Chapter 14 The Fire Within
Breaking Point
Gideon had always been good at holding things in.
It was one of the skills people admired in him.
He could walk into a burning building while everyone else was running out.
He could stand beside a grieving family and speak calmly when his own hands were shaking.
He could hear an alarm in the middle of the night, get dressed, check his equipment, and climb onto the truck without allowing anyone to see the memories that came with the sound.
He could survive.
That was what everyone called it.
Survival.
Gideon had never thought of it that way.
To him, survival had always felt like an unpaid bill.
Six years of waking up with smoke in his lungs.
Six years of remembering Marcus’s voice.
Six years of looking at the scars covering his body and seeing the same night reflected back at him.
Six years of believing that every good thing he experienced had to be balanced against the fact that someone else had died.
He had carried it so long that he had stopped noticing the weight.
Until now.
The breaking point came without warning.
There had been another meeting with Elena that afternoon.
The investigation had moved quickly after Nico’s discovery.
The name Elias Voss had opened several doors that had been closed for years.
Old contracts were being reviewed. Former employees were being contacted.
Investigators were examining the relationship between contractors who had worked on South Harbor and companies currently involved in major construction projects.
Every new discovery brought more questions.
Every question led back to the warehouse.
And every path through the warehouse eventually led back to Gideon.
By the time he returned to the firehouse, his head was pounding.
He went straight to the locker room.
The station was unusually quiet.
Gideon opened his locker and stared at the contents without seeing them.
His helmet sat on the shelf.
His gloves were beside it.
Everything was exactly where it belonged.
He reached for the gloves.
His hands started shaking.
He stopped.
For a moment, he thought he could control it.
He had controlled worse.
He pressed his palms against the metal locker.
The shaking continued.
Then he heard a voice behind him.
“Gideon.”
He closed his eyes.
Nico.
Of course.
He should have known Nico would notice.
Gideon turned slowly.
Nico stood near the doorway.
He had probably come from the studio. His jacket was still on, and his hair was slightly windblown. He looked tired.
He also looked concerned.
Gideon immediately wanted him gone.
Not because he didn’t want Nico there.
Because he wanted him there too much.
“I’m fine.”
Nico did not answer.
That was becoming one of the things Gideon trusted about him.
Nico never accepted the first lie simply because it was offered confidently.
“You’re shaking.”
“I know.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
Gideon looked at him.
The question should have been easy.
Instead, something inside him broke.
“No.”
The word came out rough.
Nico stayed where he was.
He did not approach.
Gideon looked down at his hands.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
Nico’s expression changed.
He took one careful step forward.
Gideon did not move away.
“I thought I could,” Gideon said. “I thought if I worked hard enough, if I kept moving, if I kept doing everything right, eventually it would stop.”
His voice cracked.
“It never stopped.”
Nico remained silent.
Gideon laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“Everyone keeps telling me I’m strong.”
His eyes burned.
“I don’t feel strong.”
Nico said quietly, “You don’t have to.”
Gideon looked at him.
Something about those words made his control disappear.
He turned away.
His shoulders shook.
“I heard him.”
Nico waited.
“I heard Marcus.”
Gideon’s voice was barely audible.
“I still hear him.”
He pressed both hands against his face.
“He was alive.”
Nico did not interrupt.
“He was alive, Nico.”
The words came faster now.
“I went back because I heard him. I knew the order. I knew the building was going down. I knew the risk. But I thought I could get him out.”
His breathing became uneven.
“I thought I had enough time.”
He lowered his hands.
“I didn’t.”
Nico stood quietly across from him.
Gideon looked at the floor.
“The roof came down.”
His voice broke completely.
“I couldn’t move him. I couldn’t get him out. I couldn’t even reach him properly.”
He swallowed.
“I kept telling him I was going to get him out.”
The tears came before he could stop them.
Gideon hated them.
He hated the weakness of them.
He hated that Nico could see.
But more than anything, he hated that he had spent six years pretending he didn’t need anyone to see.
“I told him I wasn’t leaving.”
Nico’s eyes filled with quiet sadness.
“I told him I would come back for him.”
Gideon shook his head.
“I survived.”
The words sounded like an accusation.
“I walked out.”
He looked down at his scarred arms.
“He didn’t.”
Nico finally moved closer.
He stopped several feet away.
Gideon looked at him through blurred vision.
“I don’t understand why it was me.”
Nico did not answer.
“Everyone says it was luck.”
Gideon laughed bitterly.
“Luck.”
He wiped his face with the back of his hand.
“What kind of luck leaves you alive when everyone else is dead?”
Nico took another step.
“Do you want me to touch you?”
Gideon closed his eyes.
The question was almost too much.
He nodded.
Nico crossed the remaining distance slowly.
He did not grab Gideon.
He did not pull him into an embrace without warning.
He placed one hand gently against Gideon’s upper arm.
Gideon flinched.
Nico immediately stopped.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t.”
Gideon’s voice broke.
“Don’t stop.”
Nico’s hand remained where it was.
The contact was steady.
Warm.
Intentional.
Gideon stared at it.
He had spent years associating touch with emergencies.
Hands pulling him through smoke.
Hands checking burns.
Hands holding him down while wounds were treated.
Hands gripping his shoulder while someone told him Marcus was gone.
Nico’s hand did none of those things.
It asked nothing.
It demanded nothing.
It simply stayed.
Gideon’s breathing became ragged.
“I don’t deserve this.”
Nico looked at him.
“Deserve what?”
“This.”
Gideon gestured helplessly.
“Someone caring.”
Nico’s expression softened.
“Why?”
“Because I lived.”
The words were almost a whisper.
Nico understood immediately.
Gideon looked away.
“I’ve been paying for it.”
Nico stayed silent.
“Every day.”
Gideon swallowed.
“I thought if I worked enough, if I saved enough people, if I never complained, if I never asked for anything, maybe eventually I’d have paid enough.”
His eyes filled again.
“But I don’t think the debt ends.”
Nico’s hand tightened gently against his arm.
“Who told you there was a debt?”
“No one.”
Gideon looked at him.
“I did.”
That answer hurt more than anything else.
“I decided that if I survived, then I had to make it worth something.”
Nico’s eyes stayed on his face.
“That sounds exhausting.”
Gideon gave a broken laugh.
“It is.”
For several seconds, there was only the sound of Gideon’s breathing.
Then he said, “I’m angry.”
Nico nodded.
“I know.”
“I’m angry at the people who caused this.”
“I know.”
“I’m angry at Marcus.”
Gideon immediately looked ashamed.
“I know that’s terrible.”
“No.”
Nico’s answer was firm.
“It’s not.”
Gideon looked at him.
“I’m angry because he died,” Gideon said. “I’m angry because he told me to leave. I’m angry because I listened too late. I’m angry because I can’t change any of it.”
His voice rose.
“I’m angry at myself.”
He struck the locker with the side of his fist.
Nico did not flinch.
“I’m angry that I still wake up. I’m angry that I can laugh sometimes. I’m angry that I can want something.”
His voice collapsed.
“I’m angry that I love you.”
Nico went very still.
Gideon froze.
The words hung between them.
He had not meant to say them like that.
But they were true.
He loved Nico.
And loving him frightened Gideon more than any fire ever had.
“I’m sorry.”
Nico shook his head.
“Don’t apologize.”
Gideon covered his face again.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“You don’t have to know tonight.”
“I don’t know how to stop feeling guilty.”
“You don’t have to stop tonight.”
“I don’t know how to live with it.”
Nico moved closer.
“Then live with it tonight.”
Gideon looked at him.
“Just tonight?”
“Just tonight.”
Nico opened his arms slightly.
He did not assume.
Gideon stared at him.
Then he stepped forward.
The moment Nico’s arms came around him, Gideon’s body went rigid.
His instincts screamed at him to pull away.
But Nico did not tighten his hold.
He simply waited.
Gideon exhaled.
The sound turned into a sob.
Then another.
His forehead dropped against Nico’s shoulder.
For the first time in six years, Gideon allowed someone to hold him while he cried.
There was no speech.
No promise that everything would be okay.
No claim that Marcus’s death had a purpose.
Nico did not tell him that he should forgive himself.
He did not tell him that the past did not matter.
He simply held him.
And Gideon finally stopped fighting the comfort.
His hands gripped the back of Nico’s jacket.
“I miss them.”
“I know.”
“I miss who I was.”
Nico rested his cheek lightly against Gideon’s hair.
“You don’t have to become who you were again.”
Gideon closed his eyes.
“What if I don’t know who I am without this?”
“Then we’ll figure out who you are now.”
Gideon breathed slowly.
The word we should have frightened him.
Instead, it gave him somewhere to rest.
They stayed like that for a long time.
Eventually, Gideon’s breathing settled.
His face was wet.
His chest hurt.
Nothing had been fixed.
Marcus was still dead.
The warehouse fire had still happened.
The scars were still there.
The investigation was still dangerous.
His fear had not disappeared.
But for the first time, Gideon understood that comfort did not erase grief.
It simply meant he did not have to carry grief alone.
He lifted his head.
Nico looked at him.
“I meant what I said.”
“About loving me?”
Gideon nodded.
Nico reached up and gently wiped a tear from his cheek.
“I know.”
Gideon looked at Nico’s hand.