Chapter Text
Buck felt the heat scorch his face and burn redness into his skin even through the protection of his helmet visor as flames belched up from the shingle roof in front of him. He was at the top of the aerial ladder, the firehose held in a firm grip, waiting those few seconds for the first pulse of water to funnel up the hose and through the nozzle. When it came the hose jerked in his hand, spitting out a dribble of liquid first then the full-on blast that almost knocked him off kilter for an instant. He steadied himself and directed the force to where the flame fingers licked up from the slanted roof and out the second story windows of the house - a nice Cape Dutch in a good neighbourhood, not quite Hollywood Hills, but close enough. Now the house was turning into a fire-wrecked ruin.
He played the water over the flames, dousing the sparking dancing devils that leapt into the air from the roof and blasting their bigger meaner flame brothers that chased after them. Eddie and Chim had forced open the front door of the house and were working with a blitz line at ground level while Hen and Ravi took the back entrance. It was useless though, the fire had taken hold and there wasn’t much they could do that would stem the destruction, their main efforts directed now at control and trying to ensure the blaze didn’t spread any further than this one dwelling.
It didn’t take long for the roof and upper story to collapse in on themselves, even less for the house to become a smouldering heap of burnt out rubble, outer walls still standing but the interior reduced to twisted metal and lost dreams. At least no one had been home when the fire started, no one needed to be rescued. The look on the faces of the house owners standing helpless by the fire engine, watching on in horrified silence as their home burned down in front of them, was bad enough without loss of life to add.
When it all finally ended and there was nothing left for Buck to aim the hose at Bobby called him down and Buck took a last look at the destruction before descending the ladder. There were spectators gathered. The usual looki-loos and worried residents, all kept corralled on the far side of the street behind police barriers. Kids stared in open mouthed wonder at all the fire equipment and police vehicles, adults just as mesmerized by someone else’s disaster and Buck had the idle thought that maybe the difference between horror and spectacle was just the width between houses.
The clean-up took a while even with everyone working on it; hoses had to be stored, ladder put back in place, equipment packed away. Finally done Buck took his turnout and helmet off and hooked them into place then sat down on the front bumper of the truck to watch Bobby talking to Stanley Bronson, the ACTS arson investigator, newly arrived on the scene.
“Wondered where you’d got to.”
It was Eddie and the tray of the ladder truck dipping slightly as he sat down next to Buck, close enough their shoulders connected at the apex as they both stared at the ruin in front of them.
“So Arson Counter-Terrorism Section are on the job. Didn’t take Bronson long to get here,” Eddie said.
“Turned up while you were helping Chim with the halligans and took a look around. He’s just waiting for the K9 to arrive before going inside.”
“He thinks it’s arson?”
“The way the house went up there has to have been more than one ignition point. We didn’t have a chance in hell of stopping it, seems pretty deliberate to me.”
Eddie considered that before speaking. “Just like the fire in the storage room of the clothing shop last week. Why in the name of dios does someone want to do that; deliberately set a fire? “Buck shrugged. “Did you know that over 100 US firefighters are convicted of arson each year?” he asked.
“Of course not, but you do,” Eddie said, giving Buck a fond look. “You think it’s a rogue firefighter?”
Buck hesitated, the idea of a firefighter being an arsonist hard to even contemplate. “Maybe,” he said finally. “It’s a possibility I suppose.”
They sat in silence after that. The K9 arrived with its handler and Bronson waved man and dog over then all three walked towards the ruin, the dog sniffing ahead. They wouldn’t enter the property yet, still too much heat in the blackened mess, but a general survey of the outside was a starting point. Bobby turned his attention to the truck and spotted his two firefighters nestled together on the bumper.
“Come on guys, we’re done here,” he said as he made his way to the ladder truck, a slight smile ticking up the corner of his mouth.
Buck gazed out of the engine window on the way back to the station, letting the conversation highlights flow over and around him. Hen tried to engage him once or twice but he kept his responses to monosyllabic replies so she gave up after a while. He knew she was puzzled, but there were so many thoughts flooding through his head at once that they tumbled over each other and wrecked his concentration, stifling his usual need for exuberant chatter. He felt Eddie look at him curiously from his seat opposite a couple of times but he didn’t ask any questions, just left Buck to his own introspection.
Those looks though, made Buck’s thoughts bounce around even more. The day Eddie walked back into the station after all those months away was the day Buck’s world finally felt whole again. It had all started to come together when Maddie came home and he and Chimney made their peace with each other. But Eddie being back where he belonged and carrying with him a new aura of ease and certainty, settled that part of Buck that had been out of step for so long.
Then three weeks ago, on one rainy night, Buck had ended up at the bottom of a sinkhole. Two weeks ago he still remembered little about what had happened; vague memories of a lot of pain and water and, according to what other people had told him, a conversation with a certain Fire Department public service officer who for some reason had taken over his frantic 911 call. This week the memories were becoming clearer but not clear enough. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t focus on all the things Eddie had said to him during the call and that was a constant source of irritation. He’d asked Eddie, but the man refused to say anything other than between the 118 crew and 911 dispatchers they had found Buck and brought him to safety and that was what mattered, and in all fairness that was true, but he still had a niggling feeling he was missing something important. Added to that Eddie’s behaviour towards him had been odd lately; distant one minute, the usual closeness they had with each other back the next. It made Buck feel unbalanced, like there was a precipice under his feet and he might fall off it any minute.
Eventually he felt Eddie nudge his knee against his leg, bringing him out of his funk and he realised the truck was pulling into the station. Chimney jumped out first and headed up the stairs, loudly calling first dibs on the rest of the dinner left unfinished when the call came through, Hen close on his heels staking her own claim. Eddie paused a moment but Buck took his time getting up so he left him to it. He was there though, waiting, when Buck finally stepped down from the truck.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure. Just thinking too much I guess.”
Eddie gave him a long steady look, as if there was something he wanted to say but was doubting the wisdom of doing so. Curious, Buck waited him out, but after a moment Eddie just shook his head.
“We’d better get up there before Chim finishes off whatever was left,” was all he said as he turned to the stairs.
Buck watched him go resisting the sudden urge to grab Eddie’s arm and turn him back, make him spit out whatever weird thing was on his mind, which would pretty much guarantee a what the fuck reaction, so instead he let it go and trailed up the stairs after him.
True to Eddie’s prediction, Chim was happily munching through the last of their abandoned dinner when they reached the loft and Buck’s stomach let out a small growl at the smell of reheated lasagne wafting through the kitchen. Chim just looked at him, a wide smile stretched across his mouth, shovelling in a forkful of food.
“That’s disgusting, Chim,” Hen muttered, from one of the couches, magazine resting in her hand but ignored to give Chim a stare over the rim of her glasses.
“You snooze, you lose. You’re just jealous I got here first,” he said, smile stretching even wider, completely unrepentant.
Bobby looked up from the kitchen bench, a loaf of fresh bread and the makings for sandwiches in front of him. “Afraid it’s going to be cold cuts and salad for the rest of us,” he said.
“Right now I’m happy with whatever’s going I’m that hungry,” Eddie told him, collapsing down onto the other couch.
Buck wandered over to the bench and after glancing over at Eddie pulled two mugs from the cupboard and made them both a hot drink; tea for him and strong black coffee for Eddie. A mug in each hand he gave Eddie his and plopped down next to him on the couch, sinking back into the cushions.
“Saw Bronson at the scene, what did he have to say?” Chim asked as Bobbie started laying out plates of sandwiches. One landed on the coffee table in front of them and both Buck and Eddie reached out at the same time
“Not much,” Bobby told him. “They won’t know for sure if it’s arson until they’ve done a thorough investigation. But that shop fire we attended last week was definitely arson and there’s no evidence it was an insurance thing given it turns out the business owner was underinsured.”
“Ouch,” Hen muttered.
“Tie all that in with that garage that went up last month in East Hollywood, the one the 121 caught. Same accelerant, same method of setting ignition points as the shop. Makes a case for an active firebug working the area. ACTS has an open investigation going.” Bobby continued.
“At least so far whoever it is seems to be making sure no one is in the buildings when they go up,” Buck contributed.
“What? An arsonist with a conscience.” Eddie huffed, taking a big bite of his sandwich. He swallowed and looked sideways at Buck. “Buck thinks it might a firefighter.”
They all turned their attention on him and Buck shrugged. “Makes some sense,” he said. “Whoever it is seems to know how to set a fire where it will do the most damage.”
There was silence, the mood in the room turning sombre at the thought that one of their own was a firebug.
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time a firefighter turned rogue,” Bobby said finally.
“I guess we’ll find out a bit more when Bronson’s report comes in,” Eddie said, taking a final bite of his sandwich.
There was a mumble of agreement as everyone turned their attention back to their delayed meal. Deliberately lit fires and arsonists had to come in second when the alarm could go off any moment and they’d already missed dinner.
---
Their last callout came in the early hours of the morning and involved a trash truck, a fire hydrant, a water fountain high enough to touch the tree tops and enough water on the ground it resembled Cascade Park. Buck, Eddie and Ravi were assigned the unenviable task of trying to shut off the hydrant valve and ended up soaked to the skin even through their raingear.
Two hours later Buck was trying to warm up under the unsteady stream of lukewarm water of the station house shower and thinking about suggesting to Eddie they collect take out breakfast burritos on the way home. Since Buck’s jeep had been totalled in the sinkhole accident and it was going to take a few weeks to get a replacement, Eddie had been his part-time chauffer, picking him up for work and dropping him off at the end of a shift. If he was lucky Eddie hung around for breakfast when they went off shift before heading home himself. The next two cubicles were occupied and Ravi’s tuneless whistle was somehow managing to outdo the sound of running water. The young man’s eternal cheerfulness and sometimes youthful exuberance was both a source of amusement and an irritation, depending on the circumstances. Right at that moment Buck decided to be cheerful about it, despite the uneven flow of water over his head. They only had another half hour on their shift and Bobby had taken them offline in preparation for the B shift handover, so his breakfast plans could reasonably be set in stone and he had a happy feeling today he was going to be lucky, that Eddie wouldn’t be in a hurry to get home.
He turned off the faucet and reached for the towel hanging on the door, drying himself quickly before stepping outside the small cubicle to dress in the clean clothes he’d brought from his locker. Eddie came out of his own cubicle a short time later, towel wrapped around his waist, his hair plastered against his skull, small diamond droplets running off the edges and dripping down onto his shoulders. The sight of him, all wet and skin glowing bronze even in the artificial glow of florescent lights made Buck catch his breath. By any measure of aesthetics the man was beautiful and Buck never grew tired of appreciating the fact.
“Something wrong?” Eddie asked, rubbing at his hair with a handtowel.
“Uh, no.” Buck managed to draw his gaze away and bend to collect his still sopping uniform from where he’d tossed it on the bench, mentally chastising himself for being obvious. He reached for Eddie’s abandoned uniform as well. “I’ll, um, just take these through to the laundry room,”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks. I’ll get our gear out to the truck. We can pick up breakfast on the way to yours.” Eddie gave him the smile that always seemed more evident around him or Christopher, the one that never failed to ease the chaos of his mind.
It only took Buck a few minutes to add their uniforms to the general wash but when he got back Eddie was already waiting for him in his truck drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, a slight frown creasing his forehead.
Buck gave him a curious look as he pulled himself into the cab. “What’s up,” he asked, wondering what the hell had changed between leaving the shower room and blinking in the bright sun of the station parking lot.
Eddie didn’t look at him, just started the engine and put the truck into gear before he spoke. “Sorry, Carla can’t take Chris to school today so it looks like you’re on your own for breakfast. I’ll drop you off at the take out and you can walk from there. It’s not far.”
Which was why Buck ended up in his loft an hour later staring at the limp lettuce hanging from his breakfast burrito and wondering what had just happened.
---
Eddie compartmentalized, a habit he started at a young age as a coping mechanism. If he mentally shoved his failures and the unobtainable into a box in his mind and locked it up nice and tight it left him free to be the person everyone expected him to be – the son his father wanted, the dutiful husband and provider for his wife, the diligent soldier. It helped him live his life as he thought he should, until it had all fallen apart, or rather, until he had fallen apart. He was better now, therapy poking and prodding at those boxes until they opened one by one and became something just to be ticked off, the weight of them lifting and leaving him lighter.
It was the last box in that long line of boxes he had no intention of opening. It had the name Evan Buckley on it and was meant to stay forever shut, for his own peace of mind. But just lately it had begun to spring a leak, starting small at first, then widening the day Buck drove his jeep into a sinkhole and Eddie thought for the second, or was it the third time, that he might have lost him. He knew then that he had to slow things down a bit, keep it cool and seal the leak, before he ended up in a situation he couldn’t control.
Those thoughts rumbled through Eddie’s head two days later as he pulled up beside what had to be Buck’s brand new jeep – all Wrangler, all black, all Buck - in the parking lot of the fire station. He hadn’t seen Buck since Eddie had left him outside the takeout, breakfast plans tossed aside, but the expression on Buck’s face still hung with him. That Carla’s car had been there outside the house when he had pulled into his driveway because, despite what he’d told Buck, there had been no urgent rush to get home, was another guilt trip he could lay on himself. He’d make it up to Buck though, he made the silent promise to himself; let Buck take him and Christopher to that new beach Buck had found like he’d been talking about. They’d make a day of it.
If Buck felt any lingering annoyance at being so unceremoniously dumped he didn’t show it when Eddie wandered up to the loft after changing into his uniform, although he was deep in some meaningful discussion with Chimney and barely spared Eddie a quick smile and wave. Bobby clattered between the oven and the sink but Eddie wasn’t sure if he was cleaning up after the B shift or creating a mess all his own.
Eddie made himself a coffee and settled at the table next to Hen. “What’s all that about,” he asked, raising his cup towards Buck and Chim.
Hen raised her eyes from the text she was more than likely tapping out to Karen on her phone and peered over her glasses at him. “The probability verses the possibility of our resident arsonist being a firefighter.”
“There’s been another fire?”
Hen nodded. “The 133 had a restaurant fire yesterday, suspicious in nature. And the report came through on the ACTS website on our house fire the other day, definitely arson, same MO as the others.”
“It’s escalating.”
“That it is,” Hen agreed. “Bobby’s worried.”
The alarm rang before Eddie had a chance to ask her more, startling him out of his cosy comfort. No matter how used to it he was, those first strident tones always had his heart racing. Text conversation abandoned, discussion abruptly ceased, coffee left undrunk; they all hurried to the apparatus bay. Ravi had been finishing some chores in the maintenance area so was first on board, leaving buckets and cleaning equipment stranded behind him. Eddie and Buck came close behind. Hen and Chimney made for the ambulance.