Roy couldn't stop pacing the waiting room, occasionally looking up at any sign of movement. They'd gotten him here alive, though Roy knew Johnny's condition was dire.

He couldn't get the image of Johnny's mangled leg out of his mind. No wonder he couldn't feel anything until Chet and Marco had managed to move that last piece that was holding him there. It was a freak injury, to be sure, something that could only happen to Johnny.

Maybe months from now, they'd be able to crack jokes about it, but right now, all Roy could do was worry. He couldn't help feeling a little relieved that he hadn't had to make that ultimate decision. He wasn't sure he could have followed through.

The guilt rushed in, displacing the worry for a moment. Johnny had been in danger, and here he was, unable to face the idea of helping him the best way he knew how. Still, after looking at the condition of Johnny's leg, he wasn't sure it could be saved.

Well, that was up to the Rampart crew now. What the hell was taking them so long, anyway?

"Roy," Cap's hand landed on his shoulder.

Roy let out a huff. "If you guys hadn't been able to get him out—"

"But we were able to," Cap asserted. "They're going to take good care of him, you know that."

Roy glanced in the direction of the treatment rooms. "I just want him to be okay, and well, I'm not sure he's gonna be. You saw for yourself."

Cap was silent for a long moment before letting out a huff of his own. "If anyone can bounce back from this, it's Johnny."

Roy knew Cap was trying to be comforting, but it felt hollow. Even Johnny's body obeyed the laws of physics, and there were some injuries a man just couldn't come back from. Even if by some miracle the surgeons were able to put Johnny back together, he wouldn't be the same.

No, he had to face the likelihood that Johnny's life was irrevocably changed, and with that, Roy's life was going to change, too. What would become of Johnny? Maybe he could work in dispatch once he recovered, or maybe he could teach paramedic classes.

But he wasn't sure Johnny would be satisfied doing that. This was what he loved, what he lived for. What would he do, if not this?

Roy realized he was asking as much on his own behalf as he was on Johnny's. If it were Roy in that position, what would he want to do? He had no idea.

He shifted back to lean against the back of the chair, staring out into nothing. Right now, he'd just be grateful if Johnny survived this. He'd do whatever he could to help him through the recovery process, though of course, things wouldn't be the same.

Finally, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and Brackett came out of the treatment room as the gurney carrying Johnny started toward the elevator. The exhaustion and concern showed on his face as he approached Roy and the crew.

Brackett glanced around the crew before crossing his arms over his chest. "He's stable. They're taking him up to surgery to see what can be done about his leg."

Roy was almost afraid to ask. "You think they can save it?"

Brackett frowned slightly, glancing at the floor briefly before looking back up at Roy. "I'll be honest, Roy. It doesn't look good."

A collective murmur went through the crew, and Roy swallowed hard, even though he had known what the likely answer would be. "Brackett, if he wakes up without a leg—"

"I think he knew something was very wrong," Brackett cut him off. "They'll do the best they can, you know that."

Roy didn't find that terribly comforting, but he nodded. "Thanks, Brackett."

Cap's hand landed on Roy's shoulder. "We'll stand down the station until we hear something."

"Could be a while, Cap."

Cap's brows knitted together. "I know. Wouldn't be right to leave."

Roy swallowed hard, managing to nod in response. "Think I'll call Jo."

He found a pay phone and dropped in a dime, dialing and waiting for Joanne to pick up. "DeSoto residence, this is Joanne."

"Jo," Roy blurted out, "it's me. We're at Rampart with Johnny. Don't have a lot of details but…it looks bad. He's in surgery right now."

"Oh, Roy," Joanne's voice was tinged with concern. "What happened?"

Roy gave her a quick explanation. "I'm not sure they're gonna be able to put him back together."

"Modern medicine can do an awful lot, Roy," Joanne reminded him gently. "Let's just hope for the best. If the worst happens, well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Right," Roy wasn't entirely convinced. "The crew and I are gonna go wait for him. I'll keep in touch. Oh, and don't tell the kids just yet. I'll explain it to them when I get home."

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Roy hung up and made his way to the base station, where Dixie was working on some paperwork. "Hey, Dix. You don't happen to know where they took Johnny?"

Dixie frowned as she went through a pile of patient charts. "Third floor. Let him know we're thinking of him."

"I will," Roy answered. "Thanks."

He returned to the crew in the waiting room to let them know, and they all stepped on to the elevator together. The ride was silent, and Roy imagined they were all worried for Johnny, even if no one wanted to come out and say it.

As soon as they stepped off the elevator, Roy made his way to the reception desk. The nurse looked up with a smile. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm looking for John Gage," Roy told her. "He was brought up here for surgery a little while ago."

The nurse went through a pile of paperwork. "Yes, he's here. It could be a long wait, just so you're aware. May I have your name?"

"Roy DeSoto," Roy answered. "I'm his emergency contact. We'll be here waiting. Just have someone come find me."

"I'll let the surgeon know."

Roy nodded and returned to the waiting area. Cap and Mike were passing out coffee, and somehow a cup was shoved into Roy's hand. He took a sip of the acrid brew and immediately set it aside.

They talked among themselves about everything but the situation at hand, but Roy couldn't concentrate. He kept glancing at the door to the operating rooms, hoping against hope that the surgeon would soon emerge.

It was going to be a long wait, he knew that. He had to keep reminding himself to keep his impatience at bay. Finally, he went through the pile of magazines in search of something to read, finding a copy of Newsweek and flipping through it idly before setting it aside with a huff.

Cap glanced up at him, but Roy merely shook his head. "Think I'm gonna take a walk. Clear my head."

"You want some company?" Mike asked.

Roy was surprised at the offer but nodded. "Sure."

They started down the long hallway, past recovery rooms where other patients were visiting with their loved ones, whether they were chatting or simply sitting quietly. Roy realized he had little idea what to expect, despite the number of times he and Johnny had ended up here.

It had never been so severe that they had needed surgical intervention.

"Waiting's hard," Mike finally commented. "One of my Army buddies had to go into the base hospital when we were in training. Appendicitis, can you believe it? Anyway, back in those days it was a long surgery. Man, it was a long wait. Nothing like this, I guess, but still hard."

"Well, suffering isn't a game of 'Can You Top This?', is it?" Roy answered with a harsh laugh.

"No, it's not," Mike admitted. "And I'm not going to pretend I understand what you're going through. But you two are close. I imagine it's hard to see him like this."

Roy swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah. You know, he bounces, he doesn't break. Usually."

"If he breaks, he'll heal," Mike told him.

"He won't be the same."

"Might not be," Mike responded. "But he'll adapt in time."

"I hope so."

They reached the end of the hallway, where there was another waiting area with a vending machine. "You want something?" Mike offered.

Roy shook his head. "Not hungry. Couldn't even stomach that coffee."

Mike smiled slightly at that. "It's pretty bad. Wonder how old that Snickers bar is?"

Roy couldn't help laughing at that. "Bet it dates back to at least the Kennedy administration."

"Nah," Mike answered casually as he put in some change. "That's late Eisenhower administration at least."

Roy appreciated Mike's attempt at humor, even though things seemed a little dark at the moment.

"You know, Johnny was trying to make me feel better," Mike told him as they started back. "Something about leaving me holding the bag."

Roy couldn't help laughing at that. "Well, you literally were."

"It was pretty remarkable, really," Mike continued. "He was pretty lucid. If it was me, I don't think I could have held it together like that."

"That's just the way he is," Roy answered. "He's a strange cat. Gets upset about the small stuff, but when the chips are down, there's no one I'd rather be teamed up with."

Something about that triggered the emotion in Roy, and he swallowed hard to keep it at bay. Mike laid a hand on his shoulder. "One way or another, Roy, he's going to be okay. We've got to believe that."

Roy had his doubts but nodded. "Right. Appreciate this, Mike."

Mike squeezed Roy's shoulder and let him go, and they both sat down in the waiting area. It seemed like an eternity passed before the doors swung open and someone emerged, stopping at the desk before being directed over to the crew.

Roy took a deep breath as he rose from the chair, accompanied by the crew. The surgeon glanced around. "Which one of you is Roy DeSoto?"

"That's me," Roy answered immediately. "How's he doing?"

"He's stable," the surgeon spoke carefully, "but his leg sustained a lot of damage. There was very little blood flow, and we couldn't restore it, so unfortunately, we had to amputate the limb."

Roy's stomach sunk. He had feared as much when he saw what condition Johnny's leg was in once they were able to extricate him. All that careful work and for what?

"I'm sorry, Mister DeSoto," the surgeon spoke again. "We did all we could for him."

"I know," Roy answered quietly. "When can we see him?"

"He's still in recovery. Once he comes out of anesthesia, we'll allow you to see him. The rest of you will have to wait."

"Thank you," Roy was still reeling, and he felt himself being guided into a chair.

Cap kneeled down in front of him. "Remember, he's still alive. That's no small thing. He can recover from this. Just means he'll have to serve in a different capacity, that's all."

Roy couldn't help but think of all the things Johnny loved to do. Hiking, climbing, camping. He was constantly in motion. It was hard to imagine what he'd do now. "I know you're right, Cap. I know."

"Man, that really stinks," Chet blurted out. "He's gonna be pissed when he finds out they chopped off his damn leg."

"Chet," Marco scolded him.

"Sorry," Chet had the grace to look embarrassed at his outburst. "Hell, I can't be the only one thinking that."

"You're not," Roy told him quietly. Everyone turned to look at him, and he simply shrugged. "It's true. This changes, well, a lot. Not exactly something you bounce back from."

"My uncle lost his leg in Korea," Marco spoke up. "It took him some time, but he learned to adapt. He likes scaring kids at Halloween by taking off his leg in front of them."

Roy couldn't help laughing along with the rest of the crew. "I can see Johnny doing that."

Marco moved down to sit with Roy while the rest of the crew talked among themselves. "Listen, it's going to be hard, but it's not the end of the world. Johnny's tough. He'll adapt, too."

"You're right, I know you're right," Roy sighed.

"Mister DeSoto?" the nurse called out.

Roy rose from the chair and made his way to the desk, and the nurse smiled gently. "He's in recovery room two, right that way. He's alert and ready for a visitor."

"Thank you."

It felt like a long walk, and Roy dreaded facing Johnny. How would he take this, especially after all they had done to get him out in one piece?

Just do what you have to do, Johnny's words rang in Roy's ears as he approached the room and pushed open the door. It wasn't immediately obvious that anything was different until Roy noticed the way the covers lay across Johnny's legs.

"Roy?" Johnny murmured, blinking slowly.

"Yeah, it's me," Roy told him as he approached the bed and pulled up a chair. "They wouldn't let anyone else in just yet."

"Who else is out there?" Johnny seemed puzzled.

"The whole crew," Roy told him. "Cap had the station stood down until you got out of surgery."

"Yeah, I remember Brackett telling me I was going into surgery," Johnny responded. "He wouldn't tell me for what. Not that I can't guess."

"Johnny, they did the best they could," Roy rushed to explain. "They just couldn't…well, they didn't have a choice."

Johnny was silent, and Roy didn't know what else to say. Finally, Johnny let out a short sigh. "You shoulda done it while we were still out there."

"I couldn't do that to you."

"I told you to do what you needed to do," Johnny replied sharply. "That's your problem, Roy, you don't listen."

"You think I wanted that on my conscience?" Roy asked with equal sharpness. "If something had gone wrong out there—"

"It doesn't matter," Johnny's voice was quiet, though it had a distinct edge to it. "Turned out just the same, didn't it?"

"Johnny, you know good and damn well it would've been risky out there," Roy argued.

Johnny didn't respond for a long moment, only staring straight ahead. "I was counting on you to do the right thing."

"I did," Roy shot back, "and so did the rest of the crew."

Roy reached for Johnny's hand, and though Johnny didn't pull away, he made no move to acknowledge Roy's gesture. Understandable, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

"Johnny, I promise you, whatever you need from here, I'm here," Roy told him.

Johnny nodded and briefly squeezed Roy's hand. "Kinda tired, Roy."

"I'm sure you are," Roy replied, releasing Johnny's hand. "I'll let the rest of the crew know you're...well, that you're doing as well as can be expected."

Johnny didn't respond, and so Roy left the recovery room to return to the waiting area.

"How's he doing?" Chet asked.

Roy shrugged. "About as well as can be expected. Probably has a long recovery ahead of him. Not much to be done right now until they take him to a room."

Cap nodded. "Then we'll head back to the station. I'm sure C shift is wondering where we are."

That garnered a slight laugh from the rest of the crew, and they started toward the elevator. It was a silent ride back down to the emergency room, and as they walked through, Roy couldn't help replaying the whole scene, from the initial rescue, to the extrication, to what seemed like an impossibly long ride to the hospital.

There wasn't a damn thing he could have done differently. He'd given those guys every opportunity to get Johnny out safely, and they'd done just that. Would it have made a difference if they'd been able to get him out sooner, or if Roy had performed the field amputation?

Turned out just the same, didn't it?

He barely heard Dixie call out to him as he passed the desk, just enough to catch his attention and make him backtrack.

Her expression was full of concern. "How's he doing?"

"They had to amputate," Roy told her. "They couldn't restore blood flow and…there was just too much damage. Dammit, Dix, I should have…well, if I hadn't chickened out—"

"I sincerely doubt you chickened out, Roy," Dixie cut him off firmly. "I know that if it came right down to it, you would have done what needed to be done."

"Doesn't make me feel any better."

"No, I can't imagine it does," Dixie replied quietly, reaching for his hand and covering it with hers. "You know as well as anyone that doing your best sometimes just isn't enough."

"Right," Roy huffed. "Still feel like I let him down, somehow. You should've seen him, Dix. I don't know if I can face him again."

"You will," Dixie told him, "Because he's your friend above all else, and he'll need you. He'll come to understand in time."

Roy turned that over in his mind, taking his time before responding. "I sure as hell hope so. Thanks, Dix. I'll see you around."

Dixie responded with a reassuring smile and a pat on his hand, and Roy returned to the squad. The engine had already headed back to the station, leaving Roy on his own.

He sat for a long time, suddenly struck by the fact that Johnny wasn't in the passenger seat beside him, and likely never would be again, all because some stupid damn kids were screwing around setting fires in an abandoned building.

"God damn it." Roy slammed his fist hard against the steering wheel, the anger rising at the unfairness of it all. This wasn't right. Johnny should be right here, or at the very least resting comfortably in a room while everyone else ribbed him for yet another unfortunate injury.

What would happen from here? He'd get another partner, certainly, probably a series of temporary replacements until someone more permanent was assigned. But it would never be the same. He and Johnny had worked side by side for so long that Roy had trouble imagining having that kind of partnership with anyone else.

And what of Johnny? Roy had no idea.

None of those questions would be answered right now. Best to return to the station and go from there.

He started the squad and headed back to the station, almost on automatic pilot, and soon he was backing into the station, just like he did after every run. As soon as he shut off the squad and climbed down, Dwyer was waiting.

"Heard about Johnny," he spoke quietly. "Damn shame."

"Yeah," Roy nodded. "Sorry for getting back so late."

"It's no problem," Dwyer waved a hand dismissively. "Stanley had us stood down until you got back anyway. Got morning chores out of the way already."

Roy knew he should be giving Dwyer a briefing, but he could hardly put together a coherent thought. And he still needed to fill out the logbook. Christ, he just wanted to go home.

"Roy?" Dwyer's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Right, yeah," Roy shook his head.

He went over the runs they'd had the previous shift, studiously avoiding the last one. "Didn't get a chance to restock, so you'll need to make a run to Rampart. I'll get the log filled out before I go home."

"No problem, we'll do that right now," Dwyer nodded. "And let us know when Johnny's ready for visitors, okay?"

"I will."

Roy made his way to the office and pulled out the logbook, sitting at the table and filling it out. It had been a perfectly normal day until that last one.

He paused for a moment before he started writing. As he did so, he found himself putting off writing about the rescue. But not logging it wouldn't make it any less real.

…Code I, male, age 27.

Young. Goddammit, so young, not much younger than him. Young enough that he could recover and do something else with his life, surely, but this was what Johnny loved. He loved rescue, he'd made that clear on their first meeting. But he'd met the challenge the paramedic program offered and learned to love that, too.

He wondered if Johnny was asking himself the same question. Now what?

Finally, he forced himself to finish, putting the book back on the shelf, pausing for a moment before pulling his hand away and going to the locker room to change.

The rest of A shift was long gone by the time Roy left, and he drove home, pulling into the garage. How many times had Johnny followed him home after a shift, coming in for breakfast with Jo and the kids, getting down on the floor and letting them crawl all over him? In so many ways, he was like one of the kids, and something stabbed at Roy when he thought about that. The kids would have questions, and Roy didn't know how he was going to answer them just yet.

He shut off the car and climbed out, heading into the house. It was quiet, the kids long since off to school. "Jo?"

Joanne emerged with a laundry basket on her hip, meeting him with a kiss. "How's he doing?"

"I don't know, Jo," Roy answered with a heavy sigh. "Okay, I guess, all things considered. They, uh, they had to amputate."

"Oh, Roy," Joanne set the basket down and gathered Roy in a tight hug.

"I mean, he's alive, and that's what matters," Roy told her, as much to convince her as to convince himself.

"Of course, I know that," Joanne replied, "and we'll help him in any way we can."

Roy released Joanne and started toward the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee, and Joanne wasn't far behind. "When he gets released, he can stay here. Surely that would be easier than him trying to get up and down the stairs to his apartment."

This was so like Joanne, already planning. Something else occurred to him. "We should go back to the station. The Rover's still there."

That made something twist deep inside him. Johnny loved that damn thing. And if he had to get rid of it—

No, one thing at a time. He was getting too far ahead of things.

"We will," Joanne answered as she poured a cup for herself. "And we should go see him when he's up to it."

Roy nodded, leaning against the counter and staring into his cup. "We're gonna have to explain it to the kids."

"They'll understand," Joanne assured him.

Roy blinked hard, surprised by his own emotional reaction. "Everything's gonna be different, Jo."

"I know," Joanne replied quietly, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around him. "We'll get used to it in time."

"Hope so."

"We will, and so will he," Joanne told him firmly. "We'll be right here with him."

Roy turned around and gathered Joanne in his arms, kissing her cheek. He knew she was right. It would just take time. How much time, no one knew yet. But eventually, things would be okay.

At least, he hoped so.