Chapter 8
That's where Roy found him an hour later when he and Chet returned to the station. After shedding their turnout coats in the garage, Chet headed for his bunk while Roy made his way into the dimly lit room. He noticed that the light was on over the range as well as the small, cylinder shaped light over the station phones. Walking carefully, he was able to put all his weight on his injured ankle and he smiled slightly that it had ended so well.
Spying his partner hanging halfway off the couch, cocooned in a blanket, he believed the younger man was asleep. Roy let his smile expand and headed for the refrigerator for something to drink. After pouring himself a tall glass of milk and downing it in thirsty gulps, he headed for the door. He stopped when he saw movement from the couch.
"Hey Johnny…can't sleep, huh?" He asked him, pulling a chair over and dropping wearily into it.
"Nah…how's the ankle?" Gage replied, swinging his left leg down to the floor to join the other leg already there, and shifting his upper body to face Roy. He rested his elbows on his knees and propped his head up on his hands.
"Just twisted it, doesn't feel too bad…Brackett cleared me to finish the shift."
Gage couldn't keep the brief flash of dislike from his expression, and the tone of his voice when he replied was sharp and biting. "Bracket, huh? He must live at the hospital. Did he improve on his bedside manner at all?"
"John….." Roy sighed softly, wondering just how much to disclose of his awkward conversation with the equally stubborn doctor. Probably better to say nothing at all, especially considering the strange look his partner was leveling on him. Roy looked a little closer at the other man, finally registering in his own exhausted state, even in the low illumination of the room, Johnny's flushed cheeks and sunken eyes.
"John, what's going on with you?" He asked gently, slightly startled at the unexpected flood of concern that was flowing through him as he stared at Gage. He leaned forward and laid the back of his hand against the warm forehead. Fever for sure…gulping guilty, he ran his hands down his partner's strangely still and non-resisting forearms, trying and failing to find any of the normally protruding veins that lined his arms. Funny how only now he remembered the tightly zippered jacket, the covers pulled up to Gage's chin, the sweat running down his face, all obvious signs of….
"Fever…dehydration, nausea?" He offered up lamely, fingers automatically sliding back up the braced arm to the pulse point on his wrist.
"Uhmm…yeah," Johnny finally admitted quietly and glanced down at the sleeve of crackers lying by his socked foot; the three or four crackers he'd scarfed down during his short attack of munchies were lying like chunks of lead in his churning stomach. Probably shouldn't have drank that water, but he knew he had to rehydrate. Damned if you do, damned if you don't, he reflected sardonically. And what was going on with Roy? Lots of unforeseen worry in his partner's voice, he wasn't clear if he should be irritated by the obvious concern or file it away for future consideration when his reasoning and emotions weren't so muddled. It seemed that there was going to be a lot of pros and cons piling up, working at this Mayberry like station. For sure, though, he needed to derail this personal pity train he was riding on before DeSoto joined him.
Clearing his throat, John dropped his arms and straightened up, then leaned back and closed his eyes. "Just the flu, ok? Try to do a favor, ya know, and end up with…"
He trailed off as he realized Roy was already gone, in the kitchen and running water into a pot and placing it on the stove. He registered briefly the feel of a cool cloth on his forehead and another on the back of his neck, his partner's hands pressing them against his fevered skin and then replacing his hands with his own. He heard the sound of footsteps retreating into the apparatus bay, muffled sound of a squad door opening and closing, then the return of the feet to his side.
"Open," his partner's voice commanded softly, and Gage reluctantly opened his eyes to see exactly what it was Roy wanted to open.
"Oh," his muttered acknowledgement had the desired response as a thermometer was pushed into his mouth and he was told, no, ordered, to leave it there. As his eyes fluttered closed again, DeSoto levered to his feet and bustled back to the stove, doing something with the hot water and a mug.
He felt a hand on his chest and he reluctantly peeled his eyes open again as his efficient and somewhat fussing partner pushed him fully back against the couch and settled a mug into his right hand, relieving him of the now not so cool cloth against his forehead. The thermometer disappeared and he gratefully lifted up the mug and held the steaming vessel up to his face, breathing in the hot steam. He took his other hand down from the back of his neck, dropping the rag next to the neglected saltines, and steadied the mug with both hands.
"102, pretty high. When did you take aspirin last?" Johnny snorted softly, wondering what Roy would say if he knew that his temperature had been at least a degree higher, or more, before he had sucked down that powdery fever reducer earlier.
Roy moved his gaze from the mercury rod in his hand and focused in on his silent partner. His mouth opened slightly as he took in the sight of John, long legs now drawn up under him in, what did his son Chris call it, crisscross applesauce? The blanket from his bed was now up over his head and fell over his shoulders; Johnny's dark eyes gazed at him in puzzlement, mug gripped tightly in both hands just under his chin as he studiously ignored the thin wisps of steam that drifted upwards over his face. Just like smoke from a campfire, Roy thought, and put a headband around that black head of hair…the high cheekbones, the skin that tanned so easily…..now a couple of those offhand comments the younger man had offered up, albeit grudgingly, made sense now when the men had been discussing kids and their home environments…"I think how I grew up, Roy, was a lot different than your childhood" and "sometimes the poverty, the absolute lack of hope for the future, can really bring a kid down, you know?"
Roy dropped carefully into the chair behind him as he finally put the pieces together and realized that his new partner, his Indian partner, had most likely grown up on a reservation. Had there been a "race" box on the application that Gage had filled out? If so, Roy had never noticed what box had been checked; the only thing he had been interested in on those forms was the experience, length of service, and the reason why these the men wanted to join the fledgling program. Maybe that explained John's "reluctance", to quote Brackett, about being on the receiving end of treatment, and some of the other quirky things that he had observed Johnny doing? Roy had heard about life on the reservations, the lack of medical care, the poor conditions, but he had never witnessed any of it firsthand.
"A couple of hours ago," Johnny replied finally to the question, carefully taking a sip of the sugar laced tea. Shivering in reaction to the warmth, he took a bigger gulp, relishing the heat and the taste. He frowned at Roy, who was staring at him with an odd look on his face. "What, did I grow horns or something?"
Roy shook himself, both mentally and physically, like a thoroughly wet dog and blew out his breath in an explosive sigh. "No, sorry, just a mental breakdown, or maybe just sheer exhaustion, not really sure." He paused, but couldn't help himself. "Did you….ahhhhh….where did you grow up, Johnny?"
It was John's turn to stare at his partner. His eyes narrowed and his mouth thinned, in disappointment maybe? He shifted back imperceptibly away from Roy, the movement so finely orchestrated that Roy wouldn't have caught it if he hadn't moved his gaze to the edges of the blanket and caught the fluttering backwards shift of the material; he was no longer able to look Johnny in the eyes.
"Why?" John asked his tone so quiet that DeSoto reluctantly forced his eyes away from the material and met the other man's piercing gaze. "What kind of question is that at three in the morning?"
"I don't know, really. It's just that, well, you look….I thought…." Roy cleared his throat, feeling like the worst kind of fool. He couldn't remember the last time he was this flustered, or so inarticulate, especially within the work environment. Johnny obviously thought so too; Roy was relieved to see a smile beginning a slow climb up the corners of his mouth.
Leaning down, Johnny picked up the crackers and twisted a couple out of the plastic sleeve. He set the mug down in the space between his still crossed legs and thoughtfully turned one of the salty, white squares between his fingers. "I lived on an Indian reservation, Roy, until I was fourteen or fifteen, or around there. And before you let your imagination run away with you – I DID NOT live in a tepee or wear a loincloth!"
Gage paused, softening his comment with a further upward tilt of his lips when he saw the flustered look on his partner's face, correctly interpreting the expression as regret for starting the conversation. "Sorry, couldn't help it. I usually reserve that comeback for buttinskis that have no reason to ask personal questions. But since we're partners and all…." He stopped again, staring at the cracker he was still rotating back and forth, the smile sliding away and a pensive look flitting across his face.
Roy remained silent, speculating just how much more information John was going to volunteer. He seemed to be considering something, what to say or how to say it, maybe? Or was he fabricating a whopper of a story just to play into the stereotype that he apparently was so used to hearing? Cowboys and Indians, that sort of thing…. Would Johnny even believe Roy if he told him he hadn't even realized until this very moment that he was Indian, or part Indian? He wondered if he was proud of his heritage, or embarrassed by it. It seemed more than likely that it was just something that was never referred to unless brought up by someone else.
Roy winced as he realized he, of course, was the one that had brought the topic up. Here was his unsuspecting partner, sick, sore as hell from that last OT shift, and probably still a little buzzed, trying to relax and unwind. And here comes big, bad Roy, shooting his mouth off and asking personal questions in the middle of the night without any warning. No wonder that tepee comment had shot out of Gage's mouth. Roy surmised that little blurb had surprised Johnny just as much as himself; he was pretty sure John hadn't meant to blurt that out. It revealed too much of his past and even where his current thoughts were now dwelling… both things, from Roy's observations so far, that his partner seemed to clutch protectively within the seemingly impregnable wall around him.
The halted, awkward conversation began to move again, maybe carefully worded, but still revealing, at least to Roy's way of thinking. Hesitant and shy, at first, the trickled words that came from Johnny began to gain momentum and flow steadily once he realized Roy was listening.
"It was okay, living on the rez, probably not exactly the same as how you grew up." He paused, and then continued with a soft sigh. "There weren't a lot of opportunities or choices, but hey, what did I know? I was a kid; the only thing I cared about was making sure I fed my face and had something to sleep under when it rained. Man that was something, ya know? No baths, no shoes, and adults that stayed out of sight, most of the time anyway…..When we were younger, we ran wild all summer long…of course, as teenagers, we pretty much did the same thing, only you added the girls, the cigarettes, and whatever else that we could get our hands on, to the mix...that was pretty, well, incredible."
The troubled expression that had drifted over the dark haired man's features was now replaced with a thoughtful, wistful appearance. He relaxed slightly and deftly rolled the conversation ball back into Roy's lane. "Where did YOU grow up, since we seem to be playing some kind of twenty question game?"
"Close to here, Norwalk. Joanne and I pretty much grew up together; we've known each other since grade school." Roy paused, distracted by the crunching sound of saltines finally being chewed. "Do you still have family, uh, living on the reservation?"
Johnny swallowed the cracker with obvious effort and washed it down with a sip of tea. He pulled the blanket from his shoulders and let it settle down behind him before answering, bowing his head and staring back down at the mug, seemingly mesmerized by the contents. "Some cousins, uncles, aunts, that kind of thing. You?"
"Yeah, parents, and two sisters still live in the hometown." Roy noticed that Johnny made no mention of his immediate family, but judging by the younger man's body language the conversation that had begun to smoothly roll along was ended. He watched him slowly nibble at the second cracker and wondered if he would be able to keep it down. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen him eat anything all day. Great observation skills, Roy thought wryly, cursing himself. Supposed to be a hot shot paramedic and didn't even notice any of Gage's flu like symptoms. Bracket was right, though, Johnny seemed to be pretty tight lipped about his physical state. Although, he had been about to tell him something earlier, maybe….
"What were you going to tell me back at the squad, before Cap interrupted us?" He queried, forcibly squashing his guilt back into the hole it had wormed out of.
"Dunno," his partner softly replied, lifting his head back up, that same tiny smile reappearing and playing at the corners of his mouth before being drowned in another large swallow of tea. "Lots of things going through my mind at the time…I'm sure not all of them were logical or even relevant to what was going on."
"Might have had something to do with that hallucinogenic drug swirling around your head…or that crack on your head that I clearly heard when you did your backward dance against the door of that van. " Roy teased, a relieved smile shadowing his own face.
"Yeah, well, ok….." Johnny conceded, an array of emotions flitting across his face so fast that Roy wasn't sure if he had seen the doubt that had appeared briefly.
"Johnny…" Roy spoke hesitantly, trying to choose words to fit his jumbled thoughts, words that wouldn't anger or alienate his obviously sensitive partner. "You, ah, ok to finish the shift? I mean…"
"Flu, Roy, just the flu, ok? I'd be the first one to let you know if I can't do my job, all right? And..." With obvious effort, John bit back whatever else he was going to say and lapsed into silence, dropping his head and staring down at the now empty mug still cradled in his hands.
"I know that, John, I absolutely trust your judgment." He replied carefully, trying to keep his tone easy, with no hesitancy. Definitely no more personal questions to stir the turmoil that seemed to be again darkly brewing in the other man's head. "You've had two back to back hard shifts…I'm just concerned." It was time to let the volley of words end. He did trust this man's decisions, and if he said that he was good to go, then he was.
Roy stood up and held out his hand to his brooding partner. "Going to catch a nap, are you coming?"
"Yeah, sure," John replied after a long moment; it looked like he was waging an internal battle. He apparently came to a positive decision as he took the proffered help and unfolded to his feet. "Any of that hot water left?"
"Enough for another cup, easily," Roy replied, sweeping his chair back to where it belonged. He grabbed the mug from John's hand and returned to the kitchen. While he made another cup of tea, Johnny swept up the items on the floor with one hand and joined Roy in the kitchen area, dragging his blanket carelessly behind him with his other hand.
Turning around from the stove, the images of tepees and campfires slid soundlessly out of Roy's thoughts as his eyes tracked the progress of the blanket sliding across the reasonably clean floor. It was replaced with vivid pictures of that little kid forever drawing his blanket behind him in that comic strip….. Good God, either he was incredibly exhausted, or he was having some kind of way delayed reaction to that pot smoke.
He was shaken out of his musings by his partner bumping him gently and removing the mug from his hand. Johnny looked at him, his dark eyes glittering slightly, but the pupils now thankfully normal. Roy could feel the heat radiating off him, however, and had to make a conscious effort to keep his fist clenched at his side and not raise his hand to feel John's forehead again.
"Thanks, Roy," John said softly, raising up the mug in an acknowledgement of his words. "I feel better…I really appreciate this, ya know?"
Roy gave his partner a careful nudge towards the door. "Not a problem, gave me a chance to practice my paramedic skills." On you, again, he added to himself, biting his lip as he recalled trying to check his partner earlier and being brushed aside.
Gage snorted but obligingly headed for the bay. "More like your father skills…or maybe an old dog can learn new skills? I bet you've watched your wife taking care of your kids, or maybe fussing over you, and you retained some of that?"
"You calling me old, Gage?" Roy bantered back, enjoying the unexpected word play. The dark haired man shot Roy a crooked grin; DeSoto watched as he pulled up the slightly mangled blanket and wadded it under his arm before picking up his shoes. He skirted around the grill of the still dripping squad and headed across the front of the bay towards the dorm.
Roy followed, the swishing sound of his wet bunker pants sounding loud in the cavernous area. He detoured to the locker room, washing his face, brushing his teeth, and taking care of personal business. He grabbed a clean pair of socks from his locker before stumbling wearily to his bunk, the events of the shift settling into his bones. He was pleasantly startled to see two pillows lying at the foot of his bed; his partner must have dropped them there for him to prop up his ankle.
He peered into the mug that Johnny had placed on the brick window ledge between their beds; he was pleased that Gage had managed to drain most of the mug dry. Yeah, he was definitely in father mode thinking along those lines, just like John had said. He wondered why he felt slightly protective, and so damn guilty, about this guy; there probably were only a couple of years separating them in age. Maybe it was because Gage looked like he belonged in school instead of pulling hoses and rappelling off cliffs; or maybe it was that he sometimes exuded an air of innocence and charming naivety that the women sure seemed to notice. Then again, it sometimes seemed that the kid carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and the dark eyes reflected an old soul dwelling deep within. Roy had seen that look in Vietnam, and was sure that if he looked in the mirror after a nightmare he would see the same torment in his own blue eyes. Every man carried secrets that might never see the light of day, or had witnessed or carried out actions best left undisclosed…..
Either way, it was an odd sensation to feel almost parental concern for someone he worked with, and not one that Roy had ever experienced before, especially not with the several partners he had had before Gage came along. Of course they had been older, and he had always been the junior rescue partner. Even on the truck, he had been the youngest lineman. So now it was his turn to be the senior partner and assume the responsibility. Maybe this was how it felt to have a younger brother? His sisters were both older and had never needed his protection, more like the other way around. And the guilt thing, that was probably going to go hand in hand with his new job title of paramedic. There were bound to be moments of second guessing; it just happened that Johnny Gage was his first "I can't believe I didn't notice that" occasion.
Feeling better that he was now able to identify, conveniently catalogue, and tidily shelve his self-reproach and worry , Roy rose up on his toes to get a better look at his partner, wary about stepping closer; he didn't want to take the chance of interrupting his needed slumber. Gage SEEMED to be asleep, his breathing deep and steady, his features relaxed. He was laying on his right side again, but this time the covers were only drawn partway up his body; his left arm was out of the blanket and loosely draped over his eyes. Roy winced at the bruising that was already beginning to change color, clearly evident, even in the lowlight, on his arm and the side of his face that was visible. Even as he watched, Johnny rolled over onto his back and slung his left arm up over his face, a curious habit that Roy had noticed before. Maybe something to do with blocking out the light from the stupidly placed windows in their dorm, or maybe a thing from his childhood that had followed him right into adulthood.
Roy slowly shrugged out of his suspenders and slid his bunkers down and stepped out of them, lining them up by the bunk. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he switched out his socks. He grabbed the pillows and worked them under the sheet and blanket to the bottom of the bunk. He then dropped onto his back, drawing his legs up and under the covers, dropping the ankle down onto the elevated foam. Carefully he twisted over onto his stomach, settling his face into the pillow with a relieved sigh. Finally…..maybe some sleep, or more like a nap, to start off the new day. He considered the previous hours, glad that the unusually hot day had turned into a welcoming, wet, and considerably cooler evening. Could have done without the mud, however; he was pretty sure that there was some of it dried in places on his body that he didn't want to even think about.
It had definitely been a busy shift for the squad. He was thankful that they had managed to squeeze in a couple of meals, even though his partner hadn't seemed to have taken advantage of it. Roy wondered how John could perform his job so seemingly effortlessly, when he apparently had been fighting off the flu for most of the day. If he had been hanging upside down in that tree, Roy was pretty sure he would have been spewing his guts up. Definitely would have lost it being in that confined, smoky space with those two hippies…that had just seemed to put Gage in a silly, albeit slightly high, mood. Except for that very strange shift several weeks ago that had involved multiple animal calls, Roy hadn't seen his new partner act quite so, well, young. He was usually extremely focused and very intense in his actions and his conversations; Roy had to admit that was one of the reasons he had considered and then had ultimately asked him to join him at this new station. He admired that dedication in Johnny, and after several enlightening conversations with the crew over at 10's, knew that the other man could be fiercely loyal with his shift mates and friends.
Letting his mind drift to where it wanted to float, the medic mused about the other men of the station, unaware that his thoughts were following the path that Johnny had tread earlier. Really need to get to know these guys better, have a barbecue or something….invite their families, let the single men bring a date…wonder if the cap would show up….Wait though, would JoAnne go for it? He tried to remember if she had met all the guys yet.
Yes, no, okay, maybe not the captain yet. Definitely had met the rest of the crew, Johnny of course being the first at that birthday party Dix had hosted for him. Oh boy, that was right. His spitfire of a wife had told Brackett exactly what she was thinking, and then his suddenly talkative partner had made that wise crack comment of his own. For some reason, though, John's caustic words had rubbed Jo the wrong way, even though her own remarks had been almost equally rude; maybe because she had been more diplomatic in the way she phrased them, in her mind anyway. Whatever the argument, Roy knew that his wife wasn't exactly wild about his new partner. He needed to work on that problem, had planned on it in fact but just hadn't had the time to work out the details. Maybe a barbecue would be a great way to start….. His thoughts began to blur together as all of his anxieties resolved themselves and ebbed slowly away…He closed his eyes, finally heading towards, hopefully, several hours of dreamless, uninterrupted slumber before the wake up tones sounded.
~TBC~
