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Hen almost wants to ignore Bobby’s order to get out of the building.
“Bobby--” Hen starts.
“The fire’s spreading fast. If we don’t get out now we might never get out,” Bobby replies in a grim voice.
Hen’s with Buck on the seventh floor of the building. They’d been on their way down, sweeping the floors for any remaining people to save.
Hen is still inside the living room of the last family they’d cleared. Two parents and a toddler clutched tightly in his father’s arms. They have a seven-year-old who hadn’t been with them when they’d evacuated. They frantically begged Hen to save her, almost refusing to go down with Eddie and Chimney without her.
Her name is Eleanor, the mother said, shaking and crying, coughing as gray smoke started to filter through the upper floors of the building.
Hen meets Buck’s eyes. She sees a spark of determination in his eyes.
“Bobby, give us maybe five minutes,” he says. “We’ll get her out. The rest of the building is clear.”
The radio crackles. “Absolutely not. The building’s not safe. You need to get out. This is an order, Buckley.”
Buck meets Hen’s eyes and she nods at him. He squeezes past her and disappears into the apartment in search of Eleanor.
“Cap there’s a little girl stuck in that house,” Hen snaps, efficiently silencing everyone. “With all due respect, I’m not leaving without her.”
The silence is deafening.
“You have ten minutes before you two need to get out of there,” Bobby says. “I want to see you two come out of that building, you hear me, Wilson?”
Hen smiles despite herself. “Of course, Cap.”
“And Hen? Find her.”
“Will do,” Hen replies.
She turns off her radio and shuts the front door. The smoke is becoming thicker and darker and the room is becoming warmer. For the moment, the door is keeping the smoke from blanketing the apartment fully. She makes her way towards the bedroom just as Buck emerges with a little girl in his arms.
She’s got her face buried in Buck’s shoulder and Buck is talking to her softly. He looks up and spots Hen.
“We’re all good to go,” he says. “She’s scared but she’s being super brave, right?”
Eleanor nods and shyly looks up. She has green eyes and brown hair and waves at Hen.
“Where’s my mom?” she asks.
“Right outside, sweetheart,” Hen says soothingly. “We’re gonna go and meet her, that sound good?”
She nods slowly and Hen turns her radio back on.
“We found her, Cap. Heading down now.”
“That’s great news, Hen,” Bobby replies. “Fire’s still near the back so you can go down the main stairwell easily.”
“Copy.”
Bobby spoke too soon. The room shudders and the floor behind Buck caves in. He barely has time to jump forward before the floorboards fall into the flaming apartment below.
Eleanor screams and Buck almost drops her.
“Buck!” Hen screams, pulling him forward and away from the collapsing ceiling.
She’s clutching the arm of his turnout coat tightly and she can see how much Eleanor is shaking in Buck’s arms. Buck himself looks pale beneath the grime smudged on his face.
“Are you alright?” she asks.
Buck nods and readjusts his hold on Eleanor.
“How are you doing, Eleanor?” he asks gently. “You’re very brave, you know? Just like a firefighter.”
She sniffles. “I’m fine,” she mumbles. “I don’t like fire.”
Buck huffs a laugh and glances at Hen.
“Yeah, we also hate fires,” he tells her, glancing at the wreck behind them. Behind them, the path to the front door is clear.
If they’re careful about not accidentally stepping on any weakened board, they should be able to make it out and onto the landing.
“We could make it,” Hen says.
Buck’s face is grim. Around them, the house creaks and groans dangerously, heat and smoke making it harder to breathe.
“I’ll go first,” Hen says before Buck can object.
He won’t, and Hen’s had enough of seeing him get hurt all the time.
Slowly, Hen starts making her way across the living room. The fire’s probably right underneath them. Hen can feel the burning heat under her boots.
She glances behind her often to make sure Buck and Eleanor are doing alright. They’re several steps behind. So far so good, Hen thinks through gritted teeth.
She can feel sweat running down the back of her neck.
“Guys talk to me,” Bobby asks, almost making Hen jump in surprise.
“We’re almost to the stairwell,” Buck says. “we’re--”
his sentence is cut short by plaster raining from the ceiling and deep shuddering rumbles. Hen almost stops breathing when she looks up and sees an ugly crack in the ceiling. It looks seconds away from caving in.
Hen turns to shout a warning at Buck before she’s interrupted by a deafening crack.
Buck spares a glance at the ceiling before shouting something intelligible and shoving Hen and Eleanor out of the way. Eleanor squeaks in terror as she and Hen topple onto the couch just as the ceiling caves in. Hen wraps her arms around Eleanor and curls in around her to shield her from chunks of broken plaster.
The room settles and Hen immediately sits up, panic clouding her mind.
She doesn’t see Buck at first glance. In front of her, there’s a pile of plaster and cement and broken furniture.
Black smoke is slowly creeping into the apartment, mingling with the plaster dust in the air.
“Buck?” she calls, gently setting Eleanor on the couch and stands up.
With a sudden shout, her leg buckles, and her knees hit the ground. With a hiss of pain she looks at her leg and her heart drops to her stomach.
“Oh--” she doesn’t finish her thought for the sake of the seven-year-old.
“Miss, are you hurt?” Eleanor asks, craning her neck to see Hen’s leg.
“Just a scratch,” He says, quickly standing up to keep Eleanor from seeing her torn pant leg and the horrible gash wrapping around her calf. “I need to find Buck. Stay here.”
Hen squints through the plaster dust and black smoke clogging the room and obscuring her vision.
“Buck!” she yells, her heart hammering against her ribcage. “Buck!”
Where they’d been standing there was now a huge pile of debris. No one could survive getting crushed under that. She doesn’t want to come out of this building without Buck.
Because she’d insisted to keep looking for the little girl. And Buck had come with her.
She can’t have his death on her hands. She can’t--
She almost sobs when she sees Buck’s prone body through the heavy smoke.
She limps over to him and falls to her knees. With shaking hands, she rolls him over and searches for a pulse.
She almost cries when she feels one.
Gently, she shakes Buck awake.
He blinks and groans, pushing his helmet off his head and rolling over to the side.
“Hen?” he asks, voice rough. “You okay?”
Hen hesitates. “Just a scratch. Can you stand?”
Buck closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He stops halfway and dissolves into hacking coughs. Hen gently rubs his back, glancing back to see Eleanor curled on the couch. They need to get her out of here.
“Not really, but I don’t want to burn to a crisp,” he replies wrily once the coughing fit passes.
Hen struggles to her feet, ignoring the blinding pain in her calf, and helps Buck stand up. He’s wincing and coughing which can’t be a good sign, but she’s not doing much better, bleeding out in a burning apartment building.
Buck casts a worried glance at the front door where dark billows of smoke are slithering through.
He notices Hen’s limping and wraps an arm around her waist to relieve the pressure on Hen’s bad leg. Hesitantly, she leans on him, relieved as the pain becomes slightly more manageable. His face is pale and drawn, but he doesn’t complain.
“Is your radio still working?” Hen asks Buck as he lets her go. She leans against the wall near the couch. Anything that isn’t broken or covered in fallen chunks of plaster is covered by a layer of white plaster dust.
Buck grimaces. “Completely busted.”
“Are we gonna die?” Eleanor asks, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her jacket. It used to be pink but now turned an ashy gray because of the smoke. Her brown hair is almost white from plaster dust.
“Oh, sweetie, no,” Hen assures immediately, brushing her hair out of her face and smiling at her. “We’re all getting out of here.”
A tear traces a clear path through the dust on her face. “The front door’s the only exit,” she says miserably. “I want my mom.”
She wraps her arms around Hen’s middle and Hen doesn’t know what to say to her. She gives Buck a desperate look.
Buck doesn’t look much more hopeful. “First oder of business, we can’t stay here,” he coughs. “Smoke’s seeping through the door. Her bedroom has a window overlooking the street.”
“Alright,” Hen says, gingerly picking Eleanor up. “That’s good enough for me. We’ll figure something out.”
Buck gives her a look that Hen recognizes. ‘What if we don’t?’
She doesn’t reply-- she can’t reply. Not with a scared little girl in her arms who wants to see her mom again. They have to figure something out.
Buck and Hen lean on each other and limp to the bedroom. Once inside, Buck lets go of Hen who leans heavily against the bedroom wall.
He steps outside of the bedroom before Hen can even think to stop him.
Eleanor is clutching the fabric of her turnout coat tightly, face buried in Hen’s shoulder. The weight of her doesn’t make it easier to take some weight off her aching leg, but Hen doesn’t complain.
Buck slams the door shut, black smoke swirling in after him, coughing into the crook of his arms, his face smudged with soot, his eyes bright and blue.
“Bad news, fire’s reached the living room,” he says.
His arm is still wrapped around his middle, which isn’t calming Hen’s frayed nerves in the least.
Hen’s chest constricts. “Is anyone coming?”
Buck’s eyes flick over to the door. “Not in time.”
Eleanor is shaking in Hen’s arms. She doesn’t stop rubbing her back, trying to provide what little comfort she can.
“Buck--”
Buck stumbles past her and towards the window and looks out. Hen knows they wouldn’t be able to survive that fall. They’re too high up.
Buck turns back to her, eyes bright with hope. “Hen, do you trust me?” he asks.
She blinks. “Well, of course I do, Buck. What--”
He hastily opens the window and waves down at the rest of their crew. He quickly limps back to her and helps her back upright. He takes Eleanor from her arms and allows Hen to lean on him as he leads her as quickly as he can to the window.
Hen doesn’t like putting her weight on Buck when he’s clearly got broken ribs. His face is ashen but he doesn’t say anything. She doubts she looks much better.
Buck sets Eleanor down on the ground and his arm goes back around his waist. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to jump, Eleanor,” he says gently. “It’s just like a bouncy house.”
Eleanor leans shyly over the edge of the window and Hen glances nervously behind them. The fire hasn’t reached the room yet, but her nose is clogged with the acrid smell of smoke and burning wood and the room is significantly warmer than before.
Outside, Hen can hear voices yelling and clamoring.
“It won’t hurt?” she asks nervously.
“Of course not,” Buck says gently, a note of urgency in his voice. “I’ll hold your hand if you want.”
She looks at Hen and shyly asks, “can Hen do it?”
Buck glances at Hen with a small smile. “Of course she can.”
Hen doesn’t need to be told twice. Buck struggles to his feet with the help of the wall and Hen takes his place.
She helps Eleanor over the edge of the door, one hand gripping hers tightly and the other bunched up in the back of her jacket to keep her from falling.
Below, Hen can see the two fire engines and the ambulance and a safety air cushion just below.
“Are you ready?” she asks Eleanor.
She’s gripping her hand so tightly it almost hurts, but nods anyway.
“On three,” Hen says, her heart hammering against her chest. “Okay, ready? One,” Eleanor stands on the short ledge, “two,” Hen hears gasps from below, “three!”
Eleanor lets go of Hen and leaps. Hen’s sure her heart stops from the moment Eleanor lets go to the moment Chimney and Eddie are helping her off the cushion.
“Our turn,” Buck says, poking his head out of the window. “You go first.”
Hen wants to argue with him, but the sound of cracking wood and the unbearable heat from the fire quickly dissuades her. She can yell at Buck once they’re sitting in the back of an ambulance, she reasons as she climbs over the side of the window.
She doesn’t hesitate when she jumps. Her stomach swoops nauseatingly and she almost wants to close her eyes. She lands on her feet and renewed agony flares through her bad leg. She cries out as she feels her leg buckle and suddenly she feels hands on her arms, pulling her off and onto a waiting stretcher.
She looks up just in time to see Buck jump from the window. Bobby and Eddie are already rushing over to help him while Chimney and another paramedic start checking on her.
Chimney whistles when he sees her leg. “Damn. How’d that happen?”
“Falling debris,” Hen says distractedly, looking over to Eleanor and her family, her parents holding her tight and her mother openly crying.
“Bobby’s not happy,” Chimney says, following her gaze. “You two went radio silent and he just about lost his mind.”
Hen looks at him. “What about you?”
Chimney looks at her and shrugs. “You saved a little girl and brought her back to her parents. No one died and that’s the best we can ask for.”
One of the EMTs wraps a bright orange shock blanket around Hen. She didn’t notice she was shaking until now.
“But seriously,” Chimney says, hopping into the ambulance with Hen. “never scare me like that again.”
Hen laughs and pats Chimney’s shoulder. “I will not be holding you up on that promise.”