Work Text:
The first few calls were pretty standard. All came from the same apartment building that had just opened up in the Valley, all with the same complaint.
Ceilings were leaking.
The dispatchers directed each caller to get into contact with their building’s maintenance team before logging the call and moving on to the next emergency. All routine. While some of the callers sounded panicked, they all seemed to understand that this wasn’t an emergency that required calling 9-1-1.
No one realized that all the calls were coming from the same building.
Over the course of four hours, six different calls were made from six different people, handled by six different dispatchers from two different call centers, and no one put the pieces together.
It was only number seven that registered as a true emergency.
“My ceiling just caved in and took out part of my floor! I hear screaming!”
The 118 was rerouted to head towards the call, having just dealt with a large bumper to bumper accident at the 405-110 interchange. Because of the location, they would get there closer before being assisted by some of the Valley’s own crews.
From the moment the truck stopped, Buck knew this was going to be a major emergency. For one, people were coming stumbling out, all covered in dust and injuries, helping others to get out of the way. For another, he could hear the calls for help just from the ground thanks to broken winders. And there were multiple.
“Alright, Buck, Eddie, get up the ladder and start at the top. Ravi and Lucy, from the bottom. Hen, Chim, prepare a triage across the street, prepare for casualties. As soon as the other crews arrive you’ll have some more help.” Bobby’s orders were firm, eyes locked on the six story building. The only saving grace right now was that there wasn’t any fire, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud.
Everyone immediately broke and made their way to their respective positions, with Buck scaling the ladder first. They ended up having to adjust on the fly as the first window was blocked by a large bookcase that was unmovable, but the second was clear.
Carefully he climbed into the apartment, taking in the damage for the first time. It was a small studio apartment. The room’s entire floor was gone, leaving only a foot wide path along one of the load baring walls. The bookcase was stuck halfway through what was left of the floor, jammed on top of an armoire with a support beam pressing down on top of it.
“LAFD, call out!” Buck yelled, carefully testing each patch of floor before moving forward. He paused with each call out, listening carefully for any signs of life on the current floor.
“Anything?” Eddie said, coming through the window next and surveying the scene.
“No, nothing yet,” Buck replied, taking the final few steps to the apartment door. He carefully opened it to see only one other door across from this one. “Buckley to Incident Command, be advised that there are only two apartments on the top floor. Checking the second now before moving down.”
“Copy Buckley.”
The other door was ajar, making checking it easy. Unlike the first apartment, this one was completely in tact. Eddie glanced over his shoulder and noted that as well.
“Damage is only to the front of the building, it looks like.” They quickly searched the small room before beginning their journey downwards.
Two hours later, all four firefighters of the 118 that had endured the building were camped out in a row against their truck. All exhausted, covered in dust and rubble, and all smelling like cooking oil. They were chugging back bottles of water to ward off the dehydration and the Californian summer heat.
It had been Ravi and Lucy who had figured out what had happened. They had made their way to the third floor while Buck and Eddie were rescuing a few children and a mother from the fifth. When they stepped into the apartment, they found what looked like the pieces of a industrial kitchen scattered haphazardly, looking as though they’d just fallen several flights. They also noticed that at least one of the fryers was filled with cooking oil and the fryer was badly damaged.
Ravi figured that someone had decided to store the equipment on the roof for a time, probably while trying to secure a restaurant space. However, while the building was newly renovated, the crew had cut corners, including shoring up the roof to make it stronger. The weight was becoming too much and that’s what led to the roof collapse.
Once Ravi mentioned that in Bobby’s earshot, he relayed the theory to Athena and Lou Ransone, who quickly tracked down the tenant for the top floor studio that wasn’t damaged by luck. The man was down on his luck and had just lost his restaurant only weeks after ordering the new equipment. So, he had stored it on the roof while he tried for another location. He didn’t want to sell it.
By some miracle, he wouldn’t be facing manslaughter charges. The residents had escaped the collapse with some injuries, with the worst person still expecting to survive.
As for the cooking oil, he finally fessed up that he’d stored a few bottles of the oil in the same place, but they were old containers and were prone to leaking. Which had led to the leaks into the apartments.
Once they had the all clear and finished red tagging the building until it could be repaired and inspected, all four exhausted firefighters dragged themselves back into the truck and practically collapsed on one another.
After he settled in his front seat, Bobby turned around and said, “So, how about fried chicken for lunch?”
As it turned out, Bobby had gotten really good at dodging. The amount of gloves that almost hit his head was shocking.