The Love That Remains
by srk51@juno.com
For Allie

(Author's note: I've been told that this story is a bit on the unusual side of the E! coin, but still knowing that, I'm going jump into the deep end of the pool and hope that the waters warm. Hope you enjoy.

The title of this story (and much more) is inspired a song by Colin Raye entitled 'Love Remains'. If the song is unfamiliar, you might wish to check it out.)

 

"Morning, Johnny," came the greeting in turn from Roy, Captain Stanley and then Mike as they strolled into the kitchen and went to the cupboard to get their coffee cups.

 

"Oh. Morning, guys," John called from the couch where he was sitting with Henry.

 

"You’re here awfully early this morning," The captain mentioned, one corner of his mouth twitching to a quick grin as he identified which cup was his by the saying on it. "THE CAPTAIN IS ALWAYS RIGHT, THAT'S WHY."

 

"Yeah. Mark's wife went into labor last night about 2am. So they called me to see if I could cover." John explained. "I'm kinda surprised they didn't call to let you know."

 

"They might have tried, but when I got up this morning the phone was off the hook. It must have gotten knocked over somehow," the captain said, as the station phone started ringing.

 

"I'll get it."

 

"I just hope things slow down a little today. I'm already beat." John got up from the couch to get a cup of coffee of his own, but took the one Roy had poured for himself.

 

"Thanks, Roy".

 

Roy stared at his empty hand for a moment before reaching for another cup. "No problem."

 

*********

 

This is going to be a great day. Chet pulled into the back parking lot. During the last shift the war between the '"Phantom" and his "Pigeon" had escalated to the extreme. Chet winced, recalling how things had not gone exactly as planned. The prank had work perfectly except for the fact it had been Captain Stanley instead of Johnny who had been caught in the middle of a large quantity of molasses and a container of flour.

 

But today was a new day. Scanning the parking lot, he saw Marco, holding the bag that he was asked to bring. But Marco was waiting next to a Land Rover that wasn't supposed to be here, yet.

 

Chet parked his car and jumped out to meet Marco half way to the door. "What's Johnny doing here already? He's early! He's never early! Were you able to get the stuff from your cousin? She didn't ask too many questions, did she? How are we going to get this set up if..?" Chet rambled on as Marco interrupted.

 

"I don't know why he's here early. Yes, I got your stuff. No, Maria didn't ask too many questions but she did make a reference to an uncle that the family really never mentions much. And I know you wanted to set this up this morning but you might have to wait until later. Now we have to get changed for work." Marco turned and pulled open the door as he shoved the bag at Chet.

 

*********

 

"I thought Mark's wife wasn't due for another three weeks," Roy remarked. "I don't think he even has the baby room finished yet."

 

"Well," Mike said knowingly, "you've delivered enough babies to know as well as anyone that they're not very good at checking calendar dates."

 

"Yeah, Roy. Remember that lady who gave birth in her back yard last week? She was in labor, but didn't believe it because she wasn't due for another month," John commented as he watched Chet and Marco come through the door followed by Dwyer, who went to the couch. He sat down next to Henry and began scratching the Basset Hound's ears. "Hey, Chet, Marco."

 

"Hey, Johnny. What are you doing here? It's 7:30am. Roll call's not till 8, so you shouldn't be tearing in here for at least another...oh...28 minutes." Roy took a sip of his coffee to cover his smile at Chet's comment. Chet was starting his shift without missing a beat from the last.

 

"Ha, ha," John scoffed as the captain walked back to the group. "I bet you had to have Marco help you on the math for that one."

 

"Well, guys, it's a girl," the captain beamed. "Mark's wife had an eight and a half-pound girl at 6:13 this morning."

 

Smiles and "all rights" were shared around the room at the good news. In their profession, they saw so many unpleasant events that the miracle of new life was one that was very welcome.

 

Mark Mendez had only been married for about a year and became a paramedic a little over six months ago. He wasn't assigned a permanent partner yet, so he was pretty well known because he got bounced around between stations and shifts. Still, on average he spent more time at the station 51 than any other, so everyone knew how excited he was waiting for his first child to arrive.

 

"You know, we talked about this before, but now that the baby's arrived early, we really ought to get serious about what we're going to do for them," Marco put in, looking around the room to see everyone nodding in agreement. "Any ideas?"

 

"That's easy," John said with a wave of his hand. "Roy just told us that Mark hasn't had time to finish the nursery room yet. We have the next two shifts off; we just meet at his place and help finish it."

 

"Oh, yeah, Gage." Chet sarcastically called from the coffeepot. "That's a good one. Don't you remember how much fun we had at the service project that nurse from Rampart set us up on? You hurt your back, I got my foot run over by a wheelbarrow full of cement."

 

"Well, then you come up with a better idea," John said defensively.

 

"I think that's a good idea, John." Mike actually spoke up for John. "I'll need to get with Beth. We had plans, but we should be able to change them."

 

"Thanks, Mike." John looked around to his other co-workers. "What about you guys?"

 

The tones sounded but not before John noticed several nods.

 

John threw Chet a triumphant glare as he and Roy ran out the door.

 

'Oh yes.' thought Chet, he and Marco sharing a quick glance. 'A very good day.'

 

Dwyer got up to leave. "I think John had a good idea but whatever you guys decide let me know. I may want in. Okay?"

 

"Sure thing. I'll give you a call." Cap called as Dwyer left. Everyone else filed out into the bay for roll call as the engine pulled in from its run.

 

*********

 

C’mon, Chet! Hurry up, will you?" Marco hissed from his lookout at the locker room door. At first, he didn't know what Chet was going to do with what he brought that morning, but now that it was becoming clear he wasn't too sure he wanted to be helping. "If Cap walks in, we'll both have latrine duty until he retires."

 

"Patience Marco. You can't rush the Phantom. This has to be done juuust right...There!" Chet smiled as he slowly withdrew his hands and backed away from Gage's locker. Then he reached out and gently shut it. Marco came over and they quickly left the room through the dorm door just as the captain stuck his head in.

 

"Marco, Chet?" he called out, sniffing as he thought he caught a slight whiff of an odd odor. He went back out in search of Mutt and Jeff. Hmmm. What are those two up to?

 

*********

 

"I just don't get it, Roy. Why would someone want to do something like that? It's just plain dangerous and it doesn't accomplish anything. People just don't think. Then they get stuck and have to call us to come get them out."

 

Chet could hear John's complaining all the way in the dorm. He came out, walking around the front of the engine, to see if he could do something to "help". "So what's going on, guys?" he asked as he walked up. Quickly backing away when the stench of vomit reached him, Chet grimaced. "Peehew, Johnny, you smell worse than usual, buddy."

 

John was just about to make a grab for Chet when the rest of the guys came in from the back door into the apparatus bay. When he saw the Captain, he thought better of it.

 

"We just had a run with a teenage wannabe contortionist," Roy started to explain as he leaned over the front of the squad. "He saw a show on TV the other night about a six-foot tall guy who could fold himself into a two-foot square box. The kid squeezed himself into a small vault and shut it. It was airtight. By the time we got it open, he had run out of oxygen. When we put him on O2 and got him breathing again, he started to aspirate. And..."

 

"...And Gage there got it all. Right?" Chet finished, grinning ear to ear.

 

Roy nodded as he came around the front of the vehicle. He tried to hide his amusement, but was having a hard time of it. He'd had his share of getting thrown up on. "Well, actually, Chet, he wasn't all that close to the kid. I don't think I've ever seen anyone hurl that far," Roy continued, motioning the distance that the kid's lunch had traveled. 'Sorry Junior, I can't resist,' he thought as John's eyes burned holes through him. Everyone was sent into snorts and chuckles at the vision that was being described.

 

"Thanks, Roy," John sneered. "Now if you all don't mind, I think I need to go change before we get another call." He walked toward the back of the engine to the locker room. Cap and the others kept a good distance. They heard him mumble something about Cheetos as he went through the door.

 

Just then Chet ran past everyone and stood just outside of the locker room door. Marco, trying not to look too suspicious, followed close behind. Everyone else just followed out of curiosity.

 

"What's going on?" Mike asked.

 

"SHHHH!" Chet and Marco both shushed at the same time. Two seconds later a "TOOIINNGG!" was heard, followed by a whooshing, splattering noise.

 

"AHHHHHHHHHH! CHET!" A moment of silence went by. "NOOOOOOOO! CHET, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

 

"Well, guys, I've got some hose to hang." Chet bid a hasty retreat while everyone else ran for the locker room to see what damage the Phantom had done this time.

 

The vomit smell still lingered, but was overwhelmed by another odor. Perfume. That, mingled with the first smell was nauseating, and John stood in the middle of it dripping with it. His eyes flashed with anger as he quickly started stripping off his uniform and watched as the guys run in. He was looking for the person who was going to be solely responsible for his internment into the penal system.

 

"AGH!" came the simultaneous exclamation from the group as they retreated right back out of the room and scattered in all directions.

 

Roy lingered a little closer than the others. Mostly out of guilt. After all, he was supposed to be John's best friend. I should at least stick my head in and ask if he's all right. But, that smell...

 

After a minute the Captain sheepishly walked up to him. "Um. Roy."

 

"Yeah, Cap?" He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around. He knew what was coming.

 

Cap rubbed at the tension in his neck. "Why don't you, um, go in there and see how John is, um, doing."

 

"Why me, Cap? I mean, you're the Captain and all."

 

"Yeah, well, he's your partner and it's because I'm the Captain that I get to delegate. Besides, I have to go talk to the Phantom." With that he hurried out the back of the building.

Roy stared at the door willing himself to go in. C’mon, he's your partner. You'd run without a second thought into the smoke and flames of a burning building for him. It's only perfume...and puke. He went up to the door and looked through the window at John who was changing so fast that he fell to the floor when his leg got caught in his pants leg. (Roy winced) His partner stayed on the floor to finish putting them on. "I can't do it," Roy said out loud. Just then he saw John push himself up, grab at his shoes, socks and belt, and run toward the door. Roy quickly spun off, then turned back to make it look like he was heading toward the locker room to help his friend, when John came bursting through, gasping for breath, shirt half on. "I, ah, was just coming in to see how you were doing" Roy fumbled, trying not to pay attention to the gust of foul smelling air that came out with John. The new uniform had gotten its fair share of dousing also.

 

Standing behind the engine and buttoning his shirt, John shot Roy a look of sarcasm. "Uh huh. Well, thanks, Pally." Then taking a few quick, deep breaths, he declared, "I'm going to get that guy!" Stabbing a finger in the direction of the hose tower, he vowed, "I am going to get him!" He craned his body to yell out the bay door, veins visible on his neck. "You hear me, Chet?! I'm going to get you!" John moved as Roy walked over and sat a respectable smelling distance away on the back of the engine, exercising the better part of valor. His presence offering support as he watched his friend mutter to himself.

 

Still dressing in a maniac like frenzy, John plopped himself down next to Roy, who discreetly moved away. He started putting on a sock and redirected his attention back to Roy. "I'm going to get him. I swear, Roy. Even if it takes me till my dying day, I'm going to GET him."

 

*********

Captain Stanley found Chet hiding out in the hose tower, pretending to be completely absorbed by the hose he was inspecting. It took the Captain a few moments to prepare himself. The look on Gage's face was classic. No. He tried not to think about it as he walked to the tower.

 

"Chet, you want to come down here?" Chet knew it was an order, not a request and yet he seemed to be taking forever to follow it.

 

"Yeah, Cap? Did you want to talk to me?" Chet kept his eyes on the ground, kicking at a small pebble.

 

"Did I want to talk to you? Kelly, that's got to be the dumbest..!" Hank held up his hands and waved in a halting motion to stop himself from getting caught up in a tirade. "Okay. First," he started to count on his fingers, "You're are going to finish inspecting this hose. Second, you're going to air out and remove or wipe down anything that smells of that...that stuff. Third, I don't know to what extent Marco was involved in this, but I know he was, so he's going to be helping you."

 

Great! Chet shuffled his feet nervously. He didn't mind getting punished. It was worth it for a shot at the Pigeon, but he hadn't wanted Marco to get into trouble. HE was the Phantom. It was HIS idea. The Captain's voice broke through Chet's thoughts.

 

"...And just how did you get that much perfume, anyway?" He sounded really mad. Chet chanced a look up, squirming.

 

"Well, um, the other day Marco was trying to decide what to buy his girlfriend for her birthday next week and I suggested maybe some, um, perfume. Women love that stuff, ya know?" He looked up, trying for a grin but got the Captain's stern look. He had to clear his throat to continue. "Well, um, Marco then made the comment about how his cousin, Maria, had gotten perfume for gifts so many times that she didn't know what to do with it all. She'd use about half of it, and then it would sit in a drawer, or closet, or somewhere. So I asked him to get Maria to collect it all and had him bring it in. Then I poured all the brands into the container instead of water. Honest, Cap, Marco had no idea what I was going to do with it when I asked him to bring it in. It was my plan. Don't punish him."

 

"Kelly..." He looked around, trying to stay composed. He stared as he spotted Henry slowly wobbling his way out to the back parking lot, vacating his beloved couch for some fresh air. Cap hung his head and with a dismissive wave of his arm, he sighed. "Just...finish the hose and get to airing out the station. I've got to call everyone from the other shifts and tell them to bring a clean uniform with them when they come in because the ones they left here smell like ladies perfume." The last part of the sentence was said with a slight eye roll, a distinctly feminine shift of his head and sissy voice. With that he turned and walked off. Looking back around as he entered the bay, he added an afterthought, "Oh, and Kelly? You have latrine duty for the next four weeks." He then continued on to find Marco and make his calls, slowing for a moment to watch Roy do an about-face toward the locker room just as John came gasping through the door. I’m surrounded by crazy people. He continued passed his two paramedics and headed for the kitchen. But I wouldn't trade them for all the gold in the world. He smiled then stopped and thought again with a shake of his head. OK, well, at times, maybe I'd trade Chet.

 

Just then the tones sounded. "Station 51, Squad 36, gang fight. Police are on the scene..."

 

Cap went to acknowledge the call as Roy came around and jumped into the driver’s seat of the squad.

 

Chet grinned evilly as he ran into the bay just in time to see Marco and Mike run from kitchen, come round the back of the squad, and awkwardly collide right into John who was hopping along, trying to finish putting on his left sock while holding a shoe under his right arm. They tried to grab John to keep him from falling, but he went sprawling face first to the ground, his shoe flying under the engine. He waved them on, telling them he was okay and with a grunt, dove under the engine to retrieve his shoe. He grabbed it, then jumped up and scurried into the passengers seat. Roy handed over the address slip and pulled the squad into the street, followed by the engine blaring its horn.

 

*********

 

They saw the large crowd of curious onlookers before they could actually see the location of their call. The police had put up yellow tape to block off the entryway to a dead end alleyway.

 

Roy stopped the squad as close as he could, then he jumped out and met John at the compartments to pull out their gear. Captain Stanley and the rest of the engine crew came over and helped to carry the equipment under the barrier and to the alley. There were officers, wearing heavy gear to dissuade onlookers from getting in the way.

 

Vince and another officer came walking up to them. They had blood on their hands, with splatters on their arms and faces.

 

"Vince! Are you guys okay?" Roy asked as they ran up to the two officers. "What happened?"

 

"We're fine; it's not our blood. They're going to need your help down the alley, though. Squad 8's already in there. Mac and I were holding onto some bleeders until help got here."

"OK, well as long as you're all right." Roy called back as they headed toward the battle zone.

 

As they walked away, Vince and Mac looked around and sniffed. They sniffed at their own uniforms, then looked at each other and sniffed at each other. "Peehew! What was that?" Mac asked Vince.

 

"I don't know, but at least it's gone now. Let's go get cleaned up." Vince said, still sniffing the air as they walked away.

 

*********

 

Inside the alley, it took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the darker lighting. The sun was beginning to set, so it was going to get even darker. Cap had Stoker go out to the truck and get some lights to put up, while the medical gear was set up in the middle of all the mayhem.

 

"What ya got, Murphy?" John asked as he dropped down next to half of Eight's paramedic team.

 

"Hey, John, Roy. It's pretty bad. Two fatalities." Murphy nodded farther down the alley at two yellow covers that could barely be seen among all the trash and the dimming light. "Carter has a stabbing victim stabilized over there and this one here has a pretty bad head wound and also some knife wounds. I just got the bleeding stopped and the IV's set up. There's one up against the far wall on the other side of that dumpster. He's really banged up but wasn't as bad as these two. The rest are some minor first aid stuff I think. Ambulances are on their way."

 

"Good deal" John got up, grabbed some of the gear and started toward the dead-end wall.

 

"Cap," Roy began as he pulled out a handful of things he might need and handed the box with the bandages to the Captain. "Murphy said that the rest of these guys just need some general first aid. Could you take care of that? Johnny and I are going to take care of this guy down here. If you run into anything serious, let us know." Hank nodded and took the box, looking around at the other not-so-tough-anymore gang members, who were sitting around nursing some nasty cuts and bruises. Roy picked up the rest of the equipment and headed after John as Mike started dragging some portable lights into the alley.

 

John was already kneeling next to the man's right checking for pupil reaction as Roy came up and knelt to the man's left. His face, neck and shirt were covered with blood running from a deep cut right at his hairline. He wasn't unconscious, but seemed to be dazed, becoming more coherent as his vital were being taken.

 

John put down the BP cuff and grabbed the biophone as Roy started cleaning off the blood around the cut to get a better look. "Mister?" Roy leaned into his line of sight to get his attention. "Are you hurt anywhere else beside that cut on your head?"

 

"Cut?" The man tried to focus on Roy, then looked down at the blood on his shirt. Roy caught the man's hand as it went to his head. "Aw, man! Look what they did. Just wait till I get another chance at those guys." The guy looked back to Roy, still not completely focused. " Ahhhh...what was the question?"

 

"Are you hurt anywhere else besides your head?" Roy repeated.

 

The man was silent for a moment while he moved his arms and legs around. "No, I don't think so. I've got a bit of a headache. But..." the man continued when Roy gave him a questioning look. "Well, I know this is going to sound really strange, but..." He lowered his voice. "I smell perfume. You know, lady's perfume. I must be having hallucinations or something."

 

Roy looked down, and, keeping his head down, peeked over at John, who was squatting down next to the biophone, his lips pressed together. He noticed John shift his weight from his left leg to his right, in an attempt to put a little more distance between himself and the man.

 

After taking a moment, John spoke into the phone. "Rampart, this is Squad 51, do you read?" He looked around, keeping an eye on the situation going on around them.

"Go ahead, 51, we read you." Dr. Early's voice came out of the speaker on the set.

 

"Rampart, we have a male, approximately 21 years old. Victim of a gang fight. He's got a deep laceration at the hairline. That bleeding is under control. The patient is also complaining of a headache. He seems to be having a hard time focusing visually and is mildly disoriented. Vitals are as follows. BP is 120 over 80. Pulse 91. Respiration 32. Pupils are equal and reactive."

 

"Man, don't you smell that?" The man moved his head around, sniffing.

 

"Sir, were going to get you taken care of, you just relax, okay?" Roy leaned over to get the medication that he could hear Rampart ordering.

 

John hung up the biophone, saw that Roy had heard the doctor's instructions, then looked down to the entrance of the alley. Blinking through the bright lights, he saw Murphy loading up his patient to take him to the hospital and assumed that Carter must have already left, so the next ride was theirs. The engine crew was gone, also. They had received a call to assist with a building fire.

 

As the gurney was wheeled up, one of the officers came up to the group. He stopped about three feet from John. An odd look crossed his face.

 

"Did you need us for something?" John stared hard, daring the officer to say something but not really sure what he do if something was said.

 

"Um, well, I have a man over here. Just got himself slammed into the wall by another prisoner. Do you have time to take a look at him before we transport?" The policeman fidgeted slowly away from the smell coming from the paramedic as he talked.

 

John turned to Roy. "I'm going to go check the guy out. Do you need me?"

 

"No, you go ahead. I’ll be alright with him. See you at Rampart." Roy helped the attendants lift the patient onto the gurney. As he tightened the straps, he watched the policeman lead John back out of the alley, being sure to stay far enough ahead.

 

*********

 

The guy was massive. Even the huge policeman next to him would have had trouble if it weren't for the handcuffs. John couldn't help but look around to see who it was that could have shoved someone this large into a wall. He followed the first officer over to the mountain of a man, who was leaning on a car. When they got there, the second officer left.

The first officer hadn't wanted to stand too close but now he didn't have a choice. He couldn't leave John alone with the prisoner, but...man, the smell was strong. And it was a lady's smell, not even a man's. Could this guy be...? He took an extra step back.

 

"Okay, Sir. What's your name?" John couldn't get over how big this person was.

 

"Digger. What's yours, pretty boy?" His breath smelled of alcohol and marijuana, as did his clothes. His teeth, what there were left of them, were stained and had bits of food in them. The combination of the aromas between the two men made the officer take another small step back.

 

"Digger. Are you hurt anywhere?" John stepped closer to check for any cuts or bruises that might need treatment.

 

Digger stood up to his full height, ignoring the question, and stared down at John. "You know, you sure do smell pretty. I sure could use a sweet smelling bitch where I'm going." Then before anyone knew what was happening, Digger pushed away from the car, taking John across the sidewalk and pinning him hard against the wall. Within moments there were other bodies rushing toward the two.

 

Finally the pressure was relieved from John as Digger was pulled off, kicking, screaming and flicking his tongue at John. "Come on, pretty boy. You know you want it. Just visit me anytime." Then he moved his hips suggestively as the police tried to muscle him into the back of a squad car.

 

John sunk to the ground, trying to catch his breath. You just wait, Chet. This is all your fault.

 

After Digger was put in the car, one of the officers came over to help John off the ground. "Are you all right? You’re not hurt?

 

"No, I'm fine," John said slowly getting to his feet. "Just got the wind knocked out of me, that's all."

 

"Okay. But just in case, you might want to get checked out."

 

"Nah, I'm alright. But thanks anyway." John started walking toward the squad.

 

"You're welcome." The cop said, a large smile breaking out across his face. "Oh and ah..." John turned around. "You know Digger was right. You really do smell pretty." A wave of laughter moved through the officers.

 

"Oh, ha ha. Don't give up your day job, pal." John got into the squad, listening to the laughter fade behind him. "You’re going to get yours, Chet."

 

*********

 

Rampart had been a madhouse, but with the last patient from that gang fight being sent up to observation, Dixie finally had time to catch up on the paperwork that went with the job. She'd just about finished, when she looked up and saw John Gage sauntering down the hallway toward the nurses station. She noticed his distraction every time a pretty nurse crossed his path. Dixie looked back at her paperwork to hide her smile. She had a soft spot for most of the paramedics in the department but she had to admit that Roy and John were special. Roy, with his dry humor often displayed by a quick glance that could speak volumes, and his quiet patience, was at one end of the personality spectrum. John, with his quick wit was an endless source of energy and optimism was on the other end.

 

Dixie could remember the paramedic training class that she and Dr. Brackett had taught before the Wedsworth-Townsend Act had passed. She would never forget the "fight or flight" look Johnny tried to hide, or the look of amusement on Roy's face as Roy prepared to demonstrate how to use a hypodermic needle on the trainee. She believed it was at that moment that these men captured her heart and eventually became two of her closest friends.

 

"Hey, Dix, how's it going?" Johns greeting brought her out of her reminiscing and then an overwhelming odor brought her out of her seat. Johns smile quickly faded. He looked away and then back again becoming self-conscience at her reaction. "Oh. Sorry. I guess I've just gotten used to it."

 

"What happened to you?" Dixie resisted the urge to wave her hand in front of her face.

 

John leaned against the desk, folding his arms and dropping his head in despair. He wished desperately for a shower. At least he wouldn't have to wear his uniform once it was time for bed. He'd be able to just wear his turnout gear if they got a call. "It's a long story, Dix. Compliments of the "Phantom," he tilted his head up at her as he spoke.

"Chet," she said simply. At his nod, she shook her head. She could tell he was becoming depressed so she changed the subject. "Hey, you know Roy’s upstairs visiting the Mendez’ and their new baby. Why don't you go on up?"

 

John brightened at the thought. "Yeah. That's a good idea." His face sagged again. "Then again, I don't think they'd want me smelling up their room. Maybe I'll just go up and look at the little girl through the nursery window." John turned around and headed down the hall. "Thanks, Dix. I’ll see ya later."

 

"See ya, John." Dix sympathetically watched him walk away.

 

*********

 

"Wasn't she the cutest little thing?" Murphy was all smiles as the elevator doors closed. "And all that hair."

 

Carter pushed the down button. "Yeah, she was adorable. She sure did have a set of lungs on her, too."

 

Murphy smiled as he thought about his first child. He couldn't see how a set of lungs so small could draw in enough air to release such volume.

 

Before he said anything, the elevator doors opened up. He stepped out first and ran right into John.

 

"Hey again, John." He suddenly took a quick side step around John. "Eeewww! What happened to you?" He had smelled that odor at the scene, but at the time thought it was something in the alley.

 

"Don't ask." John growled.

 

"Don't tell me-- Kelly." John may be the Phantom's favorite Pigeon but not his only. The Phantom was also known for striking at probies and subs. Murphy remembered his short time as a sub on the A shift at 51's. "Beats me how you can put up with him full time."

 

John pushed into the elevator, making Carter skirt around him. "Believe me, Murph, there are times when a transfer looks really good. I'll see you later, guys." He leaned against one of the walls as the doors shut.

 

Murphy and Carter looked at each other as they started down the hall. A look of amusement shot across Murphy's face as he remembered something. "Um, Carter? Aren't you subbing for Marco at 51's in two weeks?"

 

Carter started to look nervous as they pushed the doors open and exited the building. "Yeah. I wonder if it's too late to schedule a vacation of my own?"

 

*********

 

John got off the elevator and headed to where the newborn babies were kept. He looked through the window at the row of cribs, looking for the one that read "Mendez" on the nametag. There it was on the front row, second from the right. It was empty.

 

"Ahh...excuse me. Nurse?" He stuck just his head inside the nursery door. "Do you know when the Mendez baby will be returned to its crib? Are they running some tests or something?"

 

"No. No tests." The nurse looked oddly at John. "I believe she's with her mother. Second door to the right at the end of the hall."

 

"Thanks." John shut the door and headed down the hall. Man...maybe I can just peek through the door and get a look.

 

He stopped at the door but unfortunately it was closed. He was wondering how he was going to open it to look in without anyone spotting him when the door abruptly opened. Roy was on his way out, followed by Mark. They were surprised to see John standing in the hallway.

 

"I'll be right back." Mark quickly went down the hall.

 

"Where’s he going?" Asked John.

 

"He's got to go to the airport to pick up his in-laws," Roy explained. They stood in silence for a moment. Roy knew John was reluctant to come into the room. Since getting thrown-up on, John’s day had gone gradually down hill. "Hey, Junior. Have you seen the new arrival yet? Come on in."

 

"Oh, umm..." John stammered, "Well, you know...considering what the Phantom did, I wasn't sure I should."

 

"Johnny, don't be ridiculous. I'm sure Laura would love to see you." Roy pulled John inside the room. "Besides, I already told them about the Phantom's prank." Roy just shrugged when John threw him a nasty look.

 

They went over to the young woman holding a small bundle in her arms. Laura Mendez looked up. "Hi John. I see Roy caught you before you two had to leave." She caught a whiff and looked at Roy. Roy was right. This Chet guy really did a number on Johnny. She noticed the same look of tension on John’s face that she'd seen on her husband's face more times then she could ever count, so she decided not to tease him. "Would you like to hold her, Johnny?"

 

"Well, no, really, I shouldn't...with all the, um...ah, could I?" he ended smiling sheepishly.

 

Laura carefully lifted the baby and gave her to John. He held her close as he sat down in the chair next to the bed. Look at all that hair and she's soooo tiny. The little hands poking out of the blanket didn't even go half way around his finger as he brushed up against the small palm. "What's her name?"

 

"We named her Amy" She looked at John. Looking at him, it seems so odd that someone who sees the things he sees everyday could have such a tenderness about him. She looked at Roy.

 

"Thank you," Roy mouthed to her.

 

For the moment, John’s rotten day was forgotten and all there was in the world was this little, beautiful gift. "Well, hello, Amy," John took his finger and gently touched the soft new skin on her cheek. "Look at you. You’re already a heartbreaker and you’re not even out of the hospital yet." Amy's mouth opened wide with a huge yawn. John's heart melted. He hugged her close, wanting to just absorb this feeling for as long as possible.

 

Unfortunately, the spell was broken when the HT squawked. "Squad 51, are you available?"

 

The sudden noise alarmed Amy and she promptly transformed from the cutest little baby into a red-faced screeching creature. John stood up and handed the screaming child back to her mother as Roy responded to the call.

 

"Gee, thanks," her voice held a light touch of sarcasm. She'd just gotten Amy calmed down from Murphy and Carter's visit.

 

"Well, we have to get going. Duty calls." Roy shrugged and looked apologetically at Laura as they left.

 

John turned as he followed Roy out the door. "See ya Laura..." he paused"...and thank you." With that he was gone.

 

*********

 

It was almost midnight when Roy finally backed the squad into the station. They'd been on three straight runs since they left Rampart. As soon as they'd start heading back to the station, another call would come in.

 

Roy noticed a definite improvement in John's mood since they left the hospital after visiting Laura. One of the three runs they had just been on was particularly gruesome, and it still bugged John when he heard comments about his perfumed smell, but the effect that little baby had had on him lingered.

 

The engine crew had already gone to bed, so they went quietly into the kitchen to get something to eat before they, too, settled in for the night. It was a busy day so as exhausted as they were, they were praying for a slower night. Particularly John, because he had been there since half a shift before.

 

"Roy, that was the cutest little baby." John poured himself a glass of milk and started picking at the cold leftovers from a dinner that he didn't even get a chance to see hot. "Even if the rest of you guys do something else for Mark and Laura, I'm going to help him work on the baby's room."

 

Roy sat next to him and helped pick at the leftovers. "Yeah, she was cute. And she sure brought you out of your bad mood." He chewed on a piece of chicken while he thought. "I'll tell you what. Let me talk to JoAnne, and I'll go with you when you help, okay?

 

"That would be great." The more he thought about the plans the more excited he was getting. "I've got some ideas for that baby room. Little Amy will love it."

 

Roy was glad to see his partner back to his normal, over eager self. "Well, before you start doing the work, you'd better talk with Mark and Laura. They just might have some plans of their own, being that it is their house after all." He smiled as he started putting the food away.

 

"You really think so?" John sounded so sincere, Roy had to look at him as they headed for the door.

 

"Let's get some sleep while we can, Junior." Roy turned out the kitchen light, shaking his head. There were times when his partner could be so innocently naive that Roy couldn't tell whether John was joking or not.

 

After showering and changing, they were finally able to climb into their beds. John relaxed, feeling better than he had since that kid threw up on him that morning. He looked over at his partner, who was staring at the ceiling lost in his own thoughts at the moment. Roy had been a comfort through the long, rotten day. If Roy hadn't pulled him into the hospital room, he would have stayed out in that hallway feeling sorry for himself and never would have met Amy. Roy also never said one word about the smell in the squad either, even if he did lean closer to the open window than usual. John couldn't really blame him. Yeah, Roy was the best friend he'd ever had and at times John wondered what he had ever done in life to deserve that friendship.

 

Turning onto his back, he threw his arm over his eyes; a position unconsciously held over from a time when life hadn't been so good to him, a time of loneliness that he'd never forget but was not part of who he was anymore. The last and final fight with his father. The sleeping in bus stops, or any other public place he'd happened to be when he got tired or the sun went down. Not having a purpose or direction. But that was the past, and for all the bad things the world had thrown at him, it also had presented him with a future that probably never would have occurred to him if he had stayed in his environment at home.

 

John was happy with the way things in general had turned out. He had a job he loved. Roy and his family had included John as a part of their own family. He loved them, felt that they cared the same for him, and that knowledge filled a void that he never even knew was there. Being cared about again had been a hard adjustment for him to make but now he couldn't imagine living without his 'family'. His friends were honest, good people. Even Chet. John smiled to himself, knowing that Chet pulled these pranks because it was easier than verbally sharing his feelings of friendship. Well, that's what Dixie told him, anyway. John finally started drifting off to sleep; during the late evening runs, he'd figured out exactly how he was going to 'share' some of his own feelings for Chet.

 

Roy stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, winding down from the shift so far. When he heard John throw an arm over his head, Roy looked over at his partner for a moment. He had had a hard time not giving John a ribbing about the smell in the squad. He hoped it aired out by the time the next shift came on in the morning. The locker room was still pretty strong, too, but at least it was breathable in there again. Chet and Marco had worked on getting things cleaned up every minute that they weren't on a run.

 

Roy found it hard to feel sorry for the two. He knew Marco had just fallen into the prank, but Chet seemed to thrive on making things difficult for John. Roy knew it probably had something to do with some psychobabble Dixie had told John but all he really cared about was that the final result was John being humiliated in some way. Roy often wondered what John had been through in his life to make him be able to put up with Chet. It was as if there was nothing Chet could do as a joke that would be worse than the things other people had done to him. Sometimes, when John realized that he was the butt of yet another joke, there was an initial look that crossed his face that made Roy think that John was about to react to a triggered memory, rather than the present insult. Then the look would pass and the Chet and Johnny show would continue.

 

Roy didn't know why he felt so protective of John, or even if protective was the word for it. Maybe the word was responsible. John was here because Roy had introduced the young fireman to the program. Being a Fireman wasn't the safest job but a paramedic tended to stay in a dangerous situation longer trying to help a victim before moving them than a normal run in, grab and get out again procedure. Also there was the unexpected friendship he had formed with the new trainee, turned partner, and he'd taken a certain amount of pride watching as that trainee grew into a very competent paramedic. Okay. So maybe he was protective. John had become such a part of his life, and his family’s life, that he couldn't imagine what things would be if they'd never met.

 

Roy thought about it a lot during those times when it was quiet like this and a person had time to stop and think about the things that he was really thankful for in his life. His wife, his family, John included in family, and his friends. Sometimes he felt compelled to express to John just what he meant to him and his family, but that wasn't the way Roy was. Some things like that didn't need to be said, it was just known. At least he hoped John knew. He started drifting off to sleep thinking about the cards life often dealt people and just how lucky he really was.

 

*********

 

The large, multi-family complex was quiet for the night. The children were all in bed and now that it was going on midnight, one by one the lights in living rooms, kitchens, and finally bedrooms went out.

 

The gas leak started like a lot of gas leaks usually star; old, unkempt, equipment and lines, unchecked and in an isolated basement. An eerie, constant hiss was the only indicator of the danger rising up and away from the extinguished pilot light and into the basement. Before long, it was quietly seeping from the basement into the rest of the building, through the many cracks and vents. The people slept unaware; and all was silence.

 

*********

 

The lights came on, and the tones rang out almost simultaneously throughout the station house. Without even conscious thought, six men jumped into their turnout gear.

Station 51, Engine 10, Engine 8. Gas leak. Cedarhaven Apartment Complex. Cross Streets, Haven Ave. and Cedar St. Time out: 05:47," the usual voice announced.

Roy rubbed the sleep from his eyes and took the address from the Captain, then handed it to John. "I wonder if Sam just lives at the Dispatch station. He never seems to go home." They pulled out leading the way, lights and sirens waking up the neighborhood.

 

*********

 

The scene was deceivingly calm when they pulled up to the multi-complex building. There were some people walking around the area in bathrobes and slippers. Others were sitting on the grass under the large trees that decorated the property. All were too close to the building to be safe.

 

As soon as the engine pulled to a stop, an Oriental man in a business suit ran up to the captain, panting heavily from his excursions. "I'm Mr. Samo, the one who called. I just got home from a business trip. As soon as I opened the main lobby door the gas smell was overwhelming. I used the pay phone down the street there, then came back and started banging on doors, but I know there're still people in there. I didn't get to the top floor. There’re two families that live up there."

 

The captain was impressed. A lot of times he’d arrived at a scene and been met by someone screaming at him incoherently. This man was incredibly composed and spoke English very clearly. "Well, Mr. Samo, you've done an excellent job here. Thanks you for your help. If you could do one more thing for me and help gather all your neighbors, here, and move them farther away. We don't want any of them hurt if an explosion should occur."

 

The man nodded, then turned and ran toward the group of people, speaking to some in English and to others in what Hank supposed was his native language. Quickly, the people were moved out of the way.

 

By this time reinforcements were pulling up the street and 51's crew were standing in front of their captain waiting for instructions.

 

"OK," Cap started, "Marco, Chet, I want you two to go in and ventilate the building as best you can. While you're doing that, see if you can find the exact source of the leak and check for any places where it could pocket. Roy and John, I want you two to begin a room by room search for anyone left in there. The man over there was pretty certain that there were still people in there. Everyone, be careful. We don't want anything touching this thing off before we get it under control." Everyone with an assignment nodded and headed for the building.

John turned and winked at Roy as they followed Marco and Chet to the front door. "Hey, Chet." Chet looked back at John, but still kept pace with Marco. "It's a good thing the captain had you and Marco practicing your ventilation techniques at the station today." John smiled as his comment had the desired irritating effect on Chet. Marco sternly pulled Chet along and Roy rolled his eyes, giving John a bit of a shove into the building.

 

"You better be careful, Gage. The Phantom's not through with you." Chet threatened as the two teams split up.

 

John laughed out loud at Chet's attempt to intimidate him. "Bring it on, Chester B." John thought of his ultimate retaliation for the perfume gag. He just had to get everything together over his days off. He followed Roy, who was shaking his head. Oh yes, Chester, your reign is about to end.

 

*********

 

Murphy came out of treatment room six not looking very happy. He leaned up against the wall for a moment to pull himself together after his and Carter's last run. The car that had been wrapped around a large oak tree had gotten them called out around four AM. He was grateful that it had been a quiet night before this call. Otherwise, he didn't think he could have held up. Three fatalities, two injured, and none of their victims were over eighteen. He knew he was frustrated with the run, but there were times when he just wished he had chosen a different profession.

 

He pushed himself away from the wall, when the treatment room doors opened and Dixie came out, looking like she just wanted to find a dark corner and get a few hours of sleep. She looked at him as he joined her on her way to the nurse’s station. "Rough call, huh?" He knew it wasn't a question.

 

"Oh yeah," he said with conviction. "It's so much harder when kids are involved. You know they were stoned? That girl looked up at me on the way in and started laughing at her friend. Thought he looked like one of those TV science fiction shows with all the equipment hooked up to him. She was completely out of reality. What's up with their parents? Don't they even care?" They reached the desk and Dixie slid into her chair. She saw Carter coming through the Emergency doors after parking the squad.

 

"I don’t know, Tom." She put her elbow up on the desktop and rubbed an eye as she leaned on her hand. "But for three of those kids, if their parents did care, they won't ever have to again. And the other ones...well, hopefully they'll get a wake up call in more ways than one this morning." She got up to get some coffee as Carter caught the last of their conversation.

"So how'd it turn out?" He knew that both the kids Murphy had brought in were in bad shape when they left the scene.

 

Murphy looked at the floor then back up at his partner. "The girl went bad on the ride in. She didn't make it. The boy's being sent to surgery. There's a good chance he won't ever walk again, but at least he's alive. He'll probably wish he wasn't when he comes to and realizes that he killed three of his friends."

 

Carter just shook his head. There was nothing to say. "Let's get something to eat on the way back to the station, okay?"

 

"Sure." Murphy knew Carter well enough to know that Carter ate when he was upset, so it wouldn't hurt to stop somewhere.

 

Dixie came back to the desk and sat down again. Carter noticed how tired she looked and thought of something. "Hey Dix, weren't you here last evening? I thought you went home at eleven?"

 

Dixie half smiled. "I thought I did, too, but I made a mistake on the duty schedule and scheduled Darlene for a double shift. She wasn't able to stay and it was my mix-up so here I am. This accident was the busiest we've been all night, so I just hope once we get them settled in it'll go back to being quiet until I can get outta here at seven."

 

Carter snickered, "Ain't it great being in charge?" He caught her eye roll. "Well we'd better get going. I'm just tasting those IHOP pancakes. Take it easy, Dix," he waved as he turned to leave.

"Yeah, see ya, Dix." Murphy called as he followed his partner. She watched them head down the hall. "IHOP? We don't have time to stop there." Carter was about to give an argument when Murphy's handi-talkie squawked at them. "See I told you," he smiled. He knew that in the end Carter would have won any argument about food.

 

"LA County Squad 8. Are you available?" Murphy acknowledged as they reached the squad. "Squad 8, assist with reported gas leak. Cedarhaven Apartment Complex. Cross Streets, Haven Ave. and Cedar St."

 

"Squad 8. 10-4." Murphy jumped into the driver’s seat and pulled away. "That's not too far from here. Isn't that one of those family complexes?"

"Uh huh." Carter looked at the map and pointed directions. "That could really get bad if it gets touched off."

 

*********

 

Five minutes later, they came upon a police car blocking the road. The officer ran up to the squad. "We've got a gas leak in that building down there," he pointed down the road at a large, brick complex that sat on the corner of a quiet intersection. Behind the complex was a large, grassy park, making it easy for the emergency personnel to surround the complex. "The area is being evacuated in a two-block radius. Just be careful, OK?"

 

Carter and Murphy nodded in response to the warning and waved as the officer waved them through.

 

Murphy pulled next to one of the engines parked on the street at the side of the building. They scanned the area for their captain, spotting him around the front.

Just then, all hell broke loose. The ground rocked with the violence that almost simultaneously blew out every window in the building out and shot the flat-topped roof high into the air. Neither Murphy nor Carter saw how high it went. They were running, diving for cover under anything they could find, as various sizes of flaming debris rained down on them.

It seemed like forever, but finally the major pelting stopped, and they were able to crawl out from under the engine they had used for shelter.

 

For a few moments, it was silent as everyone took personal inventory. Then suddenly there was activity as hoses were pulled off trucks and the captains started shouting orders. Intermixed with all the activity were the moans and cries of the injured that hadn’t made it to cover quickly enough.

 

Realizing that they were going to need more help, Carter started back toward the squad while Murphy went over to an injured tenant who made it out of the building just in time. He requested a triage team and additional paramedics to assist the two squads already on location. As he was heading back toward the front of the building, a firefighter came from around the side and flagged Carter down. "Hey, we got a man down back here! He's hurt really bad!"

 

*********

 

Captain Stanley had watched his men bicker with each other as they entered the building. Situations like this really tested his patience. If there were an actual fire he'd have a place to direct his adrenaline. But not knowing from one second to the next if they would call it a day here with everyone safe and the building intact, or if some spark would seriously endanger everyone around and inside, that made him nervous. Knowing that Chief McConnike would soon be showing up didn't put him at ease much, but once the Chief got there and took over, Hank would at least be able to move around the scene more.

 

About fifteen minutes later the other two companies were moving to cover other parts of the building. One truck moved around to the side facing the other street. The second passed the first, went up over the sidewalk and proceeded around to the back, stopping next to a hydrant.

 

Marco came around the right side of the building, crossed the front lawn, and came into the street. "Cap, I found the leak in the basement. It's at the shutoff valve. I just turned it off. Do you want me to go back in and help Chet finish venting?"

 

The Captain thought for a moment, fidgeting. He pulled out his HT. "Engine 51 to HT 51."

 

"Yeah Cap," came Roy's response.

 

"What's going on in there? How close are you to being done?"

 

"Well, we just finished the second floor and we're moving up to the third."

 

"OK, make it fast." He put down the antenna and shoved the HT back in his pocket.

 

"Get them out! Now!" A chill ran through Hank as he spun around, wondering who had yelled in his ear. Only Marco was next to him.

"Did you just say something?"

 

"No, Cap. Why?"

 

"Uh. Nothing" The logical part of his brain was trying to control an irritating urgency. Almost a panic. He really didn't want to send anyone else in there but logic won out. "Marco, I've got reservations about this, but, yeah, go in and find Chet. Get done in there quick and then get back out here." Hank forcefully pushed away his uneasiness.

 

"Sure thing, Cap." Marco turned on his heel and headed for the front door, stopping to direct more of the residents that were still occasionally running out.

 

Cap was just about to look away from Marco when he felt a low rumbling noise. At the same instant a blast of smoke, debris and flame exploded out the first floor windows and door. He watched as Marco, who was half way across the front lawn, was thrown back out into the street. Cap started running to help Marco but Marco was already up and coming at him when the second and third floors went up in the same way the first did. They ran around to the other side of the engine, using it for cover, as the roof blew off the top of the building.

 

It seemed to take forever before things stopped falling from the sky. As soon as it was fairly clear the Captain jumped into the engine cab and called for help. Lots of help. By the time he finished, Marco was already pulling hose off the engine and Mike was waiting for the signal to turn on the water. The Captain’s heart was gripped with despair. No one could have survived that.

 

*********

 

"Don't worry about your stuff, just get your family out of the building!" John had wanted to physically push the guy down the stairs. The guy’s wife dragged their two kids down the stairs while begging her husband to follow, but he turned to argue with John again. "Now!" John yelled before the guy could get out another word.

Roy stepped up between the two. "Sir, your wife and kids are going to needs you outside." The guy glared at Roy and then John. He humpfed loudly then went down the stairs scooping up one of his children and led his family out the building.

 

"Can you believe that guy?" John shut the apartment door and marked it.

 

"Let's just keep going." Roy waited for John to finish marking the door and then followed him toward the stairs. He knew the guy was being unreasonable but he also wished that Johnny would be a little more diplomatic at times. He knew John had it in him, but sometimes...

 

"Engine 51 to HT 51." The captain’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He stopped at the bottom of the first set of stairs leading to the third floor. John waited on the center landing, looking out the large window at the park in the back.

 

"Yeah, Cap," Roy responded.

 

"What's going on in there? How close are you to being done?" The captain’s voices sounded really worried.

 

"Well, we just finished the second floor and we're moving up to the third."

 

"OK, make it fast."

 

Roy put the HT back in his pocket. "You heard the man, Junior."

 

John turned away from the window as Roy came up behind him and started up the second set of steps. "Yep, I did, Pally."

 

Before John could take his second step, he felt a vibration in the floorboards. He looked to Roy to see if he'd felt the same thing only to see Roy looking back at him with the same frantic, terrified expression John knew was on his own face.

 

Before either could react further, their world exploded. The forces of hell slammed into them, as flames and flying obstacles blew through the second floor hallway. Then the floor underneath their feet went up and outward.

 

As Roy was propelled against the large window, he made eye contact with John who was being thrown in the same direction. Unfortunately, instead of hitting the window, John’s momentum was stopped by the brick wall just next to the window. THIS ISN'T HAPPENING! Roy was too stunned to scream out loud.

 

He saw John impact the wall, hard, then he felt the glass behind him give way and he was once again being propelled through open air. NO! STOP! His brain kept hollering as if he had the power to stop reality and time. Then all went dark when something knocked his helmet off and he hit the huge tree that stood about ten feet away from the third story window. He didn't feel any of his bones breaking as gravity pulled him down, bouncing him from branch to branch, until he finally dropped onto the grass under the tree.

 

*********

 

Hearing. He was hearing crying. Moaning. Moans of pain. He recognized the voice of the moan. His. And pain. Lots of pain. All over. Then another voice. I don't know that voice. Where's Johnny? He tried to remember. His eyes popped open and looked into the unfamiliar face of a fireman. He was from the county but he must have been new. This guy could be related to Kelly. Look at that mustache. What a thought at a time like this. "JOHNNY!" The man held him down when he struggled to get up.

 

"Hey, hey. Don't move. Just lie still. I’ll go get you some help." Carlos had seen Roy come through the window. He put his hand on Roy’s shoulder hoping it wasn't as broken as the rest of the body looked.

 

Roy slowly reached up and took the man’s forearm firmly. He made sure that eye contact was made. "Listen to me." He spoke calmly so he wouldn't be perceived as distraught. "That third floor window. My partner is up there. He's right next to it. Please! Get him out. He's right there within arm's reach of the window."

 

Carlos looked up at the window skeptically. Black smoke poured out with a flicker of flame every now and then. "Jeez. Are you sure that's where he's at?"

 

Roy pulled him closer. It was getting hard to breathe. "Please. Hurry. If anyone could make it through that, it would be Johnny."

 

The man looked around. "I'll see what I can do." He waved his captain over to them.

 

*********

 

"Captain, I just got a report of a firefighter up on the third floor." Carlos watched Captain Walker look at the window, knowing what he was thinking. "He's supposedly right next to the window frame, within arm's reach. I'd be willing to try and reach him."

 

There really wasn't much to think about. He didn't think there was a chance of anyone being alive in there after that explosion, but he knew he had to at least try. In his job, he had seen a lot of amazing things. "All right, get Sam to help you. Go around to the side and get the longer ladder off of Captain Anderson’s truck. That one should reach better."

 

Carlos ran over to Sam who was working on spraying the outside of the building and through the back windows, and tapped him on the shoulder. "I need your help getting a ladder up to that window up there." He pointed to where he'd seen Roy fly out the building. "Supposedly one of the guys that were clearing the building is right on the other side." Sam looked at the window the same way his captain had but didn't say anything. He put the hose down and followed Carlos around to the engine.

 

"Start getting the ladder down, I'll be right back." Carlos said right before they got to the engine. He split off from Sam and went around to the front where he remembered seeing a squad earlier. He immediately spotted one of the paramedics and flagged him down. "Hey, we got a man down back here! He's hurt really bad!"

 

*********

 

Roy lay on the grass, staring up at the window through the branches above him. All he could see was the window; nothing else existed. He knew he was in bad shape and tried calm himself by slowing his breathing but he was really scared. His heart pounded with the longing to get up to his friend but every breath that he took nearly made him pass out. What's taking them so long!? Why aren't they up there yet?

 

"Roy?" Carter's face appeared into his line of sight. "Roy, can you hear me?"

 

"Yeah." His eyes never left the window. He could hear someone setting Carter's equipment on the ground next to him. "Get Johnny."

 

Carter couldn't hear Roy's words, but he understood what was being said. "Don't you worry about Johnny. They should be here with a ladder any time now." He got Roy’s vital signs and while grabbing a cervical collar, glanced up at the smoke billowing from the window. He tried not to let his expression change with the lack of hope he felt as he contacted Rampart.

 

*********

 

Sam picked up his discarded hose and shot water into the landing window, attempting to cool the area a bit before they went up. He then helped Carlos put the ladder against the brick wall and steadied it as Carlos climbed.

 

Once at the top, Carlos leaned inside. What he saw wasn't encouraging. The whole thing was gutted. He looked down through the debris at what used to be the second floor and could see right down almost to ground level. If that guy's partner is in here, he's down there. He came back out the window and looked down at Roy being worked on by the paramedic. I'm sorry. Then he looked at Sam and shook his head. Sam looked at the ground, then over at Roy, who was watching them.

 

*********

 

Finally! Roy saw Carlos and another fireman set up the ladder. He saw Carlos climb up and lean his body through the window. After a moment Carlos straightened back up and looked down at him. "No! Oh no!" Roy whispered. Tears forming.

 

Carter noticed Roy’s expression and looked up in time to see Carlos shake his head at Sam. He pressed his lips together, trying to keep control. 'Pay attention. Now's not the time.' He worked on the problem at hand, not liking the way the vitals were looking. He didn't want to loose Roy, too.

 

Then suddenly Carter’s concentration was interrupted by shouting. He noticed Roy getting agitated again. Looking up, he heard Carlos yell at Sam.

 

"I can't believe it! He's right here!" He smacked the brick outside of the building. "I looked right over the top of him!" Carlos climbed up and straddled the sill. "I need some help up here! There's no other floor, except a small part attached to the wall, so I'll have to hand him through to you."

 

While Sam was hurrying up the ladder, Carlos reached down and felt John's neck for a pulse. Barely there, but it was there. You are one lucky guy. Then he took a look at the burns. The turnout material had been designed to help protect most of the skin from heat and flame but they had their limits. John's hands, face and neck had been exposed and hadn't faired well at all. Carlos rethought his opinion. He had seen burn scars before and if this guy survived he'd have them. Lots of them. I wonder if you'll think you're luck. Carlos reached down, heaved the unconscious man through the window and put him across Sam's shoulders.

 

*********

Once down the ladder, Carlos and Carter helped Sam carefully lay John on the grass a few feet from Roy. Carter immediately checked to see if Johnny was still breathing.

 

Roy painfully tried to look over in John’s direction, but the collar kept him from turning his head. "Johnny?" He really wasn't expecting a response.

 

Carter reached up and pulled Carlos down next to Roy. "Watch him." He then turned a half turn to Johnny. "You!" He pointed at Sam, indicating him to kneel at John’s head. "Hold his head immobile until we can get a collar on him." He began to remove and cut at John’s turnouts, glancing over to Roy every now and then.

 

Moments later, Murphy rounded the corned, coming up to them. When he saw whom Carter was working on, his knees almost buckled. He quickly recovered, pulling together all the resolve he could.

 

Carter had finally been able to get a BP cuff around John’s arm. The smell of burnt flesh made his eyes water and it took all his will power not to gag. "We're going to need a burn pack, two back boards, another C-collar and 51’s Datascope. I've got Roy hooked up on ours." While Murphy ran back to the front to retrieve the needed equipment, Carter continued to remove as much of John’s clothes as he could, checking for broken bones and other injuries as he did. Then he went to the biophone.

 

"Rampart, this is Squad 8."

 

"Go ahead, Squad 8," came Dr. Early's voice.

 

"Rampart, I have a second victim. Male. Approximately 28 years old. Vitals are: BP, 180/45. Pulse 20 and weak. Respirations are 15 and shallow. Pupils are sluggish and unequal. He’s got multiple fractures on his left arm, leg and ribs. Victim has an impression on the top, right quadrant of the head, and also second and third degree burns on the face, hands, neck and chest areas. I’ve cut as much of his clothes away from the burns as possible."

 

Murphy soon came back with the Datascope and Captain Stanley. He'd run into 51's captain while getting the needed items and filled him in on the situation. By then Carter had the IV's going and was getting the splints ready.

 

*********

 

Roy watched helplessly as Carter worked on John. The list of injuries seemed to be endless and the burns were bad. Just hang in there, Junior. Wouldn't want the Phantom to get the last laugh now would you? As he looked up at the sky, he began to feel very light. The haze caused by the fire merged with that in his brain, then all faded and went gray.

 

*********-

 

Captain Stanley knelt next to Carlos who continued to watch Roy. Roy looked awful. Blood covered his face from several lacerations on his head and face. His left leg and arm were splinted, and he was hooked up to the data scope that kept a reading of his heartbeat. Under all the wires, his chest was bruised and swelling. Both Hank and Carlos noticed the change as the same instant. Hank put his hand lightly on Roy's abdomen. "Carter, he just stopped breathing."

 

Carter spun back to Roy. He put his hand on Roy’s abdomen, verifying what the captain had said and swore again. Reaching into the trauma box, he pulled out the esophageal airway.

Hank almost gagged watching Carter start the airway on his friend. He rubbed his hands over his stressed face. He felt so helpless just standing there watching Carlos continue to squeeze the airbag. He knew that there was always a possibility he could lose a man in his command. A man, was one thing, but to loose three of them... How could this have happened? Was there something I missed? There had to be. There must have been something I could have done different.

 

Hank forced himself back from his self-pitying thoughts. No, don't think of that right now. They're not dead, yet. Yet. He felt like he was going to throw up. No, just hold together until this is over. I have to hold it together and do my job.

 

Hank swallowed to keep his voice even, shoving his hands into his turnout coat pockets so that no one could see them shaking. "Carter, I'm going to go around front and check on things. I'll direct the ambulances when they get here. Take care of my men, okay? I don't seem to be able to." He saw Carter close the connection on the biophone then nod up to him as he left.

 

*********

 

"Oh, Kel, good! You're here!" Dixie called toward Dr. Brackett as soon as he came through the Emergency doors to start his day.

He quickly stepped out of the way of a gurney loaded with supplies as it went out the door. The orderly called back an apology but didn't slow down. It was a chaos he was familiar with. "Dixie, what's going on here? What's happened?"

 

"Building explosion at a family complex." Dixie dropped an armload of supplies onto a gurney. "We've got a triage team already on their way. It should be a few minutes before casualties start arriving." She hurried off down the hall for more supplies.

 

Dr. Brackett wove his way through all the preparations until he made it to the base station.

 

"Have the ambulances arrived yet?" Dr. Early handed Brackett the clipboard with the information on it.

 

"Negative, Rampart," came Carter's voice through the speaker.

 

Dr. Early turned to Brackett. "Squad 8 was on the scene at the time of the explosion. They're working on two injured firemen right now. The ambulances should be there any minute."

 

*********

 

The first morning light was beginning to form in the eastern sky as Captain Stanley finished speaking with Chief McConnike and surveyed the scene around him. The fire would soon be out, which wasn't too surprising. After the initial blast, the debris left inside collapsed in on itself and helped smother a lot of the flames. Civilians and any firemen not on hoses were helping the injured, to the location where the triage would be set up.

 

This had been a disaster. Johnny and Roy were critically injured. They'd only completed the evacuation up to the second floor, so who knew how many people were on the remaining floor. And Chet. He could never have survived that blast.

 

Hank couldn't help the feelings of guilt that crept through him, no matter how hard he tried to push them aside. He knew he had to concentrate on his responsibilities. My responsibilities? He grunted in disgust, pounding his fist onto the hood on the squad. My men were my responsibility! How could I have messed up so badly? Even Chief McConnike knew it was my fault; I could hear it in his voice when I just talked to him. The thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the ambulances, carrying the medical teams, coming up the street.

 

*********

 

Hank waved the first of the ambulances to the triage location, running to meet Dr. Morton, who happened to be one of the first doctors to emerge. Morton had jumped from the back of one of the vehicles and was taking a moment take in the situation, staring in amazement at the destruction in front of him.

 

*********

 

"Where are those ambulances!" The stress was really starting to get to Carter. He'd done everything that he could to get Roy stabilized, but what he needed was an operating room. "Come on, come on!" he pleaded looking around toward the side of the building, praying for help to appear.

 

Just like his partner, Murphy was having a difficult time restraining his own emotions. John had been rolled onto a back board and burn blanket; sterile saline soaked the coverings of his burns. Murphy was pouring more saline at the base of the c-collar when the line moving across the data scope changed from a slow rhythm to an erratic squiggle.

"V-fib!" Not good! Come on, John, don't quit on me! "Get Rampart!"

 

Murphy gelled the defibrillator paddles, placed them and watched the scope numbers rise with the charge. When the numbers reached 400, he sent the charge through them. When the shock was released, Murphy looked at the monitor. No change. He took a deep breath, leaned forward and applied another shock.

 

Carter tried to pay attention to the instructions being given as John’s body arched and lifted again in reaction to the current surging through it. Where is our help? He knew that it really wasn't that long since they'd radioed for help, but it seemed like hours. He injected the ordered Epinephrine and backed up.

 

"Come on, John." Carter's soft plea sounded like a whispered prayer.

 

As the defibrillator released John a third time, Carter grabbed the biophone receiver, watching the line erratically cross the scope. Before he could open the connection, Captain Stanley came running around the corner, followed closely by Dr. Morton, and a gurney pulled by two attendants.

 

Morton dropped down between Roy and John. "What have we got?"

 

Carter handed him the vitals that he’d written for both patients and nodded at John. "Multiple fractures on the left arm and ribs. Also, rib fractures, major head trauma. Just went into v-fib. Counter shocked times three, no conversion." He then nodded at Roy. "Multiple fractures of the left arm and leg. He also has multiple rib fractures mostly to the left side. Head trauma is evident. He was in respiratory arrest, we’ve got him bagged and ready for transport."

 

Morton moved closer, to John and nodded his permission to Murphy to start the airway that was prepared, then he grabbed the sodium bicarb that Murphy had laid out, speaking while he administered it.

 

"Okay. Captain Stanley, and you..." Morton indicated Carlos. "...help Carter get Roy onto the backboard and get him transported. Take the biophone with you, I'll stay with John."

Carter, Carlos, and Hank carefully rolled Roy onto a backboard. As they were lifting him to the gurney, they could hear the whine of the defibrillator being charge once again.

Everyone tensed and glanced to the monitor when yet another shock was released. The result was an even weaker signal. Carter shook his head in despair, as he ran beside the stretcher carrying Roy to the waiting ambulance.

 

Morton held up a syringe containing more epinephrine, checked that it was the proper dosage, then injected it into John’s IV. "Hit him, again!" He backed up.

"Nothing." Murphy wiped the sweat from his lip.

 

Morton dug through the trauma box, pulling out an intracardiac syringe. He filled it with more epinephrine, then sunk it deep into John’s chest until it reached his heart. Once the tube emptied, he jerked the needle out. Please, please, please. His lips pressed together in anger.

 

Morton half stood. "Wrap him up! Let’s move!" The attendants and Murphy lifted John onto the gurney. Sam squeezed the oxygen bag, while Murphy jumped up on the stretcher and started compressions.

 

"Please, please, don't do this." Murphy prayed trying to stay steady on the stretcher. Just then he heard a sickening crunch and felt an odd give under his hands. Son of.... "Doc, those fractured ribs just gave way!"

 

"Keep going, we'll have to risk it."

 

*********

 

Captain Stanley pounded on the back of the ambulance transporting his senior paramedic. He watched as it sped off, sirens warning all cars out of the way. 'How could this have gone so terribly wrong? Why didn’t I listen?' He took another look around the scene. Things were under a controlled chaos. Triage was overflowing with the injured and he could hear additional sirens in the distance. The more seriously injured would be taken to Rampart to get checked out and only one crewmember was not accounted for. Chet.

His silent prayer for another miracle was interrupted when John was brought around the side of the building towards him. He opened the back of the ambulance and helped lift the gurney, watching as Sam handed over the airbag to one of the attendants. He didn't bother to ask how things were going; he could see it on all their faces. His heart became heavier with each compression he saw Murphy lean into.

 

Morton stopped Hank before he could shut the doors. "Tell Carol I'm going in and I'll be back as soon as I can. Until then Dr. Mitchell is in charge." At Hank's nod, he got back in and the doors shut. The ambulance pulled out to go fight the morning traffic.

 

Hank could see Murphy’s head bobbing through the back window as he continued with the CPR. He looked down at the blood on his shaking hands. How appropriate. He just stared at his friend’s blood, and something inside him snapped, all the voices around him muted into a low hum. He knew he should wipe the blood off, but he couldn't move to do it. It belonged there. He'd been in charge and he'd blown it.

 

He felt someone shake his arm and a voice filtered in from far away. "Cap? Are you okay?" He was so transfixed on the blood he couldn't respond. "Cap? Why don't you come over here with me?" A hand took his elbow and led him away somewhere. He didn't care; he just followed, ignoring the efforts to get his attention.

Suddenly a horrid smell jerked him back into reality. He waved his arms in front of him, pushing someone's hand away in the process. "Aurgh! Get that way from me!" He looked up into Stoker's concerned face. Looking around him, he realized that he was leaning against a tree at the edge of the triage area.

 

Mike put down the smelling salts. "Sorry, Cap, but you kinda left us there for a second."

 

Hank looked back down at his hands, then away again. Great. I’m a Captain. ‘Psychologically’ stable to handle this sort of crisis and here I am zoning. Great leadership material, Hank.

 

Mike knelt in front of his captain. He'd never seen him like this before. "Um, Cap? What happened?" He pointed at the blood. "Whose blood is that?"

Stanley's gaze went back to his hands. "It's Roy's. He was bleeding pretty bad."

 

Mike was confused. "I thought Roy was inside?"

 

"He was. Apparently he was blown out an upstairs window. He looked really bad. Johnny looked worse." His voice started trailing off; his mind didn't want to deal with this anymore.

"Johnny got out, too?" Mike's surprised question pulled him back.

 

"Yeah. I didn't get all the details. Somehow the guys around back were able to get him out. He's in bad shape. They're both in bad shape, and on their way to Rampart." He shook his head. "It's my fault. This should never have happened. The explosion should never have happened."

 

Mike was taken off guard at the remarks. "It's not your fault. How can you say that?" He raised his voice, trying to get through to his captain. "We've gotten calls for gas leaks before. Just like this one. You followed procedure. The building needed to be evacuated. We all knew the dangers involved with that. Cap, it's not your fault."

 

Hank wasn't about to be consoled so easily. "Procedure? Knew the dangers? Mike, I was responsible for the situation. Three of my crew, and who knows how many civilians were still in there? I should have been more in control of the situation!" He pounded his fist into his other open hand, looking intensely at his Engineer. "Mike, I heard someone say to get them out, but I didn't listen! Why didn’t I listen?"

 

Mike eyed him with concern. "Who told you to get them out?

 

"I don’t know." He stood up, fidgeting and started pacing around in circle. "I don’t know. I thought I heard something, but when I looked, I didn’t see anyone." He turned away, lowering his voice. "We develop an instinct on this job, you know. A voice inside our heads or just a gut feeling. This time that voice was so loud that I thought I could physically hear it." He absently rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand. "But I refused to listen." He suddenly straightened and turned back to Mike. "That sounds really crazy, doesn’t it?"

Mike steered Hank back to the chair. Then he went over to a stack of towels, poured some water from a container on one, came back and handed it to his friend. "No Cap, I don’t think it sounds crazy." He didn't elaborate his on opinion.

 

Hank took the offered towel and wiped his face. The coolness on his skin felt good, it helped him think a little clearer. He felt Mike staring at him. "I'm sorry, Mike. I'm really worried about Roy and Johnny. I don't think I could take losing anyone else."

 

Mike was confused again. "Anyone else?"

 

Hank couldn't understand Mike's confused look. "I'm talking about Chet. Remember? He was ventilating the building."

 

Mike brightened a little. "Cap, Chet's okay." At Hank's look of disbelief, Mike continued. "He was blown off a second floor balcony on the other side. He's got a fractured leg and a bump on the head, but nothing he won't recover from."

 

Han