Archive of Our Own ^beta

It started like this:

Chimney was made captain of the 118. He hadn’t planned for this, but the important part was that the guidance of the 118 returned to them, and Gerrard left them behind once more. And from there, things chugged along. There was that whole debacle with Hen after which Chimney did his best to give them all a better connection. He himself found his solace in his wife Maddie and his children Jee and little baby Bobby. He had his phone calls and hangouts with Hen, listening to her input while she went through treatment. Eddie didn’t have anyone but Chris, so Chimney often checked in with him. As did Hen. And Buck showed up at his house after shift often, helping with the kids so Chimney and Maddie could have some time alone. Chimney wasn’t sure how happy he was about seeing his brother-in-law both at work and at home, but at least he kept to himself and the kids.

They were all together. They were managing. Chimney was learning the ropes. There were still some growing pains but he was working through it.

One thing he had learned quickly was that he hated paperwork. It was dry and boring, but it needed to be done. And he found some interesting things.

Like this for example – a transfer request from one Evan Buckley. Chimney found it on the top of the stack of documents he had to work through, and he laughed to himself, shaking his head, not even looking at what it said before he tore it up. Almost one year after Buck had initially sent it out – he’d probably been too slow rescinding it, in the end – and it only crossed his desk now. Unbelievable.  

He forgot about it while he was in the zone, taking care of his papers. It was only later when he left his office, eyes burning with all the writing he’d looked at, and he encountered the rest of the team in the kitchen that he remembered. He sat down at the table with Eddie and Hen who were talking quietly.

Ravi was standing by Buck, and Chimney wondered when Ravi would finally grow sick of Buck’s constant talking. It was cute in the beginning, but it became too much very quickly, and Ravi had always seemed like a closed off guy to Chimney.

“Hey, Buck,” Chimney called to him. “Just wanted to let you know, your transfer papers finally made it across my desk today. I ripped them up, don’t worry about it.” He laughed. “You should count yourself lucky, other captains might have signed off on them. Maybe it’ll teach you next time you wanna do something impulsive.”

He continued chuckling to himself. Buck looked at him silently with wide eyes. Chimney couldn’t quite place the look on his face. Perhaps he’d forgotten about his outburst already. Buck tended to move on from things easily, which was a blessing at times.

Buck kept to himself the rest of the day, but Chimney honestly didn’t really notice it all that much. He did comment on finally getting some peace and quiet to Eddie who laughed in agreement. Buck didn’t say anything because if he was good at something, if not taking orders, it was taking a joke.

Left reeling from Chimney’s casual announcement that he had simply ripped Buck’s transfer request, Buck could do nothing but stand at the counter, grip it tightly, and stare ahead. He tried to breathe, inhaling for four, holding for seven, exhaling for eight seconds at a time. Again. Again. His last breath left him with a shudder.

A hand landed on his shoulder, familiar at this point. When Ravi had started giving Buck pats on the back, Buck hadn’t been able to place his touch. These days, Ravi was the only one offering physical reassurance to Buck, so it was easy to know who was near.

Buck looked up, feeling, despite himself, a tightness in his throat. He blinked against the blurry film taking over his eyes. Ravi looked at him not with pity but with understanding in his dark eyes.

“That wasn’t your old request, was it?” he asked.

Words leaving him, Buck nodded. He’d rescinded his first request before it could even be processed. But in these past months, Buck hadn’t felt like that had been the right choice. He’d tried, he’d truly tried, but how could he think that when his boss, his captain, would not stop making comments that hurt too much to be jokes? He even felt the need to put Buck down when he praised others, when Buck wasn’t even part of the conversation or the situation. He didn’t want to continue like that. And then, the thing with Hen. He was still reeling from her accusing them of not checking in with her. As if Buck hadn’t done that from the beginning, as if he hadn’t been blocked out by everyone. As if Hen would have actually appreciated him asking, as if it was him she wanted to ask her.

But if he voiced that, Eddie would probably call him selfish again, and Buck did not want to make Hen’s illness about himself. He just thought she’d been unfair. On the other hand, perhaps she got to be unfair more than anyone else right now.

In the end, it didn’t matter. Last night, Buck had filled out the paperwork with a heavy heart, sending apologies up to Bobby. They didn’t need him. And Buck needed Bobby, but Bobby was gone, and Buck couldn’t keep dealing with this anymore. So, he’d dutifully filled the paperwork out, dotted his t’s and crossed his i’s or whatever. He hadn’t been able to sleep, nerves making his stomach cramp. He’d imagined Chim would be mad at him, and the rest, too. Still, he’d proceeded, coming into the firehouse early so he could put his request right on top of the stack of papers on the captain’s desk. He’d walked out feeling sick with nerves still, but there had been a lightness to his shoulders. Only now, it had all been for nothing. Chimney hadn’t even read it, or he’d have mentioned something about the date.

Buck couldn’t- he couldn’t quite wrap his head around this. He’d been dreading Chimney’s reaction to his request. In the best scenarios he’d pictured, Chim would call him to the office to rip him a new one. In the worst ones, Chim did that in front of all the others. But he never reacted well. Buck wouldn’t have dreamed he would just ignore it all.

He’d been- he’d been, despite his worries, excited to start something new. He felt like it was time, like he really needed it. He’d looked forward to leaving all the pain behind and moving on. Chimney had said he’d only be sad alone if he left, but he was sad alone here, too. And now, he’d continue being sad alone here?

“Hey,” Ravi said now reassuringly. “If you really want to leave, I can help you submit the paperwork again, no worries.”

It pulled Buck out of his spiraling thoughts. He nodded softly. “Maybe I’m gonna wait a bit,” he said. “Take it as a sign or something.”

The look on Ravi’s face told him what Ravi thought of signs, but he didn’t try to sway Buck. He simply nodded and told Buck to speak to him when he’d reached a decision. And Buck was so grateful for Ravi’s easy acceptance even when he clearly had his own ideas about the whole thing that he could have cried.

He didn’t. He simply slapped Ravi’s shoulder in thanks and tried to return to his day. He was more withdrawn, but nobody mentioned it. Well, Chim made a joke about it and Eddie laughed, and even Hen grinned at Chimney in agreement, and Buck wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up by the ground. There was a time when quieting down like this would have made them worried for him. Now, it seemed they couldn’t get enough of it.

He was invisible to them at work. He was invisible at home. They hadn’t even been at his new place. Ravi and Harry had been, but Harry wasn’t really his friend, he was a kid and Buck’s charge at this point. He enjoyed having both of them over, but in his heart, he still yearned for the way things used to be. When Eddie would show up at his loft and they’d just shoot the shit. Having a drink with Hen. Joking around with Chim. Cooking at the station with Bobby and going on his last nerve, because despite everything, Bobby would still look at him with fondness. He missed texting Tommy all day and meeting up with him at the end of their shifts when they could. He missed just popping over at Maddie’s without seeing her turn into their parents with the way she had stuck Bobby’s ghost onto her newborn son.

Still, he wanted to talk to her. He came to her with his issues because she’d listen, and she wasn’t nice about it all the time but she could give him advice.

Only she didn’t quite understand who Bobby had been to Buck because she hadn’t had the same experience with their parents.

And when Buck came to her house after shift, Chimney was there, his boss, because they got off shift at the same time and his boss was also his brother-in-law. And he could see the annoyance in Chim’s eyes when Buck entered the house, asking him, “Don’t you live somewhere? I’m seeing you more often than my wife!” And then, Chimney laughed, but Buck couldn’t find the humor in his statement. It hurt.

Maddie said nothing about it. She just shooed Buck off to the nursery. She liked when he was over because she could spend some time with Chim, or with Jee, while Buck could keep an eye on the baby. Not even his sister was listening to him. He was spouting his worries out on a baby who carried the name of the man who might as well have been Buck’s father.

Everything was wrong.

And yet, Buck trudged on. He allowed himself to believe Chimney destroying his transfer papers was a sign from the universe that he wasn’t meant to move on from the 118 yet. Even though things didn’t change, and Buck felt more and more that it had just been Chimney being unprofessional. But he held on. He had wanted to leave, and he did still want to leave, but at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to stay.

He taught Harry. He helped him whenever he needed help, but he let him come to his own conclusions, come up with his own solutions. Harry was a good kid, eager and competent and a little insecure. That last part reminded Buck, of all people, of Tommy. He couldn’t stop remembering his own words when he’d pointed out to Harry it was easier for him to let go of something instead of losing it, and he kept remembering the shine in Tommy’s eyes that night in the loft, and that morning in his – now Eddie’s – kitchen.

Tommy had checked in after the funeral. His texts sat unanswered in Buck’s inbox. At this point, it felt like it was too late for good now. How much more could Buck ask from him? There had been that moment between them in the helicopter, but then Buck had lost Bobby and he couldn’t deal with anything on top of that. Now, it felt callous to text Tommy and expect him to still be waiting for him.

It was another one of the things that had slipped right through Buck’s fingers.

At work, Ravi continued to be the person he stuck closest to. Against all odds and their truly rocky start, they had found some sort of connection. Ravi was no-nonsense and stuck to his guns, but he was somehow more understanding of Buck’s situation than anyone else. They hung out, went to get drinks, Ravi came by Buck’s house sometimes.

Days blurred together. Things didn’t change, but Buck tried not to let it get to him. Filling out his transfer papers and accepting the thought of transferring had been a moment of weakness. He couldn’t give up on the 118 just yet. The 118 was his life. He was getting Harry ready to join their station as a probie. He couldn’t just leave now, surely not.

But then, Chim, well. Buck didn’t want to say hijacked because he didn’t have a claim of any sort on Harry’s journey at the academy. But it had been Buck Harry had come to, Buck who had helped him train, Buck who had encouraged him when Harry’s fears almost got the better of him. The others hadn’t even known about any of that. But here Chim was, leading Harry around the station as if the kid had never seen it before.

“And if you need anything,” Chimney was saying, in earshot of Buck who was lying on the couch, trying to read, “you can ask us, you don’t have to resort to desperate measures.”

Buck bit the inside of his cheek. Really? Did Chim have to speak about him like that in front of their team, in front of Harry?

Harry was a sweet kid, so all he said was, “Thanks for the offer, but I already have the best teacher I could ask for.”

Buck looked up to where Harry was standing with Chim. The grin on Harry’s face was proud and grateful, and Buck smiled back. He was trying his best to do right by Harry, and hearing the praise from the kid himself meant a lot to Buck.

But all Chim did was scoff and roll his eyes. “Come on, don’t knock it ‘til you try it. Pretty sure anybody could do better for a teacher.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked, rankled.

Buck tried to catch his eyes and tell him wordlessly that it was fine, that he didn’t need to push. He shouldn’t try and catch Chimney’s ire before he even started working at the 118. Buck did not want his first experience as a probie to be an uncomfortable one.

Chimney, unperturbed, laughed and clapped Harry on the shoulder. “You know what Buck is like,” he reasoned. “I don’t think I need to elaborate.”

And Buck did want to say something, wanted to put themselves between them before they both started digging their respective graves deeper, but he was frozen on the couch. He wasn’t sure how Chimney would react to Buck trying to diffuse the situation. He probably hadn’t noticed the incredulous expression on Harry’s face. He tended not to notice these things.

“That’s not nice,” Harry pointed out with an unimpressed, flat tone.

Chim froze, eyes widening. “It’s a joke.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny,” Harry retorted, staring intently at Chim. “You’re his boss, you shouldn’t be making comments like that. Makes me worry that you’ll say the same stuff to me.”

“I’d never-” Chim protested, but his words faded when Harry simply continued staring at him. And then, he left. Turned around and fled to his office.

Who would have thought that all it took for Chimney to stop his comments was an eighteen-year-old with a thousand-yard-stare? Buck dropped his book as Harry neared the couch, a pinched expression on his face. With a start, Buck realized that Harry was protective of him. And Harry was just a kid, he had no business trying to protect Buck! It should be the other way around, Buck making sure that Harry was well prepared for the future.

“You don’t have to take this,” Harry said.

No, he really didn’t. Things weren’t going to change, and the moment of hope he’d had had been- well, naïve, apparently. It hadn’t been a sign that he was meant to stay at the 118 when Chimney ripped his papers, it was a sign that Chim had his own ideas and agendas and he accepted no alternatives. He was turning into a tyrant again. He was a shit captain, honestly. His opinion of Buck would never change, and the others would follow his example.

They wouldn’t realize that Buck was helping Harry out and preparing him for what was to come. They thought he’d make Harry reckless, and had nothing to teach him. They thought Harry could easily find a better teacher, despite the fact that none of them had offered to actually help him train. That was all Buck.

“If this is how things are, I don’t know if I even want to join the 118,” Harry said now.

Buck sat up. He wished he could tell Harry that the 118 was the right place for him and not to worry, they would treat him right. He was sure they would think they were treating Harry right, playfully teasing him, when instead, they were tearing him down. Harry needed his confidence built up, he needed the right guidance. And he wasn’t sure Chim could give him that.

“You don’t have to join the 118 if you don’t want to,” Buck said, hardly believing he was saying these words. “There’s plenty of stations that would be lucky to have you.”

And perhaps, Buck should start applying that logic to himself, too. He’d started subconsciously playing with the thought that he was training Harry to be his replacement on the team, but perhaps that wasn’t it. Perhaps Chim would have to work to fill the gap by himself.

After that day, Buck continued helping Harry, of course, but he also scraped together the courage he’d had the night he’d filled out his paperwork for the second time, and did it a third time. He requested PTO, and Chimney actually tried to talk him out of it, saying they needed him there and this wasn’t the right time. Buck didn’t budge until Chimney finally relented with a put-upon sigh as if Buck was being difficult and a huge inconvenience for him.

Chim would have to change that attitude with the other team members, he couldn’t be pissy every time someone requested time off. Buck realized how insane it was that he never took time off. Tommy had taken time off in the six months they’d dated. Buck never had.

After that was said and done, Buck sent off his transfer request again. In an official envelope this time, with the date printed on it, so there was no way Chim could mistake it for an old one. He even documented sending it out. He wanted to be safe in case Chim tried destroying it again.

He would be transferring out of the 118. And while he did that, he had things to get right.

-----------------------------------------

Sal Deluca had been down this road too many times. Tommy met a guy. Tommy would let himself hope, and it would end, and he’d break to pieces only to pick them up, file away at what he thought was undesirable, and march on. Rinse, repeat.

Tommy had been so happy when he’d met this guy, this Evan of his. And Sal had cautiously hoped that perhaps, Tommy had finally found the guy for him. But secretly, deep down, Sal had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. And then it did. And then again. And again.

Sal could only stand by and watch as Tommy almost threw his career away for a guy who wouldn’t give him the time of day. Sal knew that whenever Buckley was part of the equation, it was bad news, but Tommy never learned, so it would blow up in his face and Sal would have to try and build his friend back up.

Tommy was a great guy. The best friend Sal had ever had who stuck by him even when Sal had made that increasingly difficult when he first got to the 122. And Tommy tried to put up a strong front, but he had a soft belly underneath. Sal didn’t know the whole story, but he knew that Tommy didn’t have the same past as him – big, loving Italian family. Tommy had pretty much no-one, and that made him both desperate to hold onto things and terrified to get hurt.

He was the best friend that Sal had. He was pretty much family. Gina adored Tommy. Their three girls adored Tommy. Sal’s Nonna adored Tommy, and she hated almost everyone not part of the family. Of course Sal was protective of him. No-one else was.

Well, that wasn’t entirely fair. Tommy was also close friends with his co-pilot Tracy, and she agreed with Sal on most fronts. Mostly on the Buckley front. Tracy had told Sal that this time, Tommy had been close to actually getting the boot. Best pilot in the LAFD, and he almost lost his license for some shithead boy who didn’t give a crap about him.

The problem was that Sal had heard of the damn kid before, and he respected him. Buckley was an exceptional firefighter. In the professional field, Sal would love to poach him for his team. He had the potential to be one of the best, perhaps even had the stuff for being captain. But personally? Sal hated Evan Buckley. And he’d do everything he could to keep him far away from Tommy if he could help it.

Buck blew a heavy breath out, slowly loosening his hands from the steering wheel. He had things to make right before he began a new part of his life. And one of those things was whatever that thing hanging limp and lifeless between him and Tommy was.

So, he’d driven here. He’d been to Tommy’s place a couple of times, but they’d mostly spent time at Buck’s old loft back then. Tommy had said it was because his cat, Odin, didn’t like strangers in his space and would need to get used to Buck slowly, but now, Buck wondered if Tommy had kept him a bit removed. On the other hand, Buck had been all too happy to spend time at his own place. He’d never pushed, never asked, even when he’d gotten the opening. Unfortunately, at this point, Buck could almost understand why Tommy thought he was the entry-level relationship.

But if there was any chance out there that Buck could fix that and make Tommy understand that Buck saw more in him and maybe finally convince him to stop running away when things got dicey, well. Buck would be a fool not to try.

Moment of truth.

He got out of his truck and walked the short path up to Tommy’s front door. His nervosity threatened to get the better of him, but he forced himself through it, taking step after step without looking back until he finally reached the door and knocked.

Tommy was home, Buck could see his car parked in front of the garage which probably meant he had a project in there at the moment. Still, Buck worried that Tommy would just not open the door. What if he looked out of the window, saw Buck’s truck, and just ignored him because he was done with him? So done that he wasn’t even willing to speak to him anymore.

But before he could spiral into thoughts of doom, he heard something move on the other side of the door. The rattle of the doorknob. And then, the door opened, but Buck’s hopes were dashed immediately upon seeing who was on the other side.

It wasn’t Tommy. Instead, it was a guy Buck had never met, someone tall and muscular with broad shoulders, a slight stubble, and piercing blue eyes that trailed up and down Buck’s form with an unimpressed look that quickly turned into a glare.

“What are you doing here?” the man asked, building himself up in the doorway as if to tell Buck there was no way he was going to let him in.

“I-I- uh, I-I-” Buck stammered, “I’m- I’m looking for-for Tommy. Uh-I-I’m Buck, I’m-”

A sharp laugh interrupted him. “I know who you are,” the man said with a sneer. “Tommy doesn’t want to talk to you, so you better scram.”

Was this- oh God. This was Tommy’s new boyfriend, wasn’t it? Some big guy who hated Buck’s guts from what Tommy must have told him. Through the ringing in his ears and the sound of his heart breaking all over again in his chest, Buck found himself looking at the strong build and blue eyes and thinking, Guess he has a type.

He opened his mouth. For what, he wasn’t quite sure. Perhaps to beg to see Tommy, perhaps to apologize and get the fuck out of there. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. There were few things he could take at this point. He’d already lost Bobby and was in the middle of losing his team and family. And now, he had to face the fact that he was too late. He’d been selfish to think Tommy would wait.

And then- “Who’s at the door?”

Tommy’s voice shocked warmth back into Buck’s frozen limbs. He hadn’t heard his voice since the funeral. He’d missed the sound of it, he’d missed all of Tommy, and he’d known it and known he’d missed Tommy so much, but he hadn’t realized how painful the missing was until now. Now that he was about to see him.

The man in front of him didn’t take his eyes off of Buck but called over his shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, he was just about to leave.” He said that last bit pointedly, eyes narrowing at Buck.

And wow, okay, possessive. Though Buck couldn’t blame him. He’d been like that, too. Jealously hoarding Tommy’s time and attention because it had felt so good, unbelievably good to be taken care of and worried about in a way that didn’t feel like someone was just waiting for his next fuck up.

“What do you mean?” Tommy’s voice was getting louder. He was getting closer to the door.

And on the one hand, Buck did not want to stay and have to listen to Tommy tell him to his face that he’d moved on. He didn’t want to see Tommy’s sad, gentle eyes as he turned him down for the final time with a soft, Look, Evan, I’m sorry, but-

Maybe he was finally starting to understand why Tommy felt the need to run and take himself out of the situation whenever things got tough. Sparing himself that pain sounded so much better than any alternative.

But Buck had told himself he had to make things right. And if he couldn’t make them right enough to win Tommy back, then at the very least he could properly thank him for what he’d done and apologize for going dark on him after asking him to steal a helicopter. He could do that.

Only the new guy seemed to have other ideas. Before Tommy could come close enough that Buck could actually see him over the stranger’s shoulder, said man had already slammed the door in Buck’s face.

He stood there, stunned. His hand raised in an aborted move to knock again, but he doubted they would open the door for him again. The ringing in his ears was getting louder and his stomach seemed to cramp. He felt like he was going to be sick.

He should probably just take the hint and leave. But he couldn’t help but think that this wasn’t what he came for. If Tommy truly wanted nothing to do with him anymore, then- no matter how much it would hurt and how much it would destroy the rest of Buck, he needed to hear Tommy say it. It would give them the clean break they hadn’t gotten the first times around with too many things left unsaid and undone.

He couldn’t have stood there for long, but he’d been so caught up in his own thoughts that it took him a bit to realize that there seemed to be shouts on the other side of the door.

“Was that Evan?” Buck heard Tommy say. “Did he leave already?” And then, louder, “Wait, wait, wait, hold on, Evan!”

“Tommy, don’t you fucking dare open that door!” That was the other guy, but whatever he wanted to say further didn’t matter because the door opened again.

Buck inhaled sharply and suddenly, he was stood face to face with Tommy again for the first time in months. Tommy was looking at him with apprehension and wonder. His eyes were as wide as he was holding the door open as if he was trying to invite Buck inside already.

“Evan,” Tommy said in greeting, voice soft and surprised.

The sound of his name washed too hot and too cold over Buck. How could Tommy still speak his name like that after everything? The surprise was awful, too. He was surprised that Buck had shown up because Buck hadn’t shown up for him in months. He’d already written them off, hadn’t he?

“You’re not about to leave, are you?” Tommy asked, pulling Buck out of his thoughts.

“No,” Buck retorted. “No, I wasn’t, I-” The rest of his words died in his throat.

Tommy’s new guy had appeared at Tommy’s shoulder, and with a large hand, he gripped Tommy by the shoulder and tried to pull him back. Tommy fought against him, roughly pulling his shoulder out of the guy’s grip. Buck frowned in confusion. That didn’t look like a good relationship to him. Was Tommy in trouble?

“Tommy,” the guy hissed.

Buck watched Tommy’s head snap around. He couldn’t see his expression, but he could see the other man’s glare.

“What the hell, Sal?” Tommy asked.

Buck almost flinched with the realization. This was Sal! Buck had never met him, but Tommy had told him about him. He was Tommy’s best friend, they’d been at the 118 together before Bobby had gotten Sal transferred. He was also captain down at the 122, and he- apparently, he hated Buck.

“This is for your own good,” Sal said now, pushing himself past Tommy as if he could put himself between him and Buck. He sneered at Buck. “I won’t let you run yourself ragged for a fifth time for the same guy! Can’t you see how bad he is for you?”

With that, he pointed at Buck who would have loved it if the ground suddenly opened up and swallowed him whole. He was mortified. Tommy’s best friend hated him and didn’t want him to be close to Tommy.

For the fifth time. Buck tried not to focus on that, tried to force himself to not think about the greatest hits of his and Tommy’s relationship that would have made Sal say that.

“I wasn’t a saint in all this,” Tommy pointed out, looking past Sal at Buck with big, hopeful eyes. “You know me.”

Sal scoffed. “Yeah, and I know you’d do anything for the people you date. And this guy,” he said that like an insult, “never does anything in return.”

“He did, he does!” Tommy protested and Buck wasn’t sure if he believed him. He’d been beating himself up over not doing enough. Did Tommy actually believe that Buck did anything in return that could match what Tommy had done for him?

Sal didn’t believe it, evidently. “Is that right?” He raised one finger. “He no-homo’d you on the first date.”

Buck felt heat rush to his cheeks. God, that was one of his worst moments, probably. He’d been put on the spot and had made a fool of himself, clearly hurting Tommy in the process. Buck wondered if Tommy ever believed he’d left the space of I don’t think you’re ready.

“He wasn’t out,” Tommy defended Buck. “I wasn’t going to force him out of the closet.”

“He asked you to move into his fuckass loft,” Sal continued, putting another finger up, as if Tommy hadn’t said anything. He gestured at the front of Tommy’s house to underline his words.

God, yeah, Buck had done that. But that was mostly because he’d spoken faster than he could order his thoughts. He could have moved into Tommy’s place, or they could have found a new one together. He’d gotten ahead of himself in more ways than one, and he’d never been able to explain.

“I panicked,” Tommy said now, eyes meeting Buck’s again.

Sal shook his head. “He said he didn’t have feelings for you.”

This was getting worse. What had Tommy told Sal? Did he know all the dirt on Buck? Probably, that’s what you did with a best friend. That’s what Buck once used to do with Eddie. They told each other everything. Until Eddie apparently realized he couldn’t exist in the same room with Buck without being nasty about it.

“I said something stupid,” Tommy retorted, voice heavy with regret.

At that, Sal rolled his eyes. “Tommy, you say stupid shit all the time, that doesn’t excuse saying things just to hurt you.”

And Buck didn’t like that, he didn’t like that one bit. He didn’t like that Sal had apparently immediately clocked him when he hadn’t even been there. Because Buck had known how Tommy would interpret his words and had said them anyway. Tommy’s words had hurt him, so he wanted to hurt Tommy in return, wanted to fight, to yell and be yelled at. Only Tommy wasn’t the kind of man to start yelling, and Buck still felt awful for ever having thought that he was.

“And then,” Sal continued when Tommy didn’t have a comeback, “he makes you risk your career. Again. You almost lost your license for him, you got suspended for months, and he can’t even be assed to check in, to ask you about it.” He whipped around to face Tommy, sounding more serious this time. “I don’t care if his captain had just died. You don’t deserve to be someone’s second thought and if you can’t see that, then I’ll gladly take the blame for it.”

What followed were some tense seconds. Buck tried to order his thoughts before they could get the better of him again. He’d wasted too much time not trying to talk to Tommy. He didn’t want to chase after people who didn’t want him – he’d done that too much – but wasn’t that what he’d done with the 118 ever since Bobby died? Clinging and running after their love as it slipped away from him? And besides, it wasn’t about Tommy not wanting him, he was pretty sure at this point. Tommy had been scared back then.

Buck didn’t want to have to chase after love. But it was about damn time he took the reins and stopped being a passenger in his own life, just letting things happen, letting other people make choices for him. His parents, his sister, his team, his exes, Tommy, Sal. They didn’t get to decide for him, only he did.

Starting with this.

“I- I wanted to apologize. For everything. And maybe talk if you’re free.” He hoped Tommy read between the lines of the talk-bit. Buck wanted to talk everything out, find common ground. See whether there was any chance left for them. Just because Sal wasn’t Tommy’s new beau, it didn’t mean he didn’t have anyone else or had moved on in other ways. But if there was any hope at all …

“I’m free,” Tommy said with a smile, something so soft and fragile it made Buck feel warm all over.

Sal didn’t seem to share the fuzzy feelings, though. He rubbed a hand over his face, looking tired. “Tommy, I swear to God-”

“I know what you think, but you gotta let me make my own choices,” Tommy said, turning his attention back to Sal.

He continued to look unimpressed. “This will blow up in your face again, Tommy. It always has. You deserve someone-”

“Don’t finish that,” Tommy interrupted Sal. “I don’t care about that. That’s not what I want.”

Buck couldn’t help finishing it in his head, though. Better. That’s what Sal believed Tommy deserved, and Buck had to agree. And he wasn’t sure he would be able to be the better for Tommy.

Sal looked between them. He rolled his eyes and sighed, stepping off of the front porch. “Call me when he’s done fucking you over again.” And with that vote of confidence, he was gone.

That left Buck and Tommy standing there, Tommy’s hand still on the doorknob. They stared at each other silently for a minute, but then, finally, Tommy shifted, stepping back into his house. He continued to hold the door open for Buck.

“Wanna come in?” he asked.

Buck did his best impression of a bobblehead and followed Tommy into the house. The door closed behind him, and Tommy made his way further down the hall. Buck took his shoes off and put them in the spot they once used to stand – Tommy was very particular about outside shoes in the house – before straightening up. Tommy had already left the entrance area and closed the door behind him – he was also particular about open doors, especially because of his cat – but Buck could guess where he’d gone, so he went to the living room by himself.

As expected, Tommy was already seated on the couch with his massive black Norwegian forest cat Odin by his side, rubbing his fingers over one of the cat’s ear. He looked up at Buck, and so did Odin, blinking his one eye at him skeptically.

Buck approached cautiously and sat down on the couch, a bit of a distance between him and Tommy. Odin wasn’t unfriendly, exactly, but he didn’t like strangers and he’d never truly warmed up to Buck. He hadn’t ever hissed at him or something, but he stayed away from him and ignored him most of the time.

While still scratching Odin behind the ear, Tommy looked up and at Buck, giving him his attention. The look on his face was carefully unreadable. “I didn’t think you’d show up,” Tommy said, making Buck wince. It was a dig, Tommy couldn’t deny that, but it was fair, all things considered.

“Uh-ye-yeah, I-uh- I-I I’m- I’m sorry,” he stammered his way through a wholly inadequate apology, but Tommy didn’t immediately throw him out again, so Buck felt like it counted for something.

Tommy nodded slowly. “You said you wanted to apologize, so I guess there’s that,” he said, and that didn’t really sound all that promising to Buck. But then, Tommy turned his head to look at him. He looked good, like he always did with his strong features, his gorgeous blue eyes, his soft, fluffy curly hair, but he also looked sad. World-worn. Kinda like Buck felt. “But you also said you wanted to talk. So? Wanna start, or should I?”

Since Tommy was offering him the stage, Buck began. He stuttered and tripped over words trying to piece together what had happened. He told Tommy about wanting to reach out but feeling like it had been too late, and that he would ask too much of Tommy once more. How he’d clung to the people around him, how he’d lost his home again, and found something new. Something fragile, something that he couldn’t cultivate while still remaining at the 118. He told him about Harry, and May, and about missing Tommy every day.

And then Tommy spoke. Softly, haltingly, hesitating to put his thoughts into words. But he did, and Buck did his best to keep his mouth shut and let him speak his turn. Buck listened, perhaps for the first time, as Tommy gave him the greatest hits of rejection. Pretty much every man Tommy had ever loved had failed him in one way or another – whether that was dumping him after he’d gotten hurt on a call, dumping him after they’d already moved in together, or dumping him when they’d discussed a house and children. How he’d had more than one ex realize they wanted something more, or better, or ended up fucking their “best friend” in Tommy’s bed. How Tommy may not have had feelings for Sal, but he had had feelings for Chimney. He knew how these things could go. He told Buck about how even if there wasn’t anything deeper between him and Eddie, Eddie was still a shadow in their relationship and Buck would always choose him over everything else – and he had, he’d done that, he’d sidelined everyone for someone who apparently thought he was selfish and exhausting. Tommy told Buck how he’d felt like Buck wasn’t asking him to move in, or to get married one day, but a representative of the queer world. And how Buck was just so ready to be pulled into directions – and wasn’t that it? He’d been pulled in one at their half-year anniversary dinner, and then in the other when he’d talked to Josh, and then he’d let himself drift, doing nothing to stop what was happening around him. Granted, he couldn’t control everything. But a few things.

“You live your life after the whims of others,” Tommy finished. “Your sister, Bobby, Eddie, me.” He sighed.

Buck nodded. He’d come to the same conclusion, after all. And he really had to think about it. If Tommy had actually moved in with him – whether into the loft or into Tommy’s house or somewhere else – what would have happened when Eddie moved? Would Buck have forced Tommy to move into Eddie’s place with him? Would they have stayed in different places? And then, when Eddie came back, what would have happened?

And how fucked up had things been for him right after the break up? How fucked up was it that he just let Tommy put words into his mouth he’d never spoken? How fucked up was it that he’d been physically kept from texting Tommy by Eddie and Hen? How fucked up was it that Bobby had likened his reaction to heartbreak to overcoming an addiction? How fucked up was it that Maddie had told him he needed to learn how to be alone? And how fucked up was it that Buck had never questioned anything?

Things weren’t good. There were a lot of things Buck wished hadn’t happened. But he was seeing how things were for perhaps the first time. He needed things to change, he needed people to change, and he needed himself to finally let a change stick.

“If we do this,” Buck said, gesturing between the two of them, and perhaps he was jumping the gun already, but where else could this be going? Tommy would have shut it down already if he didn’t want to get back together with Buck. “If we do this, I can’t have you waiting for things to end again.” He looked at Tommy, met his wide-eyed gaze with his own. “I need you to be serious about us.”

Not to say that Buck didn’t believe that Tommy had been serious about them the first time. But serious in a way that said make it the best it can be before it’s over. And Buck wasn’t doing that again. He wanted something real, something lasting, with Tommy because despite the fact that they were broken up about twice as long as they had dated, he’d never stopped having feelings for him.

Tommy nodded slowly. He didn’t seem offended by Buck’s word choice, so that was a good sign. He didn’t speak, and Buck felt his chest tighten with something like joy and despair. Tommy knew he still had something left to say. How was it possible that Tommy knew after all this time? When seemingly, no-one else did.

“You have to talk to me,” Buck finished.

Granted, Buck wasn’t that great on that specific front either, but apparently, Tommy had held worries during their whole relationship that Buck had been none the wiser about.

“Alright,” Tommy said, nodding slowly.

They fell into silence afterwards. There was a distance left between them, and Buck felt unsure whether to cross it at all. He wanted to reach out and hold Tommy’s hand, but he also couldn’t help feeling like they weren’t done here just yet. He watched Tommy and the contemplative look on his face and realized that Tommy wouldn’t just spill his guts without a little prompting.

“Anything that you want from me?” Buck asked.

Tommy closed his eyes for a moment. Buck, unsure what that was about, waited. It seemed to be the right thing to do, because after a short while, Tommy finally spoke again.

“Even if it makes me sound selfish,” he said, at first staring forward, but then, he turned his head, eyes meeting Buck’s. “But I’m gonna need you to put me first sometimes. Not above your niece or your sister. But some things, at least.”

Like a woman asking Buck to take a picture and not shooting her down by saying he was on a date with his boyfriend when she started flirting. Like listening to every other person first about their relationship. Like doing grief assessments with everyone except for Tommy. Yeah, Buck got what he meant.

Buck nodded. “I can work on that,” he said firmly. “As long as you promise to tell me when I upset you.”

“I’ll try,” Tommy said, and that was the best Buck could ask for right now.

With that, Buck finally felt the courage to bridge the gap between them and take Tommy’s hand in his. It was warm, because Tommy always ran hotter, and his fingers curled easily around Buck’s palm as if they had only been waiting for this.

“So, uhm,” Buck stammered. “What- are we-”

Tommy huffed out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Buck felt disarmed, coming face to face with that smile again.

“What are you doing Saturday?” he asked before Buck could stumble his way through his question.

And there was little left for Buck to do but laugh. A soft, happy little thing. Third time’s the charm, or what did they say? “Think I’ve got a date with this hot pilot I know,” he said with a grin, a bit timid at first but growing when Tommy responded positively.

Back then, when Buck had secretly daydreamed about getting back together with Tommy, he’d imagined holding him down and kissing him until neither of them could breathe. He’d imagined calling everyone to let them know. He’d imagined them hiding out in the bedroom for the rest of the day to get thoroughly reacquainted with each other.

As it was, they did none of those things. They held hands and scooted close together, and they spoke lowly of what they had missed in each other’s lives.

Tommy had gotten suspended from flying after the whole thing, and he’d only started going back properly for a month now. Buck felt awful for not asking about it and not knowing about it at all, and when Tommy waved it off, Buck insisted until Tommy finally admitted that he wouldn’t do any favors for the 118 again. No thank you and no contact from the people he’d risked his neck for was the end of it.

That thing segued into Buck telling Tommy he would probably not be part of the 118 for much longer, that he’d sent in a transfer request once more and hoped that things would actually work better for him at another station. Tommy had done the whole transferring thing, he probably understood what Buck was feeling at the moment. A sense of loss as well as anticipation for what was to come.

Everything was fragile. Buck’s status at the 118 and his future at whatever station was to come, and his newly returned relationship with Tommy. But Buck was determined to make it work, all of it. He’d find a new place for himself at another station. Sal would see, he wasn’t fucking Tommy over, he was dating him again. They’d take it slow.

-----------------------------------------

Hen didn’t work at the 118 at the moment, but after she and Chim had gotten through everything together, she sometimes visited him at the firehouse so they could talk and just spend time together.

The day had been a little weird already. Buck had taken time off for the first time in forever, and for the first time since Bobby died. The firehouse felt strange without him there, which Hen hadn’t noticed until he was actually gone. She felt like the others felt the same, with them sitting silently around the table. There were no jokes, no laughter, not even an eyeroll at Buck’s usual antics.

It was a boring day. Not that Hen was complaining, because if she did, all of LA would suddenly turn into the most idiotic group of people who would get themselves into the most ridiculous states of danger, and she’d be left alone at the station when she didn’t even work here. But very little was happening.

Until Chim came speeding out of his office like a bat out of hell, holding papers in his hand in such a tight grip Hen was sure there was no saving them from the creases. He slammed them down on the table, glaring at Hen, Eddie, and Ravi who had been sitting together.

“Look at this shit,” he spat. “Can you believe him?”

Hen leaned over the table to look at what Chim was showing them, and it took her only a few seconds to realize what it was. Transfer papers. Buck’s transfer papers.

“Oh,” Hen said.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “What the hell, Buck?” he muttered.

“Yeah, I wanna know that, too,” Chim ground out. “And just now when he’s not even here. Like he can avoid the consequences!”

Ravi stopped furiously texting and looked at them all with a hard gaze. Hen wasn’t sure how to read the kid. He was private, kept to himself, and Hen was never sure what he was thinking.

“You know you’re not supposed to show these sort of things to the rest of the team, right?” Ravi asked. “You’re the captain, this is between you and Buck.”

“No, this is between all of us! We’re a team!” Chim snatched the papers up and turned around.

“Where are you going?” Hen asked. She was getting worried for Chim’s blood pressure.

“To the shredder,” was the retort. “He doesn’t get to quit, not after everything we put into this station!”

So, Buck wasn’t exactly surprised when Ravi texted him about what had apparently happened at the station when Chimney found his transfer papers. But he wasn’t happy about it. Looked like Buck would actually have to force Chim’s hand here, and he’d hoped they could end it quietly.

That’s how he ended up speaking directly to the Chief about his transfer. He’d wanted to notify Chim first and talk it through with him before he actually went ahead to the bigwigs about it, but at this point, he knew there was no other way. And he wanted that transfer.

His talk with the Chief was also when things got- interesting. Because apparently, as soon as others knew that he was looking for a new station, a bunch of captains suddenly tried to butt in and get Buck to consider them for a new start. Surprisingly enough, one of those people was- was fucking Sal.

Buck was wary about that. He wasn’t interested in trading in one captain that belittled him for another. But Sal was calm and professional as he explained the 122 and his team, letting slip none of the negative thoughts that Buck was sure he had. He didn’t even glare at Buck.

“O-okay, uh, listen,” Buck said in the middle of Sal’s pitch. “I-uh, I-I appreciate the interest, but I- I can’t really see myself at a station with a captain that- you know, has personal problems with me.”

Sal pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said, sounding both disappointed and accepting. “Good on ya, kid.”

“S-so- so, if I’m gonna work with you, I need you to- to end this- whatever you think of me. I know you don’t approve of me, and I don’t need you to. But I need you to accept me as Tommy’s boyfriend. That’s what I am, and that’s what I will be. Tommy and I, we’re figuring things out, and if it can be helped, I will stay with him. So. You gotta get used to that.”

Sal’s eyes didn’t leave him the entire time. He watched Buck’s face, and Buck had trouble keeping his own eyes on Sal, but he powered through. He needed Sal to understand he was serious. He didn’t need him trying to butt into his relationship. He’d let too many people do that.

Finally, Sal sighed. “Damn,” he said.

“So, we’re cool?” Buck asked.

It startled a laugh out of Sal. “Fuck you, Buckley,” he said, with feeling.

Buck was a bit taken aback. “So, we’re not cool,” he concluded.

Instead of getting told off like Buck expected, Sal clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a good guy, Buck,” he said. “After your whole thing with Tommy, he did call me. Tore me a new one, and we had a long talk. Kid, you still gotta prove to us that you’re serious about him. Tommy has no-one but us, and we’ve seen this dance too many times.”

Buck didn’t stop the smile that took over his face. Sure, Sal still seemed a little skeptic of him, but he was willing to give Buck a chance.

“If you’re not sure about joining the 122,” Sal continued now, slipping back into his professional persona easily, “I can give you recommendations. There’s many other stations that could work for you, I’m sure.”

Buck thought about what he actually wanted from a new station. The points were easy. He wanted a captain that would listen to him without talking down on him, he wanted a team he wasn’t invisible to. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized something.

“I just- I don’t want a captain that I could potentially be too close to,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Sal asked.

“Chim’s my brother-in-law. He used to tease me and make fun of me, and that was okay when he was a paramedic,” Buck ignored Sal’s skeptical eyebrows, “but as my captain, it sucks. And Bobby- he was like a father to me. When I got hurt, he blocked me coming back and a lot of stuff happened.”

“Yeah,” Sal said with a huff of laughter, “we heard about it. Listen. Nash and my leadership styles are very different. I don’t believe in this lovey-dovey-we’re-a-family-type shit. I’m your captain, I’m your boss. I’m friends with some of my team, but at work, we’re at work.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I was never that tight with Nash. We clashed when he came to the 118. He was just another one in the line of captains that would be gone soon enough. He had a chip on his shoulder, and so did I. He lasted longer than I gave him credit for, and he seemed to have done a good job. Though there’s still a couple of things I don’t agree with.”

“Like?” Buck asked. Part of him bristled hearing Sal talk about Bobby like that. But another part of him was curious. The 118 was falling apart, and the fault surely lay mostly with who was left, but perhaps, some of it had to do with the way the 118 was shaped beforehand.

“Look at your qualifications, kid. You’ve been with the LAFD for nine years and out of your entire team, you have the most certifications. Why aren’t you Lieutenant, yet?”

That was a good question. Buck had never thought of it. “A couple of years ago, Bobby didn’t think I was ready-”

“A couple of years ago, you took over when a bridge collapsed and buried your whole team,” Sal retorted. “You should have been made Lieutenant in these past three years. Nash should have talked to you, encouraged you, asked you what you wanted from your career. That’s what a captain does.”

Yeah. And Bobby hadn’t. And all Buck could guess was that Bobby had come to the realization that Buck would probably leave the 118 to chase different things if he’d gotten the right guidance. Buck realized that Bobby wouldn’t have given the 118 to him. He’d have given it to Hen had he been able to choose, and perhaps even Chim. Perhaps someone entirely else. Never Buck.

“We knew you were Nash’s kid,” Sal said now, pulling Buck out of his thoughts. “We, captains from other houses, we knew all about it. That’s what we guessed was the reason he was keeping you back. There’s a reason why family working together only works in a few instances.”

He was Bobby’s kid. And captains weren’t supposed to play favorites, or least favorites, and at this point, every captain Buck had ever had had done exactly that. He’d been Bobby’s favorite, and then Gerrard’s against his will, and now, he was Chim’s least favorite. And it didn’t work. It hadn’t worked the first time, either, Buck came to the rapid conclusion.

“I don’t want another 118,” he said out loud. “I want to keep my work and my private life separate.”

Sal nodded. “We do that,” he confirmed. “But I need you to realize it. I’m not gonna be your daddy, kid, alright? This is a fire station, not a family. We take care of each other as a team and as friends, sure. But at work, there’s no room for that. I need you to make the right choices when they need to be made. In the field, I will treat you like a professional because I expect you to behave like one. I’m not gonna baby you or coddle you or anything. You do your job, and I do mine.”

That sounded exactly like what Buck needed right now. Something entirely else, to not be the captain’s kid or the captain’s idiot kid brother-in-law. Perhaps he would actually try for the Lieutenant’s exam. It sounded like Sal was willing to get Buck there, and that did sound promising.

In the wake of the talk, Buck did feel good about where he was headed, but he couldn’t help the weight in his stomach at the revelations he’d had about Bobby during his talk with Sal. He felt uneasy. He loved Bobby so much, but he felt- he felt betrayed by him, now that Sal had put things into perspective, and he didn’t know how to rectify that.

He wanted to talk to someone about it. But Maddie still didn’t quite get it and he didn’t want to burden her, he was definitely not going to ask anyone from the 118, and things with him and Tommy were fragile. He didn’t want to dump all of his crap on him before he’d examined it first.

So, he scheduled an emergency session with Dr. Copeland. She was a saint among humans because she booked him in for later that same day, some other client had cancelled, and Buck felt relief lighten his shoulders.

After the session, Buck felt like he’d been scrubbed with steel wool, sore and raw all over. But it had been good, if painful, to actually talk to a professional about everything. Buck had gone to therapy right after Bobby had died, and he was pretty sure the others had done the same, but since then, Buck hadn’t thought he needed it that much.

He’d been wrong. He’d been able to unpack dormant thoughts and feelings, guilt and blame alike, and sure, his problems weren’t suddenly gone, but he had a better understanding now.

Leaving the 118 was a good decision, and it was one that had been inevitable. He’d loved the 118, and his team, and Bobby, but he was growing, and none of them – not even Bobby – really saw it. Or perhaps they did but he didn’t grow in the way they had expected him to. Well, Bobby had, but he still didn’t fully allow Buck to grow further.

There came a time in a child’s life where they would realize that their parents weren’t the wise, all-knowing, perfect beings that did everything right and knew what to do. There came a time a child had to realize their parents were just people who made mistakes, who had flaws, and perhaps couldn’t admit to those flaws.

Buck hadn’t really had that phase with his own parents, given their strained relationship. He had a better understanding of their feelings and their actions after years of family therapy, but it didn’t erase that he didn’t have the most normal relationship with them.

But Bobby had been that figure to him, the one that a child would idolize. The one that Buck had idolized. And now, after his death, now that Bobby was gone and all he had was memories, he went through those memories over and over and some of them came with a bitter taste. It wasn’t a bad thing – Bobby hadn’t been perfect, far from it – but Buck felt awful for having those thoughts about a dead man.

But Bobby hadn’t been entirely fair to him. Or perhaps Buck just valued his opinion too much. Evident from his last words to Buck. They’re going to need you. And Buck had internalized that, had become a stonewall that the others could throw stuff against in an effort to be there for them, to be what they needed, when no-one else was giving him the same courtesy. When it was clear they didn’t need him at all, and they were almost using him as a punching bag. And he knew he couldn’t take anymore of that.

He wanted Bobby back. He always would. He would always feel like he’d lost his father that night. But it was okay to realize that just because he’d loved Bobby and Bobby had loved him, it didn’t mean that what Bobby thought was right for him actually was.

He’d been so worried about disappointing Bobby, of ruining his legacy, but. But Bobby was dead. In the situation Buck was facing now, his opinion didn’t matter. What he wanted, or what he would be disappointed by didn’t matter. He was dead. There was no-one to disappoint. There was no-one’s plan to follow.

At one point, Buck would have had to leave the 118. It probably would have been a happier occasion. But despite Bobby’s love for Buck and his guidance, he’d kept Buck back. And Buck wasn’t betraying Bobby or his memory in leaving the 118 and moving his career along. He wasn’t betraying Bobby by questioning some of his choices. He wasn’t betraying him by thinking that the 118 should have never been a family, and perhaps it never was, not really. They all just thought it was.

Or perhaps Buck was being too cynical in the face of leaving everything behind. They loved each other, but even a regular family couldn’t always work through the death of a family member – Buck’s own family was the best example. He never would have thought that this family would end up the same way.

He’d left back then, too. So perhaps it was about time.

-----------------------------------------

Harry was nowhere near graduating the academy, but this was now the second time that Captain Han had come to inquire about his progress and advertise the 118 to him. And sure, the 118 was probably a good house, and Harry would be among people who knew him and had known Bobby, but if he was completely honest, Harry didn’t want to follow every step Bobby had taken.

Buck had said he didn’t need to join the 118, and Harry wasn’t planning on it. He wanted to figure out what sort of firefighter he was before he went to a place that seemed perfectly made to have him exist in the shadow of Bobby. And Harry wasn’t even his kid.

He also wasn’t sure he wanted his first captain to be someone like Chimney. He didn’t know him that well, knew him through Bobby and Athena and Hen, but from what Harry had seen of him, he didn’t think this was the best idea. Chimney seemed to be caught between being the jokester coworker and the hardass captain, and it didn’t look like he’d found the right balance yet. Harry didn’t want to have his probatory year under a captain that was still figuring himself out. He felt like he would be better off with a captain that knew himself and what he wanted from his subordinates and could guide them and prepare them for what was to come properly.

Harry didn’t tell Chimney any of that. He didn’t need to justify his choices to anyone. And when Chimney grumbled about probably needing to fill the spot Buck had left after his so-called temper tantrum – sounded like Buck had actually finally transferred – Harry felt even more sure in his choice not to seek out the 118.

Good that Buck had come to that same conclusion.

Buck spent most of his time with Tommy during his time off. Also some with Sal because they both agreed they needed to learn how to get along now that they were going to work together. Tommy thought they were being ridiculous.

But things were good. Buck ignored the 118, he continued helping Harry with his work at the academy, he met both him and May to watch trash TV. He spent a lot of time at Tommy’s place, or Tommy came over to visit him. He hadn’t really been in contact with Maddie, and while he missed her, he was worried about what she might say to him. She probably had heard it all from Chimney.

His transfer request finally went through with the Chief forcing Chimney’s hand. Buck was to officially start at the 122 at the end of his time off, and all that was left to do was clean out his locker. And Buck dreaded that.

While Tommy had been on the receiving end of the 118’s dismissive attitude, he’d never had the brunt of them punching down. Obviously because of the whole thing with Gerrard, but also because the Bobby and Hen and Chim that Tommy had known had been different people. And yet, Tommy still offered to drive Buck to the station and come in with him, but Buck didn’t want Tommy to ruin all hopes of ever saving his friendship with Chim.

He still let Tommy drive him, because he felt like he needed a little pick-me-up after in the form of kisses and handholding, but he made Tommy promise to stay outside. Instead, Sal joined him. As his new captain to have a talk with his old one, he said, but Buck was pretty sure he wanted to just have a serious talk with Chimney.

When Buck entered the firehouse, he felt like the temperature dropped several degrees around him. No-one was in the bay, but Buck could see them all standing up in the loft, leaning on the railing. Eddie, Chim. Ravi wasn’t there. But Hen was, even though she was still in treatment.

A part of Buck hoped that would be it. They’d watch him silently as he and Sal brought all his stuff outside, and they’d let him leave. He’d go back home with Tommy and have a nice rest of the day so he could start at the 122 soon.

But then.

“Buckley!” Chimney shouted down from up above. “Up here, right now!”

“Oh, hell no,” Sal muttered to himself.

But Buck had enough. After his therapy sessions – he’d been back at Dr. Copeland’s office a couple of times after the initial emergency appointment – and crying his eyes out with Tommy as they talked about all the shitty things they’d been through, he was done.

“Think you can take care of the locker?” he asked Sal.

Sal stared at him with calculating eyes. “I can handle this,” he offered. “As your new captain.”

Buck looked up at the others. Hen looking concerned, Chimney looking furious, Eddie looking constipated. “I’m just gonna say goodbye to them,” he said.

And so, he left Sal to take care of his locker, knowing that he hadn’t left any embarrassing things in there, and climbed up the stairs. When he arrived at the top, Chimney, Hen, and Eddie had already relocated to the table, staring at him. Buck took his time. This would be the last time in this firehouse. He might as well actually take it in.

Despite everything that had happened, this had been the place that had helped him grow into the man he was today. He’d been made and broken alike by the station. He’d learned to cook here, learned to become a firefighter here, learned to be a human here, all under Bobby’s eyes. He was allowed to love the house, even if he was leaving it behind. He had already mourned the good times he’d had here after Bobby died and after Buck realized he had no room in the others’ lives anymore.

Buck didn’t sit down at the table. He stood there, looking at Chimney, waiting. If this were professional, Chim would pull Buck into his office so they could talk. But Buck wasn’t holding his breath for professionalism after everything.

He steeled himself, tried to pretend his skin was being covered by ice. Nothing mattered. There was a future for sure, all they had to do was not explode here. Buck could hold on, could just take the comments. The same way he’d always had. And it’d be okay. He’d give them this last thing.

Finally, Chimney broke the silence. “So, you’re not even gonna say anything?” he asked.

“There’s nothing left to say,” Buck said. Except for goodbye, he wanted to continue, but he never got there.

“Are you serious right now?” Eddie asked. “There’s nothing to say? Really?”

Nothing that wasn’t going to end horribly, Buck was sure.

“I can’t believe this,” Chim said. “After everything, after almost a year of us working through losing Bobby, and you still want to leave. You wanted to leave the whole time? You were just biding your time.”

Buck bit his lip. He tried to breathe through it, to find his words. He just wanted to say goodbye. He didn’t need to justify himself. It didn’t matter what they thought now. This was still fresh for them, they would get over it and understand. At some point.

He opened his mouth. He wanted to say goodbye. He didn’t have to or want to justify himself. Just say goodbye. Nothing else.

But before he could do that, Chim continued talking, apparently not willing to wait and see what Buck had to say to him.

“You’re abandoning us,” he accused Buck.

Buck furrowed his brow. He wondered if he’d told Hen that, too. But, no, wait, he’d fired her. It was only okay for someone to leave the firehouse if Chim chose it, or what? Buck could feel himself getting agitated. He needed to leave, and fast.

“Bobby left the station to us,” Chim said, “and you’re abandoning us.”

And that was it. After at first shunning him over his grief for Bobby, now they were trying to- what, use him against Buck? Use him to make him feel guilty? To make him stay despite the fact that it felt like they just didn’t want to lose their favorite punching bag?

“Bobby left the station to Hen,” Buck heard his own voice speak. He hadn’t wanted to say anything, but it was out, and the dam was broken. “He didn’t leave it to you, and he sure didn’t leave it to me. He left it to Hen.”

He sounded calm to his own ears, but inside, he was panicking. He hadn’t wanted to say anything. He knew this was going to escalate now, and he couldn’t stop it, could only watch as it unfolded.

“I didn’t want it,” Hen threw in softly.

“Yeah,” Buck agreed. That was okay. “But did you tell Bobby at any point after he made you interim captain?”

“What?” she asked.

“You took over from him several times. And there was Gerrard because you didn’t want the station when he retired. And then there was Gerrard when you didn’t want the station when he died! He never chose an actual successor because he thought that would be you.” And then, he really couldn’t stop talking. “And he only ever considered you, he never even spoke about any of us taking the spot, and we really should start thinking about why that is.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Eddie asked.

“You’re a shit captain, Chim,” Buck said, biting and cold. “You were the first time, and you are now. You don’t have it in you. And Bobby should have made that clear to you!”

Chim sputtered, seemingly trying to find his words, but Buck seemed to have stunned him into silence. Hen and Eddie were no better.

“All you’ve done since you became captain is talk down to me. Make me feel like shit, you find a way to make a joke of me when I’m not even part of the conversation! When you praise others, you put me down. Hell, I lasted under Gerrard, and I couldn’t do the same under you! We shouldn’t even have kept working together when you married Maddie!”

“Come on, Buck, it’s not that bad,” Eddie said. “He’s still figuring things out.”

“Yeah, and it’s not working. Not for me. And even if it did, I should not be working with my brother-in-law.” Buck stared at Chimney. “But you can’t separate your private life from your work life. The way you treat me, hell, the way you treated Hen! It all shows you’re not cut out for this.”

“What the-” Chimney muttered to himself.

“Well, you wanted to know why I’m leaving, right?” Buck asked. “And now you know. And it’s not just that. I’m invisible here. Hen, you said no-one checked in, but I remember you getting annoyed at me because I did it too much.”

She looked like she wanted to say something to that, but there was nothing. She looked cowed. Guilty.

“It’s just all about Bobby with you,” Eddie threw in, now coming to Hen’s defense. “All about Bobby, all about you. We just had enough!”

“Oh, sorry that my grief about Bobby included Bobby,” Buck retorted. “Sorry I was being too selfish being sad!”

He could see on Eddie’s face that it took a minute for it to click what Buck was talking about. He looked back to Chimney who was still staring at him, apprehension in his eyes.

“You said you would have fired me without a second thought,” Buck said, addressing Chim. “I’m just skipping a step.”

“What, so this is retaliation?” Chimney snarled.

“No, I told you what this is.” Figured that Chim didn’t want to listen. “This firehouse is a mess, and honestly, it’s been a mess before Bobby died, too.”

“Don’t say that.” Chim stood up, looking angry. “This is our home, this is our family!”

“And that’s the problem! When I started, Bobby told me that this isn’t a family, and he should have stuck to that! He should have stuck to that, and he didn’t, and now we’re here!”

“What, now you’re mad at him? After all this, after he died for us?” Chim demanded.

“Oh, sorry, I guess you have the monopoly on being mad at Bobby for anything, I forgot,” Buck hissed, remembering talking Chimney off a roof with a bottle in his hand. “I can’t be positive about Bobby, or sad, or negative!”

“Eddie’s right, things are just always about Bobby with you, and it was exhausting,” Hen said, and she probably didn’t know how awful what she said was.

But Buck knew. He remembered those words years ago, a lifetime ago in a grocery store.

“Why is it you couldn’t do what we did?” Eddie asked. “You could just grieve in private and celebrate with us.”

Never mind that Buck had had no-one to grieve in private with. Now they were apparently mad that he hadn’t- what, mourned properly?

“Well, maybe none of you loved Bobby like I do,” Buck concluded. “Maybe I couldn’t grieve like you because I loved him more. He was like my father. He was just your captain. He was just your friend.” And he knew he was being unfair. But at this point, why not put it all in the open? “There’s so many things Bobby should have done, but he can’t do them because he’s dead. And I won’t stay in this- mausoleum. The 118 is done. And so am I.”

He’d had a plan when he’d come up here, and it’d gotten derailed in ways he hadn’t seen coming. There were more things he wanted to say to them. He wanted to yell at them for all the comments, and all the bullshit. He wanted to cry. He wanted to apologize and beg for forgiveness and take it all back.

He did none of those things.

“Goodbye.” It was what he’d wanted to say, after all.

-----------------------------------------

It took six months for Eddie to run into Buck at a scene.

That was longer than Eddie had assumed. Well, he had assumed that once Buck was done throwing his little temper tantrum, he’d come crawling back, sniveling and crying for them to forgive him, and he’d come back to the 118. They’d make him work for it, he’d thought, but then he’d be back and everything else would be fine.

It didn’t happen like that. Buck went scorched earth with them. He blocked them, he changed the locks to his house – and Eddie only knew because he tried to use the key he hadn’t given Buck back. Buck hadn’t asked for it back, and now Eddie knew why.

Buck didn’t open the door to any of them. They tried to force him, knocking and yelling until he opened, but one of his neighbors called the cops on them, so they had to leave. He ignored them all, and none of them knew what was going on in his life.

But now, finally, after six months, the 118 was working at the same structure fire as the 122. And two other houses, but the 122 was it. They’d deduced that Buck was working there now from Sal Deluca, the guy who had helped Buck clean out his locker, who was the captain of said house.

Things had been tense at the 118 since that day, and Eddie blamed Buck for it. Because he hadn’t had their attention for two seconds, he’d lashed out and torn them apart, and apparently had no qualms in acting like they were the ones to blame.

Eddie always thought that if he met Buck at a scene, he’d be able to talk to him. Scold him a little and finally make him see his missteps. Instead, it happened so quickly that Eddie didn’t even have the chance to say a single thing.

“Kinard!” someone called out, and Eddie found himself confused. Harbor station wasn’t even here-

But then, someone ran past him, someone very familiar. Buck, eyes forward as he passed the 118 without looking at them. He stopped in front of a man that Eddie couldn’t recognize because of the shadow his helmet cast, but he heard him, and assumed it was Deluca from the red captain badge on the helmet.

“Well done, Lieutenant,” he said, and Buck snapped an honest-to-God salute to him.

But Eddie was busy staring at Buck’s back. He was in turnouts that looked brand-new, as new as turnouts could look in the middle of a fire.

Across the back, instead of showing Buckley, the letters spelled a clear Kinard.

So. They did not take it slow.

Buck and Tommy, that was.

When Buck officially left the 118, they’d only been back together for two weeks. At that point, they were still cautious. They went on easy dates, held hands, kissed, but they didn’t have sex. They didn’t even sleep over at each other’s places.

Buck started working at the 122. Sal kept true to his word. He wasn’t sweet or buddy-buddy with anyone while they were at work. He was strict, and had high expectations, but he wasn’t stingy with praise when it was warranted. He expected good work, and he praised good work, and offered good work himself. He also pushed Buck to get the Lieutenant’s exam done, so only two months after starting at his new station, Buck became Lieutenant.

With leaving the 118, he also ended any and all contact with them. Except for Ravi, that was. He didn’t block them, not at first, but then Chimney sent him a text that told him he was not welcome in his home anymore if he couldn’t stand with the 118, so Buck hadn’t seen his sister or his niece and nephew. Well, he’d texted with Maddie, but things were tense, and he didn’t know what Chim had told her.

He cut his losses. And suddenly, he realized how little he actually had. He had Tommy, and he hung out with Ravi now when their shifts matched up. He still met with May and Harry to watch trash TV, and he continued to help Harry with academy work.

But outside of that? Buck felt untethered.

Sal was his captain, and Tommy’s best friend. They were friendly outside of work at this point, and they’d probably grow to be friends, but that would take a while.

Rose, Buck’s partner at the 122, was fun and a dream to work with, but they didn’t do anything when they weren’t at the station. They had a couple of things in common – their bisexuality, for example – but they had their own lives. And honestly? Buck couldn’t put into words how refreshing that was.

He took up knitting with a group of five lovely, elderly ladies. He started rock climbing and met new people. Tommy started taking him to trivia and introducing him to the Gay Friends – capital letters, because that was the name of their trivia group. He and Tommy started doing more things together, met people as a couple, suddenly had a group of friends that weren’t explicitly Buck’s or Tommy’s, but theirs. They were an item. When one was invited, the other was too. When only one showed up, they were asked about the other.

Buck had never been part of a set like this before. Now he was. Tommy was his other half, the way that old people spoke of their spouses sometimes.

And then, Tommy got hurt at work. It wasn’t bad, just a light concussion, but he had to stay overnight, and for hours, Buck did not know what had happened. They wouldn’t let him see Tommy, they wouldn’t give him any info. The nurses and doctors just kept reiterating that they needed Tommy’s medical proxy or family, but Buck saw the way they looked him up and down. They knew. And they hated it.

It was the first time that Buck realized that people could tell and had their opinions on his relationship with a man, and he suddenly understood why Tommy was so cynical and world-weary at times. They were a couple, and Tommy was in no contact with his family except his cousin who lived in Connecticut. But they – most likely his father – would be the ones to be called should something happen to Tommy. And they wouldn’t take kindly to Buck.

It was a stray thought. That this would be easier if Buck and Tommy were seen as an actual family unit by the law. Tommy was already mostly at Buck’s place at the moment because along with the concussion, he sprained his ankle and Buck’s house didn’t have stairs. Odin loved Buck’s place, too, and Buck found himself wishing that they wouldn’t leave. And Buck wouldn’t be Buck if this thought didn’t stick to his brain and grow legs and run, and he wouldn’t be Buck if he didn’t accidentally blurt it out while he and Tommy were eating dinner.

Despite only being back together for two or three months at this point, they had come a long way already. Proof of that was Tommy not immediately running out of the house when Buck blurted out, “We should get married.”

Buck watched Tommy close his eyes and take a couple of breaths. He set his fork down and looked at Buck. “Can you- can you explain that?” he asked, voice only wavering a little.

So, Buck launched into his explanation. The medical part, and the tax benefits, and how Odin had stopped chewing on things in the bedroom here at Buck’s place. How he wanted it to be permanent, forever, because he would never love anyone like he loved Tommy again. God knew he tried. Things could happen any day. If Tommy was still scared of what they could be or how things would end, Buck wanted to know now. They had promised each other to try.

“You know,” Tommy said when Buck ended his pitch. “I was there when Bobby and Athena met for the first time.”

“O-okay?” Buck asked, not sure where Tommy was going with this.

“It was Bobby’s first shift with us. There was a rooster involved.” He laughed softly. “I didn’t think anything of it that night. Until I later heard they’d gotten married. It made so much sense to me. And I- I thought their story was cute. And now, Bobby’s dead and. And it’s just over.”

Yeah. Athena and Bobby had seemed like the couple to Buck at times. He’d been surrounded by couples who got through it all ever since he’d come here to LA. And he’d never thought about it ending. There were always ways to come back to one another. And then there wasn’t. Bobby was dead, and Athena was alone.

There was no guarantee for anything. Buck could die tomorrow on a call. Tommy could, as well.

“I want to marry you,” Tommy finally said. His eyes were shiny, reminding Buck of the look on his face back in his Eddie’s kitchen, back in his loft. Only this time, there was a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “If you’re sure.”

“Never been surer of anything,” Buck retorted, voice suddenly choked.

And so, after only a couple of months of dating, they got married at the city hall. Ravi and Sal as their best men. Gina and the three Deluca girls Isabella, Gemma, and Valeria were there. Tommy’s Gay Friends came, and Buck’s rock climbing group, and Athena, Harry, and May. Buck wished Maddie was there, too, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask her. He didn’t want to see her disappointment, he didn’t want to hear what Chim had told her and how she disapproved of all of his life choices.

They shared their kiss and exchanged rings – simple gold bands. Their black silicone rings for work would be arriving in a day or two.

They’d taken time off, and thank God for that. Their first time having sex since getting back together was also the first time having sex as husbands. They didn’t leave the bedroom until well into midday, and took the rest of the day to take care of paperwork.

Buck took Tommy’s name. He wanted something new with his marriage. He wanted to be a complete unit with Tommy. He didn’t feel that much connection to the family name Buckley. He’d rather be a Kinard with Tommy.

They flew out to Vegas a day later. They checked into their hotel room and then left to celebrate their new marriage. They went to a gay club that Tommy had been to several times before, and Buck met the bartender, a drag queen called Roxy Codone who called them both darling and was an absolute delight. He kept in touch with Roxy – whose name outside of doing drag was Marcel – as well as a couple others from the club, swapping bartending stories with them.

And Buck realized that he’d never really tried to learn more about the queer community since becoming part of it. Sure, it wasn’t necessary, but he loved learning things and he’d thought of himself as a good ally before. But ever since coming out, he hadn’t really made his way into queer spaces. Hell, he hadn’t even gone to pride. He could understand now why Tommy had thought he was the entry-level relationship.

But Buck hadn’t thought that back then and he sure as hell didn’t think it now. He wanted this with Tommy forever, and now he could have it.

As they were dancing between the bodies of other people, flashing lights and glitter around them, Buck never felt better. He was married to Tommy now. They had another whole week off, and then he’d return to work without dreading the reaction of his coworkers.

When Buck returned to the 122 after a week of just spending time with Tommy, celebrating, having sex, and moving him and Odin into his house while helping Tommy find renters for his, he was greeted by congratulations and gentle teasing. His turnouts with his new last name had arrived, and upon request, he showed them off proudly, even asking Rose to take a picture of them so he could send it to Tommy.

“Looking good, LT,” Rose teased him with a giant grin as he modeled his new jacket in front of her.

Claire, one of the paramedics, had ordered some cupcakes from a bakery so they could share the celebration of the wedding together, and Buck packed two of them away to bring home to his husband. Things were so good, he could have cried about it.

And so, the months continued. He worked, he came home, he and Tommy navigated married life and living together, and perhaps they hadn’t done this the right way, but it worked. Things were finally working for Buck. They were as good as they could be. A couple of months ago before he transferred, before he went back to therapy, before he got back together with Tommy, he hadn’t thought he’d ever be this happy.

It was six months after he’d transferred that things shifted again.

He’d almost- honestly, he wasn’t thinking about the 118 most days. He was busy. Being Lieutenant put more responsibility in his hands, and Sal was a strict captain with his high expectations, but Buck met them all. But that was it, at work, he was busy, and during his free time, he went knitting or rock climbing or to trivia or just stayed in with Tommy, working in the garden or going to the gym or just enjoying life with him. He didn’t have time or the desire to think too much about his old life.

Until one day when an unsaved number called him on the phone. He was at home, in the kitchen checking on the pizza dough that was rising in the sunshine coming in through the window. He and Tommy loved making these sort of things from scratch. He was pulled from his musings by his generic ringtone. He didn’t think much of it at all and picked up.

“Kinard?” he said into the speaker, still giddy about introducing himself with his husband’s name.

“So, it’s true then,” the caller said, and Buck suddenly felt like his blood had frozen in his veins, because that voice was Chimney’s. “Eddie said he saw you wear Kinard on your turnouts.”

Yeah, Buck had recently worked a scene where the 118 had supposedly been at, too. He hadn’t seen them, though. He’d been busy getting people out of the structure with Rose and getting them taken care of. He’d had to take control of a small unit from a different house, guiding them through a couple of collapsed rooms when they started panicking.

He’d gotten praise for that from Sal, and he’d been off to continue his work. The 118 had probably seen him. They’d seen his turnouts. And they’d probably also heard him being referred to as Lieutenant Kinard. For a moment, Buck took that knowledge in and allowed his petty side to take over. He hoped they were mad at his accomplishment. He hoped they were surprised. They never saw him for who he was, in the end. He hoped they hadn’t started now.

“Whose phone is this?” Buck asked. It wasn’t Chim’s, he was blocked, and Maddie’s number was saved.

“Don’t change the subject,” Chimney snapped.

“Didn’t know there was a subject to change.”

“You got married? And told no-one?”

“Why would I tell you?” Buck asked, not denying it. “I haven’t spoken to you in six months, I thought you’d take the hint.”

He didn’t let him say more. He hung up. He didn’t want to hear more about what they thought. He’d been so happy these past months, and he could feel his mood taking a dive immediately.

He sighed, shook his head. He put his phone down and made his way to the garden where Tommy was currently hanging out with Odin, painting. He’d help make Buck feel better.

-----------------------------------------

“So,” Chimney said to the group of people sitting around the table, setting down the phone he’d borrowed from Eddie’s girlfriend since all of them were blocked – all but Ravi, not that they’d asked.

Everyone – that was, Hen, Karen, Maddie, Eddie, and Eddie’s girlfriend – looked at Chimney expectantly. Ravi didn’t. He knew already. He still hung out with Buck, after all. They could have asked him. He didn’t offer up information unprompted, though.

“Yeah, uh. Buck got married, it looks like.” Chimney blew out a breath.

“To Tommy,” Eddie concluded.

“Well, we don’t know anyone else named Kinard,” Hen said with a shrug.

“Oh, Buck,” Maddie said with a sigh. “What have you done?”

Ravi tried hard not to roll his eyes. After Eddie had seen Buck out in the wild with his new title and name, he’d told the others, and they’d called an emergency meeting to discuss this. Now, they started talking about ways to find Buck and stage- an intervention or something.

Ravi stayed out of it. He did text it all to Buck, though.

Ravi had warned him, but Buck decided to show up anyway. At some point, he would perhaps have to talk to them, at least to let them know that he wanted to be left alone.

Tommy and Ravi had hit it off surprisingly well. They went to basketball with some guys from other stations like Tommy had done with Eddie back then. Eddie hadn’t joined this group – it was a different one, apparently – but now it seemed like Chimney and Maddie had thrown on their best stalker impressions.

So, through Ravi, Buck now knew that they had figured out that Tommy played basketball with the guys whenever they could make it and found out the next meeting. They also knew that Buck picked Tommy up from basketball so they could get something to eat sometimes.

Every now and then, Ravi would tag along. Sometimes, he wouldn’t. This time, Tommy and Buck wanted to invite Ravi and May over to thank Ravi for all he’d done for Buck.

But first, Buck would have to deal with his brother-in-law and perhaps his sister, too, depending on how this whole thing went today.

He took his sweet time rolling up to the basketball court. He found a parking spot, and then rummaged around in the back of his truck for the bottles of water and the snacks he’d brought for the guys. Then, he slowly walked to the court where Tommy and Ravi were wrapping up with the others.

He could see Maddie and Chim sit close by, and he watched them get up when he came closer. He didn’t look their way, instead calling out to Tommy as he came closer.

Tommy turned to face him, perking up as soon as he saw him. With a bright grin, he came closer to Buck, reaching out to hold his face and kiss him in greeting.

“Hi,” he murmured quietly.

Buck leaned in for another kiss that he readily received. He could hear the other guys hollering behind Tommy’s back.

“You’ve gotten real sentimental since you got married, Kinard!” one of them called out. Buck didn’t recognize him.

“Hell yeah,” Tommy agreed, his smile even brighter than it was a second ago. He kissed Buck again, deeper this time. Not fully indecent for the public, but a bit more than was strictly necessary. Buck soaked it all up.

Buck handed out more water and snacks because he knew that they never had enough after finishing their game. He knew two of the guys, they were from the 217 B-shift, Hernandez and Smith. The other three, however, were new, but they seemed friendly enough.

They said their goodbyes soon enough, leaving only Buck, Tommy, and Ravi standing by the court. Buck was just telling Ravi that they’d love to have him and May over – and how great was that, that he could invite friends over in the name of him and his husband? – when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

Jig was up, it seemed.

With a couple of subtle glances, Tommy asked Buck whether he should stay. But in the end, Buck wanted to face them on his own. He would call Tommy and Ravi if he needed help. And he’d prefer to keep Ravi out of it, he didn’t want things to get bad for him at work. Unfortunately, he couldn’t put it past Chim to let his frustrations out on Ravi.

He turned to face Chimney and Maddie. Maddie looked sad and worried. Chimney looked frustrated and angry. Buck hoped he kept a neutral face.

“You make it really hard to find you,” Chimney said in lieu of greeting.

“What was that with taking hints?” Buck asked in return.

Fury took over Chimney’s face. “Really? You’re gonna have an attitude? We wanted to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Buck reasoned. “I already said everything I wanted to say to you.”

“Oh, and you’re not interested in hearing what I have to say?”

“Not unless those words are I’m sorry or I’ll do better.” Buck felt strangely calm in the face of his brother-in-law’s anger. He’d worked through this scenario with Dr. Copeland several times. Looked like that training was actually paying off.

“Why would I apologize?” Chimney asked, and it sounded like a genuine question, which was somehow worse. “I’m not the one who left.”

“See, that’s why I don’t want to talk to you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a husband to drive home.” Buck was about to turn and leave, but in the end, it was Maddie who stopped him. And despite not really talking to her outside of texts in six months, this was Maddie. His sister. He couldn’t just leave her like that.

“Buck, wait, please. I just want to talk!” she pleaded.

He sighed. For Maddie, he’d do it. But on his own terms. “Okay. I’ll talk to you. But alone, or not at all.”

Maddie turned large, pleading eyes on Chimney who glared at Buck, but did step back and stay put when Buck and Maddie took a couple of steps away so they could talk in relative privacy. Buck took her in. Her hair had grown and her highlights had almost disappeared. He wondered if she’d re-dye her hair soon.

“What’s going on?” Maddie opened. “You don’t talk to anyone, you blow up, transfer, and then, no-one hears from you properly in months. And then Eddie tells us he think you married Tommy.”

That was actually a pretty good summary of the last months.

“I couldn’t stay there anymore,” Buck said. “Things weren’t good, Maddie. They were really bad. I had to transfer.”

Maddie’s mouth pulled into a thin line. “Just like that? You couldn’t have talked to them?”

“I tried,” Buck defended himself. “I tried all the time, but they got annoyed at me. Or apparently don’t remember I did.”

“And what about me?” Maddie’s eyes got sadder. “You always had me, why didn’t you talk to me?”

“You told me I needed to learn how to be alone,” Buck said, watching her eyes widen. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear it. Also, Chimney’s your husband. I didn’t want to put you between us.”

“I always want to hear it,” she reassured him. “I- I don’t want you to think I wouldn’t stand by you.”

“But standing with me is standing against Chim.” Buck sighed. “I want to be part of your life, and your kids, but I can’t be part of Chimney’s. I had my worst experience with him as my captain, and I also worked under Gerrard. And my new captain hated me before I started working with him. And they don’t even come close.”

Maddie opened her mouth, but no sound came out at first. “He’s still learning how to-”

“I know, it’s not easy. But I didn’t want to be around and wait for him to find his footing. It was bad, Maddie. Really bad.” He sighed. “I tried to talk to them, but I can’t do anything right in their eyes. I had to remove myself from it all. And my life’s been great ever since! I have other friends, and my station is great, and I- I love Tommy so much. I wanted you to be there when I married him, but. Well.”

“The others,” Maddie concluded.

“Yeah,” Buck agreed.

She slowly reached out to him, and he didn’t move away, so she stepped closer so she could hug him. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her.

“I want you to stay in contact. We can meet up outside, you can see Jee and Robert. You don’t have to see the others. Just- please, just stay.”

He nodded slowly. He wanted to say more. Like that he hated what she’d named her kid, the ghost she’d stuck on that poor boy. Like that he wasn’t sure he could ever forgive Chimney for all of this. Or Eddie or even Hen. But that would have to wait for another time. If Maddie stuck to her word, he could keep her in his life. Only differently than he’d planned.

Maddie returned to Chim, and Buck to Tommy. Ravi had already driven off with the promise of swinging by later with May for dinner, Tommy relayed as he opened his arms for Buck to just walk into.

He settled into Tommy, face in his throat and hands digging into the fabric of his shirt. And Tommy said nothing more, only held him tighter, rocking him slightly from left to right. Buck couldn’t put into words how good it felt to be held up like this. For a moment, he could just let himself fall, knowing that Tommy would keep him upright.

“Let’s get home,” Tommy murmured against Buck’s ear.

“Just a minute,” Buck said back, words muffled against Tommy’s shoulder. He wanted to soak up his husband’s warmth for a bit longer.

“Okay,” came the gentle reply. “Take as long as you need, Evan. We have all the time in the world.”

And they did, didn’t they. They had now and all of forever, and Buck knew that no matter what, no matter what happened and what things he chose, Tommy would be by his side, standing by him. And Buck could and would do the same for Tommy. They would never be alone again.

Perhaps one day in the future, he’d be ready to open up to the 118 again. Perhaps, he’d be ready to rebuild. But right now, he could not find it in himself to even want that. It had been a hard loss, but it had been a process, so at this point, Buck didn’t even really feel like he’d lost all that much. He’d gained more.

Other friends. Other opportunities. The memory of the people he loved. A husband who loved him truly and unconditionally. He couldn’t regret it, not with all of that.

It ended like this:

Ravi left the 118 as well. After the talk with Maddie, Chim apparently had a field day cursing Buck out at the station. And Ravi had finally had enough, put in a transfer, and reported the 118 to the department, leaving Chimney and the rest under investigation. Buck was sure Chim would find a way to blame him for it. But Buck did not care what was happening with his old station.

He was Lieutenant at the 122. His captain was slowly but steadily leading and guiding him on a path for bigger things. He was married to the first man he’d fallen in love with. His best friend was at a different station but they made time, and it wasn’t the person Buck would have thought only a year ago. He spoke to his sister, but things were a bit more strained these days. Some of these things were hard to get used to. Some of them were not.

But it was good. Maybe things would change more in the future, maybe they wouldn’t. But Buck wasn’t going to force anything. He and Tommy, they were taking these things one day at a time. One day at a time, together, for the rest of their lives.

Perhaps it didn’t end at all. Perhaps it had only just began.