Tender Loving Care

by Karen Hobbs

Author's note: By popular demand, here is the 'midquel' to Someone to Watch Over Me and Welcome Back. Hope you like it. - Kas.

Joanne DeSoto sat in her car outside John Gage’s apartment and drummed her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. She checked her watch for the third time in as many minutes.

“Come on, Johnny, you’re late,” she muttered.

She looked up at the windows of John’s apartment; the curtains were still closed.

“I bet he’s overslept," she thought as she got out of the car and slammed the door angrily. Normally she would have rung him an hour ago, to give him plenty of time to get showered and dressed. Recently, however, John had got into the annoying habit of leaving his answerphone on even when he was at home.

John was sitting on the sofa, his head in his hands.

“Oh John you’re not even ready," Joanne scolded him.

“I’m not going” John said quietly.

Joanne sighed. John was in another one of his ‘moods’. They had been getting more and more frequent over the last few weeks as John became increasingly frustrated with the limitations of his own body. Christopher had described Uncle Johnny as a 'bear with a sore head' and even Jennifer had said he was acting like 'Oscar the Grouch', a character from one of her favourite TV programmes.

"Johnny are you okay?" Joanne asked tentatively.

John looked up. There was a dull look in his eyes. He nodded.

"Are you sure?" Joanne pressed. He looked so tired, as if he hadn't been sleeping too well.

John glared at her "Of course I am dammit!" he said roughly.

Joanne was taken aback. She had never seen this side of him. "Alright have it your own way. I’ll drop by later. You are still coming for supper tonight?”

John shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe,” he replied.

"John, why are you doing this to yourself? It wasn't your fault, there was nothing you could do."

John cut in sharply, "How the hell would you know Joanne? Were you there? Did you see him lying there? Did you hold him while he died?"

"Stop doing this to yourself. You're not helping anyone" Joanne said, an annoyed edge to her voice, "You've got to snap out of it."

"Since when did you get your degree in psychology, Mrs DeSoto?!" John yelled, getting to his feet. A look of thunder on his face.

Joanne took a step backward. She had never seen Johnny look so angry. "John I..." She stammered.

"Get out!" John screamed "Get out and leave me alone!"

Joanne ran from the apartment tears streaming down her face. John slammed the door behind her. "Shit!" he swore throwing his cane across the room. He limped to the sofa, sat down and buried his head in his hands. 'How had it come to this?' he wondered.

Three months ago when he had come out of the coma after the terrible warehouse fire that had claimed the life of his friend Michael Stimson, he thought his life was in ruins. His injuries had been so bad at the time, that the doctors weren’t sure if he would be able to lead an independent life again. But he had shown them and finally he was well enough to go home.

Not directly home, of course, Roy and Joanne had insisted that he come and stay with them until he was more mobile. Two weeks ago he had decided he had imposed on their hospitality too much and had moved back to his own apartment. Joanne still came every day to take him to physiotherapy, shop for him, do his laundry. Mrs Meyers, his landlady, stopped by frequently to give him another home-made lunch or supper. He was beginning to feel that the women in his life were beginning to mother him, and if there was one thing Johnny hated it was being mothered.

He was tired of being a guest in his own life. He needed to get away.

###

"Roy, phone, it's Joanne" Captain Stanley said coming into the kitchen at Station 51. "You'd better take it in my office, she sounds a bit upset.”

Roy bolted for the door. The rest of the crew looked at Captain Stanley for an explanation. He just shrugged.

"Joanne?" Roy spoke into the receiver, a worried tone to his voice.

"Oh, Roy!" Joanne said, he could tell she was crying.

"Joanne, what's wrong, is it the kids?" Roy grew concerned. It was unlike his wife to phone the station without good reason.

"It's Johnny, he's gone," Joanne said.

"Gone? What do you mean gone?" Roy asked.

“I went to pick him up for supper and he wasn’t at his apartment,” Joanne said.

"He's probably gone out and forgotten the time, you know how he is,” Roy reasoned.

"No, some of his stuff is missing," Joanne said, "Roy, we had an argument this morning and.."

"An argument!" Roy exclaimed, "About what?"

"Nothing really," Joanne admitted, "I asked him how he was and he blew his stack, I really thought he was going to hit me. Roy, you've got to do something."

Roy slumped back in Captain Stanley's chair. He had known things had been getting a little tense the last few days, he had no idea they had gotten this bad.

"Roy?" Joanne was concerned at her husband's lack of response.

"I'm sure he couldn't have gone far. If he's not back by supper, let me know. I'll speak to him when I get home in the morning."

Roy went back into the kitchen, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Roy, you okay?" Captain Stanley asked.

"Yeah, it's Johnny, he's missing," Roy said, sitting down at the table.

"Missing?!" Chet exclaimed, "When, how?"

Roy sighed, "Apparently, he and Joanne had some sort of argument this morning, and when she checked back at his apartment this afternoon he was gone."

"Did he leave a note?" Mike asked.

"He's probably gone for a walk" Chet surmised.

"In this?! " Marco exclaimed, it was pouring down with rain outside.

"Look guys, I really don't think we need to worry about this," Captain Stanley's voice of reason cut in. "Gage is a big boy now, he is allowed out on his own."

Everyone nodded, but Captain Stanley could see that Roy was not happy with the situation at all. At that moment the station klaxon went off and the crew ran for the apparatus bay.

***

Supper came and went at the DeSoto house and still no sign of Johnny. Joanne had laid his place at table hoping that he might have decided to make his own way to the house.

"Isn't Uncle Johnny coming for supper?" Jennifer enquired.

"Uncle Johnny has gone away," Joanne said quietly.

"Oh good!" Chris exclaimed.

"Chris!" Joanne said sharply.

"Well, he's such a grouch these days," Chris started.

"Oscar the Grouch!" Jennifer chimed in. Joanne threw her a look.

"He's not well children," she started.

"So, why isn't he in the hospital then? That's where sick people should be. I wish they had never let him out," Chris replied.

"Christopher DeSoto, go to your room. I will not have you talking like that about Uncle Johnny!"

Chris got up from the table.

"Why? It's true" he said as he left the room, "And another thing, he's not my Uncle!"

###

Roy threw down the phone in disgust. "Nothing" he said closing the address book in front of him "I've tried everyone in there. No one's seen or heard from him."

"Have you tried his apartment?" Chet asked. Roy shot him a 'don't be so silly' look.

"How about his landlady? Perhaps he's there, but just won't pick up the phone," Mike suggested.

"It's worth a try," Roy said, dialling the number. “Mrs Meyers, it’s Roy DeSoto, John Gage’s partner. I’m sorry to trouble you, I was just wondering if you had seen Johnny recently?”

“Thank you, Mrs Meyers,” Roy said, replacing the receiver.

“What did she say?” Marco asked.

“Not a lot,” Roy admitted, “But she did see him drive off in his Land Rover yesterday morning.”

“So what does that prove Inspector Clueless?” Chet asked.

“Nothing much I guess,” Roy said.

“He might have taken off into the woods or something,” Marco said.

That idea did nothing to comfort Roy. The thought of John out in the woods alone, in his present physical and mental condition, filled him with dread.

“We could always ask Vince to put out a APB on him,” Chet suggested.

###

When Roy got home later that morning, Joanne was just taking delivery of a basket of flowers. She kissed him as he walked through the door. “Oh, Roy, you shouldn’t have,” she said.

“I didn’t,” Roy admitted.

Joanne frowned, “Then who did?” she asked.

“Is there a card?” Roy asked.

Joanne fished about in the centre of the arrangement and extracted a small envelope. She opened it and withdrew the message card. It read ‘Sorry’. “It’s from John,” she said, showing Roy the card “It’s an apology, he shouldn’t have.”

“Yes, he should have, but it’s too little, too late," Roy said forcefully.

###

“Roy, I didn’t expect to see you on your day off” Dixie McCall said as Roy approached the Nurse’s station at Rampart Hospital. Roy had rung her earlier with the news that John’s Land Rover was missing and the thought that he might have gone camping.

“I was just passing, wondered if you had come up with anything yet?” Roy said.

“No, I’ve checked with all the hospitals in range of his favourite campsites, no luck. What about you?”

Roy shook his head “No, I’ve checked with the Ranger’s Stations, they haven’t seen him, they’ve promised to call me if they do.” He sighed, “But he has apologised though, which I suppose is a good thing.”

Dixie gave him a puzzled look.

“He sent a basket of flowers to Joanne,” Roy explained.

“Yeah, I guess he’s feeling bad about what he did,” she said, “Please, Roy don’t be too hard on him. He’s still very upset about Michael. They were close. The psychological scars of this are going to take a very long time to heal.”

“It’s still no excuse, Dix,” Roy replied.

“I’m not asking you to excuse him. Just to understand him” Dixie said.

Roy looked at his watch, “I’d better be getting along, should you hear anything..”

“I’ll call,” Dixie assured him.

###

The days dragged by and still no word from John. The crew of Station 51 had exhausted all their leads. Chet was still enthusiastic about asking Vince Howard to put out an APB on Johnny and had asked Vince to drop by the Station to discuss it.

“Let's face it boys he might have flown south for a vacation," Vince said, as he finished his coffee.

“Nope, we’ve checked the airlines,” Mike said grimly.

Vince was impressed at the lengths to which these guys had gone to try and locate their friend. He sighed, wishing he could do more.

“I know it’s not much but I’ll keep an eye out for him,” he said, as he stood to leave.

“Thanks, Vince, we appreciate that,” Captain Stanley said, as he waved him off.

###

Dixie meanwhile was trying a new lead of her own. On her way home after work on Saturday, she called in at a little florist shop not far from Rampart.

“Hi Louise,” she greeted the young shopkeeper.

“Hi there Miss McCall, how are you?” Louise replied.

“Fine thanks. Listen you haven’t seen Johnny Gage this week have you?”

“Johnny, the paramedic?” Louise asked.

“Yes, tall, dark ..” Dixie started.

“And handsome...” Louise breathed. It was obvious that Johnny had been working his charm around here.

Dixie waited for the young women to recover from the memory.

“Yes, he was in Tuesday I think, yes in the morning. Pulled up in that Land Rover of his. Ordered a basket arrangement for Mrs DeSoto.”

"How did he seem to you?" Dixie asked.

"He looked tired and he was limping pretty badly" Louise recalled.

"Did he say where he was going?" Dixie asked.

Louise thought for a moment, "I don't think so.." she said, uncertainly.

"I'm sorry Louise, it is very important," Dixie pressed, "Johnny hasn't been seen since he left here."

Louise played the events of that Tuesday morning back in her mind.

"I remember saying that he looked like he needed a vacation and he laughed and said that was just what he was doing."

"Did he say where?" Dixie asked.

"Not exactly. He mentioned a friend's beach house, up the coast somewhere. I'm sorry I can't remember where."

Dixie's eyes lit up, "That's okay Louise, I think I know where" she said. She remembered going to a party earlier in the year with John and the rest of the gang. It was a long shot, but one that she was prepared to take.

###

Dixie pulled up outside the beach house. It looked deserted. 'Perhaps Johnny had decided to go someplace else' she thought, but then she spotted his Land Rover parked at the side of the house.

She got out, pulling her jacket around her against the chill wind. She glanced up at the grey clouds. It looked like rain.

Crossing to the house, she knocked on the door, No reply, she tried again "Johnny!" she called, "It's Dixie,” again no answer.

Dixie crossed to the window and looked in. In the gloom of the interior she could make out a jumble of empty beer bottles and discarded plates. Dixie sighed, she was sure John was there. She tried the door handle and was surprised to find the door unlocked. She went inside.

"John!" she called, walking into the living area. The place was a mess, she righted a chair that had been overturned. Dixie started to get worried. She hoped that John was not lying somewhere hurt.

Suddenly there was a crash from the kitchen. Dixie jumped at the noise. "Damn!" came John's voice

"Johnny!" Dixie called, relief evident in her voice. She went to the kitchen door and then stepped back in surprise, her hand going to her mouth in horror.

Before her was not the Johnny Gage she knew and loved. John was sprawled on the kitchen floor where he had just fallen. He was dishevelled, unshaven. His eyes had the hollow look of someone who had not slept. His face was gaunt, he looked even thinner than usual and his clothes looked as if they had been slept in for days. In one hand he held a half empty beer bottle and he was obviously drunk.

"Hiya, Dix, wanna drink?" he asked, giving her a lopsided grin as he struggled to sit up.

"No thanks, John.” Dixie replied frostily "And I think you've had enough too.”

"Don't mother me!" John snapped, downing the rest of the bottle in one gulp and throwing the empty bottle against the wall. Dixie flinched as the bottle smashed, glass fragments flying around the room.

"What the hell are you doing here?" John demanded.

"I came to see if you were okay," Dixie said.

"Well, you can see I'm okay, now go away!” John said. He reached into the crate next to him and got out another bottle of beer. Dixie knocked it out of his hand.

“You’ve had enough, John,” she said firmly.

“Don’t tell me when I’ve had enough,” John growled. "Bitch!"

Dixie slapped him across the face. "John Gage, don't you ever talk to me like that again!" she warned.

John glared at her, breathing hard, trying to get his emotions under control. Then, as suddenly as it had came, his anger dispersed. He hung his head as he realised what he had just said to one of his best friends. "Dix, I.." he stammered, "I'm sorry."

Dixie looked at him, wearing her sternest 'head nurse' look. “Get up,” she said.

John knew better that to argue with Dix, whilst she was in that mode. He tried to get up, but slumped to the floor again as his right leg gave way.

“Come on, get up,” Dixie commanded again. She grabbed John under the arms and hauled him to his feet. “Let’s get you to bed,” she said. She half carried him towards the bedroom.

###

It was the middle of the night when Dixie awoke to screaming coming from the bedroom. "Johnny!" she exclaimed as she ran to the door.

John was drenched in sweat. The sheets were entangled in his legs as he thrashed wildly on the bed, trapped in a nightmare. "No.” he moaned, "Don't do this to me Mike, Nooooo!!!!" the last came out as an agonized scream.

Dixie rushed to his side. "Johnny wake up” she said, shaking him.

John opened his eyes, "Dix?" he asked.

"It's okay, it was just a dream,” Dixie soothed, sitting on the side of the bed and gathering him into her arms. John tried to get his breathing under control. His heart was hammering against his ribcage. He looked at her with dark ringed eyes.

"No it was real. Mike died in there and I just let him,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dixie stroked his hair, "No you didn't,” she said

"Dix, I was there!" John exclaimed, "I should've got him out first, I knew that but he insisted that I get the others out, he pulled rank on me!"

"Yes and thanks to you, three men lived,” Dixie replied.

"But Mike died!" John insisted.

"John,” Dixie said, sternly "I saw the coroners report. He would have died anyway, his injuries were too severe - even if you had got him out first, he wouldn't have made it to the hospital."

"Lord, how I miss him,” John whispered, tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

"I know, Johnny, I know.” Dixie said, as he buried his face in her shoulder, great sobs racking his body. She held him tight until the crying ceased.

###

John woke to the sound of waves crashing on the beach below his bedroom window. He had a terrible hangover. He tried to sit up, but the movement made him feel sick. “Man!” he groaned, sinking back into the pillow as the world spun.

He heard a soft laugh. Dixie McCall was standing in the doorway. “Feeling a bit fragile, are we?” she asked, crossing over to the bedside.

“A bit,” John admitted.

“So you should be,” Dix scolded, “Do you want some coffee?” she asked.

John groaned at the thought of anything even going vaguely near his stomach. “No, I think I’ll pass on that right now,” he said, with a weak smile.

"You'll feel better once you've had a shower and changed out of those clothes," Dixie surmised.

"Yeah, you're probably right," John agreed, as he got out of bed and shakily made his way to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, he re-emerged from the bathroom. A towel wrapped around his middle.

"That's better," Dixie commented "How do you feel?"

"Awful," John replied.

"Well, go and get dressed and I'll fix you something to eat."

John shifted uneasily from foot to foot, wearing an expression that wouldn't have looked out of place on an embarrassed teenager.

"What wrong, John?" Dixie asked, an amused look starting to play on her lips.

"I, ah, well, um, I haven't got any fresh clothes," John stammered.

Dixie laughed outright. "John Gage, you are the limit!" she exclaimed, “Okay, you go back to bed. I’ll go to your apartment and get you some fresh clothes.”

“No, Dix don’t,” John pleaded.

“Well, if you really want to stroll around in the buff all day...” Dixie said, John blushed.

“Okay, you win,” he conceded. He grabbed her arm, “Dix, you won’t tell anyone?” he said, urgently.

“Tell anyone what?” Dix was confused.

“Where I am.”

“Not if you don't want me to, why?”

“It’s just..” John stopped “It’s just, I don’t want Roy and the others to know. I need some time on my own.”

Dixie frowned, she couldn’t see why John wanted to distance himself from those who cared most about him - his ‘station family’. “John, they’re worried about you,” she said “Roy and Joanne are really eating themselves up about this and Chet is about ready to call in the National Guard.”

“I know they’re worried,” John sighed, “But I really can’t handle all of that at the moment.”

“Can I at least tell them that you’re okay?” Dixie suggested.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” John grudgingly agreed.

###

It was a typically quiet Sunday morning at Station 51. Their chores done, the crew were sitting around the kitchen table, drinking coffee and discussing what they had done on their days off. The mood, however, was somber. No word had been heard from John Gage since his disappearance 5 days earlier and all their enquiries had drawn a blank. The telephone rang in Captain Stanley’s office and he went to answer it.

The peaceful atmosphere was shattered 5 minutes later by the normally calm, unflappable Captain bursting into the kitchen like a man possessed. “Johnny’s been found!” he said breathlessly.

“Where?”

“When?”

“By who?”

“Which hospital?” The questions came thick and fast.

“Hold it, hold it, one at a time please,” Captain Stanley held up his hand for silence. “That’s better,” he said, as the crew settled down. “Okay, that was Dixie McCall, she rang to let us know that she’d found Johnny and that he was okay."

“Where is he, when can we see him?” Marco asked.

“Like I said which hospital?” Chet quipped.

“She didn’t tell me where he was, she said he had asked her not to.”

“What?!” Roy exclaimed.

Captain Stanley shrugged, “I’m only telling you what she said, pal” he said.

“Where is Dix now?” Roy asked.

“She said she was just picking some things up from John’s apartment.”

Roy made to leave.

“Hold it pal, you’re still on company time,” Captain Stanley reminded him.

“But, Cap!” Roy started to protest.

“Listen, Roy, John has asked that he be left alone for a while. I think the best thing we could do right now is to accede to his wishes.”

Roy thought for a moment then nodded “Yeah, Cap you’re right.”

###

Night was falling. John was sitting on the sun deck watching the Pacific rollers on their relentless battle against the shore.

"Why don't you come inside?" Dixie asked from the doorway "It's getting cold.”

"I'm fine,” John replied, stonily.

Dixie pulled up another chair and sat down beside him, watching him intently as he stared out over the sea. Gently she reached up and traced the scar that ran down the right side of his face. John flinched at the contact.

"Nickel for them?" she asked.

"No, they're not for sale,” John replied.

"Quarter then, my best and final offer," Dixie persisted.

"Take it from me. They're not worth it.”

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

John looked down as his hands. He was holding his LA County Fire Department badge. "I'm quitting the Department,” he said quietly.

Dixie was shocked, "John, you can't do that!"

"Can't I? Watch me,” John said, as he threw the badge into the night. They sat in silence for a few minutes, then John spoke up, his voice barely audible against the noise of the ocean. "I just can't do it anymore, Dix,” he said.

"John, the Department needs you.”

"Screw the Department,” John said, vehemently.

"Roy needs you,” Dixie continued.

"He'll get another partner,” John replied.

"I need you,” Dixie said softly, taking his arm. John turned to look at her, their eyes' meeting. John turned away and hung his head.

"Michael needed me and I let him down,” he said, in a small voice.

"You did all that you could, John.”

"But it wasn't enough!” John exclaimed.

"Sometimes even your best isn't enough.” Dixie said, her voice took on a serious tone "John, how many times do you think I've stood there in ER and watched as, despite all our efforts, someone died?" she asked.

"It's not the same,” John retorted, "Michael was a friend.”

"Yes and we've all had friends die, but you can't let it affect you. You’ve been a paramedic long enough to know the score.”

"Perhaps that's it, Dix, perhaps I've been in the business too long.” John said, "Perhaps it's time to move on."

"What would you do?" Dixie asked.

John shrugged "I don't know, go back to Montana, I suppose.”

"What a waste,” Dixie said, sadly. She got up and shivered. The night had rolled in and with it a cold wind from the sea.

"I'm going inside, John, it's too cold out here."

"I'll be in soon,” John assured her, as he stared off into the night, wrapped up in dark thoughts of his own.

###

There was a knock at the beach house door. "I'll get it!" Dixie called from the lounge.

John could hear a muffled conversation coming from the lounge. Curious as to the identity of their visitor, he came out of the kitchen. There standing in the lounge was Chet Kelly.

"Chet!" John exclaimed.

"Er, hi, Johnny" Chet said, nervously.

“How the hell did you find me?” John asked angrily, he shot an accusing look at Dixie.

“Vince Howard,” Chet said simply.

“Vince?!” John exclaimed.

"Vince has been keeping an eye out for you. He rang me this morning to say he’d spotted your Land Rover up here, so I thought I’d come up and..”

“Who else have you told?” John interrupted, he had visions of the whole crew of Station 51 descending on the beach house.

“No one” Chet said.

“Well just make sure it stays that way” John growled.

John sighed, if Chet had made the effort to come all the way up here, the least he could do was to be hospitable. “Coffee?” he asked.

“So how are you feeling, John?” Chet asked, he was leaning against the doorpost of the kitchen.

“Fine, Chet, just fine” John replied, a slight tightness in his voice, as he brewed a fresh pot of coffee.

“John, I’m just going to the store. You will be joining us for dinner won’t you, Chet?” Dixie asked.

“Gee thanks, Dix, I’d like that,” Chet replied. John threw him a sour look.

###

It was late when dinner was finally over.

“Dix, that was truly delicious,” Chet said, appreciably. He glanced at his watch, "Gee is that the time, I must be going."

"Chet, you're not seriously thinking of driving in your condition?" John admonished.

Chet shrugged, "Guess, I'll have to call a cab."

“Why don’t you stay the night?” Dixie offered, “You’ll have to share the bedroom with John though,” she went on.

“Oh man!” John exclaimed, “Chet snores like a elephant!”

“No worse than you, pal” Chet retorted, with a grin.

"Kelly," John warned.

###

It was four in the morning, when Chet burst into the living room and shook Dixie awake.

"Dix, come quick, you've got to help. Johnny's having some sort of seizure, he's hyperventilating, sweating profusely. I don't know what to do!”

"It's okay, Chet,” Dixie said, calmly.

Chet looked up in panic as a scream came from the bedroom.

"It's a nightmare,” Dixie explained "He'll snap out of it in a minute.”

"A nightmare!" Chet exclaimed, "What sort of nightmare?" he asked.

"About what happened, he's still blaming himself about Michael's death. He's had the same dream every night this week.”

"Gee, I didn't realise,” Chet said thoughtfully.

Johnny appeared in the doorway. He looked haggard, drained.

"You okay, pal?" Chet asked. Concern was evident in his voice.

John nodded weakly "I'm sorry to wake you guys. I'll just go and freshen up.” he stammered as he made his way to the bathroom.

Dixie pulled Chet aside. "Chet, I just don't know what to do,” she said. "Johnny is talking about quitting the Department.”

"Quitting!" Chet exclaimed, "He can't do that!"

"That's what he says he's gonna do.”

"Hey, what are you two talking about?" Johnny asked, coming back into the room.

"You,” Chet said.

"Oh, I see, you've been psycho analysing me have you?" Dixie and Chet both looked at each other and down at the floor.

" Dixie, why don't you take the bedroom, Johnny and I need to talk.”

"We do?" Johnny asked.

"Yes, pal, we do.” Chet said forcefully.

“Just how much has she been saying to you?” John inquired.

“Not much,” Chet said “I thought you might fill me in on the more interesting bits. Like why you’re quitting the Department?”

Johnny sighed “I just don’t think I can go back, Chet.”

“Why not?”

“I just, I mean, I just don’t think I’m cut out for it anymore.”

“Oh come off it, Johnny, you’re one of the best rescue paramedics in the business, everybody knows that.”

“But Chet I can’t even save a life..”

“Bullshit “Chet interjected “I’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve saved lives that people had said weren’t able to be saved. Hell, you’ve saved mine on a couple of occasions.”

“Yeah, we’re all allowed to make one mistake aren’t we?” John gave Chet a wolfish grin.

“Gage, be serious. You know how important your role is in the Department, a lot of people owe their lives to you and you’re just going to throw that away?”

John looked at him sternly “I’ve thought a lot about this Chet, it’s not a snap decision. I just can’t take the risk.”

“Oh come off it Gage! You knew the risks when you came into the department we all knew the risks, Michael knew the risks.”

John looked as though he had been slapped at the mention of Michael’s name.

“I know how you feel, John,” Chet said.

“Know how I feel? How the hell would you know how I feel?!” John screamed. He lunged at Chet, his fingers closing around the other man’s neck.

Chet looked at John in terror. He had never seen John so mad. John’s grip tightened, Chet started to find it difficult to breathe. “Gage, ah” he stammered.

“What? You have something to say, Kelly?” John growled.

“I!” Chet squeaked and then decided to take the only course of action he could. He hit John on the jaw with such force that John flew across the room, hitting the wall on the far side. Chet rubbed his neck, coughing slightly to get his throat back into service. He crossed over to where John lay.

John fingered his jaw. Blood was dripping from a cut on his lip. He looked up at Chet. “Guess I deserved that,” he said quietly.

“Like I’ve always told you, Gage. Don’t mess with a Kelly,” Chet replied, he held out his hand.

John grabbed it and hauled himself up. “Look, Chet, I,” he stammered, trying to find the right words to apologise.

Chet shook his head, “Let’s forget it, Pal,” he said.

“But I can’t forget, Chet, I can’t forget what happened,” John said, “Michael died and I couldn’t save him.”

"Gage, Michael died while you were trying to save him, I was there remember?"

"Yeah, but I should have got him out first,” John insisted.

"So, why didn’t you?" Chet asked.

"Because he ordered me not to,” John said, "He pulled rank on me," he hung his head.

"So what’s your beef then? You were only following orders.”

"Yeah but,” John was finding it difficult to put his feelings into words.

"There’s no buts Gage. You were given an order and you followed it,” Chet interjected.

"But he died, Chet,” John said, stubbornly.

“Yes, he died, Johnny, but if you had got him out first, would he have lived?”

John was silent, remembering Dixie’s words about the coroners report on Michael’s injuries.

“Maybe,” he said quietly.

“John, he wouldn’t have made it. You know that,” Chet reasoned, “Anyhow, if you had got him out, would you have had time to get the others out alive?”

“Perhaps,” John replied.

Chet looked at him sternly “Come on, John, be honest,” he urged.

“Perhaps not all of them,” John said, uncomfortably.

“So which do you leave behind? The youngster. The guy whose wife’s expecting their first child or the one with the three kids - come on it’s your choice.”

John looked away, tears were forming in his eyes. He wiped them away angrily. “It’s not fair!” he cried, hitting the wall in frustration.

“Life’s not fair,” Chet replied. John looked at Chet. As much as he hated to admit it, Chet was right. Chet laid a comforting hand on John's shoulder. "I know how you feel, John. We all know what it’s like to lose a friend.”

###

Despite his interrupted night's sleep, John woke early the next morning. Careful not to disturb the others he left the house and went for a walk along the beach, he had a lot to think about. Suddenly his reverie was interrupted by a woman screaming. He looked up as the woman ran to him and grabbed him by the arm. "Oh, please, mister, you've got to help!"

"Okay, calm down now, what's wrong ma'am?"

"It's my husband,” the woman pointed out to the sea "I told him not to go out, but he insisted.”

John squinted out to sea, he could make out the man about 400 yards offshore. He didn't appear to be moving. John started to pull off his clothes.

"Go find a phone,” he ordered, "Dial 911.”

John dove into the sea. Pacing himself that he didn't tire, he swam out to the man. Treading water he felt for the man's carotid pulse. It was there albeit weak. The man was unconscious, John couldn't tell if he had ingested any water. Cupping the man's chin with his right hand, John turned and struck out for the shore.

Breathing hard from the effort, John hauled the victim up onto the beach and knelt down beside him. He started to take vital signs. Suddenly, the man stopped breathing. This left John with no option, he immediately started CPR and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. He prayed that help would come soon.

The wail of sirens cut through the early morning air. John glanced up from his labours to see a squad pull up and the man's wife directing the two paramedics down to the shoreline.

"Okay, pal we'll take over.” Steve McDaniel said.

John looked up "He's all yours, Steve.”

"Gage? What the hell are you doing here? It's a little out of your patch,” Jim Foley commented as he started to connect up the oxygen kit.

"Just passing,” John replied "He was unconscious in the water when I hauled him out. He went into respiratory arrest about 5 minutes ago. I've been doing CPR and mouth-to-mouth.”

"Thanks, Johnny, lucky you were here.”

John stood back to allow the other men to work on the patient. Silently he got dressed. Dixie and Chet came running up the beach. They had heard the sirens and having found Johnny gone, had feared the worst.

"Gage, what happened, are you alright?" Chet asked.

"Yeah,” John said, wearily. He absentmindedly rubbed his right shoulder. "Guy suffered a heart attack whilst out swimming.” The three friends watched as Jim and Steve got the patient stabilised and loaded the man onto a stretcher ready for transportation to hospital. The man's wife crossed over to John.

"I can't thank you enough,” she said, tears in her eyes.

“No problem ma'am," John assured her with a smile.

The ambulance drove away. Jim Foley started to pack up their gear.

"Good work, Gage,” he commented, "I thought you'd retired.”

John laughed, "At my age?" he enquired.

"Well considering..." Jim left the sentence hanging. He knew firsthand, how badly John had been injured in that fire.

"Yeah, well don't hold your breath on that one, Jim, 51 hasn't got a vacancy yet,” John grinned.

"Glad to hear it, John, glad to hear it.”

After Squad 48 had left the scene, the three friends walked slowly back to the beach house. John was limping badly, leaning on Chet for support.

"You did well out there, John. Still thinking of resigning?" Dixie asked, as they got to the steps leading up to the sun deck.

John bent down and retrieved something from the sand near the steps. He threw it up into the air, catching it deftly in one hand. "Guess I'll still be needing this,” he commented, revealing his LACoFD badge.

Thanks to Mady for checking this twice for me.

"Tender Loving Care" ©1999 Karen Hobbs. "Emergency!" and its characters © Mark VII Productions, Inc. All rights reserved. No infringement of any copyrights or trademarks is intended or should be inferred. This is a work of fiction, and any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

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