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ice-cap-k · 1 year ago

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Pan-Pan

I, uh, really got carried away on this one...

Cross-posted on AO3 here: Pan-Pan

_______________________________________

“Pan-pan, pan-pan, pan-pan.”

No answer. Tango twisted the dial on the CB radio.

“Pan-pan, pan-pan, pan-pan. Is anyone out there? This is an urgent distress call from Engineer and Supplementary Technician Tango Tek, calling from the underground testing Bunker 2. Two days ago, warnings went out for a total reactor collapse at Bunker 3. The event led me to the decision to cut power to Bunker 2. Presumably, all other facilities are down. Our major operating systems are barely running and the event inflicted severe damage to many minor systems. Emergency operating systems have kicked in, including the safety back-ups put in place to lock down the compound in case of a leak. Unlocking mechanisms are unresponsive when a manual override is attempted. Total damage assessment is impossible…”

Tango trailed off.

He should throw decorum to the wind. He was getting sick of this. Two days alone trapped in the basement of a bunker would do that to a man. Two days of sending distress call after distress call over the radio, never to get a response back. Two days of flipping back and forth over forty channels, waiting for a response that never came. Two days of not knowing what had happened out there.

An entire reactor had supposedly gone down. The fallout had to have been immense above ground. He should consider himself lucky, but he didn’t feel very lucky. The reinforced concrete walls that encased Bunker 2 were just as capable of keeping unwanted radiation out as it was of keeping radiation contained. But that also meant he was trapped down here alone with an inactive reactor.

It had been days. There may not be anyone left to care about proper call signs.

“Well, I’m requesting an immediate response. Bunker 3 operational status compromised. Bunker 2 operational status is critical. Please respond. Please…” There was no answer. Just the muted buzz of radio static in his ears. “Pan-pan, pan-pan- oh just forget it.” In a flare of anger, Tango grabbed the microphone hanging off the headset and ripped the whole thing off. The padding on the speaker pulled painfully at his ears as they came off at an awkward angle. “I’m still doomed,” he huffed, dropping his head onto the desk. His forehead thumped against a keyboard, rendered useless without power to run the computer it was attached to. “Doomed with a capital D and extra death sauce.”

The radio only hissed unhelpfully in reply. Tango bumped his head against the desk a second time for good measure. The wood surface didn’t feel fantastic, but he let his head rest there for a while, not quite focusing on the curve of the grain.

Get a grip, Tango. You’re not dead yet. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Focus on what you can hear. The static of the radio. He should probably turn that off to conserve battery, but he can’t be bothered to reach out and flip the switch just yet. Behind that is the hum of massive amounts of water being piped into the coolant systems. The steady drip drip drip of water droplets falling somewhere in the background. He let out another deep breath.

The situation could be a whole lot better right now. There was no getting past the door and getting out of here. Not unless he had a way of getting through the steel plating on the walls or clearing out the hallway leading to the maintenance hatch. The one that had collapsed when the building started shaking. He wanted the number of the fool who did the math on that side of the structure’s factor of safety. Austenitic stainless steel was supposed to be able to withstand entire explosions. Clearly, their stress calculations were off for something that was supposed to be designed for seismic activity. That, or someone had cut corners during construction.

He had been working on the hallway when he could. It was a mess of concrete and twisted metal. Clearing it out on his own would take a stupid amount of time, but if he could just see what had gone wrong then he might be able to repair it.

Still… He could hold out down here until then. Nobody knew how this place ran better than him. He had managed to switch off his bunker’s reactor on his own and didn’t come across any issues. You know, besides the obvious ones.

The remaining dregs of power in the bunker could be diverted to dropping the control rods, effectively cutting off the power output. He still had the generator too. Most of its power output was reserved for the radiation detectors, water-level monitors, and pumps. A very small amount of power went to the red emergency lighting, but even that had to be carefully monitored. Even a downed reactor took a lot of power.

Especially when it came to keeping the fuel rods cooled. That’s the thing about radioactive substances. They’re always emitting neutrons. And sure, you can catch those neutrons with control rods before they blast other particles to bits, but you’re not going to catch all the heat that comes with ‘em. You use water for that instead.

Water was his most precious resource down here. Yeah, it’s great for drinking and as long as the faucet ran he had plenty of that. But running water also works great for catching excess heat. And that water had to keep moving in order to do that. That’s why reactors had entire networks of pipelines and water pumps in place, shunting massive amounts of the stuff to be superheated and then brought back to the cooling tower.

Keeping up with the pipe maintenance for this place was taking most of his time. It was probably the only thing keeping him from dying a very horrible death.

All of this just to justify that he had barely started clearing the way to the maintenance hatch and instead chose to prioritize calling for help. Both of which were starting to feel like fruitless endeavors.

It was all fine and dandy for now until he ran out of food, the generator gave out, or the water shut off.

Wait a minute. Tango blinked, pulling himself from his thoughts, only just now noticing the large knot in the oak wood beneath his face. Hadn’t he heard…

Drip.

Drop.

Drip.

Oh no! Something was dripping!!!!

Tango flung himself back out of his seat so quickly, that the chair went clattering to the floor. In an instant, he had snatched his toolbox off the floor and a mask off the hook on the wall. He threw open one door and barreled through another, desperately looking for the noise coming through the cracked open windows. Then he took the perforated stairs two at a time. They groaned in protest with every step of his steel-toes.

Panicked thoughts raced through his head. If one of the Inconel pipes were leaking, there wouldn’t be much he could do. He could weld- scratch that. No, he couldn’t. There wasn’t enough power to run welding equipment down here. Switch off the valve, maybe? Depending on the location there might not be a valve he could shut to keep water out. Not if it was in an important location. He could always seal off the room and hope for the best.

Drip.

Drop.

The spent fuel pools lit the room with their own greenish-blue light at the bottom of the steps. The dripping was a little louder here, though, which made Tango’s already racing heart tighten anxiously. The fuel rods at the bottom of the pool cast a ghostly underglow on the piping running across the ceiling. There was no telltale glimmer of radioactive droplets falling from above. Nor were there growing wet spots on the floor. The surface of the pool was as clear and flat as a sheet of glass. All was still and empty and cold.

Where could the sound be coming from?

He followed the noise through a pair of double doors he had left propped open. They lead out of the pool room to a prep locker room and emergency wash station.

The place was empty, save for a few protective suits left lying on a nearby bench. The angry red glow of the emergency lights made the spare sets of gloves and boots stick out like shining red beacons in a sea of matte paint and cement flooring.

He caught a dark spot on the floor in the corner of his eye. When he whirled around, he saw a slow red trickle coming from the base of the chemical shower, drip-dropping into a gradually growing puddle beneath it. His own eyes stared back at him from its surface, glowing crimson in the emergency lights.

Oh. False alarm. It was just a little tap water.

The wave of relief that washed over him at the sight was immediate and immense. It made his knees shake. He couldn’t help but laugh at his own panic. “HahaHA! I’m so dumb! Hehe.”

Sound sure could travel in this place. Best he gets this fixed up before he could forget about it. With a thud, he dropped his toolbox onto the floor. The Teflon tape had worked its way to the bottom, but the wrench he needed was near the top. He fished them both out and went to work sealing up the leaky threading on the pipe.

Despite the easy work, he couldn’t seem to calm down. He’s wound so tight, it felt like he might come unraveled. The flickering red lights weren’t helping either. Here he was, terrified by a few water droplets, struggling to fix a pipe he could barely see.

Somewhere deeper in the plant, there’s a loud thunk as one of the pumps switched off and another one whirred to life to pick up the slack, and he nearly dropped his wrench at the sound.

“There. All fixed.” The pipe was no longer leaking. He didn’t bother to clean up the puddle beneath it. Doesn't dare make eye contact with his reflection again. Instead, he tossed the Teflon and the wrench back into his toolbox and brushed his hands against the legs of his pants.

"I should go for a walk. Do something else to take my mind off things. Get back to work in that hallway or something…" With a sigh, Tango picked back up his toolbox and went back up to the office.

The radio is still where he left it on the desk. The headphones are still hissing away dutifully, waiting for someone to send something worth hearing over the airwaves. He must have forgotten to shut it off before he ran out. "Any luck," he asks, not even bothering with the receiver. "Anyone out there?" A response would have been nice, but he doesn’t expect one. There's no one to respond. Just white noise. Too tired and anxious to be angry about it anymore, he grabbed the CB radio and tucked it under his arm so he could carry it with him to the ruined hallway.

Who knows. Maybe someone will start calling while he's working?

____________

Four days down here and Tango has barely made a dent in the hallway’s wreckage. There’s a few places he can stand on the cracked tile now, though. A few piles of dirt and chunks of concrete had been moved deeper into the bunker where they wouldn't be in the way to make that happen.

At least he’s managed to devote more time each day to clearing out as much of the mess as possible. Huh. Wait… Was it actually day? There was no way to keep track of time right now. The clocks didn’t work down here anymore. For all he knew, he might be sleeping during the day and working by night now. Not that it really mattered.

He had settled further into a rhythm that he had started on day two. When he was too tired to keep his eyes open any longer, he passed out in the chair he had hauled up from one of the break rooms. It was small enough to fit in the space he cleared, but not cramped enough that he woke up feeling worse than you would expect from a long day. Then he would send out a distress call over each channel on the radio. Usually, he would move some of the smaller bits of plaster and wires as he called. Then he would run his daily check on the pumps and essential pipelines. Something that had gotten surprisingly easier over time. Not easy, per se, but the pipelines needed less babysitting now that the reactor has been stable and inactive for a while. That and Tango was now used to attending to the areas that regularly needed overseeing by what normally would take a team of people. Sometimes there were pressing issues that required rerouting water lines. Once he was certain there were no more major issues for the day, he would tap into what was left of the food supply in the break room, have lunch, and then haul up enough packaged foodstuffs to get him through dinner after a couple of hours of hauling building bits.

Right now, he was ignoring the rumbling in his stomach as he reached into the wreckage and pulled out something that appeared to be on the lighter side. His hands came in contact with something smooth and elastic. With a yank, he pulled free stretches of hosing and brass fittings. Redstone wires were knotted at one end where they had been soldered to a loose sensor.

“Aww. That’s such a waste.” He felt like a little piece of himself was dying on the inside. He recognized the scraps of the pneumatic hook-up for a vault door he designed. Most likely meant for a high-clearance lab or pressurized combustion chamber. Considering how high he was above most of the steam generators, he would put money on the former over the latter. It would have been built into the wall before the collapse, which meant the pistons and doors would be buried somewhere beneath everything as well. Now it was all useless.

Careful not to let the corrosive redstone drip from their rubber casings, he untangled the rest of the pneumatic tubing from a bent aluminum frame and tossed it into the mess of scrap that would have to be hauled away later.

It always made him feel bad to see good circuitry go to waste. Electronics didn’t often behave as predicted. There were always opportunities for unforeseen events. Sometimes it took a bit of trial and error to get right, which took time, thought, and plenty of resources. He had put a lot of time into that design to make sure it would hold up in extreme scenarios. Made sure that the steel would give out before the pressurized air in the compressors would leak. Done extra research to find materials that would be both nuclear and redstone grade….

His stomach growled again.

Yeah, he couldn’t keep working like this on an empty stomach. Not now that he was thinking about wasted redstone. So he crawled out from the edge of the wreckage and brushed some of the grease off his hands onto the hem of his shirt. By the time he made it to the little pile of junk food he had stolen from a broken vending machine, he was sure the rumbling in his stomach could be heard from the very bottom of the bunker.

He sat down in the little chair he considered his bed and ripped into a granola bar. He had just sunk his teeth into his first bite when a soft TINK made him flinch.

It was the sound of one of the emergency lights burning out. He knew it pretty well after a few previous scares. The red lights weren’t made to burn consistently for such a long time, and who knew how old they were before the bunker was sealed? He could count on both hands the number of lights that had already burnt out. It was hard not to let the sudden noise take him by surprise, though.

It was quiet down here. Not the kind of quiet you feel under a blanket when the fabric eats up the sound. The hollow kind where you can hear a leaky pipe from the floor above, or the steady hum of the generator several floors below. The noisy kind of quiet where you can hear every little thing as if it were right next to you, echoing through empty walls like the ghosts of something that refused to go forgotten.

Still chewing, Tango reached for the CB radio next to his chair. He hung the headphones around his neck and flipped the power switch. The familiar hiss of static flared to life in his ears. It was surprisingly soothing just to have that little bit of background noise. The food went down much easier now that he had it.

Since he was already on the radio, he might as well use it. The needle turned in between bites, switching between channels. “Pan-pan, pan-pan, pan-pan. Anyone out there? This is Tango of the Tech variety-” he stopped just long enough to break into a candy bar. He was well past caring about protocol by now. “Used to be an engineer here in good ol’ Bunker 2. If anyone’s out there, I’m still here. Still trapped.”

He let himself chew into the sugary sweetness of the candy bar. Nothing like a bunch of junk food to make you wish desperately for a nice, warm, homemade meal.

“You know, it’s kinda silly that they make us say these lengthy distress calls. The pan-pan call sign is meant for international transport vehicles. Not testing facilities that fall outside of single government-regulated territories. Besides, it’s not like I’m skadoodling anywhere anytime soon...” He breaks into a heavy sigh. Maybe if they had completed the testing phase he would have been shipped out with the equipment, but there was no way that was going to happen now. “Anyway, if you can hear this, I could really use some help. Tango out.” He knew better than to hold his breath and hope, but he allowed himself a brief pause to listen for something. Anything.

Nothing. Just static.

One more bite and his candy bar was gone. His stomach didn’t feel like it was going on strike anymore, so that was his cue to get back to work. He reached down to flip the switch on the radio.

“T…go…”

His finger froze over the power switch. Had he imagined that? One hand still hovering over the button on the radio, he reached up with the other hand to lift one of the headphones off his ear. The rush of white noise lessened to be replaced with the echoing hum of pumps, water moving through pipes, and not much else.

“..... you st… …ere Tan….”

It was a voice! Tango dropped the side of his headphone as the words filtered through. It snapped back against his head painfully. “Ow! YES! Yes, I’m here, can you hear me?!” he practically shouted into the receiver. The other hand felt along the face of the radio for the nob and twisted it back and forth ever so slightly, hoping to get a clearer signal.

He could have wept tears of joy as the voice replied with crystalline clarity. “Tango! It is you! I can’t believe it. We can hear you loud and clear. I’m so glad you’re still alive, buddy!!”

Wait a minute. He knew that voice! “Zedaph!??”

“The one and only!”

“Oh my gosh!” Tango gripped at the wire of the receiver like the lifeline it had become. He didn’t even notice that his fingernails were digging into his palm. “Oh my gosh, you have no clue how happy I am to hear your voice, Zed. HaHA! Where are you? Is everything ok? What’s going on up there? ”

“Whoah, slow down there for a second,” another voice cut in. “I can’t keep up with all that.”

“IMPULSE!?” The receiver probably couldn’t pick up his voice as his pitch and volume skyrocketed in equal proportion to the rush of relief and excitement that came with hearing another achingly familiar voice. At least he had enough sense to move the receiver back away from his face.

Of all the people it could have been, he was glad their voices were the first signs of the outside world he could hear. They were some of his closest friends, his coworkers, and people who knew this plant as well as he did. Maybe even better. It may have been presumptuous, but he could already picture the three of them going back home together to their families. Of playing video games, of him dragging them along to watch his favorite hockey team, and of chatting for hours about anything other than work like they had already done countless times before.

It was really them!

Zed was the one to answer. “Didn’t catch that, Tango. You’re voice cut out. What did you say?”

“Nothing important. I just… Impulse, you’re there too?”

“There he is again. Yeah! I’m here too. Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m stuck down in Bunker 2! Where are you guys?”

The line crackled for a moment. He could hear Zedaph and Impulse’s voice fade slightly as they began to talk to each other. It was a little harder to make out, but their words still came through on his end.

“2!? I thought 2 went down when 3 collapsed?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t stop to make sure before I slammed the door shut.”

“That’s a good sign then. It means it was only 3 that we had to worry about. Thank the heavens he’s still alive.”

“Yeah, but that also means he didn’t get out-.”

‘Uh,” Tango cut in. He could hear the sharp intake of breath from both of them as they realized he was still on the line. “You know I can still hear you, right?”

“...either. Right…” Zedaph finished. He sounded a little guilty, even through the distortion over the airwaves. “Sorry. We’re in Bunker 1. I’m going to be honest, when we heard you over the radio we thought you might be the rescue crew coming back for us.”

“Oh.” Tango’s heart skipped a beat. His stomach dropped so deep it felt like it was gone completely, leaving him a hollow shell. If the receiver wasn’t already attached to the headset, he would have dropped it. He let out an empty laugh, more for the sake of filling space as his brain came to terms with what that meant. “You guys are trapped too.” It wasn’t meant as a question. It was a statement because he knew it was true. Still, Zedaph answered honestly.

“Yeah…”

_______________

Tango was, admittedly, just as disappointed they weren’t part of some rescue party coming back for him as they were when they realized the same about him. Once the initial disappointment gave way, though, he was honestly really happy just to hear from them. If they were all stuck, then at least now they were stuck together. He wasn’t alone anymore. There were other voices alongside his echoing through these empty rooms.

They talked for what must have been hours sharing information about their situation. There was a lot to go over between the two different bunkers and the matter of their circumstances.

Zedaph and Impulse told him that they had locked themselves in Bunker 1. Impulse had been planning on going inside to check on a few parts that were scheduled for pre-emptive maintenance and replacement. Zed had only tagged along to keep him company and tell the other man about his latest plan for game night. The two of them had been taking a casual stroll across the grounds when the reactor in Bunker 3 blew. They were looking in the other direction when the portion of the building above ground started to collapse, but there was no missing the way the ground heaved beneath them. And when they looked up it was impossible to miss the massive cloud rising in the not-so-far distance.

The door to Bunker 1 was unlocked. It was nearby and built to block radiation. Zedaph was the first to realize what they were witnessing. He put two and two together first and realized it equaled, ‘We need to get to safety.’ So he dragged Impulse into the closest concrete building and locked the door behind him. The two of them weren’t sure what had happened above ground after that.

Both of them had been down there ever since. Impulse had been juggling the mechanical systems pretty well, and Zed was charged with keeping an eye on the reactor. Between the two of them, they’ve had a pretty good handle on the situation. As good as two people can manage on their own, at least.

Zed in particular explained that they were hoping to wait for a rescue team to come in. According to him, a nuclear fallout is most dangerous for 48 hours after a blast, but there’s still some risk of radiation and other unforeseen hazards. Technically, they weren’t actually trapped. Not in the sense that Tango was trapped. They were playing it safe by sheltering in place.

In return, Tango told them everything that he could about what had happened at Bunker 2 since the incident.

He told them about how he had been checking in on the new control unit he had designed for the spent fuel pool, killing some time until the rest of the crew showed up. At some point everything had started shaking. The alarms went off and he saw the warnings flash across the announcement screens mounted in the hallways. He told them how he only knew that something had gone wrong at Bunker 3 because of those warnings on the screen. Other than that, he didn’t know what happened.

He told them about how he was trapped underground. That the hallway collapsed and he had been trying to clear a path. That he hadn’t even gotten halfway to the maintenance hatch. He wasn’t sure how long it would take him to make it through all the mess, let alone fix whatever damage had been done that was keeping the way out so tightly sealed.

He told them about how he had deactivated the reactor to reduce the risk of another incident. How he had been trying to take care of the coolant systems on his own.

“That’s crazy. You’re crazy. I’m friends with a crazy person.” A small smile spread across Tango’s lips. His chest swelled with pride at the awe in Impulse’s voice. “You’re telling me you managed all that on your own? Even lowering the control rods? I let Zedaph take care of that over here. I never would have risked it on my own. I don’t think I would have risked it even if I wasn’t on my own and it had been anyone other than Zed.”

“Aw, Impulse, how sweet of you. Good to see you think so highly of me.”

“It’s not like I wanted to,” Tango said. He shrugged as well, but they couldn’t see that. “It’s not like I could just leave it running and risk explodificating my face off. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a Zedaph on hand.”

“You too, Tango!? Oh my gosh, you guys are so sweet. I think I might cry.”

“Besides. I’ve got the gist of a little of everything down here. Just because I’d never done it on my own before doesn’t mean I have no clue how it’s supposed to work.”

“Still, I’d consider you pretty darn lucky so far. I know you’re not very familiar with the heat transfer system.”

“I'd say I’m getting pretty darn familiar now,” he shot back with a chuckle.

“Fair enough.”

Something new crackled through the headset of the radio. It took Tango a second to realize the sound was Zedaph yawning in the background. His own exhaustion came crashing down on him all at once. He had been so caught up in talking that he hadn’t even realized that he was tired until now. They had been at it for a while after all. Who knew how many hours he had let pass, neglecting the debris in the hallway to chatter with his friends like it was another night in the group chat. He couldn’t help letting out a little yawn of his own.

“You too, eh Tango,” Zed mumbled, sounding every bit as tired as Tango felt.

“Sorry guys. I must be getting tired. It’s hard to keep track of time down here.”

“Same,” Zed mumbled around another yawn. “I don’t think we’ve got a single clock working down here.”

Tango was about to say something about not having any clocks in his bunker either but decided against it when he heard Impulse break into a yawn as well. “Hmph. Impulse here looks like he’s half asleep already.”

“I’m fiiiine,” Impulse drawled. “I think the time just finally hit me. Give me a second and I’ll get a second wind. I can stay up all night if you want.” The lazy lilt to his voice said otherwise.

“Nah,” Tango says with a chuckle. “I think it might be time to call it a night. I feel like I’m going to pass out too.”

“Go ahead and get some rest. We’ll get a little shut-eye ourselves. Will you still be available on this frequency if we try to get a hold of you tomorrow?”

“You kidding me? You guys are the only thing I’ve heard on this thing. I’m keeping it on this frequency for good as far as I’m concerned. The others might as well be dead to me.”

That got a laugh out of Zed. It almost drowned out a much fainter noise in the background. Something Tango couldn’t place at first. Something rhythmic and slow, like breathing. Like… “Uh… Is that Impulse snoring?”

“Yeah. He’s already out like a light. Lasted all of ten seconds.”

That was shockingly fast.

“Welp! We’ll keep our radio on this frequency as well. I think I’m going to join Impulse off in dreamland. Have a good night, Tango.”

“Night Zed…” The speakers in the headset remained silent when Zedaph didn’t reply. The silence hung for a heartbeat as his friend most likely reached for the switch to shut off the equipment, and then the familiar buzz of empty static filtered through. They were gone.

The sounds of the bunker came rushing back into focus with the silence. The hum of motors the buzz of the emergency lights and the subtle sound of his own breathing making themselves loud and clear.

Tango found himself curling up deeper into his chair. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open. He let the headset rest in his lap, the bulk of the radio left on the floor within arm’s reach. He had a feeling that tonight would be filled with good dreams.

____________________

The next two days were better. A lot better. It was nice to have Zed and Impulse to keep him company. It was a bit cumbersome to haul the old CB radio around the bunker with him when he went on his rounds, but it was worth it to have them one quick call away. He finally had someone he could bounce his thoughts off of. Impulse was always quick with advice when he was worried about the pipes. Zed was even quicker to make him smile with a joke and wash his worries away when he started panicking about all the wrong things. Weird stuff dripping from a pipe? No worries. It’s just condensation, not a leak. Another light went out? Good thing there’s a whole box full of replacements on the second floor. Tango was even able to help them with some things, like overriding the electronic locks on one of the labs.

Then, as if the world was out to spite him, things started spiraling out of his control.

One of the pumps was losing head pressure, and it was causing a slower flow rate.

In other words, the water in the pipeline was slowing down. Slower pipe-flow meant the water flowing through the reactor would be coming out hotter than it should be. If the pump degraded anymore, the water would stop moving and whatever was in the pipe inside of the reactor would keep heating up. It would eventually become so hot it would try to expand and become steam. The pressure inside the pipe would be immense, and the pipe would probably burst. Tango really didn’t want that to happen.

The thing is, though, Tango wasn’t sure how to fix that. He knew the basics of how to work a pump, but that was about it. He was an engineer first and a technician second. He never had to know the workarounds for keeping a pump running while also improving head pressure that really had no apparent reason to be dropping. If he could reduce the sheer amount of pipe length the water had to go through, that could help. If he could introduce a new pump into the system, that could help. But he didn’t have spare piping or a replacement pump that could keep up with that sort of power. He couldn’t risk shutting down the water for the time it would take to play around with pipe lengths. None of those were possible options right now. He wished someone had left a manual lying around, although it probably wouldn’t be much help.

He thought it might be possible that air was getting into the system. He risked shutting down the pump for less than a minute to check the inlet, but didn’t see any leaks. If air was getting in, there had to be a leak somewhere.

He really hoped that wasn’t the case. He could even partially convince himself that wasn’t the case since he had been monitoring the pipelines so closely. Still, he couldn’t account for leaks occurring in the underground pipes.

So he explained his predicament to Zedaph and Impulse. Mostly to Impulse, since he was the one with more experience on the matter.

“You didn’t happen to add any piping to the system,” Zed asked half teasingly.

“No,” Tango snapped, entirely serious. “I’m not about to go making things worse. I haven’t even tried rerouting the water flow. That will just make the path it travels longer too.”

“How’d the motor look,” Impulse asked over a snickering Zed. “Any signs of it burning out?”

“The motor was fine too, as far as I can tell. There was a weird clanking noise earlier that I couldn’t pinpoint, but that stopped a while ago.”

“Oooh, I bet you the impeller broke.” Tango could practically hear his friend nodding to himself. “One of the fins probably broke off and is floating around in the system.”

Zed snorted on the other side of the line. “That’s a thing that can happen?!?”

“Sure. All parts are made to break eventually. You’re just supposed to replace it before it reaches the end of its cycle life. Sometimes a part has an internal defect that speeds up that process.”

“What am I supposed to do about that then?” Tango asked.

“That depends. Do you have an extra impeller lying around?”

Tango thought back to every storage room he had gone through during his rounds. He had gone through plenty of supply closets while he was stuck down there, looking for spare parts and tools. He would have noticed if there had been a loose impeller just lying around. “No. I mean, I don’t think so. I haven’t seen one down here.”

“What about another pump?”

That was something he had seen. There had been a small pump hanging out of a box. “Yeah actually. A small one. Like, really small. Will that work as a replacement? I thought smaller ones didn’t have as much oomph?”

“Normally they don’t, but if we can hook that one up in succession with the other it can give things a boost.”

“That’s a thing?!?”

“Will the two of you stop that?” Impulse snorted. “Yes, it’s a thing. It will help with the head pressure, and keep the water flowing.”

“That’s all I need.”

“Good. Now go grab that pump. I’ll walk you through the installation.”

“Thanks, buddy. You’re a lifesaver!”

Before he could grab the CB radio and rush off to the nearest supply closet, though, Zed spoke up. “Hey, uh, I don’t mean to be that guy that questions everything…”

“But…?”

“But what about the broken impeller?”

Tango froze. “What about it?”

“Well, it’s still broken. Aren’t there still the broken bits floating around somewhere? I might be wrong, but wouldn’t that cause issues at some point?”

“Well…”

Tango’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t like the sound of that ‘well.’”

“Ok, yes that is true. If the impeller really did give out, then yeah. There are pieces of it floating around in the pipes. Best case scenario, the water is moving slow enough that it doesn’t carry them very far and they settle at the bottom of some pipe.”

“And worst case scenario…” Tango asks tentatively.

“That’s a bit harder to say, but it is possible it keeps floating around and gets caught in something important. Like the pumps. There’s a non-zero chance it might end up back in there and bust it up even more.”

“Okay…” Tango’s brain started racing. He was already kicking back into ‘problem-solving’ mode. More damage to the pump would mean a bigger drop in pressure. It might even take the pump out of commission completely. “That would be all sorts of bad with extra bad sauce. Is there a filter or something where they might get caught?”

For a moment, Impulse doesn’t answer. Tango assumed the other man is simply taking his time to answer. Likely trying to run through the map of the coolant system in his head. Then Zedaph spoke up. “Use your words Impulse,” Zed says after a pause. “He can’t see you shaking your head.”

“Sorry. I forgot for a second there. I don’t think so. I know they wouldn’t have used a sediment trap, but I’m not sure if they would have added a strainer anywhere.”

Tango could work with that. “Then I’ll look for one. I only have one extra pump. I can’t let one of the ones keeping the water scooting go caput on me. You can describe what it’s supposed to look like and I can check for it after we finish with the other pipe.”

At least there was still a chance that he wouldn’t have to worry about the impeller causing more problems. He was already on the move. The CB radio was tucked uncomfortably under one arm as he walked. He would have to grab his toolbox from the office after the pump, but there was no way he was going to be able to carry everything down at once. He would have to make a few trips, leaving either the radio or the pump downstairs when he went to get his tools.

“And I take it that if there isn’t one, Tango’s still running the risk of more damage,” Zed asked.

“More or less.”

“I see. In that case, I’m going to go crunch some numbers.” A high-pitched squeak like a chair scraping across tile filtered through the radio. The noise was so awful Tango had to shift the ear pads of the headset to hang around his neck.

“Zed, where are you going, man?” Impulse’s surprised shout sounded a little less clear now that the speakers weren’t pressed to Tango’s ears.

Tango silently wished for the umpteenth time that he could see them instead of just hearing them. “What’s happening,” he asked. “Don’t leave me in the dark guessing.”

“I don’t know. He just ran out.”

“Should you go check on him?”

“I… You know what? Nah. He’ll be fine for now. Let’s get you squared away first and then I’ll check in on him after.”

Impulse was probably right. All three of them had a tendency to get lost in their own thoughts and sucked into personal projects. Something they said had given Zed an idea, and he was probably off to go puzzle over it until he could come to his own answers. Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

“If you say so. I’m already at the supply closet anyway. Let’s figure this out.”

________________

“Ok Tango, remember when I said you were crazy? I take it back,” Impulse said. Even over the radio, Tango could hear the sheer disbelief in his friend’s voice. “You’re not that crazy after all. Clearly Zed has you beat.”

“Excuse me, I take offense to that.”

“No Zed,” Tango chimed in. “He’s right. That sounds like a surefire way to get killed. Or lost. Or any number of terrible, horrible things.”

“But not from radiation poisoning!”

“It still sounds dumb.”

“Thank you for agreeing with me on this, Tango.” Impulse sounded really tired. It made Tango wonder how long they were discussing this before calling him.

“But Tango needs help and he’s going to need it soon. I heard about your little ‘I spy’ trip through the bunker. You never found a filter, did you.”

Tango flinched. “No…”

“Nor does he have another pump in case anything else goes wrong. And, might I add that Tango can’t leave whenever he wants like we can. But if we just go and get help-”

“You’re talking about trekking through a nuclear detonation site!”

“It’s been days,” Zedaph insisted a little more firmly. “A week, even. By now the bulk of the nuclear fallout will have passed. The smaller airborne particles will have settled, the radionuclides will have mostly decayed away, and the leftover radiation levels will be fairly low. We shouldn’t go, you know, ingesting anything while we’re out there. Just in case. But I can jimmy together some sealed suits if it makes you feel better. We can pack some food and bottle some water to find help without too much worry.”

“I don’t think we should be jumping to such risky conclusions, Zed. Even without the radiation risks, what about if one of us gets hurt? We’re miles from civilization.”

“If you’re that worried about it, you don’t have to come along, Impulse. It’s alright if you want to stay here. I can just go on my own-”

“Nuh-uh. No way. Don’t even bother finishing that sentence. That’s even worse. Of course, you’re not going alone out there.”

“Good! Then it’s decided. The two of us are going to go find help.”

Impulse made a strangled noise. Tango could just imagine the myriad of emotions flashing across his face. They couldn’t be much different from the clashing emotions he was experiencing.

Personally, he doesn’t like this idea one bit. If they went in search of help, that meant traveling through a stretch of land that could technically be considered survivable but was still recovering from massive nuclear destruction. Who knew how the surrounding area had been affected? And Zed was suggesting they do it for the sake of helping Tango. Tango, who couldn’t go after them. Tango, who would be helpless and unable to do anything if something went wrong. Tango, who would absolutely blame himself for anything bad that might happen, and was already in the process of feeling extremely guilty for making them think they needed to take this risk for him.

If they did this, he would be on his own again. Left alone to live on a prayer.

“You don’t have to do that.” Tango’s voice is shaking. He hopes the static of the radio helps to cover that up on their end. “The pressure is stable for now. I’ve been holding down the fort for this long. I can hold out a bit longer while I clear this hall.”

“It’s not like we can stick around here forever anyway. They’re not coming back for us. ”

Tango can hear Impulse’s breath hitch. He had to suppress a shudder of his own at Zedaph’s bluntness. It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind that they had been left for dead. He had just about resigned himself to the fact before he first heard Zed’s voice through the radio speakers. But it was a thought he had pushed to the back of his mind when he found out his friends were there as well.

“I’m sorry…” Zed’s voice startled Tango out of his own thoughts. His friend sounded sad. Almost remorseful. It made him wonder if it was because of whatever reaction Impulse might have had. “But it’s been too long. The largest risk occurs during the first 48 hours. If they didn’t come looking for survivors after that, then it must be because they assumed there were none left to save. And if they HAD come looking, then they missed us. It’s not like any of us were supposed to be in these bunkers at the time anyway. We were all here early.”

Impulse sighed on the other end of the line. “I guess you do have a point.”

“You’re not actually considering this, Impulse,” Tango asked nervously. He could feel his chest tighten at the thought of them going up there, leaving him behind in his dark hole while they ran into… he didn’t even know what. Danger. Definitely some sort of danger.

“Oh, to be clear, I still think this is a bad idea. But…” Of course, there was a ‘but.’ Why did there always have to be a ‘but?’ “He’s making some good points. He IS the expert on the subject, and I can’t just let him go alone.”

“But if you guys leave, then I’ll be alone. Again.”

There’s a loaded silence where none of them spoke. They don’t have to. Tango could practically hear the thoughts in their head. He just knows them that well. ‘You’re already alone,’ they’re thinking to themselves. ‘We’re not really there. And we couldn’t get to you if we needed to.’ That was the problem with this entire situation after all.

He tries again. “What if something goes wrong with the pump after you leave? I won’t be able to ask you about it, Impulse.”

“We’re going to bring the radio with us,” Zed assured him quickly. “Sure, we’ll be more focused on finding civilization, but if it’s an emergency we’ll be able to stop and answer the call.”

“I’m starting to think he’s right, Tango. I think we should go. Especially if you end up having more trouble. There’s only so much I can do to help you over the radio. And as much as I hate to think about it, me and Zed are going to have to leave the bunker at some point.”

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get you out of there,” Zed says, and he says it with confidence. Tango gripped at the wire connecting the headset to his radio. There was logic in their words. It was fairly sound logic too, or Impulse wouldn’t have given in so easily. They were good at logic and had already made up their minds. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

_________________

“I suppose there’s no way for me to talk you out of this, huh?”

“You still have a mountain of trash in front of that maintenance hatch?”

Tango lets out a defeated sigh. He’s standing in front of said ‘mountain,’ getting ready to start working at it for the day. He still has a long way to go. But his friends were preparing to leave. They had spent a full day preparing water and packing away whatever food they could scrounge up from a break room. Zed even told Tango about the sealed suits he had put together with duct tape and plastic cover-alls. They were ready.

There wouldn’t be much more for Tango to do other than get back to work once the radio went silent. It would give him something else to focus on, at least. Something other than worrying about their safety. Something other than the fear that they might not come back.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Then you focus on that, buddy,” Impulse soothes. “Try to clear out as much as you can for when we come back. With any luck, we’ll have an army of people with us to help dig you out.”

“Yeah. Sure. Just you wait. By the time you guys come back, I’ll have this whole place spotless,” he tries to joke. They don’t laugh, but he hopes that maybe there’s a growing smile or two that he can’t see.

“Alright Tango,” Zed says. His voice sounds odd and distorted through the respirator mask he is pulling over his face. “As you know, we’re bringing the radio. The main problem is that we’re going to be mobile and the suits will make it hard to hear and respond. Try to only call us if it’s an emergency, ok? If we’re stopped for any reason and can get to the radio, we’ll call you and keep you updated.”

“Is that thing even going to work out there with all the scary radiation rays bouncing around?”

“Oh yeah. An initial blast might mess with radio waves, but we’re long past that. It should work the same up there as it does down here. All set Impulse?”

“Ready!” The other man’s voice also sounds like a muffled mess behind a mask. “I’ve got the radio and the food. You’ve got the water and the first aid kit. That’s everything. Man, I’m nervous. Look at my hands shaking.”

“Just some pre-journey jitters. It will probably get better once we get outside and see what we have to work with. Come help me with the door.”

Tango can hear the loud clunk of the sealing mechanism sliding out of place for their door. “Stay safe out there, alright guys?” His voice cracks a little. “You better check in at least once a day. Promise me.” Both of them answer him instantly.

“Promise.”

“We promise.”

The sound of pneumatic hissing blends a little into the background static of the radio as pistons pull their door open.

“Okay, Tango. This is it. We’re going now. You stay safe down there.”

“Don’t have too much fun without us.”

“Bye.” Tango hates how small his voice sounds. He’s not even sure if they could hear him on the other side, but it’s all he can manage. He’s afraid that, if he tries to say anything else, he’d fall apart into tiny little pieces. Whether they heard him or not, their end of the radio cuts out. The speakers switch back to buzzing with that familiar, empty white noise.

They’re gone. They’ll be okay. They’ll be back. They’ll get him out of here and then they can all go home.

He starts reaching towards one broken half of a door when one of the emergency lights goes out in the hall. It pops with a sudden tink. There are still other lights in the hall, but with one less to brighten the space the shapes in front of him are harsher. Bright red edges and curves are made stark in contrast to hard-lined black shadows. Somewhere from further down in the bunker, he can hear the hum of the pump. The steady drip, drop, drip of water. He didn’t need to run to check for a leak this time, though. He wanted to, but he didn’t. Now he knew from experience that it was coming from water condensing on the cooler end of the bunker wall where the pipe went into the soil outside. Something that Impulse had kindly explained to him. The place wasn’t in any immediate danger of leaking toxic fluids, as Zedaph had made clear. But old superstitions were easy to let creep back in when you could hear everything and there was nothing to be heard.

So Tango put the headset of the radio back on before he dug into the pile. With one hand, he hit the dial to switch frequencies while he pulled away the wreckage with the other.

He had a lot of frequencies to get through before he would end up back on the one his friends would be using. It wouldn’t be too hard to go through all of them and make the most of his time while he waited. And if he could help Zedaph and Impulse in some way, it would be worth it.

“Pan-pan, pan-pan, pan-pan. Is anyone out there? This is an urgent distress call from Tango Tek, calling from the underground testing Bunker 2. I… uh… I know this isn't protocol, but if anyone is out there, then you should know that there are two amazing people out there right now looking for help. They go by Zedaph and Impulse, they just went topside of Bunker 1, and they’re carrying a radio of their own. You should know that they are some of the smartest, bravest people I have ever met and their safety means everything to me. You might not know them, and you probably don’t know me, but if there is any way you can help them, then please, do whatever you can to make sure they make it home.”

#whumptober 2023 #prompt no. 7 #“I paced around for hours on empty I jumped at the slightest of sounds”#Radio Silence #minecraft: hermitcraft #hermitcraft #creative writing #isolation #nuclear disaster #tangotek #impulsesv #zedaph #alternate universe-modern setting #sound science #realistic engineering in fanfiction #CB radio

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secretficblogs · 5 hours ago

Text

"First Date Jitters" Divorced David "Deacon" Kay x School Counselor! Reader

Summary: Your date with Deacon gets derailed but you still find a way to make the most of it.

What to expect: 4K words, Light mention of divorce, Canon warnings (hostage situation, robbery, light mention of gore/guns), drinking, descriptions of being cut, flirting, fluff, comfort

A/N: I blushed so hard when yall asked for a part 2, I didn't really proofread btw

You could feel the seconds ticking away as you sat at your meeting. Why did school counselors need to sit in on district meetings, anyway? You glanced at the clock on the wall, 4:47. Your leg was bouncing underneath the table, a representation of your nervousness. It was your first date in god knows how long. You still needed to run home, change, and meet your date, but you were stuck with what could've been an email. You looked again, 4:48, oh my god.

“Would you be for or against this change, (Y/N)?” Your boss shook you from your thoughts, leaving you to look at the schedule change in front of you.

“I-I think this looks… great. I don’t have any suggestions.” You slide the paper to the center of the table, glancing back up at the clock. 4:52.

“Alright well, if that concludes things… I'll let you guys get going. Thanks for hanging back for a bit.” The staff began to stand and file out of the room. The English teacher, you knew her as Jane pulled you aside.

“So, spill! What are you so keen on leaving for?” She rubbed her hands together, leaving you to roll your eyes.

“I’m going out on a date.” You answered, throwing on your cardigan. Jane danced around you and let her noises of excitement draw attention to the two of you.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed. “I don't even know if it will go anywhere. Just nice to get back out there, I guess.” You rubbed your arm, as you made your way out of the conference room.

“I'm just so happy for you! It's about time. You have the best time tonight, okay? Stay safe, and call me if you need a lifeline!” She shouted your way as you both made your way towards your respective cars. You thanked her before closing your door. You made quick work of the dinner rush and ran up the stairs to your apartment. Quickly locking yourself inside, you immediately started changing into the semi-formal dress you had set out last night. You glanced up at yourself in the mirror, deciding a touch-up would do you good. You grabbed out a darker lipstick, one you wouldn't wear to the school. You looked at your phone, 5:19. You rushed to get your heels on and grab your purse, taking one final look at yourself in the mirror.

“Okay, (Y/N), let's get back in the game.” You ruffled your hair and made your way back down to your car. You peeled out of the parking garage. Your fingers tapped against the steering wheel praying for the light to change. The drive felt longer than it was, and the counselor in you told you to breathe before you left your car.

David sat in his car rubbing his hands on his thighs, nervously. He recognized you in the car that pulled up across the parking lot. He watched you fix your hair in the rearview, and step out of your car to straighten your dress. David’s nerves were calmed once he noticed you were anxious too. He stepped out and made his way to the door, trying to pretend he hadn't noticed.

You walked towards the door and saw him waiting in the lobby. He met you with a smile and you immediately felt your knees weaken. Together you walked up to the host station and told the young girl the name of your reservation. She quickly led the two of you to your table and took your drink order. You both ordered wine and began making small talk about the restaurant you chose.

“So did your interest in international food lead to your love for travel, or was it the other way around?” He asked, watching you take a sip of your drink.

“They are not mutually exclusive. My mom’s a professional chef, so I grew up trying all of her experiments. That's how I ended up in LA. She found better business here than Oregon.” You rambled. You couldn't tell where the feeling came from but you wanted him to know everything about you.

“How old were you when you moved here?” David questioned. He seemed genuinely interested, which you liked.

“I was 12. I wasn't too happy to leave the humidity. It took a while for my asthma to get somewhat used to the lack of moisture.” You folded your hands in your lap, smiling back at him. He nodded and you could see him commit the fact that you have asthma to memory.

“How about you, did you grow up here?” You felt he was at an unfair advantage, knowing so much about you from your office.

“Yeah, born and raised.” He nodded.

“Nice, do you travel much?”

“Not as much now, with the kids, but occasionally I'll find myself in neat places for work.” David felt his heart race a bit at the mention of his kids. He knew the entire reason they met was because of his kids, but he knew many single parents’ kids scare partners off.

That feeling quickly dissolved when he looked up from his glass to see your smile. He went to say something but your waitress came over. You both chuckled, realizing you hadn't looked over the menu much. Fortunately, you were both able to make a quick decision and get your food ordered. Your waitress refilled your glasses and left you to continue talking.

“You said you had a meeting today, right? That go well?” He broke the silence.

“Oh, yeah, it wasn't too bad. I really didn't need to be there. I was just excited to go home and get ready.” You looked away, shy to admit you were looking forward to your date.

“I’m glad. This is all I’ve talked about all day,” You looked up at him, shocked. “My team was so sick of me that they sent me home early.” David chuckled, leaving you to smile dumbfoundedly.

“That makes me feel better, I wondered if you'd get bored tonight…” You sheepishly mutter.

“Why would you think that?” David's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“...Well, I don't have the most interesting life. I mean, you're a SWAT sergeant. I'm sure you get invitations for dates all the time.” You trailed off, taking a sip of your wine to stop your rambling.

“I don't usually entertain that. I don't really enjoy being hit on. Most people just like the uniform anyway.” He tried to make you feel a bit better. “Also, you're insanely cool. I mean your office is decorated with so many interesting things. I gotta know more about that.” He folded his hands on the table.

“Well, ask away.” You grinned feeling warm from his words.

“The paintings on the walls didn't look like prints. Did you paint them?” David questioned. You began to answer, but your waitress brought out your dishes, set them down, and asked if you needed anything. You both ordered another drink and turned back to each other.

“The portraits are mine, but there are a couple of landscape paintings, sculptures, and trinkets that I got from friends and vendors.” You took a bite of your dish after speaking.

“Your paintings are amazing. Did you consider going into art before counseling?”

“No, no. It's always just been something I did on my own time.” You gently shook your head. “There have been times where I've illustrated for friends and small startups, but not enough to go full time with it. Moreso just to help out small businesses.” You explained.

The two of you continued asking each other questions and eating in between. Time seemed to stop for the night. The only thing you and David were concerned about was each other. As the sunset turned into a dark sky, you sat across from David, captivated by him. You could tell he knew it, too. He would hold your eye contact for slightly longer than normal, and whenever your hands were on the table, he would make it his mission to rest his hand atop yours.

The drinks didn't help either. Neither of you wanted to get drunk on your first date, but you definitely felt tipsy. The alcohol made both of you more brave, light touches turned to hand-holding, and your conversations became more personal. You both talked about your parents and how they felt about your jobs. You talked about your time as a therapist and he talked about some of his more significant cases.

“I tried to be a therapist for the elderly because I thought it would be less pressure. David, I was so wrong.” You laughed, shaking your head. He chuckled as you recalled getting harassed by old men and women for 40 hours a week.

“Deacon.” He interjected.

“What was that?” You tilted your head to the side, confused.

“Call me Deacon. That’s what my team calls me.” He just wanted to hear you say it.

“Well, alright. Deacon.” You smiled, feeling your cheeks begin to hurt. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. You stared at each other, enjoying just being together. Your romantic staring contest was broken by your waitress dropping off your check. You reached for it, but Deacon was too quick.

“Deacon. Come on.” You reached your hand out, silently asking for the receipt.

“No, no. I asked you out. And, I'm honored you accepted, despite not knowing me.” He nestled his card in the tin and set it aside, turning his attention back to you.

“I get the feeling you're not going to budge on this, so thank you.” You folded your arms across each other and set them down in front of you.

“It was nice getting out, it's been a while since I did the whole ‘first date’ thing” Deacon allowed himself to be honest.

“I completely agree. It's more awkward than I remember.” You laughed.

You and your date continued talking long after your drinks ran out. You felt so warm with him, and the wine didn't encourage you to leave him either. You continued flirting and getting to know each other before a commotion was heard a couple of tables behind you. You took your eyes off Deacon to turn around finding a group of people dressed in dark informal clothing. One of them held his hand underneath his jacket which made you whip your head back to Deacon. His once soft expression was replaced with a look of concern.

“Um- Deac? I- Do you think somethings wrong?” Your hand made its way to the back of your neck in an attempt to rub away the rising tension. He didn't respond, looking down into his lap. You worked at a school, so it wasn't hard to tell he was texting someone. Your heart raced. It was obvious Deacon agreed that there was a problem.

You were going off sound alone, as the group of people were behind you. You managed to twist your head and spare a glance their way, only to find them talking very quietly with the now frightened host. Whatever they were telling her was scaring her shitless. You felt so bad for her, wondering what she was thinking.

With Deacon clearing his throat you looked back at him, and he gave you a forced smile. He rested his hand on the table, a silent request for you to grab it. You interlocked your fingers and squeezed, letting him know you were anxious.

“Be honest, how likely is it they're here for a table?” You met his eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation. You didn't need to though because he sighed and gave up on trying to hide his feelings from you.

“Unlikely. They look familiar, probably wanted for something. We can't do anything about it right now, so just relax. It'll be alright.” He soothed as he looked past you to see the host leave the group. The group of people looked around, one in particular made eye contact with a woman nearby. The older lady was decked out in diamonds and a fancy bag. The man must have been feeling bold because he walked up to her and held his jacket slightly ajar. Deacon couldn't see what he was concealing but it was pretty obvious it had to be a gun.

The woman's face fell and the man she was with stood up clearly offended. Deacon's worst fears were confirmed when the man pulled out a gun and pistol-whipped the older man. Other patrons in the restaurant screamed and moved away from the man. You saw movement out of the corner of your eye and turned to see Deacon beside you. He pulled you around the table and pulled you down to the ground. He told you to stay there before turning back towards the commotion.

You peered around the table to find the woman was forced to take off her jewelry and pass over her bag. Deacon raised his gun and announced he was LAPD. You were shocked. He was outnumbered and you had no idea if anyone else carried. You turned your attention to the other group members. One ran out once the hostility started, and two others looked at each other in a mix of disbelief and anger. You took this as a sign this wasn't planned. It also seemed like the group wasn't willing to kill. The man aimed his pistol at Deacon but refrained from firing, resorting to yelling instead. This scared all of the now hostages but only made Deacon feel better. If talking meant not shooting, he was okay with it.

It was hard for you to make out what he was saying, but you could tell he was scared. He likely acted on impulse and was struggling to de-escalate the situation. It's unlikely they knew a cop would be there, especially since your name was on the reservation. A couple of people tried to weasel their way out of their booths and sneak away but that only made the man more upset. His audience was leaving. He aimed his pistol and the nearby chandelier and fired, leaving you to scramble from your hiding spot as glass debris fell around you and nicked at your skin.

You tried not to think about the blood pooling on your arms and face and just focused on finding cover elsewhere. Deacon had to trust the best way he could help was by keeping his gun raised, and trying to talk the man down. The other guys noticed the situation getting progressively worse and tried pulling him back towards the door, but it only angered the man more. He whipped around to yell at them, giving Deacon an opening to run and tackle the man.

You were shocked because there was no telling what the other guys would do. Fortunately, the man's accomplices took the lowered guns as a sign to run. Your eyes followed them through to windows as they ran across the street. They didn't get far before police cars cut them off, and they were forced to surrender.

Hearing shouting, you looked back to your date pulling the man up from the ground, his hands held behind his back. The gun was kicked away, and before long people wearing SWAT uniforms arrived, putting handcuffs on the gunman, and taking him away. Deacon didn't waste any time running over to you and looking at your various cuts.

“I'm so sorry, (Y/N).” He grabbed the black napkin from the table to press it against your forehead, making you wince.

“Y-... You didn't shoot the chandelier,” You looked around at the chaos surrounding you. EMT’s loaded the old man onto the gurney. Patrons hugged and made their way to their tables, unsure of what happens next. “Everyone’s okay thanks to you. You called the police?” you asked as he held your hand over the napkin, a silent request for you to hold pressure.

“I texted a coworker. They took care of getting a team here. I don't think they called the patrol cars though. Maybe the host called.” He looked over your other scrapes, gauging how much medical attention you needed. “I think some of these need stitches…” Deacon looked over to see the EMTs occupied with the elderly man, and some other people complaining of heart rates.

“I still think I’m too shaken up to drive-” You were interrupted.

“I'll take you.” Deacon placed his hands on top of yours.

“Okay.” You sheepishly responded. You let him pull you up and with a hand on the small of your back he led you to his car. Deacon was helping you into the passenger seat when an officer ran over.

“Deac! You okay, man?” The man rested his hand on the open door looking at the two of you.

“Yeah, Yeah. Thanks for coming so quickly, Hondo.” He nodded looking towards the restaurant and the guests funneling out. Another two teammates ran over to you, and the idea that you were meeting his squad set in. You felt yourself sink into the seat, as you looked at the ground.

“Hey! Is this your date?” One of the other teammates asked.

“Are you okay?” Another member asked.

When you hesitated to respond Deacon spoke up on your behalf. “Luca, I knew it was wrong to hope I’d get through this date without you crazies. This is (Y/N). She got cut up by the chandelier, so I was going to take her to the hospital to get patched up.”

“You know you gotta meet the squad family early! I’m Luca, this is Chris, and that is Hondo.” The man explained. You tried to nod along, but the shock and the blood loss made you dizzy.

“Uhh, yeah yall need to get going. We can do introductions later.” Hondo said, taping his teammate's shoulders. You have him a smile, before waving at them. Deacon shut your door and jogged around to the other side. Once he was inside he sped off, quickly navigating the Friday night traffic. You occasionally zoned out, putting gaps in your memory. Deacon tried to keep a hand on you at all times to help ground you. He helped you check in, and stayed by your side as you got stitched up. He stepped out a couple of times to take phone calls. He profusely apologized every time, even with you explaining it was okay.

The nurse finished with your bandages and instructed you to keep your injuries clean and dry. He left, giving you and Deacon time alone before you had to head out. You sat in silence for a while, his hand in yours. You felt yourself zoning out again, and Deacon must have noticed too because he spoke quietly, drawing you back to the present.

“How are you feeling?” He rubbed the back of your hand, a concerned expression on his face.

“... I'm hurting, but I’m alive. This is what you experience every day?” You kept your eyes on the floor.

“I usually have a lot more warning, and protection, but yeah. It can be hard to digest and process emotions when things like this happen. Your wounds are large enough to raise some concern for infection too. Don't think you can't reach out… okay?”

“Thank you, Deacon. Know that I'll take you up on that.” Your worries dissolved, finally being safe and patched up.

“Are you ready to head out? I can just take you home.” Deacon suggested.

“And leave my car at the restaurant? I don't have a way to get it back to my apartment.”

“I'll pick you up to grab it tomorrow morning. Or I’m sure I can have Hondo drive it back for you if you're worried about it being at the restaurant that was just robbed.” He was happy to make any accommodation if it meant you wouldn't worry as much.

“That’s… really nice. I’d like that- you can just take me home though. My car should be fine.” You blushed, excited to extend the date longer. With a plan in place, Deacon led you to the lobby, and out of the clinic. He, once again, helped you into your seat before letting you direct him to your house. The ride was relatively quiet. The only thing on your mind was working up the courage to invite him in. You worried he would take it the wrong way, or think you were just expecting sex. Deacon pulled into your spot in the parking garage, slowly turning to you.

“This place is… sketchy.” He mumbled.

“Most apartments in the heart of LA are…” You smiled. Deacon watched as your smile faded, watching the gears turn in your brain. “...Would you want to come in? I mean- like, just to talk. I don’t want this date to end.” He smiled back, making you comfortable by adding, “If you don't have a bedtime tonight, that is.”

“I would like that,” He laughed before continuing. “Annie has the kids this weekend.” You smiled and reached for your door handle. He put a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. You couldn't help but laugh and gently shake your head as he ran around to help you out of the car.

You led him to your apartment, his hand never leaving your waist. You wouldn't have guessed his love language was touch, but it was comforting regardless. You tried to think about the state of your apartment, deciding it was probably fine. You unlocked your door, and let him inside.

Deacon took in your apartment, just as cozy as your office. He could tell you took pride in your space and enjoyed just being in it. The overhead lights were off, and lamps and soft warm light made the living room very inviting. He looked for more pictures on the walls, finding more from hikes and parties. You asked him if he wanted something to drink, and he quietly said he'd have whatever you were having. Deacon was focused on the walls of your home. He heard two beers clink against the coffee table. He soon after felt your arms wrap around his waist from behind.

“You do this with all your first dates?” He asked laying his hands on top of yours.

“This date wasn't a normal one, and you know that.” You laughed into his back. You retracted your hands and led him over to your couch, where your drinks were. He sat down and grabbed his beer, putting his arm over the back of the couch and urging you to sit by him.

You obliged, cuddling up close to him. A brief silence settled between the two of you until you thought back to how you met.

“Did you and Mathew talk more about his writing?” You ran your finger over the ridges in the bottle.

“I did. I think it brought us closer together. He decided to show Annie, too. I think it's helping us understand what he's going through and helps him know he can still rely on both of his parents.” He paused to gauge your reaction at the mention of Annie, but the reaction on your face was happiness—happiness for his son and his family. “It’s all thanks to you, you know…” He took a sip of his drink.

“Ah, it's my job, Deacon. Those kids are important to me, and they all need support from their school. It takes a village, or whatever the saying is.” You furrowed your eyebrows thinking about the countless visits kids have had with you, and how many students crashed your office during their lunch to discuss their feelings. The students who you let nap on your chairs, the lunch program you helped run, and so many more small moments that added up to big changes for students.

“Well, whatever you're doing it's working. Lila thinks you're great too. Over the past few weeks, they haven't stopped talking about you.” He mentioned.

“Thank you.” You felt uncertain about how the kids gushed about you up around Annie, so kept the response short. Deacon must have noticed because he grabbed your hand. You looked up at him and smiled.

“I’m glad you asked me out.” You said quietly.

“I’m glad you didn't think it was weird.” Deacon earned a laugh from you. “So, does that mean you'll go on a second one with me?” He asked.

“It does, but you gotta pick the restaurant this time.”

The end :P

Taglist? Thanks for the support!

@pear-1206

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