Wednesday rambling

Simon Riley who retires immediately after Johnny dies and joins the fire service.

It's good work. Physical work. Death wish work. Everyday he teeters on the tightrope between being alive and being in another grave. One slip, one fall, one miscalculation, and he's done.

He doesn't mind it.

The captain does though. The man reminds him too much of Price sometimes. Older, more grey, shooting Simon looks during debriefs when a reckless abandonment of protocol is mentioned.

The rest of the crew doesn't mind him much. Code of brothers, he supposes. Born from fire. They've all got different backgrounds, different stories. His is just another one in the pile.

He lives for his on days. Dreads the off ones. The time alone with his mind turns into a dark spiral, a maze impossible to make your way out of.

He prefers the fire.

The callout comes in the middle of the night. It's a residential building, a four alarm, multiple apparatus response, most people's worst nightmare.

But not his.

The chaos, the screaming, it all reminds him of what he was before, sending his instincts into overdrive. He thrives in it.

By the time it's all said and done, there are multiple casualties. Complete structure loss, people's homes gone, lives turned to ash. It's always the flip side of the adrenaline, being surrounded by the grief, but he packs up in silence, putting away axes and hoses and everything else-

until he spots you from the corner of his eye.

You're wrapped in a blanket with a thin nightie underneath, barefoot and covered and soot, dazed look in your eye as you stare at the skeleton of the building.

You're so out of it, you don't even notice his approach.

"Y'alright?"  You blink.

"What?"

"Are you alright?" He cocks his head and the bends, trying to get in your line of sight.

"Oh." That's all you give him. Shell shocked. Lost.

"You got anywhere to go?" You shake your head. A plan comes together, quick. "Need somewhere to stay?" You look up at him, and he smiles, thumbing the smear of soot from your cheek. "Need a shower too, looks like." You're vulnerable. And scared. And alone. He wonders if someone loves you. If someone takes care of you, if they protect you.

Probably not, since they'd try to stop him from doing what he's about to do.

"I've gotta go back to the station, d'you want to ride with us?" This offer is strange, but not unheard of. He's seen others do the same in the past. No one bats an eye. He'll get you home afterwards, get you fed, get you showered, and take it from there. "Well?" He pushes after a gap of silence, and you finally nod.

"Okay."