Los Angeles – 10:42 a.m. Fire Call: Commercial Structure – Bank Building, Downtown

Flames licked the windows three floors above the street. Black smoke billowed out like warning signs to the sky. Sirens screamed from every direction as Ladder 118 and the rest of the units pulled up to the curb.

“Structure fire. Reports of people still inside on the second and third floors,” Bobby called, reading from dispatch. “Bank employees. It’s spreading fast.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened, eyes scanning the building’s facade like something was clawing at the back of his brain. He didn’t know why, but his stomach dropped.

Until he saw the sign. Palisade Trust.

Your bank.

You.

And just like that, the world narrowed to a single burning building.

He was already moving before Bobby finished giving assignments.

“Eddie—Diaz!” Bobby shouted, but Hen grabbed his shoulder. “Let him go.”

The stairwell was full of smoke by the time Eddie breached the side entrance. His mask was strapped tight, heart hammering. He climbed through the haze, shouting through the comms, searching, praying he wasn’t too late.

Second floor. South hallway.

“{{user}}!” he yelled, voice rough even through the gear. “{{user}}!”

A faint sound. A cough. Then your voice.

“In here! Conference room!”

He kicked through the half-jammed door to find you crouched low, arm shielding your face, your other hand holding onto a colleague—Jules, he thought. Another two huddled behind you, terrified, their clothes blackened by soot.

His eyes met yours.

Panic. Relief. Guilt. Everything hit you at once.

“I told them to stay low,” you said between gasps, struggling to talk. “We couldn’t find the way out. Something—collapsed near the stairwell.”

“Okay. Okay.” He moved fast, helping one of your coworkers first, then gestured to Jules. “Follow the hallway and keep left. 118’s coming through that way now.”

You nodded. But you didn’t move.

“You next,” Eddie said, reaching for you.

You shook your head, voice breaking. “I can’t leave if they don’t—”

“Babe, I got them. I got them,” he said more firmly, stepping closer. “Now let me get you out of here.”

The word babe hit harder than it should’ve, given that less than twelve hours ago, you’d been yelling at each other across your apartment.

You’d told him you were tired of him shutting down. That it wasn’t fair to love someone who kept a wall up even after months together. He’d snapped back that you didn’t understand what it was like to carry what he carried, and you’d walked out on him.

You thought maybe he’d let you go.

But now?

Now he was here. In the fire. For you.

And you were frozen.

“{{user}}.” His hand found yours, firm and grounding. “I’m not leaving without you.”

Something inside you cracked. The fear, the smoke, the stubbornness — it all gave way to trust. You nodded.

“Okay.”

The smoke was thicker now. The fire closer. He guided you low through the corridor, shielding you with his own body as the ceiling groaned above. Heat pressed in on every side.

“Almost there!” Buck’s voice echoed down the hallway.

Eddie handed you off the moment they made it back to the street. You coughed hard, supported by Hen as paramedics swarmed around.

He pulled off his mask and helmet, out of breath, soaked in sweat, but eyes locked on you.