FRIENDLY FIRE: A 9-1-1 fanfiction

Part Eleven: All the Versions of Therapy

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EMMA

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The next morning was tough, way tougher than is should have been.

After Eddie and Christopher left, I ended up spending hours going through my box, looking at the same things over and over again, re-reading the same letter until once I again I could recite it from memory... calling the same number over and over again. In the end, I only got into bed as the sun was rising and even then, my eyes refused to close so I just watched the sun come up through my window, trying to force my mind into complete silence.

Eventually, I gave up, moving to the next best cure: a freezing cold shower followed by as many litres of coffee as I could physically consume. A few years ago, not sleeping for days wouldn't have done anything to me but now I felt like a sledgehammer had fallen on top of my head.

I also chose not to take my car, figuring that falling asleep at the wheel would not be ideal so instead, I spent twenty-five minutes dragging my feet into work. Overall, it wasn't the best experience.

I knew my own guilt was the only thing to blame but I couldn't force it away either and the spirals were intense. A whole book series worth of potential scenarios had forced their way into my brain overnight and I'd turned into a skittish, exhausted wreck in one go. I couldn't stop thinking about what could have happened if my gun had still been in the box, or if Ajay or Chris had seen the incident photos; every time I thought about it, my heart seized up and I had to stop to catch my breath.

I hadn't even realised the point I'd made it to the station as I walked around like a confused zombie on the loose, bumping into many corners of things that were in the right place but would end up being blamed anyway.

"Good morning," Bobby's soft greeting make me suck in a sharp breath, turning on my heels to look at him. He was smiling politely, a clipboard in his hands, probably for inspecting the fire trucks. "I heard the crew helped you settle in last night; I did warn you we're a pushy bunch."

I blinked owlishly, trying to process what he was saying as best as I could, "Oh. Yeah, they came round."

"Are you alright? You look a little pale," Bobby lowered his clipboard, taking a few steps closer,

"I'm fine, just need to get dressed and have some coffee," I yawned unintentionally, turning my face to the side as I did.

"Emma," Bobby offered me a small smile,

"Yes, Sir," I sniffed as I tried to straighten myself out without aggravating my entire body.

"You're already in uniform."

"What?" I stared at him for a moment before looking down at myself in confusion. He was right. I was in uniform. "Oh."

"Tell you what," Bobby set his clipboard down beside one of the trucks, "I just bought a new blend of coffee, we could try it together and get some breakfast in us while we're there. Is that okay with you?"

I tried to figure out why his behaviour had taken such a turn but eventually, I succumbed to my fate, letting him lead me up to steps to the kitchen area where I could collapse in one of the bar stools.

"This is a Colombian expresso blend," Bobby explained as he fiddled around with the coffee machine, "it really helps on the twenty-four hour calls so hopefully, it'll help you too."

I nodded absent-mindedly, bending my head down to rest against my clasped fists as the machine whirled loudly, the sound roaring through my ears three times as loudly. I used that as an excuse to reach inside my ear and switch off my hearing aid, relishing in the dulled noise.