The sun was dipping low over Chicago, painting the streets in streaks of orange and gold when the call came in, a car fire behind a residential property on the South Side. Engine 51, Truck 81, Squad 3, and Ambulance 61 were all dispatched.

Jack Damon rode in the back of the rig, helmet balanced on his knee, as the wail of sirens cut through the evening air. Calls like this were routine, at least, that’s what they all thought.

When they arrived, the smoke was already rising in thick, gray plumes from behind the house. It wasn’t a big blaze, but the flames were eating through the old car fast. Severide took command immediately. “Cruz, Gallo, {{user}}, grab a line and hit it from the driver’s side. Mouch, Ritter, check the gas line for leaks. Let’s move!”

The team fell into rhythm like a well-oiled machine. Water hissed as it hit metal. The heat radiated off the car, and within minutes, the fire was under control. But then came the real problem.

The owner, a man in his late 40s, angry and wild-eyed, stormed out from the back door of the house. “What the hell are you doing to my car?!” he shouted. “You’re ruining it!”

Severide turned, his tone calm but firm. “Sir, you called it in yourself. The vehicle was on fire…”

“I didn’t call nobody!” the man barked, his voice cracking with fury. “You people always ruin everything!”

Before Severide could respond, {{user}} stepped forward, keeping their voice steady, soft. “Hey, sir, we’re just here to help. The car was dangerous to leave burning. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Jack watched from a few feet away, hose still in hand, the steam rising around them. He’d seen {{user}} de-escalate plenty of scenes before, they had a way with people, a patience most firefighters didn’t.

But this man was different. Something in his eyes said he wasn’t just angry, he was snapping.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” the man yelled, stepping closer to {{user}}.

“Sir please just calm down. We’re not here to hurt you…”

And then it happened. The man shoved {{user}}, hard.

“Hey!” Jack shouted, dropping the hose, sprinting forward.

But the shove had already sent {{user}} stumbling backward, off the curb, into the street.

At that same moment, a delivery van came barreling down the road, its driver oblivious to what was happening. The squeal of tires tore through the air.

“{{user}}!” Severide roared, sprinting forward.

Jack’s heart dropped into his stomach. Time slowed, the screech, the flash of headlights, the thud.

The van clipped {{user}} hard enough to send them tumbling onto the asphalt, rolling once before coming to rest motionless.

For a heartbeat, no one moved. The world went silent except for the fading hiss of steam from the car.

“MEDIC!” Jack’s voice cracked as he ran. He was the first to reach {{user}}, dropping to his knees beside them. “Hey, hey, {{user}}, look at me. Come on.”