Chapter 6 Hidden Wounds
After Midnight
The town had settled into the quiet rhythm that only arrived after midnight.
Storefronts stood dark behind locked doors, porch lights cast warm circles across front lawns, and the only movement came from the occasional patrol car cruising slowly through residential neighborhoods.
Rain had stopped hours earlier, leaving the roads slick enough to reflect every streetlight like ribbons of gold stretching across the pavement.
It had been another long shift.
Nothing unusually dramatic.
A diabetic emergency.
A fractured wrist at a construction site.
An elderly woman struggling to breathe after an asthma attack.
The kind of calls that demanded complete attention without making tomorrow's newspaper.
Julian preferred nights like these.
Lives were still changed.
People were still helped.
Everyone simply went home afterward.
The radio broke the silence.
"Medic Six, before returning to station, proceed to Cooper Auto Repair. Dispatch has approved an after-hours inspection. Driver reports intermittent vibration in the front suspension."
Julian reached for the microphone.
"Medic Six copies."
He glanced toward Owen sitting in the passenger seat.
"You feel anything?"
Owen shrugged.
"Maybe."
"Could've been the road."
"Could've been nothing."
Julian nodded.
"Or it could become something."
They both understood the unspoken meaning.
Neither of them looked at ambulance maintenance the same way anymore.
Twenty minutes later, Cooper Auto Repair came into view.
The large garage doors were already open.
Bright white lights spilled across the empty parking lot while classic rock drifted quietly from an old radio somewhere inside the building.
Jax had apparently anticipated their arrival.
The mechanic stood near Bay One wearing faded jeans and a charcoal work shirt with the sleeves rolled above his forearms. Grease streaked one side of his face, and a flashlight rested in the pocket over his chest.
He looked tired.
Not exhausted.
Simply like a man who measured his days by completed repairs instead of hours slept.
As Rig 6 rolled into the bay, Jax motioned toward the vehicle lift.
"Leave it right there."
Julian shut off the engine and climbed down.
"Evening."
Jax smiled faintly.
"I think technically it's morning."
Julian glanced toward the clock mounted above the workbench.
"Fair point."
Owen stretched his back before grabbing his duffel bag.
"I'll call someone from Station Six for a ride."
Jax looked toward him.
"I've only got one bay open."
"It'll probably take an hour."
Owen nodded.
"No rush."
He looked between the two men with a knowing grin that vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.
"I'll wait in the office."
Julian watched him disappear upstairs.
"You've been busy?"
he asked.
Jax glanced around the garage.
"Three police cruisers."
"One fire engine."
"Now this."
"You?"
Julian let out a tired laugh.
"Six calls."
"No dinner."
"Cold coffee."
Jax nodded knowingly.
"So..."
"We're both living the dream."
The quiet joke earned a genuine smile from Julian.
"I was starting to think you didn't have a sense of humor."
"I keep it locked in a toolbox."
Julian folded his arms.
"Probably safer."
"It usually is."
Jax retrieved a hydraulic jack before kneeling beside the ambulance.
"Tell me exactly what you felt."
Julian described the vibration as precisely as he could.
"It starts around fifty."
"Disappears when slowing down."
"No pulling."
"No steering issues."
Jax listened without interrupting.
"You notice it after hitting potholes?"
"No."
"Braking?"
"No."
"Cornering?"
Julian shook his head.
"Only cruising."
Jax nodded thoughtfully.
"That helps."
Within minutes, the front of the ambulance rested securely on jack stands.
Julian stood nearby watching the mechanic work.
There was something strangely calming about observing someone completely immersed in their craft.
Every movement carried purpose.
Every tool returned to exactly the same place after use.
Nothing hurried.
Nothing wasted.
"You don't have to stay."
Jax said while checking suspension components.
Julian looked surprised.
"I know."
"But I don't mind."
"You trust me?"
The question slipped out before Jax realized he had asked it.
Julian answered without hesitation.
"Yes."
The simple certainty in that single word lingered longer than either of them expected.
Jax returned his attention beneath the ambulance.
"Good."
Several quiet minutes passed.
Only the occasional clink of metal tools interrupted the silence.
Julian wandered toward the old coffee machine near the office stairs.
"You want some?"
Jax laughed softly from beneath the ambulance.
"Depends."
"How strong is it?"
"I'm pretty sure the spoon stands up by itself."
"Then definitely."
Julian poured two steaming mugs before carrying one back.
Jax rolled out from beneath the vehicle, accepted the cup, and leaned against the workbench.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The silence didn't feel uncomfortable.
Outside, wind rustled the pine trees lining the back fence.
Inside, the garage felt unexpectedly peaceful.
Almost insulated from the rest of the world.
Julian broke the silence first.
"Do you ever leave this place?"
Jax looked around the garage.
"Sometimes."
"Does upstairs count?"
Julian smiled.
"Not really."
"I figured."
"You?"
Julian stared into his coffee.
"I've been trying."
"Trying what?"
"Starting over."
Jax waited.
He had already learned Julian answered difficult questions only after giving them careful thought.
"The city..."
Julian began quietly.
"...changed me."
He searched for the right words.
"I loved working there."
"I learned from incredible people."
"I became a better paramedic than I ever thought I could."
He paused.
"But somewhere along the way..."
"It stopped feeling like I was helping people."
"It started feeling like I was surviving one shift just to make it to the next."
Jax listened without interrupting.
"There was never enough time."
Julian continued.
"Too many calls."
"Too many patients."
"Too many moments where you had to choose who needed you first."
His fingers tightened slightly around the warm mug.
"I kept telling myself things would slow down."
"They never did."
"So I transferred."
"You wanted quieter roads."
Jax said gently.
Julian nodded.
"And quieter thoughts."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Jax understood more than Julian probably realized.
Not because he had worked inside an ambulance.
Because grief had taught him what exhaustion looked like when it settled permanently inside someone's eyes.
"What about your family?"
Jax asked.
"They're still in Chicago."
"You visit?"
"When I can."
"My mom calls every Sunday whether I answer or not."
Jax smiled.
"Sounds familiar."
"Your family?"
"My dad..."
He stopped himself for a heartbeat.
"...built this place."
Julian looked around the garage again.
"You've kept it exactly the way he wanted?"
"Mostly."
"Even the old radio?"
Jax glanced toward the shelf where classic rock continued playing softly.
He smiled.
"Especially the radio."
Julian laughed quietly.
"I like that."
Another comfortable silence settled between them.
Jax finally returned to work beneath the ambulance.
"Found it."
Julian walked over.
"What was it?"
"Sway bar bushing."
"Worn enough to vibrate."
"Not dangerous."
"But annoying."
"You'll replace it?"
"Already did."
Julian blinked.
"When?"
Jax slid out holding the old rubber bushing between two fingers.
"While we were talking."
Julian laughed.
"I completely missed that."
"You were busy."
"Thinking?"
"Remembering."
The words landed gently between them.
Julian nodded.
"Yeah."
"I was."
Jax handed him the worn component.
"You know..."
Julian said thoughtfully.
"I've told people I transferred because I wanted a slower station."
"And that's true."
"But it isn't the whole truth."
Jax remained silent.
Julian appreciated that he never rushed conversations.
"There are parts of my old life..."
he said quietly,
"...that I'm still not ready to talk about."
He looked toward the rain-speckled garage windows.
"Maybe someday."
"But not tonight."
Jax nodded once.
"You don't owe me an explanation."
The response caught Julian off guard.
Most people became curious.
Some pushed.
Others offered advice.
Jax simply accepted the boundary without making Julian feel guilty for drawing it.
For reasons Julian couldn't explain, that simple act of respect made him trust the mechanic even more.
Outside, the wind carried another light drizzle across the parking lot.
Inside the warm garage, surrounded by the scent of coffee, motor oil, and freshly turned steel, Julian realized he had just shared more about himself with Jax Cooper than he had with anyone since arriving in Ashcroft.
Some wounds still remained hidden.
But for the first time in a very long while, he found himself believing they might not stay hidden forever.
The Fire That Stayed
The rain returned quietly after one o'clock.
It wasn't the violent storm that had stranded Julian on Route 9 a week earlier.
This rain was softer, almost peaceful, tapping gently against the garage roof while the last of the day's work settled into silence.
The old radio continued playing low enough to become part of the background, blending with the occasional ticking sound of cooling engines.
Jax lowered Rig 6 from the lift and wiped his hands with a clean shop towel.
"The new bushing's installed. You shouldn't feel that vibration anymore."
Julian nodded appreciatively.
"I never actually saw you replace it."
Jax smiled.
"You were distracted."
"I guess I was."
Neither of them seemed eager to end the conversation.
The ambulance was ready to return to service.
Owen was still upstairs in the office watching an old baseball game with Tyler while waiting for the paperwork.
There was no reason for either of them to remain standing beside the workbench.
Yet neither man moved toward the ambulance.
Julian leaned lightly against the edge of the workbench, wrapping both hands around the mug that had long since gone cold.
"You've been doing this since you were a kid."
Jax nodded.