"No!" Johnny yelled. "You just don't get it, do you?" he asked, taking another sip.

Captain Stanley flinched as the beer bottle hit the far wall, smashing into little pieces.

"It's all my fault," Johnny whispered, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

Stanley crouched down in front of Johnny. He stayed silent for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. Usually, Roy was the one there for Johnny in moments like this. Roy always knew what to say to Johnny. He was his best friend. His partner. Or, he used to be.

"John. Listen to me," he started. "It's not your fault. No matter what you think, there was nothing you could have done," he tried to reason.

"Oh, God!" Johnny sobbed. "He was reaching out to me. He was begging for me to help him! And all I could do was watch him die!" he cried, banging his head against the wall.

"John-," Stanley started.

"What the hell kind of paramedic am I when I couldn't even save his life?!" he shouted, voice full of self-hatred.

"You're one of the best paramedics in the county. One who tried his damnedest to save a life. But you know what? Even the best doctors around here wouldn't have been able to do more," Stanley admonished. "You did the best you could with what you had. That's all you can ever do. You can't save everybody. Lord knows, I wish that weren't true, especially today. But it's not your fault!"

"Then whose is it?" Johnny countered. "God's?" he asked, sarcastically.

"John, listen to me, will ya, pal?" Stanley implored. "Nobody could have predicted what happened today. It was a brand new building. Walls aren't supposed to just fall down in brand new buildings," he said. "They aren't supposed to fall down onto parked squads," he added quietly.

"It should have been me. He always drives the squad," Johnny spoke. "But today I insisted. I insisted! I had to have my little power trip and drive the Goddamned squad!" he screamed, pounding his fists to the floor.

Finally, Hank Stanley couldn't keep his own grief inside anymore.

"And what about the rest of us? Huh? Do you think it was any easier on us? We had to watch too!" he shouted, looking directly into Johnny's eyes. "Is it Marco's fault because he couldn't get the jaws out quick enough? Is it Chet's fault because he wasn't strong enough to move all the bricks? Is it Mike's fault for parking the rig too far away? Huh? Or is it my fault for sending you on this call to begin with?" he questioned. "We're feeling just as bad as you do, John. We're all hurting inside," he said in a low voice, grabbing at his chest for emphasis. "But no one person is at fault for that accident today. No one person can be at fault for a fellow fireman's death," he said, his own voice cracking.

Johnny tried to cover his face with his hands. He tried to control his crying. Tried to hide his tears.

"John, his injuries were just too severe," Stanley said softly.

"But why him?" Johnny asked. "God, it should have been me. I don't have a wife or kids to take care of!" he sobbed.

"Maybe not today," Stanley countered. "Maybe someday you will. Maybe that's the plan, John. Maybe you were spared today for a reason," he added.

"Don't get religious on me, Cap," Johnny warned. "I don't need to hear any 'God's will' crap right now."

"Okay, don't call it 'God's will.' Call it fate. Call it karma. Call it LIFE," Stanley reasoned, taking Johnny by the shoulders.

Johnny looked at him closely. Looked into his eyes. He saw his Captain's grief mirroring his own. Johnny realized how selfish he had been.

"Oh, God, Cap," he cried. "I don't know what I'm gonna do."

Stanley sat on the floor next to him. He put his arm around Johnny's shoulders and held him.

"Come on, pal. Closing time," he said, standing up and offering Johnny his hand. "I'll take you home."

"I'll do that," Roy said, entering the bar.

He and Stanley exchanged sorrowful looks.

"Sorry I couldn't get here sooner. We had a couple of calls late in the shift," he said, taking Johnny's arm and pulling it over his shoulder.

"It's okay, Roy," Stanley replied. "I'm glad you're here, though. He's not handling this too well," he added, gesturing to Johnny, now slumped between the two of them.

"Not too many people are," Roy said as he and Stanley walked Johnny out to Roy's car. "We're pretty shook up over at 14 as well."

"You sure you don't mind coming here then?" Stanley asked.

"Of course not, Cap. When Chet called and told me what happened, I knew how he'd react," Roy replied.

"Johnny's really missed you since you transferred. He and Bob were just starting to really click together, just like you two did," Stanley mused sadly.

Johnny started crying again at the mention of Bob's name. Roy buckled him into the front seat of his car and closed the door.

"You going to be okay with him?" Stanley asked.

"Yeah, sure. And Joanne knows what's going on. I'll stay with him at his place tonight," Roy said, opening the driver's door.

"Thanks again for coming, Roy," Stanley said, shaking Roy's hand.

"Any time, Cap. Give the guys my regards," he said. "Good night, Cap," he added.

"Good night, Cap, to you too," Stanley replied, pride in his voice.

Hank Stanley headed to his own car. He got in and sat behind the wheel. He took a deep breath and let it out. Bob Morgewicz was a good man. He had fit in well at Station 51 after Roy got promoted and got his own station to command. Stanley let his own tears flow now. It was going to be a long time before things got back to normal.

Author's note - Okay, raise your hands. How many of you actually thought I had the audacity to kill off Roy? Fooled ya!