"Do ya' think we should wake him?" said a hushed voice.
"Yeah...we probably should; he's gonna want to know," whispered the other voice.
"Pretty rough night; a few more minutes wouldn't hurt him any," replied the first.
"I dunno, I think this is pretty important," murmured the second.
Roy blinked and frowned, trying to focus on the human forms standing next to the sofa. "Mmph," he grunted, and stretched his 6'1" frame to its full length, reveling in how much better he felt after a bit of rest. Opening his eyes fully, he saw Chet and Marco, standing before him and whispering secretively.
Roy cleared his throat, sniffed, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and grunted again, "Hi. What's goin' on?"
"Oh, uh, sorry Roy. We weren't sure if we should wake ya' or not," Chet told him. "Dixie said you were resting in here."
"It's alright," Roy replied, inhaling deeply, then releasing it. "What's up? Something wrong?"
"Uh, no, we just wanted to tell you that Johnny's in a room now and Cap's awake. They're actually both asking for you," Marco informed him, "Dixie said Mike's resting, but that's all we know about him."
"Hm, guess I'm a popular guy all of a sudden," Roy mumbled. He tossed off the light blanket that he assumed Dixie had placed on him, and sat up on the side of the sofa. Rubbing his hands over his face to wake up further, he looked up at the old clock on the wall, and saw it was just past nine o'clock. Four hours of sleep wasn't much to be sure, but it sure felt good anyway. He yawned deeply and said, "Alright, where to first?"
"Uh, I guess Cap's room?" Marco shrugged. "Dixie told us about him first, anyway. From what she said, it sounds like all three are in ICU for at least a little while. Cap's in 310, Johnny's in 313 and Mike's in 322."
"Okay, let's go then," Roy stated and stood up. No longer woozy, he stretched and yawned again before exiting the lounge, followed by a very concerned Chet and Marco.
The trio walked in silence to Captain Stanley's hospital room. Roy, of course, knew more about the possible long-term complications of a gunshot wound, especially for a person who needed to use his muscles each day- like a fireman would. Although his wound could certainly have been worse, it would definitely need quite some time to heal. With a certain degree of apprehension, Roy opened the door and poked his head inside the room.
"Hey, Cap? Can I come in?" he asked almost timidly.
"Roy," mumbled Cap tiredly, "c'mon in, I've been wanting to talk to you. Sit down, please."
Roy walked up to the side of Cap's bed. The legs of the light blue chair which sat against the wall, squonked across the floor as Roy slid it over to the side of the bed. Before sitting, he took a good look at his Captain's face. Stanley was pale and obviously weak, but the determined look that the Captain always seemed to own was still there. His left arm was lying to his side, slightly raised to keep pressure off the bandages that wound around Cap's chest. An IV line slid its way down to Cap's right arm and he sported a nasal cannula for oxygen. He gave Roy a tired smile, and that small gesture did wonders for Roy's uneasiness.
Roy cleared his throat, "C-Cap, you feelin' better?" He pressed his fingertips tightly to the unyielding surface of the bed rails and had a hard time meeting his Captain's eyes.
Cap closed his eyes slowly, then looked back at Roy. Like all of Roy's close friends, Cap knew by now how DeSoto was when "family" was injured. "You did good, Roy," Cap reassured him, "I'm going to be fine; I don't want you to worry so much, okay?"
Roy managed a smile he didn't really feel, "Yeah...thanks, Cap."
Marco and Chet stood sentry at the doorway, mindful of the exchange between their Captain and their friend.
"Chet, Marco, it's okay. C'mon in," Cap told them.
They approached their Captain and Chet smiled weakly. "Cap? Man, I'm sure glad to see you again," he sputtered. "Gonna be weird havin' all you guys out when we go on shift next, ya' know?"
"Yeah, Cap. We were all pretty worried about you...and Mike...and John," Marco said as he stood on the other side of the bed. He felt like he should take Cap's hand or pat his shoulder or...something to show support, but was afraid of hurting him. Instead, he fidgeted with his hands for a few seconds, then finally stuffed them in the front pockets of his jeans.
Roy still couldn't make himself sit and relax, but was definitely relieved to know Cap was awake and talking. "So, uh, everything went well, Cap? Your surgery, I mean? How long they think you're gonna be out?"
"Well, it's a little too soon to be certain, they said, but Doctor Ramsey figured it'd be at least six weeks, if everything goes well." Cap looked like he was going to nod off, then opened his eyes again. "I really don't have much pain, at least, not yet. Maybe when they back off on the good stuff here, that'll change," he said, drowsily, nodding toward the IV line.
"Well, uh, look, I'm gonna go and let you get some more rest, Cap," Roy said, then looked over at Cap's wife. "Mrs. Stanley, I'm, uh, real sorry about all this. I'm...I'm glad he's gonna be okay."
Cap's wife smiled warmly at Roy, then at Chet and Marco; she stood to take Roy's hand in hers. "Boys, I'm so glad you're here for Hank. He'll be back with you all before you know it." She squeezed Roy's hand, "God bless you, Roy, you're a good man. Take care."
Roy nodded, "Thank you, ma'am, I-I appreciate that. Cap? We're gonna go check in on Johnny and see if we can find out anything about Mike. We'll fill you in as soon as we can."
"Good...good...thanks, Roy." Cap winced a little, then gasped when he tried to take a deep breath. He gave a meager chuckle, "Looks like I need a little more of the good stuff. I'll see you guys, later."
"Yeah...see ya' Cap," Chet said solemnly, "Mrs. Stanley."
"Bye, Cap, bye, Mrs. Stanley," Marco waved.
Upon exiting the room, Chet, Marco and Roy all exhaled. "Geez, he looked pale, Roy," Marco said quietly. "I've never seen Cap like that. Kinda' scary."
"You shoulda' seen him when I found him at Mike's..." Roy mumbled, then walked toward Johnny's room.
Chet and Marco exchanged a worried glance and watched Roy amble away.
"This has to be pretty hard on him, amigo." Marco shook his head, "I can't imagine what Roy went through last night."
"Yeah," Chet agreed quietly, "it musta' been somethin' awful. I hope Gage looks better than Cap did."
Roy stood outside room 313 with his hand on the door. He was reluctant to go in, recalling how badly Jordan had beaten Johnny last night. He was fairly certain that Jordan could not have lived long, but wished he knew for sure so he could tell Johnny. Taking a deep breath to steel himself for what he was about to see, Roy stood up straight and opened the door.
Johnny was asleep again, and Roy stepped softly to the bed. Once again, Chet and Marco stood back, unsure if they should enter as well. Chet peeked his head around Marco's shoulder, wanting, and yet not wanting, to take a glimpse of Johnny. He could see Johnny's head was turned away, a large bandage covering most of the side that was visible. IVs ran down to both arms, which along with his legs, were slightly raised and cushioned on several pillows. As expected, his face was swollen, black and blue. Although he had three cracked ribs in his back, he still lay on a cooling blanket to ease the bruising and swelling. The hospital gown covered the deep purpling on his hips and thighs, his right knee was bandaged, as was his left ankle. Eddie Jordan had certainly done his best work.
Roy swallowed hard and took a breath, "Hey, uh, Johnny?" he said softly, "it's Roy. I, uh, just wanted to see how you're doin'."
Johnny stirred a little and opened his eyes when he felt Roy's hand on his shoulder. His turned his head toward Roy and Roy tried to hide his shock at how swollen and discolored John's face was. Johnny managed a small smile when he recognized his partner standing there.
"Roy?" he croaked out.
"Yeah?" Roy asked.
"I don't think...black and blue...are my favorite colorth anymore," Gage lisped through puffy lips.
Roy smiled a little, "Yeah...I'll bet not. You in much pain, Junior?"
"Nah," answered Johnny, "the meds take care of motht of it. Jus'...really tired." His eyes wandered over to the doorway. "'Zat Chet an' Marco?"
Roy turned, "Yeah, it is. Hey, guys...c'mon over."
"Yeah..." Johnny mumbled, "I won't bite." He paused, then snickered, "Actually, I can't bite... I broke a tooth and my mouth ith too puffy."
Marco smiled and approached Johnny's bed. "Hey, Amigo, how're you feeling?"
"Geez, Gage, you look like a big raisin, " Chet smirked. If Johnny could joke about his injuries, Chet felt he could as well. "Hopefully the cafeteria doesn't make any cookies today, you could be in trouble."
"I'm gonna be okay, Marco, thankth...and I'm already in trouble, Kelly...you're here," Johnny snarked back.
The tension having been broken, Johnny said, "Guys? Can one of you raithe the bed? I wanna sit up a little."
"Sure, Gage, I'll help," Chet butted in before Roy had a chance to respond. A nervous Chet was never a good thing. John knew he'd fuss and fret, all the while hiding it behind jokes and false bravado. Roy stepped back and allowed Chet to tend to his pigeon.
Once upright and able to see his friends better, Johnny asked, "Well...you guyth...gonna tell me about Cap and Mike?"
"We, ah, we just left Cap's room; he's doin' good. He's pretty weak; guess that bullet caused a lot of blood loss, but he says he's gonna be okay," Roy told him with a slight shrug. "I suppose he's gonna be out for a while, though."
Marco nodded, "Yeah, he'll be okay...it'll just take some time."
The room fell silent for a few moments, then Johnny spoke again. "So, uh, what about Mike? Any of you theen 'im yet?"
"No...not yet. I don't know why, but Dixie only said he was resting in his room. She did say we could go see him, though," said Chet. "Man, I bet he's takin' this stuff hard."
"Yeah...probly' so," Johnny gasped and closed his eyes. His meds usually did a fine job of taking away most of the pain, but every time he tried to shift in bed, it was like each nerve ending woke up angry.
"You okay, pal?" Roy asked. "Want me to get a doctor?"
Johnny snorted a little, "No, Dad, I'm okay. It's...only bad...when I move. Gotta stop that."
"Okay, well, uh, maybe we should get goin'. How about we go see Mike now?" Roy asked Marco and Chet.
"Sure, that sounds good. We'll see ya' tomorrow maybe, okay, Gage?" Marco told him.
"Yeah, that'd be good. Thee ya'." Johnny sighed and closed his eyes again as the guys left his room.
Wandering down towards Stoker's room, Marco nudged Roy. "Hey, look there. That nurse is leaving Mike's room; she doesn't look too happy."
The three firemen arrived at Mike's door in time to overhear that nurse tell another, "That's the second time today he's refused breakfast and it's only nine-thirty! Doctor Early's a nice man, but he's going to have my head if I can't get that man to eat something. How many times do I keep trying?"
"I know, Janey," the other replied,"honestly, sometimes these patients make things so much harder than they need to be!"
The nurses stalked off and Marco, Chet and Roy stood there, looking at each other, unsure how to proceed. This was probably going to be harder than they thought.