Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Caleb

Running on empty. Never had the phrase been truer than when we pulled back into the station after a late-night call for a fire at an apartment complex on the edge of Mount Hope. It was my first overnight shift in some time, and not only was I worried about Scotty and out of practice with being alert in the middle of the night, but I was also exhausted from a hell of a call.

Knowing Tony was waiting at the station was another layer of weirdness, one I couldn't let myself dwell on. In the days since our sneaky school hookup, we'd managed some covert texting and a few down-low conversations while trying to act normal at work. But this flutter of anticipation amid my bone-tiredness was new and not entirely welcome.

Luckily, I didn't see Tony as I stepped off the rig. Another few moments to collect myself.

"God, that was a doozy." As we unloaded our gear, I wiped my face with a rag. I needed a shower, but I was wired-and-tired and didn't want to slow down, didn't want to accidentally give myself the space to think. Easier to push my physical needs aside.

"You're telling me." Sean stretched, rolling his shoulders front to back. It had been a tough night to be acting captain. He'd done an admirable job but had to be even more exhausted than I was. "I'm going to follow up with the Red Cross about what the families will need."

"Good. Keep the rest of us posted." As with many house fires, the local Red Cross had shown up to provide aid and temporary shelter to the displaced families, and I wasn't surprised that Sean was concerned enough to follow up on their efforts.

"I'll get started on this cleanup." Tony appeared behind Sean, near the dusty rig in the engine bay. "And inventory the equipment and supplies. Sounds like you used up a bunch of stuff tonight."

"Yep." Sean rubbed the back of his neck. "And yeah, get on that because we need to be ready if another call comes in."

"I'll help." I volunteered quickly as everyone else hightailed it for the showers and bed.

"Sure thing." Sean nodded, apparently too weary to be suspicious of my motives. Good thing because I also wasn't entirely sure what I was doing.

Tony's eyes narrowed as Sean walked away. "I've got the hang of my job now."

"I know." I pitched my voice lower and soothing, glancing around to make sure we were alone. "But I need something to do."

"You need sleep," he scolded as he started going through the medical kits and other equipment, looking for missing or broken items. His manner was way more fond than I'd seen from him, like he actually cared about whether I was rested.

"And so do you." I returned the favor with a pointed look as I joined him in the equipment inventory. "You get any sleep while we were on the call?"

"Nah. Sleep and I don't get along that often." He pursed his lips before retrieving a stack of gauze pads to replenish the stock in one of the kits. "And fuck dreaming."

"You know…" I started, then decided against disrupting our easy peace.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was just going to say that there's help out there for PTSD symptoms like nightmares, but you know that already."

"Do I?" Tony made a frustrated noise as he moved on to the next kit, removing some empty wrappers for antiseptic wipes. "While I was on active duty, we were strongly encouraged to not report anything that might have even a whiff of PTSD or struggling mental health. At the time, desk duty or not being declared fit for a mission seemed like the worst fate, so I learned to keep my mouth shut."

"That sucks." I stepped closer, risking putting a hand on his shoulder. "And I get it. Here, we talk more about the hard calls, but there's still a line I know not to cross with most of the crew. Keep it topical, don't be too emotional, store sentimentality for later, be a professional." I rattled off a summary of the advice I'd heard over and over, from my dad to his friends to the fire academy to Sean. While we all supported each other on the crew, there was an unspoken agreement to not dwell on the bad things.

"Exactly." Tony turned to peer closely into my eyes. "And sometimes it's harder to let a particular mission or call go. Like tonight?"

"Yeah." I exhaled, shoulders relaxing and knots in my gut loosening. "Apartment complex fires are always hard because they can spread fast and be highly unpredictable. Plus, there's all the people for us to manage, like victims, residents, and bystanders, along with the scope of the blaze. And this particular complex had a lot of non-English speakers. We sent for Russian and Spanish translators, but time was also a factor in needing to get everyone out."

"That sounds tough. I've been there with a language barrier." Mimicking my earlier gesture, Tony squeezed my shoulder, but where I'd quickly dropped my hand, he started a light massage. "Do you know what caused the fire?"

"Likely faulty A/C wiring made worse by an extra-dry July." I leaned into his touch.

"But everyone made it out?" he asked with the gravity of someone who knew loss all too well.

"Yeah." I could have left it at that, but having someone to talk to about the hard parts was a rare gift. I paused, trying to figure out how to explain the thing that haunted me the last few hours. "You ever scare someone? Like a kid being frightened of the uniform, I mean?"

"Oh." Tony's eyes widened with understanding. "Yeah. Part of the job, but I hate it."

"Me too. We had to go from apartment to apartment to get folks to evacuate. There were two kids home alone, maybe twelve and nine. We needed to get them out right that minute. No time to waste as they were closest to the spread of the fire. But the kids were terrified of us." I swallowed hard, hating every bit of this memory. "Not only the fire. Us too. Our turnout gear, all of it. The younger one wouldn't let me come near him, and I finally had to just grab him and go when Sean ordered me to pick him up."

"Been there." Tony tightened his grip on my shoulder, his own voice going rough. "The moment you realize you're the reason they're screaming…" Trailing off, he looked away for several long seconds. "Yeah, it sucks. No easy way about it."

"Usually, I'm pretty good with people." I wasn't sure what I was justifying, only that the incident had left a deep bruise on my soul. "Kids. Cats. Dogs. Whatever needs rescuing. But seeing those kids so scared of us really messed with my head."

"Trying being the one holding a weapon." Tony's voice was dry as kindling wood.

"Fuck." I drew the word out. My gear might be frightening, but Tony's job was a whole different level of scary and deadly. "Yeah, that would be hard."

I was undoubtedly underplaying it, and Tony merely nodded, eyes keeping a faraway look.

"If you ever want someone to talk to about stuff that happened out there, I'm not some active-duty psych. I won't judge, and I won't repeat it."

"Thanks." Tony returned to counting items in the med kit, going silent for so long that I assumed the topic was dropped, but then he looked up. "I think the worst thing is feeling like emotions are dangerous."

"Yes, that's totally it." I came up behind him, needing the contact as much as this conversation. "Like you need to push down the rough days, minimize the hurt and toll they take."

"And everyone acts like strength is not letting any of it get to you." He leaned back against me, and I wrapped my arms around him. Dangerous territory but need outweighed risk.

"From where I stand, you're pretty damn strong." I squeezed him tightly. "And you'd be even stronger if you talked to someone about the stress symptoms. Me. Someone. Keeping it bottled up isn't healthy." I breathed in his scent, absorbing as much of his nearness as possible. "Talking to you helped me tonight."

"Me too." Tony tipped his head back, making my lips graze his earlobe. "I'm sorry it was hard, but honestly, it helps a little to know others have had that issue with scaring the people they're trying to help."

"I have to believe intentions matter." I met his gaze, trying to will him to be gentler with himself and to keep talking to me.

However, right as I was about to pull him down for a kiss, I heard feet on the metal stairs. I leaped away from Tony, and we launched ourselves at the med kits. Inventory. Nothing to see here.

Except everything. And it wasn't the kisses and near-kisses with Tony that were the real threat. No, the greatest threats were these conversations, our growing connection, and the risk to my heart.

Even knowing that, I still looked for him hours later as our shift ended.

"Hey." I jogged to catch up with Tony on his walk to the parking lot. "Headed out?"

"Yep." He gave me a hard-to-read look. He'd been a bit stiff since our near discovery, understandably so. "Maybe I'll actually catch some sleep."

"If you're interested in postponing that sleep, Scotty texted me a few minutes ago that he was leaving early to work with John and Cosmo on the landscaping business before the day gets too hot." I lowered my voice further. "I'll have the house to myself."

"Is that so?" He matched my low tone. From the outside, we were simply two coworkers catching up at the end of a shift.

"Interested in stopping by?" I kept my body language loose and casual even as I shot him a heated look.

"I'll be there."