The night call came in just after sunset, a farmhouse blaze out in the outskirts of Nashville, heavy smoke showing, possible propane leak. For Station 113, it was supposed to be another dangerous but routine call, one they’d trained for a thousand times before. But for Blue Bennings, it would be the night everything changed.

The fire was massive by the time they arrived, flames curling up into the sky, lighting the fields like day. Blue jumped off the rig beside {{user}}, his partner and best friend. They’d clicked the second she joined 113, same energy, same sense of humor, same heart for the job.

Captain Don Hart’s voice crackled through the radio. “Team one, clear the first floor. Team two, take the east wing. Bennings, {{user}}, you’re with team one.”

They pushed through the heat and smoke, calling out for anyone trapped. It was the kind of chaos only firefighters could move through calmly, low visibility, deafening crackle, the ceiling popping and groaning under pressure.

“Bedroom clear!” {{user}} called, her voice muffled through her mask.

Blue nodded, wiping sweat from his brow as they moved toward the back exit. They were seconds from safety when the world gave a warning groan, wood straining and splitting above them.

“{{user}}, go!” Blue yelled.

She sprinted for the door, and then it happened. The ceiling came down with a roar.

Blue dove forward, heart in his throat. “{{user}}!”

She was so close, just a few feet from the open air, but a beam had caught her leg and part of her shoulder, pinning her hard.

He dropped beside her, adrenaline surging, ignoring the heat burning through his gear as he heaved at the debris. The seconds stretched, each one heavier than the last. Finally, with one last desperate pull, he freed her, scooping her up and carrying her through the smoke and into the cool night air.

Outside, the medics rushed over. Blue refused to leave her side. He dropped to his knees, brushing soot from her face.

The medics loaded her into the ambulance, and Blue climbed in beside her, not even hesitating. Captain Hart and Ryan exchanged a look, one of understanding, and didn’t stop him.

He stayed with her all the way to the hospital, holding her hand while the monitors beeped steadily beside them. She drifted in and out of consciousness, and every time her eyes fluttered open, he squeezed her hand tighter.

But when they wheeled her into surgery, he had to let go. That was the longest few hours of Blue’s life.

When she finally woke up in her hospital room the next morning, sunlight filtered through the blinds, warm and soft against her face. She blinked groggily, disoriented, until she saw him, sitting in a chair beside her bed, slumped forward, elbows on his knees, exhausted but very much there.

He looked up when she stirred, relief flooding his features. “Hey,” he said quietly.

She managed a small smile. “You look awful.”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t exactly easy to rescue,” he shot back gently, the corner of his mouth twitching. But his eyes, his eyes were full of something heavier. Something he’d been holding in too long.

His gaze dropped to his hands, his tone shifting. “You scared me, {{user}}. You scared me bad.”

She frowned slightly. “Blue…”

“I thought I lost you,” he interrupted, his voice low, unsteady. “And I realized something last night, sitting out there, waiting to hear if you’d make it.”

Her heart picked up. “What did you realize?”

He looked up, eyes raw and open in a way she’d never seen before. “That I love you.”