A/N: This story is being published as a stand-alone piece but will be more enjoyable to the reader if the first story in this series (A House Divided – Chet's Cataclysm) is read first.

A House Divided – Hank's Haunting

Chapter 1

Rebecca Stanley lay curled up on the sofa, soft feminine snores escaping from her barely parted lips. The sensation of something crawling along the tender flesh at the corner of her mouth aroused her from her slumber. She swiped at the nuisance and grimaced at the stinging sensation the action caused her. Peeling open her sticky eyelids, she glanced around at the empty living room while she used her finger tips to swipe the drops of saliva that had spilled beyond her lips during her nap.

"Mmmgh," she groaned into the stillness as she pushed herself up from the striped olive green and gold sofa, sitting up for a moment while her brain kicked into gear. Her mussed up shoulder length chestnut hair lay disheveled around her shoulders; the large combs holding it back away from her face were askew. She looked at the clock and saw that it was 3:25 pm. He was at the birthday party for the little girl Chet had resuscitated last year on that horrible foggy morning. Hank had invited her to join him after the little girl's mother had left the invitation at the station a couple of weeks ago. But one look at herself in the mirror this morning and she knew she needed to stay home.

She and Hank had been sleeping in separate bedrooms for several days now. No longer was she able to tolerate his worsening behavior. She recalled leaving their bedroom in the wee hours of the morning on many occasions over the last few weeks but the last few nights, she had simply gone to bed in the guest room and left him alone. Their daughters were teenagers now and caught up in their own routines. She figured they must suspect something but neither of them asked and so she never volunteered any information, nothing other than the little white lies she had been telling recently as a preemptive strike against the questions that were sure to come from those who knew her best. How could she tell them the truth when she didn't know what the truth was anymore?

Tonight was the night she was going to ask him. She could no longer live like this; their daughters couldn't live in a house like this one had become. And even though he wouldn't admit it, Hank Stanley couldn't continue living like this much longer either.

E!

Chet Kelly spent extra time in his small bathroom grooming his hair and mustache. He wanted everything to be perfect for the party. He had only spoken to Caroline Marks a few times since she had suddenly shown up at the station two weeks ago and invited all of Station 51's A-shift to her daughter, Corrie's, third birthday party.

Chet stared into the mirror once again but his mind was reeling back in time to a foggy morning and a massive pile-up on the 405. He remembered the sounds of the young mother crying that her daughter wasn't moving beneath her. He could still feel the crunching of the broken glass and twisted metal beneath him as he crawled inside the cramped space of the brown car flipped onto its side as Roy carefully lifted up the crying woman allowing Chet to extricate her lifeless toddler trapped beneath her. He remembered lying the tiny limp form down on the asphalt looking as if she were nothing more than a life-sized doll, the shouts and cries mingling in his mind with the pale face of the tiny girl. All the while, the smell of gasoline vapors and the screeching sound of metal being sheared apart assaulted his senses. But Chet only had one goal in mind on that fateful morning; he had to perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation on the smallest victim he'd ever had to attempt to resuscitate…and he had to do it by himself. All the other men from multiple stations were busy performing their own rescues leaving him with the harrowing job of child CPR. He recalled counting his chest compressions then using his own lungs to breathe life back into the tiny child. His determination kept him going for an unknown amount of time until the prettiest little dark eyes he'd ever seen fluttered back to life. He felt her faint pulse and shallow breathing while her mother's woeful cries of joy spoke for them both. She's alive! She's alive! He allowed the echoes to fade back into a memory he would cherish forever as the present day nudged its way back into his realty.

The memory was one of the moments that would always define Chet's career as a firefighter. But today was a day to celebrate Corrie Marks' future. She was turning three years old and according to her mother, Chet was the reason she was alive. He still found it difficult to take credit for saving the child's life and instead, always reaffirmed to Caroline that it was a joint effort from the entire station. She usually acknowledged her agreement but he could tell that she was still grateful for what he'd done for them that day. One day, he hoped he might be able to share with her what that rescue had done for him but today was all about Corrie.

Chet flipped off the light switch and reached for the lavender box with the deep purple ribbon attached. He hoped he'd chosen a good gift for Corrie. He had no experience in selecting toys for little girls and this was one very special little girl. He picked up the box and walked out the door headed across the sidewalk to the second apartment on the bottom floor. This was going to be the first time he had been inside Caroline's apartment even though they had chatted a few times by phone. It was during those night time talks that he'd learned so much about Caroline Marks and so far, he really liked what he knew.

Caroline Marks had been in the early stages of her pregnancy with her first child when her husband, Corey Marks, had been killed in Vietnam. She'd suffered through the remainder of her pregnancy without the man she loved and six months later she'd given birth to a healthy baby girl. The golden haired child looked a lot like her mother but she had her father's dark eyes, or so Caroline had confided to Chet during one of their talks. She had named her daughter Corrine but chose to call her Corrie in honor of the father she never met. She had warned Chet and the rest of the men from 51's that Corrie was a bit shy around men being reared without a male presence in her home but for whatever reason, the precocious toddler had taken to Chet immediately…and the Irishman loved it.

Caroline and Corrie moved into the apartment across from Chet after she was released from the hospital. Due to her back injury, she required a ground floor apartment and fate provided what she needed near the man she now considered to be her hero. Over the past few months, she had been faithfully doing her exercises and stretches and other than a slight limp and some minor twinges of pain, she was doing well. Her physicians had been amazed at her recovery as well as that of her daughter. Corrie, had no residual effects from the near-fatal accident and every day Caroline looked at her, she rejoiced in the miracle that was Corrie Marks. Now, she was finally going to get to share this special day with some very special people in their lives. She had invited the A-shift from Station 51 and it had sounded as though at least some of them might come. Her in-laws were making the three hour drive to be there for their granddaughter's special day. They were still a big part of Caroline and Corrie's lives and for that she would be eternally grateful. Her own parents were deceased and so she still looked to Mr. and Mrs. Marks for advice on parenting and many other things. Even though their son was gone, a part of him would always be alive in his daughter.

Caroline looked around at the table with the cake and chips on it and repositioned the decorations so that everything was perfect. She double checked the punch in her freezer and was pleased that it was quite slushy then she headed back to Corrie's room to brush the toddler's hair one last time before her guests began to arrive.

She had just cinched Corrie's white bow in her hair when she heard a knock on her front door.

"That might be Grammy and Pop, Corrie. Let's go see."

The two of them laughingly made their way down the hallway and were all smiles when she pulled open her front door.

"Mizzer Fet," Corrie squealed at the top of her lungs reaching up to the grinning lineman.

"Well, hello there ladybug," Chet crooned reaching down for the little girl and hoisting her up in his arms. He looked back over at Caroline and nearly lost his breath at her stunning natural beauty. "And..uh…hello to you too, Caroline."

"Hi Chet…I'm so glad you could come," she smiled welcomingly as she stepped back away from the doorway. "Please come on in."

He stepped across the threshold and allowed the squirming child to slide down from his grasp. She had spotted the gift he was carrying and giggled in delight.

"Dat my birfday pe-zent?"

Chet gave Caroline a little wink then knelt down in front of the jumping child. "Well, lemme see," he began peeking beneath the ribbon as if searching for a name. "It says here that this is for the prettiest little girl in the world. Now, is that you?"

Corrie clapped her hands together and nodded her head.

"Ok and it says here," he said emphasizing the other side. "That it's only for the sweetest little girl in the world. Is that you?"

Again, the child couldn't contain her excitement and began to dance around him in a sort of childish marching motion.

"And it says right here in the middle that it's for the most special little girl in the world who is turning three years old today." He looked at her widening his eyes as if in surprise. "Are you three years old today, ladybug?"

"Yea!" She clapped then struggled to hold up three pudgy fingers and reached for the present.

"Hold on there, Corrie. We have to wait until everyone gets here before you open it."

Chet watched as the little girl lowered her face, poking out her bottom lip as she promptly sat down on the floor in the middle of the room, pouting. He saw the look Caroline had on her face and knew that perhaps his services were needed in a different type of rescue this time. He plopped himself down in front of Corrie and crossed his legs. He propped his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands. He waited as Corrie watched him with the inquiring look of wonder only a child can possess. She drew her faint dark blonde eyebrows together in curiosity wondering why a grown man was behaving like a child. He continued to stare at her dark eyes, mimicking her position, and then slowly allowed a snicker to escape from beneath his mustache. Soon it was followed by another stifled giggle as his face reddened a bit. He twitched his mouth a little causing his mustache to wiggle as he exaggerated his efforts to restrain his laughter. This tiny bit of movement resulted in a loud round of high pitched giggles from the guest of honor and soon the two of them were rolling in laughter just as another knock sounded at the front door.

E!

Hank stopped by the toy store on his way to Corrie's birthday party. He was beginning to regret that he'd accepted the invitation. He walked aimlessly down aisle after aisle of suitable toys for a three year old as his mind took him back to the time when he was a young father of two small daughters. He could almost hear their giggles and see their flowing dark hair hanging in soft curls down their backs as they walked these same aisles. The misty memories moved on to moments he'd shared pushing them on the swings at the park near their home. Higher, Daddy, higher! He could still hear their young voices squealing with delight as he pushed the swings a little harder; the sensation of the soft cotton fabric of their matching outfits rubbing across his palms as he pushed first Melissa with his right hand and then her younger sister Victoria with his left made him want to dig deeper into the memory and hug them tightly, never letting them grow up. The memory of the butterfly wispiness of their hair streaming across his lower arms with each push sent shivers down his spine.

Then the reality of his situation came crashing down on him as harshly as a roof collapsing after a fire has eaten away its support walls. Kyle Carrigan had been only a few months away from joining his life with the woman he loved. Hank wondered to himself if their marriage might have resulted in Kyle also enjoying the bonds of a father/daughter relationship had the young man's life not been snuffed out too soon.

Station 51 had been the first to arrive on scene that night nearly a month ago and as was the protocol, Hank assumed the role of incident commander. He had given the orders directing his men and those from two other stations, including their paramedics, to man hoses and attack the inferno. He had just made the decision to change tactics when an explosion ripped through the night…and unknowingly tore his own sanity apart at the seams. The outcome of that fateful night left one firefighter deceased, another critically injured and one of his own committing an act that should have left him banned from the department for life. Firefighter Kelly, with the help of his crew mates, had been restored to the fold of Station 51's A-shift against Hank's better judgment. Paramedic Jacobs would survive and in all likelihood would one day return to the fire service after a lengthy recovery. But it was the face of Paramedic Kyle Carrigan that haunted Hank every minute of every day.

He squeezed his eyes closed slowing his breathing down and calming his rapid heartbeat. When he dared to open them again, he found that he had wandered away from the girls toys and was standing in front of a plastic replica of a 1930's model antique fire truck. "Damn it," he mumbled, looking sheepishly around him afterwards grateful that no young children had heard his foul language.

From the adjacent aisle, Hank heard a small voice that sounded familiar and then an adult voice he recognized.

"Look, Mommy…let's get her a Mrs. Beasley doll like mine," the small voice called out.

"Jennifer, I think that's a good choice, don't you Chris?"

Hank scrubbed his face briskly with the palm of his hand then hurriedly rushed empty handed out the door. He really did not want to run into the family of one of his men in a toy store when his mind was elsewhere. He was in no mood for celebrating. There was only one place he wanted to be at the moment and it wasn't at a birthday party for a three year old girl.

On the opposite side of the parking lot, Roy DeSoto watched as the tall fire captain rushed from the entrance of the store without making a purchase. He watched as Hank got in his car and turned right out of the parking lot. Obviously, the captain had a different destination in mind. "Cap?" The paramedic questioned softly inside his vehicle as his blue eyes followed the rapidly departing black sedan. He wanted to follow the man but his wife and children were inside the store picking out a present for the little girl they had never met and he had promised Corrie that he would come to her birthday party and bring his kids. Roy was a man of honor and knew that a promise had to be upheld but as a father himself, he knew this was especially true when that promise was made to a small child. Now he sat waiting in the parking lot and hoping that he would have a chance to speak privately to his superior at some point in the near future. Captain Stanley had not been the same man since the fire that had cost Kyle Carrigan his life. The change had been abrupt and Roy thought he understood why. He just hoped he could intervene before Hank did something he would forever regret.

E!