For the next few months, Johnny was forced to stay at Rampart on the orthopedic floor. Daily therapy became a routine and not just physical therapy, but also talk therapy with Doctor Brackett. John wasn't sure which was worse. Some days it was the physical, some days it was trying to explain why, even months after the last time he injured himself purposefully, he still craved the feeling, despite hating it as well.
As the days crawled past, it seemed to Johnny he would never be released, but finally, four months after the incident, he was allowed to go home. He still would need to come back daily to strength his muscles and improve on his dexterity with his one arm, but at least he was free.
Unfortunately, it seemed that despite the reprieve the city of Carson had gotten from the father/son arsonist, this tag team had been planning for Johnny's arrival home. As soon as he walked in his front door, he found all of his furniture slashed, clothing cutting up, toiletries punctured with holes large enough that the bottles were empty and the liquid was everywhere in the bathroom. All of the dishes were smashed into pieces, pictures were ripped by hand into tiny pieces, books torn apart. The TV, stereo, and microwave were gone. The oven had been dismantled, pieces tossed about. The carpeting in the living room and bedroom was ripped up in places as well. The walls had holes, stains, and graphic graffiti on them. Nothing was untouched.
Shocked by the state of everything, Johnny simply closed the door and hobbled down the apartment steps on his crutches. Unsure what to do, he sat down on the picnic table underneath a tree in the courtyard. All he could think of was the pictures which he could never replace; the few of his parents and grandparents. Losing those pictures and the couple items left over from his childhood made him feel as though a rock had landed in his stomach, then was covered with cement. Now those precious items were gone, all because he choose to speak up and place guilt where it belonged.
Anger began bubbling up, replacing the sadness quickly. Knowing the monsters had chosen to defile his home, choose to hurt him this way made him determine to do something to stop them.
And the first thing I can do is stop sitting on my butt feeling sorry for myself! John raged at himself. Go across the street, call the police, then call Captain, he can help figure something out.
Doing just that, the police and Captain Stanley were both there within ten minutes. Seeing the mess, his Captain whistled in disbelief.
"I know Joanne had cleaned everything up about two weeks ago, maybe a week and a half," Hank told John and the officers. "So, it had to be after that this happened."
"Means they were likely watching the place," Officer Callen offered up to his partner Officer Bleak.
"Most likely," he concurred. "You two wait out here while we go through here, see if we can find anything."
"Fine with me," Johnny said, more than happy to ignore the damage for as long as possible.
"Would it be alright if I take him home?" Hank asked. "He just got out of the hospital and I doubt his doctor wants him up and about, not to mention stress."
"I'll be fine Cap," John insisted. "I just figured you would know what to do."
"Yeah, and I know Brackett doesn't want you to over exert yourself on the first day out of the hospital," he retorted starring Johnny down.
Glancing at one another, the two officers nodded at each other.
"You went through here already, right?" Callen asked.
"Just enough to see the rooms all were a mess," John admitted. "I don't think I touched anything, other than the front door."
"Did you notice anything missing?"
"Just the TV, stereo, and microwave," he told him.
"Would you know the make and model?" Bleak wondered.
"I had them in my file, but I think it's destroyed," Johnny admitted, sounding depressed and on edge.
"We have your Captain's address and number, why don't you go with him. If we have any questions or anything, we'll stop by or call. It'll be a couple days at least before you can get back here," one of the officers told him, stepping into the apartment and ignoring their presence.
Nodding, Johnny sighed and made his way down again. Once in Hank's truck, he leaned back, closed his eyes and mumbled, "This is the shittest day I've had in a while."
Ignoring him, Hank just took him home, unable to think of anything to comfort his youngest crew member.