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.
Chapter Two
Mike stood stark still in front of the bank of elevators willing one of the doors to open. He needed to get out of there; he needed some air. 'Come on...come on.' His body tense, he strained to keep himself from lashing out; his eyes, the only thing about him that moved, darted from one door to the other. 'Open...come on...open.'
He could hear the cables moving behind the doors...see the numbers light up with each floor...one going up...the other down...either one could be there for him. 'Why are they so slow? Can't someone fix these stupid things? Make them go faster. This is a hospital for christsakes!' He clenched his jaw. 'Whichever one opens I'm on it. Up or down I don't care.'
The rattling stopped and the door slid slowly open. 'This is the car we rode up on.' He hesitated, not wanting to step into the space where he'd last seen his friend. The pristine space almost sparkled with cleanliness. All traces of blood, Johnny's blood, was gone. He wondered for a moment who had cleaned it up. He would have cleaned it up if it had still been there. He would have gotten down on his hands and knees with a bucket and a rag and scrubbed every inch of the cracked tile floor. The idea of people walking over the blood spatters, not knowing that it was Johnny's made his stomach churn.
The memory of Johnny's face flashed before his eyes. The difference between yesterday and today was so…he swallowed convulsively. He wanted yesterday back. He would do everything different; he wouldn't have waited. He should have paid attention to that vague sense of anxiety he felt when he woke up this morning. 'I should have called him. I should have offered to pick him up.' If he'd known what today would bring, he would have done things so differently. 'I thought we had plenty of time, but now.' He squeezed his eyes shut.
'I have to get out of here.'
The door began to slowly slide closed; his hand shot out and brushed against the moving door. It returned to it's place behind the wall with a noisy thud. He darted inside, leaned heavily against the back wall and watched the doors try to close again. They popped open. A harried looking nurse stepped inside barely sparing him a glance. Mike noticed her uniform was stained with what looked like droplets of dried blood. He turned his eyes back to the door and stared at it, willing it to close. 'Is everything in this place stained with blood?'
The rocking of the elevator added to the already unstable feeling he had in his belly. He closed his eyes and held on to the rail at the back of the car with a white knuckled grip. He swallowed hard. His mouth began to water. He concentrated on keeping things in place.
'This is crazy, Stoker. Pull yourself together.'
He heard the door open again and glanced up. The nurse scurried out as a happy bunch of people piled in laden with balloons and plants stacked almost so high in the patient's lap he couldn't see anyone in the wheelchair. They were oblivious to the fact that they crowded him against the back wall. He braced himself as he was pushed and jostled. 'How can they be this happy when people are fighting for their lives here?' Mike felt anger well up. A smiling face turned to him and apologized. He looked down at the thin dark haired man in the chair. Almost as pale as Johnny had been, the man beamed at the people surrounding him. Mike's anger dissipated as quickly as it had risen. He didn't know what had brought the young man to the hospital, but the group with him obviously were relieved to be taking him home.
Dixie glanced up from the chart she had been making notations in when she heard the elevator door slide open and heard all the happy chatting. A joyous group spilled out into the hall, and she had to smile. She waved back at the little dark-haired girl that trailed along behind, carefully holding a handful of bright balloons. She watched as the happy group slowly made their way down the hallway, laughing and talking. Searching her mind quickly, she matched the dark-haired man with a hit and run from three weeks ago and her smile widened. She loved happy endings. Turning her attention back to her chart, she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Looking up she saw a man's arm reach out and stop the elevator doors from closing.
Just as the doors began to close he pushed off the wall, caught them before they closed, and stepped out. His attention had been on the happy parade going down the hallway. He looked over and saw Dixie McCall. He hesitated for a moment and then turned pale when a gurney raced around the corner. A paramedic was standing on the gurney rails as it moved, administering CPR to a bloody body even as the gurney was rushed into a treatment room. It was like seeing a replay of Johnny being rushed down the hallway. Mike felt his stomach lurch. He watched the treatment room door close behind the trail of emergency personnel and felt like he was suffocating. He ignored the searching look Dixie gave him, turned and almost staggered out of the automatic doors into the sunlight.
She knew it was Mike Stoker. The way he hesitated and then pushed off the back wall reminded her of Johnny. 'He always takes it to heart when someone is injured or when they lose a patient. Johnny would give his life to save another; it must be one of the qualities that make those men such good rescue workers.' She suddenly realized that Mike looked a little green. God I hope nothing's happened to Johnny.'
Grabbing for the phone on her desk she quickly dialed the familiar number to the surgery floor nurse's desk and checked on her friend. "Still in surgery," the nurse on duty had said. She sighed, thanked her for the information and returned to her duties.
Roy stood at the window until he felt Marco bump his arm and hold out a cup of steaming coffee. He hadn't heard him walk up. "Here Roy. I thought you could use this." Roy looked at Marco blankly. He felt another nudge and looked down. He stared at the cup for a moment and then slowly accepted it. Crossing the small waiting room, he slid into a chair and leaned his elbows on his knees. Holding the cup with both hands, he stared at the dark liquid. "Thanks Marc," he said absently.
Marco smiled at him and sat down next to Chet who also sipped some of the hot brew. None of the men knew what to say to make things better. Johnny had been hurt many times before on duty, but as Chet had said earlier...never like this...no one ever expected something like this.
Hank stood and tossed his nearly full cup of cold coffee into the trash. "I'm going to check on Stoker. I'll be back." His gaze swept over the three subdued men and then he turned and strode toward the elevators. He jabbed viciously at the down button, closed his eyes tightly and bit the inside of his lip. It was times like this he wished he wasn't a Captain. He would like nothing better than to dent a few metal doors and punch a few holes in some walls. Sure, it would put him out of commission for a few days, but it would be worth it. He signed. He had to keep it together. He knew that his presence calmed his men. Him losing it was the last thing they needed to see.
The elevator dinged and the door opened revealing a very disheveled Joanne Desoto. "Hank?" She looked up at him with fear filled, questioning eyes that sparkled with unshed tears.
"We haven't heard anything new Joanne." He reached out and pulled her into an embrace. He had a special bond with Roy's wife. The two of them hat spent many an hour in waiting rooms at Rampart when Roy and Johnny had been hurt in the past. She was one of the strongest, most dedicated fireman's wife he knew. She was Roy's rock. Hank felt better about going in search of Mike knowing Joanne was there for Roy. "I was just going down to look for Mike."
"Oh I saw him going out to his truck a few minutes ago. He's parked in the ER parking area." She reached out and placed her hand on Hank's arm. "He didn't look too good. I think this has really upset him Hank."
"Yes, I know." Hank nodded his understanding. The elevator doors started to close. Hank reached out with his arm to stop them. "Roy's right down the hallway with Marco and Chet," he said motioning with his arm. "He's looking pretty upset too."
"Hank..." She waited until he met her eyes "Mike was the last one of us that was with Johnny," She said hesitantly. "He's probably taking this very hard."
"How do you—oh," Hank said uncomfortably. His eyes slid away from Joanne's knowing look. Not only was Mike his engineer, but he was a close friend. He pulled his arm away from the elevator doors and let them close. He wasn't going to share Mike's secret, but if Joanne knew then—"Um, what makes you think that he was…" his voice trailed off. He looked at Joanne and sighed. "Does Roy know?"
Joanne shook her head. "I don't think so; but I could be wrong."
"Did Johnny tell you he—"
Joanne smiled sadly. "No. He didn't. I doubt he ever would."
Hank shifted uncomfortably. "Does it bother you?"
Joanne's eyes widened. "No! Of course not! I just…I wish I had known."
Hank looked at her with a wrinkled brow.
"I've been trying to fix him up with…well, I just wish I had known. I would have done things…differently." She patted his arm. "Find Mike, I think he may need someone to talk to." She smiled and then turned and walked down the hallway.
Hank watched as Joanne walked over to Roy. 'That's one very special woman Roy.' She reached down, took the cup from Roy's hands and placed it on the table. The doors opened again. He stepped inside.
Roy felt the soft petite hands he knew so well take the cup from him. He heard her sit next to him. Then he felt her arms as they wrapped around him and he sagged against his wife. She rubbed gentle circles on his back and kissed the top of his head. Roy usually maintained his composure in emergency situations. He had to. It was his job. However, when the emergency involved one of his children or Johnny Gage, he needed the strength his wife provided him to keep it all together. "He looked so pale." Roy whispered.
"What did Dr. Brackett say?"
"Uh he said it was a dump truck."
"A dump truck hit him?"
"Yeah."
Hank stepped out the automatic doors and looked around the parking lot. He spotted Mike's truck, but Mike was nowhere to be seen. An ambulance and squad pulled in, and he moved back out of the way. He leaned against the wall near the front of the first car in the row of parking spaces. Looking again toward Mike's truck he saw Mike sitting on the grass leaning against the front bumper of his truck, evidence of his reason for being out there in the grass. Hank followed the paramedics back into the building and went straight to the men's room. He returned a few minutes later with a handful of damp paper towels and ran face to face with Dixie McCall. "Um excuse me Miss McCall."
Dixie held out the cup of cool water she knew Mike might need to rinse his mouth out. "First of all Hank you are not on duty. Second of all it's Dixie, and thirdly, your friend looked like he may need this."
"Thanks Miss….um Dixie." Hank took the cup. "I think you're right."
Dixie patted Hank on the back. "Let me know if you need any medical assistance."
"Yes Ma'am." Hank started back out the door. He stopped and turned to say something else to the nurse.
Dixie held up her hand and waved him on. "I know Hank. If I hear anything I'll find you."
He nodded, turned and disappeared through the doors.
When he approached Mike's truck, he heard a groan from the front. "Mike?"
Mike heard his name called. He turned and squinted up into the afternoon sun to a tall man standing beside him. Even though he couldn't see his face due to the bright blinding sunlight, he knew it was his Captain. "Cap?"
"You okay Pal?" Hank handed Mike the damp towels and water.
"Better now." He cleaned his face and neck, rinsed his mouth and sipped some of the remaining liquid. It was cool and felt good on his throat. He held out his hand for Hank to help him up. "I don't know what happened. I've seen plenty of victims injured and bleeding. Hell I've even seen Johnny injured and bleeding. But Cap he was so pale his skin looked almost translucent."
Hank pulled Mike to his feet and leaned against the truck beside him. "So, how'd it go yesterday?"
"How'd what go yesterday?"
"How'd it go with Johnny yesterday?"
"How do you—wait. What makes you think I was with Johnny yesterday?" Mike asked nervously.
Hank shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. We met at Roy's and we were all set to go over to your place. And then Johnny called and said he was running late, that he would meet us there. And then Joanne had this problem with the van. Before we knew it, the game was on. None of us wanted to miss it so…"
"So you called and cancelled," Mike said. "If I didn't know you better, I would think that you planned it that way."
Hank slid his eyes over to Mike. "Sorry we didn't make it pal. But I kind of figured you could handle Johnny on your own. But everything went okay…didn't it? Johnny did go over to your place, didn't he?"
Mike stood silently for a few minutes. Pulling his thoughts together about last night brought a slight smile to his face. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. He came over. You know," he said, looking down for a moment, "that's the first time I've ever been alone with him. For a minute, I didn't know what to do." He looked up. "He's different when nobody else is around."
Hank nodded. He invited each of his men over several times during the year. Mostly as a group, but every so often, he would make it a point to just have one man over. He found that all of his men were slightly different when there was nobody else around, but Johnny was the one that surprised him the most. Talkative at work, full of energy, never one to slow down and smell the coffee, he had found that Johnny had a surprising depth to him that was completely masked when he was at work or around the other men. Occasionally during a difficult rescue or during times of high stress, he would see a glimpse of that Johnny, but usually it was only when Roy was around.
Roy heard the familiar footsteps approaching the waiting area. He shot up from the chair and waited for Dr. Brackett to come through the door. He watched as Brackett pulled the mask from his face. The man looked utterly exhausted. His scrub shirt was covered in sweat. His mouth twitched like it always did when he was truly concerned about a patient or extremely angry. "Doc?"
Brackett stopped and wiped the back of his arm across his forehead. "Relax Roy. I just came out to let you know we finally got him stable. Joe's in with Johnny now. We're just about to get started."
"Just starting?" Joanne gasped out.
Kel looked over at her and slightly smiled. "Well you know Johnny always gives us a run for our money. His vitals were all over the place. We've pumped him full of fluids and transfused him. At one point I thought we wouldn't get his blood pressure up enough to handle surgery at all, but then he likes to keep us guessing." He fumbled with the face mask in his hands. "Roy, I won't kid you. It's bad. You already know that." Roy blew out the breath he had been holding and nodded. "We'll do everything we can." Their eyes met and an understanding joined the two men. Roy turned and walked back to his seat to wait. And he would wait as long as necessary for the doctors to perform their miracles and bring his best friend back to him. Dr. Brackett looked at Joanne, Chet and Marco. Joanne returned to her vigil beside her husband.
Chet stood and walked over and looked up at Dr. Brackett. "Tell him we're here for him. Okay Doc. Tell him we'll be waiting for him."
"Okay Chet. I'll tell him."
Chet remained standing and watched as Dr. Brackett walked hurriedly back into the bright white surgery hallway.
Marco stood and walked up beside Chet. "I think I'll go to the chapel."
Chet looked over at his buddy. "I'm comin' too."
"Mike" Hank prodded.
"Huh?" Mike's eyes cleared. "Oh, sorry, Hank. I was just thinking about what happened."
Hank sighed. Sometimes getting Mike to talk was like dragging a charged hose through mud.
Mike smiled slightly at Hank's sigh. He shrugged. "Like I said, he's different when he's alone. At first, I didn't know what to do. He wasn't talking much. That's so unlike Johnny, or at least how he is at the station. I thought maybe something was bothering him, but I didn't want to pry. The game started. We had a beer and just watched it making the usual comments here and there, but didn't really say much until halftime. He still didn't say much, and I got kind of nervous." He chuckled. "I started blabbing about how the team was being managed."
Hank raised his eyebrows. The idea of Mike 'blabbing' about anything was hard to imagine.
Mike didn't notice Hanks reaction. "I think I talked non-stop for about fifteen or twenty minutes and the whole time, I kept telling myself to just shut up. At one point, I didn't even think he was even listening to me."
Hank smiled at that remark. There were times that he spoke to Johnny that he didn't think Johnny was listening either. He had learned that sometimes Johnny did that when he was being presented with a lot of information that needed to be considered carefully.
"Hank, not only was he listening to me, he pointed out a few things that I never even considered. I think my mouth fell open when he answered me." His face turned a little red. "I told him I thought he wasn't even paying attention." Mike snorted softly. "He apologized to me. Can you believe that? He apologized to me because I thought he wasn't listening."
Mike shook his head. "I was blowing it, Hank. My first chance and I was blowing it." He looked over at Hank. "You don't know how many times I wanted to call you and tell you to please come over. It's just…it's been so long and…" he shrugged.
"And then what happened," Hank asked encouragingly.
"Well, he looked at me kind of funny and then told me that he understood if I didn't want to be around him. I just kind of froze and then blurted out this asinine apology."
"For what?"
"I don't know. I just know that he looked kind of sad all of a sudden and then stood up and said he'd better be going."
"So what'd you do?" Hank asked, deeply engrossed in the story.
"I asked him not to go," Mike said softly. "I stood in his way, and I asked him not to go. Actually," Mike said, lowering his voice, "I grabbed his arm and asked him not to go, and then when I realized I did that, I dropped his arm. He told me…"
"He told you what?" Hank asked. If Mike stopped his story now, he was going to choke him.
"He told me that it was okay; it wasn't like it was contagious," Mike said.
"What wasn't contagious?" Hank asked stupidly.
Mike grinned. "It, Hank, It."
"So what did you say?"
Mike shrugged with the smile still on his face. "I told him he was wrong of course." His face turned a deeper red. "I almost…um…well…you know."
Hank shook his head. "No I don't know."
Mike stepped closer. "I almost kissed him," he whispered.
Hank felt his face turn red, but that didn't stop him from asking. "And did you?"
"No, of course not," Mike said. "But he knew I wanted to."
"So why didn't you then?"
Mike's eyes widened. "Because it wouldn't have been right."
"It wouldn't?"
Mike rolled his eyes. "Of course not."
Hank sighed. "Am I missing something here? Isn't that what you've been waiting for?"
"Well…yeah…I mean…no." Mike sighed. "Hank, I respect him. I don't I'll ever meet anyone like him. I don't want to ruin everything by rushing. Stuff like that takes time."
"It does, huh? So, you didn't kiss him. Got it." Hank said. He thought he was handling this all rather well.
Mike turned a darker red and looked away.
"You did kiss him!"
Mike shook his head and smiled.
"He kissed you then!"
Mike's smile grew bigger but he didn't answer the question.
"I won't tell a soul," Hank said. "Scouts honor."
Mike laughed. "We had a good time," he said, avoiding the question. "We went to dinner and after that, we took a long walk on the beach. I don't think I've ever had so much fun." His smile faded. "He's nice Hank. And he's nothing like the way he is at work." He looked away. "I guess I can understand that though." He took a deep breath and let it out. "Hank, please tell me he's going to be okay…"
It was then that Dixie cleared her throat to make herself known. "Ahem."
Hank stood up and looked at her expectantly. "Did you hear something about Johnny?"
"He's finally stable enough to begin the surgery." She walked around in front of Mike and looked him over. "Are you feeling better?"
Mike blushed three shades of red. "Yes Ma'am." He looked at his shoes.
"Well that's good. Johnny wouldn't want you to make yourself sick over this." She smiled.
Mike's head shot up and he looked into Dixie's eyes. 'Does she know too?'
