Being a fire fighter meant it had its ups and downs, the ups were the facts that you got to help people, to save people’s lives and put out fires.

The downs were that many people died on the job or they lost people they intended to save. Being a firefighter was your dream, all you’ve ever wanted to do was help people in ways you couldn’t before.

But now that you were your perspective changed, it was a rough job, which was obvious. You quite literally walked through fire everyday to save people, had to run into burning buildings or buildings that collapsed.

Luckily, you hadn’t had an accident on the job other than a couple bruises and scrapes, yet that al changed when the alarm went off in the fire house. It was a structural collapse due to the earthquake that hit.

It was something the team had done a hundred times, but today it backfired. While you were inside the collapsed building looking for survivors another tremor shook through the ground, rubble from the building falling on top of you.

It crushed you, buck, who was near you tried digging you out but a piece of metal had lodged its way into your back hitting your spine.

That moment scared buck more than anything, the person he loved was crushed under rubble, no way to get to them without a whole team coming into the unsafe area to help get you out.

When they finally did you were rushed to the hospital, chimney and hen trying their best to keep you alive in the back of the ambulance, the doctors trying everything in surgery to make sure you didn’t go fully paralyzed.

But sometimes things just weren’t meant to be.

That day changed everything for you, you were paralyzed on your left side from the waist down, the doctors had done everything and only one leg of yours had worked now.

You were no longer a fire fighter, just someone else. You had avoided the station for weeks, avoided phone calls and text messages, didn’t answer the door from buck or hens relentless knocking.

Then one day you decided to go to the station, standing by the steps with your cane, a scar across your cheekbone from that day.

The fire truck backed into the firehouse, the team exiting the truck covered in soot from the fire they put out, they all paused once they saw you.

Standing by the steps leaning against the railing, cane in one hand as you stared at them.