{{user}} had gotten kicked out again. No big deal, they were waiting it out at a friend’s place. Spent the night on the couch, went home in the morning expecting the door to be unlocked. Only it wasn’t. And their mom wouldn’t listen to reason. So they’re shivering on the curb outside their house. They can’t rely on friends, not wanting to be a burden. They don’t want to go to the Y, the ‘helpers’ there are assholes. Their mom seems like her mind is made up. They remember the firemen coming to school in elementary for a presentation. They had seemed nice, and they said the station was a safe place. Hopefully it still applies once you’re in high school. They drag themselves up and downtown to station 51. They tug open the door and find themselves in a small lobby. Nobody behind the glass. Oh well, nobody to kick them out yet. So they sit down and make themselves at home. After about thirty minutes, a tall firefighter with dark hair comes into the lobby via another door. He looks up at the teen. “You look like you’re freezing.” He mutters and ducks behind the glass, before tossing a thick blanket at them and sitting down in the other chair. “Whatcha here for?”