Fragile

Chapter 29

Help could not arrive fast enough for Johnny. Peering down at his fallen partner from his perch on the third floor, Johnny observed powerlessly as Roy lost consciousness. Johnny glanced around desperately seeking some means for climbing down to Roy. But there was no way he'd get to his partner from his current vantage point. Frustrated, Johnny paced impatiently as he waited.

After what seemed an eternity to Johnny, Chet and Marco having taken the snorkel truck express to the third floor appeared behind Johnny on the third floor landing. They had brought ropes and safety belts along with a stokes, backboard, cervical collar and paramedic gear. The trios of men from 51's were joined by three guys from 36's, and Johnny was lowered down to where Roy lay.

Marco followed Johnny down. Together the two men packaged Roy, and hauled his unconscious form up in the stokes to the third floor landing. After Johnny and Marco were pulled up, four of the men with Johnny supervising carried Roy to the waiting cherry picker of truck 127 where Johnny and Roy were lowered to the pavement below. When the basket arrived on the ground, two men from Mayfair were already on scene. Roy's stokes was swiftly removed from truck 127, and placed on a gurney before being whisked off to the waiting ambulance. Johnny grabbed the drug box and Biophone and jogged over intending to hop into the back of the ambulance with Roy.

Hank Stanley met Johnny at the rear of the ambulance. A large hand landed comfortingly on Johnny's shoulder, and big brown eyes glanced up to peer into the Captains concerned gaze.

"How's he doin'?" Stanley quarried glancing in Roy's direction.

"Looks like he has a simple tib/fib fracture just above the ankle, possible fractured wrists, at least two fractured ribs and a possible pneumothorax. Right now he's unconscious." Johnny reported glumly while he stuffed equipment into the floor of the ambulance.

Stanley nodded his understanding and reassuringly squeezed his fingers gently into Johnny's shoulder. "All right John. You better get going. Take good care of our man, and keep us posted on how he's doing. I'll send Chet over with the squad in a few minutes."

Guilt ridden and dejected brown eyes connected again with Stanley's solid gaze. "I'll do it Cap." Johnny softly replied; and he climbed into the ambulance.

Stanley nodded at Johnny before closing the ambulance doors. The self flagellation and perceived culpability were written clearly all over his youngest medic. From the slumping of those slender shoulders, to the somber brown eyes, Johnny wore his distress like a scarlet letter for all to see. Hank knew he'd need to sit Johnny down before this whole ordeal was over. The protective and close nature of Roy and Johnny's friendship often caused whichever one was left standing in an injury scenario to somehow blame himself for not being able to avoid the situation. In such a close knit relationship, by hook or by crook it seemed only natural for Johnny to feel responsible for his partner's injuries. But as Hank had learned, in this line of work a man could only do what he could do. Sometimes events were beyond anyone's control. As bad as it felt when a friend was injured, beating oneself up over the 'what ifs' could drag a man down into an unrealistic and unrecoverable funk. Hank vowed he wouldn't let it get that far with Johnny.

Silently resolving to watch out for Johnny, and with a solemn shake of his dark head, Hank gave the ambulance doors the all clear double tap, and then turned and walked away from the rapidly retreating ambulance. He would take care of this situation later. Right now Hank's first responsibility was to complete the task of clearing this fire scene.


Inside the ambulance Johnny tended to Roy. After taking another set of vitals and checking the drip rate on the I.V. bag that was crazily swinging from the hook on the ceiling, Johnny sat silently staring at Roy. Roy's respirations were shallow and rapid. The oxygen flowing through the non-re-breather mask had seemed to help at first, but Johnny realized Roy needed to reach the hospital soon so this chest could be decompressed. Not for the first time, Johnny silently lamented the fact that though he as a paramedic had received training in needle decompression, by law L.A. paramedics were not yet authorized to practice the technique. Peering out the ambulance side window, Johnny willed the driver to move faster. If left too long, Roy's probable pneumothorax could be fatal!

Johnny sighed heavily and reached out a gentle hand to check Roy's pulse. Solemn brown eyes regarded Roy. "Hang in there partner. We're almost there." Johnny softly murmured. He realized Roy probably couldn't hear him, but somehow talking to his partner brought some measure of comfort for Johnny anyway.

The ride to Rampart was a rough one. George, the Mayfair EMT who was driving today knew both of these paramedics. When loading the ambulance, Johnny Gage's concern for Roy's condition had been easily readable on the young medic's face. George realized by the younger medic's demeanor every second counted, and judiciously applied a fair amount of lead to his foot to spur the ambulance onward.

For his part, Johnny was vaguely aware this trip to Rampart was likely far more expeditious than many he'd taken. As the large rescue vehicle careened around corners at a break-neck speed, Johnny held onto to the overhead grab bar, and silently thanked George for his race car driver aspirations.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Johnny finally felt the ambulance stop, and back up to the emergency ambulance bay. Gratefully he closed up his equipment, and readied himself to hustle Roy from the vehicle into the waiting hands of the Rampart medical staff.

The back doors of the ambulance were hastily opened, and the two Mayfair men hurriedly slid Roy's stretcher from the vehicle. Johnny hopped down from the truck just behind the gurney, and everyone quickly moved into the building where they were met by Dixie and Dr. Brackett.

"In 3." Dixie ordered while taking up the rapid pace of the incoming group, and actually beating them to the door of the treatment room.

"How's he doing?" Kel Brackett inquired of Johnny while they walked alongside the cot as it was wheeled into exam 3.

"Respirations rapid and shallow and he is now slightly cyanotic." Johnny grimly reported.

Brackett gently reached up and squeezed Johnny's shoulder. "We'll take care of that right now." He said.

Brackett turned to Dixie and requested equipment for a needle chest decompression. Johnny and the Mayfair EMT's efficiently transferred Roy from the stokes, onto the exam table.

As soon as the backboard landed on the exam table, Dr. Brackett was ready to perform the procedure to improve Roy's respiration. With practiced efficiency Dixie exposed and swabbed the appropriate area, and Brackett performed the needle decompression. A sudden rush of air, and Roy's respiration began to even out and deepen.

With obvious relief, Johnny snatched his stethoscope from around his neck, fitted it into his ears and quickly began to obtain a blood pressure. There seemed to be an almost instant improvement in Roy's pressure, and Johnny happily relayed the numbers to the people around him. Johnny next obtained a respiration and pulse, and smiled with relief.

"That's more like it!" Johnny said.

Glancing down at Roy whose complexion was rapidly pinking up Johnny laid a gentle hand on Roy's arm and murmured, "Way to go partner. Hang in there. Doc's gonna fix you right up."

Brackett smiled warmly and nodded. "That I am." He replied, and turned to Betty, the nurse at his side, and began to order x-rays and lab work.

Dixie put a gentle yet firm hand on Johnny's shoulder, and smoothly led him toward the door of the exam room. "Let's you and me go get a cup of coffee, and let these people work." She kindly said.

Reluctant to leave Roy, Johnny opened his mouth to protest. But when brown eyes met sapphire, Johnny knew there would be no arguing with Dixie. Johnny gave a heavy defeated sigh, and once more looked longingly back toward Roy.

Dixie smiled warmly and began to guide him out of the room. "You know we'll take good care of him, and we'll keep you posted on his progress." She soothed.

Defeated, Johnny's shoulders slumped and he allowed Dixie to lead him from the room. When the pair exited exam three, they met up with the technician wheeling in the portable x-ray unit. Dixie walked Johnny over to the nurses' station, and poured him a cup of coffee. Johnny glumly leaned on the counter, obviously fretting.

Dixie handed Johnny the steaming mug, and placed a comforting hand on his arm. He accepted the mug, but didn't raise his head to look at Dixie.

Squeezing his arm, Dixie quietly questioned, "You all right Johnny?"

"I let him fall Dix. I let him fall." Johnny quietly confessed while allowing the steaming coffee cup to thud onto the counter. His anguish was apparent.

Sculpted brows rose questioningly. "Really?" Dixie inquired a note of blatant disbelief easily detectable in her voice.

Johnny raised his head to meet her gaze. Dixie's face clearly reflected her distrust in what he'd said.

Dixie crossed her arms over her chest and held Johnny's eyes captive with hers. Her lips turned down at the corners indicating her displeasure. "John Gage! I don't believe for an instant you intentionally let Roy fall."

The ferocity of Dixie's reaction brought the somewhat dazed Johnny back more solidly to the moment. "Uh….no…uh….I….." he stammered helplessly. "Th that's not what I meant." He blurted.

Dixie nodded with satisfaction. "All right then, why don't you tell me what you did mean." She calmly commanded.

Johnny stopped leaning on the counter and stood upright to meet her eyes. "Oh, well…uh…we had put the fire out in this three story building. We were climbing these stairs to do overhaul….ya know? Roy warned me the stairs were unstable, and they were…." He stopped speaking, lost in remembrance. Slender fingers nervously trailed through thick sable locks. His mind's eye unbidden replayed the scene. He saw the stairs beginning to fall, felt the remembered intensity of his own effort to grab Roy.

"Johnny?" Dixie's voice drew him from his own private hell.

His unfocused brown eyes seemed to return to her from far away then. "Oh, sorry…" He said with a slight shake of his head. "….anyway, I heard the sound of the stairs beginning to go just after I reached the landing….I turned and dove for Roy. I caught his fingers with mine….and…" He trailed off, the agony of his recollections clearly visible in his eyes.

"You caught his fingers?" Dixie said flatly. "Johnny, you tried…probably slowed his fall some when your fingers caught. But there was no way you could have held on to only his fingers. Sometimes things happen and despite our best efforts we can't change them."

Johnny was shaking his head now, as if to deny knowing what Dixie was saying. "…but Dix…I had him. …I let him fall…." He lamely protested.

Dixie's mouth formed a thin line of displeasure. "John Gage, you listen to me. You are NOT Superman. Roy slipping out of your grasp was not your fault! You stop this guilt trip right this instant." She chided in a firm no nonsense voice indicating she expected to be heard and obeyed.

Dixie's tone of voice caught Johnny's attention, and his mind began to focus on her message. Dixie was not someone a guy wanted to make angry. She was tough and smart. Maybe if she felt this strongly about what Johnny had told her, perhaps he needed to reconsider.

Johnny's mind tried to wrap itself around meaning drawn from Dixie's strong response. It really did. But treacherous thoughts strayed from Dixie's words and began whirling. Recriminations abounded inside his psyche. He thought: 'But I did let Roy fall. If I could have just held on to Roy long enough, Roy wouldn't have gotten hurt. One more second and I'd have been able to grab his other hand and…..'

Shooting pain seared through Johnny's ribs. "Ouch!" He exclaimed as he realized Dixie had sharply elbowed him in the ribs. Stepping away from her in surprise, brown eyes looked down into sapphire and he exclaimed, "Hey! Why'd ya do that? That hurt!"

"You weren't listening to me, and I thought that perhaps if you really needed to beat yourself up you might be able to use a little help from me." Dixie offered deliberately.

Jarred back to the present moment, Johnny couldn't help but smile at Dixie's absolutely unrepentant facial expression. He sighed heavily, allowing his gaze to drop to his shoes. "All right, all right….I know you're right. It's just….."

"I am right." Dixie interrupted him. "Now stop obsessing over the 'what if's.' It'll make you crazy. Lord knows, we don't need you slipping closer to that edge. You already teeter on the precipice as it is." She remarked stepping away from him and taking her seat behind the counter.

Johnny gasped in indignation. "Hey! Whad'ya mean by that?" He protested.

Dixie didn't respond. She simply smiled slyly. Her two favorite paramedics did seem to carry such an over-exaggerated sense of responsibility for one another that it often caused them to unnecessarily drown in misguided guilt when one of them was injured. She felt her jibe had accomplished her goal by putting Johnny slightly on the defensive, and there by re-directed his thoughts away from any perceived culpability toward self protection.

Dixie graced Johnny with a sweet smile, and nodded her head in satisfaction. "That's better Johnny. I think my work here is done now. Sometimes accidents happen, and you have to simply accept you can't control everything. Glad I could help you see the light."

Johnny rubbed his injured ribs where she had nudged him. "See the light?" He questioned with a single raised brow. "More like feel the pain of reality is what I'm thinkin'."

Just as the conversation reached this stalemate, Kel Brackett stepped out of the treatment room and walked toward Johnny and Dixie. Johnny was standing with his back to the physician, but Dixie saw Kel coming and raised questioning brows to him.

"So?" She said, looking over Johnny's shoulder toward the doctor. "How's our boy?"

Hearing Brackett's voice behind him, Johnny turned inquisitive eyes toward him.

"He's actually doing o.k. His oxygen saturation is coming up nicely since we got that lung re-inflated, and his vitals have stabilized." Brackett replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke.

"And…?" Johnny prompted.

Brackett sighed. "Well, his ankle fracture looks to be clean, and those wrists are simply sprained. We put in a chest tube to take care of the pneumothorax, and it looks like he also has a couple of broken ribs from the fall. The fall and subsequent fractured ribs are probably what caused the pneumothorax, but we'll keep an eye on him for the next few days to make sure everything is all right. He's coming around, if you want to go in and see him before we send him up to the cast room to have that ankle set." Dr. Brackett concluded placing a reassuring hand on Johnny's back.

Johnny's shoulders sagged and he exhaled a weary sigh of relief. Raising his eyes to again meet Brackett's, he smiled weakly at the physician and nodded. "Yeah, thanks Doc." He said before stepping toward treatment three.

Johnny stopped mid stride, and turned back to look at Dixie. "Oh, hey….could you call JoAnne for me Dix? In the rush I completely….."

Dixie raised a manicured hand to stop him. "Don't worry about it Johnny. I'll call her. You were a little busy you know." She said before shooing him toward the treatment room with a wave of her hand.

A lopsided grin appeared on Johnny's face, and he turned and pushed the door open to enter the treatment room.