Fire and Smoke: Part 4
Fandom: The Pitt
Word Count: 3,023
Tag List: @emma8895eb
Series Masterlist
While you figured that quitting meant youâd never really see your coworkers again, Shadow certainly felt differently. Your old teammates understood that you were going in a new direction and had never been too close with you anyway, so they let you go pretty easily. Jazz and Gran sat down with you when you announced you were leaving, talked about it a bit until you shut down the conversation.Â
Shadow held it together pretty well when youâd broken the news of your departure. Heâd helped you pack up your belongings and clean out your locker when you left. A few days later, he chanced reaching out to check on you. You took it better than he expected and met with him for lunch. He tried not to get emotional; he succeeded most of the time.Â
You met with him about once every three weeks, getting lunch or coffee. He still asked you for advice about work, which you always gave. Shadow had cemented himself as one of the few people in your life you considered yourself to be close with. He was a good friend, a little bird under your wing. You never really thought heâd disappear from your life.Â
The last time you saw him was on a cool autumn afternoon. He stopped by the library to pick up a book and a few movies.Â
âAfternoon, Dex!â
You let a soft smile cross your face. His hair had been getting a little long, so he pulled half of it back in a ponytail.Â
âHey, Shadow. How have things at the station been?â
âPretty quiet for now. Weâve had a few minor calls, but nothing too bad. Iâve got the weekend off, so Iâm having a little marathon with my roommates.â
âAh, the boys. And how are they?â
Shadow handed you his library card and the stack of items.Â
âTheyâre all good. Joeyâs over his cold. Max is making us dinner.â
You made a little noise of agreement. Max was quite a good cook according to Shadow.
âAnd Luca got back from his reunion, so weâre all together for the weekend.â
âThatâs good! Youâll have to tell him I say hi.â
Shadow looked at you as you printed his checkout receipt.Â
âYou donât have to push formalities, Dex. Luca gets it.â
âThank you.â
Shadow nodded. Luca was never big on formalities either, opting to say as little as possible to new people and launching straight into conversations instead of suffering through small talk. You liked him. He was a good kid, like Shadow.
âThank you as always for your help. Iâll check in with you again next Tuesday.â
You waved goodbye and thought nothing of it.Â
On Tuesday night, you were wrapping up your book in your quiet little apartment. Shadow hadnât called yet, which struck you as odd. He always kept your shared routines. You tried to distract yourself figuring out where to meet with Robby once you were both finished with the book. It was a big chance for you to take, trying to meet with him for coffee. It wasnât just a simple book recommendation or baked goods dropped off at the ED. You were really trying to build something with him.Â
Just before midnight, still struggling to search for sleep, you got a phone call. Within two minutes, you were out the door and driving to the same ED that had managed to save you a year ago. Your parking job was shitty, but you were in no frame of mind to care. You moved on autopilot as you ran through the nearest doors and begged a nurse for information. You were rushed through to the trauma bay where a doctor with graying curls called out orders to the other staff.Â
Everyone moved in perfect sync, pushing meds, monitoring vitals, and gauging the severity of his burns. You stood in the corner by the doors, your hands shaking uncontrollably. You couldnât even speak, just watching without really seeing what was happening. Shadow was barely hanging on. After a few moments, the doctor caught sight of you and sent a nurse to remove you.Â
âExcuse me, I need you to come-â
âNo. Iâm his- I need to be here. Whatâs happening to him?â
You planted your feet firmly in place. Heâd been there for you, you would be there for him.
âDoctor Abbot-â
âIâm not going! Iâm sorry, but he needs me!â
Abbot stepped away for a few seconds, the nurses continuing with their efforts as he moved to rest a hand on your shoulder. You dodged it, a harsh light in your eyes that told him to keep his distance. He raised his hands in a placating gesture, but you could hardly process what was happening.Â
âWhatâs your name?â
âY/N. I got the call, I need to see Shadow. I need to be with him.â
Abbot took note of your desperate tone and opened the door to show you out.Â
âCan we step out for just a second to talk?â
You watched Shadow on the gurney, still and surrounded by nurses. The energy around him was frantic. It set your entire being on edge.Â
âI canâtâŚâ
âWeâll be just on the other side of these doors, he wonât even leave your sight.â
You half nodded and stepped out next to him, your hands pressed tightly together.Â
âYou said we called you?â Another small nod. âSo youâre his emergency contact. Are you a family member?â
âUh, no. Iâm- well, I was- his lieutenant. I retired, but weâre still in touch.â
Abbot nodded and forced his eyes away from the hustle and bustle in the trauma bay to watch you.Â
âHow bad is it?â
You were hardly even blinking. Your hands were squeezed tight together, still shaking as you watched your former coworker like a hawk.Â
âItâs not good. He was caught in a building fire. His team couldnât reach him for a while. He was brought in with partial or full thickness burns over most of his body. Weâre doing everything we can right now, but we need you to stay clear of the space so we can work.â
âI canât leave him. I can- I can stay in the corner, maybe? Iâll be out of the way, I just canât leave him.â
Abbot considered this for a moment. He knew it wasnât protocol. He knew Gloria would be pissed if she knew.Â
âOkay, come on.â
Abbot grabbed a stool and pushed it into the far corner of the room, where you perched to watch. He returned to the fray, one nurse catching him back up as they did all they could.Â
Your vision tunneled when the long, screeching beep sounded through the room. More medication was brought, a burn specialist appeared to advise, but the sound didnât stop. Voices all blended together, bodies moved. Someone tried again to reach out to you and remove you.Â
All the fight drained out of you as a tall nurse wrapped her arm around you and guided you out. The touch sent prickling discomfort racing through you as you collapsed into a chair in the hallway. Your head sank down to your knees, your interlocked hands resting over the back of it.Â
You werenât sure how long it was before someone came to get you. Your eyes stung, strained with the effort not to cry. Abbot stood in front of you with a somber expression. You couldnât even look up, just focused in on his shoes inches from yours.Â
âYou couldnât get him back⌠could you?â
âIâm sorry, Y/N. We did everything we could.â
âI know. Youâre good people here. IâŚâ you sniffled and prayed your tears wouldnât start now. âI know you did your best. Can I see him? If thereâs time?â
âYeah. I can have him moved to the viewing room and youâll have all the time you need.â
You mumbled a thanks and followed the gurney into a small, quiet room. The nurse closed the door behind her and left you alone. For nearly an hour, you just watched him. A part of you willed him to breathe again, to move and wake up and come back. It killed you to know he wouldnât.Â
Eventually, you called each of his roommates. Youâd only met any of them a handful of times, knowing far more about them from stories told by Shadow than by personal experience. You tried to keep your voice steady, to tell them where to go.Â
You called Luca first, who promised to get in touch with his family on the way. Max put you on speaker when you called so Joey could hear you. They caught a ride to the hospital as soon as they could. Another nurse led them into the room as they arrived. None of them knew what to say or do.Â
Luca broke down first. He fell to his knees next to you and gingerly leaned against your knee as the tears began to fall. Heâd only been able to leave voicemails for Shadowâs sisters. His parents had passed a few years ago.
Max carefully took hold of one of his burnt, still hands. So much of his skin was blistered and pale, so far from his usual color and liveliness. Joey could hardly look at him for a few seconds before curling up in a chair and staring at the wall. None of you spoke. The only motion was your fingers slowly threading through Lucaâs thick, dark red hair. Shadow had helped him dye it just two weeks ago.Â
Around four in the morning, you let the nurse know you were ready to leave. The boys trailed after you with red rimmed eyes and blank expressions. The staff gave you all sympathetic looks that went unnoticed. Shadowâs body was moved to the morgue. Abbot spared you one more glance as you walked out the doors to the parking lot.Â
The next few days were a blur. Shadowâs sisters came to town, one with her wife and two sons. A funeral was put together. You attended with the boys, Luca and Joey clinging to you in a way you would never ordinarily allow. Your old team attended alongside what felt to you like half the bureau.Â
The weather was blessedly cool, with clouds blocking the sun. It was Shadowâs favorite weather. He was always happier on stormy days than sunny ones. You listened as each of his sisters spoke, then his lieutenant. Youâd declined to speak, not trusting your voice in front of so many at such a vulnerable occasion. You just stood there, in your all black suit, holding Lucaâs hand in your right, Joey wrapping both hands around your left arm. You werenât sure who was supporting who more.Â
When the service concluded and most attendees left, you approached his sisters. Melanie and Georgia were wiping away their tears, Georgiaâs boys both holding each other in their seats. The two women tried for smiles when you reached them, though it didnât result in much.Â
âIâm not sure if you know me, but I was Shadowâs lieutenant for a while. I retired from the bureau a year ago. He was- he was a good man.â
âYouâre Dex?â
You nodded.Â
âHe talked about you a lot. He thought the world of you.â
You sniffled and looked down at the grass.Â
âIâll never understand why. He was⌠so positive. Like a⌠golden retriever. So eager to please, ready to learn.â
The women laughed a little, quickly devolving into more sniffles.Â
âI guess he made me his emergency contact. I was⌠I was there when they brought him to the ED. I just want to say Iâm sorry for your loss.â
Melanie wiped at her eyes and met your gaze for as long as you could manage.Â
âAlfie loved what he did. He talked about wanting to be a firefighter since he was⌠probably seven years old. It was his dream. Weâre glad he got to live it. And weâre glad he had someone here to show him how. To look out for him when we couldnât.â
You nodded softly. There was so much more you wished youâd done for him.Â
Despite yourself, you offered them both a hug. Once you stepped back, you wiped your eyes and said your goodbyes. You caught up with the boys in the parking lot and sent them home to their apartment. Then you got into your own car and started driving.Â
You didnât end up at home. You just kept on driving, out of city limits and beyond. It wasnât until some time after midnight that your eyes grew heavy and you pulled off the road at a truck stop. You staggered into the convenience store and bought a too small throw blanket and a travel pillow. You fell asleep in the passenger seat, cranked back to get some approximation of a sleeping position.Â
In the morning, you called your manager to tell them you were taking more time off than youâd originally intended, that you didnât want to talk about it, but youâd need a full week off.Â
The only consistent stops you made were to fill up on gas and get enough food and drink to keep yourself going. You ended up in a little town near the northern tip of Maine called Hancock. You stayed for two days. You walked along the rivers and the beaches. No one spoke to you, no one asked you anything.Â
One evening, wrapped in a thick sweater that nearly fell to your knees, you laid on your hood and stared up at the sky. In the cold and the quiet, you took one shuddering breath after another.Â
Shadow was gone.Â
He was never coming back.Â
At four in the morning in a town youâd never heard of until you arrived, you slipped your phone from your pocket and put on Shadowâs favorite playlist. Heâd made it for you himself, having stolen your phone one afternoon while you baked and promising you youâd love it. You hadnât listened to it once since he made it, figuring it would be full of stuff you would never pick out yourself.Â
It started with soft folk tunes. Gently plucked guitar strings, smooth, low vocals that warmed you through the October chill. Without your permission, tears cascaded down your face, trailing to the edges of your ears before you tucked your hands up to stop them.Â
Youâd never told Shadow your favorite artists, and you knew he was far more inclined to lively rock or niche punk bands.Â
When you ran out of tears to cry, you took deep, measured breaths. The cold settled in at your back, prickling at you even through your sweater. Even so, you remained there. Pressed against the metal, Shadowâs voice in your head just beneath the songs heâd chosen just for you.Â
He was the closest youâd ever come to having a sibling or a child. He looked up to you. Trusted you. Liked you. Listened to you. He was your little duckling, your little shadow.Â
And he was gone.Â
At nearly six in the morning, you slid off the hood and slipped back into your car. You drove until you found a motel and checked in. You spent nearly sixteen hours sleeping before waking up in a haze. You forced down a dinner, then went right back to bed. The next day, you started back towards Pittsburgh.Â
You took your time, stopping at attractions advertised on billboards and markets as shown on wooden signs pounded into the dirt.Â
Just an hour outside Pittsburgh nine days after Shadow took his last breath, you pulled up to an Autumn festival in Kittanning. There were laughing children, a pumpkin carving station, and fresh apple cider. Everyone looked so⌠happy.Â
You slowed to a stop when you came across a man sitting next to a little enclosure full of reddish golden retrievers. The five puppies were playing around, yipping at each other and tumbling head over paws as they tried to climb atop their mother.Â
âInterested in gettinâ a pup?â
âHm?â
The man straightened in his chair.Â
âMy neighborâs golden got my girl Maizy here pregnant and I gotta get the puppies to new homes now.â
You looked down at the collection of dogs. Two had classic golden fur, while the other three had a deeper, more red color. One puppy sat at the edge of the group, staring up at you as you watched them all. Against your better judgement, you knelt down and reached in with one hand, letting the curious creatures sniff at you and lick your fingertips.Â
You felt a smile break across your face, the first since you received that fateful call.Â
âI uh⌠I donât live here in town. I live in Pittsburgh. I donât know if I canâŚâ
âTell you what. Theyâre old enough to leave Maizy. Iâve been house training them as best I can. Theyâre healthy little critters. If I canât find a home for one after⌠two months, I could reach out and see if youâre still interested.â
Your eyes flickered up to him.Â
âYou sure?â
âOh, sure. I can see youâd be a good pet owner. Itâs all in the eyes.â
You huffed out a little laugh and looked back down as the quiet one nudged at your fingers. You gently brushed your hand over its back and stood again. You exchanged names and numbers with the man, then moved on.Â
For the rest of the day, you thought of that dog. Maybe a little companionship would do you some good. But you had to think rationally. You had no supplies for a dog. Youâd never trained one yourself before. This wasnât a spur of the moment kind of decision. You had to consider it, turn it over in your mind, look at all the angles.Â
Four days after your return to Pittsburgh, you called Ian and arranged a day to pick up your new dog, then spent the afternoon buying everything you could possibly need. Your home was about to change forever, you had to be ready.









