Sorry this took longer than I wanted. I did finish this in June but had joint replacement surgery right afterwards and have been in recovery and rehab since. I'm learning to walk pretty well now and the doctor is confident I'll nearly fully recover. Once I got back to where I had use of a computer I discovered my beta also had suffered some disabling medical problems. We both are healing now and eager to finish this. The last chapter is being betaed as I write this and will soon be up also. Soooo, enjoy!

Chapter 7

Captain Stanley jumped off the engine, waiting only long enough for his men to join him before they stampeded into the ER. The few people waiting in the seats looked up in surprise as firemen charged through the door but since they weren't in their turnouts, they quickly lost interest. Cap walked straight over to the desk where a young woman was doodling on a paper and talking on the phone. "I know! Well it made me really mad, that's what. Do you blame me? Oh be serious! I know you and you'd have been mad too."

Cap tapped his foot impatiently once he realized the rambling conversation was anything but hospital business. He waiting a few more moments then cleared his throat suggestively. The aggravating girl glanced up at him and raised her finger in an 'one moment' gesture. Cap's eyebrows rose in surprise then crashed down as he loudly but firmly spoke, "Excuse me."

The girl sighed and rolled her eyes, "Hold on, Mary, there's some guy here getting impatient. Uhhuh, I know! Yeah I think so too."

Cap's nerves had had enough. He leaned forward and loudly demanded, "Is there someone here who is actually working?"

Another nurse came out of the back in time to hear the exchange and a frown covered her face as she opened her mouth, prepared to defend her co-worker. But a quick glance at the girl who sat frozen, phone to her ear, eyes wide and mouth open in shock was enough to tell her exactly what had happened. She cleared her throat, attracting both parties' attentions. "Jan, you haven't been making personal calls on hospital time again, have you?"

The girl quickly hung up and stammered, "No ma'am."

The other nurse nodded and turned a smile to Cap. "She'll help you, Captain." And she left. Cap was sorry she did, having a feeling the girl wouldn't 'help' him at all.

He turned back to see the rude girl paste a sickly sweet smile on her face and coo, "Now sir, how may I assist you?"

He took a deep breath and reined in on what was left of his temper. "I'm Captain Stanley, LA County Fire Department and two of my men were brought in here a little bit ago. I want to know how they are doing."

The girl blinked and in that very condescending voice asked him, "Are you a relative?"

Cap counted to ten silently and fast, "No. I just told you; they are my men. They work under me. Their names are John Gage and Roy DeSoto. We followed them in. Where are they? How are they?"

She smiled at him and he had a sudden vision of a spun sugar viper. "I'm sorry. I can't divulge any information about patients to any but relatives or next of kin." She looked him over and her smile seemed to become more of a sneer. "Hospital policy, sir. I'm sure as a 'fire department captain',… you know understand policy." Somehow she made his occupation seem like the lowest form a human could devolve into.

Cap sighed as his face flushed, "Can you tell me where Dixie McCall is?"

Her eyes blinked rapidly at that name but she held onto the sickening smile, "She had the evening shift. She's off duty now, sir. You'll have to come back later." With that, she turned from him and began shuffling papers.

Cap closed his eyes and counted to twenty. "Cap, we've looked around and there doesn't seem to be anyone we recognized working now." Marco told him.

"We can start looking in the treatment rooms until we find them." Chet suggested.

At that the girl looked back over at them, her hand on the phone, "Sir, if you attempt that, I'll call security and have you escorted out." Her voice hardened as she continued, "In fact, I suggest you leave before I call them anyway."

Cap turned around and inhaled to let this little chit know just what he'd suggest when another voice stopped him cold. "Jan, that is enough." Both fire captain and shocked girl turned to this new authoritative voice. Carol stood just in the doorway behind the desk, her hands on her hips. "I've been back here and I've heard every word of what is going on."

"But… but Miss Williams, it is hospital policy …. And they aren't kin." She stammered but Carol held up a dark-skinned hand and stopped her, her black eyes flashing. "I know that. But you also know that mostly applies to phone calls where the person asking can't be verified. Captain Stanley already told you who he was and the privacy policy on patients is for their medical condition…" She stressed the words. "You should have found out where they were and then asked the Captain to wait while you got a doctor or a head nurse to come talk to him." She glared at the girl who hung her head.

"I'm sorry, Miss Williams." She whispered but her face was more like one of Hank's teen daughters who rebelliously would repeat the words but not mean them.

Carol seemed to see it too as her eyes narrowed slightly. "We'll discuss this more later. Leave now; your shift is long over. Go make out your time card and if you add overtime I know you didn't work, I'll bring you up on charges." She promised the girl who paled and moved hastily past her. Carol turned to Cap with a genuine smile but concern now in her eyes. "Now, Captain Stanley. Did I hear you say Roy and Johnny came in? As in, as patients?"

Cap nodded and quickly gave her a short rundown of the last 8 hours of misery. She listened carefully then motioned. "Come with me." They followed her over to the charge nurse's desk where she begin to leaf through paperwork stacked there. "I just clocked in and haven't seen the reports or Dixie so she could brief me." She explained. She stopped, reading something, "OK. I see the paperwork on the call in from 39's on Roy here…." She looked around more. "Nothing on Johnny though. They might still have the chart with him."

"But where are they?" Marco asked, his eyes going to the closed treatment room doors as if he could see behind them.

Carol read something else and shook her head, "Not down here that I can see…."

Chet's face paled as he grabbed his captain's arm. "Cap! Johnny! Roy said he was getting weaker … You don't think….?"

Cap gently removed the hand but his voice was firm, "No. I don't. Don't let your imagination get ahead of you." Chet gave a faint nod but he still chewed worriedly on his mustache.

Carol watched, her own concern darkening her eyes, "Why don't you gentlemen have a seat in the lounge while I track your missing paramedics down? At this hour the coffee is usually fresh." She smiled warmly at them as Cap nodded.

"Alright. Chief stood us down for two hours food and clean-up." Cap held his hand up to stop the outburst of protests from three voices. They instantly stopped but the hang-dog expressions on three faces caused him to give a soft smile. "Relax. I'm not gonna say we should leave here before we find out how they are. Marco? Why don't you take the squad and go to that diner across the road and get supper for all of us—Roy included. We'll eat in the lounge while we're waiting," Cap ordered and the four men shuffled off, shoulders slumped.

Carol watched them go with sympathy in her gaze, then straightened, once more all business. "OK Mr. Johnny Gage, where are you hiding?"

She saw from the status report that neither was listed in the treatment rooms but there was no one else at the desk to ask. She picked up the phone and began to dial. After four calls, she replaced it and sighed, now more worried than she had been before. Admitting didn't have them listed, they weren't in x-ray or in Ortho, and the girl answering for surgery was clueless. She only knew that two rooms were being used, but not who was in there.

"Carol, there you are." A voice startled her and she turned as Sally bustled by her to reach into the med cabinets behind her. "Sorry I wasn't out here, got a tricky case in three… cactus needles in a 6 year old." She continued as she grabbed various supplies and dumped them onto a tray. "Oh, Dixie is assisting Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early up in surgery. She'll be down to brief you when she's done. Things haven't been bad but it's been fairly steady. I have to get back." Sally hurried off before Carol could question her.

Carol watched the door to the treatment room close and sighed again. "Well hello. So you have the graveyard with me." A pleasant voice came from near her elbow. She turned and smiled at Dr. Jose Estrada. Black eyes twinkled merrily at her from under bushy, equally black brows. "The night always goes faster when you bring a bit of sunshine here with you."

Carol blushed at the older doctor's honeyed words. "Why, thank you Doctor."

He sighed and looked around. "Now, if I knew where my colleague was and got a report from the man I'm supposed to relieve, I'd almost be a happy man." He clasped his hand over his heart and his face took on an exaggerated hopeful expression that made her giggle.

"Oh! Sally just buzzed through here and told me Dr. Brackett is assisting Dr. Early in the OR. It must not be too complicated because she seemed to think they'd be down here soon," she told him.

Jose nodded as he filled a cup from the coffee machine behind them. He motioned to Carol and she nodded. He filled one for her then handed it to her. She sipped the hot liquid gratefully before asking, "So, what has Rampart's most respected orthopedic surgeon on the graveyard shift in ER?" Her eyes twinkled in mirth as she teased, "Who did you tick off?"

Jose's rich laugh echoed in the nearly empty hallway. "No one, my dear," he assured her. "It's my regularly scheduled purgatory to pull a penalty shift down here," he teased back. They sipped their coffee companionably, Carol's earlier concerns temporarily forgotten.

"Excuse me, Doctor. I have a patient for you in treatment room 2." The soft voice of a nurse now standing behind him caught both their attentions.

Carol looked down the hallway in surprise. "There's no one listed as waiting to be seen and I didn't hear the ambulance, Janice…" she muttered.

"Oh. This guy came in earlier. He's one of those paramedics; he brought in a patient and Dr. Early wanted him seen also so he sent him down here." She supplied. She looked at her watch and frowned, "I was supposed to be off shift almost an hour ago."

"Go," Carol told her, "I've got this." Janice nodded her thanks and was gone.

Carol frowned as she grabbed up the chart she'd uncovered earlier. "I think I just found one of my missing paramedics," she murmured as she followed Jose into treatment room.

Roy looked up from where he perched on the exam table when the door opened and two people walked in. Jose smiled brightly at him and extended his hand. "Roy DeSoto, how are you?" He noticed that when younger man had automatically reached for his hand, he had winced and never completed the motion. "So, you want to tell me why you are sitting here?" He looked around, expecting to be tripping over Roy's worried partner any moment. "Where's your sidekick?" He asked.

"Where's Johnny?" Carol asked at the same time. Neither missed the droop of the shoulders and the heavy sigh.

"Johnny's up in surgery." Roy mumbled, his head down.

Jose reached for the chart Carol had and quickly scanned what little was on it. "Tell me, what happened?"

Roy sighed and told the whole long sad tale of the call and his entrapment as well as the rescue of both paramedics. Carol busied herself getting his vitals and quietly informing Jose of them between Roy's slow carefully spoken sentences. While he listened to Roy's incredible story, Jose gently palpated the paramedic's shoulders and arms, putting them carefully through some range of motion exams. Once the paramedic was finished, Jose gave him an encouraging pat gently on the leg.

"Don't worry so, Roy. You know Johnny has two of the best there with him. I'm sure he'll be just fine."

Roy nodded, "I know."

"You have some very worried shiftmates in the lounge as well," Carol added as she unwrapped the BP cuff from his arm.

Jose began writing in his chart. "I don't think anything is too badly damaged, just strains is my bet. You'll be sore, make no doubt about that, and I do want to keep you for the night. We'll get you rehydrated and give you some muscle relaxants to combat those cramps you're feeling."

Roy tried to shift himself and guiltily dropped his hand from where he'd unconsciously been rubbing his shoulder. Jose saw and grinned.

"Doc, if that's the case, can you wait on all that until I hear something about Johnny?" Blue eyes looked at him pleadingly and Jose sighed.

"I think your partner has been teaching you bad habits." He shook his finger at the paramedic who looked puzzled. Then he nodded. "OK. I'll go with that. However," his voice became stern, "I also prescribe a hot shower and some food while you wait or no deal."

Roy grinned in relief, "you got it, Doc." Jose clapped his thigh again, handed the chart to Carol and left. Carol pulled out an IV set-up and began swabbing Roy's arm. He frowned at her and tried to move away but the pain that caused as she tightened her grip stopped him.

Carol frowned, "Roy. You heard the doc. Now, you can still eat and shower with this IV. It'll be straight ringers; I'll leave out the medications until you know about Johnny." Her stern look brooked no discussion.

Roy reluctantly nodded and winced slightly as she found a vein. He noted she'd had to search and mumbled, "I guess I am pretty dry if you had that much trouble."

"Oh, I'd have found one….." Carol murmured as she taped everything down.

Roy nodded, knowing the former Navy nurse would have at that. Then he sighed again. "Johnny was so dry and shaking so bad I nearly couldn't find one vein let alone the two doc ordered." He scrubbed his face with his hand as he recalled his struggle treating his friend. "He needed it so bad and I couldn't….." he broke off.

"Roy. That's enough of that." Carol's voice was sharp and he raised his head in surprise. He was confused for a moment, then realized he must have spoken his dark thoughts out loud. "You got him in here in time. He's up in surgery with two of the best doctors this hospital has to offer. So just let it go." Her face softened as she gave a comforting smile, "Johnny will be fine. And you know he'd be the first one to tell you you did everything you could for him; as soon as you could."

Roy nodded, knowing she was right. Johnny would frown at him and begin to fuss about Roy and his guilt. That thought brought a shadow of a smile to his lips. Carol saw it and patted his arm. "Feel better?"

Roy nodded but knew he wouldn't truly feel relaxed until he saw his friend again. Carol helped him off the table and Roy cringed at the shakiness of his legs. He hadn't felt that weak before. He sighed, knowing Dr. Early had been right; now that the adrenaline was being processed out of his body, he was feeling exhausted.

"Now for the rest of the doctor's orders." Carol was saying as she began pushing him through the door. He grabbed onto the frame, halting their forward progression. "What? He said I could stay awake until…"

"I know what he said, Roy DeSoto." Carol's voice was clipped. "And I happen to know that both food and some very worried friends of yours are waiting in the lounge. Now," She leaned around so he could see into her face, "you have a choice. Horrible leftovers of whatever I can scrounge up in the fridge or down in the kitchen and a lonely hospital bed? Or hot food with your friends." Before he could answer, she pushed the lounge door slightly open and four heads came up from the table where the engine crew of 51's sat. Immediately Roy was surrounded, dozens of questions being fired at him simultaneously as his wheelchair was grabbed by four sets of hands.

Roy turned to look over his shoulder toward Carol who stood there, arms crossed over her chest and a smug look on her face. "You fight dirty," he accused.

She laughed, "All military medics do. You should know that; it's part of the training." She walked over with them as they settled Roy by the table stacked with containers of food. Pungent and delightful smells emanated from the open take-out boxes and Roy's stomach gurgled as he realized just how hungry he was.

"Now listen," she commanded in a firm voice and at once four mouths shut and five sets of eyes locked solidly on her. "Johnny is currently in surgery with Drs. Brackett and Early. Roy here is under doctor's orders to eat, then he's headed for a room upstairs for a hot shower and a bed. He can answer your questions as long as he fulfills those orders. If not…," she glared about her.

Cap hid a smile as he gave a curt nod. "No problem. He will eat," he assured the nurse even as he turned his own stern look on his paramedic. Knowing Roy's care was in good hands, she left to return to her duties while he ate.

Roy scowled, "Sheesh, you'd think I had trouble hearing or something," he grumbled.

"Or that you were Gage by the way they're acting," Chet crowed, then stopped as worry for his friend retook his mind. "John's in surgery? Why? What happened?"

Mike had been busy selecting food from several of the containers and piling it onto a plate. Now he slid the plate in front of Roy and placed a fork in the oblivious man's hand. "Eat," he commanded.

Roy startled slightly as the coolness of a fork was slid into his hand then glanced briefly at Mike who smiled and nodded back toward the food. "Well, those wounds were pretty dirty and his leg still hadn't stopped bleeding completely so Dr. Early took him straight up to the OR. They started him on some blood, then sedated him," Roy said even as he filled his fork, then filled his mouth.

Chet had been nodding along but now broke in again, "but that still doesn't say why he's in surgery…."

Roy chewed and swallowed before he answered, "Chet, think. They are gonna have to clean out those cuts in his arms before they can sew them closed. And he was still shaking so badly when we brought him in, Doc sedated him both do that safely and so Johnny won't feel it. Those kind of procedures are safest when done in an OR."

Chet nodded then shuddered as he imagined how painful it would be to have those wounds cleaned and stitched while alert. "Yeah, ok. But his leg…"

Roy emptied his mouth again and nodded his thanks when Marco handed him a cup of coffee. He drank then looked at Chet. "I think they were gonna hafta cauterize it. I heard Early order a tray set up right before they wheeled me out of there."

"Cauterize? What's that?"

Roy was chewing so Mike took over the explanation. "It's when there's an area they seal with a very hot instrument to stop bleeding. It looks sorta like a soldering iron."

Chet's eyes got big, "They're gonna burn him? Like with a hot iron? Couldn't that be dangerous to him? I mean burns?"

Roy shook his head, 'It's a controlled area, Chet. Quite small, really, and very focused. It's not like in the old westerns where they would cauterize an arrow or bullet wound by sticking a hot knife into it. " His eyes took on a twinkle at the slightly green look to Chet's pale face and Marco hid a grin while Cap was suddenly interested in his coffee cup and Mike finished his own dinner by dutifully cleaning his plate with a piece of bread. "That worked back then, but we're not so primitive now-a-days, Chet." Roy added.

Chet sat back, a frown on his face as he digested that news.

"And what about you," Cap pointedly looked at the IV, "What did the doc say?"

Roy finished off the last of the food on his plate and shook his head at Mike who raised one of the containers with a questioning brow. "I'm alright," he started.

Captain Stanley felt his last nerve go suddenly. It really was a strange experience and he wondered briefly at it just about the same time as he heard words exploding from his mouth. "Knock that off right there! Right there on your chest it says 'Desoto' not 'Gage'. That's the kinda half assed stupid comment I'd expect from him and I've never tolerated it before and I never will; from him OR you! Now I asked you a question and I expect a reasonable intelligent informative answer! So spill it!" Cap commanded, causing Roy to blink rapidly and the others to look up in shock. Then Marco, Mike and Chet burst out in laughter. Finally Roy relaxed a little and gave a sheepish smile.

"Sorry. I meant it's nothing really serious, Cap. Doc says I'm dehydrated which we knew and I got a little woozy from having the heat up in the ambulance so he decided I needed some fluids. He said my shoulders are strained and will be sore for a while but I'll be able to work by next shift. He wants to keep me tonight because he wants to give me some muscle relaxers and some pain relief. I'll call Jo and have her come get me in the morning."

Cap nodded at the fair answer, putting correctly into place what the Doctor had really said. He knew that since the morning would see them with three days off, Roy was probably right, although he'd make sure he was cleared for duty before he came back. He wiped his face. He had a feeling his youngest would be off a little longer. Stitches needed to be kept dry and clean and a paramedic's job was anything but either.

They sat around for a few silent moments, drinking coffee and slowly winding down from the last hectic hours. Each was lost in their own thoughts when a sultry voice startled them, "Well! I certainly hope you all left a poor tired working gal some coffee."

Five heads whirled toward the door and four men jumped up. Marco got a fresh cup while Mike guided Dixie to a chair that Cap pulled out while Chet poured coffee and handed it to her. She smiled sweetly at them, seeing and totally understanding the worried looks in their eyes. She sipped the brew and thought about how well this shift worked together. They had started the paramedic program with teams, hoping each team would mold into one efficient unit. They could never have planned or hoped that such would happen in the firehouse crews as well. But something about the Gage/DeSoto team had gelled with the engine crew and made each man into a part of a well working rescue machine. She mused that possibly the concern they had for each other might have a lot to do with it. 51's A shift really did buy into the "brotherhood" hype.

Her thoughts were disrupted by Roy's soft plaintive two word plea, "Dixie? Johnny…"

She smiled at all of them and rested her hand on Roy's. "He's going to be fine. Brackett is filling him full of antibiotics to try to ward off any infection and we're sure we got the wounds as clean as we could." She sighed as she remembered the dirt nearly impacted into the young paramedic's arms. "He must've really fought that fall."

Roy ducked his head as his mind took in a picture of his nimble partner scrambling futilely for a way to stop his plunge. "I'm sure he did," he murmured.

"So. His temp? And the blood loss?" That was from Cap.

Dixie nodded, "His temp is now normal and we're watching for any side effects from his chilling but so far he seems to have avoided that. He's received one pint already and will get one, possibly two, more units. He really bled heavily and he bled more before Joe could seal off those vessels in his legs and while we were debriding his arms. We'll be keeping an eye out for any complications from the blood loss but so far everything looks fully functional." She smiled at Roy who looked relieved. He knew severe blood loss complicated with hypothermia was severely taxing on vital organs like the heart and kidneys. It was a huge relief that Johnny seemed to have avoided that problem. Dixie drank more of her coffee before she continued, "He tore the MCL, that's one of the major ligaments inside the knee, but that should heal in about 6 weeks. If he was going to tear any ligament, that's the one to do. It heals the best without needing surgical intervention. We've stabilized his knee and immobilized it. He's not going to be doing walking for a while anyway between the gash on his leg, and that knee."

Roy nodded. "And his ankle?" Marco asked, remembered the swelling he'd seen when he'd carefully removed the paramedic's shoes.

Dixie hid a smile at how medically knowledgeable these "mere firemen" were about their young comrade's injures. "He has an incomplete fracture of the medial malleolus." At the blank looks from all but Roy, she elaborated, "That's the small knuckle of bone on the bottom of the fibula that makes up part of the ankle."

Roy frowned but it soothed away as the nurse hastily went on, "It was an incomplete fracture Roy. More of a crack really. He won't need surgery or even plates or screws. He must have hit the ground awfully hard to tear the MCl in one leg and crack his other like that."

All five men nodded sadly, not really wanting to dwell on their friend's fall. Dixie drank more of her coffee before she spoke again. "He took nearly a hundred stitches over all. He'll be sore for a while but I think he'll heal just fine and be back hassling all of us in a few days. He'll be off work for at least two months to let those injures heal then strengthen back up with physical therapy. But all in all, he'll be just fine."

Sighs were heard all around. "Can we see him?" No one was surprised when that came from Chet.

Dixie shook her head, "Not right now. He's in recovery. We're watching both his temp and those wounds for signs of infection. He's still coming out of the sedation and Brackett thought he might have to send him back under to keep him from pulling anything loose."

Roy sighed heavily and tapped his fork against his cup. "The anesthesia huh?" He muttered glumly. Dixie nodded.

Chet's eyes began to twinkle, "You mean…. He's ralphing his guts out?"

Marco glared at his friend and muttered something low in Spanish. Cap scowled and opened his mouth to reprimand the Irishman but it was the quiet engineer's turn to snap. Mike glowered at the lineman. "There's nothing amusing about someone being in physical pain and misery, Kelly. It's not like he had a choice; pain causes shock and shock kills. If they hadn't sedated him he might have died, or at least been in horrible agony while they tried to clean him up, set everything and stitch him closed. And you think that's funny?" He scolded.

Chet blinked, then stopped, thinking about that. "I guess not," he whispered as he turned his head away from the incensed blue eyes of the angry engineer. All thoughts of teasing his friend fled as he imagined Johnny helpless and in pain. He'd never want to wish that on him.

Dixie watched the exchange and her assessment of the closeness of this shift went up another notch. "Yes. The anesthesia has made him sick, as it does many people." She caught Chet's eye and added her own stern look. The Irishman gave a faint nod of understanding as he meekly sunk further into his chair. "Because of that, we'll keep him in recovery a little longer. He was severely dehydrated too and vomiting won't help that any."

Then she finished off her cup and turned to Roy. "Well. I was supposed to be off duty about a lifetime ago but I have one last task before I can clock out."

Roy raised his head and looked puzzled at her as she stood and grabbed hold of the handles on his wheelchair. "It's time for your shower, bed and medicines, Mr. DeSoto," she sing-songed, "Now come along like a good little paramedic and don't make ole Dixie cross."

Roy opened his mouth to protest but a look from his captain closed it with another sheepish grin. Cap gave a curt nod as he stood. "It's time we get back to the barn. Our grace period is almost over; we've eaten and we know how John and Roy are." He glared at the pleading faces around him. "I know you'd all rather stay here but we are still on duty. We will be back tomorrow once Gage can have visitors."

He watched the protesting looks die on their faces as they acknowledged the truth in his words. As a group they stood, cleaned off the table and trooped by Roy, each placing a hand somewhere on him as they wished him well. Cap was the last and he paused, "Get some rest Roy. You heard the lady; Gage will be fine. We'll come by later …" He paused again as he glanced at his watch and sighed, "later today to see how you both are doing."

"Roy will probably be released after we've made sure he's re-hydrated and eaten a good meal. Johnny won't probably be up for visitors until late morning, Captain." Dixie informed him as the group headed out of the lounge.

Cap nodded and patted his senior paramedic on the upper arm. "OK. We'll see you then, Pal." With that the engine crew left. Dixie wheeled Roy into the elevators and punched a floor. Roy wasn't really paying attention to where he was being taken. He wished that whatever room they put him in, they would put Johnny in as well, but knew that since his partner would be coming from surgery, he'd most likely be placed on a critical care floor. At least for the first day.

"Here we are, your cozy little bed," Dixie's cheerful voice pulled him back from his musings. He waited as she pulled the IV line and capped it off then he stepped from the chair into the bathroom. He was relieved to find he wasn't as shaky now. The warm water cascading across his shoulders and back felt heavenly and he had to shake himself awake as he realized it was making him drowsy. He quickly finished his shower and turned the water off. On the stool he found towels and a pair of scrubs. "Thank you Dixie," he muttered.

"You're welcome," came her voice from behind the door. "I thought you'd appreciate that. Now, get out here and into bed."

He came out of the room still toweling his head. Once he was settled into his bed, Dixie reattached the IV line and checked the drip. As she pulled two syringes from her pocket he suddenly sat up with a gasp. "JO! I forgot to call Jo!"

Dixie smoothly injected the first syringe even as he moved to stop her. "I called her and let her know what was happening. She said she'd be here in the morning after she gets the kids off to school. She also said to tell you she loved you and to sleep, that you'll need your rest to help Johnny." She smiled at the blue eyes looking at her sleepily as the muscle relaxer hit his system. "After all, with his arms all cut up, crutches are out and I doubt Kel will want him putting much weight on that leg or his knee so he'll be restricted to a wheelchair for a while."

Roy smiled at her as she injected the other shot. Then she leaned over and kissed his forehead, "That's from Jo too. Now sleep, hose jockey." Roy's eyes slid closed as the powerful drugs coursed through his veins and he slept.

Roy lay there in bed as his brain slowly began processing again. He wasn't sure what woke him and was a little fuzzy on all details such as who, what, when, where, why. His hand stretched out to touch his wife and instead hit something hard and cold. "Bars? On the bed?" he thought blurrily then it hit him. He was in Rampart and the missing details filled his mind. He let them settle as he kept his eyes closed and just breathed.

Once he was oriented, he began listening. There … a soft sound. And the feeling of another presence near him. He slowly opened his eyes a crack and in the faint glow of a weak over-the-bed light, he could see a figure in white taking the vitals of another person in the next bed. When Roy'd gone to sleep, he was sure he had been the only occupant of this room. Hope flared in his chest and he turned his head more to try to identify his roommate.

Dark hair framed around a pale face made sharp contrasts to the white pillow. Roy felt himself smile as he gazed at the familiar features. He hadn't even dared wish they'd put Johnny with him, knowing the more injured man would be placed where he got 24 hour care but it seemed Roy'd been "upgraded" so he could join his partner. He silently reminded himself to thank Dixie.

He immediately began a visual assessment of his partner's still form. Johnny's right ankle was sporting an open cast and was propped on a pillow with cold packs around it. His left leg was also propped up with cold packs bordering a brace on the knee. Wrappings and heavy bandages covered his lower leg and Roy was relieved to see there wasn't much evidence of bleed-through. Heavy blankets covered the uninjured parts of Johnny's lower body and were pulled up high on his bare chest. His arms were outside the covers and they, too, sported wrappings. His face was now clean but pale; his dark lashes resting quietly on his cheeks. An IV of clear fluids with a piggyback of yellow dripped into one arm and Roy identified it as an antibiotic. Another IV containing a deep red dripped into Johnny's other arm. Roy sighed, recognizing blood products of some kind.

As he watched, the nurse recorded her findings and then pulled a syringe out of the small container resting on the bedside table. She carefully turned Johnny's limp arm this way and that before she palpated an area then scrubbed it clean. Next she inserted a needle and watched the flash before she inserted a tube, twisting it until it began to fill with dark red fluid.

"Kinda seems a contradiction doesn't it? Putting blood into him via one arm and drawing it out again on the other?" Roy softly commented. The nurse raised her head and gave him a soft smile as she released the tourniquet over Johnny's bicep then pulled the second now full tube free. She pulled the needle out of Johnny's arm and placed a bandage over the site, pressing for awhile to make sure the flow of blood stopped. A bit of tape strapped the gauze in place and she carefully replaced Johnny's arm beside him with a gentle pat. She placed the filled tubes into her carton and made sure her charge was well covered and still peacefully sleeping before she stepped over to Roy.

"Hi Roy," she softly greeted him, "What are you doing awake? You should still be sleeping like Johnny there."

"Just woke up, Stacy." Roy smiled at her. He'd known Stacy for quite a while. At one time, Johnny and Stacy had dated but it soon became apparent that all they'd ever be were compatible friends—and that was fine with both. They'd double dated a few times with Marco and his girl and Stacy had accompanied Johnny to Roy's house as well as to some fire department functions. Then Stacy began asking her paramedic friend about that, "nice polite fellow who worked in his station." It hadn't taken long for Johnny to identify that the paramedic in question was Jason Schlemmer who'd just started working B shift. Johnny had spoken to Roy about what he should do about it when Jason had started asking Johnny roundabout questions concerning Stacy. Roy had cautioned his young—sometimes overzealous—friend about playing matchmaker, but, as was often the case, Johnny didn't listen. Roy glanced at Stacy's beautiful wedding ring as she took his vitals, smiling as he recalled just how she and Jason had gotten together.

Johnny had set up a date with Stacy then called Jason and begged him to take her in his place, saying he didn't feel well after a hard shift. Jason had reluctantly agreed and had taken Stacy to the highlighted concert of the year on Johnny's nickel.

The next day, Stacy had shown up at Johnny's apartment with homemade chicken soup and a big hug. It turned out Johnny HAD gotten sick from a cold water rescue and that Jason and Stacy had hit it off by the end of the night. She confessed neither one had been very talkative at first and she'd been hurt at what she thought was Johnny ditching her, but Jason had staunchly stood up for his friend, claiming he'd read the accounts of their shift and was surprised Johnny hadn't been hospitalized. Before the evening was over, both had realized what their friend had done. Their wedding had been the delight of the whole station.

"Everything looks good, Roy." Stacy told him as she finished marking his chart.

Roy nodded and looked over at his sleeping friend. "What about him?"

Stacy glanced over her shoulder at the other paramedic. "He's hanging in there. His BP is still a little low and his temp is up now but that could just be from the trauma yet. His last labs were still a little off, resulting in that last unit you see. However, I bet these new labs will be fine and the doctor will discontinue any more blood."

Roy nodded, "How many units?"

Stacy looked at him for a long moment before she answered, "That's his third." She saw Roy wince at that and quickly added, "But remember, he'd lost quite a bit before you got to him and more in surgery before they got that bleeder in his leg cauterized. His vitals are now all good, his kidneys are working and his screens weren't that off of normal." She patted the paramedic's shoulder. "He'll be fine, Roy. He just needs to rest and heal."

Roy nodded again, his eyes still on his sleeping partner. Stacy decided to change the subject, "So… what happened? It doesn't say much in the chart other than you both fell during a rescue . . . .?"

Roy snorted softly, "We didn't fall, well at least I didn't fall. More like, a house tried to kill us."

Stacy blinked, "A … house tried to kill you . . . ," then she looked clearly doubtful as she crossed her arms and asked, "and just how did this house try to kill you?"

Roy grinned, "Well, a bookcase nearly fell on me and when I jumped backwards, the section of the floor I stood on shot downward, like a fast elevator and I was trapped in this narrow slot about four feet from the floor's surface—with my arms up over my head." He rubbed his still sore muscles as he added, "I was in there about 6 hours I guess before Cap and them found me."

By now Stacy's eyes were wide, "Are you sure this wasn't one of Chet's horror movies?"

Roy gave a sardonic grin, "It sometimes felt like it." He told her more about the bizarre layout of the house and the trouble their rescuers had had trying to find them. "It was because of the girl thinking she'd heard ghosts in the house that Mike got the idea it was actually Johnny she heard calling out."

Stacy glanced over her shoulder, "I'm almost afraid to ask about Johnny."

Roy sighed, "Near as we can figure, he stepped into a room where this guy had had a glass floor that he then would project things through like flames and snakes and stuff—you know, to scare people. The projector must have fallen sometime in the past and broken out some of the floor and Johnny…well….."

Stacy gave a sad sigh, "Johnny burst into the room like Johnny does and didn't see the floor was gone until he was falling. He must have tried to grab things on the way down and that's how he cut up his arms."

Roy frowned and found himself speaking in his friend's defense. "I fell through first and I was… you know… calling him…" he finished the last words quietly.

Stacy laid a gentle hand on his shoulder in understanding. Most of the men stationed at 51's all knew the closeness of the A shift paramedics. They knew that the two men would do the best in their power for any injured stationmate but that Johnny would move heaven and earth for his partner. As would Roy for Johnny.

"Not your fault, Roy. The blame lies squarely on the homeowner. And you got Johnny out, didn't you?" Stacy comforted him. "Johnny won't blame you, Roy; don't blame yourself. He's going to need help recovering from those injures and you're the best person to give it to him. You know he doesn't tolerate being helpless well." She smiled to remove any sting from her words.

Roy nodded as he fiddled with the blanket edge. "He was trapped down there for over 7 hours, Stacy. Seven hours he called and called for help and no one answered. By the time I got down to him, he was barely conscious, freezing cold and bleeding badly …."

Stacy tightened her hold, "He's out of that hole. He's safe now. And he's here getting the care he needs. Now, how about I get you a little more pain relief and you join your partner in sleep." Without waiting for an answer, she pulled another syringe from her case and injected it into his IV port. As sleep began to claim him, she smiled. "Relax Roy. John's fine and so are you. Now rest and heal."