EMERGENCY! Stories -- Missed Signals

"MISSED SIGNALS"
BY NanM

Keeping the covers pulled over his head and his eyes closed, Roy turned over in his bunk, listening in the darkness to the sounds of the dorm. It was quieter than normal. Not so much as a soft snore or a rustle of a sheet. Just the slow, steady breathing of his shift mates. Back late from a long, exhausting rescue, sleep had come as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

For most of the crew anyway.

He could hear the gentle patter of the late February rain falling on the pavement outside the window… far different from the downpour that had started in the afternoon the day before and continued on through the evening. It had been raining steadily for the last six days… sometimes light and misty, sometimes hard and driving. Six days of somber gray skies and unrelenting clouds. These last two shifts had been miserable. Wet. Windy. Mud. Mud everywhere. And, cold. The kind of cold that seeps into your bones and doesn’t let go.

The only good news was a promised break in the weather that coincided with their two days off. Two days to dry out and warm up. Two days to get over the edginess that always seemed to accompany long periods of dark and gloomy weather. But then, they would have to come back to work and do it all over again. One Arctic storm system after another was rolling down the coast from Alaska, bringing with it nighttime temperatures that were close to freezing and daytime highs only in the 40s.

And more rain.

Used to sunshine ten months out of the year, Southern Californians weren’t very well prepared to cope with such a radical departure from the norm. Except for those who lived in the mountain communities, not many people owned heavy coats or hats or gloves, and rain boots were virtually unheard of. They might have been practical, but certainly not fashionable. Umbrellas buried in closets saw the light of day once again. Furnaces ran nonstop. The rest of the country, used to winter blizzards, laughed at their complaints about the weather, but it was no laughing matter for the members of the LA County Fire Department.

When the first rains came, the water, mixed with months of oil buildup on the surface of the asphalt, made roads as slippery and treacherous as if they were covered with a sheet of ice. People didn’t seem to understand that they needed to drive differently when it rained. High speeds, tailgating, weaving in and out of traffic -- all spelled disaster on a daily basis. 51s had responded to five serious accidents with major injuries during the last two shifts. They’d lost count of the more minor responses.

He heard the shower go on in the locker room, and inched the covers down just below his eyes. Gage’s bunk was empty, except for the extra blankets Roy had gotten before crawling under his own warm covers and drawing them tightly over his head. Roy hadn’t been able to keep his eyes open long enough last night to see if his partner had made it to the dorm, and wondered now if Johnny had gotten any sleep at all. No picnic for any of the men on the scene, last night’s run had been rougher on Johnny than the rest of them, and he was no doubt still trying to find a way to warm up.

Two ten-year old boys had thought it would be cool to sneak out of their houses to check out a nearby swollen flood control channel, and almost lost their lives when they underestimated how quickly the water was rising and how fast it was flowing. Johnny had only been in the frigid, rushing water for about two minutes, but that was more than enough time to begin to experience the initial stages of hypothermia. He’d also banged his shoulder against the side of the concrete channel while being hauled out with one of the boys in his arms. The damage was apparently minimal, other than some bruising and stiffness that had set in by the time they’d returned to the station. Even after a long, hot shower, dry clothes and some warm milk, he had continued to shiver from the aching chill set deep in his bones.

All in all, it hadn’t been a good month for Johnny. He’d already missed two shifts due to a slight concussion suffered when an old furnace exploded during an apartment fire, and he’d been plagued by headaches for a while after that. On his own time, he’d twisted an ankle while helping a friend of his move, when he jumped out of the back of a moving van and lost his balance.

And now this.

Roy yawned and peered at his watch to check the time. Five AM. Still a few hours before the wake-up tones sounded. He listened. The rain had stopped. Sleep overtook him again, and he didn’t even hear the shower go off or see Johnny come back and curl up under the pile of blankets, hugging them close, still shivering.

* * * * * * * *

“Shut-up, Chet.”

Johnny was leaning back in a chair with his legs crossed at the ankles, resting them on top of the table in the day room, his eyes half closed and his hands wrapped around a cup of coffee in his lap. He’d slept for most of his two days off, but was still tired and in no mood for pointless conversation.

“Geez, Gage. I didn’t even say anything.”

Kelly shot an innocent glance in Stoker’s direction, then shrugged his shoulders and went to the stove to pour some coffee for himself. He turned around and leaned back against the counter, taking a sip from the mug. “I was gonna be nice and tell you that Cap’s coming and you might wanna get your feet off the table before he sees you… but… it’s a little late for that now.” Chet hid his grin by raising the coffee cup to his lips again.

Johnny could feel Captain Stanley’s presence behind him, and without a word, slowly removed one leg at a time from the table, then stretched them out in front of him again -- under the table. Announcing it was time for roll call, Stanley gave Johnny a friendly slap on the back, causing him to lurch forward and almost spill his coffee on his pant legs.

“Hey, pal. Sorry. That shoulder still bothering you?” Stanley asked, concerned by the reaction.

Johnny blinked his eyes and flexed his shoulder, surprised that it had hurt that much. Roy had just walked in and was looking at him, waiting for his answer.

“No, it’s not the shoulder, Cap.” Johnny’s voice was scratchy and nasally sounding. “That’s doin’ fine. Just caught a cold the other day, and I guess my muscles are still a little achy is all.”

Chet walked past them on the way to the bay for roll call. “Well, I’m sorry you’re not feelin’ well, Gage. But do us all a favor and keep your germs to yourself, okay? I don’t wanna get sick.” Chet dodged his Captain’s frown and slinked from the room. Mike folded the newspaper and slid his chair back, then got up and followed behind him, not quite hiding the amused smile on his face.

“Always said you were all heart, Chet,” Johnny mumbled under his breath as he stood up. Stanley and Roy already had their backs to him and didn’t see him close his eyes and grab onto the edge of the table for a moment. The dizziness passed as quickly as it had come, and Johnny joined the others, ready to hear their rainy day assignments.

“… Roy and John, with this rain starting again, I want you to make sure the squad has extra supplies.” Stanley’s voice sounded vaguely distant to Johnny. “C-shift was pretty busy last night and may not have been able to restock.” He shook his head. “You’d think people would have it figured out by now, wouldn’t you?” He dismissed the crew and they went their separate ways to get their shift duties underway.

While Roy did the morning biophone check with the Rampart base station, Johnny pulled the drug and trauma boxes from the side compartments, and set them on the floor beside the squad. He crouched down and flipped open the drug box first and began taking inventory.

“Johnny?”

He looked up and saw Roy crouched down too, staring at him. He hadn’t even heard Roy finish the calibration or put the scope and the biophone away.

“What?”

“You sure you’re feelin’ all right? You looked about a million miles away just now.” Roy thought Johnny looked pale and more than a little tired.

“Yeah… yeah, it’s just this dumb cold. I don’t feel as bad today as I did the last two days though. I mostly stayed in bed or laid on the couch under a bunch of blankets watching TV when I wasn’t asleep. My landlady kept me supplied with homemade chicken noodle soup. Man, I didn’t think I was ever going to get warm again.” Johnny grinned when he recalled her surefire cure for what ailed him. “She makes a pretty mean hot toddy too....” An old family recipe guaranteed to warm you from the inside out, she’d said. It did the trick, all right. “… I went from shivering to sweating in a matter of minutes.”

Roy laughed and asked if she ever shared the recipe, but their smiles faded when they heard the wind gusts rattle the doors and felt the cold, damp air sweep through the apparatus bay.

The rain came down a little harder.

Sighing heavily at the thought that he’d slept through two rain-free days, Johnny zipped his jacket up more and turned his attention back to the drug box, quickly finishing the inventory. “Looks like we could use a few things. Maybe we should get over to Rampart now… something tells me we’re gonna be busy again today.” He rubbed his forehead, hoping it wasn’t another headache coming on.

While Johnny closed the lid, Roy latched up the trauma box and stood up and stowed it in its spot in the compartment, then turned to take the drug box to do the same with it. Johnny was standing, holding it in his right hand, his left hand braced against the side of the squad, with an odd look in his eyes.

Roy thought Johnny was going to pass out, and grabbed him by his right arm to steady him. The drug box slipped from his grasp and dropped to the floor. The dizzy spell was more intense this time, but vanished quickly again.

“I’m okay, Roy. You can let go of me now.” Johnny shrugged his arm loose. “I… I just stood up too fast.”

Roy eyed him suspiciously. “Uh-huh. You know, if you’re still sick, you shouldn’t be here. Being out in the rain and cold weather is only going to make you feel worse.”

Johnny shook his head in disagreement. “I told you.... I feel a lot better today. Besides, no one’s gonna want to come in to relieve me on a day like this. I sure wouldn’t. We’ve got four days off after this shift, and I’ll get over it then.... It’s just a cold, Roy.”

“All right, if you say so.” He wasn’t going to get into a drawn-out discussion over it. “I’m gonna let Cap know we’re going to Rampart.” Roy poked his head into the office to let Stanley know they were headed out, then came back and slid behind the wheel of the squad. He glanced over at Johnny as he turned the key in the ignition.

Roy couldn't put his finger on it, but he still thought something was wrong.

* * * * * * * *

“Hey, Dix!” They’d helped themselves to the supplies they needed and were filling out the signature forms when she walked up.

“Guys.” Dixie dropped a chart down on the counter and went to pour a cup of coffee while it was still fresh.

"Seems kinda quiet in here this morning..." Johnny observed, looking down the virtually deserted hallway. "Where is ev...."

"Bite your tongue, young man!" Dixie put her hands on her hips and silenced him with one of those looks. "You think a fire station is the only place where you can jinx the day by saying something like that?"

"Sorry," Johnny mumbled apologetically, "I forgot."

Dixie brandished her pen in front of his face and muttered right back, "Yeah, well if it gets busy, it's gonna be all your fault you know."

Laughing to herself at the hangdog look on his face, Dixie decided to let Johnny off the hook for now. He didn't look like he was feeling all that great. "Well, since you already brought it up, I'm counting on you guys to keep it that way for a while.We're kind of hoping since it's Saturday, everyone will just stay home and watch TV and not venture out in the rain. Between this new flu bug going around and all the TA victims in here lately, we're running out of beds." She flashed another warning look Johnny's way, but discreetly winked at Roy.

Roy laid the HT on the desk while he signed the form and handed it to her. “We’d love to oblige you, believe me. It wouldn’t break my heart if we had to stay at the station all day. Somethin’ tells me that’s not gonna happen, though.”

Johnny sneezed twice. Dixie handed him a tissue. “Caught a little cold, did you?” She had been on duty the other night when they’d brought the two boys in and wasn’t surprised to find that Johnny had gotten sick. He’d looked like a drowned rat. They had almost kept him overnight too, but he’d insisted that all he needed was a hot shower and a few cups of coffee.

“Roy, why don’t you take your friend here into Treatment 2? Dr. Morton’s in there and maybe he can take a peek down his throat and make sure it doesn’t look as bad as it sounds.” Dixie had such a unique way of making an order sound like nothing more than a pleasant suggestion.

Johnny opened his mouth to protest, but knew he wouldn’t win. Not with these two. He wasn’t sure he wanted to win today anyway. Not only did his throat bother him, but his ears did too. He thought maybe a mild decongestant to unplug his sinuses wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Morton glanced up when they entered the room. He looked tired. A number of the staff had been out sick and he’d pulled an extremely busy double shift, napping only for a few minutes on the couch in the doctor’s lounge between handling emergencies and seeing flu patients. Finishing with the chart he was working on, he invited Johnny to take off his jacket and hop up on the exam table. Pushing his glasses back up on his nose, Mike took a tongue depressor from the container and looked down Johnny’s throat.

“Um-hmm.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. He hated it when doctors did that.

Roy leaned a shoulder against the wall, arms folded, with a smile on his face.

Johnny hated it when Roy did that too.

“Throat looks a little red.” Morton motioned to the table behind him. “Roy, why don’t you get one of those thermometers over there and stick in under his tongue while I check his ears?”

“Hey, I’m not running a fever.” Johnny did protest this time. “Don’t you think I’d know if I had a fever? Look, all I have is a dumb....”

Roy shoved the thermometer in Johnny’s mouth and pushed up on the bottom of his chin. Johnny glared at him, but kept his mouth closed.

“Um-hmm.”

Morton checked the right ear, then the left ear, then the right ear again.

“Looks like you’ve got a mild infection going in your throat and both ears. The right one looks a little more inflamed than the left.” Morton handed the thermometer to Roy for a reading, then pulled out another depressor and looked down Johnny’s throat one more time.

“His temperature seems to be normal,” Roy announced, blowing off the smirking ‘see, I told you’ look Johnny gave him. "About the only thing that is...." Roy smiled, pleased with his little comeback.

Morton stood back and rested his chin in his hand while he thought about his diagnosis. “Any other symptoms? Nausea, headache, dizziness?”

Before Johnny could get the word ‘no’ out of his mouth, Roy mentioned that it appeared to him that Johnny had almost passed out earlier this morning.

Johnny’s look told Roy he was more than a little peeved that he’d brought that up. “I told Roy… I just stood up too fast. It was no big deal. Just lasted a second or two.”

The doctor nodded in agreement. “Given that you have a mild inner ear infection, that wouldn’t be unusual. However, if you start experiencing any of those symptoms or you start running a fever, you should probably go home. Otherwise I don’t see any reason why you can’t stay on duty today.”

Johnny wheezed a congested sigh of relief.

Dr. Morton opened one of the cabinet doors, and after picking up and putting down a few different things, handed Johnny two small bottles. “I don’t think you’ve got this viral infection that’s going around, or you’d be running a fever. You probably just picked this up from your little swim in the river the other night. I’m giving you a decongestant… it won’t make you drowsy, so it’ll be safe to take it right away. And… I don’t remember… are you allergic to penicillin, John?”

Johnny shook his head and looked apprehensive. If he was going to need a shot, he wanted Dixie or one of the other nurses to do it. The last time Morton gave him an injection, it had hurt like hell.

“Okay, then.... I’m just going to give it to you in tablet form today. Between the two medications, you should be feeling fine in no time.” Morton took off his glasses and tiredly squeezed the bridge of his nose. “If that’s all gentlemen, I think I’m going to go home now and sleep for the next twenty-four hours.”

“Hey, thanks Mike.” Johnny slid down off the table and pulled his jacket on again, mentally sympathizing with the doctor. He thought maybe the emergency room staff were the only people who got less sleep than firefighters.

“Yeah, thanks.” Roy echoed as they left the room. “We’ll see you later. Get some rest.”

Roy handed Johnny the HT and picked up the box of supplies they’d left at the nurse’s station, tucking it securely under his arm as they walked down the hallway. They turned the corner and stopped for a moment before going through the double doors.

“Man, I hate the rain.” Johnny muttered under his breath, then made a dash for the passenger-side door.

Maybe because it was Saturday and people did stay home like Dixie hoped, or maybe because they just figured out how to drive more safely in the rain, Station 51 ended up having a surprisingly quiet day. Both paramedics were glad their predictions of a busy shift hadn’t materialized. They all played cards and watched TV and enjoyed the uninterrupted fried chicken dinner Stoker fixed that evening. Johnny was feeling a little run-down by the time the lights went out, but his ears and sinuses had unclogged a bit, thanks to the decongestant, and his throat didn’t bother him as much. His headache was more like a minor annoyance, and there had been no more dizzy spells.

He’d never admit it to Roy, but Johnny was glad he’d let Morton take a look at him.

* * * * * * * *

It was Thursday morning and the sun was shining brightly. It had stopped raining on Tuesday, but today was the first day the clouds had completely disappeared and blue skies prevailed. The air was still chilly and breezy, but as long as they stayed dry, no one was planning to complain. Sunny weather brought sunny dispositions, and everyone on A-shift was in a good mood as they gathered in the rec room for coffee and donuts before relieving the C-shift crew.

“John, how ya feelin’, pal?” Stanley asked, after swallowing the last bite of his coffee-soaked glazed twist.

“Doin’ good, Cap. Took a couple more days of takin’ it easy to get over the cold, but I feel great now.” Johnny’s fingers rummaged around in the donut box, looking for a jelly-filled one. He looked up in time to see Chet smile and take a bite out of the last one. Johnny thought maybe he should bring the donuts next time. That way he’d be sure to get enough of the kinds he liked best.

An hour into the shift, multiple tones sounded for a structure fire. Not a good thing, but at least it wasn’t another traffic accident. They were firefighters after all.

Smoke and flames were showing from the second and third story windows of an old, rundown hotel, whose occupants were just one short step away from living on the street. Maybe after today they would be. A portable propane cooking stove in one of the upstairs rooms had exploded and the whole floor had quickly gone up in flames like a tinderbox. By the time 51s arrived on the scene, the hotel manager had accounted for all but two of the residents. Both lived on the third floor.

After checking in with the BC that had arrived just ahead of them, Stanley directed Lopez and Kelly to the second floor with an inch-and-a-half, and told DeSoto and Gage they were to start their search for the missing men on the third floor. Other crews were already inside working on putting out the fire.

The narrow stairwell was clear of flames and debris, but densely packed with smoke. Roy and Johnny carefully made their way up the stairs, stepping over the multiple lines of hose that lay everywhere. Letting several of 27s men know where they were going, they split up and began searching rooms on opposite sides of the hallway. Roy found one victim in the second room he came to. The man was unconscious, but breathing. Roy pulled off his gloves and quickly ran trained hands behind the man’s head and down his neck, feeling for possible injuries. The man moaned and came around a little and tried to sit up.

Another explosion from the floor below shook the building, shattering more windows, and causing more pieces of the ceiling to fall. Apparently more than one occupant had been using propane for cooking or heating. There was shouting from the hallway. Roy didn’t have to understand the muffled words to understand the urgency in their voices. He gathered the semiconscious man over his shoulder and exited the room.

Waiting briefly for the debris to stop falling, Roy reminded the men who were getting the fire under control that Johnny was still searching for the other victim. He hurried down the stairs, making sure he didn’t trip over the hoses.

Johnny had just located the second victim when the shock from the explosion rocked the room. It knocked him off his feet and he lay on his side, momentarily stunned -- his air mask askew, he choked on the bitter taste of the smoke. Still a little dazed, he readjusted the mask and scrambled to his hands and knees. Tugging off a glove, he checked the victim for a pulse, quickly finding it. They had to get out right away, but the man was huge and Johnny didn’t think he could hoist him over his shoulder without some help. He opted to slide his arms around the man’s chest from behind and pull him out into the hallway, then get help carrying him out of the building.

Additional crews had been busy ventilating the building from the roof, so the heat wasn’t as oppressive and the smoke wasn’t quite as thick as it had been when he first entered the room. The exertion of dragging the considerable dead weight of the unconscious victim across the room had Johnny sucking in air in short, rapid breaths. He’d just reached the doorway to the hall when his air tank warning signal went off. Knowing his diminishing air supply would only last a few minutes longer the way he was breathing, Johnny pulled the man into the hall and lay him on the floor, then shouted and waited for help while he counted the man’s respirations. Having finally extinguished the fire on the third floor, two firefighters from 27s shut down their hose and came to his aid.

Hearing his warning buzzer grow louder, one of them tapped Johnny on the shoulder and signaled him to take off, letting him know they’d carry the man out of the building for him. It was time for them to be relieved anyway, their tanks about to run low, too. Johnny was completely out of air now, and gave them no argument. He stood up quickly to go, instantly feeling lightheaded and a little woozy. He sagged a shoulder heavily against the wall for a second, then pushed back his helmet and took off his mask, trying to catch his breath, swallowing smoke with every gulp of air. Waving to the other men he was okay, he waited another few seconds before following them toward the exit.

Trying to breathe in just enough air to keep going, Johnny reached the top of the stairwell and stopped. He wasn’t looking at an escalator, but the stairs were definitely moving. The smoke still hung heavily in the confined space, and without his mask to protect him, it was stinging his eyes and burning his throat. He knew there was no way he was going to make it down the stairs on his own without falling. Gagging and coughing harshly, he shrugged off the useless air tank and let it fall to the floor, then leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes, but that only made the dizzy feeling worse. He heard men coming up the stairs, and thought one of them said something to him, but before he could answer, he felt himself sliding down the wall.

* * * * * * * *

“Johnny?”

He stirred slightly and opened his eyes. Just as Roy’s face slowly began to come into focus, Johnny started coughing again. It was harsh and dry and very painful. Rolling onto his side, he pulled at the oxygen mask that covered his nose and mouth, and struggled to sit up. Several pairs of hands helped him into a sitting position, then held onto his arm and rested on his back to support him until the coughing spell subsided. Those same hands carefully leaned him back against the squad and put the oxygen mask firmly in place again.

Still a little disoriented, Johnny realized that somewhere along they line they must have taken off his turnout coat. He didn’t remember that. He shivered when Roy pushed up his shirt sleeve and slipped the BP cuff around his arm. Roy asked someone to get Johnny’s jacket from the squad while he pumped up the cuff and took the BP reading.

“How ya doin’ there, John?” Hank Stanley knelt on one knee next to him, his strong, steady hand gently clasping Johnny’s shoulder.

Johnny pulled the mask off again and heard Roy sigh.

“M’okay, Cap,” he answered in a hoarse, drowsy whisper.

Stanley looked at Roy, whose nod confirmed that he thought Johnny would be okay. Roy was on the biophone with Rampart, relaying the rest of the vitals.

“John, I gotta get back to work.” Captain Stanley stood up to go. “We’ll call in a replacement for you for the rest of the shift.... You take it easy.... Roy said he’d give me a call after we get back to the station to let me know how you’re doing.”

“Thanks, Cap… ‘preciate that.” Johnny surmised his passing out meant he wasn’t going to back to work today, but he didn’t want to stay in the hospital. He wanted to go home and go to sleep.

“… Ten-four, Rampart.” Roy was finishing his transmission. “We’ll be ready to transport as soon as another ambulance arrives. Our ETA should be approximately ten to fifteen minutes. Squad 99s already on their way in with the other victims.... They should be there any time now.”

More alert now, Johnny sat forward and started to object. “Roy… I don’t need to....” He shut up and leaned back again. Bringing the oxygen mask to his face, he took a deep breath. He knew he did need to. He felt like crap. His head was throbbing, his eyes were watering, his chest burned, and his throat felt raw.

Roy was glad he wasn’t going to get an argument. He put the BP cuff and stethoscope away, while taking in his partner’s pale, haggard appearance, obvious even under the layer of soot that covered his face. “You can relax,” he said reassuringly, “Brackett didn’t order an IV, but he does want me to bring you in. Can you tell me what happened in there, Johnny? The guys from 27s said your tank ran out of air, but they thought you were right behind them.”

“Had to take the air mask off to breathe.” Johnny frowned, thinking about how he’d felt before doing that. “I… I guess the smoke got to me before I could get down the stairs.”

“What?” Roy asked, seeing the uncertain look on his face.

“I… uh… felt kinda… weird before that though,” Johnny readily admitted. “Sorta dizzy… The explosion knocked me down, then… I don’t know. Coulda been that… or it might have been that I went from sucking in air to not having any air at all… like hyperventilating, then suddenly suffocating....” Another round of ragged coughing cut him off before he could finish his explanation.

The ambulance pulled up, and Roy asked the attendants to keep Johnny in an upright position on the ride in to ease his breathing.

Once they had the gurney settled, Roy leaned in to make sure Johnny was all right before they took off. “I need to go talk to Cap for a just minute. I’ll bring the squad in and see you as soon as I get there. You doin’ okay?”

Johnny nodded and Roy closed the back doors and gave them a slap. Since he hadn’t started an IV, Roy didn’t need to accompany him, but would follow in the squad and wait to see what the verdict was before returning to the station to wait for Johnny’s replacement to show.

Dixie was waiting in the hallway, holding the door to Treatment Room 4 open when the gurney rounded the corner. Johnny was already starting to feel better, and grumbled when they wouldn’t let him move onto the exam table by himself. One look from Dixie squelched any further complaints. She helped him take off his jacket and blue shirt and removed his shoes, but let him keep the rest of his clothes on, for which he was grateful. The exam rooms were kept too damn cold.

Dr. Morton came in a minute later, studying the sheet on the clipboard with the information from Roy’s transmission from the scene. His demeanor was brisk and all business.

“Gage.” He greeted him without looking up from the chart. “Looks like you were out for about three minutes. Did you hit your head at all?”

“No.... I… I’m pretty sure someone caught me before I went down.” Johnny was positive he hadn’t hit his head when the explosion took his feet out from under him either. “I think it was just the smoke and the heat… I was in the building for about fifteen minutes. I did feel kinda dizzy in the hallway, and then again before I passed out, though.”

Morton’s eyes searched the paper again, looking for some note he’d read. “Says here your air supply ran out and you… you removed your mask?”

Johnny didn’t especially like the condescending way he asked the question. “ I would have suffocated if I'd left it on... I should have had time to get out before the smoke got to me.”

“Um…hmm.” There it was again. “Looks to me like you were wrong.”

Johnny bristled at the comment. “Well, I guess I figured it was better to breathe in some smoke than to not breathe at all.”

Dixie didn’t miss the sarcasm in his raspy voice -- although the preoccupied doctor did -- and gave Johnny a little poke and shook her head. She read off a new set of vitals while Dr. Morton listened to Johnny’s lungs.

“Okay, Dixie,” Morton jotted a few more notes while talking, “order a full series of chest X-rays and draw some blood for arterial blood gases. I want to check his SAT levels. Tell the lab to get on it stat, and then let me know when the X-rays come back.”

Johnny groaned. He’d rather have ten IVs than arterial blood drawn. It hurt like hell, even when Dixie did it. Morton’s impersonal bedside manner wasn’t making him feel any better either. The doctor abruptly left the room without saying anything else, and almost bumped into Roy in the hallway.

“Hey, Doc. How’s he doin’?”

“Hmmm? Oh, I think he’ll be okay. His lungs don’t sound too bad, considering. You can go on in.” Morton glanced over his shoulder down the hall to where a young couple stood, then said rather curtly, “You’ve got to excuse me, Roy, I’ve got some serious cases to attend to.”

Roy was a little surprised at the brusque attitude. Smoke inhalation was pretty serious as far as he knew. Especially when unconsciousness was involved. Trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, Roy thought maybe Morton meant some “other” serious cases to attend to. He was still shaking his head when he entered the room.

“Hey, Dix.... Johnny, you feelin’ better?”

“I was… ‘til Doctor Sunshine ordered some blood.” Johnny’s eyes were following Dixie’s movements as she prepared to take the sample. He was trying hard not to flinch before she even started.

“Yeah… I ran into him in the hallway.” Roy was puzzled. There were times when Roy hadn’t been overly impressed with Mike Morton’s interpersonal skills in the almost three years that he and Johnny had worked with him, but the doctor had never demonstrated anything less than professionalism and genuine concern when it came to a patient’s health. “What’s with him today, Dix?”

She sighed softly. “You boys need to cut him slack right now. He lost a patient a little while ago.... An eight-year old girl hit by a car while she was riding her bike. She’d just gotten it for her birthday. Mike had to tell the parents… he’s taking it really hard… he seems to think there was something more he could have done.”

Not saying anything, Johnny laid his head back and waited for Dixie to get this over with. Somehow a little short-lived pain in his arm didn’t seem worth complaining about any longer.

“That’s rough,” Roy said quietly. “But still....”

“I know, Roy. Just give him some time.” Dixie looked at Johnny. “You ready?”

Roy grimaced in sympathy as the bright red blood filled the tube. Johnny was trying to hold back from coughing until she was done so he didn’t jostle his arm, but wasn’t being too successful.

Roy heard an audible sigh of relief from Johnny when Dixie announced she was done. “I’m going to take this to the lab myself.... Roy, they should be in to take some X-rays in a minute. What do you say to buying me a cup of coffee in the cafeteria after I drop this off?”

“I’d say you’ve got yourself a date,” Roy responded with a smile.

“Johnny, I’ll ask one of the nurses to come in when they’re done with the X-rays and help you get cleaned up and make sure you’re resting comfortably while we wait for the results, okay?” Before he could ask, she added, “I’ll have her bring you some water to drink, and a blanket too. You look kinda cold.”

After she left the room, Roy chatted with Johnny for a few minutes until the door opened and the portable X-ray machine was wheeled in.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave… but I’ll be back in a while to check on you.” Roy started to leave the room.

“You’re not going back to the station?” Johnny asked.

“Cap said since we were out of service for now, I could wait around for a while to see if they’re going to keep you overnight or not. If they release you, I can give you a lift back to the station… we’ll see what they say.”

“Hey, Roy… thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. You just take it easy, and I’ll check back with you later.”

Johnny thought his eyes had only been closed for a few minutes when he felt someone gently shaking his shoulder. It took him a few seconds before he recognized Dr. Brackett hovering over him.

“Hey, Doc. Guess I fell asleep.” His mouth felt sticky and dry as cotton, and his chest ached, but the nap seemed to have helped improve his overall condition.

“Hey, yourself.” Brackett smiled. “This isn’t a hotel, you know. It’s a hospital… in case you haven’t noticed. Why don’t you get dressed and get outta here and make room for someone who’s really sick.”

Johnny sat up, not about to give him a chance to change his mind. “Just hand me my shirt and shoes and I’m gone… no offense intended.”

“None taken, my friend.” Brackett’s humor faded and he folded his arms and looked at Johnny thoughtfully. “Seriously though, John, your oxygen levels were a little low, but within normal ranges, and your X-rays were negative. I think you were pretty lucky you got out of there when you did. I want to listen to your lungs again before you leave. Mike Morton said they sounded a little congested earlier, but not too bad. You know the rules, Johnny. Smoke inhalation is nothing to mess around with. You start feeling worse and I want you back in here immediately. Is that understood?”

“You got my word on it.” Johnny promised. “I’ve had enough problems lately… Lord knows, I don’t need pneumonia on top of everything else.”

Brackett was satisfied with his exam, and agreed to let Johnny go home, but not back to work today.

“When’s your next shift?” he asked, handing Johnny his shirt and jacket.

“Day after tomorrow.” Johnny hopped off the table and slipped on his shirt.

“Hmm.... That’s not much time off… why don’t you drop by late tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll take another look and clear you for duty if everything’s okay. You need to take it easy and get some rest in the meantime.”

“That I can do. Thanks, Doc. By the way, do you know if Roy’s still here?”

Brackett nodded in affirmation. “He’s in the doctors’ lounge watching TV, waiting to give you a lift back to the station. Said you need to get going, though… something about it being his turn to fix lunch. I’ll go let him know you’re about ready.”

Johnny finished tucking in his shirt and slid one arm through the jacket, then bent over to pick up his shoes. The room started to spin, and he stood up and leaned back against the exam table until it passed. It took longer to go away this time. He wondered if maybe the ear infection hadn’t cleared up completely yet, and decided if he had any more problems with dizziness in the next two days, he’d have them look at his ears again when he came back to get cleared for duty.

His stomach growled, and he wondered what Roy was making for lunch.

* * * * * * * *

Johnny was beginning to think all he ever did on his days off anymore was sleep. He’d missed out once again on the few extra days of sunshine that had graced the Southland between storms. Temperatures were dropping again, clouds were rolling in, and rain showers were expected to arrive in the next few days.

Dr. Morton had cleared him to return to work, and Johnny was glad to be out of his apartment and back at the station. His voice was still a bit hoarse, but the coughing had subsided and there hadn’t been any more dizzy spells since that one in the emergency room. He’d finished up the last of the antibiotic and hoped that would put an end to it once and for all.

The paramedics spent most of the day conducting routine fire inspections, but got called out on a number of minor medical runs as well. The engine crew did some drills and tested hose, but was basically idle most of the shift as far as calls went. By evening, boredom had set in, and one by one, they eventually drifted to the dorm and turned in for the night.

Johnny woke shortly before the wake-up tones were due to go off. He groaned in dismay when he turned over. He didn’t feel very good. Closing his eyes again, he lay on his back in his bunk and listened to the sound of the rain on the roof.

The typical rainy season in LA didn’t span much more than 8 to 10 weeks as a rule, but this year, Mother Nature seemed determined to cram as much into these last few weeks as she could. The TV news last night was full of storm warnings and traveler’s advisories -- heavy snowfall, even at the lower elevations, was anticipated in the mountains, most likely closing both the I-5 over the Grapevine and the I-15 over the Cajon Pass. Flash flood warnings were in effect in the high deserts and heavy surf was expected to pound the coast from Santa Barbara to San Diego counties. Residents from Malibu to Laguna stacked sandbags and readied for more mudslides in the hills along the Pacific Coast Highway.

Turbulent weather conditions -- all of which meant the local fire departments would be extra busy throughout the week. 51s first call came just before seven AM. Just an hour shy of going home for two days.

Station 51, Engine 60, Engine 127.... Multiple vehicle accident… southbound lanes on the 405 Freeway between Wilmington and Alameda… 405 Freeway southbound between Wilmington and Alameda. Time out 6:54.

Covers flew off and feet slid through bunker pants into boots. Stoker and Lopez and Kelly were the first ones out the dorm room doors to the apparatus bay, still pulling up suspenders over their shoulders and slipping on jackets as they raced for the engine. Stanley’s hand was just reaching for the mic by the desk to acknowledge dispatch when he heard Roy shout for his help.

Hurrying down the aisle separating the rows of bunks, he was shocked to find Gage laying on the floor between his and DeSoto’s bunks, with Roy kneeling by his side in the gap between them. Johnny was on his back, white as a ghost, with both hands on his forehead, covering his eyes and moaning softly.

“What the hell happened, Roy?”

“I don’t know… Johnny bent over to pull up his bunker pants and the next thing I knew, he went down... hard. Cap, we can’t go on the run.”

Stanley needed a quick decision. “Should I call in a still alarm, or can you handle it by yourself?”

“I’m not sure what’s wrong, but since he’s conscious, I should be able to....”

Chet came back in to see what the holdup was, and saw Johnny lying on the floor. “What the f…? What happened to Gage? You need any help, Roy?”

“No… I don’t think so, Chet. I tried to ask if he could sit up, but he told me leave him alone, so I’m just gonna do what he wants ‘til I figure out what’s wrong.”

Stanley had gone back to the desk, and picked up the mic to notify dispatch of their situation.

“LA, Station 51. Squad 51 unable to respond. We have a working Code I. Engine 51 is responding to MVA on 405 Freeway southbound. Engine 51 is responding.”

Ten-four, Engine 51....

More tones sounded over the station's speakers.

Squad 16 in place of Squad 51.... Respond to multiple vehicle accident southbound on 405 between Wilmington and Alameda… Squad 16 in place of Squad 51. Time out 06:56.

“Roy, we gotta go,” Stanley hollered as he and Chet both headed to the engine.

The rumbling sound of the engine pulling out with its siren going, and the exhaust fumes that drifted under the door into the dorm made Johnny moan a little louder.

Roy grasped Johnny’s wrists in order to pull them away from his head so he could try to find out what was wrong, but he met resistance and quickly let go. Roy noted his skin was cold and clammy to the touch. “Johnny -- I need to know what’s wrong. Help me out here. What can I do?”

Johnny was swallowing reflexively, trying to fight off the rapidly growing nausea. “Si…sick… I… I’m gonna be sick....”

Roy started to roll him on his side, but Johnny weakly pushed him away with one hand. “D..don’t… don’t move me....”

“Johnny… you gotta tell me what’s wrong. Why can’t I move you? Did you hurt your back or your head when you fell?”

“N..no…no… diz… dizzy. Roy… ‘m gonna be sick.”

Knowing what the problem was helped him decide what to do. Ignoring Johnny’s feeble protests, Roy rolled him into a left lateral position to keep him from aspirating if he vomited. Grabbing a blanket off the bed, he covered him, then sat back on his heels, waiting to see if it helped. Johnny lay tense and motionless, while Roy watched him closely.

Finally seeing Johnny’s facial features relax a bit, Roy quietly started asking questions.

“Johnny, can you talk to me?”

“Yeah....” came the even more quiet answer.

“You still feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

“N… no… Kinda… Queas… queasy… but not sick.”

“You think you can get up on your bunk if I help you, so I can check you out?”

“Maybe… ‘nother minute… give me a minute....”

“All right, you just take it easy. Let me know when you’re ready to get up.” Roy realized his own voice was a little shaky... Johnny had scared the hell out of him. “This came on pretty suddenly, didn’t it? You seemed fine yesterday.”

“I… I was fine.” Johnny finally cracked his eyes open. The sensation that the room was rotating was still there, but it was nothing like what he had experienced a few minutes ago. He started to get up and let Roy help him back onto his bunk. He felt better sitting up, and put his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. Roy sat next to him, ready to catch him if he looked like he was going to keel over again.

“What happened, Roy?” he asked, slowly sitting up straight.

“You were the one that dropped like a rock… I was kinda hoping you could tell me.”

“Kinda felt like… I don’t know… like what clothes must feel like… goin’ through the spin cycle in a washing machine.” A half dozen more analogies that would have fit the bill flashed through his mind, but just thinking about them made him feel worse.

The intensity of the dizzy spell and the accompanying nausea had faded some, but hadn’t disappeared entirely. Johnny’s hands gripped the edge of the mattress as his stomach rolled again. He was feeling like he’d just spent hours on a small boat in rough waters… and thinking no one but him could feel so seasick without ever leaving dry land.

Johnny was shivering slightly -- he’d gone from pale and cold and clammy to looking flushed and diaphoretic. Roy pulled the blanket around his shoulders and felt Johnny’s forehead. Like any parent, Roy could guess just about how high a fever without needing a thermometer.

“I think we need to get you to Rampart.” Roy stood up and put his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “You sit there a minute… it sounds like someone from B-shift is here… I’m gonna let them know what’s goin’ on, and then I’ll take you in the squad. It’ll be quicker than calling an ambulance.”

Not sure if he wanted to sit up or lay down, Johnny just nodded, wishing someone would stop the boat from rocking.

* * * * * * * *

Roy left Johnny in the capable hands of Dr. Morton once again, and drove the squad back to the station, turning it over to the B-shift paramedics. The Engine wasn’t back yet… they expected to be out for at least another forty minutes. Roy left a note for Captain Stanley that he’d give him a call later and fill him in on Johnny’s condition so he could, in turn, give a report to headquarters.

Not knowing if they were going to keep him or let him go home, Roy gathered Johnny’s keys and clothes from his locker, just in case. If they did release him, Roy could take Johnny home, and make arrangements to pick up the Rover later and get it to him. Either way, Roy didn’t think Johnny would be showing up for his next shift in two days.

Dixie was just coming out of the treatment room when Roy returned, greeting him with a slightly sardonic smile. “Morning’, Roy. You know, as much as Johnny claims he hates being a patient, he sure does seem to be spending a lot of time here lately. We’re going to have to name one of these treatment rooms ‘The John Gage Room’ in his honor pretty soon.”

Roy relaxed a little. She wouldn’t be joking if there was anything seriously wrong. On the other hand, he was sure Johnny wasn’t finding any humor in this at all.

“Is it all right if I go in?” he asked, his hand already on the door.

“I think Mike’s just about done. I’m sure it’s fine… he might want to talk to you about what happened this morning anyway.” Dixie put her hand on Roy’s arm. “I know you’re worried about Johnny. I didn’t mean to make light of his being sick.”

“It’s okay, Dixie. I’m sure even Johnny will look back on this month and laugh. It just might take a few years before he does....” Roy smiled and went into the room to talk to the doctor.

Johnny blinked his eyes sleepily when he saw Roy. He didn’t look much better than when he was brought in an hour ago. Morton was fishing around in the medicine cabinet for something, but turned to say good morning before he found what he was looking for.

“Well, Roy, I think your partner has managed to catch this flu that’s been going around. It’s not surprising, given that he’s probably a bit run down from that cold and the ear infection, not to mention the smoke inhalation episode the other day. Maybe he should’ve stayed home longer to make sure he was over everything before trying to go back to work....” Morton paused for moment. “I guess I’m at fault for letting him, but you know Gage can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be. He had me convinced he was feeling better.”

“You know, Doc, I think he really was feeling better. Johnny wouldn’t come back to work if he didn’t think he was up to it. Are you gonna keep him here or send him home again?” Roy smiled when he heard Johnny mumble the word ‘home.’

“There’s really nothing we can do for him here that can’t be done at home. Complete bed rest, plenty of fluids, aspirin for the fever. Antibiotics aren’t effective in fighting a viral infection, so he’s just going to have to ride it out. I’ve given him something for the dizziness and nausea and it’s made him pretty drowsy. He’s in no condition to get behind the wheel of a car, Roy… will you be driving him home?”

“Yeah…, it’s no problem. I’ve got his keys so we can get into his apartment.” Roy looked at Johnny, who appeared to be asleep now. “You think someone should stay with him?”

“I think it might be a good idea… that way we could make sure he’s getting plenty of fluids and something to eat. I doubt he’s going to feel much like getting out of bed for the next two days. Some of the initial symptoms of this flu can be pretty severe.” Morton handed Roy the packet of pills he’d taken from the cabinet. “These should help if he experiences any more dizziness, but he really shouldn’t take them unless he needs to.”

Roy slid them into his jacket pocket. “I can stay with him at his place.... If I have to go home for a while, I’m sure one of the other guys would be willing to come over and help out… our shift is off for the next two days. Joanne wouldn’t mind checking in on him when I go back to work. The kids are going to their grandmother’s for a week, and she’ll be wanting someone to fuss over.”

“Then I guess it’s all settled. I’ll want to see him back in here five or six days and we’ll see if he’s going to be ready to go back to work. Even though the onset of this illness is sort of dramatic and very sudden, we’ve found that the worst of it is relatively short in duration.” Morton heard a page, and excused himself to answer the phone.

Roy stuck his hand in his jacket pocket and fingered the packet of pills Morton had given him. There was something that didn’t seem quite right about this, and he stood there trying to figure out what it was until Morton got off the phone.

“We’ve got some TA victims on their way in, Roy. I’ve got to go help Dr. Brackett get ready. I’ll send an orderly in to help you get Gage to your car.” He turned to go, but Roy stopped him with a question.

“Doc, are you sure it’s just the flu? You should’ve seen him this morning. He wasn’t just a little lightheaded… I mean… he was seriously dizzy. And, you know, it’s not the first time he’s complained about feeling like that lately, either.”

Morton chafed at being questioned about his diagnoses of Johnny’s recent problems. “He’s got all the classic symptoms of the flu that’s been circulating.”

“But he’s been....”

Morton bluntly cut in while Roy was still talking. “Look,” he said impatiently, “There’s nothing wrong with Gage that a good rest won’t cure. Now, I’ve got to get going.”

“I know, but....” Before Roy could finish, Morton disappeared, leaving him standing there, more than a little frustrated. He couldn’t shake the mounting suspicion there was something more going on, although Morton was right. Johnny obviously had the flu.

It just seemed odd....

* * * * * * * *

It was good to feel good again.

Johnny had assured Roy at least fifteen times this morning that he was fine. He’d ended up only having a mild case of the flu and had been released for work after missing just the one shift. He’d taken it easy and gotten plenty of rest and had been fever-free, cough-free and dizzy-free for the last 5 days. Roy’s continuing skepticism was beginning to grate on his nerves as the morning wore on.

What was predicted to be the last major storm of the season was about to vent itself on Los Angeles. Thunder rumbled off-and-on in the darkened sky and the chilly winds blew hard, but the rain hadn’t started yet. A slight undercurrent of tension filled the station house as they waited for the inevitable call to respond to yet another storm-related incident.

With chores done, a short procedure review completed, and no runs yet, the guys sat around in the day room while Captain Stanley tackled the latest round of paperwork in his office. Roy was engrossed in a book, Mike and Marco dug out the checkerboard, while Chet put his feet up on the couch and closed his eyes. Johnny pulled a chair in front of the TV and turned on a new daytime game show called ‘Wheel of Fortune.’ With nothing better to do, he’d gotten hooked on it during his days off.

He coughed twice and knew he’d drawn Roy’s attention, but nothing was said. Not sure why Roy was acting so dubious about his well-being, Johnny wondered what it would take to convince him he was all right. The more he thought about it, the more irritated it made him to know Roy felt he had to keep an eye on him.

“So, Gage....”

The one good thing about being off work for so many days was that Johnny didn’t have to put up with Chet’s not-so-subtle attempts to annoy him. He felt great and decided no matter what, he wasn’t going to let Kelly goad him into an argument.

“Whadda ya want, Chet?”

Roy shifted in his chair without looking up from the book he was reading, and Marco and Mike interrupted their game to exchange little grins. They hadn’t heard a good Gage/Kelly repartee in a long time -- not since Johnny had sustained his concussion in the apartment fire over a month ago, then suffered his prolonged string of illnesses and minor injuries. They’d guessed Chet was waiting until he was sure Johnny was fully recovered before he started pestering him again. Maybe this was what they needed to lighten the mood.

“… What’s it gonna be today…?”

Johnny’s decision, made only a few moments ago, not to let Kelly get under his skin was instantly forgotten.... It was bad enough Roy didn’t seem to believe he was fine, now he had Kelly wondering out loud what misfortune might await him on this shift. Without getting up, Johnny spun the whole chair around and faced a startled Chet, who genuinely had no idea how he managed to push the wrong button so quickly.

“I don’t believe you, Chet. I know what you’re thinkin’. You’re thinkin’ that I’m accident-prone, aren’t you? Well… I’m not. I’m just as careful as the next guy. I don’t take any more risks than… than… than Roy or anyone else for that matter. Just because.... Just because I’ve had… I’ve just had a run of… of....” Johnny looked to the others for the words he wanted because he wasn’t going to use the phrase ‘bad luck’.... “… Help me out here, someone… of… of… unfortunate incidents… doesn’t mean anything else is going to happen.”

Chet’s mouth was hanging open in bewilderment. “Gage.... I… I....”

“You what, Kelly? You asked what it was gonna be....” Johnny stood up and faced the rest of his crew mates. “Why do you all think if something’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen to me? I’m not the only one who gets hurt or sick around here. You’ve all had your share of accidents… it’s not just me.”

Everyone was taken aback by his sudden outburst. Where this had all come from, Chet wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to let Johnny’s little tirade go unanswered. Feeling a tad defensive, he sat up straight and launched his own diatribe.

“Okay. So I’ll admit we’ve all gotten banged up a time or two. It’s… it’s part of the job. But you have to admit, Gage -- you do seem to end up in the hospital twice as much as the rest of us put together. Right, guys?” Chet was looking for some support too. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say ‘somebody’ up there doesn’t like you. And if it’s all the same to you, I don’t wanna be standing next to you when you finally piss him off for the last time....”

“I disagree, Chet.” Marco jumped into the conversation. “I think somebody up there does like Johnny or… or.....” His voice trailed off.

“Or what, Marco?” Johnny stared at him in disbelief. “Go ahead and say it.... Or I wouldn’t be standing here right now?”

Marco wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

Roy tried to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand. “Johnny… no one meant anything.... You’re just… you’re jumping to conclusions.”

“Oh, fine, Roy. Fine.” Johnny said angrily. “Now you think I’m paranoid. Tell me, do you think I’m accident-prone? The things that happen to me could just as easily happen to you, you know.”

“That’s true,” Roy agreed, trying to play the diplomat. “They could.”

“But that’s the point, Gage,” Chet quickly countered. “They don’t. They happen to you. Isn’t that right, Roy?”

Roy glared at Chet. He didn’t want to be in the middle on this one. He just wanted everyone to simmer down.

Johnny glared at Roy, waiting for his answer.

Roy shrugged his shoulders, feeling the whole day start to go down the drain. “Well, Johnny, you do have to admit....”

“Great. That’s just great, Roy.” Johnny threw his hands in the air in a show of resignation. “First you say I’m jumping to conclusions, then you tell me you agree with Kelly that I’m accident-prone. Well, tell you what. The next run we go out on, you guys make sure you’re not standing too close to me. I mean lightning might strike and Lord knows I wouldn’t want to be responsible for anyone else gettin’ hurt.”

Johnny stormed out of the room, almost knocking Captain Stanley over on his way. “Sorry, Cap,” he mumbled as he headed for the locker room.

“What just happened in here?” Stanley glanced at the guilty-looking faces at the table before finally settling on Chet’s too-innocent expression.

Roy was the first to speak up. “Johnny’s just being a little sensitive about all his injuries lately, Cap. I don’t think Chet meant to start anything.... Johnny got carried away. You know how he is. I’ll let him cool down for a while, then I’ll go talk to him.”

Chet stood up, feeling unjustly accused of provoking the whole incident. “I didn’t start it, Cap. Gage was the one that started talking about being accident-prone. I never said a word until he jumped all over me.”

“Chet...,” Roy reminded him, “You were the one who asked him....”

“No, Roy.” Chet huffed. “When I said ‘what’s it gonna be today,’ I was talkin’ about lunch. It’s Gage’s turn to make lunch, and all I was gonna ask is if we were having hamburgers or hot dogs. That’s all. He’s the one that cut me off before I could finish the question.”

Stanley looked at Roy for an explanation, still not sure what he’d missed, wondering what hamburgers and hot dogs had to do with anything.

Roy and Marco and Mike had all been expecting some witty… or not so witty… exchange of barbs between the two, Chet had been talking about something as mundane as lunch, and Johnny ended up walking out with the ridiculous idea that they all thought he was dangerous to be around.

Amazing how that worked.

“Chet’s right, Cap.” Roy said. “He really didn’t start it. For some reason, Johnny just got the wrong idea in his head.”

“Yeah, well, if you ask me,” Chet replied sarcastically, “the only thing Gage has is rocks in his head.”

“Well, Chet,” Roy slid his chair back and stood up to go talk to Johnny and smooth things over, “no one asked you.”

Hamburgers or hot dogs?

It was going to be a very long day.

* * * * * * * *

Roy hadn’t gone ten feet into the bay when the tones sounded, and quickly turned on his heels to get ready to go. Johnny jogged out from the locker room and joined him in the squad. The others pulled on their turnout coats and climbed into their spots on the engine, waiting for Captain Stanley to jot down the address and acknowledge their response.

Station 51.... Tree into house.... 25109 Oceanridge Drive.... Cross street Northbay Road.... 25109 Oceanridge Drive… Time out 11:02.

“Station 51, KMG365.”

As the squad pulled out ahead of the engine, Johnny peered through the windshield at the sky, seeing the streak of lightning flash through the clouds in the direction they were headed. He hoped he wouldn’t regret what he’d said earlier about no one standing close to him in case lightning struck. The rain still hadn’t started, but the gusting wind was growing more powerful.

All remaining thoughts of the heated exchange in the rec room vanished as they focused on the run. Johnny expertly navigated them through the winding, hilly streets of the upscale neighborhoods of this area of the county. Closer to the coast now, the winds picked up in velocity and buffeted the vehicles as they approached the address and pulled up in front of the house.

Rain-saturated ground couldn’t hold the giant old sycamore tree against the force of the wind, and it had uprooted and toppled over, crashing through the roof of the two-story house. Several people stood on the lawn by the curb and they all started talking at once the minute Hank Stanley jumped down from his seat. Holding his hands out to stop them, he asked them to calm down and have just one do the talking. A rather frantic woman in her mid-sixties was clutching her coat at her chest with one hand and was pointing toward the house with the other.

“My husband’s in there. You’ve got to get him out!” One of the neighbors put his arm around her shoulder as she broke down in tears.

Stanley lightly touched her shoulder. “Ma’am… I’m Captain Stanley. Listen, I need you to tell me where he is, and my men will find him.”

Unable to calm down enough to answer, the neighbor spoke up on her behalf. “My name’s Frank Tanner. This is Betty Jameson. She’s pretty sure he was in their bedroom. It’s the room right there in the corner.”

The man pointed to the section of the house where a broadly branched tree trunk lay where the roof had been just a short time ago.

“Roy. John. See if you can get in there....” Stanley began, only to be interrupted by the neighbor.

“Me and Jim here already tried to get up the stairs, but they’re blocked about halfway up. It looked like over half the roof came down, and there’s all sorts of branches in the way too.” He glanced nervously at the house. “The electricity is out and it’s hard to see, but it didn’t look very stable in there.... Parts of the ceiling were still falling. We thought it would be safer to wait out here for you.”

Stanley nodded in agreement, as he motioned for his men to wait. “You’re right, sir. That was a good decision.” Turning to Kelly and Lopez, he instructed them to check out the situation inside.

“Ma’am?” Roy gently tugged her elbow so she would look at him. “Ma’am. I’m Roy DeSoto, this is my partner John Gage. We’ll get your husband out of there, don’t you worry. What’s his name?”

“Raymond. It’s Raymond. Oh, please, you’ve got to hurry. He hasn’t been feeling well all morning and went to lay down for a while. He was complaining of heartburn and indigestion, so I went to the drug store to buy some antacids for him, and when I got back.... The tree… oh, please, you’ve got to help him.

“Yes, ma’am.” Roy said politely. “We’ll take good care of him. You just calm down and everything will be all right.”

The neighbor once again put his arm around her shoulder to comfort her, and Roy pulled Johnny out of hearing range of the others. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know, Roy.” Johnny knew what he was inferring. “Man that age.... Heartburn, indigestion. Could be that. Could be a heart attack. Hard to tell. If it is a heart attack, having a tree crash down around you sure wouldn’t help things, would it?”

Kelly and Lopez quickly returned with their report. “Cap, he’s right. There’s no way to get up those stairs right now. We could maybe pull away some of the debris and use a saw to cut through the tree branches, but it would take some time. He’s right about the roof too.... It doesn’t look good.”

“All right. I’m going to request another engine for backup. In the meantime, you two help Stoker set up a ladder on the east side of the house. It looks like we might have access through the window there. DeSoto, Gage… you’re gonna have to go up and see if you can get in and locate him.”

While the engine crew pulled the ladder off the side of the engine and carried it to the corner of the house, Roy grabbed the HT and a flashlight from the squad. As he and Johnny moved to join their crew, the paramedics pulled on their gloves and tightened their helmet chin straps to secure them against the wind. They quickly climbed up to the window.

Stanley pulled his HT from his pocket. “LA, this is Engine 51. Respond another engine to this location for manpower, and request an ambulance.”

Dispatch could be heard acknowledging the request in the background, as Stanley once again assured Mrs. Jameson they’d do everything they could, then he left to go lend a hand to the others.

Quickly scaling the ladder, Johnny found the window already broken and asked Roy to hand him the flashlight to use to clear away the jagged shards that stuck out from the frame. With the aid of the flashlight, he could see there was just enough room between the window and the tree to squeeze into the room. Roy quickly followed Johnny. Their eyes followed the beam of the light around the devastated room, finally spotting the man laying on the floor near the foot of the bed. Roy leaned out the window and shouted that they’d located him and would need some help getting him down.

Johnny managed to get through the mass of leaves and branches and reached the man’s side first. After clearing off some pieces of the ceiling that had fallen on Mr. Jameson, he pulled off his gloves and stuck them in his pocket. He felt for a pulse and made a quick assessment. “Roy!” He shouted, “From the looks of it, he may be going into cardiac arrest.... I can’t tell for sure, but we need to get him out of here now!”

Roy and Chet joined him within moments, and with no hesitation, Roy concurred. “Chet, Johnny and I can carry him if you can hold those branches aside to give us a clear path to the window.”

He pulled out the HT. “Engine 51, this is Squad 51. We need you to get the O2, and the equipment off the squad and set it up. Looks like we have a possible heart attack with other minor injuries. The roof is too unstable for us to treat him up here and there’s no time to lose getting a stokes… Can you send Lopez up the ladder and we’ll hand him out?”

“Ten-four Squad 51. Engine 36 has arrived for backup. We’ll have everything waiting for you when you come down.”

Chet used his body to push the branches out of the way, and by the time Roy and Johnny had the man to the window, Marco was there waiting at the top of the ladder.

“Hey, Roy, Johnny.” Chet called. “Can you help out me here…? I got a branch stuck in my coat and I can’t get loose.”

Roy went to help while Johnny stood at the window, waiting for Marco to get a little further down before he followed. He heard something snap overhead and looked up to see a wooden ceiling support beam start to fall, headed right for Roy and Chet. He yelled for them to duck, at the same time rushing in their direction to push them out of the way. They all tumbled and Roy and Chet landed on top of Johnny, sprawled in a heap on floor as the beam crashed down right next to them.

All three sat up quickly, looking at each other, a little shocked at how close it had come. Without a word, they scrambled to their feet and headed straight for the window. Roy went first, seeing that the victim was on the ground and Stanley and Stoker were doing CPR while Marco held the oxygen mask over his face. Several of 36s crew were holding the ladder steady for their descent.

Johnny noticed Chet’s forehead was bleeding and made sure he was all right, then pushed him toward the window to go next. The flashlight slipped out of Johnny's hand, and he bent to pick it up. Chet swiftly made his way down the ladder and stood aside, wiping the blood off his forehead, waiting to see if they needed his help.

Roy looked up at the window and wondered why Johnny wasn’t on his way down yet, then quickly returned his attention to Mr. Jameson, and began setting up for an IV. He asked Stanley to open a line to Rampart. He looked up again to see Johnny at the window, one leg out ready to step on the top rung of the ladder and yelled up to him. “Johnny, he’s in full cardiac arrest. I need you here.”

Roy reached for the electrodes to patch him in, when a feeling resembling sudden panic overtook him. Something wasn’t right about the way Johnny was moving.

He glanced up one more time and saw Johnny’s foot miss the rung.

* * * * * * * *

“Joe! Welcome back. How was the vacation?” Mike Morton happily greeted the well-rested doctor as he joined Early and Dixie at the nurses’ station. Mike felt good himself after finally having a day off.

“It was good, Mike. Really good. New Orleans is a great town. Great food, great jazz bands. The week went by too fast. I can’t wait to go again.”

Mike poured himself a cup of coffee and looked at Dixie. She was being awfully quiet. “Morning, Dixie.” He took a sip from the cup. “Is… something wrong?”

He could see the concern in her eyes, and something else. Doubt, questions. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt very disconcerting.

“John Gage was brought in yesterday afternoon.” Joe Early explained. “I was just on my way up to pay him a visit and see how he’s doing.”

“Gage has certainly spent more than his share of time here lately. What is it this time?” Mike almost had a smile half-formed, but a cold look from Nurse McCall stifled it.

“He has a fractured clavicle, some bruised ribs and perhaps a minor concussion.” Joe shook his head in amazement. “You know, I’ve never met a man as lucky as Johnny. The fall he took could have killed him.”

Morton had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach as he set the coffee cup down on the counter. “What happened?”

Dixie raised her eyes from the chart she had open, but wasn’t working on. “He fell from a second story window. The story is that his foot slipped off the rung of the ladder.” There was something in her voice that indicated that may not have been the entire story.

“You make that sound like there was something else.” Mike wanted to know what it was that was making him so uncomfortable.

“Well, Mike, we’re not sure yet. John was pretty groggy when they brought him in yesterday, and he wasn’t able to tell us exactly what happened. Roy told me that Johnny’s experienced a number of dizzy spells over the last several weeks, and he thinks it happened again, and that’s what caused him to fall.”

Morton was beginning to understand what Dixie’s problem was, and took on a defensive posture. “It’s true, but each time it’s been associated with something else.... The ear infection, smoke inhalation and the flu. It’s a classic symptom with all those maladies. I had no reason to suspect it was anything else.”

“Wait a minute, Mike....” Joe said calmly, “No one’s saying that you missed anything. Roy said that just before this happened, Johnny pushed him and Chet out of the way of a broken beam and they landed on top of him when they all fell. It’s possible that something happened then, and they didn’t realize it.”

“But..., Roy isn't buying that, is he?”

“No. No, he isn't.” Joe scratched the back of his head as he chose his words carefully. “He seems to think there’s another problem that all these other things have masked, and I think he may be right. Roy said he tried to talk to you about it, but you were in too much of a hurry to listen to him.”

Morton swallowed hard, knowing that was true. He’d been so sure of himself. The implication that Johnny could have died because he hadn’t been willing to keep an open mind to someone else’s concerns was staggering.

Early could see Morton was struggling to maintain his outward composure. “Like I said, I was just on my way up to see him. I've been looking over some medical reports, and I think I might have an idea what's wrong with him.You want to come along?”

Undecided for a moment, Morton nodded his head. If he’d made a mistake, he would have to face the music… and John Gage… sooner or later.

Johnny was asleep when they entered the room. Roy had come directly to the hospital after getting off shift, and was standing by the window watching the maintenance crews outside clean up the downed branches from yesterday’s storm. The sun was shining brightly on Los Angeles today.

Morton couldn’t quite read the look Roy gave him before he turned to look out the window again.

“Johnny.... Johnny, I’m sorry to wake you, but I’d like to talk you.” Joe said quietly.

Johnny shifted and moaned. They’d wrapped him with a Figure-8 bandage to hold his shoulder in place until the swelling went down and the pain subsided. Broken collarbones were painful, but recovery was usually complete and fairly quick. There had been no nerve or blood vessel damage, just a lot of bruising to his shoulder and ribs from the impact with the ground. A row of bushes surrounding the house had helped to break his fall a bit.

A lucky man. Somebody ‘up there’ definitely liked him.

He blinked his eyes open and gave a half-grin to the doctors standing there. "Hey, Mike.” he said sleepily, “I’m back.”

“I see that, Gage.” Mike forced some humor into his voice, “Can’t seem to stay away from our lovely ccommodations, can you?”

“I’d like to ask you some questions, Johnny, and then I’d like to see if we can sit you up a bit so I can take a look at you,” Early requested. “There’s something I want to check. It’ll just take a minute and then we’ll let you rest again.”

“Sure, Doc. I’m feelin’ okay.”

"Do you remember what happened yesterday, John? From the beginning?”

Roy turned around and moved closer to the bed, wanting to hear what he had to say.

Figuring what happened at the station was private, Johnny skipped over the details. He was able to recount everything that happened from the time the tones sounded until he got to the hospital, stopping only to ask what had happened to Mr. Jameson. Roy just shook his head. Johnny’s story confirmed what Roy suspected. When Chet and Roy had landed on him, he had been shaken up, and then when he’d bent over to pick up the flashlight, he’d suffered another severe dizzy spell.

“Why didn’t you just call for help, Johnny?” Roy asked quietly. “You should never have tried to come down the ladder by yourself.”

Johnny didn’t answer him, but by the look in his eyes, Roy could tell it had something to do with the conversation at the station the previous morning. He thought maybe he and Chet had some apologizing to do, especially given that if they hadn’t been standing near Johnny, they might have been seriously injured by the broken beam.

The head of the bed had already been raised slightly and Dr. Early meant to raise it some more, but accidentally went the wrong way, stopping as soon as he saw Johnny blanch and start to roll to his side, startling them all. He reversed the process until it was back in its original position.

“I’m sorry, Johnny. Is that any better?”

“Ye… yeah. Got dizzy. Just… just don’t do that again… without warnin’ me.”

Roy went into the bathroom and brought out a cool, wet washcloth and laid it across Johnny’s forehead. Johnny pulled it down so it covered his eyes and fought against the lingering nausea.

Morton looked at Early with confusion. “A symptom of the concussion?”

“It could be, but I don’t think so. Johnny is only exhibiting a few signs that would indicate a concussion. Some of the more usual ones are missing. There’s no confusion or memory loss, his attention and concentration and speech seem to be normal. He didn’t lose consciousness at the scene of the accident. He was able to tell them where he was injured. About the only signs here are the dizziness and nausea. As I understand it, those two things have been the common denominator all along.”

“What is it, then?” Morton and Roy asked simultaneously. Johnny would have asked too, but he was still dealing with the churning in his stomach.

“There’s something I noticed when I checked his pupil reaction when they brought him in yesterday. As soon as Johnny’s feeling a little better, I’ll show you. He’s got an unusual involuntary eye movement that could be indicative of a condition known as Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo.”

Johnny didn’t like the sound of that. “Sounds serious. Can you translate that for me?”

“You’ll need to examined carefully by an ENT specialist before we know for sure. If my suspicion is correct, it’s not as serious as it sounds. The commonly used phrase is ‘ear rocks.’ You see,” Early continued to explain, “within the inner ear there are tiny crystals attached to the nerve endings. Sometimes these crystals come loose -- that can be caused by concussions incurred periodically, or by repeated ear infections -- they float around, upsetting the balance nerves, which is what causes the extreme vertigo. Generally putting the ear in a downward position will bring on the symptoms, although sometimes any sudden head motion or change in position, like getting up quickly, will do the same thing.”

“It doesn’t sound like a good thing for a firefighter to have, Doc,” Roy said worriedly. “Is it a permanent condition, or is there a cure?”

“No, it’s not permanent, Roy, and if it’s confirmed to be the cause, treatment is usually just time and rest. Medication similar to that used for motion sickness is prescribed to control the symptoms when needed. The crystals eventually gravitate away from the balance nerves and the problem goes away.”

They all heard Johnny sigh in relief.

“How long does it take before it disappears completely?” Morton asked curiously.

“It all depends… but since he’ll be laid up with his arm for a while, I’d guess that by the time he’s recovered from that, the ear problem should be cleared up as well.” Early lifted the washcloth off Johnny’s eyes, and saw his fears had been relieved at the news. “Are you feeling any better now?”

“Yeah.... It’s weird -- the dizziness is really bad, but.... Except for the one time in the dorm, it’s never lasted very long. Maybe that’s because I stood up so fast and then bent down right away. I tell you, it sure does make me feel nauseous and shaky for a long time.” Johnny handed the washcloth to Roy with a quiet thanks. “I’m okay now. Just kinda tired and sore still. My shoulder’s hurtin’.”

“Gentlemen, I think maybe Johnny could use some rest now.” Early looked at him and added, “I’ll call Dr. Johnston and arrange for a consultation just as soon as possible. I don’t think you’ll be in here for more than another day or two, so I’ll see if he can come by and talk to you before you’re discharged.”

“Thanks, Dr. Early.” Johnny frowned at Roy. “At least we know there’s a reason for all this stuff that’s happened to me lately.... Some people almost had me convinced I was just plain accident-prone. Which I’m not.”

Roy winced a little at the well-aimed shot, but figured he had it coming. He also figured this wasn’t going to be the end of it, either. He’d hear about it again. And again. And probably again. In the end, though, he knew it would be Chet who was going to pay big time for his remarks.

Roy wanted to be around for sure when that happened.

* * * * * * * *

“Come in.”

Kelly Brackett glanced up from page in the medical book he was reading, and watched as a somewhat disquieted Mike Morton entered the room.

“Kel, do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” he said, mentally marking his place in the book and pushing it aside. “Have a seat.”

Morton sat down and crossed his legs as he leaned back in the chair. He took off his glasses and cleaned them before putting them back on. Brackett watched as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, and for a moment thought the younger doctor was going to get out the chair and leave without saying anything.

Brackett tried and failed to make eye contact. “Is there something I can do for you, Mike?”

Morton finally looked at him. Apprehension filled his eyes. “I suppose you heard what happened to John Gage yesterday?”

Brackett nodded. He had taken a few minutes earlier in the day to pay him a visit. Though still in some pain, Johnny had appeared to be in good spirits, garnering all the sympathy he could from the nurses that always seemed to linger in his room.

“Joe Early told me. Interesting diagnosis. I was just looking it up in this journal to see if I could find out more about it. I’m not that familiar with the condition.”

Morton looked at the floor and clasped and unclasped his hands several times before finally meeting Kelly Brackett’s inquisitive stare again.

“He could have been killed.”

Brackett’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Well, the important thing is that he wasn’t.” He waited patiently for the explanation that was slow in coming.

Morton drew in his breath and exhaled slowly before speaking again. “I missed the signals, Kel. Not once or twice, but three times. Gage could be dead now, and it would be my fault.”

“Hold on there a minute, Mike,” Brackett cautioned as he leaned forward. “You didn’t ‘miss’ anything as far as I know. Johnny's dizzy spells had a logical explanation each time he was in here.”

“I know they did, but....”

“Mike, assuming Joe’s right about the problem, I can see how it could have easily been masked by his other illnesses and injuries. This isn’t something you hear about every day, and I can’t say that I remember learning about ‘ear rocks’ in medical school either.”

“Maybe, Kel. But, looking back on it, I realize that Gage tried to tell me that he’d been dizzy before he ran out of air at that hotel fire, but I didn’t listen to him. And, the last time, Roy tried to tell me he thought there was something else wrong, and I just brushed him off.”

“Oh?” Brackett hadn’t been aware of that.

“When he brought him in that morning with the flu... Roy said that John’s dizzy spell had been a severe one, and questioned whether it would have been caused by the flu. He tried to remind me that Gage had complained of dizziness more than once over the last month. I knew Gage had suffered a concussion prior to that. Maybe if I’d have listened to DeSoto, or paid closer attention to Gage’s complaints, he wouldn’t be lying upstairs in a hospital bed right now.”

Brackett sat back and carefully contemplated his next words.

“Mike, you’re a fine doctor. You work hard and you learn fast. I personally don’t think we could run this department without you. But... you need to remember that there’s more to being a good doctor than knowing your medical facts and making diagnoses and prescribing treatment. You have to learn to pay attention to what people are trying to tell you. I know that listening isn’t always easy. We all tend to get a little impatient with people sometimes, and forget that even the most routine symptoms could be a sign of something else.”

“I was so sure....”

Brackett laughed a little ruefully. “I remember telling Gage and DeSoto once that the only ‘sure’ doctor is a fool. Don’t... take that the wrong way. I’m just saying that we can’t afford to assume that we know everything. You may know more about medicine than Roy does, but he knows Johnny a lot better than you do. People don’t always know what’s wrong, they just know something is wrong. And it’s our job to listen and figure it out.”

Morton was quiet while he digested the gentle lecture, then stood up to go. He didn’t feel better about the mistake he’d made... one that could have cost John Gage his life. The only thing he could do now was try not to make that kind of mistake again.

“Thanks, Kel. I appreciate the advice.”

“My door’s always open. Stop by anytime. I’m always willing to listen.” Brackett resumed reading the medical book he’d put aside a few minutes ago.

Morton’s hand was on the doorknob when he heard Brackett say quietly, “You’re not the only one who missed the signals, Mike. Remember, I saw him, too.”

Taking some small comfort in that, but doubting that it would make Gage feel better to know that two of Rampart’s ‘finest’ missed the call, Dr. Morton paused a moment, then went out the door.

* * * * * * * *

He pushed the door open slowly, and quietly stepped into the dimly lit room. Morton felt a twinge of disappointment that Gage was asleep. He was uncomfortable enough about being here, and wanted to make his apologies and leave. He turned to go, but heard Johnny shift in bed, a low moan slipping from his lips.

The doctor in him made him move to Johnny’s bedside. He was sleeping restlessly, the pain he was in quite evident on his face. One arm was immobilized, and he had the other resting over his bruised ribs, as though he was guarding them from further injury. There was some slight bruising down the side of his face and a number of scratches there, too. From the bushes, Mike thought. He hadn’t even noticed them when he was here earlier.

It startled him to realize this was part of his problem. He was always so intent on seeing the big picture, that the little details... the ones he deemed unimportant, eluded him.

Johnny moaned again and Mike saw him flinch, but he didn’t open his eyes. He seemed to be agitated, and Mike wondered if he was dreaming. He reached out and put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, and he seemed to settle down a little.

Mike suddenly wondered what it must have been like. The fall. He wondered if Johnny had even had time to think about it before he hit the ground. He wondered if it had scared him. Mike didn’t like heights himself and knew he would have been petrified to have even been on a ladder, much less in the raging wind, feeling dizzy. Men like Gage and DeSoto never seemed to be afraid of anything. He knew they’d put their lives on the line dozens of times, but Mike had always been too busy taking care of the victims they brought in to give any thought to the situation they had just come from.

Morton realized that he had worked with these men for almost three years and really didn’t know them. Years as a med student, intern, resident and ER doctor had meshed together and never left time for a social life or friends. He was serious about his profession and wanted to be the best. In his quest to do that, he realized that he’d overlooked the importance of a lot things. Small things... the things that made life meaningful.

Johnny’s eyes blinked open and took a few seconds to focus, and was surprised to see Morton standing there watching him. “Hey, Mike. Kinda late isn’t it?”

“I hope not.”

Johnny couldn’t process that one.

Seeing his look of mild confusion, Mike smiled. “I came by to... to apologize. I should have known something was wrong. I should have listened to you. I should have listened to Roy when he tried to tell me.”

Johnny winced again when he shifted positions. “Funny. Roy said it was his fault... for not making you... listen to him.”

“I think maybe Roy and I need to have a little talk. I owe him an apology too.” Morton could see that Johnny’s eyes were drooping. The mild sedative that they had given him was doing its job. “I should go now and let you get back to sleep. Can I get you anything before I go?”

“No. Thanks. Um... Mike?”

“Yes?”

“It wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t Roy’s fault. Let’s just forget it.”

Morton had no intention of forgetting the lesson he’d learned. He stopped at the door and turned around.

“John?”

“Yeah?”

“You like blues music?”

“Yeah, sorta. Why?”

Morton was surprised. He’d figured Gage to be a strictly rock ‘n roll kind of guy. “I don’t know. I thought maybe.... There’s this great little club I know. I thought maybe... you might like to go sometime. You could bring a date and we could have a few drinks and enjoy the show.”

“Sure... jus’ tell... me....” Johnny couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

“John.... Thanks, man.”

There was no reply. Mike hoped Johnny would sleep well the rest of the night.

Thanks to John Gage, Mike Morton knew he would.

* * * * * * * *

“Ear rocks, huh?”

“That’s what they’re called, Chet.”

“And you’re sure you’re gonna be okay?”

Johnny sighed as he grabbed a towel and dried his face. “Chet, I’ve told you ten times already, the doctor said I’m fine now. I can hang upside down if I want, and not get dizzy any more.”

“Well..., I still don’t know why you’re talkin’ about Morton not listening. You two aren’t any better than he is.”

“What are you talking about, Chet?” Roy asked, taking the bait for a change.

“You know,” Chet said matter-of-factly, “If you had listened to me, I could have saved you a lot of time and trouble. I knew what was wrong with Gage all along.”

Roy looked at Johnny, who returned the look and shrugged.

Chet closed his locker door. “I’m going to bed now. You two should do the same.”

“Wait a minute, Chet.” Johnny protested. “What you do mean, you knew what was wrong with me all along?”

Chet sauntered through the door to the dorm. Johnny and Roy both followed on his heels, waiting for his explanation. With his back to them, they couldn’t see the smile that almost stretched from ear to ear. He loved it when he had their attention. Chet crawled into his bunk and pulled the blanket up under his chin.

“Night guys.”

Roy shook his head, and Johnny mumbled something about how he hadn’t missed Chet at all while he’d been off on medical leave. Johnny was still straightening his turnout gear when Roy got into his bunk and pulled the blanket over his head.

“CHET!”

Roy peeked out and started laughing.

Johnny had pulled his blanket down to get into bed. A small pile of rocks lay on his pillow, and he was glaring at Chet.

Chet sat up and rested on his elbows. “What? Oh, those. Thought maybe you wondered where they went. I think they must’ve fallen out that morning when you keeled over. I found ‘em under your bunk when I was cleaning up in here a few days later. Saved ‘em for you.”

“Chet.” Johnny growled.

“Gage.... I’ve always said you had rocks in your head, and now we know it’s true. We’ve got medical proof, right Roy?”

“I’ll give you rocks....” Johnny picked up a handful.

Captain Stanley’s voice carried across the dorm. “One more word out of either of you tonight, and you’ll both be scrubbin’ the latrine for a month.”

Johnny glared at Chet for another few seconds, then sat down on the edge of his mattress, holding the rocks in his hands. Roy watched curiously when a grin began to form on Johnny’s face and he could see the plan -- whatever it was -- slowly start to take shape.

“Johnny?”

Putting the rocks neatly on the floor just under his bunk, Johnny looked up at Roy, the grin still in place.

“Yeah?”

“What are you gonna do with those?”

Johnny’s eyes flicked across the aisle to Chet’s bunk and back to Roy. “Nothin’.”

“Johnny....”

“I’m just movin’ them out of the way. I’d hate to get up in the middle of the night and trip and fall over them. Especially knowin’ the two of you think I’m so accident-prone and all.”

Roy swallowed hard. He’d hoped Johnny had forgotten about the discussion that day. Apparently not.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Night, Roy.”

“Johnny?”

Roy laid his head back on his pillow and sighed. A Chet prank was bad enough.

But a Johnny one....

BY NanM

For most of the crew anyway.

And more rain.

And now this.

* * * * * * * *

“Shut-up, Chet.”

“Geez, Gage. I didn’t even say anything.”

“Hey, pal. Sorry. That shoulder still bothering you?” Stanley asked, concerned by the reaction.

Johnny blinked his eyes and flexed his shoulder, surprised that it had hurt that much. Roy had just walked in and was looking at him, waiting for his answer.

“No, it’s not the shoulder, Cap.” Johnny’s voice was scratchy and nasally sounding. “That’s doin’ fine. Just caught a cold the other day, and I guess my muscles are still a little achy is all.”

While Roy did the morning biophone check with the Rampart base station, Johnny pulled the drug and trauma boxes from the side compartments, and set them on the floor beside the squad. He crouched down and flipped open the drug box first and began taking inventory.

“Johnny?”

He looked up and saw Roy crouched down too, staring at him. He hadn’t even heard Roy finish the calibration or put the scope and the biophone away.

“What?”

“You sure you’re feelin’ all right? You looked about a million miles away just now.” Roy thought Johnny looked pale and more than a little tired.

Roy laughed and asked if she ever shared the recipe, but their smiles faded when they heard the wind gusts rattle the doors and felt the cold, damp air sweep through the apparatus bay.

The rain came down a little harder.

Roy thought Johnny was going to pass out, and grabbed him by his right arm to steady him. The drug box slipped from his grasp and dropped to the floor. The dizzy spell was more intense this time, but vanished quickly again.

“I’m okay, Roy. You can let go of me now.” Johnny shrugged his arm loose. “I… I just stood up too fast.”

Roy eyed him suspiciously. “Uh-huh. You know, if you’re still sick, you shouldn’t be here. Being out in the rain and cold weather is only going to make you feel worse.”

Johnny shook his head in disagreement. “I told you.... I feel a lot better today. Besides, no one’s gonna want to come in to relieve me on a day like this. I sure wouldn’t. We’ve got four days off after this shift, and I’ll get over it then.... It’s just a cold, Roy.”

Roy couldn't put his finger on it, but he still thought something was wrong.

* * * * * * * *

“Hey, Dix!” They’d helped themselves to the supplies they needed and were filling out the signature forms when she walked up.

“Guys.” Dixie dropped a chart down on the counter and went to pour a cup of coffee while it was still fresh.

"Seems kinda quiet in here this morning..." Johnny observed, looking down the virtually deserted hallway. "Where is ev...."

"Bite your tongue, young man!" Dixie put her hands on her hips and silenced him with one of those looks. "You think a fire station is the only place where you can jinx the day by saying something like that?"

"Sorry," Johnny mumbled apologetically, "I forgot."

Dixie brandished her pen in front of his face and muttered right back, "Yeah, well if it gets busy, it's gonna be all your fault you know."

Roy laid the HT on the desk while he signed the form and handed it to her. “We’d love to oblige you, believe me. It wouldn’t break my heart if we had to stay at the station all day. Somethin’ tells me that’s not gonna happen, though.”

“Roy, why don’t you take your friend here into Treatment 2? Dr. Morton’s in there and maybe he can take a peek down his throat and make sure it doesn’t look as bad as it sounds.” Dixie had such a unique way of making an order sound like nothing more than a pleasant suggestion.

Johnny opened his mouth to protest, but knew he wouldn’t win. Not with these two. He wasn’t sure he wanted to win today anyway. Not only did his throat bother him, but his ears did too. He thought maybe a mild decongestant to unplug his sinuses wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“Um-hmm.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. He hated it when doctors did that.

Roy leaned a shoulder against the wall, arms folded, with a smile on his face.

Johnny hated it when Roy did that too.

“Throat looks a little red.” Morton motioned to the table behind him. “Roy, why don’t you get one of those thermometers over there and stick in under his tongue while I check his ears?”

“Hey, I’m not running a fever.” Johnny did protest this time. “Don’t you think I’d know if I had a fever? Look, all I have is a dumb....”

Roy shoved the thermometer in Johnny’s mouth and pushed up on the bottom of his chin. Johnny glared at him, but kept his mouth closed.

“Um-hmm.”

Morton checked the right ear, then the left ear, then the right ear again.

“Looks like you’ve got a mild infection going in your throat and both ears. The right one looks a little more inflamed than the left.” Morton handed the thermometer to Roy for a reading, then pulled out another depressor and looked down Johnny’s throat one more time.

“His temperature seems to be normal,” Roy announced, blowing off the smirking ‘see, I told you’ look Johnny gave him. "About the only thing that is...." Roy smiled, pleased with his little comeback.

Morton stood back and rested his chin in his hand while he thought about his diagnosis. “Any other symptoms? Nausea, headache, dizziness?”

Before Johnny could get the word ‘no’ out of his mouth, Roy mentioned that it appeared to him that Johnny had almost passed out earlier this morning.

Johnny’s look told Roy he was more than a little peeved that he’d brought that up. “I told Roy… I just stood up too fast. It was no big deal. Just lasted a second or two.”

Johnny wheezed a congested sigh of relief.

Johnny shook his head and looked apprehensive. If he was going to need a shot, he wanted Dixie or one of the other nurses to do it. The last time Morton gave him an injection, it had hurt like hell.

“Hey, thanks Mike.” Johnny slid down off the table and pulled his jacket on again, mentally sympathizing with the doctor. He thought maybe the emergency room staff were the only people who got less sleep than firefighters.

“Yeah, thanks.” Roy echoed as they left the room. “We’ll see you later. Get some rest.”

Roy handed Johnny the HT and picked up the box of supplies they’d left at the nurse’s station, tucking it securely under his arm as they walked down the hallway. They turned the corner and stopped for a moment before going through the double doors.

“Man, I hate the rain.” Johnny muttered under his breath, then made a dash for the passenger-side door.

He’d never admit it to Roy, but Johnny was glad he’d let Morton take a look at him.

* * * * * * * *

“John, how ya feelin’, pal?” Stanley asked, after swallowing the last bite of his coffee-soaked glazed twist.

An hour into the shift, multiple tones sounded for a structure fire. Not a good thing, but at least it wasn’t another traffic accident. They were firefighters after all.

Waiting briefly for the debris to stop falling, Roy reminded the men who were getting the fire under control that Johnny was still searching for the other victim. He hurried down the stairs, making sure he didn’t trip over the hoses.

* * * * * * * *

“Johnny?”

“How ya doin’ there, John?” Hank Stanley knelt on one knee next to him, his strong, steady hand gently clasping Johnny’s shoulder.

Johnny pulled the mask off again and heard Roy sigh.

“M’okay, Cap,” he answered in a hoarse, drowsy whisper.

Stanley looked at Roy, whose nod confirmed that he thought Johnny would be okay. Roy was on the biophone with Rampart, relaying the rest of the vitals.

“John, I gotta get back to work.” Captain Stanley stood up to go. “We’ll call in a replacement for you for the rest of the shift.... You take it easy.... Roy said he’d give me a call after we get back to the station to let me know how you’re doing.”

“Thanks, Cap… ‘preciate that.” Johnny surmised his passing out meant he wasn’t going to back to work today, but he didn’t want to stay in the hospital. He wanted to go home and go to sleep.

“… Ten-four, Rampart.” Roy was finishing his transmission. “We’ll be ready to transport as soon as another ambulance arrives. Our ETA should be approximately ten to fifteen minutes. Squad 99s already on their way in with the other victims.... They should be there any time now.”

“Had to take the air mask off to breathe.” Johnny frowned, thinking about how he’d felt before doing that. “I… I guess the smoke got to me before I could get down the stairs.”

“What?” Roy asked, seeing the uncertain look on his face.

The ambulance pulled up, and Roy asked the attendants to keep Johnny in an upright position on the ride in to ease his breathing.

Once they had the gurney settled, Roy leaned in to make sure Johnny was all right before they took off. “I need to go talk to Cap for a just minute. I’ll bring the squad in and see you as soon as I get there. You doin’ okay?”

Johnny nodded and Roy closed the back doors and gave them a slap. Since he hadn’t started an IV, Roy didn’t need to accompany him, but would follow in the squad and wait to see what the verdict was before returning to the station to wait for Johnny’s replacement to show.

Dr. Morton came in a minute later, studying the sheet on the clipboard with the information from Roy’s transmission from the scene. His demeanor was brisk and all business.

“Gage.” He greeted him without looking up from the chart. “Looks like you were out for about three minutes. Did you hit your head at all?”

Morton’s eyes searched the paper again, looking for some note he’d read. “Says here your air supply ran out and you… you removed your mask?”

Johnny didn’t especially like the condescending way he asked the question. “ I would have suffocated if I'd left it on... I should have had time to get out before the smoke got to me.”

“Um…hmm.” There it was again. “Looks to me like you were wrong.”

Johnny bristled at the comment. “Well, I guess I figured it was better to breathe in some smoke than to not breathe at all.”

Dixie didn’t miss the sarcasm in his raspy voice -- although the preoccupied doctor did -- and gave Johnny a little poke and shook her head. She read off a new set of vitals while Dr. Morton listened to Johnny’s lungs.

“Okay, Dixie,” Morton jotted a few more notes while talking, “order a full series of chest X-rays and draw some blood for arterial blood gases. I want to check his SAT levels. Tell the lab to get on it stat, and then let me know when the X-rays come back.”

“Hey, Doc. How’s he doin’?”

*** * * * * * * ***

*** * * * * * * ***

*** * * * * * * ***

**An hour into the shift, multiple tones sounded for a structure fire. Not a good thing, but at least it wasn’t another traffic accident. They were firefighters after all.**

*** * * * * * * ***