Archive of Our Own

Margaret and Phillip knew, of course, that their children had lives beyond what they knew about.

In fact, there was a period of time where they knew virtually nothing about what was happening with Maddie or Evan. 

A period where they would get questions like ‘oh, what are your children up to nowadays’ and have to answer in as little detail as possible – ‘Maddie is a nurse; yes, she finds it very rewarding’; ‘Evan has been travelling, trying to find himself, you know how twenty-year-olds are’ – before swiftly moving the topic along in order to obfuscate the fact that they didn’t actually have any further information to provide. 

Maddie, they at least knew where to find even after the irregular phone calls entirely petered off (“Due to that man’s interference, I’m sure,” Margaret told Phillip scathingly the first year she didn’t get a customary phone call on her birthday.) 

Her phone number remained the same even if she never answered it and they could take a small amount of comfort from that. 

But Evan – he left one day with a duffle bag and the keys to Maddie’s Jeep and Margaret and Phillip had been sure he would be back within the week but time moved swiftly and the next thing they knew it had been over three months and they hadn’t heard a word from him.

When they realised how long it had been, Phillip had picked up the phone and tried to call Evan.

It rang out, and they had an amused chuckle over the drama of it all. 

“Still not ready to talk, apparently,” Phillip said, shaking his head and sighing frustratedly as he returned the cordless phone to its cradle. 

“How did both of our children end up that way?” Margaret asked rhetorically, also shaking her head. 

(The answer was that they had grown up in a house of secrets even if Evan didn’t have the memories needed to truly understand the heavy atmosphere that lay over their home. 

But Margaret and Phillip were too entrenched in their grief, too sure that they had done the only thing feasible for their family to move on, that they could never recognise how their children had been warped by it.)

Except the similarities with Maddie’s situation ended there because two months later Phillip got their phone bill in the mail and Evan’s cell number had been removed from their account. 

Sorry, this number is out of service, was the robotic message they got when they hit the speed dial for their son’s phone. 

And all of a sudden, their lack of knowledge about what their son was doing was absolute as the one potential avenue they had to get in touch with him was stripped away. 

“And what if he does something reckless and gets badly injured or, god forbid, he dies,” Margaret fumed, almost on the verge of hyperventilating as she tried to distract herself with throwing dinner together. “How will anyone know to get in touch with us?” 

Evan had ended up in hospital with startling regularity as a child. Margaret had hated it every time it happened, the memories of Daniel lying in the middle of a large hospital bed, weak and dying, threatening to overwhelm her every time. 

She had to limit the time she spent in those stark walls which smelled of antiseptic in order to maintain her composure which was the original reason that Phillip had bought him his own cell phone. It meant that he could call them when he was ready to be picked up and she could bring him home each time he injured himself doing something reckless without having to deal with the pain of those memories. 

Did Evan even understand what it would be like, without his parents there to support him the next time he got injured, she wondered. 

“Our number hasn’t changed,” Phillip reminded her calmly, acting as the voice of reason in spite of the frown of disappointment that was marring his face. “And we’re still his next of kin so they’ll contact us in an emergency. But who knows – maybe this travelling will cure him of the recklessness.”

“We can only hope,” she muttered caustically. 

(“Look at that, he lives,” Bobby proclaimed dryly when Buck blinked his eyes open, wondering how in the world he had ended up in a room with his captain when the last thing he remembered was sitting across from Abby and nervously eating bread. 

He looked around disorientedly and realised he was in a hospital room and his captain was slouching against an uncomfortable looking chair, his uniform wrinkled and the small wheeled table in front of him littered with several paper cups that must have held coffee at some point but were now wrinkled as though someone had been gripping them tightly in between drinking. 

“Abby had to go relieve her mother’s carer,” Bobby informed him, leaning forward and giving him a smile that only slightly eased the lines of worry around his eyes. “Doc says you should be fine to go a few hours after you wake up if you have someone at home to look after you –” 

“Uh,” Buck said blankly, still struggling to catch up on what had happened and also slightly worried about that instruction because he did not want to stay in the hospital but ‘terrible roommates who sustained themselves almost entirely with weed and pizza’ probably didn’t constitute ‘someone who can look after you.’

“You can crash at mine for a couple of nights,” Bobby continued seamlessly. “We’re off for another two days so I can keep any eye on you.”

“Uh,” Buck said again, but this time it was because he honestly couldn’t work out quite how to respond to that offer.

It hadn’t been what he had expected when he put his captain down as his emergency contact. 

If he was honest, he hadn’t even been completely convinced the man would show up in a situation like this. He had just figured that if it was a workplace injury it was easy enough for decisions to be made and there was probably at least a slightly higher likelihood that Bobby would pick up a phone call from a hospital than either his parents or his sister would be given he hadn’t spoken to any of them in years.

“Thanks,” he eventually settled on saying, feeling strangely vulnerable when Bobby just gave him another small smile and then launched into a proper explanation of how he had ended up here.

“Chim is never going to let me live this down,” he moaned when he finally realised it was the goddamn bread that sent him to the hospital.

“Fairly certain you’ve already got some texts on your phone,” Bobby chuckled.)

And so all they could say about Evan was that he was travelling and then they would try to change the subject before requests for pictures could be made or questions about places he’d visited could be raised. 

That lasted for years. 

For years, they had no contact from Maddie and no avenue to even try to contact Evan. 

And then one day, they were quietly enjoying a movie in their living room when the phone rang. They exchanged a disgruntled glance – who could be calling them at this time of night? – but Phillip rose from the couch and picked up the phone. 

“Buckley residence,” he said, a touch impatiently, and then his face went slack. “Evan?” 

Margaret sat up in alarm. After all of this time, she found it hard to believe that Evan was calling without there being something dramatic lying behind it. She gestured impatiently for Phillip to switch the phone to loudspeaker.

“I thought you should know that Maddie is in the hospital and Doug is dead,” Evan said bluntly, his voice a little hoarse. 

(Was that because he was older or was it because of stress, Phillip couldn’t help but wonder. 

Evan would be twenty-six now, no longer the barely-adult that had stormed out of their house; it made sense that his voice would have changed. His face might have lost some of its boyishness too. 

He ignored the discomfiting feeling that squirmed in his stomach when he realised that he didn’t know the answer and didn’t know how to find out.)   

“What do you mean Doug is dead?” Margaret demanded, “and Maddie –”

“Maddie killed him,” Evan cut her off bluntly. “He was attacking her – he was going to – she got to him first. She fought him, and she won.”

“Is she at Dou – the same hospital where she works?” Phillip asked, still baffled and trying to work out the most pertinent pieces of information they should know.

“Uh, no,” Evan said, and now he sounded surprised. “Um, she’s – he took her to Big Bear so we took her to a hospital here to get her stabilised but she’s gonna be transferred to Cedars-Sinai in LA soon.” 

“In – in LA? As in Los Angeles in California?” Margaret said, staring at Phillip who looked just as surprised as her.

“Uh, yeah. She moved here last year to be – well, she was only going to drop by and say hi to me but she decided to stay after all,” Evan explained. He seemed distracted all of a sudden, his voice sounding faded like he was looking at something away from his phone speaker. 

“You’re in Los Angeles?” Phillip clarified, feeling baffled with this sudden influx of new information.

“Yeah, I am. I’m a firefighter with the LAFD,” Evan explained shortly, still distracted. 

“A firefighter?” Margaret questioned, her anxiety rising because why would her irresponsible and accident-prone son pick such a dangerous profession?

Evan ignored her. “Listen, the police wanna interview Maddie so I’m gonna go sit with her.”

They kept staring at each other as the call cut out, wondering if it was actually better to have had this tiny snapshot into their children’s lives considering the conversation had created far more questions than it answered. 

The question of whether they should go to the hospital hovered over them but ultimately they reasoned that there was no point when it was almost on the other side of the country. 

Their children had seemingly reconnected now that they lived in the same city again, so what could they possibly provide that Evan and Maddie couldn’t get from each other anyway?

It would spare them the pain of walking through those walls that looked the same no matter the city and brought to mind that experience that had scarred them so terribly. 

They decided to send flowers instead and Margaret picked a nice card which said ‘Thinking of you.’

(“You are allowed in there as silent moral support,” Athena told Buck bluntly, standing between him and the door to Maddie’s hospital room to ensure he paid attention to her. “Emphasis on the silent. I have briefed the officer and he knows the situation so this is all us crossing the t’s and dotting the i’s. Got it?” 

“But what if –” Buck started to protest, shutting his mouth when Athena gave him a pointed glare, Bobby’s order from earlier that day echoing in his head. 

“Silent,” she repeated, handing him a large takeaway cup. “If you feel the urge to speak, you take a sip of that instead.” 

“Fine,” Buck acquiesced grumpily, taking the coffee since that probably also counted as listening to what Athena told him to do. He felt way too amped up to be drinking coffee though and he couldn’t stop his leg from jiggling with nerves every time the officer asked something that made Maddie avert her gaze or made her eyes fill with tears. 

He made a noise at one point even though he was trying desperately not to utter an actual word and Athena poked his shoulder and shifted her own coffee cup meaningfully.

When he lifted the cup to take a sip, he was surprised when his mouth filled with the sweet taste of hot chocolate made with coconut milk instead of the bitterness of a strong coffee.

Once the interview finished, Athena patted his shoulder and gave him an approving ‘good job’ which he thought probably shouldn’t feel quite as nice as it did. 

He checked his phone while the nurses made the preparations needed to transport Maddie to an LA hospital and saw that several texts had come in: from Hen, letting him know that Chim was stable and asking about Maddie; from Eddie, asking how both he and Maddie were holding up.

And from Bobby: Athena says you guys should be at Cedars by 9. I’ll pick you up at 9:30 so you have time to get Maddie settled. You can stay at my place for a couple days. 

Buck wanted to reply and say that it wasn’t necessary but, well, the thought of having to return to the apartment that was full of evidence of how badly Buck had broken the promise he had made to Maddie to keep her safe was torturous and he was kind of glad to have the excuse to put it off for at least a day.

It ended up being more like five days, and when he returned to the apartment the day before Maddie was due to be discharged it was with Eddie and Bobby and Athena and Hen at his side to help him rid the apartment of any indication of Doug’s presence.)

But now they had more to say about their children when they got asked about them and the barrier of mutinous silence seemed to have been broken because Maddie sent Margaret a text on her birthday which indicated to them that the lines of communication had finally been reopened. 

Except the lines of communications being opened did not herald good news: the next time they received a phone call it was once again to relay the news that one of their children was in the hospital. 

“He has a long recovery ahead of him, but he’s going to be fine,” Maddie told them, sounding remarkably calm. “Evan’s captain said he can talk to you about the injury if you want to know more.”

“It was a workplace injury?” Phillip clarified, hand over his mouth. “A fire?”

“No – well, yes, it was at work, but it wasn’t a fire. It’s a long story, Dad,” Maddie said, sounding a little impatient. “Do you want me to get Bobby – Captain Nash – to speak with you?”

“No, no, that’s fine,” Phillip said, glancing at Margaret to confirm. 

There was no point in bothering Evan’s boss about this; they were sure he would have a lot more urgent matters on his plate than worrying about speaking with the parents of an injured subordinate. 

And it would probably also be terribly awkward for Maddie to have to go to Evan’s workplace and request for him to call them. They didn’t want to put her through that when she was stressed about having to look after her brother.

What could possibly be gained from taking up that offer?

(“Do they want to speak with me?” Bobby asked when Maddie walked back into the hospital room. He was taking the opportunity of Buck having been taken for another x-ray to tidy the room up and organise some of the things that had been brought in by their friends over the last few days.  

“No, they said it was fine,” Maddie answered shortly, face set in a way that stopped Bobby from asking any further follow-up questions. 

Instead, he texted Athena and asked if she would be up for having their planned take-away dinner at the hospital.)

They did think about going to Los Angeles that time. 

But Maddie had told them that Evan was going to be sent home soon and would be focused on recovery, and really what help would their presence bring?

Margaret knew her son, and she knew he would never allow them to interfere in his attempts to get active again; it had been a constant argument any time he got injured. 

(“The physio said you should be doing it 10 times, Buck,” Christopher insisted, pointing to the list of reps neatly printed against a stick figure showing the exercise he was supposed to be doing. 

“You’re a cruel taskmaster, kid,” Buck claimed breathlessly. 

Chris just looked back balefully, unimpressed with his complaining, so he got into position to finish off his exercises and tried to ignore the way Eddie was failing to stifle his laughter over where he was putting clothes in Buck’s washing machine.)

So they asked Maddie for Evan’s address instead. 

She prevaricated, saying that he had just moved and she had been there in person but didn’t know the postal address and she would check with him. 

The next day, they got a text from an unknown number: first an address and then a simple Maddie said you wanted my address. 

They sent flowers – Margaret chose a very tasteful card that said ‘Get Better Soon’ over a background of a lush forest – and a care package of pre-packaged foods so that Evan wouldn’t have to rely entirely on take-out and then Phillip found the listing for the apartment online and used the phone number they had just received to transfer Evan enough cash to cover his rent for a few months. 

To help out while you’re recovering, son, he texted. 

Thanks. You didn’t have to, was what he got back which was short but it was progress. 

(“I am so done,” Buck raged, collapsing on the floor when his leg gave out on him before he could finish the full suite of exercises he was working on. “This fucking sucks.”  

“Yeah, it does, but you’ll get through it,” Bobby said patiently, crossing the room and crouching so he could help Buck lever himself back up to his feet. 

“Or not,” Buck spat bitingly, averting his eyes. He didn’t want his captain to see how they were sparkling with tears of frustration and helplessness because his leg still refused to fully cooperate and he was honestly terrified that it never would.  

“You can have a bite to eat and then try it again when you’ve got a bit more energy,” Bobby said calmly, helping him stand and carefully leading him over to the kitchen where a large pot of hearty beef stew had been placed on a trivet next to a tray of freshly-baked cookies.

“You don’t have to do all of this,” Buck said when he was about halfway through his stew, now feeling embarrassed about his lashing out and the frustration he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“It’s just helping out while you’re recovering, kid,” Bobby said absent-mindedly, focused on the list he was jotting down of groceries that he needed to get to re-stock Buck’s kitchen.)

They had Evan’s phone number and his address and they had Maddie’s phone number. For the first time in years, they knew where both their children were and they were able to communicate with them. 

The communication wasn’t regular and admittedly it was more common that they spoke with Maddie rather than Evan (there was yet another call about some injury Evan managed to get a few months after his workplace injury, something about throwing up blood on his coworker which was mortifying but hopefully they wouldn’t hold it against him. They sent flowers again, this time without a card.)

Suddenly, questions about how Maddie and Evan were doing could be answered with more detail and the topic didn’t have to be rushed onwards.

“He’s a firefighter in Los Angeles,” Phillip explained to an old acquaintance who they saw every year at the same party.

“She’s decided to start working as a 9-1-1 dispatcher,” Margaret responded to a question from an old work colleague she ran into at the supermarket. 

And then they got the news that filled them with happiness and gave them yet another snippet to share. 

“Maddie is pregnant,” Margaret told Phillip delightedly as soon as he walked in the door. 

“I didn’t even know she was seeing someone new,” Phillip replied, looking surprised. 

“No, neither did I – apparently Evan introduced them.”

“Evan introduced them?” Phillip said, frowning. “Is he –”

“His name is Howard and he’s a paramedic,” Margaret cut in, because she knew that Phillip would have the same reaction she’d had when Maddie had told her how she had met the father of her new baby. “They work together.”

After all, no friend of Evan’s could possibly be mature enough to raise a child but a work friend was different. 

She did hope that things weren’t too awkward for Evan, having to see a work friend in a personal context on the occasions he visited his sister but hopefully he recognised that this would be good for Maddie and he wouldn’t inject drama into the situation. 

“Oh, well, that’s nice,” Phillip commented, his tense shoulders relaxing at the assurance. “We’re going to be grandparents.”

“We are,” Margaret agreed, her beaming smile sliding off her face as the implications of that set in. “Do you think – do you think they might – might – who do you think the baby will take after?”

Phillip’s face softened and he came closer to put a bracing arm around her. “We’ll get through it no matter how it turns out,” he said softly. 

There might have been a bittersweet overlay on the situation, but the fact was that their family was expanding. It was good news and it was made even better when Maddie decided to invite them to Los Angeles when she was halfway through her pregnancy. 

They were going to get the opportunity to see their children again and, while Margaret was worried about how she would react to seeing Maddie pregnant when the memories of her own pregnancies were now tied up in her feelings about Daniel’s illness and death, the prospect of gaining a grandchild made going through that pain worth it.

It was going to be another progressive step towards fixing their family. 

And that first dinner felt like exactly that progressive step except then the second dinner ended with Evan storming out in his typically dramatic fashion and Maddie left the table in tears and it was just them and Howard looking at each other awkwardly over the top of a baby box that was supposed to inspire recollections of joy. 

Then Maddie told them that she told Evan the truth and Margaret and Phillip didn’t know how to handle that. They had kept it a secret for a reason, it was too painful for everyone involved to be forced to reckon with this particular ghost. 

(They didn’t understand that not speaking of it hadn’t stopped their children from having to reckon with it throughout their entire lives.)

Margaret had been convinced that it would be too difficult to get through but the prospect of returning to Hershey when they weren’t on speaking terms with either of their children was simply too much to bear, especially in light of the imminent arrival of their grandchild, so they went to visit Evan’s station. 

“He’s getting checked out at the hospital,” Howard explained, leading them upstairs when they indicated that they would prefer to wait and see him.

They thought about going to his home since they did, of course, have his address. But they weren’t sure when he would get there and Margaret also didn’t want to sour the healing talk she was hoping to have by the instinctive reaction she wouldn’t be able to hide when she saw the mess her son would undoubtedly be living in.

There was a young dark-haired man in the kitchen when they got upstairs, perhaps a few years older than Evan, and he almost seemed to be scrutinising them when he noticed their entrance. 

“I, uh, hope Evan didn’t manage to do anything too serious to himself,” Phillip commented, addressing Howard.

“We responded to a large factory fire,” Howard started to answer, but he was interrupted by the man in the kitchen.

“He made sure that we saved every last victim even though it put him at risk.” 

The man was staring at them intently, like he was expecting a reaction, and Phillip was impressed at the bravery his son must have shown but he wasn’t sure what else this man was looking for.

“That’s our Buck – never gives up,” a black woman sitting on the nearby couches added fondly. 

Margaret hid her wince. 

“Stubborn was definitely one of the key words used to describe him when he was growing up,” she said lightly, making Phillip chuckle in agreement. 

The man in the kitchen dropped his mug in the sink and muttered something about waiting downstairs. 

“Evan seems to be quite popular with his coworkers,” Phillip commented approvingly after they’d been made a cup of tea and left alone to wait. 

A few other firefighters had floated through the kitchen in those few minutes and piled on more compliments about their son once Howard had introduced them. 

It was nice to hear that they had succeeded in raising their son to be a good person and it was also a comfort to know that Evan was well supported in his work environment. Phillip worried, somewhat, about his personal life and whether he would ever feel the urge to settle down properly but he supposed it was good that he was focused on work and not just floating around listlessly from dead-end job to dead-end job. 

And then Evan finally arrived – healthy, thank god, because Margaret didn’t think she could handle the idea of a hospital visit on top of everything else that had happened on this trip – and they shared those insights like an olive branch. 

He seemed to accept it, because he looked at them and said, “Buck. People who know me call me Buck,” and it felt like another step forward. 

Margaret spoke tentatively, because it still felt so fragile, but she managed to get through it.

She told Evan that he had been born to save people and now he did it every day and she meant the compliment because it gave her solace that something good arose from her pain and suffering.

And Evan accepted it, and he gave them a smile, and they returned to Hershey gratified that they had succeeded at repairing their relationship with their son so well. 

(The fact was that they hadn’t seen a true smile from Evan in many, many years, and so they didn’t recognise that the smile he gave them was a poor replica of his usual infectious wide grin that transformed his entire demeanour.

That smile only appeared once they had left and the crew came upstairs and Eddie slipped him a cough drop because he had noticed that Buck’s throat was still feeling sensitive, and Chimney and Hen started teasing him about being the favourite because their captain was insisting that Buck wasn’t allowed to leave until he had eaten a full breakfast and also done the breathing exercises that Bobby had found online and printed out an instruction sheet for.)

The six months that followed that visit involved the most consistent communication they’d had with their children since they both still lived under their roof. They maintained a monthly family therapy session until Maddie got too overwhelmed with juggling her new baby and returning to work.

And then communication dropped off to the same frequency as before, where Maddie and Evan – Buck, he preferred Buck, and Margaret had almost trained herself out of shuddering at the nickname – called on their birthdays and they did the same. 

It was frustrating, that they had felt like they’d made so much progress only for it to disappear at the whims of their emotional children once again.

But then Howard showed up at their front door and they found out that Maddie had left her daughter in Los Angeles to escape to god knows where. 

“How could she abandon this little angel?” Margaret lamented sadly, bringing over a bowl which held a banana she had quickly mashed for the lack of anything else she could give a baby. 

(“Why is there baby food in our pantry?” May asked, perplexed, shutting the door with a bag of chips in hand. 

“Just in case Maddie and Chimney drop by with the baby,” Athena answered casually, not even looking up from the article she was reading.) 

She almost couldn’t believe that the daughter she had raised would do such a thing, but then again Maddie always did have a tendency to run from her problems. 

Howard didn’t seem overly impressed when she said that to him later, once Jee-Yun was snoozing in her car seat, and she couldn’t blame him for being annoyed. She only hoped that he forgave Maddie because they seemed like such a good pair. 

“Buck – Evan – thought she might have gone to Boston,” Howard explained, his eyes roaming around their living room, presumably taking in the set of staged pictures from Maddie and Evan’s childhoods they had displayed in beautiful matching silver frames.

“That’s where she went to college,” Phillip said, frowning. “I don’t see why she would go back there though.”

“You’re better off just waiting for her to come to her senses,” Margaret advised, sighing. 

Howard’s face was inscrutable when he left not long after that. 

(“Did you find her?” Buck asked breathlessly, picking up the phone on the third ring even though it would be almost midnight in Los Angeles.

“No, and your parents had no idea where she was either,” Chim answered shortly. 

Buck snorted. “Well, I could’ve told you that.” 

It was silent for a long moment; their relationship was still a little bit awkward after the blow-up they’d had before Chimney had left to search for Maddie. 

“Look, I just – part of me is still mad at you,” Chim explained frankly, blowing out a long breath. His soft tone, however, seemed to contradict his words. “But after visiting – considering how you grew up, I can see why you and Maddie built the relationship you did, why you always keep her secrets. I just wanted to tell you that I get it, and I get why you didn’t tell me even though I still wish you had. Both of you are too damn used to being alone.”

He pretended that he didn’t understand what the sharp intake of breath on the other side of the line signified.)

Exactly as they expected, Maddie returned home to Howard and Jee-Yun and things returned to some semblance of normality. 

Now when they got asked about their children, they could show the video Maddie had sent them of their granddaughter taking her first steps or the picture of Howard and Evan looking handsome in their firefighting uniforms. 

When Maddie mentioned during one phone call that she and Howard were having problems getting approved for a mortgage, they seized at the opportunity. 

“Would a more sizable down payment help?” Phillip asked. “We can help with that.” 

Maddie had been surprised but grateful when they insisted on providing the whole thing and they were happy to know that their granddaughter would have a stable roof over her head.

Cognisant of the insights they’d gained in this last year about how delicate their children were about perceived slights, Phillip also made sure to let Evan know that the same offer would be there for him “when you finally decide to settle down.”

The new house also gave them an excuse to organise another visit to Los Angeles and they seized on that opportunity as well. 

Evan picked them up from the airport and they had a pleasant conversation despite the terrible traffic that slowed their journey down. 

Dinner was also far more pleasant this time around, even with the unexpected addition of Howard’s family. 

Evan’s news about fathering another man’s child certainly wasn’t ideal but they both thought they dealt with it quite well by drawing on the knowledge they’d gained in therapy about how sensitive their children were. 

They made sure to praise Evan’s selflessness and defend him from the nosy older Han and they were rewarded for it with a warm and relaxing evening.  

All in all, they were content with this snapshot they’d received of their childrens’ lives – although Margaret was still disappointed that Maddie and Howard weren’t expecting another baby. 

However, it did seem as though they were settled into their new house and Evan was still getting along well with Howard despite the awkwardness of having his almost-brother-in-law as a colleague. 

They expected that they would be returning to Pennsylvania with new pictures to show off and new anecdotes to share, but of course the universe could never be so kind to them.

“It’s Buck – they’ve taken him to the hospital,” Maddie said, staring at them in shock for a moment before shaking it off and moving. 

“What – Maddie –” Phillip tried to ask, but Maddie was a whirlwind of activity, throwing on her jacket, wrestling a jumper onto a sleepy Jee-Yun, shoving her feet into sneakers, moving from surface to surface to collect her keys, phone, a diaper bag.

Phillip looked at her, frowning, and Margaret’s heartbeat ratcheted up. Her child was in a hospital, again – could she bear to go and see him in that environment that held so many terrible memories? 

She steadied herself; they were here and Evan was injured, what other choice did they have? So she gave Phillip the smallest nod, the grief catching in her throat at the action.

“I’ll drive,” Phillip said calmly, taking the keys from Maddie’s full hand, getting an absent-minded nod in return as she turned her attention to her phone instead. 

They weren’t really sure what to expect when they arrived at the hospital but the news that their son was in a coma was definitely not at the top of the list. 

“The next twenty-four hours will be critical,” Evan’s captain told them, his voice gravelly. He looked stressed and exhausted and Phillip wondered just how bad the situation had gotten for Evan to end up so badly injured and the captain so terribly shaken. 

Maddie insisted on seeing him first and they gracefully allowed it, grateful to get a momentary reprieve from having to see another one of their children dying in a hospital bed. 

Howard went with her, his face lined with grief at seeing how devastated she was, and Margaret whispered to her husband that she was at least happy to see that Maddie had such an empathetic partner.

And then it was their turn to enter. 

It was everything that they feared: their son, lying lifeless on the bed, kept alive purely by the machines connected to various parts of his body. 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Margaret said helplessly, her eyes filling with tears. 

How could she possibly be expected to watch her remaining son die? 

“The doctors haven’t given up hope yet,” Phillip reminded her, wrapping a bracing arm around her shoulders. “We’ll just take it one day at a time.”

Margaret went to take her son’s hand in his, because that was what parents did when they had to stand at their child’s deathbed, wasn’t it?

Only – there was something cold and metallic in Evan’s hand which was impeding her and she raised it, puzzled, so she could try and work out what it was. Perhaps another set of machinery that was monitoring Evan’s vital signs?

“Since when does Evan wear jewellery?” Phillip asked, brow furrowed in confusion when he saw the small medallion dangling from the chain which had been wrapped around Evan’s hand. 

“It looks like – a St Christopher medallion,” Margaret said, dredging up long-forgotten knowledge from a religion she had forsaken after her son died. 

Phillip looked baffled. “Why would Evan have something like that?”

“He’s the patron saint of travellers,” she recalled, holding the small round medallion carefully between her fingers. “And I think he protects against sudden death? Perhaps Maddie or Howard gave it to him?”

That answer didn’t feel quite right, though, because the only times they had ever taken their children to church was for sacraments that friends of theirs invited them to, so Maddie didn’t have any particular connection to catholicism as far as they were aware. 

They had never gotten the impression that Howard was particularly religious either.

But perhaps it was something he did to deal with the stress of such a dangerous job? Maybe it provided a sense of being protected?

She would have thought they would have chosen the patron saint of firefighters instead, since she was sure one existed, but it was still the only logical explanation she could think of. She didn’t believe in any of that herself, but she understood the compulsion to do something to scream against the unfairness of the universe so she tucked it back into Evan’s hand. 

They stayed for another twenty minutes, awkwardly hovering around the bedside because it seemed odd to sit down next to Evan when he was so still and unconscious. Margaret arranged the blanket around him before they left to ensure he would be warm. 

“You’re leaving already?” Maddie asked, looking over from where she was talking to Captain Nash and frowning. Howard was sitting next to them, Jee-Yun sleeping in his lap. 

“We’ll get some sleep and come back refreshed in the morning to hear the latest news,” Phillip explained, gripping Margaret’s hand tightly. “You should get Jee-Yun home as well. We can drive you home and then get a taxi from your house?”

Maddie and Howard looked at each other and then they both glanced down at Jee-Yun. 

“Can you get a taxi from here? I’d like to stay a little longer,” Maddie said, face pinched.

“Maddie, a hospital at midnight is no place for a baby,” Margaret fretted, glancing worriedly at Jee-Yun.

“Why don’t you give your parents your car – Karen is picking me up soon and we can drop you off at home,” the black woman they vaguely recognised as another one of Evan and Howard’s coworkers said. 

Margaret opened her mouth, ready to try again to convince Maddie that she should really be getting Jee-Yun home, but Maddie cut her off before she could even say a single word. “Thanks, Hen, we appreciate it. We can touch base in the morning about the car.” 

It was a clear dismissal so Phillip agreed with transparent reluctance and Margaret had to restrain the urge to huff in disapproval. They gave Maddie and Howard a hug, and gave Captain Nash and Hen a nod of acknowledgement before departing. 

They got to their hotel just after one o’clock in the morning, Los Angeles traffic apparently still terrible even this late at night, and they collapsed into bed wondering what news tomorrow would bring about their son. 

(“I thought you said you were going to be in the chapel,” Athena commented, voice hushed as she entered the dimly lit room, two large coffee cups in hand and a duffle bag slung over one shoulder and her handbag over the other. 

“I assumed his parents would want to be in here,” Bobby said dryly, accepting the cup and immediately taking a large swig of the piping hot coffee, stretching his back and blinking heavily at the same time like he hoped the combination of the movement and the caffeine would help him be more alert. 

“Well then,” Athena said, mouth pursed in disapproval, “it’s a good thing we’re here.”

She passed him the duffle bag and he stood from the uncomfortable chair, stretching his back again and taking one more long gulp of coffee before setting the cup on the nearby table. 

“I’ll be back in a minute, kid, just going to go change,” he explained to Buck in a low soothing voice, reaching over to brush his hand over his hair. He paused for a moment, as though waiting for a response, and then left when the only one that came was the beeping of machines which at least signified that he was still alive. 

“You’ve really done it this time, huh, Buckaroo,” Athena said softly, placing a hand on his cheek, careful not to disturb the tube that was helping him breathe. She stayed in that position for almost a full minute, taking comfort from the warmth of his body, before finally taking the seat next to the one Bobby had been in. 

She placed her handbag in her lap, rummaging through it until she pulled out a small hard-cover book. “May suggested that you might enjoy this one – apparently it's ‘a day’s jaunt through the lost words of the English language’,” she read off the cover. 

Once Bobby returned, she took his hand in hers and cracked open the book.

One of the first words described was uhtceare, apparently a feeling of anxiety felt right before dawn, and it certainly did feel very fitting.)

Maddie texted in the morning to let them know that the doctor would be providing an update at ten. They offered to pick her up on the way to the hospital but she responded saying that she was already on her way out the door.

“She’s torturing herself,” Margaret said, upset, as Phillip drove them to the hospital. His grip was white-knuckled on the steering wheel as he manoeuvred through this terrible traffic that was so different to anything they experienced in Hershey. 

Honestly, why did their children insist on taking such difficult paths in life? 

Choosing a sprawling metropolis like Los Angeles to live in? 

Embarking on a dangerous career like firefighting?

All of it made things more difficult for them.

They still made it to the hospital about half an hour before the doctor was due to give an update, Phillip swinging into a parking spot with a sigh of relief.

“We should pick something up,” he suggested, nodding towards the gift shop they were walking past. 

Margaret chose a beautifully arranged bouquet of wildflowers; she considered the potted orchid for a moment but figured that if Evan woke up he wouldn’t be overly interested in keeping it and that would be such a waste. 

She picked a pretty floral card that said ‘You’re in our thoughts’ to accompany the bouquet. 

Phillip joined her at the cash register with a box of Hershey’s chocolates. 

He remembered how much of a sweet tooth Evan always used to get when he was injured and he thought that perhaps this choice would remind his son of his childhood. 

Maddie and Howard were inside Evan’s room when they arrived but they ducked out to give them some privacy. Evan didn’t look any different this morning than he had last night, which they assumed was probably a good thing. 

There was already a vase of flowers sitting on the windowsill when Margaret went to place her bouquet down. It was a vibrant bunch of sunflowers, luridly yellow and brown against the stark white blinds that were drawn down over the window. 

A plain white card with a printed message on it was resting against the vase and Margaret couldn’t help but pick it up. 

Sending many prayers for your swift recovery from El Paso, Buckito. 

The card didn’t really clear up any of her confusion: who in the world did Evan know in El Paso? And how would they have gotten the news of Evan’s injury so quickly that they were able to get flowers delivered less than 24 hours after he had been admitted?

(“Eddito? Why are you calling so late?” Isabel asked, her heart in her throat as she cycled through the various terrible scenarios that might have warranted an unexpected late night phone call. 

“Buck – Buck is –” Eddie was breathing hard, like he was struggling to hold back tears, and Isabel’s heart grew cold.

“What is the matter with Buck, Eddie?”

“He’s – I need you to pray for him, Abuela,” he said, and Isabel could imagine how bright his eyes must be and the way his lips would be trembling as he tried desperately to hold onto the composure he was taught it was his responsibility as a man to maintain. 

“I don’t believe – I can’t do it, but I need you to pray for him. Please.” 

His voice cracked in the middle of the sentence but then steadied again. 

She wanted to softly chastise him, remind him of his promise to himself to be true to his emotions but she knew that if Buck was injured so badly that Eddie was asking for prayer when he hadn’t set foot in a church since he returned from Afghanistan then perhaps his composure was necessary to help him and Christopher survive these next few days. 

“Of course I will pray for him,” she said firmly. “And I will pray for you and for Christopher.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, sounding hollow, like his entire world had been ripped out from underneath him. “Thank you, Abuela.” 

She prayed for all three of them and then she said a prayer specifically for Buck, conjuring the image of that sunshine man that she had come to know quite well thanks to the way he had become such an integral part of Eddie and Christopher’s family unit. 

Before she went to sleep, she looked up florists in Los Angeles that were near Eddie’s house. She ordered the sunflowers, typed her message, and then sent Eddie a text asking him to pick them up and deliver them on her behalf since she was sure that they would get there much faster that way then if she waited for the florist to do it.)

The card didn’t provide any further answers, so Margaret placed it back and arranged her own flowers on the shelf. They didn’t look quite so vibrant now that they were next to the sunflowers, she couldn’t help but note. 

“The Horologicon,” Phillip read off the book that had been placed on the table next to Evan’s bed, looking a little bemused. “How in the world did that get here?” 

“Perhaps another one of his friends dropped by this morning?” Margaret offered, shrugging. 

“What a strange choice of gift,” he commented, placing it on the shelf alongside his box of chocolates. 

They stayed in the room for a few more minutes, until Maddie poked her head in to let them know that the doctor had arrived. 

In the short time they had spent in the room, the corridor had filled up and they were surprised to see so many faces waiting. Captain Nash had returned and he was standing with another black woman; next to them was the firefighter Hen who they had seen yesterday and she was tightly holding onto another woman’s hand; standing next Maddie and Howard was the dark haired man they had seen at Evan’s firehouse when they had visited him there. 

He, more than of the others in the room, looked wrecked, like he had barely slept, and there was a swathe of white gauze wrapped around his forearm and Margaret wondered why he would have decided to come here when he was obviously dealing with his own injury. 

Phillip felt some begrudging respect towards Captain Nash; it spoke well of his leadership that he had decided to check-in about what was happening with his subordinate despite the clear exhaustion lining his face.

The doctor explained to them that Evan was holding up as well as could be expected although he was still deep in his coma. He was being fed a veritable cocktail of various medications through his IV, and Hen listened intently to the list, interrupting to ask clarifying questions about why one had been chosen and not the other. 

Her knowledge was very impressive and Phillip wondered how she had ended up a paramedic when she was seemingly qualified enough to be a proper medical professional. 

“What are you doing to manage the risk of blood clots?” Captain Nash asked when Hen signalled that she was done asking questions. “He has a history of them – he had a pulmonary embolism three years ago –”

“Yes, we saw that in his medical history and I can assure you that we are monitoring that,” the doctor placated. “If we see any signs of it, we will start him on blood thinning medication but we would prefer not to do that without cause.” 

“Not warfarin,” Captain Nash insisted, “he didn’t react well to that; I think he mostly took Apixaban.”

“No, it was the antibiotics they gave him that he didn’t react well to,” the dark-haired firefighter corrected. “They suggested the Apixaban because it didn’t need to be monitored as much as the warfarin.” 

“Eddie’s right; he got stomach pains from Cephalexin, so don’t give him that if he needs antibiotics,” Hen said sternly, directing her words to the doctor.

“Do we have any indications of what his care needs might be when he gets released?” the woman next to Captain Nash asked. 

“I’m afraid we can’t fully answer that until Buck is awake, Mrs Nash,” the doctor answered sympathetically.

Margaret had to stop herself from showing her surprise. Why would Evan’s captain’s wife be here? And how did the doctor know her by name? 

(“I can give you an update about Evan now,” the doctor offered when he entered the room to get his chart and saw them sitting vigil next to the bed. 

“Buck,” Bobby corrected. “He prefers to be called Buck.” 

“And unless it’s something urgent or very bad –” Athena started, waiting for him to shake his head, “ – then I think the rest of our family would prefer to be here for an update.” 

“Of course,” he agreed. “I’m Doctor Attard, by the way, and I’ll be one of the main doctors in charge of your son’s care.”

“Bobby Nash, and this is my wife, Athena.”)

“I think it is fair to say that even the absolute best case scenario will involve at least 6 weeks of recovery and he is likely to experience some neurological symptoms as well. How serious those will be we can’t tell yet.” 

“Thank you,” Mrs Nash murmured, looking worried, and Margaret simply couldn’t fathom why she was reacting this way. 

“What happens if Evan remains in his coma?” 

“Dad,” Maddie hissed, glaring at him, but Phillip knew from their past experiences that it was a possibility they had to consider. 

The doctor also looked surprised at the question. “In that scenario, I will discuss next steps with his power of attorney,” he answered carefully. 

Margaret’s heart was growing heavy; Evan had no other next of kin so once again they would be forced to make difficult decisions about their child’s care. 

“I, uh, I don’t know if Buck has a living will –”

“I’m his power of attorney. I know where he keeps that kind of paperwork,” Eddie spoke up dully, and Margaret and Phillip whipped their heads around to stare at him in confusion. 

His arms were crossed and his eyes were fixed on the ground – they didn’t even know who he was, how could he hold their son’s power of attorney? 

“We don’t need to start thinking about that sort of thing yet,” Captain Nash interrupted firmly, walking over to grip Eddie’s shoulder. “Right?” he directed at the doctor, steely determination in his stare. 

“Yes, I agree,” the doctor said hastily. “We still need to see how Buck will respond to treatment.” 

“Thank you, Dr Attard,” Mrs Nash said with a tone of finality which indicated that she considered this conversation to be over. 

There was an awkward silence when the doctor left but it was soon broken by Maddie declaring that she wanted to see her brother again. Margaret and Phillip offered to wait in the hospital cafeteria for her, so they could drive her home and leave the car with her.

“Sure,” Maddie said, mouth thin like she was trying to stop herself from saying more, but Margaret forgave her for the tetchy response considering how stressed she must be.

(“Alright, what’s our Buck-schedule for today?” Hen asked matter-of-factly as soon as the Buckleys were out of earshot. “Karen and I can stay until Denny will be back from school and I could probably come back later.”

“I’m going to tell Christopher after school,” Eddie said, not looking at anyone. “I have the feeling he’ll want to come tonight.” 

“We’ll go home to get some rest for a couple hours,” Athena said, pointedly glaring at Bobby when he went to protest. “And then come back for the night shift again.” 

“I’ll do the late afternoon, while you guys are busy with school pick-up,” Chimney offered.

“I want to come with you – do you think the Lees could take Jee-Yun?” Maddie asked.

“I’m sure they won’t mind,” Chim answered, already pulling out his phone.)

“Oh, the poor thing is exhausted after yesterday,” Margaret lamented, taking Jee-Yun into her arms and bouncing her slightly.

“She was playing a little bit earlier,” Myung-Soon said. “Perhaps a nap will be enough to get her through the day.” 

“I’ll put her down,” Maddie said. “Thank you again for looking after her at the last minute.”

“Of course,” Myung-Soon responded graciously. “I am only sorry that there was not better news about your brother.”

“Well, Uncle Buck is a fighter, isn’t he,” she cooed to Jee-Yun, taking her from Margaret’s arms. “Yes he is, and he will get better, won’t he?” 

“Oh, Maddie,” Margaret said helplessly, wondering if her daughter had any idea the damage she might be doing with such words. 

Maddie ignored her. 

“Uh, anyone for a cup of tea?” Howard suggested, calling over from where he was speaking with Albert. 

“Thank you, Howard,” Phillip answered fervently. “I think tea is an excellent idea.”

“I presume Maddie will not want to have to worry about organising a dinner here tonight,” Sang said while the kettle was boiling. “I will call a restaurant and make a booking as an alternative.”

Margaret opened her mouth to thank him for the thoughtful gesture but Howard pre-empted her.

“I’m going back to the hospital,” he said, his posture stiff like he was preparing for a fight. 

“Howard, we are only here for a few more nights,” Myung-Soon reasoned, slipping her hand into Sang’s. 

“I’m sure Buck will understand that you need to spend time with your family,” Phillip mollified.

“Buck is my family,” Howard said firmly, “and I’m going to be spending this afternoon at my brother’s bedside.” 

“Your brother is standing right next to you,” Sang snapped exasperatedly. 

Albert’s eyes widened at being called out. 

Howard took in a deep breath. His expression was calm and unflinching but his tone was ice cold. “I have three brothers. One is standing here, one is already in the grave, and one is on the verge of following him. I will not be making any plans until I know he won’t.”

Sang stared at him in stunned silence. 

“We can – we can look after Jee-Yun again,” Myung-Soon offered tentatively, glancing up at her husband who was still at a loss for words.” 

“We’ve already made arrangements,” Howard responded coldly. 

“I’ll go with you to the hospital,” Albert said, perhaps trying to steer the attention away from his father. 

“That’s very kind, but you don’t have to do that,” Margaret said, touched that he was considering it but not wanting to force the young man to go through such a terrible experience unnecessarily. 

“The two of you barely know each other,” Phillip agreed, accepting the mug that Howard handed him and passing Margaret hers. His expression was still unflinchingly unforgiving.

Albert looked confused. 

“I lived with him for almost a year,” he said, and Margaret almost dropped her mug in surprise. 

It seemed to break Howard out of his hard stupor as well, because his face lightened somewhat and his voice was almost teasing as he said, “That’s an interesting way to refer to Buck letting you live in his apartment rent-free for almost a year.” 

“He did?” Phillip and Sang both asked almost simultaneously. 

“Yes; Buck has always treated me as his brother.”

“And you always acted like his annoying little brother,” Howard added mockingly. 

“I maintain that his standards of cleanliness were unattainable,” Albert complained, holding up his hands in the universal sign of defeat. 

“They – they were?” Margaret said, thoroughly discombobulated, wondering if they had somehow started talking about someone else.

“Oh, he did not like it when his kitchen was a mess,” Albert said, shaking his head. “I forgot to stack the dishwasher once and he insisted his chicken paprikash was ruined because he ran out of time to finish cooking it since he had to do that first. I still thought it tasted pretty good.” 

Chicken paprikash, Margaret mouthed at Phillip, who shrugged, looking just as dumbfounded as her. 

“He used to get so mad at me when I left my towel on the floor in the downstairs bathroom,” Howard said with a small wistful smile. “Which is ironic, considering how much of a pigsty he created in my living room when he was living with me.” 

Now that sounded more like their son. 

“Why have you lived together so often?” Myung-Soon asked, coaxing Sang to take a cup of tea. He accepted it, his eyes sharp as he followed the conversation. 

“Uh, Buck moved in with me right after he finally broke it off with Abby since he’d given up his place to move in with her,” Howard answered, his mood turning melancholic again. 

“Abby was Buck’s first love,” Albert explained. It was directed to his parents, but Margaret and Phillip also needed it because they had never heard of this person.

Why hadn’t they heard of this woman that their son had apparently lived with and was considered his first love?

What had she been like, she wondered, her curiosity burning because Howard’s use of the word ‘finally’ seemed to indicate that their relationship had been troubled by something. 

“And then Buck let me, Hen, and Eddie quarantine at his apartment during the early months of the pandemic,” Howard continued, letting out a forceful chuckle. “Four people living in a one-bedroom loft apartment sure made for some interesting times, let me tell you.” 

“I’m sure it did,” Phillip murmured. It explained why Hen and Eddie were also at the hospital, he supposed. They must be quite close friends for Evan to open his home that way.

Although it still seemed strange to him to choose his friend from work to be his power of attorney. 

“That was very kind of him. Towards both of you,” Sang said stiffly. 

“Buck is a very kind man,” Albert said simply, staring into his tea.

Margaret had called Buck a miracle, she had called him mischievous, she had considered him to be dramatically willful and stubborn. 

‘Kind’ had never really been an adjective on her radar but she couldn’t deny that it fit the anecdotes that the Han brothers had shared. 

(“What is the one word you would use to describe me?” Buck read off the card, throwing it into the middle of the table alongside the others. “Alright, bring it on.” He wiggled his hands as though daring them to throw their worst his way. 

They were seated around Hen and Karen’s coffee table which was full of cards and various bottles of alcohol. All of them, bar Bobby, were at least tipsy although at least half were well on their way to being properly drunk since it was a rare occasion where none of them had to worry about childcare; May was at her father’s for the weekend and Harry, Christopher and Denny were all at a summer camp.

“Oversharer,” Chim declared, raising his tequila shot triumphantly and downing it.

“Mm, is that one word or two?” Buck questioned, tilting his head so much that he almost lost balance and fell into Eddie’s lap. 

“Golden retriever,” Hen interrupted before Chimney could start arguing his case.

“That’s definitely two words,” Buck objected. 

“But it's true,” Hen said, wagging her finger at him.

“Helpful,” Eddie offered, sniggering at Hen. 

“Aw, that’s so nice,” Buck said, throwing his arm around Eddie. 

“Energetic” was Karen’s and Maddie added “determined.” 

“Kind,” Athena said decisively, taking a delicate sip of her wine. “You’re unfailingly kind, Buckaroo.” 

“I’ll agree with that one,” Bobby said, smiling at his wife.

“That’s a lot of words,” Buck said seriously, sniffling as his eyes scrunched up.)

When Margaret and Phillip returned to the hospital the next day, the shelf that ran alongside the wall of Evan’s room was so much fuller.

They had expected another bouquet of flowers since Myung-Soon had told them she and Sang were going to have one sent. “It's the least we can do considering the kindness he has shown to Albert and Howard,” she explained sympathetically. 

The flowers she had chosen were ostentatiously large and stunningly beautiful, dwarfing all the other arrangements but somehow looking out of place in its perfection among all the other items on the shelf. 

Margaret almost felt queasy when she realised the card Myung-Soon had included was exactly the same one she had chosen. 

There was another new set of flowers as well, a bunch of different vibrantly-coloured tulips arranged in a bright blue vase. These had a proper card placed in front of them, a rather amusing one which depicted a grumpy-looking dog wearing a cone with the caption “at least you don’t have to wear a cone.” 

She was aware that it was probably an invasion of privacy, but she had received so much new knowledge about her son these last few days that she couldn’t help but allow her curiosity to win out. 

I have no doubt you’re fighting like hell, Buckaroo, so keep it up! 

Can’t wait to see you back on your feet and looking forward to many a gossip session while you’re recovering :) 

Thinking of you.

Lots of love, 

Carla

Was Carla another serious girlfriend that they knew nothing about? 

(“I’ve had that card waiting in the wings for ages, Buckaroo, but I gotta say I was expecting you to be looking at me with those woebegone eyes when I gave it to you,” Carla said conversationally as she artfully arranged the tulips.

She picked up a sheaf of papers and started laying out drawings on the foot of his bed. “Now, Christopher was very clear about which ones I have to make sure are in your line of sight but Eddie also said I had to make sure this one was prominent.”

She held up the cartoonish drawing of the pink and yellow smiling love heart.

“Not really one I would’ve picked from him, to be honest,” she commented thoughtfully.)

“I don’t know how I feel about that,” Phillip commented. Margaret tore her gaze away from the card to see that he had also come over to inspect the additions to the shelf. 

He was looking at a massive card, one of those that was used when a large group all wanted to add their own message. He showed the inside of it to her: emblazoned across the middle was what could only be described as a scorecard. It read Buck: 4 Death 0 and then in smaller text underneath it said ‘You better make that a 5 and not allow death to get a notch on the scoreboard, Buckley!! Love, the 118 crew’. 

Surrounding that there were dozens of messages in much smaller handwriting, presumably one from each of his coworkers. She didn’t read any of them, but she could still get the gist of what lay behind each message: warmth and encouragement. 

“He’s almost died four times? Before this?” Margaret wondered aloud, upset at the idea that she had no idea what each of those occasions were.

“Apparently,” Phillip said, frowning down at the card. He guessed one of those times must be the occasion that Maddie called them but he hadn’t gotten the impression that it was life-or-death serious then. 

He would have thought Maddie would have made it more obvious if it was.

(“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Bobby said dubiously, staring at the card he’d just been handed by his crew. 

He had taken himself off rotation for a few days so he could spend that time in the hospital but had dropped by during changeover to give his crew an update on Buck’s status. 

“It’s a reminder of all the times he’s won and encouragement to keep fighting,” Jenson insisted, getting nods of agreement from the members of A and B-shift who had gathered to hear the news.

“Alright,” Bobby sighed, accepting the card and making a mental note to display it in a way that didn’t make the scoreline obvious because he didn’t particularly want to be faced with the reminder of the emergency tracheotomy, the fire truck bombing, the pulmonary embolism, and the tsunami every time he was sitting in that room with only the sound of machines keeping Buck alive for company.)

Margaret moved on to looking at the rest of the shelf, too unsettled at her total dearth of knowledge to keep staring at that score line.

There was a large red box next to the tulips and she opened it to take a peek at the contents. It was filled with various kinds of loose leaf tea, each one holding a description of the positive effect it would have on mood and general wellbeing. The tag attached to the box only had a short message scrawled on it: 

To support your recovery journey. 

Anne and John Lee

More people she had never heard of. 

(“Here, I picked this up yesterday,” Anne said, nodding towards the box sitting on the table as she took Jee-Yun from Maddie’s arms. “For when your brother wakes up, to assist with his recovery.”

“If he needs to stay with you, we can also look after Jee-Yun at your home so that he has company while you are at work as well,” John added, coming over to give Maddie a tight, warm hug.

“Thank you so much,” Maddie said, eyes a little teary.)

Then there was a cookbook with a post-it note attached to it which said To give you something to do when you’re bored and recovering at home. I’ll come over to taste test :) May and a book about space and a book about general facts, neither of which had anything to indicate who had given them. 

(“He’s going to go nuts when he’s at home and Bobby and Eddie are being all overprotective,” May insisted, adding the cookbook to the shelf before taking the seat next to Athena.

“What do you mean ‘overprotective’?” Bobby asked, affronted. He was sitting gingerly on the bed next to Buck, gripping his hand, since both chairs were occupied.

Athena and May both looked at him with judging disbelief.)

(“Christopher has a project about space due in a couple of weeks,” Eddie said quietly, staring at the book in his lap pensively. “He, um, he refuses to start it until you can help him with it.”

He paused, waiting for an answer, but it only came in the form of steady beeping and he had to gulp down a painful swallow.

“You should probably wake up soon, so you have enough time to do the kinda research I know you like to do before helping him,” Eddie continued softly, staring at the minute movements of Buck’s chest as it rose and fell.

Another pause.

“Please wake up soon.”)

(“I thought about buying you one of those puzzle books but Howie said they weren’t sure if you would have cognitive problems and I remember feeling too exhausted to do that sort of thing after my accident,” Albert said, shoving his hands into his pockets awkwardly after placing the book down. “So I thought maybe this one would be better. You can share some facts with Christopher while you are recovering.”)

“I think this one is from Maddie’s coworkers,” Phillip murmured, looking at the basket filled with a mish-mash of self-care items from bath bombs to candles to candy and sweets to even a few tiny succulents. 

There was another large card displayed next to it, and the message in the middle did indeed say it was from your friends at Metro dispatch which did seem odd because why would Maddie’s coworkers send a gift like this? 

Perhaps it was just a couple good friends of Maddie’s who took the initiative to organise it? 

But no, that card had almost as many small personalised messages surrounding the main text as the one from Buck’s own coworkers had. 

(“Do we, uh, usually give gifts to injured firefighters?” Yuki asked blankly, staring at the basket in the middle of the table with a hastily handwritten sign next to it which said ‘add gifts and messages before 2pm today please!!’ 

She had only been working at dispatch for a few months so she wasn’t sure if it was standard operating procedure. It seemed a bit odd and also a surefire way to lose a lot of her salary considering how many firefighters there were in this city and how high the likelihood of them getting injured was.

“No, definitely not,” Linda assured her with a small chuckle. She was arranging a cellophane-wrapped bundle of fudgy looking brownies in the basket. “But, uh, this was Maddie’s brother so quite a few of us on this shift know him quite well.”

“He’s basically one of us,” Sue agreed, uncapping the pen so she could add her own message to the card.)

Margaret decided to stop looking at the items, feeling too sick to her stomach to continue, except looking around the hospital room made her realise that the additions were not all confined to the shelf after all. 

Someone had stuck up a bunch of drawings on the wall; they all looked like they were from children. In fact, she was fairly certain she recognised at least two of them from Jee-Yun’s little play table at home that the girl had shown her during that dinner before everything had gone so wrong. 

The only thing the drawings had in common were how colourful they were; they depicted everything from indecipherable scribbles to cartoons to dinosaurs to the ocean to zoo animals to sports games. 

Margaret decided to focus her attention on her son instead. 

“Oh, those socks are so garish,” she said, fixated on them because it was something she could have control of. They were bright orange with white anti-slip notches which were useless given he wouldn’t be walking yet and they barely fit over his ankles so they couldn’t possibly be keeping him warm. 

She went to tug them off, deciding she would just cover his feet up with the extra blanket tucked on one of the chairs instead, when she was interrupted by an unexpected voice. 

“You can’t do that.” 

They both startled because it was a child’s voice, and what would a child be doing here?

It was a young boy, maybe eleven or twelve years old, with curly hair and glasses. He was using crutches and Margaret’s first thought was that he had gotten lost on the way to his own room.

“Do you need help?” Phillip asked as he stepped forward, coming to the same conclusion as her. 

“No,” he answered, looking at Phillip strangely. He returned his attention to Margaret, staring pointedly where she still had one hand on that damn orange sock. “You can’t take that off.” 

“I’m going to put a blanket over his feet instead,” Margaret said, feeling ridiculous that she was explaining herself to a strange child who had inexplicably ended up in her son’s room. 

“Buck always sleeps in socks,” he said and it almost felt like the room froze except he didn’t seem to be affected by it. “You can’t take them off; Buck always says that he’ll freeze if he doesn’t have his socks in bed.” 

He sounded like he was near tears but neither of them had a clue how to deal with that because it was a child that was talking about their son in a way that no stranger should feel comfortable to. 

“Christopher?” 

It was Eddie, the colleague that Evan had apparently chosen to be his power of attorney. 

“Chris, I told you to wait while I spoke with the nurses,” he said, coming into the room and resting a hand on the child’s head. 

“They were going to take Buck’s socks off, Dad,” Christopher insisted, sounding teary. “You know that he always wears them to bed and he always says it’s too cold. He shouldn’t be cold; that won’t help him wake up.” 

Eddie glanced over at them, still frozen in position, not really sure what exactly it was they were witnessing because the only explanation that seemed even remotely possible was simply entirely unfathomable. 

“Well, this place doesn’t get as cold as our house, huh,” he tried to say lightly but Christopher’s sad, teary face didn’t budge. He sighed, pinching his nose. “Look, how about we change him into one of the pairs we picked up from his apartment.” 

He slipped his duffle bag off his shoulder and unzipped it. It was full of clothes and a couple of books and a laptop. 

Looking at it, they realised that they wouldn’t have been able to do that. 

They had Evan’s address, but they didn’t have his key like Eddie apparently did, and they had no idea how Evan organised his home like Eddie apparently did given he was able to pack his bag, and they had very little knowledge about those tiny little preferences (like wearing socks to bed) that made something like a hospital stay infinitely easier to manage like Eddie and this child named Christopher apparently did. 

There was a whole life ensconced in that duffle bag and this was the very first glimpse they had gotten of it even though their son was apparently enmeshed right in the middle of it. 

“Looks like we’ve got a full house,” Mrs Nash commented as she walked in, Captain Nash following right beside her, and Margaret almost wanted to scream and Phillip had to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from asking why are you always here?!

“How are you doing, Christopher?” Captain Nash asked warmly, ruffling his hair. 

Christopher shrugged. “We forgot to water Buck’s plants and now Dad thinks he might have killed them.”

“Hey,” Eddie objected. “I’m pretty sure a few missed days of watering wouldn’t kill them… right?” 

“I dropped by Buck’s apartment on my way home yesterday and watered them after I emptied his fridge, so I think we’re fine,” Captain Nash said, letting out a small chuckle and – why did he have a key? 

It could perhaps be explained away by the nature of firefighting and the likelihood of injury which meant there needed to be someone who could quickly pick things up in situations exactly like this one but surely he shouldn’t feel quite so comfortable waltzing into Buck’s apartment like that? 

“I’m sure you were happy to see that they were able to take him off the ventilator,” Mrs Nash said to the room at large, including Phillip and Margaret in the conversation properly for the first time. 

They had both been so focused on the actual hospital room that they hadn’t even noticed. 

“Dr Attard seemed optimistic that he’ll wake up today,” Captain Nash explained to them. There were still lines of stress around his eyes but he looked to be in a better mood than they’d seen him these last few days. “David also took a look at his brain scans and said they were looking surprisingly good.” 

“Don’t know how I feel about the ‘surprising’,” Mrs Nash murmured quietly enough so that Christopher wouldn’t hear her. 

“Oh, is this Dr Hale, the neurologist? Maddie did say the hospital managed to arrange a consult with him,” Phillip recalled. 

“The one in Miami,” Margaret added, seizing on the opportunity to finally have something to contribute. 

“Does Buck’s work insurance cover that sort of thing?” Phillip asked, frowning. “I don’t want him to have a bill, I can sort it out if necessary –”

“He’s married to my ex-husband,” Mrs Nash said wryly, smiling a little at their reaction to that statement. “He was the one who insisted on doing the consult since he said Bobby was doing a terrible job sending pictures of his chart.” 

“I maintain that his instructions weren’t clear,” he said good-naturedly, going over to the bed to help Eddie change Buck’s socks over to the fluffy green dinosaur-patterned pair that he’d pulled out of the duffle bag.

Margaret had to take a step back to make enough space. 

Dr Attard was right. 

Buck did wake up later that day. 

Almost everyone was at the hospital when it happened, but it was only Margaret, Phillip, Maddie, Eddie and Christopher who were in the room itself. 

They had been planning to go downstairs and pick up a coffee and a sandwich but Christopher had set himself up next to Buck’s bed and was talking about how they needed to plan out their next trip to the zoo properly because apparently two new exhibits had opened since the last time they’d been and for some reason they were both drawn to keep listening.

He stopped in the middle of a spiel about giraffes, looking intently at Buck before gasping, “Dad, he moved!” 

Eddie was over by the bed in seconds, before Margaret had even registered the words.

“Buck, can you hear me? Talk to me, come on.” 

He was intense in his plea, laser focused on Buck; the room may as well have only consisted of the three of them for all he cared. Maddie did manage to slot herself in there, however, standing at the foot of Buck’s bed and looking at her brother just as intently.

There wasn’t any space around the bed but they could still see their son and they could see his eyes fluttering open.

And they could hear the first and only word that came out his mouth: “Ch-Christopher?” 

Maddie laughed and Eddie closed his eyes for a moment, a profound relief overtaking his face.

“He’s right here, Buck,” he said, opening them again and reaching over to pick up his son and place him carefully on the bed. 

“Christopher,” Buck breathed, his hand reaching up clumsily and dropping back onto the bed before he could make contact.

“You came back,” Christopher said, his voice small, resting his hand on Buck’s cheek.

“Always, bud. For you, always,” Buck said hoarsely. His hand reached its mark this time, and he buried it into Christopher’s hair.   

“Here,” Maddie said quickly, grabbing a cup of water and holding the straw out for Buck to drink from, beaming at him. 

“Looks like our patient has finally decided to wake up.” The nurse was smiling as she entered the room, taking in the scene in front of her. 

“About time,” Eddie said, eyes warmly soft in a way that made him look completely different to how Margaret had ever seen him before. 

“I do need to get him checked over first if you wouldn’t mind waiting outside,” she directed. Getting to the bed, she ducked down slightly to speak to Christopher. “Hey, sweetie, do you mind if I just borrow Dad for a few minutes? I promise to give him back and then you can be in charge of making sure he follows my instructions.”

Margaret and Phillip waited for someone to make a refuting comment. 

They expected that either Eddie would say that “I’m the dad, actually,” or that Evan would say something like “I’m the friend, Eddie is the dad” along the lines of his “I’m the donor, Connor is the father” comment regarding his sperm donation. 

Nobody said a word. 

(Evan had said ‘Connor is the father’ but a part of Phillip now couldn’t help but wonder whether Eddie’s phone also held the same picture that his son had so proudly shown him.

But surely their son would have told them if they were going to have another grandchild?)

Eddie helped Christopher down from the bed. “We’ll be right outside,” he said to Buck, squeezing his shoulder.

Buck raised his other hand to give a lazy wave but he frowned, looking at the medallion that was curled around his hand that Margaret had noticed that very first night.

“Your St Christopher?” he asked quietly.

“To help you come back,” Eddie answered simply, holding onto Christopher’s shoulder meaningfully and – 

Oh. 

Christopher. 

It hadn’t been about religion after all. 

(Perhaps he wouldn’t have told them that they had another grandchild, Phillip thought, staring at the child who was right in between this strange silent communication occurring between Buck and Eddie.)

“I’ll call Bobby and Athena,” Eddie said once they were outside, leading Christopher a few steps away.

“I’ll call Howie,” Maddie said, pulling out her phone.

Margaret and Phillip were left in the middle of the room, since they didn’t have anyone to call. 

“I’ve called the doctor and he’ll be by later this afternoon to make a proper assessment,” the nurse explained to the room that had filled up significantly in the fifteen minutes she’d been inside with Buck. “It’s likely he’ll have bouts of confusion for the next few days, especially after waking up, so that isn’t anything to worry about. Dr Attard will be able to tell you more later today, but I can say that he seems to be doing remarkably well given everything.”

“Thank God,” Howard muttered, Albert nodding next to him. 

It was true, about the bouts of confusion: Evan was drifting in and out of sleep throughout the day and most times when he woke up he had a moment of panic and worry where he didn’t know where he was or why. 

Generally it was Maddie or Eddie who helped him during those times.

But there was one point, in the very late afternoon, when it somehow ended up only being the two of them in the room when it happened. 

Maddie and Howard said they had to pick up Jee-Yun from the Lees – Anne and John Lee, Margaret’s mind supplied, happy that she could tick off two of the unfamiliar names. Hen and Karen said they also had to pick up their child and Eddie decided to take Christopher home to prepare for a sleepover at their house – Christopher extracted a promise from Buck to help him with a school project and Eddie quietly promised to return later that night. Captain Nash and his wife were outside because her ex-husband and his neurologist husband had asked to video-call and they didn’t want to disturb Buck’s sleep.

Buck woke up, agitated, looking around wildly, and Margaret stepped up to the bed, Phillip right behind her. 

“You’re in the hospital, Buck, you’re safe,” she said.

“We’re here, Buck, you’re safe,” he added. 

“Wh-what’s going on? Mom? Dad? What happened?” Buck said loudly, still looking agitated, still looking around in pure confusion. 

“Woah, is everything alright?” Captain Nash bolted into the room, his wife right behind him. 

“Bobby? Athena? What’s going on?” 

“It’s alright, baby, you’ve had quite the injury but you’re safe, I promise,” she said, brushing her hand over his hair.

“We’re here, kid, you’re okay,” he added, one hand gripping Buck’s and the other one on his shoulder. 

They were the almost exact same words but, as they watched the way Evan – Buck’s  – anxiety dissipated and he relaxed back into the bed, Margaret and Philip finally realised that it wasn't the words themselves that had weight as much as it was the history of past actions that lay behind them.