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The smoke was so thick in the hallway that Lucy could barely breathe, but she kept moving anyway.
She dragged people out of offices, from behind desks, hands grasping at her uniform, bodies heavy and uncooperative as she half-carried, half-pulled them toward the exits.
By the time she deposited the third person in the courtyard, her arm was screaming. She glanced down just long enough to register blood and glass embedded in her skin, sharp and glittering, before she turned back toward the building without slowing.
Fire was everywhere. Heat pressed in on her from all sides, searing her lungs, and she fought the flash of memory: trees burning, smoke choking the sky, the crackle of flames closing in.
Not now.
She shoved it down and kept going.
The scene was chaos. Blue uniforms blurred with civilians, shouting and coughing and stumbling past her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was sure she’d seen Tim, bent beside an older man, steadying him, guiding him forward, but they vanished behind a pillar, swallowed by smoke.
She spun, heart pounding.
“Hey,” she grabbed Officer Jan by the arm. “Have you seen Tim?”
He shook his head, eyes wide, and before she could say anything else, an explosion of flame tore through the hallway.
The force knocked them both to the ground.
Lucy blinked through the pain, ears ringing, and pushed herself up with a groan. Around her, people scrambled and screamed, and she ran, scanning faces as she went.
“Tim?”
Blackened faces stared back at her, soot-streaked, panicked, but none of them had the familiar blue eyes she was searching for.
“Tim!”
Her voice cracked this time.
She stopped, forcing herself to breathe, to slow her racing thoughts and actually look.
He wasn’t out here.
There was no way he was out here.
Tim would have found her already.
Fire trucks screamed to a halt at the curb, firefighters spilling out, hauling equipment. She caught sight of another respirator and snatched it without hesitation.
Then she turned and sprinted back toward the building.
A hand grabbed her arm, rough and urgent.
“What do you think you’re doing?” A firefighter yanked at her uniform. “You can’t go back in there!”
“I have to find someone,” she shot back, adrenaline roaring in her ears.
“It’s too dangerous!”
He reached for her again, but she twisted free, already moving, already running, back into the smoke, into the fire.
It was worse than before.
The heat was so intense she had to raise her hand in front of her face, shielding her skin as she pushed forward. The hallway was dark, choked with smoke, visibility reduced to nothing but shifting shadows.
Still, she pressed on.
When she reached his office, the flames were vicious, licking up the walls, and the sight beyond the doorway made her heart drop straight into her chest.
She froze, just for half a second.
Tim was motionless beneath his desk.
Too still. Crushed low to the floor, surrounded by smoke and debris.
She was too late.
“No,” she whispered, the word breaking apart as it left her mouth.
It couldn’t end like this. Her future, their future, couldn’t just vanish in a rush of heat and smoke.
A life not yet lived slammed into her all at once. Shared dinners filled with laughter. A white dress. Walking down the aisle toward him. Tim cradling their first child, then another, his soft smile reserved only for them. Years stacking up, more laughter, more kids, growing old together, his curmudgeonly edges sharpening in ways she secretly loved.
This couldn’t be it.
“Tim!”
His name tore out of her before she could stop it.
Then he groaned.
His head shifted, just slightly.
The relief hit her so hard her knees nearly buckled.
“Tim,” she said again, rushing into the room.
He coughed weakly, one hand lifting toward the desk as if to push it away, then falling back down, useless. The sound tore at her chest. He’d been in here too long. Crushed. Breathing smoke.
Lucy crossed the room in three strides and grabbed the leg of the desk.
It didn’t budge.
For a split second, doubt flickered, then, something fierce and unyielding took over.
She planted her feet, ignored the way her injured arm screamed, and pulled.
Adrenaline surged through her veins, burning hot and wild, and the desk lifted, just enough.
“Move,” she urged, breathless.
Tim dragged himself forward, inch by inch, until he cleared the weight. The second he was free, he tried to sit up, but a violent coughing fit seized him, doubling him over before he collapsed back to the floor.
His eyes were glassy now, unfocused.
That wouldn’t work.
Lucy straightened, forcing calm into her spine, into her voice.
“Bradford!”
The command cut through the smoke.
His gaze snapped to hers, focus flickering back in for a heartbeat. She grabbed his hand and pulled, but her arms trembled uselessly, she’d spent everything lifting the desk.
Another harsh cough wracked his body, and he groaned, sinking back again.
“Bradford,” she said again, lower but no less firm. “Stay with me.”
She tugged the oxygen mask off her own face and fitted it over his, hands steady despite the chaos roaring around them.
“Breathe,” she ordered. “Now.”
The effect was almost immediate. His chest rose more evenly, his grip tightening faintly around her hand. When she pulled this time, he came with her, heavy, unsteady, but moving.
She braced him against her shoulder, half carrying, half dragging him toward the door.
They made it into the hallway just as two firefighters rushed toward them.
“We’ve got him,” one of them said, already taking Tim’s weight.
Lucy didn’t let go until they had him fully, until she saw the gurney, the open ambulance, the sunlight flooding the courtyard.
Only then did she stop.
Only then did her knees finally threaten to give out.
The courtyard was chaos, sirens screaming, firefighters shouting, bodies moving everywhere, but Lucy barely registered any of it.
Her hands were still on Tim.
“Hey,” she said softly, leaning in closer. “You’re okay. You’re out. You’re safe.”
His lashes fluttered.
The gurney jolted as they lifted it, and instinctively she moved with it, one hand still gripping his. Only when a paramedic gently blocked her path did she finally stop.
“He’s going in the ambulance,” the paramedic said. “You can’t ride unless-”
“I’m coming,” she said, voice steady, leaving no room for argument.
The paramedic took one look at her, soot-streaked, shaking, eyes locked on Tim, and sighed, “Okay. Let’s go.”
The ambulance doors slammed shut behind them, muting the chaos outside.
Inside, the space was tight and bright, all sharp lights and controlled urgency. Lucy sat on the edge of the bench, her knee pressed against the gurney, her hand still wrapped around Tim’s.
The medic worked quickly, efficient and calm, calling out numbers Lucy tried very hard not to fixate on.
Tim shifted, a faint sound escaping him.
“Lucy.”
The way he said her name, rough, barely there, hit her harder than anything else had.
“I’m here,” she said immediately, leaning closer. “I’ve got you.”
His fingers tightened weakly around hers, like he was afraid she might disappear if he didn’t hold on.
She squeezed back. “You scared me,” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Then, softer, fiercer: “Don’t ever do that again.”
His mouth twitched, the barest hint of a smile beneath the mask.
“Yes ma’am,” he rasped.
Her laugh came out broken, wet, and she pressed her forehead briefly against the edge of the gurney, breathing him in, smoke and antiseptic and Tim.
“You’re alive,” she said, like she needed to say it out loud.
His grip tightened once more, grounding, real.
And for the first time since she’d run back into the fire, Lucy let herself relax.
The hospital room was quiet, both of them still settling into the shock of what had just happened.
Lucy sat on the edge of the bed, feet barely touching the floor, the soft hospital gown sliding down her shoulder every time she shifted. She winced slightly as the doctor removed shard after shard from her arm, the numbing shot not quite masking the pain.
Tim sat beside her, also in a hospital gown, his shoulder brushing hers. His face was marked with bruises and blood that hadn’t quite washed away, but his eyes were clear now. Focused.
On her.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Lucy stared at the far wall, jaw tight, hands folded together in her lap like she was afraid they might start shaking if she let them go. She could still feel the heat. Smell the smoke. See him lying there, unmoving.
“Thanks for the save,” Tim said quietly.
She huffed out a breath that was almost a laugh. “It’s what we do.”
“Although,” she turned to look at him, “It would be so great if we never had to survive a fire again.”
Her lips turned up in a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes before her gaze flicked down to her hands.
He tilted his head, studying her. “Lucy.”
That did it.
She turned to him again, eyes shining, and this time, she didn’t try to hide it. “I thought I lost you,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “I got there and you weren’t moving and I…” Her throat closed. She swallowed hard. “That feeling...I don’t ever want to feel that again.”
Tim’s expression softened, something raw and unguarded breaking through the usual steadiness. “You came back for me.”
“Of course I did,” she said, like there had never been another option. “I will always come back for you.”
His mouth curved into the smallest smile. “I know how dangerous that was.”
She shrugged, eyes dropping. “I didn’t really think about it.”
He reached for her hand, slow, careful, and laced his fingers through hers. The contact grounded her instantly.
“I heard you,” he said after a moment. “All I could think about was you, when those flames…they seemed to be everywhere, and I just closed my eyes. I tried to accept it. The end. But then I heard you. That’s what pulled me back.”
Her eyes snapped to his. “You heard me?”
He nodded. “You sounded… scared. And then bossy.” A pause. “It helped.”
A tear slipped free before she could stop it. She laughed weakly and wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand. “I was terrified,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared.”
The doctor looked up at them, sensing the brevity of the moment.
“I’m going to go check your x-rays,” he said to Tim, standing up, seeming ready to give them space, “But don’t get up, I think you have a broken rib, but I want to be sure.”
Tim nodded and Lucy moved closer to him, carefully, until her thigh made contact with his.
Tim squeezed her hand, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “Don’t. You don’t have to apologize for almost dying.”
His lips pressed together, emotion flickering across his face. “Then let me say thank you…again.”
She met his gaze, heart pounding. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“I do,” he said softly. “I owe you everything. I’ve said it before. And I still mean it. I love you.”
The words hung there, undeniable, true.
“I love you too,” Lucy leaned her head against his shoulder, exhaustion finally winning. He shifted just enough to accommodate her, resting his cheek against her hair. For the first time since the fire, her breathing slowed.
They stayed like that, quiet and close, bloody and bruised, the sounds of the hospital just audible beyond the open door.
Neither one of them seemed to hear it, safe with each other, their bond stronger than any peril, any danger they might face.
And with that, they both finally let themselves breathe.