Nathan tied off the last bandage, compounding from his day job, his muscles were tense now, but years of training on how to be a medic meant he could keep his hands steady enough to save the man lying on the table. Though far from his best job, the man would live.
Marco hovered close, his eyes following every movement. When Nathan finally stepped back, wiping his hands on a rag that was already soaked through, Marco let out a low whistle.
"You patched him up while driving like that?" Marco shook his head with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Cole, you're wasted as a paramedic."
Nathan didn't answer. He was too busy recollecting everything that happened on the night. Too much had happened. Usually he was someone that thought through everything he did. Entering the night life, and becoming a skill for hire were things he thought of long before committing. But the nights actions were not part of the equation.
He could have easily abandoned the job when he realized the police were on their trail. At the end of the day, it was because he needed the money for Lily's treatment .
Nathan dropped the rag. "I'm not sticking around for thanks, Marco. Just give me the pay."
Marco didn't argue. He dug into his jacket, pulled out a thick envelope, and shoved it into Nathan's hand. Nathan didn't even bother counting. He knew the weight of desperation when he held it.
Marco clapped his shoulder. "You just saved my crew and my ass. The triple pay is worth every cent. And Cole…"
Nathan looked up.
"There's a job coming. Not like tonight. Bigger. One score, and you could walk away. Lily never has to worry about meds, rent, social workers breathing down your neck. All of it gone."
Nathan let out a laugh that had no humor in it. "You don't get it. I'm not a criminal. Tonight was it."
Marco smirked like he'd heard it all before. "Yeah. That's what everyone says at the start."
Nathan shoved the envelope into his jacket and turned away. "You want my answer?... It's no."
The woman from the crew stepped in. "We need to go. Sirens are still circling."
The reminder pulled them all back. Nathan grabbed his kit while Marco and the others moved fast, wiping prints and collecting anything they'd touched. The smell of gasoline hit Nathan's nose as Marco sloshed it over the SUV. A second later, a flare hissed to life.
The vehicle burned hot and fast, the metal groaning as the fire ate through it. Sirens still prowled somewhere in the city, faint but not gone.
Nathan didn't wait for the goodbye. He just gave Marco one last look and slipped into the night.
The apartment was silent when he slid the key into the lock. It was barely dawn, the sky outside the narrow window still blue-black.
He eased the door shut behind him, kicking off his shoes in the quiet. The apartment was still, only the soft hum of the fridge breaking the silence. When he reached the bedroom and saw them asleep, he finally exhaled."
Lily was curled on the small bed, oxygen tube resting gently against her tiny nose. Claire was next to her, one arm draped over the little girl, her dark hair a mess against the pillow.
Nathan stood there for a second that stretched too long. The weight of the night hit all at once. The smell of smoke still clung to his clothes. Blood under his nails. His whole world was right there on that bed.
He stripped off his jacket and boots as quietly as he could and slid into the other side. The mattress dipped. Claire stirred, her voice soft and slurred with sleep.
"Are you just getting home?"
Nathan kissed her temple. "Mhm. Work ran late."
She hummed, already half-asleep again, and tucked herself closer to Lily. Nathan lay there with his arm across both of them, staring at the ceiling until exhaustion dragged him under.
The morning sunlight woke him. Thin streaks sneaking through the blinds.
"Daddy!"
Nathan blinked and found Lily sitting up, a grin far too bright for a kid who'd spent the night tethered to a plastic tube. Claire crouched beside her, slipping the oxygen line off with practiced hands, checking her breathing out of habit.
"Hey, bug." Nathan sat on the edge of the bed and ruffled her hair. "You're supposed to still be asleep."
Lily giggled and held out her arms. "You weren't here. Now you are."
Nathan felt that familiar ache in his chest as he lifted her, mindful of her light weight without the tubing.
Claire leaned back against the wall, gathering her hair into a knot. The nurse mode never really left her. Even in an old T-shirt, she had the calm efficiency of someone who'd seen too many emergencies.
"You came in late," his girlfriend said quietly.
"Hmm. Just work, babe." Nathan kept his tone casual, bouncing Lily lightly. "New guy froze on a call. Had to cover."
Claire gave him a look that said she didn't quite buy it, but she didn't press. She just reached for the pill organizer on the nightstand and started prepping Lily's morning meds.
"Treatment plan came in yesterday." Her voice was careful, too careful. "It's… more than last time."
Nathan's grip on Lily didn't change but his expression did. "How much more?"
Claire hesitated, "Almost twelve grand a month now. That's meds, tank refills, and the specialist." twelve grand. That was half a year of overtime compressed into thirty days.
He set Lily back on the bed and kissed her forehead. "Don't worry about it. I'll put five toward it first thing."
Claire's head snapped up. "Five thousand? From where?"
"Picked up some extra work." He reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, keeping his tone as casual as if they were talking about groceries.
"Right," she said softly, brushing a hand over Lily's hair—not calling him out but not buying it either.
The kitchen was barely big enough for one person but Nathan squeezed in, the cramped space forcing him to turn sideways past the counter. He turned on the tap, scrubbing at the faint red smudges under his nails. Even after everything, it clung like it didn't want to let go.
The voicemail light on the counter phone blinked. He hit play without looking.
"Mr. Cole, your evaluation is in two weeks. Stability is key if you want custody to remain as is. Any signs of unsafe environment, late payments, or medical neglect will force us to intervene. We will always act in the child's best inter—"
Beep.
Nathan deleted it before the voice could finish.
His phone buzzed on the table. A text from Marco.
One job, Cole. Think about it.
Nathan stared at it for a long time, the water still running, his reflection in the window looking back like it belonged to someone else.