Page 44 of Burn Protocol

By the time we reach the stairs, my breathing is shallow and I am swallowing to keep the tears at bay. The climb up drains me of any energy I’ve left, and when we emerge, the sweat is gushing everywhere. I don’t even wait until we are at a decent distance before I rip my helmet off and suck in the fresh air. I blink a few times, before my vision comes back into focus. The Battalion Chief is striding over, his steps long and angry. Not right now.

“Gonzales,” his voice booms over the square.

I tilt my chin, but can’t hide the way my body shakes. He gives me a once-over and his face softens immediately.

“You stupid girl,” he whispers, before he turns his head to the side. “Medic!”

Before I can say or do anything, I’m escorted to a stretcher. I am too tired to fight it, too drained to push back. My body trembles when they lay me down, and I have to squeeze my eyes closed to prevent the hot tears from falling.

“El?”

Maya’s voice cuts through all the noise inside my head. I slowly lift my head, and when my eyes flutter open to find hers, a piece of me feels calmer. She moves up next to me immediately, her eyes searching for answers I cannot give her. Not yet. But she seems to understand. She grabs my hand and squeezes softly, stroking my damp hair out of my face with the other.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” she whispers. Words I whispered to her only days ago. How the tables have turned.

My hand hangs in the air for a brief moment, as I hesitate to knock. The Chief sent Elena straight home, right after we returned to the station. He was already briefed on her relentless endeavors to save all the people on the train, and on her injuries. There had been something in his eyes. A glint of worry, a fatherly compassion. It had been brief and was replaced almost immediately with a stern scowl that made me shiver from acute anxiety. After a lecture about how firefighters are supposed to keep themselves safe first before helping others, he had placed his hand on her shoulder and looked deep into her eyes. The order for her to go home was undeniable, and even though Elena’s shoulders had sagged, she had not fought it.

I offered to take her home, but she shrugged it off, saying she was fine and that it wouldn’t make sense since both of our cars were here to begin with. That was hard to argue with, so I just stood there as she limped away. But even before she had driven off, I felt my blood stir.

My stomach clenched uncomfortably, as her taillights disappeared from view. It had taken me exactly three hours and forty-two minutes before I decided to go to her apartment.

Nobody should be alone when they feel like that. Especially not Elena.

I run my hand through my hair and then smooth out my shirt. I bite my lip and close my eyes briefly, before inhaling for four seconds. Hold. And then exhale for four again. I move my hand before I can stop myself and knock on the door. Three times in rapid succession. Hard enough to be heard, but not so hard it’s overwhelming. There is some shuffling on the other side of the door, but it remains closed. I rest my palm and forehead against it, knowing what Elena is doing.

“El,” I say with my lips close to the door, my breath heavy behind my ribs. “I know you are there. Please let me in.”

My plea is soft and my voice almost breaks on the last few words. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to swallow. She shuffles again, closer to the door now.

“Go away, Maya.”

Her voice sounds strained, lacking its usual poise and certainty. The thin sound is almost enough to make my heart break, and I gasp for air.

“Elena, please.”

I almost lose my footing as the door is yanked open and she stands there in front of me—eyes blazing with frustration, exhaustion, and something else I can’t quite place. I stumble to keep myself upright, as she lets her gaze drop down over my body.

“What do you want?”

She recoils so quickly when I reach out my hand, that for a moment I fear that I’ve hurt her. I withdraw it and stare at her, frozen on the spot and uncertain of what to say.

Elena frowns and tilts her head. The negative energy coiling around her like dark waves in the depths of an ice-cold ocean—its tentacle fingers reaching out to scorch and burn all those who dare to come too close. Don’t you see, Maya, she thinks she has to go through this alone.

“Carter, what are you doing here?” She snaps again, her voice clipped.

“I just want to be here for you, Elena. I can’t bear the thought of you being alone right now. Please let me stay? We don’t have to talk or anything. I’ll happily sit at your kitchen table and keep my mouth shut, but I really can’t…”

“Keep your mouth shut like you do now?” She deadpans. Her eyes are dark and slightly squinted. If she could stare daggers at me, she would have. But why? Earlier she seemed to want my touch, my presence. When the EMTs were working on her, she had begged me not to leave, and so I stayed. What changed?

“El,” I whisper, unable to keep the despair from my voice.

I see the muscles in her jaw roll as she keeps her gaze pinned on me. Her nostrils flare just before she tilts her chin, and I can feel the blow even before she delivers the punch.

“I’m in no mood to be an inspiration for your article, Carter. Leave me alone,” her voice drips with disdain.

Elena stills for a moment, almost as if she shocked herself, but then tilts her chin again and narrows her eyes at me. It feels like a rubber band snaps inside my stomach so violently that I gasp for air. My bottom lip trembles and I can’t help but frown at her words. Is that what she thinks this is? Some ploy to get an inside scoop on how firefighters deal with days like today? I shudder and shake my head, opening my mouth to protest.

“I wasn’t… I’m not here to…”