Work Text:
“So, you’ll have that letter signed by morning, right?” With her hand on the handle of Captain Strand’s door, Marjan stares at him, refusing to leave the car until he answers her.
“Marwani…” He stares back for a moment before sighing, shaking his head. “We’ll pick this discussion up later.”
Marjan narrows her eyes, considering this. Her jaw flexes, lips pursing.
“You bet we will.” She finally tells him, and gets out. Strand peels away as soon as the door is shut, leaving her standing in the driveway of the 122. Without the warmth of the heater, the cold quickly seeps in, despite her puffy pink jacket; she shivers, stomps her feet, rubs her hands together, then turns to head inside.
Every engine, truck, and rig she passes is being restocked. The snow storm has clearly taken its toll on Austin, and while Marjan doesn’t regret going after Captain Strand, she still feels a stab of guilt at the thought of leaving so many people in need. It was good that she was there to save Cap, but how many others needed her help in the meantime?
You can’t save everyone, Marjan, Paul’s voice reminds her, coming unbidden to her mind. The thought of him has Marjan glancing around for the man as she heads to the women’s locker room.
It’s actually a little strange that she hasn’t seen Paul yet. If he’s anywhere first, he’s usually by her side almost immediately after she gets there. Marjan doesn’t see Judd, either, and it’s obvious they’re not out on a call. Changing quickly, she swaps out her pink beanie for a blue hijab, makes sure her hair is tucked completely and comfortably underneath before she leaves the locker room.
Paul’s not waiting outside, which Marjan half-expected. She’s definitely not frowning when she knocks on Captain Andrews’s office door. He looks up, and one of his eyebrows twitches.
“Marwani. How was your snow day?”
Wincing, Marjan steps into the room.
“Hey, Captain,” she begins, standing behind one of the chairs across from him, hands folded in front of her. “I’m really sorry I’ve been gone all shift.”
“It’s not me you let down,” Andrews tells her, “It’s your team.”
This time, Marjan’s wince is internal. The 122 might not be her family, but they are still the house she’s been working with for several months. She nods.
“I know. I just… I found something out that I thought could save the one-two-six, and I…”
“You don’t need to explain, Marwani.” Andrews interrupts her with a wave. “I witnessed first hand the power of the one-twenty-six’s bond. I’m just disappointed you can’t be happy here. You’re a damn good firefighter.”
“Thank you, sir.” Marjan blinks, a little taken aback. “What did you mean, you witnessed it first hand?”
“You mean you don’t know? Well, I wondered why you were here.” The way Captain Andrews shakes his head makes something begin twisting in Marjan’s gut.
“Captain Andrews, did something happen?”
“You could say that.” The man leans back in his chair, rubbing his jaw. Then he sighs, leans forward again. “Sit down, Marwani.”
The way he says it makes her knees want to buckle. She listens.
“A shelter collapsed. There was a fire, and after we put it out, an officer realized there was still someone inside.”
“Oh, no,” Marjan whispers, eyes widening.
“While we were doing a search, the building collapsed again under the weight of the ice. Strickland went down with it. Now,” he adds quickly, holding up his hand, “Ryder and Chavez from the one-twenty-nine made sure he got out, and he’s at the hospital now. But he was frozen pretty solid. Removed his turnout to keep the girl warm after a pipe burst all over him. Ingenious, really. He made her put on a trash bag for insulation underneath it.”
“Of course he did.” Marjan wants to feel proud of the slightly awed tone Andrews is using as he talks about Paul, but her brain feels stuck on the fact that he’s at the hospital. Right now, Paul is at the hospital, probably hypothermic.
Her hands are shaking. She balls them into fists and presses her knuckles to her knees. Marjan clears her thought, but her voice still wavers a little when she speaks.
“Captain Andrews, I know I just got here, but–”
“Go.” He doesn’t let her finish. Doesn’t really need to, Marjan supposes. Where else would she be going with that? “Go see your boy.”
Marjan’s out the door so fast, she doesn’t bother to correct him.
She’s never seen Paul so still and quiet without a book in his hands, before. Only his breathing causes movement. Leaning against the doorframe to his hospital room, arms crossed, Marjan watches his chest rise and fall.
Alhamdulillah for that, at least.
She keeps standing in the doorway. Waiting for something, maybe, although Marjan isn’t sure what. Half of her expects him to tell her she’s being creepy, just watching him like that. Then Marjan could say, “What’s creepy is you knowing it’s me with your eyes closed.” Or something like that.
Paul doesn’t say anything, though. Just lies there, silent. And, except for the rise and fall of his chest, still. So still.
Marjan can’t seem to make her feet move. At least, not until she notices that Paul has begun shivering. That propels her into the room and across the floor to his bedside. She pulls both the thin hospital blanket and a soft white one that seems to be made of fleece up and tucks them around Paul’s broad shoulders.
Paul sighs, brow furrowing, and Marjan freezes. Slowly, she pulls her hands back as his eyes flutter open.
He blinks at her a moment, frowning slightly. “Marj?”
It takes another second, but Paul snaps awake, pushing himself up with a grin.
“Marjan! You’re okay!”
“I’m okay?” Marjan crosses her arms again, hands curling at her elbows. She looks away and blinks against the sting in her eyes. “I’m not the one lying in a hospital bed.”
“No, you were the one who went driving up into hill country right before a white out hit.”
Okay. Paul has a point. That doesn’t stop Marjan from rolling her eyes at him.
“Hospital. Bed. Captain Andrews said that a building collapsed on you, that the pipes burst and you got wet, and then you gave your turnout to the girl you rescued. You’re hypothermic, Paul. You could have died!” Marjan drops her arms, settles them on her hips.
“Yeah, but I didn’t. Judd and Mateo got me out. I’m here and I’m gonna be okay.”
“Gonna be?” Marjan’s eyebrows go up. “So, you aren’t now?”
Paul grimaces, sliding back down in the bed and bringing the blankets up to under his chin. “Well, no.”
“Paul!”
“They’re having trouble getting my core temperature up past 90 degrees. But it’ll be fine! I’ll just be in the hospital a coupla days, and then I’ll be back to kicking butt with you.”
“You’d better be.” Marjan glances around, spots a chair and drags it closer so that she can sit down. “You can’t die on me, Paul.”
Paul’s face softens. “I’ll try not to.”
They’re both quiet, watching each other with faint smiles. Eventually, however, Paul breaks the silence, clearing his throat.
“So, how’d it go with Captain Strand?”
Marjan groans.