Disclaimer: they're not mine, I don't own them, and probably never will...probably

*A few notes

-this is my first fic, so please please please be nice to me.

-A * means Carlos's thoughts

-A ~ means a flashback



1 They Don't Know Me.

They don't know me. They don't even try to or want to. The only one who ever showed the slightest interest in the "real" me was Doc, and his, like everyone else's, was only a fleeting one. Maybe everyone is right; maybe I am nothing but an uncaring, insensitive bastard.

"Yo, Carlos! Any one home, man?"

"Wha-" He came out of his daze with a start. "Sorry."

"What's with you today?"

"What isn't?" he muttered.

"Huh?"

"Nothin, nevermind."

It was another typical day for Carlos and Doc with a few drunks, a car accident, and a couple domestic abuses cases. Those were the worst for Carlos. They tended to bring back the memories that he tried so hard to forget. Some of the really bad ones caused him to have nightmares for weeks. Finally, they're shift was over, and they were on their way back to the fire house.

Just then a call came over the radio. Neighbors heard shouts and screams, then nothing, so they called the police. Sully and Davis were already there, and even though they were already off, they were the closest bus so therefore had to go.

"It's pretty bad up there." Davis said as he came out the door. "Two kids, about six and seven. The little one is in the car, he's mostly scared, but the older one is still in there. The mother was beating the younger kid for messin up his piano lessons or something, and when the older one tried to stop here, she just snapped. "

Without a word, Doc and Carlos hurried towards the door. This wasn't usually the kind of house they got these kinds of calls from. It looked pretty expensive. The inside was even more extravagant. A polished and dusr free grand piano stood in the parlor. Just behind it lay the body of a young boy.

~"Carlos! Help me! Momma's gone crazy!!!"

These cries came form a small girl, no older than five. She was on the floor, and had just received a kick in thhe ribs by a woman standing over her. Suddenly, the woman's eyes fell on him, acknowledging his prescence.

"Stay out of this boy! You'll get your's when I'm through with this!"

She raised her foot again, prepared to deliver another blow to the young girl when eight year old Carlos dove at her from behind.

"Leave Alex alone! She didn't do anything!! Get away from her!"

He knew he would pay dearly for his actions, but he couldn't let Alex get any more hurt htan she already was. She was so much smaller and weaker then he. Even if he couldn't totally protect her, he could draw Thei "Momma's" attention long enough for her to get away, maybe even to get help. With that thought, he felt a hand around the back of his neck. Suddenly the wall was rushing towards him. He would have liked to sink into the black oblivion that threatened to enveloped him, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see Alex, still struggling to get up. If he could keep "Momma" busy for a little longer, she could get out. So, with the wall behind him fo rsupport, he stood and faced the woman again, looking directly into her bloodshot eyes. She lowered her face to his and he could smell the alcohol on her breath.

"You just never learn! Well, I'll make sure you learn it this time!"

She raises her hand shakily and hit him hard across the face. It sung, but he stood his ground. Alex was almost at the door. Then, without warning, "momma" grabbed her bottle off the table and broke it over Carlos' head. He couldn't stand his ground any longer. With tears in his eyes, he sank to the flood and into unconsinus.

He awoke later in a hospital bed. A kindly looking doctor smiled down on him.

"I guess that will teach you to fight with your sister, eh?"

"Huh?" Carlos had been through this before. Even in his groggy state, he knew that if he played dumd, pretended he couldn't remember, the doctor would fill in the details for him. At least, Momma's version of the details.

"What happened?"

"Well," the doctor began, looking slightly concerened, "your mom told me you were fighting with your little sister and you guys fell down the stairs. Do you remember any of this?"

I remember fighting with Alex, but that's it. Is she ok?"

"Oh, yes, a few bumps and bruises, but otherwise unscathed."

A look of relief flooded over the boy's face as he slipped back into darkness.*

"Hey, Nieto, a little help please."