Roy and Joanne decided their first stop should be to see his partner. Roy warned her that Johnny would be looking rather...colorful, but she was not a woman who was easily scared off by the sight of blood. She'd seen too much of it in her years as a fireman's wife to be frightened away now. Arm-in-arm, they made their way back to the ICU and toward Johnny's room.
A nurse was just leaving Gage's room with a basin and towel, and the DeSotos rightly assumed she had given Johnny a bath. She smiled graciously at the couple and went down the hall. "At least it wasn't Attila the Nurse this time," Roy thought to himself, remembering the old battle-axe that had made their last joint hospital experience even more miserable.
Roy held the door for Joanne and she peeked in. By now, Joanne knew the story of how their friend had been beaten trying to protect Mike and Cap. She knew that he'd be laid up for some time, yet in her head, she couldn't help picturing him sitting up and smiling that resolve-melting grin. It was anything but. Johnny's eye, lips and nose were still swollen and she doubted he could have grinned if he wanted to. He was asleep, breathing through his slightly parted lips. His nose was packed and taped so thoroughly, he resembled a parcel awaiting shipment. He had ice packs applied to his knee and ankle and his ribs were taped as well.
"Oh, gracious," Joanne whispered,"He looks awful, Roy. Should we wake him?"
"Hmm, maybe not; let's let him sleep. Lemme take a look at his chart first, then we'll go see Cap and Mike."
Roy took the chart that hung from John's bed and perused all the information inside, then returned it to its spot. He stepped closer and looked at Johnny for a few moments. Roy had been so close to being inside the house when everything went wrong; so close. He could easily have been in the thick of it and was both grateful and guilt-ridden that he hadn't. He sighed and mumbled, "Well, at least Jordan won't be causing any more trouble for you, Junior."
"Roy? Did you say something?" Joanne asked.
"Oh, uh, no...nothing important. Let's go see the other guys and come back later."
Roy and Joanne left Johnny's room as quietly as they had entered it, with Gage oblivious to it all. The afternoon visits to Mike and Cap were short but encouraging as the men were in good spirits now and resting as comfortably as they could. Mike wore a genuine smile during most of their visit and for that, Roy was thankful. Although it hadn't yet been forty-eight hours since the attack, everyone was ready to start putting it behind them. Knowing now that Jordan was dead, Mike was eager to start physical therapy again so he could get home to familiar territory. He wanted to be well on the way to recovery before his mom and sister came to visit.
A second quick stop to Johnny's room was just as disappointing as the first as he was still napping. Since Roy was on shift the next morning, he decided to leave a note for his partner, promising he'd visit then as often as he could. Joanne leaned over and gave a gentle peck to Johnny's forehead and they left for home. They picked their children up at their friends' house on the way and the rest of the trip was filled with conversation about what the kids had done there and what Joanne would make for dinner.
"Finally, something akin to normal," Roy mused. "Maybe later I'll call over to Mike's and see if Chet and Marco need any help tonight." Warm, comforting sounds came from the kitchen as Joanne prepared dinner. He smiled as he stood at the back door for a few moments and watched Chris and Jenny running around the yard. "So close," he thought again. Then shaking those thoughts from his mind, he went outside to join his kids in a game of tag.
While Roy and his family were settling back in, Marco and Chet were sitting on Mike's patio, each enjoying a cold beer and the churros that Mama Lopez had sent along.
"Beer and churros; what a weird combo," Marco said aloud, "Mama would be appalled."
Chet's stomach growled loudly, not placated by the sweet, cinnamon-dusted treats. He wiped the sugar from his mustache and flicked his fingers together, making the crumbs fall to the ground. "Delicious, Marco, but messy. You do realize we skipped lunch, right? I'm still hungry; wanna order a pizza?"
"Nah, I'm thinking a run to Benny's Burger Hut sounds better. Anyway, amigo, we should probably lock up this place and head home, you know; we gotta work in the morning. Or...do you plan to do some more cat-hunting tonight?"
"Well...no, I hadn't planned on it, but now that you mention it..."
"Better be careful, Chet," Marco teased, "you sound so realistic, you might attract an amorous suitor!"
"Feh, whadda' you know?" Chet growled, throwing the crumpled up sack at Marco with a laugh. "It would have worked if I didn't have to stop and do the cleaning."
"Whatever you say, Chester," Marco chuckled. "C'mon, let's go get some burgers."
They stood and stretched, and as Marco brought the empty bottles, napkins and paper sack back inside, Chet couldn't help giving one more look around the yard. Before they left, Chet took a can of the catfood he'd brought, scooped it out onto a plate, left it on the back steps, and removed the uneaten hotdog from earlier. He sighed, wishing he could tell Mike that all was well with his pal.
Over at Mary and Gus's, Mary was unpacking all the things she had purchased for Sir Pain, then went to retrieve her newly acquired houseguest. The cat, having napped for hours in the flower bed, was ready to go in search of food. His quest was rudely interrupted by a well-meaning Mary scooping him up in her arms and toting him inside her house.
Sir Pain was not usually aggressive, but still he squirmed and wiggled, trying to escape Mary's grasp. All the windows were closed, not allowing any of the exciting smells from outside that Sir Pain usually loved. The quiet hum of the air conditioner in one window eliminated all the sounds of birds and people which usually kept Sir Pain's attention. Mary and Gus's house smelled too sweet- like flowers and laundry soap. Mary plopped Sir Pain on the top of the washer and proceeded to thoroughly brush his coat of any tangles, real or imagined, all the while cooing and fussing over "the poor little thing". She picked up each paw and cleaned his nails, she inspected his teeth and delivered the final insult when she lifted his tail to see if he'd been "fixed."
Mary then tied a red ribbon around Sir Pain's neck. "Fire-Engine Red, of course!" she peeped, "My, what a handsome fellow you are!"
She stepped back for a moment to admire her work and Sir Pain took that opportunity to jump from the washer and run for cover. His claws skidded over the linoleum in the kitchen as he tried in vain to gain footing on the slippery surface. He careened into the living room and dove behind the sofa. The fuzzy green carpet was long and shaggy and his claws stuck in it when he tried to walk, so there he stayed, contemplating his escape. Hours passed as Mary tempted him with toys, a dish of goose-liver pate' and bowls of cream, but Sir Pain would not be swayed. He was determined to stay there until Mary gave up and left him alone. She fretted to her husband that Sir Pain would be lonely back there or perhaps starve, but Gus assured her the cat would do nothing of the sort.
"Leave him be for a while, Mary, and he'll come out on his own," Gus promised.
Mary pouted and turned to leave, deciding to sit in the overstuffed chair to watch for Sir Pain's escape. The night wore on and Mary had taken a few small breaks for dinner and to change into her night-clothes. Still, she always returned and sat there in her house coat, with her hair in big pink rollers, and pretended to read a magazine. Eventually, Gus went to bed and Mary fell asleep in the chair, snoring softly. Sir Pain peeked out from his hiding place and lapped at the cream and only nibbled at the unfamiliar pate', keeping his eyes alert for any movement from the nearby chair.
Mary yawned loudly and shifted in the chair, causing Sir Pain to scoot back behind the sofa. Finally it seemed she was asleep for the night and Sir Pain decided to venture out. His claws caught on the carpet as he padded his way to the kitchen. He hopped from cabinet to windowsill, pawing and meowing, desperate to get out. Gus heard him crying and got up to investigate. Sir Pain crouched behind the backdoor. Gus walked sleepily around the house, quietly calling for Sir Pain and trying not to wake Mary. The rain had started again and Gus decided that while he was up, he'd better bring the chair cushions in from the patio. That was exactly the break Sir Pain needed, and he darted between Gus' legs and out the door. Gus yelped at feeling the cat slither against his ankles and was too distracted to stop Sir Pain's escape.
Sir Pain dashed outside and ran down the sidewalk in the rain, with only one destination in mind: his favorite human's house. Like a kitty super hero, he leaped up and over Mike's fence and dashed across the lawn to the garage door. He stopped for a moment, sniffing the air. He spied the plate of kitty food Chet had left for him on the steps and quickly gobbled it up. The back door to the garage was still a bit ajar, so he pushed it open and went inside. Soaking wet, he sniffed around, detecting the scents of Chet and Marco, but not of Mike. Looking up, he noticed the window of Mike's truck was open, and jumped up and in. Here was a familiar scent! Sir Pain spent awhile cleaning himself, which included tearing at the red ribbon. Once he succeeded in getting it from around his neck, he curled up on the front seat and went to sleep.
The next day, the remaining members of Station 51 reported to work and Stoker, Stanley and Gage all worked on getting out of their beds. Each man was moved out of the ICU and to a regular room on the second floor, as their injuries were no longer deemed life-threatening. Stoker had an appointment in physical therapy to check his balance again, and if all was well, he would be allowed to go home in another 24 hours. His call to his sister had gone better than he hoped, with Jeannie promising to call their mom and do a little 'refining' of the recent events to keep her from panicking. Mike smiled as he hung up and knew Jeannie would do everything in her power to put a positive spin on things for him.
Johnny groaned loudly as Doctor Brackett and two nurses helped him sit up on the side of the bed. It was the first time he'd been upright since he was brought in to Rampart and 'dizzy' didn't come close to how he felt. Fortunately (or not) he had been assigned a couple of veteran nurses who were not at all Johnny's 'type' so he felt no pressure to keep smiling. Dr. Brackett observed Johnny for a few moments, his smile curling up on one side. He palpitated the knee which was still hot and swollen, and the ankle which was much less so.
"I think it should still be a day or so before we try to get you on your feet, Johnny," Brackett told him. "That knee is still pretty tender. The ankle looks better, though. How's the pain in your ribs?"
"Hmm, not sho bad, Doc," Johnny reported through puffy lips. "I can handle it."
"Good, good, let someone know if it starts to get ahead of you, though. Do you think you could manage some soft foods for breakfast? I imagine you're getting tired of that IV."
Johnny considered how much his split lips hurt, but still decided to try. "Maybe a milkshake or shomethin'? I don't know how much chewin' I can do yet."
"That'll be fine for now, Johnny. Let's see how you do and maybe we'll take the IV nutrients away later today."
Johnny nodded agreement and looked to the nurses. "Um, you think I could maybe lie down again? Sittin' up is really over-rated right now."
Brackett smiled and let Johnny lie back down. "I'll be back to check on you after breakfast, Johnny."
Cap, meanwhile, was being pushed around the halls in a wheelchair by his wife. The rain had stopped, but the grounds were still too wet to venture outside. His wound was healing well, and Doctor Ramsey had said that once the stitches were removed, Cap could start physical therapy. That was still a week or more away though, and Cap was already getting anxious about leaving the hospital. He desperately wanted to forget this and go back to work. "Soon," everyone reassured him, "soon."
