October 2013
Gabby had been back in the United States for a month when she started at Firehouse 51. She woke up that first day at 4 in the morning, getting into her routine. First, she went for a two mile run around her neighborhood, arriving back at her apartment twenty minutes later. Afterwards, she showered, dressed, and ate a quick breakfast of an apple, banana, and coffee. She'd usually watch the news, but today was different. She packed her overnight bag: shampoo, conditioner, soap, comb, towel, extra socks, extra uniform, street clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, floss. Once that was done, all she had to do was walk to work. Antonio had found her an apartment less than a mile from Station 51.
When she left, she double checked the doors were locked. It was a habit she'd picked up long before she went to Iraq, before joining the army. Antonio taught it to her, their little secret. Locking a door wasn't really a secret to anybody, but to them it was because of their circumstances. She shook those thoughts from her mind, walking out of her building and into the street. The past month had given her time to readjust, and it had definitely helped. She could walk out and hear the sounds of the city and not be terrified anymore. She could get in a car - even though she prefered not to - and not feel like she was about to die at any moment. Occasionally, she'd hear gunshots. Those were what sent her reeling back into combat, but she always came out of it with one phone call to Antonio who'd come over and watch a movie or have pizza and help her through those memories.
She made her way down the road, seeing her new second home in the distance. A camaro was parked on the street in front of a seemingly beat down pickup truck. She smiled as she neared, smiled as she opened the door and walked onto the apparatus floor.
"You must be, Gabriella," she heard someone say from the doorway leading into the main hall of the station. She looked over, seeing a young man barely older than herself with dark hair and almost grey eyes.
"Yeah," she said, head nodding upwards slightly. "Gabby, or Dawson," she said, hating her full name. Walking over, she could tell he was a nice guy.
"I'm Lieutenant Severide - Squad 3. You can call me Kelly, or Sev," he responded holding his hand out towards her. She took it firmly, giving it a slight shake. "Chief Boden wants to meet you. I'll show you to his office." She nodded, following Severide, hearing laughter coming from the kitchen. The twists and turns brought them to the bullpen where Boden's office was located at the back.
"Chief," Severide said, knocking on the doorframe. "Dawson's here." Boden nodded motioning for them to come in as he finished typing an email.
"Welcome," he then said, standing to shake the girl's hand. "I've heard a lot about you from your brother." She smiled, knowing that was something Antonio would do - talk her up to be someone she really wasn't, setting high standards and expectations.
"Thanks, Chief. For agreeing to let me work here after getting back," she replied, still smiling. "Sometimes, people think PTSD or wanting to be with our families means we want desk jobs."
"It's the least I could do," Boden told her. "Go ahead and get a locker. Severide will show you around a little bit. Truck's lieutenant is running late, so you'll meet him later. So, just get to know the place and the people. And if you have any problems, let me know." Gabby nodded before walking out of the office and back into the bullpen. She had a feeling that this was going to be a good fit, that she would love this job.
"I'll find my way," she told Severide as he shut Boden's door. He just nodded, leaving her to find her way around. It wasn't like it was going to be difficult. A firehouse wasn't a maze that would entrap her, it was a building with a few rooms that served as a second home, just like the barracks had. She hoped the solitude would set her mind at ease, the nerves building.
Within a few minutes, she'd found the locker room and showers. She picked the locker to the right of Severide's hoping that maybe it would enable a possible friendship. Packing her stuff into the locker was the easy part, setting up pictures like everyone else not so much. She had a picture of her and her old partner - Vivian Williams - and one of her of her and Antonio. Her family was never one to take pictures unless it was a formal occasion, which left her with very few pictures of her parents. She shut the locker on those thoughts, making her way back to the common room and sitting at the table.
"Hey guys," Severide called out to the men and the one woman, "this is Gabby Dawson. She's our new PIC on 61. Introduce yourselves and be kind. She's not used to the crazy yet," he finished with a laugh, sitting next to the blonde woman, arm wrapped around her shoulders.
"I'm Leslie Shay," the blonde said, "your partner on ambo." Gabby nodded, not up for chit chat. She just wanted to take it easy. She heard the door leading inside from the apparatus floor open and shut, not seeing who it was, not caring who it was. The transition was harder than she thought it would be. She just wasn't used to a normal life, not after 2 years of her life being controlled in every aspect.
"Ambulance 61, Squad 3, Truck 81, Engine 51, Battalion 25. Structure fire, Ogden and Cermak," the automated voice said after the tones dropped. Gabby got up with everyone else, getting into their respective vehicles and heading out. Out of habit, she automatically got in the passenger seat, a year of knowing driving was dangerous, especially if you were the first one to leave - which ambo was on this call. She sat next to Shay, a woman she barely knew, and expected Shay to get her there and back in one piece - something she barely trusted Antonio to do most days.
"So, what's your story?" Shay asked her, taking a sip from the McDonald's cup next to her without taking her eyes off the road. Gabby shrugged, knowing Shay wouldn't see it but not really knowing what to say.
"Got back from Iraq a little over a month ago. Before that, I was an EMT in Detroit. Joined after learning they'd pay for school, but all I wanted to do was save people so I became a paramedic before getting deployed a year ago. What about you?" she asked the other woman. In the distance she could see plumes of smoke coming from a storefront.
"Didn't know what else to do with my life, so I did what I thought would be easy. Damn, was I wrong about the easy part, but fell in love with it," Shay responded, parking the truck three-hundred feet from the scene. The rig had barely stopped when Gabby hopped out, walking around to the back and getting the stretcher out. As she was doing so, 81 and Squad rolled up.
"Severide, you guys check the basement. Otis and Cruz, vent the roof. Herrmann and Mills, you're gonna be with me to sweep the place." Everyone responded in their own ways. She didn't know who it was who was talking, but the voice sounded familiar.
"Was that 81's lieutenant?" she asked Shay. The voice sounded so familiar, but no face or name came to mind. But she knew she'd heard hundreds of voices in Iraq and even more in training, let alone before that.
"Yeah, and he's one hell of a hottie," she replied, gently elbowing Gabby in the ribs. "And if I wasn't hella gay, I'd want to tap that." Gabby chuckled, feeling as if she'd known this woman her entire life. They were joking, laughing.
Gabby stood there with Shay and Boden, waiting for the men to come out of the building safe. She'd never been in this situation before, playing a waiting game like this. She was used to being in the front-lines, not letting someone take what could be considered glory. The glory of saving those serving. Glancing around, she met eyes with Boden - receiving a reassuring nod. When she looked back at the building, she saw the men come out. First, Severide and Cap, then Mills and Herrmann with whom she presumed to be Truck's lieutenant hung from there shoulders head hung and very limp.
Shay was the first to take action, rushing over to them with the gurney. Gabby found it in her to follow seconds later. She took off the jacket as Herrmann explained what happened, "We were doing a primary search and a beam came down." Taking the trauma shears, she cut through the clothing, seeing scrapes and bruising along his torso.
"C-collar him," she told Shay, sliding her hands under his body to check for bleeding or any major injuries on his back. She didn't feel any. "Let's get him in the rig. Herrmann, you're going to be driving. He nodded as she and Shay got the man into the back, getting in themselves after the gurney was secured.
Shay started attaching the leads to his chest, getting his rhythm visible as Gabby did a head-to-toe assessment - but backwards as to not disrupt Shay's process of the leads and an IV. She noted no abnormalities of the lower extremities other than a few lacerations and bruises - she did take notice of the bruise on the lateral left thigh. The abdomen showed no signs of injuries, nor did the chest or arms. The neck was fine, and then she got to the head and face.
"Oh my god," she said to herself, looking over at Shay. Shay looked at the man then back up to Gabby, not understanding. There were lacerations on the face, a bruise across the right cheekbone, and he most likely had a head injury, but nothing that would make the phrase needed.
"What?" she asked Gabby, still not understanding.
"He's alive."