Remi didn’t even wait for the engine to fully stop before he yanked the door open. In all his time fighting fires and tending to medical emergencies, he’d been lucky enough to never know anyone personally involved in a serious incident.

So it didn’t matter that he didn’t know Kris Novak all that well. What mattered was that Leon’s little brother was caught up in that blaze. Remi’s best friend since kindergarten, Leon. Their moms were almost sisters. Remi and Kris had never had much in common or spent any real time together, but it was enough of a connection for Remi to take this call more personally than he should.

“Washington!” Captain Bishop called out as several more pairs of boots hit the asphalt. The sirens were wailing around them and flashing red lights illuminated the grisly scene. “Do we have a problem?”

“No, sir,” Remi replied without hesitation. He could still do his damn job. He just wanted to do it fast. Christ, Leon would never forgive him if his baby brother got hurt.

Bishop seemed satisfied with his answer and was already looking back toward the building, assessing the situation. “Holby, Greg,” he called out. “Get to the roof and cut us a vent.” The truck was already winding up the ladder, angling it toward the top of the bar. Greg and Holby ran for it.

Remi was edging toward the front door. Although the flames were bad, the building’s structure was intact for now and he was sure he could get inside. Sure enough, Bishop turned back to him. “Remi, Alondra, take the front entrance. Channing and Travis, check the back and sides for another way in or out.”

“Yes, Captain!” Remi cried in chorus with the others, already running. Alondra was by his side. She might be smaller than him, but he didn’t have to worry about her keeping up. For all her joshing about her ankle earlier, it was perfectly fine, and the woman was built like a tank.

Remi turned so his back was to the bar and kicked next to the handle of the door with his heel, forcing it to open inwards. The fire wasn’t so bad by the entrance, but the inside of the bar was already looking bad with flames licking at the walls, particularly by the dance floor where some sort of fabric hung. Remi had never been inside before, but he could tell the blaze was already wreaking havoc.

“Fire department!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, his mask firmly in place to protect his face and keep his oxygen flowing. “Anyone here? Call out!”

The 911 phone call had come from the apartment up top, but protocol was to check each floor as thoroughly as they could. This place was bigger than an average house, so Remi and Alondra were soon joined by guys from the truck.

“You take this floor,” Remi instructed, heading for a door that looked to lead out back. “There’s a balcony level, too. We’re heading for the third floor.”

“Okay, got it,” one of the part-time volunteer guys called back, already pointing to his colleagues where to go.

Alondra looked behind the bar, not getting too near the flammable alcohol. “Clear here,” she called out to the room, signaling they didn’t need to check again. Remi was running for the door, trusting she would be right behind.

It was locked with a keypad, but they kicked and hacked their way through. Remi’s instincts had been right. The door led to a stairwell. Some of the flames were clinging to the walls, but they could make it up the stairs. The fire could easily spread fast. They had to hurry.

There were no other doors until they reached the third floor, which took them to a single corridor. A visual check confirmed no one else was in the stairwell or the hall. Remi sprinted for the only apartment door, wasting no time turning and kicking the thing in. A lock splintered away from the wood at the force of his foot, but he encountered some resistance as he pushed his way through.

There was a towel lying at the base of the door, stopping the smoke from getting in.

Clever man.

“Fire department!” he yelled through his mask. “Anyone here? Call out!” Before he’d even finished speaking, he spotted the huddled shape on the floor. “Kris!” he yelled, dashing over.

As Remi dropped to his knees, he was already pulling off his glove. Kris was easily identifiable by his blond hair and purple tips, even in the murky gloom. He was huddled in the fetal position with something – or things – clutched to his bare chest. He wasn’t moving, but as Remi jammed his two fingers against his throat, he was immensely relieved to discover Kris still had a pulse. His hand was damp enough that when he held it in front of Kris’s mouth, he felt the breath right away.

“He’s alive,” Remi reported. He yanked off his helmet so he could remove his mask. As he covered Kris’s face with it, he looked over his shoulder to see Alondra had shut the door and was holding it closed with her back. That wasn’t a good sign.

“It’s getting a little cozy out there,” she said. “Unless you want to work on your tan, I think we need to take the window.”

Kris murmured and twitched. Thank fuck. The oxygen was doing its job.

Remi shoved his hand back into his glove and put his helmet back on. Then he grabbed his radio, pressing the button down. “Bishop, do you copy?”

“Bishop, here,” came the instant reply.

“We have the victim,” Remi reported. “The stairwell isn’t looking good. We need an evac through the window.”

“You got it,” Bishop told him. “Greg and Holby are back on the ladder. We’re moving it to you now. Get ready!”

Remi looked to Alondra, still holding the door in place. She nodded. Remi coughed, the smoke getting to him without his oxygen mask. Kris needed it more than him now, though. He was half naked and shivering. As Remi maneuvered around him, he noted that although he was still a small-ish guy, Leon’s little brother wasn’t quite so young or little anymore.

“Come on, Kris,” Remi said. He slid his arms under him and shook loose the things he was holding. “We gotta go.”

“No!” cried Kris, suddenly snapping awake and snatching at the items in his arms. There was a bag over his shoulder, but he fumbled with some kind of large Tupperware filled with water.

There was a fish inside it, swimming about.

“Oh fuck,” Remi said. Kris was still half in and out of consciousness, his heavy breathing fogging up the mask. But he was grappling for the damn fish box.

“Tay Tay,” he muttered with a sob. Remi guessed that was the fish. Goddamn it. This wasn’t protocol. Remi’s priority was always the people, not their pets. But he plucked the Tupperware from Kris’s trembling hands and slid it into the bag, keeping the handle looped over Kris’s shoulder.

He was going to get a reputation for being Dr. fucking Doolittle at this rate.

With the bag on Kris’s belly, Remi scooped him up like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold. Kris flung his arms around Remi’s neck, holding on weakly.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Please.”

“I’ve got you, Kris,” Remi assured him, moving to the window. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“Remi?” Kris mumbled. Remi looked over from the moving ladder at him in surprise. Kris’s eyes were closed, but his face was screwed up with a little frown. “Remi?”

Remi wasn’t sure the kid even knew his name. Sure, he and Leon had been best buds since forever. But there was five years between them and Kris. The kid had fled anytime Remi had come halfway close. In truth, Remi wasn’t even sure Kris liked him.

But here he was, moaning his name. He must have recognized Remi’s voice on some subconscious level after all these years.

“I’ve got you,” Remi promised. “We’re almost out. Hold on.”

“We gotta go!” Alondra yelled. “It’s getting hotter!”

The ladder was just about level with the window now. Remi could see the guys had almost descended all the way down. “You first,” he told Alondra. “I’ll pass the kid out to you. He’s pretty woozy.”

“You got it,” she said. As soon as the ladder touched the windowsill, she bolted, launching herself toward it. The door started rattling. The guys had obviously cut a vent through the roof, but the fire could still race in here at any second. This place could still go up like a box of tinder.

Once Alondra was down a few rungs, Remi eased Kris out, encouraging him to get his footing. Unfortunately, the mask was attached to Remi’s tank, so he had to take it back. But he also took Kris’s bag with the fish in.

“No,” Kris moaned, fumbling on the ladder. Remi and Alondra were there to grab him, luckily.

“I’ve got your fish,” Remi yelled over the noise of the fire. Ash was drifting all around them like demonic snow. “You need to move, Kris. We have to get away from the fire.”

Kris smiled sleepily up at him, blinking his silvery-blue eyes at him. Remi was surprised. He’d had no idea they were that color. Why would he?

“I always dreamed you’d be my hero,” Kris mumbled, his eyes already half closed again.

What? Remi was completely taken aback. Thankfully, Alondra had her head on straight.

“Come on now, sweetie,” she said firmly, yanking at Kris’s jeans to get him moving down the ladder. “This way. We gotta hurry.”

The second he had enough room, Remi swung his leg out and got himself on the ladder. The three of them worked their way down as the truck slowly backed up, giving them space between them and the blaze. At the same moment, the crew around the engine let loose with the lines, pumping water over the building and dousing the flames.

They were in the clear. Providing Kris hadn’t sustained too much damage to his lungs from smoke inhalation, they were going to be okay. Sure, Remi’s captain was probably going to rip him a new one if he realized he’d risked bringing out a goddamned goldfish after the cat incident that afternoon. But in that moment, it felt worth it.

As soon as they reached the ground, Holby draped a blanket over Kris’s shoulders and steered him toward the end of the truck. “Let’s get some O2 in you, buddy,” he said kindly.

Remi hopped down from the engine and jogged behind them. His heart was finally starting to slow down after all the action. He watched as Kris sat on the end of the truck and allowed Holby to slip the smaller oxygen mask over his face. Kris was blinking rapidly and looking about.

“What happened?” he croaked. He clutched the blanket around his shoulders and held the mask closer to his mouth and nose.

“You had a bit of a close call,” Remi said as he stood in front of Kris and Holby. He took his own mask and helmet off, breathing the night air in deeply. The crew behind him was doing a good job finally putting out the flames in the bar. Remi dropped his bits of gear beside Holby, then turned to Kris. “I believe this is yours.”

“Tay Tay!” Kris cried.

He shot his hands out for the Tupperware box first, then the tote bag Remi still had dangling from his arm. Remi purposefully ignored Holby’s raised eyebrows as he handed them over.

Remi looked back up to find Kris gawping at him with a look of mild horror. “Remi?” he cried, his voice muffled from behind the oxygen mask. “Remi Washington?”

“Er, hi,” Remi said with an awkward wave.

He guessed Kris didn’t remember saying anything about Remi being his dream hero back up in the burning apartment. That was probably for the best.

So why did Remi feel so disappointed?