Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Universal Studios and Mark VII productions do. This story is a tag for Season 4 Episode 6, "Surprise," by Preston Wood.

Ch. 2: Marco

I could smell the gas as soon as we turned the corner. It must have been a big leak – maybe the gas main going into the building – 'cause it was real thick.

Cap sent me to shut off the utilities. It was a really old building, so I wasn't even sure where to look. Luckily, the manager, Mr. Haley, was there, so he told me where to go. Surprisingly, for such an old place, there were modern shut-offs for the gas and electric. Looked like he really kept it up well. Too bad.

I was just starting to get out the ventilation fan when it happened. Gracias a Dios, I was still well away from the front entrance when that fireball came shooting out. We'll probably never know what touched off the explosion, but it was violent. I'd never seen such a fireball from a residential structure before, in all my ten years with the department.

The first thing I heard after my ears stopped ringing from the explosion was Captain Stanley shouting my name. "Marco, grab-and-go, NOW!"

All that could mean was that one of my brothers was still in there. It could only be Gage – Mike would be with the truck, and I'd just seen Chet and Roy duck behind a car with a stretcher. Chet? Why was Chet with Roy? No time to think. Just GO.

I masked up faster than I ever had, but not as fast as Cap. By the time I was ready, he already had more extrication tools than I thought one man could hold. I took half, and we ran in, under the cover of a fog pattern 60's were setting up at the entrance. I said Hail Marys silently as we started a standard search pattern.

I didn't think we would find him. I definitely didn't think we would find him so fast. But somebody up there must have been watching out for Gage, because there he was, in a heap at the bottom of the stairs – right in front of us in the lobby of the building. I nearly stepped on him.

Captain Stanley must have seen him at the same time as I did, because he went straight for Gage's head. Down the hall, away from the windows, I could see tongues of flame licking across the ceiling. We had to get out of there – fast. Cap knew it too – I couldn't hear what he was saying, but we both knew we had to move fast. Faster than fire.

No time to bundle him up nicely and carry him out in a Stokes. Grab and go is exactly what it sounds like. Cap had already grabbed Gage under the arms. I tried to get his legs, but something wasn't right there. No choice – life and death. Had to grab his legs anyhow, even though it felt all wrong. Maybe someday someone will put handles on turnouts so we don't have to figure out where to grab onto. I tried not to look. No time to think about what was going on with those legs anyhow. Too busy trying to get us out alive before the whole place flashed.

The first explosion was just the gas. We were all getting ready for the next one that we knew was coming soon. I expected to be thrown out of the building, not to run out through the fog. As we came out of the fog from 60's hoses, I could see Cap's jacket steaming. I could tell from the heat on my neck that I was steaming too. Didn't matter, though – had to get Johnny to safety.

We ran him over to Roy. As I set him down, I could see that he was out cold, but breathing. I was pretty sure he was still alive when I picked him up – I thought I felt him breathing, but I wasn't sure. Especially after Roy cut off Johnny's pants leg, I could also see how just bad his leg was.

Bad.

I could hear static in my ears, and could see my vision starting to close in, and feel my stomach starting to heave. Rather than fall down, I stripped off my steaming turnout coat and dropped to my knees and, well, luckily Mama always says that rhododendrons like a nice acid soil, cause me and my stomach weren't getting along.

Someone else was throwing up, or maybe trying not to throw up, in the next bush over. The helmet on the ground had a skunk stripe on it. Usually it's Stoker that pukes. I guess maybe he had a good reason to study extra hard to be an engineer. Lucky guy is still over there by the truck.

I heard my name: "Marco, biophone!" I got it, and set it down by DeSoto.

A hand grabbed my shoulder, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"It's bad, huh," Stoker said quietly.

"Yep," I replied.

"You were fast. Real fast. Never doubt that you saved his life."

I knew we had. But I also knew, that in order to be fast, we couldn't be careful. And if you're not careful with bad fractures, you can make them worse. I couldn't remember – if I even actually saw it in the first place – what his leg looked like before I grabbed him by it. Was the bone already through the skin, or did I do that? Was it already bent like there was an extra knee, or did I do that, in haste and carelessness? Could I have been more careful? Mea culpa. Logically, in my brain, I knew I had to grab him and go. But in my heart, I couldn't stop asking: Did I do this?

Johnny was coming around. Roy made us all hold him down. In penance for anything I had done to his bad leg, I took his good leg – the one with only one bend in it. Even the good leg was covered with blood – the pants leg soaked with sticky, warm syrup. Nobody else should have to be down here, so close to the leg that maybe I made worse. Saline and blood splashed my face as Roy rinsed the wound.

Roy's hands were shaking as he splinted Johnny's leg. I'd never seen his hands shake before when he was working on a patient. Sometimes I called him Steady Freddy, since he's always so calm. You'd have to be to work with Gage day in and day out.

Roy finally finished the splint job. Not that he took his time.

Even though Johnny had, mercifully, passed out again by the time Roy was done, Roy sat on the ground looking defeated and shaken, till Chet helped him up.

And I sat on the ground, looking at my hands, red with Johnny's blood. Mea maxima culpa.

TBC

A/N: Marco wanted handles. Now, he'd have them. The NFPA 1971 Standard on Protective Ensembles for Structural Fire Fighting, now (2007 edition) requires a DRD (drag rescue device) to be built into every new turnout coat.