NO NAMES by ASSENA RATED FRPT

Working for International Rescue has its limitations, as John well knows. Just a face with no name...

We were on our way out when I saw her. She was caught between a plank of wood and the wall, and was bleeding heavily. She looked up as we passed, and stretched out an arm in a silent plea for help. I caught her movement out of the corner of my eye and turned back, hurrying towards her.

"John, where're you going?"

"There's someone trapped in here," I replied, reaching her side. Her lips moved as she tried to speak, imploring me with her eyes to save her. Her eyes were green, I noticed, and there was a smattering of freckles across her cheeks.

"I'm from International Rescue, and I'm going to get you out," I said reassuringly, taking her hand as I looked at her. "Hang in there, okay?" She nodded, and I could see she trusted me with her life. Everyone trusts me with their lives in this business.

Scott reached me only a minute later, and together we shifted the plank of wood. The girl collapsed to the floor without the wood to hold her up, and I bent down and lifted her. She was as light as a feather, and seemed to be twice as delicate. I gazed at her face for a moment. She captivated me for some reason. Just something about her face. She was watching my face too as Scott lead the way out. Maybe she was examining the dirty smears on my skin, or the sweat, or other people's blood on my uniform. Rescuing people takes a lot out of you.

"John, take her over there," Scott ordered, pointing towards the waiting ambulances, many of which were already pulling away, injured people inside. I nodded breathlessly and carried her over. One of her hands was clasped around mine, and the other arm dangled limply by her side. I glanced down at it, and saw her fingernails, torn and broken from tearing at the wood that was killing her. Her eyes were still fixed on my face. I wasn't running to the ambulance, mostly because I was tired, and she was feeling heavier now.

"You'll be okay, sweetheart," I told her reassuringly. "The doctors will look after you, and you'll be fine." She frowned, and her hand tightened on mine. I noticed how expressive her eyes were. She was frightened. "You'll be just fine," I repeated. She let out a small noise, and I smiled. Paramedics had reached me by now, and held a stretcher between them.

"Thanks man, gently now," said one.

"You've done such a great job," said the other, slapping my shoulder. "Thank you." I lowered the girl onto the stretcher, but she still clung to my hand, and was shaking her head.

"No no no, stay, please stay," she squeaked, looking up at me.

"Is there anyone else in there?" asked the first paramedic. I shook my head.

"Please!" she tried to cry out, but it didn't come out very loudly. I knew I should say no. I glanced around. Scott was directing traffic away. I raised my communicator to my mouth.

"Thunderbird Two, I have to go to the hospital with a patient. Contact me if you need me."

"FAB," came back Virgil's voice. We knew each other well enough not to ask too many questions. I looked back at the girl's face. She relaxed, and I sighed.

I ended up at the hospital, feeling fairly useless. As soon as they got her in, they whisked her away to surgery, and I ended up pacing an isolated corridor, waiting like an expectant father. Reporters were kept away from the hospital. And I waited. I was so tired. I sat down on a seat, and found myself asleep.

"Excuse me sir." I opened my eyes, still deadly tired. A nice-looking nurse was looking at me.

"Yes?" I croaked.

"The woman you accompanied here is out of surgery. You may see her now, if you'd like."

"Thank you," I replied, and stood up, my head still muggy with weariness. I followed her up the corridor into a little room. I was forcibly dragged back to the moment I'd walked into the Intensive Care unit, and my little brother had been lying there, sliced up and tubes everywhere. I feared the same for my new little charge. But it wasn't. A single drip fed into her arm, and a respirator was over her mouth and nose, and that was it. She mustn't have been hurt as badly as I thought. I sighed with relief.

"You can sit here a while, if you'd like to, sir."

"Thank you." I sat in the offered chair, and the nurse bustled away. I gazed at the girl. She was a pretty little thing, I thought, though she'd be prettier if her eyes were open and she was laughing. I stroked the fingers that peeped out of the bottom of a heavy cast over her broken arm. I looked at my own hands, filthy and stained with dried blood. Perhaps I should clean up. But as I thought that, my head lowered onto my arm, and I fell asleep again. I was so exhausted.

I next woke again just after she did. I slowly and drowsily lifted my head, blinking to clear my vision. She was gazing at my with her bright green eyes, and she smiled when she saw I was awake.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice a little hoarse. I nodded.

"It was no problem," I replied, my own voice hoarse too. "I live to save lives."

"I know," she replied, and gazed at me. I looked at her fingers, discomforted by her direct look. "And thank you. For everything you've done, for everyone over the world. And for me." I nodded. We sat in silence for a little while.

"My name is Zoe Macleod, what's yours?" she asked. I wanted to reply, I wanted to look her in the face and cry, "I'm John Tracy, I have a name, I'm not just an anonymous International Rescue member, I have an identity and I want you to know it." Instead I just smiled ruefully.

"Sorry, Zoe. We work on a no-names policy." She frowned a little, but then smiled again.

"Then I'll call you by another name."

"Alright then, Zoe." I looked at her, and she looked at me, and something connected between us. "I must go. I have to clean up."

"Yes, you are in a state," she said, and laughed a little.

"I must report back to base," I said, and stood up.

"Please sign my cast?" she asked, and I smiled and agreed. I found a pen on a shelf, and scribbled down the words.

"I must go now. Perhaps we'll meet again."

"Perhaps. Farewell, and thank you. John." I smiled, and left the room, not glancing back, but already wondering if I should have done that. Get well, best wishes, International Rescue. And then, a little around the side, and a little wonky, All my love, John. Now she knows. I do have a name. And maybe, just maybe, I might someday see her again. But until then, I am once again a heroic face with no name.

"Johnny, we're waiting for ya out back. Grandma's made apple pie for us. Hurry up, I'm starved!"

"Reading you loud and clear, Gordon!"

Well, maybe to everyone else.