I needed more Marco. There is never enough Marco.
Cross-posted on AO3 under xcourtney_chaoticx
You feel that you've been at this brush fire for years. You are tired. You are exhausted. There is smoke in your nose and your mouth and your eyes and your lungs. Chet stands there with you the whole time, sometimes at your back to brace you, sometimes at your front so you can brace him, sometimes at your side holding another line. He stumbles once, and the sight makes your heart leap into your throat. He is thankfully uninjured, just exhausted, just like you. The planes and helicopters keep dropping water. The firemen keep making control lines, keep spraying water, keep fighting back the flames. Your efforts all seem useless.
The flames refuse to die. When they are beaten back in one place, they grow with a vengeance in another. The fire has been raging for a week, and your shift has been there for four of those days, working long, arduous, filthy hours. Today, you and Chet are there on OT, taking the place of others who were injured. Both of you are single, so you're ideal candidates. If something happens to you, at least you only orphan a couple cats, and Mama will take good care of Rosa and Tito for you, will keep them nice and fat and happy. The two of you pick up naps here and there, leaning against each other, sitting on the ground, in metal chairs, the side of an engine. Twenty minutes of sleep, and it's back to fighting the blaze.
You smell it before you see anything, something fresh and almost sweet under the smoke. It makes you look up. You reach back, grabbing for Chet, wanting to get his attention, pointing to the northern horizon. Clouds are rolling in toward the blaze: low, thick, dark, heavy. There's a lull in which every eye turns to the sky. Lightning could mean more fire, but if it's just rain… You pray for rain, for only rain. It seems everyone is. You can't hear thunder over the roar of the fire, can't see lightning flashing in the clouds. Every fireman is temporarily transfixed by the oncoming storm.
Everyone redoubles their efforts, gets a new burst of energy from the thought of rain. All present work harder to fight the flames in an attempt to aid Mother Nature, to show Her how badly you all want this fire out. Perhaps if She knows, She will take pity on you poor mortals fighting this blaze. You plant your feet firmly and open up the hose, trying to kill the flames closing in on you. Chet mirrors your position beside you. You have forgotten one thing, however…
The coming rain brings wind, is driven by the wind, and the wind, though it be cool and damp, drives the flames closer to you. You and Chet unconsciously step closer to each other. Fire roars around you, flames darting out, taunting you, licking closer and closer. The two of you take a few necessary steps back but don't want to admit defeat. Chet cries out for both of you to leave, that the fire is closing in. You don't want to give in to the flames, don't want to let them win, but you need to live to fight another day. Just as both of you turn to leave, the wind shifts, and a wall of flame cuts off your escape. You feel your eyes go wide behind your safety glasses.
Instinctively, you reach for Chet, for your friend, your brother, your partner. Trapped. You look around wildly, desperately seeking an escape and finding none. Chet tugs at your arm and points at the ground. Everything where you're standing, for a twenty-five foot radius, is already completely burnt. The whipping wind brings you oxygen through the flames. Mother Nature is protecting you and your partner. You begin to send prayers to Her, knowing your fate is entirely in Her hands. Chet stays close by, too close for normal interaction, but you both need it now, need to know that you are not alone. You tug him closer, flush against your side, and he grasps your arm in a death grip.
There it is again, the scent of something clean and fresh and almost sweet. It begins to overpower the smell of smoke that has sat so long in your nose and throat. Chet's head is on a swivel, still seeking an escape. You cast your eyes up toward the sky. It's raining. Fat droplets fall from the thick, dark clouds, spotting your safety glasses, pinging off your helmet. You shake Chet to get his attention and gesture upward. The wind whips around you as the rain pours down in a deluge. The rain drives into the flames, pushing them back, striking a fatal blow.
Chet pulls off his helmet and safety glasses, grinning widely. You follow his lead, reveling in the feeling of the cool rain hitting your skin. On impulse, the two of you let out a whoop and pull off your turnout coats, laughing joyously like children playing in puddles. You throw your head back to let the rain into your mouth. It is clean and sweet, cleansing your throat of the gritty smoke. Chet leans into you, still grinning, still riotously happy. And why shouldn't he be? Why shouldn't you be? It was not long ago now that you were sure the two of you were going to die, and now you are being saved by the rain, cleansed by the rain, revived by the rain. You throw your arms around Chet in a soaked and joyful hug he gleefully returns, both happy to just be alive.
You think perhaps the two of you will get some funny looks when you return to the command post, turnouts over your shoulders and soaked to the skin, but several other firemen look much the same. The rain has revived everyone. Firemen lie around in freshly wet grass and chase each other with handfuls of mud. Johnny, also doing OT today, hurries over from the paramedic station, grinning from ear to ear.
"Marco! Chet! Boy, am I glad to see you guys!" he exclaims, "Nobody'd heard from ya for almost an hour! I-I thought maybe-… it's just really good to see you guys. Here, come with me, you're both shiverin' real bad…"
He takes you both into the paramedic station and wraps you in some blankets to warm you up before shuffling off to check on another fireman. You turn to Chet and ask him quietly, "Hey, you okay, amigo?"
Chet smiles softly, replying, "Yeah, babe, I'm okay. Sure thought we were goners, though…"
"Yeah… yeah, so did I."
Neither of you say anything else. You don't need to. You simply pat his hand, then rest your hand on his shoulder. He leans into the contact slightly, still wearing the soft smile.
The thunder of the pouring rain lulls you and Chet to sleep, leaning on each other… as always.
If I screwed up any science particularly bad, please let me know so I can fix it ASAP, but please keep in mind it was meant to be a bit supernatural.
I always appreciate concrit.