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Ravi was used to hospitals. He was used to the uncomfortable beds, the nurses who smiled at him each morning, the way his parents always looked terrified whenever they thought Ravi couldn’t see them. They were stood on the other side of the glass wall, the wall that separated Ravi from the rest of the world, where the doctors would speak to his parents and rest a hand on their shoulders and shuffle his file around as they answered his parent’s questions one after another after another.
Ravi was used to the smell of antiseptic in the air, to the sealed shut windows in his room and the food carted in on a tray. Ravi was used to missing school, eleven years old without a best friend because no one really knew him, did they? How could they, when he’s spending half his life tucked away at a doctor’s office, at a hospital, strapped to machines and coughing his lungs up, slowly, carefully.
Ravi was used to thinking this would be his whole life. For however long it would last.
His mother pushed his hair back softly, singing something under her breath that Ravi remembers from when he was a lot younger, crying and sick and throwing up in the back of the car while his dad drove them furiously to the emergency room. He was too young then to think about it, but the thought haunts him now. He wonders if maybe it would be easier if his parents had another child, someone healthy and lovely and alive, a baby that wasn’t always sick, a kid who could ride his bike and go over for sleepovers with his friends and get into trouble for staying out late.
But then again, his mother would stare at him with so much love in her eyes, and his dad would grin and tell him silly jokes for hours to make him laugh, and Ravi is selfishly so glad he has them all to himself.
For however long he would last.
***
Who are you, another delivery guy? Did we forget to tip the first one?
“Funny. I’m Howard Han, new recruit. First d-”
“Right,” a uniform gets shoved at his chest, and he holds it awkwardly in his arms. His chest smarts a little at the blunt impact, but the guy in front of him is rolling his eyes and waving a hand around the station.
It’s his first day, his first time coming into a station and it being his. He’s not usually a sentimental guy, but there’s something sitting in his chest, a swirl of excitement, something new and bold and big waiting to come through.
“… Up there is the kitchen and lounge. Locker room’s back where you came in, around the corner on the left. Get changed and head up to see the Captain, rest of the team’s there,” the guy says to him, unamused and he’s shaking his head while he disappears up the stairs, apparently finished with the fifteen second tour he provided. The guy’s muttering something under his breath but Howard ignores it, shuffling past the trucks and goes to get changed. Squares his shoulders. Takes a deep breath.
He's worked hard to get here. He’s earned his place here. He’s going to make this work. He’s going to make them proud of him.
He wants to call Kevin.
He doesn’t. He gets changed, and walks up the stairs.
“Captain? I’m Howard Han, new recruit –”
Take care of the table. Clean the kitchen. The toilets.
You forgot the floors. And the trucks. I want to see my face shine in it.
Can you do anything right, Han? I told you to go buy groceries, looks like you can’t even do that correctly.
The food in his mouth tastes like ash, crumbling into nothing as he chews and chews and –
“Howie, you doing alright? How’s the 118 treating you? If you want, we can practice some stuff together sometime? Being a probie is kicking my ass, have you been timed on putting on your gear yet? Oh, flashcards! Those have been saving me, here, let me get you my new ones –”
Wash the dishes. Again. I don’t want to see a streak on there.
There’s not enough space at the table. You can sit over there.
No, your vacation is not approved. You’re not even finished with your probationary year yet and you want time off? You’re not cut out for this, clearly.
“Kevin, I’m sorry, I can’t pick you up from the hospital on Wednesday after your appointment, I’ve got a shift and –”
“Don’t sweat it, bro! You’re working so hard over there, I’ll ask mom. Oh, shit, that’s our alarm – have a good shift! Be safe, love you!”
You’ll be man behind, Han.
Man behind, Han.
Guess what you’ll be today, Han?
He’s the man behind.
***
It’s dumb. It’s so dumb. He shouldn’t be crying in bed at two in the morning, but it finally hit him.
Make-A-Wish.
“Honey, only if you want… okay? We can ask for you, see what they can do, but it’s always going to be your choice. Your father and I support you either way. We just want you to ask for what you want, for you to have what you want.”
So, what does Ravi want?
He wants a new body. He wants organs that work. He wants to get up and walk out of this hospital and never have to come back.
“What do you want?”
He wants to get his permit next year and learn to drive. He wants to go to school, and sit with friends, and eat lunch, and laugh at a dumb joke from his dad without coveting them like precious memories, and he wants to get nervous about asking someone to prom, and to wear an uncomfortable tux his parents rented for him while his mom cries taking his picture and his dad pinches his sides like he’s still a baby. He wants to go to soccer tournaments and eat consolation pizza when his team comes second place. He wants to have a first kiss, and apply to college, and see his parents smile.
Make-A-Wish. They can’t bring him a miracle. They can’t bring back time Ravi’s lost. That he keeps losing.
What do I want?
He thinks about it, asks for something simple. Something small.
“A firehouse? Of course, son, I’ll let them know. Any in particular? Anything special you want to do?”
No. No, nothing special. He just wants to see someone be saved. Even if it’s not him. He wants to see someone so soaked in relief at being able to live that it fills them up with happiness. Someone should get a happy ending, should walk away and hug their loved ones and think to themselves it’s all okay, I’ll be okay now.
He just wants to see that. Just once. See a hero, see a miracle.
See a happy ending.
And now it’s two in the morning, the day before their trip to the fire station, and Ravi’s crying in his bed because it… it feels final. It’s sinking in.
Make-A-Wish.
They’ll grant his wish, he’ll spend a couple hours there before coming back here, and then what does he have after that? What comes next?
It’s not a happy ending, Ravi thinks that for sure.
***
Be safe –
Howard’s in the ambulance, stocking supplies and checking them off when a loud thump hits the doors, making him turn around.
Love you!
“Han. You’re man behind, and on babysitting duties. Kid from Make-A-Wish is coming, show him the station.”
How’s the 118 treating you?
He stands up from his crouch in the back of the ambulance, staring at Gerrard. “What if the kid wants to do a ride-along? Isn’t that the point of this kind of stuff, to show them something exciting?” A moment of panic trails through his veins, a nerve shakes his arm and he clenches his fist.
Howie, you doing alright?
He shakes his head, a sting in his eyes as he feels the ghost of Kevin’s voice in his head while Gerard walks away, mind made up, and Howard’s left to figure out how to keep a child happy in a fire station. A child who’s ill, and likely wants cheering up, and they get stuck with him.
How old are they? Does the station have any plastic helmets around? Maybe Howard can go over the elementary school presentation with them? But that only lasts an hour. The parents will be there, too, and they’ll probably complain to Gerard about Howie’s poor delivery and demeanour and it’s already too much, it’s already far too much to come to work and sit in the truck and feel the weight of his dead brother in his mind but he has to, the same way he did when his mother died and he doesn’t have a choice, he just wants –
“Hello?”
Howard swivels his head around, looking through the light shining in the bay doors. Two people stand there, parents, nervous expressions on their faces before the mom waves widely while the dad grins, and then Howard looks down, sees a kid sat in a wheelchair, a ruffled teenager with a hardened expression on his face, and all he can feel is the weight in his chest lighten, for a moment.
He smiles widely. His face forgot how to do that.
“Is this our guest of honor for the day?”
The kid’s face, stoney and blank and expressionless, suddenly blinks to life. His eyes are wide, hat pulled down on his head and his mouth parts before closing again. Can’t be more than fifteen, sixteen. Sullen but hopeful at the same time. Couldn’t care less but curious nonetheless. Howard reaches over, hand stretched out.
“I’m Howie, it’s nice to meet you.”
The kid stares at him for a moment, his parents watching them both cautiously.
It takes a moment. Makes him nervous that he’s upset him somehow; done the wrong thing, said the wrong words. But then, after a few seconds, the kid reaches his hand out, and Howie… Howie holds it gently, squeezes once before pulling away.
“I’m Ravi.”
***
Howie’s so… normal. He’s got his own apartment, and a tattoo, and he plays basketball on Thursdays and is a firefighter and a paramedic. He let Ravi lift their gear when he asks to try it on, then lets Ravi time him to see how fast he could get into it himself, laughing the entire time. He even let Ravi set ridiculous challenges for him to complete, and even though half the time Howie’s failing miserably, he never gets mad. He just kept smiling, and then he shoved Ravi’s hat past his eyes when his parents weren’t looking, and Ravi grinned and pushed it back up eagerly and felt like a child being bullied by his older brother.
And Ravi knows, he’s not a kid, not anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time. But here, with his parents laughing, with Firefighter Han showing him their equipment and tools and letting him sit in the fire truck and press the horn and cackle when their Captain yelps from the bunks, he feels… he feels…
He feels normal.
They played video games, and then chess, and then the alarm goes off and Ravi was prepared for them to have to leave too, until Howie winked and said he’s the lucky one who managed to win the chance to be ‘man behind,’ so he stays back and pulls out a deck of cards, and Ravi watches the others firefighters go, a whole group of people who didn’t say anything to him or his parents since they got there, so he doesn’t feel like he’s missing something when they leave.
His parents stepped out to get them lunch, gushing about the Thai place a few blocks away. His dad pinches his cheeks as they get up, an old habit from when Ravi was just a baby, and Ravi whines in embarrassment but catches Howie smiling to himself before he turns away, and Ravi thinks to himself that, in the grand scheme of things, that maybe he doesn’t mind his dad doing that so much.
“So, I didn’t ask. Why’d you pick us?” Howie asks, throwing a grape in the air and catching it in his mouth. Ravi stares for a moment, tracking the trick, and Howie pauses. “You want to try?”
Seventeen grapes on the floor later, Howie’s rubbing his side as he finally stops laughing so hard, wiping tears from his face. Ravi hides a grin behind a bite of his fruit.
“Sorry, sorry. Oh, man, I haven’t laughed that hard since –” It’s jarring, to see the way Howie sobers up so quickly, but the moment eases as the firefighter leans back in his seat again, almost purposefully relaxed. “Anyway. You never answered my question.”
Ravi raises his eyebrows, head tilting to the side. “What question?”
“Why us?” Howie grins easily again, and then crosses his arms over his chest. “I know the 118 probably isn’t anything special, but I meant generally. Why firefighters? Is that something you’d want to do?”
The grape feels like ash in his mouth. Ravi swallows, the scrape of the fruit struggling to go down.
What does he say?
Everyone likes firefighters. They’re heroes.
It was the easiest thing to arrange on short notice.
I want to see people be helped.
I want to see people happy.
I want to be saved.
“I don’t know,” Ravi shrugged, and Howie made an ahh sound as he nods his head slowly. Ravi furrows his brow at him. “What?”
Howie tsks at him and then bites down on his grape, shaking his head in mock-disappointment. “Teenagers. It’ll kill you to say when you find something interesting, won’t it?”
It’s a joke. They’ve been joking all day. Howie just said he hasn’t laughed this hard in a while. Ravi can’t remember feeling this free in years. And he gets it, he knows Howie didn’t mean it any way, but the words sting anyway. Any other person wouldn’t care. But, but he’s not any other person, he’s not like the others. He’s not normal. He’s not trying to be aloof, he just, he just –
“No, the cancer will kill me, actually.” Ravi snaps, dark and cutting and hurt, and then he freezes, eyes darting up to Howie with a jolt of panic coursing through his veins.
His heart’s thumping wildly in his chest, pulse darting everywhere. Ravi doesn’t get angry. Anger doesn’t do anything. It doesn’t give him more time. He used to yell at his parents when he was younger, when he was more sad and scared and wanted it all to stop, but he’s learned. Bottles it up. Simmers. Boils in it. Lets his skin blister. But it’s not meant to spill over. It’s not meant to get to anyone else. Because that’s when the real disappointment and pain and fear lives.
He waits. Waits to see the man flinch, watch Howie retreat, make an excuse, find a way out. All because Ravi couldn’t keep it together, not even for a goddamn couple of hours, and his parents will come back and worry like they always do and want to help out even though there’s nothing they can do and and and –
“That’s fair. I’m sorry, Ravi. I didn’t mean to upset you. Do you want me to call your parents back? I can go grab food instead, if you’d prefer?” Howie smiles, a small, comforting thing, sliding his chair back slightly, giving him space, and Ravi shakes his head furiously.
“N-no. I-I didn’t mean to, I…” His words stammer together, his lips quiver for a moment and he locks up, eyes welling slightly and he doesn’t want to be angry or hurting or small anymore, he just wants to be fucking normal for once but –
“I didn’t think I’d ever want to be a firefighter, you know.” Howie’s voice is quieter, soft but tense, and Ravi just watches. Breathes slowly. Listens. He only know notices the tremor flickering in Howie’s hand. “I only became one because of my best friend. My brother, in a way. Kevin. He decided to go to the fire academy and he was so sure of it, took to it like a duck to water, you know? He was great. He was great at everything actually, picture perfect kid. Would help me with school all the time, taught me how to shave without cutting myself all over, helped me cook my first meal without burning it. I never really thought about becoming a firefighter, not until him. And then it became one of the best decisions of my life.”
Ravi clears his throat. There’s a weird lump in there that doesn’t go away. “Because you get to save people?”
Howie smiles, and Ravi notices. It’s a little broken. A little empty. His eyes are hollow. “No. No, it saved me, actually. I nearly quit… but I couldn’t imagine doing anything else now. This is mine and Kevin’s path.”
There’s something in the way he says it. There’s an echo of another voice joining him that Ravi recognizes. Heard in the hospital for years. He can feel it, and it hurts.
“Did Kevin die?”
It’s quiet, in the fire station. The team is still out on a call. Ravi’s parents aren’t back yet. The question echoes around them.
Howie stays silent for a long time, but really, if Ravi thought about it, it was only for as long as it took them to breathe in deeply.
“Yeah. Yeah, Kevin died.”
They both sit there, and Ravi waits. Watches. Howie’s hand on the table is soft, just resting there, but his other is clenched under the table, so tight it looks like stone. His breathing is steady, his face is void of anything, and Ravi doesn’t really know how to get the words out. Isn’t sure what to do when an adult grieves. He went to support groups for years as a kid, still gets forced to go now, and he’s seen people he knows, people he likes, people his age, even younger, die. He knows death. But death like this… a brother. Ravi doesn’t have one, but he thinks it would be like a missing limb. A wound that will never close. He thinks of his own parents one day, alone, by an empty bed, and his eyes start to water.
His hand wavers, before settling on Howie’s on the table.
“I’m sorry you lost your brother,” Ravi finally says, and Howie nods his head a few times, looking up with bright eyes, slightly wet. He twists his arm and runs a comforting hand over Ravi’s arm, a warm hand holding him.
“I’m sorry, Ravi. You both deserve more time.”
I want time. I want more time. Please, please, I just want more time.
Ravi swallows harshly, the water pooling from his eyes and blinking down to the floor when his parents yell out for them from the bottom of the stairs, saying something about that their food getting freshly made and there was a special on the Pad Thai and they made sure there wasn’t any eggplant because Howie hated it in his curry and the two of them bumble their way up the stairs.
Before Ravi can look away, brush his face clean, Howie moves his hand and places it on Ravi’s shoulder, squeezes it carefully, and he smiles again, warm and kind and everything.
“You would make a great firefighter, Ravi. You’ve got the heart for it.”
***
He waves to the family, arm stretched overhead as his chest pangs painfully at the image of Ravi before him now, shrinking back into himself as they packed up to leave, the fall of his face into that awful blank slate as they went on their way. Mrs. Panikkar wrote down Howie’s name and phone number and email carefully on a slip of paper she grabbed from her purse, reciting it back to Howie three times as they walked out while her husband smiled at her, shaking his head indulgently. Mr. Panikkar leaned over to Howie as the other two got their things together.
“Meera will convince herself she wrote it down wrong in the car ride back to the hospital. Trust me, you’ll get a text from her in less than an hour, panicking over whether your number is the right, one” Sahil laughed, his eyes stuck on his family and Howie felt a lump in his throat grow as they finally walked away.
He doesn’t get it. How they can live each day like that, waiting, worrying, watching. It tore Howie apart when he felt it for himself, when he saw Kevin in that fire and never come out, when his world stopped and tilted onto the wrong angle, and it’s been stuck ever since. Howie’s not whole, he’s not sure if he ever will be, but then he’s faced with a family that lives and breathes for one another and somehow they keep going.
His hand clenches, tight, so tight his knuckles go white and strains at his skin, nails biting his palms, and he grabs his phone from his pocket.
Goes to his contacts. Pulls up a number. Hits dial. It rings only twice before it connects.
“Howie? Oh, how are you, sweetheart? It’s been too long, are you eating enough? Honey, honey, it’s Howie! He’s on the phone, how do you put it on – oh, Howie, can you hear us? You’re on speaker! Hi, dear!”
He sits down in the locker room. Smiles. Wipes his eyes first. Clears his throat. Tells Mr. and Mrs. Lee about his day. His week. The last month. Tells them about work and breaking up with his girlfriend and his apartment’s faulty A/C unit and then, finally, Ravi. He tells them about Ravi and Meera and Sahil and the way they had their own language when they spoke, and the lunch they had together and how exhausted Howie was after Ravi made him lug around all his gear and how he’d do it again if it made him laugh that loudly again.
He thinks about Kevin and his mother and the cancer that lingered around them for years, and the guilt in his stomach each day he's away from Albert, and how disappointed the Lees must be to have known Howie couldn’t save their son, and he thinks about how much they’ve lost. How much has slipped from his hands.
He tells them Ravi’s running out of time. He can’t hold it back then, and the tears start to fall.
“Oh my, that’s… that’s not right, not right at all. He’s too young. Just a baby.” Mrs. Lee’s voice is faraway as she speaks, and she takes a moment to clear her throat. Howie wipes his eyes. “I will pray for him. Howie, you should come over tonight, yes? When do you finish your shift? Do you need us to pick you up?”
Even after everything, after all they’ve gone through, all they’ve lost - they still treat Howie like this. Like they’re family. Even after Kevin… after everything. All he’s failed at. They’re still here.
His voice is hoarse when he responds. “I’d like that, yeah.”
He’s about to let them go when his phone beeps in his hand. He reads the message.
Hi! Sorry to bother you, this is Meera Panikkar, Ravi’s mother? Is this Howie Han? I believe I got the number right, but just wanted to check!
Howie smiles.
“I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay! Be safe! Love you.”
***
Ravi was worried it would be weird, at first. What guy would want to call some sick, dying kid? A kid he was forced to spend time with, because he was just doing his job? A firefighter of all people, who has better things to do with his time.
But his parents made sure to get Howie’s details before they left, and they bugged Ravi for weeks about setting up some time for them to call, and Ravi stalled for as long as he could. Let the days wither away so that if they did call, he was willing to bet Howie would ignore it, or make up an excuse, and they’d be done with the whole thing. And Ravi could just remember it being a nice day, a really nice moment, and it won’t be weird. It won’t be tainted by the aftermath.
With the way his parents kept pressing him to call Howie, Ravi wondered if they realized how lonely he’d been all this time, or if they saw the light that flickered in him that day and wanted it to burn a little longer.
The screen loads in front of him, and Ravi’s staring at his reflection as he waits for Howie to accept the call. The one he promised to join.
Ravi stares at himself for a moment before looking away sharply. He looks awful, the dark circles under his eyes are stark, the blanket over his shoulders dwarfing him. He thinks that Howie will be able to tell, will cringe and stammer at first and try not to stare. He would think of ways to let Ravi down gently, say how it would be best if they didn’t call, actually, Howie’s busy and –
“Ravi! How’s it going, kid? Been getting into some trouble?”
Ravi lowers his hand from the screen, the hand that was inches away from ending the call and instead leans back in his bed. The smile on his face comes naturally.
“What trouble would I be getting into, locked up in here?”
Howie waves his hand. He’s not in uniform. He looks like he’s in his apartment, at home. “Well, next time we have a patient we need to drop off in your neck of the woods, I’ll see if we can spring you. Wanna learn to drive in an ambulance?”
Ravi’s dad snorts from the other side of the room, and Howie freezes. Ravi thinks he sees him mutter a swear word, but he can’t be sure.
“Uh, hi, Sahil. Mr. Panikkar. That was a joke, for the record. Legally, I wouldn’t let a minor without a permit drive an ambulance. Um.”
His dad doesn’t even look up from his newspaper, just smirking as he turns the page. “Noted,” he yells back, and Ravi rolls his eyes. Howie grins back, pretending to wipe the sweat from his brow.
***
“I don’t really have a best friend.”
“Me neither.”
“Isn’t that sad?”
“Hey, these things happen, Ravi, don’t beat yourself up over it –”
“I meant for you. I’m a kid with cancer, friendships are a little harder to keep. You’re just some guy. You should probably make some friends.”
“Well. Thanks for that, kid. I feel great.”
“You’re welcome.”
“There’s actually this new person at work. She’s nice. Going through some stuff I went through, but she’s better at handling it than me, I think. Maybe we can both call you sometime, if I’m not some loser who can’t make friends.”
“You said it, not me.”
Howie scoffs, but Ravi’s not worried that he’s upset him, not anymore. It’s been a long time since he worried about that kind of stuff. There have been calls on the weekends for months and random visits to the hospital when Howie’s in the neighbourhood and Howie took Ravi’s mother’s cooking home with him more than enough times for Ravi to stop worrying about Howie leaving.
Ravi coughs suddenly, loudly, and his mom hands him some water. Howie waits.
“Hey, Ravi?”
He’s swallowed his gulp, the air coming back to him. His chest hurts, but he’s used to it. “Yeah?”
“I’m lucky to be your friend, you know.”
Ravi looks away, and smiles as his mom hides her face behind her book, her eyes a little watery as she clears her throat.
“I know. I’m glad I’m your friend, too.”
***
It was a slow day. He had a 48 off, so he did his laundry and got groceries and saw some flowers that looked like the kind his mom used to keep in the house so he bought them and the Lees came over and spent some time with him and –
It was the anniversary.
Howie was Ravi’s age, when he lost her.
They have a call scheduled. Howie has yet to miss a single one of them, and he doesn’t want to start now. Ravi was on the other end, telling him about the latest book he was reading, and Howie asked about the main character’s love interest and if there was a sequel already out and when it was written, and it just sort of falls out of his mouth, really.
“My mom had cancer.”
Ravi looks up from where he was scanning the book for the publication year, and pauses. They sort of gape at one another, and it jolts Howie into shaking his head, waving a hand in front of him, one that’s shaking and caught in a tremor.
“Sorry, sorry. Ignore that, I don’t know why I –”
“What was she like?”
Howie swallows, and frowns down at his hands. Why is he bringing this up to Ravi? Hasn’t he been through enough? Hasn’t he had to swallow down enough without Howie bringing up his own shit?
There’s movement on the other side of the screen, and then Ravi’s whispering something to his mom or dad, and Howie clenches his fist and goes to apologize but then Meera’s in the screen, and she’s smiling at him softly.
“Hi, Howie. Just letting you guys know me and Sahil are heading just outside the room. Ravi will let us know if he needs anything, okay? You guys keep talking,” she nods, and kisses Ravi’s forehead. The look she gives Howie as she pulls away, so deep and sad and warm, makes him feel light-headed.
What was his mom like?
She was everything. Everything good, and kind, and loving. She was the smile he woke up to in the mornings, and the soft hand on his cheek when he got hurt. She was his best friend, and his savior, and she got coconut cake for her birthday for years even though she hated it because it was Howie’s favorite, and she made everything hurt less, and she was his mom.
“Howie? Do you want to talk about it?”
Ravi’s face is scrunched up, concern etched into every faint line, and Howie’s smile wobbles, just for a moment. He sees it on the screen, and he clears his throat.
“Yeah, I think I do.”
They spend a while talking about her, and Ravi asks her name and what she looked like and how tall she was, and Howie grins and at one point Ravi laughs as he tells him a story from his childhood, one that involved Albert flooding the bathroom as a baby, and it felt okay. It felt broken and painful, and it pulled at a wound terribly, but it was okay.
They remembered Howie’s mom, together, and when it’s time to end the call, Howie thanks him.
“You don’t need to thank me. I’m glad you remember her.” Ravi blinks his eyes, and swallows heavily. Howie’s mouth parts, but he can’t think of something to say. He narrows his eyes, forced to say bye by the time he realizes what Ravi meant.
Howie will always remember her. Like he will Kevin.
And now, like he will Ravi.
***
They’re serving some kind of sandwich today, dry and plain and boring, and Ravi wishes he could eat some of his mom’s dal, or his dad’s dahi, anything except for bland hospital food. Howie’s got a cup of coffee in his hands, and they’re talking about family. About how Ravi’s parents met, what his cousins are like, about Kevin and Howie’s mom and the Lees, and then -
“I have a younger brother.”
Ravi pauses in his bite, mid-chew, and looks up. There’s a sharp sting in his chest. Howie’s calling from the station, keeping his promise of a monthly check-in even a full year later. He looks a little tired on shift today. There are bags under his eyes. It even looks like he has a bit of stubble growing in.
Swallowing his food, Ravi watches his parents talk to one another in the corner of the room, something about a TV show they’re watching, before turning back to Howie.
“Are you close?” There’s a bitter snap in his words as he responds, and he feels odd. Upset. Confused about why it’s never come up before, especially when Howie talks about Kevin all the time, and Howie’s face looks tense, almost regretful.
“No. No, we aren’t. It’s my fault. Our dad - He’d be around your age, I think. Maybe older. His name’s Albert.”
Ravi decides he wants to end the call. He wants to throw the tablet to the floor and wants to spit out “I knew it!” and watch shame fill Howie’s face. He wants the last year back and to shelter the feelings in his chest splintering as another disappointment hits him solidly because –
It’s obvious, now. Why would someone want to be friends with him, spend time with a dying kid? Ravi asked that question to himself for months until he trusted Howie, thought that Howie actually liked him, cared about him, was like family almost, but no. No, no. No, Howie’s just been filling some void all of his own, playing pretend with Ravi because he can’t have his real little brother anymore, and it all finally makes sense and it hurts because Ravi doesn’t have much, but it felt like he had his little corner of the world, his little family, a friend, and he wasn’t all alone for once but it’s not true and Howie won’t stay and Ravi just wants to be normal, he just wants more time –
“I don’t want to fail you, like I failed him. And Kevin. And my mom. If you or your parents ever need something, let me know, okay? I’ll be there for you guys. I care about you, Ravi.”
But maybe, maybe Howie wanted more time, too.
***
There hasn’t been a call. A month passed, and there’s only silence when there should be Meera, texting him saying, “Hi Howie! How are you? Are you free this Saturday at 3pm for a call?”
But it doesn’t mean he needs to worry that the message never came through, right? Maybe they’re busy. That’s normal. Even though this has never happened in the last year, that doesn’t automatically mean something bad has happened, right?
So why doesn’t Meera reply to his texts?
“Hi Meera, is everything okay?”
Another week passes, and Howie tries again. He tugs at his hair and he bits his nails and Hen has to slap his hand several times a shift to get him to stop.
“Don’t want to bug you guys, but just checking in. How is Ravi?”
More time passes. No response. More texts are sent, all from him. The other side is an empty wall, blank space. Void. Nothing.
He goes to the Lees for dinner, months of radio silence from the Panikkars grinding at his teeth. He gets upset about it all of a sudden, the feelings flooding to the surface and he tells them, white-hot anger boiling inside for being ignored until it hits him like lightening.
The realization makes him freeze. He starts shaking, his hand can’t stop and then his knees give out. Mr. Lee has to catch him, makes him walk to the closest chair and Mrs. Lee strokes his hair softly as she mutters under her breath and it’s like déjà vu. It’s like hearing the news about his mother, about Kevin. It’s a drowning feeling that won’t stop as it slowly rises and rises and suffocates.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Howie.
He’s light-headed. His heart can’t find a beat and settle on it. He thinks he understands what their silence means now, not borne out of impoliteness, not out of carelessness, but out of grief. Pain. They suffered alone, and now Howie will, too. And it hurts, so badly, because he felt like he was with them and he promised to be with them and he wasn’t and he doesn’t want – he doesn’t want Ravi to think – he doesn’t want Ravi to think he didn’t care, that he was alone in the end. Howie never wanted him to think that. But he’s gone, isn’t he?
And it makes him sick to the bone.
He deserved more time.
***
He tries to come to terms with it.
He struggles.
He is held by Mr. and Mrs. Lee. He talks to Kevin’s grave. He buys his mother’s favorite flowers and cries. He reaches out to Albert. He spends more time with Hen and Karen. He sits with Bobby.
And then a little while later, he leans his head on Buck’s shoulder after a long shift. He meets Maddie, and thinks he’ll never want to go a day without seeing her again. He hugs Eddie and sees the picture of family they’ve woven, and the gaping hole exists, but it hurts a little less than it always has in Howie’s chest.
But some things don’t change. He can’t stomach helping with any Make-A-Wish requests for the station. He throws up in the bathrooms the first time Bobby asks him if he’d be interested in staying behind. He doesn’t eat at the Thai place down the block, even though Buck whines that they make the best green curry. He lets them call him Chimney and he smiles and jokes and helps as many people as he can but there are still days where it stings him. Because it’s another side of him that Ravi won’t know, that Kevin won’t see, that his mother’s never going to know.
It gets a little better, in the way that time makes him sit with it, fit the grief into his blood, stretch across his skin and sink into him. Chimney’s always had that.
Time.
More than he thinks he deserves, compared to those he’s lost.
But it gets better, when Maddie’s kissing him and laughing with him and then she’s telling him they’re going to have a child and it’s like the world shifts again. And through every heartache that’s come with losing his mother, with Kevin’s death, with Ravi gone, Chimney’s been given time and he has to do something with it, he gets it now.
He can’t take life, take time for granted. Not with his own little baby on the way.
And in the blink of an eye, he’s ten years older. Ten years since his probationary year. He’s changed in a lot of ways, he thinks. He’s in love, he’s happy, he’s surrounded by joy. But he’s still aching, still wretched a little inside, those parts won’t change, but he has family. He’ll be okay.
“I feel like we get new probie’s here every other day now,” Buck moans, and Eddie shoves at him gently, who pinwheels his arms as he loses his balance. “Woah, what? What’s wrong with saying that?”
“It’s hardly welcoming,” Hen points out, and Eddie tilts his head to the side, saying something to Buck with their eyes in their weird little language. Buck sighs and nods his head to Eddie.
“Fine, you’re right. I just meant there’s so many new faces, all of whom are welcome, of course,” Buck clarifies, and Eddie huffs a laugh under his breath.
“Did you guys all take to Buck as warmly as he’s taking to these recruits?” Eddie asked jokingly, and Hen’s eyes widen.
“Oh, Buck’s probationary year?” Her eyes catch a glimmer, looking over to Chimney with an evil glint and Buck whines.
“Stop it, guys! Eddie already knows all about that stuff, you’re just trying to embarrass me!”
Chimney’s half-heartedly paying attention, too busy thinking of the most annoying thing he can say that will make Buck yell at him in response, when suddenly there’s loud, thudding footsteps echoing on the station’s floors.
It takes a moment to process, since he’s still wondering what response will wind Buck up the most, but Chimney belatedly watches the others all turn towards the noise, to the person storming into the station behind him, and there is a mix of confused faces and furrowed brows from his friends when Chimney finally turns himself, just in time for a pair of arms to reach him and pull him in.
His first instinct is to pull back, assess the situation, figure out if this is a victim needing help and to try to get a handle on things, but then his brain pauses. Forcibly makes Chimney stop, breathe, wait. His body slowly relaxes as he feels the man, he was just a kid, tremble slightly.
He’s clutching onto Chimney, fingers clamped around his back and his face is shoved into Chim’s shoulder but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind the damp spot growing there, no, he’s too busy already reaching back and hugging the man back and wondering if this is even real. Chimney’s too busy blinking his eyes furiously because it’s difficult to see with the water pooling in them, and he wants to laugh because there’s a bubbling feeling growing in his gut that feels like disbelief in the most beautiful way, but then they’re pulling apart, and what Chimney sees makes him start to cry anyway.
He's shot up, grown tall like a beanstalk.
He’s got a head full of curly hair.
He’s in his twenties, bright smile and eyes peering at him.
He’s a fucking firefighter –
“Chim, everything okay?” Hen asks carefully, a hand reaching out to them both but Chimney nods furiously before pulling them back into another hug, slapping his hand on the kid’s back a few times and letting out a hysterical laugh that booms around them.
When Chimney pulls back to look at him again, he watches the kid’s eyes carefully, dark and bright and alive, and they’re doing the same, staring at Chimney and darting over his face, his scars, and the bastard’s just stood there, grinning like he did ten years ago when Chimney threw grapes at him.
Buck whispers to Eddie from behind them, an attempt to be discrete but it comes out loud enough that they can all hear him anyway. “Do I have to be as welcoming as Chim to all the new probies?” There’s a yelp shortly afterwards, but Chimney’s mind isn’t focused on them right now.
He’s staring at the kid in front of him, and he wants to stay in this feeling forever.
“I got time,” Ravi finally says, voice shaking a little, and Chimney reels him back in for a hug.
He got time, he got time, he got time, he got time, he got time.
***
They fill in the lost years. Ravi explains a few things, tells him about the treatment in New Jersey, the one his doctor’s said was newly tested but seemed like the only way to go for him, and so the Panikkars packed up their whole life and headed over quicker than a lightning strike. Ravi was put through the wringer, doctors checking into every part of his body to see if they could help him, and at the end of each day he barely had enough energy to lift his head, to blink.
But in the end, it worked.
It worked.
And then reality hit, his days stopped being consumed by the hospital, the treatments, the sickness, and suddenly he had to think about school, and going clothes shopping, and Ravi’s hair started growing in and he asked if he could buy a bike and stay out late and eat junk food and he wanted – he wanted to go back to Los Angeles. Wanted to be on the soccer team, and to break curfew, and make a best friend, and call Howi-
But it was years later. Time had trickled by without them realizing, drop by drop down the river, and Meera’s phone had broken and Ravi didn’t remember what station Howie worked at and he felt so earth-shatteringly guilty to have left his friend behind that he couldn’t think of what to do to fix it. Didn’t know if he could fix it, or if he lost that part of his childhood to memories. But the feeling lingered, and Ravi never stopped hoping he could go back, now he has the time.
And when he thinks about it, it all comes together. Full circle. Ravi tells his parents he wants to save people. He wants to see happy endings. Because in a funny way, firefighting sort of saved him.
And then he was back in Los Angeles. He caught up on school, on so much he missed, got on his own two feet after a while and thanked his parents for everything they gave up for him, and he applied to the fire academy. His mom made him promise to be careful, and his dad cupped his cheeks and joked about dragging him home after every shift if he had to, to make sure he was still alive, and Ravi fussed and grumbled and hugged his parents and he… he felt normal, in a way.
He went to the fire academy, and one of the first things he did when he finished his first day was look up the local stations by his old hospital, and he swallowed down all the courage he could find and hit enter. And when he saw Station 118 in the list, his whole body woke up. Remembered for him. He felt the warmth in his chest, the smile on his face, and even though it had been nearly a decade later, he prayed that somehow, Howie would still be there.
“Never left,” Chimney grins, and then Hen’s asking Ravi about what it was like having to put up with Chim back in his probie days, and Buck is giving Ravi unsolicited advice that he believes is helpful but is all stuff Ravi already heard in the academy, and Eddie’s laughing at Ravi’s jokes and asking where he gets his hair cut because it’s a similar style to his son’s and Chimney just watches.
“Welcome to the family,” Chimney gestures to the group, right as Bobby walks down the stairs. Ravi pulls Chim back into a hug, the grin on his face wide and real and loved.
“Oh,” Bobby pauses, watching the pair carefully. “I see,” he follows up with, and then Bobby brings Ravi into a hug, too. Buck snickers as Hen flicks his ear.
“Be nice to the probies,” Eddie reminds him, and Buck snorts.
“I gotta be nice, now I know he’s Chim’s baby brother.”
“That’s what people say to Maddie about you, you know.”
“Chim! What the hell!”
***
Chimney’s staring.
“You’re staring,” Hen points out, and Karen looks up from her drink to follow his gaze across the backyard. Her mouth parts in a perfect circle, and then she wisely avoids bringing up the elephant in the room by taking another sip of her drink and slipping a hand into her wife’s, squeezing tightly in excitement.
“I’m not staring,” Chimney scoffs, and then continues to stare.
Ravi. With Albert. Laughing. Together.
“Are you going to have to give them both the shovel talk, big brother?” Hen asks teasingly, and Chimney swats at her.
“Funny,” he snarks, and Karen hides her laugh in her drink.
Hen rolls her eyes as she pats his shoulder, pulling with her other hand twined with Karen’s. “You just worry about what you want to say in your best man speech for them, okay?”
Karen snorts loudly before her eyes widen and she apologies. “No! No, I’m not laughing at you, it’s just, well, it’s kinda funny, isn’t it? How -” Hen’s gently swaying Karen away from a now deadpan Chimney as she attempts to clear the air, and then they both turn the corner and to his immediate relief, Maddie’s at his side.
His brain buffers after his wife kisses him, and then all at once catches up again.
“Best man speech?!”
There’s no way. They literally just met. Chimney grabs Maddie’s hand for dear life and lets her steer him away from the patio to inside Bobby and Athena’s home, telling the others they pass by that they need to try some of the cake. And make sure Jee-Yun doesn’t eat it all.
As they walk away, the two of them glance over their shoulders and spy on the couple. Ravi’s laughing loudly, hand on his stomach and eyes scrunched up, joy lighting him up as Albert stares at him, a small smile on his face as his eyes dart all over the man before him.
Chimney isn’t sure who to glare at, so he glares at both of them.
Is he going to have to give two shovel talks?
No, no. That’s silly. They just met.
“You’re overthinking it, honey. Just let them see where they end up. If they’re friends, then that’s great. And if they’re more, we’ll see what happens next. Nothing you can do. Nothing you should do,” Maddie adds, her hand sliding him a slice of cake, and as he takes a giant bite out of it, he does feel calmer. He tips his head into her hair and inhales, a smile on his face as he hears Ravi laugh again across the yard.
It's almost a perfect moment, and then Jee runs around them in five circles with icing all over her face, gleefully telling them she’s a dragon, and then Denny runs out of the living room and freezes, half-eaten plate of cake in his hands.
“I didn’t do anything.”
Chimney raises an eyebrow.
“She’s not my responsibility?” Denny tries, and Mara’s stood behind him now, letting out a low and dramatic “ooooo” that has Denny panicking. “She’s not my daughter?”
Maddie sighs, and Chimney hangs his head. “Got us there, kid. How much did she get?”
Mara and Denny both look down at the plate. “It’s her third one.”
They both immediately turn to look for their daughter, who’s now got her claws in Buck’s hair from where she’s sat on his shoulders, demanding he run around as fast as he can. Chim can see Buck wince from the other side of the garden at the force, combined with Christopher using his crutch to whack at Buck’s legs, yelling at him to go faster. Eddie’s recording the whole thing.
Chimney sprints over to collect his kid, and Maddie shouts from behind him.
“Run it out of her system, honey!”
***
“Hi everyone. My name is Howard, and I’m Albert’s older brother. I’m also kind of Ravi’s older brother, I think? Which makes this whole thing really weird for me.”
“Chim!”
“Sorry, anyway. We are gathered here today to witness –”
Meera’s already crying from her seat, and Chimney watches as Sahil hands her a handkerchief, already waiting in his hands ready for her. Maddie’s got Jee in her lap, flower girl duties finished, and she’s ducked her cheek to rest on their perfect daughter’s head as they both smile at him.
Albert and Ravi can’t look away from each other, smiling so widely it has to hurt their cheeks.
Howie grins.
Ravi laughs.