And at long last, just over a year after I first wrote the Season 2 premiere for this book (and chapter fifty, holy crap), here's the Season 2 finale of 9-1-1: Lone Star! The 126 gets their placements, Matt gets to make a pep talk, Kelly realizes what Capp meant when he said 51 was normal, Mateo earns the rank of firefighter, Maddie gets her happy ending, Sylvie comes clean, and a decision is made that changes the 126 forever.

Enjoy "Dust to Dust!"

***

"Alright, so you got your honda knot," Judd held up the small piece of rope in his hands, and Izzy and Evie watched attentively. "Got your stopper. Yeah? Oh, good. Then you go under, over . . . " He twirled his finished product in the air, smiling as the girls giggled. "Throw a lasso!"

Tommy sighed wistfully from her place at the table, watching the girls mimic their godfather. "He's so good with them."

"Yeah, that's what godfathers are for," Grace nodded, watching her husband proudly. "He loves those girls, T."

"I'm so grateful," Tommy smiled. "There's a still a good man in their lives looking out for them."

She blinked back tears, sniffing as emotion overcame her, and Grace reached across the table, taking a tissue box and putting it in front of Tommy. "It's OK," she whispered.

Tommy shook her head in frustration, taking a tissue and wiping at her tears. "The funeral was two weeks ago," she protested. "You'd think I'd be able to go two minutes without a tissue break!"

"No, let it out," Grace shook her head. "Let it out."

Judd appeared behind Grace, concern on his face, the girls still practicing their lassos by the couch. "You OK?" he asked, sitting down behind Grace. He winced, gently smacking himself in the forehead. "I know that's a stupid question."

"No, no, it's not," Tommy grimaced. "Every time I think I Have a toehold on my sanity, then just . . . " She took up, needing to move. "It just hits me all over again!" She leaned on the counter, taking a few deep breaths to put herself together. "Uh . . . Charles . . . his life insurance came in," he told them. "And it's . . . it's more than I expected. You know, he was always looking out for the girls."

"Yeah, he was," Grace smiled fondly.

"So I'm thinking . . . " Tommy braced herself. "It's my turn."

Judd frowned. "What do you mean?"

"That the only reason I put that uniform back on was to support my family," Tommy told him. "So . . . he's taken care of that now."

"So, hold up," Judd sat up straight, eyes wide. "You love that job! It's a part of who you are, too, now!"

"It is," Tommy agreed. "But what am I supposed to do?"

"Well, have you told Nancy, Sylvie, or Eddie what you're thinking?" Grace asked.

"They're coming over tomorrow," Tommy nodded. "And I'll break it to them then."

Grace sighed, nodding sadly. "Well, I feel for you, T. Good luck."

Tommy waved it away, eager to change the subject. "You know what, you save some of that luck for yourself. Because tomorrow is a big day, for both of you." The Ryders grinned, knowing what Tommy meant. "Back at the call center? You must be counting down the hours!"

"I'm a little excited," Grace admitted. "Just a little bit."

"How about you, Juddy?" Tommy asked. "Have they given you any idea which firehouse you're gonna report to?"

"Nope," Judd shook his head. "Nope, the last I heard from the brass of the department is we're supposed to get a call in the morning giving us our temporary assignments."

"And Owen hasn't been able to give you a heads-up?" Tommy tilted her head.

"All he knows is that Deputy Chief Radford somehow managed to keep Buck and TK together on a squad crew, and not only that, but Severide is still in temporary command," Judd shrugged.

"Not Marjan?" Tommy blinked.

"She wasn't officially assigned to Squad 9, just temporarily there on Severide's request," Judd shook his head. "So she's in the wind with the rest of us Ladder crew members . . . and we're not really short on officers in that department, so I have no clue what's in store for Casey."

Tommy bit her lip, smothering a grin. "And how's Owen?" she asked, giggling. "Pushing papers around for the deputy chief?"

"You know Owen," Judd openly grinned, making Grace burst into a peal of giggles. "You know, he likes to jump in with both feet."

***

"Limes," Owen declared in the conference room at headquarters, looking over the gathered firefighters. "I've been thinking a lot about limes. Because limes, ladies and gentlemen, are how we are going to find efficiencies. Last year, an airline saved five hundred thousand dollars by slicing the limes into sixteen pieces instead of ten."

"So a half million in limes?" Radford raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"In limes," Owen nodded, picking up a few binders and distributing them across the table. "So I have scoured our department's budget and found many 'sliced lime' expenses. Now, these are things that we could scale back or cut, and nobody's ever gonna know the difference. So, if every fire station adjusted its thermostat by one degree, we'd save $127,000 a year. We spend $60,000 on plant watering services. That's something we should be doing ourselves . . . particularly when we know that caring for plants is good for our mental wellness. It's a true fact, and it goes on."

Radford did a double take. "For 196 pages?" Owen shrugged like it was no big deal. To him, it wasn't, not when he crunched the numbers and was confident in his findings. If it bettered the department, then the binder could be 500 pages, for all he cared. "Now . . . " Radford continued to read, and he blinked. "It says here that you project 2.7 million in savings."

"Yes, and the appendix in the back breaks down those numbers," Owen confirmed. "And we're gonna need every penny, 'cause accounting for the rise in fuel and energy, next year this time, we're gonna be hurting."

Radford chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "Well, I must say, Captain Strand, I am . . . I'm very impressed, though I'm hardly surprised by your embrace of your administrative duties."

"Well, it gives me something to do while I'm waiting for the 126 to come back online," Owen shrugged, sitting down at the table. "Look, I need your help with the city planners. They are just dragging their feet approving the crews to finish the work on the firehouse."

"Well, you just have to have a little patience with these things," Radford told him.

Owen huffed. "With all due respect, I've been patient."

"For two weeks," Radford pointed out.

Owen held in a derisive snort. "Which is thirteen days longer than it should take."

Radford cleared his throat, looking down at his binder. "Captain, can I speak to you for a moment outside?"

"Sure," Owen nodded, rising from his seat and following Radford through the building.

Radford held open the door to his office, gesturing for Owen to enter first. "Do you know I consider bringing you down to Texas one of the greatest accomplishments of my career?" he asked.

Owen smiled, touched. "Well, that's very nice of you to say."

"No, I mean it," Radford insisted, walking to his desk. "Why, it is incredible how fast you remolded the 126 into the strongest station in our city. You molded it to become even stronger with the formation of Squad 9 and EMS 99."

"99 is all Captain Brett's doing," Owen held up his hands. "I just smiled and nodded when she told me who she wanted as her partner."

"But you let her pick, and that was what made it strong," Radford told him. "I just have to wonder . . . if you could do that with one house, what you could do with a whole department."

Owen hummed, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Well, I'm happy to help in any way."

Radford smiled. "I'm not asking for your help, Captain. I'm asking you to be Austin's next deputy fire chief."

Owen blinked, then couldn't help but chuckle. "Isn't that your job?"

"Well, I'm retiring, Owen," Radford told him. "That's why I wanted you assigned to my staff. Because there is nobody that I'd rather pass the reins on to than you."

Owen stared blankly at Radford for a long time, trying to comprehend the trust that had been placed in him . . . and the offer that had just been placed in front of him. "Wow," he finally managed to say, swallowing hard. "Um . . . that's very . . . " He inhaled shakily. "Wow."

***

Station 137 was built on a larger block of property than the 126, and that allowed the station to have more rigs than others. It actually compared to Firehouse 51 in Chicago, in Buck's mind: the battalion chief ran the house, which comprised of an engine, ladder, squad, and EMS. The best thing about it, in Buck's book, was that Squad 7 was equipped just like Squad 9 had been at the 126, and it drove just the same. Radford had told them that just like Squad 9, Squad 7 had been formed at the 137 after his decision to form squads across the department.

The bad thing was that the house . . . just wasn't the 126.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful Deputy Chief Radford kept us together," Buck hastened to explain as he helped TK with inventory. "It's just – "

"I get it, man," TK smiled at him. "It's like we're in our own little island here."

"Yeah," Buck sighed, then balked and looked up at the amused officer sitting in his seat, reviewing the protocols at the 137. "Oh, God . . . no offense, Lieutenant – !"

"None taken, Buck," Kelly chuckled, waving a hand nonchalantly. "Yeah, the 126 isn't 51, but any house that's good enough for Sylvie is good enough for me. Besides, Chief Boden worked with Captain Strand before, and that makes the 126 family on its own. I'd rather be back at the 126, too . . . and we haven't even had a call yet."

"And I got used to having Marjan riding with us, too," TK frowned, checking an item off his clipboard. "I know we were a three-person firefighting team even when Sylvie rode as our paramedic . . . but even then, there were four people riding the rig. I'm glad she got her own ambo, but it felt weird dropping down to three."

"I've never led a team this small before," Kelly nodded in agreement. "Makes me wish at least one person from the actual Squad 7 crew got away from that boiler explosion."

"At least none of them died in that," Buck sighed. "Just injuries?"

"That are putting them out of action for a while," Kelly nodded. "Chances are that after Captain Strand is cleared to work again, I'm out and he's in."

"That's a shame," TK grinned. "Just when we were getting used to having you as our boss."

Kelly rolled his eyes. "You knew Casey and I weren't going to be at the 126 forever."

"I know," TK nodded. "But having the two of you here, leading the house . . . it's the happiest I've seen Sylvie in a while."

Kelly bit his lip, looking down at what he was reading. "Honestly . . . it's the happiest we've been on shift in a while, too," he admitted. "Feels like we're missing a limb whenever we leave."

Buck debated in his head, then decided to go for it. "Then maybe one day, you shouldn't go back to Chicago," he said.

TK glared at him, but Kelly sighed, shutting his binder. He wasn't going to finish reading any time soon, he just knew it. "She's never going to go back to Chicago, is she?" he asked.

TK abandoned inventory and sat on the bench across from the rig, facing his temporary lieutenant. "I don't think so," he shook his head. "Not to work for the department, anyway. A visit? Maybe . . . but she's never brought it up."

Kelly groaned in frustration, hopping from his seat and dropping the binder on it. "I just wish she would tell us what happened to make her leave!"

TK did a double take. "You haven't talked about what Captain Tyson overheard?" he asked incredulously.

"Not from a lack of trying!" Kelly gestured helplessly, running a hand through his hair. "Every time Matt or I try to bring it up, she finds some way to avoid the subject." He finally sat down on the bench as well, and Buck sat on the other side of TK, watching Kelly wrestle with his thoughts. "You know, when Grissom walked into 51 and dropped the news that Sylvie was gone . . . I'd never been that thrown in my life," he admitted. "Not until everything that happened with Casey's head injury, that is. To have someone in your life who has been through thick and thin for so long, then to have that person just vanish, without a trace . . . "

He trailed off, and TK nodded. "You never get rid of that hole," he said. "Not until that person comes back. It was like that with Elliot."

"And Maddie," Buck agreed. "Though family is a little bit different from what you and Casey went through with Sylvie."

Kelly closed his eyes. "Is it that obvious?"

TK snorted. "No offense, Lieutenant, but the only one who doesn't see it is Sylvie herself."

"Not that we haven't tried to make it obvious for her," Buck added. "Even Cap has tried."

Kelly groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "God, how clear do we have to make it for her?"

"I mean, Eddie and I were completely clueless until Eddie flat out told me," Buck shrugged.

Kelly huffed. "Yes, we should consider that . . . talking to the girl who avoid us whenever we want to have a serious talk."

"Something, or someone, has to break eventually," TK pointed out. "And I really would rather it be someone breaking silence instead of your relationship."

***

Tommy knew exactly when to expect the three other paramedics of the 126, so when she heard the faint click-clack of crutches on the sidewalk leading up to the house, she waited patiently until the doorbell rang before she opened the door. "Hi, Ms. Tommy!" Christopher gave her a happy smile.

Oh, who would be able to frown in the presence of that smile? "Hello, Christopher," Tommy greeted. "The girls are in the side room, working on homework. I figured you might want to join them."

"Yes, ma'am," Christopher nodded.

"Why don't we get you set up with them, huh, bud?" Eddie squeezed Christopher's shoulder, then smiled at Tommy. "Hey, Cap."

"Hey, Eddie," Tommy gave him a quick hug. "All of you, come on in."

"Thank you, Cap," Nancy gave her a longer hug.

Sylvie's hug, however, was the tightest. "How're you doing?" the blonde asked worriedly.

"Working on getting better," Tommy answered, and the chief paramedic seemed satisfied by that response. "I'm sorry we couldn't meet some place more fun. I'm just, you know . . . anchored to the house right now."

"No worries," Eddie chuckled, watching Christopher make his way into the side room, where Izzy and Evie gleefully waved for him to join them. "Thanks for allowing Christopher to come, too. It's weird having Buck go to work and me staying home."

"Speaking of which, any update on when we'll get back out on the street?" Nancy asked, looking between Tommy and Sylvie.

"I'm assuming you've heard the same as me?" Tommy asked Sylvie.

"Which is absolutely nothing," Sylvie confirmed, rolling her eyes. "I've heard Chief Radford is trying to pull some strings so Eddie and I can join Buck and TK over at Firehouse 137, but they don't have an extra ambulance bay."

"And that's exactly what we're waiting on, too," Tommy nodded to Nancy, filling small mugs with coffee. "No ambulance bay, no jobs for us."

"That sucks," Eddie sighed, joining the women at the counter. "Feels weird collecting a paycheck while the rig is just collecting dust in some city garage."

"I'm at peace with it," Nancy shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. She blinked, then pointed at her cup. "Coffee's sick, by the way."

Sylvie took a sip, and she made a small sound of surprise. "Yeah, it is," she agreed. "I've never tasted this before. Is it the roast?"

"Oh," Tommy blinked. "Uh . . . it's not the roast. It's the chicory." The three other paramedics looked at her in confusion, and Tommy cleared her throat. "Charles, uh . . . discovered it on a trip to New Orleans. It's what he served in the restaurant. And what we just restocked for the reopening."

"I really like it," Eddie whispered, taking a drink.

"Yeah," Nancy smiled.

Tommy fidgeted, wringing her hands. "Listen . . . I want you three to know that working with you has been the greatest blessing of my professional career."

She didn't need to say anything else. "You're not coming back," Sylvie realized. "Are you?"

Tommy smiled sadly. "I can't. the girls . . . they need me for this next chapter now, more than ever, and I'm – " A sniff from Nancy made Tommy turn to her partner, who was trying to keep her composure. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"No!" Nancy blurted, shaking her head rapidly. "Don't feel bad. You're not the first captain I've had leave to take care of family."

"Right," Tommy winced. "Michelle."

"And I have nothing but love and respect for Michelle, and this is no different," Nancy told her. She paused for a moment, then she gulped. "Except that it is different," she admitted, angrily scrubbing at her eyes. "You're my mentor of how I want to be as a paramedic, as a captain . . . and hopefully one day, a long, long time from now, a mom." She scoffed, glaring down into her coffee. "I'm sorry, this is super awkward."

"No," Tommy reached over to take her hands. "No . . . as if I needed another reason to cry."

"It's been a pleasure, Captain," Eddie smiled at her. "And I understand. Our kids are our priority, above anything else."

"Just as they should be," Sylvie nodded.

Tommy gave her an apologetic smile. "And now I'm leaving you to find your third additional paramedic captain."

"Hey, I got lucky with you," Sylvie grinned. "Third time can be a charm, too."

***

"I've got a kale antioxidant salad?" the waitress asked, stopping at the table. Owen held up his hand, smiling as she put the salad on the table in front of him. "Can I get you anything else?" she asked, looking at the blond across from Owen.

"No, thank you," Matt held up his hand.

"You sure?" Owen asked as the waitress walked away.

"I'm good, Cap," Matt promised, eyeing the salad as Owen picked up a fork. "And I mean this with all due respect . . . I have never seen someone eat as much rabbit food as you in my life."

"All respect felt," Owen chuckled. "So . . . how much is it killing you to still be off while the rest of the firefighters, including Severide, are back at work?"

"Like I actually want an arson to chase so I've got something to do," Matt groused, taking a sip of his water. "Add in the fact that every attempt at a serious conversation with Sylvie goes absolutely nowhere, I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"Well, with the 126 still out of commission for now, you can always go back to Chicago," Owen shrugged. Matt gave him a glare, and Owen smiled innocently. "Just a suggestion," he sang, taking a bite of his salad.

"Has anyone ever told you that you can be a pain in the ass sometimes, Cap?" Matt asked.

"Typically the police," Owen grinned. "Especially Liv. Elliot's usually right there with me."

Matt blinked. "Yeah, I can see that," he admitted, putting his glass down. "But I don't think you asked me to meet you just to tell me I can go back to Chicago if I wanted."

"Uh, no," Owen shook his head. "I just had a conversation with the deputy chief that was, uh . . . pretty stunning." Matt raised an eyebrow, and Owen took a deep breath. "He's retiring . . . and he wants me to take the job."

"What?" Matt grinned widely. "That's awesome!" He paused at the look on Owen's face. "OK . . . I'll back up. How're you taking that?"

"Lot of conflicting emotions right now, honestly," Owen sighed.

Matt hummed. "Yeah, I can imagine. Every good firefighter deserves to be in the field, and you're up there with the best, Cap."

"Thank you, Casey," Owen nodded. "But I don't have any interest in being the last guy in the game. I would rather walk off the field than be carried off."

"You sort of already have," Matt pointed out. "Everyone else with the 126 is back to business, except for the paramedics as they wait for room to open up somewhere. You could still be on medical leave, and instead, you're helping out in the deputy chief's office."

"Yeah, about the 126," Owen rubbed his forehead. "I've seen the red tape keeping it from getting back on its feet. Maybe if I take this job, cut through the red tape, open the firehouse and bring my people back."

"Without you there," Matt reminded him.

Owen bit his lip. "Could be the perfect time to leave because I wouldn't be leaving."

"You just wouldn't be going back." Owen didn't say anything, and Matt sighed, sitting straight in his chair. "Can I give you my point of view, Cap?"

"Please," Owen nodded, gesturing to him. "That's why I asked you to meet me."

Matt nodded. "That's not the reason you should be thinking about when considering this job." Owen's eyebrows raised, and Matt held up his hand. "It can be a reason," he stressed. "But not the reason. It's a bit selfish to be thinking just for the 126. Did Chief Radford give you a reason why he wants you to take the job?"

"He said I molded the 126 into the best firehouse in the city," Owen answered. "He wants to see what I could do with the whole department."

Matt nodded. "See, in my time at the CFD, I've come to find out there are two types of people among the brass. A bunch of them are really just politicians stuck in CFD uniforms. They manipulate the ring, see what works best for them, and a lot of what happens to firefighters is an afterthought . . . until it could potentially bring catastrophe to them, and all of a sudden they're involved and trying to save their own necks, everyone else be damned." Owen winced sympathetically, and Matt gave a wry grin. "Yeah. I nearly got thrown to the wolves after the factory fire where I lost one of my men."

"Otis, right?" Owen asked.

"Yeah," Matt nodded. "But then there are the gems in the rough, those in the brass who took their posts because they genuinely want to make a difference from their new positions. Those in command who want only the best for firefighters, who represent the best the department has to offer. When the run for commissioner started, Kelly and I encouraged Boden to run for the position because someone like him deserved to have that kind of a position for two reasons: he's a good man, and he's a damn good firefighter."

"That's Wallace to a T," Owen agreed.

"That's you, too, Cap," Matt told him, making Owen blink. "And from the conversations I've had with Chief Radford, that's him, too. He wants someone like that to be in charge of the department. Someone who cares about the department, who cares about the firefighters, who wants to look out for the department. He wants someone who can go toe to toe with the brass who might just be in it for themselves, and he wants someone who will fight like hell to make the department the best it can be."

Suddenly, Owen didn't feel as hungry as when he sat down. "You think I should take the offer."

"Does it matter what I think?" Matt countered.

"I asked you here so you could tell me what you think!" Owen huffed.

"I've told you what I think," Matt shrugged. "And I think Chief Radford picked an excellent successor . . . but I can't tell you to take the offer, Cap. That has to be your decision, and no one else's."

***

"Thank you for letting me do this by myself, Maddie," Grace smiled as she carefully hobbled down the staircase of the dispatch center, leaning heavily on the railing.

"Of course," Maddie nodded, walking slowly to match Grace, watching but not interfering with Grace's movements. "I think Judd might actually kill me if I let you fall."

"He wouldn't do that," Grace scoffed.

Maddie shook her head. "Well, I don't want to find out."

Applause made Grace halt on the final level, and she looked around, touched, as every dispatcher stood from their station, clapping for her with smiles on their faces. Grace looked in surprise at Maddie, who grinned at her as she, too, joined the applause. "Oh, my gosh," Grace shook her head, blushing as dispatchers flocked to her station, distributing balloons and treats for her. "Stop, stop, stop! Thank you, guys, I appreciate it." She shook her head, making her way down the final steps. "Y'all . . . you didn't have to do this."

"If you thought we wouldn't celebrate your first day back, you don't know us very well," Bree snorted.

"Aw, Bree," Grace smiled. "Well, y'all gonna have to help me eat all of it, then."

"Oh, I call the white chocolate pineapple," Joel grinned, rubbing his hands together.

"Joel!" Maddie glared.

Grace just giggled, plucking a white chocolate pineapple flower skewer from the bouquet. "This will be great in the breakroom," she told the dispatcher. "Thank you." The dispatcher nodded and pushed the cart away, and Grace extended the skewer to Joel. "Sir."

"Thank you," Joel grinned. "And seriously . . . yeah, we missed you, Grace. The place wasn't the same without you."

"He's right," Bree nodded. "It's been a long six weeks."

"Yeah, it's been longer for me," Grace smiled. "Call me crazy, but there is nowhere else on Earth I feel more relaxed than this place."

Maddie beamed at her. "Welcome back, Grace."

"It's good to be back," Grace nodded, and the four dispatchers sat at their cluster of stations.

***

Multiple glasses suddenly shattered on pavement behind them, and Owen twisted in his seat to see tables get upended. Matt quickly reached out and grabbed their glasses before they, too, toppled to the ground, and Owen braced himself as he stood in the wind. "What the hell?" he winced, shielding his eyes.

Matt, too, stood and craned his neck to see, and his eyes widened when he saw the billowing clouds ominously closing in on the city. "Oh, my God," he swallowed hard. "Dust storm!" he yelled.

"Everybody, get inside!" Owen called, jumping into action as the dust and wind billowed around them.

"Dust storm!" Matt shouted at the top of his lungs. "Everyone, get inside, now!"

***

A crash from by the bay doors made Buck peek out of the driver's door of the rig, and he frowned, seeing the supplies rolling along the floor. "What was that?" he frowned, jumping out.

"And what the hell is that?" TK pointed out the doors, squinting through the cloud of dust.

"Did we miss a tornado alert or something?" Kelly shielded his eyes, bracing himself as it all blew into the firehouse.

"That's no tornado, Lieutenant!" Chief Abrams shook his head, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Everybody inside, now! Hit the bay doors!" TK ran for the controls, slamming his hand on the buttons as firefighters ran into the house, their uniforms completely tan from the dust. "Inside, everyone! It's a dust storm!"

"We're getting a dust storm?!" Buck balked in horror.

Kelly swallowed hard, watching the dust whip outside the station. "Now I understand what Capp means when he says 51 was normal."

***

"Breaking news as a massive dust storm 35 miles wide and nearly two miles tall barrels across Austin, with winds clocking in at 65 miles per hour, wreaking havoc on a massive scale."

Captain Andrews of the Austin 122 snorted and turned from the TV to the three transplants at the back of the breakroom. "So much for 'no crazy calls around here.'"

"Yeah, we got the 126 in the house now," Paul quipped.

"We bring the crazy," Marjan agreed, making Judd snort.

"Unfortunately, first responders won't really know what they're up against until the dust starts to clear," the news concluded.

The alarms in the house started to ring, and Andrews turned as the firefighters stood. "Alright, everybody, gear up," he ordered. "The second the storm passes, we're out!"

Paul shook his head, staring at the camera's footage of the dust storm. "Man, that's like something out of The Mummy," he marveled, joining Marjan and Judd in heading for the apparatus floor. "How the hell does one of these things start anyway?"

"They happen in Lebanon," Marjan answered. "All it takes is a downburst of low-pressure air into a big, dry patch of soil, and boom! You've got yourself a haboob."

Judd blinked. "Say what?"

"A haboob," she repeated. "Massive dust storm. That's what they're called."

Paul shook his head. "That's just not right."

"I know," Judd whistled. "Mother Nature ain't no joke."

"No," Paul smirked. "I mean that she just said the word 'haboob' and Probie wasn't here to enjoy it."

Marjan snickered, and Judd laughed loudly, following them out to the rigs.

***

As much as he despised working at the 129, Mateo decided he would much rather be scrubbing floors and doing chores than be by himself out in the middle of a massive dust storm, away from the house because he had been sent to pick up lunch. After all, what could one firefighter – and he was still a probationary firefighter, for the love of God! – do in the middle of a street with the remnants of a helicopter on the ground and an honest to God jet engine on fire from where it crashed from the sky onto a bus?

As he watched civilians stumble around the square, he blinked, watching the engine billow smoke. Right . . . a jet engine on fire. Not good. "Hey, get away from the bus!" he shouted, running over and gesturing for them to follow him. "Get away! Get away, come on! Come on!" He herded them away from the bus, and an almighty boom behind him signaled the explosion he had expected. As he gathered his bearings, he turned to one of the men. "Hey, wait!"

"Yeah?" the man looked at him, clutching his shoulder.

"Go find a landline, call 9-1-1," Mateo ordered. "Tell them there's been a midair collision over Wellsworth Square. Go, go, go!"

"OK!" the man nodded, running towards the buildings.

With that handled, Mateo turned to the wreckage of the helicopter. He carefully made his way through the dust, then blinked when he saw the woman who had packed the 129's sandwiches on the ground. "Ma'am?" he asked, stumbling over.

He froze when he saw her eyes glazed over, a chunk of shrapnel piercing her through the chest, right through her heart. He gulped, sinking into a crouch, knowing it was hopeless to try, but he did anyway. He reached out and searched for a pulse, and when he didn't find one, he scrambled to his feet and backed up, surveying the disaster around him. He was missing his firehouse, he was alone, and now more than ever, he really wished he had someone with him to encourage him. He could use a win.

A thud from the helicopter made him jump, and he turned to see a hand pressed against the glass. On instinct, Mateo reached up to match the hand, and he hissed in pain, jumping back when he burned his hands. Christ, that was hot! "I see you!" he called, hoping the survivor heard him as he ran around to find a way inside. "I see you! I'm coming!"

He finally found the door into the helicopter, and despite coughing from the smoke, he yanked the door off of the helicopter and hooked his hands under the pilot's arms, carefully dragging him outside. He winced when the pilot screamed in agony, and as soon as the man was on the ground, he crouched next to him. "Where does it hurt?" he asked.

"My legs," the man choked. "I think they're broken!"

Mateo looked around, then waved to get the attention of a pair of men nearby. "Hey, you two! I need your help!" The men ran over, and Mateo turned back to the pilot. "What's your name, sir?"

"Julian," he swallowed. "Where am I?"

"Wellsworth Square," Mateo told him. "You've been in an accident."

"No," Julian groaned. "Was I certified?"

Mateo snorted. "Don't worry about that right now." The men joined Mateo, looking inquisitively at him. "Guys, this is Julian. I think he may have a concussion. I need you to stay with him and keep him talking till help gets here, OK?"

The men nodded, and Julian squeezed Mateo's forearm. "Thank you," he whispered.

"No worries," Mateo patted his shoulder, standing up and looking around at the other civilians that were starting to hobble out into the square. All of these people . . . and he was the only firefighter in the area who could help them.

Right, Mateo clenched his jaw. What would the Caps do?

***

As Owen and Matt hurried through headquarters, Matt felt the incredulous stares on their backs. He knew what they were seeing – both were in their AFD jackets, but the amount of dust covering their clothes meant they were more beige than black. "You didn't have to come," Owen repeated.

"We're in the middle of a natural disaster, and I'm still technically your interim, even if I'm not at a house," Matt shook his head. "I'm helping."

Owen didn't argue any further as they entered Radford's office, the man speaking on the phone. "I see. Alright, well . . . if you hear anything, you let me know."

"What's going on?" Owen asked.

"Seems like the 129 lost an engine," Radford sighed. "Along with its crew."

Owen blinked. "What do you mean, lost?"

"They were out on a call when the storm hit," Radford answered. "No one can reach them."

Matt gulped, looking at Owen. "The 129 . . . isn't that the house – ?"

"That's where Mateo got assigned," Owen nodded, turning to leave.

"Hey, no," Matt held up his hand, backing up to the doorway. "Stay here in case any more information comes in about them. I'll go look for them."

"Captain Casey, you don't have an assignment yet," Radford frowned.

"I was the commanding officer of the 126 while Captain Strand was out, sir," Matt shook his head. "As far as I'm concerned, that means his probie is also my probie. Captain Strand is assigned here. I'm not. So I'm going to go find him."

Owen sighed, then nodded. "Be careful, Matt."

Matt nodded, then turned on his heel and ran through the building.

***

"Folks, if you can walk and talk without too much pain, have a seat in the green zone!" Mateo ordered, pointing to the tarps laid out on the ground. "Broken bones, non-life-threatening burns and cuts, yellow zone. Anything more serious than that, red zone so the first responders know who to treat first." As civilians worked to find their designated zone, Mateo returned his attention to the man whose leg he worked to treat. "Sir, are you on any medication?" he asked.

"Uh, thyroid meds," Arnold nodded. "And – and heparin for my heart."

"Heparin's a blood thinner," Mateo muttered, narrowing his eyes. "This could make the hemorrhage worse. I'm gonna need to tourniquet your leg, OK?" Arnold nodded, and Mateo turned to a man walking nearby. "Hey, can I borrow your belt?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," the man nodded, undoing it and pulling it from his trousers. "Here you go."

As Mateo fashioned the belt into a makeshift tourniquet, Arnold looked around. "Hey, where the heck are they? The first responders?"

"Sir, they're on their way," Mateo answered. "It's gonna be tough with the storm." He tightened the belt around Arnold's leg. "Little squeeze," he warned before tugging. Arnold yelped and whimpered at the pain, and Mateo examined his handiwork before nodding. "Take him to the red zone," he told the men nearby. "See if you can get him some water from one of the restaurants." They nodded, and Mateo looked back at Arnold. "Sir, don't forget: I need you to tell the paramedics that you're on medication. It's very important."

"I won't," Arnold nodded, squeezing his arm. "God bless you, son."

Mateo smiled and stood, leaving Arnold in the hands of other civilians. "Hey!" a man called nearby, jogging out and looking relatively unscathed, barely any dust on him. "Are any firefighters here yet? Some people need help!"

"I'm a firefighter!" Mateo held up his hand, running over. "Where are they?"

The man pointed to the office building nearby. "I heard screaming on the sixth floor on my way out," he explained. "I think they're trapped in an elevator."

Mateo sighed, seeing the smoking remains of the jet engine on top of the building, black smoke billowing into the sky. "Of course, they are."

***

"Hey," Sylvie nudged Nancy when the news returned. "Turn it up."

Nancy nodded, finding the remote and turning up the volume on the Vegas' TV. "Folks, we are getting our first images of the damage done by the dust storm," the reporter said. "Authorities are begging people to shelter in place, as scores of pileups have been reported from Round Rock to West Lake Hills. With emergency calls coming from all parts of the city, first responders are spread to their limit."

"Well, there's us," Eddie said, turning to Sylvie. "Can we get the rig out of the garage?"

"Yeah, we can," Sylvie nodded. "I know where we can get the keys."

"Can you handle a third?" Nancy asked, looking at them.

"Mommy?" Tommy turned from where she sat to see Evie, Izzy, and Christopher had come into the living room, and Evie was looking at her intently. "You need to go."

Tommy blinked, then shook her head. "No, babies, Mommy doesn't work today."

"But you heard them," Izzy argued. "Those people need help."

Evie nodded in agreement. "They need you."

Tommy turned to Sylvie and Eddie, who were already at the door, then to Nancy, who was looking at her hopefully. Tommy bit her lip, then took a deep breath. "We need someone to watch the kids."

Eddie grinned. "I know someone who's off today."

***

"Fire Station 129, this is Firefighter Trout."

"Firefighter Trout, this is Captain Matt Casey, 126," Matt said as he drove down the streets of Austin. "I'm calling to see if you've heard from your missing engine."

"Uh, no," Trout told him. "Our ladder's out looking for 'em now."

Matt nodded. "Was Mateo Chavez on either the ladder or the engine?"

"Oh, yeah, the probie kid! No, he didn't go with them. He went out to pick up a lunch order for the house."

Matt narrowed his eyes. "And you haven't heard from him, either?"

"Not that I know of, no."

Matt sighed. He was torn between being grateful that Mateo wasn't with the missing engine and being worried about Mateo not answering. "Where'd you order lunch from?"

***

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

"Please help!" a woman's panicked voice shouted. "I've been buried alive!"

"Well, alive is good," Grace remarked, typing into her computer. "Do you know where you are?"

"Uh, my backyard!"

"Can you give me your address?"

"3412 Crockett Creek!"

Grace nodded, searching for the address. "Did something collapse on you, ma'am?"

"No, I'm in a storage box."

Grace did a double take. "Did you say a storage box?"

"I was gardening, I took cover when the storm hit . . . and now I can't get it open!"

Grace sighed. "We are getting reports of dust drifts up to eight feet high." She peered at her monitor when the address came through. "Is this Margaret Gilbert?"

"Yes!"

"Try to stay calm," Grace told her. "Now, I see you live with your husband. Is he at home?"

"He was taking a nap when I came outside. He's not answering."

"I'm gonna try him anyway," Grace decided. "Is he the 0470 number?"

"Yes."

"OK," Grace nodded, dialing the number.

It rang once before giving an automated message. "This is Hammond, and shoot . . . you just missed me!"

Grace shook her head. "Right to voicemail."

"Oh, God!" Margaret sobbed. "I can't breathe! I – I'm having trouble breathing! I can't breathe!"

"Margaret, listen," Grace told her. "If you can talk, then you can breathe, OK? Now, I know it's difficult, but I need you to take slow, deep breaths to conserve your oxygen."

Margaret sniffed. "OK."

Grace tapped her fingers together, thinking hard. "Margaret, we're not gonna wait for first responders," she decided. "Now, we are gonna get you out of there. I need you to keep your head for me, though, OK?"

"OK."

"You said you were in a storage box . . . what do you keep in there?"

"Gardening supplies," Margaret answered quickly.

"OK, now, does that mean you have tools in there?"

"Yes!" Margaret brightened. "Yes, I do!"

"OK, good," Grace nodded. "Can you reach any of them?"

"I don't know." Grace waited, then heard Margaret gasp. "I've got a hand trowel!"

"Good," Grace smiled. "What's the box made out of?"

"Wood . . . pine, I think."

"OK, pine box," Grace nodded, scrolling through her computer. "Same as an old-school coffin. That's perfect."

"Perfect?!" Margaret screeched. "How is that perfect?"

"I'm following protocols for someone buried alive in a coffin," Grace answered, reading intently. "Which I didn't even know we had. OK, listen, Margaret. I need you to take the trowel and place it in the center of the lid. That's where it should be its weakest. I need you to hit the center as hard as you can."

"OK." Grace heard the thudding of Margaret hitting the coffin, then the woman sobbed. "No, Grace, it's not – it's not working!"

"It's gonna work, Margaret," Grace promised. "We just have to get it to crack, OK? Don't stop."

Eventually, Grace heard the sound of cracking wood. "It's cracking! It's cracking! I can get my hands through! It's just dirt! More dirt! It's coming in!"

"That's what we want," Grace nodded. "Now, the weight of the dirt and gravity should help get you out of that box. Margaret, listen, before you do, we need you to protect your airways on your way out. now, are you able to remove your shirt?"

"Can a sweater work?"

"Yes," Grace smiled. "Yes, use that."

"OK. OK, it's on!"

"OK, good. Now, try to wriggle your body so that your arms come out first. Keep climbing until you reach the surface. Do not stop, Margaret. You can do it."

She heard the telltale sign of wood cracking and falling, and then Margaret screamed in delight. "I'm out!"

"Yeah, you are," Grace beamed. "Good job, Margaret."

The call disconnected, and Maddie turned from her station, smiling happily at Grace. "Welcome back," he said sincerely.

Grace grinned. "It's good to be back."

***

Tommy walked out of the back, fastening her watch around her wrist. "Everything ready with the rig?" she asked.

"Gassed, stocked, and ready to rock," Nancy reported with a grin. "99's already heading out."

"Alright," Tommy nodded. "Girls, Christopher, you mind your babysitter, you promise?"

"We promise!" the trio chorused.

Carlos gave Nancy a fond, exasperated look, and the paramedic giggled. "Adorable."

Carlos shook his head and laughed, waving as the women left. "Don't you worry about us. Go save the world!"

***

"Captain Strand to Squad 7. Repeat, Captain Strand to Squad 7."

As TK started from where he sat driving the rig, Kelly merely answered the voice in his ear. "This is Squad 7, Captain. We read you."

"Lieutenant, we've got calls rolling in across Austin, but we've figured out where you're needed most based on your current location," Owen told him. "Your team is needed at Wellsworth Square as fast as you can get there. Firehouse 122 will meet you."

"Copy, Captain Strand," Kelly nodded, watching TK adjust their route. "We're on our way."

Another voice broke in, this one familiar. "Captain Strand, this is EMS 99," Eddie announced, and Buck laughed from the back. "We got our rig out of storage and are ready to go wherever you need us."

"Welcome back, 99!" Owen's delight was clear. "All available paramedics are required at Wellsworth Square, so why don't you join up with Squad 7 when you get there?"

"You got it, Cap," Sylvie told him. "We'll meet you there, Severide. Watch yourselves in this mess."

"We'll be careful," Kelly smiled. "As long as you do the same thing, Brett, Diaz."

"Copy."

***

Mateo scaled the stairs as fast as he could, running past fleeing civilians. He gave them a quick scan as he ran, but no one seemed injured, so he kept going until he reached the sixth floor. Upon first look, there was no one around. But the man had said . . . "Hello?" he hollered. "Anybody there?"

"Yes!" a faint voice shouted, and sure enough, it came from the elevator. "We're in here!"

"Help us!" another woman called as Mateo ran to the pair of elevators. "Please, help us!"

"We're stuck in here!"

It was a man that third time, and it helped Mateo determine it was the left elevator that held the trapped civilians. "Austin Fire, I'm gonna get you out!" he announced.

The man sighed in relief. "The fire department's here! We're gonna be OK!"

Mateo tried the buttons on the wall, but nothing opened the doors. That meant he had to do this himself. He rubbed his hands together, then worked his fingers into the crack in the doors. He pulled with all his might, wincing as the doors creaked. The second woman screamed in fear. "Please hurry! It feels like it's going to fall!"

"I just have to get these doors open!" Mateo told her. The doors finally opened all the way, and Mateo bent down, trying to see into the top crack of the elevator. "How many people are in there?" he asked.

"Five!" the first woman answered. "There's five of us. What happened? It felt like a bomb went off!"

"Airplane hit the building," Mateo admitted, looking around for any tools to use.

"Oh, my God, terrorists?!" the second woman squeaked.

"Mother Nature," Mateo corrected. "Is anybody injured?"

"I don't think so," the first woman answered. "We're just soaked."

Mateo frowned as he got a metal lamp to use. "A pipe burst or something?"

"I don't think it's water. It smells like chemicals."

"It's giving me a headache!" the man added. Mateo finally forced the top of the doors open, and three faces peered up at him. "I thought you said the fire department was here!" the man stared at him.

"I am the fire department!" Mateo huffed.

"Oh, God," the man cried, leaning against the wall. "We're gonna die!"

"Mateo?" a familiar voice called, and Mateo looked up in surprise. "Is that you?"

"Over here, Cap!" Mateo called with a grin. "I need a hand!"

"Well, you got mine," Matt jogged into view. He looked from the makeshift crowbar in Mateo's hand, then ducked down to peer into the elevator. His eyes widened, and he snatched the lamp from Mateo's hand. "Nobody move," he ordered. "Nobody use their phones, and nobody vape."

"How'd you find me?" Mateo asked as Matt moved away, placing the lamp to the side.

"I followed your trail," Matt grinned. "I guess rescues are the new breadcrumbs."

"Cool," Mateo couldn't help but smile proudly. "I was using that to pry the doors open."

"Don't," Matt shook his head. "Mateo, there's a plane on top of this building. That liquid they're covered in? That's not water. It's jet fuel. That's what the chemical smell is. If we use anything metal to open those doors that throws a spark – "

Mateo gulped. "The whole thing goes up."

***

The 122 was the first of the firefighting rigs to arrive, and Andrews jumped out of the officer's seat, looking around the crowded square. "Strickland, Marwani!" he called.

"Yep?" Paul looked up.

"Start triaging until medical lands," he ordered.

Paul nodded, grabbing one of the jump bags from the rig. He walked towards the mass amount of victims spread out along the square, but he paused, seeing them already grouped out, each lying close to a brightly colored tarp: green, yellow, or red. "Cap?" he called. "I think somebody already took care of triage!"

"Who?" Andrews blinked, looking around. "We're the first company on scene!"

Marjan approached a pair of men lying on the red tarp: one with a belt as a makeshift tourniquet around his leg, and another with his legs bent in awkward angles. "Excuse me, guys," she cleared her throat. "Who separated you into these groups?"

"Uh . . . " The man with the tourniquet blinked. "That handsome firefighter."

Judd raised an eyebrow, then recognized Matt walking out of one of the buildings, speaking into the radio around his body. "I'll be damned," he snorted. "You mean him, don't you?"

The man turned to see Judd point at Matt, but he shook his head. "No, him."

Marjan's jaw dropped as Mateo came sprinting out of the building, listening attentively to Matt and nodding at his words. A few seconds later, Matt looked up and held up his hand, and then they could clearly hear him in person and over the radio. "Captain Casey to Squad 7!"

"We read you, Casey," Kelly's voice answered as the sound of sirens approached.

"ETA to Wellsworth Square?"

"We're pulling up right behind the 122," TK answered.

Matt nodded. "When you land, I need you to bring rubber mallets and wooden blocks. Got a group of civilians trapped in an elevator with jet fuel dripping inside. Nothing metal."

"Copy that!" Kelly answered.

Judd turned as the sirens blasted, and Squad 7 veered into an open area, Kelly and Buck dropping out of the rig before the engine stopped. As TK joined them, EMS 99 whipped into the square as well. "Who's the IC?" Sylvie asked as she jumped from the driver's seat, Eddie moving to open the back of the ambulance.

"Casey was technically first here!" Mateo pointed out.

"I'm not attached to a house," Matt shook his head. "That'll be the 122!"

Sylvie turned to Andrews, who extended his hand. "Captain Andrews, 122."

"Captain Brett, 126," she shook his hand. "Mind if I steal Marjan and Paul to help with these folks?"

"Triage is yours, Captain," Andrews nodded.

"Oh, Sylvie?" Mateo called as he helped Kelly, Buck, and TK with their equipment. "Arnold over there is on thyroid and heart medications, including blood thinners."

Sylvie looked over the gash in Arnold's leg. "Thanks, Mateo!"

"Ready?" Matt asked Kelly.

Kelly nodded. "On your six, Case."

***

"Alright, everybody, we're back!" Matt called when they returned to the elevator. "Mateo and I brought some friends, too. Now listen, when we get these doors open, you've got to be ready to help everybody out, got it?"

"Got it!" the first woman answered.

Matt nodded and backed away, and TK fitted a wooden block in the door. "Go for it."

Buck nodded, hitting the block as hard as he could with one of the mallets. An ominous creak came from above the elevator, and Mateo gulped. "Uh . . . guys?"

Matt nodded, seeing the fraying cables above the elevator. "We got it, Mateo."

Buck got the block all the way in, and Kelly crouched down. "That's it! Let's go!"

TK and Buck pried their hands into the opening, and once the gap was wide enough, Kelly added his strength to push the elevator doors open. Thankfully, the gap was wide enough that they could easily see the five stuck in the elevator. "Alright, let's get everyone out!" Matt ordered.

"Bridget, you first!" The first female voice belonged to a black woman in blue, gesturing to one of the women. "Graham, help me get her up!"

"Watch your head," TK warned, helping the brunette out of the elevator.

Mateo wrinkled his nose, the chemicals in the jet fuel more pungent than ever as she crawled onto the floor. "There you go," he nodded as everyone evacuated. "Straight out, straight out."

Something started to squeal, and Buck looked up. "What is that?" he demanded.

The elevator started to sink, and the lone person left in the elevator screamed. "Help me! Help me!"

"Graham!" the woman in blue shouted.

"Don't move!" Matt shouted.

Kelly leaned into the elevator shaft, looking at the fraying cables before down at the elevator. "Be ready to get him out!" he told Buck.

"Lieutenant?" Buck blinked, then balked as Kelly jumped down on top of the elevator. "Whoa!"

"Lieutenant!" TK protested.

Kelly opened the top of the elevator, bending down to see Graham wincing at the flashlight beam from his turnout. "Come on," he reached down. "Grab my hand! Let's go!" Graham grabbed onto his hand, and Kelly pulled him out of the elevator. "Buck?"

"Ready!" Buck nodded, inching closer to the shaft.

"One, two – " Kelly pushed Graham up to Buck, who pulled the fuel-covered man into the hallway.

The fraying cables finally snapped, and TK lunged forward. "Lieutenant!"

Matt surged as well, and both grabbed one of Kelly's arms as the lieutenant grabbed onto the edge of the opening, wincing. "Make it quick!" Matt winced, pulling as hard as he could. "When that elevator hits the bottom – !"

"Get down!" TK hollered over his shoulder.

Buck and Mateo covered the rest of the civilians as Matt and TK pulled Kelly out of the elevator shaft, and the trio plastered themselves to the ground as the elevator hit the bottom and a massive fireball rolled up the shaft, the heat hitting their backs.

***

"Cap! Lieutenant!" Judd was the first to run up when the group of five firefighters emerged with the civilians, the 2IC of Ladder 126 looking at them in concern. "Everyone alright?"

"We're good, Judd," Matt nodded.

"No major injuries, but they're covered in jet fuel," Mateo reported. "You're gonna want to hose them down before you travel them."

"We can help with that," Andrews nodded, gesturing towards the 122's rigs. "This way, folks! Garcia, hook up a booster line!"

Kelly looked around at the triage area, and he looked at Mateo. "You did all of this?" he asked.

"Yeah," Mateo nodded shyly.

He was surprised when Kelly grinned. "Nice job, Chavez."

Mateo smiled, opening one of Squad 7's compartments to put equipment back into place. "Thanks, Lieutenant."

"Grunt!" The voice made Mateo freeze, and he turned to see Engine 129 had arrived on scene . . . including his captain. "Grunt, is that you?"

"Captain Tatum," he nodded curtly, swiftly turning to continue what he was doing.

"What in Sam Hill are you doing over here?" Tatum demanded.

Mateo refrained from rolling his eyes. "I was in the neighborhood picking up lunch when the storm hit."

"I think you need to reread your academy manual, son," Tatum scoffed; Mateo saw Kelly, TK, and Buck slow their actions as they listened. Matt had completely stopped what he was doing to watch, his eyes narrowed. "Hank, what's the protocol for being separated from one's house in the field?"

"A firefighter is to radio dispatch and his commanding officer of their current situation immediately," the firefighter answered promptly.

Tatum gave Mateo a scowl. "That'd be a fail, grunt. KP duty for a month!"

"Not that you did any better today," Matt interjected coldly, shutting the compartment with a slam that made Marjan jump. "Isn't that right, Captain?"

Tatum reared to his full height. "Excuse me?" he snapped. "And you are?"

"Matt Casey, the interim captain for Owen Strand at the 126," Matt answered immediately. "Which makes me Mateo's captain, not you. And the reason I was out here to begin with is because your rig didn't check in . . . for hours!"

"That's different," Tatum shook his head, coughing into his sleeve. "We broke down in the dust storm, killed all our comms."

Judd snorted. "Y'all thought it was smart to drive around through the dust storm?"

"We don't have dust storms in Chicago, but talk about breaking protocols," Kelly snarked.

"It snuck up on us!" Hank protested.

Buck mimicked his voice, making Mateo snicker. "Hey, you," Tatum scowled. "You think it's funny, grunt? Start wiping down this rig! I want it dust-free by the time we're done with this call."

"Did all the dust do something to your head, Captain?" Matt asked incredulously.

"It's cool," Mateo shook his head. "I got it." He turned to Tatum with a sigh. "Captain Tatum, I'll wipe down your cab, I'll pick up your fatty foods, I'll scrub your disgusting floors . . . 'cause that's who I am."

Hank snorted. "At least he's a happy grunt."

"No, I'm a firefighter!" Mateo snapped. "And I've already reread the FD manual, like, five times! Listened to it, actually, because my friends recorded it for me!" Matt gave Marjan and Paul an impressed look, making them smile. "So I've learned how to respond to toxic spills and dumpster fires . . . all of which was great training for working with you guys at the 129!"

Hank's jaw dropped, and TK and Buck burst into hysterical laughter. "Atta boy, Probie!" Judd grinned proudly as Marjan whooped.

Tatum glared at Mateo, coughing into his arm. "Hope you enjoyed yourself, insubordinate little – "

His coughing overtook his voice, and Mateo paused, seeing dust pour out of his mouth. "Captain?" Hank asked, stepping forward.

Hank dropped to the ground, and Paul spun around. "Brett!" he bellowed, and the blonde looked up from where she and Eddie were working on Julian. "Diaz!"

Movement came from the other side of the rigs, then Tommy appeared through the cloud of dust, bag over her shoulder. "How about Vega and Gillian?" she asked as Nancy ran in behind her.

"Captain Vega!" Matt grinned. "I thought you were off today!"

"Likewise, Captain Casey," Tommy smirked, crouching down and taking out her stethoscope. "What happened here?"

"I don't know," Mateo shook his head. "He started ripping me a new one, and then he started foaming at the mouth!"

"Nancy, check his O2 levels," Tommy ordered, bending down and looking at the blood caked around Tatum's mouth. "Judging by the sputum, he's aspirated a lot of dust. Can anybody tell me if he was in the storm when it started?"

"We were stuck on the side of the road trying to fix our engine," Hank nodded. "But why would it start now?"

Tommy fixed a valve mask over Tatum's mouth. "His trachea's probably been swelling this whole time," she answered. "The yelling put him over the top."

"Cap, no chest rise," Nancy told her. "O2 stats are falling."

"His airway's closing," Tommy deduced. "He's drowning in dust. Prep to intubate."

Nancy bent over Tatum, carefully easing the tube into his mouth. After a moment, she frowned and shook her head. "Cap, I can't get it in. his vocal cords are way too swollen. Should we trach him?"

"No, not in this dust," Tommy shook her head. "We're gonna have to go through the eye of the needle. Hand me the bougie and slide over."

Nancy obeyed, and Tommy traded places with her, taking over fitting the tube into his mouth. "Cap, he's cyanotic," she warned, checking his stats. "We're losing him."

Tommy gritted her teeth, carefully adjusting the tubing. "Come on," she muttered before grinning. "Got it!" Nancy fastened the valve mask in place, and she returned to watching the equipment as Tommy squeezed the bag. "Come on, Captain."

After a few breaths, Nancy smiled. "His O2 levels are rising, and his heart's stabilizing," she reported.

"And he's pinking up," Tommy nodded, smiling as Tatum's eyes fluttered. "There you are. Welcome back, Captain!" She turned to Nancy. "Can you take it from here?"

Nancy nodded, and Matt grinned. "Good work, Captain!"

Tommy grinned in return. "Thank you very much, Captain!"

"Rescue 126!" Paul whooped.

The rest of the house cheered, and Matt winked and raised a hand for a high-five. Tommy laughed and slapped her hand against his as she jogged to join Sylvie and Eddie over at triage, leaving Tatum in Nancy's capable hands.

***

"Buttercup!" Mateo whistled, sliding open the doors at Owen's house. "C'mon!"

The Bernese Mountain dog trotted back into the house, beelining for Sylvie. "Hey, boy," Sylvie crooned, running her hands through his fur. "Oh, yeah, you don't like that dust, huh?"

"I don't think any of us like that dust," Kelly shook his head, scratching the back of his head. "I swear, that shower I took at the end of shift was four times longer than anything I've taken before."

"And we've been in Hazmat fires," Matt agreed.

"Yo, Carlos!" Paul grinned. "You should've seen our boy putting that asshat captain on blast in front of everyone!"

"Yeah, man, what did you say?" Buck smirked.

Mateo shrugged bashfully. "It was all a white-hot blur."

"You called them a toxic dumpster fire," Marjan sang.

"No way!" Eddie's eyes bugged open.

"Way!" Marjan cackled. "I have never been prouder of anyone in my life!"

Mateo blushed. "For real?"

"Yeah, babe, seriously," TK lounged against Carlos. "It was, like, the mother of all mic drops."

"He slayed him!" Nancy crowed. "I mean, literally. Dude dropped to the ground choking on dirt and his own bile!"

Maddie spat out her drink of wine. "Excuse me?!"

"Don't worry," Nancy giggled. "He lived."

"Wow," Carlos cleared his throat, looking wide-eyed around the room. And all he had done was look after three kids! "That all sounds pretty . . . "

"Epic?" Paul suggested.

"Wicked?" Sylvie offered.

"I was gonna say 'insane,'" Carlos corrected.

"OK, but should we be worried about what this captain may do?" Maddie asked, looking at Mateo. "I mean . . . you're with him until the 126 is back."

"Nah," Mateo shook his head with a smile. "'Cause at the end of the day, he's not my captain. Not really. And I'm definitely not his probie."

"He could still make your life hell," Eddie pointed out.

Mateo shrugged. "More like purgatory. I just got to survive him and the rest of those 129 D-bags a little while longer."

"Then it's back to the promised land of the 126, baby," Paul grinned, holding up his beer bottle. "Come on, y'all, can I get an amen?"

"Amen!" TK agreed.

Matt smiled, leaning over to join everyone in clinking bottles. Yeah, he and Kelly may not be officially members of the 126 . . . but this was Sylvie's house, and while Owen was still on leave, the 126 was theirs, too.

***

Judd pushed a heap of dust off the table, and he scoffed at the futility of the action. "Pardon our dust," he quipped.

Owen merely smirked. "Sometimes, I feel like the dust has been chasing me for twenty years."

Judd grinned. "Well, it ain't caught you yet, so . . . " Owen raised his tumbler in toast, and he handed Judd the other as they climbed onto the picnic table to drink. "Thank you, Cap."

Owen nodded, taking a sip of his tumbler. "Did, uh . . . did Casey tell you what I met to talk to him about today?" he asked.

"Mmm," Judd shook his head as he took a drink. "No, he didn't. He just said it was something important, and you'd tell us when you were ready."

"Ah," Owen gave an uneasy smile. "Yeah, well . . . he's right."

Judd tilted his head. "You ready?"

"Not yet," Owen shook his head. "I'd rather have a definitive answer on this before I tell everyone else. You know, not to make everyone have expectations."

"Copy that," Judd nodded. "Well . . . they give you any sense at headquarters when they think they'll get the station back up on its feet?"

Owen snorted loudly. "I mean, come on, these bureaucrats need seventeen different signatures to change a light bulb."

"Damn," Judd whistled lowly. "That red tape is no joke, man." He shook his head, taking a sip of his drink. "May as well be trying to cut through steel."

Owen hummed in agreement, then blinked. "That's it!"

"What?" Judd did a double take. "What's it?"

"We're firefighters!" Owen laughed. "We cut through steel all the time!"

***

The doors to the 126 apparatus floor creaked open, and Owen clapped his hands, leading everyone inside. "Alright, everything charred goes!" he announced as TK and Judd wheeled barrows into garage. "I don't care if it's on the walls, on the floor – "

"What about your espresso maker?" Christopher asked, completely serious.

Eddie laughed loudly as Owen shook his head. "Even if it's my espresso maker," the captain said. "It goes!"

"Get your chisels, your scrapers, and your demo bars!" TK announced as if he was a salesperson, making Kelly snicker as he hefted a demo bar. "And Mateo?" he held out a tool. "Here you go."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, no fair!" Marjan protested loudly as Mateo grinned and lifted the sledgehammer. "Why does he get the sledgehammer?"

"Because I called it on the ride over," Mateo smirked. "And today's my shoulder day."

"Yeah, right, Probie," Paul scoffed. "It has nothing to do with Thor?"

Mateo shrugged, experimentally swinging. "Also, Thor."

"Also, not Probie," Owen added, making everyone look at him. "Not anymore. When we open this firehouse, you are looking at Firefighter Mateo Chavez!"

Mateo's jaw dropped as the firefighters cheered. "Seriously?" he sputtered.

Owen nodded with a grin, and Sylvie whooped. "Group hug!"

Matt, Kelly, Grace, and Maddie watched with wide grins as the entirety of the 126 swarmed on Mateo, the young man protesting loudly as they smothered him. "I love happy endings," Maddie sighed happily.

"They're the best," Grace agreed.

Footsteps approached the 126, and Nancy's head poked out of the huddle. "Cap!" she darted away to meet Tommy. "You brought the whole squad!"

"The squad insisted," Tommy chuckled as Evie and Izzy waved.

Judd brightened, holding out his arms. "How are my favorite goddaughters doing, huh?"

"We're doing good," Evie nodded, then brightened when she looked past him. "Carlos!" she took off running.

Izzy followed her, and Judd turned with a small frown as Carlos held open his arms and laughed as the girls crowded him. "Well, OK, then," Judd sighed, accepting Tommy's hug instead.

***

"Alright, the soon-to-be firefighter gets first dibs!" Matt gestured dramatically to the charred shelves against the wall.

With one firm hit, Mateo used the sledgehammer to bring down the shelves, tons of charred wood crashing onto the ground. Paul proudly slapped him on the shoulder, then Judd and Marjan got to work breaking down the wood into smaller chunks. Just past them, Buck and Eddie hauled destroyed metal trolleys towards the bins, and Owen and TK carried wooden stools towards the dumpsters. Nancy and Sylvie swept behind everyone, leaving no ash behind.

Tommy and Grace watched Carlos help Christopher, Izzy and Evie put safety goggles on, and Grace turned to her friend. "Ms. Tommy, this mean you changed your mind?" she asked.

"The girls wouldn't have it any other way," Tommy smiled. "I have no idea how we're gonna make this work, but . . . these are my people. This is home."

"Yeah, it is," Grace agreed.

***

As it turned out, the espresso maker indeed had to go, and Owen watched mournfully as TK and Carlos worked together to drop it into the wheelbarrow. Tommy gave Owen a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, and Owen dropped his head onto her shoulder with a dramatic sigh. Tommy laughed loudly, giving him a tighter hug.

A muffled woof caught their attention, and they turned to see Buttercup trot past them and towards the deeper parts of the firehouse, where Matt and Kelly were working together to untangle the mess of cables and wires that remained. "Thanks, boy," Matt grinned, accepting the toolbox Buttercup carried as Kelly patted the dog's head.

Owen stepped back to watch Tommy take over cleaning the surfaces as Buck helped the kids start cleaning out the kitchen cabinets. He caught sight of Judd crouching on the ground near a familiar place, and with a heavy heart, he walked over to join him, bracing for the worst.

But his worry was for naught, and he smiled widely as Judd carefully brushed glass and ash away from the relatively unharmed photographs of the firefighters who had hung on the memorial wall. "Well, Cap," Judd smiled shakily, "looks like the boys pulled through."

Owen nodded, squeezing Judd on the shoulder. "They sure did."

Judd patted Owen's hand gratefully, when blinked when Owen's phone rang. "Who's calling on a day off?" he asked, surprised.

Owen looked at the Caller ID, and Judd watched as the captain swallowed. "Sorry, I gotta take this," he cleared his throat, walking to a more isolated part of the building. "Captain Strand."

"What's that about?" Tommy asked with a frown, leaning on her broom and watching Owen.

Judd shook his head. "I got no idea."

***

Maddie set aside her trash bag to stretch, wincing when she felt a muscle in her back pop. "Oh, the last time I moved this much, it was when I settled in Los Angeles," she muttered.

Buck snickered, dropping the remnants of a kitchen cabinet into the dumpster. "You'd never make it as a firefighter, Mads."

"Good thing I'm happy being a dispatcher," she countered.

Buck laughed and jogged back to the kitchen area, where Eddie and Christopher were sorting through busted cans. Just past them, Maddie saw Nancy crouched on the ground, staring long and hard at something on the floor. Curious, Maddie carefully made her way through the rubble to join her.

The happy face of Tim Rosewater smiled up at her, and Maddie smiled sadly, crouching next to Nancy. "Look at that," she said. "He made it out."

"Yeah, he did," Nancy smiled through her tears, fingers carefully brushing broken glass off the picture. "That's Tim for you. Pulled through thick and thin."

"I wish I could've met him," Maddie sighed. "From what everyone's said about him, he was great."

"He was amazing," Nancy nodded. "And he would've loved you."

"Really?" Maddie blinked.

"Yeah," Nancy chuckled. "I mean, you're Buck's sister, and he loved that Buck and Sylvie helped integrate the paramedics into the rest of the gang. But he would have teased the hell outta me because of you."

Maddie tilted her head. "Why's that?"

Nancy blushed, ducking her head. "This is not how I planned for this to go," she muttered.

Maddie slowly started to smile. "Planned for what to go?" she asked, feeling her heart speed up. Nancy muttered incoherently, and Maddie giggled. "Nancy – "

"Fine!" Nancy huffed, looking at her in embarrassment. "I've been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks now. Ever since that kid's birthday party. I wanted to do it that night after the 126 was bombed, but considering what happened – "

She was cut off when Maddie swooped in and kissed her, effectively stopping her from talking. Nancy froze for all of one second before she kissed Maddie in return, fingers winding through her hair. Maddie pulled back with a wide smile. "Ask me."

Nancy grinned. "Maddie Buckley, will you go out on a date with me?"

Maddie giggled gleefully, nodding. "Hell yes!"

Nancy laughed, tugging Maddie back for another kiss, completely ignoring the cheers from Marjan, Mateo, and Eddie.

***

"Alright," Matt leaned in and pointed at the wall. "Just take that hammer . . . there."

"Got it," Sylvie nodded, winding up and swinging.

Matt jumped backwards at the amount of force she used, watching the useless remains of the circuit breakers crash to the ground, and Kelly paused in shoveling metal shrapnel into a wheelbarrow. "You swung that harder than I expected," he remarked.

"Smash therapy," Sylvie shrugged, hefting the sledgehammer onto her shoulder and lifting her safety glasses. "Always recommend."

Matt and Kelly exchanged wary looks, then Matt cleared his throat. "As long as that's not swinging at us next."

Sylvie blinked at him. "Why would I?"

"Because you look like you want to," Kelly deadpanned.

Sylvie stared between the two of them, then she sighed and slung the hammer down, resting it against her leg. "Maybe next time, don't open up a conversation that is closed."

"Is it, though?" Matt couldn't help but ask.

"Yes, it is," Sylvie said curtly. "Yeah, Captain Tyson said what he said, but then he apologized, and believe it or not, he was sincere. So yes, conversation closed."

"He implied you were sleeping with Captain Strand!" Kelly protested, green eyes narrowed. "Sylvie, if he said that in front of anyone higher up, that would have ruined both of your careers!"

"Do you think I don't know that?" Sylvie snapped, a waver in her voice that Matt didn't expect. "I know exactly the kind of consequences that could've had, thank you very much!"

"Then why brush it off like that?" Matt asked, desperate to know.

"Because someone has said much worse than that to me!" Sylvie snarled. "And unlike Captain Tyson, I know they wouldn't feel an ounce of regret for it!"

Matt swallowed, feeling nauseous. "The person who made you leave Chicago."

Sylvie wilted, checking over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening in before taking a shaky breath. "Yeah," she whispered and nodded. "Yeah, that was part of it." Her hand clenched around the hammer. "And if it was brought up in front of the CFD brass . . . which officers do you think they would point fingers to?"

The blood drained from Matt's face, and Kelly knew he had to look similar. For so long after Sylvie had left, they had wondered if something they had done was the reason Sylvie was gone. No one agreed with that reasoning, and eventually, the thought died out for them. But to hear that it wasn't necessarily something they did, but something about them in general that had been part of why she left . . . because Kelly knew exactly who the brass would point to if they heard someone accuse Sylvie of sleeping with superior officers. "Us," he concluded, watching Sylvie swallow and nod. "Sylvie – "

"Dad?" TK's concerned voice made the three turn.

Sylvie turned to look in Owen's direction, seeing the captain swallow and nod. "Thank you," he said. "I'll be in touch again."

He hung up with a shaky exhale, and TK took a step forward. "Dad, who is it?" he asked in concern.

"Headquarters," Owen answered simply before clearing his throat. "Hey, everyone?" he called. "Can everyone stop for a few minutes? I have something to share."

As the firehouse crowded around, Sylvie felt a hand take each of hers, then Matt's voice whispered in her ear. "When we find out who said that to you, and we will, we will make sure it is their career that is ruined."

Sylvie shivered at the dark tone he used, and she caught Buck giving her a concerned look before Owen spoke again. "You all know I've been working as the special assistant to Deputy Chief Radford since the house was closed. Before the dust storm hit, he made me an offer . . . one any sane firefighter would have jumped on immediately. I couldn't. It's why I asked Casey to meet me after that meeting, because I needed someone to get my head on straight."

Matt made a face. "That's not quite the way you put it."

"No, I don't think it was," Owen agreed. "I wanted to know what you thought of the offer. And you were absolutely right. This isn't just a political game; it's keeping what was of upmost importance on my mind. The firefighters and the department. Someone had to navigate both."

"Where's this going, Cap?" Eddie frowned in confusion.

Owen took a deep breath. "After everything settled down yesterday, I called the deputy chief and gave him a few conditions regarding the offer. That was the responding call saying every condition was accepted."

"So what was the offer?" Carlos asked, arm slung around TK's shoulders.

Matt, however, was grinning widely. "No way."

"Deputy Chief Radford is retiring in no more than five months," Owen announced, and Judd's jaw dropped, realization sinking in. "Sooner, if possible. That is dependent on when I can find the officers who will run this house."

"You're kidding," Buck stared as TK's eyes lit up. "Cap?"

"Not for much longer," Owen admitted, smiling hesitantly. "Deputy Chief Radford asked me to be his successor . . . and my conditions were to work on getting this house reopened and for me to personally be in charge of finding the new officers. He accepted them this morning, so I accepted the promotion. When his retirement is official, I will be the department's new deputy chief."

"Oh, my God!" TK launched forward, laughing in glee and hugging Owen hard. "Dad!"

"That is awesome!" Buck leapt on Owen from the other side.

"Congrats, Cap!" Paul grinned widely.

Sylvie raced forward and wormed her way into the Squad hug, making Owen laugh in relief. "I take it this is OK with everyone?" he asked.

"Is it OK?" Judd scoffed, a wide grin on his face. "Look at what you did with this house, Cap! Imagine what you could do with the whole damn department!"

"That's what Chief Radford said, apparently!" Matt laughed.

"And you knew?" TK whirled on him.

Matt held up his hands defensively. "I was sworn to secrecy!"

"OK, hey, y'all, I call going down to the nearest store and finding something to toast this with," Nancy declared, holding up her hand. "Who's with me?"

"Uh, absolutely!" Marjan nodded, bounding over to her. "We need to celebrate, everyone!"

"Oh, and one more thing," Owen held up his hand, grinning as everyone turned to him. "Apparently, there's another first responders conference happening in Los Angeles this year . . . and Deputy Chief Radford says the 126 is going."

Buck's eyes widened. "So does that mean – ?"

"Unfortunately, I'm still not cleared for active duty for another week or so," Owen smirked, turning to a stunned Matt and Kelly. "So . . . do the two of you mind being active officers for a little while longer?"

"I don't have to stay with the 129?" Mateo perked up.

Owen grinned. "Every change these two made prior to the house shutting down is back in effect for the conference."

Marjan laughed gleefully. "Hell, yeah! Back on Squad, boys!"

"Four-man team again!" TK punched the air. "Let's go!"

"Rescue 126!" Paul chanted.

The rest of the firehouse joined in, and even the kids started to chant. Owen stepped back to watch as Sylvie dragged Matt and Kelly into the group while Grace, Maddie, and Carlos watched fondly. The pure relief on everyone's faces as they realized they would get their house back was worth all of the internal wrestling Owen had gone through to make this decision. In the end, Matt had been right all along: a good man and a good firefighter deserved to lead the department. It had to be someone who not only cared deeply for the department, but also knew how to navigate the political rings. Owen had that in spades from his time in New York, and he knew how to work both sides of the table. He didn't want some scumbag to potentially get the position and run the department into the ground. So he had called Radford and agreed to take the position as long as he got to pick his successors at the 126. Radford had agreed.

Now all I have to do, Owen thought as he watched Sylvie smile radiantly up at Matt and Kelly, the three tangled in a hug, is figure out the best way to convince them to move.

***

You all probably saw that coming the moment Matt was meeting with Owen instead of Billy XD Sorry, Billy - the only deputy chief Austin is going to get is Deputy Chief Strand!

I knew right away that the way this ends is with Owen climbing the ladder and working on getting Matt and Kelly to Austin. I understand why Owen is still at the 126 in canon, and I love that he is . . . but I have to admit, it would have been epic to see him in charge as the deputy chief. So . . . thanks to fanfiction, I can make that happen!

Next up, it's preparations to get to Los Angeles! And who knows . . . maybe we'll get the beginning of an episode. Who's ready for a treasure hunt?

graphic by marvelity