TILL DAWN.

maverick chuckled, the sound low and hollowed out. "i've got a super hot date after this, so... i wouldn't." his grin stretched a little wider. the only date waiting for him was the middle cushion of his couch and side b of the record he'd plucked from the clearance box a week earlier. "nothing personal, doc. i swear."

the fear of not being cleared had him shifting slightly atop the medical exam table. "it's more like they're waiting on me to show up before dinner time." they all took turns in the kitchen, but mav somehow ended up there more than anyone else. as directed, he pulled in a long breath, held it steadily, and exhaled. "see? told ya." he flashed a grin toward jake, one weighted in playful confidence that he didn't quite feel.

"you sure all this is necessary?" he stared at the other for a beat, but he did as he was told. he rolled both shoulders forward, his jaw clenched tight. when he rolled them backward, he felt a jolt of something sharp shoot straight to his left shoulder, but he didn't let it show. he lifted his arms slowly and then held them out to the side before carefully dropping them back. "i get tightness in my left shoulder from time to time, but that's sorta expected when you're playing with fire." a dry hose was heavy, but a full hose was heavier.

He smirked at Maverick's response, "Ah yes, because I'd definitely classify fourteen hungry firefighters as a hot date." There was a part of Jake though that couldn't actually say that sounded bad. There was a camaraderie that came with working at a station, he'd experienced it when he and Kiraz first got married, that he hadn't found even working at the hospital. And Jake was glad that Maverick had that. "I'll try not to keep them waiting."

He made a note of something on the form. "Tightness from time to time, huh?" He repeated, moving to Maverick's left side. He'd caught it, the barely there clenching of Mav's jaw on the forward roll, the way the backward one had shifted something in his expression for just a fraction of a second before he'd smoothed it over.

He placed one hand lightly on Maverick's shoulder, the other supporting his elbow. "I'm going to move your arm for you this time. Don't help me, don't resist. Just let it go." He began guiding the man's arm slowly, first forward, then gently rotating it outward, watching Maverick's face more than the arm itself. Then he lifted it, slow and steady, rotating it inward across his body.

He stopped just before the apex of the movement, not because Maverick's arm had run out of range, but because he could feel it. The subtle resistance. The way the joint just didn't want to cooperate the way the right one had. "Does that pinch?" he asked, holding it there. Calmly. Like it was routine. "And before you tell me it's fine, I can feel that it's not..." His voice trailed off, waiting for Maverick's answer, hoping for a real one this time.

At Sanem's voice, he drags his attention back to the present, her warm touch serving as the final tug he needed to bring him back to reality. He watches her expression as she takes in the view and now, seeing it through a newcomer's eyes, Dre is overwhelmed by the frustrating helplessness of it all. He should be able to do something about this, be able to protect Sanem, and all the other people in town he cares so deeply about.

He's on the verge of spiralling back into his thoughts when she asks her question and he shifts to face her, refusing to allow his thoughts to drift again. His mouth pulls at one corner, not quite a smile as he looks down at her, but better than the angry frown he'd been wearing all day. "Define anything."

She wasn't often really honest with people. Maya kept a lot of people at arm's length, not wanting to get in a position where she cared what they thought of her or that their judgement if they found out about her deep, dark secrets would hurt. But at he once reassured her of his belief that she was good, Maya could only shake her head. Maybe she did bad things to help keep people at arm's length, but she wasn't sure what good was left anymore. "Only because you don't know what I've done." Glancing over at him, she couldn't help but smirk a little, her eyes rolling as if she was sober. "Knew it, I'm writing "Dre is obsessed with me" in my journal tomorrow."

She stayed quiet as she listened to him and despite her alcohol induced, solo pity party, she couldn't help the way her heart ached for him in that moment, at the look on his face. She could hear the pain in his voice, maybe even some regret there and she hated it. "Dre.. did you mean for any of that to happen when it did? Maybe if you did, you can join the bad person club, but I don't really think you did." It was the most sensible thing she'd been able to say all night. Shuffling up the bench, Maya gently rested her head on his shoulder, not even noticing a lone tear running down her cheek. "I think it's the tequila talking but if I ever tell you why, please remember that you said that.. I'm not sure I could take watching you walk away in disgust. Not when you knew me before."

But again, his demeanor shifted as she so willingly offered justifications for his actions. "Intention doesn't cancel out impact, Maya," he countered, voice bitter as the conversation he'd had with himself over and over again finally played out with someone else. His shoulders slumped with the weight of the guilt he carried. It had been months now, but it still weighed on him. He was pretty sure it always would. "Not when it affects that many people." He shook his head in disgust with himself, but as she leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder he let out a breath. For once his guilt didn't need to be the focus of his every waking thought.

He wrapped the arm that had been resting on the bench behind her around her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze. Truth was, he could relate to her sentiments about that too. The fear wasn't really about being judged. It was about being known first and then losing that. Having someone rewrite every good memory of you with whatever they found out. He tried to think of what he would want to hear or what might possibly help him feel better. "Yeah, I knew you before, but Maya, I also know you now. And the fact that you're this cut up about whatever it is, shows you're a good person, no matter the mistakes you might have made." He let out a huff, knowing full well he should be taking this advice himself, but he'd brush that off for a later date. "And so I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

It pained her that after passing his three-month probation period, firing Brody wasn't exactly an easy option. Though knowing his behaviours and the way he had made both staff and customers uncomfortable, Jordan might just have enough reasoning to get away with it.

the muscles in his jaw tightened as he nodded slowly. he wouldn't push off the other's words of gratitude, but he couldn't accept all the credit. he wasn't a religious man by any means, but he knew the team hadn't done it alone. "we know how much this place means to sedona, dre. i just wish we could've gotten here even ten minutes earlier." he tore his gaze away from the man long enough to sweep over the chapel. "if there's anything i can do... now or whenever... please let me know? i wanna help."

At the firefighter's insistence about getting there ten minutes earlier, Dre sucked in a breath, a pang of guilt hitting him all at once as his thoughts immediately went to the threatening letters his father received a couple weeks ago.

His father had brushed them off. We don't negotiate with fear, Andre. We don't give it that kind of power. And Dre had let him, because he always let him, because disagreeing with Reverend James Carter on matters of faith and principle felt a little like arguing with God himself. But standing here now, looking at the scorched remains of a building his family had poured decades into, Dre felt the full weight of that deference settle on his shoulders.

He blinked, pulling himself back, and cleared his throat. "Don't do that to yourself," he said, and there was a quiet roughness to it, because he was saying it just as much to himself as to Maverick. "You guys got here as fast as you could have. You did everything you could with the time you had."

His hand found the back of his neck, rubbing there once. "Trust me," he added, his voice dropping just slightly, "I know what it feels like to wonder what would've been different if you'd just acted sooner." He left the statement there. Didn't explain yet. But his eyes stayed on the chapel a beat too long to mean nothing.

₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of character analysis/headcanon questions to learn more about your character and your partners'! writing/headcanon prompts requested by anonymous. feel free to edit these as you see fit.

"Jordan, Shamsi, do you really think I volunteer my time here weekly to tell people that come in to go and buy a dog instead of adopting one of them here? I know you've developed a very low opinion of me for some reason, but do you really think me a monster?" His eyebrows rose a little, his hand resting over his chest to mime the hurt he was pretending to feel, especially after the little jab from her finger. "You know, if you want to touch my chest again, you can just ask, you don't need to be quite so violent."

Nodding, Ziyad couldn't wipe the grin from his face if he tried, so proud of himself that he had managed to keep this up for so long and so happy that she was so stubborn in her opinion on him. Oh how he wished to see her face when she realised the high horse she had been on for their entire conversation didn't really exist. "I was just wondering, page 72 is just my personal favourite, is all." It was the page that held the picture of him holding Mati, the puppy licking his face as he claimed his owner. "Check it out sometime, Shamsi." He tacked the nickname on again, just to drum it in after she commented on it. To him, it was the only name that truly described her.

Looking down at her, Ziyad watched as she looked him over and as she reached his face, he quirked an eyebrow up. "See something you like?" Nodding, Zee attempted to hide his smirk as he took a step away, flicking a finger towards Mati to get the dog to follow him. "I have to get going anyway, but I hope to see you on my next shift, Jordan, as always, it's been a pleasure."

He headed towards the exit, Mati on his heels as he waved goodbye to the staff. "Oh, isn't he?" Ziyad glanced to the side as the shelter manager spoke in agreement on his dog. "He's the cutest and even cuter because he's one of our own success stories. Isn't it so nice to get to see one of our shelter dogs so regularly now they have such a happy life?" Ziyad grinned, his eyes snapping back to Jordan again. Throwing her a wink, he raised his hand before heading out the door. "See you next week, you can apologise then."

But as the woman's words settled over her, Jordan felt the colour drain from her face. Her mouth nearly fell open. She looked back at Ziyad just in time to catch his wink, then watched him stroll out the door like he hadn't just pulled the ground from under her feet.

Jordan stood there for a moment too long, grappling with the question, had she been wrong about him? She turned back to the counter and straightened a stack of leaflets that did not need straightening, her hands needing something to do while her mind tried to sort through every assumption she'd built about him, brick by brick, only to find the foundation missing. She'd misjudged him. The thought sat heavy and unfamiliar in her chest. Slowly, almost against her will, she started down the hall.

So why, with all of that going on in her head, was the thing she couldn't stop thinking about that stupid wink?

"As for actual first dates coming out of it—" she leaned against the bar top, expression shifting into something conspiratorial, "I think it did more to stir up drama than actually forge new connections, but don't tell Miss Marilyn I said that." She let out a laugh. "It'll give her a big head."