A/N: *DJ Khaled voice* ANOTHA ONE
WARNING: mentions of suicide. If you ever feel like you need help or need to talk to someone, please call the Suicide Prevention Line. I love you and I hope you stay <3
"We've been here before," Hen observed as they exited the truck. Mariana glanced out at the farmhouse and the empty fields before her eyes settled on the large tree in the yard.
"When?" Buck asked.
"Before you joined us, kid," Bobby sighed.
Lightning cracked across the sky as rain poured down on them. Mariana couldn't pull her eyes away from the body that Chimney was cutting down. She blinked, a similar image flashing across her eyelids. The woman hanging from the tree no longer looked like the victim but rather a more familiar person. Dark hair, blank eyes, tan skin. The freckles that danced across the bridge of her nose and cheeks.
"Mama," Mariana breathed.
"Why would she do something like this?" the husband called out.
"I'm sorry," Bobby replied.
"Whatever it was, we could have talked about it. I could have helped her. I loved her."
Hen turned the wife's arm over, revealing bruises and cuts. Mariana ripped her helmet off and threw it into the muddy ground before spinning on her heel and marching off towards the truck. The brunette ducked around the truck, grabbed onto the handle to steady herself, and doubled over to throw up her lunch. She pressed a trembling hand against her smarting eyes and rubbed them vigorously, fighting against the rain water and the tears.
"Fuck," Mariana sobbed.
By the time the team returned to the truck with her helmet in tow, there was no evidence of any emotion on Mari's face aside from her red rimmed eyes.
"Mari, you can stay off of this one," Bobby whispered to her. She shook her head, a small but dangerous smile playing on her lips.
"Nah, Cap. Let's go see what bit this son of a bitch."
///
Mariana flipped through a magazine boredly as she squeezed the stress ball with the other hand. Giving blood was routine for her so she wasn't affected by the needle or anything. In fact, she was a little too relaxed for everyone's taste.
"How are you so chill about this?" Buck asked.
"I donate blood every eight weeks," she replied casually. "Least I can do considering it helped me from bleeding out on an OR table when I was sixteen and my femur broke after my uncle tried to kill me."
Three heads snapped towards her and Hen let out a soft sound from the back of her throat. "Girl, you don't just say something like that so calmly. What the hell do you mean?!"
"Chimney might remember. He was the paramedic that helped me. My uncle pushed me off our second floor balcony because I didn't pick up a sock."
She turned the page of her magazine and ignored the three people staring at her in shock. It was good that Mariana was being so open but no one realized just how deep the trauma ran and how flippant she was towards it. Whatever they were expecting, it certainly wasn't that.
"Alright well!" Chimney exclaimed. "I want to thank everybody for donating today. I don't know if you know this or not, but ninety percent of all the blood given to patients in the Los Angeles area comes from volunteers. I know that we all put our asses on the line in the field every day to save people but today, you're saving people, and all it's taking is a tiny prick of a needle. So simple, even Mr. Buckley can't mess that up."
Mariana snickered at his last line as Buck saluted Chimney. The phlebotomist finished drawing her blood and quickly bandaged her up, giving Mari the perfect chance to throw her stress ball directly into Buck's chest. The blond sent her a wounded look but tossed it back, resulting in a game of hot potato between the youngest.
"Whoa whoa whoa, you're the captain of this house and you're the only one who didn't participate." Chimney's voice drew their attention to him and Bobby.
"I don't like needles. End of story," Bobby explained.
"Captain, come on!" Hen tried. "You go to donate."
"Yeah, Bobby! If Buck and I can sit still for a few minutes, you should have to do it too!" Mari added, nudging her friend. Buck pulled her in by the crook of his elbow and ruffled her hair as the latina flailed in his hold.
"I don't give blood," Bobby protested. "I never give blood. When I was a kid, they tried to take my blood and I bit the doctor."
The four of them tried to hold back their chuckles but Mariana could still feel Buck's chest vibrate as she leaned back against him, her own laughter fighting to rise past her lips.
"It's not funny! The one time someone tried to take my blood as an adult...didn't go well."
Bobby started to walk off as their laughter increased. Chimney followed him and they began talking as Mariana snagged Buck, Hen, and her some snacks. As they dug into their Cheez Its, Chimney waved them over.
"Now you and everybody else here asked me with how they could help with my recovery. Well, this is how."
They all stared down Bobby and his eyes darted from person to person, trying to find some sympathy. Mariana's little smirk didn't help.
"I hate all of you," he drawled out.
"No you don't. You love us," Mari teased. "Let's get that arm ready, Nash!"
"Nice try. You and Buck get to inventory the truck," Bobby ordered.
Before Mariana could say anything, Buck had her thrown over his shoulder in a fireman's carry as she yelped and punched his back.
"Aw, lighten up Mari!" he laughed as they disappeared behind the truck.
"Those two as friends? Enjoy dealing with those hellions," Hen snickered and patted Bobby on the back.
///
The gym was silent aside from occasional grunts and the clanks of weights hitting the machines. Mariana usually worked out when everyone else was napping, cleaning, or relaxing. She hated sharing the gym space with others because they always wanted to talk. She was here to workout, not gossip. If they weren't running their mouths, they were flexing muscles and having a pissing contest on the bench press. Bobby, however, didn't speak when he worked out. He was one of the few people she didn't mind working out with her.
He was off doing weights while she did consistent reps on the pull up bar. Her arms ached but it kept her mind off of thoughts. She seemed to do that a lot but if it worked this long, why should she start to care now?
Sweat dripped down her skin and she was glad she shed her LAFD shirt earlier, just leaving her in a sports bra and shorts. She dropped back down to the ground and reached for her towel just as Chimney walked down the stairs and ruined the silence.
"Hey Bobby! So that guy in Australia, y'know the one who has the same blood makeup as you, says here that in 1999 he was awarded the Medal of the Order of Australia for saving those kids. And what would be our equivalent? It's got to be the Presidential Medal of Freedom, right? We should totally put you up for one of those. I mean, at like some point."
Bobby's blood work revealed that he held a protein that could save children born Rh incompatible. Chimney had been elated to tell Mari the second they got to the firehouse. As a nurse, she knew how much it could save kids. As a person who could see that Bobby held underlying trauma and guilt, she understood that he needed to think it through.
"I gave some blood, Chim," Bobby grunted. "It doesn't merit a medal. Let's just drop it."
"Drop it? It's the Presidential Medal of..."
Mariana rolled her eyes and followed Bobby to the locker room so she could grab a fresh set of clothes and hit the showers before they turned down for the night. Chimney, unfortunately, followed them.
"You want to tell me what's chafing you?" the paramedic asked, leaning against the doorframe.
"Have we always been this open and touchy feely?" Mariana muttered as she opened her locker down the row.
"Look I get it," Chimney plowed on. "You don't like needles. But you're a lifesaver! That's what you do. You're a hero, man. And somebody just told you that you have the opportunity to save thousands, maybe millions of kids."
"They're the wrong kids!" Bobby roared, spinning around to face Chimney. "I want my kids. Yeah, I'm some lifesaver, aren't I?"
Mariana and Chimney just stood there, staring at him in shock. It was rare for Bobby to yell and even more rare to see him this angry.
"That's what I was put on this Earth to do, but I couldn't save my family," Bobby bit out as he approached Chimney. "Couldn't protect them from me. A hundred and forty-eight. That's the number of lives that I owe for the mistakes that I made. And once I pay that debt I get to be with them again. And I was halfway there, Chim. I was halfway there. I was going to see my kids again. That was the deal."
"The deal with who?" Mariana spoke up, crossing the room to join Chimney's side. "Who did you make that deal with?"
"God. The deal I made with God!" Bobby sat down on the bench and tried to control his breathing.
"I don't think it's God you made a deal with..." Chimney trailed off.
"And then I got that phone call about my blood test and I thought, here we go. Here's my punishment: cancer. And for all my prayers I sent up there, so I could live long enough..."
"Bobby," Mariana spoke with a thick voice as she tried to suppress the emotions bubbling up in her chest. "You're not talking about...killing yourself, right?"
"Yeah. I want out. I want to see my kids again. And I want this pain to end, but it's not gonna end. It's never gonna end. 'Cause God's not punishing me by killing me. He's punishing me by forcing me to stay alive."
Mariana clamped her hand over her mouth and turned her head to the side so they wouldn't be able to see the sheer look of pain on her face. Bobby pushed past them as Chimney tried to stop him but the paramedic just let him walk out.
"Shit," Chimney breathed, placing his hands on his head. Mariana stumbled over to the trash can in the corner of the room and promptly kneeled down and vomited. Hot tears stung her eyes and pressed her trembling hands to them, begging herself to not break down.
"Mari, shit. Hey, hey. It's okay. We'll help him," Chimney exclaimed as he rushed to her side. She shook her head and let out a gasping sob.
"I can't lose anyone else, Chim. I can't. It'll break me," she gasped out. "I don't...I can't..."
He gathered her into a hug, resting his chin on her head as she trembled and shook. Mariana Ramirez didn't cry. She didn't break. Ever.
There was clearly something she hadn't told them.
///
As they left the NICU, Chimney led Bobby away from the hospital exit and towards the ER. At first, Bobby wanted to protest. He was emotionally drained to all hell. But then he saw the brunette seated in a chair in the hall clad in scrubs and a zip up fleece looking all official with her hospital badge denoting her as an RN and her bright yellow clogs.
"Mariana," Chimney called. Her head snapped up and Bobby could see how pale and drawn she looked and the dark circles that clung to her eyes. She stood and met them in the middle of the hall.
"I helped Chim come up with that plan and uh, I wanted to talk to you. My shift just ended so, if you're cool with it, would you come with me?"
"I'll leave you two alone," Chimney said, patting them both on the back.
Bobby thanked him once more before he turned to Mari. "Lead the way."
They silently walked through the hospital until she stopped at a set of doors and peeked inside. Satisfied that it was empty, Mari pushed the doors open and led him to the front row of the hospital chapel. They sat staring at the cross that hung from the ceiling before he broke the silence.
"I didn't know you were religious," Bobby commented.
"I was raised Catholic. Mexican parents, y'know. I fell out of the faith a long time ago but sometimes it's nice to come here. Just to talk. God listens, even if He doesn't send a miracle."
"Mari, I'm sorry if I sca-"
"Don't apologize. Just...just listen."
She took a deep breath, tilted her face up towards the cross, and began to speak.
"My papa died when I was five years old. Car crash. My mama...she didn't know how to handle it. For seven years, she worked her ass off to keep us safe and secure with a roof over our heads. But it all became too much for her. The grief...it consumed her. It swallowed her. Hell, I know what that feels like. But one day, she couldn't do it anymore."
"Mari..."
"I was twelve. Twelve years old and I walked into her room and I-I had to call 911. The paramedics cut her down but it was too late. Her note said that she couldn't help us anymore. That she wanted to join my papa. But did she realize what she left behind? Two kids who...hell, that's a whole story in itself. Bobby, as much as I hate to say it, you mean a lot to me. Everyone in the 118 does. I can't lose you. I've lost everyone I've ever loved in my life. It was hard enough letting you in, hell, it was hard. But now that you're here, I can't lose you. God has a funny way of giving us things in life that we feel like we can't handle. But He knows that we can. He gives us the ways to survive...to live."
Bobby pulled her in for a tight hug once he saw the tears shine in her eyes. His heart clenched at the thought of all the grief clinging to her. He wanted to protect her from the world and its evils. He wanted to see her grow and become happy. He worried every time she recklessly put herself in the line of danger during work.
Because he was beginning to love her like a daughter. He might have lost his family once, but he gained a new one as well. Buck was the stubborn, reckless son. Mariana was the moody yet loveable daughter. Chimney and Hen were the goofy aunts and uncles. Of course, of course. This was his new family.
He opened his eyes, glanced up at the cross, and uttered a silent and quick thank you.