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"Still hurts?"
"Well, it's getting better."
John winced and made little noises of pain as Morton manipulated his shoulder.
"Better, huh?"
John huffed an annoyed breath, making a face. Wisely, he kept silent as Morton worked his way from his shoulder to his upper arm.
"How about your ribs? You're not breathing shallow."
Morton didn't give the paramedic time to respond as he checked for himself. John winced when the doctor reached a certain point. He let out another noise of pain when Morton pushed on it again.
"Hm. Still bruised, I see."
"Ahh...gimme a break, doc. Can you tone down the pokin' and proddin'?"
No, he couldn't. He needed to make sure John was recovering at the rate he should be.
It had only been a week since the massive high rise fire that seemingly damn-near all stations responded to. It was rough, prolonged, caused injuries to firefighters, and overall was a mess to deal with.
But it had been dealt with, in the end. The building would never be the same and definitely required a massive overhaul. However, there were no deaths, just injuries. Everyone was lucky.
Injuries, as Morton had discovered, that ranged in severity and causes.
John had hid the actual reason for the hurt shoulder, left arm and left ribs. He had blamed it on getting rocked by an explosion or two, then having to lug the captain of 110s out of the building.
It was barely a white lie.
What had actually happened was that John had played anchor to three firefighters, using nothing but tied firehose, in an elevator shaft where he had nothing to hang on to. Where did Morton learn this information from? Roy. Three days after, when he was visiting that captain.
Annoying didn't describe it. Frustrating barely did it justice. It was straight up, no-frills deadly.
And it wasn't even the first time he felt this way.
John must've caught Morton ruminating, because his expression changed, softened and confused.
"Everything alright, doc?"
Morton didn't respond for a few seconds, which led John to speak again.
"I mean, if you're worried about me, don't be." He flexed his right arm out, spreading out his fingers as he patted his arm. "I bounce back quickly."
"Don't you realize that's the problem?"
The words were out of the doctor's mouth before he could stop himself. He intended to say it in a low voice, something only he could hear, but John had clearly heard it as well given his surprised reaction.
"Huh?"
Forget this, he needed to be told. "I said..." Morton flipped around, crossing his arms. "Don't you realize that's the problem? 'Bouncing back' from your injuries."
Silence entered the exam room. Morton felt like he already said his peace, told the paramedic what he needed to hear. He flipped back around, ready to move on, re-wrap the injuries, and send John on his way.
It was becoming absolutely, totally--
"Okay."
Morton looked over his shoulder in shock, eyebrows raised. John crossed his arms and shrugged in return, then winced at the movement. He worked through the discomfort and pain, letting out an irritated breath.
"You said 'that's the problem' to me recovering quickly from injuries. And you...seem to be upset at this recent injury."
His expression hardened slightly. "That means you have something't say to me. So. Okay." John swung his arms out. "What's the problem?"
A sigh. Morton turned around to face the paramedic.
"You'll reserve judgment?"
John immediately nodded in return. "No judgments."
He had changed. In the seven years Morton had known him, John had changed.
He had started out a little rough, still figuring his way out. They had both bumped heads. Morton silently saw part of himself in John, though of course never told anyone.
But he figured his way around, and slowly improved. Sure enough, so did John nearly alongside him. They both changed in different ways, John in particular became uncommonly kind. Almost empathetic in certain situations.
Even a year ago, Morton couldn't fathom John saying "I'm listening" to his grievances and concerns. Yet here they were. The doctor worked to hide a smile of satisfaction as he lowered his head.
Morton grabbed the stool next to the counter, sliding it over.
"John, how long do you and Roy have before you both become captains?"
As the doctor sat down in front of his patient, he watched John make a face at him, unprepared for that question.
"...just under six months."
"Just under six months." Morton repeated. "Now, has it ever occurred to you the danger that's going to bring?"
"Being a captain carries new dangers, yeah."
"It does, but I'm not referring to that."
It was harder than he thought to keep calm as he continued on.
"Most of the injuries I've seen you sustain over the years, you've managed to recover fully from." A pause. "And in my professional opinion John, that's not just because of your unique ability to shrug them off. It's because of who you work with."
John titled his head like a curious dog. "Who I work with?"
"Yes." Morton nodded and leaned back. "You work with a wonderful group of people. People who understand you inside and out. A captain and partner who seem to know your strengths and weaknesses like the back of their hand. What you're capable of, what can and can't be done. The risk of something, and so on."
He gestured to the paramedic. "It will take a while to reach that point with your new crew, will it not?"
John looked off to the side. He knew he had said he'd reserve judgment, but he didn't expect this kind of grilling. "Well, sure, but it shouldn't take that long. It only took me a few months or so to understand Cap."
He made eye contact with Morton. "But that wouldn't affect me being able to recover fast from--from injuries."
“It’s not the injuries that your crew can help you with, it’s the old ones that you ran head first into. They will haunt you for the rest of your life."
The doctor raised his hand and counted out the injuries on his fingers. "I've seen you have burns, sprains, fractures, broken bones and major surgery. You've been a snake bite victim, a car accident victim, a gas leak explosion victim."
He gestured to John, barely hiding his frustration. "And now, dangerously close to permanent rib and shoulder injuries."
John leaned back, suddenly uncomfortable. "Getting hurt is an occupational hazard of our job, doc."
Morton picked up on the gesture immediately. He wanted to continue with his words, really lay out his grievances. John's expression and body language made him stop in his tracks. He now seemed unhappy, almost troubled by the doctor's words. Wanting to escape the conversation.
He breathed out and let the frustrations he had go with it. What the heck was he doing? He didn't understand the firefighting world, the risks they took. John, in no way shape or form, deserved to be used as a verbal punching back by him.
Finally, Morton shook his head. Different, neutral words, then. "Inevitable occupational hazards. That's what confused me about firefighters when I first started here."
Morton was slightly relieved when John's uncomfortableness seemed to go away almost instantly. "Huh?"
"I could understand having some risk in your job. You were bound to get injured. However, I've heard--and seen--you get into situations no regular person would even fathom being in. Seemingly more deadly than the last."
The doctor slid back the chair slightly. "I really began to realize when I went with you and Roy to Station 86. I watched you two run down a muddy hill to rescue people in a car like it was just another day."
John let out a single laugh and crossed his arms. "Well, it pretty much was."
Morton pointed at the paramedic. "That, right there. I used to hate that attitude. That being in danger was routine. In fact, I wasn't impressed with any of the paramedics at first. I had figured you were making mistakes in the field that I needed to correct." A pause. "And as it turned out, I was wrong."
"Wrong, huh."
"Yes. I've come to respect you and Roy highly over the years. Many citizens in the county are alive because of you two. I want to see you continue your work John, and it's why I'm concerned about your repeated injuries."
John leaned back, but winced due to his shoulder. He rubbed it to soothe the pain.
"Cause you're worried they'll eventually catch up with me."
"Exactly."
It was...strangely comforting to hear from a person like Morton. Friends of the trade, so to speak. He had gone from a stone-cold persona to genuinely caring and leading. He never said it out loud to John though, and the paramedic was only left guessing if it were true.
Who would've thought? Morton was willing to fully support him. He still seemed bothered by John's repeated injuries and becoming a captain. He needed to soothe those worries.
Finally, John nodded. "Y'know doc, you're right about being a captain. That I won't work with Roy, or Cap or anyone else directly anymore. But they won't let me off the leash that easily."
John lightly laughed at Morton's reaction to his comparison.
"It's only been a week since the rescue in the elevator, and I can't count the number of times Roy's called and asked to visit and check on me. That won't stop because I'll be a captain."
Morton smiled in his usual way, rolling the chair away from John. "Picked up a bit of
philosophy somewhere along the way, I see."
John shared his smile as he hopped down off the table, putting his shirt back on. “I promise I will be more...mindful of myself. I will have a whole crew of my own to worry about, and I can’t do a good job of that without being on top of my game."
He pulled down his shirt, seemingly with renewed energy. "Trust me doc, you all have taught me here how to worry about a crew!"