Star Light Star Bright, Wish I May, Wish I Might

Chapter 6

When the cab pulled up to the house, Donna glanced at the meter and sighed. That had been an expensive ride. The driver turned around and looked at her expectantly over his shoulder.

"Uh, my purse is in the house. I'll have to go get it," she said.

The driver rolled his eyes and gave a quick, jerky nod. Donna couldn't get out of the car fast enough. Inside it she felt like she was a prisoner.

When Donna got to the front door, she realized that because her purse hadn't been taken to the hospital with her, she also didn't have keys. She sighed loudly in exasperation and headed to the back porch. When she got there, she lifted the planter on the bottom step to retrieve the spare key that should have been hidden there. To her dismay, it wasn't. She started to become alarmed until she looked up and realized that nobody had bothered to close the back door before she had been hauled off to the hospital.

Donna quickly entered the house to retrieve her purse. As she entered the living room she began to feel panicky as visions of her ordeal began to flood her mind. She didn't realize she was crying until she heard the guttural sound come forth from her own mouth.

After great effort, she remembered where her purse was, retrieved enough cash to pay the cabby and headed fearfully out the front door, wiping her tears away with her hands. Before she stepped out of the yard, she went to the corner of the fence where the paramedics had tied up Bull, her dog.

"Bully, here boy! It's okay," she said, as the dog got excited upon seeing her. She untied the rope from the fence and took him with her to pay the cabby. One look at Bull and the cabby was more than ready to leave. He opened the passenger window only an inch or two and leaned across the front seat to accept the money from Donna. As soon as she had stepped away from the cab, the driver pulled out quickly. Donna then took Bull in the house with her and let him loose just as soon as she had locked the front door, both the lock on the doorknob and the deadbolt. While Bull made his usual rounds checking out the house, Donna checked to make sure each and every window was locked and double checked the back and front doors.

Now that she was home, all Donna wanted was a long hot shower. She felt as though she could still feel his disgusting body on hers and swore she could smell the scent of him on her clothes.

As Donna closed the bathroom door, she got the first full look at herself since the attack. She had already seen her bruised and swollen face in the bathroom mirror at Rampart but now she got the whole view. She was shocked at the site of the woman reflected back at her from the full-length mirror.

She stared hard at her head and face. Her hair was tangled and wild. The bruising around her eyes was already blue and black, making her sort of look like she was wearing a mask. Her cheeks were swollen and dark blue and purple as well. Her jaw ached and throbbed where he had punched her hard making her think her teeth would all fall out. Her lips were swollen and cut as well. She looked like something out of a horror movie.

Looking down her reflection she noticed red and darker bruising on her neck and chest where it showed above her blouse. Slowly she unbuttoned the blouse and slid it off, dropping it to the floor. She removed her brassiere as well. Her arms were bruised where he had held them down and where she had deflected some of his blows. Her ribs were covered with bruises too but thankfully, Dr. Varner had said none were broken.

Moving gingerly, Donna removed the rest of her clothing and staring at her bruised and naked body she began to sob uncontrollably. She sat on the edge of the bathtub and put her head in her hands as she cried. After a few moments, the sobbing lessoned and she stood up with resolve to wash him off of her.

She set the shower as hot as it would go and stepped in. The water burned on her skin but she didn't care. Using a manicure brush, she scrubbed her body raw with soap and water and didn't stop scrubbing until the shower was too cold for her to bear it any longer.

When she had dried off, she dressed quickly. She wore jeans with a belt, a tank top, covered by a tee shirt and a sweatshirt over that. She covered her feet with socks but did not put shoes on. After dressing she returned to the bathroom and brushed her hair, pulling it back in a ponytail loosely, still damp. She picked up her clothes off the bathroom floor and took them straight to the trash.

Looking around her, Donna didn't feel safe. The attack had happened in her own home, with her very protective dog in the yard. Her brother, whom she lived with, had been late getting home from his work as a nighttime gas station attendant. Now she was home alone again, with her dog beside her. She was exhausted and wanted sleep, but she was afraid to close her eyes. She went to her room and lay down on the bed on her side. Bull followed her in and although he usually wasn't allowed, she invited him up on the bed with her. He moved in close to her and lay down so that their bodies were touching. He was a comfort to her and the warmth of him up against her finally helped her fall asleep.

The loud slamming of the front door and the subsequent bark from Bull jolted her awake and she screamed. Her eyes were wide with terror as her over tired brain tried to process what was happening. In only a moment the door to her room flew open and she screamed again. Bull started barking because her screams confused him, adding to her terror.

Andrew realized his mistake too late. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he kept saying it over and over trying to be heard over his sister's screaming. He wanted to reach out to her and hold her to calm her but he realized that would be a mistake given her frame of mind and what she'd been through.

How could I have been so stupid? He silently kicked himself for frightening her when he barged in on her. He had just been so worried when she had bolted from the hospital that he didn't think of what it must be like for her. As Donna's screams started to run out of steam he spoke firmly and told her, "Donna, it's me, Andrew!" He had to repeat himself three times before it registered and she stopped screaming. She stared at him blankly for a moment and then she lashed out in anger.

"How could you just come in here and scare me like that?" She demanded. "What were you thinking? You big jerk!" She pummeled him in frustration and fear as she yelled at him. It took every ounce of self-restraint in him not to grab her and hold her wrists to stop the pummeling. Finally she stopped and put her hands over her face and just cried.

Andrew put his hand tentatively on her shoulder. "Donna, I'm so sorry." Gradually he slid his hand toward the center of her back and gently encouraged her to let him hold her. He put his other arm around her and she buried her face into his shoulder, crying uncontrollably. Andrew held her and rocked her a bit as he did so, repeating softly, "It's all right. Let it out. You're safe now." After a while he nudged her back towards the bed and got her to lie down. He sat on the bed next to her and rubbed her back gently as she lay on her side and eventually, she fell back to sleep. Leaving Bull in the room, he left, closing her door behind him.

It had been nearly three hours since Johnny and Roy had returned from the call that had interrupted their lunch. Surprisingly, they hadn't had any other calls so far. Johnny had been unusually quiet all afternoon, a fact that had not gone unnoticed around the station.

Chet, picking up on how down both Roy and John had seemed upon returning, had tried unsuccessfully to get a rise out of his favorite pigeon all afternoon. He decided to make one last ditch effort. He was alone in the day room so he went to the cupboard and took out a glass. He filled it with water all the way to the very top. He walked over the refrigerator, giving the room a once over on the way to make sure no one saw him. Seeing no one, he set the glass on top and pushed it back a few inches. He admired his handy work and made sure that it looked empty, which it did. Perfect.

Chet stepped away from the refrigerator and walked back to the sink. From his pocket he took a roll of black electrical tape and loosened the end. Then he grabbed the sprayer hose from the sink. He pulled it out and held the handle down, with the water still off. Then he wrapped the tape around the black handle and slid the hose back in place. Carefully he adjusted it so that the sprayer was aimed right toward whomever would be standing in front of the sink.

Once he was satisfied with his work, he walked over to the couch where he could pretend to read the newspaper while he waited for his pigeon to fall into his trap. Unfortunately, Cap was the next man to walk into the room and he was headed straight for the cupboard.

Uh oh, thought Chet. Thinking quickly he engaged his captain in conversation. "Hey Cap, thirsty? How 'bout some iced tea?" Chet suggested. Don't touch the sink… PLEASE don't touch the sink!

"Oh, no. I was just getting some water to take a couple of aspirins with. I've got a whopper of a headache," said Hank.

"Well, Cap, you know what I read the other day?" Chet's distraction stopped the captain. He turned around and leaned against the sink counter, facing his lineman.

"No, honestly I don't but I'm guessing you're about to tell me," he answered.

"Well, I read that it's better to take aspirins with milk, on account of aspiring tears up the stomach when it's empty. Milk helps coat the stomach and makes things better."

"No kidding?" said Hank. "Well, a glass of milk does sound pretty good right now. I think I'll try it and see for myself." With that he walked over to the refrigerator and poured himself a glass. If he noticed the glass on top of the refrigerator, he didn't say anything. After he gulped down half the glass, he capped it off and headed for his office.

"Whew, that was close!" Chet said quietly to himself. It wasn't long after that Johnny walked in, followed by Roy. It was Johnny's turn to cook and Roy had followed him in hoping to get him to talk about what ever was bugging him. He had a feeling he knew, but if Johnny didn't talk about it, he would stew all night and nobody would get any sleep.

The first thing Johnny did was walk to the sink to wash his hands. He reached for the faucet and turned on the water sending a jet of water straight at him from the booby-trapped sprayer hose. His shirt turned a bright, darker blue as the water penetrated the fibers. Johnny didn't jump or yelp or respond much at all. He just hung his head a moment while Roy reached over and shut the water off.

"I see the juvenile delinquents have been here," he commented. He knew this wasn't going to improve Johnny's mood any.

"Yeah, looks that way." Johnny said.

Chet had been watching from behind the newspaper, ready to suppress unmanly giggles, but due to Johnny's reaction, or lack there of, there weren't any to suppress. He watched with concern as the pigeon went from one trap to the next.

Roy tossed Johnny a towel off the fridge handle and Johnny sopped up some of the water from his shirt and wiped up the water that had hit the floor. He stepped over to the fridge to hang the sopping wet towel up to dry and noticed the glass on top. Without giving it a thought he reached up for it, just as Roy noticed what he was doing.

"Johnny, don't!" he warned, but it was too late. Johnny had wrapped his hand around the glass and pulled it down splashing the water onto his head and face. He stood there a moment, water dripping from his hair into his face and off his nose to the floor. He kept his eyes closed for a moment and then opened them and wiped the excess water out of them with the back of his empty hand.

Roy watched him and was surprised to see not anger, frustration or indignity. All he saw was resignation. Johnny looked at him and then said, "Man am I dumb. Those are two of the oldest tricks in the book and I fell for both of them, hook, line and sinker." His voice was as dull and lifeless as his expression.

Roy grabbed two more towels out of one of the kitchen drawers and handed one to Johnny as he tossed the other one on the floor to start soaking up the mess. Johnny dried his head off a bit then excused himself to change his shirt. As soon as he stepped out Roy looked at Chet.

"Nice going, Ace," He said.

"What's eating your partner, Roy? I've never seen him so dull and lifeless before… At least not when he was conscious!"

"Well, I'm not sure exactly, but we had a pretty bad run this morning and I think that might have something to do with it. Just give him some space, will you?"

"Yeah, sure thing Roy. I'm sorry. Usually the Phantom's antics snap him right out of his funks." Chet was truly sorry to see his friend obviously hurting about something. As much as he gave Johnny a hard time, he really liked him.

Before Roy could say anything else, the klaxons went off again and he jogged over to the squad stopping at the mic to acknowledge the call. "Squad 51 KMG365" he said into the mic and then hopped in and started it up as Johnny hopped into the passenger side, shirt still unbuttoned.

Mike already had the door rolling up before Roy had finished on the radio and the squad sped off lights and sirens to the next rescue.

Roy and Johnny were sitting in the doctor's lounge at Rampart having a cup of coffee before heading back to the station. Their call had been a fairly routine chest pain call. They had hooked their patient up to the monitor, given meds and monitored during transport. This time the patient had been lucky. His wife called at the first sign of trouble. Too often patients waited until it was too late.

"It's a good thing that Mr. Dean's wife called us when she did. The doc said he's going to be fine after a little surgery to clear some blockages," said Roy.

"Yeah, it could have been a whole lot worse if they'd have waited," agreed Johnny with more liveliness than Roy had seen most of the day.

One thing about Johnny, when he was on a call he was all business, personal life aside. But the call was over and he was still looking alive. This was a good sign and Roy took advantage of it. He looked at Johnny closely. His posture was one of weariness and he knew that whatever was eating Johnny was taking a toll on him physically. Roy set his coffee cup down and cleared his throat a little.

"Johnny?"

Johnny stared into his coffee cup and didn't look up. "Huh?"

"I want to talk to you about what's been bothering you." Roy was soft spoken but direct. "I'm worried about you."

Johnny looked up at his friend and could see the concern on his face. "Aw, Roy, I'm fine. It's just…" he shook his head and looked down into his coffee cup again.

"It's just what, Johnny?" Roy prodded.

"You know earlier, when I was talking about kids, and family, and all that?"

"Yeah, I remember. What about it?"

"It just seems so… I don't know… unimportant." He looked back up at Roy as he continued. "I mean, I'm not saying your family isn't important it's just that… That girl… That call we went on this morning… Roy, she's got problems to deal with and all I was thinking about was myself. But now… " He stopped talking again.

Roy waited a moment and then prodded gently again. "Now what?"

"Now I can't stop thinking about her. How scared she was and how hurt she was… I… I wanted to find the jerk that did that to her and rip him apart with my bare hands. I still want to. And somehow, I want to make things right for her. I don't know how I… How anyone ever could. And I don't even know her, Roy but I can't stop thinking about her."

"Johnny, I know you care about the people we help, that's what makes you good at what you do, but you're forgetting rule number one," Roy said.

"Yeah, I know! Never get hung up on a patient. Too late Roy… I already did."

*Okay, there it is… the first chapter on my own. Because this story started so heavily with OC's, it is a real challenge to write. Still, I feel compelled to write it and see it through. Please be advised that I am working full time and starting EMT school in less than a week so I may be posting very sporadically, but I promise not to abandon this story. I am looking forward to your comments and your suggestions. Please take a minute to leave me a review or feel free to contact me through a private message if you are more comfortable doing so. -Hotflash