Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He could have had millions of dollars in the bank right now, but all he’d wanted was his job back. He wanted to return to his family, to his purpose. He’d thought, in the end, they’d see that. 

He understood why they’d been angry when he’d approached them at the grocery store. He hadn’t expected it, but he’d spent the whole drive home thinking about why they couldn’t see his side and eventually he’d thought he got it. Eddie had said he only saw his own side; which, he guessed, was true. He’d been so caught up in the injury, then getting dumped, then physical therapy, and then the embolism, and then the tsunami, and then discovering Bobby was the one keeping him off the job…that he never had a chance to really breathe because the hits just kept coming. 

Finding out that it had been Bobby, of all people, who was holding him back had felt like the ultimate rejection. 

Bobby, who Buck had long thought of as a sort of father. Who he loved, and who he had thought loved him — if not like a son, then at least something close to it. 

Or, maybe he loved him exactly like a son. After all, Buck’s own father couldn’t stand him, so it stood to reason that his father figure would eventually tire of him as well. 

When he’d gone to Mackey to file the lawsuit, he hadn’t been thinking of Eddie, or of Christopher, or Hen or Chim. Not exactly. He’d been thinking of what it would take to get back to them, but not of how they’d feel caught in the middle of the battle. 

And he’d never expected Mackey to go at them the way he did during the arbitration. 

Still, Eddie was right. Buck hadn’t been thinking of anything but what he needed. So he’d tried, that whole drive home and for hours after, to think about everything from their sides. 

How Eddie had just lost his wife, and nearly lost his son, and then was forced to stop speaking to his best friend. 

How Christopher lost his mom and went through a natural disaster and then suddenly couldn’t be around the person who’d gone through it with him. Christopher, who loved him and was too young to understand why Buck had to stay away. 

Hen and Chimney and Maddie and Athena, who were all caught in the middle between Buck and Bobby and not wanting to pick sides but still taking friendly fire anyway. 

Because that’s what it was. Buck hadn’t meant to hurt any of them — okay, maybe he’d meant to hurt Bobby a little, if he was honest, but definitely not the others. He’d felt like he’d been fighting for his life for months, and this was just the latest, and hopefully last, battle before things went back to how they should be. 

He’d never considered that they would see this as him turning his back on them; fighting them.

Even then though, after the disaster that was the confrontation in the grocery store, Buck figured that him choosing them over accepting millions in a settlement would go a little way towards cooling their anger with him. 

His first day back to work had proven just how little that meant to them in the scheme of things. 

There were no warm greetings, no banners or party the way there had been when Chim came back after the rebar.

Instead, there were only hushed whispers and eyes that wouldn’t quite meet his, and behind it all was Eddie’s anger and Bobby’s stony face. 

It was as if the lawsuit had erased everything that came before it. Not just the bomb and the ladder truck, but the friendships that he’d formed and the family that had evolved from them.

Returning home after that first shift back to work, Buck was tired in a way that wasn’t physical, but was soul-deep. Which is why he felt he could be forgiven for not recognizing the woman standing on his doorstep until she’d reintroduced herself. 

“Amelia Wallace,” she didn’t seem offended, at least, when Buck asked who she was, “It’s been a few years.”

“Amelia…” Buck’s brows scrunched down as he searched his mind, before it finally clicked, “Right! From Coronado!” 

They’d met at a party and hooked up after. Got along well enough that it became a regular thing for a few weeks, though it’d never turned romantic. More a sorta-friends-with-benefits arrangement. 

She looked a little older now than she had then, but still had the same long black hair, heart-shaped face, full lips, and long elegant neck that Buck remembered. She was shifting awkwardly from foot to food and gently pulling at her own fingers: nervous. 

“That’s me,” she gave a little smile, causing one dimple to appear at the corner of her cheek. “Listen, can we get a coffee? I need to talk to you about something.” 

Buck glanced at his door and thought about what lay behind it: a lonely evening on his couch, going endlessly over everything that happened recently and how he could have done better; what he could do tomorrow to make things right. 

“Uh, sure,” Buck nodded, “Yeah. There’s, uh—there’s a great little cafe just down the road.” 

***

“Say that again?” 

Amelia took a breath, and Buck could see that she was struggling — that this was difficult for her. He knew normally that would mean something to him. He should be offering her comfort, or…or something. He didn’t even know. 

Right now, he didn’t know anything. His brain was one giant white noise machine: just stuck on static. Nothing was being processed. 

“Five years ago, in Coronado. You’d just dropped out of BUD/S. I’d just flunked my first college class. We comforted each other. You left. I found out I was pregnant.” 

Her words were more blunt this time around, but that didn’t help them penetrate the static in his mind. 

“By the time I found out, I didn’t know how to find you. I thought I could do it alone. I was wrong.” 

Her eyes were dry, but Buck could hear the tears in her voice. 

“How,” he swallowed, trying to force himself to think , to understand. Nothing made sense. “How did you find me now then?” 

She ran a hand through thick hair, brushing it out of her face, “That firetruck bombing was on the news across the whole state. They kept your name out of it, but I recognized you in the footage.”

That was months ago. A whole lifetime ago in so many ways. 

Buck stared at Amelia, unable to form more words. Not sure what needed to be asked or discussed. 

She continued speaking, filling the silence with more information that he wasn’t processing. “I knew you’d been hurt badly. I tried to wait, to let you heal before I approached you. But I just…I couldn’t wait any more.” 

“So you, uh,” he licked his lips, “you tracked me down after five years to tell me I have a kid?” 

God. He was a dad.

“I tracked you down to give you a choice. I couldn’t give it to you five years ago, but I’m giving it to you now. You can take her, or you can sign away your parental rights.” 

Buck blinked, gobsmacked. 

“What?” 

Amelia took a moment to gather herself, fiddling with the coffee on the table in front of her. Around them, other patrons of the cafe were talking, laughing. Noises were coming from the kitchen. A car alarm was going off on the street. 

Nothing in the world made sense. 

Buck was a dad. 

“You’re on the birth certificate. I wasn’t sure how to find you, or if I even wanted to. Not back then. But I figured, someday, maybe Sabrina would want to track you down, and I wanted to make that as easy for her as I could.” 

Sabrina. A girl’s name. 

A daughter. 

Amelia looked away, her gaze going far off, “I thought things would be different. I thought I’d be there when that day came, and I’d tell her what I remembered about you and I’d help her look. I had this whole idea of it in my head, of how she’d be upset but understanding. How we’d talk about it, because I imagined we’d talk about everything. I thought I’d be a good mom and we’d be connected. I thought I’d love her.” 

The words had turned into a whisper at the end, but Buck heard that, and it snapped his mind into focus. 

“You thought you’d love her? As in—” He couldn’t even say it. 

Amelia turned back to Buck, and something about her had shifted. She’d started the conversation so matter-of-fact. Bossy, almost, in that way Buck remembered finding charming back when he knew her. Now the confident demeanor was slipping and a vulnerability was visible that was begging Buck to understand. 

“No, I love her. I do. I just…” the tears Buck had heard in her voice before finally made it to her eyes, but they didn’t fall, “I didn’t expect it to be like this. She was such a good baby. She was happy and outgoing. I was happy, for a while. I thought, I can do this. Then she started walking and everything just…got so much harder. She never stops. She never seems to sleep. She is always talking; even in a room by herself. She doesn’t listen, never does what she’s told. She’s four years old and still wets herself. She’d follow a complete stranger home if they caught her interest for half a second. I can barely get her to eat. I have to watch her constantly or she’ll get into everything. I just…I’m exhausted. She’s exhausting.”

Buck’s mind stuttered at hearing that word again, this time directed at his child. Exhausting. Apparently, that was an Evan Buckley curse, passed down from father to daughter. 

“I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t. So you can take her, if you want her. But you have to be sure, because I don’t want you to take her just to give her up too. I don’t want to do that to her. I do want the best for her. I really do. So if you can’t do it, it’s fine. My mom has already agreed that she’ll take her. She won’t go into foster care or anything. So, really, it’s your choice.” 

Amelia had been speaking faster and faster, as if the words had been building for a long time and had finally come bursting out of her. 

It was his choice. 

His choice if he wanted to take custody of the daughter that he never knew about. A child being abandoned by her mother for being too difficult . Too hyper, too unruly, too unwilling to listen. 

Buck had heard all those things before, from another mother who found herself unable to love her child. 

It was really no choice at all. 

“I-I’ll take her. I want her,” Buck said it fiercely, and Amelia flinched and looked away, shame on her face. 

“I’d understand if you want to wait and get a paternity test-”

“No,” Buck cut her off. He knew he probably should. He should be doing research on this, at the least, but right now, after all that Amelia had just said, Buck didn’t care. Something inside him, something that felt an awful lot like a lonely little boy just wanting to be loved, was screaming for him to find this child and wrap his arms around her and never let go. “No, I-uh, I’m on the birth certificate, right? That’s enough.”

Amelia nodded, hesitant, then reached for her phone and scrolled through it for a moment before turning it to face Buck. “This is Sabrina.”

The phone had an image pulled up of a little girl in a bright pink shirt with a tiny tiara on her head. She had dark brown shoulder-length hair in a riot of curls, a face full of freckles, and brown eyes so dark that they were almost black. Her shoulders were hunched up around her ears and her chin tucked against her chest as she giggled, deep dimples evident on both cheeks. 

His daughter. 

***

Walking into the fire house the next morning felt surreal. He felt simultaneously too light, and too heavy. Disconnected from his body in a way he didn’t think he’d ever been before. 

Which is exactly how he ended up walking right into the doorframe outside the locker room. 

A snort came from inside, and Buck looked up expecting a fond eye-roll and joke. 

He got the eye-roll, but it was decidedly less fond than it would have been a few months ago. 

“Morning,” Buck tried, correcting his steps and moving toward his locker to change. 

Eddie gave a cold nod, then turned and exited the room; still buttoning his shirt as he went. 

Buck closed his eyes and made himself count to ten. He could do this. They were upset and he understood. Hen had told him during shift yesterday that everyone just needed time and Buck had been determined that he would give them that. 

But that was before Buck had found out that he had a daughter. A little girl who he’d be taking custody of sometime in the next few weeks — as soon as they could work out the legalities and Buck could find a new place to live since a one bedroom loft wasn’t going to cut it. 

He wanted to give his little girl everything. Wanted to surround her with family and laughter, with people who’d accept and love her no matter what. 

Determination settled into his shoulders and Buck quickly changed into his uniform before heading upstairs. 

The rest of the 118 was just sitting down to their start-of-shift breakfast, joking and smiling. Clearly in a great mood.

Right up until Buck slid into his seat and the laughter fizzled out. 

Nothing for it, but to push forward. 

“Bobby, I–uh–” Buck started, but he wasn’t sure exactly how to say it. ‘ I just learned that I’m a father and I’m hoping that you guys will be there to support me.’ Or maybe, ‘There was a woman on my doorstep last night who just informed me that I’m a dad and I could really use some advice.’ Whatever he was going to say, he didn't have the chance before Bobby cut in. 

“You’re man behind again today, end of discussion.” 

His tone was professional. Polite, even. The kind of tone you’d use with a waiter at a restaurant or a stranger who asked you to grab something off a high shelf for them. 

Buck’s courage left him and he glanced down at his plate, shoulders dropping. “Okay. Right.” 

Breakfast was mostly quiet after that, with variations of “please pass the bacon,” and “thank you” dropped here and there. Perfectly polite. Perfectly professional. 

Cold. 

The way family meals growing up had been coldly polite; full of people who lived together and ate together, but didn’t share a life. Didn’t share affection. 

The bell ringing was a relief, even though his heart ached to see the team run downstairs to gear up without him. 

Two hours later, breakfast had been packed away, the dishes done and the station cleaned, but the crew still wasn’t back. 

There wasn’t much to do this early in a shift, since B-shift had left things pretty much in order. Buck started a load of laundry and then moved to the couch and pulled out his phone, opening up the spreadsheet he had started the night before of everything he needed to get done before officially taking custody of his daughter. 

He needed to contact the realtor that Ali had introduced him to when they found him the loft. Hopefully, she’d be able to help him find a new place, with two bedrooms, that was close to work and in a good school district. 

Which also meant that he’d have to start researching preschools in the area. Amelia said Sabrina hadn’t started yet, but she was four and Buck thought that was the age most kids started. He didn’t want his daughter to be behind or left out. 

He’d also need a nanny who could look after Sabrina when he was on shift. Someone who could stay with her overnights. Carla was his first thought, but she was overqualified and Buck wasn’t sure Eddie would want her watching Buck’s daughter and Christopher at the same time anyway. Not now, when he still hadn’t forgiven Buck. Which meant he’d need to research nanny agencies. 

He needed to get boxes and start packing up his own stuff. Which also meant deciding what to keep and what needed to go. His current furniture was nice, but it didn’t really scream of a loving, welcoming home for a little girl to come into. He wanted his house to be warm, in the way his own childhood home had never been. The kind of place where it was okay if a child got into everything, or made a mess, or accidentally broke something, because nothing was so important as to be kept away from little hands. 

Eddie’s house — with its organized clutter and comfortable plush seating and photos on every surface — flashed in Buck’s mind and he smiled. 

Eddie was exactly the kind of dad that Buck hoped to be: patient and warm and loving with his kid. Always willing to listen to Christopher and talk through anything that came up. Always going out of his way to make sure Christopher knew exactly how much he was loved. 

Buck frowned at his phone as Eddie’s words from the grocery store echoed through his mind again. Buck was exhausting. 

He’d always known that. The fact that he was hard to love was the first lesson he had ever learned. He was too much, all the time. He felt too much, his reactions were too big. 

Even now, when the whole team had made it clear that they needed time and space from Buck, all Buck was thinking about was himself. How much he wanted to tell them about his daughter and get their help and support. Have Bobby and Eddie and Hen share the wisdom of their experience with parenthood. Have Chimney give him a list of movies or jokes he could use to connect with a little girl that he’d unknowingly abandoned. 

I’m exhausted. She’s exhausting.

The same words, in another voice, gave Buck pause. 

Eddie hadn’t even known him for two years and he was already overwhelmed with just how MUCH Buck was, all the time. Bobby had lasted a little longer, making it nearly three years before he started pushing Buck away. Hen and Chim hadn’t quite gotten there yet, but Buck had seen the frustration on their faces too. 

He understood it. He knew what he was. 

Logically, Buck knew that they’d never feel that way about a child. They would never take their irritation with Buck out on his daughter. 

But was it even fair to drop this on them now, when he’d already been making everything about himself for months and he’d hurt them all so badly? Was it fair to Sabrina? She already had one person who was overwhelmed by her. What would really happen if he dropped her in the middle of a group who were already so frustrated by her dad? What if she could sense that from them and believed it was directed at her? 

Buck couldn’t do it, to any of them. 

Which meant he needed to suck it up, deal with his insecurities, and figure everything out on his own. 

Chapter Text

Two days. 

Buck had been given two days between finding out that he had a daughter and meeting her for the first time. 

He’d spent his whole last shift (thankfully just 12 hours) in a daze. He didn’t talk to anyone, just accepted his fate as man-behind, turned on one of the new parenting podcasts he’d found, stuck his headphones in, and kept his head down as he worked. The day passed with him alternating between stress cleaning and working out. 

At one point, Hen had approached him and asked if something was wrong, Chimney hovering behind her, but Buck just shrugged and went back to scrubbing down the ambulance. They didn’t need him dragging them into his personal situations again, so Buck made sure to avoid them for the remainder of the day. It was depressingly easy, given the distance that had built between them all over the last few months.

Bobby and Eddie gave him a few looks during the shift, but neither of them approached or said anything.  Buck made sure that his work was done quickly and done well, so that there was nothing they could comment on. 

Now the time had finally come to meet Sabrina and he wished that he’d insisted on meeting her the very first day he found out about her. Rather than giving him time to process the situation and game plan, his brain had decided to use those two days to spin out on all the ways this could go wrong. 

What if he was a bad father? 

What if he was impatient and cold, the way his own father had been? Or worse, what if he was too selfish and self-involved to give his daughter the love and attention she deserved? Eddie’s words rang through his ears over and over: saying that he only ever saw his own side. That definitely implied at least self-involvement, if not outright selfishness, and Eddie was rarely wrong. But he had to try, didn’t he? He couldn’t leave her with a mother who’d already admitted that she couldn’t love her the way Buck knew, even without meeting her, that Sabrina deserved to be loved.

Buck pulled open the door to the same cafe where he’d first learned about Sabrina’s existence. 

Amelia was sitting in a booth near the back, facing the door. Across from her, Buck could barely see the top of a dark head of curls. 

He pulled his courage together. He was meeting his daughter. He wouldn’t let his own insecurities interfere. Not today. 

“Sabrina, baby,” Amelia tried to get the little girl’s attention as Buck reached their booth. 

It was barely noon, but Amelia already looked tired. She was keeping her tone soothing, but Buck could tell that it was that false soothing tone that hid frustration behind it. 

He wondered if his daughter could too. 

Sabrina didn’t look up from the sketch book that she was coloring in. She had filled nearly the whole page with bright yellow, and was drawing shapes over the yellow in various colors. 

Buck leaned closer, getting a better look and smiled as Sabrina focused intently on what she was doing, ignoring the world around her. 

“I love the colors,” Buck tried. 

His smile widened as that caught Sabrina’s attention and she looked up at him, scrutinizing. Her eyes were just as dark in person as they’d been in the photo that Amelia had shown him, but the freckles on her pale skin were even more pronounced now. They were darkest around her nose and cheeks, but there was a smattering of light freckles across her forehead and chin, even on the tips of her ears. 

“Sabrina, put the book away for now. I want to introduce you to someone,” Amelia reached out and began gathering crayons, but Sabrina quickly pulled the sketchbook into her lap, her tiny hands grabbing up whatever crayons she could before her mother could get to them. “Sabrina!” 

Amelia sounded exasperated, and Buck had a sudden flash of his own mother and how she would say “Evan!” in nearly the same tone of voice.

“What’s your favorite color?” Sabrina directed this to Buck, not reacting to her mother beyond trying to protect her art supplies. 

Buck glanced at Amelia, who sighed and started stuffing crayons back into a green and white pencil box that they’d obviously come out of. 

“I think my favorite color changes a lot,” Buck answered seriously, turning back to the little girl, “but I love anything pretty and bright.” 

Sabrina nodded, equally serious. She flipped through her sketchbook until she landed on a drawing that looked vaguely like an orange butterfly, with purple and blue spots on the wings and what might have been pink grass, if Buck had to guess. She ripped it out and handed it to Buck. 

“You can have it.” 

Buck took the drawing, tears inexplicably coming into his eyes. He held it like it was priceless, because it was. This little drawing was suddenly the most important thing that Buck had ever owned. 

“I’m Sabrina. Are you Momma’s boyfriend?” 

Buck looked back up at his daughter, surprised, but Amelia answered before he could respond. 

“No, baby, he’s not my boyfriend. This man is the man I told you about, remember? He’s your Daddy.”

Sabrina frowned, “So…he WAS your boyfriend.” She said it stubbornly, as if waiting to be argued with when she knew, in that child-way where everything was a concrete fact, that she was right. 

“I knew your mom a long time ago,” Buck jumped in, sliding into the seat beside Amelia and facing his daughter, “before you were born.” 

“I know,” Sabrina replied, but she looked confused and unwilling to admit it. She fidgeted with the crayons she had managed to save. 

“I, uh, I moved away before I knew that your mommy was having a baby, and she didn’t know how to find me til now.” Buck wasn’t sure what Amelia had told Sabrina yet. If his daughter knew that she’d eventually be coming to live with him. If she knew why. 

“I know,” Sabrina said again, this time with less patience. 

Amelia looked at Buck, and Buck could feel her thinking the word exhausting again. Buck ignored her. 

“Now that I know about you, I really really wanted to meet you,” Buck placed his drawing safely at the edge of the table and leaned forward, meeting his daughter’s eyes so she could see that he was sincere. 

Sabrina looked at him, seeming to weigh him. Buck wished he had any idea what she was thinking. He didn’t know this little girl, or how she thought, and that hurt him. She was a full little person already and Buck had missed it. He hadn’t been there for first words, or discovering favorite movies, or learning to pick out her own clothes. He hadn’t been there to see her develop and become the tiny person she was. 

“Momma says…” She fidgeted in her seat, pulling her legs up and underneath her so she was higher in the booth and leaning on the table. “Mama says you’re a fireman.” 

The statement felt like an offering and Buck jumped at it. “I am, yeah.”

He ignored the voice in his head (which sounded exactly like Hen) muttering about misogynistic stereotypes that all firefighters are men. There would come a time to correct the outdated term “fireman”, but he figured Hen could forgive him for waiting to address that til after he knew his little girl a bit better. 

“Momma, I need the phone,” Sabrina finally turned her attention to her mother, holding out a hand imperiously, but Amelia shook her head. 

“We aren’t playing on the phone right now, we are talking to your daddy.” 

Sabrina’s face scrunched up, grumpy and stubborn, “I NEED it. I need it to show him something!”

“Sabrina,” Amelia started, but Buck had already pulled out his own phone and handed it to the little girl. 

He knew that he couldn’t do this all the time: couldn’t play good cop and give in to Sabrina’s every whim, as much as he might want to. But this was the first time meeting her, and they didn’t know how to talk to each other yet. If showing him something on the phone helped, Buck didn’t see the harm. 

He watched as Sabrina scrolled through the phone until she found the app for YouTube. She skillfully pulled it up and went to his “subscriptions” tab, but frowned when it obviously didn’t contain the same users as she was used to. 

“What are you looking for?” 

“The white and grey one with the blue in the middle,” Sabrina pointed at the user icons and Buck looked to Amelia for guidance. 

Amelia gave in, pulling her own phone from her pocket and handing it to their daughter. Sabrina abandoned Buck’s phone and took her mothers, pulling up YouTube again and quickly finding the user she’d wanted, then scrolling through their videos until she found the one she was looking for and hitting play. She handed the phone to Buck. 

Buck watched as, on the screen, a fire extinguisher was slowly compacted by a hydraulic press until it exploded and white foam sprayed everywhere. Sabrina cheered and laughed and Buck grinned at her. 

Her whole body scrunched in on itself as she laughed, hands clasping together against her chest and shoulders going up just like in the photo he’d seen of her. It was adorable. 

“That’s pretty cool,” he laughed at his daughter’s self-satisfied expression. 

“They smoosh lots of stuff! I’ll show you! Look!” She snatched the phone back and scrolled through to another video, hitting play again, and this time Buck used the excuse to switch to her side of the booth so they could watch the screen together. 

They spent the next hour watching various videos on the phone and picking at the food they had eventually ordered. Amelia had made another attempt to get the phone back when the food had arrived, but Buck had just handed it back to her and then pulled his own back out to start following the users that his daughter seemed to prefer; then they were off again. 

The rabbit hole led them from the hydraulic press videos, to videos that went into detail about how everyday items were made, then somehow ended up on caring for Mystery Snails and watching their egg clutches hatch. 

Buck could have stayed there all day, just watching videos and listening to this perfect little girl giggle and chime in with the occasional (and often inaccurate) fact about whatever they were watching. There was a part of him, a large part, that wanted to just sweep Sabrina up and take her home with him immediately. 

He wasn’t ready for that yet though, and he knew it. 

He had to do this right, and there were still so many items on his checklist that needed completed before he brought his daughter home for good. So it was with great reluctance that Buck said goodbye to Sabrina after lunch. 

“We’ll see each other again soon,” Buck promised, gently holding the drawing she had given him and rolling on his feet in his effort to hold himself back from hugging the girl. He was still a stranger to her. 

“Okay,” Sabrina said vaguely, clearly no longer paying attention to Buck as she stuffed her sketchbook and pencil box of crayons into a small backpack beside her. 

“I’ve spoken with a lawyer,” Amelia said softly, slipping out of the booth to stand beside the table next to Buck. “He’s putting together some paperwork, but he said everything should be ready to review and sign by early next week.” 

Buck blinked, surprised, “That soon?”

Today was Tuesday, which meant he had maybe one week to accomplish everything on his list. He was maybe panicking, a little, at the prospect of all that he needed to get done before then. 

He could hire movers to pack, move, and unpack his stuff, once he found a place. That would speed up the process. 

That money the city had offered to settle the lawsuit taunted him. 

Would he have made a different choice, if he had found out about his daughter sooner? 

He didn’t think so, no matter how much easier it would have made this transition. Being a firefighter still meant too much to him, and Sabrina had been so excited when she’d asked him about his job. 

“Unless you’re having second thoughts?” 

Buck had to remind himself that Amelia was asking because she was trying to make sure their daughter ended up in the kind of stable and loving home that she found herself unequipped to provide. Still, the idea that anyone would think, even for a moment, that Buck could be anything but more sure of his choice after meeting Sabrina made his heart hurt. 

“No. No second thoughts. Just, uh, just a lot of stuff to figure out. I wanna have everything ready for her.” 

Amelia had told Buck that they’d come down from Coronado with nothing but a single suitcase of clothes each and a handful of toys. They were staying in a hotel now, until Buck could officially take custody. Amelia would be shipping Sabrina’s clothing and her favorite toys to Buck once she made it back home, but that would be a few weeks and there was so much that Sabrina would need before that, including all new furniture and bedding and more toys and probably some books…

“I’m going with Momma,” Sabrina’s voice broke through Buck’s panic induced inventory. “But I…I’ll see you soon.” She repeated his earlier words back to him, as if reassuring him and it was the sweetest thing Buck had ever seen. 

He knelt down in front of Sabrina, who’d just climbed out of the booth and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Seeing her standing, she was tall for her age. She’d definitely inherited Buck’s long legs. 

“You absolutely will,” Buck smiled. “Really soon.” 

Sabrina continued to look at him, grasping tight to her backpack straps and squirming in place a bit. Buck worried that she was more overwhelmed than she’d let on. 

Finally, she said a quick, “Okay. Bye!” and took a rushed step forward to give him a fast hug before shying away to her mom’s side in the first sign of uncertainty that Buck had seen from her so far. 

“Bye bye,” Buck whispered, smiling at her as his heart swelled.

***

Buck was sitting on the couch at the station during his next shift, looking up options for nannies, when Chimney plopped down in the seat next to him. 

“Do me a favor,” Chimney reached out and bumped Buck’s shoulder, “Call your sister. Maddie says she hasn’t heard from you since you got back to work and she’s starting to take it personally.” 

She and Chimney had just started dating again after everything with Doug had put them temporarily on hold. Buck knew he was avoiding his sister — he’d left her last few check-in texts on read — but he didn’t know how to navigate telling her about his daughter without also telling Chimney and he didn’t want to force her to keep secrets. 

It was easier if he just didn’t say anything. He’d hoped she was busy enough with her new relationship not to notice. 

“You can tell her I’m fine,” Buck placed his phone face-down against his leg. 

“I have. Now she needs to hear it from you.” 

Buck rolled his eyes and flipped his phone back around, quickly pulling up Maddie’s contact and shooting a text. 

Buck: I’m fine. Call off your boyfriend.

He had barely looked up at Chimney with a “Done,” when Maddie started sending a stream of texts back to him. 

Maddie: You’ve been quiet lately. 

Maddie: Are you really okay?

Maddie: How is everything at the firehouse? 

Maddie: Chimney says Bobby’s been keeping you as man-behind?

Buck turned his phone to face Chimney, “See what you started?”

Laughing, Chimney held both hands up in a sign of surrender, “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. If you’d talked to her at all lately, she wouldn’t be blasting you now.” 

Message delivered, Chimney stood back up and wandered over to where Bobby was cooking lunch. 

Buck hadn’t cooked with Bobby since before the lawsuit. The two times he’d wandered into the kitchen when Bobby was cooking, he’d been informed that he was in the way—in that kindly mid-western way that Bobby had which still left Buck feeling about 2 inches tall. He hadn’t tried again after that. It took him a while sometimes, but Buck could eventually take a hint. 

He looked back at his phone and sighed. He’d have to figure something to tell Maddie that wasn’t a lie, but wasn’t anything that he’d have to ask her to keep from anyone else either. 

Buck: Yeah, I’ve been man-behind a lot. But it’s all good. I’m exercising a lot and am feeling stronger than ever.

Maddie: Don’t push yourself too hard. Last thing we want is for you to get another embolism.

His sister was coming from a place of love, not rebuke. Buck knew that. It didn’t change the fact that the words felt like an arrow to the heart; like he’d disappointed her and everyone else again. 

Buck: I’m paying attention. And the last one wasn’t my fault.

His doctor had explained that it was the metal in his leg, not the training, that had been at fault, but Buck wasn’t sure anyone else had really processed that information after the scare. Or maybe it was just easier to blame him than to worry about him. 

Maddie: I know that. I just don’t want to see you hurt again. 

For a second, Buck tried to imagine what he would feel if Sabrina ever got hurt. He couldn’t do it. Just the thought was too painful. 

Maddie had basically raised him. Their parents were never present, even when they were there, and Buck didn’t remember a time in his childhood when it wasn’t him and Maddie against the world. They’d grown up and Maddie had left, but he knew that they’d always loved each other fiercely and always would. 

She didn’t mean for her words to hurt him, or to place blame on him. It was his hangup that they hurt anyway. That didn’t stop him from wanting to reassure her. 

Buck: I’m being careful, I promise.

Maddie: That’s all I ask.

Buck exited the text thread and went back to his browser, where the substack of nanny recommendations in the Los Angeles area was still open. 

There was another reason that he couldn’t tell Maddie, or anyone else, about Sabrina. If they didn’t trust him to take care of himself, would they ever trust him to take care of a child? What if they said the wrong thing to the wrong person? Buck wasn’t sure how it would affect the change in custody that Amelia was working on getting in order for them. 

***

“It doesn’t meet all the criteria you gave me, but if you’re willing to compromise, I think this could be a good fit.” 

They pulled up in front of the latest house in a list of showings that Buck had been to today with his realtor, Mrs Brooks. This one was white, with a fire engine red front door. There was a driveway leading to a single car garage on the right and a tree surrounded by decorative stones just in front of a large window on the left side of the house. 

“No yard,” Buck grumbled, looking at the flyer the realtor had given him for the house. 

He’d really wanted a yard where Sabrina could play. Where he could put in a swingset and maybe, someday, invite family and friends over for outdoor meals like they used to have at Bobby’s house. 

“No yard,” she confirmed, “but there is a park about a block and a half around the corner there and down the street. It’s got an all abilities playground on one side and a fenced dog run on the other.” 

Buck hadn’t considered the possibility of a dog. He’d always wanted one, growing up, but his parents had always said no. He definitely had too much going on at the moment, but maybe in a few years…the fact that he was a father and would be raising his daughter for years hit him again and Buck smiled to himself.

Mrs Brooks slipped out of the car and headed to the door of the house, “And the house is in one of your preferred neighborhoods,” she said as Buck caught up with her.

Buck had spent hours researching schools in Los Angeles and had sent a list of neighborhoods to the realtor that were both in good school districts and close to the firehouse. He’d color coded the list based on the school rankings and affordability of the area. 

When Mrs Brooks opened the door, Buck held his breath. The last few houses had technically met his criteria, but they hadn’t felt quite right. Buck wasn’t sure why, he only knew that he’d know the place when he found it and with each house he sent up a little wish to the universe that this would be it. 

He didn’t have long and he needed something immediately. A fact that was also detailed in the very long email that Buck had sent to his realtor a few days prior. 

The entryway of the house opened into a living room with warm olive walls and light brown hardwood flooring. The front rooms were open concept and past the living room, Buck could see a modern kitchen and small dining area. 

“It’s two bedrooms and two baths, though the bathroom in the primary bedroom only has a shower. But…” She led him down the hallway and opened the first door to a large bathroom, “The hall bathroom has a jacuzzi tub.” 

The tub was massive. Large enough for even a man of Buck’s size to lay down and relax, and the idea of jet sprays in a warm tub after a hard day was definitely appealing. 

Across the hall bathroom was a closet that had linen shelving on one side and a stacked washer and dryer on the other. The bedrooms were further down the hallway, both decent sized with large windows looking into a back patio area behind the house. There was a privacy fence beyond the patio that blocked any view of the neighbors. 

A set of double french doors opened from the primary bedroom to the back cobblestone patio, which was just large enough for a breakfast table and chairs and had a small storage shed in the far corner.

“Perfect for storing holiday decorations,” according to Mrs Brooks. 

Buck turned and walked back through the primary bedroom to the second room: the one that would belong to Sabrina if they lived here. The room had pale yellow walls and the same wooden flooring as the rest of the house. Buck figured he’d be needing to add rugs to his list of purchases needed. There was a small closet with white sliding doors that someone had painted a pink flower onto the top corner of. 

He could picture her in this room, playing in the sunlight filtering in from the window. 

“It’s perfect.” 

Mrs Brooks smiled.

Chapter Text

The week went by so quickly that Buck was left in a permanent daze, marveling that he’d accomplished as much as he had and despairing that there was still so much that he hadn’t gotten to. 

He’d barely slept over the course of the week, and for once Buck thought that being man-behind was a blessing. He’d been able to use his time on shift to research nanny agencies and day cares, since he’d learned that it was too late in the year to enroll Sabrina in pre-school. 

He’d added Sabrina to the waitlist for the pre-school near the station and gotten the ball rolling on day-care applications, as well as interviewed some nannies over the phone, shopped online for most everything that he needed for the house, and started research on helping a child through major life transitions. 

During his days off, he’d gone through his loft and directed the movers on what to pack and move into the new house, as well as what was being donated. 

He was keeping more than he’d expected, but did decide to replace the matching leather sofa and armchair from his living room with a more durable and comfortable medium gray sectional that he’d found at a second hand shop. 

The movers had helped speed things along by unpacking most of the utilitarian items around the house, like kitchen supplies and the tv and stereo; but all the personal or decorative items were still in boxes stacked along the wall in the living room and in Buck’s bedroom. 

Most importantly, Buck had managed to meet up with Sabrina twice more between shifts over the week. Once was at the park around the corner from the new house, where he had spent an hour or so pushing her on the swing while Amelia watched from a park bench close by. The second visit had been a little longer and Buck had gotten to spend a full afternoon with his daughter, just the two of them, for the first time. 

He had taken them to a hands-on children’s museum where they had created a mobile of the solar system. There were nine styrofoam balls (eight planets and the sun, which had Buck mourning for the exclusion of Pluto), string, and a soft wooden set of cut outs that the planets would hang from. 

Sabrina was in charge of coloring the planets, while Buck was assisting by connecting the finished products to the mobile with the string and hot glue. 

He had just finished connecting the bright yellow and orange sun to the center of the mobile and held it up for Sabrina’s approval when Sabrina had beamed and responded with “Good job, Daddy.” 

Buck had frozen in place as his heart raced and his mind went to static. 

She had called him Daddy. 

It was the first time, and he probably would have continued standing there in shocked euphoria, if she hadn’t dropped one of the markers she was using to decorate Venus. The marker rolled across the floor and jump-started Buck back into the moment as he rushed to collect it for her. 

That moment had been the highlight of his life, and the day had only got better when Amelia informed him that afternoon that her lawyer had called.

Their paperwork was ready. 

Buck had to call out from work the next day in order to meet with Amelia and her lawyer. He was certain from Bobby’s tone of voice that the man hadn’t been pleased to receive the request for a personal day so soon after Buck had come back to work, but the shift change was approved with minimal questioning. 

After that, everything went unexpectedly easy. 

Because Buck was on Sabrina’s birth certificate, and because Amelia — who currently had sole custody — was the one initiating the change of custody and both parties were in full agreement, all that was required was some signatures on official paperwork. 

Amelia and Buck both signed the Stipulation and Order for Custody agreement, followed by Amelia signing a relinquishment of all parental rights. That document, the lawyer explained, meant that Ameilia would not be able to change her mind and fight for custody later. It also excluded her from visitation rights and ensured that Buck could never seek child support from her. 

Finally, Buck signed the paperwork that would change Sabrina’s legal name from Sabrina Quinn Wallace to Sabrina Quinn Buckley. 

Buck had hesitated over that one, not wanting to take that final connection to her mother away before Sabrina was old enough to make the decision herself. Ultimately, the lawyer had convinced him that it would be better both because it could prevent possible difficulties in school and healthcare settings, and for Sabrina’s own sense of belonging. 

After that, all that was left was to pick Sabrina up from the daycare downstairs from the lawyer’s office where she’d been left to play while they were in the meeting. Amelia and Sabrina were returning to the hotel where they’d been staying for the past week and a half to pack and then would be driving back to Buck’s new house. 

Now, Buck was standing in his living room anxiously waiting for Amelia and Sabrina to arrive. 

He’d left a roast cooking in a crock pot while they were with the lawyer. He figured that the three of them would sit down to dinner and Buck and Amelia could gently explain that Sabrina was coming to live with him. 

He had spent almost every free moment since choosing to take custody of his daughter trying to come up with the right words to explain why her mother was leaving her with someone who was, essentially, still a stranger to her. 

As soon as the car pulled into his driveway, Buck knew that all plans for gently breaking the situation to her had gone out the window: he could hear Sabrina screaming and crying from all the way inside the house. 

Buck dashed outside to find Amelia kneeling beside the opened back passenger door of the car. She was reaching inside to undo the belt of the car seat, but Sabrina was scratching Amelia’s hands and pushing her away. 

“I won’t! I won’t! You can’t!” Sabrina was crying so hard that she was hiccuping with every breath. 

“Sabrina, it’s gonna be okay,” Amelia leaned back on her feet and pleaded with their daughter, “You’re going to have your daddy.” 

“No! You can’t go!” 

Sabrina’s voice held a desperation that stabbed Buck right through the heart. It was the kind of desperation that Buck had only ever heard from people pleading for their lives during rescues before. Hearing it now, from his little girl, pushed Buck into overdrive as everything inside him screamed to help, help, save . 

“This is happening, baby. You deserve better than I can give you, and your daddy loves you so much.” 

“I don’t care!” Sabrina leaned forward in her seat, coughing and shaking with the force of her sobs. 

Buck laid a hand on Amelia’s shoulder and gently moved her out of the way so he could slide into the back seat next to his daughter. 

“Hey now, I need you to take a breath for me,” He laid a hand on her back, terrified that she was about to hyperventilate. 

“No!” 

It was barely a coughed whisper, but said with as much force as she could put into the word. Sabrina’s hair and back were damp with sweat and her whole body was trembling. This was escalating into a full-blown panic attack. 

“Slow breath, Bri, baby. Come on. Just breathe with me.” He pulled her close in her seat, until her shoulder was touching his chest and she could feel as he took a deep breath in, held it, then released it.

She refused to mimic him, shaking her head roughly back and forth before taking a deep breath and holding it instead. Her face was already red and sweaty, and within moments her nose started bleeding. 

Buck turned to Amelia, “I need the kitchen shears from the knife rack above the fridge.” 

Amelia took off and Buck turned back to Sabrina. 

“Hey, come on now. Breathe!” Buck was having trouble keeping his own panic at bay.

Sabrina shook her head again, squeezing her eyes shut tight and reaching up to cover her ears. She kept her tiny body bent nearly in half, using her torso and legs to block the buckle to the straps keeping her secure in the car seat. 

Amelia came barrelling out of the house and handed Buck the shears. He quickly cut the belts on the car seat and pulled Sabrina out of the car. She let out a ragged breath at the movement and started sobbing again as Buck brought her inside and sat her down on the couch. 

He knelt in front of it to give her space, even though every instinct he had was screaming at him to pull her close to him in an attempt to comfort her.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” Buck tried to keep his voice calm and even. He glanced over his shoulder where Amelia was hovering, obviously unsure how to help. “Can you wet a wash cloth with cold water and bring it to me?” 

Sabrina pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. Her nose was still bleeding and the blood was running into her open mouth. She was still gasping and trying to breathe around both the sobs and the bloody nose and her shaking was getting worse. She buried her head in her arms and Buck immediately reached up and ran his hand through damp curls, gently guiding her head back up. 

“You’ve gotta keep your head up, sweetheart.” Buck’s heart broke and he wished he could have spared her from this pain.  

Sabrina gagged, coughing on the blood and Buck worried that she was going to vomit. 

When Amelia came back, she had both the washcloth and a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom. Buck tore off some of the toilet paper and wiped Sabrina’s nose, then placed the washcloth against the back of her neck. Amelia disappeared and reappeared again with a large salad bowl, which she settled on the couch beside Sabrina. 

Buck kept up a quiet stream of dialogue, mumbling nonsensical reassurance as he continued to wipe at her nose and hold the washcloth against her neck. 

It took a long while, but eventually Sabrina’s nose stopped bleeding, the sobs slowing and her breath evening out. When it did, Buck gathered her into his arms and held her through the trembling, whispering over and over that he was here and he loved her. He ran his hand up and down her back and rocked her slowly until she finally fell asleep, exhausted. 

“I thought we were going to tell her together?” The words slipped out, filled with Buck’s pain and helplessness.

Amelia had tears streaming down her cheeks and Buck winced in guilt at the accusation he knew she heard in his question.

“I thought…maybe it would be better coming from me. I could explain and be the bad guy, if she needed one.” 

Buck sighed and held Sabrina closer, not knowing what to say. This wasn’t how the news should have been broken and he hated that he hadn’t been there for it; hated that he didn’t even know what was said or what message Sabrina had taken from the conversation. 

“I should go.” 

Buck’s head snapped up, “What? No.” 

Buck stood up, still cradling Sabrina against his chest.

He knew that everything about this was hard on Amelia too. Not just watching Sabrina’s panic attack, but admitting to her own limitations as a mother and signing over custody. She was hiding it well, but Buck had heard the pain in her voice from the very beginning. 

And despite what she said about her difficulty connecting to and loving their daughter, she had been trying so hard to do what was best for Sabrina. Even this, mishandled as Buck felt it had been, she’d done out of an attempt to help Sabrina feel more comfortable with him. 

It was all that had kept him from resenting her. 

“Wait, just-just wait. Let me take her to her room and then we can talk.” 

He waited until she nodded, then moved down the hall to Sabrina’s room. 

This was the only room in the house that was mostly finished. 

He’d painted white polka dots in a pattern covering one of the pale yellow walls and added a new soft pink, furry, rug that now took up most of the bedroom floor. A low twin bed was set up length-wise against the polka dotted accent wall and covered in textured throw blankets and pillows in pastel pinks, greens, and purples. White bookshelves were placed on either side of the bedroom window, with a white cushioned bench in between them and purple storage baskets for toys underneath the seat. The window valance was a light blue patterned with cartoon style white clouds. 

There were some toys and books around the room already — because Buck hadn’t been able to resist while shopping — but most of the shelves were still empty and awaiting the personal items that Amelia would be shipping to them later. 

Overall, the room was cozy and colorful and as cheerful as Buck could make it. 

He’d wanted to surprise Sabrina with it. Use it as visible proof of how much Buck wanted her in his life and how much he loved her. 

He hoped that her first impression of the room wouldn’t be soured later, waking up to it for the first time after a panic attack at the news that her mother was leaving her. 

He gently laid her on the bed and pulled the blankets up around her. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry it hurts. But I love you so much,” He pushed dark curls away from her face and kissed her lightly on her freckled forehead.

Buck stood and watched her breathing for a few more seconds, comforting himself that she was safe and uninjured. 

She wasn’t okay though. He wasn’t sure if she could be again. 

The pain of being abandoned was such a constant in Buck’s life and it hurt to know that the same pain was going to haunt Sabrina’s life too. 

When he went back to the living room, he was unsurprised to find it empty.

He walked to the window and looked out, but the car was gone from the driveway. 

Of course. 

Buck gathered up the clumps of toilet paper that had been left on the floor beside the couch and tossed them in the trash, then went to the bathroom to return the rest of the roll to the holder and took a moment to wash his face. 

He wasn’t sure when he’d started crying. He’d kept tight control on his emotions while comforting Sabrina, but at some point after she had fallen asleep, that control must have slipped. 

He leaned against the bathroom counter, staring unseeing down at the sink for long moments until his phone chimed with a text. 

It was a voice recording from Amelia. 

Buck left the bathroom and walked down the hall to his bedroom, quietly closing the door so he could play it without risk of Sabrina overhearing. 

I’m sorry. Staying longer would have just given her false hope. It’s better that I’m gone when she wakes up. She has you now and you’ll take care of her, I know you will. I can see how much you love her already. There’s nothing I can do to make this easier for her and dragging it out would only hurt her worse. I’m sorry.

That was it. No more explanation. No message for Sabrina. No goodbye. 

Buck had never hated anyone in his life, but at that moment, with his daughter’s tears still wet on his shirt, Buck thought he might actually hate Amelia. 

***

Sabrina woke up crying again close to an hour later and Buck rushed into her room. 

He found her crouched beside her bed, trying to stuff her blankets underneath it. They were too bundled up, and the bed was too low, so they clearly were not going to fit; but Sabrina was shoving at them and grunting in frustration. 

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” 

Sabrina stood up straight and cried harder, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

The front of her pants were wet. 

“Oh no-no don’t worry about that,” Buck grabbed a new set of clothes out of the closet, “let’s get you cleaned up.” 

He’d wash the bedding later. 

Amelia had warned him that Sabrina still wet the bed, so there was a waterproof cover over the mattress. He’d even gotten her some pull ups, but that had been the last thing on his mind earlier. 

“I think it’s time for a bath, what do you think?” 

Sabrina didn’t budge.

“Where’s momma?”

Buck took a breath, then knelt in front of her. He set the clothes off to the side and pulled her into a hug. He tried to remember all the things he’d researched about explaining parental separation: Keep it simple, use concrete verbiage, reassure the child that you are here... 

None of that gave him the actual words or the strength to say them.  

“You’re mom–You’re mom’s not going to be around anymore.”

 “Did I do something bad?” Sabrina’s sobs were quiet this time, as if all the fight had gone out of her. 

“Bri, baby, no. No, you didn’t do anything bad,” Buck buried his nose in her hair and pulled her even closer to him, “You’re so, so good. None of this is your fault.” 

“Then why did she leave?” 

Buck tilted his head back, trying to keep his own tears from falling again. 

“Sometimes, people don’t realize that they aren’t meant to be a parent until after they already have kids. Your mom tried so hard, but being a parent wasn’t something she felt like could do. So she brought you to me because she knew that I would love you so much . And I do. I’m so sorry that your mommy’s not here for you, but I’m so happy that I get to be.”

“If I’m really good, will she come back?”

The sob burst from Buck’s chest before he could stop it, and there was no stopping the tears that fell down his cheeks. Sabrina pulled back to look at him, her own face red and wet.

“Your mom left because of her. Not you. You didn’t do anything bad and nothing either of us can do will make her come back. But I promise you–I promise you: I’m here for you. I love you and I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

He held out his pinky in offering, and she hesitated only a moment before she wrapped her own around his. 

***

After a quick bath, Buck left Sabrina in the living room watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles while he started a load of laundry and put the spare sheets and blankets on the bed. He dished up a late dinner but only managed to cajole Sabrina into eating a few bites. 

She was quieter than she’d ever been in the short time that Buck had known her. 

Buck let her process. Both of them picking at their plates and staring blankly at the television until Sabrina started yawning and Buck decided that an early night was a good plan. 

The next day didn’t go any easier. 

Buck had barely slept, waking every few hours and worriedly checking on Sabrina. She didn’t wake up through the night, as far as he was aware, but in the morning she was lethargic and Buck was certain that her sleep hadn’t been restful. 

Buck had 24 hours before his next shift and had scheduled to meet Zoey, the nanny he had hired, at the park with Sabrina later that afternoon. 

He didn’t want to leave her so soon, but he was low on choices. He didn’t have any more time off available and he’d run through so much of his savings over the last year, and even more the past week, that he couldn’t afford to take an unpaid leave. 

Buck had to go back to work, but first he had to make sure that Sabrina understood that he wasn’t abandoning her too.

“You know I’m a firefighter, right? Do you remember that?” 

Sabrina looked up from where she was absently stabbing her fork into her pancakes, not really eating anything. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Being a firefighter…it’s different than it is with other jobs,” Buck had put a lot of thought into how to explain this, “Sometimes, like today, I have a whole day where I don’t go to work. Sometimes I even have a couple of days in a row where I don’t go to work.

“But firefighters are there to help people and people need help at all different times, so when I do go to work, I have to be gone for a long time. Even overnight sometimes.”

“You have sleepovers at work?” Sabrina frowned. 

“I do, yeah,” Buck smiled, “They have beds for us and everything!” 

“Do they have a bed for me?” 

Buck didn’t let his smile slip, but his nerves spiked. “You won’t be there with me when I work overnight. You’ll be here, in your own bed. And there’ll be a nanny here staying with you until I come home. Do you know what a nanny is?”

“Is that like a babysitter? My grandma used to babysit me when momma–” She swallowed hard, but didn’t cry again, “When momma was at work.” 

“Yeah, exactly. It’s someone that takes care of you and that will stay here overnight with you when I’m at work. Your nanny’s name is Zoey, and you’re going to meet her after breakfast. We’re going to the park.” 

Sabrina looked back down at her plate, dragging her fork across the top of the pancake and shredding it. She sniffed hard and laid her head against her hand, propped up on the table, and a single tear slipped down her raw cheek. 

“Hey,” Buck tilted his head, trying to catch her eyes again, “I need you to know that Zoey is only going to be around to watch you when I’m at work, okay? She’s just here to help out. I’m not leaving you. I’ll always come home as soon as I can.” 

When Sabrina didn’t respond, Buck sighed. There was nothing he could say that would make her trust that he wouldn’t abandon her too. He’d just have to show her by being there, and by coming home, over and over again until she believed. 

Breakfast was quiet after that, with Sabrina once again barely eating. Buck finally gave up and cleared the table, packing a few snacks and some water into a bag and holding Sabrina’s hand as they walked to the park. 

Zoey was already there, and she was just as nice in person as she had been over Facetime during her interview. 

“Hi, I’m Zoey. What’s your name?” She knelt down to be at Sabrina’s eye level and smiled wide at her. 

Sabrina looked up at Buck, who nodded his encouragement, before her natural extraverted nature kicked in despite her rough night and morning. 

“My daddy calls me Bri,” she replied firmly. 

Buck blinked in surprise. 

He barely remembered using the name the night before. It had been an idle thought that he’d had when he’d been signing the paperwork to officially make her a Buckley: that Bri Buckley was such a sweet name for his sweet little girl. 

He hadn’t consciously decided to use it, but it had slipped out in his effort to comfort Sabrina. 

He certainly hadn’t imagined that it would be something she would adopt so quickly (he hadn’t honestly considered that she’d claim the name at all). But Buck understood the power of a chosen name after years spent listening to your given name said by someone who failed to fill it with the love it deserved. 

He hoped this was a sign that Sabrina — that Bri — recognized just how much Buck loved and cared for her. 

He hoped this was her solidifying their connection in her own way, and maybe — Buck sent a plea out to the universe — maybe trusting that he really would be a permanent fixture in her life.

Chapter Text

Buck walked into the locker room and plopped down on the bench, taking a moment to collect himself. 

The day before had been rough. Bri had alternated between being the happy, giggling child that he was coming to know, to suddenly bursting into tears or screaming in rage as her new reality would hit her again out of the blue. 

Buck had never felt so helpless. Every time he saw Bri struggling, Buck would have the same thought: he wished the Diaz boys were here. 

Eddie had helped Christopher through it when his mother had left them in Texas and Christopher knew first hand what Bri was feeling right now. 

Each time the thought came, Buck felt selfish and would harshly shove the thought to the back of his mind; Christopher had just lost his mother and Eddie was going through it right now and was barely even speaking to Buck. They had their own problems and Eddie was rightly prioritizing Christopher, just like Buck needed to do with Bri. 

Buck was a father now too and it was time he figured things out on his own. 

So that’s what Buck tried to do. He spent the full day at home with Bri, after leaving the park, and did his best to give her whatever she needed. He played with her when she was happy, cuddled her when she felt clingy, and gave her space to just yell out her frustrations when the anger took hold. 

He was doing his best to just be there, but none of it felt like enough. 

He had slept awfully again the night before, waking up constantly to check on her. He had remembered her pull-ups before bed, at least, and had even woken her once in the middle of the night to take her to the bathroom and change the soiled pull-ups so that she wouldn’t wake up in the morning wet and afraid or ashamed again. 

When morning finally arrived, Bri had dumped her cereal on the floor and sobbed when Buck told her that he had to go to work. Zoey had arrived mid-trantrum and had stood united with Buck in assuring Bri that Buck was only going to be gone for one night and that he’d be back the next morning. 

Leaving had nearly broken Buck. 

“Are you hung over?” Eddie’s voice came from behind him, incredulous. 

Buck jolted back into the present and looked up from where he was still slouched on the bench. Eddie’s expression was hard and disapproving, the way it was every time he had looked at Buck since the arbitration.

“I wouldn’t come to work hung over. You know me better than that.” 

Eddie scoffed. “I thought I did. Then you sued the city to get a job back that you barely seem to care about anymore.” 

That hurt. Buck had sued the city to get back to his purpose, not just a job. More importantly, he had sued the city to get back to them: to the 118. 

Not that he had them anymore, even being back here. But he still had the job and even as rough as it was not being allowed in the field, he loved this job. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Buck’s emotions were raw, and he was running on over a week of barely any sleep. He was defensive and hurt and now was not the time to be finally having it out with Eddie. 

It didn’t look like Eddie was giving him any choice though. 

“You’ve spent every shift lately staring at your phone, you constantly look like you’d rather be anywhere else, now you’re calling out and showing up looking like you spent the last two days partying. What am I supposed to think?” 

Buck stood up and turned to face Eddie properly, holding his chin up in defiance, “Maybe that I have a lot going on right now and—“

Eddie barreled over him, “That’s another thing. You don’t seem to give a damn about anyone else lately. You barely talk to any of us. Do you even have a clue what’s going on in my life? In Hen’s or, hell, even Maddie’s?”

That knocked the wind out of Buck’s sails. 

“What’s going on with Maddie?”

Had Chimney said something to Eddie about her? The team tended to talk on the truck on the way to and from calls, something Buck obviously wasn’t around for lately.

“But no!” Eddie continued, ignoring or maybe not even registering Buck’s response over his own need to fight, “Everything is about the Trials and Tribulations of Evan Buckley, the rest of us be damned.”

Eddie threw his hands up in frustration, then took a step forward to get in Buck’s face, his expression furious. 

“That’s not—“ 

“Eddie, my office, now.”

Bobby’s voice cut through the angry retort that Buck was gearing up to shout. Both men looked over to find their captain standing in the doorway to the locker room, face blank and looking directly at Eddie. 

It was still a few minutes before the shift change, so thankfully there weren’t many people around to witness this disaster: just a few B-Shift stragglers staring from where they were loitering by the ambulance. One more downside to glass locker rooms. 

“Buck, get changed and start on breakfast,” Bobby said firmly. 

Eddie huffed and stormed past Bobby, carefully avoiding bumping into their captain — though something about the way he so carefully avoided it told Buck that he maybe wanted to hit his shoulder into Bobby’s as he passed. 

Bobby followed Eddie up the stairs and closed his office door behind them. 

Buck let out a heavy breath and turned to pull his uniform from his bag. Eddie seemed to be getting more angry every day lately, and Buck wasn’t sure why or how to help. He was sure that Eddie didn’t want his help though, which stung. 

He dressed quickly, pausing only briefly while storing his bag and civilian clothes in his locker to gaze at the drawing he’d hung up in the back of it. 

It was the drawing of the orange butterfly that Bri had gifted to him on their first meeting. He reached out and laid two fingers on one of the wings, hoping to absorb some strength from the knowledge that his daughter was home and safe and that he’d see her again in 24 hours. 

He pocketed his phone and headed upstairs to start on breakfast just as Hen and Chimney entered the station. 

Once breakfast was made  — oatmeal, mixed with apple slices and cinnamon — and Hen and Chimney were happily eating at the table, Buck pulled his phone back out of his pocket and shot off a text to Maddie. 

Buck: Just checking in. How are you doing?

He could ask Chimney, but he’d rather get his information directly from the source. 

When he didn’t get a response right away, Buck pocketed his phone again. He wouldn’t panic yet. Maddie was probably at work and he had to believe that if anything too awful was going on, Chimney would have said something to him despite the current distance between him and the team.

Buck ate his own breakfast quickly while he waited for his own chance to talk to Bobby about the morning. 

He didn’t have to wait long before Eddie stormed out of Bobby’s office, heading downstairs to presumably change for their shift. Buck timidly entered Bobby’s office.

Bobby was sitting at his desk, filling out some paperwork, but he looked up when Buck entered and raised an eyebrow. 

Buck set a bowl of oatmeal down on the desk in offering. 

“I just…I wanted you to know that I’m not hung over. And I have been taking this job seriously since I’ve been back, even though I still haven’t been out in the field.” 

“Have you?” Bobby’s face stayed blank, the eyebrow still up. 

“Yes!” Buck defended. “Okay, yeah, I’ve been on my phone more. But I’ve completed every task assigned to me. I’m not slacking!” 

He’d even made sure that every task exceeded any reasonable expectations. The firehouse and trucks had never been cleaner and their inventory checklists never as organized. 

“Tell me honestly, Buck, are you back on those apps you were using as a probie? It’s your business if you are, but I can’t have you disappearing in the middle of shift to–”

“No!” Buck was outraged. He’d worked so hard to distance himself from his 1.0 days. He didn’t know how Bobby failed to see that. “I deleted those before I started dating Abby and I haven’t used them since.” 

Not that there was anything wrong with using them. Even Bobby had signed up for one briefly before he started dating Athena. The problem was Buck using them. They made it too easy to lean into the hookup aspect and that wasn’t what Buck wanted anymore. 

Bobby nodded, but his face didn’t thaw from the concerned captain's expression, “Then what have you been doing? Because you can see how this looks from our perspective.” 

That seemed to be a running theme lately: everyone asking Buck to look at things from their side, but no one making any effort to see anything from his. 

It didn’t matter. 

It hurt, but Buck pushed that aside. The only perspective that Buck could bring himself to fully invest in right now was Bri’s. 

He still wasn’t ready to tell the 118 about his daughter. 

The fear that they’d say something that would delay or even halt the custody changeover had disappeared nearly as fast as it had come up. But the concern that Bri would pick up their negative feelings about Buck and think those feelings were directed at her had only grown after watching her struggle to process the changes in her life over the last few days and now, especially, after the confrontation with Eddie. 

“I-uh, I moved,” Buck slumped into the chair in front of Bobby’s desk, “I actually wanted to talk to you today about updating my address.” 

“You moved?” Bobby’s face finally showed some emotion, “Why?” 

Buck had a plan ready for this, and so was able to answer easily, “After a few months of sleeping on my couch when I was in a cast, I figured maybe a single-story place was a better fit.” 

“Are you having residual pain or stiffness from the accident?” Bobby rushed to ask. 

For a moment, Buck saw real concern there. Not the professional concern of his captain, but the fatherly concern that Bobby had shown when he’d been there for Buck during his PT appointments and the early days of his recovery. 

“No, nothing like that,” Buck reassured him. “And obviously I’m going to do my best not to get hurt again. But, it’s always a possibility in this job. And, besides, Ali co-signed on the loft and now that we’re broken up–”

Buck shrugged and let the sentence hang for a moment before finishing, “I just thought that a new place with a fresh start was better all around.”

Bobby continued to assess Buck, before finally, reluctantly, nodding and pulling out the paperwork needed for Buck to update his address. 

***

Buck waited until the team was off on their first call of the day before checking his phone again. He didn’t have a reply from Maddie, but there was a notification from Zoey that sent Buck’s anxiety through the roof until he fumbled his phone unlocked and found a photo of Bri coloring at the dining table. 

Zoey: Just wanted you to know that she’s calmed down and everything is going smoothly.

In the photo, Bri’s face was serious and focused. The edge of the paper was peeking out around her arm, colored a bright blue. Buck couldn’t see the full drawing, but she was holding a red crayon and there was a rainbow of other colored crayons scattered across the table. 

Buck: Thank you. I needed that.

Zoey: I figured. :) First day back is always rough. 

Buck had given Zoey an abbreviated explanation of their family situation; enough that she’d be able to understand and reassure Bri when Buck wasn’t there. 

Buck: Yeah. I miss her. 

Zoey: She misses you, but she’s a tough kid. You’ve both got this. 

Buck put his phone away and focused back on work. 

He needed to show that he was just as serious about the job now as he’d ever been if he planned to ever be allowed back in the field. 

***

The day passed slowly for Buck. He did his best to channel all of his stress and worry about Bri into his work. 

The team had been out on calls most of the day and were just sitting down to a well-deserved dinner break when Buck’s phone rang with an incoming Facetime call. They all looked up at him, but Buck waved them off and slipped away up to the roof for privacy. 

“Daddy!” Bri shouted, as soon as Buck picked up. 

Buck’s grin couldn’t be contained, “Hey, sweetheart. Have you had a good day?” 

“I colored and we went to the park and a lady let me pet her dogs!” Bri was jumping up and down in excitement, the phone shaking around and making Buck vaguely dizzy. 

A pair of hands that Buck knew belonged to Zoey came into view as the phone was taken away from his daughter and held up so that Buck could see her without the shaking. 

“The lady at the park said she walks doggies as a job!” Bri continued, “Isn’t that cool?” 

Buck laughed, “The coolest!”

“We’re gonna have lasagna for dinner. I wanted tacos, but Zoey said we didn’t have the right ingr-” Bri stumbled over the pronunciation and a whisper from off screen supplied Bri with the correct word, “We don’t have the right ingredients.” 

Buck had prepped a few meals yesterday, including the lasagna, so that all Zoey needed to do today was reheat them for Bri and herself. 

Buck was still learning what foods Bri did and didn’t like, but overall she didn’t seem like much of a picky eater. The issue that he’d discovered so far was more that he couldn’t seem to get her to take more than a few bites of anything during meals. Buck had been trying to encourage snacking throughout the day to make sure she got enough nutrients. 

“She’s right, we don’t have the ingredients for tacos right now. But if you want, I can stop and pick them up on my way home in the morning and we can make tacos for lunch tomorrow?” 

Bri cheered, which was all the confirmation that Buck needed. 

They talked for a few more minutes, with Bri spending most of that time describing the dogs she had pet at the park, before the oven beeped and they said a quick good night. 

“I’ll be home in the morning. I miss you,” Buck smiled into the camera, his heart aching with how much he missed his little girl. He’d needed this call probably even more than she had. 

“Miss you, Daddy! Goodnight!” 

Buck hung up the phone just as it chimed with an incoming text. 

Maddie: Did Chimney say something to you? I’m fine, honestly. 

Buck: Should Chimney have said something to me? What’s going on?

Maddie: Nothing. I broke a glass at Chimney’s and got a little freaked out. It’s nothing. 

Buck clicked the call button and Maddie answered on the first ring. 

“I swear, it’s fine. I’ve even already talked to Chimney about it, we’re good.” Maddie’s voice was both comforting and annoyed, a combination that Buck was sure only a big sister could accomplish. 

“It’s okay not to be fine, you know that right?” Buck wandered over to the edge of the roof and leaned against the wall, “You don’t always have to be strong. You’re allowed to freak out and wallow or cry or whatever you need.” 

He could hear the smile in Maddie’s voice when she responded, “I know. But Doug’s already taken up so much of my past. I’m not going to let him take up any more of my present.”

“I get that, and I’m proud of you. But…”

“Buck, I’m fine. It was just a glass and I was just…reminded for a moment. It passed.”

Buck nodded, even though Maddie couldn’t see it. 

“Okay. But if you do need to talk—”

“I’ll call you,” Maddie confirmed. “But I don’t need to talk about this, alright? How about we talk about you? How are you?”

Buck suddenly understood Maddie’s desire to deflect, because he wasn’t prepared to talk to her about everything happening in his life either. He missed the days when he could tell his family everything. He wasn’t good at keeping his worries or his joys to himself, and Bri was both. 

“I’m fine too. Good,” Buck chewed on his lip and waited, not offering anything more. 

“Right. Okay. So we’re both fine,” Maddie’s voice was doubtful, “And we’ll both say something if we ever…aren’t fine. Right?” 

“Right.” 

There was a few seconds of silence, before Buck finally said, “Well, I should go.” 

They said a stilted goodbye before hanging up, and Buck sighed at how brief and awkward that whole call had been. 

***

Buck stopped at the grocery store a few blocks from his house the next morning, intent on quickly grabbing the fixings for tacos so that he could get home and finally see his little girl again. 

He’d made the mistake of not asking her what kind of tacos she preferred, so he was grabbing a bit of everything: hamburger, carne asada, chicken breast, and even some cod in case Bri was thinking of fish tacos. 

It was perhaps a bit of overkill, but Buck would figure out something to cook with whichever meats didn’t go into the tacos. 

When he pushed his cart around the corner to the dairy aisle, however, he paused in his tracks as he registered someone blocking the area where the sour cream was shelved.

The man in front of him was built like a tank: all broad shoulders and muscle. Buck’s eyes traced the lines in his back down to a tight and high ass, pausing there for a moment before going further down to strong thighs and calves. 

Buck considered himself in great condition, but he’d never achieved the kind of muscle that this guy was showcasing. 

Buck glanced into his cart, eyes widening in surprise at the cupcakes stacked on top of several boxes of pasta and jars of different sauces. Words burst out of him without thought. 

“How do you look like that, if you’re eating like that?” 

The man turned at Buck’s words and his expression flashed from incredulous to amusement as he registered Buck. 

He was just as impressive from the front. Maybe even more so. 

He had blue eyes and high cheekbones and a chin cleft. His pecs were pushing out his shirt and Buck was sure that if the clothing was any tighter, Buck would see the outline of abs below it. His arm was bent, holding a container of greek yogurt in one large hand and causing his shirt sleeve to pull tight over an impressively large bicep. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Sorry!” Buck winced. “Sorry, just…that’s a whole lot of pasta and sugar and, well, look at you. I mean, what is your workout regime that you look like that?” 

Buck waved a hand to indicate all of the man, then blushed because what the hell was wrong with him?

Thankfully, the guy didn’t seem offended and only chuckled at the question. 

“I’m a pretty active guy. My name’s Tommy,” he placed the yogurt into his cart and held his hand out to Buck. 

“Right! Sorry, I’m–uh, I’m Buck. Evan. Evan Buckley.” Buck took the hand and shook it, smiling. “I swear I usually have more manners than this.” 

“Noted,” Tommy’s smile pushed his nose and cheeks up into crinkles that were adorably charming. His eyes gave Buck a slow once-over as well, “I gotta say, you don’t look like you’re struggling in the work-out department though.” 

Buck preened, just a bit. Given how much muscle mass he’d lost and then had to regain over the last six months of recovery and recertification, Buck felt he had earned the right to preen. 

“I’ve been working at it,” Buck tucked his head down, trying to stay modest, “But, uh, even with as hard as I work, I still have to be careful what I eat and I’ve never managed to get my body fat percentage where I want it.” 

Tommy’s eyes looked him over again, “I don’t know what your goals are, but what you’ve got now is working for you.” 

Buck blushed again, the words sitting like a warm weight on his chest. 

“Th-Thanks.” 

They stood there, staring at each other, for another moment before Tommy seemed to come to some decision. 

“Let me give you my number. Maybe I could give you some tips sometime?” 

There was a small smile still pulling at the cupid bow of the man’s mouth, and Buck pulled out his phone and handed it over in a bit of a daze. Something about this man was almost overwhelming, but in a way that Buck desperately wanted more of. 

Tommy typed on the phone for a moment, before handing it back to Buck. 

“Hope to hear from you, Evan.” 

Buck watched Tommy walk away until he turned the corner at the end of the aisle and disappeared from sight. He unlocked his phone and looked at the new contact that had been added. 

Contact: Tommy (Grocery Store Guy)

Buck absently licked his lips. That had been…weird. Buck had definitely come across like a freak. He was shocked the guy had been so friendly to him. 

After a moment’s consideration, Buck decided to mentally blame his own weird behavior on the stress and isolation lately and put it out of his mind. He clearly hadn’t been too freaky, since Tommy had given him his number and even offered to give him pointers, so it was probably fine. 

Buck wondered how soon was too soon to text for those pointers. 

He’d been spending most of his time working out at the station lately (when he had time to work out at all). All of his free weights and workout bench were still in boxes somewhere in his room. Maybe he’d start with unpacking those before he figured out a casual first text.

That settled, Buck picked up the sour cream that he’d come down this aisle for, then headed to check out.

Chapter Text

Buck read over his text again, assessing. 

He felt like he really needed to get this first text exactly right, but he’d been struggling with it for the better part of an hour now. He’d been such a weirdo when he first met Tommy, and, if he could just form the exact right text, then maybe he could override some of that awkward first impression 

Maybe Tommy would actually think Buck was an okay guy and want to get to know him.

The text didn’t seem to be getting any better, though, no matter how long Buck fiddled with it. He gathered his courage and forced himself to stop overthinking and just hit send. 

Immediately, he put the phone down and started his workout. 

His mental spiral had built into an abundance of nervous energy. At least he had that going for him. Nothing drove a harder workout than stress and/or nerves, in Buck’s experience. 

Buck: [image]

Buck: You’ve inspired me. I finally unpacked my equipment.

The image was a selfie of Buck, sitting on his workout bench at the far end of his bedroom. He was wearing a tank top and loose shorts and his loaded weight stand was just visible behind and to the right of him. 

He’d taken five photos before he got the angle and lighting just right. He wanted his muscles to pop, but without the photo feeling staged or edited. 

He’d been debating back and forth on whether the selfie should even be included, but ultimately he figured it would help him avoid the awkward this is Evan Buckley, we met at the grocery store this morning reintroduction text. 

Unless Tommy had already forgotten what he looked like and was now staring blankly at the photo of some random stranger with no context to tie it to. 

Maybe he should have sent the reintroduction text. 

Why was this so difficult? 

Buck set aside his dumbbells again and picked his phone back up, ready to send the clarification. As soon as it was in his hand, however, the phone pinged with an incoming text.

That nervous energy kicked up a notch. 

Tommy (Grocery Store Guy): [image]

The photo was a close up of Tommy taking a giant bite out of a cupcake, frosting on his nose, as he stared right down the camera. His eyes were an insane shade of blue. 

Another text came in seconds after the first. 

Tommy (Grocery Store Guy): You’ve inspired me too. I decided I needed a sweet treat.

Was it weird to be oddly pleased at having inspired Tommy to spoil himself a bit? 

Buck: Well that’s just not fair. Now I want a cupcake.

Tommy (Grocery Store Guy): I’m willing to share.

Buck laughed, hunching forward on the bench so his forearms rested on his legs.

Buck: I’m trying to be good over here, thank you.

Tommy (Grocery Store Guy): Why would you want to do a thing like that? ;) 

Buck: I feel like I need to work out even harder now, from the second-hand sugar intake.

Tommy (Grocery Store Guy): mmm :Þ

Buck sent back an eye-roll emoji, then scrolled back up and saved the photo Tommy had sent him. He clicked to edit Tommy’s contact, adjusting the name to remove the added parenthetical note and assigned the photo as the contact image. 

He stared at the contact details for another moment, grinning. 

He felt lighter than he had in days, happy to simply have someone who wanted to talk to him again. 

***

Buck and Tommy continued to text over the next week. 

They kept it light, nothing particularly personal. A lot of times, it was just photos: meals they were eating, the amount of weight they were currently lifting, even selfies taken while out on a run (Buck) or doing yoga (Tommy). There were even some photos of cars Tommy was working on, or cool bugs that Buck saw at the park near his house. 

Sometimes, Buck would send him screenshots of whatever random topic he was researching for the night and Tommy would send back questions on the subject and let Buck ramble about what he was learning. 

One particularly fun night, after Bri was asleep, Buck had needled Tommy into turning on the documentary that he was watching about the pirate Sam Bellamy. Tommy had called him and they’d alternated between silently keeping each other company while they watched, and talking about the tragic love story that was at the heart of Bellamy’s life and death. 

That was when Buck learned that Tommy was a hopeless romantic and his favorite movies were rom-coms. 

Tommy was currently texting him about planning another watch-along, this time with a movie called 10 Things I Hate About You. Tommy said it was a modern rewrite of a classic Shakespearean play, which Buck was intrigued by. 

He didn’t know much about Shakespear, but he was extremely curious how the play could be adapted to a modern setting. He wanted to do some research on it after they watched the movie. 

“Who are you talking to?” 

Buck looked up at where his daughter had climbed onto the back of the couch. She was draped across it like a sloth on a tree branch — one leg thrown over either side, and her elbows up on the backrest supporting her head in her hands. She was looking sideways at the phone. 

She couldn’t read yet, but loved to pretend and Buck tilted the phone so she could see it better. 

“A new friend.” 

He scrolled up until he found the most recent selfie Tommy had sent him. In it, Tommy had aviator sunglasses on and a backwards baseball hat. He was sweating as he crouched outside, obviously doing yard work. 

“He looks silly,” Bri laughed. 

“He is a little silly,” Buck confirmed, grinning. 

It was true. In the short time that he’d known the man, it had become unexpectedly evident that Tommy was a bit of a dork. A fact that Buck called him out on frequently.

“I made a new friend too,” Bri announced, proudly. 

Buck put his phone down and turned to give his daughter his full attention. 

“Really? That’s great!” 

Bri had just started daycare the day before. She was going for four hours in the morning, from 8 am until noon. It allowed Buck to drop her off on the way to work when he had a morning shift, but it also gave him time to get a nap in before picking her up on days when he’d worked overnight and got off work in the mornings. 

Zoey still watched Bri the rest of the time Buck was at work. She’d been a bit of a godsend with how well she and Bri hit it off. Buck was glad that Bri had another adult in her life and that they were finally building a sustainable routine together. 

Everything that he’d read said that routine was important for helping Bri feel secure in her new home. 

She’d been handling the absence of her mother fairly well during the day. At night though, she would still ask for Amelia. 

Once, she’d even ripped up the story book that Buck was reading to her because he apparently wasn’t singing the song in it the way her momma did. She’d burst into tears afterwards and Buck had held her until she fell asleep. 

“My friend’s name is Ashley. What’s your friend’s name?” Bri folded her arms so that she could lay down further, head pillowed on them. 

“His name is Tommy. Did you and Ashley play together at daycare?” 

“Uh-huh,” Bri slid off the back of the couch and onto the seat, squirming around until she was sitting next to him, “We played with legos and we colored. Can we watch Turbo?” 

“Sure, kiddo.”

Buck ruffled her hair and switched on the movie. 

***

“What do you want for dinner tonight?” 

Buck placed the milk in the shopping cart and looked at Bri. She was skipping ahead three steps, then back, humming to the music playing over the store speakers. 

“Mashed potatoes!” Bri shouted, adding a little twirl to her dance. 

“Mashed potatoes it is,” Buck grinned, “What should we have with them?” 

“Gravy!” 

Buck laughed. “Okay, and what else?” 

“I don’t know,” She shrugged, then spun again. 

“What about some chicken?” 

“No. Macaroni!” Bri said decisively. She jumped on the end of the cart and rode as Buck pushed them towards the produce section. 

“Macaroni and mashed potatoes?” 

“Yup!” 

Buck nodded, already planning to sneak some chicken breast into the macaroni for Bri (he’d substitute macaroni for chicken breast alone for himself). 

He came to a slow stop beside the potatoes, conscious of Bri at the end of the cart, and turned to grab a produce bag. He picked out five large potatoes. Bri loved potatoes whichever way that Buck prepared them, so he figured they’d probably be eating them again at some point this week. 

When he turned back to the cart, he froze. 

Bri was no longer hanging off of the end of it. 

Heart racing, Buck absently set the potatoes in the cart and looked around, expecting her to be dancing her way down one of the rows of produce. 

She wasn’t. 

He left the cart where it was and started walking quickly, doing a quick check in case she was hidden behind a crate of oranges or tomatoes. 

“Bri?” Buck called out, steps speeding up as he left the produce section and started checking down the aisles.  

With every aisle that Buck passed, he became more frantic. 

He’d only looked away from her for a moment. How could she be gone?

He started running, shouting “Bri!” down every aisle. He nearly ran over a middle-aged woman picking out a loaf of bread. 

“Have you seen a little girl? Four years old, with curly brown hair and freckles?” 

The woman opened her mouth, expression already telegraphing that she hadn’t seen his daughter. Her face was a mask of pity and Buck sucked in a breath, the phantom taste of ocean water on his tongue.

Not again. This couldn’t be happening again. 

Where was she?

“We are looking for a lost parent. Will the lost parent of Bri please come to the front?”

Thank god. 

Buck was running towards the front of the store before the announcement stopped. 

He saw her as he was jumping the chain on a closed check-out lane. Bri was sitting on the counter at the Customer Service area, wedged between a teenage clerk on one side of the counter and a tall man on the customer side. 

“Daddy!” 

Bri let out an oomph as Buck pulled her into his arms and spun her around. He squeezed her against his chest, his heart and mind still racing with the panic of not knowing where she was.

“I take it you know this guy?” The clerk asked Bri brightly. 

Buck forced himself to stop and let Bri down to stand on her own feet. He kept hold of her hand though. He couldn’t make himself let go of that tether to her just yet. 

Bri looked up at the clerk and smiled, “This is my daddy.” 

“Evan?” 

Buck’s head whipped around to the man who had been standing at the counter with Bri. It was Tommy. 

“What – What are you doing here?” 

Probably not the nicest way to phrase the question, but Buck was still coming down from the fear-adrenalin and speaking was a particular challenge at the moment. 

“He helped me,” Bri chimed in before anyone else could speak. 

Buck looked down at his daughter, “He did?” 

“Yeah! I wanted to get gravy for the mashed potatoes, but I couldn’t find it. And then I couldn’t find you.” 

“I saw her alone down the cereal aisle, looking lost, so I brought her here to have her parents paged.” Tommy joined the story, his voice and face expressionless. 

Buck looked at him. 

He and Tommy had only spoken twice: once when they met and again over the phone during their documentary watch-along, so Buck wasn’t overly familiar with Tommy’s tone of voice. The blankness in it now seemed odd though. 

“Can you guys move this to the side? Sorry, I’ve just got to keep the line clear,” The clerk gestured to an area a little further down, where there was a closed glasses store and they could stand around and talk without being in the way. 

The group relocated without comment, other than Buck’s quiet “thank you for paging me” to the clerk. 

Once they were out of the way, he turned his attention back to Tommy, “Thank you. I went into a blind panic when I realized she wasn’t beside me anymore.” 

Tommy nodded, “Understandable.” 

“Seriously, you are my hero. I–” Buck started. 

“It wasn’t a problem,” Tommy cut off Buck’s heartfelt praise, “You’ve got a sweet kid.” 

Bri beamed up at them both. 

“Yeah, I really do,” Buck beamed back down at his daughter. 

“So…there’s not a mom hidden somewhere as well, is there?” 

There was something catty in Tommy’s tone, but Buck didn’t have time to parse it out. As soon as Tommy had spoken, Bri’s shoulders had dropped and the beaming smile that had been on her face faded. 

“Momma didn’t want to be a momma anymore, so she gave me to daddy.” Bri’s voice was tiny. 

Buck glanced up just long enough to register immediate regret and pain on Tommy’s face, before he turned back to Bri. 

He knelt down beside his daughter and angled his head until he caught her eyes, “Can you remind me what we talked about when your mommy left?” 

Bri sniffed and shook her head ‘no.’

“Who’s fault is it that your mommy left?” Buck held his breath, hoping the question sparked a reminder of their conversation and didn’t exasperate Bri’s feelings of abandonment and self-blame. 

“No-no one’s.” She drew the words out, voice tight with unshed tears. 

Buck was so proud of her. That lesson — that people leaving wasn’t always your fault — was one that Buck still struggled with, but this tiny girl was already recalling it and able to parrot it back when asked. She really was incredible. 

“That’s right. It’s no one’s fault. And who loves you more than anything in this whole world?” 

A shy smile pulled at the corners of Bri’s mouth, dimples just barely showing. 

“You do.” 

“That’s right! Two for two!” Buck grinned now, trying to put as much confidence and happiness into his voice as he could, “And who is so sooooo happy to have you in his life now?” 

“You are.” Bri was brightening up with each question, so Buck kept going. 

“And who is the absolute best Buckley around?” 

Buck had explained her new name to Bri a few days before. She’d been confused at first, but when Buck told her that they were sharing the name because it meant that they were family now, she had embraced it with enthusiasm. She’d forced Buck and Zoey to write Bri Buckley on the bottom of every drawing she’d done since and she was even learning how to write it herself. 

Bri grinned, bright and mischievous, “You are.” 

Buck laughed and reached out to tickle her stomach, “No, silly. YOU are!” 

Bri giggled and wrapped her arms around Buck’s neck, and he slid his own arm around her and stood, lifting her safely against his side. 

“Well, if my opinion counts at all,” Tommy jumped in, giving Bri a crinkle-eyed smile, “You are definitely MY new favorite Buckley.” 

“Hey!” Buck gave an exaggerated pout and Bri giggled again. 

“Sorry, Evan. You’re adorable, but she’s got you beat,” Tommy winked at Bri, reaching out and poking her side to make her squirm. 

“Man, I can’t even argue that. She is definitely cuter than me,” Buck’s cheeks hurt from smiling so hard and he leaned down to plant a smacking kiss on Bri’s curls. 

“Why do you call daddy Evan?” Bri asked Tommy. 

“Uh…” Tommy turned to Buck, looking unsure how to respond. 

“This is Tommy. Remember, I showed you his picture?” Buck caught the surprised look on Tommy’s face and hoped he didn’t think it was weird that Buck had shown his photo to his daughter. 

“Yeah! He’s the silly man!” Bri looked at Tommy for confirmation, but Tommy just glanced between the two Buckley’s, speechless. 

“He is, you’re right,” Buck shot a grin at Tommy, “He calls me Evan cause he’s my friend and that’s my name.” 

“I know,” Bri said, nodding. 

Buck was pretty sure she didn’t. Bri had heard both Amelia and Zoey calling him by the name ‘Buck,’ never ‘Evan.’ But he’d learned early on that Bri tended to say ‘I know’ when she really meant that she understood. 

Or sometimes when she didn’t understand, but didn’t want to admit it. 

Sometimes, she also said it when she was bored of a conversation and ready to move on. It was a bit of a catch all response for her, actually. 

“Do you want to have dinner with us?” Bri asked Tommy, “We’re having macaroni and mashed potatoes and gravy!” 

“Not all together,” Buck clarified.

Tommy looked back and forth between them, still seeming a little shell-shocked. “I don’t want to intrude.” 

“Never,” Buck shook his head, “You saved me from a heart attack today. Let me feed you in thanks.” 

Buck and Bri both gave their best puppy eyes, Bri adding a “Pretty please” on top. 

Tommy laughed, “How could I say no to those faces? You two are deadly.” 

Both Buckleys cheered. 

***

They finished their shopping as a group after hunting down Buck’s cart from the produce section, then went their separate ways for a few hours with the plan to meet back up at dinner time. 

Before splitting up, Buck texted Tommy his address, and Tommy looked at it and smiled. 

“It’s a wonder I’ve never run into you before the other day. You only live two blocks from me.” 

“Really?” Buck grinned, “We just moved in. So, uh, don’t judge when you come over. I still haven’t finished unpacking.” 

The first thing that Tommy did, when he arrived at the Buckley abode (as Buck introduced it), was to mock-tsk at the few boxes still stacked against the wall. 

“Hey! I said don’t judge,” Buck laughed, bumping his shoulder against the other man's. 

Tommy shot him a smirk, then caught a running hug from Bri.  

She latched onto Tommy during dinner, telling all her best stories and keeping the attention focused on her throughout the meal. Buck gently reminding her to take a bite and to chew her food every now and then. 

Bri was enamored with Tommy, which Buck could hardly blame her for. The man listened seriously to all of her stories, asking questions and laughing at all the right parts. He was clearly her new favorite person. 

It wasn’t until Buck put Bri to bed, that he finally got a chance to talk to the other man himself. 

Tommy was standing in his kitchen, looking at the colorful drawings that Buck had hung on the fridge, when Buck quietly snuck out of Bri’s bedroom after reading her two bedtime stories. 

“I’m sorry, about before. Bringing up Bri’s mom like that.” 

Tommy’s voice was solemn, the guilt that Buck had seen in the grocery store taking over his expression again as he turned to Buck. 

“You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t know.” 

It was the kind of question Buck expected that they’d get a lot, probably for the rest of Bri’s childhood. It hurt, because he knew it would hurt her every time for years to come. But there was nothing he could do to avoid it. People would assume that Bri had two parents, and they’d ask after the one not in front of them. It wouldn’t be out of malice or anything: just simple curiosity that would poke at a wound that Buck prayed would one day heal over. 

“Still, I could have had a bit more tact,” Tommy insisted. 

Buck shrugged, because Tommy hadn’t been unkind exactly, just a little off-kiltered and Buck still wasn’t sure why. 

“How long has she been with you?” 

“A little over a week.”

Tommy’s eyebrows went up, clearly surprised, “That recent?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty new. I didn’t even know she existed last month,” Buck swallowed hard, “Amelia, her mom, never told me. We weren’t dating or anything. I don’t think you could even call us friends with benefits. We barely knew each other.” 

Buck shrugged again, prepared to stop there, but Tommy was looking at him with so much kindness. Something about him made Buck want to share more, want to tell Tommy everything. 

He flopped down onto a bar stool at the counter and Tommy walked around it to sit on the stool next to Buck. They both turned to face each other, knees bumping as Buck explained how Amelia had approached him two weeks ago with the news of their daughter and how she felt unfit to keep her.  

“I’ve missed so much. Bri will be five years old in another couple of weeks and I wasn’t there for any of it,” Buck continued. He was aware that his voice was going tight with emotion, but Tommy just kept looking at him with those kind eyes and now that Buck had started, he wasn’t sure he could stop. He hadn’t had anyone to talk to about any of it, and now he couldn’t stop himself from dumping it all at Tommy’s feet and hoping it wasn’t too much — that it didn’t scare the other man off.

“I-uh. I should have asked her so many more questions when I found out. It all happened so fast, and now, I think Amelia blocked me. She won’t answer my calls or texts, and there’s so much I’ve realized that I just don’t know. I don’t know what Bri’s first word was, or when she started walking. I don’t even know if she has any allergies! I made her a peanut butter sandwich the other day and then almost had a panic attack when she took a bite because what if she was allergic to peanuts and I had no clue and had basically just fed her poison?!” 

Tommy’s hand reached out and grabbed his, holding it tightly, “You didn’t, though. She’s fine.” 

“But what if she hadn’t been? What if she gets stung by a bee in the park and her throat closes up or…” 

The hand holding his squeezed again, “Hey, breathe. If something happens, you’ll figure it out. Just like any other parent discovering their kid has an allergy for the first time.”

Buck nodded, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. 

Tommy was right. Buck knew he was. 

He opened his eyes again and looked up at the other man, “Sorry, I just…I have no idea what I’m doing and I’ve missed so much of her life already. I don’t want to mess up even more.” 

“You haven’t messed anything up,” Tommy gently cupped Buck’s bicep with the hand not grasping his, and moved his thumb soothingly up and down. “You’ve been there for her since you found out about her. She’s tough. You’ll both get through this.” 

“I just wish she didn’t have to be, you know?” Buck sighed. 

Bri was so strong and brave and Buck was so proud of her. 

He just wished he had been there for all of her milestones. He wished that things had gone differently with Amelia. Maybe she would have stayed, with more support from the start. Or, if she couldn’t have, at least Bri wouldn’t have been left with someone who was barely more than a stranger to her. 

His daughter deserved the absolute best and Buck knew that his fumbling attempts at fatherhood so far were far short of that. 

He’d looked away from her long enough to lose her in the store today! 

That never should have happened. Buck should have learned that lesson, at least, after he’d turned his back on Christopher and lost him in the tsunami. 

Both of Bri’s parents had been nothing but a disappointment in her short life so far.

“That kid has had probably one of the toughest months of her life,” Tommy said, “And she still spent tonight giggling and telling us stories. She clearly adores you. You are doing amazing, Evan. And I don’t mean ‘great under the circumstances,’ either. You are doing amazing.” 

Tommy put emphasis on each of the last four words, verbally pounding his point home. 

The words and the earnestness in which they were said pulled at Buck’s heart and all at once the events of the day caught up to him. Buck stumbled to his feet and pulled Tommy out of his seat and into a hug. He buried his face in the other man’s shoulder and sniffled. 

“Thank you.” 

He wasn’t sure Tommy even heard him, with the way his face was smashed against the man’s shirt, but he meant it. He was thankful to Tommy for so much: For texting with him over the last week and being a bright point in Buck’s days; for finding and helping his daughter today; for hugging her and listening to her and making her happy during dinner; for reassuring Buck, when Buck unloaded all his worries on him.

He’d needed to hear that reassurance more than he could express. 

The last few weeks had been overwhelming, and Buck had felt helpless and alone through all of it. He didn’t really know Tommy yet. He wasn’t even sure if the other man considered them friends. It didn’t matter. The validation from him about Buck’s efforts still soothed over some of the anxiety that had been dragging at Buck since Amelia had first held up a photo and told him the child in it was his daughter. 

Tommy’s arms held Buck firmly, offering comfort and safety and Buck let himself melt into it. 

Chapter Text

“Daddy!” 

Buck jerked awake, heart racing in panic as he shot upright in bed, gasping. 

He fought the covers that were tangled around his legs, trapping him, and turned to where Bri was kneeling on the side of his bed. His hands searched over her, looking for any sign of injury. 

“I’m here. Are you okay? What happened? Did you have a nightmare?” 

She was crying, eyes wide and scared, but otherwise was unharmed as far as he could see. 

“No, you did,” Bri whispered. Her small hand reached up and wiped tears off of Buck’s cheek. 

“Wha—”

The memory of the dream came back in flashes. Buck pushing through chest-deep water, searching endlessly, screaming out for Christopher, then for Bri. The two children confused in his sleeping mind, unsure which was missing; terrified that both were gone. 

Sometimes, he almost caught a glimpse of one or the other in the water, but no matter how fast he swam, he never reached them. 

After losing Bri in the store earlier in the day, Buck supposed he should have expected this, but it had been nearly a month since his last nightmare. He’d optimistically hoped that he was moving past them. 

“Are you okay, Daddy?” Bri had cuddled up to him, hugging him sideways with her head resting against his ribs. Her own cheeks were still wet, but her breathing had settled. 

Buck’s arm around her tightened, “I’m okay. It was just a dream. I’m sorry I woke you up.” 

How loud had he been that it had woken his daughter from a sound sleep in another room? 

“It’s okay.” 

His four year old had woken up and was comforting her father after a nightmare. God, Buck was awful at this. This shouldn’t be her responsibility. 

“Was there a monster in your dream?” 

Buck slid down in bed, pulling Bri with him. He arranged the covers around them and tucked her tight against his side. It was time to change the tone of the night.  

“No monsters, just lots of water,” Buck forced a chuckle, attempting to lighten the situation for them both. His little girl had so much empathy, which filled Buck with pride. But the last thing Buck wanted was for her to be distressed because he had been.

“Water isn’t scary!” Bri shook her head against him and a small giggle escaped her. 

“Maybe you’re just braver than me,” Buck grinned, poking her ribs so that she giggled again, louder this time. 

“I am,” Bri declared. 

Buck turned his head and pressed a kiss to her curls.

“Then maybe you better sleep in here tonight, so you can protect me.” And he could make sure that his nightmare didn’t cause her to have one of her own.

“Okay, Daddy,” Bri snuggled down, getting more comfortable, and Buck pulled the blanket up higher so it was tucked under her chin. “I’ll protect you.” 

She was such a sweetheart. Buck didn’t deserve such a perfect little girl. 

“Goodnight, sweetie. Sweet dreams.” 

It didn’t take long before Bri fell into a deep sleep. As soon as she did, Buck reached over and grabbed his phone. 

Buck: Hey. In the morning, would you let me know how Chris is doing? Please?

It was probably selfish to even ask. It was his own fault that he didn’t know, after all. Eddie hadn’t been the one to stop Buck from seeing Christopher: that had been the lawsuit. And Eddie wasn’t the one keeping Buck from Christopher now: that was Buck’s own need to keep Bri protected. 

Now, Buck had had a nightmare that Chris was featured in and wanted to be reassured that the kid who he hadn’t spent any time with lately was okay. 

It was definitely selfish. 

Not that it changed anything. Selfish or not, Buck needed to know. 

He was just settling down again, after placing his phone back on the nightstand, when it pinged with an incoming text. 

Surprised and nervous — silently hoping that this wouldn’t be Eddie telling him off for waking him in the middle of the night with this — Buck picked the phone back up. 

Eddie: [image]

It was a photo of Christopher, sleeping soundly in his bed. He was stretched across the bed on his stomach, legs and arms splayed at what Buck thought looked like uncomfortable angles. 

He was safe. 

Buck: Thank you. Seriously. And sorry for waking you.

Eddie didn’t text again, but Buck was eternally grateful for the photo. 

Eddie had received Buck’s text in the middle of the night and gotten out of bed to take a photo of his son just to ease Buck’s mind. It gave Buck hope that maybe he hadn’t broken his relationships beyond repair.  

***

Breakfast had just ended when a knock came at the front door. 

Illogically, Buck had a moment of panic and desperate hope that it was Eddie and Christopher dropping by after the previous night’s texts. Buck missed the Diaz boys so much, but a single photo text from Eddie wasn’t enough to remove Buck’s concerns about anyone from the 118 interacting with Bri right now. 

Before his emotions could run away with him, reality set back in. The only member of the 118 that knew that Buck had moved, let alone where he was living, was Bobby. And there was no way that he would drop by to see Buck anytime soon. 

Not with how he was still treating Buck with that polite distance, as if Buck was a stranger to him. 

Buck shook off the melancholy that was threatening to set in and crossed the room to answer the door. 

“Tommy?” Buck lit up as the sight of his new friend washed away the last of the negative emotions. 

Tommy was standing on his door step, wearing a grey henley and holding a pot of African Violets in one hand and a six pack of an IPA that Buck was unfamiliar with in the other. 

“Hey,” Tommy smiled back at Buck, light and happy, “Sorry to drop by unannounced. I just wanted to thank you for dinner last night.” 

“You never need an invite,” Buck stepped back, holding the door open in silent invitation. 

Tommy stepped inside. 

Taking a guess as to who the flowers were for, Buck called out, “Bri, baby! Guess who’s here?” 

The sound of quick footsteps preceded his daughter’s appearance in the room. She was dressed in white shorts and a tie-dye fuchsia and white tshirt. Buck hadn’t gotten to her hair yet so it was still a riot of curls going in all directions atop her head. 

“Tommy!” Bri shouted excitedly, sliding to a stop beside her dad. 

“Hey, Princess,” Tommy’s smile got impossibly wider, and Buck’s own grin widened in response. “I brought you a present for your new room.” 

He held out the potted flowers. 

Bri stepped forward and buried her nose in them, giving an exaggerated sniff before taking them from Tommy’s hand. 

“They smell so pretty!” 

She held them up to Buck, who dutifully took his own sniff and murmured an appreciative “Mmhm!”

“And these are for you,” Tommy reached behind himself and pulled forward three long stemmed daisies — the stems of which Buck assumed had been tucked into his back pocket. 

He held the daisies and beer out to Buck. 

Buck laughed, taking both. 

“Your flowers are pretty too, Daddy!” 

Buck held them down and let Bri smell them, glancing up at Tommy as he did so, “Thanks. You didn’t need to bring us anything though.” 

Tommy shrugged, “I missed your housewarming.” 

“Didn’t have one,” Buck straightened up and smelled the daisies himself. He tucked his head, embarrassed, when the action made Tommy’s smile turn decidedly fond. 

“All the more reason,” Tommy tilted his head slightly to the side, staring into Buck’s eyes. 

His eyes were even more insanely blue in the morning light than they’d been in the selfies that the man had sent him. Buck wasn’t sure how that was possible. He found himself caught, trying in vain to put a name to the exact shade of blue. 

The term sky blue came to mind. 

Not the color of the sky on a sunny day though. More like the color of the sky after a storm. 

“I–I should probably get these in some water,” Buck could feel his face flushing. 

He gestured Tommy further into the house and led the way toward the kitchen. He used the excuse of searching for a vase, which he knew he didn’t own, to take a moment and collect himself. 

What was wrong with him? 

Tommy was so steady and calm and something about it left Buck feeling completely frazzled by comparison. He couldn’t stop acting like an idiot in front of this man. 

Buck pulled an empty beer bottle from the night before out of his recycling bin and washed it out, then filled it with water and placed the daisies in it. He deposited the makeshift vase on the kitchen windowsill, turning the label to face away from the room. 

Pleased with the make-shift vase, he turned back towards the dining room, where he’d left Tommy and Bri. He was just in time to see Bri take off with quick steps, calling behind her that she was finding a home for her new flowers too. 

Buck shook his head, smiling as he turned back to Tommy. 

Tommy was watching Bri disappear down the hall to her room. His smile looked deservedly self-satisfied. 

“Thank you, again, for the flowers and the beer,” Buck called Tommy’s attention back to himself. 

Tommy shrugged one shoulder, “I know it’s probably too fast, me coming back again after dinner last night. I can head out. But first…” 

Tommy stepped around the counter into the kitchen, walking up to Buck. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an EpiPen, holding it out to the younger man in offering. 

“You probably won’t ever need it, but just in case. If nothing else, I thought it could ease your mind a bit.” 

Buck stared at the man in awe. 

No one had ever done anything like this for him before. 

In better days, Maddie and the 118…they would have listened to Buck spiral and worry about his daughter. Maddie, Bobby, Hen, they would have even given him advice and helped Buck to figure out what he needed to do or where he was overreacting. Eddie and Chim would have listened and then offered him a distraction in the form of a joke or something to do. Eddie would probably have also commemorated and opened up about his own parental fears. 

But this…

Tommy had listened to him spiral and had offered him comfort and reassurance. Then he’d gone home and thought about everything Buck had said and intentionally made the decision to jump in and help ease the burden of worries on Buck’s shoulders. 

He hadn’t waived off the fears about allergies as overreacting — even though Buck knew he probably was. Instead, he had gone out of his way to somehow obtain an EpiPen, without a prescription, and come back and offer it to Buck. 

He found a way to help protect Bri, even knowing it would probably never be needed, and eased Buck’s fears in the process.

“How…? That’s…” Buck shook his head, “You really did this for us?” 

He couldn’t shake the awe he felt towards the other man at that moment. 

“Of course,” Tommy shrugged again, visibly embarrassed. 

Buck reached out and took the EpiPen, opening his mouth to thank Tommy again, but what came out instead was, “Stay.” 

“What?” Tommy chuckled, confused. 

“I’m off today. If you’re free, and-and you want to…” Buck realized he might be imposing on Tommy’s day. The man had only stopped by to drop off a few gifts. No matter how amazing they were, it didn’t necessarily mean that Tommy wanted to dedicate any more time here. 

“I’d like that.” 

Buck was pretty sure that his smile could be seen from the International Space Station. His cheeks hurt from how wide it was. “Good.” 

With impeccable timing, Bri chose that moment to return from her bedroom. She was stumbling a little, awkwardly carrying a clear vinyl bag filled with the wooden tea set that Buck had gotten her. 

Tommy quickly moved to relieve her of the bag and Buck took the moment to store the EpiPen with his wallet and keys in the bowl on a shelf beside the door. 

“Daddy, come have a tea party with us!” Bri patted the table. 

Buck joined them, thanking Tommy as he passed him a cup, saucer, and spoon. 

“What kind of tea are we having?” Buck asked as he held out the cup for Bri to ‘fill’ with the imaginary tea. 

“It’s a surprise,” Bri pretended to pour tea into Tommy’s cup as well, then returned to her seat and hovered the kettle over her own cup, “But it’s really yummy!” 

Dutifully, Buck and Tommy both pretended to take a sip and let out appreciative noises. 

“I tricked you!” Bri dropped her cup and pointed at the two men. Her cackle was worthy of any Disney villain, “You drank my magic potion and it…um…” She paused and thought, then shouted, “turned you into animals!” 

“Oh no,” Tommy deadpanned, throwing his hand up and pressing the back of his wrist against his forehead. 

A smirk was pulling at his mouth and Bri giggled. 

“Animals can’t talk! Shhhh!” She waved him to silence. 

Tommy shared a look with Buck, who was doing his best not to burst into giggles of his own. 

“Daddy, you’re a doggy now. And-and Tommy is a…lemur!” 

Tommy paused, looking unsure, then pushed his shoulders back and beat his chest. He let out a few grunts that were decidedly not lemur-like. 

“That’s not a lemur, that’s a gorilla!” Bri laughed.

Buck raised an eyebrow, his eyes drawn to the muscles that were visible under Tommy’s shirt. Tommy had the muscle mass to pull off the larger animal. 

Tommy caught him looking and winked. Buck flushed. 

“What sounds do lemurs make?” he stage-whispered to Buck, leaning closer and putting a hand up to cover his mouth as he spoke. 

“I think they’re mostly squeaky,” Buck whispered back, snickering. 

“Animals can’t talk,” Bri repeated, exasperated. 

She stared at them expectantly until Buck let his tongue lull out of his mouth and panted, dropping to the floor and onto his hands and knees. He turned in a circle, then let out a yip. 

He could just hear Tommy’s snort over the sound of Bri’s laughter. He yipped again. 

Bri turned to Tommy, her look demanding that he join in the game.

Tommy slid gracefully from his chair and did a pose, arms out and bent at the elbow with one hand pointed up and the other down. He threw his head back and bobbed his chin, making vaguely monkey-sounding noises to a beat like a song. 

Buck didn’t recognize it, but clearly Bri did cause she nearly fell out of her own chair laughing. 

“King Julien!” 

Buck gave a confused huff and shook his head and shoulders. He trotted up to Bri and yipped again, leaning his head in for her to give him a scratch above his ear. When she stopped scratching, Buck leaned up and pressed his front two “paws” against her chair for balance and stuck out his tongue. He made a slurp sound as he mimed licking her cheek. 

“Ew, bad doggy!” Bri wiped away non-existent saliva with her arm. 

Buck let out a whimper and dropped back to all fours, letting his shoulders droop and giving her his best sad-eyed pout. 

Heartlessly, she repeated “Bad bad bad” and shook her finger at him. 

Buck’s whimpering cut off as lemur-Tommy made a disapproving sounding snort and bared his teeth at Bri, chastizing, while he ran his hand roughly down Buck’s back. Buck gave a happy yip and pounced, knocking Tommy down and proceeding to mime licking his face as well. 

Tommy’s poor imitation of a lemur broke as he burst out laughing. 

That didn’t stop Buck though. He climbed half onto Tommy, pressing his hands against Tommy’s chest and leaning his weight on the man. He arched his back, tilted his head back, and let out his best howl. 

“Okay, okay, you’re human again!” Bri was laughing and covering her ears with one hand while waving her tea spoon at the adults like a magic wand. 

Buck sat back on his heels, removing his weight from the other man. 

“Oh good, cause Tommy makes an awful lemur!” He chuckled. 

Tommy shook his head and sat up as well, “Whereas, you make a disturbingly good dog.” 

Buck turned to look at Bri and pouted, “Yet someone called me a bad doggy.” 

His little girl gave the world’s most innocent smile. 

***

They spent the rest of the morning playing. 

They pretended to drink tea and occasionally acted the part of whatever animal Bri shouted that they’d been turned into. 

Once the tea party game started to bore Bri — which took a lot longer than Buck would have thought — they colored while Bri told them stories that she made up about the pictures. 

When lunch rolled around, Bri and Tommy unanimously agreed to eat in the living room and bullied Buck into watching Madagascar with them so that he could understand the King Julien reference. Buck still maintained that Tommy was an awful lemur. Bri wanted to know all about real lemurs and if they had kings, and the three of them made plans to investigate the zoo soon to visit the lemurs there. 

Near the end of the movie, her interrupted sleep from the night before caught up with her and Bri nodded off on the couch with her feet on Tommy’s lap and her head on Buck’s. 

Buck picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. He woke her up just enough that she was able to get her pull-ups on, then gently directed her into bed. 

As he was turning to leave, Buck glanced at the nightstand beside the bed. Beside her astronaut nightlight sat the African Violets that Tommy had gifted her. Buck gently touched one of the petals and smiled. 

He slipped out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him, and found Tommy still sitting on the couch, looking at his phone. 

“Hey,” Buck quietly announced his presence. 

Tommy looked up and gave him a warm smile, “Hey.” 

“I-I wanted to thank you, for everything. For today. Yesterday,” Buck took a deep breath, “For the past week talking to me on the phone. It’s meant a lot.” 

The past two weeks had simultaneously been some of the best and most stressful of his life. Even just having someone to text and talk with on the phone had helped. Now that Tommy was hanging out in person, seeing him play with Buck’s daughter, receiving the care and support that he effortlessly gave…It meant the world to Buck. 

“So it wasn’t too much? My dropping by again?” Tommy stood and walked around the couch, resting the weight of one hip against the back of it. 

Buck took a step forward, closer to the other man, “Absolutely not. I’m glad you did.” 

“Good,” Tommy nodded. “I wasn’t sure, given your situation. I know having a kid complicates things.” 

Buck tilted his head, confused, “She adores you, you know.” 

“And what about her dad?” Tommy stood up straight, bringing him closer to Buck. 

“I think you’re alright,” Buck grinned, mischievous. 

Tommy chuckled, “On that note, I should get going. I have a shift tonight.” 

Buck nodded before the words even registered, then paused. His brows furrowed as he thought back over all their texts, calls, and conversations. 

“What do you do for work?” He wasn’t sure how they’d managed not to talk about their jobs yet. Buck usually didn’t go 5 minutes after meeting someone new without mentioning what he did for a living. 

Of course, these days, his job wasn’t the most exciting thing in his life anymore. 

“I’m a firefighter pilot for the LAFD,” Tommy said nonchalantly. 

The breath burst out of Buck in a surprised laugh, “Really? That’s so cool!” 

Tommy smirked, “It’s probably not as glamorous as you’re imagining.” 

Buck shook his head, still laughing, “No, it’s exactly as glamorous as I’m imagining. I’m a firefighter too. Not a pilot though.” 

Tommy’s eyes widened and his spine straightened, “Evan.” 

“No, really! I’m at the 118.” 

“The 118?” Tommy shook his head, “That’s my old house. I just saw Howie this morning, after I texted him about needing that EpiPen.” 

And just like that, the reality of Buck’s situation came crashing back again. Buck’s laughter died and he was pretty sure his face paled, given the way Tommy suddenly looked concerned. 

“Evan?” 

“They, uh–” Buck swallowed hard. “They don’t know about—”

Tommy’s face lost all expression and his body went tense, “I didn’t out you, Evan. I never mentioned your name, since I didn’t know you knew each other.” 

Tommy probably thought Buck was the worst person ever, keeping his child a secret from his friends and coworkers. 

“Th-thanks,” Buck forced himself to push forward, to explain, “It’s just, things at work have been complicated lately and at first I didn’t know how to tell them. Then, I was afraid about what they’d say to Bri, you know.”

Tommy shook his head, “I understand taking your time to tell them, but they would never say anything negative in front of Bri. Hell, Hen would have their heads if they even considered it.” 

Hen was a great mom. But it wasn’t about what they’d say as much as what Bri would pick up from their tone.

“No, you’re right. I know,” Buck sighed, “I just…I messed everything up with the lawsuit and—”

“Lawsuit?” Tommy interrupted. 

Shame weighed down on him again and Buck hung his head. This was his fault. He’d brought it up and now he had to explain and Tommy would know exactly how selfish Buck really was. 

“Y-yeah,” Buck’s voice had fallen into barely more than a whisper. Every word was forced out with reluctance, “It, uh, started with the bombing earlier this year. I got pinned under the ladder truck and was out for five months recovering and then getting back into shape. And I did it! I even broke records during my recertification.  But then I had a pulmonary embolism and then there were the blood thinners and being on the pier when the tsunami hit and even when the doctors cleared me again, Bobby wouldn’t let me come back. So I—I sued the city and Bobby and made them give me my job back.”

The silence dragged until Buck couldn’t stand it anymore. He lifted his eyes off the floor and finally looked at Tommy again. 

Tommy was staring at Buck, his mouth open and eyebrows nearly at his hairline. 

“Evan.” 

That seemed to be all the other man was capable of saying, and Buck sighed and let his gaze fall again, “I know I messed up. It was selfish and—“

“I don’t give a shit about the lawsuit,” Tommy interrupted him. He stepped forward and Buck raised his head just as Tommy’s hands landed on Buck’s shoulders, “Are you okay?”

Buck blinked, confused, “Yeah. The doctors cleared me. I’m actually in the best physical condition of my life.”

“Alright,” Tommy dragged the word out, “But are you okay?” When Buck was still clearly lost, Tommy continued, “You’ve had a lifetime’s worth of trauma in less than a year and found out you are a father and taken custody of your daughter.”

“I wouldn’t say trauma…”

Tommy raised an eyebrow and stared Buck down. 

“Okay,” Buck caved, “Yeah. It’s, uh, it’s been a lot. That’s probably why I was dumb enough to trust Mackey when he brought up suing for wrongful termination.”

Tommy’s hands slid from Buck’s shoulders down to his biceps and back up, “Look, I clearly don’t know the whole story here, but you are not dumb.”

“I wish my team agreed. I’ve been benched since the city settled and forced the department to take me back.” 

Tommy looked confused, “I thought the doctors cleared you?”

“They did. But, no one really trusts me anymore,” Buck admitted, crestfallen. “Which I get. I betrayed them. It was selfish—”

Tommy cut him off again. 

“Selfish and self-preservation are two different things,” Tommy’s voice was soft and reassuring, the same way it had been last night when he’d assured Buck that he was doing well as a father. “I don’t know if you went about it the right way, and I’d really like the whole story in detail some day, but it sounds like you were fighting for yourself and what you needed. That’s self-preservation, not selfishness.”

Buck was pretty sure Tommy was the only one who thought so. 

“Whatever you call it, it doesn’t change that everyone is mad at me now,” Buck bit his lip, unwilling to allow Tommy to let him off the hook. “I told Mackey things that were personal, and he threw it all back in their faces.” 

“Whatever you did, whatever you said,” Tommy's hands tightened on Buck, “I’ve done or said worse. I know what it is to have regrets, but they forgave me. They’ll forgive you.” 

Buck remembered the photo that Eddie had texted him in the middle of the night. 

“I miss them,” Buck admitted. “I see them every shift, but nothing has been the same. My whole life has changed and I’ve been dying to tell them, but I just can’t. Not while everything is so messed up.” 

“You’ve got to do what’s right for you, and it sounds like you have been. Give it time. They’ll come around.” 

Buck nodded, then took a deep breath and shook himself, “I’m sorry. You said you needed to go and I dragged you back into my problems.” 

Tommy dragged Buck into a quick hug, then stepped back and toward the door, “I do have to go. Otherwise I’d stay and address that comment. And make you fill in the details of everything. Guess we’ll just have to talk more over dinner another night.” 

Buck smiled shyly, feeling exposed after all that had been said so far. But Tommy still wanted to hang out with him, and that was something. “Th-That sounds good.”

Tommy nodded, looking reluctant to leave, “Tell Bri I said bye.” 

Buck nodded and stepped towards the door too, following Tommy as he hovered there. 

“Stay safe.” 

“Mm-hmm,” Tommy agreed. “Text me later?” 

Buck smiled, “Absolutely. We still need to plan a date for our zoo trip.” 

They stared at each other. 

Finally, Tommy gave a final, “Okay, I’m going now.” 

He gave Buck another quick hug, then turned and left. Buck waved from the doorway as the other man got into his truck and backed out of the driveway.

Chapter Text

Buck shut his locker and stepped back. He turned to prop his foot up on the bench and leaned down to tie his boot. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Eddie tucking in his shirt. 

“Thanks. For sending me that picture the other night.” Buck tried to keep his tone casual. 

Eddie looked up, scrutinizing. His eyes were warmer than they’d been in weeks. 

“Nightmare?” 

Buck winced. “Yeah. Sorry I woke you up.” 

Eddie’s expression softened further. Just enough to be noticeable. 

“Chris has been having them too. I’ve been taking him to a child psychologist to talk about them.”

“He, uh, he’s been having nightmares?” 

It made sense. If Buck was having them as an adult, of course Christopher was having them too. It’s just that Buck had tried so hard to shield Chris from the worst parts of the tsunami. He’d played games with him and did his best to make sure the kid didn’t see the bodies in the water. 

But what had Chris seen after Buck lost him? 

“Yeah. He’s been dreaming about Shannon drowning,” Eddie folded his arms across his chest, obviously uncomfortable even though he was the one to bring up his late wife. He hesitated a moment, gathering himself, before he continued, “He misses you.” 

“I miss him too,” Buck whispered. 

God he missed that kid. He kept thinking of what it would be like to introduce him and Bri. Whether they’d get along as well as he thought they would. They were both such great kids and they both meant the world to Buck 

“Maybe you could pick him up, spend a day with him on our next day off?” 

It was offered like an olive branch, and Buck ached with the desire to accept. 

But then what? 

He couldn’t introduce Christopher to Bri without Eddie also finding out about her. 

The urge to tell Eddie now, when he was starting to thaw to Buck, was nearly overpowering. But what would happen if he did? 

He couldn’t tell Eddie without the whole of the 118 and Maddie finding out. Maddie finding out would probably also mean his parents finding out. 

Buck was pretty sure that they’d all be thrilled at first, happy to meet a new (and absolutely adorable) member of their extended family. 

But once the surprise and delight over his little girl wore off, they’d remember that Buck was Buck. His parents would remember that they couldn’t stand him. His sister and Bobby would remember that they didn’t trust him to make decisions about his own body or career, so how could they trust him to make decisions about a daughter? 

They’d all remember that he was selfish and irresponsible — Buck pushed aside the memory of a warm voice insisting that selfishness and self-preservation were different. 

Bri would pick up on all of that. She’d see them questioning him, doubting him, angry with him. She’d feel their judgement and disappointment in Buck as if it was pointed at her, because she had so much empathy that even at four years old, she couldn’t miss it. 

All Buck wanted in the world was for her to know them, but knowing them right now would hurt her. 

Which meant that spending time with Christopher and Bri at the same time was impossible for now. So, in order to see Chirstopher, Buck would have to have Zoey babysit Bri so that Buck could spend time away from her. He had already missed so much time with Bri, and he wasn’t sure he could voluntarily give up more time; not even a single day off. 

But where did that leave Christopher? The kid was missing his mother and his friend and was having nightmares. Buck wanted to be there for him. 

But being there for one kid right now meant not being there for the other. 

Maybe he could take Chris for just a part of the day. Take him to a movie, or to the aquarium for just a few hours. Or maybe Eddie could have Carla bring him to the station for dinner with the whole team, and Buck could visit with Chris and Carla both. Maybe…

He’d hesitated too long, and Eddie’s face hardened again, “Or not. Wouldn’t want to unduly burden you, or anything.” 

Eddie dropped his arms and stiffly stormed from the room, pausing at the door when Buck called out. 

“I do want to see him! I love Chris, you know that,” Buck was begging, but he didn’t care, “It’s just that…” Buck trailed off because there was nothing he could say that would make this better. 

“Just…Just call him, Buck,” Eddie kept his back to the room, his voice angry and resigned. “Call Carla and talk to him. If that’s not too much to ask.” 

Eddie left and Buck sagged against the lockers, the back of his head thumping less than gently against them. 

So much for Eddie thawing toward him.

He closed his eyes and sighed. Everything had gotten so complicated lately. Buck was pretty sure he was failing on numerous fronts, no matter how hard he tried.  

“Well that could have gone better,” Chimney observed from where he’d been getting ready for the shift at his own locker. 

“You think?” 

Chimney crossed the room to lean against the locker next to Buck, facing him. 

“What is going on with you lately, Buckaroo?” 

Buck opened his eyes to look at the other man. Chimney was staring at him, determined and concerned. 

“I know it’s been a lot,” Chimney continued, “Being back here. Being man-behind every shift. But the way you’ve been acting hasn’t been helping anything.” 

Buck bit his lip, frustrated, “I’ve been doing my job. As much as I’m allowed, anyway.” 

“I’m not talking about the job. You’ve done everything Bobby’s asked of you. I’m talking about you,” he reached out and poked Buck square in the chest, “You’ve been distant. Touchy. Distinctly lacking that Buckley shine that we know and love. And I get it. I do. You were seriously injured and you fought your ass off to get back here and hit every road block along the way. But you’re back now…”

“Am I?” Buck interrupted. “Because it doesn’t feel like it.” 

“You think you’re the first guy to be stuck man-behind for weeks on end?” Chimney shook his head, serious in a way that Buck wasn’t used to from him, “When I first joined the 118, they didn’t let me out of the station for months. ” 

Buck straightened up and turned to square off with Chimney, “It’s not just about being kept out of the field. I’m not sitting around here…pouting, or whatever you all think. I have a lot going on right now.” 

“Alright,” Chimney held his hands up, indicating he wasn’t looking for a fight, “Enlighten me then. What is going on with you?” 

“It–it’s personal,” Buck sighed again because he knew how that sounded. 

“So what?” Chimney asked, “Since when don’t you tell us the personal stuff?” 

A year ago, Buck would have told him everything. 

As far as they were concerned, Buck basically did tell everyone at the station everything about his life. They knew when he had a hookup, when he had a crush, when he started dating. They knew when he met his weight lift goals, when he was doing a detox or fast. They knew as soon as he reconnected with his sister. 

Before the firetruck bombing, Buck had a new girlfriend, a new loft, a newish best friend. He had a simple life with no real responsibility other than himself and his job. Buck before the bombing was comparatively stress free and unburdened. 

Of course he told them everything. 

That Buck didn’t have the memory of searing pain causing him to scream his throat raw, or of wandering for miles through a devastated city filled with bodies looking for a lost child and praying that he was still alive. 

He didn’t have blood thinners and a leg that still ached when he got over-tired or cold. 

He didn’t have a child waiting at home, who was still finding her rhythm in a brand new life with new people. 

He was a new Buck now: Buck 3.0; and all Buck 3.0 had was one precious, vulnerable, little girl that he would give anything, do anything, to protect. 

“Since now, I guess,” Buck turned and headed out of the room, just catching Chimney’s last comment. 

“If you’re looking to mend things around here, maybe start with that chip on your shoulder!” 

***

“Buck!” Christopher grinned on camera, almost vibrating with his excitement. 

As soon as the team had gone on their first call of the day, Buck had texted Carla and asked to Facetime with Chris. It had only taken a few minutes, during which Carla was confirming permission with Eddie, before his phone rang with the incoming video call. 

“Hey, Superman!” Buck already felt lighter, seeing the boy’s smiling face. “How are you doing?” 

“Good,” Chris tilted his head to the side and smiled his widest smile, “I’ve missed you, Buck. When are you coming over again?” 

Buck swallowed hard, “I’m not sure at the moment. But I’ve been missing you a ton too.”

They spent nearly an hour talking, while Buck did the dishes from breakfast and started a pot of chili cooking for lunch. 

Christopher caught him up on everything he’d been doing at school, the new worlds he had built in Minecraft, and how far his PT had come. Carla chimed in from time to time, about new favorite meals and teasing Chris about a girl in his class, but mostly she just let the two of them catch up. 

When the engines were backing back into the station, Buck said goodbye and ended the call. He felt lighter than he had in a while. 

***

The team tumbled out of the engine covered in sweat and ash and Buck rushed forward with a rolling basket to collect their turnouts, boots, and helmets. They stripped them off, dumping them into the basket, some giving Buck a nod as they did so, but most ignoring him. 

Buck watched as the group slumped toward the shower rooms. 

He turned back to the basket, wheeling it to a bench against the wall and hopping up onto a stool. 

One by one, Buck pulled out boots and helmets to clean and shine. Then he moved on to the turnouts, checking over each for any damage before he’d set to cleaning them. He made a mental list as he worked, reminding himself to replace oxygen tanks and check masks in the engines. 

He may not be able to have the team’s back in the field, but he could still look out for them in small ways. 

***

Buck had just finished washing the ladder truck and was moving to start drying it when his phone pinged multiple times in a row. He’d been trying to do better about not looking at his phone when the team was at the station, but multiple texts in a row had him worried about Bri. 

When he pulled out his phone, it wasn’t Zoey texting about his daughter, but a series of texts from Tommy. 

Buck unlocked the phone and found multiple photos. The first was a blurry photo of Tommy, reaching out and trying to get his phone back from someone else. Then there was a blurry photo of someone’s legs and heavy boots. Then a photo of the front of a stationary helicopter, with the corner of Tommy’s head peaking into the bottom of the photo. Then a photo of the phone-thief’s hand reaching out and pressed against Tommy’s face, someone else’s arms wrapped around Tommy’s bicep and dragging him backwards. 

There was a short break in texts before a new photo came in, this one taken from further away. It showed the arm of the phone-thief stretched out with a hand flipping off an out-of-focus Tommy, who was standing in the distance in front of the helicopter, hands on his hips. Even out of focus, Tommy was obviously glaring at the person taking the photo. 

The next photo to come in was more staged and completely in focus. The phone-thief’s arm was gone, but Tommy was still standing in front of the helicopter. He was wearing a flight suit, with the top pulled down and tied around his waist. He had a white t-shirt on and his arms were folded across his chest. He had a forced-looking smile on his face. 

Tommy: Sorry, we tried. Your boy is a bad-tempered model. 

Buck snorted, cheeks aching as he tried to keep his face blank and not draw attention. 

Buck: lmfao. I don’t know. That last one looks pretty good to me.

There was a longer pause this time, then Buck received another photo. 

In this one, Tommy had the flight suit done up fully and he was sitting in the helicopter, but turned in the chair so his body was facing the open door. He was leaning forward, one arm on his knee and now he looked more amused than grumpy. 

Buck waited, and within another minute his phone pinged again. 

Tommy: This is Tommy again. My phone has been returned. 

Tommy: Sorry about my idiot coworkers. I refused to give them any details about you and this was their retaliation. 

Buck chuckled. 

Buck: Glad to see you’re having a good shift. 

Tommy: If I’m arrested for murder at some point today, I expect you to testify that it was justified.

Buck: What do I get if I agree?

Tommy: … Anything you’d like. Within reason. 

Buck: Hmm. I’ll have to consider my options. 

***

Hen stood at the doors of the ambulance, clipboard in hand and checking off items as she handed them to Buck, who was inside the ambulance, to restock. 

Normally, Hen and Chimney did this task together. The fact that Hen had asked him to team up with her today for the restock had Buck on edge, waiting for the inquisition. 

At least it didn’t take long. 

Hen handed Buck three boxes of sterile 4”x4” pads, “Chim tells me you turned down an offer to spend a day with Christopher?” 

Buck took the pads and placed them on the appropriate shelf, “I didn’t turn it down so much as…I didn’t accept before the offer was taken off the table.” 

Hen raised an eyebrow at him, handing over two rolls of adhesive tape. 

“Okay,” She stretched the word out, “And why is that? Normally you jump at the chance of seeing him.”

Buck stared at the tape in his hands, fiddling with it and wishing he could find a way to explain what was going on in a way that the team would accept, but that wouldn’t put Bri in the spotlight. 

“Stock those,” Hen nodded toward the tape. 

Buck sighed and reached up to add them to the shelf. Hen checked them off the list, then picked up a roll of IV tubing and passed it over. 

“You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to, Buck,” Hen held onto the tubing when Buck reached for it, causing him to look up and meet her eyes, “You have a right to privacy.” 

“But?” Buck asked, knowing that was never the end of it. 

Hen let go of the tubing and Buck placed it in the appropriate drawer as Hen checked it off on her list.

“But,” Hen allowed, voice gentle, “If you aren’t talking to them, and they’re not talking to you, then I don’t know how anything gets better around here.” 

“And I’m the one that messed everything up, so it’s my job to fix it,” Buck’s shoulders drooped, voice resigned. 

“Hey, we all messed it up,” Hen shook her head, “None of us is fully innocent here. It’s not all on you.” 

Buck looked up at her. 

“ But ,” Hen said again, “It sounds like Eddie took a step forward, and you took one backward.” 

“I have my reasons,” Buck wished Hen would hand him something else. He felt exposed with nothing to keep his hands busy or give him an excuse to look away. 

“I don’t doubt that. And they are your reasons. You don’t owe us any part of yourself that you aren’t ready to share.” 

“Then how do I fix this?” Buck gestured toward the loft, where the rest of the team were laughing and watching something on the TV. 

“I wish I could tell you, Buckaroo.” Hen crawled into the ambulance and sat beside him, bumping her shoulder against his. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I want you to promise me that if you need something, you’ll open up. It doesn’t have to be to us, though I’m here if you want. I just don’t want you to shut out the whole world.” 

Buck nodded, “I’m not, I promise.” 

“Good.” 

Hen bumped his shoulder again, then slipped out of the ambulance and picked her clipboard back up. 

***

Buck was sitting on the weight bench, catching his breath and looking at his phone. Zoey had texted him a photo from their park trip that afternoon. 

It was a close up of Bri’s face, her hand held up in front of her and eyes going cross-eyed looking at a tiny snail that was stuck to the end of her index finger. The snail was about the size of her fingernail and Bri looked ecstatic at the little mollusk, dimples in full display

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Bobby asked, pausing where he’d been passing the exercise area. 

Buck locked his phone and placed it face down on his thigh. 

“Sorry, Cap. I was just taking a breather between sets,” He wasn’t good at ignoring his phone, no matter how often he told himself that he needed to. 

Bobby sighed, “You aren’t in trouble, Buck.” 

“That’s not the impression that I got the last time my phone was brought up,” Buck shrugged, standing and slipping the phone into his pocket. 

He moved toward the free weights, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. 

“Let me ask you something, Buck. Why do you think I’ve been keeping you man-behind?” 

Buck turned back around and took a deep breath. So much for that being the end of the conversation. 

“Because I broke your trust, broke everyone’s trust, with the things I told Mackey.” 

It wasn’t like he had lied. Everything he’d told his lawyer had been true and relevant to the case. 

Chimney was allowed to come back to work as soon as his doctors cleared him after two major injuries, the rebar and the stabbing. Eddie was allowed back as soon as Shannon’s funeral was done. Bobby didn’t miss a day after his relapse. 

Yeah, it was all personal information about his team, but it also proved that Buck was being held back unfairly. 

Clearly, the city agreed too, since they settled and allowed Buck back to work. 

Sort of. 

“In part,” Bobby admitted, “But that’s not the whole story. I advised against you returning to the 118 while on blood thinners because I wanted to keep you safe. Your getting injured was on me. Freddie came after the 118 because of decisions I made. I made him a promise that everything would be okay. Then I didn’t wait for the arson investigator to do his job. I had a suspicion and rather than reporting it, I went and investigated myself.”

Bobby stepped closer to Buck, crossing his arms and staring the younger man down, “It is my job to keep my team safe and I didn’t think you were ready to come back. Then you threw a tantrum with the lawsuit and proved to me you weren’t ready.” 

Tommy’s words came back again: self-preservation.

“It wasn’t a tantrum,” Buck bit out. “Yeah, okay, I went to the wrong guy. But I wasn’t wrong to fight. You had no right to make decisions about my future, without even talking to me about them.” 

“You were pushing yourself too hard, Buck,” Bobby threw his arms back down at his side, “You weren’t willing to listen to anybody.” 

“I was listening to my doctors, and they cleared me!”

“Yeah, doctors that don’t know you and didn’t see how you were killing yourself to get back to work.” 

Buck stepped forward, voice raising. “It wasn’t your call! They cleared me—”

“It was my call, which is why the LAFD asked me to make it. You weren’t ready. You clearly still aren’t!” 

“Bobby—”

“No, you don’t get it. I need to—”

“No, you don’t get it!” Buck cried out, loud enough to draw the stares of those around them, “The bomb that crushed me and nearly took everything from me was your salvation! You got to be a hero on live TV and walk away with your head held high and your job secured.” Bobby had been on suspension, and may have been fired if it wasn’t for the news coverage showing him tackling Freddie and getting the kill switch away from him.

“I had to be carried away, and then judged for every decision I made from that day on.” Buck continued, “I got hurt and everyone saw me as a victim and someone to be taken care of and when I got depressed or pushed back, I just became a problem. You say it was your fault, because of the decisions you made, but somehow, I took the blame. It’s me that everyone stopped trusting. Every surgery, scheduling my recertification, wanting to come back at all! Everything I did was in question. That’s why I had to fight. What else was I supposed to do?”

Between having to consider what was in the best interest of his daughter, and the conversations that he had been having with Tommy and even Hen, Buck was starting to see things differently. 

That bomb had taken away every ounce of autonomy Buck had. He couldn’t bathe himself for weeks, couldn’t sleep in his own bed. Just choosing to go to Eddie’s badge ceremony was a fight. And he hadn’t been allowed to make a single decision since that didn’t get scrutinized. 

Maybe he hadn’t responded perfectly, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. Bobby held a lot of blame here too, only he refused to admit to it. 

“Buck—” Bobby stood in front of him, face shocked, and struggling to reply. 

Buck shook his head, “No. Just–just don’t.” 

He turned and walked away, the weight of everyone’s stares on him. 

***

Buck spent the rest of his shift hiding. 

He wasn’t proud of it, but he didn’t have anything left in him. He didn’t think he had the energy to talk to anyone else today. 

So when the team was in the station, Buck hid in the bunks and pretended to nap. 

When the team was out on a call, Buck put on his headphones and did his chores while a podcast played at low volume, keeping Buck from spiraling in his own thoughts too deeply. 

He couldn’t remember a longer shift.

Chapter Text

“Rough shift?” 

Buck set his bag down behind the couch, making a mental note to wash the uniform inside later. “You could say that.” 

Zoey winced in sympathy, “Want me to drop Bri off at daycare today?” 

On the mornings Buck was home for it, he liked to be the one to take his daughter to daycare or to pick her up. Listening to her sing in the car or talk about whatever was on her mind was one of the highlights of Buck’s day, every single time. 

“No, I’ve got her,” Buck smiled, “Thanks though.” 

As had become their routine, Zoey and Buck sat at the kitchen table and had a quick cup of coffee while they went over the details of what Zoey and Bri had been up to while Buck was on shift and how she had slept. Thankfully, nothing of concern had happened and the recap had Buck laughing and finally relaxing as Zoey described his daughter’s antics at the park. 

When their coffees were finished, Zoey said a quick goodbye to Bri before heading home and Buck got his little girl ready for daycare. He was getting better at styling her hair, with the help of a YouTube channel he found for single fathers. Today, he left the bottom half of her hair down and french braided the top half sideways across the top of her head. He secured the braid at her temple with a bow clip and let the rest fan out in curls by her ears. 

“I wanna see!” Bri demanded, as soon as he finished spraying everything in place. 

Buck picked her up and let her stand on the bathroom counter, turning her so she was facing the mirror. 

She was dressed in jeans today, with a purple tank top and grey shoes. Buck stood behind her, one hand around her belly to steady her. He swore she’d gotten taller in just the few weeks that he’d known her. 

Bri leaned forward and looked closely at the braid, “I look so pretty!” 

The statement filled Buck with happiness, “The prettiest.” 

“Yes,” Bri nodded, all dimples. 

Buck grinned and lifted her off the counter to set her on the floor of the bathroom, “Go get your backpack so we aren’t late then, pretty lady.” 

The trip to daycare after that was way too short for Buck’s liking. Bri sat in the back and told him all about the snail she’d found the day before. She’d named it Turbo, from the movie, and was incredibly grumpy that Zoey hadn’t let her take it home. 

She argued that if they went back and found him again, Turbo could come live in the flowers that Tommy had given her. 

“He’d be happy there,” Bri had told him confidently.

“He probably would. But he was so tiny. What if he has a daddy that would miss him?” 

Bri had reluctantly allowed for that possibility and had given up on insisting that they go search the park for her snail friend by the time Buck hugged her and wished her a good day at daycare. 

The loneliness struck Buck as he was climbing back into his now too-quiet Jeep. 

After a shift spent arguing with and then avoiding his friends, maybe he should have just give in and kept Bri home from daycare this once. He didn’t want to start that habit though — not of keeping her home and certainly not of putting the weight of his emotional well-being on his daughter. 

Instead, Buck pulled up the number of the man who was quickly becoming one of Buck’s favorite people. 

“Go for Kinard.” 

“God, you’re a dork,” Buck teased, switching the phone to his stereo so he could talk hands-free. 

“Evan,” Tommy’s voice held a smile and a matching grin pulled at Buck’s mouth. 

“What are you doing right now?” Buck put the Jeep in gear and pulled out of the daycare parking lot. 

“Besides talking to you?” Tommy teased him right back, “Not much. Why?”

Buck gathered his courage. So far, Tommy hadn’t once indicated that he thought of Buck as too much or too needy. But they’d only hung out a few times in person, and all of those had been with Bri present. 

“I just dropped Bri off at daycare. I have a few hours and I was hoping to cash in on those pointers you promised me?” 

The phone went silent just long enough for Buck to start to panic. 

Maybe he was being too much. 

Tommy had been on shift yesterday as well and was probably tired. He’d spent hours with Buck before his shift too. He probably needed a break. He —

“I just texted you my address,” Tommy’s voice came back through his speakers and Buck took a relieved breath, “I have a home gym set up. That work for you?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s great. See you soon.” 

At the next light, Buck pulled up the text Tommy had sent him and turned in the direction of the man’s house. 

He pulled in and parked in the driveway behind Tommy’s truck. Tommy’s garage door was already open and the man himself was pulling some equipment from the garage. 

The garage was a detached, massive, addition that had been built at the end of a long driveway at the back of the lot. Buck could see a car lift and large tool box on the right side of the garage, and a home gym setup on the left side. A sturdy treadmill sat in the middle, dividing the two areas. The flooring of the “gym” was covered with rubber topped padded mats and there was a rack against the back wall that held a barbell and weight plates and a folded up weight bench beneath it. 

In the center of the area was a standing punching bag and all around the edges of the room was other equipment — weighted medicine balls, dumbbells, a reflex bag, resistance bands, yoga mats, and a few other miscellaneous items that Buck couldn’t identify from this distance. 

“Hey,” Buck called out as he approached, impressed as he took it all in.

Tommy stood from where he’d been squatting, connecting battle ropes to an anchor mounted at the right-hand side of his driveway. 

“Hey.” 

Tommy pulled Buck into a hug as soon as he was within arms length and Buck melted into it. 

He loved how openly affectionate Tommy was. Buck was typically a pretty physically affectionate guy, but Tommy took it to a whole new level. 

The older man was wearing an oversized hoodie, with the sleeves and a good portion of the sides cut off. When Buck was pulled in, one arm wrapped around Tommy’s back and his other hand unintentionally landed in the opening of that hoodie, meeting skin and the hard muscle of his obliques below it. 

His skin was warm and the slightest bit damp already from moving around under the hot California sun and Buck could feel just the edge of rougher skin. He wanted to pull back and lift Tommy’s shirt, see the scar that Buck was sure he was feeling. He wanted to know the shape of it and how Tommy had been hurt. 

He wanted to see what his touch was telling him: that the scar was old and healed over. That Tommy wasn’t hurt.

Buck pulled back, just far enough to meet Tommy’s eyes, “Hey.” 

Tommy chuckled, “I’m glad you called.” 

Buck flushed and stepped back further before the wild urge to check Tommy’s skin won out, “Yeah? I know we just saw each other…”

“Mm-hm, and I was trying to come up with a good excuse to drop by yours again,” Tommy’s smile was small and warm, eyes fond. 

Buck licked his lips, pleased. 

“Right, so,” he clapped his hands together, “Where are we starting?” 

“First,” Tommy held up one large finger, “I need to know a few things. It was your leg that got crushed, right?” 

Buck faltered, caught off guard, “Ye-yeah. But it’s fine now!” 

He had a sudden fear of Tommy holding back, only willing to let Buck do cardio or light weight exercise. 

“I believe you,” Tommy nodded, voice and face serious. “You wouldn’t have been able to recertify otherwise.” 

That caused Buck to blink, even more confused now. “Then why…”

“Just because it’s healed, doesn’t mean it can’t be reinjured,” Tommy gave Buck a slow once-over, “Or that you can’t injure something else, if you’re subconsciously guarding the leg. Which leg was it?” 

Trust was something else that the past few months had taken from Buck. Trusting that someone was telling him the truth. Trusting that they trusted him. Trusting that they wouldn’t hold him back. 

Telling Tommy the details of his injury, even now when he was healed, was terrifying. 

Some of that must have shown on his face, because Tommy stepped closer again and dropped a hand onto Buck’s shoulder. 

“I don’t need every detail. I just want to make sure that I’m helping, not hurting.” 

Buck nodded and took a fortifying breath, before taking the leap and admitting in a rush, “Left leg. It was my lower leg and ankle that got crushed, but my knee got some damage as well.”

He thought he’d mentioned the blood thinners to Tommy the other night, but he knew he hadn’t said anything about still being on them. 

He held that bit of information back now too, waiting to see what Tommy did with the details he had just been given, first. 

Tommy nodded, “Do you use a brace? Either on the ankle or the knee?” 

Again, Buck hesitated before deciding on honesty, “When I’m running, I wear a knee brace and compression sock.”

So far, Tommy hadn’t given Buck a reason to doubt him and Buck’s natural instinct had always tilted him toward honesty. All he could do was hope that it didn’t come back to bite him this time. 

Tommy looked down at Buck’s legs. Buck was wearing shorts and long socks, the left pulled up high to hide the surgical scars there, but it wasn’t his compression sock. He hadn’t planned on anyone ever knowing about either the sock or the brace, let alone seeing him wearing them. 

It wasn’t that he was embarrassed by them, exactly. But they were a visible reminder of the injury and he worried that anyone who saw them would assume they were an indicator of weakness and that Buck had lied about being healed. 

“I don’t have any compression socks, but I do have a knee brace you can use,” Tommy’s voice held concern, which caused Buck’s defensive walls to snap back into place. 

“I’m fine. I don’t really need it,” Buck stood straighter, shrugging Tommy’s hand off his shoulder. 

Tommy raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

Buck stared back, refusing to back down. 

“Evan.” 

By this point, Buck had heard Tommy infuse his name with so many different emotions. He’d heard it said in comfort and in fondness. He’d heard it said with amusement. He’d heard it teasing and confused and happy. 

He’d never heard it said in reproach before today though. 

But even now, with the look and tone chastising, Tommy’s voice was gentle. There was no anger or disappointment, and Buck could feel some of his defensiveness ebb at that. 

“We all pull on turnouts before a call,” Tommy held Buck’s gaze, his expression and tone holding a hint of judgemental sassiness, “How is a brace any different?” 

He left the question hanging, no further elaboration needed. He’d made his point with a single statement and question, and he knew it. 

“Okay.” If Buck’s own tone was pouty, Tommy was gracious enough not to call him on it. 

Once the knee brace was in place, they spent the next two hours working out. Tommy directed Buck through exercises that he was less familiar with, and encouraged him to push harder on those that Buck had done a thousand times before. 

They alternated between cardio and strength training. Starting with their arms, then core and back, before finally moving onto legs. 

Buck worried at first, that this was when Tommy would finally start holding Buck back. He anticipated Tommy gently suggesting less strenuous exercises, or lower weights. He thought Tommy would hover. 

It didn’t happen. 

There was no side-eye when Buck selected his weights. No light tsk when he repeated each set until his muscles failed and he couldn’t complete another rep. No suggestions that Buck was pushing himself too hard or endangering himself. 

Instead, Tommy treated the leg workouts exactly as he had the rest of the body. 

He let Buck choose his own limits. He encouraged Buck when he got tired, spotted him when he needed it, and offered suggestions only on his form. 

Then he came back with suggestions for new exercises that Buck was less familiar with: standing barbell calf raises, dumbbell Bulgarian split squats, tiptoe farmer’s walk…

Tommy never said anything, but it didn’t take Buck long to put it together. Each exercise was designed specifically to strengthen the calf and ankle. Buck had exposed his weak points to Tommy and instead of holding him back, the other man made a point to help Buck strengthen them. All without comment or judgement. 

By the time they finished their workout, they were both breathing heavy and covered in sweat. 

When Tommy made a vague reference to teaching Buck the basics of Muay Thai the next time they worked out together, Buck didn’t hesitate to offer up the last bit of vulnerability. “Before we give that a go, you should probably know that I’m still on blood thinners.” 

Tommy hesitated only a moment, before he tentatively offered, “I can still teach you the basics and we can do a little sparring, but I think we should keep the sparring to light contact only until you’re off the blood thinners. Agreed?” Tommy’s eyes held nothing but support and understanding and Buck nodded his agreement with a smile, using a towel to wipe sweat from the back of his neck. 

His muscles ached in a way that Buck identified with healing and strength and the simple act of working himself to this state next to someone again had Buck feeling more fulfilled than he had in months. 

“What time do you pick up Bri?” Tommy asked as Buck did a final stretch. 

He checked his watch, “In about an hour and a half.” 

He’d need to leave in just over an hour to give himself enough time to drive to the daycare and still arrive early. When he was a kid, he’d always been one of the last children to be picked up and he remembered the feeling that left him with — as if he was his parents' lowest priority, nothing more than an obligation that they couldn’t escape. 

He made it a point to always be one of the first parents to arrive to pick up Bri, and asked Zoey to do the same when Buck was on shift. 

“Good. That gives us just enough time for showers and shakes,” Tommy tilted his head toward the garage opening. “Come on, you can borrow some clothes so you don’t stink so bad that Bri refuses to get in the car with you.” 

Buck laughed and followed Tommy along the stone path that led to the back door of his house. 

Tommy’s house was nothing like Buck would have expected. It was large and cozy and bright in a way that seemed to contrast with the more utilitarian and masculine setup of the garage. 

It reminded Buck that this was a man who loved Rom-Coms and who crawled around on the floor giggling with Buck’s four year old. 

The back door opened between the kitchen on the left, and the dining room on the right. The kitchen was large and open, with cabinets all along the walls, granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and an island in the middle. 

The walls of the house were a deep blue-gray, with striped woven rugs covering the warm wood flooring beneath the table in the dining room and beneath the coffee table in the living room. 

Buck could see a soft caramel-toned sofa covered with patterned pillows and a lamb-skin throw sitting next to a pale yellow armchair and a cushioned leather trunk that seemed to serve the dual purpose of storage and ottoman. The coffee table was a short, pine table with thick legs painted the same blue-gray as the walls and there were multiple books stacked on the shelf below it. 

All the wood accents in the house seemed to be pine. 

The cupboards in the kitchen were pine, and a pine table with seafoam green painted chairs toped in cream-colored embroidered cushions took up the dining area. A pine cabinet holding stereo equipment and a Playstation sat below the tv in the living room and built-in pine bookshelves took up the furthest wall next to the front door. The bookshelves were filled with movies, books, and small trinkets that Buck itched to explore. 

The whole house was full of plants, on the bookshelf, on the side table by the armchair, even above the cupboards in the kitchen. 

Windows with shear curtains took up most of the wall behind the dining table and the couch. 

The photos on the other walls and in frames on various surfaces were what caught Buck’s attention the most. Some were of Tommy and what were obviously his coworkers. Others were artistic shots of helicopters, old cars, and even some antique maps. 

The whole house felt earthy, comfortable, and full of life. 

“Wow,” Buck whispered, looking around. 

He caught Tommy blushing out of the corner of his eye. 

“I’ve been remodeling it since I inherited it from my grandfather,” Tommy admitted. “The garage and these rooms are basically finished, but I’m still working on the bedrooms and the yard. I have plans to build a deck off the back.” 

Tommy’s hand came up to rub at the back of his neck, opening the slit in the side of his hoodie further and flashing just the hint of that scar Buck was curious about. 

“It looks amazing!” Buck wandered through the living room to the bookshelves and explored the titles there. 

Unsurprisingly, a lot of the movies were romantic comedies that Buck was unfamiliar with. But there were also some DVDs of MMA fights, a few Disney and Pixar movies, and complete collections of the Fast and Furious, Star Wars, and Highlander sat next to the extended editions of Lord of the Rings. 

“Come on,” Tommy pulled Buck away from the shelves before he made it to the books, “We’re on a time limit here.” 

He led down the hallway that extended off the living room, indicating a closet directly across from the hall bathroom for Buck to pull out fresh towels and washcloths while Tommy excused himself back towards the kitchen and through to his own room to gather some clothes for Buck to borrow. 

He returned a moment later, placing the folded clothes on top of the towel Buck now held. 

“How many rooms does this place have?” Buck asked, eyeing three closed doors at the end of the hall. The master bedroom was down another hall and directly behind the kitchen. 

“Four. I have one setup as an office, but the others are basically storage at the moment,” Tommy admitted. “Eventually, I’m going to knock out some walls to extend the master bathroom and combine the two rooms on the end into one larger room with a walk-in closet. I haven’t gotten that far yet though.”

Buck shook his head, astounded all over again at both the house, and at how completely competent and imaginative Tommy was. Buck had worked construction before, but he’d never been able to walk into a house and reimagine the layout to create something new. 

“One of the first things I did when I moved in,” Tommy continued, pulling them back on track, “was update the plumbing and water heater in the house, so we should be good with pressure and hot water. I’ll be in the master bathroom, but I’m quick, so shout if you need anything.” 

They parted ways to their respective bathrooms and Buck set the clothing on the counter and hung up the towel. 

He made quick work of stripping down and showering away the sweat that he’d built up during their workout, eager to get back to Tommy and the promised protein shake. 

He stepped out of the shower and quickly patted his hair with the towel to absorb some of the moisture, before drying his skin and wrapping it around his waist. He turned to the clothing folded on the counter and picked up the red t-shirt from the top of the stack. 

Before he had a chance to pull it on, his eyes fell to the article of clothing that had been hidden under it and the shirt slipped from his suddenly numb fingers. 

Folded neatly between the t-shirt and dark gray athletic shorts were a soft pair of cotton boxer briefs. 

Buck’s mind went blank. 

Borrowing clothing from a friend was one thing. But borrowing underwear? Surely that was crossing some unspoken line, wasn’t it? 

Then again, Tommy had included it in the pile of clothing, so the other man clearly didn’t mind. 

Or had he grabbed the underwear out of habit and wasn’t even aware he’d done it? 

Buck had been planning on slipping his own damp boxers back on under the borrowed clothes — because one thing Buck knew was that you didn’t go commando in another man’s shorts. It wasn’t exactly a thought he had been looking forward to though. 

Now that he was clean, the idea of fresh boxers was more than a little appealing. 

Buck picked up the underwear from the pile. They were older, worn to butter-soft, but without any holes or fraying. 

It didn’t matter, right? They were clean and there was nothing shocking or disrespectful or whatever about wearing the clothing when Tommy had offered it. 

Right? 

Too much time considering underwear options was starting to create a familiar warmth low in Buck’s belly, and he decided it was time to stop thinking before he made the whole situation way more inappropriate than was called for. 

Buck let his towel drop and slid one leg into the boxers.

An image of Tommy, wearing nothing but these same soft boxer briefs, flashed in Buck’s mind and he pushed the thought away as quickly as it had arrived. 

No thinking. It was fine. 

He pulled the boxers up, then quickly covered them with the athletic shorts, as if hiding them from site would block out the confused arousal coursing through his veins. 

Buck picked the shirt up off the floor, where it had fallen, and pulled that on as well. Then he hung the towel over the shower rod to dry. 

He moved in front of the mirror and attempted to tame his hair. 

His hair had gotten longer over the last few weeks, Buck too busy to bother getting it cut. Now the hair was drying into soft ringlets atop his head and Buck glared fiercely at them. 

The ringlets were adorable on his daughter, but on him they made him look young and soft in a way that Buck had always been a little self-conscious about. 

There was no use for it, though. Without product, he didn’t stand a chance at forcing his hair into any semblance of order. 

Buck stepped out of the bathroom and made his way back down the hall, through the living room, and to the kitchen. Tommy was already there, running a blender for their shakes, banana peels and open containers of berries sitting beside a bag of protein powder and a jug of milk. 

“Do you think I could borrow some gel?” Buck asked as he entered the room. 

Tommy looked up and his eyes widened. He stopped the blender and stared. 

“Absolutely not.” 

Buck blinked, surprised that hair products was where the other man drew the line. “O-kay.” 

Tommy shook his head and stepped around the kitchen island, coming closer to Buck. His eyes didn’t move from the top of Buck’s head. 

“I refuse to support the hiding of those curls,” Tommy reached up and wrapped one ringlet around his index finger. “That’d be a whole new form of blasphemy.” 

Buck blushed and snorted, “What?” 

Tommy’s eyes fell from the curls to meet Buck’s gaze, “These are gorgeous, Evan.” 

The blush spread further, warming the tips of Buck’s ears and spreading down the top of his chest. 

“Th-thanks.” 

Tommy stood there, too close, fingers playing with Buck’s curls. Buck was suddenly and disproportionately conscious of the fact that he was wearing the other man’s underwear. 

Time stretched. 

There was a tension surrounding them that Buck couldn’t put a name to. He wondered if Tommy felt it too. 

He must not, because after an extended moment, Tommy stepped back and turned back to the blender, pouring the contents into two shaker bottles and handing one to Buck. 

“I’d offer you something better, but I figured you probably want to eat lunch with Bri,” Tommy apologized. 

Buck coughed, unstable and confused, “Yeah. Thanks. This is,” he held up the bottle, taking a sip and coughing again, “this is great.” 

Tommy smiled like they were sharing a secret, but Buck didn’t know what it could be.

Buck firmly told himself to stop acting like a fool and stepped forward to lean his arms against the kitchen island and look up at Tommy. 

“Tell me something about you.” 

This time, it was Tommy who gave an awkward cough, mixed with a laugh, “What?” 

“We keep talking about me. I want to know more about you,” Buck grinned. “How long have you been a pilot?” 

“I was a pilot in the army, before I joined the LAFD,” Tommy’s smile was a little tight, and Buck decided that was probably a time in his life that the other man wasn’t happy to discuss. Eddie was the same. “I didn’t plan on flying again after that. Didn’t consider it an option for over a decade.”

“What changed?” Buck kept his tone light, encouraging. He wanted Tommy to know that his curiosity was sincere. 

“The 118 did,” Tommy frowned and set down his shake to start putting the lids back on the containers he’d used.  “When I first joined the LAFD, it was a different place. Toxic and bigoted and I became that way too.”

He looked at Buck, eyes large with regret and vulnerability. Buck didn’t say anything, but he reached out and stilled Tommy’s fussing movements by covering one of Tommy’s hands with his own, offering what support he could. 

“I told myself it was about survival, but really, I was a coward. I just didn’t realize it until Howie knocked some sense into my thick head.” 

Buck smiled, “What’d he do?” 

Tommy’s smile now was self-deprecating, “He saved my life. Probably more shocking, he became my friend. Even after everything I put him through, or just stood by and watched Gerrard, our old captain, put him through. He still insisted on being my friend.” Tommy pulled away to pick up the milk and berries and return them to the fridge, “Then Hen came, then Captain Nash. The old guard disappeared and the 118 started to change and I realized, I could too.”

“So you went back to flying,” Buck said, absently gathering the banana peels to toss into the trashcan by the back door. 

“I went back to flying. Transferred to Harbor, and started putting in the work to be a better man,” Tommy shrugged, as if admitting to his own faults and his determination to improve was nothing. “And now I work with a bunch of idiots who steal my phone and force me into photoshoots against my will.” 

Buck laughed, recognizing the need to lighten the mood, “I, for one, appreciated those photos. Highlight of my day.” 

“Oh yeah?” Tommy smiled, warm and a little shy. 

“Definitely,” Buck grinned, then pulled out his phone and scrolled through it until he found the one he wanted, “This is art!” 

He turned the phone around to show Tommy the photo he’d selected: the photo of Tommy’s coworker reaching out to hold Tommy back by the face as another coworker attempted to drag the man back by his arm. 

Tommy’s laughter rang through the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Buck waited as Bri slid into the booth that the hostess had directed them to, then he slipped in after her. Tommy was seated on the other side of Bri, directly across from Buck since they’d been lucky enough to snag a corner booth at the busy Italian place that Tommy had taken them to. 

He was at the tail end of his 48 off, and dreading going back to the station after the blowout that had happened during his last shift. He’d mentioned it to Tommy briefly, after Bri had gone to bed the night before and the two of them had finally done the watch-along over the phone to 10 Things I Hate About You — a movie that Buck had loved it, especially when he heard how charmingly choked up Tommy had gotten during Kat’s poetry reading in class. 

After the movie had ended, they’d talked for nearly an hour about anything and nothing before Buck spilled about the events of his last shift and how nervous he was about possible consequences for confronting Bobby. Tommy’s advice had been to put it out of his mind for now and make the most of his two days off — that way, no matter how it went when he was face to face with Bobby again, Buck would have great memories to help him weather the storm. 

Buck had taken the advice to heart. 

His first day off had already been amazing: starting with the workout with Tommy, then going to the aquarium with Bri, and ending in the watch-along movie…it all culminated in a near perfect day. 

He was determined to make day two just as amazing. 

He spent the rest of his evening in research mode, creating a plan and making a checklist of everything that he would need to make it into a reality. 

He was fully prepared to grant at least one of his daughter’s small wishes.

After dropping Bri off at daycare, he’d gone over to Tommy’s again for another workout — this time bringing his own change of clothes and returning Tommy’s now freshly-washed borrowed clothing — and then begged Tommy to join him and Bri for the day. 

Once Bri was out of daycare, they picked her up in Tommy’s truck and drove to the pet store. 

Bri was ecstatic when she saw all the animals, and Buck had had to quickly redirect her attention away from the fluffier selection and over to the aquatic area that housed his surprise. Once she’d been told that she could adopt one of the fresh-water snails, she’d forgotten all about the rabbits and ferrets and kittens that were nearer to the entrance. 

Bri had picked out a small, magenta Mystery Snail, which she had inexplicably named “Dragon.” Then, at Bri’s insistence that Buck also needed a pet and that Dragon needed a friend, Buck had selected a Black Moor Goldfish. The fish was primarily black, with a light hint of gold around the gills. Buck dubbed the little guy Charcoal. 

Pets selected, Buck and Bri took off through the aquarium area, with Tommy trailing behind with the cart and smiling at their antics. Buck had his phone out, pulled up to the checklist that he’d created from his research. They selected a 40 gallon tank and water conditioner, then grabbed the filter, lights, and heater that Buck had found had the best online reviews. 

He let Bri select the substrate and plants to decorate the tank. She even found some things that Buck hadn’t included on his checklist, but couldn’t resist saying yes to: floating moss balls, faux-stones that formed a natural-looking underwater bridge, and moss covered driftwood. 

The cart was overflowing with their shopping, but Buck and Bri were determined to create an underwater utopia for their new fresh water family members. 

They’d been at the pet shop for close to two hours when Tommy had finally reeled the two Buckley’s in and, laughing, wrangled them toward the checkout before they could pick out two of everything they found in the aquarium aisles. 

It took most of the afternoon to fill and decorate the tank, after Tommy had driven them home, and to acclimate the pets to their new environment. 

They’d use Bri’s disappointment that she couldn’t see Charcoal and Dragon through the cloudy water to talk her into a dinner break. It had taken a promise that the dirt would settle (mostly) while they were out and the water would be clearer by the time they got home, before she was willing to step away from the glass. 

“Do you think Dragon and Charcoal want cheese pizza for dinner?” Bri frowned down at the kid’s menu. 

Across from him, Tommy snorted. 

“We already got them food, remember?” Buck asked, kicking Tommy lightly under the table. Tommy trapped Buck’s foot between his and held it there. 

Bri looked up at Buck, “But what if they’re sad cause we get a special dinner out and they don’t?”

Tommy gently pulled on one of Bri’s pigtails, “I bet Dragon is really looking forward to those algae wafers you picked out for her. That’s her special dinner.” 

They’d bought algae wafers, fish food flakes, and frozen mealworms (Bri and Tommy had made near-identical disgusted faces when Buck selected those). 

“And we can cook some peas for Charcoal so he gets a special treat too.” Buck had only planned on getting a snail for Bri, so he hadn’t had a chance to do much research on their new fish yet. The brief articles that he had managed to read, while Tommy had been assembling the aquarium stand, had said that Black Moor enjoyed de-skinned peas, and that the fiber in them helped treat and prevent swim bladder issues. 

Bri bit her lip, considering, “I guess that’s okay. As long as they aren’t sad.” 

“With how much you already love them? There’s no way they’ll be sad,” Tommy grinned at her and Bri smiled back, appeased. 

When the waitress arrived for their orders, Buck turned to Bri, “Did you decide what you want?” 

“Cheese ravioli, please,” Bri confidently told the woman. 

Buck adored how outgoing she was. She always knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it and she had no trouble making friends or charming everyone who came in contact with her. 

The waitress smiled brightly back at Bri, “Do you want sauce on that? Or butter and salt?”

Bri touched a finger to her chin, thinking, then replied, “The red sauce, please.”

“Oh, you’re daddies are raising a young woman with sophisticated taste, aren’t they?” 

It was only when Tommy tensed that Buck realized his foot was still nudged up against the other man’s under the table. He looked up, concerned. 

Tommy was looking studiously at his menu, face blank, but there was a little line between his brows that Buck wasn’t used to seeing there. 

For a second, Buck worried that the man might be offended by the assumption that they were both Bri’s daddies — which felt a little like rejection in a way that Buck couldn’t clearly define.  

“That’s my daddy,” Bri giggled, pointing to Buck. Then she turned and pointed to Tommy, “and that’s our Tommy.” 

The tips of Tommy’s ears turned pink and an involuntary smile pulled at the man’s mouth. Buck grinned to himself, relieved and amused. Seeing such a calm and collected man blush to the tips of his ears was endearing. 

Tommy clearly wasn’t offended by the association with them when he was sitting here flustered at being claimed by a 4 year old. 

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you all,” the waitress was clearly — and rightly — charmed. She glanced between the two men, “And what will you gentlemen be having tonight?”

Buck lifted the toe of his shoe to gently knock against Tommy’s ankle until Tommy looked up at him. He gave the other man a shy smile, “Wanna split a pizza with me?” 

Tommy visibly forced himself to relax as he replied, “Vegetarian?” 

“If we can get buffalo wings as a starter,” Buck compromised, then looked back at the waitress, “And a pitcher of water for the table, please.” 

The waitress took down the order and left with a kind smile for the group. 

Buck beamed at his daughter and Tommy, both of whom had scooted closer together on the seat so that they could color in the sketch book that Buck had packed in Bri’s backpack and brought with them. The sight pulled at Buck’s heart. He’d only had the two of them in his life for a few short weeks, and already he couldn’t imagine how he’d lived without them. 

“Daddy,” Bri poked Buck in the side with a green crayon, “We drew Dragon and Charcoal, look!”

The page was now sporting a black blob with eyes, a purple spiral with antennae at the bottom of the page, and little green sea-weed looking plants. The black blob was wearing a red helmet with 217 written across it in Tommy’s handwriting. 

“I see you’ve already stolen Charcoal’s loyalty for air ops,” Buck gave Tommy a mock-glare. 

Tommy smirked, “You snooze, you lose. He’s a Harbor Station probie now. I’m gonna get him a little fish bowl and strap him into the co-pilot seat next time I fly.” 

“No! He’ll spill!” Bri cried, trying and failing to suppress her laughter. 

Tommy wrapped an arm around Bri’s shoulders, pulling her into his side and tickling her, making the giggles pitch up in volume. “Hm, maybe I should bring you too then, so you can hold him steady for me.” 

“No way! If Harbor gets Charcoal, then I get Bri!” Buck protested, gently tugging on Bri’s arm like he meant to pull her away from Tommy. 

“Dragon can work with you, Daddy. I wanna go flying!” Bri swatted Buck’s hands away, leaning her body further into Tommy. 

“Noooo! Betrayed by my own flesh and blood!” Buck let out a loud gasp, hand clutching to his chest in dismay. “You know what? No. I refuse to allow this.” 

Buck grabbed the sketchbook and pulled out a blank sheet of paper, then used a black crayon to quickly sketch a passable badge with LAFD 118 written across the middle. He tore the paper around it to roughly cut it out, then placed the paper badge lightly on top of Bri’s head. 

“You have been claimed by the 118, now you’ve gotta be my probie!” Buck announced. 

Bri shook her head vigorously, until the loose paper fluttered off her head and under the table, “Nope nope nope!” 

Tommy leaned down and stage-whispered in Bri’s ear, “Tell him you are transferring.”

“I’m transferring!” Bri announced, dutifully. 

Tommy smirked at Buck, smug in his victory, and Buck crumpled up some of the scrap paper left from the badge and tossed it at the other man’s face. Tommy kicked him lightly under the table in retaliation and Bri grabbed the paper and threw it back at Buck, laughing. 

Buck tossed the ball back at Bri, then crumpled another and was just about to throw this one at Tommy again when the waitress returned with their drinks. Buck quickly slid the paper ball out of sight and onto the seat beside him. 

Bri followed his example and dropped the ball that had been tossed at her into Tommy’s lap. 

The waitress raised an eyebrow as all three of them sat up straight in their seats and plastered their most innocent smiles on their faces. 

“I’m not even going to ask,” she laughed, setting down the water pitcher and cups and wandering away. 

***

They spent most of dinner laughing and playing at the table. 

At one point, in an effort to make sure that they actually ate at least some of their food while it was still warm, Buck pulled up YouTube on his phone and started playing videos on caring for Black Moor Goldfish. He set the phone up against the water pitcher where they could all see the screen while they ate. 

They only made it through two videos before Bri commandeered the phone and navigated them to some of her favorite creators instead. 

Bri’s friend Ashley had recently introduced her to a creator who illustrated kid’s jokes, and Bri was thrilled to show the knock knock videos to Tommy (she’d shown Buck the other night, and it had evolved into a solid twenty minutes of them telling each other jokes and laughing until his sides hurt). 

The drive home after they ate was spent playing a preschool edition of Would You Rather.

“Hmmm….Daddy! Would you rather eat a worm, or smell like a fart?” 

“Eat a worm, definitely,” Buck made a slurp sound and turned in his seat with his cheesiest smile aimed at Bri in the back. “Good protein.” 

“Ewww!” Bri laughed, feet kicking the back of Buck’s seat. 

“Tommy,” Buck grinned at him, “Would you rather be young and gorgeous forever, or be able to fly? Uh, without a plane or helicopter or anything, I mean.” 

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Tommy shot him a quick smirk, before turning his eyes back to the road, “I’d rather fly. Immortality seems more a curse than anything.” 

One of the things that Buck enjoyed about Tommy, was that he actually put thought into everything he said, even the answers to a silly game question.

“Bri,” Tommy glanced at her in the mirror, then back down, “Would you rather have the best singing voice in the whole world, or be able to talk to snails?”

“SNAILS!” Bre shouted as loudly as she could, making Buck and Tommy both wince in the front. “I wanna talk to Dragon all about Ashley and the kids from daycare and find out what her favorite food is and if she likes the plants we put in her tank!” 

“Did you think she’d answer anything else?” Buck whispered to Tommy, chuckling. 

“Never.” Tommy was smiling, small and happy, as he turned the truck into the Buckley driveway. 

Buck jumped out of the truck and opened the back door to help Bri out of her car seat. He helped her carefully to the ground (she insisted on jumping out of the tall truck, but Buck insisted on holding onto her waist to control the fall) and then unbuckled and removed the car seat that he’d moved from his Jeep into Tommy’s truck for the day’s adventures. 

He made it all the way to the front door, following behind a laughing Tommy and Bri, before he noticed the three large boxes stacked to the side of it. 

“Presents!” Bri shouted, excited. She jumped up and down in one spot, “What are they, Daddy?”

Buck handed the car seat to Tommy and stepped closer to the boxes. Two of them, the larger boxes, were addressed to “Sabrina Buckley,” with the third box addressed to “Evan Buckley.” None of them had return addresses.

The warm and happy feeling that had been filling Buck all day seeped out of him, as he realized what the boxes must contain. 

Amelia had promised to send Bri’s things to her. 

A few weeks ago, Buck had thought that it was a great idea, that having her old things around her would help Bri to acclimate to her new home and feel more safe and secure with Buck. 

Now, he wasn’t so sure how Bri would react. 

“Evan?” Tommy gently touched the small of Buck’s back, voice quiet and just for the two of them. “Should I be calling someone?” 

At the sound of the worry in Tommy’s voice, the sudden memory of the package bombs that had been sent out by Freddie just over six months ago flashed through Buck’s mind. He looked at the other man and could see the fear in his eyes. 

“No, hey,” Buck shook his head, “No. I know who these are from.” 

Tommy nodded, the fear fading to concern. 

Buck unlocked the front door and Bri ran inside to tell Dragon and Charcoal about the mystery boxes. Tommy set the car seat just inside the door, then stepped back outside to help Buck carry the boxes in. 

“They’re from Amelia,” Buck whispered while they were still outside and Bri wouldn’t overhear, “Bri’s mom. She said she’d send Bri’s things to her.”

“You’re worried she’s not going to be happy to see them?” Tommy asked, stepping closer to Buck. Buck could tell that the other man was aching to hug him, to offer the physical comfort that he gave so easily. 

Buck leaned forward and let his forehead fall to Tommy’s shoulder, the action enough to show Tommy that he would welcome the hug. Tommy’s arms came up and around him immediately. 

“I-I don’t know,” Buck admitted, “She doesn’t show it, most of the time, but this transition has been really hard for her. She had a full blown panic attack the day her mom left. She could barely br-breathe and she was so upset that her nose started bleeding. It was terrifying. I don’t want her to ever feel that way again.” 

Tommy pulled Buck in closer. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Buck knew there wasn’t anything that he could say. 

Nothing that either of them said or did was going to change that Bri’s mother had abandoned her. 

“I can stay, if you want. Or go and give you two privacy. Whatever you need, Evan.” 

If it was just about what Buck needed, he’d ask Tommy to stay. The other man had a talent for soothing Buck with his presence alone.

He didn’t think that Bri needed an audience for this, though. 

He didn’t want her to think she needed to mask whatever she was feeling. It would help her, in the long run, if she could express all of it however she needed to. 

Buck stepped back and gave Tommy an apologetic look, but Tommy just shook his head. 

“Bri comes first, I get it,” he cupped the back of Buck’s neck for a moment, before letting go and picking up a box, “let’s get these inside and I’ll say goodbye.”

He didn’t seem upset about the night being cut short, and Buck chose to believe that Tommy really did get it.

Once the boxes were stacked on the dining room floor, Tommy gave Bri a hug and headed out. 

“Bri, baby,” Buck pulled her attention up from the boxes, “Before we open these, I want to talk to you about them.” 

“Are they presents?” Bri beamed, as bright and happy as she’d been all day. 

“No,” Buck shook his head. He sat on the floor beside the boxes and across from his daughter, “It’s stuff that already belongs to you. It’s–It’s from your old house. Your mom sent them.” 

The smile on Bri’s face faded to confusion as she looked at the boxes, “It’s my stuff?” 

“Yeah,” Buck nodded, then leaned sideways until he caught Bri’s eyes, “Do you want to look at it all?” 

“Okay,” Bri walked to one of the large boxes and put her hands on it. 

Buck stood and went to the kitchen for scissors. He quickly cut open the two boxes that were addressed to Bri, but left the one addressed to him for now. 

Inside each box was a plethora of board games, dolls, toy cars, art supplies, and vacuumed-sealed bags full of clothes and stuffed animals. 

Buck pulled each item out, one by one, and set them on the floor. 

Packaged carefully between the clothing, he found a plastic picture-collage frame filled with photos of Bri at various ages with an older woman and man that Buck deduced were Bri’s maternal grandparents. 

He froze, staring at the photos of his daughter as a baby and toddler. He never thought that he’d have the opportunity to see Bri at these ages, and seeing these photos of such a happy baby made him ache with longing for all the years that he had missed with her. 

“Can we call grandma?” Bri whispered. 

Buck looked up from the photos. Bri was standing at his shoulder, looking at the pictures with watery eyes. 

“Oh, baby,” Buck set the frame down and turned to pull his daughter to him. He held her tightly, “I don’t know your grandparents phone number.” 

“Momma has it. You can call her.” 

“I can try, but she might not answer,” he couldn’t just say no, or Bri could end up believing that he was the one keeping her from her mother, but he needed her to be prepared. 

Buck had tried calling Amelia almost daily since she’d disappeared from his living room. At first, her phone went to voicemail and Buck left multiple messages begging for her to call him and talk. 

After the first two days, the voicemail stopped picking up. Now, the phone just rang until Buck gave up and hung up. He was pretty sure that meant that she had blocked him.  

“She will,” Bri pulled away and looked at Buck, stubborn and sure. 

Buck sighed and pulled out his phone. He pulled up Amelia’s contact and hit call, switching the phone to speaker so Bri could hear it ring. 

Bri waited, expectant, as the phone rang and rang. 

Buck didn’t hang up, just let it keep going for as long as Bri needed. With every ring, Bri’s face lost a bit of stubbornness and became more upset, until finally she grabbed the phone out of Buck’s hand and threw it. 

The phone skid across the floor until it came to a stop against the hallway wall, where it continued to ring. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Buck’s voice cracked. 

Amelia had told him once that her mother was willing to take Bri, if Buck didn’t, and Bri had mentioned that her grandmother used to watch her while Amelia was at work. 

Her mother hadn’t just abandoned her. She’d cut Bri off from everyone who had known and loved her before. 

Bri reached down and grabbed an armful of toys, dumping them back into the cardboard box angrily. She stepped on and kicked items as she grabbed more, throwing them toward the box. 

“I don’t want it! Send it back!” She shouted, turning towards Buck defiantly. 

“You don’t have to keep anything you don’t want,” Buck assured. He stood up and grabbed his phone off the floor, ending the call. 

“I hate her!” Bri screamed, stomping down on the edge of the box for Operation and smashing it beneath her shoe. At the small sign of destruction, she did it again and again, crushing the box as much as she could manage. 

Buck knelt in front of her, gently grabbing her arms and holding her steady, “It’s okay to be mad at her,” he swallowed hard, “It’s even okay to hate her. But you know, it’s okay if you love her and miss her too.” 

Tears streamed down Bri’s eyes, “I don’t! She didn’t want me. She doesn’t even want to remember me!” 

Bri’s hands balled into fists and she scrunched her face up. Buck could see how hard she was fighting her tears, trying to stay angry rather than feel sad. 

She struggled in his hold, and Buck let her go. 

Her eyes landed on the photo collage, and more tears escaped. 

“Did grandma forget me too?”

Buck’s heart broke, “No one could ever forget you. Even if they send you away and send all your things away. You are too special to ever forget.” Bri kept her face turned away from him, and Buck swallowed down his own anger and sadness. “I never got to meet your grandma, but I know she loved you very much. I think she probably misses you every day.”

“Then why didn’t she make Momma keep me?” 

The question burst the dam and Bri started sobbing, unable to stop her tears now. 

Buck pulled her into his lap, tucking her head under his chin and rocking them both right there on the floor. 

“It wasn’t up to her,” Buck soothed, “But I promise, your grandma loves you . She even told your mom that she wanted you to live with her, if you couldn’t stay with me.”

He wasn’t sure if telling her that was the right thing. He wasn’t sure if there even was a right thing to say right now. But he needed his little girl to know she was loved, regardless of her mother’s decisions. 

“She did?” Bri’s voice sounded so small and lost. 

“She did.”

They sat there on the floor for a long time, before finally deciding to pack everything back into the boxes that they’d come from. 

Everything except the photo collage of Bri and her grandparents. That was hung up carefully on the wall beside Bri’s bed, so they could watch over and protect her. 

Later, after Bri had gone to sleep, Buck stored the two boxes in the shed behind their house. He’d keep it all, in case Bri ever decided that she wanted it. 

Then he sat on his bed and opened the box that had been addressed to him. 

Inside was a small folder of paperwork with Bri’s original birth, social security card, and hospital and dental records. 

More importantly, there was a baby book filled with photos of Bri for every month of the first year of her life. There were dates with weight and length measurements, diary-esc entries about the first time she laughed, her first word — adorably, “duck” since apparently they’d spent a significant amount of time at a local pond —, and the date and a photo of her first steps. 

The book started getting more sparse from there, with shorter entries and only a handful of photos of Bri at two years old. By the time Bri was three, there was only a single last entry — a photo with a date and nothing else. 

Buck touched the edge of the photo of three year old Bri, sitting on the floor with a book in her lap and staring up at the camera with large eyes and an open mouth, clearly caught in the middle of speaking. 

He wondered what she was saying; wondered if whoever had taken the photo had listened to her talk. He hoped Bri had been happy then, that she hadn’t felt alone or unwanted. 

He hoped that he could make her happy enough now to override all the sadness and damage from her mother walking away from her.

Chapter Text

The Jeep rumbled to a stop in the parking lot outside of the station and Buck turned the keys to cut the engine, then leaned forward and rested his head on the steering wheel. 

He took a deep breath, and pushed away the phantom sound of an endlessly ringing phone serving as backdrop to his daughter’s sobs. Instead, he forced himself to focus on the good. 

Bri’s squeals of delight when he told her she could adopt a fresh water snail. Lifting her up so she could see in the tall tanks at the store. Bri directing him and Tommy at exactly where each plant and rock was to be placed in their tank at home. Dinner at the restaurant, filled with laughter. 

Those were the memories he’d need to hang onto when he walked into the station. 

His phone pinged in the cupholder beside him, and Buck eagerly reached for it. 

Tommy: Good luck today. I’m just about to head to my shift, but call or text anytime if you need someone to talk to. I’ll respond as soon as I can.

Buck smiled down at his phone. 

Tommy had sent a similar text last night, and Buck had taken him up on the offer to talk after Bri was asleep. They’d video called and Buck had flipped through Bri’s baby book again, this time showing it to Tommy and talking about all the things that Buck regretted missing in his daughter’s early life and how afraid he was that he was messing everything up now. 

Tommy reassured Buck a few times during the call, but mostly he just let Buck rant and cry until Buck had fallen asleep talking to him. 

Tommy: [image]

The photo was a new picture frame sitting on the table beside the yellow armchair in Tommy’s living room. Inside the frame was the drawing that Tommy and Bri had done at dinner of Dragon and Charcoal. Bri had given it to him before they left the restaurant and Tommy had insisted that he loved it so much that he was going to frame it. 

In the top corner of the frame, where it wouldn’t cover up any integral part of their drawing, was the 118 badge that Buck had sketched and tore out. 

He remembered it falling under the table at one point while they were all goofing around, but he’d never seen Tommy collect it. 

Buck: You’re incredible.

Chuckling, Buck tucked his phone into his pocket as he stepped out of the Jeep and walked toward the station, suddenly feeling brave enough to face whatever the day held. 

He made it to the locker room before most of the team and started changing, trying to keep hold of that bravery that Tommy had given him. The more of A shift that arrived, the harder it was to hold that feeling as nerves began pushing in again. 

Something tapped against his arm, and Buck realized he’d been staring blankly at the butterfly drawing in the back of his locker, fingers frozen at his sternum, shirt buttons only half done up. 

“Run out of gel this morning?” Eddie was holding out a bottle of styling gel, face amused as he took in Buck’s hair. 

The last two mornings, when Buck had reached for his gel, his hand had faltered as he’d remembered first Tommy and then Bri commenting on how much they enjoyed his curls. They’d both looked so pleased, yesterday, when Buck had actually styled his hair to showcase the curls — using some of the shampoo and curl créme that he’d bought for Bri to reduce the frizz and enhance the ringlets — that Buck had felt himself blush from the roots of his hair to halfway down his chest. 

“You don’t like it?” Buck asked, sounding more vulnerable than he’d intended. 

Eddie paused, face shifting from amusement to awareness as he seemed to take in that Buck’s hair was intentionally styled. He pulled back his hand and replaced the gel in his bag. 

“I didn’t say that,” Eddie turned to him more fully and gave a tentative smile, “I’ve just never seen your hair this long. Didn’t even realize you had this kind of curl.”

Buck rubbed the back of his neck, resisting the urge to run a hand through his hair. “I—”

“I like it,” Eddie said firmly. “Actually, it looks a lot like Christopher’s. Only I can never get Christopher’s curls that defined.” 

It was another olive branch; a chance that Buck didn’t expect after he had fumbled the last one so spectacularly. 

“I could send you some videos,” Buck offered, eager and nervous. “I’ve been watching a lot of them lately. About how to do curly hair. I even bought a bunch of different products to test, so have some recommendations.” 

He’d been testing them with Bri, which meant that they’d probably work well for Christopher too. Buck had gotten Bri’s feedback on each one until they’d figured out which were gentle on the head and didn’t burn her eyes. 

“Sounds good. Thanks, man,” Eddie nodded, turning back to his locker and shrugging into his uniform shirt, “What made you decide to change it up?” 

The bell ringing saved Buck from having to come up with an answer. 

Buck slowly shut his locker, watching as everyone around him scrambled to finish dressing and rush toward their turnouts and boots. 

Bobby jogged past the glass wall of the locker room, then paused and back tracked to the door. He gave Buck a single once-over, then said, “We’re going to need all hands for this one. Get your gear.” 

“Really?” Buck blinked, shocked. 

“Are you asking me to reconsider?” Bobby shot him a smile, which just added to Buck’s shock. It was the old smile, the one that Buck hadn’t seen in months: warm and friendly. 

He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew now wasn’t the time to question it. He shook off his surprise and rushed out of the room to gear up, sliding into the truck across from Eddie and catching Hen’s welcoming smile. 

“Welcome back, Buckley!” Chimney gave his arm a light swat with the back of his hand, grinning. 

“Good to be back,” Buck was too happy to question it at the moment, adrenaline coursing through his veins as the engine rumbled to life beneath him and they rolled out of the station into the streets of L.A. 

Bobby turned from the front seat and took them in, “Dispatch says there’s been an explosion at Glendale Memorial.” 

Buck’s excitement faded as determination and purpose filled him with Bobby’s words.

“That’s 153’s district,” Hen said what they all knew. 

If they were calling in multiple stations, then whatever had happened was big and it being a hospital meant there were a lot of people who were likely to be too sick or injured to get themselves out of harm's way. 

They spent the rest of the drive silent, each of them focusing on the task to come. 

When they pulled up to the scene, they could see smoke billowing out from the windows of the upper floor on the south side of the building. 

Bobby walked directly towards the tent set up near the entrance, where Captain Reese, 153’s Captain and the Incident Commander on scene, was directing doctors and firefighters alike. Ambulances were being loaded with patients and a medevac helicopter was taking off from the roof. 

Buck briefly wondered if Tommy was up there, before he forced his head back in the game. 

“118 reporting. What’s the situation?” Bobby came to a stop in front of Reese, the rest of the 118 only steps behind him. 

Reese nodded a terse greeting to the group, focusing on Bobby as she replied, “From what we can gather, there was an electrical malfunction in the surgical wing that sparked a fire inside the walls. It advanced across half the fourth floor before breaking through into open areas. We’ve got most of the floor evacuated and are working to contain the fire, but we need to check all walls on the south side to make sure it didn’t jump floors. I want your ambulance helping transport patients who need it and the rest of your team on level three doing a sweep.”

“You have your orders, 118,” Bobby called out. 

Hen and Chimney took off back toward the ambulance while Eddie and Buck grabbed halligans and extinguishers and jogged toward the entrance of the hospital. 

***

The fire ended up being far less serious than everyone feared. Thankfully, it hadn’t jumped floors, and there were no injuries related to the fire itself. 

The 153 got the fire extinguished relatively easily, but the entire south side of the hospital was still evacuated until inspections into the electrical malfunction could take place. 

The 118 left Hen, Chim, and Barnett on scene with the ambulance to assist the remaining evacuation and transfer of patients from Glendale Memorial to surrounding hospitals while the rest of the team prepped to head back to the station. 

Before they loaded back into the ladder truck, Buck paused long enough to take a quick photo of one of the helicopters coming in for a landing on the hospital roof and texted it to Tommy. 

Buck: Are you at Glendale Memorial?

He didn’t get a response until they were back at the station, Bobby heading upstairs to start on lunch. Buck leaned against the truck and pulled out his phone. 

Tommy: They finally let you out of the station?!

Tommy: No, I wasn’t there. I just got in from an air rescue at Topanga State Park.

Buck: Yeah, I was out of containment! It was amazing! (fire was small, no injuries)

Tommy: Can’t wait to hear about it. 

“Buck,” Bobby called from the loft. Buck quickly stashed the phone back in his pocket and took the stairs two at a time, coming to a stop beside the pinball machine, just outside of the kitchen. “I need these cubed.” Bobby pointed his knife at a stack of butternut squash. 

Buck frowned, hesitant and uncertain. 

For the past several weeks, the only time he’d been in the station kitchen was when Bobby delegated the cooking to him. It had been politely suggested to him that he was in the way whenever he’d tried to join Bobby as sous chef, the way he’d gotten in the habit of since his probie days. 

Now Bobby was ordering him back, as if nothing had changed. 

He was reluctant to question it. Afraid that the second he did, he’d lose this chance again. 

Buck walked tentatively to the sink to wash his hands, then started cutting the squash into 1 inch cubes, the way Bobby had once taught him. He put his whole focus on the knife, and getting each cube exactly the same size, leaving nothing to criticize and no reason for Bobby to kick him out. 

“Great job, kid,” Bobby smiled, moving the squash to the side and spreading the pistachios that he’d just finished roasting onto the cutting board instead. “Dice those for me, would you?” 

Buck switched knives, then followed Bobby’s direction. 

***

When the alarm went off for the second time that shift, Buck instinctively looked to Bobby. 

“Don’t look at me,” Bobby nodded his head toward Buck’s gear, “You know the drill. Get to it.” 

Buck shot Bobby a questioning look, confused, but didn’t stick around to question it further. He got geared up and climbed into the truck.

***

“Do you think Cap hit his head or something?” Buck whispered to Hen on their third call of the shift. 

Buck hadn’t hesitated when the alarm went off this time, just geared up and jogged toward the engine. Bobby had clapped him on the shoulder and given him an encouraging smile as Buck had been stepping up into the truck, but the man hadn’t said anything. 

“What are you talking about, Buck?” Hen was bandaging the arm of a cyclist who’d been side-swiped by a man on a moped with road rage. 

“Cap? He’s acting like…like…I don’t know! But it’s way too normal and it’s weirding me out,” Buck watched as Bobby spoke with Athena, moped driver cuffed and locked in the back of her squad car. 

“Maybe something you said got through to him,” Hen shrugged, only half paying attention to the conversation as she focused on the cyclist. 

“Or maybe he’s been replaced with a pod person,” Chimney chuckled, then immediately frowned and glanced questioningly at Bobby as if he was seriously considering the possibility. 

***

By the fourth call of the shift, Buck was starting to feel a little insane. 

It wasn’t just Bobby who was acting like the last few weeks hadn’t happened. With every call, the rest of the 118 was slowly following his lead. 

Jackson had complimented Buck on the butternut squash salad at lunch. Castillo had tossed him a water bottle when they returned from the last call, giving him a nod and a smile. Maxwell invited Buck to join him and a few others in a Mario Kart battle.  

Even Eddie had asked to join Buck in a workout. 

Everyone was back on the chore rotation — something that had fallen by the wayside with Buck stuck as man-behind and using the chores as a way to fill his time. 

No one was mentioning the tension from the last few weeks or the argument that Buck and Bobby had gotten into at the end of the last shift. Buck was terrified to bring it up too, but he was also kind of terrified not to. 

He couldn’t trust this. 

He couldn’t trust a sudden and inexplicable change in mood from the whole station, when no one was talking about it.

“Buck, get the jaws,” Bobby ordered from beside an SUV that had half crushed a mini cooper beneath it. 

Buck grabbed the jaws and jammed them into the edge of the mini cooper’s door, using them to pry it open so Eddie could reach inside and pull out the driver. 

***

Their shift was over and still no one had said anything.

A Shift changed into their civvies to head home as B Shift arrived. A few people called out goodbyes to the team as they headed out. They didn’t single Buck out, but they did include him in their nods and waves. 

B Shift was staring in obvious confusion, a few raising eyebrows at Buck, who helplessly shrugged in response. 

He had no idea. 

“I was hoping you’d join Athena and I for dinner later,” Bobby was waiting for Buck as he hefted his bag over his shoulder and headed out of the locker room. 

Buck stopped by the back of the truck, out of the way so he didn’t block the doorway of the locker room. If he was also a full 4 feet away from Bobby, that was just a bonus. 

He stared at his captain, waiting, but when nothing more came with the invite, he sighed and dropped his bag by his feet so he could fold his arms in front of him, defensive. 

Longing and anxiety battled for dominance inside him, and Buck finally broke. 

“Is that it?” Buck’s words were quiet, but they stopped the few remaining A Shift members in their tracks. 

About ten steps closer to the exit, Chimney groaned and muttered ‘so close,’ before turning to watch the confrontation.  

“Weeks of keeping me out of the field,” Buck continued, “Of treating me like–like I’m some kind of intruder. Not even a member of the team. And now, what? I’m back in the field and we act like nothing happened?” 

“Take the win, Buck,” Eddie stepped up beside him and knocked his shoulder. 

Buck shot him a glare and took a step to the side, further away from his friend. 

Bobby sighed, tucking his hands in his pockets and nodding. “I was waiting to talk to you at dinner. But if you want to do this here, we can do it here.” His voice was firm, but there was so much regret on his face, “You were right, Buck. What you said last shift…all of it was true. You got hurt because of the decisions that I made and I just wanted to keep you from ever getting hurt like that again but instead, I just made more decisions that hurt you; only this time, I didn’t realize it. I couldn’t see the wounds. I only saw your reactions to them, and I punished you for that. I was wrong.” 

Shock nearly knocked Buck off his feet, his ears ringing. 

In all the scenarios that he’d played out in his head over the last weeks and especially the past few days, about how he’d ever reconnect with Bobby, how they’d ever start to heal, he had never thought that it would go like this. Buck always assumed that he’d have to apologize, again and again, until Bobby finally agreed to give him another chance. 

Instead, he’d yelled at Bobby in the middle of the station, and Bobby had heard him. 

Finally. 

Heard him and backed down. Let him back. 

“I messed up, and I’m going to do everything that I can to earn your forgiveness,” Bobby stepped forward, closer to Buck. “It’s part of my job to give unbiased assessments of members of the team and I didn’t do that. I let my own fears and my affection for you color my report and that wasn’t fair to you. You are a firefighter and a valuable member of this team. You deserved better.” Bobby held out his hand, “I’m not asking for your forgiveness. Not yet. But I am offering an apology.” 

Buck looked at Bobby’s outstretched hand, then reached out and used it to pull Bobby into a hug. He held the other man close for a moment, wishing everything could be forgiven and forgotten as easily as this.

When they pulled away, Bobby was smiling warmly. 

“Come to dinner tonight. I’ll make lasagna and you can listen to Athena call me ten kinds of a fool for all the bad decisions I’ve made recently.” 

“I’m sorry too,” Buck’s voice was choked, “For going to a lawyer, instead of my union rep. I kind of…took it nuclear with that.” 

He was ashamed that he’d let his desire to get back at Bobby in that moment force him to react before he considered his options. He still wasn’t sure that the decision to hire a lawyer had been wrong, per se. But his initial reasoning had been. 

“And-and I’m happy that you want me to be part of the team again,” Buck shook his head, steeling himself to say the next part, “But Cap, I don’t think I’m ready to be part of the family again just yet.” 

If it had just been him, this would probably be enough. Bobby apologized and forgave Buck, and Buck would apologize and forgive Bobby in turn and everything would be fine. Or, at least, they’d act like it was. 

But it wasn’t just him. He had someone to protect now, and that gave him a reason to hesitate. He couldn’t offer his trust again until it was earned, tried and proven. 

He could see the sadness in Bobby’s eyes, and it broke Buck’s heart. But all of this was too much, too fast. It didn’t feel real yet. 

“I can understand that,” Bobby swallowed hard. “Baby steps, then. Today was a start. We’ll work our way back up to family.” 

Buck forced back a sob and pulled Bobby into another hug, clinging to him and burying his face in the man’s shoulder. 

“Thanks, pops.” The words were a whisper, just for the two of them. A reminder of what they had had and what Buck desperately hoped they’d be able to rebuild. 

When he stepped back, Bobby’s eyes were wet. “I’ll see you next shift.” 

His exit was dignified, head held up, but Buck could still see the regret on his face. 

“Proud of you, Buckaroo,” Hen smiled from the doorway to the women’s locker room, before hefting her own bag and following Bobby out, Chim close behind her. 

Buck wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand before making his own way out of the station and towards the parking lot. He was nearly to his Jeep when he was stopped by Eddie’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Since you’re not going to Cap’s, maybe Chris and I can come to your place and we can watch some of those hair videos,” He gave a little smirk, teasing and familiar. 

“Eddie,” Buck shook his head, thrown. 

“Come on, Buck,” Eddie pushed, “We miss you.” 

“I miss you guys too,” Buck stepped away from Eddie’s hand, “But I need some time.” 

Eddie frowned, “To forgive Cap, yeah. You two have some stuff to work out. But the rest of us? We weren’t the ones who kept you out of work or that chose to sue the city. We were the collateral damage.” 

It was exactly what Buck had thought, all those weeks ago, after Eddie yelled at him in the grocery store. 

Then Buck had learned that he was a father and he’d had to think about everything differently. When considering telling them about his daughter, Buck had been forced to really examine their behavior towards him; their distrust and infantilizing of him. 

Buck wasn’t innocent, by any means. He’d been impatient and rash, reactionary and unwilling to communicate. He knew that. 

But the rest of the team wasn’t innocent either. Eddie wasn’t innocent. 

“Do you ever think about that day at the grocery store, before I came back to work?” Buck asked, tossing his bag into the back of the Jeep and turning back to the other man.

“What?” Eddie’s frown deepened, anger starting to lace his voice. 

“I went there to a-apologize to all of you,” Buck continued, holding Eddie’s eyes, “and you called me exhausting.” 

Eddie winced, but shook it off quickly, “That was weeks ago, man.” 

“I was crushed by a ladder truck,” Buck took a breath, forcing back the tears that were threatening again, “Had three different surgeries. Lost over 20% of my muscle while I was in that cast. Built myself back up, just to nearly die from a pulmonary embolism, then nearly die again in a natural disaster. And you told me to suck it up.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“And you’ve been treating me like I’m…I’m shirking my duties as your best friend since then,” Buck shook his head, “You act like it’s my responsibility to always be there for you, and for Christopher. And I want to be, I do. But not because I have to be, and not if it only goes one way.”

“One way?” Eddie scoffed, “I helped pull you out from under that truck. I pulled you out of bed when you were too depressed to get out of it yourself. I gave you my son to cheer you up!” 

Buck nodded, because all of that was true. There were reasons Eddie was his best friend. 

But…

“And then you spent weeks glaring at me and barely speaking to me. You accused me of coming to work hungover.” 

“Okay, I was wrong to say that,” Eddie admitted, “But I was angry, Buck. I had a right to be.” 

“Why?” Buck asked, “Why do you have a right to be angry that I sued for my job back? Yeah, okay, I told my lawyer that you came back to work after Shannon’s funeral, but you did. It wasn’t some big secret that I betrayed.” 

“My wife died!” Eddie threw his hands into the air, then stepped forward as if he wanted to get in Buck’s face. There was controlled anger in his tone, and violence in his expression. “She died and I couldn’t even talk to my best friend because of some damn lawsuit that you filed.” 

“I’m sorry, Eds,” A tear escaped Buck’s eye and trailed down his cheek. “I really am. But I was there for you. For weeks after Shannon died, I did everything that I could to help. You know I did. But then I nearly died, and I had to focus on myself.”

Eddie’s fists balled up at his side and he pursed his lips. 

“I know that.” 

“Then why are you so mad at me?” 

Buck was desperate, wanting nothing more than to understand, but he didn’t get it. 

“I’m not,” Eddie took a deep breath, and some of the anger faded from his eyes, “I’m not mad at you. I’m pissed at everything. All of the time. I can’t,” he pursed his lips again, looking up at the sky, “I can’t seem to reign it in.” 

“Have you thought about talking to someone about it? Someone professional?” Buck asked, tentatively. 

He wasn’t a big believer in therapy, not after his one and only session as a probie. But if Eddie really was that angry all of the time, then he needed more than just a chat with his friend. He needed someone who actually knew how to help. 

But Eddie just shook his head and took a step back, “I’m not really a therapy kind of guy,” he forced a laugh. 

“Me either,” Buck admitted, “But maybe —”

“I’m fine, Buck,” Eddie took another step back. 

“You don’t sound fine,” Buck hesitated, then said what he knew Eddie would consider a low blow, but what Eddie maybe needed to hear anyway, “You want Christopher to talk to his therapist. Don’t you think showing him that you’re willing to do the same would help?” 

Eddie’s face hardened again, “Really, Buck? You’re going to give me parenting advice now?” 

“No,” Buck shook his head, “You are the best dad I’ve ever seen. I’m not saying anything you haven’t already considered.” 

Eddie continued to glare, before he turned his back to Buck and cursed under his breath in Spanish. He stood there, breathing hard for several moments. Then he turned back to Buck and spat out, “I’m out of here. Apparently, I have to research therapists tonight.” 

Buck grinned, which caused Eddie to glare harder at him. 

“Give Christopher a hug from me?” Buck was unrepentant, and Eddie’s face thawed just enough that he knew they were on the path to being alright again. 

Really alright, not whatever facade of it that they’d been acting today. 

“Fine. But I expect you to send me those videos tonight. Chris’ picture day is coming up and I need time to practice.” 

Buck agreed, grin widening to a full smile. “Can I call dibs on an 8x10 copy?” 

Eddie gave a curt nod and took the final step back and toward his truck. 

Buck turned away too. He slid into his Jeep and took a moment to breathe, savoring the feeling that things were finally turning around. He pulled out his phone and shot off a text. 

Buck: Day went better than expected. 

Tommy: Glad to hear it!

Buck: Though I’m upset with you.

Tommy: ???

Buck: I saw no less than five (FIVE!) helicopters today and none of them were you.

Tommy: My apologies. 

Tommy: [image]

The photo was a selfie of Tommy sitting on a station couch with a half-eaten eclair in his left hand. There was a blonde woman standing behind him, crouching down to be in the shot, and a latino man sitting on the arm of the couch, giving Tommy bunny ears. 

All of them were in LAFD tshirts, and Buck was pretty sure they were the same two co-workers who’d stolen Tommy’s phone for the impromptu photo shoot a few days ago. 

Buck: Hi to the mysterious co-workers. 

Buck: Also, I’m still jealous of your sugar intake. Life is so unfair.

Tommy: Life’s short. Eat an eclair. You know you want to.

Buck: I do want to! :’(

Tommy: I’d help you work it off. ;) 

Buck laughed and put the Jeep in gear, pulling out of the lot. The two of them hadn’t yet gotten around to the muay thai lessons that Tommy had promised, but Buck did expect it’d be quite the work out when they finally did. 

Chapter Text

“Stand there,” Buck pointed to a spot right behind a chair at the dining room table. On the table in front of the chair, Buck had set up a handheld mirror, his diffuser, comb, towel, and various hair products. 

They’d spent the morning putting out a particularly vicious house fire. When they’d finally made it back to the station, the team had showered and restocked the trucks, then Buck had re-wet his hair and dragged Eddie upstairs to the loft. 

“Why?” Eddie sounded suspicious, even as he stepped into the spot Buck had indicated. 

Buck plopped down in the chair in front of him and handed Eddie the towel. 

“I’ve seen the disastrous attempts at styling that you’ve been putting Chris through, and enough is enough,” Buck grinned. “We’re giving him a break and you’re practicing on me today. That way, I can actually steer you back on course when you mess up.” 

Eddie had been texting photos of his attempts at styling Christopher’s hair over the past few days. Chris had looked more and more grumpy with every failed attempt, and Buck hadn’t been much help in telling Eddie what he was doing wrong since he couldn’t actually see what Eddie was doing as he did it. 

Christopher’s picture day was in two days and last night, Chris had actually stolen Eddie’s phone and called Buck to beg for an intervention so that he didn’t look like “a pouf ball head” — Chris’ words — in his school photo. 

“I’ve watched all the videos you sent and bought everything from your list. Even the stupid expensive blow dryer—”

“Diffuser,” Buck corrected.

“Diffuser. I swear his hair is refusing to cooperate out of spite,” Eddie grumbled, folding his arms around the towel that Buck had passed him. 

“You don’t believe in curses, but you think human hair holds a grudge?” Chimney laughed from where he and Hen were just coming up the stairs, obviously intent on seeing what Buck and Eddie were up to now. 

Everything at the firehouse had been improving over the last few shifts. 

Hen and Chimney and most of the rest of the 118 were all acting more or less back to normal. Eddie and Bobby were both more timid, but Buck could see them trying. 

Bobby had taken to giving Buck an overabundance of compliments every time Buck performed even the smallest act in the station: cooking, cleaning, restocking…Bobby was going out of his way to tell Buck how well he was doing at the everyday normal tasks that he’d been doing for years. Thankfully, his overcompensating ended at the station and he was treating Buck normally during calls and not singling him out in the field. 

Eddie’s temper still flared up from time to time, but now that he’d acknowledged it, he seemed to do better at pulling back and not taking it out on Buck. He had even admitted to Buck that he’d signed up with a new therapist and had his first appointment scheduled for their next day off. 

Buck was still having a hard time trusting it; part of him was waiting for the team to start shouting at him or questioning his every move again. It had been just under a week since Bobby had apologized and let him back in the field. Tommy kept telling him that it wasn’t a lot of time and that Buck was justified in his distrust after everything that had happened following the bombing. 

“You aren’t allowed to judge me until you have kids of your own whose hair you are responsible for styling,” Eddie glared at Chimney. 

Hen snickered and pulled up a stool at the kitchen island. Her and Chimney both sat, facing Buck and Eddie, and made an obvious show of getting comfortable. 

Bobby poked his head out of his office, took one look at the assortment of hair products on the table and Eddie’s glaring face, and wisely disappeared again. 

“Okay, less talking, more drying,” Buck turned his back to Eddie and indicated where his hair was now dripping down the back of his neck. 

Eddie sighed behind him, but stepped forward and awkwardly began rubbing the towel over Buck’s head. 

“Nope,” Buck ducked away from the towel and turned in his chair again to chide, “I thought you said you watched the videos I sent! You start by blotting the curls dry.” 

Eddie made a sound that was more than half growl, “I knew that.” 

“Then why are you abusing my head with that towel?” Buck chuckled at him. 

Eddie swatted him lightly in the face with said towel. “This is a lot of pressure!”

“Says the firefighter,” Hen laughed. 

“I’ll take a burning building over you three judging my hair techniques any day,” Eddie mumbled under his breath. 

“What hair techniques?” Chimney coughed.

“Okay, okay,” Buck turned back around in his seat, “Start again.” 

They spent the next forty minutes with Buck giving Eddie step by step directions through blotting his hair until it was mostly dry, scrunching in the styling foam and pomade, diffusing his hair to get out the last of the water, combing through it lightly to break the cast of the product, then applying a second round of styling foam to add final enhancement to the curls. 

At one point, Hen and Chimney had gotten up and made popcorn, which they tossed at Eddie liberally whenever Buck called him out for any wrong move he made: which was unsurprisingly often. 

Eddie tried to use too much foam and nearly skipped the pomade and focused too much attention at the ends of the hair rather than the roots. He waved the diffuser around like a blow dryer on acid, and then he got a little overzealous with the comb until Buck physically pulled it out of his hands. 

“Once everything is done,” Buck held up the mirror to inspect the final result. It was a little more fluffy than he liked, because of the overuse of the comb, but overall was much improved from Eddie’s attempts with Christopher.  “You can add some hairspray on top to really help hold everything in place. It’s not something I normally do to my own hair, but when…when, uh, you’re doing a kid’s hair, then y-you probably need more of a hold to last the day.” 

Buck had cut himself off from saying when I do Bri’s hair right at the last minute and now fumbled the mirror back down on the table and gave a beaming smile at Eddie. 

Keeping Bri a secret was a lot easier when the team was barely talking to him. 

“Don’t move,” Eddie commanded, grabbing his phone and quickly snapping a photo of Buck, “I need to show Chris the evidence so he actually lets me attempt his hair again.” 

Buck laughed, “I’ll call him later and sing your praises.” 

“You better!” Eddie shook his head, “I worked hard on that,” he gestured to Buck’s head. 

“It doesn’t look half-bad either,” Chimney agreed, “On the other hand, it’s only half good, but hey, that’s progress.” 

Eddie picked the towel back up and threw it at him.

***

The chime of his phone woke Buck up in the middle of the night. 

He’d gotten home in time to make and eat dinner with Bri, play a bit, and read to her before bed. Then he’d reached out to Tommy for their scheduled watch-along, but gotten no response. 

Harbor worked different shift schedules than the rest of the LAFD. 

Because state law mandated that a pilot only fly a maximum of 8 hours per 24 hour period, Tommy’s shifts were never longer than 12 hours, alternating days and nights. They also followed a 10-day-on, 5-day-off schedule that Buck was extremely envious of. 

Whenever their shifts aligned correctly, Buck would spend either their mornings off working out with Tommy or their evenings off doing movie watch-alongs after Bri went to bed. 

Any day that Tommy had off and Buck was home, Tommy came over for at least one meal with Buck and Bri — and usually ended up spending the whole day with them if Buck was also off. 

Tommy had worked 7am to 7pm today and they’d planned to watch A Knight’s Tale together over the phone at 8:30. Tommy had been talking the movie up for the past few days and Buck knew he was really looking forward to it. 

Buck had called Tommy at the scheduled time, then followed it up with multiple (probably too many) check in texts that went unread. 

To say he was worried was an understatement. 

He’d stayed up way too late trying to curb his worry by researching the bone wars of the late 1800s and had finally fallen into a light doze around 2am.

Tommy: Are you awake?

Buck sat up in bed and scrambled to text him back.

Buck: I’m up. Are you okay? What happened tonight?

Tommy: Bad shift. 

The worry that had been plaguing Buck all night doubled. 

Tommy: I can’t stop replaying it in my head. 

Buck: Come over.

The invite was sent before Buck really thought it through, but he didn’t regret it. He pushed himself out of bed, pulling some pants over his boxer briefs as a gentle knock came at the front of the house. 

Tommy must have already been outside his house when he sent the first text, and that had Buck’s heart doing something weird in his chest. 

Foregoing a shirt in favor of quickly getting to his friend, Buck rushed to the front door and pulled it open. 

Tommy was frozen at the door, eyes traveling over Buck’s exposed skin. 

“You were sleeping, weren’t you?” 

Tommy’s eyes were red-rimmed, his hair disheveled. He looked devastated. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Buck shook his head and pulled Tommy into a hug. “This is more important than sleep.”

Tommy nearly collapsed into Buck, and Buck stumbled back half a step before he took Tommy’s weight and stabilized them. One of his arms went tight around Tommy’s lower back, pulling him close to Buck as his other hand ran comforting circles between the man’s shoulder blades. He kicked the door shut and stood there, just holding Tommy, for several moments. 

“Come on, let’s get you to the couch,” Buck finally said. 

He was reluctant to move Tommy, who had buried his face against Buck’s neck and was breathing wetly against his skin. But he figured they’d be more comfortable on the sectional. 

Tommy pulled back enough to look at Buck, “Sorry, I should go. It’s late. I just needed a cuddle.” 

He gave a forced chuckle and shrug, as if that would be all it took for Buck to overlook his red eyes and the way he’d clung to Buck in desperation. 

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Buck shook his head and firmly grabbed Tommy’s hand. “Come on.” 

Buck pulled Tommy to the couch, then sat on the corner seat with his legs up on the short branch of the L shaped sectional. He gestured to the seat beside him and raised his eyebrow until Tommy laid down on the long side of the couch and put his head in Buck’s lap. 

Buck hesitated only a moment, surprised, before his fingers began running through Tommy’s hair. 

Tommy had always been tactile, always ready with a hug or a comforting touch. He’d never seen the man this level of clingy before though, and Buck was desperate to offer whatever comfort that he could. 

Buck cleared his throat and refocused,  “Do you want to talk about what happened?” 

Tommy shook his head, his hair pulling between Buck’s fingers, “You’ve got enough on your plate.” 

Buck frowned, “Hey, none of that. You’ve been here for me since pretty much the second that we met. Let me be here for you.” 

Tommy closed his eyes and turned until his face was gently pressed into Buck’s skin, “It’s not worth getting into.” 

He could feel Tommy’s breath on the bare skin of his stomach, and Buck’s abs jumped once in hypersensitivity before he settled. 

“It is,” Buck insisted. 

When Tommy didn’t say anything further, Buck used his hand in the man’s hair to gently pull him back until he was looking at Buck. “This goes both ways, you know? I’ve told you all my good and bad. I want to hear yours too.”

Tommy stared up at him, face contemplative, “Evan.” 

“I mean it. Good and bad.” 

If Tommy didn’t want to talk about it, Buck would understand, but that didn’t sound like it was what was happening here. He didn’t want Tommy to hold back because he was afraid of adding to Buck’s stress. Buck wanted to be there for Tommy the same way Tommy was there for him. 

Tommy sighed and sat up, turning and throwing his feet down to the floor until he leaned against Buck’s shoulder, “You don’t need to carry my burdens. I’m—”

“The good and the bad,” Buck interrupted, firm. “We take care of each other.” 

Since they had met, it had been almost entirely Tommy looking out for him and for Bri. Buck hadn’t realized how one-sided it was until now. 

Tommy had been so careful with him. Not in a patronizing way, the way Bobby and Maddie had gotten after the bombing. But he’d been going out of his way every day to text Buck, spend his free time with Buck and Bri, make them laugh, help them with anything and everything. He listened to Buck whenever he needed to rant about work or Amelia, and when Buck just wanted to infodump whatever new facts he had been learning. Tommy took the time to listen to all of Bri’s stories, or watch her favorite movies with her. 

The man had been their rock for the past month and Buck wanted, more than anything else in this moment, to be able to be the same for Tommy. 

Buck wrapped an arm around Tommy’s shoulders and pulled the man closer to him, “Please.” 

Tommy exhaled a shaky breath, then whispered, “It was an attempted murder-suicide. The guy killed his wife, but fumbled the gun when he tried to shoot himself. His neighbor heard screaming, then a gun shot, and called it in.” 

Buck closed his eyes against the pain in Tommy’s voice, then opened them again and turned his head to watch Tommy’s profile as the man spoke. 

“When we landed, we headed for the wife first. The shape she was in, it was obvious she was DOA. He’d done a number on her. It wouldn’t have been a quick death. But he was still breathing, so we had to load him up and medevac that bastard out of there. We had to fight to keep him alive until we reached the hospital. I was piloting. Never even had to touch him. But I couldn’t get the sight of his wife out of my head. We couldn’t save her, but we saved her abuser; her murderer. I can’t stop picturing it. Picturing her. We failed her.” 

Tommy’s voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes staring blankly at the black screen of the TV across from them. His tone was flat, void of all emotion, but tears were silently rolling down the man’s cheeks. 

“I’ve got you,” Buck whispered, pulling Tommy in again until the man rested his head on Buck’s shoulder and Buck could bury his face in Tommy’s hair, “I’m so sorry. I’m here. I’ve got you.” 

Buck kept repeating it until the tears stopped coming and the man sat up and scrubbed his palms against his eyes. Buck turned in the corner of the sectional, pulling his legs up and then stretching them out on either side of Tommy and pulling the man back in until he was leaning against Buck’s chest and Buck’s arms were wrapped tightly around him once more.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated again. 

“I know,” Tommy whispered, nose finding the edge of Buck’s jaw. 

Buck flushed and his pulse spiked at the feeling of Tommy in his arms, nose against his jaw. Tommy’s smell was everywhere, overloading Buck’s senses and causing him to tighten his arms even further around the man. Every cell in his body was urging him to hold, protect…cherish. 

His mind scrambled back to Eddie styling his hair earlier that day. Eddie had had his fingers in Buck’s hair, but they’d been quick and efficient. Even when he’d been playful, Eddie had chosen to smack at Buck with the towel. 

When things were good between them, he and Eddie had been buried in each other’s pockets — they took care of each other and of Christopher. They had each other’s backs at work. They bumped shoulders, knocked forearms in solidarity, even hugged on occasion. 

Buck had never had the urge to hold Eddie, or to cherish him. Not like this. 

Their relationship was friendly even in its physicality. 

This was something altogether different. 

There was no universe in which anything about the way he’d been touching Tommy tonight could be considered platonic. 

Buck’s mind was racing with sudden, unexpected, possibility. 

Because it wasn’t just the way that he had been touching Tommy. It was the way that Tommy repeatedly leaned into it. Tommy’s hands were holding tightly to the arm wrapped around his chest, fingers dragging idly back and forth across the tattooed lines that circled his forearm. Every time he breathed out, Buck could feel Tommy’s breath across his neck and jaw. 

Buck had raced to Tommy’s side without even pulling on a shirt, and now everywhere Tommy was in contact with Buck’s skin was on fire and Buck wanted more. 

He wanted to pull Tommy even closer to him. Wrap his outstretched legs around Tommy’s and tangle them together until he couldn’t tell where Tommy ended and Buck began. 

It wasn’t the right time for any of these thoughts, and a voice in the back of Buck’s mind was whispering selfish, selfish, selfish.

Except…

Tommy had come to him after a rough shift, and said he needed a cuddle. 

Buck forced himself to acknowledge that he was giving Tommy exactly what he asked for, and that enjoying it didn’t make him selfish. 

He wasn’t trying to push this into anything sexual. That wasn’t what he wanted right now. 

He was just bowled over by the knowledge that whatever this was between them could be more. That it held the possibility of tumbling over into the sexual. 

That it already was more than platonic. That it bordered on romantic. 

Because yes, holding Tommy in his arms felt right and perfect and gloriously delicious. 

But it was more than that. 

It was the way Buck craved to spend every free moment with the man. The way he trusted him, implicitly, and turned to him whenever Buck needed reassurance or support. The way he wanted to be the person Tommy turned to in those same kinds of moments. 

How he cared for the other man and how just the thought of him, the chime of his phone going off with a text from him, was enough to make Buck light up. 

How the sight of him playing with Buck’s daughter sent a feeling like melted chocolate through Buck’s center. 

Buck was suddenly sure that, at least on his side, this feeling had already crossed that border into romantic. 

He wasn’t sure when that had happened, but he was pretty sure it had been a good while ago. 

***

“Tommy!” 

Bri’s shout woke Buck, just in time to see his daughter climb onto the sofa to lay down on top of Tommy, who was still laying against Buck’s chest and between his legs; Buck’s arms still holding Tommy close. 

“Did you have a sleepover?” Bri asked the suddenly wide-awake Tommy. 

Tommy looked up at Buck, panicked, and for once Buck was pretty sure he understood why: This thing between them wasn’t one-sided. Tommy felt it too, and wasn’t sure what or how much to say in front of Bri. 

Buck grinned, bright and way too happy for this early in the morning, “Yup.” He popped the “p” and Bri giggled, sitting back up and bouncing on their entangled legs. “And I bet if you ask really, really nicely, Tommy might even stay for breakfast.” 

Bri’s giggles suddenly cut off and she turned her most pleading expression on Tommy, “Please? If you stay, Daddy will make blueberry french toast.” 

They’d learned that was a favorite of Tommy’s, and Buck had made it for him a handful of times already. He always dusted extra powdered sugar across Tommy’s plate, too. 

Buck took a moment to silently acknowledge that he was an idiot for not realizing his feelings sooner. 

“I could go for some french toast,” Tommy smiled, surprisingly shy. 

“Yay!” Bri crawled off their legs and grabbed Tommy by the hand, physically trying to pull him off of the couch. Tommy chuckled and got to his feet so that Bri could turn her efforts to Buck. 

Buck pretended that her pull was too strong and flung himself off of the couch and onto the floor with an oof, just to hear her laugh. 

He picked himself up and headed to the kitchen to begin pulling out ingredients while Tommy talked Bri into going back to her room to change out of her pajamas. 

Buck began whipping the eggs, eyes darting between the bowl and Tommy as the man crossed the room to sit on a bar stool across the counter from Buck. 

“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep,” Tommy apologized. 

Buck set down the bowl and sprinkled in cinnamon and vanilla, “You weren’t the only one who did.” 

Tommy nodded once, reaching across the counter to grab the bread and sliding it closer to Buck so he could start dipping it in the egg. Buck was helpless at the way it pulled Tommy’s shirt tight across his chest and biceps. Buck licked his lips. 

Huh. 

Maybe he hadn’t just been noticing the man’s physique because of muscle envy. 

“Still. I didn’t plan on shocking Bri like that.” 

Buck paused in turning toward the stovetop, looking back at Tommy, “Is this a Mandela Effect moment? Cause I woke up to a little girl who was absolutely thrilled to find out her favorite person was in the house.” Pink stained Tommy’s cheeks and it gave Buck the courage to attempt a small, deliberate, flirt. He tilted his head down and to the side, looking up at the other man through his lashes as he added, “So was her Daddy.”

The pink darkened and Buck was enchanted. 

He licked his lips again and watched as Tommy’s eyes followed the movement of his tongue. 

“Look at me!” Bri shouted, sliding into the kitchen and tossing figurative cold water on Buck’s suddenly flaring libido. 

Bri was wearing purple, galaxy patterned leggings and a dark blue top with EVE from Wall-E on the front. She’d pulled her hair up into a loose and messy ponytail and had on bright pink socks. 

Buck smiled, “You look fantastic! Great job sticking to the space theme too.” 

Bri beamed and turned to Tommy expectantly. 

“Beautiful, as always, Princess,” Tommy said softly, expression warm and fond. 

Buck turned away before he melted into a puddle right on the spot. 

How had he missed this? 

He kept his back to Tommy and Bri as he worked on breakfast, listening to Bri recap the entire plot of Wall-E as she understood it. Buck loved listening to her retell him stories, showing off how her mind worked and how she comprehended the world. 

“Bri, baby, will you get cups and forks for the table?” 

Buck had set up his kitchen specifically with Bri in mind. All of his dishware was plastic and stored in the lower cabinets by the fridge so that Bri could reach them. It was her job to set the table for meals, and he didn’t want her climbing on a ladder to do so. 

“Okay, Daddy,” Bri ran to the kitchen and gently pushed Buck out of her way, opening the cabinet and pulling out plates first, which Buck took from her so he could load them with the french toast as it finished cooking. She pulled out the cups next and speed walked back to the table to set them in their places, then returned to the kitchen for forks. 

“Do you want juice or milk with breakfast?” Tommy asked Bri, heaving himself off the stool and toward the fridge. 

“Milk!” 

“Milk it is,” Tommy pulled it out and filled each cup on the table, then replaced it in the fridge. He pulled out the butter and syrup and walked those to the table. 

It was routine, easy and fluid. They’d only known each other for a month, but they’d had enough meals together now that everyone had their roles and knew how to work together smoothly. 

The domesticity of it all was really hitting Buck this morning, after the previous night’s epiphany, and he had the sudden urge to wrap his arms around Tommy and pull him into a kiss. 

He stole a blueberry from the container in the man’s hands instead, bringing it to his mouth and extending his tongue to place the berry deliberately in the middle. He maintained eye contact with Tommy as he pulled the berry into his mouth and sucked gently on it before chewing. 

Tommy swallowed hard, frozen in place. His pupils were huge. 

Oh yeah, this definitely wasn’t just one sided.