Work Text:
Tommy’s radio buzzed loudly. ‘Firefighter Kinard? Do you copy?’
‘Copy,’ he answered perfunctorily, concentrating on dropping water accurately from crow’s height.
‘Kinard, firefighter Buckley has been rushed to Mercy General.’
Tommy’s vision tunnelled as he banked his craft dangerously leeward. He felt glass inside his chest as he responded, ‘Copy that. Sitrep?’
‘Buckley’s lungs are filled with mud. You’re relieved from duty for tonight.’ A pause stretched out infinitely before the voice said, less professionally, ‘Dispatch says to get down here now, Kinard.’
Tommy didn’t need to be told twice. By the time he arrived at the hospital, Evan was already out of surgery, but still intubated. Tommy kissed Evan’s forehead and whispered, ‘You better wake up, babe.’