#i didn't really read over this so there's probably some spelling/grammar errors oops

[cjlouwho]

i know you didn't ask for prompts but if you get a chance could you write something where tommy is in trouble (maybe during the bees chaos) and kinda has to rescue himself? like his helicopter crashes or something idk! sorry if this is a bother!

well this became a whole thing, so thanks for that! Also, you can send prompts anytime. I can't promise when I'll get to them, but I always try.

ao3 link

He was used to waking up to the sound of birds. He had a tree right by his window and, while none of them ever made a nest, there were plenty of birds that liked to stop by for a visit.

He'd worried about it when Evan first started staying over. Some people hated the sound of the chirps first thing in the morning, often starting before the sun was up.

But the first time Tommy woke up with Evan in his house, expecting him to be beside him in bed, he was surprised to find him squatted down and staring out the window.

“Morning.” Tommy's voice was husky of the morning. He blinked a few times to adjust to the sunlight shining in from the open window.

Evan turned to him with a smile. “You have blue birds. I think I saw a cardinal too, earlier. It was quick though. A finch got a worm in the dirt by the roots.” He looked back, nearly pressing his forehead to the glass, “This is so cool.”

Tommy was pretty sure he felt his heart swell twice it's size that day. He's also pretty sure that was the moment he fell in love. He didn't say it then, waited a couple more months for that. They'd only really been going out for a few weeks at that point, but he still felt it.

And it was a damn good feeling.

Everyday with Evan was a good feeling. He loved going out with him, or staying home. Loved to hear him go on rants about whatever research he'd been doing lately. He loved coming home to Evan cooking in his kitchen, or napping on his couch. He loved the texts they'd send each other during shifts. Tommy would often get ragged on about how often his phone would ding. “Are y'all sexting again?” his co-worker would ask with a snort. Tommy never told them that, most of the time, Evan was actually sending him the most G-rated photos of all time, and it was absolutely adorable. Like the one where he was holding a baby duck that they'd saved. Or the one where he was frying pork chops and had to take a selfie with them because they turned out so good. Or the one where Christopher dropped by the station for a visit and Evan snapped a picture with him while Chris was mid eye-roll. Those were his favorites.

He loved the phone calls with Evan too. It didn't matter if they'd been with each other all night, and left for work at the same time, and would be seeing one another right after their shift was over. When it was a quiet day at work, they were always reaching into their pockets to call one another. Sometimes at the same time.

Tommy loved the parts of Evan that Evan didn't love about himself. He loved that Evan was clingy, love that he talked a lot, loved that when he got something on his mind he had to do it and it had to be done right.

Tommy loved how aggressively he loved his family and friends.

He loved the grumpy side of Evan, and loved that Evan seemed to love Tommy's grumpy side too.

He also loved the look on Evan's face when he was about to come. Loved how their bodies fit together so perfectly, like they were made for each other.

Loved how easily he blushed. Loved falling asleep next to him, their bodies tangled together in one way or another. He loved waking up beside Evan. Getting to see his hair all tousled and the little drips of drool that would escape down the side of his mouth.

“That's a lot of things to love about a person,” Evan whispered into the darkness of the room. “Although I will forever deny the fact that I drool, thank you very much.”

Which, maybe the room wasn't actually dark, because Tommy still had his eyes closed.

He scrunched his face up, confused. “Was I talking out loud?” he asked.

“Mhm.” He could feel Evan's breath on his face. “Do you really love all that about me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then you should open your eyes.”

That was an odd request. It all felt odd, actually. Because when he and Evan woke up together, Evan always had a hand on him somewhere. His chest, his arm, his back, running up and down his side. Somewhere. But this time Tommy felt nothing.

Well, not nothing, exactly. He felt damp, actually. He felt damp and sticky and hot. Hotter than usual, but cold at the same time?

“What?” He mumbled out, confused.

“I said you should open your eyes.”

“Wh- Why?”

“Tommy!” Evan's voice was louder now, like he had a megaphone to Tommy's ear. “Open your eyes!”

Tommy's head jerked up in surprise, wincing from the sound. “Mmm,” he groaned. His body hurt all over. He didn't remember feeling sick before he went to bed.

But the more he thought about it, he didn't really remember going to bed.

He blinked his eyes open slowly. They felt so dry and scratchy, almost like they had sand in them. When they finally focused he expected to see his clock to his left, the time shining back at him. Expected to have Evan beside him, or cooking some elaborate breakfast in the kitchen.

Expected to see sunlight shining from between his curtains.

Instead all he saw was rocks, mud, and leaves.

Did they go camping? He definitely didn't remember that. And why the hell wouldn't they at least have a tent?

“Ev- Evan?” God, talking hurt. Felt like his throat was on fire.

He was lying on his stomach, but there was no pillow under his head. There was something there though. Something shielding his head from the mud and rocks and twigs below it.

He reached up with the hand closest to his head, the one that didn't feel like it had its own pulse, and felt his head.

A helmet.

That's when it came rushing back to him.

Emergency.

All hands on deck.

Transport aircraft to nearby facility.

Bees?

Bees.

He'd been flying a helicopter to a nearby rendezvous point. Every fire department in the district would be there.

All to fight the bees.

Sounded downright insane to him at the time. I mean, they were bees. Weren't we supposed to be saving those?

It wasn't until his bird made direct contact with the swarm that he realized the severity of the problem.

Tommy carefully unbuckled his helmet, letting it drop off his head.

He tried to focus on all the things that hurt, although it probably would have been easier to take count of the places on his body that didn't hurt.

There was a cold, sticky substance on the back of his neck. Blood, he was sure. His right arm had to be broken. He couldn't seem to move it, but the thump thump thump feeling that came from it was impossible not to notice.

His back was jammed, but nothing felt broken there. He could wiggle his toes a little, but his left ankle was definitely sprained.

Something... something was poking his side.

It was hard to get in a good breath, hard to keep his eyes open, but he forced himself to roll over so he could check his side.

“God!” He exclaimed through panted breaths as he turned, eyes squeezed shut against the pain. He looked down at his side to see a branch, about as round as a nickel, maybe five or six inches long, sticking out. “Damn it,” he gasped out. His good hand shakily reached out to touch around the wound, where blood was seeping out in a slow but steady stream.

He didn't try to pull it out. He knew better than that. He had no idea how deep the branch was pierced inside him, and no clue what it might have punctured.

All he knew was that it hurt like hell.

And the whole situation was almost too much for his brain to take.

He had so many questions.

Most importantly, where the hell was the helicopter?

He must've fallen out of it before it crashed to the ground, wherever it crashed.

His energy was draining quickly. He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and wait for sleep to take over. Wait for rescue, whenever it may come.

So, he let his eyes close. Let the pain begin to wash away. Let himself float until-

“I said open your damn eyes, Tommy!”

There was Evan's voice again, shouting at him so loudly.

Tommy's eyes jerked back open and the pain returned full force.

He couldn't stay here.

Couldn't let those damn, stupid ass bees win.

Couldn't imagine the embarrassment of people asking, “What happened? How'd he die?” and someone having to explain that it was bees! Sure, he survived war, but it was the bees that got him.

Hell no.

Plus, dying in general might not have meant much a few months ago.

But it meant a lot now.

Because now he had a boyfriend with abandonment issues, and he needed to get back to him.

So he pushed himself up to his knees, let a groan escape between his gritted teeth, and stood on his feet.

If he let out a yell or two, who needed to know?

And maybe this would be the point in therapy where his therapist would tell him you're worth surviving because you're a human being who deserves to live, not just because you're with someone. But screw that, because if Evan was the only thing that made him get out of this with his life, than that would have to be enough.

He was dizzy, it hurt to put pressure on his leg, there was more blood on his clothes than he cared to see, and he was pretty sure he'd also lost some hearing in his right ear.

He pressed his hand against the wound on his side the best he could without disturbing the branch. A whine escaped him and tears welled in his eyes. He'd been hurt before, been in pain before, but never like this. This was another level.

“Move,” he told himself, voice barely above a whisper. “Just move.”

So that's what he did. He began to walk, or limp, through the trees of wherever the hell he was in the hopes he was going in the right direction.

His body was cold, shivering even as sweat dripped down his face.

His teeth chattered and it felt like his insides were vibrating.

At one point he practically fell against a tree, barely kept upright by his legs that were getting weaker by the second.

He took a minute to breathe, nearly closed his eyes. But Evan's voice stopped him again.

So, he walked. He walked and he walked and then... and then he could smell something.

Not just something.

Fire.

And the world around him was fuzzier.

But it wasn't his eyes playing tricks. It was smoke.

The helicopter.

It had to be.

He picked up the pace. They might not have been able to find him, but maybe they had found-

“He's not here, Buckley.” God, Tommy hated that voice. “We'll put out a search for him but it's unlikely he survived this. Gotta face the facts, we lose people sometimes.”

“Whoa!” Another voice cut in. Sounded like Chimney. He liked that voice. “He's not worth it, Buck. We'll keep looking, okay? We'll keep looking.”

A few more steps and he could see them. Blurry, but there. He cleared his throat. “Look f- for who?”

At least thirty heads whipped in his direction.

“Oh my God, Tommy!” Now, that was a voice he loved.

He was surrounded in seconds, but Evan was first one there. The one to bring a hand to his back and cradle him as his body gave out. He was the one to help him to the ground while Chimney and Hen worked on his body, shouting things back and forth at one another.

A part of him wanted to close his eyes then, let them do their thing, but he didn't. He kept them open, and right on Evan, because that's what he'd want him to do.

*****

When Tommy woke up hours, or maybe days, later, it was in a hospital room. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd fallen asleep, or passed out, but it was clear that surgery had happened at some point. He'd blame the anesthesia, not all the trauma, for his loss of time.

Evan was in a chair beside him, holding onto his good hand, head resting by Tommy's thigh on the bed. Even in his sleep, he must've noticed something change with Tommy because he popped up quickly.

“Tommy,” he breathed out, and it looked like a year's worth of anxiety released in that breath. “H- Hi.”

Tommy managed a smile. “Hi.” His throat felt like sandpaper.

“Let me get you some ice.”

Tommy nearly pouted at the loss of Evan's touch, but he was back by Tommy's side in an instant, slipping a couple of ice chips into his mouth.

And oh my God did that ever feel good.

Evan's hand returned to Tommy's, and all felt right in the world again. He'd hear what all happened to him later. Didn't seem to care right now. He was alive, and he was with Evan, and he needed to tell him some things before he forgot them.

“You saved my life.”

Evan's eyebrows furrowed. “No, that was all you. We wouldn't have found you if you didn't find us first.”

Tommy pursed his lips together, shaking his head. “No,” he replied simply. “You.”

Evan smiled, held onto his hand a little tighter. Tommy knew what Evan was thinking. You're high as a kite right now and don't really know what you're talking about.

But that was the thing. His voice might be a little gravely, and his speech a bit slower than normal, but he never felt more clear-headed.

He needed Evan to know.

“Have I ever told you all the reasons I love you?”

Evan tilted his head, his smile growing even more. “No, I- I... I don't think you have.” There was that blush Tommy loved so much.

He took a deep breath. “Number one...”