It was after ten o'clock as the men of Station 51 sat around in the kitchen, waiting for Charlie, the mechanic, to come in from the bay and tell them what had went wrong with the squad. They all cringed, knowing that Charlie was not going to be happy. And they were right, as the mechanic joined them, finally, sitting down to have a cup of coffee. As usual, he took one sip, made a face, and pushed it away. "When was the last time you checked the brakes in that squad?" he asked with his normal sarcasm. Roy and Johnny looked at each other and shrugged. "Uh huh, I thought so. These may be finely tuned machines, but they can't go on forever without proper maintenance, you know," Charlie chastised them. "I see she's long overdue for a tune-up and a routine check and the tire on the right side is practically bald..." "Charlie, what happened to the brakes?" Johnny interrupted. "Completely out of brake fluid, I filled it up and checked 'em out, and they're running as good as new, now. I want you to bring her in as soon as possible for a complete mechanical check." "So, you mean that this was just something that happened?" Roy asked, fishing for more answers. "As opposed to what, DeSoto?" the mechanic questioned back. "Well, I don't know, like, maybe, well...I was thinking that maybe someone might have cut the brake lining..." the auburn haired paramedic replied, feeling stupid as Charlie burst out laughing at him. "That's a good one, DeSoto! You know, I've heard a lot of excuses for bad maintenance practices in this department, but that's the best one I've heard yet!" the mechanic continued laughing, then stood up, slapping Roy on the back. "'Somebody cut the brake lining'...DeSoto, you gotta stop watching 'Starsky and Hutch'! Well, guys, glad I could be of service, now you make sure you bring that squad in for a tune up next week, for sure, huh?" Still laughing, Charlie left the station. It was still quiet an hour later, when Cap ordered lights out, and exhausted, the men gladly turned in. E!*E!*E!*E!*E! The blue car was on fire as Johnny struggled desperately to get the lone victim out. He started coughing from the smoke and looked up, expecting to see his crewmates there with hoses, extinguishing the flames. But there was no one there, except for an old man, who kept yelling at him. "Get her out, get her out! I don't want to lose my baby!" he cried to Johnny. Looking at the girl inside, Johnny gasped when he saw her covered in blood. Her eyes were open and she stared up at him, begging him to help her. But he couldn't, he just couldn't get her out and a moment later the vehicle exploded. Johnny flew through the air, landing on his side on the ground, feeling great pain. He looked around, seeing the girl lying next to him. She was speaking softly to the paramedic, telling him it wasn't his fault and not to let it bother him anymore. "I know you did everything you could, it was my time," she said in an angelic voice. Suddenly the old man was beside him, grabbing him by the throat, strangling him. Johnny gasped for breath and tried to break free, but couldn't. The angry man was screaming at him, and the grip on his throat was getting tighter... "You killed her, you killed her! Now, I'm going to kill you..." "No!" Gage screamed, waking himself up. He was covered in sweat and felt a strange panic course through him. But within a second, he came to realize that the cause of the fear had been a dream. Roy and Chet were beside him, having been woken up by his yell; however the rest of the guys were still fast asleep. "Gage, you okay?" Kelly asked, looking down at him. Johnny nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine..." he started, feeling his heart rate slowing down somewhat. "Must've been some dream," Roy whispered. "You sure you're okay? Want to talk about it?" "No, let's get some sleep before the tones go off," Gage insisted, feeling bad for having woken them up. "My idea, exactly," Chet muttered and went back to his bunk. However, sleep would not come easily for the dark haired paramedic. E!*E!*E!*E!*E! "Station 51, Station 45, Engine 127, Battalion 14, fire at the warehouse, 6903 Delaware, 6-9-0-3 Delaware, cross street Loden, time out 03:45." By the time Station 51 arrived at the scene, smoke was coming out of windows from inside the warehouse and they could see flames. Captain Stanley jumped off the engine and was met by police officer Vince Howard, whom they knew quite well. "Vince. This place looks abandoned. What've got?" Hank asked the officer. Station 51 was the first to arrive at the incident being mere blocks from the fire house and the captain hoped the policeman would be able to give him some details. "It is abandoned. I was following this guy, you know, he was up to no good, just walking around not far from here. Actually, it was in the proximity of your fire station, Captain Stanley. As soon as he saw that I was following him, he took off and got in a brown car and drove here. I lost him, but as you can see his car is still right there. Looks like he started this fire," Vince replied. "You mean a clear cut case of arson?" "You know it, I don't know where the guy went to. Plus, I ran the license plate and wouldn't you know it, that car was reported stolen earlier today. I've called it in, and there are two other units searching for this guy, but I really don't have much of a description, so tell your boys to be careful, he may still be around here," the cop cautioned. Stanley nodded and ran over to his men, who had started pulling the hoses off the engine. Roy and Johnny had donned their air tanks and looked at their captain waiting for his orders, as Engine 127 pulled up along side of them. The first thing Cap did was to cancel Station 45 and Battalion 14. Then he looked at his men and called over the captain of Engine 127. "This is an abandoned warehouse, men," Hank started. "There are no victims, but Vince here is pretty sure it's an arson case and that the man who set fire to it is still somewhere in the vicinity. Marco and Roy, I want you to go around to the south side and contain the fire there, Chet and Johnny, you go inside and make sure the fire doesn't get out of control there. Jeremy," Captain Stanley said, looking at the captain of Engine 127, "have your boys cover the east side. Let's get this thing under control!" The men went about fulfilling their captains' orders. The fire was not severe and it was not long before they had put it out. The worst of it was inside on the second floor where Gage and Kelly were standing there with the fully charged hose, letting the water rain down on it. Chet was at the front, while Johnny secured the hose behind him, wondering why someone would ever set fire purposely to any structure. He was so lost in thought that he did not hear the approaching footsteps of the person who had set the fire, coming up from behind him. Feeling something hit his side, Gage turned around, and startled, looked into the ski masked face of a person behind him. Kelly was still fighting the fire and at first, in the darkness, did not see the stranger until he heard Johnny's yell. Without thinking, the paramedic dropped the hose and ran after the suspect, leaving Chet to hold the hose by himself. The stocky firefighter watched helplessly as Gage sprinted off after someone dressed completely in black. As they came to the stairwell, Johnny advanced upon the person, but the person fought back, viciously shoving the medic down the stairs. Johnny fell, landing hard on his back as the suspect made a quick getaway. A moment later, Chet reached his side, looking worriedly at his friend. "Johnny, Johnny, are you okay?" Chet asked, concerned. The paramedic winced as he made an attempt to move. "Yeah, I think so," he replied huskily. "Hold tight, I'm going for help." "No, just give me a hand, I'm okay. Is the fire out?" Gage asked as Chet helped him to his feet. "Yeah, I got it all under control while you were playing detective. You sure you're okay?" "Yeah, let's get outta here," Johnny said, and grabbing the hose, they left the warehouse. E!*E!*E!*E!*E! The crew of Station 51 were back in their bunks at 5:00, and tired from the warehouse fire, they all slept deeply until the morning tones went off, waking them at 7:00 am. Johnny got up and put a pot of coffee on as Roy came up behind him and slapped him on the back. Gage groaned, still hurting from his fall down the stairs at the warehouse fire, which he had told no one about and had sworn Chet to secrecy. Kelly had wanted to say something about their brief encounter with the suspected arsonist, but Johnny had asked him not to, fearing a reprimand from Captain Stanley for having ran after the person, and so Chet had kept quiet. Roy noticed Johnny's painful jump as he slapped him and looked at him inquisitively. Johnny noticed Chet open his mouth to say something, but cut him off quickly. "I...guess I must've slept poorly," Gage muttered, giving Chet the eye. Then he decided to change the subject, hurriedly. "Hey, Roy, we all got a pretty good night's sleep last night. It's a great day. What say we go back to your place and grab Joanne and the kids and take them out to the beach for the day? After all, it is Saturday, and we're off until Monday morning..." "Ya know, Johnny that sounds like an excellent plan" Roy said and went over to the phone to call his wife, who was very happy to oblige. While he was talking to her, Chet approached Gage, staring at him with his arms folded and mustache twitching, until the paramedic could stand it no more. "C'mon, Chet, you know if I tell Roy, he'll have me at Rampart, I'll be there half the day taking X-rays and fighting with the doctor on duty, who, with my luck will probably be Morton, and that is after Roy reams me out about not telling him right away...not to mention what Cap will say. So, c'mon, Chet, ol' buddy, ol' pal? Let's just let it go, okay?" Gage whispered, his charm once again coming through in his smile. Reluctantly, and knowing this was a mistake, Chet nodded his agreement. E!*E!*E!*E!*E! Their shift now over, Johnny made plans to meet up with Roy at his house within an hour. He wanted to go home, shower and grab some things he would need for the beach. The young paramedic also wanted to stop at a store and get a couple of treats for Roy's two children, Chris and Jennifer. He was crazy about those kids, they feeling the same way towards him, and Johnny always brought them something when he knew he would be seeing them. Before long, the DeSotos and Johnny were frolicking in the warm sand, having a great time in the sun and water. Roy and Joanne lay luxuriously on the beach while Gage played with Chris and Jen. He swam with them, made sandcastles and then gave them the water guns and candy he had bought them at the store. Joanne made a face when she saw the candy, but Johnny's grin made her give in, easily. Roy pretended to be upset at her. "So how come I can't give them candy, but he can," Roy asked his wife, a pout on his face. "Well," Joanne thought, trying to come up with a feasible reason. "He's their uncle, he's supposed to spoil them." Roy beamed for a moment. "You know, it really does seem like he's the little brother I never had. I'm so glad that you and the kids feel the same way," he replied, quietly, watching as Johnny took a "hit" of water from Christopher's gun and fell down to the ground, amidst a fit of laughter from both his partner's children. They hurried over to him, as he pretended to be dead, and when they got closer, he rose, spraying them with his water gun. Both Chris and Jen ran away, squealing hysterically, as "Uncle" Johnny ran after them, picking them both up and heading out into the water with them. "You know Johnny is family and always will be," Joanne said, then started to laugh as she watched her children having the time of their lives. They stayed at the beach most of the day, until supper time, when Johnny ran up to the DeSoto's. He was soaking wet and dripped all over Joanne. Roy laughed at her as she jumped. "Hey, we're all starving here, why don't we go out for pizza? My treat," the dark haired paramedic offered. "Yeah, can we, Mom? Can we, Dad?" little Chris and Jen asked, almost in unison. "Sure, but we're paying," Joanne replied. "It's the least we can do to pay you back for your babysitting services all day." Johnny grinned. "You got a deal," he said. They found a nice little place not far away. It had a variety of items on the menu, everything from pizza to hamburgers. Although it was fairly busy, they were seated right away and given menus from a pretty blonde girl. After they had placed their order, the waitress came back to their table. She was smiling and staring at Johnny. "What is it?" he asked, uncomfortably. "Your dinner is on the house tonight, Mr. Gage," she replied. Johnny frowned. "Oh yeah? Why? And how do you know my name, Miss?" "Because I saw your picture in the newspaper." Roy and Johnny exchanged puzzled glances. The girl went over behind the counter and came back carrying the paper. She handed it to Johnny, who looked quickly down at his image, along with four other firefighters. It was an article that described the firemen's various acts of bravery and also made mention of the ceremony on Tuesday where they were to be honored formally. "Oh," he replied quietly and thanked the waitress. "Man, Roy, do you believe this article? It makes me sound like some kind of a hero or something. 'The five courageous firefighters will be honored privately at the Fireman's Hall on Stevens Street Tuesday night at 8:00'," Johnny read the statement out loud and grimaced. "You are a hero," Joanne spoke up, smiling at him. "Thanks, Joanne, but I'll tell you, like I tried to tell everyone else on the planet, I don't feel I deserve anything, because the girl is dead." They ate their meal as Johnny grew unusually quiet. He was still shocked by all the attention he was getting for this. Attention he neither wanted nor felt he had earned. He could not understand why everyone else thought that he did. Later, as the day came to an end and Johnny left the DeSoto's, he drove back to his house, perplexed. He was tired from the day's events and just wanted to relax for awhile in the comfort of his own home. Parking his Land Rover in his driveway, he got out and tried not to look at the damage from the keying on it. I have to get over to Marco's cousin's place and pick up the rental, he thought, and as he walked up the path to his house, he noticed with dismay that his front door was slightly ajar. Cautiously, and quietly, he entered his home and looked around the living room, his jaw dropping in anger. Everything was a mess. His furniture had been toppled over, pictures had been ripped off the walls, his records were strewn on the floor and his TV was lying face down on the carpet. He was so upset by what he saw, that he didn't even stop to think that whoever did this might still be in his house. Instead, he walked stealthily towards the small table in the living room that normally held his phone and saw that it too, was knocked over on the floor, the drawers from the table had been emptied, and the contents scattered all about. In disgust, he headed for the kitchen, expecting to see a similar disaster in there as well, but almost surprised when he saw that nothing in the kitchen had been disturbed. Gage grabbed the phone on the kitchen wall, and without thinking, proceeded to call Roy. "Hey Roy, you're not gonna believe this. But someone broke into my house and..." Johnny never finished his sentence. The next sound DeSoto heard was a loud thwack, followed by a crash, and then silence. E!*E!*E!*E!*E! He was standing high above the room, floating, watching as the doctors and nurses worked on his still body, which was lying on a treatment table. No thoughts were going through his mind, and all that he felt was an unbelievable inner contentment and a peace that he had never before experienced. All pain had eluded him. He continued to gaze down at the scene happening before him until he heard a soft voice calling out his name. It had been years since her death, but instantly he recognized the voice as that of his mother's. He glanced around, startled when he saw her approaching him. She looked incredibly beautiful and held her arms out to him in a loving embrace. "Mom! It's so good to see you! Mom!" Johnny cried, tears welling up in his eyes. "It's wonderful to be with you again, Johnny. But you can't stay," she replied, and pushed him away. He was both dumbfounded and hurt by her remark. "Why? Mom, it's so great here, I want to stay with you," he muttered and reached for her arms again. She backed away, shaking her head. "You have to go back, dear," his mother whispered. "You have things left to do." "I don't want to go back! There's too much pain, I can't do it, I don't want to do it!" Johnny stated forcefully. "It's not your time," the woman said, backing away even farther, continuing to do so until she was nearly out of sight. "Go back, Johnny, I will see you again, another time. Go back." "Mom, no!" the paramedic cried, then all went black. Roy stood next to Johnny in the treatment room, nervously waiting for Dr. Morton to come back with some news on how badly injured his partner was. The older paramedic had called the police and a squad after the phone call from Gage, fearing the worst when he could get no answer from Johnny. Roy had rushed over to Johnny's, meeting up with a police officer who had been first to find him, lying on his kitchen floor, bleeding from a wound to the back of his head, and unconscious. DeSoto had started first aid when the squad arrived, and they had transported the still comatose paramedic to Rampart. He had come to as soon as he was placed in the treatment room, and looked up to Roy for answers. "Roy," Gage muttered, weakly. "What the hell happened?" "I was hoping that you could tell me that," DeSoto remarked as Dr. Morton walked in just then, bringing with him a set of X-rays. He set them up on the lighted screen and observed them. "All I remember is calling you on the phone, and then everything went black," Johnny recalled, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head. "Yeah, whoever messed up your house, gave you a good whack on the head," Roy informed him. "You had me really worried. How do you feel?" "Fine, I'm okay now, let's get outta here," Johnny said, attempting to get up from the examining table, but held down by Roy who put his hand firmly on his chest, preventing him from moving. "What's the matter with you? You're not going anywhere until Morton says you can go," Roy replied. Johnny made a face and looked across the room at Dr. Morton who was still studying his X-rays. "Oh, God, of all the doctors....why him?" he whispered as the doctor made his way over. "How do you feel, Gage?" Morton asked, in his usual seriousness. "Doc, I'm fine. Can I go home, now?" the young paramedic asked. Mike disregarded Johnny's statement and instead turned to Roy. "How long was he out?" "About thirty minutes, doctor, " Roy answered, keeping a hand on Johnny's chest as he tried to rise up from the table once again. "I said, I feel fine, Morton," Gage replied, rolling his eyes, annoyed. Both the doctor and Roy ignored him. "He had weak responses to pain stimuli, he had me really worried. He was really out," Roy said. "Uh huh. Well, it appears he has a mild concussion. Pupils still sluggish?" Morton asked the nurse who had just come in and was in the process of taking Johnny's vital signs. The woman pulled out a penlight and observed Johnny's pupilary response. "Yes, doctor. His vitals are the same," she advised. "Is he going to be admitted?" Roy asked. Johnny was incensed; they were talking about him as though he wasn't even in the room. "Doc, I don't want to stay here!" Johnny fumed. "I feel great!" "With the amount of time he lost consciousness for and the sluggish pupils, yes, I'm going to have him stay the night for observation," Dr. Morton replied. "Nurse, have him admitted, please." "But, Morton, c'mon!" Johnny began, but his protest was futile. Both men glared at him and he knew he was staying whether he liked it or not. A short while later, the dark haired medic was taken to his own room. The police officer who had found him in his house stopped by to take a statement from him, but there wasn't anything that Johnny could tell him; he had not seen a thing. The cop left and, after having called Captain Stanley with the news that Johnny was in the hospital, at least for the night, Roy came back, with Dr. Brackett in tow. He  had heard about Gage's mishap and wanted to see how he was doing. The three men were talking when the door swung open and Chet Kelly walked in, a look of intense concern plastered on his face. "Well, I called Roy's, looking for you, and Joanne told me you were here, and I couldn't believe it. Then I started putting two and two together. Johnny, enough is enough," the stocky firefighter replied, in a husky, authoritative voice never before heard by any of the men in the room, and turned to Dr. Brackett. "While you're at it, why don't you check out his back. I'm sure you'll find some bruises on it, at the very least." "Chet, hush!" Johnny ordered, anger rising up inside him. "His back? Is there a problem?" Kel asked, moving closer towards the young paramedic. "No! Chet, you rat, you promised!" Johnny exclaimed and looked away, staring at the window. He was defeated right now and he knew it. Roy and Dr. Brackett exchanged puzzled glances. "What're you talking about, Chet?" DeSoto inquired, frowning. Kelly looked at Johnny, who refused to look back. "Him. He fell down the stairs at that warehouse fire last night, or more accurately, he was pushed down," the Irishman started. "He didn't want me to say anything to anybody, and at first I promised I wouldn't. But when I heard about this break in and attack I started thinking and I knew I had to. I'm sorry, Johnny. But too much is happening to you, pal. Too much that it makes me believe you are in some kind of trouble, and I think people should know. I think...Gage...he needs help." "Wait a second, back up a little!" Roy insisted. "Someone pushed Johnny down the stairs at that fire?" Chet nodded. "Yeah, pretty sure it was that arsonist Vince was chasing. Came right over to us and Gage here runs after him like the light brigade. I had to finish with the fire and when I finally found them I was just in time to see the guy shove Johnny down the stairwell..." Kel looked concerned. "Johnny, if there's a problem with your back being hurt..." Johnny forced himself to look at the three men by his bedside, but annoyance was written clearly on his face. "No, I'm okay, honestly, but Kelly, when I get outta here, I'm gonna kill you!" "Why didn't you want us to know?" Roy asked. "Because he was afraid you'd go ballistic and Cap would ream him out," Chet answered for Gage. "But I got to thinking about all this, I mean think about all that's happened..." "Exactly what I've been saying and trying to tell our stubborn friend here. I think it's too much to be just coincidental acts, that all this stuff is happening because someone out there doesn't like Johnny. Am I right, Chet? I mean, you're seeing this too?" DeSoto asked his crew mate. "You got it, Roy. Absolutely." Johnny finally spoke, irritation thick on his voice. "C'mon, you guys, be realistic for once in your lives. I'm just an ordinary guy and this is not an episode of 'Starsky and Hutch'," he retorted, trying to make them see reason. "Kelly, aren't you constantly telling me I'm a disaster magnet? That I'm accident prone..." "Yeah, but c'mon, Gage, as far as 'accidents' are concerned, this is a record, even for you. Think about it, and stop ignoring the facts," Chet replied. He really believed Gage was in some kind of trouble, and only wanted to help him. If he hadn't been thinking that, Kelly would never have broken his word to Johnny. Despite what he tried to make everyone believe, the stocky firefighter really cared about his "pigeon" and was afraid for his safety at the moment. He had been stunned to hear about the break in and attack on the paramedic. "Johnny, I hate to say it, but for once, I agree with Chet. I really think you should reconsider and contact the police. Tell them..." Roy began. "Tell them what, Roy?" Johnny fumed, becoming more irritated by the minute. "That my car had a flat tire? That I was hit by flying debris at a house fire? That I was a victim of a random house burglary? That's what the cop said, a "random" burglary. And so what if I was pushed down the stairs by a suspected arsonist. I chose to run after him, I didn't have to. All this stuff just amounts to bad luck, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, don't you see? It's almost like you two are suggesting I have a hit man out after me or something! You need to be realistic, this is everyday life..." Dr. Brackett, who had been standing by, quietly listening, spoke up. "Johnny, I hate to say it, but perhaps you should be a little more realistic. All these things I'm hearing about, and now with your being attacked in your own house, well, frankly, I'm inclined to agree with Roy and Chet. Maybe you should get the police involved, for your own safety and our peace of mind. Have them keep an eye on you and your house..." "You guys are jumping to conclusions," Gage retorted, getting riled. His face was flushed and his hands were drawn into tight fists. Dr. Brackett noticed how their conversation was affecting the patient. "Look, I think we should let our young friend here get some rest. I'll have Dr. Morton come in and check on you, Johnny. C'mon, fellas, visiting hours are over." With that, the three men left the room, leaving Johnny to fume inside by himself. A few moments later, Dr. Morton entered, took the paramedic's pulse and checked his eyes once again with a penlight. "Get some rest," the doctor advised. Johnny still felt angry, taking it out on Mike. "Get some rest! Get some rest! Now, how am I supposed to do that, Morton? I don't even want to be here! And I know as soon as I do fall asleep, some nurse will only come by every damn hour to wake me up!" the dark haired young man snapped. Dr. Morton was not upset by Johnny's outburst. "Look, Gage, either you close your eyes and go to sleep, or I'll give you something that'll relax you until Christmas," he threatened and started for the door. "And, by the way, the nurse'll be by every two hours to check on you," he corrected, smiling at the distressed young man lying in the hospital bed. As the doctor left the room and turned into the corridor, he nearly smacked right into a man who had been standing there, right by the door. Surprised, Mike moved out of the way, saying, "Excuse me, I didn't see you." The man smiled at Dr. Morton. "Quite all right, doctor. Don't give it another thought." With that said, the strange man looked into Gage's room for a second and left the ward. E!*E!*E!*E!*E! Johnny was miserable the next day, having had nearly no sleep during his stay at Rampart. He just wanted to get out and go home, knowing he had a lot of work to do cleaning up his ransacked house. Gage was unaware that the crew of Station 51 had gone over to his house that morning to do the cleaning up for him. They had also taken his Land Rover over to Marco's cousins auto body shop and picked up his rental, a sleek new black truck. The guys were impressed and knew that Johnny would love it. Roy planned to drive it over to Rampart when Gage was released to pick him up and surprise him with it. As they worked around their friend's home, picking up the mess and putting the furniture back in place, all the firefighters hoped that he would be sent home today. They were all going to go see him at the hospital, regardless. In his room at Rampart, Johnny had time to do a great deal of thinking. He was angry with himself for not being able to admit that he thought his friends were right about someone purposely causing the things that had happened to him. Inside, Johnny knew something was terribly wrong and he truly did believe that someone out there was sending him a message. But he couldn't let his crewmates know he was thinking that, didn't want them to get over protective, like they had already started to. He also did not want to live his life feeling victimized and worried. So, he kept up his charade of acknowledging the events as simple bad luck, hoping that the guys would start to think that too, and stop concerning themselves. After all, they all had better things to do with their lives then be worried about him. But Johnny was starting to think he knew exactly who was behind the chain of events that had plagued him and if he was right, then he couldn't help but feel he rather deserved it. After all, he had been responsible for allowing the death of the man's daughter, and how could he possibly come forward and start pointing fingers at a man who was upset and grieving? No, Johnny decided, if it is Sanchez doing all these things, then I will have no part in accusing him. Johnny shuddered, remembering the things Mr. Sanchez had yelled at him at the scene of that terrible accident, but not wanting to believe that the man could be the cause of everything. Even though Sanchez had viciously yelled at him, making him feel guilty, the man seemed so small and frail to Johnny, especially when he had seen him break down and cry. Realizing that these little annoyances could not possibly last forever, Johnny relaxed somewhat and decided to stop thinking about it. He momentarily forgot about the phone calls. He forced himself  to believe that his attack was merely "random" as the cop had put it.  But no matter who it was behind the occurrences, if it was anybody at all, he had no proof whatsoever and would not even consider bringing the police in to accuse a man who had suffered so tremendously. And besides, he thought, maybe the guys are just putting these thoughts into my head, that all of these dumb things are just simple explainable little forms of bad luck, not someone "out to get me." Dr. Morton came into the young paramedic's room, early in the afternoon, and after giving him an exam discharged him from the hospital, with orders to rest. Except for being tired, Johnny felt fine and wanted nothing more than to go home. As the doctor was signing his release papers, Roy, Chet, Marco, Mike and Captain Stanley walked into his room. Johnny was pleased that all the guys were there and they were happy to hear he was being sent home. "Are you feeling okay to come into work in the morning?" Cap asked. "Yeah, Cap, for sure. I may be a little tired though, I have a lot of work to do around the house," Gage replied, frowning, still unaware that these men had did it all for him. No one said a word; they wanted Johnny to be surprised. "It can wait, Johnny," Roy began. "Dr. Morton told me outside you're not to do anything today, except relax." "Well, Gage, we all are glad you're okay," Chet spoke up, although dubiously. He was still worried about the paramedic, even though he would never admit it. If it were up to the Irishman, he would have called the police and made sure the paramedic had a twenty-four hour watch over him. "Yeah, Johnny, you sure gave us a scare," Marco told him. "The next time you go home and your door is open, don't go inside the house!" Mike warned, toussling Gage's hair. "Call the police, you lughead." Johnny smiled sheepishly. He was lucky to have this fine group of men as friends and co-workers and he knew it. And he didn't want to worry them anymore. They walked out of his room and Mike, Marco, Chet and Cap said good-bye. Roy stayed with him and as they left Rampart for the parking lot, neither paramedic paid any attention to a man standing near the exit door. His back was turned to them, but he was eyeing them just the same. When they walked through the door, the man turned quickly around, and glaring at them, swore softly under his breath. E!*E!*E!*E!*E! Johnny was excited when he saw the rental pick up truck which Roy had driven over with, but he was most touched when they entered his home. He had fully expected to see the place still in a shambles, and he was genuinely moved seeing the work his friends had did on his behalf. "Wow, you guys did all this?" Johnny asked quietly. "Looks even better than before. Thanks a lot, Roy, you know I appreciate it." Roy nodded, glad that his partner was home. He knew he needed his rest though, and turned around, walking back to the front door, to leave. "Look, Johnny, if you're hungry, Joanne made some food for you, we put it in the refrigerator. There's lots of it, so eat up. And if you're not feeling one hundred percent, you make sure you call in tomorrow, everyone will understand," DeSoto said, walking out to the door with Gage following behind him. "You don't have to go, why don't you come in and stay awhile?" the younger man offered, stifling a yawn. "Thanks, but you look exhausted. And Joanne has about a hundred more things for me to do around the house. But, let me know if you're still not feeling well, and if you need anything else." "I will, Roy, and, ah...thanks." Johnny shut the door behind his best friend, and yawning once again, made his way over to the sofa. Within minutes his eyes had closed and he was fast asleep. E!*E!*E!*E!*E! The sound of the telephone ringing woke Johnny up with a start. Quickly glancing at his wall clock, he noticed it was nearly 5:30. He had been sleeping all afternoon. Groggily, he reached over to the little table beside the sofa and answered the phone, certain that it was Roy calling to check up on him. He said hello into the receiver and waited for an acknowledgement, but after a few long seconds, none came. "Hello? Is anybody there?" the paramedic replied, feeling angry that this invasion was happening yet again. No answer. Gage was just about to hang up the phone, when he thought of something. "Mr. Sanchez, is this you? I think you should know that I've alerted the police and..." Click. The silence was gone and the dial tone came back. Johnny shook his head, not realizing the impact his words had on his caller. Slowly, a disheveled Gage got up from the sofa and made his way into the kitchen, where he put on a pot of coffee. While he waited for the coffee, he looked into the fridge and saw the many different containers of the delicious home-made food Joanne DeSoto had prepared for him. He realized he was starving and turned his oven on to warm some of it up. As he ate, he wondered if it really was Sanchez who had called him. Guess I'll never know for sure, he thought. But if it wasn't Sanchez, then who could it be? No one else had ever said threatening words to him before. Maybe he had pissed someone off, but he couldn't remember anything that severe. He did recall a rescue from over a month ago, where he had been less than pleasant with the wife of a victim who had suffered a heart attack, but she was getting in the way, ordering them around as though she were a doctor and he had ran out of patience, speaking rather harshly to her. Nah, couldn't be...he reasoned, and then shuddered, remembering that the husband had died en route to the hospital. While he was thinking about that rescue, he started to remember a couple of other rescues where he might have perceivably come off as being overly harsh. But he hadn't meant to, he had only been doing his job, and these people were preventing him from doing so. Although he had startled them with his blunt words at the time, he did not think they would have been angered enough to start the chain of events that had been happening to him. Oh well, c'mon, Gage, just forget about it and let it go... He got up after eating and cleaned away the dishes. He thought about going out for awhile, then decided not to, he'd just better rest so that he would feel okay to go to work in the morning. So, he sat back down on the sofa, turned on the TV and the awards ceremony on Tuesday came flooding back into his head. Here it was, just two days away, and he did not even know what he was wearing yet. Grimacing, and still wishing there was some way he could get out of going, Johnny went into his bedroom and tried to decide what he should wear. As he looked through his closet, he would never know that the stranger who had broken into his house was back, staring at him through the window, a gun pointed directly at him. Gage would also never know that it was a stray cat, jumping off his fence hissing at the stranger, startling the man and sending him on his way, that saved his life that evening. E!*E!*E!*E!*E! Monday morning came and the crew of Station 51 were back after their day of rest. Captain Stanley waited patiently for John Gage to arrive, promising himself he wouldn't be mad if the paramedic was a little late. But Johnny surprised him and got to work with five minutes to spare. They lined up for roll call and afterwards, as the men did their assigned chores, Johnny and Roy were talking as they washed the windows on the squad. Roy was happy to see his partner appeared fine, but vowed to keep an eye on him, just the same. One day resting for a concussion wasn't very much, and Roy knew that sometimes it could take days before any serious symptoms might occur. But Johnny felt good, and DeSoto let his fears rest as they worked. "You know, it was the strangest thing," Gage began, taking the cleaner and spraying the front window of the squad with it. "I woulda been here earlier this mornin', but as I was walking out the door, there was this big, tabby cat sitting on my front porch. I didn't even scare him away when I opened the door, he just sat there looking at me. So, I felt a little sorry for him and went back inside and gave him a can of tuna and some milk." "Uh oh," DeSoto replied, as he checked the supplies in the drug box. "What do you mean, 'uh oh'?" Johnny asked, continuing to clean the other side of the squad's window. "Nothing. Just if you feed a stray cat, well, he'll be over at your place constantly, looking for a free meal," Roy said. Johnny shrugged and smiled. "So what? I was kinda thinking it's time to get a pet anyway, and the little fellow was really friendly to me." "Uh huh," DeSoto said, looking over at Gage, smiling. "So, what'd you name him?" Johnny was surprised by Roy's question and dropped the glass cleaner. Roy couldn't possibly know him that well, could he? Scooping up the cleaner, he carried on with his chore nonchalantly. "So, what makes you think I named him?" the dark haired medic asked. "Maybe I was just being nice to him, ya know, it was the first time I saw him there and when I started to pat him, he just began purring. Loudly. It was really cute." "I know you. What'd you name him?" DeSoto asked again, as he closed the drug box and reached for the biophone. "Buddy, I named him 'Buddy'," Johnny answered, quietly, grinning. "Uh huh," Roy replied again as he set up the biophone for the daily testing with Rampart. "I guess we'll be stopping at the store so you can pick him up some food, won't we?" Johnny's smile grew wider. "I knew you'd understand, Roy." The paramedics' first call of the day was late morning when they responded to a car accident. It was not serious in nature and both victims were transported to the hospital where Gage and DeSoto learned they would be okay. When they arrived back at the station, Cap had made his famous clam chowder and they all sat down to enjoy it. "Gage, don't forget about tomorrow," Hank warned as they ate the delicious soup. Johnny glanced up, a most discontented expression on his face. "Gee, Cap. Why'd ya have to remind me? I was trying not to think about it. It's going to be some big due, and I still don't want any part of it." "Yes, it's a big due, as you so eloquently put it. We're all going to be there, along with about two hundred other firefighters to watch you get that citation. And I just want to make sure that you be extra careful today on shift. I don't want anything to happen to our 'star' here at Station 51," Stanley remarked, smiling. Johnny made a face and dropped the bun he had been eating. "Ah, Cap," he started, wanting them to stop with the compliments. But the look on Hank's face told him this was not a discussion to argue with, so he kept quiet and ate the rest of his soup in silence. The other men realized Gage was still bugged about it, and did not mention it the rest of the shift. Two more calls ensued during the day, one a kitchen fire in a small house, with no victims, and the other involved the rescue of a man who had become trapped in his house after a gas leak explosion. His injuries were serious, although not life threatening, and he was taken to Rampart where Dr. Early predicted he would make a complete recovery. At around eleven o'clock that evening, the station was called out to a ranch up in the hills that had caught fire. As they stopped at the scene they could see the large, sprawling house was totally engulfed in flames. The yard around it was also on fire, which made it difficult for the paramedics to get inside the house to rescue the four victims who had become trapped by the inferno. One person, a man in his late forties was d.o.a. as they found him; he had been the last one and it had been too late to save him. Johnny and Roy were bothered by it, as they always were when they lost a victim, but kept busy treating the other three persons they had rescued. The engine crews battled the fire for nearly three hours until it was contained, but the house was completely destroyed. They had been lucky that the flames had not reached the two barns on the property near the ranch house, which most certainly would have killed the cows and horses inside them. The cause of the fire, they had learned, was careless smoking. It was nearly two-thirty in the morning when the squad arrived back at the station after the follow-up to Rampart, and exhausted, the paramedics joined the engine crew, who were already asleep in the dorm. None of the firefighters had any idea that a man stood outside the station, peering in at them through the dorm window, a loaded gun in his pocket. The rest of the night was quiet, and the firefighters slept soundly; unaware, as the man outside left finally, swearing and cursing the young, dark haired paramedic of Station 51's A shift. "I'll get you, Gage, I'll get you yet. Just you wait," the man muttered huskily in the still night air. Clutching the gun in his pocket, he turned and stealthily walked away, the promise of his vengeance coursing through his mind. E!*E!*E!*E!*E Tuesday morning, when their shift ended, Captain Stanley approached the two paramedics as they were about to leave. "See you tonight at the ceremony," he said and they both nodded. "You know everybody's gonna be there, so please, Johnny, be careful." Johnny looked at him dejectedly and frowned, knowing what he meant. Roy looked at his partner, and instantly a strange feeling came over him that he could not explain. A sinking uneasiness that quelled in the pit of his stomach, warning him that something was wrong. For a moment, he believed it was still concern he felt for Gage and found himself wondering if he would be okay. But as quickly as the feeling overcame him, DeSoto attempted to dismiss it. Nothing had happened to Johnny since the attack on him in his house Saturday night and Roy had started to believe that everything that had happened to his friend actually was coincidental and completely explainable. But, to satisfy his own curiosity about the bad feeling, DeSoto offered to follow Johnny back to his house. "That's not necessary, I'm fine, Roy. Go home to your wife. I'll see you tonight - pick you up at 7:00?" "Okay," Roy replied, and although the uneasy feeling was still present, he brushed it off and left the station with his partner. E!*E!*E!*E!*E! The man parked his car on Stevens Street and looked at his watch. It was nearly six p.m. Smiling broadly, he exited the vehicle, and going around to the trunk, opened it. He pulled out a long wooden case and tucking it close to his body, walked cautiously up to the building that was the Fireman's Hall. Looking around to be sure no one was watching him, he walked to the front door and tried to open it. As he had guessed, it was locked. Undaunted, the man, dressed in black pants and a long black coat, walked around to the side of the hall, and discovered a second door, which he found to be open. This is too easy, he thought and quietly entered the building, and again making certain that no one was around to see him. Once inside, the stranger crept through the large structure, taking notice of the layout, clutching the large case under his coat. He saw the stage in the center, surrounded by various tables and chairs, and walked quietly to the back where he discovered an office. Surprised, he heard people in there, talking, and quickly left the area. He proceeded to go to the stage area, happily seeing  that the entrance along the side of the stage was dark and concealed. He would have no problem hiding there unnoticed. The stage curtain and small closet to the side offered him much protection against being seen and he knew it was only a matter of time until he could put his final plan into play. The man grinned as he entered the closet. He quickly closed the door as he heard the voices again, entering the stage area. He guessed there to be three or four men there, who were setting up for the evening's festivities. The strange, deluded man was confident that he wouldn't be bothered in the closet, and opening up the case he'd brought, removed the high powered rifle and began to attach the silencer. When it was time, he would slip unnoticed from the closet and open fire. But for now, he waited, putting the bullets he had brought into the rifle and smiling. E!*E!*E!*E!*E! Johnny spent the day without incident doing chores around his house. He saw Buddy return back to his house in the afternoon, and cheerfully fed the animal a can of food he had purchased at the store with Roy. The cat ate the food, thankfully, as Johnny watched, then proceeded to rub up against him, purring loudly. As Gage was petting him, Buddy jumped up into his lap, making himself right at home. The paramedic sat for a while stroking the animal who had lovingly fallen asleep on Gage's legs. Johnny relaxed, and forgot all about the unfortunate events that had plagued him over the past few days. Later on that evening, with the cat now sleeping on his bed, Johnny dressed in his best charcoal colored suit and silk tie in preparation for the awards ceremony at the Fireman's Hall. He felt pretty good by the time he picked Roy up and decided that despite what he thought he would need to make the best of it. As he got into the shiny black truck Gage was driving, Roy complimented him, smiling. All his thoughts of uneasiness from the morning had eluded the older man. "You look great, Johnny. I think you're gonna be the best dressed recipient there tonight." Johnny smiled back. "I do look good, don't I? Ya know, though, it's a real shame I have to waste all this in a roomful of men," he stated jokingly, laughing as they drove. Inside the Fireman's Hall, they met up with the rest of Station 51, which included almost every man on all three shifts. A lot of the guys had traded up with other firefighters just to be there to honor Johnny. Even a couple of on-duty paramedics were there, standing at the back, to partake in the festivities, having made themselves available at the Hall location. There were at least 200 men there and the young paramedic felt very overwhelmed by it all. The hall was loud and buzzing as Johnny and Roy got drinks and walked around talking to their fellow firefighting friends. Promptly at 8:00 the five recipients were ushered to the stage at the front of the large room, while the on-lookers took seats at various tables around the hall. Chief McKonikee walked up on center stage, and standing at a pedestal began speaking into a microphone, complimenting the bravery of the five men beside him. "A few times a year, it is both an honor and a privilege to come into this hall and give praise to the firefighters who unduly perform unprecedented acts of bravery while in the line of duty. All five of these men before you, have achieved a level of distinction because of the personally life threatening rescues that they performed, going above and beyond the normal expectations of their jobs. They most undoubtedly came within seconds of losing their own lives while engaged in these duties. Therefore, it is the opinion of the Los Angeles County Fire Department that they receive a special recognition for their truly outstanding and courageous job performances. "Most of the time, men are honored who commit such gallant acts of bravery, that had it not been for these acts, their victims would not have survived. "Tonight, we are going to celebrate the bravery, recognized by the Department, by these five men who performed similar acts in order to save a victim, even though fate decided that their victims would not survive. As unfortunate as that is, the Department realized that these men deserved the award nonetheless, as they acted on reflex, putting themselves in great danger in their vast determination to save a life. Selflessly, and with no thoughts for their own safety, so caught up in their rescue attempts, that they were nearly killed along with the victims they tried so desperately to save. "Gentlemen, tonight I give you the recipients of the Los Angeles County Fire Departments Citation of Bravery, for outstanding performances above and beyond the call of duty. They are...." Everyone was cheering and applauding to the Chief's heartwarming speech. All eyes were watching as Chief McKonikee called each man's name and individually shook his hand and handed him a citation. The applause from the on-lookers was almost deafening. Johnny sat there nervously as his name was called last and when he stood up to approach the Chief, he did not notice that an uninvited, strange man had made his way inside the hall and was standing off-stage to the right, hidden in the darkness behind the stage curtain, watching most intently. Johnny smiled, and shook hands with Chief McKonikee, accepting his award with a heavy heart. Turning to his right to walk off stage he was again overwhelmed by the cheers and applause from the audience, still not believing he deserved this. No one in the audience saw the mysterious man raise a large caliber rifle, equipped with a silencer and scope and take aim at Johnny. And no one heard the shot as it left the rifle, nor did anyone see the man as he hurriedly made his exit from the building. But everyone saw as Johnny took the bullet and whirled, falling heavily to the floor. For Roy, the whole ordeal seemed to happen in slow motion, as the cheering and applause turned into gasps of fear and disbelief. The two paramedics who were on duty, ran out to their squad to get some equipment, not knowing, at first, exactly what was wrong with the fallen paramedic. While the rest of Station 51 tried to restore some order in the hall, Roy and Chet frantically made their way up to the stage. When they got there, Johnny was laying face down, and Chief McKonikee was just turning him onto his back. The men in the hall had realized, in shock, what had just happened, and suddenly chaos erupted, with everyone seemingly shouting out orders to get down, or run, or get help. "He's been shot!" the Chief replied incredulously, although unnecessarily, looking at the pool of blood the young paramedic was laying in. "Chief, we need an ambulance and police right away, we need those paramedics that were on duty here with their equipment, and you need to get these men calmed down and out of here!" Roy replied, his voice shaking as he quickly knelt and opened Johnny's jacket to reveal the bloody, gaping wound in his young partner's chest. Johnny was barely conscious, and breathing with great difficulty. It was apparent he was starting to go into shock as his vital signs were dropping and he was losing even more blood. As gently as his trembling hands could manage, DeSoto lifted the dark haired paramedic slightly, searching for an exit wound. There wasn't one. Visibly disturbed, Roy took off his suit jacket and ripped his own shirt off, using it as a temporary bandage, applying pressure to the chest wound as he waited impatiently for the two uniformed paramedics to return with the first aid equipment they so desperately needed. "Take it easy, partner," Roy tried to smile, but his heart was pounding and he hoped his eyes did not radiate the fear he was feeling. He knew he had to keep Johnny calm, but it was exceedingly difficult, as Roy himself was greatly shaken. This was not another victim, this was DeSoto's partner and best friend. "He...he finally got me," Johnny sputtered, his face extremely pale. "Don't try to talk, Junior. We're gonna take you to Rampart. You're going to be okay,"  Roy said in a raspy voice, mostly trying to convince himself, and angry that he couldn't manage to keep his voice even. "No, Roy," the young man replied shakily, his face wincing in pain. "It's...over...for me." "No, Johnny, please don't. You are going to be fine, believe me." "No, Roy," Gage wheezed. "I think...I think...its...I know...who did this...to me." Chet was helping Roy with the vital signs and the Irishman was desperately wondering what was taking the paramedics and ambulance so long, even though he knew it had only been seconds since Johnny was shot. Roy's worried expressions did not get past him and he too found himself becoming more and more anxious. Kelly looked around and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the two uniformed paramedics re-enter the building, carrying all of their equipment. "What?" Roy was saying. "You know who shot you?" The light haired paramedic was grabbing another piece of his shirt and applying it to Johnny's wound which he could not get to stop bleeding. "Harold....Harold Sanchez," he wheezed out with great effort and fell into a semi-unconscious state just as the paramedics reached his side. "Greg! Quick, get his BP, I got a pulse of 120, respirations are 30 and labored," Roy advised, shock and fear echoing off his voice. He kept his hand firmly in place on Gage's chest wound as Chet ran around, grabbing the oxygen and placing a mask over the fallen medic's face. The paramedic named Greg took the blood pressure, as another by the name of Bill got on the biophone. "What is it, Greg?" Roy asked. He heard the sound of sirens approaching and in the background Chief McKonikee was speaking to the men in the hall, trying to get them to remain calm and seated. They were all worried and anxious about their fallen comrade. "BP's 90 over 60, he's losing blood fast and going into shock." "Dammit, dammit!" Roy muttered as the ambulance attendants jogged quickly up to the stage. "Come on, what's Rampart want? We need to start an IV!" Bill was repeating Dr. Brackett's orders. "IV D5W, TKO, 6 liters oxygen. Apply pressure bandage to the wound. New set of vitals in one minute, keep warm 10-4, Rampart. Transporting immediately. ETA 10 minutes." As Johnny was being lifted onto the gurney, he opened his eyes briefly and glanced up at Roy's worried face. Slowly, he reached up and removed the oxygen mask from around his face, trying to talk to his partner as they both got into the ambulance. "Roy..." he coughed and wheezed. "Johnny, please don't try to talk. We'll be at the hospital in a few minutes." "I'm...I'm so....cold...." Roy reached out for his partner's arm and felt him trembling. He grabbed another blanket, placed it gently down on his best friend, and replaced the oxygen mask over his face. "There, take it easy." "No, Roy...I'm....really scared, it's over....for me. It...doesn't hurt anymore." Roy was fighting to keep the tears at bay. He had to remain strong and poised, for Johnny's sake. "Don't be silly, Johnny. You've only used up four or five of your nine lives. You're going to be fine. I'm not going to let anything happen to you." "I...told you I didn't want to go to the ceremony." Johnny was gasping with the words. Roy could tell his condition was going downhill fast. DeSoto insisted on going with the wounded man in the ambulance and no one was about to tell him otherwise. The ride was overwhelming for the men, and Roy feared they would lose Johnny before they got him to Rampart. He was falling in and out of consciousness, struggling to speak, and even with Roy's best attempts to calm him, Johnny seemed to sense he would not survive this. By the time they reached the hospital, Johnny had lapsed into unconsciousness again. In exam room 2, Roy stood to the side and watched helplessly as Dr. Brackett and Dr. Morton, along with Dixie and another nurse, worked feverishly on his young partner. "BP 80 over 40, pulse 60, respirations 15 and labored. Bilateral rawls in the right lung," the nurse informed the doctors. Then a moment later, "Doctor, he's stopped breathing!" "NO!" Roy cried out, panic stricken, his face ashen. He moved towards the table Johnny was laying motionless on. "Dix! Take him outa here!" Dr. Brackett shouted, grimacing as he studied the EKG monitor Gage's heart was hooked up to. Dr. Morton grabbed the paddles and charged the equipment, certain that they would be needing it in the next few seconds. Dixie literally had to force Roy out of the room as he watched with tears in his eyes, desperately wanting to be there for his friend, and wanting for this to all go away. Outside, Roy was inconsolable and Dixie saw a side of Roy she had never known. His emotions got the best of him. He was angry and yelling and stifling sobs. She put her arm around him, trying hard to comfort him, but she too was having trouble controlling her own feelings. "Roy, you've got to calm down," she replied looking straight into his tear-filled blue eyes. "Don't you get it, Dix? He's gonna die and this is all my fault," Roy whimpered. Dixie shook her head, knowing full well the guilt trips DeSoto always laid on himself whenever Johnny was hurt. "What are you talking about?" "I should have demanded he get police protection after he got attacked on Saturday night. I forced him to go to the ceremony; he didn't want anything to do with it! He asked me to help him cancel it, but I didn't! I should have listened to him!" "Roy, c'mon. Now you're not going to do him or yourself any good by feeling responsible for something you had no idea was going to happen. He's young and he's strong. And he's in there with the best doctors L.A. County has. You've got to believe he's going to make it!" "I'm trying, Dix, but, you should have seen the blood...and...and...oh God!" DeSoto looked down, and for the first time, realized he was wearing only his suit jacket, which was covered in his partner's blood. "C'mon, why don't we go see the other guys?" Dixie suggested, looking towards the waiting room at the fifteen or twenty men who were anxiously waiting there, staring over at Roy, surprised and frightened by his outburst. But Roy shook his head. "I want to be right here for when the doctors are finished with him." He was still outside the room, leaning against the wall, when both Dr. Brackett and Dr. Morton came out of the room. He looked from one grim face to the other, and slowly the shock overcame him. He felt his body tremble and his knees go weak as a single tear slipped from his right eye and fell down his cheek. "You mean...he's...dead?" Roy whispered, in disbelief. His heart skipped a beat and he felt as though he were a participant in a very bad dream. This could not possibly be happening. "No, Roy," Dr. Brackett started to explain and Roy felt somewhat relieved. "But he's still a very critically injured young man. He arrested on us twice, Roy. We brought him back and I tried to open his chest to remove the bullet, but it's too far inside. His right lung is badly damaged and I'm sending him up to the OR for them to finish." "Will he make it?" the older paramedic asked sadly. "Too soon to tell yet. He's lost a lot of blood and the damage to his lung is quite extensive. He's hooked up to a respirator now, and he's getting a transfusion, but our only hopes are that the surgeons up in the OR can find and remove that bullet in time to save him. Roy, it's gonna be touch and go. He's in a very weakened state...I've done all I can for him here," Dr. Brackett replied, an even more serious look on his face. "Can...can I see him?" Roy's raspy voice whispered. Dr. Brackett hesitated. He knew full well how close the two paramedics were. He did not want Roy to see him lying there unconscious, barely alive, hooked up to a machine and with IV's surrounding him. But he also knew that the young man was critical, and Johnny could die at any moment. The doctor himself was not hopeful that the paramedic would survive the surgery. "Please, Doc. I just gotta see him," Roy begged and finally Brackett nodded. "Okay, but only for a minute. We have to get him to the OR. Right now that's his only chance." Inside, Roy was definitely not prepared for what he saw. His young partner, so alive and vibrant and full of candor only two hours ago, was now laying there, oblivious to the danger he was in, with tubes and needles, looking pale and lifeless. Roy watched his chest rise and fall, and listened to the pumping sound of the respirator as it forced oxygen into his body. Roy touched his arm softly, but there was no acknowledgement. Roy's emotions got the best of him once again and for a moment he wept openly, allowing the tears to fall before the door opened and Dr. Morton walked in. He put his arm around Roy's shoulders as the dark haired young man was wheeled out of the room. Roy wiped his eyes and took one last, long glance at the man he considered a brother, in the event he would never see Johnny alive again. During Johnny's surgery, Chet grabbed Roy where he took him into the men's room to wash up and get a hold of himself. Chet too, was both scared and outraged, definitely very concerned for his friend and nemesis, but he knew he had to be strong for Roy, who was falling apart. After Roy had finished washing his face, Chet handed him a towel. "Look, pal, he's gonna get through this. He's gonna get through this just like he's gotten through the hundred or so other things that have happened to him since we've known him." "I'm really scared this time, Chet. You didn't see him hooked up to the respirator, so...so helpless. So lifeless...it didn't even look like him!" Roy replied gravely. "I know. But Johnny's practically invincible. Nothing can hurt him. Man, he's going to live for about a hundred or so more years! C'mon, Roy, let's go out and sit with the rest of the guys. You got to believe he's gonna be fine, pal." As the two of them walked towards the waiting area, they saw a police officer speaking to the group. Roy and Chet rushed over. "What is it?" Roy asked. "Just wanted to tell all you men that we followed the lead Captain Stanley here gave us and went and picked up Harold Sanchez. He'd just gotten home and the rifle was still in his car. Put up quite a fight when we got there. One of our own men nearly got shot as well. That Sanchez, you should've seen the arsenal of weapons the man has in his house. Unbelievable. We arrested him for attempted murder and he's in jail right now." Roy felt glad that the man who'd harmed his partner had been caught and put away, but he also felt stupid for not putting two and two together to realize it had to be him. But he, like Johnny, just had not taken the man's words seriously and believed he had been a mourning father, venting anger towards whomever happened to be involved. And the fact that Roy had not been present at that rescue left him no clue as to how intense Mr. Sanchez had been towards Johnny. DeSoto was also angry with himself for not insisting the dark haired medic get police help following the break in and attack at his home, and even after the unexplainable bad feeling Roy had experienced that morning. Roy was also silently praying that the charge laid against Harold Sanchez would not be upgraded, in the event his young partner did not survive the surgery. As if reading his thoughts, Captain Stanley got up and walked over to Roy, who's face was pale and who looked as though he were going to be sick. "C'mon, Roy, he's going to make it," Cap replied in an effort to soothe DeSoto. Roy smiled weakly in return. "Yeah, I really hope so, Cap." By the time the surgeon who had been operating on Johnny came out to speak to the men in the waiting room, it was nearly three hours later, and only Roy, Chet, and Captain Stanley remained. Dr. Brackett saw him approach them and walked over to introduce him. "Fellas, this is Dr. Hibbert, he performed the surgery on Johnny." Roy took the statement the wrong way, and immediately his chin dropped. "Performed?" he repeated weakly, feeling sick all over again. "Easy Roy," Dr. Brackett replied. "Johnny made it through the surgery and he's in recovery right now." "Yes, it was a bad wound, and the next 24 hours are going to be critical. It could still go either way, but I think he has a good chance," Dr. Hibbert spoke up. Roy, a self-confirmed unreligious man, said yet another silent prayer and Chet and Cap Stanley took turns shaking Dr. Hibbert's hand. As it was now going on 2:00AM, the three men from Station 51 left Rampart to go home, knowing their friend was being given the best of care. They also knew he would sleep for a good long time and Dixie promised to call Roy to advise him when he could see him. Roy was glad that they were off duty the next day, because he wanted to spend the day at the hospital. He had not slept very well, worrying about his partner and knew that it would have been impossible for him to concentrate on his job. When Dixie did not call him that morning, Roy decided to call her. Her news was not comforting and Roy was very distraught. "Sorry, Roy, he's still on the critical list. We're keeping him medicated and highly sedated right now so he will sleep. He's got a chest tube and he's still on the respirator. His body is fighting to heal and sleep is the best thing for him now," she informed him. Roy knew that there was no reason for him to hang around at Rampart so he decided to take his kids to school and go out shopping with Joanne. But every couple of hours or so, he would go to a payphone and call the hospital for an update on Johnny's condition. There was no change. The DeSoto's went out for lunch, but Roy struggled to eat. Joanne was trying to keep his mind off his friend, but her husband seemed quite saddened, and her efforts to cheer him were futile. Finally, around 3:00, Roy and Joanne got home and Roy rushed to the phone. It was ringing as they entered their house. "Roy, he woke up briefly. He asked for you," Dixie said without telling him more. The fair haired paramedic rushed back out and drove to Rampart expecting to see his partner bright-eyed, energetic and full of life. But as he got there, Dr. Brackett told him that Johnny had taken a turn for the worse. "He's awake again, Roy. But an infection has set in. We're treating him with massive doses of antibiotics. We took him off the respirator and he's breathing on his own, but he's in a very weakened state and I don't like it. His temperature is 102, and I'm worried this infection might kill him, if we can't stop it." Roy felt as though his world were crumbling in around him. For a moment, he felt faint. What more could go wrong? "Can I see him, Doc?" Roy asked quietly. "Sure. I'll go up with you, I was just about to go check on him anyway." When Roy walked in and looked at his friend, Johnny's appearance shocked him. Dr. Brackett glanced at Roy and noticed the look of concern on his face. Johnny was lying in the bed, eyes semi-closed, surrounded by IV's. A tube snaked out of his chest and DeSoto could see fluid emptying from it. Gage had an oxygen canula in his nose, but even with that Roy could hear him wheezing as he struggled to breathe. "Hey partner," Johnny said weakly, but smiled, happy to see Roy at last. "Hey yourself. How're you feeling?" Roy asked, then felt stupid. He could see how bad Johnny was, how utterly exhausted he looked and that his face was pale and covered with sweat. "Well, not too bad. They're pumping some...heavy duty drugs into me...look at me...I  look like a...a...pin cushion," Johnny replied softly, then started to cough. Dr. Brackett looked worried and checked his oxygen supply as a nurse came over to take his vitals. Roy put his hand on his partner's shoulder and stood by helplessly. It took every ounce of strength Roy had to keep his eyes from brimming up with tears. Johnny's coughing attack left him beyond exhausted. Roy could see him struggling to stay awake and watched as his lips moved, but only mumbled words came out. He was trying hard to tell Roy something, but the weariness took over finally and he drifted off to sleep. Dr. Brackett led Roy away from Johnny's side, as the nurse checked his vitals and medications again. "Doc, I...I can't believe...how bad he is," Roy started. "Tell me the truth. Is he...is he going to die?" Dr. Brackett hesitated and then sighed. "Roy, honestly, I don't know at this time. It depends on a lot of things. He's on very strong antibiotics so I hope they start taking effect soon. If we can't control that infection and soon, then yes, I'm afraid he will die." Roy looked up at the ceiling. He couldn't stand the thought of losing Johnny, his partner, his best friend, his brother. "Doc, is there anything I can do?" "You may want to try to locate his family. Does he even have any?" "Ah, not in California. Johnny's an only child, I know that his mother and father are both dead, and he has two aunts that live in Montana. But I'm not even sure where, he never spoke of them much, I mean, he doesn't talk about them," Roy replied softly, quickly correcting himself, and fighting off the feeling of shame that was now enveloping him. He should know more about his best friend's family, after working together for six years, he should at least know how to contact them, in the event of an emergency. But he didn't; Johnny always seemed so tight-lipped when the subject of his family was approached that Roy had quickly gotten the feeling that the dark haired paramedic's childhood had been terrible, and he had never pressed Johnny into talking about it. "Oh, that's too bad. But Roy, there is something else you can do." "What, name it - anything." "Say a prayer for him." The nurse was just taking the thermometer out of Johnny's mouth. As she looked at it she read the number out loud to Dr. Brackett. "Doctor, his temperature has gone up to 103." "Dammit!" the doctor swore, feeling angry that the meds were not yet working on his young patient. "You certainly have a knack for testing my medical knowledge and abilities, Johnny." Dr. Brackett doesn't think he's going to make it, Roy thought fearfully to himself and decided that he had better leave the hospital for awhile because he knew he was about to lose it again. Dr. Brackett promised to call him if there were any changes in Johnny's condition and Roy hurriedly left Rampart. The next day as Roy got into work, he called Dixie to see how Johnny was. He was very happy to hear that finally, the medications were taking affect and finally, his partner was showing signs of improvement and recovery. Roy was also very glad that Johnny's replacement was not the much despised paramedic, Craig Brice, but was Bill Johnson, a good man whom Roy worked well with. But, he just wasn't Johnny. Roy struggled to get through the next three shifts, but the fact that his partner was getting better and stronger and would soon be able to return to work, made it that much more tolerable for him. At the end of the shift, Roy drove to Rampart to visit his friend. He was amazed at his recovery and how well he looked. Both Dr. Brackett and Dr. Hibbert were pleased that he was healing so well. A week later, Johnny was well enough to leave Rampart, but he would have to rest at home for yet another two weeks. When Johnny finally went back to work, he was extremely touched that the guys at Station 51 had pitched in and bought a huge 'Welcome Back, Johnny' cake for him. They had even made a banner especially for him as well, and hung it in the kitchen. The young paramedic felt overwhelmed that he had been so missed during his recovery and he was glad to be back. The other men of the station were happy that their young crewmate had recovered and he was safe now, and that the man who had nearly killed him was going to be behind bars for a very long time. But the best part of Gage's first shift back was when, at roll call that morning, Captain Stanley made Chet do all of the young paramedic's assigned station chores for the whole week. Yes, Johnny thought as he relaxed on the sofa with the station mascot, Henry, and watched as Chet willingly and eagerly cleaned the floors and waxed the squad, it's good to be back. The End Editor's note:  This is Mary's first story so please be sure to give her your feedback. return to main menu