Johnny sat on his heels just outside the back of the station. He felt cold, except for his back, which pressed against the wall that had been warmed by the sun all day. As he looked over the parking lot, all he saw were weeds and a rusty tin can up against the far wall. He didn't see the flowers valiantly pushing up through the cracks in the pavement. Didn't see the orange, pink and purple hues of a spectacular sunset. Didn't hear the birds singing on the wall as dusk approached. Didn't hear the wind rustling the leaves on the trees. Didn't smell the perfume of orange blossoms carried on the gentle breeze.
When Cap called him in to dinner, he obeyed on automatic pilot. Sat at the table with the rest of his shiftmates. Ate a few bites without tasting anything. Afterwards he sat on a chair and watched 'I Love Lucy,' with everyone else. Why did he ever think the show was funny? Nothing was funny. He was encased in stone. He was dead, and no one told his body.
Johnny stood next to the bed in the dorm, motionless, eyes unfocused, unmindful of the sheet he clutched in his hand. Remembering.
Mike started to walk through the doorway, but stopped when he saw Johnny standing there, and as the other man did not seem to notice him, he quietly backed away. Mike waited outside the door for a few moments. This was not the first time he had observed Johnny in such a state. It seemed to happen fairly frequently as of late, such as during meals, during conversation, in the middle of a mundane task, such as polishing the squad. The paramedic would be there one minute and gone the next. It wasn't a real obvious thing and possibly no one else remarked on it, but as a silent participant of station life, Mike didn't miss much. As far as he knew, Johnny had never spaced out on a run. If Mike had considered it a hazard, he would have said something to Cap. He waited until he heard the sound of movement in the dorm before going in.
The lid of the frying pan fell to the floor and slid under the table with a clatter after Marco set it down on the edge of the counter. Johnny, who had been studying a manual at the table, jumped at the sound.
"Sorry. It's just the lid. It slipped off the counter." Marco leaned down to pick it up, using Johnny's shoulder for balance as he reached under the table. He let go as soon as he felt the paramedic flinch at his touch and wobbled a bit, cracking his head on the table on the way back up.
"You okay?" asked Johnny.
"Yeah," Marco replied, rubbing his head and wincing.
"You want me to take a look?"
"Nah. It's okay." Marco turned back to the stovetop to finish the dinner preparations.
Cap walked back and forth in front of the men doing the knot drills. He frowned as he watched Johnny. Normally the paramedic was the first one done and his knots always looked the best. Today, he seemed to be all thumbs. A Cub Scout could do better. The glare Johnny bestowed on the rope should have made it spontaneously combust in his hands. "Nice work, Roy. Try it again, John." Cap continued down the line with his hands clasped behind his back. "The sheepshank man'o'war is a great knot for shortening a rope or relieving the stress on a worn part of rope."
Johnny had worked five days in a row. He thought if he were really busy, he wouldn't remember so much. But it didn't seem to matter what he activity he pursued, whether it be eating, sleeping, watching TV, or working. No matter what he did, the memories just kept coming back at the oddest times, in the middle of doing other things. The only exception seemed to be when on a rescue that required his full attention, when he focused completely on the task at hand. The remembering didn't seem to happen then.
He sat down tiredly on the sofa in the break room. In addition to the flashbacks, he still found it hard to surrender to sleep at night. And when he finally did fall asleep, too often he would dream about things he did not want to dream about. Today, he felt so exhausted that he began to drift off where he sat, listening to the sounds made by the rest of his shiftmates as they talked and moved around the room, hearing someone tune in the television to the six-o'clock news. His limbs felt leaden, his blood like molasses. He considered going to the dorm to lie down, but the languor cocooned him and held him to the sofa with silken threads in that hazy state between waking and sleeping.
Adrenaline snapped the threads as panic surged through him when someone sat down next to him on the sofa. He fairly sprung from the sofa and glanced wildly around the room. 'Like from zero to fifty,' he thought disjointedly, echoing the phrase from the commercial that had just been on television. Marco gave him a cursory glance and then returned his attention to the news. Oh, great. Marco had seen that. Like, how could he not notice? Heart pounding and mouth dry, Johnny started into the kitchen for a drink of water, then thought better of it when he saw Roy preparing chicken for dinner. He didn't want to add puking to the little display he was putting on for the rest of the crew. "I'm going to lie down in the dorm, Cap," he said as he headed out the door.
Cap followed him into the engine bay. "John!"
He turned around. "Yes?"
"How many straight shifts have you worked, Pal?"
"Uh, five."
"Way too many. You take these next two days off, hear? That's an order."
"Okay." He started to turn away.
"Gage."
"Yes?"
"I can't baby-sit you, pal. I have to think about the whole station. We're too busy. There's too much at stake. You've got to tell me if you can't handle it."
"Have you got a problem with the way I'm doing my job?"
Cap's eyebrows raised at the tone of the question. "Not with the way you're doing the job. No.. But, I have to admit, the way you act is beginning to worry me. I'm getting close to recommending you for a psych eval."
"Yes, sir. I'll take care of it. Sir."
Upon reaching the sanctuary of the dorm, he lay down on his bunk, with his arm flung up over his eyes. He would have to work harder at acting less crazy. There was absolutely no way he would talk about any of this with anyone he knew. He'd quit, first. He listened to the sounds of the station until he fell asleep.
Roy finished putting the meal on the table and looked around. "Where's Johnny?"
"In the dorm. He's probably sleeping. Let him rest. He looks really beat… uh, tired."
The other four looked at Cap; everyone paused in the act of sitting down at the table.
"He's still having a hard time with that." Chet stated the obvious.
Cap looked at his men. "Okay. Sit down. You guys have been really patient with him, and I appreciate it. I did talk with Dr. Wilson and he pretty much confirmed everything Roy told us. So, basically, what he needs is time and space. Just keep doing what you've always done. I do think he's getting better."
"It's taking a long time."
"Yeah. Well, I guess it takes as long as it takes. Are you all still okay with working with him? If you're not, I gotta know."
No one said anything for a few seconds. "So, can I resurrect the Phantom now?"
"This is not the time for a prank war, Chet. If the Phantom cannot control himself, make sure it's the garden-variety kind of stuff. And I'm not talking snakes. Okay. Any other comments?" Cap looked around the table. When no one said anything, he rubbed his hands together and said, "Let's eat."
"Uh, sorry." Johnny flushed as he realized he had just been lost in space while hanging hose with Mike.
"You know, I don't talk a lot. But I am good at listening. If you ever want to talk..."
"Thanks, Mike. I appreciate it."
The pair worked in silence for a few moments longer. "Uh, Mike?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you still training for that marathon?"
"Yes. You want to start again?"
"No. I'm too out of shape now. I was just asking." Actually, he did want to start running again, but fear prevented him from doing it. He still had nightmares about Barnes chasing after him and he knew he could never run in the park again. He also feared running, or doing anything else, outside by himself, where he would be an easy target for Barnes.
"Are you sure? You're not exactly a sofa slug."
Johnny smiled, but didn't laugh. "No. I don't want to do it anymore."