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(Just curious, Did anybody notice the theme I have going with hands, Jenny's hand cut, John's hand extending out of the melted ooze, John's hand still visible from the dumpster, John's hand over the side of the bed, now John's hands cut . . .???)
OK, As promise, more Johnny in this one anmd it's a long chapter. Things are getting a little rougher but hold on, it's only just the starting of the end!!
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The night stayed quiet but Roy got little sleep. He wasn't pestered by the dreams, for once, but everything that he'd witnessed over the last 72 hours just seemed to swirl around in his mind, leaving him confused and exhausted. When the wake-up tones finally went off, he was grateful to put an end to the charade and get up. He made it a point to avoid his shiftmates. When the others headed toward the kitchen and locker room, he stayed in the dorm. Once he heard them head into the kitchen, he entered the locker room and sat for a long time just staring into his locker. Finally, he stumbled into the kitchen after dressing, grabbed a cup of coffee and once more sat staring at the table top before him. Cap's voice startled him as he entered the kitchen and called, "Kent? Can I see you in my office?"
Marc nodded and stood slowly. Roy instinctively knew the other man was trying to catch his eye so he kept his head bowed. With an exaggerated sigh, Marc left the room but as he passed, he put his hand on Roy's shoulder and squeezed. Muffled noises came from around the room and Roy could almost feel the animosity toward him from the engine crew.
Over loudly, Chet suddenly spoke up. "Hey! After our relief gets here, I'm gonna head over and see Johnny. Who wants to go with me?"
"I'll go," Mike's voice came next. "What about you, Marco?"
"I promised Momma I'd come home and get her first. She's probably been up most of the night, praying for him and lighting candles. We'll attend morning mass then head over." Marco's voice said. There was a long pause then Roy heard Mike's voice again. "Roy? What about you? You want to join us in seeing your partner?"
Although Mike's voice was quiet and held no recrimination, Roy winced never-the-less. His mind raced for a plausible excuse, any excuse even, but before he could so much as open his mouth the silence was shattered by the sound of Cap's office door being slammed open. As one, they stood and headed toward the bay, watching as Marc Kent stormed by, his face twisted into a mask of rage. He stopped suddenly as he saw them there, his former anger warring on his face with an attempt to look nonplussed. Finally he managed an odd grin. "Hey. Nice working with you guys." Then his eyes took on an intensity as he stared at Roy.
"Roy, buddy. Remember what we talked about. I'll be seeing you, friend." With that said, he left leaving five sets of eyes staring after him. The approach of another turned five heads as one.
"Cap? What was that all about?" Marco managed to speak first. Cap rocked on his heels and looked at the floor for a moment as he sunk his hands into his pockets. "I . . uh . . . got a call early this morning. From Headquarters. About Kent."
"And?" Mike pushed.
Cap's face twisted with some unknown emotion and he cleared his throat, then wiped at his eye. "Well?" Finally he raised his head and his men could see his eyes were suspiciously bright. "Uh, seems they decided that since John is in the hospital and might be off for some time that, uh . . .they should reassign Kent to another team of paramedics to finish his training."
Absolute silence reigned for about ten heartbeats then Chet threw both fists into the air with a "Yes! Thank you, Holy Father!"
"Kelly!" Cap barked and Chet had the sense to look somewhat contritely at Roy. "Ah, hey man, I'm sorry."
Roy looked around him, suddenly highly uncomfortable with his friends and terribly unsure of his own feelings. Voices from the locker area reached his ears and he grasped at that reprieve. "Uh, Cap. I think I hear Jason. If he's ready, do you mind . . .?"
Cap shook his head, "No, certainly pal. And Roy . . ." Roy stopped and looked into the dark eyes of the man who was his leader, seeing true concern there. "I'm sure that this is no reflection on you."
Roy swallowed hard and tried a forced smile, "Yeah. Sure." But his voice sounded unconvinced even to himself. Quickly he left.
Once Roy was carefully out of earshot, the remaining crew gathered around Cap, chorusing questions until he raised his hands. "Hold it. I don't know much more then I just told you."
"Where's the little weasel going?" Chet piped up. Cap glared at him again but then spoiled it by breaking out into a grin of his own. "It . . .uh seems the next team in line for training is over at 45's."
Three sets of eyes got big. "What shift?" Marco begged. This time even Cap had a hard time keeping a straight face as he answered, "Uh. You guessed it. A shift. Bellingham . . .and Brice."
As Roy left the parking lot and drove slowly to his house, the news he'd just been given sank in. They had sent Kent away. Kent would be trained by another team. He hadn't been a team. Roy had cut Johnny out of the team they used to be. Had Headquarters somehow gotten word of what he'd done? As he pulled into his driveway and stopped his car, Roy let his head fall forward onto the steering wheel with a groan.
He'd failed.
Miserably.
And now everyone would know it.
"When did things get so messed up?" he murmured to himself. Silently, he added, 'And how do I ever even begin to fix it now?'
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Dix looked up from the coffee she'd just sat down with as the door to the lounge opened. Wearily, Kelly Brackett, Joe Early and Ken Bentley walked in. She motioned them over to her table and got up as they sat down. She quickly poured three more cups of coffee and placed each before a tired man before sitting down with her own again.
Long moments of silence drew out as the men quietly drank or just contemplated the brew. Finally she broke it with, "Well?"
Kel blew out his breath as Joe shook his head. "He's one lucky young man." Ken solemnly said. The other two nodded. Dixie was nearly desperate to hear how the surgery on her friend had gone. Just as she was about to do some shaking of her own, Joe broke in with, "That was some excellent vascular work you did both on his side and on his hands."
Ken smiled slightly, "Thank you. Your work on those nerves wasn't bad either." His face serious again, he finished, "Now the real test will come if and when he can use those hands for more than twisted clubs." They all nodded and then Ken stood stretching and yawning, "well, my shift ended hours ago. I'm for a shower and my bed. Night, doctors."
Joe sighed as he drained his cup, "Well as much as I like the sounds of Ken's idea, I'm still on. I'll see you all later." With that, he was gone.
"Kel . . ." All her agony came out in that one word and Kel gave her a twisted grin. "Sorry Dix." Curious he looked around, "What time is it anyway?"
"It's nearly 5:00. Kel, what happened?"
He slumped further into his chair, "Huh, we were in there a little over two hours? It sure felt a lot longer." He shook his head. "God, Dix. He was a mess. That piece in his side missed every major organ by millimeters but it sliced through a mass of feeders to the colon. And his hands. The right one had both flexor and extensor tendons completely severed. He had so much glass and so many metal shards in him I think we pulled out the entire window. We were pumping the blood into him just about as fast as he was bleeding it back out. How his heart managed to keep on beating . . ."
Again he shook his head. Then he looked up into his friend's teary eyes and gave a smile, "Against all the odds, he's still with us. No signs of concussion damage from the blast. Except for the blown TM, all other injuries are secondary and tertiary damage." He sat back again and drank deeply.
Dix watched him carefully. 'That's not all; there's something else. Oh Lord, what isn't he telling me?' He looked up then catching her eye and sighed, knowing.
Shaking his head again, he said, "I should have listened to you. You knew something was going on weeks ago. I should have stepped in sooner. If I had, maybe things wouldn't have gotten this far."
"Kel, you're scaring me. What's wrong with Johnny?" Dixie held his gaze, her worry clearly showing in her eyes.
"Dix, when we got him up there and I got a good look, I'm mean a really good look at him, I admit I was shocked. He's obviously not been eating . . .and for a while I'd guess. He's lost at least twenty pounds, maybe more and you and I both know he didn't have any weight to lose to begin with. I've been on him before about being borderline underweight. Now he's lost muscle mass. I'm worried his recovery is going to be affected by his already weakened condition."
Dix looked down. "I . . .I saw it was getting bad, but I didn't think . . ." Her words died off as she pushed wearily at her bangs.
"Joe saw it too and he's just as worried. This . . .recovery . . .is going to be very hard for Johnny. On top of being weak from the blood loss not only is he going to have a lot of pain as all those wounds heal but he's facing months of rehabilitation in order to do anything with his hands. And I don't have to even tell you about the chance of infection from all this." Brackett sighed again as he scrubbed his face with his hand. They sat together for several long moments, joined in mutual worry over their hurting friend.
Suddenly Dix stood, wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and straightened her uniform as she straightened her shoulders into a determined set. Brackett watched her, one eyebrow cocked upward. "Dix?" a multitude of questions came out in that one word. She turned toward him and he saw the steel in her gaze.
"Well. Doctor. We can't sit around here all day. You have a phone call to make to some very anxious fireman and I . . ." she looked toward the door. "I have a patient up in SICU who is in desperate need of major TLC." With that, she left. Brackett watched the door swing back shut after her indomitable stride through it and found himself smiling, "Well, Mr. John Gage? Look out. With that power dynamo pushing you, you'll have no choice but to recover quickly." He drained his coffee, rinsed his cup then left to make some calls.
Dixie let Carol know she was off duty but would be upstairs if she was needed. Carol nodded her affirmation. "Oh and Dix?" She called out as the head nurse headed toward the elevators. Dix turned her head, an eyebrow raised. Carol smiled softly, "Give him some TLC from me." She gently added. Dix smiled then disappeared into the elevator. Carol shook her head as she looked back down at the charts in front of her. She couldn't stop her thoughts from returning to the horrible confrontation between the two paramedics whom she'd always thought were closer than some families she knew. "Lord knows the poor boy needs it." She murmured.
The two nurses around Johnny's bed looked up as Dixie slid the curtain back enough to slip inside. The older one glared at the ER head nurse. "Well, Dixie McCall. What is the ER champion doing in my watch area?"
Dix raised an eyebrow and tilted her head at the greeting. The younger nurse stopped rinsing the cloth in her hands as she watched the two 'old' military nurses face off. She'd heard other nurses tell stories about how strictly Ms. McCall ran her ER. "Like a battalion General," They'd told her. And she'd worked under Ms. Collins now for three months. She knew the old Navy nurse ran her floor with the same shipshapeness she'd obviously ran her hospital ship. What would happen now with these two both here together like this? She nervously glanced at the unconscious man on the bed before her. There had already been a lot of whispering and comments made about this patient. She'd heard it said he was a paramedic and everyone in the hospital knew Ms. McCall considered them "her boys". But Ms. Collins didn't allow anyone, not even uppity doctors, to interfere with her tightly run floor.
Suddenly smiles broke out across both women's faces and the younger nurse relaxed, relieved she wasn't going to have to try to grab an unconscious patient and run from a warzone. "Once he was wheeled up here from recovery, I didn't think you'd be far behind." The SICU floor nurse commented.
Dixie smile, "Gretchen. How's he doing?"
Gretchen ran her wet rag across Johnny's shoulder then rinsed it in the basin beside her. "They got him to wake alittle before they brought him up but he's been out since he's been here. I'm sure he'll feel much better once we get the rest of this crud off him."
Dix nodded and moved closer to the bed. She looked down on the figure there, seeing the thinness Kel had described. The tube had been removed from Johnny's throat but a nonrebreather was attached to his face and she could hear the hiss of O2 on high flow. Blood and IV solution ran into the central line in his chest. His face was nearly translucent he was so pale, his dark hair, still matted with sweat and blood, a stark contrast with his skin. He was naked except for the bulky dressings over his wounds, with just a sheet draped over his groin. A heavy cast covered his right hand from fingertip to mid forearm and his left was in a soft cast and heavy bandages as well. A young nurse with auburn hair diligently washed his feet and legs, carefully avoiding the stitches and scabbed over cuts there while making sure she removed all traces of dried blood.
Dixie looked up at the monitor, seeing the strong rhythm of his heart as it pulsed across the screen. The younger nurse finished Johnny's lower limbs and pulled the sheet back down over his legs, then pulled the blanket at his feet up to his waist. She looked at her supervisor, her dirty basin clutched in front of her. Gretchen looked up and dismissed her with a curt, "That will be all, Wilson."
Both watched as the younger woman scampered quickly away. Gretchen watched her then sighed heavily, "Babies. They keep sending me these babies they call nurses. They're barely weaned from their own mamas."
Dix stifled a chuckle as she couldn't help notice that once Johnny was awake, he wouldn't think Miss Wilson was such a 'baby'. 'I think he'd spell it a little differently' she giggled to herself.
Gretchen had finished washing Johnny's torso now and moved the basin away as she picked up a tub. "Now to get some cream on those burns." She sighed as she gently smoothed the silvery cream across the areas of Johnny's blistering forearms not covered in cuts or casts. She looked around in disgust. "Uh! That's the last time I trust one of those infants to get the supplies."
Dix's smile broadened, "I'll get them, Gretch, and be right back." Gretchen smiled her thanks as the head nurse left.
As she gently spread the cream across Johnny's neck and right shoulder, her black eyes softened considerably, "a baby. That's all you are too. An infant doing a man's work out there in those cruel streets. But don't you worry none, liebechen, both Dix and old Gretch will have you up and about before you know it."
As she completed her tasks, took and recorded another set of vitals, she thought about the talk she'd overheard both from the three doctors who had checked on their patient after he was brought up from recovery and the whisperings of her nurses.
She knew this one, had seen him once or twice in the elevator and down in the emergency department. She'd also watched him when he'd visited patients after he'd brought them in. Oh she knew him, beyond what her nurses thought they knew. She'd been around the world, had taken care of too many young men at this age to count. And she saw beyond what was on the surface.
She also knew her old friend, saw the worry she tried to hide and knew this one meant a lot to the old Army nurse. She chuckled softly, "I think she knows your secrets too, liebechen. But don't you worry none, you're safe with us."
Under her warm hand, Johnny moved his head slightly and groaned. At that moment, Dixie returned. Together the two nurses quickly bandaged up the burns. Once they were done, Dixie pulled the sheet up over his battered chest. Then surprisingly Gretchen stood back. "Oh Dix. I didn't get a chance to do more then shake the glass out of his hair. Would you mind terribly finishing up? If I don't get out there and breathe some fire at those babies they'll do nothing but stand around drinking coffee and gossiping."
Dix laughed as she took the offered bottle from her friend's hand. "Go get 'um tigra!" she told her. Gretchen laughed and walked to the door. At the doorway she stopped and turned, "You might try talking to him. He moved his head and groaned just before you walked back in." Then she left.
Dix snorted in a very unladylike manner. "You're as see-through as a mosquito net, you old sea dragon." She grumbled at her friend but inside was grateful for this chance to be alone with Johnny.
She combed his thick hair back away from his face, making sure any glass or other foreign debris was removed. Next she covered the pillow with three heavy towels then began slowly pouring the warmed liquid into his hair. She smiled slightly as she mused, "Letting it grow out a bit there, huh Johnny? I wondered how long it would be before you started to defy the required length." She'd actually been surprised to see the young man keep his hair regulation short for as long as he had.
As she massaged the shampoo into his scalp, it began to foam up and she meticulously worked it throughout the dark locks. She could well remember the very first time she had preformed this service for a critically injured Johnny Gage. "Your hair was long then, much longer than now. That is, at least where it hadn't been burned away. I really hated to have to cut it all off but I had too in order to even it out." Her smile widened, "Back then you didn't say a word about it, but somehow I know if that happened now, we'd never hear the end of it."
Soon she had covered his whole head and began toweling it dry again, grateful for the invention which cleaned without needing rinsed. As she did, she too noticed movement under his eyelids and around his mouth. Stroking his now damp hair she coaxed, "Come on Johnny. Wake up. Come on phoenix, I want to see those beautiful brown eyes." She used the nickname given him years ago that she only used privately, hoping it would speed his return to consciousness.
More movement and he breathed a faint moan under the mask. She rested her hand on his left shoulder, one of the few areas on his anterior body not injured, and gently pressed. "Come on Johnny. Look at me. I know you're in there. Time to wake up now."
Twitches in his arms now accompanied the movement to his face and she knew he was closer to consciousness. Half of her hated to wake him, knowing the probable outcome of that. Many patients suffered severe nausea as a side effect from the anesthesia and somehow she just knew he'd be one of those. However, he did need to wake up so they could better judge his progress.
Again she urged him, "That's right, Johnny. Wake up. Show me those beautiful browns, phoenix. Come on, open your eyes."
He mumbled something faintly but she couldn't hear it over the hiss of the O2 and the muffling of the mask. She leaned closer and tried again. "Wake up Johnny. Open your eyes and look at me."
"Can't." Came the mumbled word again. Dixie frowned, 'Well at least he seems to be alert enough to talk.'
"Why can't you, Johnny? Come on, I know you can if you really try. Now, open those big brown eyes for me."
"Can't. S'mbdy taped 'um shud." He slurred. A smile broke out on Dixie's face at that and she fought to stifle the laugh in her throat.
"Nobody's taped your eyes shut, Johnny." She fought to keep her voice even. "Why would you think that? No one would do that to you."
"Chet 'ooud." The weak voice answered and under his lids she could see more movement.
This time she couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. She smoothed the still damp wavy locks from his cheek. "Chet didn't tape your eyes shut, Johnny. Now open them for me."
"Sure?"
She smiled at the uncharacteristic uncertainty she heard in that one word.
"I'm sure. No one has taped your eyes shut. Now open them and look at me."
Slowly the lids cracked and bit of blurry brown shone through. They opened a little more as those brown orbs coasted slowly back and forth before settling on her. She smiled broadly. "Welcome back, phoenix."
"Dix?"
She nodded, "Yes Johnny. Can you tell me how you feel?"
His face scrunched up and he gave a faint gasp. "Hurts . . ." he whispered. She stroked his shoulder. "I know it does. We'll give you something for that in just a moment. But right now, I need you to answer some questions. What's your name?"
He groaned and answered in a weak breathy voice, "Fire . . man/ Para . . .medic John Gage. Badge num . . .ber 3-3-0."
She smiled as she teased, "Alright, bright boy. Do you remember what happened?"
Johnny's eyes traveled around the room again before settling on her and this time they were a little more focused. "Rampart?" She nodded. He blinked then sighed, "Didn't run . . .fast enough."
She smiled as she recognized the same thing he'd said in the treatment room. "Not only that, you tried to use your body as a trash can to pick up debris."
The edges of his mouth turned upward and his breath came out in a soft huff. She realized he'd tried to laugh when he groaned, "Don't do . . .that Dix." He complained. "Hurts."
She patted his shoulder in comfort, "I'm sorry, phoenix. I know it does."
"Dix?"
"Yes, Johnny?"
"An'bdy else hurt?"
She smiled wider at that, "No, Johnny. You made sure you cleared the area. Nobody else was hurt."
"Fire out?"
"Yes, Johnny, the fire is long out."
He blinked slowly, tried to raise his head and gasped. She immediately moved to restrain him. "Not a good idea there, phoenix."
"How . . .how bad?" He tried to move his hands but his right seemed way too heavy and his left barely twitched. Dix placed a hand on his arm as she told him his laundry list of injuries. She didn't leave anything out, she knew him well enough to do that. However, she didn't go into full detail about his hands either; there was time enough for that later. He listened carefully and when she was done, breathed out one word.
"Wow."
She choked back a laugh at his gross understatement. He looked up at her, the corner of one side of his mouth pulling up in a faint rendition of his cocky grin. "How long?"
"How long have you been here? Or how long will you be in here?" She asked as she smoothed the blanket carefully over his chest.
"Both."
She nodded, "Well, it's still Monday but it's evening now. And the other will depend on how well you do, you know that."
He nodded and winced again in pain. Suddenly his face went paler and his eyes opened wider as he swallowed repeatedly. She recognized those signs well and hit the call button. She grabbed a basin with one hand while she pulled the mask from his face with the other, then rolled him over onto his side just as he began retching. However, the NG tube had done its job and his stomach was empty. Unfortunately, that didn't do anything for the stomach contractions. He uttered a growl of pain that died off into a whimper with each pull on his bruised and cut abdomen. Sweat broke out across his face and neck while saliva dripped from his mouth. What little strength he'd waken with drained quickly out of his body and he slumped against Dixie, panting heavily. It was now only her strength holding him up –he was dead weight against her –only she prevented him from toppling out of the bed. Then suddenly she wasn't alone. Another presence was beside her, crooning words of comfort to the suffering man even as Dixie saw the flash of syringes.
"Relax, liebechen, we got you. You just relax. Doctor thought this might happen and he left a script. Said he doesn't want you doing any damage to his pretty embroidery." Gretchen cooed as the two nurses rolled him back onto his back and Dix carefully cleaned his face with a cool cloth while Gretchen reaffixed the mask and checked the flow. He breathed a soft sigh, his eyes sliding shut as the medicines took over.
Once they were sure he was once more peacefully asleep the two faced each other. Gretchen sighed, "so, he's gonna be one of those. Poor baby, as if all those bruises and cuts and burns aren't enough he's gonna be a ralpher."
Dix spurted out a chuckle at her friend's description but sighed as well. "Yeah, I had a bad feeling about that. He's never been in here needing surgery before but he usually throws enough curves at Kel I just knew he'd react like this."
Suddenly Gretchen's eyes went wide, "Dix! He's the one who got . . .!"
Dix nodded, "That horrid virus, and the snakebite a while ago."
Gretchen nodded, "I thought I recognized the name. He's not been in my ICU before but I know he's been over with Hilda Jenkins a few time."
Dixie nodded and gave a sigh as she smoothed the blanket softly over Johnny, very mindful of his many injuries on his bared chest. "Yes, he's been there a few times already, but like I said, not here in SICU before." She stroked his forehead in a protective gesture as the smile softened, "That's our adventurous Johnny Gage."
Gretchen nodded as she finished up her vitals check on the young fireman. "Well, don't you worry none, Dix. I'll make sure he gets the VIP treatment." She smiled as her friend blushed a little.
"That obvious?" Dixie asked.
Gretchen rolled her eyes and snorted, "Your reputation with "the boys" in firemen blue proceeds you, Army."
"Johnny saved my life once." Dixie tried to justify and Gretchen held up a hand and smiled, "Relax Army. You'll get no flak from this old WAVE. I've heard the chatter but know the difference between scuttlebutt and the straight scoop."
Dixie relaxed. Gretchen tapped lightly on her shoulder as she headed to the door once more. "If you're going to get any rest before your next shift, you'd better start for home, Dixie. He'll probably sleep now for at least the next several hours."
With one last look at the sleeping figure, Dixie followed her friend out the door.
Johnny did sleep for several hours and woke again in pain and retching while Gretchen was taking vitals. But the nurse was prepared with the needed medications in her uniform pocket and after another comforting face-washing and soft words, he was out again.
At 9:00 am Tuesday morning, Mike and Chet stepped off the elevator in SICU and noticed Cap already in the waiting area. They hurried forward just as two more figures came toward them from the other end of the hall. Cap greeted his men and Momma Lopez with a nod. Before the questions could begin, he filled them in on what he'd already been told.
"Dr. Brackett was just going in to check on John when I got here. He said John had a bit of a rough night, seems he's pretty sick from the anesthesia but Brackett said that's fairly common and he's on medication for it. He said he'd come see us when he finished." Cap looked his men over and smiled slightly at Momma Lopez who had wiped her eyes with the news.
"Poor Juanito. It's not bad enough he has wounds but to be ill as well," She murmured. Marco nodded. Chet made a face then got a look in his eyes. He grinned broadly and opened his mouth.
"Don't even think it, Kelly." Cap growled.
Chet blinked innocently, "It's not what you think, Cap. Besides, I'd never do anything while he's down."
"Yeah, you'll wait until he can at least sit up before you make his life miserable." Mike muttered. Cap had to hide a grin behind a strangled cough over the overheard comment.
At that moment the sound of a door closing pulled their attention and as one they turned to see Dr. Brackett approaching them. They waited until he was closer before the questions began.
"Doc, how is he?"
"Is he better this morning?"
"Can we see him?"
"Doc he still pukin' his guts out?"
That last comment earned the little Irishmen five sets of stern looks. Chet blinked, trying to put on his best guileless look and failing miserable.
"To answer your questions," Brackett said, "he's a little more alert this morning. The pain meds are making him drowsy and that's good as sleep is the best thing for him right now. Because of the blood loss and the reaction to the anesthesia he's very weak. I would prefer to limit his visitors still this morning; I don't want him overtasked. There's no more bleeding, that's good news, and the wounds all look good. I've scheduled him for another x-ray later today to check his lungs but the longer he goes with no problems, the better chance he has that he won't have any. And yes, Chet, he's still very nauseated."
"Then we'd better not let Chet see him. Johnny can barely stomach him when he's healthy." Marco's eyes twinkled merrily as he zinged his friend, the doctor's good news relieving him greatly. The others chuckled as Chet glared.
"Thanks a lot, Buddy."
"You're welcome, amigo."
Brackett hid a smile behind his hand. Then he faced Captain Stanley. "Captain, I know you all want to see him. I understand your concern. I suggest groups of two and no more than three minutes. He was fairly alert when I left him but I doubt he'll stay that way long."
Cap nodded and turned to his men. "Chet, you and Mike, then Marco and Momma Lopez." He caught his engineer's eye and got a faint nod. He knew Mike would make sure Kelly didn't do anything out of line. As they moved toward Johnny's door, Cap moved to follow but Brackett's hand on his elbow stopped him.
When he turned to look at the doctor, the grim look on his face made a cold rush go down the Captain's spine. 'Oh no,' he thought, 'Something's wrong. Something with John that the Doc didn't want the others to hear?' He was surprised his voice held no sign of his inward anxiety as he asked, "Something wrong, Doc?'
Brackett saw the look cross the Captain's face and correctly surmised it's meaning. "Johnny's fine. I told you all we know right now. I just wanted to know where Roy was and what's going on between those two. It could make a difference in Johnny's progress."
Cap sighed heavily and ran a tired hand down his face, "Doc?" he murmured, "I was afraid you'd say that." He motioned toward the chairs and as the two men sat, Cap gave the brief version of the tension between the two over the last two weeks. Brackett listened to what the Fire Captain was telling him, what he diplomatically was not telling him, and what he already knew or had surmised. He kept his best 'doctor' face on as the man concluded with, "and as for where Roy is now? I assume he's at his home. Will he be in later to see John? That, Doc, it the $64,000 question."
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Chet hesitated at the door, looking back toward Mike who merely reached past the Irishman and pushed it open. Chet now had no choice but enter the room, Mike right behind him. Then both men stopped as they got their first look at their shiftmate.
"Well, he looks better," Chet uttered although personally he'd seen livelier corpses. Mike tilted his head and glanced at him from the corner of his eye as Chet merely shrugged.
"Hi . . .guys," came faintly from under the mask and the two moved closer.
"Looking good there, Gage." Chet oozed enthusiasm, "So when you gonna get your lazy butt out of bed and back to work? Oww!" Mike's elbow jabbed roughly into his side. The engineer moved closer, his voice soothing as he spoke, "Never mind him, Johnny. We're just glad to see you recovering."
Johnny didn't say anything but Mike caught the look of gratitude that flashed in his brown eyes. As Chet inhaled to say something else, Mike interrupted, "Doc said we could only stay a few minutes. Besides, there are others waiting to see you." Johnny nodded weakly. Mike patted his shoulder and smiled. Then he turned and grabbed Chet's elbow.
"Hey now wait a moment! I didn't get to say anything!" He protested.
"Chet, you're taxing on a healthy man, let alone one out of surgery. Say good-bye." Mike told him as he maneuvered the shorter man toward the door.
"Good-bye Gage come back soon!" The Irishman managed before he was shoved out the door. Johnny could hear him grumbling in the hall then whining something to Cap. He gave a faint grin over his shiftmates antics, knowing they were mostly put-ons for his benefit.
The door opened again and two more figures approached the bed. He tried to smile up at them and raise his hand. Immediately, Adelina gently pushed his hand back onto the mattress. "Don't Juanito. Don't do anything that might strain yourself." She gently admonished him, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she smiled lovingly at him. "I can see you're in pain."
He grimaced, "Sorry." he breathed. Adelina frowned, looked at Marco who frowned back and shrugged. "For what, amigo?"
"Al-ways . . .makin' ya . . . worry,"
At once Adelina gave out a cry and stroked his head, "Oh no! No, mi hijo. There is no need. I worry because I care about you and I wouldn't have it any other way!"
Marco nodded, concern in his dark eyes as he watched his foster brother. "Johnny, you didn't do anything wrong. In fact everything you did was straight out of the book."
Johnny frowned, "Hey . . . name callin'. Not nice." Marco looked confused and Johnny continued, "Called me . . .Brice." Marco got it then and chuckled, "You're right, Johnny. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you." At his mother's bewildered look, he just nodded, indicating he'd tell her later.
Under the mask, Johnny yawned widely and his eyes fell to half-closed. Adelina patted his shoulder, "You're tired, Juanito and the good Doctor said sleep was best for you. We will leave now, but we will be back and as always, you are in my prayers." She leaned over and kissed his forehead.
Marco patted his shoulder as well, "Rest Johnny, take care and if you need anything, anything at all don't hesitate."
Johnny gave a tired nod, his eyes more closed now than open as they left. He heard the door, heard another set of footsteps coming close. He knew who it was, knew he needed to talk to him, explain. He forced his heavy lids open and turned his head slightly toward his Captain.
"Cap."
Cap smiled, "Relax John. Sleep if you can." He told his youngest shift-member. 'He looks so pale, so thin. I didn't realize he was getting so thin. Mike did tell me; I should've stepped in sooner.' Cap disguised his frown as he noticed Johnny's gaze shift behind the Cap as if looking for someone else. Then Johnny sighed heavily and Cap echoed it.
As if suddenly remembering him, Johnny looked back up at Stanley, "Sorry 'bout getting' . . . hurt again." He murmured. Cap shook his head and laid a hand on Johnny's shoulder. "It's not your fault, John. You were only doing your job."
Johnny made a face which became a grimace of pain when a muscle spasmed across his torn up abdomen. "No, inefficient . . . use of time . . . resour-rces." He mumbled, rolling his head back and forth, his eyes mostly closed.
Cap couldn't hide his frown this time, "No, John. You did all you were supposed too. You aren't to blame for anything." He pressed a little firmer on John's shoulder and waited until the younger man's eyes opened again. He repeated his words, his voice firm and his hand accenting them. Johnny met his gaze, his own searching for any sign these were just platitudes but there was none there. Cap was serious. Tension left his body and he gave a faint smile as his eyes closed again and this time stayed that way. His breath evened out and deepened and Cap knew he slept. He patted that bare shoulder again and sighed deeply. "Don't you worry about anything other than getting better, John." he told him in a soft voice, "That's all we expect of you. Just . . .get better." With one last look at the bedridden figure, he quietly left.
He left the room and wasn't surprised to find his men still in the hall. Four sets of eyes looked up at him as he walked toward them. Chet was the first.
"Geez, Cap did you see how skinny Gage was? I've seen pictures from prison camps of fatter captives! Oww! Mikey!"
"Don't worry. When he can eat, I will bring him food," Adelina assured, "This hospital food is not for the ill to stomach."
Cap and Mike exchanged looks saying more than words ever could before Cap gave an answer, "Yes, Chet, I saw him. And I'm sure his doctors are aware also. Right now, he's getting the best care he can and I'm sure that issue will be addressed." He looked into their tired faces, knowing they wanted to hear him tell them everything would be alright in their world. Hell, he wanted someone to tell him that!
But the truth was, he couldn't, so he gave them only what he could. "Let's head home now. We are all tired and need rest. Doctor Brackett and the rest here will take good care of John." As they turned away, he caught several bits of their mumbling, the sharpest being, " . . .DeSoto sure is some piece. Not even caring his partner's lying in the hospital half-dead. DAMIT Mikey! You hit me with that elbow one more time . . ."
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Dixie looked up from the never ending nursing schedule to the clock on the wall and sighed. She had checked on Johnny soon after his shiftmates had left and found him sleeping soundly. Then she'd headed up once during her lunch break but they were changing his bandages and the painful pleading look he'd given her told her she was one disturbance more than he could handle at the moment. In order to save some of his dignity, she'd left. She'd called up a little bit ago but was told he'd been taken to x-ray. That had been over an hour hence. She was sure he was back by now and did want to see him again before her shift ended. The head nurse had reported he hadn't said a word since his visitors this morning, merely either nodding or shaking his head in answer to questions.
Finally, she pushed the schedule aside and motioned Betty over. "Cover for me, I'm going to take my break now." Waiting only to get a nod, she left. Outside of his room, she paused, suddenly nervous over the confrontation she might be having. She didn't want to further upset him, but she also worried. So, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Before she could say anything, he spoke, his voice low and flat. "Dix, you don't need to come up here so often and check on me, I'm fine."
Dixie put her hands on her hips, her eyes dark with anger, "John Roderick Gage, sandpaper and hair are fine and you are neither so don't start that with me. Now. How are you doing—truth."
Johnny moved uncomfortably and pulled the nonrebreather from his face, "Truth? I hurt everywhere. I can't find any way to lie that doesn't make me want to scream. The stupid anesthesia has me still puking my guts out but all this . . .this crap," he waved his heavily bandaged left hand around himself, "attached to me says I'm alive and healing." He turned dead eyes up to her. "There, is that better?" He laid back, panting slightly at the effort the tirade had cost him.
She shook her head sadly as she rubbed a hand over his shoulder, "No. Not better; but truthful. Thank you."
Suddenly a faint grin appeared on his lips and he looked up at her, "Sandpaper and hair??" He questioned and she laughed.
He tried to move again and grunted in pain. She touched him on his neck, checking his carotid for a pulse since his wrists were bandaged. He let her, even though part of him wanted to pull away.
"A little fast there, phoenix. Try to relax. You've got awhile before your next dose is due."
He nodded faintly as he laid back again and replaced the mask over his face, trying to slow his breathing and relax his throbbing body. "Dix?"
"Hmmm?"
"Was . . .was anyone else hurt?"
Dixie smiled at him and shook her head, "No Johnny. Only you." She patted the only uninjured part of his anterior body—his left shoulder—again. "There was no one else in the area; you made sure it was cleared." She'd been told the tale by both Mike Stoker and Captain Stanley.
Johnny looked Dixie straight in the eye, "Kent?"
Dixie's jaw twitched, "He was fine." She managed to nonchalantly reply. "Being in the squad protected him."
Johnny nodded then his breath caught in pain. Dix rubbed his shoulder in an effort to comfort the hurting man as he gasped his way through it. When it eased, he took a deep breath and released it in a sigh. He looked back up into the moist eyes of his friend and gave a faint grin, "Rrr. . .rule number one." He muttered.
She gently swatted his shoulder, "Applies only to field paramedics not battle hardened headnurses like me. We're already immune."
His grin broadened, "Yeah. Sure." he whispered. Taking another deep breath, he continued, "Dix? Don't blame Kent. I don't. He's . . . he's just still green. He did what he could. It's . . .it's different when it's your first time in charge."
Dix just nodded, not trusting herself to reply. Johnny sighed again. He knew the headnurse knew what he did; Kent had frozen and in doing so, endangered Johnny's life.
"Dix? Who responded?"
At this, Dix smiled broadly, "Your old friends from 110's. Tom Wheeler and Kirk Mueller."
Johnny groaned loudly, "I'm . . .I'm not gonna see myself on . . .on the news, am I?"
Dix laughed at the reference to the gloryhound Wheeler whose even minor rescues awhile back had been front page news. "I don't think so. It all happened so fast, I doubt the cameras or news crews even got there before you were transported."
"Good. I . . .I don't mind bein' beholden to Kirk. He's decent enough, but Wheeler?" Johnny managed a smile before another wave of pain stiffened his body. Again he panted his way through it, feeling Dixie's comforting hand. As it eased off, he relaxed. He turned to give the nurse another smile when another sensation hit him. His eyes widened as he swallowed desperately.
Dixie saw the look and immediately reached for the emesis bowl by his side. He gave a strangled, "nnnooo," as he failed to keep his stomach from contracting. Dix pulled the mask off and moved him slightly to his side, supporting his body with hers while she rubbed his back as he gagged. With nothing in his stomach, he only dry heaved but the pain it caused him made his head swim and his vision white out. A choked off cry worked its way up his throat as well.
Dimly, over the rushing sound in his ears, he could hear Dix soothing him, "easy Johnny. Just try to relax. Don't fight it; you'll make it worse. That's right. I've got you, Just relax."
Dix watched as the man before her panted and retched, his face blanched white with pain, his eyes closed, knowing there was very little she could do to ease his distress. Finally the episode passed and she helped him roll back. As he weakly lay back, panting and sweating, she went into the bathroom but soon returned with a dampened cloth. She carefully wiped his face and neck and then replaced the mask. He sighed heavily.
"Brackett said . . .if x-rays looked good." He told her. "I'd get rid of this." He tapped the mask with his left hand. She nodded, "I know."
He looked up into her eyes and quietly announced, "I'm so tired, Dix." She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. Somehow she knew he was talking about more than his physical state. They stayed that way for several long moments, then he blinked slowly.
He rolled his head away from her, his eyes closed, "He didn't even come." His voice was so soft, Dixie almost missed his next words as well. "All the others came but he couldn't even pretend . . ." The words broke off in a inhalation sounding too much like a sob. Dixie pretended she couldn't see the tear that ran down his cheek as she continued wiping the refreshing cloth over him.
"I know, Johnny, I know." She told him again, her heart breaking at his pain. She continued to wash his face and stroke his hair, even long after his breath evened off in sleep.
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