2020-04-27 - First Responders Blow Off A Bit Of Steam

Nothing like a rough one for the responders that takes you a couple hours past your shift end. All in a day's work as they say. Abandoned Warehouse, squatters.. lots of unknown substances that would make your toes curl had you known they were there.. and add one cooking fire. Stir roughly and it's a responder's instant nightmare. Devlin is over at the bar already working on a beer. Lucky him, he got to take an injured fire fighter to the hospital. There is a huge platter of nachos near him that bares out the text he sent.. Beer and Nachos for those wanting to kick back.

Tyler wanders in not far behind Devlin. He's tired, too, after the long shift. He flops on a stool beside Devlin. "Hey, man," he offers running his hand through his helmet hair. He nods at the bartender, "Diet Coke." Looking at Devlin, he asks, "The job sucks some days, huh?" He sighs.

There is that combination of wry smile with a touch of haunted in Devlin's eyes as he answers, "Still beats the hell out of treating a patient when someone is firing an RPK at you. Though the air tends to be cleaner. Oh, Beeson is comfortable for now. They got him stabilized and hoping they don't need to take him into surgery." He takes a pull on his beer, followed by a few chips with a lot of stuff and plenty of peppers. "Never got to go to a bar after a fire fight either.. come to think about it." He raises his beer, "Another plus..."

Tyler tilts his head a little, "What's an RPK?" His brow lifts a little. "Is that a gun?" He nods a bit about the hurt fireman. "Good good." He is handed his Diet Coke, and he takes a drink. "Bar soda always tastes flat," he notes to himself. "A fire fight? Were you in the Army or something?"

Devlin nods, "Machine gun, will definitely ruin your week on a good day. Did four tours with the 82nd as a Sixty Eight Whiskey... or Combat Medic in normal terms." He chuckles, "Yeah, soda is always flat at bar, does not matter where in the world, that's why I get beer and food to go with it." He munches a little more and takes a swig from his mug. "And I even speak enough Arabic to get by."

One of the other fire fighters at another table, that Devlin can not directly see, points his finger to his head followed by the crazy swirl around his ear. He then points to Devlin.

Tyler laughs a little, "I don't drink, so... Flat soda it is for me." He shrugs, and then notices the other firefighter. He smirks, "Terrell says you're crazy," he notes, totally outting the guy twirling his finger. Looking at Devlin, he chuckles, "What makes you crazy, bro?"

Ever seen that grin that makes you think someone just went to the candy store and got more than they wanted? Well that is Devlin's grin as he just flips off Terrell over his shoulder without looking back. "Well, you tell me if any of this sounds sane to you. I trained to jump out of perfectly good aircraft while in flight in complete darkness with the expectation of going into combat. Treating wounds in the middle of combat even if they are the wounds of a guy that was trying to kill you five minutes ago."

Terrell just replies, "Not my type." And Devlins comes back, "That's ok Son, your mom liked me.." and that gets a roar of laughter from the others as Terrell gets a little red faced as he doesn't know where to go with it.

Tyler rolls his eyes at Terrell, and just ignores him, focusing instead on Devlin. "So, that's a yes, then," he notes with a wry smirk. He takes another drink of his soda. "How long ago was that, ... Devlin, right?"

Devlin says, "Got out in 17." A few more bites taken and a swig. He motions to the bartender to give Terrell a refill.. no hard feelings at this end. "Tried to get a gig as an LA SWAT Medic.. that kind of fell through thanks to a fucked up privileged politician." He sighs a bit, "He blames me for his son dying on the table. I made the right call, three lived and I gave his son the best chance to make it." He takes a breath, "Sometimes the reaper wins.. I hate it but he keeps me sharp."

"You got out, but it sounds like you carry it pretty heavy with you," says Tyler. "You gotta prioritize at triage, man. Folks who don't work the job don't understand that," he reassures Devlin about what he did with that politician's son. "That why you left LA and came here? To get out from that politician's glare?"

Devlin nods, "Glare.." he laughs a bit, "That man knew too many of the right people and had even more in his pocket. Got me investigated and a lot of other shit. Short version, wanted to make sure I would never be a paramedic in California. As to how I got here.. Well, not totally out, This Major I worked with in Afghanistan needed an E six with my qualifications. So I have a slot over at Tacoma in the guard as medivac crew in the Guard."

Tyler rolls his eyes, "Bureaucrats." He scratches the back of his head and leans his elbow on the counter. "I never served or anything. Just went into firefighting out of high school. Keep my head down low and try to stay out of trouble."

Devlin nods in agreement. "Yeah, Remfs.. " he says the later word as if it should be a curse. "Smart play. Just making a guess, grew up here I take it? Or near by?" He smiles a bit, "How long have you been a smoke eater?"

Tyler nods, "Yeah. Lived here until I was thirteen, when my folks died. After that I bounced around foster care for a while, but for the most part, was here in town. Been doing the job about three years or so." He smiles, "I love it. You know, I wasn't ever really too smart or anything, so it's cool to have something I can do that's awesome and fits the skills I do have."

Devlin says, "Takes a smart man to be a team player and understand fire. I love being a medic myself. Met one of the guys that was at the towers as a kid. He inspired me to be a medic rather than go infantry or armor like so many in my family have." He then raises his glass, "Cancer.. got him.." A swig is taken.."

"That sucks," Tyler answers. "I was four on 9/11, but I'm sure it was just awful." He nods a little, in silence, and then finishes off his Diet Coke before glancing at his phone. "Ugh. I need to head out. It was cool getting to know you a bit more, Dev. Sorry about the crazy," he adds, glancing back at Terrell, as he hops off his stool to go.

Devlin finishes his beer, "It's all good. Sane people can't handle what we do." He offers a hand, "Good to meet you, Tyler. I hope we don't get to many parties like we just attended.. it's rough on people." He then pays the tab for the table of firefighters with his.. of course not telling them he did. "Catch you later."

Tyler shakes the man's hand. It's kind of a mediocre handshake, not really ever taught how to give a proper strong one. "Agreed. Take care." He smiles one last time, and then heads off.