SquidgeWorld Archive

Anniversary
by Amedia
amedia_s@hotmail.com

The locker room was quiet; only Johnny and Roy were still getting ready for the day. Johnny had managed to occupy Roy with checking the squad for a few minutes while the others went on in for breakfast, so that they could be alone together.

The night before, Johnny had coaxed Chet to distract Roy for a few minutes while Johnny snuck a card and present into Roy's locker, and he was reasonably sure that Roy didn't suspect. Johnny opened the door to his locker to hide his expression, and waited for Roy's reaction.

A minute passed, then two. Roy didn't say anything. Unable to wait any longer, Johnny closed his locker door so he could see his partner.

Roy stood lost in thought, holding the card and the small wrapped package. "Hey," said Johnny. "Aren'tcha going to open it?"

"Yeah, I will. Thanks, Johnny," Roy said. He didn't sound as enthusiastic as Johnny thought he would. He opened the card first. For once it wasn't funny, just a simple "Happy Anniversary." Roy looked up with a shadow of a smile. "What, no jokes?"

"Hey, it's your tenth. That's special."

Roy looked down suddenly and John thought for a moment that his partner was either very angry or very sad. The moment passed, however, and Roy looked back at John with a smile. "Thanks." He tore the paper off the gaily-wrapped package and pulled out the present.

Roy didn't react. He just stared at it.

Johnny looked at it too, wondering if it had metamorphosed into a multi-legged insect or something. But no, it was exactly as it was when he wrapped it. He had taken a photo of Roy and Joanne at a firehouse picnic, and the picture had come out unusually well. Instead of giving it to them at the time, he had had it reprinted as a 5x7 and framed nicely.

"Johnny, that's ... that's really nice. It's very thoughtful. Joanne will really like it, too." Roy put the picture back in his locker and closed the door hastily.

"Roy, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean, what's wrong?" Roy's voice was calm, but he flushed red.

"C'mon, Roy, if you want to lie to me you're gonna have to change your complexion. Something wrong between you and Joanne?"

Roy cursed Johnny's intuition. "No, nothing's wrong between Joanne and me." He looked up, down, anywhere but at Johnny.

Johnny moved closer and put a hand on Roy's shoulder, gently turning Roy to face him. Roy fought down his reaction to Johnny's touch and stared him defiantly in the eyes.

"Talk to me, Roy. Come on. It's okay, whatever it is."

"No," said Roy, jerking away from Johnny's hand. "It is NOT okay."

"Then there *is* something wrong." Johnny's voice might have held a note of triumph, but it didn't.

Roy realized that Johnny was genuinely worried. "Yes, damn it, there is." Roy took a deep breath. How much could he confide in Johnny? "Look," he began slowly, "Joanne and I are very happy together. In a lot of ways we have a perfect relationship. But we've never been in love."

Something flickered in Johnny's eyes, but it vanished and Johnny's face was carefully neutral, as was his voice when he spoke. "You don't love each other?"

"No," said Roy, "I don't mean that." Had Johnny looked briefly disappointed? Roy couldn't tell for sure. He plunged awkwardly into an explanation. How much more could he safely say? "We've known each other forever, and we've gone through a lot together. We love each other a lot. But we're not in love. We never have been."

"I don't understand," said Johnny.

Roy paused. "We got married ... to protect ourselves. People were starting to ask questions, and this solved both of our problems."

"What kinds of questions?" asked Johnny.

"Oh, you know. 'Why aren't you married yet?' They used to bug Joanne about this girl she was living with. 'Don't you like boys?' they'd say."

"Did they ask you those questions?"

Roy wanted to deny it, but he could already feel the slow flush creeping up his cheeks. "Yeah, they did," he said, not looking at Johnny. He went on hastily. "When we got married, though, the questions went away. And Joanne kept seeing Linda, and I, well, I ..."

"You were free to go out," said Johnny quickly, as if he were trying to save Roy from embarrassment.

Roy nodded. "Joanne's still seeing Linda. They're very happy. Linda comes over a lot when I'm at the firehouse; she's like an aunt to the kids." He looked at Johnny. "Today was our tenth anniversary, yeah. But it was their twelfth. They're so happy together. So in love. And I'm alone."

Johnny's next question was tentative, hesitant. "Roy? Are you telling me that you're gay?"

Roy was silent for a long time. Finally he said, "Yeah. Yes, I am."

"I don't believe this," muttered John. He turned away from Roy and began angrily throwing his things into his locker. "For five years I've been working next to you, riding next to you, sleeping next to you, and all this time you've been ..." His voice faded off in disgust.

"Go ahead, say it," Roy burst out angrily. "What's your epithet of choice? What have I been? A pervert, a homo, a faggot?"

John turned to him then. His voice was curiously flat. "All this time you've been available."

Taken aback, Roy didn't know how to respond.

Just then Cap opened the door from the kitchen, startling them both. "You guys want breakfast or not?" he demanded. "You'd better eat something before we get called out."

"We'll be right there, Cap," said Johnny.

"Just another minute, Cap," said Roy.

"Suit yourselves," said Cap, and went back into the kitchen.

Johnny waited until the door had closed behind Cap, then spoke. "Look, Roy, why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I didn't figure it was any of your business." Roy bit his words off angrily. Johnny's outburst had startled him.

"But, Roy ..." Johnny's voice trailed off. For a moment, when Roy had first made his announcement, he had been overwhelmed with joy and hope. Then a quick flash of anger had coursed through him, anger for the years of silence and deception. It had passed quickly, but now he feared that his outburst had effectively ended the conversation.

"What?" Roy asked. He turned away, not looking at Johnny. "I bet you want to know whether I'm attracted to you.'"

"Well, no, not exactly," Johnny began.

Roy wasn't listening. "The answer is no, okay! Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm attracted to every guy I work with. It's the first thing straight guys always ask."

Since he wasn't looking at Johnny, he didn't see his partner's face fall. But he did hear Johnny's answer, soft though it was. "I'm not straight, Roy."

That got Roy's attention and he finally glanced at his partner. "Johnny," he said, exasperated, "don't mess with my mind, OK? I know you like girls."

Johnny cocked his head, giving Roy that crooked irresistible grin. "Roy," he said, "I like *people*."

"Well, then, Johnny," Roy said. His voice didn't contain its former anger, but it wasn't friendly, either. "Why didn't *you* tell me this sooner?" he asked, throwing Johnny's earlier words back at him.

"Roy, you're married!" Johnny cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Yeah," said Roy, slamming his locker door shut. "Don't remind me."

Whatever they might have said next was cut off by the alarm tones. "Station 51, structure fire."

They drove to the fire in silence, too professional to continue their earlier conversation and too distracted by it to discuss anything else. Reaching the scene, they found an abandoned hotel blazing, its lower floors fully involved.

Cap came over to the squad. "The building should be empty," he said, "but you never know when squatters might have taken up residence. You boys go check the upper floors and make sure there's no one there. Get out as quickly as you can--I can't guarantee we can keep the fire from moving up there."

"We're on it, Cap," said Johnny, and Roy nodded agreement. They quickly pulled on their gear and trotted into the building. Cap directed Chet and Marco to hose them a path through the smoldering lobby and up the first flight of stairs.

As they neared the top floor, the smoke thinned out, but they could see that it was rapidly rising from below. "We'd better hurry," said Roy. Johnny nodded. The staircase opened onto a corridor that extended in two directions. "I'll take this side, you take that," Roy said, pointing.

"Okay," said Johnny. "Holler if you need help."

Roy nodded and they set off, each going to the farthest end and working his way back. Room after room was empty. A few showed signs of recent habitation: plates scattered on a table, a coat thrown over a chair, needles and other drug paraphernalia. But there were no people.

They met up again by the stairs. "No one here," said Roy, marking an X on the last door. "Time to go."

As they turned to go back, the ceiling creaked ominously and a beam fell right in their path. They moved carefully around it. Roy turned to look back at Johnny, and time seemed to stand still. Another beam had broken through the ceiling; Roy had a moment's clarity when it seemed the beam was suspended in midair above Johnny's head. Roy lunged, pushing Johnny out of its path.

"Roy!" shouted Johnny, watching the beam come down on his partner. Roy dropped like a felled tree. Johnny got him under the arms and pulled him out from underneath. He hoped he wasn't hurting him further by moving him so roughly, but time was of the essence. "Roy, are you okay? Can you walk?"

Roy was breathing hard. There was a gash across his forehead, and one of his legs was twisted under him. "I don't think so," he admitted.

"It's all right, you're going to be fine," said Johnny, struggling to reassure not only his partner but himself. He was about to hoist Roy up in a fireman's carry when he heard the ceiling creaking again. He threw himself across Roy's body just in time. Chunks of the ceiling rained down around them, some of them landing on Johnny's back.

Johnny waited until the crashing sounds had stopped, then cautiously lifted his head. Things seemed stable for the moment. Shaking the debris from his back, he sat up and looked at Roy. "C'mon, pally," he said calmly, "Gotta get you out of here." Roy tried to push himself up, but fell back. "Easy now," said Johnny. "Just let me get you."

He staggered out of the building, Roy's weight carefully balanced across his shoulders. The cool morning air seemed arctic after the heat inside. The other firefighters were still training their hoses on the flames. Seeing Johnny, Cap directed Chet to go help, and moved another firefighter to help Marco with the hose.

Johnny carried his burden to the squad, where Chet was already getting the equipment out. Cap came over, talking into the H.T. "... Code I. Respond an ambulance to this location." He waited for the acknowledgement, then thumbed the handi-talkie off.

"Cap, would you call Rampart for me?" Johnny asked.

"Sure, pal," said Cap, motioning Chet to pass him the biophone. "Rampart, this is County 51, how do you read?"

Brackett's voice responded. "We read you loud and clear. Go ahead, 51."

"We have an injured firefighter here. Stand by for vitals." Cap relayed the vitals from Johnny and the instructions from Rampart. Johnny worked quickly and efficiently, maintaining his professional composure. Only Chet was close enough to see the worry and fear in John's eyes.

******

Roy drifted awake, vaguely surprised to find himself somewhere other than a smoked-filled hallway. He struggled briefly to orient himself, and gave up; his mind was too hazy. He clung to two comforting facts: he was out of the fire, and Johnny was with him. He could hear Johnny's voice; he couldn't make out the words, but from the tone he guessed Johnny was talking to Rampart. As Roy opened his eyes partway, he could see Johnny was putting down the biophone and turning back to him.

"Hey, Junior," Roy managed to croak. He could hear a siren in the background, and felt a smooth rolling motion. Were they in an ambulance?

"Hey, Roy," said Johnny, tremendous relief in his voice.

Roy tried to raise his head and look around. "Where ...?"

Firm hands pressed his shoulders back down. "We're on our way to Rampart," Johnny said. "Shhh. You're going to be fine." Despite Johnny's reassuring words, Roy sensed real worry in his tone.

There was something he had to tell Johnny, Roy realized. He couldn't quite remember what it was. Something had gone awfully wrong between them. "Johnny--"

"Shhhh," Johnny repeated.

"Johnny," Roy persisted. "I'm sorry." There. He'd said it. He couldn't quite remember why, but it felt as if a weight had been lifted.

"It's OK, Roy," said Johnny's voice, unusually subdued. "I'm sorry too." Johnny leaned closer, and Roy felt warm lips briefly pressed against his forehead.

Roy smiled and closed his eyes. It was going to be all right.

******

Johnny accompanied Roy and the ambulance attendants to a treatment room and helped move Roy onto the examination table. Dixie then promptly shooed him out to the lounge. Thankfully it was unoccupied. Johnny poured himself a cup of coffee and sat staring at it.

He had been so angry with Roy. So many times he or Roy had been close to death's door--what if one of them had died without ever knowing how the other one truly felt? But he had to admit that he too was guilty of the same reticence. And he had found that he could not hold onto his anger in the ambulance, when his partner struggled against unconsciousness to apologize. Johnny only hoped that he would have an opportunity to apologize in turn.

The door opened, and Johnny looked up to see Chet enter. "Have you heard anything?" the stocky Irishman asked.

Johnny shook his head.

"He'll pull through. He's a strong guy," said Chet firmly. Then, with a half-smile, he added, "You know, that's what I'm usually telling Roy about you."

Dixie came in. Johnny started; his coffee splashed out of the mug. "Dix? Is there any news?"

Dixie smiled at him. "He's going to be all right, Johnny. He was pretty lucky. He has a mild concussion, a couple of cracked ribs, and a sprained knee. We've moved him upstairs to room 234. Why don't you go see him." It was not a question. Almost before she had finished, Johnny was past her and down the corridor.

Dixie turned to Chet. "Suppose you tell me what's going on," she said, handing him a mug and pointing firmly to the coffee.

Chet, recognizing the inevitable, poured himself a cup and sat down. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb. Roy should be unconscious, but he keeps asking for Johnny. And Johnny was white as a sheet when I came in here. They usually worry about each other, but they're not usually this jumpy."

Chet nodded. "I don't like to tell tales out of school ..."

"Tell," Dixie ordered.

"Well, Johnny and Roy never did come in for breakfast this morning. They stayed out in the locker room talking. I think they were having an argument, a pretty bad one." He took a sip of his coffee. " I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could hear the tone of their voices, and it wasn't good. I was sitting closer to the door than the other guys--I don't think any of them noticed. John and Roy did real good at acting normal when we went out to the fire, but I don't think they had settled whatever they were fighting about." He thought for a minute. "I think Johnny was really afraid Roy would die before he got a chance to apologize."

Dixie quirked a smile at him. "You think it's Johnny who needs to apologize?"

Chet grinned back. "Isn't it always?"

"I don't know," Dixie said, turning serious again. "My guess is that, whatever they were fighting about, it's not as important to either of them as their friendship. And if it took a beam falling on Roy to get them to realize it, maybe it was a lucky accident." Chet nodded. Dixie went on. "Why don't you take the squad back to the station, and ask Captain Stanley to put both John and Roy out of service. I think Johnny's needed here."

"Sure thing," said Chet. "I'll call the station before I leave."

******

Roy was somewhere between wakefulness and sleep when Johnny came into his room. Johnny pulled a chair over to the bed, sat down, and said, "Hey, Roy."

Roy half-opened his eyes. "Hey, Junior." He reached a tentative hand out and Johnny took it. Roy smiled and closed his eyes. A few minutes later he startled awake. "Johnny?" he asked, his voice panicky.

"Right here, pal. It's okay," said Johnny, squeezing Roy's hand. The pattern repeated three or four times, and then Roy finally fell into a sound sleep.

Johnny had dozed off when the sound of footsteps awoke him. He looked up to see Chet standing at the foot of Roy's bed. "Hey, Gage, you okay?"

"Sure, Chet," Johnny said. "Just a little tired from all the excitement."

"Aren't we all," said Chet wryly. "Good thing the rest of the afternoon was real quiet."

"Did you drive the squad back to the station?" Johnny hadn't been thinking about the logistics of his prolonged visit.

Chet grinned. "Yeah. A couple of hours ago. I'm on my way home now. Just stopped in to see if you needed a ride."

"No, thanks," said Johnny. "I mean, thanks a lot. But I'm gonna stay with Roy a while longer."

"How is he doing?"

Johnny smiled. "Sleeping. Dixie says it's the best thing for him." He stretched, finding himself stiff and sore after napping sitting up. "Man, it's warm in here!" He looked down at himself. "Forgot I had my turnout coat on," he admitted sheepishly, and began to shrug it off.

Chet drew his breath in sharply at the exact moment that Johnny suddenly yelped.

"What happened to you, Gage? There's blood all over the back of your shirt!"

"I don't remember .... Wait, yes I do. The ceiling started to fall in on us, after Roy went down. I must've gotten hit with some pieces. I didn't even notice."

Chet picked up the phone next to the bed and dialed the Emergency Department.

"Emergency, Miss McCall."

"Dixie, it's Chet. I'm in Roy's room. Johnny was hurt during the fire, but he was so worried about Roy he didn't notice until now. Should I send him down to you?"

"No, stay there. I'm coming up with a gurney."

Chet hung up and turned to Johnny. "She's coming up for you in a minute," he said. "Do you want me to stay with Roy for a while?"

"Yeah," said Johnny. "Please. It's really nice of you to offer."

There was a brisk knock on the partly-open door, and Dixie appeared. Taking one look at Johnny's back, she urged him onto the gurney and whisked him out the door.

******

"How does it look, Doc?" Johnny asked anxiously as Dr. Early examined his back.

"Well, you had a couple of cuts that bled all over your shirt, Johnny, but no significant blood loss. You'll be bothered more, I think, by these bruises--they're pretty deep." He finished taping gauze over the last of the cuts. "You can try sitting up now."

With a little help from Dr. Early, Johnny managed to push himself up to a sitting position. "Thanks, Doc," he said, wincing. The cuts, superficial as they were, smarted painfully, and the bruises were beginning to ache.

"Does it hurt?" asked Dr. Early. Johnny nodded. "We can give you something for it, of course. I'd like to keep you here overnight for observation."

"Can I be in Roy's room?" Johnny asked.

*Like a kid asking for a sleepover,* Joe Early thought, amused by Johnny's eagerness. "I'll ask Dixie to arrange it," he said with a chuckle.

******

Chet turned as Dixie brought a groggy Johnny back into the room. "How are you, Gage?" Chet asked.

"He'll live," said Dixie with a smile, wheeling Johnny over to his bed. He climbed tiredly into it and started to roll onto his back. "You don't want to sleep like that," warned Dixie, just as Johnny hissed and rolled onto his side. "That's better," she said.

"Thanks, Dixie," he said sleepily. "'Night, Chet."

Roy stirred awake at the sound. He felt cramped and uncomfortable. Trying to stretch out the muscles over his sore rib cage, he put one arm, then the other, over his head. The right arm hurt too much, but having the left one up felt better. Roy went back to sleep.

"I don't believe it," Chet whispered to Dixie as he prepared to leave. "Looks like they switched personalities."

From their many previous hospital visits, Dixie had seen Roy and Johnny asleep enough times to know what Chet meant, and she joined him in a subdued chuckle. She took Roy's pulse, checked his head bandage, and made a note on his chart.

******

Johnny was discharged from the hospital in the morning, with strict orders to stay off duty for at least two days, and to have his back checked before he resumed working.

He made a point of coming back in the afternoon, and was pleased to find Roy awake.

"You look a lot better, man," Johnny said, resuming his seat next to Roy's bed.

"I *feel* a lot better," said Roy. He was sitting up, with pillows propped behind his head. A tray full of empty dishes next to the bed testified to a good appetite. "Amazing what a good night's sleep will do for you. And a good partner." He looked up, his eyes meeting Johnny's. "Look, Johnny, I'm really sorry about the things I said--"

"You're the last one who should apologize, man!" Johnny cut Roy off. "You told me something really, really personal that must have been hard to say--I mean, you bared your soul to me. And what'd I do? I *yelled* at you. I can't believe I was that dumb."

"Well, yeah. But Johnny, even though you got angry, you never lied to me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Roy looked down, embarrassed. Johnny waited patiently. After a minute, Roy said softly, "I told you I wasn't attracted to you."

Johnny grinned, leaned forward and patted Roy's cheek. "And you thought I believed you?" he asked, laughing. "C'mon, pally, *no one* is immune to the ol' Gage charm." He sobered. "Roy, I know you were protecting yourself. It's okay."

"Thanks," Roy said. There didn't seem to be anything else to say.

Johnny, as usual, had plenty to say. He got up and paced the room. "You know why I was mad, don't you? I kept thinking about all those wasted years. You know, years when we could've been--" he stopped suddenly and turned red. "Well, you know what I mean," he went on. "But then I realized they weren't wasted at all."

"Why not?" Roy asked.

Johnny sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Because I spent them with you."

Roy smiled at him. "You know, Johnny, every time something happened to you--you know, rattlesnake bite, explosions, whatever--over the last few years, I kept thinking I should tell you. But then you'd get better, and I'd be relieved I hadn't--until the next time. I wondered every time whether I could bear it, going on without you and knowing that you never knew ..." Johnny was looking at him with a quizzical grin. Roy forced himself to go on. "Never knew how I felt about you."

"Oh yeah? And how was that?"

Roy didn't say anything. He leaned closer, cupping Johnny's face in both of his hands, and kissed him tenderly on the lips. "How do you think?" he asked after a long moment.

"I think ..." Johnny struggled to bring his mind back into focus. "I think we have a lot of catching up to do."

"You know what, partner?" asked Roy. "I think you're right."

THE END