Roy watched his young partner's breath hitch every so often in sleep. Rapid eye movement under heavy lids indicated dreams and the soft keening sounds meant they weren't good ones. It wasn't the first time Roy witnessed one of Gage's sleepless or troubled nights but he was never able to figure out what the quiet pleading was before now.
"Please, stop. I-I-I'll be good. PLEASE!"
John sat up suddenly his face registering pain but he wasn't in the moment. Unseeing eyes opened and stared right through Roy and the walls of Rampart into the past. John uttered a few words Roy didn't understand, mixing them with English. John's left arm came up as if to ward off a blow and Roy gently lowered it and held both of his arms firmly to his chest so he wouldn't hurt himself again. The brace slipped and John's breathing grew more ragged.
"Johnny? It's me, Roy. I need you to wake up, partner."
"L-l-lemme go. I-I don't want … I can't … Please…"
Roy never loosened his grip terrified that Gage would do more damage to himself.
A battle raged within him. He was trapped in his past, his hair gripped in someone's fist at the back of his neck as he writhed on the floor.
'I told you to clean the floors! Do they look clean to you?'
His face was smashed against the cracked linoleum again and again.
'I w-was jus-just finishing my homework and I was gon-gonna do it. I swear!'
His twelve-year-old body was left battered and broken as he scrubbed away the blood and mud from his stepfather's boots, the mantra of apology after apology repeating in his head.
John scrubbed until sunlight streamed through the window. He looked up in confusion. Someone stood outside, someone he should know. A familiar voice called his name. It echoed and split in two, one close and one far away. When the closer voice was winning the volume contest the pain subsided; he could breathe.
John looked around the rickety old room but now he was standing and he was taller. There was no furniture left.
"John, come back to us. It's me, Roy. You know me. You're not there anymore. No one's gonna hurt you again."
All he had to do was go open the window and he could get away.
He flattened himself against the peeling wallpaper as a voice called from the bedroom.
'Open that window and I'll kill you.'
The window was only four feet away.
"Come on back to us, Junior."
It was so close. He'd had dreams like this before and he just knew it was a trap. It was one of those dreams where his legs ran exhausting miles but he was never free of what was chasing him.
Gage's monitors finally peaked and the alarms blared summoning a nurse and still Gage stared at Roy's face, unseeing, seemingly unhearing.
The leads attached to John's chest fell away with sweat and exertion. Roy placed his forefinger over his pulse point. Too fast.
"Come on, Johnny. It's time to wake up. It's time to leave wherever you are. You don't have to stay there any longer."
'If you open that window I'll kill you.'
The nurse readied a shot of muscle relaxant as Dr. Brackett entered the room. He spoke calmly and asked for the vitals. He signalled for the nurse to hold off for a minute as Roy fought an invisible ghost that was messing with his partner's brain.
"Junior, please…"
Roy looked pleadingly at Dr. Brackett before taking another route. He made his voice hard and cold.
"Leave him alone. He's just a kid. He didn't do anything wrong. He's a good person."
The curtains billowed with a gust of wind blinding him with dust even as the sun shone through. His eyes were gritty and he was sleepy. Outside the window offers of sleep and safety beckoned. When had he gotten so tall? When had anyone come for him?
'Close the window. Now!'
'No.'
"NO!" John's voice was defiant as his body jerked but was held firmly by Brackett and Roy.
He ran toward the window not daring to look back and flung it open and leapt out. He fell for a long time though the ground was a few feet away.
Brown eyes with still too-large pupils came into focus before they rolled back in John's head and he was lowered onto his back. Roy reached for his pulse again and found it still hammering at dangerous levels but slowing minimally.
Dr. Brackett had the nurse administer the muscle relaxant. Gage's hands were white with exertion still gripping the sheets beside him, his posture rigid. It was seconds before he inhaled choppy large breaths as his fingers slackened. His eyes opened and blinked lazily up at Roy and Dr. Brackett.
"Wh-what happened?"
Roy wanted to lie but the psychiatrist who was consulting on John's treatment told Roy to always answer honestly.
"You had a nightmare. A bad one."
John was ashamed to admit he'd rather have heard that he'd had some sort of physical setback. Nightmares were for children and wimps.
"S-sorry."
Roy scrubbed a hand over his face, something he swore was going to end up cancelling the need for a shave if it kept up but he couldn't help it.
"Don't be. But I sure would like to know what goes on in that shaggy head of yours."
Gage tapped his own head. "Roy, runnin' into a full alarm fire would be easier to navigate than me inviting y-you in-in here."
"Well you know what they say, fools rush in, right?"
Gage couldn't move but he didn't care. He was warm and comfortable and barely felt Brackett probing around his new stitches from his chest tube removal. For once he didn't care that his naked torso was exposed. The muscle relaxants also caused drowsiness and loss of inhibitions and there was no time like the present to get him to talk.
Gage took a deep breath and for a minute it looked as if he was going to drift off to sleep but then he inhaled and words came tumbling out so fast that Roy had to lean forward to catch them all. Roy placed a hand on John's chest as he smoothed the blankets and Kel was going to leave until his name came up and he decided to sit quietly in the background to hear John.
"Wh-when my mom died, my step father was real n-nice to me in front, in front of the elders. He promised to let me st-study my language like I'd been doing all along. He threw my-my books out soon enough and my horse …" John's voice hitched. "My horse he s-sold."
Dr. Brackett leaned forward, needing to show John that he was listening and cared.
"He t-told me she went-she went to the glue factory."
Was it possible to kill a corpse because right now, Brackett was ready with the paddles in his mind to bring this bastard back and kill him again.
"There was a gun, on the man-mantle. It was my real dad's. He used to shoot it up in the air to d-drive wild animals away from the live-livestock. I took it down. I wanted … wanted to kill him."
There was a lot of that going around.
"I wouldn't-wouldn't have done it. It wasn't even loaded. I threw out the bullets or I'd have been dead long b-before that."
Roy couldn't bring himself to ask what John meant by that. Would his stepfather have shot him or … No Roy told himself. He wanted to live or he wouldn't have come so far.
Gage's head fell forward onto his chest for a minute, eyes closed but he didn't want to go back there, to that room all those years ago. He fought the sleep that threatened to take him back.
Roy knew his partner was exhausted but he prodded him on.
"I know you wouldn't have, John, it's not you."
Gage gave him one of his lopsided grins that had melted the hearts of many young nurses over the years. "Ye-yeah, I'm a-a lover, not a fighter."
Roy allowed a small chuckle out. He couldn't help it. In a room where you where you were grasping at straws you stayed at the fountain as long as you could and drank what you could and this glimpse of the cocky young man he'd come to know and love was needed more than he cared to admit.
"Okay, Casanova," Brackett nudged gently.
"Everyone's a-a critic," Gage mumbled.
Roy knew Gage was as high as a kite on the medications and he felt like he was taking advantage but there was the greater good to think about and ethics sometimes needed to be put aside.
"Who hit you, Johnny?" Roy asked bluntly.
"My stepfa-father, Roy," John replied as his eyes slid closed.
Just as they feared they'd lost him to sleep he spoke again.
"But I go-got away."
Talk about an abridged version! Roy couldn't leave it like this. He had to help Gage talk about this no matter how painful it was.
"Why'd he do it?"
John's eyes showed his incredulity and for awhile his stuttering halted and his mind switched gears so fast it was almost possible to watch the thought process change like a record as it dropped from the pile to rest under the needle from the stack above it.
"Why'd he do it? And why-why do people wanna know? Why're they…" Gage's hand came up to rest over his chest tube scar in a helpless gesture that let them know he was aware of what had happened to him in the ICU.
"I don' know. I dunno. That little boy we brought in a couple of months ago who was battered … I asked him the same question. He didn't know. He told me before he passed out. Hey, his dad, he went to jail, did you know that?"
"Yeah, Junior, you told me, remember?"
"Nah, it's all fuzzy. Roy, why c-can't I remember?"
"It's just the pain meds, take it easy, partner, it'll come to you. Just take your time."
"My old man never did time."
"I didn't know that, Johnny."
"Hey, Roy? Thanks for not askin'"
"About what?" Roy persisted feeling low for dragging stuff out that John never wanted anyone to know.
"You know, my back and stuff. Look at this." John's words were slurred and Roy was sure he'd never do this without the meds.
John managed to drag the covers up over his toes. Roy had done reflex tests on his partner's feet many times in the past but in this light and being instructed to scrutinize he could now make out tiny scars where the fingerprints were smooth and shiny across John's toes.
A cigarette. A cigarette had done that.
Roy wanted to vomit. No wonder John never wanted to talk about it.
Roy's fist doubled. His mind was racing with every conceivable horror the kid in the bed had suffered. He couldn't speak. He covered Johnny's feet back up gently and patted his leg before exiting the room.
John's face dropped a mile when Roy left.
"You s-see, Doc? I told you I-I couldn't tell anyone. He left…"
Tears streamed from John's eyes but exhaustion let them pool in the sockets as they closed.
Dr. Brackett shook his head and went to find Roy. He bumped into him by the door as he was going to re-enter.
In two minutes in the hall, Roy went through all the stages related to this news, the most prevalent being anger toward anyone who could hurt a child. Roy was a man of action but there was no one left alive to punch out, no one to send to jail, no instant gratification to satisfy his need to avenge the broken young man in the bed. He was trained to run in and put the fire out, to bandage wounds to save people. He was a minuteman but it was going to take a lifetime and a whole lot of soul bandages to staunch the wounds John had.
"Doc, you knew about this sooner than I did. Was Johnny … Did his step father … did he…"
Thank God Brackett didn't make Roy say those words. The ones that caught in his throat and made him gag.
"John was physically and emotionally abused, there is no doubt about that. He confessed those things to me when I asked about the scars as his doctor and a person who had the authority to report anything that might get in the way of his fitness for duty. He said the scars on his back are from a belt. His toes from a cigarette on more than one occasion …" Brackett had to pause as bile rose in his throat.
"I can only tell you what John didn't tell me and he never said anything about other forms of physical abuse besides the beatings."
"But the way he flinches whenever anyone touches him unexpectedly …"
"Could be from the beatings."
"If he did anything else to John …"
"Never happened," came a sleepy, resigned voice from inside the room.
Roy nearly fell from his leaning position on the door as he hurried back inside.
"Never h-happened," John said again firmly, his jaw set and jutted out just a little.
"Then …"
John held his hand up. The drug's 'truth serum effect' was wearing off and leaving only the bone weariness in its place so the pain caused by being reckless with words was back full force.
"I r-ran away more then-then once, Roy…" Bitterness punctuated every word. "Why did you l-leave when I showed you my f-feet? You asked. I wouldn't-wouldn't have told you if I thought … If I thought you'd leave…"
"I'm sorry I left. I was just outside the door. Honest. I was coming back. God, Junior, I always knew something had happened to you but I guess it was easier not knowing. If you want the truth, I had to step out of the room because I was gonna cry or be sick … When I looked at your toes I thought of Chris and Jen. We always play that game, you know this little piggy?"
"And my little piggies got barbecued?"
"How can you joke at a time like this," Roy protested standing up suddenly.
"Because it's how I forget that at one time, when I-I first joined the department, I didn't care if the rest of me got barbecued too. If I don't think about-about my friends from my first two years of high school and some of the good stuff like track and field or the newspaper or my new friends from the department, he … it-it all comes back to get me."
Roy sat and pulled his chair closer and risked putting his hand on Johnny's shoulder needing the contact as much as he hoped his partner would put up with it. John's shoulder hunched at the touch but with a deep breath it settled back down.
"I had to have a moment too because I was afraid to hear you. If your stepfather did all this to you then…"
"I'm-m On-only gonna say this-say this once. Don-don't ask me ag-again. Deal?"
"Anything, Junior, just know it's okay, no matter what you tell me, it doesn't change anything. You're safe."
"Wasn-wasn't like he didn't try … I was just faster and he-he-he was drunk. I was sm-smart. I l-l-left home for a few days when I could-could see it comin'. Slept in the barn or if that was locked in some-someone's car. It was always safe to go back after th-that 'cause someone would-would be askin' after me and he'd have to have an excuse for wh-where I was. It would stop for a few mon-months then."
Safe? Junior's definition of safe was being able to return to a home after sleeping in a car or barn to prevent being… Now Roy's hands gripped the sheet.
Roy was going to ask again. John knew he was.
"I said-said it never happened, Roy. Hell, I got nuthin' to lose by tellin' ya if it had, so why would I l-lie now?"
Roy saw the sincerity in his partner's eyes. He believed him. It hadn't happened. Sure, he'd promised Gage that nothing would have changed between them if he'd told him otherwise but the need to wrap his partner in bubble-wrap and take him home was already so strong Roy didn't know what he would do if he had to deal with that on top of everything else this accident had awakened.
"Roy?"
"Yeah," Roy answered fussing with the covers and looking anywhere but into his partner's expressive eyes.
"Can-can I go to sleep now, please? I-I'm so t-tired."
The thing that broke Roy's heart finally was that question. John actually thought he had to ask permission to go to sleep.
"Go to sleep, Johnny. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Kay."
"He's still going to have to speak to someone from the psych unit now or when he applies for his position back," Kel said resignedly.
"John won't talk to a shrink. He says the mountains are his poultices that suck away all the negative energy around him. Now I know why he runs away to them whenever he can when we're off. If mountains could talk…"
XXXX
The next day passed in a blur of short visits with the men of fifty one and their wives and some of the guys from 110, John's old station.
Roy cringed when Craig, the walking rulebook handed Gage a copy of said rulebook and a brand new paramedic training manual.
Gage seemed at a loss for words as he stared at the items in his hands.
"We know you'll be back and if they make you certify again you'll be ready. I'll even tutor you if you want."
"I-may've lost my m-marbles a bit but I know my job, Brice. M'not b-brain damaged, just the con-concussion kinda…"
"I assure you I am not addled in any way either, Gage but the manual's changed a lot since you certified and though you do your job very well, you and Desoto are hardly by- the-book kind of guys. It won't do on an exam for you to write, 'hit 'm again!' or other slang words like that. And you certainly can't draw on the weird silent communication you and Desoto seem to have. Besides, the female model for the chapter on resuscitation is a former Miss Texas and the photos are quite anatomically pleasing."
That got John's attention and the blush on his face showed his age clearly.
"I mean, yes, you're rather young but you must have been gifted to have succeeded so early in life. I'd hate to see the people of L.A. lose out on such a talented paramedic." Brice went on having no clue as the jaws dropped at his admission that he, the walking rulebook had less than pure thoughts about the resuscitation chapter and actually respected his fellow paramedics.
"R-Roy, quick, get Dr. Brackett," John said. "B-Brice needs a CAT scan of his head."
For Craig Brice to stand here with his sincere faith that Gage belonged in the department was a blessing for John. He'd never much cared for Brice but the guy was admittedly a good paramedic. And a man who completely missed the Chet-worthy zing Gage just got on him.
"I don't know-know what to say Br-Brice."
"Let's just say that maybe we have a lot more in common than I'd thought and leave it at that and if you speak of this again I'll deny it." Brice smiled but there was something Gage recognized in his eyes when he confided that he and Gage had something in common.
Brice cleared his throat and told Gage he'd brought him something else and soon a small basket of goodies appeared from his duffel.
"There's a new, exciting study out that says chocolate may actually be good for you, so my one vice may turn out to be a health food, but that doesn't surprise me, my body and mind are keenly attuned to what is right. And you can't afford to lose any weight if you're coming back to the station soon," he said popping one of John's chocolate treats into his own mouth as he told them he'd drop by again and left the room with a contented mmmmm.
John stared after him. "Well how do you like that…"
Roy walked to the window to check if hell froze over yet.
XXXX
Mike Stoker had the day off and sat with John for the morning a few days before he was to be released. Johnny talked Roy into taking his kids to the beach. The summer was slowly going by and school would soon start and the beach would be a memory put to sleep by the chill of fall.
John had forgotten that today the dreaded Foley catheter was going to be removed. This was never pleasant and there was no way to make it so.
Stoker had the good grace to go get a cup of coffee when Dr. Early came in.
"Just shoot me now," Gage moaned.
Dr. Early did his best to put Gage at ease but the truth was that with what he'd learned from Brackett and Roy about John's past this wasn't easy on either of them. No one wanted to cause Gage more pain or humiliation. He talked to John and tried to make this as routine as possible as he lowered the sheets.
Gage turned his head to the side and squinted his eyes. It was over in seconds that felt like days and he was covered back up, all evidence of the invasive device disposed of.
Dr. Early tried to lighten the mood. "We're gonna try to get you up and around today, John."
John just glared at him. "If-if you wanted me up and around, you should'a sent a pretty n-nurse with warm hands to do that."
"Now, John we wouldn't want your blood to flow to the wrong places, you're still a bit low as it is and you'd be embarrassed fainting from blood diversion and you know it."
Early didn't know if he should have furthered the humor John started but was rewarded with the crooked Gage grin. Even through the grin, John gripped the blankets tight around his body after the procedure.
XXXX
Stoker checked his watch and made his way back to John's room after twenty minutes. Dr. Early was gone. Gage just stared at the ceiling. Mike wordlessly handed him a cup of cafeteria coffee that felt good on his healing hands as he raised it to his mouth.
"Figured we'd better fill you up since you're losing those IV's today too," Mike informed him.
"How'd you find that out? They n-never even told me."
"I'm an engineer, it's my job to know what's going on with any and all hoses including IV's," joked Mike. "Seriously though, I met up with Early in the hallway."
John had to admit that he felt worlds better with the Foley catheter gone and though the IV's weren't necessarily painful they were cumbersome and stung when he moved.
The afternoon went by in a blur. A nurse came in to remove the IV's. Mike's stomach squirmed watching the long needles come out of his friend's arms and was glad when the tiny holes were bandaged up.
Gage slept for a couple of hours while Mike read. Mike looked up once in awhile to check on him noting how he looked more peaceful without all those wires snaking out from all over the place. The chest leads and blood oxygen monitors were gone as well. Things were looking up.
Gage was like a newborn colt on his legs as Stoker volunteered to help him take his first few steps with Dr. Brackett.
Dixie monitored the hallway on John's ward on her break to make sure there weren't any reporters about as John made his way halfway down the hallway before giving in to the exertion and telling his helpers in a defeated voice that he needed to go back. He was out of breath as he was helped back into the bed and gently covered back up.
"John, you did really well, you know that, right? You've been flat on your back for a week. You can't expect to get up and run marathons," Brackett said.
"Yeah, especially in that blue backless number," Chet Kelly said, entering with a sexy whistle.
Gage blushed but smiled at the same time as a nurse came in ushering them all out. Having heard Chet's remark she winked at John.
"Excuse us, Mr. Gage needs his sponge bath now." She lightly elbowed Chet.
"Hi, I'm Clary. This'll just take a few minutes and then your friends can come back in. If they behave themselves," the young nurse said.
"Come on Kelly, I'll buy you lunch," Stoker said shaking his head.
"I'd rather have what he's having," Chet complained as he was led from the room. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Johnny."
"That doesn't l-leave much, Chet," Johnny growled good-naturedly. Chet told him he'd be back once the bath was over and he'd want details.
"S-sorry about that," Gage said sheepishly.
"Don't worry about it, if I had a dime for every time someone asked for rum in their IV or an extra sponge bath I'd be rich."
"Ah …. Um. Do you th-think I could just shower?"
Now that the guys were gone, John didn't have time to slide his false bravado on. He usually endured sponge baths and uncomfortable procedures with nurses by lying and telling them that the scars they may come across were from fighting fires and saving people and though some of them indeed were from that, others he bore from abuse.
"Dr. Brackett's orders, sorry," the nurse said. Noticing that John's face was beet red she tried to sooth him.
"Just be glad you didn't get Gertrude, I heard she uses pumice stone in her sponge baths," she teased but thinking back to his experiences in the hospital John figured she might not be lying. "Besides I'm the only one on shift that you haven't dated."
Gage was very glad the heart monitors were gone. The last cheerfully delivered zing was all it took for him to be quiet and let her work.
"There, now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Clary asked when she was finished and he had a clean gown on.
How to answer such a loaded question…
"Well, you're n-not Gertrude."
"Gee, thanks, you're all heart," Clary laughed. She moved to his shoulders where she prepared a basin to wash his hair in. John tried not to sigh in deep contentment while she worked lather into his hair. When she finished washing his hair he felt like a new man. She drew the comb through his dark locks and giggled when she held up the mirror for him when he grimaced in distaste.
"N-not much for the disco look," he informed her.
"Oh? I heard you were a good dancer," she replied while combing his hair differently.
Gage's mouth gaped open when the ward matron entered with a clipboard. The older woman took note of Gage's clean dressings, the linens in the proper laundry hamper and asked Johnny if Clary, Ms. Shaw that is, was professional.
Clary looked at Gage hopefully and Gage figured out that she must be a student nurse on final exams.
"She was grrreat," John said almost too dreamily sounding like Tony The Tiger. "I-I mean, I-I'm clean…"
"Yes, I can see that," the matron said, looking him over head to toe as if she could see through the blankets. Gage shivered at that thought; an old bat with Superman vision. Creepy. And that's when Gage recognized her. His old nurse who'd tormented him and given him a sponge bath when a car hit him!
"You did well, Ms. Clary, you've passed this phase of your exam and I've given you extra points, this one can be difficult," she said, nodding toward Gage.
John was about to rant and it felt good to even have the strength to have a rant brewing somewhere deep inside him. He'd been empty and lost for so long. When he looked over at Clary chewing her bottom lip to stifle a giggle the rant melted into something else and he didn't even notice the old bat take flight and they were alone again.
"Thank you Mr. Gage," Clary said, gathering up her supplies and heading toward the door.
"No, thank you," Chet said inappropriately as he carried Gage's supper into the room for the second time today.
"Chet…" Gage started but had no idea what to say next.
"Hey, before you start browbeating me you should check what's in that bag at the end of your bed once you're done all of your beef Wellington from Mrs. Stanley."
Gage reached for the bag, wincing as he sat up.
"No you don't, you have to eat first, Cap's orders."
Gage made a good dent in his beef Wellington and Stoker marvelled at the many ways Chet annoyed his pigeon. Chet kept reaching and snagging noodles off of Gage's plate causing John to eat most of his food out of spite. It was a weird system to get Gage to eat but Chet definitely had the right idea.
"Milk too, Johnny boy, you're a growing…" Stoker trailed off.
"Menace to society," Chet finished, saving the day. His blunt jokes were exactly what was needed right now. He handed John the small bag at his feet. Inside was a double chocolate brownie with walnuts on top.
John picked up the milk and drank it wondering if this is what life back at the station and around the guys would be like from now on. Sure, they'd always protected him but now that they knew the truth could they trust him or would they smother him? If he got back to the station at all; and with that sobering thought, Johnny drank his milk and enjoyed being the little brother knowing it probably wouldn't last. He knew the department was probably really close to cutting him loose.
