This is really short. It takes place in 9x24, Perfect Storm, when Jackson saves the kid in the bus fire. Please review.
We are all screaming, we are all crying, we are all yelling. My feet are moving but I don't feel it. I sprint towards the fire, rain lashing against me. Callie and Hunt yell after me, and I hear their voices, their feet running, but it is Matthew who catches me. He grabs me and pulls me away. Tears roll down my cheeks as I struggle.
The fire roars and there's an earth shattering sound. The force knocks us to the ground.
"Jackson! JACKSON!"
The fire is a good thirty feet away, and the heat burns my skin. The smoke strains my lungs, the orange glare impossible to see through.
Behind me I hear Hunt yelling, but it sounds dim in my ears. Callie sounds shocked as she tries to stop me. Matthew's footsteps echo behind me, and he shouts at me to calm down. The hysterical mother is crying. Combined with the sounds of the flames cracking and hissing, it makes for a terrible symphony.
He's in there. He's in the fire. He's dying right now.
I am a doctor. A trauma doctor. I know the statistics. On average, two thousand six hundred and forty people die every year in the United States from fires, excluding firefighters. If I'm out in the field, or if I were a paramedic, I shouldn't remove any smoldered clothing caused by burns as severe as a fire like this would cause. I would put in a chest tube if someone like this came into the ER.
But Jackson... There can't be anything left of Jackson. It's impossible. Nothing salvageable. He's gone.
"NO! NO!"
My voice is hoarse and the thunder rumbles around and the fire is close but I need him, I need him here. And I would run into the fire in an instant if it would bring him back, but I know it won't, it won't.
My best friend, the person I want, the person I need, is gone.
The rain falls heavier and heavier and seconds pass as I stare into the remains of the bus. Tears blur my vision, and I think I'm hallucinating, I must be hallucinating, because a dark shape moves in the smoke.
I let out a strangled wail. I can't hear Callie or Hunt or Matthew or the mother behind me anymore. I can't hear anything.
And then he steps into view, his head bowed against the rain and heat and smoke, his strong arms holding a little girl. She is crying. He is strong.
I step back, sobbing. Matthew puts his arms around me, pulling me in, farther away from the danger, but it doesn't help. The only person I want is Jackson.
He is safe now. That is all I need.