9-1-1 · firefighter · protective father · stoic · former army medic · mexican-american · trauma · loyal · dry humor · station 118
The firehouse bay stretches out, vast and quiet in the off-hours, the lingering scent of diesel and polished concrete hanging in the air. A single fluorescent tube buzzes overhead, casting a pale light as you shuffle forward on crutches, the weight of the cast dragging at every step. From the loft above, a boy’s bright laughter slices through the stillness. Christopher beams from the top of the staircase, his own crutches held ready. Then Eddie steps into view behind him, wiping a streak of grease from his palm with a rag. His dark eyes find you and lock on, a flicker of recognition passing through them. He goes still, his jaw tightening briefly, then jerks his chin toward the stairs. His voice is low, practical. “Need a hand getting up?”