"We see these things, and sometimes they hurt badly. But it's part of the job. It's just what we do." Medical Director, CCEMS

Johnny woke up with a start at the sound of the soft cry. In less than a second, he determined in his sleep-addled brain three things: It was either very late or very early, he was in his bunk at the station, and the man in the next bunk was the one making the noise. Before the next second passed, he was on his knees beside his partner's bed. "Roy! Roy, wake up!"

Roy thrashed under the thin sheet, and tears slid down his face. He wasn't waking up as easily as Johnny had hoped, so he was going to have to physically wake him. That was always a risk when someone was in a nightmare. If they were fighting something, you were likely to wind up with a black eye. But right now, something horrific had a hold on his best friend's brain, and if it cost him a black eye to get him out of it, he was more than willing to take a punch. Gripping Roy's shoulders with both his hands, Johnny pulled him into a sitting position. "Roy! Wake up! It's just a dream!"

Instead of pulling away or taking a swing at Johnny, Roy slumped onto his shoulder and started sobbing. Johnny wasn't sure what to say or do now. He had been prepared to take an attack or see Roy startle awake. This was bad. Whatever was going on in Roy's head was breaking his heart. He had seen his friend cry, but this hopeless sobbing was both new and heartbreaking.

The rest of the crew was awake now, and gathering around their little alcove. Johnny looked up at Cap helplessly. Nightmares were a pretty common thing around a fire station, but usually fear was the most overwhelming emotion. This… All Cap knew was that the rest of the guys didn't need to watch. He herded them through the door into the kitchen. "If you need help, we're right out here," He told Johnny, shutting the door.

Starting to get frightened now, Johnny pulled Roy up from his shoulder and looked at him. His face was red and swollen from crying, but Johnny could tell that he wasn't quite awake. "Roy, it's me. It's Johnny. Wake up and talk to me! Whatever it is, it's over now. You're safe!" Roy looked at him now, still not awake, but at least Johnny had his attention. "Roy, it's Johnny and you're here at Station 51 and you're safe and you got a whole station full of guys you're scaring the crap out of right now and you're safe!"

Finally, comprehension dawned in the clear blue eyes, but they still bore so much pain and uncertainty. "Johnny?"

A relieved grin split onto Johnny's face. "Yeah, Roy. It's me. I'm here. Uh… are you here now, too?"

Roy looked around, as if looking for confirmation of something. Then his eyes fell on the bloody turnout gear in the box to be cleaned, and the force of his nightmare hit him full force. The color drained from his face and his voice broke. "Oh, God… Chris!"

Ok, now that wasn't what Johnny was expecting. "Chris? What about him?"

"He's…"

Roy couldn't make himself say it, but Johnny got it. His heart shredded as he realized what Roy had dreamed. The car wreck they had worked this afternoon, the fatality, the child's coat they had found and the terrifying moments when they had thought there might be a child in the mangled mess. There had been no way to tell, as there had been no way at the time to tell if the driver was male or female. Johnny shook him, trying to clear his friend's mind. "Chris is fine! He's alive and safe and asleep and having way better dreams than his daddy."

Roy pointed to the corner. "But there's his blood!"

Johnny shook his head. "Not his, Roy. Not your son's blood. Do you understand me? It was just a dream. Chris is fine."

Finally, Roy seemed to get his bearings. "Chris is ok?"

"He's fine. Nothing happened to him. We worked a bad car wreck this afternoon and a person died. But your son is just fine. I promise. You know I wouldn't lie to you, right?"

Roy nodded slowly. He remembered the car wreck. He remembered the child's jacket. But the boy it belonged to was fine and so was Chris. Slightly embarrassed, he quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. "Yeah. Bad dream. Sorry I woke you up."

Johnny shook his head. "You know better than to apologize for that." They were silent for a beat, then Johnny asked, "You wanna talk about it?" Roy gathered his thoughts and looked around at the empty beds. "They all went to the kitchen. It's just you and me. Talk to me here."

Roy nodded, and his voice broke again at the remembered pain. "We had to do a closed casket…"

Johnny's gut twisted at that statement. "Oh, Roy… man, I'm sorry. Even in a dream, a man should never have to go through that." He studied his partner, then stood up. Roy was awake, calm, and no longer crying, but his face was taut with pain as he fought valiantly to get the image of the small casket out of his mind. His son was fine. But he still had in his mind a picture of the casket. Of the gravestone. Of the crash. And the blood. Chris was fine, but was he? Really?

"Roy, got your pants on. I'll be right back." Johnny headed for the door, pausing only to shove the box with the bloody turnout gear into the bathroom. It would go to the cleaners in the morning, but Roy didn't need to see them again tonight. He ignored Roy's inquiry of why he needed his pants and went into the kitchen.

"Is he okay?" asked Mike as Johnny pulled the door shut behind him.

Four concerned faces turned to Johnny as his station mates worried about Roy. "He's okay now. But I think it was probably about the worst nightmare he could possibly have. Cap, me and Roy are going to go for a ride, with your permission."

"Where are you going?"

Johnny's face couldn't help but twist in sympathy with his friend's pain. "To Roy's house. Let him see his son, maybe hold him for a minute. Then maybe… a distant maybe… He'll be able to sleep again."