Prologue

March 6, 2016.

Sighing, I take a large sip of my coffee while I force my eyes to stay open by focussing on the magazine that's lying in front of me. Autocar magazine is not something I'm normally reading with great interest and it's probably why I've read the same sentence six times already. It's about the three best-sold cars in 2016 and I honestly couldn't care less.

Next to me, Alex's head is leaning on his hand, his eyes closed as well. Across from me, Jason and Carol are fighting against the same problem as me. It's my third night shift in a row and after this one, I'll have two more.

It's a quiet night. Too quiet if you ask me and I'm waiting for the storm to arrive. It's a little past two in the morning, and up until now, we've only had a small incident with a bonfire that got out of hand around eleven. It took ten minutes for us to get it under control, and another five after that to put it out. It took more time to make sure all the teenagers that were present at the bonfire got home safe and sound.

I don't mind working nights but shifts like this are dreadful and more tiring than ones on which we're constantly busy. When I'm busy, I don't feel the tiredness that's lurking around the corner because the adrenaline overpowers the feeling.

"How's the little one doing, Grey?" Carol's question pulls me out of my half-slumber, and it immediately brings a smile to my face.

One of the other reasons the nights are heavier than a few weeks go is that three weeks ago I became a father for the second time. Not surprisingly, a newborn and a two-and-a-half-year-old toddler pull the energy out of you.

These are the first nightshifts since Nadia gave birth, and since the past three weeks included little sleep, I wish I was back home with them. It's weird and new for Nadia too since I'm not around to help her with the baby and a toddler who is still getting used to the new situation.

"She's perfect," I beam. "She drinks sleeps and cries when she's supposed to. She fits in as if she was always there."

Carol smiles when she sees my proud expression. "And what does her big brother think of everything?"

I chuckle as I think back to the moment we brought Phoebe home. After a very good delivery, Nadia and Phoebe were allowed to leave the hospital after five hours. Teddy was at home, waiting for us with my parents whom we called as soon as Nadia felt contractions. When we walked in, he jumped from the couch and stuck his nose in the car seat. He couldn't wait to meet his little sister.

When Nadia took Phoebe out of the seat, Ted ran back to the couch and opened his arms. The moment she placed Phoebe in his arms, he wouldn't let her go and kept giving her kisses on her small head. It's one of my most treasured memories and I still choke up thinking about it.

"Already spoiling her rotten," I chuckle. "He wants to help with everything, even when Nadia is nursing her. He is perfect too."

Just like Nadia. Nadia is fucking perfect too. She's an amazing wife and the sweetest mother. Every time I see her with Ted and Phoebe, I fall in love with her all over again.

"You're a lucky bastard, Grey," Taylor, who followed the conversation as well, says. "Beautiful wife, healthy kids."

I remember when I took Nadia to one of the station's Christmas parties. All the fuckers, including Taylor and Alex, were drooling when they saw Nadia walk in. All the attention went to her in a nanosecond, and she didn't even notice. Her eyes were on me while she giggled something about the truck that was standing outside, effortlessly showing everybody exactly who she is. I was so fucking proud to introduce her as my wife.

I nod my head, a huge grin covering my face. "Completely agree."

Just after, or maybe even while the words leave my mouth, a piercing alarm fills the space, making all of us jump from our chairs and get to the action right away, forgetting all about the heavy eyelids and the conversation.

I follow my three colleagues down the stairs, sprinting while my heartbeat fastens with the second. As always, the adrenaline starts to run through my body. No matter how many times I've been through this, the rush is always there. It's the anxiety of what we're about to see at the scene, the concentration of doing the job right.

When we arrive in the changing room downstairs, everything that we need is already waiting for us. I kick off my shoes and step into my boots, pulling my uniform up in one swift motion right after. With helmet in hand, I run towards the truck where I take place on the passenger's seat.

As always, we have a division of tasks and today it's Alex's job to drive us to the scene. He is the last one to enter the truck, and not a second later the doors in front of the truck open. It took us less than two minutes to get ready.

"FF273 ready to depart, over," Alex says to the control room which is in direct contact with us through radio to give us information.

"FF273 copy. A large fire in a family home in Bellevue. Among the people that are inside are children. The approximate travel time is twelve minutes. The address is sent to your truck's GPS," the woman on the other end says hastily.

Every time I hear it's an incident in Bellevue, a shiver runs through me. I grew up there, and I never left. My parents, brother, sister, and friends live there as well, and I always do a little sketch prayer in hopes it's not someone I know.

"Copy that," Alex answers. "We're heading there now."

Sirenes blast in my ears as Alex hits the gas and turns left the moment he drives out of the station. Right at that moment, the navigation system beeps, telling us the exact route we need to take along with the address.

And I'm almost having a heart attack.

1072 Bellevue Park Lane, Northwest Bellevue.

For a moment I can't move. I'm completely frozen. The only thing I'm capable of is blinking. I blink, and blink, and blink, hoping that what I'm reading on the navigation isn't correct. That I've read the number wrong or that the control room made some horrible mistake but the longer I look, the more I realize that what I'm seeing isn't a hallucination. It's real.

"That's my house." I don't recognize my voice. I don't even register me saying it out loud. I'm sweating and I feel like throwing up.

"What?" Alex's eyes find mine. They are wide, full of horror while they beg me to tell him I'm making some cruel joke.

"That's my address. That's where I live." My voice is louder now, the panic clearly audible behind the words. ''I need to get to them, drive faster Goddamnit," I growl, suddenly feeling the huge need to kick Alex out of my way and drive there myself.

"Fuck," Alex curses while his hand beckons to the back, "did you two hear that?"

I don't register the reaction of Carol and Taylor. All I hear is the woman's voice that told us about the scene. A family house on fire, children inside.

My family. My children. My wife.

I'm vaguely aware that Alex is calling for back-up before he explains the situation. I hear him say that it might not be a good idea to let me get near the scene. He couldn't be more wrong.

"Speed the fuck up, Alex." My tone is aggressive and harsh, the volume loud. Were I felt frozen moments ago, I'm now shaking.

I need to get to them.

I feel that Alex hits the gas. I see my surroundings passing by in flashes which tells me that he is breaking all the rules and speed limits to get me there as fast as possible, but it's not fast enough.

Seven more minutes of doing absolutely nothing while my wife is in that house. While my children are in that house. My whole life.

"Grey, you might want to stay inside when we arrive." It's Carol, who's hand is resting on my shoulder. I want to ignore her. I want to scream at her and ask her if she is insane. I want to punch her in the Goddamn face for even suggesting it.

"I won't," is all I growl. "I'm going in."

"Grey-"

"NO. No. Fucking NO," I interrupt her, silencing the whole truck. "I'm going in. Fucking drive fucking faster."

Four minutes.

It's silent for a moment, the sound of my heartbeat probably the only thing audible along with the loud sirens. My eyes go from the clock to the road. I've driven this way so many times, happy that I was done with my shift. Happy that I'd go back to her. Nadia.

Two minutes.

"FF273, back up, ambulance and police are on their way. They'll arrive approximately five minutes after you at the scene. You're handling first."

I put on my helmet and gloves, unbuckling my seatbelt right after that. I can already see the orange shielded sky the distance, and my stomach drops. Without even seeing it properly, I can tell it's bad.

"Grey, stay focussed and think about the protocol. Don't do anything reckless," Taylor calls from behind, grabbing my shoulder hard, trying to squeeze through the thick fabric of my fire-resisted uniform.

I don't answer. I can't because as soon as we turn around the corner at high speed, my house comes into view and everything flies out the window. Protocol, common sense, safety, and division of tasks, they all fade. The only thing I feel is the immense urge to get in there and save my wife. Save children.

The closer we get, the brighter the light gets as well. Flames are coming through the windows on the first floor on the right side of the house. It's where the laundry room and the nursery are located, and a wave of nausea washes over me.

My eyes move to the left side of the house rapidly, where the master bedroom and Ted's room are located. The two windows at that side seem fire-free, and a short feeling of relief washes over me. Thank God the baby still sleeps in our room.

The whole street is full of neighbors that are looking at my house in horror. Hands are clasped in front of their mouth, eyes wide as they watch how the flames try to take away my whole life.

Before the truck comes to a proper halt, I jump out of it without an actual plan in mind. I'm vaguely aware of my colleagues who are yelling at me to wait for them, but I ignore them.

Instinct takes over completely. I need to get to my wife. To my children.

When I reach the door, I kick it in without effort. All my muscles work together, my whole body on high alert. When I run in, I notice that the fire hasn't reached the main floor yet which is logical since it will go up first.

"NADIA!" I yell, running to the stairs as I do. To my horror, I feel the heat become worse the closer I get and when I arrive at the stairs, I see anger flames greeting me at the top of it.

I take off my helmet in order to hear better. The crackling of the fire seems harder than normal; it's intimidating all of a sudden.

"NADIA!" My scream is primal, the fear taking over.

"Christian?!"

My eyes widen as I hear her voice in the far distance. It's coming from upstairs and before I know it, I feel my feet move. Without thinking, I run up the stairs, taking three steps at the time. My hands move to my face automatically when I seemingly effortlessly jump through the flames that are raging at the top of the stairs.

I sprint through the hall, taking a left turn to our bedroom where I find her standing in the farthest corner, wearing her white tank top and one of my boxers. Her face is pale, her forehead wet with sweat while she is shaking uncontrollably, her expression oozing pure fear.

In her left arm, she is holding a crying Phoebe as close to her chest as possible. Leaning against her, with her right arm firmly wrapped around him is Teddy, his purple elephant in his hand while he cries uncontrollably, the extreme fear audible which breaks my heart into a million pieces.

"Christian," Nadia breathes.

In two strides I'm with them, throwing my helmet on the floor before crushing all three of them against me in a pure, overwhelming need to feel that they are okay and real.

"I'm here,". I mumble against her head, breathing in her scent. Her long hair smells like raspberries and home. My home. My life.

"The stairs... We can't take them... I tried," she starts, her eyes wide and full of fear.

"I know," I tell her, grabbing her cheek with one hand. "I know, baby. I'm getting us out of here. Do as I say and stay with me. Stay close to me."

She nods her head, tears streaming down her cheeks, lip trembling. I kiss her roughly, needing it more than anything right now, promising her with my eyes that I'll get her out of here, and to let me know that she hears me, she nods her head.

I get to my knees so I'm facing Ted, grabbing his cheeks to make him look at me. His wet, green eyes are wide and consumed with panic and fear, and he barely reacts when he sees me.

"I'm here. Daddy is here. It's going to be okay," I mumble against his head before I lift him up, holding him tight against me as I turn around. "Follow me."

I walk to the door with the intention to run through the flames just like I did when I came up, but when I see that the fire has reached the hall and is blocking us in, I know immediately that I can't get them out through that way.

"Fuck," I curse under my breath. "Back away."

Nadia does as she is told while I throw the door shut, hoping that it'll keep the fire out long enough even though I know it's only a matter of minutes.

With a crying Teddy still in my arms, I move towards the large window to my right, the one that I saw from the truck. I open it easily, thanking God that I didn't put on the extra locks that Nadia bought. When I look down, I see that Carol and Taylor are already busy with the water hoses, while Alex is working on putting a ladder under the window.

I turn around to face Nadia, who is standing just inches from me. "We're going out through this window."

She nods in agreement while her eyes tell me the opposite. "How? I can't. Christian, how? I have Pheebs."

"I'll help you. It's going to be fine. Trust me." Right after the words have left my mouth, the door of the bedroom flies opens due to the heat, the flames fighting to get in.

Nadia screams while she turns her back towards the fire, protecting Phoebe by wrapping her against herself completely.

I turn around in a panic, and to my relief, I'm faced with Alex. "Hand him over," he says immediately, holding his arms open to take Teddy from me. While Teddy loudly kicks and screams, I hand him to Alex, who holds him easily with one hand.

"We don't have much time," I say, my voice hard to make sure Alex hears me above the loud crackling of the fire.

"Get on the ladder. We don't have time to put up another one. I'll be quick."

I nod my head before I watch him head down while he holds my son secure. When I turn around again, the fire is so close that my face burns horribly. Nadia is facing me, her head cast down and eyes closed, her arms still wrapped around our little girl.

"We need to get down. Give me Phoebe. I'll take her down the ladder."

She opens her eyes, and I immediately notice that the smoke is getting to her. She is gasping for air, coughing while her watery eyes are red.

I grab both of her upper arms, squeezing hard. "Breathe baby. Come on. Stay with me."

She nods, but she doesn't listen to what I say. In the meantime, the fire is too close, and panic is starting to take over as my eyes go from my wife to the fire behind her.

Nadia sees me looking, and while she still struggles with her breathing, she gives me Phoebe before she waves her hand towards the window, telling me that I need to go first.

"Nadia," I desperately growl, my eyes tearing up both because of the heat and because I want her safe.

"I'll follow you," she squeaks with trouble.

For a second I hesitate, but then the piercing cry of my daughter snaps me out of it. "You follow me. You fucking follow me, Nadia," I yell in a growl, earning another nod from her.

I take deep breaths and turn around, climbing out the window deftly with Phoebe pressed against my chest. Nadia has put the blanked she lies in over her nose and mouth loosely, in hopes she doesn't inhale the smoke, and the love I feel for my wife suddenly overwhelms me. Even when she is struggling to breathe herself, she still thinks about our daughter.

When I'm standing on the ladder and as I take a few steps down, my eyes go to Nadia again. I expect her to stand right in front of the window, ready to get onto the ladder as well, but panic consumes me when I don't see her.

"NADIA!"

Nothing. Silence except for the crackling fire.

"NADIA!"

Again silence, only this time another cry from my daughter orders me to move down further.

"I COME BACK, BABY!" I shout, my voice breaking. I can't leave her there, but I need to be Phoebe back down first.

My feet move down the ladder as fast as possible. It seems to take ages, but within seconds I reach the ground. There, I immediately hand Phoebe to one of the paramedics that are standing there.

Without saying anything else, I run up the ladder again, ignoring all the shouts of my colleagues and other professionals that tell me not to do it.

I have to get to her. I can't leave her there.

The flames are only a few feet from the window when I reach it, and when I look inside, I see Nadia laying on the floor. Her eyes are closed, her body completely still.

I jump in, ignoring the sharp burn on my face and body and lift Nadia over my shoulder before I get out of the window again. The whole action takes one second, but faith leaves my veins when I feel my wife's limp body hanging over my shoulder.

''Stay with me, baby," I mumble while I move down. It's like a mantra I can't stop. "Stay with me. I need you. Don't leave me. You're so strong and brave. I love you."

The moment my feet hit the ground, hands take her from my shoulder. My chest burns, as does my face and my eyes, but it doesn't stop me from following the paramedics immediately.

They have placed her on the stretcher that was standing close by, and while they roll her to the ambulance, I hear both Ted and Phoebe cry. It's a relief but the sight of my wife still makes me fear the worst.

They roll her into the ambulance and I jump in it too, pushing a paramedic out of my way so I can make my way to her. When I'm next to her, I grab her hand and squeeze it for dear life, hoping it will make her react.

"Come on, baby," I tell her while I see how they place a cap over her nose and mouth, no doubt helping her with the breathing. In the moments after that, they cut open her tank top and place sensors on her chest to check her heartbeat.

My eyes move over her form once, noticing the burns on the back of her arms when the paramedic moves her a little. It cuts through me like a knife and just as I want to tell the paramedics about them, a sharp beep sounds through the car.

My head shoots up in alarm, and I immediately know it's bad news when I'm shoved out of the way by a man who is starting to give my wife CPR. He presses on her chest, cracking her ribs while his colleague is counting.

"No. No. No," is all I can say. "Goddamnit, Nadia, no!"

I'm frozen as I watch my biggest nightmare turn into reality.

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two.

The counts seem to go in slow motion, the sharp beep getting heavier and heavier, invading my senses while Nadia doesn't move.

"Defibrillation," I hear the man across me say, and before I register it, two pads are pressed to my wife's chest. "Clear."

The shock sends her body from the stretcher for a moment, and I hold my breath, hoping that she'll open her eyes.

Nothing.

"Clear." Boom. Second shock.

Again nothing.

My vision begins to blur and my throat seems to tighten while my brain can only repeat her name over and over.

Nadia. Nadia. Nadia.

"Clear."

Nothing.

"FUCK, NADIA COME ON!" My voice is hard, raw, and it's lost every familiarity.

"Clear."

Shock after shock is sent through her, the paramedics now seemingly affected as well by her lack of reaction. In the corner of my eye, I see the man next to me steal a glance in my way, his forehead covered in sweat.

"Clear."

Nothing.

The man across from me looks at the man next to me. I notice he subtly shakes his head, and in response, his colleague nods knowingly.

"Sir, I'm so-"

"Don't you fucking dare," I growl, shoving him away from Nadia before I start pushing onto her chest, giving her heart massage myself."

"Don't you fucking dare," I repeat, this time to Nadia. The words come out in heavy, strangled sobs, my motions starting to get uneven as emotion takes control over my body.

"Nadia, don't. Come back to me." It's out in a heavy, barely-there whisper. My arms seem to lose their strength as I crash onto her, my head on her chest. "Come back to me, baby. I can't lose you."

"Let's leave him for a moment," one of the paramedics say before I hear them walk out.

I want to call them back in. I want to order them to keep going. I want to demand them to bring her back to me. But I know, as my head lies on her silent, completely flat chest, that there is nothing they can do.

I move my head up, tears streaming down as I remove the cap from her mouth and nose. She looks so pale already. Her eyes are closed, her dark-brown hair almost looking black now that her skin is so ashen.

I move my hands to her cheeks and feel to my horror that they're starting to get cold already too. I place my mouth on hers, mumbling to her that she can't do this, but it's no use.

She is gone. I couldn't save her. My beautiful wife. She's gone.

"I can't do this without you, Nadia. I can't. I need you. I love you too much to let go."

It's the last thing I say before I close my eyes, wrap my arms around her and pull her against me as close as possible while the warmth leaves her body for good.

I couldn't save her.

A/N: This plot has been bugging me for almost three weeks, and yesterday I just had to write it down because I needed it out of my system in order to concentrate on my other work. I'm not updating this any further until The Senior is finished because I simply suck at dividing my attention and because I love The Senior too much for now. I'm just curious what you think of this, so let me know if you see this going somewhere! Xx Milou.