Just a quick line or two, I don't own the guys at Station 51 or Rampart. I'm just borrowing them and promise to return them to their normal duties at the station when I am done. I do however own Jessie Johnson. One last thing, this is an OC centered story. If you don't like those please feel free to sit this one out.
Ch. 1
Flames and thick black smoke surrounded the pair as they attempted to advance through the warehouse. It was uncomfortably hot, but they carried on. Despite the team's best efforts the dragon continued to spread, fueled by self-preservation and massive amounts of chemicals. Two hours into the losing battle exhaustion crept up on the pair. As they were preparing to trade places Captain Moore's voice came over the radio.
"Engine 12 to HT 12."
"This is HT 12, go ahead Engine 12."
"The fire is advancing quickly in your direction. Get out of there!"
"10-4, Engine 12. We are on our way."
"Come on Jessie; we got to jet!" He said while tapping his partner on the shoulder.
Continuing to advance deeper his partner shook her head. She didn't want to give up so easily. Defeat was a word she seldom used. Pulling the line forward she began to go down a narrow hallway.
"Come on Weaver! Give me a couple more minutes I…"
"You heard Captain. Now let's GO!" Weaver commanded.
Weaver grabbed her arm and pulled her toward egress. Reluctantly she gave in and turned off the water. She didn't need a chewing from Captain Moore. When he gave orders he meant it and did not tolerate insubordination. His punishments for such actions were harsh to say the least. Together they headed out navigating through the fiery debris and hoses being sure to keep contact with each other. Thick black smoke filled the area making sight impossible so she relied on the mental map made on entry. The temperature was rising quickly. The dragon was close and getting closer. Her pace quickened. Jesse didn't notice he'd lost his grip on her. As she continued forward the floor began to shift.
She turned to grab Weaver, but it was too late he was gone. Jessie quickly scanned the area hoping he'd jumped out of the way, but the only things visible were embers and smoke pouring out of a freshly opened hole. She quickly ran to the edge.
"I don't recall Captain mentioning anything about a basement." She said out loud to no one in particular.
Falling to the floor on her stomach she crawled to the edge. Her pulse rate quickened and she began to feel short of breath. Panic was setting in. Two feet directly below Weaver was hanging on a beam protruding from the floor. He struggled to maintain his grip, but it was quickly failing. Reaching out Jessie grabbed his jacket and SCBA straps. She tried desperately to pull him up. Her arms felt as though they were being torn apart, but she refused to give up.
"Come on! Come on! I can't give up. I can't lose my brother."
The straps dug deeply in her hands despite the leather gloves covering them. As embers burned her skin she screamed loudly, but maintained a tight grip on the air cylinder's wide straps.
"Jess, let me go! There is no sense in both of us falling." Weaver yelled.
"No, Brandon! I'm not letting you go. Give me your hand." She begged.
"No Jess, LET GO! It will be ok."
She looked into his face and was surprised to see no fear there. His blue eyes were calm and peaceful.
"It will be ok. Just let go. I'll be with you always. Tell my parents I love them. Tell them to remember John 15:13."
Jess began to slip forward and screamed as the embers burned deeper in her abdomen. Her grip quickly diminished when her left shoulder popped loudly. Her frantic efforts to regain control only accelerated her slide over the edge of the hole. Her fingers slipped from under the straps. Unable to hang on any longer she watched in horror as he fell into the smoke and fire filled abyss.
"NNNNNOOOOOOO!"
Bolting upright in bed, Jessie woke from the nightmare drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Staring into the darkness she could still see the look on Brandon's face as he fell. It was hauntingly peaceful. Trying hard to stifle the tears threatening her tired eyes she shook uncontrollably.
"When will this stop?!" She yelled into the quiet.
All that counseling and medication for what, so the memories of that night can still haunt me?
After glancing at the alarm clock she cursed. "That figures, its four A.M. That was the time that IT happened."
She picked up the clock and threw it against the wall in a fit of rage. The impact with the wall caused it to explode leaving the room in total darkness. Angrily she flipped the switch on the lamp sitting on a rickety bedside table. Another round of cursing left her mouth as she dragged an unwilling body out of bed.
E!
Stumbling around in the darkness Jessie tried to avoid the unpacked boxes that littered the floor in the narrow hall. To maintain balance she ran a hand softly down the rough wall. Unpacking wasn't an option at least for now. It seemed too permanent and she wasn't sure how long she'd be staying in Carson. Once in the kitchen she flipped on the dim light and fished the stainless steel percolator out of the drain board. While adding the grounds to the pot memories of her probationary time at Cedar Creek's Station 12 flashed in her mind.
"Damn it, Johnson! How many times to I have to tell you it's the Probies job to make the coffee?! It better be good."
"Lay off Davis. She's still new. If you will quit your griping you'll see it's already made. It's not bad either."
Davis snatched the pot off the gas stove angrily. He hated it when Hoover sided with the Probie. To him Probies were only good for one thing, manual labor. It was bad enough there were two of them and one was female.
"We'll see about that, Hoover"
Taking a sip Davis' eyebrows rose in surprise. He turned toward Jessie sitting at the table reading the paper. She shot him a smug look from over the paper.
"Not bad, Probie, It's not great, but it's not bad. Hell, at least it's better than that mess McGregor serves. Anything is better than McGregor's."
"Hey I take offense to that, Laddie! My cooking isn't that bad, ya know. I could be servin' haggis. How would ya like that?" McGregor countered in his thick Scottish accent.
Jessie chuckled while setting the pot on the stove. She missed the guys at Station 12, but things would never be the same there. Not after what she'd done. The department psychiatrist said she was running from the problem when she announced she was leaving Texas in search of a fresh start. In an act of defiance she told the shrink that he could go to hell and proceeded to tear her file in half. After throwing the file on the doctor's desk she promptly left the office slamming the door behind her.
She loaded the black Chevy truck in complete darkness and drove away. The only people who knew she was leaving were the department psychiatrist and Captain Moore. Captain's only response was 'good riddance.' If the others knew they would only waste time trying to convince her to stay. Jessie drove till she couldn't drive any longer ending up in Carson, California. After finding an affordable apartment she headed to the local fire department headquarters in search of a job.
The Brass at the LA County fire department was reluctant in hiring the first female to apply to the department. However after seeing her resume and some convincing by an attorney they agreed to a position as lineman at Station 51 on the condition there would be no special treatment. Special treatment was not something that she wanted anyway. She was more than capable of doing the job without it. To the amazement of the proctor she passed the required physical fitness exam well above the cadets.
E!
Two and a half hours later Jessie pulled into the parking area of Station 51. After parking beside a white Rover she sat quietly in an attempt to calm her nerves.
What am I getting so worked up over? I've done this job for over four years now. I show up do my job and leave. No bonding. They are coworkers and nothing more.
Getting out of the truck she grabbed a gear bag from the passenger side and took a long deep breath. Jessie felt nervous while crossing the parking lot. She entered the apparatus bay via a side door. The familiar and comforting scent of smoke surrounded her.
No matter how much you clean and wax you can never get all the smoke scent out of the apparatus and gear. It's like their mated for life, machine and fire one for eternity.
Jessie shook her head sadly at the sight of a rescue squad. This was one thing she hoped to escape. She wanted nothing to do with paramedics. HQ asked if she wanted to be placed on the paramedic waiting list, but she turned them down. They asked her to reconsider, but again she refused.
Great! The one station that has an opening comes complete with a paramedic rescue squad. Headquarters has one hell of a sense of humor.
While wondering how the men at the station would react to having a female work alongside them she took a deep calming breath and rounded the squad.
E!
Hank Stanley shook his head while drumming his fingers on the file of his newest crew member. He was surprised when Chief McConikee said Station 51 would receive the first female firefighter in department history. At first Hank though it was a joke meant as payment for burning McConikee's hat. However the chief's serious face quickly changed his mind.
'Hank, I'm not sure if this is going to work, but I figured if the girl would have any chance it would be with you and your boys. Now I don't want you giving her any special treatment. She has to make it on her own.'
Hank leaned back and opened the file. Jessie's picture stared back at him from the inside cover. Her eyes failed to make full contact with the camera and the small smile showed signs that it was forced. He knit his eyebrows in concern. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but based solely on the photograph Jessie was hurting. He skimmed the rest of the file. His eyebrows rose in surprise.
She's a licensed paramedic?!
Out of curiosity he picked up the phone and waited for the dialed party to answer.
"Hey Tom, its Hank I have a question. Is there a Jessie Johnson on your list of paramedics waiting assignment?"
Hank waited patiently while Tom checked. He again flipped through Jessie's file.
"Yeah, I'm still here. Really?! She's not? Well yeah, Tom, I'll talk to her, but odds are if she's already turned it down she won't accept. Well thanks for checking."
He hung up the phone and closed the file. "Well Jessie, there has to be a reason you've demoted yourself."
Hank gave a long sigh while sorting through the large stack of paperwork. It was a necessary evil of being a captain and would inevitably get much worse when he became a chief.
"Lot of paperwork when you're a Chief, Hank." He stated mimicking McConikee.
E!
Mike Stoker softly shook his head while walking past Cap's office. Cap only talked to himself when stressed. He laughed to himself at Cap's impersonation of Chief McConikee. He found it strangely funny that Cap was still paranoid over something that happened so long ago. It was obvious that McConikee didn't hold a grudge over the burning of his hat. If anything he enjoyed teasing Cap about it.
Mike set the box of donuts on the table before starting a fresh pot of coffee. 'C' shift made some when they woke, but he found the guys enjoyed a fresh pot.
"Hey, Stoker, is it ok if I get outa here?"
He looked back to the door. "Yeah, Corbin, I've got it. Hey you did clean the glass, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, Stoker, I did." Corbin stated while waving his hand. "Have a good shift, all right?"
"Yeah, I'll try." Mike replied softly.
His thoughts turned back to his stressed Captain. They'd be receiving a new team member today, but Mike had an odd feeling this member was different.
"Hey, Mike, can I see you in my office for a moment."
Mike startled slightly at the sound of his captain's voice.
"Uh, sure, Cap. I will be right in."