"Copy- the bar is all clear! It's a structural fire-"

His breath panted in the mask, hearing the almost raspy voice of his fellow crew member over the static of his helmet. It was almost like being in a tunnel, the ferocious roar of the flames deafeningly silent as they engulfed the wood around him, the dark grain clearly struggling to hold up the age-old building.

"Do your search and get the hell out! She's bound to give way any minute-!"

Next came the even more decrepit voice of their captain, screaming at them as per usual to get in and get out, and as always,

He didn't listen.

The bulbs along the walls had popped long ago, the glass glistening alongside the other debris and embers scattered across the floor. The only source of light came from the flashlight attached to his shoulder, the brightness penetrating the shrouded atmosphere as billows of smoke waded in and out of the beam's periphery. It served as the only stark contrast against the roaring orange and gold tinged hue of the flames lapping at the grainy walls and beams.

It hissed. It burned. He could almost feel the heat penetrating through his heavy gear, but he knew better. It was a mere trick of the mind, his body no longer reacting to the flickering yellow tails as he walked right by the screaming fire unfazed.

Years of instincts and training guided him, almost having to remind himself he wasn't on a mission. The treacherous environment he faced near-daily was a constant testimony to his skills, forcing him to always be on high alert for the faintest clue of a survivor, the whereabouts of his team- instead of allowing himself to be distracted by the sweltering flames that could choke the life out of him. It made him unnaturally perceptive, always pulling people out, gut feeling giving him the ability to predict down to the very second how much time he had to pull his mates out or worse, a victim before he too would fall to the ferocity of mother nature's scorching heart.

The small beam of light always limited his visibility, but it clearly showed no room for concern to the brawny man. His form merely lumbered through the building, the floorboards groaning under his weight as his built body finally ground to a halt in the center of the room. His heavy boots remained firmly planted on the floor, his chocolate hues almost appearing to glow in the darkness as they peered at the surroundings before him from under his cumbersome helmet.

A hefty ax rested aside his hip, but the glossy red metal appeared practically meek in size when sitting aside the Lieutenant's leg. He stood above all his colleagues, only one debatably even close to his stature, but seeing as all the men knew of his formidable size they had no issues in calling upon him and his abilities when the situation arose for it.

His instincts wrenched at his insides. Tonight would be no exception.

And right on cue, a high-pitched groan surfaced from above along with a sickening crack. He knew it before he even saw it. Despite his muscular stature he nimbly ducked, tucking and rolling to the side expertly as the splintering of wood could be felt crashing into the ground below him, the floor shaking with the force of the impact as the pieces of ceiling embedded themselves into the floorboards.

Completely unfazed, he rested one knee on the ground as the other remained propped up, his form tense as his forearms remained raised in defense. The lieutenant glanced at the charred pile of embers and debris that crumbled and shattered against the forgotten floorboards before him, the odd planks of wood from the ceiling ominously fractured towards him. He stared right back at the rubble, defiantly glaring down his graze with death. He barely acknowledged how milliseconds later came the anxious voice of one of their younger crew members.

"Shit- Connor, you alright-?!"

Clearly the new kid on the block was not aware like his seasoned colleagues, the youngest of them being the only to react to the scene. The lieutenant merely glanced at the sight of his coworker bounding up to him.

"-I am fine, did you spot any other survivors?"

He barely gave his partner a chance to question him before he was back to the matter at hand, his form coming to tower over the blond adolescent when Connor straightened himself back to full height. The piercing blue eyes of the newbie on his crew flickered over him for a moment, stepping back in either admiration or intimidation- nowadays he could never be sure, but in seeing he genuinely was fine and had gotten away from the debris unharmed the younger of the two begrudgingly acknowledged his question.

"No, but the last place is the bathroom. Red said he thought he heard someone on the other side but there's no way to check. The door is blocked from the inside."

The second Chris spoke Connor flickered his gaze across the room, glancing over the large pool table that loomed between him and his coworkers. He could see one man pressing the side of his face near the door, as if trying to listen or scream through it- he couldn't tell, the other glancing around, as if there was any possible weakness in the framework to take advantage of. The lieutenant's brow creased as he made a decision.

"Go- it is not safe to be in here. I must ensure everyone else falls back."

The pale blond instantly opened his mouth to retort, but Connor was practically shoving his form out of the way as he strode past him, his bulky figure paving the way through the flames as the poor kid was left behind. This was not the first instance of his superior wordlessly ordering him to retreat, but it didn't make him resist any less as he was anxious to still soak his feet into the water. Chris was wise though. He remembered the last time he tried to argue the Lieutenant, growling as he obediently followed through to regroup with the captain outside.

It was only the physical sound of his voice that alerted his partners of his presence, his mellow tone perfectly calculating the words over the speaker.

"It is time to go."

Both men knew exactly what that meant, Red especially turning from his left of Connor's impressive stature to face him, the man to his right still lingering with the back of his bare hand on the door, clearly feeling to see if it was hot or not.

"Hell no we ain't done here-"
"There's a survivor-!"

He grit his teeth, body tensing as he was prepared to drag both men out if necessary. One life was not worth the risk of three. However, such a chance never came.

Before he could even move a muscle an eerie, pained- anguished wail came from the other side of the door.

His feet cemented to the ground, his own eyes practically burning deeper holes into the murky green obstruction as the defeated cry penetrated his very being. He wasn't sure why, but the sound of it sparked a fleeting memory in his head, the sound reverberating in his ears.

For a split second, he was slammed back twenty two years ago, surrounded by peeling cream walls devoured by the flames-

The desperate wail repeated itself, dark hues widening as he blinked back into reality, taken aback at how the agonized cry managed to strike straight into the pit of his heart. He had only heard that noise once before. It was the reason he chose to be where he was today. To be standing in the middle of a raging inferno.

The lieutenant's entire form went helplessly rigid as he realized it was not only someone pitifully crying, who had accepted their fate, but that someone was a woman. The coworker to his left, Red- had a solid sheen across his dark skin by now, his russet eyes wild as they glanced between Connor and the door. It was almost like he was on the same wavelength as his higher in command, anxiously watching as Connor's large hand shifted to hover over his axe.

"Is the door hot?"

His question was simple, but the intention was not. Red instantly backed away from the door, knowing what was about to happen. The stout coworker between them however wasted no time to shake his head.

"No, the fire started on our side. The poor bastard is stuck in a hot box."

Such words did nothing but spark their own silent rage in Connor's hard gaze, the intensity of his dark glare nearly flooring his dear friend. Red would have chuckled at Jerry practically shitting bricks for his poor word choice, that is, if it weren't for the still hissing flames closing in on their location second by second. Connor slipped his hand under his coat, clicking off his receiver discreetly as he simultaneously focused his gaze on the door between the two men.

"Good. Then I will meet you both outside. I cannot break down this door without you two getting in the way."

"-Are you fuckin' crazy?!"
"-You're nuts!"

Both men instantly opposed Connor's words, jumping up and turning to him as they didn't hesitate to shout their protests. The Native man merely stood unfazed, if anything his gaze hardening past them as he slid the ax out from his belt, shifting it to have his hands spaced appropriately within the middle of the handle.

"Do not make me repeat myself! The burst of air on the other side can potentially send this place to the ground and I will not be able to save you both!"

His voice now rose to that of his lieutenant status, commanding respect as his chestnut hues darkened. He tuned out whatever retorts the men tried to spew at him, stepping forward to shove past the crew members. It only took a moment, his amber hues spotting the weak point in the door as his grip tightened.

"-But Lieutenant that's suicide!"

"I said go!"

Connor practically snarled the words as he wouldn't be challenged, thrusting his arm towards the other side of the burning down bar as he pointed for the men to get out. Knowing how feral their lieutenant could get, the more rotund older man stood for a moment in shock at the way his superior raised his voice, before begrudgingly turning as directed. Red however couldn't help how he lingered. He almost had to tug himself back as he reluctantly glanced between Connor and the entrance to the building, finally forcing a step back. No matter how much the Native was a force to be reckoned with, even he had his doubts of the lieutenant's decision. But he was in no place to try and wrestle him out, the man the most stubborn bull he had ever met. When Connor made a decision, he made a decision.

Ultimately, the lieutenant spied how Red finally caved, fully turning and falling back as Connor's stance shifted, sliding his right foot back. There was no way to tell if windows were open on the other side, how large the room was- anything, really, the explosion he was about to cause forcing him to brace himself for the worst. It was why he originally felt saving one life was not worth risking three, but nobody deserved to die in the slow and agonizing way of being, well, cooked to death. Even if it cost him his life- he would rather it be his own versus his team. It would not be the first time he's put himself on the line, and chances are it wouldn't be his last.

This was retribution anyway.

With an almost rage fueled cry the ax was swooped in an arc from in front of his feet to swing back and over his shoulder, slamming with a sickening crack into the flimsy wooden door. With a grunt Connor wrenched the sharp metal from the door, deftly hearing another cry from the other side which only seemed to propel him further as with another roll of his shoulders the dense metal ax struck the center of the grain- and this time his aim was spot on, a gaping hole nearly causing him to lose his grip on the weapon as it barreled through the opening he created. Unfortunately he only had milliseconds to react, his body pivoting to the right sharply as he swiveled, planting himself in a crouch against the wall as he ducked his head behind his braced arm.

The fire didn't disappoint. The air practically felt like it was being sucked out of his lungs as he felt the roar of the flames tenfold as the sheer force reverberated around him. The heat threatened to scorch through his hefty jacket, the wall shuddering against his shoulder. But as quick as it came the small explosion dispersed behind his back, Connor suddenly hyper-aware of the way his chest heaved, practically fogging up his mask with each hasty breath that parted from his lips.

Heart slamming against his ribs, he forced himself to his feet, rather frantically flickering his gaze to the doorway beside him. The explosion had the desired effect as the door was long gone, barely hanging off the hinges, a grand hole gaping in its center and allowing him more than enough room to peer in and see what barricaded the door. Oddly enough, a bathroom stall door leaned perfectly against the wall. It remained stuck vertically in front of the entrance due to the heavy beam propped up on top of it, also leaning against the same wall. The scene beyond it though was what made his heart skip a beat, his pupils sharpening with desperation.

All the way across the bathroom, opposite the entrance sat a row of small square windows near the top of the ceiling, offering the smallest semblance of light to peak through the churning dark smoke to cascade down upon the debris below. There was no hesitation as he spotted a dark mass of curls strewn across the floor under the pile of debris. A brunette at best, but with the low light he couldn't tell for sure.

The ceiling had obviously caved in first in this particular area, instantly causing the muscles in his jaw to flex, teeth grinding together. The fire certainly didn't start on his side. In fact, it may have been due to more than just a mere electrical spark with how demolished the ceiling looked. But that was something to focus on after he was outside of the burning building; right now he just had to survive.

Channeling his brute strength, with a fierce cry he slapped his hands against the thin slab of the laminate stall door, shoving it forward so far that with one great heave it slid out from under the beam, collapsing to the ground with a clatter.

With the resonating sound of it also came the meek cry of another voice, his ears perking as he ducked under the beam. Thankfully he didn't have to worry about it caving in with how wedged the splintered wood was against the cement brick wall. At this point though all he could focus on was the other soft voice, it clearly now more of a moan and pained whine. Within milliseconds the trained firefighter zoned in on the body trapped under debris in the corner of the room, thankfully still shifting around, albeit weakly.

She was pinned, her lower half hidden under one of the heavy stall doors as it thankfully snapped in half upon its descent. Her legs remained uncomfortably nestled- perhaps crushed under the first half of the dusty broken door, her body nearly crumpled in the corner where the walls met. She was littered with debris. It was hard to tell if she was shoved back in the corner or if she fell there, as the bathroom was a small room to begin with. It only harbored three stalls, but whatever force managed to propel from behind them caused it all to blast forward, the mirrors on the man's right all shattered from whatever explosion he was certain had occurred. As he strode towards the woman though it was obvious her luck was unparalleled, for despite her being pinned under the heavy stall door it was also what protected her from any debris simultaneously splintering towards her.

"Do not be afraid! I'm here to help!"

Despite the roar of the flames, Connor hoped the woman could understand him as he shouted down to her, not skipping a beat to quickly take up the broken pieces of door and throw them off her. She gulped, throat hoarse, at this point unable to focus on anything but the looming mass of black and neon shifting above her. His face was hidden behind the clear mask protecting his features, the voice she heard almost muffled through the respirator covering the lower half of his face. Still, the sound of it was so powerful and strong that it resonated a wave of hope within her being.

The stripes on the fireman's gear glistened ominously as it made her more aware of the searing flames silently closing in on them both. If it weren't for the way she became distracted with how easily he discarded the laminate stall door off her and chucked it behind him, she would have certainly began choking at the prospect of still being burned alive. Was she really that weak to not remove it or was he that strong? She honestly couldn't tell, as she had no idea how long she was even lying there in the first place. All she could do was allow her mind to be distracted by the sudden appearance of him, not bothered in the slightest by the sight of the faceless stranger seeing as it was too dark to try and make out anything.

The adrenaline was the sole force keeping her disoriented mind still conscious. Really, all she cared about at this point was that her cries of distress were actually heard. This was not it. Not yet. Right when she had believed this to be the end there he was, literally bursting through like they did in the movies, how iconic-

Her amber hues latched on to his every movement, almost in a trance, the only thing she could distinguish being his tan skin. None of it really registered though as her brain could only acknowledge the prospect that help was here, that she had a chance to survive, she could live. Almost to show him such thoughts she couldn't help the desperate, yet defiant whimper she gave as her legs were finally freed, her body unconsciously shifting at the pain that came with the sudden range of movement being restored.

There was no way to tell in the dim light what the extent of her injuries were, especially considering the black pants she wore. They hugged the curve of her hips, hiding the true source of any stains he could find, a fifty-fifty chance on whether or not it was dirt or blood. He could only make out the trails of crimson that splattered under the few rips and tatters to the lower calves of the thin material that clung to her legs. Her hands were also saturated in blood, but he was quick to note the red stains on the underside of the door he pulled off her a moment ago, realizing it was most likely from her own futile attempts to free herself.

A thin sheen of golden sweat seemed to glisten off her olive skin, patches of grime and ash smearing along her exposed neck and discoloring the once white plaid top that at least seemed to protect along the lengths of her slender arms. Only a pool of blood staining across her left shoulder and collar caught his attention, deducing it to come from the dark trail that led to the cut along her left temple. None of it appeared life threatening though, the only thing causing his ribs to constrict in concern being the ragged way the woman struggled to breath. Respiratory distress was evident from how long she was forced to sit there, finally suffering from all the smoke inhalation.

"Hold on to me, I'm getting you out of here."

He then forced the brunette to stir with the way he slid his hand under her back, his other arm securely wrapping under her legs. Whether it was due to the sound of his voice or finally picking her up he couldn't be sure, but it seemed to be the first time she genuinely acknowledged him, locking eyes with him. Her warm cinnamon freckled hues were drowning in fear, pupils dilated as her hands almost instinctively obliged with the way they scrambled to wrap around his neck.

" Please- "

Whatever the woman tried to choke out would forever remain a mystery as a fit of coughing cut her off, Connor taking the moment to shift her small body in his arms. Her form fit snugly against him, too easy almost as the span between her bent knees and shoulder resting against him barely crossed the span of his barrel of a chest. With how easily he cradled her petite body against him it briefly crossed his mind if she was much younger despite the fire being at a local pub.

The familiar pang of fear impaled his heart. Each heartbeat only served to wedge the blade in deeper and deeper. With new resolve he stood, swiftly turning to the door as all he had to do was get out. He could already hear the voice of his captain screaming at him, no doubt the old man trying to get a hold of him now but Connor had shut off his receiver long ago. He didn't need the distraction.

He would not let this woman die. Not today. Not in his arms.

Unfortunately it appeared fate did not share the same sentiment.

The second he swiveled and stepped towards the beam still obstructing the entrance, yet another shrill screech from above instinctively made him glance up, almost believing to hear a high-pitched scream- if it weren't for the charred wood that warped and snarled, penetrating his gaze. He watched almost in slow motion as his eyes widened, the roof finally releasing its agony and groaning with the weight of the mass of embers and hissing chunks breaking way.

Pandemonium permeated all his senses as every muscle in his body went rigid. His sight almost went black as primal instinct kicked in, glancing back in front of him as his colossal form mesmerizingly leapt in a staggeringly hasty manner, ducking under the beam now engulfed in flames. The scorching heat barely grazed his backside as the deafening crumble of debris shook the ground under his boots and made the floorboards vibrate, the violent force propelling his body forward as the woman gave a choked cry in his arms. A shout of his own shockingly jutted past his lips as he was forced to stumble and pitch forward, his fall only broken by the hard skid to his knees and elbows- but even then his actions were innate, almost desperately shoving his hand under the woman's head as he felt it take most of the blow the back of her skull would have taken against the floor.

He could only hope he hadn't accidentally crushed her, no time to really asses and only assume he had successfully kept most of his weight off her petite form considering he was still crouched above her. He only had time to note how he absolutely dwarfed her, his body completely enshrouding her from the elements as she remained lying beneath him. His harsh breath rang in his ears, distracting him for a moment from the woman inches away from his own face. Thankfully he was no stranger to such situations, his senses roaring back as he blinked his vision into focus.

His breath all but left him as he finally had the chance to check on the woman below him, realizing she was under much more distress now, possibly outright choking as she gasped for air. It then clicked in his mind the bathroom was cooler. That was not where the fire originated. By now the air in here was so hot there was no way she could handle it with the damage already done to her lungs.

With his hand still cradling the back of her head, he gingerly slid his palm out from under her tendrils of dark waves. Connor shifted his weight as he sat himself up then, ripping his helmet off. He didn't even hesitate as he grabbed his mask, preparing himself as he tugged it off his head with a grunt.

Like a slap to the face the air almost singed his cheeks, the lieutenant not skipping a beat as he placed the overly large mask on the woman's face. The sweat along his brow felt oddly cool as his skin prickled at the unwelcome change in temperature.

"Breath."

He saw her chest rise suddenly with a gasp, and despite the roar of the screaming flames the second he blurted out the command it was obvious she heard him loud and clear with how she suddenly locked eyes with him, her chest rising. If it weren't for the circumstances, he could have sworn for a split second he saw some defiance in her eyes, as if she didn't entirely agree with his action of giving up his own cold oxygen, but with the seconds ticking by he didn't have time to ponder it. He glanced up, his dark hues yet again seeming to obtain a golden iris for a moment as they flickered around, before they blinked back to the velvety chocolate as he swiftly stood from the woman.

Seeing as she was using his mask not a moment was spared when he decidedly slipped off the hefty tanks from his burly shoulders. The metal clanged against the ground, muffling the meek whimper of pain being herd below him. He stepped to the side, barely sparing a second to grab his helmet and plop it back on his head before he was ripping something off the floor. Before the woman could properly acknowledge he had even left her his towering figure was looming right back over her again.

In his hands was some large piece of cloth, a blanket maybe, he had no idea, wrapping it snugly against her petite form. The dusty material was securely nudged against her skin, the brunette releasing a muffled whine of confusion as he worked, unable to grasp the concept of what the firefighter was doing.

Unfortunately said confusion would remain unanswered as the structure creaked and moaned, as if warning the last two patrons that there was no time left to squander.

Connor was forced to hold his breath. Whenever he needed to inhale he had no choice but to cover his mouth with his gloved hand before he did so. The hot air practically singed his cheeks as the heat threatened to burn his throat whenever he chose to gasp in desperately, yet it did nothing but serve to remind him to swiftly glance over his shoulder, spotting the entrance. He could make it- but it was engulfed in flames, the fire hissing as it devoured and enveloped his one chance of escape. There was no way around it. He would have to jump through, which normally would not be a problem, (seeing as he had done it more than once) but now he carried another life in his hands.

He glanced down. There was no other way out.

The bulky tanks were slipped expertly onto his back again, the weight of the oxygen not acknowledged across his shoulders. His arms hastily shoved themselves under the woman's form.

The sudden force of Connor frantically tugging the brunette back into his arms caused the woman's hand clinging to his mask to smear the clear pane with blood, her wet fingers slipping. He didn't have time to worry about it. He was only aware that his window of escape was closing. He could feel the familiar burn begin to etch its way into his lungs. The need for oxygen began to overwhelm his senses, but luckily these predicaments were more so a test to his true skills.

"Cover your head and hold on to me!"

There was no room for argument, sweat pouring down Connor's cheeks with the exposure to the blistering heat as he trudged towards his only exit. The woman didn't seem to bother going against him either, his voice oddly present as it rang in her ears. One would think there was no way to hear anything, and yet his desperate, demanding voice broke through to her crystal clear. She almost seemed to curl into him at that point, knowing what lied ahead as she tried with all her might to shield herself against the coat of his jacket.

This was it. Now or never.

The flames lapped at the walls, and with his grip digging into the durable cloth that enshrouded the woman he broke into a run. He pulled her up closer to his chest, as if it would shield her more as he ran with his head down straight into the flames that hungrily devoured the entrance and blocked anyone else from entry.

The heat nearly felt like it seared off his skin, teeth bared and lids forced closed in a grimace as he broke through the tumultuous flames that screamed and hissed around him. He could only hope his grip was not bruising the poor woman in his arms.

With a gasp his lead feet seemed to finally push himself through, the brisk night slapping him in the face as the sickening cracking and snapping suddenly broke through the cool air. He kept going, knowing better as not only the ground, but the air around him practically shook and trembled under each desperate step. The roar of the flames and crackling and screeching of the structure being torn and burned to the ground behind him made his ears ring to the deafening silence of the sights and sounds of the sirens and emergency personnel spontaneously bursting into view. The ferocity the collapsing building conveyed could be felt with the way the heat lapped at his boots, threatening to chase after him and suck him back into the flames with the wave of heat that slammed into his back, scorching along his exposed skin.

Finally he coughed. He inhaled deeply. It was akin to being doused in cold water, his burly chest heaving as he practically sucked in the cool air as he finally dared to glance behind him, still backing away as he subconsciously held the woman protectively against his chest, the demolished structure still spurting out embers and debris as it crumpled to the ground with a strangled cry.

"You mad bastard!"

Chest heaving, ears ringing, he could still make out the stomping footsteps of his captain as he barged his way over. Connor of course simply ignored him as he finally turned away, merely glancing at the silvery haired older man with lines of anxiety etching into his face that instantly simmered the irate expression of his superior. Walking by him, the body still nestled in his arms didn't go unnoticed, the robust man spluttering for a moment as his gaze zoned in on it. In the artificial light of the emergency vehicles the outline of a small figure wrapped in a rug became apparent in Connor's arms, the captain not hesitating to trail after his lieutenant as he reeled back from the shock of seeing his subordinate cradling such a sight.

"What in God's name- is that a child?!"

Said bundle in his arms remained oddly silent, and with his senses roaring back to him it caused his chocolate hues to glance down, softened with true concern.

Her form was slack. Lids closed. Unconscious.

Connor made a beeline towards the paramedics by now, spotting one standing nearby an ambulance, footsteps hurried as they pounded against the ground.

Thankfully there was a free gurney situated just behind the profile of the medical professional, Connor maneuvering around him as the man took one glance at what he carried before calling out to his partner. Only when he tenderly placed the woman upon the clean white sheets did Connor take the time to respond to his captain straggling behind him.

"-No. It's a woman. "

His voice was gravelly and rough, indicating he perhaps hadn't gotten through the fire without his own bout with the flames. Upon releasing the stranger though Connor didn't hesitate to rip off his helmet, almost feeling like he was suffocating as he simultaneously pulled down the body suit covering his head, fully exposing his face and sleek black hair. His breath came out in puffs, and it was then he carefully decided to retrieve his mask as he peeled it off the woman's small face.

Barely, just a smidge, he paused as he watched her lids flutter. She was struggling, trying so hard to remain conscious, to... look up at him?

Seeing the poor woman on the precipice of becoming a critical patient only served to crease the lines further between Connor's brow, his knuckles gone white as his hand gripped the handle of the gurney so tightly it might have snapped if it weren't for it being made out of metal.

"You are going to be alright."

And he meant it. He hadn't just torn through a burning building for her to give up now, and she was going to know it. She would not give in, he wouldn't let her, he would keep her awake. His captain be damned, he would see to it that saving her would not be in vain. He deftly noticed how she at the very least perked up at his words, her doe-eyed hazy hues forcing themselves to remain cracked open, trailing up to meet his gaze.

Perhaps it was the cold air brushing across her features, or finally having her senses return after they were all tuned out due to being trapped in the flames- but his face completely drowned her line of sight, her amber hues only finding his face to focus on. She was right. His complexion was noticeably tan, perhaps emphasized more so with his reddened cheeks, his full lips parted as his high cheekbones accented his strong square jaw nicely. They were features definitely worth taking a second glance at, striking, as they seem to quietly capture her attention as she barely acknowledged how she was staring. Instead she finally settled her gaze on his almond-shaped eyes, filled with soft and warm milk chocolate irises. The warmth resonating from them was shadowed by the creased lines she spotted across his forehead, caused by what she couldn't decipher as either focus, frustration, or downright concern. In normal circumstances she would have said something, anything, but her throat burned in agony, barely wanting to even take the risk to speak at the pain it may cause as she still audibly gasped for air.

Her lips parted, an attempt at the very least at the tip of her tongue, but by then the captain had finally caught up to them, not hesitating to shove his head around Connor to also glance down at the female lying on the gurney. The stark white light pouring out of the back of the ambulance allowed both the lieutenant and captain to finally see who he had saved- and it most certainly was not a child. Connor hadn't been wrong. She was a brunette, her hair unique in that he could have sworn certain strands shimmered like gold when caught in the right light, her soft brown hair pooling around her shoulders and reminding him of the bark of towering oak trees in the forest he would spend hours climbing through.

Finally satisfying his own curiosity, the captain immediately turned his attention between the two paramedics and the lieutenant.

"One of these days I'm going to be the one lying in a damned gurney from all the bloody heart attacks you give me! Load her up- however, you are getting a thorough examination. That is an order."

Despite ripening in age, the booming voice of the captain projected straight through Connor's colossal form, especially with the warning he left him. It was barely rooted in concern. It was a red flag that bode nothing more than a rage fueled discussion later on his behalf. All he could do was helplessly watch for a moment as his captain briskly walked away, still seething. The Native only remained rigid, more so unfazed as he was used to the behavior of his superior. On the other hand, the two poor paramedics remained momentarily frozen at the booming voice before snapping back to work.

Connor merely sighed as he ripped off his gloves, honestly wanting to rip off everything at this point with how he felt like an oven. He was not looking forward to being chewed out later either but at least he was glad his captain understood right now was not the time. They had a patient that was borderline critical condition, and it was clear he was not prepared for Connor to pull out a victim- at least not one alive, or conscious for that matter. Albeit barely.

He understood his decisions were reckless, but at the same time if he hadn't made them how many lives would it have cost?

He was reminded of one such life at the weak cough that permeated the air, faintly rising from below him and instantly causing him to have his gaze flicker back down to the woman in distress. Her brow creased in agony, form writhing now as her lids remained painfully shut. Without an ounce of hesitation, his gaze intensified tenfold as his hues darkened, not taking a chance as he locked on to the paramedic that finally jumped down from the metal steps leading down to the asphalt.

"Get going with her. Ignore my captain."

The paramedic almost gave an exasperated breath before he shook his head, rounding to the front of the gurney as he gripped the handlebars, giving Connor a glance.

"Man, I don't need Faulkner up my ass. There's another ambulance across the way, get checked out over there. You're right in saying we gotta get going with your friend here-"

Not giving much room for rebuttal, the paramedic then clicked the button to raise the legs of the bed, the mechanism whirring. The firefighter was glad to see he wouldn't have to fight the paramedics on trying to treat him, as if he would let them touch him first anyway- but before he could even walk away to the other ambulance the feel of a weak grip almost desperately grasping for his wrist planted his feet firmly to the ground as his body went rigid.

In a split second his face swiveled, flickering down to see the bloodied hand of the woman poorly trying to cover his own. Even the paramedic suddenly froze as he watched the woman shift her head to face Connor.

"… Thank you."

The words were so pained, raspy and clearly forced out, but nonetheless still bursting with genuine gratitude that it nearly made Connor stumble back. It was clear she was adamant to blurt them past her lips, her eyes fierce with determination as she adamantly stared up at the man who saved her. Oddly, seeing such an amount of conviction within her, realizing that was what she even trying to say earlier, it caused an odd feeling to prickle at his chest.

The lieutenant honestly had no idea how to react, this honestly being one of the few- if not the first times where one of his victims adamantly struggled to show some form of gratitude towards him before being shipped off to the hospital. It only caused him to blink down at her in shock, not really knowing how else to react other than to raise his other hand and comfortingly, gingerly resting it atop her own. He then gave a nod, silently accepting her gratefulness as his own sincerity burned with sympathy in his milk chocolate hues. He didn't even bother to acknowledge the moist crimson that imprinted his skin when he was forced to pull away, stepping back as the paramedic nudged the moment to a close with finishing in loading up the woman in the back of the ambulance.

Whatever strength she seemed to possess was clearly spent in that moment, her resolve waning as she turned her head back to face the ceiling. It forced Connor to break eye contact with her, instead only allowed to gaze upon the smooth nape of her neck as she was jostled a bit, her body practically a rag doll now under the rug he realized he had wrapped her in. His lips folded into a thin line. He honestly wondered how hard she had to push herself not to just lie back to the blissful darkness the moment he placed her on the bed, especially given how she was barely conscious to begin with. Had she purposely pushed herself to stay awake, all so she could choke out a thank you?

The paramedic gave him one last glance before he swung one of the doors shut, leaning over and finally, permanently blocking Connor's view of the brunette as the other slammed shut, clicking into place.

His fingers curled into his palms, knuckles going white. He swallowed thickly before finally tearing himself away, his boots heavy as they hit the ground. The searing burn to his cheeks was not enough to distract from the thoughts that plagued his mind.

A week. A week of nothing. Nothing but the crinkle of the page as it turned, breaking the deafening silence.

The lieutenant sat at the front desk. His cheek rested idly in the palm of his hand, propped up by his elbow on the wooden desktop as he skimmed the text before him.

In normal circumstances the burly man would be thoroughly enjoying the chance to sit down and have a good read, but considering he could be currently out on the rig or at least in the ambulance saving lives it was safe to say sitting in a chair, twiddling his thumbs, was the cruelest form of punishment his captain could offer. Which is exactly why he chose it. With how long the lieutenant worked beside the man, Connor was not surprised.

Only a few of his colleagues were still lingering around the firehouse. The rest had gone on a call some time ago, yet again leaving Connor behind, as they would be doing so for the next few days. The thought alone nearly made the man break the pencil in half he had been mindlessly twirling between his deft fingers. However he knew he had to pay the price for his actions, just as anyone else, which is why he silently accepted his punishment. Being a lieutenant didn't offer him any special privileges, and he needed his team to know that. Risky behavior doesn't always go without consequence… a lesson his captain firmly tried to drill into him from day one, but clearly Faulkner had met his match.

The hard steps against the linoleum caught Connor's attention, briefly raising his gaze from his book. He instantly detected it was his captain and allowed his form to relax slightly, able to distinguish most people from their footsteps in the firehouse by now.

"Connor."

The Native finally sat back, bookmarking his page before turning around to respectfully face his captain. Faulkner stood with both hands on his hips, his features softer than usual as he patiently waited for his lieutenant to address him.

"Yes captain?"

"Enough of that. You know I'm not pissed at you anymore, it's Faulkner."

The sour look along his captain's face finally broke as he took a step forward, an air of hesitancy about him. His gaze shifted towards his feet before finally matching that of his subordinate, resolution at the very least unwavering as they met eye to eye.

"… I know you must be going mad sitting up here, but with you being lieutenant you also set the example for the rest of your team. Don't think I underestimate your capabilities, Connor. However, I just don't need some imbecile believing they have those same capabilities as well.

Knowing such a conversation was coming, Connor was completely content to sit and listen, patiently allowing his captain to indulge himself as he even set the pencil down at his desk that still unconsciously lied forgotten between his fingers.

"You're certainly the best firefighter I've had the pleasure of working with, both in skill and strength, but at times I still need to remind you to try and reign in those little stunts of yours-"

"I understand, Faulkner. You should feel no guilt in placing me here, I must endure the consequences just as anyone else."

There was no use in watching Faulkner carry on in trying to excuse his harshness. As much as it may seem cruel to anyone else, Connor was almost thankful for the more strict methods his higher up employed. It set standards. It kept things professional and orderly. As much as the Native advocated for being a free spirit, at a job such as this there was no room for misconduct. That said, Faulkner still didn't hesitate to give Connor a look that certainly didn't share the same sentiment. Hands still on his hips, a rather exasperated sigh was squeezed out of him.

"My point, boy, is that it shouldn't be me, I should not be the one reminding you of such things."

Now that was certainly not a response Connor expected. Instantaneously his brow furrowed, blinking as he tried to work around the words of his commanding officer.

"… I don't think I understand?"

"You invest a lot of your time into this godforsaken job, as to why I don't have the faintest clue- but perhaps its time you branched out."

A pause. Silence. His captain carried on staring at him as the words obviously began to sink in. Was this some form of a joke?

"… Are you, telling me, to work less?"

In a moment's breath Faulkner reacted, a chuckle nearly falling past dry lips as he was quick to raise his hands in defense, desperate to explain further.

"Yes! Well- no, but yes, just- damn it all, live a little! Don't you got a girl, friends, anything-?"

Connor's gaze became hard then. Not amused in the slightest as his lips went into a thin line, form stilled in his chair.

"Faulkner, I am just fine. And that includes my personal life."

Now was when his commanding officer offered a genuine chuckle. But with it came an air of melancholy, a hand coming up to smooth down the whiskers along the sides of Faulkner's cheeks.

"Ah, still as stubborn as the first day I've met you. Alright. I hate to say this, but the next time you pull a stunt like that, you're fired."

"-What?"

Connor sat upright in his chair. Amusement all but left his captain's face. An air of resignation almost seemed to hover about, gaze steeled as the older man stood his ground.

"I'm sorry, Connor, but I can't keep having you risk your life like this. You're a liability whether you realize it or not. And I can't have you planting heroic ideas in anyone else's head."

Realizing this was not an argument Connor was even in the position to begin debating, he had no choice but to painfully swallow his captain's words. Yes, he may be putting himself at risk, but had it really been this much? Was it enough to finally put his job on the line? It was about time these questions finally began to plague his mind. Given the nature of his true work, the risks of his day job seemed paltry, but clearly, he may have to start affording a bit more consideration than he originally intended.

"Stop putting this job before your own life. Now here's the key to the aid car."

There was a solid breath of silence, of nothing, before Connor could even find his voice. The weight of such words fell on him so suddenly he truly felt the air become squeezed out of his lungs, forcing the next syllables of a baseline response between his lips as he had to blink back the confusion suddenly clouding his gaze.

"But I'm on desk duty for the next three days-"

"Well clearly you're not. Now go find Red. You're on call with him for the rest of the shift."

And just like that, Connor watched silently as Faulkner deposited the keys on his desk before turning to walk away. The whirlwind of emotions that threatened to swallow him whole almost seemed to trap Connor in a submissive mode of silence, still trying to soak in the revelation slapped down upon him.

… Stop putting this job before your own life….

This job was his life. It was the one thing he was at least sure of. But now… apparently, it wasn't good enough. More troubled than he cared to admit, he shoved the chair back as he gruffly rounded the desk, off to go find his coworker.