Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The thing about panic disorder is that it never feels like it's playing fair. It doesn't wait for an appropriate moment to flare up, nor does it announce itself with some kind of warning. Panic crashes over you, drags you down, and keeps you trapped - flailing, helpless, utterly exhausted. For me, the world is often loud and crowded, every minor ache or irregular heartbeat a harbinger of catastrophe. My hypochondria amplifies each sensation, warping my sense of reality until I'm utterly convinced that this time, tachycardia and muscle twitch will be the ones that do me in.

Flashback , seven months ago:

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"I can't breathe, my whole body feels paralyzed and urm.. urm.. I feel like I'm having a heart attack"

"Sir what's your name and what's your location? "

"Urm.. I'm Eli Hayes, inside one of West Hollywood Gateway's bathrooms near Target. I can't breathe... and my head is spinning."

"My name is Maddie and Eli, sounds to me that you're having a good old fashioned panic attack there. Let me help you out there. I need you to take a seat somewhere first."

"Yes, I'm sitting on the toilet seat now"

"I need you to take slow deep breaths with me alright. Let's inhale together for 4 seconds.... hold your breath there for 4..3...2...1 and exhale through your mouth for 6...5...4...3..2..1. How are you feeling now?"

"Umm Maddie, I feel bloated too now so I only took some shallow breaths there. Is this stomach cancer that I'm having too? I'm terrified, what should I do? I can't make it, I'm too young to die like this."

"Nope Eli, do not self diagnose with that. Alright let me guide you another technique there - it's called visualisation. Think about a place where you feel at peace, be it at a beach or up in the mountains. Incorporate your five senses there."

*Maddie starts singing "The Scientist" by Coldplay*

"Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard. Oh take me back to the start."

"Hey! How do you know it's my favourite comfort song right there? My chest no longer feels tight after singing with you Maddie. Thank you so much!"

"Always my pleasure Eli. Now let's continue on your shopping spree there. Take care and wishing you the best!"

-- END OF 9-1-1 CALL--

The first time it happened, I was at the mall. It was supposed to be a normal, serene afternoon - just me and the crowds, blending in like everyone else. But then, without warning, it hit. It felt like a heart attack there - my chest tightened as my heart pounded erratically, as though it's trying to break free from my ribcage and I could not seem to make it stop. Every time I thought I had control, the fear tightened its grip again, pulling me deeper into the suffocating haze. I felt trapped, isolated in my own body, unable to escape the fear that gripped me.

If it wasn't for Maddie, who knew I would recover from this. I could have done something stupid that may cause harm to the public too.

It took what felt like hours for the panic to subside. When it was over, I gathered the courage to step out of the bathroom stall and back into the mall although I was still trembling, feeling utterly broken.

— End of flashback —

I have tried to explain it to people, to get them to understand that it's not just anxiety or some trivial worry there. It's a persistent, looming dread that makes every day feel like I'm living on edge, with my body going through flight and fight mode every time. But explaining that kind of fear isn't easy, especially to people who've never experienced it. I can see the doubt flicker in their eyes, and in some way, hurts as much as the panic itself.

My family, for one, never quite got it. They have always been...supportive enough, I supposed, but it was clear that they never fully believed in what I was going through. They'd tell me to calm down, to "think positive" and "it's all in your head", to push through it as though I was just being over dramatic or worse, seeking attention. And over time, that ruined the relationship between them and myself.

The last blowup with my family was the tipping point. Without diving into the specifics, let's just say the argument left me feeling that, maybe, it was better to take a step back and start fresh somewhere else - Texas.

I thought that Texas offers open skies and the heat, somewhat similar to LA, might help me to settle down easier and faster. Hopefully, this decision gives me the chance to break free of the endless cycle of panic and self doubt. And even if it didn't, it felt good to be on my own and to venture out.

So I packed my life into a couple of suitcases, jumped on a plane, and found myself in Austin, Texas. Here I am: Elliot "Eli" Hayes, setting both feet on solid ground at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport.

Although there's a gnawing fear that none of this is going to work out well, but if there's one thing I know, is that giving up isn't a phrase in my dictionary. 

Not anymore.

Meet the characters in this story:

- Elliot "Eli" Hayes (Main character)

- Carlos Reyes

- Owen Strand

- Tommy Vega

- T.K. Strand

- Judd Ryder

- Mateo "Probie" Chavez

- Marjan "Firefox" Marwani

- Paul Strickland

- Nancy Gillian

Chapter Text

The evening air is crisp as I step out of my hotel, intending to pick up a quick dinner. Austin feels vibrant tonight, with people bustling about, the streets alive with voices and laughter. It's strange being in a new city - although I had lived in LA for most of my life, it still hasn't quite kicked in that I'm actually here in Austin. I have been here for less than a week, living out of a hotel while I try to find a stable job as well as an apartment. I walk a few blocks until I find a small grocery store, its warm lights inviting in the evening chill.

As I make my way through the aisles, picking out a few necessities, the air suddenly shatters with a loud piercing, relentless sound - the fire alarm! Shoppers are scattering and jostling past each other to reach the exit. I try to move, but the noise and chaos take hold. My heart races, pounding against my chest, my throat tightens, and my hands grip the shopping basket with white-knuckled tension.

I feel the all-too-familiar flood of panic, the heavy pressure on my chest. My breaths are quick, shallow, and I can't seem to move, not even my legs. It's as if I'm rooted to the ground, literally leaving me strand-ed in this overwhelming situation.

The fire roars through the grocery store, a blazing inferno that devours everything in its path. Shelves buckle and collapse, cans clattering to the floor as flames engulf aisle after aisle, turning once-familiar spaces into a nightmarish landscape of charred remains and chaos. Thick, black smoke fills the air, heavy and suffocating, making it hard to see more than a few feet in front of me. I am trapped in a random aisle, the fire crackles and pops, sending pieces of charred debris tumbling to the ground with loud crashes that jolt me, making my heart race even faster.

My vision blurs as I struggle to pull myself together, desperately trying to force myself to get up and I'm still rooted to the ground. The panic is too overwhelming, and all I can do is feel helpless. I wondered, is this going to be how I die? I just relocated to Austin hoping to live a better life, and this is happening to me on my second day here?

As the fire grows nearer, the orange glow cast ominous shadows on the walls around me. I do not know how long I was on the ground there, locked in place, when a calm voice breaks through the noise. "Hey there! You're alright. You're safe."

I glance up and see a tall man in full firefighter gear moving towards me, couldn't see his face as he's wearing a protective helmet. He approaches slowly, kneeling down to my eye level, his voice low and grounding.

"I'm Owen. What's your name?"

"Elliot, you can call me Eli."

"Eli, You're safe now. Here, put on this helmet. I know you're feeling scared and anxious, let's get you out as soon as possible."

I nod, struggling to focus on anything other than his presence. Owen helps me on to my feet and leads me through the heavy smoke, keeping his arm firmly around my shoulders as he guides me toward safety.

As we exit the burning store, the rush of cool, fresh air is like a lifeline, but my chest still feels tight, my breathing shallow and laboured. I realize I'm gripping his arm a bit tighter than necessary. I release him quickly, embarrassed. " Thank you," I manage to say, voice shaky but sincere.

"You're welcome, Eli," he replies, giving me a reassuring smile. My vision blurs slightly, and my body feels heavy as we reach the EMS staging area, where three paramedics come to greet me. One of them is a male, he's younger, with kind eyes and a reassuring smile that somehow reaches me through the fog of panic.

"Hey, I'm T.K, this is Nancy and Tommy. Captain Strand mentioned you needed some help. Glad you're alright." I nod, a bit embarrassed but grateful. "Thanks. I... don't know what happened. just couldn't seem to move."

T.K's expression is understanding, and he exchanges a quick look with Owen. "Don't worry about it," T.K says. "Happens more often you'd think. We've all had those moments out in field."

I'm gently lowered onto a gurney, T.K and Nancy already by my side, their faces focused but calm. Each cough feels like it is scraping against sandpaper, making my chest tighten painfully. The taste of smoke lingers, bitter and acrid.

"Smoke inhalation, with signs of respiratory distress," T.K says to Nancy and Tommy, his voice calm but efficient. "Let's get a baseline set of vitals."

T.K places an oxygen mask over my face, instructing me to take deep, steady breaths. As soon as Nancy clips the pulse oximeter onto my finger, T.K glances at the screen, his eyebrows raising slightly as he reads the numbers aloud. "Heart rate's at 140 beats per minute, he's..." He pauses, clearly about to say something, but the word slips out of both of our mouths at the same time:

"Tachycardic"

T.K looks at me in surprise, a grin spreading across his face. "How did you know that term?"

I shrug, trying to keep a straight face despite the dizziness lingering in my head. "Umm.. I'm a hypochondriac, so...always on Google though, that's how I know the word."

Nancy stifles a laugh, and even Tommy's lips twitch as she gives me an amused look. T.K chuckles, shaking his head. "Well, that explains a lot, young man," he says, shooting me a teasing smile as he adjusts the oxygen mask on my face.

I grin back, a little embarrassed but glad to have lightened the mood. Even in the midst of all this, it's comforting to know I'm in good hands.

"You're doing great, Eli," T.K says, his voice steadying as he checks my blood pressure cuff, listening carefully. "Keep breathing in that oxygen, okay? We're just going to monitor you for a bit."

They work in practiced harmony, their movements fluid as they assess my condition. Tommy listens to my lung sounds with her stethoscope, her face tightening slightly. "I'm hearing some wheezing, probably due to bronchospasm from the smoke exposure. Let's start him on a bronchodilator."

She retrieves a nebulizer mask, connecting it to a small machine that emits a low hum as it begins to deliver albuterol . The medication creates a cool mist, filling my lungs with each breath and helping to open my airways. Slowly, the constriction in my chest eases, and I can breathe a little more deeply.

T.K monitors my oxygen saturation, and after a few minutes, the numbers on the monitor begin to climb back to safer levels. "O2 saturation's improving. Looking good. Let's get you to a hospital now so that they can monitor you okay?" as he gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. I nod sincerely.

It's a relief to see T.K's, Nancy's and Tommy's faces close by, their calm presence makes it easier to focus on slowing my breaths and calming my racing heart.

After a long night at the hospital, the doctors confirm that I am fine, though I have inhaled a bit of smoke during the incident. They release me early the next morning, and I go back to my hotel, hoping to shake off the entire experience. I'm exhausted and overwhelmed, and I try to put the incident behind me.

In the days after the fire incident, I could not stop thinking about Owen and the paramedics who saved my life, the calm and confidence they had shown. It stirred something in me. I wanted to be that steady presence for others, too, to make a difference in some way.

Suddenly, there's a knock on my hotel room door. I open it, surprised to see Captain Strand standing there, a takeout bag in hand. Beside him is a younger man with warm brown eyes, dark hair, and an easygoing smile that immediately puts me at ease.

He looks familiar...

"Hey Eli," Owen says, offering a friendly smile. "I hope you don't mind us stopping by. We wanted to check in on you."

"Oh, no, of course not," I reply, still surprised. "Thank...thank you from the bottom of my heart."

Owen shakes his head. "After a scare like that, we thought a bit of company might help. This is my son, T.K. Didn't get to share more of our father-son relationship the other day!" T.K nods, holding up the bag with a grin.

"We brought food from one of my favorite places in the area," T.K says. "You should definitely try it."

I invite them in, feeling a bit out of place but grateful. As they unpack the food, I can't help but wonder how they knew where I was staying.

"We checked with the hospital records," Owen explains when I ask with a reassuring smile.  "Just wanted to make sure. you were alright."

I smiled, still processing how much kindness these people, who barely even know me, have shown. We sit around the small table in my hotel room, and they fill the space with stories of the firehouse and their experiences in Austin.

As we talk, I find myself opening up about my own background. I mention about my time in the military as a security officer, something I do not usually share. I tell them about the discipline and structure I found there, the sense of purpose.

But I did not mention why I left or how lost I have felt since leaving my family in Los Angeles. Part of me feels that maybe, in some way, Owen and T.K might understand.

"Why Austin, Texas?" T.K asks, his tone genuinely curious.

"Honestly, I'm not sure," I reply, laughing a bit at my own lack of direction. "I thought a fresh start might help, but... I guess I'm still figuring that part out."

There was a long pause, and I can tell they were both waiting for me to elaborate. It's not easy to talk about the part of my life that pushed me to leave, but something about their kindness, their patience, feels like a safe space for me to share.

I take a deep breath, looking between Owen and T.K. "I've had...some struggles," I admit. "I was diagnosed with panic disorder a while ago. I never really knew how to talk about it, but it's been hard to live with it. Sometimes, I can't control it. It's like, I'll be fine one minute, and then the next, I'm overwhelmed. My family didn't really know how to deal with me after that. I was constantly shrugged off by them whenever I brought up the topic of anxiety and panic attacks... I ended up leaving them in L.A hoping to start fresh here in Texas. Weather's here good, everyone's amazing."

T.K nods thoughtfully, and for the first time, I see a flicker of understanding in his eyes. It's comforting, almost, to know that someone else gets it. "I get it," T.K says softly, his voice steady. "I mean, I don't know what's like to have panic attacks, but... I get the feeling of wanting to run. Of wanting to leave everything behind."

I look at him, confused, "What do you mean?"

T.K looks at Owen, "Dad, may I?" Owen nods with approval.

T.K shifts in his seat, the light from the hotel room casting shadows on his face. He looks down for a moment, takes a deep breath before speaking again, his voice low but in a steady manner.

"Not everyone knows this, but I... I was living in New York, working as a firefighter alongside my dad. Things were good for a while, but then I got caught up in something I couldn't control. I... I OD'd. Took too many pills that night, thought I could handle it, and I ended up in the hospital. It was a wake-up call. After that, I moved here to Austin together with my dad. Fresh start, you know? I had to change everything. My whole life was spiralling out of control, and I needed to escape." He pauses, looking up at me, his eyes heavy with the weight of the admission. "But leaving doesn't fix the past. I've had to face it, one day at a time. And some days are easier than others."

I remain quiet for a moment, processing what he had said. I could not imagine it must have been like for him, but I could feel the pain in his voice. It's raw, for real. it's hard to admit when you have fallen, especially when everyone expects you to be strong .

"I guess we're both here for the same reason," I say finally, trying to lighten the moment. "Trying to outrun our pasts. But I don't think we're really running anymore, are we?"

T.K gives a half-smile, his eyes still clouded with that inner struggle. "No, I guess not. I think we're just trying to figure out how to live with it, one step at a time. "

Owen watches the exchange between us quietly, a knowing look on his face. He clears his throat and speaks up after a moment. "It's not easy, moving forward with things like panic attacks or addiction in your past. But you don't have to do it alone," he says, his tone steady, but carrying an unspoken promise of support there.

"The firehouse is a family, Eli. You don't have to be a firefighter or a paramedic to be part of it. And if you ever feel like you're ready, there's always a place for you."

I look at Owen, then at T.K. There's something comforting in the way Owen speaks, like he truly believes in second chances. And T.K - his struggle is still fresh - but he's still here, still fighting, still trying to help others. Maybe it's about accepting it, learning from it, and finding a way to keep moving forward despite it.

Their offer hangs in the air, and I feel both empowered and uncertain. The idea of joining something like the 126 is appealing, but doubt seeps in just as quickly. I'm no firefighter; I wouldn't know the first thing about helping in an emergency. What could I possibly offer here?

"Thanks," I replied, feeling the weight of my own hesitation. "I...I'm not sure I'd be a good fit. I mean, I have zero experience in anything related to firefighting. My experience is mostly security-based."

Owen smiles, undeterred by my doubts. "Experience isn't everything. Sometimes, all you need is the willingness to try."

After they leave, I think over Owen's words for the rest of the evening. The next day, curiosity gets the better of me, and I decided to pay a visit to Station 126. The thought alone is nerve-wracking. Still, something draws me to this place, even if I'm not sure I belong there.

When I arrived, T.K is the first to spot to me. He greets me with a wide smile, his warmth making the intimidating firehouse feel a bit more welcoming. He shows me around, introducing me to the rest of the crew. I meet Marjan, Mateo, Judd, Paul, Tommy and Nancy - all of whom greet me like I'm an old friend. Their easy camaraderie and acceptance make it feel as though I've stumbled into some rare space, a family.

In the middle of the introductions, a tall man in a neatly pressed police uniform walks in, and T.K waves him over. "Eli, this is Carlos. He's from the Austin Police Department, and a close friend of ours."

Carlos smiles, shaking my hand with a firm grip. His dark, steady gaze and sharp features radiate confidence, but there's a warmth in his smile that makes him approachable. He has a calmness about him that feels reassuring, a quiet strength that reminds me of Captain Strand.

"Nice to meet you, Eli," Carlos says. "I heard you had a bit of an adventure the other day."

I chuckled slightly, feeling my face warm up. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that."

He chuckles, his tone easygoing. "Well, you're in good hands here. The126 firehouse tends to attract interesting people."

Mateo raised an eyebrow as he folds his arms with a playful smirk. "Wait, hold up. 'Interesting people'? What's that supposed to mean, Carlos?" he teased.

Marjan chimes in, leaning against the table with a mischievous grin. "Yeah, Carlos, elaborate. Are we talking 'interesting' as in quirky and fun, or 'interesting' as in... questionable decisions and weird habits?"

Carlos chuckles, holding up his hands in surrender. "Hey, ¡tranquilo! Don't twist my words," he said, his tone light but defensive. "I meant it as a compliment. Mostly ."

"Mostly?" Mateo repeated, feigning offense as he nudges Carlos. "So what, you think we're just a bunch of weirdos?"

Carlos laughs harder now, shaking his head. "No! Well, maybe a little . But it's endearing. You've got Mateo here, who can somehow make even the simplest task turn into a dramatic adventure."

"That's called being thorough," Mateo shot back, grinning. "It's a gift."

"And Marjan," Carlos continued, turning to her with a smirk, "who manages to be the most badass person in any room while also dragging us all into her social media escapades, my tía loves you."

Marjan gasped in mock outrage. "Excuse me, those 'escapades' are marketing gold. You're welcome for the 126's growing fanbase, by the way."

Carlos shook his head, a fond smile on his face. "See? That's what I mean. You're all... unique. But it's what makes this firehouse feel like home. You bring this energy, this sense of family, that makes it impossible not to love being here."

Mateo pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. "Aw, Carlos, that was beautiful. Still doesn't excuse calling us weird, though."

Marjan clapped him on the shoulder, laughing. "I'll take 'interesting' over boring any day."

Carlos smiled, his gaze softening as he looked at them. "Well, boring was never in the cards for any of you. And honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way."

We talked for a while, and I get the sense that Carlos, like the others, genuinely cares. I cannot help but feel drawn to their world, this world of people who put themselves on the line for others. But as the day winds down, doubt creeps back in.

Could I really belong here?

Then T.K, notices my quietness, walks over and gives my shoulders a friendly pat. "You know, not everyone in this building fights fires. There's more to it than that."

I nod, wondering if I could find a place here after all. As we're chatting, Owen approaches, a knowing look on his face. "You know," he begins, "Austin's in need of 911 dispatchers. It's a different kind of emergency response, but crucial to everything we do here. You might find it's a good way to be involved without having to be on the front lines."

The idea hits me like a spark of clarity. I think back to my time in the military as a security officer, coordinating responses, thinking on my feet. Maybe, just maybe, dispatching could be a way to use that experience in a way that actually helps people.

"Think about it," Owen says. "You'd be a part of the team, supporting us in your own way."

The possibility fills me with a tentative hope, a sense that I could find purpose here. It's terrifying, the thought of stepping into a new role, but also exciting.

As I leave the 126 firehouse that evening, I feel a small glimmer of direction. Maybe I'm not meant to fight fires or patrol the streets, but I could be part of this family in my own way - my voice, my training, help guide them from a distance. Maybe, with the 126 at my back, I can finally start finding my place in Austin.

— end of chapter 1 —

Chapter Text

After that fire and my encounter with Captain Strand and T.K, something shifted in me. Their support had anchored me during one of my hardest days. I still struggled with my regular panic attacks, but I felt less isolated, like I was not the only one fighting to keep fear at bay.

When I applied for the 9-1-1 dispatcher position, I was unsure what I was getting myself into. I had military experience, but 9-1-1 dispatch was an entirely different world. The interview process was intense. 

On interview day, my nerves kicked in as I sat in the dispatch center waiting room. The buzz of activity in the next room was intense, with dispatchers handling calls as if they were conducting some kind of a band performance. I had not felt so nervous since my previous job interview back in L.A. 

A woman with sharp, intelligent eyes finally appeared and called my name. " Elliot Hayes? " 

I stood and followed her into a small room with two others waiting. Sue Blevins, the lead supervisor, sat across from me, her expression calm but inquisitive. Beside her was Josh Russo, a veteran dispatcher with a calm and assessing gaze. 

They went through the usual questions - my background, strengths, and why I wanted to become a dispatcher. I told them about my military experience, explaining how I had worked as a security officer and learned to stay calm in chaotic situations. Josh gave a slight nod of approval. 

But then Sue leaned forward, her gaze sharp. "What about stress? "she asked. 

"This job isn't about answering calls. Sometimes it's life or death, and people will be depending on you. How do you handle stress? "

I felt a pang of doubt, wondering if I'd be able to stay composed in a crisis. I took a deep breath, reminded of how I'd managed to ground myself after the fire encounter. "I...I actually struggled with panic disorder." I said, feeling vulnerable. " But throughout the panic attacks along with other symptoms that wreck my body, I've learned how to ground myself, to stay calm when they come. In this role, I know that my focus could make all the difference ." 

They exchanged a look, one I honestly couldn't quite comprehend. But when I left the room, I felt that I had been heard, not judged.  

A week later, I got the call that I had been hired, and suddenly, everything felt real . 

My first day felt like I was stepping into a whirlwind. The room was buzzing with energy, the rapid fire calls and alerts creating a rhythm I was yet to be in tune with. Josh, the veteran dispatcher, gave me a quick tour of the console - the codes, quick keys, and the setup for managing calls. 

"Today, you'll be shadowing," he said, "but we're understaffed, so you may be jumping in sooner than later." 

I shadowed Grace, another veteran dispatcher who handled every call with unwavering calm. She talked a frantic caller through a minor car accident, gathering critical details and dispatching responders all without breaking her pace. I envied her composure. She taught me how to dispatch police, fire and EMS appropriately as well as protocols that dispatchers have to follow during their line of duty. 

By the afternoon, Josh tapped my shoulder, guided me towards my own station. "Alright, Elliot. Your turn. Just breathe, keep calm and remember - you're their lifeline." 

Taking a deep breath, I put on my headset, forcing myself to focus. 

[9-1-1 call recording officially begins]

Incident #1: House on fire

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" I asked, willing my voice to stay steady. 

A shaky voice came through, a woman's words filled with panic. "There's...there's smoke everywhere. I think the fire is too close."

I pulled up the maps on my screen and saw the fires moving across the nearby hills. "Ma'am, can you tell me your exact location?" 

"We're at the edge of 608 Maple Hill Park," she stammered. "The fire's coming in fast!" 

I relayed the details to the 126 firehouse unit . "126, this is dispatch. We have a family trapped near 608 Maple Hill Park. Sending coordinates now." 

I could hear Owen's voice crackling through the line. "Copy that, we're en route."

"Ma'am, help is on the way," I reassured her, my heart pounding. I can hear the faint crackling of fire through the phone, and I feel my own panic rising. "Are there any windows or a back door that might be accessible?"

"No...we tried. The smoke..." she chokes out, coughing.

I send an update to the 126 team: "126, the family is located on the second floor, smoke is starting to fill the ground level. Priority on immediate extraction."

"Copy that, dispatch"

I'm sitting at my desk, headset over my ears, tapping my fingers nervously as I wait for updates. The 911 call came from a frantic mother, her voice choked with fear as she explained that her family members were trapped in their burning home. This would be my first major call, and I could feel the weight of it. I try to take deep breaths to keep my nerves in check, but a part of me is spiralling, second guessing if I relayed every instruction accurately to the team. 

My radio crackles, and Captain Strand's calm, authoritative voice fills my ears. " Alright 126, we're going in. I need everyone to stay alert. Mateo, you'll take the west side with Judd and Paul. Marjan, you're with me on the south side. We'll search the ground floor first. Be ready to pivot if the fire shifts " he commands, voice steady and unwavering, reminding why he's the one leading them. 

Out on the scene, the fire rages, thick smoke billowing from every window, flames licking at the structure as if they're hungry to consume it whole. Owen's team moves in, fearless and focused, braving the scorching heat and smoke as they make their way through the front door, Mateo, Paul and Judd breaking off to check the west rooms. Every second stretches painfully as I listen to their progress over the radio. 

The team's voices come in between breaths, alerting Captain Strand of possible obstacles they encounter as they clear room after room. Judd's voice cuts through the radio. "Cap, we've got visibility on the mother and son in the back bedroom. Need extraction ASAP. Smoke's getting thick." 

"Copy that, Judd. Stay low and keep them calm. Marjan, start the evacuation line to the front ," Owen instructs with the firm calmness that I'm learning is his trademark. 

Meanwhile, Tommy, Nancy and T.K stood by the field outside the burning house, ready with a stretcher and oxygen. T.K's eyes scan the scene briefly, preparing his team upon evacuation of the victims. 

A couple of minutes later, Judd's voice cuts in again, strained but triumphant. "Cap, we're coming out. Family's secured. We'll be out in sixty seconds.' I let out a shaky breath, thankful but still unable to relax until I know they're all safe and clear. 

Outside, the family stumbles into the fresh air, coughing and covered in ash, as T.K, Tommy and Nancy rush forward. Nancy moves in first, immediately securing the pulse oximeter on the mother's finger to check her oxygen saturation level, while T.K places a mask over face. "Nice deep breaths Ma'am," he says calmly, trying to reassure her. 

Tommy is already at the young boy's side, taking his vitals efficiently. "Get the IV kit ready.' she instructs, knowing that the boy will need fluids to stabilize him after the smoke inhalation. 

"Captain Strand," Tommy calls, "Both the mother and the boy needs to be taken in for further monitoring and oxygen therapy. We've got them stabilized for now." Owen nods in acknowledgement as he radios in for another ambulance to transport them to the hospital. 

I'm listening to everything, each update and command, visibly shaken. It all happened so fast. I'm barely getting used to Austin, still hunting for an apartment and now here I am, listening to the team kick ass and save lives right in front of me. 

The radio crackles one more time, and Owen's voice comes through. " Good work everyone. Dispatch, you still there? "

Clearing my throat, i answer, " Yes, Captain. Everyone's accounted for, then ?" 

"Affirmative. Great work there. Hey your voice sounds familiar to me. Eli, if this is you, didn't expect to hear you on the line, buddy !"

I chuckled nervously. "Yes, Captain Strand, just started today."

"Good to have you here, " Owen replied warmly. "You're part of the family now ."

Josh gave me a thumbs up, and for the first time, I felt like I could actually do this. 

Just as I thought I was getting into the groove, a call came through that made my stomach drop. 

[9-1-1 call recording officially begins]

Incident #2: Lost Child in the Woods

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" I asked as I took a deep breath. 

"My son is lost in the woods! We were camping, and... and he ran off. The fire's getting closer!" I could hear her voice high-pitched and in the state of shock. 

"Ma'am, please stay calm," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. "Can you give me your location? Any landmarks nearby that you can pinpoint for me?"

After a few tense seconds, she gave me a general area, but without the exact location she's at. My mind was racing as I called out for 126 through my radio. 

"126, this is Dispatch, I've got a missing child near the western side of the state park. Fire's approaching fast, and the mother's with me on the line," I relayed, hearing the tremble in my own voice. 

"Copy that, Dispatch," Owen replied. I hesitated for a split second, then quickly realized that I needed additional help. I switched channels to dispatch the police. "Any nearby Austin PD units, we need assistance with a lost child in the state park near the wildfire perimeter. Coordinates are being sent to your devices." 

"Dispatch, this is 363-H-20, Officer Reyes here," came Carlos' voice almost immediately. "I'm close by and en route."  

Relieved to have him on board, I updated Captain Strand on the additional support. "126, this is Dispatch once again. Just to update you that 363-H-20 is joining in from a separate path."  

" Officer Reyes, I'm forwarding the mother's contact details in case you need any extra info." Carlos' response was quick. "Copy that, Dispatch. I'll approach from the south and keep you posted."

With the call still connected, I tried to comfort the mother. "Ma'am, our teams are on their way. They'll find him." She was quiet for a moment, then said, her voice fragile, "Thank...thank you. Please...Please, find my boy."  

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me, my heart was racing as I tracked everyone's movements on the dispatch board. Every few seconds, a status update came through. Marjan had found fresh tracks on the eastern trail. Mateo had visibility on some discarded candy wrappers, likely dropped by the child. 

Then, Carlos' voice echoed through. "Approaching the ridge, no sign of the boy yet. The smoke's getting thicker out here. Captain Strand, you seeing anything on your end?"  

Captain Strand's came in next, sounding slightly strained but still calm. "Negative, Officer Reyes. Be ready to change course if we get a better lead."  

Suddenly, Judd's voice cut in, tense but clear. "Wait Cap, I think I've got him! West side, near the ravine! He's coughing, possibly due to smoke inhalation." 

My heart surged with relief, but I stayed focused, ready to relay updates. "126, Judd has located the child. Be advised, possible smoke inhalation. EMS team, converge on Judd's location if you're able to." 

Through the headset, I could hear the soft, reassuring words that Tommy and her team were saying to the boy. They quickly assessed the boy's condition. 

I relayed the information back to the mother, her sob of relief filling my ear. "Ma'am, they found him. He's safe, and they're taking good care of him. He'll be okay." 

She began thanking me profusely, her voice breaking, and I could feel tears streaming down my eyes as I choked out a quiet, "You're welcome." 

Just then, Captain Strand's voice came back, steady and strong. "Good work team. Let's get the boy back to his mom. Dispatch, keep us updated on the traffic around the perimeter - we don't want to get delayed there." 

I quickly checked for any possible road obstructions and responded, "All clear, Captain. You have a direct path." 

I stayed on the line until they were safely out. Officer Reyes stayed behind to handle the fire's perimeter, radioing in more units for backup as the 126 got the child back to his mother. 

As the call ended, I leaned back in my chair, wiping away the tears I had not realized that were streaming down my eyes. I heaved a sigh of relief. Something about hearing that mother's relief,  knowing I had been part of the rescue, even from behind a headset and countless computer screens  felt like I have made the absolute right decision to join Austin's 911 dispatch. Frankly, it wasn't really the role I had expected to find myself in, but today, it felt like exactly where I was supposed to be. 

After a long shift, I headed back to my hotel room, exhausted but satisfied. I knew I had a long way to go to really settle well into Austin and find a place of my own. Part of me still hesitated, wondering if moving was the right choice, but I was starting to feel like I had found my purpose here. 

The very next day, after my shift, I found a couple of apartment listings and started making calls. Most were either out of my budget or didn't feel quite right. As I slumped in my chair in my hotel room, my phone buzzed. It was Owen, inviting me over to the firehouse. 

When I arrived, Owen greeted me with a smile. " Eli, you did incredible work yesterday! i know it's just your first day, but you're a natural there !" 

"Ummm...thanks !" I replied, feeling a mix of pride and nerves." Honestly, I wasn't sure I could handle it. But knowing you guys were on the other end... it helped ." 

Owen pats me on the shoulder. "You're not alone here, alright ?"

T.K appeared, a warm smile on his face. "Carlos and I were just talking about you, actually. Couldn't believe it when we heard your voice over the radio."

Owen grinned, adding, " You know, I've got a spare room in my apartment. T.K's moved out, he's living with Carlos now. If you're interested, it'd be great to have a roommate ." 

I paused, surprised. " Wait...T.K, you and Carlos are..." 

T.K laughed and smiled. "Married. Yep." 

"Wow ," I said, genuinely happy for them. "That's amazing! Congratulations."

That evening, after Owen and I finished chatting briefly about what living together might look like, there was knock at my hotel room door. I excused myself and went to answer it, only to be met by a stranger wearing a black hoodie with a solemn look on his face. 

He handed me a letter with its edges worn as if it had traveled far. "This is for you ," he said before turning and walking away without another word. 

I stared at the letter, my heart racing, feeling an inexplicable sense of fear and dread. The handwriting on the envelope was eerily familiar. 

"Eli, what's inside the envelope and who's the guy that delivered it to you ?" Owen asked, his face looking dazed and puzzled. 

"I...don't know..."

Chapter Text

The letter came in the most unremarkable way. 

The envelope was blank - no return address, no markings. Just my name in a single line of familiar, unsettlingly tidy handwriting. Inside, a single sheet of paper was folded with the same precise neatness. As I unfolded it, my pulse quickened and a chill ran down my spine. The handwriting was familiar—eerily like my own. There was no signature, no further details, just the ominous sentence and the date. It felt personal, as if this letter was meant to reach a part of me that was supposed to understand it right away.

In the center of the page, written with that unnervingly precise hand, were only a few words: 

"The clock strikes on November 17."  

No explanations. No context. Just that cryptic sentence and a date. I could feel something creeping up my spine, an instinctive sense of dread that didn't really make sense. The words seemed to almost hover on the page, like they were watching me. The letter felt like a warning whispered from some dark place, a reminder of something inevitable yet unseen.  

As I shoved it into the drawer beside my bed, a voice startled me. Owen stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Hey, you alright? What's that?" he asked, raising his head towards the drawer where I'd hastily shoved the letter. 

I forced a small, casual smile, hoping he didn't notice the tension in my shoulders. " Oh, it's just... a letter from my old penpal, you know how it is. Certainly wasn't expecting him to send me a letter at this timing!"  

Owen's eyebrows lifted slightly, and he tilted his head, clearly not fully convinced. "It looked like something important. You sure you're okay?" 

"Yeah, yeah, totally," I replied, laughing a little too quickly there. "I think I just got myself worked up over nothing. That's how my anxiety works! Getting stressed over small things like this. Really, it's fine." 

He crossed his arms, studying me with a careful scrutiny. "Just know, if anything's weighing on you, you don't have to keep it to yourself and I mean that." 

He gave my shoulder a reassuring pat before heading out, but the second he left, my gaze drifted back to the drawer.

I swallowed, feeling a pang of guilt. Owen had been nothing but supportive, and here I was, hiding things from him. But how could I explain a letter that looked like I'd written it myself, one with a cryptic date hanging over my head like a dark cloud?

Each night, I unfolded it, re-reading the sentence and wondering what does the date actually symbolize. I didn't know whether to take it as a warning or a terrible prank, but it gripped me. A cold, creeping dread began to shape my days, keeping me at a distance from everyone I worked with. I stopped accepting invitations, even from Owen, who'd invited me multiple times to stay at his apartment. The thought of being around them while that warning loomed over me was too unbearable. 

As the days wore on, the letter's threat continue to linger inside my brain, souring every interaction, making me feel like I was living a lie. 

"You sure you don't want to move in? I know you're still getting your bearings, and the team's always around if you need anything," Owen said, his brows knitted with concern. 

I hesitated, "Thanks, Owen, I really appreciate it. But...I... just need some time for myself. I don't want to intrude ." 

I wanted to tell someone, but what would I even say? Every time I left the urge to confide, I would remember the letter's words. 

"November 17th," that could mean anything, right? Maybe it's just the day someone's delivering me a pizza . Or hey, maybe it's from Carlos and T.K.. Probably trying to invite me to their wedding. Wait no! They were already married based on what T.K. told me the other day. 

And suddenly, my mind's crafted a full list of terrible scenarios: missed deadlines, hidden conspiracies, or worst of all... *a dentist appointment.* ( totally hate my wisdom tooth surgery experience YIKES ) 

November 17 arrived too quickly. The weather report droned on in the background as I sat on the edge of my bed, eyes fixed on the television screen but mind miles away. 

The anchor's voice was calm, almost cheerful. "Today, we're looking at partly cloudy skies, high in the mid 80s, and a mild breeze coming in from the west. Nothing out of the ordinary."

" Nothing out of the ordinary " - ha ha ha funny, that. The day was bright and deceptively calm, as if nature itself hadn't gotten the memo about the ominous date looming in the back of my mind. But to me, the stillness of the weather felt eerie, like the world was holding its breath there. 

I could not tell if this day would be different, yet every call that came in brought me a sick sense of anticipation. When I received a frantic call from a son whose father was trapped in a freak accident, the dread clawed its way back. 

[9-1-1 call recording officially begins]

Incident #1: Male pinned under a car

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" I asked, my voice steady despite the sudden dread in my chest. 

"It's my father," the boy cried, his words choked with panic. "He was working under his car, and the jack slipped. The car...it's... he's pinned underneath it. He's not moving!"  

The urgency in his voice sharpened my focus. "Hey buddy, please stay calm. Help is on the way. Can you tell me exactly where you are?" 

After getting the location, I dispatched the 126 team with specific details, my fingers flying across the keyboard. "126, this is Dispatch. Reported accident, victim trapped under a car. Address is near 403 . East Riverside Drive. Possible critical injuries." 

Owen responded quickly, his voice composed and clear. "Copy that Dispatch. ETA five minutes. Captain Vega and team, please be prepared!"

A few moments later, Carlos's voice cracked through as he volunteered to assist. "Dispatch, this is 363-H-20 en route. I'll handle crowd control when I arrive." 

"Thanks, Sir," I said, my relief flooding through. 

The minutes dragged on as I listened to the team coordinate at the scene, my heart racing with each update. 

"Dispatch, we're on site, " came Captain Strand's voice, now more serious and intense.

"Sir! Sir! Can you hear me?"

"Victim is unresponsive. Possible severe internal injuries and heavy bleeding. T.K., prepare to run an IV and get the transfusion set up. Nancy, I need you to monitor his vitals closely," Captain Vega instructed as she ran back to the ambulance to grab the trauma kit. 

" Copy Cap," T.K. replied, his voice composed but strained with urgency. "He's got multiple lacerations on the torso. BP is dropping fast."  

"Pulse is weak, but we're getting him on fluids now," T.K.'s voice came through, his professionalism steady despite the tension. "We need blood transfusions right away - Nancy, hang the O negative, and monitor oxygen levels." 

"Already on it," Nancy said. "He's got severe thoracic trauma. Might have broken ribs puncturing the lung - Cap, I need your help to start preparing a chest depression kit." 

The line fell silent. I squeezed my eyes shut, unwilling to accept what I was hearing. However, my mind, an overactive engine, grabbed onto the most recent piece of medical advice absorbed in the far reaches of my hypochondriacal research. Pneumothorax. (Collapsed lung) 

In the background, I heard Officer Reyes handling the growing crowd, his voice firm but calm. "Back up, everyone. Let the team do their job."

Something deep inside me went on alert, and my hands were already flying across the keyboard again. "Captain Vega, this is Dispatch, since you're dealing with thoracic trauma, just... make sure the airway's clear. We don't want fluids entering the lungs, alright? Keep in mind with the chest decompression."

There was a slight pause before I heard Captain Vega's voice come through, but there was a note of hesitation. "Uh... Dispatch, it's a good call, but we're working fast to get fluids in. I'll double-check the airway. Thanks for the heads up."

"Yeah, good. Keep it clear," I urged, almost instinctively, despite knowing they had it under control. 

A few minutes later, Captain Vega's voice came through, grim and final. "Dispatch...We're working our very best here but we're losing him. His BP is tanking." 

I stayed silent, listening intently, feeling the weight of the moment bear down. This was life or death, a split second chance at survival. But somewhere in the back of my mind, that note - the words from the letter echoed louder and louder. 

Captain Vega's voice came through again, tense and urgent. "He's coding, starting compressions! Nancy, prep the Lifepak, T.K., check for pulse." 

"Still nothing," Nancy replied, her tone full of sorrow. "Cap, he's gone." 

I heard it. 

The unmistakable, piercing sound - the flatline. 

I felt my heart skip a beat, and for a moment, everything else disappeared. The world outside the walls of the dispatch center seemed to freeze as the flatline sound reverberated in my mind. "He's gone," I whispered under my breath, though the words weren't meant to be heard. 

Captain Strand's voice came in, strained, quieter now. "Dispatch... we've lost him." 

The reality of the situation pressed down on me like a heavy fog. Someone was gone. Someone was dead. 

" Copy that, 126. He's gone."  

And then, in the distance, I heard something that made my stomach twist more - something I could not ignore. 

A voice. The son's voice. 

"Dad! Daddd!" The scream cut through the tension like a knife. It was desperate. A son calling out for his father, unaware that he had already slipped away. 

"Dad! Please!" 

Each desperate cry felt like a punch to the gut. A father, lost forever. A son left in the silence, grasping for answers. The crackling voices of the EMS team filled the air, but they faded into the background, drowned out by the raw, heartbreaking cries of the son. 

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, trying to push back the knot that was rising in my throat. A child had just lost his father... and I had been a part of it. 

The events of the day had unfolded with cruel precision, almost as if I had been leading up to this moment without even realizing it. I thought back to that cryptic, unnerving message. It hadn't provided any other details, just that one haunting line. The clock strikes on November 17 - what had it meant? Had it always been a warning? 

Now, sitting here in front of my desk, I couldn't escape the grim certainty that this - THIS accident , this death , this family torn apart - was what the letter had been trying to tell me from the beginning. 

The clock had struck. Someone had died. 

And the worst part was, I still had no idea who or what - was pulling the strings. The rest of the shift passed in a haze. i went though the motions, responding to calls, but the guilt wouldn't fade. 

That night, there was a knock on my hotel room door. I hesitated, not ready to face anyone, but when I opened the door, Carlos stood there, his expression tensed. 

"Officer Reyes?" I asked, my voice tinged with worry. 

" Eli, you can just call me Carlos. Can I come in?" 

I nodded and stepped aside to let him in, my heart already pounding as the door clicked shut. 

"Hey," he said softly. "I have some news. I thought you'd want to hear it from me." 

"What's going on?" I sat down on the edge of the bed, bracing myself. 

Carlos looked down, taking a deep breath before he spoke. "Your parents filed a missing person's report on you with the LAPD. I... I thought I'd tell you before you hear it from someone else." 

I gazed at him, shock and confusion flooding my thoughts. My parents were worried about me - enough to report me as missing. I hadn't even realized how distant I'd become from my parents since relocating to Texas. 

"I...I don't know," I murmured, the news pressing down hard on me. I had been so focused on starting a fresh life here, finding an apartment, getting a stable job, coping with my panic attacks and moving on from my family's harsh expectations on me.

Carlos's face softened as he across from me. "Look, Eli. If you don't want to go back to L.A,. I get it. But you have to let your family know you're okay. And... if there's something going on, if there's something you need help with, just tell me." 

Having just broken the news that my parents in L.A. had filed a missing person's report on me, I felt a strange mix of anger, frustration, and fear tightening in my chest. The silence hung in the room as I tried to process what he'd just said. I'd left L.A. to escape from my parents' suffocating expectations and the constant pressure to fit into a version of me they preferred. Returning was out of the question. 

"I... I can't go back," I finally managed to reply, voice filled with emotion. "They don't... they never really accepted me. Not after my diagnosis with panic disorder. It's like they couldn't see me as the same person anymore, just someone who'd never meet their standards and is a let down in the family." 

Carlos looked at me with genuine understanding. "That must be incredibly hard for you, " he said softly. "I had my own struggles with acceptance, you know? Coming out to my parents... it wasn't easy. There were moments where I thought I'd lose them forever."

I glanced up at him, encouraged by his honesty. "How did you handle it?" 

"It was messy, and it took time," he admitted, his tone thoughtful. "But eventually, they understood that I'm still their son. It was never about changing for them, though it took them a while to realize that. I had to stand my ground and accept myself first." 

His words struck a chord, resonating with the battle I'd been fighting to accept my own mental health and redefine who I was outside of my parents' approval. "I guess I've been trying to find that acceptance on my own," I replied, the weight of my isolation suddenly feeling even heavier. 

Carlos gave a nod, as if he understood exactly what I was trying to say. "You're not alone in that struggle, Eli." 

For the first time since I arrived in Austin, I felt the tension in my chest ease just a bit. I was unsure where I was headed, but knowing someone had been through something similar gave me a sense of strength I had yet to feel in a while. 

"Thank you, Officer Reyes."

Chapter Text

The incident on November 17th still hung over me, like a cloud I could not shake. The events of that day - the letter, the victim, missing person report - felt like they had shaken something inside me loose, leaving only hollow fragments of who I used to be.

The echo of that last conversation with Carlos lingered in my mind - when he sat me down and told me about the missing person report that my parents had filed. That was only the beginning of the unraveling. My parents, people who had been strangers to my struggles and haunted by my decision to leave home, were out there, searching for me. Knowing they were looking for me left me shaken, torn between anger and guilt.

But Carlos had stayed steady through it all, guiding me through the process of contacting the APD and LAPD, trying to calm me as the waves of anger, shame, and a strange, lingering sadness crashed over me. It was like something had awakened, a need for answers that I was not ready to face.

That night, after Carlos left my hotel, I tried to distract myself, to ground myself in the small, familiar details of my hotel room - the steady hum of the air conditioning, the monotonous colors of the furniture, the dull glow from the streetlights outside. I really needed to keep myself together and stay grounded. But that attempt shattered when the hotel receptionist appeared at my door, her expression unreadable as she held out a small white envelope.

"Delivery for you, sir," she said with a nod, then turned and disappeared back down the hallway.

Another letter.

My hands trembled slightly as I tore open the envelope, a cold dread building in the pit of my stomach. Inside was a single word, written in familiar, neat handwriting: family .

The word left me staring in confusion, as if it were some kind of riddle I was supposed to solve again. Why family? Is this some kind of a warning again? The word left like a punch to the gut, a reminder of something I could not ignore or run from. I did not understand it.

I tucked the letter away in my hotel drawer, together with the first letter I received couple of days ago. Whatever it is, I'll deal with it later. For now, i just needed some rest.

The next morning, my phone buzzed with a message from Carlos, inviting me to meet him at the police department. 

--

"We've got a plan in motion, Eli," Carlos said, as he sat down across from me, his eyes serious. "LAPD is involved. The situation's escalated. Your parents are worried sick. We're going to help you connect with them."

I froze. The thought of LAPD stepping in, reaching out to my parents, made me feel trapped. "Officer Reyes, I don't want to deal with this right now," I said, my voice a little too sharp. I stood up, pacing the small room, my pulse racing. "They don't understand, and I don't know if I can handle it. I can't just..."

"Eli," Carlos interrupted gently, "I'm not saying you have to make amends right now. But I can't just let your parents keep worrying about you, either. Remember the conversation I had with you last night? It takes time, one step at a time. Your parents will be flying in to meet you and they'll be here in a few hours."

I nodded, even though the thought of seeing my parents felt like a nightmare I could not wake up from, there was nothing I could do to stop it now. Carlos stood up and gave me a pat on my shoulders with a reassuring smile before leaving the room. The letter - I had not told him and anyone about it. It was mine to decipher, whatever it meant.

I was already late for work by the time I left the police station. The clock ticked past my start time, and the familiar anxiety crept in as I drove to the dispatch center. But just as I pulled into the lot, Josh came running out, his face pale and drawn, urgency etched into every line.

"Eli," he said, catching his breath. "There's been a plane crash. Near Austin-Bergstrom International."

A plane crash. My first thought was a fleeting pang of sympathy for the passengers and their families, those who would get that terrible phone call, whose lives would change in an instant. " Wow...that must be pretty devastating for the families ," I murmured, my mind trailing off as I thought of them.

As Josh and I went into the dispatch center together, the dispatch room came alive with the sound of panicked voices, crackling over the radios, the incoming flood of 9-1-1 calls. It was a total chaos, the sound of lives colliding into disaster in real time.

[9-1-1 call recording officially begins]

Incident #1: Plane Crash near Austin-Bergstrom International

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?" Josh's voice was calm but urgent, handling each call with steady precision, trying to calm the frantic voices on the other end of the line. "Yes, ma'am, we're aware of the crash... Yes emergency services are on their way... Please stay clear of the site for your safety..."

The voice on the radio was still frantic as Josh switched over to the team's channels. " To all available units, this is 9-1-1 Dispatch, we've got a plane crash near Austin International. Possible casualties. Requesting immediate response "

The radio crackled again, the voice of Captain Strand coming through, calm but laced with urgency. " We're en route, Dispatch. Set up a perimeter. "

" Copy that, Captain Strand, " Josh replied, his voice barely steady.

My stomach twisted as I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to push away the feeling of dread. Then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Carlos.

The moment I answered, i knew something was wrong. " Eli... " His voice was low, almost cautious, as if he were handling something fragile.

" What is it, Officer Reyes ?" I could feel my heart pounding, the sense of dread growing.

He took a deep breath. " I'm sorry to break it to you. It's your parents... They were on that plane. They were already on the way here, Eli. To see you. I'm sorry... "

The world stopped. The sounds around me faded, and I felt the blood drain from my face. I heard myself mumble something - maybe a question, maybe nothing at all - but my mind was a blank. They were on that plane? The doomed flight that was now nothing more than wreckage scattered across the ground?

I did not wait for Carlos to say more. Without another word, I bolted from the dispatch center, ignoring the calls from my colleagues. The world blurred around me as I stumbled to my car, the only thought in my mind is to get to the crash site, to see it for myself. I needed to see it. I needed proof.

The drive was a blur, the miles passing in silence except for the ringing in my ears. The storm clouds had started to roll in when I arrived. The scene before me was like something out of a nightmare.

The crash site was a wasteland of twisted metal and scorched earth. Pieces of the plane were strewn across the field, a grim reminder of the devastation that had occurred just hours before. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning aviation fuel and charred debris, mingling with the faint scent of rain from an approaching storm. Emergency personnel were everywhere, their faces drawn, their movements precise as they combed through the wreckage.

Smoke billowed from the wreckage, and the sound of helicopters and sirens filled the air. The APD had already secured the area, and the teams were working quickly to triage the survivors. But it was too late for most of them. The plane had gone down hard, and there were no survivors in the immediate vicinity.

Carlos was at the center of the chaos, coordinating with the APD and LAPD, directing paramedics and firefighters to the wreckage. His face was set in a grim expression, but when he saw me, his eyes softened with concern.

"Eli," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around us. "You shouldn't be here."

"I need to see it," I replied, my voice rough. My gaze swept over the site, each piece of wreckage a silent witness to the tragedy that had unfolded. I felt something inside me shatter. I dropped to my knees, and the tears began to flow, uncontrollable, wracking my body as I broke down completely.

Carlos knelt beside me, wrapping his arms around me, steadying me as I sobbed into his shoulder. " They were coming... to see me ," I choked out, the words barely audible. " They were coming for me... "

He held me tighter, his voice a soft murmur of reassurance, though his words were lost amidst my grief. It all crashed down on me, the overwhelming and unbearable guilt and sorrow, the aching realization of everything I had lost in an instant. I clung to him, letting the tears flow, unable to hold back the pain that had been bottling up for so long.

Gradually, I became aware of more hands resting gently on my back, my shoulders. One by one, the rest of the 126 team had joined us, forming a circle of warmth and support around me. I felt Owen's steady hand on my shoulder, Tommy's comforting presence beside me, TK's reassuring grip. They didn't say anything - they didn't need to. Their presence spoke volumes, each one of them offering me the strength to bear this unbearable loss.

It was then that they found it. A small piece of paper tucked into the pocket of a charred jacket recovered from the wreckage. One of the firefighters held it up, his face grim as he handed it to me. I recognized the handwriting instantly.

It was a note from my parents.

Hands shaking, I opened it, the familiar scrawl of my mother's handwriting leaping off the page. The words blurred as I read, my heart breaking with each sentence.

" My dearest Elliot Hayes,

We're coming to see you. We know you're hurting, that there are things we should have said and done differently. But please, know this - you are loved, more than you can ever imagine. You don't have to be alone, Eli. You'll always be a part of our family , no matter what. We're proud of you, even if we don't say it enough.

Okay, got to go, plane's going down now. See you over the other side, son .

Love always ,

Victoria and Ricky Hayes "

I could barely hold the letter, my hands trembling as the weight of their words crushed me. The letter had meant to reassure me, to bring me some kind of peace. But now, it felt like a ghost, haunting me with everything I'd lost. And that word - family , echoed in my mind again, mocking me, as if it had been leading up to this.

My parents were gone, and I was here, clutching their final words in my hands, alone. I could not face Carlos or even look anyone in the eye. All I knew was that I had to get away, to put distance between myself and the people who were looking at me with pity, with concern.

That night, a storm swept in over Austin, lightning crackling across the sky as rain poured down in torrents. I found myself back at the dispatch center, my mind numb, my body moving on autopilot as I handled calls. It was almost a relief, the chaos of the night giving me something to focus on, something other than the hollow ache in my chest.

One call came in about a truck accident involving toxic chemicals. The urgency, the need to act, forced me to push everything else aside, to focus solely on the voice on the other end of the line, the details of the emergency, the steps I needed to take. But beneath the surface, the isolation gnawed at me, the sense that I was adrift, disconnected from everyone around me.

After that shift, I started pulling away from T.K., Carlos, and Owen, retreating into a carefully constructed shell. I declined their questions and invitations with polite but vague excuses, convincing myself it was for the best. I could not let myself get too close. Loss was inevitable, and the more I cared, the more it would hurt when everything fell apart.

But T.K. noticed. He always noticed. His gaze lingered on me during those moments when I ducked out of yet another gathering, avoiding their warmth and camaraderie like it was something dangerous. The more I withdrew, the more he seemed to watch, his concern growing heavier with each passing day.

--

One evening, as I finished my shift at the dispatch center, I found T.K. waiting for me in the parking lot. His expression was a mixture of determination and worry, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. The soft glow of the streetlights illuminated his face, casting long shadows on the pavement.

"Hey," he said, his voice calm but insistent. "Can we talk?"

I hesitated, my instinct to brush him off battling with the guilt gnawing at my chest. "T.K., I'm tired. Can it wait?"

He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto mine. "No, it can't. Not anymore." His voice softened, but the urgency remained. "Why are you pulling away, Eli? What's going on?"

I shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. "I'm not pulling away," I said, forcing a smile that did not reach my eyes. "I just... need some space. Too much going on right now."

T.K. folded his arms, not buying it for a second. "Space? You've been isolating yourself for weeks. You barely talk to us anymore. You're shutting everyone out, Eli, and it's not like you."

"It's for the best," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"For who?" T.K. countered, stepping closer. "Because it sure as hell isn't for you, and it's definitely not for us. We care about you, Eli. Carlos, my dad, the whole team - we care. But you're not letting us be there for you."

His words struck a nerve, and I felt the walls I had built around myself start to crack. My throat tightened, but I shook my head, refusing to let the emotions surface. "You don't understand, T.K." I said quietly. "People leave. People... die. It's easier this way. If I don't get too close, I won't lose anything."

T.K.'s expression softened, the frustration in his eyes replaced by something deeper - empathy. "Eli," he said, his voice gentle, "I know what it's like to be afraid of losing people. Believe me, I do. But shutting us out isn't the answer. All it does is make you feel more alone, and you don't deserve that."

I blinked, his words hitting harder than I expected. He reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder, grounding me in the moment.

"We're not going anywhere," he continued. "I'm not going anywhere. Whatever it is you're dealing with, let us help you."

In the end, I turned away, leaving T.K. standing there, the weight of my grief and isolation settling around me like a dark cloud. The letter, with its single word - " family ", remained hidden away in a drawer, a silent note of everything I had lost and the walls I had built to keep everyone at a distance.

Chapter Text

The world felt fractured, like I was moving through it in pieces, each one shattered and jagged. In the wake of my parents' death, my mind never seemed to quiet. Their final letter, the crash site, and that single word - family , kept echoing in my head, replaying over and over, an endless loop that consumed me, night after sleepless night.

Despite the unwavering support of the 126 team, Officer Reyes and the APD's reassurances, I could not shake the fear of getting too close. They had lost people too; they would probably understand, wouldn't they? If I kept my distance, maybe I would not have to face the pain of losing them as well. But every unanswered text, every ignored call seemed to weigh down hard on me, piling on an overwhelming guilt I could neither ignore nor resolve.

I knew they cared, that they were reaching out because they wanted to help. But it was almost as if I'm being locked in a fog of despair, drowning in it and unable to break free. The days blended together, and any sense of peace or comfort seemed out of reach. I could not see a way out; I'm lost.

The thought of going to work was unbearable, and eventually, I stopped showing up. I sent in a leave request to Sue, citing personal reasons. I'd hoped that with the time off, I might finally be able to find my own pathway to healing and nurturing, or lat least get some kind of rest. But instead, the nightmare grew stronger. The loneliness settled in deeper, and I began to spiral out of control.

I still had the medications I had been prescribed, alprazolam, oxycodone and sertraline tucked away in a drawer. I had not taken any since my first panic attack back in the mall weeks ago. I promised myself, these pills should only be used as a last resort. I was too afraid they'd leave me feeling numb, unable to feel anything. But maybe that was what I needed, I told myself, to escape the pain, even if only for a little while.

One night, after hours of lying awake, the constant ache in my chest drove me to the edge. I couldn't keep living like this, couldn't keep reliving that moment in my mind, the twisted wreckage, the lives of my parents lost in an instant. The grief clawed at me, growing stronger with every second until it became an unbearable, unyielding force pressing down on me, suffocating me.

Without hesitation, I reached for the bottle, hands trembling as I unscrewed the cap. My mind whispered that this was the only way out, the only way to escape the agony. I poured several pills into my hand, my vision blurring as I looked down at them. And then, without another thought, I swallowed them, hoping that soon I wouldn't have to feel anything at all.

I lay back, my body growing heavy, my breathing slowing as the world began to fade around me. A strange, numb calm settled over me, like the eye of a storm, and I welcomed it, letting myself sink into the darkness. Everything became distant, hazy, until there was nothing left but the sound of my own heartbeat, slowing... fading...

"Goodbye, world." I murmured under my breath as I started to lose consciousness. 

--

Meanwhile, Carlos, T.K. and Owen were growing increasingly concerned. After days of no contact, they decided to check on me at the dispatch center, hoping I might be at work. When they arrived, Josh met them with a worried look.

"Eli's not here," Josh said. "He's on leave. Has been for a while. I've tried contacting him but his phone kept going straight to voicemail..."

Carlos felt a pit form in his stomach. "Did he say why?"

Josh shook his head. "Just that he needed some time off. I completely understand as he lost his parents in the crash. But he didn't look good the last time I saw him."

T.K. turned to Carlos and Owen, a grim determination in his eyes. "Babe, Dad, we need to find him. Now."

The three of them headed to my hotel, dread building with every step. When they reached my door and knocked, there was no answer.

"Eli, it's Carlos. Can you open up?" His voice was steady, but one could sense the edge of concern in it. Carlos knocked again, his knuckles rapping against the wood with a sense of urgency.

T.K. looked down the hall, his eyes narrowed, the tension clear in his posture. "Something feels off."

After a long, silent moment, Owen nodded, his jaw clenched. "We're not leaving without checking. I'll go down to the receptionist."

"Ma'am, we need access to Room 426. It's an emergency."

--

Moments later, with the receptionist's assistance, they gained entry to the room. T.K. was the first to rush in and he found me lying on the floor, my body still, a faint, shallow rise and fall of my chest barely visible. His heart sank, his instincts kicking in as he rushed to my side, dropping to his knees, his fingers pressing against my neck, searching for a pulse.

"He's alive," T.K. muttered, though his voice trembled slightly. "It's weak, but he's still breathing. Call 9-1-1, now!"

[9-1-1 call recording officially begins]

Incident #1: Possible case of overdose

Dispatcher: " 9-1-1, what is your emergency? "

Carlos: " This is Officer Reyes from APD, this is an emergency. We need an ambulance at the Harlow Hotel, Room 426. Our friend is unresponsive, and his pulse is weak. "

Dispatcher : " Understood, We're dispatching an ambulance to your location now. Can you tell me if there are any visible injuries, or if you're aware of any substances he may have taken? "

T.K.'s face went pale as he spotted the prescription bottles scattered around the floor near me. His eyes darted to the labels, piecing it together almost instantly.

"No...no... he did not just mix Xanax and opioids together... " he muttered, his voice shaking. Panic flared in his eyes as he turned to Carlos, who was already kneeling beside him.

"Babe, can you pass me the phone? " T.K. voice was strained as he held his hand out. Carlos immediately handed him his phone, his jaw tight as he tried to keep his own fear in check.

T.K. : " This is T.K. Strand from 126 EMS. Patient has several prescription bottles scattered around him. Possible benzodiazepine and opioid overdose. Please hurry. "

Owen, kneeling next to me, looked up at Carlos with a grim expression. " We need to keep him breathing until they get here ," he said, pressing his hand gently against my chest to monitor my breaths.

Carlos nodded. "I know. And we'll be here with him every step of the way. "

Minutes later, Captain Vega and Nancy rushed into the room, expecting the usual overdose call, but as they stepped into the room and their eyes landed on me, sprawled out on the floor, their expressions shifted instantly.

Captain Vega froze, her eyes widening as she registered my face. " Oh my god... Eli? " she whispered, her voice laced with shock and worry. She glanced at Nancy, who looked just as stunned, her hand flying to cover her mouth.

" Is this... is this him? " Nancy stammered, glancing back and forth between my pale, unmoving form and T.K. and Carlos, who were hovering nearby with expressions filled with fear and helplessness.

Captain Vega quickly composed herself, settling down her bag and snapping on gloves. " Alright, no time to waste, " she said firmly, though the concern still edged her voice. She knelt down next to me, checking for my pulse and assessing my breathing.

"Pulse is weak, respiratory rate is shallow, " she muttered to Nancy, who nodded, already preparing the oxygen mask.

Nancy carefully tilted my head back, ensuring my airway was open. " I'm getting the oxygen started ," she said, fitting the mask over my nose and mouth. A steady flow of oxygen began to circulate, filling my lungs with each gentle breath.

"T.K., l et's run an IV ," Captain Vega ordered, pulling out an IV kit. T.K. immediately sprung into action and quickly set up the line, tying a tourniquet around my arm to locate a vein. He slid the needle in carefully, securing it as he started a saline drop to stabilize my blood pressure.

Captain Vega then pulled out a vial of activated charcoal and a syringe. " Given the signs, it's likely a benzodiazepine and opioid overdose, " she said. " We need to get this charcoal into his system to bind to any remaining Xanax ."

With the IV in place, Captain Vega injected the activated charcoal, hoping it would absorb as much of the medication as possible. It was a temporary solution to help prevent further absorption until they could get me to the hospital.

As they worked, Owen stood by, his face filled with helplessness and worry. T.K. clenched his firsts, barely able to hold back his tears. Carlos' hand rested on his shoulder, a silent attempt to keep him steady.

"We've stabilized him enough to transport, but he's not out of the woods yet ," Captain Vega said, her voice firm. " Let's get him to the hospital now! "

--

Carlos had been following closely behind the ambulance in his police cruiser, his heart hammering in his chest the entire way. The moment he pulled into the hospital lot, he barely put the car in park before jumping out, rushing through the entrance just as the paramedics disappeared into the ER.

His eyes scanned the room frantically until they landed on Nancy and Tommy, who had stepped back after transferring me into the care of the hospital staff. Their faces were grim, their exhaustion evident, but the urgency in their expressions made his stomach twist with dread.

Carlos strode towards them, his voice uneven as he demanded, "How serious is it, Nancy?" 

Nancy hesitated for a moment, glancing at Tommy before answering. "Honestly, it’s not good, Carlos," she admitted, her voice low.

Carlos swallowed hard, his hands clenched into fists as he struggled to keep himself steady. He looked past them, through the ER doors where I had been wheeled away, feeling utterly helpless.

Tommy, placed a firm hand on Carlos’s shoulder. "He's in the best hands right now, chico. The doctors are doing everything they can."

Carlos nodded, but the tightness in his chest did not ease. His gaze flickered towards T.K. and Owen, who had been standing just a few feet away, watching the exchange with equally stricken expressions. T.K. looked like he was barely keeping it together, his fists clenched at his sides, his eyes red-rimmed.

--

At the hospital, Carlos, T.K. and Owen waited anxiously, pacing the sterile halls as doctors worked to stabilize me. Hours passed, each one stretching longer than the last, filled with worry and fear.

The sterile white light of the hospital room flickered above as the doctor entered, his footsteps heavy, as though carrying the weight of bad news. Owen, T.K. and Carlos all stood up from their seats, their eyes immediately seeking answers. The doctor gave a weary sigh before addressing them, his tone neutral, but with an undercurrent of urgency.

"Your friend, Elliot..." The doctor started, his eyes flicking down to the chart in his hands before looking back up at them. " We've confirmed he ingested a combination of three medications in excessive amounts - Xanax, which is a medicine used to treat panic attacks, oxycodone, which is an opioid medication used to treat severe pains and sertraline, an antidepressant. It's...it's severe. We had to act fast. "

Owen clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides as he fought the sudden surge of helplessness. " Is he going to be okay? " he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, though the anxiety in his tone was unmistakable.

The doctor paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "We're doing everything we can, but...at this stage, we had no choice but to place him in a medically induced coma. His body's under extreme stress, and we need to stabilize him, allow his system time to recover. We'll keep him under for the next twenty four hours at least, but right now, it's the only option we have. "

Carlos's hands tightened into fists as he absorbed the weight of the words. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. " So... what happens next? Will he wake up ?"

"We'll monitor his vitals very closely," the doctor explained. "But, as I said, it's critical that we give his body time to rest and heal. When he wakes up is uncertain. It depends on how he responds over the next few hours. But right now, we just need to be patient. "

T.K. looked at the doctor, his face pale, struggling to wrap his head around it all. "How could he...I mean, I didn't... I didn't think he was... "

"I know. This isn't easy for anyone, " the doctor said gently, giving them all a moment of silence. " But the most important thing right now is that we stabilize him and give him the best possible chance to recover ."

Carlos, usually the calm one in any crisis, felt a flicker of fear in his chest. His throat tightened as he nodded slowly. " Thank you, doctor. Just...keep us posted, okay? We're here if you need anything ."

The doctor nodded and gave them a small, reassuring smile. " Of course. We'll update you regularly. But for now, let's give him the space he needs to heal."

As the doctor left the room, the silence was almost suffocating. Owen rubbed his temples, his mind spinning. T.K. stepped closer to Carlos, his voice shaky. "Babe, what are we supposed to do now? "

Carlos's face was unreadable, his gaze fixed on the bed where I lay motionless, machines beeping around me. He did not have the answer, not yet. There was nothing anyone could say, could do, except, to wait.

But as they stood there, they knew one thing for certain: I was fighting my own demons, ones that had finally caught up with me, and the path ahead was uncertain.

The storm of emotions was only just the beginning.

Chapter Text

The darkness surrounded me, thick and suffocating, stretching infinitely in every direction. I was trapped in a void where time was non-existent - somewhere between consciousness and oblivion. I tried to move, to lift my arms, to take a single step forward, but my body refused to obey. My limbs felt impossibly heavy, as if they were bound by invincible chains, holding me captive in this endless abyss. I fought against the overwhelming weight, struggling to break free, but nothing happened. I was stuck, motionless, helpless.

Then, through the silence, I heard it - a voice.

It was faint, almost a whisper carried on a breeze that did not exist. It echoed around me, distant and familiar, tugging at something deep within me.

“Eli…”

I turned my head, trying to locate the source, but there was nothing. Just an endless expanse of blackness stretching into eternity. Was the voice real, or was it just a trick of my mind?

I tried reaching out instinctively, desperate to grasp onto something, anything - but my arms remained frozen in place.

The whisper called out again, softer this time, as if the source was growing farther away. My chest tightened with urgency. If I let go now, if I stopped fighting, I might never find my way back. Just then, a flicker of light appeared in the distance.

It was barely there, a dim spark in the overwhelming dark, but it was something. The longer I stared, the brighter it grew, radiating a faint warmth that cut through the icy void. There was something different about this light, something that felt… hopeful. 

I forced myself forward, pushing against the darkness that clung to me like a second skin. With each step, the light grew stronger, until it wasn’t just a glow anymore. A figure had begun to take shape within it, blurred at first but becoming clearer with each moment. T he blackness around me shifted, folding in on itself, and suddenly, I was no longer in the void.

I was home.

The dining room table sat in front of me, bathed in golden sunlight that streamed through the windows. The scent of freshly baked bread lingered in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of Mom’s cooking. She stood in the kitchen, humming softly as she moved between the stove and the counter, just like she used to. Dad sat at the table, engrossed in his iPad, his fingers idly scrolling as if nothing had changed.

I blinked, my heart pounding.

I turned to my mother, my voice shaky as I spoke. “Mom…?”

She turned to face me, her warm brown eyes softening as she gave me a gentle smile. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. “Are you… are you really here?” A flicker of confusion crossed her face before she shook her head with a small chuckle. “Of course I am, Eli. Where else would I be?”

My hands curled into fists at my sides. This was a dream. A memory. Or maybe something far worse.

I took a deep breath, forcing the words out. “Why did you file a missing person’s report on me?” My voice wavered, laced with emotions I could not suppress. Dad finally looked up from his iPad, his sharp gaze locking onto mine. His face was unreadable, but there was something cold in his eyes, something I had seen too many times before.

“You left without telling us,” he said, his voice even but firm. “We tried calling you. We left messages. You never answered. What were we supposed to think, son?”

My throat tightened.

“I didn’t leave because I hated you both,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “I left because I had to. I was drowning, and neither of you noticed. I gave you so many signs, and you ignored every single one of them. My mental health was falling apart, and I needed space. I needed to breathe.”

For the first time, my mother’s expression faltered, sadness flickering in her eyes. But my father’s face remained cold, unreadable.

“Silly boy,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Do you think distance changes anything? That leaving erases the damage? You’re still the same broken boy, Eli. Just in a different place.”

I took a step back as his words cut through me like a knife.

“You don’t understand, Dad,” I argued.

“No, Eli,” he said, his voice sharp as ice. “You don’t understand.” He leaned forward, his eyes darkening. “You made a mistake leaving us. And now, you’re making the same mistake again. Running away from the people who care for you. Owen. Carlos. T.K. They’re calling for you right now, but you can’t hear them, can you?”

A chill ran down my spine.

“You’re slipping away.”

The warmth of my childhood home soon faded. Shadows crept in from the corners, swallowing the sunlight, consuming everything. The walls collapsed into darkness, and I fell, tumbling into the void once more.

My parents were gone, and in their place, the figure of someone new appeared - myself. A hollow, twisted version stood before me. His face was pale and gaunt, his eyes empty, void of anything human. His lips curled into a sneer.

"You're weak and selfish." His voice was an eerie echo of my own. "You ran, but it wasn’t enough, was it? You’re still drowning. And now, you're dragging everyone else down with you."

I swallowed hard. "That’s not true."

"Isn’t it?" He took a step forward. "You think Owen, Carlos, T.K. will keep waiting for you? You think they’ll always be there to pull you back? You’re nothing but a burden."

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my fists clenching.

"No," I said, my voice shaking but strong. "I may have lost everything - my parents, the people I tried to save - but I'm not running anymore. I’m fighting to be stronger. To be better."

The twisted version of me scoffed. "Then prove it, you son of a gun."

And suddenly, he lunged at me , his hands grasping at my throat , darkness pooling around us. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move. It felt like every mistake, every failure, was clawing its way through me. My vision blurred , the light fading, the voices of my friends growing distant.

-- 

Owen stood by the door, arms wrapped tightly around himself as he watched Eli’s unmoving body. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room, a quiet but constant reminder that I was still here.

Carlos sat beside the bed, one hand gripping Eli’s fingers, his thumb running absentmindedly over his knuckles. T.K. leaned against the side window, staring outside but not really seeing anything.

Then, the monitor let out a sharp, piercing beep.

Owen’s body tensed as the beeping grew erratic. Carlos’s head snapped toward the bed just in time to see Eli’s body begin to convulse violently, his limbs jerking against the mattress. His chest heaved, his fingers twitching uncontrollably.

“Oh my God,” T.K. breathed, his face pale with shock.

Carlos jumped to his feet, his voice frantic. “Something’s wrong! We need help!”

Without hesitation, he and T.K. bolted out of the room, shouting for nearby doctors and nurses.

" He's coding. We need help in here, now!”

Within seconds, a team of medical staff rushed towards the room with their crash cart, the sound of hurried footsteps and urgent voices filling the corridor. Carlos and T.K. ran back inside, grabbing Eli’s hands as his body continued to shake.

“Eli, please!” T.K.’s voice cracked as he tightened his grip. “Come on, buddy. You have to fight. You have to push through this!”

Carlos leaned in closer, his other hand pressing against Eli’s chest. “You’re not leaving us, you hear me?” His voice trembled. “You don’t get to do this, Eli. You don’t get to leave us like this.”

Eli’s body convulsed again, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The heart monitor screamed in protest.

The medical team rushed in, quickly assessing the situation. “Guys, we need space,” a doctor said urgently.

A nurse grabbed Carlos and T.K. by the arms, guiding them away.

“Guys, I need you all to step outside,” she instructed firmly.

“No!” Owen’s voice broke.

Carlos clenched his jaw, his eyes burning. “We have to stay with him.”

The doctor shook his head. “Right now, the best thing you can do is let us do our job. We're doing everything we can. He's not giving us much. We need the space to work.” 

"Charging to 200 joules! Clear !"

The defibrillator paddles shocked him, sending a jolt of energy through his fragile body. The monitors fluctuated, a brief flicker of a rhythm before it dropped again.

Carlos felt his stomach twist. His whole body was tense, unable to look away. He had to fight the urge to drop to his knees and scream. " Come on, Eli... don't do this, " Carlos muttered under his breath, gripping T.K.'s hand tighter as he watched from the outside.

Owen, standing at his side, finally let out a shaky breath, his hands still trembling. "God, please… Please don’t take him away from us. Please don’t take him away from me." His voice was barely audible, trembling as he squeezed his eyes shut. "I don’t know if I deserve to ask You for anything, but I’m begging You. Eli doesn’t deserve this. He’s been through enough. He’s been fighting for so long. Please… let him wake up. Let him come back to us."

Finally, a soft gasp broke the silence.

" Got a pulse ," the doctor announced. " He's back. "

The beeping slowed to a steady rhythm. The tension in the room eased just slightly, though the pain on everyone's faces remained.

--

As I continued to drift further into the endless void, the oppressive silence was broken once again by a familiar voice - a voice I never expected to hear in this desolate place. It was soft, tentative , and filled with a sadness that seeped into my bones. T.K. stood before me, shrouded in the same darkness, his face pale and hollow.

"Eli..." he murmured. "Why fight it? The pain... it never really goes away. You know that."

There was something hauntingly ethereal about him, though. He did not sound like the T.K. Strand I knew, with that sheer tenacity and fierce loyalty. This version of T.K. seemed. drained, like the ghost of a man who had given up long ago.

I felt a cold chill crawl down my spine as he took a step closer, his eyes fixed on mine. I could see shadows behind his gaze, memories of a time when he, too, had been trapped in a pit of despair.

I remembered his story, how he had almost lost his life in New York, how he danced with death, teetering on the edge when he overdosed, only to be pulled back from the brink.

But this version of T.K. felt completely different - darker, as if he had not been saved that night. "There's peace here, Eli," he whispered, almost pleading. "No pain. No struggle. Just... quiet." He reached out a hand, his fingers just barely grazing my arm, cold and weightless.

"You don't have to keep fighting. It doesn't get any easier."

I shook my head, trying to find my voice. " T.K, ...no. This isn't you. "

He chuckled bitterly. " You don't know, Eli. You haven't seen the things I've seen, felt the things I've felt. Sometimes, there's no light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes... this is all there is. "

I felt a familiar sense of hopelessness creeping back in, urging me to let go. The darkness seemed to swell around us, thick and inescapable, pressing in on me from all sides.

"Think about it, Eli, " T.K. continued, his gaze steady.

" All the people you've lost. Your parents... you didn't even get to say goodbye. And all this pain you're carrying, it's not going anywhere. Why struggle when you could just... let it go right? "

The thought of finally escaping the weight of grief and regret was tantalizing, the idea of slipping into an endless, dreamless sleep where nothing could hurt me. T.K.'s words echoed in my mind, gnawing at my resolve.

Then, his expression shifted. His lips curved into a hollow, humorless smirk, and his voice turned eerily calm, almost contemplative.

"Eli, you know what the funny thing is?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his dull eyes locked onto mine. "When you're alive, people don’t give a damn about you or your problems. They pretend to care, they ask if you’re okay, but they never really see you. They don’t notice when you’re breaking. They don’t stay when you’re falling apart. You’re always left to deal with it on your own."

He let out a breathy chuckle. "But the moment you’re lying in that damn coffin ? That’s when they start crying. That’s when they start blaming themselves, saying ‘if only I had checked in more, if only I had been there, if only I had listened.’ " His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. 

"They bring flowers, they say your name like it suddenly means something, but it’s too fucking late . Humanity is strange, isn’t it?"

I felt my chest tighten, my pulse thudding against my ribs. Because I knew he was not entirely wrong.

I had felt that same loneliness before, that same abandonment. I had spent nights wondering if anyone would truly care if I disappeared, if anyone would notice.

But as much as his words resonated with me, I knew something he did not.

"That’s not the whole truth, T.K.," I whispered, shaking my head. "Yeah, some people don’t care. Some people turn a blind eye. But not everyone ."

I remembered the real T.K. Strand - the one who had found his way back from his own darkness, the T.K. who fought every day to live, to love , to find his purpose in life.

" This... this isn't you, T.K. ," I said, my voice trembling but firm. "The real you didn't give up. You fought your way back. You fought because there were people who did see you. There were people who refused to let you go. Your parents, your team… They needed you. And if you had given up, if you had let the darkness win, you never would have known how much they loved and appreciated you. T.K., if you can do it, so do I ."

The ghostly figure of T.K. faltered, his form flickering, as if my words were unravelling him. He tilted his head, a faint, sad smile on his face. " Y ou're stronger than you think, Eli. But sometimes, strength is just a mask... covering up the pain. "

" Maybe, " I replied, feeling a new surge of determination coursing through me. " But I'm not done yet, T.K. Not while there are people waiting for me, people who care and love me.”  

The darkness around T.K. grew thick and restless, almost angry, and he began to fade, his face softening into something closer to peace. He nodded slowly, the shadows retreating from his eyes.

" Then go back ," he whispered, his voice barely audible. " Go back to them, Eli. Don't make the same mistakes as I did ."

With those final words, he vanished, leaving me standing alone in the dark once more. But now, the light seemed closer, stronger, calling me with a warmth that broke through the cold.

"Come on, Eli. Come back to us." It was Owen again, his voice breaking through the chaos of my mind. I could feel his touch - real, solid, like a tether pulling me back to the world of the living.

The darkness receded, just a little, and I focused on that hand. I grabbed hold of it, and the darkness screamed. The pressure eased. And I fought - I fought for the light, for the warmth, for the love that was waiting for me.

And then, there was nothing but a wave of light, a warmth that filled me to my core. Taking one last deep breath, I felt everything rush back in an overwhelming flood. The coldness of the hospital room. The soft beeping of the machines. The quiet voices calling my name.

My eyes opened.

Owen's face appeared before me, his eyes wide with disbelief and relief. He looked like he had not slept in days, his face drawn and exhausted, but when he saw me blink, a smile broke through his weariness.

“Eli?”

“Oh my God,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he reached out, his trembling hands cupping my face as if afraid I would disappear. “Oh my God, Eli, you’re awake.”

Carlos was at my side in an instant, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. " You scared the hell out of us, kid, " he said, his voice thick. " But we're not going anywhere. We're here. "

T.K. stepped forward, kneeling by my bed, his hand gently squeezing mine. " You're here, Eli, " he said, his voice cracking. "You came back to us. I knew you would."

And then I saw them. The team. Judd, Marjan, Mateo, Paul, Nancy, Tommy - each of them standing there, faces full of relief and sadness. They had been waiting for me too. They had never given up on me, even when I had given up on myself.

My heart swelled with emotion. I had a family. A family who cared.

The first thing I did when I could speak again, was look up at Owen, T.K., Carlos and the team... and say the words that had been trapped inside me for so long:

"Thank you for not giving up on me."

Owen smiled through his tears. " We never will, Eli."

As I sat on the bed, the silence was thick around us. I could feel every gaze on me - Owen, T.K., Carlos, Nancy, the entire 126 team. They all seemed to know I had been holding back, hiding things I have yet to say out loud. The looks they exchanged, a mixture of worry, confusion, and expectation, made it impossible for me to keep things buried any longer.

Carlos leaned forward, his eyes searching my face, his voice calm but pressing. " Eli, I think we all know there's something more going on here. Whatever it is, you don't have to carry it alone. Let us in. Tell us what's been haunting you. "

Finally, I forced myself to speak, the words heavy on my tongue.

" I... I've been receiving letters, " I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. " Two of them, actually . They came out of nowhere. The first one said " The clock strikes on November 17 , and the second one said " family ". I had already received the first letter when Owen came to check on me a few weeks ago. The second letter came a few nights ago."

There was a ripple of murmurs among the team, a flash of concern in their eyes. I pressed on, hoping to make sense of it myself as much as for them.

" At first, I thought it was just a strange coincidence, " I continued, " but then... bad things kept happening. On November 17th, I dealt with my first death on call. The father who got pinned under the car... Then the next letter about ‘family’, my parents on that doomed flight - it's like every time I get a letter, something terrible follows. "

Nancy leaned forward, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Are you saying you think the letters are somehow... connected to the events? Like, they're predicting them?"

I nodded, swallowing hard. "It feels that way. I don't know if it's a warning or something more sinister. But the timing... it's too perfect, or maybe too twisted, to be random. The letters were written in a handwriting that almost looks like mine, but there's something...off. It's as if someone else is trying to speak to me in my own voice."

Just as the air in the room grew heavier, Mateo tried to lighten the mood with an awkward bad joke.

"So... Do you think these letters are, like, ghost messages from beyond, or maybe like a really bad prank show?" He quipped, grinning nervously. " Maybe it's like, ghost mail? "

The room went silent, everyone staring at him with a mix of disbelief and irritation. Marjan rolled her eyes, giving Mateo a disapproving shake of her head.

"Probie, not the time, man." Judd grunted, folding his arms and shooting him a stern look.

Marjan raised an eyebrow. "You know what, probie?” She said, her eyes glinting with playful mischief. She turned to the doctor, who was standing near the hallway with a conspiratorial grin on her face. "Hey Doc, do you have some tape in hand?"

The doctor, slightly taken aback but catching the tone, nodded with a bemused smile. "Umm yes...in fact, I do."

Mateo's eyes went wide as Marjan took the roll of medical tape, peeling off a strip. " No, no, no! Marj, c'mon, it was just a joke! "

" Exactly, and here's the punchline! " she replied with a laugh, moving towards him.

Before Mateo could even protest, she carefully taped a strip across his mouth, making sure it was just firm enough to keep him from any more ‘helpful’ comments. The whole team burst out laughing, the tension breaking for just a moment.

"There. Peace and quiet!" Judd said, chuckling. " Best decision all day, Marj. "

Mateo attempted a muffled " I told you it was just a joke! " but it came out as incoherent mumbling, which only added to everyone's laughter.

Carlos, smiling, gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. The moment softened the seriousness of the conversation earlier, letting me feel a little less tense, like we were all a family navigating this strange and dark situation together - which somehow, did not feel quite as terrifying as it had before . 

" We need to get to the bottom of this, " Carlos said. " These letters - whatever their origin, we'll find out what's and who's behind them. I have a detective in my department who might help us dig deeper. " 

T.K.'s voice broke the quiet, soft but steady. " Eli, if these letters are somehow tied to what happened, we're not going to let you through it alone. We're with you, no matter what. " 

For the first time, the letters did not feel like an inevitable curse, but something the 126 team could face together .

Chapter Text

Therapy was something I had always approached cautiously. But after everything, Owen kindly insisted I give it another go. He did not push, but his words stuck with me, and eventually, I found myself in the familiar waiting room of the therapist's office, trying to steady my breathing.

When I was finally called in, the therapist, Dr. Sarah Reeves, greeted me with a warm smile. She was younger than I had expected, with an open expression that helped me feel just a bit more comfortable. After a few minutes of small talk, she gently steered the conversation into more difficult territory.

"So, Mr Hayes, " she began, "You've been through a lot recently. Where would you like to start?"

I hesitated, glancing at the framed art on her wall. "I guess...the plane crash. Losing my parents. It's like I'm stuck in that moment. The NTSB is still investigating the cause of the crash."

She nodded, allowing a moment of silence to pass. "It's normal to feel frozen after such a traumatic event. We can work through that together, piece by piece, at your own pace."

It was hard to explain the thoughts circling in my mind - the feeling of betrayal by life, by fate, by everything. But as I spoke, Dr Reeves listened, never interrupting, her face compassionate and understanding.

"That's what hard for me," I finally admitted. "One minute, my parents were alive, and the next, they were just... gone. And then those letters. I don't even know where to begin."

She leaned forward slightly. "Trauma can shatter our sense of stability. We lose the feeling of being grounded, of knowing what to expect. But part of our work together can be about finding that ground again, even if it looks different than it did before ."

Her words made sense, yet they felt abstract, like something happening to someone else. But I wanted to try, I wanted to feel grounded again.

In the following sessions, Dr Reeves introduced techniques to manage my anxiety and trauma, gently encouraging me to stay present when my mind would wander back to that dark place. She taught me breathing exercises and guided visualizations that felt strange at first, but I'm no stranger to these exercises. When I was diagnosed with panic disorder, my previous therapist taught me the same techniques that I could apply in my daily life. However, these techniques were never quite handy - I would swing into full panic mode, losing control of everything.

However gradually with more practices, I found myself able to go a little longer without reliving the crash or feeling the same sharp edge of grief. We also began to unpack the significance of the letters and my recurring feelings of loss, betrayal, and anxiety.

"Grief can feel isolating, and it's a natural reaction to want to protect yourself from more pain," she explained. "But shutting yourself off, avoiding attachments - it may keep you safe, but it can also limit you from experiencing the healing that comes through connection."

It was something I had resisted for so long. But with every session, I felt the armor I had built around myself begin to chip away, bit by bit.

Moving in with Owen was a decision I had not anticipated making, but here I was, unpacking in his spare bedroom, feeling both cautious and oddly at peace. There was something comforting about the way he navigated around me - giving me space, but showing up with small, subtle gestures that spoke volumes. A cup of coffee waiting on the counter in the morning, my favorite cereal tucked into a cabinet, and a knowing smile when he'd catch me having a quiet moment.

Owen's place had a way of feeling like...well, at home.

One evening, after a particularly intense therapy session with Dr Reeves, I found myself unwinding on the couch, flipping through TV channels as Owen came out of his room holding an elaborate array of skincare products. He had his sleeves rolled up and was meticulously setting down jars and bottles on the counter, lining them up like he was preparing for surgery.

I watched him with curiosity and amusement. "Owen, what are you doing?"

He looked at me with a matter-of-fact expression. "It's skin care time, Eli. You don't maintain a glow like this without effort."

"Right...the glow," I said, stifling a laugh as he raised a tube of cleanser like a weapon. "Well, in fact, I actually have a diploma in aesthetics practices. There's more to skin than you think."

"Oh?" Owen's brows shot up, visibly intrigued. "Care to share some wisdom?"

And that was all I needed to dive into a full lecture. I leaned forward, grabbing a nearby moisturizer bottle as a prop. "Alright, so the skin's not just about looking good. It's your largest organ, you know?" I started, in full professor mode now. "Cleansing isn't just about scrubbing, it's about pH balance, removing dead skin cells, and avoiding stripping natural essential oils. You, sir, need to watch out for that in your choice of products."

Owen listened with an amused grin, nodding as if he were truly taking mental notes. "Alright, Professor Eli, teach me about hydration."

"Gladly," I replied, holding up his moisturizer like a trophy. "This here? It's a powerhouse. You've got to lock in moisture, especially for anti-aging. Those fine lines don't disappear without serious hydration."

I went on and on about exfoliants, serums, the benefits of antioxidants, and even threw in a segment on eye cream. Owen listened with rapt attention, clearly entertained by my impromptu skincare lecture. By the time I got to the importance of sunscreen, he looked completely absorbed.

"Why do I feel like I've only scratched the surface of skincare? " he muttered, shaking his head in awe.

Just then, T.K. and Carlos walked in, bearing bags of takeout. T.K. paused mid-step, taking in the sight of his dad with a handful of toner and me, in the middle of a heartfelt lecture on facial serums.

"Wow. Are you two bonding...over skincare? " T.K.'s voice was full of amusement as he shot Carlos a knowing glance.

Carlos chuckled, setting down the takeout bags. "Looks like we're witnessing the birth of a new father-son ritual."

Owen rolled his eyes, but he was laughing too. "You're just jealous that you don't understand the fine art of hydration."

T.K. held up his hands, smirking. "Hey, more power to you, Dad. And to you, Eli. You've got the old man looking like a million bucks."

We all burst into laughter, the easy atmosphere filling the room like a balm over the events of the past few weeks. That night was one of the first times I had felt truly at ease since... well, since the plane crash.

The next few days moved slowly. Owen helped me move my things into his apartment, his steady presence reassuring as he left me to settle in but made it clear he was there if I needed him. 

As Owen and I unpacked my things, he kept glancing over at the counter with a grin that seemed like it had been waiting to break free. Finally, he waved me over and gestured dramatically to the sleek, silver appliance sitting in the center of the kitchen. 

"Eli ," he said, with all the enthusiasm of someone introducing their newborn child, "Meet my prized possession. The best blender ever made - Marlon Blendo." 

I looked at it, impressed. "It's...a blender ." 

Owen's grin only widened. "Not just any blender. This beauty is a top of the line, industrial strength, high speed machine. It can pulverize anything, and I mean anything. Smoothies, nut butters, soups - this thing does it all."

He looked at me, his eyes bright with the kind of excitement I'd seen in kids unwrapping their first bike. I couldn't help but laugh. "I didn't know you were so passionate about blending too ." 

"Oh, you have no idea ," he said, flipping the switch and letting the powerful whirr of the motor fill the room. "I'm telling you, Eli, once you try this, there's no going back. I make a mean green smoothie with this thing every morning. Keeps me alive on those long shifts." 

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. "I'll take your word for it. Maybe we can bond over a smoothie tomorrow morning." 

Owen laughed and patted me on the shoulder. "Deal. One Owen Strand special smoothie coming right up at 6 a.m." 

With the small moments of laughter, the weight on my shoulders felt a little lighter. Owen had an uncanny ability to pull me out of my darker thoughts and ground me, reminding me that there were still good things waiting for me in this new chapter. 

That evening, T.K. came over, pacing in the living room before sitting down with his dad. 

"Dad, I've been thinking about something." T.K. looked serious, his jaw set with determination. 

Owen looked up, surprised but attentive. "What's on your mind, son? " 

"I'm ready to go back to being a firefighter. I know it sounds sudden, but... I've thought about this a lot. Being a paramedic - it's meaningful, and I've loved it. But being a firefighter feels like my purpose, you know? Previously I told you I was still trying to find myself, my purpose, whether staying here in 126 will be a good idea, I finally found my answers today." 

Owen's eyes softened, pride evident. "I understand, son. If that's what you're feeling, you should go for it. I'm proud of you." 

"Thanks, Dad ," T.K. replied, smiling with a bit of relief. Then he turned to me. " Eli, what about you? You've got some medical knowledge... have you ever thought about being a paramedic? " 

The question caught me off guard. I thought about my experience in dispatch, how every 911 call felt like a small step towards helping someone. Did I want to be out in the field? 

"I'll think about it, " I said. " It's... a big decision. But thanks for believing in me." 

The next day:

Feeling stronger, I decided to return to the call center. As I entered, my colleagues were waiting, holding flowers and little gifts. Josh was the first to greet me, a broad smile on his face. 

"Welcome back, Eli! We missed you, man! " he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Thanks, Josh," I replied, touched by the gesture. 

Before I could settle in fully, I heard another voice that immediately warmed me. 

"Eli! " Sue's voice rang out with genuine excitement. She walked over, arms wide open, her face beaming. The next thing I knew, I was wrapped in a big hug that was both surprising and comforting. "Welcome back, hon." 

"Thanks, Sue, " I murmured, feeling a mixture of warmth and nostalgia settle over me. Her hugs were like a steadying force, grounding me back into the space I had missed, despite everything. 

She pulled back and gave me an appraising look, as if checking to see if I was really okay. "You know, this place hasn't been the same without you," she said with a small smile. "The whole team was counting down the days for you to come back. You're part of this family, Eli ." 

Her words sank in, and I found myself nodding, not quite able to keep my voice steady. " I've missed it too. More than I realized ." 

She nodded, understanding in her eyes. "I know you've been through a lot. It's okay to feel a little out of place or even... hesitant. But just remember, no matter what's going on, you've got all of us rooting for you." 

I smiled, feeling the weight of her wisdom in those words. Sue had been in this job long enough to have seen it all, and her calm resilience was something I deeply respected. "Thanks, Sue. That... that means a lot." 

She gave me a warm, approving nod. "Anytime, Eli. And just remember, if you ever need someone to talk to or just a little wisdom... my door's always open." 

With a final pat on my shoulder, she left me to settle back in, but her words stayed with me long after she walked away. 

The day progressed smoothly, the usual calls filling the quiet buzz of the room. Then a call came through that made the air go still. 

[9-1-1 call recording officially begins]

Incident: Possible suicide case

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" 

There was a beat of silence, followed by a shaky, hesitant voice. "Uh... hi. I, um... I don't know if this is the right number to call." 

I took a deep breath, softening my tone. "You're in the right place. Can you tell me what's going on?" 

"I... I don't want to be here anymore. I just feel like... everything's too much," the caller whispered, barely holding back a sob. 

My throat tightened as the words hit me, but I pushed down my own emotions. This was about them, and I needed to be there for them. "I'm so sorry you're feeling this way. I know it's tough, but talking through it can sometimes help. I'm here for you, and I'm listening. What's your name?" 

"It's... it's Norah." 

"Hi, Norah. I'm Eli. Can you tell me where you are right now?" 

There was a moment's pause, then she whispered, "I'm at home, in my apartment." 

"Okay, Norah, thank you for telling me that. Can you let me know if there's anyone with you right now, or if you're alone?" 

"I'm alone," she replied softly. 

"Alright, I'm here with you. Can you tell me what's been on your mind? Sometimes just sharing a little bit of what you're going through can help," I said gently, hoping to ease her into opening up. 

She took a shaky breath. "I don't even know where to start... Everything just feels wrong. Like, I can't seem to make anything work, and I feel like I'm just dragging everyone else down. My family... they just don't understand. And I don't want to be a burden to anyone anymore." 

Her words were hauntingly familiar. I felt a pang of recognition, but I stayed steady. "Norah, I hear you. It sounds like you've been carrying so much on your own, and it's made you feel isolated. But I promise, you're not a burden. Reaching out and letting someone know what's going on, that takes real strength. You're not alone" 

I signalled the 126 team, giving them Norah's location and brief details as I kept the conversation going with her, trying to hold her attention and keep her talking. 

"Norah, can you look around and tell me one thing you can see, one thing you can feel, and one thing you can hear? Let's try it together, okay?" I suggested, using one of the grounding techniques Dr Reeves had mentioned in my session. 

"I... I can see the window. And I feel... the edge of the table," she murmured, her voice sounding just a touch more stable. 

"That's great, Norah. Keep going, just like that."

I could hear over the radio as the 126 team arrived at her building. Judd's voice, steady and grounded, cut through. "We're on our way up. Keep her talking, Eli." 

Back on the call, I continued talking with Norah, reassuring her, letting her know she was not alone. "You're doing amazing, Norah. Can you keep telling me about what's around you?" 

"I... I can hear cars outside. It's calming, in a weird way," she admitted. 

"That's perfect. Keep listening to those sounds. Just focus on each sound, one at a time," I encouraged, knowing that every word, every second counted. 

A few moments later, I heard Judd's voice over the radio. "We've reached the door. Going in now." 

"Norah, there are people here who care about you, right outside your door. They're coming to help you, and you don't have to go through this alone." 

There was a small, almost imperceptible sound of relief from her. "Okay...thank you, Eli." 

-- 

A beat later, I heard Judd's gentle but firm voice in the background, talking to Norah, letting her know she was safe. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight lift slightly. Norah was going to be okay. 

As the 126 team worked with Norah in person, I listened to the follow up communications, absorbing the careful, coordinated effort they put into every call. Their professionalism, their calm in the face of crisis - it was incredible, and for the first time, I felt a pull toward that same purpose. 

The thought lingered as I finished the call and hung up, lost in my thoughts. Maybe I was capable of something more, something beyond the safety of the dispatch center. 

Later, when I returned to Owen's apartment, he looked at me with a proud smile, clearly having heard about the call. " You did good, Eli. Really good. " 

And as I relived the experience, I remembered the offer Owen and T.K. had given me - to try out as a paramedic. There was a warmth, a sense of possibility, and even though it scared me, I couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe... I was ready to take that first step.

Chapter Text

Months following my recovery had been a rollercoaster ride. Life felt like it was slowly piecing itself back together, but there was still a gnawing emptiness, an unresolved question hanging over everything. Despite the progress in my therapy and settling down here in Austin with my new family, there was one thing I still could not escape - the plane crash that claimed my parents' lives. The cause still remains a mystery, and nothing seems to feel like closure.

Then, the news broke.

It was not the type of news I was hoping for, but it was the news that would start to put some of the pieces back together. It started with a press release that one early morning. 

"Preliminary investigations into the crash of LA207, the doomed flight that claimed the lives of 200 people have identified potential foul play."

My heart raced as I watched further. The details were murky at first. The cause of the crash had been investigated for months, and it was finally starting to look like someone might be responsible. Based on the investigation, an unnamed person had interfered with the plane's systems, deliberately sabotaging the flight. 

The suspect was a former aircraft engineer and had been working under the radar for months before the crash, his ties to a criminal syndicate surfacing only after the investigation was deep into its third month.

Despite the initial breakthrough, there was a sense of frustration. The suspect had managed to escape custody before he could be formally charged. He's still on the run, and now the Texas Rangers, along with the Austin Police Department, are on high alert to track him down.

I sat in the kitchen of Owen's apartment, sipping my hot chocolate in silence. The knowledge that this person is still out there, evading justice, makes my skin crawl. But more than that, I felt like I was being kept in the dark, like there's still so much more to this story than what the authorities are letting on. I knew the cause of the crash was not the full answer to everything. I needed something more. I needed closure.

"I don't care about how badly damaged and widespread the debris of the wreckage are", I said, my voice uncharacteristically sharp. "I need to know more. I need to know who was behind this and what's the motive behind this deliberate sabotage."

Owen put his mug down, his expression serious. "You've been through a lot, Eli. This isn't something you should handle alone."

But I was no longer alone. Carlos had been there every step of the way, ever since I came out of the coma. He had been patient with me, always supporting me while I dealt with my inner demons.

"Maybe", I said. "Carlos will probably know more. He's got connections with the other detectives in his department after all."

Carlos did not waste any time getting involved. Once I told him how I was feeling, he immediately called in a favor from Sarina Washington, a detective from the Austin Police Department. 

She had been handling the case and had been a quiet presence in the background, her role in the investigation a well kept secret. Carlos assured me that with Detective Washington's help, we would be able to uncover the full truth one at a time.

I met Detective Washington in her office the next day, with Carlos by my side. The quiet hum of her computer and the stacks of case files surrounding her.

"I'm glad you came, Mr Elliot Hayes", she said as I took a seat across from her. "You have questions, and we need to get you answers. But you've got to be ready. Some of what we've uncovered is ugly. And it's not pretty. But we need to dive into it, and you've got to be prepared."

I nodded, with determination in my chest. "I need to know the whole truth, detective, no matter how bad it is."

Detective Washington pulled out one of the case files from the pile on her desk. She flipped it open, revealing photographs and documents. "This is the suspect we've been after. His name's Nathan Caldwell . He's been under our radar for a while. A former aircraft engineer, now on the run. He's part of a much larger operation, a criminal syndicate involved in high level sabotages."

The words hit me like a punch in the gut. Caldwell. A criminal. The realization sank in like stones, the anger slowly bubbling inside me.

"Do we know the reason why he did that?" I asked, my voice shaking with a mixture of grief and anger.

Detective Washington hesitated before answering. "It's still unclear. It's possible he committed such an act because of a personal vendetta, or he might have been part of something much bigger. We're working on it. The investigation is still ongoing, and APD's working with the Texas Rangers to track him down. We're hoping to get him soon."

After the meeting with Detective Washington, Carlos stayed by my side, making sure I did not get too lost in my thoughts. He could see that I was spiraling, that I was growing increasingly obsessed with finding answers.

"Don't let this eat at you, Eli," he warned, his voice soft but firm. "You don't need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. We'll get him. But you've got to focus on you too."

"Thank you Carlos, oh.. I mean Officer Reyes, for your help,” I whispered, feeling a sense of relief.

Then, late one night, back at Owen's apartment, I found myself revisiting my parents' final letter . The words blurred through my tears as I held the letter close. Knowing that they loved me for whoever I am sank deeper into my heart than they ever had before.

That was the moment I knew what I had to do. I wanted to save lives, protect the people I cared about, not just behind computer screens and a headset, but physically out in the field. So I took a deep breath and headed straight to the 126 firehouse. Owen and the rest of the team are currently still on their shift, making it a perfect time for me to show up there.

At the firehouse, Captain Strand and Captain Vega were waiting, both looking curious as I approached. They knew a little of what I had been going through, but I had not yet spoken to them about my newfound purpose.

"Captain Strand, Captain Vega," I began, feeling the weight of the moment. "After much consideration, I...I want to become a paramedic. I want to be part of a team that helps people, that makes a difference."

They exchanged a glance, a look of mutual respect and understanding. Captain Strand spoke up, folding his arms with a half smile. "Eli, it's not an easy path, you know. This line of work demands everything from you, and sometimes more than you think you can give."

I nodded, a hint of determination in my eyes. "I'm ready, Cap. I may not have experience, but I've got the motivation and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to learn."

Captain Vega's expression softened as she stepped forward. "Well, first things first, you'll need some training. It won't be easy, and it won't happen overnight. We'll send you to the academy for the paramedic course. If you're still sure after that, you'll have a place here with us."

My heart surged with excitement. "Thank you Cap. I won't let you down."

--

A week later, I found myself standing at the doors of the training academy. The next few months would be a whirlwind of coursework, practical trainings, and skills tests. On the first day, as I walked into the classroom, I noticed someone who looked vaguely familiar, a young man with intense eyes and an easygoing smile. He glanced over at me and extended a hand.

"Hey, I'm Ravi. Ravi Panikkar, from the 118 in Los Angeles."

I shook his hand, laughing a little as I introduced myself. "Eli Hayes, from Austin. So, 118? That's Captain Nash's team, right?"

Ravi nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah Captain Nash himself. It's... an experience, let's say." He laughed, then gave me a knowing look. "And 126... you're with Captain Strand, right? What's that like?"

I chuckled, realizing that the 126 and 118 shared similar legends. "Oh, you know... he's got a few quirks. His skin care routine is something you don't want to get in the way of. But he's an amazing captain!"

Ravi let out a hearty laugh, nodding in agreement. "Tell me about it! Captain Nash is like that too. Stoic, but the first one to dive into danger. And I swear he's got an endless stash of firehouse approved meal recipes. We all loved his dishes, Cap is like our firehouse chef!"

The camaraderie between us grew quickly, with stories shared about our respective teams. We laughed over the antics, the close calls, and the unique personalities that filled our stations. It felt reassuring, knowing that even across states, the experience of being part of a firehouse family was something universal.

During the grueling weeks of training, Ravi and I found humor - and maybe a little too often. It started with the small things. One day, during our module on the principles of fracture management, we were supposed to be practicing splinting techniques. 

Ravi nudged me, whispering, "Hey, you think they make these bandages in different colors? Like maybe firefighter red?" I smirked, trying not to laugh, but of course, the trainer noticed.

"Mr Hayes, Mr Panikkar, anything you'd like to share with the rest of the class?" The instructor said, giving us that deadly serious stare. We both shook our heads, stifling our laughter until our faces went red. "No Sir. All's good Sir," we muttered simultaneously.

As the days passed, it only got worse. In one scenario, we were supposed to simulate a serious car accident, complete with mock injuries, fake blood, and a very realistic crash scene.

The trainers emphasized the importance of staying focused, taking everything seriously, and handling each aspect of the situation as if it were real.

However, Ravi, with his usual humor, could not resist sneaking in a few more remarks to keep things light.

"Hey, Eli," he whispered as we approached the simulated scene. "Do you think the victim knows it's just ketchup he's covered in?"

I smirked, trying to hold back a chuckle. "I don't know, but his acting is OSCAR WORTHY ." I whispered back, nodding towards one of the trainers pretending to be the "victim" moaning dramatically in the wrecked car.

"Pretty sure I've seen this level of performance on reality TV."

Ravi grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "And look at us, maybe if this whole paramedic thing doesn't work out, we could go into special effects or even acting!"

Just then, our trainer gave us a stern and sharp look. "Are you two comedians here to save lives or to perform a stand up show?"

"Uh, sorry, Sir," Ravi and I replied together, stifling our laughs once again. We tried to focus, moving through the procedures to stabilize and extract our 'victim'.

As we worked, Ravi glanced over and murmured to me again, "Next time we shall practice on someone's dinner plate, maybe. We can add fries. You know for authenticity."

Our back and forth banter continued even through serious practice sessions, where we eventually became each other's laughing pill. Through all the laughs, I found that our shared humor was exactly what I needed. Ravi had become my anchor, keeping me grounded in a world that could feel too heavy at times. Each joke, each shared smile reminded me that even in the darkest moments, there was always light to be found.

--

One intense day in training, an incident occurred that put everything Ravi and I had been learning to the test. It was supposed to be a routine practice drill with mock emergencies set up around the academy, but an unexpected situation turned real in the blink of an eye.

A fellow trainee had been attempting a high angle rescue simulation and while descending, slipped and lost his grip on the rope. He hit the ground hard, rolling and lying still on the concrete, clearly disoriented and in pain. The shouts of "man down" jolted Ravi and me into immediate action.

Without a second thought, we sprinted over, dropping to our knees beside the fallen trainee as the rest of the class cleared a path.

"Let's check ABCs," I said to Ravi, our adrenaline high but our focus laser sharp.

Ravi nodded, immediately checking for airway obstruction while I assessed his pulse. The trainee's breathing was shallow, but he had a weak pulse, enough for us to start basic procedures without fear of losing him instantly.

"We've got a pulse, but his breathing is shallow," I reported, reaching for the trauma kit one of the other trainees handed us. "Ravi, can you get an oxygen mask?" He nodded, quickly grabbing the mask, securing it over the trainee's nose and mouth, and adjusting the oxygen flow.

"Sam, can you hear me?" I asked, gently tapping his shoulder. He gave a faint groan, his eyes fluttering slightly, a sign he was semi-conscious but clearly disoriented from the fall.

"Possible head injury," Ravi muttered. "Should we immobilize the neck?"

I nodded. "Good call, Ravi."

We swiftly positioned a cervical collar around Sam's neck to prevent any further spinal damage. I stabilized his head while Ravi carefully adjusted the collar, ensuring it was snug but not too tight.

One of our instructors, who had called for EMS, ran over to assist and quickly took over the airway management as Ravi and I reported the steps we had taken so far.

"Excellent work on stabilizing his airway and securing the neck," the instructor said, nodding in approval. "Hayes, Panikkar, stay with him while EMS arrives."

As Ravi and I loaded Sam into the ambulance, the adrenaline was wearing off, but the tension in the air was thick. We rode along, keeping Sam stable and talking to him to keep him awake. Ravi kept him engaged with another steady stream of jokes and reassurances.

When we finally arrived at the hospital, I hopped out first, but I froze in surprise when I spotted Captain Strand and the 126 crew standing outside the ER doors.

"Captain Strand? What are you guys doing here?" I asked, almost laughing at the timing.

Owen chuckled and replied, "We were out on call just a few blocks away from here and had to transport our own victim. Looked over and thought, "I saw a familiar figure and here you are!"

Just then, T.K. stepped up and spotted Ravi stepping out of the ambulance beside me. His eyebrows shot up in curiosity. "Who's your partner in crime here?"

I grinned and gestured to Ravi. "This is Ravi Panikkar, from the 118 firehouse in L.A. He's been my go-to partner for all things chaotic at the academy. Ravi, meet the 126 crew."

Captain Strand stepped forward, reaching out to shake Ravi's hand. "Captain Owen Strand, welcome to Austin. Heard a lot about the 118 and their...colorful reputation!"

Ravi chuckled, giving a firm handshake. "Nice being able to finally meet you, Captain Strand. And, yeah, we've got our share of 'colorful' moments. I think Eli and I are giving the instructors there a headache with our banter though."

Marjan, standing just behind Owen, looked between Ravi and Mateo and her eyes twinkled with mischief. "You know, Captain Strand, what do you think of swapping probies? I say we take Ravi, and you send Mateo over to the 118." She winked, folding her arms. "Think of it as a trade. Austin might just need a little more L.A energy."

Mateo's eyes went wide. "Wait, what? Swap me out? Marjan, you wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, I would," she teased. "Nothing personal, probie, just exploring options." Judd folded his arms, laughing. "Ravi, you up to join us?"

Ravi played along, grinning. "Well, I don't know if L.A.'s ready for Mateo's unique flair. But hey, I'd take one for the team if it meant keeping Marjan and the team happy."

Mateo groaned, throwing his hands up. "Alright, alright, message received. Guess I'm stuck here with y'all."

Captain Strand chuckled, patting Ravi on the shoulder. "Don't listen to them, Ravi. Mateo's one of a kind and we intend to keep him that way. But we might just have to borrow you once in a while to keep things interesting."

--

As the final day of the paramedic training course drew near, the mood among the trainees was a mix of exhaustion and relief, but for Ravi and I, there was an underlying sense of reluctance. We had spent countless hours together, working side by side, cracking jokes and even getting scolded for talking too much. It was hard to believe that all of it was about to come to an end.

I threw my gym bag over my shoulder, watching as Ravi finished packing his things. His usual grin was gone, replaced by a contemplative look. I could tell there was something else behind his eyes - a similar reluctance I felt.

"Hey, Ravi," I said, trying to lighten the mood with a smile. "You ready to leave this paradise behind?"

He shot me a sidelong glance. "You kidding? I'll miss the sound of that instructor's voice. You know, the one that sounds like a broken record?" He paused, then added with a smile, "But seriously, I'm going to miss this. You and I, tearing through the training like we owned the place."

I chuckled, throwing the bag onto the backseat of the car. "Yeah, the way we talked too much and get scolded every five minutes. Classic."

Ravi's eyes softened, and for a moment, we were both quiet, as the training course came to an end. "I'm gonna miss you man." he said, his voice a little more serious now. "We've been through a lot together and I couldn't have asked for a better partner."

"Same here," I replied. "And I mean it. Once this is over, we'll have to make sure we work together in the field. The 118 and 126... we need a crossover. You're stuck with me now, Panikkar."

He grinned widely, his expression lightened again. "A crossover, huh? That's a good idea. I'll hold you to that. Just don't go getting too cozy with the 126 team without me."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're the first person I'd bring along for a crossover. And you better be ready when the 118 and 126 unite. I'm counting on you to back me up."

Ravi extended his hand, and I shook it firmly. "Deal. You know, when I made this decision to become a paramedic, I never imagined I'd end up with a partner like you."

We both shared a brief but meaningful silence, then, just as the instructor started calling us to gather, Ravi smirked, "But seriously, Eli, I'm counting on you to teach me about skincare and facials that you're always talking about."

I burst into laughter. "You really want to bond over that, huh? You're not ready for that level of wellness."

He shrugged with a playful glint in his eye. "Well, if we're going to be working together, I need to look good too."

"You're on your own, kid," I teased. "I'm just here to help with saving lives. As for skincare - good luck!"

We both laughed, knowing that the journey ahead would not be easy, but at least we would be facing it together. And no matter where life took us, whether with the 118 or the 126, one thing was clear: we always have each other's backs.

--

The relief and pride I felt overwhelming. When I got back to Owen's apartment, exhausted but elated, he greeted me with a proud smile.

"Welcome home, paramedic-in-training!" He said, patting me on my shoulder. I laughed, feeling a sense of accomplishment I hadn't felt in a long time. "Thanks, Owen. Really. For everything."

Later that evening, I was winding down when my phone buzzed. I glanced down and saw a text from an unknown number. The message sent a chill down my spine: " You won't be able to save everyone at the docks."

My heart skipped a beat. The cryptic warning did not make any sense, but I knew better than to ignore it. I quickly called Carlos and the rest of the 126 team over to Owen's apartment to discuss it.

Everyone soon gathered in the living room, the mood tense as we analyzed the message.

"What kind of person would send you this?" T.K. asked, frowning at the screen.

Carlos shook his head, a worried look in his eyes. "I'll have Detective Washington look into it, see if we can trace the number of find any leads on who's sending these letters and text."

Judd leaned back, folding his arms. "I don't like it. Feels like someone's messin' with you, Eli. Someone who knows too much."

Despite the eerie nature of the message, the 126 rallied around me, determined to uncover the truth.

Chapter Text

I could not shake off the ominous warning: " You won't be able to save everyone at the docks." 

Nancy's reaction to the cryptic message was immediate and dramatic. She read it once, gasped, and then burst into a torrent of Spanish and English, her voice rising in pitch with every word. 

" ¡Esto no puede ser cierto! This is crazy! ¡Una locura! Who does something like this?¡Dios mío, esto es una película de terror! " She started pacing, waving her hands in the air as if trying to physically dispel the tension. " The docks? What docks? ¡Esto no tiene sentido! Someone is messing with us - real! Ugh, I can't! " She paused mid sentence, putting her hands over her mouth when she realized everyone had gone quiet, staring at her.  

A beat of silence hung in the air. 

"Okay, okay." she said, lowering her hands and taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, guys. I just..." She gestured to the phone with exaggerated frustration. 

"Didn't mean to make it awkward." She paused, looking around at the amused and shocked faces in the room, before letting out a self conscious chuckle. "But seriously, tell me I'm not the only one who thinks this is nuts." 

Owen, standing with his arms akimbo, raised an eyebrow. "You're not wrong, Nancy. But...maybe a little less apocalyptic next time?" 

Nancy laughed again, the tension breaking just slightly. "Alright, Cap. But for real, if this turns into some CSI: Austin situation, don't say I didn't warn you." 

Owen, taking a more measured approach, stood thoughtfully by the message on my phone, raising his eyebrows again. "Docks? Which docks? Austin doesn't exactly have a massive port system like Houston," he mused, trying to piece it together. "Whoever sent this clearly knew what would get to you, Eli. But where could they mean?" 

"I have no idea," I replied, feeling the weight of Nancy's anxiety and Owen's concern. "That's why it's so disturbing. It's rather vague, like they're watching and know what would get under my skin." 

Owen nodded, his expression serious. "Well, if they're targeting first responders, it could be any area where we'd respond to an emergency. Maybe a warehouse, or a remote location where our teams could be vulnerable." 

--

The next morning before my shift, I went to the police department to speak with Detective Washington. I needed clarity about who might be behind the message and whether she had uncovered anything else about Nathan Caldwell - the former aircraft engineer suspected of tampering with the plane's mechanic, claiming my parents' lives and the others. 

When I showed her the message, she examined it with a serious expression. "This is concerning, Eli. A threat like this isn't something we take lightly, and given what we know about Caldwell..." She trailed off, then caught herself. "I'll have our tech team dig into it and see if we can trace it back to a specific number, we'll try our very best." 

"And what about the letters I received?" I asked, hoping she had answers. 

Detective Washington hesitated, her gaze briefly darting away before she composed herself. "They're still being analyzed. For cases involving handwriting matching, the process can be...lengthy. But don't worry there, we're still working on it." 

I felt slightly uneasy given that she had those letters for weeks now, and I wondered why they still got no matches with anyone. I looked at Carlos for reassurance, he gave me a slight nod. "It's normal for analysis to take time, especially if they're being thorough," he offered. "Try not to read too much into it." 

After my conversation with Detective Washington, Carlos dropped me off at the dispatch center, where Josh and Sue met me with wide grins.

"So," Josh started, leaning casually against my desk, "we hear you're about to trade in this headset for a set of surgical gloves. Planning on giving us a farewell speech?" 

I blinked, surprised. "Wait... how did you two know? I didn't even get a chance to chat with you two." 

Sue chuckled. "Your academy instructor called 9-1-1 the day when you saved the life of your fellow trainee. Guess who picked up the call?" 

"You?" I asked with a grin. 

"Bingo!" she replied, shaking her head in disbelief. "He couldn't stop talking about how you and Ravi saved Sam's life. And speaking of Ravi, we both know him from L.A. You know Josh and I started in the L.A dispatch center right? We're all too familiar with the 118 crew." 

I laughed, feeling a wave of nostalgia mixed with excitement. "Wow, what a small world. I can't believe it's my last week here. Feels... unbelievable and surreal." 

Josh clapped me on the shoulder. "Well, you're gonna crush it with the 126. But remember, if you ever miss us, we're just one call away." 

"Yes, and that number is... 9-1-1." I replied, as I took a deep breath. I settled into my desk and adjusted my headset. As the call came in, I was ready to respond. But nothing could have prepared me for what's to come. 

[9-1-1 call recording officially begins]

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" I asked, expecting the usual call, but the voice on the other end had a nervous, frantic edge. 

" There's... there's two men fighting over me ," a woman's voice stammered. " They're in... hot air balloons. Over by Isabelle Drive. They have guns " 

I sat up straight and replied, " Ma'am, did you just say they're fighting in hot air balloons, with guns ?" 

" Yes! They're hovering in the sky, yelling at each other, and now they're pointing guns at each other !" she exclaimed, the panic clear in her voice. 

I glanced over at Josh, who gave me an incredulous look. "Please don't tell me this is actually happening, what in the world?" 

"Ma'am, stay calm," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Can you describe where you are?" 

"I'm...on the ground watching," she said, her voice trembling. "One of them just fired a shot! Oh my god!" 

A burst of gunfire echoed in the background, and I tensed. "Ma'am, please get to a safe distance, Help is on the way." 

Another shot rang out, and the woman screamed. "The balloon - it's on fire! One of them hit the other's balloon, and now it's going down!" 

"Hold on, help is coming!" I reassured her, then quickly patched through to the 126 team and Carlos. 

Within minutes, the 126 team arrived at the scene. The wreckage of the hot air balloon lay smouldering in the open field, flames licking at the torn fabric and twisted basket frame. Captain Strand took charge, assessing the scene. 

"Captain Strand, we're gonna need an extraction plan here," Tommy called to Owen, who was already directing the team on the best approach to safely reach the man. 

"Paul, Marjan - set up a fire line and keep those flames from spreading to the fuel tanks. EMS - prepare to stabilize the victim once we have him out." 

The faint moans of the injured man could be heard beneath the crackling of the fire, urging the team to move quickly. 

Captain Strand and Judd coordinated the rescue, carefully navigating the debris to avoid further collapse. The man's legs were pinned beneath a heavy section of the basket frame, and the heat from the fire made it dangerous to approach without proper protection. 

"Mateo, get the hydraulic spreaders from the truck," Owen instructed. Mateo returned moments later with the tool, and Judd positioned himself to operate it while Owen monitored the structure's stability. 

"Hold steady, buddy," Judd muttered as the hydraulic spreaders whirred to life, prying apart the mangled metal frame trapping the man's legs. 

Marjan and Paul quickly moved in with the fire hose, dousing the remaining flames near the man to ensure the area was safe for Captain Vega, T.K. and Nancy to work on him. 

Nancy and T.K. were the first to reach the victim, who was semi conscious and groaning in pain. His face was pale, and his breathing was shallow. Nancy assessed his condition with precision. 

"Second degree burns on his arms and chest, possible fractures to both legs," she said, her voice calm but urgent. "We need to secure his airway. His breathing is labored, could be internal injuries or smoke inhalation." 

T.K. immediately grabbed a portable oxygen mask from the kit and gently placed it over the man's face. "Let's get his oxygen levels up," T.K. said, adjusting the flow rate. 

Captain Vega soon joined them, kneeling beside the victim. "Let's immobilize his spine and get a collar on him. We don't know what kind of spinal injuries he might have from the fall," she instructed. 

T.K. handed Nancy a cervical collar, and she carefully placed it around the man's neck, ensuring minimal movement. Captain Vega began setting up an IV line. "We need fluids to stabilize his blood pressure. Nancy, get a saline bag going. T.K., check for additional injuries." 

As Nancy connected the IV, T.K. carefully palpated the man's torso, noting a rigid abdomen. "He's guarding his right side, possible internal bleeding there." T.K. reported. 

"Copy that. I'll let the nearby trauma center know in advance." Captain Vega added as she excused herself and radioed the trauma team at the hospital.

T.K. recorded notes on his injuries and treatments administered so far. "BP is stabilizing at 90/60, but he's still tachycardic at 130. We need to move fast."

As they secured the injured man onto a stretcher, the other hot air balloon finally descended to the ground. The second man, who had been the aggressor, stepped out with a smug grin, ready to embrace the woman, only for her to slap him hard across the face. 

"You idiot! You nearly killed him! We're done!" she yelled, fury replacing the earlier fear in her voice. 

Officer Reyes, who had been watching the entire scene unfold, moved in and arrested the man. "You're under arrest for reckless endangerment and discharging a firearm," he said, snapping on the handcuffs as he read the man his rights. 

"126, this is Dispatch," I began, trying to keep my voice steady after the chaotic ordeal. "Status update?"

"Victim is en route to St. David's, alive but critical, aggressor's been arrested." Captain Vega replied. "Great coordination from everyone out here." 

"Copy that, 126," I said, letting out a small sigh of relief. 

Before I could continue with my sentence, Mateo's voice came through. "Dispatch, remind me to never go near a hot air balloon again. That thing went down faster than Judd's mood when he ran out of caffeine!" 

There was a pause, and then Captain Strand's voice cut in, his tone a mix of warning and exasperation. "Mateo, you do realize you're on a universal channel, right? Everyone can hear you. Including Chief Radford." 

There was a dead silence there. 

Then Marjan chimed in, her voice filled with sarcasm. "Oh, great, probie. Now the entire department knows you're a comedian. Maybe you should take this act on tour. I present to you, Mateo Chavez, hot air and bad jokes." 

Paul added, "If you're lucky, Chief Radford may promote you... straight into the comedy circuit . You'll be performing at balloon festivals nationwide." 

"Hey, my jokes land better than that hot air balloon did," Mateo quipped, clearly doubling down despite Captain Strand's earlier warning. 

At this point, I could not help myself. I pressed the button to reply, a grin spreading across my face. "Ummm...126, this is Dispatch. Just a friendly reminder that Judd's on this channel too. Good luck dealing with him when you get back, Mateo." 

Laughter erupted over the line, except for Judd, who was suspiciously silent. Finally, his voice cut in. "Probie, I suggest you walk into the station and hand me a coffee before I hear another word outta you." 

"Y'all, I was just trying to lighten the mood!" Mateo defended. Captain Strand's voice came back, his tone laced with weary amusement. "Alright, alright, that's enough. Dispatch, apologies for the circus act. Let's keep the airwaves professional, shall we? And now, back to the station. Over and out." 

"126, copy that, stay safe out there." I smiled as I ended the transmission. Moments like these always reminded me why I loved being part of this team, even from behind my loads of computer screens and a headset. 

-- 

The day finally began to wind down after the chaos of that hot air balloon incident. But I still could not shake the lingering unease from that cryptic message . After my shift ended, I decided to pay Detective Washington one last visit to see if there were any updates on the investigation. 

When I walked into her office, she looked up, her expression immediately guarded. She fumbled with the files on her desk, avoiding my gaze. 

"Detective Washington, sorry to show up uninvited again... I really just want to check in on any additional leads regarding the message and Caldwell's connection to the case," I added. She looked back up at me with a smile and replied, "Eli, just... trust the process. I know this is very frustrating for you, wanting to find answers and get closure to move on. But these things take time and I don't want to raise any expectations prematurely. We're doing everything we can. We'll let you know as soon as we have something concrete." 

I left her office with more questions than answers, the uncertainty settling deep in my chest. As I made my way back to Owen's apartment, the message played over and over in my head. 

Little did I know, that message was only the beginning of the dark days that lay ahead. 

-- 

" 9-1-1, what's your emergency ?" 

" There's a firefighter, he's been stabbed! Someone attacked him out of nowhere. He's bleeding, oh god, there's so much blood !" 

" Fire truck explosion, Unit 124. They were driving to a call and it just blew up! There are firefighters injured all over the road !" 

" Dispatch, this is Officer Reed. We've been ambushed on East 9th, I think it's a coordinated attack! Seeking additional assistance ASAP !" 

" Captain Strand, we're receiving multiple calls about coordinated attacks on first responders. Stay alert - it seems someone is targeting us. "

Chapter Text

The air in the dispatch room hummed with an electric tension, a mixture of anticipation and routine chaos that came with every shift. But this was my last day, and I was not prepared for how unsettling that thought would be. Every keystroke felt heavier, every call more bizarre, as if the weight of the moment in my life pressed down on me. 

A call then came through, breaking my thoughts. I slipped on my headset and answered, "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" 

A familiar voice, raw with pain and fear came through, "Dispatch, this is Officer Harris, Badge 42. I've been stabbed near East Fourth and Main. Backup needed, please hurry - they're coming back..." 

The line went dead. 

I stared at the screen, adrenaline spiking. My fingers flew over the keyboard, logging the emergency and patching through to nearby units. "126, this is Dispatch. We have an injured officer at East Fourth and Main. He's been stabbed and ambushed. Approach with extreme caution. Any other units nearby, please respond." 

"Copy that, Dispatch," Captain Strand's voice came through, steady and commanding. 

"Dispatch, this is 363-H-20," Carlos added. "I'm on my way. Keep me updated." 

As their GPS icons lit up and began moving toward the scene, I replayed the call in my mind. The fear in Officer Harris's voice - I felt it. Something about this didn't feel real. 

Minutes later, the radio crackled again. 

"Dispatch, 126 on scene," Captain Strand reported. "We've located Officer Harris. Multiple stab wounds to the torso and arm. Conscious but drifting off." 

"T.K., Nancy, move!" Captain Vega's voice commanded in the background. 

"Sir, can you hear me?" T.K.'s calm yet urgent voice came through. "Stay with us. Let's get the tourniquet on his arm, the upper bicep. Paul and Mateo, can you guys help us to secure the perimeter." 

Officer Reyes' voice followed. "Dispatch, no sign of the assailants. Checking the alley to the north." 

My pulse quickened. "Copy that, 363-H-20. Be advised, APD units are en route for backup." 

"IV started. Nancy, we need to get him loaded up. Pulse is weak, BP dropping fast." T.K. updated. 

"Airway clear," Nancy added. "He's stable for now, but we've got to move." 

"Dispatch," Officer Reyes' voice broke in again, sharper this time. "I've got movement in the north alley, two individuals fleeing eastbound. Possible suspects." 

I immediately patched through to the APD units. "All units, be advised. Suspects fleeing eastbound from East Fourth and Main. 363-H-20 is in pursuit on foot." 

Back at my desk, I tried to shake the tension, but the next few hours only added fuel to fire. One after another, bizarre 9-1-1 calls flooded in. A firefighter was ambushed at a station while stepping out to check the engine. EMT crews cornered in their ambulance, their tires slashed. Every incident pointed to a coordinated effort, yet the perpetrators remained unseen, vanishing like ghosts. 

As Sue and Josh approached my desk, the door to the dispatch center opened, and in walked Gabriel Reyes . Even in civilian attire, Carlos' dad had an authoritative air that made the room quiet instantly. As a senior member of the Texas Rangers division, his presence here was not just unusual - it was alarming ! 

"Sir," Sue greeted him, her tone professional but warm. "What brings you to our little corner of the chaos?" 

"Unfortunately, it's not a social visit," Gabriel added, his expression serious. He scanned the room, his eyes briefly meeting mine before addressing the team. "I'm here about the attacks on first responders." 

Josh turned to look at him, his curiosity piqued. "You mean the ambushes? What's going on?" 

Gabriel nodded. "That's exactly it. We've been investigating the incidents, and so far the pattern is clear. This is coordinated. Multiple assailants, targeting first responders at vulnerable moments - firefighters, EMTs and now even police officers. These aren't isolated cases." 

Sue folded her arms, her brow furrowing. "Coordinated by whom? Any leads?" 

Gabriel's jaw tightened. "That's the problem. My colleagues and I have reviewed the CCTV footage from the areas surrounding the attacks, but the suspects aren't showing up on any of it. They know where the cameras are and how to avoid them . It's as if they've mapped out every blind spot." 

Josh let out a low whistle. "That's...unnerving. They'd need serious knowledge of the city's infrastructure for something like that." 

Gabriel nodded again. "Exactly, which means we're dealing with people who are not only experienced but also methodical. These people know what they're doing." 

Sue exchanged a glance with me. "And they're targeting the very people meant to help." 

"Sir, what do you need from us?" I asked, leaning forward. 

"For now, keep your eyes and ears open for anything unusual ," Gabriel said. "I've already asked my team to double check nearby businesses and private residences for any non-public cameras that might have caught something. If you hear anything, any detail that seems off, flag it to me and my team immediately." 

As Gabriel turned to leave, he paused by the door and added "Stay safe. Remember that this thing - it feels personal." 

Carlos' voice crackled through the radio, checking in after an ambush call. His calm, measured tone masking the chaos of the situation he was navigating. But when he came over to the dispatch center for a short debrief with us, his frustration was evident. 

"We're missing something," Carlos muttered, pacing near my desk. "These attacks - they're too coordinated. Someone has to be orchestrating this." 

I glanced at him. "What's the next step? Your dad and the Rangers are all over the CCTV, but..." 

Carlos nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. "It's not enough. I need to see if Detective Washington has anything. If anyone had additional insights, it would be her. Carlos pulled out his phone and stepped aside to make the call." 

I could hear the faint tone of his voice as he dialed. "Detective Washington? It's Officer Reyes. I need to touch base with you, there's been a series of ambushes on first responders." He paused, listening and his expression darkened. 

"What do you mean you're out of the office ?" Carlos asked, his tone tightening. "This is urgent. People are getting hurt!" 

He stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose as he paced. I watched as his frustration grew. "I get it, you're working another case, but this isn't just random violence. Whoever's behind this is targeting us. First responders, detectives - nobody's safe." 

Another pause and then with a clipped, professional tone, Carlos said "Understood. Let me know the moment you're free." He hung up and let out a breath, shaking his head. 

"She's tied up with another client," Carlos replied, feeling irritated. "Said she's working a separate case and can't step away right now." 

Josh, who had been eavesdropping while pretending to organize paperwork, chimed in. "Separate case? Doesn't she know what's happening out there right now?" 

Carlos's jaw tightened. "She knows. I told her how severe this is, but she's still sticking to whatever she's doing and I don't like it." 

Sue joined us, her arms crossed. "Detective Washington's good at what she does. If she says she can't step away, she probably has a reason. Still, I agree with you, Officer Reyes. This situation is escalating fast, and we need everyone on the same page." 

Carlos nodded, though his expression didn't soften. "I'll try her again later. Right now, we've got work to do." 

The relentless flurry of calls continued well into the evening, and despite it being my last shift, I stayed to help out. The dispatch center was humming with activity, each ring a reminder of the chaos unfolding outside. Sue and Josh, equally worn out, suggested we order takeout to keep our energy up. 

"What are we thinking? Tacos or pizza?" Josh asked, scrolling through menus on his phone. 

"Tacos," Sue and I replied together, earning a grin from him. 

As the aroma of freshly delivered food filled the room, Carlos arrived and pulled up a chair at our desk. For a moment, it felt almost normal, as if the weight of the day could be set aside. We unpacked the wrapper, our conversation light despite the undercurrent of tension. 

Just as I bit into my first taco, Carlos's phone buzzed on the desk. He glanced at the screen, his brows furrowing as he answered. "Detective Washington?" 

His tone shifted immediately, concern lacing his words. "What, what? Calm down, what happened?" 

Sue and I exchanged worried looks as Carlos listened intently. "Stay where you are. We're on our way." He ended the call and stood up abruptly, his expression concerned. 

"What's going on?" I asked, setting my food down. 

"It's Detective Washington," Carlos said, his voice tight. "She said Caldwell and his gang broke into her house. She needs assistance now." 

I immediately grabbed the radio to update Owen and the rest of the 126. "Captain Strand, this is Dispatch. We have a situation at Detective Washington's residence. Possible break in by unknown assailants. Requesting immediate response." 

"Copy that," Owen replied. "We're en route." 

Carlos and I piled into his car, and Sue and Josh wished us luck as we sped off. The ride was tense, the streets blurring under the dim street lights as Carlos gripped the wheel, his jaw set. Along the way, I updated Gabriel on the break in to keep him updated. 

Detective Washington's house was in chaos when we arrived. The front door was ajar, and shards of glass littered the entryway. The furniture was overturned, papers scattered across the floor. It was the picture of a violent break in. 

Detective Washington was sitting on the couch, her hands trembling as she clutched a glass of water. She was not physically injured, but the shock was written all over her face. 

Captain Strand, Captain Vega, T.K., Nancy and the rest of the team entered the house, taking in the scene with wary eyes. 

"Detective, are you hurt?" Carlos asked, kneeling beside her. 

She shook her head, her voice shaky. "No, I'm okay. They didn't touch me, but they... they destroyed everything. Caldwell and his people, they were here." 

Caldwell . The name alone was enough to trigger a rush of fear and confusion. How could it be him? 

"I don't have the whole picture yet, but..." Detective Washington paused, taking a deep breath, "based on our investigations, it was Caldwell who sent the cryptic message to you."

My heart stopped for a second. The pieces started to click together in the worst possible way. I felt lightheaded, struggling to process the gravity of what she said. I had no idea how to react, but a sinking feeling in my gut told me that this was only the beginning of something worse. 

Owen noticed my reaction immediately. "Eli, you know this guy?" His voice was firm, as if he was trying to steady me. 

Carlos placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder before turning to the rest of the team. " Nathan Caldwell, " he began, his tone dark. "He's not just some random criminal. He used to be an aircraft engineer, a good one. He's responsible for taking down the flight that claimed the lives of Eli's parents and 198 others." 

"I'm sorry, Eli." The team comforted me as I held back my tears. Carlos's hand tightened on my shoulder, as if he could feel my shock. He was visibly upset, his jaw clenched, but his concern for me outweighed his own fears. Detective Washington continued, her voice becoming steadier as she went on. 

"I know it sounds impossible," she said, her eyes locking with mine. "But we've traced the phone number that sent that message. Caldwell used a burner phone. That's how he did it. He knew how to keep his tracks covered." She paused, her eyes darting to Carlos. "He's been careful, hiding in plain sight. That's why we couldn't trace him sooner." 

I was overwhelmed with a new question: How did he even get my phone number? The thought gnawed at me. 

I turned to her, my voice cracking despite my best attempt to stay composed. "How did he get my number? How could he even have it?" 

Detective Washington's gaze shifted to the floor for a brief moment, as if she was considering how much to reveal. When she looked up again, there was a certain bitterness in her expression. "He's an aircraft engineer, or at least he used to be. He knows how to decrypt and bypass things. It's... not as simple as it seems. He's used those skills in the past, and he must have had access to databases or systems that allowed him to get that kind of information. 

The revelation left me reeling. Aircraft engineer? How does that translate to knowing how to get personal information? The connection didn't make sense to me, and I could tell from the looks exchanged between the team that they don't fully understand either. 

Her explanation felt thin, like she was skating over the crucial details. But before I could press further, Captain Vega stepped in. "Detective, we're going to take you to the hospital to make sure you're okay. The paramedics are here." 

As Nancy and T.K. helped her to her feet, Owen gestured for the rest of us to stay behind and assess the house. 

We split up to comb through the scene. Carlos moved through the living room while Marjan and Paul examined the back rooms. I stayed near the entrance door with Owen, studying the mess with a growing sense of unease. 

"This doesn't feel right." I muttered. 

Owen nodded, his eyes scanning the room. "I was thinking the same thing. It's almost too perfect . Glass shattered, furniture overturned, it's like someone wanted it to scream 'break in'." 

Carlos returned, holding up a picture frame that had been knocked to the floor. "The photos are intact. If this were a real break in, wouldn't they have taken personal items? Jewelry, electronics?" 

Paul's voice called out from the kitchen. "Guys, the fridge is untouched too. Not even the cash jar on the counter was touched. If this was Caldwell's crew, they weren't here to steal." 

"They were here to send a message," Marjan said, her tone grave as she rejoined us. 

Owen folded his arms, his expression darkening. "Or make it look like they were." 

The house break in felt staged, a calculated scene designed to mislead. It raised more questions than answers. 

"What's our next move, Officer Reyes?" I asked, looking at Carlos. 

"We wait for updates from the hospital," Carlos said, though his voice lacked conviction. "But something about her story doesn't add up." 

"Her claim about Caldwell knowing how to bypass things," I added. "It makes sense on paper, but it doesn't explain how. An aircraft engineer repairs and settles aircraft parts, how does that relate to attaining my phone number? I don't think he had what it takes." 

Owen placed a hand on my shoulder. "We'll figure it out together. Whatever's going on here, we're not letting it slide that easily."

Chapter Text

After the chaos of the day, I found myself too drained to go home, both mentally and physically. As I packed up at the dispatch center, I called Owen to let him know I wouldn't be heading back to his place.

"Hey, Captain Strand," I said, my voice still hoarse from the events of the evening. "I'm going to stay at T.K.'s place tonight. We need to debrief about everything that happened, and honestly, I don't want to be alone right now."

Owen did not hesitate. "That's a good idea. Stay with them. You've been through a lot, and I trust Carlos and T.K. to look out for you. Keep me posted if anything comes up, alright?"

"Will do, Cap," I replied before hanging up. Carlos and T.K. welcomed me in without question. T.K. handed me a spare blanket and pillow for the guest room, and Carlos brewed some tea while we gathered in the living room.

The tension in the air was palpable as we began dissecting the events of the day. "How's Detective Washington?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Carlos leaned back in his seat, rubbing his temples. "Stable, according to the hospital. But she's still in shock. What happened at her house..." He shook his head. "It was calculated and the fact that Caldwell's name keeps coming up, it's no coincidence."

T.K. nodded, his eyes fixed on me. "Do you think the attacks and the messages are connected? It's hard to ignore the pattern."

"I don't know," I admitted. "But it feels like he's always one step ahead. The way he's managed to orchestrate all of these without getting caught, it's terrifying."

Carlos sighed, his brow furrowing. "We'll catch him," he said, his voice resolute. "It's just a matter of time."

As the night deepened, the three of us decided to call it a night. Carlos and T.K. went to their room, and I retreated to the guest room, exhaustion pulling me under.

It was a little past midnight when Carlos's phone buzzed on the nightstand, breaking the quiet of the bedroom as Carlos picked up the phone, squinting at the glowing screen.

"What is it, babe?" T.K. asked groggily, propping himself up on one elbow. Carlos frowned, holding up the phone. "I just got a dispatch text. There's an incident at a storage facility near 3519 East Commerce Avenue . They're requesting assistance as soon as possible."

T.K. blinked, his sleepiness quickly giving way to concern. "A dispatch text? Babe, that's not normal. Calls don't come in like that."

"I know it's not normal, T.K.," Carlos said, sitting up. "But with everything going on, APD might be testing out new protocols. They could be sending out texts to minimize open radio communications to avoid tipping off whoever's behind these attacks."

T.K. shook his head, his unease growing. "It doesn't make sense. If they're changing protocols, you'd know about it. You're a police officer, babe. You'd be informed before something like this started happening."

Carlos sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What if it's real, T.K.? What if someone actually needs help? I can't just ignore it."

"And what if it's a trap?" T.K. countered, his tone sharp. "We've had first responders ambushed all day. Whoever is behind this knows what they're doing. If you got out there, you could be walking into something we can't get you of."

Carlos hesitated, as he battled with his thoughts. "But what if I don't go, and someone gets hurt because of it? I couldn't live with that."

T.K. leaned forward, placing a hand on Carlos's arm. "I get it, babe. You want to help. But this doesn't feel right. Please, just stay. We can figure it out in the morning."

Carlos looked at his husband, his resolve softening slightly. He nodded. "Okay, you're right. I'll stay. Let's get some sleep."

Satisfied, T.K. lay back down, watching as Carlos set his phone back on the nightstand. But even as they tried to sleep, the tension in the air was palpable, neither of them truly at ease.

--

In the middle of the night, T.K. woke up to a strange stillness in the room. Instinctively, he reached out to Carlos's side of the bed, but his hand met cool sheets instead of his husband's warmth. His eyes snapped open, his heart already picking up its pace.

"Babe?" he called into the quiet. No answer.

He sat up, running a hand through his messy hair as his worry grew. "Carlos?" he called again, louder this time. Still nothing.

Realizing something was off, T.K. slipped out of bed and padded down the hallway, checking the kitchen and the living room. The house was silent, except the faint hum of the refrigerator. Carlos was nowhere to be seen.

Without hesitation, he pushed the guest room door open, finding me asleep under the dim glow of the nightlight. "Hey Eli, wake up," T.K. said, gently shaking my shoulder.

I fidgeted, groaning as I sat up groggily. "What's going on, T.K.? What time is it?"

"It's Carlos," T.K. said, his voice tight with urgency. "He's not here. He got a suspicious dispatch text earlier about an incident at a storage facility ."

The mention of Carlos and a ‘weird text’ jolted me fully awake. My mind raced as I processed his words. "Wait, what? A text? What kind of dispatch text? Why didn't he wake me up?"

T.K. rubbed his temple, pacing the small room. "It was a dispatch text. About an incident at some storage facility. I told him not to go. I thought I convinced him to stay, but clearly, he didn't listen."

A heavy weight dropped into my stomach. "So he went there alone? T.K., what if it's ... "

I swung my legs over the bed, but as I stood, a wave of dizziness and tightness gripped my chest. My breathing shallow and fast , as panic began to overcome me.

"T.K.," I gasped, clutching at my chest. "I... I can't breathe."

T.K. immediately crouched in front of me, his hands firm yet gentle on my shoulders. "Hey, hey, look at me," he said, his voice low and steady. "It's okay, Eli. You're having a panic attack. I've got you."

"I...I can't," I stammered, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

"Yes, you can," T.K. said firmly. "You've done this before. Just focus on me. Breathe in for four counts, okay? One, two, three, four. Now out, slowly. One, two, three, four."

I tried to match his rhythm and pace, though my chest still felt heavy. T.K. continued, "Good, Eli. That's it. You're doing great. We'll take this one step at a time. Carlos needs us, but we can't help him if you're not okay first."

After a few minutes, my breathing began to even out, the world no longer spinning as violently as before. I nodded shakily, wiping at the tears. "I'm better now," I whispered.

T.K. gave me a reassuring smile, squeezing my shoulder. "We'll take it slow. But we need to go!"

We hurried to the car, the urgency of the situation propelling us forward. As T.K. drove towards the storage facility, my hands clenched into fists in my lap. Fear for Carlos loomed large in my mind, but so did the gnawing suspicion that Caldwell was behind this. I prayed we weren't already too late.

The drive to the storage facility felt agonizingly long, though in reality, it only took about fifteen minutes. Neither T.K. nor I spoke much, every possible worst case scenario played on a loop in my mind, tightening the grip of fear on my chest.

When we turned onto the dimly lit road leading to the address in the dispatch text, my breath hitched. The faint glow of a street lamp illuminated by a parked police car just outside of the storage facility's gates.

"That's Carlos' cruiser," T.K. said. He pulled the car to a stop a safe distance away, and we both sat there for a moment, staring at the eerily quiet scene before us. The facility was a sprawling lot of rectangular units, their roll up doors shadowed in darkness.

"Do you see him?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

T.K. squinted through the windshield, his gaze locking on a figure silhouetted by the dim light spilling from one of the open units. "There he is," he said, his tone a mix of relief and apprehension.

Carlos was standing inside one of the units, facing a table with what looked like papers and photographs. Even from a distance, we could tell something was wrong, his posture was tense, his shoulders were rigid.

"He looks... shocked," I murmured.

T.K. did not waste another second. "Let's go in."

We quietly exited the car, careful not to make too much noise as we approached. My heart hammered in my chest, each step feeling heavier than the previous. T.K. held out a hand to stop me as we reached the open unit.

"Carlos?" T.K. called softly, his voice steady but laced with worry.

Carlos turned sharply at the sound of his name, his face pale under the harsh fluorescent light inside the unit. His eyes widened when he saw us, and he quickly brought a finger to his lips, signalling for us to stay quiet.

"Guys, stay back," he whispered, stepping towards us with cautious movements.

"What's going on, babe? You’ve got a lot of explanations for this!" T.K. said, annoyed but lowered his voice to a whisper to match Carlos'.

Carlos glanced over his shoulder at the table, then back at us. "You guys need to see this," he said, his tone serious.

T.K. and I exchanged a look before stepping closer to the table, our breaths catching as we saw what was on the table. Photographs were spreaded out in a neat but haunting display.

Images of the entire 126 team, me, my parents, and even pictures of Carlos and T.K. at home. Beside the photos were several handwritten letters, the handwriting strikingly familiar to the two letters I received - neat and tidy.

"What the hell?" T.K. muttered, his eyes scanning the chilling collage.

"This... this is insane," I said, my voice trembling. "Why would these be here? How did they even get these pictures?"

Carlos's jaw tightened. "I don't know. But whoever did this..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the sound of footsteps echoed behind us. We froze, turning slowly to see a group of figures emerging from the shadows outside of the unit.

In the faint light, the faces became clear. At the front of the group stood Nathan Caldwell . He looked entirely ordinary and yet profoundly unsettling. His sharp, angular features gave him an almost predatory air, his disheveled hair let out an aura of calculated control. Dressed in a tailored black jacket and dark jeans, he exuded a confidence that screamed danger.

Detective Washington stood beside him, a figure transformed from the distressed woman we had found earlier to someone far more menacing.

(Yes! Tom Cavanagh is portraying as Nathan Caldwell, couldn't think of a more suitable guy…)

"Detective Washington?" Carlos said, his voice a mixture of shock and disbelief. "What the hell is this?"

She smirked, a thin, cruel curve of her lips that made my blood run cold. "Officer Reyes," she said, her voice dripping with mockery. "Always the naive one. Tell me, did you really think you'd solve this mess without stepping right into the trap we set for you?"

Carlos narrowed his eyes. "You set this trap?"

"Of course, hun," Detective Washington said, stepping forward with a confidence that matched Caldwell's. She gestured at the table behind us, her tone mocking. "Did you like our little display? We thought it might take things... personal."

Carlos clenched his fists at his sides. "Why? What's your endgame?"

Detective Washington's smirk deepened as she folded her arms. "Oh Reyes. You're asking the wrong questions. You should be asking yourself why you even bothered to come here in the first place. Was it duty? Curiosity? Or was it your insatiable need to prove yourself after... well, you know."

Carlos stiffened, tightening his jaw. "After what?"

Her eyes gleamed with malice. "Don't play coy. We all remember the bank robbery incident . The entire APD does."

The mention of the incident made Carlos flinch, and I could feel the tension radiating off him. I looked at T.K., who was staring at his husband with concern.

" You're talking about the suspect with the bomb ," Carlos said, his voice steady.

Detective Washington chuckled darkly. " Oh, so you do remember. The golden boy of APD, the one everyone thought could do no wrong, letting a suspect with a bomb strapped to him waltz out of the bank and make a mockery of law enforcement. You embarrassed the department, Reyes. And now, here you are, stumbling into another disaster because you can't resist playing the hero. "

Carlos's face darkened with anger. " That was years ago ," he said while gritting his teeth. " And the perpetrator did get arrested. I had to let him go, he was about to be blown up if he didn't deliver the money. He'd kids at home ."

" Keep telling yourself that , Reyes, " Detective Washington said, her tone icy. " But the truth is, you froze. You hesitated, and it cost the department its reputation. Just like you're hesitating now, trying to figure out whether to trust your instincts or your logic ."

T.K. stepped forward, his protective instincts kicking in. "That's enough," he said firmly. "Whatever you're trying to prove, you're not dragging Carlos down with you."

Caldwell, who had been silently observing the exchange, finally spoke, his voice smooth and deliberate. " Oh, but isn't that what makes this so interesting? The choices we make under pressure reveal who we truly are. Isn't that right, Officer Reyes ?"

In a blur, the group of assailants charged at us. T.K. shoved me back, yelling, "Eli, stay back!" as he and Carlos tried to fend them off. The sound of a scuffle filled the unit - grunts, the crash of boxes toppling over, and the sharp clang of metal against concrete. I scrambled to the ground, trying to shield myself as one of the attackers lunged toward me .

Carlos managed to knock one man off balance, but another grabbed him from behind. T.K. was holding his own, using his training to deflect blows, but he was outnumbered. I reached for a nearby box and threw it at one of the attackers, buying Carlos a second to break free and push him away.

Amid the chaos, Caldwell and Washington simply stood there, watching like puppeteers enjoying their show. Washington's expression was cold, calculating, as if every move had been orchestrated.

"You're pathetic," she sneered at Carlos. "Still trying to play the hero, even when you're out of your depth."

One of the attackers managed to grab me by the arm, dragging me up. I struggled, my panic threatening to overwhelm me, when T.K. rushed forward, landing a solid punch to free me. 

"Eli, run!" he shouted, but before I could move, another man appeared, shoving both of us back towards the table .

Carlos was pinned against the wall, blood trickling from his lip as he glared at Washington. "Why are you doing this?" he shouted.

"Because people like you," Detective Washington said, stepping closer, "always think you can save the day. Tonight, you'll learn otherwise."

Before Carlos could respond, one of the assailants landed a blow that sent him to the ground. T.K. was fighting with everything he had, but he was overwhelmed. One of the men swung a crowbar and T.K. crumpled to the ground, lying motionless.

I could not let it end like this. My heart pounded as I made a desperate dash toward them, ignoring the chaos surrounding me.

"Carlos! T.K.!" I shouted, my voice hoarse and raw.

Before I could reach them, one of the men intercepted me. His fist connected with my stomach, and the air was knocked out of my lungs. I doubled over, gasping, but I refused to stop. I clawed and pushed forward, stumbling toward T.K.'s side.

"Stay down!" the man barked, shoving me back.

I ignored him, my vision blurred with panic and determination. Just as my fingers brushed T.K.'s arm, something hard struck the back of my head. A sharp pain shot through my skull, and the world tilted violently.

I fell forward, landing on the cold concrete with a sickening thud. Darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision, but I fought it, my mind screaming for me to get up. To fight.

But my body would not respond. The voices around me grew muffled and distorted. The last thing I saw before the darkness claimed me was Caldwell's cruel smile and Detective Washington's cold, calculating eyes staring down at me. 

Chapter Text

The cold bite of the sea breeze and the rhythmic crash of waves pulled me into consciousness. My eyes fluttered open to the dim light filtering through cracked, grimy windows. I struggled to move, only to find my wrists bound tightly behind my back, my ankles secured to the chair. A strong smell of salt air filled the place, confirming my suspicion that I was somewhere near the docks .

My throat was dry, and as I turned my head, I spotted Carlos and T.K. next to me, restrained too. T.K. locked eyes with me, his expression a mix of concern and fury.

Our muffled attempts to communicate were cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps - the arrival of Nathan Caldwell and Sarina Washington. Their smug presence made my stomach churn as they strolled into the warehouse.

"Well, look who's awake now," Caldwell sneered, his voice dripping with superiority and control. He looked leaner than I imagined, his piercing blue eyes almost too intense. Detective Washington stood beside him, her arms akimbo, her professional facade gone.

"I suppose you have questions, Eli," Caldwell began, as he circled us like a predator assessing its prey. "Allow me to provide some answers."

He stopped in front of me and crouched down to my level. "You've been quite the puzzle, haven't you? Running away from mommy and daddy because they couldn't handle their son's...what was it? Mental issues?" His smirk deepened as he rose and turned to address us.

"When the 126 pulled you out from that fire at the grocery store, Eli, you became interesting. Intriguing even. So I started leaving little bread crumbs."

Caldwell signaled to Washington, who pulled out a file. She opened it, revealing copies of the letters I had received, the same neat and tidy handwriting I hoped never to see again.

"The clock strikes on November 17," Caldwell recited mockingly. "That wasn't a cryptic line. It was a warning , specifically tailored for you. We knew you'd become a 9-1-1 dispatcher. We were always listening , always waiting for the right time to strike."

My stomach twisted as Caldwell leaned in closer. "Remember that call ? The one about the father pinned beneath his car, his son begging for someone to save him? That was no accident," he said, his voice cold and detached.

I wanted to scream but the tape across my mouth held the words hostage.

Caldwell's smirk deepened. "Oh, Eli, we didn't just cause it, we planned it. We sent someone to distract the son while one of the guys pulled the jack away, pinning the father under his car. We knew you'd be the one to take the call. You tried so hard, didn't you? Told him and his son that help was on the way , kept him talking, gave him hope ."

He clapped his hands mockingly, the sound echoing in the room. "And yet, he still died. Crushed under the weight of his own car just like the weight of your failure ."

My heart sank, and tears burned in my eyes. I thrashed against the ropes, fury boiling under my skin.

"Now, you probably wondered about the second letter," Caldwell said, his voice dripping with mock concern."Family". Such a powerful word, isn't it? It can mean comfort, connection...or in your case, abandonment."

"You see, I wanted to remind you again of what you left behind. Your parents. The ones you ran from when they couldn't handle the idea of their son having a mental disorder. That letter wasn't just a taunt. It was a promise."

Carlos and T.K. struggled against the ropes, their muffled protests doing nothing to stop Caldwell's venomous tirade.

Caldwell paced with a smug grin, his voice carrying through the dimly lit warehouse. "Detective Washington here didn't just join me for the fun of it. She was instrumental in making sure I could operate freely. You don't build a plan like this without covering your tracks."

Detective Washington stood with her arms folded, her gaze cold and calculating. "While I was 'investigating' your case Eli," she began, her voice dripping with mockery, "I made sure that every lead conveniently went cold. Every clue that might have pointed to Caldwell here? Buried. I even ensured the APD stayed just a step behind, giving him the space he needed to work. "

"Oh, and let's not forget," Washington continued, turning her icy stare toward Carlos, "how easy it was to use the system against itself. While you and your precious 126 were running around playing hero, I made sure Nathan always had a safe exit. Your protocols, your teams - they're predictable. It was almost too easy."

Carlos thrashed violently, his muffled protests growing louder. Caldwell chuckled, leaning closer to him. " Oh, don't worry, Officer Reyes. I know you'd love to tell me exactly what you think of Sarina's little game. But, at last," he gestured toward the tape over Carlos's mouth, "s ilence suits you. Besides, you should be thanking her. Without her, I'd be in a cell by now, and where's the fun in that ?"

"Back to the plane crash, so we worked together. I orchestrated the plan, and she ensured the plane's inspection was...overlooked. One small misstep - explosive decompression. That's all it took ." 

A cold shiver ran down my spine as the full weight of their confession sank in. The lives lost, the pain caused - all because of their twisted vendetta. 

"Your parents' deaths?" Caldwell said, locking eyes with me.

"That was on you. You are the one who ran away from them. You left them vulnerable. If you'd just stayed in their lives, none of this would have happened. But you chose yourself over them and this was the price they paid. " Caldwell said as he jabbed a finger in my direction.

Tears streamed down my face as I shook my head, refusing to believe him. My mind raced, trying to process the horror of their words. 

"And as for the rest of the passengers ?" Caldwell added with a smirk. "Collateral damage. Sometimes you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet. Isn't that right, Detective? " 

Washington's expression did not waver. "They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just like the first responders we've targeted since. They're symbols of a broken system, and it's time for a reckoning." 

Carlos's muffled yelling became more desperate, his eyes met mine and in them I saw his frustration, his helplessness.

"I think he's mad ," Caldwell said, mocking Carlos, and leaning in towards him. "You're all so reliant on the system, on trust, that you never see the betrayal coming. And now, thanks to Sarina, I've had months to execute my plan without a single hitch."

Washington stepped closer to Carlos, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "You always thought you were the smartest in the room, didn't you? The hero cop. But you didn't see this coming. You and your team have no idea how deep this goes."

Carlos's struggled to free himself from the ropes, his movements so forceful that the chair he was bound to creaked under the strain.

"Save your energy, Reyes ," Caldwell said, stepping away and gesturing for Washington to follow. "You'll need it for what comes next."

Before leaving, Caldwell crouched down again, staring directly into my tear-filled eyes. "One last thing , you see, we didn't just send those letters to haunt you. We sent them to remind you of one simple truth, you can't save everyone. Any wrong move, and you all go up in flames. So sit tight, enjoy the view, and let the countdown begin."

As they stepped away, their words echoed in the cold, hollow space. "You won't be able to save everyone at the docks."

--

The morning began with an odd sense of unease for Owen as T.K. and Eli had not reported for their shifts, which was highly uncharacteristic of either of them. Nancy and Captain Vega exchanged concerned glances at the station.

"Eli being late on his first day as a paramedic? That doesn't sound like him," Nancy said, pacing outside the ambulance.

"It's not like T.K. to be late either," Captain Vega added, checking her watch.

Owen frowned, pulling out his phone. "Let me try calling them." He first dialed T.K.'s number, but after a few rings, the call went straight to voicemail. His frown deepened as he tried to call my phone next, only to be met with no answer too.

He suddenly remembered something I had mentioned the night before. "Eli stayed over at T.K. and Carlos’ place last night," Owen muttered, grabbing his turnout jacket. 

"Let's go find them, Cap," Judd said, already halfway to the bay door with the rest of the 126 team.

The drive to Carlos and T.K.'s house felt agonizingly long as Owen's worry grew. When they arrived, Owen knocked loudly on the front door, calling out "T.K.? Eli? Carlos? Anyone home?"

There was no response. Owen tried again, knocking harder, his voice tinged with urgency. Still nothing.

Judd stepped forward. "Cap, I think it's time we stop waiting."

Owen nodded. "Judd, do it."

With a swift motion, Judd swung the battering ram into the door, splintering it open. The team surged inside, checking each room methodically.

"T.K.? Eli? Carlos?" Nancy called out as they swept through the house.

Marjan peered into the guest room. "Looks like Eli probably slept here, but it's empty now."

"Living room's clear," Mateo and Paul added from downstairs.

Owen stood in the middle of the house, his unease growing by the second. The place felt too quiet.

"We need to get the APD and the Rangers involved," Owen said as he pull out his phone again and called Gabriel's number.

"Reyes? Sir, it's Captain Strand here," he began, his voice tight. "Your son, my son and our paramedic are missing. They did not show up for their shifts and I can't reach them. Any chance you can help track them down? Maybe start with Carlos' patrol car?"

Gabriel did not hesitate. "I'll get my team on it right away, Captain Strand. We'll start running searches based on my son's GPS inside his patrol car."

--

Minutes later, Gabriel called back. "We've located the car. It's parked near a storage facility at 3519 East Commerce Avenue. I'll send you the coordinates."

The 126 team immediately headed to the storage facility, arriving to find Carlos' patrol car parked outside of the entrance. Owen's stomach sank when he saw what awaited them.

"Blood," Marjan said grimly, pointing to a trail leading away from the vehicle. Nancy's breath hitched as she followed the trail with her eyes. "Where the hell are they?"

They quickly searched the facility but found it empty. Judd clenched his fists, frustration etched on his face. All of a sudden, Nancy froze, her eyes wide. "Wait guys...remember the cryptic message Eli received the other day? The one about not being able to save everyone at the docks?"

Captain Strand turned sharply to her, the words striking a chord in his memory. His eyes narrowed as he replayed the message in his mind. "The docks," he repeated under his breath.

Nancy nodded quickly, glancing at the others. "It has to mean something. Eli didn't just get that message randomly. What if it's their way of taunting him? A clue, maybe?"

Captain Strand looked at Nancy with gratitude. "Good thinking, Nancy. That's a solid lead. I'm just thinking, if the docks are their destination, we need to figure out which one and fast. What worries me is the timing..."

As the team stood in the dimly lit storage facility, Captain Strand turned to Gabriel, his expression with sheer determination. "Sir, we're running out of time. If this thing stretches beyond our resources, we'll need to call in additional help."

Gabriel nodded, his voice calm yet resolute. "I'd already took care of that, Captain Strand. I reached out to reinforcements. We'll have the 118 team from Los Angeles here soon, they're some of the best. LAPD's Sergeant Athena Grant will also be coming to assist as the lead officer in this case."

The room buzzed with murmurs of surprise. Judd folded his arms, looking at the rest of the team. "The 118, huh? Buck, Eddie, Chim, Hen, Ravi, Cap Nash - they're a bunch of legends."

Nancy nodded in agreement. "If anyone can handle this level of chaos, it's them. I heard they've dealt with their fair share of insane situations back in L.A."

Marjan raised an eyebrow. "Athena Grant? She's a powerhouse. It's no wonder she's stepping in as the lead officer for this!"

Captain Strand gave a small, approving smile. "Good call, Gabriel. We're going to need all the backup we can get."

Meanwhile in L.A., 118 firehouse

As the 118 prepare to leave for Austin, Ravi entered the station for his shift, his usual cheerful persona was replaced with concern. He noticed the team suiting up and paused, sensing the gravity of the situation.

"Cap," Ravi asked, looking at Captain Bobby Nash, "what's going on? Why is everyone gearing up like this?"

Bobby hesitated for a moment, then decided to tell Ravi the truth. "We're heading to Austin, Ravi. Captain Strand's son T.K., his husband Carlos and a friend of theirs - Eli have gone missing. The 126 and local enforcements need our help. It's serious."

Ravi's eyes widened in shock. "T.K.? Carlos? Eli? Missing?" His voice cracked slightly. "Eli's the dispatcher who switched to being a paramedic, right?" The one I'd talked about last week?"

Chimney nodded, strapping on his equipment. "Yeah, that's him. Apparently, he's been in the middle of some heavy stuff. We don't know the full details yet, but it's bad enough that Captain Strand requested backup."

Ravi's heart raced as he processed the news. "I...I have to come with you. Eli's a good person, and he's part of us too. We are all a family. I can't just sit here and do nothing."

Buck gave Ravi a reassuring nod. "We're all going, Ravi. But remember, this isn't just a rescue. This is a potential confrontation with some dangerous people. Are you sure you're ready for that?"

Ravi nodded, his usual uncertainty replaced with determination. "If it means helping bring them home, I'm ready. Whatever it takes."

Captain Nash placed a hand on Ravi's shoulder. "All right, Ravi. Stay close to us, follow orders and stay sharp. Let's move."

Back at the storage facility

The sound of approaching vehicles filled the air. The rumble of the engines stopped just outside, and the 126 turned to see a convoy of emergency vehicles pulling up. Stepping out were the familiar faces of the 118, led by Captain Bobby Nash. Behind him were Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz, Hen Wilson, Chimney Han and Ravi Panikkar, each of them ready for action.

Athena Grant followed close behind, her presence commanding as she approached Gabriel and Captain Strand with a firm handshake. "Sergeant Athena Grant. We'll do everything we can to support your team and find them."

Gabriel nodded. "Thank you, Sergeant. We're dealing with professionals on the other side - organized, methodical and dangerous. We're going to need every skill you bring to the table."

Bobby stepped forward, addressing Owen. "Captain Strand, we're here to help. Whatever you need, we'll do it."

Owen shook his hand firmly. "Captain Nash, it's an honor to work with you and your team. Let's pool everything we've got. The clock is ticking and I don't intend to lose anyone else today."

Buck and Eddie exchanged determined glances. "Let's do this!" Buck said with his usual enthusiasm, adjusting his gear.

"Hey Ravi!" Mateo greeted with a grin, giving him a quick pat on the back. "Glad to see you made it. You're not getting out of this one, huh?" Ravi chuckled nervously but could not hide the seriousness in his eyes. "Nope. I'm in this for the long haul."

Paul shot Ravi a supportive smile. "We're all in this together, man. You know that. How you're holding up?"

Ravi shrugged, the weight of the situation still heavy on him. "I'm fine. Just... worried about Eli, T.K. and Carlos. They're missing and we need to find them fast."

Marjan offered a comforting nod. "Don't worry Ravi. We got this. The 118 and 126 combined? We'll kick ass."

Athena turned to Nancy, her voice steady. "So young lady, I heard you've got some clues on where they might be?"

Nancy hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "Yes Sergeant, we think they're at one of the docks. Eli, one of the missing guys, received a cryptic message about it days ago, something about not being able to save everyone at the docks."

Athena nodded. "Appreciate that, chica. Also I managed to assess some of Detective Sarina Washington's case report, the perpetrator's name is Nathan Caldwell."

Nancy froze at the mention of the name. Her eyes locked with Owen's, the realization dawning in both of them. Owen's jaw tightened as his gaze narrowed. "Caldwell," he muttered, the name sounding more familiar than ever.

Nancy took a step closer, her brow furrowed in disbelief. "I know that name, Cap. Caldwell's the one behind the plane crash...the one who...that's who Eli's parents were involved with, right?"

Owen nodded slowly, his expression darkening. "You're right, Nance. That's the name from the letters. From the cryptic messages."

As the tension thickened, Athena turned towards Gabriel. "Sir, we're dealing with a coordinated operation here. To avoid miscommunication, we need to set up a central meeting point where everyone can pool their information and strategize. Do you think we can organize that?" 

Gabriel nodded. "Absolutely Sergeant Grant, I suggest we keep it close to home. Less movement, more control." 

Captain Strand chimed in. "The 126 firehouse can serve as the hub. It's central, secure and has everything we need to coordinate this search." 

Athena tapped her chin thoughtfully before nodding. "That works. But before we meet, there's one last crucial piece of information I've uncovered." 

Nancy leaned in, her curiousity piqued. "What kind of clue, Sergeant Grant?" 

Athena smiled faintly, keeping her cards close to her chest. "I'll explain everything when we're at the firehouse. Trust me, it'll make sense then."

Marjan tilted her head, "Sergeant Grant, you can't just drop that on us and expect us not to ask questions."

"Exactly!" Mateo interjected. "Now I'm dying to know." 

Athena's expression remained firm. "Can we all have some patience? I need ALL of us together when I reveal this. It's...significant." 

Nancy exchanged a bewildered glance with Captain Strand. "Why not just tell us now? The docks are already a big enough clue." 

Captain Strand clapped his hands together. "Alright, 126, enough speculating. Let's move to the firehouse. Whatever Sergeant Grant's got, it sounds like it's the missing piece of this puzzle." 

--

The 126 firehouse buzzed with activity as trucks pulled into the bay, carrying reinforcements from Los Angeles. The 118 crew stepped out, their eyes wide with curiosity as they took in the firehouse's unique design. It's a blend of traditional firehouse grit and modern upgrades courtesy of Captain Strand's meticulous taste in architecture and interior design. 

"Wow..." Buck said, craning his neck as he took in the high ceilings, polished floors and the modern style bunk and bathrooms. "Okay this is way nicer than ours. Where's all the dirt?" 

Eddie smirked, patting Buck's shoulder. "Not every firehouse has to look like it's been through a war zone, Buck." 

"Hey, but the dirt and all tell a story, man!" Buck countered, gesturing dramatically. "I feel like I just walked into a Pinterest board for firehouses." 

Marjan, walking by with Mateo and Paul, overheard and chuckled. "Pinterest? Seriously Buck, is that where you get your decorating inspiration from?"

Mateo laughed. "Careful Marj. He might actually pull up a mood board for the station back in L.A." 

Buck put his hands on his hips. "Listen, Firefox, if I did, it would be spectacular. Just imagine - mood lighting in the common room, maybe a beanbag or two in the locker area." 

Paul interrupted with a grin. "Beanbags? Really, Buck? That's what the LAFD is missing? Beanbags?" 

Judd joined the group, shaking his head as he overheard the conversation. "Y'all sure this guy fights fire? Sounds like he should be on HGTV."

Eddie stifled a laugh. "Buck, how about you focus on getting a couch for your apartment before you start yapping on redesigning to entire firehouse?" 

Buck turned to Eddie with a glare. "First of all Eddie, the couch situation is under control. Secondly, what's wrong with a little inspiration, huh? We could totally add some of this flair back home" 

Captain Nash walked into the gathering area, raising a brow at the lively banter. "Are you guys here to admire the firehouse or to save our friends in need?" 

Buck immediately straightened, his expression turning serious. "Right Cap, saving lives first, design tips later." 

"Alright, everyone," Captain Strand's voice filled the area with a clipboard in hand. "We've got a briefing to get to. So, Sergeant Grant, care to share that crucial piece of information you've uncovered?" 

"So what is it, Sergeant Grant?" Nancy asked, noticing Athena's shift in her attitude.

-- 

Chapter Text

As everyone gathered around Captain Strand, Captain Nash and Sergeant Grant, Nancy raised her hand slightly, her brow furrowed with concern. 

"Umm, Captain Strand? Sergeant Grant?" she called out, drawing the attention of the others. Captain Strand turned to her, his expression expectant. "What's on your mind, Nancy?"

Nancy hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Isn't there one more person who's supposed to be here with us? Detective Washington? She knows all the information about Caldwell and his connections. Shouldn't she be here to help us investigate and locate Eli, T.K., and Carlos?" 

The room fell silent for a beat, the name hanging in the air like a dark cloud. Sergeant Grant, standing near Gabriel, shifted her stance, her expression tightening. 

Sergeant Grant sighed heavily. "Detective Washington won't be joining us," she said, her tone carrying on edge of authority. "Why not? If she has information, we need her." Nancy frowned.

Sergeant Grant exchanged a glance with Gabriel before continuing. "Because she's not here to help. I've reviewed her case reports, her involvement and everything connected to Caldwell. She's been working with him , not against him." 

A stunned silence fell over the gathering area as everyone processed Sergeant Grant's revelation. Nancy's jaw dropped. "¿Qué?" she exclaimed, disbelief etched across her face. 

"You're telling me she's been playing us this whole time?" Paul added.

Sergeant Grant nodded grimly. "Yes. Detective Washington has been providing Caldwell with cover and using her position to misdirect investigations. I found discrepancies in her investigation logs. She's been manipulating evidence and creating alibis for Caldwell, possibly even helping him evade detection after each incident." 

Buck let out a low whistle. "That's...wow. Just when you think the situation couldn't get worse." 

Eddie elbowed him lightly. "Focus, Buck." 

Nancy shook her head, still reeling. "This whole time...she was supposed to protect Eli, T.K., and Carlos. And she's part of the reason they're missing?" 

Gabriel spoke up, his voice steady and firm. "That's exactly why we need to keep moving forward. We've exposed her involvement and now it's on us to fix this." 

Captain Strand cleared his throat, reclaiming everyone's attention. "Alright, now that we know what we're dealing with, let's keep focused. Detective Washington's betrayal doesn't change our mission. We're bringing them home. All of them ." 

Captain Strand stood at the head of the table in the 126 firehouse briefing room, a large map of Austin spread out before him. Captain Nash stood beside him, both men flipping through printouts of dock locations and notes. The room was filled with members of the 126, 118, Texas Rangers, APD and LAPD, the tension palpable as they leaned in to listen. 

"Alright," Captain Strand began, pointing at the map. "We're dealing with several docks in the Austin area. The priority is to split into groups and investigate each one thoroughly. Time is of the essence." 

Captain Nash stepped in, holding a list. "These are the docks we'll cover: Lake Austin Boat Dock, Walsh Boat Landing, Oyster Landing Marina, Loop 360 Boat Ramp, West Lake Beach Dock and the South Shore District Dock. Each group will cover one location. Any signs of suspicious activity, report back immediately." 

Sergeant Grant nodded from her position near the table. "If Caldwell and Washington are involved, they won't make it easy. Check for any signs of tempering, suspicious vehicles or activity that doesn't align with what you'd expect at these docks. Stay vigilant." 

A collective chorus of agreement filled the room, but Ravi stood stiffly at the back, his expression tight. 

Captain Strand looked at him. "Ravi, you good?" 

Ravi nodded quickly but said nothing, his jaws clenched. 

"Alright," Captain Strand said as he glanced at the list again. "Here's how we'll do this: 

Lake Austin Boat Dock : Ravi and Sir Gabriel Reyes

Walsh Boat Landing - Buck and Diaz

Oyster Landing Marina - Paul, Marjan and Mateo

Loop 360 Boat Ramp - Judd and Sergeant Grant

West Lake Beach Dock - Nancy, Hen and Chim

South Shore District Dock - Captain Strand and Captain Nash

Each team will be accompanied by a police unit for additional backup." 

"Why Lake Austin for me?" Ravi suddenly asked, his voice tight. 

Gabriel looked over, his face calm but with a sense of authority. "Because I know that area well, kid. If there's anything off, I'll spot it. You're coming with me because I need someone I can trust to have my back."

Ravi's lips pressed before he nodded. "Got it, Sir." 

Nancy stepped forward. "We're sure about this, Cap?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "I mean, what if...what if we miss the right dock?"

Captain Strand placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We won't, Nancy. We're covering every possibility and remember, this isn't just us. We've got Athena, Gabriel, LAPD and the 118 working on this too. We're not alone." 

As everyone started to gather their gear, Ravi lingered near the back of the firehouse. Gabriel approached him. "You alright, kid?" Ravi exhaled shakily and nodded, but his voice betrayed him. "Yeah... No... I don't know." He rubbed his face with his hands, then leaned against the wall. "It's just... Eli's a good guy, you know? He's been through so much already, and now this?" 

Gabriel let Ravi talk, sensing the younger man needed to let it out. "I remember during paramedic training," Ravi began, his voice soft. "Eli and I used to joke around during our scenario practices and we would always end up getting scolded by our instructors. The bond we'd created over the time...I will cherish this for the rest of my life." 

Ravi's voice caught, but he pushed through. "And T.K. and Carlos, they're like this power couple. When I first met them at the hospital, T.K.'s got this endless optimism, you know? And Carlos, he's just...solid. Dependable. The kind of guy who would step into danger without thinking twice because he knows it's the right thing to do." 

Gabriel patted Ravi on his shoulder. "You've got instincts, kid. You said it yourself, Eli, T.K. and Carlos are amazing people. But so are you. They need you now, Panikkar." 

For a moment, Ravi stayed quiet, letting the words sink in. Then, he straightened up, wiping away the tears in his eyes quickly before anyone could notice. "You're right Sir. Let's do this. We're going to find them. We have to." 

Gabriel gave him a firm nod. "That's the spirit!" 

--

As Gabriel and Ravi rode together towards Lake Austin Boat Dock, the hum of the road filled the silence between them. Ravi was uncharacteristically quiet. Gabriel glanced at him, sensing his tension. 

"You know, kid," Gabriel began, breaking the silence. "My son Carlos wasn't always this open about his life. Took him some time to tell me about T.K."

Ravi turned to him, intrigued but unsure if he should ask for more elaboration. Gabriel noticed the hesitation and continued. 

"When Carlos first came out to me, I didn't handle it well. I thought I was doing what was best for him by being distant, but really, I was just being a stubborn old man." Gabriel's tone carried a mix of regret and warmth. Ravi nodded, encouraging him to continue on. 

"Then T.K. came into the picture." Gabriel said, his voice softening. "That kid changed everything. T.K. had his way of making people see the best in themselves, even someone like me. He's been through a lot, just like Carlos. Together, they make each other better." 

Ravi smiled faintly. "They really are something, Sir. You can just see it when they're together, they just fit." 

Gabriel chuckled. "That's true. T.K. has a way of drawing Carlos out of his shell, making him laugh, even when he doesn't want to. And Carlos keeps T.K. grounded, especially with everything that boy's been through." 

He paused, his expression growing more serious. "But it's not just about them being good for each other. It's about how they've grown together. They've faced their share of challenges, Carlos's doubts, T.K.'s struggles with addiction and they've come out stronger every time. That's the kind of love you fight for." 

Ravi glanced at Gabriel, admiration clear in his expression. "You're proud of them." 

"Damn right, I am." Gabriel said, his voice filled with conviction. "And I'll be damned if I let anything happen to them or to Eli. These three mean the world to so many people. We're bringing them home, Ravi. No matter what." 

Ravi nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. 

As Ravi and Gabriel approached Lake Austin Boat Dock, the radio in their vehicle crackled to life, interrupting the heavy silence. 

"This is Captain Nash," came the calm, authoritative voice over the line. "Team status check. Sergeant Grant, do you copy?" 

"Copy, Captain Nash," Athena replied, her voice clear and focused. "We've just reached Loop 360 Boat Ramp. No signs of anything unusual so far, but we're doing a full sweep of the area." 

"Copy that," Captain Nash responded. "Keep us posted. 126 and 118 teams, check in. Marjan, Chim, Buck?" 

The radio buzzed again, and Chimney's voice cut through. "We're here at West Lake Beach Dock. Nothing out of the ordinary yet, but we're lookin' Cap." 

"Good," Captain Nash said. "Marjan, Paul, Mateo, how about your team?" 

"Still scoping out Oyster Landing Marina," Mateo chimed in, his usual energy slightly subdued by the gravity of the situation. "Nothing yet Cap, but it's eerily quiet out here." 

"Copy that, Chavez," Captain Nash replied, his voice tinged with concern. 

"Buck, Eddie, status check. What's your situation over at Walsh Boat Landing?"

Eddie's voice came first, steady and measured as always. "We're halfway through our sweep of the landing, Cap. So far, nothing unusual, but we're checking every inch."

Buck's voice quickly followed, a bit more animated. "We're being thorough, Cap. Though I gotta say, if we don't find anything soon, Eddie might lecture me on the importance of ' methodical searching .'"

There was a brief pause before Eddie chimed back in, "I don't lecture, Buck. I remind. And maybe if you stop daydreaming about designing the 118's new lounge, you'd search faster."

Buck scoffed dramatically, though it was clear he was trying to lighten the tension. " Daydreaming ? I'm just saying, couches and a proper espresso machine could really elevate morale back at the station! Unlike you, Diaz, I multi-task."

"Okay, now focus, Buck," Eddie shot back with a hint of amusement in his otherwise serious tone. "We've got lives on the line."

Captain Nash's voice interrupted, his tone laced with authority but tinged with the faintest chuckle. "Buck, Eddie, let's save the interior decorating plans for after we bring Eli, T.K., and Carlos home. Keep us posted."

"Copy that, Cap," Eddie said.

"Sir Reyes, Ravi, what's your status?" 

Gabriel picked up the radio. "We're at Lake Austin Boat Dock, Captain Nash. We just arrived and are beginning our sweep now." 

"Understood. Stay vigilant," Captain Nash said. "And everyone, remember, check-ins every five minutes . This operation is tight and we can't afford to miss anything." 

"Copy that," Athena affirmed, followed by similar acknowledgements from the other teams. 

As the minutes ticked by, the teams maintained a steady flow of updates. Marjan reported an old abandoned boat but nothing suspicious. Eddie reported an abandoned warehouse and is moving inland to inspect. Nancy reported that her area had active boat traffic , but nothing suspicious so far. Judd reported that his area appeared quiet and primarily used for leisure activities but will inspect the nearby service building for potential hideouts. 

Meanwhile at Lake Austin Boat Dock

The sun soon dipped below the horizon, casting the Lake Austin Boat Dock in eerie shadows as Ravi and Gabriel cautiously advanced. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the shore was interrupted by the distant hum of crickets and the crunch of their boots on the gravel path. 

The sight of a blood trail leading towards the warehouse made Ravi's stomach churn. Each step closer seemed to make the air heavier. "We're close," Gabriel said quietly, gesturing towards the darkened structure ahead. 

As they approached, faint muffled voices carried through the cool evening air. "That's them, Sir," Ravi whispered, his voice barely audible. Gabriel raised a hand to signal caution, pulling his radio out. "Captain Nash, Sergeant Grant, we have voices inside a warehouse here at Lake Austin Boat Dock. Request immediate backup, over." 

The warehouse was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the moon seeping through the cracked windows. My wrists ached from the ropes cutting into them and my throat was raw from all the muffled cries that no one could hear. Carlos and T.K. were slumped beside me, their movements weak, but their eyes sharp, watching for any hints of hope. 

Then, the door creaked open. 

At first, I thought I was imagining it, a trick of the shadows. But then I saw a figure step into the dim light. My heart leaped. It was Ravi. Relief flooded me as his silhouette grew clearer. 

"Ra..mmphhh!" I tried to scream, my voice muffled by the tape over my mouth. Carlos and T.K. were making noises too, all three of us trying desperately to get his attention. 

His eyes scanned the room frantically until they locked onto ours. "Eli, T.K., Carlos!" he yelled, his voice trembling with relief and urgency. He broke into a run, heading straight for us. 

For a fleeting moment, I thought we were saved. 

But then the sharp, deafening sound of a gunshot shattered the moment. Ravi let out a pained cry as he fell to the ground, clutching his leg. Blood pooled beneath him, and I screamed against the tape, thrashing in my chair. My heart raced as I watched him writhe in pain, his hands pressing desperately against the wound to stop his bleeding. 

"Ra…mmph!" I tried again, but the tape made it impossible for my voice to reach him. Tears blurred my vision as panic overtook me. 

The back door of the warehouse swung open wider, and shadows spilled into the room. Sarina Washington stepped in first, her cold gaze sweeping the scene, followed closely by Nathan Caldwell and several of their men before locking the warehouse door with a padlock. 

"Well, isn't this touching?" Caldwell sneered, his tone dripping with mockery as he approached Ravi, who was still struggling on the ground. "A rescue mission, huh? Too bad he didn't get far." 

I glared at him, my chest heaving with fury. Sarina tilted her head, smirking evilly. 

"Didn't we warn you guys?" Caldwell said, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone. "You wouldn't be able to save everyone." 

Ravi tried to push himself up despite the blood streaming down his leg, but Caldwell kicked him back down with a brutal force that made me flinch. "Stay down!" Caldwell growled. 

Gabriel's voice crackled over the radio, his tone tensed and urgent. "Reyes here. We've got a situation, Ravi's been shot, he's down, and we've confirmed Caldwell and Washington are inside the warehouse. Hostages are here too. Request for immediate backup from all teams. This is a volatile situation, they're heavily armed and dangerous." 

Without hesitation, Sergeant Grant took charge. "All units, converge on Lake Austin Boat Dock immediately. This is our priority target. Teams, stay sharp, we're dealing with a well organized group. Let's move!" 

The radio buzzed with affirmations from all teams. Within ten minutes, the sound of vehicles screeching to a half outside the warehouse echoed through the area. Members of the 126, 118, Texas Rangers and LAPD assembled in a makeshift perimeter. 

Sergeant Grant wasted no time, gathering the teams for a quick tactical briefing. "Caldwell and Washington are inside with hostages. They've already demonstrated that they are willing to use deadly force. We go in fast, coordinated and focused. LAPD will breach the front. Rangers, you cover the back and sides. 126 and 118, you're back up for extraction once the hostages are clear. No heroics - safety first." 

Gabriel stepped forward, gripping his gun tightly. "They're dangerous, but we've got the element of surprise. Let's end this." 

With the plan set, the team moved into position. The LAPD led the breach, breaking the padlock. Chaos erupted as shots were fired immediately. Sergeant Grant, leading the charge, directed her officers to return fire while providing cover for the others. Gabriel and a few Rangers moved in cautiously, covering their flanks. 

Inside the warehouse, Caldwell and Washington were already retreating, using their men as shields. Washington shouted orders while Caldwell ignited a trail of gasoline leading to the walls. 

Gabriel spotted them and raised his weapon. "Freeze! You're surrounded!" he commanded. 

Caldwell smirked. "Am I?" He threw a lighter into the gasoline trail, and the flames erupted violently. Sarina took aim and before anyone could react, Gabriel was hit in the chest . He staggered backward, collapsing to the ground. 

As chaos erupted in the warehouse, Carlos's muffled grunts turned into a frantic struggle against the ropes binding his hands and the tape over his mouth. Twisting and pulling, he finally managed to tear the tape free, gasping for air. His eyes widened in horror as he saw his father collapse to the ground after being shot. 

"DAD!" Carlos screamed, his voice filled with panic and anguish. The sound echoed through the warehouse, cutting through the commotion. 

I saw Gabriel hit the ground and my muffled cries grew louder. T.K. and I shouted through the tape, our voices blending in frantic desperation, trying to grab Carlos's attention and warn him of the spreading flames. 

"Man down!" Sergeant Grant shouted, rushing to provide cover as the fire spread rapidly. 

Captain Strand and Captain Nash immediately called out to their teams. "118, 126, get in there now! We have to get those hostages out!" 

"Carlos, stay back!" T.K. tried to yell, his words garbled but urgent. Carlos ignored the chaos around him, his focus solely on his father. Tears streamed down his face as he strained against the ropes, his voice breaking as he called out again. 

"Dad, no! Somebody help him!"

Gabriel clutched his chest, blood staining his uniform as he tried to stay conscious. His eyes locked onto Carlos, filled with determination and pride despite his pain. 

The teams burst into action. Mateo and Judd kicked over debris while Paul and Marjan extinguished the flames near us. At that moment, Buck and Eddie burst through the flames, followed by Captain Nash and Captain Strand. 

"We've got you! Stay down!" Buck shouted, grabbing Carlos and pulling him back just as embers rained from the ceiling. 

"Eli, T.K., we're coming!" Captain Nash assured us, his voice steady and commanding. 

Captain Strand and Captain Nash reached us moments later, cutting through the ropes and pulling us free. As soon as my hands were untied, I scrambled towards Ravi, who was lying close to Gabriel. 

Carlos, fueled by adrenaline and desperation, lifted his father in his arms as the flames roared around them with help from Judd. His face was etched with anguish, sweat and soot streaking his skin. 

"Hold on, Dad. I've got you." he shouted, his voice trembling as he pushed past falling embers and the acrid smoke filling the air. 

Behind him, I bent down to scoop Ravi up as carefully as I could, his injured leg bleeding profusely. He groaned in pain but managed to weakly grip my arm. "We're almost out, Ravi, stay with me," I told him. 

As I struggled to carry Ravi out of the inferno, the heat and smoke were overwhelming. My legs felt like they were about to give out, but I pushed forwards, knowing he needed help and fast. Just as I was about to stumble, strong hands gripped my shoulder. 

"Let me help you," Captain Nash said, steadying me as he moved to take some of Ravi's weight. His calm but commanding voice cut through the chaos. 

I nodded, my throat dry from the smoke. "Thank you, Cap," I managed to say with my hoarse voice. 

Outside the warehouse, medics were already setting up triage. The moment Carlos burst through the doors with Gabriel, Chimney and Hen rushed over with a stretcher. "We've got him!" Hen shouted as Carlos laid his father down, staying close by his side. 

I emerged moments later with Ravi and Captain Nash out of the inferno, my muscles burning from the effort. Nancy and Captain Strand rushed over to help Captain Nash and I lower Ravi onto another stretcher, her eyes darting between Ravi's ashen face and the warehouse. 

"Eli! Are you okay?" Nancy and Captain Strand asked, gripping my arm firmly as they looked me over. 

"I'm fine!" I said, coughing slightly, "But Ravi...he's hurt badly." 

Meanwhile at triage (Gabriel)

Chimney immediately took charge of Gabriel's care, cutting away his shirt to reveal the gunshot wound to his chest. Blood seeped from the injury and Hen worked quickly to apply direct pressure while assessing for signs of internal bleeding. 

"Gunshot wound to the left chest, possible pneumothorax, " Hen reported, her voice calm but urgent. She reached for a needle decompression kit. "We need to relieve the pressure and see if his lungs collapsed." 

Chimney inserted a large bore needle into Gabriel's chest, releasing a gush of trapped air. Gabriel's breathing became slightly less labored, but his pulse remained weak. Hen connected him to an oxygen mask and called for an IV line to start fluids.

"BP's dropping, he's in hypovolemic shock !" Chimney warned, checking the monitors. Hen nodded, attaching a bag of saline to the IV to replenish the lost blood volume. 

Despite their best efforts, Gabriel's heart rate continued to deteriorate. "Mr Reyes?" Hen said softly, looking up at Carlos. "We're doing everything we can." 

Carlos knelt beside his father, gripping his hand tightly. "Dad, don't leave me," he whispered, tears streaming down his face. T.K. joined and knelt beside him, his arm around Carlos' shoulders. Gabriel's eyes flicked open briefly, his gaze meeting his son's. 

" I'm proud of you guys, " Gabriel managed to say before his eyes closed. 

Then the monitor flatlined. 

"NO!" Carlos shouted, his voice breaking as he leaned closer to his father. "NO, NO, NO! Don't do this, Dad. Don't leave me!" 

Hen immediately began another round of compressions, her movements precise and determined. "We're not giving up, Chim. Charge the paddles!" 

Chimney nodded, grabbing the defibrillator. "Clear!" he yelled, delivering a shock. Gabriel's body jolted slightly, but the monitor remained flat. Carlos leaned closer, his tears falling freely onto Gabriel's shirt. "Come on, Dad. Fight! You can do this, you always do this!" His voice broke, trembling with fear.

"Come on," Hen muttered, sweat beading on her forehead. 

Another round of compressions. Another shock. But the flatline persisted. Carlos shook his head violently. "NO! YOU DON’T STOP! YOU HEAR ME? YOU KEEP GOING!" he shouted, his voice rising in panic. "Keep going until he wakes up!" 

Hen's hands stilled, hovering over Gabriel's chest. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at Chimney, who quietly shook his head. T.K. tightened his grip on Carlos' shoulder as he trembled, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "Please," Carlos whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please, Dad. You can’t do this to me." 

Hen finally sat back, her hands falling into her lap. Chimney's voice was thick with emotion as he said "Time of death... 8:47 PM." 

Carlos let out a choked sob, collapsing onto his father's chest. "NO!!!" he wailed, gripping Gabriel's shirt as if he could somehow pull him back. T.K. wrapped his arms around Carlos, pulling him close as tears streamed down both their faces. "Babe," he murmured softly, his own voice shaking. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." 

Meanwhile at triage (Ravi)

Meanwhile, Nancy and I worked together to stabilize Ravi. I applied a tourniquet to his upper thigh to control the bleeding while Nancy assessed the wound - a clear shot through his thigh, dangerously close to the femoral artery. 

"We're lucky," she muttered, though her voice carried a sharp edge of urgency. "It missed the artery, but it's still bad." I crouched next to her, holding pressure on the wound with trembling hands, my chest tight with fear. 

Ravi winced, biting back a groan as Nancy applied more pressure. "Eli," she said firmly, snapping me out of my daze. "Keep holding here. Don't let go. I need to grab more supplies." 

I nodded quickly, trying to focus, though my ears caught the faint sound of shouting from across the scene. Ravi's face twisted in pain, but his voice was steady. "What's going on out there?" 

Before I could answer, we all heard it - a sharp, gut wrenching cry. It was Carlos, his voice raw and broken. 

" NO!!! " The sound cut through the night like a blade, making my heart drop. I looked at Nancy, her face pale as she paused for a fraction of a second before resuming her work.

"What's happening over there?" I asked, my heart sinking as I instinctively tried to peer towards the commotion. Ravi pushed himself up slightly, grimacing. "Oh my God, it's Carlos," he said, his voice strained but alarmed. "Something's wrong." 

Nancy placed a firm hand on Ravi's shoulder, gently pushing him back down. "You need to stay still, Ravi," she said, her voice sharp with concern. 

Nancy worked quickly, applying a compression bandage to slow the bleeding. "We're not losing anyone else tonight," she said through her clenched teeth, though her gaze flickered towards the direction of the cries, her worry evident. 

We all listened intently as Carlos' grief and despair spilled into the air. Every head turned in the direction of the commotion, the sound gripping everyone's hearts. 

Marjan, who was helping guide a hose to keep the flames from spreading, froze. Paul, nearby, exchanged a concerned glance with Judd. "That sounded like Carlos," Paul muttered, his voice tight with worry.

The 118, positioned at a safe distance to monitor the scene, heard it too. Buck turned to Eddie, his face pale. "What the hell just happened?" he asked, his usual bravado gone.

Eddie, with his jaw clenched, did not answer. Instead, he started walking towards the commotion, with Buck following close behind.

Athena, standing with Captain Nash, exchanged a knowing , sorrowful look with him. "That's Gabriel," she said quietly. "He didn't make it ."

The impact of her words sank in quickly. Captain Nash closed his eyes briefly, then straightened. "We need to keep everyone steady," he said firmly. "If we lose focus now, it's only going to get worse."

Still, whispers spread among the teams as the realization hit. Marjan's face fell as she looked at Mateo. "Carlos' dad..." she murmured, unable to finish the sentence.

Mateo shook his head, his expression filled with disbelief. "Man, no. Not like this."

Eddie and Buck reached the edge of the scene where Carlos was crumpled next to Gabriel, sobbing uncontrollably as T.K. tried to hold him. Seeing their pain up close, Buck rubbed the back of his neck, his usual words failing him. Eddie placed a firm hand on Buck's shoulder, silently guiding him to step back and give them space.

Nearby, Hen and Chimney exchanged somber looks as they worked to clean up their gear. Hen's voice was low. " I hate this part , Chim, I really do…" she said, glancing toward the scene of grief. "No matter how many times we see it, it doesn't get easier."

The tense atmosphere thickened as Caldwell and Washington, surrounded by LAPD officers and Rangers with weapons drawn, emerged from the shadows. Their calm demeanor was chilling, as if they thrived on the chaos they had created. 

Caldwell smirked, his cold eyes scanning the devastated scene. "Well" , he began, his voice dripping with arrogance. "I told you, you can't save everyone at the docks ." 

Washington chimed in, her tone equally venomous. "But you tried. Such noble efforts, wasted on inevitability." 

Sergeant Grant stepped forward, her gun pointed towards the pair. "Nathan Caldwell. Sarina Washington. You're both under arrest for conspiracy, murder, arson, and more charges that I can count. Put your hands where I can see them!" 

The two complied slowly, Caldwell chuckling as the APD officers handcuffed him. "You think this ends here?" he asked, sneering. "This is just the beginning."

As the tension seemed to ease with their arrests, a new wave of emotion erupted. Carlos, his face twisted with rage , stepped forward with his fists clenched, 

"The beginning?" he growled, his voice trembling. "You destroyed everything! You took my father, my family, you took everything from Eli!" 

Before anyone could react, Carlos threw a vicious punch across Caldwell's face, knocking him to the ground. Blood dripped from Caldwell's lip, but Carlos was not finished. He lunged forwards, ready to strike again, but T.K. grabbed his arm. 

"Carlos! Stop!" T.K. pleaded, trying to restrain him. Carlos spun around, his eyes wild with fury. "Don't you DARE tell me to stop!" he shouted, shoving T.K. away. "This is justice!" 

To everyone's horror, Carlos pulled a gun and pointed it directly at Caldwell and Washington. 

"Officer Reyes, no!" Sergeant Grant called out, stepping closer cautiously. "Don't do this. Don't let them win by turning you into something you're not." 

"They've already won!" Carlos yelled, his hands shaking as he gripped the gun tightly. "They killed my dad! They've destroyed lives and they get to live?!" 

T.K. moved forward again, his voice breaking. "Carlos, please. This isn't you. You're better than this. Your dad wouldn't want this to unfold." 

Carlos' eyes darted between Caldwell, Washington and T.K., with tears rolling down his eyes. I stepped in beside T.K., my voice steady but pleading. 

"Carlos, look at me. They've taken so much already. Don't let them take you too. Don't let them make you lose yourself." 

Carlos hesitated, his breathing ragged, his eyes filled with pain. The gun wavered and for a moment, I thought he might lower it. 

But then, in an agonizing twist, he swung the gun in our direction, his emotions spiraling out of control. T.K. froze in place, his face pale with fear and heartbreak while Captain Strand, Captain Nash and the rest of the 126 and 118 watched in stunned silence. 

"No, Carlos," I said, my voice firm but calm as I stepped forward slightly. "Look at me." 

"Stay back, Eli!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "I swear, stay the hell BACK!" 

I did not flinch, instead taking another step closer, keeping my hands up, my eyes locked on his. "Carlos, this isn't you. I know you. You're one of the strongest, kindest, most selfless person I've ever met. Don't let them take that away from you." 

"You don't understand!" Carlos shouted, his voice breaking as tears spilled over. "You don't understand what they took from me! What I've lost!" 

"They took my parents, Carlos," I continued, my voice breaking but unwavering. 

"They robbed me of the chance to fix things , to ever hear them say they were proud of me . They made me feel like I wasn't worth saving. Do you know what it's like? To lose everything and blame yourself?" 

Carlos' breathing hitched, and he shook his head as if he's trying to block out my words. "Eli, I..." 

"No, listen to me, Carlos," I pressed on, stepping closer despite the tension in the air. "You're not the only one hurting here, Carlos. You're not the only one who feels like they've failed. But you know what? We didn't fail. We survived. We're here, right now, standing in front of the people who did this and we have the chance to make sure they don't win. Don't let them take any more from us." 

Carlos' grip on the gun loosened slightly, his shoulders beginning to shake. "They don't deserve your rage," I said softly. "You're better than that, Carlos. You're better than them."

T.K., standing nearby, added in a trembling voice, "Babe, please. Don't do this. We need you. I need you."

Carlos finally lowered the gun slightly, his head falling forward as his tears overtook him. The moment crashed down hard on all of us, and I could see the fight leave his body.

"They took everything from us, Eli," Carlos added. "Everything."

"I know," I said, stepping forward to place a hand on his shoulder. 

Carlos dropped the gun to the ground, and T.K. pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him as if he were the only thing keeping him grounded. 

The officers moved in quickly to secure the scene, Caldwell and Washington hauled to their feet and led away in cuffs. Athena approached cautiously, her eyes filled with understanding. "You did the right thing, Carlos," she said gently. "You honored your father by choosing to be the man he raised you to be."

Carlos did not respond, his grief overwhelming him as he clung to T.K., who held him tightly. I knelt beside them, my own tears falling as I placed a comforting hand on Carlos' back.

Chapter Text

Legacy isn't just about the big moments - it's about the small choices we make every single day. The way we treat people, the way we show up, and the way we carry on in the face of loss. 

As Caldwell and Washington were taken into custody, the air remained heavy with tension. Nancy approached me, her brow furrowed as she glanced at the cuts and bruises on my face. "Eli, I need to get you checked out," she said firmly. 

I shook my head slightly, glancing over at Carlos, who stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the ambulance where his father's body was being carefully loaded. "I'm fine, Nance,” I replied. "Carlos needs you more." 

Nancy placed a gentle but firm hand on my arm. "You've been through hell. Don't argue with me, Hayes." 

Hen joined her, her voice soft yet commanding. "Nancy's right. You, Carlos and T.K. all need medical attention. We're escorting you to the hospital and that's non-negotiable ." 

Chimney stepped up beside her, glancing at T.K., "We're not just paramedics tonight, we're also your friends. Let us take care of you." 

T.K. nodded, his face pale but resolute. "Fine, we'll go,” he said quietly, his voice strained. 

Nancy guided me towards one of the ambulances. Hen held onto T.K. arms, helping him to the same ambulance. Carlos lingered near his father's ambulance, his hand gripping the side of the door frame as if letting go would break him.

His gaze was fixed on the medics inside, their movements careful and deliberate as they secured Gabriel's body for transport. 

"Carlos?” Nancy called gently, her tone filled with understanding. He turned his head slightly, his expression torn between fury and sorrow. "I...I need to stay with him, Nance,” he stammered. 

Nancy walked up to him, her voice calm but insistent. "You've done everything you could. Now, you need to let us help you. Your father wouldn't want you collapsing from exhaustion or untreated injuries." 

Carlos's jaw tightened as he looked back at the ambulance carrying his father. The red and blue lights painted streaks across his face, highlighting the tears he refused to let fall. Reluctantly, he nodded, allowing Chimney to guide him towards the ambulance where T.K. and I waited. 

Inside the ambulance, Hen, Nancy and Chimney immediately got to work, each slipping into their professional roles despite the emotional weight of the situation. Hen was the first to speak as she shone a penlight into T.K.'s eyes, her expression etched with focused concern.

"You've all taken quite the beating", she said softly, moving the light side to side to check for pupil reactivity. "T.K., you've got a nasty bump on your temple. Any dizziness or nausea?" 

T.K. winced slightly at the light but shook his head. "Just a slight headache,” he murmured. 

"Alright,” Hen replied. "Let's get some ice on that to reduce the swelling." She reached for an ice pack and pressed it gently against his head, her touch careful. 

Nancy moved next to me, her gaze scanning the bruises on my forehead and the cut along my hairline. "Eli, you've got some swelling here. Any blurred vision or ringing in your ears?" 

I hesitated for a moment before answering. "No blurred vision, but my head feels like it's been through Captain Strand's Marlon Blendo. " 

Nancy gave a small smile, though her eyes were filled with worry. "Well, the good news is, I don't see any immediate signs of a brain bleed . But we'll need to get you all for scans, just to be sure." She began cleaning the cut on my head with antiseptic, the sting sharp but bearable. 

Chimney knelt beside Carlos, who sat rigid, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to focus on anything but the chaos around him. Chimney's tone was gentle but firm as he inspected the gash above Carlos's left eyebrow and near his lips. 

"Carlos, this is a superficial cut,” Chimney added, dabbing at the wound with a sterile pad. "I need to know, are you experiencing any dizziness or trouble concentrating?" 

Carlos barely responded, his gaze fixed on the floor. T.K. reached out, gripping his fiancé's hand tightly. "Babe,” T.K. said softly, his voice laced with concern. "Answer him." Carlos blinked, finally registering Chimney's questions. "No dizziness,” he replied. "I'm fine." 

Nancy exchanged a look with Chimney and Hen, the unspoken communication clear: He's definitely not fine, but we'll deal with that in time.  

Hen moved over to Carlos, crouching so she was at his eye level. "I'm going to check your pupils, okay?" she said gently. Carlos nodded stiffly, allowing her to shine the light into his eyes. 

"Pupils are equal and reactive,” Hen said, her tone clinical. She glanced at Nancy and Chimney, then added, "Physically, they're stable. Minor head injuries, some cuts and bruises, nothing life threatening." Nancy nodded, her hand still steadying my head as she finished bandaging the cut. "We got lucky here,” she added. 

"Luck had nothing to do with it,” Chimney interjected, glancing at me, T.K. and Carlos. "You three are tougher than you look." 

Despite the attempt to make the atmosphere less tense, the overall mood remained heavy. Carlos's hand tightened around T.K.'s, and I caught the flicker of guilt in his eyes as he glanced briefly towards me. 

As the ambulance pulled into the hospital bay, the sound of rushing footsteps and the beeping of monitors filled the air. The back doors swung open, revealing a team of nurses and medical staff ready to assist. 

Nancy, Hen and Chimney stepped out first, immediately briefing the nurses on our conditions as stretchers were brought closer. 

"They all sustained minor head injuries with no immediate signs of brain trauma,” Nancy reported. "We require scans to confirm. One of them has a laceration to the forehead, cleaned and dressed en route." 

Carlos, T.K. and I were helped out of the ambulance, each of us declining the stretchers despite the protests from the medical staff. Carlos, in particular, waved them off with a clipped "I can walk" . 

His focus remained elsewhere, his eyes scanning for any signs of his father's body being brought into the hospital. 

As the doctor finished noting Carlos's vitals, he turned towards the door every few seconds, his body tout with tension. "Where's my dad?" Carlos demanded, his voice strained and cracking under the weight of his emotions. 

He swayed slightly on his feet, gripping the edge of the gurney for support. "Mr Reyes..." the doctor began, but Carlos interrupted, his desperation spilling out. 

"Is he here? Is my dad in this hospital??" he asked, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. His voice rose, trembling. "Please tell me he's here. Gabriel Reyes. Where is he?" 

The doctor hesitated, his professional calm faltering as he exchanged a glance with a nurse nearby. "I...I will check for you, Mr Reyes, but you need to..." 

Carlos's frustration boiled over. “I DON'T NEED TO SIT HERE! I NEED TO SEE HIM! HE'S MY FATHER!”

Owen soon stepped forward, his face full of concern and care. "Carlos,” he said gently, his voice firm but soothing. "Look at me". 

Carlos turned to him, his chest heaving as he tried to regulate his breathing. Owen placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "I know how hard this is. Right now, you need to let the medical team take care of you." 

Carlos's lips trembled as he fought back a sob. "I failed him, Captain Strand... I…I shouldn't have gone to that damn storage facility ." 

Owen did not hesitate. He pulled Carlos into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around him with a fatherly strength. "No Carlos. This isn't on you. Do you hear me? You did everything you could and your dad knew how much you loved him." 

Marjan, Paul, Judd, Mateo, Nancy, T.K. and I, joined by Hen and Chimney closed in, forming a supportive circle around Carlos. One by one, we placed our hands on his back and shoulders, surrounding him with warmth and solidarity. 

"You're not alone in this, Reyes." Judd said softly

"We've got you,” Marjan added, her voice steady. 

The hallway was heavy with silence, the tension palpable as everyone anxiously awaited the news about Ravi and Gabriel. 

Finally, long awaited, a doctor in scrubs stepped out of the ward with a clipboard in hand. 

Everyone immediately straightened, eyes glued to the doctor. "How's Ravi doing?" Captain Nash asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern. 

The doctor smiled reassuringly. "He's doing very well. The surgery was successful in repairing the areas near his femoral artery, and there's no sign of complications. He's awake and asking for all of you."

A collective sigh of relief filled the hallway. Smiles broke through the grim expressions as everyone exchanged looks of gratitude. However, before anyone could fidget, the doctor then turned to Carlos. "Are you Mr Carlos Reyes?" 

Carlos stepped forward, his expression tightening. "Yes, that's me. Is this about my dad? Is my dad here?" 

The doctor's face grew solemn. "Yes, your dad, Gabriel, is in the morgue. I need you to accompany me to finalize our legal documents. Lastly, I'm very sorry for your loss ." 

Carlos inhaled sharply, his lips trembling. T.K. immediately stepped to his side, gripping his shoulder in silent support . "I'll come with you, babe," T.K. said softly, his voice steady despite the grief planted on his face. 

I stood frozen , torn between wanting to stay with Carlos and wanting to see Ravi. My chest tightened as I shifted on my feet, unsure of what to do. That's when Owen placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Eli, go see Ravi," he said kindly. 

"Carlos and T.K. have me and Sergeant Grant and we'll take care of things together. He's your lifesaver ; he'll want to see you." I nodded hesitantly, feeling an odd sense of guilt but knowing Owen was right. With one last look at Carlos and T.K., I turned and followed the rest of the group into Ravi's ward. 

Meanwhile in Ravi's Ward...

Inside, Ravi was already sitting upright on his bed, a sheepish grin on his face. "Well, look who decided to show up", he quipped, wincing slightly as he shifted. "I hope you guys brought snacks because this hospital food is tragic !" 

Buck, Eddie, Hen, Chimney and Captain Nash were the first to rush forward, enveloping Ravi in a collective hug. Hen playfully smacked his arm. "Probie, don't ever scare us like that again,” she said as a sense of relief gushed upon her. 

Chimney chuckled. "You've got a knack for drama, huh, Probie? Next time, maybe try keeping all your blood inside your body." 

Buck, as usual, could not resist a comment. "I mean, you did great, but running into a warehouse alone? That's so season one rookie mistake." 

Ravi groaned. "Please, Buck, don't even start. My leg hurts more when you talk." Everyone laughed, the tension easing slightly as the 126 began to file into the ward. 

I was the last to enter, my eyes immediately locking with Ravi's. He gave me a small, apologetic smile. "Eli..." 

I could not hold it in anymore. Tears welled up as I crossed the room and threw my arms around him, ignoring his startled grunt. "Thank you, Ravi,” I whispered, my voice breaking. "Thank you for saving our lives. You... you're a hero." 

Ravi patted my back awkwardly. "Hey, hey, don't cry, man. You're gonna make me cry too." His tone softened as he added, "I'm sorry, Eli. I should've..." 

"Don't,” I interrupted, pulling back to look him in the eye. "It's not your fault. You did everything you could. You're a hero, Ravi. You and Gabriel." At the mention of Gabriel, the room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the loss settling over everyone. 

Ravi nodded solemnly and looked at everyone, his expression suddenly more serious. "There's something I need to share. Gabriel... he told me a lot about Carlos and T.K. while we were on our way to the docks." 

Everyone leaned in slightly, sensing the shift in tone. 

"He told me how proud he was of Carlos for the man he became, especially after all the struggles he had to face. He said something about how T.K. brought out the best in Carlos - how together, they're faced their demons and came out stronger. He was so proud of the both of them... like genuinely you could feel it in his voice. It made me think about how much love he had for his son." 

Bobby stepped forward, placing a hand on Ravi's shoulder. "You know, Ravi, what Gabriel said speaks to something we all learn in this line of work. How important it is to have someone by your side who believes in you, even when you doubt yourself. Carlos and T.K. are living proof of that. Hearing this from you... it's a reminder to cherish those connections while we have them ." 

Ravi nodded, his usual humor subdued. "Yeah, it really hit me, Cap. Sir Reyes had so much hope for them, and it just... I don't know. It makes me want to be better, not just for myself, but for everyone." 

Judd, who had been standing by the window, stepped forward. He reached up and touched the tattoo on his hand. The ink, bold yet simple, read Psalm 31.

Ravi's curious eyes locked onto it. "Judd, what's the meaning behind that? Why Psalm 31? " 

Judd glanced down at his hand, his expression softening as a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Long story short between my wife, Grace and I. But it's a reminder," he said. " Psalm 31 talks about takin’ refuge in faith, about findin’ strength in the face of fear and uncertainty. Whenever I look at this, it reminds me that even when life feels out of control, there's a strength bigger than me, carrying me through." 

He paused, looking Ravi square in the eyes. "It also reminds me of the people I care about, the ones I fight for. Gabriel fought for his family and for what he believed in. And you, kid - you didn't back down either. You stood up even when it was dangerous." 

Ravi swallowed hard, his voice wavering as he responded, "I... I don't feel like I did enough though. Gabriel..." His words faltered. Judd placed a firm hand on Ravi's shoulder, steady and reassuring. 

"You did what you could and that's all anyone can ever ask. We're human, kid. We can't save everyone, but we can honor those we lose by carrying their legacy forward ." 

Ravi nodded slowly, his expression shifting from guilt to determination. "Thanks, Judd. Well, I guess... Amen right?"

Judd's lips curled into a warm smile. "Anytime, kid." 

Meanwhile at the morgue

The room was cold, sterile and oppressively quiet except for that slight hum of a fluorescent light overhead. Carlos stood before the cold, steel table, his trembling hands resting on the white sheet that covered his father's body. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a battle to hold himself together. T.K. stood close, his steady presence offering silent support, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears. 

As the doctor stepped forward, his voice gently but heavy and addressed Carlos. "Mr Reyes, I need you to confirm the identity of the deceased. Is this your father?" 

Carlos froze, his legs feeling like lead beneath him. T.K. reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We're here, babe,” he said softly. Carlos nodded, his gaze fixed on the sheet. The doctor carefully folded it back, revealing Gabriel Reyes' face, serene and still. 

"Dad,” Carlos whispered, his voice breaking as he stumbled forward. His knees nearly gave out, but T.K. caught him, steadying him as he leaned over the body. "Dad, I'm so sorry..." 

From the doorway, Andrea Reyes rushed in, her face pale and stricken. She stopped abruptly when her eyes landed on the table, her hand covering her mouth as she let out a broken sob. 

"No...Gabriel... mi amor ..." she whispered, hurrying to Carlos' side. Carlos turned to her, his face streaked with tears. " Mamá ...I couldn't save him. I tried, I swear I tried." 

Andrea wrapped her arms around him, her own tears falling freely. "It's not your fault, mijo . He wouldn't want you to think that. He loved you so much, so, so much. He knew how hard you fought." 

Carlos's lips quivered as fresh tears fell. "He didn't deserve this, Mom. None of this." 

Andrea pulled him close, holding him as tightly as she could. " Lo sé, cariño. Lo sé... "

Behind them, T.K. stood quietly, his hands clasped tightly in front of him as his own tears fell. He wanted to be strong for Carlos, but the sight of his fiancé broken with grief was too much to bear. His breath hitched as he took a step forward, his eyes locked on Gabriel's still form. 

Andrea noticed and gently released Carlos. She stepped towards T.K., her arms opening wide. "Come here, T.K.,” she said softly. T.K. hesitated for only a moment before falling into her embrace, his own sobs finally breaking free. 

"I'm so sorry, Andrea. I'm so sorry..." Andrea held him tightly, one hand cradling the back of his head as he cried. "Oh, T.K.,” she said gently, her voice filled with motherly warmth despite her own grief. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You've been his rock through everything. Gabriel would have been so proud of you, just as he was proud of Carlos." 

Carlos watched the exchange, his heart twisting painfully. He moved to T.K.'s side as he clung onto T.K.'s hands tightly. "Babe, you didn't fail him", he said through his tears. T.K. nodded, though his sobs continued. Andrea pulled them both into a hug, her arms encircling them. 

"We're a family", she said. "We'll get through this together." 

From the doorway, Owen and Athena stood, their hearts breaking as they watched the family grieve. Owen's eyes were glassy, and he blinked hard, trying to maintain his composure. Athena wiped a tear from her cheek, her hand resting on Owen's arm for support. 

As the doctor approached to finalize the process, Andrea released Carlos and T.K. with a lingering squeeze of their hands. "Say your goodbyes", she whispered, stepping back to give them space. 

Carlos turned to his father, his hand trembling as he rested it on his father's chest. "I'm sorry, Dad," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much. Thank you for teaching me how to be strong... for loving me unconditionally. I'll carry you with me, always." 

T.K. joined him, his hand resting beside Carlos'. "Gabriel, thank you for everything. For raising the man I love... for trusting me to take care of him. I promise I won't let you down." 

Andrea stepped forward, her voice steady but laced with sorrow. " Mi amor ... we'll make sure your legacy lives on. We'll carry your strength and love with us every day." 

As the doctor gently covered Gabriel's face, Carlos reached out, brushing his hand over the sheet one last time. His tears fell silently. As they left the morgue, Andrea and Owen kept their arms around Carlos and T.K., holding them close. 

"Dad,” T.K. began hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need to apologize... I should've called you, let you know when Eli and I left the house to go to the storage facility. I should've called you, let you know what we were doing. If I had, maybe things would've... The adrenaline rush I felt that night was unexplainable and I..." 

Owen stopped abruptly, turning to face his son. His expression was gentle but firm. "T.K., stop", Owen said, his voice steady. "You don't need to apologize. You and Eli did what you thought was right at the moment. You went to the aid of Carlos and that's what matters. I would've done the same thing if I were in your shoes." 

"But..." T.K. started, his voice cracking. 

"No, son,” Owen interrupted, shaking his head. "The most important thing right now is that you, Eli and Carlos are safe. That's all that matters to me. What happened out there, it was terrifying and it could've gone so much worse, but you're here. You and Carlos are my sons, and I'm proud of the both of you." 

Carlos overheard the conversation as him and T.K. clung onto both sides of Owen's arms, letting those words sink in as they made their way towards Ravi's hospital ward.

As they approached the door, the other members of the 126 and 118 who had been waiting patiently turned their attention towards them. "Carlos! T.K.!" Hen was the first to call out, rushing over with Chimney right behind her. Buck and Eddie followed close, their expressions a mix of relief and concern. 

"You two okay?" Buck asked, his tone softened. Carlos nodded weakly, though his blood shot eyes betrayed the deep sorrow still etched in his heart. "We're okay,” he said. T.K. gave a small nod, but his attention was soon drawn to me. 

Sitting next to Ravi's bed, my face was pale and as our eyes met, tears began streaming down my cheeks again . Seeing them safe and together after everything that had happened was too much. 

Carlos and T.K. immediately crossed the room to me. Without hesitation, they pulled me into a tight hug, our shared trauma binding us together in an unspoken understanding. 

"We made it", Carlos whispered, his voice cracking. "We're here."

As the hug lingered, the rest of the room grew quiet until Mateo's voice broke through the silence. 

"Hey, maybe we should..." 

"Probie!" Marjan cut him off sharply, narrowing her eyes. "Don't you dare. Do you want me to find that tape again ?" 

Mateo shut his mouth quickly, his hands raised in surrender, drawing a chuckle from Buck and Eddie. Carlos and T.K. then turned their attention to Ravi, who was propped up in bed with a sheepish grin on his face. 

"Ravi,” Carlos started, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you. For everything. You sacrificed your life to save us. I don't think we can ever repay you." 

T.K. nodded, stepping closer. "We owe you, Ravi. Big time." 

Ravi looked up at them with a faint smile, but as he shifted slightly in bed, his eyes glinted with mischief. 

"Well,” Ravi started, his tone light, "I wouldn't say I saved you guys exactly. I mean, I barely even made it to you guys before I got shot thanks to that moron." He winced playfully though the pain from his injury was still apparent. 

"I think I got more injured trying to get to you guys than I actually did saving anyone!" 

The room erupted into laughter despite the heaviness of the situation. Carlos chuckled, shaking his head. "You've got a lot more fight in you than you give yourself credit for, Ravi." 

T.K. smirked, nudging Carlos. "Maybe next time, you can leave the heroics to the rest of us and let Ravi sit back and relax a bit." 

Ravi grinned, despite the pain. "Hey, I did try to sit back and relax. But I'm a sucker for a good rescue mission." He paused, giving them a mock serious look. "Just... maybe next time, I'll take a slightly less dramatic approach. No more running in guns blazing." 

Everyone laughed again, it sounded like a much needed reprieve from the overwhelming emotions that had been building all day in everyone. 

"Thank you, though, Ravi", Carlos said, his voice growing sincere once more. "Really, you're a hero."

Then Athena turned to me. Her expression was warm, but her tone was firm as she asked, "Eli, is there anything else you would like to say?" I hesitated, my throat tightening. The weight of everything - the letters, the messages, the relentless danger came crashing down. Overcome with emotions, I stepped forward and addressed everyone. 

"When I left L.A.,” I began, my voice trembling, "I didn't know what I was looking for. I was lost, lonely and scared . And then the 126 found me during the grocery store fire. You all welcomed me with open arms, even when I didn't think I deserved it." 

My voice cracked and I wiped my eyes. "I'm so sorry for dragging you all into this mess . The letters, the messages... all of it. It's finally over, but it came at such a cost. Gabriel... " My voice faltered as I glanced at Carlos and Andrea, tears streaming down their eyes. 

"You didn't make anything worse, Eli," Captain Strand replied, his voice calm but unshakable. "You're not to blame for what happened. You were a victim just like the rest of us. You fought, you survived, and you did what you had to do. And now you have us."

Nancy gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You've always had us. And we'll always have your back. Don't you ever forget that ."

I swallowed hard, the tears threatening to spill again, but I held them back. "Thank you," I whispered, looking around the room at the faces that had become my home. "Thank you, all of you, for everything."

Captain Nash stepped forward, his tone gentle but unwavering. "Eli, as far as the 118 is concerned, if you ever come back to L.A., you're not a stranger to us too." 

Just as I was taking a moment to process all of that, Buck, ever the energetic presence in the room, shifted the conversation.

"So, Captain Strand,” Buck began, a grin spreading across his face. "If I'm gonna focus on improving the 118 firehouse , where do I start? Which part do you think we really need to work on first?" 

Without missing a beat, Owen straightened up, his usual thoughtful expression settling in as he began his answer. "Well, Buck, it's obvious, isn't it?" He paused dramatically, before continuing. "The bathrooms , of course." 

T.K.'s eyes immediately rolled in that signature way he did when he knew where this was headed. He let out an exaggerated sigh, muttering under his breath, " Oh Dad, not again... " 

Owen was on a roll, completely ignoring his son's obvious annoyance. "The shared bathrooms are the key. You've got to have a space where people can relax, unwind and really take care of themselves. Skincare is crucial, especially after a tough shift. You're not gonna be at your best if your skin isn't healthy, right?" He gave a little nod as if he were imparting the wisdom of the ages.  

"Seriously, Dad?" T.K. grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. "We're back to the skincare talk?" 

"Oh, it's important!" Owen replied earnestly, turning to face the rest of the group. "When you're running around in full gear, sweating in every direction, you need that time to refresh, to rehydrate, to give your skin what it deserves. A good skincare routine can make all the difference."

Buck, not wanting to miss a chance to play along, raised his hand excitedly. "Do you think we should add some more exfoliating scrubs? Maybe some more of those fancy moisturizers?"

Captain Strand nodded vigorously. "Absolutely. Exfoliate, hydrate, repeat. It's a firehouse secret to success."

T.K. threw his head back, muttering, "I swear, if anyone brings out a face mask, I'm out of here."

Chapter Text

The morning of Gabriel Reyes' funeral arrived far too quickly, and I had not slept a wink. My chest felt heavy, and every time I closed my eyes, the memories of the warehouse, the fire, and Gabriel's final moments replayed in my mind like a cruel loop.

I gave up on sleep around 4 a.m. and shuffled into the living room, the house was quiet in the predawn stillness except for the soft hum of the air conditioner that filled the silence as I made my way to the kitchen. My stomach was too unsettled for anything heavy, so I decided to make a cup of chamomile tea - just enough to take the edge off my nerves without upsetting my weak stomach. The faint floral aroma filled the room as I poured the hot water over the tea bag, watching as the golden hue swirled into the cup.

Sipping the tea slowly, I let myself sink into the couch, staring out the window at the faint streaks of light beginning to touch the horizon. My thoughts were a jumbled mess of grief, guilt, and anticipation for the day ahead.

The sound of soft footsteps down the hallway pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. I looked up to see Owen standing in the doorway, his face etched with surprise and concern. His hair was slightly mussed, and he wore a simple gray t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Eli?" he asked, his voice low but warm. "What are you doing up this early?"

I managed a small, tired smile. "Couldn't sleep, Cap," I admitted, gesturing to my cup. "Figured a little chamomile tea might help."

Owen stepped closer, his eyebrows raised as he sat down in the armchair across from me. "It's going to be a long day, Eli," he said gently. "You should try to rest, even if it's just for a little while."

I shrugged, my fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of the mug. "I tried, Cap. Every time I close my eyes, it's just...everything. The letters, the warehouse, Gabriel...it's all there."

Owen nodded, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I get it, Eli. Days like this, they stay with you, but we're all in this together."

His words brought a lump to my throat, and I stared into my tea, my vision blurring slightly. "It just feels so close," I whispered. "Losing my parents, now this...watching Carlos and Andrea go through it...it's like I'm reliving it all over again."

Owen reached out, placing a comforting hand on my knee. "You've been through more than most, Eli. You have us around you and today, we're going to honor Gabriel the way he deserves."

I nodded, swallowing hard as I tried to steady myself. "Thank you, Cap. For everything."

He gave my knee a light squeeze before standing. "You finish that tea," he said with a small smile. "Then get back to bed and rest. We're going to need all the strength we can muster today."

Reluctantly, I drained the last of the tea, rinsed out the mug, and trudged back to the guest bedroom. The bed was no more inviting than it had been earlier, but Owen's words lingered in my mind. I forced myself to lie down, focusing on my breathing, letting the steady rhythm of my heart and the faint warmth of the tea lull me into a fragile sense of calm.

To my surprise, I managed to doze off, the exhaustion finally overtaking my restless thoughts. It was definitely not a peaceful sleep, but it was something. I stirred to the sound of raindrops pattering against the window. The soft rhythm was almost soothing, but then a faint creak outside my door made my heart jump. I sat up, wiping the sleep from my eyes, and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.

The door opened just as I reached for it, and I was startled to find Owen standing there. He was already dressed in his formal uniform, the deep navy blue fabric impeccably pressed. The polished brass buttons gleamed even in the soft light spilling from the hallway.

Owen's expression was calm but firm, though he quickly held up a hand when he saw my slight shock. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he said quietly. "The rain's starting to pick up, and we need to get moving soon. Get dressed, Eli. We're meeting everyone at the cemetery."

I nodded, my heart still racing from the unexpected jolt. The sight of Owen in his formal uniform only deepened the knot of emotion tightening in my chest. "Alright, Cap. I'll be ready shortly."

Owen lingered for a moment, his gaze steady and full of concern. "You doing okay?" he asked softly.

I hesitated, then gave him a small nod. "As okay as I can be, I guess."

He gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder, his hand resting there for a moment longer than usual. "Take your time, but not too much," he said with a faint smile. "I'll be waiting."

As soon as Owen left, I sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, letting out a long breath to steady myself. The soft pattering of rain against the window reminded me that time was ticking, and I couldn't sit there forever. I stood up, grabbed my toiletries, and made my way to the bathroom to get washed up.

After cleaning up, I returned to the guest room where I pulled on the black suit I had carefully laid out the night before, and braced myself for what lay ahead.

"Looking sharp, Eli," he said with a small nod of approval. "Now, shall we get going?"

I nodded. "Yeah, Cap, let's go," I replied softly, my voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside me.

--

Gabriel's funeral service was held at a sprawling cemetery reserved for fallen officers and Rangers, a place where heroes rested among the oak trees that stretched their branches toward the heavens. The air was crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the distant sound of bagpipes as the honor guard prepared for the procession.

The rain did not falter, the steady rhythm of droplets pattering against umbrellas and the ground. It was as if the skies themselves were mourning, their tears mixing with the grief of those gathered.

The city had come together to honor a man whose legacy extended far beyond the badge he wore - a Texas Ranger, a devoted father, and an unyielding protector of justice.

As Owen and I arrived at the cemetery, my heart tightened as I caught sight of T.K., Carlos, and Andrea standing just ahead, their expressions a blend of strength and raw emotion.

T.K. was dressed in his formal paramedic uniform, the dark fabric crisp and neatly pressed. His posture was composed, though I could see the faint strain in his face.

Beside him stood Carlos, wearing his APD ceremonial uniform. The deep blue of his jacket contrasted against the somber gray of the sky.

Andrea, dressed in an elegant yet understated black dress, stood with an air of quiet dignity. Her face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line as she greeted each arriving guest with a nod and a faint smile.

As Owen and I stepped closer, they turned to greet us. Andrea reached out first, her hand briefly resting on Owen's arm before she turned to me. Her eyes, brimming with unshed tears, softened as she spoke. "Thank you for coming," she said softly, her voice steady despite the tremor beneath it. "It means so much to have you both here."

Carlos and T.K. stepped forward next. T.K. gave his father a quick, tight hug before turning to me. "Hey, Eli," he said, his voice low and heavy with emotion. "Thanks for being here."

"Looking sharp, Hayes," Carlos added, managing a faint, appreciative smile as he adjusted the ceremonial hat tucked under his arm. Together, the five of us made our way towards the gathering crowd, preparing the start of the service.

--

Owen and I moved through the crowd, searching for our seats near the front row, a familiar voice rang out above the soft buzz of conversations and the steady patter of rain.

"Cap! Eli! Over here!"

We turned towards the sound, and there they were - the 126 - standing together and waving us over. Judd was the one who had called out, his hand raised in the air to signal us. Marjan stood beside him, her vibrant energy subdued but still present in the warmth of her smile. Mateo waved enthusiastically despite the somber mood, while Paul and Nancy nodded in quiet acknowledgment.

Owen smiled faintly, his usual composed demeanor softening as he raised a hand in response. "Looks like we've got our spot," he said, motioning for me to follow him.

As we approached, Judd stepped forward, clapping Owen on the shoulder. "Glad y'all made it. We saved you a couple of seats right here," he said, gesturing to two empty spots near the middle of their group.

Marjan reached out to give me a quick side hug as we settled in. "You guys good?" she asked, her voice low and gentle.

I nodded, managing a small smile. "So far, great, Marj, but who know's when the tears will come again," I replied honestly.

"Figured you'd want to sit with the family," Mateo added, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. "After all, we're all family here."

As I settled into my seat beside Owen, I instinctively glanced around the gathering. My gaze drifted to the row diagonally across from us, where I caught sight of Captain Nash and his team - the 118. Hen, Chimney, Buck and Eddie all gave a faint, gentle wave while Captain Nash gave me a firm nod, his expression steady yet full of empathy.

--

Soon, the service began with the slow, measured beat of a snare drum, the rhythm echoing across the grounds. A line of Texas Rangers, dressed in full ceremonial attire, marched in synchronization, their hats held solemnly at their sides.

Gabriel's flag-draped casket was carried by six Rangers, their steps steady and deliberate. The folded Texas flag resting atop the casket bore the emblem of the Rangers, a symbol of the unbroken commitment to justice Gabriel had upheld throughout his life Behind them, T.K., Carlos, and Andrea followed closely, walking solemnly.

I could not tear my eyes away from the sight. My throat tightened, and tears welled up as memories of my parents surged to the surface. The overwhelming grief I had tried so hard to bury threatened to rise again.

A hand on my shoulder startled me. I turned to see Nancy, her expression soft and understanding. "Eli," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the drumbeat. "You're going to be okay."

I nodded, swallowing hard as I tried to steady my breathing. Her reassurance, small as it seemed, grounded me in that moment.

The ceremony was led by a chaplain, an older man with a calm and steady voice that carried through the rain soaked air. Standing at the front of the gathered mourners, he adjusted his glasses and began, his words carrying the weight of the moment 

"Today, we are gathered here to celebrate the life of a fallen hero, a man whose unwavering courage, steadfast dedication, and unshakable integrity made him a pillar of this community. Gabriel Reyes was not just a Texas Ranger. He was a husband, a father, a mentor, and a friend. His presence left an indelible mark on everyone fortunate enough to cross paths with him."

The chaplain paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, his eyes resting briefly on Andrea, Carlos, and T.K. "To Ranger Reyes' family - his beloved wife Andrea Reyes, his son Carlos Reyes, and his son-in-law Tyler Kennedy Strand - your loss is immeasurable, and yet so is the legacy that Ranger Reyes leaves behind. He was a man who stood for justice, who fought for those who could not fight for themselves, and who believed in the power of good in the face of adversity."

"Gabriel's life was one of service - service to his family, to his community, and to the great state of Texas. He stood as a beacon of light in times of darkness, a reminder that even in our most difficult moments, we must strive to do what is right. His actions were not driven by a need for recognition or glory, but by an innate understanding of what it means to be honorable."

He paused again, his voice softening. "As a Ranger, Reyes upheld the highest ideals of his profession, but he was so much more than the badge he wore. He was a man of deep compassion, unwavering resolve, and boundless love for his family. His bravery did not end in the line of duty; it extended into his home, where he taught his son and all who knew him what it meant to live with honor."

The chaplain turned his gaze towards the casket, the flag draped over it wet but unwavering in the rain. "Today, we lay to rest a man who lived a life of purpose. But as we say goodbye to Gabriel in body, let us hold onto the spirit of who he was. Let his courage inspire us to stand strong in the face of challenges. Let his love remind us of the importance of family. And let his dedication to justice remind us to always strive to do what is right."

A hush fell over the crowd as the chaplain bowed his head in prayer. "Lord, we ask for your comfort as we say goodbye to a man who meant so much to so many. We pray for strength for his family, peace for his soul, and the courage to carry forward his legacy. Rest in peace, Ranger Gabriel Reyes, for you will never be forgotten."

The crowd murmured a solemn "Amen,"

"And now, we will take this moment to hear from those who knew Gabriel best - his family. It is time for the farewell speeches."

"First," the chaplain announced, "we will hear from Andrea Reyes, Gabriel's beloved wife."

All eyes turned toward Andrea as she rose from her seat. Despite the grief that clung to her like the dampness of the rain, she carried herself with quiet dignity. Her black dress billowed slightly in the wind, and she clutched a small handkerchief tightly in one hand as she walked towards the podium.

Reaching the stand, Andrea paused, her hands gripping the edges of the wooden lectern. She took a deep breath, her gaze dropping briefly to the casket before lifting to meet the crowd.

"Gabriel was not just my husband; he was my partner in every sense of the word," she began, her voice shaking but resolute. "For over three decades, he stood by my side, unwavering in his love and his devotion. He believed in doing what was right, no matter the cost, and he lived that belief every single day."

She paused for a moment, glancing down at the casket draped in the Texas Ranger flag, as if gathering strength from the memories it held. Her voice softened as she continued, "Gabriel was more than the badge he wore. He was a protector, a guide, and above all, a father who loved his son more than anything in this world."

Andrea's gaze shifted to Carlos, who stood with T.K. by his side, their hands intertwined in quiet solidarity. Her voice faltered slightly as she spoke directly to him. "To my dear Carlitos, he was so proud of you. Of the man you've become. Every choice you've made, every step you've taken to serve and protect - he saw it. He felt it. And I know he'll always be watching over you."

Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she pressed on, her voice growing stronger. "Gabriel had a way of making everyone around him feel safe, feel seen. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he never let it show. He always found time for family dinners, for laughter, for love. No matter how hard his day had been, he came home with that smile, the one that told us everything would be okay."

The rain fell harder, the rhythmic patter blending with the quiet sniffles of the mourners. Andrea's hands tightened on the podium as she looked out at the sea of faces. "To everyone here today, thank you. Thank you for honoring my husband, for standing with us as we say goodbye to a man who gave everything for the people he loved and the community he served."

"And to those who might not be physically present but are joining us in spirit," she continued, her voice steadying as she spoke. "Whether you are part of this journey with us through AO3, Wattpad, or any other platform where this story has reached you - thank you. Your support, your compassion, and the way you've embraced our family's story mean more than words can express. You remind us that even in the darkest times, we are not alone."

She took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she added, "Gabriel's life was a light, and though that light has gone out, it leaves behind a legacy that will guide us all. To my son, Carlitos, and to you, T.K., I know you'll carry that light forward . Together, you'll make him proud every single day."

Her final words were barely above a whisper, carried on the wind and the rain. "Goodbye, mi amor . Rest now."

Andrea stepped down from the podium, her tears mingling with the rain as Carlos stepped forwards to meet her. She leaned into his embrace, and T.K. wrapped an arm around them both.

The crowd remained silent, their heads bowed in respect, as Andrea returned to her seat.

Carlos was next to give his speech. As he approached the podium, T.K. walked beside him, a steadying hand on his back, his presence offering unwavering support. As they reached the podium, Carlos gripped its edges tightly, taking a shaky breath before speaking.

" Dad, " Carlos began, his voice raw and trembling, " you were my hero ."

He paused as he swallowed hard, his emotions overwhelmed him. T.K. stood close, his hand resting lightly on Carlos' shoulder, silently urging him to continue.

"You taught me everything I know about being a man," Carlos continued, his voice cracking. "About standing up for what's right, even when it's hard. You showed me that integrity and love aren't just words - they're a way of life."

His gaze lifted momentarily to the casket draped with the Texas flag, then back to the crowd.

" Dad, I promise you ," Carlos said after a deep breath, "I'll carry on your legacy. I'll make you proud . I'll take everything you taught me - your love, your courage, your unshakable belief in doing what's right - and I'll carry it forward. You will always be a part of me, Dad."

Carlos paused, his head bowing slightly as tears streamed down his face. His hand moved instinctively to his heart. "And I'll never forget the life lessons you taught me, and the sacrifices you made. Thank you for everything."

As he stepped away from the podium, his composure finally broke. T.K. met him halfway, wrapping him in a fierce embrace. Carlos clung to him tightly as T.K. whispered soft reassurances into his ear.

One by one, the dam of emotions broke for everyone present.

All of us started sobbing - quiet, heart-wrenching sobs that filled the otherwise solemn silence. Even Owen reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief, dabbing at his tears as he watched Carlos return to his seat.

Beside me, Nancy sniffled audibly, her shoulders trembling as she tried to keep it together. I could not hold back my tears any longer, either. Tears blurred my vision as I turned to Nancy, instinctively pulling her into a tight hug.

"It's okay," I murmured through my sobs, though I was not sure if I was trying to reassure her or myself. "Oh gosh, this is always the hardest part ..."

The chaplain then stepped forward, his voice calm but resonant as he addressed the gathered crowd. "Thank you, Andrea and Carlos, for your heartfelt words. Your strength today proves how great Gabriel was and the family he built. We will now continue with the ceremony to honor his legacy."

Soon, the chaplain's words marked the transition to the final rites. All around, the Rangers stood at attention, their stoic faces masking the emotions that undoubtedly stirred beneath their uniforms.

The commanding officer of the honor guard stepped forward, his voice cutting through the silence with crisp authority. "Honor guard, prepare for the 21-gun salute !"

The Rangers raised their rifles at the same moment, their movements so synchronized it was as if they had been practicing for ages. The sight alone was enough to draw a collective intake of breath from the gathered crowd and I could feel the tension rise.

The commanding officer gave the first command. "Ready!" The Rangers raised their rifles to their shoulders, the barrels angled toward the sky.

"Aim!" The Rangers steadied their stance, their movements fluid and disciplined.

"Fire!" The first volley rang out, sharp and powerful. The sound reverberated across the cemetery, cutting through the steady rhythm of the rain. 

The commanding officer's voice rang out again. "Ready! Aim! Fire!" The second volley followed, just as precise and impactful as the first. Around me, I could see others flinch slightly at the sound, their faces etched with emotion.

The final command was given. " Ready! Aim! Fire!" The third and final volley echoed through the cemetery, the cracks of the rifles fading into the somber stillness of the rain-soaked morning.

The Rangers then lowered their rifles, their movements deliberate and respectful. As they returned to their formal stance, the commanding officer called out, "Present arms!" The Rangers brought their rifles upright in a final salute, holding the position with unwavering discipline.

As the gunfire faded, the honor guard stepped forward to perform the flag ceremony. The Texas flag, which had draped Gabriel's casket throughout the service, was slowly and meticulously folded. 

When the flag was folded completely, the lead Ranger turned and approached Andrea. He knelt before her, his gloved hands extending the flag as he spoke softly, his voice filled with reverence. 

"Ma’am, on behalf of a grateful state and the Texas Rangers, we present this flag as a symbol of your husband's unwavering dedication and service."

Andrea accepted the flag with trembling hands, pulling it tightly against her chest as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. Carlos reached out, his hand resting gently on her shoulder, while T.K. stood silently beside him, his eyes fixed on the ground.

The final note of the ceremony came in the form of a lone bugler. Standing at a distance, his silhouette framed against the rain-speckled horizon, he lifted the brass instrument to his lips and began to play "Taps."  

The mournful, haunting melody filled the air, each note carrying with it a deep sense of loss and gratitude. The melody echoed across the cemetery, creating a symphony of remembrance.

As the final, mournful notes of "Taps" echoed through the rain soaked cemetery, Gabriel's casket was gently lowered into the grave below. The sight was both reverent and heart wrenching.

The Texas Rangers stood in formation, their hats held tightly against their chests as they paid their last respects. Andrea clutched the folded flag tightly to her chest, her tear-filled eyes never leaving the casket as it descended further down into its final resting place.

Carlos and T.K. stood on either side of her, each offering a shoulder of support. Carlos' hand rested on his mother's back, his other gripping T.K.'s tightly. T.K., in turn, held onto him as they faced the painful reality together.

As the casket reached the bottom of the grave, one of the Rangers stepped forward, a small tin of Texas soil in his hand. He paused, his face a mask of solemn respect, and sprinkled the soil onto the casket. The sound of the grains hitting the wood was soft but resonant.

One by one, members of the honor guard followed, each sprinkling a small handful of soil into the grave. Andrea stepped forward next, her movements slow and deliberate. She knelt briefly at the edge, then, she gently dropped a single white rose into the grave, the petals stark against the dark soil.

Carlos was next. His steps faltered slightly as he approached, and for a moment, it seemed as if his grief might overwhelm him. T.K. moved to his side, placing a steadying hand on his back. Together, they stood at the edge, their heads bowed. Carlos held his own white rose, trembling in his grip, before finally releasing it. It landed softly atop the casket, a final offering of love and respect.

As I watched, my chest tightened with emotion. I felt a hand on my arm and turned to see Owen, his expression somber but encouraging. "Go on, Eli," he said softly. "Pay your respects."

I stepped forwards hesitantly as I approached the grave. My hands trembled slightly as I held my own white rose, its delicate petals already damp from the rain. I knelt briefly, bowing my head in a silent prayer, before placing the rose alongside the others. " Thank you, Sir, " I whispered, my voice barely audible. " For everything, may you rest in peace ."

The last person to step forward was Owen. He knelt at the edge of the grave, removing his hat and bowing his head.

As we stood there in silence, gazing at Gabriel's final resting place, the clouds above began to part, as though the heavens themselves were acknowledging the life we had just honored. A single beam of sunlight broke through, casting a warm, golden glow over the cemetery. 

Owen stepped forward, his presence commanding but gentle, and motioned for everyone to gather around him. The 126, 118, Athena, Andrea, T.K. and Carlos, moved closer. Owen's eyes scanned the group, his face a mixture of resolve and tenderness.

He cleared his throat as he began to speak. "I know today has been heavy on all of us. Gabriel was more than a Texas Ranger, more than a father, more than a friend - he was an example of what it means to live with integrity and purpose. And while we grieve his loss, let's not forget the lessons he taught all of us ."

He paused, glancing at each of us as his words settled over the group. " Life will challenge us. It will test us in ways we never imagined. But we have to remember that we're never alone. Look around you . " He gestured to the group. " We're here for each other. Through the heartbreak, through the uncertainty, through it all - we are stronger together ."

Owen's voice softened as he added, "Gabriel's legacy isn't just in what he did as a Ranger; it's in the people he left behind. It's in Carlos, T.K., and Andrea. It's in each of us who carry his memory forward. So let's honor him by supporting one another, by choosing kindness, courage, and love - every single day ."

There was a moment of quiet as everyone absorbed his words. Then, at Owen's prompting, we all linked arms or reached out to hold each other's hands, forming an unbroken circle . As we stood there, holding onto one another, Owen placed his hand on Carlos' shoulder.

Carlos looked around at all of us, his eyes still glistening with tears but softened with gratitude. "Thank you," he said, his voice low but full of sincerity. "Thank you guys for everything - your love, your support, your strength. It's because of all of you that I've found some closure today. I know it's not complete, but...it's a start. And I'll be okay, because I have all of you ."

T.K. squeezed Carlos' hand, smiling through his own tears, and Andrea leaned into her son, her quiet presence filled with love. The circle tightened as we all leaned in for a group hug, the warmth and comfort of the moment wrapping around us like a blanket.

After a moment, the silence was broken by Buck, whose signature grin made a welcome return to his face. "Alright," he said, his voice cutting through the emotional heaviness. "I don't know about you all, but I'm starving. Who's up for pizza?"

The group chuckled, the lightheartedness a much needed reprieve. Eddie smirked, shaking his head. "Leave it to you, Buck, to think about food at a time like this."

Buck shrugged, unbothered. "Hey, Ranger Reyes would've wanted us to celebrate his life, right? And nothing says celebration like a good slice of pepperoni ."

Nancy nudged me with a small laugh. "He's got a point, you know, Eli."

Marjan grinned. "I'm in. As long as there's pineapple-free options."

"Pineapple on pizza is a crime against humanity," Mateo chimed in, earning groans and protests from a few in the group.

Carlos wiped his eyes and managed a small, genuine smile. "Pizza sounds perfect," he said softly. "Thank you, everyone. Really."

--

As everyone began to disperse, making plans for lunch, I lingered for a moment, my gaze falling on Carlos. Seeing him surrounded by so much love and support , having the chance to honor his father with such a beautiful and heartfelt ceremony, brought a faint smile to my face. He had gotten the closure he deserved, and it was clear that, while the pain would remain, he had a strong foundation to carry him forward.

But as the warmth of the moment enveloped me, a cold thought crept into the back of my mind, one that refused to be ignored. My smile faded slightly as I glanced down at the ground.

What about my parents?

The question gnawed at me, sharp and unrelenting. Unlike Carlos, I had not been given the chance to say goodbye. There had been no service, no burial, no closure. The plane crash had taken them so suddenly, and in the chaos that followed - the mysterious letters, the relentless dangers, and the need to protect those around me - I had not stopped to question why I received absolutely no news about their funeral or burial. Not a single detail had reached me. No calls, no emails, nothing.

That’s weird... I thought, my brow furrowing as unease began to settle over me. Surely there would have been something - some kind of notification, some arrangement made by the airline or even by the police department.

I felt a light tap on my shoulder, and I turned to see Nancy standing beside me, her face soft with concern. “You okay, Eli?” she asked gently.

I nodded quickly, forcing a faint smile. “Yeah, I’m fine, Nance!” I replied. 

--

Chapter Text

Instincts are like fire - they can save lives if you learn to harness them, but they can also cause destruction if we let them run wild. The trick is knowing when to trust the flame and when to contain it. There were times when we hesitated, doubted ourselves because we did not want to get it wrong. But the moments we regretted the most were not when we trusted our instincts and failed - they were when we let fear keep us from acting.  

--

The days following Gabriel's funeral were heavy. We went through a hell of a rollercoaster ride, trying to pick up where we left off, but grief lingered like a shadow. Carlos, T.K. and I spent most of our time together, trying to process the chaos that had upended our lives as each of us wrestled with our own emotions.

A few days later, Athena showed up at the firehouse. Her presence was steady and reassuring as always, but there was an air of seriousness about her as she approached us. 

" Boys , I know you're all still grieving," Athena began, her voice gentle yet firm as she addressed Carlos, T.K., and I. "But I wanted to let you know that there will be a trial and sentencing for Caldwell and Washington. Justice will be served, and they will face the consequences of their actions."

Carlos, who had been sitting quietly with his hands clasped tightly in front of him, looked up, his eyes red but filled with determination. "When will the trial happen, Sergeant Grant?" he queried. 

Athena’s gaze softened as she looked between the three of us. She took a deep breath before answering, her tone measured. "The trial is set to happen in a few weeks. The district attorney is building a strong case against both of them, and they've assured me that justice will be pursued to the fullest extent of the law."

I leaned forward slightly, my own curiosity piqued despite the heaviness in my chest. "And will we have the chance to testify? To make sure the full story is heard?"

She paused, her eyes locking onto the three of us. "And yes, if you're up for it, there will be an opportunity for you guys to give impact statements. Your voices are important, and the court needs to hear what they’ve done - not just to Gabriel, but to all of you."

Carlos exchanged a glance with T.K., who gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "We’ll be there, Sergeant Grant," Carlos said firmly, his jaw tightening. "For my dad. For all of us."

Athena nodded, her expression filled with both respect and resolve. "I had no doubt you would be, Carlos. You have more strength than you realize, and your dad would be proud."

She glanced at me next, her gaze steady but compassionate. "Eli, your testimony could also be incredibly impactful. What they put you through - the letters, the manipulation - it’s all part of the story that needs to be told."

I stared at Athena, my heart pounding in my chest. Court? The thought of testifying, of facing those monsters again sent a wave of anxiety as they crashed over me.

--

The day of the trial arrived far too quickly. That morning, I sat on one of the couches in the firehouse, my legs shaking restlessly and nervously. My stomach churned, and my palms were clammy as I tried to focus on my breathing. No matter how much I told myself to stay calm, the thought of standing in court, staring down Caldwell and Washington made me want to bolt.

Nancy noticed my distress and came beside me. Her presence was calming as she placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "You're stronger than you think, Eli," she said softly. "You've already been through the worst. Today is just about making sure they can never hurt anyone again ."

Before I could respond, Owen joined us, his expression caring. "Nancy's right, Eli,” he said, sitting on the armrest of the couch. "You've got this. You're not alone there. We will all be in there with you."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I know, but..." My voice faltered as I struggled to put my fear into words. "I don't know if I can even look at them . Those morons - they didn't just ruin my life; they hurt my friends, my family. Every time I think about what they did, I just..." My voice trailed off, thick with emotions.

Owen leaned forward, his voice steady. "It's okay to feel scared. But today, you have the chance to take back the power they tried to steal from you. They're not in control anymore - you are."

Just then T.K. and Carlos walked in, their expressions determined. "Eli, my dad's right,” T.K. said, taking a seat on my other side. I looked between the three of them - Nancy, Owen and Carlos and felt a surge of gratitude. T.K. placed a comforting hand on my arm. I nodded as I took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's do this."

As we arrived at the courthouse, the weight of the moment hit me again. The grandeur of the building, the buzz of media outside and the sea of uniforms from LAPD, APD, the 126 and the 118 reminded me of just how many people were here to support us.

Before entering, Carlos squeezed my shoulder. "Eli, remember, you're not alone,” he said, his voice steady. "And if you feel overwhelmed, just look at us,” T.K. added. "We'll be right by your side.”

I nodded, swallowing hard as we stepped inside. Before the session began, Athena approached us, her stride confident yet compassionate as she stopped in front of our bench. "Gentlemen, I have some news", she said. " Someone will be representing you today to ensure that Caldwell and Washington face the justice they deserve."

Carlos furrowed his brows. "Who?"

Athena smiled softly, not giving anything away. "You'll see for yourself soon. Trust me."

The three of us shared a puzzled glance but decided not to press further. It was not long before the courtroom clock ticked closer to the scheduled time. Five minutes before the judge was to enter, the side doors opened, and the sound of confident heels clicking against the floor captured everyone's attention.

I turned my head and what I saw rendered me completely speechless. A tall, strikingly elegant woman walked in, her presence commanding the entire room. Her hair was styled into soft curls that cascaded around her shoulders. This was not just any woman.

"Wait a second,” I whispered, nudging Carlos and T.K., who were equally stunned. "That's..."

As if sensing our confusion, the woman turned towards us, flashing a confident smile. That's when it hit me.

Tommy Vega .

"CAPTAIN VEGA???" T.K. exclaimed, his voice dripping with disbelief. "Yes, it's me,” she said, her voice smooth yet warm, a slight chuckle escaping her lips at our expressions.

"I owe you all an explanation. I'm sorry that I wasn't with you all during the incident. I've been working on renewing my license to practice law. I thought I'd be rusty, but it turns out it's like riding a bike."

"You were a lawyer before?" Carlos asked, his mouth agape.

"Once upon a time,” she admitted, brushing a curl out of her face. "Before my life in the firehouse, I worked in the corporate world . When this case came up, I knew I had to step in and fight for you guys. But, listen, I know this is going to be one of the toughest days of your lives. I'm here to guide you all through this process, but I need to be clear about something."

The three of us learned in slightly, our focus solely on her.

"I won't be in full control of the case today. While I'll assist and present some of the arguments, the majority of the proceedings will be handled by the prosecutor himself. He's leading this case to ensure the weight of the law is fully behind us and that Caldwell and Washington face the justice they deserve. My role is to support his strategy and to represent your interests when necessary. You will all meet him later when the trial begins."

I glanced nervously at Carlos and T.K., who both nodded in understanding. Carlos tilted his head slightly. "So, what does that mean for us? How much input do we have in what's presented?"

Captain Vega offered a reassuring smile. "You'll have plenty of opportunities to speak your truth, especially during your testimonies. The prosecutor and I are here to guide you, but your voices - your experiences are the most important pieces of this case. Stay honest, stay clear, and trust that we'll steer things in the right direction."

T.K. exhaled sharply, the tension in his shoulders loosening slightly. "Alright. As long as we're still able to say what needs to be said."

"You will," Captain Vega assured him. Then, her gaze softened as she looked at all three of us. "But remember, the courtroom can be unpredictable. Emotions might run high, and the defense will do everything they can to rattle you. Stay focused. Stay strong. You've all been through so much, and today is about ensuring that none of it was for nothing."

I gave a small, nervous laugh. "No pressure, huh?"

Vega smiled warmly, a glint of humor breaking through her professional demeanor. "No pressure. Just justice."

The revelation was still sinking in when I blurted out, "So, Jessica Pearson is back from retirement?" (iykyk! Those who watched Suits!)

Tommy shot me a sharp look, though her lips curved into an amused smirk. "Don't ever use that name again, Hayes."

I held up my hands in mock surrender, the tension breaking as the three of us burst into nervous laughter. The absurdity of the situation - our captain turned lawyer - was just the kind of unexpected twist we needed.

Trial of Nathan Caldwell and Sarina Washington Begins

The courtroom was a sea of tension as the trial began. The judge presiding over the case, Honorable Judge Eleanor Moreno, took her seat at the bench, her sharp gaze scanning the room before settling on the defendants, Nathan Caldwell and Sarina Washington. 

On our side sat a crowd of supporters: the 126, the 118, the LAPD, the APD and the Rangers. Carlos, T.K. and I sat in the front row, flanked by Athena, Owen and Andrea.

Captain Tommy Vega (* Jessica Pearson ftw* !) , our legal representative, stood confidently, her presence alone a source of reassurance. The gavel struck, and the room fell silent as Judge Moreno began the trial.

"Court is now in session for the case of the State of Texas against the defendants, Nathan Caldwell and Sarina Washington . Prosecution, you may call your first witness." A hush fell over the room. My stomach twisted with nerves, but Carlos gave me a reassuring nod. T.K. gently patted my shoulder. I stood, my legs feeling like jell-o as I made my way to the stands.

The prosecutor, a sharp dressed man named Michael Connors, approached the stand. His voice was calm but firm as he addressed me. "Sir, before we begin, I need you to raise your right hand and take the oath ."

I raised my right hand, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Do you solemnly swear and affirm that the testimony you are about to give to the State of Texas is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, under penalty of perjury?"

"I do,” I replied, my voice slightly shaky.

"Sir, please take a seat. State and spell your first and last name for the court", Prosecutor Connors instructed.

"First name is Elliot, E-L-L-I-O-T and last name is Hayes, H-A-Y-E-S." I replied.

"Mr Hayes,” Connors began, "we’ll now start from the beginning. Can you explain when all these started?"

"It all happened when I moved to Texas looking for a fresh start. Instead, I found myself targeted by these two individuals . It began with a letter,” I said, my voice trembling slightly but growing stronger.

Before I could continue, Prosecutor Connors approached me with a sealed evidence bag in his hands. "Your Honor," he said firmly, holding the bag up for all to see, "I'd like to introduce Exhibit A and request permission to have the victim confirm the contents."

Judge Moreno adjusted her glasses, nodding sharply. "Permission granted. Proceed."

Prosecutor Connors turned to me, his expression calm yet focused. "Mr. Hayes, I'm handing you Exhibit A . Please take a moment to examine the contents and confirm their authenticity to the court for record."

He placed the sealed bag gently on the table before me. My fingers hesitated over the edge as the bailiff helped open it. My stomach churned with a mix of dread and anticipation as I peeped inside. Slowly, I studied the contents - a stack of letters, their envelopes now slightly crumpled but unmistakable. 

The first was the letters I had received - the same neat, precise handwriting that had haunted my every waking moment. Next came a folded piece of paper with the airline's logo on the corner, my parents' final letter from the ill-fated flight. Finally, there was a printed screenshot of the cryptic, taunting message I had received on my phone.

I swallowed hard, each item a dagger to the chest, reopening wounds I had barely begun to close. My vision blurred momentarily, but I blinked back the tears and looked up at Prosecutor Connors.

"Mr Hayes," he said, his voice steady and supportive, "are these the letters and messages you previously identified as connected to this case?"

I nodded, my voice shaky but audible. "Yes, they are. These are the letters I received... and this..." I held up the airline letter, my grip tightening, "this was written by my parents before the crash. And that - “ I pointed to the printed message - "was sent to me by the defendants."

The courtroom was silent, every eye fixed on the evidence in my hands. My voice cracked as I added, "These...These are all connected to what happened. To what the defendants did." I glared at Caldwell and Washington, feeling a surge of determination despite the tears threatening to spill.

Prosecutor Connors stepped forward, her tone softening slightly. "Thank you, Mr Hayes. I understand this is difficult, but your testimony, along with these exhibits, is critical in showing the jury just how calculated and malicious the defendants' actions were."

Judge Moreno interjected, her voice firm. "Let the record show that Exhibit A has been verified by the victim."

As the bailiff collected the items and resealed the bag, I took a deep breath, forcing myself to regain composure as I continued with the rest of my testimony.

"Someone in a black hoodie handed it to me at my hotel", I began. "The envelope was unmarked, no return address. Inside was a single line: ' The clock strikes on November 17' . I didn't know what it meant at first, but... I found out soon enough." I swallowed hard, the memories cutting through me like shards of glass.

"On November 17th, I took a 9-1-1 call from a man's son saying that his dad was trapped under his car after an accident. He was pinned, begging for help. I dispatched units immediately, but when first responders arrived..." My voice cracked, and I had to pause.

Prosecutor Connors gave me a moment before prompting gently, "What happened?"

"They tried their best to save the man, but he eventually succumbed to his injuries, leaving his son crying at his side. Defendant #1 was there, watching him die. He let it happen."

"The second letter came not long after. It said just one word: ' Family '." I took a shaky breath. "I thought it was a sign of hope. Defendant #2 was assigned to reunite me with my parents. I believed her, trusted her. But instead..." My voice broke again, tears welling in my eyes.

"She worked with defendant #1 to orchestrate an explosive decompression on the plane carrying my parents,” I said, my voice shaking with grief and anger. 

"She knew what would happen, and she did nothing to stop it. That plane crash didn't just kill my parents - it took the lives of dozens of innocent people too."

"And then came the final message,” I continued, gripping the stand tightly. "It was a text. Cryptic."' You won't be able to save everyone at the docks. '" I glanced at Carlos and T.K., their unwavering support urging me on.

"That's when everything unraveled. The defendants had planned it all. They ambushed us, held us hostage. Gabriel Reyes, Carlos' father, lost..." I stumbled upon my words as a familiar weight began pressing on my chest.

My breathing grew shallow and cold sweat broke out on my forehead as I gripped the edge of the stand. The memories I was trying to verbalize - being tied, the haunting laughter of Caldwell and Washington, Gabriel's lifeless body, overwhelmed me.

My vision blurred as the court room seemed to close in around me. I could hear Judge Moreno calling my name, but her voice felt distant. Suddenly, I heard a chair scrape against the floor.

"Your Honor!" Owen's deep, steady voice broke through the haze as he stood from his seat. "We need a moment..."

"Sir," Judge Moreno interjected, "please remain seated".

Owen hesitated but finally lowered himself back into his seat, his concerned eyes locked onto mine. I gasped, clutching my chest. A wave of panic rose, but just as I felt myself slipping under, I caught sight of T.K. and Carlos. Sitting in the front row, their eyes locked onto mine.

T.K. raised his hand, moving it up and down slowly, gesturing for me to follow his breathing. Carlos mirrored him, holding up four fingers - signalling me to breathe in for four counts.

In. One. Two. Three. Four.

Hold.

Out. One. Two. Three. Four.

I focused on them, grounding myself in their calm presence. Slowly, my breathing steadied, and the tightness in my chest loosened. I wiped the tears that had unknowingly rolled down my cheeks and nodded at Judge Moreno and Prosecutor Connors, signalling that I was ready to continue.

I shifted my gaze to the defendants. Caldwell sat with usual smirk, exuding arrogance, while Washington looked away, her expression inscrutable.

"I'm sorry,” I said, my voice trembling but firm. "I needed a moment". I took a deep breath, the panic attack still faintly echoing in my body but no longer controlling me.

"Gabriel Reyes, Carlos' father, lost his life trying to save us. When Sir Reyes was shot, they didn't stop. They set the whole warehouse on fire and they almost took my friend - Ravi's life too. If it weren't for the incredible camaraderie and bravery of the 126, the 118, the LAPD, APD and the Texas Rangers , I wouldn't be standing here right now."

"This is my message to the defendants," I said, locking eyes with Caldwell. His smirk faltered slightly, and I clung to that moment of weakness like a lifeline.

"You've hurt me. You've taken away people I love and care about. You've made me question myself and my strength. But let me tell you something - I'm still here. You didn't break me and you can't break me."

My voice grew stronger as I continued. "For years, I've been running... running from my panic disorder , from my fears . But not anymore. I'm not running today. I'm standing here, looking you in the eye, because I refuse to let you define who I am. You're not the ones in control anymore. I AM."

The court room was silent. Even the defense team exchanged uneasy glances. T.K. and Carlos were both smiling through their tears. Owen sat at the edge of his seat, his expression a mix of pride and relief.

Judge Moreno gave me an encouraging nod. "Thank you, Mr Hayes. You've shown extraordinary courage today. You may return to your seat."

As I finished my testimony, I felt an immense weight lift off my shoulders. For the first time in a long while, I felt free.

--

When it was Carlos' turn to take the stand, he approached confidently but with a somber expression. He raised his right hand to pledge the oath.

"Do you solemnly swear and affirm that the testimony you are about to give to the State of Texas is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, under penalty of perjury?"

Carlos responded firmly, "I do."

"Sir, please take a seat. For the record, please state and spell your first and last name?"

Carlos nodded. "Carlos, C-A-R-L-O-S, Reyes, R-E-Y-E-S."

"Are you currently working in the Austin Police Department?"

"Yes, I am."

"How long have you been working in the department?"

"Six years,” Carlos replied confidently.

Prosecutor Connors nodded appreciatively. "Alright, Officer Reyes, you've mentioned before that trusting your instincts has been both a strength and a struggle for you. Can you explain this to the court and how it connects to the events we're discussing?"

Carlos exhaled subtly, glancing at the front row where T.K. and I sat, our silent support grounding him. His voice remained steady as he began.

"In law enforcement, trusting your instincts is critical, but it's not always easy. There's a constant tension between having to follow protocols and listen to what your gut is telling you. For me, that tension has been a recurring challenge throughout my career. There was one case earlier that really tested me. That bank robbery incident where the suspect claimed he'd been forced to rob the bank by a group of men who strapped a bomb to him."

--

(* Author's Note : The following part is a recap from 9-1-1: Lone Star episode "Bad Call " )

His gaze flickered briefly to the defense table before he continued. "My partner and I stopped the suspect but my gut told me there was more to the story. Against my partner's advice, I let the man go because I believed he was telling the truth. It was a decision I questioned immediately. When I got back to the station, my badge and gun were taken away while the case was being investigated."

Carlos paused, his grip on the stand tightening briefly and he relaxed it, a habit he had learned to manage his emotions.

"The investigator assigned to question me was none other than my father, Gabriel Reyes. He's a man I've always looked up to. However, during the interrogation, it became clear that he didn't believe me either. When I told him I trusted my instincts, like he always taught me, he said I needed to have the right instincts".

His tone grew quieter, more reflective.

"Hearing that from him... it hit hard. I left that room wondering if I had failed, not just as a cop, but as his son. For a long time after that, I doubted myself. I told myself I'd only go by the books from then on. But there was one person who reminded me why instincts matter - Captain Owen Strand ."

Carlos glanced at Owen, offering a faint nod of gratitude before continuing.

"He told me that books aren't always right and that it's important to guard the heart with a shield. That conversation helped me regain my confidence and when the suspect corroborated my assumptions later, my father admitted I was right. He told me he was proud of me for trusting my instincts."

-- End of "Bad Call" recap --

"Thank you, Officer Reyes." He then stepped forward with a series of documents and evidence files and turned to Judge Moreno. "Your Honor, permission to present Exhibit B to the court."

"Granted," Judge Moreno responded.

The screen in the courtroom illuminated with an image of the suspicious dispatch text Carlos had received the night of the incident.

"Officer Reyes, now I would like to direct your attention to the events that led to the hostage situation. On the screen, we have Exhibit B , the dispatch text you received that night. Can you confirm if this text matches what you received?"

Carlos leaned forward slightly, his eyes scrutinizing the image. "Yes, that's the exact text I received on my phone."

Prosecutor Connors stepped closer. "Can you describe your reaction upon receiving this text, how did your instincts come into play?"

Carlos nodded slightly, settling into the question.

"When I received the message, I knew something was off. The phrasing wasn't standard, but I told myself it might be part of new protocols . After all, we'd seen changes in response when first responders were being targeted and attacked. Still, my gut told me to be cautious. I struggled with self doubt, wondering if I was reading too much into it or if I should report it. Ultimately, my instincts pushed me to investigate, and I followed the lead to the storage facility."

Prosecutor Connors gestured toward the jury. "And what did you find when you arrived?"

Carlos's calm tone carried a subtle weight as he described the scene. "The door was slightly open, and the light was on. Inside, I found letters - letters similar to the ones Eli had been receiving, and photographs of people connected to the case: Eli, his parents, members of the 126, and even myself. At that moment, everything clicked. This wasn't random. Someone was deliberately targeting us."

"Officer Reyes, could you then recount for the court the events that happened at Lake Austin Boat Dock?" Prosecutor Connors said, stepping closer to him. 

Carlos took a deep breath, briefly glancing towards the first row where T.K. and I sat. He focused his gaze ahead, his voice steady as he began. 

"After T.K. and I found me in the storage facility, we were ambushed by defendant #1's men. We were overpowered and then transported to a warehouse near Lake Austin Boat Dock, where we were restrained. They kept us there, taunted us and confessed to their crimes." 

He paused, his jaw tightening briefly before continuing. "They admitted to orchestrating everything - the letters, messages, the deaths of Eli's parents, the setup to lure me to the storage facility and their plan to eliminate anyone who stood in their way." 

Carlos clenched his hands, the memories as vivid as if they'd happened yesterday. "Then... My dad and his team arrived. They came for us." 

Prosecutor Connors asked, "What happened when your father and his team arrived, Officer Reyes?" 

"Ravi, our friend from the 118 firehouse, was the first to get to us. He was trying to untie us when one of defendant #1 's men shot him in the leg. The next moments were chaos - Defendant #1 then set the warehouse on fire and as my father and his team moved in, an exchange of gunfire erupted. Amid the smoke and flames, Defendant #2 fired a shot..." 

His voice caught and he visibly swallowed before forcing himself to continue. "... and it hit my father right in the chest. I remember screaming as I watched him go down. The defendant s tried to flee as the fire spread. I knelt beside him. He looked at me, weak but still my father, Gabriel Reyes, the Texas Ranger I'd always admired, told me that he's proud of us." 

His voice cracked and for a moment, the courtroom wa silent except for the faint shuffling of papers. Carlos took a steadying breath, his composure barely holding. 

" 'I'm proud of you guys' , those were the last words said to me,” Carlos said, his voice lower now. "And then he was gone."

Prosecutor Connors allowed a moment of silence before speaking again. "Officer Reyes, before you step down, do you have anything you'd like to say to the defendants?"

Carlos turned to face the defendants, his mask of calm cracking just enough for his pain to shine through. "You took my father from me. You tore apart my family. But you didn't win. I'm here today because of him. Because of what he taught me, what he believed in. I buried my emotions for years to be the cop he wanted me to be, to make him proud. And I am proud of who I've become because of him. But I won't bury this pain or this anger."

Carlos's voice grew firm, each word heavy with conviction. "You may have tried to break me, but you failed. I'm still standing, stronger than ever, and I will see justice done for my father, for Eli, for T.K., and for everyone whose lives you've destroyed."

Prosecutor Connors gave Carlos a nod of respect before addressing the court again, signaling for T.K. to approach the stands for the last testimonial. 

T.K. took the stand, and adjusted his posture.

Prosecutor Connors approached him with a respectful nod. "Please state and spell your first and last name for the record." 

"Tyler, T-Y-L-E-R, Strand, S-T-R-A-N-D." T.K. said, his voice clear and firm. 

"And your occupation, Mr Strand?" 

"I used to be a paramedic, now a firefighter with the Austin Fire Department, stationed at Firehouse 126."

Connors smiled briefly before continuing. "Mr Strand, can you describe your relationship with Officer Reyes and Mr Hayes for the court?" 

T.K. straightened a little, his gaze flicking briefly towards Carlos and I before returning to the prosecutor. "Officer Reyes is my partner - both in life and now in marriage. And Mr Hayes...he's like family . He came into our lives during a time of chaos, and since then, he's become someone we deeply care for and would do anything to protect." 

Prosecutor Connors nodded thoughtfully. "You've been through a lot together, haven't you?" 

T.K. gave a small, almost rueful smile. "That's an understatement." 

"Mr Strand, you've mentioned that Officer Reyes is your partner in life. Could you elaborate on your relationship with him? What is him like as an individual?"

T.K. paused for a moment, his expression softening as he considered his words. He shifted slightly in the chair, glancing at Carlos, who met his gaze briefly before looking away, his usual calm demeanor carefully in place.

"Officer Reyes is..." T.K. began, his voice warm but steady, "he's one of the most dedicated and selfless people I've ever met. He has this incredible sense of duty - not just to his job but to the people he cares about. He's the kind of person who will drop everything if someone needs him. But he's also someone who's very good at keeping his emotions in check, sometimes too good ."

Connors raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by ' too good ,' Mr Strand?"

T.K. hesitated, glancing briefly at Carlos again before continuing. "Officer Reyes is a master at burying his emotions. He can appear calm and collected even when he's feeling the exact opposite. It's something that makes him excellent at his job - it helps him stay focused in high pressure situations. But it's not always healthy. He internalizes a lot, and sometimes it feels like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders without letting anyone see it."

There was a murmur of empathy from the courtroom audience. Connors nodded, urging T.K. to continue. "How does that affect your relationship, if I may ask?"

T.K. gave a small smile, his tone tinged with understanding. "It means I've had to learn to read between the lines with Officer Reyes. He doesn't always say what he's feeling, but I've come to recognize the little signs - how he tightens his jaw when he's frustrated or the way his voice changes when he's overwhelmed. It's not always easy, but it's also one of the things I love about him. He's strong, but he's human, and I think sometimes he forgets that it's okay to lean on me, or on anyone, for support."

Connors nodded thoughtfully. "Would you say his ability to hide his emotions has influenced how he approaches his work?"

T.K. nodded. "Absolutely. He is incredibly disciplined, and he relies on that discipline to keep his emotions in check. He's meticulous, always thinking three steps ahead, and that makes him a great cop. But it also means he sometimes second-guesses himself. I know there have been times when he's struggled with self doubt , even when his instincts were right. It's a battle between his heart and his head, and it's not always easy for him to trust himself."

Connors tilted his head, his tone gentle. "And yet, he's here today, having played a critical role in uncovering the truth about Caldwell and Washington. What does that say about him?"

T.K.'s smile grew, pride evident in his expression. "It says that Officer Reyes is stronger than he gives himself credit for. He's been through so much - questioning his instincts, dealing with his father's disapproval, and even putting himself in harm's way to protect the people he loves. But he always shows up. No matter how hard it gets, he's there, fighting for what's right. That's who Officer Reyes is. And it's one of the many reasons I'm so proud to call him my husband. "

Carlos shifted slightly in his seat as he glanced at T.K., gratitude and affection flickering in his eyes. 

"Mr Strand, before we conclude your testimony, do you have anything you'd like to say directly to the defendants?" 

T.K. shifts in his seat, glancing briefly at Carlos and I before turning his attention towards Caldwell and Washington. His jaw tightens and his voice carries both strength and emotion as he began to speak. 

"You know, when you're in this line of work - whether it's a firefighter, a paramedic, or even a cop - you see the worst of humanity. You see people at their lowest, and you learn to deal with it. But what you two did... it's not something you can just deal with. It's not just about the lives you've taken or the pain you've caused. It's about the complete disregard you've shown for anyone else's humanity." 

"You've caused more pain than you probably even imagine", T.K. began, his eyes narrowing. "Mr Hayes - he's one of the strongest, kindest people I know. He didn't deserve any of this. You tormented him, stole his family from him, tried to break him down completely, just for what? Some twisted power trip? To prove that you could?" 

His voice rose slightly, carrying the anger he held back for so long. "And Officer Reyes..." T.K. faltered for a second, his throat tightening before he continued. "You didn't just kill his father. You took a man who'd built his entire life on strength, integrity and pride, and you ripped him away from his son in the most brutal way possible. Officer Reyes has spent his whole life hiding how he feels, keeping his emotions buried so he could keep functioning, keep going, even when the world was against him. But watching his father die like that...you broke something in him that I don't know will ever heal." 

T.K. leaned closer to the microphone, his hands gripping the stand as his voice grew more sharper. "And you didn't stop there. You put my friends and me through hell. You made us question everything - our instincts, our choices, even our sense of safety. You tried to take everything away from us. But here's one thing - you didn't win. You didn't break Mr Hayes, you didn't break Officer Reyes. You didn't break any of us. We're here, we're standing and we're fighting back together. You might think you've won because of the lives you've taken, but all you've done is prove how small and cowardly you really are." 

T.K. exhaled slowly, his voice softening but remaining firm. " I hope that when you look back on this someday - when you're sitting in a prison cell, you realize the extent of the pain you've caused. And I hope it eats away at you the way your actions have eaten away at the people you've hurt. Because we'll heal, and we'll move forward. But you? You'll be left with nothing but the consequences of what you've done. " 

Prosecutor Connors allowed a moment of quiet before nodding with respect to T.K.. "Thank you, Mr Strand. No further questions."

To be continued...

Chapter Text

As T.K. stepped down the witness stand, the defense team quickly rose, ready to counteract the powerful testimonies presented. A tall, sharp suited lawyer from the defense approached the bench. He was calm but calculated as he addressed Judge Moreno. 

"Your Honor, while the testimonies presented today are certainly emotional and compelling , I must point out the lack of direct evidence tying the defendants to these crimes. The testimonies are subjective accounts and, while impactful, they lack the definitive proof required to establish my clients' culpability beyond a reasonable doubt." 

The defense attorney's tone was confident. "We must also consider the fact that the victims and the lead witness have personal connections with each other and a clear emotional bias , which may cloud their recollection of events. Furthermore, the so-called 'evidence' presented at the storage facility is circumstantial at best - mere letters and photographs that could easily have been planted by a third party to implicate my clients. 

Captain Vega, seated at the prosecution table, exchanged a glance with Prosecutor Connors. Connors gave her a subtle nod, signaling her to step forward. Tommy stood, her presence commanding as she addressed both Judge Moreno and the defense team. 

"Your Honor", Tommy began with her firm voice, "The defense's argument rests on the premise that these testimonies are purely emotional accounts and that the evidence lacks substance. But let me remind the court of the facts. The letters recovered from the storage facility not only match the handwriting of defendant #1 , but they also reference specific events and threats that were later carried out. These were not coincidences." 

She paused, turning to face the defense lawyer directly. "As for the claim of emotional bias, let's not overlook the psychological toll these crimes have had on the victims. Emotional bias doesn't negate truth. It enhances it. The pain and fear they have endured don't undermine their credibility - they amplify the severity of the defendants' actions." 

The defense lawyer adjusted his tie, preparing to respond, but Tommy pressed on, her voice gaining intensity. "And let's address the so-called ' circumstantial evidence '. The defendants were apprehended after being caught in the act at the warehouse. Witnesses , including law enforcement officers, can attest to their presence while holding the victims hostage. These aren't just circumstantial threads , they're the knots tying your clients to their crimes." 

The defense attorney frowned but attempted to regain control. "Your Honor, with all due respect, we cannot allow this court to convict based on circumstantial evidence and emotional testimonies alone. This is a court of law, not..." 

Tommy interrupted him, her voice cutting through his words like a blade. "Not a courtroom where criminals will hide behind and deflect responsibility . If the defense wants to discuss what's fair, let's talk about what's fair for the victims - for Mr Elliot Hayes, who lost his parents . For Officer Reyes, who lost his father and for the countless others whose lives were devastated by the defendants' actions ." 

The defense lawyer opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the judge raised a hand. "That's enough", Judge Moreno said firmly. 

"The prosecution has presented compelling evidence and testimony that directly implicates the defendants. While the defense has the right to challenge these claims, it's clear to this court that the arguments presented by the prosecution are both substantial and credible." 

She turned her sharp gaze to the defense team. "Unless you have irrefutable evidence to disprove these claims, I suggest we move forward". 

The defense lawyer, a smug smile plastered across his face, flipped through a file before pausing dramatically. "Your Honor", he began. "Before we proceed further, I must point out that one of the witnesses , Mr. Tyler Kennedy Strand, has a history of criminal behavior. Specifically, an assault charge stemming from a bar fight years ago. This raises questions about the credibility of his testimony." 

The room fell into a tense hush. T.K.'s eyes widened, his face darkening with anger. He stood up from his seat, glaring directly at the defense table. His fists clenched at his sides and his voice was low and threatening. 

"Are you seriously bringing up something that happened years ago? A mistake I've already paid for - to discredit me when these two monsters..." he pointed sharply at Caldwell and Washington, "are sitting here, responsible for countless lives lost and ruined? Is that the best you've got?? " 

"T.K., stop." Carlos's calm but firm voice cut through the tension. He reached up, gently tugging at T.K.'s arm to pull him back down. I leaned in from T.K.'s other side, whispering urgently, "T.K., don't give them what they want. They're trying to rattle us, don't let them." 

T.K.'s jaw tightened, his eyes darting between Carlos and I before he reluctantly sat down. His body was still tense, but he exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus. Carlos placed a reassuring hand on his knee under the table, grounding him. 

The defense lawyer smirked, clearly satisfied that he'd provoked a reaction, but before he could continue, Tommy stood with a commanding presence. Her voice was steady but filled with rage and fury.

"Your Honor, the defense's attempt to discredit Mr Strand is not only irrelevant but a desperate and transparent play to distract from the overwhelming evidence against their clients. Yes, Mr Strand had a minor offense in his past, which he had taken accountability for and has since led an exemplary life of service as a firefighter and paramedic." 

"Unlike the defendants, who have not only failed to take responsibility for their actions but have left behind a trail of destruction. Mr Strand's character and actions speak for themselves. His testimony is not only valid but essential in shedding light on the atrocities committed by the defendants." 

Judge Moreno's stern gaze shifted to the defense table. "I agree with the prosecution. Mr Strand's prior offense has no bearing on this case and is not admissible as evidence. Let's move on." 

The defense lawyer sat down, visibly frustrated. Tommy returned to her seat, exuding quiet triumph. T.K. caught her eye and gave her a small, grateful nod. She returned the gesture with a reassuring look, her resolve unwavering. 

The courtroom was silent except for the rustling of papers as Judge Moreno reviewed the evidence and testimonies one final time. Her sharp gaze flickered between the defense team, the prosecution and the defendants themselves. 

Nathan Caldwell and Sarina Washington sat at the defense table, their expressions a mix of defiance and thinly veiled anxiety. Judge Moreno adjusted her glasses and began her ruling, her voice steady and firm. 

"After reviewing the extensive evidence presented in this case, hearing the testimony of the victims and witnesses, and considering the arguments from both the prosecution and defense, this court has come to a conclusion ." 

The room seemed to hold its breath as she continued. 

"Mr Caldwell and Ms Washington, you stand accused of multiple heinous crimes , including but not limited to: capital murder, kidnapping, arson, conspiracy to commit murder, and organized criminal activity . "

Judge Moreno's gaze hardened as she addressed the defendants directly. "The evidence against you is overwhelming. You orchestrated and carried out a series of calculated and malicious acts that led to the deaths of 201 innocent people , including a decorated Texas Ranger , Gabriel Reyes , and Mr Hayes' parents, Victoria and Ricky Hayes . These acts were committed with a callous disregard for human life and caused irreparable harm to countless others. Furthermore, the kidnapping and hostage taking of Mr Elliot Hayes, Mr Carlos Reyes, and Mr Tyler Kennedy Strand at Lake Austin Boat Dock, followed by arson and attempted murder during the rescue operation, demonstrated your utter lack of remorse and willingness to endanger even more lives." 

Judge Moreno paused, letting the weight of her words sink in before continuing. 

"Under the Texas Penal Code , the murder of a peace officer in the line of duty constitutes capital murder, which carries the most severe penalties under the law. The premeditated nature of your actions, your intent to cause harm, and the deaths resulting from your conspiracy leave no doubt about your culpability." 

Her tone turned solemn as she delivered the final verdict and sentencing. 

"This court finds the defendants: Nathan Caldwell and Sarina Washington guilty of all charges." 

"Nathan Caldwell and Sarina Washington, for the crime of capital murder, this court sentences you both to death by lethal injection , as per Texas Penal Code Section 19.03 . For the crimes of kidnapping, arson and organized criminal activity, you are sentenced to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole , to be served consecutively." 

Her words echoed in the courtroom, each syllable carrying the weight of the decision. For a moment, I was frozen, the enormity of the sentencing crashing over me like a tidal wave. Then it hit me. Justice had been served. 

The bailiffs moved closer to Caldwell and Washington, whose stoic masks began to crack. Sarina's lip trembled and Caldwell's hands clenched into fists as they absorbed their fate. 

Judge Moreno raised her gavel one final time. "This court is adjourned." 

As the courtroom erupted into cheers, a sob broke free from my chest. My knees buckled and before I could collapse entirely, T.K. and Carlos were at my sides, catching me. I buried my face into Carlos' shoulders while T.K.'s arm wrapped around me tightly. 

The grief, relief and gratitude all poured out in uncontrollable waves, my body trembling as I thought of my parents, of Carlos' dad, of the innocent passengers whose lives were cut short on that doomed flight. They could finally rest knowing justice had been served. 

I felt T.K's tears fall onto my neck as he rested his head against mine. Carlos let out a quiet, shuddering breath, his own tears slipping silently down his face. We held onto each other tightly as applause rang out, echoing off the walls as the 126 and 118 crews stood in a united front. 

Mateo's enthusiastic voice boomed over the crowd: "That's right! Justice, baby!" His fist punched the air, earning a few laughs from those around him. 

"Mateo!" Marjan hissed, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him down into his seat. Her face was red with embarrassment, but even she could not suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. 

Owen and Bobby exchanged a look of pride and relief, nodding solemnly to one another. Athena, standing with the LAPD, APD and Gabriel's colleagues from the Texas Rangers , had a bittersweet expression, her own tears glistening in the courtroom's lights. 

I pulled back slightly, still leaning on Carlos and T.K. "Thank you", I whispered hoarsely, my voice raspy and cracking. "Thank you to the both of you... for everything." 

"We got you, Eli", T.K. said softly, his hand gripping my shoulder. Carlos did not speak, but the steady presence of his hand on my back spoke volumes. 

"Carlos, your dad will always be proud of you", I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. 

T.K. wiped his eyes and added, "He always believed in you, babe. We do, too." 

Carlos finally nodded, his voice breaking slightly as he murmured "Thanks, guys." 

As Caldwell and Washington were escorted out of the courtroom in handcuffs, the three of us watched in silence. 

--

As the courtroom slowly began to clear, everyone came forward to offer their support. Judd was the first to approach, his broad hand clapping down on my shoulder.

"Eli, I gotta say, I'm damn proud of you. Never thought I'd see you stand up like that and unleash the kind of fire you did when you confronted those two scumbags. You've got a strength in you, kid - don't ever forget that." 

I managed a watery smile, blinking back fresh tears. "Thanks, Judd. That means a lot coming from you." 

Marjan was next, practically bouncing with excitement as she whipped out her phone. 

"Eli! You deserve to be in the spotlight for this. This is a viral moment waiting to happen. You stood up to those criminals, fought for your parents and showed the world what true resilience looks like." She started live streaming right then and there, urging her viewers to share their support. "I'm so proud of you", she added with a beaming smile. 

Mateo and Paul chimed in with their own words of encouragement, Mateo's enthusiasm infectious as he said, "You're an inspiration, man. Seriously." Paul nodded, adding, "You proved how strong you really are, Eli. We've got your back, always ." 

Nancy was next as approached me with a gentle and warm smile, her arms already reaching out. She pulled me into a warm hug, her voice soft but filled with emotion. "Eli, I have to tell you", she began, her words trembling slightly, "I've got chills listening to you confront Caldwell and Washington. The way you stood up to them, how you fought through the panic attack halfway... It was incredible." 

I pulled her back slightly to look at her, surprised by the sincerity in her eyes. "Nance, I was just trying to make sense of it all, to make sure justice was served." 

She shook her head, her expression firm. "No, Eli. It wasn't just about justice - you showed so much strength and heart. Watching you fight so hard despite everything you've been through.. it's inspiring. You reminded me why we do what we do, why we keep going, even when it's hard . You've inspired me to keep fighting, to never give up on making a difference." 

Her words hit me deeply, and for a moment, I did not know how to respond. Finally, I managed to, "Thank you, Nance. That means more than you know. Appreciate all the help you've rendered!" She smiled again, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze. 

From across the room, Buck and Eddie approached. Buck gave me a heartfelt pat on the back. "You crushed it, Eli. You didn't let fear control you." Eddie added with his usual calm wisdom, "You did more than stand up for yourself. You stood up for everyone who's ever been wronged. This isn't just your victory; it's all of ours. You've got family in more places than you know!" 

Hen and Chimney approached Carlos, their expressions filled with compassion. Hen placed a hand on his arm, her voice soft but firm. "We've tried everything we could for your dad. He was a brave man and we’re glad you got the closure you needed, Carlos." 

Carlos' voice trembled as he responded, "Thank you. I know you guys did your very best. I'm sorry for how I acted at the warehouse and in the ambulance... my emotions were running high." 

Hen shook her head gently, her understanding evident. "You don't need to apologize. We get it and we're here for you, always." Carlos gave them both a small, grateful smile. 

As the chatters in the courtroom started to calm down, Judd's voice cut through the chatter. "Hold up a second, y'all," he called out, raising a hand to gather everyone's attention. 

"Can we just take a moment to also talk about how Tommy Vega - our Tommy Vega was out there in the courtroom, handling business like a pro lawyer?" 

The team chuckled, murmurs of agreement rippling through the room. Judd smirked, turning to Tommy with a playful but genuine expression. "Seriously, Tommy. Since when were you a lawyer? And why didn't you tell us?" 

T.K., intrigued, stepped forward. "Yeah, Cap. What's the deal? Why'd you decide to renew your license, and why keep it a secret from the team?" 

Before Tommy could answer, Owen walked towards us, a knowing smile on his face. "Because I told her to go for it," he said, stepping beside her. 

"When she mentioned wanting to make a difference in another way, I reminded her she already had the skills and the heart to do it." Tommy glanced at Owen, gratitude flickering in her eyes, before turning back to everyone. Her face softened as she took a deep breath. 

"Ever since Charles passed away," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "I've been living in denial . Grief. I kept telling myself I had moved on, but deep down, I knew I hadn't." 

The room fell silent, everyone processing what she said. 

Tommy continued, "I never got the closure I needed. Coming home after a shift and finding him there..." Her voice cracked, and she paused to steady herself. "He had passed away from a brain aneurysm . There were no signs, no warnings. Just...gone." 

I frowned, confused. "Wait, who's Charles?" I interrupted hesitantly, not wanting to break the moment but I'm feeling out of the loop. 

Tommy smiled slightly. "Charles was my husband. My rock. The father of my daughters. He was my world, Eli." 

Understanding downed on me, and I nodded solemnly. "I'm so sorry, Tommy. I didn't know." 

She placed a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay. It's been a few years now, but the pain doesn't just go away." She turned back to the group. "That's why I decided to renew my license. I realized if I could help others fight for justice and get the closure they deserve, maybe I could find some peace too. Maybe I could make sense of the loss by making sure no one else feels powerless like I did ." 

The team nodded in unison. Judd folded his arms, his gruff voice breaking the silence. "Well, Tommy, you did a damn fine job out there today. We're so freaking proud of you!" 

"Damn right we are, you absolutely kicked ass today!" Marjan chimed in, her eyes shining with admiration. I stepped forward, my voice soft, "Thank you, Tommy. Not just for today, but for everything. You've been a guide for me through all of this, and I'm so grateful.

Tommy pulled me into a hug, her warmth radiating through her touch. 

As the conversation lightened, T.K. nudged me playfully. Both of us mischievously shared a glance. "You know, Eli, I feel like we owe someone an apology." 

I raised an eyebrow, already catching on. "Oh, definitely. I mean we really dropped the ball, didn't we?" 

T.K. nodded solemnly, though the twitch of a smile betrayed his attempt at being serious. " First day of shifts and we're out playing hostage at the warehouse . Not exactly the strongest start." 

The court room erupted in laughter, with Judd shaking his head. "Y'all have the weirdest excuse for skipping work , I swear." 

Marjan smirked. "Yeah, I think being held at gunpoint and burning buildings might top the list of ' most dramatic no-shows '."

T.K. threw his hands up, feigning innocence. "What can I say? We aim to keep things interesting." 

Carlos, who had been quietly watching the banter with a soft smile, finally spoke up. "Hey, Eli", he said softly, glancing around the room. "Do you think I could have a minute with you? Alone?" 

I looked at him, surprised, but nodded. "Of course,” as I followed him to a quieter corner of the room. 

Carlos turned to me, his face filled with regret. "Eli, I need to apologize. Turning to Detective Washington to sort out your case was... the worst decision I could've made . If I'd just trusted my instincts ..." 

He glanced at me, his brown eyes filled with uncertainty, but I reached out to grip his arm, grounding us both. "Carlos, stop. Don't apologize. None of us could've predicted how things would unfold. Your instincts saved me . You sensed something was wrong with me from the moment I got those letters. You didn't let it go. And when I finally told you everything, you didn't run. You stayed. You listened. You fought for me , Carlos. For us."

Carlos exhaled shakily, his gaze dropping to the floor. I tightened my grip on his arm, urging him to meet my eyes again. "I'm here now because of you," I added, my voice steady. "And I'll never stop being grateful for that ."

As the buzz of conversation died down, Captain Strand clapped his hands together, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. 

"Alright, everyone, I've made an executive decision . It's self care day . That means we're all heading to my place for a face mask session." 

T.K. groaned immediately, rolling his eyes at his dad. "Seriously, Dad? Face masks?" 

"Yes, face masks. We've all been through hell , and this is exactly what we need. Trust me, it'll do wonders for your stress levels." 

Marjan's face lit up. "I'm in. My skin could use a little pampering after all that ash and soot." 

Paul chuckled. "I could get behind that. Sounds relaxing." 

Judd, on the other hand, raised his hands defensively. "I think I'll pass on the whole 'face mask' thing." 

"Oh, no, you don't!" Marjan exclaimed, grabbing his arm. "You're coming, Juddy. Whether you like it or not." 

Mateo chimed in, pointing a finger at Judd playfully. "If you don't come, I'll tell everyone about the time you got stuck trying to crawl under our fire truck ." 

Judd groaned and replied, "fine, but if anyone takes a picture, I'm out." 

Carlos stepped forward, offering, "I'll stop by the grocery store to pick up some vegetables and ingredients to cook for everyone." 

Before he could finish, Captain Nash interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Officer Reyes, it's alright. I've got this. I'll be cooking." 

Mateo threw up his hands dramatically. "Oh no, not again! We just survived a fire at the warehouse. Do we really need to risk another one ?" 

Hen and Chimney both laughed and nudged Mateo. Hen added, "You clearly haven't had Captain Nash's cooking. Trust me, it's worth it." 

Chimney nodded eagerly. " Best chef ever. He's always making food for us back at the 118. You'll thank us later." 

Buck was practically bouncing in excitement. "I can't wait to tour your apartment, Captain Strand. I heard it's got, like, this whole rustic chic vibe ." 

I smiled, but then spoke up, "I'll drop by later. I want to stop by the hospital first to check on Ravi and break the news to him." 

T.K., Carlos and Nancy exchanged glances before T.K. nodded. "We'll come with you, Eli."  Owen nodded, a soft smile on his face. "Alright, but be careful, and T.K., text me when you guys reach the hospital." 

--

As we all began to make our way out of the courtroom, Owen paused, his tone turning more reflective. "Now, before we leave here... T.K., Eli, Carlos, are you all ready to get back out there? Into the real world?"  

We each took a deep breath - one collective inhale that seemed to gather all the pain, anger, and fear we'd been carrying. The air filled our lungs, heavy with grief but also something new: resolve.

As we exhaled together, I felt a strange sense of release, as though the weight wasn't entirely gone but now shared. T.K. was the first to speak, his voice quiet but firm. "Yes," he said, glancing at his father. "I'm ready, Dad."

Carlos followed, his voice breaking slightly but steadying as he went. "Me too. It's time."

I nodded last, the words catching in my throat for a moment before they finally came out. "Yeah...we're ready."

Owen smiled, his eyes glistening just enough to catch the light. "That's my team," he said softly, clapping us on the shoulders.

As we stepped out into the sunlight, the world seemed a little brighter - not because it had changed, but because we had. Together, we walked forward, not as victims but as survivors.

--

Chapter Text

The drive to the hospital was unexpectedly quiet. Carlos was at the wheel, his knuckles tight against the leather steering wheel, while T.K. sat in the passenger seat, staring at his phone but not typing anything. The gravity of the sentencing - of finally getting justice for everything Caldwell and Washington had done still hung heavy in the air.

I sat in the backseat next to Nancy, her hand occasionally brushing mine in quiet reassurance. Carlos glanced at the rearview mirror, his eyes briefly meeting mine before returning to the road.

"Everyone okay back there?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern. Nancy nodded. "Yeah... just thinking about everything." She tilted her head towards me. "You've been quiet, Eli."

I shrugged, trying to find the right words to describe my current emotions. "I'm...relieved, I guess. But there’s still a lot to process. Seeing them sentenced felt like a closure, but it also brought all the bad memories back."

Carlos's jaw clenched, and he let out a deep breath. "I know what you mean, Eli. It's like a chapter has closed, but the weight of it doesn't just disappear right away."

As we pulled into the hospital parking lot, the tires crunching softly against the gravel, T.K. suddenly held up a hand. "Wait, guys. Don't get out just yet." He pulled out his phone, quickly typing a text.

"Texting your dad, T.K.?" Nancy asked, her tone light but curious.

"Yeah", T.K. replied without looking up. "Just letting him know we made it to the hospital. You know how he worries after that incident ."

Carlos smirked. "Worries? T.K., your Dad practically has a sixth sense when it comes to us. He probably already knows we're here, babe."

We all chuckled softly as we made our way to the elevator.

The elevator ride to Ravi's ward was filled with a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. As the doors slid open and we stepped into the hallway, I noticed my hands trembling slightly. Nancy gave my arm a reassuring squeeze and T.K. shot me a small smile over his shoulder as if to say, 'We've got this' .

Carlos carried a small bouquet of vibrant flowers, a token of celebration we had hastily picked up on the way. Nancy held onto a bag of Ravi's favorite snacks, her excitement barely contained.

As we pushed open the door, Ravi's face lit up. His eyes were bright, almost teary, as though he had been waiting for this moment. "Well, if it isn't my favorite troublemakers!" he said, his voice laced with humor but tinged with genuine warmth.

I stepped forward, clutching the edge of his bed. "Ravi, we did it." My voice cracked slightly, but I pressed on. "Caldwell and Washington pleaded guilty. They'd been sentenced to death by lethal injection ."

Ravi let out a long breath, leaning back against the pillows. "Finally!" he exclaimed, his voice thick with emotion. "Finally, justice ."

Carlos nodded, his hand resting on my shoulder. "It's over now. We can focus on healing. On moving forward."

Ravi smiled as he replied, "I'm so happy that you guys got the closure you deserved. You guys fought harder than anyone. Y'all never gave up!"

Just then, the door creaked open, and a doctor in a white coat entered with a clipboard in his hand. "Good afternoon, Mr Panikkar,” he greeted warmly before turning his attention to the rest of us.

"And you guys must be his support squad?"

"That's one way to put it, Doc,” Nancy quipped, earning a small chuckle from the doctor.

"Well," the doctor continued, "I have some excellent news. Mr Panikkar, you're officially discharged."

The ward erupted in cheers. Nancy clapped her hands together excitedly, and T.K. let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Finally, Ravi, no more hospital food for you!"

Carlos stepped forward, handing the bouquet of vibrant flowers to Ravi with a warm smile. "You’ve earned this," he said, his voice full of pride.

Nancy handed him his bag of snacks, grinning. "Let's celebrate with some chips. Hospital food is out. Ravi snacks are in!"

Ravi laughed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Thanks, guys, if I never see Jell-O again, it'll be too soon."

Meanwhile at Owen's house

The living room was a chaotic mix of delight and bewilderment as Owen tried to organize everyone into a semblance of order. The scent of face masks - cucumber, aloe and something vaguely citrusy, mingled with the laughter echoing through the house.

Judd, sitting apathetically on the couch with his face slathered in a bright green mask, looked like he was about to explode from suppressed resentment .

"Alright, everyone," Owen announced with calm authority, "circle up. It's time for a little meditation and reflection session . Let's ground ourselves."

Mateo, reclining dramatically with cucumber slices over his eyes, raised a hand. "Question, Cap: How does one 'ground themselves' while looking like a human salad?"

"You'll find out if you listen, Mateo." Owen replied serenely, clearly unfazed.

Judd grumbled as he stood, adjusting his mask as if it were a badge of shame. "I better not hear any chantin’ from any of y’all."

Mateo patted him on the shoulder, laughing. "Relax, Juddy. Cap's just trying to turn us into peaceful warriors or something. Besides, I think the face mask has already done half the work."

Buck, sprawled across the couch like he owned the place, lifted his head just enough to chime in. "Speaking of this couch, Eddie, we need to talk. I'm buying this exact one for my apartment. It's like lying on a cloud, man."

Eddie, leaning casually against the doorway, smirked. "Pretty sure you've spent more time on Captain Strand's couch than your own bed."

"I know the quality when I feel it,” Buck shot back, grinning.

Just as Owen was about to guide the group into a moment of calm, the front door swung open, and T.K., Carlos, Nancy, Ravi and I stepped inside. The scene that greeted us stopped us dead in our tracks.

"What the..." T.K. blinked, his eyes darting from Mateo's cucumber covered face to Judd's reluctant glow up and finally to Buck, who looked like he was auditioning for a furniture commercial .

Carlos took a step forward, his brow furrowing. "Is this... a spa retreat? Or did we stumble into some firefighter initiation ritual?"

Ravi, leaning on Nancy for support, burst out laughing, doubling over as tears welled up in his eyes. "Oh man, Judd, I never thought I'd see the day. If someone had told me you'd be rocking a face mask and sitting in a circle for meditation , I would have called them crazy ."

The room erupted into laughter, everyone collapsing into fits of giggles except for Owen and Marjan, who remained impressively undisturbed. "If you're done gawking,” he said with measured calm, "you're welcome to join us. We're about to begin."

Ravi straightened up, wiping a tear from his eye as he made his way over to the couch. Spotting the pack of face masks on the coffee table, he grabbed one, peeling it open with precision. "Come on, T.K., Eli, Carlos, Nancy, if I can do this after being shot, so can you guys", he said, striking a pose.

The laughter in the living room gradually simmered to a low buzz, though occasional snickers from Mateo and Ravi still broke through. Nancy and I exchanged glances as we reached for the remaining face masks on the coffee table. With exaggerated flair, Nancy peeled hers open and slapped it onto her face with a satisfying pat.

"Ah,” she sighed, "instant rejuvenation. My skin's been waiting para este momento!"

"Right there with you, Nance,” I added, smoothing the mask across my cheeks. "Though I might need a second one to cover all the stress ."

Owen, seated cross legged in the circle, looked up and gave an approving nod. "Glad to see more of you joining in. T.K., Carlos?" he said, motioning to the coffee table, "there are masks for you too. Join us."

T.K. raised an eyebrow at his dad, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he replied, "Thanks, Dad, but I think I'll skip this one . Gotta go to bed, you know. Sleep and all."

Owen gave him a disappointed look. Before he could respond, Carlos patted T.K.'s shoulder, laughing softly. "I'll sit this one out too, but… it’s for a different reason! I'll go check on Captain Nash and Sergeant Grant in the kitchen!" 

With that, Carlos headed towards the enticing aromas wafting from the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Bobby was busy tending to the grill pan, turning skewers with practiced precision, while Athena expertly tossed a crisp Greek salad. A pot of mashed potatoes simmered nearby, the scent of buttery goodness filling the air.

Carlos stepped in. "Need an extra pair of hands?" He offered, rolling up his sleeves. Bobby glanced over and smiled. "You've already done enough today, Carlos. Go sit down and relax. Dinner will be ready soon."

Carlos hesitated, but Athena chimed in. "Bobby's right. Go rest, Carlos. Let us handle the dinner preparation!" 

Reluctantly, Carlos nodded and left the kitchen, but as he stepped into the hallway, he caught sight of T.K., who had lingered near the door . Their eyes met, and T.K. tilted his head subtly , signaling Carlos to follow him.

Without a word, Carlos complied, trailing after T.K. as they disappeared into T.K.'s former bedroom.

Back in the living room, it still hummed with residual laughter. "Alright, tout le monde ," Owen began. "Let's take this seriously for a moment. I know today has been hell of a ride for all of us, but this is a chance to let go of the noise and reconnect with ourselves and each other."

Nancy nudged me with a smirk as Ravi struck yet another goofy pose , the corners of his sheet mask peeling slightly. Mateo, barely able to contain himself, leaned closer to whisper something, but Owen raised a hand, silencing him with a gentle but firm look.

"Close your eyes," Owen instructed. "Take a deep breath in... and slowly let it out." Surprisingly, most of us complied. The living room grew quieter as the collective inhale and exhale filled the space.

"Inhale... hold it for a moment... and exhale", Owen continued, his tone unwavering. "With each breath, I want you to release the tension in your body. Feel the stress melt away, piece by piece. Let yourself be here, fully present."

The chaotic hilarity of the evening faded into the background, replaced by a surprising sense of calm.

"Now,” Owen continued, his voice softer, "I want you to think about one thing you're grateful for today. It doesn't have to be anything big - just something that makes you smile, laugh, or feel connected to the people around you."

I opened my eyes slightly, glancing around the circle. Marjan sat cross legged across from me, her hands resting lightly on her knees. Her face was utterly serene with a small, peaceful smile. Nancy sat to my left, her posture relaxed as she tilted her head slightly, her face mask barely shifting. She looked calm and poised, soaking in the moment.

On my right, Ravi looked like he was trying hard not to fall asleep . His eyes were shut tight and although his posture was calm, the corners of his mouth twitched slightly, suggesting he was still suppressing a joke. His face mask had started to slide down, leaving him looking a little lopsided.

Mateo, surprisingly, had grown still, his usual energy channeled into an uncharacteristically quiet focus, His hands rested on his thighs, his shoulders loose. Even Judd, who had resisted this whole thing from the start, seemed at ease. Paul was calm and measured, his expression serene, although he tried forcing himself to focus whenever Mateo or Ravi made funny noises.

Buck sat with his legs stretched out, his mask barely clinging to his face as a faint smile hinted he was one joke away from breaking the calm. Eddie sat upright, composed and steady, clearly taking the session to heart. Hen looked serene too, her eyes closed and a peaceful smile softening her features, as though she was perfectly at home in the stillness. Chimney was also barely holding it together, his mask slipping askew as he fought back a grin.

I let out a soft breath and closed my eyes again, letting myself sink back into the rhythm of the session.

Meanwhile in T.K.'s former bedroom

The nostalgia was thick in the air. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light across the room, highlighting the faint smile on T.K.'s face as he leaned back against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him. Carlos sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers absently playing with the fabric of the comforter as his brow furrowed in thought.

"Babe, I've been thinking," Carlos began, his voice low, as though he was still sorting the words in front of him. "Ever since what happened with Detective Washington, I... I don't know if I can stay with the APD. Every time I step into the precinct, it feels like there's this shadow hanging over me . Like I can't trust anyone." He paused, his eyes locking onto T.K.'s.

"I don't think I belong there anymore."

T.K.'s expression softened as he reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Carlos's knee. "Babe, you don't have to rush into any decisions. You've been through so much, it's okay to feel this way."

Carlos nodded but hesitated before speaking again. "I've been thinking about my dad. About the way he carried himself as a well decorated Texas Ranger . I always admired him, you know? And lately, I've wondered... Maybe that's where I belong. Maybe it's time for a fresh start , somewhere I can make a real difference ."

T.K.'s eyes widened slightly, his hand stilling on Carlos's knee. "You're thinking about becoming a Ranger?"

"Maybe," Carlos admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I wanted to know what you thought. Would you...support me if I did, babe?"

T.K. sat up straighter, his gaze steady and full of warmth. "Babe, of course, I would support you. But listen, making a decision like that after everything you've been through - it's huge. And grief... trauma... they change you. You need time to process all of this. Time to heal. I think you should take a break first. Step away from APD for a bit and focus on yourself before diving into something new."

Carlos sighed, a small smile creeping onto his face. "You always knew what to say, didn't you?"

T.K. grinned, leaning closer. "That's what I'm here for." He reached up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from Carlos's forehead. "But for the record, my life's already blessed just having you by my side . Whatever path you choose, I'll be there. Like the old days, remember ?"

Carlos chuckled, his eyes crinkling with affection. "The old days, huh? You mean the ones where you kept me on my toes with all your drama ?"

"Excuse me, babe,” T.K. said, "I think you mean my charm."

Carlos shook his head, laughing as he leaned in closer. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"And you love it,” T.K. murmured, closing the gap between them.

Carlos chuckled, his tension easing, and he reached up to cup T.K.'s cheek. "You're not wrong. My life is blessed because of you, T.K.," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

T.K. leaned in, his forehead resting against Carlos'. "Back at you, Carlos," he whispered before their lips met.

Their lips met in a kiss that started slow and sweet but quickly deepened. Carlos' hands slid to T.K.'s waist, pulling him closer.

It started slow, T.K. 's hands resting lightly on Carlos' shoulders as their lips moved in sync, tender and unhurried . Carlos deepened the kiss gradually, pulling him closer until there was no space between them.

The kiss grew more passionate, more consuming, as the emotions they had been holding back spilled into the moment.

T.K. shifted slightly, his hands sliding to Carlos' chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath his touch. Carlos responded by holding T.K. even tighter, his hands splayed across T.K.'s back, anchoring them together.

They pulled back just enough to catch their breaths, their foreheads still pressed together. T.K.'s eyes fluttered open, his gaze meeting Carlos', a soft smile playing on his lips. "You're stuck with me," he teased, his voice a little breathless.

"Forever," Carlos replied, leaning in to capture T.K.'s lips again.

Meanwhile back in the living room

Owen's voice broke the silence again. "Now, bring your awareness back to the room. Wiggle your fingers and toes if you need to, and when you're ready, gently open your eyes."

One by one, we did, exchanging small, contented smiles.

"Well", Ravi jokes, breaking the silence. "I think I found my inner peace... but I also think I might be stuck to this face mask permanently."

Mateo leaned in with a grin. "Don't worry, Ravi. If it's stuck, Juddy-boi can peel it off for you. He's the expert now."

Judd groaned but did not bother to hide the faint smile tugging at his lips.

Owen, watching us with a quiet satisfaction, clapped his hands together. "See? Not so bad, was it?"

Nancy wiped tears of laughter from her eyes and nodded. "I'll admit, Cap, you might be onto something here. But next time, I'm picking the playlist. We need more spa vibes to go with this."

"Alright, Nancy,” Owen said with a chuckle. "Now, let's clean up. Dinner's almost ready and I'm pretty sure Bobby and Athena won't wait forever."

As we peeled off our masks and gathered the mess, the earlier chaos of the evening felt like a distant memory. For the first time in a while, everything felt... lighter .

As the laughter from the meditation session slowly faded into comfortable silence, Bobby's voice rang out from the kitchen, calling us to dinner. "Food's ready, everyone!"

I turned to Owen, "Cap, I'll go get T.K. and Carlos ready for dinner", I told him, trying to sound casual. "They're probably still in the bedroom resting."

Owen gave me a grateful nod, a small smile on his face. "Thanks, Eli. We'll be waiting."

I made my way down the hallway, determined to get them out of the bedroom so we could finally sit down to dinner.

"Hey, ummm, T.K.? Carlos? Bobby says dinner's ready so..."

I pushed the bedroom door open without waiting for a response, half expecting them to be ready by now.

What I did not expect was to walk straight into the middle of a kiss - T.K. and Carlos, lost in each other, their lips still pressing together as if they hadn't been apart for days. The sight caught me completely off guard . My brain froze for a second as I processed what I was seeing, and then - too late.

I blurted out, "Oh! Sorry!"

I slammed the door shut so fast that I nearly tripped over my own feet. My heart was racing, my face burning hotter than the oven in the kitchen. "Didn't mean to interrupt, I didn't see anything!" I said, my voice high pitched and embarrassed.

Behind the door, T.K.'s voice called out, a mixture of laughter and frustration. "Eli, seriously?"

I bolted back down the hallway to the dining room, doing my best to compose myself. "They'll be out in a minute,” I said with a quick shrug, trying to act like nothing was out of the ordinary, though my red face and the awkwardness in my voice gave me away.

Nancy, sitting on one of the dining chairs, arched an eyebrow as she looked at me.

"Walked in on them, didn't you, Eli?" she asked with a grin, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Shut up, Nance! Ughh, I'm never opening a door without knocking again."

The whole group erupted into laughter and I could not help but laugh along too. It was a wholesome 'Tarlos' moment that I'll remember for the rest of my life.

-- 

Chapter Text

The 118 truck gleamed under the morning sunlight and as it pulled away, Ravi hung out the side window, waving with exaggerated vigor. 

"Don't screw it up Eli!" he shouted with a grin. 

I laughed, shaking my head. "You too, Ravi! Don't trip over your own boots!" The others laughed, and Owen, standing with his hands on his hips, turned to the rest of us. 

"All right, folks. Fun's over. Let's head back to the firehouse and get to work." The 126 crew, who were already on their way to load into their vehicles, I felt a strange mix of nerves and excitement. 

My first day as a paramedic. A new beginning.  

As T.K. and I stepped into the firehouse, it hit me. I am here. Not as a visitor or a bystander , but as part of the team. The last time I had been in this firehouse, I was just a guy stopping by to offer my gratitude to the people who had saved my life. Now? I am one of them . 

The energy in the firehouse was high but relaxed. Owen and Tommy wasted no time laying out the plan for the morning. "All right, everyone", Owen began, his commanding voice echoing in the bay. 

"We've got a new firefighter back on shift and a new paramedic starting today." He gestured towards T.K. and me, his expression a mix of pride and enthusiasm. "Let's make sure everything's ready to go. Trucks, ambulances, gear - it all needs to be spotless. We've got to look good rolling out." 

Mateo groaned dramatically. "You mean I have to clean the entire ladder truck? Have you seen how big that thing is?" 

"Bigger than your patience", Marjan jokes, earning a round of laughter. 

"Bigger than his muscles, too", Paul added, flexing his biceps for emphasis. 

"Hey!" Mateo protested, puffing out his chest. "I'll have you know I've been hitting the gym!" 

As the team gathered around the trucks with cleaning solutions and sponges, I barely made it two steps before Owen called out to me. "Eli, a word upstairs?" 

I glanced over at T.K., who gave me a small, encouraging smile. "Go on, Eli. I'll meet you back in the bay." 

Following Owen up the stairs, I could not help but feel the nerves bubbling in my stomach. When we reached his office, Captain Vega was already there, leaning casually against the desk. Between them, on the desk, was a neatly folded uniform . My uniform . 

"Eli,” Captain Strand began, his tone warm but firm, "today isn't just another first day on the job. It's the start of something bigger - for you and for us. You're part of the 126 family now ." 

Captain Vega picked up the uniform, handing it to me. "This is yours. You've officially earned it." 

I took the uniform from her hands, the weight of what it represented officially hit me hard: responsibility, trust and a chance to prove myself. 

"Go ahead,” Captain Vega said with a nod towards the locker room across the hall. "Try it on." 

--

I stood in the locker room, staring at the uniform like it was some kind of a puzzle. "How hard can this be?" I mumbled to myself. Famous last words.  

The shirt was easy enough. It fits snugly, the fabric crisp and professional. The pants, though? Another story. It took me a solid five minutes of hopping around like a kangaroo before I managed to get both my legs in without falling over. 

I caught my reflection in the mirror and groaned. "Totally professional, El..." I muttered.

Then came the boots. Oh, the boots... 

I sat on the bench, pulling at the first boot like my life depended on it. It refused to budge past my heel. I gritted my teeth and yanked harder, only for the boot to finally slip on and nearly send me flying backwards off the bench. 

"Okay," I said, catching my breath. "One down." 

The second boot was not any kinder . As I wrestled with it, beads of sweat started to form on my forehead. "This is supposed to be the easy part," I grumbled. 

Finally, with one last mighty tug, the boot pooped on - along with a sudden cramp that shot through my leg. 

I stumbled forward, hobbling around the restroom like an elderly man trying to shake off arthritis , each step more pitiful than the last. 

"Oh great," I muttered, grimacing. "First day on the job, and I'm already walking like I need a cane."

When I stepped back into the office in full uniform, it felt... surreal . Looking down at the navy blue shirt with the Austin Fire Department patch, the fitted trousers, and the polished boots, it was like stepping into a dream . 

Captain Strand let out a low whistle. "Now that's what I call sharp." 

Captain Vega smiled, her eyes bright. "Looks great on you, Eli. How does it feel?" 

I hesitated, trying to put the swirling emotions into words. "It feels...real now," I finally said. "Like I'm really part of this." 

"You are," Captain Strand said firmly. "And you're going to do great things here." 

"Just remember," Captain Vega added, her tone shifting slightly, "this uniform comes with a lot of expectations . Not just from us, but from yourself. Take it one call at a time , and trust your training." 

"I will, Cap," I said, my voice steady even as my chest tightened with a mix of pride and nerves. 

"Good," Captain Strand said, patting me on the shoulder. "Now get downstairs. Your team's waiting." 

Back in the bay, T.K. was the first to spot me, his face lighting up with a grin. "Looking good, Hayes!" 

Mateo gave an exaggerated thumbs up. "We've got ourselves a new poster boy !"

"Probie! Watch where you aim the hose!" Marjan yelled, jumping back as a jet of water from Mateo's wildly swinging hose splashed her squarely in the side.

Mateo froze, eyes wide with panic as he realized what he'd done. "Oh no, Marj! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to - "

"You're lucky it's just water, Mr Guardian Angle ! " Marjan shot back, her voice carrying that sharp but teasing tone that only she could pull off. She wrung out the hem of her shirt, water dripping onto the concrete floor. 

"If this were foam or something sticky, we'd be having a very different conversation right now."

The entire crew burst into laughter, even Nancy, who rarely let her composure slip. "Mateo, you're not supposed to be hosing down your teammates ," she said, shaking her head with disapproval.

"Honestly," Judd added with a smirk, "if you're gonna hose someone down, at least make it on purpose so we can all enjoy the show."

Mateo turned a deep shade of red, fumbling with the hose nozzle. "It was an accident! The trigger's more sensitive than I thought!"

"Yeah, yeah," Marjan replied, tossing a wet rag his way. "Let's see if you can handle cleaning the rest of the truck without turning it into a water park, alright?"

"Eli, come on. We'll tackle the ambulance together. Let the children squabble over the firetruck." 

I followed Nancy to our rig, grabbing a bucket of soapy water and a sponge. 

"So," she said, smirking as she dunked her sponge into the bucket, "first day jitters?"

"More like first day adrenaline, Nance," I replied, laughing nervously. "But yeah, maybe a little." 

"Don't worry, Eli. By the end of today, you'll be so tired that you won't have the energy to be nervous." 

As we got to cleaning, Nancy wasted no time guiding me over to our ambulance. She gestured with her hand like a game show host showing off the prize. 

"Welcome to your second home, rookie ," she said with a grin. "The rig." 

I raised an eyebrow, laughing. "Second home? Not third?" 

She waved me off, her grin widening. "Oh, trust me. After today, you'll know every corner of this rig better than your own bedroom. Now, pay attention - this is important." 

Nancy opened one of the rear cabinets, revealing neatly arranged supplies. She tapped on a row of items. "Top shelf: oxygen masks, nasal cannulas, and bag valve masks. This is your airway management zone. " 

I nodded, already feeling like I was cramming for a test. 

"Below that," she continued, pointing to another compartment, "are trauma supplies. Gauze, tourniquets, chest seals. You know, the stuff you'll grab when someone's leaking everywhere ." 

"Leaking?" I asked, grimacing. She smirked. "It's my word for it. You'll get used to it. Now over here..." She moved to another compartment.

"This is your meds section . EpiPens, nitroglycerin, aspirin, epinephrine, fentanyl and the glorious glucose gel for the diabetics." 

"Noted," I said, committing it all to memory. "And here's your monitor," she said, patting the portable cardiac monitor (LifePak) like it was a cherished pet. 

"This thing is your lifeline. It reads vitals, runs ECGs, and tells you if someone's about to kick the bucket." 

"Comforting," I muttered. 

"You'll learn to love it, boot ," she replied with a wink. 

Nancy then handed me a stack of medical supplies, her voice patient but firm as she explained their use.

"We're now going to restock the trauma kit. These are gauze pads, IV sets, saline - everything we need to be ready for emergencies. Think of it as making sure your toolbox is fully equipped before we get our next call." 

I nodded, carefully placing each item in its designated compartment. The meticulous organization of the ambulance amazed me. Every item had a place. 

"This is your oxygen cylinder," she continued, tapping it lightly. "You'll want to check it every shift to make sure it's full. And this?" She held up a small device. "It's a glucometer . Know how to use it?" 

"Umm, yeah, I think so", I replied hesitantly. 

"Well, we'll practice later," Nancy said with a smile. "For now, let's just focus on getting everything stocked and shiny." 

Once the supplies were organized, both of us started cleaning the exterior of the rig. Nancy climbed up to tackle the roof while I worked on the sides. The windscreen, however, was a whole other challenge. 

I tiptoed, with the sponge in my hand, struggling to reach the top corner. Nancy chuckled from above. "Don't tell me you're giving up already!" 

"Not a chance", I replied, laughing. "But if you've got a step ladder hiding somewhere, now's the time to share." 

We continued our work, chatting as we scrubbed away the grime. The scent of soap filled the air, and for a moment, the repetitive motion of cleaning felt oddly therapeutic . Just as I finished cleaning my portion, I heard a familiar voice behind me. 

"Look at you, hard at work,” T.K. teased, leaning casually against the wall. "Watching you clean the rig brings back memories . I've done my fair share of scrubbing these things back in the day." 

I turned to face him, grinning. "Oh yeah? Any tips for a newbie like me, T.K.?" 

"Yeah", he said, smirking. "Don't let Nancy catch you missing a spot, or she'll make you redo the whole thing." 

Nancy chimed in from the roof. "You bet I will!" 

T.K. laughed, crossing his arms. "You're doing great, Eli. It's good to see you settling in and for a fact there, you're doing better than Mateo ." 

"Hey!" Mateo called from the other side of the bay. "I can hear you, T.K.!" 

[9-1-1 call recording officially begins]

Dispatcher: "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" 

Caller: "There's a fire! Oh my God, there's a fire at Barton Creek Mall! The ceiling just collapsed - there are many people trapped!" 

Dispatcher: "Ma'am, I need you to stay calm. Can you tell me your location in the mall and what you see? 

Caller: "We're in the food court! Smoke is everywhere, and there are people under the rubble. Please, hurry!" 

Dispatcher: "Help is on the way, ma'am." 

Caller: "There's so much smoke and I can barely breathe." 

Dispatcher: "Ma'am, stay low to the ground if you can. Just stay on the line with me until the responders reach there okay? We'll get you all out safely. 

The sirens in the firehouse started to wail. "Attention all units, structure fire at Willow Creek Mall. Partial collapse reported, multiple victims trapped. Respond Code 3." 

The firehouse burst into a flurry of motion. Captain Strand's voice cut through the noise. "Let's move, people! This is a big one!" 

Everyone sprang into action. Nancy grabbed the medical bags and sprinted towards the ambulance. Mateo, Marjan and Paul hauled themselves into the ladder truck while Judd shouted instructions to ensure every piece of equipment was accounted for. 

I stood frozen for a moment, my mind racing. T.K. appeared by my side, his voice steady but urgent. "Eli, come on. Are we ready?" 

I snapped out of it, nodding quickly. "Yeah, let's do this." 

We ran towards the vehicles. T.K. climbed into the engine with his crew, and I joined Nancy in the ambulance. Captain Vega slid into the driver's seat, her expression focused and determined. 

As the ambulance roared to life, lights flashing and sirens blaring, Captain Vega glanced back at me. "Eli, this is your first big call as a paramedic. Just remember your training. We're here to support you." 

Nancy nodded, reaching over to squeeze my arm reassuringly. "You're going to do great. Let's go over the protocols one more time. When we arrive, we set up triage. Prioritize the most critical patients first. Don't hesitate to call for backup if needed." 

I nodded, trying to steady my breathing. "Got it." 

The radio crackled with updates from dispatch. "Engine 126, reports of heavy smoke visible from the north side of the mall , be advised, collapse zone confirmed in the food court area." 

Captain Strand's voice came through the radio. "Copy that, dispatch. 126 en route." 

Captain Vega steered the ambulance expertly through the traffic. The closer we got to the mall, the darker the sky became. Thick plumes of smoke billowed upwards, visible from miles away. As we approached the parking lot, the scale of the disaster blindsided me . 

Flames licked at the shattered glass of the mall's facade, and panicked individuals stumbled out of the burning premise, coughing and clutching on to their belongings. 

The ambulance screeched to a halt behind the fire engine. Captain Strand raised his voice, commanding the attention of his team. His tone was calm yet urgent, every word measured . 

"T.K., Judd, you're with me. We're going in through the main entrance to the food court. There's a partial ceiling collapse in that area, so watch your footing. Our priority is getting those trapped victims out safely ." 

He turned to Paul. "Paul, I need you to monitor the structural stability . If there's any signs of further collapse, you radio us immediately. Got it?" 

Paul nodded. "Copy that, Cap." 

"Mateo, Marjan," Captain Strand continued, "You're on ventilation . Get that aerial up and start clearing the smoke on the south side. That'll give us better visibility and make it safer for the evacuees. Work quickly but stay safe." 

He glanced over to Captain Vega, who was stationed near Nancy and me by the ambulance. "Captain Vega, keep your team ready at the triage zone. We're going to need you guys for immediate medical assistance as soon as we bring them out." 

Captain Vega gave a sharp nod. "Understood." 

Finally, Captain Strand addressed all of us. "This is a coordinated effort. Stay in constant communication, and remember, no heroics. We work as a team, and we bring everyone home." 

The team split up, everyone moving with purpose. I followed Nancy to set up the triage area as Captain Vega stayed nearby, scanning the scene for any victims that might need immediate attention. 

Nancy and I worked quickly, pulling out collapsible stretchers, oxygen tanks and trauma kits. The triage area was strategically located about 30 yards from the mall entrance, far enough to avoid danger but close enough for rapid response. 

Nancy handed me an O2 tank and mask. "We'll need this for anyone suffering from smoking inhalation," she explained. "If you hear someone wheezing or witness cyanosis - bluish discoloration of the skin, start them on oxygen immediately." 

I nodded, trying to absorb everything mentally.

--

It was not long before I spotted T.K. and Judd emerging from the smoke-filled entrance. Between them, they carried a middle aged man whose face was pale and streaked with soot. The man was wheezing, his breath labored.

Nancy sprang into action. "Eli, stretcher!" she called, and I rushed forward to help. We carefully laid the man down and Nancy immediately assessed his condition. "Severe smoke inhalation," she said, "Eli, start him on oxygen, 15 litres per minute, non rebreather mask." 

I fumbled with the mask for a moment before securing it over the man's face. He coughed weakly but began breathing more steadily as the oxygen flowed. 

Nancy checked his pulse and pupils. "Pulse is 140, he's tachycardic , but not surprising given the stress. Pupils are reactive, which is a good sign." 

She looked at me. "We'll need to monitor him for signs of carbon monoxide poisoning. If he starts showing confusion or dizziness, we may need to administer a CO oximeter test and even consider hyperbaric oxygen therapy later." 

"Copy that, Nance," I said, filling the information mentally. 

Just as we finished stabilizing him, another victim arrived, this time carried by Paul and Captain Strand. The woman had a deep laceration on her arm, blood soaking through a makeshift bandage. 

Nancy quickly guided her to another stretcher. "Eli, grab the trauma kit. We need to stop that bleeding." I grabbed the kit and handed Nancy a roll of gauze and antiseptic wipes. She pressed the gauze firmly over the wound. 

"Eli, elevate her arm to reduce the blood flow." I lifted the woman's arm gently but firmly, keeping it above heart level as Nancy worked to secure a pressure bandage. "This should hold for now, we'll get her to the hospital for sutures." 

The process repeated as more victims were brought out. Some required splints for fractures, others needed IV fluids for dehydration. I began to find a rhythm, my nerves settling as I focused on each task. Nancy's steady presence was a constant reassurance and I followed her lead, learning more with every patient we treated. 

In the middle of the chaos, T.K. passed by, drenched in sweat but flashing me a quick thumbs up . "You're doing great, Eli. Keep it up!" 

I managed a small smile, feeling a surge of determination. This was what I had trained for, and I was not going to let my nerves hold me back. 

As the chaos of the scene continued, Mateo appeared at the edge of the triage area, guiding an elderly man towards us. The man looked frail, his steps unsteady and his breathing was shallow and labored . His family - three adults and a teenage boy, followed close behind, their faces etched with worry. 

"Over here!" I called out, pointing to an empty stretcher. Mateo gently lowered the elderly man onto it, but as soon as he sat down, his condition deteriorated. His breaths became wheezier, his chest rising and falling with visible effort. 

The family immediately surrounded him, their voices overlapping in panic. "Is he going to be okay?", "Please help him!", "He has a heart condition, what's happening to him?" 

I felt a knot of anxiety tighten in my chest, but I pushed it aside. I had trained for this and now it was time to step up. "I need everyone to take a step back so I can attend to him", I said firmly, raising my hands to emphasize the need for space. 

"I promise, we'll do everything we can." They hesitated for a moment, but my tone seemed to reassure them. They stepped back just enough to give me room to work. I crouched beside the elderly man, quickly assessing his condition.

His skin was pale and clammy, his lips tinged with blue - signs of hypoxia . I placed two fingers on his neck to check his pulse. It was weak and irregular, a possible indication of a cardiac event. 

"Nancy, can we grab the monitor? I think we need to check his heart rhythm," I called over my shoulder. I then glanced back at the family. "You guys mentioned he has a heart condition right? Is he on other medications?" 

One of the adults, a woman who seemed to be his daughter, spoke up. "Sir, my dad has a history of heart problems and COPD. He takes medications for both, but he didn't bring them with him today." 

I nodded, mentally piecing together the clues. COPD, or chronic obstructive pulmonary disease , combined with his symptoms, could mean a lot of things - low oxygen saturation, fluid build up in his lungs, or even a possible exacerbation triggered by the smoke. 

As Nancy arrived with the monitor and oxygen tank, I turned to Captain Vega, who had joined us. "Cap, I'm seeing cyanosis, a weak pulse, and a history of heart disease. He could be in respiratory distress or heading towards a cardiac event." 

Captain Vega nodded, her calm demeanor steadying my nerves. "Good observations. Let's get him hooked up to the monitor and start oxygen therapy first. What else are you thinking?" 

"I'm wondering if this could be a sign of acute respiratory failure ,” I said as I quickly attached the pulse oximeter to the man's finger. The reading confirmed my suspicion - his oxygen saturation was dangerously low at 82% . "It might also be a cardiac event due to the stress." 

Captain Vega glanced at the monitor, then back at me. "Both are possibilities. Let's treat his respiratory distress first and keep monitoring for changes." 

I grabbed the oxygen mask, adjusting the flow to 15 litres per minute. "Sir, this is going to help you breathe", I said gently as I placed the mask over his face. His breathing steadied slightly, but he was still struggling. 

Nancy worked quickly to attach the ECG leads to his chest while I secured the mask. The monitor beeped to life, displaying an irregular heart rhythm - a sign of atrial fibrillation , a common but serious condition in elderly patients with heart problems. 

The family edged closer, their anxiety palpable. "What's wrong with him?" the daughter asked, tears brimming in her eyes. 

I turned to her, keeping my voice calm and steady. "He's experiencing some complications with his breathing and his heart, but we're doing everything we can to stabilize him. The oxygen is helping and we're monitoring his heart condition closely." 

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, though the fear in her eyes remained. "Thank you, Sir,” she whispered. 

I turned back to Captain Vega. "Cap, he’s having AFib (atrial fibrillation) … Should we consider administering a beta blocker and prepare to transport him to the hospital?" 

Captain Vega nodded thoughtfully. "Good call, Eli. We'll relay his condition to the hospital and get their assistance. For now, keep monitoring his vitals and look for any signs of deterioration." 

As we worked to stabilize the elderly man, I could not help but feel a sense of determination growing within me. As we loaded him up to our ambulance, the daughter turned to me with a tearful smile. "You saved my Dad… I can’t find ways to thank you, Sir." 

I managed a small, humble smile. "We're just doing our job." 

Hours later, the relentless battle against the blazing fire at the mall finally came to an end. The 126 firefighters, covered in soot and sweat, emerged victorious, extinguishing the flames that had threatened to consume the entire premise. The scale of the fire had been immense, and everyone had given their all to save as many lives as possible. 

--

Our paramedic team reached the firehouse first, driving back in silence. The adrenaline from the day's events was starting to wear off, leaving behind a mix of exhaustion and reflection. Captain Vega parked the ambulance and motioned for Nancy and me to join her inside the firehouse. 

As we stood in the bay, Captain Vega leaned against the ambulance, her expression calm but serious. "Good job out on field, both of you,” she began, her tone carrying the weight of both praise and the expectation for growth. 

"Eli, you handled a tough situation with the elderly man . For your first call as a paramedic, that's commendable." 

"Thank you, Cap", I said, my voice still tinged with the nervous energy that had carried me through the day. 

"But,” she continued, her gaze sharpening slightly, "there's something I want you to work on. When you were assessing the patient, you started listing out possible diagnoses before completing all your tests and observations ." 

I nodded, recalling the moment when I shared my thoughts about the man's conditions. "I was trying to think ahead,” I admitted, feeling a little sheepish. 

"That's good,” Captain Vega said, her tone softening. "Critical thinking is important, but remember this: the tests you conduct and the signs you observe will guide you. Think of it like putting together a puzzle. Each piece - a symptom, a test result - fits together to reveal the full picture. If you start guessing the outcome too early, you might miss something crucial." 

Nancy chimed in, her voice encouraging. "Cap's right, Eli. You're sharp and that's a strength. But let the facts lead you to the answer. It'll make you a stronger paramedic in the long run." 

I absorbed their words, feeling a mix of gratitude and determination. "Understood! I'll make sure to focus on what's in front of me next time,” I said sincerely. Captain Vega gave me a reassuring smile. 

--

The rumble of the 126 fire truck pulling into the bay broke the silence that had settled over the firehouse. Nancy and I stood near the ambulance, watching as the massive vehicle eased into its spot. Its once pristine exterior was now covered with ash and soot. 

One by one, the crew disembarked, their exhaustion evident in the slump of their shoulders and the slow pace of their steps. Judd patted Paul on the back as they exchanged a few words, Mateo stumbled off the truck muttering something about his lungs being full of ash, and Marjan tossed her helmet onto the truck's seat, looking both tired and triumphant. 

T.K. was the last to step down, and when our eyes met across the bay, a wave of emotion hit me. Relief, pride and a tinge of disbelief all mingled together. We had both survived our first shifts back with determination and grit. 

I could not help but smile as I walked towards him, my legs moving instinctively. "You did great out there, T.K.” I said, my voice thick with sincerity as I reached him. 

T.K. returned the smile, his eyes softening. "So did you Eli, I heard about how you handled the elderly man." 

Without thinking, I pulled him into a short hug, the kind that did not need words to convey what it meant. His arms wrapped around me briefly before we stepped back, still smiling at each other. 

"First day back, and you're already making me look bad,” he teased lightly. 

"Not a chance,” I replied, shaking my head. "You were seriously incredible out there, T.K.." 

Our moment was interrupted by Captain Strand's unmistakable presence as he approached. Despite the exhaustion etched into his features, his eyes held a proud gleam as he approached me and T.K., who stood side by side near the ambulance. 

"You two," he started, his voice steady but filled with pride, "I couldn't be prouder of what I saw today." 

T.K. raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Really, Dad? No notes?" 

Owen smirked, folding his arms. "Don't push your luck, son. But seriously, you both showed incredible composure out there. T.K., you were decisive and level headed in one of the toughest situations we've faced in months." 

T.K. nodded, his demeanor slightly softened by the rare praise. "Thanks, Dad." 

Then Owen turned his attention to me, and I suddenly felt the full weight of his gaze. "Eli, first day on the job, and you handled it so well. I heard about the elderly man and how you took control confidently." 

He was not done. "You didn't just treat a patient today - you showed compassion, calmed his family, and worked seamlessly with your team. That's the kind of paramedic who makes a difference. That's the spirit. Keep that attitude, Eli. You're going to go far in this line of work."

"Thank you, Captain Strand. It means a lot," I said earnestly, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling within me.

Owen gave us both a firm nod, patting T.K. on the back one more time before stepping away to check on the rest of the team. As he left, T.K. turned to me with a knowing grin.

"See? He's not so scary once you get past the whole Captain Owen Strand persona."

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "I'm starting to see that."

-- 

As the evening descended into night, the locker room hummed with the sounds of weary yet satisfied chatter. Everyone was unwinding after the long and eventful shift, changing out of their gear and into civilian clothes.

"I'm hitting the drive-thru on the way home," Paul declared, pulling on his jacket. "Anyone wants to place bets on how many nuggets I can eat in one sitting?" 

"Not as many as me," Mateo shot back, earning a round of amused groans. Marjan chuckled, tying her hijab. "I think you guys need to stop using fast food as a coping mechanism." 

"Never," Mateo replied, feigning offense. 

T.K. walked over to my locker as I struggled to zip up my hoodie. "Hey, Eli," he said, nudging me gently. "You should come over tonight. Carlos prepared dinner and maybe we can watch a movie or something. It's been a long day ; you deserve to chill." 

I paused, tempted by the idea, but I shook my head with a smile. "I appreciate it, T.K., but I'm gonna pass. You and Carlos should have some quality 'Tarlos' time." 

T.K. gave me a suspicious look. "Quality 'Tarlos' time? What's that supposed to mean?" 

I smirked, leaning closer to whisper, "I mean, I'm doing you a favor. Remember yesterday? When I walked in on you two mid-kiss?" 

T.K. 's face turned slightly red as he playfully smacked my arm - real hard . "Okay that's it. You're banned from our place forever." 

I laughed, rubbing my arm where his hand had landed. "You're just mad because I'm right." 

The others caught wind of our exchange and started chuckling. Marjan looked over, grinning. "What's this about Eli walking in on something awkward?" 

"NOTHING!" T.K. exclaimed, as he flushed with embarrassment. 

"Everything," I teased, before T.K. came and shoved me. 

--

Chapter Text

The next morning, the air was crisp and quiet around Owen's house as the members of the 118 prepared to head back to Los Angeles. The lingering scent of coffee and breakfast hung in the air, and the mood was bittersweet as we all gathered in the driveway to send them off.

"Thank you for everything, Captain Nash,” I said sincerely, shaking Bobby's hand. "Coming all this way to help us - it means more than words can say."

Bobby smiled warmly, his grip firm yet comforting. "We're all family, Eli. When one of us needs help, we show up. Don't hesitate to call if you ever need anything again."

I stepped back, and my gaze fell on Ravi, who stood a little to the side. Leaving him was going to be the hardest part . As if sensing my hesitation, Ravi broke into a grin, stepping forward and pulling me into a tight hug.

"You better not ghost me, Hayes,” he teased, his voice slightly shaky despite the humor.

"Never,” I promised, squeezing his shoulders tightly. "Keep in touch, okay? And if you ever get time off, come back to Austin. We'll show you the best barbecue this city has to offer."

Ravi laughed, stepping back reluctantly. "Sounds great! But you have to promise me one thing: don't let Mateo burn the firehouse down before I visit."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "No guarantees there!"

The 118 climbed into their vehicles, giving one last wave before driving off. The sight of them leaving felt like the end of a chapter , with their presence leaving an indelible mark on all of us.

As the dust settled, the 126 began preparing to return to the firehouse. Calls awaited us, and the city of Austin would not wait any longer. T.K. lingered by Carlos' side, their fingers brushing as they stood by Owen's front door.

"You can stay here, babe,” T.K. offered softly, his expression hopeful. 

"I appreciate it T.K., but I've got to head back to our house. There's some stuff that I’ve yet to clean up." He replied.

Before T.K. could reply, Carlos pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead against T.K.'s for a moment, both of them unwilling to let the moment end.

“All the best for your first shift back, babe. You got this.”

T.K. smiled, his fingers brushing Carlos’ cheek in silent gratitude. “I’m lucky to have you.”

Carlos grinned, giving T.K.’s hand one last squeeze before stepping back. “Go show them what you’re made of.”

As the team loaded up into their respective vehicles, I caught up to Carlos, curious about his next move. 

"Hey, Carlos,” I called out, jogging up to him. "Aren't you heading back to the police department today?"

He turned to me, hands in his pockets. "They gave me a week off to heal and to...figure some things out,” he explained. "Guess I've got some thinking and reflection to do today."

Captain Strand patted Carlos on the shoulder, his voice filled with care and concern. "Take care of yourself, Carlos. You need this time for yourself." Carlos nodded, his expression grateful as he climbed into his car.

--

Instead of heading straight back to his house, Carlos found himself driving towards his mother's house. The decision felt impulsive, but something about the thought of her comforting presence pulled him there.

When he arrived, Andrea answered the door with a look of surprise. "Carlitos! ¿Qué haces aquí tan temprano? Is everything okay?"

Carlos stepped inside, smiling faintly as he kissed her on the cheek. "Hola Mamá, estoy bien. I just...need to talk. Is that okay?"

Her expression softened immediately, and she ushered him into the living room. "Of course, mijo . I'm always here for you. Do you want some coffee?"

Carlos chuckled, nodding. " Sí, gracias . I think I'll need it."

As Andrea busied herself in the kitchen, Carlos sat on the familiar couch, gazing around at the home that had always been his sanctuary . He did not know where the conversation would lead , but he knew that if anyone could help him sort through his thoughts, it was his mother .

As he waited, his eyes wandered to the bookshelf by the corner, where framed family photos were neatly arranged. One picture caught his attention - a photo of himself as a child, smiling widely while sitting on his father's shoulders. His mother stood beside them, her arms wrapped around her husband, their happiness radiating through the frozen moment in time.

Next to it was a more recent photo taken just a few years ago. Gabriel looked older, the fine lines on his face more visible, but his smile remained the same - warm, proud and steady . Carlos swallowed hard, the familiar ache of grief washing over him.

His heart felt heavy as memories of his father flooded his mind. The sound of his laughter, the firm yet loving tone in his voice, the pride in his eyes whenever he looked at Carlos - it all lingered, vivid yet painfully out of reach.

Carlos took a deep breath, blinking away the sting of tears. Andrea noticed Carlos' gaze fixed on the family photos. She set the coffee down on the table and came to sit beside him. Gently, she picked up the framed picture of three of them - Carlos as a boy on his father's shoulders, beaming with joy.

"This one was at the county fair,” Andrea said softly, her thumb brushing over the frame. "Your father let you ride on his shoulders the whole day because you wanted the best view of everything . He didn't complain, not even once."

Carlos let out a quiet laugh, his voice tinged with sorrow. "He always did whatever it took to make me happy. He never let me see how tired he was or how much he sacrificed."

Andrea smiled, though tears glistened in her eyes. "He was so proud of you, mijo . Always. Even in the smallest things. He loved being your dad."

She placed the photo back on the shelf and reached for another, her fingers trembling slightly as she picked it up. It was a photo of Carlos in his APD uniform, standing tall and proud next to his father, Gabriel, who was dressed in his Texas Rangers uniform. The contrast was striking - two men, father and son bound by love and duty , yet walking in different paths .

Carlos stared at the photo, his throat tightened. "I...I remember this day,” he murmured. "It was my graduation from the academy. Dad looked proud, but I could tell...I could tell he wished I was wearing the same uniform as him ."

Andrea shook her head gently, her voice calm but firm. "No, mijo . He was proud because you were following your dream. He never wanted you to feel pressured to follow his path. That smile? It wasn't about the uniform. It was about you - his dearest son - becoming the man he always knew you could be. "

Carlos gulped, the memory of that day sharp in his mind. He could still hear his father's voice, see the pride in his eyes. But now the image felt heavier, burdened by a lingering question he could not shake it off.

"Mom, sometimes I wonder if I made the wrong choice ,” Carlos admitted. "Working with the Austin Police Department ... Maybe it wasn't enough. Maybe I should have gone with him, learned from him, made him proud in a different way ."

Andrea placed the photo back on the shelf and turned to face him, her eyes filled with unwavering love. "My son, your father was proud of you every day. Whether you were chasing criminals in Austin or making breakfast on a Sunday morning , his pride wasn't tied to your career - it was tied to who you are as an individual ."

Carlos nodded, but the internal tug of war continued. He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts racing. "But now, with everything that's happened... I don't know. The APD doesn't feel the same anymore. The betrayal, the politics ... it's like I've lost faith in it. But if I leave, what am I leaving behind? And if I join the Texas Rangers ... what if it's not what I expect? What if I can't live up to what Dad was?"

Andrea reached out, placing her hands on Carlos' shoulders. "Your father wasn't perfect either. He had doubts, fears, just like you . But he didn't let them define him. If you choose to join the Rangers, do it because it's what feels right for you - not because you're trying to live up to anyone else's expectations. "

After a heartfelt morning with his mother, Carlos felt a mix of emotions - gratitude and the lingering weight of his decision about his future. As Andrea hugged him goodbye, she held onto his hands tightly. "Remember mijo , take your time. Your father and I would want you to follow your heart, not a shadow of his ." 

Carlos nodded, as he was overwhelmed with emotions. "Thank you mamá . I'll think about it again over the next few days." 

--

The drive back to his house was quiet. The continuous and constant low rumbling of the car's engine gave Carlos space to replay the earlier conversations he had with his mother. 

When he pulled into the driveway, the familiar warmth of home greeted him. He stepped inside, kicking off his sneakers, and glanced around. The house felt still, a quiet reflection of his own inner turmoil . 

Deciding to keep himself busy, Carlos headed to the bedroom to tackle the mess that had accumulated over the past few hectic weeks. Clothes were strewn across chairs, as well as the unmade bed. As he tidied up, his attention was drawn to the guest bedroom. 

Curious, he pushed the door open and immediately spotted a bag in the corner. It took him a moment to remember - it was Eli's. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he remembered that night Eli had stayed over as he went to the storage facility.  

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Guess we all forgot about this,” as he picked up the bag and placed it on one of the couches in the living room. 

As the late evening rolled in, Carlos busied himself in the kitchen, slicing vegetables at the kitchen counter when he heard the jingle of keys and the soft creak of the front door. T.K. stepped inside, his face slightly flushed from the cool evening air and the exertion of his shift. 

"Hey, babe,” T.K. replied, dropping his bag by the door and heading towards the kitchen. 

"Hey,” Carlos greeted with a warm smile on his face. The smell of sautéed garlic and onions filled the air, mingling with the simmering aroma of tomato sauce. He was preparing a hearty chicken chilindrón ( Pollo al Chilindrón ) , a classic dish that always reminded him of family dinners with his parents . He glanced over at T.K., who had just walked in. 

As T.K. poured himself a glass of water, Carlos leaned against the counter. "So, how was it? First shift back as a firefighter?" 

T.K. exhaled but smiled as he replied, "It felt great - it's like coming home, you know? Everyone was fantastic and the rhythm was still there. No major incidents, thankfully." 

Carlos nodded, slicing a few more vegetables as he continued. "And Eli? How did he fare on his first shift as a paramedic?" 

T.K.'s grin widened. "He was nervous at first , but once the calls started coming in, he was in his element. Nancy and Captain Vega were really impressed with him." 

Carlos smiled as he added bell peppers and diced onions into the pan, further enhancing the aroma in the kitchen. "That's good to hear. I always knew he had it in him." 

T.K. nodded, his voice softening. "There was this one call - a tough one. An elderly patient was having trouble breathing, and Eli just...took over. He kept everyone calm, handled the situation like a pro. It reminded me of you, babe , honestly." 

Carlos turned, a surprised but warm expression on his face. "Really?" 

"Yeah!" T.K. said, moving closer. "The way he stayed composed, the way he connected with the patient - it's the same way you are on the job . It's like he's channeling you." 

Carlos chuckled, his pride evident as he reached for the white wine to add into the pan. "Well, if Nancy and Captain Vega's impressed and you're saying that, I guess he's on the right track ." 

"He is, babe,” T.K. replied, a soft smile playing on his lips. "And I think he knows it." 

"Good. That's what matters - feeling like you belong where you are ." He gave T.K.'s arm a gentle squeeze before plating the dish, the vibrant sauce coating the tender chicken and vegetables. 

"Alright, take a seat. Let's eat,” Carlos said, flashing a warm grin. 

--

As the night deepened, the two found themselves unwinding in the quiet comfort of their home. Dinner was scrumptious and satisfying and the conversation drifted from their days to lighter topics. 

When they finally slipped into bed, T.K. turned to Carlos, his hand resting lightly on his fiancé's chest. 

"Babe, you okay?" T.K. asked softly, his eyes searching Carlos'. 

Carlos smiled, a warmth in his expression. "Yeah, I am." 

T.K. leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss against Carlos' lips. Carlos returned it, letting the moment linger. 

"Goodnight, babe,” T.K. whispered, his voice soft and soothing. 

"Sleep tight,” Carlos murmured, pulling T.K. closer as they settled into sleep. 

Carlos' mind refused to rest. Thoughts of his future swirled like a storm, relentless and chaotic. He closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath in the quiet darkness. 

As he drifted into sleep, his subconscious plunged him into a vivid dreamscape, pushing him towards two divergent visions of his future , both challenging in ways that tested the very core of who he was. 

Each detail felt so real, so intense, that it blurred the line between reality and dream. 

Future 1: Staying put in Austin Police Department (Carlos' POV)

I found myself back at the police department, briefing a team of fresh faced officers in the room. Their eyes mirrored a mix of respect and uncertainty, a fragile trust placed in me to lead them through what lies ahead. My voice was pretty steady, as I laid out the details of a possible domestic violence call that our team had to attend to. 

Outwardly, I was the picture of calm and collected authority , but deep inside, it was a whole different story . My father's death bore down on me -  a present reminder of the legacy I was still trying to live up to. Detective Washington's betrayal lingered like a bad taste, making me question every word I said, every order I gave. 

What if I can't lead them right? What if I fail them too? 

At the scene, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The house was quite small, its wall thin enough to feel the family's fear vibrating through them. The suspect - a tall man with erratic movements and a firearm gripped in his shaking hands paced in the living room. 

A woman and her child huddled together in a corner, their tear-streaked faces frozen in terror. I stepped forward, positioning myself as a barrier between the suspect and the family. "Sir, put the gun down. Let's talk this through. You don't want to do this." I said as I kept my voice steady despite the tensions. 

His eyes darted around the room, his breathing uneven, every movement unpredictable. I could feel the officers behind me shift nervously. 

One of the rookies - a young officer I had just briefed hours ago, moved slightly to my left. I glanced over my shoulder, catching the panic in his face. "Hold your position," I said firmly, my voice low enough to keep the suspect from hearing. 

But then, it happened . 

The sound of the gunshot was deafening, splitting through the room like a thunderclap. For a moment, everything slowed. The suspect staggered back, clutching his chest as his firearm clattered to the floor. The woman screamed, pulling her child closer. 

I turned around to the rookie, who stood frozen, his gun still raised, his face pale. "What the HELL did you just do?" I shouted angrily, instantly shattering my calm facade I had worn all day. 

"I... I had to", he stammered, his voice trembling. "My gut said he was going to shoot." 

His words hit me hard. My gut said . The justification echoed in my ears, blending with the woman's cries and the chaos unfolding around us. 

Back at the police department, the weight of the incident felt heavy, almost suffocating. The whispers started as soon as I walked through the doors. 

" Another mess under Reyes' team ," someone muttered, the words cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. 

Am I even fit for this job anymore? The question circled relentlessly in my mind, the doubt consuming me. For the first time, I wondered if staying in the APD was a mistake, not just for me, but for everyone who trusted me.  

I sat at my desk, the incident report glaring back at me. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, but instead of typing, I let my head fall into my hands.

The rookie, Officer Michaels , had been taken into custody for questioning. The victim had died en route to the hospital, and the charge was a potential manslaughter . I was not sure if it would stick, but intent and protocol would be at the center of the investigation.

"Reyes, detectives want you in Room 3 for your statement," the voice on the other end said.

"Be right there," I replied, my throat dry.

I sat across from two detectives, the cold air of the interrogation room making the tension even worse. The room was sterile, the table between us scratched and worn, and the overhead light buzzed faintly. 

"Walk us through it, Officer Reyes," he said, his tone neutral but his eyes sharp.

I recounted the events, keeping my voice steady, though my insides were in knots. "The suspect had taken the woman and her child hostage at gunpoint. I had positioned Officer Michaels slightly to my left to cover the angle in case the suspect moved towards the exit. I instructed him to hold his position while I continued negotiations."

"And then?"

"The suspect shifted his weight forward, his arm flexing slightly like he was adjusting his grip on the gun. It could have been an aggressive move or simply a twitch. Before I could confirm, Officer Michaels fired a shot." I exhaled slowly. 

"One shot to the chest. The suspect went down, and the woman and child were unharmed."

Detective Brooks nodded, jotting notes. "You mentioned telling Michaels to hold his position. Did he disobey your order?"

I hesitated. "Yes. He acted without my permission. But he believed the suspect was about to fire."

"Do you believe that, too?"

The question hit like a punch to the gut. I could not lie - not here, not under oath. But if I threw Officer Michaels under the bus, I knew what would happen to him. He was young, inexperienced, and terrified. He had not fired out of malice. It was fear.

"I can’t say for certain, Detective," I finally said. "But I believe he made a decision based on what he saw at the moment."

"Would you say it was the right decision?"

I clenched my jaw. "In hindsight, no. But in that room, in that second, he thought it was."

Just then, a knock on the interrogation room door startled me. I looked up, my mind still racing from everything that had unfolded. At first, the figure standing in the doorway was blurry , the details unclear , but as it stepped into the light, I froze.

It was my father.

Dressed in his Texas Rangers uniform, he looked every bit the imposing figure I remembered from my childhood. His hat rested under his arm, and his expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on me.

“Carlitos,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of both pride and expectation.

“Dad?” My voice cracked. I had not expected to see him, especially not here , and especially not in a situation like this .

Detective Brooks stood from his chair, nodding in acknowledgment. “Ranger Reyes,” he said with a formal tone of respect.

Gabriel extended a polite hand, but his eyes didn’t leave mine. “Detective, would you mind if I had a word with my son?”

Brooks hesitated for a moment, glancing at me before nodding. “Sure thing. I’ll give you some privacy.”

As Brooks left the room, the door clicked shut, and for a moment, the silence between my father and me was deafening. I suddenly had déjà vu , memories flashing of him interrogating me years ago in the same room .

He nodded, gesturing toward the door. “Come with me, son. There’s something I need to show you.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of the day pressing on my chest. “Dad, I’m still giving my statement to Detective Brooks. I can’t just leave - ”

Gabriel stepped forward, placing a hand gently on my shoulder. His touch was firm. “Carlitos,” he said quietly but firmly, “this is important. Trust me.”

All of a sudden, the scene around me began to shift...

Future 2: Becoming a Texas Ranger (Carlos's POV) 

The badge felt heavier than it should as I pinned it to my chest. The iconic star that once rested over my father's heart now sat over mine, a legacy that came with its own set of burdens. 

Standing in front of the mirror, I adjusted my pristine white shirt. The navy tie felt constricting around my neck, but it was the hat - a wide brimmed, cream colored Stetson - that truly transformed the image staring back at me. 

It felt strange, almost surreal to see myself this way. I adjusted the hat, its brim casting a shadow over my eyes. I had made the decision to join the Texas Rangers division, stepping into a role that had defined my father's life. It felt like a step forward, a way to honor his memory. But as I tightened my belt and adjusted my holster, I could not shake the question: Was this really my path, or was I just merely chasing a shadow? 

The day started with an introduction to my new partner, Ranger Campbell . His handshake was firm, his smile tight, and his eyes gave nothing away. From the outset, something about him didn't sit right with me. He carried an air of arrogance, his confidence bordering on reckless. 

Our first case together was a serial arsonist terrorizing rural communities, leaving families displaced and terrified. The devastation was unlike anything I had dealt with in the APD. 

Yes, we are talking about entire homes reduced to ash. The smell of smoke still lingering in the air when we arrived at the latest scene. 

Campbell moved through the wreckage with a swagger that grated on my nerves. He kicked through the charred debris, his boots scattering ash as he muttered theories under his breath. 

"This isn't random,” he finally said, crouching near what used to be a living room. "Our guy knows exactly what he's doing." 

I nodded, scanning the room for any sign of an accelerant or clue, but my focus kept drifting to Campbell. There was something in the way he talked, how he lingered near certain areas but offered no insights, that made my instincts twinge . 

"Anything specific you're seeing?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral. 

He stood, brushing soot off his pants. "Just a hunch." 

That wasn't good enough for me. Not when lives were on the line. 

The hours bled into days as the case dragged on. Every night, I would sit in the dim glow of my office, the sound of crickets outside the only reprieve from the utter silence. My phone buzzed with a text from T.K. : 

"Don't stay up too late. And no microwavable food , babe. Love you." 

I smiled faintly, picturing him in our bed, probably wearing one of my old shirts and scrolling through his phone. The thought brought warmth to my chest, but it also reminded me of what I was missing. 

By the time I got home, it was past midnight . T.K. was already fast asleep, curled up on his side of the bed. I leaned against the doorframe for a moment, watching him, wondering if this was what my father had felt all those years ago - being torn between the duty you swore to uphold and the life you wanted to live. 

Back in the field, Campbell's actions became harder to ignore. During a stakeout at a suspected hideout, I caught him slipping something into his pocket - a small flash drive he did not log as evidence. My stomach twisted. 

"Campbell, what's that?" I asked, my voice sharp. 

"Nothing you need to worry about, Reyes." He said, brushing past me. 

I grabbed his arm, "that's not how this works. We're supposed to be a team ." 

He jerked free, glaring at me. "You think you're the only one trying to solve this case? I've been doing this a lot longer than you, rookie ." 

The word stung, but I held my ground. "If you're hiding something, I will find out. Don't think for a second that I won't." 

His smirk was unsettling. "Good luck with that." 

I watched him walk away, the knot in my stomach tightening. Was this the kind of partnership my father had endured? Was this the reality of being a Ranger - balancing on the knife’s edge of trust and betrayal?  

I had fought hard to prove I could handle this job, to prove I am not just the son of Gabriel Reyes , but now I wondered if I had been chasing something that would destroy me from the inside out.

And in a way, it already had .

I was not home much anymore. The case had consumed me - late nights, missed calls , and long stretches of silence between T.K. and I. When I was home, I was not really there . My mind was trapped in interrogation rooms and evidence boards.

At first, T.K. tried to be patient . He understood the job better than most - being a Texas Ranger meant unpredictable calls and missed moments , too. But there was only so much distance love could bridge . The fights started small: over forgotten dinners , unanswered texts , the sound of the front door closing when I left before dawn without saying goodbye .

Then it escalated.

"Carlos, do you even care anymore?" T.K. asked one night, his voice cracking as he stood in the doorway of our bedroom. I was halfway out the door, keys in hand, my phone already buzzing with another call from Ranger Campbell

I turned to face him, exhaustion clouding my every word. "T.K., you know I care. But this case…"

"This case," he interrupted, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, " has taken over your life . You don’t see it, Carlos, but I do. You’re not the man I married anymore ."

"T.K., please," I replied. "I’m doing this for us . For our future ."

He shook his head, a tear slipping down his cheek. "We don’t have a future if you’re never here, man."

I wanted to promise him that I would fix it, that I would be better, but the words caught in my throat. I could not lie to him - not when I did not know if I could keep that promise.

The final argument happened on a cold, rainy night. I came home soaked, my boots leaving muddy tracks across the floor. T.K. was sitting on the couch, his arms crossed, his eyes red from crying.

"I can't do this anymore," he said, his voice hollow.

I froze, water dripping from my jacket. "What do you mean?"

He stood up, and the look in his eyes was something I would never forget. Defeat. Heartbreak. The love we had built crumbling in front of us.

"I filed the papers," he said softly. "We can’t keep pretending this is working . It’s killing both of us."

I felt like the air had been knocked out of my lungs. I staggered forward, shaking my head. "T.K., please, don’t do this. We can…"

"No, Carlos." His voice broke, but he held firm. "We’ve been fighting for something that doesn’t exist anymore . I love you, but I can’t be the only one trying to hold us together ."

The house was eerily silent except for the sound of rain tapping against the windows. I watched helplessly as T.K. grabbed his bag, heading for the front door. Panic flooded my chest, and before I could stop myself, I lunged forward, grabbing his arms as he opened the door.

"T.K., wait! Please," I begged, my voice cracking. "Don't go. Don’t do this. We can fix it - I swear, just give me one more chance."

"Goodbye, Carlos," he whispered, his voice soft but final. "We’re through."

Present Moment: Carlos & T.K.’s house, 03:30 A.M.

“NO!” Carlos yelled as he jolted upright in bed, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Beads of cold sweat clung to his forehead, and his hands trembled as they gripped the duvet. 

Beside him, T.K. stirred awake, instantly alert at the sight of Carlos' distressed state. "Babe?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. "Are you alright?" 

Carlos ran a hand through his damp hair, his gaze distant, as though still caught in the remnants of his dream. He did not respond immediately, his breathing uneven and erratic. 

T.K. sat up, placing a gentle hand on Carlos' back. "Hey babe, talk to me. What’s going on?." 

After a moment, Carlos exhaled shakily and turned to face his fiancé, his eyes were red, watery and filled with unease. His voice quivered as he began to speak. 

"It was a dream,” he said hoarsely. "But it felt so real , babe. I... I can't shake it." 

T.K.'s hand rubbed soothing circles on Carlos' back. "What kind of dream?" he asked softly, his tone encouraging. Carlos sat up, his head in his hands, struggling to piece the words together. 

"To be specific, it was two dreams", Carlos finally said.

"In one, I stayed with the APD. I was leading a team, but everything felt wrong. We were at a scene and the guy had a gun, and I was trying to keep him calm. The rookie - one of the officers I had just briefed - panicked and shot the suspect. I failed everyone. Back at the police station, all I could hear were whispers, people doubting me. And I... I was doubting myself too."

Carlos' hands clenched into fists. "Then, in the middle of all of it, my dad showed up - kind of a reminder that I wasn't where I should be." 

T.K. nodded, urging him to continue. 

"Which brings me to the next dream... I was a Texas Ranger", Carlos said. "I thought it would be better, that it would honor my dad's legacy. But even there, I was stuck. My partner was shady , the cases were heavy , and it felt like I was living his life instead of mine . No matter what I did, I kept feeling like I was failing, like I wasn't enough ." 

T.K. pulled Carlos into his arms, holding him tightly. "Babe, listen to me", he said softly. "Those dreams - they're not real. They're your fears talking. You don't have to decide right now who you're supposed to be. You're already enough, Carlos. You don't need to be anyone else, not for your dad, not for anyone." 

“There’s more to that dream, T.K. We were fighting - worse than we ever have. You told me you couldn’t do it anymore . You said you filed for divorce, that you were done trying to hold us together .” His voice cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I begged you not to leave, but you walked out the door. I tried to stop you, T.K. I grabbed your arms, I yelled - but you still left . You told me goodbye, and it felt so final, like I’d lost you forever .”

T.K. tightened his hold on Carlos, leaning his forehead against his temple. “Carlos, I’m right here,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Carlos. No job, no case, no amount of stress will ever change that . We’re going to get through everything - together. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever doubts you have, you don’t have to carry them alone.”

Carlos closed his eyes, his head resting against T.K.’s shoulder as he let the comfort sink in. The dream had felt like the end, but here in T.K.’s arms, he felt like he could breathe again.

“I love you,” Carlos whispered, his voice steadying.

T.K. smiled softly, pulling back just enough to meet Carlos’ gaze. “And I love you too. Tarlos forever .”

“ Tarlos forever.” Carlos let out a shaky breath, the warmth of T.K.'s reassurances easing the knot of tension in his chest. The dreams still lingered in his mind but in T.K.'s arms, he felt a glimmer of hope... 

-- End of Special Chapter --

Chapter Text

The firehouse buzzed with its usual early morning energy as I walked into the kitchen area, drawn by the unmistakable aroma of coffee brewing. Captain Strand stood by the counter, carefully pouring a fresh pot of coffee into his favorite mug. He glanced up and gave me a nod.

"Morning, Eli," he said, his voice calm. "Want a cup?"

I shook my head with a small smile. "No thanks, Cap. Coffee gives me gastric pain. I'll stick to something safer."

Owen raised an eyebrow. "Gastric pain? You're too young to be worrying about stuff like that."

I laughed softly, grabbing a packet of hot chocolate from the pantry. "Tell that to my weak stomach, Cap. It revolts the moment coffee even gets near it."

As I stirred the warm drink, enjoying the soothing scent of cocoa, I noticed T.K. shuffling into the kitchen. His usual confident stride was replaced by sluggish movements and he looked like he had not slept well. His hair was slightly messy and dark shadows framed his tired eyes.

"Morning, son," Owen greeted, his tone laced with concern. "You look... rough."

"Yeah, I've seen better days, Dad." T.K. muttered, grabbing a glass of water instead of his usual coffee.

"Something on your mind?" I asked, leaning against the counter.

T.K. sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "It's Carlos. He had this intense dream last night - more like a nightmare. He saw two futures , and both of them felt so real. He woke up completely shaken."

Owen set his coffee down, his attention fully on his son. "What kind of futures?"

"One where he stays with the Austin Police Department , and another where joins the Texas Rangers ," T.K. explained, his voice tinged with worry. "He's torn between the both of them and I've never seen him this conflicted. I tried to comfort him but I don't know what else to do. He's under so much pressure."

Owen exchanged a quick glance with me before stepping closer to T.K. “You did the right thing by being there for him, T.K. Sometimes, that's all you can do."

T.K. nodded, but the tension in his body did not ease. It was clear he was carrying the weight of Carlos' struggles with him. I took a sip of my hot chocolate, an idea brewing in my mind.

"What if we do something completely different to take Carlos' mind off things?" Both T.K. and Owen turned to me, curiosity flickering in their eyes.

"Like what?" T.K. asked.

"Have you guys heard of Candlelight concerts?" I began, setting my mug down. "They are live music performances in intimate settings , and the whole place is lit by candles . They've got a smooth jazz one happening this weekend in St. David's Episcopal . It could be a great way to help Carlos relax and take his mind off work."

T.K.'s brows furrowed, clearly intrigued but slightly skeptical. "Wait, hold on. Are these like real candles? Because the last thing I want is to be a firefighter at a candlelight concert ."

Owen chuckled, shaking his head. "You really think they'd risk an actual fire hazard with all those candles in an enclosed space? Come on, son, give them some credit."

I laughed, sipping my hot chocolate. "Yeah, T.K., your dad’s right. They're all flameless LED candles . Totally safe, and they give off the same vibe without the risk of setting the place on fire."

"Smooth jazz, huh?" Owen said, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms. "You know, I used to listen to a lot of that when I was recovering from a medical procedure a few years back . It really helped me stay grounded. Something about the rhythm... it kind of steadies your soul."

T.K. glanced at his dad, slightly surprised. "You? Smooth jazz? I thought you were more of a rock and roll kind of guy."

"I am," Owen admitted with a chuckle. "But there's a time and place for everything. When I was stuck at home, trying to find a way to cope with everything going on, smooth jazz became my escape. I'd sit in the living room, close my eyes and let the music take me somewhere else."

"That's exactly what I'm hoping for Carlos," I said, my voice filled with encouragement. "Something to take him somewhere else for a while. Somewhere that's not APD or the Rangers."

Owen nodded approvingly. "I think it's a great idea, Eli. Honestly, it might do me some good too. Maybe I'll tag along, if you guys don't mind."

T.K. snorted. "Smooth jazz and candles with my dad? That's going to be a story for the ages."

"Watch it, son," Owen teased, giving him a playful nudge.

T.K. sighed, some of the worry lifting from his face. "Alright, I'll talk to Carlos about it. Thanks for the suggestion, Eli."

--

At the dispatch center, a call suddenly came through with an air of urgency.

[9-1-1 call recording officially begins]

Dispatcher: "9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

Caller: "This is Andy. I - I need help! I'm at a farm just outside Austin. My coworker... He's bleeding bad, real bad!"

Dispatcher: "Okay, sir, I need you to stay calm. Can you tell me your location?"

Caller: "We're on a farm, uh... Just outside Austin, off Route 243, near Hargrove Lane."

Dispatcher: "Got it. And what happened to your friend?"

Caller: "He - he got hurt in the barn. The baler machine... it - it cut him deep! He's losing a lot of blood!"

Dispatcher: "Is he conscious?"

Caller: "Barely! He's drifting in and out! I - I had to do something!"

Dispatcher: "Sir, what do you mean by 'do something'? "

Caller: "I'm... I'm giving him blood! From one of our sheeps in the farm."

Dispatcher: "I'm sorry, did you just say you're giving him blood from a sheep?"

Caller: "Yes! I read somewhere that sheeps have universal blood types or something. I couldn't just watch him bleed out!"

Dispatcher: "Sir, I need you to stop what you're doing. Animal blood is not safe for humans and can cause severe reactions. Help is on the way."

Caller: "But he's getting so pale - I don't know what else to do!"

Dispatcher: "Just keep pressure on the wound to slow the bleeding. Stay on the line with me if you can, help will be there soon."

The dispatcher switched radio channels, relaying the details of the call. "This is Austin Dispatch to 126. We have a medical emergency at a rural farm near Route 243, Hargrove Lane. Male victim, severe haemorrhaging from an accident involving farm machinery. Caller has reportedly attempted an unorthodox blood transfusion using animal blood . Time is critical."

At the firehouse, the sirens blared to life, echoing through the bay. Captain Strand immediately called out to his team. "126! We've got a farm emergency. T.K., Judd, Mateo, Marjan, Paul - you're with me on the ladder truck. Nancy, Eli - you'll be in the ambulance with Captain Vega. Let's move, people!"

I glanced at T.K. as the adrenaline kicked in. He gave me a reassuring nod, his earlier exhaustion replaced with focus. Together, we rushed to our respective vehicles.

Nancy and I jumped into the ambulance as Captain Vega slid into the driver's seat. She glanced back at us. "All right, team, this one's going to be... unique . Stay sharp and let's be ready for anything."

The ambulance roared to life, sirens wailing as we pulled out of the station, closely following the ladder truck. My mind raced with the details of the call. A blood transfusion from a sheep? I could not help but think about all the complications that could arise - rejection, infection or worse.

As the farm came into view, the sight of the sprawling fields and the barn in the distance added a surreal edge to the situation. The ladder truck arrived first, followed by the ambulance. The 126 team quickly disembarked and assessed the area.

Captain Strand stepped closer to the victim, his sharp eyes assessing the horrifying scene. The hat baler's metal prong jutted out of the victim's lower abdomen, surrounded by pools of blood that stained the barn floor. He turned to the team, his expression grim but focused.

"Alright, listen up! This is going to take precision and teamwork," he began.

"Paul, Mateo, secure the hay baler. We need to stabilize it so it doesn't move and cause more damage. Use the straps to anchor it in place. Judd, Marjan, we're going to need the Sawzall. But we're not cutting the prong yet - just the surrounding to make it smaller and easier to transport without jarring it."

Marjan nodded, already heading to grab the tool. "Got it, Cap." T.K. stepped forward. "What about extraction? How are we moving him without causing a bleed out?"

Captain Strand pointed to the stretcher near the ambulance. "We'll roll the stretcher as close as possible, but we can't lay him flat. That'll shift the prong. We will stabilize him in place using braces to keep him immobile. Nancy and Eli will monitor his vitals and keep him stable while we work. This is a time sensitive situation, but we're not rushing. Got it?"

Everyone responded together: "Got it, Cap!"

While Judd, Marjan and T.K. focused on dismantling the machine without jarring the prong lodged in the victim's abdomen, Paul and Mateo worked on stabilizing the baler itself. Heavy duty straps anchored it to the barn floor.

"Hold it steady, Mateo!" Paul called out, tightening one of the straps as the baler groaned under the strain.

"I'm trying, but this thing's heavier than it looks!" Mateo grunted, sweat dripping down his temple. Captain Strand, his voice commanding and steady, kept the team synchronized.

"Marjan, Judd - don't rush it. Small, clean cuts. We can't risk jarring that prong. T.K., monitor his position, make sure we're not moving him at all."

Judd and Marjan fired up the Sawzall, carefully removing parts of the metal around the prong without disturbing it. Sparks flew as the metal screeched under the blade, the sound sending shivers down my spine.

In the meantime, Captain Vega stayed by my side as we worked to keep the victim's vitals stable. The IV tube was still connected to the victim's arm to a sheep. The animal stood tied nearby, bleating softly, its blood visibly dropping through the line.

"Eli, disconnect that IV now . Animal blood in a human system is a ticking time bomb. Nancy, get the trauma kit ready. We need to stabilize this man immediately."

Nancy handed me a pair of sterile gloves and a clamp. Carefully, I clamped off the IV line from the sheep to prevent any more foreign material from entering the victim's system. I then disconnected the tubing and quickly set up a proper saline IV to maintain his blood pressure. "IV switched. Starting a bolus of normal saline," I called out.

Captain Vega crouched next to me, her sharp eyes scanning the victim. "Eli, what's his BP?"

I glanced at the monitor. "Dropping fast, Ma'am - oops sorry, Cap . 70 over 40 and falling . We're losing him."

"Let's stabilize him as best as we can until we're in transport to the hospital. Apply direct pressure to the wound to slow the bleeding." Captain Vega's mind worked quickly.

I grabbed a thick gauze pad and pressed it firmly against the wound where the hay baler's prong had pierced through. Blood oozed out despite my efforts, staining my gloves and the gauze. I kept my focus steady, knowing any hesitation could cost the man his life.

Judd and Marjan coordinated the removal of the baler parts, carefully avoiding any jostling of the embedded prong.

"Keep him steady!" Captain Strand called out. "We're almost there."

The moment the victim was freed from the machinery, the team lifted him onto the stretcher with utmost care. "On my count - one, two, three, lift!"

As soon as he was secured on the stretcher, Nancy and I sprung into action. The man's breathing was shallow, his pulse faint.

"Respiratory rate dropping!" I announced, my voice rising with urgency.

"Eli, he's crashing. We need an airway," Captain Vega said firmly, handing me the intubation kit.

This was it - my first intubation in the field . My hands shook for a fraction of a second before I forced myself to focus. I tilted the man's head back slightly, opened his airway, and inserted the laryngoscope to visualize his vocal chords. The faint rise and fall of his chest was barely visible now.

"Tube’s ready," I muttered, sliding the endotracheal tube into position through the vocal cords. Once it was in place, I removed the laryngoscope and inflated the cuff to secure the tube.

"Tube in. Confirming placement," I said, connecting the tube to the bag valve. I squeezed the bag, watching for chest rise. Relief flooded through when I saw it. "We've got ventilation!"

As we loaded the victim into the ambulance, Captain Strand looked at us, his expression a mix of pride and urgency. "You've got this. Get him to the hospital in one piece. We'll be right behind you."

"Copy that, Cap," Captain Vega said as she climbed into the driver's seat.

As the ambulance sped down the rural road toward Austin General, Captain Vega glanced back at us through the rearview mirror. Her eyes were sharp with a mix of urgency and determination.

"Nancy, make sure the hospital knows that we have a severe hemorrhage case inbound and the transfusion attempt earlier. He'll need immediate surgery and a blood transfusion. ”  

Nancy's eyes widened briefly but she nodded, picking up the radio and relayed the information to the trauma center.

"West Park, this is 126 EMS en route with a male, mid-40s, suffering from severe blood loss due to a hay baler impalement. Victim is intubated with a stable airway but hypotensive despite fluid resuscitation. Be advised, the victim received an unorthodox transfusion - a direct IV connection to a sheep. There's a high risk of hemolysis, infection or other complications . He'll need immediate surgery and evaluation for any adverse effects from the transfusion."

A brief pause crackled over the line before the hospital dispatcher's voice came through. "Understood, 126 EMS. We'll alert the trauma team and ensure blood matching and infectious disease protocols are on standby."

Nancy exhaled as she looked at me and muttered under her breath, "Sheep blood... that's definitely going in the books as the weirdest thing I've seen ."

Despite the tension, I managed a faint smile, though my hands were busy securing the victim's IV line and ensuring the monitors stayed connected.

"Yeah," I replied, glancing at her briefly, "and here I thought today couldn't get more surreal."

Soon, the ambulance screeched to a halt outside West Park Memorial's emergency bay, the back doors swinging open as hospital staff rushed forwards to attend to the victim. As the man was wheeled away towards the trauma center, the rest of the 126 began to gather outside the ambulance bay, catching their breath after the intense call.

Just as I was beginning to unwind, I saw T.K. storming towards the caller - the farmer who had attempted the transfusion.

"WHAT THE HELL were you thinking?" T.K. asked, in frustration and disbelief. "Sheep blood? Did you even think about what you were doing? You could've killed him before we even got there!"

The farmer, a wiry man who looked like he had not slept in days, shrank under T.K.'s intensity but tried to defend himself. 

"I didn't know what else to do! He was bleeding out, and we didn't have the right supplies. I - I saw something like this on a survival show once..."

T.K. threw his hands up, pacing in agitation. "A survival show ? This isn't reality TV! This is a man's life! You could've caused a massive infection, a hemolytic reaction - do you even know what that means?"

The farmer stammered, "I - I just... I thought it might work. I was desperate!"

Captain Strand stepped in, placing a firm hand on T.K.'s shoulder to ground him. "T.K., enough. He's scared, and he probably did it on impulse. Let's focus on what matters - the victim's life."

T.K. exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he stepped back, still visibly shaken. "Fine," he said, his tone still laced with frustration.

I walked over and stood beside T.K., placing a hand on his arm. "You're right to be upset, but he's just someone who panicked. People do crazy things when they're desperate."

T.K. sighed, looking at me. "I know, Eli. It's just... I've never seen anything like this . It's infuriating to think how reckless people can be."

Before we could continue, Captain Vega joined us, her voice calm but firm. "Let's leave it for now. The hospital will handle the aftermath. Our job was to get him here alive, and we did that." T.K. nodded reluctantly, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly.

--

As evening fell, the firehouse settled into a quieter rhythm. The adrenaline from the day's chaos started to dissipate, replaced by the comfort of routine and the gentle hum of the fluorescent lights above.

T.K. slumped onto the couch in the firehouse lounge, still catching his breath after the intense day. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he saw Carlos's name on the screen. With a smile, he unlocked it and started typing.

Text between Tarlos :

Carlos : Hey babe❤️

T.K .: Hey. How's your day been?

Carlos : Slow. I ran some errands, did laundry and made some enchiladas. Guess who didn't burn the edges this time?

T.K. : You?👨🏻‍🍳

Carlos : I'm learning. Slowly but surely. How about you, how's your shift so far?

T.K. : Oh, you know, just another day in firefighter land. You wouldn't believe the call we had today. Involved a sheep... and blood transfusions 😵🤬

Carlos : WHAT? Please tell me you're joking😱

T.K. : Dead serious. Eli and I will tell you all about it when we're home. Speaking of which, Eli suggested we all go to a candlelight concert this weekend

Carlos : Candlelight concert? Sounds classy. What's the genre?

T.K .: Smooth jazz. I think it might be nice, something relaxing, you know? Clear your mind a bit..🤔

Carlos : You think I need that, huh?

T.K .: I know you do. You've had a lot on your plate, babe. It's just a suggestion. If you don't want to, no pressure

Carlos : ...Actually, that sounds good. Might even convince you to wear a suit🤵🏻

T.K .: Fine, but only if you promise not to outshine me🙄

Carlos : Can't promise that.

T.K. : I'll let you win this one. Got to go now, I miss you🥹

Carlos : I miss you too. Stay safe, okay? Love you and we can continue the candlelight discussion later😘

T.K .: Always. See you later, babe. ❤️🥰

--

T.K. chuckled softly, setting his phone down just as Captain Strand's voice rang through the station.

"Alright, 126!" Owen called from the bay, his voice carrying over the hum of the evening activities. The team began to gather, some still wiping down equipment while others grabbed a water bottle for the last stretch of the shift.

I joined the group, standing next to T.K., who shot me a small grin. Captain Vega was already there as she and Captain Strand exchanged a few words before stepping forward.

"I know today wasn't exactly a normal day," Captain Strand began, his gaze sweeping over the team. "From the morning briefing to the... let's call it 'creative' solutions we witnessed on that farm call, you all brought your A-game ."

Captain Vega chimed in, "We had a lot thrown at us today - unique and bizarre first encounters . But each one of you stepped up. That's what being part of the 126 means: teamwork, resilience and keeping a level head, no matter how chaotic things get. Well done Nancy, Eli, and everyone!"

Captain Strand nodded. "Exactly. Judd, Marjan, Paul, Mateo - you handled that extraction with precision . And T.K.", he said, glancing at his son with pride, "you showed real leadership out there, keeping everyone focused when things got - I would say, 'sheepy' . Nancy, your quick thinking and calm attitude under pressure were critical today, you handled a tough situation with professionalism and heart. The way you guided Eli during his second big call didn't go unnoticed either."

Nancy smiled. "Thank you, Cap. And Eli," she added, turning to me, "you made my job a lot easier today. You're going to be just fine here."

I grinned back at her. "I had a great mentor , a true leader."

The team broke into a round of applause, and Mateo muttered about Nancy getting all the praise and recognition while he was stuck securing the hay baler and having to witness gory scenes , earning him a playful swat from Marjan and Paul.

"Alright, now that we've sufficiently embarrassed Nancy," Owen said with a chuckle, "let's wrap this up. Rest up, everyone. We'll do it all again tomorrow."

As we began to disperse, Nancy nudged me gently. "You owe me hot chocolate for that shout out", she teased.

"Deal," I replied, laughing.

--

After the shift ended and Captain Strand wrapped up the debrief, T.K. turned to his dad and me with an idea. "You know what? Why don't you both come over to Carlos' and my place tonight? We've got enough food, and it'll be nice to just unwind after... Well, the sheep incident and we have to finalize our Candlelight concert discussion!"

Owen chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure Carlos is ready for two more mouths to feed? It's not every day he gets to host the entire 126 - well, half of it, at least."

T.K. waved it off. "Carlos can handle it. And trust me, he likes you guys more than Mateo."

I smirked. "Low bar, but I'm in."

When we arrived at their house, the inviting scent of homemade enchiladas greeted us, mingling with the subtle melody of soft jazz playing from a speaker in the corner.

Carlos was at the dining table, carefully plating the food like a professional chef. As we walked in, he turned to greet us with his signature warm smile. "Hey, welcome! Dinner's just about ready."

T.K. walked straight to Carlos and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Smells amazing, babe."

"Hey, Carlos," I called out as I put my bag near the door.

"Hey, Eli. Oh, by the way," Carlos said, pointing towards the guest room. "Your bag from last time - it's right over there. Figured you might want it back."

I folded my arms and grinned. "You mean you didn't hang it on the wall as a shrine to my brief residency here? Missed opportunity."

Carlos laughed as he wiped his hands on a towel. "Trust me, I considered it. Figured it might clash with the decor."

Owen chuckled at our banter as I grabbed the bag, dusting it off dramatically. "Glad to see it's still in one piece," I joked. "I'll treasure it forever."

We settled in at the table, the food as delicious as it smelled. Carlos proudly explained the dish - a family recipe with a few personal touches. The flavors were incredible and it did not take long for the conversation to turn into a recap of the day's most "sheepiest" (shittiest) moment.

"So let me get this straight," Carlos said, his fork frozen mid air. "A guy thought it was a good idea to hook up a sheep to his coworker for a blood transfusion?"

T.K. nodded, barely containing his laughter. "You heard it right and you wouldn't believe what Eli had to do today. Poor Eli had to intubate someone on only his second ever shift ."

Carlos' eyes widened as he turned to me. "Seriously? That's a huge deal. How'd it go?"

Before I could respond, T.K. answered for me. "He nailed it. I mean, you should've seen him - steady hands, focused. Honestly, it looked like he'd been doing it for years ."

I felt my cheeks heat up, waving him off. "Okay, okay enough, T.K.. You're just saying that because I didn't faint or drop the laryngoscope."

Owen leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Actually, Eli, I have to agree with T.K.. I've seen seasoned medics lose their cool in situations like that. The fact that you kept it together, despite still recovering from your own mental health condition and with the whole team watching, says a lot."

T.K. nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. And you didn't just intubate; you did it while we were all running on fumes after hauling someone out of a hay baler. If it's not impressive, I don't know what it is."

I could not help but laugh, a mix of gratitude and disbelief bubbling up. "Thanks, guys. Honestly, I was terrified. The whole time, I kept thinking, 'Don't mess this up. This guy's life depends on it.'"

"That's what makes it impressive," Carlos chimed in, his voice warm. "You felt the pressure, but you still got the job done. Not everyone can say that."

Owen raised his glass of water. "To Eli, the intubation master of the 126 ."

T.K. snorted, shaking his head. "Let's not go that far, Dad. He called Captain Vega ' Ma'am ’ earlier, like he's still in the military."

We all burst out laughing, and I rolled my eyes. "Old habits die hard, okay? Give me a break."

--

Eventually, as the plates were cleared and the mood became more relaxed, T.K. brought up the candlelight concert. "So, about the smooth jazz concert Eli mentioned earlier..." He turned to Carlos. "You in, babe?"

Carlos looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I think it sounds great. Smooth jazz, candles - it sounds like the perfect way to unwind."

"Well, it's settled then," I declared, clapping my hands together. "I'll grab the tickets. And don't worry," I added with a smirk, looking at T.K., "I'll make sure you and Carlos get prime seats for maximum romance . Owen and I will hold down the fort a few rows back."

"Unbelievable," T.K. muttered, shaking his head as he smacked my arm again.

The candlelight concert was going to be something special - if not for the music, then for the company.

--

Chapter Text

The week had flown by in a whirlwind of calls. Before we knew it, Friday evening had arrived. The last call of the shift had been a straightforward one, leaving everyone relieved and ready for the weekend. As the firetruck pulled into the bay, the enticing aroma of roasted garlic, herbs and something distinctly mouthwatering filled the air. T.K. was the first to notice. "Wait, is that...food?" he asked, sniffing the air as he hopped off the truck. 

We all followed the scent to the lounge, where Carlos stood, dressed casually in a snug t-shirt and jeans, confidently plating dishes on the lounge table. His expression was relaxed, but his eyes lit up when he saw us.

"Officer Reyes?" Owen asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?" 

Carlos smiled, wiping his hands on his apron. "I figured you all could use a proper meal after a long week. I'm still on time off and don't head back until Monday, so I had some free time. Why not spend it here helping out?" 

We exchanged guilty looks before T.K. stepped forward, shaking his head. "You didn't have to do this, babe." 

"Seriously," Marjan chimed in, "we all feel bad now." 

Carlos waved us off with a laugh. "Stop it. You guys save lives every day; the least I can do is make sure y'all are well fed ." 

Owen clasped a hand on Carlos' shoulder, visibly touched. "Thank you, Carlos. You really didn't have to, but we're incredibly grateful." 

"Absolutely," I added, nodding. "Thank you so much." 

A chorus of heartfelt gratitude followed as Carlos gestured for us to sit. "Go clean up everyone, grab a seat and dig in after the debrief," he instructed. "Everything's ready." 

The smell of the food made it hard to focus during the final debrief of the week, delivered by Owen and Tommy in the kitchen. Once they wrapped up, everyone eagerly gathered around the lounge table. The spread was nothing short of spectacular: roasted chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, sautéed vegetables and a dessert tray featuring chocolate mousse and berry tarts.  As we began to eat, Owen leaned back in his chair and looked at me with a curious smile. "So, Eli," he said, his tone fatherly and warm, "why don’t you share with the team how your first week as a paramedic has been? Settling in alright?"

I set my fork down, glancing around the table at the familiar faces of the 126. "Honestly? It's been great. I've learned so much already, and everyone's been super supportive."

"Glad to hear it," Tommy said, raising her glass in a mock toast.

"But," I added with a laugh, "if I'm being completely honest, I still struggle to put on this goddamn uniform . Especially the boots ." That caught everyone's attention, and a few chuckles rippled around the table.

"What happened with the boots?" Nancy asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I sighed dramatically, setting the scene. "The first time I put them on, it was a disaster. I was in the locker room, tugging and pulling like my life depended on it. Finally, I got one boot on... and boom! Instant leg cramp." The room erupted into laughter.

"Massive cramp," I emphasized, gesturing for effect. "I was hobbling around the locker room like an old man , dragging my leg because I couldn't straighten it. I think I scared a guy from Shift B who walked in. Poor dude looked like he thought I needed medical attention myself!"

Everyone was laughing, even Owen, who shook his head, chuckling.

Judd leaned forward, grinning. "Ya know, Eli, they make tools for rookies like ya. It's called a boot jack . Maybe we'll put it on the equipment list for the ambulance."

"Or a YouTube tutorial," Mateo added with a grin. " How to Boot Up 101 ."

"Hey, don't laugh," I retorted, trying to keep a straight face. "These things are a hazard. I could've been taken out by my own footwear before my first shift!"

T.K. was doubled over, tears in his eyes as he laughed. "You're killing me, Eli. How have you survived this long?"

"Barely," I shot back, raising my glass of water as if making a toast.

Owen clapped me on the back, still chuckling. "Well, kid, if a pair of boots is your biggest challenge so far, I'd say you're doing just fine."

As the laughter died down, the conversation naturally shifted to lighter topics. "Alright, so now that we've survived another week," Owen said, pushing his plate aside and looking around the table, "what's everyone's plans for the weekend?" 

Paul was the first one to reply, raising a hand as if he were in class. "I'm hanging out with Mateo, Marjan and Nancy tomorrow. We figured we'd catch up and maybe grab dinner somewhere." 

"Or go to the pub," Mateo replied, chuckling mischievously. 

Captain Vega, who had been quiet until now, shook her head. "Pub's off the table if I'm coming. I'm hoping to bring my kids along, so it's going to be more like ice cream and movies instead of beer and pool." 

Mateo groaned in despair. "Kids? No offense, Cap, but I was hoping for a little more adult fun ." 

Captain Vega raised an eyebrow at him. "You'll survive, Mateo. Besides, my kids adore you. Think of it as building your fan base ." 

Everyone laughed, and Mateo pretended to be flattered, puffing out his chest. "Well, in that case, I'll bring my autograph book."

"What about you, Judd? Keen to join us?" Nancy queried. 

Judd shrugged, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Grace and I have a date night planned. Probably just a quiet dinner at home, though. It's been a while since we've had some time for just the two of us." 

"Aww," Marjan replied, resting her chin on her hand. "That's sweet, Juddy."

When all eyes turned to me, I hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Actually, I've got plans too," I said, glancing at T.K., Owen. "I'm heading to a Candlelight concert with these two and Carlos."  That got some surprised reactions. 

"A candlelight concert?" Paul asked, his curiosity piqued. 

"Yeah," I replied, smiling. "It's a smooth jazz performance. Thought it'd be a good way to unwind after the week." 

"You're full of surprises, Eli," Mateo teased. "Never pegged you for a jazz guy." 

"Hey, I'm versatile ." I shot back, earning another round of chuckles. Tommy smirked, playfully shooting Carlos a look, "Just so you know, my kids are probably going to be heartbroken that neither Uncle Judd or Uncle Carlos will be there with us tomorrow. They've been talking about you two all week."