Fic: Rainbow's Freedom (Justice Arc) (22/61)
Title: Rainbow’s Freedom (Justice Arc) (22/61)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Roy/Johnny, Chet Kelly, Marco Lopez, Mike Stoker, Hank Stanley, Dixie McCall, Henry, Stu/Stella, John McConikee, Arlen Hawkins, Albert Scoggins
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. Clark begins training under the Bat and secrets are uncovered as the Abolitionist Movement makes rapid progress with old and new methods. Can Freedom outrace rumors of War as the Galactic Empire rushes headlong to a new future?
The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Drama, Slavefic
Rating: (this chapter): PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Roy returns to duty at Station 51.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): April 30, 2011
Date Of Posting: July 4, 2012
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 2554
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: The magnificent story cover is by the wonderfully-talented ctbn60. Thanks so much, luv! :)
The ashes drift down,
Like snow from the sky,
Delicate and burning,
And my heart burns.
John McCleeland
"The Worst Winter
In Living Memory"
1946 C.E.
XXII
THE ASHES DRIFT DOWN
Johnny felt excited as he and Roy rode to the station. Roy was back on duty, and both men were looking forward to the day.
They smiled at each other, not needing to say a word. They had done their talking in bed this morning, Roy’s wink making Johnny feel extremely happy. He took Roy’s hand and squeezed it, Roy smiling as he kept his eyes on the road.
They pulled into the parking lot at Station 51, the last to arrive, Roy noted.
“All the better to make a grand entrance,” Johnny said as he hopped out of Roy’s sports car. Roy shook his head fondly and followed his ebullient partner into the station.
“Hey, Roy, welcome back!” Chet said cheerfully as they entered the busy locker room.
“Hey, Chet. Thanks.” Roy opened his locker and was promptly doused by a Phantom water bomb, the crew laughing.
Marco said, “Now you’re really back!”
“Thanks,” Roy said with a wry smile, wiping strands of wet hair out of his eyes as Chet gloated.
“Hey, man, you have to change, anyway.”
“Tell the Phantom he better watch his back.” Roy began unbuttoning his shirt.
Chet grinned and finished tying his shoes as Marco and Mike snickered.
Roy looked at Johnny. “Et tu, Brute?”
His grinning partner said, “Hey, man, I’m the Phantom’s favorite target. Nice to see someone else doused for a change.”
Roy sniffed, but Johnny knew that he was not angry. He quickly changed into his uniform, pinning his badge on his shirt.
He paused for a moment, pride swelling up in him at the sight of that shiny silver badge. He had worked hard to earn the right to wear it, as well as his paramedic pin, which he fastened onto the blue fabric.
They all hurried out to roll call, Hank smiling at Roy. “Good to see you back, pal.”
“Thanks, Cap.”
“Okay, announcements for the day…”
Johnny half-listened to the announcements, reveling in Roy’s presence next to him in line. He brushed his hand against Roy’s, pleased when his partner smiled.
“…John, kitchen duty.”
“Yes, Cap.”
He began running through the ingredients they had on hand in his head. When he had first started at the station, his cooking repertoire had consisted mainly of hot dogs and hamburgers, never having been taught to cook much else. The men had taken pity on him, not to mention wanting a different menu on Johnny’s days to cook, and had taught him to cook their specialties in addition to some staples. Awed that they would take the time, Johnny had thrown himself into the lessons, paying close attention and practicing at home on Roy, who had willingly played his guinea pig.
Now Johnny could cook fried chicken and spaghetti, though not as good as Mike, and Irish stew, though Marco and Chet were better, same for their chili, and clam chowder, though Cap would always rule. Roy’s specialties were beef stew, meatloaf, and teriyaki stir-fry. Johnny could cook all of these things now, adding fish stew, vegetable casserole, and roast chicken to his repertoire, but sandwiches were his true specialty. He had come up with combinations of bread and ingredients that the guys raved about after some initial skepticism. They were willing to end up with a few clunkers for the sake of the amazing combos he had come up with. Johnny loved to put together combinations of Terran and off-world foods to make spectacular sandwiches. However, he had a plan for something new.
“What’s up in that pretty little head of yours?” Roy asked as they entered the kitchen. Henry yawned from the couch, the basset hound watching them with big, brown eyes. Roy scratched him behind the ears.
“Hmm?”
“You. What’s up? I can see the wheels turning.”
Johnny laughed. “You’re a suspicious man, Roy.”
“You bet I am. So? Give?”
Johnny grinned as he made sure that no one was in hearing distance. “Pizza.”
“Huh?”
“Pizza, Roy!” Johnny waved his arms around. “I have this real cool recipe for pizza. I think you and the guys’ll like it.”
“Isn’t homemade pizza a lot of work? Wouldn’t just getting some pies from Papa Angelo’s be easier?”
“Roy! Where’s the challenge in that?” Johnny shook his head.
“Just figuring it’s tough to make pizza with our schedule.”
“If I get interrupted too often or we get called out on a long run, I’ve got ingredients for sandwiches, quick ‘n’ easy.”
“Okay. It’s your show.”
Johnny liked the sound of that. His collar and manacles did not feel quite as heavy in that moment.
“That’s right, it is,” he said with a smile.
& & & & & &
Roy and Johnny want to Rampart to restock their medical supplies. Dixie greeted them cheerfully.
“Glad to see you back, Roy.”
“Glad to be back, Dix.”
“Quiet around here today?” asked Johnny.
“So far. Mornings tend to be quiet, though. Accidents seem to happen later in the day, except for morning rush hour.”
“True.” Roy said. “You should see some of the crazy drivers out thereon the freeway just as the sun is coming up.”
“Don’t I know it.” Dixie frowned at the paper she was holding. “Nursing schedules! The bane of my existence.”
“Wouldn’t doing them on the computer be easier?” asked Johnny.
“I do, after I do a rough sketch on paper.”
“What are you, a technophobe?”
“Ha! I’ll have you know I use the latest medical devices in treating our patients.”
Johnny grinned. It felt good to tease Dixie. He could never have dreamed that it would be like this, feeling so comfortable around freemen and freewomen. He was in love, respected by his friends and peers, and was doing good, honorable work.
“Let’s hope it stays quiet,” Dixie said.
“Amen to that,” Roy agreed.
Johnny nodded.
& & & & & &
Before they reached the station, Johnny and Roy were sent on a call (a man with chest pains). They worked smoothly and efficiently, calming the man’s wife and administering the proper medication under Rampart’s direction. The ride in the ambulance was uneventful, Johnny going with the patient. Roy met him at the hospital, and they made it back to Station 51. Johnny immediately started working on the pizza dough, Roy helping, and Chet poked his nose in between the two paramedics.
“Whatta makin’, John, bread?”
“Ha, you wish! No, snoopynose, I’m makin’ pizza.”
“Pizza!” Chet’s blue eyes lit up. “Cool!”
“Yeah, and if we get called out on a run, you’ll have to help by pitching in with the dough.”
“Yeah, you’re always lookin’ for more dough, Chet,” said Mike from his seat at the kitchen table as he read the newspaper on his Ipad.
“Ha, ha, boy, you guys are regular comedians.”
Marco entered the kitchen, heading over to the coffeepot. He poured a cup of the brew and asked, “What’s up, Chet? Poking your nose in again?”
“Very funny, Marco.”
Johnny grinned as he continued to knead the dough.
The klaxons sounded. “Squad 51, man trapped. 1313 Maple Street. 1-3-1-3, cross street, Elm. Time out, 11:50.”
“Hey, Chet, knead this dough, willya?” Johnny asked as he quickly washed his hands, Roy doing the same, then they ran out to the squad.
& & & & & &
“That’s a man trapped, all right,” Roy said as they approached the house, carrying their equipment. Johnny grinned.
The bottom half of a man was sticking out through a dog door. He looked overweight, and Roy said, “Hi, we’re the Fire Department.”
“Oh, thank goodness!”
Johnny and Roy exchanged amused looks. Setting down their equipment, they inspected the situation. Roy said, “Let’s see if we can twist him out. Gently, of course.”
Johnny grinned and took hold of the man’s hips and tried to move. “Sir, can you twist your hips a little?”
The man grunted. “I’m sorry, I can’t!”
“All right, do you have your key?” Roy asked.
“No, otherwise I wouldn’t be stuck in the door.”
“True,” Johnny said.
“Sorry, sir, had to ask. People forget things under pressure.” Roy sighed. “Well, we’re going to have to break in a window. Unless your neighbor has a spare key?”
“No one’s home.”
“All right, then we’ll have to break the window.”
“Can’t you figure out something?”
“I’m sorry, sir, there’s nothing else we can do.”
“But…”
“Hey, what’s going on?” A woman puffed her way up the driveway.
“The gentleman is stuck in the dog door,” said Roy.
The woman put her hands on her hips. “Oh, Stu! How could you?”
“I forgot my key.”
“You always forget your key,” she huffed. “Look, fellas, don’t smash anything. I’m got my key.” She dug into her purse. “Here you go.”
Roy took it and he went with the woman to the front door. She fluffed her platinum blonde hair and rolled her eyes. “Stu always forgets his key.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Honestly, that man would forget his head if it wasn’t attached to his shoulders.”
Roy kept quiet as Johnny silently laughed. His partner was the diplomatic one. He could help the woman vent her frustrations just by listening.
“Man, this is embarrassing.”
“It’s all right, sir.” Johnny resisted the urge to pat the man on his ample ass.
Roy’s voice came from inside the house. “All right, I’ll tug and you push.”
Johnny answered, “Ready!” He began to push, the man’s body twisting as Roy pulled from the other end. Finally, the man was all the way through. Roy opened the door and Johnny joined them in the kitchen.
“Thanks, fellas,” said the sheepish man, finger-combing his hair as his wife clucked at him.
“You never remember your key!”
“Sorry, Stella.”
Roy and Johnny checked the man out but he was fine, so they headed back to the station.
“Hmm, looks like the Chief’s here.” Roy observed as they pulled into the bay.
“Yeah.” John flashed Roy a grin. “Better tread lightly.” He slammed the passenger door shut.
Hank came out of the kitchen. “Roy, Johnny, Chief McConikee is here.” He paused. “And Senator Hawkins.”
“Wow, why do we rate a senator?” Roy asked.
“They’re here to see John.”
Johnny looked at his captain’s face and a knot of dread formed in his stomach.
“Why?” Roy asked.
“Just come on in.” Hank looked at Johnny. “Slave mode.”
Even if Hank had not said anything, Johnny would have gone into that mode. Any time anyone outside the Fire Department was here, he stayed in the background as much as possible, keeping his eyes downcast as a proper slave should.
He followed Roy and Hank into the kitchen, seeing Chief McConikee at the table, sitting next to the senator and another man.
McConikee’s bright blue eyes looked worried. Johnny immediately disliked Senator Hawkins’ piercing dark eyes and the way his fingers caressed his silver-headed cane, his dark-streaked white hair fashionably coiffed and his suit expensive. Henry growled low from the couch as he stared at the visitors.
The man next to him was husky, well-dressed, and with narrow brown eyes. Johnny’s stomach clenched further because he recognized the type. He had serviced enough in his lifetime before he joined the Fire Department. This man enjoyed being cruel.
He looked at the Chief and saw sympathy in his eyes. That frightened him even more. He quickly lowered his eyes again.
“Gentlemen, may I introduce Senator Arlen Hawkins and Mr. Scoggins.”
“Albert Scoggins,” said the man.
“Yes, Albert Scoggins.” McConikee sounded faintly irritated.
“May I ask what’s going on?” Roy was in front of Johnny, shielding him. Grateful, Johnny wished that he could fade into the woodwork, but Cap had said that they were here for him.
“Yes, the Government is here to inspect our property,” said Hawkins. “Slave, come here.”
Johnny quickly obeyed, kneeling in front of Scoggins, his head bowed and his wrists crossed behind his back. He remembered to keep his thighs apart.
“Yes.” The silver-headed cane, borrowed by Scoggins from Hawkins, slid down Johnny’s chest to between his legs, pressing hard enough so that Johnny had to bite his lip to suppress a moan. “He’ll do.”
“He’ll do as what?” Roy asked, but Johnny had a sinking feeling that he already knew.
“We are re-claiming this Government slave for Government use,” said Hawkins coldly. “He will come with us.”
“Wait a minute!” Roy protested, Johnny’s heart contracting. “This is a trained firefighter/paramedic. You can’t just take him away!”
“Of course we can. As a Government slave, he is available for Government use. He will be returning to his old occupation of pleasure slave.” If possible, the senator’s voice sounded even colder. “Slave, get your things from your locker. You’re coming with us.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
Johnny hoped that his voice betrayed nothing. His world was crashing down around him with the loss of a job he loved and was proud of, loss of his friendship and camaraderie with his friends here at Station 51 and Rampart, and most of all, loss of the man he loved.
Oh, Roy.
He could not look at his Master and lover as he left the kitchen, passing Marco, Mike and Chet in the bay as he went to the locker room, his vision blurred by tears. He could Henry whine but dared not look back.
He opened his locker, the poster of Smokey Bear smiling at him. He did not bother to take his clothes. He would not be wearing much. He changed from his uniform into jeans and his red shirt, leaving his extra shirt and change of underwear. He left his wallet on the shelf. He hesitated at the pictures of him and Roy and the two of them with the entire A-Shift crew taped to his locker, but there was no place to put them where he was going. His customers would take the pictures away from him just for fun. No, better to let Roy keep them for him.
Not that I’ll ever see him again.
Dimly he heard loud voices in the kitchen. He could hear the distinctive tones of Chet, his nemesis, loudly protesting this move. Johnny smiled.
Good ol’ Chet.
Johnny tied his boots and heard agitated footsteps approaching.
“Johnny.” Roy’s voice was soft despite his being upset.
Johnny finished tying his shoelace and straightened up, looking at his lover. His heart nearly broke as he saw the anguish in those beloved blue eyes.
“Johnny…”
In that moment, Johnny knew that he had to be strong for the both of them. Despite his own tears, he rasped, “I love you, Roy.” Nearly breaking at the expression on his lover’s face. “Please, don’t forget me.”
“Forget you?” Roy choked out. “How could I ever forget you? I love you!”
Johnny grabbed Roy and pulled him close, smoothing down his blond hair. Its softness under his fingers gave him peace and pain at the same time.
“I know,” he whispered. “And that’s what will help me survive in the days ahead.”
He hugged Roy tighter, then pulled back, looking into the face of his Beloved one last time before he turned and walked away, heading for his impatient new Masters in their car.
Roy was left standing in the locker room, tears streaming down his cheeks.
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