#[EXPLOSION] [when the smoke dissipates i am lying dead on the ground in a family guy pose]

[madaei]

finished watching ghost trick.........

[myemergence]

Unfinished Business

Summary: After Freddie Costas' father dies in jail, he comes looking for revenge against the people that he blames the most; the insurance adjuster, the lawyer, the judge, and unfortunately for Evan Buckley, Bobby Nash.

A/N: HUGE thanks go to the beta for this story, missmarthanightingale for all of the hard work that she put into this - this story would not have become what it is if it wasn't for you!

**

The residents of the greater Los Angeles area had been on edge for days. There was a serial bomber on the loose that was leaving mysterious packages on residents’ doorsteps. When they went to retrieve the package, they had been horrifically surprised with a crippling boom.

The first victim had been Miranda Filson, who was now fighting for her life in the hospital. She had been preparing to go out with her husband when the package arrived. Miranda had been excited, hoping what was in the package would make up for her husband’s lack-luster effort in choosing a restaurant for their anniversary dinner.

The next victim came only a day later, a retired insurance adjustor, Kevin Dean. It had been obvious to Athena that there was some connection. The way in which the packages were being left, as well as the bombs themselves, indicated a distinct pattern; that of a serial bomber who was just getting started.

The most recent victim had been Judge Vernon Clemmons, and he hadn’t survived. She only hoped that they would be able to figure it all out before there were any more victims.

So when Athena received the call that a package had been left on her family’s doorstep, and that her son, Harry, had nearly opened it, she had raced home. She enveloped her ex-husband Michael in a hug, held their children close. She thanked Michael for being there with the kids, worst case scenarios flashing through her mind.

Once the bomb squad had taken care of the package that was left on their porch, Bobby Nash was finally able to make it up the road and to their home. “Hey, I got here as fast as I could, they wouldn’t let me down the street,” he said by way of an apology, as he hurriedly made his way down the steps in their home. “Do they have any idea who’s doing this?”

Athena glanced at Bobby, scouring her brain for any tidbit of information that she may have been missing. “I keep running through it in my head. I was at the scene of the first bombing, but the woman isn’t familiar, not her face or her name. They say she’s a defense lawyer, and we must have crossed paths, but I-I just …” She struggled with the words, trying to dig up some memory of the woman.

“You’ve been doing this for a while. You’re not gonna remember every attorney you’ve ever met,” he told her gently.

“They also showed me a photo of the insurance adjustor. He didn’t look familiar either, the only one that I am sure of is Judge Clemmons.”

Bobby’s forehead creased slightly. “Judge Clemmons? Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Sergeant Grant.” Agent Boyd, who was investigating the case, made his way in through the sliding glass door from the backyard, approaching Bobby and Athena. “Do you remember working an arson case about three years back?” He slipped a small notepad in his pocket, turning his attention back to Athena. “It was a restaurant.”

“Guillermo’s,” Bobby piped in, from where he stood a few steps behind Athena.

Athena glanced between Bobby and Agent Boyd before explaining. “Agent Boyd, this is Captain Nash of the LAFD. We worked that case together.”

“It’s the only time I’ve had to testify since I moved to L.A. The owner was Victor Costas. He got six years. Should still be in prison,” Bobby supplied, shaking his head. He remembered plenty of cases, but this one had really stuck with him. Bobby couldn't forget how distraught Freddie Costas had been to see his father arrested for the arson of the family restaurant.

“Well, released early, on account of he’s dead.” Athena let out a small gasp at Agent Boyd’s words, and he continued. “About three months ago. Cancer.”

“He had a wife and a kid, a teenager. And the son was really angry when his father got arrested,” Bobby offered.

Athena leveled Boyd with a meaningful look. “Father’s dead. I wonder how angry he is now.”

After a few more minutes, Agent Boyd excused himself, telling them that he was heading to the station, where they were bringing in Mrs. Costas for questioning. Without hesitation, Bobby and Athena followed him down there. There wasn’t much they could do at home now anyway, waiting for the house to be cleared.

**

Athena and Bobby stood in silence, watching the interview taking place between Romero and Mrs. Costas. They wondered how much she really knew. The interview had been emotional. It began with her swearing that they had the wrong person, that her Freddie would never do something like this. As the interview progressed however, so did her story. When they discussed the fire, she told Romero that they had been unable to claim anything from the insurance company, and had then been sued by their creditors. Her voice shook with emotion as she explained how they had lost it all; between the LAFD, the insurance company, and everything surrounding the trial, they had been left with nothing.

“We sold everything we had to pay for that lawyer,” she told Detective Romero, “and what did we get? A death sentence. Prison broke my husband,” her voice trembled, “and then it killed him.”

Romero leaned forward, eyes locked on Mrs. Costas as he braced his hands on the chair in front of him. “So Freddie was angry.” He spoke in an even tone. “At the lawyer, at the judge, at the insurance company. Who else is he angry at, Mrs. Costas?”

Before they could hear her answer, Bobby and Athena were distracted by the sound the door opening as Agent Boyd joined them in the room. “Bomb squad just cleared your home, Captain Nash. Nothing there.”

“Well, I guess that’s a relief,” Bobby said.

Athena frowned. “That doesn’t make sense, though. I was there the day his father was arrested. He said you blew up their lives.”

Agent Boyd shrugged. “Well, maybe he’s saving Captain Nash for last. Hasn’t sent the bomb yet.”

As Agent Boyd spoke, discomfort settled low in Bobby’s stomach. His eyes shifted as he thought, before focusing back on Boyd.  “Or, maybe you searched the wrong house.”

**

“Interim Captain Han.” Buck’s jaw clenched in annoyance. He struggled not to roll his eyes, standing shoulder to shoulder with the other firefighters for an inspection. “Is this really necessary? Bobby-”

“Ah, ah.” Chimney spoke slowly, wagging his finger. “Bobby’s not the captain, I am. So you really need to stop questioning my authority.”

“You are seriously so drunk with power, and delusional to boot, Chim.”

Chimney leveled Buck with a glare. “That’s Interim Captain Han, to you.”

Hen shook her head, a laugh escaping her lips. “And if there is any fairness left in this world, Bobby will be back as captain any day now.”

Eddie glanced up from where he stood, shaking his head. “They’re not wrong. You have been insufferable,” he said, taking a seat on one of the benches.

Chimney didn’t have the chance to retort before they heard the alarm bells sound. “Alright, let’s gear up.” The crew made their way down to the trucks, Hen manning the ambulance alone as Chim, Buck and Eddie climbed into the rigs.

They were being called to a reported three car pile-up in downtown Los Angeles, and they  weaved quickly through the streets. “One-eighteen, one-eighteen. We’ve got Bobby Nash on the line. He says it’s important,” a dispatcher called over the radio.

A look of confusion crossed Chimney’s face. “Wait, what? Dispatch? Dispatch please repeat.”

If there was any response from dispatch, Chimney didn’t hear it. In a heartbeat, the sirens echoing through the streets of Los Angeles seemed to go silent. A burst of heat lit up the night, the sound of the sirens replaced by a deafening explosion from the ladder rig. The blast originated at the base of the truck, causing an inferno to billow up from below. The rig tumbled like a toy onto its side, skidding to a halt in an empty intersection, the vibrations from the impact thrumming through the street below.

As the initial fire from the explosion began to dissipate, smoke began to rise from the ground in its place, turning the street hazy.

Hen looked on in horror from beside the ambulance, eyes searching for the other members of the one-eighteen. As she stood there, taking in the scene before her, a dark-haired man came into view, stalking around the back of the overturned fire truck. Over his dark clothing he wore a suicide vest, a detonator clutched in his hand. She was studying the scene so vigilantly that she didn’t even notice Chimney, who was now at her side.

She watched the man move closer, his attention locked on a body that lay on the ground, thrown about ten feet from the ladder rig, barely moving. Buck’s body.

“No, no, no …” she breathed out, instinct carrying her forward.

“Hen,” Chim said firmly, his hand resting on her arm, “no.”

“But-”

“That is a direct order,” he told her. A moment later he stepped away, radio in hand. 

“Dispatch? This is the captain of the one-eighteen, what’s the play? We have people lying in the street, they’re in need of medical attention.”

"Hold your position, one-eighteen." Chimney sighed at the response, dropping his hand to his side.

His eyes scanned the chaos, and he was unable to account for all of the members of his crew.

**

Buck let out a low groan from where he lay on the road, barely able to lift his head after it had bounded off of the pavement. His vision was blurred from the impact, his head pounding incessantly as he struggled to focus on the approaching figure.

An unnerving chuckle escaped from Freddie Costas’ lips. “Oh, you’re new.” The line of his mouth curled up slowly, head tilting as he watched Buck writhe.

“Help,” Buck managed to choke out.

Freddie’s chuckle turned into an outright laugh. “That’s cute. Don’t. Move,” he snarled, before he turned and walked away from Buck, eyes scanning the crowd of LAFD and LAPD personnel that had gathered around the scene. “Where is the captain? Give me the captain!” His voice grew agitated as he yelled out.

Chim sucked in a breath before he stepped away, dodging Hen’s attempt to catch his arm as she hissed his name. Of all of the scenarios he’d imagined when he thought about bossing people around and being captain of the one-eighteen while Bobby was suspended, he’d envisioned nothing like this. He stepped forward, his arms raised above his head.

Walking back to Buck, Freddie watched as he shifted slightly in the street. “I thought I told you not to move!” Freddie kicked Buck in the ribs, hard, venting his frustration.

Chimney skirted the debris scattered on the road, slowly approaching Freddie and Buck. “I’m the captain, okay? Please, I’m the captain of the one-eighteen. Let me help them.” Although there were others injured, Chim’s eyes focused on Buck, who lay unmoving on the pavement. He was located on the side of the overturned truck, enduring the worst of the impact and injuries. “Please,” Chim begged.

Freddie’s eyebrows knit together in rage. “No, no I don’t want you. I want CAPTAIN NASH,” he bellowed.

**

Bobby stood with Athena, about twenty feet behind the line of police cars and flashing lights. They had both been standing there almost from the start of the stand-off, watching in horror. Waiting for Freddie to turn himself in, or for some opportunity to negotiate with him. Due to the unknown nature of the detonation device and the method for triggering the explosives, the LAPD couldn’t even risk sliding him a phone to communicate with.

The moment that Freddie demanded Bobby, his intent became clear. Revenge. Bobby took a steadying breath before leaning towards Athena. “I love you,” he said, hurried but genuine. Athena watched, frozen, as Bobby walked away from the safety of the police cordon and into Freddie’s line of fire.

“Captain Nash! Don’t confront him!” Agent Boyd called out as he walked past the police cars and towards the fire truck.

“He wants me, not Buck.”

“He wants you dead!” Boyd called uselessly after Bobby, who continued his long strides towards the fire truck. Towards Freddie. Towards Buck.

“Let’s give him what he wants.”

“Captain Nash!”

“Shoot me if you have to!” he shouted, casting a single glance over his shoulder, his purposeful steps finally bringing him in front of the fire truck. He watched Buck curl up into himself as Freddie directed several more agonizing kicks to his midsection, causing Buck to shout out in pain.

Bobby bit back a wave of nausea at Buck’s plea for help. “Freddie,” he called, with as much calm as he could feign.  Bobby stood still, with his hands in the air, his eyes fixed on Freddie’s.

“I thought you’d be on the truck.” Freddie turned on his heels as he spoke, until he was face to face with Bobby.

“I’m here now,” Bobby said, lowering his hands as he took a few steps forward. “What’s next?”

“Good question.” Freddie’s voice was tight, and he moved to meet Bobby.

“This is what you wanted,” Bobby reminded him, both of them coming to a stop about ten feet apart. Freddie caught a glimpse of movement near Buck and looked back.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He turned, waving the detonator wildly. “Get away from him, or we all go boom.” Eddie’s breath caught as he glanced at the kid, at the vest he was wearing, and recognized that he clearly had the upper hand.

“Freddie.” The kid’s eyes snapped back to Bobby’s. “You don’t want to hurt them.”

Freddie shrugged carelessly, as though it were an afterthought. “My intention was to kill you. On that truck.”

“I-I get that, Freddie.”

“Since that didn’t work out for me, I think I’ve come up with an alternate plan.” Freddie pressed his lips together, eyeing Bobby speculatively. “You know, in all of my spare time, I’ve been doing a little research, on you and that life of yours. You’re engaged now, which I guess is pretty impressive, considering your past.

“I’ve also found out that you have quite the relationship with some of the members of your firehouse. You consider them family, don’t you? Like children.” Bobby tried to keep his face blank at Freddie’s words, but he didn’t like the direction the conversation seemed to be going. 

“Freddie- forget everyone else. You’ve got me, and that is what you came here for. Revenge against me. What are you waiting for?” he asked.

Bobby didn’t want to die. He was knee deep in wedding plans, enjoying the opportunity to take the time and do it right. He was determined to choose the right venue, the right food, the right vows. He wanted everything to be perfect, for Athena and for him.

It was unfair, that after years of wanting to die it was now that he was faced with Freddie Costas. Years of writing names in a notebook to keep track of how close he was to being able to end his life. It was now, when he had finally found happiness, that Freddie had come looking for his death, only a year after he’d accepted that he was allowed to live.  That he was allowed to have joy in his life, love and friendship and family.

But now here he was, facing death. The only thing that he feared more than dying here, leaving Athena to live her life without him, was watching it happen to Buck instead. Buck, who had done nothing to deserve this.

“You’re right, I am here for revenge against you,” Freddie agreed, “but revenge comes in many forms, Captain Nash.”

“Freddie-” The young man raised his arm, and Bobby was silenced.

“Get him up,” he told Eddie. “We’re going to have a little change of wardrobe.” It took Bobby a moment to realize what he was alluding to. The vest. His heart started beating that much harder in his chest, the very thought sending his brain into overdrive.

“Freddie, wait,” he pleaded, stepping closer to Freddie. Bobby glanced at Buck for a moment, watched him twitch where he lay on the hard pavement, blood leaking out onto the street. “You don’t want to do this. He never did anything to you. He wasn’t even a firefighter when your father burned down that restaurant. He’s got a family- parents, a sister ...”

Freddie smirked, clearly enjoying Bobby's turmoil. “Maybe, but it’s collateral damage,” he explained. “I can’t make you watch me punish your son, since he’s dead already. But there is a guy who works at the firehouse who’s almost a son to you, right Captain Nash?”

“Freddie,” Bobby tried again. “The best way to get revenge on me is to punish me.”

“No, no it’s not.” Freddie laughed. “If you had just been in the damn fire truck none of this would be happening right now,” he scolded. “But that’s not what happened, is it? And, I can tell you from personal experience, the best way to make someone suffer is to hurt the people they love.

“Now my dad, he was a good man. He was desperate, but he did what he had to do to try to provide for his family, to try to find a way out of the mess we were in!” Freddie dragged a hand over the back of his neck roughly. “But you couldn’t just let it be, could you? If there’s one person that is responsible for my dad being dead, it is you!”

Bobby felt the panic rising in him as Freddie stripped the vest from his chest. “You,” he said, through a tight jaw, nodding at Eddie, “put this on him.”

The look on Eddie’s face was stricken. “I-” He shook his head. “No, I won’t do it.”

“That’s too bad,” Freddie murmured, closing the distance between himself and Buck. “I wonder what I should do to him instead.”

Bobby locked eyes with Freddie, and saw nothing but rage there. “Freddie, please-”

The onlookers cringed as Freddie began to unleash his aggression on Buck. The kicks were hard and unrelenting, centered on Buck’s midsection. Buck let out a scream, a sickening crack echoing through the air around him. His breathing was shallow, coming out as desperate gasps as he struggled with the pain. Soon, the agony in his midsection was matched only by the impact of boots to his face, which he was too spent to fend off.

“Please,” Bobby begged.

“Please?” Freddie echoed, with a bitter laugh. “You think the pain gets to stop because you say please? My mom and I, we lost everything because of you.” His eyes snapped up to Bobby’s, then left his face to find Eddie. “Put this on him.”

Eddie didn’t speak, but shook his head. His hazel eyes welled with tears as he looked down at Buck. How could this monster expect him to strap a bomb to his best friend? Eddie’s eyes met Bobby’s, a silent plea for help, for him to somehow fix all of this.

Another round of relentless kicks began, and Buck’s wounded screams could be heard above all of the chatter and noise of the surrounding scene. Freddie ceased kicking and looked down at the battered fireman, a slight tilt to his head as he studied the damage. Buck tried to move, and cried out in agony. His bloodied face lifted slightly from the pavement, vision clouded by floating white spots in his field of view. It took him a long moment, but he finally found the figure that looked most like Eddie. “Eddie, please, just do what he says,” he sputtered, coughing painfully.

Bobby took a few steps closer. “How about you have him put that vest on me?” He suggested. “I’m the one you want to punish. That guy didn’t do anything.”

Freddie glanced between the three firefighters. “You’re reminding me of when my dad used to try to protect me from things that might hurt me,” he told Bobby, a mixture of grief and hatred in his eyes. “He’s not here to do that anymore, though, and pretty soon this guy’s not going to be here for you to protect, either.”

Bobby felt himself growing frantic, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. The sound was so distracting that, just for a moment, he couldn’t hear anything else. Desperate, pleading eyes found Freddie’s, but Freddie seemed devoid of any emotion besides hatred. How was this happening right now, and to Buck? He didn’t deserve this. He was just a kid.

**

“Buck, I-” Eddie cut himself off, at a loss for the right words to say as he crouched beside his friend. The injuries were severe, and Eddie knew that he needed medical attention sooner rather than later. Buck was telling him to put the vest on him, but Eddie felt nearly paralyzed with fear at the idea that Buck wasn’t going to make it out of this alive.

If he didn’t put the vest on Buck, though, Freddie was just going to keep kicking, and Eddie didn’t know how much more of that Buck could take before his body just gave out.

“Do it,” Buck managed, his voice strangled. The pain in his voice caused tears to prick behind Eddie’s eyes, and he swallowed hard to push them down.

“Okay, I-I’ll put it on him.” Eddie struggled to get the words out. His eyes locked on Buck’s face, and it took everything in him to not completely break down. It took everything in him to fight the instinct to clean Buck up and wrap him in his arms, whisper to him that everything was going to be okay. Eddie’s heart hammered against his chest, and he swallowed down the wave of nausea that threatened to overtake him.

He had faced many intense situations in the army; the rig exploding and his present inability to help Buck brought him back to those times. To times when his convoy would be driving along, and he’d see other vehicles taken out by roadside bombs. It all felt too familiar, and the dread that had settled in his stomach seemed unshakeable. In the army it was brutal, but not unexpected. He’d never expected to have to face this here, in Los Angeles, responding to a simple car accident.

And to have it be Buck lying in the street like this made it all the worse; as much as he cared for his friends, he would have found it easier to force his emotions down if Hen or Chim were here instead.

Gingerly, he tried to move Buck into a more upright position, an effort which left Buck gasping unevenly. Buck’s eyes locked on Eddie’s, searching for some kind of comfort. His lips twitched slightly and at first, Eddie couldn’t put his finger on what he was trying to do. When he realised, he shook his head, even with Freddie at their sides with the vest. The son-of-a-bitch was trying to smile, to ease Eddie’s fear.

**

Bobby looked on helplessly, as Freddie stepped closer to the two youngest members of his crew, both of whom Bobby considered family. 

“Freddie-” His eyes scanned their surroundings, searching desperately for something. He caught sight of Athena in the distance, standing just beyond the barrier the LAPD had created. He gave her a small nod, praying this wasn’t going to backfire, and that it wasn’t too late. “Freddie?” Bobby called again, drawing on the calm in Athena’s eyes to keep himself steady as he watched the vest being lowered onto Buck’s torso.

Freddie turned towards Bobby, still clutching the detonator tightly in his hand. “What is it, Captain Nash? Do you have some final words you’d like to share, or are you saving that for his eulogy?”

“I was just wondering if you had any final words for your mother, before she watches you die,” Bobby said, gesturing to where Athena and Romero approached, with Mrs. Costas between them.

“Freddie,” she pleaded as they approached, tears welling in her eyes.

“Mom,” Freddie responded, glancing away from Eddie and Buck, his attention focused entirely on his mother. His mouth hung open as he searched for the words, eyes hypnotized by her stricken face.

In an instant, Bobby’s arms were around Freddie, trying to hold him still as Bobby fought for control of the detonator. “No, no, no!” Freddie screamed as he struggled. Moments later, a SWAT team had moved in, guns aimed at Freddie.

“Don’t move!”

Bobby’s hand gripped Freddie’s tightly in his. “Dead man’s trigger, dead man’s trigger!” he shouted, eyes locked on the man in front of them as he carefully removed the detonator from Freddie’s hand, maintaining the pressure as he moved away. The others quickly moved in on Freddie, cuffing him roughly before pulling him away from the scene.

Bobby turned on his heel, quick strides bringing him to Buck and Eddie. Athena was right behind him, and Bobby heard the faint radio chatter as the one-eighteen was given the all clear to move in and help Buck.

“We’ve got to get this off of him,” Bobby said, eyes flashing. He felt a hand at his shoulder, grounding him. Athena.

“You still with us, Buck?” Chimney called as the rest of the crew quickly moved in to surround their wounded friend.

“Come on, Bobby. Let’s let them work,” Athena’s voice was filled with motherly concern as she watched them work on Buck, carefully removing the vest and placing a cervical collar on him. They moved him onto the backboard, and Athena’s hand found Bobby’s, fingers lacing through his.

“I can’t lose him, Athena.” Bobby’s voice shook even at the thought. He remembered all too clearly what it felt like to lose a child. Buck might not be his son by blood, but he had become Bobby’s family, just as Athena, May and Harry had. Watching him suffer and not being able to help, that was the worst pain of all. It brought him back to the helplessness of the night the fire had killed his family, and he felt that same panic coursing through him now. “I can’t.”

Bobby’s shoulders shuddered, as all the fear that had been rippling through him bubbled to the surface, now that the threat of Freddie’s bomb was gone. Athena lay her hand on his back, moving it in a soothing motion. “Don’t you dare,” she admonished, “don’t you dare give up on him this easily.”

Hen closed the doors to the ambulance, eyes moving to Athena’s with a look of fear, along with something else, a feeling of empathy for Bobby. “We’ll follow the ambulance to the hospital,” Athena said.

**

Eddie rode in the back of the ambulance with Chimney and Buck, trying to keep him conscious as Hen raced through the city streets to the hospital.

“Come on, Buckaroo, keep those eyes open for us,” Chim encouraged, glancing to Eddie for a quick second before focusing back on Buck.

“Hey, so …” Eddie struggled to find the right words to say to keep Buck with them. “So Chris was telling me about this project that they’re doing in school now, for science class, and he’s super excited. It’s about bugs. I swear that kid is so strange sometimes.”

Buck’s eyes found Eddie’s, even that simple effort causing him pain. He looked as though he wanted to say something, and struggled to find his voice beneath the oxygen mask. “He- isn’t-” His words came out in uneven rasps of breath.

“Don’t try to talk,” Eddie soothed, fingers reaching for his hand. “Just keep your eyes open and on me, alright? We’re pulling up to the hospital now. We’re gonna get you all taken care of, so you can tell Christopher a bunch of absolutely ridiculous and useless facts about bugs.” 

That was the last thing that Buck heard before everything went black.

**

Buck awoke in a groggy daze, eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the light. As he glanced around the quiet hospital room, they landed on the man sitting quietly in the chair beside the bed, a book in his hands that he didn’t seem to be reading. “Cap.” His voice was hoarse when he spoke.

“Buck, you’re awake.” Bobby smiled as he rose to his feet, grabbing a styrofoam cup from where it sat on the movable tray beside his bed. “Here, take a sip,” he urged, holding the straw to Buck’s lips as he managed a few small swallows before Bobby removed the cup.

It had only been a day since Freddie had blown up their lives. Bobby hadn’t left the hospital in that time, although he’d been urged to go home and take a shower, with promises that he’d be contacted as soon as there was any change. Bobby already felt like he had failed Buck, there was no way that he wasn’t going to be there for him when he woke up. Bobby’s eyes scanned over Buck’s bruised face, and he struggled to push away a sense of self loathing. “I’m so sorry, kid.”

A look of confusion washed over Buck’s face as he looked at Bobby. “What do you have to be sorry for?” he asked.

“For putting you in that situation, Buck. For putting you in danger,” Bobby stammered.

Buck tried to haul himself more upright in the bed, but grimaced as a sharp pain shot up through his ribcage. His hand moved to cover his midsection. “Bobby, you didn’t put me in danger. That lunatic did,” Buck protested.

“Freddie was after me, not you. And he hurt you because he knows how much you mean to me. So your pain, what he did to you, that’s on me, Buck.”

The younger man shifted in the bed, trying to find some sweet spot that didn’t exist. “What I remember is being in an emergency, and having the ladder rig explode, and then being thrown from it. I remember laying on the ground, helpless,” Buck began. “I remember feeling like I was going to die, right there in the street. The one-eighteen couldn’t get to me, the cops were hanging back because of the bomb.

“Then, out of nowhere, like a guardian angel I see this civilian walking towards me. And then I realize it’s not a civilian, Bobby, it’s you. And even though my body was screaming in pain, I wasn’t afraid of dying. Because you were there. You walked away from safety and into the line of fire, because you were determined to save me. You were there to protect me, and you have never once failed me.”

“Evan,” Bobby dabbed at his tears with his sleeve, clearing his throat before he continued. “Aside from yesterday, there has been one other time in my life where I felt that terrified and helpless. And that was the night of the fire, the night that Marci, Bobby, and Brook died. For a long time after they died, I told myself I would never let anyone get that close to me again … but then it happened. Because I let you in, Buck. And you are like a son to me. I don’t know what I would have done if-” Bobby let out a shallow gasp, “-if I lost you, like I lost them.”

“You didn’t lose me, Bobby,” Buck reminded him, meeting Bobby’s gaze and realizing just how lucky he really was, “and you never will. I promise.” Somehow he had been lucky enough to find Bobby as a father figure, this man who would give everything without hesitation to help him. To save him. Buck didn’t want to even consider how things might have played out if Bobby hadn’t been there to intervene.

“You know, I wasn’t the only one in the line of fire yesterday,” Bobby reminded him, his thoughts going to the other firefighter who had been intimately involved in the nightmare of the day before. If Bobby had been a less observant man, he wouldn’t have seen the flash of emotion that burned in Buck’s eyes. “He’s been really worried about you, kid.”

Buck thought of Eddie’s face, recalling the broken look it had worn yesterday throughout the entire ordeal. “I don’t know what I would have done if the roles had been reversed.”

Bobby hesitated, as though he were struggling with something. “Maybe this near-death experience is a good opportunity to make sure you don’t have any regrets.”

“Cap-”

“You don’t have to explain it to me, Buck.” Bobby paused as he thought about the way that Eddie had looked at Buck the day before, like if he lost him the earth might as well open up and swallow him whole. The same way Bobby felt about a life without Athena. “But, would you have been okay with dying there and never having told him how you feel?”

Buck opened his mouth to speak and then promptly closed it when he realized he didn’t know what to say. Because maybe Bobby was right about this. Or maybe, maybe he was terribly wrong, and bringing those feelings to the surface would irrevocably alter their friendship forever. “I just don’t know if it’s worth the risk,” he admitted.

Bobby tried a different approach. “When you look at me and Athena, do you ever think to yourself how much better off we’d be if we hadn’t admitted our feelings for each other? If we had never taken that risk?”

“What? No, but … Eddie and I, it’s more complicated than that,” Buck stammered, “he’s got Chris, and-”

“And Athena has May and Harry, and we’ve built this amazing family. I think that you’re selling yourself, and Eddie, short. And maybe he’s not ready for anything right now, but having your feelings out in the open for when he is ready, where’s the harm in that?”

Bobby watched the protests on Buck’s tongue dissipate. He smiled down at the man that he considered a son. “You did say that I’ve never failed you before, Buck. And I promise, I’m not going to fail you now.”

At those words, a brilliant smile spread across Buck’s otherwise blemished face. If there was anyone who could help Buck find beauty and love in amongst the fallout of the anger and hatred that had consumed Freddie Costas, Bobby could.

And he did.