A/N: This is a Partner Story. While this may well be a perfectly good story on it's own, the full effect of this will only come if you read this with the story 'Chasing Destiny: Fear'. You could choose to read one first and then the other, but since I will be updating the stories together, you might as well read them chapter by chapter, switching off stories after each chapter. I think the idea will come across better that way anyway. Please, Review, Tell me if you like this idea. I have decided to start responding to reviews, so if you review, i write a message in my next story. Thank you.
Messing With Minds.
8 Years Ago
He wasn't quite sure what was going on. All he knew was that alarms were blaring somewhere, and there were lights flashing, and his mom was holding him to her tight. In front of him his house was light up bright, but it was too early for Christmas lights, and besides, this light wasn't steady like the electric glow of holiday lights. This light was violent, it was crazy, it was hot. It was really hot. He felt the blistering air pushing against his face, against his skin, drying out his eyes of any tears that might have come out. But why would he be crying? His mom was crying. Even in the face of overwhelming heat little wet lines streaked her faces as she petted his blonde hair holding him close.
"Chase… oh Chase, it's okay, we're okay…" she whispered soothingly into his ear, silently crying. Of course they were okay. Chase was eight now, he could tell when he was or wasn't okay. A group of men dressed in heavy looking yellow coats ran past, dragging a long snake behind them. In the background, somewhere, Chase heard yelling and saw as water began to shoot from the snake's mouth. It looked a lot like a fire hose. Those men looked a lot like firemen. That light looked a lot like… fire.
Fire engulfing his house.
The smell of smoke drifted into his nose, part of his roof collapsing onto itself, it all made the memory of why he was currently standing outside shoot back into his brain like a shot gun. He was asleep, and then he wasn't, as a screech came out of the little knob on the ceiling of his room. Before he could get out of bed, his parents burst into his room, Mom carrying Sonia, his Dad grabbed him from his bed, sheets and all. By the time they were outside Chase could already hear the sirens. And then he remembered… the men running by him with the hose. Suddenly it occurred to him why his mom was currently crying into his shoulder.
He watched with amazement as his house burnt down in front of him. Which is why he saw when a small furry face poked it's way through the curtains, appearing in what was left of their front window.
Jake.
His dog. His dog looked helplessly from the window. He could see it barking, but the sirens and gushing water drowned out the sound before it could get anywhere near him. Chase tried to look through the window to the scene behind Jake, but all he could see was black smoke.
Wrenching away from his mother he ran to the nearest fireman. He was holding a radio and looked busy and maybe he could help Jake.
"My dog!" he yelled. The man looked at him and worry flashed across his face.
"Son! Step back. You are too close," He held out a hand, and started to repeat himself.
"No!" Chase tried to interrupt, pointing towards the window where he could still see Jake. The dog was scratching at the window.
"We're doing everything we can. But I need you to go back to a safe distance with you family," He looked at Chase sternly, ignoring a beep on his radio. Chase could tell this man still had no idea what he was talking about, but he needed to help Jake.
"No—" he pointed, but it was no use. The man had pushed him gently towards his family and turned back to the house.
Chase screamed in frustration, but this time the fireman didn't turn. He felt hot tears pressing behind his eyes, hotter than the dry air that was being blown into his face. He couldn't stand it. Jake was his dog. He was going to save him.
He ran, darting past the radio man. He had already passed the line of men with the hose by the time he heard someone yelling "Stop him!" somewhere behind him. But he was fast, and these men had no chance of catching him with all their heavy gear. The front door was still open, or maybe it wasn't even there anymore, but he wasn't even completely into the house before he was blinded by smoke. He ran in, unafraid, disappearing into the smoke before anyone could stop him.
Coughing, he remembered all the safety lessons they had taught him in school, he dropped to the floor, pulling his shirt over his nose and mouth. But the smoke was too thick, and his shirt, his pajama t-shirt, was thin. He continued coughing as he made his way to the front room, crawling slowly, avoiding the flaming walls. When he crawled through the doorway he noticed that this room was still fire free, the smoke was high enough that he could almost stand. Behind him, he heard yelling as two men made their way slowly through the house. He tried yelling back, but immediately began hacking up the smoke and soot, and it burned. He turned around, trying to call to Jake, but his throat was too dry to make a noise. He ran to his dog, pulling the large, soot covered dog into a hug as he tried to clear his throat.
Suddenly he heard a large crack behind him, and he turned to see a pile of burning ceiling fall across the doorway. His way out. He could see the fire spreading slowly across the thick carpet of the family room.
"Help!" but his throat was still to dry, and he only heard a scratchy cry falling from his open mouth. He turned to the window, where he had first seen Jake, and began pounding on it, screaming as he tried to get the attention of the firefighters. He tried breaking the glass, but there was no was he was strong enough. He was small for his age. No real muscles, he was just fast.
He felt the tears pressing out past his eyes but knew they weren't lasting on his face. It was too hot. He kept slapping at the glass, trying to make as much noise as possible pleading with the world to get someone's attention. The smoke was too thick. He wasn't loud enough. He had no chance.
The window shattered as a pair of hand appeared next to him. They were thick, gloved. He looked up and saw two large figures, masks covering their faces as they broke away the window into a hole large enough to climb through. One of them jumped through the opening, and Chase felt himself lifted and passed through, carefully avoiding the sharp shards of glass that still surrounded him. He tried to yell for Jake, but nothing came out, but this time, the firefighter recognized what he was saying. Chase watched over the shoulder of the man who carried him away as the other man climbed out of the window, carrying the dirty wriggling mass that was Jake.
And as he watched, the fire engulfed the house, causing the pieces of ceiling to fall in a flaming mass. Even as he was sat on a stretcher, and an oxygen mask was pressed to his face, and his parents gathered around him, asking him questions, hugging him, he couldn't stop watching as the fire devoured, and destroyed, and changed. He watched as the flames began to dance, avoiding the water and beating it back and growing in strength as the light flickered violently across the night sky. He watched as the fire grew, and shrank, disappearing from one window all together before growing triple in another.
Even two weeks later, as his family settled into a temporary apartment, as he got ready for his interview with the local new station the next day, as he was deemed a hero who risked his life, he remembered the fire. And how beautiful it was.