Author's notes: Thanks for all the encouragement, and your kind thoughts for Brian. I haven't been able to see him yet, because I've been sick with some kind of virus or other for the past two weeks and I don't want to introduce anything infectious into his environment. Brian's been moved to the rehab centre, and is currently in a brace to support his spine. Eventually, this will come off. His physiotherapy has not really started in earnest, but that's to be expected. His attitude is still good. Dave keeps us updated, since Brian can't really have a lot of visitors yet. He's got a long road to recovery, but he has a lot of friends to help him when he's down. I kind of like that.
Roy excused himself and left the lounge for a couple of minutes. ‘Man,' he thought, ‘I feel like I'm wearing two faces -- one for the families and one for Johnny and JoAnne. Where am I in all this?'
He'd lost track of the hours. He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that it was only five-thirty in the evening. He was sure it had been at least twenty-four hours since the engine had slipped off the edge of the road. Unbidden, the accident scene replayed itself over and over again in his mind. ‘Why?' he agonized. ‘Why was it the engine? Why wasn't it the squad? It should have been us, not them. We were leading the way. I was driving -- I made it through that patch. Did we somehow loosen the edge of the road so that the engine couldn't hang on? Why did this happen?'
Roy jumped as he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. He turned to face a very concerned JoAnne.
"Roy? Are you okay?" she asked softly.
"I don't know. I keep trying to figure it out. Why didn't the squad go over? We were first," he said with misery.
She put both hands on his shoulders and said, "Look at me, Roy." He looked down into her lovely face. He didn't like the lines of worry that were etched there. "Roy, I know how hard the past few hours have been on you -- they've been hell for all of us. Shall I tell you what I'm feeling right now?" she challenged.
He nodded wordlessly.
"I can sum it up with two words -- ‘worry' and ‘guilt'. Worry for our friends and their families -- our extended family, in effect. Guilt, because I don't have you in there, hanging onto life by a thread, like the other wives, children and parents. It's that simple, sweetheart. I know you and Johnny are feeling guilty, too. Don't. We all have to be extra strong right now, to help everyone through this." She paused, considering this man that she loved above all other things. "Did Chief McConakee talk to you about seeing the psychologist?"
He tried to pull away from her, but was surprised by the fierce grip she maintained on his shoulders. "Yeah. He's putting together a debriefing, tomorrow or the next day."
She leaned up to kiss him, and whispered firmly in his ear, "Be there!" She released him, then said softly, "Do you think you're ready to put on the ‘don't worry' face, again? There should be some news soon."
He hugged her fiercely. "I love you, did you know that?"
"Of course. Why do you think I've stuck around this long?" she said impishly, as they headed back to the waiting area.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
They were still waiting. It had been an hour since Marco had been moved up to a room. They had only been allowed to visit for a couple of minutes, since he had been given medication for the pain. With the half-body cast covering his left side from hip to armpit, with a prop that kept his left arm stretched out in an awkward position, it was just as well that he'd been so heavily sedated.
Both Johnny and Cassie were pacing, each of them so absorbed as to be oblivious of the other. Roy watched the macabre choreography as the pair managed to keep their paths crossing without running into each other. ‘It's like watching some bizarre dance routine,' he thought, mesmerized. He dragged his eyes away from the strange ballet to gaze fondly at his wife. JoAnne was quietly talking to Sandi Stanley and Peggy Stoker, holding one of each woman's hand in hers. Roy felt a sudden surge of pride and deep affection for his wife. ‘God, JoAnne was an absolute lifeline!' He was so glad she was here.
All movement ceased when Dr. Brackett entered the room. "Cassie? Can you come with me, please?" he said, lightly touching her shoulder.
She shook her head slightly and said, "Doc, anything you want to tell me, you can tell my brothers and sisters, here," as she gestured to the others in the room.
He grinned crookedly and said, "Okay. Chet's in recovery right now, and we'll be keeping him up in ICU overnight, at least. He's been very heavily sedated, and we're going to keep him that way for a couple of days, anyway. We want to keep him hooked up to a respirator to help take some of the strain off his lungs and diaphragm. Now, although his lungs weren't actually torn, there was a certain amount of bruising, and his diaphragm was a bit lacerated by a couple of the broken ribs. They've repaired the damage, but we want to have the machine doing the work for a couple of days, at least."
Cassie had been rolling her lower lip between her teeth and nibbling it unconsciously the whole time that Dr. Brackett had been speaking. "Okay," she said bluntly, "When can I see him, and when will he really be conscious?"
Kel smiled at her forthrightness. "You can go see him in about ten minutes, but not for long. He should be back with the world in about two days."
She smiled and said, "God, two whole days without Chet talking! How will we ever survive?" She wiped brusquely at the tears of relief that had started running down her face. She walked over to the couch and started to gather her things together.
"Doc," asked Johnny, "What about the Mike and...the Cap?"
Brackett hesitated, and directed his comments to Sandi and Peggy. "Hank's still under close observation up in the ICU. Joe's with him now, and he'll be down shortly with an update. Mike's still in surgery. They've repaired most of the abdominal damage, and we have our best orthopedic surgeon looking after his arm. I'll check on them and let you know." He proffered his elbow to Cassie. "Would you care for an escort, milady?"
Cassie laughed and replied, "Certainly, Doctor Gorgeous, anywhere you say."
Kel coughed in embarrassment as Cassie clutched his arm and tickled his chin.
"Gotcha, Doc. Shall we go see my big brother?"
Brackett cleared his throat, adjusted his tie with his free hand, and said, "I should be back in about ten minutes."
As they left the room, a wave of nervous laughter followed them.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Still they waited. Sandi Stanley rose hesitantly to her feet as Joe Early came in the room. One look at his face as he quickly approached her was enough. She swayed on her feet and would have fainted if Roy had not caught her. "What...what..." she stammered.
"Sandi, sit down," he began gently, easing her to the couch and sitting beside her. He took her hand in his. "We've just done another scan on Hank, and it's showing an increase of intercranial pressure. We think he's got an epidural hematoma. That's bleeding between the skull and the brain covering. We have to operate to relieve the pressure. I'm sorry."
She clutched his hand as if it were a lifeline, while she wiped away her tears with her other hand. "Do...do whatever you have to," she whispered, bowing her head and breaking into sobs. Joe held her, rocking her gently while she cried. "Are you doing the surgery?" she asked, sniffing.
"Yes. We should be starting in about half an hour, if you wanted to come up..."
"Right. Yes, I do. Let's go, okay?" Sandi said, standing up and taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Joe. Thanks, everyone. I... I guess I'll be back in a few minutes."
Johnny came over and gave Sandi a hug. "He'll be okay, Sandi. We're all pulling for him, you know."
"I know, Johnny. Thanks."
Sandi and Joe left, to head up to the ICU. Kel Bracket came back a few minute later. He checked the people in the room, and said, "I guess Joe was here, right?" As the others nodded, Kel went over to Peggy Stoker and sat down. He spoke loudly enough for all to hear, but he addressed Peg. "Peggy, I've just come from talking to the surgeons on your husband's case. They've been able to save his arm, but they're not sure how much nerve damage was done. We'll have to wait for a while until we're able to do some tests. They should be just finishing up right now, and Mike will be in the Surgical recovery ward for a couple of hours, before being moved to the surgical ICU. They had to remove his spleen, and to repair a bit of damage to the liver and stomach. Now, we've had to give him a lot of blood, and he'll still be receiving transfusions for a short while. It'll look pretty scary, with all the tubes coming out of him, but they're all necessary for a while. We hope to have him off the respirator tomorrow, but that will depend on how quickly his system recovers. Once he's conscious, we can start doing some testing on his arm. Do you have any questions?"
She looked at him, closed her eyes, and let out a sigh of relief. "I don't have any questions right now, but I probably will later. When can I see him?"
He paused, considering. "In about half an hour, you can go up, but he'll be unresponsive. He probably won't wake up for at least ten hours. After you see him, you should probably go home and try to get some rest. Doctor's orders," he said with a slight smile.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was eleven o'clock at night. Roy and JoAnne were asleep, leaning on each other's shoulders on the couch in the waiting room. Peggy and Sandi were sipping coffee, and talking softly to each other. Johnny continued to pace the waiting area. Cassie left the elevator and came into the room. She took one look at the people in the room, then strode over to Johnny and grabbed his elbow. "Let's go, Gage," she said abruptly as she virtually hauled him out of the room and outside the hospital. She dragged him out to the far side of the ambulance parking area.
He roughly brushed her hand off his arm and said angrily, "What the hell do you think you're doing, Kelly?"
She regarded him coolly. "Johnny, you're wearing a hole in the floor. You can't say how frustrated you are about everything, because you know it will upset one of the wives. So you let your inner rage show by pacing non-stop. Let it out -- you can say what you want out here, without ‘let or hindrance'. Believe me, I understand. Nothing you say will get back to anyone else. Now, spill it. How are you really feeling?"
He regarded her, his rage near the boiling point. "I don't know what I'm feeling!" he shouted. "I'm angry that this...this ‘accident' happened! I'm... I'm annoyed that everyone was hurt so bad! I'm worried about them all, especially Mike and Cap. We're still waiting to hear about Hank's surgery; nobody knows about Mike's recovery... I'm, oh I don't know, I'm just SO PISSED OFF!"
She said calmly, "And you don't know why, right? Let me guess -- you think there was more you could have done, and earlier, don't you?"
He whirled angrily to face her. "You're crazy! That the stupidest thing I ever heard!"
"Really? I know that's how I'd feel, if I were in your shoes. I'd be second-guessing myself about everything, I think. I'd be wondering, ‘What if we'd found the engine first? Would Hank or Mike be any better off than they are now?' I'd wonder, ‘Did we do the right thing? Did I do something too slowly?' Most of all, I'd ask myself, ‘Why was the squad spared? Why weren't we hurt, too?' Am I right, Johnny?" she commented softly.
"Jeez, you sound like some kind of shrink, you know? Well, here's a news flash, honey, ‘I DON'T NEED A SHRINK! I don't need to ‘come to terms with my feelings' at all! I know what I'm feeling, and it's nobody's business but mine. I'm going back inside. I want to know how Cap is doing. Just leave me alone, okay?" he said as he headed back to the hospital.
She shook her head, smiling wryly, and followed him back into the waiting area. As she entered the waiting area, she heard the tail end of what Joe was telling Sandi.
"...So, you'll be able to see him later tomorrow. We managed to repair all the damage, and he should hopefully be conscious in about eight to ten hours. He'll likely be drifting in and out of consciousness for a few hours after that. That's perfectly normal with this kind of injury, so don't worry about that. Now you should all go home and get a good night's sleep. There are some folks who will be mighty glad to see you tomorrow."
Sandi's face broke into a huge grin. "I don't know how to thank you, Joe. When I saw him earlier, I never thought he'd... Anyway, thanks for bringing him back. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess." She gave Joe a kiss on the cheek, then gave Peggy a hug and said, "Well, Peg, let's call a cab. We need to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in a few hours. Our spare bedroom is already made up, if you want to spend the night."
"Thanks, Sandi. I'll take you up on that. I can't imagine spending the night alone after...all this," replied Peggy, linking arms with Sandi.
As the whole group left, JoAnne said, "I'll see you later, girls. Come on, Roy, Johnny. Good night, Cassie. You okay to get home?"
"Yeah, thanks, JoAnne. I've got my car here. I'll see you tomorrow. Johnny, think about what I said, okay?" she said as she went to her car.
Johnny just glared at Cassie, then said to JoAnne, "Thanks for the lift. Just drop me off at the Second Alarm, okay?"
Roy and JoAnne exchanged a glance, and Roy said, "Johnny, are you sure..."
"YES, I'm sure! If you don't want to drop me off there, I'll just get a cab," he replied, clenching his jaw.
Roy held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, Junior, you win. That's not the answer, though," he said as they got into the car.
"Look, Pally, I don't want any lectures, all right? Just drop me off at the damned bar."
Johnny maintained an icy, angry silence until they got to the bar. "Thanks for the lift," he mumbled as he got out of the car. "Look, I'm sorry. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
"Right, Johnny. Good night," answered the DeSotos.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Okay, folks, bar's closing in five minutes," announced Smokey, as he headed to the back to answer the telephone. "Second Alarm, Smokey here...Yeah, Roy, he's still here...I don't know, seven, maybe eight beers. Look, I already told him he could sleep it off in the back room. Yeah, I know it's not the Hilton, but the Hilton kicks you out if you want to scream or cry or try to punch out the walls. No, I'll be all right with him. Just collect him on the way to the hospital. Give JoAnne my best. Good night, Roy."
Smokey went over to the table where Johnny sat, morosely staring into his tankard. "Gage, it's 2 am. We're closing up now."
"Huh? Wuzzat? I got alla time inna world. The guys don't, though," Johnny slurred.
Smokey said, "Get up, John. Come with me into the back, and we'll talk."
"Where is everyone?" Johnny looked around in bewilderment.
Smokey snorted. "Probably home in bed, like normal people. C'mon, Gage, get yer butt into the back -- I'll join you in a couple of minutes."
"Okay," Johnny said compliantly. He grabbed his beer and lurched to the room in the back.
After Smokey had locked up the premises, he picked up a beer for himself and joined Johnny. He sat down across from Johnny and opened his beer.
"Well?" Johnny demanded belligerently. "Let's get started."
Smokey took a swig of his beer. "Get started with what?" he asked.
"Aren't ya going to tell me that I've ‘got to talk about it'? ‘Deal with the guilt'? Tell me that ‘they're going to be all right'? Tell me to ‘pull myself together'?" he demanded, sweeping his arm in an arc and spilling most of his beer.
"Nah. I figger you've been psycho-analyzed enough for one day. You want another beer?" he asked matter-of-factly.
"Sure, thanks," Johnny answered, slightly surprised.
Smokey returned with two more beers. "Here you go," he said, handing Johnny another beer.
Johnny took a long swig. "Tell me, Smokey," he asked. "Anything like this ever happen to you?"
Smokey considered the question as he started on his second beer. "Well, not quite, but I've had more than my fair share of losing friends to injury."
Johnny put his beer down forcefully and grabbed Smokey's arm. "How the hell do you deal with it? I mean, these guys will be out of action for months. Mike," he gulped noisily, "Mike might never even have proper use of his arm again. How do you deal with a friend who might lose his career because of a stupid accident? What do you say to him? I...I don't know what to say..." he broke off, sobbing.
Smokey stood up and sat down beside Johnny. He placed his hand firmly on Gage's shoulder and said, "Johnny, believe me, it's not easy to deal with losing a job you love doing. I know that only too well. It's hard for the people who carry on, too, after one of their shift has to retire. You feel like you can't be friends the same way, as if the fact you're still doing the job your crewmate can't do any more is some sort of betrayal somehow. It's like there's almost a, oh I don't know, a barrier to the same kind of friendship and camaraderie you've always shared."
Johnny stared at him, his mouth dropping open, "That's it, Smokey, that's it eggzactly. How did you know?"
Smokey took a long pull of his beer and smiled wistfully, lost in a memory. "Well, Johnny, I've been on both sides of that little problem. Let me tell you this -- once a brother, always a brother. Or a sister, these days. Sure, things are awkward at first, but you all adjust. A few don't quite make it, though. Sometimes, it's just too awkward to be constantly reminded of the life you've lost. I was a proper bear when I had to retire! True friends are the ones who persist, despite the anger and the frustration they run into. And those are the friendships that really last."
Johnny looked at him thoughtfully. "So...if Mike and Hank can't....can't stay in fire fighting, I have to be patient and supportive? And put up with the bad moods and the cursing, and whatever comes along?"
Smokey nodded, and added, "And, above all, you've got to be more bull-headed than them, too. You think you're ready to crash, now, ‘cause I know I sure am."
Johnny looked at Smokey with renewed respect. "Yeah, I think so. Let me call a cab..."
Smokey shook his head. "I've got a cot in the other room. I've already talked to Roy, and he'll pick you up around ten tomorrow morning. He said he'd stop off at your place and bring some fresh clothes. That uniform you've got on is more than a little ripe for hospital visiting. You can still get a good six, maybe seven hours to sleep it off."
Johnny smiled crookedly as he staggered to the room. "You think of everything, Smokey. Thanks -- for everything. G'night."
He literally fell onto the bed, and was snoring in minutes. Smokey draped a blanket over him. "Good night, Sleeping Beauty. See you later, Gage."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Roy stopped by the Second Alarm precisely at ten o'clock. Smokey greeted him, saying, "Johnny's just gone into the shower, so your timing is perfect. I don't know if you'll be able to fit his head into your car, though. Want some coffee?"
Roy replied, "Yeah. Thanks, Smokey. I'll just drop these clothes in the back." He headed to the room and knocked on the bathroom door. "Johnny? I'm leaving some fresh clothes on the bed, okay?"
"Great. Thanks, Roy," came Johnny's muffled reply.
Roy returned to the bar and took the coffee from Smokey. "Thanks. Well, tell me, were you able to get through to him at all?"
Smokey said seriously, "I think so. I think he's scared that Mike and, to a lesser extent, Hank, may have to leave the department because of the injuries. He's afraid of having to deal with that. What's the latest word from Rampart? How are they all doing?"
"Well, let's see: Marco's resting as comfortably as you can in a partial body cast -- he'll be in physio as soon as the cast comes off. That should be in about four weeks, so he should be back at the station in about three months. Chet's still in ICU, but he should be moved to a room in a couple of days. If everything goes all right, he should be back in about six to eight weeks. Hank's still unconscious right now, but he's been upgraded to serious condition from critical. Since they operated and relieved the intercranial pressure, he's been improving steadily, and his vital signs have been stable for several hours now. Mike's still a question mark for the time being. They repaired all the internal damage. They had to remove his spleen, and there was a bit of damage to his stomach and liver, but they've stitched all that up. His arm is a different matter, though. It's broken in four places, and there was no circulation to the lower arm for nearly two hours. It's been pinned, and there are three plates in it as well. He's still pretty heavily sedated, so they won't really be able to assess the arm for a day or two."
"So he's still critical, then?" Johnny asked softly, as he poured himself some coffee.
Roy sighed. "Yeah, last I checked, but that was about three hours ago. You about ready to go, Junior?" he asked, putting down his coffee cup.
"Yeah, just let me get some coffee in me." He took a gulp, and nearly spit it out. "Jeez, Smokey, what the hell is in this stuff?"
Smokey looked innocently at Johnny. Roy choked and coughed as he tried to smother a laugh -- he had seen Smokey add a double amount of coffee to the pot after he and Roy had taken their cups. "Gee, Johnny, do you think it might have been all that beer last night affecting your taste buds?"
Johnny looked at him suspiciously. He tried the coffee again, then shuddered and put down the mug. "Sorry, Smokey, I just can't stomach that." He glared at Roy, who had broken out in gales of laughter. "I guess it's time to go, Smokey. Thanks for everything," he said, shaking Smokey's hand.
"No problem, Gage. A word of advice, though," he said, taking in Johnny's bleary eyes. "Try having a few less beers next time -- maybe stop at six."
Johnny rubbed his temples, smiled ruefully and answered, "You've got a deal, Smokey, as long as you don't try to make any more coffee. Look, thanks again. We'll see you later."
"So long, fellahs."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As they settled into Roy's car, Roy handed Johnny a paper bag. "Here you go, pal, compliments of JoAnne. One breakfast to go. You had us worried last night, you know. How are you?"
Johnny munched on the Danish and took a swig of the orange juice. "Thanks, Roy, and thank JoAnne for me, too. I guess I was pretty awful yesterday. Sorry about that -- I guess I just needed a bit of time. I only heard your update on Mike. How are the others doing?"
Roy repeated what he had told Smokey. As they pulled into the parking lot at Rampart, Johnny mused aloud, "Boy, I guess I owe a few more people an apology, huh?"
Roy said, "Oh, I think everyone understands. It was a pretty terrible day, yesterday."
"Yeah, but I still need to talk to Cassie, anyway. I was really awful to her last night. Let's check in with Dixie."
They approached the base station, where Dixie was on the radio. She waved them to the waiting area as she said, "10-4, Squad 45. Continue monitoring and transport as soon as possible." She called to Roy and Johnny, "I'll be with you in a couple of minutes, fellahs." She went to prepare a treatment room for Squad 45's patient. She was back in five minutes to talk to them.
"Okay, before you ask, here's the situation: Marco's conscious, and would love to have visitors. Chet's still sedated, but he's doing really well; in fact, we're going to try taking him off the respirator this evening. Captain Stanley regained consciousness briefly about half an hour ago, but he's sleeping now. Sandi is with him. He's still up in the ICU, as are Chet and Mike. Mike's still pretty much out of it. The orthopedic surgeon is up there now, doing a couple of tests. Peggy's there, and she could sure use a couple of friendly faces."
"Thanks, Dix. We'll start with Marco, and then go up to ICU. Is, um, is Cassie here?" asked Johnny.
"She was earlier, but I think she stepped out for a few minutes. She'll definitely be back. You know, she and Chet may put on an act about not getting along all the time, but they sure are there for each other when it counts. Look, I have to go now, but I'll see you guys later."
"Ready, Junior?" asked Roy.
"You bet, Pally," answered Johnny as they headed to the elevator.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"That's great, Marco. Listen, we're going to go check on the others right now, but we'll stop by on our way out and let you know how they're doing, okay?" said Roy, as he and Johnny headed for the door to Marco's room.
"Thanks, guys. And Johnny, watch out for Smokey's ‘Hangover Special'," Marco joked.
"Ha, ha, Marco. See you later," Johnny replied.
As they approached the ICU, they could see Sandi Stanley and Peggy Stoker talking excitedly to each other. They broke off as Johnny and Roy arrived. "Hey, fellahs," said Sandi, "Did you hear? Hank and Mike are both conscious, and it looks like they're going to be okay!" Peggy broke in with, "And Mike's got feeling in his hand already! We can't thank you two enough for everything you did for them."
"That's terrific!" said Johnny, smiling broadly. "Can we go see them?" he asked Dr. Early, who had just exited the ICU.
"Well, one at a time, and for a couple of minutes only. They need a lot of rest right now. They're both improving remarkably, and they've both been downgraded to ‘serious' condition, but they've still got a long way to go," answered Joe.
"Any idea how long before they'll be back at work, Doc?" asked Roy cautiously.
"It's hard to tell. Chet should be back in about two months, Marco in three. With Mike, assuming there are no complications from the abdominal surgery or the breaks in his arm, we figure three, maybe four months. With Hank, it's really hard to determine. We'll be keeping close tabs on him for the next week or so, at least. He's certainly got a severe concussion, and the recovery time from that kind of an injury is unpredictable. As well, we want to be absolutely sure that there's no further injury to the brain. The bleeding yesterday was from contusions, and that seems to be under control. There's still a bit of swelling, so we've still got him sedated. He should wake every so often, though. If all goes well, Hank might be back in a couple of months," answered Joe.
Roy nodded and consulted with Johnny. "Okay, if you want to see Mike first, I'll see Hank and then we can switch over in five...?" he looked at Joe for permission. Joe nodded. "Okay, in five minutes. Then we can both torment Chet for a bit, if he's conscious."
"Sounds like a plan, Roy," confirmed Johnny. "Doc," he asked, "Do they know everything that happened? I mean, are there some questions that we shouldn't answer?"
Joe shook his head. "No, fellahs, they know as much as we all do. We decided that they were all strong enough to know all that has happened, especially since we can't really control what the television or newspapers will report. Just don't tire them out too much, and don't be surprised if they're not really ‘with it', okay?"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Johnny stopped by Mike's bed. "Mike?" he said tentatively, "Can you hear me?" Receiving no answer, he fixed his gaze on Mike's left arm. It was supported from above by some slings, attached by pulleys to a bar along the side of the bed. Johnny stared in horrified fascination a the complicated casting encircling Mike's arm. There appeared to be a strange kind of hinge at the elbow, connecting casts on the upper and lower arms. Johnny was startled out of his reverie by Mike's voice.
"Looks awful, doesn't it?" he whispered. "It feels awful, too," he said with a slight smile, "But at least I can feel it, so I should be able to use it again. Thanks for everything, Johnny, especially for getting us all out. When that road crumbled away, I though we were going to die."
"Well, I'm sure glad to see you in the land of the living. Man, yesterday was too much," Johnny commented.
"Yeah..." Mike's eyes closed as he drifted back into sleep.
"See you later, Mike," Johnny said as he quietly left. He met Roy in the hallway. "Mike's gone back to sleep," Johnny said.
"Yeah, Cap has too," answered Roy. "He still has a terrific headache, which is no surprise at all. He doesn't remember anything after telling Marco and Chet to bail. We can come by later, maybe they'll be conscious by then. Let's go check on Chet, huh?"
"Good idea. I need to talk to Cassie, anyway," said Johnny.
They headed down the hallway. As they approached Chet's bed, they saw Cassie leaning toward the bed. She turned to them with an evil grin, gestured to them to approach but to keep silent, and leaned back to the bed.
"Che---et," she said in a sing-song voice, "I've got a present for you." She pulled an open can of ‘Lucky's chicken broth' and waved it under his nose. Johnny and Roy nearly choked trying not to laugh as Chet reacted.
"Cassie! Get that... stuff away!" he gasped. "C'mon, sis, I'm... a sick man, here," he whined.
It was too much for the paramedics. They all laughed at Cassie's unusual smelling salts. Johnny chimed in, "Hey, Chet, at least you'll soon have more than one choice of food. How are you feeling, anyway?"
"Jeez, Gage,...I don't know...like I got thrown....from a truck?" Chet tried to sound angry, but he was too tired. He glared at Cassie as she burst into a gale of laughter.
Johnny said, "Hey, Cassie, can I talk to you for a minute?"
She looked at Chet, made a face at him, and said, "Sure, Johnny. We'll be right back, Chet."
"Take...your time. Roy is ...about all...the company...I can...stand right now," Chet answered petulantly.
When they were outside the ICU, Cassie said, "Well, what did you want to talk to me about, Johnny?"
He twisted his toe into the ground, looking embarrassed. "Look, Cassie -- I'm sorry about how I acted last night. I said some pretty stupid things that I didn't really mean."
"Hey, no problem, Johnny. I told you, I understand. You don't see as much horrible things as we do and become immune to pain and suffering -- especially when it's our own brothers and sisters who are the ones hurt. You say things in the heat of the moment that you don't really mean. It's forgotten. I take it you've managed to deal with your own demons, right?" asked Cassie.
"Yeah, you might say Smokey helped ‘raise my spirits'," he said with a crooked smile.
"Johnny, I'll forgive last night, but I sure won't forgive that pun! ‘Raise my spirits', indeed. I think you ought to be hooked up to some machinery for that one. Preferably something that involves a lot of tubes in various orifices. Let's go torment my brother some more, okay?" she said, slapping Johnny on the back as she headed back to Chet's room.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Three months later, with the conniving of Roy, Johnny, and the ‘C' shift for Station 51, there were a couple of surprises waiting for the first time ‘A' shift was back on the job together. First, there was a fire engine-shaped cake saying, "Welcome Back" in the lounge. Second, there was a big green ribbon around the new fire engine, with a sign attached to the driver's door that read, "Mike's Wrecking Service". Third, and something that wasn't obvious until bed time, all of the pillows had little mint on them -- and all of the beds had been short-sheeted. As Johnny and Roy heard the furious yells of discovery, they smiled at each other. It was good to have the whole family back together again.
