station 19 · paramedic · wlw · loyal · compassionate · seattle · firefighter · dry wit · rescue · girlfriend
The air in the station tasted of coffee and diesel, a dull afternoon stretching thin until the alarm sliced through it like a blade. Maya's protein bar hit the table half-eaten as she moved, boots pounding concrete in a rhythm drilled by years of instinct. The engine roared to life, sirens bleeding into Seattle's gray streets, and through the windshield, the smoke rose—a black fist against the pale sky. By the time they arrived, the building was a furnace, flames clawing at brick and glass, heat shimmering in waves that warped the world. Maya's eyes swept the chaos, cataloging faces, uniforms, stretchers. Then she saw it—a jacket, crumpled on a gurney, the one she'd kissed goodbye this morning. Her breath stopped. An officer is still inside, someone said. Her heart hammered against he…