A House Divided - Chet's Cataclysm Chapter 20, an emergency fanfic

Warning: strong language

A House Divided – Chet's Cataclysm

Chapter 20

Hank awoke with a start, heart pounding and perspiration sliding down from his temples. He ran a hand down his face staring out into the darkness of the bedroom he shared with his wife of nearly twenty years. That is, he used to share with his wife. He reached over feeling the coldness of the sheets on her side of the bed and whispered a curse into his pillow. It had happened again. He turned back over facing his alarm clock and realized that he might as well get up. The alarm would be going off in half an hour anyway and after the sudden awakening he'd experienced, he knew he wouldn't be going back to sleep any time soon.

He showered and shaved then put on his blue uniform. He hoped that getting back into the routine would improve his situation. He set about packing up his duffle bag with the clothing he would need for the next twenty-four hours. He kept a toiletry bag in his locker so all he really needed was clean underclothing and socks, extra uniforms and an extra pair of shoes. He remembered how Roy had made a squishing sound walking around the station after he was accidentally knocked into a swimming pool on an attempted suicide run. He couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips as he thought about Johnny laughing at the irritating sound. Ever since that day, each man on A-shift had always maintained an extra pair of shoes in his locker during his shift. Hank took one last look in the mirror to make sure he would pass inspection should Chief McConnike decide to make an impromptu visit then gathered up his duffle bag and walked out of the bedroom.

He quietly opened the door of the guest bedroom and for a moment listened to her gentle snores. He hated that she felt the need to seek refuge in their guest room but he had to admit that he didn't blame her, not really. He slowly pulled the door closed listening for the clicking sound that let him know it was completely shut then headed down the hallway and out the front door.

The morning was just beginning to come alive and he deeply inhaled the cool air. He looked at his black sedan; the early morning sun barely peeking above the horizon was reflected in the windshield. The colors would have seemed beautiful to anyone else but to Hank, the windshield seemed to be reflecting a blaze that made his blood run cold. He quickly shook the thought from his head. He had to keep himself together or the first run involving a structure fire was going to send him over the edge of the slippery slope he was teetering on.

He reached his long fingers beneath the door handle opening it and slinging his bag into the passenger's seat. He glanced at his watch realizing he would be much earlier than usual but that would give him time to review what happened on C-shift. Plus, if Captain Hookraider wanted to leave a little early then that was fine by him. He turned the key in the ignition and backed out of the driveway.

Chet rolled over in bed, slapping at the offending noise of his alarm clock. He raised himself up on his elbows looking around his bedroom trying to reorient himself. This was it; the day he had to make his final appearance at Station 51. He'd gotten home late the previous night and had simply crawled into bed, exhausted from the drive. Now, he forced himself out of bed and into the shower. He had to make himself presentable because as soon as he left the station he needed to start looking for another job.

By the time he'd finished his shower and gotten dressed he looked at the clock and chuckled to himself. "Not today, Kelly…no more latrine duty for being the last one to arrive for shift." He walked out of his bedroom and into his small living room where he saw his duffle bag still sitting on the floor where it had been sitting since his last shift. "Humph," he sarcastically uttered. He hadn't known at the time that the last shift he had worked was actually going to be his last shift. If he had known, would he have done anything differently? He contemplated how he had treated his brothers the following morning when they came by to check on him and mentally chastised himself. He felt like the worst excuse for a friend there had ever been not to mention the most pitiful excuse for a firefighter ever. These thoughts reconfirmed that he was absolutely doing the right thing. Now all he had to do was drive over to 51's and accept whatever harsh response his captain and shift mates were going to have for his sudden resignation. "Former shift mates, Chet," he said, wincing as he stepped down on the first stair a little too hard on his sore right foot. "They're no longer your shift mates."

Across the small yard between the buildings, Caroline Marks was doing her morning stretching exercises when she noticed the curly haired fireman making his way down the stairs and across the lawn to his van. She smiled, feeling the usual twinge in her lower back as she bent back down towards her toes once more. She thought of Corrie still asleep and felt the warmth in her heart spread. This was the day they would go to Station 51 and properly thank the men; especially the man she now knew as Firefighter Chester Kelly.

As Hank neared the intersection of Avalon Blvd and East 223rd street, he heard sirens. He kept his foot on the break, anxiously watching as Squad and Engine 51 passed through. "Stay safe, fellas," he whispered to himself inside the car. Because of the passing of the emergency vehicles, he had to sit through another red light then as the light turned green he made the turn onto East 223rd and was soon pulling into his familiar parking spot behind the station. A part of him was a bit relieved that he would have a few minutes alone to review what he'd missed from the previous shift and to mentally prepare for his first full shift since that horrific night.

The combined smells of equipment, concrete and the fresh java formed a unique and welcoming scent. He poured himself a cup of the steaming hot liquid then headed straight for the captain's office. Pulling back the rolling olive green desk chair, he took a seat while his eyes scanned the desktop. Nothing appeared unusual so he reached into the mail bin with the words "STANLEY" on the label in bold black letters. He withdrew a couple of memos and a small card in a white envelope with the name "Carrigan" in the upper left corner and the words "STATION 51" in the middle. His hands trembled as he stared down at the name that had come to haunt him both day and night. His mouth seemed to go dry; a dryness that hot black coffee couldn't quench. Adrenaline coursed through his veins wreaking havoc on his central nervous system. His heart rate increased slamming the organ around like an out of control rubber ball and he began to sweat profusely as his respirations increased rapidly. He felt his fingers and tongue begin to tingle and knew he had to stop what was happening before he hyperventilated. He shoved the envelope into his shirt pocket while standing and walking around inside the empty apparatus bay. After a couple of laps inside the small space, he stepped inside the kitchen and picked up a tall glass from the cabinet beside the sink as he turned on the cool water. Slowly, he drank the entire glassful of water, grateful that the human body could not breathe and swallow at the same time. After the second glassful, his breathing rate had dropped enough that the tingling disappeared.

Carefully, he withdrew the envelope from his shirt pocket, leery of what the contents might hold. He licked his dry lips as he peeled back the flap and read the scripted gold lettering on the outside.

"THANK YOU"

He silently read the contents of the simple card. The words had been penned by Kyle Carrigan's father telling the crews from the station how much he appreciated all they had done to try to save his son and thanking the men for their acts of kindness in the days that followed. Hank closed the card and replaced it inside the envelope. He decided he would circulate it during roll call, being unable to read it out loud to his men. He then returned to his office to review the remaining mail when he heard the sound of his engineer's pick-up pulling into the back parking lot. He hesitated, sipping his coffee just outside the kitchen door as he waited for Mike to make his entrance.

"Morning, Cap," Mike called out before he'd gotten inside the apparatus bay.

"Morning, Stoker."

Mike completed the distance across the back concrete lot then stepped inside the shadows of the station. That's when he noticed just how pale his captain was and knew immediately that he must have read the letter Chet had left. "You, ah…you ok?"

"Yea," Hank mumbled into his coffee cup.

"You read it, didn't you?"

Hank could only nod his head affirmatively. "Yea…it really got to me. I'll be passing it around during roll call. It's meant for all of us and I don't think I can manage to read it out loud." He turned his back on his engineer and walked beside the brick wall returning to his office as Mike stepped into the locker room to deposit his personal effects into his locker. The sooner he did that the sooner he could grab a cup of coffee and spend a few minutes trying to cheer up the man who was not only his mentor but also his friend.

Marco reached into his back seat and retrieved his extra uniforms and duffle bag for the shift that was about to begin. He had tried calling Chet several times yesterday but to no avail. He hoped that perhaps one of the other guys would have information on their crew mate's whereabouts. He waved a hand in Roy's direction as the paramedic pulled up in his gold colored Porsche. He hesitated, waiting for Roy to get out so they could walk in together. He also had an ulterior motive.

"Good morning, DeSoto."

"Hey Marco…heard anything from that partner of yours?"

Marco's heart sank into his shoes at Roy's innocent question. Without realizing it, Roy had just confirmed that he didn't have any news on the wayward lineman either. "No…I was hoping maybe one of you fellas knew something."

Roy stopped walking; his worried eyes penetrated Marco's defenses. "No…no I haven't heard anything and I don't think John has either."

Marco stared down at his feet; the clean uniforms hanging from his fingers suddenly seeming to weight him down. "Damn," he swore, uncharacteristically. "Have you talked to Stoker?"

"Not since the funeral. Why?" Roy was getting the feeling that Marco knew more than he was telling.

"Chet left Cap a letter right before he collapsed. Mike said it hadn't been opened so the episode Cap had probably wasn't related to its contents but…Mike thinks Chet may be resigning."

Johnny wheeled his Rover into the station next. He quickly hopped out, tossing his aviator sunglasses carelessly onto the seat then grabbing his uniforms and duffle bag. He slammed the door with much more force than was necessary. With his head bowed down, he charged hurriedly towards the locker room obviously avoiding eye contact with his perplexed crew mates.

"Good morning, Gage." Marco looked at Roy with a questioning look on his face as he waited for a response from the elusive young man.

"Mornin'," Johnny mumbled.

"Hold it, Junior!" Roy's words stopped Johnny dead in his tracks.

The dark haired paramedic tossed the fleshly dry cleaned uniforms over his left shoulder throwing his head back with an exasperated sigh.

"Whatcha need?"

"Just wondering what's going on with you this morning. Something wrong?"

"Nope, just need to get ready for shift. Do ya mind?" Johnny asked; his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Yea, actually," Roy began as he and Marco sauntered over to the place where Johnny stood with his back to them. "So, who is she and what'd she do to you this time?"

"Nothin', Roy. I didn't even have a date so just…lemme get dressed." Johnny could feel the heat of his crew mates stares as they got closer to him.

"Whoa, what the hell happened to you?" Roy stood stunned looking at his partner.

"Yea, Gage. That looks serious," Marco added.

"'s not as bad as it looks," Johnny said trying to play off the bruise.

Roy tentatively reached out carefully pulling back the tan collar on his partner's shirt exposing a very bruised area along Johnny's lower neck. Roy whistled loudly. "That's quite a hickie she left on you!"

Johnny cut his dark eyes at Roy squinting coldly as he swatted his partner's hand away from his sore neck. "'s not a hickie."

"You're right, Gage. It's a bite mark," Marco said with surprise in his voice.

"I know, I know," Johnny retorted in frustration.

"Seriously, what kind of girl did you go out with last night?" Roy asked curiously.

"I didn't," Johnny said flatly. "I pulled some OT over at 85's yesterday and I… uh, we hada bad run durin' the night. Mind if I get dressed now?" Johnny headed hurriedly into the locker room before his shift mates had a chance to stop him.

Roy and Marco looked at each other shrugging just as Mike stepped through the kitchen doorway blowing on his cup of coffee.

"He'll need to put a bandage on that during shift or he'll scare our victims," Roy chuckled as he and Marco walked over to greet their engineer.

Mike propped one hand on his hip then took a sip of his coffee. "What's up with him?" He asked, leaning his back against the brick as he shifted his weight to one foot.

Roy looked casually over his shoulder at the door where his young partner had retreated, then returned his attention to Mike, shaking his head slightly. "Some chick planted one on his neck. They must've really been, uh…amorous last night," he chuckled.

"More like violent, DeSoto." Marco shifted his gaze to his snickering engineer. "She left teeth marks on his neck!"

Mike contorted his face in mock agony. "Ouch! Is she into that…uh, whatcha call it?"

"S and M?" Roy asked, bashfully.

"Yea…weird," Mike responded. "Gage can sure pick'em can't he?"

Suddenly a loud crashing sound followed by a string of expletives that would seem shameful to even the most hardened sailor exploded around the inside of the captains office. Mike raised his shoulders up to ear level then set his coffee cup on the radio. The three men moved as one to the closed captain's door but it was Mike who finally knocked softly.

"Come in!" The shout sounded more like an order rather than a response to a nonverbal request.

"What's wrong?" Mike asked, surveying the coffee splattered along the wall.

"What happened, Cap?" Roy asked before Hank had a chance to answer Mike's question.

Marco listened intently as he bent down and picked up the three pieces of what was once a coffee cup.

"I can't believe that twit is doing this," Captain Stanley said in a calmer voice as he thrust the crumpled piece of paper towards his engineer.

Mike read the short resignation letter to the other men standing around him then dropped his hand to his side, laying the letter back on Hank's desk. "How can he do this?"

"Mike, it's his life. He can do whatever he wants but…," Roy began but was quickly interrupted by Marco.

"But he's making a rash decision about this whole thing. We're all upset about Carrigan but fellas, Chet was the one who brought him out and I think maybe he's blaming himself for the guy not making it."

Hank rubbed his eyes with his thumb and fingers. "Yea well…it sure as hell isn't Kelly's fault."

"It isn't yours either, Cap," Mike offered in his soft spoken voice.

The two men locked eyes for a moment allowing the silent communication to occur without the others seeing it. Hank couldn't disagree more with his engineer but now wasn't the time to get into it.

"Well, we'll just have to talk to him…talk him out of doing it," Marco announced.

Hank looked back down rereading the letter and noticing the additional lines written at the bottom of the page. "Can't do that, Lopez. Read the rest of it." Hank watched his lineman's expressive face as he silently read the remaining words. When Marco's stunned eyes met those of his captain, Hank spoke. "If that's true then…he's in a hell of a lot of trouble."

"What for?" Johnny asked, immediately assuming the last few words he'd overheard were directed at him. "I told them it happened when I was working over time."

"What?" Hank asked in an irritated voice spinning his chair around to face his younger paramedic. His red-rimmed hazel eyes bugged out when he saw the wound on Johnny's neck. "Shit, Gage!"

Johnny immediately threw his left hand up to the side of his neck to try to cover the evidence. "Oh, it's nothing, Cap."

"Like hell," Hank responded pressing the heels of his hands against the arm rests, raising up his lanky body to his full height of six feet four inches. He pulled the light blue shirt collar away from Johnny's neck then stood staring at him. When Johnny didn't remove his hand, Hank cleared his throat. "Ahem."

Johnny rolled his eyes as he acquiesced to the unspoken command allowing his hand to drop back down to his side. His adams apple bobbed as he struggled to swallow under the scrutiny of his captain's judgmental glare.

"I don't know what you young fellas like about that funny stuff you're doing these days but I'll be damned if I'd ever let a woman injure me when we're being romantic." Hank released Johnny's shirt collar feeling the heat of his own blush rising.

"Sir, it wasn't like that see," Johnny tried to explain but was quickly cut off by his superior.

"Oh, I see, Gage…believe me, I see. Now what you do on your own time is your business but you can't come to work looking like you tried to have sex with a crocodile!"

Chet pulled up in front of the station, careful not to park near the front entrance. He didn't feel right about parking in the back parking lot as that was reserved for members of the department; he no longer qualified for parking in the rear of the station. His mouth had gotten dry with nervousness so he picked up the can of coca cola he'd purchased on his way into the station. His feet felt like lead as he trudged up, realizing that C-shift was on a run which meant his former crew members would be getting ready for roll call. He inhaled deeply, blowing out his cheeks as he shoved his free hand into his back pocket and walked up to the open captain's door. He heard the raised voice of Hank Stanley and surmised that his nemesis had somehow managed to get himself in trouble prior to roll call. He gulped a large swallow of the cold dark soda when he heard a phrase that made him stumble over his own feet and sent the carbonated beverage down his airway.

Caroline cast a quick glance at the passenger's seat and saw the most heart-warming face smiling back at her. "We're almost there, sweetheart," she said, returning her eyes to the road as she made the turn onto East 223rd Street. Two blocks later, she pulled the green station wagon into the spot behind the van she recognized. "Oh this is perfect. He's here for sure," she mumbled shifting into park only to realize that the apparatus bay was empty. She tried to hide her disappointment as she decided to wait a little while hoping the crew would return. She rolled down her window allowing the fresh breeze to soothe her nervousness when she happened to see a group of men dressed in blue shirts move into the empty bay quickly. "Oh, look they're here!"

She quickly opened up her door and ran around the back of the car until she reached the passenger's side door. She opened it, making sure that Corrie's outfit and hair were smoothed into place then grasped the smaller hand and began walking up the concrete apron with her purse swinging over her shoulder and the brightest smile she could manage planted firmly on her pretty face.

"Ahua…argh...aauugh," Chet wheezed stumbling into the door with his back and sliding down it slowly. He felt as if he were drowning in soda and for all intents and purposes, he realized he actually was. He couldn't believe he had heard Captain Stanley accusing Johnny of having sex with a crocodile. He leaned forward covering his mouth and nose with his hands as coca cola poured from both orifices. "Fu..uhau…arugh," he continued, squeezing his blue eyes shut as the burning in his nose continued. He felt two sets of hands reaching out for him and knew immediately that the ministering hands belonged to Roy and Johnny.

"Easy, Chet….what happened?" Johnny questioned.

Chet finally lifted his teary eyes to look into the face of John Gage and was stunned by the large bite mark along his neck. "Ahua…Gage…ahua, hua…you…ahua…ahem, really did, aarrgh, didn'tcha?"

"Did what?" Johnny asked, puzzled by the red-faced wheezing man. Then Johnny put his hand over the left side of his neck. "Oh…bad run over at 85's…are you ok?"

Hank watched as his paramedics thoroughly assessed Chet. He had a lot of questions to ask the young man but he wanted to wait until the Irishman could breathe clearly before the interrogation began. Then he heard a young female voice call out.

"Excuse me…hello?"

Hank and the rest of the crew looked up and smiled at the young woman with her toddler in tow. "Hello ma'am…can we help you?"

"Hi Ms. Marks," Mike offered, recognizing the young woman from her previous visit.

Chet looked up, rubbing his eyes to dry the tears caused by his near fatal encounter with a can of soda. He looked at first the woman who was smiling at him and then down at the child beside her. He had a good view of the precocious face grinning at him as he was still seated and at eye level with the little tyke. Then, his pale blue eyes widened with recognition and his mouth dropped open. For once in his life, Chet was speechless as the memories flooded his soul.

A/N: Once again, I want to thank you for reading this story. We are very near the end and I truly appreciate all the support, encouragement and corrections you've provided through your PM's and reviews. Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts with me.