AN: Hey guys, I'm back with a new story. I've been working on this for quite some time now (I literally had watched too much Chicago Fire to let this idea go to waste). You'll see that it's different from my usual work. Darker, more heartbreaking. And once again, I hope you'll take this journey with me.

AN2: As usual, most of the characters are borrowed, but some come from my very own imagination.

I'll try to make sure to write an OUAD update soon as well.

"Malia Arianna Torres, you better be down here and ready to go in two minutes or I'm leaving without you!", Callie Torres hollered up the stairs to get her niece's attention. The almost nine year old was a handful, but the tall Latina would be lying to herself if she would say she wanted her any other way. Her niece had a mind of her own and apparently, being tardy to school was the new cool thing in her world. The brunette on the other hand had not only to get her niece to school, but she also had to be at the firehouse in less than an hour and if traffic would get in the way again, they would both be late – again. "MALIA!", she bellowed again, albeit knowing that it was fruitless and that might have been her own fault.

When she was named legal guardian of her late brother's daughter – after losing both of her parents in a plane crash that took another 142 lives – Callie let her get away with too many things because she wanted to give Malia and herself enough time to grieve, compensating the loss of the rest of the Torres family with overindulgence. That was one and a half years ago and Malia had made great improvement since then. They had grown together, the brunette just often found herself wishing she wouldn't have to be so strict with her all the time. She had never been one to make rules. Following rules was easy, especially at work where every mistake could cost a life, but telling someone she loved to go to bed on time – she didn't feel ready for that. She wanted to be a firefighter. That's why she chose not to have a child and because of that she ended her longest relationship. A relationship with the only person she would probably ever see herself growing old with, but when her fiancée at the time wanted to have a child, she couldn't keep both of them from being happy. So she set both of them free because they wanted different things in life and only short six months after that, at the age of twenty-six, she was pushed into the role of being a mother. A mother to a child that had just lost almost everything. And that had changed everything. Being responsible for her niece had changed her for the better. After she broke off the engagement, all Callie did was work and on her days off, she drank her weight in alcohol and went home with a different woman almost every weekend. She hadn't been drunk one day since taking in the little whirlwind and her love – and sex – life was nonexistent. "MALIA!"

"I'm ready, tia Callie", the little girl came running down the stairs, her backpack haphazardly slung over her left shoulder, the curly hair pulled out of her face and up into two unruly and uneven pigtails, some toothpaste in the corners of her mouth. The sight was endearing and it honestly matched the chaos that was reigning the younger Torres' room most days.

If Callie wouldn't have been in such a hurry, she would have laughed. Instead she chose to thank the Lord that Malia's clothes, at least, didn't clash today. "Come here", she beckoned and told her niece to sit down on the chair next to her. Pulling out both hair ties, the Latina combed through the soft strands with her fingers before redoing the pigtails, which wasn't an easy task seeing that the girl tried to put on her shoes at the same time. "Did you pack everything you need?"

"Mhmm", Malia hummed, double-tying the laces of her left shoe and then doing the same with the right shoe, just like her dad had taught her.

Callie sighed. "Zola's mom will pick you up after school and tomorrow at two, I'll be waiting in front of the gate to pick you up myself, okay?" It was the same routine ever third day. Once she would go into work, she would be up for twenty-four hours, trying to save every life she could and overpower the flames under the guidance of Lieutenant Hunt and Battalion Chief Webber. After that, she would be off for the next twenty-four hours and try to get as much sleep as possible before picking up her niece only to spend as much quality time with her as she could. The counselor had said that Malia needed that, a constant routine and bonding time with her aunt, but to be honest, Callie needed it just as much.

Without her friends – her family – from the firehouse 22, she would not be able to do any of that and she knew it. She couldn't be a single parent and a firefighter at the same time and doing both the justice they needed. At work, she needed to be concentrated all the time. And at home, she needed to be there for Malia and not run out of the house whenever there was a fire. But she had help. And Meredith, Derek Shepherd's wife was a saint to her, watching Malia whenever she had to work and she, in turn, watched both girls whenever the married couple wanted a night out. "Promise me to be good for Meredith, okay?", she asked, kissing the top of the dark-haired head.

"Of course, tia Callie", the girl agreed, jumped from the chair and ran to the door to get her jacket from the rack on the wall. "I forgot my Nana!", she yelped and sped up the stairs to get the stuffed ice-bear which she couldn't sleep without. It was the last plush toy she got from her parents. In the beginning, Nana went everywhere Malia went. School, doctor's appointments and counseling. Now she only hugged it at night and that just in the span of barely eighteen months.

"Hurry up!", the Latina yelled and checked her duffle bag one last time, even though she already knew that she had everything she needed. Most of the stuff she needed was in her locker at work anyway, but it never hurt to have an extra pair of clothes on top of the extra pair she already had at work.

Malia came back bouncing down the stairs, jumping the last few steps and landing safely on her sneaker-clad feet. "Now I am ready", she grinned, slipped into her jacket and picked up her backpack. "Tia Callie?" She waited for her aunt to look at her and then asked, "You will come back to me, right? You have to promise and cross your heart, tia Callie."

"I will always come back to you, Malia", the Latina replied, like every morning when she headed off to work and her niece needed the confirmation. "I promise." She crossed her heart, smiling as the little Latina watched her every move. Opening her arms after that, she let the girl hug her as tight as the muscles in her small arms could afford and held on tight to the slim form of her niece. "I love you, as much as the sky has stars. But now we have to hurry."

"I love you, too. To the moon and back", Malia replied and in a whim, she was out of the door and securely seated in the back of her aunt's car, already playing with her Nintendo 3DS as Callie got in behind the steering wheel. "Can we go to the mall tomorrow and get me a new Professor Layton game? I am almost finished with this one."

"We bought this one a month ago, Malia", the brunette laughed, looking at the girl through the rear-view mirror. Big brown eyes were focused on the brainteaser, the bottom lip trapped between perfect white teeth. "What did you do? Stay up every night and play the game?"

Malia shrugged, "I'm just good at it." And she was. She loved to unravel mysteries and the fact that Zola, her now best friend, loved it too and they often solved the riddles together was just an added bonus in the girl's life. Something Callie was really glad about. "Please?"

"I see what I can do", Callie replied, still chuckling. It wasn't a question about money. She had grown up with a trust fund, just like her brother and his money was now all put in an account for Malia to have when she was old enough. But she really tried not to spoil her niece too much. Callie herself mostly lived from her salary as a firefighter. With no rent to pay for an apartment because she bought a small house with her parents' money after the relationship ended – she simply couldn't live alone at the place they had shared, the money she made was more than enough for Malia and herself. Technically, it was the only time she had ever taken money from the trust fund, she didn't want do rely on her parents' money, even after she inherited half of it.

"Tia Callie?", Malia asked, looking up and waited for her aunt's eyes to meet hers through the mirror. "Why did our parents die so early? Papá told me abuela died from cancer and abuelo missed her too much, he was too lonely and eventually, he let God take him to be with abuela again. Why did my parents die? Did they miss abuelo and abuela too much?"

Questions like these always startled Callie. Usually, Malia refused to talk about death. She acknowledged it, knew that her parents were no longer alive, but she didn't like to talk about it. Every once in a while though, she asked questions like these and the adult Latina did never have an answer. "I don't know, Malia. Sometimes, life is not fair to us and takes people away from us. Even though we love them and want them around all the time." Just like Callie had wanted to marry the only woman she ever truly loved. People say that, at least, life was unfair to everybody, but that didn't exactly help. In her eyes, her family, she and her niece, had suffered enough for a lifetime.

Malia sighed and looked back down at the device in her hands before checking her backpack for the charger, finding that she forgot it at home. "Can we turn around and get the charger for my Nintendo?"

"Not today, sweetie. We're almost there and I have to be at the firehouse in thirty minutes. Just ask Zola if you can borrow hers, okay?" At the next green light, she turned left and stopped in front of the school. "Tomorrow, 2pm", she said again and her niece nodded before Callie held out her cheek, knowing that the girl would lean forward to place a smooching kiss on it. "Love you."

"Love you too!"

And suddenly, the car was silent. Her head fell back against the headrest as tan fingers clasped the steering wheel. Many months had passed since she had lost her brother, since she and Malia became a family. But that didn't mean that the hole in their hearts had closed as well. "I miss you, Arias", she said to literally no one before starting the engine, hoping that she would not be late today.

"Good morning, Lieutenant", the brunette greeted the man when she entered the locker room – she had arrived just in time – and found Owen Hunt putting his belongings away. He was a good Lieutenant, always looked out for the firefighters of the truck company 42. Yes, it was his job, but there were good Lieutenants like him and there were bad seed who still thought women didn't belong on a firetruck. Callie had proved them all wrong, but she wouldn't be here if somebody would not have given her the chance in the first place.

"Good morning, Torres. How is Malia?", he asked with genuine interest, closing his locker and facing the tall brunette. He loved the girl – just like probably everybody else from the firehouse did – and whenever she came by to visit, he let her sit in the truck with him, enjoying the young Latina's made up stories of fires and people she saved.

"She's good. Really good. She wants to become a firefighter when she grows up and because I really love my job and I could never imagine doing something else, I fear that her dream won't change and that I can't protect her and then she gets hurt." She had never thought she would ever feel that way, so overly protective about someone who is not her lover, but Malia was too precious, so important to her. Protecting her niece was her number one priority.

Patting the Latina's shoulder, Hunt laughed, "She still has a few years before she grows up, you should just enjoy that time. And as long as she is a badass firefighter like her aunt, I think she can handle it. She can learn from one of the best, Torres. I think the injuries you've had since you've transferred from firehouse 10 almost two years ago, are countable on one hand, so I really wouldn't worry too much if Malia takes after you." After that, he left the brunette alone to change. Unisex locker rooms were not really the best solution, especially for the women who chose to work in a so called 'man's world'. So everybody at the firehouse respectfully left the room as soon as they were done whenever the female firefighters or paramedics had to change.

"Firehouse 22, fire in an apartment building, 528 Lenora Street. Truck 42, Squad 8, ambulance 72, battalion 11", came the female voice through the speakers after the obnoxiously loud siren called for attention and Callie groaned in annoyance before pulling the sweatshirt over her head. After making sure that Malia had had her breakfast for a good start into the day, she had completely forgotten to have some as well – beside the regular morning coffee, of course. And usually, it didn't matter, there was always enough food at the firehouse to feed every hungry mouth. But today, it seemed, she didn't get to get anything before the first run.

Running to the truck, she quickly jumped into the pants and boots of her uniform and grabbed her jacket from the hook before climbing into the truck. "Morning guys", she smiled, looking at tired faces in the backseats of the truck as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "Rough night?"

"Don't ask", Henry Burton replied grumpily. "Remind me to never ever be Sloan's wing-man again. That guy can drink way too much and still be all chipper and fine the next morning. He needs you back, Torres. You are used to this. And you are way better at picking up girls for him than any of us."

"Sorry, no can do", Callie laughed. On the outside. But on the inside, her heart stung just a little bit more than it did a minute ago. Nights out with her best friend of fifteen years, Mark Sloan, were a thing of the past. She had Malia now. And even though the girl couldn't mend her heart completely, the brunette chose to stay alone and dwell in her memory instead. "But maybe I can show you a trick or two."

"It's the fourth fire in the same building within the last three weeks", Lieutenant Hunt called from the front seat as George O'Malley, driver of truck 42, steered the heavy vehicle through Seattle's traffic, following the squad's truck. "Be careful out there. I think we're dealing with a case of malicious arson."

Callie took a look at the other firefighters. Everybody had its own habit of preparation before going into a building that was on fire. Some prayed, some stared ahead or out of the window, others took it so light, they made jokes before they arrived at the scene. And she always thought about Malia and-

"We're here", Hunt announced and jumped out of the truck, quickly taking in as many details of the situation as he could. It looked like the fire was raging from floor three to five. "Alright, O'Malley, Burton, check the elevator and stop it if you need to. Madden, Hanson, get the ladder in position. Torres, we'll take the stairs and start on the fifth floor, checking the apartments and work our way down. Go, go, go!"

"Got it, Lieutenant", the Latina nodded to Hunt's words and grabbed one of the oxygen bottles and the mask, before following the Lieutenant up the front stairs. Securing the oxygen cylinder on her back and the mask over her face, she gave the man a tight nod and was through the door right after him. People came running down the stairs, crying, screaming, fleeing from the smoke and the fire as the two firefighters crested flight after flight, the smoke getting darker and thicker with every floor they left behind.

Once they reached the fifth floor, barely able to see anything, Hunt turned around to Callie and said, "I'll go left, you go right. Get everyone out. You've got maximum two minutes for yourflank, Torres."

That was the rush of the job, the thing that gave her the thrill she always needed. Kicking the first door open, she yelled, "Fire department, anyone in here?" But nobody answered. She looked through the rest of the apartment, relieved that it was indeed empty and moved on to the next one. "Elevator's clear", O'Malley's voice echoed through the radio system when Callie came out of the last apartment on her side, met Hunt in the middle and they swiftly made their way back down to the fourth floor.

"Fire department, anyone here?" No voice, no sound. The smoke wasn't too thick in here, she could actually see pretty much everything. It was the same procedure as on the upper floor and she once again found no victim, but saw how Sloan made it out of one of the windows, most likely after rescuing someone over the ladder. Essentially, that was a good thing. Not only did it mean that the rescue squad was evacuating the house from the outside, but it also meant that they could soon start to put out the blaze.

"Alright, one more floor Torres and then let's get out of here before it blows up in our faces. Madden, are you done with the roof?"

"All done, Sir", came the response.

"Hunt, I give you one minute before I need you to retreat", Chief Webber ordered over the radio.

Both, Hunt and Callie nodded before opening yet another apartment door. The Latina called out again, nothing. She opened every door, nothing, no sign of anybody. But just when she turned around, she saw a hand behind a couch. And then there was a second, smaller hand. "Shit. Victims in apartment 304, I need help in here!", she yelled when she saw that it was a woman and a child in her arms. "Hunt!"

Hunt had come running to the Latina after checking the last apartment on his side, "I'm here Torres. I'll take the woman. Get the child out of here." Throwing the unconscious woman over his shoulder, the Lieutenant trotted away, his steps heavier with the additional weight he carried. Luckily for them, the fire hadn't reached the hallways yet.

Nodding, thankful for the quick work of her Lieutenant, Callie picked up the child, a boy – not older than her niece, over and over covered with soot and the skin of his left arm, from the shoulder down to his hand, heavily burned. Shaking the image that this was Malia out of her head, the brunette followed Hunt down the stairs. The sight got better and better the lower she got. She had learned not to count the stairs or steps, instead she was taught to keep going until she could see the light, either of the day, or from the blue lights of the sirens shining in the night.

Another few steps and she was out of the building, immediately searching for a free stretcher. There were people everywhere and when Callie finally found an empty gurney and the paramedics that came running towards her to meet her halfway, she didn't look up until she had the chance to put the boy down. Exhausted from the rescue, she closed her eyes before pulling of her mask, using the sleeve of her uniform to wipe the sweat from her forehead. When she opened her eyes again, she stared into a pair of painfully, too familiar pools of intense blue.

"Calliope?"

AN3: So, did you like that?