The sound of the second hand ticking on the clock is the only noise to be heard in the darkened room.

Walsh tossed and turned in his queen size bed. The white sheets and blue comforter wrapped around him.

There were flames all around him and he could hear screams. He stood with his axe held down to his side, searching around. Desperately he turned every direction looking at the flames. He couldn't find a way out. He began to panic. His breathing became faster and faster. The clicking of each breath through his regulator became steady then faster as his breathing increased. He could feel the sweat rolling down his face. It burnt his eyes. The flames were closing in on him. The heat was starting to get to him. He had to get out, but there was nowhere to go. He was trapped. His skin began to burn, he screamed

Walsh sat straight up in bed. His gray FDNY t-shirt was soaked with sweat. He moved to the edge of his bed and put his feet on the floor. He grabbed his sweat pants and pulled them on. He stood up and walked out to the kitchen. It was 3 AM and he was wide-awake. He started a pot of coffee and turned on the lights in the spare room. It was as good a time as any to repair the busted pipe.

He saw the red and white lights of a fire engine pass by his house.

"Wonder where they're going." He thought to himself.

He grabbed a wrench and started to loosen the bolt holding the pipe together. It sheared off.

"Shit!" he said

He lowered himself to the floor in defeat. There was no way he could do this now without help. It would be Saturday before he could get back around to it. He looked out the window into the night. There was a light snow falling.

He got back up off of the floor and decided to attempt to go back to sleep. He slipped his sweats back off and crawled back under the covers. He looked at his alarm clock 3:58 is what time it read. He took a deep breath and then closed his eyes again.

"Somebody help me!" He cried

The flames were getting closer and closer. His feet were beginning to burn. He crumpled with intense pain as the rest of his body was covered in flames. He screamed out loud a few more times before the room grew dark.

He sat up again and tried to catch his breath. There was no way he could go back to sleep now. It was nearly 6 AM and so he got out of bed and went into the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror for a little while before he finally got his toothbrush out. He got a towel out and warmed up the shower while he shaved.

He climbed into the shower and just let the warm water hit his face. It felt good. He turned off the shower and wrapped the towel around his waste. He walked back to the bedroom and pulled out his uniform- a pair of black boots, navy blue pants, and his navy blue FDNY button up shirt. He dressed and went into the kitchen where he made some toast and a pot of coffee.

He sat and watched the news for a bit. Watched the weather report, which called for 4-6 inches of snow, and the sports. He got his coat and his bag and went out to his car. He had to clean 2 inches of snow off of it before he could leave. He headed down the road and made the turn onto Arthur. He pulled into his usual parking space.

He walked into the station where DK was already sitting at the kitchen table drinking some coffee and eating a coffee cake. Lombardo and Jimmy were in the weight room. Lt. Johnson was in his office and Tommy Doyle sat in the recliner watching a movie.

He walked up to the bunkroom and worked on cleaning up his locker. They had to clean them out once a week, and now was as good a time as any to do it. He straightened up the shelf where he kept his bath and shaving supplies. He refolded his spare uniform and his t- shirts. He hung his jacket up and moved his boots.

He made up his bunk and then went downstairs to rejoin the rest of the squad. He sat down in the lounge and stared at the television.

"You alright?" Tommy asked

"Yeah, didn't sleep real well last night." Walsh admitted

"Take a nap." Tommy suggested

"I'm not sure I can get back to sleep." Walsh smiled

He didn't have time to before the alarm sounded.

"Squad 55 respond for an overturned truck Amsterdam and 109"

"Well so much for that idea." Walsh said as he stood up and got out of the recliner.

They pulled on scene to find an overturned pickup truck. There was fuel leaking on the snow- covered street.

"Walsh get the absorbent and get that leak cleaned up." Lt. Johnson instructed

DK and Jimmy were walking around the truck looking at it. The driver was standing nearby, uninjured. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

"Sir, don't light that." Jimmy instructed

Lt. Johnson had walked back towards the truck.

DK had taken his haligan bar back to the truck and Walsh was still spreading the absorbent. The man ignored Jimmy and lit his cigarette, tossing the match on the ground.

"Billy!" Jimmy yelled as the flames moved towards the truck

It seemed like slow motion as Lt. Johnson, DK, Lombardo, and Tommy all turned and watched in horror.

A bright flash was followed by a loud explosion. Pieces of the truck fell down around the squad.

"Lt 5-5 to central, I need a bus on a rush to my location." Lt. Johnson radioed as he and the rest of his squad rushed to get to Walsh.

Walsh was screaming on the ground. Jimmy was the first to reach him. He looked around quickly. Walsh had a piece of metal sticking out of his abdomen

"Oh God Billy." Jimmy says as he tries to hold him down

Walsh fought Jimmy and tried to sit up. It was obvious that he was in shock and was trying to move.

"Billy, just lay still." Lt. Johnson said

"It hurts. It hurts." Walsh was crying out

"I know, I know. But you gotta listen to me. Just lay still." Lt. Johnson said

"It hurts." Walsh kept repeating.

Each time he said it he got a little quieter.

"Billy keep talking to us." Lt. Johnson tried to get the young firefighter to stay awake, "Don't close your eyes."

Tommy put a blanket over Walsh. He was laying on a cold and snow-covered street.

They could hear the sirens of the medic unit getting closer. It seemed like forever until they were visible.

Walsh was fighting to keep his eyes open. He had stopped talking. His eyes were moving about rapidly.

The medics rush over with a backboard and their bags.

"Walsh, how ya doin' buddy?" The one medic asks

They carefully begin to backboard him and secure the metal. Any movement of the piece could kill him. They recognized this.

Soon they were off and on their way to the hospital. Pulling into the ER of Mercy. They rush him in the doors.

"28 year old male penetrating abdominal trauma." The medic pointed out the obvious as he rattled off the stats.

The ER staff took over care and the medics left the room. Soon enough he was being wheeled up to surgery. The guys filed into the ER and were directed to the surgical waiting area.

It took 4 hours before they had any word on their colleague. They waited around impatiently. Finally, the surgeon came out.

"How is he?" Lt. Johnson asked

"There was a lot of damage. He had an artery that was severed and he had significant damage to his spleen and we had to remove it. But he should make a full recovery. He just won't be fighting fires anytime soon." The surgeon said

Walsh was in a recovery room. He was hooked up to a ventilator that constantly clicked. He had wires going everywhere. His IV pole held two bags on it, 1000 mL of saline and a 250 mL bag of medicine. He was sleeping and the nurse walked in to check the monitors, and then walked back out.

The Squad returned to the house. They were satisfied in knowing that he would be okay. It was a freak accident, a terrible freak accident that could have been prevented. They moped around the house.

"Don't worry, he'll be alright." Lt. Johnson said as he got a cup of coffee and went back into his office.

He took a long breath and leaned back in his chair. After a moment he leaned back forward and began doing the paperwork.