Rain still clung to the air, slicking the streets as Firehouse 113’s trucks came to a stop on the shoulder of a two-lane road outside Nashville. The flashing red and blue lights painted the twisted wreckage below in violent bursts of color. A black SUV sat mangled across the asphalt, steam curling up from the hood, its driver pacing in fury nearby, unharmed but shouting into the night.
Captain Don Hart was already out of the truck, voice steady and firm as always. “Ryan, take Roxie and get the paramedic kit ready. Take Taylor, check the SUV driver, make sure he’s not hiding a head injury. Blue, you’re with me.”
Blue Bennings’ heart pounded as he grabbed his gear, his boots squelching in the mud. But when his eyes followed Don’s flashlight beam down the slope to the ditch, everything inside him went cold.
The other vehicle, a small car, was flipped onto its roof halfway down the embankment, glass glittering like ice around it. And through the shattered windshield, Blue caught sight of the driver.
“God,” he whispered under his breath. “That’s… that’s {{user}}.”
Don turned sharply. “You know them?”
Blue nodded once, voice tight. “Yeah. I do.”
Without another word, Blue descended the slope, mud sliding beneath his boots. His flashlight cut through the dark, the beam landing on the overturned car. “{{user}}! Can you hear me?”
A faint groan answered him. Relief hit like a wave, but it was short-lived. {{user}} was slumped against the seat belt, blood on their forehead, glass across their arm. The airbag had deployed but didn’t do enough. Their chest rose and fell unevenly.
“Hey, hey, it’s Blue,” he said quickly, crouching by the driver’s side. “I’m right here, okay? You’re gonna be fine.” He swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay calm. “You hang on. We’re gonna get you out.”
He tried the door, it wouldn’t budge. The window was rolled all the way up, spiderwebbed with cracks. “Damn it,” he muttered, motioning toward the road. “I need the spreaders down here!”
Above him, Ryan’s voice echoed through the storm. “On it!”
Blue leaned close again. “Don’t move, {{user}}. Just stay still, alright?” His chest tightened. “You’re doing great, just keep breathing for me.”
The seconds dragged as the others brought the tools down. Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance, thunder booming right after.
“Roxie, I need vitals the second we get her clear,” Blue called.
“Copy that,” she shouted back.
Ryan knelt beside him, handing over the spreader. “You got this?”
Blue didn’t even look up. “I’ve got it.”
With one hand steadying the frame, he worked the tool under the crumpled door and started prying. Metal screamed as it gave way, inch by inch. Then, finally, the latch popped.
Blue tossed the spreader aside and carefully pulled the door open.
“Okay, {{user}},” he murmured. “We’re almost there.” He unbuckled the seatbelt, catching them before they could slip. Their head fell against his shoulder, weak, breath shallow.
“Stay with me,” he whispered fiercely. “You hear me? I’m not letting you go.”
As soon as {{user}} was laid down, Roxie went to work, checking their vitals, her face focused but tight with concern.
Blue stood there, rain dripping from his helmet, his hands shaking. He’d seen countless wrecks, countless victims, but seeing someone he knew, someone he cared about, torn up like this, it tore through every layer of calm he’d ever built.
Blue climbed in beside {{user}}. He took their hand gently, his voice low but firm. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise.” And as the ambulance pulled away into the storm, Blue Bennings knew, this call was one he’d never forget.