Smoke Eater
A/N: This has nothing to do with the episode of the same name.
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"Johnny's still in there, Cap!" Chet choked out as he and Marco came out from the inferno.
Both of the Station 51 linemen were blackened with soot and coughing, from their search for a missing victim. They, with Johnny, had been on the second floor when their tanks had alerted them they were almost empty, and they had made their escape. Both of them could have sworn that the young paramedic was with them. He had been right behind them.
Captain Hank Stanley frowned as he looked at the blaze consuming the old smelting factory. Though he appeared stoic and collected, inside his heart raced with fear.
"Where were you three? I told you to stick together!" He snapped, though he didn't mean to.
"We did Cap," Chet said, finally able to stand upright now that his coughing had abided some. "We were on the second floor. He was right behind us. He had a victim though…."
Hank felt his heart skip a few beats. Johnny knew to stay with his partners when he made entries. He knew that when the signal sounded he had to clear a building, he was a fireman and it was how he was trained. But he was also a paramedic, and if something had happened to the victim Johnny had… it was quite possible that Johnny had taken a precious moment too long checking over his victim instead of fleeing for safety. In a fire, that moment could very well mean the difference between life and death. Hank peered into the burning doorway of the once beautiful home watching as the flames danced in apparent celebration. He couldn't help the feeling of dread that formed in his gut over the idea that the fire's celebration was for claiming the life of a fireman. He swallowed hard in an attempt to squash that idea, his mind screaming at the fire, 'you can't have one of my boys!'
"The two victims are fine Cap, just a case of too much smoke. I'm getting ready to transport them in a minute," came Roy's voice from behind him. The older paramedic had come up to join the small group in hopes of finding out why Johnny wasn't with them. Hank didn't need to look at him to know he was peering into the flames, searching. He didn't need to see the fear in Roy's eyes to know it was there.
"Which room was he in?" Hank asked, "Was his tank still full?"
"No… no… all our tanks went off…" Marco coughed; eyes squeezed shut and body doubled over as he fought to catch his breath. Roy was by his side in an instant.
"Did your tank make it all the way out?"
"I don't think it did," Chet answered for his best friend, eyeing the man with concern.
"Come on, let's get you some oxygen…" Roy said, more so he could do something to distract himself. Johnny was still in the fire...
Marco shook his head, "Have… to go back… in… Johnny…"
"Johnny is out! He's out of the building!" They were all surprised to hear Mike Stoker's voice above all the noise; above the fire and the racing of their heartbeats. The engineer came jogging over to his fellow firefighters, "I just heard it on the HT Cap, Johnny's path got cut off, he had to go up and around. He and the victim are clear. Ladder 10 got him down. He's out."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, the pressing fear now eased. Instantly, they all snapped back to their duties. With all three victims found, Hank ordered an end to the rescue operations. Chet and Mike went back to the engine to grab more lines, and Roy guided Marco to the squad and shoved a mask on him. The fireman didn't fight him, much.
Roy checked over his other two victims while keeping an eye open for Johnny. It wasn't that he didn't believe Mike; it was just that he needed to see for himself that all was well. Johnny was his partner; he needed to know he was out. Suddenly, the HT next to him crackled to life and Roy heard a beautiful sound, "Johnny to Squad 51, how do you copy?"
Marco laughed, as much as he could while sucking down oxygen, and Roy shook his head. Being told and knowing were two very different things… "Squad 51 copies. Go ahead Johnny," Roy answered.
"I need you to relay vitals to Rampart…" Johnny said, and it was back to work for everyone.
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Roy scanned the halls of Rampart, looking for a certain brown haired paramedic. The partners had been split up, Johnny riding in with his victim, Roy with his two. Chet had driven Marco in, since the lineman only needed to be cleared for work. So it was that Roy had yet to lay eyes on his partner since he went into the inferno. Sighing, Roy leaned against the nurses' station, eyes still searching.
"He's fine Roy. Not even much of a cough," Dixie said with a smile, watching the man from where she stood reviewing charts. "His patient's going to be fine as well. A happy ending."
Roy nodded, hearing the words, believing them, but still searching. "Marco's tank ran out while he was still inside… Johnny was in there a lot longer. He would have eaten some smoke…"
"He's fine. Stop worrying, you'll turn yourself gray," again she teased, but she understood. If nursing had taught her anything, it was never trust a report.
Suddenly Roy was moving, causing Dixie to look up and smile. He had found his partner. Johnny came out of exam room three, smiling as he shook Dr. Early's hand.
"Take care Johnny," the kindly doctor said and then nodded to Roy, "you too Roy!"
"Thanks doc," the older medic said as he came to stand next to his partner, he waited a moment for the doctor to walk away before he turned his eyes on Johnny.
"I'm okay," the young man said, a tired smile on his face, "promise. How's Marco?"
Roy frowned; he didn't like how hoarse Johnny sounded, though he knew it was to be expected. "He's fine. Morton's clearing him now," Roy answered, still examining John.
Johnny made a face at the mention of his least favorite doctor, "Poor Marco… what about the other victims?"
"They're fine too. And you? You're sure you're okay?" Roy didn't like how pale Johnny looked, or how much soot was covering his face… especially around his mouth and nose. And the younger man's eyes looked red and irritated… 'just like he's been in a fire', Roy thought tiredly.
"Promise Roy. Not a scratch," came the amused answer and Johnny gave him his famous half smile.
"Did you run out of air?" he asked, pressing. He had to know, had to make sure. Chet and Marco had come out, but Johnny… he hadn't seen Johnny leave the fire.
Johnny rested a hand on Roy's shoulder and locked eyes, "I'm fine. Stop it."
Roy let out a breath and looked down at the floor. He knew exactly what his partner was telling him. Stop thinking about it; stop over thinking about it. It was over, it was done, everyone was out, and everyone was safe. It was a happy ending, so today's events, today's fear, could be locked away safely in the past.
Johnny patted Roy's shoulder then released him, "Come on Pally, let's go get some coffee then rescue Marco from Dr. Morton's bedside manner."
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The drive back to the station was cramped to say the least, the squad just wasn't meant for four men; especially four men who had just fought a dwelling fire. The whole ride in, Roy kept glancing from the road to Johnny, watching the younger man like a hawk. He took in and noted every detail of how the younger man slumped over, resting his head against the window. How he kept his eyes shut and occasionally seemed to rub his temples. He stiffened when he heard Johnny cough a few times, and had to fight the urge to pull over and listen to his lungs.
Johnny wasn't showing any signs that were abnormal for someone who had just been in a burning house. Dr. Early hadn't seemed at all worried about Johnny, and Roy knew that if he had been concerned than Johnny would be getting chest x rays. Still, he couldn't help but be worried.
"Stop it Roy," Johnny yawned without opening his eyes.
Chet and Marco looked at the partners with quizzical expression, not sure what was happening. Roy just smiled to himself and set his eyes back on the road.
"Hey Marco, you get the feeling you're a third wheel here?" Chet jibbed as he eyed the paramedics.
Marco nodded, "Si."
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Cap Stanley and Mike had already made dinner, something to settle their nerves while they waited for their fellows. Both men had a hand shake or pat on the back for the four… especially Johnny. Roy hadn't been the only one who hadn't seen the young man since he went into the fire.
No one talked about the fire. No one talked about Johnny's escape. If anyone noticed how tired their youngest shift mate seemed, or the headache that seemed to be dogging him, they didn't say anything. The cough was easily overlooked, because, after all, Chet and Marco both had coughs too. They talked about the upcoming World Series and whom they favored. They talked about their pending days off, and what they wanted to do. Roy and Hank told stories about their kids' latest adventures. They talked about how good their meal was, and fought over who would get the last of it and who had to do dishes… but they didn't talk about the near miss.
To talk about it would be just the same as inviting it near.
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It was a quiet evening, and the men were taking full advantage of it. The crew was sitting around the TV watching some old movie, all except for Johnny. The youngest of them sat at the table flipping through the paper. Out of the corner of his eye, Roy watched him, noting how his partner slumped and seemed to be yawning a great deal. It bothered him that those yawns would sometimes end in coughs, though they never seemed to be coughing fits. 'He's still so pale though…' Roy thought to himself.
Roy shifted, a pang of nervous energy rushing through him, he was preparing to get up to check on his partner when he saw the Captain move. Hank walked over to his youngest and gently put his hand on his shoulder. He leaned down and softly whispered, "Time for bed, Pally."
Johnny smiled tiredly and nodded, stifling a yawn. He sighed and coughed a little as he stood up, standing in place for a moment. He swayed lightly and blinked rapidly before shaking his head clear, the Captain's hand on his shoulder to steady him.
"Alright?" Hank asked him, concern knitting his brow.
Johnny nodded, again yawning, "I guess I'm more tired than I thought."
Hank nodded, satisfied with the answer, and patted Johnny's shoulder. The younger man shook his head ruefully before making his exit. Hank and Roy watched him for a moment before meeting each other's eyes.
'Thank you', Roy mouthed to his Captain and received a smile and a nod in reply.
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Johnny eased himself back on his bunk with a grimace as he fought to suppress the cough. It was a losing battle, and he knew it, and in the end he only earned himself a coughing fit. As he fought for breath, he kept glancing up to the dorm's doorway; afraid he would disturb the others. But no one came, much to his relief. After the scare he had given everyone at the fire, the last thing he wanted to do was give them a new cause to worry.
So he had a cough? It was no big deal. All it meant was that he had eaten a little smoke; he'd done it before and been fine. He'd be fine this time too; he just needed a little rest.
Johnny sighed as he closed his eyes, wishing he could have another shower. He still smelt like smoke, and it kept irritating his nose and eyes making them burn. But he didn't have the energy, and he was already so comfortable in his bed…
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It was ten o'clock and the rest of Station 51 was settling in their bunks for the night. Each man was near exhausted and hoping for a blissful night of full sleep. No one spoke as they settled in and soon all were asleep again. Except for Roy, that was.
Roy, though tired, took a moment before bed to look over Johnny again. He did a visual scan of his partner, smiling as he saw him sleeping in his normal fashion; how having one arm slung over your face was comfortable Roy could not understand. Moving closer, he was careful to be as silent as he could be, not wanting to disturb the sleeping man, and noted the pale skin that now glistened with sweat. He frowned, not liking what he saw. His eyes went to Johnny's chest and he counted, sixteen breaths. Normal. Roy's eyes than moved back up to Johnny's face, examining his mouth, there were no hints of cyanosis. Shaking his head, Roy suspected that Johnny was just getting over the last bit of adrenalin from the fire.
Settling into his bunk, Roy fell quickly asleep, momentarily reassured that all was well.
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It was the coughing that woke them.
It was deep, haggard, and painful sounding and reminded Roy of whooping cough. Pushing himself up Roy looked around trying to locate the source of the sound. He didn't have to look too long or hard before his eyes came to rest on his partner. Johnny sat on the edge of his bunk in a tripod position, coughing. His eyes were squeezed shut and tears were falling from the corner. There were hints of blue in the young man's lips as he continued to fight for air, and that more than anything had Roy moving. In a flash he was crouched by his partner's side, expert hands already taking vitals.
"What's the matter with 'im, Roy?" the paramedic heard Chet mumble, still half asleep. He risked a glance over his shoulder to see the rest of the station was awake in their bunks.
"I need the biophone, oxygen, and the cardiac monitor. Might want to bring the drug box too," he ordered before turning back to Johnny. "Hey Junior, can you look at me?"
Johnny, who had managed to stop coughing though he was still clearly wheezing, opened his eyes half-mast and met his partner's worried gaze. "Don't… feel… so… good…" he admitted, and that alone would have made Roy worry. Then, of course, there was the respiration rate of thirty and the pulse of one hundred and twenty-five.
"Tell me how you're feeling, Pally?" this time it was the Captain who asked the question, for now Marco and Chet had brought over the requested equipment and Roy was busy. Mike had already begun the process of calling in the incident and requesting an ambulance, so Hank was left able to focus on his man.
"Head… hurts… can't… breath… sick… gonna be…" Johnny was gasping and teetering, he squeezed his eyes shut and began to lean forward.
Instantly Roy knew what was about to happen and he pushed Johnny's head down, between his knees and shoved a wastebasket under him. Just in time too. Johnny retched violently into the basket, empting the contents of his stomach. The Cap, feeling helpless, could only rub small circles in the paramedic's back, just like he would do for one of his kids. At times like this, with Johnny only being twenty-three, it was hard not to see him as a kid.
Roy's heart raced and he felt his own stomach do a flip-flop when he saw that the vomit had red in it. "Johnny, let's get this mask on you, okay?"
The young man nodded once, eyes still squeezed shut. He offered no resistance as Chet gently set the mask over his face without being prompted. For all the Phantom's teasing, he truly cared about his Pigeon and was, in fact, very fond of him. With a quick pat on his shoulder, Chet stepped back out of Roy's way.
"I've got Rampart for you Roy," Marco said softly, handing the phone to the paramedic.
Roy took it, eyes still locked on his friend's face. "Rampart, this is Squad 51, how do you copy?"
"I copy you, 51. Go ahead with transmission," came the even reply.
Roy had to admit to himself that he was relieved the voice belonged to Dr. Brackett. The doctor may not always have the best bedside manner, but if anybody was going to be treating Johnny, Roy wanted it to be him. "Rampart, we have a twenty-three year old male in respiratory distress. He has vomited once and has stated his head hurts. He is pale and diaphoretic with signs of cyanoses. Vitals are, respirations thirty, shallow and wheezing. Pulse, one hundred and twenty-five, and is regular. BP is one hundred over sixty. Rampart; be advised patient was involved in a fire rescue approximately eight hours ago. Patient is John Gage."
Roy heard the pause on the other end of the line. He could have sworn he heard Kel cursing, because he knew that the doctor was suspecting the exact same thing he was. Smoke inhalation.
"51, start an IV of normal saline, put patient on a non-rebreather mask with fifteen liters oxygen and transport as soon as possible. Continue monitoring vitals, and report any changes."
"10-4 Rampart; IV of normal saline and fifteen liters of oxygen," Roy repeated. He looked back over Johnny, who was looking worse. "Mike, what was the ETA for the ambulance?"
"Fifteen," came the toneless reply.
Roy swallowed the lump in his throat, fifteen minutes was an awfully long wait.
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When Roy got Johnny into the ambulance, his partner had vomited once more and was beginning to lose consciousness. Hank and Chet had done their best to keep the young man talking and with them while Roy made the preparations and Mike and Marco waited for the ambulance. It was all they could do; still… it didn't seem enough. Nothing seemed enough.
Not when Johnny was turning blue. Not when his cough sounded like his lungs were being ripped out. Not when his vomit looked like it had blood in it…
Roy shook his head clear, keeping his focus on Johnny's pulse and respirations. Hank was with him, relaying updates to Rampart and trying to keep Johnny awake. The rest of the crew was following in the engine, after they had been given permission to stand down. Not that they cared terribly much about protocol at this moment.
Johnny's respirations were still shallow and rapid, though they had dropped to twenty eight… at least that was something. His pulse was still too fast, too tachy, and that bothered Roy. Johnny was compensating; his body was fighting really, really hard to maintain itself, which meant he was going to crash.
"John, hey, John…" Hank said calmly, giving him a shake, "I need you to stay with me, okay?"
Johnny stared up at his Captain, taking several long blinks. He couldn't get his eyes to focus and that wasn't helping his headache. "Cap?" he choked out, and that one word cost him greatly.
Hank flinched as he watched the coughing fit shake Johnny's whole body and he found himself wondering why they let someone so young become a fireman… "I'm right here Pally," he offered soothingly as he patted Johnny's shoulder.
"Cap," Johnny groaned out as the coughing fit came to a temporary lull, "tell… tell Roy… Stop… it… tell…" More coughing stole his voice, and caused him to scrunch his face in pain.
Hank looked from Johnny to Roy, confused. Roy didn't meet his Captain's eyes, instead focusing on his patient. "Slowly Johnny, take deep, slow breathes…" the paramedic coached, helping to ease his partner's breathing. "That's it… there you go…"
Johnny took several gasps of air, but didn't open his eyes. He was too weak. "I…I'm sorry…" he managed to gasp out only to have Roy hush him.
"Save your air, Johnny. It's alright…" Roy said resting his hand on Johnny's brow.
"Cap…" Johnny chocked out, ignoring Roy's order, "tell him… stop it… if I… tell him to stop it…" another coughing fit consumed him.
This time Roy feared he would have to intubate, "Johnny, listen to me... breathe in… come on Johnny, take a nice deep breath… damn it… I need Rampart!"
Hank, still very confused, was already on the phone with Rampart, relaying information and orders. Dr. Brackett denied the intubation, too concerned about the damage that may have already been done to Johnny's throat as well as the delay in getting him to the hospital. Hank heard Roy say some very uncharacteristic things and that was when he realized that Johnny might very well die.
"Roy?" Hank flinched at the fear in his own voice.
"We're almost to the hospital," the paramedic said tonelessly as he began to assist ventilations. Then, with a little more emotion added, "You hear that Johnny? We're almost to the hospital you hang on."
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Johnny did make it to the hospital, though he had lost consciousness by then. His breathing had worsened, and his heart rate was beginning to drop. Roy feared his friend was getting ready to crash. The paramedic had never been so happy to see Dr. Brackett in his life.
"How's he doing Roy?" Kel asked as he began examining Johnny.
"Not too good. He was in the fire earlier… I don't know how long he went without his air tank. He never told us," Roy said.
Kel nodded, pulling away from his examine of Johnny's pupils. "Let's get him in two. I want to take a look at his throat…"
Hank watched from a slight distance, unsure of what exactly he could do. The hospital was the world of the paramedics… not some old smoke eater. 'Smoke eater…' the phrase caught in his mind, wasn't that what brought them here? Every firefighter feared fire, but wasn't it the smoke that killed them?
Hank watched the medical team roll Johnny into examine room two while his mind screamed at the smoke, 'you can't have my man.'
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It was a whirlwind of activity, and Roy could barely keep up. As soon as Johnny was transferred from the stretcher to the gurney, the race was on. It was some relief to see that Dixie, Dr. Early, and Dr. Brackett were all present, after all you couldn't ask for a better team. But the relief was short lived.
Johnny's body was exhausted; it had reached the end of its ability to compensate. As Roy predicted, Johnny began to crash, and he crashed hard.
"He's going into convulsions," Kel said in that eerily calm voice as he moved to turn Johnny onto his side. Dixie prepared suction while Joe held Johnny's head, and Roy stepped up to assist Kel. Never before had twenty seconds been so long. It felt like a lifetime had passed before the seizure subsided.
"Dix, go ahead and suction out his airway," Kel instructed, more to ease his own tension for the highly experienced nurse was already doing that.
"I don't see any vomit," She said as she suctioned out the gathered saliva, "I think it's safe to lay him back down."
Both Joe and Kel agreed, and Roy simply did as was instructed. With Johnny flat on his back again, the team immediately went back to work.
"Joe, how does his throat look? Can we get an airway?"
"I don't see any burns, Dixie can you help me set up?"
"Already have the tray prepared for you. X ray should be on their way, what labs do you want Kel?"
"Let's start with ABGs… Joe look at that monitor, tell me what you think…."
Roy heard all the words, he may have even understood them, but they still washed over him. It was too impossible for him to attempt to focus on anything except the rise and fall of Johnny's chest. If he didn't, if he lost focus, Roy was sure that Johnny was going to die.
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"Hey Tiger, how about we go see that fire house of yours?" Dixie said, soothingly, startling Roy out of his head.
He blinked repeatedly, trying very hard to gather his bearings. Why weren't they working on Johnny? Why were Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early just standing around? They should be working on his partner!
A gentle squeeze to his forearm brought his attention back to Dixie and his worried eyes meet her calm ones. "He's stable. X ray is here; nothing more to do right now. Come on, let's go get some coffee and talk to the others."
Roy didn't speak, he couldn't. He simply nodded and allowed Dixie to lead him out of the exam room into the hall. There he found his entire shift, all leaning against the wall with their eyes glued on the door… on him.
"Roy?" Chet asked, instantly standing at attention when he saw the paramedic.
Roy was going to answer, somehow, but before he could figure out what to say, Dixie put her hand up. "To the lounge gentlemen, any conversations we have should be had over coffee." No one argued with her.
In the lounge, Dixie once again took over, not willing to let Roy be the bearer of bad news as well as wanting to give him more time to process. She poured everyone coffee and waited until they had all taken at least one sip before she began. "He is in serious condition, but he is stable," she said straight and to the point. "Right now, we highly suspect that Johnny is suffering from smoke inhalation, but we're still waiting on the lab results and X rays to confirm."
"Smoke inhalation?!" Chet cried out, the only one of the shocked fireman capable of speech, "but he was fine after the fire!" The Irish man looked from Dixie to Roy, wanting the paramedic to confirm that. Wanting to be reassured that they hadn't missed anything.
Roy's statement was anything but reassuring. "He had the symptoms…but they were all low grade. Standard…" the older paramedic's voice was hushed as he stared into the coffee.
"We all missed it," Hank said, eyes on Roy. Suddenly, Johnny's words in the ambulance began to have some clarity in his mind. "We all know the signs, and we all over looked it."
"He said he was fine… he said that he… he got out!" Marco said, still trying to understand. "I ran out of air… I'm fine… I…" Mike's hand on his shoulder hushed him.
"It's not your fault," the normally quiet man said, "smoke affects all of us differently."
"He's absolutely correct. Smoke is tricky, and once it's in the body, you don't know what it can do," Dixie agreed, her eyes scanning all the men before coming to rest on Roy. It bothered her that he was so quiet.
"But he was fine after the fire," Chet repeated, still finding it hard to comprehend.
"Thirty six hours," Roy mumbled, "It's a thirty six hour window…"
Silence fell as a realization hit all of the men on A shift. In less than five hours, they would have been off shift. If Johnny had managed to hide the symptoms like he normally did when he was sick or injured… he would have been alone….
Hank shook his head, once again the words that Johnny said ringing in his ears. "What are his chances, Dixie?"
"Pretty good, I'd say. Dr. Brackett feels that there aren't any internal burns and they were able to intubate successfully. His color's improving and his heart rate is down… we're still waiting to see how much carbon monoxide he has in his blood, and once we know we'll have a better idea what to do."
"And the seizure, Dixie? Did that… his brain?" Roy asked softly. All the other firemen in the room suddenly looked at the nurse like they had been punched. Marco mumbled something in Spanish that sounded like a cross between a prayer and a curse, Mike swallowed hard, and Hank suddenly felt sick.
"A seizure?" Chet repeated, "oh man…"
"The seizure was a side effect of the low oxygen levels, we'll have to do neuro exams, but it's not uncommon in cases like Johnny's." The men were only partially appeased, a fact that amused Dixie.
With a tired sigh, Hank glanced at the clock on the wall, "Mike, Marco, and Chet, we have to get back to quarters, Roy you're stood down until B shift gets on. I'll have Jim and Frank come get you when they restock."
"Cap… can't we stay here?" Chet asked, pleadingly.
"And do what? Get in the way?" Marco answered, though everyone could tell he wanted to stay just as badly.
"We were only stood down for two hours. It's been almost three. I am sure Roy will tell us if anything changes. We need to get back."
"Yes sir," Chet said as he disposed of his coffee, rinsing the mug out. Marco and Mike followed suit, and together the three of them left.
Once they were gone, Hank caught Dixie's eye before looking to Roy. The Captain was worried about his man, especially since the paramedic seemed to be locked in a world of his own. He had yet to look at anything but the coffee mug since taking his first sip. With nod of understanding, Dixie quietly slipped out, leaving the two firemen alone.
Hank took the seat across from Roy and tapped the younger man lightly on the hand. Roy looked up at his Captain, a world of hurt in his eyes. "I should have known the signs when I saw them… Cap… I'm a paramedic… I should have…"
"I'm a firefighter. I have been for over twenty years, Roy. I know exactly what smoke inhalation looks like. I didn't see them either."
"But I'm a paramedic!" Roy shouted, slamming his hands on the table, "I should know!"
Hank didn't even flinch, "Roy, does being a paramedic give you special powers? Does it make you super human?"
"He's my partner! I see him just about every day. I know when he's hurt or sick, sometimes before even he does. I should have known."
And there it was, the guilt that Johnny had been trying so hard to warn him about. "We all know the signs Roy. Not just you, not this time. All of us. None of us wanted to think about it. Marco made it out on an empty tank and was just fine, why wouldn't Johnny be? Every fireman knows that fire is the enemy, we always forget that smoke kills many more of us."
"But I should have…" Roy said, deflating. He rested his head in his hands, exhausted.
Hank took a sip of his coffee, wondering why he never noticed just how similarly stubborn Roy and Johnny were. Then, once again, the words Johnny said came back to him. "What did John mean when he said, "stop it"?"
Roy sighed again, "Stop thinking about it. Stop over thinking. Stop dwelling. Stop…"
"Blaming yourself?" Hank finished when Roy's voice caught.
A nod was his only answer.
"Good advice," Hank commented, taking another sip.
"Easier said than done…"
"Yes, it is, but it is still good advice. Roy, you are a damn good paramedic. And the two of you are the best team out there, without a doubt. I know for a fact that you were watching over him, that you had already begun to make plans to have him come over after shift. I bet you already had an excuse picked out so that he wouldn't even suspect that you were watching him. Because I know you saw the signs, I know you were thinking it.
"I also know that, like Mike, like Marco, like Chet, and like me, you didn't want to think about it. For ten very horrible minutes this afternoon we thought he was lost in that fire. We thought we had lost him. When he came out, we just wanted him to be okay. We didn't want to think about the risks. Sure he coughed, sure he was tired and his head hurt, but we had just worked a fire. He was dizzy? Well, hadn't he just stood up too fast? We all ignored the symptoms, even me. You may be a paramedic Roy, but I'm the Captain. My number one job, my only real job, is to make sure you all make it home. I almost failed in that today, and you prevented that."
Roy looked up at his Captain then, surprised. Hank gave him a tired half smile and a nod, "I mean it Roy. You saved his life, and you saved a huge part of me. I have never lost a man, and if I ever did, I don't think I would be fit to wear this uniform. Thank you."
"Cap… I…" Roy began, but he had no idea what to say so he ended up just swallowing his words.
Hank nodded, understanding all the same. He stood up and moved towards the sink, giving Roy a pat on the shoulder. "I'll make sure the squad comes back to get you. I know the guys will want an update."
"Yes sir," Roy said, "and thank you."
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Johnny was stable, that was the good news. The bad news was that Johnny hadn't just eaten smoke. There were indications that he had breathed in zinc oxide, which made everything that much worse. It meant the vent was staying for some time, and Johnny was immediately started on steroid treatments as well as antibiotics. It was going to be a race against the universe to prevent pneumonia and any other infection that was trying to form.
Roy sat at his bedside, pretending to read a paper, all the while listening to the sounds of the ventilator and the steady beeping of the heart monitor. He had made it back to the station with Jim and Frank. He had found all of A shift and B shift eagerly awaiting an update on Johnny and had given them the solemn news about the zinc oxide. Everyone there knew that breathing in carbon monoxide was one thing, but anything more than that was an uphill fight to recover from.
There were murmurs of apologies and well wishes, and expressions of sympathy before Roy excused himself to head to the lockers. Hank stopped him for a moment to inform him that Joanne was on the way to get him. That news brought a fleeting smile to his lips, and even though it didn't reach his eyes, it was still good to see. By the time Roy was cleaned and changed, Joanne was there in the kitchen passing out fresh muffins to the men in the station.
Once she saw him however, she gave the responsibility to Hank, who took it willingly, and made her way to her husband. She lightly kissed his cheek, before taking his hand and leading him out. Normally, such actions would have earned Roy a fair bit of jibes, but not this time. Not today.
Joanne didn't even bother asking if Roy wanted to go home, instead driving to Rampart. She did, make it clear, however, he was going to eat something and she was staying. Roy was a wise man who chose not to argue. And that was how he spent the day, Joanne and he sitting by Johnny's beside while the doctors and nurses came and went, running their tests and switching out the IVs. Joanne had left about a half hour ago to pick up the children, and stated that when she returned they were going out to eat and Roy would then be expected to come home for the night. This had been seconded by Dixie, who had stated in no uncertain terms that she would be spending much of the night with Johnny and Roy was to get plenty of rest.
"Hey there Roy," came a voice from the doorway.
Roy looked up and was surprised to see Dr. Morton there. The young physician looked tired, and concerned. "Hey doc," Roy greeted.
Morton walked over to Johnny and flipped through the chart for a moment before setting back into place. "How is the hose jockey?" he asked, meeting Roy's eyes.
Roy had to smile at that, for all the bickering Morton and Johnny did back and forth, no one could argue that the two were friends. They just liked to pretend otherwise. "He's holding steady," Roy said, "between the steroids and breathing treatments… he's holding steady."
Morton nodded, "the last blood test didn't show any signs of infection. I mean, there's always a chance, higher one with intubation, but so far…"
Roy nodded, taking the news with the grain of salt it deserved. It wasn't that it wasn't a good sign, but as Morton said, as long as the tube was down Johnny's throat, infection was a high risk.
With a sigh Morton made his way to the door, "I've been on shift for the last forty eight hours and I'm going home. Tell the idiot that he better be awake when I come back in. He doesn't get to sleep longer than me."
Roy chuckled, "Yes sir, Doctor."
A smile tugged at Morton's lips before he left.
Roy slumped, feeling drained and defeated. He looked over at Johnny shaking his head. "Only you can do this Junior," he mumbled.
"Roy? Joanne is back," came Dixie's voice from the doorway.
With a tired sigh, Roy looked up at his friend, "You'll call?"
"The moment anything changes. I promise," she answered coming over to take the seat opposite Roy.
Another sigh, and Roy managed to haul himself out of his seat. "See you tomorrow Junior," he said and he gave Dixie a quick hug before departing.
She watched him go for a moment, before she pulled out a book. "Let's see, the last time you were here we read Tom Sawyer, therefore, I think it's time to read Huckleberry Finn."
-line-
Joe Early sat in the chair that Dixie had vacated not too long ago. He was, in a way, paying penance for his perceived failure. After all, he was the doctor who had spoken to Johnny after the fire. He had been the one who should have seen the signs. If he had paid just a little more attention, if he had pressed Johnny for just a little more detail, they could have begun breathing treatments sooner. Early treatments would have prevented all of this….
With a sigh, Joe pushed those thoughts out of his mind; it would do no good to anyone if he berated himself. As Kel had told him the night before, smoke inhalation can easily be over looked, especially in the early stages. And especially when the patient is John Gage who is forever trying to dodge a hospital stay. Still, Joe felt he owed Johnny an apology. Which is exactly why he found himself reading Huckleberry Finn.
"Hey doc," Roy said softly from the doorway, catching the doctor mid page.
Joe straightened in his seat and set aside the book with a smile as he looked up at Roy. "Hi Roy, you're here early. Visiting hours doesn't start for another forty minutes."
Roy shrugged and gave a sheepish smile, "I snuck past the nurse." The paramedic walked into the room coming up to stand next to Johnny's side opposite Joe. He looked over his partner, taking in the improved color, the steady heart rate, and the even breathing. The tube, IVs and, monitors were still in place but overall he looked to be improving and Roy said as much.
Joe nodded, "the steroids and breathing treatments are working. His vitals are stable and holding their own. Another day, he may be off the vent."
"What about infection?" Roy asked, a knot tying in his stomach.
The knot didn't ease any when Joe sighed. "He's spiked a fever last night. It hasn't broken yet, but it isn't climbing. There's some wheezing as well, but that could just be the lingering effects or…"
"The onset of infection," Roy finished, flopping into a chair with a heavy sigh.
Joe nodded, "I'm afraid it's a possibility. Of course, it's also possible the fever's just a side effect of the strain to his body."
"We're talking about Johnny here, doc…" Roy mumbled.
Joe had to laugh at that as he stood. "You're right, we are," he confirmed, giving Roy a pat on his shoulder. "He's stable Roy, remember that."
Roy nodded as the doctor left. He would remember that Johnny was stable, but he'd also remember that Johnny had vomited and breathed in smoke….
-line-
It was hard to breathe. He knew he was breathing, but it was so hard. And there was something stuck in his throat. He tried to lift his hands to clear it, but something was holding him down...
"Johnny, look at me," a voice called.
Not something then, someone was holding his arms down. But why weren't they helping him? Couldn't they see the thing in his throat?
"Just breathe easy… just take it easy. You're alright…" the voice soothed, and Johnny knew he trusted that voice, even if he couldn't remember why. "That's it, nice and steady. You're alright… can you open your eyes? Johnny, I need you to try and open your eyes…."
'Well, that's not fair to ask', Johnny thought as he struggled to even out his breathing. Everything felt so heavy, and he had to cough around whatever was stuck in his throat… how the heck did Roy expect him to open his eyes?
Roy… it was Roy's voice he was hearing… Roy was asking him to do something and it seemed real important to him that he did. Well if that didn't beat all… he'd have to open his eyes now.
It was a struggle and a half, though. The lights were too bright, his eyelids were too heavy, and the effort made him dizzy, but he could hear Roy encouraging him. In fact, he could hear a whole lot of other things too. He could hear Dr. Brackett giving orders to Dixie and another nurse. He could hear the sounds of monitors and a ventilator….
'Uhoh….' He thought, 'what have I done to myself now?'
"That's it John, open your eyes," this time the voice was Kel's, but Johnny could still feel Roy's hands on his arms.
Johnny managed to open his eyes, just to slits, but apparently it was enough for the room. "There you go Johnny," he heard Roy say, and he could sense the relief.
Johnny blinked a couple of times before the world above him came into focus. He could see everyone standing over him. He wanted to say something funny, but there was a tube in his mouth. Still, it seemed everyone was smiling…
-line-
It wasn't too long after that, that the tube was removed from Johnny's throat, although he remained in the ICU. His fever hadn't broken and he was still wheezing, there was no doubt that he had an infection. Now all they really had to do was see how bad of an infection it was going to be.
Luckily, though, the head nurse of the ICU turned a blind eye to the fireman who 'snuck' in to see the young paramedic. Since they seemed to be the only ones who came by, she figured, sadly, that they were probably the only family he had.
Throughout the day, all of Station 51 A shift had come to see him, and many of the other paramedics who worked out of Rampart. Johnny had managed short conversations, though it clearly pained his irritated throat, at which point Roy politely kicked them out. The only visitor Roy didn't kick out was Joanne, and that was because she brought food.
Johnny was sound asleep when she walked in, but the smell of homemade meatloaf instantly made him stir. Joanne had to shake her head at that, "well, clearly you must be feeling better if you're letting your stomach do your thinking."
Johnny gave her a weak smile as his eyes fluttered open. He was too tired and sore to say much, but the smile was all she needed.
"Same old Johnny, eat before he thinks," Roy teased as he took the plate Joanne handed him.
Johnny glared at his partner and attempted to say something. The attempt turned into a painful coughing fit however, that had Roy setting aside the plate and helping the younger man to sit up. "Easy there Junior, slow breaths…" he coached and after a few seconds, Johnny was pushing him away.
Joanne, though she kept her smile on her face, was wincing at how awful the cough sounded. She didn't have to be a paramedic to know that, that cough was bad. A look at her husband's face was all the evidence she needed to support that knowledge.
"Hi… Jo…" Johnny wheezed out, though it cost him in both pain and strength.
"Rough day, huh?" she asked sympathetically.
Johnny shrugged and gave her a dull version of his normal smile.
"Well, I don't have meatloaf for you, but I do have some soup. I figured that might be easier on you to eat."
Johnny gave an appreciative nod as he shakily took the offered thermos. He didn't argue when Joanne poured him a small amount so he could drink it down. "It's nothing fancy, really it's just broth, but I think it'll do your throat a world of good," she said as she watched Johnny sip it.
The young man didn't think that anything 'fancy' could ever compare to the wonder that was that broth in that moment. He drank slowly, giving his throat time to acclimate to the temperature of the liquid and, more honestly, to savor. Sighing with deep satisfaction as he finished the mug, Johnny whispered, "perfect," much to the others' amusement. He set the mug down, suddenly very sleepy.
"It's okay John, you can sleep," Joanne said soothingly as she brushed back some hair from his face. She didn't like how warm he felt and she glanced to Roy.
Roy watched, finishing up his own dinner, as Johnny's eyes began to close of their own will. He could feel his wife's gaze on him and the weight of her questions, but he didn't want to answer them until Johnny was asleep. It would only be about a minute more anyways, despite his partner's best attempts to stay awake. When he did fall asleep, that was when Roy met Joanne's eyes.
"He has the early signs of aspiration pneumonia. The antibiotics are still running, but his body's taking a while to respond. The doctors are worried about lung abscess because of the smoke inhalation and vomiting." Roy answered the unasked question.
"But he's off the ventilator, so that's good. Right?" Jo asked, resting her hand on top of Johnny's.
Roy shrugged before shaking his head, "Right now he's breathing on his own. But he's really struggling to do so. They took him off the vent so that they could help strengthen his lungs and help stop irritating them. He's just not responding to the antibiotics though…"
"Why not?"
"Any number of reasons… stress is the most likely however. His body is still trying to recover from everything else and now it's got an infection to deal with…" Roy sighed, suddenly feeling very old.
Joanne released Johnny's hand and came to sit next to her husband. She gently took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. "What aren't you telling me?"
"His fever's climbing and has been for the last couple of hours. And the last blood gasses weren't good… They may have to put him back on the vent."
"Will that… can that hurt him?" Jo asked, feeling her heart flutter just a bit in fear.
"It's not a good thing… it would be taking several steps backwards and in the long run… the damage could be permanent."
Joanne squeezed Roy's hand a little harder, her face paling. Damage to his lungs could very well end Johnny's career and that would kill the young man. "There are other things they can do first, right? Humidified air?" she asked.
Roy nodded, "They've been doing breathing treatments pretty steadily. He has another one in about an hour. I can't tell you if they've been helping or not."
"I would say that he's young and strong and in the best possible place with the best possible people taking care of him, but you've heard that about a hundred times," Jo said softly, "So how about you hand me that book over there and I'll pick up where you left off so you can go pick up the kids and have some time away?"
Roy smiled tiredly, amazed once again by how his wife could help ease his worry, and handed her Dixie's copy of Huckleberry Finn."It's getting to the good part," he said as he stood up.
Jo smiled and gave Roy's hand a soft pat before shooing him out. Some time with Chris and Jen was exactly what her husband needed, and she knew that. "Take them out for ice cream, they've both been very good today," she instructed, "and Roy, they only know that Johnny is sick, not how sick."
Roy nodded, "Do you want me to tell them?"
"I think so. Just enough so they understand he's going to take a bit to get well," she said and watched her husband. He sighed and nodded, understanding her intentions as she knew he would. If Johnny got better, the children would need to know how long it would be before they could see him. If Johnny didn't get better and all they knew is that he had been sick, then it would be a horrible shock to them. There needed to be a balance.
"I'll talk to them," Roy said and gave Jo a kiss before leaving the room.
She watched him a moment before she settled into a chair and opened the book. She was about to start reading when she felt eyes on her and looked up. She wasn't at all surprised to see Johnny semi-awake and looking at her. "Hello John," she said with a smile.
Johnny sleepily returned it for a moment before his face grew serious and he met her eyes, "Tell him to stop, Jo. Make sure... he... stops…" the rest of the words were lost in a coughing fit that shook the young man's body. All Jo could do was help him to sit up and rub circles in his back in hopes it would ease the pain. She felt absolutely useless as she watched him.
Eventually, the coughing eased and he was able to resume his more comfortable resting position. His eyes remained closed, and his breathing was still ragged, but Jo knew he was awake. He was waiting for a response from her. "I promise Johnny, I'll do my best to make him stop, but I'm going to need your help," she said softly understanding what John had been telling her.
Johnny nodded once before his breathing evened out. Joanne listened for a moment as the machines buzzed and beeped and Johnny wheezed. The wheezing was an awful sound and she hated hearing it, she hated knowing what it meant. With a sigh she skimmed down the page of the book in her lap and began reading from where it appeared that her husband had left off.
-line-
It was eleven at night when Johnny hit the crisis phase.
Dixie was with him then, she had finished the book and was now just resting, when Johnny had begun coughing. It was a little cough at first, not something to be terribly alarmed about, but it quickly changed. It had gone from a dry, almost throat cough, into a wet deep chest cough in a blink of an eye. Dixie sounded the alarm as quick as she could before jumping into high gear.
By the time help had arrived, Johnny's body was shaking and Dixie had already begun the process of suctioning out dark green phlegm. Right away, Dr. Joe Early got to work, assessing his friend from head to toe. The nurse that had come with him went about collecting his vitals while Dixie continued to maintain Johnny's airway.
"Fever is one hundred and four, doctor," the young nurse said, "Pulse is one hundred. Blood pressure is one thirty over forty. His respiration is twenty five, shallow and rapid."
"He's wheezing… and I hear rales…" Joe mumbled as he pulled his stethoscope out of his ears. "Shannon, would you please draw a full set of blood and get X ray back up here. Dixie, I think we're going to have to intubate again."
Dixie nodded solemnly. She handed Joe the suction tube while she set about gathering the trays. Shannon finished gathering the blood samples and called down first to X ray, than to the lab to make sure that they knew the incoming lab work was to be rushed.
"What do you think, Joe?" Dixie asked after Shannon had left. The experienced nurse didn't like the sound of Johnny's breathing, the harshness of his cough, or the fact that he wasn't waking up with all the poking and prodding.
Joe sighed as another coughing fit shook the young firefighter lying on the bed. "I think he has pneumonia. And I think his lungs are too weak to handle it," came the honest answer. "Could you call Kel for me?"
Dixie nodded and did as requested. She had just picked up the phone when Joe added one last request.
"Call Roy too please. He's listed as Johnny's next of kin. We're going to need him to help make some decisions…."
Dixie swallowed hard; she did not want to have to wake either Kel or Roy up in the middle of the night for this.
-line-
Roy sat with a cup of coffee in his hand that had long since turned cold. Johnny was on the ventilator again. He had agreed to let the medical staff put him back on the vent after speaking with both Dr. Bracket and Dr. Early. It had been the most obvious solution to stabilizing Johnny, whose condition was deteriorating as they spoke about how to save him. It still felt like a betrayal.
"Come on Johnny… don't do this…" Roy sighed, eyes moving from his partner's face to the monitors. For now, as far as Roy could see, Johnny looked stable.
But looking stable and being stable were two different things. The last few hours had told the medical team a lot about Johnny's ever changing condition. The blood gases revealed that most of the carbon monoxide and zinc out of his system. That was the only good news. His white blood count was through the roof and his oxygen levels were down. His body was fighting and fighting hard, but it wasn't winning.
"Please don't do this…" Roy whispered again looking from the monitor to his friend's face.
"Roy?" came a familiar, often reassuring, voice from the doorway. Only this time the voice that was usually so steady, so even, held fear that even the owner of the voice didn't attempt to hide.
Roy turned to face his captain, the fear in his eyes matching the fear in Hank's voice. "I… I'm sorry to wake you. I know we have to be at the station tomorrow…"
Hank waved him off as he walked over to the bed, "He's one of mine, Roy, I'd be mad at you if you hadn't called." Hank looked over the youngest of his crew with a fatherly gaze hating every bit of what he saw. The ventilator was back in place, fever spots were the only color to his face, and Johnny was motionless. John Gage was never motionless.
Hank closed his eyes and sighed as he sank into a nearby chair. Something told him he'd need to be sitting for Roy's report. "How bad?" he asked, although he could guess.
"He's weak. His body's already been through so much and now this…"
Hank swallowed back the lump forming in his throat. "Are we going to lose him Roy?" Hank asked.
There was no answer from the paramedic.
-Line-
Morning roll call was a somber affair. The men of A shift couldn't miss the fact that they had two stand ins for their paramedics and they were well aware of what that meant. Their captain stood in front of them looking every bit his age, older in fact, and he moved with a sluggishness that spoke volumes. All the men could feel the somberness and the outright fear that filled the bay, and it tied their stomachs in knots.
"Before we get started," Hank said softly, looking at his men, his voice soft though not soft enough to ease the coming blow. "Last night Johnny took a turn for the worst. He's fighting pneumonia at the moment and had to be put back on the vent. The hospital is doing everything they can…"
"What are his chances Cap?" Chet asked as the Captain's words drifted off. The line man's voice was tight and Hank couldn't help but notice that he, like all the others, looked scared.
"Right now it's hard to say. As of now he's not responding to the antibiotics. That, however, can change at any moment. Roy's promised to keep us updated. I'm sorry, that the best I can offer," Hank answered, looking each of his men in the eyes.
He allowed them all a long moment to gather themselves before he continued with the roll call and assigning tasks. Each man seemed lost in a world of their own when the dispersed and Hank could see the weight of the world crushing their sprits. Their youngest brother was slipping away, and they were unable to do anything about it. It was an unfair burden for these men.
Hank sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, allowing himself a long moment to collect his thoughts and find his strength. When he looked around again, he found Mike staring at Big Red, seemingly lost in thought. Concerned, for the engineer's expression looked so out of place, Hank walked over to his friend. "Mike?" he called softly, as to not attract anyone else's attention.
The engineer didn't startle, nor did he look at his captain, he simply stated, "Big Red doesn't bear the weight of coffins well, Cap."
-Line-
Dr. Bracket was at a loss for a solution. He slumped in his office chair with Johnny's chart open in front of him. With every passing second he could feel the young man slipping away and he had no way of stopping it. He had given him round after round of fluids, steroids, and antibiotics. He had prescribed every breathing treatment he could think of, had tried to break the fever to see if that would help, he had tried everything he could think of and still Johnny wasn't improving.
'He's not getting worse either…' Kel reminded himself, for it was true. The young man had regained a tenuous stability over the last few hours, but even that wasn't terribly reassuring. His fever was still too high, his lungs were still weaker than they should be, his oxygen levels were still not where they should be, and his white blood cell count was too high. But, he wasn't getting worse.
"Damn it Hose Jockey, give me something to go off of…" Kel sighed leaning forward on his desk and rubbing his eyes.
His office door opened and he heard the sounds of familiar footsteps approach his desk. Looking up, he gave a tired half smile as he watched Dixie come towards him with a mug of coffee. "Hey Dix," he offered, not bothering to hide the exhaustion and defeat from his voice. It wouldn't do any good, anyhow, Dixie could always tell.
"No magic answer, huh?" she asked sounding equally as tired and defeated as she took a seat across from Kel. She slid the coffee over to him and gave his hand a squeeze before leaning back and settling herself.
"The only thing I'm holding onto is that he's not getting worse," Kel admitted before taking a sip of the coffee. "I've tried everything that the medical books tell me will work and even some things that they don't tell us. I just don't know what else to do… I can't keep him on the vent much longer or that could do permanent damage but I can't take him off it without killing him…. I don't know what to do."
Dixie nodded and sighed, "Almost makes you want to try some home remedies…"
Kel snorted at that, "I'm not sure I'm that desperate… Yet…."
Dixie smiled at that, "So you haven't given up completely then?"
"No, there's something I'm missing. I just have to figure out what it is."
Dixie nodded and she looked at the chart on Kel's desk with a considering gaze. "You know Kel, we've been treating this as your standard aspiration pneumonia. But what if it's not?"
Kel looked at Dixie a little confused, "I don't follow."
"Well, I was speaking with one of the victims that Roy and Johnny brought in from the fire and he told me that the smelting factory also did electroplating. They had just started a new project in fact. It was the electroplating machine that they suspected started the fire…."
Suddenly a light bulb went off in Kel's head and he reached for his desk phone, "Dixie! I could kiss you!" He quickly dialed the number for the ICU and waited impatiently, when the nurse finally answered he didn't even let her finish her greeting. "This is Dr. Bracket, I need you to do another round of blood work on John Gage, this time focusing on heavy metals in his blood. Tell the lab to rush it. I need those results as quickly as they can give them to me."
-Line-
"So it wasn't pneumonia?" Roy asked as he watched Dr. Bracket hang a new set of antibiotics.
"No, it wasn't. Or at least, it wasn't the biggest problem. Metal Fume Fever was, and that takes a whole different sent of antibiotics then what we've been giving Johnny," Kel said as he finished adjusting the drip.
"What is Metal Fume Fever?" Roy asked.
"A Heavy metal poisoning for your lungs, essentially. It's most common in welders or anyone who's exposed to the fumes and dust of heavy metals like zinc. When the smelting facility burned, it released heavy metals into the air that Johnny breathed in along with the smoke. In his weaken state, his body couldn't fight off the mix," Kel answered looking at Roy. The doctor took note of how tired and worn down the paramedic looked and frowned. "We caught it Roy, he's going to be alright now," Kel said softly.
The paramedic nodded. He had been sitting in the hospital room watching his partner fight for his life too long to really believe those words at the moment. "What about permanent damage?"
"Johnny may develop some complications later on, but it's not going to be debilitating. The antibiotics we were giving him prevented pneumonia and this treatment I've started him on has been proven to help with Metal Fume Fever. This is his first major exposer to it, so as long as he's careful, he should still be able to work. He should start improving soon."
Roy nodded, eyes locked on Johnny's face. Kel didn't like this zombie version of the paramedic. It reminded the doctor of his time in Vietnam treating soldiers who had seen way too much. "Roy, I want you to go home. Tell your firehouse about the new diagnoses. Get something to eat, see your family, and then get some sleep. I'll stay with Johnny, and call you if there's any change. Those are doctor's orders Hose Jockey."
Roy smiled slightly at Kel's tone of voice, it was the same tone that he used on Johnny. "Yes sir," he said with a tired sigh. He knew that he should feel some sort of relief, he knew that Dr. Bracket had most likely found the cure for Johnny, he just couldn't bring himself to be reassured. Not until Johnny was off the vent and up and talking. Not until he had proof that Johnny was going to be okay.
But that was going to take time.
-Line-
As he had said he would, Kel remained with Johnny throughout the night. Occasionally he had to leave to go check on a patient or offer assistance to one of his fellow physicians. When he did, however, Dixie or Joe were there to take his place. Even Morton had stopped in a few times to let him stretch his legs. But for the majority of the night, he stayed there.
He was worried. He was worried that it may have been too late to start the correct treatment. He was worried that Johnny's lungs would be scarred; too scarred to let him continue as a firefighter. He was worried that Johnny was too weak to keep fighting, that the fever had been too high for too long and his brain was fried. He was worried that he had lied to Roy. He was worried that he had failed not just one friend, but two.
He was worried right up until the moment that John Gage opened his eyes.
"John?" Kel called, instantly reaching out to hit the call button. "John, can you hear me?"
The young man looked over to him, his eyes unfocused and a little glossy, but that didn't bother Kel one bit.
"John, if you can understand me, blink once," he ordered as the hospital room door opened and began to bustle with ordered chaos. Kel ignored it, his focus on John. He was starting to take note of the sweat on the young man's brow, the color that seemed to be returning to his checks, and how his eyes began to focus.
John looked away from the doctor for a moment, confused by the noise and people rushing around him. He flinched and tried to jerk away when a needle was stuck in his arm for more blood work. He became agitated when someone tried to take his vitals. He started to panic when he began to realize that there was tube in his throat. He became aware of how hot and cold he was and he wanted desperately to move but couldn't find the energy…
"John," Kel barked, finally regaining the young man's attention. "If you can understand me, blink once."
Johnny started up at the doctor for a long moment, recognition coming slowly, but it did come. And Johnny managed to blink once, though it was a lot harder than he thought it would be. Still, Dr. Bracket seemed pleased.
Kel smiled, a tired but real smile, "That's good Johnny, that's good. Johnny, do you know who I am?"
Again Johnny blinked once, since that seemed to be the way to say yes with a tube in his throat.
Kel nodded, "Is my name Joe? Once for yes, twice for no," then Kel held his breath.
Johnny blinked twice, and Kel sighed with relief. It was going to take many more tests to ensure that Johnny was still Johnny, and he knew that, but for now the doctor was relieved. "Good job Hose Jockey… You had us worried there for a bit, but I think you're going to be alright now."
Johnny wondered what Bracket was talking about as he felt himself drift off to sleep.
-Line-
Hank groaned at the annoying sound of the phone. He could hear his fellow shift mates also mutter and move in their bunks as they too were awakened. It was twelve in the morning, and they had all had a long day. If the person on the other end of that line wasn't important Hank was going to kill them…
Groggily he felt around for the offensive object, managing to pick it up on the fourth ring. "Station 51, Captain Hank Stanley," he mumbled sleepily into the handset.
"Cap, it's Roy," came the voice of his senior paramedic and instantly Hank was awake. "Johnny, he woke up and his fever broke. I'm on my way to the hospital now.
"So the treatment worked?" Hank asked, his heart racing with excitement. This was the first good news he had heard in nearly a week.
"Yeah… apparently," Roy answered, his voiced slightly choked with emotion. Hank could only imagine the relief that the young man was felling.
"Go keep your eye on him Roy, we'll be there after shift," Hank said, his voice fatherly.
"Yes sir," Roy answered before hanging up.
Hank smiled, his first real one in days, as he too hung up.
"Cap?" Marco called sleepily, wanting to know what was happening.
This time, Hank had no trouble delivering the news, "John's awake."
-Line-
Roy sat at Johnny's bedside once again, though this time he was much more hopeful. Johnny was still on the vent, but they had already begun to wean him off it. His fever was drastically down and he was beginning to stay awake for longer periods. Each time he opened his eyes, it took him less and less time to recognize where he was and what was going on. He was even able to move around more and more and was starting to fight the tube in his throat.
The best news for Roy, however, was that Johnny could recognize him almost instantly. With all the focus on Johnny's lungs and breathing, he had forgotten the damage prolonged high-grade fevers and low oxygen levels could do. He could not express the relief he felt when he had walked into the room and see Johnny try to smile. The young man had made his best attempt to wave at his partner, the only real indication that he could give he recognized him. It had nearly brought Roy to tears, that simple action.
Now he sat in the chair by Johnny's bed, no longer watching the monitors but his partner's face. He wanted to be there each and every time he woke up, just to reassure himself.
There was a knock on the door and Roy turned to see the entirety of A shift standing there. He gave them a tired, but warm smile. "He's sleeping," Roy answered the unasked question. He chuckled when he heard their collective sigh of relief and they shuffled in.
"Has he been able to stay awake at all?" Marco asked as he settled himself in a chair.
"Yeah, a little bit. Longest he's stayed awake is about twenty minutes," Roy answered.
"That doesn't seem like a long time," Chet commented.
"Believe me, it is when you've been in a coma. He's come a long way pretty fast, actually," Roy said.
"Do they know anything about whether or not he'll have permanent damage?" Mike asked, the only man brave enough to address the elephant in the room.
Roy gave a tired sigh and shook his head, "Each time he wakes up he's been able to answer questions. So, as far as we can tell his brain is okay. His lungs have everybody a little worried, but we can't determine anything until he's off the vent."
"When will that be?" Hank asked, a little worried.
"Sometime today or tomorrow. They just started weaning him," Roy said as he looked back to Johnny. He smiled when he saw the young man was awake again, "Hey there Junior. You back with us?"
Johnny blinked once in response before scanning the room. The corners of his mouth tilted up in an attempt to smile and he gave the men gathered there a small wave. It made them laugh with relief.
"Hi ya Johnny," Chet said for all gathered.
-Line-
It was a few days later and Johnny had been settled in a normal room, now completely free of the vent. He was one day shy of being released now that his fever had broken completely and the coughing had subsided greatly. He was still weak and still had about a month of recovering to do, but he was going to recover.
The fever and the low oxygen had affected his short-term memory somewhat; he didn't remember the fire very clearly or the first time he woke in the hospital. But other than that, he was cleared neurologically. As for his lungs, that would have to wait until he fully recovered from the pneumonia. Still, Dr. Bracket didn't feel there was any cause for concern.
Now Johnny enjoyed the peace and quiet of Rampart, or more accurately, Johnny was lying in his bed trying not to go stir crazy. He had had numerous visitors throughout the last few days. Every member of Station 51 from A shift to C shift had stopped in to see him. Marco had brought his mother, much to Johnny's joy. He adored Mrs. Lopez very much because of her warmth and honest compassion. That and she loved to feed him….
The Captain had stopped by with his wife and Johnny had been ordered to dinner as soon as he was well enough. Chet had come by with his niece and some burgers and milk shakes. Mike and his wife had come by and spent some time just sitting and talking. And through it all Roy and Joanne had taken turns being there with him.
With a tired sigh, he resettled himself on his bed grumbling about how his bunk was more comfortable. He was so very tired, but he couldn't find it in him to sleep; he had too much restless energy. He had tried reading but couldn't find anything to hold his focus. Everything on TV was boring, so that was out. With resignation, Johnny leaned back against the pillows and attempted to relax.
"You're still sleeping?" Roy called from the door as he entered the room.
"It's the only thing I can do," Johnny grumbled, but he offered his friend a half smile to soften the complaint. It wasn't Roy's fault that Johnny was bored, and he would be damned if he made the man feel any responsibility for this little episode.
Roy chuckled as he sat in one of the chairs, "Well, at least you get out tomorrow."
"Oh yeah, so I can go home and sleep all day in my apartment instead of here… Roy, I'm tired of sleeping."
Roy chuckled again at the earnest way Johnny said that, "Didn't know it could be so exhausting, huh?"
"To say the least. Ya know, I think I'm more tired now than I was after that brush fire last month. It's crazy, how can I be so tired when all I've been doing is sleeping?"
"I don't know Johnny, I don't know…" Roy sighed out the last of his amusement before turning more serious, "Listen Johnny, I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow."
Johnny eyed his partner, he had a nagging suspicion where this was going, "What about it?"
"Well, Joanne and I were talking, and we'd like to offer to put you up for a couple weeks once you get out of here," Roy said.
"Roy… Now, that's not fair to either of you…" Johnny answered, his face set. Johnny didn't remember much from his time in the ICU, but he did remember that nearly every time he woke up either Joanne or Roy had been there. He could clearly remember Roy looking exhausted and more stressed than he had ever seen him sleeping in a chair one of the times he had woken and he had known that Roy looked that way because of him. He couldn't remember what the conversation was about, but he could clearly remember hearing Joanne cry softly and he knew it had been his fault.
This past week and a half had been hard on Johnny, but it had been hell on two of the people he cared about most in the world. And it had been his fault. Sure, it wasn't intentional, and he had had no control over anything that had happened, but he had been the source of so much anxiety…. He just wanted to allow them, to allow everyone, time away from him. Time to regroup and focus on themselves and what was truly important.
"Johnny, stop it," Roy said softly getting the younger man's attention. "You were… you almost died," Roy continued, his face showing more emotion then he intended, "We all, Joanne, the kids, the guys and their families, we all were worried because you're a part of us Johnny. You're our family, and we just want to make sure you're alright."
"But Roy, You've already done that. I'm fine, I'm going home tomorrow…"
"Yeah, I know. You're going home tomorrow and I'm going back on shift so you'll be alone. And what happens if you having a coughing fit that turns into an asthma attack? What happens if you get a dizzy spell and fall over and hit your head?"
"I patch myself up?" Johnny offered, a half smile on his face, "I am a paramedic…."
Roy glared at Johnny for a moment before the corners of his mouth twitched up and he had to look away or he'd laugh. "John Gage…. You are the most frustrating person…. since when do paramedics eat a factory full of smoke, huh?"
"Well, I was a rescue man…." Johnny offered.
"Uhhuh… you're nothing but an old smoke eater, aren't you?"
Johnny laughed though his laughter was cut short by a coughing fit. It was a small one that didn't even last a minute, but it still had Roy worried. "This is what I'm talking about, Johnny," he said as he handed his partner a glass of water.
Johnny sighed as he took a tentative sip, "Pneumonia Roy, I'm bound to have a few coughing fits here and there."
"I know that, but what if…"
"Roy, stop it. Stop blaming yourself. I know for a fact none of this is your fault. You don't have to look after me, I promise I can take care of myself."
"I know that Johnny. I know all of that…." Roy grumbled, "why won't you let us help you?"
"Because you already have? Because I really just want to go home to my own bed and finish being sick in my own apartment?" 'Because I don't want to be a burden to anyone any longer,' Johnny finished in his head.
Roy studied him a moment, causing Johnny to squirm. He swore his partner could hear his thoughts. "You're not a burden Johnny. Please, just think about it?"
Johnny swallowed and looked away from his partner. "I'll think about it," he agreed after a moment.
"Good," Roy said as he stood and stepped off to the side. "By the way, there are people here to see you. Come on in guys!"
With that invitation, the hospital door all but burst open and in flew two very tiny bundles of energy. "Uncle Johnny! Uncle Johnny!" two voices chorused in unison as the both jumped on the bed.
Johnny laughed as he was tackled by the Desoto children in very energetic hugs, "Hey there guys!"
"Alright, alright, let your uncle breathe," called Roy as he came over and gently pulled the kids away from Johnny, setting them on the bed next to him.
"I told you two to be careful. Uncle Johnny's been very sick; you have to give him some space. Alright?" Joanne scolded lightly as she moved to stand by Roy.
"Yes mom," the two chimed before eagerly turning back to their uncle.
"Uncle Johnny! You're going to come play dollies with me?" Jenny called.
"I'm building a fort in the back yard Uncle Johnny! You're gonna help me right?" Chris called at the same time.
"Daddy says you're gonna come stay with us!" Jenny added.
"Yeah! Daddy even let me pick out movies we can watch!" Chris jumped in.
"He did, did he?" Johnny glared at his partner.
"He did. And I already have your room in order and there is no more argument from you. I will be here tomorrow at eleven to come and get you John Gage," Joanne said in her no mess voice.
Johnny shook his head and sighed, he knew he'd been beat. "What movies did you get Chris?" he asked giving in. the look of relief on Roy's face finally made something click in Johnny's head; allowing the Desoto's to take care of him was as much for their benefit as his.
He should have known sooner. After all, they were brothers. They were smoke eaters, and they would always be family.