Title: An Act Of Betrayal
Author: Polgana
Rating: PG for a few mild swearing
Archive: None, but feel free.
Disclaimer: I own, nor claim any rights to the characters or concept of Emergency! I can derive no monetary recompense from any use of the above.
Author's note: This is my answer to the 'Bad Habit' challenge. I know it's a bit late, but . . . Anyway, TMJ syndrome is real. I was banished from the table at the age of twelve because the constant popping drove my parents nuts. My jaw still slips a little to this day, and people are always asking me something the second I take a bite of food. I've learned to make them wait for an answer, though, and to talk through my teeth a lot. It's not as gross that way.
An Act Of Betrayal
By Polgana
"I can't believe this!" Fireman/Paramedic John Gage murmured. He stared down at the official locking letter in his hand with a stricken look on his bronzed, youthful features. Looking up, he let his dark brown eyes rove over his crewmates as he wondered which of them had been so cold as to stab him in the back this way.
"What is it, Johnny?" his partner, Fireman/Paramedic Roy DeSoto finally asked. "Did they decide to take the cost of that HT out of your pay?" he teased.
"No," Johnny growled. He angrily tossed the letter onto the kitchen table like a challenge. "I've been given an official letter of reprimand. For 'conduct unbecoming.' Do you wanna know why? For talking with food in my mouth!"
"You're kidding!" Fireman Marco Lopez exclaimed. He snatched up the paper and began reading it thoroughly. "You're not kidding! They can do that?"
"They can do whatever they damn well please," Engineer Mike Stoker murmured as he, too, read the letter.
"That's ridiculous," Captain Hank Stanley growled. "If they can do that to John, I know at least a dozen others that need to be suspended for bad manners." He picked took the letter from Mike and scanned its contents. "I can't believe this crap!" he exclaimed, unconsciously echoing Johnny's earlier statement. Taking the letter, he stood and headed for his office. "Don't you worry about a thing, John," he grumbled. "This will not go unchallenged."
"Thanks, Cap," the younger man sighed. He rocked back in his chair, clearly still agitated. The others sat back with a sigh, hoping this would be the end of it.
It was not.
Johnny let the front legs of his chair hit the floor with a thud as he sprang to his feet and began pacing between the kitchen and the dayroom.
"The complaint had to come from here," he muttered. "I do have manners, ya know. I take time to chew my food properly and speak clearly when eating in public. I've always set a good example for your kids, haven't I, Roy?" He waited for his partner's thoughtful nod. "It's only here that I do that. And that's only because we never know it we'll have time to finish a meal before we're toned out! You guys do it, too. Not as much as me, but you don't always have time to swallow before you speak, either! Damn! I wish whoever did this woulda just talked to me first! There's a reason I don't swallow as fast as you guys. Did you know that? A medical reason. You guys ever hear of TMJ syndrome? If I try to chew too fast, or swallow the wrong way, my jaw pops out of joint! Sometimes it slips right back in, but sometimes it sticks and that hurts like hell! I've even had to have it surgically reduced a coupla times! Even a lousy sandwich can put me in the ER!"
"I didn't know that," Roy mused, giving him partner a sympathetic look. "You never said anything about it."
"Did any of you bother to ask?" John snorted as he continued to pace. "Hell, you think it's bad now. It started happening when I hit my teens. My jaw would slip in and out of joint with every bite I took. It got so bad, I couldn't even eat in the same room as everyone else. Like damned castanets! The doctors all tell me I'll grow out of it someday, and it has gotten better. If it doesn't go away on its own, though, there's some new surgical techniques they think might help. But it's all elective and our insurance won't pay for it."
"Oh, give it a rest, Gage!" Fireman Chet Kelly snapped. "All that pacing is making me dizzy." He never even looked up from his paper.
"You were born dizzy," Johnny grumped, but he did sit down. He looked around at his fellow shift mates with an expression that seemed close to tears. "An official letter of reprimand? You had to take to the Chief? If it bothered any of you so bad, why didn't you talk to me? Hell, it wouldn't be the first time I was banned from the table! This . . . this is humiliating!"
At that, all eyes turned to stare at Chet. Of all in the room, he was the only one who had not acted surprised. The sudden silence eventually told the stocky Irishman that the jig was up. He lowered the paper and returned their stares.
"What?" he asked. "No one else was gonna say anything."
"Going to the Chief, Kelly?" Marco asked, his eyes pleading for understanding. "That's cold, even for the Phantom."
"Yeah," Mike agreed. "Why didn't you go to Cap, first? Or me! Hell, the first person you should've talked to was Gage, here!"
"Oh, like I could just go up to Gage and say, 'shut your mouth. You're grossing me out!'" he snorted, returning his gaze to the paper. "Right! Like he'd listen to me!"
"You could've at least tried!" Roy snapped.
"That was a cold, insensitive thing to do, Kelly," Cap agreed as he returned to the dayroom. "I just got off the phone with Chief McConnike and he's agreed that a letter of reprimand was a little harsh, especially under the circumstances. You see, I did talk to John about the situation, and the chief thinks that there may be a way for the department to kick in a little on the expenses, if he should happen to have the surgery. What do you say, John?"
Johnny just looked up at his captain, his eyes filled with pain. For the first time, the others noticed how tightly clenched his jaws were, and the tears streaming down his cheeks.
"John?" Roy asked, suddenly concerned at his partner's silence. "What's wrong?"
Johnny closed his eyes, mumbling something that Roy had to ask him to repeat twice before a look of understanding flashed across his slightly ruddy features.
"Cap, call in a still alarm," he said as he helped Johnny to his feet. "We need to go to Rampart right now."
"What's wrong?" Hank asked as he, too, reached to assist his stricken paramedic.
"His jaw is locked," Roy told him. "He can't move it at all."
***************
"That's the first time I've ever seen someone dislocate his jaw by gritting his teeth," Dr. Joe Early chuckled to his groggy patient. "How do you feel, Johnny?"
"Hur's," John Gage mumbled thickly. He was still in the grips of a powerful muscle relaxant. "S'okay, though."
"Well, I'm afraid you need to stay here and sleep it off," the white-haired physician told him. "And you need to stay on soft foods for a few days. That means soups, mostly. Nothing you have to open your mouth more than a couple of inches for."
"So he can have Cap's clam chowder or Marco's chili," Roy nodded, "but not Mike's fried chicken?"
"Or his spaghetti," Dr. Early nodded. "Nothing he has to chew."
"Chet's gonna love that," Johnny moaned.
"Chet's gonna keep his mouth shut," Roy promised, "or he'll be eating his meals through a straw!"
"If it's any consolation, Johnny, this escalates your TMJ syndrome to a health risk," Dr. Kelly Brackett spoke up. "I've talked to the administrator and your chief. We have you scheduled for surgery next week."
"Oh, joy," Johnny mumbled dispiritedly. "Thank you, Chester B."
The End