Title: Finding yourself
Summary: Paramedics do everything at 60 mph: their jobs and their life. They spend their lives taking care of others, but who takes care of them? Can one paramedic save another or will their job take its toll on them?
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Saved. I do own Christine 'Chris' Morgan. But if she's real, my apologies, I don't own her. Please don't sue; I'm a poor high school girl.
A/N: I've only seen one episode of the show so far, so I'm basically making this up as I go along.
A/N: This is probably a little different than any part of the show. I don't care. When an idea pops into my head, I type it out on paper; sometimes the ideas give way to stories, and sometimes they don't. This is just an idea. It's not meant to be an episode of the show or anything. My apologies to those who I offend, but I don't care.
A/N: This is the last chapter, and I cannot say that I am proud of it in anyway. Honestly, I wrote this just so I could finish the story and wrap it up. I know it sucks, so please, refrain from telling me how much YOU the readers think it does.
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The next morning Wyatt and I thought it best to go to work separately, so we wouldn't raise suspicions. Neither of us was ashamed of last night in any way, but it's really against protocol to sleep with a co-worker.
"So, Wyatt, are you going to the poker game with me and Sack?"
"I can't go, Angie. I quit gambling."
"you? You quit gambling? Who is she?"
"Why is it that every time I'm happy I have to be with a woman?"
"Once again, who is she, Cole?"
"She's incredible, but I'm not going to tell you who it is."
I walk into the room as he finishes that statement.
"Hi Angie, Sack, Wyatt."
"Hello, Chris."
Wyatt says, smiling at me.
"Oh. My. God. I know who it is."
"Yeah? Who is it?"
"She just walked into the room."
I had heard this comment, and was trying to ignore it. Poor Wyatt's cheeks were turning as red as a fire engine.
"What? Ang, I am not with Chris."
"Hunny, you can try to downplay it as much as you want, but I see the way you look at her, the way you act when you're around her."
"How many people know?"
"Just me and Sack, and we're not planning on telling anyone anytime soon."
I sit down next to Wyatt, holding his hand under the table where no one can see anything. I haven't felt this way about anybody in a long, long time, so it was fun to actually be with somebody.
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Flashforward
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It's been three years since I moved to Portland, and life is drastically different. I married Wyatt about a year and half after we started dating, and I couldn't love him anymore. He's long since gotten over his gambling addiction, and spends his free time at home with his family: Me and his baby daughter, Emma. All of the same paramedics that I've worked with since the beginning still work at the same firehouse, getting along as good as always. So in the end, are we as human beings really looking for the perfect spouse, perfect house, perfect car, or perfect job? Or are we all really just looking for ourselves? I can honestly say that I have ended that life long search, and have found myself, in the arms of my friends and family.
