I feel along the wall, finding the hot spot and waving Captain Moore over. He nods in agreement with my assessment. "Let's get some wa-"

BOOM.

The thunderous explosion knocks both of us back, leaving my ears ringing.

"You okay?!" Roy hollers at me, but it barely registers. I'm dazed, dizzy, it hurts to breathe, hurts to move. But I'm not going to tell him that.

"Yeah, yeah." I answer slowly. "I'm okay."

I hear Roy radio for assistance, hear he and Dave talking, planning how they're going to get the unconscious captain down while the fire blazes around us.

I suddenly hear my name, and it slowly dawns on me that Roy's trying to get my attention. I can hear the concern in his voice, see it in his face, even as he tells me my part in the plan.

Again, Roy asks if I'm okay, again I nod. Captain Moore's worse off than I am, we've got to get him down one way or another. I'll manage, somehow.

Roy directs me to one of the elevators, and I pry open the doors, staring into the abyss below. I take a deep breath and carefully start making my way across to the railing. Everything's starting to go a little fuzzy, the pain with each breath making it harder to concentrate.

Not now. Stay sharp, I tell myself.

"Ready?!" Roy calls out, and I manage to answer. He tosses me the hose, and I loop it around myself as Roy and Dave prepare to take Captain Moore down.

It's a slow, painful process, getting those guys down. It's taking every ounce of strength I have not to pass out. I can pinpoint specific areas of pain now, the searing pain in my shoulder, the stabbing pain in my back, the dull throbbing pain in my temples and my ears.

Still, I keep going, letting down the hose and easing myself down the elevator cables, bit by bit, inch by inch. Finally, we reach the top of the stopped elevator, and I manage to cross over to the doors, helping Dave and Roy drag Captain Moore out of the elevator shaft and on to the floor.

"Now all we have to do is schlep him down fifteen flights of stairs." I try to sound casual, but in reality, I don't know how I'm going to make it down. Nausea is starting to kick in now that some of the adrenaline is starting to wear off.

Great. As if I didn't have enough problems right now.

Roy and Dave have Captain Moore between them, and I let them go ahead of me. With any luck, all of Roy's attention is focused on his job at hand, leaving him little time to worry about me.

I figure I'll manage, and if not, I'm sure someone will find me. I try not to think about the alternative.

It's slow going down all those stairs, and I have to pause more than a few times to catch my breath. Roy and Dave are getting further and further ahead of me, but I don't bother to try and get their attention. I'll let them take care of Captain Moore.

The smoke's still heavy in the stairwell, which isn't helping matters any. At some point, I lose track of Dave and Roy. I assume they're making their way out. I just need to stop for a moment, just for a moment.

The nausea's getting worse, and my head's really throbbing now. But I can't stop, not for long, otherwise I'll never make it out of here, and there's no telling how long it might be before someone finds me.

I shove the dark thought aside and keep going. I notice the number '5' on the stairwell. Not much further now, just a little more. A little more and I'll be outside.

Finally, I reach the ground floor, and I reach out for the door handle. Everything's spinning now, and I pause to try to steady myself before I open the door.

It's not working. The bile rises in my throat as the world spins around me, everything going fuzzy again, the pain and the exhaustion overwhelming me, and I sort of lean into the door as it opens, staggering out and into the open space.

I made it. I'm okay.

It's the last thought that passes through my head before my legs collapse under me and everything goes dark.

# # #

I open my eyes some time later, trying to orient myself to my surroundings. Hospital, from the smell of it, though I don't know how I ended up here. I remember the explosion. Everything after that is a blur.

My vision slowly clears, and as everything starts to come into focus, I can make out the shape at the end of my bed.

Of course, it's Roy. Who else would it be?

"Hey." I manage to get out. My throat's killing me, my mouth is dry.

Roy rounds the end of the bed and I hear the familiar sound of ice in a cup. I accept the ice chip he offers, letting it dissolve and soothe my throat. He offers another, and I take that, too, already feeling slightly better.

He sets the cup aside and pulls up a chair next to the bed. "You gave us one hell of a scare."

Bits and pieces of the incident are slowly coming back to me, though I'm having trouble putting it all together. "The captain okay?" I ask.

"He will be." Roy answers with a nod. "He's got a concussion and some cracked ribs. Got pretty lucky."

I shift around a little. I'm stiff from being in bed, but other than that, I don't feel much pain. Roy places a hand on my shoulder. "Quit moving around. You're on some heavy drugs. In case you were wondering why you're not feeling anything."

"Oh." I settle into the pillows, still trying to put together exactly what happened.

"Yeah, you got knocked around pretty good, too." Roy tells me, an edge creeping into his voice. "Okay, my ass."

I really don't want to get into this right now. "That bad, huh?"

"That bad." Roy replies sharply. "Concussion, separated shoulder, three busted ribs. Why the hell did you tell me you were okay when you weren't?"

"Why the hell did you believe me?" I answer with equal sharpness.

A silence falls between us until Roy finally answers. "You were alert and moving. Figured if you were in real trouble you'd say so."

More pieces of the incident come back to me. Feeling dizzy and nauseous on the elevator railing, the pain that shot through me with every move down the elevator cables. "Captain Moore was worse off. I managed."

Roy lets out a huff. "And what if you hadn't? There would have been four dead firefighters in that elevator shaft."

I turn my head and focus on Roy. "And if I hadn't been the anchor, there would have been four dead firefighters on the twenty-first floor."

Roy's eyes drop to the floor, his expression unreadable. "We lost track of you coming down those stairs, me and Dave. You were right behind us, and then you weren't. You don't know how relieved I was when you came out that door."

His eyes flick up and meet mine. "Don't you ever pull that again. When I ask if you're okay, you'd better not tell me you are when you aren't."

"Sure, Roy."

"I mean it." Roy's voice is more insistent now.

I already know what the result of this conversation is going to be, and he does, too. But if it makes him feel better, I guess I'll go along with it. "I will, Roy. Or won't. Whatever the, uh, situation calls for."

Roy seems to accept that for the time being, nodding. "When you're discharged, you're welcome to come stay at the house."

"I don't wanna impose."

Roy shrugs. "It's up to you. But you're going to be on some strong drugs for a while until your shoulder and ribs heal. And someone should keep an eye on you, what with that concussion and all."

I'm not going to win this argument, and I'm not sure I want to. "Fine, I'll come stay for a few days."

Roy smiles a little at that. "I'll let Joanne know you're coming."

"Okay." I'm starting to fade a little, though I don't really want Roy to leave just yet. "Think I might catch some sleep."

"Yeah, you look like you're fading." Roy replies, rising from the chair and gently placing a hand on my shoulder. "Glad you're going to be okay. Sure could have been a hell of a lot worse."

"Mm-hmm." My eyelids are already feeling heavy. "See ya, Roy."

"See you around, Johnny." Roy answers quietly.

I hear him leave the room, the door clicking shut behind him. I can't help but think about what he said, because I can't help but wonder the same.

It all could have gone wrong, and yet, somehow it didn't. Everything's okay, and we'll all live to fight another day. That's all that really matters, in the end.