Dedication-Every summer when the dry winds blow there is a special breed of man who goes into the wilderness and tries to calm flame. Wildfirefighting is incredibly back breaking work which tests the limits of the human body. It is also dangerous, for even when you do everything in your power to stay safe sometimes Mother Nature bring death to rain down on your head and suck the life out of your lungs. Yet that is only one half of the story. Because of that this story is dedicated to not only those who fight fire, but those who they leave behind.

Disclaimer- I do not own Hetalia, and while I am an technically an emergency responder I tend to deal with emergencies from the aerial perspective so if I get some of the technical stuff wrong please forgive me. I hang out with firefighter, hotshots, EMT's, and pilots, but I have yet to develop telepathy so I don't always follow their trains of thought. Also, I am probably going to kill off a few of your favorite characters, don't yell at me…

My Brother's Keeper

Chapter 1- Smoke on the Horizon

The September sun hung blood red in the smoke darkened skies over Santa Mundo as flames licked the hills and mountains surrounding the port city. Trapped between the mountains and the sea it almost seemed like wildfire was trying to back the city alive. The Labor Day weekend heat was suffocating and no one could avoid the acrid taste of ash that filled people's mouths with every breath. Stuck smack dab in the middle of the trapped city was the cities lone trauma center was taking the brunt of the medical load caused by both the fire and the vacation season.

"Come on people we don't have time to dawdle. Pile up on the 101." Dr. Arthur Kirkland, the sharp tongued head of Emergency Medicine catalyzed his overworked staff once again to action. "Seven ambulances inbound; 3 critical and 14 minors."

"Will people ever learn?" Nurse Toris Laurinaitis muttered under his breath as he dragged himself out of the chair in the break and made a beeline for the coffee pot. "Smoke, tourists, and California driving is a really bad combination."

"Probably about the same time they will figure out that it is a bad idea to build your house in the middle of a wildfire zone." Head Trauma Nurse Emma Peeters didn't even bother lifting her head as she spoke.

"All I can say is that I am really glad that I am not the one out there." Dr. Mathew Williams, the hospital new fellow admitted as he glanced out at the ugly situation outdoors. At the moment he couldn't understand why he had left the comforts of Canada for this God forsaken place.

"I could care less what you folks think." Dr. Kirkland stuck his head back through the door and shouted at the slow moving staff. "Ambulance ETA 9 minutes."

"Just 6 more hours on this shift." Mathew muttered like a mantra as he dragged himself to his feet the moment that Dr. Kirkland had headed back into the hall to drag some of the other staff out of the corners they had been trying to get a few minutes shuteye in. The effects of the fire had left the hospital overwhelmed with patients and understaffed. No one had gotten a full night's in over four days.

"Keep telling yourself that boy." Emma scoffed as she performed a cat like stretch, but her voice wasn't cutting just cool with decades of experience. "Well it's time to get back to work people."

"Come on lady's!" Alfred F. Jones hollered from his rocky birch overlooking his hot shot fire crew. "Lunch time is over and that fire isn't going to fit itself. Let's pack up and get moooving!"

To Alfred's pleasure the firefighters had already starting to back up by the time his voice had stopped echoing in the rocky ravine. There was a fair amount of good natured grumbling, but as exhausted as his men were Alfred would have been surprised if they the men didn't have a thing or two to say. If Alfred hadn't been the chief of this crew, he probably would have been grumbling right along with them.

Jumping down from his lookout point, Alfred once again scanned the horizon looking for possible sources of danger. The fire they were assigned to was a fast moving one. Over 4,000 of the communities' residents had packed themselves into Red Cross shelters after being evacuated from the outlying suburbs. At least 200 of these families were now homeless, their homes having been swallowed by the fast moving fire leaving nothing but smoldering ashes and scorched foundations, but luckily no lives were directly lost to the flames. Alfred was going to do his very best to make sure it stayed that way.

"Ludwig. How is everyone doing on water?" He hollered to the Foreman siting on the neighboring rock.

"Running a bit low." The no funny business firefighter admitted after checking his notes. "I estimate that men will start running out in the next three hours. "

"Good to know, I will have Kiku call back to base and tell them that they either need move up the supply dump by two hours or pull us from the field." Alfred wiped a dirty glove across his sweaty forehead and stared up at the southern California sun. "It is just too damn hot to fight fires without adequate hydration. We will start losing people to heat exhaustion. Good work Ludwig, stay on top of the water situation. If it looks like we will run out sooner than expected let me know and we will come up with a plan B."

"Yes sir." Ludwig said with a nod then he turned his attention back to the maps, charts, and inventory lists that kept the North Canyon Hotshot crew working like a well-oiled machine allowing his leader to move on to the next task.

"Alfred, would you mind turning up your radio? Headquarters is on the squawk for you and they are pretty miffed that they were not able to get in contact with you directly." The familiar voice of Kiku Honda, his best friend and the units second Foreman, caused the hotshot chief to turnaround.

"And what do the grape eaters want?" He shouted back as soon as he spotted his friend's perch in the branches of a half dead looking tree.

"Some VIP at Headquarters needs to speak with you."

"Of course they do." Alfred said his lips pressed thin in frustration these types of calls rarely meant something good. He knew that the regions Emergency Services were severely short staffed when it came to a fire of this magnitude. He also knew that between the holiday weekend and the airports down Headquarters was really struggling bringing in additional personal. Still that didn't give them the right to work his people to the point of serious injury. After their last couple orders had them hiking nine miles up and down craggy cliffs, only to have some pencil pusher decide seven miles in that they wanted them to march 10 miles in the opposite direction he didn't have a whole lot of respect to the people giving him orders right now. "Kiku, tell headquarters that I am dealing with a bit of a situation and that I will be on them shortly."

The experience firefighter took a deep breath. He couldn't afford to have thoughts like that right now. He could disagree with an order, he could even occasionally give the radio operator on the other end an earful, but he would never refuse to act on an order from Headquarters unless he had a really good reason. Headquarters had the maps, had the data, and had the experts to figure out where boots on the ground needed to be in order to best fight the flames. So, after taking a few moments to clear his head Alfred keyed the mike.

"Headquarters, this is Alfred Jones, Super of the North Canyon Hotshot Team. Over."

Holding the radio a good arm's length away from his ear he listened to one of the commanders at Headquarters give him a tongue lashing. All the while below him his men cackled in amusement. Well, at least his men were have a good laugh at his expense, Alfred admitted, because this isn't a particular fun place to find myself in. Finally the tirade slowed and Bureaucrat on the other end who was clearly never been the boots on the ground for an actual wildfire started to loose speed.

"I apologize that I was unable to answer your initial call, sir. But with all due respect I had one of my Forman monitoring the radio frequencies while I was taking care of some pressing matters involving my men. Over."

"And what was so pressing that you couldn't drop it for 30 seconds?"

Oh, he hated speaking with idiots who don't even bother familiarizing themselves with the basis of radio communication before jumping onto the airwaves and chewing someone out. "I was monitoring the water consumption of my men. Over."

Another long winded rant during which Alfred kept his radio at arm's reach. When the firefighter felt like he could get a word edgewise he interrupted the man on the other side of the radio.

"Sir, I understand that you are concerned about current fire situation. If you are going to yell at me for failing to save those homes, fine. But don't ever yell at me for putting the needs of my men first. Things can be replaced, buildings can be rebuilt, but once a human life is lost it is lost forever and none of my men are expendable. Now unless you have something to say that is actually worth my attention, I should get back to my job keeping my men and the community safe, out." Alfred then promptly tuned his radio to another channel before looking up at foreman in charge of radio communications. "Kiku, let me know if anyone from Headquarters says something that is actually worth listening to."

Kiku paused for a long moment listening to his radio before replying. "Well your charming personality made quite the impression. The IC would like to have a chat with you when you get back to base."

"Roger that." Alfred said tiredly. At this point getting chewed out but the higher ups was pretty much inevitable.

"Just tell them that we will be taking over headquarters instead of heading back to our box tonight. I think we would all be a lot more comfortable with you at the helm then one of those bureaucratic bimbos." Vash Zwingli, the hotshot's designated medical officer, smirked and hard glint in his eye.

"I am sure that would go over well Vash, but I think that we will stick to the plan. Hit that ridge hard. Hand hack a firebreak and if we can, do a back burn. If can't do a back burn before night fall then we will retreat and try again tomorrow." Alfred said with a shrug, then he smiled like a cat who ate the canary. "But public relations are not really part of your job description is it. So Mr. EMT, how did blister check go?"

Since is very first shift in the ER as an intern a little hospital in Manitoba, Mathew William had grown to hate working car crashes. They were their own little disasters that shredded metal and living flesh the same. Accidents indiscriminately maiming people with no regard about their age, gender, occupation, or race. This was the reason that the young doctor was currently wrist deep in the chest cavity of an eight year old child.

"It is time to let her go." Mathew barely heard Dr. Kirkland's voice over the pounding of adrenaline in his own ears.

"But…"

"You have been trying to revive her for 35 minutes with no success and we are in a mass cal situation. Give up."

"There are still things we can try." He tried to argue between internal compressions.

"But do we have the resources to try them. We have fourteen patients from this pile up in the ER and a helicopter inbound with two more. We can't afford to expend resources on someone who has two feet already in the grave." Kirkland snapped. "Let the nurses clean up her and go help someone else."

With the attending trauma doctor staring him down Mathew had no choice but to admit defeat. "Time of death 10:40."

Dr. Kirkland didn't even bother making eye contact as he exited the area and stalked away to make sure that resources weren't being wasted, leaving the young doctor to pick up the pieces. Not knowing what else to do he stripped off his bloody gloves, threw them on the floor, and squeezed his eyes shut. After a few breaths he felt one of the nurses come to his side.

"Mathew, this little girl was already too far gone for us to save the moment that she was rolled into the ER." Emma fingers were feather light on his shoulder. "There was nothing that we could have done to save her."

"That doesn't mean we stop trying." Mathew tried to blink away the tears forming at the edges of his eyes.

"No." Her grip was hard on his arm as the Trauma nurse looked into his eyes with the hard glint that came from years in the ER. "It means we have to be wise enough to learn when things have left our hands and entered God's. And I know that the surgeons seem to be convinced that they are gods, but there are still things that are simply out of our control. Now go and help someone who is within the realm of saving."

The young doctor swallowed hard as he pushed out of the trauma room. His head spun with questions about how he could have done things differently, but his heart ached with the realization that even with help he would never have been able to save the patient. He didn't have time to dwell that fact for long. Trauma surgeon Dr. Antonio Carriedo, who insisted that ever on call him everyone on staff called him Antonio, needed help in the next curtain over. With surgery the mother would most likely survive.

End Note- Well I did warn you that I would be killing off a number of characters in this story didn't I. Still I hoped that you enjoyed the first installment. I will be posting the next chapter next week, but if you want to find out what happened early let me know. I am currently looking for Beta reader to go through the story. If would be interesting in helping this story be the best it can be let me know. Even if you are not interested in being a Beta reader I would love to hear from you. Reviews and comments really help keep the writing process going.

Human Names Used In This Chapter- Arthur Kirkland (England), Toris Laurinaitis (Lithuania), Emma Peeters (Belgium), Mathew Williams (Canada), Alfred F. Jones (America), Ludwig Beilschmidt (Germany), Kiku Honda (Japan), Vash Zwingli (Switzerland), and Antonio Carriedo (Spain).

Next Chapter- Backing Wind- Wildfires in California have always been particularly difficult to fight with but with a backing wind and pyrocumulonimbus clouds building on the horizon things are about Alfred Jones' Hotshot team are jumping out of the bureaucratic frying pan and into the fire.