Emery Begins.

chapter twenty three , The Past Needs to Stay in The Past

a/n : If you've watched Station 19, you'll recognize the call of this episode is from 1x09, Hot Box.

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Then

The 16 year old had her headphones over her ears while Shaggy's It Wasn't Me played. Every now and then, incoherent hums would come from the 16 year old. Which would cause eyes to fall on her. All unbeknownst to her. Her dark brown eyes were skimming across the computer, while chewing on a pretzel stick. She was so in her own work and head that she didn't even notice someone standing bedside her, until someone tapped her shoulder.

Emery lets out a small yelp and turns around to the person. Her heart beat pounds through her ears. She looks at the girl in front of her and the terror quickly slips from her body. Now she was just embarrassed.

The girl waves a small hand. Emery pulls her headphones off. "Sup—hey!" She places a hand on her cheek and another hand on her hip. Emery then adjusts her coffee brown glasses.

The girl softly laughs, "Hi!" She adjusts the straps of her bag on her shoulder. "I don't know if you know me, but I'm—"

"Helena Garcia." Emery nods her head. "Yeah, I know who you are." She laughs nervously. "We were in English, Algebra, Geometry, U.S. History...and now I'm talking too much. It's weird."

Helena laughs, "Yeah, we did have all those classes together." She looks at her boots. "I didn't think you noticed."

"Of course, I did." Emery exhales, her eyes filled with awe for the girl. "My name's—"

"Emerson. Emery. Em..." Helena tilts her head. "Sharpe."

Emery's stomach flutters and she smiles. "Yeah, that's me...all of those names."

Both girls look at each other in silence for a second. Emery keeps her brown eyes on Helena's hazel green ones. "I can't believe you know who I am..."

Helena raises her brows, "Is it really that surprising?"

"Well, with the friends you have and you being...popular yeah. It's a tad bit surprising." Emery nods her head. "You're a cheerleader and I'm the one on the side, taking pictures of you."

Helena pulls her brows together, but she softly smiles. Emery's jaw goes slack. "For photography club!" She points at the computer, revealing the pictures she was editing.

Helena slightly opens her mouth and her smile widens. "Oh, wow! Those are amazing."

Helena slightly leans forward, her face beside Emery's. Emerson looks at the girl and notices how close they were. Helena turns the girl and meets Emerson's eyes. The girl shifts her eyes across Emery's lips then quickly back to her eyes. Helena giggles softly, noticing Emery's glasses were sliding down the bridge of her nose.

Helena softly chuckles, "Can I ask you for something?" She uses her pointer finger to push Emery's glasses up.

"Yes." Emery then closes her eyes and her face heats up out of embarrassment. "I said that too fast, didn't I?"

"Kinda—yeah." Helena winces, a smile on her lips.

Emerson laughs and looks at her hands. "Uh, what did you need?"

"Right, I was wondering if you could take some photos of me and my family. We have this annual family reunion thing and this time my parents want pictures." Helena explains. "And you're the first person who came to my mind."

Emery's face gets hot and her heart rate quickens. "Oh..." a smile forms on her lips. She bites her lower lip and looks away from the girl. Emery felt like screaming so loud right now. But she had to keep it cool. Be cool, Emerson.

Emery looks back at Helena and slightly shrugs a shoulder. She leans her elbow on the table, but it ends up slipping; which causes her to fall out of her chair and onto the ground. Helena slaps a hand over her face and gasps. "Emery, are you—"

"I would love to help you." Emerson jumps back onto her feet and straightens out her crewneck and pushes the brim of her thick glasses up.

Helena rolls her lips into her mouth. "Cool!" She grabs a pen and walks over to Emery. "Here..." Helena gently grabs Emery's wrist and the Sharpe girl thought she was going to faint. Her hands are so soft.

Emery then inhales a small breath and a chill runs down her spine from the scent of papaya and pomegranate hitting her nose. Helena scribbles information across the palm of Emery's hand. "We can meet at my house, if you want. Here's the number to the landline at my house." She puts the cap back onto the pen and looks at Emery, who's eyes were already on her. "Call me. And we'll figure something out, 'kay?"

Helena then places the pen in Emery's hand. She closes Emery's hand around the pen. Emery opens and closes her mouth as Helena gives her a smile and walks away. As Helena walks farther away, Emery was finally able to gain the courage to speak.

"'K-Kay!"

Now

"This can't be happening—this can't be happening!"

The brunette rushes down the streets of L.A., ditching her broken down car. She lets out quick "I'm sorry's" while brushing past the crowds, wondering why the hell none of these people were at work? Someone's shoulder rams into hers and she stumbles forward.

"Watch it!"

"Crap—I'm sorry!" The girl then falls forward, she catches herself with her hands and they scrape against the concrete. The brunette lets out a gasp of pain. She looks at her bleeding palms and inhales. She quickly stands up and sprints down the street again. The woman pivots the corner and her destination comes into view. Her face lights up, "Yes!—"

She slams into another body and iced coffee spills all over her and the person in front of her. "No!"

The brunette looks down at her coffee drenched blouse and she lets out a huff. She looks at the lady in front of her and holds her hands up. "I-I'm sorry—I'm running late!" She then continues to run toward the building.

The woman makes it into the building and makes it to the front desk. She places her hands on the surface of the desk, her brown curled hair was now frizzy and sweat was beaded across her face.

"The conference...room." She breathes heavily. "Where?"

The man slightly opens his mouth, terrified of the disheveled woman in front of him. "Uh—down the hall to the left—"

"Thank you!" She runs down the hall and pivots the corner. The brunette sees the room with large glass windows and a room full of people.

Then fear fills her chest. Now she's going to have to barge into this room full of people. And they're going to think she's someone whose always late.

"Oh, God..."

The woman slides the door open and stands in the doorway. All heads turn and look at her. She freezes and her heart begins to pound in her ears. Her face gets hot. "I-I-I'm..." she inhales a small breath and closes her eyes. She then opens her eyes once again.

"I'm sorry, I'm late. My car broke down, so I ran here, then I got iced coffee all over me because some people don't watch where they're going and now I'm here—late and not in uniform. I'm sorry." Gwen finishes her quick explanation and sucks in a sharp breath. "Okay, okay..."

Everyone stares at her and a few people exchange glances. Then almost all together, everyone bursts out laughing. Her face heats up in embarrassment and she rolls her lips into her mouth.

"You must be Marshall, right?"

The brunette's back straightens and she slightly lifts her chin. "Yes, ma'am."

"Well, Marshall, take a seat. Once you meet your TO, you can get dressed."

The brunette nods her head, "Yes, ma'am." She rushes to the front desks and sits next to two other men in their long sleeves.

"Just your luck, huh?"

She looks over at the men and slightly opens her mouth. "Uh—right. I might just be the unluckiest person in the world."

"Rookies! Stand up and introduce yourselves."

"You to the far left!"

The man stands up, "My name is Milo Whitmore!"

"And whose your TO?"

Milo turns and sees someone stand up. "Charles Downy."

"Next!"

Every rookie introduces themselves. Until it was finally her turn.

The brunette shoots out of her seat. "Uh, Wren Marshall! And my TO is..." she looks around. "I...don't see anybody else, ma'am."

The Captain smiles, "She's running a bit late."

Wren smiles. At least she and her Training Officer could bond over that.

"Here she is now, Sergeant Grant!"

Wren looks at the lady who just entered the room and her smile drops. "Oh, God..."

Athena looks at the woman with a coffee stain on her shirt. "Well, well, well. If it isn't, coffee shirt."

Wren swallows, "The lady I ran into is my...Training officer?" She then forces a smile. "It's—I'm sorry for—"

"Save it, coffee shirt." Athena looks at the woman and chuckles. "How about you go change, so we can get our shift started?"

Wren's back straightens, "Y-Yes ma'am!" She then starts to run out of the room. Athena holds up a hand and Wren stops in her tracks.

"How about you slow down? That's how we got into trouble in the first place." Athena gives Wren a pointed look.

Wren opens then closes her mouth. "Yes, ma'am." She then walks out of the room. Before Wren leaves, she hears the room erupt into laughter again.

☆

Today was going to be rough.

Emerson knew that, this day always was a struggle. Everything sounded muffled. But her eyes stayed trained on the calendar. It was the 21st. The only day she had to keep herself busy. If she kept herself busy, then she wouldn't think.

A hand is felt on her arm and she jumps. Emery looks over at her sister and blinks. "Hey, Maya. What are you doing up?"

Amaya rubs her eyes, "I could ask you the same thing." She looks over at the clock that reads 2:30 am. "Em, why are you dressed?"

"I have a shift."

"No, you don't." Amaya sags her shoulders. "Em, you just came back from a shift a few hours ago? Why would you even...?" Her eyes trail over to the calendar and notices the date. The younger sister closes her mouth and a breath leaves her nose. She looks over at Emery, who's eyes were focused on something else.

"Em—"

"So, I should be back around midnight. That's if I'm off early." Emery grabs her jacket and bags. "I'm really sorry I woke you, Maya." She grabs her keys and looks at Amaya.

Amaya's eyes soften, "Don't apologize." She softly sighs. "So, you're only working really hard today?"

Emery shrugs, "I work hard everyday." She slips her bag onto her shoulder. "I need to get goi—"

"You don't have to keep this in, you know that, right?" Amaya follows her sister to the front door. "You can talk to me."

"I don't need to talk. I need to get to work." Emery forces out a chuckle. "I love you, and now I've got to go." She then opens the door and leaves the apartment. Amaya watched as her sister walks down the hall and she lets out a small breath, worried about her big sister.

...

She was quieter than usual. And that's saying something since she's never quiet. Normally, Emery would throw a snide comment at Buck or even tell him to do something besides playing Mario Kart. But she was different today. Emery had her eyes on her clipboard, but she wasn't giving anyone orders. There was something wrong.

"So, who's going to talk to her?"

Chimney shakes his head, "I don't know..." he inhales. "I don't want her to get mad at me." He looks at Hen. "How about you go? There's no way she'd yell at you."

"And what if she does yell at me?—Then I'd have to yell back." Hen scoffs. "It'd just end up becoming a screaming match." She then looks at Eddie. "How about you? Aren't you two best friends?"

"Yeah, but...she's scary." Eddie shrugs. "Especially when you push her on sharing feelings."

The three firefighters look at Buck. The boy raises his brows, "Uh, I don't think I should be the one to talk to her."

"Why not? She despises you." Chimney says. "It's better to have someone she doesn't like talk to her."

Buck frowns. He understood what they were saying, but at the same time; it kind of hurt to hear that Emery didn't like her. Then he remembered, that's why they started hooking up in the first place.

"Fine, I can—I'll talk to her." Buck holds his hands up. He cautiously walks toward the girl. Her hair was braided into two French braids while her uniform was steamed and tucked. Just the way she liked it. Emery was tapping the end of her pen against her lower lip. A crease was deep between her brows. She was far into thought and she hated when people would interrupt that. Of course, Buck had to be the one to do that.

Buck clears his throat, "Hey, Emi?"

The girl closes her eyes and exhales through her nose. "Can I help you, Buck?"

Buck inhales a breath and rubs his jeans. "Well, you know, everyone seems...worried about you."

Emery purses her lips, "Worried about me?" She turns to him. "Why? I haven't said anything."

Buck points at her, "Exactly. You haven't given us any chores or critiqued the way our uniforms aren't steamed."

Emery arches a brow, "Well, you guys are adults. I'm sure you can handle that yourselves, right?" She snorts and turns her back to him.

"Okay, Emi, hold on." He gently grabs her wrist. Emery runs her tongue over her teeth and turns back to him, her eye twitching. Now Buck knew she was pissed. "If...you need someone to talk to—"

"You'd be the last person I'd go to."

Buck closes his mouth and Emery raises her brows. "We're not friends. Remember? Just because I helped you out with dealing with Devon's death, doesn't mean you have to help me with He—" she quickly cuts herself off, not wanting to let anymore information get out. "I'm okay, Buck. Thank you for checking in on me. But I'm O-kay."

The alarm rings off in the station. Emery blows air out of her mouth and looks at Buck. "Saved by the bell."

Emery brushes past Buck and runs down the stairs toward the Rig. She slips her turnout gear on, and gets into the driver's seat. She just needed to get through this day without thinking about her dead wife.

How hard could that be?

☆

Then

The house was always quiet.

The silence would be filled with the disappointment the Sharpe parents made especially clear was due to Emery's lack of diligence. And if it wasn't quiet, her mom was asking her about her grades and college decisions every five seconds. So, Emerson didn't mind it. She was always in her own world anyway. It was calm in her world. Comforting. Sadly, she wasn't able to make time to go to her world tonight.

The dinner table was silent, while everyone ate. Emery had her eyes glued to her baked chicken, like she was going to marry it. She was tapping each of her individual fingers against the pad of her thumb. Emery then grabs her fork and begins to eat.

"I don't like the quiet game."

Emery looks over at the 9 year old. Amaya's hair was in a curly ponytail; that she did herself (and she was very proud of it), her left front adult tooth was slightly growing in. Anytime she talked, the slight growing tooth isn't seen, so it just looks like her left tooth isn't present. She was adorable.

"We're eating, Maya. So, it makes sense why we're all quiet." Amara gives her youngest daughter a small smile and lightly touches her face. Emery shifts her gaze over to the mother and daughter. Utter loneliness is what Emery feels. A gentle hand is felt on her arm and Emery blinks. She looks over at her father and he gives her a comforting smile.

"How was your day today, Em? You had a presentation today, right?"

Emery inhales a small breath and she gives her father a grateful timid smile. "It went well." She slows her chewing. "My teacher said my research was astounding."

"Whoa, that's a big word, Em!" Amaya exclaims. "You must've been so good!"

"Good job, sweetheart." Elijah lightly shakes Emerson's shoulders and the daughter laughs.

"What grade did you get?"

Emery looks over at her mother and tenses. "Uh, I don't know, the grade's going to be in by the end of the week though."

Amara let's out a small hum. The hum she always made when she was unsatisfied. Emery's smile lessens and she looks down at her plate of food, wishing she never said anything. "B-But, I'm sure if I ask tomorrow, Mrs. Richards will put a rush on it."

Then a smile forms on Amara's lips. "Excellent."

In that moment, Emery's body felt light. She felt seen. Like she was doing a good job at being a perfect daughter.

"Emerson, tomorrow you need to finish that project." Amara speaks, wiping at her face with the napkin.

A crease forms between Emery's brows. "But, it's not due until the 20th."

Amara arches a brow, "Is that going to be a problem?"

Emery's back straightens, "No, ma'am."

"Good." Amara smiles. "Make sure you eat your mashed potatoes, sweetheart." She stands up with her plate and puts it in the dishwasher. Emery keeps her eyes on her plate and her chest tightens. Nothing is ever good enough.

I'm not good enough.

I'm not perfect.

"Hey, Em."

Emery looks at her father and he softly smiles. "How about you go up to your room, read that new book I just got you?"

Emery raises her brows, "But mom said I had to finished the mashed potatoes."

"Don't worry about what mom said." Elijah grabs her plate from her. "I've got it. Trust me." He then gives her a wink.

Emery's face lights up, she jumps out of her seat and kisses her dad on the cheek. "Thanks, dad!" She then runs up the stairs. Elijah smiles at his daughter's excitement.

"Do I have to eat my spinach?" Amaya picks up some of the green goop with her fork and drops it onto the plate with a "Yuck!"

Elijah bites the inside of his cheek. "Go on, get out of here." He smiles. Amaya giggles and throws her hands up. "You're the bestest dad in the whoooole world!" She hops out of her chair and runs over to her dad. Amaya jumps up and kisses her dad on the cheek before sprinting up the stairs.

Now

Emery slows the Fire Engine to a stop and parks it. She normally wasn't the one driving the rig. But today was different. Today she was the one giving orders. Bobby knew Emery had the potential to be Lieutenant—Captain even (but let's not get into that right now), but he needed Emery to see it too. And today was the day Bobby was giving her control.

She jumps out of the fire engine and rounds the rig. Emery makes her way over to the screaming couple.

"I can't believe you called the police." The wife seethes.

"Yeah, I can't believe that you would resort to theft." The husband raises his voice.

"Okay, let's just calm down." Athena speaks. "What were you saying again about your wife starting the fire?"

"Um, ex-wife—to be— and, no, I didn't." The woman speaks.

"She decided to burn all my stuff—"

"Not all of it—some, you know, like really bad stuff, like his leather pants."

The woman next to Athena snorts. "Leather pants? Who told you those were a good idea?"

Athena snaps her eyes over to the woman and squints her eyes. The brunette's jaw goes slack. "I-I mean—I'll tell you they're a good idea. Because leather pants are soooo cool." She gives the man an awkward thumbs up.

Emery tilts her head at the new deputy. "Sergeant Grant?"

Athena turns to the curly-haired girl and smiles. "Oh, if it isn't the Lieutenant!" She looks at Wren. "Continue questioning them, coffee shirt."

Wren nods her head, "Yes, ma'am."

Emery's face gets hot and she chuckles. "Oh, no...not at the moment. This is just a trial run, right now."

"Well, I'm wishing you good luck." Athena gives her a small arm squeeze. Emery gives Athena a small grateful smile. "So, what do we got?"

"Items were burning in a fireplace at the back of the house—seems like the fire sprung up in there." Athena explains, she points at the top of the house where the smoke was. Emery squints her eyes at the smoke.

"Looks pretty contained from what we've seen so far. No one else is in the house—"

"Can I get a copy of the report for insurance purposes?" The husband walks toward the Sergeant and future Lieutenant. "I've been through the house, and there are items definitely missing."

The wife walks toward her soon to be husband and Wren's mouth slightly opens.

"Oh, okay, and you call me paranoid." The wife snaps.

"Uh, excuse me, I wasn't done interviewing, the two of you..." Wren trails off her sentence when she gets a good look of the curly-haired girl. Her heart drops into her stomach and her mouth opens. "Oh, God...Oh my God." She looks away from the girl and closes her eyes. "Please let this be a dream, please, please, please..." Wren opens her eyes and reluctantly looks back at the group. Her eyes meet Emery and she quietly whines.

"No, no, no..." Wren covers her eyes and sniffles. "This can't be happening to me." She takes her hands off her eyes and inhales a deep breath. Wren stalks toward the group. Out of the corner of her eye, Emery notices a figure moving awfully fast toward her. She looks at the person and her face drops.

"What the hell?"

Athena follows Emery's eyes. "Oh, right. Emerson, let me introduce you to my rookie. This is—"

"Wren."

Athena frowns, "I just call her coffee shirt, but I guess Wren could work since that's her name." She shrugs.

"Ahahaha, good one, ma'am." Wren murmurs, her eyes still on Emery's. "Uh, hey, Em. How—"

"What are you doing here?"

Wren closes her mouth, she points at the badge on her left shoulder and Emery arches a brow. "Oh, wow...you're a cop. You?"

"Yeah, me." Wren nods. "And I see you're still a firefighter."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Emery growls, her tone laced with poison. Athena looks between the two, noticing the tension between the two. But she also noticed that only one of them was angry in this situation. Wren had a look of pain and guilt while Emery's face was filled with rage.

"Jeez and I thought our arguments would make this situation awkward." The soon to be wife speaks.

Emery and Wren look over at Athena and the estranged marriage couple. The curly-haired girl inhales a breath and holds it. This wasn't the plan. This was far from the plan. She presses a thumb between her brows. "Uh, I-I apologize." She forces out. "I lost my cool for a moment, but I'm okay now."

Emery snaps her eyes over to Wren, "The uniform looks good."

Before Wren could say anything, Emery speaks again.

"Can we take a look at your garage? Your husband was complaining about a thumbprint installation to get in and out?"

"Oh My God!" The wife rolls her eyes. "Of course you're complaining about it—your stuff is fine and I will prove it." She makes her way back into the garage.

"Uh, maybe don't go toward the house that's on fire." Wren speaks.

"It's nowhere near the garage." The wife states.

Emery walks back over to the rig, her chest tightening. She felt like pulling her hair out of her fucking head. Then she saw a flash of Helena's smile. It was the thing that could always make her smile, but now it just hurt to think about. All her pain she had was coming back like a punch in the gut. And it was all because of Wren. This wasn't a part of the plan.

"Fireplace origin, moved to interior walls." Emery voices, ignoring her pain and anger. "Chimney's the only vent."

"Yeah?"

Tom chuckles, "She meant the actual Chimney, Chim."

Chimney looks at the chimney on the house and slightly opens his mouth. "Oh..." he then winks. "Right."

"You wanna stuff it?" Buck leans against the rig and eyes Emery. She arches a brow and looks over at him. Buck smirks at the girl. He noticed that something was wrong, and he needed to help her get her head back in the game. Why not do that by saying a dirty joke?

"Hell, yeah, I want to stuff it." Emery looks him up an down. "Always do."

"I'm sorry—stuff what?" Tom speaks, his eyes wide.

"The turkey." The entire 118 speaks.

Tom blinks. "I don't know why you thought that would clear anything up—because it didn't."

"It's one of my favorite plays." Bobby voices. "You get an interior fire like this. Helps to hit it two ways: you soak the outside first. Seal the flame inside."

"Yeah, it's like basting." Chimney voices. "We also hit it hard from the inside—only way that works, though—if you have deep pocket access. Which we do, through that garage."

Tom frowns and raises his brows. "That actually makes sense."

"If we go through the garage, the fire will be out in half the time." Emerson looks at her watch. She starts to walk towards the garage and her team begins to follow.

"Is it weird that I'm not hungry?" Chimney voices.

Emery looks over at Chimney and pulls her brows together. Chimney then moves his hands around. "Get it? Because turkey? Hungry?"

Normally, Emery loved the jokes Chimney made. But she didn't even crack a smile when he came up with that one.

Emery slightly opens her mouth and nods. "Right, good one, Chim." She looks back at the garage and Chimney frowns. "All right, time to stuff the turkey, guys! That means everybody's splitting up. Keep your radios on 3. I want to hear every step. Let's move."

Emery turns to the garage and stops when she sees Athena and Wren already in there. Shit. The curly-haired girl inhales a deep breath and holds it. Just pretend like she's not there. She's not there. She is not there.

Emery exhales a soft breath and continues walking into the garage. Bobby, Buck, and Tom follow.

"There. See? I didn't steal any of his precious keepsakes—which, by the way, were our precious keepsakes. Until three days ago."

"Ma'am?" Emery speaks, entering the garage. "We need you to open this door. So, we can get access to this part of your house. Is it locked?"

"Oh, yes, but I have the key." The woman holds her hand up. "It's a biometric lock that unlocks with my thumbprint."

She presses her thumb against the pad, but it blinks red and buzzes. "Huh. That's weird." The woman turns to the firefighters and police. "That never happens—"

"Here." Wren walks toward the woman and points at her hand. "Looks like you've blistered your fingers. They're not too bad, but the sounds coming off—I doubt it can read her prints." She looks at Emery. "Uh, ma'am."

Emery ignores the brunette and looks back at the wife. "Do you have an override code?"

"Uh, yes. The panel's in the foyer—0302."

"The month and year of our wedding."

Emery nods her head, "Probie." She looks at Tom. "Get that door open."

"0302. On it." Tom nods and jogs out of the garage. Tom enters the foyer of the house and makes it to the keypad. He stands in front of the keypad and freezes. His mind went blank. "Crap." Tom grabs his walkie and speaks into it.

"Sharpe, can you repeat the passcode?"

Silence.

From the garage, the soon to be wife speaks. "He should be at the panel by now. The light should be turning green."

Emery speaks into her walkie. "Probie, what's the hold up?"

Silence.

"Fletcher, do you copy?"

The woman speaks, "Okay, make sure he puts the code in right because if he enters it incorrectly more than once, the system goes on lockdown."

After Emery had been speaking into the walkie for the past two minutes, her worry began to rise. She shifts her eyes over to Bobby and he was already looking at her. Emery feels her chest tightens and she knew that all eyes were on her. This was her call.

"Okay..." Emery inhales a breath. "Something's wrong. Buck, go in there and check it out."

Buck makes his way towards the exit of the garage. Then, not even a few minutes later, the garage door begins to shut.

"No, no, no, no!" Buck runs toward it, but it slams shut.

Emery's eyes widen, "He typed the code in wrong?" she wipes her mouth. "It hasn't even been five minutes! How could he—"

"Emerson."

The girl turns to Bobby. He was waiting for her to make a decision, they all were. Emery inhales a deep breath. "Okay, okay..." she grabs her axe. "Let's see if we can cut into this. Hopefully, we're able to make at least a dent and make our way out of here."

All the firefighters grabs their axes. They slam their axes against the garage door. After a few minutes, Emery lets out a frustrated breath. "Nothing."

"That's not surprising." The soon to be wife speaks. "I built this place to be a fortress."

"The doors and walls are all actually reinforced steel."

Everyone looks at the woman. She shrugs her shoulders, "I work in cybersecurities, and I've got a lot of personal intel stored in there."

"Emery, what's going on in there?" Hen speaks through the walkie. "Why'd you close the door?"

"I didn't." Emery replies. She grabs the halligan and presses it between the crevices of the garage door. Buck makes his way over to Emery and hits the butt of the halligan with the flat of his axe, hoping to force it between the door.

"Is there some sort of override for the system?" Wren asks.

"Not after it goes into lockdown." The woman states. "It's like your cellphone when you mess up the password a few times—it won't work again for a few hours."

"The alarm will alert the security company to unlock the doors, right?" Bobby asks.

"Actually, no."

"Of course not." Emery forces out a chuckle of disbelief.

"I designed an independent system."

Emery's right eye twitches.

"You'd be surprised how untrustworthy those home ae security companies are." The woman says.

Wren opens and closes her mouth. "Okay, okay—great. So, correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems like we are stuck in an impenetrable box with fire spreading toward it right now—"

"We all understand the danger we're in, Wren!"

Everyone looks at Emery. The curly-haired girl closes her eyes and drops the halligan. "Emery, this is her first day." Athena says.

Emery keeps her eyes on Wren and the brunette begins to feel uncomfortable by the gaze. And everyone else was starting to become uncomfortable as well. Emery scoffs and grabs her walkie. "Eddie, what's the status on the fire inside?"

"Don't worry. We got you covered."

Outside of the garage, Tom was walking back towards the rig; still trying to contact Emery.

"Hey. Hey!" Hen walks over to Tom. He snaps his eyes over to the woman. "What happened? Why haven't you been answering your radio?"

"What are you talking about? I've been trying to get Emery this whole time." Tom states. "Nobody's answering me."

"You set your comms to channel 3, like Sharpe said, right?" Hen asks. Tom looks at his radio and his heart drops into his stomach, seeing his radio set to channel 5. He looks at Hen and she sighs softly.

"Tom..."

"I-I'm sorry, Miss Wilson. I must've heard wrong." Tom feels like he's out of breath. "I'll fix this, it's fine—"

"No, no, it's not fine, Tom." Hen quickly speaks. Tom looks back at Hen, noticing her panic. "You punched the wrong code into the security system and it automatically shut all the doors."

"C-can't we just override the system?" Tom asks, sweat forming across his brow.

"No." Hen answers. "Everybody in there is trapped."

Tom's shoulder sag and he exhales a breath. How could he mess up this bad? This was Emery's first call she was in charge of and he screwed it up. All because his nerves got the best of him.

Eddie speaks into his walkie, "Don't worry—we've got a team on the fire inside and we're trying to cut through these doors. But this could take a while."

"You guys better get comfortable."

Emery's eyes shift to Wren and the brunette averts eye contact. The curly-haired girl begins to feel overwhelmed. Her head feels like static tv is playing every second.

So much for not thinking about the past...

━━━━━━━━━━

author's note.

Emerson's stress 📈

Wren has been introduced 🤭

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