Dr. Brackett was on relay with Brice and Bob during their long ambulance ride to Rampart. Dixie had already prepped the treatments rooms and was now patiently monitoring the radio in case another emergency came in the door.

Dr. Early, who had kept his usual quiet composure, was eyeing his friends with compassionate empathy. He walked over to the bay station where Dixie was continuing the never ending task of organizing patient files.

"Dixie?"

"Yeah Joe?" She looked up from the files to her friend.

"They're on their way. Everything will be okay."

She tried to smile but her concern made her cheery grin hollow. "That's what I keep telling myself."

"But you're worried about Roy."

"Yeah. Aren't you?"

"Of course I am. From what I've heard from Kel it sounds like Roy's suffered a punctured lung and will need surgical repair. And it sounds like Johnny's suffering from a *compartment syndrome in his arm. I don't want to see either of them go under the knife, but it's the only way to help them."

Dixie sighed. As an experienced nurse who had seen her fair share of injuries ranging from simple cuts and bruise to bullet wounds and limb amputation, but see the patient as a friend or family member struck her just as hard as ever.

Dr. Brackett exited the private call booth in the bay station. "Dix, is Dr. Morton still on call?"

"Yes. He was assisting Dr. Caine with an emergency C-section, last I heard."

"Could you find him? We'll need his help."

"Right Kel." Dixie took the phone and began checking for Dr. Morton's current whereabouts.

"Kel?" Dr. Early could tell from his friend's tone that something wasn't right. "What's going on?"

He sighed and wrung his hands together. "Roy still isn't breathing on his own. His heart rate is up to 96 and he's showing cyanosis. Possible pneumothorax."

"Absence of breath sounds?"

"Diminished sounds on the left lung."

"We're going to need a chest x-ray to confirm."

"I have x-ray standing by."

"If he develops a *bronchopleural fistula he'll need immediate surgery."

"I just hope he's strong enough to handle the surgery. He's been without treatment for too long."

Dixie hung up the phone. "Kel, Dr. Morton is on his way down."

"Good. Tell him to meet me in treatment room 1."

Dr. Early looked over at Dixie. "Does JoAnne know?"

"I'm calling her now."

In the ambulance Johnny was still unconscious, oblivious to his friend's struggle to survive.

While Bob continued to work the ambu-bag while Brice listened intently to Roy's chest for any sign of improvement or change. "Heart rate is still elevated. Negative breath sounds on the left."

Bob noted the time on his watch. "It'll be about ten more minutes until we reach Rampart. Think he'll be able to hold out."

"Twelve minutes from Rampart," Brice coldly 'corrected' his partner. "and as for holding out, I've worked with DeSoto before. He seems to be in fit condition. I think his chances are good."

Johnny was slowly beginning to stir. His broken, splinted arm had been secured in place over his chest to prevent him from moving the damage limb causing further injury or pain. His glazed over brown eyes opened and he tried to look around. "Roy?"

Bob answered calmly. "Roy's right here. You're both on your way to Rampart. How do you feel?"

"Terrible. My hand is a little numb." His voice was low and flat. "How's Roy?"

"Hanging on."

"How bad?"

"Johnny, don't worry yourself with-"

"How bad?" He repeated with a little more authority.

"Pretty bad." Bob answered honestly our of respect for both Johnny and Roy.

Johnny closed his eyes and sighed. "Damn it. I should've-"

"No." Brice interrupted Johnny. "You should have done nothing. You were injured in the accident as well. You have no responsibility in this scenario."

"He's my partner. That makes him my responsibility." He flinched in pain and failed to hide it.

"Johnny, be honest. How's the pain?"

"Bad. I can barely stand it."

"We're almost to Rampart. It'll be another-"

"Brice! Roy's gone into v-fib!" Bob banged his hand against the driver's compartment of the ambulance. "Pull over!"

Brice picked up the line to Rampart. "Rampart, patient has gone into v-fib."

Dr. Early responded. 'Defibrillate, 400 watt seconds!'

"10-4."

Johnny held his breath as he listened to the defibrillator whine to life as the life saving charge built. Brice readied the paddles and applied the gel. Bob continued pumping the ambu-bag and counted down the charge. "One, two, three, four..." He took his hand from the ambu-bag.

"Clear." Brice stated as he delivered the electric charge through Roy's heart.

Roy's body twitched and arced upward slightly on the gurney. The straps prevented him from moving too far. The sight was almost too much for Johnny to deal with.

The engine crew had given their statement to Vince, cleaned up their equipment and proceeded to follow the ambulance to the hospital. Chet volunteered to bring in the squad, he was following 'Big Red'. As the engine rounded the corner en route to the hospital they spied to ambulance parked alongside the road.

Mike slowed the rig and stopped behind the ambulance.

Captain Stanley had become familiar enough with the paramedic crew's routine to know that when the ambulance pulls to the side of the road that it means the patient has gone down hill. "C'mon guys, don't do this. You've made it so far already."

"No conversion." Bob noted the lack of change on the heart monitor after the second attempt to defibrillate.

"One more time." Brice readied the paddles.

"One, two, three, four..."

"Clear."

The third life saving shock was delivered.

"He's back!" Bob resumed working the ambu-bag. "Normal sinus rhythm."

Brice leaned forward to address the driver. "Okay, let's go."

Johnny let out his anxious breath and closed his eyes.

The ambulance pulled away from the side of the road and resumed traveling to the hospital. The sirens and lights blaring their all too familiar song.

"Rampart, successful conversion. E.T.A. eight minutes."

'10-4.'

Mike began following the ambulance again. The three crew members let out a collective sigh of relief as they resumed the journey.

"That's it, hang on guys." Captain Stanley praised his paramedics. "Things wouldn't be the same without ya'."

...to be continued...

Terms: *'bronchopleural fistula' basically means a complication from a collapsed lung that requires surgical intervention because the damage cannot heal itself properly.

*'compartment syndrome' is when fluid, edema or blood, collects in the muscular tissue around a severe injury, typically a broken arm, hand or leg, and the mounting pressure from the building fluid can cause intense pain and potentially irreparable damage to the affected limb/extremity.

I'm not a doctor/nurse/paramedic, this has been researched and applied to my story(s).