Late Again by Mary Cull Hurrying along the 405, the young Los Angeles County paramedic glanced down at his watch for about the tenth time in as many minutes. He was late for work again. Second shift in a row. Cap's gonna have me on latrine duty for...forever! He thought to himself as he maneuvered his vehicle forward through the heavy morning traffic. Grimacing, he stepped on the accelerator a bit harder, urging his vehicle to go just a little faster. The young man glanced down at his speedometer, realizing he was just going over the posted speed limit allowed and pushed on the gas pedal still harder. A few more miles per hour wouldn't hurt, and he noticed with some gratification that he was, after all, only keeping up with the flow of traffic. Everyone was speeding this morning, he realized, as he watched someone practically fly by him in a bright blue pickup truck. But this person was really over-doing it. "What the..." the paramedic started, momentarily speaking out loud and shaking his head in disbelief as he noticed the driver of the pickup easily passing all of the already speeding vehicles on the highway, veering dangerously from lane to lane in order to do so. Man, that guy must be doing over ninety miles an hour the young man mused to himself. He's going to get into an accident! Where are the cops when you need them? Driving continuously, temporarily forgetting the somewhat maniacal speeder in the blue truck, who was by now out of his range of vision, the young man soon found himself forced to brake and slow right down as the rush hour traffic became congested. For the next several minutes it was stop and go along the 405 and he slapped the steering wheel impatiently, wondering how much longer than usual it would take him to get to work. Fortunately, he was not that far away and he was used to this early morning slow-down, bumper to bumper ritual, but it didn't make him feel any better, knowing he would still not be anywhere near on time. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he saw his exit off the highway and drove his Land Rover as quickly as he could towards the approaching intersection, signaling his intention to turn right. He looked again at his watch and wondered if he should call the fire station to let them know he would be there in a few minutes, but not wanting to stop and waste those few precious moments, thought better of it. Instead, Paramedic John Gage popped the clutch and geared down, going as fast through the busy morning traffic as he dared. His car radio was on, and hearing one of his favorite songs, Johnny reached down, turning the volume way up. The music was so loud he momentarily forgot that he was hurrying to get to work on time. Approaching the next intersection, he watched as the light turned from red to green and smiling, he quickly carried on, happy that he did not have to slow down or stop. He was thankful that he had already changed into his fire department issued uniform at home, realizing this would save him time once he did get to the station. As he started through the lights, he stepped on the gas pedal a little harder, thinking if he could only get through the next intersection without stopping, he would make it to work right on time. Well, almost right on time. Johnny glanced into his rear-view mirror, checking the traffic behind him, but was slightly distracted by a blur of something in his peripheral vision coming readily towards his left as he drove into the intersection. Hey, that's the same truck I saw this morning already on the 405! How'd he beat me here so quickly? Oh yeah, he was going ninety miles an hour! He thought before he could fully grasp what was about to happen. But he'd seen the blue truck a half second too late and his nerves inadvertently grabbed a hold of him as his music blared on. Not thinking, he took the two seconds he needed to reach down and turn off his car radio. Had he not felt his heart flutter with fear at the image of the truck speeding straight towards him, Johnny would have seen the police car chasing after the blue pickup as it attempted to negotiate its way through the intersection. But by the time it registered to him what was going to happen, it was far beyond his capability to react. Johnny tried to jerk his steering wheel to avoid the truck coming at him full speed through the intersection, but it was too late and his effort to avoid the collision was futile. He felt the hard blow of the pickup as it plowed heavily into the driver's side of his vehicle, heard the ugly sounds of crashing metal, screeching tires and finally, police sirens. As the Land Rover suddenly tipped over and slid on its roof across the asphalt from the force of the crash, he felt severe pain as he was pitched forward, cracking his head sharply on the windshield. Johnny barely noticed the glass spraying around him when his vision darkened and he lapsed into unconsciousness before the Land Rover even came to a complete stop. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Captain Hank Stanley poked his head into the kitchen at Station 51 and announced roll call in one minute. Then, he left, walking back into his office, feeling somewhat annoyed. The fact that the younger member of his paramedic team was not yet there did not get by him. Paramedic Roy DeSoto jumped up from his seat at the table and nervously looked towards the door, hoping that his partner and best friend would make it to work on time today. But the minute was soon up and reluctantly, Roy walked out to the bay with the rest of the crew for roll call. He grabbed Fireman Chet Kelly's arm. "Where's Johnny?" the auburn-haired medic asked in a low voice. "How should I know?" Chet whispered back, somewhat annoyed. "He's your partner!" "You were here before me. He didn't call in and book, by any chance, did he?" Roy asked, anxiously looking back and forth from Chet to the captain, who was standing at his office door reading something. DeSoto was hoping against all hope that maybe Kelly had heard something. "No, looks like he's late again. Cap's gonna have his head," the stocky firefighter grinned maliciously. "Looks like, for once, it won't be me who's stuck with latrine duty!" "Well, maybe he has a good excuse for being late this time!" Fireman Marco Lopez responded in defense of Johnny. Chet just snorted and was about to retort when Captain Stanley moved forward with a piece of paper in his hand and went to meet his men. They lined up, as usual, while Stanley eyed them, and then glanced with obvious irritation at his watch. "Roy?" "Yes, Cap," DeSoto answered, somewhat nervously, trying to stand as straight and still as he could. "Where's Gage? He's late again! This is the second shift in a row and I'm not a happy Captain!" "Sorry, Cap. I don't know where he is. Want me to try calling him?" Roy asked, uncomfortably, wondering to himself what could possibly be taking the easily distracted Johnny so long to get to work today. "Yes, and while you're at it, see if Dwyer's still here and can cover for him until he decides to get it together and grace us with his presence," Cap replied, rather sarcastically. "Otherwise, I'll have to take the squad out of service." Roy hurried off in search of the C-shift paramedic, noticing with chagrin that the rest of that crew had already left. Luckily, DeSoto found the man still in the locker room. "Hey, Dwyer, Cap wants to know if you can hold over a while...," Roy started, a frown sweeping over his face as he noticed Dwyer was just in the process of taking off his uniform shirt. But the sandy-haired paramedic laughed and good-naturedly started buttoning the light blue shirt back up. "Sure, I can stay. Johnny late again?" Dwyer asked, grinning. "Yep." "Hey, no problem. I was kinda hoping...I mean I had a feeling...and I can use the overtime." "Thanks, Dwyer, I guess Johnny owes you one," Roy replied, leaving the locker room and walking into the kitchen to use the phone. He called the familiar number of his partner's house, letting it ring close to a dozen times. DeSoto hung up, feeling some relief, and expected to see Johnny walk into the station any minute. The rest of the crew came into the kitchen, to grab a cup of coffee before starting their assigned chores. Roy was dismayed to see Chet Kelly walk over to him, a wide grin on his face. "Hey, Roy, Cap wants you to mop the floors in the dorm and when Johnny gets in, he's to clean the latrine. In fact, that's his own personal chore for the whole month." Roy felt badly for his partner. It was now 8:15 and in order to relieve C-shift and have time to change, Johnny was, technically, over half an hour late. The older medic began to feel uneasy. Johnny had never been this late before. "Hey, Roy, did you get a hold of him or what?" Captain Stanley asked, walking into the kitchen, obviously still very much annoyed by Gage's tardiness. "No, Cap, no answer, he must be on his way," Roy answered, feeling a slight knotting in the pit of his stomach. He was about to get a cup of coffee for himself, when the klaxon tones suddenly sounded. He made an about face, and quickly headed to the bay for the squad, followed closely by the rest of the men. "Station 51, vehicle accident with injuries. Intersection of Maple and Mulholland, Maple and Mulholland. Time out 08:16." Roy jumped into the squad and started the engine as Hank passed the information through the window. DeSoto glanced over at a sleepy-looking Dwyer Fitzpatrick and stated, "Hey that's just around the corner from here." With that, the squad and engine left the station, lights flashing brilliantly and sirens wailing, and headed to their incident. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* The police officers who had been chasing the blue pickup truck, ran from their cruiser towards it, guns drawn, screaming orders for the occupants inside to not move. One of the officers moved cautiously up towards the pickup's driver's side door and peered inside. The two men in the vehicle were quite dazed from their ordeal, but even in their state they knew they were beat. A whole lot of money was lying sprawled all over them and the interior of the truck, which the police knew to be stolen. The cop nodded to his partner as two other police cars pulled up and they quickly closed off the intersection. The Los Angeles Sheriff's deputies moved quickly, as the men inside the blue truck dropped a pistol out the window and raised their arms in defeat above their heads . The officers yanked open the doors and hauled the suspects both out of the vehicle after ascertaining they were not seriously injured. The two shaken fugitives were immediately handcuffed and the deputies allowed them to sit down on the curbside in the event they required even the slightest medical aid. An officer guarded them as they waited for the emergency care vehicles that had been called. As they waited, one deputy walked over towards the Land Rover, which lay precariously on its roof against a pole, and peered in at the lone occupant inside. "Jesus," the veteran cop muttered under his breath, noticing amongst the demolished metal and glass the victim's right arm and the shoulder flash on the light blue shirt. "He's a firefighter." The officer stared in, sickened by the sight of the unfortunate young man who lay unconscious and crumpled in the Land Rover, covered in glass and blood. The cop turned away suddenly, glad to hear the sirens of the approaching emergency vehicles. He noticed gasoline pouring out of the Land Rover and hurried away as it unexpectedly caught fire. "Everyone move back and let the Fire Department handle this!" the deputy yelled, waving the bystanders out of the way and motioning for the squad and engine to enter the accident site area. Roy visibly blanched as he jumped out of the squad and took in the sight of the dreadful scene and the white Land Rover that was on fire, crunched up against a pole, lying upside down on its roof. He had seen the license plate number and immediate recognition set in. For a moment, his head swam and he froze. Then, in a blind panic, he started to run towards it. "Johnny?!" DeSoto called out, his voice shaky with fear. Dwyer noticed the look on Roy's face and instantly followed, catching up with the older medic, grabbing him by the arm and stopping him before he could get to the Land Rover. Fitzpatrick realized with fear that the vehicle on fire was indeed their friend's car, but the horrific sight of it made him think to stop Roy from going any further. He pulled the distraught man back to the squad as Captain Stanley and the fire crew rushed into action, attempting to douse the flames shooting from Johnny's vehicle. Both paramedics rushed to the side compartments of the squad to get the medical gear they knew they would need, or rather hoped they would need. No one wanted to think that Gage might be lying in his Rover, beyond medical aid. Dwyer reached out to touch DeSoto's shoulder as they watched Chet and Marco with an inch and a half, hosing down the white Land Rover. Roy jumped at the touch and felt his legs go suddenly weak. It was indeed a distressing scene for all of Station 51 to be witnessing. "Roy, how 'bout you check those two guys from the other vehicle and...um, I'll check on Johnny," Dwyer offered, slowly, attempting to protect DeSoto from any further trauma should his best friend not have survived the accident, but at the same time, knowing full well that Roy would never agree to that. As expected, Roy shook his head, momentarily unable to speak. Tears welled in his eyes as he fought the lump that had grown uncomfortably in his throat. The auburn-haired medic glanced over at the Land Rover, waiting for the fire to be extinguished and swallowing with difficulty tried desperately to control his emotions. "No, please, I'll go. I need to see him for myself. Dwyer, please, you check those other men from the blue truck," Roy finally managed to whisper out, his eyes never once moving away from Johnny's vehicle. Worriedly, Dwyer agreed and ran over to the two suspects from the truck, which were still in police custody sitting on the curb. Fitzpatrick desperately hoped Gage would be all right, knowing how close he and Roy were. DeSoto picked up his gear and headed towards Johnny's car with wobbly legs as he watched Chet and Marco drop the fire hose and give the all clear sign. Get it together, DeSoto, he chastised himself. Johnny needs you! Approaching the wrecked Rover, Roy saw that Chet, Marco and Engineer Mike Stoker were all now working on trying to open the passenger side door. The driver's door had become part of the pole it was wrapped around and they could not get to it. Captain Stanley caught Roy's arm as he walked over and set the equipment he was carrying down on the pavement. They all knew it was Johnny who was trapped inside. "You okay?" Hank asked, concern mounting for both his paramedics. Roy could only nod his head as he hurried to help his crewmates get his best friend out of the wrecked vehicle. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Dwyer Fitzpatrick jogged over to the Land Rover as an ambulance pulled up to the scene. "Roy, I'm gonna go to Rampart with those two guys. Nothing serious, but they've got some bumps and bruises. How's Johnny?" Roy poked his head out from his best friend's car. He had crawled into the wreck and had, for the last few minutes, been working to extricate Gage. "He's unconscious, bleeding. Finally got the door off, but his leg is pinned under the dashboard. Pulse is slow and weak. He's having difficulty breathing. Still...still trying to get him the hell out of here," DeSoto finished, bringing a hand up to brush a piece of his hair away from his sweat-creased forehead. Dwyer noticed the fearful look on the older paramedic's face. They locked eyes for an instant, and in that instant Dwyer knew how critical Johnny was. He had never seen Roy look more worried. "I've...I've ordered a second ambulance for you, and notified Rampart that Johnny is still trapped in the car. But I can wait if you think you'll need me," Fitzpatrick offered. Roy looked down at Gage, who still was not aware of his surroundings, and shook his head. "No, I can handle things here when we get him out and meet you back at Rampart." Nodding sadly, Fitzpatrick left, victims and a police officer joining him in the ambulance. Roy reached over and grabbed Gage's wrist yet again, as the crew of 51 labored at getting the dashboard off his leg. Mike was just working the K12 and Roy could feel the dash being slowly lifted up as he picked some of the pieces of glass off his partner's head and shoulders. But the dark-haired paramedic was still unconscious. "Dammit!" Roy swore out loud. His partner's pulse rate had dropped again and his breathing was getting more labored. He turned his glance momentarily away from Johnny and saw a deeply concerned looking Chet Kelly bending over the damaged Land Rover, peering inside. A second later, and Roy could feel that the injured man's leg was free. "Chet, I need a backboard and a c-collar," DeSoto murmured. Chet nodded and ran to retrieve the supplies. A moment later, he returned and helped Roy to gently move Johnny over and on top of the backboard. Once in place, he attached the cervical collar around his friend's neck. Kelly pulled the backboard gently over to the side as Roy moved down and carefully pulled Gage's legs out. He nodded to the mustached firefighter that he was ready, and they saw Cap run over to assist. Together, the three men lifted the injured medic out of his demolished Land Rover. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Roy struggled to ignore the nausea that had built up inside him as he, Chet and Hank walked over to the sidewalk and gently lowered Johnny to the ground. DeSoto wasted no time in checking him over, noticing first that his breathing capability was greatly diminished, and knew he would need to intubate him. The younger medic was also bleeding profusely from a head wound. Roy attempted to check Johnny's pupils, but stopped quickly, fear engulfing him as he saw the glass fragments shining inside his best friend's eyes. Trying to block from his mind who he was working on, DeSoto had Kelly establish contact with the hospital. It was only slightly easier to work on your partner when you forced yourself to think of him as another patient that you didn't personally know.  "Rampart this is Squad 51, do you read?" Chet asked, as he spoke into the biophone receiver. Waiting rather impatiently for a reply, he watched Roy go about getting vitals on Johnny. Captain Stanley, Marco and Mike hovered beside them, all concerned and wishing there was something they could do. "Roy, how's he doing?" Cap asked, noticing the paleness of his senior paramedic's complexion. "Not so good. Pulse rate is way down, respirations are...he's stopped breathing! Kelly, get permission from Rampart for an esophageal airway," Roy muttered, stunned and trying not to lose control. As much as he'd been trying not to think that this was Johnny he was working on, DeSoto couldn't help it; he knew this wasn't just another hapless victim. This was his best friend, his partner, and a man he had considered a brother for years. Finally, they recognized Dr. Joe Early's voice on the other end of the biophone. "Go ahead 51, this is Rampart. I understand you have John Gage extricated from the vehicle?" "Affirmative, Rampart. Request permission to establish immediate esophageal airway, he's in respiratory arrest," Chet advised. "10-4, 51. Insert esophageal airway. Give me the vital signs," Dr. Early ordered. "And patch him in. I'd like to see a strip." Roy looked quickly over at Chet. "Pulse 58, BP 100 over 60." Kelly repeated them to the doctor and watched Roy as he inserted the airway. Mike knelt down, squeezing the ventilation into Gage's lungs. As soon as he knew Johnny was getting forced air, DeSoto ripped open the blood-soaked blue paramedic uniform shirt Gage was wearing and began to patch him in so his heart could be monitored. Roy felt his fingers fumbling as he reached over and grabbed the biophone from Chet. "Rampart, airway's been established. He's under forced ventilation. He's patched in, sending strip, this will be lead two, Rampart. He is still unconscious and has been the whole duration since the accident, approximately thirty minutes. He has a deep cut on his forehead and a large bump on the back of his head. Unable to check pupillary response as his eyes are filled with glass fragments. He has a deep cut to his left kneecap, bone is visible, Rampart. I've put a pressure bandage on the knee to control bleeding. Possible internal injuries, suspect rib fractures and possible neck and spine injuries. We have him on a backboard and c-collar is in place. He was not wearing a seatbelt at impact. I..." Roy was startlingly interrupted by the sudden beep of the heart monitor. Before he had a chance to say anything else, he heard Dr. Early's voice, raised in urgency, over the biophone. "51, he's in V-fib! Defibrillate, 400 watt seconds!" Instantly, Roy grabbed the paddles, charging the defibrillator to four hundred, and shocked his partner. This could not possibly be happening. Studying the monitor intensely, DeSoto could see that there was no change or conversion. Damn! "Johnny, don't you do this to me!" Roy cried out, visibly and understandably shaken. He pressed the button to recharge the paddles and glared at the machine. When it reached 400, seemingly an eternity later, Roy shocked the lifeless paramedic a second time. Chet, who had taken over pumping the oxygen into Johnny's lungs, stopped momentarily and cringed as Gage's body jolted a second time from the shock. He glanced over to look at Roy, whose face was frighteningly pale and who was sweating profusely, staring at the heart monitor. But the auburn-haired medic's face brightened slightly as he saw the heart rate was back in synus rhythm. "51, good job, you got him back. Start IV with ringers, wide open, wrap his eyes lightly with protective gauzing and bring him in here, stat! Keep me posted on his vitals every two minutes and advise if there are any changes in his level of consciousness," Joe Early replied, grimly. Gently, Roy, Chet and Marco helped the ambulance attendants lift their injured crewmate onto the stretcher and into the ambulance, which had arrived during the v-fib crisis. But the men had been too distracted and had not even heard or seen it pull up. As Roy was just about to jump inside with one of the attendants, Captain Stanley grabbed his arm. "Is he gonna be okay?" the worried captain asked, somewhat guiltily. The irritation he had felt earlier seemed so nonsensical and trivial to him now. I should have known John wouldn't be late, unless there was some reason. I should have realized that something was terribly wrong. God, I can't believe I was gonna make him do latrine duty for a month! Cap thought to himself, cringing. Roy looked uneasily at his superior. "He's bad, Cap, real bad. I've seen accident victims who were less injured, and they've been dead. I...I, um, I just don't know." That said, Roy felt a shiver run down his spine and hopped into the ambulance. Concerned and guilt-ridden thoughts crippling his mind, Captain Stanley watched as the emergency vehicle drove quickly away, staring at it until it was no longer visible. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* During the ride to Rampart, Roy became increasingly worried that Johnny had not yet regained consciousness. He knew that he must have suffered a very serious head injury. While the ambulance attendant continued to force oxygen into Johnny's lungs, DeSoto checked his friend's ears for fluid, feeling only somewhat relieved when he found there wasn't any. Roy also checked and re-checked Gage's vital signs, which, consistently, remained the same. He wished he could look at Johnny's pupils, but knew it was not possible and that with the glass fragments imbedded in his eyes he could do further damage to him. God, he's so still...so quiet! Roy thought sadly, watching the younger man intently for any signs of movement. But the dark-haired medic never flinched. Roy tried pain stimuli and was even more shaken when there was still no response from his partner. The ambulance had barely come to a stop when Roy opened the doors and jumped out, met at the emergency entrance by head nurse, Dixie McCall, Dr. Kel Brackett and Dr. Early. The attendants pushed the stretcher down the hall, while Roy walked nervously with them, carrying the IV bag. "Treatment two," Dixie replied softly and ushered them in. As soon as the ambulance attendants transferred Johnny onto the exam table, Dr. Brackett eased in for his examination. "Dixie, call Ophthalmology, we'll need them to come down and assess his eyes," Brackett ordered, leaving the bandage alone that Roy had placed on Gage's eyes. Dixie nodded, and went to the phone to make the call. Another nurse stepped in and took her place as the doctors began to bark out orders. "Dix, also, we need portable x-ray down here, stat. Full series, head, neck, chest and abdomen. Nurse, draw blood for type and cross. Roy, can you get his vitals, please," Dr. Early asked, while examining Johnny's ability to breathe and the cut on his forehead. Roy moved in and took the blood pressure as the nurse, already filling up three vials of Gage's blood, reached over and felt the pulse in the injured man's wrist. As Johnny was still on forced ventilation, Brackett took out his stethoscope to listen to his chest. The sudden frown appearing on the doctor's face did not get past Roy, and he felt sick all over again. "What? What's wrong, Doc?" DeSoto replied shakily, as Dixie walked back over to them. "Lungs sound rough. He may have a couple of broken ribs that have possibly punctured one of his lungs. Dix, who's the ophthalmologist on duty and when is he coming down?" "Dr. Winston, and he's on his way. And x-ray, too." "Good. Winston? Even better. He's the best we have. Kim," Dr. Early said, speaking to the other nurse, "let's take him off that airway and get him hooked to a vent. And cut away the bandages on his eyes. Dixie, he's gonna need stitches for that sliced kneecap. Arms and legs look good, no apparent fractures. That's a miracle in itself, considering he was pinned under the dashboard. This cut on his forehead will require some stitching, too," Dr. Early replied as both the x-ray technician and Dr. Winston entered the exam room. "I understand you have a patient for me?" the tall, forty-something doctor replied, smiling kindly. Kel went over to shake Dr. Winston's hand. "Yes, Frank, glass fragments in both eyes. Possible corneal ulcers and damage. Todd," Brackett replied, addressing the x-ray technician, "can you hold on just a moment, please?" Roy stood back, pale, and feeling terribly inadequate and in the way as Dr. Winston and Brackett gently examined Johnny's eyes. The auburn-haired medic felt his heart flip-flop when he heard the eye surgeon moan disapprovingly. Dixie glanced over at Roy and went to him, knowing he needed support. "Well, Kel, looks pretty bad. He's gonna need surgery to remove those glass pieces and repair his corneas." "How soon? He has a probable punctured lung that may require surgery first." "Soon, Kel, if there's going to be any hope we'll be able to repair the damage. Boy, he's really out, isn't he? Bad head injury, huh? What an unfortunate thing to have happen to such a nice-looking young man," Dr. Winston replied. He patted Johnny's unmoving right arm, and turned to face the E.R. staff. "How bad is the corneal damage? He's a firefighter/paramedic, Frank," Dr. Brackett informed the ophthalmologist, then instantly regretted it, realizing Roy was still in the room. "Like I said before, Kel, it looks bad. With any luck, he may get a portion of his sight back. A firefighter, huh? How terribly unfortunate, what a damn shame. I hate to say it, but when he does wake up, there's a very real possibility he will be permanently blind." From the corner of the room, a faint, shaky voice was heard coming from DeSoto. "Blind?" E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Outside Treatment Two, Roy's knees went weak and suddenly he crumbled down the wall that he had been leaning on for support, to the floor. Dixie had accompanied him out as the x-rays were being taken and she was trying her hardest to keep her own composure. The prognosis for Johnny was grave. No one was even certain yet whether or not he would survive. The pretty head nurse knelt down to Roy and wrapped her arms around him, trying to comfort him, but desperately needing comforting for herself as well. Johnny was, without a doubt, her favorite paramedic, next to Roy. "I can't believe this, Dix. I just can't believe this. He's got so many bad injuries. How's he ever gonna live through this? And if he does, he faces being permanently blind!" Roy cried out, in anguish. Dixie was about to comment when they heard a slight sound, and looking up saw Captain Stanley standing next to them. He reached down and helped Roy to his feet, his heart sinking at the sight of the shaken paramedic's facial expression. It was quite obvious Gage was not doing well. "Any word on John yet?" Hank asked, quietly, and Dixie and Roy informed him of the known details about their friend. Cap gave a low whistle as he heard the extent of his junior paramedic's injuries and looked straight into DeSoto's troubled blue eyes as they finished speaking. "Ah, Roy. I thought you might want to know...about the accident. I was, um, speaking to the police at the scene and they told me that the guys in the blue truck that hit Johnny...well, they were chasing them. It seems, the passenger of the truck had just robbed a convenience store, and shot the clerk who was inside. After taking all the money in the place, he ran outside, where the driver of the truck, which, by the way, was stolen, was waiting for him. A witness saw the guy run from the store with a gun in one hand and a bag in the other and called the cops. He saw the robber run across the street where the pickup truck pulled up, he got in and it screeched away. The cops caught up to them, a chase pursued, and that is when they just ran the stop light at the intersection and crashed into Gage." Both Dixie and Stanley watched as Roy's face went from shockingly pale to crimson, as he stared at his captain, feeling a deep anger building from inside him. "Do you mean to tell me that my best friend is in there, fighting for his life, because of two crooks who were driving like maniacs, trying to get away from the police? You mean, this was no every day, ordinary accident?" His voice rose several octaves higher as he asked the questions. Dixie put her hand on his arm in a comforting gesture, but he was so riled he didn't even notice. "I...I'm sorry, Roy. At least they were arrested and charged, not only with the robbery and attempted murder of the clerk, who, from the looks of things, is expected to survive the gunshot wound. But they were also charged with numerous other offenses related to causing the accident that injured Gage," Hank replied, softly, knowing that would not do anything to make DeSoto feel any better. Roy turned away and looked over towards the approaching Doctors Brackett, Winston and Early, as they walked up the corridor, and re-entered the treatment room, carrying Johnny's x-rays with them. Normally a peaceful, level-headed man, who had never shown a violent nature in his life, Roy surprised even himself when he suddenly formed a fist and, bringing his right arm back. Not thinking about anything except the fury that enveloped him, he turned and punched the wall with every last ounce of his remaining strength. Dixie saw his knuckles instantly start to bleed as she shockingly wondered if he had fractured his hand, and Captain Stanley reached out to grab DeSoto's arm, in an effort to prevent him from doing anymore damage to himself. Both the nurse and the fire captain noticed with chagrin the large dent the wall was now sporting, as Roy's chest heaved and he struggled to control his emotions and the sobs that threatened to pour out of him. Staring at Captain Stanley, Roy swallowed hard and blinked several times before speaking. "They had better pray that Johnny doesn't die because of what they did to him, because if he does, they'll be facing more than vehicular manslaughter charges, they'll be facing me! And if he does die, I'll hunt them down and kill them both with my own hands!"  DeSoto seethed to a stunned Dixie and Captain Stanley before he turned and made his way stealthily towards the doctors' in the treatment room, ignoring the pain and blood that seeped from his hand to the floor. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* While the doctors were tending to Johnny and examining his x-rays, Dixie wisely took Roy out to another treatment room and cleaned his bleeding knuckles. For a moment, the paramedic allowed her to do her job as he sat consumed by his own thoughts. Dixie was glad that the hand seemed fine and that she could not find any fractures, and she quickly brought the bleeding under control, but she was deeply worried about Roy. Never, in the many years she had known him, had she seen him this upset. Even when Johnny had contracted the mysterious virus several years ago and his death was imminent, Roy had been clearly upset, but had remained calm, as he had for all of Gage's countless other injuries in the past. But for some reason, this time it was different, and Roy was acting different. It was like the paramedic had changed in the blink of an eye and as Dixie poured antiseptic dressing over the cuts on his hand, she silently wondered if something inside him had snapped. The head nurse was staring at the man's unfamiliar blank expression, and she studied him, sadly, knowing what he was thinking about. Suddenly, without warning, she saw his blue eyes cross and another look of rage flashed across his face. Before she could stop him, he picked up a large glass vial on the counter that he was sitting next to, and much to Dixie's surprise heaved it violently across the room. It smashed the wall loudly and broke into a million pieces. "Roy, take it easy, take it easy! Enough!" she murmured, grabbing his shoulders and trying to remain as professionally calm as possible. But DeSoto could not take it easy. The normally rational and quiet medic could just not get the thoughts from out of his head that his best friend and partner was dying. Not knowing what else to do, he had channeled his emotions into a violent path and could not seem to stop himself. He pushed the nurse's arms away and stood up forcefully, knocking his chair over, and began to pace the room like a frantic, caged animal. "Take it easy? Take it easy?" he repeated, muttering under his breath, to no one in particular. "My best friend is gonna die, that's all. Take it easy...yeah, right..." "Roy, we don't know that! You have to settle down and be strong for Johnny. You..." Just then Joe Early poked his head inside the treatment room. His face was a picture of professional indifference, as though he were trying to save the life of any unknown patient. Roy's heart skipped a beat. "They're taking him to surgery right now," was all the doctor informed them of. Roy was out of the treatment room, running down the hall, before the door even had a chance to shut. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Hours later, a very depressed and subdued Roy had fallen asleep inside the doctors' lounge on the couch. Captain Stanley, knowing full-well DeSoto would never be able to continue working, had called in replacements for both his paramedics and kindly given Roy the rest of the shift off, on compassionate grounds. DeSoto, finally settled down, but far from back to normal, was grateful for his captain's consideration. He had given up waiting for answers to his many questions about Johnny's condition, but had refused to leave the hospital. No one had had the time to inform him anything about how Gage was holding up, so Roy decided to wait it out until his partner was at least out of surgery. Shivering suddenly, the auburn-haired paramedic jolted himself awake and sat up on the couch. Blinking, he glanced down at his watch, becoming angry all over again. He got up, and made his way to the nurse's station, determined now to get answers on Johnny. He felt, but ignored, the knot that was causing his stomach to ache as his thoughts focused on whether or not his partner of nearly seven years was dead or alive. Staunchly, he realized he was going to find out about Gage, or he was going to be arrested for busting up the place. Roy noticed with some satisfaction that Dr. Brackett was with Dixie at the nurse's station and he glared at them angrily as he made his way over. DeSoto wasn't taking any platitudes. "Doc, what is going on with Johnny? It's been hours, nobody has told me anything! You stick me in the lounge and leave me there and can't be bothered to tell me about my best friend! I demand to know how he's doing. Where is he? I want to see him! Is he okay? I want to see him!" Roy ordered, almost yelling. Brackett and Dixie exchanged a quick glance that put a sudden, great fear into Roy. His attitude took a nosedive and he felt his heart pounding excessively fast. "What? He isn't...he isn't...?" the paramedic stammered, scared to death. "No, look, he's alive, Roy. Come with me. I'll take you to see him," Dr. Brackett offered in a kind voice, his lip twitching at the paramedic's demanding outburst, and concern for his well being and state of mind entering the doctor's thoughts. As they walked to the elevator and got in, Roy hit Kel with a barrage of questions, trepidation and anxiety now taking over the anger that had echoed in his voice only moments before. Dr. Brackett pushed the button for the sixth floor - ICU. "Doc! Answers, please!" Roy begged, trying hard not to become furiously irrational all over again. He didn't want to get thrown out of the hospital and forced himself to remain calm. The realization occurred to him that his violent attitude from the morning wasn't helping Johnny or himself any and he now made a silent vow that he would do no more damage, or make any more demands. The paramedic knew deep down that Johnny was being given the very best of care and that these people loved his partner also. "Okay, Roy. I'll tell you, please just calm down a bit," Brackett replied, sensitively, looking up as the elevator pulled them towards the sixth floor. "Well, he's out of surgery. Had two broken ribs that punctured his right lung. Also, we found a few other things," Kel said as they exited the elevator and walked down the hall. They reached the ICU nursing station, where they both signed in and Roy, frustrated as he waited for the doctor to continue to inform him of his partner's condition, put on a sterile hospital cover, and finally they walked out to Johnny's room. Dr. Brackett opened the door and not realizing he was holding his breath, Roy walked in quietly, visibly paling as he took in the sight of his best friend, lying unnaturally still and hooked up to various machines, with tubes and IV's snaking in and out of him. Johnny's eyes and forehead were completely bandaged and there was an utterly eerie air of calmness surrounding the injured paramedic that made the hairs on Roy's neck stand straight up. DeSoto turned to face Dr. Brackett, looking for answers, silently demanding an explanation with his sullen eyes. Dr. Brackett grimaced and his lip twitched as he stared at Roy before speaking. "Roy...Johnny...well there's no easy way to say this, Roy. Johnny is in a coma..." E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Roy could only stare at the floor as he listened to Dr. Brackett's prognosis of his long-time partner, his eyes full of unshed tears. "Dr. Winston was able to surgically remove the many glass shards from his eyes and repaired as much of the damage to the corneas as he could. He was able to perform the surgery immediately after we repaired the damage to Johnny's lung. He has a chest tube in to drain out excess fluid, that I'm certain will heal up nicely in a few weeks. Dr. Winston mentioned to me that he didn't think the damage to Johnny's eyes were as bad as he originally thought, and he's pretty optimistic that Johnny should get his sight back fully in a few weeks. But the head injury he sustained has us the most worried. It's pretty severe, Roy," Dr. Brackett paused, in order to let this information be fully absorbed by the senior paramedic. DeSoto glanced up quickly and locked eyes with the doctor. "How bad?" he whispered, walking slowly over to his very still, sleeping partner. He picked up the limp hand and held it, shocked at how cold it felt. "The injury has caused his brain to swell slightly..." "Oh God, no!" DeSoto choked out, knowing full well that this was not a good thing. "Well, Roy, we're keeping him heavily medicated, hoping the swelling will diminish and the brain stem injury he sustained will heal. Right now, he's on partial life support. We have to keep him in this state, in order to give him the time his body needs to heal." "For how long? What about...what about brain damage?" Roy said, his voice barely audible. He still clutched his partner's cold hand, listening to the sounds of the ventilator as it pumped oxygen into Johnny's nearly lifeless body. "I'm sorry, but that is something we can't determine at this point. Roy, Johnny is strong and he's young, and we both know he's a fighter..." "When he wakes up...how much...how severe will the brain damage be?" DeSoto demanded again, struggling to keep his voice even and ignoring Brackett's feeble attempt to instill a shred of hope into the situation. He was rubbing Johnny's icy hand with both of his, in an instinctive attempt to warm it, not even realizing that the comatose man was unaware of his efforts. "Roy, you're putting me on the spot here. Things like that are practically impossible to predict..." "How bad?" DeSoto's voice rose forcefully. Dr. Brackett hesitated. He knew the close relationship the two paramedics shared and did not want to cause Roy any unnecessary worry. But he realized DeSoto would be relentless, his need to know everything overwhelmingly strong. "A lot of it depends on how long he is in the coma. The longer, the more serious the damage tends to be. But we have to think positively, Roy. He may wake up in a few days and be perfectly fine, or..." "Or, he could never wake up," a very discouraged Roy DeSoto finished the doctor's sentence. "Yes, that is true. But should he not wake up in an acceptable length of time, we'll test his brain for activity and more than likely be forced to take him off life support." "In which case, he dies..." "I'm sorry, Roy. I wish we knew what was going to happen, and had all the answers, but I'm afraid we just don't right now," Dr. Brackett replied, trying not to notice the tears which were now falling freely down the distraught firefighter's face. He patted Roy on the back and told him he could stay as long as he wished. Roy nodded gratefully and pulled a chair close to Johnny's bed, not once letting go of his hand, as though to let go of it would mean letting go of Gage's very life. "Talk to him, Roy. There's evidence to suggest that people in comas can hear what you say," Kel replied, and left the room then, sadness arising in his own heart and moistness dampening the corners of his eyes. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* When word of Johnny's accident and hospitalization became known, it was not long before Rampart was crammed full of his anxious friends, waiting to hear news of his condition and to see him. He was a well-known and much respected firefighter throughout L.A. County and even though Dr. Brackett had given orders for no visitors, with the exception of Roy DeSoto, there were usually at least half a dozen or so worried men sitting in the ICU waiting room. When told Gage could have no visitors at the moment, they left reluctantly, instead opting to send flowers, toys and balloons of well wishes to their fallen comrade. Roy was touched by all their care and concern and managed to keep everyone informed about Johnny, but the gifts kept arriving. It was not long before his room in the intensive care unit looked like an overstocked floral shop, dozens of lovely arrangements crowding around. The second day after the accident, Roy was off-duty. He'd gone home late the night before, against his better judgment, practically forced out of Johnny's room by a concerned Dixie McCall, in order to eat, shower and get some much needed sleep. He'd been with Johnny all that first day, eating nothing more than junk from the hospital vending machine down the hall. Joanne, Roy's wife, had driven to Rampart when Captain Stanley had called to tell her about Johnny's terrible accident, but she was not allowed in the ICU room to see him. After staying a couple of hours, trying to comfort her anguished husband the few times he had left his partner's room, she had been forced to leave to care for her children. Before realizing leaving the hospital was necessary, Roy had, at first, put up a fight, desperately wanting to be there in the unlikely event his comatose friend regained consciousness, but in the end, his responsibilities to his wife and children won out. Exhausted, DeSoto left Rampart, but only after Dixie promised to make sure one of the ICU nurses would immediately call him, day or night, should Johnny wake up. The next morning he returned to the hospital, feeling somewhat hopeful that Johnny's condition had miraculously improved overnight. He'd brought a few things with him that he thought his partner might like, such as a tape player and tapes of Johnny's favorite songs, a radio, various magazines and books, and candles to add fragrance to the antiseptic smell of the room. DeSoto walked towards the ICU nurses' station and was met by the head nurse, Christine, as he signed in and donned his sterile hospital cover up. The thirtysomething brunette had a small look of annoyance on her face as she pointed to three new floral arrangements. Roy looked at them and could not help but smile as he saw one with a huge, stuffed teddy bear, dressed in a firefighter's uniform, complete with helmet. "I don't know what to do with all of these!" Christine proclaimed. "He must have at least twenty already in his room and if we stick anymore in there, there's going to be no place for the doctors to examine him." Roy reached over and picked up the one with the teddy bear. He read the card and was immediately touched by the words. 'Johnny, please get well. We all miss you and need you to come back. The guys at Station 51.' Below this, Chet, Mike, Marco and Captain Stanley had each signed their names. "Look, I'll just take this one. The rest, maybe you can give to some patients who don't have any. Ah, how's he doing, anyway?" Roy asked. Christine hesitated before answering, feeling sad for the man standing in front of her. She'd never seen anybody with such a close, caring friend. Not to mention the countless scores of other visitors who had come to see him but had not been allowed to. Whoever this John Gage fellow is, he certainly must be someone special she speculated to herself. "I'm sorry, Roy, but there's been no change in Mr. Gage's condition." DeSoto's head dropped in despair, and he walked away to his partner's room, brightening up slightly as he saw him. Even though Johnny never moved or in any way acknowledged Roy's entrance into the room, the older medic knew he had to be strong and positive. He began to talk a blue streak to his friend, believing Johnny would be able to hear the worry and concern in his voice. The auburn-haired medic wandered over to the window and opened the blinds, then walked back towards Johnny, gently depositing the firefighter teddy bear arrangement on the stand next to Gage. DeSoto popped a tape in the tape player and turned the music on, sitting in the blue chair next to the bed . "Cap and all the guys pitched in and bought you this great arrangement, Junior. You should see the teddy bear, it's really cute. All dressed up like a firefighter. They wrote a nice get well message, too. We all miss you, Johnny. I'm sure the Phantom doesn't know what to do with himself. And me, well, you know you have me..." Roy hesitated as emotion once again took over, coughing so that Gage would not be able to hear him weep. After a few moments, he forced himself to be strong, wiped the tears away and began to talk again. He spoke to his comatose partner as though he were awake and listening intently. He told him what day it was, what time it was, what the nurse looked like who came in to check Johnny's vitals and breathing ability and that Roy's daughter and son, Jennifer and Chris, had drawn pictures for him. Roy did not stop talking until Dr. Brackett and Dr. Winston walked into the ICU room together. "Hi Roy. You remember Dr. Winston, right?" Kel asked as they walked to Johnny's bedside. Dr. Winston began to unravel the bandages covering the dark-haired paramedic's eyes as Roy watched intently, nodding and saying hello. "How, how are his eyes?" DeSoto asked, somewhat impatiently as the ophthalmologist gently opened Johnny's closed lids and examined the dark eyes Roy knew so well. "Hmmm...," Dr. Winston replied in a not-so-optimistic sounding voice. He said no more as he continued staring closely into the paramedic's eyes with a small, scope-like tool. "Kel, have your nurse re-bandage them up with clean, sterile dressing," the eye surgeon advised, taking a pad out of his pocket and writing something down on it. He then handed the paper to Dr. Brackett. "And make sure she administers these antibiotic steroid drops." Brackett glanced at the paper and grimaced. "Infection?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "Yeah, looks bad, too, Kel. Not what this young man needs right now." Roy began to feel a mixture of emotions, ranging from anger to deep concern. They were talking like he wasn't even in the room. Dr. Winston left before Roy had a chance to say anything and when he finally spoke, his voice was shaky and thick with worry. "Doc, now what? He...his eyes are infected?" Kel nodded and looked up as a nurse entered the room. "Sally, get some gauze, clean his eyes out with sterile solution and put these drops in them. Then, re-bandage him up again." "Right away, doctor," the nurse replied, and taking the prescription, left the room temporarily. "Roy, yes, an infection has set in. But, it's quite common in the eyes after having surgery of this kind. Don't get too concerned about it, we'll keep checking them and the steroid drops should do the trick," Kel replied, giving Roy a small smile of encouragement. He walked around the bed to examine Johnny's various injuries. Brackett started with the left kneecap that had required seventeen stitches to close up. Happy with what he saw there, the doctor covered Johnny's leg back up with the blankets and moved to check the chest tube. There was fluid in it and he changed it, noting the amount on Gage's chart, and then listened to Johnny's lungs. Apparently pleased with this too, Dr. Brackett looked up at Roy, smiling. "His lungs sound good, Roy. Even though he's on the ventilator, he's inhaling and exhaling. I don't hear any rales and there wasn't much fluid in the chest tube. That's a very good sign." "Can we take him off the ventilator?" Roy asked, hopefully. Kel shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Roy. His lungs may be able to receive and expel air, but in his comatose state, his ability to breathe normally, by himself, is impaired. Coma interferes with the functioning of the cerebral cortex. He'll require the artificial airway for quite some time. Only when he comes out of the coma and we can assess any damage in his ability to function, will we be able to even think about taking him off the ventilator." DeSoto breathed in, then found himself inadvertently holding it in, as the doctor then checked Johnny's head injury and the laceration on his forehead. All during this exam, Johnny still never moved, never flinched. The only noticeable body movement was his chest as it rose up and down with the life saving ventilator as it forced oxygen into him. Roy wished that he would wake up. He desperately wanted to see his partner well, and was becoming horrified thinking about impending brain damage and the degree of impairment that would almost certainly plague Johnny. DeSoto couldn't imagine the over-active Gage not being able to function as he had before the accident. He tried to extinguish those thoughts from his mind, instead focusing on the positive. You are going to be just fine, Junior. All Kel said when he finished checking Johnny over was, "It's just still too soon, Roy." Then he left, promising to return back later. Roy took his customary spot in the blue chair next to Gage's bed and picked up the unconscious man's hand. It was still so cold. For a moment, the auburn-haired paramedic stared at his partner, whom Roy had not seen for over two days without bandages covering his eyes and forehead. Johnny looked so abhorrently peaceful, as though he were in nothing more than a very restful, deep slumber. Roy felt a shiver crawl down his spine and realized just then what was wrong with this picture. Johnny never slept this way. DeSoto stood up, and taking his partner's left arm, placed it over his forehead, just like the usual way he would see him sleeping in the bunk beside his at the fire station. Despite himself, Roy smiled as he observed Johnny sleeping this way. Even though he had the ventilator covering his mouth, at least now this looked right. As right as it was going to get for the time being. Glancing down at Johnny's arms, DeSoto could see the goosebumps, which covered the younger man. Concerned, he immediately went over to the supply closet and retrieved another blanket. "Jeez, Junior, you're freezing." DeSoto gently covered his friend with the blanket and tucked Gage's right arm underneath, looking up somewhat startled as the nurse entered the room, carrying the supplies for the dark-haired medic's eyes. Roy moved out of her way and watched, rather supervised her as she carefully opened John's eyelids and instilled the drops, then re-applied fresh gauze and dressing. Throughout the whole procedure she did not say a word about his arm being over his forehead, but she moved it back to his side as she applied the bandage. Then she took Johnny's vital signs and noted them on his chart, saw that his IV, chest tube, feeding tube and catheter were all fine, and smiling at Roy, she left the room. As soon as the door closed behind the nurse, Roy once again lovingly placed Johnny's left arm in its normal sleeping position over his forehead. Then he sat down in the blue vinyl chair beside him, talking away to the man he thought of as his brother, fully believing Johnny could hear and understand every single word he said. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* The days were turning into weeks and Roy had been forced to return to work. He hated not being able to spend all his time with his injured partner and even more he hated being partnered with Paramedic Craig Brice. The be-spectacled man drove him absolutely crazy and for Roy it was bad enough not having Johnny to work with, but being forced to work again with Brice was cruel and severe punishment. But the guys at the station, sympathetic to his predicament helped Roy out as much as possible, knowing it could be months before Johnny would be back at work, if he ever did return. With each passing day, most of the crew of Station 51 had started to give up hope that their young friend would ever come out of his coma and be able to join them at work. But Roy never gave up hope. He still managed to visit Johnny every time he was at Rampart, even if it were only for a few minutes. On one such occasion DeSoto was elated to see the bandages from around his stricken partner's eyes and forehead had been removed, making it look more and more like Johnny was merely sleeping. If we could only get rid of the ventilator, Roy had wished dozens of times. Dr. Brackett had also removed the 'no visitors' order after Johnny's second week of hospitalization and there was almost always someone in the ICU room to keep him company and talk to him, even if Gage wasn't capable of responding. Off-duty firefighters, friends and hospital staff took turns staying with him while Roy was unavailable, knowing Johnny's only living relative was an elderly aunt, confined to remain at a nursing home. If nothing more, their care and devotion to Gage was enough to keep Roy from giving up on Johnny himself. Whenever the auburn-haired man would start to depressingly feel that his partner's situation was hopeless, he would only have to step quietly inside John's room and see another person talking or reading to him, or moving his limbs up and down for exercise. The faith he harbored for Johnny's recovery would come quickly back. Most of the time, as soon as Roy would enter the room, whoever was there would politely leave, allowing DeSoto the privacy he needed to have with his best friend. Three weeks after Johnny's accident, Roy was off-duty and drove to the hospital, as had been his routine for seemingly so long, to spend time with his partner. But that day, as DeSoto walked into the ICU room, he was somewhat surprised to see both Dr.'s Early and Brackett in there, giving Gage a thorough examination. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the somewhat grave expressions on both doctors' faces. "Doc, what...what is it?" Roy stammered, his face ashen as he stared at Kel, barely able to get the words out. "Roy, we've been discussing it...and we are taking Johnny off life support now. It's been three weeks. He is completely healed of his injuries, with the exception of the brain stem injury which is effecting the coma. We are hopeful now his body will be able to function without the aid of the machines," Dr. Early replied, rather sadly. DeSoto tried to breathe and inadvertently bent over, fighting the urge to throw up. "No! Look, what if...what if he can't...?" Roy dared not finish his sentence. He stared at Johnny, lying so still and helpless, completely unaware of what was going on around him. This could be the beginning of the end for his partner, his friend, and his brother. "Roy, you knew we couldn't keep him hooked up to these machines forever. Do you think Johnny would want to live like this? What kind of a life is this for him?" Joe asked gently, grasping Roy's shoulders and looking deeply into the paramedic's panicked blue eyes. DeSoto felt the now, all-too-familiar lump growing instantly in his throat as he fought back the tears and shook his head, trying to gather his composure enough to enable him to speak. Finally, clearing his throat and glancing back and forth from doctor to doctor, he replied, "Look, I need...I need to call the guys. They should be here. Please, please give me an hour. Just an hour. He, ah, Johnny, has no family...we all need to be here. Please...," Roy begged, struggling with the sniffling that accompanied the burning sensation in his throat. Dr. Brackett smiled at him. "Sure, Roy. But just a few people, okay?" Leaving the room in a nearly frantic state, Roy walked blindly through the hall to the lounge, his eyes filled with tears. After taking a moment to breathe deeply and count to ten, he placed a call to his wife, Joanne and then to Chet Kelly, who promised, with a heavy heart, to get a hold of the rest of the crew. Roy then returned to Johnny's room, mixed feelings of grief and annoyance as he saw Dr. Early and Dr. Brackett still in there, discussing their patient. "Look, can I have a few minutes alone with him?" DeSoto asked, wanting them to leave before he had a complete emotional breakdown. "Sure, Roy. Take all the time you need," the always benevolent Joe Early said. Turning, concerned for the senior paramedic's mental state, both he and Kel left the hospital room. DeSoto looked, for about the millionth time in the past three weeks, at his partner of seven years and allowed the tears to fall freely. He sniffled and wept silently for several moments. He grasped Johnny's hand, then in a completely uncharacteristic move, leaned over and gently kissed the top of the unconscious man's forehead. Still clutching Gage's hand in his own, Roy then embraced the younger man, wrapping his left arm around him as tightly as he dared and burying his tear-stained face in Johnny's shoulder. For a moment, Roy reflected back on good memories of Johnny and realized just how much he meant to him, and how much he would miss him. For an unsuspecting Gage, death lurked around the corner, only minutes away. Roy had seen the looks on both Dr. Early's and Dr. Brackett's faces and he held no hope that his friend would be strong enough to breathe on his own, believing that his beloved partner would die today. Greedily, DeSoto held tight to Johnny's limp hand, staring for a moment at the upward movement of his chest as oxygen was forced into his lungs, suddenly angry that the doctors had decided that today would be Gage's last day. Blinking, he stared at the dark-haired man's closed eyes and softened slightly as he once again recalled fun times with Johnny. Roy knew he would cherish those memories forever and the most difficult, agonizing thing in the world to do would be to tell his young children, Chris and Jennifer, that their "Uncle" Johnny was dead. It had been stressful enough over the past three weeks for them not to see him and Roy and Joanne had told them little about how critical Gage really was. He knew his children's' hearts would be broken, as would his own. And he had no doubt in his mind that Joanne, too, would be grief-stricken with Johnny's loss. She had grown to love him as a brother very quickly. "Ah, look, Johnny, they're taking you off life support now. I am going to pray that you are strong enough and healed enough to survive and function without these machines. I'm not ready to let you go yet, but if it is your time then I am both proud and honored to have known you, worked with you and had you as my best friend. "You are the little brother I never had. If anything happens to you, I will be forever saddened, Junior. I know you wouldn't want to live this way forever, hooked up to machines, and I have to respect you and let you go with the dignity you deserve. But I will always remember you. My family will always remember you. You know how they adopted you all those years ago. You've always been part of my family. I will not forget the time we spent together. I know I've never said it before, but I love you, Johnny. We all love you. Even the guys at the station. Even Chet." Choked up with emotion, unable to say anything more, Roy wiped the tears away and stared at his partner, praying silently for him. Although he was a self-proclaimed "not very religious" man, DeSoto felt like he needed all the help that he could get with this. Roy sat beside Johnny, stroking his hand and shoulder and staring deeply at him, never wanting to forget him. He pulled his wallet out from his jeans back pocket and took out his favorite picture of Johnny and himself. It was of the two of them beside the old fire engine that they had lovingly worked hundreds of hours on and restored. The photo showed them dressed in the old-time firefighters costumes, smiling proudly next to the engine. As DeSoto replaced the treasured picture and wallet, he was somewhat startled by the opening of the ICU room door. In walked Joanne and Chet. They had arrived at the hospital the same time and had walked somberly up to John's room together. The auburn-haired medic could see his wife was crying softly and Chet's eyes were noticeably red. Both walked over and stood next to the bedside after embracing Roy. He felt the tears well up again as Captain Stanley and Mike entered the room, followed shortly after by Marco. They all talked softly for a few minutes, remembering some of their favorite times with Johnny, recalling the great person he was. All agreed that Johnny was amongst the bravest, most selfless persons they had met, always the first to volunteer to do the dirtiest and most dangerous rescues, always willing to trade his life in order to help save someone else's. So many times, they recalled, Johnny had laid his life on the line, in order to spare one of his crewmembers. Oftentimes he had insisted on performing highly dangerous saves by himself, with little help from Roy or anyone else. If he could have spoken at that point, Johnny would have told them he preferred to do the worst rescues himself, in his effort to spare Roy from injury or possible death. DeSoto's family was precious to him and he would much rather have suffered pain or death himself than to let Joanne, Chris and Jennifer lose Roy. But, of course, Gage could not comment, nor did he move or flinch at these deep, heartfelt and highly sentimental words coming from his extended "family" members. Had he been able to acknowledge them, Johnny would have smiled shyly and more than likely walked away. He was not an attention seeker and would have found their praise of him anything but personally gratifying. When Joe Early and Kel Brackett walked dismally into the room, the five crewmembers of Station 51, and Joanne DeSoto, crowded even closer around Johnny's bedside, fighting back tears. Dr. Early's expression was dark, downcast as he spoke first. "It's obvious that the young man lying before us is very fiercely loved by a great number of people. I wish that we did not have to do this. But I am certain, without a doubt that it is what he would want. I am praying that Johnny's body is strong enough to function on its own, but he's been in a deep coma for over three weeks now and there is no certainty that he will survive being taken off these machines." "Johnny's prognosis is going to be a mystery," Dr. Brackett continued, looking about as serious and melancholy as Roy could ever remember seeing him. "I want you all to know that he is in absolutely no pain and he will not suffer. Because coma interferes with the functioning of the cerebral cortex, his ability to breathe for himself may still be impaired. I also want you to know that if he should start to breathe on his own, it in no way means he will come out of this ordeal perfectly unscathed. He is, after all, still in a coma, with an undetermined amount of brain damage. He still may not wake up for months, years, or he may wake up tomorrow. Although our instruments show he does have a healthy brain activity level, there are absolutely no guarantees and the amount of any impairment is unknown." The doctors, kindly, allowed the information they had just explained to settle before they locked eyes. "Ready, Kel?" Dr. Early asked, quietly. Brackett nodded, then he and Joe proceeded to turn off the machines, disconnecting them from Johnny's limp body. They pulled out the ventilator and as the pumping sound ceased were met with an eerie, complete silence from the six people around them who each held their breath and silently prayed. A moment later, both doctors leaned over Johnny, listening to his chest and checking for any spontaneous breath sounds. After what seemed like an eternity in hell to Roy, Joe and Kel stepped back from an unmoving Gage and glanced at each other. Cap broke the silence first. "Well...um...is he...?" Roy squeezed his eyes shut, clutching Joanne's hand in his own, not wanting to believe his "brother" was now dead. Officially. After a slight hesitation, disbelief clouding his thoughts, Brackett answered them. "His heart is beating and he's breathing on his own," the doctor informed them, and smiled as six people cried and laughed and cheered riotously, forgetting the speech previously given about the grimness and uncertainty of Gage's future. In their hearts and minds, they all knew their Johnny was back. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Five days later, again on his day off work, Roy walked through his partner's hospital room door. As he had been for nearly a month, Johnny was still, seemingly, sleeping peacefully and he was alone. DeSoto hated it when Johnny was alone, never wanting him to be lonely, knowing he needed to hear voices and realize he was cared for. Roy felt quiet frustration and discouragement, pulling the blue vinyl chair close to the bed as he had done, for what seemed to him to be, the millionth time. As was his usual manner, DeSoto picked up the cold, limp hand and watched as Johnny breathed. Then, the older man began to talk. And talk. And talk. "Junior, Chris and Jennifer made you another card. It says, 'To Uncle Johnny. We wish we could come and see you, but they won't let us. At least not until you wake up. We really, really miss you. Please get better soon. Please wake up soon, Uncle Johnny. We love you, Chris and Jennifer.' They each signed their names and drew pictures... "All the guys have been asking about you too, Junior. I think today is about the third time in a row that nobody has actually been here. But you know, you always have Smokey, here," Roy replied, referring to the firefighter appareled stuffed bear Station 51 had given Johnny. DeSoto picked it up, holding it for a moment, then placed the bear gently on the bed next to the comatose Gage. Staring at his partner, who slept as though not a care in the world, Roy suddenly was at a loss for words. He kept thinking that maybe the other guys had come to realize something he, himself, refused to think about. That maybe they had given up hope. Maybe they thought Johnny would never wake up. Maybe going in to the hospital to talk to a sleeping corpse with an undetermined amount of brain damage had become tiresome and depressing and that they had ultimately decided to get on with their lives. What if all of this is just a big waste of time? Roy thought miserably, cradling Johnny's still hand. No! DeSoto felt the guilt consume him, guilt that he could ever find spending time with his best friend a waste, no matter what condition he was in. He knew though, that he would have to start spending less time at the hospital and more time at home with his family, knowing he had greatly neglected Joanne and the kids over the weeks. He looked away from Johnny, yet a new guilt entering his troubled mind. God, he was married to such a wonderful, benevolent, unselfish woman, a woman who truly understood the bond that he and Johnny shared. She has to be getting fed up by now, Roy thought, becoming miserable for a new reason now. He was never home anymore. But still... Glancing away towards the open window, DeSoto began to talk to his friend again, sadness and guilt clutching at his heart. "Ya know, Johnny. I am married to the best, most understanding, loving woman on the planet. But I don't know how much longer she is going to let me keep coming here without putting up a fight. And honestly, I just don't know myself, Junior, how much more I can take, either. I mean, I sit here, day in and day out, it's been a month now. I don't know how much more, how much longer I can do this. "If only you'd wake up. I keep praying you'll wake up and be fine, but it's just been so long...Junior, I just don't know what more I can do..." "Well, for starters, Pally, you can start by letting go of my hand," a weak, scratchy voice replied, coming from within the bed. Deeply startled, Roy jumped out of his chair, literally flinging Johnny's hand from out of his. A stunned, shocked expression emanated on his ashen face. For several seconds the older medic glared at his friend, unable to form a thought or express a word, then his lips parted and he broke into a wide grin. DeSoto's first true smile in weeks. He was speechless, momentarily, as he continued to gaze at his partner, who's eyes were open and who seemed to be looking at Roy as though he'd sprouted horns. Finally, Roy found his voice, jumping around excitedly, acting like a man crazed. "Johnny!? You're awake! You...you're awake! How do you feel?" "Well, I guess I'm a little tired. And thirsty. What am I doing in the hospital?" Roy could only laugh as tears of relief fell down his cheeks. He knew he should summon the doctor, but wanted to spend a moment alone with his finally alert partner, who seemed utterly oblivious to all that he had been through. In fact, he appeared to be much more concerned about DeSoto's strange behavior, as he watched him laugh, cry and prance around. Johnny made a face when Roy reached over inadvertently and hugged him. "Roy, I'm startin' to think that maybe you should be in this bed, not me. Man, what the heck's happened? Are you okay, man?" "Am I okay? Am I okay?" Roy couldn't believe what he was hearing. But, it was just like Johnny to be more worried about him, than himself. "I'm fine, now. Now that you're awake, everything is fine. Everything is perfect." Johnny looked around quickly, trying to understand why he was there and what had happened to him. He saw the IV in his left arm and looked at Roy, puzzled. "Why am I here? What happened? Did I get hurt at work?" he asked, frowning. He couldn't remember a thing. "Not exactly," Roy muttered. He took one long look at his best friend, then turned to leave. "Look, sit tight, I'll tell you everything in a minute. But right now, I'm going to get the doctor. Be right back!" DeSoto promised, smiling widely. True to his word, the auburn-haired man returned a few minutes later, with Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early in tow. He was chatting excitedly to them as they entered the ICU room and stared at the now wide-awake Johnny, suspicion clouding their eyes. They, too, were as surprised as Roy to see Johnny had finally woken up from his long, deep slumber. "See? See! I told you he was awake. And he's okay! He's really okay!" Roy went on, happily. Both doctors doubted very much that Johnny was okay. He almost certainly had to have suffered some degree of brain damage, some kind of impairment. Immediately, the doctors began to examine the young man in the bed, asking him a barrage of questions. They checked his eyesight, which was, miraculously, 20/20. The doctors could not believe it. About the only indication Johnny had been critically injured in a terrible accident was the fact that he could not remember anything about it. And his motor skills were off-balance, but Early and Brackett knew that was mainly because his limbs had not moved fully in a month. As they continued to check him over, Roy noticed Johnny tiring. He wanted the doctors to hurry up and leave so he could have his partner to himself. Finally finished, over an hour later, Dr. Brackett looked over at Roy, shaking his head. "It's nothing short of a miracle, Roy. Very, very rarely has someone who's been in a coma for an extended amount of time, such as the month he was in it, ever just wakes up to be perfectly, physically and mentally fine. But, from all reports, our young friend here appears to have done it." "Coma? Coma? I was in a coma...for a month?" Johnny asked, glancing incredulously at both doctors and Roy. DeSoto nodded, as Kel and Joe turned to leave. "He's going to have a lot of questions, Roy," Dr. Early said, smiling in disbelief. "We'll leave you to answer them for now. We have sick people to see. We'll be back a little later." The door had barely closed behind them when Gage stared up at his friend, frowning. "Roy, tell me exactly what happened," he asked, trying hard to recall, not believing he had lost an entire month of his life. Smiling, DeSoto sat down next to Johnny's bed in the blue chair he'd occupied so constantly for so long. Then, he began to tell Gage all of what happened to him in the horrific accident. "...you had to have surgery on your eyes to repair the damage all the glass did to them. There were a couple of weeks there that we all thought you'd probably be completely blind." "Blind?! God, I don't feel a thing! My eyes seem just fine. Maybe it's a good thing I was in that coma. I'd have gone crazy!" Johnny replied, blinking hard in an effort to "test" his eyes. But they didn't feel any differently to him. "Yeah, you had the best ophthalmologist. You had bandages covering your eyes for over two weeks. And an infection set in. It was pretty bad. But I still can't believe you're okay. They kept warning us you had to have suffered some type of brain damage. Like they were trying to prepare us for the worst and even when they took you off life support, they told us you just wouldn't be the same, if you even survived. We, ah, we were all here when they turned off those machines. Me, all the guys from the station, and Joanne. It was pretty scary. We all thought...well, you know...but I'm so glad everything worked out and you're gonna be fine," Roy added, breathing in deeply. Johnny was just staring straight ahead, trying to absorb everything. He felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He had come so close to death. But it was over, he was fine now and everything was going to be okay. He looked at Roy, his brown eyes suddenly soft with emotion. "You...you were here for me the whole time, weren't you?" Gage quietly asked his long-time partner and friend. The fact he was all alone in the world, without any family of his own, reached out to clutch his heartstrings, and he realized the great sacrifices DeSoto had made for him. Roy nodded, sensing the younger man's feelings. "You never gave up on me. Never gave up hope I'd survive." "No, Johnny. I came here every single day. I talked to you. I exercised your arms and legs. Had whole one-sided conversations, told you a lot of stuff...," Roy started, staring down at the floor. "Like, how you considered me the brother you never had and...that you loved me?" Johnny interrupted, clearly out of the blue, his voice a husky whisper. Roy glanced up quickly at his friend and was momentarily stunned. How could this be? How could he know that? "You remember me saying that, Johnny?" DeSoto stammered, somewhat embarrassed and then saw that Gage's eyes were moist with unshed tears. "No. Well, sort of. I remember having this dream...I remember having a lot of dreams...but you were sitting here next to me, and you just...just said it." "Johnny, it wasn't a dream...I really did say that to you, when I thought you were going to die." For a moment neither man said anything as they both grappled with emotions that neither one were used to feeling. Even though they both had realized long ago the deep admiration and friendship they shared, the close, brotherly tie had been obvious and they had never actually revealed those feelings. Never once had they told each other how much they actually cared, they were men and it would have been weird. But now, after having come so close to losing Johnny, it was such an emotional moment that the relief he was going to be okay was overwhelming to Roy, as was the fact DeSoto had never given up on him overwhelming to Johnny. Finally, Gage nodded, sniffing and wiping away the tears that threatened to fall. He locked eyes with Roy, then looked away, shifting uncomfortably, but knowing what he was thinking had to be said. "I, um...you know, I feel that way about you, too, Roy. You're more than just a friend. You're my best friend, the brother I never had," Johnny muttered, softly. Roy smiled, guiltily enjoying the younger man's discomfort. Johnny seldom, if ever, was emotional. He always kept his true feelings inside, and Roy had known full well his partner's devotion and affection for him, but it was always nice to hear it being said. "Sure, I know. But everything is going to be all right now. And you have to promise me two things. One, never let what was just said ever escape from this room, and two, don't you ever scare me to death like that again!" Johnny grinned for a moment, then became serious all over again. Roy frowned, wondering what was wrong. "Okay, Roy, but on one condition." "What's that?" DeSoto asked, surreptitiously. "You promise me you'll never, ever hold my hand again!" Both men were laughing, but it was obvious Johnny was beyond exhausted. They talked for a few minutes more, then Roy got up as the dark-haired paramedic's eyes shut involuntarily. He tried to force them open, wanting to spend more time talking to DeSoto, but they were too weary and would not respond. Roy covered Johnny up and gently fluffed the pillow as he had now for a month. Exiting the room, DeSoto stopped first to take one longer glance at his partner, before finally leaving to go home. A small smile curled up at the corners of his lips as he walked down the corridor. It truly was a miracle. They had come so close to losing Johnny forever, and for the first time in his life, Roy believed in the power of prayer. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* The day after Johnny amazingly woke up from his coma, Roy and Chet Kelly drove to Rampart to see him. As they passed Dixie sitting at the counter at the nurses' station at emergency, they smiled and waved to her making their way towards the elevator. But they turned and walked back to her when she called them over. "What's up, Dixie?" Roy asked, somewhat worried. "Is Johnny okay?" Chet glanced from Dixie to Roy, wondering what was going on. His concern vanished as he saw the bright smile develop on the pretty nurse's face. "No, he's fine, just fine. In fact, he's so fine, I just wanted to let you know he got moved from ICU late last night. He's now in his own room, bothering my nurses, as usual." "He is?" Roy grinned. "That's great!" Dixie frowned at him for a moment. Roy blushed slightly, and looked away. "I mean, it's great that he's out of ICU," he clarified. "Yeah, it's terrific, when will he be getting out of here?" Chet asked. "Well, the doctors are amazed at his recovery. They're going to probably keep him here a few more days, to let him get his strength back. He'll have to go for some muscle-strengthening exercises and a bit of physical therapy, but it looks like he's doing just fine. Dr. Brackett is up with him right now," Dixie informed them. "Great, what's his room number?" Roy questioned as he and Chet turned to walk to the elevator. "Two-o-five." Roy and Chet couldn't get up to Johnny's new room quickly enough. When they finally reached it, they knocked at the door, entering when they heard Dr. Brackett tell them to come in. All four men sported huge smiles. "How is he, Doc?" Roy asked, walking with Chet towards the bed where Johnny lay. "He's doing extremely well. A medical miracle, gentlemen. He'll be able to go home in a few days," Dr. Brackett replied. "Hey, did you hear that, Chet? I'm a medical miracle," Johnny repeated, grinning. "Yeah, after all the injuries and illnesses you've gotten since you joined the Fire Department, it's a miracle all the money that's been spent on you. You've managed to pay for the entire west wing of Rampart," Chet joked. "You have more lives than a cat." "Oh, c'mon, Chester, you missed me while I was gone this time, didn't you?" Johnny said, reaching over to ruffle the firefighter's wavy head of dark hair. He ducked out of the way. "No, I didn't miss you. But the Phantom sure did," Kelly replied. "There wasn't another pigeon at the station to pick on and he got kinda bored." "Yeah. Hey, Doc here says I should be able to go back to work the week after next. I just need to do some weight training exercises and get my muscles back into shape," Johnny stated. "Yeah, you'll need to be in tip-top shape for the Phantom, when you get back to the station," Chet remarked, smiling evilly. "Chet, now, c'mon, can't a guy get a break? Here I was, practically dead for an entire month..." "I'll make sure he goes easy on you for your first few shifts," Roy promised. "Wow, it's so good to have you back, Junior. It was creepy, you know..." "Yeah. Hey, I really appreciate everything everyone did for me. Dr. Brackett told me you all took turns taking care of my ranch since I've been in here. And you even settled up with the insurance companies, both for my medical and my car. I don't know how I can ever thank you," Johnny said, his voice growing quiet and serious, his eyes deep and moist. "Hey, just seeing you awake and healthy is thanks enough," Roy replied. Chet nodded. "Yeah, John, just get better and get back to work. Like I said before, the Phantom really missed you." "Well, gentlemen, maybe you'd like to accompany our young patient here to his first physical therapy session. I have to get going now, but I'll be back to check on how you did," Dr. Brackett replied, smiling. He turned and left the room, leaving the three friends to help a still-weak Johnny into a wheelchair. Once he was in, they walked with him chatting amicably away, glad that Gage was well on his way to recovery. They reached the physical therapy room and entered. As they waited for the therapist, the three men continued to talk. In a matter of two weeks, Johnny would be back to work. In Chet and Roy's minds, it was amazing that he had survived his ordeal with absolutely no impairment whatsoever. When the therapist arrived, Roy and Chet left Johnny with him, and walked back to his room to wait. They knew the first session would be for only a half hour and was mostly an assessment to see how much work Johnny would require to get him back into shape after having lain in a bed for an entire month. Roy sat down on the bed while Chet plunked himself into a brown vinyl chair, a chair, with the exception of being a different color, was exactly like the one Roy had sat in for hours practically every day while Johnny remained in the coma. He looked at it, pensively. "You know, Johnny is one lucky guy. He should have been killed instantly in that accident, but he wasn't. He should have suffered some degree of brain damage, but he didn't. And he should have died once they took him off life support, but he lived. I think that's truly a bunch of miracles, don't you, Chet?" Kelly nodded, then smiled. "Yeah, but the really extraordinary miracle will be to see if he's not late again for his first shift back to work." "Chet, don't even go there!" Roy warned, then broke into a grin and some much needed laughter. They were both laughing when Johnny was brought up from physical therapy. He didn't know why they were laughing, but his lips parted into a wide grin as he joined them. Finally, it seemed, they all had a reason to laugh. The End feeback for Mary return to main menu