud. With each warm exhale the flower seemed fooled into believing that it was safe to open up. It was mesmerizing watching its tiny petals open and close.
And suddenly Chet's voice invaded his quiet moment. Look, Gage, stop giving mouth to mouth to that flower and quit wasting time, will ya?
Gage swung around. "Me fooling around, you're supposed to be thinking of a way to get me out of here, Kelly!"
There was no one there. John wiped a hand over his face and was shocked when it came away sweaty and clammy. The sudden spin sent him sprawling to the pebble filled rock shelf.
"Any time would be good guys. Now would be better."
But John knew the orders from headquarters forbade anyone from coming for him from Big Red out on the roadway because of the still falling rocks.
He waited for the world to stop spinning before pushing himself up with one arm. He would give them another twenty minutes. Already he was trying to piece a plan of action together.
Okay, the road was blocked until about a half mile North. It's pretty much a straight climb to the top. It's not like I haven't done that before … Just not without ground support and partners and …
John forgot he'd already tried his handy talkie three times; forgot that it was smashed, batteries nowhere to be seen. He felt foolish trying to call in. "Rampart, this is HT fifty-one, can I have an ETA on the chopper back to my location?" Roy, it's me Johnny, please come get me …
XXXX
As many times as Roy held the handy talkie to his mouth he knew Johnny would have answered if he could have.
"What's taking that replacement chopper so long?" Roy demanded.
"Bushfires to the North have them tied up mostly," explained the pilot as he watched the tension mount among the men of station fifty-one. "Look, I have a buddy who works for Universal Studios. They have a real working helicopter for that new detective show. If I explain the situation he might be willing to fly up. Guy's good too, he's a veteran.
Cap nodded his approval without waiting for Roy to ask and called in the information to headquarters once arrangements were made.
XXXX
The searchlight from the helicopter annoyed Roy as it dipped and rose in places, missing entire sections of jutting rock ledge in the vicinity of where they'd left his partner. On TV this sort of search looked easier and smoother, Gage should appear at any moment having written HELP ME with some miraculously identical white polished stones and in minutes he should be clinging to a rope being hauled up to safety as the credits rolled. Roy was sure he remembered the exact ledge Gage was stranded on but now they all looked the same, small, unstable and cold in the night air.
Twenty minutes stretched into thirty before Pilot Sam who was now sitting beside his pilot friend from Universal finally admitted that this mission was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
"Then get a magnet and find him," growled Roy, apologizing a second later. It wasn't Sam's fault.
The sheets of rain even hid the car that had plummeted to the bottom of the cliff, which could have at least given them a direction to look for Johnny.
XXXX
The searchlights had been scanning the rock face for a long time, or at lease Gage figured since he lost consciousness for short periods. The affects of hypothermia were beginning to have their way with him. His dexterity even in his good arm was diminishing, his breathing was shallow and he knew that being satisfied with the small amount of oxygen he was getting was a bad sign. Complacency was taking over. He was tired. Sleep beckoned in a friendly, warm way.
"NO!" I can't do this. I can't sit here.
Gage forced himself to his feet using the flat cold surface of the rock as support. The rock was scarcely colder than his skin. He waved his arm as best he could any time the light from the chopper got near him but each time the beam missed him. He slumped down.
When the chopper began to whirl its way off into the distance it took all the hope of rescue from John.
The rain got harder and seemed to fall sideways straight into his eyes. It mixed with the dust on his body and itched and caked. The mud was reddish, mixing with his blood that flowed down the crook of his elbow from his shoulder.
Thunder opened eyes that Johnny hadn't realized he'd closed, lightning assaulting his vision. Rocks tumbled adding to the roar of the fury of the storm. Without thinking, Gage looked up. Sweat and rain slid his helmet back and off his head. He didn't remember undoing the chinstrap earlier. The helmet went over the cliff. A rock cracked against his forehead, glancing off his temple before he could get his arms up. He cried out as he forced his good arm up, having no choice but to present the bad arm to the same torment of falling rocks to try to protect himself from further harm. He tasted blood.
When the rockslide quieted Gage was pushed from the rock face closer to the edge. Pebbles bit his knees and palms as he crawled back to the rock face. It was times like these that made the young paramedic question what he'd gotten himself into, times when his cocky façade faded and his past crept up to cause self doubt. He'd believed that someone would come for him so he hadn't set out for the shelter of an overhang that would have been difficult to get to two hours ago but was impossible now.
See? I told you. You're too weak. You'll never do anything right. You'll always be nothing. His stepfather's words stung him to his core at the same moment the skies opened up into a full deluge once again. He remembered the day he ran away from home, his stepfather throwing a loaf of bread and a glass jar of peanut butter at his head as he fled through the door with nothing but the clothes on his back. The jar cracked against his temple but loath though he was at taking the bread, he grabbed it up and ran. He was nearly fifteen, alone after his mother died two years previous and his step father took every opportunity to remind him that the property and house did not belong to him just because it had been in his real father's side of the family for generations before he died when John was nine.
"M'not nuthin'," John argued with thin air, pawing his hands through the air as though he could dispel the words that sliced his heart. "I … I … um … um …"
"Ahhh, ah, ah, duh," teased the voice of his stepfather. "You're what? What are you?"
John forced himself to breathe through his nose and let it out through his mouth slowly. His eyes closed and he counted to ten. Roy had caught him doing this many times but when he asked about it John always told him he was meditating or something equally as lame that he knew Roy didn't believe. It didn't work this time. There was no kind blue eyes staring into his calling him Junior and reminding him to come for dinner to dispel the cold words that haunted him still to this day, no nice apartment that he leased with his first real pay check from the Fire Department Of L.A. County, no Strayboy, his horse that he boarded for now at a ranch he went to on his days off. Nothing to prove he'd made it.
His fingers found the huge welt in the side of his head. He tried to quell the smell of peanut butter that nauseated him. No, wait, that was years ago. I got hit by a rock, it's not the jar of peanut butter this time it's …
He tried a few more times to quiet his ragged breathing knowing it would only make things worse. Complacency was replaced by anger as John dug his fingers into any small holes in the surface of the rock he could find, his toes following as his body shook as he climbed. If only Roy had been searching at that moment the ensuing small avalanche below him from his helmet would surely have been noticed.
But you didn't even think to throw a pebble off that cliff to alert them to your location … Must be just as much of a disappointment there as you were here.
"No, Sir, I just …" Why didn't I do something? "I … I …"
I … I ….I The voice mocked You'd best be getting used to mucking out barns for a living son, people who stutter don't get real jobs and I'm not paying for your sorry arse to stay around here sponging off me once you turn eighteen.
A piece of rock dissolved into gravel and mixed with the rain picking up mud under his feet. He contemplated how long it would take to fall. How many nanoseconds of pain would hit his nervous system before he was pulverized by the gravity of the fall and left as a blood splatter for some poor schmuck to find. He closed his eyes and held on even as fist sized rocks smacked off his collar bones as he dared to look up and lean out a bit to see how far it was to the top. Blood trickled down his chest and damned if he wasn't surprised it wasn't ice cold. He fought waves of nausea, his stomach roiling and threatening to choke him. His right eye twitched and it was all he could do not to take one of his hands from their precarious hold and rub it to make it stop. The world swayed crazily and he leaned his forehead against the cool rock.
His mother's face swam before his vision as he could almost feel a cold cloth placed on his forehead. If only it was real, the reason for the cold cloth notwithstanding, just to have seen her one last time was something he'd give anything for at this moment. She'd done this times out of count when John's stepfather was drunk and found fault with something John did or said, which was pretty much everything in his eyes including having been born. John's mother intended to leave the man who was supposed to step up to bat and be a father to her son like he promised but she was killed in a supposedly single vehicle accident after she made that plan clear.
"You … you … killed her … but you don't … don't get me." John climbed further, body screaming in protest at the abuse, fingers slipping, rock digging away cuticles to bleed and mix with the small stream rushing down the cliff.
You don't get me.
John climbed for all he was worth, which wasn't much as his stepfather's taunts reminded his concussed brain. His hands found the rock ledge just as lightning lit the sky and blinded him. For a second, his only thought was to let go. How could he face the guys back at the firehouse? Cap would have reams of paperwork because of John's injuries; he'd have to find a replacement. Roy would get stuck with Brice and Chet would have major ammunition to taunt him. He heaved his body over the top of the cliff where he lay panting in the darkness. Alone.
John fought the tremors that wracked his body in pain and searched his mind for the kind blue eyes that always found a way to make him feel better without commenting on the times when he fell back into stuttering until he could get it in check. Blood trickled down his face into his mouth as he gasped for breath from the exertion but he couldn't find the eyes; couldn't find the face; couldn't find anything. His future was swallowed.
Gage tried to get to his knees but another flash of lightning blinded him and dropped him back down to the ground in a puddle. He grasped his head, rolling to his side only in time to throw up. He rolled to his back, rainwater filling his mouth and nose. He was claimed by darkness with a vague regret that the puddle beneath him wasn't deep enough to drown in.