Firestarter

[Crystal Deboir]

In mirror to the years passed where Sarah Vida parked her sapphire blue Jaguar 'vert between the property line of two yards, so did Crystal now, only not with her Redfire SVT, but her mother's somewhat low profile black Acura TSX. She got out of the car, brown Luis Vuitton bag slung over the shoulder of her black silk tank top. Chloe jeans and Jimmy Choo sandals completed her ensemble, and with her Chanel sunglasses and freshly highlighted blonde hair and just-glossed lips, Crystal painted the portrait of spoilt, ignorant rich girl.

She walked the four or five yardspans and cut through the last, rounding the back of the house that seemed to loom. She could close her eyes and know it like the back of her hand; only when she opened them, it didn't disappear to give way to bedroom walls and the comfort of home. It was still there, that place, where everything had changed.

Enough of that. Crystal was going to try and reclaim some of her lost innocence. Like a rape victim, she had searched, struggled, tried to find ways to free herself of this torturous memory, of the lingering sensation that she had been tainted, ruined somehow. Fire, she thought, was purifying. Perhaps if she burned the house, then maybe this voice inside her head would stop, would cease to torment her -- but no, Griffon would never let her go. Vindication in flames, she would burn herself alive within the house of corpses and take this evil with her, sealing it forever.

She went into the house, systematically coating every room in lighter fluid. She walked through the kitchen in a dance, and when that was gone, began soaking the floors in turpentine. She felt only approaching relief, and the girlish anticipation of a promise of retribution.

Crystal twined a match between her fingers and struck it on the wall, standing at the base of the stairwell. She dropped it, and watched the flames travel in a wave across the entire home. It didn't take long before the entire lower area to ignite, sending Crystal up the stairs in a rush. By now it was obvious to the entire neighborhood - windows had exploded and black smoke poured out of the home.

[Jack Harker]

"I'm hot cause I'm fly, you ain't cause you not..."

Rap logic never ceased to amaze Jack, and he grinned as he strolled into the Ramsa Fire Department's lounge, singing along and being a total doofus.  He usually worked for the NYFD, but Ramsa's department had been a bit short on people lately, so he occasionally filled in.  

"This is why, this is why, this is why I'm hot!"

"Wanna know why else I'm hot?" he asked, dropping himself into a chair while he took in the...Go Fish game a few of the other guys were playing.  Ramsa was so much slower than the city.  "I'm hot cause I have ten minutes left of my shift, and then I'm out.  Of.  Here.  I'm sure you guys can handle whatever quiet little Ramsa has to dish out from there," he said happily, leaning back in his chair with a content yawn.

He spoke too soon.

Not two minutes after he stopped talking, their alarm went off.  Someone in the office just got a call.  Wonderful.  "So much for quiet," one of the other guys told him, grinning right back, and Jack flipped him the bird.  Neither of them took it personally, nor did they have time to.  They had to suit up and run.

By the time they arrived at the huge, fiery house, everyone was itching to get moving.  There was something about the siren and the speed with which the firetruck could weave through traffic on the way to a burning building that could really get the blood pumping, and Jack was almost off the truck before it stopped.  The guys working the hose were already attacking the closest hydrant, and some nosy neighbor ran up to him.

"I think there's someone in there!  I saw a woman out here!"  Nosy neighbors had their uses.  They also made his job fun, even if he wouldn't admit that running into a burning building was fun.

"Thanks," he said, grabbing the guy closest to him.  They were the ones who got to go play inside.  "Ready?  First one to find the girl gets a free beer when we get out of here!"

And so, the race was on.  Jack was pretty good at finding people in this sort of situation, and really, that was because he was smart and very aware of irony.  When he and Matt, the other fireman, got inside, he automatically started fighting his way up the stairs.  Why, when the downstairs was probably easier, even though it was nearly engulfed in flames?  Because he knew irony.  That girl would be on the top floor, in the furthest end of the house, where it would be the most difficult to get her out.  People were like cats that way.  It never failed.

He nearly fell through the stairs at one point, having hit an unstable stair that wanted to dump him into the basement, but he grabbed another with a gloved hand, cursed at the offending stair, and kept climbing.  Fortunately, the others were waiting for his trip DOWN to collapse on him, when he had the girl's weight added onto his and he was winning that beer.  And sure enough, he glanced in a few rooms, trying to wave smoke out of his face enough to see inside, and she was in the room at the end of the hall, passed out on the floor.  Smoke inhalation.  Perfect.  Hopefully she hadn't gotten too much.  That close to the floor, at least she was out of reach of most of it.  He approached cautiously, hoping the floor didn't collapse as well, and pulled out one of those handy-dandy oxygen masks to attach to her face, then lifted her into his arms.  He reported in over the radio built into his helmet that he'd found her, and it was back down the slowly disintegrating hallway while he listened to yelling over the rest of the radio.  The other guy seemed to have had to climb out a window after the doorway behind him collapsed, and he wasn't happy about it.  Of course, he was also buying Jack a beer, so why would he be happy?

"Hang in there, girlie, we'll be downstairs in no time," he told the girl, who was thankfully breathing.  They just had to survive the stairs, which meant that Jack was going to be as light-footed as he'd ever been in his life.  He sent a little prayer up to whoever might be listening right before he stepped onto the first stair, and....it held his weight.  On to the second.  By the time he stepped over the one that had collapsed on him, which was about halfway down, he wasn't praying anymore, and was instead singing softly to himself.

"I'm hot cause I'm fly, you ain't cause you not..."

The next step positively CRUMBLED, and he stared at it for a second, wondering if that was God telling him something.  The others below it were starting to follow, and he turned his eyes to the floor at the foot of the stairs instead.  Would it bust and drop them both in the basement with any weight on it?  Time to see.

Instead of heading back upstairs and jumping out a window, which could have worked, Jack clutched the girl in his arms close to his chest in an attempt to shield her, and he jumped towards the bottom of the stairs.  He didn't even wait to really see if it would hold their weight before he was running for the door, and he could hear wood crackling and splintering behind him.  The rest of the stairs, and parts of the floor, no doubt.  There's the door......  Almost there.....and out!

He kept running even once he was outside of the building, assuming that it would be just about as ironic as it could get if there was a gas tank in the basement or something.  With the floor collapsing, he didn't want to be standing there like an idiot while the house exploded.  And now that he was out, the hose could be used, and the girl could be tended to by the paramedics who'd been called in.

"This.  This is why I'm hot," he said with a grin, right before he assisted in setting her on a stretcher for them to examine.  He popped his helmet off.

[Crystal Deboir]

There was something... moving around her. Crystal remembered making it up the stairs before she'd begun to feel dizzy, and she'd dropped into a low crawl, trying to get back to the room - that room - where she should have died in the first place. She'd made it to the door before she just felt so... tired. It was so hard to breathe that she couldn't even think straight. She layed her head down on the floor, and just figured that it would have to do, and it was close enough. She fell into unconsciousness as she awaited her death.

She awoke with the taste of death in her mouth and scent in her nose, visions of Griffon holding her down, biting her over and over, and then there was so much noise and motion, voices, hands grabbing her, something being shoved over her face. Her eyes popped open and she started screaming - she was in Hell, because there was no other place for her to be. Faces were blurry, but all of them seemed to morph into Griffon, laughing, pinning her down. She began struggling and kicking, so much that the EMT had to hold her down, trying to calm her - and then there was someone else, and a familiar scent (maybe from before, from in the house - like Cool Water and smoke) and a soft voice, trying to talk her down. Realizing she was still alive, she suddenly had a newfound panic, and reacted quite poorly.

She couldn't stop fighting and screaming, words making no sense - He's going to get me, he's still in the house - but suddenly the blurs became more clear, structured, and it wasn't Griffon that had hold of her arms, but a man in a fire suit, and he was telling her that she was the only person in the house, and she was safe, and that he'd gotten her before it was too late. She was alive... alive, alive.

Crystal launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around him tightly, and the tears came. The smell of cologne and ash hung in her nose, and it was so much better than the stinging scent of blood Griffon so often came with, and this man was breathing, and real, and here, and now. Crystal couldn't let go - WOULDN'T let go. She held onto him fiercly, though it was hard for her to actually -hurt- someone, it was obvious that it would take more than tugging to wrench him from her grasp.  

[Jack Harker]

People being pulled out of a fire sometimes react in odd ways.  Most cry, usually in relief at being alive, sometimes because they suffered burns that hurt, and some panic just at the trauma of what happened.  Others remain disturbingly calm.  More often than not, those reactions were a result of shock, or the shock suddenly wearing off.  He wasn't entirely sure what was going on with this girl, but he had an idea when she started talking about some guy.

He glanced at Matt to see if there had been anything in the house he hadn't seen, but the man shrugged, not sure what she was talking about.  Usually, this would have been the point where Jack extracted himself from the situation and the EMTs took over, but all he did was talk to her and attempt to help them hold her down so that she wouldn't hurt herself, and she was suddenly clinging to him.  The look he sent the nearest paramedic was very obviously an 'oops?', but there was nothing anyone could really do.  If he could calm her down, that was for the best, right?

"Relax, girlie, you're safe.  My buddy Matt and I checked the rest of the house, there was nobody there," he told her, making his voice about as soothing and comforting as he knew how as he held her, not really sure what else to do.  She was clinging like she'd never let go, and he was betting it'd take a crowbar to get her off against her will.  "You're okay, I promise.  My name's Jack, what's yours?"

Maybe if he got her thinking just a little, she'd relax on the hysterics.

[Crystal Deboir]

She seemed to relax the more conscious she became, the more aware and alert. Her heart was still beating five thousand miles a second, but she was trying visibly to breathe, to just... The horrible realization that she was still alive came again. She almost went back into crying, but as she loosened her grip finally and sat back, warily letting go of Jack, willing him not to vanish like a daydream, she shoved her emotions back down. He had saved her. He had condemned her. How could you possibly do both in one motion? She didn't know if she'd have the guts to try suicide again.

"Crystal," she said in a low voice, and looked away. She felt... bad. Guilty. She wanted to tell him that he'd risked his life for someone who'd never appreciate it, but she looked back at him, and she couldn't. Maybe it was the girl in her, but she just couldn't tell someone who looked that good and had pretty much just risked their ass for her that she might do it again next week anyways.

He told her she was okay. Was she really okay? She didn't know, and that seemed to rip her up on the inside again. She began to cry, but it wasn't bawling, as more of one of those super-painful cries where your chest hurts like someone's punching you and your throat feels like it's going to explode, but only   a few tears come out and you manage to keep a straight face. No, she wasn't okay. She would never be okay.

[Jack Harker]

Of course, Jack had no idea of the thoughts running through her head, or that she'd been the cause of the fire.  From what she'd said, he was actually thinking that whoever the guy she was worried about had been the one who'd started the fire, probably trying to kill her.  He'd seen it before, but that was something that happened in the big city, not here in quiet little Ramsa.  Someone would end up talking to her later about that guy, and it'd probably be the cops.  It wasn't Jack's job, that much was for sure.  He just rushed into buildings to pull people out, he didn't usually talk to them or try to figure out why the house went up.  This girl was a little different, though.  After the way she'd been clinging to him, he didn't think it was right to flee the instant she let go of him, though there was a little voice in his head shrieking, 'run! run away!' at him.  Of course, that voice sounded strangely similar to the one that had happily told him that one of the fountains in Central Park had water he could walk on the last time he'd gotten smashed.  He'd listened to it that time, and he wasn't listening to it now.  He'd learned his lesson until the next time he got drunk.

"Hi, Crystal, nice to meet you," he told her with a smile, pulling off his glove and offering to shake hands.  He was trying to be light and friendly to take her mind off of everything while the paramedics tried to determine if she needed anything other than some clean air or if they had to take her to the hospital.  That smile of his started to falter when he saw her start to cry again, though she put a brave face on.  He admired her for that, especially after the number of people he'd seen bawl after a fire.  

"It may look bad now, but I'm sure everything'll be okay in a few days," he assured her, watching what the EMTs were doing while trying to make it look like he wasn't all that concerned with them.  Distracting her was good.  "So, how old are you?  Do you go to college around here?"

If she was a younger college student, like 19 or 20, they should really try to get in touch with her parents, he thought, but she looked a little older than that.  His oldest guess would have been 23, though that might have been pushing it.  21, maybe?  It was so hard to figure out girls' ages sometimes.  The younger ones had a habit of looking older, and some of the older ones looked younger.  At least once they hit 25, there was no doubt about their ages.  They didn't usually look 20 at that point.  

[Crystal Deboir]

She shook his hand, which was somewhat bigger than her own, and felt different - rough, real. Hers were girlish and soft, but her knuckles were a little bigger than usual - actually, they were swollen. Crystal'd gotten into the nasty habit of punching walls. She had a few holes to fix or move furnature in front of before her parents got back, which would be in two weeks. She could figure it out by then, she was certain.

"I'm twenty-two," she said. "I was taking classes but... some stuff came up, and I just dropped the rest of the year. I'll figure it out... later." Yeah, way later. Crystal had taken to hiding behind the story of a rape victim, which... was pretty true, actually, except she left out the rest of the details. Just the small ones, like it had been some sort of supernatural suck-fest that was planned. Past that, you could look in the police reports for what had been passed off as a 'random gang activity'. Because one girl being eviscerated and beaten to death and another one being... She shuddered. She didn't want to think about it, not now.

She looked back up at Jack, and his presence made her feel a little better. "Don't let me keep you," she said. She didn't want him to hang around, even if it was comfort. She didn't deserve comfort. She didn't want to feel better; she wasn't ALLOWED to feel better.

[Jack Harker]

He obviously had no idea what had happened to her in the past, and wasn't really in the business of making up morbid, horrible histories in his head for people he'd just met, so he assumed she just wasn't feeling talkative after nearly dying in a house fire.  Understandable.  Fortunately, 22 was a pretty mature age, so nobody had to worry about calling her parents or anything.  Really, it'd be up to her to decide where she went, so long as the paramedics said she could go.

"Nah, don't worry about it.  All you're keeping me from is standing around being told I stink of smoke by a bunch of guys who smell like dirty underwear, so unless you think I smell too bad and want me to go away, I'm in no hurry," he told her lightly, just in time for the guy who looked to be the head EMT to say she was fine, other than the smoke inhalation and a need for some rest.  The discomfort from that would fade with some fresh air.

[Crystal Deboir]

She laughed in spite of herself, and then coughed a few times. When she'd finally silenced that pesky lung-smoke reaction, she looked back at him and smiled a little. "Dirty underwear, huh? Well, all I can smell is smoke and... Cool Water, for some reason, which is nice considering I was just in a burning building... so I think you're safe with me for a little, at least."

There was a lull of silence in her head as the EMT in the background, who was really right next to her, gave her the all clear. She barely heard him, sounded like he was talking under water, but then Jack was saying something to her, and she blinked. By his tone he'd said it more than once.

"My car is at home," she said. She didn't really realize for a moment she'd driven the TSX, and instead wondered how indeed she'd gotten here. The cops had a jealous ex story she'd fed them though, and she stuck with it. "I was here with someone." She lowered her eyes. It was convincing. It disturbed Crystal that she had to lie, but she had no choice.

One piece at a time, whether he was there or not, Griffon's aftermath seemed to chip away at her humanity.

[Jack Harker]

"Obviously, you've never smelled one of the riper firemen.  You're lucky you got me," he teased her, winking and tossing her a grin.  He was actually a little surprised at what she said she smelled, since he wouldn't have thought his cologne would have been distinguishable through the smell of smoke and sweat.  Now he was glad he used good cologne, but surprised that she'd recognized the scent.  "The Cool Water is me, and the smoke is probably both of us."

He had to wonder if she was really alright, given the way she suddenly seemed to zone out while he asked her where her car was, but at least he got an answer out of her.  It was probably for the best that she hadn't driven there, since she probably shouldn't be driving home.  "Well, give one of those cops a nice smile, and I'm sure they'll be falling all over each other to drive you home," he assured her, and he meant it.  Seeing her laugh had punctuated the fact that she was rather cute, and he thought it was a shame that he couldn't drive her home himself.

"I'd gladly offer, but I don't have my car here, either.  I drove in on the big red truck," he said, stating the obvious.  "It's fun, but not real great for picking up girls, you know?  I think the size intimidates them," he added in a conspiratorial sort of tone, then winked again.  He couldn't help himself.

[Crystal Deboir]

She looked back to the fire truck, and then at him, standing with the help of an EMT as she tried to get her bearings. "I think it does okay. I mean, you found me, right?" she asked.

Crystal made a sidelong glance past him to the police, wondering how to just ask one of them for a ride home. She was so far from where her house was... How was she going to manage this? Her mom's car was still parked a few houses down, and she frowned. She'd have to figure out a way to get back out here later. Hadn't thought of that.

"I know someone down at the end of the lane. I'll just go over there until one of my friends can come get me." The lie came so easily that it surprised her. What was she becoming? She felt worse on the inside than she did before the fire, but at least that house was gone... forever. Purified. Burned to the ground.

Now she'd just have to find a way to fix herself without someone accidentally saving her before she could.

[Jack Harker]

"You have a point, and it's a real shame I don't find cute ladies at all of the fires.  Usually, it's old people and kids.  You were a pleasant surprise," he told her, smiling, just about to shout for one of the uniformed cops to give her a ride home, and she said she knew someone down the street.

"I could make one of those guys give you a ride down the street.  I can't imagine you want to walk after that," he said, completely understanding.  He'd had to go through training dealing with smoke, and he'd discovered that his helmet had a leak once.  During a rescue.  That hadn't been fun.  "And are you sure one of your friends can come drive you home?"

He shouldn't have really worried, but this was the most contact he'd had with someone he'd saved from a fire before, and he felt kind of...responsible for her.  "My shift was actually just about up when we got this call, so I'm gonna get back to the station, get out of this suit and head home.  I can leave my number with you, and if someone doesn't say they'll drive you home, I will," he offered.  Really, it would have worked better if he'd had HER number and called when he was done to see if she was still there, but he didn't want to look like he was hitting on her that blatantly right after she nearly died.

[Crystal Deboir]

Crystal blinked a little. "Yeah, okay." She smiled faintly, and pulled out her cell phone from her back pocket. Lucky that thing wasn't melted. As she keyed it in, she glanced up at him. "Thanks for... you know." Thanks for ruining my suicide attempt. She wanted to kick him. But he wasn't Griffon, and he wasn't trying to hurt her - he was trying to help. It was more effective than Alex, she noticed bitterly.

"I'll just walk over there. I need some time to think without a bunch of people buzzing around me. Really, it's not a big deal. Promise." There was that smile again, the one that she could make reach her eyes even though it was the furthest thing from it.

"Would it make you feel any better if I called you when I got home?" Subtle, yet, not. Crystal needed stress relief. She was about to make him it.

[Jack Harker]

Even though he had no idea what the job entailed, he was all for being her stress relief, so having her call him was fine with him.  Of course, he didn't really think she wanted to call to relieve her stress, either.  He might have guessed that she'd want to talk because she'd just survived a horrible accident, or because she might actually be interested, but he didn't mind the reason right then.  Just that she'd call was a step in the right direction for him.

"Alright, and you're welcome," he told her with a nod, taking her word for it that it was okay along with her gratitude.  The fact that she wasn't really grateful was just another thing to add to the list of what he didn't know.  He thought he'd done the good thing for her, and he had, even if she didn't think so.  If he'd have known she was trying to kill herself, he'd still have saved her.

"Actually, it would.  Just to make sure you got home alright," he told her, actually looking a little relieved at the offer.  He was better off not talking to everyone he pulled out of fires, especially if they were young and really cute.  It made him feel more involved.

[Crystal Deboir]

"Okay," she nodded. "I'll do that, then." She turned around and started walking down the street, wondering how long she'd have to pretend to be at someone's house before she could get back to her car. She snuck a glance around at Jack, coyly reaching up to her long blonde hair to fix it. When she caught him looking, she turned back around and thrust her hands into her back pockets.

Back to square one... she thought to herself with a sigh. She didn't know how long it'd take her to get the guts to pull a stunt like that again. She hated being so manic, so utterly bi-polar. The duality she was living was killing her. Sometimes she was fine, and she could function - like right now.

But in twenty or thirty minutes? She'd be falling apart at the seams. Oh, why was this so hard?