HEART OF EVIL - PART SEVEN -- The E!Shelter Interactive Story Board

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Date Posted: 08:05:45 09/14/99 Tue
Author: E! SISTERS
Subject: HEART OF EVIL - PART SEVEN

Author: DiAnne ;)

Josie was ready to dash out the door, terrified she would get caught. She knew from personal experience that ICU patients were highly guarded by the nursing staff and rarely left alone. The fact that she was able to get in here in the first place was somewhat astonishing to her.

Fear fighting against curiosity, the latter got the best of her when she heard another moan. Steeling herself, she
summoned up the courage to approach the bed one more time.

This time, a pair of dark brown eyes peered at her through narrow slits. Frightened, questioning eyes searched for answers. Josie pulled the surgical mask down past her chin and smiled at the man staring up at her.

Putting on the best 'nurse' smile she had seen countless times in her brother's room, she purred sweetly, "Shh�don't try to talk. You need your strength. You'll be out of your misery before you know it." Her voice remained sooth and calm, though her words held a double-edged meaning, known only to her.

She smiled again when she saw that her ploy had worked. The dark eyes closed, and the face that held them relaxed.

Quickly and quietly, Josie exited the room. Turning the corner down the hall, she could see she had left not a
moment too soon, as a nurse entered through the very door she had just escaped from.

Hurrying down the hallway, she lucked out when she found an empty elevator. Tearing off the stolen scrubs, she rolled them into a tight ball and tucked them under her arm. She had to get away. She had to think�

Author: Brenda

Joanne took one final, calming breath, then pushed open the door. She immediately felt some small measure of relief, seeing that Roy looked much better then he had when they had first brought him in. His color was a little better, the various cuts and scrapes had been cleaned and bandaged, and there were freshly applied crisp white bandages circling his head, hiding his wounded blue eyes from view.

She slowly moved forward, drinking in the sight of him, as though it had been years rather then hours since she had seen him last. She gently picked up his hand, holding it tightly in her own. Dr. Brackett had explained that they would continue to monitor him closely for a little while longer, and that he would probably be tired and groggy for a while yet. She didn't care - all she wanted was to be with him.

"Roy?" she said softly, hoping he could hear her, wanting more then anything to hear his voice. When he didn't respond, she bent to give him a gentle kiss.

"Ann?" the voice was groggy and weak, but still it thrilled her heart to hear it.

"Hi honey. How are you feeling? Are you in pain?" Her own voice trembled slightly, the relief that he was out of surgery flooding through her. She squeezed his hand more tightly.

" 'kay..." the tired word finally emerged.

"Good, because I miss you and want you to rest get better," her words were soothing and she gently brushed at his hair.

"How 'bout you?" the worried, weakened voice continued. Roy slowly turned his head a bit, as if trying to look at her.

"I'm just great now that you're here with me." She stroked his cheek gently in comfort.

"Kids?" His voice seemed to be fading somewhat.

"They're just fine honey. They're staying with Susan and Deke right now. They're anxious to see their daddy."

She saw a small, relieved smile appear on her husband's face, having the assurance that his family was okay. He squeezed her hand. Joanne drew in a deep breath, steeling herself for the next question. Johnny was also part of their family, and she dreaded hearing the sad, plaintive words of her husband over again. In fact, the image of his distraught face in the ER earlier was an image she couldn't get out of her head, no
matter how hard she tried. She didn't ever want to have to tell him...

Surprisingly, the question did not come, and somehow that fact worried her more. She watched his face but Roy remained silent. Joanne pulled a chair close to the bed so that she could stay with him for a while, make sure he was okay. Once she settled in the chair, she took his hand in hers again, prepared to maintain her vigil.

She could see that Roy looked restless - there was more he wanted to say, but the effects of the medication and the trauma of recent hours seemed to be pulling him away again.

"Roy you just get some rest now and I'll be right here with you." She wanted to make it so that he would never hurt again, knowing it was an impossible task. And when he was stronger, she vowed, she'd have to break the news to him about Johnny. She desperately wanted Roy to get better, but she dreaded that moment of truth and pain - for both of them.

She was startled from her thoughts by her husband's soft voice. "...wanna go see Johnny."

She felt as though her stomach would drop out of the bottom... She held his hand more tightly, nervously
running her fingers through his hair in comfort. "You get some rest, okay sweetie?" She wanted to divert his thoughts from this painful subject.

"...just talked to him, over there." Roy continued to mumble.

Joanne became alarmed. The doctors had said that the medication he was on would probably keep him out of it,
but it hurt to hear his jumbled thoughts, his heartbreaking expectation of going to see Johnny, as if he were simply recovering next door down. She would be sure to mention it to Brackett in case it was some kind of sign of complications. She continued to brush back her husband's hair and stroke his arm gently, hoping the soft, repetitive motions would soothe him into a healing sleep, away from his troubled thoughts.

"Promised...see 'im over here..." the words were almost inaudible this time.

"Don't worry honey," Joanne said, fighting to keep her voice even. "Johnny is being...taken care of. Please get some rest."

"Yeah, he'll be 'kay." Roy drifted into an exhausted sleep, but not before the smallest of smiles appeared on the
tired face.

Joanne stayed there, her hand clinging to his, probably more for her own comfort then anything. 'God I wish I could tell you Johnny was going to be okay.' Joanne thought numbly. 'I wish that none of this had ever happened. I wish...' she looked at Roy tenderly then closed her eyes. 'I wish I never had to tell you that your best friend will no longer be there in your life, in our lives...' She place a gentle kiss on her sleeping husband's lips, then quietly headed for the door, turning to take in the sight of her living, breathing husband one more time before heading out into the hallway to find Dr. Brackett...

Author: DiAnne ;)

Flirting on the edge of consciousness, Johnny struggled to open his eyes. He yearned to hear a familiar voice, see a familiar face. His mind fought its way back once, and he knew it could do it again. When he had finally manage to accomplish this task the first time, the face he saw was none he knew. Though it smiled at him and assured him that he would soon be fine, he longed to hear Dixie's voice, or Dr.
Brackett's, or Roy's again. He wasn't sure how, he knew he had already spoken to Roy, knew that his partner was going to be alright. He had wanted to ask the smiling face looking down at him if Roy really was alright, or if he had dreamt it, but its soothing voice hypnotized him back into the realms of the deep abyss that he now fought to overcome.

Cara sat by the young fireman's bed, holding his hand, much as she did when they feared they would finally lose him in that treatment room. She saw the movement of his eyes behind closed eyelids, and hoped this meant he would soon come back to them. Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, she gasped when she felt it returned. Daring to glance up, hoping against hope, she was rewarded when the dark warmth of his brown eyes gazed back at her.

"Welcome back, Mister," Cara smiled, hitting the call button near the bed at the same time. "It's about time you decide to come visit the real world."

Author: Sally

Johnny studied the young Nurse standing by his bedside...his mind worked to form a coherent thought he could express...and to coordinate the task of delivering the words...

Finally, with much effort, he uttered...."not...Rampart?"

Cara leaned down, barely catching the faint whisper. Offering him a reassuring smile, she responded. "No...this isn't Ramapart. You were brought to the UCLA Medical Center."

Johnny gave a slight nod of understanding...any more movement on his part seemed impossible at the moment.

So-- UCLA? Well, that explained the absence of Dixie, Brackett, Early...and even Morton...who, while
lacking in suitable bedside manner, he would have welcomed as at least one familiar person in this sea of strangers.

He also understood why Roy wasn't there -- again his mind wandering to the "visit" he had experienced with his best friend...HAD IT REALLY HAPPENED?

He thought about Roy's eyes...PLEASE LET THEM HEAL!

He knew that JoAnne would be with Roy...by his side...a constant presence...and a part of him deeply envied his partner that gift, but the larger part of his heart was glad that Roy had his wife and family to help him through the entire ordeal.

Johnny lets his eyes canvass the room once again, then beyond to the glass partition that revealed a small portion of the ICU...to where he hoped...expected...to see one of his other pals from Station 51, perhaps waiting for permission from the Nurse to enter.

He saw no one...other than more NURSES.

Where were the others?

Cap. Marco. Chet. Mike.

Why weren't any of them come? Within the ranks of the Fire Department, it was always a given, that when a comrade had fallen -- his fellow fire fighters rallied around to provide support.

Why was this time different?

He couldn't help but feel...abandoned.

"...Never feel that you have been abandoned, John Roderick. Even if everyone you know quit you, I shall never leave your side...."

Johnny drew in a sharp breath, the haunting words that had just surfaced from within his battered mind, delivering a jolt.

LAUREL!

He turned anxious eyes upon the only figure standing in the room.

"L...Laurel?" he uttered.

"Laurel?" Cara repeated. "Who's Laurel?"

Johnny looked away from the Nurse...toward the window...and to the cloud filled sky beyond.

Indeed...WHO IS LAUREL?

Author: Sally

Within the confines of the cafeteria at Rampart General, Hank Stanley and his three, remaining healthy firefighters were gathered around a table -- having selected one sectioned off
in one corner-- isolating themselves from the hubbub of the mid-day meal being served.

Their food remained untouched -- but for being pushed around on plates, toyed with listlessly.

They had exchanged very few words since leaving the waiting room -- mostly relief at knowing that Roy would live -- and their hopes that he would regain full sight again.

A heavy silence had fallen over the foursome since selecting their seating -- each man lost in the privacy of his own thoughts -- his own feelings.

Finally, without looking up from where he forked around a small mound of noodles, Chet asked softly, "So...what about..." hesitation, and then his voice cracked when he at last forced out the name. "...John?"

For a few moments after the question had been asked, he received no indication that it had even been heard by the other three men.

Just as he was about to asked again, Hank Stanley spoke up.

"I'll take of....things."

As Captain of Station 51 -- he knew it was his responsibility to see the matter of claiming Johnny Gage's body - and seeing that the dead fire fighter received the type of funeral he deserved....and he would have it no other way....if only to protect Kelly, Lopez, Stoker...and most of all Roy....from having to suffer through such an ordeal.

"I can't believe he's gone..." Marco shook his head. "I just can't believe Johnny's really gone!"

"Yeah...I know..." Chet agreed. "I keep hoping this is all just some kind of-- bad dream...that'll be over the second the wake-up tones sound."

"It's not a dream." Stoker said, then added darkly. "Somebody out there -- still running loose -- MURDERED Johnny!"

Author: DiAnne ;)

The stark contrast between the hot steamy water that seeped into her every pore, and the feel of the cold hard porcelain on the back of her neck was just what Josie needed. She sank even lower into the bubbled bath that she had drawn for herself, trying to drown out her memories. Try as she would though, the mental picture of that young dark-haired man looking up at her with scared, questioning eyes kept coming back to haunt her thoughts.

Despite herself, she found herself wondering about him. Did he have family too? Was that distraught woman at Rampart a wife? A sister? Have his friends, or family, yet learned that he was not dead, but indeed alive, over at UCLA? He had looked so lost, so forlorn, so alone, much like she felt on most days.

Josie closed her eyes tightly. She willed the unwanted visions to disappear. She didn't want to feel sorry for
him. She didn't want to think about his pain or the pain of those who loved him. She didn't want to think that he had a life too. Maybe even a good life. Maybe a life he treasured as much as she once treasured her own.

Forcing all thoughts of him out of her mind, old nightmares came creeping back into their place. Year old nightmares. 'The Night from Hell', as she had dubbed it. The smell was still there. The smell of burning lumber, burning flesh, as she fought to find her family among the rubble. The sounds of victims caught in the blast. The sound of her little brother as he whimpered softly in her arms. And then the sound of silence. So much silence. All around her everything had been moving fast, noisily, yet she had heard none of it. All she
was aware of was the stillness in her arms, and the knowledge that both her parents, and then, her youngest brother, had perished.

Angst turned to anger as the image of her lone surviving brother penetrated her brain. Anger with the knowledge that the whole horrific incident could have been avoided. Anger that she was powerless to help. Anger that those responsible were not made accountable for their actions. She wanted revenge. She wanted someone to pay. She needed to make someone pay.

So lost in thought was she, that Josie was scarcely aware of telephone ringing in the next room. Running her hands over her face, she shook her head and listened. Grabbing a large bath towel, she quickly wrapped it around her and dashed to the phone, leaving a trail of water droplets behind her.

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