Acts of Desperate Men
Black-Angel-001: okay, so i haven't updated in a while, so i'm posting two chapters and new oneshot emergency story, 'time off'. does that make up for the time? -gives puppy dog eyes-
Acts of Desperate Men
"And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me. Shine until tomorrow-let it be." -The Beatles, 'Let It Be'
He couldn't have told you what the weather was like, if the flowers were beautiful, if the church was full of people, or if the pastor gave a good eulogy. But he could tell you that his shiftmates from Station 51 stayed close the entire time, that his children cried hard, that his mother in law avoided him, and that his partner kept him from falling to his knees. He'd watched dirt cover the wood of wife's coffin, and with each 'plunk' the dirt made hitting it, he made promises.
I promise I'll raise the kids right.
I promise I'll keep them safe, happy, and healthy.
I promise I'll try to come home after every shift.
I promise I'll take care of your mother when I have to.
I promise I won't become a man you'd be ashamed of.
I promise I'll love you forever.
I promise I'll see you again.
He stayed by her graveside until someone took his arm and pulled him away gently. A memory flashed and Roy shook off the arm, determined to walk on his own. He looked beside him and saw Johnny there, staring at him with concern and determination of his own. Roy looked to the other side of him and saw the entire "A" shift of Station 51, and Dixie and Brackett and Early, the same expressions on their faces. Then Roy looked ahead and saw his two kids waiting for him with their aunt. He stopped in his tracks, a bit stunned. John moved closer, gripping his arm again.
"Roy it's okay. We're here for you, pal." A group of heads nodded in agreement with him, although Roy didn't see it.
The widower started, as if coming back to earth, looked at everyone again, finally keeping his gaze on John.
In an almost whisper, as if he'd just discovered it, he said, "I know."
At the DeSoto house, the mourners ate a little and talked a lot, catching up some but mostly reminisced about Joanne, what memories they had.
Roy was just starting to relax a bit, to feel a bit more like himself. He owed most of it to his shift mates, who stayed nearby but didn't hover, and Johnny who acted like himself, just a little toned down. That he didn't deal with Martha too much was a bonus.
But the peaceful calm he'd built cracked when Chet came up and showed him a piece of paper with his name in familiar handwriting on it.
"Hey, I found this on the counter, under a bowl," he said, holding it out.
Roy took it and opened it with shaky fingers. Johnny hit Chet in the arm, glaring.
"Ow! What?"
"Don't you have a brain in that head of yours," the youngest member of 51's scolded. He lowered his voice a bit. "It's from Joanne."
"Oh. Well, how was I supposed to know?" Kelly turned to Roy, feeling guilty. "Man, I'm sorry, if I'd known..."
"It's okay." Roy cleared his throat and blinked rapidly. "It's okay," he tried again. "I was wondering where it was. It wasn't on the refrigerator like usual."
"What is it," Stoker ventured to ask. Johnny glared at him too, but didn't hit him. It was never a good idea to hit the guy who drove the engine and controlled your water in fires.
"Oh, Annie always left me notes to read when I got home, just telling me what happened while I was gone." He carefully folded the letter and put it in his breast pocket. They 'ah-ed' and Roy was called away to save Brackett from his dog, Billy.
Two weeks, John thought. Two weeks of temporary partners who asked too many questions. Even if Roy valued them as co-workers, it didn't mean they had a right to ask personal questions about him.
John put those thoughts away and forced himself to smile brightly when he heard footsteps coming through the locker room. He could at least put up a happy front for whoever he was working with today.
Please don't let it be Craig Brice. Please don't let it be Craig Brice.
He took a breath, turned the smile up a few notches, and turned.
Please don't let it be Craig Brice. Please don't let it be Craig Brice.
"Well, good morning, ready for-Roy!" John's eyes went wide and his mouth fell open.
Roy looked at him for five seconds before continuing to his locker, saying in a friendly, conversational tone, "If you aren't careful, someone might think you wanna replace me."
Gage blinked out of his stupor and into confusion. "Huh?"
DeSoto unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged if off, looking at Johnny with a somewhat hooded expression. "100-watt smile, super chipper voice, looking excited." He carefully hung it up and pulled his blue shirt out. "Much too cheerful for a temporary partner." Roy put an emphasis on the word temporary.
Johnny chuckled and shifted so he was leaning against the locker. "Well, I figured I'd make the effort to be friendly after Bellingham complained to cap about my attitude."
Roy paused, hands on a button, staring with a look of almost panic. "He didn't mess up the squad, did he?"
Johnny smiled. "No, I made sure he kept it clean."
The senior fireman shucked out of his jeans, pulling on the navy blue uniform pants as John sat down to pull on his shoes.
"Attitude? What happened, you and Reia have a fight?" Reia Martinez was Johnny's girlfriend of three months. She was a veterinarian who practiced in downtown LA; she and Johnny were often arguing about whether it was too dangerous for her there or not.
"No, everything's fine. We're uh, we're going out tomorrow night." John started tieing his other shoe.
"If you and Reia aren't fighting, and you haven't had a life altering crisis-that I know of- then why is Bellingham complaining about you having an attitude?"
"Well, it's just that-" John cut himself off. His partner really didn't need to hear his problems and insecurities, which seemed really dumb, when he thought about it. Roy was still hurting from Joanne's death and the cops weren't telling him anything new about it. "Ah, forget it, it's not important."
"Johnny, if you tell me now it'll save both of us the headache later on."
"Roy, why won't you take a promotion?" Okay, that had come out without him meaning for it to. Roy's eyebrows went together.
"What?"
In for a penny... "It's just, you-"
"Roll call in three, gentleman," warned Cap as he stuck his head in the door.
"Right," the paramedics answered together. They looked at each other.
"Well, time to get to work!" Roy frowned at Johnny's back. 'Alright partner, you got out of it this time, but you can't avoid it forever.'
Captain Hank Stanley looked each man over, smiling widely when he came to a much missed face. "Roy," he said, sticking out his hand, "on behalf of Station 51, welcome back."
A round of "yeah, welcome back", and "here, here", went around as Roy shook Stanley's hand, slightly embarrassed.
"Look, you don't have to-"
"Oh, come on, we missed you around here Roy!" Chet slapped his back. "Maybe now that you're back Johnny-boy here will pick his jaw up off the floor."
"I haven't-!" Cap held up a hand, his clear 'Don't start now' signal effectively ending the pending argument. John shot Chet a look, Chet shot an innocent one back. Roy sighed and gave Marco and Mike a 'here we go again' expression. Something in the back of John's mind equated that look with something else and he flinched. Stanley assigned duties and off the men went.
Roy kept glancing at Johnny as they checked air bottles.
"So, what's bugging you?"
John shrugged. "Nothing."
"Don't give me that. Something's eating at you, and even the other guys can see it."
Gage stopped what he was doing, opened his mouth, closed it. He looked at Roy, opened his mouth again.
"Roy, if you could be partnered with anyone, who would it be?"
"You," Roy replied, not having to think about it. "What's this about Johnny? You thinking of switching on me?"
The past two weeks rolled through John's mind, making him shudder and give a sharp, "No!"
"Then help me out here, because I'm not seeing where this is going."
"It's just...sometimes I think that...it sounds so stupid." He looked back at the air bottle.
"Johnny." He looked back at Roy, seeing the growing worry in his blue eyes.
"Look, it's just that I think you're just putting up with me, that you think I'm just a little kid you've got to look after, and that you'd rather have someone more reliable, dependable."
Something flashed in Roy's eyes, and John cringed. So, he'd been right.
The klaxons went off. Experience and habit made them pause, listening for half a second to the tones before leaping up and putting things out of the way.
"Station 51, man trapped in a tree, 1503 Texar St. 1503 Texar St. Time out, 0918."
Both the engine and squad were running and ready by the time Stanley replied, "Station 51, KMG 365."
The sirens and air horns warned drivers to move aside as they went down the street, the squad in the lead. They made the last turn and Stanley jumped out of the engine, going to an older woman who was wringing her hands.
"Ma'am, can you tell me what's happened?"
She stuttered a bit, made some vague hand motions. "Well, I-I'm not really sure. See, I hired him to cut this tree down; he said he knew what he was doing!"
"Do you know what's wrong with him," the captain asked, keeping his voice relaxed in hopes of calming her down.
"He's an idiot, that's what's wrong with him," a irritated/amused male voice answered. Stanley turned to the man standing next to the woman, who was looking over the scene with a critical eye.
"And you are?"
"Jimmy Williams. I own 'Williams Cutting and Trimming Tree Service'."
"Oh. Uh, do you know that man up there? Does he work for you?" Behind him, the rest of the crew came up to listen.
Jimmy looked like he'd been insulted. "Hell, no, he doesn't work for me. If he did, he wouldn't have that problem in the first place."
"Well, what exactly is the problem?" Hank felt like he was going in circles.
"He was taking down that limb," began Jimmy, pointing to a fairly large oak limb hanging against the tree. "But, the rope he's using for that limb is the same rope he's tied to."
"Okay, and?"
"And what? He didn't secure his rope right before he tied it to the limb, and he can't ease the weight off the rope so he can come down, and he can't untie himself because of the weight. It's a no win situation for him."
"Cap, whatcha think?" The paramedics were worried about a possible broken back, but the engine crew was worried about limbs falling on people's heads.
"Our biggest concern for the moment is making sure that limb doesn't come down, and take him with it." He turned to Jimmy. "How long have you been cutting down trees?"
Jimmy puffed his chest out with a bit of pride. "Thirty three years."
"Is that limb in any danger of falling the rest of the way?" Williams squinted, studying the tree, the limb, the rope, the man stuck up there.
"Well, I wouldn't say it's stable by any means. I mean, that whole tree is dead, so it's easy for something to break, and if any of the limbs under that hanger breaks off, it could shift it and make things worse for the guy." Jimmy scratched his head, thinking.
"What can we do," asked Chet, looking back and forth between the tree and his cap.
Cap pulled out his handy talkie. "Lets see if we can get a ladder truck out here. LA, this is engine 51, request ladder company 6 to our location." There was a beep, then the dispatcher's voice.
"Engine 51, ladder company 6's ETA is approximately 25 minutes."
"10-4." Stanley looked back at the tree.
"He doesn't have 25 minutes," Johnny said, frustration clearly showing at their current helplessness.
"What can we do," repeated Chet.
"Could climb up there, secure him right, then cut the line attached to the limb," suggest Jimmy. The firemen all turned to look at him, then at their captain.
"Sounds good to me, what other choice do we have," agreed Stanley.
"Great, I'll get my gear!" Williams started in the direction of a truck, only to be stopped by Hank.
"Now, wait a minute, just because I said it was a good idea doesn't mean that you're going to do it."
"Alright, then let's see your men free climb up there without really knowing how to avoid bringing that man and limb down, much less the entire tree, then get the limb down properly."
"Well, you can't bring him down without possibly causing further injury, can you," put in Roy. Jimmy frowned, but then nodded.
"Okay, you've got me there. But, this way a rope will be in for you or your partner to use with belay from my crew, or yours, if you prefer," Williams quickly added, seeing the glare of disapproval Captain Stanley sent his way.
"Cap?" Everyone looked at Hank, who sighed. There were moments when being captain sucked, because you never knew exactly what would happen to your men, or civilians, when you made decisions like the one Hank was about to make. For a moment, he wished he could shove the responsibility to someone else, let them take over so he wouldn't have to worry about it for the next thirty minutes. That way, if something went wrong, he would be able to actually sleep that night without the instant replays of it.
But only for a very brief moment.
"Okay, you," he pointed to Williams, "go up there, secure that man and get that branch down. After that, you get down and out of the way, got me?"
"Got it." Williams went on his way to his truck, yelling at his men what he wanted done.
Hank turned to his crew. "We'll move everyone back a safe distance, since that thing isn't going to be lowered gently. As soon as he's done and on the ground, one of the medics will go up and they'll take it from there. Now, we'll be standing under that thing a lot, so I want everyone to keep their helmets on and watch out." The men nodded. Hank pressed the button on the HT again. "LA, engine 51, cancel ladder company response."
"Engine 51." Jimmy walked back towards them, pulling at straps and adjusting the saddle around his waist. Johnny looked him over with a kind of fascination.
"What in the world is that?"
"My saddle," replied Jim with a grin.
"You ride horses too?" Roy shared a look with Jim, both of them rolling their eyes.
"Naw, that's just what you call it because you can actually sit in a tree with it while you hang there. Pretty comfy, actually."
"You ready to go," interrupted Hank. Interesting as the conversation was, he was more than ready to get the rescue under way and finished.
"Oh. Yeah, yeah, I'm ready. Just make sure everyone's clear."
Stanley nodded and watched with everyone else as Jimmy made his way to the tree and up it. The man used his upper body strength to pull himself up while at the same time used the 'spikes' on his feet to spike into the tree and push up. He looked like a squirrel or monkey shimmying up the tree, using branches and whatever other holds he had. He paused every now and again, to catch his breath, they thought, but it wasn't long before he was back at it and eventually to the injured man. He pulled the lanyard attatched to his saddle around the trunk of the tree, so he was a bit more secure, then took the rope tied to the saddle and pulled it up until he had a good bit of it in his hands.
"Headache," he hollered. When the 'clear' response came, he reared his arm holding the rope back and then let it fly over a crotch two branches made, and let it fall. Then he let it down some more, until one of his men could grab it and pull it so it could be tied at the bottome of the tree. Jimmy carefully secured the injured man properly to the tree, then reached around. This was the tricky part, the part that could turn deadly real fast. He made one last call to check that everyone was out of the way, got his confirmation, and began to hand saw through the rope holding the branch up.
It seemed to take forever. Everyone watching waited almost anxiously for the last cut to be made. When it was, the dead piece of wood crashed through the remaining branches, breaking some completely off with it as it fell. Fortunately, it didn't get hung up and hit the ground, bounced, then lay still. A collective sigh of relief went through the crowd.
"Alright Johnny, you're up." Roy hated that Johnny was the one to go up; he usually did, because if something happened, he couldn't help right away. But, Johnny was the logical choice, because of his lanky build and quickness. Together, they made sure John's harness was secure, that his helmet was tight on his chin.
At the base of the tree, Williams' men had untied the rope and were ready to pull Johnny up.
"Maybe you should let the firemen do that," suggested Johnny, thinking to keep them from getting hurt.
Unfortunately, the men looked insulted.
"Hey, we do this for a living, man."
"Yeah, we'll make sure you get up there alright. In fact, you'll hardly have to do any work at all." Roy and John made quick eye contact. Shaking his head, John grabbed his end of the rope, eyeing the D-ring tied to it and raised an eyebrow to the men.
"Tie in snap," one of them explained. "You clip it to the ring on your saddle." John shrugged and clipped it as instructed. After all, they did this for a living and he wasn't about to reject any advice they might have.
Before he really knew it, he was half way up the tree and still going. Well, they'd been right, he didn't have to do much at all, just navigate himself. He grinned and made a mental note to suggest to the chief about using this particular bit for rescues.
Examining the patient when he got to him, Gage was happy to discover that by some stroke of luck or some miracle that the man's back wasn't broken and neither was his neck. That didn't mean the possibility of some trauma didn't exist, so he called down for a C-collar, stokes, and that a backboard should be ready. It was tricky to get the stokes and it's ropes set up, having to pause every now and again when the tree groaned and cracked a bit. But, before long he had the patient loaded in the stokes and was lowering him down, then John followed. As quick as possible, he detached himself from the rope and got away from the tree.
Roy was already taking vitals, the connection with Rampart already established. The air hissed from the BP cuff, and Roy looked at John, stethascope hanging around his neck.
"I already told Rampart what was going on, they're just waiting for vitals."
Johnny stepped over the drug box and crouched next to the bio-phone. "Okay, you ready?"
"Yeah."
"Rampart, this is Squad 51, are you ready for vitals?"
"Go ahead, 51," Joe Early's voice responded over the receiver. John took the piece of paper Roy handed him.
"Rampart, vitals are, BP is 122 over 80, pulse is 80, respiration is 21. Uh, there's no indication that his back or neck is broken, but there is tenderness in the abdomen, with possible fractures in the left arm and leg."
Early finished writing down the vitals, took off his glasses. "51, start an Ringer's IV, if there's no head trauma, give 10 mg MS, intravenously. Splint the arm and leg, and transport as soon as possible."
"10-4 Rampart." Johnny put the bio-phone away for the moment, briefly looked up at Roy as his partner worked a vein in the right arm and inserted the needle, getting the port ready. While he was doing that, John got the MS ready. As soon as the IV was in, he wiped the port, gave the injection, and put on the splints. When the patient was ready, they put him, the drug box, bio-phone, and John in the ambulance with him. Roy slapped the doors to the ambulance, getting in the squad to follow them to the hospital.
Black-Angel-001: okay, so that's my first medical scene. if there's anything that can be corrected let me know via review or email. i'd appreciate it!
