#trucking career autonomy

[artisticdivasworld]

Autonomy in Trucking: Why Steering Your Own Wheel Matters

Today, let’s talk about something that’s crucial to our success out on the open road: autonomy. Now, before you think this is just another buzzword, let me break it down for you in plain old English. Autonomy is all about having the freedom and independence to make decisions that steer your business in the right direction—literally and figuratively. It’s about being your own boss, calling the…

[gemmahale]

Here's the thing. I'm in a red state, in a county that went red.

I knew that when I moved out here four years ago. (Yes, it was April 2020 and no, I do not recommend moving during a global pandemic.) I accepted that that would be part of it. I made my peace with it, and I do what I can to mitigate the effects.

I'm not scared for me (minus the bodily autonomy thing since my state now has a 12 week abortion ban, and the general fuckery of facists in power) because tbh, I'm white and cis-het passing.

I'm nonbinary and bisexual. Can't tell any of that unless I tell you, and I don't make it well well known. I use she/her at work, wear skirts and dresses, and respond to Mrs/Ms Gemma or Hale (actually folks use my legal first or last name 😉); though Dr. is preferred if I get the choice.

I fly under the radar as a quirky white woman. I'm relatively "protected."

In the wake of the election results rolling out, I'm apprehensive for:

Kallen, who is white-passing Cherokee and a disabled veteran. I've been party to how he's treated differently than I am - by the same checker at the store not more than 5 minutes apart. He moved out here after I established my career, so he had little to no input of where we moved to (other than "I want to be with you.")

My coworkers who already face harassment for being POC in the community (including foreign exchange students that come to do part of their PhD here because of the proximity to the university system). People have been chased out of their positions here due to the racism they've experienced.

My coworkers who would seek to have an abortion (I'm included in this myself).

The LGBTQ+ community here (remember - I'm not out out).

The immigrant and POC communities here

And folks beyond my immediate viscinity

A lot of the community operates on a "mind your shit" basis. But I have to look people in the eye with Trump 2024 caps on and answer their questions politely. I have to drive by trucks with religious bumper stickers and greet them and give them scientifically sound information.

I wanted to believe in a world that valued competency and skill; and then I remember: I was the only one that applied to this job in the boondocks, and we've struggled to get positions filled out here. And I know part of it is not because of the low cost of living or lack of proximity to major shopping centers/social options. 🙃

I'm poking around into what local groups I can get into and donate my time to. My job puts me in direct access with food security resources, so that's probably where I'll start. Perhaps tie into the LGBTQ community because I know there's an active group out here. (I want to get more involved in the community anyway.)

I have to swallow this fear I have of being connected to causes while in my position. Yes, my employer is technically neutral ground, but that doesn't mean I have to be. I am allowed to be civically involved, as long as I make it clear when I am working in a work capacity (branded gear, name tag, etc.) and as a private citizen.

I admittedly got spooked when I received a few letters (to my private address, mind you) stating that I was a poor representative of my institution because I didn't maintain my yard like I should when I first started. (It was a whole thing and got escalated up higher than it needed to and yeah. I still have those letters in my office.)

But folks are starting to know me, and I'm starting to know them too. I need to cast this fear I have aside and be true to my values - accessibility, inclusivity, equity, and justice.

[metabolizemotions]

The clinic scene was the best one so far. It told us how the immigrants were dehumanized n ill-treated but showed how they were treated with respect n care at the clinic. Carina was so kind, empathetic n considerate yet professional towards Beatrix. Beatrix's body language was so defensive n insisted she could speak English. She must have met many rude n condescending healthcare workers. Carina chose to speak Spanish to put her at ease n make sure she understood fully. She kept seeking consent, knowing Beatrix's rights n bodily autonomy were so violated. Then personally following up on her too.

Joey was well-incorporated into the diff scenes, esp the father-son duo one. His talk with Maya quickly escalating... Andy asking if they were done, Maya being like OMG yes! 😂.

I love this little scene n the one at the party where they hugged. They seemed genuinely happy. I wished this friendship was portrayed differently but I am excited to see in the next episode where they would be working side by side again. N Andy better be captaining hard. After all that captaincy drama, now we see Ross n Sullivan at the forefront?

I'm actually glad they didn't have Travis jump straight into another relationship n Vic straight back with Theo. Andy n Theo saying the speak Spanish too lol. Also a good contrast of their optimism n Joey's nihilism.

And the re-creation of the truck top scene, of them in the exact same positions. Jack is missing. Dean is gone. It is emotionally manipulative n I approve.

But the Tully part, no... really no...

Ross came in, compromised everything she said she was for Sullivan. After Surrera, they had been really pushing so hard for Tully, esp this season, filling in blanks n retconning details. Sullivan's more like lead now. So much screentime on him n Ross from the mundane to the dramatic. The others got so little. Even Andy's only captain n mostly background? They spent more time developing Beckett's arc than hers.

I wish they had just focused on the OG n wrap up their stories well. Instead of this forced romance n random new characters.

It's clear they really didn't want the longest-standing couple to be the main couple cos it's w|w. Even tho I'm not fully on board with how Beckett's redemption arc was handled, the way they didn't even consider Ross was wrong at all turned me off. Esp with her talk about wanting both love n career. N not wanting to play small n be a chess piece. After what she did that to Maya.

After the divorce, Andy's just been adrift, w random storylines that didn't move her forward. She became everyone's support n was only all about captaincy. Then they punished Maya's ambitions n made her focus only on family (not that she shouldn't n there are life stages but it's the framing - almost implying she should know her place). Why wasn't the show more about these women thriving at their careers n relationships, on top of their friendship? Vic too.

They really want to spin an illicit affair all the way into an undying love story... Like trying to build a castle on mud n kept decorating it...? After Sullivan fell out with Ripley over Claire - supposed love of his life. Then he told Andy that Claire was cold... n Andy was the one, then now...?

So Ross's sis was supposed to be the audience surrogate... I liked her, but sorry, she didn't win me over. Esp when this original truck scene reminded me of Vicley, whom I loved...

[superintendent-b]

If Alpha-Nine had civilian jobs what do you think they would be?

Ooohhg, fun question!! 😁 I actually think about this a lot, although in a very unserious manner. Sorry this took a while too, I struggle with writing (like heavy on the struggle) but I tried my best to give them in-character answers. Anyways! here's what I have for you…

Buck — for Buck, there's the obvious answer of fisherman. He's had a lot of experience with fishing and seamanship in his childhood, plus he has plenty of strength and stamina now as a Spartan. I don't see him being a particularly smart man so anything that requires higher education would not be a great fit for him. He could be a nice athlete coach too. We don’t know if Buck is interested in any sport but if we’re weighing in his role as Fireteam Osiris’ advisor and mentor, it could work.

Dare — if I'm being honest, it's hard to see her outside of ONI but considering she's a Section One agent, I think she’d be a good fit for a career like archivist, data analyst, or researcher. She might also make a good detective.

Romeo — he'd for sure be a business owner of some kind. I don’t see him being anyone's employee since he can be a little abrasive with authority figures. So it goes without saying that being in a position where he has autonomy/independence is best for him – plus I think he’s smart enough. Also taking into account his previous experience as a Merchant Marine, he could become the marketing specialist behind his business.

And a silly answer I will not give context for, Bartender. (Maybe bar owner…?)

Dutch — He could continue pursuing religious studies and philosophy. We know he studied religion and philosophy prior to being drafted, and sometime before then, he was a truck driver. A religious study degree could lead him to do non-profits or social work, but there's nothing directly related to the degree that fits Dutch. It's the same story with philosophy – though it's useful for understanding things like business or economics. That being said, why not become business partners with Romeo? They were pretty attached in Helljumper (tbh that was kind of just Romeo… my poor clingy boy.) Of course, he could always go back to being a truck driver, but according to Bad Blood that wasn't very fulfilling after being an ODST.

Mickey — in my personal opinion, he could be a firefighter. It gives him the chance to help others in his community, which we know he's all for, and it's dangerous enough that I think it could work for someone like him. He could also thrive as a political activist or (less likely imo) a political leader. Regardless, I think making money wouldn't be a big concern for him as he would be way more inclined to work for non-profits than someone like Dutch.

Annnd joke answer: GameStop employee.

Gretchen — unfortunately there's not a whole lot on her so anything I say would be pure headcanon. However, I don't think a desk job would make her happy. Despite her disability, Gretchen is still a dedicated and ambitious woman – I’d love to see her in the automotive mechanist/technician field or even just general maintenance and repair (again, there’s nothing to suggest she would, but there’s also nothing to suggest she wouldn’t.) On the other hand, I believe she'd be employed with Romeo and Dutch in whatever business idea they’ve cooked up. She served with them both for… however long… I like to think they became a family.

The Rookie — professional sleeper. 64k a year. I'm joking, Rooks can be whatever you want him to be :)

[oliversrarebooks]

Flair-Starved: Monica, the Attention-Starved Ball of Compressed Insecurity

Flair-Starved Masterlist

Omega. Her Flair is being able to absorb and copy an alpha's Flair.

Full of ego and bluster that covers up her deep well of insecurities. High-strung and intense. Tends to see people as with her or against her, with few shades of gray. 

Openly disdainful, rude and irritating to those she does not like. Very difficult to get to know.

Unfailingly supportive and loyal to the few that can get past her prickly exterior and endear themselves to her.

Comes from a rich and powerful and very traditional family, with a way too perfect alpha of an older sister who can do no wrong in their parents' eyes.

She is a very desirable omega, so between that and her successful alpha sister, her parents' expectations are for her to seek out the best possible alpha match.

Monica hates this with a burning passion. She can't stand her controlling and emotionally distant parents, is jealous of her sister, and intensely resentful that she was born an omega.

Very smart and is good at school mostly out of spite to her family. She uses her good grades and extracurriculars to get a scholarship to college. 

Her family only goes along with this because college is a great place for omegas to meet high quality alphas, not because they support her career ambitions. They laugh about her dreams, saying that she'll give them all up and settle down as soon as her hormones start to kick in (generally around the age of 19).

Her passion is food and cooking, but she's studying to try to become a dentist l in the hopes that that will guarantee a career with enough money to escape her family, particularly since single life can be difficult for omegas. 

Is open to bonding with an omega as long as she can find one who is tolerant of her no-alphas agenda.

Unfortunately for her, hormones really do hit her like a truck when she comes of age and she ends up being far too attracted to Tanya against her will.

Her hobby is playing acoustic guitar, one of the few things she finds relaxing.

Want: To become a completely independent omega capable of supporting herself, free of her oppressive family.

Need: Her distant and emotionally abusive family has left her intensely attention-starved, affection-starved, and touch-starved. Deep down, she needs to be accepted and supported for who she is and not what others want her to be.

Fear: That if she experiences too much desire for an alpha (or even for the wrong omega!) she'll be trapped forever in a relationship that strips her of her personality and autonomy. She fears that she can't have the relationships she wants without losing herself, and deep inside worries that no one would have her the way she is.

[louismichaelprieto]

Understanding the Challenges and Rewards of Car Hauling

Car hauling, a critical part of the automotive transport industry, involves moving vehicles from one location to another, often across vast distances. Car hauling services are in high demand for dealerships, individuals relocating, or auto auctions. While the job can be lucrative and offer the freedom of the open road, it also comes with its fair share of challenges. Understanding the rewards and difficulties of car hauling is essential for anyone considering a career in this field.

The Physical and Logistical Challenges

Car hauling presents several physical and logistical challenges that can make it a demanding job. One of the primary difficulties is managing the loading and unloading of vehicles. Each car must be positioned carefully on the trailer, ensuring it is secure and balanced to avoid damage during transport. This process requires both physical effort and precision, as improper loading can lead to costly accidents on the road. Drivers must know weight distribution and safety regulations governing the number of cars they can transport simultaneously.

Additionally, navigating various road conditions and weather can make car hauling more difficult than standard truck driving. Haulers must plan their routes carefully, considering low bridges, narrow roads, and regions where certain truck sizes are restricted. In bad weather, such as snow or rain, transporting valuable vehicles becomes even more challenging. Haulers are responsible for ensuring their cargo and themselves's safety in these conditions, often requiring delays and detours to reach their destinations safely.

Managing Time and Deadlines

Time management is a significant challenge in the car hauling business. Like many logistics-based jobs, car haulers operate under tight deadlines. Customers expect their vehicles to be delivered on schedule, so drivers often must adhere to strict timelines. However, the unpredictable nature of road travel can complicate these schedules. Traffic jams, road construction, and unforeseen mechanical issues can all cause delays, forcing drivers to adjust their plans and communicate with clients to manage expectations.

Drivers also have to comply with hours-of-service regulations limiting the number of hours they can be on the road daily. Balancing these legal restrictions with customer demands requires careful planning and efficient time use. Failing to meet deadlines can lead to dissatisfied customers and, in some cases, financial penalties. Thus, time management and adapting to changing circumstances are essential for successful car haulers.

The Rewards of Independence and Financial Opportunity

While car hauling presents many challenges, it also offers significant rewards, one of the most appealing being independence. Many car haulers enjoy the freedom of being on the open road, often working as independent contractors or running their businesses. This level of autonomy allows haulers to set their schedules, choose their clients, and earn more by managing their workload efficiently.

Financially, car hauling can be a lucrative career. The demand for vehicle transport services is consistently high, and experienced haulers who build a solid reputation can command competitive rates. Many haulers earn additional income by transporting multiple vehicles at once, and specialized hauling services, such as luxury or vintage car transport, can offer even higher payouts. For those willing to put in the work, the financial rewards of car hauling can be significant, making it an attractive option for individuals with the right skill set.

Building a Successful Car Hauling Business

For those looking to turn car hauling into a long-term career, building a successful business requires more than just driving skills. Business acumen is crucial, as haulers must manage customer relations, handle contracts, and maintain their vehicles to ensure efficient operations. Developing a network of reliable clients can lead to repeat business, which is key to sustaining a profitable enterprise in this competitive industry.

Additionally, investing in the right equipment is a critical factor in success. Car haulers must ensure that their trailers and trucks are well-maintained and equipped with the necessary tools for safe vehicle transport. This includes securing the proper insurance to protect against potential damages, which can be costly in the case of an accident. By prioritizing customer service and building a reputation for reliability and safety, car haulers can position themselves for long-term success.

The Future of Car Hauling

As the automotive industry evolves, so too does the car-hauling business. Advances in technology are likely to play a significant role in shaping the future of this field. From improved GPS tracking systems that streamline route planning to automated loading technologies that reduce the physical strain on drivers, innovations will continue to enhance the efficiency of car hauling. Electric vehicles are also becoming more common, and haulers may need to adapt to new regulations and handling procedures specific to these cars.

[immensetruckingsolutionsltd]

Unexpected Advantages of Pursuing or Transitioning to a Career in Trucking at Immense Trucking Solutions Ltd.

At Immense Trucking Solutions Ltd., we believe that pursuing or transitioning into a career in trucking can be a life-changing decision. Here are some unexpected advantages that may inspire you to take the leap and join our team.

Flexible Work Schedule

One of the most appealing aspects of a trucking career is its flexibility. Many trucking positions offer varying schedules, allowing drivers to choose routes that fit their lifestyle. Whether you prefer long-haul trips or local deliveries, Immense Trucking Solutions Ltd. offers options that cater to your personal and family needs. This flexibility can work-life balance, allowing you to enjoy your time outside work. 2. Competitive Salary and Benefits

Trucking can be a financially rewarding career. With the demand for qualified drivers continuously rising, salaries are becoming increasingly competitive. At Immense Trucking Solutions Ltd., we offer attractive compensation packages that include bonuses, health benefits, retirement plans, and paid time off. Many drivers find that trucking provides a stable income that can surpass other professions, especially as they gain experience and additional certifications. 3. Opportunities for Advancement

The trucking industry is not just about driving; it also offers numerous opportunities for career advancement. At Immense Trucking Solutions Ltd., we encourage our employees to grow within the company. Whether you aspire to become a fleet manager, logistics coordinator, or safety compliance officer, there are various pathways to elevate your career. Continuous training and development programs are available to help you acquire new skills and certifications, setting you up for long-term success. 4. Travel and Adventure

A trucking career can provide a unique opportunity to explore new places. This job allows you to see the beauty of various regions while earning a living. 5. Building Lifelong Connections

Working in the trucking industry allows you to connect with a diverse range of people, from fellow drivers to clients and suppliers. At Immense Trucking Solutions Ltd., our team is like a family, and many employees form lasting friendships on the road. The camaraderie among drivers fosters a supportive community that can make the job more enjoyable. Networking within the industry can also lead to new opportunities and collaborations. 6. Job Security and Demand

At Immense Trucking Solutions Ltd., we are always seeking dedicated individuals to join our team. As e-commerce grows, the need for efficient logistics and transportation will only increase. By pursuing a career in trucking, you can secure a reliable job with long-term prospects. 7. Personal Growth and Independence

A career in trucking can foster personal growth and independence. As a truck driver, you will develop essential skills such as time management, problem-solving, and self-discipline. The autonomy of driving your truck allows you to take ownership of your work and develop a strong sense of responsibility. Many drivers report experiencing increased confidence and self-reliance as they navigate their routes and manage their schedules.

Conclusion

If you’re considering a career change or a fulfilling job opportunity, the trucking industry—especially at Immense Trucking Solutions Ltd.—is worth exploring. With its surprising advantages, including flexible schedules, competitive salaries, and personal growth opportunities, trucking can provide a rewarding and exciting career path. Join us at Immense Trucking Solutions Ltd., where your journey on the road can lead to unexpected benefits and a brighter future.

[trukademy7]

Is Trucking the Right Career for You? A Road Map to Trucking Reality in Canada

A Road Map to Trucking Reality in Canada

The open road, the freedom, the sense of independence - trucking captures the imagination of many Canadians. But is it the right career for you? 

Before you jump behind the wheel of a behemoth rig, it's essential to understand the realities of life on the asphalt. 

At Trukademy, we believe in transparency. This blog post is your pre-trip inspection of the trucking world, illuminating its pros, cons, and everything in between.

The Beauty of Trucking:

Trucking isn't just a job; it's a lifestyle. You'll witness sunrises that paint the sky in breathtaking hues, traverse diverse landscapes and experience the pulse of the nation through vibrant cities and quiet towns. 

It's a career for those who crave autonomy and thrive on a sense of accomplishment. The satisfaction of delivering essential goods across vast distances, knowing you're playing a vital role in the economy, is unparalleled.

Challenges:

However, the open road comes with its challenges. Long hours, extended periods away from loved ones, and the responsibility of navigating a massive vehicle through unpredictable weather and traffic conditions demand resilience and focus. 

The isolation can be challenging, and loneliness can creep in on quiet stretches of highway. Living in a truck cab and managing basic needs away from home requires adaptability and resourcefulness.

Skills Required:

The image of a trucker gripping the wheel is iconic, but driving safely and efficiently is just one piece of the puzzle. Mastering pre-trip inspections, understanding load securement, navigating complex regulations, and complying with driver logs are crucial aspects of the job. 

Our comprehensive Pre-Trip Inspection Course equips you with the knowledge and practical skills to ensure the safety of your rig and cargo.

Licensing and Training: 

To hit the road legally, you need the right qualifications. Obtaining your Commercial Vehicle Operator's Registration (CVOR) is essential, and our CVOR training provides the expert guidance and preparation you need to ace the test. 

Additionally, a reputable Truck Driving School in Canada like ours offers Truck Driving Programs tailored to your needs, whether you yearn for long-haul adventures or prefer the hustle of local deliveries.

The Financial Landscape:

Let's talk about the bottom line. Trucking can be a lucrative career, with salaries generally well above the national average. However, the income varies depending on factors like route, experience, and company policy. 

Remember, long hours can translate to higher pay but also come with increased expenses like meals and truck stop accommodations. It's crucial to manage your finances wisely and understand the tax implications of this unique lifestyle.

Finding Your Trucking Niche:

The trucking industry is diverse, offering a plethora of options beyond the classic long-haul truck driver. 

Do you enjoy precise maneuvering? Consider specialized hauling of oversized cargo. 

Are you detail-oriented? Tanker hauling might be your calling. 

Refrigerated goods pique your interest, or the fast-paced world of local deliveries ignites your passion. Our experienced instructors can help you discover your niche and tailor your training accordingly.

Making the Call:

Trucking is not for everyone. It demands an independent spirit, a strong work ethic, and a knack for problem-solving. If you crave adventure, are comfortable with solitude, and possess a genuine love for the open road, then trucking could be your perfect fit. 

However, if routine and constant human interaction are essential for your well-being, or if the thought of extended isolation fills you with dread, it's best to explore other options.

Taking the First Step:

If the allure of the road lingers, take the first step! Attend our free information sessions at Trukademy. Hear from experienced drivers, explore our Driver Logs Course, and get a hands-on feel for a truck cabin. 

We're committed to providing you with all the information and resources you need to make an informed decision about your future.

Trucking is more than just a career; it's a choice. Choose wisely, choose honestly, and choose with your heart. Remember, the road will be long, but the journey can be an incredible adventure.

Contact Trukademy today for a free consultation and start your journey towards a rewarding career on the open road. We're here to guide you every step of the way, from getting your license to finding your perfect trucking niche.

[nonegenderleftpain]

It does get better.

My chronic pain didn't start until I was fresh out of high school, getting ready for a successful college career with a full ride to be an actor. Then it hit, couple with chronic fatigue, joint hypermobility, weight gain, and severe psychiatric shit that went treated all through school because I was smart, and therefore couldn't possibly have anything wrong with me. My life fell apart, and it's taken me eight years to fix it.

Prior to the disability, I was a nationally competing martial artist. I was a dancer and an actor and a performer all around, and I never stopped moving. I was going to be on Broadway. I was going to open my own martial arts academy and get my next black belt and be the shining star I was always told I would be. I'll never do those things. That has been harder than the pain, to deal with. I'll never go to the Olympics or act on Broadway or own my own business. But I'm about to go to school in the fall for theatre technology so I can build sets. I've started building a curriculum for disabled martial artists for the organization I competed in growing up. I'm a disability consultant for nonprofits, and I get to spend time sharing my knowledge with others to make their lives easier, so they don't have to go through what I did. I have a support network, and Medicaid, and SSI so I can have some autonomy. Yesterday, my fiance's mom dropped off a vehicle for me so I can get around - a truck, with space for my wheelchair.

It's not perfect. Far from it. Some days, the grief hits me like a truck. But I've built a life around my passions, even if I'm not doing exactly what I wanted, because those things are part of me, and disability cannot take away my passion and my heart. I won't lay down and die, and you shouldn't either. You'll find your niche and ways to do the things you love in whatever capacity you're able, because those things are part of you. Don't give up, kiddo. We're rooting for you. 💙

Chronic pain sucks.

I'm fourteen. I'm young to be here, to be in these communities, to even have fully-formed opinions on things. But I've been here. I've had years to idle and stare at the wall, thinking about all the things I wish I could say in a way abled people would understand. Had years to read blog posts, to quietly seek out disabled role models, to call myself disabled inside my head. Because that's okay. It's who I am.

I hate playing the "Sick Olympics". I've never not been in pain, but it really started when I was eleven. I've been through shit. I have friends who have been through more shit. You can drown in a few inches of water as much as you can in a few feet. I have to remember that.

I'm fourteen. I write. I've been writing since I was eleven. First, it was for fun, to make up little stories to dance in my head. Then, it was to pass the time, sitting in waiting rooms and pre-op and spinning on the never-ending hamster wheel of too much, not enough. Now, it's to express myself. To craft the representation I never saw when I so desperately needed it. To, someday, help others feel seen. I've been told I defy the odds. I'm taking a college class and a high school course load when I should be in 8th grade. I write. I think. I stare at the ceiling. The world passes me by.

There are days when all I can do is curl in a ball. I'll never be normal. I never have been. I'll never have the middle school experience, probably won't have the high school one. I missed two years of school, but somehow stayed grades ahead. My mind is the only part of me that's all mine, and sometimes, I can't talk straight. The fog sets in, and it's like every word has to wade through honey to leave my mouth, to be typed onto my screen. I'm breaking at the seams.

It'll only get worse. This rare disease, what it all stems from, it's degenerative. The glue that holds my body together is faulty. I stretch and I bruise and I hurt, and someday, it feels like I'll disintegrate. I don't know what to do. Sometimes, I'm trapped.

I know what I want to do. I know what holds my heart, my interest, my passion. I know I'll never do it. Some things, you aren't selling yourself short. Some things, it'll just hurt to pretend you could until you have to admit it.

I hope it gets better. I really do.

[txemrn]

Stay

Chapter 2: "Ten Feet Under and Upside-Down"

Catch up here!

Word Count: ~6835 (I apologize; it's a long one)

Series Summary: With her family facing deportation back to Auvernal, fun-spirited Reid Ambrose quits college to support her family. But as fate would have it, she accepts a temporary job as a caregiver for the royal family, an experience that will challenge her, break her, and devastate her world in the most exciting of ways.

Chapter Summary: An old face returns to Cordonia to work for the royal family. But even after almost a decade away, not much has changed, and he's more miserable than ever.

Series Warning: ⛔ Please Be Advised: 18+ Only ⛔This series will contain mature material, including foul language, NSFW 🍋, discussion/depictions of war, violence, gun violence, assassination attempts; medical situations, including major character injuries; ethical dilemmas including euthanasia & bodily autonomy; mental health, including depression, PTSD, suicide

Series Music Inspo: “Awake” by Secondhand Serenade

Chapter Music Inspo: "Storm" by Lifehouse

AN: Majority of these characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry. Special thanks to my amazing friend @kat-tia801 for prereading, and my sweet friend @ao719 for helping me dial-up a scene as well as pre-reading it. Also, you will recognize some items from canon; other items may be completely contradictory to canon. Just got with it, and enjoy the story. 😊

~🖤~

Present (as a reminder: 3 years after Leo's tragic birthday party)

Coasting into the assigned parking spot at his apartment complex, Drake Walker haphazardly downshifts his truck before ripping the keys out of the ignition. All the lights seem to be out in his place, which will work in his favor for a possibly quiet night at home. No talking, especially no arguing. Hopefully with his quick maneuvering, the rumble of his old pick-up won’t disturb his wife and son from their sleep.

Fuck. It did. A lamp in the master bedroom flickers on, a glow illuminating through the window. 

Drake lays his exhausted head on the steering wheel, unsure if he should turn back around and go back to his job and stay the night there. At least then he wouldn't have to hide himself, hide his emotions from his bride, pretend to be the man he promised her he would be.

Jodi doesn't deserve this. Any of this. The silent treatment. The avoidance. The denial of connection. She's too faithful, too fucking loving for her own good. Truth be told, her gentle answers, loving support, and abundant encouragement are the reasons Drake has been so successful both in college and starting his career as a physical therapist.

Why was he shutting down on her now?  

It all started about six months ago, when Drake found the crown prince of Cordonia wandering on their front porch of their newly-built Texas home. 

“Leo?” Drake cocked his head, furrowing his eyebrows in disbelief.  He hadn’t seen the tall blond since the aftermath of his birthday party almost three years ago. 

“Walker!” he extended his hand, striding widely to greet the commoner. “Long time no see, brother!”

Brother? Drake eyes the prince’s outstretched arm before hesitantly gripping it. Taking in Leo’s appearance, he notices a thick file folder under his arm, filled with what looked like a stack of disjointed documents with tabs and post-it notes.

“Jesus Christ, Texas is fucking hot,” Leo chuckled, dabbing his forehead, but his perfect pearly white smile remained on Drake. “Beautiful place you got here.”

Always the charmer. “Yeah,” Drake shifted his gaze to the screen door, seeing a curious Jodi with their son Finn on her hip. He gave her a nod with the notion that everything was okay before turning back to his visitor. “Listen, Leo…” he clapped his hands, “um, what are you doing here?”

Leo snickered. “Straight to the point as always, Walker. Is there some place we can talk?”

“Right here is just fine,” Drake fired back quickly, not trusting the future king’s intentions. He folded his arms, leaning a shoulder against a wooden post.

“On behalf of the Cordonian royal family, we’d like to hire you.”  

Leo had offered Drake a full-time job to be the prince’s personal physical therapist. This, of course, made the commoner scoff, making it clear that he would never cross onto Cordonian soil again. Not for anyone, not even him.  But when he stormed inside, he was stopped by Jodi who had been listening.

“He traveled halfway around the world, Drake Walker,” she quietly scolded, “at least talk to him. We’re talking about your old stomping grounds, your family… I know they treated you like shit, but… at least hear him out. Maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet, you know? Let go of your bitterness.”

“Jo… I don’t know.”

“Think of the good example you’ll be setting for Finn,” she smiled, batting her puppy-dog eyes.

Fuck, she was good.

Luckily Leo hadn’t retreated too far away from their land.  Drake waved down his driver, and then invited Leo back to the house for a drink and for the opportunity to discuss his proposal. Once the crown prince was introduced to Jodi, the three of them sat down at the kitchen table while Finn took a nap on the couch.

Looking like an episode of Criminal Minds, the documents in the folder were carefully explained and spread out before the young couple’s eyes. It was a medical file, complete with lab test results, written diagnoses and prognoses by doctors, some of which were second and third opinions. Lists of medications, photographs of scarred skin, MRIs of nerve damage, degeneration and muscle atrophy: it was clear that there was a serious need.

But why him? Why Drake?

“We’ve already been through three therapists, and all of them have left us,” Leo answered somberly. “I’m not going to lie; it’s… difficult, and not just because your job is already difficult. But… he’s difficult.” Leo folded his hands on the table, mindlessly fidgeting with his thumbs. Suddenly something came over him, something more honest, something more human. “Please, Walker,” his voice shook before clearing his throat. “We… We need you.”

Drake quietly sits in the driver's seat in the stillness of the night, fidgeting with his wedding band as Leo’s words echo in his head. 

We need you…

He reminisces about his childhood in Cordonia, about games of tag in the hedge maze, fishing trips out on Lake Malus, and sleepovers on the back lawn of the palace with only his sleeping bag, a flashlight and comic books. 

But, along with the fond memories of his childhood came the bittersweet remembrance of his friendship with Liam. He was always there. Always–well, for the most part, at least up until the end. The prince was Drake’s confidant, his greatest support. He gave sound advice, but also knew when to sit, whether it was to listen or because Drake needed silence.

He didn’t turn his back on Drake even after he felt abandoned by his own family.

Maybe that’s why Drake finally agreed to this arrangement; maybe he felt indebted somehow to the royal family, to the memory of Liam being patiently supportive when tragedy struck. The sacrifice probably didn’t seem great to the leaders of a country, but to Drake, it was everything.

Never in a million years would Drake have guessed this would be his life, a selfless life of servitude to the royals, a miserable life putting them first before his own family. Just like his father. When he left Cordonia almost a decade ago, his decision seemed so certain, so clear, and he swore that he would never see any of these horrid people again.

He glances towards the orange glow, pouring from his bedroom window, and he worries about his marriage. The pent-up regret and festering anger has been building since the moment he stepped back onto Cordonia soil. The job was difficult, and it was near impossible to work with his ornery client. Drake returns home late every night with battle wounds on his heart.

But, tonight he suddenly feels an overwhelming sense of guilt as he watches the shadows shift against the ambient lighting.  Has he been silently taking out his frustrations on his wife? He’s trying to spare her his heartache by keeping it to himself; but in doing so, is he neglecting her needs?

Damnit, my family needs me, too.

He reaches into a secret pocket of his duffle bag, and pulls out two cigarettes. Tucking one behind his ear to chainsmoke later, he lights the other one, pulling in the deep burn. He combs his fringe out of his eyes before leaning back on his head rest, exhaling his smoky breath. But still, the haunting anxiety remains.

How the fuck did we even get here?

------

9 Years ago

A sudden loud clatter jolts nineteen-year-old Drake awake from his impromptu nap. Unsure of the time or how long he has been asleep, he intently rubs his eyes with his fists before succumbing to a large, vocal yawn, stretching his sculpted arms over his head. Quickly noticing the darkness outside, he reaches for his phone and notices the time.

1:24 AM

The fuck, Liam?

Last year, the young prince started his rigorous royal training in preparation for his older brother Leo’s ascension to the Cordonian throne. Being separated from his best friend, Drake quickly made himself busy around the palace, mainly serving as a stablehand, until Liam would retire from the evening.  But, with constant travels, the wearisome studies and the long diplomatic meetings, the two men discovered less and less free time to spend together. Liam was forming new bonds and new relationships with fellow dignitaries and politicians while his friendship with Drake was starving for a connection.  After a few short months, they were barely texting one another.

Today is Liam’s birthday, and the two men had agreed to finally catch up with drinks at the beer garden to celebrate. Drake came home early to make himself presentable before heading over to Liam’s quarters early.   He was nervous, not because he was finally going to come face-to-face with Liam, but he was anxious about talking with him.  Drake had come to an important conclusion, and having Liam’s support meant the world.

When he arrived to the room, no one answered the door.  The commoner let himself in with his spare key only to discover a dark room with the young prince nowhere to be found. 

After leaving multiple voice messages and sending off several unopened texts, Drake contacted Lars, Liam’s personal guard.

“Walker, you know it’s against protocol for me to tell you where he is at–”

“Lars, just… c’mon,” Drake sighed, “we had plans. Tonight. I mean, maybe he forgot? Or–or maybe he thought I stood him up?” The silence on the phone spoke loud and clear, giving Drake the answer he didn’t want. “When you find a heart, tell him I was looking for him.” Ending the call, Drake slumped into a leather loveseat in Liam’s bedroom.

Sitting alone in the dimly lit room, Drake was left to his own thoughts.  He remembers his mom lecturing Savannah all the time about the importance of the quality of friendships rather than the quantity of friends she claimed she had.  She would say kitschy phrases, like, “Some people come into your life for a lifetime while others come into your life for a season.” 

But the latter was for other people and their failed relationships; this didn’t apply to Drake and his childhood friend Liam. Right? They grew up together; they became men together. They’ve seen each other at their best and at their absolute worst.  They’ve rejoiced together; they've grieved together. Liam was his ride or die. 

Then why was it all of a sudden so goddamn hard to even be around each other, let alone talk to each other?

Drake rakes his fingers through his hair, finally resting his forehead in his hands as the racket continues.  First, he hears keys pawing at the door, like a cat to a scratch post, followed by poorly stifled giggles and even more obnoxious hushes. Finally busts open with an unkempt, very drunk Liam with lips glued to a shapely brunette, her dress already unzipped.

Drake clears his throat, causing the couple to jump apart.

“Drake!” Liam slurs, “Just the man I was looking for!” He glides towards his best friend, patting him on the shoulder before turning his attention to the woman in the room. “I want you to meet Lady… Lady… Latvia–”

“Actually, it’s Leilani,” she kindly interrupts, “Lady Leilani of Latvia.” She offers a crooked smile to Drake while Liam plays cool, snapping his fingers and pointing to her in acknowledgement that she was correct. She stumbles forward towards the commoner with an extended hand to shake while her other arm keeps her bodice covering her chest.

Raising an eyebrow at the trainwreck in front of him before glaring at the inebriated prince, Drake raises his voice. “We need to talk, Li.”

With Leilani giving Liam a concerned look, he walks up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist as he nuzzles his nose into her neck. “Can this wait until tomorrow?” Liam calls out, his words nasally and muffled against her skin.

Drake stands quickly with a heavy foot. “No.” 

With his friend’s words shooting through him like an arrow, Liam quickly gives a sober nod.  He whispers something into the young coed’s ear, causing her to giggle as he helps her back into her dress. She makes her exit, swaying her hips through the door, but not before she blows a kiss to Liam.

Liam catches the airborne kiss, touching his palm to his face as she finally exits the room.  “Isn’t she something?”As he turns to face Drake, the prince is met with a cold stare, a lump suddenly forming in his throat.  “Well,” Liam clears his throat as he makes himself comfortable on the side of his bed. “So, what’s up–hey! We missed you tonight, bruh” he jokes, finger-gunning towards Drake.

“‘Bruh’?” Drake scoffs. “I was here, Li… waiting for you… like we had planned.”

Liam gives him a funny look. “We did?” He shrugs off his sports coat, letting it crumple on the ground as he untucks his pale pink oxford. “Well,” the blond lays back on his bed, letting out a hefty exhale. “You should’ve joined us–”

 “Are you fucking for real right now?”

“Drake, relax,” he waves his hand flippantly in the air, closing his eyes. But, when he hears a loud sigh, he sits up on his elbows with one eye open.  "Wait… are you seriously mad at me? For not drinking with you? Last I checked–” Liam extends his arms above his head, allowing his head to hit the plush comforter. “It’s my birthday!”

“Fuck it,” Drake mutters, standing up to head for the door. “I’m leaving–”

“Whoa, whoa,” Liam jumps up to stop his best friend from leaving, tripping over his jacket on the way. “Seriously, dude,” Liam puts his hand to his chest as he begins to sing, “talk to me. Tell me your name–”

Drake pushes Liam out of the way, causing him to stumble to the ground.

“Whoa there, old friend,” Liam pulls himself back up. “That was kinda hard.”

“It wasn’t that hard.” Drake opens the door.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” Liam shouts, a twinge of humor in his voice.

“You’re drunk–”

“And for once,” Liam draws closer to the shaggy brunette, jabbing his finger into his chest, “you’re not!”

Drake sees red as he glares at the shell of the man that he used to consider his brother. When did he become so rude? So flippant? So careless? So… Leo? “You know what, Li?” He raises his hands in surrender, slowly stepping backwards through the door. “We’re done.” He turns on his heel and storms towards his private quarters.

“Drake? Drake, c’mon,” Liam calls out, jogging towards the commoner. He grabs him by the shoulder, turning him around. “Listen, I’m sorry. I–I'm dunk–drunk. Let’s just talk about this tomorrow–”

“No, Li. There is no more time to talk.” Drake shrugs off Liam’s hand as he returns to his pursuit. “Besides, I have a plane to catch in the morning.”

“A plane?” Liam catches up to Drake again, this time cutting in front of him. “Where–where are you going?”

"Away," he grumbles, finally reaching his room.

"Okay," Liam curiously stops, raising an eyebrow, his voice becoming softer. "When are you coming back?"

On cue, Drake unlocks his door to reveal a few packed boxes and luggage. Liam flips on an overhead light, his eyes registering the scene. He furrows his brows, as he tracks his pacing friend. Drake finally turns around, shoving his hands in his pocket before daring to look up at the prince.

"You're moving," Liam states matter-of-factly.

"To Texas," Drake finishes, eyes trained to the floor.

"But… but what about your life here–"

"What life, Liam?" Drake angrily interrupts. "I see the same three guys every day down in the stables. I eat breakfast and dinner by myself," he suddenly chokes on his words, his breath hitching as he turns away to collect himself. He looks back to Liam, his eyes reddening with the threat of tears. "I spend my free-time wondering if my fucking best friend will actually talk to me today."

"So this is my fault?" Liam shifts his weight, putting his hands on his hips. "Drake," he scoffs, "we knew this day was coming, my noble training, my duties. And this is harder, harder than I ever imagined. I’m sorry that we don’t hang out as much. But, cut me some slack."

"I have… For a long time now." 

Liam looks away, his lips twisting.  Every emotion flashes across his youthful, chiseled face. Confusion. Anger. Worry. Betrayal. Running a hand over his stubbled chin, he looks back at his friend.

"How do I fix this?"

Hearing the genuine desperation in Liam's voice, Drake drops his head. He rubs the back of his neck, his eyes still trained on the floor. "Li, I–"

"Just tell me. And I'll make it happen. Anything."

Drake sardonically snickers, shaking his head. "Don't you want better for me?  For me to make something of myself?"

"Is it a job? Because I can get you a better job. Or we can get you into Cordonia U in the Fall–"

"Wow," Drake blows a raspberry with his lips. "Do you seriously think I need your help? That I'm incapable of creating my own life? My own future?" Fuming, Drake catches his breath. “Jesus fucking Christ, you nobles are all the same. You think you can just throw your wealth, your fucking title and get your way–”

“It never stopped you from accepting my help before.”

A dark stillness engulfs the room as the two friends stare daggers into each other. Liam crosses his arms, his physique growing rigid as he towers his extra three inches of height over denim-clad commoner. Breathing madly, Drake’s broad chest rises and falls as his hands grip into fists. They stood there for a few minutes, hurling silent insults at each other, tearing each other apart with their quiet thoughts. 

Finally, Drake shakes his head in disgust, throwing up his hands before heading for the door.  “I’ll send for my stuff,” he mutters under his breath as he intentionally bumps his shoulder into the prince’s arm, pushing him off balance.

Liam scoffs. He brushes off his arm as if Drake had left something dirty on him from impact. He follows him out the door to watch him walk down the main corridor. 

“Like mother, like son.”

Drake spins around, his jaw tightening. He closes the space between him and Liam before launching a wrathful swing of his arm, his fist abruptly meeting a hearty crack against the prince’s chiseled face. 

Liam stumbles backwards, falling to a knee as he holds his cheek. But before he can retaliate, Liam’s guard Lars quickly apprehends Drake, knocking him to the ground as he calls for reinforcements over his earpiece.  With six more guards swarming the floor, Drake is picked up by his pinned arms.

“Stop!” Liam bellows, struggling to stand up. With the help of another guard, Liam steadies his gate before drawing closer to Drake, He wipes at his lip, noting the dark red crimson trickling from his mouth. He locks his eyes on his childhood friend before slowly shaking his head. 

“You ungrateful bastard,” Liam growls before turning to Lars. “Show Mr. Walker out.” Liam turns on his heel, walking back to his quarters before slamming the door.

------

Present

An abrupt knocking on the glass breaks Drake’s reverie. He anxiously sits up, but his troubled heart instantly takes comfort at the sight of her, his bride, his person. It was his Jodi. Even in a ratty old SFA t-shirt and an old pair of his boxers, she was still stunning. Her hair reflects the moonlight, turning her usual golden strands into ethereal white. Her warm caramel-chocolate eyes hold the universe, Drake’s whole universe, as they sparkle and dance just for him.  She delicately presses her fingertips against the pane, her heart-shaped lips offering a pleading smile.  Baby, please. I’m here.

Drake furrows his brow at the sight of her. His lips can’t help but frown as the pricking of tears sting his eyes.  He finally drops his head into hands, shielding his face from her view.  He knew the dam that was holding back his emotions would eventually break, and his heart would bleed out as the unbearable weight on his shoulders came crashing down around him. But, he didn’t want to do this in front of Jodi, not in front of the woman that trusts him to be her rock and strength.

“Drake?” She softly calls to him. “Drake baby?” She gently taps her fingertips against the window again to get his attention, but he doesn’t answer her.

Jodi quickly rounds the truck, climbing in on the other side while shoving his duffle bag into the back of the cab.  “Baby? Baby?” She slides her arms around Drake’s broad shoulders, pulling him snuggly into her embrace, resting her chin in his tousled hair.  Her face etches with worry, but she’s not a fool; she knows her husband, and she knows that this–whatever this is– has been building like a cancer inside of him for a while now. 

At least since they moved to Cordonia.

“I’m sorry,” Drake whispers, but Jodi quickly hushes him endearingly, combing her fingers through his hair and behind his ear. “I promised you a better life than this. I promised you a better husband than–”

“Don’t you dare talk about my husband that way, Drake Walker.” She playfully scorns, planting kisses on the crown of his head. 

Drake sits up, giving his wife a half-crooked smile as he quickly dries his eyes with the heel of his hand. He then wraps a strong arm around her, pulling her to his side, their lips tenderly meeting.

Jodi reaches over, lacing her petite hand with his large fingers. Her eyes find his glassy stare, but he quickly looks away from her, clearing his throat.

She squeezes his grip before casually looking out the window. “Your mom used to say, 'He's just like Jack.'  

Drake's eyes widen, turning back to his wife. "What?"

The corners of Jodi's mouth turn up as she continues. "Apparently your dad was incredibly strong. Tough. Hard-headed–"

Drake guiltily chuckles under his breath. "Sounds slightly familiar." 

"And yet… very emotional. Haunted even." She looks up at her husband, their eyes locking on one another. As silence fills the truck, Jodi's attention falls to their laced fingers. Gently letting go of his hand, she begins twirling his platinum wedding ring.

"Listen, Jo–"

She holds a finger to his mouth and sweetly grins. "I love you, Drake Walker," her eyes twinkle, "just the way you are, even when you feel like being quiet and I know,” she chuckles, “I know. You have to mull things over before you can talk about them." She cups his face, gently stroking the coarse hairs of his bearded jaw. “But you married me. You don't have to shoulder the pain alone anymore. You don't have to worry about tomorrow or about decisions or about life alone anymore." Watching a tear swell and threaten to drop from his long lashes, Jodi gently rubs her thumb across his lower eyelid. "You can be quiet, that's fine. But you eventually need to talk to me, Drake. Please–" she sniffles, "don't shut me out. Don't–don't shut us out–"

"Oh, baby," Drake exhales, his arms enveloping his wife. He leans in, resting his forehead against hers as he closes his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry… I–" he sighs, "I never meant to do this to you. All I want to do… is protect you, be a man that you are proud of–”

“Drake–”

“Jodi Walker… you are the most precious thing this life has ever given me… damnit–” his breath hitches as he presses his face intimately into her hair, "I need you. God, everyday. I need you every fucking day. More and more." 

"I need you, too, baby," Jodi sweetly whispers in his ear, her voice hoarse from tears. She presses a firm kiss into his hairline, her fingers tangled tightly in his hair. “And I am proud of you.”

For the first time in almost six months, Drake suddenly understands what it means to be supported, to be heard and to be loved. It's not that his wife failed to do these things for him. But he realizes it's easy to feel comforted when he feels positive about himself and rewarded by life. He promised Jodi happiness, and he is bound and determined to ensure she always has that.

Even if that means hiding himself and his own demons.

But he had forgotten one very important detail: Jodi made the exact same promise of a happy life, to love him, and to comfort him through every curve ball thrown at them. He’s not that little boy anymore, suffering through his father’s death and mother’s abandonment alone. He has someone now, his person, his better half, his forever.

After spending some much needed time in each other's arms, whispering sentiments of love and sharing sweet kisses, the couple is interrupted by a tiny voice on the baby monitor.  They both stare at the device intently, finally raising an eyebrow to one another, holding their breath as they try to decipher the message. 

"Damnit! Okay! Fine. I have no idea,” Jodi confesses, throwing up her hands as a guilty expression paints across her face. “I have no fucking idea what the hell he is saying half the time."

"Shit, I thought it was just me," Drake snickers, rubbing his forehead.

Jodi slowly furrows her eyebrows. “You think he’s normal?”

“Meh,” Drake shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t think we’ve fucked him up too badly just yet–”

“Drake!” Jodi swats at her husband’s arm as he pretends to shield himself.  They tumble into a fit of snickers as Drake puts his arm around her shoulders, hugging her tightly.

"Well, I better go check on him," she gives a sorrowful smile before pressing her lips to Drake one last time. "Take your time… but don't dare keep me waiting alone for too long, Mr. Walker," she winks as she begins to slide out of the truck.

Drake grabs her elbow, pulling her back to his side as their mouths meet again. A soft moan tumbles from her chest as he strokes her hair back. 

"We're in this together… right, Mrs. Walker?" he kisses her nose, making her scrunch it up.

"Always."

------

By the time Drake makes it upstairs, a lone kitchen light illuminates his path in the open-concept layout of his apartment. He quietly sets his bag down next to the front door before kicking off his tennis shoes. He strips down into his white undershirt and boxer briefs, gathering his dirty scrubs to throw into the wash. 

Softly padding to the kitchen to warm up some dinner, he notices a certain little 3-year-old’s upside-down handprint on a piece of construction paper.  As he draws close to the craft, Drake’s smile begins to grow as the gray blob of paint begins to take the shape of an elephant, complete with a googly-eye glued near the base of the tiny thumb and his ear, toes and tail drawn on with a permanent marker, no doubt drawn on by Jodi.

To: Daddy

Drake traces the hand print, a sense of pride billowing in his chest. My boy. Feeling the tight ache in his cheeks from smiling, he glances towards Finn’s room and notices the door is ajar, his night light pouring through the crack out into the hallway. He quietly moseys to his son’s room, peering in to see his son, sleeping soundly with his chestnut strands sprawled out carelessly on his pillow. With a secure grip on a toy firetruck, the young child’s arm is relaxed over his head while the thumb of his other hand is tucked barely into the waistband of his dinosaur underwear.

Drake chuckles to himself, admiring the adorable vision when he suddenly looks down, noticing that he had his own thumb tucked into the waistband of his boxers.

And it hits him: what else am I unknowingly teaching him? 

Drake has fond memories of his father: camping, fishing, learning how to tie a tie, grilling the perfect steak, tuning up a car. But one thing he doesn’t like to think about are the times his father wasn’t there–especially since those times outnumber the moments he was present. 

And it was all for the sake of the job. Drake remembers phone calls in the middle of the night, impromptu international trips, interrupted holidays. And then when his dad was home, he wasn’t always present with them. Often times, his mother would shoo Drake and his younger sister away to allow for Jackson to rest by the fire with a bottle of scotch in his hands.

But Drake has nothing, but admiration and gratefulness for his dad, for all of the good times, the life lessons and pep talks. Because of the early, pleasant experiences, Drake always imagined raising his children the exact same way.

Only now that he’s in Cordonia, he’s not.

But that stops tonight.

Drake tenderly picks up his son, Finn’s head instantly nuzzling back to sleep on his dad’s shoulder, gripping tightly to his shirt. He knew that Jodi was probably going to kill him for getting the little one out of his bed, but at this moment, holding their boy, reminding him that Daddy is always there seems more important.  

Drake strolls into his bedroom with a snoozing Finn in his arms, wrapped up with his patch-work blankie.  With her eyes growing heavy, Jodi is mindlessly scrolling through TikTok in the dark when she hears her husband’s heavy steps. She sits up on her elbow, and then notices her son.

“Drake?” She turns on a lamp, slowly sitting up in bed.  “What are you doing? Is he okay—?”

“Yeah,” Drake looks down at his son, nestled in his arms, “everything is perfect now.”

------

The next morning, Drake feels renewed, like shackles have been broken off of his hands and feet, setting him free. There’s no sense of dread or anxiety. He doesn't feel agonizing guilt or slithering voices of self-loathing. Rather, he's at peace; he's comforted. He has a swelling of confidence in his chest and a new lease of determination in his soul. And when he wakes up next to his wife and son, his heart almost aches from the overflow of love for them. 

He contacts his work, notifying them that he would be present for his client at the regular scheduled start time in accordance with his contract. He took a very excited Finn to the kitchen for breakfast, knowing that his early-bird of a wife would be in shortly.

Only she wasn’t.

After bribing his son to take five ‘big boy bites’, Drake cleans Finn up before securing him inside a baby gate with his blankie and a new episode of Dino Ranch.  Returning to the kitchen, he pours a mug of piping hot coffee for Jodi while preparing a short stack of pancakes with spiced apple butter, his wife’s new favorite topping since moving to Cordonia.  Arranging the meal on a rustic, wooden tray, he carries it, tiptoeing carefully into the bedroom.  He finds her already up, rinsing out her mouth before returning to bed.

“Morning, Mrs. Walker,” he smiles, presenting her breakfast like a trophy.. 

“Mmmm, morning, Mr. Walker,” her voice is raspy. “I see you’ve been cooking–”

“Jo–” he interrupts, putting the tray down and cradling her face. “You okay?”  He gently strokes his thumbs across the dark, purple circles under her swollen eyes.

“Yeah,” she reassures, putting her hands on his wrists. “I–I’m just tired. Someone invited a certain little boy into our bed that I swear is going to be the kicker for the Cowboys someday."

“A kicker instead of a… walker?” he mischievously raises his eyebrows, ensuring his wife got the punchline. 

Oh, she did. Jodi playfully glares at her husband. "You know? Just because you're a dad now doesn't mean you have to tell dad jokes."

"You love my jokes," he badgers, his voice growing heated as his mouth grazes gently across her lips. 

"Mmmm… I love you," she croons. 

Their mouths meet again, but the intimate touch is gone too quickly. Jodi playfully pouts, the adorable sight coaxing Drake to kiss her again. And then again. And then once more. “Greedy girl this morning,” he growls, handing her the coffee before pinching her ass.

“Baby," she yelps. "Hey, wait… shouldn’t you be at work?” Jodi furrows her eyebrows before sniffing her mug and stealthily setting it down.

“Technically my contract says I have to be in by 8:30 AM. The only one that wants me there at 6 is my fucking client–”

“Drake,” she warns.

“What?” He shrugs his shoulders, feigning ignorance.

“Are you going to always refer to him as your ‘fucking client’?”

“That’s all he is, Jo,” he spits back. He watches his wife calmly push her loose tendrils behind her ear before she dips her finger into the apple butter. Drake sighs, “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just… it’s different. He’s different.”

“I guess I don’t understand. What about all the phone calls and facetimes?” She licks her finger. “I mean I know that all stopped when… uh, well… after everything happened, and–and–and you and I had Finn, then the wedding. But I thought surely you two would go back to–”

“It’s not like that anymore, Jo,” he sighs.  “I know you were hoping that somehow moving back here would be like some magical family reunion. It’s not. We’re not family anymore.”

“Have… you… talked to–?”

“No. And we don’t talk about her either.” He bites back, a silence falling between them as he stares at his twiddling thumbs. He finally sighs. “Look, Jo, I’m sorry. I know I’m being short with you, but this?  This is my nightmare. Every-fucking-day. I spend my entire day trying to save him, and he’s a stranger, as if we have absolutely no history. He’s… just a fucking asshole.”

Jodi places an endearing hand on his upper back. “I know, baby. But, you’re doing the right thing–”

“Right thing?” Drake blows a raspberry with his mouth.  “The only reason why I’m even here in Cordonia is I was a last ditch effort. He wants to move on, and they thought I’d be the cure,” he sarcastically snickers, “he doesn’t want a fucking cure.” He looks away from his wife, taking a moment to think.  “You know? They are actually considering hiring another ‘caretaker’,” he air-quotes, “but she has to be a young female–”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Who knows? Maybe that will interest him in wanting to stay.”

“Will she have big tits and dollar bills hanging out of her g-string?” Jodi jokes. 

“They can’t hire you,” Drake winks, earning him a swat from his wife. He gets up and retrieves her plate and mug. “Which… how is the training going at your new job?”

“It’s good,” she brightens, as she follows Drake into the kitchen where they can see Finn playing with his toy cars in the living area. “I start at the embassy on Monday, and then I’ll go to the satellite campuses for interviews after that—”

“Jodi?” He interjects, his voice becoming worrisome as he observes her untouched plate. “Aren’t you hungry? That’s fresh apple butter.” 

“I can tell it is,” she grins. “I’m just not hungry yet.”

Drake nods in understanding, but suddenly notices her untouched coffee, an early morning staple for a fully functioning Jodi Walker.

“So,” she continues, “I found out some good news.”

Drake sits down to put on his shoes, turning his ear to her. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“A spot opened up at the employee daycare, so I don’t think we need Sav afterall.” 

“Jo,” Drake runs his hands down his face, “we talked about this. Sav is family–”

“And this is the start of our son's education. Did you know that they use the same programs that the nobles use for private lessons–”

Drake grumbles. “Weren’t you just asking me if I thought he was normal?”

“Drake.”  

“--about how if we’ve fucked him up yet?”

“Drake Walker.”  Jodi crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Please don’t start with that noble shit right now. I’m only wanting the best for him. I love Sav, but I want him doing more than just playing with cars and watching television. Not to mention that drive? Everyday? Especially in Valtoria traffic?” 

“You also don’t have to go back to work,” Drake mutters. When he notices the room is silent, he turns around to see a glaring Jodi with her hands on her hips.  He nervously clears his throat. “Sorry. Continue, sweetheart.”

“He needs structure–”

“Have you met Bertrand?”

“Drake,” she rubs her head as if she is developing a headache.  She quietly saunters towards her husband, slowly snaking her hands around his abdomen. “Please. This will be really good for Finn. I promise.” She tightens her embrace, pressing her forehead into his broad chest. “They have an open house in a few weeks that we can go to. Would that make you feel better?”

Drake gently runs his hands up and down his wife’s back, milling around the information he just learned. He takes a deep breath, finally looking down and meeting her pleading gaze. “Fine. Open house, but Savannah until then.”

“Deal.”  Their lips meet briefly, eliciting a soft moan from Jodi.

“Any other benefits I should know about?” Drake sasses.

“Actually…” Jodi bites her bottom lip, “remember how I only got eight weeks off after I had Finn, and only six of them were paid for?”

Drake huffs under his breath as he pulls out his lunchbox to pack. “Don’t remind me… fucking school district is a bunch of crooks.”

Jodi widens her eyes, placing her pointer finger on her mouth as she shifts her eyes to Finn. Drake retracts his head like a turtle before mouthing the word sorry. 

“Anyway,” Jodi jovially rolls her eyes, “so get this: even as a part-time employee, I still get six months of paid maternity leave. Guaranteed.”

“O…kay.” Drake titters, opening up the refrigerator, “is this your subtle-not-so-subtle way of bringing up the baby conversation again?”

“No–I mean… sortof?” She cocks her head, her tongue pressed to the back of her teeth.  

The moment Drake hears the inflection in her voice, he freezes. Then whirls around to face his wife, noticing how extremely tired she looks. Then he turns to face the sink, glancing at her untouched plate and mug of coffee.

“Jo?” His eyes shift suspiciously towards his wife.

“Drake?” She smiles sheepishly.

“You’re… not…” he tries hard to stifle his smile, but the joy in his gaze betrays him.

Jodi shrugs her shoulders before nodding her head enthusiastically, biting her bottom lip. Within seconds, her husband scoops her up in his arms, lifting her off the ground as their lips melt in a tender kiss.

“Are you serious?  Wait… are you sure?”  He whispers. “You’re not fucking with me? We–we’re really having another baby?” Watching her husband fumble with his words, Jodi is consumed with giggles, her cheeks pinking with joy. Before she can even answer a single question, Drake pushes his mouth back into hers, tracing a trail of heated kisses to the back of her neck before finally embracing her tightly, burying his face into her gold locks. Wrapped in each other's arms, they fall into a pleasurable silence as they gently rock each other back and forth, basking in the blessing of turning into a family of four. “I love you, Jo.”

“Love you, Walker," she echoes hoarsely, sharing one last peck on his lips. Suddenly, she bounds to the baby gate where Finn is watching intently, reaching for his parents.  Jodi picks him up, saddling him on her hip as she spins him around. “And… I love you!” She squeals, grabbing his belly, tickling him lightly as he throws his head back with giggles.

“Oh, damnit.”

Jodi abruptly stops, growing concerned as her husband’s face drops. “What’s wrong?”

“I just realized… I’m not gonna have any extra dollar bills for that new stripper–”

Jodi scrunches up her face. “Let’s get Daddy,” she whispers to Finn. They begin to tickle Drake as he shields himself, all the while laughing hysterically. “No strippers, ya hear me? Y’all are going to hire a sweet girl with manners…  that can keep her clothes on during working hours.”

“That’s what strippers do during working hours,” he snorts, enveloping his small family, planting a kiss on Finn's chubby cheek. As Drake tries to smooth down his son's inherited cowlick, he grows quiet, his expression pensive.  “You’re right, you know.”  Drake exhales, becoming more serious. “I do still care… And if I can’t make him feel better, then I hope this crazy plan of hiring a nice girl works.”

“I hope so too, baby.”

“I just hope she can break through to him,” he sighs, “and that it’s not too late.”

~🖤~

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[anon911andbuddie]

Prompt: After the ladder truck crushed Buck’s leg he becomes estranged from the team. Buck ends up losing the leg, and Eddie finds out after the fact from Christopher. Buddie h/c ensues

As always, this got away from me. I started this prompt weeks ago but it just kept getting longer and longer, then realized I missed a tiny prompt aspect and reworked it. Then again it got longer and longer. And oops, the word count is now over 7.5k. But it is finished.

So strap in for some angst, hurt/comfort, firefam doing firefam things, and Buddie finally gets their moment. Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing and rewriting.  

-Scarlet 📕

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of death (Shannon's), Bombing, hostage situations (AKA events of season 2, episode 18), Hospitals, injury, infection, amputation, depression, refusal to eat, anxiety, swearing, nightmares, secret keeping, hints of gaslighting, attempted ghosting, self-deprecation. And all around Buck Drama.

At What Cost?

Everyone kept telling Buck that he was lucky to be alive. That he had survived a bombing and being trapped under a 20-ton truck. Buck didn’t feel lucky. He had survived, but it cost him the use of his leg. Sure his leg was still attached but the muscle damage was enough to force him out of his job. One guy pressed a button and undid Buck’s entire life. His career as a firefighter was over. His parents hadn’t even come to see him. Sure they called, but it was like his ruined life meant nothing to them. He couldn’t live in the apartment he hadn’t even fully moved into yet since he couldn’t use the stairs. Buck was so beyond done.

The most annoying part was that his story was all over the news, Taylor Kelly had seen to that. Eddie had actually been furious about how she played up her so-called “personal connection” for the story. Buck genuinely didn’t care about Taylor Kelly right now. Anywhere he tried to go people would recognize him, pity him, and that wasn’t totally on her. Every news station jumped at the opportunity to showcase the whole disaster. He hated it. He hated everything. He couldn’t do his job. He had no purpose. No matter how his sister, his girlfriend, his team, Carla, or even Christopher tried to tell him it would get better. He didn’t believe them. His leg was useless. There was no going back from this.

He didn’t care if the city and the fire department had compensated him decently for having an on-the-job accident resulting in his inability to work, but Buck knew they only did it because the whole thing had gone viral. The world finally recognized Buck as a hero, too bad he would never feel like one again. He was just a burden now. A burden on the system, a burden on his friends. They had insisted that he might not be on the team anymore, but he was still one of them. He found that hard to believe. They all had their own lives. Bobby and Athena eloping proved it. They didn’t need a cripple ex-firefighter messing things up for them. And Eddie, Christopher, even Maddie, all had their own trauma to deal with. They didn’t need him making things worse. He didn’t want that for his family. So he did the only reasonable thing in his book. As soon as he had any semblance of autonomy back he did what he knew they all probably secretly wished would happen. He pulled away. He had found a new apartment and didn't really tell anyone where he was. They left him messages. They were all worried.

"He needs time," the doctors told them. "He will need to adjust. He just lost his job, his pride is wounded. He might feel like he has lost his independence."

Carla had been the only person able to get to him and even she saw him sparingly because she had her own responsibilities. It was weeks later when Eddie got an unsettling phone call from Carla saying she needed a few days off.

"Everything alright, your family okay?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, they’re fine,” Carla assured him. “It's...well, Buck needs my help for a few days."

"Oh," Eddie tried not to sound hurt that his best friend had called Carla for help and not him. Eddie knew that Carla had been his friend first, but he was his best friend. "I'll see if Abuela can look after Chris. Let Buck know we miss him."

"I will," she assured him again. "Thanks, Eddie."

Eddie felt bad but just two days after he gave Carla the time off she needed he had found out Abuela couldn’t cover one of the days. So Eddie did the only thing he could, he called Carla.

“I know I said I would get Abuela to watch him, but she can’t tomorrow. Is it possible you could at least pick him up and -”

“Let me check and call you back,” Carla told him and hung up. She called back a couple of minutes later. She sighed but told him it was fine. “I can bring him with me, it won't be an issue.”

The next day at work they were all shocked by a surprise visitor.

“Hello?” Ali said as she entered the station loft a few weeks later. Bobby swiftly got to his feet. No one had really seen her since Buck was released.

“Hey, Ali, is everything alright? How’s Buck?” Bobby asked.

“That’s actually why I’m here,” Ali said.

“What about Buck?” Eddie asked as he joined them, drawing the attention of Hen and Chimney.

“Have any of you heard from him recently?” Ali asked.

They looked at each other and shook their heads.

“That’s what I thought,” Ali said. “This probably isn’t my place, but I think someone should check on him.”

“You’re his girlfriend, why wouldn’t it be your place?” Hen asked, confusion clear on her face.

“Was, past tense, he…” Ali sighed. “He broke it off, but that isn’t my point.” She shook her head. “No, after they...I know he has been through something no one can prepare themselves for. I know he is struggling, but he doesn’t want me there.”

"When did you guys split?" Eddie asked.

"A few days ago," Ali admitted.

“Huh,” Eddie said. “Well Chris is with Carla today and I know she’s seen him. I’ll ask her-”

“Yes, Carla,” Ali nodded. “She is the only one he seems to trust these days.”

“What are you trying to say, Ali?” Bobby asked.

“I’m saying he isn’t doing well and needs someone to check in on him, and well, that’s not only part of your job but you’re like his family.” She looked from face to face as she spoke. “I’m sure he’ll be more receptive to you guys.”

“We’ll check on him,” Bobby assured her.

“That’s all I’m asking,” Ali said.

Eddie’s anxiety only grew when Christopher had been unusually silent since Carla dropped him off. His son didn't really want to talk about where he'd been or what he did at school and he didn't really touch his dinner. It had alarm bells going off in Eddie's head. They had made some progress trying to get back some semblance of normal after losing Shannon. It was like all that progress was undone in one afternoon. He had sent Carla a text and she had told him Christopher just needed time to deal with what he went through. She assured him he would talk to Eddie when he was ready, but Eddie had an uneasy feeling he was missing something. It wasn't until he woke up at 3 am and heard sniffling when he went to check on his son did Eddie get really worried.

"Hey, Buddy, have a bad dream?" Eddie asked. Christopher nodded. "Want to tell me about it?" Eddie didn't like the way Christopher hesitated to answer.

"He didn't want anyone to know, but I know and-" Christopher let out a sob and Eddie pulled him into a hug. When Christopher had quieted some Eddie tried to find out what was going on.

"What happened, Bud?" He asked. "What weren't you supposed to know?"

"That Buck's leg is gone," Christopher told him and Eddie didn't know what he expected, but it sure as hell didn't expect that.

"What?" Eddie asked.

Christopher pulled back and looked up at his dad with tear-filled eyes. "Gone, gone. They took it off. From here," Christopher pointed at his dad's knee and down to his toes. "To here is gone."

"It was just a dream, Chris," Eddie told him earning another round of sobs as Christopher shook his head.

"They did in real life too," Christopher cried.

Eddie froze. Was this really happening? The doctors had said Buck needed time to heal and that he would hopefully get back on his feet in time. What the hell had happened? Why hadn't Buck told him? Why didn't Carla? How was he just learning this at 3 am from his son?

"Dad?" Christopher tugged at his arm.

Eddie had to clear his throat before he could speak. "I'm here, bud,” Eddie spoke softly, trying to assure his son that everything would be alright. He held Christopher close. “Whatever is going on with Buck, we'll figure it out, okay? I talk to Carla and Buck, and we'll help him, okay?" Christopher nodded. Eddie smiled and asked, "Think you can try to sleep now?"

"Yeah," Christopher said as he got settled back in his bed. "Thanks, Dad."

Eddie gave his son a kiss on the forehead. "Night, Bud. Love you."

"Love you too."

As soon as Eddie was in his bedroom he pulled out his phone and went to dial Bobby's number but he stopped. It was 3 am and he didn't have any real facts, just what Christopher said. Instead, he sent Carla a text that Christopher had told him and to call him first thing. Then he settled in for what he knew was a sleepless night.

Eddie drank his third cup of coffee after waking up two hours before his alarm from another nightmare about the bombing. He dreamed he'd failed to save Buck and he had buried his best friend right next to his wife. So he was wide awake when his phone rang.

"For the record," Carla said when he did. "I told him he needed to tell at least Maddie, you, and Bobby too."

"What happened?" Eddie asked.

She sighed. "I noticed some discoloration on his leg when I was visiting. We got it checked out and he ended up with a nasty infection and with the amount of tissue damage he already had, well..." Eddie's chest felt painfully tight as Carla spoke. He must have made a noise because when she continued she said, "I'm sorry, Eddie, but you know as well as I do, there wasn't much of an option at that point…"

"They had to amputate it," Eddie finished for her. He gripped the phone tighter as his hands began to shake.

"They did," Carla affirmed.

"Shit," Eddie cursed under his breath, he could feel tears in his eyes.

"I know it is a lot to take in. I was surprised Christopher handled it so well, but he-"

"He really didn't," Eddie sort of blurted out.

"What? Is he okay?" Carla sounded suddenly very alert.

"I woke up to him crying at 3 am. He was telling me that Buck's leg was gone from the knee down and I figured it was just a bad dream, he told me it wasn't, and honestly, it felt like I'd been sucker-punched." Eddie let out a shaking breath as he rubbed at his eyes to keep from crying. "I told him that I'd talk to you, and hopefully Buck and we'd figure something out, but that felt almost like a lie. Why didn't he tell me? Or the team? Or-"

"He wasn't ready," Carla said. "I really hoped he would let you all back in but he was hurting and after watching him push Ali away, I was a bit worried he would do the same with all of you. I was genuinely shocked he agreed to let Christopher come over. Then again, when doesn't he put Christopher's well-being before his own..."

"How...how bad is he?" Eddie felt his nails dig into the palm of the hand that wasn’t gripping the phone.

"Honestly, Eddie," Carla said sadly, "Physically, he is healing. The infection was isolated to an area about mid-calf level. So they could save his knee, and that means a lot for future mobility."

Eddie let out a strangled sob. "God, Carla, he must be a wreck. He must be hurting."

"He is, but he doesn't want to add to anyone else's plate, especially you and Christopher. He-"

"What? No," Eddie said, taken aback. "He is my best friend, my partner, we agreed to always have each other's back."

"That's just it, Eddie. You don't work together anymore. You aren't partners. That was-"

"No, absolutely not," Eddie stated. "Doesn't matter, job or no job, it changes nothing. He is still my best friend. He was there every step after…" Eddie grew quiet.

"Eddie? You still there?" Carla questioned.

"Yeah...I," Eddie said his tone quiet and sorrowful. "He didn't want us to worry, especially so soon after Shannon, didn't he..."

"He was hoping to avoid, well, he was hoping to avoid Christopher being afraid of losing him."

"By pushing us away? Might have meant less horrific Buck-centric nightmares, but he'd still be losing his Buck. It'd be just like when Shannon left the first time. How is that preferable?"

"I hoped with time he would see that, but here we are," Carla admitted.

"I...have to make some phone calls. Call me if anything else happens, and I mean anything, okay?”

"Sure, Eddie. Tell Chris that it'll be okay. That Buck is getting better. He just might need some help feeling better, but he will get there."

"I will. Thanks, Carla."

Eddie looked at the clock and realized he needed to get Christopher up for school. After they had gotten ready, they ate breakfast, and he got Christopher off to school. Eddie pulled his phone out and called Bobby.

"Morning, Eddie, how's Christopher?" Bobby asked.

"Well he had a rough night but that's why I'm calling. Bobby, he told me at 3 am that Buck had lost his leg."

"What?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, at first I thought he was telling me about a dream, but I talked to Carla and they really did have to amputate his leg."

"Why? What happened?"

"Carla said he got an infection, and they couldn't save it. Bobby," Eddie let out a shaking breath.

Bobby had to sit down. This was because of him. Freddie had blown up that truck to hurt Bobby, and he did, more than Freddie could possibly know. He took the heart of 118 and smashed it to pieces. Buck had always been so good at keeping them all light-hearted. The firehouse just didn't feel the same without him. From Buck’s point of view, Freddie had taken everything but his life. Freddie had taken his job, his connection to his friends, and now his leg. Bobby had told Buck that he might not be on the team anymore but he was still part of their family. Bobby had listened to the professionals and trusted that Buck just needed time. Now he was kicking himself. He thinks of all the times he sat beside him as Buck lay in a hospital bed. He was even one of his emergency contacts. Bobby cursed himself. He should have tried harder. He shouldn't have relied on Eddie talking to Carla. He should have just looked after him himself like he had promised himself after that first hospital trip. This was all his fault.

"Bobby?" Eddie called his name.

"I'm still here," Bobby told him. "Does Maddie know?"

"No, she doesn't," Eddie answered. "Carla said she tried to get him to tell her and us."

"I'll call her," Bobby sighed.."

"Thanks, Bobby."

"You okay?" Athena asked as she sat beside her husband. He didn't know how to answer that. He didn't know if he was. Buck had been through so much because of him, and Bobby missed it. He wasn't there when the bomb went off. He wasn't there when he got the infection. He wasn't there when they amputated his leg. He should have been.

"What happened?" Athena asked when it was clear Bobby wasn't going to answer that particular question.

"Buck's injured leg became infected,” Bobby replied. “They had to amputate."

"That poor kid just can't catch a break," Athena said sadly.

"I need to call Maddie," Bobby said.

"Why you?" Athena asked.

"Because I owe them at least that much," Bobby said as he looked through the contacts on his phone.

"Bobby," Athena started but he cut her off.

"He wouldn't be in this mess if It wasn't for me," He told his wife.

Athena shook her head. "You didn't blow up that truck, you didn't get him sick. You-"

"But I wasn't there, Athena. I should have been. If I had been there that night-"

"You didn't have a choice,” a very serious Athena told him, “and you got there as soon as you could. You faced a bomber with a death wish to save him. Freddie is the one to blame. Freddie detonated that bomb. Freddie wouldn't let the medics go to him right away. Freddie made this happen."

"All to hurt me,” Bobby said with remorse, “and Buck paid the price. "

"And the fact it does hurt you, means you are a good person. You would have taken Buck's place in a heartbeat, but Freddie would have killed you. Not giving you the chance to get a word in. You would be dead. Leaving Buck and the rest of us devastated. Losing a leg will be something Buck has to learn to live with, but he will do it and he will live. He will figure it out and we will all help him put his life back together. But losing you would have been so much worse for that kid. You've been down the road of what-ifs and if only’s. He'd be lost down that very same road, just like he is now. The only difference is you are still here to pull him back. You still can. So sure, call Maddie since you did just tell Eddie you would, but do it because you want Buck to feel better and have his sister there with him. Not because you think you deserve to suffer."

"Okay," Bobby sighed, he knew she was right, but he still felt like this was on him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

The call with Maddie did not go well. Bobby was glad that Chimney had been there for her. She had cried and Chim had taken over getting the information for her and she insisted on going to see him immediately. Athena called Hen and filled her in. Hen couldn't figure out how things had gotten so bad and they had missed it. Athena wished she had an answer, but sadly, no one really did.

The next afternoon, Bobby heard shouting as he approached Buck’s new wheelchair-friendly apartment. He had found out from Chim that Maddie had stayed the night at Buck's after refusing to leave her brother’s side. She went as far as crawling into his bed and they had eventually broken down and cried about it. Bobby was quick to offer to come over and spend some time with Buck while Maddie worked that evening. That was how he ended up at Buck’s new place. It would help both of them feel better if someone they knew was there.

“I said I’m FINE!” Bobby heard Buck shout. “You shouldn't have told them!” The door was cracked as he neared it so the captain could hear the more subdued voice of Maddie as he nudged it open.

“Evan please, they just want to know you are okay,” Maddie said. "You lost a leg, they care."

“They got a fucked up way of showing it!” Buck shouted. “But I’m fine. Tell them I’m fine and go.”

“Buck,” Maddie said, her voice filled with sorrow.

“Don’t.” Buck hissed through gritted teeth. “Don’t pity me.”

“It’s not pity, Buck, I-"

“Don’t guilt-trip me either,” Buck said, glaring at her.

“Buck, please,” Maddie started but stopped when she saw Bobby in the doorway. “You have a visitor.” She forced a smile and turned to Bobby. “Hi, Bobby.”

“What’s going on?” Bobby asked as he entered the apartment.

“Buck is...well,” Maddie said, on the verge of tears. “Our parents called me because he won't take their calls. They are worried about him.” Bobby heard Buck snort of derision as he wheeled his chair over.

“Hey Buck,” Bobby said as a distraction. “I brought the stuff for stir fry, figured we could make dinner.”

“That is a great idea,” Maddie smiled. “I have a shift soon, but you guys enjoy dinner.” Maddie kissed the top of her brother’s head. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Not necessary,” Buck said as he turned his chair and started towards the kitchen. “But whatever.”

“Love you,” Maddie half-shouted.

“Mmhmm,” was Buck’s only response and Bobby could tell it pained the sister. Bobby put an arm around her shoulder and walked her to the door.

“He’s adjusting, it can be a jarring process. I’m sure he’ll talk to them soon, the fact he is talking to us now means he is getting better," Bobby tried to reassure her. “Try not to read too much into the thing with your parents. I’ll see if I can cheer him up a bit.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Maddie gave him a hug and left.

Bobby went to Buck’s kitchen and started getting the ingredients ready. Buck was quiet except for telling Bobby where things were when he asked. Bobby was glad Buck hadn't kicked him out or even ask him to leave at all. It had been months since Bobby had really seen him. They talked a few times, but the guilt Bobby felt now hit him deep down. He nearly lost Buck, then let him drift too far. He needed Buck to be okay. But he had to focus on the here and now, not his past mistakes. So he tried to get a real conversation going, but Buck’s single-word replies didn’t really make it easy. When the meal was done and they were sitting at Buck’s table, Bobby tried again. “How’s PT going?” Bobby asked. “Started working with the prosthetic yet?"

“It’s fine,” Buck answered. “The swelling is finally down enough they can hopefully fit it soon."

“Well that’s progress,” Bobby smiled as he took a bite of his dinner. "You in any pain?" Bobby finally asked now that Buck actually seemed to be speaking in full sentences.

Buck shrugged. “Not as much as there was before.”

“Well that’s not bad, means everything’s healing,” Bobby said with a nod. “Hopefully with time, it will get better, especially once you can get the muscles moving again."

Buck let out a bitter laugh as he poked at a pepper on his plate. “That’s just the thing, it’s not really going to get better.”

“You’ll walk again, Buck,” Bobby tried to assure him. “They didn't know if you would have been able to before, but with a prosthetic, you'll have a fair amount of movement back.”

“Doesn’t matter if I do,” Buck said as he set his fork down. “Thanks for dinner, but I’m not hungry,” Buck said. “I think I’m going to go lay down.”

“Do what you need to, Buck. I’ll take care of this.”

“Thanks,” Buck mumbled, wheeling himself towards his bedroom. Bobby sighed after the bedroom door closed. It broke Bobby’s heart to see Buck like that. The captain got up and started looking around the kitchen until he found some plastic containers to store the stir fry in. He was going to leave it for Buck to eat when he finally felt like eating. He hoped that Buck still had some kind of caregiver that was looking after him and making sure he ate. When he was done he took a few minutes to clean up Buck’s apartment, or really straightened up, there really wasn’t much in the apartment and his caregiver must have been keeping things tidy.

He knocked on the bedroom door when he ran out of things to do. He eased the door open when he didn't get a reply. Buck was awake and sort of staring at the ceiling.

"Hey," Bobby said, his voice quiet. "I put the rest in the fridge."

"Okay," Buck said, without even looking at Bobby.

"I'm going to head out I guess," Bobby didn't really want to leave Buck like that but it was getting late and what else could he do. He didn't want to feel like he was taking away Buck's independence, but he also didn't want him to feel abandoned. It was a tough line to walk. "Call if you need anything."

"Yeah, okay," Buck said as he glanced at Bobby before rolling on his side so his back was to his former captain.

"I'll see you soon," Bobby assured him. He didn't get a reply. It caused him to hesitate but when Buck didn't show any sign of moving he left, locking Buck's front door behind him. It hurt Bobby to leave. He had already lost so many people in his life. Leaving Buck in that way felt wrong but he wasn't Buck's dad, he wasn't even his boss anymore. This was uneasy terrain and Bobby was doing his best to do what was best for Buck. He just hoped he wasn't making the wrong decision.

Eddie knocked on Buck's door on their next day off. Bobby had told him how Buck had seemed so broken. Eddie couldn’t believe Buck still hadn’t answered his calls. He wanted to make sure his best friend was okay, but his best friend wasn’t making it easy. Maddie had assured him it was probably just because Buck didn't want to burden Eddie so soon after losing Shannon. Sure, Eddie had just lost his wife, but now he felt like he was failing his best friend. He shook himself from his thoughts and looked over at Christopher. He was surprised when he tried the handle and it wasn't even locked. This was LA. Was Buck trying to get robbed? Was his caretaker that reckless?

"Hey, Buck," he said as they let themselves in. "It's just us,” Eddie called out. “You stay here,” he told Christopher as he shut the door. “I’m going to check on, Buck.”

“Okay,” Christopher said and went to sit on the couch, turning the tv on as he did.

Eddie headed towards what Christopher had said was the bedroom. He knocked before pushing the door open. "You hear me?" Eddie asked.

"Yes, Eddie," Buck grumbled from where he was on the bed. "I heard you. Honestly, not sure I'm up for it today.”

"That's okay, we can go at whatever speed you want," Eddie said. "Why don't we go out and get something to eat, get some sunshine."

"Not really hungry," Buck told him.

"Okay," Eddie said. "It's like 75 in here, aren't you roasting?" He moved to help Buck pull back some of the blankets back but was stopped when Buck shoved his hand away. "Buck, man aren't you hot?" The medic didn't miss how Buck looked at the spot where his leg would be if he still had it. "Buck, I was an army medic, I know my fair share of amputees. I was there when you were hurt and I am trying to be here now. It's okay."

"It's really not," Buck said. "You want to see it, fine." Buck pulled the cover back to show his wrapped leg. Angry red skin peeking from the wrapping worried the medic. He was also worried by the fact Buck seemed to be avoiding looking at it himself.

"Hey," Eddie knelt down beside the bed. "I know I haven't been around and I’d go back and change that if I could, but nothing you can do is going to scare me off."

"Sure, Eddie," Buck grumbled, clearly not taking him seriously.

"I'm not lying, Buck. I've missed having my best friend around. If you think I didn't ask Carla every damn day how you were, then you are mistaken. Christopher is here too, he’s out watching TV."

"But I can't take care of him like I could before," Buck said.

"Maybe, but if you think Chris cares that you don't have a leg then you clearly need a Christopher Diaz refresher course, because you could literally be in a coma or completely paralyzed and he'd still want to visit you every day and talk your ear off. You always loved him despite the crutches and CP, do you really think he wouldn't do the same. You're his hero, Buck. You survived being blown up and crushed. He damn near thinks your magic."

"But I can't-"

“No buts, now let me take a look at your leg. I want to make sure it is just irritated from PT or something like that," Eddie said as he slowly reached for the bandage. He internally cheered when Buck didn't slap him away. He continued to speak as he did. "Then, you’re going to hang out with Christopher so you can see for yourself that the Diaz boys are stubborn when you try to turn us away. Like shoving a brick wall."

"Talking to one too," Buck grumbled, but Eddie looked over at him he saw the hint of a smile. That was a victory Eddie would take. He finished checking over what was left of Buck's leg. And rebandaged it. "How does it look?" Buck asked him.

"A lot better than anything I saw in the field. So it looks great in my book." Eddie grinned at the eye roll it earned him. “You going to get up?” When Buck hesitated and pulled the blankets back over his leg Eddie nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way.” Eddie went and turned off the TV and scooped Christopher up. He ignored the mild protest and confusion from his son as he went back into the bedroom and carefully put his son on the bed.

“Hi Buck,” Christopher said when he’d settled into the bed.

“Hey Bud,” Buck replied.

“See, better already,” Eddie said as he grabbed the remote for the TV that was on Buck’s dresser and went to sit on the other side of Christopher. He found the cartoon Christopher had been watching in the living room and set the remote down. “Everybody good?” he asked, looking between his son and his best friend.

“Yeah,” Christopher said as he cuddled into Buck’s side. Buck gave a silent nod and stared at the TV.

“Good,” Eddie nodded and settled in. An hour or so passed before Christopher complained he was hungry. Only after some encouragement from Christopher did Buck agree to get out of bed, but only if they went and get lunch started. Eddie hesitated, he was there to help Buck. Buck glared and repeated that he’d be out in a minute. Eddie reminded himself that Buck had always been independent. Not always by choice, but he was. So Eddie agreed and after helping Christopher out of the bed, they headed toward the kitchen. He was almost done assembling the sandwiches when Buck rolled in to join them, a blanket covering his legs. Eddie wanted to tell him he’d overheat, but fearing another argument, he kept it to himself. Instead, he sent Christopher out to sit at the table. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to Buck. “Some of those meds will suck you dry if you aren’t careful,” Eddie stated as an excuse.

“So will the medical bills,” Buck grumbled but didn’t refuse the drink.

“Still beats the VA, you’d still be waiting on getting looked at. Not even Carla could manage that red tape,” Eddie said as he put the sandwiches all on one plate.

“Oh I am telling Carla you doubt her awesomeness,” Buck stated, a grin taking over his features.

Eddie damn near cried at how happy he was to see some semblance of joy in his weary best friend. He had to remind himself to say something. “Try scheduling a follow-up at the VA while rehabbing your arm after taking an armor-piercing round. I’m not even sure they know how to answer a phone, and when they do, yikes. So much anger in those receptionists. I think they’re genetically modified to spit venom if you really cross them. I doubt even Carla would want to take them on, even with her awesomeness.”

Buck laughed and Eddie’s pretty sure his heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t really realized how much he missed that sound, or just being around Buck in general.

“Okay, okay, genetically modified receptionists would be a military thing,” Buck grinned. “And, we all know the VA is slower than snails.”

“It is. Here,” Eddie grinned, handing Buck the plate of sandwiches. “Go feed the kid before we all end up in trouble.”

“Can’t have that now can we,” Buck said as he set the plate in his lap and carefully made his way to the table.

“Thanks, Buck,” Christopher smiled when Buck gave him one of the sandwiches. Eddie set a plate with veggies and chips, alongside an open bottle of juice in front of Christopher. The three of them set to eating. Eddie waiting for both Buck and Christopher to start before he did. He knew Buck avoiding meals was probably more him avoiding getting out of bed to eat. He knew Buck loved food. So he was pleased when Buck didn’t put up a fight over the sandwich. After lunch and some coaxing, the three of them decided to go to the park. It was a normal thing for them to do. Get some sun, as fresh of air you could get in a large metropolitan city, and let Christopher play with some kids outside of school. They were both watching Christopher talking with another boy about some action figures when Buck glanced at Eddie.

“So uh...how’s work?” Buck asked.

“It’s work,” Eddie said, unsure of how to handle the topic. He knows it can’t be easy for him.

“You guys find a replacement for me yet?” Buck asked, his eyes trained on Christopher, refusing to show the emotions he felt.

“No one can replace you, Buck,” Eddie told him, squeezing Buck’s shoulder as he did. “I mean, we have a new guy, but if you thought me joining was a pain, this guy has it so much worse.”

“How?” Buck asked, finally looking at Eddie. “How could it be worse than some hotshot decorated army medic stealing all the thunder?” Buck’s joke earning him a small chuckle. “Can’t be worse than when I started,” Buck stated.

“Well he hasn’t stolen the truck, but he’s no you,” Eddie shrugged. “It’s a job to the guy, no passion, no heart. I mean he gets the job done, but it’s not the same. No spark in the guy. Not like you.”

“Like me?” Buck asked.

“Well yeah,” Eddie stated. “I mean, you always had something to tell us about at the start of shift, some exciting thing you saw, or weird thing you learned on the internet. You always had some factoid to keep whoever it is we were helping out of their own head if needed. Sure, it could be annoying at times, but it was endearing and effective when necessary. The dude is practically a robot in comparison.”

A few days later they were all shocked when Bobby stopped in his tracks during a post-call check and restock.

“Buck,” Bobby said, catching everyone’s attention. “Glad to see you out and about.”

“Yeah well, Eddie said this place was downright gloomy without me, so I had to stop by,” Buck stated.

Eddie snorted as he closed one of the compartment doors on the truck. “Okay, that is a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Teeny bit,” Buck smirked.

“Looking good, Buckaroo,” Hen grinned as she came to hug him.

“That’s a lie and we both know it, but thanks for trying,” Buck grinned as he hugged her back.

“Nah, the way these two made it sound, you were a dramatized disaster,” Chim gestured at Bobby and Eddie as he spoke.

“Also an exaggeration,” Eddie stated. “And Ali was the one that said you were in bad shape, not us. We-”

“I still can’t believe she came here,” Buck said. “Was I really that bad?”

“Well,” Chimney started to say. “I mean…”

Eddie shoved Chimney’s shoulder. “You’re dealing with a lot, Buck. No one expects you to be anything but what you are. You didn’t move 800 plus miles to get away from it all, so you’re already handling it better than I did when I left the military.”

“You had family here,” Buck countered.

“So do you,” Bobby stated.

“On the team or not,” Hen stated. “You’re still stuck with us, especially Chimney, your sister likes him too much. And I’m sure we’ll still need a crowbar to separate you two on your days off.” She gestured at Buck and Eddie. “So I don’t see how that much has changed.” She grinned.

“Valid point,” Eddie stated. They turned when they heard someone clear their throat.

“Oh, right,” Bobby said. “Buck this is Nick VanHolden. VanHolden, meet Buck.”

“Nice to meet you,” VanHolden said, holding his hand out. Buck glanced at Eddie and Bobby. Eddie shrugged and Bobby nodded.

“You too,” Buck said as he shook the guy’s hand. You didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that Buck’s greeting was half-hearted.

“Nice to finally put a face with the name, left some big boots to fill,” VanHolden said. The team froze. VanHolden seemed to realize what he said and cringed. “I...sorry, just meant that you’re a big deal in the department. Every firehouse in the city talked about you for days. And these guys, don’t get me started.”

“We wish you hadn’t,” Eddie grumbled under his breath, earning a smack from Hen.

“I uh…” VanHolden went to continue but Buck stopped him.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Buck shrugged. “I’m sure my shiny new leg with be in more comfortable shoes than you guys are stuck with. Not going to miss the 100° summer turnout gear, I’ll tell you that.” It was uneasily quiet for a minute until Buck chuckled. “Harsh crowd. Well, that one went over better with the assistant when I went to PT the other day, but I guess comedy isn’t for everybody.” Buck smirked.

“Why do we miss him again?” Chim said with a grin.

“Because his jokes are still better than yours,” Hen stated.

“Ouch,” Chim said. “Now that was low.”

Buck’s phone went off. “That’s Carla. I got to go, but was nice to meet you, Nick.”

“Yeah, you too,” VanHolden said, his tone still a bit awkward.

Eddie resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Good seeing you up and about, Buck.” Bobby said as he patted Buck’s shoulder. “Athena says you’ll have to come over for dinner soon.”

“Well then, who am I to argue with that,” Buck nodded.

“Glad to hear, I’ll talk to her and get it set up,” Bobby agreed. “Take care of yourself, I mean it.”

“I know, I know,” Buck shook his head but grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

When they were finally out in the parking lot Eddie waved at Carla. Carla waved back.

“Sorry about VanHolden,” Eddie said. “That guy is just-”

“Not me?” Buck chuckled.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie said. “Didn’t think it was possible for anyone to stick their foot in their mouth more than you or Chim, but he finds a way. I mean, you heard him. He-”

“Isn’t as bad as you made it sound,” Buck admitted. “I mean you’re acting like me when you joined. Eddie, man,” Buck stopped his chair and made Eddie look at him. “Cut the guy some slack, we got along just fine once I quit being petty.”

“This isn’t like that,” Eddie argued.

“Why? Because it’s you?”

“Because it isn’t you,” Eddie repeated. “I miss having someone I really could trust to have my back. Even when you hated me, I still felt I could trust you to keep me alive. Your annoyance at my existence was funny and a bit adorable, not going to lie. I miss having my partner. I know it’s stupid and petty. I know it isn’t fair to tell you any of this, but I’m not going to lie either, you’ll get even madder about that. I just...I know this is infinitely harder for you than me, but I just...there isn’t a way to really replace you, Buck. There isn’t.”

“Okay, first off, wow, that was...a lot,” Buck said, but when Eddie seemed to start to pull away Buck grabbed his arm. “Not bad, but a lot. Just...give me a second.” Buck was quiet for a beat but kept ahold of Eddie’s wrist so he couldn’t run. “Second, somehow you putting a guy down was probably the nicest thing anyone has said when I wasn’t actively dying.”

Eddie wasn’t sure how to respond to that. So he remained silent.

“Moving on,” Buck said. “This does suck, and it may always suck.”

“Buck,” Eddie started to try and reassure him but was stopped when Buck squeezed at his wrist.

“There is no going back to the job, I know that and you know that. That guy’s on the team now. Don’t be a dick to the guy just because you miss me. That’s supposed to be my job, he’s my replacement.”

“Buck…”

“Yeah, yeah, no replacing. I’m not saying you have to be his best friend. But you do have to be able to trust the guy, and vice versa. You got to play nice, Eddie. I’d say the same thing to Christopher.”

“You seriously going to bring my kid into this?” Eddie shook his head. “That’s low.”

“Yeah well, had to stoop to your level after what I saw in there,” Buck stated.

“Okay fine, so I’ve probably not been the most welcoming,” Eddie finally admitted. “But he thinks he can really take your place that easy. It’s…”

“It’s supposed to be that easy,” Buck said. “People transfer in and out of other houses all the time.”

“Bobby says we’re a family,” Eddie stated.

“And that hasn’t changed,” Buck said, squeezing his wrist again. “You said so yourself, over and over the other day. Nothing changes that. But families get bigger, you know that, right? Like they are meant to. Took me a while to see it, but I did. Why do you think I’m here?”

“About that,” Eddie said, attempting to ignore the way his heart was pounding and the fact Buck still had ahold of his wrist. “Why are you here? I figured you’d be at home, you don’t have PT ‘til tomorrow.”

“Sweet of you to know my schedule,” Buck smirked. “I was bored staring at the same walls and daytime tv sucks. But don’t change the subject. Just give the guy a shot, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbled.

“Also, did you just call me adorable and admit to stalking my schedule?” Buck said with a shit-eating grin.

“Of course, that’s the part you zero in on,” Eddie sighed and shook his head. “And it’s not stalking when you’re using me and my son’s caretaker to get to your PT. I kind of need to know this stuff.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Buck tried not to laugh.

“You are insufferable,” Eddie stated.

“And yet you still miss me,” Buck told him.

“Every day,” Eddie admitted.

“That makes two of us,” Buck said, his tone a bit sheepish. “I miss being your partner too, by the way.”

“Screw it,” Eddie said before shifting their grips so Buck’s hand was in his. “You’ll always be my partner, one way or another.”

“Really?” Buck stared up at him.

“Really,” Eddie chuckled and leaned down so he was on Buck’s level. He captured Buck’s lips with his. He leaned his forehead against Buck’s when they broke for air. “Now, you going to stop trying to push me and Christopher away, right?” He grinned at the way he felt Buck’s nod. “Good.”

“Just don’t go doing that with the new guy, and we’ll be good,” Buck stated, earning a laugh from Eddie.

“Well, he’s no you,” Eddie said with a grin.

“Hey lovebirds.” They both looked up as Carla neared them. “As happy as I am to see you two finally get your moment, I’m going to need to end it. Unless you want your kid waiting at school by himself,” Carla said, grinning.

“Everyone’s always bringing the kid into it.” Eddie shook his head as he stood up.

“Well someone has to,” Carla stated.

“See you later,” Buck told Eddie.

“I’ll get a pizza on the way,” Eddie nodded.

“Works for me,” Buck grinned.

“Then it’s a date,” Eddie smirked. “Bye, Carla,” he called back as he headed back into the station. Sure he was going to get an earful from an eavesdropping team. He was sure they had watched the whole thing play out from the loft window and would have a million questions.

Buck looked up at a grinning Carla. “Don’t say it,” Buck said.

“I wasn’t going to, but you know Christopher will be over the moon when he finds out,” Carla stated as they headed back to the car.

Buck agreed and was finally starting to feel like his life was back on track. It wasn’t perfect, but he had good friends that were more of a family than he ever had before. He might have lost a leg, but he got so much more in return.

[youjustwaitsunshine]

Sebs interview with Der Spiegel, 26.6.2021, Part 2

as with Part 1, there might be some typos or small translation errors

Q: Formula 1 team bosses like Toto Wolff from Mercedes say that the Grand Prix circus has a communication problem. It hadn't worked to explain the grand efficiency of those hybrid engines to the audience.

A: The problem of Formula 1 to me isn't a question of communication. It's a question of relevance. We ask ourselves if we're allowed to shoot fireworks on New Year - because that also produces fine particles and emits CO2. In a time like this it's fully justified that Formula 1 has to fight for its place and its right to stay. So it should again become a development ground for the sake of the series production and - because we need mobility - for the sake of the environment.

Q: What does serial production owe to Formula 1?

A: Innovations like the ABS, for example,kr traction control. Driving has gotten safer for the individual person, accidents get avoided. That's what I call relevant. If you look into my race car today, it has none of that.

Q: Why?

A: Because it's about putting the driver's performance into the spotlight. And with it the sport and the entertainment. Which is correct, but it took the relevance from Formula 1.

Q: How can Formula 1 become a development ground for the car industry again?

A: A great chance could be the development of synthetic fuels.

Q: The German car industry is steering strongly towards electric engines. And you want to save the dated combustion engine?

A: On this world, there's about a billion cars that burn diesel or petrol. Those can't be replaced from one day to the next. It would also be desirable to find a way to operate those cars without damaging the environment. I know that synthetic fuels stand only at the beginning of development, that it still takes time, that it's expensive. But if nobody pushes that development, it will always stay that expensive.

Q: Do you think the switch to electric drive is a mistake?

A: I wouldn't say a mistake, no. But like with everything in life, you shouldn't just bet on one horse. We can't just look at Germany here. We have to look at this globally and look at regions where the switch away from the combustion engine can't be completed that quickly. Who's going to build a useful charging infrastructure in Africa or South America in a time that short? And what about trucks, about ships and planes? It's not foreseeable with those when they can be operated electrically. So we need alternatives. And Formula 1 is perfect for that.

Q: The FIA has frozen all engine regulations until 2025. The manufacturers invested hundreds of millions into the engines. Those should amortize first.

A: I understand the argumentation. Only, if the FIA announces to force more environmentally friendly engines from 2025 onwards, I'm asking myself why we delay such an important development. It needs the courage to not hold on to old things anymore. Not to treat the interests of individuals with consideration but act in the interest of us all.

Q: After your five years with Ferrari you didn't end your career and looked for a new job in F1. So you decided to stay part of the system.

A: Please assume that I give my opinions openly to the decision makers who make the rules. And as a driver I'm probably listened to more than as a retired driver. Again: if the rules dictated to maybe mix 50% synthetic fuels in for the transition and then drive with 100% non-fossil fuels in a few years, that would be exactly the challenge Formula 1 needs - quickly bringing technological innovation on the road.

Q: The Grand Prix circus leaves a massive ecological footprint. There used to be 16 races, mostly in Europe, today its 23 races and all the people and the material gets flown from continent to continent.

A: Absolutely. The race calendar doesn't make much sense. At the moment it's following too much the interests and wishes of singular countries and sponsors, same as the pointless waste of resources at plane shows. Those are things that can be worked out quickly and where the change would have a big impact. I hear from other sports trying to reduce their travel efforts. The ski circus wants to avoid the commute between Austria, Switzerland and the other Alpine countried in the future and plan a sensible route through the winter instead.

Q: Would Formula 1 be willing to do that?

A: It's talked about at least. The Formula 1 management have invited me to a round table discussion about environmental issues last time, where there were talks about the race calendar as well. I hope this get worked on now.

Q: The sport has a far reaching autonomy, should politics give more impulses in environmental questions?

A: Firstly, it's important that people understand that protecting the environment concerns everyone. Then I would wish for a change in Germany, to lead with a good example. That there isn't only talking but action. The Bundesverfassungsgericht (federal constitutional court) upped the pressure with the decision for climate protection. I think there needs to be a change at the top.

Q: So you want the Green Party in power?

A: I know that the Green Party often get called a 'prohibition party', but we have to move away from words like prohibition or sacrifice and from the fear, everything would develop into a bad direction. We should recognize the chances.

Q: You're going to vote green?

A: At the moment, almost every party has climate protection written on their banner and in their program. The question is, where will actually something happen. We should vote for a government where we're convinced that they stand for those values and principles most authentically. Yes, I will vote Green.

Q: Isn't it shocking to you that the Green Party in the case of their government participation will want to plead for a speed limit on german motorways?

A: The times where you could really step on the gas on the motorway are long gone anyways. It feels like half the motorway is under construction all the time and the other half has so much traffic that you can't drive fast. I actually believe we'd be better of with a 120 or 130 kph speed limit, just because the traffic would flow better.

Q/End: Mr Vettel, thank you for the conversation.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

THIS IS SO GOOD. To be honest, I saw this late last night and I just needed to sit with it for a minute, this is an amazing analysis and theory.

And I think you've touched on a really important point about the car's symbolic meaning. I think the car is partly symbolic of her own autonomy and the maturity that comes with claiming/not claiming your own autonomy.

In Debut, she's never driving the car. Ever. At that point and in the duration of her writing the album (from 12 or 13 to 16), she's not driving. It is very casual. And she isn't yet mature enough to claim that autonomy (in this case drive). It's even a little scene in Picture to Burn when Taylor and Abigail are in Abigail's car spying on her ex who's letting his new gf drive his truck, something that he never let Taylor do.

In Fearless, you've got plenty of examples, too. In Fifteen, when she's out on her very first date and she's just giddy about this boy and talking about all his amazing traits. One of those traits? He's got a car. It's a very young, immature mentality. Having a car does not make a good boyfriend/partner, but in high school it's really cool. The car is symbolic of all those little things that entice you when you're younger.

And Speak Now era, was probably the first era that Taylor went from being Taylor, aspiring country singer, to Taylor Swift, and the whole famous exes thing, the VMA thing. She's in the spotlight, and she's very aware of it. For all intents and purposes, she's lost all her autonomy. She can't go wherever she wants, do what she wants, date who she wants. She's not in control. And I think that's compounded by the John Mayer thing, because yes, a 32 year old dating a 19 year old will very likely strip you of your autonomy. Being publicly humiliated at the VMAs by a totally different 32 year old man. The narrative that is slowly being built around her. She's not driving the car anymore. She's just the passenger watching as her life and career just races forward.

And I think in Red, she's talking about the car, a Maserti, which is a really nice car, don't quote me though I know very little about cars. Anyway, this very nice car is going down a dead end street. It's very blurred because in most songs, she isn't talking about who's driving the car, just that the car is being driven. She's once again with an older man, who from what we've heard in the story isn't that great of a guy, and she knows it's a doomed relationship from the start. She's not sure who's driving the car because she had no idea who was actually calling the shots. She's at a very confusing stage in her life and she's not sure if she's the one making the choices to get in and drive the car or if the car is being driven for her down a dead end street. Am I going too far with this car metaphor, I don't know? This is the case for everything except All Too Well. She's not driving the car, she's looking back and realizing that this relationship was not really the romantic, whirlwind she thought it was. She wasn't driving the car, he was "And you were tossing me the car keys" "You almost ran the red because you were looking at me" She looks back and remembers him driving the car, him tossing her the keys, him taking and giving that autonomy as he pleased.

And this is getting really, really long because I loved this theory so much, like so, so much.

So I'll just say one more thing.

In 1989, we learn that Harry Styles can't drive.

I would love to hear that essay, because THIS WAS AMAZING 💛

13/13

@anonymityisfunwriter

I have a new Taylor Theory, lemme know if you want the deets.

[immensetruckingsolutionsltd]

Independent Truckers: The Long-Term Benefits of Commitment to Your Business

In the ever-evolving landscape of the trucking industry, independent truckers face unique challenges and opportunities. Along the road, those who commit to their business often reap significant long-term benefits.

Building a Strong Reputation

For independent truckers, reputation is everything. Committing to delivering exceptional service helps build a strong reputation within the industry. Satisfied clients to recommend your services to others, leading to new business opportunities. By providing reliable, on-time deliveries and maintaining open lines of communication, you establish yourself as a trustworthy partner in logistics. 2. Customer Loyalty

Long-term commitment fosters strong relationships with clients. When customers need it, they are more likely to become repeat clients. Building customer loyalty is essential in the trucking industry, where competition is fierce. 3. Increased Earnings Potential

While the initial stages of independent trucking can be challenging, a long-term commitment often leads to increased earnings. As you establish yourself and build a network of loyal clients, you can negotiate better rates and contracts that reflect your expertise and reliability. Additionally, long-standing relationships with brokers and shippers can lead to more consistent loads, reducing downtime and increasing your overall income. 4. Enhanced Skills and Expertise

Committing to your business allows you to invest time in developing your skills and knowledge. Whether attending workshops, participating in industry associations, or seeking mentorship, continuous learning enhances your expertise, making you a more effective and competitive trucker. 5. Greater Flexibility and Control

A commitment to your trucking business allows you to create a flexible schedule that meets your lifestyle needs while maximizing your income potential. This autonomy enables you to choose the types of loads you want to haul, the routes you prefer, and the clients you wish to work with, giving you greater control over your career. 6. Networking Opportunities

Long-term involvement in the trucking industry opens doors to valuable networking opportunities. Engaging with peers, industry leaders, and potential clients through conferences, online forums, and local events can expand your professional network. Building relationships within the industry not only provides support and camaraderie but can also lead to referrals and partnerships that benefit your business. 7. Resilience During Challenges

The trucking industry can be unpredictable, with fluctuations in demand, fuel prices, and regulatory changes. However, a commitment to your business fosters resilience. Commitment helps you stay focused on long-term goals, even with short-term setbacks. 8. Personal Growth and Satisfaction

Running your own trucking business is not just about profits; it’s also a journey of personal growth. The challenges you face and the milestones you achieve contribute to your development as a business owner and individual.

Conclusion

For independent truckers, long-term commitment is the cornerstone of success. At Immense Trucking Solutions Ltd, we recognize the dedication required to succeed in this industry and are here to support independent truckers in their journey. Whether you need resources, advice, or partnerships, we are committed to helping you achieve your long-term goals. Embrace your commitment, and watch your trucking business flourish!

[finalfantasyviiofficial]

Callout Post for Nautilusopus/The Number I

For those of you that don’t know, I am bringing to light the actions of Tumblr/AO3 user Nautilusopus, who wrote the extremely harmful fanfiction The Number I, which openly condones racism, misogyny, animal cruelty, and abuse. 

Problematic elements of the story:

There is a scene towards the latter portion of the story where Cloud kills and eats four guards. Not only is this behaviour extremely abusive on his part for reasons that should be obvious to anyone that isn’t a freak, but is a gross appropriation of cannibalism culture. 

Abuse apologists will be tempted here to point out the behaviour of the guards that “provoked” this response. This is typical victim-blaming at its worst, especially when the guards were creating a sex-positive environment, which Cloud rejected without even engaging the subject.

This also very clearly violates the guards’ bodily autonomy, as they did not consent to this.

Cloud is white, and exploits his white privilege to force a POC minority character (Zack) to perform tasks for him (carrying him while unconscious).

In this fic, the character Aeris frequently and repeatedly engages in animal abuse, in the form of calling her pet cat Cassiopeia “Shithead”. 

This is never condemned by the story at any point. 

Cloud is treated as an ethnic and cultural minority within the world of the fic (a la the Irish, the Romani), but is violent and has a criminal record, conforming to negative stereotypes about minorities.

The character Hojo is awful most notably for having a more prominent role than Lucrecia, the female character whose work his career was supplemented by. Once again, the narrative does absolutely nothing to condemn him for this in any way.

Tifa at one point ingests another character’s blood. This is media that is deliberately creating an unwelcoming space for Jews and Muslims, who are by law forbidden from consuming blood. 

This is especially unforgivable considering the presence of a Jewish character within the story. 

Cloud illegally crosses a highway when he is hit by a truck. This is directly the result of him speeding, endangering everyone around him. 

This is never condemned by the narrative in any meaningful way. 

Apparently this whole thing was supposed to be poly but the author was too lazy to follow through on a fully developed 4-way romance and scaled it back to all the main characters being bi, thus denying everyone more overt queer representation. 

Problematic behaviour on the part of the author/affiliates:

Associates with known art criminal @waifujuju who did not draw her last few pieces with backlit characters, thus openly gaslighting her followers. 

WaifuJuju has further sullied her reputation by creating fanart for the fic.

Other tumblr users to willingly associate themselves with the author and their content via art include @tofuthebold, @kaiju-dragon, @masquerabe, and @fury-brand, (receipts: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]) They have failed to openly condemn Nautilusopus in any way, and instead have offered their enthusiastic support.

fury-brand also further openly glorifies the unethical consumption of peanut butter in her art submission, a point of view also flaunted by Nautilusopus in the fic in question.

Especially egregious is Tumblr user @themateriodictable, who plagiarised famously problematic cartoon show Rick and Morty for the sake of creating fanart. 

Please, do not support Nautilusopus or their fic, which can be found here!

[sourbat]

top 6 writing influences?

This is a long one, so here's the short answer (in no particular order):

1. Exploitation Films

2. Reoccurring trauma

3. Literature by POC

4. Socialism

5. The Beats

6. Traditional Horror

And if you want the longer version, read more underneath.

Exploitations Films- So before I went and majored in literature, I wanted to direct film. More specifically, I wanted to direct exploitation films that centered on extreme violence and government oppression. I was majorly influenced by the “Torture Porn” era of exploitation films (early-mid 2000s- early 2010s), but since delving into the world of SAW I’ve taken the plunge into other works such as Pasolini’s Salo, or Greenaway’s The Cook, the Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover and looked at the hidden meaning behind these messages. I quickly learned that these obscene and extreme films all had some underlying message: that violence is justifiable in certain circumstances (ex: if you’re wealthy). I wanted to make films that discussed these “justifiable” excuses, reasons that we as a society make up. I used to write more of these satires, but since then have taken the next step to theorizing solutions, or means to subvert our oppressors.

Reoccurring Violence/Trauma- I mean this was my whole MA career right here. I studies films, games, and other media centered on violence and past traumas. This is sorta where I gained a real appreciation for intergenerational trauma, and when I started to discuss and explore my own. Again, much of my older works discuss the trauma to an extreme extent, whereas these days it’s less about the suffering, and more about finding the root cause and beginning to heal. I wanna give a shout out to my girl Slyvia Plath, whose works still haunt me to this day. You were done dirty, girl, and you deserve to be taught in public school to help those who need it. (and before you ask; yes, my own trauma does fall under this category. but that's a more private conversation)

Literature written by non-white, POC writers, scholars, etc.-It was my second year of college when I was finally met with such narratives as “white people did not colonize the Americas and Hawaii. They invaded these lands, and still are to this day.” I finally had names of well established writers who LOOKED like me. Who grew up Catholic like me, and felt lied and betrayed like me. You never realize how bad you needed to read a book where the only people who are described are white (making them the outlier), and all the defaults are brown, like me. Like anyone whose read some of my wordier stories seem to presume I got my influences from writers like Shelley, Dickens and or King (and to some extent, they’re right), but it’s actually Viramontes, Diaz and Alexie that inspired me to keep on trucking with my writing.

Socialism/Socialist Theorists -I’m not gonna delve to deep into this one since I’d rather not raise a discussion on politics on this website. If you’re curious to know more, you can ask me personally how this affected my writing/viewpoints. I can say that many early modern writers (especially black) were socialists… you just don’t get the pleasure of learning about it until much, much later….

The Beat movement- The best way to describe this movement is “transcendentalism+ modernism and naturalism, mixed with all the worst drugs). This does partially tie with the socialist portion (though more communist if we look at our writers). Admittedly, I got into these guys thanks to Naked Lunch, a text I would only recommend to hardcore enthusiast, and the Beat movement is heavily saturated with mentally ill, drug addicted white men. There are some lesser known female writers, but I can’t name any off the top of my head. That said, a lot of the works are incredibly sardonic, sarcastic and designed to enact discomfort (gee, sound familiar). If you are curious to know and learn more, hit me up. I can recommend some of the less controversial writers of that time (or the big baddies if you wanna explore assholery at its worse).

Horror Stories-It all started with me picking up Goosebumps, and went from there. After that, came Scary Stories, spooky 80s choose your own adventures, King, Poe, Radcliffe and more. Gothic Literature gave me a window into women writers, early themes regarding body autonomy, feminisms, exploitation, etc. More importantly, it gave me a real good outlet to explore the women’s voice in literature. But really, let’s all take a moment to thank R. L. Stine for getting kids like me to read in the first place. Also, K. A. Applegate, because although Animorphs was technically Sci-fi, that shit fucked me up as a kid.