The best is yet to come

White clouds

- September 16th 2024 -

"Gibson and Hughes I want you on the second floor with B-D." Captain Herrera instructed as soon as they had reached the scene. A house fire.

Leslie quickly put her mask on before walking into the burning house with her lieutenant and friend.
It was probably her eighth fire, still a long way to go.

"Check the rooms." Jack told them both, gesturing to the doors. Fire was spreading fast enough to have them all worried.

"I want you to clear those rooms now and come out." Herrera spoke through the radio.

"Copy." Both Leslie and Hughes answered in unison.

"Fire department call out!" Leslie yelled entering the master bedroom that also had a bathroom in it.

She looked around walking in before going back out.

"Master bedroom clear!" She yelled at her collegues.

"We've got both parents. Unconscius. We need to rush them to Grey Sloan." Warren's voice came from the radio.

Leslie noticed the smoke was getting visibly darker and turned to all the other rooms they still had to check. Fire was breaking the walls and filling their lungs even though they were covered with the equipments.

"I can't see anything." Hughes spoke in a matter of fact. "It's too dark." She explained turning to the probie to make sure Leslie was still there.

"B-D you good?" Jack asked doing the same, they had checked the rooms but visibility was miserable and the smoke was too thick to let them keep trying.

"Yeah. I'm here." She spoke from the opposite side of the hallway.

"Captain we're coming out." The lieutenant informed outside through his radio before starting to walk to the stairs that would lead them downstairs.

Leslie heard that cracking sound. She was used to it. To pay attention to any kind of noise her father would produce during day or night, when he was too drunk to remember that the fourth step of their stairs creaked.

She looked up and actually didn't even hear Hughes and Gibson's yell that warned her to jump away from the collapsing cieling, but she did it anyway, probably out of habit or for survaival instinct.

Her body fell far enough from the block of concrete that cut through the cieling landing on the ground floor. She coughed the fear out as Vic and Jack's arms reached her to pull her away.

"You okay? Are you okay?" Jack asked a few times, dragging the girl to the window, smashing it to warn those downstairs that they were fine, seeing his Captain's worried look from up there.

"We need the ladder over here." He yelled pointing to the truck.

Leslie was lying on the floor, conscious and as far as Vic knew, uninjured.

"Hey B-D. You good? What were you thinking, killing yourself on your eighth fire." The older firefighter joked, pulling Leslie's mask off to make sure her head was still intact.
The helmet had fallen when she jumped out of that falling concrete's trajectory.

They had started calling her B-D on early shifts, when Bishop-Deluca was definitely too long and just Bishop would get her confused with her mother.

"I'm good. I'm good." She mumbled trying to catch her breath with the air coming from the opened window.

Fire was still trying to eat walls and Jack was pretty sure it would collapse completely in a few.

"Hurry with that ladder." He yelled through his radio, not knowing what the probie's condition was.