Dream A Little Dream [BOBBY NASH]

Dream A Little Dream

He could tell something was wrong immediately. That distinctive acrid smell in the air that he'd become so used to smelling throughout his time as a firefighter that puts him into full alert within seconds. His nostrils were burning, eyes itchy when he finally pry's them open. The house is dark for merely seconds until there's a blinding eruption of orange flooding his senses. His eyes quickly snap shut in response merely for a few seconds before flying open again, a searing cloud of heat washing over him.

Shit!

Now he's awake.

He sat up so quickly that his decades old back injury sent a sharp twinge of pain through his nerves, feeling it every corner of his skin — his fingers curling against the sofa as he quickly sat himself up. His eyes were searching wildly. In front of him at the back of the home, a wild mixture of orange and yellow flames roared mercilessly at the walls, threatening to engulf everything it's path.

Without his turnout's protecting him, the heat is almost unbearable — a quick sheet of sweat forming on top of his skin; beads trickling down his forehead. He squints, overcome by sheer fear and disorientation — how did this happen? When did this happen?

"Bobby!"

He jumps out of his skin at the shrill tone of the voice, head snapping towards his and Athena's bedroom. He was on the sofa, where he must've drifted off. Within seconds he's scrambling to his feet. There's a million things going through his mind at once, one being why the smoke alarms aren't blaring — but he doesn't have much time to think about it. He doesn't have time to think that the fact his home is quickly getting engulfed in flames. He sprints towards their bedroom, quickly drowned by a thick cloud of black smoke that stung his eyes — using his arm to cover his mouth.

"'Thena!" He yells louder than he's ever yelled before, coming out more like a croak.

Despite knowing the layout to their home by heart, trying to find the bedroom door feels like he's stuck in a maze with no way out.

His hands are pressed against the walls using them to guide him until his hands eventually come into contact with the wooden door he'd been desperately searching for. His palms retract immediately, the door hot to touch. That's never a good sign.

"Athena!" He chokes, throat already feeling hoarse from the thick smoke.

Sweat drips down his face and every second he's spending in there feels like he's being baked alive but he doesn't stop. He turns to his side, bracing his shoulder and with a quick breath rams himself into the door. Once, twice, three times — but it doesn't open.

"Athena!" He calls out again in desperation, feeling as though he's swallowed glass — a lump forming in his throat. His eyes are burning, blinking rapidly to try and clear his vision. The tears that threatened to spill from them quickly drying up from the heat.

He quickly steps back from the door and wastes no time kicking his leg out against it. He's kicking with all his might, a searing pain shooting up his leg and spreading across his back — gritting his teeth. He could've sworn he felt something inside him crack, but he keeps kicking mercilessly.

The hallway he's in is now filled with smoke, erupting a coughing fit from Bobby's lungs as he continued his task; a faint orange glow illumining his surroundings along the base of the walls that's growing larger by the second.

"Bobby, help!"

He freezes.

This time it wasn't Athena's voice.

It was May's.

"Bobby!"

Then Harry's.

He feels a shiver run through his veins, head whipping around towards the front door of the home where May and Harry's bedrooms are — he hadn't even thought of them being there. He couldn't even remember them being there in the first place.