#hen wilson fic

[achilles-rage]

guys please help!!!

i wanna maybe do some short hc’s about a 118 band au to get back into writing (based on this pic), but i can’t figure out what dynamic i like more!! i love buck as the drummer, and chim on the bass/keyboard, but idk who should be the front man/woman😵‍💫😵‍💫

[apollabarnes]

transfers are(n't) for kids

it was hard to stop a train once it got started. buck still wasn't sure he wanted to. 8x18 coda. canon compliant? pardon the terrible trix joke, it amused me.

"Han!" The bellow shook the station. "Get your scrawny ass down here right now."

Chimney put his coffee cup down slowly, dusting off his pants. "'Scuse me, everybody," he said calmly. "I heard my name."

Hen snorted into her drink. "Bakersfield heard your name," she said, abandoning the table and heading for the railing. "This should be good."

Buck hesitated for a beat longer than everyone else, only moving when Ravi knocked his hand against Buck's shoulder. He hovered a step behind Ravi, worried that if he got too close to the front the two of them would notice him and the argument would escalate.

"So," the enormous man on the apparatus floor said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You want to explain why, on the day my new transfer's supposed to be starting, I get a call from the Chief saying whoopsie?"

"I was short a guy, turns out. Buck agreed to cancel the transfer," Chim said easily, tipping his chin up and meeting the other man's stare.

Ravi turned to Buck, his eyebrows jumping up. "That's you," he mouthed, pointing at the showdown. Buck elbowed Ravi cautiously, grinning when he shoved back at him.

"Bullshit, Howie. We both know you're not good at keeping yourself on the sidelines. And I'm down two guys — or gals, Wilson — so you can get yourself to the back of the line."

"Today was supposed to be your last day?" Ravi whispered, not looking away from the floor.

Buck shrugged. When Chim had asked for, and gotten, the captaincy it just seemed easier to give him time to grow into the role without having to train someone new at the same time. Besides, if the station was just a number now, it wasn't like going somewhere else was going to mean he'd be somewhere more like Bobby's station. At least here he had Ravi to partner up with.

"Who's that?" Buck asked Ravi, leaning in close. He hadn't paid much attention, or asked too many questions, when he'd handed in his transfer paperwork. The Chief had told him he'd send the assignment along when it was figured out, but then Buck had pulled his name from consideration and… well, it hadn't mattered then.

"Deluca, 122. You really don't do the whole firehouse gossip thing, do you?" Ravi asked him, amused.

"I mean the fun stuff, sure. Rodriguez over at the 126 ended up going to a furry convention by 'accident'," Buck told Ravi, waggling his eyebrows.

"He used to work with Chimney and Hen back in the day," Ravi continued, making a face at him.

"Huh." Buck inched closer to the railing, peering over it. Deluca wasn't menacing Chim, exactly, but he did have enough height on him that there was some looming going on. He might even have a little height on Buck. "He looks… tall."

"Chim's compact," Hen said easily, knocking her arm against Buck's gently. "But he's scrappy. He's got this."

Deluca lowered his voice and kept going, gesticulating wildly at Chim's equally quiet response. Buck found himself wishing they were still bellowing. He couldn't help but feel a little invested in what appeared to be a fight over himself. He wasn't sure who he wanted to win.

"Do not make me arm wrestle—" Deluca's voice rose, amused, before dipping low again.

"Don't do it, Chim!" Hen hollered.

Sal and Chimney both glanced up at that, seemingly realizing that everyone on shift was paying rapt attention to what was going on. Buck was pretty sure the only thing that would break their concentration was the bell or a knock down drag out argument in the loft. He found himself glancing over at Eddie, sighing when he kept his eyes focused forwards.

"That doesn't seem very ride or die," Ravi said smugly, shuffling closer to Buck. He knocked their shoulders together and Buck grinned tiredly at him.

"Sal held the station record for almost a decade," Hen shot back. "It's very ride or die to make sure Chim doesn't embarrass himself."

Chimney stepped towards Sal, making him take a step back. Buck held his breath, looking between them as they kept talking, volleying back and forth. "Does this feel like a tennis game to anyone else?" Buck wondered quietly.

"Fine," Chim snapped his gum, irritated. "But only until your chicken pox epidemic clears up."

"Pleasure doing business," Sal drawled, draping an arm over Howie's shoulders. "Buckley, grab your gear. We're headed out." He looked up to the loft, finding Buck immediately. Buck blinked, taking half a step back before he stopped. Obviously he would have gotten Buck's file from the chief, it wasn't weird that he could pick Buck out of a crowd.

Hen squeezed Buck's hand, her mouth pursed in a frown. "Hang in there, Buck. He's not as cranky as he sounds. Promise."

"The rest of you, what are you, new? No one taught you how to eavesdrop stealthily? Come on, that's embarrassing."

The bell went off.

Sal gestured to Buck, loping up the loft stairs after everyone had cleared out. The silence hung between them, muffling the sound of the disappearing sirens. Sal caved first, taking a deep breath. Buck smirked, just a little.

"Who really cancelled the transfer?" Sal asked, eyeing him up and down.

Buck shrugged. It wasn't as if it mattered. He was here at the 118 with everyone else.

"Your brother-in-law got captain and asked you to stay, so you did. Noble, but," Sal headed into the kitchen, picking through one of the boxes of doughnuts that Ravi had brought in, grabbing one for himself. "Howie can handle himself. I, however, need someone to hold my hand," Sal continued, taking an enormous bite out of it. Buck stared at the smear of powdered sugar on his cheek.

"Uh, you have a little something just… yeah." Buck nodded, watching Sal grab a napkin. "This the kind of hand holding you're looking for?"

"Okay, not into metaphors. I didn't mean literally, but I had a guy leave and then three of my squad go down with the pox in rapid succession. So. Arm Wrestle Mania 25 commenced."

"You didn't arm wrestle Chim," Buck said, feeling off-kilter. He wasn't sure what Captain Sal Deluca, 122, wanted from him, but he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be able to make it happen.

"Hell no, I'd probably break his wrist and he's got a baby to hold. Nah, Wrestle Mania was with the other stations that needed staffing."

"Multiple stations arm wrestled. Over avoiding having to take me," Buck said flatly. "I'm honoured."

"Oh, you misunderstand. Everyone wanted you." Sal finished off his doughnut, looking back in the box. "What the hell." He took another. "You got a car here?"

Buck shook his head. "Yearly service. I got a ride."

"Perfect. Grab your shit, let's blow this pop stand."

Buck trailed him back down the stairs, emptying his locker out on autopilot. "Wait — multiple stations wanted me?"

"Yeah, but I'm bigger and scarier so I won." Sal looked over his shoulder, frowning at the expression on Buck's face. "You're surprised."

"The, uh, the lawsuit, I thought…" Buck shrugged. "Kind of a liability."

"Once in nine years? Hell, Buckley, if you were gonna be a pest about it, there'd be more than one. Personally, I would have sued a few times — the hell was that heist accusation about? Or the lightning? Or hey, leaving your captain to rot at the bottom of the ocean because there wasn't enough proof they were out there." That last one came with air quotes and startled a laugh out of Buck.

"It wasn't a nuisance lawsuit, and honestly, a bunch of us tore a strip off the union for not taking care of it before it got that far," Sal continued, opening the trunk of the captain's truck. "In here. You've got one of the best records from both trips through the academy, you've pulled off some crazy ass rescues, and you're basically fearless. Seeing your name on the transfer list had me racing Mehta to the Chief's office."

"Oh. Uh. Thanks, I guess?" Buck said, trailing behind him. He dumped his bags, sliding into the passenger seat when Sal went for the driver's.

"Yeah, no problem. Like I said, not a hardship." Sal waited until Buck was settled before flipping his phone into Buck's lap. "Can you type a reply to that? We public servants should be safe drivers, and all," he added, winking at Buck.

"Sure, uh — the contact name is a donkey emoji?" Buck squinted at the phone. "Are you sure you want to give me your lock code five minutes after we met?"

"There isn't one; I do this a lot. Just open and start typing what I say. The donkey is because he's being a jackass. He can get his contact information back when he gets his head screwed on straight — I do want you typing that, Buckley."

"Oh, right, got it." Buck quirked an eyebrow, typing quickly.

"Had to steal my new transfer back, on the road, Gina says you need to come for dinner soon, uh," Sal tapped his fingers against the wheel, coming to a stop at the red light. "What was his question, again?"

"If you wanted to go to the game tomorrow? What game?"

Sal looked sideways at him. "Angels. Jackass and I split a couple seats with a group, but since we organized it we get to dibs the good games. Not that there are many, because they're the fucking Angels. But it's that or the National League and fuck that," He paused. "What do you prefer, by the way? Buckley? Buck? It's Evan, yeah?"

Buck shrugged. Maybe it was time to try out a new one. New house, new name, new… attitude? Maybe. Bobby had thought his attitude was good, it was just everyone else that seemed to have a problem with it these days. "Really not picky. I'll answer to anything."

"Okay, we'll let Ferb at ya when we get there. Not his actual name, he just likes the cartoon. —Can't make the game, covering for B shift, fucking pox, Stella is in her sports phase again — that's my kid, jackass is her godfather, or would be if either of us were into that kind of crap — if he wants to take her for some quality bonding time."

"He's asking who the transfer is."

Sal snorted. "You can probably answer that one without my help."

Buck cracked a grin at that, typing out his name and station. The response came back immediately and Buck frowned down at the phone. "He says sure and he's gotta go."

"Yeah, he hates when I dictate to someone else." Sal shrugged. "Dickhead. It's not like I'm sharing private information out loud."

"Well, so far I know that he's a jackass and he's your daughter's uncle, so. How private does he think that information is?"

"Sometimes I think he hates it when folks know his last name," Sal cackled. He pulled into the station parking lit, popping the trunk. "We can get you set up at Jonesy's locker for now — he's the one that left." He paused. "They're gonna be loud."

Sal hopped out of the truck and hoisted both of Buck's bags over his shoulder before Buck could get out of his seat. He waved Buck off when he tried to take one. "I got this, relax kid. Buckle up."

They walked into whoops and cheers from the loft, the entire shift hanging over the railing. One of the younger firefighters climbed onto the bottom rung of the railing and leaned forward, warbling "All hail the conquering hero!" as they passed the back of the engine. He got yanked back before he could fall by a guy Buck's age, laughing.

"All right, all right, shut up," Sal called, pointing up at the loft. "This is Buckley, nickname to be determined. I had to arm wrestle my way to the front of the line for him, unlike you jokers, so if anyone scares him off…" Sal trailed off threateningly.

"You like hash brown casserole?"

"I've got a fifty-point nickname survey!"

"Ferb, Sal just said don't scare him away!"

"Nerds," Sal said to Buck, his voice fond. "Give him a minute to get settled! Then you can all start asking him about himself. We've got a month, so pace yourselves."

[chronicowboy]

"Lot of things wrong with the world right now, but Eddie Diaz on my doorstep isn't one of them," Hen says when she opens the door.

"Hey, Hen." The last time he'd said that neither of them could manage more than a tight-lipped nod, the weight of dress uniform and black suit alike weighing them down, now however, their smiles bloom in unison—not quite easy except for the way that it always is with Hen.

As she beams up at him, Eddie's hit by just how much he's missed her. Hadn't really had the time to think about it before. Not with parents and Christopher and Uber passengers and Buck to occupy his time. On her birthday, he'd wanted so badly to hug her tight and tell her the world got a little brighter the day she was born even if he wasn't there to see it, he just knows. And then, well, Bobby had died and there hadn't been room to miss anyone but him really.

The ache of missing Henrietta Wilson is sudden and fierce in the presence of her steady warmth.

She pulls him into a hug right there on the doorstep, and Eddie wraps her in his arms without hesitation, screwing his eyes shut when she squeezes him extra tight. Eddie lets her draw back, lets her sad eyes pin him in place.

"Want some tea?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.

"I'd love some." And he tries not to think about it. Really he does. How tea is halfway between water and juice. Hot water infused with dried fruit. A subpar substitute. A stepping stone maybe.

Hen closes the door behind him, and he follows her into the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop to watch her careful dance with the kettle. She fetches two mugs from the cabinet and pulls out the tea caddy Buck had found in an antique store two 118 Secret Santas ago. She waves it under his nose as the kettle starts to whistle.

"Pick your poison," she tells him, drifting back towards the stovetop.

He rifles through the neatly stacked packages until his eye catches on a red-orange square. He plucks it from the tin and brings it up to his nose, inhaling the sweet citrusy scent of it. Blood orange and cranberry. Just like Buck's shower gel.

The sound of a cup hitting the table brings him out of his stupor, and Eddie flushes, offering the tin to Hen. She takes one at random, ripping it open and dropping it into her water. Eddie sits down next to her and tears his own teabag open, drowning it in boiling water.

"How are you?" he asks as their teas steep.

"I'm okay." She nods, smiling at him tight-lipped. "Lung's all healed up, and I'm cleared for full duty again."

Eddie shoots her a deadpan look.

"That's not what I was asking and you know it."

Hen rolls her eyes, but they don't come back to Eddie, they stay in some faraway corner of the room, somewhere Eddie wouldn't be able to find if he tried, somewhere Eddie knows more intimately than most.

"I'm getting through, Eddie." She sighs, shrugs. "I don't really know what else there is to do."

"Yeah." Eddie nods down at his cup. "I know what you mean."

"What about you?" she asks gently, ducking to catch his eye. "Getting through?"

"Most of the time." Eddie purses his lips, shakes his head. "I keep trying to convince myself that it's not my fault." He wraps his hands around his mug then, the burn of it grounding him in the moment.

"Eddie."

"No, I know." He huffs, rolls his eyes at himself. "Rationally, I know. But I can't shake the thought that I could have—I might have been able to change things."

"That's a little insulting, Eddie," she mumbles. Eddie's eyes jump up from the ruddy orange depths of his tea, startled into confrontation by the words.

"What?"

"You don't think we were enough?" She raises an eyebrow at him. "Don't think we could have stopped it, saved him, if we'd known?" She ploughs on, ignoring the way his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. "Or do you just think you're more observant than the rest of us?"

"No, of course not."

"Then what the hell could you have done?" There's something about the way she says it. Something about the gentle chiding, the chastising softness, the firmness of her care, that reminds him of Bobby. Of a captain. Of Henrietta Wilson. The effect of it is dizzying, sobering.

"I don't know," he admits, shoulders hunching, defeated by harsh reality and hypotheticals alike. "I just." His voice breaks, and Eddie takes a sip of tea to wash the cracks away, barely winces at the burn of it. "Ever since Buck called me, I can't stop thinking about—"

"The what ifs?" she asks quietly. Eddie nods. "Yeah, I know a little something about that."

Eddie hates himself then. Just as fiercely as he had when Buck's ragged voice had come down the line all those weeks ago. What are his what ifs compared to those of the people who were there? Who were close enough to do something about it but still so far, too far?

He takes another sip of his tea. Remembers why he's here.

"Like what if you were captain?" he chances, raising an innocent eyebrow. The look Hen turns on him then is harrowing, flat and unimpressed and just a slight bit daring.

"How did you find out?"

"Through the grapevine." He shrugs.

"And which grape told you?" she deadpans. Eddie hides his smile in his tea.

"Well, Athena told Karen and Karen told Chimney and Chimney told Maddie and Maddie told Buck and—"

"And Buck told you," Hen says, sighs maybe, doesn't ask, like it's that obvious, like it was inevitable. Eddie ducks his head, heat creeping into his cheeks, hiding from whatever emotion has stolen into Hen's expression. He shrugs again. "I should've known." She takes a sip of her tea, digs a fingernail into the grain of the table. "How is he? Buck?" And this question. This was inevitable too. Eddie exhales a pained breath.

"I wish I knew." He shakes his head, runs a hand through his hair, thinks about the note waiting for him on the coffee table when he'd woken up that morning—gone to help Maddie and Chim with the nursery, breakfast's in the oven :). "He won't talk about it. Not in any real way." Thinks about how Buck had locked himself in his room the night of the funeral, how he hadn't come out until the next morning, how Eddie had found him bouncing between five separate prep stations in the kitchen, how he'd been out the door before Eddie could ask how he was. "All he does is run around after everyone else." Thinks about the night Eddie had fallen apart on the couch, and Buck had held him through it like it wasn't his grief to share. "I feel like I see him less now than I did when I was in El Paso."

"Yeah." Hen's eyes fall to the table, a furrow appearing between her eyebrows. "Maddie said he's been doing his therapy, engaging with it well, but I think Buck's always been better at locking things away than most of us like to think."

"It's only the easy emotions he wears on his sleeve," Eddie mumbles absentmindedly. "I normally have to work to drag the bad ones out into the open."

Silence stretches between them, heavy and taut, long enough that Eddie's eyes pick their way back to Hen's face. He almost flinches at the expression there. Something knowing and confused at the same time, something tight in her eyes and loose around her mouth, something relieved and pained all at once.

"No luck yet?" she asks eventually. It feels like more than it is. He shakes his head slowly.

"I keep trying, but he just... Tells me that he's handling it. That I don't have to worry about him, and I should focus on myself for once." He scoffs, bites at the inside of his cheek. "That's not how we work, and he knows it." Eddie doesn't look at Hen this time, keeps his gaze trained on the teabag wilting in the bottom of his cup. "God, Hen, I can't stop hearing his voice on the phone that night." His voice comes out quiet, broken. Not what Buck's had been: loud and jagged. A great choking, hiccupping sound that Eddie wasn't even sure you could call a voice. "He could barely speak. He kept apologising over and over, and I was eight-hundred miles away and I couldn't do anything."

"Well." Hen grabs his hand, squeezes once, so he glances over at her. "You're not eight-hundred miles away now, so what are you gonna do about it?"

Eddie pauses. Stills. Thinks about how the grief had fallen on him like a tonne of bricks when Buck had broken the news. How he'd thought he'd never be able to get up off the ground. How he'd thought he'd stay buried there in the middle of his fucking living room for the rest of his life. How Buck had called him every day, digging Eddie out brick by brick. How Buck had carried them all for Eddie.

And he thinks too of how many other bricks Buck must be carrying. Wants to takes them all off his back with gentle hands. Wants to dab antiseptic into his abrasions. Wants to wrap him up in a hug. Wants to divvy the bricks up between them equally, carry them together. Together. Always together.

"I'm gonna be here," he says, resolute. Lets certainty fill him for the first time since he'd walked into his parents' house to pack Christopher's bag. "I'm gonna be here to catch him when he falls."

"Yeah, I thought so." Hen smiles at him, and it's a small thing, but the pride in it is overwhelming. "Families can only survive for so long apart."

And that's it, isn't it? Buck is family. Not the one he chose. That was Hen and Chimney and Bobby. But Buck is the family he built—they built.

"Speaking of..." Hen drawls, eyes evasive, glinting with something. "The 118 is still waiting for you to come home."

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, quirking a smile.

"Yeah. They've been missing you." She nods seriously. "Got a place carved out for you and everything."

"You know, that's something only a captain could promise."

"Well, how about that." Hen grins, all mischief and mystery.

Eddie shakes his head and huffs a laugh.

"Henrietta Wilson, always three steps ahead."

[dumbass-hyperfixations]

The text comes at 9:07.

Eddie: Happy birthday, Hen! Hope you have a good one :)

Hen smiles down at her phone as she sets down her bag in the locker room. Someone really ought to teach that man how to use emojis (seriously, is he secretly 50?), but the text warms her heart too much to be bothered by it. At least someone remembered, even from another state. She’ll take the typed out smiley emoticon as a win.

Hen: Thanks Eddie 🥳 how are you doing?

Eddie: Almost done fixing up my house and making small breakthroughs with Chris every day. But I’m sure Buck’s keeping you all updated. How about you? Any big plans today?

Hen: I’m sure it’s going great, we’re all rooting for you ❤️ and yes, Buck’s giving us all the updates, hasn’t shut up about you since you left 😂

Hen: No big plans today, though. Shift, then takeout for dinner.

Eddie: Not even cake? You’re breaking my heart :(

Hen sighs. She’s breaking her own heart over this silly little thing. She feels ridiculous, being so excited and then so disappointed over such a small thing. She scoffs as she kicks off her shoes and shakes off her jacket before answering Eddie.

Hen: I guess I’m just not in the mood this year. Maybe Karen and I will get dinner over the weekend.

Eddie: Oh, Buck and I tried this great Italian place the night before my last shift at the 118! You should ask him for details, their spaghetti bolognese was amazing :D

Well, definitely not doing that. Not while Buck and the rest of the 118 are being excited over a different H.E.N. in their lives right now. Another thing she’s ridiculously jealous of today: firefighting gadgets. And the way Eddie isn’t able to keep Buck out of their conversation even for a second. She bets Buck never forgets his birthday.

Hen: Thanks, I appreciate the tip 🤗

Eddie: Anytime. Hope you have a great day :)

Yeah, Hen thinks. Against all odds, she hopes so, too.

***

Another text comes around at 14:32, while Hen is taking a break on the roof after that call for Archie, the self-proclaimed invisible man.

Eddie: Hey, just got off the phone with Buck. I’m sorry those dummies forgot your birthday :(

Despite it all, Hen chuckles.

Hen: Don’t be acting like you didn’t remember just because of the Facebook alert. I know you well, Diaz 😉

Eddie: Guilty. Still sent the text though!

Eddie: And I know it sucks, but just remember that they still love you. We all do. Probably gonna be making it up to you for a week. I’ll bet you 10 bucks Chim’s gonna send you balloons. Maybe even a serenading mariachi band.

She snorts into her phone.

Hen: Oh god, I hope not. Haven’t I suffered enough?

Eddie: True. You can always guilt-trip Buck into doing yard work for you, though. He’s pretty handy with that. Kind of wish he was here now, helping me around the house.

Yeah, she bets he does. God, those two are so sickeningly codependent. She’s gonna have to hold an intervention one of these days.

Hen: He’s been giving me THE WORST puppy eyes since they realized they forgot. Could probably make him wash the cars too.

Eddie: Yeah, saw ‘em. He called me all sad, asking about your favourite pie. If you don’t talk to him soon, your house is going to look like a bakery display for a week.

Hen: Thanks for the tip. I DO NOT need my kids on a sugar high after all of this 😂

Eddie: At least they remembered, right? And Karen?

Hen: LOL. Mara dressed up real cute. Not for mama though, for picture day 💔 and Karen at least noticed my (very very nice) birthday outfit, but didn’t connect the dots.

Eddie: Ouch

Hen: Yup. I guess she forgot because of the kids’ schedules. Still hurts, though. There’s usually not a thing missing from her trusty planner.

Eddie: I guess she figured she’ll remember. You guys have celebrated how many thousand birthdays together now? She probably just got too confident in her ability to remember everything she loves about you.

She tries to scoff, but it comes out a little wet. Of course, he’s right. And Karen’s gonna feel so bad when she realizes.

Hen: Damn you for being right.

Hen: I’m gonna be angry with you about that, because you and Athena are the only two people I can’t be mad about missing my birthday.

Eddie: Hahaha sure, if it makes you feel better! Gotta go now, getting ready for work.

Hen: I still can’t believe I’m gonna walk back down to the loft and not see you on shift with us 😔 your talents are being wasted in that Uber

Eddie: Don’t I know it :( take care, Hen. And make Buck your gardener! I’ll be expecting pics.

Hen: 🤔🤔 starting to think gardener Buck is more of a gift for you than it is for me…

What can she say, even in her desperate sorrows, she loves making fun of the whole BuckandEddie thing, no matter how platonic it might be.

The answer is immediate.

Eddie: I’ve gotten tired of all the cooking/baking photos Maddie keeps sending me. He needs new hobbies.

Hen: How many of those do you have?????

Eddie: So many.

Eddie: Save them all, though. I like seeing him happy.

Eddie: He is happy, right? Not just putting a brave face for me every time I call?

Well. She can’t even make fun of that.

Hen: Ever seen those videos of amputated dogs that are learning to move around with prosthetics?

Eddie: Yeah?

Hen: Looks kind of like that. Happy, but still getting used to those wheels instead of legs ❤️

Hen: (The amputated legs are you. And the wheels are all those six thousand two hundred and twenty-two FaceTime calls you’re having on and off shift.)

Eddie: Yeah, I got that. It’s the same for me, really.

Eddie: Really gotta go now. Let me know if Chim sends you balloons!

***

At 21:20, Hen’s the one to send the text.

Hen: [image attached]

Hen: I actually got those fucking balloons. Are you psychic?

Hen: Also featuring chocolates from Bobby.

Eddie: Ha! Not psychic, he’s just predictable.

Hen: LOL, that he is. The worst part is that I actually kind of love them.

Eddie: Not seeing 10 different pies on the table, though. Master baker crisis averted?

Hen: Not yet, but he acted like an awkward butler around me for the rest of the shift. Needed some time to cool off, but I’ll ask him tomorrow.

She sets the phone down and opens the basket of chocolates. There’s a note inside with yet another apology, a birthday wish, and a promise of homemade dinner on their next 48 off. I am loved, I am loved, I am loved, I am loved. She thinks the words on a loop in her head, intending on doing so until she believes then again. God, today sucks.

Her phone pings again, Eddie’s contact illuminated on the screen.

Eddie: I just realized. We have never texted as much as we did today.

Surprised, Hen snorts out a laugh.

Hen: That can’t be right. We’ve known each other for well over 7 years now.

Eddie: I’m serious! Check our previous messages.

And Hen does. The last text before today was a few months ago, when she wished him a happy birthday during their 96 off, to which he responded with a simple thank you. Before that, a bunch of school-related email screenshots and links, mixed in with some carpool-themed “I’ll be there in 15!”s and some Denny and Chris sleepover related negotiations. Each short text thread at least a few days, if not weeks apart. Wow.

Hen: LOL, are we even friends 😂

Eddie: Right?! Like, I know we are, but we have absolutely no way of proving it.

Hen: I’m blaming it on the twelve hundred groupchats the Buckleys have created over the years.

Eddie: Seconded! Why do we need one for every get-together? The original groupchat is fine.

“Mama?” Hen looks up to see Mara standing in the doorway, looking a little unsure of herself.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Mom’s calling you for dinner,” Mara says. “Or, she’s asking if you feel like joining us.”

Hen sighs and stands up. To her surprise, the weight of her chest is lifted somewhat. She didn’t even notice that she calmed down and switched her mood during their chat.

“Of course, I’m coming,” she says and hugs Mara again for good measure before they head to the kitchen. Just to let her know nothing is wrong, that she’s not mad at her. Or anyone, in fact. This stuff happens. I am loved, I am loved, I am loved.

After dinner, she sends Eddie the picture of the cake Mara and Denny brought her.

Hen: [image attached]

Hen: Got the cake after all ❤️🎂

Hen: Thanks for today ❤️

Eddie: Looks good! And, anytime :D

[jackwhiteprophetic]

Board games that have been banned at the 118 and why:

MONOPOLY: Ravi kept talking about real estate, Chim made an awkward lawsuit joke when Eddie got sent to jail and Buck kept demanding he be allowed to pay the bail.

SETTLERS OF CATAN: Buck and Eddie just simply end up sharing all their resources because they can't say no to each other. Buck said "thanks I'm so bricked up now" after Eddie traded him bricks once and Bobby threw the board off of the loft balcony.

CLUEDO: Chim has NO poker face (poker is ironically also banned after an LAFD wide notice was sent around following the poker date) and Bobby kept trying to call Athena for tips.

UNO: No one could agree on the rules and Hen ended up trying to use the official Uno twitter posts as proof and Bobby stormed off. On a second attempt, Chim started a +2 chain that went around the group twice and ended up with him having to pick up +16 cards, and as revenge he said the Q-word. Bobby burned the pack at the next group barbecue.

PICTIONARY- Eddie and Hen are too good at it because they've had to spend recent years deciphering their kids' drawings.

They also tried to do heads up but Buck didn't know any of the films and Eddie refused to use a phone for a "board game".

PLEASE ADD MORE IDEAS THIS IS SO FUN

Also thank you to @wayfarers0 @eddiesfagstache @blue-desert13 AND THE OTHER AMAZING EDDIEBUDDIEBLR PEOPLE I LOVE YOU ALL

[sarahsmi13s]

Fever Dream

pairing: evan buckley x nash!reader

characters: evan 'buck' buckley, nash!reader, bobby nash, athena grant

warnings: CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR 8.15, mentions of religion, blood, panic attack, nightmare, major character death, xreader (this is how i'm coping okay?), i'm delulu and gonna feed my fellow fandom siblings delusions, if i missed any please let me know!

word count: ~2.1k

a/n: as mentioned in the warnings, this contains spoilers for episode 15 so please if you don't want spoilers don't read. i wrote this simply because is how i'm choosing to cope until the next episode airs. i hope everyone out there is doing okay (in a general sense, i know so many of us are fucking mad). i hope this can help feed delusions or just maybe bring comfort.

summary: being separated from your team, your family, is hard enough... add in a deadly super virus and cctv cameras to give you a perfect view of them, and it's going to haunt you in ways you may never expect

Your fingers dug into Buck’s turn out. Your shaking and gasping cries merged with his screams, desperate prayers vibrating against his arm.

His throat hurt. It was raw and felt like it was bleeding, a metallic taste building up on his tongue. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

This couldn’t be it. This can’t be happening. Bobby’s not supposed to die.

No! No… Bobby was fine. He had been right behind Buck as they were leaving. He made it out. 

He was walking and talking, barking out orders like it was breathing.

Bobby was breathing.

Now…  Now he was what?

Now he was pacing around a room, alone. Professing his love to Athena and pleading with her to believe he didn’t want this. He was using every ounce of his strength to fight away any doubt in her heart. He was apologizing. Buck could still hear how he apologized to you as you were drug away from your attempts to pry the door open. 

Now he was crawling on the floor, his organs beginning to fail as he coughed up blood – red splatters decorating the ash covered floor. He was sweating, body feverish as his immune system kept trying to save him.

But nothing can save him…

Now he’s dying. Praying on his knees until blood filled his mouth like a fatal elixir, a final communion. Blood was coating his tongue and teeth, staining his lips crimson as his head fell to the table and his chest slowed to a stop.

Now he was in a body bag… and Buck-

– jolted awake, a raw cry straining his vocal cords as he gripped the duvet in his lap.

“Buck? Buck! Evan!” He knew that voice – that soft, gentle voice. “Hey, hey, baby it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Gentle and warm hands cradled his face, tilting it up as thumbs wiped the tears away. He can barely make out anything through the tears and the panic scrambling his brain.

But those eyes… He knows those eyes. They’re safe. They’re home.

They’re you.

His entire body was shaking. Sweat dripped down his back, leaving goosebumps as the AC cooled his hot skin. Tears shone on his face in the dim lamplight, more spilling over his lash line to pool on your thumbs. His chest ached, it felt like he was trying suck in air from an empty oxygen tank.

“Breathe, Ev’. Breathe for me.”

He hit his chest to communicate that he was trying. Each gulp of air wheezed into his windpipe, barely giving him enough to speak. “I-I can’t…”

You nodded, moving his arms around you and pressing his hands flat against your back. “You can. You just gotta follow me, baby.”

He tried, he really tried. But his chest felt too tight, air snagged in his throat, scraping along what felt like open wounds lining his esophagus. All before getting forced out in broken, strangled sobs.

You only smiled softly at him, the expression warm and encouraging. Your thumbs brushed his cheeks gently, being careful not to rub his cheeks raw as your exhales cooled them. His hands were desperate and hard on your back, gripping at your sleep shirt as he tried to follow your breathing.

Neither of you knew how long it took before his chest expanded fully again. A full breath of air, accented by the scent of your shampoo, filled his lungs. He swallowed, nodding against you as he began to calm down.

You tilted your head, the movement small as you pushed his curl back from his damp forehead. There was no doubt this panic attack was the result of a nightmare. They weren’t uncommon in this line of work, but only a few brought on panic attacks.

Your hand rested at the back of his head, the other gently resting on the side of his neck. “What happened, Buck? What did you see?”

The question made his throat cinch up again, fresh waves of tears falling down his cheeks. He opened his mouth and the words tumbled out in broken, sob-ridden babbles.

You gently shushed him after a few moments, soothing the ache with the tender caress of your hands carding through his hair. His tears are hot against your skin as you tilted his chin up with your thumb. “Sweetheart, I need you to slow down.”

You weren’t upset with him, or frustrated in the slightest. If anything… you were scared and just wanted to help.

Buck swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to control himself. You pressed your lips to his head and gently rocked you both. It was a little awkward in this position, but all you cared about was making sure he was okay.

You pulled back to look at him, your hand moving back to his cheek to brush away the tears.

His eyes remained downcast, staring at where your knees pressed into his thighs. He gripped your shirt again as a soft cry fell from his lips.

“The lab…”

He felt you tense at the words. Your hands paused in their movements just long enough for him to catch it before you went right back to soothing him. 

A pang of guilt hit deep in his heart. 

“We-we had just got Hen and Chimney out, and everything was fine. But as I turned to Cap… he-” Buck bit his quivering lip, his eyes remaining fixated on your point of contact, not wanting to see the heartbreak in your eyes as he told you again what had happened in the damned lab. He hated to make you relive it, relive probably the worst day of your life. He wanted to take it back, take all of it back… but he kept going, knowing you wouldn’t just let him go back to sleep.

“He locked himself in… the hose line to his tank was torn in the explosion, he had been sick the whole time and no one knew. He sacrificed himself for Chimney… he’s gone.”

His voice cracked, sobs sending his trembling frame into your lap. Apologies tumbled past his lips and rumbled against your sternum. 

Your heart broke, frame rattling with the devastating cries of your boyfriend. You planted kisses on his head and rubbed his back. “Oh Evan, honey… it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not! He’s gone!” He pulled back swiftly, nearly headbutting you in the process. “Nothing is okay! How will it ever be okay?”

You held his face, fingers gently curling around his jaw to get him to look at you. “Baby, that was just a nightmare. He’s okay. He’s with Athena at their temporary apartment.”

Buck’s eyes met yours, his crystal blue eyes surrounded by red as his brow furrowed in confusion. “W-what? That-that’s impossible there was only one cure and we used that on Chimney. Bobby couldn’t have…” He trailed off, his voice giving way as he looked at you with pure desperation to understand.

Your thumbs rubbed under his eyes, tracing comforting crescents there. You couldn’t help the tears that stung your own eyes or how your lip quivered as you shook your head. “Baby, dad’s line was never compromised. His equipment was intact. He’s okay, I promise you.”

“But-”

You shushed him gently, adjusting how you were sitting to hold him. “I know… I know it felt real. Dreams like that always do. And it’s wild how, despite knowing the truth, your brain can twist reality so intricately that you wake up wondering which is which. Scared that the good life was the dream and the nightmare is your life…”

Buck sniffled, a small sound escaping his lips. His head was throbbing, pulsing alongside his heart as it crossed wires and memories. He was half-awake trying to make it all make sense.

“C’mon,” you said softly, sniffling as you kissed his damp forehead. You slipped out of the bed, grabbing Buck’s zip-up hoodie before pulling him to his feet. “Put this on and find your shoes.”

“Honey-”

“We’re going over there, right now.” 

Your words held a sense of authority, leaving no room for argument or questioning. Not that Buck needed to question you, he trusted you more than he trusted anyone.

The drive across town was a blur. Street lights and business signs merged together, nothing but bright neon streaks that went by too fast for anyone to process properly. 

Buck was fighting to stay awake, to pull himself out of his dream fog and focus. He felt stuck, constantly trying to decipher dream from reality.

A gentle squeeze to his hand felt like he was sucked back into his body. Everything around him clears, all becoming separate entities rather than a multi-colored blob. He could hear the low hum of the radio, the ambient sounds filling the space of the car in substitute of his voice.

Your lips brushed his knuckles as you reached across your body to put the car in park. “We’re here.” You could feel his hand trembling in yours just before you let go to exit the car.

He quickly got out after you, rounding the car and reaching for your hand again.

He needed it. He needed to be grounded. 

You both walked in, nodding to the doorman as you walked right past him to the elevator. 

After you got in and pressed the button you turned to Buck. He was bouncing on his toes, his unoccupied hand restless at his side.

“Baby, c’mere,” you said softly, tugging on his hand before wrapping your arms around him in a proper hug.

He immediately returned it, his arms pinning you to his chest desperately.

His voice was raspy as he spoke. “I’m so scared…” 

“I know, Ev’... I know. But I promise, he’s okay. You’ll see for yourself soon, I swear it.” 

The elevator slowed to a stop and you pulled apart as the doors opened. You took his hand again, gripping it tightly as you walked down the hall to your parents door.

Your knuckles rapped on the door in a rhythm that would signal to whoever was awake that it was you. Buck brought the concept up to Bobby back when you both began dating. It was just a silly little thing you did as a family, nothing serious.

But the sound of it made Buck’s stomach sink with anxiety.

What if Bobby would never hear that again? What if Buck would never hear Bobby knock like that again?

What if-

“Y/n? Buck?”

You smiled at Athena softly, a hint of an apology in it. “Hi, Athena…”

She wrapped her robe around her, yawning as she ushered you both inside. “It’s two in the morning, baby, what’re you doing here? Is everything okay?”

Her voice was laced with sleep and you almost felt bad for waking her up but there was a glass of water on the counter. She had been awake for a few minutes when you knocked.

Buck wiped at his eyes with his free hand as he squeezed yours.

You returned the gesture, rubbing your own eyes as you spoke.

“We umm… we need-”

“Bobby…” Buck’s frayed voice rattled through the kitchen, his shoulders dropping as if the strings keeping him so tense had been cut.

You and Athena looked up to see your dad walk out of the bedroom, stretching as he walked into the kitchen.

“Buck? Y/n? What’s going on? Everything okay?” He was slowly coming around to the idea of being awake at such an ungodly hour as he noticed the look on Buck’s face.

“Buck? What’s wrong?”

Without saying anything, Buck launched his 6’2” frame at your dad, curling into him like a child. He pressed his face into Bobby’s shoulder, crying in relief.

You noticed Athena glance at you from the corner of your eye as Bobby looked at you, hoping for an explanation.

You swallowed, arms wrapping around yourself as you leaned against the counter. “A nightmare… about the lab incident.”

Bobby gripped Buck tighter, realizing that being the only one not stuck in there must have taken a bigger toll on Buck than he thought.

Athena rubbed your arm, extending a comforting hand to you. Seeing Buck reacting so viscerally like this had to be affecting you too, she wanted you to know that you weren’t alone. 

You smiled at her appreciatively, resting your head on her shoulder as Buck pulled back from the hug.

“It-it felt so real… you died, Bobby. I-I thought we lost you.”

A deep frown pulled at your dad’s lips, his brow creasing as he gripped Buck’s shoulders.

“It was just a dream, son,” he said, pulling Buck back into a hug. “Everyone made it out. Everyone’s okay. I’m okay, and I don’t plan on changing that anytime soon.”

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i hope this could bring some comfort in, it was a huge comfort to write, and that it can hold you over until may 1...

and thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 for giving this a look over for me a giving some feedback!

also, happy easter to those who celebrate! i hope you're all having a great day!

tags (you can also follow @vinnys-recordcollection and turn on notifications ;p): @lovinglyeternal @bradleybeachbabe @achilles-rage @kmc1989 (tagged a few i thought might like it - apologies for anyone i missed, i gotta sort out taglists 😅)

[saryasy]

poor Chimney, no one ever listens to him

[ambernotember]

one more try

They’ve been on scene for a little over an hour. Buck has spent most of that time popping open car doors and doing basic triage while a trail of paramedics follow behind him and Ravi, getting people onto stretchers or giving them the okay to walk to the tents that have been set up. For all that it’s a major pileup, they’ve been lucky in that there are no car fires, and while there have been serious injuries, none so far have been life threatening.

“Hen, I’ve got a patient with unequal pupils here. She needs to be on the next transport out,” Buck heard Ravi say over the radio.

“The last ambulance just left, Chim and I will come get her but it’ll be a bit before one’s back,” she replied.

“I don’t know if that’s going to be soon enough,” Ravi said. “She’s not looking too good.”

“We’re on our way,” Hen told him. A pause. “She’ll have transport by the time we get her out.”

Buck had finished clearing his lane, so he headed over to help Ravi and his patient too. Hen and Chim were right behind him with a stretcher, and he and Ravi helped load the patient once they’d given her a second look.

“How are we getting her out of here?” Ravi asked.

Buck realized the answer seconds before Hen pointed skyward, her response almost drowned out by the sudden noise from the helicopter blades.

“That’s how!” she called. “Ravi, Chim, finish this lane. Buck, help me load her.”

Buck should have known his luck wouldn’t hold when he’d seen the 217 arrive without Tommy. The universe had just been waiting to taunt him until it could make sure they’d be face to face. Well, maybe he’d be so focused on setting the helicopter down he wouldn’t notice Buck. Buck ducked his head as he held onto the back of the stretcher and followed Hen; it didn’t really make him less noticeable but he could at least try.

The helicopter set down in the intersection the police had cleared. Hen and Buck moved forward with the patient as soon as the back door slid open, and Buck was really not prepared to look up and see Tommy in the back of the helicopter instead of the pilot’s seat.

“Aren’t you usually in the front of these things?” Hen called over the noise.

“Stretched a little thin today, just filling in where I’m needed,” Tommy called back, nodding towards the 217 truck. “You already had the rest of our paramedics.” He made eye contact with Buck before looking back to Hen and the patient. “Anything else we need to know?”

Hen shook her head. “Tell Melton thanks,” she gestured to the front of the helicopter. Tommy gave her a thumbs up and reached for the door handle.

“Tommy!” Buck found his voice. His conversation with Maddie flashed through his mind. Tommy looked up at him and quirked an eyebrow, waiting. “I love you,” he blurted out.

Hen’s eyes went wide.

Tommy looked at him. Opened his mouth. Closed it. “I have to— go,” he said. “Dinner? Saturday?”

“Eight pm,” Buck agreed, his smile so wide it was almost painful. “Pick me up.”

“Okay,” Tommy’s smile appeared like the sun after rain. “It’s a date.” He shot his dorky finger guns at Buck before he closed the door.

Buck waved as they took off, only turning back to Hen when they were too far away to see him.

“What?” he asked innocently.

“Good for you,” she said. “Now stop mooning and get back to work.”

“Yes Cap,” he saluted her.

“Now, or you’re cleaning as well as cooking this week,” she threatened.

“I clean as I go,” he reminded her, then dodged the forehead flick she’d aimed at him.

“This is an open channel,” Melton’s aggrieved voice came over the radio.

“I know,” Tommy replied. “but uh, I just wanted to say, same, Firefighter Buckley.”

“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Buck — good for you and get back to work,” Hen said into the radio. She made a shooing motion at Buck.

“Sorry Cap,” Tommy said.

“Oh, did it work?” Chimney asked excitedly from behind Buck.

“Chimney, shut up,” Hen hissed.

Buck threw his arms around her and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek.

“Oh my god Buckley, be a professional! I’m your captain!”

[punksalmons]

companion pieces to chapter 5 of once in a long while

[its-not-nothing]

A little Hen/Eddie conversation based on that still... (if you saw the first version earlier today, no you didn't! I didn't like it so I changed it). So imagine they're talking about Hen being captain, and at one point Eddie is telling her:

"You should listen to what your heart tells you."

"Yeah..." Hen sighs. Then she looks at him intently. "So should you."

"Me? What- what do you mean?"

"Well, is your heart really in Texas? Or is it somewhere else?"

"My son lives in Texas..."

"Your son loves you, Eddie, I'm sure he just wants you to be happy. But when are you gonna think about what makes you happy? Life is too short, we've just been reminded of that. It's just my opinion but... I think you should stop being so hard on yourself, and instead, listen to your heart. You know, choose happiness... choose joy."

Eddie looks away, letting out a small laugh. "It's funny, you're actually the second person to say that to me."

"Well, did you listen the first time?"

"I- hum... maybe not as well as I should've."

"It's not too late to rectify that." Hen smiles.

They stay silent for a bit, Eddie reflecting on Hen's words, finally allowing himself to pull the lid off the box he's been keeping at a safe distance for months, years probably. Hen's presence in front of him is warm and loving and non-judgmental... He didn't plan to, but now that he started to let himself truly feel, some words seem to want to come out of his mouth for the first time. And he's not scared of it, in this moment he’s feeling calm, he’s feeling good, even, so he decides to just let it happen.

"I think... I think Buck makes me happy."

[apollabarnes]

inhale 'til your lungs get sore

cw: major character death, ghosts, magical realism 8x15 coda (on ao3)

"That does look worse from up here."

Tommy tensed, his hand tightening on his arm. He glanced sideways, wary of reacting too strongly around the Army. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his eyes drifting back to Evan.

"I mean. Dying," Bobby said dryly.

Tommy hiccuped a laugh, turned it into a cough. He swallowed around the tears in his throat.

"You should call Eddie before they come out," Bobby continued, pacing in front of Tommy.

Tommy spared a moment to be glad that Bobby had moved so it was easier to talk to him before he realized could see Evan on the screen through Bobby's face. Christ. What were the odds that he hadn't cleared that last building and they were in a crumpled heap of metal in the middle of downtown?

He shoved down the part of him that hoped it was true. Even if he would rather be dying than Bobby, that would mean that Evan — and selfishly, so selfishly, Tommy would trade Bobby for Evan in a heartbeat. Considering Bobby had just done the same thing, Tommy thought Bobby might forgive him if he knew what he was thinking.

"Not really my place."

"No one else has the bandwidth to deal with it right now. And if they tell him later, if they realize that they forgot, the guilt that they'll—"

Bastard. Tommy pulled his phone out of his pocket and tried to remember what his corporal had taught him about notifications. There were two flights out of El Paso left tonight. Be succinct, be clear, don't use metaphors, and —

"Tommy? Why are you calling?"

Tommy would have appreciated another few seconds to get his thoughts together. "Eddie," he said, taking a deep breath. "A call went bad today. Bobby died."

Eddie stayed silent on the other end of the phone.

"There are two flights left. I can get you a ticket, Chris too, but you need to —"

Evan scrambled to his feet behind Bobby's head and Tommy saw him turn towards the door right before Athena came out.

"Yeah, two tickets, do that," Eddie said finally, his voice cracking.

"They're not — everyone else is still on the scene, they're not being allowed to leave yet or they would have called themselves," Tommy offered, floundering, "I didn't want you to not know."

"Text me the gate details."

Any other day Tommy might be offended that Eddie hung up on him. Tommy purchased the tickets and forwarded the confirmation to Eddie, keeping one eye on the screens and Bobby. "What happens when they come out?" Tommy asked, quiet. He was pretty sure a ghost could hear him no matter how quietly he spoke. "Are they going to be able to see you?"

"That wouldn't be a good idea right now," Bobby smiled at him, the edges of his face blurry. "They wouldn't handle it well. You take care of them, Tommy."

"Shit goodbye," Tommy muttered, tapping his thumb against the pads of his fingers. Okay. Take care of them. Hen and Howie still needed to get to a hospital; he didn't trust that the Army doctor hadn't overlooked something when his main concern was the virus. Ravi, too. Karen and Maddie would want to be there, which meant… babysitters. He could handle that.

Evan and Athena had cleared the area covered by the cameras. He turned away before he could watch the Army take Bobby out, ducking out of the main tent and heading for medical.

"Howie, who watches Jee overnight?"

"Huh?"

"Howie," Tommy softened his voice. "Who watches Jee when you and Maddie both work overnights?"

"Anne," Howie blinked at him, shaking his head, "Tommy?"

"One and only," Tommy said carefully, pressing a hand against the plastic tent. "Can I have her number?"

"I should — I should call," Howie said, staring past Tommy.

"I got it, Howie. What's her number?"

Tommy tapped the number into his phone as Howie dictated it to him. Tommy had to fight the urge to walk away as he made the call, so he'd be closer to Hen, but the look on Howie's face was haunting. He put the phone on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Hi Anne," Tommy kept his voice gentle, as soothing as possible. "This is Tommy, one of Howie's friends. He's okay, but he and Maddie aren't going to be home tonight. Can you watch Jee until tomorrow?"

"Of course. Is Hen all right? Do Denny and Mara need someone to watch them?"

"I'm going to ask her right now. Can I text you when I know?"

"That would be good. Toni and I were going to have a movie night, it would be easy to keep them all at one house if the kids are okay with that."

"I'll ask them and let you know. Thanks, Anne."

Tommy stared at the phone when he hung up. God, where had the time gone if the kids weren't asleep yet? "Okay, Howie. I need to talk to Hen, but Jee might have a sleepover with Denny and Mara if that's okay with you."

"Yeah, yeah, that would be…" Howie trailed off.

Tommy wanted to stay. "Text Maddie, let her know Jee's taken care of."

Tommy repeated the whole thing at Hen's tent, digging his nails into his palm when she started crying. Toni was also in favour of the sleepover, so Tommy left it up to them to decide which house they were going to spend the night at.

"Tommy, what are you doing here?" Hen asked, scrubbing her hands over her eyes.

Tommy wanted to scream. "I have no idea. Trying to help, I guess. I have to go check on Ravi."

"Yeah, okay." Hen looked in the opposite direction of Howie's tent. "Sounds good."

He called the administrative line for dispatch as he walked over to Ravi. Tommy knew that all of dispatch already knew the call had gone bad, but he still spent a few minutes going over it with Sue and arranging for Maddie to get a ride to the hospital once they knew where everyone was going. Sue passed along that they'd already pulled the 118 off any calls until B shift got to the station. Tommy sighed. "I'll find a way to get the gear back."

"Don't bother. We have drivers on the way to get the trucks and the supplies."

"Thanks, Sue." He paused. "Can you do me one more favour?"

"I'm fine," Ravi said, before Tommy could say anything.

"Probably," Tommy agreed. "You still got knocked around pretty good. You should get checked out at a real hospital."

"They said I was fine."

"They were concerned about a virus. We're concerned about everything else." Tommy looked at Karen. "Athena's probably in the middle of giving everyone hell and Sue's working on getting ambulances here. Toni and Anne are watching the kids, so all you have to do is drive there once we know which one they're going to."

Karen eyed Tommy curiously. "You've been busy."

"Not much else for me to do around here."

"Tommy!" Evan scrambled towards him when he came back into the main tent. "I thought you—"

"No," Tommy said emphatically. "I was making some calls."

He turned towards Athena, lightheaded when he saw the expression on her face. "Sue's sending two ambulances to take everyone to the hospital."

"Good." Athena turned back to the Colonel, her voice hard. "We're leaving."

"Sergeant Grant—"

"—is leaving," Tommy said, stepping in front of her. "As is the rest of the 118." He squared his jaw, crossing his arms over his chest. "They've earned that much."

"I'm not done with you either, Firefighter."

"Then arrest me. I can't wait to call my lawyer," Tommy shot back. He watched the Colonel pause. "When you decide what you want to do with me, I'll be at the hospital with them."

Ambulance sirens cut through the air.

"Let's go," Athena said, taking Evan's arm in hers. "Tommy."

"Yep." Tommy saluted the Colonel with enough attitude to make it clear it was not out of respect. He spun on his heel, following Athena out of the tent.

"I gotta…" Evan stared at his phone, his eyes hollow. "I have to call Eddie."

Tommy checked his watch. "You'll only get his voicemail, Evan," he said quietly. "His plane's already in the air."

"Oh," Evan deflated and Tommy leaned forward, catching his phone before it could drop to the floor. Ravi flinched. "You called him?"

"You and Athena seemed like you were pretty busy."

"Even after…?" Evan took a shaky breath, his brow furrowed.

"He's going to meet you at the hospital," Tommy said, not willing to get into that whole conversation in front of Ravi. Or at all. It seemed trivial and stupid now. It had been stupid when he said it, but— "There's a car waiting to pick him and Chris up when they land."

"Oh, fuck," Evan flushed. "I should have done that."

"It's okay, Evan. You can take care of them at the hospital," Tommy promised.

"Ravi, man, how are you doing?" Evan asked, leaning past Tommy to look at Ravi.

Ravi shrugged, his shoulders drooping. "I'm fine," he muttered, crossing his arms. "You didn't have to put me on the stretcher."

"Ravi, you got blown up and stopped breathing for a minute. You're riding on the stretcher," Evan said firmly, clasping a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, but I'm—" Ravi stopped abruptly, the blood draining out of his face.

Tommy shoved the puke bucket onto his lap, just in case.

"This is a nightmare," Ravi stared out the back window. "I want to wake up."

Same, kid.

Evan's chin wobbled once. "You're going to be okay, Ravi."

Athena was waiting outside the hospital doors for them, Hen and Howie already swept away by the doctors for surgery and check-ups. "Sue Blevins said to call if we need anything. Maddie's going to be here soon," she added, looking over at Evan. "The two of you are in line for concussion protocols."

"Athena!" Evan protested.

"You are getting checked out, Evan Buckley, if I have to handcuff you to a bed. And I can find a second pair if you want to argue with me too," Athena looked over at Ravi.

"Concussion protocol sounds awesome," Ravi said after a beat. "Where's that?"

"Fine," Evan sighed.

Tommy's phone rang. "That's the station," he told them. "I've got to take this. Text me if there's anything I can bring back with me. Hopefully I won't be long," he added, jogging for the front doors.

"Hey, Melton."

"Is it true? Did Nash really—"

"Yeah," Tommy swallowed, sinking onto the nearest bench. He tipped his head back, staring up at the sky. "How long am I grounded for?"

"How long do you need?"

"I'm pretty sure that's not how suspensions work."

"Funny thing about that. The Army was out here trying to light someone's ass on fire to get you fired and now it's all 'please thank Firefighter Kinard for his assistance tonight' so…" Melton paused, a hint of amusement in his voice, "Hard to hand out punishment when the people pushing for it change their mind."

"Stellar." Tommy sighed.

"You're not actually about to get arrested, are you?"

"Probably not. Call back tomorrow."

"I'll juggle your schedule, get Donato in for the next few days. Just in case."

"You're an eternal optimist, Melton."

"Fuck off, you know they beat that out of you in basic."

Tommy dragged a hand over his face. "I'll you know when I know things."

"Appreciate it. Let someone at the 118 know to call if they need anything."

"B shift is on their way to the station — you might want to try and call them there and make the offer. I don't think A's going to be back on their feet for a while."

"Will do. Take care of yourself, Kinard."

"That could have gone worse."

"How long have you been… hovering there?" What was the correct term to use when a ghost was lurking? Tommy glanced down. Yep. Bobby's feet were firmly — if translucently — on the ground. No floating required.

"Long enough," Bobby said, which wasn't really an answer.

"Okay." Tommy nodded. "I should—" he gestured over his shoulder, back towards the hospital.

"Eddie and Chris are here," Bobby told him.

Tommy checked his watch. Shit. He hadn't noticed the time passing. "That's good. They all need to be together. What do you think, snacks?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because you're here?" Tommy shrugged. "Kind of expected you to not show up again after you disappeared from the tent."

"Yeah," Bobby frowned. "Don't tell me you're disappointed."

"Aren't you? Wasting your haunting on me?" Tommy scrubbed both hands through his hair. "Sorry, that was—"

"It's been a weird night," Bobby offered helpfully.

"Tell me about it."

Tommy spent ten minutes staring at the menu board in the hospital coffee shop before giving up. "Two of everything you have left," he said, glancing over at Bobby. "And drinks. Um. Ten of them." Tommy rattled off most of them without an issue, pausing when it came to the Grants. Bobby took over, and Tommy repeated their orders to the cashier.

He took the bag that the cashier offered him gratefully, glad that he could balance a tray of drinks in each hand without issue. Tommy started with Karen, handing over her drink and the first box of food. He did a slow counterclockwise loop of the waiting room, pausing in front of Athena and the kids. "I had to guess. Hopefully they're okay," he said quietly, handing May another box.

"Thanks, Tommy," Athena murmured.

"Yeah, no problem."

The only people he hadn't talked to yet were Evan, Eddie and Chris and Tommy made himself walk over there without pausing, handing out the last of it and sinking into the chair beside Evan.

"One of us would have helped you bring all this back," Evan said quietly, leaning in so Tommy could hear him.

"It's fine. I managed," Tommy whispered back. "You all needed to be here together." He was suddenly, viciously tired.

"Okay. We're still waiting for news."

Tommy nodded.

"—mmy? Tommy." Evan shook his shoulder.

"Yeah," Tommy blinked, his head fuzzy. "Sorry, repeat that?"

"They're sending us all home. Hen and Chim have to stay overnight but they're not allowed to have any guests. I'm — I'm gonna stay with Maddie tonight. Eddie and Chris are going to—"

"—the house," Tommy finished with him. "Makes sense." He resisted the urge to scrub his hands over his face, blinking one more time.

"What are you gonna…" Evan trailed off.

Tommy shrugged. "I'll make sure Karen and Ravi have a way to get home and then…" he glanced over at Athena, frowning when he saw Bobby behind her. "If you need anything, just give me a call."

"I don't think you should be driving," Evan said, his brow furrowed.

Tommy yawned. "Definitely not. Uber, though," the corner of his mouth twitched in an attempt at a smile, "I can order with the best of them."

Karen had convinced Ravi to spend the night at their place; Tommy wasn't sure how and he didn't ask. It certainly made getting them both home easier. He tried not to notice how often he found his attention drifting to Evan as they waited, Eddie and Chris leaving first and the Grants leaving after them.

"Aren't you going with them?" Evan asked, when Tommy didn't get in the car with Karen and Ravi.

"Other direction. I ordered one for myself. It'll be here in ten minutes," Tommy said easily, lying through his teeth. "That's you and Maddie, right?"

"Yeah. Let me know you got home all right, okay?"

"Of course."

Tommy waited until the car had pulled out onto the street and disappeared around the corner before he wandered back inside the hospital, making his way up to the ICU.

"Is Rick here tonight?" he asked the charge nurse.

"Who's aski… Tommy?" She pulled her glasses down, squinting over the rims at him. "Christ, kid, what's it been, three years?"

"Aw, Mona, you remember me."

"I remember those biceps," she hummed, looking him up and down. "What do you want Rick for?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Nope. I do want one of whatever you've got in that box of yours. Rick's down the hall in 8. You can wait for him out here."

"Deal. Jelly filled?"

Mona leaned in, dropping her voice. "See, I told him dumping you was something he was going to regret. Here you are remembering a girl's favourite order and you weren't even trying to get into my pants."

"Mona, you're young enough to be my aunt."

She cackled with delight. "If Rick doesn't want to help you with whatever rule you're breaking, come back to me. That was smooth."

"What on earth are you up to, Tommy?" Bobby asked, following him to the chairs against the wall and sitting down beside him. Tommy really hoped that they weren't there long enough for someone else to need it. He didn't want to see what would happen if Bobby didn't move fast enough.

It was too quiet to talk back to Bobby without someone noticing, and Tommy didn't really want to pretend to be on a call in the middle of the night in the ICU, so he pulled out his phone and started typing a note. Figured you'd want to keep an eye on Hen and Howie tonight, and if you're stuck with me, then I'm going to stay close.

"I think I can travel around without you."

Let's not test that out tonight. I'm just going to ask Rick if there's somewhere I can crash. Lots of on call rooms that don't get used.

"Rick's an ex?"

Sort of. Well, I was the rebound guy. So it didn't go anywhere.

"Went somewhere far enough that his coworkers remember you."

Tommy rolled his eyes. Sorry I'm a catch, he thought about typing out, but then he'd just get caught up in all the times being a catch hadn't been enough. I picked him up after work sometimes.

"Tommy?"

"Hey, Rick," Tommy stood up, smiling. "Been awhile."

"Yeah," Rick nodded, pulling Tommy into a hug. "You look good. Well, you look like you haven't slept in two days, but other than that."

"You don't have to lie," Tommy joked. "I have a favour to ask."

"No promises yet, but hit me."

"Is there somewhere I can crash tonight? A couple of my friends are in Critical Care and — no visitors, you know — but I wanted to stay close just in case."

"Yeah, of course. That's easy. I thought you were going to ask me to sneak you into Crit."

Tommy shrugged. "That might be an ask for the rest of their friends tomorrow."

"Tommy," Rick laughed. "There aren't enough blowjobs in the world for that favour."

"You say that now," Tommy joked. Back when they were dating, Tommy would have made good on the dare. "How's Colin?"

"He's taking the bar next month so he's been horrible to live with, but other than that," Rick said, waving Tommy down the hall, "Here's our four star on call room. Close your eyes and ignore anyone else who comes in here. Sorry about not having ear plugs."

"Thanks, I appreciate it. Snacks, for whoever wants them," Tommy added, handing off the pastry box he was still holding.

"Like I said, easiest favour you could have asked for," Rick leaned against the door frame, watching Tommy. "Hey, about the other favour. You should come over for dinner after Colin's passed that fucking test. And if you're not… you know. You could stay over."

"Dinner sounds great," Tommy glanced towards the door, glad that Bobby had disappeared to see the others. "I'll let you know about the rest."

"My shift ends at seven, I'll make sure you're awake before I take off."

"Perfect. Hey, stay safe tonight."

"I don't leave the building. I should be telling you that." Rick knocked against the door frame, pushing himself off it. "I'll warn Mona that you're in here."

Tommy remembered to text Evan and lie about getting home. He set his phone on do not disturb, hesitating for a moment before making sure that Evan could call through. He tucked his flight suit and phone underneath the bed before closing his eyes and hoping that he was just having a very, very bad dream.

"They're refusing to let anyone in before visiting hours at nine!"

"Evan," Tommy said gently, bracing his forehead against his knees. "They've got rules they have to follow, too."

"But— don't they know that— Maddie's—"

"Baby," Tommy interrupted before Evan could get going again. "Everyone in here is having the worst day of their life. I promise they're taking good care of Hen and Howie."

Evan's breath hitched and Tommy played back what he'd just said, wincing when he realized he'd used a pet name.

"I have a friend who works in the hospital, okay? I'll give them a call and see if they can tell you more about what's going on." Tommy looked up, holding a hand up when Rick opened his mouth. He shook his head and Rick shrugged, sitting down across from him.

"Are you coming back today?"

"I have to go to Harbor and talk to my boss, but if I can get to the hospital today I will."

"Text me?" Evan asked, his voice shaking.

"Yes," Tommy promised. "I'm going to hang up now, okay? I'll talk to my friend and let you know what's going."

"Okay. Tommy…"

"I'll talk to you soon," Tommy promised. He hung up before either one of them dissolved into tears, letting his head hit the wall behind him. It was a satisfying thunk.

"Don't do that," Rick said, leaning forward and slipping a hand behind Tommy's head before he could do it again. "Baby, huh? Sounds like it's just going to be dinner."

"Shut the hell up," Tommy managed, shaking his head. "It's complicated. Fuck."

"This about your friends?"

"Yeah," Tommy nodded, looking over at Rick. "Any chance you'd be willing to harass a few colleagues for information?"

"I'll sic Mona on them." Rick looked Tommy over, his eyes critical. "You need a shower. I'll find you a pair of scrubs." He poked Tommy's arm. "Hopefully you don't rip them. Get up, let's hit the locker room."

By the time Tommy had spent twenty minutes under a scalding hot shower, Rick had tracked down a pair of scrubs that would fit him and Mona had a full court update that Tommy was able to pass on to Evan. "I should turn my phone off," he told Rick, flipping it in his hand as they walked out together. "Just…" he glanced out the doors, catching Bobby lingering near the ambulance bay.

"Come on," Rick slung his arm around Tommy's shoulders. "I'll give you a ride to your station, save you the Uber trouble."

"You don't have to do that, I'm sure Colin—"

"—Is very glad for every moment I'm not home so he doesn't have to feel bad about ignoring me to study," Rick finished.

"Okay." Tommy was too tired to argue, sliding into the passenger seat of Rick's sedan. Bobby popped up in the backseat.

"Doctor, huh? Guess you've always had good taste."

Tommy snorted, waving Rick off when he looked over. "Sorry, just thinking about what these friends would have said if they were around while we were dating."

"Probably the same thing that Mona tells me every few months," Rick joked.

"Hey, uh… if you see anyone when you go back for your next shift, maybe don't tell them I stayed at the hospital last night."

"I see you're still terrible at sharing," Rick said dryly. "Don't worry. I'll consider it doctor-patient confidentiality."

"I wasn't sure I'd be able to stay, so…" Tommy shrugged. "Definitely wasn't sure you'd be able to pull strings for ten people if they all wanted to stay. Which they would have."

"Ah. In that case. I appreciate that you're terrible at sharing."

Chief Simpson was apparently livid that Tommy had absconded with another helicopter and gotten out of it because the Army wasn't willing to publicize what had been going on. Melton was amused in the way that all vets tended to be when another vet gave the Army the finger, and everyone else at Harbor wanted him to teach them to do barrel rolls.

Tommy was exhausted. Grabbing a few hours at the hospital had done less than nothing, and he still had to get home on his own.

He texted Evan.

Need to grab a few hours, putting my phone on silent. Setting an alarm for three hours and will let you know where I'm at then.

Tommy turned his phone to silent before Evan could reply.

"You look like dogshit," Lucy said bluntly, coming to a stop in front of Tommy.

He blinked at her, his keys dangling from his hand. "I think I need to call a cab."

"I got you." Lucy bundled him into his truck with surprising speed. She put on the classic rock station that Tommy liked, lowering the volume. They didn't talk on the way home, or when she helped Tommy into the house, or when she bullied him into his bedroom.

"I'm going to get a ride back to the station," she told him, tapping her fingers against the back of his hand.

"Take the truck," Tommy offered. "I can get back to Harbor. Or you can pick me up. Whatever."

"I'll pick you up. Get some sleep, Tommy."

Tommy hated that she could see through the cracks now. She'd had an idea since the breakup, but now… god. "Thanks, Lucy."

"Yeah, I got you." Lucy smiled tiredly. "I'll lock the door behind me. Text when you wake up so I know you're not in a coma."

"That might be prefer—"

"Not a good joke to make today," she reminded him.

"Yeah," Tommy squeezed her hand. "Let me know you got home all right."

"Moira Blake is a fucking terrible mad scientist," Tommy said, staring at the ceiling. "Who doesn't make a stockpile for themselves when they can't be sure one dose will enough for an untested virus?"

"Rewriting history?"

Tommy groaned, leaning up on one elbow. Bobby sat at the end of his bed. "Just saying, that crazy woman could have inhaled it at the lab and then what would she have had to try and sell? How could she know that one dose was enough protection for a human? Actually, how could she know one dose would be enough for permanent inoculation? What if she got infected twice? I bet she hadn't been able to test the R-naught before they kicked her out of the lab — hey, I'm allowed to know weird things too," he protested, watching the expression on Bobby's face.

"I never said you weren't."

"And I know what you're thinking, it's not because of Rick."

"I never said that either. Have you considered that you're trying to assign logic to something inherently illogical?"

"Says the ghost sitting at the end of the bed. Come to think of it," Tommy said, gesturing angrily, "how could she be sure that the one dose of the virus she made would get out of the lab? Without it, her antivirus was useless and not worth anything, and she didn't exactly go back to her house and make some more to release somewhere else. What the hell was she — has she never watched a James Bond movie?"

"Sorry, just checking, but are you advocating in favour of the mad scientist right now?"

"No, just — it was so stupid. She knows the protocols, she should have known that the doors would come down in a fire and there was a chance the virus would get trapped in the lab and burn up. I don't want her to be good at her job but why did she have to be so bad at it?"

"She could have been worse," Bobby offered.

"Yeah, the virus could have made it out of the lab," Tommy agreed. "Doesn't mean that what happened isn't a worst case scenario."

Bobby smiled. "That's nice to hear, kid."

"Yeah, if I were you I'd be shocked that people miss you." Tommy rolled his eyes, sitting up properly. "If you're sticking around I might as well get up."

"You're not sleeping well," Bobby said, following him into the kitchen.

Tommy found himself getting two cups out of the cupboard automatically. He paused, looking up at Bobby. "Can you—?"

"I don't know." Bobby tilted his head, staring at the cup. "I haven't tried."

"I'm not a huge fan of this one, if you want to," Tommy offered. He filled Bobby's mug with water, shrugging when Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Not going to waste a coffee if you drop it. And of course I'm not sleeping well. You've seen the last few days," he said simply.

Bobby huffed, reaching out for the mug. Tommy looked out the back window, unsure what he wanted to happen but worried that if he stared too hard, nothing would happen.

"Huh," Bobby said curiously. Tommy looked back. The mug was intact, there was water missing, and there was nothing on the floor.

"Huh," Tommy echoed. "You want some coffee?"

"Cream, no sugar."

Tommy dumped the water out and filled the mug with coffee, carrying them both out to the living room. "You can have the armchair," he told Bobby, sinking down on the couch. "What are the odds that I actually get some sleep today?"

"Better if you stop talking to me," Bobby said blandly.

Tommy flipped Bobby off and closed his eyes. The television clicked on and over to the baseball game, volume barely audible, and Tommy drifted off to the dulcet tones of the Padres broadcast.

Tommy startled awake when a cabinet door crashed open in the kitchen. Was Bobby—

"Buck's cooking. And he's about to pop his head out and apologize for waking you up."

"Tommy, shit, sorry, go back to sleep."

"Evan, how did you…" Tommy frowned.

"You didn't move the spare," Evan said. "You really should do that when you break up with someone, you know."

Tommy checked the clock. "I missed the alarm?"

"I got here about five minutes before it was going to go off. You looked… I thought I should let you sleep. You made two cups of coffee?"

Tommy laughed, his voice rusty. "Trying to stay awake. What are you doing here?"

"We got kicked out of the hospital. Visiting hours, disruptions, tests, et cetera…" Evan shrugged, frowning . "I cooked all night at Maddie's. She told me if I came back and kept cooking she'd — with love — kick me to the curb. So I, uh," he scratched the back of his neck.

"Thought you'd terrorize me with your cooking instead?"

"Terrorize implies that it's not going to taste good," Evan said, sniffing haughtily.

"Right," Tommy inhaled deeply. Ah. The famous Bobby chili.

"He's going to ask about the—"

"Cocoa powder's on the top shelf over the stove," Tommy told Evan.

"How'd you know that was what he was looking for?"

"How'd you know that was what I was looking for?"

Bobby and Evan overlapped with each other when they spoke and Tommy blinked, rubbing a hand over his forehead. "Evan, you told me that story the first time you made me chili last year."

"You remembered that?"

"I told him you were good for him."

"…What?" Tommy asked, unsure of which one of them he was actually responding to.

"You remembered that?" Evan asked again, his voice shaking.

"Of course I remembered. It was important to you so it was important to me."

"Tommy, are you awake right now?" Evan asked.

"I mean, I don't normally talk in my sleep. Or imagine my… you breaking in to cook me dinner, so I'm going with yes?" Tommy asked, looking at Bobby's chair in confusion.

"So you're saying all of this on purpose?"

"Was I not supposed to remember the things you tell me?" Tommy asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm confused. Is me remembering a good thing or a bad thing? I can tell you I remember from when he made it for us before my transfer if you'd rather."

Evan crossed the living room in three large steps and knelt down in front of Tommy.

"What's going on?" Tommy asked softly.

"You helped me run away from the Army and you remember the goofy little stories that I told you," Evan said, equally soft. "I'm going to finish making dinner, you get some more sleep. We'll talk about how I no longer accept you breaking up with me in the morning." He smiled faintly, cupping Tommy's cheek and pressing a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. "I think I can out stubborn you."

"I've never been un-broken up with. I might be bad at it," Tommy said, swallowing hard.

"First time for both of us. I think we'll nail the learning curve," Evan said brightly, standing up. "I'm taking this coffee away from you," he added, reaching for the one in front of Bobby.

"Not that— take this one," Tommy said, handing his cup to Evan. "That one's far enough away I won't go for it."

"Okay, weirdo." Evan laughed at him. "Close your eyes and go to sleep."

"Remind me to tell you about the time I unfired Buck," Bobby said, waiting until Buck was back in the kitchen to have some more of his coffee.

"—Did Bobby really unfire you?" Tommy called into the kitchen.

The tin of cocoa powder hit the floor with a clatter. "Who told you that? Was it Chim?"

[achilles-rage]

Return the Favour

summary: after buck saves reader when her apartment building goes up in flames, they run into each other at a bar. buck's on an awful first date, and reader decides to help him get out of it.

word count: 5.6k

request: I was wondering if i could request a story about Evan Buckley saving a plus size reader for like a fire or some dangerous situation and they're both attracted to each other but neither of them acts on. A few weeks later or so Buck is actually saved by reader while he's on a bad date he's trying to get out of and (like she makes up an excuse for him or plays along with something he says) and he ends up asking her out.

A/N: i'm sorry this took so long but it's finally out and i may have gotten carried away! this was my first buck request, and it was really fun! and i'm so used to writing good luck charm now that i had to search "evan" and change them all to "buck" at the end LOL also i threw in some abby shade, can you find it?? hehe. anyway, enjoy <3

warnings: reader is caught in a fire, no use of y/n, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

You wake up in the middle of the night to the fire alarm in your building echoing off the walls of your apartment. You’re immediately disoriented, as the booming sound makes your ears ring and your head spin. You jump out of bed and make your way out to your living room, and your breath catches in your throat when you see the smoke quickly filling the room. You make your way to your front door, but jump back in pain as the flat surface burns the back of your hand.

Dread fills your belly as you look around the room frantically. You see your cat cowering under your kitchen table, and you quickly run to grab her before she hides under anything where you won’t be able to reach her. You grab her and she lets out a loud meow, but you keep her squirmy body in your arms as you make your way to your window.

You’re four storeys up, and your landlord has still not fixed your fire escape, although you’ve been asking for months. Either way, you throw open your window, hoping to get some fresh air as smoke fills your lungs and burns your throat. 

You run to your room and grab your phone, quickly dialing 9-1-1 as tears form in your eyes.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the operator asks.

“3246 Weston St. My apartment building’s on fire.” you tell her frantically, phone pressed between your ear and shoulder as you struggle to get onto the fire escape with your cat still in your arms.

“Yes, we know about that. I see fire escapes on the outside of the building. Can you get down?” she asks you calmly, and you feel an odd sense of calm fill your body as her voice fills your ears.

“It’s broken, there’s no ladder. My landlord won’t fix it.” you tell her softly, squeezing your cat to your chest as more tears start to fall.

“What’s your name?” You answer her, sniffling softly.

“Hi, I’m Maddie. We’re gonna get through this together, okay? There’s already firefighter’s on the scene. Can you tell me what side of the building you’re on?” You shake your head, but then reply quickly, knowing she can’t see you.

“I don’t see any. I’m on the back side of the building, on the fire escape. On the fourth floor.” She mumbles an “okay” as she types on her computer. 

“Alright, I’m sending a team over to you, they’ll be right there. Is it just you in your apartment?”

“Just me and my cat.” you mumble, feeling a little silly at your response. The smoke is starting to waft out onto the fire escape, and it makes you cough loudly.

“I’m gonna stay right here with you, okay? We’re gonna get you down. The firefighters should be there now. Do you see them?” You wait for a moment as you look down at the ground, and your heart drops once you see the bright lights turn the corner.

“I see them.” you whisper, holding your cat tighter as the sirens spook her. You barely even hear Maddie’s response as your heart hammers in your chest. You make your way to the railing of the fire escape, watching as the aerial ladder is extended up to you.

You let out a sigh of relief once two very attractive firefighters are almost up to you on the ladder. You can’t help the embarrassment filling your body as you look down at your oversized shirt, with no bra, just long enough to cover your short spandex shorts, but you’re too happy to finally get off of your fire escape that you don’t care. 

“Eddie, you get the cat, I’ll get her.” one of them speaks, and the other one, Eddie, nods as he holds out his arms towards you.

You let out a soft sigh before you hand your cat to him, watching nervously as he starts making his way down the ladder with your cat twisting around in his arms. Buck takes this moment to trail his eyes down your figure, taking in your thick thighs and soft tummy. You’re absolutely gorgeous, but there’s no time for that.

“Alright, let’s get you down.” Buck tells you, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours. You cross your arms instinctively as your eyes trail down the ladder. He senses your fear, and holds his hands out.

“I’m Buck. What’s your name?” he asks when you don’t make a move to the ladder. He sees the gears turning in your head as you mumble your name, and he smiles softly, rolling it around on his tongue, committing it to memory.

“It’s okay, I’ll be right behind you the whole time.” he says softly, trying to coax you out onto the ladder. Your eyes move to his hands before going back up to his face, and you nod slowly. You put your hands on the railing, ready to hoist yourself over the railing and onto the ladder.

“Alright, I’m gonna hold onto you to keep you steady. Is that okay?” he asks, and you nod as nerves fill your belly. He grabs onto your plush hips firmly as you swing one leg over the railing, and he helps guide your other leg over the ladder until your bare feet are on the ladder. 

“There you go, I got you.” he whispers once you’re pressed against him. He moves one hand off your hip and grips the railing of the ladder, then urges you to start making your way down backwards, with him going down first behind you. 

You close your eyes for a moment and let out a shaky breath, then start to move once you open your eyes again. He keeps one hand on your hip the whole way down, keeping his body tense in case you slip. He tries to keep his eyes respectfully on the back of your head, but he can’t help it when his eyes trail down to your ass, just barely covered by your shorts as your shirt rides up.

“You’re doing so good. Just a few more steps.” he speaks once you’re almost to the bottom of the ladder. You smile softly at his words, despite the way your heart is pounding out of your chest. His presence calms you.

Once you’re finally down on the ground, you turn to him with a shy smile. 

“Thank you.” you say softly, looking up at him.

“Of course. You should get checked out. Make sure you didn’t inhale too much smoke.” he tells you, returning your smile. Now that he has the chance, he studies your face. If he was still the old Buck, he would ask you out, loving your sweet voice, pretty face, and gorgeous body. But he doesn’t date people he meets on the job anymore, and he’s cursing himself for that rule right about now.

You let him take you over to the ambulance, and you’re surprised when he stays there with you. The fire is for the most part out, as a few other stations were also called, so he doesn’t feel bad staying with you. He stands in front of you as Hen checks you out, taking your cat from Eddie while he waits.

He can’t help but strike up a conversation as he pets your cat, desperate to know more about you. He asks where you’re from, and what you do, and even manages to ask if you’re single. He doesn’t flat out ask that question, but after asking about your apartment, he learns that you don’t often have people spending the night, and he’s relieved.

You learn more about him too. You learn that his sister is the operator that you spoke to on the phone, and that he’s from Pennsylvania. He tells you a little about his travels before he landed in LA, but there’s not much time to go into detail, as Hen finishes looking you over quickly.

He hands you back your cat, and your hands brush each other’s as you take her back. You both freeze at the small contact, lingering for a moment too long.

“Well it was nice to meet you. Thanks again.” you trail off as you look up at him. You want to see him again, but you’re sure he’s just this nice with everyone while on the job.

“Yeah, it was nice meeting you too. Do you have somewhere to go tonight?” His voice has a hint of concern, thinking about you having nowhere to go. He lets out a relieved sigh as he sees you nod.

“My friend lives a few blocks away. I can get an Uber over there.” you reply.

“We’ll wait with you. Don’t want you alone out here.” Your smile widens at his kindness, and you can feel your cheeks heating up at his insistence, although you’re sure it’s probably just protocol. You feel butterflies in your tummy at the idea of him wanting to stay, regardless of the reason. 

In reality, he just wants to spend more time with you. He’s on the verge of asking you out, but as your Uber pulls up, he decides he shouldn’t. Maybe it’s better this way, he thinks.

You thank him once again before you get into the Uber, also thanking Eddie and Hen quickly, who are standing back and watching you and Buck with raised brows.

Once you’re in the car and it’s finally out of sight, Hen and Eddie can’t help but laugh. Buck turns to them with furrowed brows, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“What?” he asks as he fights back a smile, still thinking about you.

“For a second I thought you were gonna invite her to go home with you.” Hen teases him, bumping her shoulder with his as they walk back towards the front of the ambulance, which is right behind the fire truck.

“I don’t date people I meet on the job anymore; you know that.” he says with a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“That’s a shame. You two were really hitting it off.” Eddie adds onto Hen’s teasing, smirking as they all walk side by side.

“Yeah, I know.” Buck murmurs, getting slightly upset. He’s starting to regret not asking for your number; he’s already desperate to see you again. 

He’s forced to push it aside quickly, however, as he hears Bobby’s voice over the radio calling the three of them to the front of the building for triage.

A few weeks later, you’re still staying with your friend, Jordan. You’re lucky, the fire had only gotten to a small part of your apartment, and most of your things were left untouched, but you still aren’t allowed back in your apartment. You immediately told her all about the cute firefighter, of course, and she was almost as upset as you were that you didn’t try to ask him out. 

You can’t help but think about him still; he’s the most attractive guy you think you’ve ever seen, and he’s kind, and funny. Either way, you were way too nervous at the time, and he was on the job. Even if you didn’t meet while he was working, you don’t think you would’ve said anything anyway. And he hadn’t said anything either, so you try your best to forget about him.

Buck spends the next few weeks thinking about you too. He even tried a dating app or two, hoping your photo would pop up on his screen, but to no avail. He thinks about your pretty face often, but his mind also seems to wander to your soft curves, and how your thick thighs were on full display for him to take in in your shorts.

He finally agreed to go out with another girl he met on an app, deciding he should just move on rather than driving himself crazy. He knows he could ask Maddie to pull up the call log and he could get your number, but he knows that would be weird. And a little bit creepy.

He’s sitting in a small bar close to his apartment, a small, absent-minded smile on his face as he stares across the table at his date. This is the longest date he thinks he’s ever had. It was very clear as soon as his date started talking that she has no interest in actually getting to know him, the first give away being that she chose the dimly lit dive bar. While he wouldn’t necessarily say no to it, that’s not really what he’s looking for anymore. 

He’s listening to a story of when she went on vacation to Colombia when he hears a soft laugh coming from the bar. His eyes trail over and see you standing there, talking to what he assumes is two of your friends.

His throat goes dry as he takes in your figure, studying your soft curves and slightly revealing outfit. He can hardly hear the woman across from him now, studying your every move and expression.

He tears his eyes away from you after a moment and refocuses on his date, not wanting to seem rude. He keeps his eye on you out of the corner of his eye, however, ready to run after you if you leave before his date ends.

He keeps listening to his date, who has barely let him get a word in, but he looks very clearly bored. He can’t help it; he tries to reply every time she pauses, but his heart is pounding. He finally found you, and it was a complete coincidence. Like fate.

You don’t notice Buck right away; you’re so wrapped up in your little girls night out to even look around the bar. It’s not until your friend Jordan points to him, saying how hot he is, that your eyes finally land on him.

You can’t help the smile that breaks onto your face, and your eyes are trained on him for a few seconds until Jordan’s voice finally breaks through your haze.

“What?” she asks with a small laugh, and her smile fades when she sees the way you look over at her with a dazed expression

“It’s him. The firefighter.” you tell her, biting your lip as you look back over at him.

“You have to go talk to him. Before you lose him again.” Jordan tells you with a gasp as your other friend, Alyssa, asks what the hell you two are talking about.

Jordan explains to Alyssa while you think her words over. You don’t think you have it in you to go over. Maybe if you were much more drunk than you are right now, but currently, you wouldn’t be able to will your feet to move. 

“He’s on a date. I can’t just interrupt them. And what would I even say?” you argue softly once she’s finished explaining, looking over at Jordan. You chew the inside of your cheek nervously. The girl he’s with is gorgeous, and you begin to think that he was definitely just being so nice to you because he was working.

“Look at him. He looks so bored. He definitely doesn’t want to be there. Go save him.” Alyssa chimes in after she’s caught up, eyes glancing between you and him.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t.” you mumble, turning back to the bar and ordering a cocktail once you flag down the bartender. 

“Actually, we’ll just get 4 shots.” Alyssa says, smirking as she looks at you sideways. “You just need a shot or two in you, then you’ve gotta get over there. Before it’s too late. You’re gonna regret it if you don’t.” she tells you once the bartender walks away to get the bottle. 

You sigh, shaking your head. But before you can speak, the bartender puts the shots down on the table in front of you. Jordan immediately puts a shot in your hand and lifts it to your lips. You begrudgingly swallow it, letting in a sharp inhale as you feel it burning your throat. 

Your friends then each grab a shot and throw them back, then Alyssa grabs the last shot and holds it out to you.

“Come on, you just need some courage.” she teases, and you roll your eyes again before you take the shot. You were planning on drinking tonight anyway, and whether or not you’re going to go up to him, you figure you might as well take the shots. 

A little while later, you can feel the alcohol coursing through your veins. You’ve been swaying softly to the music as you talk to your friends, but your eyes never stray far from Buck. You always end up looking at each other at different times, so neither of you know that the other person knows of each other's presence. 

“I think now is your chance. He looks ready to kill himself.” Jordan tells you over the music, and all three of you look over at Buck’s table. He has a smile on his face, but his eyes lack any real emotion. 

You take a deep breath, and before you can even think, you let out a soft “okay.” Your friends smile widely, both taking turns to fix various parts of your appearance to make sure you look perfect. Jordan smooths down your top while Alyssa fixes your necklace, and then they both look up into your eyes.

“Go get him. Your ass looks great in those jeans, he’s gonna love it.” You feel your cheeks heating up at Alyssa’s words and you laugh softly. You can feel your hands shaking, but you quickly push your nerves aside and finally make your way over to him. He saved you once, and now it’s time for you to return the favour, although this situation is much lower stakes. 

“Oh my God, Buck! Hey!” you say once you reach his table, a large smile on your face. His eyes are on you in an instant, and he smiles widely, unable to stop his eyes trailing down to your cleavage peeking out of your top.

You open your arms, and he stands up quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist while you loop yours around his neck. 

“Do you want help getting out of this date?” you whisper in his ear, and you smirk as you feel his slight nod against your skin. “Follow my lead.”

You pull back, barely even looking at his date as you continue to speak. You’re glad he said yes, or else this would be really awkward.

“I haven’t seen you in forever! How have you been?” You don’t even give him the chance to reply before you turn to the girl.

“How do you know my ex-boyfriend? He’s a handful, I’ll tell you that. Good luck.” you tell her with a smirk. You turn back to Buck and look at him with as much desire in your eyes as you can muster, not that it’s hard, and he matches your expression immediately. 

You know this will work; most girls don’t want to have to deal with a guy that’s still so close with their ex. You see the girl’s face fall slightly from the corner of your eye, and you look back to her, waiting for her answer.

“Oh, um, we don’t really know each other that well.” she replies with a small smile, and you can see the way she tenses slightly, starting to feel a little awkward.

“Lucky you.” you tell her with a soft laugh, looking back up at Buck, whose arm has found its way around your waist. Even still, he keeps his hand hovering over your skin, just close enough for no one else to notice, not wanting to make you uncomfortable just in case you came over just to be nice. 

“I’m sorry. I should let you get back to your date.” you tell her, an apologetic look on your face, although your eyes have no hint of remorse. “Oh, and Buck, are you still coming over tomorrow night? My roommate’s going out of town.” you tell him, licking your lips. He nods, in a daze. He knows you’re not being serious, but he can’t fight the images that his mind is creating. 

“Actually, it’s getting pretty late. I should probably go.” she mutters, standing up from the table and putting her purse over her shoulder. “It was nice to meet you. I’ll text you.” she tells Buck softly, but all three of you know she doesn’t really mean it. 

Once she’s out of sight, you turn to Buck, suddenly feeling your brain catching up to your actions. He senses your quick flip, and removes his arm from your waist, mumbling a quick “sorry.” 

“No, you’re good. I just don’t normally do stuff like this, and I’m just now realizing that. I’m sorry, maybe I had too much to drink.” you admit sheepishly, your face growing hot once again as you feel yourself rambling.

“No, I appreciate it. Honestly, I’ve been thinking about you since we met. I was gonna ask you out, but I sort of have this rule that I don’t date people I meet on the job.” he tells you, smiling down at you. He licks his lips as his eyes trace your face, studying it, memorizing it. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. He wanted to ask you out? The thought makes your stomach flip in excitement, and it causes a new wave of confidence to flow through you. 

“Well, you’re not working right now, right?” you tease him softly, a hopeful look on your face. 

“Yeah, I guess not. How about I buy you a drink?” he replies, his smile morphing to a smirk. You nod slowly, so focused on him that you don’t even think about your friends watching you from across the bar. 

You decide on something without alcohol instead once you get to the bar, not wanting to risk a hangover the next day. Your friends realize quickly that you aren’t coming back to hang out with them, and they’re happy for you. They keep an eye on you for an hour or so, but when they realize how into each other you are, they decide to leave.

You talk for hours, talking about anything and everything, until the bartender does final call, and you both realize how long you’ve been talking. 

“I guess I should get home.” you say with a sigh. Your cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so much, and you’ve drifted so close together over the last few hours that you don’t even notice his leg has settled between yours as you sit on the bar stools. You wouldn’t have to lean very far to connect your lips, you think to yourself.

“Or, you could come back to mine?” he asks with hope in his eyes. He knows he shouldn’t be asking you this; he wants to take you on a proper date first, but with the way you’re looking at him, he can’t stop the words that slip from his mouth. You bite your lip as you fight back a smile, but nod after a moment.

“Okay.” you murmur, and that’s all it takes for him to grab your hand and drag you to his jeep, but not before slamming some cash on the bar counter. You laugh as he drags you outside, amused by his eagerness. Once he gets to his jeep he pushes you against it, meeting your lips in a passionate kiss. 

A soft noise escapes the back of your throat as your back hits the door, but you happily kiss him back. Your arms make their way around his neck again and one hand lands in his hair, your fingers weaving through it. He keeps his hands on your hips, but he’s itching to touch you everywhere. 

He pulls back after a moment and opens the door, his pupils blown and his jeans getting tighter. You smile up at him and then get into the jeep, watching him dreamily as he makes his way to the driver’s side. 

He keeps his hand on your thigh the whole way home, rubbing your inner thigh with his thumb. He squeezes your flesh every now and then, smiling over at you each time, and once he pulls into his building parking lot, he’s quick to jump out of the car and jog over to your side. 

He keeps his hands on you the entire way up to his apartment, trailing up your sides, and once you walk into his apartment, he pushes you against the wall and meets your lips again in a dizzying kiss. 

He slides his tongue into your mouth, and both of your hands are clawing at each other, eager for more. His hands travel down to the back of your thighs, and he whispers “jump” against your lips. You hesitate for a moment, nervous about him lifting you up. He picks up on your hesitancy and pulls back for a moment with a smirk. He grabs the back of your thighs hard and lifts you up, pinning your back to the wall once again.

His lips are immediately back on you, kissing and nipping down your neck to your collarbone. You’re so focused on his lips on you that you barely have time to react to his strength. You’re not used to being lifted like this, and it makes desire pool between your legs. 

He pulls back from your neck and pulls you off the wall, keeping his hands under your thighs as he moves to the stairs. You look over your shoulder at where he’s heading, and your arms tighten around his neck as you laugh softly. Your head is spinning as he walks up the stairs; he lifts you up so effortlessly, and you can’t wait to see how else he puts his strength to use. 

He throws you onto his bed, staring down at you as you sit up on your elbows, chest rising and falling rapidly as lust overtakes every sense. He smirks as he takes in your body sprawled out on his bed. He looks down your body, taking in your chest, and your plush belly, and your thick thighs, and he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” he mumbles before he grabs your ankles and pulls you towards the end of the bed, making you squeal softly.

The next morning, you wake up naked in a room you don’t recognize, as you were too focused on Buck last night to notice anything around you. The events from last night flood your mind as you feel an arm firmly draped across your waist, and you can’t help the smile that breaks onto your face. 

You can hear his steady breathing from behind you, and you know he’s still asleep. It’s probably early, you think, as the hint of light coming in from the bedroom window looks like the sun hasn’t quite broken over the horizon.

You try to move his arm slowly, seeing his bathroom door connected to his bedroom. As you do, you feel his grip tighten, and he pulls you tighter against him.

“Where do you think you’re going? I just found you again, I’m not letting you go this soon.” he teases in a raspy voice, just barely above a whisper. You laugh softly and turn in his grip to face him, smiling as you take in his sleepy eyes and soft smile.

“I’m just going to the bathroom.” you whisper back, as if trying not to ruin the calmness surrounding you both. He groans, and finally releases you after a moment, but not before he leans in for a soft kiss. He turns to lay on his back, folding his arms behind his head to watch you walk to the bathroom. He smirks as his eyes observe your bare figure, licking his lips.

Once you’re done in the bathroom, you go back to bed, laying on your side beside him and resting your cheek on his chest. He grabs your thigh as you drape your leg across his hips, humming softly as he feels your soft skin. 

“You want some breakfast?” he asks after a little while, giving you both some time to wake up. You raise your head and rest your chin on his chest as you look up at him, nodding. He smiles as his eyes glance across your face, admiring the way the sun is hitting your face, having finally breached the horizon. 

He then leans down to give you a soft kiss, his hand moving from your thigh to your cheek. Once he pulls away, you keep your eyes closed for a moment, reveling in his touch and warm gaze.

“What kind of breakfast?” you whisper once you open your eyes. He shrugs before he speaks, still trying not to disrupt the comfortable quiet surrounding you.

“Anything you want. Eggs, waffles. I’m pretty skilled in the kitchen.” he teases, winking. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. How is he still single? Cute, kind, smart, and a good cook? You can’t believe it.

“Do you have strawberries and blueberries?” you ask softly, smiling once he nods. “Let’s make waffles.” 

He nods at your words, sighing loudly and stretching before he sits up slowly. You move off of him and watch as he gets up and puts on some grey sweatpants, and your eyes wander down his body quickly, making him chuckle. 

You get up and find your bra and panties on his floor, putting them on quickly. You debate on putting back on your jeans and top from last night, afraid Buck’s shirt wouldn’t fit you in a cute oversized way, but you decide against it. It’s too early for jeans, and with the way he was worshiping your body last night, you don’t think he’d turn down the opportunity of watching you walking around his kitchen so exposed.

He pulls you into another kiss once you’re semi-dressed, his hands making their way to your cheeks. You smile against his lips, and bite your lip gently once you pull back, and he keeps his eyes closed for a moment. 

“Jump.” he whispers after a moment, and you oblige this time, letting him lift you in his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he makes his way to the stairs.

“You really don’t have to carry me everywhere, you know.” you say with a soft laugh. You turn your head to watch where he’s going, arms tightening around his neck instinctively as he reaches the stairs.

“Nuh uh, come on. I saw your face last night. Don’t lie, you love it.” he teases you, squeezing your thighs. You shake your head and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you realize that he noticed. 

Once you get to the kitchen he sets you down on the counter, his hands lingering on your hips as he tries to memorize the sight of you, almost naked on his kitchen counter, your soft belly on full display for him. He backs away slowly as he takes one final look, then turns and starts grabbing ingredients from the pantry and fridge. 

You notice he’s making waffles from scratch, and your heart swells at the thought of him putting in so much effort. You try to tell him you can help, but he cuts you off, insisting that all he wants you to do is to “sit there and look pretty,” which makes you giggle. You can’t help feeling giddy around him; you feel like a lovesick teenager.

Once he’s finished with breakfast, you slide off the counter and make your way to the kitchen table. He brings the berries, the maple syrup, and some whipped cream over, and you both dig in.

He waits to see your reaction, and grins widely when he sees you moan softly in contentment, closing your eyes. You look over at him as he admires you, and you look down, smiling softly, not used to this kind of attention. 

“Can I take you out?” he asks you halfway through breakfast. He chuckles softly as you look up at him with a raised brow, and he reaches up to wipe a bit of whipped cream off your upper lip. 

“You already took me out.” you reply softly, licking your lips after his thumb brushes over them.

“That doesn’t count, we just happened to be there at the same time. I want to take you out for real. A nice dinner, maybe a walk or something after, get some ice cream. What do you say?” he corrects you, giving you a wink. You smile, nodding as you mumble a soft “okay.” 

Once you’re finished with breakfast, he leads you to the couch and wraps a blanket around both of you. You’re leaning against his chest and his arm is draped on the back of the couch behind you, which makes your stomach flip.

He turns on a movie, but you’re too busy talking and laughing with each other to really pay attention. As he looks down at your pretty face, his smile stays plastered to his face. He’s so glad he agreed to that God awful date, and that you were willing to help him out of it, because now that he has you, he never wants to let you go.

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[hisbucky]

Buck: So you lied to me. Bobby: I didn't lie, per say. Buck: You said everything was fine and now we learn that you had plans to leave?! Bobby, distressed: Son, please - Buck, wounded: Don't do that! Don't call me that! I trusted you, and you lied to me! *on the other side of the station* Eddie: Should we be doing something? Hen: I say we let them play it out. The station family drama has been a bit dry lately. Chimney: Not that it isn't fun to watch you pine over Buck and Tommy, but it gets old. Eddie, blushing: I do not pine! Ravi, muttering: Denial is not a good look on you.

[capseycartwright]

every little thing the sun shows, well it’s worth it

ao3 link

Buck should – he should be freaking out, right? He’d lived thirty-two years of his life without coming close to kissing another man, and it should be making him freak out that tonight, he did – but Buck felt flooded with the oddest sense of calm he’d ever experienced in his life.

He’d kissed a man.

or - after his kiss with Tommy, Buck goes to Hen.

Buck can’t help but bring his hand to his lips as Tommy leaves, fingers brushing gently against where the other man’s lips had been just a few minutes previously.

The other man.

Buck should – he should be freaking out, right? He’d lived thirty-two years of his life without coming close to kissing another man, and it should be making him freak out that tonight, he did – but Buck felt flooded with the oddest sense of calm he’d ever experienced in his life.

He’d kissed a man.

He’d kissed Tommy Kinard.

The giggle escaped his mouth before Buck could even try and contain it, and one turning into a fit of laughter faster than he could control, Buck unable to wipe the smile from his face as he grinned. He’d just kissed Tommy Kinard – and he’d really fucking liked it, actually. It had been different, that much he was certain of – the way Tommy had tugged Buck closer, two fingers under Buck’s chin, purposeful and confident as he responded to Buck’s weak attempts at flirting with a kiss. Tommy had been solid, under his trembling hands, broad and big and nothing like Buck had ever experienced before.

And he’d liked it.

Buck was moving before he could even really think about it, his feet somehow knowing where to take him, on autopilot as he slid behind the wheel of his Jeep, too lost in his own thoughts to realise that the radio had been switched to some criminally bad pop music station (Eddie’s doing, he was sure), the music background noise as he drove, replaying that kiss over, and over, the phantom drag of Tommy’s facial hair against the sensitive skin of his upper lip a feeling he was sure he could come to get very used to, if he was allowed a little more kissing.

Buck was parking up in front of Hen and Karen’s house before he even realised where he was – but, now he was actually thinking about it, he wasn’t sure where else he would have gone, there and then. Hen was – Hen was another big sister, to him, and a lesbian big sister at that, so she was the right place to come in the midst of his –

Buck didn’t want to call it a crisis. He didn’t feel like he was having a crisis. But he was definitely experiencing something – and Hen would understand, he knew.

Knocking softly, so as not to wake up Denny, Buck waited patiently for someone to answer. He hoped Hen would answer. He wasn’t sure if he had the words to explain to Karen that he needed to speak to her wife because he’d kissed a boy for the first time in his life, and he’d liked it.

“Buck?” Hen answered the door with a raised eyebrow.

“Tommy Kinard kissed me,” Buck blurted, because why beat around the bush, right? He might as well dive right into it. “Tommy kissed me,” he repeated, in an effort to sound somewhat less manic. “And I liked it. I wanted him to kiss me.”

Hen’s surprised expression morphed into something softer, and she gestured for Buck to step inside, closing the door softly behind him. Gently – always gentle, because Hen was the gentlest soul Buck had ever known – she sat him down on her couch, bustling around the kitchen for a couple of minutes before she reappeared with a steaming cup of tea.

“Chamomile?” Buck breathed in the familiar smell, knowing that Hen would have added honey – the good one that Karen always bought at the farmers market – the sweetness a familiarity he had come to be grateful for over the years. “No tequila?”

“This is a tea conversation,” Hen replied firmly, sitting next to Buck on the couch. “So. You kissed Tommy.”

“He kissed me,” Buck corrected, because he didn’t want to take credit for the way Tommy had leaned in and kissed him, confident in a way that Buck wasn’t – not yet, at least.

“And you wanted him to?” Hen repeated Buck’s own words back to him, gentle even in the way she pried.

“I didn’t know I wanted him to until he did, if that makes sense,” Buck’s brow furrowed. “I – I didn’t know why I was so jealous, that he was spending so much time with Eddie. I thought I was jealous that he was replacing me in Eddie’s life.”

“But that wasn’t why you were jealous?”

“It was, a bit,” Buck admitted with a grin. Hen laughed, and Buck felt himself getting comfortable, genuinely comfortable. He – he’d never talked to anyone about his sexuality before. An hour ago, he thought he was straight. “But I – I think I was jealous that Tommy wanted to spend time with Eddie, and not me.”

Hen’s smile was soft, her expression new – it was new, he supposed. He was Hen’s annoying straight little brother, deep conversations about queer identity were new territory for them. “Was it a good kiss?”

Buck let out a spluttering breath. “Hen!”

“Oh, come on! You look like you’ve sat down and had a beer with God himself Buck, I’ve got to ask if it was a good kiss.”

Buck had been kissed a lot in his life. He didn’t say that to slut shame himself – that usually earned himself furious glances from Hen, and Eddie – it was the truth: he had been kissed a lot in his life, by people he loved and by people he’d only just met – and kissing Tommy had been nothing like he had ever experienced before.

“It was a good kiss,” he admitted, worrying the corner of his lip, his face burning as he spoke. “It was a really good kiss.”

“It sounds like there’s a but coming,” Hen drawled, taking a long sip of her tea. She knew Buck too well, sometimes. He supposed that was why he came here, to her – he could have gone to Maddie, or Eddie, or Bobby, even, but Hen had been the person he’d come to. He needed to be seen, there and then.

“But – how did I not know? How have I lived thirty something years of my life and not known I’m into guys that way?”

That was the confusing part, Buck had decided – he had never really even questioned his sexuality, shouldn’t he have questioned it long before now? Spent years being tortured with this great big queer secret he was carrying around?

Hen was quiet, for a second, contemplative. “There is no one queer experience,” she began, pausing again. “Some people – they don’t know until they know. There’s no requirement to have your big gay crisis when you’re fifteen, Buck.”

“That’s the thing – I don’t feel like I’m having a crisis,” Buck sighed. “That’s what makes it more confusing.”

At least – at least if he was having a crisis, he might be able to put words to the strange mix of feelings churning in the pit of his stomach, none of them bad, all of them unfamiliar.

“How do you feel?” Hen asked, giving Buck a gentle nudge.

He –

How did he feel?

Buck felt like he was on cloud nine, for one. He was still replaying the kiss with Tommy over, and over, in his head, remembering the way Tommy had lifted Buck’s chin, the way Buck’s heart had thudded to what had felt like a dramatic stop as the other man had moved closer, Buck forgetting how to breathe for a second when Tommy kissed him, soft, and gentle. He was excited, too, thinking about Saturday at eight. What would he wear? Where would Tommy decide to take him? Should Buck offer to pay?

Buck felt – well, he felt like every part of himself he had never understood had clicked into place, the puzzle that made up Evan Buckley finally taking shape and making a picture Buck could see himself in. Buck felt like everything in his life made infinitely more sense now, strange interactions and friendships making more sense as he looked back on his life with queer-tinted glasses, hindsight lifting a haze of confusion he’d carried with him for his entire life.

Buck felt –

“I feel like I can breathe properly, for the first time in my life,” he finally managed, tears rolling down his cheeks before he could even attempt to blink them away. That was the truth of it – Buck felt like he could breathe, his chest free of the strange tightness he’d felt for as long as he could remember. Buck felt like he was free.

Hen’s watery expression reflected his own, her voice gruff with tears as she spoke. “Welcome to the club, Buck,” she smiled, reaching for Buck’s free hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “We’re happy to have you.”

Buck couldn’t help the half sob, half giggle that escaped his throat as he let Hen’s words wash over him. All his life, he’d been searching for a place he belonged, bouncing from job to job, bed to bed, and state to state, all in a desperate search for belonging. He’d found it – mostly – with the 118, but there had always been something that was missing, something he’d never had the words for.

The something was this – queerness. He was a part of a community he knew would fill that missing piece in, colour it in liberation and freedom and wrap him up in something bigger than himself.

Buck leaned into Hen’s embrace, his tea long forgotten on the coffee table, Hen’s warmth more of a comfort than the chamomile could ever be. “I’m so happy to be here,” he replied wetly, Hen’s arms wrapped tightly around him, and, well -

It was the truth. He was happy. Happier than he’d been in a long time. The happiest he’d ever been in his life, maybe. Happy, and free – and bisexual. Evan Buckley was bisexual. A bisexual man who had a date on Saturday, but he’d have time to freak out about that later.

For now, he was going to enjoy the way breathing came easier than it ever had done before.

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

This has most definitely been said before, but we were robbed of the core four quarantining on-screen together at Buck’s place. ROBBED I say

[qwordavoider]

@brokenpiecesof Here is more of my 122 transfer fic 🚒 following the cliffhanger that ended here

-

“You’re leaving?! Of course, you’re still making it all about you. Grow up, Buck. I came back from Texas for the 118. You can stay too.”

Buck looks Eddie dead in the eye as he responds calmly despite his heart hammering on, “I’m sorry my grief is inconvenient for you, Eddie, but you moving back from Texas has no impact on me- my decision.”

Buck hesitates at the end of the sentence because he’s shocked at how true it feels. Yes, Eddie's return impacted him, mostly because he was being forced to find a new place to live. But outside of that? He didn’t feel any relief or joy at his best friend's return.

He didn’t feel much these days in general. There were brief moments where he felt something, like getting to see Chris again, ziplining between the buildings to escape the collapse, or meeting baby Bobby for the first time. But more often than not, he felt untethered yet heavy at the same time. 

But Buck couldn’t begin to explain that to everyone. He could barely understand it himself. And right now was not the time to try. Eddie was still yelling, and it was essentially a repeat of what he said that night in the kitchen. Thankfully, this time he said it without touching him.

He looked past Eddie to where Hen and Chim were watching everything unfold. Hen was alternating between frowning at Eddie and facing Buck with a look that could only be described as understanding. Chim just looked confused at Eddie’s outburst and unsure of how to handle the situation. 

He focuses long enough to catch the tail end of Eddie’s rant, “Fine, runaway. Shut us out just like you did when you sued the department. Turn your back on this family again.”

Buck scoffs at that, “Turn my back? I have been reaching out, trying to keep us together. To keep me together,” Buck hates the way his voice cracks, “But everything is still falling apart, so I’m done.”

He turns to head to the roof, needing to clear his head. He mutters as he walks away, “Some family,” and then a little louder, “Enjoy breakfast.”

-

Make me write

tagging other people who have also sent asks about this fic: @moonydanny @chococara25 @drdone @tyrusshipper12 I will still answer all of yours, I just didn't want you to miss out on this since I know the last snippet was a cliffhanger 😌