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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-05
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A Teenage Prank Gone Wrong

Summary:

I am not sure where it originated, but this is a response to the 'He looked at the clock and sighed..' challenge as seen on the Two Chickies website Drama page. You all know I LOVE a good challenge

Work Text:

He looked at the clock and sighed. Lifting his bandaged hand to his face he carefully rubbed his eyes with the two fingers and thumb not swathed in gauze. He wanted to scrub the palms of both hands over his eyes to try to wipe away the weariness; the memory of the past few hours, but his left arm was strapped across his chest holding it in place to protect his broken collar bone. Brackett had wanted to admit him overnight, but somehow he’d managed to convince the good ole doc that he was fine except for the cracked bone, the cut across the palm of his hand and fingers, and a little tickle in his throat from the smoke. Truthfully, he felt like he’d been run over by a Mack truck, but that didn’t matter now. Right now the only thing that mattered was his partner.

He looked at the clock and couldn’t help the sigh that echoed again. How long? He wondered. He tried to remember what time they’d gotten the call out, but everything was hazy now, two…maybe three hours ago. He slowly got to his feet and carefully made his way over to the window. The setting sun cast a glow across the Rampart parking lot bouncing off the cars below casting prisms against the side of the building; momentarily mesmerizing him. As he stared at the flashes of light his mind slipped back to the last call.

A senseless hoax played on the two paramedics, a teenage prank gone wrong.

They arrived on the scene and quickly gathered their equipment. They knew the building was abandoned. That was part of the instructions from dispatch, but the anonymous caller said to come up to the second floor for a man down. Taking two steps at a time and calling out, hoping for a response from the victim, the two men hurried to reach the second floor. When they did they found the door locked. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Johnny said as he stacked the gear against the wall beside the door. He then tried the handle again to no avail. Next he tried pushing against it with a few shoulder butts. No luck.

Roy banged his fist against the door. “Fire department, can you open the door?” He hesitated; cocking his head trying to see if he could hear a response; nodding to his partner when he didn’t hear one.

“I’ll get some tools.” Johnny said as he turned and started down the stairs.

It didn’t take the two men long to pry the door open. Once they got it open they grabbed their gear and continued to call out to the victim as they moved down the long narrow hallway peeking in each room as they passed. About half way in they heard a loud crack. The next thing they knew the floor beneath their feet crumbled away sending them down to the level below. The strangest part was the laughter that rang in their ears as they fell. There were mattresses piled up to catch them. The plan didn’t quite work, at least not for one of them. Johnny hit the mattresses and bounced once, twice before slamming against the wall and hitting the hardwood floor with a thud; his shoulder hitting the bio-phone. Roy missed the target and crashed through the weakened floor; falling another story before landing hard on the ground floor with timbers and plaster covering his unconscious form.

Dazed and hurting Johnny scrambled to his knees trying to get up. Dizziness overwhelmed him for a moment and he flinched when he tried to use his hand to push himself up. Looking at his palm he saw blood. The ringing in his ears subsided, and he heard the distinct sound of running feet. “Roy?” He turned expecting to see Roy somewhere nearby hopefully safely on the mattresses, but what he saw was a gaping, jagged hole. “Roy!” he called louder; forgetting his own injuries he quickly got to his feet and bent over the hole to access the situation. “Roy, can you hear me?” He called as he turned to try to gather their equipment. Roy had the handy talkie, so he snapped open the bio-phone streaking it with blood as he connected the antennae. “Rampart this is Squad 51, how do you read me?” He waited a few seconds and asked again. “Come on, come on.” He looked over at the hole willing someone to answer him.

“51, we read you loud and clear.”

“Rampart we have a paramedic down injuries unknown at this time. I need back up, but have no other avenue of communication. I need you to notify dispatch for back up.”

“10-4, 51, we’ll be standing by.”

Johnny didn’t respond. He twisted the antennae off and slammed the lid shut, grabbed the handle and looked around for the drug box. “Damn,” He said softly. Roy was carrying the drug box. He grabbed the oxygen and headed for the nearest flight of stairs leaving a trail of blood dripping from his hand; adrenalin driving him and keeping him from remembering his own injuries.

He heard the doctor’s lounge door open. He closed his eyes not sure he would like the news he’d waited so long to hear. When he heard voices he didn’t recognize he opened his eyes and watched the sun as it disappeared on the horizon praying it wouldn’t be his best friend’s last sunset.

“Hey pal.” Captain Stanley gripped Johnny’s shoulder startling him from his thoughts.

“Cap? I uh…didn’t hear you come in.” Johnny turned around to see his crew mates looking back at him with questioning eyes.

“We just got here. You okay?” Stanley surveyed his junior paramedic; noticing the bandages and strained look on his face. “The police caught one of the kids.”

Johnny’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He closed it and nodded his understanding. He didn’t need to ask why they’d done it. There wasn’t a good enough reason for anyone to do what those kids had done. No reason to hurt people like that; to set up a trap and laugh about it. Roy could die. No reason could justify that. He turned back to the window not wanting his friends to see the moisture in his eyes or seeing the moisture in theirs.

“Have you heard anything?” Chet asked softly.

Johnny nodded. He couldn’t speak without revealing the pain he felt in his heart.

“Marco, why don’t you make a fresh pot of coffee?” Cap pointed as he spoke, but he kept a watch on his paramedic. “Mike, Chet, how about something to eat? It’s been a long day for all of us.”

“Sure thing.” Mike answered for both men. They all knew Cap was trying to get a minute to talk to Johnny.

“I saw Joanne in the hall talking to Dixie. She’ll probably be here in a few minutes.” Cap watched as Johnny looked at the clock and sighed softly. “We should hear something soon.”

Johnny shuffled to the couch, lowered himself and rested his elbow on his knee; his chin sunk to his chest. “Why Roy? He has a family; kids.” He whispered.

“Why anyone?” Cap asked. That was the question he wanted answered. “But the truth is we may never know. There were no witnesses. You and Roy didn’t see anyone. There was little evidence according to Lieutenant Crockett. If that kid doesn’t talk, we may never know.”

Marco came over with two full cups of strong black coffee. “Can you handle this Johnny?”

Without thinking, Johnny reached out with his bandaged hand. The weight of the cup hurt his stitched hand so he switched it to the other hand and rested it on his leg while he waited for it to cool enough to drink. Marco returned to the pot to pour himself a cup. Chet and Mike came back with sandwiches and chips for everyone. Cap took the coffee from Johnny and placed it on the small round table. “Come on, let’s eat.” He didn’t wait for an answer; instead he reached out and helped Johnny to his feet.

“I’m not really hungry, Cap.” Johnny protested.

“Well I know you haven’t eaten since we last ate and we’re starved, so I know you need to eat too.” Johnny eased himself into a chair and opened his mouth to argue, but Captain Stanley raised his hand stopping him. “No arguments, John. You need to eat. Don’t make me give you an order.”

Johnny lowered his gaze and awkwardly reached for a triangular sandwich half. He took a small bite and laid the sandwich back on the plate; chewing slowly. The others dug into their food with more vigor.

The clock ticked away as the men ate quietly. Johnny stared up at it trying again to remember how long he’d been waiting for news when the door opened again. He sighed as his eyes slipped from the clock and met Joanne’s worried look head on. He started to stand and go to her when she raised her hand to stop him. “Don’t get up.” She quickly moved to his side. “They let me see him.” She said softly as she gently hugged him and then pulled back and met his gaze. “He’s out of surgery.” Johnny probed deeply into her eyes for answers. He knew she would try to protect him with her words. “He’s going to be just fine.” She smiled as tears slid slowly down her cheeks. Johnny knew she spoke promises she didn’t know if she could keep. He looked back at the clock. It seemed like a lifetime since he’d run along beside the gurney as the ambulance attendants moved Roy into the treatment room, blood still oozing from his head wound. “Doctor Brackett said they would be moving him to a room in a little while, as soon as they set his leg. He said you could see him then if you want to.”

Johnny looked up at her and nodded his understanding.

“Are you okay?” Joanne knew he wasn’t, but she asked anyway. Dixie had already explained his injuries.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Joanne smiled and patted his cheek. “No you’re not. You should let someone take you home.” She brushed a stray hair from his forehead.

“No.” Johnny said abruptly regretting the harshness of his tone as soon as he said it. He looked up at Joanne with apologetic eyes. She smiled at him and hugged him again. She reached out and picked up the other half of his sandwich and handed it to him. He looked at her for a few seconds before reaching out with his bandaged hand to take the sandwich.

“I wish we had been there Joanne. I’m sorry.” Captain Stanley explained. “We were on another call.”

“Now Hank Stanley, don’t you go playing the guilt trip card. There is no way anyone could have known what was going to happen. And you and I both know there is no way you can go on every call with the Squad, so don’t even start apologizing for doing your job.”

Hank laughed. “Yes Ma’am.” He rose from his seat and started clearing away the trays. “Well boys, we have to get back to the station.”

“Aw Cap, can’t we stay available from here? I want to see how Roy’s doing.” Chet almost whined.

“Kelly, we’re on duty. As much as we ALL want to see Roy, we’ll have to wait until morning, unless of course, we happen to be back in the area later tonight. John, keep us posted Pal.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ll be right back, Johnny.” Joanne said as she followed the engine crew into the hall leaving Johnny slowly sipping his lukewarm coffee. Johnny knew they were talking about him, but he was too tired to care.

Mike came back in the room. “Cap wanted to know if you had the keys to the squad.”

“Uh…no, Roy had them.”

“Okay, I’ll check with Nurse McCall. Maybe she has them with his things. Chet left the extra set at the station. We’re gonna swing by and pick her up on the way back to the barn. Well, take it easy.” And with that he was gone leaving Johnny stewing over how much of his life was controlled by clocks, by time; he sighed again which turned into a yawn.

When Joanne came back to the lounge she found Johnny stretched out on the sofa with his arm across his eyes. He’d finally given in to the exhaustion that had been seeping into his bones since the fall.

When his eyes opened again, Johnny was laying on a soft surface with his head slightly elevated with pillows. He looked around the room and stopped when he saw Joanne sitting in the hard plastic chair beside Roy’s bed. They were chatting softly. He looked up at the clock and smiled. He didn’t even mind that Brackett had put him in a bed after all. He felt like he was a hundred years old anyway. He put his arm back over his eyes and dozed off again.

For once time had been on his side.

004/08/2014