Work Text:
After the nurses have shooed everyone out of Paul’s room so that he can rest more, Lindsey finds herself back in her own room with her parents, who are still stuck on the conversation about how to thank the firefighter that saved their daughter’s life.
And yeah. Lindsey knows they mean well. She gets that they’re grateful–she’s grateful too! Down there with Paul, she knows her life wasn’t just saved. But their ideas are getting more and more ridiculous, more expensive. Paul said that a blanket was too much, he’s not going to want a university building dedicated to him.
Which, actually, does give Lindsey an idea.
“Hey,” she says. Neither of her parents so much as pause in their arguing or glance at her, and a familiar frustration wells up in her. She almost clamps it down, but then she remembers Paul’s words.
You think that makes you sound nice?
“Hey!” Lindsey tries again, putting that frustration into her voice instead.
It works. Both her parents shut up, looking at her. Her mom’s eyes are a little wide.
“Lindsey, what–”
“I have an idea about something you can do for Paul and the other guys.” Her parents exchange a glance. Before either of them can dismiss her, she reminds them, “And I was down there with him. We talked. I know what he wants.”
“Well, by all means, then.” Her dad puts his hand on the end of her bed, leaning towards her. “What is it, kiddo?”
“He wants his firehouse back.”
“His… What do you mean?”
“Paul, Mateo and Judd, and someone named Marjan, they were all at Firehouse 126, and it got closed because of budget cuts. Instead of blowing money on… On cars and watches and fancy blankets, if you really want to thank Paul and them, open the 126.”
Her parents stare at her for a moment, and then her dad stands up straight again, reaching for his phone.
“I have some calls to make.”
“Wait,” Lindsey stops him before he can leave the room, glances between her parents. When she’s sure they’re both looking at her, she says, “I almost died. You guys don’t get to ignore me anymore.”
“Oh, Lindsey,” her mother begins, stepping closer to her bed, hands outstretched. Her father, though, just looks at her and nods.
“Understood.”
“I did something.” Lindsey stands in Paul’s doorway, leaning on her IV pole for support. Paul blinks open his eyes, offers her a slight, tired smile.
“What did you do?”
Her father is still outside, and she’s sent her mother out for non-hospital food, so Lindsey has a few minutes at least. Maybe she should have let Paul sleep, though. When he waves at a chair, though, she doesn’t hesitate in schooching forward to take a seat.
“I told my dad that if he really wanted to thank you, he should reopen the 126.”
Paul’s eyes had been slipping closed, but they’ve jerked open again by the time Lindsey’s done speaking.
“Wait, you did what? Lindsey, that’s too much.” Shaking his head, Paul pushes himself up slightly.
“They were talking about having a university building at UT dedicated to you. I figured you’d rather they reopen your firehouse.”
“Yeah, but…” Paul pauses, his eyebrows going up. “Hold up. A university building? Like, a library?”
Lindsey’s brow furrows. “I don’t know, I guess. Whatever you wanted, probably. Which I thought would be the 126!”
“It is!” Paul reassures her. “I’ve just always wanted a library named after me.”
Rolling her eyes, Lindsey resists the urge to reach out and pinch him. Paul seems to sense this, because he leans away slightly. Removing himself from temptation’s reach.
“Look, Lindsey,” Paul continues, “I appreciate it, really. But the city says that it would cost 4.6 million to reopen the 126. That’s too much.”
“You saved my life, Paul,” Lindsey shoots back. “More than that, you–you changed it! You showed me that I can be a firecracker.”
“Still not a ginger joke,” he interjects. Lindsey laughs.
“Still not sure I believe you. But… I do think reopening your firehouse is the least I can do. Or, rather, get my parents to do.”
Paul is looking at her, and Lindsey thinks maybe he’ll argue with her some more, but he doesn’t. Instead he sighs, closes his eyes again.
“Well, if you’re gonna insist…”
Lindsey grins.
“I am. And I’m also going to insist that you tell me more about them. The 126.”
“Well, you met Judd and Mateo,” Paul reminds her.
“So tell me about Marjan, then.” Something about the way Paul had spoken her name before has Lindsey curious about the woman he called his ride or die.
“Marjan.” Paul’s eyes open again, mouth curving up in a soft smile. “Marjan, Marjan, Marjan. You will never meet a more badass woman. Badass person. A little crazy, but I wouldn’t change it.”
Paul talks himself to sleep about Marjan, still smiling, and the stories he tells have Lindsey smiling too. She shuffles back to her room once he’s out. Her parents are still gone, but she doesn’t mind so much. Her mom will bring food, and her dad, hopefully, is getting the 126 reopened.
And if that doesn’t work, there’s always a library.