Warnings: original character death, some strong language.
This is a bit of a longer chapter again. I gotta say, updating this fic on Monday sure makes my Mondays better. Monday seems to be 'servers-call-out' day at the Applebee's I work at, so the last three (including today) have been pretty nuts. Knowing I have this to do gets me through the day 3
The phone rang in the early afternoon in late June, swiftly answered by Mike.
"Stoker? This is ol' Bobby Starrett," the voice on the other end drawled.
"Bobby Lee Starrett! Holy- how've you been, man? I haven't heard from you in… wow, I think it's been a year or two, at least. I came to 51s a little over two years ago, left 69s finally."
"It's about time. You were there damn near your whole career. About time ya got a 'lil change in your life, boy. Wanted t'give ya a call, Stoker, seein' as how I'm transferrin' over to 45s as their B-shift captain. Know it's a 'lil closer to y'all's station."
"Yeah, our territories kinda overlap sometimes, and we get called out on some of the same calls together. So you took Capt. Johnston's spot, then? I heard he was retiring. Got the time in his for pension."
"Yup. Well, you know I'se workin' in about the same area as Topanga Canyon, over in Malibu an' places like that. Went to 68s in Calabasas for a while. Anyway, heard about Johnston retirin', and me and the wife thought we might like a change of scenery for a bit, get more into the city. Plenty of museums and stuff for her and the kids to visit, go to the movies or the theatre, closer to hospitals, stuff like that. Said we can always go back to the country."
"That's very true. You start soon, Bobby?" Mike queried.
"Next week. They're givin' us plenty a' time to move while Johnston finishes his last month. We're all set up here 'round Lakewood, an' I got this whole week free before I start at 45s."
"Really? Y'know, we should do somethin', like have dinner or go fishin' or do somethin' like that."
"Why don't you come 'round our place for dinner, Mike? I know Maggie and the kids would love to see ya again, used to see 'em all the time, remember?" Bobby offered, "When're ya off next?"
"Uh… the day after next. Wednesday."
"Perfect. Got a 'lil lady you wanna bring along?"
"Nope. I actually room with one of the guys from my station, Marco Lopez. Sure saves money on rent and gas."
Bobby hummed in agreement and said, "Well, you're not gettin' any younger, Mike, boy. Time's passin' for you to get yourself a pretty 'lil wife and some kids. Anyway, we'll expect ya around six on Wednesday. That alright?"
"Sure is. Tell Maggie and the kids I can't wait to see 'em."
"I certainly will. I know they feel the same."
Marco walked up just as Mike hung up the phone, asking, "Who was that, cariño?"
"Oh, that was Bobby Lee Starrett. He was the first engineer I ever worked with back at 69s. He's about ten years older than me… taught me everything I know, really. Last I knew, he was at 68s, but I guess he's takin' over Capt. Johnston's B-shift at 45s. Just moved into the area, so he invited me to dinner with his family," Mike explained, "We used to be pretty close, actually. I was like an uncle to his kids, but we kinda drifted apart when I left 69s for 51s. I never knew why… wish it hadn't happened."
"You were that close?"
"Absolutely. We were like family, really. Their son, Len, was born deaf, so I helped them out figuring out where to find deaf resources, somewhere to learn sign language, got them to visit with my family so he would he would have deaf adults to talk to. He ended up going to a school for the deaf, too. We were like a little support network for them. I miss that."
"That makes sense. You used to be close, and then it's gone. That's never fun."
"No… no, it isn't," Mike mused quietly, chuckled, said, "You'd like ol' Bobby Lee, I think. He's a funny guy. Bobby's a-a big, burly teddy bear. Strong as an ox but wouldn't hurt a fly- okay, well, he does like to hunt, but he only gets what his family can eat and fills up his freezer, so that's different. He's from Virginia, originally, so that's what he's used to, hunting for his food. He's a nice guy, though, genuinely nice, really likes everyone. I'm sure you'll meet him once he starts at 45s. Maybe we can all have dinner at my parents'…"
"He sounds like a good guy, a good friend. I'd like to meet him."
"You will, and I know you'll get along. I just know it. Oh, I'll be goin' to his place for dinner on Wednesday. Dinner's at six, so I'll probably leave around four-thirty or so… just to get there in time."
Marco hummed in response but said nothing. I get the distinct impression he's not 100% pleased with my plans, but that's too bad. Mike had honestly been excited when he's heard Bobby's drawl on the other end of the line. So many times he'd intended to call his old mentor over their last two years without contact, but somehow things always came up that distracted him. He was sure Len and Ellie had grown plenty in those two years, Len probably a foot taller now as he was approaching thirteen. And Ellie must be nearly outta high school by now. It was amazing how time flew by.
If Marco was truly upset with him, he didn't show it for the rest of Monday or all day Tuesday at work, so Mike simply assumed he wasn't upset. Him being upset would be ridiculous, after all. Bobby wasn't some old flame or someone Mike was interested in. He was a married man, and Mike was more than happy in his relationship with Marco. Mike loved Bobby, certainly, but loved him as family, loved the Starretts as if they were his own blood.
The Starretts lived now in a little three-bedroom house that looked like the American Dream, white picket fence and all.
"Papa!" he heard Ellie call as he walked up to the front door, "Papa, Uncle Mike's here!"
He saw a blur of color and barely had time to brace himself before he was almost knocked down by Ellie launching herself at him.
"Uncle Mike! It's so good to see you again!" she chirped, "It's been ages!"
"Ellen Louise, you git back in here and let Mike come in the house. You're not the only one wants t'see him. C'mon, now, git back in here. Len wants t'see him, too, now…"
Maggie looked essentially unchanged, her red hair pulled back. Ellie was the spitting image of her mother, round-faced, freckled, and seventeen, neither thin nor fat.
"Mike, darlin', we're so happy to see you again. I've no idea how that communication breakdown happened so easily, but it's no matter now. You must tell me how you're parents are doin'. Are they well? And your sister an' her girls?"
"Everyone's fine, Maggie. They're wonderful. How about here?"
"Oh, we're finer'n frog hair. Ellie's lookin' to go to college soon."
Ellie explained proudly, "I'm gonna go to CalTech and become an astrophysicist and work for NASA!"
"I know you will, Ellie. You're the smartest person I've ever known. If anyone can do it, you can," Mike told her, smiling, "Now, where's Len? Surprised he's not waiting for me…"
"He was playin' a card game," Ellie said, "I'll go get him."
He watched her long red hair disappear around the corner, then asked Maggie, "How's Len been?"
"Oh, he's been alright. Twelve years old now. He plays basketball with some of the boys at his deaf school, does well in class, started lookin' at pretty girls. He's at that age, y'know. It's nice, though, livin' here. It's much closer to his deaf school, a much easier commute for me. I'se always the one takin' him, after all."
Mike was almost knocked down again. He looked down at the weight that wrapped around his middle. Like his sister, Len's face was round and freckled, though his hair was a lighter strawberry-blond in opposition to Maggie and Ellie's fiery red. He was already fairly tall for his age and beginning to fill out, looking more suited to football than basketball. Len stepped back and brought his hands up, signing excitedly, -Uncle Mike! It's been forever! I missed you!-
-I know it has. I've missed you, too. I heard you play ball. Do you have fun?-
-Yes, but I wish I could play football. There's no deaf team, though, and it's hard to play with a hearing team. They forget I'm deaf, and I got tackled pretty good once. Almost knocked me out.-
"And then Mama told him not to play anymore," Ellie said, signing also, "at least not with them. Said he needs a deaf team to play with so everyone knows how to communicate."
-That makes sense,- Mike replied to Len, -It's much safer for everyone. You won't need paramedics to come treat you when you get your block knocked off.-
A voice behind them boomed, "Mike Stoker! As I live an' breathe!" and Mike turned, pulled into a quick but crushing hug.
"Bobby Lee, it's sure good to see you again. You don't even look any different."
It was true, as if two years hadn't passed. Bobby Lee Starrett was still larger than life, a burly blond man taller even than Mike, his nose a little flatter than average, his eyes the same warm brown Mike remembered.
"Nonsense. You're just tryin' to butter me up, Mikey. I feel like an ol' workhorse, and I know I must look like one, too. Now, you're the one who ain't changed in two years. Boy, ya still look like a twig."
"Next to you, plenty of people look like twigs."
"Ain't that the truth. C'mon, Mikey, let's get to talkin'…"
Mike couldn't believe two years had gone by when it felt as if nothing had changed. Conversations went the same as they always did, a mix of spoken and sign language and plenty of laughter. Ellie got off on a tangent about a Soviet space probe going to Venus, which was pretty interesting, actually, but other than that it was business as usual.
"Wow, it's almost eleven. I better get home."
"Thought you didn't have a 'lil lady waitin' on ya at home?" Bobby said, lifting an eyebrow.
"I don't. My lady's at the station," Mike smirked, "I have work in the morning."
"You still show up thirty minutes early?"
"Always, and now my roommate does, too."
"Yeah, you said he works with ya?"
"Mhmm, Marco Lopez, one of the lineman. You should meet him sometime. I was thinkin' we could go have dinner at my parents' soon. Rosie and Vi are gettin' big."
"We know the feelin', boy. Alright, well you git home," Bobby told him, "You let me know about dinner at your folks', hear? I know Len would love to see your mother again."
Mike bid everyone goodnight and thankfully made it home in good time. Marco was still up, and he felt a pang of guilt.
"I'm sorry I'm so late, babe," he said right away, stepping up to the couch, "Time just got away from me. You know how it is with old friends, friends that are like family, that you haven't seen in a long time. And I didn't wanna call. I thought it would be too suspicious, y'know?"
For a moment, Marco said nothing, and Mike was terrified that he was truly upset. Marco sighed.
"I'll be honest, Mike… I was kinda mad at first, when it hit nine-thirty, ten, ten-thirty, eleven, and you hadn't called… but I had to remember that, that he is a good friend you haven't seen in a few years. I know I get the same way."
"So you're not mad? Not upset?"
"Maybe because you didn't call, but I understand why you didn't. We'll have to come up with some excuses to call each other, like checking on the cats or asking one of us to put away food."
"I'll just tell them my roommate's a worrywart," Mike smirked.
Marco lifted an eyebrow, saying, "I think it'd be more appropriate if I used that excuse and called you the worrywart."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Means you worry too much, cariño."
Mike pouted a little, but it was quickly kissed away by Marco. They pulled away before things got too heated, Mike whispering, "C'mon, babe, let's go to bed. We got work in the morning."
The two of them were in bed in under fifteen minutes, curled up around each other, legs twined.
"This is my favorite place to be," Mike murmured before he drifted off to sleep, "Right here with you…"
Marco gave him a sleepy smile and replied, "Good. I was gonna say the same thing."
xXxXx
Bobby Lee Starrett was a bit overwhelming at first, a huge man with a big voice and a bigger personality. He was the opposite of Mike in so many ways it was almost comical. Marco thought it was ironic that such a loud man would have a deaf son, that someone with such tough hands would need them to eloquently communicate. Mike's hands at least looked elegant enough to sign.
Marco would never tell Mike, but he'd been a little jealous at first. He didn't particularly like the idea of sharing Mike with someone else, no matter who it was, especially because Mike wasn't too close with too many people. He got rid of that feeling as fast as he could. He didn't want to be possessive or jealous or anything like that. Too often in his life he heard of a guy beating his wife or girlfriend because he thought she was cheating or talked to some guy for too long or even looked at another guy. Marco didn't like guys like that. He never wanted to be like that.
Those initial feelings had been ridiculous, anyway. It was clear that Mike and Starrett were just like family, were close as brothers. He enjoyed watching them interact, found it interesting to watch Mike speak with someone he'd known for more than ten years. He'd always felt he and Mike were kindred spirits, felt like he knew him forever from the first, but this was different. Starrett was someone who'd actually known Mike for a long time.
"So, Marco, you're Mikey's roommate, huh?" Starrett asked when they met, "Well, you lucked out, son. Couldn't ask for a better friend than Mikey Stoker. No one better in a pinch."
"Couldn't have said it better myself… plus he's clean and easy to take care of. Not fussy or messy at all."
Starrett laughed at that. Marco liked Starrett. He was kind and friendly and knew his job. The department needs more men like Starrett to be captains… needs more men like him in general. One of his friends at 45s told him how great Starrett was to have as a captain, and Marco honestly believed him.
Station 51 was called out to support 45s on a traffic accident near the freeway, involving about seven cars. Starrett was waiting for them, grinning like always.
"Got lucky here," Starrett told 51s, "Don't appear to be no fatalities, mostly just people all shook up an' trapped in their vehicles. Just need help cuttin' 'em out."
"Hey, Bobby, thought you were B-shift? Shouldn't you be home with Maggie?" Mike asked.
"Clukey had to call out, wasn' feelin' too good. Well, I figured I might as well stay on. Could always use some OT. Anyway, you git to work, Mikey. We ain't here to gab."
Mike laughed but did as the captain told him. Cap called, "Mike, you go with Johnny and help him out. Some vehicles might just need a prybar to free the victims…"
After about thirty minutes, all but one car had been taken care of, and Marco helped Mike with the jaws. The paramedics from 45s checked the victims, who were worse off than any others at the scene. Once they were out, 45s quickly got them into ambulances and off to Rampart. Mike went back to the engine to get their equipment put away, so Marco went to help.
"Nice, easy run," Marco spoke up, "Always like a run with no fatalities."
"Who doesn't? Feels good and makes for less paperwork. Here, I'm gonna go say bye to Bobby. Be back in a minute, Marco…"
He watched Mike easily climb down off the engine and busied himself with getting the jaws put away properly before starting to get down himself.
"Bobby!"
The voice was Mike's, a terrified scream Marco had never heard before and hoped to never hear again. Marco ran around the engine to him, saw him sprinting toward Starrett who had collapsed on the asphalt. Johnny got to him first, shortly followed by Roy and a guy from 45s. Thinking quickly, Marco caught up to Mike and grabbed him, keeping him from going further. Mike struggled against his hold, and he couldn't blame him.
"Lemme go," Mike begged, "Lemme go, Marco-!"
"No, Mike, stop! You can't-! Stop it! Look, Johnny and Roy are takin' care of Starrett! Bobby's gettin' taken care of, Mike. You can't just charge in there and interrupt them. Let them take care of him, okay?" Marco said, trying to calm him.
Mike stopped fighting after a few moments, nodded shakily, and allowed Marco to lead him closer.
xXxXx
I wish every run was so easy, had so many happy endings. Mike got everything situated in the back of the engine, making small talk with Marco, finally saying, "Here, I'm gonna go say bye to Bobby. Be back in a minute, Marco…"
He hopped off the engine and headed for Bobby, seeing the other man smiling. He's always smiling. All the time. Mike took a few steps toward him. A look of surprise came over Bobby's face, his eyes widening, eyebrows rising, mouth falling open slightly. He looked as if he'd only just remembered something important and brought his hand up to his chest. The big man collapsed.
The world froze around Mike for a moment, his vision tunneling down to his collapsed mentor. He screamed, "Bobby!" his voice loud and terrified, drawing everyone's attention for sure. Fear clawed at his throat as he took off toward Bobby, only vaguely aware of the others descending on Bobby. Someone stopped him, grabbing him around the waist and holding him back. Mike struggled wildly, desperate to reach his friend, his mentor, his brother. He twisted to see who restrained him, begged, "Lemme go! Lemme go, Marco-!"
There was a rushing in his ears even Marco's voice took a moment to penetrate.
"…gettin' taken care of, Mike. You can't just charge in there and interrupt them. Let them take care of him, okay?"
Mike ceased struggling after a moment, partly from Marco's soothing tone and partly from having worn himself out slightly. Marco started to walk closer to Bobby, and Mike allowed himself to be pulled along. His heart thumped painfully in his chest. Please… please let Bobby be okay… Mike tried not to listen to what Roy was relaying to Rampart. Sounds like cardiac arrest. Sounds bad. God, please let him be okay. They loaded Bobby into an ambulance that sped off to Rampart. Mike felt shaky and unsteady. Marco tightened his grip. Chet came over, his eyes big and blue and sad. He put a hand on Mike's shoulder, saying quietly, "He'll be alright… he's got the best people workin' on him…"
Mike couldn't respond. His well-being was in the hands of others now, was to be determined by what happened with Bobby, by whether he lived or died. Something ached in Mike's chest, something empty and horrible, something that set his stomach rolling. Cap made his way over, speaking quietly, "They're gonna send over another team to clean this up. Chet, we'll wait for 'em here. Marco, you take Mike over in the squad to Rampart. We'll pick you up there," he gripped Mike's shoulder, "You'll be alright, pal."
He said nothing, didn't even move until prompted by Marco to get into the squad, was silent all the way to Rampart. For his part, Marco didn't try to get him to speak. A numbing cold spread out from Mike's core, bled into his extremities. It almost hurt physically, the ever-growing helplessness and dread. He prayed Bobby would be alright… while part of him knew he wouldn't be.
The guys from 45s as well as Johnny and Roy were in the waiting area when they arrived. Johnny came over and led Mike to a chair while Roy spoke to Marco.
"He must be a damn good friend to you, Mike," Johnny whispered.
Mike's hands twitched, and he forced his mouth to work, "Ye-Yeah… yeah, Bob-Bobby taught me everything I-I know. He was the-the first engineer I ever worked with. He's li-like family-"
He felt his expression crumple and worked to return it to something resembling neutral. Johnny put his arm around Mike, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly, and told him, "Dr. Brackett's in there workin' on Capt. Starrett now. He's one of the best, one of the absolute best, and if there's anything in the world that can be done for Starrett, Brackett'll do it. I promise you that. Everything that can be done is bein' done, Mike… they're workin'… they're doin' their best…"
Johnny's voice was low and kind, the same one he used on patients. Marco and Roy joined them shortly, Marco sitting beside Mike and Roy beside Johnny. Mike's vision tunneled to the door to the treatment room Bobby was in. He'd only been there a few minutes when it opened. Mike rose to his feet to meet Brackett, whose face did not bear a hopeful expression. The men of 45s, not Bobby's usual shift, seemed to sense Mike's deep friendship with Bobby and allowed him to receive the news.
Brackett gave a deep sigh, telling Mike, "I-I'm sorry… he's gone. We did everything we could…"
His words were drowned out by a loud rushing in Mike's ears, and Mike's knees nearly buckled. Marco was there, gripping his hand and arm to get him back into a chair.
"…was just nothing we could do," Brackett explained, his voice coming back into focus, "His heart simply stopped and wouldn't start again. It's a shame, but it happens in firemen sometimes, even firemen as young as Starrett. It's happened a few times across the country. Just-… I'm sorry, fellas. I wish I coulda done more for him. Has his wife been notified yet?"
"No… no, not-not yet… I'll-… I'll do it now," Mike muttered.
"You can use the phone in my office, Stoker," Brackett offered, "In here…"
xXxXx
Marco watched Mike disappear into Brackett's office, his heart heavy. He wanted to go with him, but he couldn't, not with the other firemen there… not unless Mike asked for him. That would be okay. Cap and Chet arrived just after Mike went into Brackett's office.
"It's not good, is it," Cap said, and it was not a question.
"That obvious?" Marco replied.
Cap nodded. Marco sighed and answered, "Brackett said it was cardiac arrest, said his heart just quit on him and there was nothing they could do… nothing anyone could do."
Cap swore quietly.
"What about Mike?" Chet asked, "Is he alright? I mean, I know him and Starrett were pretty good friends. He looked pretty torn up. Where is he?"
"Yeah, he's not good. He's in Brackett's office now, calling Starrett's wife. Everyone agreed it would be best coming from him. He's known them the longest, after all."
Chet hummed in agreement, looking toward the office door, his eyes bright and sad. Cap sighed, telling them, "Look, I'm gonna call the chief and let him know what's up. I know 45s is gonna be stood down… and honestly our engine'll probably be stood down, too, if we don't get a replacement for Mike because, let's face it, there's no way Mike is gonna be able to go back to work. Be back in a minute…"
Marco watched Cap walk away, then returned his gaze to Brackett's door. Chet put a hand on his shoulder, squeezed gently, whispered, "He'll be alright. He's always alright."
"I hope you're right. I really do… but I think this is different than anything he's been through before."
Chet's eyes followed Marco's gaze to Brackett's office door. The doctor emerged after a moment, slowly making his way over to the firemen. He looks tired… very tired. Brackett scrubbed briefly at his face, approached Marco, said, "He's asking for you, Lopez. He's- uh… he's pretty broke up over this… needs a friend."
Marco nodded, swallowing thickly. He thought back to when his Abuela died not so very long ago. Mike had been there by his side the whole time, took care of him, dried his tears, helped him grieve. I owe him that much… I owe him more. Brackett walked him to the office and knocked on the door, saying, "Mike? Mike, I've got Marco here. He'd like to come in and talk with you."
There was no response, which was as Marco anticipated. He simply pushed his way into the office. Mike looked worse than sad, and it tore at Marco's heart. He looked utterly lost, as though his whole world had been torn apart from under his feet. Something like envy rose up inside Marco, but he forced it out, was ashamed of it. Mike's eyes looked dry but empty and haunted. I was there when Abuela died, but we were expecting that. Starrett was forty-one, and Mike watched him drop dead in front of him, no warning. Marco approached the engineer slowly, not wanting to startle him, unsure if Mike was even fully aware of his presence.
"He-He's gone," Mike said, his voice flat and quiet, "Just like that… he's… he's gone."
"I know, querido. I'm sorry… I'm so sorry this happened."
"I-I-I just wish I knew why. Why Bobby? Why now? Ellie hasn't even graduated high school yet. Len hasn't even started high school! It's no-not fair, Marco! It's not fair!"
Mike shouted the last words, making Marco jump slightly. I remember he told me… his grief is angry. He told me he gets mad. At least he doesn't look blank and empty anymore. Mike's eyes were wet and bright and angry while his lip trembled, his hands balled into fists. He yelled again, "It's not fuckin' fair! Bobby has a wife and kids to take care of! Kids to put through school! He was gonna watch 'em grow up and get married and have kids of their own and now he can't because he's fuckin' dead! And there's not even anyone I can blame! He's just dead 'cause-'cause his hear-heart gave out-"
He seemed almost surprised by the sob that cut off his words, but his expression quickly crumpled.
xXxXx
There were too many emotions swirling around Mike's head. Everything hurt: his head, his chest, his heart. He felt so much anger and grief and pain, it was overwhelming.
"Hi-His heart was s-so big, Marco," Mike choked out, "I-I don't know how it could jus-just stop like that. He loved everyone. Wh-Why did he die, Marco?"
The brown eyes were sad as he whispered, "I wish I knew," and pulled Mike into an embrace. Mike sucked in a shuddering breath, but it wasn't enough to hold back the sobs. Marco tightened his arms around him but said nothing. Words wouldn't have been much use. Mike wouldn't have been comforted by words. He was barely comforted by Marco's embrace. He just couldn't stop crying. Even though he was sure the other guys could hear him, sure Marco would tire of holding him, he just couldn't keep himself from crying. He cried until he simply couldn't anymore, until he was worn out. Marco gently led him out of the office, and he almost cried again upon seeing the 51s crew there waiting for him just outside the door.
They all went back to the station, Mike sitting with Marco in back of the engine. He didn't remember the ride, his vision tunneled and blurry, barely aware of Marco's presence beside him. The emotions were swirling again, the anger starting to rise once more. He wanted someone to blame, but there was no one. Johnny and Roy had done their job perfectly, as had Brackett. There was no arsonist who'd lit a fire that killed him or a motorist behind the wheel of a car. The only one to even be conceivably angry with was God, and that just wasn't as satisfying as having an actual person to be mad at. The anger was beginning to settle in his veins, pool in his joints. He knew there would be an outburst. When Aunt Stella died, Mike put his fist through a plate glass patio door. The scars were still on his knuckles. His hands shook.
Johnny and Roy both apologized softly, even though they did nothing wrong, and Cap and Chet both offered their condolences. Mike thanked them all politely, trying not to let the anger show in his voice. Hit something… I wanna hit something… It was unavoidable, anger crackling under his skin like electricity. He escaped to the locker room, needing to get away from the sympathy and condolences. His muscles felt tight, especially across his back and shoulders. Red began creeping into the edge of his vision.
Something shattered. Someone yelled. Mike became dimly aware of his surroundings, came to slowly. Chet had Mike's arms pinned to his sides, though he wasn't struggling against the hold, his chest heaving. Pain began creeping into his left hand. Cap led the two of them into the dayroom, saying, "Roy, c'mere and take care of Mike's hand. Everyone else, go clean up that mess in the locker room. Make it quick."
Mike heard footsteps leave, still only vaguely aware of what was happening around him.
xXxXx
Marco was given leave to take Mike home, which Johnny thought was a good idea. Probably best Mike's not alone after what he did to that mirror. Cap was carefully sweeping the incident under the rug, planning to buy a similar mirror to replace it, ready to claim one of them accidentally knocked it off the wall. (Johnny nearly got into a heated argument with Chet over which one of them would take the blame, both wanting to help Mike.) Johnny still felt guilt clawing at him.
"You okay, Junior?"
Roy sat beside him on his bunk. He seemed to have some sixth sense where Johnny was concerned, seemed to always know when Johnny was genuinely upset. He looked to his partner. The clear, cloudy-sky eyes gazed right through him, would detect any lie in no time. He always knows when I'm lyin'… maybe 'cause I'm a shitty liar. Johnny shook his head.
"It's about Starrett, isn't it."
It wasn't a question. He always knows.
"I just-… I shoulda been faster… or-or better, maybe," Johnny said quietly.
"Don't, Johnny. Don't do that to yourself. You know not to do that, not to blame yourself for things outta your control."
"I know. I know not to blame myself, but I can't help it. A fireman died. He died right there in front of me, in our care. We were supposed to take care of him, to save his life. That's our job… our duty."
There was a lump rising in his throat, a slight burning behind his eyes.
"We didn't fail," Roy explained gently, as he always did, "We did everything that was in our power to do. Just… it wasn't enough. We're paramedics, not gods. There was nothing that could be done, not by us and not by Brackett."
Johnny sniffed, blinking back tears, and whispered, "I know… but I feel like I let Mike down."
Starrett was Mike's friend, his mentor, practically his family, and Johnny couldn't save him. The fact that Starrett was a fellow fireman made it so much worse. It was never easy, especially when it was a guy he'd met and liked. Johnny felt his lip tremble and was unable to keep a couple tears from falling. He sniffed again, wiped at his face. Roy gently rubbed his back, trying to soothe him.
"Believe me, Johnny, I know how you feel… I feel the same way."