AN: This may be triggering for self-injuries. Please use caution while reading. I used my own experiences in battling this issue for the last 19 years (2 ½ years safe!) to write this.
Waking up, Johnny rolled over to look at his clock. The brown eyes widened when they registered that five hours had passed…the most he had slept at once. There were still the horrific echoes that played while he slept, although of which attempted rescue Johnny couldn't figure out. Too many rescues had ended in failure over the last month.
I still can't believe things could get so bad so fast or last so long. I don't remember headquarters ever requiring an incoming shift to report an hour early so that the Captain could lead a "debriefing" about any concerns firefighters might have about the upcoming shift. Shaking his head a little in disbelief, John sighed as deep as he could without disturbing his healing cracked ribs. I do know that the Chiefs have asked incoming shifts to report early so the outgoing shift has time to gather and vent about a difficult or troublesome shift, but to make it mandatory, well, I doubt that's ever happened before. I know from what I heard no one else has heard of it either. And on top of that, overtime is rarely granted with all the stuff going on.
Breathing harder, memories began washing over Johnny. Memories of Station 51 A shift coming up to a swollen river where a bus full of teens and adults were trapped inside. Only their company had been called out as the caller said only a car went over; by the time more help had arrived, more than half of the bus was under water. Watching the sinking yellow vehicle submerge into the churning, muddy waters as kids and adults alike pounded and screamed for help shook everyone on the scene. As fast as they worked, it was slow going to open the bus. By the time the K12 cut a hole in the roof, most of the people were standing or sitting on top of the seats to avoid the water. Each member of the Station 51 crew knew that time was running out and so Captain Stanley had ordered Station 36 to stay near to shore as the bus was knocking anyone near it around. He feared that any more workers would just be the tipping point and cause a greater shift, sending the bus into the water and allowing no one else to escape its clutches. Despite working as fast as they could and eventually having 4 squads on the scene eventually, only fourteen out of the twenty teens and five of the eleven adults were saved. A couple of those who were rescued had various spinal injuries. Since they had been hauled up without spinal precautions in an effort to save their lives.
Remembering how some of the people had screamed at him when he went to check on them, Johnny began hyperventilating. In his heart, John knew the people were just taking their anger out on one of the easier targets; despite knowing this, it still hurt to be accused of carelessness or hearing people wanting to know why he didn't let them die during the bus accident. Having had talked things out with not only the department psychologist, then the crew before talking things over with Roy personally had helped every other nightmare run or arsonist call they got. However, he was able to get back in the squad and work through any lingering doubt or concern he had about his job. Now, stuck on the injury list, with nothing to do but listen to his own thoughts, Johnny felt himself spinning out of control.
If only these stupid thoughts would stop attacking me! He moaned as he grabbed his head. Why can't I just stop thinking about things? I've dealt with everything the best I could and I know I did the best I could. I know that this was just a weird time…heck, if there's one thing we as firefighters and paramedics can count on is that there are going to be times where things are chaotic and no matter what we do, things don't go our way, but eventually things settle down. It's just that this time, it lasted longer than usual…A LOT longer!
Sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Johnny felt the sharp pain bite into him as he moved his rib cage the right way.
Dang, that should hurt, he wondered as he did it again and found the same results. Why in the heck does that feel so good?
Feeling his breathing and pulse rate drop as quickly as it would if he had been given a sedative, Johnny's eyes widen.
The pain is making me refocus! Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes. Okay Gage, even that is nuts for you. It's a good thing the shrink thought you didn't need to see him for any additional sessions, he'd lock you up! You can't think this way! Knock it off, now!
Still, despite these thoughts, the panic and anxiety Johnny was feeling from the memories that haunted him begged him for some sort of reprieve. Going to the bathroom, he grabbed his razor and studied it.
If accidental pain helps, wonder what would happen if I did it myself? Johnny pondered. I definitely don't want anyone seeing it, or if they do, they gotta think it is an accident. Can't cut my arm, too many veins, way too obvious. Leg is out seeing as there is a cast. Stomach, hmmm, now there's a thought. I could hide it with my boxers…
Drawing the doubled blade razor across his stomach near his groin, Johnny nearly groaned in relief. There was a quick flash of pain, followed by what he could only describe as pure ecstasy. His whole body trembled as he saw a blinding white intensity and a liquid within himself filled his body with warmth and peace. Without realizing it, the razor dropped from boneless hands as tears flowed freely. Sliding quickly down the wall, he closed his eyes as his mind empty of all thoughts, taking all the anxiety and fears with it.