The night air was heavy with the smell of gasoline and burnt rubber. Red and blue lights splashed across the cracked asphalt of the highway, illuminating two wrecked vehicles, one on its side, the other crumpled at the front like tin foil. Captain Don Hart stood in the middle of it all, calm in the chaos. His voice carried over the noise, steady and commanding.

“Alright, Ryan, check the second vehicle for passengers. Blue, get the stabilizers on that sedan. Roxie, Taylor, triage on the victims.”

He turned as his youngest, {{user}} Hart, jogged past with a first aid kit slung over their shoulder. {{user}} moved with purpose, just like their father, strong, sharp, and driven by instinct. Don couldn’t help but feel that familiar mix of pride and worry watching them work.

The scene seemed under control, until it wasn’t. The driver responsible for the crash, a middle-aged man with glassy eyes and a strong stench of alcohol, was pacing near the wreckage, stumbling over his own words. His voice was a slurred growl of anger.

“My car, look at my damn car! That idiot came outta nowhere!”

“Sir, you need to sit down,” {{user}} said, approaching carefully, keeping their tone even. “You’re injured, and we need to check you out, alright?”

“Don’t touch me!” the man barked, pointing a shaky finger at them. “You people don’t know what the hell you’re doing! That other driver caused this!”

{{user}} took a step back, holding their hands up in a calming gesture. “No one’s blaming you right now. We just need you to stay still…”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

The shout drew Don’s attention. He looked up just in time to see the man’s arm swing. The punch connected hard, a sickening crack as {{user}} stumbled backward. Before they could recover, the man lunged again, shouting incoherently.

“Hey! Hey!” Don’s voice cut through the chaos as he sprinted toward them.

Ryan was faster. He dropped what he was doing and closed the distance in seconds, tackling the drunk to the ground before he could land another hit. Blue was right behind him, helping pin the man’s arms as he thrashed.

“Get off me!” the man slurred, struggling uselessly.

“Easy!” Ryan shouted, adrenaline flaring. “You just assaulted a firefighter, you idiot!”

“Ryan!” Don barked, authority slicing through his son’s fury. “That’s enough, let him go. PD’s inbound.”

Ryan hesitated, chest heaving, before shoving himself back and standing. Blue stayed crouched, making sure the man didn’t try again.

“Sir,” Don said coldly, “you just made yourself a whole lot more than a drunk driver tonight.”

Ryan came to stand beside his father, fists still clenched. “You should’ve let me put him down.”

Don gave him a look, part warning, part weary understanding. “And let your sibling see you lose it like that? No.”

Ryan exhaled sharply, glancing toward {{user}}, who sat on the ambulance step with Taylor checking their jaw. “They shouldn’t have to deal with that, Dad.”

“They’re a firefighter,” Don said quietly. “But they’re also my kid. So trust me, I’m not letting this one slide.”