"Do not leave this firehouse without wearing your vests and be diligent of your surroundings. If something feels wrong, contact dispatch immediately. Let's have a safe shift and all come back home."
Rachel sat beside Blake as they listened to the battalion chief address the room. The mood in the room was one of concern, but there was also the sense of comradery. They were a family and would look out for each other.
"Webber, you and Blake hang back a minute," the chief addressed them. "You two are my SWAT medics, today, so if there is an incident, you will be first on scene."
"Yes, sir," she and Blake said in unison.
They'd trained hard in Dallas for this and she felt they were ready. She padded Blake's chest to make sure he had his vest on, and he just smiled at her. Sometimes, her partner thought he was superman, so she was glad to see him listening.
"Let's go get coffee and food," she suggested.
She grabbed a plate and filled it up with eggs, bacon, fruit and toast. She poured another cup of coffee and filled it up with hazelnut creamer and sugar. When she sat at the table across from Blake, he just laughed at her.
"Hungry, Rach?"
"You know breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, and since I was sick the last two days, I have to make up for not eating," she replied between shoveling bites of eggs in her mouth.
"So, what's going on with Jay?"
"I honestly don't know," she replied, setting her fork down. Her appetite suddenly was gone.
"He's going to break your heart, Rachel, and then I'll have to kick his ass."
She raised her head slowly and looked at her partner and said, "Too late."
"Shit. Are you in love with him?"
"Why couldn't I be in love with you, Blake?" she said, purposely ignoring his last question.
"Ah, Rach, you could never handle all this sexiness," he said, smiling. "Besides, kissing you would be like kissing my sister."
He reached across the table and gave her hands a gentle squeeze. "You are one of my best friends, Rach, and you deserve someone who treats you like a queen. Nothing less."
"You're a good man, Blake," she replied, squeezing his hand back.
The alarm began screeching in the background. They stopped eating, leaving their plates on the table, and ran for the ambulance. Rachel's heart sped up when dispatch alerted them that the call was a gas station fire. Blake was driving the ambulance while she verified the address. They were first out of the bay and were followed by the ladder trucks and squad. When he turned the ambulance down 8th Avenue South, she could see the orange flames bellowing up from the top of the Music City Gas station. She couldn't get over a sense of dread with this call.
When they arrived on scene, she was relieved to see several police officers there. This particular station had over fifteen gas pumps and was considerably larger than the others. It was crowded with early morning commuters filling up with gas on their way to work. Before Blake got out of the ambulance, she grabbed his arm.
"Be careful; I have a bad feeling about this," she told him.
"I will, promise."
While the firefighters from her house began dousing the flames, they began triaging the patients. Rachel established a safe zone for non-life threating injuries. For the most part, there were only minor burns and smoke inhalation. She was treating an elderly gentleman with a gash in his right arm, most likely from flying debris, when she heard the first shot. She watched in horror as a police officer went down. He was about twenty five yards from her, and he wasn't moving. She looked around for Blake and saw him covering a patient with his big body. Rachel told the elderly gentlemen to stay put behind the ambulance. She got down and began to crawl towards the officer, who was holding his right shoulder.
Blake motioned for her to get back. He was closer to the officer and made it to him first. She watched as he grabbed the officer's vest and began pulling him out of the open and behind cover. Before he could take two steps, another shot rang out and her heart stopped as she saw her partner fall, red blooming from his neck.
"Blake!" she screamed as more shots rang out.
This time, a firefighter closest to the gas station was hit. From this distance, she couldn't tell who it was. She couldn't just sit here and do nothing while they needed help. She snuck out from behind the ambulance and crawled to a concrete trash can closer to the officer and Blake.
She took a deep breath, said a little prayer, and went to crawl out from behind the barrier, when strong arms grabbed her and wouldn't let her move.
"Have you lost your fucking mind, Rachel? You can't go out there."
"Let me go, Jay. I have to get to Blake!" she cried as she tried to break free from his grasp.
"This bastard is still shooting."
"He's not moving, I can't let him die while I just sit here and do nothing," she pleaded with him.
"Look at me, Rach," he said and turned her to face him. "I have an idea, but you have to promise me you will stay here behind cover."
"I promise."
"I mean it! Are the keys in the ambulance?"
"Yes. What are you gonna do, Jay?"
"Stay here until I tell you to move, okay? Mike is with SWAT, and they are narrowing down the shooter's location."
With that, he took off and headed for the ambulance, leaving her to wonder what his idea was. That crazy man was using the ambo for cover. He backed it straight up to hide Blake and the officer from the line of fire. Rachels froze; her breath caught in her throat when bullets began pelting the ambulance. No! No. No. Jay had to be okay. He couldn't be hurt. She started breathing again when she saw him jump out the back of the rig. Now that the ambulance was blocking the shooter's visual path, he motioned for her to crawl over to him.
On her hands and knees, she made her way behind the ambulance and, with Jay's help, turned Blake over. She checked him and he had a pulse, but it was weak. She handed Jay pressure bandages to place on the officer's shoulder wound while she attended to her partner. He was losing too much blood. The bullet went through his neck and nicked his jugular. If she didn't stop the bleeding immediately, he would die.
"Jay, I need you here. Look in that trauma bag and hand me the hemostat clamp. It looks like pair of scissors.”
“Is this it?” he asked, handing them to her.
"Yes. I have to clamp this artery off before we can move him. Hold his head still."
She placed her thumb and forefinger on the wound until she found the bleeder, then clamped it off with the hemostat clamp. Rachel placed rolls of gauze around the area and placed his head in a collar to prevent movement. Jay helped her get him loaded in the back of the ambulance, along with the officer. She heard Jay radio for a status update on the shooter while she attended to Blake. His blood pressure was dropping and he was going into shock due to the volume of blood he'd lost.
She started two IVs with saline, wide open, and checked him for any other injuries.
"We have to get to a hospital now or he won't make it!" she yelled.
Slowly, the ambulance began moving, with Jay in the driver's seat. The monitors on Blake started beeping and his heart rate dropped.
"I'm losing him!" Rach grabbed the ambu bag and handed it to the injured police officer. She started chest compressions and had the officer bag him.
"Come on, partner, don't do this to me," she whispered in his ear. "I need you; please don't leave me."
"We're almost there, Rach!" Jay try to reassure her.
No matter how many calls she went on, when it was someone you were close to, it was just different. She took a calming breath and let her training take over. She injected a round of epi, got the defibrillator ready and placed the pads on Blake's broad chest.
"Clear!" she yelled and shocked him. His body jumped and she checked for a heartbeat. Nothing. She began CPR again, when the ambulance came to a stop. The hospital staff came running out and unloaded the gurney. Rachel was straddling Blake, continuing chest compressions, when they rolled him through the emergency room doors. When they got him in the treatment area, a nurse took over for her and she got off the gurney. She stood back and let them work. They gave him more epi and shocked him two more times. For just a moment, she thought he was gone, but that little monitor started beeping again.
He was back. He had a strong pulse and a heartbeat. Dr. Collins, one of the best ER doctors Rachel had ever known, came over to talk to her.
"We are taking him straight to surgery. You did good; you got him here. I will let you know as soon as he is out," the older man said as he gently put his hand on her shoulder.
She looked down at her hands, covered in her partner's blood, and broke down. Rachel began shaking uncontrollably and her teeth began to chatter. Her knees were shaking so badly, she thought she would collapse right there on the floor. A warm body pressed against her back and long arms enveloped her. Jay. She leaned into him and he just held her and let her cry.
"It's okay. I have you. Let it all out, baby."
He kept his arms around her and guided her to the women's bathroom. He picked her up and sat her on the counter and gently washed her face and hands. When he was done, he helped her off the counter and pulled her back in his arms.
"He's a tough son of a bitch, baby; he's gonna pull through, believe that."
He kept his arm around her shoulders and guided her to the elevator and up to the surgical waiting room, where they would stay until they knew Blake would be all right.