Fun fact: I started writing this chapter last night, but due to having to make a hard shut-down, I lost everything I had originally written, which was 4.5K words. I was worried that screwed with my motivation. I think 10.2K words says otherwise, don'tcha think?

The 126 - and consequently 51 and the 118 - deal with the fallout of Tim's death, one natural disaster bleeds into another, and two firehouses get a call to arms that is going to lead to one hell of a reunion.

Enjoy!

***

Tim Rosewater was dead, and the entire house was quiet in mourning.

Not a sound came from Firehouse 126. Not a sound came from the kitchen, typically always with someone searching through cabinets or the fridge. Not a sound came from the locker rooms, where some firefighters had already gone to prepare for leaving. Not a sound came from the rigs, parked on the apparatus floor, waiting to be used once more.

And not a sound came from the crews of Ladder 126, EMS 126, and Squad 9 as they sat together, each of them in their own little groups: Paul and Marjan, the woman with her hand tight on Paul's shoulder, his tight on the mug she had given him; Judd and TK, the veteran of the crew with his arms holding onto a pillow and his little brother as if they might disappear at any moment; and Buck and Nancy, the paramedic with a white-knuckled grip on the firefighter's hand.

Their silence was broken when Mateo's footsteps approached, and Paul looked over as the youngest of the team walked over as if in a trance. "That was quick," he remarked.

"They didn't ask me many questions," Mateo mumbled, finding a random chair to drop like a dead weight into. "Just what I saw. It didn't feel like we were in trouble."

Judd frowned. "Yeah, why would anyone be in trouble?"

"It was a freak accident," Marjan nodded in agreement.

"I don't know," Mateo shrugged. "I guess . . . maybe I always feel like I'm in trouble."

"Hey," Judd leaned forward. "This ain't your fault. This . . . this is . . . I mean . . . " He cleared his throat, and TK cuddled closer, resting his head on Judd's shoulder. Judd rested his chin on top of TK's head, squeezing his eyes shut. "This ain't nobody's fault," he said with conviction.

"I wonder if they notified his family yet," Buck said.

"His family's in Maryland." Nancy's voice was hushed, as if raising her voice in the slightest would ruin something else. "He came out here to go to UT, and he ended up staying. He was supposed to go see them this summer, but he changed his plan when he heard we would be getting another paramedic captain for the house. He wanted to get to know who it ended up being."

"Oh, my God," TK closed his eyes, knowing that would be yet another burden for Sylvie to bear. As if the poor chief paramedic didn't have enough already.

"Why did we leave him there?" Nancy demanded, looking around the firefighters. "Why? We wouldn't have done that with anybody else!"

"Because." Owen's hand rested on her shoulder, and Nancy gasped lightly, looking up to see the captain giving her a sympathetic, sorrowful look. "When one of us gets killed on a call, another house comes in and takes care of it. It's what we do. It's protocol."

Nancy swallowed hard. "Heroic measures, right up to the hospital doors!" she argued, her tears in her voice. "That's how we've been trained! We don't call it in the field! We should've stayed, and we should've been working on him!"

"Sylvie would've been working on him until her hands bled from it," Buck said softly. "I know it. But she didn't."

"Because there wasn't enough of him left to work on, Nancy," Judd finished the thought.

Nancy crumbled, her cries echoing in the room. TK wriggled from under Judd's arm, and the firefighter let him go. TK crossed the room quickly as Buck pulled one of his hands from Nancy's tight grip. The two engulfed Nancy in as tight a hug as they could manage, shielding the paramedic from view as best as they could, giving her as much privacy in her grief as the situation allowed. "I'm sorry," Owen whispered, knowing it wouldn't be enough. He straightened, looking around the room. "As you were told upstairs, there are people you can talk to . . . that you should talk to," he said. "Department's gonna make those resources available." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm calling this shift," he said. "Everybody go home."

They watched him head back up the stairs, and Paul frowned. "Is he OK?" he asked.

"Are any of us?" Marjan asked, her voice cracking.

Judd shifted, then offered the pillow he had clutched to his chest. Marjan all but snatched it from his hand, crushing it against her own chest. "Feels weird to just leave," Buck said. "We still have, like, 11 hours to go."

"Yeah," Judd sighed. "But that's protocol, too. They got the next crew here already."

"Yeah, but what about the volcano?" Mateo asked.

Paul simply held up the remote and unmuted the TV, and all of them stared incredulously at the news. "Geologists say seismic activity has begun returning to pre-eruption levels. Officials are cautiously optimistic that the worst is over, leaving Austin with quite a mess to clean up and a deadly reminder that sometimes even Mother Nature needs to let off steam."

Marjan snarled her anger, saying what everyone was thinking as they started their preparations for leaving. "Maybe now she can keep it bottled up for another couple million years!"

***

"Thank you, Captain Vega. We'll take care of it."

Tommy nodded absently, barely hearing the brass as they left the paramedic captains' office. She moved from her chair to the edge of her desk, sitting and staring at the picture of her daughters on her side of the bookcase.

She didn't know how long she was there before there was a soft knock on the door. "May I?" Judd asked.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded, not looking over.

She heard Judd take a seat. "How you doing?"

She scoffed. "I managed to get through that without weeping."

"That's good. If you need to weep now, don't mind me."

"They're sending a captain from the Baltimore FD to inform the family."

"That's good."

Tommy shook her head furiously. "It should be me."

"What, you gonna fly out to Baltimore?" Judd raised an eyebrow.

Tommy huffed derisively, moving from her desk back to her chair. "This . . . this was a mistake."

"What?" Judd asked.

"Thinking I could come back," Tommy gestured around the office. "I . . . I've been a terrible leader. I lost a member of my team today. I didn't even know him!"

"You ain't even been here a month yet, T," Judd reminded her.

"That's no excuse," Tommy argued vehemently. "The only real interaction I had with him was today, when I scolded him."

"Did he merit it?" Judd asked.

"That's not the point," Tommy deflected.

"That is the point," Judd shook his head.

She wilted. "No," she said. "I called him out for making promises to a patient. And then I did the same thing with my girls." She sniffed, recalling the conversation. "I lied to them, Judd. They were terrified for their mother being out there in the middle of all of that, and I told them not to worry, that everything was gonna be fine."

"That ain't lying to your girls," Judd assured her. "Look, your girls are eight years old. You told 'em what they needed to hear. You're very good at that."

"You think so?" Tommy raised an eyebrow.

"I do think so," Judd confirmed, smirking. "You told me I needed to marry Gracie, didn't you?"

Tommy rolled her eyes. "Doesn't take a genius."

"Ain't nobody calling you a genius." Judd sighed, leaning forward. "Look, I know that if your world hadn't fallen off of its axis, you wouldn't be in that chair. But it did, and you are. And I think that's where you wanna be."

Tommy swallowed hard. "I don't wanna feel like I've abandoned my family," she confessed.

"You haven't," Judd promised, gesturing out the window. "You added to it. And your family needs you."

Tommy looked out the window to see TK give Nancy a hug before standing and heading out of the living area. That left Buck, who helped Nancy get to her feet and led her towards the locker rooms. Tommy nodded once, then more firmly a second time. "Excuse me."

"Of course," Judd nodded.

Tommy stood from her chair and exited the office, heading for the staircase. She stopped once to peek into Owen's office, just to make sure the fire captain was handling everything OK. The lights were dim, and she could barely see he had changed into more casual AFD clothing as he shut everything down. As the computer light disappeared, she saw him turn to a corner of his office she previously hadn't looked . . . and she could barely see blonde hair underneath the bundles of blankets covering the chief paramedic of the house. Tommy averted her eyes as Owen crouched next to Sylvie, and she hastily went down the stairs, not wanting to observe the private moment longer than she should.

When she arrived at the locker rooms, she found Buck walking out. "How is she?" she asked quietly.

"She just lost her partner," Buck pointed out. "There's . . . I don't want to ever know for myself how she's feeling because I think that would break me." Tommy winced, nodding in agreement. "She needs her captain's support."

"She'll have it," Tommy promised.

"Good," Buck smile faintly. "Take care, Captain."

"You, too, Buck," Tommy nodded, watching him go. When she couldn't see Buck anymore, she stepped into the locker room, finding Nancy folding Tim's belongings robotically. "Hey," she greeted softly.

Nancy gave her a quick look, then sniffed, nodding at the picture taped in Tim's locker. "He was obsessed with Buster Keaton," she said. "Is that weird?"

Tommy looked at the picture, then blinked. "He looked a little like him."

Nancy examined the picture again, then giggled faintly. "I never noticed that before."

Tommy took a deep breath, hoping her next words gave Nancy some peace of mind. "I got a call from the hospital," she said. "The young man Tim was treating with Sylvie, he's gonna walk again."

It brought a small smile to Nancy's face. "Thank you for telling me that," she said. "Tim was a good EMT. He was weird, but he was a good EMT."

Tommy nodded in agreement. She hadn't worked with Tim long, but from what she had seen, he cared for all of the patients in his care. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Nancy," she said, putting her hand on Nancy's back. "Our loss."

Nancy nodded, then started. "Oh, no . . . Buster!"

Tommy did a double take. "Keaton?"

Nancy shook her head. "His cat! Who's gonna feed his cat?"

Tommy swallowed. She hadn't even known that about one of her paramedics. "OK," she whispered, gently tugging Nancy. "Alright."

Nancy fell against Tommy, her body shaking with sobs. Tommy stroked her back calmly, struggling to keep her own emotions under control. She had to stay strong for the last member of her team.

She could weep later.

***

"Oh, thank God."

"What?" Matt looked up when he heard Mouch's exclamation, then straightened when he saw the news. "Turn it up, Mouch."

Mouch followed the captain's order, drawing everyone's attention to the TV. "Geologists say seismic activity has begun returning to pre-eruption levels," the report said. "Officials are cautiously optimistic that the worst is over, leaving Austin with quite a mess to clean up and a deadly reminder that sometimes even Mother Nature needs to let off steam."

A loud snort came from the counter. "'Let off steam,'" Violet mocked. "Yeah, tell that to the people who lost a loved one and see how much they appreciate that pun."

Gianna raised her mug in agreement, and the two paramedics clinked them together. "No kidding," Stella glowered at the TV. "A volcano is no joke."

"I still can't believe a volcano, of all things, happened in Texas," Tony shook his head.

"They had that solar storm in the spring, too," Mouch pointed out.

Capp snorted. "If it's not in Austin, it's in Los Angeles. Remember that tsunami last year?"

"Hard not to," Ritter nodded. "And that 7.1 earthquake the year before."

"And didn't they just have a mudslide?" Gianna asked.

Kelly, in his usual seat by Matt's side, shook his head in disbelief. "The day any of those happen in Chicago is the day I leave the CFD," he announced.

"Then let's hope that never happens," Boden remarked, folding his arms and looking at the TV. "I'm just glad the worst is over down there."

"There's still the recovery and the clean-up," Matt pointed out.

"Was there a casualty count?" Violet asked.

"None that I saw or heard," Mouch shook his head.

"I'll look it up," Gallo volunteered, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check.

"Seriously, though," Stella looked around. "Imagine if we got one of those disasters here in Chicago."

"We already had that infection go through the city last year," Matt shook his head. "I don't want to think about anything Los Angeles or Austin went through sweeping here."

"What an adrenaline rush to work through one of those, though," Kelly whistled.

Matt looked at his best friend and snorted. "Adrenaline junkie."

"Your adrenaline junkie," he smiled cheekily.

Matt swatted Kelly with the report he was filling out. "Shut up."

"Nope," Kelly snickered.

Boden shook his head fondly as everyone else grumbled their exasperation at the pair. Ever since Sylvie's departure from the CFD, the bond between the truck captain and the squad lieutenant seemed stronger than ever. They were constantly at each other's side, on and off the job. If Matt had a construction gig, Kelly often tagged along to see how he could help. If Kelly had a job elsewhere in the city, Matt volunteered his aid. Matt was often at the Squad table when they weren't on calls, and it was more common to see the two in one officer's quarters than the two separated by a single wall. The only time it seemed they weren't attached at the hip was when their crews were on separate calls. If Boden didn't know the two men as well as he did, he would be extremely worried about their increasing codependency.

"OK, the numbers are still coming in, but it looks like right now, the confirmed death count is 31," Gallo announced, drawing attention back to him. "23 civilians, three police officers, three firefighters, and two paramedics."

"Two paramedics?" Gianna balked.

"Must've been a lot of up close work in the field," Violet murmured, looking worried.

"And it sounds like the volcano just started calming down," Herrmann pointed out. "Who knows what the final count is actually gonna be."

"I'm not looking forward to hearing that," Stella grimaced.

"Me, neither," Ritter murmured, looking far too pale for Herrmann's comfort.

Matt noticed his candidate didn't look too good, either; he looked almost green. "All good, Gallo?" he asked carefully.

"Yeah," he nodded too quickly to be believed. "I'm just trying to see if I can find the house numbers for the firefighters."

Matt frowned, but accepted Gallo's explanation. He, too, was curious about if all of the losses were from the same house or if they were spread out. "Cruz?" Kelly's voice interrupted his thought process. "You don't look too good, either."

Matt swiveled in his chair to see that sure enough, Joe looked like a kitten had been gutted in front of him. "Sorry, boss," he cleared his throat, standing quickly from his chair. "I just realized I needed to call Chloe for something . . . it's about the baby."

Before Kelly could open his mouth again, the man was out of the room and heading to the apparatus floor. "At this time of night?" Mouch raised an eyebrow, checking his watch.

"Has everything been all right during shift, Severide?" Boden asked in concern.

"We've been running smoothly all day," Kelly nodded, frowning. "I'll ask him again later."

"Let me know if anything comes up," Boden nodded.

"Will do."

Matt slowly turned in his chair to look from Gallo, still furiously searching on his phone, to Ritter, still looking like he had learned doomsday was coming, to where Joe had disappeared. He completed his turn by looking at Kelly. "What did we miss?" he asked lowly.

"I'm not sure," Kelly shook his head; Matt could almost see the gears in his head spinning. "Not to mention, I know Cruz has had conversations with those two before . . . when did they start thinking on the same wavelength?"

Matt shook his head. "No idea."

***

One of the phones buzzed on the table next to his chair, and Owen set his tumbler down to see which it was. He hesitated when he saw it was Sylvie's phone that was making the noise, but he remembered her saying that very few people outside of the 126 had her number. If someone was calling her, someone who knew her number had heard about the volcano.

So he picked up her phone, looking at the Caller ID. He recognized the name and nodded, pressing answer. "Brett's phone," he said.

"Is she OK?" a very panicked voice demanded. "We saw here in Chicago what was happening with the volcano, and the casualty counts are coming in, and we saw there were paramedics that were killed, and there weren't any names, so I just had to know – "

"Cruz, this is Sylvie's captain speaking," Owen interrupted gently, his other hand returning to scratching Buttercup's head. "She was not one of the casualties. I was with her the entire time the past twelve hours. There isn't a scratch on her."

The massive sigh of relief on the other end made him smile. "Oh, thank God. That was my biggest fear when I heard the number."

Owen smiled sadly. "Sylvie's a fighter, Cruz. She's incredible."

"She is," Joe agreed. "I take it she's not available right now, but . . . can you tell her I called?"

"I absolutely will," Owen promised. "She'll likely need someone to talk to."

"I'm here for her," Joe said. "And, uh . . . assuming she ever calls Casey or Severide. I know they'll pick up."

Owen chuckled. "I'll see if I can nudge her their way."

"Thank you, sir," Joe told him. "For more than just that. I still don't know what made Sylvie leave Chicago, but thank you for giving her a place at your house. It means a great deal that she landed somewhere she's appreciated."

"I'm a lucky man to have her in my house," Owen responded. "Take care of yourself, Cruz."

"You as well, sir."

The click that signaled the end of the call echoed in Owen's ear, and he placed Sylvie's phone back on the table, not before checking the time to see how long Sylvie had been in the shower. It had taken longer than expected to leave the firehouse, with the interviews with the brass and arranging everything for the next shift. Sylvie had been distraught the moment she had seen Tim's dead body on the ground, and Owen had whisked her from the scene as quickly as he could. When the brass had tried to interview her alone, he could have sworn Sylvie would have broken his hand, she had gripped so tightly. Even as the firehouse was in the process of swapping shifts, she hadn't left his office, desperate to be near the one other person who had been at the scene of Tim's death with her, desperate to know the one other person who had walked away was still there. Owen had acted as her literal rock in getting her to leave the firehouse, and he was still surprised she had left to the shower when they got back to the house.

Still, he had an idea of what she was doing: washing the grime of the day from her while also stewing with the guilt of being the surviving paramedic. He had gone through that mindset once before, after all. He just hadn't had anyone who understood that kind of loss with him before. Now Sylvie had someone: himself.

He heard footsteps behind him, and he turned slightly to see Sylvie timidly approaching, her arms wrapped around herself as if she could shield herself from the horrors of the day. The CFD shirt she wore dwarfed her, and her hair hung in damp curls. She looked far younger, far frailer than she normally did. "I figured you might want something stronger than wine," he gestured to the table, where another tumbler of tequila sat.

Sylvie smiled tightly, reaching over and picking it up; Owen noticed her trembling hand. "You're not wrong," she agreed, voice hoarse from crying.

Owen patted the seat next to him. "One of the best things about being in remission," he held up his glass. "I can drink tequila with you now."

Sylvie snickered quietly, obliging him in clinking their glasses together. "Thanks." She took a sip, then looked up in the air. "This is . . . "

She trailed off, and Owen looked up as well, watching ash dance in the wind. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked.

"In a way," Sylvie admitted. "Probably not the best idea to breathe in volcanic ash, though."

Owen smirked. "What's the worst thing that could happen?" he asked sarcastically. "I could get more cancer?"

"Yes, actually," Sylvie raised an eyebrow.

Owen scoffed, looking down into his glass. This was the most he had heard Sylvie speak since Tim had died, and she still felt stiff as a board. "Sylvie, what happened . . . " He trailed off, feeling her tense even more where her knee was pressed against his. "Where Tim was alive one minute and the next, he wasn't? It was just like last time." Sylvie turned to look at him, surprised, and Owen smiled bitterly. "You said it's not gonna end well to bottle stuff up. Well, I'm gonna unbottle it, because I think you need to hear it. I remember the ash and the dust that day. It didn't . . . " He half-heartedly gestured to the ash twirling around them. "Didn't look beautiful like this."

"Owen," Sylvie swallowed. "You don't have to do this."

"I do," Owen nodded. "I'm glad you're OK. I'm grateful it wasn't you that died today. I'm still pissed it was one of our men, but I'm glad I didn't lose one of my kids. It's not a surprise I came out alive, though. It seems I'm invincible."

"Invincible?" Sylvie repeated dubiously.

"Well, look at me," Owen snorted. "You know, when I got lung cancer in New York . . . first thing I felt? Relief, that the universe had finally evened the score for me making it out that day. Everything made sense." He looked down into his glass. "Now that I'm in remission, nothing does."

He tossed back a drink, then heard Sylvie take a deep breath. "It's not the first time I've lost a member of my house before," she said softly. "It's the second time in two years, though. The first time, I wasn't anywhere near where the accident happened. I was in an ambulance of my own, rushing to get my arm fixed. I was in the hospital when Otis died, but I was in a different room, separated from my house. I ran so far from Chicago after it happened. This time . . . " She trailed off, her voice seeming to fail her momentarily. "I watched it happen right in front of me," she whispered, her voice trembling. "He was right next to me, Owen. I didn't even see the ejecta, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground. And when I looked up . . . " She gulped, then downed a large swig of tequila. "He was where I had been." She choked on her tears, scrubbing angrily at her face. "That was supposed to be me on the ground!" she cried angrily, and Owen hastily took the glass from her hands before she could drop it. "Owen, that was supposed to be me!"

Owen wrapped his arms around Sylvie, tugging her close as she cried in earnest. "I know it was," he whispered, tucking her head under his chin. "I know it was."

"He died instead of me!" Sylvie burst out. "It should have been me!"

Owen closed his eyes, feeling them sting not from the ash and dust, but from the raw pain that radiated from the strong woman who crumbled in his arms. "I've got you," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "I've got you."

Sylvie's wails never stopped as she clung to him, and Owen didn't stop whispering meaningless words as he tried to calm her. Poor Buttercup whimpered as he looked up at them, his head on Sylvie's knees as he tried to offer his own comfort to the paramedic.

***

Footsteps pounded the roads of Austin, which were still bare in the early hours of the morning. Pedestrians barely spared the two firefighters a glance, ignoring their harsh breaths as they passed. Buck was the first to make it to the top of the steps, and he put his hands on his hips, taking deep breaths to try and calm his heart. He wiped a hand across his brow, feeling how drenched he was in sweat.

Mateo stumbled on the last step, and Buck reached out without hesitation, stopping Mateo from crashing face first onto the steps. Mateo grabbed onto his support eagerly, his breath coming in gasps. Buck swallowed hard and pulled Mateo in close, the young firefighter shaking not with exhaustion, but with sorrow.

***

The gym firefighters often frequented was mostly empty right when it opened, but the sounds of gloved fists on pads echoed within minutes of the opening hour. Paul remained upright, an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force as Marjan's punches and jabs quickened, the woman's teeth gritted as she put all her effort into her swings. Eventually, they became more sporadic, and Paul heard her breathing eventually hitch.

Marjan finally broke, and Paul held out his arms, letting her fall. Marjan leaned against his chest, her cries ringing in his ears as he hugged her tightly.

***

When TK entered the house, he tried to shut the door as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb anyone. When he turned around from locking it, he found he hadn't needed to be so quiet.

Carlos was sitting on the steps, looking down at him with a look that made TK want to cry all over again. The firefighter climbed the stairs and dropped between Carlos's legs, curling into his boyfriend's arms. Carlos nuzzled the top of his head comfortingly, and TK closed his eyes, a few tears slipping out as Carlos held him close.

***

Judd placed his keys on the table at his house, then made his way through the halls to the bedroom. Grace was in bed when he slipped inside, and he shut the door before climbing into bed. He thought Grace was already asleep.

Instead, she reached for his hand and tucked his arm around her, and Judd smiled as his wife rested against him.

***

Tommy placed her bags, plus one extra, on the counter when she got home. The first thing she did was open her daughters' bedroom door to a crack, peering inside. She smiled in satisfaction when she saw both were sound asleep, oblivious to the chaos that had occurred the previous night.

The second thing she did was pull a bowl from the cabinets and open the fridge door. She poured a generous helping of milk into the bowl, then set the bowl down on the counter. She unlatched the extra bag and stepped back.

Buster the cat, named by Tim after Buster Keaton, padded out of his carrier and went right to the milk, lapping eagerly at it. Tommy smiled happily, gently stroking the newest member of her family and watching him drink.

***

Neither Owen nor Sylvie knew how long they sat out on the patio in the ash and the dust, but judging by how Owen's eyes burned and how Sylvie's throat hurt, they had been out there far longer than they should have. "Joe Cruz called before you came out," Owen finally said. "They saw the news of the volcano in Chicago and heard about the casualties. He wanted to make sure you weren't one of the paramedics who died. I said I'd tell you he called."

"I'll get back to him." Sylvie's voice was raspy. "Just . . . not right now." Owen nodded in acceptance, and Sylvie took a deep, shuddering breath. "This might sound childish . . . is there any way we can just camp in the living room?" she asked timidly. "I don't want to be alone in my room."

Owen smiled. "I don't think either of us should be alone tonight after what we saw." He squeezed her. "Who claims Buttercup?"

At the sound of his name, the dog perked up, and Sylvie giggled, reaching down to scratch his ears. "I'll wrestle you for him."

Owen laughed. "You're on, Sylvie."

***

Christopher, the little devil, was still giggling hysterically when Eddie wrenched open the door to his house and glared down the ginger woman smirking at him. "I hate you so much right now," he growled.

"I love you, too, Eddie," Taylor smiled sweetly.

"We got him!" Christopher crowed from the table where the Hildy coffeemaker was sitting.

"We sure did, little guy," Taylor winked.

Eddie sighed, standing back and letting Taylor step inside. "Maddie put you up to this, didn't she?"

"Of course she did," Taylor snickered, walking over to Christopher and accepting the hug he offered. "She's on shift right now but figured it wouldn't cause too much harm to give you a little surprise."

"Dad still hasn't plugged the video games back in yet," Christopher informed Taylor.

"Oh, he hasn't?" Taylor raised an eyebrow. "And here I was, thinking I might finally try to beat you at Mario Kart."

Eddie shook his head, unable to stop the grin from forming on his face. When he had seen Taylor at Maddie's door three months ago, he never thought the bold reporter would be one of his few friends outside of the 118. While Maddie was still the one that was at his house the most, Taylor was the one who came when the brunette was on shift. She was quick, she was witty, and she matched Eddie barb for stinging barb. She was his third best friend after the Buckleys.

That didn't mean he was going to instantly forgive her for pranking him with a Hildy. "Yeah, it may take me a few days to plug that back in," he gave the console a scathing glare.

Taylor smirked, but it faded. "When I left the station, there was an update from Austin," she revealed.

Eddie looked up worriedly. "Maddie and I saw that on the news the other evening," he said. "What happened?"

"It's stopping," she answered, pulling her phone out and tapping something. "Here."

Eddie took her phone, tilting it on the side so he could see the newsreel playing. "Geologists say seismic activity has begun returning to pre-eruption levels. Officials are cautiously optimistic that the worst is over, leaving Austin with quite a mess to clean up and a deadly reminder that sometimes even Mother Nature needs to let off steam."

His eyebrows shot up. "'Let off steam?'" he repeated. "What the – ?"

"Yeah, they need to work on their bedside manner," Taylor agreed. "But it's good news, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Eddie sighed. "First a mudslide here, then a volcano in Austin. What's next, a hurricane?"

"Don't tempt Mother Nature, Diaz."

Eddie opened his mouth to respond when his phone buzzed in his back pocket. He frowned, reaching back and pulling out his phone, seeing the FaceTime notification. He quickly opened it, surprised by the call. "Buck?" he asked.

"Hey, Eds." Buck's smile was weak, and he looked utterly exhausted. His eyes were also very red, which put Eddie on instant alert. "Hope I'm not calling too late."

"Is that Bucky?" Christopher perked up.

"Yeah, it is," Eddie looked up. "Hey, Buck, Christopher and Taylor are here."

Buck's smile was a bit more genuine that time. "Oh, I could use some familiar faces."

Eddie's concern rose another few notches, and he placed his phone on the table so all three of them could fit in the frame. "There we go."

"Hey, Buck!" Taylor waved.

"Bucky!" Christopher cheered, waving enthusiastically. "Hi!"

"Hey, Superman," Buck smiled warmly. "Hi, Taylor. Maddie said something about getting Eddie a Hildy?"

Eddie groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as Taylor and Christopher, the traitors, started laughing all over again. "I swear, if this gets to the 118 before my shift tomorrow . . . "

"Oh, we're keeping this in the inner circle," Taylor declared. "Only we get to taunt you with this."

"Great."

"Bucky?" Christopher tilted his head. "You look sad."

"Uh . . . " Buck took a deep breath. "Yeah, kid. I probably do. It's . . . it was a really rough shift. The roughest I've had in a long time."

"What happened?"

Buck looked hesitant to answer, and Eddie felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him. That look on Buck's face . . . he'd seen it before in the army, right before he was told one of his comrades had been killed in action. "Buck," he swallowed hard. "How many . . . ?"

"One," Buck answered. "Just one. But it was enough."

Taylor seemed to understand, judging by how quickly her eyes widened and she covered her mouth. Christopher looked confused as he looked from Buck to Eddie to Taylor and back, but he fidgeted in his seat. "Can we help?" he asked.

"You're helping already, Superman," Buck smiled. "I just needed to see your faces. I wish I could get a hug, but alas, I'm a little too far away."

"We could always come to you!" Christopher grinned.

Buck snickered. "That'd be wonderful, Christopher. Not sure how feasible right now, but you'd enjoy it down here."

"And we could finally meet TK and Sylvie!" Christopher added, looking up at Eddie.

And God, was he tempted. "We'll need to see when we could make a trip work," Eddie said, making Christopher cheer. "Maybe Maddie and I could pitch in together, and we could make it work."

"God, if you could, I could use that," Buck sighed. "I love this house, don't get me wrong, but I miss you guys, too."

"You've still got us, though," Taylor said confidently. "We're not going anywhere."

"Unless it's to visit you!" Christopher chirped.

Buck laughed. "Thanks, guys. I needed this chat."

"We're here for you any time, Buck," Eddie promised, side-eyeing Taylor.

The woman, bless her, took his cue effortlessly. "Hey, Christopher," she nudged him. "How about we get this troublemaker ready for your dad?"

Christopher's giggles followed Eddie as he disappeared into the hall. "What happened, Buck?" he asked.

Buck's face fell. "One of our paramedics was killed in the line of duty last night," he said. "Volcanic ejecta. There was nothing left of him for Sylvie to work on. He died on impact."

"Oh, God, Buck," Eddie closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry. How are you doing?"

"I'm, uh . . . " Buck took a deep breath. "I mean, I didn't know Tim as well as the rest of the house, but we've all been spending time together outside of work to get to know each other. I feel like I knew him enough. He wasn't a member of my crew, but the entire house has been hit hard. Especially Nancy. She was almost catatonic when we got back to the house."

"And Sylvie?" Eddie asked.

Buck bit his lip. "I don't know," he admitted. "She . . . hasn't said much all day. According to Cap, that's pretty much how she's been since the accident. It's not like her at all. Cap's keeping a close eye on her, but . . . TK and I haven't been able to talk to her."

Eddie sighed sadly. He had only heard Sylvie speak, and this did not sound like the happy, sunny woman he had heard. "Tell the house I'm sorry for your loss. Is there anything else I can do?"

"Just keep your phone on you?" Buck asked hopefully. "I mean . . . I have no clue where we're going from here, but – ?"

"Hey," Eddie gave him a look. "Anything you need, I'm just a phone call away."

"You got it," Buck smiled. "Thanks, Eds."

"Any time, Buck. Take care of yourself."

"I will," he promised. "You, too."

The call ended, and Eddie sighed, leaning back against the wall. The world couldn't give his best friend a break for one moment, could it?

***

Sylvie: I'm OK. Lucky, but OK.

That had been the only thing Joe received since the news of Pilot Knob. Gallo and Ritter had looked like the weight of the world was off their shoulders when Joe had told them Sylvie was not one of the casualties, but Joe was still worried. Maybe she had been running short on time, but he had hoped to get a longer message from her.

He was aware that every time he checked his phone, hoping to hear one more time from her, Kelly was watching him to see if there was anything wrong. As far as Joe knew, there wasn't anything wrong. Without being able to directly hear Sylvie's voice, he had no idea how his sister was doing.

When the bells went off, calling for Truck 81 and Squad 3 to assist Engine 40, Joe tugged on his turnout gear and jumped into the back of the rig, glad to have a call to take his mind off Sylvie. "Hey, Cruz," Kelly looked over his shoulder. "If something's going on, you know you can tell us."

"Yeah, I know, Lieutenant," Joe nodded, biting his lip. "This is just something that needs to stay with me for right now."

He could see the bewildered look Capp shared with Tony in the rearview mirror, but Kelly nodded slowly. "Copy that," the lieutenant said.

Joe sighed, slumping back in his seat. Why didn't you tell them where you are, Sylvie? he wondered.

***

"I regret even thinking what I did three days ago."

Bobby folded his arms, watching the newsreel in the firehouse. "These wildfires could not come at a worse time for firefighters in Texas. You may recall that, just a few days ago, the Plot Knob volcano erupted."

"Whoa," Hen blinked. "A volcano?"

"Crazy," Chimney whistled. "Still can't believe it didn't happen here."

"You'll be glad it didn't," Eddie scowled.

Bobby silently reached up, squeezing Eddie's shoulder supportively. Their entire circle – himself, Athena, May, Josh, Maddie, and Carla – had been informed of the loss Buck's firehouse sustained in the volcano, and just like Eddie, Bobby wished there was something he could do to help his former firefighter. "We'll keep an eye on this," he decided.

"Do we need to?" Hen frowned.

Bobby nodded to the TV as the reel continued. " . . . including surrounding counties, and even states are being . . . " "Check your records and see if you wanna be on special deployment or not," he said. "Who knows how far departments will be called."

Eddie couldn't smother a grin. "If I'm not on it, put me there, Cap."

Bobby grinned right back. "You got it, Diaz."

***

With a slam of the back doors, the yells of firefighters and first responders became muffled, and Sylvie let herself collapse on the floor of the EMS rig. Muscles she didn't know she had hurt, and her eyes stung from the ash and smoke in the air. The 126 had been on the front lines of the San Angelo wildfires for three days now, which had been two days after San Angelo called for reinforcements in the state. Now the wildfires were progressing even further, and every station in Texas had a shift working the lines. Sylvie had just been relieved from the medical tent for a break.

And boy, was she breaking.

Radford had pulled their shift for seventy-two hours following Tim's death, which had left Sylvie to stew at the house, safe with Owen and Buck, with what had occurred at the frat party. She had replayed those last moments on a constant loop in her head, trying to figure out what she could have done differently, what should have gone differently. The only conclusion she could come to was that Tim wouldn't have died if it had just been her working on Spence, and her alone. That didn't make her survivor's guilt decrease. If anything, it made her feel even worse.

When they had gotten the call to reinforce San Angelo, she had thrown herself into working at the medical tent, refusing to think about anything else. All she kept her mind on was the patient she helped, moving to the next patient, then a firefighter who needed observation because of dehydration, to another patient. Buck and TK were constantly on the mountain doing search and rescue, as they were the in-demand heavy rescue pair, and Judd, Marjan, Paul, and Mateo were right on the lines trying to stop the fires. Owen was at the command center, their section chief, and Tommy and Nancy went from medical tent to medical tent. Even Grace and Carlos had come with the first responders, Grace with the dispatchers to coordinate between sections, Carlos to help with the evacuation efforts. It was absolute chaos. It was exactly what Sylvie needed.

Except for when she got these momentary breaks, and the reality of the outside world came crashing down on her.

She tucked herself into the back corner of the ambulance, trying to get her heavy breathing under control. Her eyes stung, and she squeezed them shut, trying to avoid getting more smoke in them. All that did was cause the memory of volcanic ejecta slamming into one of her paramedics to play on repeat, making her whimper and bury her head in her knees.

It should have been me, she repeated. It was supposed to be me.

The shouts of the first responders outside, their panicked calls for aid, made Sylvie's head spin and nausea climb in her stomach. Before she could think about what she was doing, she fumbled for her phone. The last call echoed in her ears before she hit one of her contacts at random.

"Hold the line!"

***

A quick glance at his phone made Matt sigh and rub his forehead in annoyance. Paperwork didn't use to take so little time, he thought, tossing his phone back onto his desk. It had only been twenty minutes since he last checked the time, meaning it was now only 1:30 in the morning and not 1:10. The majority of the house was in their bunks, since the last call had only been for Truck 81 and Engine 51 to assist Firehouse 20 at a call. When Matt checked out the blinds, he saw every bunk filled. A light was still on in Boden's office, meaning the battalion chief was likely still awake. And here Matt was, still finishing his report.

Out of nowhere, his phone started to buzz, and he sighed tiredly, filling in another part of the report as he reached for his phone and answered without checking the Caller ID. "Casey."

"Matt," a voice he had longed to hear for months whimpered, causing him to drop his pen in shock. "Oh, my God – "

"Sylvie," he breathed, pushing his chair back and standing up. "Are you – ?"

"I don't know," she choked, and Matt was out the door without hesitating. "I just – I didn't even think, and the last week has just been . . . oh, my God – "

Her whimpers grew louder, and he could hear her harsh breathing. "Sylvie, breathe," he ordered quietly, keeping his voice low and opening the door to Kelly's office as quietly and quickly as he could. "Breathe for me, OK?"

The moment the door opened, Kelly startled awake from where he had reclined on his bunk, and he squinted in the darkness. "Case?" he slurred.

"Sylvie, listen to me," Matt hissed; Kelly shot upright, and Matt nodded, jerking his head out towards the apparatus floor. He didn't wait to see if Kelly followed him out, he already knew the squad lieutenant would be on his heels. "Just breathe, OK? Breathe."

"I'm trying," she gulped, and Matt believed her. He could hear her inhaling desperately. "I'm, uh . . . not in the best place to get as much air as I can right now."

"OK, slow down," Matt told her, stepping out from the apparatus floor and onto the drive, as far from any openings into the firehouse as he could get. He had just stepped on the concrete when Kelly stepped out of the doors, shutting them behind him as he shrugged his jacket on. "If it's hard to breathe, slow down. Slow breaths, deep breaths. You hear me?" When Kelly reached him, he switched the call to speaker phone, allowing Kelly to hear Sylvie manage to get her breathing under control. "There you go," he said softly. "Better?"

" . . . a little," Sylvie whispered, sniffing. "I'm, uh . . . not in the best spot right now."

"You could be in a black hole, and we wouldn't care," Matt told her firmly.

"Worried out of our minds about what you're doing in a black hole, though," Kelly pointed out.

A strangled laugh came from Sylvie. "Thanks. That's helping . . . a little."

"Tell us how else we can," Matt said, lowering to sit against Otis's memorial, placing his phone on the ground between him and Kelly.

Sylvie took another deep breath, which gave Kelly the time to sit down as well. "Um . . . well, this last week has been . . . it's been hell." She was quiet for a few seconds. "We lost one of the paramedics at our house," she said, making Kelly blanch. "Happened right in front of me, too. Killed instantly. His funeral's in three days."

"Oh, my God," Kelly whispered hoarsely, and Matt looked at his best friend in concern, reaching out to put his hand on his knee supportively. Kelly had once confided in him that Sylvie reminded him of Leslie Shay, his former roommate and best friend . . . who had been killed in the line of duty. To hear Sylvie had been that close to another brush with death would be a hard hit. "Are you – ?"

"I walked away fine," Sylvie said, then snorted. "Well, I say 'fine.' Physically, not a scratch on me. Nothing at all. Which . . . how did I walk away from that perfectly fine on the outside?"

"But broken on the inside?" Matt guessed.

She sniffed. "You know, I thought Otis's death was hard," she said, and Matt flinched. He had lost so many of his firefighters over the years, through death or horrific accidents. There was something about Otis's that still hit close to home. "He was my best friend, one of my roommates . . . but I wasn't there when the accident happened. I saw him for a split second after he was injured, and I didn't see him die. With Tim, I was right there. I could have done something. I don't know what, but I should have been able to do something!"

Her voice was getting close to hysterics again, and Matt leaned forward. "Sylvie, hey," he urged. "Listen to me, Sylv. Take a moment, OK? Neither of us are going anywhere. Take your time."

They could hear her swallow and work to calm herself down again. "There you go," Kelly said. "Take your time."

"I've had patients crash on me before," she said brokenly. "I've had them die on the way to the hospital doors. I've never had a member of my house, let alone one under my command, die in front of my eyes before."

Matt closed his eyes, hearing the heartbreak in her tone. How long has she been sitting with this? he couldn't help but wonder. "It's the worst feeling on a shift," he said. "When you run over the situation countless times, trying to find the one answer where the person walked away. And it's a miserable feeling when you come to the conclusion that there . . . isn't a way to answer it."

A defeated whimper came from Sylvie. "I hate that conclusion."

"It's the worst in the world," Matt agreed with a bitter chuckle. "And that burden never goes away."

"How do you sit with it?" Sylvie's voice was barely audible.

Matt took a deep breath, looking up at Kelly, who looked a few seconds from cracking. "You find the people willing to sit with you, too," he answered. "That strength can go a long way."

Kelly swallowed and nodded in agreement. Matt had been there for him when Shay died, he had been there for Matt when Borelli was injured as badly as he had been, and they had leaned on each other when Otis had died. "And I left the two of you in the dust when Otis died," Sylvie said sadly.

"You had the chaplain to move with," Matt defended her.

"That's no excuse. I could have stayed a little longer to help the house the weeks following his death. And instead, I went off to be someone I wasn't."

"It's in the past, Sylvie," Kelly told her. "We don't hold that against you a single bit."

She sighed. "God, I hate this."

Matt laughed, startled. "Yeah, hearing your voice for the first time in months? A little surprising."

"And reminding me how goddamn much I miss you," Kelly's voice was rough.

"Like hell," Sylvie agreed.

Matt closed his eyes, trying to keep his emotions under control. He had a feeling if one of them broke down, the rest of them would join in. "Is there anything else we can do for you, Sylvie?" he asked.

"We've pretty much determined there isn't anything we wouldn't do for you," Kelly added.

There was a muffled shout on Sylvie's end of the line, then her sharp inhale. "Look, we're in the middle of something . . . huge," she said, sounding like she was in a rush. "And I don't know how long I'm gonna be out here. If I get the chance, I want to call again. I don't want to go this long ever again without calling."

"Oh, thank God," Kelly let out in a rush.

"Yeah, no argument from us," Matt agreed wholeheartedly.

She giggled. "But, uh . . . depending on how I'm feeling when this is done . . . " She took a deep breath. "Any chance you have some leave stored up?"

Matt's head snapped up so quickly, he worried he might have broken his neck. Judging by the wide-eyed look Kelly had, he'd had the same reaction. "You want us to come out?"

"I don't know if I'm ready to face everyone in Chicago again," Sylvie said miserably. "But I want to see you two again. It hurt to leave, but leaving the two of you just broke me."

Matt swallowed hard. "Yeah," he nodded. "You say the word, and we'll be out wherever you are."

"We'll go to Grissom to make sure we can," Kelly added, not joking at all.

Sylvie giggled. "He'd make that happen." The shouting came closer, and they could hear Sylvie move around wherever she was. "I need to get back out there. I promise, as soon as I can, I'll call again."

"It was so good to hear you again," Matt smiled sadly. "Keep yourself safe, Sylv."

"I will. You two stay safe, too."

"We will," Kelly promised.

The soft click seemed eerie in the silence that followed, and Matt dropped his face in his hands. "Oh, my God . . . "

"Christ," Kelly seethed, rubbing his forehead. "I know I wanted to hear her again, I've been craving her voice, but to hear her sound like that?"

"You have no idea how much I want to look up that area code now," Matt ground out, plucking his phone up and getting to his feet.

"Oh, I think I do," Kelly shook his head, accepting Matt's hand up. "And yet, I'm still set on waiting for her to tell us where she is."

They walked back to 51 side by side, matching strides without thinking about it. "The things we're willing to do for her," Matt finally said.

Kelly snorted loudly. "We've been goners for months, haven't we?"

Matt smirked. "I think we've been gone on her since we were willing to break into the chaplain's house if it meant we got her back."

Kelly nodded in agreement. "I'll get that message to Grissom."

"Go ahead," Matt nodded as they maneuvered through the common room into the bunks. "I've got a report to finish."

Kelly nodded, patting him on the shoulder as they lowered their voices, aware of the sleeping house members. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Matt nodded, noting the breaking news notification on his phone about the worsening wildfires.

Texas really did have awful luck with natural disasters.

***

The 118 was a burst of activity Eddie hadn't seen in a long time. Firefighters from different shifts were rushing equipment to the rigs under Bobby's supervision, the captain barking out orders, an iron, yet anxious, look on his face.

Eddie understood the feeling, because it was exactly what he was feeling as he and Lena loaded their bags onto the engine. The call for special deployment had come, and their entire crew had answered the call. Chimney was checking the medical supplies, and Eddie and Lena had loaded the engine with whatever they might need in Texas . . . Texas, where all response teams from the houses in state were exhausted. Texas, where Buck's new house was.

There was no way Eddie was sitting this out, and he knew Bobby wasn't, either. "You know, I've been on the list for special deployment ever since I joined the department," Lena said, shutting one of the hatches. "Never got a call before today."

Eddie nodded, checking his gear one last time. "OK," he stepped back, brushing his hands off. "We are ready to roll."

"Everybody, make sure you use the bathroom before we go!" Hen barked. "I don't care if you think you need to or not. We have a 20-hour drive, and we're gonna make good time."

"You sure you're good with coming, Hen?" Chimney asked, rounding the engine. "You've got the biggest family here."

"I do," Hen nodded. "But I also have two kids and med school bills to pay. I'll take all the emergency overtime I can get. Besides . . . " She smirked. "It'll be fun. I've never been to Texas."

"Join the club!"

She spun around at the voice, and Eddie blinked in surprise, seeing two familiar faces walk into the station. "Maddie?" he asked in disbelief. "Josh? What are you doing here?"

"Sue sent us here," Josh answered. "All first responders are being called to San Angelo. Firefighters, paramedics, police officers . . . and dispatchers to keep everyone in contact. We're hitching a ride."

"We'll make sure you fit," Bobby walked up. "Alright, last call, everyone! Every second we waste is one less second San Angelo has! Grab your gear, get on the rigs, and let's move out!"

It was a mad scramble in the station to get everything finished. In five minutes, Eddie was climbing into the back of the engine, helping Maddie into the seat next to him. Josh and Lena rounded out the crew in back with Bobby in the front, Hen and Chimney in the ambulance. "At least this is some way we can help," Maddie murmured.

Eddie nodded determinedly. "However we can."

Maddie nodded in agreement. "Ready?" Bobby asked.

"Ready when we heard about the fires, Cap," Eddie answered.

Bobby nodded in agreement. "Let's roll."

The sirens on the rigs wailed, and Eddie settled back in his seat, mentally running through everything as they peeled down the streets. Maddie's hand slipped into his, and Eddie squeezed comfortingly.

***

"I need everyone's attention now."

The entire house looked up from their work when Boden's rumble had a no-nonsense tone. "Chief?" Herrmann straightened.

"I double checked, and this entire shift is signed for special deployment," Boden said, checking his list. "I got a call from the commissioner's office. The wildfires in San Angelo are getting worse by the minute, and the departments there are calling for help. This specific shift is being sent to help."

Matt and Kelly looked at each other sharply. In all their years in the CFD, they had been signed up for special deployment. They had never once been called to action until now. "When do we leave, Chief?" Matt asked.

"As soon as your rigs are packed," Boden answered. "Make it quick. We leave as soon as the last person is on a rig."

The house was a flurry of action as everyone ran for lockers and bunks and rigs. "Guess that's what we get for discussing natural disasters!" Capp shouted.

Matt tuned the conversations out as he entered his quarters, grabbing his duffel and packing what was needed. Everyone in the department typically had civilian clothes with them in the house as needed, and Matt knew he and Kelly both had more stored than usual. He left his quarters at the same time as Kelly, both heading for the locker rooms in tandem. "First special deployment," Kelly said, opening his locker. "And the entire shift getting called?"

"Typically it's only half a shift that's on special deployment," Matt looked through his locker, grabbing other necessities he needed. "The whole shift there will be interesting."

"Looking forward to it, though," Kelly grinned, shutting his locker.

Matt snorted. "I swear . . . adrenaline junkie."

Kelly laughed loudly as Matt closed his locker. "You know it!"

They split off when they hit the apparatus floor, and Matt ran for Truck 81, seeing Mouch and Gallo checking all their compartments. "How're we looking?" he asked.

"All equipment accounted for, Cap," Mouch reported.

"And in top condition, too," Gallo agreed.

Matt hauled himself into the officer's seat, seeing Stella look over everything from the driver's seat. "We are ready to roll, Captain," she said.

"Good," Matt nodded, gesturing to Mouch and Gallo. Both climbed into the rig, and Matt could see Kelly direct his crew into the rig as well. "Start her up."

Stella revved the engine, and Matt could hear the rumbles of Squad 3 and Ambulance 61 start up as well. Engine 51 was the last to start, and Boden's voice crackled over the radio. "Report!"

"Truck 81, ready," Matt called.

"Squad 3, ready," Kelly said.

"Engine 51, ready!" Herrmann called.

"Ambulance 61, ready to go," Violet finished.

"Roll out, 51."

Stella started the siren, and as Boden peeled out of the station, she followed close behind. Matt settled back in his seat for the long drive to Texas, checking the rearview mirror to see the rest of the house following the procession. There was a chirp on his phone, and he checked one of the group chats he was included in.

Grainger: See you in San Angelo, boys!

Delaney: Why are we always being dragged along by you two?

Matt's lips twitched upwards, and he snorted loudly when Kelly responded.

Severide: Admit it. You two are having fun.

Grainger: Most fun I've had in years on the job.

Delaney: My house was normal until 51 bunked with us.

Grainger: I hate normalcy now.

Delaney: Great, you can take some of our calls.

Matt shook his head fondly.

Casey: It's a long drive, guys. Get ready for an adventure.

Severide: See if you can keep up!

Delaney: I hate you two.

Grainger: That makes one of us.

***

"Captain Strand?" Owen looked up from his map of the San Angelo fires to see Grace walk up. "That was Commissioner Grissom," she said. "Chief Boden's shift from Firehouse 51 has been dispatched, just as you requested."

"Good," Owen nodded in satisfaction. "Thank you, Grace."

"You're welcome," she smiled. "51's going to be in for quite a surprise when they get here, aren't they?"

Owen smirked, thinking back on Sylvie's words. Someone in the CFD had threatened to out her, had threatened her career, and had done it through Captain Casey and Lieutenant Severide, which would put their careers on the line as well. Even without Sylvie's word, he knew their reputations, and he knew the type of men they were. Captains would salivate at the thought of having such capable officers at their houses. The thought of someone trying to get to Sylvie through them was appalling . . . and it sounded like it was someone on their shift.

"Oh, Grace . . . I'm counting on it."

***

*rubs hand together eagerly* Here we go, folks! Next time . . . "Hold the Line" begins!

Also, one last piece of business to take care of . . . the rescue. Owen and Sylvie are going down in the helicopter. We all know Buck and TK are going after them, Eddie is of course following Buck, and let's face it, driving into wildfires is not the craziest thing Matt and Kelly have done for their girl. My question is, which of the following two scenarios would you like to see?

1: The 126 (Judd, Marjan, Paul, Mateo, Buck, and TK) along with Matt, Kelly, Eddie, and the rest of Squad 3 all heading to rescue Owen and Sylvie. It's a lot of people missing, but goes to show what the captains mean to their house/former house.

2: Buck, TK, Matt, Kelly, Eddie, and Squad 3 go rogue. No Ladder 126, but it's far more personal for these eight: Buck and TK's crewmates and family, Buck's family is Eddie's, Matt and Kelly would do anything for Sylvie, and Squad 3 would be right on their heels.

Let me know! The crews can't be on the highway to get to San Angelo forever! ;)

graphic by marvelity