PS26

Johnny sighed, another late call and more children, traumatized by what their parents had done. He was lucky to pull a double at 116, a little bit more money for more heartache.

Backing the squad into the ER entrance he looked at his scared charges. His partner, Tom Barkley had called in for the social worker, no doubt, but then at St. Francis one was on duty 24 hours a day.

"So, you must be John Gage," a rather snitty young woman met him at the ER doors entrance. Her bright red hair, tired face and brusque manner did nothing for the paramedic. She seemed like all the other uncaring social workers he had run into since being assigned to 116.

"Yes, how'd you know? By the two frightened children clutching my legs," the paramedic hissed just low enough for the social worker to hear. The children had been silently crying on the way to the hospital. He tried his best to calm them and knew once he was at the hospital they would be traumatized all over again.

"I'm sorry," she seemed contrite, "I'm Judy Thomson," she offered her hand.

Johnny reluctantly shook her hand. "You'd better take good care of them or you'll hear from me." He cautioned ,still unwilling to release his charges.

"Oh, I will ,Mr. Gage, believe me I've heard all about you from the other social workers," She knelt down and then hugged the children. "Come now I'm sure you're tired," she looked up at Johnny. "I'll find a nice warm bed for you to sleep in." She took both the children's hands and disappeared into the busy hospital.

Johnny watched the children go and realized he really, really needed to head over to the DeSoto's. He was getting down again with the job and circumstances surrounding the innocent children. Scuffing his feet, he headed towards the base station and some much needed coffee and maybe moral support.

It wasn't the usual head nurse waiting for him.

"Hello," the pretty young nurse grinned at him making him blush. She filled out her nurse's uniform in all the right places.

"Um, is there coffee made?" Johnny edged his way over to the coffee maker. Thankful he could get his head together and not sound like some idiot.

"Yes ,I just made it. Working graveyard can really be a drag, you know?" She smiled again. She leaned closer, her cleavage showing in the tight uniform.

"Um, John Gage," he offered his hand.

"Susan Smede," the red head offered her hand back. "My, you sure are cute."

Johnny blushed again. "Why thank you, so are you," he turned on the Gage charm desperate for some female companionship and breaking his rule.

"So, John, what are you doing this Saturday night? You don't have to work do you?" Susan flirted with him her blue green eyes, full red lips and ample chest made him squirm.

"Um, I'm not doing anything, why?" He asked innocently thankful he could play hard to get.

"Well, how would you like to go to a party?" She batted her eyes and his resolve melted.

"Yeah, that would be great, I mean,if you don't mind riding on the back of a motorcycle." He offered only to see her frown.

"Tell you what, John how about I pick you up. When do you work next?" She leaned in closer; he forgot all about his coffee and swooned at her perfume.

"Um, Thursday I work at 116's." He offered and looked at her beautiful blue green eyes.

"Cool. I'll call you and get your address. I think you're partner is waiting for you," she pointed an irate Barkley.

"Uh ,sorry. See ya," Johnny ginned broadly thinking of the party coming up and nothing more. Maybe he didn't need to see the DeSoto's after all.

####

It had been a long time since he had gone to a party, any party and hoped he hadn't turned into a prude. By the time they arrived at 9 p.m. the party was in full swing. The house was in a nice neighborhood in Redondo Beach. Once parked Johnny could smell the hint of ocean air along with bon fires.

"Nice house," Johnny remarked as they headed up the driveway and to the walkway to the front door. Music could be heard through the open front door and Susan did a cursory knock before going in.

Johnny looked at the crowd; there were people his age along with a younger crowd. The Bee Gees played in the background and his date headed towards the bar.

"What will you have?" the long blonde headed man asked.

"Um," John grimaced, "how about a beer to start, huh?"

"Sure thing," the guy popped a top and handed him a Bud.

His date got a rum and coke and then took his hand as they made their way to the backyard.

The kidney shaped pool had floating lanterns along with a large group of people. Johnny sighed inwardly, getting anxious at all the people. Always gregarious, he had always enjoyed parties until his troubles started. By then reporters and curious people had snuck into them asking unwanted questions. Not to mention some of his colleagues deriding him in front of him. He preferred camping alone and soon chose not to attend any social gatherings.

Steeling himself, he let Susan take the lead and introduce him to her friends. It was a mix of nurses, mechanics, and regular plain old Joes. He had started to get comfortable enjoying conversations, music, beer and the general casualness of the party. He had lost all track of time and anything outside didn't exist.

Johnny was actually enjoying himself and talking to a few people who didn't recognize him. So wrapped up in the party he had first didn't notice the commotion.

"Where the hell are you ,Susan?" A large, tall and angry man busted into the crowd. "I know you're here ,bitch ,so you'd better come out now before I really get mad."

Johnny looked around and then noticed his date was really nervous.

", God. I ..didn't think he'd find me here," she whispered and held tighter onto his arm.

"Um, what the hell is goin on?" Johnny whispered only to find it too late. He saw a flash of metal and watched as his date was yanked from his arms.

The man found him and Susan. He slapped her hard and grabbed her but not before Johnny felt a sharp pain in his abdomen and then went down hard on the grass.

His vision faded as he heard someone say call 9-1-1 and he could see someone kneeling next to him.

"Towels," Johnny coughed out, "towels and pressure." He looked at the shocked face not sure whether they heard him or not. Besides ,with the whooshing sound in his ears he wasn't sure how long he could stay conscious.

Before long someone pressed towels on his now bloody shirt and he heard sirens closing in. Fading in and out, he wondered if his life would get any worse and then he remembered. He was in 36's territory. It had just gotten worse.

Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth he heard the tell tale bang and crunch of the paramedic gear he was so familiar with. Unable to see what time it was he clutched at his painful belly and hoped they worked fast.

"Okay, what have we here," one of the paramedics asked. "May I?"

Johnny barely nodded as the paramedic removed the blood soaked towel.

"Think it was a switchblade," Johnny hissed and gritted his teeth. "Saw it too late."

"Yeah, looks like you did. You in a lot of pain?" Another paramedic asked.

Johnny barely nodded waited.

"Rampart base, this is squad 36. How do you read?" the unknown paramedic asked.

Then Johnny began to freak. Rampart, shit, I can't go there.

"We read you loud and clear," Brackett's voice cut through the background noise and the loud swishing noise in Johnny's ears.

"Rampart we have a 26 year old stabbing victim. He has a deep laceration in his lower quadrant. His vitals are…."

Effn A. What am I going to do? I'm not having any MS. Not going to Rampart drugged out of fricken mind.

"10-4 36, start an IV with Ringers and administer 10 milligrams of MS," Brackett's stern voice echoed in his ears.

"No. NO MS!" Johnny finally voiced his fears each word a painful jab to his belly.

"Rampart ,please be advised victim's refusing MS." The paramedic got back on the biophone.

"10-4 36 Transport victim as soon as possible."

"10-4 Rampart."

Johnny gritted his teeth as the ambulance attendants moved him onto the gurney.

"What have we got here?" Vince Howard's voice brought Johnny back to reality.

"Vince. Vince!" Johnny called out, each word again punching his gut, each word causing involuntary tears to run down his face.

"Johnny ,is that you," the black cop kneeled down to the wounded paramedic.

"Vince ,do me a favor call Roy, Roy DeSoto at home tell'em I'm goin to Rampart," each word lanced pain through his whole body.

"Johnny Gage is that you," Vince leaned a little bit more. "Hang in there ,Johnny."

"Yeah ,Vince I will… just call Roy," Johnny yelled out as he was lifted into the ambulance.

"See you at Rampart," the other paramedic called out.

It took every ounce of energy to stay awake and not give into the pain. He could feel each bump and pothole on the short ride to Rampart. Rampart where he swore never to set foot in again. Johnny hadn't told Roy how much he could never work with him because of the bastards at Rampart.

"Gage, you know we can call it in and get some MS," one of the paramedics asked. "You don't have to pull this macho shit, you know."

Johnny opened his eyes to slits and looked at the smarmy paramedic.

"NO fucking MS," Johnny tried to shout but it came out a whisper. The ambulance had slowed meaning they had arrived at their destination.

"Gage, for what its worth. I'll call Roy DeSoto for you," as the ambulance doors opened and the bright white lights made Johnny's eyes hurt.

Johnny knew the paramedic was just saying that, he had seen the look of disgust which was quickly replaced by the professional façade. In fact had seen it in action at the last conference. The jerk wasn't fooling him at all.

Once wheeled into the emergency room, Johnny's breathing became more intense and he tried to calm himself down. He was in Rampart, Rampart.

"Just calm down Gage," the paramedic warned. "They'll fix you up."

Yeah like the last time, out of the department and the paramedics.

Johnny heard Dixie's voice.

"Room 3."

The ambulance attendants pushed him in and then set him not too subtly on the exam room table.

"Okay, we got him," Brackett's cool voice answered.

It left him alone with two people he hated with all his fiber, Dixie McCall and Dr. Kelly Brackett.

"Give me a new set of vitals," Brackett barked.

Johnny could feel the blood pressure cuff but could do nothing. Each breath generated lancing pain through his belly and up to his chest.

Dixie rattled off his vitals, which had gotten steadily worse as they got to Rampart.

"I don't understand this, Harrison said Gage had stabilized," Brackett sounded perplexed.

No shit. I'm in the lion's den. In with the people who got me canned and supposedly you're the smart one.