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Bobby hated the snow.
It hadn’t always been like that. There had been a time, he remembered, when Charlie would chase him around the yard, laughing and shoving cold wet clumps of it down the back of his jacket and in turn Bobby would shower him with snowballs until they both had lost all feeling in their limbs and their mom would call them inside, for hot chocolate and cookies, with dad already sleeping, passed out Bobby would realize later, on the couch.
Things had changed a lot since then.
For one, he was living in LA now. For a second, he was much older, closer to his father now in more ways than just age, despite the fact that the man had been dead for the better part of the last thirty years.
He hadn’t spoken to Charlie or his mother since the funeral and for that one he had been too much in a haze to recollect anything anyone had said. All he remembered were the judgemental looks.
All he remembered was being a failure as a father.
All he remembered were the small, charred bodies being laid down in front of him, on the cold, snow covered concrete.
All he thought of now was that he had celebrated too soon, when he took the post in LA with the thought that at least he would never have to see or feel snow again.
Because now the damn city was covered in it.
“3 inches isn’t ‘covered’” He had heard the new kid argue at the beginning of the shift. “It’s literally Christmas, guys. It’s normal, right?”
“White Christmas in LA?” Han, Bobby was still getting used to the nickname Chimney, had shot back, “kid, that’s like putting a full moon and friday the thirteenth into a blender and giving it a good shake. People are turning all kinds of cray-cray and city wide infrastructure is breaking down.”
“Didn’t hinder any of us from getting to work, did it?” Buckley had argued back with a smug grin, before turning to Bobby. “What do you think, Cap? You’re from Minnesota right? So this must be nothing to you.”
But before Bobby could shoot back that any unusual weather could break any city's back that wasn’t built to deal with it, the first alarm had sounded. And then they had spent the whole shift on their feet, rushing from one car crash to the next, between being called to resolve a mass-brawl in a supermarket over the last available Hickory Honey Ham and shoveling snow in some nice old lady’s driveway. Bobby had let the misuse of emergency service slip, because she was clearly just lonely and there hadn’t been any other urgent calls.
She also had immediately fallen in love with Buckley’s boyish face and slipped him a box of cookies ,to share with his nice colleagues, before they had left.
At the end of the shift, Bobby thanked God that there hadn’t been any lethal accidents, and a bit more selfishly, that he didn't have to spend another Christmas seeing dead children in the snow.
The roof of the station was covered in snow too, the city spread out all around him. Bobby liked coming here after particularly long shifts, to work on his records in privacy.
A year. Almost more than a year now since he had lost… since he had killed them and the little book in his hands felt so heavy despite being so empty still.
He closed his eyes and took a deep, smoke-free breath of the icy air. If he tried hard enough, he might just be able to imagine being on another roof, in another time. Imagine a world where hadn’t taken that second drink up there that had most likely saved his life, or one where he had never taken the first one that had doomed so many others.
A loud bang startled him and his eyes shot open just in time to witness the explosion of colors in the night sky.
Shortly after more fireworks followed.
He had a feeling that New Year's Eve at least would add a lot more names to his list. The book had fallen in the snow.
“Looks like it’s going to be a long night for Athena.”
Bobby tried, and probably failed, not to look too startled and he thought he composed himself rather quickly, but Hen’s knowing smile when she joined his side to watch told him he was fooling no one.
“You’re still here?” He asked while picking up the book.
From their short time working together he knew she had been part leader of the pack and part everyone’s big sister before Bobby had become captain here, but he also knew for a fact that between Chimney's doomed relationship and Buckley who was seemingly trying to break some sort of one-nightstand record, she was one of the few people who had an actual family at home waiting for her.
“Roads are blocked and covered in ice. And Karen says she’d rather see me for christmas lunch than never again at all.”
Bobby just nodded, not quite sure what to say.
He fiddled with the book, the pages were probably soaked, but he couldn’t open it. Not in front of her.
The fireworks had stopped. They stood there in silence, but he knew she was itching to ask like she had done before.
He hadn’t reacted well then.
And yet, in this sudden tranquility, in this holiest of holy nights, he thought he might be ready to confess his sins.
Then the station siren went off, the moment was lost in the ruckus of the crew from the C shift leaving in two engines.
He slipped the book into his pocket. “You should get some rest.” He said and then added, “You did a good job today. You and the whole crew. Every day really, I don’t know if I mention that often enough.”
“Aww look at you, Iceman.” Hen chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re starting to thaw now.”
He shrugged a bit awkwardly. They really were a good crew after all.
“How about you come downstairs and tell all of us again. Buck’s making hot chocolate. Hearing that his captain actually appreciates him will be like Christmas for the kid.”
Bobby threw up his hands in feigned exasperation. “Well I was planning on freezing to death out here, but I guess now I have to check if my kitchen is still standing.”
Hen laughed and patted his shoulder. “That’s the spirit, Cap.”
He followed her to the door and paused to look back.
Bobby hated the snow.
But the cold wouldn’t last.