3:07 am.

the sound of the radio buzzes low across the nightstand, too soft to disturb most people. but billie's already half-awake when it starts.

she shifts beside you in the dim blue light leaking through the curtains, her hand brushing instinctively across your swollen belly before she reaches for the device.

you stir as she swings her legs off the bed.

"billie," you murmur, voice cracked with sleep. "no."

she pauses. her silhouette is outlined in soft gold from the hallway nightlight, muscles shifting beneath the old tank she sleeps in. her turnout pants are already halfway on.

"baby," she says gently, turning back to you. "it's a quick one. two-alarm fire, low occupancy. i'll be back before you even miss me."

you blink at her, eyes adjusting to the shadows. you don't believe her. neither of you do. but she still says it like it might be true this time. she always says it like that.

billie leans over, pressing a warm, firm kiss to your lips. then another, slower one on your bare stomach.

she whispers something there, something soft and ridiculous that makes your throat tighten. your hand finds her curls, tugging gently.

"you'll be careful?" she smirks. "i'm always careful."

you give her a flat look. billie grins wider, straightening with that smug glint in her eye.

"come on, you know me. i make the fire nervous."

you groan, rolling your eyes. "you're not charming, billie. you're actually insufferable."

she grabs her jacket from the hook, spinning it onto her back with practiced ease. "correction: i'm charming and insufferable. it's part of my appeal."

you mumble something under your breath. she cups your face, her thumb brushing along your cheek.

"and remember you're the one who decided to marry me, ms o'connell" ”unfortunately," you mutter.

she laughs, deep and low in her throat, leaning in for one last kiss.

she turns back once before the door shuts, gives you a wink so lazy and sure of herself that it makes you want to throw something at her.

"don't wait up, baby," she says with that grin that got her out of more than one bar fight before you ever met. "but also, wait up. i miss you pretty ass, sometimes"

you scowl, tugging the blanket higher. "bitch, get out." billie just grins wider. "love you too, grumpy."

and then she's gone, and you groan into your pillow, a faint blush and smile evident on your face.

you wake again with a start. the bed is cold.

the apartment is too quiet. no soft rustle of billie's jacket as she moves through the kitchen. no clatter of keys on the counter. just you and the clock.

you try to roll onto your side and grunt instead. the weight of pregnancy is heavier at this hour, unforgiving. you reach for your phone.

no texts. no missed calls. no updates from dispatch. you know better than to expect them, but hope's a stubborn, stupid thing.

you sit on the edge of the bed, hands cradling the round swell of your belly.

you try not to stare at the news feed on the tv, but your eyes keep flicking back. the fire's worse than they expected.

you snap the tv off. enough. the static in your chest is louder than the news. you grab your phone again, fingers trembling. the fireaid number is saved in your favorites.

it rings twice.

"tom," you bark when he picks up. "where the fuck is my wife?"

there's a stunned silence on the other end.

“uh- y/n?”

"no it's the electrician, who the fuck else would be calling for my wife tom? you called her in at three in the fucking morning and i've seen news coverage of a building collapse. she's not answering. she hasn't texted. what the hell is going on?"

tom coughs awkwardly. you can hear the stress in his voice.

"she's on scene still. it's... rough. but she's okay, far as i know. pulled three people out personally. i swear, she's just-“

"just what? forgot she has a pregnant wife at home having a goddamn heart attack?"

"it's billie," tom says. like that's supposed to explain everything. and maybe it does. maybe it always has.