Warning: This is a pre-slash story. There will be a more in-depth version posted on the WWOMB website if you want a true slash version to enjoy.
ROCK ME GENTLY
by Lady Gage
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
"Rock me genlty...rock me slowly...take it easy...don't you know that I have never been loved like this before."
He sang loudly along with the tune on the radio. The windows were wide open and people kept looking at him as he passed them, but he didn't care. Last night had been fantastic. The song on the radio echoed his thoughts about the evening.
Who knew they could write a song that said exactly what he felt. He had a grin plastered on his face and the wind whipped through his hair as he drove.
"Ain't it good...Ain't it right...That you are with me...Here tonight...
Oh Rock me gently...rock me slowly...take it easy...don't you know that I have never been loved like this before."
He didn't notice the dump truck that failed to stop at the red light. His radio was turned up so loud he couldn't hear the horns that blew out in warning...until it was too late.
Then he heard it…
Felt it…
Saw it…
Metal crushed against metal.
Glass pelted his face and arms.
Pain radiated through his ribcage.
Something warm trickled down his cheek.
His head cracked against the window frame making stars dance before his eyes...then gray crept in from the edges of his vision...
and the song continued playing...
"Come hold me close...Don't let me go...I need you, honey...I love you so...You were made for me by the stars above..."
"Someone call the fire department! God we have to get him out of there. He's bleeding." He could hear the words, but they seemed so far away. "Hey mister, can you hear me?" He struggled to hear. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't do it.
Then he heard no more.
The halls of Rampart's ER department bustled with activity. Holiday's were always crazy, and this one looked like it would follow in that pattern.
Dixie had planned to be off today, but as head nurse, she had to make sure there was adequate staffing. Betty had called her the night before to let her know she needed to leave immediately. Her father had become suddenly ill, and she had to go to San Francisco. Dixie agreed to cover her shift and now here she was. Glancing at her watch, she sighed. The party at Roy's would be well underway by now.
The light over the base station began beeping. 'Here we go again. Wonder what holiday tragedy this will be?' She pulled open the glass door and walked up to the radio, "Unit calling in please repeat."
"Rampart, this is Squad 36, we have two victims from an MVA. First victim is Code F. Second victim is a male approximately 26 years old, around 160 lbs. He's suffering from an apparent head injury, tenderness in the ribcage, labored breathing with diminished breath sounds on the left, facial lacerations, a probable leg injury, stand by for vitals."
"10-4 36." She tapped her pencil on the counter and reached for the hospital phone, "Page Dr. Early to the base station."
"Rampart victim is still trapped in the vehicle. We're trying to extricate now. He remains unconscious and there is little response to pain stimuli, vitals are…"
Dixie jotted down notes on the information coming across the radio as Joe entered the room followed closely by Kelly Brackett. "What have we got Dix?"
"MVA. It sounds bad." She handed the notepad to Joe.
"Rampart be advised victim 2 is an off duty code I."
The three professionals paled at the last transmission.
Roy ran into the house from the deck to answer the ringing phone. "I bet it's Johnny saying he overslept." Everyone had arrived for the annual Desoto's Fourth of July picnic except Johnny who was usually early in order to help them set up. Roy knew he might be late this year, because he had a hot date last night with his latest fling. "Hel-lo."
"Roy, it's Dixie."
"Hey Dix, happy Fourth of July, we wish you were here." When silence greeted him on the phone a sense dread fell on Roy. "Dix?"
"They brought Johnny in a few minutes ago." She said softly. "It's bad."
Roy felt his chest constrict. He couldn't breathe, "How bad?" He choked out.
"Joe's in with him now. Can you..."
Before she could finish the question Roy answered her, "I'll be there in a few minutes." He slammed the phone back into the cradle.
"Everything all right Roy?" Mike asked him from the deck door.
Roy stood staring at the phone. It took him a few seconds of uneasy silence to respond. "That was Dixie. Johnny's at Rampart." He rubbed his face. "I have to go."
"How bad?" fear shown in Mike's eyes.
"She doesn't know."
"What happened?" Mike was beside him now.
"I...I don't know. I didn't even ask." Roy again stared at the phone.
"Come on."
"Huh?"
"Come on...we'll tell Cap and then I'll drive you." Mike pulled Roy's arm.
"You don't have to..." Roy stumbled after Mike.
"Cap!" Mike called from the deck.
Captain Stanley's head jerked up at the tone of Mike's voice. Immediately he saw concern etched on his face. Something was terribly wrong. Without hesitation he moved to the deck in a few steps "What's wrong?"
"Johnny was in some kind of accident or something. He's at Rampart. Dixie said it was bad but didn't give any details. We're going over there." Mike turned and tugged Roy's arm as he went toward the gate not waiting for any response. He pushed Roy toward the passenger side of his truck, walked around the front, climbed behind the wheel, cranking the engine as he got in and threw it in gear as he shut the door. He buckled his seat belt with one hand as he steered with the other.
Roy barely got the door closed as the truck started in motion. Glancing in the side mirror, he saw his friends and family spill out into his front yard like something from a movie as they sped away.
Thoughts raced through Mike's mind as he drove. How could this have happened, today of all days? He had finally gotten up the nerve to ask, finally given in to the longing. Last night had been...how could he even describe it? It had been freakin' fantastic. It had even out done his fantasies about how good it might be if they ever got together.
He planned to tell Johnny about how good the date had been. He'd thought out the entire conversation this morning. He had rushed over to Roy's early hoping to get a chance to see Johnny before the party.
But this? Not this...not now.
His thoughts returned to the present as he flipped the signal to turn into Rampart. The clicking of the turn signal echoed in the silent cab.
Roy said Dixie said it was bad. What the hell does that mean?
He pulled into the familiar drive to the ER department at Rampart. He and Roy had not uttered a single word since leaving his house. Mike dodged the walking hospital staff and visitors as he drove toward the Emergency parking. He shot the truck into the first empty space he found.
The two men sprinted for the entrance.
Mike hung back and let Roy take the lead. This was his territory. He had all the connections. They ran through the automatic doors and skidded to a halt when they entered the hall. Mike ran into his back then stepped back a couple of steps. Roy looked from left to right as though he was trying to figure out which way to go. Then they saw the treatment room door fly open and a gurney rapidly pushed into the hall toward the bank of elevators.
Dr. Brackett continued calling out orders to Dixie as the entourage moved swiftly through the crowded ER. "Get six bags of blood up to OR STAT. Call up to vascular. Get me a specialist. Whoever is on call. Get him now. Have him meet me up there."
Dr. Early stopped beside Roy, reached out and grabbed his arm moving him toward the elevator. He glanced back at Mike and signaled him to follow.
Dixie ran beside them shaking her head in understanding taking note of Brackett's instructions. They left her standing in the hallway staring at the elevator as the doors closed. She reached inside her uniform pocket, pulled out a rarely seen handkerchief, and dabbed her eyes before turning to make the important calls.
Once everyone was on the elevator, Dr. Early started talking to Roy. "We need your permission Roy. He hasn't regained consciousness. He's in pretty bad shape. Serious concussion, possible hairline skull fracture, broken arm, several ribs, collapsed lung, wrenched knee and something's going on in his belly. We're taking up to surgery now. We'll get things started and have the papers brought out for you to sign. Do we have your verbal consent to proceed?"
Roy looked at Dr. Early but didn't speak.
"Roy for God's sake!" Mike spoke without thinking.
"Y..yeah." The one word was all the doctors needed.
"Okay…talk to him guys. You only have a minute until we get to the surgery floor. Let him know you're here." Dr. Early patted Roy on the shoulder.
Johnny lay completely still on the gurney save for the steady rise and fall of his chest from the ventilator already in place. His bare chest had leads attached monitoring his heart rate. Too slow. His pale complexion marred by the various cuts and bruises spoke of the trauma to his body. The whole thing seemed incredibly surreal.
He wasn't working. He wasn't injured on the job. This was not supposed to happen. Not today. Not at all.
Roy walked up and took his best friend's limp hand flinching immediately at the coldness of his skin. His eyes traveled down the hose following the red fluid leaking from the chest tube the doctors had already inserted. "Johnny, we're here for you, me and Mike. You're going to be okay. Hang in there Junior." His voice cracked on the last statement. His gaze turned to Mike sending him an urging glance to talk to their friend.
"I'm here Johnny. I'll be here when you wake up." Mike bent down next to Johnny's ear and whispered something that no one else could hear then backed away and faced the door. He hated the smell of blood and right now the odor filled the small space and was so strong he could taste it. He could still recognize the faint musky scent of Johnny's aftershave and shampoo mixed with the overpowering scent of his blood. It made him sick.
Roy saw worry on Mike's face, he wiped the back of his hand at his own eyes in a sudden moment of uncharacteristic weakness as he thought this can not possibly be happening.
His medical training was not a benefit at the moment. All of the specialized skills and training only afforded him the knowledge that Johnny's life was hanging in the balance as they rode the elevator. Time was of the essence, and it could very well be running out.
"Doc, what…how?" Roy turned to Brackett.
"Some dump truck blew a light and rammed into his Rover. It took Station 36 an hour to get him out. We thought we were going to loose him before…sorry Roy. It was close. But he's here now." Brackett bit his lip. His hands balled into fists, and his eyes never left the numbers above the elevator doors as the floors clicked off and they drew closer to their destination.
He wasn't usually this rattled by a victim's injuries, but this was Johnny. It was a holiday and no one deserved this any day much less someone who risked his life every day on the job to end up like this on his way to a party. A careless mistake by another driver, he simply had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It just didn't make sense.
The upward motion stopped creating a slight bounce that rocked the car as it came to a rest at their floor. The drone of stale, boring, piped in music, the hissing of oxygen and beeping of monitors blended with the creaking noises the cables made as the elevator became still. The occupants jerked to attention, ready to move.
The elevator doors slid open and the group immediately sprang into action, practically running with the gurney until it disappeared into the open doors at the end of the hall. Roy and Mike stopped at the double doors that led to surgery. An overwhelming, sterile, antiseptic smell wafted from the corridor hitting them as they approached effectively halting their progress at the imaginary line where the doors stood open. The line where the colors of the floor's calming decorations and pleasant framed pictures stopped, and a stark white hallway stretched before them. They waited as the heavy doors swung shut and watched through the long windows on either door as Johnny's gurney rolled out of their line of vision.
"He's gonna be okay." Roy tried to assure Mike, or was it himself that needed the assurance. He turned and walked slowly to the surgery waiting area. He needed to call Joanne, but he needed a minute.
What would he tell her? She already knew there had been an accident. Everyone had heard that. They knew Johnny was hurt. They knew Dixie had said it was bad. What else could he tell her?
That Johnny already looked like he was at death's door; that the life drained out of him along with the blood in the chest tube. That his nail beds were already blue and there was absolutely no movement behind his eyelids. No, he couldn't tell her that. But that was the reality of the situation. That was what scared the hell out of him right now.
Mike followed him into the small dimly lit room, sunk into the nearest chair, leaned back and rested his head against the wall behind the chair with his eyes closed.
Both men sat for neither knew how long before they heard a ruckus in the hall. "Over here." Chet called to the rest of the group that stumbled out of the elevator and crowded into the small room. "What happened?"
Roy sat forward in his chair, stood slowly and cleared his throat. "He's uh…he's in surgery."
"Well that's brilliant Roy! Is that why we're in the surgery waiting room? Huh? Now tell us what we don't already know." Chet barked.
"Can it Kelly. We're all upset. Now let's not let things get out of hand." Captain Stanley tried to reel in the emotions of the curly headed man.
"Sorry Cap, it's just…" Chet looked at his Captain with sad fear filled eyes. "It's just that we weren't with him. He was alone. He shouldn't have been alone." His hands fell by his side and he sunk into a chair. "If he doesn't make it." The last comment was barely a whisper. They had been through many close calls with Johnny on the job, but this was the first time he'd been injured seriously off the job, and no one had been with him to see how badly he'd actually been hurt. Dixie had said it was bad and Chet's imagination was running away with him.
"Chet," Roy squatted in front of Chet, "listen, we are all very concerned about Johnny, but he's young, and strong."
"I know." He looked up into the kind blue eyes. "What happened to him? Dixie said it was an MVA."
Roy stood back up and directed his explanation to his Captain. "A dump truck failed to stop at a red light. The driver ploughed into Johnny and was killed."
Cap rubbed his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He'll have a hard time with that."
Roy continued, "Johnny has some significant injuries. He hasn't regained consciousness. He's lost some blood, but they're transfusing him for that now. He has some internal bleeding they will find the source and put a stop to it. He has some broken ribs, a collapsed lung. That's the worst of it."
Cap put a comforting hand on Roy's shoulder and nodded his understanding. "Joanne said to tell you she would be here as soon as they got everything put away at the house. Emily's going to take Chris and Jenny to our house."
"Okay Cap." Roy sucked in a deep breath, blew it out, turned and walked over to the window and stared out at the people below. This day had started out on such a good note. Now it was barely passed noon, and he was exhausted.
Marco cleared his throat. "Uh Cap I think I could use some coffee. Anybody else want some?"
Mike stood looked from Cap to Marco. Without a word he left.
In the operating room Kel briefed the vascular surgeon before they began the tedious job of trying to locate the source of the bleeding in Johnny's belly. "We'll start with an exploratory laparotomy. Once we find out what kind of damage we're dealing with we can determine the next course of action."
"Okay Kel," Dr. Jennings looked over the x-rays and pointed to an area where there was considerable bruising. "Based on the area of bruising I'm suspecting some liver damage."
"Doctor, his pressure's dropping."