A/N: This was another fic that popped into my head. I wasn't planning on uploading it but then I did. So here.
Beca had been walking home from work. Nothing new considering her car was unreliable as fuck. It had been getting dark, the streets were thinning out, and fewer people frequented the same walks she did as time went on. It wasn't anything special or out of the ordinary.
That is, until Beca finds herself covered in blood and surrounded by fire.
It all happened to fast. One minute the streets were practically deserted and the next, a cab driver smashes head on into a delivery truck. The sounds of screeching tires and screaming horns only lasted for maybe a second before the devastating blow. It was so loud, so chaotic and downright terrifying. Beca had only been ten feet away when it happened- shrapnel cut at her arms and across her face but she didn't even notice.
Beca had no idea what to do. Sure, she could call the police but they were too far away to be of immediate help. What if someone needed to get out of there ASAP? What if the cars exploded from leaking gas and fire or something? The former Bella had seen enough movies to know how lethal that could be.
As she stood frozen in indecision, a smell began to linger in the air. Beca's eyes widened. Gas.
Without another thought she jolted forward and checked the delivery truck first. It was closer and not as damaged. The person inside was trying to get out but they were screaming. Something about a belt, of fucking course. "It's okay! I'm helping!" Beca tried, climbing onto the stepper and gripping the handle of the truck's driver side door. It swung open after a few stubborn tugs, creaking in complaint.
"My belt- I can't get my fucking belt undone!" the delivery guy squeaked. He couldn't be older than twenty or heavier than one-forty.
Thanking any higher power or luck or whatever, Beca found her knife in her back pocket. She never left home without it. Self-defense was pretty necessary in the city after all, and her jeans could deal with it. "Aha! Just a second!" the brunette assured the boy, and surprisingly he stopped struggling against the belt in order to let her grab at it. His trust in her- a stranger- in such a situation bolstered her confidence and will to succeed.
Seconds of cutting later a snap sounded and the top part of the locked up belt slid away. Not long after the bottom belt trapping the younger man's waist was severed. Both of them jumped out of the truck and away. But there was still the cab.
Beca whipped around, smelling the gas a lot easier now. It was leaking bad. She wasn't sure if it would result in a certain explosion but she wasn't going to wait around to see it. None of it was as cool as it was in the movies or the shows. Here in real life it was a real threat, and a terrifying one.
"I got the cabbie!" the boy called without hesitation. Beca hadn't expected the help, but she was certainly grateful. She wasn't sure if she could save everyone in the time limit she was giving herself.
Without a word Beca went to the passenger side and ripped open the back door. A head of silky-looking blonde hair was hanging down limply, showing the owner of said head was unconscious. Whatever the lady hit her head with it had to be pretty solid. Beca didn't take the time to examine the backseat for causes, figuring it had been the glass divider or something. Instead she went at the woman's belt.
The former Bella went after the top first again, and had to jolt forward to catch the woman from falling forward. She didn't want to move her more than she had to. As she was working on the waist belt, ignoring how the lady's face was buried in her neck from the angle, the boy was pulling the cabbie out. The man's body was limp and heavy, showing he too was unconscious.
The second Beca had the waist part of the belt sliced clean she folded her knife back up and shoved it into her back pocket. Without hesitation she wrapped her arms around the woman's ribs and started pulling her out of the cab. "Holy shit!" she strained, realizing only just then how much of the woman there was. She wasn't ridiculous like basketball players were, but for a woman she was tall. Five-eight without heels, she absently thought.
Luckily the woman wasn't as heavy as she seemed. Or maybe Beca's stints at the gym for the past few months had paid off. Either way she was able to drag the lady all the way to the sidewalk behind a parked car, gorgeous cinnamon apple- smelling hair included. Seconds later the boy joined her behind the car with the cabbie in tow. He was breathing a little heavily but for someone just in a crash he was doing awesome.
"Police." He suddenly huffed breathlessly. "I'll call right now."
While he pulled out his phone, Beca looked down at the woman still lying in her arms. Seeing her face now, she realized something that brought horror to her. "Kommissar."