Based on Season One...
fast-paced exploration into the lives and careers of first responders... cops, paramedics, firefighters... the people who put their lives on the line to save others. These emergency responders must try to balance saving those...
Two employees were sitting in an office at a table...
One of them sees a window cleaner smiling at them.
"This guy is such a creep." Stephanie said.
"Who?"
"Him." Stephanie says, nodding to the window.
Suddenly the window cleaner straps snapped, and Stephanie grabbed her phone.
Abby: "911. What's your emergency?"
Stephanie: "He fell... oh, my God, I can't believe this is happening. He just fell!"
Abby: "Okay, take a breath. Who fell?"
Stephanie: "The pervy guy. The window washer, the wires snapped, or whatever, and he's hanging by his foot."
The fire truck pulled up at the scene.
"All right, Ash, that rig could go any second. I'm gonna go up to the roof and secure the cable. You go up the ladder; get it up to him. Let's go." Bobby says.
"Bob. Bob. I'll go up to the roof. You know, I... I can get there quicker and make sure the cable is secure." Ashleigh says.
Bobby stared at her for a second.
"All right, good idea." Bobby said.
Later, Ashleigh was sitting in the locker room, staring at the floor, when she heard footsteps and saw Bobby...
"Don't. All right? I... I know I let you down."
She stood up and stared at him, inhaling sharply and leaning against the lockers.
"A year ago, I put in to be a Navy SEAL."
"I didn't know you were in the Navy." He says.
"I wasn't. Don't have to be in the Navy to try out for the SEALs. You just have to be particularly badass, you know... I am. Didn't have any trouble with the physical part. Following orders isn't my best quality, but hey, I was working on it."
"Why didn't anything stick?" He asked, walking over and sitting down beside her.
"They wanted machines. People who could, uh... flip a switch in their heads and... turn off every natural, human instinctive emotion in their body, and I couldn't do that. I don't... I don't want to do that. I love this job because I get to help people. Remember the first person you lost?"
"Katherine Vance... 32 years old, blonde hair, green eyes. She was wearing a blue University of Michigan T-shirt, white shorts, and black Converse High Tops. She had painted smiley faces on the toes. Last thing she said to me was, "Please," and then she was gone. Hit by a drunk driver... I couldn't extract her in time. I'm glad you can't... flip that switch. I don't want you to. It's not gonna make you a better firefighter or paramedic. Anybody who tells you that losing someone doesn't affect them is lying." He tells her.
He went into his shirt pocket, pulling out a card and holding it out to her.
"The name and number of a trauma counsellor. We have people in the department who help us deal with this kind of stuff." He says.
She lifted her hand, taking the card from him.
"You don't have to talk to me, but you have to talk to someone."
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