geekfan67

[geekfan67]

i should call this sentences sunday bc it might be part of a bigger thing but i am le tired. i'm tagging you in my heart, believe

~

Just over twenty four hours later, he brings Evan to the temporary home of the Grant-Nashes. Athena presses pause on nitpicking her children's sad, slow attempt to make lunch (despite the fridge that he knows is packed with enough food to keep the three of them going for a good two weeks) and eyes Tommy.

Evan shrugs and joins the kids, hugging May and squeezing Harry's shoulder before he pulls them into a quiet conversation.

"I'd like you to be a pallbearer," Athena says.

"Oh." Tommy doesn't ask, Are you sure? but it definitely shows in his face because she suddenly looks more determined than tired.

"We need a sixth. And you were there when we met, you know?"

"Was I?" he says. Then it comes to him. "The rooster?"

"The rooster. It was his first week at the 118." Her lips purse into a facsimile of a smile. "I confess, I didn't remember you." He doesn't take it personally. They'd barely interacted in those days. "But after-"

"Evan?"

She shakes her head slightly. "The cruise ship, actually. I asked where Hen and the other knuckleheads found a helicopter pilot willing to fly into a hurricane, and Bobby..." Her whole body goes rigid.

"Sergeant," he says softly.

She tilts her head in mock annoyance. "Call me Athena," she says, her voice husky with unshed tears. "He said, 'Oh, that was Tommy. He was one of mine.'"

One of mine. Jesus.

"You helped give us one extra year together. You helped keep my kids from having to mourn us both. Do this one last thing for him."

"Of course. Athena."

[geekfan67]

[geekfan67]

It’s sad how much of what is taught in school is useless to over 99% of the population.

There are literally math concepts taught in high school and middle school that are only used in extremely specialized fields or that are even so outdated they aren’t used anymore!

[geekfan67]

on the other hand, this is sending me

[geekfan67]

"This is your grandad, Bobby," Buck coos at the small, wrapped up infant in his arms. The baby coos, wrapping a strong finger around his blanket and babbling.

"Bobby," Buck regards the headstone, "this is Henry."

Buck sniffles, holding Henry tighter to his chest.

"Henry Wade Buckley-Kinard. I told Tommy he's gonna have a hell of a time signing his name."

The graveyard is silent, save for the wind blowing easily through the dead leaves on the branches of the trees watching over Bobby's final resting place. Buck waits, letting enough time pass that a response could have been given.

If Billy Boils can haunt him from the afterlife, Buck likes to imagine Bobby sitting on the other side of the headstone, watching him with pride.

"Robert was already taken, obviously," Buck acknowledges that he would have named his child after this man. He wants Bobby to know that he truly considered it, that if Maddie and Chimney hadn't gotten there first, he would have. "I doubt Robby would want to share a first name with his cousin."

The wind rustles again. Buck smiles.

"I know, I know, I haven't visited in a while. In my defense, I've been busy. The, uh, surrogate- it was a close call for a second there. But we made it, didn't we, Henry?" Buck holds Henry's finger in his hand.

"I kept thinking- when it was pretty touch and go- what you would have said. Something inspirational probably. Something mature. But, God, I was a wreck. Piper, you remember our surrogate, got into a car crash on her way to the hospital. It was a really bad pile up. So baby Henry was delivered at midnight on the side of the highway by Hen. Chim told me that my kid wouldn't be delivered any other way."

The wind settles and quiet takes over the air. Buck sniffles.

"You were right, by the way. Tommy's good for me. He kept me from spiraling. I wish you could have been at the wedding, I know I told you all about it, but it's different having you there. Instead of an empty seat."

Henry starts kicking his legs in the air, letting out a cry, "Okay, big guy, come here." He puts him over his shoulder, patting his back.

"You should see Tommy right now. Got more gray hairs than you did." The joke lands hard on Buck's chest. But the wind kicks up again.

It's a cool Autumn day, Buck reminds himself, it's just windy out.

"Anyways," Buck runs through the list he typically has on these visits, "I'm sure Athena has told you all about May moving to France. Uh, Hen is still captain at the 118. Denny and Mara found a cat in their garbage can and are currently trying to convince Hen to take it in. She's totally gonna cave. Oh! Eddie's finally engaged! He finally popped the question after, like, a year of agonizing over it. I told him, if you don't ask, she will. Jee-Yun's getting so big now. She's in a phase where she wants to call everyone by their first name. So, Robby is the only one who calls me Uncle Buck anymore. Maddie says she's going through her rebellious, pre-teen phase. It reminds me of how Chris used to be, who, by the way, is doing great in college. I mean, he's changed his major about five times by now, but he'll figure it out. If I can settle down, so can he, right?"

The wind blows again, knocking up some of the leaves on the ground. Henry settles.

"Um, Henry's great." Buck sniffles again, feeling tears well up, "But, just between you and me, I feel like- God, I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing," tears pour out against his will, "Like I'm still that stupid 26 year old kid knocking around the firehouse. But now I have this-this tiny thing that relies on me. And a husband. God, if I could go back in time and tell Buck 1.0 that he would have a husband and a baby, he- well, he probably would have found the nearest hookup to drown out how that would have made him feel."

Gravel crunches underneath the tires of Tommy's truck. Buck turns and waves, "He said he went to move the truck but I think he just wanted to give me time alone with you. I don't know what I did to deserve all this," Buck looks to the neatly kept headstone. Athena comes by every week now and cleans it off, tending to the flowers growing around it, lighting candles on anniversaries. She used to come every day but he thinks the raging grief has settled into routine and domesticity.

Tommy slowly approaches, "Hey, baby," he greets the two of them, then turns, "Hi, Bobby."

Buck leans into Tommy's touch, resting his head against Tommy's chin. Tommy's arms come up and encircle the two of them. Henry babbles.

"Do you remember," Buck asks the gravestone, "when I asked you if you thought I was at peace?"

He feels Tommy grin. He mentioned this in his vows.

"I know the answer now."

Tommy kisses his head, then bends down to kiss Henry's.

"Ready?" Tommy asks, rubbing a hand up and down Buck's back. He felt no pressure to rush or leave, but he felt ready as he would ever be. Walking away from Bobby's presence was never easy.

"Yeah," Buck looks down at little Henry, "Alright, buddy, say goodbye to your grandpa." He waves Henry's hand at the grave, who babbles but looks generally pleased. His eyes catch on something in the air and he giggles, flopping his hands around a little more.

He follows his gaze and tries not to feel silly looking at the air, "I love you, Bobby. See you soon."

[geekfan67]

Incredible, but true: @osh-my-prince deserves to have a good day today.

[geekfan67]

[geekfan67]

several sentence sunday

This week I promised that when I hit 20K on Nora verse I would share a snippet, and Tommy holding Nora for the first time won. I was also tagged by @bidisasterevankinard and @unhingedangstaddict this weekend so I've decided to roll that tag into this. But without further ado here's some Nora verse.

"Would you like to hold your daughter, mister firefighter pilot?" The nurse asks. Tommy can't find his voice so he just nods.

A moment later the baby is placed into his arms and the world—which had felt swirling and unmoored, unsteady beneath his feet since Evan was admitted to the hospital— feels steady again. He knows that the awe he is feeling is plain on his face, but he can't help it. That's his baby. He's holding his baby.

He only holds her for a few moments, turning and making his way back to Evan's side. He places her on Evan's bare chest, skin to skin, draping the thin, hospital issue baby blanket over the two of them to keep them warm. A shaky hand comes up to stroke her nose.

"Oh, she’s perfect." Evan says, the same awe and wonder that Tommy is feeling filling his voice as he looks down at their impossibly tiny daughter. Tommy wonders if Evan felt his world shift the same way that Tommy did when she was placed in his arms.

"She’s got my nose."

"Like I said, she’s perfect." Evan says, and Tommy knows if he had the energy he would be directing a playful glare his way, but all he does is stare down at their miraculous little girl, gently stroking at her cheek. "Hi, baby," Evan says, so softly Tommy almost misses it. "I didn’t know about you until today, but I’m so glad you’re here now." Evan bends down to place a kiss on top of her head. "I love you so much, and so does your other dad."

Tommy doesn't know how long they spend in that moment, the three of them in their own little bubble, but eventually reality comes back to them.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, dads, but we need to take baby for some testing." A nurse says, a regretful look on their face. Tommy knows that they were lucky that they've had this much time with her, that they wouldn't be taking her away if it wasn't important. It's a good sign that she wasn't whisked away the moment that she was born, Tommy reminds himself. It means that there were no immediate concerns, but they don't know everything that's going on internally.

"O-okay." Evan says, swallowing thickly. "I love you." He tells the baby, again, and he presses another kiss to the top of her head. He doesn't loosen his grip on her, so Tommy reaches out and takes her from him, Evan's hands falling limply on his chest now that he doesn't have a baby to cradle there.

Tommy holds her close to his own chest for a moment, leaning down and pressing his own kiss to the top of her head, and stays there for a second, eyes closed, head bowed, and then he hands her over to the waiting nurse.

The moment she's out of her dads arms she starts to fuss, and it takes every bit of willpower Tommy posses not to reach out and snatch her back from the nurse. The nurse gives them a sympathetic look and assures them that she'll be in the very best, most capable hands, and then turns and walks away and out of the room, taking Tommy's new center of gravity with them.

[geekfan67]

I took it both ways; that Buck was trying to not make about himself & think Tommy has a right to be hurt/mad at Buck.

Both are good observations

“I’m doing this for Chimney.”

“Yeah… that’s fair.”

Do you think Buck’s mind went straight to oh wow… Chims dying and I’m making it about me again … thinking that Tommy is probably thinking that he is so self centered and selfish…

Only for Tommy to add “…and for you.” and make it about him too… instead of putting him down for doing it?

[geekfan67]

And Falling Apart is The Only Way

Gen | BuckTommy | Spec/ MCD Aftermath | Good Friend Eddie Diaz

It's the night of the funeral that Eddie calls Tommy, and Tommy picks up because he walked away from them all after the ceremony and he figured someone would call eventually.

"Hey, Eddie," Tommy says, quiet in his house by himself, TV muted and playing a recap of the last A's game.

Immediately, Tommy clocks the grief and frustration in Eddie's voice. He tenses.

"Tommy," Eddie begins, blowing out a breath before continuing, "I need you to come to my--Buck's house."

Tommy's shoulders go rigid and his throat goes tight, worry coiling deep in his chest.

"What happ--"

"Nothing. He's fine." Eddie bites out, nearly a growl, "he's just God damn fine."

Tommy feels his eyebrows draw together and slumps back into his couch cushions. "Eddie, I don't think he wants to see me right now, I--"

"Yeah, to be honest, I'm kind of counting on that."

Tommy feels anger flare up, but he tries to shut it down first, just like he has been this past week; having to stand next to Gerard at the service, having to listen to Athena's mother make a tasteless comment when she thought no one could see her, having to get dressed down and get handed his suspension three days ago. He takes a deep breath, knowing it's audible to Eddie, before responding.

"Look, Eddie," Tommy says, careful and measured, "I don't know what you're trying to say here, but I don't think now is the time for Evan and I to talk. He has a lot going on, obviously. Before he called me for the helicopter ride, we didn't exactly leave things on good terms--"

"Yeah, asshole, I know what you said to him." Eddie says, sharp and hissing, "I know what he said to you. I also know that he called you and you came running, not just for Chim."

"Alright--" Tommy starts, feeling heat and rage building up his spine, but Eddie cuts him off again.

"I also know that you are the only person he has let himself break down in front of. That night, after...after Bobby died," Eddie's voice breaks here, "I know you picked him up and brought him home and I can't repay you for it. I have to ask you to do it again."

Tommy sits, struck silent by the sudden desperation that cracks through Eddie's voice.

"And," Eddie starts again, "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be a dick, not tonight of all nights. But Buck is numb right now, he's acting like he's fine, he won't stop moving and doing things, and helping. I know he thinks he's doing the right thing but I have to go back to Texas tomorrow and I'm afraid that this is going to kill him too."

"Eddie..." Tommy practically whispers, feeling like his strings have been cut. He's eying his keys and wallet where they sit by the door.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I have to ask you to come over. I'm his best friend but I've been a pretty shitty one and I just can't get him to break out of this--this mask he has on. Please, Tommy. Please come over. Karen said I can crash on their couch tonight, and I'll come back on the morning."

"What if--what if I make it worse?" Tommy asks, suddenly scared. He's getting up though, headed for his shoes because as he's come to find out he has a really hard time staying away from Evan Buckley.

"I don't think there is worse, Tommy. I think there is Buck, shouldering this until he breaks down. I can't let him go back to work like this. I can't leave California thinking he's going to act risky on a rescue and get himself--"

Eddie can't finish, and Tommy gets it. He knows, on a micro level, what it's like to lose Evan Buckley. He knows what it would do to him, to everyone, for it to happen completely.

Tommy's got his boots on and his wallet in his pocket and his keys in his hands and he's doing this.

"Okay," he says, itching to just go already. "Okay, Eddie, I'm coming. I'll be there in twenty."

Eddie breathes, and Tommy hears the slightest sniffle. "Thank you, Tommy--" he starts, before Tommy suddenly hears Evan's voice calling in the background, "Eddie? Who are you talking to?"

"Just Chris," Eddie says back, and Tommy winces. The call hangs up, but Tommy doesn't let it deter him. He walks out of his front door.

The drive passes in a blur, and suddenly he's at Buck's house, and Eddie meets him at the door.

"Thank you. I'm sorry." Is all Eddie says before he smoothly slips out the door with a bag over his shoulder and heads right for Evan's truck. The door closes behind him and Tommy stares into the house, can hear Evan moving around in the kitchen.

"Eddie?" Evan's voice calls, and he rounds the corner in an apron, drying his hands on a towel, but stops short when he sees Tommy. "Tommy. What--where's--"

"Eddie went to Hen and Karen's. He called me."

Tommy sees the flip, sees what must be scaring Eddie so badly. Evan's jaw sets, his shoulders pull back, his eyes harden.

"Well," he says coolly, "I'm fine. If he needed time away from me he could have just--"

"That's not why," Tommy says, keeping his hands at his waist and his eyes trained on Evan. Tommy knows this isn't like talking someone off the edge, this is going to be fight. "He's worried about you."

Evan scoffs, throws the towel across his shoulder and puts his hands on his hips. "I'm fine, Tommy. I'm sorry you came all this way, I made a coffee cake of you want some--"

"I don't think you are fine, Evan." Tommy says bluntly. Evan's jaw ticks slightly, and Tommy's like a bloodhound with a scent. "I think you're acting fine for everyone else--"

"I know how I feel--"

"I'm not saying you don't. I'm saying you're lying to everyone--"

"I'm not lying!" Evan says, volume rising but still controlled, "I am fi--"

"Stop tell me you're fine," Tommy cuts across him, realizing that this is the most emotion he's seen from Evan since Tommy had held him in the back of the ambulance that followed Chimney and Hen to the hospital, the thought Eddie was right shooting through him.

"I am!" Evan shouts, throwing his hands up. "I'm fine. Bobby said I would be okay and I am. He said the others would need me."

Tommy's heart breaks then, feels a cracking below his ribs, feels sick to his stomach. Evan's eyes have gone glossy and he's blinking quick.

"I'm sorry he said that to you, Evan."

That pulls Evan up short, confusion and upset breaking through his mask. "No, no, it's--" Evan starts, but Tommy's got the thread now. He knows how to unravel this. He takes a step closer, slowly.

"I'm sorry Bobby said that," another step forward, "I don't know if he meant this, Evan."

"Tommy--" Evan says weakly, not moving even as Tommy gets closer, "that's not fair, don't say that. Why are you here? You left, you--"

Tommy knows what Evan's doing, a last ditch effort to slice at Tommy and get him to turn around. Tommy won't, not this time.

"I'm sorry Bobby died, Evan," Tommy says, just a few steps away now, "I'm sorry you think he meant that you had to be strong for everyone and not let anyone know how badly this hurts. That's not what he meant, Evan."

"Stop, please, stop Tommy--" Evan chokes out, taking a stumbling step back as Tommy continues to advance.

"Bobby, like everyone else, always knew that your heart is what makes you, Evan," Tommy says, stopping when he's within grabbing distance, "he would never want you to cut yourself off from it like this. I think he wanted you to be okay not now but later--he wanted you to know that it's going to be good when you're happy again, some day."

Evan blinks, once, twice, and he can't keep the tears at bay any longer. They slide down his cheeks in thick drops, his breathing grows ragged. He says nothing, just looks at Tommy with a face that's a combination of grief and fear.

"Evan," Tommy says slowly and carefully, looking Evan in the eyes and reaching hand out to grab his arm, "I know Bobby was like a dad to you, and he died. He's dead, and I'm so sorry."

Tommy yanks, and Evan comes to him with no resistance. Tommy grabs him up in his arms and feels it when Evan's legs give out. Tommy drops them slowly to the floor as Evan lets out a heaving sob, and grips him as hard as he can, crushing Evan to his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Evan." Tommy says again over Evan's sobs and wails.

"He--he--" Evan tries to speak but he can't get the words out, Tommy lets him try anyway, "He said he loved--"

Tommy feels the muscles in his arms clench and protest at the way he's gripping Evan, afraid that Evan will fly apart if he lets go.

"How do I do this? How do I do this without him?" Evan gets out in stops and starts, chest heaving against Tommy's, "How could he leave me?"

Tommy just holds him as waves of grief and anger in equal measure seek to wash over him.

Tommy doesn't know how long they stay there on the floor, too long probably for his knees and back, but Evan eventually quiets in his arms. He loosens his grip once and Evan jerks like he's been hit, so Tommy tightens his arms once more.

Evan's breathing finally evens out, his sobs subside, and he pulls his head up to look at Tommy.

"You came," Evan says, red rimmed eyes fighting valiantly to show hope admist all of their tragedy. "After I ignored you for days."

"I can't stay away from you for very long," Tommy says before his brain can catch up with his mouth, "also, Eddie is kind of an asshole when he wants to be, but he cares. He wants to make sure you're taken care of too."

Buck nods, gulping and snaking an arm out of Tommy's hold to wipe at his face.

"I didn't--I thought I was hiding it well. I thought I was doing what Bobby said."

Tommy sighs, not unkindly, and lifts a hand to cradle Evan's jaw.

"I meant what I said. I think...I think Bobby was telling you that losing him was going to hurt you, but one day you'll be okay. It won't hurt any less, but you'll have room for everything else. And...when he said that the others would need you, he meant that you can't follow him. There are so many people in your life that need you."

Evan makes a wounded noise and leans into Tommy's hand, "I wouldn't--"

"That's what was scaring Eddie so much," Tommy says, cutting him off far more gently than earlier, "he was scared to go back to Texas not knowing if you would start taking unnecessary risks on the job."

Evan is quiet, heartbreak in his eyes but no denial. They're both quiet as Evan lets it sink in. Eventually, Tommy sees exhaustion settle onto Evan. His shoulders slump and his mouth is parted on slightly labored breathing.

"Let's get you to bed, huh?" Tommy says, preparing them to stand, "it's been a long day."

Tommy gets to his feet and pulls Evan up with him, turning and leading them to the bedroom. He gently pushes Evan toward his dresser to change and Tommy steps back into the kitchen to turn the lights off and drain the sink where Evan had been hand washing dishes. He fills up a glass of water to bring back with him.

When he returns to the bedroom, Evan is sitting on the edge in a pair of shorts and ragged looking t-shirt. Tommy stands in front of him and speaks gently.

"You should try to sleep, Evan," Tommy hands over the water and is satisfied when Evan automatically drinks half of it. "I can crash on the couch, okay? Eddie said he'll be back in the morning."

Evan nods, but looks far away for a moment. Tommy makes a move to start heading out but is stopped when Evan half rises from the bed and gets a hand on Tommy's wrist.

"Wait. I know--" he says, sounding nervous but determined, "I know we aren't, uh, together right now. But. I lov--"

"Wait," Tommy interrupts him, and Evan looks at him in despair. Tommy gently pushes him back onto the bed and sits next to him. He twists his hand out of Evan's grip and grabs at both of Evan's instead, holds them in his lap. "In the morning, we can talk."

"Bobby died without me saying it to him, Tommy." Tears gather again in Evan's eyes, but his voice is steel, "I'm not going to have anyone else not know."

Tommy nods, and takes a deep breath before speaking.

"Okay," Tommy says, and feels courage strike through him, "I love you, Evan."

Evan's breath hitches, and he looks at Tommy with a trembling mouth.

"I love you too, Tommy."

After everything, it's Evan's small but determined voice in that moment that brings tears to Tommy's eyes. He grabs Evan again and holds him to his chest, sets a kiss on Evan's birthmark and looks at the cieling, overwhelmed.

"Okay," Tommy whispers, feeling for the first time in a week that he's got somewhere to go from here, "Okay, Evan. We're going to be alright."

[geekfan67]

Oh, look, I had to stop writing porn so I could get some 815 feelings out. I got those feelings out the best way I know how: via Tommy Kinard. Here's 1700 words of feelings and sad about how Tommy's dealing (he's not, neither is anyone else, except for maybe Sal?). There's hints of Buck/Tommy because of course there is.

There’s so much leftover food that no one at the 118 will go hungry for weeks. Every single person showed up to the wake with a platter or a dish or a pie tin or something and all the sympathy in the world. Instead of eating, Tommy’s been running after Evan and Athena all day, holding things and handing them tissues and handkerchiefs and water. His shoulder still aches from carrying the casket, he tries to ignore it.

When Sal shows up, his eyes are swollen and red, and all he can do is set down a casserole dish amongst a sea of others, grab Tommy, and cry for a long time. He holds Tommy’s face after, pats it gently with one meaty paw, and kisses him on each cheek. It’s the most aggressively Italian gesture Tommy’s been on the receiving end of since his Nonno passed. It very nearly makes him smile.

“I’m so sorry, Tom,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Tommy nods and squeezes Sal’s arm, unable to actually speak for a moment. When he looks over, Evan is watching the exchange with a blank expression.

“Hey,” Tommy says, looking at Sal. “You want to see his family?”

Sal nods and walks with Tommy, keeping an arm around his shoulder all the way to Athena, May, Harry, Michael, David, and Evan.

“Sarge,” Sal says, letting go of Tommy to grasp Athena’s hands. “I don’t know if you remember—” “Maurice,” she says, a small smile on her face, and he cracks a smile, nodding. “How the hell am I ever gonna forget something like that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, his expression screwing up just the slightest amount as tears roll down his cheeks. “I am so sorry. He was—he was one of the best men I ever knew. I know you’ve probably been hearing it all day, but I just thought it should be said again. He changed my whole life. I’m a captain now—a good one—because of him.”

“Thank you,” she says, sounding like she means it as she’s squeezing his hands. “You know something? That’s the day I met him.”

Sal gives her a wobbly smile. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she says, looking over at Tommy. “Both of you were there to see it. Look at you now. A captain and a chopper thief.”

“Not my actual job title,” Tommy jokes weakly, and she grins for just a brief, beautiful moment. It slices through him like a knife. “Whatever happened to Maurice?”

“Went to a farm in the valley,” she says, shrugging. “Never heard about him after that. That’s usually a good thing in my line of work. Thank you for coming. Really, it—it’s good to remember that day. Didn’t seem so important at the time, but—”

She cuts herself off, and May and Harry’s arms come around her from either side, already well-practiced at comforting her when the tears come again. Her lips press together, her eyes glittering with tears, and all she can do is nod.

“Nah, you could feel it. The second he handed that damn bird over,” Sal says, bringing her hands up to kiss the backs of them before he releases them. “You ever need anything from the 122, you call. Any day, any time, any shift. If I’m not there, tell them Captain Deluca said to give you whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” she says, and he shakes everyone else’s hands with soft murmured condolences.

When he gets to Evan, he pulls him into a hug and slaps his back.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he says before pulling back and giving Evan the same treatment he’d given Tommy, kisses and all. When he steps back, Evan looks a bit surprised.

Evan had seemed to like Sal the few times they’d all hung out, even though he didn’t understand most of his references and clearly thought he was kind of a dick. They’d bonded over being from Pennsylvania and shared recipes like old ladies. They’d never been family, but loss does crazy things for relationships. Tommy hopes it sticks. Sal’s a good guy to have in your corner, and everyone can stand to have more Evan in their lives.

“Same goes for you,” Sal says softly. “The brass tries yanking you and yours around, you come to me. I’ll deal with ‘em.”

“Thanks,” Evan says, his voice a soft rasp. “Sounds kinda like you’ll kill them, though.”

“Eh, depends on the day,” Sal jokes, squeezing the back of his neck and shaking him gently like they’re fucking Scorsese characters. “I’m serious. Get my number from Tommy. Day or night, you call me.”

Evan nods with a tight, watery smile. “Okay.”

Sal finally lets him go and turns to say something to Tommy, but he looks over his shoulder instead. “‘Scuse me.”

He brushes past, and Tommy watches as he approaches Chimney, Maddie, and Jee. Chimney looks surprised for a moment before he yanks Sal into a hug. When he looks back at Evan, Evan’s watching him.

“You want to know something funny?” Evan asks, finally sounding quiet because it’s private and not because he’s barely been able to talk above a whisper all day.

“Hm?” Tommy asks, stepping closer.

“Thought he was competition,” Evan says, nodding toward Sal.

Tommy smiles, just a little. “Nah. He’s basically my brother.”

“Yeah,” Evan says with a pointed raise of his eyebrows. “Exactly.”

It’s something they’ve been avoiding, even though Tommy has used all of his mandatory leave following Evan like a lost puppy and asking how he can help. But it’s pretty effective, as far as points go.

“Ah,” Tommy realizes, and Evan nods, lips pressed together in a thin line. “Do you need anything? Water?”

Evan shakes his head. “Just be here.”

Tommy can do that. He stands next to Evan and nods to every new person that comes up, quietly thanking them for their condolences. He settles back into feeling like a zombie, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with Evan as he does the same.

They’ve had their moments. Evan has cried here and there. He broke every plate in his house one day. Tommy’s nursing a broken toe and a few bruised knuckles from overdoing it with his punching bag the day Evan had found him in a heap on his mats while he stared at the medal hanging in its shadow box on the wall of his garage.

Everything starts to blur, even the people he knows. They’re the last to leave outside the Grant family, laden with dishes of food. Harry and May had crawled onto the bed with Athena after she went and laid down still dressed in her clothes. Tommy had taken her shoes off while Evan settled a glass of water on the nightstand, and they’d told her they’d be back the next day to clean.

“Thanks, boys,” she’d said, sounding brittle for the first time all day. From their places on either side of her, the kids thanked them, and they’d left.

They sit in Tommy’s driveway for a while, since it’s closer to the condo. Eddie and Chris are staying at Evan’s place, and he waits for Evan to text Eddie to not wait up. Then they just sort of stare out the windshield for a long time.

“Okay,” Tommy says eventually, sighing. “Let’s go.”

They heave themselves out, grab everything from the back of the truck cab that they need, and shuffle inside. Tommy watches Evan rearrange the fridge, knowing better than to deter him after getting snapped. He lifts the lid on one of the containers and sees that it’s some kind of cake with chocolate frosting. Mechanically, he cuts a small square and heaps it onto a plate before poking a fork into it.

It’s some kind of Boston creme-adjacent cake. He chews slowly, the sugar turning sickly sweet in his mouth, but he keeps chewing.

“How is it?” Evan asks.

“How’s that cake taste, Tommy?”

The plate falls from his fingers, shattering on the floor, and Tommy’s frozen in his kitchen, his hands raised like he’s still got a plate and fork in his hands. His vision blurs for a long moment, and he thinks he might pass out, but it’s just tears. It’s just more tears for a man who made him feel like he was part of a family for the first time since he was a kid, who’d remembered everything about him when they reconnected years later over a capsized ship, who’d told him out of the blue that he was proud of him for settling into his own skin.

“How’s that cake taste, Tommy?”

The sugar’s turning to glue in his mouth, and he turns and blindly spits into his sink, resting his forearms on the edge and screaming.

Arms go around him, and he tries to fight them for a second, but Evan’s voice is in his ear, drowning out the echo that’s shot through time to wrap around his heart and try its best to strangle it.

Bobby’s dead, Bobby’s dead, Bobby died.

“I ca—” he gasps, feeling like he can’t breathe.

“I know, I know,” Evan says, hauling him up and turning him around until Evan can hug him. “With me.”

Evan’s breaths are big and exaggerated, pressing against Tommy’s sternum from the outside as a guide so he’ll stop trying to gulp in air. When Tommy pushes air through pursed lips and breathes in deep after, he feels like his head’s being squeezed. Then there’s something at his nose—one of the tissues from the packet he’d given Evan for his pocket—and he takes it, blowing his nose and meeting wide, wet eyes.

“You lost him, too,” Evan says, and Tommy shakes his head, his breath hitching.

But it’s not—he’s not. He’s not Bobby’s son. Evan shouldn’t be saying this to him.

“‘Tommy’s good people,’” Evan says, sniffling. “That’s what he said when I told him about us. ‘He’s good for you.’ H-he cared about you, he liked you. You—you lost him, too. And I am so sorry. You’ve been taking care of me so I can take care of everyone else. He s-said I’d be okay. I’m not. I don’t think ‘m ev-ever gonna be okay again.”

Tommy nods, biting on the small piece of skin behind his lip that he’s worried bloody more than once recently. “I know.”

“But this,” he says, gesturing between them. “It helps. You’re helping. You’re good people. And he knew it. Okay?”

He nods again and feels more tears roll down his cheeks and more snot flow from his nose, and he pulls Evan into a hug, exhaling the tension from his shoulders and feeling Evan slump against him. They’re holding each other up. It’s a load-bearing embrace for both of them.

“What happened?” Evan asks, and Tommy bites back a sob.

“The c-cake,” he admits, his voice broken and hitching. “Wh-when I transferred—was just s-something he s-said.”

Evan rubs his back. “You want a salad instead?”

It startles a laugh out of Tommy, and he squeezes Evan, grateful that he can take it, even more grateful when Evan squeezes back with equal intensity.

“Maybe later,” he says, burying his face in his shoulder. “I should get a broom.”

“In a minute,” Evan says, his voice slightly muffled against Tommy’s neck. “I need this.”

Tommy swallows, the knot in his throat easing a little. “Me, too.”

“Okay.”

He sighs. “Okay.”

[geekfan67]

The first of ten 8x15 aftermath character povs, starting with Ravi

.

.

.

“Ravi? Wh-Who’s not okay?”

Ravi covers his face, the tears he was trying to hold at bay springing to his eyes. He’s a professional, he has to be, it’s important.

“Sweetheart?” Karen’s gentle question breaks him completely.

He collapses forward, barely registering her arms coming up around him as a sob rips its way out of his throat.

“B-Bobby,” he cries, burying his face in her soft coat and the hint of jasmine from Karen’s perfume.

He wants his mom, suddenly, desperately. Ravi wants her to wrap him in her arms and rock him like she did when he was young and scared, throwing up after another round of chemo, shaking because his body could never seem to get warm.

He wants to be small. To curl into a ball that his mom will wrap around and shelter from the world.

He wants the worst thing he’s ever seen to be the cancer ravaging his own body and not a fireball consuming an infant or the sight of his friends dying while he is safe and healthy and helpless.

“I’ve got you, it’s okay, shh.” He’s on the pavement, in the parking lot, crumpled next to Karen’s car.

Her speech has the intonation of someone who has been reciting a mantra for a while, a soothing repetition of sound more important than the meaning behind the words.

Ravi shifts slightly, Karen’s hand stutters and resumes its circular path along his back.

“I was going to quit,” he rasps. “Buck tried to talk me out of it and Cap- Cap told me that he was happy I was here, that they wouldn’t have got through it without me. But I didn’t. I couldn’t do anything.” Ravi feels his face crumble again, memories overwhelming him. “Cap had to save me, I ran out of air. I couldn’t get the antidote. I couldn’t stop Chimney’s bleeding or get Hen breathing again. I was useless.”

“Ravi, look at me.” Reluctantly he does. “Bobby was a good man, but he did not tolerate incompetence, and he would never allow it on his team. He knew he-” Karen stops, swallowing hard, brushing a tear off her cheek. “He knew he was dying. If one of Bobby’s last acts in this world was to encourage you to stay with the 118, then that’s where he believed you belong.”

He can’t deny the conviction in her voice and a fresh wave of tears cascade down his face, hope and guilt making a home in his chest where Bobby is supposed to live.

“It’s okay,” she says again, returning to her previous assurance. “Shh, I’ve got you.”

Ravi nods, scrubbing his face. He knows she’s right, Bobby never would have left his team with a weak link. And Ravi won’t let him down.

He thinks back to the phone call he didn’t make and the peace he doesn’t want to disturb. Instead he reaches out, taking Karen’s hand in his own, tangling their fingers together. His other family needs him tonight.

“Let’s go check on Hen,” he says, watery but sure.

Karen smiles, using Ravi to help pull herself up with only minor grumbles and an exceptionally loud pop from her back that makes her level a glare at him, daring Ravi to say anything.

He gives her his most angelic face of innocence, perfected by years of conning doctors and nurses out of extra pudding cups, and smiles his first real smile when she huffs a disbelieving laugh at him, before linking arms.

Ravi steers them toward the makeshift infirmary, Karen moving quicker the closer they get to her wife.

Bobby trusted him with this, with his team, his family. Ravi’s spine straightens and his breath smooths out, calm filling his body. He knows how to do this. He remembers this. He had years of practice with pain and loss.

It was a lesson he learned early and often, death comes for everyone. He didn’t so much win his own fight as delay an inevitable outcome. That was the best anyone could hope for. They lost today, but Bobby was counting on him to get up and keep trying to fend off death for the 118 and for the people they helped tomorrow, and the day after that, and the one after that.

A soldier in military fatigues waves them into Hen’s room, Karen rushes forward into her wife's arms. They cling to each other for several long moments, whispering words that Ravi takes care not to hear.

Eventually, Karen lifts her head, reaching a hand back to Ravi. He takes it, stepping into the small circle of shared grief, meeting Hen’s eyes and seeing his own guilt reflected. He lays his free hand on her leg, completing a circuit.

They’re going to get through this.

[geekfan67]

8x15 coda fic written entirely in tumblr drafts. Feelings and word vomit.

Evan comes up out of the underground lab together with Athena and the sealed body bag labeled biohazard, surrounded by people in hazmat suits, instantly directed into the back of an ambulance, the doors being shut behind them, no sirens as it sets off.

Tommy stands on the sidelines, only having torn away his eyes from the grainy cctv feed once the procession had made it into the elevator. His knees are locked, his arms folded tightly over his chest. Every cell in his body wants to push through the lines of the military guarding their movements from the lab to the ambulance, but the glimpse he gets of Evan and Athena makes him stop, linger, not sure he’d be welcome. Neither of them acknowledge him there, waiting on the periphery, Evan’s hand curled tightly around one handle of the bodyboard the body bag is lying on, his stare far away, unseeing, shoulders squares, body rigid. Athena’s face is a mask. They both disappear into the back of the ambulance and Tommy only realises he’s held his breath when his lungs start to burn and he takes a shuddering breath, eyes stinging again as he watches the silent ambulance drive off.

It takes hours for all of them to get cleared to go to the hospital. Tommy sits with Howie on the other side of the transparent quarantine unit they set up in one of the tents. They don’t really talk, Howie too exhausted from the virus and cure battling it out inside his body, both of them mute in their grief. He takes the empty seat in the ambulance with Howie later, too, Karen going with Hen, Maddie heading to the hospital directly from dispatch.

He lingers with Ravi in the waiting area of the ward where Hen and Howie get set up, receiving a lingering, watery hug from Maddie when she arrives before she hugs Ravi too and then heads towards Howie’s room.

He’s on his second paper cup of tepid vending machine coffee, Ravi’s head heavy against his shoulder where he’d slumped over when the adrenaline crash had finally caught up with him fifteen minutes ago when the elevator opens and Evan steps out. He looks like he’s aged a century, face ashen in the fluorescent ceiling lights, eyes red and swollen. He’s lost the turnouts at some point, his t shirt sweaty where it sticks to his body, his posture still as rigid as he’d been hours ago. His walk is stilted like he consciously needs to make every muscle in his body move to cross the waiting room to where Hen and Howie are, eyes straight ahead, not taking anything else in before he disappears again through the open door into Howie’s room. Tommy waits, watching Evan reappear a few minutes later and then walk into Hen’s room.

Tommy carefully moves Ravi, trying not to wake him who needs all the rest he can get, getting to his feet. And not a minute too early: Evan comes back out of Hen’s room into the hallway, and then just… stops. Stands right there in the hallway like he’s buffering, like he’s one of Tommy’s old VHS tapes that sometimes get stuck, a grainy flickering still image frozen midsentence. He sways slightly, and Tommy reaches out, hand encircling Evan’s elbow to steady him. “Hey, careful.”

“T-tommy?” Evan blinks, his eyes so swollen it looks painful, the skin around them raw from being wiped so often. “What- why are you h-here?” A muscle in his jaw jumps. His voice sounds like gravel, and Tommy is suddenly grateful the video feed from the lab corridor had come without sound.

“For you. For all of you,” Tommy says, watching Evan’s eyes flicker around the waiting room as if he only really recognises where they are for the first time now, lingering shortly on Ravi. Tommy swallows. “For Bobby.” His own voice breaks on the name, and he can see it jolt through Evan too, a haze dropping over his gaze.

“A-athena is still downstairs with- with the body. She’ll call May and Harry soon, I…” Evan reaches up, scrubs his fingers through his hair. “I need to go to the station, someone needs to hand over the shift properly, and H-hen, I think- think she’ll be- I mean, but she can’t right now, so- so someone’s got—“

“Evan, slow down-“ Tommy starts, but Evan jerks his arm free, stumbles back a step or two before he catches himself.

“No!” The word rings loud through the nightly hospital ward, startling Ravi awake behind him. “No, Tommy, I-i n-need to do this,” Evan insists, his face pinched like he’s trying to keep another wave of tears at bay.

“Ok. Ok, ba-“ Tommy catches the petname before it can escape, though he isn’t sure Evan would even have heard, already pushing past Tommy to where Ravi is sitting, having burst into a fresh round of tears at seeing Evan. “Whatever you need.”

+

LA is still entirely dark outside by the time they get into an Uber. Evan had insisted on Ravi coming with them, had nagged him until Ravi had revealed his family’s address for them to take him to. They wait on the curb as Ravi stumbles up to the house and rings the doorbell a couple times, until an older woman in a fluffy robe opens the door. They are too far away to hear the words exchanged but then she draws him into a hug, cradles him against herself before she shoots a concerned, sympathetic look over Ravi’s shoulder at them and ushers him into the house.

Back in the Uber, Evan digs his phone out of his pocket, fires off a short text. Glancing at the screen from across the backseat, Tommy can see it’s for Eddie, the plea to call back as soon as he has a minute, and there’s another stone added to his stomach at the thought of that specific phone call. Evan’s leg is jiggling full of nervous energy but he doesn’t dare reach out, drawing Evan’s attention to it. He can see the cracks all over, but isn’t sure what the fuse will be.

Despite the skeleton crew left behind from A-shift lingering around the firehouse, the 118 feels empty, hushed like a tomb when they arive. Everyone is talking in hushed tones, the news already having made it back. It’s a small mercy, not more people to break the news to. Richards, the B-shift captain is already there, having been called in. She looks tired, deep grooves in her forehead as she’s cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear, eyes fixed on the computer in the captain’s office when they enter. From the little bits of one sided conversation she’s arranging shift plans. She glances at them when they enter, her eyes going wet, motioning for Evan to sit down, though he only shakes his head, propping himself up against the wall instead, like he might never get up again if he allowed the chair to take his weight.

Tommy steps out of the office, taking a moment to orient himself, steady himself as he hears Evan’s voice, steadier now as he talks with purpose to Richards, taking charge again. He takes stock of his own body, the cramp in his hands from keeping them balled into fists. He’s thirsty, and it’s such a mundane feeling, something that should be so irrelevant in the bigger picture, but it gives him something to focus on: if he’s thirsty, Evan is probably too, he doesn’t even know how long Evan has been on shift, when was the last time he drank or ate anything?

Evan always takes protein shakes to the station, stores them upstairs in the fridge - the memory is almost painful, the loud sound of the standmixer in Tommy’s kitchen waking him up on mornings where their shifts hadn’t lined up, Evan sheepishly smiling at him, arguing that he didn’t want to wake Tommy as he’d gotten ready to head out to work, Tommy’s hands settling on Evan’s hips and pressing him into the kitchen counter as they kissed lazily, Tommy still half asleep - so it’s where he goes, up the familiar steps of the mezzanine. He chugs a water bottle first before he grabs a second one for Evan, then draws open the fridge. It’s full of food, some containers with names on them, but there are groceries too, still in their packaging, just waiting to be cooked. Family dinner, Tommy thinks, enough to feed everyone on shift, and it makes his eyes well up again.

There’s the sound of a familiar ring tone and footsteps echoing across the vehicle bay downstairs, Evan’s voice hoarse as he says “Eddie-“, and it’s what spurs Tommy into action again more than the angry beeping of the fridge door being held open for too long he barely registered.

The lockerroom walls are glass so they muffle the sound of the conversation but don’t hide Evan from him as he comes downstairs and looks around. He’s leaning against the lockers, face tipped forewards as he scrubs at it angrily with his hand, his already messy curls only standing up more as he distractedly runs his fingers through them.

“Yes. Y-yeah. Text me as soon as you know, I-i’ll come and, and pick you up. Uh-huh.” He ends the call without saying goodbye, then just stares at the display of his phone unseeingly for a long moment.

Tommy raps his knuckles against the door, watching Evan startle, wet eyes taking too long to focus on him. “Have a sip of this, you’re crashing,” Tommy offers, holding out the water bottle and protein shake.

Evan blinks, shakes his head. “No, I don’t, I don’t need that. Later.” He takes a ragged breath, glancing around the room, taking in where they are. “I should- we should have g-gone by my place first. I-i still have some boxes there. Athena- she’ll want the, the stuff from B- Cap’s locker. Maybe there’s something important she- she’ll need for the p-paperwork.”

“Evan-“

“And I should- should call Maddie and Karen, check on them. They’ll want the kids- maybe Mrs. Lee can bring Jee to Karen’s after- after preschool. They- they could be to-together, that would be good, maybe, I-i don’t know.”

“Evan.”

“Do- do you think Ravi will be ok? I should check on him too, he was so-“

“Evan. Stop.” Tommy sets down the water bottle and protein shake on the bench as he rounds it, reaching out for Evan’s arms. “Ravi is not ok, but he’s with his parents. They’re taking care of him,” Tommy says. He can feel the way Evan is vibrating, muscles thrumming where he’s grasping his arms. “Maddie and Karen have things under control at the hospital and with the kids. If anyone has, it’s those two.” He uses some of his strength to push Evan back against the solid lockers behind him, grounding. “It’ll be a couple hours until Eddie will get here. And it’s Athena’s job as their mum to let May and Harry know, not yours.”

Evan’s teeth are chattering. “B-bobby- he… he said they- they’ll n-need me.”

“They do, and they will.” He squeezes Evan’s arms. “You did so well today, Evan. Handling everything you can do right now.”

“But what if- what if- what if I need so-some…” He gasps, and Tommy hadn’t been sure if Evan could physically cry again, cry more, if his body was capable of more tears, but they’re sliding down Evan’s cheeks again now, in the grooves already made. “I need him.” The camera feed from inside the lab had been without sound, but the wounded animal noise that claws itself out of Evan’s chest now gives Tommy a good idea of how Evan’s voice has become so hoarse, makes his own skin crawl and he drags Evan into his arms, clutching him tightly as he falls apart again.

+

The water bottle crinkles in Evan’s hand, blunt fingernails scratching at the label in between sips. They’re sitting on the hard concrete floor, Tommy’s back against the lockers, Evan tucked against his chest, his long legs over Tommy’s lap. The early morning sun is throwing golden beams into the room. Tommy’s ass has gone numb from the hard floor, and getting up later will be a hazzle, but he’s content like this, Evan’s wet face tugged into the crook of his neck, his own fingers carding soothingly through Evan’s hair, content to stay like this as long as Evan needs.

“He- he said you were good people.”

“Hmm?”

“Cap,” Evan clarifies, his voice a low murmur. “Last- last year. When- after we started dating. Here. He- he said that you were good people, that- that you’re good for me.” He chuckles wetly, half a sigh that’s warm and damp through the fabric of Tommy’s flight suit.

It brings new tears to Tommy’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry it turned out I wasn’t.”

“You are. You came back anyway. F-for Howie, and- and for me?”

It’s Tommy’s own words echoed back at him, though the way Evan says them make it sound like a question. Tommy nods, burrowing his face in Evan’s curls, feeling Evan clutch him tighter in return.

[geekfan67]

Anirudh Pisharody as Ravi Panikkar 9-1-1, S08E15 - Lab Rats

[geekfan67]

I'm just gonna sit over here in my corner being a diehard BuckTommy shipper AND thinking Bobby's death was really good television, respectful of the characters, and a good narrative choice for this show.

[geekfan67]

It strange there was no serial arsonist arc in 911

I'd watch Buck investigating it

[geekfan67]

Hello. Me again. My post warning people about bots cloning posts broke containment a bit and my good friend @xofemeraldstars and I have been doing a little investigating.

If you look at this cloned post carefully, you'll notice a teofilo.io link beneath the cloned gif. Read More also leads to the same URL.

I did a URL scan, and the link itself leads to some live streaming website.

Kya and I tested a theory and filtered teofilo.io in our Filtered Post Content settings.

Then, we briefly checked the tags of a few affected fandoms and noticed the cloned posts had been successfully filtered out.

This does NOT solve the problem, but it does make it easier to figure out which posts to ignore and which blogs to block on sight. So I suggest you go to your settings and filter out teofilo.io

I'll be on the lookout for other links and update this post as needed. Feel free to reach out to me if you've seen other links too.

ALSO I don't know if this is connected for sure, but it may be ideal to go to the settings for all of your blog(s), scroll down to visibility, and turn ON prevent third-party sharing for that blog. (This is not a proven theory at all! Just a little preventative measure doesn't hurt)

And until this stops, accounts without icons/blank blogs...you are not off the hook. Please put something on your blog so we know you're real.

Btw this post will probably get filtered out once you filter the link so please don't block me lol