Cap read the duty roster. "Break room, Lopez. Dorm, Stoker. Engine bay, Gage. Kitchen, DeSoto. Latrine, Kelly."
"Thanks a lot, Gage," Chet muttered loudly enough for Johnny to hear.
Cap heard the complaint as well. "For your information, Kelly, I had you assigned to latrine duty before you decided to pull your little stunt. If you'd like latrine duty for the rest of the month, just keep it up."
Johnny shot Chet an irritated "so-there" kind of look. Chet huffed and rolled his eyes.
Cap glared in exasperation at the two men. "Dismissed."
As firefighters headed for the engine to begin the apparatus check, Marco said quietly to Chet, "I told you it would be a bad idea."
"Shut up, Marco."
Five firefighters were sitting around the table, having just finished lunch. Johnny paced, bouncing between the break room and the kitchen like a crazed ping pong ball. Finally Chet couldn't stand it any more. "Gage! Will you just sit down? Or, go outside and do that. You're driving us nuts!"
"Don't tell me what to do!" Johnny stopped pacing long enough to argue.
"What, you think you can just annoy everyone and we won't say anything?"
"The only annoying thing in this room is you!"
"Better take a look in the mirror, buddy."
"I don't have to. I can see you." Johnny shot this less than scintillating bit of repartee over his shoulder as he stalked out of the room.
"Roy, do something about your partner before we do it."
As Johnny packed up the trauma kit, he felt a tingle on the back of his neck. He glanced up and scanned the faces of the crowd. He saw a redheaded man leaving the area. He couldn't be sure if it were Barnes or not. Fear grabbed him by the throat and started to squeeze the life out of him. Shooting another look behind him, he grabbed the trauma box and pushed past Roy, who had one foot up in readiness for climbing into the ambulance. "I'll ride in," he said tersely.
Roy appeared rather taken aback. "I thought you said…"
"I'll ride in." Already inside the ambulance, Johnny turned and looked out the doors past Roy. Then meeting his partners worried gaze, he said, "Sorry, I changed my mind. I'll see you at Rampart, okay?"
"Okay." Roy said, looking puzzled as he handed the biophone to Johnny and closed the doors.
It couldn't have been Barnes, could it? Could it? How would he have known they were on this run? This train of thought began to derail. Pushing the distressing ideas aside, Johnny forced himself to focus solely on the victim, frowning upon rechecking the vitals. He didn't like the direction they appeared to be going, so he contacted Rampart. Dixie's calm voice helped ground him as she instructed him to hang a second bag of Ringers. The five-minute ride to the hospital seemed to take forever. As soon as the ambulance stopped at the emergency entrance, he hopped out of the vehicle. Scanning the area, he sighed in relief when the man he hoped not to see appeared to be nowhere in sight. He felt even better once they were inside the emergency room door. Surely Barnes wouldn't come here.
"Treatment Room Two," directed Dixie as they rolled past her.
After helping to transfer the victim to the examination gurney and hanging the IV bag, Johnny asked, "Need me any more?" Upon receiving a negative reply, he left the treatment room and headed straight for the men's room to splash water on his face and to try to calm what felt like a roiling mass of snakes writhing in his gut.
He looked in the mirror. A pale, dripping face, eyes wide with fear stared back at him. He shook his head. He was so stupid. Of course it hadn't been Barnes. Barnes would never come after him in a public place. The man would wait until he was alone somewhere before making a move. He shook his head, hating the face in the mirror. "No more," he whispered. "I can't be like this."
By the time Roy finished up at the supply station, Johnny had exited the bathroom, his normal color restored to his face. "Got everything?" he asked his partner.
"Yeah. Let's go." Roy picked up the trauma box, leaving the drug box for Johnny. He took one last look around the hallway before following his partner out to the squad in silence.
Roy put the key in the ignition, but didn't turn it over. "What was that all about?"
Johnny picked up the microphone. "Squad 51 available." He put it back in the holder and stared at it for a moment. Finally answering his partner, but evading the question, he replied, "Nothing."
"It's not 'nothing,' Johnny. Something's bugging you. You're jumpy as hell. You can't sleep. You blow me off all the time. I'm getting tired of this. The others are getting tired of this…"
"You're getting tired of this?" Johnny exclaimed loudly. Then he muttered, "I need some air." He got out of the cab and paced to the back of the squad. They were getting tired of it? They were getting tired of it? He was losing his fucking mind, and they were getting tired of it! He took a few deep breaths and kicked at some rubbish littering the ground. Finally he returned to the passenger side of the squad.
"Sorry." He closed the door a bit harder than necessary and looked straight ahead. He sat as far away from Roy as possible.
"Okay." Roy sighed and started the squad, knowing that pushing Johnny would get him nowhere faster than a snowball melting on a hot summer day.
They drove in silence back to the station. As soon as Roy finished backing in, Johnny bolted from the squad without a backward glance, almost before the vehicle had completely stopped. Roy sat a few moments longer before heading into the kitchen. Not surprised at not finding Johnny there, he sat down on the sofa, shoulders slumped in defeat. The others had asked him to 'do something' about his partner. How could he do anything when the man wouldn't even talk to him? How could he even know how to help him when he kept running away? He thought for a few minutes longer and then went to the dorm to retrieve his new paramedic manual. It contained a large section on psychiatric conditions.