"Matty!" Rita's plump arms reached for Johnny like a child reaches for its mother.
Johnny gave a tired smile and bent to kiss his aunt on the cheek as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Good morning, Auntie."
Rita beamed up at him and spoke swiftly in her native language. Johnny stared into her dark brown eyes. Something had changed in them, she looked almost like an innocent child being punished for a misdeed he had no recollection of.
"What is she saying, Gage?" Andrews sat down opposite Rita and clasped his hands on the table in front of him.
"She's wondering when she can go home."
Andrews sucked in a deep breath and raised his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Ariwite. I can't answer that. That's up to you."
Rita stared at the evaluator accusingly, pursing her lips into a thin straight line. For the first time since her arrest, she spoke English. "On the contrary, sir. My son and I have done nothing wrong. We both have lives that we must get back to immediately. Matthew is a firefighter."
Johnny felt his heart sinking. "Auntie, my name is John." He knelt beside his aunt's chair and placed a hand on her arm.
Rita laughed and patted his hand. "Silly boy, always trying to play tricks!"
"Rita," Johnny stood again and sat on the table facing Rita. "I am not Mattew. I am Johnny." He patted himself on the chest and then reached for the envelope in front of Andrews.
He hesitated as his fingers brushed the top flap. What demons would this envelope release? Was healing his wounds worth the price of reopening Rita's?
"Matty?" Rita's face was contorted in confusion.
Johnny pulled in a deep breath and removed the stack of photos. "Auntie," He laid the first photo, one of a happy family with a newborn child, on the table in front of his aunt. "This is Matty." He pointed to the baby.
Silence was deafening as Rita sat motionless, staring at the picture. Johnny laid another picture down, and then another and another.
"Do you remember, Auntie? This is your Matty."
Rita traced the man's face in the photos. "Lemhi," She whispered his name so softly.
Johnny looked to Andrews for direction. Andrews nodded, signalling him to continue so he continued to lay the pictures on a pile until he reached the grisly end of the stack.
His dear aunt studied each picture with intensity, a soft smile gracing her wrinkled face as if she was remembering things long forgotten. She looked happy, like she was back there with them. Johnny wished so dearly that he could preserve this feeling for her.
Rita turned to him, pointing to the child in the snapshot. "This is my Matty!" She exclaimed. "You were a fat baby," She chuckled to herself.
Leaning forward towards his aunt, Johnny asked gently, "Rita, I'm not Matty. Do you remember what happened to Matty?"
Rita seemed to ignore him so he glanced back at Andrews again, who nodded in approval.
Johnny found the picture of the burned out house and laid it on top of the stack. "Do you remember, Rita?"
The joy on Rita's face vanished and John could see the storm clouds gathering as she looked at the picture. "No," she whispered and then repeated it louder. She aggressively shoved the pictures away from her.
Johnny looked to Bill Andrews. He still held the gruesome pictures of the remains in his hand but Johnny knew that he wouldn't be able to find it within himself to place them on the table.
Andrews seemed to sense this and snatched the pictures from Johnny's hand.
"Rita, do you remember this?" Andrews slapped the pictures down on the table with a 'thump'. "Your son died in a fire. Your husband died with him. December of 1946."
Johnny looked away. He couldn't watch his aunt's reaction.
"Do you remember?!" Andrews demanded.
Rita was still, seeming not even to breath as her eyes took in the sight of the bodies. Suddenly she let out a primal screech, and instantly Johnny knew. That was the sound of a mother discovering that her child was dead. He had heard it before and every time it haunted his dreams. He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb as his aunt's cries assaulted his heart. This had been his mother thirteen years ago when she had to accept the loss of her baby. Had the grief been worse for his mother because she had no body to bury? Did she ever wonder from time to time what had truly become of her youngest child?
Rita flung herself to the floor. "No, no, no, no. Not my Matty. Not my Lemhi. No, no," Her body shook uncontrollably.
Johnny pulled himself together and knelt down on the floor beside Rita. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. "Auntie, I'm so sorry." He stroked her hair and rocked her gently as she cried into his chest.
"They're dead, John. They're dead, they're dead." She whimpered.
"Shhhh," Johnny whispered to her. "I know, I know."
"Nephew," Rita lifted her tear-streaked face and put a pudgy hand on Johnny's cheek. "I'm sorry,"
Johnny could see now that the fog had lifted from her mind and her eyes were clear, at least for now. The start of his shift was fast approaching and he knew that he needed to get on the road if he wasn't going to be late but he didn't want to leave. He helped Rita to her feet and guided her back to her chair.
"Listen, I gotta go to work, okay? But I'll check in on you, okay?" He kissed her forehead and slipped out the door before his aunt could give any response.
Andrews followed him out. "I'll call you with any information we get. Thanks for all your help, Gage. I think that that really did help."
"Yeah, sure thing," Johnny muttered.
E!
Roy was exiting the lockers when Johnny's car came steaming into the parking lot behind the station, screeching to a jarring halt. Roy waited at the door to greet his partner but when he saw the scowl on Johnny's face he thought better of it and gave his moody partner a wide berth, dodging to the kitchen for some coffee.
Roy noticed that Johnny secluded himself to the locker room until roll call and even after, he disappeared back in the bunk room. He thought it best just to let his partner mull through whatever was going on for now, so he let Johnny alone. They would have plenty of time to talk privately later.
It was a busy morning for the LAcoFD. The tones kept going off as more and more calls came in but Station 51 was lucky enough to be able to finish breakfast.
"Engine 13, Engine 110, structure fire. 117 Butterfly Boulevard, 117 Butterfly Boulevard."
"Aww man!" Chet whined. "That sounds like a good one!"
"You know what else sounds good? Eating an entire breakfast for once!" Marco said as he smothered a piece of toast in warm butter. "Don't jinx it, Chet!"
"Yeah, yeah," The curly-headed firefighter reached for the orange juice and filled his cup. "Just sayin' it would be nice to see some real action instead of a dumpster fire or a kid stuck in a treehouse or somethin'. Gets real old after a while."
Action for the squad came twenty minutes later.
"Squad 51, man down, 117 Butterfly Boulevard, 117 Butterfly Boulevard."
"Uh-oh." Roy mumbled as he set his coffee cup down on the table. "Still sound like fun now, Chet?"
When he reached the squad, Johnny was already ready and waiting. "This can't be good," his partner mumbled as they pulled out of the bay and onto the street.
When they arrived on the scene, the structure was still fully involved and five or six police cruisers were at the scene.
The officers directed them to where they were needed. As they pulled into the middle of the fray, the pair was motioned to where the captain and a cop stood side by side facing the inferno.
After grabbing the drug box, Roy ran to the captain's side. "What happened?"
The captain turned to the cop. "Can you handle this? I've gotta call for more men. This beast is kicking our butt!" He jumped to his feet with his HT and ran to his men's sides and helped them with the hoses until more manpower arrived.
"What happened?" Roy questioned again.
"Somebody rigged that place full of booby-traps. Whoever it was was trying to keep people out, for sure. Tony McCallan and Paul Williams were the first ones in. Fell right through the floorboards into the basement. Basement had sharpened metal tie rods fastened to the floor. They're working on bringing Tony out now."
"Geez, sounds like something from Vietnam!" Johnny exclaimed. "What about Williams?"
The officer shook his head, indicating that the second firefighter hadn't made it. "Look, here they come!" He pointed to four firefighters emerging from the smoke and flames, each gripping a limb of the injured man.
"Get back! Get back! She's about to go! She's gonna go!" One of the men shouted as they ran from the fire.
The groaning of wood and steel immediately sent the men on the hoses scrambling backwards for cover as the building caved in on itself, sending a massive flurry of sparks and smoke spiralling upwards as heat belched from the belly of the beast.
Roy saw blood dripping from the injured man's coat as the four hustled to get him to the paramedics.
"Easy, nice and easy!" Johnny stepped in to grab McCallan's helmet and steady the man's head as he was lowered into the wet pavement. As Roy set up the biophone to establish a connection with Rampart and opened the drugbox as Johnny unsnapped Tony's turnout coat.
"Roy," Johnny said, and when Roy glanced over, he saw his partner's 'it's not good' face. Tony McCallan had been impaled on the tie-rods in multiple places. Blood spurted from his thigh, no doubt a perforated femoral artery, the turnout coat beneath the man was quickly pooling full of blood from an injury on his back, but what was most jarring was the sight of Tony's stomach; he had been eviscerated. His intestines piled in the crimson puddle in his coat.
"Johnny," Tony McCallan's blood stained fingers gripped Johnny's arm. "Am...am...am I gonna…" He gasped for breath as blood bubbled from the corners of his mouth.
"Take it easy, Tony. We got you now, you're gonna be fine."
"P-p-paul? Where?" He tried to pick up his head from the ground.
"Hey, hey, just worry about yourself right now."
Tony moaned, "Oh," His strength tired and he relaxed back to the ground again. "Gone...man…I hurt so...bad,"
The pair worked quickly to cut off all the sources of bleeding that they could find while Roy spoke with Rampart and Johnny comforted a semi-conscious McCallan. It seemed like an eternity until the ambulance arrived.
Roy could hear in Doctor Brackett's voice on the other end of the line that the situation was grave. Roy had seen plenty of trauma in his years as a paramedic and he was not hopeful that Tony McCallan would arrive at the hospital alive; there was just too much blood on the pavement and not enough in his body to sustain life.
The orderlies assisted in transferring the dying man from the ground onto the stretcher.
"I'll ride in," Roy threw the biophone on the seat and began to hoist himself up.
Two firefighters from McCallan's station appeared at the back of the ambulance. One of them asked, "Where should I tell his wife to meet you?"
Roy looked into the sweat and soot stained face of the weathered firefighter. "Rampart General,"
"How's he doing?"
"Umm," Roy hesitated for a second and glanced back at his patient. "Honestly?"
"Honestly,"
"You might want to have somebody drive her in."
The firefighter's face fell. "Oh,"
E!
Roy slid into the squad, slammed the door and sighed as his body welcomed the chance to relax. His partner was leaning against the window, glowering deeply.
"Junior, are you okay?"
"No, Roy. I'm not okay. We just watched one of our own bleed to death in front of us." Johnny snapped. "And for what? An abandoned warehouse? Three kids just lost their father! A wife lost her husband! A mother just lost her son..." He caught himself and trailed off.
Roy exhaled slowly. "How's Rita?"
Johnny chewed on his lip for a second. "I don't know. I really don't. Last night she didn't recognize me; kept calling me Matty. Come to find out that she had a son named Matthew who died in a fire before I was even born. So this morning I ran over there with some pictures." He shook his head and dropped his chin. "It was like she was finding out all over again, like she had forgotten or something."
Roy didn't know what to say that would be comforting to his friend. "Sounds like something out of a movie," he mumbled.
"Tell me about it," Johnny scoffed.
Silence dominated the remainder of the trip back to the station. The two dejected paramedics dragged themselves back into the kitchen where they hoped lunch was being prepared. Sure enough, Chet Kelly had donned an apron and was mixing up lord-knows-what.
"Hey fellas! Just in time! Chef Kelly's Surprise Smorgasbord coming up!"
Johnny moaned and threw himself into a chair. "We should've stopped for burgers, Roy."
"Say, Gage. Your sister sure does make some darn good cookies!" Kelly leaned on the counter and propped his spatula arm on his hip.
"What do you mean? She stopped in here?"
"Yeah, about 30 minutes ago. Mike's giving her a tour right now."
Johnny lifted an eyebrow suspiciously. "That's an awful long tour…"
Footsteps cut him off as Marco Lopez entered the room. "Guess what!" Not giving the men time to answer, he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "Jessica's got Mike cornered in the locker room tryin' to kiss on him."
"She's what?!" Johnny's eyes burned with a brotherly anger as he leapt to his feet, headed for the lockers when Cap, emerging from his office, blocked the doorway.
"Phone call, John. Somebody by the name of Bill Andrews."
Johnny looked torn between interrupting his sister's romanticizing and what he knew was an important conversation. "Gahhhh," He growled as he took a step in each direction before running for the office.
E!
Jessica Gage sat on the locker room bench, carefully studying Mike Stoker. He had one foot propped up on the bench to tie his shoe. She admired the way the veins in his arms rippled under his tan skin as he adeptly manipulated the shoe strings. His face was still flushed with embarrassment from a few moments before.
When they had entered the locker room, he had held the door for her, as any gentleman would, she noted. Unbeknownst to her, Chet had just finished mopping the floor before starting lunch and her heels had slipped out from under her on the slick floor. She had let out a little screech and flailed for something solid but before she could hit the floor, she had found herself in the arms of Michael Stoker, who looked just as surprised as she was.
Their eyes had locked for a few seconds before he gently set her on her feet and smiled shyly at her. "Sorry 'bout that,"
She had smiled back at him, still gripping his forearms tightly. "Thank you, Mike," This close to him, she could smell his subtle cologne; earthy, masculine...tempting. Before she knew what she was doing, she had leaned in close and planted a kiss on his lips. She could feel his body tense for a second but he didn't pull away.
Behind them, she heard the door from the bunk room swing open. Mike dropped her like a hot potato and took a step back.
Jess had twisted around to see who was there. Marco stood in the doorway, staring at them both dumbfoundedly before slowly backing out the door again.
"Everybody's gonna know." Mike had offered in a monotone voice.
"Is that a bad thing?" Jessica grinned at the bashful firefighter.
"Well I'm never gonna hear the end of it." He bent to tie his shoe.
She sat there, admiring his handsome figure until he finished with this footwear and straightened again.
"Well," He shrugged, "Might as well face the music," He once again held the door for her as she exited the room. "Watch your step," He joked as she passed.
Jess shot him a heart-stopping smile and waited for him to lead her back to the kitchen. When they entered the room, Mike stopped inside the door and leaned casually on the little shelf under the rotary phones. Jess seated herself gracefully on the black leather couch across the room. The room was awkwardly quiet as Mike squirmed where he stood.
As Marco lifted a coffee mug to his lips, he raised his eyebrows at Mike, who shot him a withering glare. As Chet stirred his concoction, he asked slyly, "So Jessica, how was the tour?"
Jess grinned sweetly. "You guys got some pretty far out stuff around here,"
"Oh yeah? Well now that the squad's back I'd be happy to show you all the equipment that's on there!" Chet offered enthusiastically.
Roy glanced up from reading the daily paper. "Nothing special really, just a bunch of medical supplies and the like," He smirked to himself when he heard a disapproving hiss from Chet.
A dejected looking Johnny Gage dragged himself into the kitchen. "Jess? Can I talk to you?" He jabbed a finger over his shoulder, signalling that he wanted a private conversation. When Jess nodded and stood, he slipped out the door into the apparatus bay.
As Jess moved towards the door, she and Mike made eye contact but he quickly dropped his gaze back to the floor. As she slipped behind him, Mike felt a sharp nip on his behind. Naturally, he jumped before he realized what had happened. Feeling his cheeks start to burn, he glanced around the room at his comrades, hoping nobody had seen.
Marco was smirking at him and Chet stood at the stove in his frilly apron, with a narrow-eyed face of envy. Roy rolled his eyes and flipped to the next page of the paper.
E!
Johnny inclined himself on the hood of his Land Rover, arms crossed over his chest. He glanced down at his shirt, noting that it was still stained with Tony McCallan's blood. Gotta change before we go on another run, he reminded himself.
Alerted by the sharp staccato of Jess's heels against the pavement, he looked up to watch his sister approach.
"What's up?" Jess also leaned against the vehicle.
Johnny sighed deeply. "I got a call from the police. Auntie Rita is finally talking." Only after I completely destroyed her life,
"What's she saying?"
Johnny started at the beginning, explaining his aunt's mental distress, the discovery of the pictures of Matty and Lemhi, and his aunt's reaction.
"The psychiatric evaluator said that from what he can piece together, she found me in the creek, almost drowned, and took me home. She's not right in the head, Jess. Something flipped in her brain. Andrews said that she didn't say anything about why she decided to take me with her but he thinks that she just longed for a child so bad that her brain was willing to deny the fact that I wasn't hers. She had nothing left for her in Wind River so she left for LA. I guess she told herself that it was our family that died in a fire, not hers. She believed it for so long that it became reality. And when I showed her those pictures it destroyed her reality."
Jess shook her head in confusion. "It just doesn't make sense!"
"I know," Johnny agreed. "But a sick mind isn't a rational mind." He sighed deeply and locked gazes with his sister.
She also sighed. "So what's next?"
Johnny shrugged. "A psychiatric hospital, probably."
"No, I meant for us...for you."
Johnny shrugged again. "I guess I go back home." It felt weird to say 'home'. Was it even his home anymore? "Did you call Mama and Daddy yet?"
Jess took a long pause. "Not yet." When he gave her a sideways look, she whined, "I know, Johnny. It's just...I don't know..." She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "I don't know."
Johnny was quiet for a while as he contemplated things. "When you go back home, can I come with you Jess?"
It was Jessica's turn to quietly think for a second. "I don't know when I'm going back, Johnny. Wind River isn't my home anymore." When she saw the confused look on his face, she added, "When I was a little girl I dreamed of growing up and settling down with a good man and raising babies on the ranch, near Mama and Daddy. And I was going to have that future with Mikey... but when he died, that dream died with him. There's just too many memories there. Sure, I'll go back to visit but I'll never live there again." She met Johnny's troubled brown eyes. "But I really dig LA so far. I was thinking about maybe looking for an apartment here. I think Mama would like for me to live near you...keep you out of trouble."
"Mama doesn't even know I'm alive, Jess," Johnny scoffed. "I hear that you dig something else in LA too...maybe a certain engineer?"
Jess punched her brother's arm playfully. "Did Marco spill the beans?"
"There are no secrets in this firehouse, sis." Johnny smiled. Jess rolled her eyes and began to walk back into the kitchen. Johnny called after her, "Jess," She stopped and turned. "Mike Stoker is a good man. Don't break his heart."
After tolerating Chet's mystery meal, Jess announced that she should be going and collected her things to leave. She had a gaggle of followers trail her from the kitchen and into the bay.
"You can bring cookies anytime, Jessica! They were delicious!" Chet said as Jess bid her goodbyes.
"I'll be around, don't you worry," the dark-haired beauty smirked as she waved farewell over her shoulder.
As she sauntered through the parking lot, the brisk breeze tugged at the hem of her mini-skirt, teasing the firefighters with the possibility of a glimpse of a rear end.
"Ohhh," Chet crinkled his nose, "just a litttllleee higher!"
Johnny's head shot up indignation. He ripped his hands out of his pockets and landed a solid but somewhat friendly punch on Chet's shoulder. "That's my sister!"
Mike leaned against the garage door rail, admiring the scenery as the new keeper of his heart strolled away. He knew that that girl was pulling him in faster than Chet Kelly could roll hose.