Disclaimer: I do not own Emergency, Johnny, Roy or any of the others. They belong to their original creators. I am not making any money on this story, I'm writing it simply for my own enjoyment. Hopefully, people reading it will enjoy it too.

The day was warm, perfect weather for fly fishing. Johnny felt a peace he hadn't known for a while settle over him. He heard the sound of the river gurgling past him. The sun glinted off the waves brought up by the rocks hidden just underneath the water's surface. Flies were buzzing along over the water as well, taking drinks and doing whatever else flies did. The day was perfect for fly fishing.

The cool water ran fairly quickly over the rocks. If it were deeper than his knees, Johnny would have had trouble staying upright in the force of the current. As it was, his hip waders were plastered against his legs where the water pressed against them and flowed outward on the lee side. He wasn't sure he really wanted to see if he could gain his feet again if he should happen the slip. Well, that wasn't going to happen so he moved his thoughts away from the possibilities.

After spending so much time rescuing people, the two men had decided to get away from everyone. Johnny had heard about this secluded spot, only reachable by all terrain vehicles. Johnny just happened to have a Jeep. Even then, they'd had to hike the last two miles to find just the right spot. They'd pitched their tent in a small clearing just by the river.

Down stream and around a treed bend Roy was also enjoying the day. The forest was still thick, despite some of the leaves starting to fall off of the deciduous trees. There were a number of evergreens as well. Roy loved Joanne and the kids but occasionally he just needed to get away for a few days. This was one of those times. He and Johnny had come up the mountains to do some camping and fishing. The fishing was less important than the camping. Well, to be honest that was even less important than just sitting around the fire at night, enjoying the peace and quiet.

They'd decided to separate because they'd fished together all morning without success. The fish were there, they just weren't biting. Frustrated, Johnny had suggested they split up and fish alone for most of the afternoon. It increased their chances of catching a fish but it also gave them a break from each other. They were the best of friends, especially on shift but their personalities were different enough that they grated on each other's nerves after a while.

Humming tunelessly, Johnny flicked his line over the river. There was a good three hours of sunlight left. He was planning on making the most of them. The younger paramedic really didn't care all that much if he caught anything but it would kill him if his partner got one and he didn't. Distantly, he wondered how Roy was doing.

A short distance away, Roy was trying to land a large fish on the other side of the river in a small eddy. He knew Johnny wasn't that far away but with the sound of the water, he couldn't have heard his partner if he'd screamed at the top of his considerable lungs. That was okay, though. Johnny was his best friend but the man could talk up a storm that made Roy's head hurt sometimes.



Roy had argued against coming camping. It was late in the fall. The trees had started turning colours. Some of them had lost their leaves. In the bright sunlight, Roy could smell the water and leaves that were beginning to rot. Normally it would have been too cold to camp in a tent such as they were doing. But an extra long Indian summer had kept the temperatures up. There was another reason why he'd not wanted to come but for the life of him, the senior paramedic hadn't been able to think of it.

As he cast and pulled the line back, Roy swore he could hear a loud bang behind him. The reason he hadn't wanted to come this time of year finally came to him. It was hunting season. Pain flashed through his right side. The force of impact knocked him into the water. The world was all ready turning black when Roy managed to roll onto his back. Then he was unconscious as he floated down stream.

"Roy?" Johnny called out suddenly. He thought he'd heard a sound. Well, a sound other than the river. Looking toward the bend where Roy was fishing, he waited to see if there was any response. There wasn't any.

Maybe Roy was okay. Being a Rescue Paramedic for the Los Angeles County Fire Department made Johnny's world full of people in trouble, in desperate need of help. Occasionally he wondered if he looked for trouble because he expected there to be something wrong. Shrugging his shoulders, knowing that he couldn't have heard his partner if he had called, Johnny set about trying to catch supper.

Time passed slowly. Johnny thought about his partner occasionally but after the fight they'd had this morning he knew the older man wanted some time alone. Could he help it if things popped in his head and he had to discuss them with Roy? He knew he'd been rattling on for a couple of hours but still. He hadn't intended to get on Roy's nerves. Johnny knew Roy had wanted peace and quiet. Oh, well, he promised himself he'd keep his thoughts to himself around the fire tonight.

--

Earlier that day, two men were making their way through the forest. Both of them held hunting rifles and were wearing camouflage pants, vests and jackets. A few beers before heading out to do their hunting and they were ready to go.

"Hey, Hank, I think I see something," Frank whispered to his brother. Yes, their parents had a sense of humour. Or at least, that was what the two brothers hoped. Either that or they were the only two names Dad could spell properly after the celebrations of their births. Dad never had a stomach for alcohol.

"I don't see anything," Hank replied just as quietly. It had been a long two hours. So far they hadn't seen anything larger than a squirrel. At this point Hank was ready to shoot them just to have something to show for their efforts.

"There, by the river," Frank said. "I think there's a deer drinking the water." Through the dense underbrush, he was sure he saw something moving around. They were so far away from the regular trails and camping spots, it had to be a deer. Didn't it?



"Nope, sorry, buddy. All I see is green," Hank told him. Beyond the layers of leaves and branches, Hank thought he might see something. What that something was, was anyone's guess. He wasn't about to start shooting indiscriminately. As much as he really wanted to bring home a steaming carcass to prove his manhood, he wasn't about to take the change of shooting just for the sake of doing it.

Three shots rang out, nearly deafening him. "What the hell, Frank?!" Hank demanded. He couldn't believe his brother had just done that.

"Okay, you were right. There's nothing there," Frank conceded as he shouldered his rifle. Without further ado, he headed further into the forest.

Hank wanted to go make sure his brother hadn't shot anyone but he wasn't familiar with this part of the woods and was afraid of getting lost. Frustrated, he turned and followed Frank's retreating back.

--

The sun was beginning to disappear behind the tree tops. Despite his best efforts, Johnny hadn't caught anything. He was grateful that he'd planned ahead and packed extra food, just in case. Besides, he really wasn't all that thrilled with the whole cleaning the fish thing. It kind of ruined his appetite.

Humming to himself, he slogged through the water and made his way toward camp. The world around him was full of the sounds of rushing water, birds and wind in the trees. He felt very much at ease in this world, almost as much at ease as when he pulled a victim out of a fire.

Their camp was nestled in a small clearing a few hundred feet away from the river. There were two tents, one for each of them. There were limits to togetherness after all. At the front of the two tents was their fire pit. The first thing Johnny noticed was that there was no fire going. Usually Roy always had the fire going by the time he came back.

"Roy?" he called out. Silence was the only response. Fear spiked through his system. "Roy?"

Quickly, Johnny searched the campsite. There was no evidence that his partner had returned after lunch. Putting down his rod, reel and tackle box, Johnny headed back toward the river. It felt like it took forever to reach the area where Roy was supposed to be fishing.

There was no one there. Cursing under his breath, Johnny moved toward the river, trying to see down it in case Roy had moved downriver. Still no one. Fear continued to burn through him. "Roy?" he called out again. Still no response.

Something told him to look down. On top of one of the larger rocks a sticky substance gleamed in the setting sun. His heart in his throat, Johnny stuck his finger in the substance and brought it up to look at it closer. Blood. Damn it. Carefully he scanned the area around the rock. There was no sign of anyone.



Terrified, Johnny climbed back out of the river and made his way along the river bank, heading down river.