NO EASY CHOICE

 

By:  Kenda

 

 

     *This story was inspired by Story Starter Number #7 as submitted to Tigger’s E! Site by Jean and Lisa.  Though I do not classify this as an alternate universe story, it does alter the Emergency timeline a bit.  It’s set in 1982, and rather than being station captains, Johnny and Roy are still partners at Station 51.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     Johnny sat alone in the dark nurse’s lounge.  He didn’t know why he’d turned off the overhead light.  He couldn’t remember doing it, but he must have.  Other than Hank Stanley for a few brief seconds, no one else had been present since Dixie brought him in here an hour ago, and Cap hadn’t turned the light on when he’d stuck his head in the door to speak with his paramedic.

 

     During periods of time when Johnny’s nerves wouldn’t allow him to remain seated he would walk over to the window and gaze at the parking lot.  It was still raining outside.  The drops bounced off the glass, reflecting like tiny jewels with the aid of the parking lot lights.  Anyone looking in wouldn’t be able to tell where the rain on the glass left off, and the trail of tears on Johnny’s face began.

 

     The paramedic shuffled back to the table where a cold cup of coffee awaited him.  Even though he’d tossed his turnout coat into the squad he still smelled like smoke.  The darkness outside reminded him it was late.  He should feel tired, but he didn’t.   Or at least he told himself he wasn’t tired.  He had no desire to fall asleep and risk dreaming about the events of tonight.  If he did, he knew he’d see Roy’s face again.  The horror of that sight had been bad enough the first time. 

 

     Johnny put his head in his hands and stared at the floor.  Did he do the right thing?   Did he make the right decision?  No answers were forthcoming. If Roy should die, he would have to tell Joanne.  Roy’s death would be his fault, and the responsibility of telling Roy’s family would fall on him.  Or would he have to tell Joanne her husband would never be the same?  Would he have to tell Chris his father could no longer go camping with him?  Would he have to tell Jennifer she’d attended her last Father/Daughter dance in February?  Would he have to tell John...good Lord his namesake was just three years old.  What the hell would he tell John?  That his daddy was never going to pitch a ball to him, or teach him how to ride a bike?  Maybe not be able to say his name or communicate with him?  Johnny knew those possibilities for Roy would be worse than death. 

 

     It’s my fault.  It’s my fault.  Whether he dies, or whether he lives with severe brain damage, it’s my fault.  It’s all my fault.

 

     Johnny heard the click of the doorknob turning.  A strip of light suddenly illuminated the room.  Out of the shadows he saw a woman’s form in white.  As his eyes adjusted he could tell it was Dixie.

 

     It didn’t surprise Johnny that Dixie McCall wasn’t going to allow him to sit in the dark.  As the door swung closed she hit the light switch on the wall, again causing him to squint for a few seconds.  He jumped from his chair and crossed the floor. He wanted to ask her how Roy was, but at the same time he didn’t want to know.  What he really wanted to do was turn back the clock.  Go back to supper at the station when they were all sitting around the table teasing Chet about something he could no longer recall.  Johnny did recall Chet pointing a finger at him and telling him the Phantom would get even. 

 

     Geez, Chet, if this is the Phantom’s idea of a prank it’s time everyone comes out laughing, agrees you’ve pulled another one over on Gullible Gage, and then we’ll   all go home. I don’t even think I’d be mad if only you guys would tell me this entire night has been some kind of elaborate practical joke.

 

     Dixie’s hand on his arm brought Johnny back to reality. No, of course this wasn’t a joke.  The look on Dixie’s face told him that much.

    

     Johnny tasted smoke when he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. 

 

     “How’s Roy?”

 

     The paramedic could hear the quiver in his voice and hated himself for it.  He knew he had to be a lot stronger than he was feeling right now if he was going to make it through the rest of this night. 

 

     “I don’t have an answer for you yet, other than to say they’ve got him stabilized for the moment.  His left arm is broken, though at this point it doesn’t look like surgery will be necessary.  He’s got three cracked ribs, and some internal bruising.  All in all he’s lucky as far as that goes.  Those injuries aren’t life threatening.  But the smoke. . .”

 

     Johnny nodded.  The smoke.  Roy had inhaled so much smoke.  And because of him, for so long.  Even in a house fire like the one they fought tonight smoke collects toxic fumes as it burns carpets, furniture, draperies, and walls. They weren’t really certain how long Roy had been without oxygen.  How long his air tank had been empty before Chet found him. 

 

     “He hasn’t regained consciousness then?”

 

     “No.  And his neurological responses are almost non-existent at this point.”

 

     Johnny took a deep, shuddering breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, but when he did all John saw was his partner’s death-like face as he hunched over him performing CPR in the ambulance.

 

     “Maybe I shouldn’t have even tried,” he muttered.

 

     “What?”

 

     Johnny opened his red rimmed eyes.  “Maybe. . .maybe death would have been better than the life he’ll have now.”

 

     “Johnny, you don’t know what kind of a life Roy is going to have now.  None of us do.  He might make a full recovery and--”

    

     “Or he might not.  I. . .I keep asking myself if I did the right thing.”

 

     “By working on him?  By bringing him back?” 

 

     Johnny could hear the shock in Dixie’s tone.

 

     “No.  I . . .Roy. . .the boy. . .I was the only paramedic on the scene.  I knew when I carried that boy out of the house he was going to die.  He was burned so badly, Dix.  I knew. . .I just knew.  But I had to work on him.  He still had a pulse.  It was my job to do everything I could.”

 

     “Of course it was your job.  And you did what anyone else in your position would have.”

 

     “But I knew Chet and Cap needed help with Roy.  I knew he had arrested, but I couldn’t stop working on the boy.  Maybe if I’d gotten an airway in Roy

sooner . . .but the boy’s brother and sister. . .they were standing there watching me.  Crying. . begging me to save their little brother . . .I. . .”

 

     The details Dixie knew about the house fire were sketchy at best.  The house had been huge, nothing less than a mansion she’d been told.  The father was involved in the movie industry in some capacity.  A producer or director someone had said.  He and his wife had gone out for the evening leaving their seventeen-year-old son in charge of his fourteen year old sister and eleven year old brother.  All three children were sleeping when the girl woke to the smell of smoke and the crackling of fire.  She and her older brother had fallen asleep in the sunken family room watching TV.  They managed to grab the family dog and get out of the house.  The eleven year old was up on the third story of the house in his room.  The stairs were already so engulfed in flames that his older siblings were unable to get to him, let alone rouse him.

 

     “Johnny, you did what you had to.  God left you few choices tonight.  You have to accept that.  You were the one who got to the boy first.  He was your responsibility.”

 

     “But I should have realized Roy wasn’t behind me.  I thought he was.  I thought he knew I’d found the kid.   I made a stupid rookie mistake.  The smoke was so thick.  I should have grabbed Roy’s coat to let him know I’d found the boy and we could leave.  He was standing right there in the hallway when I stepped from the boy’s room.  I thought he looked right at me.  But. . .but I guess I was wrong.  I’m trying to remember now and I’m not even sure if. . .God, Dix, I can’t even remember if he was really was looking at me.  Maybe his back was to me for all I know.  Maybe--”

 

     “Johnny, stop it!  Stop it now.  You’re second guessing yourself and you know as well as I do how detrimental that is in our professions.  You’re tired, you’re worried. . .just give yourself a break here, Johnny.  Just realize you did everything you could and quit berating yourself for the things you couldn’t.”

 

     “But what if one of those things would have saved my partner’s life?  Or would have kept him from living the rest of his life crippled by brain damage?”

 

     “We don’t know yet that either of those things are going to happen.”

 

     “Maybe not,” Johnny said as he turned away from the woman and crossed to the window once more,  “but they’re both a strong possibility.”

 

     Dixie had no reply for the paramedic because unfortunately, he was correct. She allowed the silence in the room to linger a full minute before breaking it.

 

     “Joanne and the kids just got here.  I put them in Kel’s office.”

 

     Johnny turned.  “The kids came with her?”

 

     “Chris drove her.  And I assume she didn’t want to leave Jenny and John home alone not knowing when she’d be returning.”

 

     Johnny nodded.  At thirteen Jennifer was now old enough to baby-sit John for a few hours at a stretch, but Joanne and Roy would never leave her and John alone throughout the night if sixteen-year-old Chris wasn’t going to be home as well.

 

     “Chris. . .God, where have the years gone?  To think he’s old enough to drive Joanne anywhere boggles my mind.”

 

     Dixie smiled.  She knew Chris had been five when Johnny and Roy teamed up as paramedics for the first time back in January of 1972.  Now it was November of ‘82, and the boy was just  a year and a half away from high school graduation.

 

     “I haven’t given them any details other than to let them know Roy is holding his own.  Both Kel and Joe are with Roy

so. . .”

 

     “So I need to talk to them.”

 

     “I thought you’d want to.”

 

     No, Dixie, this time I don’t want to.  This time I wish to God I didn’t have to.

 

     But Johnny knew the job was his.  Captain Stanley and the rest of the A-shift had left a few minutes ago to return to the station.  Cap had called a replacement in for not only Roy, but for Johnny as well.  Hank didn’t have to say anything for Johnny to know the man realized he was no shape to return to work.

Maybe Cap had seen the way Johnny’s hands were trembling, or maybe he’d seen the vacant look around Johnny’s eyes.  Whatever it was, Johnny appreciated the man’s thoughtfulness.  He doubted he’d ever work for a better guy than Hank Stanley.

 

     Johnny swallowed more smoke and nodded.  “They’re in Brackett’s office you said?”

 

     “Yes.  I carried a couple extra chairs in there, and had an aid bring down a few toys from Pediatrics for John.”

 

     Johnny smiled.  That was so like Dixie.  Rather than think of an active three old as an intrusion, she went the extra mile in order to make the vigil more comfortable for the little boy and his family. 

    

     “Thanks, Dix.  For everything.”

 

     “Hey, only the best for my two favorite paramedics, you know that.”

 

     That remark usually got a grin out of Johnny, but tonight it didn’t even earn the nurse the slightest of smiles.  It did; however, earn her a subdued kiss on the cheek as Johnny passed her on his way out the door.  For some reason on this night, Dixie would have rather been the recipient of the famous Gage grin.

 

___________________________________________

 

     Johnny had barely stepped in Brackett’s office before a bundle of energy launched himself across the floor.

 

     “Unca Johnny!  Unca Johnny!”

 

     The paramedic scooped Roy’s youngest child up and forced himself to smile.

 

     “Hey, Little Pally.  How’s my guy?”

     “I good.  I wearin’ my firemen ‘jamas.  Da ones you give me.  You see?”

 

     Although John had tennis shoes and socks on, he was dressed in his favorite pajamas that were white and adorned with bright red fire trucks.  Johnny knew Joanne must have gotten John out of bed after Captain Stanley called her.  For that matter, at this hour, more than likely the whole family had been awakened by the phone call.  But at least Chris and Jenny were old enough to throw some clothes on and assist their mother with whatever needed to be done before they rushed from the house.

 

     “Yeah, I see you’re wearing your firemen pajamas,” Johnny responded to the boy in his arms.

 

     John wrinkled his nose as he placed a kiss on his uncle’s cheek. 

 

     “You ‘mell like ‘moke, Unca Johnny.  And you wearin’ you clown pants.  Was you at a fire?”

 

     To John bunker pants were clown pants.  Johnny supposed the child made that association because of the baggy fit and the suspenders the firemen wore to aid in holding them up.

 

     “Yeah, Little Pally, I was.” 

 

     “Was my daddy dare, too?”

 

     Johnny refused to meet anyone else’s eyes when he replied,  “Yes.  Yes, John, he was.”

 

     “Where my daddy now, Unca Johnny?”

     John DeSoto wasn’t quite certain why his uncle gave him a long squeeze then, or why the man placed a kiss on top of his auburn head.  His mommy must have known the reason though, because her voice sounded funny when she said,  “Let Uncle Johnny sit down now, John.  He’s tired.  You come back over here and play with the toys Nurse Dixie got for you.”

 

     Johnny placed his young namesake on his feet.  The boy did as his mother requested and scampered to the middle of the floor where three Golden Books, a wooden train set, a handful of Matchbox cars, and a Playschool work bench were scattered about.  He got down on his knees, his attention immediately taken by the small metal cars just the right size for a three year old’s hands.

 

     The family had formed the chairs Dixie brought for them into a circle. Johnny grabbed a fourth chair from in front of Doctor Brackett’s desk and joined the circle. He sat down and scrubbed a hand over his eyes.  They burned from fatigue, smoke, and unshed tears.

 

     Johnny didn’t realize how much his actions, and demeanor, were scaring Roy’s family.  Jennifer and Chris exchanged wide eyes looks while Joanne questioned, “Johnny?  Johnny. . .Roy?  Is he. . .”

    

     The paramedic dropped his hand.  His gaze took in Roy’s two oldest children and Joanne.

 

     “He’s alive, Jo.”

 

     Chris took his Mom’s hand as she whispered a heart felt, “Thank God.” 

    

     The woman took a moment to compose herself, then resumed her questioning of her husband’s partner.

 

     “How badly is he hurt?”

 

     “His left arm is broken, though Dix doesn’t think surgery will be necessary. He’s got three cracked ribs and some internal bruising.  Something must have fallen on him, but what I don’t know.”

 

     “You weren’t with him?”  Joanne asked, though the question held no accusation.

 

     “No.  I. . .there was a boy. . .an eleven year old boy who had been trapped in his room.  I was taking care of him outside.”

 

     Joanne put on a brave face for her children and did her best to sound up beat.

 

     “Well, if a broken arm, some bruising, and a few cracked ribs are the worst of Daddy’s injuries then we can be thankful.  He won’t be feeling the best for a while, but we’ll take care of him and pretty soon he’ll be as good as new.”

 

     “Remember when I broke my arm, Uncle Johnny?”  Jennifer asked. “You took me for ice cream after I got my cast on.”

 

     John looked up from where he was playing with the toys.  “I help take care of Daddy, Unca Johnny.  I big boy now!”

 

     “How long do you think Dad will be in the hospital, Uncle Johnny?”  Chris asked.  “Will he be home by the weekend?  I’m supposed to go to a basketball clinic on Saturday, but if Dad won’t be home I’ll tell my coach I have to stick around so I can help Mom.”

 

     Without thinking about how his actions would be perceived by Roy’s family, Johnny leaned forward in his chair and buried his head in his hands.

 

     Oh, God.  Oh God oh god oh god.

 

     “Johnny?”

 

     The paramedic reluctantly brought his face out of his hands.

 

     “That’s not all is it?  There’s more?  Something else you’re not telling us.”

 

     Johnny hated the fear he heard in Joanne’s voice, and the fear he saw in the eyes of Chris and Jennifer.

 

     “I. . .Doctor Brackett and Doctor Early will be in to talk to you as soon as they can.”

    

     “Why?  What else is wrong?”

 

     “Roy. . .he was without oxygen for a while.”

 

     “How long is a while?”

 

     “I don’t know, Jo.  I. . .I don’t know.  But. . .”

 

     “But what?”

 

     “He arrested twice.  Once at the scene, and once in the ambulance on the way here.”

 

     “Arrested?”  Jennifer looked at her mother. “What’s that mean?”

 

     When Joanne didn’t answer Johnny found his voice.  He leaned sideways and took the girl’s hand in his.

 

     “It means his heart stopped and he quit breathing, Jenny Bean.”

 

     “And?”

 

     “And, depending on how long he was without oxygen it means . .it means his brain might have been damaged.”

 

     “Damaged how?”

     “Jen, I can’t say for certain.”

 

     “Yes, you can.  You’re a paramedic.  You know the answers to my questions.”

 

     “Jennifer,” Joanne scolded with just that one word.

 

     The girl was immediately contrite.  She’d been the same age as John was now when Uncle Johnny started working with her father.  She didn’t remember a time when he wasn’t part of their lives.  He was one of her favorite people, and someone she’d never intentionally hurt.

 

     “I’m sorry.  I just. . .please, Uncle Johnny, I just need to know.  I’m not a little kid anymore.”

 

     “No, sweetie, you’re not.  As a matter of fact you and Chris are growing up a lot faster than I want either of you to.”  Johnny waited for a nod from Joanne before continuing.  “The term ‘brain damage’ encompasses a lot of possibilities.  Sometimes it’s as simple as someone having occasional memory problems.  Like forgetting a friend’s phone number or where they laid a book.”

 

     “Grandma DeSoto does stuff like that all the time.” 

 

     “Yes,” Johnny nodded.  “Some memory loss is a natural part of the aging process.  It’ll happen to all of us.  But sometimes, when the brain suffers an injury or is deprived of oxygen, memory loss can happen a lot sooner than it normally would.”

 

     “That wouldn’t be a big deal,” Chris said.  “If Dad forgets some things I mean.  Me and Jen are always helping Grandma find her glasses.”

 

     “No,” Johnny smiled slight at the boy’s words,  “it probably won’t be a big deal if your dad forgets some minor things like that every so often.  But. . .but sometimes brain damage can be a lot more severe than that.  Sometimes the person will have large portions of their memory missing that they’ll never get back.  Similar to amnesia.  Sometimes the ability to do certain things. . .like tie your shoes or brush your teeth will be gone.  Sometimes the ability to speak clearly will be effected.  Sometimes. . .well sometimes it’s even worse than that.”

 

     “How much worse?”  Chris asked in a voice that sounded just like Roy’s.

 

     “Chris, maybe it would be best if we wait until the doctors talk to us.”

 

     “No.  I wanna know how much worse.  Me, and Jen, and Mom. . .we need to be prepared.”

 

     “Go ahead, Johnny,” Joanne said softly.  “You can tell them.  They’re both old enough now to understand.”

 

     Johnny found himself wishing Chris and Jennifer weren’t both old enough to understand.  He found himself wishing they were little like John.  Little, and innocent, and engrossed in play, and too young to be forced to bear the worries of the adult world.   But that was no longer the case.  They were teenagers and deserved to be told the truth.

 

     “Your dad. . .your dad might end up an invalid.”

 

     “What’s that mean?”  Jennifer asked, though she had a feeling she knew.

 

     “It means. . .it means his ability to function on a adult level will be greatly impaired.  It means he might need the kind of help John needs to do things we all take for granted as we get older such as dressing ourselves, tying our shoes, feeding ourselves, walking--”

 

     “Walking?  He won’t even be able to walk?”

     “Jen, I don’t know.  I’m just telling you what could happen.  Your dad might not suffer from any of those things.  He might even be home in time for Chris to go away to his basketball clinic this weekend.”

 

     “But you don’t think so,” Chris surmised.  “You think the doctors are gonna give us bad news.”

 

     “I. . .Chris, all I’m saying is that there’s a lot of possibilities here.  There’s no use jumping to conclusions at this point.”

 

     “Uncle Johnny’s right, kids,” Joanne said with every ounce of bravery she could muster. “Jumping to conclusions will get us nothing but a lot of needless worry.  We’ll just have to wait now until the doctors come talk to us.”

 

     Johnny gave Jennifer’s hand a final squeeze then leaned back in his chair.  He closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to block out the upset faces surrounding him.

 

     I wish it was me. It should have been me.  Roy’s got a wife and children.  It’ll be my fault if they have to go on without him.  Or if Joanne has to go forward with, for all intents and purposes, a fourth child.  If that happens how will they ever make ends meet?  His care will be so costly.  Disability pay will never be enough to cover their bills and raise three kids.

 

     Johnny startled when he felt someone climb into his lap. 

 

     “I wike ‘dis book, Unca Johnny.  You weed to me?”

 

     “John, no,” Joanne said as she rose to retrieve her youngest son.  “I already told you Uncle Johnny is tired.  He had a long day at work.  Now I want you to go back over there and--”

 

     “He’s okay, Joanne,” Johnny reached down and stroked a hand through John’s soft hair that smelled of baby shampoo.  “He can stay here.”

 

     “Are you sure?”

 

     “I’m sure.”  Johnny opened the Golden Book that detailed life on a farm.  “How about if we look at the pictures, John?  You tell me what these animals are and what sounds they make.”

 

     “I can do dat.  I can do dat real good.”

 

     “Then prove it to me.”

 

     Listening to John rattle off the names of animals while imitating their sounds was just the type of mindless activity Johnny needed while he waited word from Roy’s doctors.

 

     Johnny wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Doctor Brackett and Doctor Early finally stepped into the room.  He knew John had grown bored with the farm book and exchanged it for one about a little boy taking his first trip to the barber shop. He was aware of Chris getting up from his chair and pacing the room in a way that made him seem far older than his sixteen years. He also knew Jennifer and Joanne were talking quietly, but the paramedic’s mind was full of too many worries to really focus on these activities.           

 

     Johnny had long thought Joe Early missed his calling as a doting grandfather.  The doctor immediately stooped in front of Roy’s youngest child who still sat on Johnny’s lap.

    

     “Well, who’s the handsome young man who came to visit us tonight?”

 

     “Hi, Docor Early.  Is me.  John.  John DeSoto.”

 

     “Hello, John DeSoto.  You get bigger each time I see you.”

 

     “I know.  I be big as Unca Johnny soon.”

 

     “Yes, I bet you will be.  And I also bet I know what a big boy like you could use right about now.”

 

     John’s eyes lit up.  “A canny bar?”

 

     Doctor Early laughed.  “Now how did you know that was exactly what I was going to say?”

 

     “ ‘Cause I berry smart.”

 

     Again, Joe laughed as he fished in his back pants pocket for his wallet.

 

     “John, you’ve got a lot of your Uncle Johnny in you.”

 

     Joanne smiled her agreement. 

 

     “Yes, Doctor Early, as odd as it seems he does.  From his energy, to his charm, to his quirky sense of humor.”

 

     John titled his head and looked up into Johnny’s face.

 

     “Dey talkin’ ‘bout us, Unca Johnny?”

 

     Johnny gave the boy a soft smile.

    

     “Yeah, Little Pally, I think they are.”

 

     “Dat’s otay, ‘cause we’re bestest bubbies, wight?  An bestest bubbies stick ‘gether.”

 

     Once again, Johnny ran a gentle hand through his namesake’s soft, straight hair.

 

     “Yeah, John, we’re best buddies.”

 

     Doctor Early stood and turned to Jenny.  He handed the girl a ten dollar bill.

 

     “Jenny, why don’t you take John down to the cafeteria.  I’m sure you’re both hungry.  Your midnight snack is on me.”

 

     Jennifer wanted to tell Doctor Early she wasn’t a little girl any longer and shouldn’t be dismissed from the room, but she’d been taught to respect adults.  She turned pleading eyes to her mother.

 

     Joanne gave her daughter an understanding smile, but nonetheless reiterated Joe Early’s request.

 

     “Please take your brother to the cafeteria, honey.  The doctors need to talk to me and Uncle Johnny without an active little boy in the room.”

 

     “But--”

 

     “I’ll tell you everything when you get back.”

 

     “Everything?  Promise?”

 

     “Yes, I promise.  Everything.”

 

     Jennifer gave a quiet, “Thank you,” to Doctor Early as she accepted the money he handed her.  She held a hand out to her baby brother.

 

     “Come on, John.  Let’s go.”

 

     “Unca Johnny comin’, too?”

     Johnny lifted John from his lap and set the youngster on his feet.

 

     “No, Little Pally, not this time.  You go with your sister.  I’ll see you later.”