The Night Shift One-Shots

The Fire {Part 4} - REQUESTED [FINALE!]

So, the finale of the chapter requested by -storywritter- . I know this had been a long one, and not really a 'one-shot' but I hope you've enjoyed it. I'm still very much open to taking requests, so let me know. 

Enjoy

Elliott

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"Tee? TC is that you?" Came Rick's low rumble from a few metres in front of him.

"Rick, yeah it's me. I've got Brianna."

"Dad!" The girl yelled, swiping the oxygen tank from TC, putting it over her own shoulder, then running to Rick, who sat up and hugged her tightly as she fell into his lap.

"I'm OK, baby. I'm OK." He reassured her, rubbing her back. "I'm perfectly fine, I just don't have a leg right now. Where's Drew?" He asked, still holding Brianna, but looking to TC.

"He's on his way to University Hospital. I'd say second and third degree burns and smoke inhalation. He's gonna be fine, maybe some scarring, but I told him I would get you two to him."

"I can drive." Rick replied. "I've got an automatic, I only need one leg to drive."

"Ok, go as soon as you can, you know what he's like. Keep Bri on the oxygen, it'll clear the smoke and help her breathe, but otherwise, I discharge you both from the scene."

"Thanks man, can you give me a hand? The truck's just there." Rick asked, pointing to the familiar pickup just across the parking lot.

Once Rick and Brianna had left the scene, TC's personality changed to Dr Callahan, and he was suddenly a different man.

He treated one man with minor burns, sluicing them, dressing them, giving him some pain meds then discharging him. Then a girl – one of Nina's care kids – who was barely older than three. She'd come to the ER with a sprained wrist and was leaving with life changing burns to her face and neck; she'd been diverted to University hospital.

"No-one's gonna want to adopt her now, not with the scarring that's gonna be left with those burns." Nina sighed, running a worried hand down her face.

"I wouldn't say that, Nina. Try Rick and Drew, and if that's a no go, let us know. I'll talk to Jordan, but it should be ok, if all else fails, we have one on the way anyways." TC offered, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks TC. That means a lot. She's been through too much, and I feel like being with veterans is probably the best place for her; you've seen it all, so her scarring and nightmares won't be new to you I guess?" TC shook his head, his face confused. How much can a kid go through before they can even walk? He wondered; apparently his face conveyed this message. "Abusive parents, two foster homes that neglected her, then attacked by two dogs six months ago. She's had it really rough." Nina finished, climbing into the ambulance with her. "I'll let you know, TC. I hope it works out for her." The doors shut and TC was left stunned.

He turned around to see the fire mostly out – he'd been so distracted by his job that he hadn't noticed anything else around him going on. There were very few casualties left on the lot, only staff – and the dead. The thing that bothered him was the small group of ER staff, Landry, Paul and Krista, gathered around one of the dead. He approached them gently and placed a hand on Landry's shoulder.

"Landry, what's happened?" He asked, pulling her into a hug the second she turned to him, in floods of tears. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Over her shoulder, TC could see Michael Ragosa's body, burned just beyond recognition. The only sign to it being him was the singed birthday card in his pocket, from his daughter. Earlier that night he'd been showing it to them all.

They stood in silence for a while, until Landry pulled away. "Jordan wants you." She whispered, not looking at him. He turned to see Jordan, still sat on the floor, waving at him.

"I'm so sorry, Landry. Call me if you need me – promise me you will." He urged, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"I promise you I'll call if I need you. Now go find Jordan!" He ran passed Kenny, sat on the floor not far from Jordan, his right arm in a sling, the left cupping his shoulder. Broken collarbone TC thought, though he didn't stop until he got to Jordan.

"Tee, can we go now?" She was half crying again. "I want to go home."

"Of course, c'mon. The field's pretty much clear now, just staff a-and the de-dead." He stuttered. There was a sudden cracking from the building, and the entrance collapsed. The cracking sound, however, was too close to the sound of gunfire for TC. He felt himself begin to zone out.

"Nuh-uh. TC Callahan you stay with me." Jordan snapped, tapping his face, keeping him in the moment. "There we go, stay with me honey. I know what that sounded like, but we're in San Antonio, and no-one is firing at you, OK?" He took a moment to breathe, then nodded.

"C'mon babe, let's go home." He picked Jordan up bridal-style and took her back to the car. They left the scene in silence, both trying to take in what had just happened.

They had no jobs.

They had no workplace.

They'd lost friends.

Some friend's had injuries they may never recover fully from.

The only thing they still had, the only speck on continuity they had to hold onto, was that small being growing inside Jordan.

"- her Niamh." She suddenly said, snapping TC from his thoughts; he missed the first part of the sentence.

"Hmm?" He questioned.

"Can we call her Niamh?" She repeated.

"I like that. I like that a lot. Niamh Callahan. Middle names?"

"You chose." She answered shortly. TC could tell she was getting tired now, exhausted after the night's events.

"Niamh Emily Callahan."