****also, please don't kill me for the non-canon appearance of Captain Hank Stanley's wife, Susan. She is never mentioned in the series, but had to give her a name in this story.
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Johnny plunked down a stack of twigs and broken branches he had gathered from the brush nearby. The pieces were damp from the snow, but he was hoping they would dry next to the fire. It had taken a lot of his remaining strength to pull down some of the drier branches, and he was a bit wobbly by the time he reached the campsite again. They had spread the sleeping blankets on the snow, so they were somewhat drier. But the wind was still swirling snowflakes around them in a dizzying curtain. With her good hand, Ash began breaking the branches into smaller pieces to feed the fire with. Johnny sank down next to her in a sitting position, breathing out a breath of relief. He had not realized how tired he had become. He picked up a thin stick and poked the center of the small fire and then rubbed his mittened hands together briskly. "Feeling better?" he asked quietly, his dark eyes tired.
Ash nodded in response. "Yeah. Thanks, Johnny." Her voice trailed off, as if her mind had wandered. She gazed off into the distance, absentmindedly breaking a twig into tiny one inch pieces.
Johnny nodded. "Yeah, sure, it's no problem. Let's get some hot coffee going. It's getting a little chilly with this sun setting, and the new snow coming in, and my stomach has been yelling at me for a while now. Do you mind not shredding the kindling, though?"
Ash looked down at her hands and realized what she was doing. "Oh, sorry. Just - thinking."
Johnny smiled kindly and then dug in his backpack again and pulled out a stainless steel pot. "Thinking about what?"
Ash tossed the twigs into the fire, where they hissed as the dampness of the snow in them evaporated into the flames. She sighed and ran her fingers through the snow, not meeting his concerned smile.
Johnny pursed his lips, and glanced at her, then began piling snow into the pot. "Ash."
He waited till she looked up at him, and then raised his eyebrows. "Thinking about what?"
She bit her lower lip. "Johnny, I know you want me to - I don't know - open up and tell you everything that has happened to me, and suddenly become this free and happy person - but I just can't do that. I'm not even sure how I feel about anything anymore. You - you all have given me a glimpse of the possibility of a different way of thinking and - I don't know what to do about it. You're all so - kind and I don't know if I believe it or not."
Johnny laughed shortly. "No not really, Ash, I just want you to start communicating with people instead of just sitting in your little shell like a stubborn old hermit crab, enjoying the prodding and pleading of those around you who are desperately trying to figure out what is going on inside your head, and how they can fix it, but you won't say anything, because once you tell everything, they fix it and you are right back at square one. No one to notice you, or pay any attention to you until they again realize something is very wrong, and they keep bugging you to find out and you hold out as long as you can because it keeps some kind of attention directed at you, even if it isn't the best kind of attention. Ash, there are better ways of living. This way is going to eat you up until there's nothing left of you."
Ash met his gaze firmly, her face crimson - and not just because of the cold air. "Johnny, are you a psychiatrist?"
Johnny rolled his eyes. "No. But remember, I went through a lot of the same thing when I was a kid. Half breed Indian, tossed about from home to home, roughed up by pretty much everyone in my family. Mom died when I was young, and Dad died when I was even younger. Man, I just survived. I hated getting out of bed every single day. Going to school was a nightmare. The kids would bully me, and beat me up. And all because I was different from them. Finally, I just shut everyone out. I chose not to feel emotions anymore. I didn't believe it when anyone said I was worth anything, or that I was awesome. I just put my shoulder to the wheel and endured. Eventually, I grew up and set out to become the absolute best paramedic I could be."
Ash tossed another stick into the fire. "Is that why you are so hard on yourself when anything goes wrong out in the field?"
Johnny sighed and set the coffee pot onto the fire where the snow inside it began to melt. "Yeah, I guess so. But the point I am trying to make here is that you need to just reach out when people reach to you. Roy has been such a big brother to me. He brought me out of that shell over time and he never questions my value, or throws faults up in my face. He - he's just like a brother." Johnny's voice trailed off as if his mind was wandering. With a start, he came back to reality. "Anyway, just some food for thought."
Ash nodded, her face thoughtful. "I - I do understand. Well, do you mind if we have some real food now?"
The dark haired paramedic laughed. "Sure. Granola bar?"
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Hank and Roy were driving back west the way they had come, leaving Rt 24 far behind them. They were quiet and tense, and the snow around them was falling heavier and heavier. Roy chewed his lip thoughtfully.
He finally spoke. "Hey, Cap?"
Hank jumped at the sudden sound and grasped the steering wheel tighter. "Yeah, Roy?"
"They are somewhere near here."
Hank took a deep breath and nodded but didn't speak.
"Hank, Cap, what's bothering you?" Roy asked calmly. His trained paramedic eye could pick out the slight tremor of the dark hands clutching the steering wheel as if it was a life preserver, the narrowed eyes, the repeated stiff clenching of the angular jaw, beads of sweat collecting on the furrowed forehead in the middle of winter, rapid and shallow breathing …
There was no response.
"Hey, Cap?"
Hank jumped again, finally glancing at his senior paramedic, his dark eyes squinting at the sudden change from the bright lights in the falling snow to the darkness of Roy's face in the shadows. "What is the matter, Roy?"
The senior paramedic leaned back against the passenger door, propping his elbow on the window edge, chin in his hand. "We are going to find them, Cap." Roy spoke quietly, calmingly, as was his training, as well as his nature.
Hank slammed both fists onto the steering wheel. "Roy, I know we will find them. We will either find them now or when it thaws in the spring. Either way, by George, we will find them. But why did he leave them? He wouldn't have just got out and walked away in all this snow. He either shot them - "
"Now, Cap," Roy warned, pointing at his captain, "We can't go there yet."
Hank sighed, and weariness washed over his tense shoulders. He slumped down in the seat. "Yeah, yeah I suppose not."
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"I checked in all of the luggage!" Marco waved Joanne over to where he stood beside check-in, smiling at the taller dark haired woman that followed her with Joanne's children. Olivia was content as a clam on the taller woman's hip, and Chris was skipping along smiling beside her. "Susan, here are the boarding passes. Come along, we board in a few minutes."
Marco set the carry-on bags down, and rubbed his temple. A pain was settling there, a result of his stress. He was responsible for his captain's wife, his partner's wife and two kids, and of getting them all safe, states away, to the ski lodge.
Susan, Hank's wife, had accompanied the distraught Joanne, her own face creased in concern. When they had not been contacted by their loved ones after the initial alert of Johnny and Ash's disappearance, the little crew had come together to go to the aide of their men. Marco felt the weight of the responsibility settling on his shoulders. He was a skier himself, and he was well versed in the treacherous high mountains. He did not voice his concerns to the ladies, however, but determined to do whatever he could to bring his friends home - one way or the other.
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"Hank, it's getting dark. We should probably find somewhere to stop before we drive off the road in the snow." Roy ruefully surveyed the fleeting light in the higher mountains towering above them.
The Bronco was creeping along the slippery road, followed from a distance by a state police Crown Vic. Hank struggled to keep the 4 wheel drive from sliding in the deepening drifts. He shook his head, mumbling to himself. He was not going to give up.
"Roy, is that smoke?"
Roy turned to look where Hank was pointing. Not far away, over the edge of the cliff, he thought he glimpsed smoke rising in tiny wisps. Hank slammed on his brakes and threw the Bronco into park. He and Roy jumped out, and hurried toward the edge of the snow bank. Snow fell softly around them, erasing any previous traces of tracks, if any had been there before. They gazed tensely into the darkness, straining their eyes to see. But there was no trace of smoke. Not even the smell of smoke. Hank stood there for a moment, hands on his hips. Snow sat playfully in his dark hair, and settled in a light coating on his jacket. His face was lined and worn. "I saw it, Roy," he said stubbornly. "I know I saw it."
Roy glanced worriedly at his captain, who was now gazing across at the frosty mountain, a stubborn angle in his frown. The snow was falling heavier now, nearly covering the headlights of the Bronco, giving them an eerie glow. Roy rested a hand gently on his captain's rigid shoulder. "Hank, we really need to figure out what to do. We need to set up a rescue tent or something." Roy's blue eyes were worried. He motioned to the landscape behind them. "The snow is going to strand us out here and we will freeze to death before we can find them. Johnny will take good care of Ash, you know that. We have to set up shelter."
"What if he shot them?" Hank suddenly snarled through clenched teeth. "What if they are somewhere bleeding, dying - Roy, we have to continue. I know I saw smoke. Let's keep moving down the trail."
Roy threw his hands up helplessly into the air. "It's snowing, Cap, we just won't be able to see anymore. Let's set up a rescue HQ and when the Sheriff gets here with his boys, we will set up a plan of action." He felt dizziness wash over him for a moment. He was getting weary and his head was hurting again. In his heart, he prayed that his partner just had to be okay. Visions of Johnny injured drifted into his vision, and he clenched his eyes shut, angry at the tears that squeezed from them.
"I'm putting a lot of faith in you right now, John." He thought to himself, lifting his head to the sky, and watching the snow falling that was beginning to cover the headlights of the police car as well.
Suddenly, Hank nodded firmly as if making a decision. He cupped his hands to his face and shouted as loudly as he could through the deafening silence of the snow, "Johnny!"
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"There we go," Johnny set the coffee pot onto the snow, and reached for a cup in his suitcase. "Boiling like everything, now. You shall be warm in just three shakes of a lamb's tail." Carefully pouring a cup half full, he handed it to Ash, who took it with a grateful smile.
"Thanks, Johnny."
He nodded and poured a cup for himself. "No problem."
Ash handed him a granola bar from her bag. "Here."
Johnny accepted it and chuckled. "Thank you! Warm enough?"
She nodded, and bit off a piece of the granola bar. She swallowed hard. "Johnny?"
He poked the fire again. "Yeah?"
"They are going to find us right?"
He sat back on his heels, the bandaging wrapped around his head shining ghostly white in the dusky evening and making him look like an Indian warrior. "Yeah. Yeah, they will. Roy always comes through for me, and Cap isn't going to take no for an answer until he gets you safely back with him again." For a moment, there was a silence between them. The unanswered question of what if hung there, shouting its obvious question mark through the pitter patter of snow.
Ash smiled wanly. "Now that he's not here, there's so much I would like to tell him. I'm sure Roy would like to have you back too. I'm sure he's very worried about you, what with your concussion and all."
The young paramedic shifted his weight so he was leaning back against the snow bank. His face was pensive. "Yeah, I'm sure. Good ole Roy. Tell me kid, how did you and Hank meet? I mean, he was twenty six when his parents adopted you. He married Susan shortly after that. You were eight years old, so how did you guys - I don't know - hit it off?"
Ash glanced at him, eyes wide at this sudden turn of discussion. "Uh, well…Hank - um, Hank's Dad is a construction foreman that worked in downtown LA. Part of the high-rise builders. His coworker, my dad, and he worked the same shift. They became good friends. He - my dad - drank - quite a bit. Hank's dad would drive him home a lot, and just took him under his wing. During all of this, my mom was really sick, and he never even noticed. He wasn't good to her, and when I would try to defend her, he would beat me too. I started trying to hide Mom before he came home, but he always found us. Hank would come over and bring food for us from his mom, and we kind of got to know each other a little. I was afraid of him, but he was just so funny. He was like a brother to me. He would play with me in the backyard when Mom was resting. He'd push me in the swing and play tag, and once I even talked him into a tea party. I wasn't quite as - withdrawn back then. He was like the cool brother, ya know?"
She glanced at Johnny, and smiled. "All the kids knew that Hank was my friend, and he was a hero. Like my Zorro. Things were going okay…." She stopped talking and fiddled with the granola bar in her hand. "That's when things got really bad."
Johnny laid a hand on her knee and gestured to the bar. "Eat that before you finish the story."
She glanced gratefully at him. "Thanks, Johnny. I'm just not very hungry all of a sudden."
He chuckled dryly. "Gee, wonder why."
At that moment, snow from the tree branches above where they were under fell into the fire, effectively putting it out. Johnny groaned. "Aw, shucks."
Ash gazed blankly at the fire then began laughing. Johnny started laughing too. He shook his head, and began trying to repair the fire. It was quiet around them, except for the scraping of the twigs in the fire pit Johnny had made as he rearranged them. The snow whispered around the two stranded travelers, each flake falling through the air like tiny white dancers. And suddenly, above it all, a familiar voice was heard.
"Johnny!"
