"SABRINA, we've gotten the all clear from our hosts. Can you forward our current status to Starwatch HQ via the Zoah Relay Network?"
"Affirmative, Captain Andrews."
---
Just Spider Troupe, their probationary squad (Pseudo)AI, and some aliens(?).
A wip from last year that I wasn't feeling but thought still might be a nice enough visual to finish up somewhat.
[1,718 words]
[teen and up audiences]
[beta'ed by @meloingly]
[mateo chavez, judd ryder, captain tatum (house 129), captain andrews (house 122)]
[character study, angst, spoilers for s03e02, mentions of collapsed buildings, mentions of rescues, mateo-centric]
[the fire has robbed him of so many things. the fire gave and the fire took, and mateo isn't about to let the flames burning in his soul consume him without having fought back.]
the fire within | on ao3
a sense of family series
Mateo wakes up every morning right with his alarm. He gets out on the bed, steps into the ensuite bathroom in the room that was TK’s but it's now his, brushes the morning breath out of his teeth, and comes back outside ready to make the bed. It's his routine — his schedule for every single day that he's got a shift, no matter his schedule, he never fails. It's simple and yet effective; he's never been late a day in his life, not even when his teachers back at school thought he wasn't the most brilliant pea in the pod and he was lacking motivation. He likes having a structure in his life, and he's been thankful for his ingrained habit ever since the 126 station had been red-tagged for demolition.
He wakes up. He brushes his teeth. He makes his bed. He has some oatmeal and orange juice. He grabs his keys and drives to the 129 firehouse every single shift.
He still feels empty inside.
Switching firehouses — being cast separately from the rest of his friends at the 126 — has taken a toll on him. It'd taken him so long to actually believe in himself, in his abilities, and he'd needed Captain Strand and his northern vision to flourish. He'd found a family in the 126, in the outcasts and the abandoned, in the diversity that painted every single corner of the building with bright colors of acceptance and tolerance. He’d felt like he belonged, for the first time in his life — like there was nothing wrong with him, like he was worthy of being loved. When the 126 got closed, the building fit for rezoning, he thought they had a chance at fighting. He thought they could overcome anything if they stayed together.
He’d been so wrong.
They’d drifted away from the very beginning. Paul, Judd and Marjan had been placed together at the 122, and TK and Nancy had followed Captain Vega first to save the world during a dust storm and then into the private sector so they could remain together. Captain Strand had accepted some position in the higher-up ranks as to be able to get the 126 up and running through a shortcut that, instead of working, backfired on them when Billy Tyson used Captain Strand’s arguments to demolish their hopes and their future.
Captain Strand had demolished Tyson with a well-placed right hook, and that had been the beginning of the end.
And he — he’d become stranded at the 129, with people who hadn’t respected them in the beginning, but who had learned to treat him like a human being after saving his new Captain’s life out of a sense of duty; not because he thought the Captain deserved to be saved when he’d given him so much grief, but because this was — is — who he really is. A first responder. A firefighter.
A damn hero like the movies he loves so much.
Not that he feels much like it right now, in front of the collapsed building that once was Providence Pasture Church, waiting on Captain Andrews from the 122 and Captain Tatum — his own Captain, now — to tell them what to do. He can’t stop replaying the exact moment when the building crumbled around Paul, engulfing his brother-in-fire and sequestering him from the light and the safety of the open spaces around the building. Objectively, he knows the dangers they all face every single day — he’s learned the hard way exactly what they might encounter out there during a call, after what happened to Tim — but it’s very different to see it happening to one of his own. With Tim, he’d been far from the scene, Captain Strand being the only one who actually witnessed the ball of fire impacting against Tim’s chest. With Paul, he’s seen first-hand the collapsed roof giving out beneath Paul; he’s been witness to Paul disappearing in a mist of rubble and dust.
It’s giving him a headache.
“Cap, we gotta get in there before USAR boys put a red tag on the whole building,” Judd is almost shouting at his Captain, who’s having none of that. Captain Andrews goes off about how it’d be safer for all people involved to let the building be red-tagged and start a snail-paced rescue who’d end up being a recovery instead. He sees the moment Judd snaps, the vein in his neck pulsating against his skin as he spits, “Well, with all due respect, Sir, that would take a couple of days.”
“That’s better than the roof of Damocles crashing down on your heads right now,” Captain Tatum retaliates, looking really satisfied at his punch line. His radio cracks to life, a voice requesting his attention, and that’s the moment Captain Andrews chooses to intervene again.
“Judd, you saw what happened the last time we went in. We don't even know Paul or that girl's status. Much less where they are in the pile.”
Judd looks crestfallen for a second, but if Mateo knows him well enough — and he does, because he’s grown up with the old 126 — Judd’s just gearing up for a comeback. “Okay, well, hey, Cap, Cap, Cap, Cap,” he begins, almost breathlessly, gesturing back to where Lindsey’s parents are shivering under the snow. “Hey, look, if we lose their little girl, I wanna be able to look 'em in the eye and say to 'em we did everything we could to save her. And right now,” he continues, “we cannot do that. However, if we go in there and we're quick and we tread lightly, we can take a look around before USAR shuts this whole scene down.”
There’s a pregnant silence, heavy with all the words that are kept unsaid between them, like a wordless conversation that Mateo is still trying to figure out. “Okay,” Captain Andrews concedes. “But if they make the call I want your word, you get your butts out of there right away."
For a moment, Mateo fears Judd's just going to flip off his Captain, but after some tense seconds, he says, "Deal."
Captain Tatum chooses that moment to come back, announcing that the 129 is required somewhere else — Mateo isn't paying enough attention. He's staring back at the building, debris and smoke in equal parts calling his name.
"Chavez," he hears Captain Tatum calling him. "You got a wax build-up? Your house is on the move."
Mateo stares back at him. Suddenly, the whole world has slowed down enough that he can feel the twitching of the Earth under the soles of his boots. He can feel the icy bite of the snow already plummeting from the skies. He dares a glance at the collapsed structure, the broken metal a heap of devastation in front of his eyes.
The fire has robbed him of so many things. The fire took the house he shared with his inconsiderate roommates, but it gave him a home with Captain Strand. The fire sent the 126 tumbling down in between well-placed explosions, but it provided him with a renewed sense of purpose. The fire destroyed Carlos’ condo, but it gave Mateo a new family to come back home to. But when the fire that burned deep within them had finally caught in flames around them — sending millions of sparks igniting around TK as Carlos finally walked out barely hours before Captain Strand made a beeline for Hill Country — then the fire had given Mateo anything but grief and despair.
The fire gave and the fire took, and Mateo isn't about to let the flames burning in his soul consume him without having fought back.
He’s a phoenix rising from the dust that settled in his soul when he got swept away from the place he called home. He’s a supernova ready to explode.
He makes the decision in the split second that takes him to understand the difference between duty and love.
"The 129 may be my house," he says clearly, shocking everyone. He’s staring at his captain straight in the eye. "But Paul's my family.” He takes a deep breath, but he’s not backing down. If anything, he’s soaring. “I have to help rescue him, sir.”
Captain Tatum lets his gaze roam over Mateo, his inquisitive eyes piercing through his armor of nonchalance and fortitude, as though they’re reading the very fabric of his soul. “You're a good kid, Chavez,” the captain says in an even voice. “Not a bright kid, but a good one.” Mateo resists the urge to roll his eyes and flinch at the same time, barely registering the sharp intake of breath that Judd generates by his side. “All right if he joins your command, Captain?” Captain Tatum ends up asking.
Captain Andrews almost snorts. “We'd be glad to have him.”
Mateo smiles broadly. He shouldn’t be this happy to be allowed to join a search party into a collapsed building, but Paul is inside — and Lindsey is too — and he has a duty to fulfill and a family to glue together. They might be scattered all over town — and in the case of TK and Carlos, who’s already left the scene to go save someone else somewhere else, the situation might be in critical condition — but Mateo knows that a family isn’t made by blood or physical closeness. A family is made by love and recognition. A family is made from the scratches the past has left in kindred spirits. A family is made by shared experiences and respect.
A family is a kaleidoscope of feelings — the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between — and he’s not about to let a member of his own behind, buried alive underneath rubble and snowflakes.
Mateo isn’t one to give up. Neither is Judd. Nor Paul.
“The 126 boys really are something, aren't they?” Captain Tatum quips before turning around and leaving the scene.
“It’s not just the boys,” Captain Andrews retorts in his wake. “All right, 122, let's get in there!”
Mateo doesn’t need to be told once.
He’s finally the superhero he’s always wanted to be. And, for once, he doesn’t need a cape. All he has is a helmet and a desire burning deep in his gut.
Maybe this time the fire within will not combust but simply light his path.
Omega, about Andrews: CAN WE KILL HIM?
Shadow: No!
Omega: I CAN MAKE IT LOOK LIKE AN ACCIDENT...
Shadow: ...
Shadow: How?
Rouge: Shadow!
Shadow: Alright, no...
