Chapter Text
Caitlyn laughs, and Vi lunges at her, trying to poke her in the ribs.
She dodges easily and comes up behind Vi, smirking in triumph. “Told you — you can’t get me so easily,” she teases.
It’s been almost three years since the two firefighters started dating, yet to Caitlyn they’re still in the honeymoon stage. Not that she’s complaining — Vi makes her so goddamn happy she’s almost drunk on joy every time she sees Vi. And she can tell Vi feels the same, since the way her grey eyes sparkle every time they meet gives it away.
“Does this tempt you to just let me win?” Vi asks, and then Caitlyn’s being hauled towards her and their lips lock in a slow, gentle kiss that feels like home.
Caitlyn breaks away, her thumb running over Vi’s cheekbone as she tries hard not to blush — they’re standing in the firehouse garage, and their rookies are standing twenty feet away, wide-eyed and clutching soapy sponges that Caitlyn tries very hard not to shove in their plate-sized eyes.
“Vi!” she scolds playfully, her eyes flicking between the rookies and then Vi. “Youre not setting a very good example, Lieutenant Wick.”
Vi raises an eyebrow and glances toward the rookies. “Am I not allowed to love my girlfriend?”
Caitlyn snickers. “Your girlfriend, Captain Kiramman, who ranks higher than you and can therefore sentence you to a full day of scut work given a justified reason?”
“And what is said reason?”
Another laugh, and a successful jab in Vi’s muscled torso. “When I find one I’ll get back to you.”
Vi shares the laugh, but her face resettles as she turns towards the rookies she and Caitlyn are in charge of, and she claps her hands together. They’ve been washing the same tyre on the firetruck since the pair got there, which evidently means they are only interested in the not-new yet still-blooming relationship between the officers.
Vi whistles, getting their attention. “You’ve been washing the same tyre for ten minutes,” she observes.
Caitlyn can swear she hears the four rookies swallow.
“It appears you’re more interested in our relationship than your actual training,” Vi says, her voice low. “Is your job to be a firefighter or to ogle at your superiors?”
Her tone effectively snaps the rookies to attention, and suddenly they stand up straight. “Sorry, Lieutenant!”
“Is this how you plan on acting in a real fire? Gawk while shit’s burning?”
“No, Lieutenant!”
Vi shoots a pointed look at the white-haired rookie — Ekko, a childhood friend of hers whose younger age makes everyone consider him her younger brother. Caitlyn sees her bite back a remark — probably, “I expected better from you, Ekko” — and flick her head towards the fire truck.
“Finish washing up, and come inside for the morning briefing.” She looks at the clock hanging on the far wall. “Time now is 7.48 am, you should be there in precisely seven minutes.”
“Yes, Lieutenant!”
“Carry on.”
Vi turns her back on the rookies, who hurry to clear up the hoses and sponges and mop the area, and Caitlyn smirks at her. “I love watching you discipline the rookies.”
With a small smile flickering over scarred lips, Vi simply says, “I know.”
She opens her mouth, looking like she wants to say more, but then the alarms start blaring, and the announcer’s voice crackles over the PA system. Vi and Caitlyn freeze, listening to the announcement.”
“Station 24, three-alarm structure fire — residential complex…”
Caitlyn whips around, her voice echoing through the garage. She and Vi start moving towards their gear and she shouts instructions at the rookies.
“Let’s go, it’s a three-alarm! Move!”
And in an instant, the firehouse explodes into motion.
~~~
Vi’s vaguely aware of Caitlyn shouting orders at the rookies when she arrives at the scene.
The area is pure chaos. Vi counts around ten vehicles in total, firetrucks, police cars and ambulances accounted for. The residents on the ground are all staring up at the flames, several of them taking photos and videos.
It’s not a big building — a five-storey apartment — but she can tell it’s old, and from the way it’s burning up fast, she guesses it’s a wooden structure with a concrete core. She hears Vander’s voice over the comms, commanding Caitlyn to take control of the team and lead search-and-rescue on the fourth and fifth floors, where the fire started and is now raging the strongest.
She glances at Vi, then the rookies and the rest of her team, who give her a thumbs up sign.
Vi nods, and then the team’s charging into the flames. They run up the staircase and reach the fourth floor, and Caitlyn signals to Vi to take half the team and search the fifth floor.
Vi jogs up another floor, and a strong kick to the door sends it flying off its hinges. Vi takes a second for the smoke to clear, adjusting her mask and taking a second to get used to the intense heat. Then she plunges into the apartment, hearing her own raspy breathing through the oxygen mask. Even after five years of being a firefighter and her own experience with fires in the past, the heat is uncomfortable.
Vi sweeps through the room, calling out for victims as her team members do the same.
She’s kicking open another door — the bathroom, she presumes — when Ekko shouts over comms, “I got one!”
Vi’s back in the living room in an instant, helping Ekko lift a limp body — a young man, perhaps around his early twenties, unconscious and not breathing. Vi instructs Ekko to bring him out of the building immediately, and Ekko nods, fleeing the scene.
The rest of the team does one last quick sweep of the area, and Vi confirms that there aren’t any more victims. They jog back down the stairs, and Vi signals for her team to get out first while she assists Caitlyn.
The door on the fourth floor’s been kicked open, and Vi enters the room, taking in the sight of the other half of her team searching for victims. Caitlyn’s just about doing the final checks, and one of her firemen is pushing past Vi with a coughing old lady in his arms.
Vi hears the building groan — a deep, guttural sound that sets her nerves on fire. Cracks spider across the walls like veins, making her blood turn to ice.
“Cait, we gotta go! The building’s about to collapse!” she yells, voice cracking through the smoke.
Caitlyn spins around and barks orders to the rookies, who hesitate, wide-eyed and frozen. They’re barely out of training — too new, too slow.
“Move! Now!” Caitlyn shoves one forward. Another rookie stumbles over debris. Caitlyn’s there instantly, yanking him up with one arm and pushing him toward the exit. She lingers, scanning the room again.
Vi’s heart slams against her ribs. “We don’t have time —!”
Then everything happens at once.
A horrific groan — the death rattle of a dying structure — tears through the air. The ceiling splits. A chunk of concrete shears downward.
There’s a scream. Vi barely sees the rookie thrown toward her, his eyes wild — and then she looks past him.
Too late.
Caitlyn turns just as the slab crashes down. It hits her hard — face, shoulder — and she goes down beneath the rubble.
“No! Caitlyn!” Vi screams, voice raw and feral as fire and dust explode outward. She lunges forward, flames swirling around the crumpled heap of concrete and limbs.
Vi’s hands claw desperately at the concrete, her heart pounding as she struggles to lift the slab. Caitlyn’s face flashes through her head — that soft, easy smile that always made her feel so safe and seen.
Then she sees the day that ruined her life twenty years ago, and feels the blood on her fingers, sees the lifeless bodies going up in flames, hears the strangled cries and sobs of the people around her.
I can’t let it happen again.
Adrenaline surges through her veins, and Vi’s choking off a guttural scream, tears pricking at her eyes, muscles straining as she lifts the concrete and pushes it over.
Caitlyn’s lying there in the midst of all the dust and smoke and fire, mask cracked and eyes closed. She’s not breathing.
Vi feels her body grow numb, her vision flickering between Caitlyn and the mirror image of someone she loved, lying in the exact same position.
She doesn’t think. She doesn’t hesitate. She just scoops Caitlyn up in her arms, tears stinging her eyes, and charges out of the room, barely dodging another flying chunk of concrete.
Vander’s voice crackles over the comms, asking for her position, but Vi doesn’t respond.
Her legs feel like lead as she drags her feet across the floor, hurrying towards the sunlight and listening to the building creak behind her.
Caitlyn’s limp body feels like it weighs nothing and yet a hundred pounds at the same time as she runs out, vision blurry.
Please, Caitlyn. Don’t do this to me.
~~~
“I need oxygen and a saline flush!” Vi yells as she stumbles out of the fire and sets Caitlyn down on the ground.
Vi’s heart is pounding in her chest as she yanks off her helmet, then Caitlyn’s cracked one. EMTs are crowding around her, shouting, talking, asking for this and that, but Vi’s not really listening. She’s too busy trying not to cry, trying not to think about what she saw in the fire, trying to save Caitlyn.
Then she feels a steady hand on her shoulder, and Vander’s voice is kind. “Vi.”
Vi appreciates the sentiment, but she doesn’t have time. She turns her head to look at Vander, but then Caitlyn starts coughing, so she turns back around.
“Caitlyn!”
She grabs the oxygen bottle being held out to her and helps Caitlyn sit up, trying to blink away her tears. “Cait…?”
Caitlyn nods, coughing and clinging to her neck.
Vi’s voice is gentle and reassuring. “Can you hold this?” she asks, holding the bottle to Caitlyn’s face, and Caitlyn nods.
Vi picks Caitlyn up, and then she finds herself snapping at the EMTs, demanding a saline flush as Caitlyn starts babbling incoherently through the mask.
They get directed to an ambulance and Vi climbs inside, where she shushes Caitlyn gently and sets her on the gurney. Caitlyn can’t see right now — her eyes are squeezed shut, the corners red and leaking — so Vi takes her hand before she speaks, careful not to startle her.
Vi’s vaguely aware of the other EMT sitting quietly in the corner of the ambulance, and then it starts moving.
“Hold the bottle,” she tells Caitlyn. “We’re in the ambulance now, okay? I’m gonna take off your jacket.”
Caitlyn nods, and Vi eases her out of her firefighting gear, the heavy jacket hitting the floor with a thud. Beneath, her T-shirt is damp with sweat, her skin hot to the touch.
“I’m gonna put an ice pack on your neck, okay?”
Another nod. Vi presses the towel-wrapped pack to the back of Caitlyn’s neck. Caitlyn’s still coughing and trying to speak through it all, but the words don’t make sense — and Vi can’t bring herself to ask her to repeat them.
Instead, she swallows back the lump in her throat and tries to focus — not on the smoke still clinging to her skin, or the phantom blood she swears is under her nails, or the way Caitlyn had looked beneath the rubble.
The image of flame-ravaged bodies still haunts her. She’s carried it for twenty years.
She’d tried to silence that part of her. Buried it deep.
But watching Caitlyn fall — seeing that broken mask and limp body — ripped the lid right off.
Vi clears her throat, lifts the saline bottle, and shifts on the gurney beside her.
“I need to rinse your eyes out, okay?” Her voice is gentler now, but it still cracks at the edges. “Can you just… lean toward me? Toward my voice?”
Caitlyn coughs again but does as asked, oxygen still clutched in one hand. Vi wraps her arm around her shoulders, cradling the back of her head with one hand, the saline flush in the other.
“Cait?”
A muffled sound — “Mm?”
“This is gonna sting like hell. But I’m here. Just trust me, alright?”
Caitlyn nods, and Vi begins. The saline streams over Caitlyn’s red, irritated eyes. Caitlyn flinches, her body tensing as a cry catches in her throat. Her free hand fists the front of Vi’s shirt, trembling.
Vi leans in, her voice low and steady, murmuring nonsense, comfort, anything — just to keep her grounded.
Eventually, the flush is done. Vi dabs gently at Caitlyn’s face with a clean cloth, careful not to press too hard. Caitlyn sags against her, spent.
“Done,” Vi whispers, brushing damp strands of hair from Caitlyn’s face.
Caitlyn doesn’t speak — not yet. But her breathing is steadier now. Her grip on Vi’s shirt loosens, and Vi feels a knot in her chest start to untangle herself.
She lifts Caitlyn’s head to her face and presses her lips to her sweaty hairline, her eyes stinging — but not from smoke.
“You’re safe.”
Chapter 2
Notes:
Hi and welcome back!
Reminder: this is the happy ending ver of this fic. if you want to you are welcome to check out the sad ending version (for now its the same nothings different yet but it will be)
Uh I have nothing to say about this chapter except for standard stuff: PTSD ofc and Vi with her hero complex my poor baby (I say that knowing full well it's gonna get worse so I'm sorry)
Yeah okay that's literally it for this chapter. Lotta fluff and pain but not quite there yet.
Feel free to drop me a follow on Insta/X @zephrite_ao3 for updates and stuffs :)
Have a splendid day~
Chapter Text
Caitlyn’s consciousness fades back in increments. She’s vaguely aware of the stinging pain in her eyes, and the uncontrollable coughing along with the fire in her lungs.
Beyond that, she’s barely in control of her body. She hears voices — some familiar, others new. Something is being pressed against her mouth, and then she’s weightless, with a steady force against her neck and knees and her fingers loosely wrapped around something cold and metal.
But she can breathe, and not a single instinct is telling her to run from whoever the hell is carrying her, so she doesn’t.
She feels herself being set down on something relatively soft, and she hunches over instinctively, still trying to say something through all the coughing and smoke.
There’s a voice talking to her, and then an ice pack on the back of her neck.
The ringing in her ears fades, and the voice asks for Caitlyn to lean towards…
Vi.
Caitlyn’s swallowing a lump in her throat as she leans towards the sound of Vi’s comforting voice, and she feels a hand holding the back of her head.
And suddenly, a stinging saline solution is being run over her eyes, and she cries out, fingers clenching around Vi’s shirt.
Vi talks softly, gently, enough to keep her grounded and relatively calm. Through her haze, she manages to choke out Vi’s name, her voice hoarse and vocal cords straining with effort.
She knows Vi doesn’t hear her, since the next thing Vi says is, “Done.”
A cloth dabs across Caitlyn’s eyes, and she relaxes a bit more, melting into Vi’s lap.
Caitlyn claws at Vi’s shirt, and then a kiss is planted on her forehead and someone else is holding the bottle, leaving her hands are free.
“You’re safe,” Vi murmurs, and Caitlyn coughs some more, trying to say something.
She pries her eyes open, and her eyes tear from the effort, but when she sees Vi’s face hovering above her, she decides that it’s worth it.
“Hi,” she manages.
She watches Vi swallow. “Hey.”
“You okay?” Her voice is muffled and raspy through the mask.
Vi nods, but Caitlyn can feel the oxygen bottle shaking… because Vi’s trembling.
“You’re shaking,” Caitlyn notes.
Vi shakes her head and smiles, but Caitlyn knows it’s forced. “I’m fine.”
Caitlyn’s opening her mouth to protest, but then the ambulance jerks to a stop and the doors fly open. EMTs flood the ambulance, and she hears a male voice saying, “We’ll take it from here.”
Then she’s being pulled out of Vi’s arms and not another stretcher, and she barely hears Vi protesting as the doctors wheel her in to do a quick checkup and further treatment if necessary.
~~~
Vi sighs, wringing her hands through her hair.
She’s been pacing the hospital hallways for twenty minutes now, waiting for an update or something on Caitlyn.
Her fingertips tingle with nonexistent blood, and Vi shakes her head, trying to clear the memory.
It had been nearly a decade since her last nightmare, or flashback, or anything of the sort, even with her job as a firefighter. But just… seeing Caitlyn so vulnerable, so fragile… it broke something inside of her.
Vi gasps for air, realising she’s been holding her breath too long.
She feels the heat of a fire licking at her skin, and she doubles over. Her breath is ragged, coming too hard and too fast, and her head spins.
Her feet stumble over the floor, and her stomach sours as she drags herself toward the bathroom.
Stop it.
Vi gasps again, heart pounding as she sees the lifeless eyes of the people she loved most flashing in her head.
Then they turn into Caitlyn, and Vi sees what could have become of her.
She retches, knees hitting the floor, and her head dips as she throws up the contents of her breakfast into the toilet.
Sweat trickles down her face, tears slipping down her cheeks.
Another dry heave, and Vi feels her heart pulse in her chest, rough and uneven.
Vi collapses against the bathroom wall, back hitting the tile with a soft thud. Her arms hang limply at her sides, hands smeared with her own tears and spit and god knows what else. She stares at the opposite wall, unfocused, vision swimming.
Her voice cracks before she even realizes she’s spoken. “You can’t die on me.”
It’s barely more than a whisper, but it rips something open inside her.
“Not you too.”
She slams a fist into the tile beside her, the impact echoing too loud in the sterile silence. She doesn’t care.
She doesn’t care that her knuckles throb. Doesn’t care that her hand is trembling.
She just wants to see Caitlyn’s eyes again. Not clouded. Not distant. Alive.
Vi drags herself up to the sink and forces herself to meet her own reflection — the same shattered look in her eyes that used to haunt her every single night.
Bloodshot. Wild. Unfocused.
She drags her hand across the back of her mouth again, spitting into the sink one last time.
I can’t lose anyone like that again…
~~~
Caitlyn winces against her aching head as the doctor speaks — she’s been put in concussion protocol.
The sting in her eyes has faded, but she’s still got an oxygen mask on, making her breath and voice sound raspy when she thanks the doctor.
“Is there anyone waiting for you? Should I get them?” he asks, shutting the clipboard.
Caitlyn frowns. She knows Vi came with her, but whether or not she’s still in the hospital is another matter. Hoping for the best, she tells the doctor, “There’s another firefighter who came with me. I’m not sure if she’s still here, but if she is, could you… send her in?”
The doctor nods and slides the door shut, then Caitlyn’s alone in the room.
She sighs, moving to sit a little further back on the mattress, listening to the beeping of her heart monitor. Her eyes flick to the clock — it’s been a little over three hours since the call.
The door slides open again, and Caitlyn lifts her head.
Vi’s standing there, but she looks… worse than Caitlyn feels.
Her face is pale and sweaty, her hair matted with sweat and sticking up all over the place. When she meets Caitlyn’s gaze, Caitlyn sees the bloodshot eyes, the gaze that seems shattered yet vacant at the same time.
She recalls the oxygen bottle shaking against her mouth, and suddenly she sees Vi’s trembling hands.
Vi takes a few steps forward, then she rushes to Caitlyn and pulls her into a hug.
Caitlyn’s caught by surprise, and she lets out a muffled gasp before letting her own body melt against Vi’s, grateful for something solid and warm to focus on. She hears Vi sniffle a bit, and she pats Vi’s sweaty back.
Vi takes a step back, her hands on Caitlyn’s shoulders, eyes running all over her body. Her voice is raspy. “You okay?”
Caitlyn nods, then reaches up to pull down the mask so she can talk. “I’ve been put in concussion protocol, but besides that and a few cuts and scrapes, I’m fine.”
Vi’s shoulders sag, and then she cups Caitlyn’s jaw slowly and gently tugs her face forward to capture her lips. Caitlyn sighs into the kiss, hands wandering up Vi’s back to hold her in place.
She breaks from the kiss, slightly breathless, and notices Vi’s watery eyes. “Vi…?”
“Hm?” Vi turn away, but Caitlyn catches the quiet sniffle and the way she moves to wipe her tears.
“Are you okay?”
Vi’s voice catches for a second, but Caitlyn hears it. She notes the tremble in her voice when she talks. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. Just… worried about you.”
“I’m okay, Vi.” Caitlyn’s hand moves on its own accord, sliding down to interlace Vi’s calloused fingers with her own. “There’s no need to cry.”
Vi sniffles again and nods, but something tells Caitlyn her tears and shakiness go far beyond the accident in the fire. There’s something deeper, darker, more dangerous that’s stewing in Vi’s heart that she’s not telling Caitlyn.
Caitlyn also knows Vi’s not one to be vulnerable, and the more one pushes the less she talks, so Caitlyn chooses not to say anything about her own suspicion. Instead, she kisses Vi’s knuckles and tries for a smile to soothe Vi.
“Accidents are inevitable in our line of work, Vi,” she says gently. “I had to… make sure the rookies were safe, too. They’re our responsibility.”
“I know.” Vi’s voice is fragile, like one small misstep would cause her mind and body to shatter entirely. “I just… you almost didn’t make it out, Cait. I can’t…”
Her voice cracks, and she stops talking.
“But I’m here,” Caitlyn whispers, her voice tender. “And I’m here because you saved me. I’m here… because of you.”
Vi sniffles again, and she meets Caitlyn’s gaze. Caitlyn smiles, trying to hide her own worry for Vi.
“You saved me,” she says softly, pulling Vi in for a gentle kiss that feels like home. “Thank you.”
She feels Vi’s body melt into hers, and Vi buries her face in Caitlyn’s neck. Vi doesn’t say anything. She just stays there, curled into Caitlyn’s embrace, breathing like it’s the only thing she knows how to do. Caitlyn’s fingers card gently through her hair, untangling some of the sweaty knots with slow, comforting strokes.
Eventually, Caitlyn whispers, “I’m okay, Vi. We’re okay.”
Vi doesn’t respond — not with words. But Caitlyn feels her arms lock around her body, feels Vi press a little harder into her skin like it’s the only thing anchoring her… and it says enough.
Outside the room, the hospital keeps moving. But inside it, time slows down just enough for Vi to breathe again.
~~~
Vi exhales steadily, dropping her keys into the basket by the front door and listening to Caitlyn close the door.
The doctors discharged her earlier that day and put her on concussion protocol, so Vi just took her home.
Their home, the apartment they shared.
It feels good to have Caitlyn with her, safe and present, but Vi can’t stop the gnawing feeling in the back of her head. She scrubs her hands down the rough sides of her jacket, trying to ward off the phantom sensation of blood drying on her hands and erase the memory of Caitlyn’s cracked mask and the fire and smoke shrouding them.
Caitlyn’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts.
“I’m gonna take a shower, okay?”
Vi nods, noting the slight difference in tone of Caitlyn’s voice but choosing not to say anything about it.
She hears Caitlyn shut the shower door after a beat, then lets herself collapse on the couch. She presses her knuckles into her eyes, forcing herself to stay grounded to the world and not think about the blood on her hands, the limp bodies in her arms —
Vi gags, stumbling to the sink and retching heavily. There’s nothing in her system — she hasn’t eaten anything since that morning, fearing her own past and the nausea that came with it.
She turns on the tap, trying to rinse her mouth, as though it would get rid of the bitter taste lingering on her tongue.
Her grip tightens on the edge of the sink. I can’t let it happen again.
She shakes her head violently. It’s been ten years since she forced that lid shut, trapping her own nightmares and inner demons in a box and shoving it so far inside even she doesn’t know how to find it. And yet, somehow, seeing Caitlyn in that fragile, unconscious state, with her mask cracked and smoke and flames and concrete all around her… it rips the cover right off.
Now, her past is exploding all around her — and she is still determined to keep it invisible.
She has to protect Caitlyn. Protect her from her own monsters, even if it costs Vi her sanity.
Vi takes a shaky breath and rinses her face, trying to clear her thoughts.
Caitlyn doesn’t know. She can’t know.
In the three years they’ve been dating, Vi hasn’t ever had an episode. She hasn’t had one for a decade now.
And somehow, she knows that her own flashback that afternoon in the hospital is just the beginning.
The beginning of something that will break her.
Something that she has to hide from Caitlyn.
No matter the cost.
Caitlyn_kiramountain_lover on Chapter 1 Tue 12 Aug 2025 08:47PM UTC
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Zephrite on Chapter 1 Tue 12 Aug 2025 10:38PM UTC
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