Through the storm

Chapter 2

The evening settled into an uneasy calm after Leon’s near-drowning, though the tension in the air lingered. Leon lay on the sand, still catching his breath, supported by Dom and Letty. Mia hovered close, her brow knitted in concern. Vince had paced nervously until Leon came around, but now he stood in silence, trying to shake off the shock of what had just happened.

Brian sat a bit farther from the group, staring out at the now-peaceful waves. The rhythmic crash of the surf was a stark contrast to the chaos of a few moments before. His hands trembled slightly from the adrenaline, his mind replaying every moment of the rescue. He’d acted instinctively, as if it were second nature, but the weight of it all was beginning to settle in. His heart pounded in his chest, echoing a painful past he rarely confronted.

"Brian," Vince’s voice broke through the quiet. Arms crossed, he looked between Leon and Brian with a mix of curiosity and respect. "Where’d you learn all that? That wasn’t just basic first aid."

Brian frowned, running a hand through his hair as memories fought their way up. "I was a first responder," he said, voice subdued. "A doctor, actually. Back in 2021, I was working in New Orleans—my hometown—when Hurricane Ida made landfall."

Mia, sitting with Leon, looked up in surprise. "You never mentioned that," she murmured, eyes searching his face.

Brian shrugged, still staring at the ocean. "It’s not something I talk about."

Dom walked over and knelt beside him, his large frame casting a shadow across the sand. "You okay, bro?"

Brian let out a slow breath, finally turning his gaze from the water. "Yeah, I’m fine," he said, though the tremor in his voice hinted otherwise. "It’s just... water’s not my favorite place to be."

He felt everyone’s eyes on him now. Jesse had stopped fiddling with the radio, Vince was watching him intently, and even Leon managed a curious, grateful look.

Brian cleared his throat, as if forcing the words out. "I lived through Katrina," he said quietly. "It was 2005, and I was just a kid. The flooding, the destruction... you don’t forget something like that. People getting swept away, homes torn apart." He paused, his throat tightening. "You never forget that kind of helplessness."

The group fell silent. None of them had known. Brian had always seemed so in control, like he could handle anything. Now, they could see the cracks beneath the surface.

Dom placed a steadying hand on Brian’s shoulder. "That explains a lot, man," he said, his voice softened.

Brian nodded, looking down. It wasn’t just Katrina haunting him. His mind drifted to 2021, to Ida. Nothing had prepared him for what was to come.

"It didn’t stop there," he continued, his voice rough. "In 2021, Ida hit New Orleans again. By then, I was a first responder, trained and experienced. I thought I’d seen it all, but..." He clenched his fists, knuckles white. "It’s one thing to live through a storm as a kid, but it’s another to watch your city drown again when you’re supposed to be the one helping."

Mia scooted closer, her face pale with worry. "Brian..."

He shook his head, gently cutting her off. "I watched friends get swept away. People I grew up with, people I worked with... And I couldn’t stop it. All that training, all that experience, and it still wasn’t enough." His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Sometimes... the water’s just stronger."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. For the first time, his friends saw why Brian avoided the ocean, why he didn’t dive in like the rest of them. It wasn’t just fear; it was trauma, loss, and guilt from surviving when so many hadn’t.

Vince, usually the brash, tough one, was unusually quiet. He sat down beside Brian, his voice low but steady. "You did what you could, man. No one expects you to save everyone. You saved Leon today, didn’t you?"

Brian nodded, though the words offered little comfort. He had saved Leon, yes, but the ghosts of those he couldn’t save still lingered.

Dom squeezed his shoulder again. "You acted, Brian. That’s what matters. You’re here with us. We’re family, and none of us would be here without you."

The others nodded, gathering close in a quiet show of solidarity. Jesse, his usual upbeat nature subdued, offered Brian a half-smile. "You always got our backs, man. Today was proof of that."

Brian finally met their eyes, the tightness in his chest loosening. In their presence, he felt the weight lifting, knowing that they were there for him as much as he was for them. He wasn’t alone.

Mia reached out, gently touching his arm. "You’re not just a first responder to us, Brian. You’re family."

Brian gave a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Mia."

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the beach, they sat together in silence. The day had taken an unexpected turn, but in that moment, surrounded by the people who knew him best, Brian felt a little lighter.

They didn’t need him to be perfect or to save everyone. They just needed him to be there—and that, he could do.