desertion

81

LYDIA

I woke up feeling nauseous, my stomach twisting uncomfortably. I groaned, lifting a shaky hand to my forehead and pressing it to my skin. It felt warm-too warm. A shiver ran down my spine as I forced myself to sit up, my head pounding relentlessly.

I glanced around the loft area. The fire truck was gone, and so was everyone else. That meant they were out on a call. I was alone.

Pushing myself for my feet, I stumbled toward the kitchen, my legs weak and unsteady beneath me. I opened one cabinet, then another, rummaging through them in hopes of finding some medicine. But every shelf was empty of something remotely helpful.

Frustrated, I sighed and turned to the dish cabinet, grabbing a cup. Filling it with water from the sink, I took small, measured sips. The cool liquid felt good against my dry throat, but it did nothing to ease my headache.

The pounding only grew worse. I leaned against the counter for a moment, then slowly lowered myself to the floor. I didn't have the energy to make it back to the couch or even the bunks. The hard, cold kitchen floor wasn't comfortable, but it would have to do.

My eyelids grew heavier with each passing second, my body sinking into the floor. I didn't even have the strength to investigate if anyone was here. Normally, I'd be curious and cautious, but right now, I didn't care.

I didn't feel like doing anything at all.

********

BUCK

The call had been long but straightforward, and our team returned to the station tired but in good spirits. Bobby headed upstairs to start making lunch, and I followed, figured I'd help out.

As we reached the kitchen, Bobby suddenly stopped, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. I stepped around him and froze at the sight before me-Lydia was lying on the kitchen floor, sound asleep.

Bobby chuckled softly. "Well, that's not something you see everyday."

He crouched beside her and tapped her shoulder gently a few times.

After a moment, she stirred, her eyes fluttering open halfway. She blinked up at Bobby, her expression groggy and confused.

I crouched down, waving at her to get her attention. She turned her head toward me, squinting. I pointed toward the bunks, silently suggesting she move somewhere more comfortable.

Lydia gave a small nod, her movements sluggish. Without hesitation, I scooped her up into my arms, cradling her in bridal style. She felt warm-too warm-and my concern deepened as I carried her toward the bunks.

I laid her down gently, tucking the blanket around her.

"Thank you," she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

Before I could respond, she had already drifted back to sleep, her soft snores filling the room.

I knelt beside her for a moment, placing a hand on her forehead again. It was still warm-definitely a fever. With a sigh, I stood and walked out of the bunk room, heading back to the kitchen.

Hen and Eddie were sitting at the island when I returned.

"Did you get Sleeping Beauty back to bed?" Hen asked with a small smile.

"Yeah," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "But she felt warm."

Hen tilted her head thoughtfully. "It's not uncommon to run a fever with a concussion. Her body's probably still adjusting."

Her body has had more than enough time to adjust. Right?

I frowned, glancing at the glass of water on the counter that Lydia had left behind. It was nearly empty.

"She might've tried to drink some water and just ran out of energy," Hen continued. "In the end, she went to bed on the floor."

I exhaled heavily, my worry not easing. I looked over at Bobby, who was busy chopping vegetables.

Bobby paused, setting the knife down. "We'll check on her when she wakes up. For right now, let her rest," he said reassuringly.

I nodded, though the concern didn't leave my face. I sank into the chair beside Eddie, glancing at him. Eddie's expression mirrored my own, the worry for Lydia evident in his eyes.

We sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of our shared concern filled the room. Lydia was strong-but she wasn't invincible-and that thought alone was enough to keep us both on edge.