Chapter 4
FOUR
“Get off me, you faggot!”
Madoc winced at their patient’s snarling. The guy, a monster-sized and incredibly drunk dude who said his name was Dozer, had been on the ground and bloodied from a head laceration when A1 had arrived at the scene outside a popular bar in Chinatown. He’d perked up after being transferred to the gurney though, turning combative and shoving at Gus and Madoc until the police had handcuffed his hands in front of him, a strategy that’d only angered him further.
“Relax.” Gus frowned at the wound on Dozer’s scalp. “We need to slow this bleeding or you’re going to make a mess in my ambulance.”
“Fuck your mother.”
“Let’s leave my ma out of this, guy.”
One of the cops standing nearby snorted, but unease prickled up Madoc’s neck. Gus had been quiet tonight, not talking much between calls, expression troubled sometimes like he had a lot on his mind.
Dozer jerked his shoulder away from Gus’s touch. “I’m gonna beat your queer ass into the ground you keep feeling me up.”
“I want to treat you, not make out with you,” Gus quipped. “Besides, you’re not my type.”
Madoc just managed to haul Gus out of the path of the gob Dozer spat at him.
“Pussies.” Sneering, Dozer made a wild grab for them with his cuffed hands, nearly pitching himself off the gurney. “Eat my fuckin’ ass!”
“Pass.” Gus made way for the advancing cops and pulled Madoc along with him. “This guy has lost all of his marbles.”
“You good, Gus?” One of the officers who’d peeled away from the scrum approached them. “If either of you want to press charges for assault, you know it’s an option.”
“We’re okay, right?” Gus looked at Madoc who nodded, and together they glanced over at Dozer who’d gone abruptly quiet under the baleful stares of the cops.
“That fool is losing a lot of blood, Andy,” Gus said to the cop. “Odds are he’ll be too wrecked to do anything once the adrenaline’s burned off.”
Dozer remained subdued as he was loaded into the truck, his skin slick with sweat and pale to the point it was a sickly shade of oatmeal. He flinched and grumped while Madoc and Gus wound gauze around his head, but didn’t fight treatment.
“Feel like shit,” he groused. “Head fuckin’ hurts.”
“That’s why we’re taking you to the hospital.” Gus tried to catch Dozer’s eye. “You hearing me, big man?”
“I hear you, fag.”
“My name is Gus.”
“Dumbest fuckin’ name I’ve ever heard.”
“Okay, Dozer .” Gus rolled his eyes. “Quit flapping your gums and I’ll tell you what’s going to happen when we get to the hospital.”
Officer Andy climbed aboard for the trip to Tufts Medical Center, but Madoc kept watch on the cabin feed to ensure his partner was safe. Luckily, Dozer was too out of it to pose any threat and curled up on his side with Gus’s help, cuffed hands tucked under his chin like a child. When the vomiting started, he didn’t shy away from Gus’s comfort.
“How the hell was that guy even conscious?” Madoc wondered aloud as he and Gus cleaned the epic mess in the back of the truck, the swish-swish of Gus’s mopping sketching a pattern in the night air.
“No idea,” Gus said with a laugh. “But I guess since his name is Dozer, he gotta be tough.”
Madoc chuckled at the way Gus used the local accent on Dozer’s name, all flat vowels and a non-existent ‘r’. Doh-zuh .
“Did you grow up here?”
“Yup. My family lived in Cambridge until I was four, and then my parents bought a house in Brookline so my sis and I could start school.”
Gus’s fond tone made Madoc smile. “Didn’t know you had a sister.”
“Donna. I’m staying with her right now, actually. Also, I’m single, no kids, wicked gay, I like the Red Sox, and my star sign is Leo.”
Looking up, Madoc found Gus watching him closely. “Okay …?”
“You next, since we’re playing twenty questions.”
“That’s not—” Madoc inhaled deeply, his cheeks catching fire. “I’m trying to get to know you. Since we’re partners and all.”
“That’s not all we are from what I heard.” A crease marred Gus’s brow. “How come you didn’t tell me you were looking to ride on P1?”
Okay, that probably explains Gus’s weird mood.
“It seemed like a bad idea,” Madoc said. “It was my first shift at a new house with a new partner—talking promotions would have made me look like a jerk. Especially since we both want the spot on P1 and I’m just a probie .”
Gus wanted to laugh at the disdain in Madoc’s voice. “You’re only a probie because the rules say you are.” He bent back over his mopping. “So, what comes after you make paramedic? Nursing or med school?”
“No.” Madoc drew a fresh cover over the gurney’s thin mattress pad. “I have no interest in carrying that kind of debt.” Again. “Or losing out on more time with my daughter. Getting my medic certs while working full-time has been hard enough and I want to be there for Val.”
“I imagine having a child changes your perspective on lots of things.”
Gus’d stopped mopping when Madoc looked over and was instead eyeing the floor with a far-off expression. When he looked up and met Madoc’s gaze however, Madoc couldn’t have looked away if he’d tried.
“I need to know your head’s in the game,” Gus said. “The guy who knew Perry needed help yesterday and dragged me away from Dozer tonight? I want him on the truck, not someone angling for sexy saves because they think it’ll help them get ahead. I get that I’m just a guy standing in the way of a job you want for yourself, but I’m asking you to put your ambition and the rivalry on hold so we can be there for the patients and each other.”
Madoc could have told Super Gus Dawson to stick his lecture in his ass. Asked if he was ready to put his ego aside for the work. But Madoc had already seen Gus put the job and patients before himself repeatedly in the two shifts they’d worked together so he held his tongue.
“I can do that,” Madoc said instead. “I need the promotion because being a medic will help me give my kid a good life. But I won’t let my plans get in the way of the work or being a good partner.”
Gus held Madoc’s stare a moment longer before he nodded once and took the mop to the closet. “So, why’d you leave Station 5?”
“Traffic.” Madoc wrinkled his nose. “It was murder getting to and from West Roxbury every shift, but Val was settled at school, and I couldn’t move her.”
“Valid. But what if you end up back in West Rox once you’re promoted? Or another station that’s farther out, like Hyde Park or Dorchester.”
“I’ll worry about it once the probie status isn’t a thing. Besides, you could be the one who gets transferred.”
“Sure.” Gus hopped off the truck. “But I won’t be.”
Madoc snorted. His partner was one cocky fucker. Still, it was hard not to admire Gus’s confidence.
And the sparkle in his eyes and those ridiculous crinkles when he smiled.
Not that Madoc was looking.
Their radios beeped. “A1, what’s your location?”
“A1 clear,” Madoc replied, “you can show us at Tufts.”
The alarm sounded a beat later, and the dispatcher’s voice was tense when she spoke.
“Boston A1, P1, A6, MVA on Frontage Road northbound at the Mass Ave. Connector. Code One, 29-D-1 M, major incident with three vehicles affected, passengers reported trapped. Fire and police are on scene and be advised children are present.”
Gus navigated the truck through a thick mess of traffic clogging an elevated section of roadway where two vehicles had a third pinned against a concrete barrier. Police had secured the scene and were diverting traffic, but it was loud and busy with multiple fire and EMS crews at work and news choppers circling overhead.
“A1 on scene,” Gus said into his radio. “Who needs us?”
“P1 has two passengers ready to board the Boo-Boo Bus,” replied Connor’s partner Olivia. “We’re in the car that’s pinned.”
Madoc exchanged a quick glance with Gus. Boo-Boo Bus was the code used for ‘ambulance’ when working around young children so who knew what the fuck awaited them inside that wreck.
Dressed in heavy turnout coats and orange helmets, Madoc and Gus wheeled the gurney toward the wreck, parking it by the two outermost cars. Gus slid easily into the narrow space that sat between them, but it took a second for Madoc to maneuver his bigger frame into the same space, and when Gus glanced back, an improbable smile lit his face.
“Let’s go, Rook!” he yelled. “Get your big caboose over here!”
Madoc barked a laugh. “You’re such a dick!”
“And you’re just jealous my butt is smaller!”
The car at the core of the scene was a small SUV and badly damaged, several windows shattered and the driver and passenger doors crushed inward. Firefighters from the rescue squad stood ready to peel off the vehicle’s roof with their tools, but Gus marched up to the rear of the car and reached in through the hole in the glass.
“Hi, guys!” he said cheerily. “I’m Gus and this here is Walt! How you doin’?”
Reaching Gus’s side, Madoc spied a baby in a bucket-style seat, red-faced and crying, gripping Gus’s gloved fingers with two tiny hands. Olivia was in the front seat with the unconscious driver, while Connor was in back with the baby and a wide-eyed little girl maybe a year or two older than Valerie, her body looking incredibly fragile beside his broad frame.
Gus rubbed the baby’s tummy. “Did I hear you all want to check out my bus?” he asked the little girl.
“They sure do!” Connor’s voice was bright. “I was just telling Lexie and Oskar here that they could wait there with you while we help their mom.”
“That’s a great idea,” Gus said. “We’ve got toys in our bus and stuff to draw with.”
Madoc smiled at the girl, Lexie. “I didn’t even know we had toys!” he fibbed. “I bet Gus’ll show us if we ask nicely though, and maybe even let Oskar drive the bus.”
Lexie furrowed her brow. “Oskar can’t drive, Mister. He’s just a baby.”
Madoc felt more than heard Gus’s quiet laughter. “You know, you’re right? I didn’t even think of that.”
Madoc was very aware of the smoke and noise and the firefighters working, traffic still moving on the opposite side of the road and the choppers noisy above them. But time seemed to slow as he and Gus ferried the children away from the car, Madoc in the lead with Oskar in his bucket while Gus carried the jump bag and Lexie.
Once inside the truck, Oskar settled quickly against Madoc’s shoulder while Gus comforted Lexie who was shedding tears over leaving her mom. Hand puppets and a stuffed toy shaped like an avocado were pulled from the toy drawer, along with a big pad of paper and a package of colored pencils, and Madoc and Gus took turns distracting the kids while examining them, relieved both were uninjured. Oskar soon dozed off in his bucket, the avocado clutched in his chubby fists, while Lexie sat on the bench, her tears forgotten as Gus covered pages of the pad with drawings. Really decent drawings that were crisp and clever as any professional illustration, and Madoc smiled at the notion his partner was some kind of closet artist.
“Can you draw a pony?” Lexie had a puppet on either hand and was leaning against Gus’s arm. “The kind with a rainbow mane and tail?”
“Sure,” Gus replied. “You can color her in however you like. If you don’t want to use colored pencils, there are some crayons and markers in the toy drawer too.”
“I’ll give it to Mama to make her feel better. She was bleeding and the doors on the car are broken,” Lexie said to the giraffe puppet on her left hand, sounding very grave.
“The firefighters have special tools to open the doors,” Gus said. “I used to work with those guys on the rescue truck and I know they’re totally dope at their jobs.”
Madoc frowned to himself. He’d heard Gus’d been a firefighter for several years before moving over to EMS, but it was hard imagining how that’d happened when most firefighters were lifers, married to the job unless injury …
Madoc’s gaze fell to Gus’s right boot.
Oh.
“Did you used to be a firefighter?” Lexie was asking, her dark eyes on Gus’s face now.
“Yup.” Gus smiled at her. “But I hurt my foot, so I got a different job and now I drive the Boo-boo Bus for kids who need my help.”
Lexie flashed him a small smile in return. “And you draw ponies. Are you gonna draw one for Walt?”
Gus’s gleeful expression had Madoc chuckling despite the ridiculous nickname.
“I don’t have time to color right now because I’m working, sweetie,” Madoc said, “but I have a little girl who loves rainbow ponies, and I’d be happy to give my drawing to her.”
Gus didn’t know what to think when his partner pulled a small envelope from his pocket. Walters had been pensive since they’d reunited Lexi and Oskar with their mom, a mood Gus understood. Even with a good outcome, treating children was taxing emotionally, their helplessness adding tension to every second on a call. Which was why Gus’d bought Walters and himself some chai lattes and bolos from the hospital cafe and insisted they take a short break on the truck’s bumper.
“This is from Val,” Walters said, holding the envelope out. “Her thanks for the bolos . I meant to give it to you earlier but there wasn’t time.”
Warmth rose in Gus’s chest as he looked over an extremely adorable card with a ladybug drawn in crayon smiling at him above a carefully lettered ‘Thank you from Val’.
“I love it,” he said with a grin. “Will you thank her for me?”
“Of course.” Walters bit his lip. “Can I ask about your time as a firefighter? I knew you were with Boston Fire, but hearing you talking about it with Lexie tonight got me thinking about how it wasn’t that long ago you had a whole different career.”
And a whole different life.
Gus tucked Valerie’s card into his breast pocket. “Firefighting was all I knew for a long time,” he said. “Wanted to apply to the Fire Academy on my nineteenth birthday but my ma asked me to hold off until after I turned twenty-one.”
“Bet you appreciated that.”
“I did not.” Gus shared a smile with his partner. “I understood Ma and my pops just wanted me safe. They hoped I’d lose interest in firefighting and go to college, maybe get a degree in Fine Arts.”
Walters’ eyebrows went up. “You like drawing that much?”
“I love it and always have. I never wanted a career in art, though. I took a bunch of classes anyway while I waited to turn twenty-one and also got my EMT cert because you need one for the Fire Academy.”
“That sounds on-brand,” Walters said drily, though there was a teasing gleam in his eye. “Your folks had to have known you weren’t going to lose interest by then.”
“They did. Didn’t stop them from worrying, but they and my sister were super supportive.” Gus sat back against the truck’s doors. “Pops kept after me to get certified as a paramedic. Said it’d be good to have a fallback, just in case, and I did like paramedicine, just not as much as firefighting. We didn’t talk about why I’d need a medic’s cert, though. Until we had to.”
Turning his head, Gus met Walters’ gaze. “There was a fire in a brownstone in the South End,” he said. “The engine and ladder crews had it contained, and rescue went in to extricate someone from the top floor. The staircase collapsed as we made our way down and we fell, all of us.”
Walters’ mouth dropped open on a soft gasp and Gus turned his eyes on the still dark sky above them. There was too much light coming from the hospital to see stars, but he knew they were up there.
“I lost my leg and one of my brothers that day,” he said. “His name was Beni.”
“Shit, Gus. I’m so sorry. That fucking sucks.”
Gus’d never found the words to adequately describe the enormity of what had happened to him. The terror of feeling the floor open beneath his feet, swallowing him and the crew. Pain like a living thing. Waking up in the hospital to find his career fucked and Beni dead.
Setting his cup on the bumper, he pulled out his phone, aware his hands were shaking as he flipped through his pics to one of Beni in his turnout gear. Beni was brandishing a Halligan tool and mugging for the camera, all dimples and blithe grin, and the grief Gus still carried smacked into him, so raw it left him breathless. He showed the photo to Madoc who nodded, then surprised the hell out of Gus by reaching over to set a hand on Gus’s shoulder. The contact gave Gus something to focus on until he felt less like he might weep or punch the side of the truck really hard.
“Everything changed after that,” he said. “Technically, I could have gone back to firefighting, maybe doing a different kind of job inside Boston Fire or for another department altogether. But I didn’t want that and was lucky to have family and a partner who wanted to help me figure out what came next.” Gus paused. “You’re not going to get weird if I talk boyfriends, are you?”
“No.” Walters gave Gus’s shoulder a squeeze before letting go. “I’m good with you being queer, honest.”
Gus nodded. “Ian helped me get back on my feet. He’s a nurse and good friends with Mark Mannix, actually. Ian and my folks were there for me while I started over. New leg, new career, new Super Gus life,” he said with a smile he knew fell flat based on the regret that crossed Walters’ face.
“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”
“You didn’t.” Leaning over, Gus set his elbows on his knees. “I’m never going to like talking about what happened to me, but I’m not ashamed of my life or my career, and definitely not embarrassed about my leg. You can ask or not ask me about it and you and I will be fine.”
“Cool.” Walters frowned slightly, and a beat passed before he continued. “I do have a question actually, but it isn’t about your leg.”
“Okay?”
“Do you even like being called Super Gus?”
“Honestly, no.” Gus smirked. “But I know you’ll appreciate that I got the nickname when I was a probie with Boston Fire and haven’t been able to shake it.”
Mischief shone in Walters’ eyes when he smiled. “Sorry, not sorry. But I could promise to forget your nickname if you do the same for mine …?”
“Yeah, no.” Gus laughed at his partner’s mock pout. “Nice try, Probie, but that isn’t happening.”