A House Divided - Chet's Cataclysm Chapter 11, an emergency fanfic

Warning: Strong language

A House Divided – Chapter 11

Roy eased the squad back into her resting spot beside the engine. He glanced at his watch, noting that it was 0320. "Maybe we can get a little sleep," he mumbled through a yawn. When he got no answer, he cast a sideways glance at his passenger just as his foot tapped the break.

Johnny's head bobbed and his upper torso pitched forward nearly slamming him into the dashboard. "Hmmm, wha?" He asked smacking his dry lips together. His dark eyes peeled open to see his partner's mouth stretched in a very unflattering yawn.

"Yea…me too," he grumbled, slapping around a few times along the door panel in search of the handle.

"Hey, Johnny?"

"Humm?" The sleepy dark haired paramedic groaned.

Roy looked down at the damaged boot in his hand then noted the rest of the turnouts crammed in the middle of the seat of the squad. "I'm gonna put these in my car. I'll need to take 'em to Chet in the mor…I mean, in a little while," he drawled uncharacteristically from exhaustion.

Johnny merely waved his hand in Roy's direction as he made his way around the engine and into the dorm room. He chose to forgo removing his clothes figuring the squad would get toned out again before wake-up klaxons sounded anyway.

In back of the station, Roy tossed the turnouts unceremoniously into the passenger's seat of his Porsche. He then turned around and headed back to the dorm. Once inside, he toed off his shoes and upon seeing Johnny asleep in full uniform, he decided to do the same. He lay down on his bunk and in a matter of seconds he too dozed off, his gentle snores creating a harmony of sorts as they joined with those from the rest of the guys.

Chet tossed restlessly in his recliner. He had decided to sleep there so he could elevate his foot just as Dr. Harrison had advised. Sweat beads popped out along his forehead while he tossed his head from side to side unable to escape the nightmare that had him trapped within its piercing claws.

Once again, he was inside a dark closet listening to his shiftmates ridicule him from outside the door. Roy was taunting him about doing so poorly on the engineer's exam while Johnny threatened to drown him because of all the water bombs the phantom had deployed. Marco chided him about his slow drill times and Mike blasted him for losing his badge so often. In the background was the most frightening voice of all. Hank Stanley could be heard groaning in agony.

"Chester B. Kelly, I depended on you to get him out…you let him die. It's your fault."

Chet hugged his knees to his chest whimpering like a frightened little boy trying to block out the voices. But strong arms reached around him pulling him tightly against a large overpowering unseen chest as a familiar voice rumbled in his ear.

"See, they know you're a failure just like I do, you little bastard!"

Chet tried to calm his heart and control his breathing but his father's words kept echoing inside his head. "I should've known you would turn out like this….I don't know why I even tried."

Chet struggled to draw in a breath with the pressure of his father's strong arms pinning him tightly to the older man's chest. Finally, a choking cough erupted, waking him from the hellish nightmare.

"Arrgh…ahua…," he jumped, blue eyes darting around inside his dark apartment until he realized he was at home and not in the death grips of Charles Kelly.

He ran his sweaty palms down his weary face becoming aware of the pain in his foot throbbing again. He slowly lowered the footrest of his recliner and hobbled over to the table where he'd left his pain medication. He pulled out the navy blue bottle and read the instructions on the white label.

"Take one tablet every four hours with food," he read out loud. He used his thumb to pop off the lid then shook two out into the palm of his hand. Tossing them to the back of his throat, he used furniture and walls to maneuver around until he made his way into his kitchen for a glass of water. As soon as he'd gulped enough to wash down the two white pills, he opened up a cabinet above his refrigerator where he kept his whiskey and finished filling up the glass. The amber liquid was barely diluted by the small amount of water he'd mixed it with then he leaned his head back and took two big gulps.

"Aaaahhh, shit!" He whispered hoarsely in his empty kitchen as soon as he had gotten his breath back. He felt the burn of the whiskey as it rushed down his throat into his empty belly and he gripped the counter tighter and forced his eyes tightly shut. After another round of coughing, he hobbled back into the living room and into his recliner. He continued to sip his whiskey and water for another half hour as he waited for the pain to subside and his frayed nerves to calm down from his nightmare. Between the mixture of alcohol and analgesic, his eyelids began to droop. He set the glass containing the remnants of his whiskey and water on the end table next to the bottle of pain medication. A quick glance at his watch told him it was 0600.

"Maybe I can get a little more sleep now," he muttered to himself pulling the afghan up around his throat and closing his eyes.

Roy heard the tones sounding and assumed they were wake-up tones until he heard the voice of the dispatcher. He pulled himself up seeing Johnny, tufts of dark hair sticking out around his head, rolling out of bed as well.

"Engine 51…trash fire…"

The two paramedics crashed back down on their beds while Mike, Marco and Chet's replacement pulled on their bunkers, snapping their suspenders over their t-shirts and hustled out the door of the dorm.

Hank pushed open the kitchen door, dressed in his t-shirt and bunker pants, to acknowledge the call.

"Engine 51, KMG-365," he said tearing off the slip just as Sam's voice echoed inside the bay.

"Time out, 0600."

Mike made a mental note of where his captain had been at the time the tones sounded. He hoped that the older man hadn't been up all night.

What seemed like only seconds later, wake-up tones sounded pulling Roy and Johnny out of a dead sleep. Roy was the first to make it to the radio and acknowledge the call.

"Hmmmph, I thought for sure we'd be called out again."

Roy looked at Johnny who was trying to tame his unruly hair with only his fingers. "Yea…me too."

"Let's get some coffee going. I'm sure the guys are gonna need it when they get back." With that, Johnny pushed open the dorm door and made his way to the kitchen.

Roy didn't follow his partner, opting instead for the locker room. He had learned a long time ago that brushing his teeth was a pretty good way to fight lack of sleep. It seemed to wake him up even more than coffee. He stepped passed Chet's locker then backed up. Feeling like a snitch, he opened it up to see if he could find Chet's van keys. At least then they could explain why Johnny had come along with Roy to change Chet's dressing. He groped around inside the locker but found no keys. "Well, we can do it later," he mumbled to himself as he pulled open his own locker and removed his toiletry bag.

By the time Roy pushed open the door of the kitchen, Johnny had the room smelling of percolating coffee. "Smells good."

Johnny was sitting at the table with his chin propped in the palm of his hand. "Maybe it'll wake me up."

"You sure you're up for this?" Roy asked with concern in his voice.

"For what? Coffee?"

Roy smirked, pulling a couple of cups down out of the cabinet. "No, going over to Chet's place."

Johnny leaned back in his chair with a huff. "Yea…we gotta do somethin'."

"This probably won't be pretty, you know?" Roy needed to know that Johnny was truly up for the task that lay ahead.

"I know…and I know what you're thinkin'." He looked up at his partner who was now leaning against the cabinet. "You're thinkin' me and Chet'll get into some kind of altercation. Well, don't." He returned his eyes to the top of the table. "'Cause this ain't gonna be my first rodeo."

Roy gulped as he took in Johnny's words. Obviously, his friend had dealt with difficult people before but Roy sensed that Johnny was talking about someone very close to him who had been in a similar situation.

"Ok…coffee's ready," he said turning to pour the two of them a cup.

Time seemed to have stopped moving while the two men waited for shift change. Both silently hoped that they wouldn't be called out as they wanted to get to Chet's apartment as soon as they could. Both men had heavy hearts, both for the loss of Paramedic Carrigan and for Chet's circumstance but neither man felt able to discuss it with the other and so, in silence, they waited and watched the clock.

Finally, when their replacements arrived and they each changed into their street clothes, they headed out to their respective vehicles. As they walked across the back lot, they heard Mike backing the engine inside the bay.

"That took a while for a trash fire," Roy mused.

"Musta been more to it once they got there."

Roy looked over at his partner. "Yea…we know what it's like to be surprised on a run, don't we?"

"That we do," Johnny groaned opening up his rover's door. "I'll follow you," he called over to Roy then reached above the visor for his sunglasses.

Roy waved his acknowledgement then backed his Porsche out of its usual spot behind the station. As they both turned right onto 223rd street, the duo waved goodbye to Mike who was stepping down out of the engine pulling off his turnout coat.

Roy slowed to a crawl as he drove over the speed breaker along the street in front of Chet's apartment. He glanced in his rearview mirror and smiled as he saw Johnny take it at full speed then bounce around inside his white land rover. He made the turn into Chet's apartment complex then found a parking spot where he waited for Johnny to pull up beside him.

Johnny saw the look on Roy's face and knew the man was dreading the upcoming confrontation. Truthfully, he was dreading it too but he also felt a small sense of peace because finally they were going to do something besides watch their friend spiral downwards.

Roy pulled out the pile of turnouts and the bag of supplies Sally had given him. Then together, he and Johnny walked up the stairs to the second floor. As soon as they found the right door, Johnny knocked and the two paramedics stood anxiously waiting for the door to open.

Marco and Mike both decided to shower before they went over to Chet's apartment. They both smelled of smoke plus the shower would wake them up a little as well. As soon as that task was accomplished, they hurriedly packed their duffle bags.

Marco was familiar enough with Chet's habits that he knew where the younger man kept his car keys. He retrieved them from their hiding place on the hook inside his locker, grabbed Chet's duffle bag and walked out behind his engineer. Neither man spoke of the upcoming confrontation; both silently playing over and over in their minds how they were going to tackle the topic.

Johnny looked at Roy with concern etched on his face. He turned back to the dark apartment door and knocked again for the third time. "C'mon, Chet…open up."

Roy dropped his load of turnouts and knocked. "Chet, it's Roy…gotta check on that foot," he called out hoping they weren't disturbing Chet's neighbor's.

After what seemed like an eternity, they heard some movement inside the apartment. Both men breathed a collective sigh of relief. But no one answered the door.

Inside the small dwelling, Chet's groggy brain finally registered the knocking on his front door. He got up and hobbled over scrunching up his face to look through his peep hole. Upon seeing and hearing the voice of his nemesis, he refused to open the door. He stumbled over to his sofa and plopped down on it, dizziness and nausea hitting him in waves. "What the…?" Finally, once those waves of discomfort subsided, he pulled back the curtain and cracked open the window just enough to speak to the paramedic duo.

"Hey…whatcha doin', man?" His voice sounding a bit slurred even to him.

Roy and Johnny spun to their left following the sound of Chet's voice.

"We're here to change that dressing, remember?"

Chet squinted his eyes at the morning sun shining in his window. "Nooope," he drawled out.

"C'mon, Chet. Let us take a look at ya." Johnny pleaded.

"What for? I a'ready know I'm not fit for duty so ya got nothin' to go bitch to Cap 'bout."

Roy and Johnny exchanged knowing looks. They could tell by Chet's voice that he was not well but they had no idea how to get him to allow them entry into his apartment. Finally, Roy stepped closer and kneeled down beside the open window. "Come on, Chet. You're going to get me in trouble with that new intern at Rampart. Now, I told him I'd change your dressing and that's why I'm here." Roy hoped his soft soothing voice would calm the agitated man.

"Screw 'im!"

Johnny stepped over then. "We're not leavin' 'till you let us in. Don't want your neighbor's callin' the cops now do ya?"

"Ha…jokes on you, Gage. They're all workin' or at school. Jus' how I like it. Now…get da hell off my doorstep."

Roy could tell the situation was deteriorating quickly. He knew they needed to get inside to check on their friend and he briefly considered calling for a squad. But the idea quickly left him. He knew that in the long run it might make matters even worse. As long as Chet was talking then they knew his airway wasn't compromised and he was conscious and alert on at least a minimal level.

"Chet…what've you taken?"

"Huh?" Chet looked up at Roy and saw the seriousness in his eyes.

"You're slurring your words so you've taken something. What was it?" Roy was beginning to move from concerned friend to panicky paramedic and he knew he needed to get as much information as he could while Chet was talking; he just hoped that the information he was given wasn't another lie. "Did Dr. Harrison give you something or did you take something on your own?"

"None o' ya business…you ain't my damn doctor," Chet said with more than a hint of anger in his voice.

"No…but I am your friend. Let me in so I can help you." Roy pleaded; his voice remaining calm. He could sense Johnny pacing behind him but was glad that at the moment the young man was staying out of Chet's line of vision.

"Yea, right. Screw you too, DeSoto. I don't have any friends anymore. I don't have nobody. I don't even know who the hell I am. So quit wastin' your time and just do what I tol' ya. Leave!"

"You know we can get in don't you? I mean, we've broken down plenty of doors in emergencies…," Roy began but was interrupted by a now shouting Chet.

"Humph…if ya do, I'm callin' the fuzz!"

"I think that might be a really good idea, Chet." Roy looked up at his partner then back at their shiftmate. "I think you should call the cops and tell them that two guys are trying to break into your apartment. They'll be here in no time."

Even through the haziness of Chet's brain, he understood what Roy meant. If he called the police, then they would arrive to find two L.A. County paramedics trying to gain entry into an apartment for a medical emergency. If that happened, then Johnny and Roy would get permission to break down the door. And there would be nothing Chet could do to stop them.

"GO….AWAY, damn you, DeSoto. I got 'nough pro'lems without havin' to replace a freakin' busted door. So, jus' go play super heroes to so'body who needs ya. So'body worth helpin'." With those last words, he slammed the window shut.

Roy turned around to see his partner eyeing up the locking mechanism on the door then taking a couple of steps backwards. "Don't, Johnny."

"Whatcha mean, don't? We gotta get in there!" Johnny's ire had risen exponentially as he had listened to the conversation between Chet and Roy play out.

"We can't just go breaking in doors," Roy reasoned.

"Then why'd ya just tell him we would?" Johnny propped both hands on his hips exasperatedly.

"I didn't say we would, I said we could. I was just trying to get him to let us in." Roy explained returning to a standing position.

Johnny spun around leaning both hands against the railing as he stared into the parking lot, blood pressure rising. Then he saw a sight that finally brought a slight grin to his face. "Roy?"

"Yea?"

"The cavalry just arrived."

Mike turned his pick-up truck into the parking lot of Chet's apartment complex followed closely by Marco driving Chet's volkswagon van. He saw the dark cedar stained wood siding and immediately looked at the eaves. They too were stained cedar…not newly scraped and painted as Chet had told him. He shook his head negatively as he remembered the sincerity in the lineman's voice when he'd told Mike about being tired from working for his landlady. He remembered how something just didn't add up about that statement and now as he pulled into a parking spot beside Roy's Porsche, he was looking at the reason why. He just wished that he'd remembered while he and Chet were actually having the conversation then maybe all this could have been avoided.

Marco pulled Chet's van into his usual parking spot then got out. He looked up and saw John Gage leaning against the railing with Roy knocking on Chet's door behind him. "Wonder why they're here?"

Mike looked up noting the obvious relief on Johnny's face and fear gripped his heart squeezing it with icy cold fingers. "I don't know….but it probably isn't for a game of poker."

Mike saw Johnny quickly waving them up and he and Marco took the stairs two at a time. When they rounded the corner, they saw both paramedics with worried expressions on their faces.

"He won't let us in and he's taken something." Roy spat out the words as if they were on a run.

"I can get us in," Marco said holding up Chet's key ring. There were several keys on the metallic circle with the fire department emblem and it took a few tries to find the right one. Once he did, he clicked the lock on the doorknob and then shoved the key into the deadbolt lock above it wiggling it until he heard the clicking sound they were all listening for.

Inside the apartment, Chet was seething. He heard Marco's voice telling the others that he could get the door open and he heard the keys twisting inside the lock. "Damn them all to hell…," he groaned through clenched teeth. His respirations increased and he began to shake with anger; his heart slamming around inside his chest like a caged animal desperately searching for a route of escape. He felt as if he were being violated and smothered at the same time. If they came inside his apartment then they weren't respecting his privacy or him as a man. He couldn't let them inside his apartment any more than he could let them inside his personal nightmare; the thing that he himself hadn't even known until a few months ago. No, he couldn't allow his innermost secret to be exposed…not to anybody but especially not to these guys. He had struggled to severe the close ties he'd once felt with them opting instead for a more casual relationship. He crawled over to the recliner where he'd left his crutches and clutched one as if it were a weapon. His sweaty fingers wrapped around the handgrip while he pinned the arm pad against his shoulder as if it were a gunstock. He's spent time in the military and he knew how to fight. He also knew he was outnumbered so the element of surprise was his only chance at defeating them. He stumbled over to the sofa beside the door where he'd have the perfect angle on the man he once called his friend. Now, in Chet's mind he was merely an intruder…his home, his privacy, even his soul felt as if it were being invaded and he was determined to protect it. He assumed a defensive stance, repositioned his fingers around the handgrip and waited for the squeaking sound of his opening front door.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has left reviews and sent me PM's. You've really encouraged my muse to work overtime. I truly appreciate it.