January 1979

The tones sounded, jolting Johnny out of a sound sleep and sending him tumbling out of his bunk, into his turnouts and toward the squad.

"This had better be a good one." Bryan grumbled.

Johnny kept his thoughts to himself as he started the squad and took the address slip from Cap, handing it off to Bryan. "You just figure out where we're going."

A light rain dotted the windshield, and Johnny flipped on the wipers as he started down the street, the engine following close behind.

Bryan easily guided Johnny through the streets until they arrived at the scene of the accident. It looked as if one driver had blown through the stop light and t-boned the other vehicle.

"Damn." Bryan murmured. "Looks like a nasty one."

Johnny ignored the other man and hopped down, working with Bryan to pull equipment and start toward the scene. Smoke and steam rose from both vehicles as they split up to assess the situation.

"I'm fine, goddammit." One of the victims was slurring his words badly. "Stupid bitch came outta nowhere."

"Sir, I need you to calm down." Bryan told him firmly. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Johnny turned his attention to the other vehicle, opening the passenger side door and climbing through to the victim behind the steering wheel. He had a bad feeling already, noting the dull, unblinking expression on her face and the way her head tilted awkwardly.

He caught movement in the back seat. There was a young boy watching him intently. "How you doing?" Johnny asked him as he assessed the woman. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No." The boy's voice was soft. "Is my mom okay?"

"I'm checking her out right now." Johnny flicked the penlight in her eyes, already knowing what he would find. "You guys are out pretty late, huh?"

"Me and Mom went to see my Grandma Dorothy." The boy told him. "She lives in Las Vegas."

"Is that right?" Johnny tried to keep his tone conversational. "Bet you had a lot of fun."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm tellin' you, I'm fine!" The man in the other vehicle bellowed. "I know my rights. You can't keep me. If I don't wanna go to the hospital, I don't have to."

Johnny felt for a pulse and found none, checked for respirations, waited for any sign at all that she could be saved. He'd have to relay the information to Rampart, of course, but he already knew they'd call it.

He turned his attention to the boy in the back seat. "You don't mind if I come over there and check you over, do you? Maybe tell me more about your grandma."

The boy nodded and launched into a long, rambling story about his visit with his grandma, all the things he'd seen while he was there while Johnny checked him over.

"My head hurts." The boy stopped talking long enough to tell Johnny.

"Where, right…here?" Johnny felt around his head, searching for the injury.

"Ow!" The boy cried out. "Right there."

Johnny felt the raised spot. "Yeah, you're gonna have a pretty good-sized goose egg there. Tell you what, how'd you like to take a ride in an ambulance? I'll even go with you."

"Okay." The boy nodded. "What about my mom?"

Johnny didn't have the heart to tell the boy that his mom was dead. "Well, see, she'll ride in a different ambulance. You'll see her soon."

"Promise?"

Johnny's heart sank. He hated lying to the kid. "Yeah, promise. How about I give you a ride over to that stretcher, huh?"

The boy smiled slightly and nodded, and Johnny picked him up and carried him to the stretcher before getting on the biophone. "Rampart, this is County Fifty-One, how do you read?"

"Go ahead, Fifty-One." Brackett's voice replied.

"We have a total of three victims on scene." Johnny started. "First victim is male, approximately eight years old, with a possible head injury, vitals are as follows."

He rattled off the vitals before continuing. "Second victim is female, mid-thirties. Pupils are non-reactive, no pulse, and respiration rate is zero."

There was a brief pause before Brackett responded. "Fifty-One, prepare male victim for transport, call female victim. You have a third victim?"

Johnny waved Bryan over, and he took over the biophone. "Rampart, third victim is male, early forties, appears to be heavily intoxicated. He is refusing treatment. Police are on scene."

The man listed back and forth for a moment before collapsing, and Johnny immediately moved to assess him. He rattled off the vitals to Bryan, who relayed them to Rampart.

A second ambulance showed up as Johnny was starting the IV, and he was soon loaded up and ready to go. Johnny had a moment of misgiving, knowing he had promised to ride in with the kid.

Now the kid was going to have to ride alone. If there was one thing Johnny hated more than lying, it was breaking a promise. But in this case, he had no choice.

"Hold on a minute." He told the attendant, heading over to the other ambulance and climbing in. "Hey, I have to ride along with the other ambulance. But I'll check in on you once we get to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay." The boy looked disappointed, which only added to Johnny's guilty feeling.

"Okay." Johnny nodded and hopped down, climbing into the other ambulance for the ride to Rampart, along with one of the police officers.

It was a short, uneventful ride, and the man started to stir just as they pulled in. "Where am I?"

"You're at Rampart, sir." Johnny managed not to snap at the guy. "You passed out on scene."

"I'm fine." The man muttered, trying to pull at the IV line. "Let me out of here!"

"You're not going anywhere." The police officer told him. "We've got some questions for you."

Johnny disliked these situations when he was caught between the police officer and the injured perpetrator. They rarely ended well.

This was no different. If he hadn't been strapped to the stretcher, Johnny was pretty sure he would have tried to go after the police officer. They quickly moved to get him out of the ambulance and into the emergency room.

"Treatment room five." Dixie told them crisply.

They rolled the stretcher into the room, the man still yelling and cussing up a storm, nearly pulling out the IV line. Johnny was relieved to be rid of the guy. He was no longer his problem.

As he left the treatment room, he heard someone crying in another room. He followed the sound and peeked in. There was the boy that he had treated, the one he had promised to ride in with.

The one who had just lost his mother because some idiot thought he could drive wasted.

A loud crash came from the treatment room Johnny had just left, and the man came stumbling out, looking for an exit. Johnny immediately intercepted him, grabbing hold of the man before he could get too far.

"You let go of me!" He bellowed as he struggled in Johnny's grip. "I'll sue. I'll sue all of you."

Johnny responded by gripping him even more tightly. "You listen to me." He hissed angrily. "Do you have any idea what you did tonight? You killed someone. You hear me? That kid doesn't have a mom anymore because of you."

"Johnny, let go of him." Brackett told him quietly.

Johnny released him forcefully, nearly sending him to the floor. "Son of a bitch."

"Johnny." Brackett's voice took on a warning tone. "We'll take it from here."

Johnny nodded curtly and returned to the desk, where Bryan was waiting for him, his eyes wide. Bryan hit the button on the handy-talkie. "County Fifty-One available."

The dispatcher acknowledged the call, and both men headed back out to the squad. Johnny started it up and they headed back toward the station in silence.

After a moment, Johnny broke it. "Was that a good enough call for you?"

Bryan didn't respond, merely glancing downward at the handy-talkie in his hands. "I didn't mean—"

"Forget it." Johnny cut him off. "Just forget it."

It was easy to forget that Bryan was just a kid, not much past his probation period when he got paired up with Johnny once Roy had been promoted to captain. This was still exciting to him, and he wanted to see some action.

The problem was that the action came at a price, and that price was often other people's lives.

Johnny had been doing this long enough to know to treasure the slow days. It meant that people were out there living their lives. He'd rather have that over a thousand 'exciting' calls.

But perhaps that was a sign of his own increasing exhaustion and frustration. He didn't know anymore.

He backed the squad into the bay and shut it off, sighing heavily. "Look, I don't mean to get on your case, okay? I get it. I remember what it was like when I was new to this, too."

"Not very exciting when some kid loses his mom and the asshole that caused it fights you." Bryan replied somberly.

"Exactly." Johnny replied. "That's what you've always gotta remember. These are real people and real lives were dealing with."

"Got it." Bryan nodded. "Gonna try and catch a little sleep."

"I probably should, too." Johnny answered, even as he knew sleep was going to be a long time coming.

"You should." Bryan chided him. "But you won't."

Johnny let out a dry laugh. "Well, I do have a whole logbook to catch up. Busy shift, you know."

"Have fun."

They both climbed down from the squad, and Bryan headed for the dorm while Johnny headed to Cap's office to find the logbook before taking it into the day room. He briefly considered putting on a pot of coffee but decided against it.

He pulled the small tape recorder from his jacket pocket and set it down on the table, pressing the 'play' button and starting to write in the logbook. The events of the shift played out in the room, distilled to vitals and treatments given.

It was almost as if they were no longer people. Johnny paused the tape, trying to remember more details of the call. They were starting to run together more and more.

The engine pulled into the bay while Johnny wrote, though he barely noticed it. He was startled by the feel of a hand grasping his shoulder.

"John, get some sleep." Cap told him firmly. "You can take some time to fill that out in the morning."

"I'm alright." Johnny responded almost automatically, rewinding the tape to go back over a section he missed.

A chair scraped across the floor, and Johnny was suddenly aware of Cap's presence. "I know damn well that you're not. You haven't been for a long time."

Johnny pressed a button to stop the tape. Cap was right, he knew that. The incident in the emergency room earlier tonight just cemented that. He never would have roughed up someone that way without a damn good reason.

But it wasn't just those occasional fits of temper. Johnny knew himself that those were merely a symptom, as much a symptom as his fits of insomnia, his increasing cynicism, the darker thoughts that floated through his mind.

He had seen too much over the years, and it all wore on him. And he knew he was hardly alone in that.

"John?" Cap's voice was gentle, tinged with concern. "I get it. You see a lot of misery in this job, you more than most."

Johnny was quiet for a long moment before he sighed roughly. "Yeah. After a while…well, suppose there's only so much of other people's misery you can take."

Cap shook his head. "Got a lot of respect for you guys. I couldn't do it."

Johnny scoffed. "Someone has to, I guess."

Cap rose from the chair and grasped Johnny's shoulder one more time. "Just remember that you don't have to carry all that misery around with you. At the end of the day, it's a job."

"Right, Cap." Johnny answered quietly before pushing the 'play' button again. "Male, approximately thirty years old, gunshot wound—"

Another one who hadn't made it. All the blood, the screaming, the chaos came rushing back to Johnny. It had been a gruesome scene, and for a moment Johnny had thought Bryan was going to pass out on him. And afterward, when Johnny had all but ripped into him for being soft.

But sitting here now, Johnny had to wonder if that was true. After all, Bryan was the one peacefully sacked out in the dorm, not him. He was the one sitting here with his stomach in knots, trying to fill out this damn logbook.

Maybe he wasn't as hardened to this as he thought he was.

He pushed through and finished updating the logbook, closing it and leaning back, rubbing his now gritty, burning eyes. The exhaustion was finally starting to catch up with him, and he glanced at his watch.

Nearly four A.M. Might as well try to catch some sleep, he supposed, or at least lay down for a while.

As he climbed into his bunk, listening to everyone else around him settle into sleep, he found himself wondering once again if it was time to finally walk away, to leave this to those who were tougher than he was. It was a question that so far had yielded no answers.

He wasn't likely to find that answer tonight, either. As he finally drifted off, visions of a faraway place, an escape, floated through his mind.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time.

# # #

Steven listened as the apartment door opened and closed quietly. He'd gotten in late the night before and decided to crash at John's before heading out to his assignment at Joshua Tree.

Maybe he could convince John to join him. He'd sounded so beaten down the last time they'd talked, and while a day or two of hiking wouldn't fix everything, maybe it would be enough to distract him for a while, bring him a little peace.

"Oh, hey." John sounded mildly surprised. "What're you doing here?"

Steven rolled to his side, propping himself up on one elbow. "Assignment at Joshua Tree. Did you forget?"

"Suppose I did." John answered quietly as he unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off and tossing it to the floor before unbuckling his jeans and letting those fall. "Had a busy shift, you know?"

Steven could see the exhaustion etched on John's face. "I forgive you. Come here."

John smiled ever so slightly and climbed up on the bed, and they both shifted so that John laid his head on Steven's chest, stretching himself out across the bed. Steven started running his hands through John's hair. "Hair's getting long again. They're going to bug you to cut it before long."

John let out a quiet sigh. "Don't care. Might not be there much longer anyway."

And there it was again. "You know, one of these days I might take you seriously."

"I am serious. Another shift like yesterday…" His voice trailed off, and he huffed irritably. "Anyway. Good to see you. Been a while."

"I know." Steven replied. "Too long. Was thinking that maybe you'd like to head up to Joshua Tree with me."

"Hmm." John responded. "Maybe not today. I'm beat."

"Thought you might say that." Steven answered, resting his arm across John's torso. "I'll be here for a few days. We'll find time."

John didn't respond, but he seemed to relax under Steven's touch as he laid his hand on Steven's arm. "Don't know if I'm gonna be great company this time around."

"Doesn't matter to me." Steven told him. He was well used to the ups and downs that came with loving John. That would be the case whether they were around each other more often or not, and Steven took it all in stride. What time he did get with John was well worth it. He knew he wasn't exactly easy to deal with himself.

And he knew better by now than to try to push John to unload. He would in his own time. He always did.

John let out a quiet sigh, his fingers trailing along Steven's arm. "It should matter. I mean, you didn't come all this way just to listen to me complain about work."

"True." Steven admitted with a brief laugh. "But it comes with the territory."

John scoffed, but otherwise didn't respond. For a long moment, Steven thought John had fallen asleep until he spoke again. "You know, maybe I will head out with you today after all."

"No hurry." Steven answered casually, though he was pleased that John had changed his mind. "I got in late, and I figured you'd wanna try to catch some sleep when you got home."

"Probably should at least try." John answered, shifting so that he was now under the covers, his head on Steven's shoulder, one arm and one leg thrown over him. After a moment, Steven could feel John's hand sliding down his leg before the pads of his fingers dragged back up the inside of his thigh. "On the other hand…"

"Hmm." Steven responded, thoroughly enjoying the sensation.

"'Hmm', what?" John murmured as he moved slightly, his hand coming to rest on Steven's hip while he started a line of kisses along his collarbone. "Need some convincing?"

"Never." Steven replied, completely giving in to every touch and kiss. He'd imagined it often enough when he was on the road, almost preferring the memory of these times to trying to find other companionship.

He was hooked on this man, there was no doubt about that. And from the way John was now straddling him, capturing his mouth with such roughness and urgency, it seemed John felt the same.

Steven slid his hands under the waistband of John's boxers, getting a good hold on his rear. "Gotta get rid of these."

"Right, yeah. Hold on." John grumbled, shifting away for a moment, not only to rid himself of the offending garment, but to pull a tube from the drawer of his bedside table, placing it in Steven's hand before straddling him again. "Nothing in the way now."

Steven squeezed out some lube onto his fingers, taking a moment to slick himself up before feeling around and sliding his fingers deep inside John. He was rewarded with a sharp gasp followed by a low moan as John pushed hard against him.

"C'mon, man." John managed to get out, his voice rough and ragged, vibrating against Steven's chest. "Harder."

That was as good of a cue as any, Steven figured, slipping his fingers out and taking hold of his hard flesh, slowly pushing inside. "How about that?"

John shifted back slightly, not quite sitting up, just enough so Steven could push in further. The look on John's face, the sharp intake of breath, the little shudder from his body all told Steven he'd hit the mark, and that was all it took for Steven to start driving hard into him, his hands on John's hips to steady him.

John met Steven's thrusts with equal force, slamming hard against him with every stroke. There was no tenderness here, just pure, raw lust, the likes of which had rarely transpired between them.

It didn't take long for John's body to tense up, his fingers curling tightly into Steven's chest hair, that familiar warmth and wetness hitting Steven's stomach, and it only took a couple more thrusts for Steven to do the same, shooting deep inside John with a rough groan as his fingers dug into John's hips.

John visibly relaxed, letting go of Steven's chest hair and smoothing his hands down his body before leaning against Steven's legs. "Man, you have no idea how bad I needed that."

"Oh, I have some idea." Steven teased him, noticing the sheen of sweat on John's body. "Suppose you'll really want to crash now."

"Need a shower first." John responded as he slowly climbed off of Steven, leaning over to give him a quick kiss.

"You want company?"

John smiled broadly at that, the first real smile Steven had seen from him today. "Sure, yeah."

Steven rolled out of bed to follow John, who already had the shower going, the steam filling the small bathroom. "You first." John told him.

"If you insist." Steven responded, climbing in, with John right behind. He let the hot water wash over him, only slightly aware of the smell of John's soap.

God, he could hardly smell that anymore without thoughts of John creeping in.

He felt something rubbing him in slow circles, and he opened his eyes to see John with that unmistakable half-smile running the washcloth over his torso.

"Give me that." Steven chided him.

"I'm helping." John replied, that amused expression never leaving his face.

"You are not." Steven gently guided John so that they switched places, and he continued washing, watching as the water sluiced over John's head and body. It was a beautiful sight, one Steven could never get enough of.

"Hey, you done with that washcloth?" John's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Almost." Steven answered, moving toward John and finding the bar of soap, lathering up the washcloth and running it all over John's torso.

He was met with an amused expression and an arched eyebrow. "Helping?"

"Yes, helping." Steven pulled him closer, running the washcloth over his back and down his rear.

"Hmm." John murmured into Steven's neck. "Not sure you are. Not sure I care, though."

Steven could feel both his and John's arousal growing once again as John's mouth found his, more tender and gentle this time, but no less intense. Suddenly there was a hand at the small of his back and another taking hold of both their hard flesh, stroking slowly at first before picking up speed.

The sensation built up slowly before letting go all at once, and Steven held on to John tightly as he rode it out, a ragged sigh escaping him as he relaxed against John. "You're gonna wear me out."

"Don't tell me you're complaining." John answered with a teasing tone as he kissed Steven's neck before releasing him to duck under the shower again.

"I'm not, trust me." Steven replied, doing the same once John had climbed out.

"Then what's the problem?"

"There's no problem." Steven took the towel John offered and wiped himself down before tucking it around himself. "Good to know you're still hot for me after all this time."

John scoffed at that as he pushed out a handful of shaving cream and spread it over his face before working a razor in quick strokes. "Got a lot of time for, uh, the anticipation to build up, you know?"

"Hmm, suppose you have a point there." Steven answered casually, squeezing John's shoulder and planting a quick kiss on his neck before leaving him in the bathroom.

In reality, Steven knew there was more behind this. It seemed that John's need for physical contact was often proportional to the stress he was under. Steven figured he must be going through an especially stressful time right now.

No, Steven knew that he was, what with John talking once again about leaving for good. Steven would welcome him with open arms, of course. Hell, it might give him more of a reason to take on a little less work, maybe stay closer to home.

He sighed as he found some clothes in his bag, just a T-shirt and boxers for now, assuming John still wanted to catch some sleep before they headed out. And well, if they never made it out today, that was okay too, Steven supposed. He had a few days to get this assignment done and had built some flexibility in just so he could come see John.

As if on cue, John came back into the bedroom, digging through his dresser before coming up with his own T-shirt and boxers, tossing the towel in the nearby hamper before pulling them on and climbing back up on the bed, pulling the covers over himself.

Steven leaned over to press a quick kiss to his forehead before joining him. It wasn't long before John was curled against him, snoring softly.

He couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. Maybe in a few hours, they'd head out, and at some point, John would start talking. In the meantime, just being here was enough. More than enough.