The fire surrounded him and Roy on all sides, the smoke so thick he could hardly see. "Roy?"

"Yeah!"

Okay, he was right in front of him. They weren't far from the exit now, he could sense it. Just a few more steps and—

There was a loud, crackling sound, a sound that let Johnny know they were in trouble if they didn't hurry up. "Roy, we've gotta go!"

He started running, but the exit didn't seem to be getting any closer. And something didn't feel right. It was as if the faster he tried to run, the slower he ended up running.

Left…left…where was the right? It should have been left, right, left, right? Why couldn't he feel the right?

"Roy?" he called out, "Roy, where are you? Don't leave me!"

He tried to take another step, but there was nothing there. He stumbled, lost in the smoke and fire. It was almost as if his own body was crumbling, but he had to keep going. He had to get out of here.

"Roy?!" he called out one more time, but there was no response. "Roy!"

He took one last step, and whatever was left of his leg crumbled under him, sending him sprawling to the floor. He wasn't going to make it. He'd been abandoned. This couldn't be happening. Roy wouldn't do this to him.

He dragged himself across the floor, looking over his shoulder. What was that behind him? Was that—

A scream awakened Johnny, his eyes flying open. Just as he was finding his bearings, the door opened and a pair of nurses and an orderly rushed in, gently guiding him back down to lay against the pillow.

"Calm down," the nurse told him firmly. "You're okay. You just had a bad dream."

Johnny was still breathing heavily, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his ears. There was no fire, no smoke. Just him and this hospital room. He'd been hurt, he remembered that. He and Roy had been sweeping that building looking for the kids that had set off the fires. Something had blown up, the floor had collapsed under him, he was trapped.

Just do what you need to do, he remembered telling Roy. Had he done that? He knew something didn't feel right, like there was something missing.

"Here, have a drink," the same nurse told him. "The doctor will be in to check on you in a while."

He took the cup from the nurse, sucking in a long drink through the straw. The monitors that kept track of his respirations and heartbeat slowed down, the shrill beepbeepbeepbeep replaced with beep…beep…beep…beep.

"That's better," the nurse spoke in a soothing tone. "Nice and easy, now."

Johnny almost wanted to laugh, but every breath hurt. How often had he said some version of that over the years? Take it easy, man, take it easy. Sometimes it worked to settle someone down, sometimes it didn't.

"Hello," the doctor's voice drew Johnny's attention. "Let's take a look at you, shall we?"

Johnny shifted a little, not sure what to expect. The doctor glanced at him with a steely look. "What have you been told about your condition?"

"Not much," Johnny answered. "Kinda had an idea it wasn't good."

The doctor nodded. "You're a paramedic?"

"Yeah. Almost five years now. Came in when the program started."

The doctor smiled. Doctor Taylor, Johnny could make out his name tag now. "I'm sure you've seen a lot in that time."

"More than I should've, probably."

Doctor Taylor's expression turned more sober. "I want you to know that the surgeon did everything he could to try and save your leg. But, what with the lack of blood flow and the nerve damage…well, there wasn't anything to save. I'm sorry."

Something twisted deep in the pit of Johnny's stomach. He'd known, somehow, what the outcome would be. He'd known it while he was still trapped. Christ, he would have been better off if Roy had just—

There was no point in rehashing that decision now. Roy had done what he believed to be the right thing, and Johnny could hardly fault him for that. He wasn't sure that he could have done the same had Roy been in that position.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. "Okay."

Doctor Taylor pulled back the covers, revealing what was left of Johnny's leg, wrapped up in layers of bandages. Even though Johnny had almost been expecting this, it was still a shock to see his leg just…gone.

"I'm going to unwrap this so I can see how you're healing," Doctor Taylor explained.

"Okay."

Johnny's mind was reeling. That was it. His life as he knew it was over. He wouldn't be returning to the fire department, not in the way he once was.

Something hitched in his chest, and he swallowed hard to tamp down the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. He wasn't going to lose it, not in front of this doctor. Not in front of anyone.

Doctor Taylor paused. "I know it's a shock."

Johnny shrugged, trying to be casual. "Kinda expected it."

Doctor Taylor nodded. "Even when it's expected, it's still a shock for a lot of people. It's normal."

"Just get on with it," Johnny snapped quietly.

Doctor Taylor pressed his lips together and continued his work, finally unwrapping the bandages and examining the area closely. "You're healing as expected. We'll keep you here and keep an eye on it. Now that your condition is stabilized, we'll start working on getting you up and moving around. If I remember correctly, you broke several ribs as well."

That explained why it hurt so much to breathe. "Makes sense."

"Well, we'll proceed carefully," Doctor Taylor told him. "We don't want you to overexert yourself."

Johnny nodded mutely while Doctor Taylor wrapped what was left of his leg up and pulled the covers over him. He picked up the chart from the end of Johnny's bed and made some notes before hanging it back up. After a moment he spoke again. "You know, lots of people go on to live relatively normal lives after amputation. There's been some terrific advancements in prosthesis technology. We'll have you up and moving before you know it. You're pretty lucky, all things considered."

Lucky. Johnny could only scoff at that. He was lying in a hospital bed with most of a leg missing, with no chance of returning to the job he had come to love so much. Little chance of doing all the outdoor activities he loved. Hell, he wouldn't even be able to drive the Rover.

"Yeah, lucky," Johnny finally answered. "Real lucky."

Doctor Taylor seemed to ignore Johnny's tone, tucking his pen back into his pocket. "I'll put in an order for you to start physical therapy. Once you're healed up, we can start talking about options for a prosthesis. Your life's not over, John, even if it feels like it is right now."

With that, Doctor Taylor left, leaving Johnny alone with his thoughts. What was he going to do now? Maybe his life wasn't over, but it had forever changed. There was always dispatch, he supposed, though he wasn't thrilled at the idea. And there were other desk jobs within the department he could do.

Ah, who the hell was he kidding? None of those jobs were even close to the action he'd gotten so used to. He was a rescue man through and through, and now that he wasn't able to do that…well, he'd just have to figure out something else.

The door cracked open, and someone tapped on the door before sticking their head inside. "Hey. You feel like some company?"

"Sure," Johnny answered, "come on in. Wasn't doing anything anyway."

Chet stepped inside, followed by Marco. His expression was briefly alarmed before he covered it with a slight smile. "How're you doing?"

Johnny shrugged. "Hard to say."

Chet sank into a chair while Marco produced a Thermos and set it on the tray table. "I brought you some chili if you're up for it."

"Hey, thanks," Johnny did feel his mood lift a little at that. "Hard to feel too bad when I'm eating your chili."

"Only afterward," Chet cracked.

Marco merely shook his head. "You're the only one that suffers. Johnny here has a cast iron stomach."

Johnny couldn't help laughing a little at that. "Yeah, Chet has a delicate constitution. He can't handle that stuff."

Marco snickered while Chet let out a huff. They continued to crack jokes at each other, and it was a good distraction from his current state. He couldn't help noticing, however, that Chet kept glancing at the space where his right leg should have been.

There was really no avoiding it, Johnny knew that. Maybe it was better to just talk about it now rather than continuing to put it off.

He shifted a little and pulled back the covers to reveal the wrapped stump. Chet's eyes went a little wide, while Marco let out a low whistle.

"Didn't leave you much, did they?" Chet blurted out, immediately looking as if he regretted it. "Sorry. I just…shit."

"You'll be able to wear a prosthetic leg," Marco told him. "My uncle lost his leg in Korea and uses one. He gets around just fine. Last year for Halloween, he dressed up as a pirate with the peg leg and everything."

"What're you gonna do now, Johnny?" Chet asked.

"Chet." Marco chastised him in a low tone.

"Marco, it's alright," Johnny told him with a sigh. "Truth is, I don't know. Guess I'll have a desk job or something. Can't do what I was doing."

"Sounds pretty miserable if you ask me," Chet responded.

"Well, no one asked you, did they?" Johnny snapped.

"Sorry," Chet mumbled.

"Hey, listen," Marco interjected, "Johnny, I know you'll figure it out. It's just going to take some time, that's all."

"Right," Johnny huffed. "Sorry, Chet. Didn't mean to blow up at you."

"And I didn't mean to put you down," Chet told him. "You're going to be okay, I know that. You always bounce back. If you think about it, you're pretty lucky. Could have been a lot worse."

Marco sighed heavily. "Chet, we should go before you stick your foot any further in your mouth. Johnny, we'll come see you again soon, okay?"

"Okay," Johnny felt a little deflated. "See you guys around."

Both men left, and Johnny traced his finger along the pattern on the Thermos bottle. Lucky, lucky, lucky. Everyone was telling him how lucky he was. Sure, he supposed things could be worse. He could have died. That would have been worse, though he wouldn't have been around to make the comparison.

The rest of the day was a flurry of staff in and out of his room, evaluating, checking monitors, asking questions. So many questions. Eventually he got tired of it and snapped at one of the nurses, who gave him such a look that he immediately regretted it.

Finally, he was alone again, just in time for someone else to knock on his door. The door opened slightly, and Dixie came in, greeting him with her usual warm smile.

"Hey, Dix," Johnny greeted her, "good to see ya."

"Good to see you, too," Dixie took a seat in the chair next to the bed. "I hear you've been giving some of these nurses a hard time."

"I didn't mean to," Johnny could feel himself flush. "Guess I just got poked and prodded one time too many today."

"You're never exactly a model patient," Dixie chided him. She glanced at the Thermos bottle on the tray table. "I see someone brought you some goodies."

"Chet and Marco were up here earlier," Johnny explained, "Marco brought me some of his chili."

"I'll bet that'll be a nice change from regular hospital food."

"Yeah, yeah," Johnny started to trace the pattern of the bottle again.

They were both silent for a moment until Dixie spoke again. "Roy hasn't been up here?"

"Not since I got out of surgery," Johnny answered, "but it's okay. I know he's busy. You know, with Jo and the kids."

Dixie nodded. "I'm sure he'll come around."

Johnny played with a loose string on the blanket. "Kinda don't blame him."

"Not for the reasons you might think," Dixie pointed out, "But you two should probably talk about that."

Johnny swallowed hard at that. "I don't know. Not much to talk about, is there?"

"Johnny, you two are more than partners, you know that. You're friends, close friends. You two have seen each other through some tough times."

"Times are pretty damn tough right now."

"They are," Dixie acknowledged, "But you'll get through this, and so will he."

There was yet another knock at the door, and as the door swung open, Johnny could see Roy slipping inside. He glanced at Dixie for a moment. "Hey, Dix."

"Roy," Dixie rose from the chair and squeezed Johnny's hand. "I should head home. I've been here too long as it is. I'll see you another time, Johnny."

"Bye, Dix," Johnny answered, squeezing her hand in response.

Dixie gently laid her hand on Roy's shoulder as he left, and Roy acknowledged that with a nod before settling into the chair Dixie had just vacated. "I see Marco's been to see ya."

"Yeah, he brought chili and Chet," Johnny answered.

"That was nice of him."

"I suppose," Johnny responded. "About took Chet's head off, though."

"Ah, you know he can't help sticking his foot in his mouth," Roy told him.

"I know, I know," Johnny huffed, "But if he was trying to make me feel any better, he did a pretty bad job of it."

"Pretty hard to make this sound good," Roy commented.

Johnny was silent for a long moment. Finally, he let out a long sigh. "Yeah, don't think there's any way I'm coming back from this. Better find yourself another partner."

"Won't be the same."

"'Course it won't," Johnny told him. "I'm sure the department can find me something to do. Anything so they don't have to pay out a disability pension."

Roy cracked a smile at that, and Johnny had to admit he felt a little relieved. But the smile soon faded as he glanced away. "You know, you're probably right. I should have taken care of that while we were on scene."

"Roy, there's no point in rehashing it. Doesn't make a lick of difference," Johnny responded. "I'm just gonna work on getting back on my feet. Foot. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do," Roy nodded. "When you get out, we'll set you up at the house. No reason for you to mess with all those stairs at your place if you don't have to."

"Gonna have to eventually."

"Sure, but not right now," Roy asserted.

Johnny considered that. It would probably be easier to crash at the DeSotos', even though it would seriously cut into the alone time he cherished so much. "Have you told the kids?"

"Yeah," Roy nodded. "Not sure they really understand what happened, but we did our best to explain it to them."

"They'll figure it out soon enough," Johnny replied.

After a beat, Roy spoke again. "Look, we don't want you to worry about a damn thing. Whatever you need, we'll help."

As much as Johnny hated the thought of relying so heavily on Roy and Joanne, it was probably going to be necessary for a while. "I'll try not to be in the way."

"C'mon, Johnny," Roy scoffed, "You won't be in the way. You know that."

"Well, still. I'm not trying to become a, uh, permanent fixture."

"Sure, I know," Roy answered. "Whenever you're ready to go home, you'll go. In the meantime, there's nothing wrong with making things a little easier for a while. But we can get that figured out once they let you out of here."

Johnny nodded at that, his mind wandering for a moment. "The Rover still at the station?"

"Nope, Joanne and I got it back to your place."

"Good," Johnny replied. "Should probably think about selling it."

"What? Why?"

"Stick shift," Johnny explained. "Don't see how I'll be able to drive it now."

"Oh, yeah," Roy's face seemed to fall a little as he threaded his hands together and stared down at them. "Guess I should have thought of that."

"Not your fault."

Roy looked up then, his gaze steady. "You're sure about that?"

Johnny let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I'm sure. If you'd done the amputation out there or not, it didn't really make much of a difference. Pretty sure I was screwed either way."

"Was hoping you'd come out of it a little less screwed."

"Well sure, so did I," Johnny answered more sharply than he intended. "But, well, this is it. This is what I have to deal with. Might as well accept it."

Roy shook his head. "You're sure dealing with this better than I thought you would."

Johnny shrugged. "Maybe I'm trying to tell myself as much as anyone else."

Roy managed a smile at that. "The power of positive thinking?"

"Don't know about that."

They talked for a while longer until Roy finally rose from his chair. "I should be getting home. If you want, I'll bring Jo and the kids next time I come."

Something in Johnny lifted at that. "I'd like that."

Roy nodded, his hand resting on the bed railing. "Think maybe you're gonna be okay after all."

"Maybe."

With that, Roy left, and Johnny rested his head against the pillow for a moment before turning on the TV and clicking through a few channels before settling on something. He tried to pay attention for a while but found himself fading in and out.

He woke up when the door opened, revealing the evening nurse. This one was kinder, not like the older one he had apparently offended earlier. She greeted him with a warm smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's okay," Johnny shifted a little, wincing as he did so.

The nurse frowned. "I believe you're due for your next dose of pain medicine."

"Don't need it."

The nurse's expression changed to something more sympathetic. "Tough guy, huh? Well, I'll just leave it here on your tray table. Let's check your vitals, shall we?"

She took his blood pressure and pulse, noting both in his chart before giving him another smile. "Everything looks good. If you need anything, just hit the button, okay?"

"Thanks."

Johnny watched her leave. She was cute, he had to admit, and any other time he probably would have tried to talk to her. But as it stood right now, what did he really have to offer? Not much, he figured.

No, looking would just have to do.

He settled back in and turned the TV back on, switching to another show. Before long the door opened again. It was one of the orderlies with the meal delivery cart. He greeted Johnny with a smile and a nod. "Evening."

"Hey."

The orderly noticed the Thermos bottle on the tray table. "Contraband, huh?"

Johnny couldn't help laughing at that. "Friends of mine brought some chili earlier."

"That was nice of them," the orderly responded. "Hey, I can probably track down an extra bowl and a spoon if you want."

"That'd be great, thanks."

"Sure, it's no problem," the orderly replied. "I'll be back around in a few."

"Hey, bring one for yourself," Johnny offered. "I'll share if you want."

The orderly's face broke out in a grin. "I'll do that."

He returned a short time later with two bowls, setting them both down on the tray table, and Johnny opened up the Thermos to pour the chili into both bowls. "There you go."

"That smells damn good," the orderly told him. "Guess it's true that firemen make the best chili."

"Well, I don't wanna brag, but Marco's chili is pretty good stuff," Johnny answered.

The orderly took a bite, nodding affirmatively. "Sure is. Thanks."

"Yeah, sure."

The orderly left soon after, and Johnny dug into his own bowl. It was a far better alternative than what was on the hospital's menu. Some things never changed.

Soon Johnny had eaten his fill and decided to take the pain medication after all. If it knocked him out, who cared? It wasn't as if he was going anywhere.

A depressing thought, to be sure. Johnny pushed the thought aside as he settled back and turned his attention back to the TV. With any luck, he'd get some decent sleep, though he wasn't counting on it.

Tomorrow would be another day, and maybe things would start to get better then.