Disclaimer: I do not own these boys. Universal and Mark VII productions do. The situations are not meant to represent any real event, and the actions of the characters are not meant to represent the actions of any real person.

Hitting the Wall

Chapter 2.

Johnny realized it was time to stop giving Roy any more space. He eased his stunned partner over to the sofa and sat him down. Roy was cradling his broken hand, but not saying anything or even looking at anything or anyone.

Johnny rushed to the fridge in the staff lounge and rummaged around in the freezer compartment. "Damn it, you'd think in the hospital they'd have an ice pack..." He opened the lounge door and looked out. Dixie was at the nurses' station. "Hey Dix, you got an ice pack?"

Dixie looked over to the lounge doorway, wondering what had happened. She grabbed a bag, wrapped it in a towel, went to the ice machine at the back of the ER hallway to fill it, and brought it over to the lounge. She found "her" paramedics sitting on the couch silently. "What did you do this time, Johnny?" she asked, assuming that Gage, the accident-prone one of the pair, had had another of his frequent mishaps.

"It's him," said Johnny, pointing to Roy's already-swelling hand.

"What on Earth?" exclaimed Dixie. "Roy, that hand looks broken! What happened?"

Roy still stared at the floor, and did not reply. Johnny pointed to the hole in the wallboard and made a punching motion. Dixie's jaw fell open. Of all the paramedics she knew, Roy seemed to her the least likely to lose control of his emotions and punch a wall. Some people might put Craig Brice at the bottom of that list, but to Dixie, it seemed like he could snap at some point, if things didn't go according to his careful arrangements.

Dixie carefully lifted Roy's hand, and placed it on a pillow, setting the cloth-wrapped ice pack gently on the back of his hand. She put her arm cautiously around his hunched shoulders, not sure if he'd accept her presence.

Dixie had seen the men bring in the accident victim a few minutes ago, and knew that the man had not survived. And, she had been at the nurses' station when Brackett gave the family the bad news. She realized that something about the case was extremely disturbing to Roy.

The three of them sat together, silently, for several minutes. Nobody knew quite what to do. Finally, Johnny couldn't take any more inaction, and stood up.

"Well, pal, I guess you're gonna need a splint. Dix," asked Johnny, "mind if I snag one from your station?" Dixie shook her head, and Johnny headed to the nurses' station to find the supplies he needed.

"Roy?" Dixie asked gently. "What's going on?"

Roy continued to stare at nothing. But, after a few moments, he turned to face Dixie. "This whole thing was a travesty," he said, barely audibly. "A sick play, from start to finish."

Dixie didn't press him – she knew when silence was more useful than words in getting people to talk.

"Sacrilegious – that's the word. To take a human who has just died, pound on his chest for twenty minutes, parade him through L.A., and drop him here nearly in time for his wife and kids to see us do our precious work – it's disrespectful of life, Dix." Roy let out a shaky breath. "Plus, we could've killed someone on our way. A hot response, lights and sirens, with a dead man? Something's wrong with that picture."

Have to agree with him there, Dixie thought. Gotta be more to this, though.

"And then for Brackett to give the guy's wife the worst news of her life, right there in the waiting room full of drunks, people with hangnails, and all the drama junkies who love to hang out in the ER? Ah, Dix, I'm so sick of it all." He rubbed his face with his good hand, and continued.

"Did you see the wife? Did you see how much like Joanne she looked? And the kids? They could've been ours – same ages and everything. And Brackett just put her grief on display for the world."

And there it is, thought Dixie. He's imagining Joanne getting that news someday. She thought carefully about her next words. "Roy, I have to tell you, I agree wholeheartedly with your reservations about a hot response for certain cases. But it's not up to you and me – it's Kel and Joe who have to make those decisions. And the law says that until the person is pronounced dead by a doctor, once you start treating, you don't stop."

Roy hissed in frustration. "Yeah, but Dix, the call we had right before that? It was a 'check on the welfare' with LAPD. And guess what? There was nothing we could do for her, either – maybe we could've done something three days ago, but not this morning. And nobody questioned our not treating her. Nobody made us run her in hot. I know, I know, it's not the same – but there has to be some middle ground."

"The fact is, Roy, the law isn't so good at gray areas. Life isn't black and white. And neither is death. Until someone changes the law, we're stuck with it," Dixie said.

"Yeah, and I'm stuck with my hand in a cast for six weeks to think about it," Roy said heavily. "Man, what was I thinking? What a stupid stunt – something you might expect from my partn—"

"Okay, pal, got your splint here. Let's get this done so you can get x-rayed." said the object of Roy's last comment, as he burst into the room. He looked at his friends, who had suddenly gone silent. "What?"

"Nothin', Junior. Let's get this over with."

"Gentlemen, I believe I'll alert Dr. Brackett to expect a patient, if you'll excuse me," said Dixie.

Johnny quickly and professionally applied a cardboard splint to Roy's hand and wrist. "You okay?" he asked. "You've got me worried, pal."

Roy's brow furrowed. "Feeling pretty stupid, right about now," he admitted. "I can't believe I just did that. Captain Stanley's gonna be furious.

"Well, I'll tell ya somethin', Roy – I'm pretty upset about this one too. We lost our patient – that feels bad enough. But to have to keep on with the CPR when we all knew he was gone – that's even worse. Not 'cause I'm lazy, that's not it," Johnny defended himself, "but it just isn't right... I can't even really explain why, either. It's just not. Even in this case, where there weren't family members there who were being given false hopes by our actions. It just felt wrong."

Johnny continued – Roy was actually listening to his rant, for a change. "And you're right – I hadn't even thought about it till you mentioned it before you put your fist through the wall, but it puts lives at risk every time we're running hot. I mean, we've seen a few ambulance accidents before – even been in 'em. It just doesn't sit right, does it?"

Roy sighed. "Well, I guess I'll have plenty of spare time to talk to Brackett about this, since I'm probably gonna be suspended, huh."

Johnny frowned. "Nah, I don't think Cap'll suspend you. You're not exactly known as a hot-head who needs to be taught a lesson about self control, ya know."

"I sure didn't have much self control a few minutes ago, Johnny, and look where it got me." Roy pointed ruefully at his splinted wrist and hand. "Anyhow, even if he doesn't suspend me, I don't think I can do the job one-handed, can I? So I'll get some desk duty. Serves me right."

He looks like he needs a couple weeks of doing something else anyhow, Johnny thought, but for once was wise enough not to voice his thought. "C'mon, let's get your hand x-rayed."

TBC