It was a residential fire in the suburbs. Two adults, and six children, all of them foster children. All were gotten out alive, but the children had suspicious looking injuries and bruises, and all were very thin, almost to the point of emaciation.
During overhaul, Cap heard Officer Vince Howard call out, "Someone get the Detective over here!"
Going over to investigate, what Cap saw sickened him. Boxes and boxes full of photos and movies, all of them making his stomach turn. Child pornography, the sickest thing Cap could think of. "Oh God" he murmured.
"Yeah, bastard was using his foster kids as 'models' " Vince stated. "Here's Detective Andrews now. Hey Bill." He said as an older, slender, grey-haired man came ambling up. "Hey, Vince, hey, Hank. What we got?" Peeking into the boxes that Vince carried, his normally peaceful face suddenly seemed to turn to stone. "Son of a bitch!" he muttered, "Kind of reminds you of the Westin case, don't it, you guys?"
"Uh, Bill, let's take this over by your car, okay?" Hank whispered, glancing over at his second in command, who was quietly manning the gauges. Bill's glance followed Hank's, seeing the tall, quiet man standing at the engine. Just then, Mike turned away, with the name 'Stoker' visible on his turnout coat. "Stoker" Detective Andrews became thoughtful, "You don't mean this is the same..."
"Yep, 20 some odd years ago." Hank answered as they walked over to the Detective's vehicle. "He used to have an occasional bad flashback, but between Dr. Kelly Brackett, myself, and the Department psychiatrist, he's been good these past years. Mostly Kel and me now, mainly to talk to."
"Poor guy. Wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. That bastard Westin did to him and his foster brothers and sisters what this S.O.B. did to these poor kids tonight. If Stoker hadn't escaped and somehow made the two miles to the precinct, Westin may never have been caught, and Stoker probably would never have survived."
Just at that point, another Detective was walking past Mike carrying boxes, when he tripped over a hose. The boxes fell, contents scattering at Mike's feet.
"Here, let me help..." Mike's voice trailed off, as his brain registered what his eyes were seeing. His face lost all color, and his hands started shaking. Looking up, Vince, Hank, and Bill Andrews came quickly over, Hank taking Mike over to the front of Big Red, while the others quickly helped pack up the scattered evidence and remove it from the area.
"Mike, you okay? You with me, pal?" Cap's deep baritone seemed to break through the ringing in Mike's ears, and pushed back the darkness that was threatening to encroach on his vision.
"Yeah, Cap. Better now. Gotta finish packing up." he answered somewhat shakily.
"Just stay here. The guys are almost done. I'm just gonna tell them you got a little too warm. Undo your coat and rest. Drink some water. Do NOT look towards the house. Got that?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
That evening, back at the station, Mike ate very little supper, telling the guys he had a bit of a headache. The Great Fire Chief In The Sky was merciful, and the whole station had absolutely no runs, a real rarity. The men all enjoyed a night of uninterrupted sleep, except for Cap, who woke at intervals to check on the well-being of his engineer and best friend. Mercifully, Mike appeared to sleep soundly.