Author's note: Hello everyone. Just a quick note to introduce myself into the world of fanfiction. I've been reading for a long time but have never actually published anything until now. It may seem odd, but there we go.
This story may seem like an odd one to start off with, it isn't exactly happy. I love BURZEK as a pairing, I love Burgess' sensitivity and Rusek's caring and humour, and this is a story that is quite close to me. I have rated this "T" based on the fact that I'm aware this emotive topic (not matter how ill written) could be quite upsetting to a lot of people, and I do not mean any disrespect towards anyone whose families have gone through this type of pain in their lifetime (I hope you never do). This is an incident a lot of emergency service workers will deal with day in and day out, and when they go home to their own families or friends afterwards, they often have to pretend they haven't just spent a whole shift dealing with this type of job. Talking about it helps, over time. In regards to this topic, I'm aware police attend these incidents, as stated during the story, but I don't know if American police do the same. I'd expect they do, but just a disclaimer I'm not too sure, since I'm not American.
Trigger Warning: death.
Feel
Kim Burgess knew that her job was unpredictable, and mostly, she loved that. She loved the adrenaline of a foot chase through the city streets which she knew like the back of her hand, and the feeling of success on detaining the person, the person who more often than not had been subjecting another innocent victim to harm through a crime. Catching them meant that the offender could no longer subject a person to harm, at least temporarily. And a chance of justice.
But there were some calls where you could not catch the criminals, and some calls where there would never be any justice. No matter how many arrests she made, how many interviews she conducted and how many charges she brought against offenders, she would never be able to catch Death. Death was the worst criminal of all. There was no logic, no reasoning behind any pain or suffering. Death is impartial to its victims. It takes and it never gives.
Kim hung her radio up in the terminal, and walked into the locker room. There was nobody else in there. It was safe, and quiet. She needed quiet. Relieved and exhausted. Days like this were what made the job draining. Not physically, but mentally. She had spent the last five hours standing guard in the hospital A & E, department watching the doctors try to continue the fight against Death's cold grasp, which had taken hold of a 6 month old baby.
She remembered being given the job by dispatch over the air.
"Can you attend this address- ambulance are already at scene. Baby in cardiac arrest".
Police were called routinely to these incidents because everyone had to be sure that there was nothing suspicious involved in the incident. These incidents happened far too frequently. Nobody likes going to these types of jobs, because it never tends to end well, for anyone. But someone has to go. Someone has to go and stand in the uniform and try to make sense of the chaos. To provide reassurance to the family when their world is falling apart. To provide protection when the wolves seem like they are at the door. She drove to the address and was immediately packed into the ambulance as the team worked on him- he was a "he", not an "it". A lot of officers say that to deal with these incidents you must not get attached, otherwise it will tear you apart. Yeah, right.
Sighing heavily, and closing her eyes in what felt like the first time in hours, she sat down on the sturdy wooden bench by her locker. And she put her head into her shaking hands. She had managed to keep it together during the ambulance ride to the hospital. She had kept it together while the family sobbed outside of the room while the staff tried to save their baby, while she watched them work on him for three hours. She had even managed to keep it together while she watched the nurse wrap the baby in a knitted blue blanket and take the tiny baby, who looked as if she was sleeping, back to her grieving parents, whose world had just been shattered. She followed every procedure and protocol which comes with these incidents, as the text books and sergeants dictate she should. She ticked every box, methodically, and she had concentrated. Mainly because it allows her to not think about the baby. Not yet. She couldn't think about him yet. She had to keep it together. The emergency services aren't allowed to be upset by the things they see and do, not in public at least. It wouldn't do to cause upset. How dare she be upset...and yet, the minute she sat down in that locker room, a sob welled up in her throat.
Five hours long hours of pretending she was not affected, of being professional, holding back her tears and turning away from the parents under the pretense of focusing on paperwork. Five hours of pretending that there was a chance the baby would survive, when everyone knew from the second the ambulance arrived that he was gone- but they had to be seen to be trying to save him. There was nothing suspicious, it was just cruel. A cruel and unfortunate choice made by death.
The criminal which would always evade capture.
The tears wouldn't stop coming. As soon as the first one escaped her, it was as if the flood gates had opened. Kim sat up at the end of the bench, placing her feet in front of her and curling into a ball against the wall, she let herself indulge in the raw emotion of the day, in the pain and the sacrifice and the sadness, and she let herself feel for the first time in five, long, long hours.
She didn't try to hide her cries. She had already done that too much today. Right now, she needed to cry to her heart's content if only to reassure herself that she felt the loss. Because when she didn't react this way, and didn't cry, or get upset- that would be the day when she became worried about herself and her own humanity. Right now, she needed to cry. So she did.
Kim didn't hear the footsteps next to her. She didn't hear the calm, warm voice, speaking softly to her, calling her name. But she did feel the strong and steady arms wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her towards his chestt.
"Hey, Darlin', heard you had a rough day" the voice said quietly, before kissing the top of her head and rubbing his hand comfortingly against her arm, as if warming her from a chill in the air. Kim's hand found a fistful of his shirt.
"I couldn't do anything" she whispered, "I couldn't do anything but stand there, and watch."
He knew. Of course he knew. He was in the job after all. He would have been to his own.. So he sat there with her quietly, in the locket room, and let her feel.