#bobby was so close yet so far

[antisocialpyromaniac]

The Fire Fam on Coffee or Tea

Bobby: I like my coffee strong with a sweet after taste.

Hen: My coffee is a little bitter at first but once you become accustomed to it, you realize the underlying flavor is sweet.

Chimney: My coffee order is always has loads of sugar.

Tommy: I am not a coffee person personally. Definitely, prefer a strong and sweet tea.

Buck: Both. Both are good.

Eddie: I don’t like coffee

Fire Fam: 👀👀👀

Eddie: What?

[sickofthistoxicshit]

Dramaclubfox: Can't believe they're back next week!

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash

Chapters 36-37

Had it been like that in the iron coffin?

Aelin gave no indication that the smothering dark bothered her, and had shown no inclination to illuminate their way. Hadn't even summoned an ember.

But the Little Folk, it seemed, had come prepared. And within heartbeats of entering the pitch-black river passage, blue light had kindled on a lantern dangling over the curved prow. Not light, not even magic. But small worms that glowed pale blue, as if they'd each swallowed the heart of a star. They'd been gathered into the lantern, and their soft light rippled over the water-smooth walls. A gentle, soothing light. At least, for her it was so.

Before Aelin had been given an ancient Faerie Queen's crown, her birthright and heritage.

The queen had stashed Mab's crown in one of their packs, as if it were no more than an extra sword belt. She hadn't spoken, and they had not asked her any questions, either.

Instead, she'd spent these past few hours sitting in the back of the boat, studying her unmarked hands, occasionally peering into the black waters beneath them. What she expected to see beyond her own rippling reflection, Elide didn’t want to know.

He'd crawled after Maeve on the beach to save Aelin. And he had found her during her escape-had ensured Aelin made it out. Did it wipe away what he'd done in summoning Maeve in the first place? Even if Maeve had set the trap, even if he hadn't known what Maeve intended for Aelin, did it erase his decision to call for her?

The last time they'd spoken as friends, it had been aboard that ship in the hours before Maeve's armada had arrived. He'd told her they needed to talk, and she'd assumed it was about their future, about them.

But perhaps he'd been about to tell her what he'd done, that he'd been wrong in acting before Aelin's plans played out. Elide stopped twisting the ring.

He'd done it for her. She knew it.

But the queen sitting silently behind them, no trace of that sharp-edged fire to be seen, nor that wicked grin she'd flashed at all who crossed her path ... Two months with a sadist. With two sadists. That had been the cost, and the burden that Aelin and all of them would bear.

That silence, that banked fire was because of him. Not entirely, but in some ways.

The collar had not been real. But the army Maeve had summoned was.

A blink into the gloom was the only indication that he was aware of her every movement. Aelin breathed in his scent, let its strength settle into her a bit deeper.

Their paths would meet again, or they would not. And if he found the final key and then brought it to her, she would pay what the gods demanded. What she owed Terrasen, the world.

Yet if Dorian chose to end it himself, to forge the Lock ... her stomach churned. He had the power. As much as she did, if not more so.

It was meant to be her sacrifice. Her blood shed to save them all. To let him claim it ... She could. She must. With Erawan no doubt unleashing himself on Terrasen, with Maeve's army likely to cause them untold grief, she could let Dorian do this. She trusted him. Even if she might never forgive herself for it. Her debt, it was supposed to have been her debt to pay.

Perhaps the punishment for failing to do so would be having to live with herself.

Having to live with all that had been done to her these months, too.

The blackness of the subterranean river pressed in, wrapped its arms around her and squeezed.

Different from the blackness of the iron box. The darkness she'd found inside herself.

A place she might never escape, not really.

Her power stirred, awakening. Aelin swallowed, refusing to acknowledge it. Heed it.

She wouldn't. Couldn't. Not yet. Until she was ready.

She had seen Rowan's face when she spoke of what his deception with the collar had prompted her to do. Had noted the way her companions looked at her, pity and fear in their eyes. At what had been done to her, what she'd become.

A new body. A foreign, strange body, as if she'd been ripped from one and shoved into another. Different from moving between her forms, somehow. She hadn't tried shifting into her human body yet. Didn't see the point.

Sitting in silence as the boat was pulled through the gloom, she felt the weight of those stares. Their dread. Felt them wondering just how broken she was.

You do not yield.

She knew that had been true—that it had been her mother's voice who had spoken and none other.

So she would not yield to this. What had been done. What remained. For the companions around her, to lift their despair, their fear, she wouldn't yield.

She'd fight for it, claw her way back to it, who she'd been before. Remember to swagger and grin and wink. She'd fight against that lingering stain on her soul, fight to ignore it. Would use this journey into the dark to piece herself back together-just enough to make it convincing.

Even if this fractured darkness now dwelled within her, even if speech was difficult, she would show them what they wished to see.

An unbroken Fire-Bringer. Aelin of the Wildfire.

She would show the world that lie as well. Make them believe it.

Maybe she'd one day believe it, too.

Days of near-silent travel passed.

Three days, if whatever senses Rowan and Gavriel possessed proved true. Perhaps the latter carried a pocket watch. Aelin didn't particularly care.

She used each of those days to consider what had been done, what lay before her.

Sometimes, the roar of her magic drowned out her thoughts. Sometimes it slumbered. She never heeded it.

They sailed through the darkness, the river below so black that they might as well have been drifting through Hellas's realm.

She hadn't asked him why he remained in his wolf's body. No one asked her why she remained in her Fae form, after all.

Rowan straightened, eyes sparking at her question-or at the fact that she'd spoken at all.

He'd kept by her these days, a silent, steady presence. Even when they'd slept, he'd remained a few feet away, still not touching, but just there. Close enough that the pine-and-snow scent of him eased her into slumber.

Silence at the order, even from Rowan. Aelin pointed to the lip of shore by the cave mouth. "Stop the boat," she repeated.

The queen had been reckless before Cairn and Maeve had worked on her for two months, but it seemed she'd had any bit of common sense flayed from her.

"Well, I don’t have any, so forgive me if I remain alert." No, she'd once told him that while magic flowed in the Lochan bloodline, she had none to speak of. He'd never told her that he'd always considered her cleverness to be a mighty magic on its own, regardless of Anneith's whisperings.

"It will take time for her to readjust."

She stared at him with those damning eyes.

He braced his forearms on his knees. "We got her back. She's with us now. What more do you want?" From me, He didn't need to add Elide straightened.

Elide straightened. "I don't want anything." From you.

This was where they'd have it out, then. "How much longer am I supposed to atone?"

"Are you growing bored with it?" He snarled.

She only glared at him. "I hadn't realized you were even atoning."

"I came here, didn't I?"

"For whom, exactly? Rowan? Aelin?"

"For both of them. And for you." There. Let it be laid before them.

"I told you on that beach: I want nothing to do with you."

"So one mistake and I am your eternal enemy?"

"She is my queen, and you summoned Maeve, then told her where the keys were, and you stood there while they did that to her."

"You have no idea what the blood oath can do. None."

"Fenrys broke the oath. He found a way."

"And had Aelin not been there to offer him another, he would have died." He let out a low, joyless laugh. "Perhaps that's what you would have preferred."

She ignored his last comment. "You didn't even try."

"I did," he snarled. "I fought it with everything I had. And it was not enough. If she'd ordered me to slit your throat, I would have. And if I had found a way to break the oath, I would have died, and she might very well have killed you or taken you afterward. On that beach, my only thought was to get Maeve to forget about you, to let you go-"

"I don't care about me! I didn't care about me on that beach!"

"Well, I do."

This was what came of opening that door to a place inside him that no one had ever breached. This mess, this hollowness in his chest that made him keep needing to make things right.

"Resent me all you like," he said, damning the hoarseness of his words. "I'm sure I'll survive."

Hurt flashed in her eyes. "Fine," she said, her voice brittle.

He hated that brittleness more than anything he'd ever encountered. Hated himself for causing it. But he had limits to how low he'd crawl.

He'd said his piece. If she wanted to wash her hands of him forever, then he would find a way to respect that. Live with it.

Somehow.

Gratitude shone in her eyes.

Rowan only gave her a nod. Don't worry about it.

Yet Aelin turned away, shutting off that silent conversation as she surveyed the space.

Time. It would take time for her to heal.

Even if he knew his Fireheart would pretend otherwise.

So, Rowan looked, too. Across the tomb, beyond the sarcophagus and treasure, an archway opened into another chamber. Perhaps another tomb, or an exit passage.

"We don't have time to find a way out,"

Rowan murmured as she strode into the tomb.

"And the caves remain safer than the surface."

"I'm not looking for a way out," she said in that calm, unmoved voice. She stooped, swiping up a fistful of gold coins stamped with forgotten king's face. "We're going to need to fund our travels. And the gods know what else." Rowan arched a brow. Aelin shrugged and shoved the gold into the pocket of her cloak. "Unless the pitiful clinking I heard from your coin purse didn't indicate you were low on funds."

That spark of wry humor, the taunting … She was trying. For his sake, or the others' maybe her own, she was trying.

Rowan gave the Lion a slashing grin. "You heard the lady."

A flash ruptured from where Fenrys had been sniffing at a trunk of jewels, and then a male was standing there. His gray clothes worn, but intactin better shape than the hollowed-out look in his eyes.

Aelin paused her looting.

Fenrys's throat bobbed, as if trying to remember speech. Then he said hoarsely, "We needed more pockets." He patted his own for emphasis.

Aelin's lips curved in a hint of a smile. She blinked at Fenrys—three times.

Fenrys blinked once in answer.

A code. They'd made up some silent code to communicate when he'd been ordered to remain in his wolf form.

Aelin's smile remained, just barely, as she walked to the golden-haired male, his bronze skin ashen. She opened her arms in silent offer.

To let him decide if he wished for contact. If he could endure it.

Just as Rowan would let her decide if she wished to touch him.

A small sigh broke from Fenrys before he folded Aelin into his arms, a shudder rippling through him. Rowan couldn't see her face, perhaps didn't need to, as her hands gripped Fenrys's jacket, so tightly they were white-knuckled.

A good sign—a small miracle, that either of them wished, could be touched. Rowan reminded himself of it, even while some intrinsic, male part of him tensed at the contact.

A territorial Fae bastard, she'd once called him. He'd do his best not to live up to that title.

"Thank you," Aelin said, her voice small in a way that made Rowan's chest crack further.

Fenrys didn't answer, but from the anguish on his face, Rowan knew no thanks were in order.

They pulled away, and Fenrys cupped her cheek. "When you are ready, we can talk."

About what they'd endured. To unravel all that had happened.

Aelin nodded, blowing out a breath. "Likewise."

She resumed shoving gold into her pockets, but glanced back to Fenrys, his face drawn. "I gave you the blood oath to save your life," she said. "But if you do not want it, Fenrys, I ... we can find some way to free you—"

"I want it," Fenrys said, no trace of his usual swaggering humor. He glanced to Rowan, and bowed his head. "It is my honor to serve this court. And serve you," he added to Aelin.

She waved a hand in dismissal, though Rowan didn't fail to note the sheen in her eyes as she stooped to gather more gold. Giving her a moment, he strode to Fenrys and clasped his shoulder. "It's good to have you back." He added, stumbling a bit on the word, "Brother." For that's what they would be. Had never been before, but what Fenrys had done for Aelin .. Yes, brother was what Rowan would call him. Even if Fenrys's own—

Fenrys's dark eyes flickered. "She killed Connall. Made him stab himself in the heart." A pearl-and-ruby necklace scattered from Gavriel's fingers.

The temperature in the tomb spiked, but there was no flash of flame, no swirl of embers.

As if Aelin's magic had surged, only to be leashed again.

Yet Aelin continued shoving gold and jewels into her pockets.

She'd witnessed it, too. That slaughter.

But it was Gavriel, approaching on silent feet even with the jewels and gold on the floor, who clasped Fenrys's other shoulder. "We will make sure that debt is paid before the end." The Lion had never uttered such words not toward their former queen. But fury burned in Gavriel's tawny gaze. Sorrow and fury.

Fenrys took a steadying breath and stepped away, the loss on his face mingling with something Rowan couldn't place. But now wasn't the time to ask, to pry.

Aelin continued picking her way amongst the treasure, however. She'd been more selective than the rest of them, examining pieces with what Rowan had assumed was a jeweler's eye. The gods knew she'd owned enough finery to tell what would fetch the highest price at market.

"We should go," he said. His own pockets were near to bursting, his every step weighed down.

She rose from a rusted metal chest she'd been riffling through.

Rowan remained still as she approached, something clenched in her palm. It was only when she stopped close enough for him to touch her that she unfurled her fingers.

Two golden rings lay there.

"I don't know the Fae customs," she said.

The thicker ring held an elegantly cut ruby within the band itself, while the smaller one bore a sparkling rectangular emerald mounted atop, the stone as large as her fingernail. "But when humans wed, rings are exchanged." Her fingers trembled-just slightly. Too many unspoken words lay between them. Yet now was not the time for that conversation, for that healing.

Not when they had to be on their way as swiftly as possible, and this offer she'd made him, this proof that she still wanted what lay between them, the vows they'd sworn ...

"I assume the sparkly emerald is for me," Rowan said with a half smile.

She huffed a laugh. The soft, whispered sound was as precious as the rings she'd found for them in this hoard. She took his hand, and he tried not to shudder in relief, tried not to fall to his knees as she slid the ruby ring onto his finger. It fit him perfectly, the ring no doubt forged for the king lying in this barrow.

Silently, Rowan grasped her own hand and eased on the emerald ring. "To whatever end," he whispered.

Silver lined her eyes. "To whatever end." A reminder-and a vow, more sacred than the wedding oaths they'd sworn on that ship.

To walk this path together, back from the darkness of the iron coffin. To face what waited in Terrasen, ancient promises to the gods be damned.

He ran his thumb over the back of her hand.

"I'll make the tattoo again." She swallowed, but nodded. "And," he added, "I'd like to add another. To me—and to you."

Her brows flicked up, but he squeezed her hand. You'll have to wait and see, Princess.

Another hint of a smile. She didn't balk from the silent words this time. Typical.

He opened his mouth to voice the question he'd been dying to ask for days now. May I kiss you? But she pulled her hand from his.

Admiring the wedding band sparkling on her finger, her mouth tightened as she turned over her palm. "I'll need to retrain."

Not a single callus marked her hands.

Aelin frowned at her too-thin body. "And pack on some muscle again." A slight quiver graced her words, but she curled her hands into fists at her sides and smirked at her clothes—the Mistward clothes. "It'll be just like old times."

Trying. She was dredging up that swagger and trying. So he would, too. Until she didn't need to any more.

Rowan gave her a crooked grin. "Just like old times," he said, following her out of the barrow and back toward the ebony river, "but with far less sleep."

He could have sworn the passageway heated. But Aelin kept going.

Later. That conversation, this unfinished business between them, would come later.

[blue-ink-pearls]

So, I know people are really desperate for Sandra Lynn to have hooked up with Pamela Dawn instead of Bobby Dawn, and I completely understand that!* Bobby Dawn is slimy and awful and we don't know much about Pamela, so maybe she's better? But it is 100% Bobby Dawn for two very clear reasons:

Sklonda literally said it was him

Bobby Dawn has always been a predator

The first thing we learn about Sandra Lynn's affair during Spring Break Sophomore Year was that she had just left Aguefort (she dropped out her senior year and got a diploma later on) and she was very young. She was asked to join an established adventuring party of people who were older than her and that had lost one of its members. She fell in love with another member of the party that was already in a relationship, they had an affair, and then when the affair was discovered, Sandra Lynn was blamed, kicked out of the party, and her name was smeared as far and wide as possible by the person who had taken advantage of her so that person could absolve themselves, likely in the eyes of their partner and the party.

So what we can immediately deduce from this is that Sandra Lynn was an outsider to her new adventuring party, likely looked down on as "just a kid", maybe disdained for being a dropout, and most definitely resented for taking the place of the (presumably) dead party member. She was in actively dangerous and stressful situations while questing with the party and she probably had little support from the group during that time.

Sandra Lynn was very very vulnerable.

When he met Sandra Lynn, Bobby Dawn would have been about 20 years younger than he is now, likely in his late 30s/early 40s.** Probably still handsome, still a "dashing" active adventurer. He was married to Pamela already (not just in an established relationship), since he had a child by then that was close to grown and I don't think the Church of Sol would be very happy about a child out of wedlock. He would have been a cleric of Sol and probably still preaching "the good word of Sol" but it likely wouldn't have been constant. You can't give sermons while fighting monsters. I'm sure he even saved Sandra Lynn's life a few times!

The thing about Bobby Dawn being a televangelist now, but not then, is that when he was young, he was probably just as good at persuasion, at finding vulnerable people and exploiting their weaknesses to get what he wanted, and yet he hadn't made a name for himself as a televangelist, so people wouldn't know to be wary of him trying to convert or manipulate them.

The scene between Bobby and Kristen, when Kristen is pretending that Cassandra died shows exactly what kind of terrible person Bobby really is. He is happy to find Kristen devastated, that she is having "a real dark night of the soul" and needs guidance. He refuses to help Kristen stay at Aguefort (something that's within his power), despite knowing how beneficial that would be to her well-being, because that goes against his own goals. He is smug and condescending and cruel. He is preying on Kristen's devastation and vulnerability (not knowing it's an act), to draw her back into the fold of the Church of Helio/Sol.

The person who did that to Kristen, is the exact same person who took advantage of Sandra Lynn when she was still basically a kid, just out of high school. He took advantage of her feelings for him, her inexperience and isolation. And then, when they were discovered, he threw her away and made her the villain so he could get away with it.

He ruined Sandra Lynn's life. Yes, she's happy now with her daughter, her partner, and the beautiful home they've made at Mordred Manor with Adaine, Kristen, Lydia, Ragh, Tracker, Zayn, Aelwyn, Boggy, and 15 cats. But Sandra Lynn ended up with self-esteem and relationship issues that she is still dealing with to this day. Those issues ruined her marriage, could have ruined her relationship with Jawbone, and likely played a hand in the difficulties between her and Fig in Freshman Year, as Sandra Lynn saw her daughter take her first steps into the world of adventuring.

Because Sandra Lynn first wanted to be an adventurer and Bobby Dawn took that away from her, just like he tried to do to Kristen.

Bobby Dawn has shaped his career as a high priest of Sol and as a televangelist by portraying himself as the epitome of righteousness. He is rotten to the core, a predator in a job where he is meant to help people, and I CANNOT WAIT to see the Bad Kids take him down.

*I don't really understand it. Pamela Dawn is likely just as bad as Bobby. She's the chief paladin of the church of Sol, her husband is a televangelist and a High Priest of Sol, and she would have been around the same age as Bobby and having an affair with a vulnerable young girl who she then kicked out of the group and slandered. It being Pamela would still be awful!

**Even with the assumption that both Bobby Dawn and his child had their kids at a young age, the math still has to take into account that Sandra Lynn's daughter is the same age as Bobby Dawn's GRANDSON.

[timeshareindestin]

fun fact: eddie has worn white or off white a few times in s8 so far. his color palette is this:

the darker his shirt is, the more he’s hiding himself. the lighter it is, the more he’s being true to himself. the shirt in 808 will be the first time he wears bright white.

when eddie wears dark colors, he’s hiding his feelings, wearing a mask, whether it’s about chris or buck or himself. at work, he’s trying to turn that part of himself off even if he fails. he’s not going to let people see how he feels because these moments aren’t about him. they’re about chris, buck, hen and karen, or the patients he’s caring for.

when he’s wearing light/off white colors, it’s when he’s uncovering parts of himself or sharing his feelings with someone. he’s revealing a little piece of his identity and emotions/mental state. the lighter the shirt is, the more of himself he’s giving away. the talk with bobby is the first time he’s said out loud how he feels about chris being gone. the scene with the cheerleader’s dad was a place of projection. the dancing scene is the first time he’s experienced authenticity in years. maybe ever.

that’s why the confessions scene is so interesting. he’s wearing a white inner layer, he’s sharing the parts of himself close to his chest, but he’s still got a wall up in the church. he’s hiding Something that he wants to understand and share, but isn’t ready yet. and maybe nobody will know unless he says it himself.

but all this to say, i think eddie in a stark white shirt is not only alluding to s4 and an nde, but will be the final puzzle of him realizing his feelings towards buck.

[castiels-peopleskills]

okay i have nobody to talk about destiel irl with and i am losing my mind so here goes.

dean’s love is absolutely insane. he was betrayed by the only man (angel) he ever let into his life that was not his blood relatives or father figure. he denied it again and again despite usually being the one between him, sam, and bobby to jump to conclusions. then, after all the events of betrayal and lying and godstiel and the leviathans, he keeps cas’ freaking coat. it was practically cas’ only possession on earth- and dean kept it. he moved it from trunk to trunk when the brothers were in hiding. no matter how much anger drove him and flooded his thoughts, he kept the coat.

fast forward to purgatory (skipping events in s7 tbh cause i did not like it, then again who did?) and he searches for cas for a YEAR. an entire year passed and he never wavered with his mission of finding the angel. despite still having such complex feelings about the recent events, he was still determined to find him. he was legitimately haunted by images of cas after he got out.

all in all, we understood clearly throughout the entire series that cas was driven by love for his humans. but to believe dean was merely driven by duty or debt or anger concerning cas is beyond me. he loved that angel so much. for a man who was driven by anger his entire life and it was all he had known, his love for cas triumphed that to a point where that anger still existed, yet he loved. his love became second nature. i will not believe for a second that dean only did all he did because he thought he owed cas for pulling him out of hell and saving him.

both dean and cas were soldiers. both of them abandoned their positions for a love neither of them could have. they are so tragically close to love and yet so far from it. nothing will ever compare to this freaking cw ship.

[dedeinthewild]

evan buckley x reader, roommates to lovers

“Feast your eyes on the newest star of the 118!”

summary : Halloween at the 118 firehouse gets hilariously spooky when Buck's quirky surprise steals the show...

The locker room at the firehouse had always been a safe haven for the crew, a place where they had grown up together and become a family.

How many times had they found themselves sitting on the benches after a tough call, the smell of smoke still clinging to their noses, their eyes burning as they tried to close them for just a moment? It was also where they often joked around, and where _____, the team’s star paramedic, would bring trays of cookies that Buck inevitably “borrowed.”

“Halloween,” she announced, stepping into the locker room, followed by the firefighter who had left the surprise they’d picked out for decorations by the entrance.

“Don’t say anything,” Eddie warned, knowing that a phrase like “let’s hope for a quiet shift” would jinx them and inevitably turn into their worst day.

“I wasn’t going to,” she replied, shrugging as she dropped her bag on the bench next to her roommate’s.

“Cap isn’t exactly fun when it comes to decorations,” Chimney said, sounding a bit disappointed as he sipped his coffee, the shiny name tag on his chest catching the light.

She looked over at Buck, already knowing that in ten minutes, the decorations they had chosen would turn Bobby’s plans on their head. Buck grinned, shrugging off his uniform shirt and stretching his shoulders, looking far less tired than he should have after a night shift.

“We’ll be The Wizard of Oz characters,” Hen chimed in with a smile, talking about her family, where Mara would be Dorothy and Denny the Tin Man.

The woman smiled, loving how proud and happy Hen sounded as she talked about her kids and Karen.

“Jee is Pluto,” Chim added, making Eddie bow his head slightly. Ever since his son had gone to stay with his grandparents in El Paso, he had felt alone, as if he were losing precious moments with him.

“You don’t have kids yet, so I won’t ask,” Hen teased Buck and the woman as they were changing out of their smoky uniforms into the clothes they had grabbed from home.

“You could always ask about our costumes,” the firefighter quipped, leaning against the locker behind him with a smirk.

“Guys, what’s with the coffin?”

Captain Nash had walked in through the glass door, pointing at the coffin the two had left by the entrance alongside a cart. Buck sprinted out, positioning himself behind the coffin to open it dramatically, excited to show the others what he’d found.

“Okay, everyone!” Buck announced, grabbing everyone’s attention as he wheeled the cart into view.

“Feast your eyes on the newest star of the 118!”

Buck opened the wooden sarcophagus to reveal a fascinating mummy, its head tilted to one side, draped in cobwebs.

“Good Lord, Buck, what is that?” Bobby asked, hands on his hips as he stared at the decoration.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Chim said approvingly, while Buck explained that he had picked it up from an old Hollywood prop warehouse near his apartment.

“Do the pow-pow thing,” the paramedic whispered in his ear, referring to the presentation they had rehearsed in the car on the way back to the station.

“I figured we could give him a cowboy hat and a vest, maybe even a six-shooter,” Buck added, his grin stretching ear to ear. “Pow-pow!” He mimicked firing pistols with his hands.

“It looks...” Hen rested her chin on the woman’s shoulder, tilting her head as if analyzing the mummy.

“Awfully real?” the woman whispered, arms crossed and feet slightly apart, dressed in the base layer of her black costume.

“Like he’s been dead for 200 years,” the experienced paramedic chimed in with a laugh, just as Eddie arrived carrying the last of the skeletons for the decorations.

It was the perfect opportunity to outshine the 126 and establish themselves as the best-decorated station, delighting the kids who would do anything for candy. Most importantly, it was a day to set aside their uniforms and enjoy some fun before their shifts began.

“They’re supposed to be for the kids.”

“God, Buck!” the woman exclaimed, clutching her chest in surprise when she turned around to find him standing right behind her.

“I’m a cowboy. I shouldn’t be scary,” Buck teased, stealing a piece of chocolate from her hand.

“Nice mustache,” she joked, running her fingers over the fake mustache, feeling the synthetic material against her fingertips.

He would let her touch him forever if she wanted.

The way she pressed her lips together, assessing the realism of the mustache, and those eyes—soft and sweet despite the bit of makeup she wore to look spooky—captivated him.

“And what are you supposed to be?”

“I literally told you two hours ago, dummy,” the paramedic teased, holding up the mask in her hand.

“A cowboy and a plague doctor. That’s... kinda nice,” Buck remarked, popping the chocolate into his mouth, unaware she hadn’t yet realized he’d stolen the whole thing. As he walked away, her laughter trailed after him.

“Welcome to the spookiest night of your short, little lives!” Bobby’s voice boomed as he welcomed the kids. “I am your guide, Cap Dracula.”

The team suppressed small chuckles at their captain’s enthusiasm as he grinned at the kids, fake fangs on display. Most of the children were entranced, though a few looked bored, which made her smile as she donned her mask and took her designated position.

The walls shimmered with colored lights cutting through fake fog, and amplified footsteps added to the eerie atmosphere. The air made the hanging skeletons sway, completing an impeccable setup that was sure to secure their win.

“Have a terrifyingly good time!”

As ultraviolet lights revealed Hen dressed as a mad scientist, the kids gasped, their white costumes glowing blue. The woman, already chuckling sinisterly, addressed them in her most haunting voice as they approached her station.

“Step closer, little ones... I see sickness in your eyes. Let me check...”

She examined their hesitant gazes, following them into the maze. “Beware, there are whispers of the dead... they’re calling for you!” she murmured into the ears of the older children, who appreciated the scare without being overwhelmed, while the younger ones eagerly pressed forward into the next section.

At the maze’s end, the team’s newest “member” awaited, holding a giant bowl of candy. Beside it, Buck stood tall, hands resting on his cowboy belt, his hat casting a shadow over his bright blue eyes. He tried a Texan drawl as he encouraged the kids, understandably hesitant about the mummy, to take some candy before heading out to trick-or-treat around the neighborhood.

“He’s creepy,” one little girl whispered, clutching her fairy wings.

“He’s not creepy,” Buck insisted, only to receive a pointed look from the paramedic. “Okay, maybe a little... but he’s harmless,” he conceded, kneeling to her level and offering to move the mummy’s hands so the kids could take candy without fear. His soft smile shone even through the large brown mustache tickling his lip.

But when he grabbed one of the mummy’s arms to move it, it came off in his hand, revealing something disturbingly lifelike.

“Are those worms?” a boy in a giant baseball helmet asked.

The paramedic stepped forward, removing her mask and crouching beside Buck to get a closer look. Her face hovered just past his shoulder.

“I think those are tendons,” she murmured, as if even she doubted her words.

“Oh my god, he’s real.”

The first time, it was as if someone else had said it. The second time was to process the realization. The third and fourth were for convincing themselves that what they held was, in fact, a real arm, complete with ligaments and tissue. The fifth time was purely instinct as Buck stood, tossed the arm to her, and screamed while running away.

“What the hell are you doing?!” the paramedic yelled, clutching the arm as if she too wasn’t entirely sure what it was.

By the time the police hauled the mummy away and the team glared at Buck, who had undeniably spiced up their Halloween, she was leaning against the ambulance, arms crossed, holding Buck’s fake mustache.

“Billy Boils, huh?”

“He was a showstopper, at least,” Buck said with a sheepish grin.

She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder before carefully reapplying the mustache under his nose, pressing the adhesive to his fair skin. Once again, her fingers brushed his cheeks, and he silently wished she’d run her hands through his hair and leave them there for as long as possible.

“Wait, have you washed your hands?” he asked suddenly.

“For what?”

“You literally held Billy’s arm,” Buck replied, horrified, stepping back.

“You’re such an idiot,” she laughed, chasing him with her “tainted” hand raised dramatically, just to see his mock-scared reaction.

The following evening, she was in the locker room with Hen, who seemed visibly shaken by what had happened to her son. Hen had come to talk to the captain but found her colleague sneaking snacks away from the giant firefighter with blue eyes.

“You know they say your hair curls when you’re in love,” Hen teased, leaning against the doorframe, noticing the oversized fire department shirt the woman wore—one she recognized as one of Buck’s old ones.

“Whose hair is curly?” the woman asked curiously.

Hen pulled out a photo from Halloween, taken just before the swarm of kids arrived and the chaos of Buck’s mummy erupted. It showed the woman sitting between Buck and Chim, smiling towards Buck as she held her mask. Her hair, resting on her silk cape, fell in soft curls at the ends, as if someone had gently twisted them.

“Maybe it’s the shampoo. I’ve been using Buck’s for a while now.”

“Is he trying to save on that?”

“I got tired of him using mine,” she laughed.

Hen was serious. She had practically watched those two grow together, despite the paramedic only joining two years ago. From the moment she arrived, she brought a unique energy to the station, seamlessly blending in as if she had always been part of it. Slowly, she had also changed Buck. He’d always been hesitant about relationships after so many failed ones and doubts about how he expressed love. But when it came to her, none of that mattered.

She was the one he’d asked to share his huge loft. She’d chosen the couch they often ended up napping on together, and she was the one who made breakfast for both of them every morning. They knew each other better than anyone else did, and despite spending almost every moment together, they never got bored of one another.

“I like your hair lately,” Buck said, seated in his armchair, watching the morning news with a cozy sweatshirt and a temporary leave for his sprained shoulder.

“Is that sarcastic?” she asked, tidying up the kitchen, organizing what had piled up during the past few hectic weeks.

“Why do you always think I’m being sarcastic with compliments?”

“Because you always sound like it,” she teased, approaching him with the little gift he had left for her on the kitchen counter.

But as she walked around to stand in front of him, the sight that greeted her left her stunned.

“Holy cow,” she whispered, wide-eyed, holding one of his dirty socks between her thumb and index finger.

“What?” he asked, reaching for the sock in her small hand, which seemed frozen in place.

“Are those boils?”

The first time was to convince herself. The second was to comprehend the hilarious coincidence between the mummy’s name and the rash erupting on his face. The third, fourth, and fifth were spent teasing him as her fingers brushed over his skin—despite her reluctance and a fair amount of healthy disgust at the blisters.

“You’re disgusted,” Buck said, smiling, ignoring the boils on his face.

“I’m totally not,” she lied, setting the sock down and abandoning the idea of scolding him for leaving it where she baked the cookies he always stole.

“I can see it in your eyes,” he said, wrinkling his nose.

“Is my hair really that different?” she asked, changing the subject.

“You’re dodging the topic.”

She smiled, locking her gaze with his bright eyes.

“Say it—I’m disgusting.”

“Disgustingly irresistible, yeah.”

Buck, my beloved. This doesn't make sense, not even closely, and I'm not sure that I like it but I dreamt about this kind of fic last night and I had to write it down (it feels so dumb god). There are too few Buck fics! give me some recs pls

[bettystonewell]

TO YOU I BELONG: CHAPTER 1

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean isn't looking for a mate, and the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain't real. He still has free will, and saving you is just another part of the job. Except, monsters aren't the only things you need saving from... 18+ only MDNI

Chapter Word Count: 3.3k words

Chapter Warnings: angst, language, masterbation, references to physical abuse & references to sexual assault/non-con, injuries to reader

A/N: Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support and interest when I posted the Masterlist for this series.

Please double check the warnings there and at the top of each chapter before you read - I can’t stress this enough!

I hope you enjoy the ride! - Beth ❤️

Next Chapter

The thing about mates was, Dean didn’t want one. His knot was satisfied with the occasional one-night stand to warm his bed and the movies he kept on his laptop that warmed his hand, and he, well…he simply didn’t deserve one.

All his life, people had come and gone, whether by choice or other means, and he understood why. He was far too dangerous, a grunt - he’d learnt both time and time again. From his mother, to his father, to Bobby, the list went on. No matter the person, they always got hurt or worse, and he didn’t need that risk. Hell, he didn’t need the responsibility.

So when he encountered you during a hunt, he was, to say the least, surprised.

You were everything he could ever want in a mate, if ever he’d allow himself the pleasure. But it was what you embodied, not who you were. He didn’t know a lick about you, and even if he could get close enough to learn, he wouldn’t, because you belonged to somebody else.

The mark was clear on your scent gland. Then again, so was the soul mark that connected him to you.

His eagle eyes couldn’t miss his initials sitting right there below your clavicle. They appeared the second he’d touched you, making him thankful for all the layers he wore on the job.

He could still see them, and you, in the rearview as he drove away from where he and Sam had dropped you off. Your scent still clung to the back seat, and him, mixing your spiced cinnamon with the leather, gunpowder and motor oil he surrounded himself with.

It was wonderful until it wasn’t. The constant reminder of what he was allowing to slip through his fingers soured his already pissy mood. Yet he didn’t want you. Nope. Nuh-uh.

“You good?” Sam asked from the passenger seat, still stealing his own glances like some unclaimed omega at a bar, pre-heat. It was getting weird, and Dean chose to focus on the road ahead.

“Yeah,” he said, though his hands gripped the leather-bound wheel tighter, turning his knuckles white as the bone beneath them. He was good, and the sooner they left this shithole of a town, the better.

He cranked up the stereo, stopping only when the dash shook to the bass of Metallica’s Enter Sandman. His car, his music, his rules. It was everything he needed right now at that moment. It was all he could do to drown out the tingles and pangs that continued to churn in his gut and make his knot twitch.

The second he’d put Baby in park, he was up, out, and crossing the lot, heading straight for the dive they were staying at.

Sam’s heavy footsteps chased after him, but his were much faster. He swung open the door, marched across the tattered carpet of their twin room, and slammed the bathroom one behind him before Sam had even stepped off the gravel.

The force of the frayed timber hitting the frame unfixed decades-old dust, sending the particles nowhere but down and straight into his nose as he tried deep breathing to calm himself. It wasn’t working. Nothing was.

“Dammit.” He thumped the wall with his fist, only to inhale more crap as Sam’s voice filtered through the cracks, calling out his name. He just wouldn’t drop it.

“I’m fine,” Dean spat. Of course he wasn’t. Sam was right there on the other side when all he wanted was a moment to himself to collect his thoughts, vent his frustrations. Deal with the strain in his pants, fast becoming painful, and…fuck it. His damn instincts were actually worse than Sammy.

He fumbled with his buckle and popped the button. Moisture already pooled at his tip and when he pushed the denim down and reached in to fist himself, his fingers ran straight through the warm sticky mess with a satisfying tug.

He moaned. Cursed inwardly because of it. Sam’s funk still lingered on the other side and he was bound to notice the pleasurable sound and give him shit for it. So Dean held his breath.

"You know I saw it too," Sam said.

“So?” ‘Course he knew. It was right fucking there. The vamps had torn your clothes, leaving little to his imagination. Your neck. Your claim. The edge of your rack.

"So. She's your soulmate. It's normal to…have these feelings."

Feelings? He didn’t have feelings. “She’s nothin’ to me.” His alpha just wanted its knot wet. Just because you were his soulmate didn’t change a thing. He couldn’t have you. Any piece of wanting he had for you was superficial. Pure lust at best.

"Okay. Go have fun with your hand, then. See if I care," Sam said, right on cue.

"Shut up, bitch," Dean whispered.

And, "Jerk," came the usual retort.

He rolled his eyes.

With his palm still holding the weight of himself, he stepped over to the shower and turned the handle as far as it would go. The taps gurgled and air spat from the spouts in the metal head before the hot stream of water burst through.

His brow quirked. He wasn’t the only thing pent up around here.

His boots were the first to go, kicking them off to thud against the tiles. Followed by his socks, pants, boxers and top layers. A heavy jacket, his current favourite flannel and black undershirt to match. All discarded to reveal the thing he’d been dreading to see.

A soul mark. Your initials there, as expected, above his anti-possession tattoo.

He stepped up to the basin and the small rectangular mirror covered in rot and took a closer look. His fingers traced the surrounding skin, still holding a reddish hue.

It didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t unnoticeable either, which meant yours was, too.

Had you felt them yet? Seen them? Touched them? Had your mate?

His heart thumped deep in his chest. If he had a mate and she came home with another alpha’s initials on her body, how would he react, ‘cause he doubted he’d be happy. Angry? Maybe. Calm? Definitely not.

But he couldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t do that to himself. In his mind, you were loved and well taken care of by whoever he was, just as you deserved and he didn’t.

Whatever his name, he wasn’t angry. Whatever his name, it didn’t matter. He hadn’t bothered to find out thirty minutes ago, and he never would. Allowing himself to keep only your image and your scent that lingered on his clothes.

What was wrong with him?

Under the warm pressure, he washed the blood, sweat and dirt from the hunt off his broad frame. A generous amount of Sam’s body wash helped.

He closed his eyes and brought his soap covered fingers back to pump his hardened flesh as visions of your mouth wrapped around it urged him on.

He twisted his wrist and grunted. He’d seen your hands. That unscathed skin and pretty manicured nails would look better than what he was working with. Your tongue, licking his head and shaft just the way he liked it in tandem, more so.

He’d grip his hands through your hair and encourage you to take him deeper. His tip would hit the back of your throat and you’d gag, but damn, it’d be sexy. Sweet like velvet.

Fuck.

Dean braced himself against the tiles and pumped harder. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. His knot was thickening already, and grunts escaped his mouth in time to his long and precise strokes.

His hand would grip your hips over the wall he was using. The way you’d swayed them, mesmerised him, carrying you well. Those legs they were attached to would lift nicely over his shoulders, or squeeze perfectly ‘round his waist. He’d pump into your tight, slick-lined channel either way.

You’d moan for him. In that silky smooth way you’d spoken to him when you’d thanked him for saving you. Your body would exude a comforting warmth, just as it had in his arms when he’d rescued you.

The hunt had been rough on his body, but you’d be gentle - when you wanted to be.

Your hands would explore every inch of him. They’d pinch his nipples with soft fingers, rolling and twisting, pulling when you dared. Those same manicured nails would dig into his skin and leave perfect crescent moon shapes along his back.

His own fingernails dragged down his chest to mimic his mind. Over the tiny nubs they went, moving down to dance around his navel. They teased the taut flesh of his hips and scoured back over his shoulders where he imagined you’d cling to him.

If he could reach his back, he’d trail them down his spine. He’d grab his ass with both hands if it weren’t for one being occupied with drawing out the toe curling sensations on his dick.

Your scent would take over the floral notes in the soap. Dean had experienced nothing like it. He wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by it and you. If he could help it, his favourite flannel would remain as it was, unwashed, but cherished forever.

He’d save it for the next time he allowed his rut. When his balls grew heavy and his skin flamed molten hot.

If only he could sink his knot into you just once. His hand just wasn’t the same. He knew it, and the strokes he made were now shallow and sloppy as he neared his release.

“M’mega,” Dean panted. Ears hopeful to hear you calling him Alpha in return. Just once.

His fingers fumbled over the base he’d push inside you, forcing his knot as deep as it would go. He’d groan, and you’d moan as you clamped down around him, and only when you’d taken your own pleasure would he spill into you. Thick ropes of cum would paint your walls and mix with your slick. Lock you in place. Maybe give him a pup or two.

“Fuck,” he growled, spraying the tiles before him. Pups? No, he didn’t need that, and the remainder of his load thankfully dribbled over his fingers, dripping down to the shower floor below.

It wasn’t how he wanted it to be or how he thought it would be with you, but it was the relief he needed to get him through the thought that he’d be leaving this town, and you, the next day.

When Dean stepped out of the bathroom, he didn’t even look Sam in the eye to start with.

He dumped his clothes on the bed and headed straight for the fridge in the front corner of the room where the six-pack he’d bought that morning still waited for him to take another load off.

He twisted the cap, flinging it at the trash, and took his first swig before slumping into the closest chair opposite Sam. The stale air in the cushion squeaked under his weight and he smirked at the sound. “Sammy. What’d you eat?”

“Great,” Sam muttered over the top of his computer screen. Though his tone was anything but. “You ready to talk?”

“Nope.” Dean was indignant, and he popped the end of the word in finality. He took another swig and kept the lip close to his. If he was drinking, he couldn’t be talking, and that suited him fine.

Out of sight, out of mind? Out of mouth, out of… no wait. That wasn’t quite right either, and he flicked his head and the thought away.

Sam leaned back in his chair and scratched at his long locks. “You’re wearing the same shirt you gave her.”

“Okay, mom.”

Mary was still a sore spot for both of them, but when Sam insisted on talking about this fresh one, he had it coming. Who was he? The clothes police? “She only borrowed it. It’s still clean.” Dean shrugged.

“Smells like her, too.”

And he’d had enough. He clunked the glass bottle on the table and leapt to his feet. The beer would have to wait. He suddenly needed air, and the cheap brew was shit, anyway.

He walked back to the bed and snatched his jacket, flinging it around his shoulders.

A wave of your scent lifted to his nostrils as it settled on his back, and he closed his eyes.

Dammit. It was only cinnamon. Nothing special. A simple spice. So why the hell was it affecting him? Soulmate or no, he didn’t even know you, and he scowled and turned on his heels.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked, but Dean was already on his way out the door.

It slammed in response as he stepped out into the night and looked around.

Now what?

Getting away from Sammy was one thing, but there was nothing to do in this town. He’d checked out the local nightlife the first night they’d arrived, and there was none… but you.

Haha. Nope. He saw what he did there.

This was fucked. He was fucked. No. Wait. He’d jerked you out of his system.

His hands tugged the collar of his jacket up around his neck, then found their way into its pockets. They fumbled over loose change in one and Baby’s keys in the other.

She was waiting for him on the other side of the lot. Her sleek black paint beckoned him to sit behind the wheel, but he turned the other way. He wasn’t one to wallow in self pity, but he would tonight.

He sunk further into his clothes and stomped across the gravel, moving towards the road.

The air was cool and crisp in his lungs. The light from the broken street lamps dim in his eyes and barely enough to show him a way, but it was perfect. Closed shop fronts meant fewer people and fewer people meant less crap to impede your scent on his clothes.

Your scent.

Yeah, okay. He was fucking stupid. Delusional even. Wallowing like this over someone he’d just met? He didn’t know you besides what he’d read on the police report, and that was a fat load of nothing.

A mate, a job, an apartment. Parents interstate.

He wouldn’t have even met you if he and Sam hadn’t taken this case. Wouldn’t have known his soul mate was mated. Wouldn’t have realised he had one. Him. Dean Winchester? With an omega as respectable and normal as you?

Yeah. This was working well. Why not think about what you were doing right now? Imagine you with him, curled up beside him on a nice comfy couch in your cozy apartment? A bed. Your nest? Warm blankets and all that other fluffy crap omegas insisted on buying themselves. The scowl he’d been wearing since Sam had tried talking to him deepened.

He wasn’t right for you, but he was a mate just the same. Your mate. And you deserved one when Dean didn’t want you. When he couldn’t afford to have you in his life. Yet, his mind kept drawing him back in. Teasing him, taunting him, dangling the golden carrot before him. Tempting him to seek you out.

Stupid brain. He should’ve bailed the second he’d dropped you off. Collected the gear and headed straight home for the bunker, but no, he just had to jack off. He’d caved. And now he was wandering around this god forsaken town because he refused to man up and just talk to Sam about it.

He couldn’t turn back, though. Not now. He couldn’t face his baby brother, just like he couldn’t face the truth that continued to dangle just beyond his conscience’s grasp.

So he continued wandering instead because that was helpful. He’d solve everything by scuffing his boots over the gravel, cement, and the odd patch of grass that covered the ground, dragging his bow legs and pride behind him.

His feet directed him left, then right. Everything he passed looked the same.

Buildings merged. Blurred in the darkness. White paint turned grey along with everything else that wasn’t lit by storefronts and their after hours emergency lights. He had no idea where he was besides having Baby’s scent behind him, and more crappy town in front.

But then an apartment block came into view that was familiar, even late at night.

Yes. The street. That car. The park on the other side of it. Fuck. How’d he even manage it? Of all the places he could’ve gone, he’d arrived back where he’d last seen you, only he wasn’t looking at a reflection in the rearview.

And he was no longer alone, either.

Forever the hunter, Dean sniffed the air, scenting the figure he’d spotted on the bench under the tree, and straight away, cinnamon collected in his nose. But so did the metallic tang of blood.

No, no. ‘No fucking way.’ You had a couple of scratches earlier, some bruising maybe, but this was different, and Dean’s fists clenched. Nails dug into the callouses lining his palms. This was fresh and teed with the stench of an alphas knot.

‘M’mega,” his inner alpha rumbled, and dammit, he’d worked so hard to keep the son of a bitch at bay. But just as it would if Sam were injured, or anyone else in their accidental pack, the scent of your blood infuriated him, and he found his feet tumbling underneath towards you.

He raced down the sidewalk. Rushed across the road. His boots pounded over the cement and bitumen with thuds that slapped his ears and jolted his legs.

What the hell were you doing out here? You shouldn’t be out here after what had just happened to you. Most civilians knew nothing of his world and the job he did in it, but you did, and you should know better. Know the dangers of being out here alone at night and…and…crying?

A lump formed in his throat. Why were you crying? Why hadn’t you showered, for that matter? Your clothes were the same ones you’d worn earlier. He noticed that the second he pulled up in front of you.

No jacket, no sweater. Shirt torn and dirt covered, but this wasn’t you. This wasn’t the omega on the police report. She was radiant and confident, even at the rundown factory. Yet now, besides the scent and the outline of your body, you were no longer there.

Why?

“Where’s your mate, omega?” Dean cursed under his breath the second the words left his mouth. His inner alpha could gnaw away at his resolve as much as it liked, but you’d never be his.

“What’re you doing here?” Your sniffle was quick and quiet. You wiped your eyes with your sleeve and looked up.

He didn’t like the tone in your voice, nor the fear that spiked in your scent when he’d mentioned him. “I asked you first,” he said and moved closer to examine your features.

Your eye was bruised and would turn black. Your mouth, barely lit in the shadows, still shimmered with blood from the cut on your bottom lip.

You didn’t have these injuries before, and though he was seething under the skin, he did his best to rein it in. With a shaky hand, he reached for your cheek. Brushed the tear you’d missed away with his thumb, and though he knew the answer, asked, “Who did this to you?”

He clenched his jaw when you shook your head.

“No one. I fell,” you said. Sucked at lying, too, but it wasn’t the time. He needed to get you outta here before your dickbag mate showed his face.

“Do you have pups?” Minus traces of an alphas ball sack, yours was the only scent surrounding you. He hoped its ‘cause you had none.

Your eyes were sullen when you shook your head,l again, and Dean’s heart raced.

For the second time since he’d known you, he lifted you in his arms and brought your tense form to his chest. You were chilled and weary. Not the way his beautiful omega should ever be around him.

His?

Fuck.

Dean was playing a dangerous game, yet his feet moved under him, towards his motel, and further away from the park where somewhere nearby, he knew you lived with the other alpha.

He didn’t want a mate, but he was fine with taking someone else’s.

Consequences be damned.

Next Chapter

We’ll be following Dean’s perspective for some time, but we will get into the readers head eventually, too. It takes two to tango after all 😉 I hope you enjoyed chapter one!

Comments, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated. They help turn my retail working frowns upside down.

Chapter 2: Harbouring - 28/02

“I still don’t know your name.” His boyish chuckle tethered off as your lip curled. “I’m Dean. The, ah, W stands for Winchester.”

He should’ve known yours would suit you. Everything else about you had him enamoured, so why wouldn’t it? It was perfect, swirling through the spaces in his mind and touching his lips with a pleasurable rumble when he repeated it back to you.

“Will you let me clean you up?” When you nodded, he gave you a single one back. “Then we’re gonna need a few things first.”

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[apdreadful]

I’ve decided that from here forward I’m writing Tommy and Buck/Evan as long term canon. In the words of Buck himself “Who cares?!”

I get the feeling that Tommy is difficult to get really angry. Mostly based on his past. And his general roll with the punches attitude thus far. So I don’t foresee a lot of strife or fighting in his future with Buck. Except the first time Tommy experiences the after of that big marshmallow Evan Buckley doing something really dangerous and reckless..again.

And Tommy who never gets angry, who never shouts at Buck, who flew a helicopter into a goddamn hurricane in the middle of the ocean, really loses his shit this time because Buck cannot understand why Tommy is so upset that he dropped into a dangerous situation against orders AGAIN.

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose to keep from shouting “Bobby told you not to go in. He told you not to risk it. That the floors were too unstable”

“There could have been someone left” Buck replies “Someone needed to check. It had to be me”

“Why? Because you’re fucking super human? The great Buck Buckley from the 118 who scoffs at danger, has survived a tsunami, getting trapped beneath a fire truck, throwing a blood clot, and was officially dead for three minutes after getting struck by FUCKING LIGHTNING!”

“How do you know about all of that?”

“That isn’t what matters”

“I think it is” Buck takes a step toward Tommy “Have you been stalking me babe?”

Noticing the mischievous smile Tommy shakes his head “Oh no no no. You are not going to adorable your way out of this”

Bucks shoulders sag and he sighs “I’m ok Tommy. Not even a scratch”

“I can see that” Tommy lets out a deep exhale “I understand the risks of the job. I’m not like your exes who would get all distraught over you removing a cat from a tree. But for fucks sake, you are worse than the EOD guys when I was in Afghanistan with the walking - or in your case running or jumping- right into the worst case scenario with no thought of your own safety” Rubbing his forehead he continues “Evan. You’ve got a savior complex and it’s noble and selfless..”

Buck cuts him off “It’s not a savior complex. I’m not stupid. I understand that sometimes no matter what you do you can’t save them. But sometimes maybe you can, and in those cases, I just make the most sense”

Tommy crosses his arms to keep from strangling him or kissing him stupid again to shut him up “How is that? How does you possibly dying make any sense?”

“They all have people that need them. They all have someone they belong to and..” he trails off with a small shrug

And Tommy hears the words he doesn’t say. He is…expendable. And just like that all of the anger drains out of Tommy to be replaced by a something else. “Evan” he says softly.

“I know” Buck interjects “I know that people love me and they would be sad, especially Maddie. And I don’t want to die. But I don’t want someone who has someone they need, and that needs them, to die either. I couldn’t live with that”

Tommy closes his eyes. This man..How can he be so adorable and selfless, yet so completely stubborn and a pain in the ass about his own safety?

Once he calms his thoughts and finds the words he wants to say, he opens his eyes to see Evan looking at him calmly. Like he expects Tommy to see the sense in what he said.

“Evan. I know we haven’t really put a label on this. On us. But that’s because I don’t want to pressure you. I’m the first man you’ve been with and you’re still figuring out who you are, and I understand that. But let me clarify something for you. I need you to come back to me. Ok?”

Buck blinks “Huh”

“I need you to come back to me” he repeats “Like Bobby needs Athena, and Karen needs Hen, and yes like Maddie needs Chimney.

“And Jee-un. Jee-yun needs her dad”

“Yes, and in that same vein, Christopher needs Eddie” he agrees, trying not to give in to his exasperation. “I need you. I am that person who needs you to come home Evan”

Evan stops whatever he was about to say. Startled awareness creeping into his eyes..Tommy sees a mix of emotions flit across his face. Surprise, joy, fear, everything just races across that expressive face and then Evan sinks onto the barstool at his kitchen island. His hands coming up to cover his face.

Tommy’s stomach clench’s. He pushed too hard, too soon “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I do care and want you to come home but..”

Buck looks up at him “Don’t you dare take that back”

“I’m not taking it back. I just don’t want to push you”

Something else crosses Evans face at that..but he tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. “You aren’t pushing. You aren’t pressuring me. I am in this just as much as you. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say without it sounding lame and emo as shit”

“Did you just hear me? You can say anything to me Evan. Whatever it is”

Buck rolls his bottom lip between his teeth again. “I’ve never questioned why I do this…I mean it’s the whole reason I was born. To save my brother. To save Daniel. That’s what I do, that’s who I am. It’s why I became a firefighter. To be the one who saves people. The 118 is my family. And I would do anything to protect them from harm”

“I’m not asking you to stop. I would never ask that. I just want to remind you that you matter to a lot of people, and you also have someone who is waiting for you”

Bucks voice is thick “I know that. I get that. But…Nobody has ever. I have never belonged to anyone, like that”

In a sense of deja vu Tommy closes the short distance to Buck. Tipping his face up, he kisses him. Not soft and gentle like their first kiss in this kitchen. But bold and deep. Branding Evan with his mouth. Pulling back he says fiercely “You belong to me like that. For as long as you want..you belong to me and I belong to you, like that”

“I will ALWAYS need you to come back to me Evan”

ao3 like per request

[kinardsevan]

the future haunts the memories

maybe, someday, love - part 3 cw: hospitalization, helicopter crash, related injuries; word count: 2203, total wc: 5467 (so i guess we're just gonna keep going here)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Tommy’s gaze on the three men makes it clear that they’re not going to get away with just walking away and leaving him to rest, so after more than enough time to contemplate—and quietly bicker—over who’s going in and what they’re going to say, all three men enter the room. 

Tommy lifts a bandaged hand to the mask on his face and pulls it down, inhaling and exhaling in ragged, noisy breaths. How he and Evan managed to survive a helicopter crash that resulted in multiple severe injuries and smoke inhalation from the inevitable fire that the crash still doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, and yet.

“Where’s Evan?” 

Chimney, Bobby, and Sal all exchange a look, none wanting to speak first. 

“T, you literally just woke up-..” 

“And I want to know where Evan is,” Tommy growls at Sal, wincing at the pain in his throat. He tries to push up on the bed, but Chimney and Sal are both at his sides quickly, pushing him back down lightly by his shoulders. 

“Hey man, you have a chest tube. You can’t just go climbing out of here,” Chimney states. 

Tommy glances up at him, briefly shooting a glare at Sal when the other man moves the oxygen mask back over Tommy’s face. He inhales several breaths before moving it again. 

“Where is Evan, Howie?” 

“Do you remember what happened,” Bobby interjects. 

“I remember being in the helicopter,” Tommy answers. “With Evan.” 

Chimney glances over at Bobby, and they both look over at Sal, who is all but glaring at them to keep their mouths shut. 

“He’s downstairs,” Chimney comments after a few more seconds. “Doctors are watching him like a hawk.” 

“So he’s okay,” Tommy comments, half a question and half a statement. He exhales heavily and closes his eyes. “Good.” 

“Just rest for a while, Tommy,” Sal tells him. “You can see the kid later.” 

Tommy doesn’t answer him, but the rhythmic beeping of the monitors and the steady rise and fall of his chest make it clear that he’s resting. Sal looks back at them and jerks his head toward the door. 

When they’re outside the room once more, he pulls the door shut and moves far enough away that Tommy won’t be able to see them through the window. 

“What the hell, Howard,” Sal growls. Chimney lifts his hands in offense. 

“What? You didn’t want us to tell him the truth, and we had to tell him something,” he argues. “Besides. He can’t get out of that bed right now, so let him believe that things are okay. He’s going to know the truth eventually.” 

Sal still glares at him, but he doesn’t argue further. 

“Tell the rest of them to be careful now that he’s awake,” he states after a few seconds. “If he sees you all over there, he’s going to figure it out.” 

. . . 

They manage to keep it quiet for almost twelve hours. In the end, it isn’t any one of them saying or doing anything. A nurse comes through with the portable x-ray to check in on the progress of the tube in Tommy’s chest. In the process of shuffling in and out, he sees Maddie and Chimney across the ICU, Maddie clearly emotional. 

“W-what’s happening over there,” Tommy stammers at the nurse when she comes back in for the machine. 

She glances over across the hall and then back at him. 

“Rough situation,” she comments. “I’ve seen some of them over here. You know the other guy?” 

Tommy pushes up on the bed, his eyes widening as he tugs the oxygen mask off of his face. “What do you mean do I know him? E-Evan?” 

She looks down at him, and the way panic flashes through her expression and then instantly disappears tells him everything he needs to know. Still, the heart monitor gives him away too as his heartbeat speeds up. 

“Mr. Kinard, I need you to remain calm-..” 

“I need to know what’s going on with him,” he argues, trying to push up off the bed. She tries to get him back down, but while he’s not anywhere near full strength, the past few hours have given him back at least a little of it, because he tries to fight her anyway and get up. 

“Mr. Kinard-..” 

Seconds later, Chimney and Sal rush through the doorway, and he glares at them. 

“Why the fuck would you lie to me about Evan,” he growls. The two men exchange a glance as Tommy huffs through his nose audibly. 

“I can fucking see you out there, Howie,” he continues. “A-and Maddie. He’s over there, isn’t he?” 

“Tommy-..” “T-..” 

“Let me talk to him.” 

They all turn toward the door as Maddie steps into it. Sal looks at her with something akin to a concerned expression because even though he doesn’t know her, he understands the gravity. Chimney, on the other hand, is immediately moving toward her, trying to change her mind. 

“Maddie, it-..” 

“It should be me,” she tells him, her voice wavering. She dares a glance at Tommy before looking back at her husband. “I’m the one who asked him to wake up.” 

Skepticism passes over both men’s faces, but eventually they agree, and they exit the room. The nurse follows closely behind them, insisting that Tommy stay in the bed. Although it’s clear he’s on the fence about that option, he doesn’t argue. 

Maddie moves to the chair beside the bed and Tommy keeps his gaze on her, looking less than pleased, even though the worry in his eyes does nothing to dissipate. 

“He is across the hall,” she confirms to him. “They still have him under sedation because he’s had multiple seizures from a brain bleed that they keep saying will clear up on its own, but it’s not critical enough to do surgery on yet.” 

“B-brain bleed,” Tommy stammers. 

Maddie looks up at him tearfully. “H-he’s alive. But…” She gulps, and he doesn’t need her to finish the sentence. 

“I should’ve taken us into the mountain,” Tommy rasps. 

Maddie glares at him, her eyes widening. 

“No,” she argues, shaking her head. “Th-they said you both would’ve died if you had done that. The trees helped cushion the crash.” She pauses for a moment and lets out a humorless laugh. “However that was supposed to work out.” 

Tommy pushes up as best he can on the side of the bed, leaning towards her. 

“Maddie, if he doesn’t-..” 

“We’re not going there right now,” she tells him, reaching out for his hand on the bed. “He’s going to wake up. He has to.” 

Tommy shakes his head, his eyes burning as she squeezes his hand. He swallows past the knot in his throat. “It should’ve been me.” 

She glares at him again. “Don’t you ever say that. Evan is so in love with you.” 

“And he’s the one fighting for his life right now,” Tommy counters, his own voice tight. “I’m-..” 

“Here by the skin of your teeth,” Maddie counters. “Or did you miss the chest tube, the busted clavicle, six broken ribs? Not to mention all of the stitches and the fact that you’re down a few organs.” 

Tommy doesn’t argue with her. There’s something in her tone—Evan mentioned it a few times in the past, most notably when he’d come down with the flu late in the summer. He’d been determined to keep showing up to work because Gerrard was making everyone miserable and he was concerned he’d get fired, but Maddie had been all over him to take care of himself and get the rest he needed, and while Tommy hadn’t experienced her mothering tone personally, he’d heard it through the phone, and he knew there was no fighting her on the subject. 

“I need to see him,” Tommy states after a few moments. “I…I need-..” 

“i’ll see what I can manage,” Maddie responds after a few moments. 

. . . 

It takes almost twelve more hours, but there are examinations and discussions required, and the removal of Tommy’s chest tube all before he can move from his hospital bed. As it is, the doctors are less than enthused at the idea of him moving from his bed, given that it’s the ICU, but the fact that he’s not leaving the ward does work in his favor. 

When Sal arrives in the room with a wheelchair, Tommy all but clamors out of the bed, shoving away Sal and the nurse’s hands when they try to help him up. Still, once he’s on his feet, he’s required to take their assistance in lieu of falling on his face. 

“Only across the hall,” the nurse warns as she stares down at him with her best stern look. Tommy nods with a weary breath, although he’s not going to let on his own exhaustion just at the little bit of movement. Evan needs him, and he needs to see Evan. 

Sal pushes the chair out of the room after the nurse drapes a blanket over Tommy’s lap and shuffles them across the space, past the nurses station. When they reach Evan’s room, he knocks twice, and a moment later, the door opens to Bobby. He gazes at them both briefly, clearly having his own skepticism at Tommy being out of bed, but after a few seconds, he steps aside. 

“I’m going to get coffee,” he tells them.

Sal pushes the wheelchair right up to the bed, although Tommy’s vision is already blurring by the time they cross the threshold into the room. He aches in at least half a dozen different places on his body, but he needs to be here more than he needs to be in a hospital bed. 

“I think I’ll join the mook for coffee,” Sal tells him before patting gently on his good shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

Tommy nods, reaching up for Evan’s hand on the bed. Once the door has shut behind Sal, he focuses his attention entirely on Evan. 

He’s surrounded by monitors, with leads all over his body and head. He can see the machine tracking Evan’s intracranial pressure, hear the steady rhythm of the ventilator he’s still attached to, and the constant drone of his heartbeat from the ECG. 

“Hi baby,” he rasps, squeezing Evan’s fingers. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I-…” He pauses, his chest shaking with the weight of each breath. “You have to wake up, okay? I need-…we have to say it properly. Not in an argument, n-not in the middle of a flight where I can’t focus on you. You have to wake up s-so you can tell me again properly, and I can say it back.” 

There’s no miracle reaction, no sudden squeeze of his hand. Evan’s eyes don’t flutter, and the heart monitor doesn’t suddenly pick up speed. Even though all of that had been explained to Tommy before he’d even been allowed to make the trip across the hall, it’s gutting to him. 

He lifts Evan’s hand to his mouth and kisses his fingers, forcing deep breaths down as he closes his eyes against the warm tears that run down his face. 

“I love you so much, Evan,” he rasps, his throat tight. “I need to have more than just one utterance of it and six months of…” He pauses and shakes his head. There aren’t words to describe the way he spent th first six months of their relationship, constantly teetering between falling in love and trying not to let himself give in to those feelings so he wouldn’t get hurt. Granted, that didn’t get him very far in the end, anyway. “Of learning each other, I guess. Baby I need years. Decades, even.” 

The heart monitor continues it’s rhythmic drone and he blinks away more tears, holding the back of Evan’s hand to his mouth once more. 

When Sal and Bobby arrive back some ten minutes later, there’s no way for Tommy to hide the exhaustion of obvious pain he’s in, being upright in the wheelchair. His eyes are drooping against the drip of the medication in his IV line. 

“T, we gotta get you back to bed,” Sal tells him when the other man’s head jerks up at the slightest movement of his wheelchair. Tommy grumbles unintelligibly to him, and Sal looks over at Bobby and then back at him. “Your blood pressure is through the roof right now. You can’t lie about being in pain.” 

“Evan,” Tommy rasps back, still holding onto the younger man’s hand. 

“You can come back in a little while,” Sal tells him. 

“We’ll keep you informed of any changes,” Bobby adds. 

Tommy grumbles again, but he’s too tired and weak to fight when Sal keeps moving the chair, eventually being forced to drop Evan’s hand. Three minutes later with the help of several nurses, he’s shuffled back into his hospital bed, and gratefully cheerful to the one who administers more medication to his line as he tries to keep fighting his eyes closing. 

“Love him,” he mutters, his words slurring as his head dips into the curve of his pillow. 

“I know, buddy,” Sal tells him. “We all know.” 

[madlori]

What do you like about the bucktommy relationship? We haven't seen enough of it to know it's good. So far Tommy isn't seeming good for Buck. He didn't dress up for Buck's party and is a downer on Buck's enthusiasm.

I'm tempted to think this a trolling ask because the two things you cite are so trivial they can't possibly be serious objections. But let's pretend it's not.

Let's recap, shall we?

Things Tommy has done for Buck:

Given him a tour of harbor when he asked, offered to give him flying lessons

Be excited and welcoming to see him at basketball

Gone to his loft to talk to him and smooth things over when he thought there'd been a misunderstanding, or that Buck was feeling badly about his and Eddie's friendship.

Bonked him on the metaphorical head and said "um you're queer my dude"

Laid out his own emotional stuff (being jealous of the 118's closeness, his struggles with being closeted)

Come to talk to him after their failed date and told him he was still interested

Agreed to come to his sister's wedding even though he low-key thought it was kinda bonkers

Shown up in the first place for that bachelor party when he was on call

Made sure Buck knew he was only leaving because he had to

Showed up to the hospital after a long day firefighting, without even showering first, because he promised he'd try to be there

Presumably, been a good enough boyfriend that Buck hasn't had to be talked off a ledge (yet) and made Bobby think he was good for him.

Now as to your two objections:

He didn't dress up for the party. Know who else didn't? Literally everyone else. Buck and Eddie were the only two who dressed on theme. Also he WAS ON CALL. By this logic, I'm a terrible friend because I also don't usually dress up for costume parties given by my friends because I don't like it (and this wasn't even a costume party, it was "themed" whatever that means).

A downer on Buck's enthusiasm? I assume you mean at the medal ceremony buffet? Where he was on edge due to the presence of a former captain who made his life hell and who he's probably low-key terrified will say something homophobic to him and his still-pretty-new boyfriend, which he in fact DID? He was pretty supportive of Buck's enthusiasm over the harbor helicopters, being his date to the wedding, and Muay Thai.

What do I like about this relationship? Everything. It's the most giddy and starry-eyed we have EVER seen Buck about a romantic partner. Tommy has shown up for him repeatedly, and prioritized him in a way that Buck is not used to. Buck has needed someone who will treat him as important. In only the short times we've seen of them, Tommy has done that.

[coca-colas-truck-driver]

john didnt know what to do when he saw dean dote on sammy the way mary had done to dean before she’d died. the way dean always held him, brushed tears off sam’s chubby cheeks, insisted on dressing him up even when john would offer to so dean could sleep some more. he’d hoped it was just a childish fascination, something dean would grow bored of; grow out of.

instead it got worse with age, especially when sam learned to talk and walk. his vocabulary almost only consisting of “dee”’s and basic phrases. making grabby hands in whatever direction dean is in every time dean would have to set him down for even a second. it was a damn near miracle john was able to separate them when it came time for school.

sam was never a crier, just a sniffler. he’d spend hours rubbing the snot off his little nose and chin, his face practically bright pink from the emotions he didnt know how to handle while his fists sat balled up in his lap. sam would just wait, far too patient for a two year old, not even bothering to touch his toys. john tried to fill in when he was there, to fill as much of the six year old’s shoes as he could manage. it didnt do much, sam’s mood only worsening as the week went on.

luckily four seemed to be a turning point, the small child no longer a toddler and able to understand the concept of dean not being able to spend every second of every single day with him. john thought it would’ve gotten better after that, that sam would separate himself from dean some.

john hoped that sam going to kindergarten and meeting other kids could possibly help, too, but by the time sam was five, all he wanted was to be dean. every time he saw the kids, it’d look as if they were trying to crawl into each other’s skin. john would get back from a hunt to see them watching cartoons on the couch, dean holding sammy close with his hands shoved under his baby brother’s shirt while sam’s face was nuzzled against the juncture of dean’s neck. it shocked him more than anything he’d ever seen on a hunt before, anything he’d seen in the army. neither asleep, just quietly breathing in what was practically each other’s air in a position that was too close to be just anything. john walked behind the couch, ruffling dean’s hair to ask if they’d eaten yet. dean had made the two of them something already, and john had left them alone again quickly after to go out to a bar. maybe call bobby.

[megalony]

She's Not Here- Part 2

This is the second part in this Evan Buckley mini series, thank you all for the amazing feedback on part one. I had so much fun writing this next part and I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: While Evan is on a long weekend at work, (Y/n) takes their girls out with their family. Things don't go to plan when something happens to one of their daughters.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Buck!" He shrugged off Eddie's touch and bolted from the table, checking his pockets for his phone and his wallet. He needed to find his keys from his locker and leave. He had to get down there and get in that shopping centre. Evan needed to scout round every inch of that building. Every corner, every crevace, every hidden crook and cranny, he needed to look round them all. He needed to watch and search every person who tried to leave and every car needed to be stopped and checked. "Buck what's going on?" "One of my daughters is missing."

"Where's my daughter?" Anger, agony and pure, unrivalled chaos burst to life in Evan's voice.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his shoulders hunched up near his neck and his chest puffed out with a deep breath that made him feel like he was about to combust.

He could feel his phone burning a hole in his back pocket. He had been spammed with messages from Bobby, Maddie, both his parents but nothing from (Y/n). All he wanted was for her to tell him that they found Minnie, hidden away in some corner or wandering off with someone from another station in a similar uniform to his.

Evan would settle for being told Minnie had been taken by a stranger but someone had found her and brought her back to safety.

His phone was locked but there was the most recent picture of Minnie that he had, waiting to be shown to any security guard or police officer who needed it. He was ready to show his picture to everyone he passed and demand they find his little girl.

He could see the officer's eyes raking him up and down, assessing whether or not Evan was actually the dad of the missing girl. But the fury in his eyes gave it away and told him if he refused to let Evan inside that shopping centre, they would have a bigger situation out here.

"Name?" His voice held a small waver as he looked up at Evan who was a good few metres taller than him. They had to be certain.

"Evan Buckley. Where's my daughter, have you found her yet?"

"We haven't located her yet… Seargent, I have Mr Buckley on his way in." He waved for Evan to follow him and headed inside the shopping centre entrance.

Evan followed closely behind, his irritation growing with each passing second. How long had his daughter been missing? Was she alright? Was someone with her? Was Minnie wandering this place- or God forbid, the streets, all alone? No. Someone would have seen her wandering alone, they would have stopped her, questioned her, tried to help her or look after her. No one would let her get far on her own.

Someone had to be with her, whether they were a friend or an enemy. Evan didn't like either option.

"Then where's my wife?"

"Right this way."

As they walked down the wide hall, Evan let his eyes dart around him. Shops were still open. People were still fluttering in and out. But out of the shops, in the middle of the centre, people were confined to the sides. They were told to walk in single file and stay close close to the wall. No one could wander or flutter about the middle of the floor. They needed clear views of every angle to find Minnie.

Security were posted near every shop, not letting people in or out if they had a child.

Evan shuddered when he heard an announcement rattle through the speakers that almost deafened him.

"If anyone sees a little girl, Minnie Buckley, three years old. Wearing a purple flower dress, white tights and red shoes with a Disney headband on, they should stop her and alert security immediately."

That gave Evan some sort of hint, at least now he knew what she was wearing. The last time he saw any of his girls had been Friday morning when he kissed Minnie and Evie goodbye and dropped Lois and Ellie at school. He had spoken to them last night to say goodnight when they went to bed, but he hadn't seen them. He didn't know what they were wearing, what hairstyles they had today or what their plans had been for today.

Evan saw his family before the officer got close to them.

He bypassed the shorter man and started into a run, pelting down the hall until every set of eyes were on him and people started to panic that he was the culpret with Minnie.

There they were. His mother, sat with an arm around Maddie, both of them red-eyed and looking down at the table as if it would somehow give them the answers they wanted. The blushing pink pram he recognised was next to his mother and he figured his youngest girl was swaddled away in there. He prayed she was.

When his eyes set on (Y/n), he could feel his heart breaking all over again. He felt his heart impale itself on his ribs, wanting to bleed out and commit his body to the ground then and there.

She was sat with her forehead propped up on her hand, her arm trembling, her upper body hunched over the table. Tears streaked down her face, trembles set in all across her body sending her shoulders rocking back and forth.

"Daddy!" Ellie, who had been sat with her chair pulled as close to (Y/n)'s as she could, ripped out of her mother's arms and bolted from the table. Even as she heard her mum cry out and hear her aunt gasp in panic, she bolted across the polished floor.

As soon as she bolted, Lois looked up, located Evan and subsequently set off into a run for him too.

Evan crouched down and held his arms out, scooping the pair of them up, one in each arm until they were cocooned into his chest. He smothered his lips against Ellie's temple, then kissed Lois's cheek as he stood up to his full height and lifted the girls up. Their arms circled around his neck and held him so tightly he couldn't breathe, but he didn't want to.

Evan didn't want to blink, breathe, move or eat or scream until Minnie was back. He didn't want to carry on dwindling through the minutes, the hours, the days. He wanted everything to stop until his third daughter was here and safe in his arms.

"I'm here. It's okay, it's okay girls, I'm here." He nuzzled his face into Lois's hair and took a second to breathe deeply and hold them as close as he could. He wanted them encased into his chest, hidden behind his ribs with his heart so he could keep them safe.

He started walking forwards, the girls in his arms, until he reached the table they were all sat at.

Security were posted around them, police officers were filtering in and out of the food court and milling about the place, trying to set up a plan to search and locate Minnie. If she was even still in the centre at all. But at least the food court had been evacuated. Only their family was in here with the officers, somewhere they could sit and wait in agony but with some sense of privacy.

Evan carefully eased Lois down into a chair and set Ellie on her feet next to her and he took the time to kiss their foreheads again and whisper that it was okay. Because he would make sure of it. Evan would do anything within his power to make sure everything turned out okay.

Tears burned in the corners of his eyes and his heart started to falter and skip a few beats when he crouched down in front of (Y/n).

He nudged her knees to the side and crouched between her thighs that caged him in and grounded him to her. His hands feathered up and down her thighs until she looked at him.

A single tear jumped free from the end of her nose and Evan could see the tracks slithered down her face from how badly she had been crying.

Why did he go in this weekend?

When Maddie texted, why didn't he just talk to Bobby and try and get today off? Why didn't he try harder to get off work earlier today so he could be here with them? Minnie might not have wandered- or someone might not have taken her, if Evan had been with them.

"She's s-still not here." (Y/n) brushed her sleeve against her nose and beneath her eyes to try and stop her face from feeling so tight and taut.

But when she looked back down at Evan, she could feel another tidal wave washing over her. She reached her arms out and wrapped them around his neck and slid forward until she almost fell off her chair and onto his lap. She felt him push upwards so they were level and he let her head slump onto his shoulder.

His arm circled around her waist and pulled her tightly into his chest while his right hand moved to cup the back of her neck. He smothered his lips against her temple and brushed her hair back behind her ear.

"We're gonna find her, okay? We're gonna go find her and take all our girls home."

(Y/n) brushed her nose against Evan's neck and tried to take a deep breath, but all she could do was wheeze and croak small, shallow gulps of air. Having him here made a difference, though. She could feel her heartbeat thinning out, it wasn't throbbing in her temple or pulsing beneath her skin anymore. She could close her eyes for a few seconds now, instead of look around and try not to blink in case she missed a potential sight of her baby girl.

She could feel Evan's fingers gliding up and down her back and she stayed tucked up into his chest, pressing her face as close to his neck as she could until she could feel his thundering heartbeat.

He kissed the side of her head and spared a glance over at his mum and sister. This wasn't how he wanted to meet with their mum. He hadn't seen her in over six months. The last thing Evan wanted was to meet under horrific, uncertain circumstances like this. And he hated to see Maddie in such a state of distress.

She was usually the epitomy of calm and collected. She stayed calm all those years she was with Doug. She put on a brave face for Evan, trying not to let him see what was going on and how frightened or hurt or uncertain she felt. When Maddie was at work, she remained calm even when the 118 were involved in collisions or dangerous situations. She powered through and helped them.

Not today. Today, his sister was crying, rocking back and forth and about to have a panic attack because where was her niece? Where was that little toddler who brightened up a room and made everyone smile, no matter what mood they were in? How had someone managed to get away with her? How had she slipped away from them in less than three minutes without someone stopping her or seeing or noticing?

How did something like this happen?

"Buck. (Y/n)."

Evan lifted his head and he felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest when he looked across the food court and saw his mother in law. Athena. Just the person they needed in a crisis like this to help them through it and find their little girl.

"Here we go, baby. We'll find her now, hm?" Evan's hands moved to cup (Y/n)'s face and he gently lifted her head from his shoulder so he could look up at her. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, tasting the saltwater tears tracing across his tongue.

His hands moved down to her waist and he helped her up and let her lean into him when he noticed her knees were close to giving way.

"It's nanny Nash." Ellie murmured quietly but when she tried to get up, Evan reached an arm out and gently nudged her to sit down on the same chair as Lois. He shook his head when she started to whine and his stern expression and broken eyes told her not to try and see Athena. Not yet.

"I want you both to stay here where I can see you. Do not move away from this table, at all. You understand?"

Both girls meekly nodded and stayed cuddled together, squished on the green plastic chair opposite their nan and aunt. And Lois turned to her left and leaned to look in the pram, checking her youngest sister was still asleep and okay.

Evan couldn't have either of the girls coming over and talking to Athena, not when she was here on business to find Minnie. And he didn't want them leaving this table. He knew security was gathered around and every exit was watched and under lockdown, but he didn't want them moving. He needed all his girls where he could see them so he didn't have to panic about losing another girl.

His arms curled around (Y/n)'s waist and he pulled her back up against his chest with his lips against the back of her head. They headed over towards Athena and as soon as they were within reach, Athena reached out and gripped (Y/n)'s hand.

She could see the panic and the fear swirling within her step-daughter's eyes and her face was a bundle of emtions too vast and too many to reason with.

"Okay honey, I've been on the phone to your dad, he's on his way down here now. And he's going to do a quick canvas of the streets, just as a precaution. The officers have run me through the timeline and what's happened."

She gave (Y/n)'s hand a tight squeeze and ran her other hand up and down her arm. Athena had been in this situation hundreds of times, consoling parents, calming them down. Telling them everything was going to be okay. She had seen parents reuinited with their children and watched others fall apart when their children were never found or the worst outcome happened.

But a case like this had never been personal. She had never had a missing child be someone in her own family; one of her granddaughters, no less.

"What do we do now? No one's found her and this place is on lockdown, I'll go roam the streets if I need to, what's the plan?" Evan knew his mother in law would have a plan.

She was experienced in these situations and she knew the best course of action, but Evan wasn't a fan of waiting around. And they all knew if Athena tried to tell him not to help or get involved, he would go against her wishes anyway.

He would drive round the streets and look for her, he would scour the whole city if he had to. Someone just needed to point him in the right direction and off he would go, looking for his baby girl.

He needed her back.

"Just, try and stay calm Buck, please. I want you both to come with me to the security office so we can find her on the cameras and track her movements. That will tell us whether she is still in the centre, and if she is with someone. I can't imagine she'd be on her own, not willingly and not after this place has been swarming with security."

Athena wouldn't believe Minnie would willingly wander off alone, she was too young and nervous for that. And after all the announcements, the security rattling round and now the police, if Minnie was on her own they would have found her. She had to be with someone.

Evan nodded and gave (Y/n)'s hips a squeeze. This was good. They could see who they should be looking for and where they needed to check for Minnie. It had been just less than an hour since she went missing, if they were quick they could go and get her. They hoped.

"Seargent Grant?"

Athena let go of (Y/n)'s hand and turned to the side, looking at a younger officer who was trying to wave her towards him.

But (Y/n) saw what he was holding.

She ripped out of Evan's arms, stumbled past Athena and snatched the item before he could hide it from her or try to give it to Athena in secret.

"Baby, baby what is it?"

Evan pushed forward and latched his hands onto (Y/n)'s hips again so he could look over her shoulder. His lungs quaked in his chest and he couldn't breathe. Suddenly stricken at a bundle of thoughts of what it could be. Was it part of Minnie's clothing? Was it her shoe? Was it a randsom note or a picture?

It was Minnie's headband. The one with the mouse ears stitched on and a bright red, glittering bow in the centre. The one Evan had bought for her and had last seen her wearing on Friday morning. This was their way of finding her.

They would of been able to spot her in a crowd wearing these. The security cameras would pinpoint the toddler since she wore these all day. She wore them almost every day. Since Evan put them on her head Friday morning, she only took them off to get a bath and go to sleep.

She would scream if someone tried to take them off her or knocked them off. Minnie wouldn't leave them behind or go anywhere without them.

"Evan, s-she wouldn't take them off… Oh God,"

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. Her eyes zoned in with tunnel vision until the glittering, blood red bow was all she could see, think and imagine.

Her baby was lost somewhere, without these. That made her so much harder to spot in a crowd. She would be crying that she had lost them. She would be crying for her parents, her sisters, her aunt, her family. Something bad had happened to her and they weren't any closer to finding her.

(Y/n) held the headband so tightly the plastic started to cut into the palm of her hand. She didn't realise her knees had caved in until Evan's arms bound tight around her middle and he wrenched her into his chest before she went down to the floor.

She deadlocked the headband to her chest, binding her arms around it until the band was almost imbedded into her skin. Her head flopped forward as she began to sob but she felt like her heart was being torn out when she felt Evan's lips against the side of her head and realised he was crying too.

"She… I…"

"Where did you find them?" Evan's eyes were full of malice when they darted over to the officer stood behind Athena.

He pulled (Y/n) closer and tried to stand up, holding her tighter when her legs continued to shake and wobble. He could feel her shoulders shaking, her wheezing, croaky breaths. And when she turned her head and pressed her face into his neck, he wanted to scream. His wife shouldn't be in this state of distress, his daughter shouldn't be missing, his other girls shouldn't be frightened and traumatised.

"Where the fuck did you get them? They belong to our daughter! Where were they?!" Evan's voice rose until he was almost shouting and he could feel his voice travelling around the walls and bouncing off the glass ceiling.

Suddenly it didn't matter if the girls heard him or if he panicked the rest of his family. All Evan cared about was finding Minnie. They had to know where her headband was found.

"On the search, just outside the East exit." He pointed to their right but he shrunk back when (Y/n) all but screamed and Athena pushed him away.

"She's gone- Evan…"

Evan turned (Y/n) around in his arms, keeping his right arm around her waist while his other hand cradled the back of her head. His fingers knotted in her hair and he smothered his wet lips against her burning temple. Tears burned his face like acid rain and he started to sway them from side to side, quietly humming and shushing her.

"No, no baby she's not gone. We're gonna find her…" His eyes lifted to lock with Athena. "Bobby's not here yet, tell him to circle around."

"I will, now we need to go and check those security cameras. She clearly isn't alone which is what we want if she's out in the streets. Let's find out which direction she's gone, when they left, and who we need to be looking for."

He curled his hand and wove his fingers into (Y/n)'s hair, gently tilting her head back from his neck so he could look down at her. He brushed his fingers delicately over the side of her face and swiped his thumb across her lower lip.

"I'm gonna get Maddie and mum to take the girls home, they're scared. That way we can stay here and find Minnie, okay?"

He didn't want the girls to have to hang around in this bad situation. They didn't need to see their parents getting distressed and panicked like this. And they didn't need to watch them flutter about this place along with the police and security, trying to find Minnie. It would be easier for them and safer if they went home and tried to calm down and get settled.

That way, (Y/n), Evan and Athena could all focus their attention on Minnie without having to worry about checking on Lois and Ellie or settling Evie for a nap or calming her down.

And a miniscule piece of Evan's heart knew he needed the girls to be away from here in case they got bad news. If they found Minnie and it wasn't good. If they watched someone snatch her on the security tapes. If they couldn't get her back.

The girls couldn't witness that.

Evan could see all the bad thoughts running round in (Y/n)'s mind through her frantic eyes that couldn't stay focused on anything. She clutched the headband like it was her lifeline. When she nodded, Evan unravelled his arms from her and left her leaning into Athena so he could go back to the table all the girls in his family were sat at.

His hands found Maddie's shoulders and he leaned over the back of her chair, hovering his lips over her ear so the girls wouldn't hear.

"They found her headband outside… someone's got her. Can you take the girls home for me, if we stay and check security tapes?"

The hairs on the back of Maddie's neck started to prickle and stand on end and a fresh wave of goosebumps rose over her skin. She could feel her blood turning cold and disappearing down to her toes that were tingling and going numb in her shoes. They found her headband. She had managed to get outside before every exit of the shopping centre had been closed. They tried to lock her in but she got out somehow. Someone took her away.

She couldn't find her voice, so she settled on nodding. Her lips pressed into a thin line to stop a frown and she swallowed down her tears, she didn't want to worry the girls anymore than this.

Evan kissed her temple and moved to crouch down beside the table, resting between the chair the girls were sat on and Maddie who was sat on his right. He leaned his right arm on the table and moved his left hand to hold Lois's trembling hand in his palm.

"I want you all to go home with aunt Maddie and gran, you don't need to be here. But me and mum need to stay and get Minnie, so you need to be good for me, okay?"

Evan rolled his lips into a thin line when Lois wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to his chest, crying out in agony. It was almost as if he'd told her he was leaving for weeks instead of hours. But then again, Evan didn't know when he or (Y/n) would be able to go back home. If they didn't find Minnie soon, would he really be okay going home without her?

He would end up roaming the streets with Bobby, sending (Y/n) home to wait with the girls. Evan couldn't go home if one of his babies was missing, he wouldn't rest or sit down without her.

"Are you sure?" Maddie rested her hand on her brother's shoulder and leaned over to kiss his temple. She knew it was the right thing to do, but her heart didn't want to leave him and (Y/n) here. She wanted to stay and help search, but she knew none of the girls would settle with Margaret or Phillip. They needed her.

"Daddy, we don't wanna go without you. Can't we stay-"

"No baby girl, you can't stay with me I'm sorry. You need to go home, Maddie's gonna look after you, you'll be safe I swear." He kissed the top of her head repeatedly and moved to do the same with Ellie. "If you need us or you just wanna talk, you just call me, okay? We'll see you soon."

It took all the strength Evan had within him to pull away from his girls and take a step back so they couldn't cling to him. Their eyes stared up at him, full of pain, fear and unshed tears that were now tracing down their cheeks.

"Call me when you get them home." He looked between his mum and sister until they both nodded. He had to know when they were home or else Evan's mind would be split between panicking about Minnie and the rest of his girls. He needed them to be safe so his focus could be on Minnie.

Moving round behind the seats, Evan leaned over the pram and kissed Evie's temple. She was taking another power nap and Evan was glad. The last thing they wanted was the toddler crying and panicking too, if she could remain calm and settled then that would be a blessing for everyone.

When he approached (Y/n), his hands found her shoulders and his lips found the back of her head. When he nodded, Athena took the lead and led them towards the lift.

They had security tapes to check.

(Y/n) couldn't keep her eyes in focus. It didn't matter how hard she tried or how she scolded herself.

Minnie needs you! Look at the screen! Find your daughter in that sea of people.

All her eyes wanted to do was go down to stare at the headband tightly crumpled up against her chest. She was holding it so tightly the plastic was starting to cut through her shirt and imbed into her sternum like she wanted to tuck it into her ribcage and keep it safe with her heart. Keep it safe for Minnie.

Her forehead pressed up against Evan's razor cut jaw and she could feel herself focusing on how his fingers were feathering up and down her hip, trying to calm her down. It was doing the trick, but it was also distracting her. She was supposed to be looking through the tapes to find Minnie, but she couldn't.

She didn't want to, in fear of what she was going to find. Who would be walking away with her daughter? Why would they be taking her away?

Had they just taken her hand and walked her out of here? Had they picked her up? Did they smother her cries or pretend she was a child having a tantrum? Did Minnie go willingly or did she put up a fight and cry out for her mum who was nowhere to be found?

All the questions sent (Y/n)'s body into spasms and trembles. And when Athena pointed out the tape that showed their group going into the clothing store, (Y/n) turned away.

She didn't want to see herself letting Minnie run off. She didn't want to see her family turn their backs for one second and have Minnie snatched away from them.

She could feel Evan leaning over her left shoulder to scrutinise the tape, watching all the girls of his family split apart and wander around in pairs.

"Slow down that tape, she went missing around that time upstairs." Athena pointed to a screen on the left. At least four other officers were crowded into the room. They were going to go through each security camera in the area, one by one, tracking Minnie's movements.

"Minnie."

Evan tilted his head to the right and kissed (Y/n)'s temple, unable to bring his eyes away from the screen Athena was looking at. There was their girl, just about to dart away from his mother when she had her back turned.

"Stop!"

Evan's eyes managed to tear from the screen and look down at (Y/n) when she jolted forward. She was looking at a different screen. One of the ones on the right in the bottom corner. Her hands lunged out and patted the screen, drawing a circle with the pad of her finger around Minnie.

The security officer sat just in front of Evan was quick to pause the tape, and all eyes went to that screen.

There she was. Hidden in plain sight. Her hair, thin as the first layer of snow and straight as a ruler until it crimped at the very ends that touched her shoulders. Her hand, gripped tightly by a young woman, not too much older than (Y/n) herself.

Minnie was leaning backwards like she was trying to pull away or wanted to turn around and run back to her family. Tears were streaked down her face and her lips were parted like she was in the middle or about to burst into a sob.

They were stood in front of an exit that led out onto the street. And right there, as the frame was paused in motion, Minnie's headband was halfway down the back of her head, about to drop onto the floor.

That exit led out onto the street. It didn't lead into the multistory carpark that belonged to the shopping centre. Maybe they were walking on foot. That would slow them down; she couldn't take Minnie far on foot. She couldn't have gotten far in the hour that Minnie had been missing, if they didn't get straight into a car, that meant there was a better chance of getting her back.

"Play it slowly, frame by frame."

She dragged her out. The woman dragged Minnie out the door like she was a child having a tantrum who she was taking back home.

No one stopped her.

How could they? If (Y/n) had been passing by, she wouldn't have the courage or the nerve to stop another woman and her child. It wasn't normal to stop women when their children were having a tantrum. Even if Minnie had been screaming that she wanted her mummy or her aunt or even her sister. People passing by would presume the woman was Minnie's guardian, her aunt or her babysitter or someone familiar rather than a stranger dragging her away.

"Where's the nearest camera after that one?"

The guard pointed at the same screen but switched the video feed to the camera posted outside the exit.

The woman swooped down, hoisted Minnie up onto her hip, and walked down the street as if nothing was wrong.

"I want all cameras down that street, any shops, any traffic cameras. Centred around half past two, find out where she went after that street. This is good, we have a suspect and a direction and they're on foot, that gives us an advantage." Athena gave (Y/n)'s hand a reassuring squeeze, but (Y/n) didn't feel so relieved.

It didn't matter that it was a woman who had taken Minnie. There were thousands of derranged, twisted women in the world. That woman could have taken Minnie because she wanted a child, it could be innocent. She could have lost a child and wanted a replacement, or thought she was looking after Minnie or saving her from something.

Or she could have chosen Minnie because she wanted to hurt her. She could be doing anything to her by now.

(Y/n) wanted her baby back this very second.

"Baby- baby wait!" A growl tore from the back of Evan's throat as he set of into a sprint when (Y/n) bolted.

She flung the door open and flew out the room with her bag bashing against her waist and Minnie's headband still clutched to her chest. She was getting her back. They were going to open the shopping centre again and let people leave now they knew for certain that Minnie wasn't in here. (Y/n) was going to leave the exact same way that woman had and try to find her. She didn't know how and she didn't care, she just wanted to find her.

Evan's hands curled into fists at his sides and he could feel Athena hot on his heels as they darted out of the room and down the corridor to the left.

His heart jumped into his throat when he watched (Y/n)'s foot slip on the top step and he cringed, biting down on his tongue at the thought of her falling down. But she regained her balance and stumbled down the stairs two at a time, flinging herself around the corner to propell down the second flight and get down to the ground floor.

All the air got caught at the back of (Y/n)'s throat when she stumbled onto the ground floor and felt a hand curl around her upper arm. She tripped, sliding back on her heel until her shoulders crashed into a tense, hard chest and a familiar set of strong arms bound around her waist.

"Baby," Evan rasped into her hair, his voice deep and guttural as he breathed harshly against the top of her head. "Take a breath. We don't know which way she went after that road, and that was nearly an hour ago."

When (Y/n) tried to break out of his arms, Evan tightened them around her and pulled her back. He moulded his chest over her back and leaned forward, smothering his face against her neck. But he lifted his eyes to look across when Athena stood in front of them.

"We have people checking cameras, honey. Let's wait and see what they find and where she went-"

"I can't- I can't wait here," (Y/n) tilted her head back onto Evan's shoulder and looked up at him with those big, pleading eyes that made his stomach flip and sent his heart reeling. He would do anything she asked when she looked at him like that and they both knew it. "Evan… we need to look for her, she was crying."

Biting down on his lower lip, Evan looked from his wife to his mother in law. "Could we do a drive round? If Minnie lost her headband, maybe, fuck… maybe she lost a shoe or something? We can at least look, can't we?"

It was possible.

Minnie wasn't old enough to know about leaving items behind like a trail of breadcrumbs for people to find her. But if she was struggling, what's to say that she didn't lose a shoe? Or they could still be wandering the streets, trying to get away from the police that would be scattered round looking for them.

A drive round couldn't hurt, it would keep them busy and out of trouble and occupy their minds. (Y/n) and Evan couldn't wait around here doing nothing and they couldn't sit at the police station either and wait for news. It would drive them both insane.

"Okay. But I'll drive you."

***

Leaning to the left, (Y/n) slumped her head on Evan's shoulder. She felt unbelievably tired. Her eyes were aching and yearning to get some rest, her stomach felt heavy and her heart had turned to a stone, thudding and bashing against her ribs until her chest was going to collapse.

But she couldn't close her eyes. What if she missed something? What if when she closed her eyes, they passed by Minnie or something that belonged to her, or a clue?

They had been driving for almost half an hour now, and (Y/n) was losing momentum and the will to be in the car. It wasn't as bad as waiting at the station, but being confined in here, not able to do anything to or for Minnie, was just as bad.

Every now and then, Athena was getting updates from the security cameras and from tips people were calling in to the station.

People had seen a woman carrying a crying toddler. Someone had said they saw a woman in a corner shop whose child was crying for their mummy and that only made (Y/n) breakdown all over again.

Athena had driven down the route they knew for certain the woman and Minnie had walked when they left the shopping centre. But now they were driving around slowly, cruising the streets for clues, to pass the time, to wait until someone called in with another sighting.

And Bobby was driving round too. He had been driving for over an hour, going in circles, passing the same streets, going past the shopping centre at least ten times. Waiting for a sighting of his little granddaughter.

*Any news??? XX

Evan looked down at his phone but his eyes were glossy and cracked like marbles and his face was void of any expression. He had no update to give his sister. His mum. His daughters. Nothing of interest, nothing that would give them any sense of hope.

*Nothing yet. Driving round to find her, a woman carried her out the shopping centre. XX

"Why take her?"

Looking down, Evan pursed his lips and looped his right arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders. He let her head slump off his shoulder and down onto his chest and he smothered his lips into her hair when she bound her arms around his torso. She finally let go of the headband, but only to place it delicately on Evan's knee.

The band weighed down on Evan like a ton of bricks had crushed down on his leg. He could feel it burning, melting into his skin and it made his lungs ache like he had breathed in poisonus gas.

"She wasn't in danger, she wasn't wandering… or lost, and I, I'm not a bad mum-"

"I don't know why, baby. But we're getting her back safe." Evan couldn't go down that road. Not yet.

He couldn't bear to imagine what had gone through that woman's mind to make her snatch his daughter like this.

Minnie hadn't been in danger or wandering alone without her family, she had been less than twenty feet from her grandma when that woman took her. She wasn't in danger of being run over or hurt or snatched by anyone else. Minnie wasn't an unloved child, lost and forgotten or abused by her family. And (Y/n) wasn't a neglectful mother.

There was no tangible reason to take Minnie, no explanation or reasoning that could explain what this woman had done to them today.

When her phone began to ring, Athena swiped across and put it on speaker. "Bobby, whereabouts are you, love?" He had been calling every now and then to say where he had checked and whereabouts he was going next so they didn't go down the same streets together, they needed to canvas a wider area.

"Down fifty-seventh street… I've spotted her."

"Where is she? Is she okay?!" (Y/n) surged forward and latched her hands around the passenger seat in front of her while she felt Evan's hand slide down to her lower back. He sat up straighter, more alert beside her as they all waited for Bobby to respond.

Athena turned on her siren and lights and started to speed up. They were only two minutes away from that street.

"I swear it was her, with a young woman. They got into a taxi but he won't pull over so I'm following him. If you head up the top end of the street you can cut them off."

Bobby wasn't an officer, he wasn't in a police car or the fire station truck of the ambulance. Flashing his headlights was only annoying and probably panicking the taxi driver in front of him. And Bobby couldn't overtake and cut them off with oncoming traffic and the taxi speeding up to get away from him.

He knew it was Minnie. He watched a woman bundle a crying toddler into the back of the taxi and he just knew. He wasn't quick enough to stop them before the car drove off, so he did the next best thing and sped after them.

"We're on our way. This is 7-2-7-L-30, in pursuit we have a sighting of Minnie Buckley in a taxi on fifty-seventh street, back up required."

Athena could see and hear Evan tapping his knuckles against the window out of anxious habit. His hand was curled into a tight fist and if he applied pressure, he might just break the window.

"You both need to stay in the car until I can make sure it's Minnie and get her out safely. Do you understand me?"

With a deep breath, (Y/n) looked up at Evan and she knew. She just knew by that look in his eyes. She didn't want to wait in here and he wasn't going to sit back and wait. The moment Athena stopped the car, Evan would bolt. He would go and get their daughter back because this had been a day from Hell and he couldn't have anything happen to her. He couldn't have his daughter hurt or scarred for life by this. He had to have her back in his arms.

The couple braced themselves on the front seats when Athena swerved to the left and blocked off the end of the street. She put the door locks on and climbed out the car, effectively locking her children in the back of the car so they couldn't cause a scene.

"Evan-"

"She's not locking me in here. I'll go get her, baby."

(Y/n) leaned to the right and deadlocked her arms around her chest when Evan pushed forward. He swung his long legs between the front seats, thankful Athena didn't have a barrier in between the back and front of this car. He clambered roughly into the drivers seat and stumbled out into the street. He wasn't waiting, not when his daughter needed him.

"LAPD, turn off the engine and step out of the car." Athena held her gun low at her thigh and tapped her free hand on the driver's window. She could see Bobby's car parked across the road to block the taxi in so there was no escape. Though they both doubted the taxi driver was in on this or would help a kidnapper escape.

When the driver complied and slowly stepped out of the car, Athena pointed to the pavement. "Stand over here please."

Evan held his breath deep in his lungs and walked at a distance from Athena, whose back was turned to him. He didn't want to get her into trouble but he didn't want her to stop him either. He just wanted his baby girl.

His eyes darted to the right and for a split second, he watched Bobby get out of his car. But then Evan's eyes went to the back door of the taxi.

A woman climbed out.

A young woman, younger than Evan, at least. She had shoulder-length black hair and a fringe that almost reached her eyes that were rabid like a wild animal caught in a snare. But when she reached down and grabbed the hand of a little girl who scurried out the taxi, Evan saw red.

A purple dress with flowers. Plain white tights that were now ripped and black around the knees. Red shoes that were lathered in mud and about to drop off her little feet. That pencil-straight hair that was so thin if it had been blonde, she would of looked bald.

Those big doe eyes made Evan see red. His baby girl. That was his daughter, and she was trying to take her away from him.

The woman began to run. She hurried as fast as she could to the pavement, dragging Minnie with her who kept falling and scuffing along the road, unable to keep up and she clearly didn't want to either. She wanted to stop, she wanted to go home. She was lost, on a street she didn't know with a strange woman and she was hurt. She wanted to go home.

A blood-curdling cry left Minnie's lips as she moved her free hand to her mouth and began to sob. Her eyes scrunched up tight as tears stained her face and her feet bent and scuffed along the pavement.

Why was she being dragged around? Where was her mummy? Why had this lady taken her away from the shops? Why did none of her family follow or meet them outside like the woman said they would?

"Minnie!"

"Buck don't you dare!"

Evan broke out into a sprint, ignoring Athena's warning and moving faster when he saw Bobby aiming for him or Minnie, he couldn't be sure. But he wanted to get to her first. It was like a race, a competition, and Evan needed to win. He had to.

When Minnie stumbled, she flopped onto her already bruised and bloodied knees that had cut open when she fell just outside the shopping centre. Her hands scraped the floor and she let out a belting scream, curling up on herself in case the woman grabbed at her again.

Lunging forward, Evan crossed onto the pavement just as the woman either went to grab Minnie by the arm or the hair, he couldn't be sure. She looked panicked and frightened enough to grab her by her hair and haul her up if it would get them away from here any quicker.

"Touch my daughter again and I'll break your arm!" He caught her wrist mid-air, a split second before she could reach his little girl.

He could feel his boots touching Minnie's side, he was standing that close to her and his towering frame cast her in a protective shadow. But his eyes, oh his eyes seared holes right through the woman stood in front of him. His fingers clenched around her wrist until she was whimpering and shaking and he knew he was going to bruise her skin. If he clenched just a little more, he might even break a tendon or a bone.

He was desperate to. Evan wanted to crush her wrist into dust. He wanted to throw her down to the floor and scream at her. He wanted her to see the agony she had put all his girls through today.

To see what she had done to Evan's wife, how she had traumatised all his children and how petrified she had made Minnie by doing all of this.

When Evan let go of her wrist, an overwhelming wave of protection flooded through him like a tsunami. And before the woman could move an inch, Evan doubled over and grabbed his daughter.

He scooped Minnie up as she screamed, uncertain who it was that now had hold of her. But the moment she was nestled into that comforting chest and smelled that mixture of cologne and smoke, she simmered down into quiet cries and whimpers. Her arms bound around Evan's neck and she nuzzled her face into his skin as he peppered her temple and cheeks with kisses.

"Oh baby… it's okay, you're safe now. Me and mummy are here, we've got you little mouse."

Evan bounced her up and down against his chest, quietly shushing against her temple as he turned his back to the taxi and the woman who was now being detained by Athena.

"Mummy?"

"Yeah, mummy's here too baby, and nan and pops. We've been looking all over for you." He moved his hand up to cradle the back of her head and tangled his fingers through her thin hair. He didn't get two steps towards the police car before (Y/n) was clambering out of the open driver's side door and pelting across the road towards them.

"Mummy," Minnie sniffed and went off into another round of crying as Evan carefully lowered her down into (Y/n)'s arms.

As soon as Minnie was in her arms, (Y/n) closed her eyes and went down on her knees. Evan thought for a moment that she had collapsed or even fainted with relief, but she hadn't. She didn't have the strength to hold herself up any longer.

She tucked her face into Minnie's neck and started to rock back and forth, cuddling her close as if this was the last time she was ever going to see her.

A shiver rolled down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt Evan kneeling behind her. His knees pressed up into her leg and his chest curved around her, pulling her back into his chest so he could wind his arms around both her and Minnie.

"Are you okay baby, are you hurt?" (Y/n) brushed her sleeve beneath her eyes to clear her vision before she gently stood Minnie up in front of her and Evan so they could look at her properly.

She stuffed her thumb into her mouth and sniffed, letting them both reach out for her and check her for any injuries. When (Y/n) gently took both her hands and looked at them, she began to whimper. There were grazes along her palms, nothing major or deep but for a toddler, it would sting and distress her.

Evan carefully reached out for her left leg when he noticed she was leaning her weight on her right foot rather than balancing between the two. He didn't want to take her shoes off here and now in the street to assess her, but he figured it was either her foot or her ankle that was causing her pain when she flinched away from his touch.

And the cuts on her knees were clear as day. Her previously bleached white tights had large holes ripped through them with loose threads hanging loose around the sides. Blood was soaked into the fabric of her left knee which was cut open and her right knee wasn't much better, grazed and scuffed, lightly bleeding.

"Oh, little mouse."

Minnie whimpered again and pushed forward until she could flop against Evan's chest and shimmy until he lifted her up off her aching feet.

He held her as close and as tightly as he dared without smothering her, looped his left arm around (Y/n), and slowly rose to his feet. He kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head when she bound her arms around his torso and tucked herself beneath his arm.

She was okay. They had her back. Athena was arresting the woman and she would find out why she had decided to take Minnie and what she thought she was going to do with her. Bobby was beckoning them over to him as he leaned up against the bonnet of his car, arms folded tightly over his chest. But the relief was evident on his face.

"Come on, let's get you home."

[castiwls]

Hii

I was wondering if you could so something with a dean x reader where one of them gets attacked by a djinn and their fantasy involves the other person?

djinn - d.w

pairing; Dean x fem!reader

synopsis; A Djinn's coma causes Dean to come to a realisation

warnings; none

notes; Idk how i feel about the ending of this one

masterlist

Dean groaned as he squinted at the light snaking through the gap in the curtains. Throwing an arm over his eyes he turned pulling the covers up with him. How much did he drink last night? He hadn’t had a hangover this bad in years.

Deciding sleep was the best idea he pulled the cover higher and closed his eyes. The room was quiet for a few minutes as he lay still, his head still throbbing. 

“Dean. Come on you need to get up. You're going to be late.” Someone reached over and pulled the cover down despite his protests. A hand shook his shoulder briefly before he felt a dip in the bed. The hand which had previously been in his hair moved upwards and began carding through his hair slowly. “Dean, come on.” 

Dean frowned slightly. He knew that voice. “Y/n?” He opened his eyes slightly and stared at the person beside him in slight shock. You smiled at him, your hand continuing its movements. “You need to stop drinking at night.” Your voice was still quiet but there was a hard edge to it. “You promised you’d stop.” 

What was going on? This wasn’t normal…at all. Sure you’d been on his case about his drinking habits for ages but you’d never been this nice about it. Normally you’d just make some snarky comment about how he was drinking himself to an early grave before pushing him to bed.

He rubbed at his eyes sitting up slowly. He slowly took in his surroundings as his body seemed to finally wake up. This wasn't the motel. His eyes darted around the room for a moment before landing on you. You looked…different.

You looked happier. The stress lines which seemed to be prematurely forming were gone and those dark bags which seemed a constant under your eyes were gone. Satisfied that he was up you stood from the bed. “You have an hour till you need to go.” 

Dean frowned clearing his throat. The headache seemed to be subsiding. “Go where?” At his words, your frown deepened. A look of concern crossed your face. “The garage. You said you would cover a shift for Bobby remember?”

Dean quickly nodded. “Yeah, yeah sorry just not with it this morning.” You shook your head before leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips before turning and walking out of the room. 

Dean felt his cheeks heat up at the affection. While he couldn’t lie that he enjoyed it, the action also caused warning alarms in his head.

You and Dean weren’t a thing. You’d always just been his best friend nothing more. He slowly stood and walked over to the drawers pushed up against the wall and pulled a few open till eventually he found his own stuff. He’d never seen this house before in his life yet as he looked around the room it seemed that he had lived here for a while. The bedroom alone had pictures dotted around, things he had no memory of.

The last thing he remembered before waking up here was being in a barn on a hunt with Sam and the real you. He rubbed his neck as he racked his brain. What had you all been hunting?

Suddenly it hit him. A Djinn. “Fuck. Fuck.” He kicked the leg of the bed in frustration. That son of a bitch had managed to get the jump on him. He needed to get out of this dreamland fast. 

After calming himself down and getting dressed Dean made his way through the house. As he’d gotten dressed he’d been thinking of a plan. He had to wake up his actual body somehow and then get out of the barn. So far though he had no idea how to do that.

His only hope was that you and Sam would realise that he’d been grabbed and go after him. 

After a few moments, he found himself standing in the doorway to a small kitchen. At the sound of his steps (fake), you turned to face him. “There’s coffee in the pot.” You gestured to the counter beside you before you went back to cooking. 

Was this really his fantasy? Yeah sure, maybe his feelings for you weren’t exactly platonic but he didn’t realise they went this far. While he knew he had to wake up part of him didn’t want to. For the first time in years, you looked calm. You seemed the happiest he’d seen as you moved around the kitchen, humming softly.

“So, um.” He cleared his throat as he leaned against the counter. “Any plans for today?” He cursed himself internally at how awkward he was being but he had to at least act like he had an idea of what was going on.

You pursed your lips for a moment before coming over to him. You stopped in front of him before speaking. “Not much. Probably just more wedding planning I guess.” You shrugged not noticing his expression. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask if you were happy with the quote for the venue. They need a response by tomorrow.” You stepped back before reaching for two plates from behind him.

Dean stood still as he digested what you had just dropped on him. You were getting married. To him. 

“Uh yea. Yeah, it was nice.” He nodded. You smiled as you turned with two plates. “Great I’ll call them later.” 

Dean followed behind you as you walked over to a small table. He was getting married.

What else was different in this ‘fantasy’

You frowned stepping over a pile of you didn’t even know what. “He has to be here somewhere.” You whispered as Sam shone the flashlight around the old barn.

“Over there” Sam shined the light to a corner of the barn. You could just make out the shape of a person strung up. You and Sam had managed to get rid of the Djinn relatively easily, the hard part was finding his hideout. The creature hadn’t exactly been willing to talk.

You’d only managed to figure it out due to Dean mentioning to you before he left that he was going to a barn a few miles from the motel.

You both rushed over and began to untie him. “Dean! Hey Dean.” Sam shook his brother harshly for a moment. Dean let out a quiet groan before his eyes slowly opened. “Wha-where.” He stumbled over his words for a moment before rubbing at his eyes.

Y/n crouched down beside Sam and reached out to place a hand on Dean’s arm. “Are you ok?” 

Dean nodded. He slowly pulled himself to his feet stumbling slightly. You quickly reached out to steady him. Dean’s eyes flew down to where your hand rested on his arm.

His heart picked up slightly at the touch before he cleared his throat and looked back up to where you were looking back with a concerned expression. He cleared his throat trying to push the woozy feeling in his stomach away.

As the three of you walked back to the car he found his gaze falling on your left hand. Dean had never been one for marriage or even crushes for that matter but for the first time in his life, he felt himself longing for something which seemed so far out of reach.

[cjlouwho]

You're a Piece of My Soul I Can't Let Go

10.5k; read below or on ao3; tags: presumed dead (no actual major character death), angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety, panic, flashbacks, smut, witness protection, secret service

Buck didn't cry at the funeral.

It's not that he wasn't sad. He was heartbroken beyond repair.

The tears simply wouldn't fall.

He didn't show much emotional at all. Didn't listen to the speeches people gave. Didn't react when someone would give him a hug or a pat on the back. Didn't care about the words of encouragement by people who had no clue what it felt like to lose someone.

“Time will heal.”

“He's an angel now.”

“God needed him more.”

“Life goes on.”

“Hold yourself together for him.”

It was all bullshit.

The burial wasn't much different. He sat, unmoving, from his chair in the front row. Held out his hands when he presented with the folded flag. Heard the sniffs and cries from the people around him, but he remained stoic.

Nothing about this felt right.

There was a reception afterward at Bobby and Athena's place. Buck, wanting nothing to do with the limo that was reserved for family, had driven his Jeep to the cemetery.

He told Bobby he'd meet them at their place. Let Bobby wrap him in another hug before he left.

He didn't go to Bobby's.

Didn't want to talk to all those people. He had no desire to hear them laugh as they told stories about Tommy. They'd never know him like he did.

He went home instead. Back to the place he and Tommy shared.

It was Tommy's house, originally. Then Buck had moved in only five months into them dating. It seemed crazy at the time, but it worked. They were engaged two months later, married six months after that.

Four months of marriage. That's all they'd gotten. The ring around Buck's finger still felt new, and it was already over.

Seventeen months total. The best seventeen months of Buck's life.

And it was all gone.

Buck walked into the house that screamed Tommy, Tommy, Tommy everywhere he looked. There was the couch they had picked out together. The lamp that Tommy had knocked off the table twice, yet somehow never broke. The kitchen where they realized they were far too old to be having sex on a countertop. The clock on the wall that played obnoxious music every hour that Buck hated but Tommy loved, so it was only ever on if Buck had to work and Tommy was at home.

His houseplants he killed regularly.

The TV they splurged on because Tommy both loved watching movies and loved watching Buck watch movies.

The bedroom, two nightstands. One side almost empty because all Buck needed was a lamp and a spot for his phone at night. The other side with a lamp, charger, reading glasses, chapstick, and a glass of water that now had a thin film of dust covering the top.

Buck toed off his shoes and walked to the bed, lying down. He pulled his phone from his pocket and silenced it before setting it on his nightstand. He didn't want to be bothered. Maddie could see his location, would know he was fine. That was enough.

He curled onto his side, facing Tommy's side of the bed. He tugged at Tommy's pillow, moving it so it rested lengthwise against his body. He snuggled it tightly. Closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Tommy's shampoo and cologne, still fresh on the pillowcase.

He fell into a dreamless sleep.

Nothing about this felt right.

“What's the matter?” Tommy asked immediately upon entering the kitchen. Buck had his eyebrows drawn tightly together as he stared at a can of coconut milk. That was never a good sign.

“I got the wrong thing,” Buck pouted. “I was supposed to get coconut cream and I picked up the milk.”

“I'm guessing they're not interchangeable?”

Buck gave him a look that asked the question, “Are you crazy?” without saying a word.

“Right.” Tommy began searching the room for his keys, “I will go get you your coconut cream.”

“No, I can get it,” Buck put the can down and headed for the stove. “I'll let Bobby know dinner will be a little late,” he said, switching off a couple of the burners, “and then-”

Buck was cut off by Tommy wrapping his arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You keep cooking,” he insisted, “I'll get the cream.”

Buck smiled softly, leaning further into Tommy's touch. “You sure?”

“I'm sure.”

Buck turned his head for a kiss on the lips before Tommy unraveled himself from him.

“Keys?” Tommy asked.

“Coffee table.”

“Right! Thank you. Love you, Babe. Be right back.”

“Love you too.”

Three days was all the bereavement pay a city employee was allotted after the death of a family member. Bobby had managed to space out Buck's shifts enough to give him seven days before he had to dip into his vacation time.

It didn't matter anyway. He hadn't used his vacation days in a long time. Had been saving them for a long roadtrip with...

It didn't matter. He didn't need those vacation days anymore.

A part of him had thought about going back to work. He had gotten dressed and everything. Had his keys and was headed out the door. He couldn't seem to make it past the doorframe.

He typed a simple text to Bobby, taking vacation day, silenced his phone and got back into bed. Bed, bathroom, kitchen, bed, bathroom, kitchen, the same path for the next week.

People would come to the door, knock and knock and knock, but he made no effort to let them in.

When they'd text, he'd respond so they knew he was alive, but also knew to leave him alone.

I need some time, he'd text them, please let me have time to myself.

That worked for a while, until Eddie decided to screw it all and use the spare key he had to let himself in.

“Buck?” he called out as he gently opened the front door. “Buck, you here?”

He walked into the dark house, all the curtains drawn and not a single light on. After peeking into the kitchen and living room, he made his way to the bedroom. The door was cracked, so he nudged it open until he could see Buck lying on the bed, facing away from the door.

He was under the covers, cuddling a pillow close to him.

“Buck?” Eddie whispered.

He waited a few seconds and was just about to head out to the living room until Buck woke up, when he heard a, “Hm?”

“You awake?”

“I'm not a sleep talker,” Buck muttered grumpily. He turned just enough to look at Eddie. “Why're you here?”

“To check on you.”

Buck folded himself back over the pillow, closing his eyes. “Told you I'm fine.”

“Yeah... don't really believe you, bud.” Eddie walked over to the other side of the bed so he could face Buck. Sunlight peeked through the curtains enough for Eddie to see that, surprisingly, Buck didn't look like he'd been crying.

He just looked tired. Staying in bed for two weeks could do that to a person.

“Come on, Buck,” Eddie said, “let's go out to the living room. Get you something to eat.”

“Already ate,” Buck mumbled into the pillow.

“When?”

Buck sighed. “What time is it?”

“Three o'clock in the afternoon.”

“What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

Reluctantly, Buck sat up in bed, sending a glare to Eddie. “I ate at one.”

Eddie crossed his arms. “On what day?”

God, Buck hated when he got all parental with him. Made him feel like a child. “Wednesday.”

“Up,” Eddie demanded, snapping his fingers. “Now.”

Buck was too tired to fight him. He knew the quicker he went along, ate whatever Eddie wanted him to eat, talked about whatever Eddie wanted him to talk about, he could get him out of his house.

He pulled the covers off of him and got out of bed, scooting his feet as he walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

Eddie couldn't help but noticed how much weight Buck had lost over the last couple of weeks. It made him feel awful for waiting so long to force himself into Buck's home. He was trying to be respectful. Trying to give Buck the space he kept requesting. He'd get those texts from Buck every time he knocked on the door, and he'd leave because he was asked to. That's what they'd all been doing. He knew now that was a mistake.

“I don't wanna eat much,” Buck said, staring straight ahead at the TV.

“I already ordered some wonton soup from China Wok. It'll be here in a minute.” Eddie sat on the other end of the couch. “Talk to me, Buck. Please.”

“About?”

“Anything.”

Buck's eyes scanned the living room. Dead flowers were scattered around, all sent somewhere between the day after Tommy's body was found up until a few days ago. Buck had managed to bring them into the house, just so no one called in a wellness check on him, but he didn't bother with keeping them alive.

What was the point? They'd die eventually anyway.

“I haven't dreamt since he... since they... you know.”

Eddie was thrown off guard by the admission, expecting it to be harder for Buck to confide in him. “None at all?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Used to. Used to have a lot of dreams. Not anymore.”

“Buck, I know what it's like to-”

“Don't,” Buck interrupted, looking at Eddie for the first time since they sat down. “Please, I- I've gotten so many 'I know what you're going through' texts from people and it doesn't help.”

Eddie nodded. “I understand.”

Buck turned his attention down to his hands, thumbs twiddling together nervously. “Can I- Can I tell you something really dumb?”

“Sure!” Eddie exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “I love hearing dumb things.”

Buck managed a small smile. It faded faster than it had appeared. “I- Sometimes it doesn't feel, um, feel real to me. Like, I don't believe he's gone. That, um, that feeling that you get when someone has- when they've died. I- I don't have that.”

“Accepting it's happened is one of the hardest things to do, Buck. That's normal.”

“I haven't even cried,” Buck admitted. “Not since the day I was told he... he was gone.”

“That's normal too.”

Eddie didn't understand. Buck knew he wouldn't. “I don't know,” he breathed out, more to himself than to Eddie.

“Don't know what?”

The doorbell rang, pulling them out of their discussion. Buck was grateful. He didn't feel like talking anymore.

“Ready to eat?” Eddie asked, clapping his hands together as he got up and headed for the door.

“Mhm,” Buck lied. He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. He just needed to get through this meal, then Eddie would leave, and he could go back to bed.

He needed to get back to bed.

“It doesn't make any sense to me. At all.”

“You're not letting this go anytime soon, are you?”

“They didn't end up together in the end, Evan! Why'd they even say the movie was a romantic comedy? What's the point?”

Buck reached over and took Tommy's hand from where it rested on the center console. “I think they did it on purpose,” he surmised, “to spite you.”

“I agree, those bastards.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Buck gave Tommy's hand a squeeze, “they are fictional, so you know, they didn't really mind that they weren't together in the end.”

“Hm.” Tommy thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No, that doesn't make me feel any better at all.”

Buck shrugged. “I tried.”

“They had everything planned, Evan,” Tommy said, continuing his rant. “They had their whole future planned and they threw it all away in the end? Ugh, I can't.”

“Maybe it was to show that she found herself, you know, without him. That's not a bad thing.”

“It's not a bad thing at all, if I'm properly warned that that's what the movie is going to be about. It is a bad thing when you call the movie a romantic comedy.”

“Is there someone we should be writing a strongly worded letter to?” Buck asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

Tommy shot a meaningless glare in his direction. “You joke now, but I wasn't the only one crying in the theater.”

“Who said I was joking?” Buck asked. “I- I love a strongly worded letter. We can whip out some paper and a pen the second we get home.”

Buck could feel Tommy's body start to relax. His face softened as he stole another glance at Buck before turning back to the road. “I love that you're my husband.”

Buck brought Tommy's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I love that you're mine.”

Buck stared down at his wedding band. It had been a month now. A month since he'd last seen Tommy. A month and five days since their last date.

“Buck... Buck?”

Buck looked up to Hen watching him from across the truck. They were on their way to a call. Some small fire in the middle of nowhere with no people around. It'd be an easy call. Buck was grateful for that. This would be his fourth shift back at work, although it was his first full 24-hour one.

“Yeah?” he asked, ignoring the fact that Chimney and Eddie were giving him side glances as well.

“You good?”

He'd be angry at the question if anyone else had asked. He knew his temper was shorter than it ever used to be. Knew even the smallest things could set him off. He often had to force himself to stay calm. Take some deep breaths and count to ten before responding to someone.

He didn't have to do that with Hen though. Her voice was soothing to him. A calm against the stormy sea that was his mind.

Buck nodded. “I'm good.”

“You want in?”

He paused, dumbfounded. He had no idea what she was talking about. “In on what?”

“We're placing bets on what caused the fire,” Chimney explained. “I said kids smoking in the woods.”

“I'm going with the sun beating down on a glass bottle.” Eddie looked proud of his choice.

“Old fashioned illegal campfire for me.” Hen smiled softly at Buck. “You?”

“Oh, um, nah. I- I'm good.”

“Oh come on,” Eddie reached over and nudged Buck's knee. “Take a guess.”

Buck took a deep breath. Thought for a moment. “Fireworks, I- yeah. Fireworks.”

“In the middle of the day?” Chimney questioned.

Hen shrugged. “Wouldn't be the first time. Okay, Cap,” she said, fiddling with her headset, “what about you?”

Buck phased back out as Bobby made his guess. He tugged at his ring, twirling it around and around on his finger. He thought about the inscription on the inside. One Four Three. Had to force himself out of that memory before he could even start to get into it.

It all felt like too much. Too overwhelming. He needed to get himself together.

He sat up straight and cleared his throat.

He could do this. He could get through this shift. Get home. Get into bed. Stay there for forty-eight hours before he'd have to pretend again.

...He didn't even care that he won the bet.

“I've tried calling him like five times,” Buck said. He was sitting on the couch, his leg bouncing nervously up and down, Bobby and Athena sitting across from him. “I- I'm sorry about dinner, guys-”

“Don't even think about it,” Athena interrupted. “Bobby, you having any luck?”

Bobby shook his head. “I've texted him a few times but they're not going through.”

“Something's wrong. He wouldn't... Something's wrong. His location isn't on anymore either.”

“Okay.” Athena pulled out her phone. “Where did you say he was going?”

“Ralph's. He was just getting me some coconut cream for my recipe. I- I said I'd go but he insisted. That was over two hours ago. I, um, I should drive there and check.” He went to get up but Athena held out a hand to stop him.

“I'll go,” she said. “You and Bobby stay. Let me know if he shows up. I've got my badge and everything out in the car, so I can ask around at the store if I can't find him. His phone probably died and they were out of the right stuff at Ralph's, so he went somewhere else.”

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe,” Buck replied, but he could see the look Athena gave Bobby out of the corner of his eye.

He knew nothing in his life was ever that simple.

He stumbled upon the video by accident. He was looking for a picture of a recipe that Maddie had asked for when his finger hit the wrong thumbnail and the video began to play.

It was one he took without Tommy knowing. A rare rainy day in Los Angeles gave them the opportunity to relax at home instead of run errands or make plans.

Buck was splayed out on the couch, head on the armrest and his legs on Tommy's lap. Tommy had a crossword over Buck's legs, staring at it with an intensity usually reserved for flying into dangerous situations.

“If twenty-one across is evergreen, then eighteen down can't be carpet.”

“I thought you said eighteen down had to be carpet?” Buck asked off camera.

“It does, Evan,” Tommy placed the pen between his teeth. “It really does.”

“Then evergreen is wrong.”

Tommy shook his head. “Nope. It's gotta be evergreen.”

“We've been going over this for almost an hour now, Tommy,” Buck said, huffing out a laugh. “Give it up.”

“I've never been this close to finishing a Sunday crossword!” Tommy whined, the smile on his face betraying the seriousness of his voice. “If I give up now, I'll never forgive myself.”

“If you give up now I'll let you blow me as a consolation prize,” Buck offered cheekily.

Tommy gasped, glancing at Buck with a look of betrayal. “Sabotage!” he exclaimed. “I have to finish this, babe, or my name isn't Thomas Andrew Kinard!”

“Your name isn't Thomas Andrew Kinard,” Buck replied, the video shaking with his laughter. “It's Buckley-Kinard.”

Tommy froze. He clicked his pen closed and tossed it, along with the paper, on the coffee table. He turned to Evan, his eyes darkening, “About that consolation prize?”

Buck found himself smiling as the video ended. He'd taken it only three weeks after their wedding. The video wasn't even old, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

Suddenly, the living room felt cold. Buck's spot on the couch now uncomfortable. The silence a stark contrast to all the life in that memory. For two months now he'd had nothing but silence in his home, besides the far too occasional visits from his friends and family. It wasn't the same though. It wasn't the same as having Tommy.

The smile on Buck's face faded. He got up and headed to the bedroom to lie down.

Maddie would have to get that recipe another day.

“We're all set to clear out here,” Bobby said over the radio. “Great work everyone.”

The call had been a big one. A four alarm fire that required the assistance of multiple stations.

“This is Firefighter Pilot Kinard of Harbor Station for Firefighter Buckley of 118, over,” Tommy's voice came over the radio. He had been providing assistance from the chopper, now hovering above them as he set to head back.

Buck glanced around at the rest of the 118, all stopping what they were doing to watch him and listen in. “Go for Buckley.”

“Looking for confirmation on a code one-four-three.”

“One-four-three confirmed and returned.”

“Excellent. Returning to Harbor Station.”

“What the hell is a one-four-three?” Chimney asked once the sounds from the chopper were off in the distance.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “It's their way of saying 'I love you' after a big call.”

Buck smiled. “We usually text it to each other,” he explained, a blush rising on his cheeks, “just to let the other know we're alright. Guess he couldn't get to his phone.”

Hen put a hand to her stomach. “That's so preciously sickening I might throw up.”

“Okay, okay, come on guys,” Bobby said, waving the group toward the truck, “give Buck a break-”

“Thank you, Cap.”

“-for now. We can make fun of him on the way back to the station.”

“Hey!”

It was the longest, most grueling shift Buck had had since he could remember. He had only managed a couple hours of sleep, and that was often in fifteen minute increments. The worst part was the majority of calls were from people being stupid. Accidents that could have been prevented had a single person with half a brain been anywhere around.

All Buck wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

Which is why he was not so pleasantly surprised when he pulled up to Maddie's car in his driveway.

She greeted him at the door with a hug, and he faked a smile as he hugged back. “Why're you here?” he asked, trying to sound polite.

“Well, you've been working so hard lately, I figured I'd come over and help with the housecleaning.”

“Oh, uh, um, thanks.” The overwhelming smell of cleaning supplies made him feel a bit lightheaded as he walked further into the house, dropping his duffel on the dining room table. “It looks great in here.”

That wasn't a lie. She had made the place spotless. He wasn't a messy person himself but he couldn't deny he'd let certain things, like mopping and dusting, go over the past few months.

“It's the least I could do,” she replied. “I won't stay long, Howie texted me about how busy you guys were. Needed an excuse to see you though. It's... It's been a while.”

Two and a half weeks, to be exact. No fault of Maddie's either. She'd make plans with him, and he'd cancel last minute.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “I've been, uh, trying to get things back in order. I'm just- I'm still kind of...”

“It's okay,” she assured him. “Really. I understand.”

“Let me, um, let me go put my jacket up,” he said, tugging at it, “and we'll talk for a little bit before you go.” He didn't want to. No desire for small talk, or talk of any kind, but he couldn't kick her out of the house after all she'd done for him.

She smiled. “Okay. That sounds good.”

He headed to his bedroom, but stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the doorway.

“Did you... Did you wash my sheets?”

“I did,” Maddie replied, coming up behind him. Her voice was far too nonchalant for the blinding rage that was slowly seeping up inside him.

“All of them? Like, the pillowcases too?”

“Uh, yeah? Why would I only wash some of your sheets, Buck?”

Buck hurried over to the far side of the bed, throwing the comforter and sheets back to get to Tommy's pillow.

He didn't care if he looked like a crazy person. He brought the pillow up to his face and took a deep breath in.

It smelled like Gain.

It made him want to throw up.

“Buck, what's wrong?” She was clearly worried, standing uncomfortably in the doorway.

“I didn't ask you to do this, Maddie,” he said angrily, tossing the pillow back on the bed. “I- I didn't ask you to do any of this.”

“I know. I just wanted to help. Buck, I'm sorry if I-”

“I need you to leave.”

“Buck-”

“Leave!”

She stood firmly in place. “I'm not leaving until you tell me what I did wrong.”

“I- I, everyone keeps trying to help me,” he huffed, “and I don't want it! I don't want Eddie coming over for dinner! I don't want Hen taking me out for drinks! I don't want Chimney taking me to a movie! I don't want Bobby texting me every damn day! And I don't want you to be my maid!”

“We're just trying to help you, Evan-”

“Don't call me that!” He spewed.

He was breathing heavily. The stinging in his eyes surprised him. It'd been so long since he had last cried. He didn't particularly feel like crying right now, but apparently his body did. He groaned, sitting down on Tommy's side of the bed and staring out the window. He brought Tommy's pillow to his chest, and began to sob.

Maddie was by his side in seconds, wrapping her arms around him and enveloping him in a hug. 'I'm so sorry, Buck. I'm so sorry.” She was crying too. Buck could feel her tears wetting his shirt. He wasn't even sure why she was apologizing. She didn't have anything to be sorry for. If anything, he should be apologizing for snapping at her so harshly.

If he could speak, he would have told her as much. Would have told her that his head was a jumbled mess that he couldn't seem to clear. That nothing about this felt real. That he felt like Tommy was still there, somewhere, with them.

That it'd been four months since he'd had a dream. How he missed dreaming. They were always so vivid, him and Tommy, living their lives together.

Now, there was just darkness. An endless abyss of black every time he closed his eyes.

He'd tell her how his memories haunted him. The dreams may not exist, but the memories would appear out of nowhere at the worst times. They'd plague him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape them.

He wasn't sure how much time passed before he was able to find his voice. Before he was able to bring himself out of Maddie's embrace. He kept a tight hold on the pillow, fingers messing with a pulled thread at the edge. “It s- smelled like him,” he said, his lip still trembling. “I'd... I'd wash everything else but, um, I- I couldn't wash this.”

“Oh, Buck, I'm so sorry. I didn't-”

“I know. It's okay. I- I know you were trying to help. It's okay.”

“Do you still have some of his cologne?”

Buck nodded and Maddie got up to go into the bathroom.

“Where?” she asked.

“Far sink, open the cabinet, black bottle.”

She returned a few seconds later with a bottle in hand, held out for Buck to see. “This one?”

“Mhm.”

“Want me to spray it?”

He laid the pillow out flat and Maddie sprayed it a couple of times.

“I really miss him, Maddie,” Buck admitted quietly, inhaling the scent of his cologne as it passed through the air.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

“Bobby, it's been twenty-four hours of nothing. I'm freaking out.”

Bobby hadn't left Buck since he'd arrived the day before. Athena had worked all night putting out alerts for Tommy and his vehicle, but hadn't gotten anywhere.

He and Buck had left two different times to go driving around. The rest of the 118 had gone searching as well, going to places he frequented, driving down any and every back road they could find.

Nothing.

Now, back at the house to rest for a minute, and make sure Tommy hadn't come back home, Buck was in a full blown panic.

“I know, Buck, but we're all doing everything we can,” Bobby replied, leading Buck to the couch. “Athena's got officers searching the whole city for his car. He'll be found.”

“But what if-”

“No,” Bobby sat on the edge of the coffee table so he could face Buck, “you're not gonna think like that, Buck.”

“Bobby,” his voice was pleading and his eyes red. “You know s- something's wrong. H- He wouldn't do this. You know that.”

Bobby sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what he could even say, when the doorbell rang.

Buck's heart started pounding right away. Athena wouldn't ring the doorbell. She'd knock. So would anyone from the 118, except Eddie. Eddie would come right on in.

He was shaking as he got up and walked to the door, Bobby close behind him.

“Detective John Farrow,” a man introduced the second Buck opened the door. “Are you Evan Buckley-Kinard?”

Buck nodded. “I- Yes. I- I am.”

“Mr. Buckley-Kinard, I'm sorry to inform you...”

The sound of the detective's voice was replaced by a ringing in Buck's ears. He felt dizzy. His vision blurred. The last thing he remembered was Bobby catching him as he fell.

Agreeing to lunch at Maddie's with his parents was a mistake. He knew that from the moment he said yes. He'd been working on controlling his temper. Not overreacting at the small things.

There was still more work to be done.

“So,” Margaret began, everyone settled at the table. Maddie looked up to see her eyes on Buck. The look Margaret was giving him already made her want to scream. “There's really no easy way to say this, Evan-”

“Then maybe you shouldn't say it,” Maddie suggested. Chimney placed a hand on her back, rubbing gently to try and ease the tension.

Buck remained quiet, eyes directed toward his mother with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I'm simply asking,” Margaret continued, “if you've, you know, gotten back out there any?”

“Margaret,” Phillip warned under his breath. Maddie knew that if their dad wasn't even on their mom's side, this was never going to end civilly.

Maddie swore Buck's eyes went dark. “Buck-” Maddie started, but he cut her off.

“You're not seriously asking me if I'm dating six months after my husband died, are you, Mom?”

“Not dating, but getting back out into the world. I- I've heard so much about you staying holed up in your house, only leaving to go to work, and that worries me, Evan.”

“Stop calling me, Evan,” Buck demanded.

Margaret raised her hands in surrender. “I'm sorry,” she said, and she meant it. The name sometimes slipped out without her realizing it. She had been warned that the name triggered Buck in a way it never had before. Even though others had used it on occasion before, Evan had become Tommy's name for him. And with him gone, Buck didn't want to hear it from anyone. “I'm sorry, Buck. I just don't want to see you wasting away. It's hard for a mother to see her child suffer like this.”

“Were you over Daniel's death in six months?” Buck asked bitterly. “Were you back out there? Cause I seem to remember it being about thirty years before you even mentioned his name. And you only did that once Maddie told me about him.”

Tears filled Maddie's eyes. “Buck,” she spoke softly. She desperately wanted this conversation to end.

“That's not fair, Buck,” Margaret answered, her voice shaking. “Daniel was my child.”

“And Tommy was my husband!” Buck slammed his napkin on the table, rising to his feet. “We had planned a future together! We were saving up for a house, we were planning on having kids, we talked about what we'd do when we retired! Hell, we planned weekly grocery shopping trips together! All these things got ripped out from under me, and I'm supposed to just get back out there? Are you crazy?”

“Hey,” Phillip stood across from him, “that's too far. Your mother wasn't trying to be malicious.”

Buck shook his head, then began to head for the door. “This was a mistake. I- I'm gonna go.”

“Buck, wait-” Maddie went to get up, but Chimney placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Let me,” he said, walking out after Buck.

“Wait a minute, Buck!” Chimney jogged a few steps to catch up to him.

Buck stopped at his Jeep, hand on the door handle. “I'm not going back in.”

“Wasn't gonna ask you to. Just want to make sure you're okay.”

Buck let out a humorless laugh, turning back to Chimney. “Well, apparently I only stay holed up in my house except to go to work, so you tell me if I'm okay.”

“Maddie didn't say it like that to them, Buck, please don't be mad at her. She's worried about you. We all are.”

Buck scoffed. “Just leave me alone for tonight,” he said, getting into his Jeep. “I'll see you at work on Friday.”

“He flashed the ring three times today,” Eddie said, scooting back into the bench. After work they'd all met Tommy at the bar for a few drinks before heading home.

“Four,” Hen corrected.

“Nope.” Chimney took a sip of his beer. “Five.”

Tommy grinned at Buck. “Really? Five times? Can't say I blame them, I do have a hot fiancé.”

“Oh, my guy was not flirting,” Chimney stated. “Buck asked him if he liked the way the ring shimmered in the sunlight.”

“Mhm,” Hen agreed. “My girl wasn't flirting either. Buck noticed she had an ultrasonic ring cleaner in her bathroom and asked if she was happy with her purchase because, and I quote, 'I just got engaged and I want to make sure my ring stays perfect forever.'”

“Okay, guys,” Buck said with a groan, “we get it. I'm lame.”

“I don't think it's lame.” Tommy rested his hand on Buck's knee. “I think it's adorable. I love that you're excited to get married.”

A blush rose on Buck's cheeks. “I am excited,” he agreed, leaning in for a kiss. “Very excited.”

“Before this gets pg-13,” Eddie interrupted, “the two men I had were definitely flirting, but they both got the hint after the first 'fiancé' was thrown out there. Buck threw in two more for good measure. The other person- not flirting.”

“What about you?” Hen asked Tommy. “Did you get any offers you had to turn down today?”

“Well, I was thousands of feet in the air for both of the calls I went on, so any prospects would have had to look at me through some really good binoculars and then steal a radio to tell me they were into me, so no. No offers.”

“The guy in the bathroom definitely flirted with you like ten minutes ago, Dude,” Eddie said with a laugh.

“What?” Tommy asked incredulously. “No he didn't.”

“He for sure did. Man was jacked and he was asking for your workout routine.”

“He said he wanted to switch things up!” Tommy exclaimed.

Eddie snorted. “Oh, he definitely wanted to switch things up.”

“What? Who is this man?” Buck eyes darted around the bar. “Where is he?”

“Don't worry about it Buck,” Eddie reassured him. “Tommy didn't even realize it. Gave the guy a five minute rundown of how he gets the perfect squat. Your man only has eyes for you.”

Buck settled back into his seat, leaning into Tommy's side as Tommy pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his temple. “That's true,” he whispered into Buck's ear.

Buck rested his head on Tommy's shoulder, ignoring the teasing gag sounds that came from the others around them.

If it were possible, he'd stay like this forever.

He should have expected this.

It should have happened sooner, if he were being honest.

He was lucky to go seven months without a call that hit too close to home.

There had been a hit and run. The car that was hit had flipped twice, landed right side up, and immediately burst into flames.

The man in the driver's seat never stood a chance.

Buck was okay while they hurried to get out the flames. He'd ignored the glances from the rest of the team, ignored Bobby's suggestion to stay by the engine, ignored the thoughts in the back of his head telling him to sit this one out.

It wasn't until the fire was out and he saw the man's body, burnt so severely he looked more like a halloween decoration than a human, that Buck lost it.

No matter how much he wanted to look away, his eyes were fixed on the body. His heart rate was speeding up quickly, each breath short and sharp and painful.

He hadn't even realized that tears were falling down his face. Or that he was letting out little noises similar to a dog's whine. He had his helmet in his hand, shaking so much it was vibrating against his leg.

Buck didn't even notice the bystanders watching him, some of them whispering, others pulling out their phones.

It felt like hours, but Bobby was in front of him within seconds. “We're gonna walk away, Buck,” he said calmly but firmly, planting a hand on his shoulder. “We're gonna walk away and go sit behind the engine. Come on.”

Buck let Bobby guide him to a quite spot behind the fire truck, sitting on the curb. Bobby took his helmet from him and tossed it somewhere, then sat down beside him.

“I'm sorry,” Buck breathed out, wiping over his face with his hand.

“You don't ever have to apologize for being human, Buck.”

“I don't know how to do this,” he confessed through sobs. “I don't- I don't know how to keep g- going.”

“The path through grief isn't linear,” Bobby explained. “Hell, it's not really much of a path you get through at all. More like a loop.”

“So this is... This is m- my forever?” He asked, voice rising in despair.

“No. Not exactly. You do learn how to manage it better over time, but it takes time, Buck. And it takes letting the people around you help you, instead of pushing them away.”

“I don't mean to,” Buck said as he began to calm down. “It just takes so much energy. Everything is exhausting. Talking to people is- is so exhausting.”

“I know. Buck, you've seen grief. It's been around you since you were a baby. I'm not saying there's any right or wrong way to grieve, but I think you know how dangerous it is to lose yourself in it.” Bobby put his arm around him, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “No one expects you to be exactly who you were before you lost Tommy. I'll never be the same person I was, Eddie won't be the same person he was, Chimney won't be who he was before losing his brother, I could go on and on. But we- I need you to realize you're still here, you're still breathing, and Tommy wouldn't want you to disappear.”

Buck nodded, a new wave of tears taking over him.

Bobby pulled him close and let him cry.

“How many kids do you want?”

Buck and Tommy were sat on the front porch steps watching the sunset behind the trees across the street.

“Uh,” Tommy paused, caught off guard. “I don't know. Haven't really thought about it.”

Buck shrugged. “We've talked about wanting kids, but we've never talked about how many we want.”

“Hm. Two sounds nice. Kinda close together so they can grow up with each other. You?”

“Two's good,” he agreed. “But we'd need a bigger house.”

“Oh, for sure. This one barely fits the two of us.”

“And I'd like for us to be married a while first. Settled, you know?”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “You proposing?”

“Ha! Like this? No.” Buck took Tommy's hand in his and they settled into a comfortable silence. After a couple minutes, Buck squeezed Tommy's hand to get his attention. “I have, um, I've been thinking about it though. Um, about proposing,” he said, staring deep into Tommy's eyes to see what kind of response he'd get. When Tommy appeared surprised, Buck panicked a bit. “Is that, um, is- is that weird? To be thinking about it so soon?”

“What? Oh, God, no, Evan. I,” he laughed, “I've actually been thinking about it too. For a while now.”

Buck looked as shocked as the night Tommy first kissed him. “Really?”

“Really. I've been googling rings, looking for the perfect one. Kept trying to talk myself out of it because I wasn't sure if you'd think it was too fast but-”

Tommy's words were cut off by Buck's mouth on his, so forceful it nearly toppled them both over.

“Oh! Mmm,” Tommy moaned into the kiss, resting his hand at the base of Buck's neck.

“Yes,” Buck said, dazed as he pulled back far enough to speak.

“What?”

“Yes.”

“Bu- Evan, I didn't ask yet. Not the- I don't have a ring.”

“I don't care, Tommy. Yes. I'm saying yes. Yes?”

It took Tommy's mouth a second to catch up with his brain, but once it did he was nodding, his eyes filling with tears. “Yes. Of course, yes,” he replied, both of them laughing giddily before crashing their lips back together.

Everyone except for Hen was upstairs relaxing between calls. Bobby and Buck were at the table, planning out next week's meals. Eddie was fixing himself a cup of coffee. Chimney was on the couch, reading a book.

“We're all going out for beers after our shift,” Eddie said, glancing at Buck. “You in?”

Buck nodded. “Yeah, I'm in.”

He'd been trying lately. Trying to do things other than work and sleep. He'd gone to the zoo with Jee a couple times over the past month. He'd gone to Bobby's for dinner. Watched a game at Eddie's place. Met Maddie and Chimney for brunch. He'd even gone over to Hen's one night when she was home alone and they'd gotten hammered while discussing their various traumas.

Every one of these occasions had ended with him in his car, or a cab, sobbing uncontrollably.

But he was trying.

Hen walked up the stairs, a worried expression on her face. “What's up with you?” Chimney asked, first to notice.

“Uh... Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“There's a... a secret service agent here for you.”

All eyes were on her now.

A... a what?”

Before Hen could get in another word, a man in a suit walked up behind her.

Buck stood, recognizing the man right away. It was the same man who had come to his door to let him know about Tommy. His heart sunk. How could this possibly get worse?

“Detective Farrow?”

“Mr. Buckley-Kinard,” he greeted. “It's actually Special Agent Farrow, but you can all me John.”

“I- I don't-”

“I know this is a bit odd,” he continued, “and was not something I actually wanted to do. I was going to hold off until you were home, but he refused to wait another minute.”

“I- what are you talking about? Who?”

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs interrupted whatever John was about to reply.

Suddenly there was a very familiar, very alive Tommy standing in front of them, smiling brightly at the sight of Buck. “Hi, Evan.”

“Holy shit.” The words escaped Chimney's mouth without him realizing.

Hen followed right after with an, “Oh my God.”

Eddie felt his coffee cup slip from his hand and shatter against the countertop. No one even noticed.

Bobby was standing right beside Buck, thankfully, because he had to quickly reach out and grab onto him before he fell to the ground. He managed to whip a chair around and get Buck seated as he stared, mouth agape, at his husband.

His alive husband.

His breathing husband.

His not-buried-in-the-cemetery husband.

“Evan,” Tommy stepped forward, but Buck held his arm out to stop him.

“What the hell is going on?”

Tommy was confused. Buck sounded angry, and scared. He looked around at all the other faces staring back at him. “Why... Why do you all look like you've seen a ghost?” he asked.

Chimney walked up to Tommy, poking him on the shoulder. “Because you're dead. At least, you're supposed to be.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “I'm what?” He turned to John. “Why would they think that?”

John cleared his throat, eyes gazing downward. “There's a lot we need to discuss, Mr. Buckley-Kinard.”

“Why would they think I was dead?” Tommy repeated, angry now.

“Because that's what we were told,” Hen answered.

Tommy stepped closer to John. “You told them I was dead?”

“We couldn't risk anyone knowing-”

“You told my husband I was dead?!”

“-that you were alive. It would have put everyone-”

“And you lied to me to keep me there?!”

“-in danger. It was easier this way.”

“That was not the deal!”

“Everyone shut up!” Buck's voice rang out over the station. He got out of his seat, Bobby keeping a hand near his back until he was sure Buck was steady.

Buck cautiously moved toward Tommy, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You- You're really here?”

All of the anger Tommy had for John fell away as he looked into Buck's eyes. He nodded. “I'm here. I'm so sorry, Buck, I didn't-”

Buck shook his head, “I- I don't care right now.” He brought a hand up to Tommy's chest. Felt the thump-thump-thump of his heart. The firmness of his chest. He felt up until he reached Tommy's collarbone, poking ever so slightly out from his shirt. Felt the warmth of his skin. The slight dip that led up to his neck that Buck always loved to linger on when they were alone in bed. He felt the roughness of a two day old beard as he felt up his neck and toward his jawbone. “My God.” The words were hushed, breathed out through trembling lips and red-rimmed eyes. He pressed their lips together so quickly, so urgently, that Tommy didn't even have time to register it. He moaned into the kiss, finally reaching out and wrapping his arms around Buck's waist, finding their home at the base of his back.

“Let's give them a minute,” Bobby said, gesturing for everyone to head downstairs.

“I need to brief them,” John replied, earning him a glare from everyone else in the room.

“We're giving them a minute,” Bobby demanded.

John didn't try to protest any further. He simply followed the others downstairs, allowing Buck and Tommy time to reconnect.

“I didn't know,” Tommy began, he and Buck seated on the couch. “I was never told that you thought I was dead.”

“I am so confused, Tommy, I don't... I'm not even sure if this is real, to be honest. Am I dreaming? I haven't... I haven't had a dream since you died. Is that what this is?”

Tommy shook his head. “It's not a dream, Evan.”

“Then what the hell happened?” Buck asked, going from anxious to frustrated, “Cause I'm kinda pissed.”

Tommy scooted closer to Buck, cautiously holding out his hands for Buck to take. There was hesitation, but Buck gave in.

“The night I went to the grocery store, I saw something. I, it was a murder.”

Buck's eyes widened. “A what?”

“Yeah, I know. When I was leaving the store, I went out the back way to avoid all the traffic at the main entrance. It was getting dark, and when I passed by the dumpsters out back I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I- this guy had shot another man. I got a good look at him, and he got a good look at me too, but he ran. I got out of the car, called 911, and tried to help the other guy, but he was dead.”

“I... My brain feels like it's about to explode, Tommy. I don't understand how this leads to me planning your funeral.”

Tears came to Tommy's eyes at the thought. He continued, “The police came first, and they were asking for descriptions and any information I had. Then, the FBI shows up, and the CIA, and suddenly I'm surrounded by agents from every agency that goes by initials. This guy, whoever I saw, was apparently a hitman. A good one. Like, ties to Russia and shit. Anyway, I'm being tossed into a van and told my life's in danger because this guy saw me.”

“This sounds like a really bad cop thriller, Tommy.”

Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I know, believe me. But these agents are telling me that I need protection, this man has killed for less before, blah blah blah. They said he'd killed an entire family because the mom had witnessed one of his hits.”

Buck scoffed. “Apparently he's not that good if he keeps getting caught.”

“Evan,” Tommy said, eyes pleading, “they showed me crime scene pictures of what this man had done. Told me he'd do the same to you if I went home. It was... It was horrific.”

“They wouldn't even let you call me? Tell me you were okay? I was- I went through hell these past eight months.”

“They took my phone, said anything electronic was a risk. Said if I declined protection, if I went home to you, I was basically signing your death certificate. But I told them- I told them that I had to let you know something and they said to write you a letter. I wrote one every week. They said they'd deliver it to you.”

“They did not deliver any letters.”

“Yeah, I'm getting that now. Evan, I swear I had no idea they were going to tell you I was dead. No idea.” Tommy clung onto Buck's hands tighter, and Buck couldn't ignore the pang in his chest at having Tommy in front of him. Alive. With him. Beside him. Holding him.

“I believe you.” He was being honest. He did believe Tommy. He knew Tommy would do anything to keep him safe. He also knew Tommy would never agree to making Buck feel the way he had felt for the last eight months. “I am just... I am so confused right now. This all sounds so crazy and over- overwhelming, Tommy. And I really wanna punch that John guy, whoever the fuck he is. And I want-” he cleared his throat, eyes red with unshed tears. “I wanna go home, Tommy.”

Unable to hold himself back any longer, he leaned into Tommy. They met each other halfway, their foreheads pressed together. Buck reached up and cupped Tommy's cheeks, brushing his thumbs against the rough stubble. They closed their eyes and breathed each other in. Buck whispered, “Can we go home?”

John wanted to sit with them and go over everything before they left, but the boiling over rage from the both of them was evident, so he made a plan to speak with them the next day.

After brief hugs and hello's, along with endless apologies to everyone at the 118, Tommy and Buck left.

The ride home was oddly, but comfortably, quiet. Neither were totally sure what to say. Tommy had basically been a prisoner in a safe house for eight months until the FBI found this hitman. Buck had been living in a prison of his own, thinking the love of his life had been burned and buried.

“Home sweet home,” Buck said as they pulled into the driveway. He let go of Tommy's hand long enough for them to get out of the car.

They were interlaced once again as soon as Tommy walked around the Jeep.

Buck needed the touch. Needed to stay connected to Tommy somehow, so he didn't wake up from whatever dream he was in. If this wasn't reality, he wanted to stay wherever it was for the rest of his life.

They walked into the house slowly, Buck a step ahead of Tommy, leading the way.

Once the door was shut behind them, Tommy began looking around.

Everything was... the same. Besides a few of his houseplants being gone, but they never stood a chance in the first place.

Tommy stepped in front of Buck, gave his hand a squeeze before letting go, and continued further into the house.

Buck's body ached at the loss of Tommy's touch, but he let him go. Knew this was overwhelming for him too.

“You kept all my stuff,” Tommy noted, moving into the living room.

“Of course I did.”

“Even though you thought I was-”

“A part of me didn't believe it. I kept telling people that something felt wrong. Everyone said I was in denial; that I'd move on when I was ready.”

“God, this is so fucked up.” Tommy turned to face Buck. The space between them felt as though they might as well be a thousand miles apart. “It's okay if you're mad,” he said. “I understand.”

“I- I am mad,” Buck admitted. He moved closer to Tommy. Everything still felt so surreal. He wasn't even sure if this was actually happening right now. “I don't think I'm mad at you though. I- I'm mad at them.”

“Who?”

There were so many to choose from. “Everyone who took you away from me.”

Tommy nodded. “I'm mad at them too. They wasted eight damn months of my life. Our life.”

Buck cleared any remaining distance between them. He brought his hands to Tommy's waist slowly, dragging his hands up and down his sides, feeling the defined muscles that rested just beneath his shirt.

Tommy sunk into the touch. He watched Buck as he stared at his body. Looked over every inch of him to make sure Tommy wasn't a figment of his imagination.

Tommy brought a hand to Buck's chin, gently tilting his head up until their eyes met. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.

Buck sucked in a breath. “Please.”

Tommy brought their lips together gently, both of their bodies shaking with the need to be closer. Feel more.

Buck fisted Tommy's shirt in his hands, pushed their bodies as close as they could go with how they were standing.

Tommy brought his hands to the nape of Buck's neck as the kiss deepened. Their tongues met with a moan, teeth clashing together before Buck pulled back just far enough speak against Tommy's lips. “I don't want to be mad right now,” he whispered like a secret.

Tommy kissed him again. “What do you want?” he asked.

Buck slowly raised Tommy's shirt, just enough to get his hands underneath. He scratched his fingernails down Tommy's abs, causing Tommy to suck in a sharp breath. Chills covered his body.

Buck kissed Tommy's lips, then his cheek, this nipped at his jawline until he reached his ear. “I wanna to fuck you,” he answered.

They clumsily stumbled into the bedroom, stripping themselves of their clothes before falling onto the bed. “You've been working out a lot,” Buck noted between kisses, hands roaming over Tommy's body.

Tommy pressed himself against Buck, their cocks rubbing together, eliciting a groan from them both.

“There was quite literally nothing else to do,” Tommy replied.

Their bodies moved together so perfectly. Just like always. Like they had never been apart at all.

Tommy sucked on Buck's bottom lip, listening to the stunted gasps that escaped him with every thrust.

“You're so fucking beautiful,” Tommy said breathlessly. He bit at a spot on Buck's neck, Buck's hands tangling in Tommy's hair and tugging firmly.

“Tom- Tommy,” he whimpered out. “You gotta. I wanna- You gotta stop,” he managed to get out.

Tommy whined, but stopped his movements. The sound earned him a laugh from Buck. He caressed Tommy's cheek until he looked at him. “Wanna fuck you, remember? Not gonna last long if- if you keep going.”

Tommy nodded. He was seconds away from coming himself. It was easy to get lost in the feeling with Buck. Easy to lose control.

With one swift movement, Buck flipped them so he was on top. He may not have been working out as much as Tommy over the last few months, but he did have a lot of sessions with a punching bag recently, and right now he felt ready to take on the world.

Buck ran his hand over Tommy's chest, let his fingernails drag over his nipple, Tommy arching into the touch. He felt over every ab, traced Tommy's scar, moved down to his stomach. It was all so torturously slow, but so fucking wonderful.

He kissed his way down Tommy's body, stopping at his cock. He stared up at Tommy with heavy lidded eyes as he spit, letting the drool drip down from his mouth onto the head of Tommy's dick. “The first time I touched myself,” Buck said, finally taking Tommy's cock in his hand, dragging his hand up and down leisurely as Tommy's eyes fluttered shut, “after... you know.”

“Mhm.” Tommy managed to open his eyes again, trying to focus on Buck and his words instead of the warm, wet hand gliding over him.

“I had to stop. I tried to- to touch myself the way you always touched me, but I- I couldn't do it.”

“Oh God, Evan.” Tommy fucked himself into Buck's tight fist. He brought their lips together sloppily. “Wanna touch you like that again.”

Buck nodded. “You will,” he promised. “But not right now. Right now I need to be in you.”

“Please.”

Buck let go of Tommy long enough to reach into the bedside table and grab the lube. He put some on, Tommy spreading his legs as Buck reached down and slowly began inserting his finger.

“Ah,” Tommy gasped. He reached up and pulled Buck down for another kiss as Buck slowly pumped his finger in and out.

“You're so tight,” Buck panted into Tommy's mouth.

“Been a while.” Tommy began to grind down against Buck's finger, moaning loudly when it hit the perfect spot.

“Shit,” Buck whined. “You haven't... You didn't?”

“A finger or two.” Tommy planted his feet on the bed, getting better leverage to work himself up and down on Buck. “A- Another, Evan, please.”

Buck obliged, adding another finger along the first, eliciting a string of curses from Tommy.

“Fuck, fuck, fucking shit! It was never the same,” he added quickly, going back to the conversation. “Didn't- God, didn't feel like this. Evan, more!”

Buck silenced a moan with his mouth as he added a third finger, grinding his cock against Tommy's thigh. He knew he wasn't gonna last long. Knew Tommy wouldn't either. It didn't matter though. They had plenty of time to make up for what was lost.

“I- I'm ready. Just... I need-”

“I know.” Another kiss and Buck slipped his fingers out of Tommy. Tommy grabbed the lube from the side of the bed and tossed it in Buck's direction, getting a laugh out of him.

Soon enough, Buck had Tommy's legs on his shoulders and his cock was slowly, slowly, so fucking slowly, entering Tommy.

They stared into each others eyes, Tommy slack-jawed with tiny, breathy grunts escaping him every time Buck inched closer.

After what felt like an eternity, Buck bottomed out. He stilled, breathing heavily. “I gotta. Just. I need a second.”

“S'okay.” Tommy reached out and grabbed for Buck's hands, which were currently gripping Tommy's thighs. “S'okay,” he repeated.

A few seconds later, Buck began to move.

Slowly at first, letting Tommy get used to the feeling again. Hell, letting him get used to the feeling again.

“Ev- ah- Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“I- ah- I. I need-”

“What? What do- do you need?”

“Oh shit!" Tommy yelled as Buck snapped his hips forward. "Fuck me, Evan!”

That was all Buck needed to hear. He pushed himself up slightly, to get a better position, and began moving faster, faster, faster, harder, harder, harder. Each thrust pulled a new sound out of Tommy. Low, guttural groans.

The sound of their skin slapping together, the feeling of the sweat covering their bodies, the heat between them, the desperation over all they thought they'd lost.

It was too much.

“Evan, I- I'm gonna come.” He'd never been able to come untouched before. Always needed a hand on his cock to get there. Not this time though. He came with a sound so loud, Buck was sure the neighbors at the other end of the street could hear.

Tommy's legs dropped off of Buck's shoulders, but he quickly wrapped them around his back to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

“Tommy,” Buck gasped, each movement now with far less rhythm. “Tommy, i- is this real?”

Tommy pulled Buck closer, his fingernails digging into Buck's back. He moaned as Buck drove in deeper. “It's- I'm real,” he managed to breathe out. “I'm here, Evan.”

Buck groaned loudly, mouth pressed close to Tommy's ear, coming deep inside him. After a couple lighter, gentler thrusts, Buck stopped. He practically dropped all his body weight on top of Tommy. Tommy kept his legs wrapped tightly around him. Neither could seem to let the other go just yet.

Buck hid his head into Tommy's neck. “I missed you so much,” he whimpered out, both men trying to catch their breath. Tommy could feel the wetness of Buck's tears on his neck. “God, I- I missed you.”

Tommy brought his hands to Buck's head, carding his fingers through his hair. “I missed you every damn second of every damn day,” he replied.

After they cleaned up, Buck curled back into Tommy, intertwining their bodies at every point he could manage. Tommy wrapped Buck into his arms, and Buck laid his head on Tommy's chest. They laid in silence for a while, allowing themselves to feel and be felt for the first time in so long.

Buck was the first to break the silence, letting the words fall out like a secret admission. “John came to the house the day after you went missing. They... They said your car had been in an accident. That you, um, that it had caught on fire w- with you inside.”

Tommy's body stiffened underneath him. “Baby, if... if I'd known-”

“I know,” Buck assured him. He ran his hand up and down over Tommy's chest until he relaxed again. “I know it wasn't you.”

“I'm gonna ask John if he still has my letters,” Tommy said.

“You really wrote me letters?” Buck asked, stealing a glance up at Tommy.

“Mhm. I'm sure they all thought I was an absolute idiot, especially seeing as it was all a lie, but yeah, every week.”

Buck pressed a kiss to Tommy's pec before lying back down. “I hope they exist somewhere. I'd love to read them.”

“They were really fucking depressing. Turns out I don't handle being without you very well.”

“Oh, you should've seen me.” Buck traced circle patterns along Tommy's chest. “This was the first month I started trying. Trying to get back out and do things with people... I'm glad I don't have to try anymore.”

“That's probably something we should talk about, especially with our jobs.” He snuggled further under the covers, wrapping Buck even tighter in his arms. “Not tonight though.”

“No, not tonight,” Buck agreed.

They still had a lot to talk about. A lot of things that had to be sorted. Questions that needed answers. Issues that would need to be resolved.

But, for tonight, the only thing they needed was each other.

Each other, and the first good night's sleep for them both since the day Tommy disappeared.

That night, once sleep took over, Buck dreamt.

[thelikesofus]

just hold on until the sun comes up tomorrow | Buddie Heart Eyes Fic Exchange 2025

Buddie | 2k | Only One Bed, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Nightmares, Post Shooting

This was written for AO3 User JJK | Read on AO3

“Buck,” Eddie says Buck’s name like a promise, like a prayer. “You're having nightmares and I'm not sleeping. If we're both going to be awake all night we might as well be awake together.” OR Why should either of them have to face the darkness alone when they have each other?

Shadows creep up his bedroom walls like ghosts peering into the darkest corners of his solitude. Logically Eddie knows that their spiny fingers are just the cast of the tree branches outside his window blocking the moonlight. Logically he knows he's not really alone. Christopher is sleeping soundly in his room, and Buck is just down the hall on the couch where he has taken vigilant post since Eddie came home from the hospital. The text messages and call logs from Hen, Chimney, and Bobby in his phone on the nightstand are a testament to the strong and loving support system he is so grateful to have. Yet the hollow feeling persists.

Ironically, he feels like something has blown a hole straight through him and left his insides open, exposed. While the gauze and waddling and tiny bottles of even tinier pills are working just as they should to heal the physical wounds inflicted on him by a disgruntled stranger in the broad daylight of the streets of Los Angeles, they do very little to soothe the sharpest pain the bullet left behind. 

Ever since he woke up in the hospital, and the relief of being alive—and seeing that Buck was too—had dissipated, this ache had overwhelmed him at the thought of how close he had come to losing all of this. Sometimes he feels like he is walking around in some kind of dream state, a warped reality in some horrible limbo between life and death. But then he’ll lift his arm too far and his shoulder will shock him with a sharp bolt of pain, or Christopher will snuggle in closely to his good side on the couch and he’ll feel his son’s chest expanding and contracting against his own. The rhythm of it is grounding.

Then, sometimes Buck will look at him like he’s seeing a ghost and for a moment Eddie will feel like one too, but then Buck will smile at him, that small, quirk of his lips, and his mouth will soften at the corners and his eyes will well a little like he just so grateful to see Eddie at all. In those moments Eddie feels almost whole again.

The stillness of the room is shattered by a sharp yelp from down the hall. At first, Eddie thinks it’s Christopher and he sits up so fast that he lets out a yelp of his own, his shoulder protesting at the sudden shift. Then a second sound follows, low and guttural and full of panic and anguish. 

Buck. 

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