[Two]
"Gus? Gus?" Brian's throat is sore from the smoke and the screaming. He cuts the pad of his foot open on a fallen branch but keeps running. He's gonna kill Gus if the kid isn't dead already.
Justin's beat-up little Toyota rattles along, crushing dirt under its wheels until it catches up with Brian and coasts alongside him as he jogs. Brian hears the window being rolled down when it groans in protest. "Brian? Get in. We'll find him. Come on and get in now." Brian ignores him and keeps moving. Justin's tone turns wheedling and desperate. "Brian, don't be stupid."
He looks up sharply from the glow of orange/red he had previously been trained on and then over at Justin, who's practically hanging out of the window. "Don't be stupid?"
"Get in."
Justin's softer. Brian notices red eyes and a crumpled tissue clenched in Justin's shaking right hand. His shoulders slump. He stops walking, wants to put his head between his knees when he does. "We're not going to find him." It is amazing he gets the words out through his labored panting.
"We are going to find him. Get in."
Brian crosses around the front of the truck and opens the passenger door. The old, ripped leather is cool against his thighs even through the robe. He sits back heavily against the seat and closes his eyes. Justin puts the truck in gear and rocks start crunching under the tires again.
"I called 911 at the house. Dispatch said there are already trucks here. It's, like, a wonder the sirens didn't wake us."
Brian opens his eyes and blearily stares down at his hands. Justin keeps prattling on about where Gus could be and how they're going to find him, no harm done. He doesn't even nod, knows he's worrying the fuck out of Justin but doesn't care. Eventually as they draw closer the flames nab Brian's attention, and he stares out the windshield in abject horror.
"Christ. That's all of the orchards. I bet our neighbors are going to be so pissed."
Brian doesn't give a shit about the neighbors. "It's not all of the orchards." His eyes catch a whole patch of trees just beyond the blaze, and even a few on the outskirts. "Looks like the fire is spread out." Or just in one central area.
Please let Gus be alive.
Brian does mental calculations about coffin sizes as Justin steers the truck out of the grassland and onto the road. The rolling red lights of fire engines hone them into relative safety. Justin parks next to one and shuts off the engine. Brian is out of the car before Justin's seatbelt is off.
Between strapping, bulky firemen there is a tiny, pajama-clad figure. The teddy bear it is clutching seals the deal. Justin nearly cries when he sees Brian's body forcibly heave with relief. "Gus!" Gus looks up at his father's shout and waits patiently for Brian to reach him, which is strange.
"Daddy." He's smiling, and Brian wraps his arms around him and drags Gus so close that the boy is probably choking on Brian's robe.
"Why the… why the fuck did you do that?" Brian has absolutely no qualms about swearing in front of his child. Luckily Gus seems to have been born moral, which makes for a nice change in the Kinney line. Brian kisses the top of Gus' head, then shakes him so hard Justin winces. "Oh Christ. Are you hurt?"
"I think God did it."
A beat. Justin can see Brian's face over Gus' shoulder and it's a mottled red. "Did what?" Brian asks slowly, and Justin wonders if he's pissed like he always is when God is mentioned, but his hands are shaking as he gently brushes grit off Gus' cheeks.
Gus smiles benignly at his father and points at the fire. Brian gives a slow start, almost a double take, and follows the direction of his son's pointing finger. He watches the firemen with their long, violently streaming hoses and beyond to the burning trees. Brian squints when something about the picture strikes him as being not quite right.
Gus wanders away from his father and comes to take Justin's hand. Justin looks down at the child and squeezes the little fist wrapped inside his own. He has to move the wadded tissue so Gus can hold onto him, and it falls to the ground unnoticed.
Brian has stood, and he's got the attention of a sweaty, middle-aged fireman. He asks something Justin can't hear and the guy nods, points out the path of the still-burning fire. Brian nods in turn and starts back towards Justin and Gus. The fireman follows Brian for a few steps and says, "the news station said that this is the twelfth one this hour."