The one that had gnawed at the pit of his stomach ever since he woke up.
He heard a footstep.
Roy looked over his shoulder, waiting.
It was just his imagination. Not yet seven-thirty, it was already working overtime. Roy tried to tell himself he was being irrational. He wasn't given to premonitions, and it wasn't like Johnny was late for work, after all.
He was just... missing.
Roy closed his locker door, wondering again where Johnny was. Any other day, the early morning peace and quiet might have been welcomed. Not today. Accustomed to his partner's animated chatter, he found its absence strangely unnerving.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling.
Something was wrong.
The Rover had been parked in its usual spot when he'd driven up. Johnny was almost always the first one to show up for their shift. He had the advantage of living near the station -- and while Roy didn't exactly count it as an advantage, Johnny was able to function on less sleep than the rest of them, so it was a rare shift that he wasn't at work ahead of everyone except Captain Stanley.
If there was one thing DeSoto had learned about Gage in the year that they’d been working together, it was that he was rarely late for anything. Sometimes, Roy thought he knew more about Johnny than he wanted to. The man never stopped talking. His life was like an open book.
Johnny often joined the C-shift crew for coffee, and would shoot the breeze with them until it was time to get changed and ready for roll call. Roy had checked. None of them had seen him since rolling out of their bunks with the wake-up tones at seven.
Roy opened the back bay door and scanned the parking lot again. Still no sign of him. Lopez and Stoker had just pulled in at the same time. Neither had seen or talked to Johnny during their two days off, and since they'd just shown up themselves, had no clue as to his whereabouts. Roy thought maybe Kelly would know. He recalled that Chet and Johnny had planned to go bowling last night.
Roy decided to busy himself with the drug box inventory while he waited for one or both of them to show.
That nagging feeling wouldn’t let go.
The only place he hadn't physically looked was the Captain's office. The door had been closed since he'd come in at seven-fifteen. Hank Stanley was on vacation, so Roy had assumed that Captain Hochrader was in the office, finishing some paperwork before the end of his shift. A-shift hadn't heard who would be filling in for Stanley, but they had all heaved a huge sigh of relief when they'd found out that Hochrader wasn't going to be covering for him. As Roy reached for the compartment door on the squad, he glanced in the direction of the office. The door was still closed.
Preoccupied by his growing uneasiness, Roy literally jumped when he heard Hochrader's voice from behind him.
"Morning, DeSoto."
It was enough to distract him from his thoughts. Even in such a brief salutation, the man managed to sound like a master sergeant. Perhaps it wasn't so much the timbre of his voice, as it was the vivid image of a modern-day slave driver that came to mind whenever they heard it. Nonetheless, Roy pasted on a semi-cheerful smile before turning around to return the greeting.
"Mornin', Cap."
"You been lookin' for Gage this morning?"
Roy stiffened a little and lost the smile. Something told him he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. "As a matter of fact, I have been. You... uh... wouldn't happen to know where he is?"
Hochrader looked uncharacteristically confused for a minute, and scratched the top of his head. It took him so long to begin to talk, Roy pictured himself having to strangle the man for information. Nerves already taut and on edge, he would have done it too, if necessary.
He finally opened his mouth to speak, disregarding the exasperated look in DeSoto’s eyes.
"I was making coffee at o-six-forty-five, when I saw that thing Gage drives go past the window on the way to the parking lot. About twenty-seconds later, a sheriff's car went by, too. Before I had a chance to get out there to see what was going on, the black and white drove off again, with Gage in it. I've been on the phone, trying to see if someone could tell me why they picked him up, but I can't find anyone who seems to know."
"I... I don't understand," said Roy. "You think they arrested him for something?"
"No... no, I don't think so.” Hochrader answered quickly. “It would take a lot longer than that to arrest someone. It looked like he was in the front seat when they drove by again, so I doubt he was a prisoner."
Roy shuddered at the use of the word "prisoner."
A car pulling into the parking lot drew their attention. It was Kelly. He jumped out of his old VW bus, and hurried into the station. Roy's anxiety doubled when he saw the serious expression on Chet's face as he rushed up to them.
"Cap, Roy. I saw John's Rover in the parking lot...." He was breathless, like he'd just run a mile. "Is he here?" Kelly's voice had a distinctly nervous edge to it.
"No, he's not," Roy replied, swallowing hard. That feeling in his stomach was twisting into a huge knot. "Cap here said he saw a sheriff's car follow Johnny into the parking lot, and then they left right away. What do you know about it, Chet?"
Kelly's eyes did a little dance around the room, trying to avoid looking straight at either of the men in front of him.
"Um... not much, really." Chet hesitated, then shook his head. "No, that's not true. I mean... there was a problem last night at the bowling alley, but I thought everything was settled by the time I left around midnight. Johnny called me about six-thirty this morning, but before he could tell me why he was calling, he said he had to answer the door, and that he'd call me back. But, he never did."
"What kind of problem, Kelly?" Hochrader asked.
Chet's eyes flicked to Roy's, seeking some sort of reassurance that everything was all right. He found none.
"Well..., we didn't think too much of it at first, Cap. A couple guys who'd had too much to drink were hasslin' us for a while. The manager made them leave, but they were waiting for us in the parking lot. The more we tried to talk to them and get them to back off, the worse it got.”
Chet shifted uncomfortably on his feet as he recalled what happened next. Drawing a shaky breath in an effort to collect himself before going on, his eyes met Roy's again.
“Roy... you know Johnny... you can only push him so far. I mean, he tried to walk away. He really did..., but they wouldn't let up. It got real ugly and... by the time the cops showed up, things had gotten a little out of hand."
“A little out of hand?” Roy's drawn face was a mask of concern. "How out of hand, Chet?"
"Some punches were thrown. Um... no... it was more than some. A lot. Johnny nailed the one guy real good. Knocked him out cold for a minute, I think. Then the guy's buddy took Johnny down hard and started tryin' to beat the crap out of him. Johnny put up a helluva fight, but... but he... he was a big guy, Roy. John was no match for him. He woulda done some serious damage if someone hadn't seen what was happening and called it in right away. I did the best I could to pull him off Johnny in the meantime, but he shoved me into the side of a car. I didn't black out, but I sure wasn't much help for a while."
"So, was Johnny hurt?" Roy's legendary patience was rapidly wearing thin.
"A little, I guess. I don't know. He had a bloody nose and some cuts on his face, but he refused to let the cops call a squad. Said he was all right, but I... I know the guy got in some hard licks. Johnny's gotta be hurtin'." Chet was still feeling guilty that he hadn't been able to help more, and it showed in his eyes.
Roy saw the look, and calmed down a little. "Chet. How about you? Are you all right? Did you get checked out?"
Chet let out a short, nervous laugh. "Yeah, Gage insisted on making sure I was okay. Did his paramedic number on me, but wouldn't let anyone take a look at him. Roy, I... I'm sorry. I thought everything was okay when I left. Vince was there, and they had the guy in custody. There were plenty of witnesses to back us up... to say that it wasn't our fault. Man, that guy was pissed, though. Good thing he was handcuffed, 'cause he was threatening both of us, but mostly Johnny. He wasn't just drunk, he was mean drunk. Scared the shit out of me, but it didn't seem to faze John. He acted like he'd seen it all before."
"What about the other guy?" Roy inquired. "The one Johnny knocked out?"
"The cops arrested him, too. I don't know for sure if he was ever completely unconscious, or what. He just laid there on the ground and didn't move after Johnny decked him. Man, I thought John broke his hand, he hit him so hard. They got the guy on his feet, but he looked pretty woozy. Johnny checked him out too, and suggested that they run him by the hospital before they booked him. I just... I don't know." He felt drained. Reliving the nightmare had been almost as bad as being there.
Chet looked at the clock. It was almost eight, and they still didn’t know where Johnny had gone.
Whoever was filling in for Stanley hadn't shown up yet, so Hochrader was obligated to stay. He didn't seem to have a problem with it, and for once, Roy and Chet didn't seem to mind that he was there. The captain went to ask one of his paramedics to stay until they figured out where Gage had gone, and when he'd be back.
"Roy... I gotta go get changed real quick." Chet said. "I honestly have no idea if something else happened after I left, or why Johnny called me this morning. I guess the good news is that he must be okay, or he wouldn't have driven here. What I don't understand is why the sheriff's picked him up."
"Yeah, maybe," Roy wasn't convinced, though. "We'll figure it out. You sure you're all right, Chet?"
Chet nodded and gingerly rubbed the back of his head, feeling the slightly tender lump that was still there. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, Roy. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay. Won't it?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it will." Roy's troubled eyes didn't carry the conviction of his words. "Go ahead and get changed. I'll see if the captain can try again to find out what's going on."
Chet walked off toward the locker room, with his head down, looking as miserable as he felt. Roy stood alone for a moment, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. He heard the phone ring, followed by Hochrader's voice. He hurried to the day room to see if the call had anything to do with Johnny.
"I understand. Yes, sir. No, I can stay. It's not a problem." Hochrader hung up the phone. "Sorry, DeSoto. That wasn't about Gage. Stanley's replacement was involved in a minor fender bender on the way in this morning. I guess he won't be coming in, though, so I'll be staying."
Roy was disappointed it hadn't been the news he was hoping to hear. Lines of worry creased his forehead. By now, the others knew something was up, and waited to be filled in on the details.
Hochrader assumed command of the shift. "Look, DeSoto. The rest of you. We need to get this shift underway. Ryan has agreed to stay until we hear something from Gage. As soon as Kelly joins us, I'll explain what little I know, and then you'll get busy while I try to find out what's going on." Hochrader tilted his head toward the apparatus bay, indicating it was time to get down to fire station business. "All right, men, let's look sharp."
Roy was the last to leave the room. Hochrader stopped him in the doorway for a second, hesitantly resting a hand on Roy's arm. "We'll get to the bottom of it. I'm sure there's a logical explanation for all this."
For the first time, Roy saw the man behind the tough exterior. His concern was obvious. Even so, Roy wished Hank Stanley was there instead.
"Thanks, Cap. I'm sure you're right." Roy said quietly, then joined the others in the lineup, donning the hat that Stoker handed him.
Hochrader dispensed the day's duties, and was in the process of informing the rest of the crew what he knew of the situation with Gage, when the phone rang again. While he went to answer it, the others questioned Chet, and Roy waited anxiously to see if this call was about Johnny.
The captain reappeared in the office doorway, and motioned for Roy to join him. "That was Rampart. Gage is there in the emergency room. From what the nurse said, he's all right, but Dr. Brackett wants to see you right away. Why don't you and Ryan get over there. I'll let dispatch know the squad will be out of service for the next hour. Call me if you need more time."
His sentence was barely completed before Roy was at the squad’s door. "Josh, let's go!" he called sharply. He was in the driver's seat with the engine running by the time Ryan climbed in. Roy rolled down the window and started to pull out, pausing just long enough to thank Hochrader again, and to let him know he'd be calling as soon as he knew anything.
* * * * * *
As he came around the corner at full tilt, Roy spotted Vince Howard standing outside the door to one of the treatment rooms, talking with Dixie McCall. Josh Ryan, new to 51s C-shift, and not at all sure what was going on, trailed uncertainly behind Roy.
"Vince, are you the one that picked Johnny up this morning? What's going on? Chet told us what happened last night, but he said everything was under control when he left. Where's Johnny?" Roy knew he was asking too many questions at once, but he couldn't help himself. "Is he in there?" He started for the door, but Vince stretched his arm across it to keep Roy from going in.
Roy was startled at first, then became more determined than ever to get into the room. There was no doubt in his mind that Johnny was in there.
"I can't let you go in there just yet, Roy." Vince assumed an air of authority, one usually reserved for official situations. The look in his eyes told Roy that he was sorry to have to keep him out, but his posture remained tense. He wasn't going to yield, even for a friend.
Dixie quickly put herself between the deputy and Roy before he did something he'd regret. "Roy, listen to me. Johnny's all right. Kel is in there with him right now. I'm sure you can see him in a few minutes."
She and Roy both looked at Vince for confirmation. He nodded, keeping his arm in place. Orders were orders.
Grabbing Roy firmly by the elbow, Dixie pulled him away, but his eyes remained locked on the door. "Roy?” She finally got his attention. “Dr. Brackett needs to talk to you before you see Johnny. He wants you to wait in his office. I'll let him know you're here. It should just be a few minutes."
"Why can't I see him now, Dix?” he protested. “If he's all right, like you say... what's the problem?"
Not letting go of her grip on his arm, Dixie walked Roy the short distance to Brackett’s office. “I know it’s hard to wait, Roy. I’m sure Kel will answer all your questions.” She opened the door and ushered him in. “Josh looked a little lost out there. I’m gonna go buy him a cup of coffee and get to know him a little better, while you.... Sit.”
Roy knew he didn’t have a choice, and did as instructed... for about thirty seconds after she left. He got up and began pacing.
True to Dixie’s word, though, Brackett appeared a few minutes later, along with Vince Howard. Tension crackled in the air. Brackett looked at Vince first, then asked Roy to sit down. The doctor settled in his own chair behind the desk. Roy hesitated, but sat down. Vince moved away from the door to stand to one side of the room.
“Doc....”
Brackett held his hand up to stop the questions before they started. “Roy, how much do you know about what happened last night?”
“Just what Chet told us. A couple of guys jumped them in a parking lot and someone called the cops.... He said before they got there, Johnny hit one of the guys, and the other one tackled Johnny and started punching him. Doc, come on, I’m goin’ crazy here. How bad is Johnny hurt?”
“Roy, you can relax. It’s not that bad.” Brackett started the rundown. “In addition to a black eye and a split-lip and a few other cuts and bruises on his face, he’s got a badly sprained hand and wrist. His torso is covered with bruises, too. I think he’d know if he had any broken ribs, but we’ve taken some X-rays just to rule that out. There’s some guarding and tenderness in his lower back. A urine sample showed a trace of blood, so it’s possible he’s got at least one bruised kidney. All in all, it doesn’t look too serious. He’s just gonna be stiff and mighty sore for a while.”
Roy visibly winced at the thought of how badly it must have hurt. The kidneys were the body’s best protected organs. It would have taken an extremely hard blow to injure them. He willed himself to relax outwardly, but the knot in his stomach refused to loosen up. None of what Brackett had said explained why Vince was here, or why he couldn’t see Johnny at the moment.
Trying to organize the many questions rushing through his mind, Roy asked the obvious first, “Are you going to admit him?”
Brackett shook his head. “No, I don’t see the need for that. We’ll most likely send him home with a mild painkiller and have him take it easy for a while. I understand your shift is off for four days after today, but I’m not so sure John will be ready to go back to work even then. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“How did Johnny think he was gonna work today?” Roy asked.
Brackett looked puzzled by the question. “What do you mean?”
“His car’s in the parking lot at work. Captain Hochrader said he saw him drive up a little before seven.”
Vince cleared his throat and stepped a little closer to offer an explanation. “I think I can answer that. I went to John’s apartment this morning to pick him up, and he asked me if he could drive over to the station on his own to talk to Captain Stanley first... to tell him in person what happened.”
“Captain Stanley’s not there,” Roy said tersely. “He’s on vacation.”
“I guess John remembered that as soon as he pulled into the parking lot, so he left his car there and came with me. He said no one else from your shift was there yet, and he didn’t want to talk to Captain Hochrader.”
“Vince, why did you go to pick him up? I don’t understand. He isn’t under arrest or anything, is he? I mean... Johnny is the victim here, right?”
Roy didn’t miss the cautious look that passed between Vince and Brackett before the deputy answered him. “No, he’s not under arrest, Roy. The detective assigned to the case just wanted to ask him some questions.”
“Why here?” Roy asked pointedly. “Why not at headquarters?”
After a moment's hesitation and another glance at Brackett, Vince was about to answer. There was a knock on the door. A tall, thin man in his forties, dressed in a plain gray suit and a nondescript blue tie entered the room. With a barely perceptible tilt of the head, he dismissed the deputy. He waited until Vince left, then addressed the doctor.
"Dr. Brackett, I'm finished with Gage, for now. Miss McCall asked me to let you know that his X-ray results came back negative."
Brackett wasn't surprised, yet seemed relieved. Relief quickly reverted to concern again. Roy was waiting for answers.
"Detective Tucker, I'd like you to meet Roy DeSoto, John Gage's partner."
The man held out his hand. "DeSoto. Jack Tucker, Homicide Division."
Sucker punches have a way of stealing your breath.
Tucker dropped his hand when it became apparent DeSoto wasn't going to extend his in return.
"You haven't told him yet?" he asked, taking in Roy's shocked expression
Kelly Brackett shook his head. "No. We were just about to when you knocked."
"Tell me what, Dr. Brackett?" Roy barely got the question out. He was still trying to find a way to breathe, let alone talk. "What's going on?"
Detective Tucker sat in the chair next to Roy, his close proximity only adding to Roy's nervousness. Brackett leaned forward in his chair, ready to explain.
“The man that Johnny hit... his name was Frank Palmer... Mr. Palmer died about five o’clock this morning.” Brackett paused to allow Roy time to absorb the implications. “We’ll have to wait for the official autopsy report, but all indications are that he experienced a ruptured cerebral aneurysm, most likely resulting from the head trauma. We’d kept him here overnight for observation. Except for complaining of a headache, he was basically asymptomatic. As you know, the onset is sudden, and by the time the nurse went in to do a routine neuro check on him, it was too late. The hemorrhaging was too extensive.”
Roy struggled to speak. “You mean Johnny...?” He couldn’t finish the sentence out loud.
“We don’t know anything for certain yet. The man could have had a pre-existing condition. We won’t know that until we get the coroner’s report. We’re also trying to get the man’s medical history from his family. It’s possible that it would have happened anyway, and that the blow to the head simply facilitated it.”
“Or, it’s possible that... that Johnny killed him?”
There. He’d said it. Roy wished he hadn’t.
Kelly Brackett looked at Jack Tucker, who had remained silent, waiting for Roy to come to terms with the situation.
“Mr. DeSoto..., there were at least a dozen witnesses last night, all of whom agreed to come in and give sworn statements on behalf of Mr. Gage and Mr. Kelly. We still need to talk to Mr. Kelly again, but from what the initial reports from the scene indicate, and based on the statement Mr. Gage just gave, we believe he was acting purely in self-defense.”
“So, you’re not going to arrest him?” Roy asked, relief flooding his voice.
“No, there doesn’t appear to be any reason for that at this time. Of course, it depends on the final outcome of the investigation and the medical reports, but my initial impression is that this will be ruled an accidental homicide, and there’ll be no repercussions. Mr. Gage has a clean record, and his personnel file with the fire department indicates an exemplary employment history for the last five years. Unless there's something we haven't turned up, I'd say he seems to be in the clear.”
Detective Tucker stood up to go. He shook Dr. Brackett’s hand, and thanked him for his cooperation, and told him he’d be in touch. Turning back to Roy, he apologized. “I’m sorry you had to hear it this way. I really don’t think Mr. Gage has anything to worry about.”
Waiting until the detective left the room, Roy anxiously turned to Brackett. “Doc, how’s Johnny taking this?”
Brackett toyed with a pencil in his hand, thinking his answer over carefully.
“Dr. Brackett?”
“You know, Roy, I’d like to be able to tell you he’s taking it really hard.... I know that sounds kind of strange, but... that would be the expected reaction. To be honest with you, I can’t tell how he’s taking it. Other than going over the details of the incident with the detective, he hasn’t said a word about it. He’s been quiet and cooperative, and surprisingly calm.”
“Maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet. I know I’m still having a hard time believing it. Do you think I can see him now?”
Roy and Brackett stood up at the same time and walked toward the door. “Roy, will you be giving John a ride back to the station to pick up his car? He needs to go home and take it easy, get some rest.” Brackett held the door open for Roy. “He looks like he hasn’t slept in a while.”
“Yeah, that’s not a problem. I’ll see that he gets home. Do you think I could have a few minutes alone with him first? I want to talk to him and make sure he’s okay. I mean.... You know what I mean....”
A voice over the loudspeaker in the hallway paged Kelly Brackett to the lab. “I gotta go, Roy. Johnny’s in Treatment 4. Tell him I want to see him back here in three days, but to call me or come in if any problems develop in the meantime. And remind him I said to take it easy.”
“I’ll do that, Dr. Brackett. And... and, thanks.”
Brackett’s features softened and reflected his concern. “Keep an eye on him, Roy. He’s acting pretty detached right now, but something tells me he’s going to need a friend before this is all over.” Brackett started to say something else, but a second page had him hurrying down the hall.
Roy slowly pushed the door open, and saw Johnny sitting on the exam table, dressed and ready to go, talking to Dixie. They both looked up when he came in, and Dixie made it point to excuse herself right away. She hesitated at the door.
“Johnny, you take care of yourself. And, Roy..., Josh is in the lounge waiting for you.”
“What?”
“Josh. In the lounge. Don’t forget to take him with you when you leave.”
“Oh. Right.” Roy probably would have forgotten if she hadn’t reminded him. “Thanks, Dix.”
Roy knew he was making Johnny uncomfortable, but couldn’t help checking out the damage his partner had sustained the previous night. Johnny was as pale as Roy had ever seen him. The bruises and cuts stood out even more because of it. He looked worn out, and didn’t say a word.
Roy broke the awkward silence. “That shiner’s a real beaut.... gonna be a while before it fades away.”
Johnny touched a fingertip to his cheek. “Yeah, I suppose so.” He slid off the table with a groan. “Can you give me a lift back to the station? I need to get the Rover and go home and get some sleep.”
“Johnny....”
“Roy, I... I really don’t wanna talk about it now. I’m tired. I’d just like to go. Please.”
Sandwiched between the two silent men on the short ride back to the station, Josh was beginning to wish he hadn’t been so eager to volunteer to work another shift. He figured keeping his mouth shut was the best course of action. The engine was out on a run when they arrived in quarters. Johnny got out first, and Josh followed, then headed straight for the dorm to start changing sheets on the bunks. Roy sat in the squad, his hands still clenching the steering wheel, deep in thought.
“Roy?” Johnny was leaning on the passenger door frame with his head poked through the open window.
Roy sighed and looked at him.
“Does Chet know?”
“I don’t think so... at least he didn’t when I left. He was pretty worried about you.”
“Good ole’ Chet.” Johnny said softly. “You know, Roy... he... he probably saved my life last night. Tell him I’m okay, will you? Tell him to give me a day or two, and I’ll call him. I just... I don’t wanna talk about it for a while.”
“Johnny, I....” Roy hesitated, then acquiesced. “I’ll tell him.”
Talking was the last thing Johnny wanted to do right now. He did his best to reassure his worried partner.
“I’m fine, Roy. Really. I just need to get some sleep. Just give me... give me some time. I’ll call you at home tomorrow.”
“All right, Johnny. Take all the time you need.”
Roy knew he wouldn’t hear from him.
* * * * * *
He'd been standing outside the door to Johnny’s apartment for five minutes. He rang the bell again. Roy could hear the TV on, and had seen the Rover parked outside. Johnny hadn’t answered his phone and wasn’t answering the door. Worried, Roy was about to go ask the landlord to let him in, when Johnny finally opened the door.
He looked on the brink of exhaustion. His rumpled clothes were the same ones he'd been wearing when Roy last saw him, his hair was a mess, and he needed a shave. Roy couldn’t tell where the dark circles under Johnny’s eyes ended and the bruises began. Johnny left the door open, and without saying a word, went back into the living room, sinking stiffly onto the couch.
Roy walked in and closed the door quietly behind him. The windows and blinds were closed and the apartment was stuffy and dark. There was a pillow and blanket on the couch. Roy assumed that was where Johnny had spent the night, but he didn’t look like he’d gotten any sleep. Roy moved a few things out of the way and sat down on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
“Johnny, it’s eight-thirty in the morning.”
Expressionless eyes slowly shifted to the clock on the wall and back to Roy.
“So it is.”
“You’re drunk.”
“That I am.”
“You’re gonna regret it later.”
“That I will.”
“You’re not feelin’ any pain right now, are you?”
“Not a bit, Roy. Not feelin’ a thing. ‘S great.”
“You’re not gonna be feelin’ so great in a little while. You look pretty bad, Johnny. Why don’t you go take a long, hot shower, and change into some clean clothes. I’ll put on a pot of coffee and see what you have around here to eat.”
“Yeah. I can tell. If you were any more fine, you’d fall on your face.”
Johnny looked at Roy for a long minute, his eyes darkly serious.
“I killed a man, Roy.”
“Johnny, it was an accident.”
“Doesn’t make ‘im any less dead.... Does it?”
“No. No, it doesn’t.”
Johnny frowned at Roy, while he mulled it over.
“Shit. I was.... kinda hopin’ you’d tell me otherwise.”
Roy stood up and offered his hand to help Johnny off the couch. “Go take a shower,” he ordered gently. “We’ll talk when you’re done.”
Johnny stumbled off toward the bathroom, and Roy headed to the kitchen to make coffee, taking along the almost-empty bottle of Tequila that had been sitting on the coffee table. Tempted to dump the rest of it down the drain, he instead screwed the lid on tight and stuck it in a cupboard. In Johnny’s shoes, he thought he might have done the same thing.
The coffee was ready and the eggs were scrambled by the time Johnny reappeared thirty-minutes later. His hair was still damp and he’d put on running shorts and a clean T-shirt. Roy didn’t blame him for not shaving. His hands were none too steady, and he might have added a few more nicks to his already cut and bruised face if he'd tried. Johnny had removed the Ace bandage, and Roy got his first good look at the skinned knuckles and swollen hand.
“Lethal weapon.” Johnny said without emotion.
He managed to pour himself a cup of coffee without spilling too much; he took one look at the eggs and turned a pale shade of green. Feeling a little shaky, Johnny went back to the living room with the coffee, and lowered himself onto the couch again. With some effort, he managed to put his feet up on the coffee table.
Roy joined him a few minutes later and placed an ice-pack around Johnny’s wrist, then sat in the chair next to the couch. He turned the TV off so they could talk. Johnny was in a daze, and didn’t seem to notice.
“Detective Tucker came by the station last night to talk to Chet.” Roy thought Johnny would want to know, even though he didn’t seem to be focusing very well at the moment.
“He said that the guy that did this to you has been arrested before. Most of the charges have been for assault and battery. He even had one assault with a deadly weapon charge that had been dropped when the victim refused to testify against him. Tucker seemed to think the DA will be able to put him away for a while this time, with your testimony.”
“I’m no better ‘n him.”
“Johnny, listen to me. Don't do this to yourself. It wasn’t your fault. Those two chose to start the fight. Chet said you did everything you could to avoid it. There’s a dozen witnesses that will say the same thing.”
“I din... didn’t have to hit him so hard. Lost my temper. And, I hit ‘im.”
“You were just defending yourself. Chet said he hit you first.”
“First, last. Doesn’t matter. He’s dead.”
“Would you be happier if you were dead instead? It could have happened that way, you know.”
Johnny closed his eyes and laid his head back. The throbbing behind his eyes was beginning to reassert itself with a vengeance. The rest of his aches and pains would make their presence known again soon, too.
Too soon.
“What’d you do with the bottle, Roy?” He didn’t have the strength to raise his head to ask the question, let alone raise a bottle to his lips.
“I put it away. It’s not gonna help. You’ll just feel worse. It... it doesn’t solve anything, you know.”
“Well, maybe not where you come from, but where I come from, it’s the way it’s done. If you make things go away long enough, sometimes you can forget them forever.”
“Johnny, I know you, and....”
"And what?" Johnny opened his eyes and turned his head sideways to look at the man sitting in the chair next to him. “You don’t know me, Roy,” he said scornfully, his eyes suddenly black with anger. “Hell, we’ve only known each other a year. You don’t know anything.”
Roy knew it was the stress and the alcohol talking, but wasn't sure who the anger was meant for. Johnny was right. There was a lot he didn't know about him. Roy wasn't one to pry, and Johnny wasn't one to open up easily about his past. He'd allowed glimpses, nothing more.
It was like looking at the moon. People tend to forget there’s a dark side. They only see the light. They only see what they want to see, and look no further.
Roy remembered something Chet had said yesterday morning. Johnny hadn’t been fazed by what happened. He’d acted like he’d seen it all before.
Maybe you’re right, Johnny. Maybe... I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.
Johnny’s eyes were closed again, and Roy could tell by the change in the sound of his breathing that much-needed sleep was about to claim him. He picked up the icepack and took the coffee cup from Johnny’s other hand. He pulled the blanket over him.
“Roy? ‘m sorry,” Johnny mumbled sleepily.
“No, Johnny. I’m the one that’s sorry. Maybe one of these days, you can tell me what it’s like where you come from. You can tell me... about yourself.”
Underneath the dark shadow of his whiskers and the bruises on his face, Johnny looked far younger than his twenty-three years, but Roy suspected that deep down, Johnny was older than he was.
Editor's Note: After a lot of debate, we decided to post this even though we felt that this was an Alternate Universe story. Something this website does not encourage submittals of since we try to stick to canon.
Well, after reading it and seeing quite clearly the excellent usage of the E! characters, the quality of writing... and thinking about the "what if?" possibilities delved into.... How could we Not post it?
