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Being a firefighter was a hard job. Raven knew this before she entered the academy. Knew when she graduated. Knew when she became a candidate. But being a firefighter during the Holidays, especially Christmas, was even harder. Damn near impossible. Everyone told her this. Everyone warned her. She believed them, of course, they had more years than her. But she’d never seen it specifically. She’d seen some horrible shit on the job, like they all had. She’d fallen to her knees, ash covering her from head to toe, smoke in her lungs and the fire still burning in her eyes because of what she’d witnessed. She’d almost lost herself to it, but was always able to pull herself back.
Firefighters saw horrific things on the job, Raven grew to learn, but she never saw something as horrible as she did on the Christmas Eve of 2015.
“Who’s cooking this beast?” Miller asked, slapped his hand on the large thawed ham sitting on top of the stove.
“Not you.” Murphy muttered from the couch, turning and giving the other man a little smirk before returning to his TV program. Miller flipped him off, and as if Murphy could sense it he held up his middle finger and returned the gesture without turning his head back.
“The Candidate is.” Lincoln answered from the head of the table.
Lexa snorted, shook her head. “I can’t cook.”
Everyone looked up at her, their eyebrows raised, then to Lincoln, their Captain, who was trying to hide an amused smirk. “The Candidate always cooks Christmas Eve dinner.” He said simply. Lexa looked towards Raven, the dark haired woman sitting at the other end of the table, flipping through a newspaper, acting like she was interested.
Raven felt the younger girls eyes on her, looked up. “Don’t look at me. Just because you’re dating my best friend doesn’t mean I can go against the Captain.” It wasn’t like Lincoln would make a big deal out of it—he was pretty much lenient until he had to be hard. It was just tradition; all Candidates got treated the same. Raven did, and Lexa would, too.
“But I—“ Lexa’s further argument was cut off by a loud voice coming from above them.
“Truck 31, Squad 4, Ambulance 61, train collision between Broadway Avenue and Hendrix Street.”
A female’s voice echoed through the speakers of the firehouse, making everyone stop what they were doing and listen tentatively. After the intercom went off, everyone jumped into action. Raven gulped down the rest of her coffee, pushed herself away from the table and jogged towards the truck. She quickly layered on her gear, slipped on her shoes, grabbed her helmet, and jumped in the back of Truck 31.
Lincoln slid in the passenger seat and Miller switched the siren on, then put the truck in drive and proceeded towards the accident.
“Ready for your first train collision, Candidate?” Wells asked, nudging Lexa in the arm. She nodded, though Raven could tell she was nervous by the way she twisted her hands in her lap. Of course she was nervous; she’d only been on the job for three months. Raven had been a firefighter for two years and she still got nervous whenever there were big calls like this one. All of them did.
They arrived on scene within ten minutes, and as they all piled out of the trucks they stood in silence, in awe at the scene laid out in front of them: two trains, at least from the looks of it, had collided into each other. Smoke rose from all angles of the burnt and jagged metal. Parts of the trains were scattered everywhere, some standing up, some of their sides, some in more pieces than they could count. Bodies were on the ground, hanging from the train parts. Raven expected to hear screams, but all was silent.
“Okay, let’s get to work!” Anya, their Chief commanded from the left.
“Yes, Chief.” Lincoln and Indra, Captain of Squad 4, shouted in unison and then broke off in their designated teams.
“Triage will be up here in the open.” Octavia informed as she and Monty started unloading supplies from the back of the ambulance. The slender girl looked up to Raven, her girlfriend, from her position on the ground. Their faces mirrored the same expression they always did before they went out on calls together.
Be careful. Don’t do anything stupid. I love you.
Raven nodded once, then followed after her Captain and the rest of her team. “Look for survivors.” Lincoln ordered. They all broke away from each other, calling out to the victims of the train.
It was, inevitably, the worst call Raven had ever been on. She’d seen terrible things, but nothing quite like this. In the second passenger car she entered there was a woman hanging from the ceiling, being supported by jutting beams. Raven couldn’t look at her face as she checked her pulse. Dead. Not that she expected anything else. The dark haired woman continued down the aisle, stepping over broken glass and luggage, carefully keeping watch for any people.
“Fire Department, call out!” She shouted a few times as she continued to check the pulses of the bodies on the train. Men, women, children—oh, the children. It was the children that really got to her. Their little bodies, they’re innocent faces. They didn’t deserve for tragic things to happen to them. No one did, but them…them especially.
She was about to exit the passenger car when she heard the faint echo of something clanging against metal. She froze, tuned in her ears, tried to concentrate on that one noise. It echoed two more times. Raven turned and quickly made her way to the back of the car, bending and searching for the source of the noise. It was when she got to the opening in the back, where the car had been ripped away from another one, that she heard the soft whines of a woman.
“Fire Department, call out!” She shouted, jumping down off the back of the car and looking out into the mess of the wreckage.
“H-help—h-ere…here…down…d-down here!” A strangled voice shouted from below her. Raven turned around, looked down, saw nothing. She was about to repeat the mantra again, but the voice spoke once more, even more breathless, “Un…under…” Raven’s eyes grew wide when she realized that the woman was trapped beneath the car. Without hesitation, she got to her knees and looked under the car. Thankfully it was caught on something, so the back was suspended off the ground, just far enough so that she could see under it.
But she wished she couldn’t.
In the middle back of the car, lying on her side was a young woman, a teenager, Raven guessed. Her face was toward Raven, covered in blood and dirt, her eyes wide in shock and horror and pain. Her right arm was extended towards Raven, what looked like a piece of scrap metal in her palm, probably what she used to hit against the underside of the train to get someone’s attention. Raven could just barely make out her torso, but after that, everything was cloaked in metal.
“Hey, hey, I’m here. I’m here, what’s your name?” Her tone was gentle, low, sweet. They’d trained you at the academy how to talk to victims, but you could never really be prepared until you actually spoke to one. Raven had spoken to many victims before—burned, bleeding, stabbed, trapped in their cars—but never like this. Never trapped under a train. She had to keep her composure. She had to—everything depended on it.
The girl’s chest heaved once, twice, then she spoke, “Maya.” She answered slowly, cringing, biting back a scream.
“Okay, Maya, I’m going to go get help, I’ll be right back.”
She went to get up, but the girl’s frantic shriek stopped her, “Wait! P-please—please don’t go. Don’t leave me!” She pleaded, her voice cracking with sobs.
Raven hung her head, bit the inside of her mouth hard, controlled her voice when she spoke, “Maya, I’m going to be right back, okay? I have to go get help.”
“You—you promise?” She cried.
Raven nodded, her voice steady, “I promise.” She assured.
“O-okay.” Maya nodded slightly, tears spilling down her face.
Raven scrambled to her feet, ran to triage. It was chaos up there, people moaning and crying, bleeding from every surface. Some weren’t moving, weren’t pleading for help, and those were the ones Raven couldn’t stop staring at. But she made herself as she approached Chief Anya, Lincoln, and Octavia.
She cleared her throat, said, “I have a girl trapped under part of a passenger car. She’s coherent, responsive. I don’t know the extent of her injuries—the bottom of her torso is covered by metal. But she’s alive.”
Octavia nodded, turned to Monty and started gathering the supplies that they would need. Lincoln turned to Miller, told him to grab the saw and a few other tools they could use to free the girl. The four of them followed Raven back to the car. “Miller, Lincoln, see if there’s a way to cut through the metal without injuring her further.” Anya ordered. The two of them nodded, then disappeared on the other side of the car. Octavia got to her knees, crawled under the car a little to get a better look at the girl. Raven followed down beside her.
“Hey, Maya, my name’s Octavia, I’m gonna check your vitals, okay?” Maya nodded, said, nothing. Octavia stayed silent as she checked her pulse, pressed on her chest and ribcage a little.
“I can’t feel my legs.” Her voice was strongly calm, dethatched. Then she coughed violently, muttered a few curse words. Blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth.
Octavia side eyed Raven, jerked her head towards back outside. Raven furrowed her eyebrows, was about to ask her what was wrong, but then she spoke, “I’ll be right back, Maya.” Then the tan girl grabbed her girlfriend’s arm, pulled her out from under the car and to her feet. She looked Raven in the eyes. She didn’t say anything but the hopeless look on her face said volumes.
“Oh, no.” Raven groaned, running her hands through her hair.
“What?” Anya asked.
Before Octavia could answer, Lincoln and Miller appeared from behind the car. “We can cut through.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Raven muttered bitterly.
“The metal is crushing the lower half of her body.” Octavia interjected quickly. Their faces fell in understanding. “I don’t even know if her lower body intact.” She hissed lowly, trying to make sure that Maya couldn’t hear. “And even if she did, if you were to cut her out she would bleed out within seconds. There’s just—there’s no way she’s making it out from below that train. Not alive.” She hated admitting it, but it was true. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.” Her tone was defeated. She looked at Raven, her eyes apologetic. The darker girl nodded, squeezed her eyes shut, pinched her nose.
“Okay, go back to triage. More ambulances are on the way.” Anya informed. Monty nodded, patted Raven on the shoulder as he walked past her. Octavia squeezed her hand before she followed behind Monty.
Raven looked at her coworkers, inhaled deeply. “I’ll tell her.” Anya nodded, then Raven bent down and scooted as far under the train as her body would allow. “Hey, Maya, how you doing?”
Maya turned to her, smiled meekly. “I’m not getting out of here, am I?”
Raven shook her head. “No,” Was all she could say in fear of her voice cracking.
“I’m going to die.” The young girl stated. Raven’s chest tightened, her eyes stung with tears. She turned her head towards the firefighter, held out her shaking hand to her. “Will you stay with me?”
Raven smiled, small and sad, nodded a little. “Yeah, of course. Of course I’ll stay.”
They arrived back at the firehouse three hours later, all disheveled, all exhausted, all haunted. There were no more arguments about who would be cooking Christmas Eve dinner, because they were having no dinner—at least, not the huge feast they had planned at the beginning of Shift. They sat in silence, some in the table, some outside, some in front of the TV that wasn’t on.
Raven had found herself in the locker room, sitting on the bench, clutching it so tight her knuckles had turned white and her arms were shaking. Over and over she replayed the incidence of the day—kept coming back to one person in particular.
Maya Vie.
She had been eighteen, just graduated high school, was coming up to visit her girlfriend for the Holidays and to look at colleges. She wanted to study marine biology. She had a dog back at home name Piper, a German Shepherd that was her world. She lived with her dad. Her mom died when she was a kid. She was happy.
She was happy.
She was happy.
And now she was gone. Just like that, she was erased from this world. She would never get into college, never become a marine biologist, never get to see her dad or her girlfriend or her dog again.
She was dead.
Raven had watched the life drain out of her and there wasn’t a goddamn thing that she could do about it.
She didn’t hear someone walk in the room, didn’t notice someone sit beside her until she felt their hand on top of hers. She looked over, saw Octavia next to her, staring straight ahead. Raven clutched her hand back, stayed silent. Raven was thankful that Octavia didn’t make her talk about the things that were bothering her. Thankful that she understood.
In House relationships usually burned out before they got started, but not with them. They got each other, knew how to separate House from Home. Made it work.
Raven leaned her head down on Octavia’s shoulder, sighed deeply, let a few tears trickle down her face that she couldn’t shed back at the crash site. Her girlfriend stayed quiet, ran her free hand through Raven’s tangled hair.
They had told her. Warned her about certain calls on the Holidays that could break a person. She somewhat understood before, but she completely understood now.