a/n: Sorry for the long delay between chapters. I've still been working two jobs. I'm hoping to change that soon. I moved to a new position where I work that pays a little more, and I think my muse has been on a long vacation without me. LOL! Enjoy!
As he pulled around the station, Johnny noticed Roy's Porsche. He had thought today might be the beginning of a new partnership, but now he got to look forward to yet another tense shift. Sighing he slid the Rover into his usual spot, shut off the engine, leaned his head back and closed his eyes; thinking maybe if he just kept to himself they could get through it without another confrontation.
Chet looked up from putting his turnout coat on his seat in the engine and noticed Johnny pulling in. What surprised him was that Johnny didn't swing around and back in like he usually did. He walked to the back of the engine and pretended to be checking the hoses while keeping an eye on the Rover. Johnny hadn't gotten out yet. That too was unusual. Johnny more often than not was climbing out as he shut off the engine. Something was up. Chet moved around to the other side not wanting Johnny to catch him watching. He listened for the truck door to close before turning back around. When he did he couldn't believe Johnny's appearance. The man looked positively haggard. His feet shuffled; missing was the normal spring in his step. It looked as though he'd forgotten to comb his hair, and his uniforms were practically dragging the ground. "Hey Gage, what the hell happened to you? Did ya tie on a good one yesterday?" He badgered. Johnny walked past without any response. "What's-a-matter babe? Hangover?" Chet feigned a chuckle while concern ran rampant. Surely, things were better between Johnny and Roy by now. They'd been so concerned about each other just last shift. It wasn't like Johnny to drink much less come in hung over. This was bad…really bad. He turned and headed to the kitchen to find Mike and Marco.
Johnny heard Chet taunting him, but he just didn't have the energy to face The Phantom right now. He had to get changed and find some coffee before roll call. His stomach growled just as he pushed on the locker room door. He hoped that C-Shift had cooked breakfast and left a few morsels behind. He'd slept through the day yesterday after taking those pills and woke up late this morning not having time to eat. As he stepped through the door he hesitated. Roy was sitting on the bench lacing his work boots. Johnny quickly averted his eyes and crossed to his locker flinging the door open with a little too much force. With the door open he could avoid making eye contact.
Roy glanced up from his boot and was shocked at his partner's appearance. "You okay?" Johnny mumbled something into his locker that Roy couldn't make out. He finished lacing his boot and stood. "Johnny?" His partner leaned back and looked around the locker door. "You alright?"
"I said I'm fine, Roy." He ducked back behind the door and pulled off his t-shirt quickly replacing it with a white one from his locker hoping Roy hadn't seen the colorful bruises still decorating his back.
"You don't look fine." Roy's tone sounded unintentionally condescending. "You look like Hell."
That did it; Johnny slammed the locker door with his blue work shirt squeezed in his right hand. "I get it, Roy. We all get it!" He waved the shirt in the air banging his knuckles against the locker, but he was too angry to let it slow him down. "Everybody knows you think I can't handle the squad without you in it. Well I can! I've done it before when you were on the injured list. I know you passed the training before me. Hell, you practically built the program, but I performed the first official procedure. Me!" He stabbed his finger in his chest. "I shocked the first heart attack victim back to life. Me…not you. So you see, we were both in it from the get go. Yeah, you've been a firefighter and a rescue man longer than me, but we became paramedics at the same damn time!" He shook out his shirt and whipped it around pulling it onto his arms. His back muscles screamed at the movement, but again he didn't allow himself to show it. He wouldn't let Roy see the pain he felt from the abrupt movement. The bruises were still sore, but no worse than any other guy who had fallen on his tank or had debris fall on him. He could work through it. His fingers trembled as he fumbled with the buttons. "I know you don't really want to leave a program you helped build. You're one of the best. But obviously it's what you planned on doing when you signed up to take the test. Right?" He glared at Roy, who hadn't said a word. "Well, what did you think was gonna happen? Did you hope to fail? I don't believe that, because you've never failed at anything in your life. So, the problem has to be that you don't think I can do the job without you. Is that it?" Johnny stopped fiddling with the buttons. They just wouldn't close. "Well get over yourself Desoto. This is my house now. Ya got that! My squad. You're leaving." With that Johnny turned and disappeared through the door while pinning his badge on the unbuttoned shirt; leaving Roy standing with his mouth open.
Johnny rounded the engine and stopped with his hands on his hips, so much for no confrontation. He ran his hands through his hair, looked at his reddened knuckles and leaned back against the side panel taking a few deep breaths. Then he slowly buttoned his shirt. Pushing off the engine he tucked it in as he crossed the bay towards the kitchen. He'd lost his appetite, but knew he needed to try to eat something. They could get called out as soon as C-shift left and be gone all day. When he entered the kitchen there was a hushed silence. No one looked up at him… neither his shift mates nor the guys from the other shift. "Morning." He said softly as he crossed to the coffee pot.
Someone behind him cleared their throat. A chair scraped and he could hear someone walking as he lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip with his back still to the room. The coffee was hot and bitter, but he sipped again. He knew they'd all heard. He had to turn around and face them, but not before one…or two more sips of coffee…and maybe he'd top off the cup.
"Here Johnny." Mike held out a plate with bacon, eggs and toast. "C-shift had leftovers. You, um, you look like you could use it." He waved to the table with the plate before moving to set it down. In typical Mike fashion that was all that was said. The engineer turned and returned to his seat at the table.
Johnny sat down and picked up a piece of bacon. He stopped with it in mid air. "What?" he asked before biting off half the strip, and then with his mouth full of bacon he continued on. "Well, come on ask."
"Ask what, Gage?" Chet, always the one to speak up, asked with a raised eyebrow.
"About that." He pointed with the other half of the bacon strip. "You all want to know, don't ya? Well, I'll tell ya. Roy's just worrying like he always does." He pulled the strip back to his mouth and finished it off. Then he picked up his fork and scooped up some eggs. "I told him though." He took a bite and chewed for a minute. "I told him this is now my house; my squad. Done deal." He sounded confident on the outside; felt sick on the inside, the food almost getting stuck on its way down.
"Oh, that. Yeah, we heard all that. What we wanted to know was what happened on your day off." Chet smiled and wiggled his eyebrows. Of course they all heard, but that was a very uncomfortable subject for everyone. "Was it with a babe?"
"Huh?" Johnny stopped in mid bite of toast.
"Why you're hung over?" Chet continued. No one else had said anything, but they all leaned in pretending to be in on the question. They'd all agreed before Johnny got in the room that they wouldn't question either of the two paramedics about the yelling. It was safer to just leave that alone. The guys hoped that if they were lucky the two men might still walk away from this promotion situation as friends, especially if no one talked about it.
Johnny's mouth dropped open and he leaned back in his chair. He almost spoke up to tell them he wasn't hung over, but he stopped for a second and decided that yes, in a way he was. Pain pills and muscle relaxers always did that to him. Maybe it would be easier to let everyone think that he had been drunk. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He leaned forward and picked up his fork again.
"Aw come on Johnny." Marco teased.
Johnny smiled. "Nope…not telling."
Roy couldn't believe what he'd just heard from his best friend. Johnny got excited, but he rarely every yelled. Was Johnny right? He looked at the door as it swung shut. No, of course he wasn't. Roy knew what a great paramedic Johnny was. He admired the way he could calm a hysterical patient, and never seemed to fear any rescue. He did plan to take the test to get promoted. He wanted to get promoted. He needed to. He looked back at his feet and sighed. Then he crossed the locker room and pushed through the door. He could hear the bantering in the kitchen and day room, but didn't feel like being around anyone at the moment.
He walked around the back of the engine and stopped. He looked from the squad to the engine. Was it what he wanted? He thought back to when he told Johnny he was taking the test… "So...um...yeah, I signed up to take the engineer's exam." Roy had said nervously. He couldn't even look at his best friend; his partner. He knew things were going to change. They had to...eventually anyway. "Damn." Johnny whispered almost inaudibly as he turned away.
Roy walked along the length of the big rig looking at the different compartments. He slid his hand down the smooth surface to the control panel. As he moved his fingers across the different gauges and knobs he could almost hear Mike explaining what each did and how to read the fluctuations. That brought a smile. He moved toward the front stopping to glance in at Marco's seat; his turnout coat and helmet waiting at the ready. Then he slid his hand up and grabbed the cold metal handle and opened the door. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching he climbed up and easily slid into the seat. He closed the door and looked out the front. It felt different from the squad, bigger. He coughed a chuckle. It was bigger. He slid his hands around the large steering wheel and looked over at Cap's seat. He could do this. He would. It would be a different engine at a different station, but he'd trained hard for this. He looked out the side window and down at the squad not able to stop the sigh that escaped. Then he climbed down, softly closed the door and traced the 51. Soon this would no longer be his home away from home.