Underneath the Armor

A Stranger in the Station

The hum of conversation and the clang of equipment being sorted echoed through the engine bay, but she barely registered it. Station 118 was like that: constant noise, constant movement, with each person orbiting the others in a rhythm only they seemed to understand. And in the middle of it all, there she was; just close enough to be part of the team but distant enough to keep her life locked away.

She adjusted her gear, double-checking her equipment with practiced precision. The others were talking about something—Buck's latest misadventure or maybe Eddie's son, Christopher. But she didn't join in. It was always easier to keep to herself, to focus on the job and stay out of the small, intimate conversations that made the station feel like home to everyone else.

She liked them all, of course. There was Bobby, the steady captain who seemed to have a read on everyone's emotions but had yet to crack her shell. Chimney, the joker, who had his own darkness but chose to hide it under layers of humor. Hen, wise and quick with advice, who'd tried more than once to pull her out of her quiet shell. And then there was Buck and Eddie, two personalities as different as night and day. She noticed the way their eyes would drift her way when they thought she wasn't looking, curious, maybe even a bit intrigued.

A part of her wanted to let them in, but another part—a larger part—was too afraid of what they might find.

"Hey!" Buck's voice jolted her out of her thoughts. He was grinning, looking both confident and a little unsure. "You ready for the next call? Could be a big one."

She smiled politely. "Always am."

Buck's smile faltered slightly, like he'd been hoping for something more. He lingered, hands on his hips, trying to think of something else to say. But then Eddie called him over, and he left with a nod, heading back to his friend. She could hear their voices, Buck laughing at something Eddie said. They moved through the station with an easy confidence, always looking out for each other, always somehow in sync.

A pang of longing tugged at her, unbidden. They were a family here—a real one. She admired their closeness but couldn't imagine being part of it, not with the weight she carried every day. She'd only joined Station 118 a year ago, and though she felt accepted, she was a stranger to them in ways they'd never understand.

And she planned to keep it that way.

—

The first call came mid-morning, interrupting the lazy warmth of the kitchen as she was finishing her coffee. It was an accident—car versus pedestrian, not far from the station. She moved with the team to the ambulance, pulling on her gear with the same efficiency as the others.

The drive was tense, the air thick with that pre-call intensity as they mentally prepared for what lay ahead. She could feel Buck's gaze on her as she reviewed the details in her head, but she pretended not to notice. He'd been trying to get to know her since she arrived, and part of her admired his persistence. But she wasn't ready for that—not yet.

They arrived at the scene to find a young man lying on the pavement, groaning, his leg bent at an unnatural angle. She immediately went into paramedic mode, stepping forward to assess the injury. She worked silently, methodically, feeling Eddie beside her as they prepared to stabilize the leg.

You got this?" Eddie asked, his voice low, as he looked over at her.

She nodded, the corners of her mouth curving just slightly. "Yeah. Thanks."

Eddie didn't press for more, but she caught a flicker of curiosity in his eyes before he turned back to his own work. His respect for boundaries was something she appreciated—he didn't push, just observed, like he knew there was more beneath the surface.

They worked in sync, shifting the injured man onto the stretcher as Buck coordinated the onlookers, keeping everyone calm. She caught Buck's eye, and he gave her a small, approving nod. There was no questioning her ability, no doubting her skills; in these moments, she was simply part of the team. That was all she needed.

—

Back at the station, the adrenaline of the call began to wear off, leaving her feeling the familiar exhaustion from another day balancing a hundred things in her mind. But the weight of the day never truly lifted. There was her mother, whose health was a constant source of worry, and her two kids, relying on her for everything. And behind it all, there was the shadow of her husband's absence, the grief she kept locked away, buried under her responsibilities.

The others were gathered around the kitchen, swapping stories and laughter as she quietly grabbed a bottle of water and made her way toward the locker room. She thought she'd made it unnoticed, but a voice called out just as she reached the doorway.

"Hey!" It was Buck again, smiling that charming, easy smile that seemed to come naturally to him. "We're ordering pizza later if you want to join. My treat."

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the water bottle. It would have been so easy to say yes, to sit down with them and feel—just for a moment—like she was part of something. But she shook her head, giving Buck a small, apologetic smile.

"Thanks, but I have a lot to take care of tonight."

Buck's face fell just a little, and she felt a pang of regret. But he didn't push, just nodded and went back to his conversation with Eddie, who gave her a quiet, understanding look.

As she walked away, she felt the weight of her own isolation settle over her like a familiar cloak. She told herself that keeping her distance was for the best, that she was protecting herself from the inevitable pain of letting people in. 

But it was starting to feel like she was missing something—something important.

Later, when she was finally alone, she allowed herself a moment to check her phone. There were missed texts from her mother's caregiver and a photo from her kids, both of them smiling up at her through the screen. She felt a wave of exhaustion crash over her, the weight of holding everything together pressing down on her chest.

A soft knock on the door startled her, and she quickly locked her phone, looking up to see Bobby

 standing there. He looked like he was about to say something but then stopped, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Just wanted to check in," he said, his voice quiet but sincere. "It's good to have you here, you know. The team wouldn't be the same without you."

She forced a smile, nodding, her heart beating a little faster. She knew he meant it, and she appreciated it, even if she couldn't bring herself to respond the way he probably hoped.

"Thanks," she whispered. "I'll... I'll keep that in mind."

And as he walked away, she realized that, maybe, letting people in wasn't as impossible as she'd always thought. Maybe—just maybe—there was still a place for her here, in this strange, messy family she was starting to care about more than she'd ever admit.