No lemon yet. I'm workin on gettin there.. sorry, no shower scene yet either. That's in the next chapter.
Title: Inferno's Touch ~ Chapter 2
Author: Ravynfyre
Archive: GW Addiction, Darkflame
Category: Action, Dark Humor (read firemen humor), a Tint Touch of Gore (and I don't mean Al)
Pairings: None (yet)
Standard Disclaimer: Not mine. Theirs. Too bad, but otherwise, I guess I'd never get anything done >nice hentai thought<. Anyway, not makin' any money offa this so dun sue me. You'd only get some college debt, a few dogs, and a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers anyway.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None really
Spoiler: None
Notes: Footnote at the end for all the terminology. Sorry for some of it, but much of it is just plain old second nature.
Feedback: Yes, please. All comments welcome (although flames may be fed to my dogs, who, since they have notoriously gassy intestinal tracts, will be spending the night with the flamer afterwards) PLEASE C&C ME! I WILL beg. Shamelessly at that. In fact, I already am.
The quick rush of air blowing past his face signaled a breath drawn too deeply, sucked in too quickly, to Heero. He hated the feel of the Scott masks. It wasnt like breathing from a SCUBA regulator at all, where you would simply draw a breath like normal. With the Scott masks, there was a tiny resistance at the beginning of each breath. Just a little hitch, nothing more, as the positive pressure valve opened. And then the air was blown through the regulator, into the mask. The air wasn't simply there for use, it was forced into use.
On one hand, that rush of air helped to try and keep him cool, like sticking his head out a car window on a hot summer's day. On the other hand, it robbed him of his feeling of control. It was as if the regulator was breathing for him, and he had no power over his own respirations. He hated that sensation. If there was one thing he would never allow to happen again, it was to allow anyone, or anything to take charge of his life.
As he crawled forward, one hand on the hose, and the other searching along the floor, he could feel it building within him. The fear. The excitement. The rush.
He could sense the fear running though his veins, triggering his body's reflexes. He wasn't afraid. That wasn't the source of the fear. It was the pure physiological reaction to the sudden rise in ambient temperature, and the inability to see more than six inches in front of him. It was knowing that somewhere, up ahead of them in the darkness, soot, and gloom, there was a raging beast, devouring the very walls around them, eating the floor beneath their knees, dissolving the supports to the ceiling over their heads. Unseen in the darkness, coiled a demon eager to suck the marrow from their bones, and rip the souls from their flesh. His body responded to that knowledge, pumping him with adrenaline, increasing his heart rate, and speeding up his breaths.
He spared a second to consciously force himself to slow his breathing. The sound of the air rushing into his mask crashed like an ocean wave against his ears. Surely his Captain before him, or Duo behind him, would be able to hear that rush of sound, betraying his inner excitement.
He could feel Duo's gloved hand on his boot as the other firefighter crawled right behind him. Heero firmed his grip on the hose and peered into the gloom, searching for the flames. He set the physical distractions of his body's responses aside, and concentrated on seeking out the crackle of the fire, the feel of the floor, and the lifeline of the hose.
Zechs' bulk ghosted out of the gloom as Heero caught up with the older man. His Captain was kneeling up, picking up the hose and clutching it tight to his side. Heero climbed over the hose, putting himself on the opposite side as his Captain, before he took a position right behind him. Bracing his knees against Zechs' feet, he grabbed the next few feet of hose as he knelt up too. With the hose securely pinned against his left side, he extended his right arm and leaned heavily into Zechs. A second later, he could feel Zechs' body buck back against his arm as the Captain opened the nozzle on the hose. The incredible back pressure pressed against them, the hose fighting their grasp as the primal force of water struggled to be set free against its ages-old nemesis. Heero instinctively shifted his weight, keeping the supporting pressure against Zechs firm and constant as the Captain played the water stream over the fire.
Heero could hear the howl of the fire as the water hit it. It screamed as hundreds of gallons of water were instantly converted to steam. He felt the cloud of hot water vapor wash over him, driving him down, pounding him to the floor relentlessly.
Water was both their greatest friend, and their worst enemy, in a fire. A single gallon of water would convert into 1700 gallons of steam, and all at once if the room was hot enough. It was hot enough. Firemen had been thrown bodily from buildings before, simply because of the explosion of steam as someone opened the hose. That's why experienced firefighters always kept their water stream tight and focused, and aimed low at first, rather than in a wide fog pattern, which would increase the surface area, and high up in a room where the temperatures could be as much as 1000 degrees higher.
Zechs hadn't made it to captain at a young age by being inexperienced. After a moment, the pressure of the steam let up, although the temperature was still high. Heero leaned forward, giving his Captain a little relief from the backpressure of the hose. Duo molded to Heero's back, helping take some of the strain off of him.
The three of them crawled forward, fighting down the throat of the fire, dousing the ceiling and walls, coating the floor. All Heero could make out of his surroundings was a faint cherry glare in the direction they were steadily crawling, the deep black gloom of the soot, smoke and charred surroundings, and the occasional faint whisp of thick, feathery white steam. He could feel the crunch of charcoal and embers under his knees, and he could feel the buildup of heat through the heavy cloth of his bunkers. It was growing darker as the crimson glow of the fire sputtered and guttered under his Captain's assault.
Peering into the deepening gloom, Heero spared himself a rueful chuckle. Who would have thought it could be so dark in the middle of the day? He'd never understood what fire was all about before this job. Hollywood's dramatic interpretations and tidy little propane fed blazes could do nothing to prepare the average person for the reality of an honest fire.
There were no open rooms with shoots of flame drifting artistically up the walls. There were no clear views of your target, and easy walks into familiar territory. Victims didn't just lie in the middle of the floor, waiting dramatically to be dragged from their not-so-fiery hell into the waiting arms of handsome young paramedics.
There would be fire. Oh yes, it would be there, eating everything up and belching out thick clouds of acrid smoke. Black if you were lucky and there were no strange chemicals or other hazardous materials there. Most often it would be a sick yellow or a leprous grey of melting polystyrene or combusting foam and plastic. Black wood smoke was getting to be rarer and rarer.
You couldn't see your hand touching your mask most of the time, even in good light. Usually, you would find the fire by the sound of its crackle, or the feel of the heat. You wouldn't see it until you were practically crawling into it. Simply forget about walking into it. Walking would give you no idea of the terrain you were entering. The floor could simply cease to exist below your feet, and youd ne'ver know it until it was too late if you were walking. That's why you crawled. Never mind the fact that most of the time, if you stood up in a fire, you'd melt your helmet, your facemask, and, most likely, you, right off. It was cooler on the floor, cool enough to crawl in and slay the beast.
As for the victims, they had an amazing ability to wedge themselves into the tiniest places, crawl into the most minute of spaces, and vanish under or behind objects in their search for safety from the fire. If you found someone out in the middle of the floor, odds were, they were probably already dead. However, if you did find a victim, they would be mostly incapacitated, and unable to help you drag their dead weight out. Of course, there would be people waiting just outside whose job it was to help you get the victim to those handsome young paramedics. Heero considered the two paramedics who he'd passed on his way out of Station 8. Handsome? Check. Young? Check. At least there was one thing Hollywood got right.
Zechs suddenly leaned forward, almost toppling both Heero and Duo on top of him as he shut down the hose. He turned and leaned close enough to Heero that their masks were touching. Heero could hear the buzz and feel the vibrations of Zechs' low air warning. As Duo crawled up next to them both, the driver's own warning began to buzz.
“Time to pull out. We need more air!” Zechs shouted, trying to make himself heard through the stifling masks.
Heero and Duo both signaled their assent as they turned and started following the hose back out. Heero could hear Zechs behind him, radioing their status out. His own radio vibrated against his chest as the Batt Chief responded outside. He thought he caught something about replacements, but he wasn't sure, since his own buzzer chose that moment to start going off.
Halfway to the outside, three firefighters bumped into them, heading towards where they'd left the nozzle of the hose. After a quick shuffle, Heero and his crew continued their progress outside, while the other three took up their positions deep within the building.
His mask fogged up badly as the sweat and heat finally began to take its toll on him. All he could make out of the haze before him was a gradual brightening in the fog as they approached the door. He didn't even realize he'd made it all the way out until someone was hauling him to his feet, and pulling off his helmet and mask.
As soon as the mask came off, he sucked in a great lungful of air, surprised at how much cooler it was than his tank air. Beside him, Duo was doing the same thing. Heero turned around in time to see Zechs crawl out of the cloud of smoke and into the clean outer air. He started to walk forward to help his Captain, the same way someone had helped him, but he was stopped by a strange firefighter who stepped up and efficiently accomplished the tasks.
“Relax man,” Duo panted beside him.
“That's what the RIT Team[1] is for. Get some air… Take a breather. We'll be in there getting our asses kicked again in no time,” Duo said between gulps of air.
Zechs, no freed of his mask and tank, motioned for Heero and Duo to follow him as he went over to see the Batt Chief.
“We're out.”
“Get to Rehab.[2] You guys were in there for forty-five minutes.”
Zechs nodded, and headed for Engine 8.
“Take off your coat and you hood. Cool down before you give yourself heat exhaustion. There's a water cooler in the cab with some cups. Get something to drink,” Zechs instructed him as he started to shrug out of the sweaty, heavy coat.
Heero hopped into the cab and got three cups full of water and handed them out to Duo and his Captain before he started shrugging out of his gear.
“We really gotta be careful about dehydration, since we get so hot in there. Especially when we've been in for a while and out air packs start to heat up. Once our air gets warm, then not even breathing helps cool us off. Didja notice?” Duo asked.
Heero nodded after he pulled off his nomex hood. Curiously, neither Duo, nor Zechs had removed their own hoods. Heero filed that away in the back of his brain as he gulped down the whole cup of water, and the retrieved the cooler to refill everyone's cups.
“Wu-man!” Duo crowed as he took the full cup of water from Heero.
Across the fireground, a slim, young Chinese man turned to stare at the wildly gesticulating Engine 8 Driver. He waved and started making his way over towards them.
“Hey, Wu. Wondered if we'd see you here,” Duo said, restraining himself from grabbing the other man in a hug only because of his sweaty, sooty state.
“Hn. Someone has to try and piece together the disaster you leave behind,” he replied, tossing an appraising glance at Heero.
“We? Leave behind? Hey, you used to be right here with us, Wu-man. Bustin' out walls and takin' down doors with the best of us. But then you had to go and abandon us! *sniff* So we had to get ol' Heero here to replace ya,” he quipped back, throwing an arm around Heeros shoul'ders in a brotherly fashion.
Heero speared him with an icy glare. Duo remained oblivious as he continued chattering on.
“He uses air better than you, Wu-man. Outlasted Zechs an' I both. Can ya believe it? So you just go right on and play your little Arson Inspector games, and we'll just go right on *earning* our paychecks,” Duo said, winking at Wufei playfully.
“Hn. Whatever, Maxwell.”
He turned to Heero then and offered his hand.
“I'm Wufei. I managed to escape this crazy baka when I went to Arson. There's always slots open over there, just in case,” he suggested, tossing a slight smirk at Duo.
Duo stuck out his tongue childishly while Zechs chuckled.
“Heero. Heero Yuy. I'll keep it in mind.”
“Batt Chief says the fire is almost out. You guys did a good job. They'll need you for overhaul[3] in about fifteen minutes or so,” Wufei said to Zechs.
Zechs nodded as he refilled his cup and drained it dry.
Duo chattered at them all while they watched other firefighters come and go from the building. Heero mainly blocked out the drone of the driver's voice as he committed as much of the fire as he could to memory. He needed to be quicker, stronger, calmer. His air should have lasted longer, and he shouldn't be so worn out.
He didn't notice when Wufei wandered off, and Duo got quiet. At least, not until Duo leaned very close and whispered in his ear.
“Don't sweat it man. This is tougher than it looks.”
“Huh?” Heero glanced at him.
“You. The fire. I can see it in your eyes. Yer angry at yourself for not being ‘tough enough'. Don't sweat it man. This shit is harder than it seems. You did better than a lot of seasoned pros. Your air outlasted mine and the Captain's… I didn't think that was possible. You did great, man. Don't sweat it.”
“Hn.”
Duo shook his head.
“You and Trowa are going to get along great.”
Heero chose not to dignify that with a response.
He wasn't sure how much longer it had been, but the Batt Chief eventually waved them all over, so they ditched their water, grabbed their gear, and headed back to work.
Duo and Heero were in a back room of the burnt out building, using a long tool with a sharp hook on one end to rip down the ceiling.
“Nah, this section's clear. Let's head over to that corner. Looks like there may have been some extension there.”
Heero followed his lead and started demolishing the corner, just as Wufei carefully picked his way into the room. Duo paused, leaning on his pike pole as he watched Wufei examine the room carefully.
“Well, Wu-man? Was it arson?”
Wufei stared pointedly at the area where Duo was standing and pursed his lips.
“Well, if it was, then it's a homicide case now.”
“Huh?” Duo asked, his face puzzled.
“Duo, would you mind not standing on the bodies?” Wufei asked, pointing at the charred lumps Duo's big boots were balanced on.
Heero turned then, watching as Duo jumped to peer down at his feet.
“That's a body?” Duo yelled, backing off towards Heero.
“Yes. And so is the one you just walked across. Actually, that whole pile of stuff is,” Wufei said, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips as he pointed to the area of the room that both Duo and Heero were standing in.
Heero spared a glance down towards his own feet, and just barely made out the outline of an arm against the char and debris.
“Hn.”
Carefully placing his feet, he extricated himself from that side of the room and went to stand next to Wufei. Duo wasn't nearly as graceful as he bounced out of the pile of flotsam.
“Man, that's gross!”
Wufei started to snicker a little as he knelt down and poked at the edge of the pile a little.
“Heero, could you go get the Battalion Chief for me? We're going to need PD assistance on this. This just became a crime scene.”
Heero nodded and turned. The last thing he heard as he exited the room was Duo's aggrieved voice.
“Wu-man, yer one sick puppy!”
Heero watched as the police and the arson team taped off the building. The Forensics van was parked just beyond the perimeter, while the Forensics Technicians busied themselves with shrugging on their coveralls and gloves. Duo walked up and handed him a fresh cup of water. Zechs was still over talking to the Batt Chief.
“Some fire, ne?”
“Hn.”
“Can you believe Wu? ‘Duo, would you mind not standing on the bodies?'” Duo quipped in a near perfect mimicry of Wufei's slightly amused voice.
Heero glanced over at the other man. Duo was frowning as he watched the Forensics Techs enter the scene. Heero almost couldn't help the quirk of his lips as they threatened to smile without his permission. He shook his head and concentrated on something other than the frown on those pouty lips.
“Why haven't you taken off your hood yet?” Heero asked.
Duo jumped, as if he'd forgotten the presence of his partner beside him.
“Huh? Oh. Hrm. Don't wanna mess up my hair, big guy,” he replied with what was supposed to be a sultry wink.
With the hood compressing some of his face, and the smudges of soot across his cheeks and nose, the effect was somewhat more comical than lecherous. Heero simply shook his head and drained his cup.
Zechs chose that moment to start heading back their way.
“Do we have all of our tools loaded back up?” He asked Duo as he neared them.
“Yup. They didn't pull anything off other than a couple of axes and the pike poles Heero and I were using, anyway. Are we outta here?” He asked.
Zechs nodded.
“Arson and PD have the scene now. Weve be'en cut loose. Let's head home, boys.”
Duo let out a whoop and up-ended his cup over Heero's head before he dashed around to the other side of the rig and hopped into the driver's seat.
Heero shook his head, trying to get rid of the water dripping into his eyes with little success. Zechs merely chuckled as he climbed into the Captain's seat.
“You coming, man? Or you planning on staying here today?” Duo yelled, laughing at Heero through he window.
Heero growled to himself as he climbed into the engine. Duo gunned the motor and backed the rig out onto the street. When traffic had cleared, he pulled away from the scene and headed for Station 8, singing “We Are The Champions” at the top of his voice.
Heero sighed to himself.
It was going to be a long day.
~TBC~
Notes:
[1] RIT Team- Rapid Intervention Team. Their main purpose is the be fully ready to enter the building at any moment to either rescue injured personnel or victims, and to help firefighters exiting the scene get to the rehab station as soon as possible. Back
[2] Rehab- Once a firefighter has exited the fire scene, he or she is encouraged to go cool down and get something to drink until he or she is needed again. These breaks are typically voluntary unless the firefighter has been inside the scene for an entire air tank or more, and then Rehab is required. Back
[3] Overhaul- the process of ripping out walls and ceilings to look for fire that may have escaped notice before. (One of the main reasons I'm convinced that people actually become firefighters… Sanctioned destruction.) Back
~RavynFyre~