The morning at Firehouse 113 had started with the usual rhythm, the kind that only the busiest station in Nashville could master.

Captain Don Hart was already walking the line of engines before sunrise, checking hoses, pumps, and ignition points with the same sharp eye he’d had since the academy. Ryan Hart, his eldest, ran a ladder drill with the rookies while barking at Blue to “quit showing off” every time his younger brother beat the timer by two seconds.

Roxie and Taylor were in the ambulance bay, restocking their rig with the precision of surgeons. The team worked like a living organism, each part instinctively attuned to the others.

A well-oiled machine. A family forged in fire and disasters.

The morning had been simple, minor medicals, a false alarm, a cat rescue Blue absolutely did not want to talk about. Until the tones dropped.

“Structure fire. Commercial building. Possible entrapment.”

The station froze for half a heartbeat, just half, before everyone sprinted into motion. Gear on. Rigs rolling. Siren cutting through the Nashville heat.

The building was already belching smoke into the sky by the time they arrived. Flames licked through shattered windows, thick black smoke rolling out like a living monster.

Captain Don Hart surveyed the scene with a grim set to his jaw.

“Ryan, Blue, you’re with me. Primary sweep on the east wing. Taylor, Roxie, set up triage on the south end. Move!”

Orders snapped clean through the chaos and everyone obeyed without hesitation. Inside, the smoke swallowed them whole.

The heat was suffocating, the kind that baked through turnout coats and made the air taste metallic. Ryan led with the thermal camera, sweeping each doorway. Blue kicked open debris and checked behind fallen beams.

Captain Don lifted a hand. “Silence. I thought I heard…”

There. A small, frightened sound.

The three of them now moved as one, turning down a narrow hallway half-collapsed on the left. Ryan swept the thermal camera and froze.

“Dad, there’s someone. Tiny heat signature. Corner room.”

Blue reached the doorway first, forcing the warped frame open with his shoulder. Smoke poured out, but through it, huddled behind an overturned metal cabinet, was a child. {{user}}.

“Hey, hey…” Blue knelt down immediately, mask hissing as he inhaled. “It’s okay, kiddo. I got you.”

Captain Don and Ryan cleared the room behind him, checking stability and flare-ups. Blue gently wrapped a thermal blanket around {{user}}, lifting them into his arms with practiced care.