Work Text:
In the Nancy video the 911 ls Instagram posted the other day, Brianna said something that I never actually realized before: two of Nancy’s best friends died on the job. She was able to save one of them, the other she couldn’t. Why is that such a shock to the system for me? Like woah, hang on I’m crying.
It doesn’t creep up on her randomly.
In fact, it shows up in the form of a calendar notification when she’s in the middle of brushing her teeth, minty suds collecting on the corner of her mouth.
It’s just a regular morning. Uneventful, average — a Tuesday. She made coffee, the mug sitting right on the counter next to her phone, and she has time before work so she isn’t rushing.
But “regular” takes a turn for the worse when her phone lights up with the unfriendly reminder.
Tim’s Birthday!!!
Nancy slows to a halt, lowering her toothbrush as the screen locks once again. She taps it, pulling up the notification again. It glares back at her, taunts her, another blindsiding gut-punch coming in the form of the note just under it:
Doughnuts!
That was their birthday tradition every single year. They’d each show up with a dozen; six Boston cream and six strawberry glazed for Tim, six blueberry and six chocolate for Nancy. They’d each write something increasingly embarrassing on the box in black marker with every turn, but absolutely nothing was funnier than the year Nancy came in with balloons with Tim’s face on them. She still has the photo of him looking utterly dismayed by the surprise.
She lets out a shaky breath as she catches her reflection in the mirror.
It’s not like it’s his first birthday since he died, it’s actually the second. But the pang of guilt that follows the thought is too present. She’s been good, happy, but the fact that she didn’t even realize what today was makes her feel like shit.
She knows Tim wouldn’t have wanted her to beat herself up over forgetting, but Nancy’s still battling with the demons from the night he died, still trying to flush out the “what ifs” of it all.
Judd’s words still ring in her head to this day: “There wasn’t enough of him left to work on, Nancy.”
But she can’t help but wonder if there was just something.
Her phone buzzes again, this time with a text from TK asking if she wants him to grab coffee on the way in.
And, because the brain works in mysterious ways and the universe clearly wants to give Nancy a one-two punch, the next realization hits her almost as swiftly as the last.
Two of her best friends died on the job.
She was able to save TK. She couldn’t save Tim.
TK died. Tim died. They were both helping people, they were just doing their jobs.
There’s a risk in this line of work, there’s no denying it. Anything can happen at any given moment. Just when you think you’re safe, something can come around the corner and strike you.
In Tim’s case, it quite literally did.
In TK’s, all he did was fall through the ice — a calculated risk, but a risk nonetheless.
Nancy’s breath hitches again, and in a split second she’s catching herself on the edge of the sink, toothbrush still in her grasp.
Two weeks ago, she could have nearly died on the job, too. A man shot point-blank and killed the patient they were about to transport. She was in the back of the bus with him, keeping him stable and comfortable when the shots were fired. Somehow she came out unscathed but spattered in his blood and wrapped in fear. Hell, if she thinks hard enough, she can still smell the sharpness of the gunpowder.
She could have died.
Tim did. TK did.
TK came back. Tim didn’t.
And now they’re riding around with Tim’s name on the side of the rig in tribute while TK’s behind the wheel.
That thought alone makes her feel terrible, like she’s resenting losing one over the other.
She remembers what she said to Mrs. Polson that night at Tommy’s house after the DNR incident: that all she ever wanted to do was save lives. And Nancy’s going to keep doing that, there’s no doubt about it, but what’s the point of saving lives if saving your best friend isn’t one of them?
She tosses her toothbrush into the cup with a little too much force, wiping the excess toothpaste from her mouth with the back of her hand as she leaves the room.
She has to get ready for work.
______
“Hi, are you being helped?”
Nancy shakes her head as she steps up to order, stuffing her hands in her back pockets as she rocks forward on her heels. “Uh, no.”
She texted TK an affirmative on his coffee offer, yet she still finds herself standing in line at a doughnut shop on the way into work.
She wasn’t planning on picking anything up, but it’s impossible to get Tim out of her head. And if she’s being completely honest with herself, she kind of got here on autopilot.
The girl behind the counter smiles. “What can I get for you?”
She hesitates. “Sorry—um, a dozen assorted, please.” A beat. “Actually, can you make sure there’s one Boston cream and one strawberry in there?”
The girl nods. “Strawberry frosted or cake?”
“Frosted.”
“You got it,” she chimes. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, that’s it.”
“Okay. It’ll be right up."
When the girl passes the box over to her a few minutes later with a cardboard tray holding two coffees, Nancy frowns.
“I didn’t order these.”
“Two free coffees with every dozen,” the girl answers with a smile. “I can take them back if you don’t want them.”
“No—no, I’ll…thank you.”
She pays, doing a minor balancing act back to the car as she carries everything.
By the time she pulls up to the firehouse, both Tommy’s and TK’s cars are parked. She grabs the box from the passenger seat, huffing out a sigh as she heads into the bay.
She needs her mind to be clear before their shift officially starts; this isn’t a job where mistakes can be made, but her stomach is slowly forming a knot and the closer she walks toward the station, the tighter it gets.
“Hey, Nancy! Wait up!”
She whips around in time to see Mateo’s head pop out from behind Captain Strand’s car. He grunts, lifting his knee up to balance a case of coconut water as he slams the trunk shut.
“Morning,” he greets, doing his best to jog over with the weight he’s carrying.
The knot uncoils just a little. “Hey.”
Hi,” he smiles. “Whatcha got?”
Nancy holds the box up loftily, putting on her best grin. “Doughnuts.”
“Better keep those away from Cap,” Mateo says with a jerk of his head. “If he sees them, he’ll throw ‘em out.”
“Oh yeah, his whole no refined sugar thing.” She rolls her eyes. “He’ll just have to deal with it.”
“Tommy doesn’t care though, right?”
“She literally brings in Charles’ pecan sandies, like, every other week, so no.”
Mateo hums. “So what’s the occasion?” He asks as they step into the bay, bumping her hip as they go, and Nancy nearly trips over her own feet at the question.
She hesitates. “Uh…”
“I mean, there doesn’t have to be one. You can bring in whatever you want. Unless it’s, like, someone’s birthday that I didn’t know about.”
“It is, actually,” she finds herself saying, focusing her gaze on the floor. “It’s, um…it’s Tim’s.”
She had reservations about saying anything to anyone today. If anyone asked, her plan was to play it all off as a lack of sleep. As for the doughnuts, just a friendly gesture. But it’s Mateo and she pretty much tells him everything at this point. Not to mention, he’s right here, and Nancy would be lying if she said the words weren’t clawing at her throat.
The realization catches up with him and his face drops. “Oh, Nancy, I'm sorry. I didn’t—“
She stops him. “It’s okay. It’s not your job to know. You guys only knew him for a short time before…” Nancy shakes her head. “It’s just something we used to do.”
When she looks over, Mateo’s frowning, and she shrugs.
“I’m okay.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t seem convinced.
They each go silent, but after a moment Mateo adds, “But…I did know him. You know? I mean, yeah, you knew him better and we didn’t really hang out that much. But I did know him. Like, he worked here with us.”
Nancy frowns now, nodding slowly. He’s right. Then again, before Captain Strand and TK and Tommy, medical and fire stayed mostly separate. It wasn’t until after Tim died that they really started hanging.
Cool kids table and peanut allergies and all that.
“I know you did,” she says sadly, beginning to recognize that she’s not the only one still wrestling with this. “I have to go clock in but, here—“ She makes a beeline to the kitchen, gesturing for Mateo to follow as she sets the box down on the counter, removing the coffees before popping it open. “You can take the first pick.”
“Are you sure?” He asks, brightening up.
“Yeah, go ahead.”
Mateo drops the case on the counter with a heavy thunk, plucking a chocolate frosted from the top row. If Nancy holds her breath in hopes that he doesn’t pick either of Tim’s favorites, then that’s for her to know and no one to find out.
She nods toward the tray. “Want the coffee, too?”
“Sure. I’ll give them to Judd.” Mateo then shoves half the doughnut in his mouth and begins to rip at the thick plastic on the case of waters, managing a “Thanks,” as he starts to unload them.
Nancy hovers momentarily then walks up, taps him on the shoulder and kisses him. Mateo doesn’t respond at first, but when he does it’s sweet, and when Nancy pulls back, he’s blinking at her, doe-eyed.
“Was that okay?” She asks.
“Yeah.” His face cracks into a grin. “Here?”
“Why not? We can still be professional, right?”
“Yeah,” he repeats.
“Cool.”
She turns to head upstairs, but Mateo calls for her before she can get too far. “If you wanna tonight, maybe get your mind off stuff, let me know. Okay?”
Nancy smiles, grateful for the way he so easily alleviates some of what she’s feeling right now. “I’d love that.”
After she changes, Nancy returns to the kitchen to find most of the crew huddling around the box. Maybe stopping wasn’t such a bad idea after all. In fact, nearly half of the doughnuts are gone, if not cut into pieces — including one of Tim’s, but she tries not to think anything of it.
It’s a doughnut, it shouldn’t bother her as much as it does.
“Good morning,” TK greets cheerily as he slides up next to her. “This is for you.”
Nancy takes the proffered cup and forces an even expression. “Thanks.” The coffee is sweetened just enough, not like she expects anything less; TK's from New York, which means he knows how to order a damn good cup, jokes about being a pretentious coffee snob aside.
“Good?” He asks, and Nancy bumps his shoulder in response.
“Who brought these in?” Paul asks, pointing to the box.
“I did.” Nancy raises her hand. “Had some time to kill before work, figured this would be a nice little pick-me-up.” She can practically feel the look Mateo gives her from across the room, but she ignores it.
“It sure is,” Marjan agrees, picking apart a cruller. “Thanks, Nance.”
TK leans into her side. “You know if my dad sees these he’s going to threaten to throw them out, right?”
“Mateo already made that point. Which just means you guys have to eat them before he sees,” she prompts with a sharp wave of her hand. “Go.”
There’s a collective round of “oh’s” from everyone as they dive in for seconds and maybe thirds. TK has one half to his mouth as the bell goes off somewhere overhead.
Rescue 126 respond…possible femoral shaft fracture…
“That’s us,” he sighs. “Let’s go.”
“Yeah, coming.”
______
First responders need to be on their toes. Hesitation has consequences, and a clouded mind can prove faulty on the front lines.
But everyone has their days, and apparently today is Nancy’s, regardless of how hard she’s trying.
She should’ve seen it coming.
As soon as they parked at the high school soccer field where the injury was called in, she hopped out of the rig and started loading up on supplies, backpack slung over her shoulder. But as she went to slide the door shut, the sight of Tim’s name painted on the side had her stopped dead in her tracks for a moment.
It wasn’t until Tommy called her name that she managed to snap out of it.
At least…sort of. For a minute, anyway.
“Trauma shears, let’s see what we’re working with.”
“Here.”
“Nancy, run a line of morphine. Nancy?”
TK nudges her. “Nance.”
“Yeah, Cap.” She gets the line going and shortly after, keeping her head down as the boy they’re helping relaxes, his face moving from intense pain to mild discomfort.
“There you go, Kyle,” Tommy eases. “That’ll help with the pain.”
“Is m-my leg that bad?”
Nancy watches as Tommy’s lips pull into a line. “It’s a pretty nasty break,” she explains calmly, “but we’re going to get you all the help you need, okay?”
Kyle nods stiffly. “Yeah.”
“Can you wiggle your toes for me?” He does. “Good.”
“That’s good?”
“It means there’s no spinal damage,” Tommy explains. “There might be a possibility for some screws, but we won’t know anything for sure until they’ve done some x-rays on you. However, we need to reset your leg before we get moving, okay?”
He winces and nods again, his eyes squeezed shut. “I’m gonna puke.”
“We’ll do our best to make sure that doesn’t happen, ‘kay? This is my friend, TK, he’s going to give you a mild anesthetic while we do this, and then we’re home free.”
“Is it gonna hurt?”
“Only for a second,” TK responds, shuffling in, “but that’s what this stuff is for.” He holds up a syringe with a reassuring smile.
After a minute, Tommy gives Kyle’s arm a comforting rub before turning toward Nancy. “Nance, hold his shoulders,” she instructs, and honestly she’s grateful for the slight reprieve. “TK, help me out over here. On three. Ready?”
“Ready,” they both echo.
“Kyle, ready?”
“Sure,” he manages.
“One, two—“
Kyle cries out sharply, whimpering a moment later when TK secures the splint. He doesn’t puke, which makes their job a little bit easier. Once settled, the three of them get him on the gurney and start wheeling him off the field away from the soccer team that has since formed a semi-circle around the action.
“Kyle, your parents are gonna meet us at the hospital,” a man says, matching their stride. “I’m his coach, I’m coming with him.”
“We’ve got plenty of room in the back of the rig,” Tommy assures. “You can ride with us.”
The coach sighs in relief. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Nancy, call ahead to West Park, tell them we’re coming in and to prep for x-rays.”
“Copy.”
When Nancy slides silently into the passenger seat beside TK, she refuses to look his way. Because she knows — she knows —that he’s giving her a concerned look and she just can’t deal with that right now.
She’s never spaced out on a call; she’s always alert and reactive. Stumped occasionally, sure, but never spaced out.
“You good, Nance?” She finally hears him ask as they pull away from the curb, and all Nancy does in response is feign a smile and nod, managing a little “mm-hm” for good measure.
There’s a flash of TK lifeless in the storm, lips blue and naked body covered in snow after defib didn’t work.
You’re alive, she thinks to herself. How can I not be?
She grabs the radio and clicks it on, clearing her throat. “This is medical 1-2-6 en route paging West Park ER…”
“West Park ER responding to medical 1-2-6. Go ahead.”
“Seventeen year-old male with a femoral fracture. Requesting x-rays.”
“Copy. What’s your ETA?”
“Twelve minutes.”
“Copy, we’ll keep the bay clear. Over.”
Nancy hooks the radio back on the clip and keeps her gaze on the road ahead of them. She can see TK in her periphery but just like before, she remains static.
She stays in the rig when they pull up to the hospital, letting Tommy debrief the doctor who greets them at the door and TK to help wheel Kyle in.
She focuses on biting her lip and fixing the kink in the cord on the radio. At least, later on the only other call they have today, she’s more attentive.
______
hey thx for the donuts! hope ur days gotten better! still good 4 tonite?
Nancy smiles down at the text from Mateo. A not-so-small part of her was hoping she’d see him again before her shift ended, sneak a hug or something, but when the team got back to the station, fire was out on a call. Still, she appreciates it, even if the text was from a few hours ago. It’s fine, she’ll see him tonight anyway.
The smile, however, fades once Nancy sees the notification under Mateo’s text.
The reminder about Tim’s birthday is still there taunting her, blaring back at her as if to say she’s left him behind.
With little hesitation, Nancy deletes the recurring reminder in her calendar, locks her phone, and slams it down on the bench with maybe a little too much force.
“Nance? You okay?”
She startles a little, not having noticed Tommy entering the room. She’s out of her uniform and back in street clothes, her hands shoved in her back pockets.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you this quiet since the DNR incident.” Tommy tilts her head to the side. “What’s going on?”
“I’m fine,” Nancy dimisses. “Really.”
Tommy remains unmoving. “You sure? Because it kind of seems like something’s on your mind.”
“I’m good, Cap,” she tries again, forcing a smile. “Just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
“Okay.” She doesn’t sound convinced. Nancy’s pretty sure no one has today. Normally she’s good at hiding her feelings, putting on a mask and settling into the role for as long as she needs.
Today’s just…fucking hard.
“Get some rest tonight, then,” Tommy continues, “‘kay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Nancy gives her a nod as she pulls her hair back into a ponytail, turning toward her locker. She starts distractedly shoving things into her bag, not even worrying about how much of a mess it’ll be once she gets home.
This whole day has involved her trying to push the same thought out of her head, but it kept a hold on her like a vice. Even in the midst of emergency, it was still there, idling in the background just waiting for Nancy to pick it up again.
Somewhere between hanging her uniform shirt up and putting a stick of deodorant into the front pocket of her bag, she thinks of Tim in that yard, crushed by stray debris that were hotter than hell. Tommy had shielded her after they had both ran to where several people could be heard yelling, along with Captain Strand himself, but that remains burned in her memory — no pun intended.
It’s borderline haunting, because she sees this and then the rig, and there’s Tim and the effing volcano and the night she couldn’t leave the firehouse. And then she sees TK, happy and healthy and smiling and remembers how fucking scared she was in the snow despite maintaining decorum.
And then she looks at Tommy and remembers that she’s lost people, too. A lot of people, and not just at work.
Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it.
“My two best friends died on the job,” she blurts.
Fuck.
The truth is, Nancy has no idea if Tommy left or if she’s just speaking that into existence in an empty changing room. No one could be around, or someone she doesn’t really know from the b-team could be right behind her. If that’s the case, then this whole thing would be a little embarrassing.
But then there are footsteps followed by a careful hand on her shoulder and she whips around to find her captain and a sad smile, and Nancy just completely breaks.
It’s certainly not the first time Tommy’s seen her cry, and at this rate it won’t be the last.
“Nancy,” she hears, but she shakes her head.
“They both died,” she exclaims, gasping for air. “Tim and TK died and—and I lost them.”
“Honey, no, hey,” Tommy breathes, moving to cup her face. “You didn’t lose TK.”
“Yes. I did. You were there, Cap! His heart stopped. He died. That’s two.”
“What happened to Tim was a freak accident.”
“Yeah, well that doesn’t make it any better!”
“Of course it doesn’t, Nancy. But there was nothing we could have done. I think about that all the time.” She guides them both down onto the bench where her bag sits and clasps their hands together. “I didn’t know him, and the one interaction I had with him, I scolded him for making promises he didn’t know if he could keep. And then I made the same promise to my girls. I wish I knew Tim better, and more than anything I wish I could…do right by what I said.”
“Cap, they’re kids. You were just protecting them.”
It takes a moment before Tommy speaks again. “Maybe…If I had known what was going to happen…”
“But you didn’t,” Nancy insists. “We didn’t.”
“No,” she agrees. “So now the only thing we can do is move on.”
“And what? Forget him?”
Tommy shakes her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Because it sure as hell feels like everyone else has.”
The sentence hits with more force than she was expecting, despite the tone. It’s just…blunt. And there, and heavy with grief. But it’s also the truth; while everyone else has moved on, Nancy still has constant reminders of her best friend everywhere she turns. Sure, she’s happy, and who’s to say she hasn’t moved on as well, just not fully.
If she’s being honest with herself, she’s pretty sure TK’s the one who mentioned that no one ever truly moves on from grief. You just grow with it.
And while Nancy lost her best friend, the team lost a member, too. She wasn’t — isn’t — the only one grieving. But she thinks she’s allowed to be selfish and say it hurt her more than it hurt the others. She’s the one who called up Michelle to let her know what happened, she’s the one who cleared out Tim’s locker, sent all of it back to Maryland and she’s the one who sat for two hours on the phone with his parents telling them how great of a man he was, both as a friend and coworker. She did it again when she flew to Baltimore for his funeral.
A new and sudden pang of guilt hits her square in the chest, one in which she has to push away immediately — that TK replaced Tim.
In job position, maybe that can be argued, but as a partner in crime? As her best friend? There’s no replacing Tim.
And TK wouldn’t want her to think that, either.
“Nancy,” Tommy breathes, giving her a shake. “They didn’t know him like you did. And that’s okay.”
Without missing a beat, Nancy heaves forward and sobs, crashing all her weight into Tommy’s side as her arms wrap tight around her shoulders. It's reminiscent of the night Tim died, when she was telling her (then) new captain about Buster Keaton and Buster the cat.
“Do you think he’d be mad?” She asks lamely. “That things are kind of…normal again? That we moved on?”
Tommy offers her a sad smile. “It’s been over a year. He wouldn’t,” she says. “And I know that because I know Charles wouldn't either. The people we love never truly leave us. They just leave us with something else.”
Nancy brings a hand up to her eye and wipes away a tear. “What’s that?”
“Perspective,” Tommy replies after a beat. “And appreciation. For all the things you learned from them. That,” she emphasizes with a hand over her heart, “is what we need to carry with us.”
“Yeah.” Nancy nods. “Okay.”
Tommy hugs her, humming as she runs a hand up and down her spine. The comforting movement doesn’t stop until Nancy's breathing evens out. She feels completely wrecked, her head is pounding and she swears she could sleep for a week.
“Get yourself some water,” Tommy instructs, her hand moving from Nancy’s back to her hair. “And take two of these.”
She pulls out a blister packet of two ibuprofen from her bag, and Nancy takes them, flicking it between her thumb and forefinger. “Thanks,” she mumbles.
“No problem. And Nance? You know you can talk to me, right?”
She nods, fighting the tightness in her throat as she manages a, “Yeah, Cap. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Tommy smiles. “Yeah.”
As Nancy slings her bag over her shoulder to leave, Tommy stops her one last time.
“Hey. Maybe go see TK before you go.”
The rest is unspoken, the reasoning is right there: clear it up, see that he’s alive and physical and still messing around like he used to, even if Nancy just spent an entire shift with him.
Your best friend is still here.
But she should talk to him, Tommy’s right. There are some things that shouldn’t be left unsaid, and for her own wellbeing, Nancy needs to just say it.
She finds TK in the hall coming out of his dad’s office, dressed and ready to head home. He immediately brightens when he sees her.
“Hey, Nance!”
“Hey. You got a sec?”
“For you? Always,” he says as they make their way down to the main floor. “What’s up?”
At the base of the stairs, Nancy finds herself face-to-face with the portraits of everyone the 126 has lost; almost all of the old fire crew and, right there among them, smiling, is Tim, his name engraved on a little gold plack. It’s strange, now that she thinks about it, but she didn’t stop to look at it today despite everything.
Maybe it’s for the better.
TK silently appears at her shoulder, following her gaze to Tim’s picture.
“It’s his birthday today. And I kind of forgot.”
“You forgot?” TK asks.
Nancy shakes her head. “I almost forgot,” she corrects. “I still had the reminder in my phone up until about half an hour ago.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Please, don’t be.”
“Is that why you brought in doughnuts?”
“It was our thing,” she explains. “I can’t remember who started it, honestly, but Tim and I would bring in doughnuts on each other’s birthdays. I don’t know why, but I felt like bringing them in today even though he’s not here, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it,” TK says quietly. “Didn’t want to break tradition. I actually, uh, get my mom’s order from time to time when we get Chinese. And I know she only came by the loft once after we reopened, but I still have the tea she likes.” He shrugs, half-smiling. “I guess it’s the little things.”
“Guess so.”
There’s a pause, and suddenly it feels like the two of them have seemingly drifted off into their own grief.
It’s not until TK steps up to Tim’s picture and runs the sleeve of his hoodie over the frame to brush away some dust that she blurts out, “I almost got shot a few weeks ago.”
He just stares at her.
There are tears in her eyes once again, and at this point Nancy is genuinely starting to wonder if she’ll ever actually stop crying.
“I was in the back of the rig with that guy,” she chokes, “and someone shot him. And I could have died. Like…what the hell?”
“I know. But you’re here,” TK comforts. “You didn’t get hurt.”
“Yeah, but I could’ve! Or died or something and then that would have been three of us.”
“What?”
“TK, I watched you die! You died. We fucking got you out of the snow, thank god, but barely! Your heart stopped. You had no pulse. We had to use the freaking defibrillator on you three times before we got you back. And then the next forty-eight hours were just…hell. Because we didn’t know which way you were going.”
She’s fully sobbing and her hands are shaking, but Nancy is too far into this to actually stop. Through the tears, she can see TK’s set jaw and wide, shiny eyes.
“Nance,” he breathes. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”
She bounces on her toes anxiously. “It’s not like you did it on purpose,” she reasons, trying to calm herself. “But I just—I’m angry.” Her breath catches in her throat and somehow, inexplicably, she finds herself smiling weakly. Because it’s the truth, and she wasn’t expecting it. And by the looks of it, neither was TK. “Yeah. I’m angry because I already lost one best friend and I just…I couldn’t lose another.” She points to the photo of Tim on the wall. “I couldn’t save him.”
“Well I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, stepping up to her, but when Nancy gives him a look TK clamps his mouth shut. “Maybe that’s a little ambitious.”
Nancy actually laughs, appreciating the levity. “You think?”
“I promise to try not to die on the job anymore.” He raises his right hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“Were you even a boy scout?”
“I’ll have you know I was for a very short time when I was in third grade.”
“What made you quit?”
“I said that my dad was a firefighter and that he was cooler than the other kids’ parents.”
“And?”
TK rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “And…I might have picked a fight with one of the kids in the troop.”
“Awesome. Would expect nothing less.”
“Thanks,” he laughs.
After a moment, TK hugs her. Nancy sinks into it, holding tight.
She and Tim didn’t do this. They high-fived, checked up on each other with silent looks, bitched and moaned, but they never hugged. And while she considers both of them her best friends, Nancy has to admit that her friendship with TK resembles more of a found sibling relationship than anything else.
She supposes that once you get held hostage with someone and later on see his naked ass out in the snow on the brink of death, it’s only natural for it to shift to that state.
“You gonna be okay?” He asks, and Nancy sniffs.
“Yeah,” she says. “Promise.”
“Do you wanna come over for dinner tonight? Carlos is cooking.”
“Carlos always cooks.”
“Not always,” TK argues. “Just…most of the time.”
“Name one thing, right now, that you can cook without his help.”
“That’s unfair.”
“But am I wrong?”
“Do you wanna come over or not?” He deflects, laughing.
“I think Mateo and I were gonna do something,” she says.
“Why don’t you both come? We’ll make it an old-fashioned hang, I’ll text Paul and Marj.”
She gives him a look. “What’s your boyfriend gonna say about you suddenly inviting all of us over?”
“He won’t care, Nance.”
“You just said he’s cooking.”
“Eh.” He waves a hand. “We’ll figure it out.” A beat. “So, what do you say? Unless you wanted to hang out just you and Mateo.”
“No, I—” She cuts herself off. “That actually sounds really great. I think I need something like that after today.”
TK nods toward the bay. “Think he’ll mind?”
As if on cue, Nancy watches as the truck backs in and Mateo hops out a moment later, shrugging out of his turnout coat. He catches her eye from across the room and shoots her a smile, waving. She waves back, feeling suddenly lighter and god, she cannot wait to grab his hand and hug him.
“Nah, I don’t think he will.”
TK swings an arm over her shoulders as they walk, Nancy swaying into his side.
“So….I’m your best friend?” He asks, shooting her a smug look and if Nancy didn’t just cry half her weight in tears, she’d palm his head away from her.
“Shut up, dude.”
“No, just admit that I’m your best friend.”
“You’re quickly sliding down that ladder,” she admonishes.
“Right, but I’m your best friend so I can’t fall too far down.”
“That gross lizard’s about to take your spot.”
“Hey, Lou was not gross!”
She grimaces. “I cannot believe you named him.”
“What, he was adorable!”
“Dude, if you don’t shut up, I’m making you do all of the restocking and cleaning on the rig alone for the next week.”
“Just admit it, Nance—”
“I’m officially only coming over to see Carlos,” she decides, “and because you guys have good beer.”
TK positively grins. “Wouldn’t know,” he chimes. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Yeah,” Nancy breathes. “I’m glad you are, too.”
Later, when she’s surrounded by friends and laughing until her stomach hurts and crying for a good reason, Nancy doesn’t think about Tim. She doesn’t think about the day from hell she had or the call that killed him. At least not negatively, because Tommy was right; Tim did leave her with perspective and appreciation.
It’s here, surrounded by friends, that Nancy gives herself permission to move on.
After all, that’s what Tim would want.