Dog Bones
by MM
disclaimer: The characters (and they certainly are!) do not belong to me nor have I yet to inflict an oc on the unsuspecting readers. I'll help 'em up, dust them off, give 'em a smooch and send them back when I'm done.
rating: eh, T? No harm no foul. Just a large dog and a lousy title.
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The entire station rolled out. A single car accident was reported. As he braced himself on the dash Johnny reflected more people should have additional driving training like his partner, Roy, had. At least he had that small comfort to hold on to as the squad seemingly careened around yet another corner.
Fortunately, when they entered the side streets with their neat rows of houses and mowed lawns Roy did slow down somewhat. There was always the off chance an excited child would run into the street to see them 'up close'. One more turn and they could see the car, it's front end nearly split in half wrapped around a concrete light standard.
"I'll get the box!" Roy called out. "Go check on the driver." Johnny ran ahead, pushing past a few onlookers who were by the car. When he made it to the door he had to wrestle to open it.
And wished he hadn't. The poor woman didn't have a chance, her bloody, torn torso attested to that. He still knelt down and checked gingerly for vitals but besides getting blood all over his hands he found no evidence of life. A long horrific scream next to him snapped him back into reality.
"Ma'am? Ma'am?" her heard his partner trying to coax the hysterical woman away from the crash.
"My baby! Please save my daughter!" she wailed.
"Is there anyone else in the car?" he asked as he battled for her attention.
"No, no, she was just coming home from school," the woman fought him. Johnny took off his turnout coat and covered the driver from view. No mother should see her child mutilated and dead. Chet Kelly came up and helped Roy pull the woman away as Johnny managed to stand up, blood staining his shirt. He wiped a hand across his sweaty forehead and managed to streak his face. As he stepped away from the tangled mess he noticed he had another onlooker.
This one didn't look distraught, but angry. A large mixed breed shepard, hackles up and snarling, glared at him. He noted that the dog was very thin and sniffing the air, probably scenting the blood. He tried edging away, but the car blocked his back.
"CAP!" he called out for help. Several things happened, the fire captain turned to see his younger paramedic suddenly be knocked down by a large dog. Next he heard the screams of the same man as the dog tore into him.
"Oh, god! That dog has been hanging around the last couple days but the shelter people couldn't catch it!" a neighbor explained as Hank and Mike Stoker finally reacted. They ran to their friend and tried to pull the dog off him.
Finally Marco came over, coat off, and threw it over the dog wrestling it away from Johnny. Mike helped and soon the animal was contained, a belt securing it inside the coat. Cap approached his terrified friend.
"John? Johnny? It's going to be Ok," he soothed, "let me see what's happened. Come on pally, Marco and Mike got the dog, you're going to be just fine." He kept up the soft chatter as he knelt down by the shaking paramedic. Now he was covered in blood, his own, and was going into shock. He did latch onto Hank, crying in fear.
Roy managed to hand off the hysterical mother to several neighbors and make it over to his partner. There was so much blood he couldn't see the wounds.
"Marco, I need the drug box and biophone," he ordered as calmly as he could. When it became apparent Johnny was not going to let go of Hank he directed the captain to sit behind the distraught man and lean him back. He immediately complied, sheltering the injured man in his arms.
Now Roy could take off the ripped shirt. Marco arrived and immediately pulled out a bag of normal saline that was requested. He rinsed off as much of Johnny's upper torso and arms as he could.
"Get Rampart on the line," he directed as he began to wrapped a pressure pad around a torn forearm, securing it to stop the bleeding. He then checked out and applied a second pad to his friend's shoulder where teeth had missed the juggler, but ripped flesh from bone. Through it all Hank kept up a whispered conversation trying to sooth his friend.
They all noted that Johnny was shaking, going into shock. He needed an IV and some pain med asap.
"Rampart, this is squad 51," Marco called in. After a few seconds the deep voice of Joe Early came over the line.
"Go ahead, 51," he replied. Marco handed the phone over to Roy.
"Rampart, we have a male, 27, who's been attacked by a dog. He has a torn forearm and severe gash on his upper left shoulder. Pressure bandages have been applied. Stand by for vitals." Roy quickly pumped up the cuff and wrote down vitals.
"Pulse is 120 and thready, breathing is 36, shallow. BP is 100/70. Patient is in shock and in pain. Request IV, Rampart," Roy had to look down, away from his partner, to keep his control. His own heart was thumping loudly and he wondered what his pulse was.
"51, start an IV with Ringers. Give 5cc's ms im," Joe directed.
"Ringers, 5cc ms im," Roy repeated suscinctly.
"51, do you have the dog that attacked your patient?" Early asked. "We need to check for rabies." That hadn't crossed anyones mind and all three looked towards the coat bundle.
"Marco, get animal control out here," Cap softly ordered as he pulled Johnny a little closer against him hoping his warmth would help the shivering man, "And request another engine to take care of this."
"On it, Cap," and the wiry man jumped up to comply. It wasn't often they left a scene, but one of their own needed his captain.
"That is affirmative, Rampart," Roy answered. "Animal control will take care of it."
"Ok, 51, transport immediately," the doctor directed.
Somehow they managed to get Johnny on the gurney although he would not release his hold on Hank. The captain climbed into the ambulance with Roy hoping to help keep the younger man comforted. With Marco driving the squad they left Mike and Chet to wait for animal control and Engine 36.
Kel Bracket and Dixie stood at the nurse's station waiting with Joe for the dog bite victim. An exam room was set up to clean and stitch whatever presented. According to the scanner 51 had been on a car accident run and they wondered about any victims.
They didn't have to wait long as Roy came whipping around the corner followed by... Captain Stanley? This momentarily confused the assembled until they got a look at the gurney. A bloody and whimpering Gage lay under the blanket, his hand grasping Hank's in a death grip.
"Room 4," Dixie managed to get out and then lead the team into the assigned room. Blanket was whisked off, the patient transferred onto the exam table and IV hung on the pole. Cap moved to the head of the table and put his hand on Johnny's good shoulder, continuing his soothing litany.
As Joe began cutting off pressure pads, Dixie and Roy stripped shoes, socks and pants off the patient. Bracket reassessed vitals.
"Pulse is now 90, but his pressure is down, too, 95/60," he reported. "Let's get blood panels done, Dixie." The nurse moved to comply as Roy carefully draped a sheet over his partner's lower half. He then assisted Early by throwing the pads aside. Bracket exposed the wound on the clavicle.
"We need to do some serious cleaning, Kel," Joe commented. "I'll start on the lidocane here, then the shoulder."
"I want to give Johnny something to relax him, he's still very agitated," Bracket added. The patient eyes were locked on Hank, his lifeline. He flinched as the needle began delivering the numbing medication around the first bite.
"Johnny?" Bracket put a hand on the paramedic's face and gained his attention. "I'm going to give you something to relax and maybe sleep. Then we'll get you cleaned up, ok?" The paramedic nodded slightly as the needle was threading into the IV port.
Everyone watched as that tense body slowly relaxed into drowsing. They kept their voices low and comforting as they began to clean the blood and dirt away. Early and Bracket found two smaller bites and these, too were thoroughly cleaned.
As the stitching began the door opened letting in three additional firemen.
"Animal control had to put the dog down at the scene," Mike reported. "They got the samples for the lab." Bracket looked up.
"Good! Can you take them down and get them on it, stat?" he asked. Chet agreed and disappeared back out the door. The other two men leaned against the wall watching and waiting.
It was a long vigil as Early worked on fine needle work to pull muscle and skin back together. Bracket made sure Johnny was as comfortable as possible while Cap just stroked his hair and forehead. At some point Chet returned and joined the silent watchers.
Joe moved from arm to shoulder and clucked over the tear. This was worse and would need watching for sceptsis. He cleaned and packed the wound before beginning his stitching. When Johnny started to surface he was given more medication and slipped back into the light sleep the doctors desired.
"I think that's it," Early announced finally. Bracket carefully checked over his work and agreed. "Let's get him into a room and wait for those lab results."
"I'm going to hang a bag of antibiotics," Kel decided. "Even though we cleaned everything thoroughly, we need to be cautious."
An hour latter found a sleepy Gage tucked in bed, clean and gowned. His crew mates had returned to active duty. His eyes wandered about the room as he tried to make sense of his day thus far.
He didn't dwell on the attack, that wasn't a good idea. He remembered Cap being there for him the entire time. And Roy was there. The room had seemed pretty full as he mentally looked around and realized his crewmates had been there as well as Bracket, Early and Dixie. He'd been told he'd be there at least two days until the tests came back. Not that he cared; he gave into sleep.
The following day everyone was pleased to find out the dog did not have rabies or distemper. Early decided to continue the IV with antibiotics and Johnny found himself consigned to watching soap operas for the day. The guys visited him, Chet bringing a box of dog bisquits as a joke. As long as the wounds looked ok and the last blood panel came back clean Johnny would be allowed to go home with the Desotos.
Gage only missed one 48 hour shift; the doctor grudgingly cleared him on the proviso he'd tell Roy or call the hospital if he started to have a fever or the bites started hurting. Johnny had promised, going so far as to tell Dixie he'd report in to her a few times during the shift.
The station toned out on a vehicle fire. Happily, the drivers were not hurt and had walked away from the wreck before the flames had started. Hoses were used to tackle the blaze.
Johnny noted that his shoulder was tender. He shifted the weight to his other shoulder and made a mental note to let Dixie know about it. He poked at the stitches when he got back into the squad. Still hurt and it seemed to be a little warm.
True to his word he called Dixie. She decided when they came into the ER one of the doctors would check it. There didn't seem to be a reason to come in directly, the weight of the hose just irritated the wound.
As the morning progressed, and the squad toned out for a couple runs that did not result in going to the hospital, Johnny's arm felt worse. He also kind of felt like he had a fever starting. This time he told Roy who gave a cursory glance at his partner's shoulder and handed him some aspirin.
Which masked the rising fever. After an early afternoon discussion Johnny felt distinctly worse. He knocked on Cap's door.
"Hey John, what can I do for you?" he asked solicitously. The younger man looked distinctly uncomfortable.
"I, uh, promised Dr. Early I'd tell someone if I wasn't feeling good," he began. "Roy looked me over this morning, but I think I'm getting a fever and..." of course the station tones began playing. They stretched into a bigger problem.
"Station 51, engine 36, engine 48, structure fire, 342 Centrailia. Cross street, Main. Time out, 15:48.
"Station 51 kmg 365," Hank responded. "John, we'll get you over to Rampart after the run. You probably just strained it this morning pulling hose." With a nod the paramedic turned feeling his captain pat him on the back.
He was warm, Hank realized. But the engine was calling and they rolled out.
Arriving at the fully involved house the paramedics immediately put on their turnouts and pulled on scbas. John winced as the strap bit into his shoulder, but said nothing as everyone had dismissed his complaints. If three people felt he was ok, then he must be ok and should stop whining.
But he wasn't ok, and he knew it as soon as he picked up a young man who'd collapsed from smoke inhalation. Stumbling he wondered if he'd make it down and out the door. Not that he had any choice in the matter. He lumbered downstairs and leaned momentarily against the door jamb before getting across the lawn to Roy and the equipment. He managed to lay his patient down and check vitals.
The world did a serious tilt, he knew he was going to pass out.
"Roy?" he began, "I need some help." he managed to say then literally fell back on his tank before rolling limply on his side.
"Damn! CAP!" Roy had just put the air mask over the young man's face when his partner collapsed. Hank legged it over and looked down at the paramedic. He dropped to his knees and began unhooking the scba and coat.
"He's drenched!" he reported as he tried to straighten the limp body.
"Look, this guy just inhaled a little too much smoke," Roy said. "Get someone to run the oxygen and I'll check Johnny out." Chet was waved over releasing Cap to go back to directing the fire crews. The older paramedic began assessing his friend. Opening his shirt he discovered an angry looking wound on his shoulder that was oozing serum.
"That strap really must have hurt," Chet commented when he took a look.
"Yeah," Roy grunted as he wrote down vitals. Next the biophone was set up and Rampart contacted. At that moment the rescue victim began coughing and woke up. Chet settled him down and kept the oxygen flowing. A quick set of questions ascertained there were no injuries save the smoke.
"Rampart, this is squad 51," Roy began.
"51, this is Rampart," Dixie confirmed.
"Rampart, we have a male, 27. He is diaphoretic, his pulse is 120 and bounding, breathing is rapid and shallow. Blood pressure 140/95," Roy swallowed. "Be advised the patient is John Gage and it appears his shoulder wound is irritated."
"51," now Bracket had taken over. "Does he have a fever?"
"That's affirmative, Rampart, patient is hot to the touch," he confirmed. "His forearm looks fine, but the shoulder bite is oozing a yellowish serum." Bracket glanced over at the nurse.
"I thought Joe told him to let someone know if he felt bad," the doctor growled. He was surprised when Dixie blushed and looked down.
"He called me this morning," she admitted. "I just figured he'd irritated it when he was pulling hose." His eyes flicked over her as he returned to the phone.
"51, start an IV with normal saline. Get him in here stat!" he listened to the confirmation and hung up the phone. "Better get Joe."
"Sure, Kel," she replied glumly.
It was an embarrassed blonde-haired paramedic who rolled his partner in. They were set up in one and Dixie wasted no time removing clothing and covering him up with a sheet.
"102.7" Roy told the gathered medical crew. Early leaned over and sniffed the wound. He stepped back so Bracket could repeat the move.
"We're going to have to open and clean," Joe said, Bracket agreeing. They set about gathering supplies and draping the area.
"He told me he wasn't feeling very good earlier," Roy admitted. "I just gave him some aspirin." Bracket glanced up.
"He called Dix, too," the doctor returned to the syringe of lidocane he was injecting into his patient's shoulder. The door opened and admitted a very worried fire captain.
"How is he?" Cap asked the assembled.
"Infected," Bracket ground out. "Need to clean out his wound."
"He, he told me he wasn't feeling well when that last run toned in," Hank admitted. "He seemed a little warm, but..." he dropped off.
"You mean to tell me Johnny told three different people he wasn't feeling well?" Early asked incredulously. "The man who routinely keeps his mouth shut until he has to be dragged in on a stretcher?" All three involved looked down.
"Not their fault," a raspy voice intoned. "I was whining." Everyone looked down at feverish brown eyes. "Shoulda just stayed home."
"Then we wouldn't have caught this as early, Johnny," Joe said quietly. As usual guilt painted the ill man's face.
"How are you feeling?" Bracket gained his attention next.
"Hot, achy, really thirsty," he licked dry lips, "and I have to, uh, go to the bathroom. I've been drinking a lot of water like Dr. Early told me."
"We can take care of that," Kel said kindly. "Dix? Foley." He received a weak glare from his patient but it diminished when some ice chips were put in his mouth. Both doctors worked in concert to get him prepped. A sigh of relief let them know there was one less concern.
It took nearly an hour to expose the infection and clean it out. Once more it was packed and stitched, more antibiotics were hung and ice chips were doled out.
"It's not too bad, Johnny," Early said as he covered the wound with a sterile pad. "We have it all cleaned out and the antibiotic will take care of any lingering infection. We'll keep you here a couple of days to let it work and monitor your blood values."
"Plus I'll have someone to poke," Bracket teased. "Some patients are no fun at all!"
"We're going to leave the foley in for now," Joe chipped in. "I want to really hydrate your body."
"Complete bed rest," Kel tossed in. "Lots of soap operas."
"I feel like I'm at a tennis match," Johnny complained. "And both players are throwing lobs at me!" Early chuckled and ran his hand over the paramedic's upper arm He did not like the heat that was rolling off him nor the defeated countenance.
"We'll get you a room, just rest," the doctor told him. Without saying a word Dixie scooted out followed by Hank and Roy. Kel caught Joe's eye with a silent question. The elder man could only shrug. The exodus had been noted by the ill man and he withdrew further, covering his eyes with his arm.
"I'll be back to check on you, Johnny," Bracket said quietly. Early elected to stay in the room a few minutes longer.
"Dix?" Kel called out stopping the nurse. She turned slightly.
"Yes, Dr. Bracket?" she said shortly.
"It's not like you to leave one of your hose jockeys alone," he opted for the more general locution.
"It's busy in here," she said as she turned away. "I have things to do."
"Dix..." he tried again but the woman ignored him and went into another exam room. Looking around he realized that the firemen had also left. He knew they felt guilty for not listening to the ill man sooner, but their guilty avoidance hurt Johnny more than the infection.
That evening before going home both doctors went up to check on their patient. Once more they found him lying still in a silent room staring at the far wall. An empty glass sat on the table with a pitcher next to it. Joe picked the pitcher up and found it, too, was empty.
"Hey Johnny, have you been drinking enough water?" he asked. Slowly the sad brown eyes focused.
"I called twice," he said very softly. "Guess they're too busy." With a sigh Early picked up the container and headed for the nurse's station.
"Susie? Why hasn't someone brought John more water?" he asked. The nurse looked up surprised.
"I don't know, he called for some," she took the pitcher. "I guess we're all used to one of his friends getting it for him."
"No one has visited him that I know of," Carl commented. "Not even Dixie."
"That is strange," Susie returned with a full, icy, pitcher. Joe agreed and took the pitcher.
"Just be sure he gets whatever he wants, ok?" the doctor asked. The nurses agreed easily. Returning to the room he found Kel unsuccessfully trying to draw the paramedic into conversation. A cup of cold water was proferred and accepted with a quiet thank you. After a long drink he resumed his sleeping position and covered his eyes.
Leaving the room the two men conferred in the hall.
"He looks whipped," Early noted.
"He looks like he's done something very wrong and his friends are angry at him," Bracket elaborated. "I think I'll stop by Station 51 and talk with a couple of the men."
"I'll swing by and talk to Dixie," Joe decided.
Both men failed in their mission as Dixie had disappeared and the station was empty of both squad and engine.
Two days past. It seemed that John's friends were too busy to stop by. Early was becoming more concerned as the ill man withdrew further and lost what appetite he had.
"Dr. Bracket?" Carl came down to the ER. He found both Dixie and the doctor at the nurse's station.
"Could you let Dr. Early know Johnny's not doing well? He hasn't eaten anything today and we can't get a word out of him," the man reported. Dixie tried to leave but Kel latched on to her arm.
"I'll do that, Carl," he replied. With a nod the nurse headed back upstairs. Bracket turned his considerable attention on his friend.
"Dixie, have you checked on Johnny at all?" he asked sternly.
"No, too busy," she grumbled.
"Dix! You are not 'too busy'," he fumed. "You're feeling guilty and that's what is keeping you away. Johnny is severely depressed! He thinks you, Hank and Roy are angry with him because he's done something terrible."
"Why should he feel guilty? We're the ones that let him down!" Dixie responded.
"Yes, you did," Kel declared. "And you still are! He needs you! You and his friends are the only family he has!" The phone rang disrupting the conversation.
"Emergeny, this is Dr. Bracket," he answered. "I see. Yes, I'll be right up." Hanging up the phone he looked at Dixie.
"Carl said Johnny's sitting on the floor in the corner and has disconnected his IV," Bracket turned hoping the nurse would follow him. "He needs a friend," he tossed over his shoulder. As he walked down the hall he spied Dr. Early dragging a very reluctant Roy Desoto along.
"Can you get it through this man's thick skull he's hurting Johnny by avoiding him?" Joe asked.
"No. I have to get up to Johnny," Kel glared at the paramedic. "Seems he's pulled out his IV and is hunkered down on the floor refusing to talk."
"What!?" Desoto said and immediately fell in step with the doctor, and nurse.
"You have totally ignored Johnny since you brought him in!" Kel fumed. "He thinks you're all angry at him and now he's alone. No family."
"But he's not to blame..." Roy started.
"What is he suppose to think?" Early waded in as the elevator doors closed. "His friends totally abandon him, he's running a fever and is in pain. I know I'd probably feel the same way he does."
When the group got to the door Joe pushed Dixie and Roy ahead.
"You caused this," he said. "You're going to fix it!" Entering before the doctors they found their friend curled up in the corner, eyes staring at the floor.
"Johnny?" Roy called out tentatively before kneeling down and touching his shoulder. Dixie joined them. The look of abandonment and hopelessness was etched on the ill man's face as he focused on them.
"Sorry," he mumbled and tried to shrink smaller. Roy would have none of that and pulled him up into his embrace.
"You did nothing wrong, Junior," he said as he held on tight.
"We were wrong, Johnny," Dixie explained as she ran her hands over his back.
"I have to be wrong," He whimpered. "You all left me." Then the tears started to fall. Beyond exhausted and in pain physically and emotionally all they could do was watch him completely collapse. Between Dixie and Roy he was sheltered and soothed.
"I think they have it well enough in hand," Bracket commented.
"Still, I'm going to get Johnny a sedative," Early decided. "He hasn't been sleeping well and refused medication." He went out leaving Bracket to oversee the group on the floor.
When he returned he had a very worried Hank Stanley in tow. Giving him the syringe he nodded towards the huddle on the floor.
"Hey Johnny," Cap started, holding the medicine out to Dixie. His long legs folded as he knelt down. A bleary set of eyes focussed on him.
"Cap?" he said, "sorry." He flinched as the needle pricked his arm. Hank said nothing but reached down and pulled his friend into his arms allowing him to be comforted. He talked softly as he rocked.
"ssh, you did nothing wrong," he soothed. "We felt so guilty about not listening to you we stayed away."
"Let's get you back in bed," Dixie suggested. "And I'll get a new IV started on you. You're going to need hydration and antibiotics." Between Hank and Roy Johnny was picked up and settled on the bed. Pushing the call button they requested a new IV set up. Roy snagged the iced juice and brought the straw to his friend's mouth.
"I think Johnny will be just fine," Joe commented to Kel.
"I think you're right," he replied.