Warnings: swearing, corpse description, death, alcohol consumption
Context: When (Y/n) "Plushie" Adcox finds herself as part of the 17 rig, the same company as her father and close friend, Stephen McCaffrey, she soon finds that her job as a firefighter becomes infinitely more personal than it ever should've.
Masterlist
"Baby McCaffrey, fancy seeing you here!" I have to strain to be heard over the loud din in the bar, making my way over to the familiar figure.
Turning to face me in confusion, the dark-haired young man quickly recognises me, face splitting into a wide grin as he shifts over to let me have space beside him at the bar.
"(Y/n)! How're you doing?" Brian McCaffrey greets me, his eyes glittering with an unusual triumph.
"You know me, I'm surviving." I chuckle, clapping him on the back, "Say, what's this? You went back to the academy?"
Brian's smile falls a little, but doesn't go anywhere permanently, a new determination replacing the triumph from before as he nods.
"Yeah, graduated today." He informs me, calling the bartender over for a drink.
"Congrats, man! I'm glad you came back!" I watch as the man behind the counter comes over, a flash of recognition spreading across his face.
"Brian McCaffrey! Is that a Chicago Fire Department uniform I see?" He calls over the noise, slinging a tea towel over his shoulder.
"It is." Brian grins at the bartender, pointing to the beer he wants.
Pouring it, the man chuckles to himself, shaking his head.
"How long's this gonna last, McCaffrey?" He asks, smirking knowingly.
"Long as possible, my friend. It's in my blood." Brian replies evenly, quoting a line most of us have heard before.
"In your blood, huh?" The bartender gives an exaggerated nod, turning to a pinboard behind him, taking a few notes from it, "You mean like these?"
"Oh you kept those." Brian sounds a little defeated, but manages to keep his smile genial as I wink at him, knowing what's about to come.
The list is relatively long, Brian giving answers and reasons for each of his different careers, the beer staying untouched before him as he does so. It's amusing to watch, especially having known him for so long, a few of the excuses sounding incredibly familiar to me. One in particular has me holding back laughter, a certain incident, back when he was eleven, springing to my mind as he once again tries to fool the bartender into believing him, as he once tried with my father. It would appear that he's having more success now than he was back then.
The bartender is soon interrupted, Brian's name being called drawing both our attention away from the man behind the counter, the voice unfamiliar to me. Turning to face the newcomer, I look the graduate up and down, subtly, finding his eagerness amusing as he pushes his way over to us, a sealed envelope in his hands.
"Brian! Your assignment-" He begins, holding out his prize.
"The one-fifteen, right?" Brian cuts him off, smirking knowingly.
Lifting an eyebrow, I look at him, intrigued as to how he has "guessed" this.
Clearly, his friend is wondering the same, the young man giving Brian a suspicious look.
"How do you know? These are supposed to be sealed." He questions, passing Brian the opened envelope.
'Good guess," Brian shrugs, leaning in closer to mock whisper, "And a case of scotch to the captain."
Leaning back, I grin, rolling my eyes at his words: it's so typically him. His friend laughs, looking astounded at Brian's gall.
"You bastard!" He exclaims, knocking my friend's arm playfully before he looks at me, "I didn't realise you had a girl-"
"No, no, she's not my girlfriend!" Brian protests, just as I do the same, shaking my head to reinforce my point.
"He is not my boyfriend!" I say firmly, punching Brian's arm, "More like a brother."
He grins, rolling his eyes.
"Tim, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Tim." He introduces us, a pleasant smile fixing itself in place on my lips as I hold out a hand for Tim to shake.
"Nice to meet you." I greet him.
The young candidate takes my hand, shaking it firmly.
"Nice to meet you, too."
As we part, a commotion outside draws our attention, our heads snapping round at the sound of the familiar sirens and horns we all know well by now. Almost as if in unison, the congregated firefighters, or graduates, rush to get out of the doors, cheers flooding the street as two engines thunder past. With them, I grin and call out with them all, identifying one engine as they go past: the 46th.
Once they've gone past, I turn to find Brian and Tim, hoping to get them to follow after the rigs with me, though I quickly find that the former is not with us anymore. A quick scan easily locates him and a sigh goes through me as I see him talking to a familiar face, an idea entering my head. Finding Tim still beside me, I lean over and speak with him. As he listens, a grin curls onto his face and he nods enthusiastically, going to do as I say.
Not even a minute later, Brian finds himself being doused by a powerful spout of water, the freezing liquid easily drenching him. Holding the line steady, Tim laughs and cackles as he watches his friend being soaked, yelping as Brian suddenly tackles him to the ground. The line goes flying, spraying bystanders in a spray of icy water. Pushing aside my amusement for the minute, I quickly move to grab hold of it, easily regaining control of the loose line and shutting it off at the nozzle, gesturing for someone near the source to switch it off fully.
Returning to the sight of the two graduates wrestling on the ground, I laugh heartily before remembering what it is I wanted to do.
"Come on you guys! Let's go find those engines!" I yell at them, grinning as they quickly part and follow after me, running beside me as we pursue the direction of the rigs.
It doesn't take us long to locate them, a large gathered crowd easily drawing us to the right spot. Blue lights flash profusely, steam and smoke curling up from a blackened house, firefighters hurrying here and there around the facade of the building. There's already some press in amongst the civilians, flashing camera lights focused around a particular area: the car out the front.
Going closer, I see what they're so interested in, though I almost immediately wish I hadn't.
Death never gets much easier to see, and charred, blackened corpses are no exception, even if their features aren't recognisable. I step away from the sight of the body stuck through the windshield quickly, grimacing at the reek of burnt flesh, unable to move the morbid image of the gaping skull, with melted skin moulded over the contours of its surface, out of my head. Brian and Tim both stay a little longer, but I have to remove myself, looking instead to the firefighters present, only now realising exactly which rigs are at the scene.
The 46th, as I guessed before, and the 17th.
Having figured this out, I swivel my head around, trying to discern my father from the rush of moving firefighters, looking for the familiar nickname scrawled in white on his back. I can't see him for the moment, though I do spot another figure in the doorway to the house - one I know very well.
Beside me, Brian has also recognised him, swallowing as he watches the firefighter striding down the drive towards us, a triumphant smirk on his lips until he sees us, at which point it falls away. His line of direction changes, and he heads right for us, a grin replacing the smirk from before.
"Brian! What's this? You find a cool costume? Where's it from? A Halloween store?" Stephen McCaffrey greets his brother as he approaches, blue eyes glittering under the soot covering his face.
Brian rolls his eyes, unamused.
"Thanks for coming to my graduation, brother." He retorts, turning an irritated glare on his sibling.
Stephen only ignores him, looking to me instead.
"It's been a while, (Y/n). Where've you been?" He grins, regarding me carefully.
"Stuck at the 32nd." I reply, smiling back at him.
The two of us watch each other a little moment longer, until we give in to a familiar urge. Stephen is quick to wrap his arms around me, crushing me into his body as I do the same, his greasy clothing rubbing off onto my clean uniform. His grip is tight but reassuring, keeping me against him until I tap his back, knowing Brian is still there. Stephen lets me go, still smiling.
"It's good to see you, Plushie." He says, stepping back from me.
"You, too, Bull." I grin at the nickname, having always found it amusing that he remembers it.
"Not a single word for your brother." Brian comments from beside us, as sour about it as ever.
"Nope." Stephen pops the "p" sound, turning to look at his brother.
"Good thing I'll be at the other end of the city, then."
Stephen laughs, moving to walk back to his rig, turning once to speak to us again.
"See, that's where you're wrong. You're not in the 115th, you're with the 17th company." He smirks, "My company!"
He laughs again, head tilted back as he practically guffaws at the sight of Brian's expression.
"That's right! The captain wanted us both together!" Stephen chuckles, "One case of scotch, Brian? Really? You're getting cheap in your age!"
So I'm totally shipping Tim/Brian in Backdraft right? And this is one of my favorite scenes (of course the shower scene is amazing) But then...ohhhhh...I read another version of the script... ....sooooooo many things are going through my mind here.....WHY IS THERE NO FIC FOR THESE TWO?!
