Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The past six months had been hell for Buck Nash in a way that crept in quietly and stayed. After the ladder truck explosion and the initial surgeries, his world narrowed down to pain levels, medication schedules, and waiting rooms. His body felt foreign, unreliable. Sleep came in short stretches, often broken by flashes of memory that dropped him right back under twisted metal before he could stop them.

The Shield ceremony gave him something solid to hold onto. It became a fixed point in time, something he could aim for. He focused on it obsessively, marking the days with schedules and lists and the way Eddie lit up whenever he talked about it. Once the ceremony ended, the momentum vanished. There were no shifts to prepare for, no clear milestones. Just recovery, stretching endlessly in front of him. The quiet that followed felt heavier than the hospital noise ever had.

He was still healing, still limited, still stuck in a body that didn’t cooperate the way it used to, but without that goal on the horizon, the days stretched out in front of him, long and empty. He filled them however he could. Physical therapy appointments. Follow-up scans. Short walks that left him sweaty and frustrated. Long afternoons alone when Eddie was at work and the house felt too big.

He went back into the hospital for the revision surgeries the surgeon suggested, earlier than anyone wanted him to. Eddie argued. Maddie argued. Bobby argued. Shannon argued. Everyone told him to wait, to give his body more time.

Buck didn’t wait. The surgeon might’ve recommended the procedures, but Buck was the one who signed the paperwork and booked the dates. He needed to feel like he was doing something. Anything. Even if it hurt.

It didn’t help that after the shield ceremony, after Helena Diaz made it painfully clear she didn’t approve of Buck and Eddie being together, Eddie started acting just a little differently.

Not distant. Not cold. Just careful.

His hands lingered a little less. His touches were more deliberate, like he was checking for permission every time. He chose his words more thoughtfully, sometimes stopping halfway through a sentence and starting over. It felt like Eddie was holding himself back, trying not to say or do the wrong thing. Buck noticed. Of course he did. He told himself not to read into it. He’d always known how much Eddie’s family mattered to him. Even if Eddie wasn’t close to Helena, her rejection wasn’t something he could just brush off. Shannon had said as much one afternoon, when Eddie was at work and Buck was laid up after his second surgery, frustration simmering just under the surface.

Twelve weeks after the ladder truck, Buck finally got his cast off.

He’d been counting down the days. Talking about it like it was freedom. Like the second the cast came off, everything would snap back into place and he’d just stand up and move on.

The moment the doctor touched his ankle, Buck nearly lost it.

The pain was immediate and overwhelming, sharp and deep enough to steal the air from his lungs. His vision swam. His stomach turned. It dragged him straight back to the street, to the sound of metal groaning and the feeling of being crushed into the pavement.

Eddie’s hand closed around his instantly, steady and grounding, his thumb rubbing small circles into Buck’s skin while Buck tried not to fall apart in the middle of the exam room.

That night, Eddie held him.And the night after that. And the night after that. 

For a full week, Buck fought sleep like it was the enemy, his body jerking awake every time he drifted too close, pain and memory blurring together. Eddie never complained. He stayed close, arm around Buck’s waist, hand warm against his back, murmuring reassurances into the dark when Buck’s breathing went shallow.

Physiotherapy was worse than Buck expected. Eddie and Shannon managed to get Buck in with Christopher’s physical therapist, mostly because Buck already knew him and trusted him. They scheduled Buck and Chris back to back so one of them could always be there for both, the routine familiar in a way that helped more than Buck wanted to admit. It was still brutal.

Movements that looked simple sent pain flaring through his leg. Muscles shook doing exercises that should’ve been easy. Buck clenched his jaw through it, sweat soaking through his shirt, refusing to quit even when his body begged him to.

Bobby started hovering more, too. 

Newly married or not, he showed up constantly. Sometimes with food. Sometimes just to sit at the table and talk. He brought Xander over a few times, Harry and May on others, Athena any time she wasn’t on shift. They played board games, argued over rules, talked about the station. Buck already heard most of it from Eddie and from Hen and Chimney’s calls and visits, but talking shop with his dad grounded him in a way nothing else did. It reminded him he still belonged.

A month and a half after the cast came off, four and a half months after the explosion, the physiotherapist finally signed Buck off to resume regular activities. With conditions. He wanted Buck to wait a bit longer before recertification. He wanted Buck fully comfortable on his leg first.

Buck nodded. Then he went straight to the gym.

Months of limited movement had taken their toll. He’d lost weight. Lost muscle. His body felt unfamiliar, weaker in ways that scared him more than he wanted to admit. So he pushed. Hard. Harder than he probably should’ve.

Some days were manageable. Other days were rough.

Some mornings his foot was stiff and tight, a deep throbbing settling in before he even stood up. Other days the pain crept higher, traveling up his entire left leg. Sometimes it felt crushing and heavy. Other times it came in sharp, shooting bursts that made his skin overly sensitive to the lightest touch.

On those days, Eddie stepped in without being asked.

He sat on the floor in front of Buck, hands warm and practiced, working through Buck’s joints and muscles with careful pressure. Techniques he’d learned helping Chris, adapted instinctively. Buck lay back on the couch or bed, eyes closed, breathing slowly while Eddie worked the pain down to something he could live with.

It wasn’t a fix. But it helped. And for now, that was enough to keep Buck moving forward, one careful step at a time.

Five months after the accident, Buck went against what Bobby, Eddie, Maddie, and the rest of their family wanted and decided he was done sitting still. He needed to get back out there. Every time Eddie was on shift without him, every time Buck knew he couldn’t have Eddie’s back in the field, the ache settled deep in his chest. He loved Eddie, and he loved Eddie coming home to him after long shifts, but nothing compared to working side by side, trusting each other with their lives, and walking out together at the end of the day.

He pushed himself harder at the gym with every visit. He told himself the pain was part of it, that this was what getting back meant. He tried not to complain when Eddie came home at night, even when his leg throbbed and his foot felt tight and uncooperative. Eddie always noticed anyway. His hands would find Buck’s ankle or calf under the guise of affection, working carefully through the stiffness like it was nothing more than habit. Buck never called him out on it. He liked the closeness too much, and the relief it brought was real.

While Buck worked toward recertification, Maddie finally started the process of selling the house in Boston. Shannon volunteered to oversee the sale so Maddie wouldn’t have to step foot back in that place. Maddie accepted without hesitation.

Xander officially returned to school after months of being homeschooled and slipped back into his loud, energetic self with surprising ease. Maddie kept him in weekly therapy anyway. He needed a space that was just his, where he could talk about the fear and confusion of the past year. Maddie did too, even if she never said it out loud.

Bobby and Athena decided not to take a honeymoon. Bobby didn’t want to be away from his kids for long, and neither did Athena. Too much had happened. Buck’s accident. Maddie’s trauma. May’s attempt. Xander’s silence. Being present mattered more than any trip ever could.

They also held off on having a reception. At first it was because Buck was still recovering, but even after the cast came off, they didn’t rush it. They didn’t need a party to prove anything. They had each other, and that was enough.

After Bobby and Athena’s wedding, Eddie took the ring out of his sock drawer and decided it was too soon. His divorce from Shannon went through quickly and without conflict. There was no fight over custody and no need for child support. They agreed that Christopher would mostly live with Eddie and Buck, since the house was bigger and more accessible, but Shannon was there almost every day anyway. Their family didn’t look traditional, but it worked.

After Helena’s comments at the shield ceremony and after Bobby and Athena’s wedding, Eddie found himself pulling back from Buck just a little. Not because he loved him less. If anything, it was because he loved him too much. The ring sat hidden in the drawer, a quiet promise waiting for the right moment. Eddie knew that if he didn’t hold himself back, he’d propose before Buck was ready, before their lives had settled into something steadier.

Every time Eddie looked into Buck’s eyes, every time Buck smiled at him without reservation, Eddie had to remind himself to wait.

Hen and Karen began talking seriously about having another child. Karen’s new job at CalTech allowed her to work remotely much of the time, giving her flexibility she’d never had before. They explored their options together, discussing adoption and surrogacy. Karen found herself wanting to try to get pregnant. Not because Denny was any less hers, but because she wanted the experience of carrying a child herself.

Chimney and Maddie started officially dating. Their relationship felt careful and intentional. Maddie moved slowly, and Chimney never pushed. After Doug, and with Xander to consider, caution wasn’t just understandable. It was necessary.

Xander, for his part, adored Chimney. He’d known him long before Maddie started dating him, but once Chimney became a regular presence at movie nights and dinners, Xander attached himself without hesitation.

It was complicated for Maddie. Watching her son grow close to her boyfriend in a way he’d never been able to with his own father brought up feelings she wasn’t ready to name. Doug may have loved Xander in his own way, but fear and mistrust had shaped that relationship. The difference was impossible to ignore, and Maddie knew what it said about the life she was building now.

Buck moved through the fire carefully, every step deliberate despite the chaos around him. The heat pressed in from all sides, heavy and suffocating, even through full turnout gear and PPE. Smoke curled low across the floor, stinging his eyes behind the mask as the crackle of flames echoed above him. The training structure was alive with sound. Fire roaring. Wood groaning. Alarms screaming somewhere in the distance.

His boot struck one of the babydoll heads littering the floor and sent it skittering across the concrete. He barely registered it, automatically nudging another out of his path as he advanced. His focus stayed locked forward, senses sharp, every movement controlled. His leg ached, a dull pressure he’d learned to ignore, though each step still carried a reminder of what it had taken to get here.

He spotted the small grate set into the floor and dropped to one knee beside it, gloved hands gripping the metal. Heat rolled up from below as he leaned over and looked through. There. His target lay face down on the floor beneath him, motionless, half obscured by smoke.

“Martinez!” Buck yelled, his voice cutting through the noise as he glanced back over his shoulder. Fire burned bright overhead, light flickering across the walls as he turned fully toward the firefighter behind him. “I got something.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Buck turned back and hauled the grate open, metal screeching as it shifted. He swung his legs through and dropped down into the space below, hitting the floor with a solid thud. Pain shot up his leg, sharp and immediate, stealing his breath for half a second. He clenched his jaw and pushed it down, refusing to let it slow him.

He moved straight to the figure on the floor, crouching beside her. He checked positioning quickly, rolled her just enough to get a better grip, then reached for his radio.

“I got her! Headed down.”

He slung the dummy over his shoulder, settling the weight with practiced efficiency, then turned and moved fast. Every step down the stairs jarred his leg, but adrenaline carried him forward. He kept his pace controlled, careful not to stumble, one hand steadying the load while the other guided him along the railing.

The exit came into view through thinning smoke, a rectangle of light that felt almost unreal after the darkness inside. Buck pushed through the door, blinking hard as sunlight hit his eyes. Cool air rushed over him, sharp and clean compared to the heat he’d just left behind.

He moved a safe distance away before lowering the dummy to the ground, his knees hitting the pavement as he followed, chest heaving. For a moment, he stayed there, bent forward, catching his breath. His hands shook slightly as he reached up and pulled off his mask, then his helmet, letting both drop beside him. Sweat dripped down his temples, his hair plastered to his forehead.

Firefighters gathered nearby, watching him closely. Buck lifted his head just as Thomas stepped forward.

“Babydoll factory, new record,” Thomas said. “Most guys take the stairs.” He held out his hand. “Welcome back, Nash.”

Relief hit Buck all at once, heavy and overwhelming. He took Thomas’ hand, fingers tightening as he was pulled to his feet, a broad grin breaking across his face. Applause erupted around him, cheers rising from the group as firefighters closed in, clapping him on the shoulder, calling out congratulations.

Buck laughed, breathless and bright, and for the first time since the accident, he let himself really feel it. The pride. The relief. The certainty that he was back where he belonged.

He’d earned this.

Buck got home riding the quiet high that only came after a good burn and a clean pass. His body ached in that familiar, earned way, muscles buzzing, leg sore but steady. The house felt wrong the second he stepped inside.

Too quiet.

He closed the door behind him and dropped his bag by the couch, pausing to listen. No TV noise. No Christopher’s voice drifting from the hallway. No Eddie in the kitchen pretending not to hover.

“Eds?” Buck called out. “Chris?”

Nothing.

He frowned, glancing down the hall, then toward the kitchen. Eddie’s keys weren’t on the hook. Chris’ backpack wasn’t where it usually lived. Buck rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, confused but not immediately worried. He figured he’d missed a text somewhere in the haze of adrenaline and focus from the academy.

The shower helped. Hot water beat down on his shoulders, steam filling the bathroom as he let himself slow down for the first time all day. He stayed under longer than he meant to, letting the heat loosen tight muscles and ease the lingering stiffness in his leg. By the time he shut the water off, his skin was pink and his hair was dripping, towel slung low around his hips as he walked back into the bedroom.

He was halfway through pulling on clean sweats when the front door opened and closed, followed by familiar footsteps and a small, hurried voice.

“Uncle Buck?”

A second later, Xander sprinted down the hall, skidding a little as he made a sharp turn toward the bathroom.

“Bathroom!” Xander announced, already halfway inside. The door shut with a decisive click.

Buck laughed softly and turned just as Maddie appeared in the doorway, her purse still over her shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, smiling. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah,” Maddie said easily. “All good. You need to get dressed.”

Buck blinked. “Hi to you too.”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She stepped into the room and nudged his academy hoodie off the chair so she could sit. “Dad wants everyone over for dinner. Family dinner.”

“Tonight?” Buck asked. “I thought Dad had stuff going on.”

“He rearranged things,” Maddie said. “You know how he is.”

Buck nodded, then hesitated. “Do you know where Eddie and Chris are? I thought they’d be back by now.”

Maddie didn’t miss a beat. “Probably at Abuela’s.”

“Oh,” Buck said, tension leaving his shoulders. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

Maddie tilted her head slightly. “Does it?”

Buck shrugged, already turning back to his dresser. “Sure. Eddie loses track of time over there.”

She watched him for a moment longer than necessary, clearly choosing her words, then stood. “Get dressed,” she said again. “Something nice please. Dad said he wants everyone looking decent.”

Buck snorted. “Define decent.”

Xander burst out of the bathroom then, nearly colliding with Buck as he raced past him toward the living room.

“Sorry!” Xander called, already gone.

Buck shook his head, laughing. “That kid has unlimited energy.”

Maddie smiled, softer now. “He’s excited.”

“About dinner?” Buck asked, pulling on a clean shirt.

“About seeing everyone,” Maddie said. After a beat, she added, “About you.”

Buck paused, just briefly, then smiled to himself. “Yeah. Me too.”

He grabbed his shoes and followed Maddie toward the door, that faint thread of confusion still there, but buried under routine and familiarity. Family dinner. Maddie and Xander. Eddie and Chris wherever they were.

Everything felt normal enough. Even if Maddie was being a little weird. He figured he’d ask Eddie about it later.

The door to the Grant-Nash house opened as Hen, Karen and Denny rushed inside and down the steps, their voices and footsteps immediately filling the space. Denny didn’t hesitate for even a second before peeling away from the group and sprinting straight through the living room, his excitement carrying him toward the backyard.

“We’re not late are we?” Hen asked, looking at Michael as she slowed near the bottom of the stairs.

He chuckled, holding his arms open in greeting. “The guest of honor hasn’t arrived yet.”

“I’d hate to miss an opportunity to cry.” Karen said, pulling Michael into a hug.

He laughed, squeezing her a little tighter as Hen chuckled beside her wife, the familiar dynamic settling easily between them.

“Are the IVF shots taking their toll?” Athena asked, walking towards the three.

Karen smiled bright, as she pulled Athena into a hug. “I feel like a human pin cushion!” Athena laughed. “A very weepy pin cushion.”

All four of them laughed, the sound warm and unforced, filling the house with the easy comfort of people who knew each other well.

Hen turned to Athena. “So, first official party of the Grant-Nash household.” She teased, hugging Athena. “I didn’t think it was gonna really happen.”

“Or that any of us would be invited.” Michael said sarcastically as he walked away, shaking his head.

Athena’s face dropped as she stuttered. “See, here you go again!” She, Hen and Karen started walking in the same direction as him. “I told you don’t take it personally.”

“Then don’t take it personally that I ain’t get you guys no gift.” Chimney said as he passed them on his way to the backyard.

Michael laughed, watching Chimney go, as Chimney checked his phone.

“And they’re almost here.”

Across the room, Eddie grabbed the tray of salad from Bobby, adjusting his grip carefully before starting to walk back inside. His movements were quick, a little restless, nerves humming just beneath the surface.

“And we are almost ready.”

Bobby nodded in confirmation, eyes scanning the room, mentally ticking off what still needed to be done.

May walked outside, and made a beeline to Bobby. “Sorry Bobby, no sign of any other platters.”

“I saw your mom put some stuff in the shed.” Bobby explained, looking at his step-daughter. “Maybe check in there?”

Before May could answer, the doorbell rang, sharp and sudden.

Hen appeared at the back door, waving everyone towards her. “Come on. He’s here!” She whisper yelled.

The house shifted instantly. Conversations cut off. People moved quickly, quietly, slipping into place as everyone from outside made their way in, while Athena went to answer the door.

“I’m so glad you guys were able to come!” Athena said loudly, her voice carrying with practiced ease.

“Thank you for having us over, ‘Thena.” Buck said, smiling at his step-mother as he stepped inside, still completely unaware.

“I know it’s short notice,” Athena said, keeping Buck’s attention on her, guiding him forward without giving anything away.

As Buck approached the bottom of the stairs, everyone, in unison, yelled “Surprise!” as Buck about jumped out of his skin.

Maddie laughed and squeezed her son’s hand as he giggled at his Uncle’s reaction, eyes bright with delight.

Buck turned to his sister.

“You knew?”

Maddie gave him a look and smirked. “Yeah!”

Buck smiled, and moved down the last couple of steps, taking Athena’s hands in his own and laughed, the shock slowly melting into something warm and overwhelming.

He turned, seeing Eddie rushing towards him with a huge smile on his face. Eddie pulled him into a hug, before pulling back and giving his boyfriend a quick kiss, the kind that carried relief, pride, and love all at once.

Bobby interrupted by pulling his son into a hug too, and Buck nestled his head in the crook of his dad’s neck, eyes closing briefly as he let himself feel it all.

For a moment, everything else faded, leaving only the weight of arms around him and the certainty that he wasn’t standing alone anymore.

As the party drifted out onto the back porch, the noise softened into something warm and steady. Music played low from a speaker tucked near the door, mixing with laughter and the clink of bottles and glasses. People leaned against the railing, perched on steps, or clustered around the tables, plates balanced on their knees as the afternoon light stretched long and golden.

Buck stood with his arms wrapped around Eddie from behind, his chin resting comfortably on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Eddie leaned back into him without thinking, one hand coming up to rest over Buck’s forearm, thumb rubbing slow, absent circles like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I cannot believe you managed to keep this a secret,” Buck said, his voice soft, almost reverent.

Eddie chuckled low, turning his head slightly to the side so he could catch Buck’s eye. “I can keep a secret, Carino.”

Buck playfully rolled his eyes, tightening his arms just a little. “Sure you can.”

The quiet rhythm between them broke at the sound of crutches tapping against the concrete. Both of them looked up at the same time.

Chris was making his careful way toward them, focused and determined, his crutches moving in a practiced rhythm. Shannon followed a few steps behind, arms crossed, her posture relaxed but watchful, pride written all over her face as she let him move at his own pace.

Buck immediately stepped away from Eddie and crouched down so he was level with Chris, his attention fully on him.

Chris held out a folded piece of cardstock, gripping it carefully.

Buck took it gently. On the front was a bright, uneven drawing. Two stick figures standing side by side, one taller than the other, the taller wearing turnouts and the smaller wearing glasses, a surfboard propped next to them, blue waves filling the background. At the top, Buck’s name was written in bold, colorful letters, with “BFF” scrawled underneath.

“Wow! Thanks buddy!” Buck said, his face lighting up. “Wow! This is great!” He pointed at the card, eyes wide with genuine delight.

“It’s you and me,” Chris said, his voice soft but proud.

Buck’s chest tightened. He smiled at him, then leaned in closer. “Oh, and what’s that?” he asked, pointing at the surfboard.

Shannon stepped forward, tilting her head as she looked at the drawing. “It’s a surfboard, right?”

“Oh, ho, ho, ho!” Buck laughed out playfully, throwing his head back a little.

“You know he’s obsessed,” Shannon added, amusement clear in her voice.

Buck looked back at Chris, taking in the grin stretching across his face, the way his shoulders lifted just a bit with pride. He opened the card carefully.

“Dear Buck, you are an awesome firefighter. Love Christopher.”

Buck swallowed. He closed the card slowly and looked up at Eddie and then back at Chris, his eyes shining. “This is very sweet, Christopher. Thank you.”

He opened his arms without a word, letting Chris step forward. Buck wrapped him in a careful but tight hug, one hand rubbing a comforting circle between his shoulder blades. Chris leaned into it fully, resting his forehead against Buck’s chest for a moment before pulling back.

As soon as Chris stepped away, Shannon moved in. She squeezed Buck’s arm first, then pulled him into a hug of her own, holding on longer than necessary.

“I’m so proud of you, Smudge!” She said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve always been a stubborn son of a bitch. I knew a little 60,000lbs ladder truck would keep you down for long.”

Buck snorted and leaned back just enough to look at her. “Are you calling Margaret a bitch?” he teased, eyebrow quirking.

“Like it’d be the first time,” Shannon laughed out.

Buck let out a full cackle, loud and unrestrained. “You know, I can honestly say, she’s my least favorite person my dad’s ever married.”

“Mine too,” Shannon and Eddie said in unison.

Eddie reached out then, resting a hand on Buck’s back, grounding him. Buck leaned into the touch easily, still smiling, still laughing, surrounded by the people who had seen him through the worst of it and were here now to celebrate him anyway.

“Okay Chris, I think May and Xander are eating some of Bobby’s cupcakes.” Shannon said, putting her hands on Chris’ shoulders. “We better go before they steal them all.”

Chris’s eyes widened in immediate alarm. Cupcakes were serious business. He tightened his grip on his crutches and nodded once, determination written all over his face.

Shannon laughed softly and steered him toward the long table set up near the edge of the porch, keeping a steady hand at his back without hovering. Eddie watched them go with a fond smile before glancing back at Buck.

“I’m gonna go check on Maddie,” Eddie said quietly, brushing his thumb along Buck’s wrist before letting go. “You good?”

Buck nodded easily. “Yeah. Go. I’ll survive five minutes without you.”

Eddie leaned in and kissed his cheek anyway, just because he could, then slipped away into the crowd.

Buck lingered for a second, rocking slightly on his heels as he took in the scene around him. Music, laughter, kids darting between adults, Bobby holding court near the grill. It all felt loud and alive and warm in a way that still surprised him sometimes.

That was how he ended up beside Hen and Karen, who were perched at the edge of a picnic table, drinks in hand, shoulders angled toward each other like they always were.

“So,” Hen was saying, her eyes bright, “we’re officially moving forward with surrogacy.”

Karen nodded, smiling so hard it looked like it hurt. “Paperwork, meetings, way too many conversations with doctors. It’s a lot, but it feels right.”

Buck leaned against the railing beside them, listening, genuinely happy for them. “That’s huge,” he said. “I’m really happy for you guys.”

Hen grinned and reached into her pocket. “Okay, so. I have to show you something.”

Karen shot her a look. “Hen.”

“What? He’s family,” Hen said, already pulling out her phone. She swiped once, then turned the screen toward Buck. “This is the donor.”

Buck leaned in, studying the photo far more seriously than necessary. It was a clean-cut headshot, smiling, clearly taken years ago.

“Ooh, so that’s your future baby daddy?” Buck said, looking at the photo. He fought to keep a straight face as he shrugged, looking at his friends. “Looks a little young.”

Hen snorted. “N-No, this photo is like 20 years old.” She laughed, shaking her head. “For privacy reasons, they can’t show you what he looks like now.”

“Yeah, and he’s not a baby daddy.” Karen said, pushing Buck’s shoulder, harder than necessary. “He’s a sperm donor!”

Buck laughed, rubbing his shoulder dramatically as he looked back at Hen, who was smirking like she’d absolutely enjoyed watching him get scolded. Then he turned back to Karen, expression softening.

“Well, he is a cute sperm donor. And hey.” Hen and Karen looked up at him. “He’s gonna make for a real cute kid.”

Hen let out a quiet laugh, her shoulders shaking, but Karen just froze. Her eyes went glossy almost instantly, her mouth pressing into a thin line as she tried and failed to hold it together.

“You are so sweet!” She said, moving quickly to pull Buck into a hug.

Buck barely had time to react before she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight.

“Oh, oh God!” Buck muttered in surprise, his hands hovering awkwardly for half a second before settling gently against her back.

Hen winced and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” even though she was smiling too.

Buck let himself be hugged anyway, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing through it, letting the emotion wash over him.

After carefully extracting himself from Karen’s emotional death grip, Buck took a steadying breath and smoothed down the front of his shirt like he hadn’t just been ambushed by feelings. Hen shot him an amused look over Karen’s shoulder. Buck pointed at her silently as if to say you’re on thin ice, then slipped away before Karen could go in for round two.

He wove through clusters of guests until he spotted Eddie, Maddie, and Chimney near the drink table. Maddie and Chimney were mid-laugh, hands raised. They high-fived.

Buck slowed as he approached, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“Yo, I cannot believe you managed to keep this a secret.” Buck said as he got closer. He looked at Chimney. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Chimney chuckled, lifting his drink like he’d just been caught but wasn’t at all sorry about it. Maddie tried to look innocent and failed spectacularly.

“Wait,” Buck said, looking over Maddie’s shoulder. “There’s cake?”

Sure enough, near the far end of the table sat not one but two decorated cakes, half-hidden behind trays of food.

Julie Rosen from B-Shift picked up a plate with a slice of cake and handed it to Buck.

He accepted it slowly, eyes still darting between the three of them like he suspected a trap.

“Uh,” Chimney started, looking from Maddie to Eddie. “Two cakes.”

Buck blinked. “Two?”

“Yeah,” Maddie said quickly. “We weren’t sure how today was gonna go.”

Buck’s eyebrows shot up.

“So we had another one on standby in case you crashed and burned that said ‘Better Buck next time’.”

Buck stared at her.

Maddie, completely unbothered, took a piece of cake on a fork and fed it to Chimney, who leaned forward without hesitation and took the bite.

“Aw,” Maddie said, satisfied.

Buck looked between them and grimaced. “Wow, you guys just gonna get married already?”

“Oh, don’t be like your dad and forget to invite us.” Michael said, walking past with a grin as he headed toward the cooler.

Maddie rolled her eyes, then looked at Buck. “You’re one to talk.”

Eddie, who had been standing just slightly behind Buck, went red immediately and ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What- What d’you mean?”

Maddie laughed, delighted that she’d landed a hit. “You guys have been together for a year and a half. You’re living together.”

Chimney nodded in agreement. “If anyone was gonna get married next, it’d be you two.”

Buck felt heat rush up his neck. He shook his head quickly, waving a hand as if physically batting the idea away. “Nah, we’re not there yet, right babe?” He said turning to Eddie, who was very deliberately not making eye contact.

Eddie’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

“Right,” Eddie said quickly, before looking away. His eyes flicked across the porch until they landed on Shannon, May, and the boys gathered around the snack table. “Oh, I-I’m gonna go see if Shan needs any help with Chris.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He was already moving.

“Ed-” Buck started, but Eddie sped off in the opposite direction.

Buck stood there for a second, cake plate still in his hand, watching Eddie retreat. His shoulders dropped.

He turned slowly and frowned at his sister. “You broke my boyfriend!”

“You broke your boyfriend.” Maddie argued immediately, folding her arms.

Buck scowled, pointing his fork at her like it was evidence. “I’m going to talk to Dad.”

“Really? You’re 28 and you’re gonna tattle on me to Dad?”

Buck started walking backwards, expression deadly serious despite the frosting on his lip. “You know? I just might!”

Chimney laughed loudly as Maddie shook her head, and Buck turned, nearly bumping into Bobby as he made his dramatic exit.

Bobby turned just in time to catch Buck backing into him, hands coming up instinctively to steady his shoulders.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?”

Buck laughed, still half twisted around to look back toward Maddie. “Just escaping your daughter. She broke my boyfriend.”

Bobby rolled his eyes, though his grip didn’t loosen. “You’re an adult now, Smudge. You don’t need to tattle when your sister upsets you.”

“Dad!” Buck whined, playfully childish-like, the word stretching out in protest.

Bobby shook his head, but the smile stayed on his face. He clapped Buck lightly on the shoulder, then kept his hand there a second longer than necessary. “They’re sending the paperwork in the morning and you will officially be back. How’s that feel?”

Buck straightened a little at that, trying to look casual and failing. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Oh, I’m just glad it’s over. You know -” He took a deep breath, rubbing his chest. “-I hated not being with you guys.”

The admission came out softer than he probably meant it to.

“Yeah, we missed you too.” Bobby admitted, voice steady but warm. “It’ll be nice to have the whole team back together.”

Buck smiled, but there was something tight behind it. His voice was a little hoarse as he spoke. “Thanks Dad. And I don’t just mean for the party and the cakes. Um…” Buck blushed, glancing around the porch like he needed to make sure no one else was listening too closely. “Thank you for being there, you know, for the surgeries and the rehabs. I, uh- I know I wasn’t always the easiest person to be around.”

Bobby huffed out a breath through his nose. “Oh my God.” He said sarcastically, causing Buck to laugh. “No, you weren’t that bad. And that’s my job.”

Buck’s laughter came easier this time, bright and unguarded, but it caught wrong halfway through and broke into a cough.

“You should-” Cough. “-tell that to my…” He coughed for a few seconds, bending slightly at the waist as he tried to catch his breath. “... my mother. Sorry.”

Bobby’s expression shifted, the humor draining just a fraction. “Hey, Margaret’s never been the most maternal, you know that.”

Buck nodded faintly, but he was still coughing. He brought his hand up to his mouth, turning his face slightly away from the crowd, shoulders tensing as the cough deepened.

The music and laughter from the porch continued for a second longer, but a few nearby conversations began to falter.

“You okay?” Bobby asked, brow furrowed in concern, his hand hovering near Buck’s arm now instead of resting casually there.

“Yeah. I-” Buck tried to answer, but the words dissolved into another violent cough. His chest seized, his body folding forward as he tried to pull in air. He became painfully aware that people were looking. The music cut off somewhere behind him.

He stepped backwards onto the grass, needing space, needing air. The cough grew harsher, wetter.

He pulled his hand away from his mouth just enough to see.

Red.

For a split second, his brain refused to process it. Blood dripped through his fingers, dark against his skin, falling in slow, steady drops onto the grass below.

“Buck?” Bobby said, his voice even, but the fear lay just millimeters below the surface.

Buck looked up at him, eyes wide, confused and scared all at once. More blood spilled from his mouth when he tried to breathe in.

Around them, chairs scraped. Someone gasped. Eddie’s voice called from somewhere behind.

Buck swayed. Then the world tilted.

His knees gave out and he fell to the ground, unconscious, the party dissolving into chaos around him.

Buck sat propped up in the hospital bed, the thin blanket tucked tight over his legs. The cannula in his nose itched every time he shifted his face, the steady hiss of oxygen a quiet reminder of how close things had come. His throat still burned faintly, chest heavy in a way that had nothing to do with the machines around him.

Maddie stood on one side of the bed, arms folded but fingers digging into her own elbows. Chimney hovered just behind her shoulder, hands braced on the rail like he needed to anchor himself. Eddie was by the door, back against the wall, arms crossed tight across his chest. His jaw was set so hard it looked like it hurt.

The doctor stood at the foot of the bed, chart in hand, glasses slipping slightly down his nose as he scanned the page.

“You got lucky.” The doctor said, “most people who suffer a pulmonary embolism don’t do it surrounded by trained medical professionals.”

Buck let out a slow breath through his nose and looked up at Maddie and Chim with a playful, yet grateful, smirk on his face. His lips were pale, but the expression was familiar, almost automatic. He gave them a little shrug, like, see, told you I’m fine.

The doctor glanced up at Maddie and Chimney, offering a kind smile. “They saved your life.”

Maddie’s throat bobbed. She didn’t look at Buck. She just nodded once.

“So, what caused the blood clot?” Maddie asked, voice tight but steady.

“Clots. Plural.” The doctor confirmed. He opened Buck’s chart fully, flipping to a scan. “There’s the one that hit his lungs, and then there’s two more in his leg. As to the cause? It’s unclear.”

Eddie pushed off the wall slightly, arms still crossed but no longer leaning. “He just got a clean bill of health last week.”

“Yeah, this feels like it came out of nowhere.” Chimney added, frowning at the chart like he could will a different answer out of it.

Buck turned his face slightly away, eyes tracking the ceiling tiles. His jaw flexed. He knew that look in the doctor’s eyes. He knew the questions coming.

“Did it?” The doctor questioned. “No pain or tenderness in the leg? Skin discoloration, swelling?”

There was a beat of silence.

“I thought I just pulled a muscle or something.” Buck said with a shrug.

Maddie and Eddie exchanged a look that could have cracked glass.

“Okay, I-I’ve been training for my LAFD recertification test.” Buck added quickly, like that explained everything.

“Well, it’s not surprising.” The doctor shrugged, closing the notes. “Training hard can lead to dehydration, which can increase the risk of clots.”

Maddie sucked in a breath and shook her head slowly. The disappointment on her face hit harder than if she’d yelled. Buck kept his gaze fixed somewhere near the edge of the mattress. He didn’t need to look at Eddie to know exactly what expression he’d find.

“Okay, um, well, great. Look, I’m not dead.” Buck said quickly, looking at Maddie, then back to the doctor. “You found the clots. When can I get out of here?”

The words were too fast. Too bright.

“We’ll move you to a room, keep you on the anticoagulants. Tomorrow, we’ll run some more tests.” The doctor confirmed. “And then… we’ll see.”

He gave Buck a look that said, you’re not invincible, no matter how much you act like you are, then headed for the door.

“Thanks Doc.” Chimney said automatically, because someone had to.

The room went quiet.

Chimney looked between Maddie and Eddie, both of whom were staring daggers at Buck like they were trying to decide who got to go first.

“You know what?” Chimney said lightly. “I’m gonna go tell everyone else you’re okay. Let them know that you’re staying awhile, alright?”

He leaned down, kissed Maddie on the cheek, squeezed Buck’s shoulder gently, and slipped out before the storm broke.

The second the door shut, Maddie moved. She rounded the bed, fists pulled up near her chest like she was physically holding herself back.

“When did your leg start bothering you?” Maddie asked.

“Like, a day or two ago.” Buck admitted, like it was nothing.

Eddie let out a long, controlled breath that did not sound calm.

“You guys, I-I was not ignoring this, okay?” Buck stuttered, pushing himself up a little straighter. “I-I didn’t know what it was. I thought I had a leg cramp or something.”

“Yeah, well you need to be more careful.” Maddie snapped. Her voice cracked at the edges. “Because, if this had happened when you were alone, you could’ve died!”

“No, but I-I didn’t, okay?” Buck argued, frustration bleeding into panic. “I just passed out-”

“Yeah, just passed out, after vomiting up blood.” Eddie snarked.

Buck blinked. “What?” He frowned, genuinely confused. “I don’t…I don’t remember that. I vomited up blood?” Maddie nodded. “At Dad and Athena’s house?”

“Yeah.”

Buck’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

Maddie stared at him. “Oh yeah.”

He looked horrified, but not for the reason they wanted him to be.

Eddie finally pushed fully away from the wall and stepped closer to the bed. His movements were tight, contained.

“This leg thing isn’t new, Buck.” Eddie pointed out. “I’ve been massaging your leg for weeks. Months even.”

“Yeah, because some days, it’s a little stiff.” Buck argued. His hands fisted in the blanket. “But this is different. It’s a different kind of pain, I guess. It just felt like a pulled muscle or something.”

“And why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Eddie snapped. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was sharp. “We’re supposed to tell each other these things, Buck.”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal!” Buck bit back, voice hoarse and raw.

“Or you just didn’t want to admit that you’re pushing yourself too hard too soon.” Maddie shot back.

“Mads, Eds, it’s not like that-”

Eddie shook his head, running a hand down his face like he was trying to wipe the anger away. “I’m gonna go call Shannon and let Chris and Xander know you’re okay. You scared the crap outta them!”

He didn’t look at Buck again. He just turned and walked out.

Maddie stood there a second longer, staring at her little brother in the hospital bed, oxygen in his nose, IV in his arm.

Her eyes were glassy.

“You scared all of us,” she said quietly. Then she followed Eddie out, leaving Buck alone with the steady hum of machines and the weight of what he’d almost done to all of them.

Bobby and Athena walked down the steps of the Grant-Nash house slowly, the drive back from the hospital heavy with everything neither of them had said out loud.

When they stepped inside, the house still carried the echo of the party. The decorations were untouched. Balloons hovered near the ceiling. Streamers hung neatly from the stair railing. Paper plates with half-eaten cake sat abandoned on side tables. Someone had left a stack of napkins near the drink station. The music was paused mid-song, frozen in time.

It felt wrong that everything still looked celebratory.

Athena glanced down at her phone as she slipped off her heels near the entry table. “Oh, Michael brought the kids to his place.” She said, sitting her purse on the couch. “He’s gonna keep them tonight.”

Bobby nodded, scanning the room like he expected Buck to still be standing somewhere near the porch doors. “Did he say how they’re doing?” Bobby asked, trying to not sound concerned.

“Well, May’s been quiet and Harry keeps asking if we’re sure his brother doesn’t have Ebola.” She chuckled softly.

Bobby huffed out a breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. He looked around at the remnants of what had been a joyful afternoon. “Well, so much for our first party as a married couple.”

“Well, maybe they’ll all stop complaining that we didn’t have a wedding reception.”

Bobby let out a long exhale, running a hand over the back of his neck. The adrenaline that had carried him through the ambulance ride and hospital hallway was gone now, leaving him drained. “Where should we start?”

“Right here,” Athena said, directing Bobby to sit on the couch.

He hesitated for a second, like sitting down meant accepting that he couldn’t fix anything tonight. But he lowered himself beside her anyway.

Bobby stared at his hands. They were steady now. That almost made it worse. “Buck wanted to apologise for the blood. He’s worried he ruined something.”

Athena’s expression softened. “Oh, I raised two kids in this house.” She smiled faintly, settling beside her husband and reaching for his hand. “A little ammonia? Everything will be fine. Just glad he’s okay.”

Bobby looked down at his hands again. The word okay didn’t sit right.

“He is okay, right?”

Athena didn’t rush to answer. She just squeezed his fingers once before speaking.

“He’s been so laser-focused on coming back to work. I thought he was ready.” Bobby admitted. His voice was quieter now. “But now, I have to wonder.”

“You worried that he’s pushing himself too hard?”

Bobby nodded, eyes fixed somewhere past the coffee table. “Yeah. Guess the apple doesn’t fall too far, huh?”

Athena tilted her head slightly. “How so?”

“It’s what I did. I thought I could handle it. Lied to everybody. Ignored the pain.” Bobby said sadly. He rubbed his thumb across his wedding ring without thinking. “I don't want my son making the same mistakes I did.”

Athena watched him carefully. She could see the guilt creeping in, the self-blame that had never really left him.

“The job should mean a lot, but it can’t mean everything.” Bobby said, his voice steady but tight. “He’s got too much going for him to not learn that. He’s got Eddie and Chris to think about now. And Maddie and Xander too.”

“Yeah, but I understand the impulse.” Athena said knowingly. She leaned back slightly, exhaling. “Whenever I think of Harry and May about to take a stumble, my instinct is to throw myself in front of them, cushion the fall.”

Bobby turned toward her.

She gave him a small, sad smile. “He might be your kid. But he’s also not you.”

Bobby’s eyes glossed over, just a little.

“Maybe he’s making the same mistakes you did. Maybe he’s not. I mean, really, there’s only one way to find out for sure.”

“Just wait and see?”

Athena lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “You gotta let them grow up sometime.”

Bobby sat with that. The house was quiet around them. Too quiet.

After a moment, he let out a breath and rubbed both hands over his face. “I should call the chief, huh?” He asked. “Let him know to hold off on Buck’s paperwork for a few days.”

“If you think it’s the right thing to do.”

“I don’t know what the right thing is, Athena.” Bobby admitted. His voice cracked slightly at the edges. “I miss having my kid at my side out there, but I can’t watch him risking himself before he’s ready.”

Athena reached up and smoothed her hand over his shoulder. “Speak to the Chief. Tell him to send the paperwork over, but that Buck’s gonna need a few extra days. Buy you and Buck a little time.”

Bobby nodded slowly. Time. That felt manageable. He couldn’t fix everything tonight. But he could slow it down.

He leaned back into the couch, finally letting himself feel how tired he was.

Athena shifted closer without saying anything, her shoulder resting against his.

The ward room was quieter than the chaos of the ER had been. One bed, pale walls, a single chair pulled close. Buck lay propped up against a stack of pillows, an IV line taped neatly to his arm.

He looked tired. Not just physically. Drained.

The door opened softly and Eddie stepped back in. He had that look on his face that meant he had too many thoughts and no good place to put them.

Buck gave him a small smile. “Hey.”

Eddie shut the door behind him and leaned against it for a second before pushing off and walking further into the room. He didn’t sit right away. Just stood there, arms folded tight across his chest.

“You okay?” Buck asked carefully.

Eddie let out a breath through his nose. “You almost died. Again.”

Buck shifted slightly in the bed. “Yeah, well. That wasn’t exactly the plan.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I know.” Buck’s smile faded. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie finally moved, dragging the chair closer and sitting down. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely. His jaw was tight.

“When did it really start?” he asked.

Buck looked at the blanket instead of at him. “I told you. A couple days ago.”

“And before that?”

Buck hesitated. “It was just stiff. Like it’s been stiff for months. You know that.”

Eddie stared at him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t try to downplay it.”

Buck swallowed. “I wasn’t hiding anything.”

“You were.” Eddie’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was sharp. “You didn’t tell me it was worse. You didn’t tell me it was different.”

“I didn’t know it was different,” Buck shot back, frustration creeping in. “I thought I overdid it at the gym. I’ve been pushing harder, yeah, but that’s not new.”

“That’s the problem.” Eddie sat back in the chair, running a hand over his face. “You’ve been pushing since the second they let you out of that cast.”

Buck’s shoulders slumped. “I needed to.”

“No,” Eddie said firmly. “You wanted to.”

Buck looked up at that. There was no anger in Eddie’s face now. Just something tighter. Something worried.

“We can’t lie to each other,” Eddie said quietly. “Not about this stuff.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

“You were leaving things out. That’s the same thing.”

Buck opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He knew Eddie wasn’t wrong.

Eddie leaned forward again, resting his forearms on the edge of the bed. “We’ve been through too much together since we met and got together to lie to each other now. I can’t have you deciding on your own what I get to worry about.”

Buck’s eyes flicked up to his.

“I love you,” Eddie continued, softer now. “I’d do anything for you. You know that. But we only work when we’re on the same side.”

Buck’s throat tightened.

“I am on your side,” he said, voice rough.

“Then let me in.”

There was a long pause.

Buck nodded once. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I should’ve told you it was different. I just… I didn’t want to make it a thing.”

“It was a thing,” Eddie replied, not unkindly. “It’s always a thing when it comes to your health.”

Buck let out a weak huff. “You sound like Maddie.”

“Good. Maybe between the two of us it’ll stick.”

That earned the smallest smile from Buck.

They sat in the quiet for a moment. The beeping of the monitor felt louder now.

Eddie checked his watch and sighed. “I should go.”

Buck’s head snapped up. “Already?”

“I’ve got shift in the morning. If I don’t sleep, Chim’s gonna make me miserable about it all day.”

Buck nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. Okay.”

Eddie stood, stepping closer to the bed. He hesitated just a second before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to Buck’s lips. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t distracted. It lingered.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against Buck’s.

“I’m worried about you,” Eddie admitted quietly. “You push yourself like you’ve got something to prove.”

Buck’s hands came up slowly, resting lightly at Eddie’s waist. “I just don’t want to lose what I fought to get back.”

“You won’t,” Eddie said, just as quietly. “Not if you let people help you.”

Buck nodded against him.

Eddie kissed him again, softer this time. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Buck replied.

Eddie stayed there a second longer, their foreheads still touching, breathing the same air.

Then he straightened up, squeezed Buck’s hand once, and headed for the door.

“I’ll call you first thing,” he said.

Buck watched him leave, the room feeling a little bigger once the door clicked shut.

The truck rolled to a stop at the curb outside the large Mediterranean house turned nursing home, brakes hissing softly. Martinez killed the engine while Bobby was already pushing open the passenger door.

He stepped down onto the pavement, adjusting his helmet as Hen came around the front of the truck to join him. Eddie and Chimney climbed out from the back, scanning the building automatically.

“Stay outside,” Bobby instructed Eddie and Chimney calmly. “We’ll see what we’re dealing with first.”

Eddie gave a short nod. Chimney lifted a brow but didn’t argue. Bobby and Hen headed up the walkway together, boots thudding against the concrete.

They hadn’t made it halfway to the entrance when the front door opened abruptly.

A woman in her forties stood there, dark auburn hair falling below her shoulders in loose waves that looked like she’d been tugging at it. Relief flooded her face at the sight of turnout gear.

“Thank God, I wasn't sure that they were gonna send anyone.”

“You the one who called?” Bobby asked as she started leading them through the home.

The interior smelled faintly of antiseptic and lemon cleaner. A television murmured somewhere down the hall. A few residents looked up as the firefighters passed, curiosity brightening tired eyes.

“It's my dad, Jack.” She said with a nod. “We came to have lunch with him. He was acting weird. And then, Dave, that's my brother, he noticed something on his stomach.” She said quieter, motioning across her stomach. “We tried to get a closer look, but he kicked us out and locked the door.”

There was frustration in her voice, but underneath it was worry. Real worry.

Bobby and Hen exchanged a quick look as she hurried ahead of them down the hallway.

“Finally!” Dave stood outside a closed bedroom door, arms thrown wide in exasperation. “Our father is having a medical emergency behind a locked door that no one in this damn place can seem to open.”

He shot a pointed glare at two security guards who looked defensive and exhausted.

Bobby stepped forward and tested the handle. It turned easily, but the door didn’t budge. He leaned his shoulder into it gently, feeling the resistance.

“The lock's not the problem.” He stated simply. “There's something on the other side keeping it from opening.”

Hen stepped closer.

“Your sister said that you saw something on your father's stomach.”

Dave shifted awkwardly.

“Uh, these marks. Like wounds or maybe sores?” Dave said, sounding unsure. “It was hard to tell.”

Bobby knocked firmly.

“Jack, this is LAFD. Will you please let us in?”

There was a scrape from inside. The small barred hatch in the door slid open. An old man’s face appeared, sharp eyes glaring through the bars.

“Not until those ungrateful vultures stop circling!”

“Dad.” The daughter chastised, embarrassed.

“Hey.” Bobby said, placing his hands flat against the door in a steadying gesture.

The hatch slammed shut again.

“Ungrateful? Who does he think pays for this place?” Dave argued bitterly.

“You sold my house to pay for it!” Jack called from inside the room.

The daughter’s shoulders slumped slightly at that.

Bobby thumbed his radio and lowered his voice. “Eddie, Chim, we're gonna have to storm the Bastille here.”

“He's acting like a child.”

“I am not.”

“Storming the Bastille, Cap.” Chimney’s voice came back, amused. “Copy.”

“He's old, Dave. And sad and lonely, living in this place, knowing he's dying.” The daughter argued.

Hen’s brows rose.

“Oh, wait, your father's ill?”

“I didn't mean ‘dying’ dying. I just mean - ”

“You wish, you ungrateful brats.” Jack yelled angrily.

“He is 82.”

The hatch swung open again.

“And I'm as healthy as a horse.” Jack said, pushing his face to the window.

“And stubborn as a mule.” Dave shot back, stepping closer.

“Hey, I'm your father.” Jack chastised. “You're not too old for the back of my hand.”

“Okay, well, then, come on out here and try it, old man.” Dave challenged.

“My money's on you.” Chimney said, as he climbed through the window with surprising agility.

Hen pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.

Jack turned, exasperated.

“Oh, for Pete's sake.”

Eddie climbed in right after Chimney, landing lightly. He moved efficiently, helping Chimney guide Jack toward the bed. Eddie’s expression stayed neutral, though his eyes flicked briefly toward the man’s abdomen with clinical focus.

He crossed the room and shoved the heavy dresser away from the door, clearing it so Bobby and Hen could push their way inside.

Chimney lifted Jack’s shirt carefully.

“Mm-mm, no. That's not a rash.” Hen said from a few feet back, already frowning.

“Maybe MRSA.” Chim said, glancing up at Jack. “Have you been to a hospital recently?”

“Ooh, that's the flesh-eating thing, right?” Dave asked. “Oh, I'm gonna wash my hands.”

“It's not a MRSA.” Jack said, irritated.

“Oh, yeah?” Hen questioned. “You sound pretty sure about that. When did the symptoms start?”

“A few weeks back.” Jack said with a shrug. “You know, I figured it would go away on its own, like crabs.”

Chimney slowly turned to Hen. Hen stared back at him. Eddie’s face twisted in open disgust as the shirt rose a little higher.

Chimney tilted his head slightly toward Eddie.

“Diaz,” He said in a sickly sweet voice.

“Chimney,” Eddie countered, his face stony. “The only man’s junk I’m getting that close to is Buck’s.”

Bobby made a small choking sound beside him. All three turned. Bobby was staring at Eddie with a look that could only be described as unimpressed.

Eddie’s ears went red instantly. “Sorry, Bobby.”

Chimney sighed heavily.

“Fine, I'll look.”

“Knock yourself out.”

Chimney peeled back Jack’s underwear.

The smell hit first. Then the sight.

Jack’s son and daughter gagged audibly and turned away.

“Oh, what is that?” Dave asked, horrified.

“I don't know.” Chimney said, leaning closer despite himself. “Maybe donovanosis.”

“Mm, well, there's something you don't see every day.” Hen said, brows raised.

Behind her, Eddie’s face scrunched up again. He swallowed hard and focused on breathing through his mouth.

“Thank you.” Jack said, smiling flirtatiously at Hen.

“No, sir, it looks like you have a flesh-eating STD. Don't thank me.” Hen replied dryly.

Chimney finished his assessment and helped Jack into his dressing gown. Eddie and Chimney each took an arm to steady him upright. Eddie kept his grip professional, though he looked like he wanted to bleach his hands already.

“What kind of an 82-year-old gets an STD?” Dave asked.

Eddie glanced at him.

“Actually happens more than you think. Chlamydia, syphilis, on the rise in people over 65.”

He allowed himself a faint smirk at Dave’s discomfort.

“When I went off to college, you gave me a can of mace and a box of condoms.” Jack’s daughter stated. “Told me to always protect myself. So what the hell, Dad?”

“What do you mean you got condoms?” Dave asked. “I just got the mace.”

“I didn't think anybody'd have you.” Jack said smugly.

“Oh, well, someone's clearly been having you.” Dave shot back. “Who is she?”

“She is none of your damn business.”

“Okay, sir, you're not required to tell us, but you do have to tell them at the hospital because she has to start a course of antibiotics immediately.” Bobby stated firmly.

Dave turned dramatically toward the common area.

“Um, everyone? My father, Jack here, has a flesh-eating STD.” His voice carried across the room. “So whomever he's been sleeping with should come to the hospital with us for immediate treatment.”

A woman toward the back slowly stood.

“Okay, ma'am, please come with us.” Bobby said gently.

Then several more women stood.

Then a man.

“Oh.” Hen said with a head tilt.

Chimney and Eddie both let out short, helpless laughs.

“What if you slept with one of the women that he slept with?” The man asked.

“You should probably get that checked out too.” Eddie said, trying not to grin.

More men stood up.

Dave’s face went pale.

“What kind of a place is this?”

Jack’s daughter turned on him.

“I can't even with you! You're supposed to be a role model.”

“He is to some people.” Chimney said, smirking at Hen and Eddie.

Jack laughed outright.

Eddie shook his head. “Kids today.”

They wheeled Jack out toward the ambulance, the hallway buzzing behind them.

Once outside, the sunlight felt almost cleansing after the scene inside. Hen and Bobby exchanged a look, both trying not to laugh too openly now that they were clear of the residents.

Bobby’s phone began ringing as they reached the truck.

He frowned at the screen. He hit answer.

“Chief? What’s going on?”

The automatic doors of the hospital slid open with a soft mechanical hum as Bobby stepped inside, the smell of antiseptic and floor polish greeting him immediately. It was just after three. He’d handed the shift over to Chimney with a few quiet instructions and a look that said he’d explain later. Now, standing in the hallway outside Buck’s room, he paused for half a second. He could see his son through the glass panel in the door, sprawled back against the raised hospital bed, phone inches from his face. His expression was pure boredom. Restless energy trapped in a body that wasn’t allowed to do what it wanted.

Bobby knocked lightly on the doorframe. Buck’s head snapped up.

“Dad?” Buck said, his eyebrows shooting up. “What’re you doing here? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?”

The questions came rapid-fire, instinctive. Buck was already scanning Bobby’s face for bad news.

Bobby forced a small smile. “Eddie’s fine, Buck. We just need to talk.”

Buck blinked once, then immediately swung into motion.

“Well gimme a minute and we can go for a walk.” He said quickly, already pushing the sheets down and swinging his legs carefully over the edge of the bed.

Bobby watched the way he moved. There was a slight hitch when his left foot hit the floor, but Buck smoothed it over, pulling on his slippers like it was nothing. He stood, steadying himself for a second before heading toward the door with that familiar determined stride.

“You sure it’s okay to be walking around like this?” Bobby asked quietly, studying him.

“Yeah,” Buck said easily. “They want me up and moving. Y’know? It’s better for the blood flow in my legs.” He glanced back at Bobby with a quick grin. “Seriously, if I’m not being poked or they’re not testing me, they’re making me walk.”

He tried to make it sound light. Casual. Like this was just another inconvenience.

They stepped into the hallway together. Nurses moved past with carts, monitors beeped faintly from nearby rooms. Bobby walked just slightly closer than usual, like he could catch Buck if he faltered.

“So, all that testing, do they have any theories yet as to what caused the clots?”

“Not yet.” Buck grimaced. “But the meds are working. The doc said they’re gonna send me home tonight.”

That flicker of hope was there in his voice. Home meant normal. Home meant Eddie. Meant control.

Buck slowed near a window that looked into another room, glanced in absently, then looked back at Bobby.

“Oh, hey, um, do I need the hospital to sign some kind of form or anything, ya know, for the department? My clearance?”

There it was. Bobby felt it land in his chest like a weight. He stopped walking.

“Um… but you’re not - you’re not cleared, Smudge.” Bobby said gently, placing his hand on Buck’s shoulder to keep him from continuing down the hall. “Not yet.”

Buck turned fully toward him. The change was immediate.

The color drained from his face. His jaw tightened. His eyes filled so fast it almost hurt to watch.

“What? Yeah, no, I-I passed my physical and my recertification test. I’ve got everything I-I need.”

His voice wavered on the last word.

“It’s the blood thinners.” Bobby said softly. “The chief’s concerned about liability issues, and since the doctors haven’t figured out what’s causing the clots…”

Buck’s expression shifted from confusion to disbelief. Then to anger.

“Uh… I can’t come back to work?”

“Well, Smudge, if we were on a call and something happened to you -”

“And then I would have two paramedics and a field surgeon standing next to me!” Buck shot back, louder now. A couple of people down the hall glanced over. “I would be fine!”

Bobby held his gaze. Gave him the steady, grounded look that had gotten Buck through a hundred storms growing up.

“Dad, you- you know how hard I’ve worked for this! They can’t - they can’t do this to me.” Buck’s voice cracked. “Dad, you- you can’t let them take away my job.”

His hands were shaking now. He curled them into fists at his sides.

“Hey, they’re not.” Bobby said quietly. “You were injured in the line of duty, and no one is forgetting that, Kid. Chief Alonzo thinks that in a few weeks, if you’re doing okay on the meds, he can clear you for light duty.”

Buck nodded once. It wasn’t agreement. It was containment.

“For- for light duty?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Buck let out a sharp breath that almost sounded like a laugh.

“Uh,” he said, turning slightly away, staring down the hallway like he could see the trucks parked outside the station. “You mean, like, a desk job?”

“Now listen, Buck, I…” Bobby’s voice faltered.

He hated this part. Hated being the one standing between his son and the thing he loved most.

Buck stepped closer, invading Bobby’s space, eyes bright and furious.

“Out there,” he said, jabbing a finger toward the world beyond the hospital walls. “In the world, helping people, that is where I belong. And that is where I have spent the last six months fighting to get back to! And now you’re gonna tell me I-I can’t?”

“Listen, Smudge, I know this is hard, but at least light duty -”

“No! I don’t want light duty, okay?” Buck’s voice cracked fully now. “And- and neither would you. You didn’t! Back in Minnesota when your team didn’t trust you after the fire.”

That hit. Bobby’s hand tightened on Buck’s shoulder, not to restrain him, but to anchor him.

“Buck - ”

“No.” Buck shook his head hard, tears spilling over now despite his efforts. “They are not putting me behind a desk.”

He inhaled sharply, chest rising too fast. Then his face changed. The anger collapsed inward, replaced by something hollow. He let out a humorless breath of a laugh.

“I quit.”

The words hung between them, reckless and raw.

He held Bobby’s gaze for one long second. There was hurt there. And fear. And a desperate need to not feel powerless again.

Then he turned and walked away down the hallway, shoulders rigid, one step just slightly uneven.

Bobby stayed where he was. For a moment, he couldn’t move. He watched his son disappear around the corner, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. His composure, the one he’d worn through the entire conversation, cracked just enough for him to exhale slowly through his nose.

Two days later, Buck hadn’t left the couch much. Christopher was on the floor near the coffee table, one crutch resting against the couch, carefully sorting through a stack of trading cards. The TV was on low in the background, more for noise than attention.

Eddie came out of the kitchen with a glass of water and handed it to Buck. Buck took it without looking at him, then reached out and caught the fabric of Eddie’s shirt before he could step away. Eddie paused. Buck tugged lightly. Eddie sat.

Buck shifted immediately, curling into him, sliding an arm around Eddie’s waist and pressing his cheek into his shoulder. It wasn’t dramatic. It was instinctive. Like he needed something steady and warm to lean into.

Christopher looked up.

“Dad,” he said mildly, “he’s using you as a pillow again.”

“I’m aware,” Eddie replied, one hand resting at the back of Buck’s neck.

“I’m not that heavy,” Buck muttered into Eddie’s shirt.

Christopher grinned. “Didn’t say you were.”

The knock at the door made all three of them glance up.

“I’ll get it,” Eddie said quietly.

Buck’s fingers tightened for half a second before he let go.

Maddie stepped inside first, Xander at her side. Shannon followed, closing the door behind them.

“Hey,” Maddie said gently.

Buck shifted upright a little. “Hey.”

Xander crossed the room immediately.

“Uncle Buck!”

Buck forced more energy into his smile. “Hey, bud.”

Xander climbed up beside him without hesitation. “Mommy said you’re bored.”

Maddie shot him a look, but Buck huffed out a faint laugh.

“Your mom says a lot of things.”

“You look bored though. Are you bored?” Xander pressed.

Buck shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

Xander leaned closer, lowering his voice like it was a secret. “You wanna hear something gross Marcus said at school?”

Buck blinked. “I’m listening.”

For the next minute, Xander talked animatedly about something involving cafeteria milk and a dare that definitely shouldn’t have happened. Buck actually laughed this time. A real one. It faded quickly, but it was there.

Christopher reached for his crutches and pushed himself up carefully.

“Xander,” he called. “Come see this.”

Xander looked between them.

“Go,” Buck said. “Show him how to not swallow Legos.”

“I never swallowed a Lego,” Xander protested.

Christopher snorted. “Yet.”

The two boys disappeared down the hallway, Christopher moving steadily on his crutches, Xander hovering close like he was backup.

The house quieted again. Maddie stayed standing.

“You gonna finally speak to Dad?” she asked.

Buck leaned back into the couch, eyes on the ceiling. “I’m not ready.”

“He feels terrible,” Maddie said immediately. Buck’s jaw flexed.

“He keeps asking about you,” she continued. “He hates that he can’t be there for you.”

“I don’t need him checking in every five minutes,” Buck said, defensive but tired.

“He’s not trying to control you,” Maddie replied. “He’s scared.”

Buck sat up more fully. “Of what?”

“He almost lost you,” she said. “You collapsed in his yard. You were bleeding. He thought he was about to watch another one of his kids die.”

Buck looked away.

“That’s not fair,” he said quietly.

“I’m not trying to make it fair,” Maddie said, softer now. “I’m telling you where he’s at. He won’t survive losing another kid, Buck. Not after Daniel.”

The name landed heavy.

Eddie’s hand stilled at Buck’s shoulder.

Buck’s throat worked. He blinked rapidly.

“I’m not dying,” he muttered.

“I know, but we didn’t know that,” Maddie agreed. “And Dad doesn’t get to control what that moment felt like for him. He was terrified Buck! So was I. We had to watch Daniel’s body betray him, and yours was doing the same thing.”

Silence hung there.

Shannon leaned forward in her chair.

“I’m flying out tomorrow morning,” she said casually. “Boston. I’m running the open house for Maddie.”

Buck glanced at her. “Tomorrow?”

“Early. I’ll be gone a week.”

He frowned. “That’s quick.”

“It is,” she said. “Which means you’ve got a week to speak to your dad before I get back. I don’t wanna return to a house where you’re still pretending this isn’t a thing.”

Buck rolled his eyes at her. “You’re bossy.”

“I’m efficient,” she corrected. “And I know you. When you feel cornered, you shut down.”

“I’m not shut down,” he snapped.

Shannon held his gaze calmly. “You are.”

Buck stood abruptly.

“I’m tired,” he said. “I’m gonna lie down.”

“It’s not even six,” Eddie said gently.

“Still tired.”

He didn’t look at Maddie again. Didn’t look at Shannon either. He just walked down the hallway and closed the bedroom door.

The three adults stood in the living room for a second.

From Christopher’s room, laughter burst out, followed by Xander loudly whispering something that clearly wasn’t a whisper.

Maddie exhaled first. “I shouldn’t have brought up Daniel.”

“He needed to hear it,” Eddie said quietly, though his jaw was tight.

“He’s not ready,” Maddie said. “And I don’t think he’s ready to go back either. I get why Chief Alonzo isn’t signing him off.”

Eddie nodded. “I do too.”

“I hate that I do,” she added.

Shannon crossed her arms loosely. “He ties everything to that job.”

“I know,” Eddie said. “If he’s not out there, he thinks he’s not useful.”

“He’s scared he’s replaceable,” Shannon said. “That the station moves on without him.”

Eddie’s expression hardened. “It won’t.”

“I know that,” she replied. “But fear doesn’t care about facts.”

Maddie leaned back against the counter. “Dad’s just trying to protect him. He can’t fight the chief if he agrees with what he’s saying.”

“I know Bobby’s only trying to look out for him,” Eddie said. “But Buck hears control.”

Shannon nodded. “They’re both scared. They just don’t speak the same language when they are.”

Eddie rubbed a hand over his face. “He barely talks unless it’s about something practical. But if I stand up, he’s right there. If I move rooms, he follows.”

“He’s anchoring,” Shannon said quietly.

Eddie didn’t argue with that.

They all fell silent for a moment, listening to the boys down the hall.

Maddie finally said, “You think he’ll actually quit? Dad hasn’t started processing him yet.”

Shannon shook her head. “No. I think he just needed to say something that felt like he had control.”

Eddie looked toward the living room where Buck had been.

“He’s not alone in this,” he said quietly.

“No,” Shannon agreed. “He’s not.”

They just had to get him to believe it.

 A few days later, Shannon had gone to Boston, and Buck? Well Buck barely left his and Eddie’s bed. Eddie was worried, but was trying not to make too big a deal of it, especially when Chris asked questions.

It was a few days after Shannon left when Eddie was at the station, in the Loft kitchen with Bobby, Hen and Chimney. Since Buck’s injury, Bobby had decided all of the team would chip in to help cook, since his sous-chef wasn’t there. So Eddie was given the one task even he couldn’t mess up too badly - chopping the veg.

“So, Buck really hasn’t left the house all week?” Bobby asked, looking at Eddie.

Eddie shook his head.

“Nope.” 

Chimney let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, Maddie said she’s tried to get him to go out a couple times with Xander but it’s always ‘Why would I need to leave? Everyone delivers’.”

Bobby looked down at the counter, his face sad. “He still won’t even take my calls.”

“He’s hurt, Cap.” Eddie said simply. “He’s sulking, and rightfully so. But he’ll get over it.” 

“Hey,” Hen said with a sad smirk. “I like to give Buck crap as much as any of you, but Bobby, this was a body blow.”

“I know,” Bobby said sadly.

“The guy needs some time to mourn.” 

“The question is how much time.” Chimney countered, looking from Hen to Bobby, while Eddie kept his head down. 

“Chim’s right.” Eddie spoke up. “I love him more than anything, but his daily routine of walking from our bed to the couch and back again isn’t gonna help his situation.” Eddie picked up the serving bowl from the counter. “I was talking to my dad the other night, when Buck was having one of his long naps, and it reminded me of whenever stuff didn’t work out for me, my dad always told me to brush it off, keep moving forward.”

“Yes,” Hen nodded. “But your dad also told you to be the man of the house at age 10, so maybe his guidance isn’t what we follow. Because in this case? What does Buck move forward to?” 

“Before he joined the department, Buck didn’t have anything. He didn’t have any direction, and then he came here.” Bobby said, his voice soft. “And when everything happened with Wells, we promised we’d get through anything life threw at us as a team. So, even if he’s not talking to any of us, except Eddie, right now. He’s got us.”

Bobby made eye contact with Eddie, knowing they were gonna need to have a very separate conversation about Buck soon.

Evening settled over the Diaz house quietly. The living room lights were on, the sound of low voices drifting down the hallway from Chris’ room, but the bedroom was dim. The bed sat centered against the wall, open space on either side, the dresser across the room near the closet. The door stayed half open.

Buck lay on his side in the middle of the mattress, blanket tangled around his legs, staring at nothing in particular. He wasn’t scrolling anymore. His phone was somewhere near the pillows. He hadn’t moved much all day. 

The bedroom door flew open without a knock.

Maddie barged into Buck and Eddie’s bedroom, throwing herself on the bed beside her brother.

The mattress dipped hard. Buck jolted.

“Jesus, Maddie!” Buck whined, scooting toward the opposite side of the bed to keep from getting elbowed. He shoved a pillow between them like it would protect him.

She didn’t even look sorry.

“Eddie’s working for another 5 hours, so is Chimney.” Maddie started, kicking her shoes off and letting them land near the foot of the bed. “The boys are in Chris’ room doing their homework. Well they’re supposed to be doing their homework. So you and me, we’re gonna talk.”

Buck rolled his eyes and dropped back against the headboard with a thud.

“Mads, I don’t want to talk. I wanna lie here until I feel better.”

“Yeah, no.” Maddie said, grabbing Buck’s forearm and hauling him upright when he tried to slide back down. He let out a long, dramatic sigh but didn’t fight her too hard. “You know that doesn’t work in this family.”

Buck scrubbed both hands down his face, then dragged them into his hair.

“Maddie, everything I’ve worked for for the last 2 years has just been ripped away from me.” Buck argued, turning to his sister. Up close, the exhaustion showed. His eyes were red rimmed, skin pale, jaw tight. “I’m allowed to be upset.”

“Of course you are, Smudge.” Maddie said softly. Her voice lost its edge. She reached over and nudged his knee. “But you’re shutting everyone out. You barely leave this bed. Eddie’s worried about you. Shan’s worried about you and Dad’s beside himself because he hasn’t heard your voice in days!”

Buck’s mouth flattened.

He swung his legs off the bed, feet hitting the floor, elbows braced on his thighs.

“Yeah, well he could’ve fought the chief a little more then, huh?”

Maddie shifted, sitting cross-legged behind him.

“Buck,” Maddie leveled, her tone flat. “Dad will be fighting his hardest to get you back to work. But the Chief’s right. You’re on blood thinners, and could throw a clot at any time. They need to know you’re back in fighting shape before they actually let you back.”

Buck stood abruptly, pacing the few steps between the bed and the dresser, then back again. The room wasn’t huge, but it was enough for restless energy.

“Maddie-”

“We can stop talking about it for now,” Maddie said, slapping her hands against her thighs as she stood too. “So, instead, I’m gonna tell you about the crazy call we dealt with today.”

Buck stopped mid-pace, brow furrowing despite himself.

“Crazy how?”

“Oh, I don’t know. A woman eviscerated a pregnant woman’s belly to steal the baby and left the mother in the trunk of her car?”

Buck’s head snapped up.

“I’m sorry?”

“Yup.” Maddie folded her arms. “Athena and the 118 searched half the city for her.” She leaned back against the dresser now, watching him closely. “They found her behind one of a park with those little horse pens.”

Buck swallowed.

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, I went to the hospital before I came here.” She confirmed. “Both mom and baby are doing okay. She’ll probably need a lifetime of therapy to deal with the trauma, but she’ll live.”

Buck ran a hand over his mouth.

“Thank God she’s alive.”

Maddie nodded.

“I saw Dad at the hospital. He and Athena stopped by to check on Jill.”

Buck’s shoulders tightened again instantly.

“And we’re back to Dad.”

“Smudge, come on!”

He turned away from her and walked back toward the bed, stopping at the side closest to the wall.

“Maddie, can you just leave please?” Buck said, his tone frustrated and cold.

She straightened.

“Buck-”

“Go, Maddie.” Buck snapped.

The air shifted. Even from a few feet away, she could see the way his hands were shaking.

“I- please don’t shut me out, Buck.”

“You can shut yourself out,” Buck said coldly. “When you close the door behind you.”

He climbed back onto the bed from the side, crawling across the mattress and rolling toward the wall. He yanked the covers up over his head, curling in on himself.

Maddie stood there for a long moment, staring at the shape of him under the blanket.

Then she inhaled slowly.

“What about Christopher, huh?” Maddie said, stepping closer to the bed. “Carla’s on vacation, remember? Shannon’s in Boston and Eddie’s at work. So are you gonna get up to feed the 8 year old in your care?”

The covers shifted sharply.

Buck rolled over and glared at her from under the blanket.

“That’s playing dirty.”

“Mm-hmm.” Maddie said with a nod. “How about you get out of bed, brush your teeth, then we can go to the kitchen and make the boys some dinner? Distract yourself a little.”

“I asked you to leave, Mads.”

“You did. And I’m ignoring you.” Maddie turned on her heels and walked toward the door. She paused just outside the frame and called back, “You’ve got 5 minutes, Buck, or I’m sending Xander in there!”

Buck groaned loudly and flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

He stayed there for a few seconds.

Then he swung his legs over the side of the bed again and pushed himself up with visible reluctance.

From the hallway, Maddie heard the bathroom door open and then the sink running.

She allowed herself the smallest breath of relief before heading toward the kitchen, listening to the boys arguing about fractions down the hall.

The kitchen lights were bright, warmer than the bedroom had been all day. The stove was already on when Buck shuffled in, hair still damp from splashing water on his face. He didn’t look thrilled to be vertical.

Maddie stood at the counter cutting chicken, not looking at him.

“Glad you could join us,” she said lightly.

Buck leaned his hip against the opposite counter. “I was threatened.”

“I meant it.”

“I know.”

She slid a cutting board toward him. “Peppers. Try not to injure yourself.”

He picked up the knife without enthusiasm. “I’m not incompetent.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“You implied it.”

She smirked. “Maybe.”

They worked in silence for a minute. The only sounds were the knife against the board and oil popping softly in the pan.

“So,” Maddie said, keeping her tone casual, “Josh Russo had the worst date of his life this week.”

Buck didn’t look up. “That’s a strong claim.”

“Guy showed up looking nothing like his picture.”

That got his attention.

“How bad?”

“High school graduation photo bad.”

Buck snorted quietly. “No.”

“Yes. Like fifteen years and a completely different face.”

“That’s bold.”

“Josh said he knew immediately but stayed for mozzarella sticks.”

“I don’t blame him. I’d have done the same.”

“Exactly what I said.”

Buck slid the peppers into the pan. The sizzle filled the room. He watched them like they were fascinating.

“Xander’s planning something too,” Maddie added.

Buck raised a brow. “Should I be worried?”

“He’s decided he’s staking out the Tooth Fairy next time he loses a tooth.”

Buck blinked. “He’s what?”

“He’s got a plan.”

“That’s not how that works.”

“He thinks if he hides under the bed with a flashlight, he’ll catch her.”

Buck shook his head slowly. “He’s gonna ruin it for himself.”

“He says he’s willing to take that risk.”

Buck huffed softly. “Why does it sound like something I would’ve done?”

Maddie stirred the pan, then added, “Oh, and Karen told me something at wine night.”

Buck leaned back against the counter. “Please tell me it’s not IVF hormone chaos.”

“It’s not. It’s CalTech drama. Apparently someone sent a reply-all calling a department head ‘intellectually fragile.’”

Buck’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s savage.”

“Right? Karen said she just sat there sipping her wine watching tenure implode.”

Buck almost smiled. “Academics are brutal.”

“They really are.”

Before either of them could drift back into quiet, the steady click of crutches sounded down the hallway.

Chris appeared first in the doorway, moving carefully but confidently, his homework folder tucked under one arm. Xander hovered behind him, already peering toward the stove.

“Is it ready?” Xander asked immediately.

“Almost,” Maddie said. “Did you actually do your homework?”

“Yes,” both boys answered at once.

Buck turned toward them, pushing off the counter.

“Oh yeah?” he said lightly. “Or was it more of a group stare until the answers appeared?”

Chris smiled faintly. “We did it.”

“I only asked for help twice,” Xander added.

“Way to go, Kiddo!” Buck said.

He stepped closer and nudged Xander’s shoulder gently.

“So I hear there’s a Tooth Fairy ambush coming up.”

Xander’s face lit up. “You’ll help me, right?”

Buck put a hand to his chest. “I have retired from fairy-related operations.”

“You can’t retire,” Xander said immediately.

“Watch me.”

Chris shifted his crutches slightly and looked at Buck more carefully.

“You haven’t made pancakes in a while,” Chris said.

Buck blinked. “Wow. That’s where we’re going?”

“The chocolate chip ones,” Chris clarified.

Buck’s expression softened.

“Yeah?”

Chris nodded. “I miss them.”

Xander nodded too. “And you said we’d go to the movies again. The big one. Not just the TV.”

Buck crouched down slowly so he was closer to their level.

“I will,” he said. “I just need a minute.”

Xander tilted his head. “You’ve had a lot of minutes.”

Maddie went still at the stove.

Chris said it more gently. “You can’t stay in bed forever.”

Buck swallowed.

“I know,” he said quietly.

There wasn’t any bite in it this time.

He forced a small smirk.

“You two are very bossy.”

“That’s your influence,” Maddie said without turning around.

Buck huffed softly and stood up again.

“Alright. Plates. Let’s eat before your mom burns dinner.”

“Hey,” Maddie protested.

The boys headed to the table, arguing about who got which cup. Buck lingered for a second, watching them settle in. Then he reached for the plates and followed.

By the time Eddie got home from his shift, Maddie had already gone home.

The house was quiet in that heavy way it only got when Chris was asleep and Buck was trying not to think too loudly. Buck had managed to pull himself together long enough to give Chris a bath, sitting on the edge of the tub while Chris talked about fractions and how Xander’s Tooth Fairy trap was definitely going to work this time. Buck had smiled in the right places. He’d even done the silly pirate voice for one of Chris’ bath toys.

He’d read a bedtime story too. He couldn’t have told you what it was about. He’d started strong, then somewhere in the middle his voice had gone softer and slower. Chris had drifted off halfway through a sentence, his crutches resting against the wall beside his bed. Buck had watched him for a long minute before turning off the lamp.

Then he’d gone back to his and Eddie’s room.

He’d sat on the edge of the bed first. Then he’d laid back. Then he’d stared at the ceiling, going over everything Maddie had told him. Trying to convince him to speak to Bobby again. Telling him about the call the 118 had been on. And the more he thought about it, the more depressed he became.

The pregnant woman. The trunk. The fact that the 118 had been out there doing something that mattered while he’d been in bed. 

He eventually pushed himself up and went for a shower, standing under the water longer than necessary. Not thinking. Just standing there.

Afterward, he slipped into a black t-shirt and pair of dark gray joggers. He climbed into bed again and just waited for Eddie to get home.

When Eddie walked through the door, a little after 10pm, Buck was barely awake. He heard the keys, the soft thud of boots being kicked off, the familiar rhythm of Eddie moving through the house. Eddie stepped into the bedroom, smelling faintly of smoke and soap.

Buck forced his eyes open long enough to shift up onto an elbow.

Eddie leaned down, brushing his mouth gently over Buck’s.

Buck mumbled a tired, “Night,” and sank back into the mattress before Eddie had even changed out of his clothes.

Eddie stood there for a second, watching him. He brushed a hand through Buck’s hair, then quietly went to shower.

He was at a loss. Chris was off school the next day for a teacher training day, which Eddie could guarantee Buck forgot and since Carla was out of town, Eddie had an idea.

He knew that Buck could, and would, never say no to Christopher. The kid had Buck wrapped around his little finger.

So, Eddie showered quickly and slipped into bed beside his boyfriend. Buck, in his sleep, curled in and ended up with his head on Eddie’s chest. Eddie wrapped an arm around him automatically, staring up at the ceiling for a while before sleep finally caught him too.

Eddie’s shift the next day wasn’t until 10, so he slipped out of bed around 8, letting Buck carry on sleeping.

He got Chris in a bath, kneeling beside the tub and helping him wash his hair while Chris told him about a video he’d watched. Then he got him dressed in his little yellow striped shirt and chinos, buttoning carefully. He made sure Chris had eaten his cereal, wiping milk from the corner of his mouth.

Then he turned and headed straight to his and Buck’s bedroom.

Buck had the covers pulled completely over his head, and Eddie could tell he was lying in the fetal position.

With a sigh, Eddie grabbed the corner of the covers and pulled.

“Get up!”

Buck groaned and shot an annoyed look up at Eddie. “Eds! Why? Come on!” He complained, before pulling the sheets back over his head, turning away from Eddie.

Eddie walked around the bed to the other side.

“Because it’s morning,” he started, pulling the covers again. “And you have things to do.”

“No, I really don’t.” Buck said with a pout, which Eddie would normally find adorable. He did find it adorable, but he wasn’t relenting.

“You need to get out of this house and take a walk around the block.” Eddie said, as Buck pulled the covers back over him. Eddie stopped that by grabbing the covers and throwing them to the floor. “You need to get some fresh air.”

Buck shot up in the bed, hair a mess, face clearly annoyed, as he shot his boyfriend a betrayed look. He realised that Eddie wasn’t giving up though, so he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Why? What’s the point?”

“Well, the point is, your life isn’t over just because you’re not a firefighter.”

Buck rolled his eyes as he walked out of the bedroom and across the hall to the bathroom. “Says the firefighter.”

Eddie followed him, leaning in the doorway as Buck turned on the tap and splashed water on his face.

“You know, that blood clot could’ve killed you. But it didn’t.” Eddie said, following Buck into the bathroom. “Carino, you have your whole life ahead of you. Our life. So, why can’t you take it as a win and stop feeling sorry for yourself?”

Buck stopped what he was doing at the sink, to glare at Eddie in the mirror. His jaw tightened. He exhaled sharply, then pushed past Eddie and towards the living room.

“Hey Buck!” Christopher called as Buck walked into the living room.

Buck blinked, thrown.

“Hey, buddy!” Buck said, smiling, while looking from Chris to Eddie. “Uh, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at school today?”

“Teacher training day,” Eddie said simply, as he walked straight over to Chris, wrapping his arms around his son. “So, he’s hanging out with his Buck today!” he said, sitting Chris back on the couch. He turned to Buck with a serious look. “‘Cause I have to go to work today.”

“Uh- wh-where’s Carla?”

Chris looked up from the couch. “She went to Morongo.” Chris said proudly.

“Mm-hmm.” Eddie said, smiling brightly at his son. He turned to Buck, his smile softening. “You know that. We spoke about the other day.”

“I guess-” Buck stopped. “I guess I forgot.”

“I thought so.” Eddie walked over, putting his hands on his boyfriend’s hips. Buck stiffened at first, then relaxed slightly. “Take him out. Have some fun. Maybe you’ll learn something?”

He leaned forward, placing his forehead against Buck’s. “He never feels sorry for himself.”

Buck’s face was like thunder, but Eddie leaned in, giving him a kiss. “I love you,”

“You too,” Buck said, his voice quiet.

Eddie squeezed his hips once, then stepped back.

He turned to Chris. “Love you, buddy!”

“Love you,” Chris said, picking up his tablet from the table. “Love you, Dad!”

Eddie chuckled as he headed out the door.

Buck stared after Eddie, frowning. The front door clicked shut. The house felt bigger without him in it.

He turned slowly to Chris, who was just staring at him.

Buck exhaled, slapping his hands on his thighs.

“So, uh, what do you wanna do today? Since we’ve to go have fun?”

Chris had taken the assignment seriously. He’d sat at the coffee table with a pencil and a piece of lined paper and written out a list in careful, slightly uneven handwriting. Beach. Amusement park. Zoo. Pier. Underneath that, in darker pencil where he’d pressed harder, Ferris wheel.

Buck had scanned the list, nodding along, already leaning toward something simple and manageable.

Then Christopher had looked up at him and said he’d never been on a ferris wheel before.

That had done it.

Normally, Buck would’ve left something like that for Eddie. Or Shannon. A first like that felt like it belonged to a parent. But Eddie had been so steady about it lately, so certain that Buck wasn’t just living in their house but was part of it. Part of Chris’ life. Not a guest. Not a babysitter.

So Buck had nodded once and said, “Pier it is.”

He’d put Spongebob on for Chris and told him he’d be quick. Chris had settled in with his glasses slightly crooked, red elastic snug around the back of his head, legs tucked up under him.

Buck moved slower in the bedroom than he wanted to admit. His leg throbbed faintly, more stiff than sharp. He hadn’t been moving much. That was on him. He grabbed his pain pills from the nightstand, swallowed them dry, then headed for the shower.

The hot water helped. Loosened him up a little.

When he stepped into the closet afterward, he paused in front of his clothes longer than necessary. He pulled out the salmon pink button down shirt Hen and Karen had given him for his birthday. He’d laughed when he’d opened it, said something about it being bold. They’d both told him he’d look good in it. He’d worn it once.

He ran a hand over the fabric, then grabbed it.

Gray chinos. Clean enough.

He opened Eddie’s dresser without thinking and pulled one of Eddie’s white t-shirts from the third drawer. It felt familiar. Grounding.

He dressed quickly, ran product through his hair, then stepped back into the living room.

Chris wasn’t watching Spongebob anymore. He was on his tablet, legs stretched out carefully in front of him.

“Ready?” Buck asked.

Chris looked up immediately. “Yeah.”

Buck packed snacks, water, a small pack of wipes into Chris’ backpack. He double checked the crutch grips like he always did. Then he sent Eddie a text letting him know they were heading out.

The pier was loud before they even reached it. Music, rides creaking overhead, people laughing.

First stop was the bathroom. Buck waited outside the stall, leaning against the wall, checking his phone and glancing toward the door every few seconds. Then they made their way to the ferris wheel.

Buck didn’t say much in line. He kept a hand on Chris’ shoulder, guiding him carefully over the wooden planks.

When they were seated and the wheel started moving, Chris’ face changed. His whole body seemed lighter. He gripped the bar in front of him and giggled under his breath as they rose higher.

Buck wrapped an arm around his shoulders and held him steady. He didn’t look at the view much. He looked at Chris.

When they stepped off, Chris didn’t wait. He started moving immediately, crutches clicking against the boards. Buck jogged a couple steps and crouched in front of him.

“Now, which one do you wanna go on next?” Buck asked.

Chris’ smile was wide, eyes darting everywhere at once.

“Down here?” Buck asked, pointing towards the Shark Frenzy ride.

Christopher nodded and let out a soft “Yeah!”

“Okay, come on. Come on!” Buck said, matching his excitement.

They detoured to the Gyro Loop when Chris changed his mind. Buck held him up against the height chart and grinned when Chris hit the line exactly.

He turned to the ride operator. “Great, right?”

The operator shook his head. “You’re too tall, man.”

Buck blinked, then glanced at the sign again. Yeah. He was.

“Ha-ha-haha- ha!” Chris sing-song laughed.

Buck threw his hands up. “Wow. Betrayed by my own height.”

The operator didn’t budge.

“Okay, let's go to the Shark Frenzy, kiddo.” Buck said, clapping his hands on Chris’ shoulders.

The Shark Frenzy let them both on. Chris handed over his crutches and Buck lifted him easily, setting him into the shark seat before climbing in beside him. He kept one arm across Chris’ middle the whole time.

Chris screamed joyfully from start to finish. Buck laughed harder than he had in days.

Afterward, they wandered. Chris’ pace slowed a little. Buck noticed.

“Buck?” Chris started softly. “Hey Buck?”

“Yeah, Superman?”

“Can we get cotton candy?”

Buck gasped dramatically. “Cotton candy?”

Chris nodded.

“Let’s do it!”

Buck slung the backpack over his shoulder and picked Chris up. The boy wrapped his arms around Buck’s neck without hesitation. Buck carried him through the crowd to the stand.

Blue bubblegum for him. Pink strawberry for Chris.

They found the corner of a picnic table. Chris carefully tore off a piece and popped it into his mouth.

“Mmm!” Chris declared.

“Is it good?” Buck asked, nodding seriously.

“That cotton candy is so good!”

Buck laughed softly and took a bite of his own. 

They hit the photo booth next. Silly faces. Crossed eyes. One serious picture at the end. Buck knew Eddie would love that one.

They moved through the arcade strategically. Buck made sure Chris could sit for the games. When Chris spotted the giant teddy bear, that was it.

Buck set him up at the water gun station.

“Okay, this is for all the marbles.” Buck said, bending down at the waist.

“Buck?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

Chris’ grin was pure Shannon. “I don’t want the marbles. I want the bear!”

Buck barked out a laugh. “It’s a figure of speech. Now, you ready?”

“Yeah!”

Buck positioned himself behind Chris, hands hovering just above his.

“I’m gonna hold right here, ‘kay?”

Chris nodded. The bell rang.

“Alright, we’re gonna shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot!”

The water hit the target. The little wolf climbed steadily.

“Oh, you did it!” Buck cheered, kneeling beside him. “Give me my high five!”

Chris slapped his hand. Buck threw himself backward dramatically.

Then the sirens cut through the air. The sound snapped something in him. Buck’s body reacted before his brain did. He stood up slowly, eyes scanning. Two paramedics were moving quickly toward one of the costumed mascots slumped near the snack stand.

“Buck!” Christopher called.

Buck didn’t answer.

“Buck!”

He turned. Chris was trying to lift the giant teddy bear.

“Oh, hey, uh, sorry.” Buck said quickly, grabbing the bear. “I-I got it.”

He couldn’t help it. His eyes kept drifting back. The paramedics were kneeling now. A firefighter jogged over.

“Are you okay?” Christopher asked.

Buck’s mouth tightened. “The universe is mocking me.”

He exhaled sharply. He turned back to Chris and forced his eyebrows up. “Let's go feed the fish!”

He slung the bear over his shoulder and walked with Chris toward the end of the pier, matching his slower pace.

At the bench, Buck set the bear down first. He took Chris’ crutches and leaned them carefully against it. Then he lifted Chris onto the bench and sat down beside him, one hand gripping the back of his striped shirt firmly.

Chris leaned forward, peering down at the water.

Buck stared back toward the rides. Toward the flashing lights. Toward the emergency vehicles.

“You ever think about what you want to do with your life?” Buck asked, turning to look up at him. “What you want to be when you grow up?”

Chris nodded immediately. “Astronaut or a pirate.”

Buck nodded, impressed. “Some good choices. Cool outfits too.”

Chris grinned. “No, wait! A firefighter!”

Buck chuckled. “Yeah, me too.” 

The words sat heavier than he expected. Buck’s face shifted. Chris was watching the water now. Buck licked his lips. “But Chris, if those career paths don’t work out, um…” He hesitated. “I hope you find something you love.”

Chris looked down at him.

“You know? Something you’re good at, makes you feel like you matter.” Buck swallowed. “Something you could do forever. ‘Cause when you do, it’s gonna tell you who you are. And it’s gonna show you the rest of your life. And that is the best feeling.”

His throat tightened.

“I hope you get that. And I hope you get to keep it.”

“You’re gonna be okay, kid.” Chris said, reaching down and placing his hand gently on Buck’s jaw.

Buck stilled. Chris’ hand was small. Warm and steady. Buck looked up at him and smiled. He’d heard Eddie tell Chris the same thing a dozen times, when he’d had a bad day at PT, or when he was being alienated at his old school. Chris always found comfort in it, and clearly thought Buck would feel the same. And he was right.

Buck continued to smile at Chris. Then something shifted in the distance.

A strange murmur ran through the crowd. A ripple.

Buck’s smile faded slowly.

He stood, still gripping the back of Chris’ shirt.

People nearby were turning toward the water.

Buck followed their gaze. The waterline had pulled back unnaturally far, exposing dark sand and rocks that shouldn’t have been visible. His stomach dropped. He knew that wasn’t a good sign.

Just out of sight, out beyond the horizon, something rose. A wall of water, growing taller by the second, rushing toward the Santa Monica Pier. Rushing toward Buck and Christopher.

Chapter Text

At the bench, Buck set the bear down first. He took Chris’ crutches and leaned them carefully against it. Then he lifted Chris onto the bench and sat down beside him, one hand gripping the back of his striped shirt firmly.

Chris leaned forward, peering down at the water.

Buck stared back toward the rides. Toward the flashing lights. Toward the emergency vehicles.

“You ever think about what you want to do with your life?” Buck asked, turning to look up at him. “What you want to be when you grow up?”

Chris nodded immediately. “Astronaut or a pirate.”

Buck nodded, impressed. “Some good choices. Cool outfits too.”

Chris grinned. “No, wait! A firefighter!”

Buck chuckled. “Yeah, me too.” 

The words sat heavier than he expected. Buck’s face shifted. Chris was watching the water now. Buck licked his lips. “But Chris, if those career paths don’t work out, um…” He hesitated. “I hope you find something you love.”

Chris looked down at him.

“You know? Something you’re good at, makes you feel like you matter.” Buck swallowed. “Something you could do forever. ‘Cause when you do, it’s gonna tell you who you are. And it’s gonna show you the rest of your life. And that is the best feeling.”

His throat tightened.

“I hope you get that. And I hope you get to keep it.”

“You’re gonna be okay, kid.” Chris said, reaching down and placing his hand gently on Buck’s jaw.

Buck stilled. Chris’ hand was small. Warm and steady. Buck looked up at him and smiled. He’d heard Eddie tell Chris the same thing a dozen times, when he’d had a bad day at PT, or when he was being alienated at his old school. Chris always found comfort in it, and clearly thought Buck would feel the same. And he was right.

Buck continued to smile at Chris.

For half a second, everything felt steady. The hum of the rides. The chatter. The salt in the air. Chris’ hand still warm against his jaw.

Then something shifted in the distance.

It wasn’t loud at first. Just a change in tone. A strange murmur ran through the crowd. A ripple, like confusion moving person to person faster than words could.

Buck’s smile faded slowly. He stood, still gripping the back of Chris’ shirt, fingers tightening without him realizing. People nearby were turning toward the water, squinting.

Buck followed their gaze.

The waterline had pulled back unnaturally far, exposing dark sand and jagged rocks that shouldn’t have been visible. Boats in the harbor tilted awkwardly, their hulls resting at wrong angles. The air felt off. Too open. Too quiet under the noise.

His stomach dropped. He knew that wasn’t a good sign.

He’d seen footage in training. He’d heard the briefings. Water didn’t just disappear.

“Where did all the water go?” Christopher asked, turning his head to Buck.

Buck didn’t answer right away. His brain was already moving ahead, calculating distance, exits, weight, obstacles. He scanned the pier. Too far to the parking lot. Too exposed at the rail.

Then the siren blared out from the horns on the poles, a harsh mechanical wail that cut through everything. Conversations died instantly.

Buck’s head snapped up.

A wall of water, growing taller by the second, rushed toward the shore.

It wasn’t graceful. It was violent. Churning. It swallowed the horizon as it came.

Buck’s eyes grew larger as everyone around them started bolting off. Screams layered over the siren. Feet pounded against wood.

Buck grabbed Christopher, wrapping his arms around the boy’s chest at first, instinctively shielding him, before shifting him up and throwing him over his shoulder. He felt Chris’ weight settle against him, small hands clutching at his shirt.

He started sprinting in the same direction as everyone else, heart slamming against his ribs.

“Run!” Buck yelled, waving his arm at people who were frozen in place. “Get off the pier! GO!”

His voice tore out of him, sharp and commanding.

Buck kept running, holding onto Chris, but the shooting pain in his leg flared hard and sudden, a white-hot streak that made his stride hitch. His foot didn’t push off the way it should. Each step sent a jolt up his spine.

He gritted his teeth and kept moving.

He wanted to keep running. He really, really wanted to keep running, for Christopher.

But the pier was long. Too long.

The wave was closer now. He could hear it. A deep, roaring thunder that drowned out the siren.

As they passed the harbor office and public bathrooms, Buck’s vision tunneled. He forced himself to look. Structure. Cover. Something solid enough to break force. 

The Baseball Toss stand.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t safe. But it was something.

He made a beeline for the stand, shoving through the last stretch of people. His leg screamed in protest. He nearly stumbled but corrected, tightening his grip on Chris.

He maneuvered Christopher off his shoulder, hands shaking now, adrenaline burning through him.

“Hey, hey,” he said quickly, breath ragged. “I got you.”

He quickly, but carefully, placed Christopher inside the stand, pushing him down behind the counter where the wooden frame and back wall offered some protection. He shoved the giant teddy bear in front of him on instinct, adding bulk between Chris and open air.

“Stay down!” Buck shouted, hands on Chris’ shoulders for one brief second. “Don’t move!”

Christopher’s eyes were wide, but he nodded.

Buck turned around.

The wave was almost at them.

It filled his entire field of vision now. Towering. Dirty and violent, carrying debris in its surge.

There wasn’t time to think about whether this was enough.

Without another thought, Buck turned and leapt over the side of the Baseball Toss stand, throwing himself away from the opening just as the water hit.

Buck’s body struggled below the high water. The force of it was worse than he’d expected. It wasn’t just water. It was wood splinters, metal, sand, pieces of stalls, parts of the pier itself. It shoved at him from every direction, spinning him sideways. His shoulder clipped something hard. His leg flared with sharp, blinding pain that shot up through his hip.

He forced his mouth shut and held his breath.

The current dragged at him, trying to pull him deeper, farther out. He kicked anyway. His leg protested immediately, a deep, screaming ache that made his foot feel weak and useless. He ignored it. He pushed with the other leg harder.

Bodies and debris passed him as he held his breath, flashes of color and movement in murky water. A plastic chair. A cooler. A plank of wood that grazed his ribs. He twisted his body, angling upward.

Eventually, he managed to pull himself to the surface, breaking through with a violent gasp. Air burned his lungs. He coughed, choking on salt water, blinking it from his eyes.

The pier was gone. Or most of it was. The world looked wrong.

He immediately spotted a row of string lights that had somehow managed to stay attached, sagging low but still strung between two poles. He lunged and grabbed onto them with his right hand, wrapping his fingers tight around the wire. It cut into his palm, but it held.

He immediately started scanning for Christopher.

Stuffed animals floated on the surface of the water as Buck looked around. Bright pink. Neon green. Prizes from games that no longer existed. His chest tightened at the sight of them.

“CHRISTOPHER!” Buck screamed out, his voice high and pained. “CHRIS?! CHRISTOPHER!”

His throat burned as he shouted. The wind carried his voice away.

He turned his body, looking around the other direction. “CHRISTOPHER?! CHRISTOPHER! CHRISTOPHER?!”

“BUCK!”

The sound hit him like a jolt.

He snapped toward it.

“BUCK!” He heard from a little bit away. Christopher. He sounded terrified. But he was alive. “BUCK!” Chris yelled again.

Buck turned his body fully in the direction, twisting around the string lights. He saw him.

Christopher was clinging tightly to a lamp post, small hands wrapped around the metal, crutches gone. Water slammed against his legs. His glasses were still on, the red elastic stretched tight.

“BUCK!”

“CHRIS!” Buck yelled out, relief punching through him so hard it almost made him dizzy. But he was still too far. “CHRIS! CHRIS, JUST - JUST STAY THERE! DON’T MOVE!”

He didn’t wait.

Buck let go of the string lights and immediately felt the current seize him again. He drove himself forward, arms cutting through the water.

He kept swimming though, pushing with everything in him to get to Chris. To Eddie’s son. To Shannon’s son.

The water shoved him sideways. His leg spasmed, pain streaking down it so hard he nearly swallowed more water. For a second he was pulled back under, darkness closing in as debris scraped along his back.

He kicked harder.

He broke the surface again and forced himself forward.

As he got closer, he realised that the water was carrying him too far out. Every stroke forward felt like it was matched by a shove sideways.

“GRAB MY HAND!” Buck yelled as he got closer to Chris. “CHRISTOPHER, REACH OUT!”

Chris shifted one hand, stretching toward him. Buck reached. Their fingers brushed.

The water surged between them, ripping Buck sideways.

“NO, CHRIS!” Buck screamed. “CHRIS! AH! AH! CHRIS! STAY OVER THERE!”

“I CAN’T HOLD ON!” Christopher cried out.

Buck saw it now. The way Chris’ arms trembled. The way his shoulders strained. The current slammed into his small body over and over.

“JUST HOLD ON, CHRISTOPHER!”

“BUCK!”

It was high and sharp and cut straight through him.

Buck turned his head and caught sight of the top of a car floating half-submerged nearby. He shoved himself toward it and hauled himself up just enough to get his chest over the roof. His arms shook. His leg screamed. He sucked in air, trying to think.

I’m a hero. I should know what to do! Maybe the Chief is right. Maybe Maddie and Dad are right. I’m not ready. I’m not a hero! The thoughts hit hard and fast and cruel.

Then Chris’ grip slipped.

Buck saw it happen.

The small hands slid down the pole. The water surged. Chris disappeared beneath the surface.

Buck didn’t think again.

He pushed off the car roof and dove. The water swallowed him whole. He opened his eyes despite the sting and scanned through murk and bubbles. There. He reached blindly and felt fabric. An arm. He wrapped his arm around the boy’s middle and pulled him in tight.

Chris immediately threw his arms around Buck’s neck, clinging hard, his body shaking. Buck kicked and fought upward. They broke the surface together.

“God! I got you!” Buck sobbed out, choking on air. “I got you! I got you!”

Chris’ face was pressed against his shoulder. His fingers dug into Buck’s shirt.

Buck tightened his hold, one hand flying up to the back of Chris’ head, fingers threading through wet hair to keep him close.

He couldn’t let go. Not even for a second.

He forced his free arm down into the water and started pushing them forward, angling with the current instead of against it now. The surge was slowing slightly, losing some of its violence.

He swam with the boy wrapped around his neck, Chris’ legs hooked tight around his waist. He kept scanning between strokes.

He needed something solid. Something that wouldn’t move.

And then he saw it. Their salvation - A fire truck.

It sat crooked and half-submerged but heavier than everything else around them.

Buck adjusted his angle and swam toward it, each stroke a battle. His leg throbbed so badly it felt like it might give out entirely.

As they got closer, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

A large piece of debris, tangled with bikes and twisted metal, was floating toward them fast.

“Hold on!” Buck muttered, though Chris was already clinging like he never planned to let go.

Buck used the last of his momentum to hoist Chris up, pushing him onto the roof of the fire truck. Chris scrambled, wet sneakers slipping, but he got his little body over the edge.

Buck didn’t hesitate. He let go and ducked under the water just as the debris slammed past, scraping loudly along the side of the truck. The force of it pushed him deeper for a second before it passed.

When the water stilled slightly again, Buck surfaced, coughing. He looked around quickly. Nothing else immediately coming.

He grabbed the small piece of rope attached to the truck and hauled himself up, arms shaking with effort. His boots slipped once before he found traction.

He rolled onto the roof beside Chris. 

For a second, he just lay there, chest heaving, water pouring off him. Then he rolled onto his side and grabbed hold of Chris’ shirt again. Anchoring himself. Making sure he was real.

20 Minutes Before the Tsunami

The jets of the foot spas bubbled fast, vibrating against the porcelain as warm water lapped at Athena’s ankles. The salon smelled faintly of lavender lotion and acetone. Tammy worked with steady concentration, shaping Athena’s nails with careful precision.

Athena leaned back into the massage chair, shoulders loosening as it rolled against her spine. “I'm not gonna lie, Tammy. I live for this.” She smiled, admiring the neat rows of polish bottles reflected in the mirror. “Me and my baby girl getting treated like the queens we are.” She chuckled.

May sat beside her, feet submerged in the churning water, but her back stayed stiff against the chair. Her fingers picked at a loose thread on her sleeve.

“I don't lie, either.” Tammy started, adjusting Athena’s hand under the light. “I like having two standing appointments every month.”

Both Tammy and Athena laughed easily. May forced a thin smile, then looked down at the water.

“But I am gonna miss this young lady when she goes off to college.” Tammy said, leaning toward May with a friendly tilt of her head.

“Assuming I get accepted somewhere.” May bit out, shooting her mother a glare that was more frustration than anger.

“Not this again.”

May straightened in her chair. “I haven't finished any applications.” Her voice sharpened as the words spilled out. “I still need two letters of rec, and the U.C. app is a totally different thing. And I haven't finished my essay.”

Athena turned slightly toward her daughter, brows lifting. “Don't worry, baby. We'll--we'll figure this out.” She meant to sound reassuring, but it came out quick, like she was brushing something aside.

May’s jaw tightened. She exhaled through her nose and stared ahead, blinking hard.

The rest of the appointment went by in small talk and polite smiles. May responded when she had to, but her mind clearly wasn’t there.

A short while later, they were back in Athena’s car. The engine hummed steadily as they merged into traffic. Athena held the wheel with one hand, tilting the other under the sunlight to admire the shine of her polish.

May had her phone out again, thumb scrolling quickly.

“All these websites say you're supposed to write about something important.” May said, not looking up. “Well, what if I haven't done anything important?”

“Well, you're 17. No one's expecting you to write about that time you cured cancer.” Athena laughed, glancing sideways at her daughter before refocusing on the road. May rolled her eyes. “Baby, why are you stressin' about this?”

“I shouldn't have come today.” May said defensively. “You shouldn't have made me. I should be studying for the ACT.”

Athena’s grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel. “Well, I thought you could use a break.”

“Oh, my God.” May muttered, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

Traffic slowed ahead of them, brake lights glowing red in the late afternoon light.

“Baby, you got this.” Athena said, reaching over to squeeze May’s knee. “I know you do.”

May swallowed and shook her head, staring forward. “No, Mom. I don't.”

Athena opened her mouth to respond, turning slightly toward May. That was when she saw it. A car cutting across lanes. Too fast. Too close.

Her eyes widened. The gasp that left her chest was pure instinct.

There was no time to swerve.

The impact came hard and brutal, metal crushing inward on the passenger side. The sound was explosive, filling the car with the violent screech of twisting steel.

The windshield fractured instantly, cracks racing across the glass. The passenger window shattered, spraying shards across the dashboard and seats.

May’s body jerked with the force as the car spun, tires screaming against pavement.

Athena gripped the steering wheel with both hands, fighting it as the vehicle skidded, heart pounding so loudly she could hear nothing else.

The 118 were called out to a small grease fire at Dogtown Dogs, the tacky hot dog stand that Buck had taken Eddie and Chris to after a day at the beach. He’d insisted they were the best hot dogs in the state. Eddie’s food poisoning the next day disagreed.

The team got to work fast. Hose deployed. Water on. Bobby and Hen checked inside to make sure the grease hadn’t crawled up into the vents. Chimney monitored pressure. Eddie moved where he was needed, steady and focused, the routine of it grounding.

The fire was out fairly quickly. Steam rolled out instead of smoke. The metallic ping of cooling surfaces replaced the sharp pop of flame. Santiago and Jones handled breakdown, wrapping the hose and turning off the hydrant with practiced ease.

Eddie stepped back from the curb and pulled his gloves off, tucking them into his turnout pocket. He reached for his phone without thinking about it.

As Santiago and Jones were wrapping the hose and turning off the hydrant, Hen walked towards Eddie with a smile.

“Any word on how Operation Buck Up Buck is going?” She asked with a smile.

Eddie slipped his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. He opened the family group chat with Shannon, Maddie and Buck.

“This was this morning.” He said, turning the phone to Hen, showing her the picture of Buck and Chris at the little diner Chris loved. “‘Full stack’. Then he said maybe the movies. By now, Chris has come down from a serious sugar high, and Buck is regretting his life choices.”

In the picture, Chris was grinning at the camera, glasses slightly crooked, a tall stack of pancakes in front of him drowning in syrup. Buck was beside him, smiling wide, leaning into the frame, the two of them looking genuinely happy. 

Hen and Chimney laughed.

For a brief second, Eddie felt something ease in his chest. Buck had gotten out of the house. He was trying.

“Hey, did someone leave a hydrant open?” Bobby yelled out, looking between his team.

There was a low rushing sound nearby. Not the sharp spray of water from a hydrant. Something heavier. Constant.

Eddie’s phone vibrated in his hand. He glanced down automatically. The notification filled the screen in bold emergency lettering.

Tsunami Warning. A 7.5 seaquake just off Santa Monica.

“I don't think it's a hydrant, Cap.” Eddie said, turning his phone to Bobby, whose face dropped.

Athena groaned as she moved, the world tilting slightly before settling again. A sharp ringing filled her ears, drowning out the immediate noise around her. The airbag had deployed on her side, deflated now but still heavy against her chest. The smell of burned rubber and deployed airbags hung thick in the car.

“Baby, are you okay?” She asked, reaching over to May.

Her hand trembled as she stretched across the center console. Glass crunched under her palm.

“I'm okay.” May gasped out.

Her voice shook. Tiny shards of glass clung to her hair and sweater. Her breathing came fast and shallow, but she was upright. Moving.

Athena swallowed hard and nodded once, forcing herself to focus.

She tried to open her door, throwing her shoulder into it and banging with her palm. It didn’t budge. The metal was folded inward, warped from the collision. May did the same on her side, pushing against the crushed door, grunting as she tried to force it open.

“It won't open.” May said, voice panicked.

Athena leaned across again and slammed her palm against May’s door from the inside. It barely shifted. The frame was too far gone.

Her jaw tightened. She reached forward, popping open the glove box with shaking fingers and pulling out a small hammer.

“Where'd you get that?”

Athena turned, giving May a serious expression. “Your stepfather.”

Her voice was steady now. Controlled. She lifted the sagging airbag material out of her way and angled herself toward the passenger window, which was spiderwebbed and half shattered.

“All right, shield your eyes.”

May immediately raised her arm and turned her face away.

Athena swung the hammer hard into the weakened glass. It cracked further but didn’t fully give. She hit it again. And again.

On the fourth strike, the window gave way with a sharp burst, fragments scattering outward. She used the hammer to knock away the jagged edges around the frame, brushing the remaining pieces off with the sleeve of her jacket.

She moved quickly, climbing through the opening and carefully shifting her weight onto the hood of the car that had slammed into them. The metal dipped slightly under her boots.

She straightened slowly once she was up there.

The intersection was chaos.

At least two dozen cars sat crumpled at odd angles. Some had front ends crushed. Others were spun sideways across lanes. Steam rose from several hoods. Horns blared continuously from at least three vehicles.

People were climbing out of cars where they could. Others were shouting. Some just stood frozen.

The driver of the car she was standing on, a middle-aged man with blood trickling down from his hairline, reached up instinctively to steady her.

“Careful,” he muttered.

She grabbed his forearm and stepped down from the hood with his help, landing on shaky legs but steadying quickly.

“Okay. alright-” Athena whispered to herself, grounding her breathing. She forced her shoulders back. “LAPD. Everyone okay?” She yelled out.

Heads turned toward her voice.

“Someone ran the light.” An older black woman said, holding the back of her neck. Her car door hung open, airbag deflated over the steering wheel.

Athena scanned quickly for fire. For smoke. For leaking fuel.

“Whoa, look out! Hey, back up, get away from that.”

She turned toward the shout.

An electrical pole had fallen at an angle across the intersection, one end resting on top of a sedan. The transformer at the top sparked faintly, wires hanging loose and swaying.

“Everyone, move to the side.” Athena ordered, already moving toward the danger. “Move to the side! We have a downed transformer. Steer clear of it.”

People shuffled back, some stumbling, others dragging injured passengers away from the immediate area.

“Something's wrong.” A young woman, maybe 21 at most, yelled. She was clutching her phone with both hands. “I'm on with 911, but they've got me on hold.”

Athena frowned sharply. On hold?

May slipped out of the car behind her, kneeling carefully on the hood before lowering herself down to the pavement. She looked pale but steady. She pulled her phone out with trembling fingers and stared at the screen.

Her face drained of color.

“It's a tsunami.” Athena turned and looked at her daughter. “Took out the pier.”

For a split second, everything inside Athena went still.

The pier.

She sucked in a slow breath through her nose, steadying herself. Her mind moved quickly, cataloging people.

Bobby. On shift.

May. Right here where she could see her. Harry with Michael. Maddie at dispatch. Xander with Karen. Buck. Home.

She clung to that. As far as she knew, her stepson was depressed and laid up in bed.

Athena straightened, pushing down the spike of fear that tried to claw its way up her throat. There were injured civilians in front of her. A downed transformer. A multi-car pileup in the middle of an intersection. She moved.

The 118 rigs pulled up on the freeway, not far from the Pier. Traffic had been abandoned in every direction. Cars sat at odd angles, doors left open, some still running. The ocean had swallowed whole sections of streets below, water surging through intersections like fast-moving rivers.

Quickly, the team got out of the rigs. Doors slammed. Radios crackled. The air carried the sharp scent of salt and fuel.

Hen and Chimney climbed to the top of the ladder truck straight away, boots hitting metal rungs as they hauled themselves up for a clearer vantage point. From that height, the scale of it was overwhelming. Debris floated everywhere. Pieces of rooftops. Patio furniture. Entire sections of fencing.

“One wave did all of this?” Hen asked, gawking at the destruction that stretched out for miles.

Her voice wasn’t panicked. It was stunned, trying to process the sheer amount of damage.

Below them, Bobby and Eddie were already moving toward a cluster of rescue personnel setting up near the freeway barrier.

“We already had two so far.” Said Harlan, the Rescue Leader. He spoke quickly, eyes never staying in one place for long. “Expect another four or five before it starts to recede. We're commandeering everything that'll float to supplement our Zodiacs.” He explained to Bobby as he and Eddie followed the man.

As they walked, firefighters were dragging inflatable rafts toward the edge. A small fishing boat had been pulled up onto the shoulder and was being inspected. Helicopter blades thudded somewhere overhead.

“I heard there were four firehouses in the path of this thing?”

Eddie scanned the water as he walked. The current still moved fast, carrying everything with it. Entire chunks of the boardwalk drifted between buildings.

“Yeah, they've all checked in.” Harlan confirmed. “Except for the 136. They were responding to a call at the pier when the surge hit, so- if you see any blue out there…”

The implication didn’t need to be finished.

Bobby nodded once. “We'll holler.”

His tone was controlled. Focused. Bobby and Eddie kept walking towards the small life rafts at the edge of the water.

Buck sat with his back firmly against the hose on the 136 truck, his shoulders pressed into the metal paneling. The truck rocked slightly with each shift of water beneath it. Chris was tucked tight against his side, the kid’s head resting against Buck’s chest, glasses slightly fogged from the humidity and the red elastic still holding them in place.

Buck’s chest rose and fell hard. His lungs still burned from the salt water.

“You good, Chris?” Buck panted out, his eyebrows pinched as he stroked the boy’s hair, fingers threading carefully through the damp strands.

“Yep. I took surfing lessons.” Chris said, smiling.

That caused Buck to laugh. It came out breathless and shaky, but it was real.

“Oh, well, maybe you can teach me. It’s been a while.” Buck chucked out, before he sighed.

He tilted his head back briefly against the truck, eyes squeezing shut for a second as a sharp pulse of pain ran through his leg. He swallowed it down. Not now.

He leaned forward again and took Chris’ face in his hands for a second, thumbs brushing lightly over the boy’s cheeks.

“All right, I'm gonna take a look around and see what I see.” He said, letting the kid go.

He pushed himself up, half standing at first to test his balance. The truck shifted again under him. He steadied himself with one hand against the hose and scanned the horizon. Debris. Destruction. Devastation.

Cars wedged against each other at unnatural angles. Pieces of the pier floating where streets should be. People clinging to anything vertical.

He looked down at Chris with a forced smile. “I guess we're gonna have to hang out here a little longer.”

“We have a firetruck.” Chris smiled, looking at his hands.

“Yeah, we do.” Buck laughed out softly.

Even now, Chris found something solid to hold onto. Buck felt something tighten in his chest. Even in the darkest moments, Chris was a light in Buck’s life. He couldn’t believe that he was so lucky to be a part of the kid’s life. That he got the privilege to watch the boy grow up.

“Help!” A woman's voice called out from the water. “Help me! Help!” She kept yelling.

Buck’s head snapped toward the sound.

He spotted her. Not far from where Chris had been clinging earlier. Hanging from a pole that looked like it wouldn’t hold much longer.

“I'll help! Yeah!” Buck yelled back. “I-I'm gonna come for you!”

He crouched back down to Chris’ level immediately, both hands on the kid’s shoulders.

“Chris, um, I-I need you to sit right here for me. You promise me?”

“Yeah.” Chris said with a nod.

“Okay, right here. Right here.” Buck reminded, pointing at the spot on the truck.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Chris nodded again, eyes serious now.

“Help! Help!” The woman continued screaming. “Help! Help me! Help!”

Buck moved fast.

He grabbed the ladder from the truck, muscles straining as he flipped it outward. The metal clanged loudly as it landed across the roof of a nearby car. He yanked the hose loose, looping it over his shoulder.

Each step down the ladder sent a flare of pain through his leg, but he didn’t slow. He stepped onto the roof of the first car, the metal dipping under his weight.

He grabbed at a nearby tree branch to steady himself and shifted onto the hood of another car, then onto the roof of the next.

Water surged around his calves as he dropped back into it, gripping the hose tight with both hands. He hauled himself onto yet another car, pressing his face briefly against the cracked windshield as the pain in his leg shot hot and sharp up his thigh.

“I’m in here!” A man’s voice sounded below Buck.

Buck turned, looking down through the shattered windshield. A man sat trapped inside the vehicle he was standing on.

“Help, I can't get out. I can't get out.”

Buck’s breath came fast. He forced himself to meet the man’s eyes.

“I-I'll help you. I will come back.” Buck said, panting. “Okay, I promise you.”

“Help!” The woman screamed again. Buck made the call in a split second.

He dove off the car and into the water fully, keeping a tight grip on the hose. The cold hit him again, stealing his breath, but he pushed through it.

He swam toward the woman, angling himself toward a palm tree that still stood rooted in place. He wrapped the hose around the trunk twice, tying it tight enough that it would hold.

“Hey! Hey, you can let go!” Buck yelled across the water. “Okay? I need you to let go. You can do it!”

The woman hesitated, knuckles white on the pole.

“Okay, you're doing great.”

She let go.

She was immediately swept sideways, but she grabbed for the hose like he’d told her.

Buck let go of the tree and started using the hose to move safely back toward the truck, pulling himself hand over hand, closer to her.

“You're doing great!”

She was crying now, panic written all over her face, water slapping against her shoulders.

“I’m right here, I’m right here!” He said, forcing steadiness into his voice even though he was gasping for air. “Gimme that hand.”

She reached.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her in hard, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to keep her steady.

“Okay, okay, okay. You did so great. You did so great!” He praised, breath ragged.

He guided her carefully back toward the ladder truck, using the hose to anchor them both.

“Just climb up. You're okay. You got it.”

She scrambled up the ladder with shaking hands.

Buck circled around the truck, holding onto the side rail so he could reach Chris again.

“Buck.” Chris said, pointing his hand.

“What?”

“Buck look. People.”

Buck followed his finger.

“Please!” A man yelled out.

A group of people were clustered farther out, struggling against the current, grabbing at whatever floated near them.

Buck turned to the woman he’d just saved. “Will you watch him?”

“Yeah.” She said with a quick nod, still shaking but steady enough. 

“Okay.” Buck whispered to himself.

He closed his eyes for half a second. Drew in one breath. Then another. He gave one last glance to Christopher.

Then he pushed off again, forcing his body back into the water as the screams for help continued, one by one reaching for the hose.

Maddie took a brief 10 minute break after her third call where she had to listen to the caller succumb to the water of the tsunami. She hadn’t meant to count, but she had. Third.

She pulled her headset off slowly, her hands shaking just enough that she had to steady them against the desk. Around her, the call center buzzed with noise. Voices layered over one another. Keyboards clacking. The constant hum of incoming lines.

She pushed back from her station and walked toward the break area on legs that felt heavier than they should.

In the small break room, she braced her palms against the counter and lowered her head for a second. The sound of water sloshing through a car speaker still echoed in her ears. The man’s breathing. The way it had gotten shallower.

She swallowed hard and grabbed her phone.

She shot off a text to Buck, telling him she was glad he was tucked up at home with Chris.

The message sent. She stared at it for a second longer than necessary.

Then she called Karen to check in on Xander.

Karen picked up on the second ring. Her voice was steady. Calm. In control, like always.

Apparently, Karen had managed to hide most of the news from Denny and Xander, and Maddie couldn’t have been more grateful. Her baby had not long gotten back to his semi-normal self after everything and she’d hate for something like that to set the boy back.

After she spoke to Xander, who was talking her ear off about the homemade Pizza Karen was making with them, she finally let herself smile.

He described the cheese in great detail. The way Denny had tried to sneak pepperoni before it was cooked. How Karen said they were going to make it “fancy” with basil.

Maddie leaned back against the counter, eyes closed, listening to her son’s excitement. Letting it anchor her.

When she hung up, the quiet felt heavier.

She stepped out of the break room and paused by one of the mounted TVs. The news was running live aerial footage of the coast. Entire blocks under water. Boats tossed inland like toys.

It was detailing how an 8.9 seaquake off the coast of Alaska caused the worst tsunami along the California coast in more than 50 years.

Maddie hated this.

The earthquake on her first day was one thing. That had been chaos. But it had been fast. Immediate. Loud.

This was a completely different beast. Slow. Relentless. Drowning.

“No. The line's still open.” She heard Linda argue with Sue. “Protocol says we do not hang up. Not until help arrives or they're safe.”

Maddie turned.

“You said he was in a flooding car.” Sue argued back, her voice soft.

Linda sat rigid at her station, headset still on, eyes locked forward like if she blinked she’d miss something.

Linda sighed.

“It's been over 20 minutes since he said anything, Linda.” Sue tried to reason.

The rest of the room seemed to dim around them.

“The line's still open.” Linda said, her voice breaking. “I-I can't-”

Sue gave her a sympathetic look, before reaching out and pressing a button on Linda’s keyboard, disconnecting the call. The dial tone buzzed in Linda’s ear.

Linda flinched at the sound like it physically hurt.

“It's okay. Go take a break.” Sue said, patting Linda’s shoulder.

Linda reluctantly stood and made her way to the break room, eyes unfocused, shoulders slumped.

Sue made her way across to Maddie.

“I never thought I'd see you disconnect a call.” Maddie said, her voice sad, eyebrows raised.

Sue sighed. “Water-resistant phones. They can keep working for 30 minutes after being submerged. Ain't technology great?”

Maddie looked down, her face soft.

She imagined a phone floating somewhere under murky water, still transmitting silence.

“How are you holding up?”

“I have both feet on dry land. I'll be okay. Checked on Xander, he’s great. Doesn’t know a thing that’s happening, thank God!”

She forced steadiness into her tone. She needed it to be true.

“Good. This day's not over.” Sue said, motioning Maddie to follow her.

The floor felt louder now. More frantic.

“Okay, what can I do?” Maddie asked, following closely behind her boss.

“You used to run an emergency room, right?” Sue questioned. “Well, that's what this is. I need you on the floor with me doing triage.”

Maddie nodded once. The shift happened behind her eyes. Grief pushed aside. Focus sliding into place.

“Okay, but we have a system in place to prioritize the calls.”

“Well, not the calls, I need you to triage them.” Sue said, looking at the other operators. “Make sure they're doing okay. Identify where we can help and be brutal about where we can't. Be the bad guy if you have to.”

“Like you just did with Linda.”

Sue nodded.

“Today's gonna take a toll... on all of us.” Sue crossed her arms, turning and walking away.

Maddie stood there for half a second longer. She didn’t let herself think about water. She got to work.

The 118 were in the life rafts, sailing across the water-covered streets of Santa Monica. Bobby and Eddie in the first boat, Chimney and Hen in the other. 

“Okay, let's work fast, people, in between waves.” Bobby ordered. 

One of the rescue workers attached a machine around a victims’ wrist, which started beeping instantly, indicating he’d been found and it was too late.  

“Help!” A woman’s voice came from a little bit away. “Help! Please! Help!” 

The team looked around, seeing a boat in the middle of the street, crashed against two cars and a bike. The Charmed Life was printed on the side of the boat. 

The woman was in her 60s maybe, dressed in a wedding dress, waving at the boats.

“Cap!” Chimney called back.

Bobby nodded, pointing. “I see it, Chim.”

“Help!” The woman screamed again. 

“I can’t move my arms!” One of the men of the boat complained.

“Don't move, sir.” Chim said, holding up his hand. “We'll be right there.” 

“Be careful, guys. Unstable.” Bobby yelled across, as Eddie got ready to climb off the raft to join Hen and Chimney.

“My fiance and my son are inside. Please hurry!” The woman cried. 

“I'll check you out, sir.” Chimney said, stopping beside who he assumed was the captain of the boat.

“Gentlemen, can you hear me?” Eddie yelled as he stepped below deck. 

“Yes!” One of the men groaned out.

“Antenna from the radio station pierced the hull.” Eddie surmised, turning to Bobby who looked on with wide eyes. 

“Then it pierced them.” Hen added as one of the men, the younger of the two, let out a pained cry. “They're skewered together from the shoulder... through the abdomen... to the bottom of the boat.”

“And this boat is taking on water.” 

“We need a plan, Cap, and we need it fast.” Eddie said, turning to Bobby again, his face serious.

“Normally, we'd travel them both with object intact, and let the ER sort it out.” Hen said, following Bobby outside the boat.

“Except for this case, the object is a radio station antenna and a boat.We need to separate them. Can we do that?” Bobby asked.

“It seems to have missed the kid's heart and lungs.I'm not sure about the stepdad.” Hen answered quickly, looking back into the boat. “He's got about a half dozen vital organs it could've hit, So as long as we keep both pieces in them, maybe.”

“That's not a no.” 

“Adele, please.” The older man croaked out. 

“No, I'm not leaving you-” His fiance argued. “either of you.” 

“Whatever happened to love, honor and obey?” He laughed out, choking on his laugh.

“I never said "obey."” Adele joked. “We didn't even finish the ceremony.”

Eddie got tape between his teeth as he worked to open the gauze package.

“It's okay, Mom. Please, just go.” The younger man said, his voice stronger than his stepfather’s was.

“He's right, ma'am. Best thing to do now is just let us work.” Bobby said, stepping back inside.

“I love you both so much.” Adele said, looking at the men in her life, as she took Eddie’s hand to help stand up.

“I got you, I got you.” Hen said, helping Adele off. “Let's get you to the boat.”

“Okay, we have a plan.” Bobby started.

“Only one plan... you save this kid.” Chuck, the fiance said, his voice low.

“What? No, Chuck, you're already insufferable.Don't be insufferable and magnanimous. I can't take it.” The younger man cried out in pain.

“She is the love of my life.” Chuck said, then pointed at the young man. “He is the love of hers. Save...save him.” 

“Our job is to save you both, so that's what we're gonna do.” Bobby said, without missing a beat. “Cover 'em up, Eddie.” 

Quickly, Eddie covered both men with a blanket, while Bobby quickly started using the saws to try and cut through the antenna. Soon enough, the pole was being pulled free by Chimney from above.

“All right. Eddie, Hen, I need you to lift him up. And Jason, if you can get on your knees at all, I need you to try, okay?” Bobby ordered, his voice calm as always. 

“Careful, it's gonna hurt.” Hen added. 

“Turn your head away.” Bobby said, as the saw started grinding again.

Jason, the younger man, let out cries of pain as the sparks flew around them.

“Okay. Easy!” Hen said, as she and Eddie started slowly raising Jason to his knees.

“Let's get him up.” Bobby said, as the rescue team quickly loaded Jason to a backboard, and raised him out of the deck.

“Abdomen's distended and warm.” Hen said, feeling Chuck’s wounds. “I'm pretty sure his spleen's ruptured. He'll probably lose too much blood if we pull him off this.”

“We'll have to cut from underneath.” 

“Underneath what?” Eddie questioned with a raised brow. 

Bobby quickly then got into scuba gear above deck.

“Always did love Jacques Cousteau as a kid.” Chimney said, looking at Bobby with a smirk.

“You and me, both. Buck and Maddie not so much.” *

He then dropped backwards under the water, swimming below where he knew the team were above.

“Cap's in the water.” Chimney said, rushing to Hen and Eddie.

Less than a minute later, Bobby’s voice sounded over the comms.

“Chimney, you seeing this?” 

Chimney turned, seeing the water rushing back towards them.

“We got another surge!” Chimney yelled. Hen and Eddie quickly tried to raise Chuck’s head to stop him from potentially drowning. 

“This is a problem.” Hen yelled back.

Athena helped people out of their cars, moving quickly from vehicle to vehicle, her hands steady even though her heart was pounding. She pulled one man out through a half-crushed door, supporting him under the arm as blood trickled down from a cut along his hairline. She guided him toward higher ground near the sidewalk, scanning constantly for leaking fuel, smoke, anything that could turn the crash site into something worse.

“Sit down right there. Keep pressure on that,” she told him firmly, pressing his hand back to his own head before moving on.

“Hey, you said you were a cop. Why can't you take a report?” One of the jerks in the street said, approaching her as she led a man with a head injury to safety.

Athena didn’t slow.

“Sir, do I look like I'm on duty?”

She gestured down at herself briefly. No uniform. No badge on display. Just torn clothing, glass in her hair, and blood on her sleeve that wasn’t hers.

“Well, can you get someone down here who is?” The man snarked. “Her insurance needs to pay for this.” He said, pointing at the elderly woman following him.

The older woman looked shaken, her hands trembling around her purse strap.

“What are you talking about?”

“You rear-ended me!”

“It's a pile-up!”

The argument swelled, drawing attention at the worst possible time.

“People, people!” Athena called out, her voice commanding. “There's some real trouble down by the beach. Y'all waiting for help to come? It's already here. And it's us.”

The authority in her tone cut through the noise.

She turned and glared at the jerk, eyes sharp enough to stop him mid-sentence, before turning back to the crowd.

“Check in with your neighbor. See if anyone needs help. We're all we've got right now.”

The shift was immediate. People began looking at one another instead of arguing.

Athena didn’t wait for more. She moved again, jogging from car to car, peering through windows, checking back seats, shouting to anyone who might be unconscious.

That was when she saw it.

A red van on its side, metal crumpled inward.

She made a beeline for it.

“Hey.” She said as she got to the driver’s window. “What's your name?”

“Vicky.” The woman said, holding something to her neck. Her voice was thin. Pale. Sweat slicked her face. “All right, Vicky, can you move?”

“Yeah.” Vicky said weakly. “Just not out of here. My leg is pinned, and I don't know how much longer I can keep the pressure on this.”

She pulled the scarf back, revealing a deep, jagged wound along her neck, blood soaking the fabric.

“Okay, okay. The blood's not pumping out of the wound. I think that's a good thing. Just hold it there another second.” Athena said, holding the scarf back to Vicky’s neck.

Her fingers pressed firmly, controlled. She leaned in close, assessing breathing, color, responsiveness.

Athena moved slightly from the van, looking around.

“May!” She yelled, drawing her daughter’s attention. “Come on, I need your help!”

May climbed down from the hood of the car she was standing on and ran to her Mom’s side, her sneakers slipping slightly on wet pavement.

“Come here.” Athena instructed. “I need you to put pressure on this while I go get the first aid kit.”

“Mom, I-I-” May stuttered.

Her eyes locked on the blood. On the wound. On the reality of it.

“Just for a minute.”

May closed her eyes tight for a split second, then forced them open again. She held her hand out, letting Athena guide it into place against Vicky’s neck.

“Okay. May. May! Look at me.” Athena snapped, turning to her daughter. “Now is not the time for you to be frightened. So put your hand here and hold it. Come on.”

May swallowed hard and nodded.

She pressed her hand fully against the wound, fingers slick almost instantly.

“Not too much pressure. Okay.” Athena said, her voice calm. “I'll be right back.”

And with that, Athena was out of the van and running.

May stayed where she was, breath shaking, palm warm and wet beneath her fingers.

As Athena ran for the first aid kit in the trunk of her car, she didn’t notice the drainage starting to overflow from the stormdrain near the curb. Water pooled and crept outward, thin at first.

She tried the trunk. It didn’t open. She yanked harder. Nothing.Her jaw tightened. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the small hammer again, bringing it down hard on the back windshield. The glass shattered inward with a loud crack. She cleared it quickly and reached inside, grabbing the larger than average first aid kit from the trunk.

Behind her, the water from the stormdrain began to spread faster.

“Your name's May?” Vicky asked, her voice ragged. “I'm Vicky.”

“Hi.” May said awkwardly, not looking at Vicky fully. She kept her focus on her hand placement.

“Did I hear someone say there was a tsunami, or... am I dreaming?”

“There was.” May said with an awkward nod.

“Wow.”

“Sewer's backing up.” A large bearded man called out from near the curb.

“It's just spillover.” Athena said, though her attention was drawn.

She stepped onto the bed of a nearby truck for a better view.

From that height she saw it clearly.

The downed powerlines. Water creeping closer.

The lines crackled faintly, small arcs dancing where they touched metal.

“I want that report!” The jerk from earlier snapped at the elderly woman, still focused on the wrong thing.

“Officer!” The man yelled, turning to Athena, about to step off the curb.

“Sir!” Athena screamed, holding her hands up.

“Officer!” The man repeated, stepping off the curb and into the water below.

The reaction was instant. Electricity sizzled and zapped. The man jerked violently, foam pouring from his mouth as he fell to the ground, convulsing as the current ran through him. The smell of burning filled the air. People screamed.

“…unusual, right?” Vicky asked weakly from inside the van, her head starting to tilt.

“Oh, God!” May said as Vicky’s head fell against the window. “Oh, my God. Mom! Mom!”

May instinctively started to shift her weight, panic taking over.

“May! May! No, stop!” Athena yelled, holding her hand up sharply.

She couldn’t move. Not yet. Not with live electricity in the water.

“Go back into that van until I tell you to come out.” Athena instructed.

The tone cut through everything. May had rarely heard the tone her mother was using, but she knew it was one that was not the tone of Sergeant Athena Grant. It was the one of Athena Grant, Mother.

“Do you hear me?”

May nodded quickly, eyes wide, and slipped fully back into the van, careful not to touch the water pooling outside.

She climbed into the front seat and placed her hand back on Vicky’s neck.

“Oh, God. Vicky, come on.” She said, shaking Vicky slightly. ”Okay.”

“I'm really sorry about this.” Vicky said, her eyebrows threading together.

“You're fine. You're gonna be fine.” May said, reassuringly, using her best Bobby Nash voice.

Athena stood rigid on the truck bed, first aid kit in hand, scanning for something insulated. Something dry. Anything she could use to reach them without stepping into electrified water. 

Her teeth clenched as she calculated distance, depth, and risk. Her daughter was in that van.

Bobby swam below the surface of the water, as quickly as he could. The current tugged at him, pushing him sideways every few strokes. Debris drifted past in cloudy water, visibility barely a few feet in front of his face. He kept one hand out in front of him, the other cutting through the water with strong, deliberate pulls.

Above him, the hull of the boat loomed dark and solid. The antenna line had wrapped tight around a submerged obstruction and was dragging them off position. If he didn’t clear it, the surge would do it for him. And not gently.

His lungs were already burning.

“Water's coming faster, Cap!” Eddie radioed down to him.

Even through the water, Bobby could hear the urgency in Eddie’s voice.

“Copy that, Eddie.” Bobby said, forcing his breathing steady as he reached the tangled line. “I'll bang three times on the hull when it's done.”

He wrapped one arm around the metal support to brace himself and worked the line loose with the other hand, fingers numbing in the cold.

Up above, the boat rocked hard with the pull of the current.

On deck, Eddie had Chuck’s head cradled in his hands.

“Chuck? Can you hear me?” Eddie asked, holding Chuck’s face, pressing his fingers to Chuck’s neck.

His thumb searched for something. Anything.

He leaned his ear close to Chuck’s mouth, listening past the slap of water and the distant screams around them. He turned to Hen with a serious expression. “He's not breathing. And I’ve lost his pulse”

Hen’s jaw tightened. She looked down at the deck. Then at the waterline. Then back at Chuck.

“We gotta do CPR underwater.” Hen said, earning a terrified look from Eddie.

“CPR underwater?” He repeated.

His voice cracked just slightly. It wasn’t fear of the water. It was the math. The odds.

“We can't do compressions unless he's flat.”

“How's he gonna get air?”

“He's not breathing anyway.” Hen argued. “It's just to keep him from drowning. At least for a minute. There's a scuba mask over there. Grab it, put it on him.”

The boat lurched again. Eddie pulled his mouth into a tight line, decision made. He reached across the deck, fingers fumbling for the mask among scattered gear.

Quickly, he got the mask onto Chuck, securing the straps tightly around his head, pressing it flush to his face.

“Three, two, one.” Hen counted.

Both Hen and Eddie lowered Chuck under the water. The cold shock hit immediately.

They positioned him flat beneath the surface, bracing their feet against the side of the boat to stabilize themselves. Hen began compressions, strong and rhythmic even in resistance.

Eddie watched the chest, then took over when she surfaced for air. Both worked quickly to do CPR on Chuck, but kept having to come back up for air, gasping, then diving back down. The water churned harder around them.

“Nothing.” Eddie said, the water dripping down his nose as he pulled himself up again.

Hen dove back down. They kept trying. Switching positions. Counting. Pushing. Diving.

Above them, the dull thud of metal echoed faintly through the hull.

Bobby.

Three dull bangs hit the bottom of the hull, then Bobby’s voice came through the radio. “Eddie, antenna is clear.”

Eddie’s head snapped up.

He felt it under his fingers.

“I got a pulse!” Eddie yelled, pulling himself up. “Bring him up!”

Relief flooded through him so fast it almost made him dizzy.

Hen and Eddie worked together to bring Chuck out of the water, hauling him carefully onto the deck. Water poured off his clothes in sheets.

Eddie stripped the scuba mask from Chuck’s face. Chuck sputtered weakly, a breath stuttering into his lungs.

Eddie gave Chuck a relieved smile. “There we go. Welcome back, Chuck.”

The tension broke out of him in a sharp laugh. Relief and disbelief rolled into one.

He reached over, grabbing Hen’s shoulder. “Oh, hell of a save, Hen. Hell of a save.”

“I can't believe it worked.” Hen said, with a relieved smile on her own face.

“Bring in that backboard!” Eddie yelled out to Chimney.

Chimney was already moving, hauling it across the slick deck.

“Can't believe it worked.” Hen repeated, shaking her head slightly as Chuck blinked up at them, dazed but conscious.

They slid the board beneath him carefully, securing straps tight.

As the team got Chuck loaded onto the life raft, Chimney yelled across to Bobby. “Cap!” Command is asking for available hands down at the Pier.”

The word hit like a spark. Bobby hauled himself fully back onto the boat, water streaming off him, breath steady despite the swim.

“Okay, Chim, Hen, you transport the patients.” Bobby instructed.

“Copy that.” Chimney said with a nod.

He and Hen climbed down onto the life raft, stabilizing it as they settled Chuck and the others into place.

“Eddie, you're with me.”

“Copy that.” Hen and Eddie said in unison.

Eddie grabbed fresh rope, eyes already scanning toward the shoreline.

“We'll regroup at the staging area.” Bobby said, as Hen climbed the steps off the boat, onto the life raft with Chimney and their patients, while Eddie got onto the boat with Bobby.

The boat engine roared to life again. And they turned toward the pier.

“I got 911, finally.” The girl from earlier called over to Athena, reaching her phone across to the Sergeant.

The girl’s hands were shaking so badly she nearly dropped it. Athena grabbed the phone mid-air and pressed it to her ear, turning her body slightly away from the rising water so she could hear.

“This is Athena Grant, LAPD.” Athena said quickly.

Her voice was clipped and all business, but her eyes were still tracking the sparking power lines and the water creeping closer to the curb.

There was some scrambling at the other end of the phone before she heard it. 

“Athena?” Maddie’s voice came through the receiver.

The familiarity of it hit Athena harder than she expected.

“Maddie, thank god it’s you!” Athena said with relief. “I'm at the intersection of Brockton and Wilshire There's a multi-car pile-up with serious injuries. We got water in the street and a downed transformer. I need a DWP crew right now, Maddie!”

She paced as she spoke, scanning the scene, counting bodies in her head, calculating risk.

Maddie went silent for a second. In the background, Athena could hear overlapping voices, phones ringing, someone calling out an address.

“Athena, All DWP crews are engaged. The power's not out in your area.”

“I know the power is not out. That's the problem.” Athena barked, running her hand down her jaw. “Maddie, I got folks out here dying in the street.”

Across from her, the man who had stepped into the water lay frighteningly still. People hovered at a distance, too afraid to approach.

“Nearest DWP crew is at Rose and Granville.” Maddie said after a few seconds. “They can be there within the hour. Maybe less.” 

An hour. Athena closed her eyes briefly.

“That's not gonna work Maddie.” Athena sighed. “We got a woman bleeding out here. May’s currently putting pressure on her wound.”

“May?”

“Yes. So please Maddie, if you can work that Nash magic, I’d really appreciate it.” Athena said, trying to sound calm. “I’m sure your sister would too.”

Inside Vicky’s truck, May continued holding pressure against the wound on Vicky’s neck. Her hand was slick now, hoodie sleeve darkening where she’d pulled it down over her fingers.

Vicky began to slouch and sag.

“No, no, no. Don't lie down. No, no, don't lie down.” May said quickly, forcing Vicky’s head back up. “Come on.”

“Stay on hold.” Athena yelled, handing the phone back to the girl who owned the phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Jacobs.”

She pulled her own phone from her pocket with wet fingers and dialed fast.

“Yeah?” The voice said through her phone.

“This is Athena. I need you to find me a black and white. The closest thing you got to Rose and Granville.”

Her voice didn’t waver. It couldn’t.

Inside the van, May watched Athena outside like a hawk, like if she blinked something terrible would happen. She kept her palm firm against Vicky’s neck.

“May. It's okay.”

Vicky’s eyes rolled back in her head, her body going slack.

“No, no! But-- No, you have to sit up.” May said, trying to force Vicky upright. “There was less blood when you were sitting up. Come on.”

“It's okay.” Vicky said, weakly.

“Stop saying that!” May snapped. “It's not okay. It's not. Help is coming. My mom's out there. She'll figure something out. Just keep your head up. Come on.”

Her voice cracked at the end, but she didn’t loosen her grip.

“Keep my head up.” Vicky repeated faintly.

“Keep your head up.” May said again, pulling her white hoodie over her head and down to her hand that was firmly on Vicky’s neck wound. “Come on, Vicky, you can. Okay, you're gonna stay awake, and you're gonna stay alive.”

“I need to rest.” Vicky said, her head jostling to and fro.

“I don't give a damn.” May said quickly. “I'm sure there are people who love you, who expect you to make it home to them. Okay, no offense, but I never wanna have to meet them and tell them how you died in my arms.”

Her voice wobbled but she kept going.

May paused, her eyebrows knitting together as her eyes went soft. “I'm 17 years old. You're not gonna traumatize me like that, got it?”

A single tear rolled down Vicky’s cheek.

“Nobody in this car's dying. Not today.”

“You're one tough cookie, you know that?” Vicky said weakly, trying to smile at May.

May gave her a soft half-smile back, even as her own eyes filled.

Outside, sirens finally cut through the chaos.

Within a few minutes, a police cruiser pulled up a few yards from where the chaos was unfolding. Tires screeched slightly as it stopped.

Athena rushed toward it before it had fully settled.

“You got someone trapped in a car?” The DWP operator asked, jumping out with equipment already in hand.

“Yeah, two. I got two someones.” Athena said, pointing at the van.

The operator ran toward the power box, boots splashing through shallow water. Another officer moved to help manage the crowd.

Within a minute, the operator managed to get to the power box and turned off the power. The crackling stopped. The air shifted.

“We're clear.” He said, turning to Athena with a nod, as more sirens wailed as the fire department rolled in, their horns blaring.

Relief hit Athena so hard she almost staggered. She rushed back to the van, climbing up to the passenger side.

“May, I'm here.” She said, getting to the passenger side door.

What she saw, she wasn’t expecting.

Vicky lay across May’s lap, May’s hand cradling Vicky’s head now instead of pressing down. May’s other hand still hovered near the wound out of habit. Tears streaked the 17 year old’s face as she stared down at nothing in particular.

“I tried to keep her awake.” May said, her voice sounding distant. “I really tried, Mom.”

Athena nodded, stepping closer, holding her hand out to her daughter.

“Come on.” Athena said, as LAFD rushed to the side of the car. “Come on.”

May took Athena’s hand. It felt like she was moving underwater as she climbed out of the van.

May felt like everything was moving in slow motion as she and Athena walked away from the van. Paramedics swarmed past them. Equipment clattered. Voices overlapped.

“We've got a pulse.” The voice of the female paramedic sounded as they pulled Vicky from the van.

“Okay, let's go, let's go.”

May turned on the spot so fast she nearly stumbled, rushing back toward her mother.

“She's alive?” May asked in disbelief.

“Yes, baby. She was alive because you kept her alive.”

The words landed. May broke. The sobs tore out of her chest, loud and uncontrollable, like they’d been waiting for permission.

“Hey, hey. Hey! Whoo!” Athena said, spinning her daughter towards her, hands on May’s arms.

“I was so scared.” May cried out.

“Of course you were.” Athena said with a proud smile on her face. “But you did good. Just like I knew you would.”

“I'm not you, Mom.”

Athena’s face softened. “Well, I wasn't always me, either. It took me a minute to get here.”

May let out a wet laugh through her tears.

“You'll get there.”

Athena wrapped her arms around May’s back, pulling her daughter into a tight hug, holding her steady while the chaos carried on around them.

Maddie continued walking around the call center, headset hanging loose around her neck for the moment, one hand resting lightly on the backs of chairs as she moved from station to station. The room felt tighter than usual, like the walls had inched inward. Every operator sat forward, eyes locked on screens, voices controlled but strained.

She stopped behind one dispatcher whose hands were shaking and squeezed her shoulder gently before moving on. A small nod. A quiet smile. The kind that said I see you without disrupting the call.

She hated that Sue had asked her to do this. Hated being the one who had to decide where resources went and where they didn’t. But her people needed her and she knew she could do it. If she kept moving, kept thinking, she wouldn’t have to sit with the voices she’d heard earlier.

She spotted Linda walking out of the break room, eyes red but chin lifted, and made a beeline for her.

“Hey, you doing okay?”

Linda inhaled slowly before answering.

“Yep, still people out there who need our help,” Linda said with a sad smile. “so that's what I'm gonna do.”

Maddie studied her for a second, weighing whether to push. She didn’t.

“I think Ann needs a break.”

Linda nodded once, understanding immediately, and veered toward Ann’s station without another word.

Across the floor, the operator she’d taken the Athena call over from waved her down urgently.

“Code Three. Tension pneumo.” He called across. “I sent the ambulance to St. Mary's in Culver, but they're telling me they're tapped out.”

Maddie hurried over, leaning over his shoulder to look at the screen. The patient’s vitals blinked red.

“Okay, and the three closest hospitals are flooded.” Maddie said, narrowing her eyes as she mentally mapped it. “What about UCLA?”

“They just asked me to reroute three calls.”

She exhaled sharply through her nose.

“Playa Vista's gonna be your best bet.”

He nodded and began typing quickly.

Before she could move away, her own phone started buzzing on the desk. The operator handed it to her.

“Hi, Chimney. You guys okay?”

“Yeah, we're all fine, but I'm hoping you can help me cut through some red tape.” Chimney’s voice came through, sounding frustrated. There was background noise behind him. Wind. Water. “We keep pulling Level Ones out of the water and we have no place to send 'em.”

Maddie started walking again, pacing now, her free hand gesturing even though he couldn’t see her.

“We're sending victims to every dry hospital we can find.” Maddie said, throwing her hands up as she walked down the floor. “We have a system in place.”

“Well, whoever's in charge of that system is doing a terrible job.”

She stopped walking.

“That would be me.” She said, tilting her head, narrowing her eyes.

There was a beat of silence.

“A terribly good job under extremely difficult circumstances.” Chimney said after a beat. “So, what, the hospitals recall all their staff?”

She huffed a small breath that might have been a laugh.

“It's not about staff. They are flooded with staff.” Maddie said as she walked quickly into the break room, closing the door halfway for a little quiet. “It's about beds and space.”

She looked down at a laminated map taped to the wall. Flood zones marked in red. Hospital locations circled.

She sighed. “What we need is a field hospital.”

“A triage, closer to the water. Stabilize and move 'em inland as beds open up.” Chimney added immediately.

Maddie’s eyes sharpened.

“Wait. The VA hospital on Sawtelle, it's not far from where you are now and it's out of the flood zone.” Maddie said, looking at the map on the table.

“Why aren't we sending patients there now?”

“Because it was decommissioned two months ago.” Maddie smiled despite herself. Her brain felt like it was firing on all cylinders now.

“It'll be totally empty.”

“Right.”

“Right.” Maddie could hear Chimney’s smile through the phone. “See, I told you you were doing a great job.”

“Uh-huh. I'll talk to Sue and see if we can make this happen.” Maddie said with a smirk, already turning toward the door.

“Okay, sounds good. Oh... one other thing, how are you?”

The question slowed her for half a second.

“Honestly?” Maddie asked. “Happy to hear your voice. After I heard Xander’s voice an hour ago. And I’m weirdly grateful that my brother has a serious blood clot condition and is no doubt laid up at home with Chris and is nowhere near this nightmare. Is that wrong?”

She leaned her head back against the wall as she said it. The admission felt ugly and honest all at once.

“Not at all.” Chimney laughed out.

The sound steadied her.

“Okay. Go save some people.” She said quietly.

“You too.”

She ended the call and stood there for a second longer than she should have, staring at the map. Then she opened the break room door and stepped back into the noise, already looking for Sue.

Buck sat with his back against the cab of the ladder truck, the metal still warm from the sun despite everything. Chris sat firmly beside him, shoulder pressed to Buck’s side, staring up at him like nothing in the world was wrong. The truck rocked slightly with the movement of the water around it, but Chris didn’t seem to notice. He was focused. Present. Buck forced his breathing to steady.

“Okay, I spy, with my little eye, something that... moves people around.” Buck said with a smile, looking at the boy.

He kept his tone light, playful. Like they were in the living room. Like the world wasn’t wrecked around them.

Chris tilted his head, thinking hard.

“Um-” Chris said, thinking, as he looked down at the water. “Oh. A scooter.”

“Ah, yeah. Nice one.” Buck laughed out. “Okay, genius. Your turn.”

Chris’ smile grew wider. “I spy a shopping cart.”

Buck let out a louder laugh this time, shaking his head.

“What? No, come on.” Buck laughed out, teasing. “Hey, that's not how the game works. You’re just like your Mom! You can't just yell stuff out.”

He reached over and tickled Chris’ side lightly, careful not to jostle him too much on the unstable surface.

“But yelling stuff out is the fun part!” Chris yelled, smiling brightly.

Buck couldn’t help it. The smile took over his entire face.

“You amaze me, buddy.”

Chris turned slowly, his face contemplative now. “Why?”

The question caught Buck off guard. He studied the kid for a second.

“I got some bad news at work the other day from my Dad, and you probably noticed that I didn't wanna get out of bed for a whole week. Your Dad was saying I was starting to smell the place up.”

Chris laughed, scrunching his nose.

“But you, after the day you had, here you are, with a big smile, bustin' a gut.” Buck chuckled. “You never gave up. Even when that water was rushing over you back there. You just kept on swimming.”

Chris thought about that.

“Like Dory?” Chris said, almost phrasing it as a question.

“Yeah, like Dory.”

Buck chuckled again, softer this time.

“And not just today. You know, but every day. You never say no, you never complain. How-how do you do that?”

Chris looked down at his hands for a second.

“Well, I complained once, but it didn't work.”

Buck huffed a quiet laugh. “So what did you do?”

“Just kept on swimming.” Chris said, smiling at Buck.

“Like Dory.”

There was something about the way Chris said it. Simple. Matter-of-fact. No drama. Just fact.

Buck swallowed.

He was about to say something else when a voice from the other side of the truck cut through.

“Oh, my God, look over there. Oh.”

Another voice, closer. “Do you see that?”

“Oh, my god.”

Buck turned instinctively. His face fell. The water wasn’t just carrying wood and plastic and shattered pieces of the pier anymore. It was carrying people.

They drifted past slowly, caught in the current, limbs bumping into debris.

Buck’s stomach dropped so fast he thought he might throw up.

He forced his face to stay neutral as he turned back to Chris, grateful the kid wasn’t being the most observant in that moment.

“Uh…” Buck started, moving on his hands, shifting so he could crouch in front of Chris.

Chris beamed up at him, completely unaware.

“I-I spy, with my little eye, something that is high.”

He gently grabbed Chris under the arms and lifted him to sit on the side of the truck cab, turning him deliberately away from the water.

It wasn’t just debris anymore. It was bodies. And no 8 year old should ever have to see that.

“A street sign?”

“Uh, high-higher than that. Like, whoa-”

Buck adjusted his grip, fully turning Chris’ head upward so he was looking at the sky instead of the water.

“Up there. Big and blue.”

Buck turned his own head slightly, eyes flicking back toward the water while both hands stayed firmly on Chris’ face, thumbs resting gently along his jaw to keep him looking up.

His heart was in his stomach. He could feel it pounding against his ribs. Bodies drifted past the ladder truck, bumping softly against the side before being carried away.

He forced his focus back to the kid in front of him.

“Cloud,” Chris guessed.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it.” Buck said quickly.

His voice sounded steady. He didn’t know how.

He kept Chris’ face angled toward the sky, blocking the view with his own body as much as he could.

He couldn’t screw this up any more than he already had.

Maddie stood in the break room, staring at the bank of monitors mounted along the wall. Live news feeds rolled silently across the screens. Helicopter shots of the coastline. Red emergency banners crawling along the bottom. Maps shaded in warning colors.

She had been standing there long enough that her coffee had gone cold in her hand. She hadn’t noticed.

Her shoulders were stiff. Her headset hung loose around her neck. She felt like she’d been in the same position for days at this point, even though she knew it had only been hours.

Her mind kept moving. Beds. Ambulances. Flood zones. Triage categories. She could almost see the calls stacking in her head like files.

The break room door swung open behind her.

“Maddie, I just got off the phone with the Deputy Mayor and State Emergency Services.” Sue said, smiling as she walked towards Maddie. “Everybody's on board with the VA field hospital.”

Maddie turned quickly, hope flashing across her face before she could stop it.

“When will it be operational?” Maddie asked with a big smile.

It wasn’t just professional satisfaction. It was relief. Real relief.

Sue flipped a page on the clipboard she was carrying, scanning down a list.

“Let's see, generators and cots are being sent over now.” Sue said, signing a piece of paper on a clipboard. “And they said that we can start routing patients in an hour.”

Maddie let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Her shoulders dropped slightly.

“That's great.”

An hour. They could stabilize. They could move people. They could stop watching hospital capacity numbers blink red.

Sue looked up again, already shifting gears.

“Oh, can you call ME-Coroner and Red Cross?” Sue asked.

Maddie’s smile lingered for half a second too long before her brain caught up.

“Tell them bodybags need to be sent to the VA. 5,000 to start.”

The number landed like a weight. Maddie’s face fell. Five thousand. Her fingers tightened around the coffee cup until it dented. She stared at Sue for a second, then at the monitors behind her. The images of flooded streets took on a different meaning.

She nodded once. Professional. Controlled. She reached for her phone.

As their boat sped through the water, the engine whining as it cut through debris and surge, Eddie’s grip tightened on the side rail. The coastline was barely recognizable. Storefronts half submerged. Sections of boardwalk torn away. Cars lodged against light poles like toys tossed aside.

The boat rocked hard as it passed through a stronger current, spray hitting Eddie’s face. He wiped it away without thinking.

Then he saw it.

The ferris wheel.

It rose above the chaos like something from another world, tilted slightly, but still standing. Its bright painted gondolas were now uneven, some hanging lower than they should, others stuck at angles.

Eddie hadn’t even realised how close they’d gotten to the pier and they were practically right in the centre of it.

“You see this, Cap?” Eddie asked.

His voice had gone tight, all levity stripped out of it.

“Kinda hard not to, Eddie.” Bobby said, smirking at his son’s partner.

Even now, Bobby’s tone was steady. Grounding. 

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie muttered, looking up as the boat came to a stop beside the Ferris wheel.

Dozens of people were trapped. Some clung to the metal supports with white knuckles. Others were stuck inside the gondolas, pounding on the glass. A few were stranded on elevated platforms that hadn’t fully given way. The water below churned, slamming into the base of the structure with every surge. Eddie’s eyes scanned fast, assessing who was closest to slipping, who was in immediate danger. Then movement caught his attention off to the side.

A family was floating on a large piece of debris, maybe part of a broken concession stand. The father had one arm hooked around a bent railing, the other wrapped around a small child. A woman clung to him, soaked and shaking.

Eddie leaned over the side of the boat. He spoke to them in Spanish.

His voice was clear and firm, cutting through their panic.

They promptly answered back, the man pointing up.

His words were rushed, urgent.

“Wait, who's up there?” Bobby asked.

Eddie’s eyes followed where the man was pointing.

“La bombera.” Eddie repeated.

Up on one of the higher platforms, a firefighter in turnout gear was braced against a metal beam, trying to help a woman out of a stuck gondola. Even from below, Eddie could see she was straining, one arm locked around a child while using the other to secure someone else.

“Hey, we could use a hand up here.” A voice called from above. It was the female firefighter’s voice, and filled with frustration and anger. The kind that came from being stretched too thin.

Eddie and Bobby both looked up, spotting her more clearly now. She was wedged between two beams, trying to keep a man from slipping.

Eddie turned to Bobby with a smirk. “Fire lady.”

It was brief. Automatic. The kind of deflection that kept the edge off the fear. Bobby rolled his eyes at Eddie, before looking back up.

The ferris wheel groaned as another surge of water slammed into the base.

The boat rocked hard beneath them.

Buck sat with his back to the water, boots braced against the metal ridge of the truck, his arm wrapped firmly around Christopher’s shoulders. The kid was shaking now that the adrenaline had burned off, small tremors running through him from the cold and the soaked clothes clinging to his skin. Buck kept him tucked in close, trying to block what wind he could.

His own clothes were heavy, dragging at him. His leg throbbed in a deep, steady pulse, but he barely registered it.

“I don't know what I'm gonna tell your father.” Buck admitted out loud, pressing his face into Chris’ curls, breathing him in like that alone could anchor them both. “You know, I take you out one time and, uh... look what happens.”

The words came out rough, half a joke and half something else. Guilt sat heavy in his chest.

“You saved me.” Chris said simply, looking up at Buck. “And you saved them.”

Buck blinked, the simplicity of it catching him off guard. He looked over his shoulder at the people huddled along the truck. The woman he’d pulled in first. The others clinging to whatever solid surface they could find. Faces pale. Eyes wide.

Then he looked back at Chris.

A small smile pushed through.

“No, we did that together.” Buck said, turning fully toward him. “Me and you make a great team.” He motioned between them, poking Chris playfully with his index finger, earning a laugh from the child. The sound was thin but real.

“Give me a high five. I'm proud of you. Really.”

Chris smirked, lifting his hand and slapping Buck’s palm. The contact was solid. Warm.

Then Chris shifted, pushing himself up carefully, and wrapped his arms around Buck’s chest.

Buck didn’t hesitate. He folded in around him, pressing his face into Chris’ neck, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other steady at his shoulder.

“-Thank you, Buck.” Chris said softly.

“Thank you, Buddy.” Buck whispered back, his thumb brushing slowly over Chris’ damp hair, smoothing it back from his glasses strap.

For a second, everything narrowed to just that. The weight of him. The steady rise and fall of his breathing. Then the truck lurched. It wasn’t the small rocking they’d gotten used to. This was sharper. Harder.

Buck loosened his hold instinctively, his body shifting into alert. The metal beneath them groaned.

He let go of Chris’ hug and stood carefully, keeping one hand on Chris’ shoulder as he straightened. His balance wavered for half a second before he planted his boots wider.

He looked out toward the water. The tide was changing. The water wasn’t just slamming inward anymore. It was pulling back, dragging everything with it. The surface churned in a different direction now, debris spinning, sucked toward open ocean.

The truck rocked again, harder.

People along the side lost their footing. One slipped, barely catching a rung. Another cried out as their grip slid on wet metal.

“Hey, everybody get down!” Buck yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Get down and hold on! Hold on!”

He grabbed Chris with one arm, pulling him tight against his side, forcing him low against the metal.

A man’s voice rose above the noise.

“Help!”

Buck’s head snapped toward the sound. The man was being dragged sideways by the shifting current, fingers clawing at open air as he drifted toward the truck and then past it.

Buck didn’t think. He shoved himself forward, climbing onto the cab of the ladder truck, boots slipping on the wet surface. He dropped to his stomach and reached down as far as he could.

Their hands connected. Buck’s fingers locked around the man’s wrist.

The man’s other arm thrashed in the water, eyes wide with panic.

Buck strained, muscles screaming as he tried to haul him upward.

The truck shuddered violently as a stronger surge slammed into it from the side. Metal shrieked. Something snapped beneath them.

Buck’s grip slipped.

The man’s hand tore free from his.

Buck heard the splash behind him before he fully registered it.

A different sound. Smaller. Closer.

His stomach dropped.

He turned slowly at first, dread already crawling up his spine.

Christopher wasn’t where he had been.

The space beside the hose. The spot against the metal wall. Empty.

“Ah, ah, Christopher!” Buck yelled, the sound ripped out of him, sharp and high. He scrambled off the cab and onto the body of the truck, slipping to one knee before forcing himself upright.

He scanned frantically.

Water. Debris. Movement everywhere.

“Christopher! No!”

He moved to the edge, boots hitting the rim hard. He didn’t see him. Didn’t think.

He dove. The cold hit him like a punch. The current dragged at him instantly, spinning him sideways as he forced his eyes open against the salt and grit.

His leg flared with pain as he kicked. None of it mattered. He broke the surface just long enough to pull in air. “Christopher! Christopher!”

Chapter Text

3 Hours after the First Wave - Boston:

Shannon balanced her phone against a stack of glossy brochures as she adjusted the throw pillows on Maddie’s couch for the third time.

The Boston house was bright, staged within an inch of its life. Fresh flowers on the entry table. Scented candle burning low in the kitchen. Every light switched on to make the place feel warmer than the early spring chill outside.

She stepped back, hands on her hips, scanning the living room critically. It looked good. It would sell. Her phone buzzed.At first she ignored it, assuming it was a reminder about the open house listing. It buzzed again. And again.

With a small sigh, she picked it up.

The headline made her stomach drop.

Tsunami Warning. Major surge hits Santa Monica Pier.

Her heart stopped for a second before it started racing so fast it made her dizzy. Christopher.

Her thumb moved before her brain caught up, opening the alert, scrolling through shaky footage of water crashing over the pier. Boats thrown inland. People running.

“Oh my God,” she whispered to the empty house.

Her first thought was Christopher. Where was he supposed to be today. School. No, it was a teacher training day. Eddie had mentioned that. Carla was out of town.

Her second thought was Buck. Buck, who was home on blood thinners. Buck, who had barely been leaving the bed.

Her hands started shaking as she hit Buck’s name.

It rang. And rang. And rang.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she muttered, pacing across the polished hardwood floors. “Please be at home. Please be at home.”

Voicemail.

She didn’t leave one. She hung up and called again immediately, pressing the phone tighter to her ear as if that would make it connect faster. Nothing.

Her breathing turned shallow. She forced herself to think.

Eddie.

She called him next. It went straight to voicemail. She closed her eyes briefly. Of course it did. If there was a tsunami in Santa Monica, Eddie would be working. He would not be near his phone.

Her chest tightened.

She switched to Maddie. The line clicked over after two rings.

“Shan?” Maddie’s voice was steady, but there was noise behind her. Controlled chaos.

“Mads, please tell me they’re at home,” Shannon blurted out. “Please tell me Buck and Chris are at home.”

There was the faint sound of typing in the background, someone calling out codes.

“I’m pretty sure Buck’s at home,” Maddie said. “Last I knew, he was laid up with Chris. He texted earlier.”

Pretty sure. Shannon pressed her free hand against her forehead.

“There’s footage of the pier,” she said, her voice starting to crack despite her best efforts. “The pier, Maddie. I can’t get him on the phone.”

“I know,” Maddie said softly. “We’re getting slammed here. But if he was going anywhere, he would’ve told someone.”

Shannon started pacing again, heels clicking sharply against the floor.

“Can you get someone to check?” she asked, her voice smaller now. “Anyone. I won’t be able to calm down until I know they’re okay.”

She hated how helpless she sounded. She was across the country. Stuck in a staged house with a For Sale sign out front while her entire world was potentially underwater.

There was a brief pause on the line, Maddie clearly thinking while juggling ten other things.

“I’ll ask Athena to swing by,” Maddie said. “If she can’t, I’ll call Karen. She’s got Xander for the day. The Wilsons aren’t far from Buck and Eddie’s place. One of them can get eyes on the house.”

Shannon exhaled shakily.

“Thank you,” she said immediately. “Thank you.”

She moved to the front window without realizing it, staring out at the quiet Boston street. A couple walking a dog. A car passing slowly. It felt wrong that everything here was normal.

“Shan,” Maddie said gently, lowering her voice a fraction. “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

“Okay,” Shannon replied. “I’m going to keep trying him.”

“Okay.”

They hung up.

Shannon dialed Buck again.

Straight to voicemail.

She swallowed hard, forcing back the images trying to form in her head. Christopher in cold water. Buck trying to do too much on a leg that had already been through hell.

“Answer your phone,” she whispered. “Please.”

She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window, gripping the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white, waiting for it to ring back.

Buck waded through the water, it sloshing up to his mid calf with every uneven step. The current had slowed, most of the water receded now, but it was still high enough to make him brace himself every few seconds. His pants were heavy and soaked, his white t-shirt - Eddie’s white t-shirt - plastered to his skin. Salt water burned in the cuts along his face.

His voice felt wrecked. Raw. His throat burned from hours of shouting, but especially from the last forty five minutes. From the moment Christopher slipped.

The moment Chris didn’t have his undivided attention. 

His leg throbbed with every step. A deep, pulsing pain that shot up through his hip if he moved too fast. He barely registered it anymore. It was just there. Like background noise.

Pain didn’t matter. Christopher did.

“Chris! Christopher!” Buck screamed, turning in a slow circle, scanning faces, scanning debris, scanning the waterline. His brow furrowed as a sob ripped out of him before he could stop it. “Christopher!” he yelled again, his voice cracking hard on the second syllable.

His chest felt tight, like he couldn’t quite pull in enough air, but he forced himself to breathe through it.

“Christopher!” he called again, stumbling forward. “Has anyone seen a boy in the water?” He shouted at a group of survivors pushing through the shallows. “Come on. Hey! He's got curly brown hair, glasses with a little red band on them, yellow T shirt..”

His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. He wiped at them angrily with the back of his hand and moved toward a small cluster of people standing together near a bent street sign.

“Have you seen a little boy?”

“No, I'm sorry.” The girl’s voice was gentle. Apologetic.

Buck nodded once, even though it didn’t feel like his head belonged to him.

He turned away before she could see how wrecked he was.

He felt pathetic. And useless.

He was supposed to be a hero. He was supposed to keep Christopher safe. That was the one thing that mattered. How had he turned his back for even a second? How had he let the water take him?

How were Eddie and Shannon ever going to look at him again? Even when he found Chris.

He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching.

He failed them. He failed his family worse than he ever had before.

A bitter thought pushed through his panic. Maybe Margaret Buckley had been right about him all along. Maybe he was nothing but a screw up.

Buck pushed forward again, each step slower than the last. His leg protested sharply and he bowed his head for a second, biting down hard to keep the groan from escaping. He couldn’t afford to stop. Not now.

The water carried debris past him. Wood. Plastic. A backpack. He forced himself not to look too closely at the shapes floating farther out.

He had to keep going. Chris needed him.

He stopped abruptly when something caught his eye in the tangle of seaweed and broken boards near his feet.

Something small. Familiar.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

Christopher’s glasses.

They were half buried in wet seaweed, the little red elastic tangled tight around a piece of driftwood.

Buck’s eyes widened and he pushed forward too fast, pain shooting through his leg as he nearly lost his balance. He grunted, steadying himself against a tilted trash can, then crouched down as carefully as he could.

His hands shook as he reached into the mess and untangled the elastic from the seaweed. He worked it loose gently, like Christopher might somehow feel it if he was too rough. 

He freed them.

Chris needed his glasses. He couldn’t see without his glasses.

Buck stared at them in his hand for a long second. The lenses were scratched but intact. The red band was stretched but not broken.

His throat closed up. He wanted to scream. To rage. To tear the sky open.

Instead, he sucked in a shaky breath and forced himself to stay upright. He couldn’t fall apart. Not yet.

He slipped the elastic over his own head and let the glasses hang against his chest. Then he wrapped his fingers tight around the red band, gripping it like a lifeline.

He lifted his head and looked out over the wreckage again. He was going to find Christopher. Even if it killed him.

The boat came to a stop beside the Ferris wheel. Dozens of people were trapped. Some clung to the metal supports with white knuckles. Others were stuck inside the gondolas, pounding on the glass. A few were stranded on elevated platforms that hadn’t fully given way. The water below churned, slamming into the base of the structure with every surge. Eddie’s eyes scanned fast, assessing who was closest to slipping, who was in immediate danger. Then movement caught his attention off to the side.

A family was floating on a large piece of debris, maybe part of a broken concession stand. The father had one arm hooked around a bent railing, the other wrapped around a small child. A woman clung to him, soaked and shaking.

Eddie leaned over the side of the boat. He spoke to them in Spanish.

His voice was clear and firm, cutting through their panic.

They promptly answered back, the man pointing up.

His words were rushed, urgent.

“Wait, who's up there?” Bobby asked.

Eddie’s eyes followed where the man was pointing.

“La bombera.” Eddie repeated.

Up on one of the higher platforms, a firefighter in turnout gear was braced against a metal beam, trying to help a woman out of a stuck gondola. Even from below, Eddie could see she was straining, one arm locked around a child while using the other to secure someone else.

“Hey, we could use a hand up here.” A voice called from above. It was the female firefighter’s voice, and filled with frustration and anger. The kind that came from being stretched too thin.

Eddie and Bobby both looked up, spotting her more clearly now. She was wedged between two beams, trying to keep a man from slipping.

Eddie turned to Bobby with a smirk. “Fire lady.”

It was brief. Automatic. The kind of deflection that kept the edge off the fear. Bobby rolled his eyes at Eddie, before looking back up.

The ferris wheel groaned as another surge of water slammed into the base.

The boat rocked hard beneath them.

The sudden shift nearly threw Eddie off balance. He widened his stance automatically, one hand bracing against the side rail as water slapped hard against the hull.

“All right, grab an extra harness, rope, pulleys, figure eight plates.” Bobby instructed Eddie. “I'll coordinate evac and transport some down here.”

Eddie nodded, already crouching to gather the equipment at his feet. His hands moved fast and practiced, clipping carabiners together, slinging rope over his shoulder. “Sounds like a plan, Cap.”

He didn’t waste another second. He stepped onto the edge of the boat and climbed onto the cold metal frame of the Ferris wheel, boots slipping slightly before he found his footing. The structure swayed under his weight. He grabbed hold of one of the spokes and started climbing.

The wind coming off the water hit him full in the face. He ignored it and kept moving, muscles burning as he hauled himself up to the first gondola. He swung one leg over the edge and shoved the equipment inside just as the entire wheel rocked again.

Patrons screamed. The metal groaned.

The female firefighter inside the gondola muttered something under her breath that was definitely not polite.

“That's not part of the ride.” Eddie said with a smirk, trying to cut through the panic.

“No, the spokes are coming off the hub.” The female firefighter said, glancing up toward the top of the wheel. “This thing's been thrashed.”

Eddie followed her line of sight. The damage was worse up close. Bolts bent. Metal twisted.

“What about you? Are you hurt?” Eddie asked, steadying himself against the frame while he looked her over.

“No, and neither is he.” She nodded toward the man inside the gondola.

The man was clinging to the pole in the center like it was the only solid thing left in the world.

“I'm not going anywhere,” The man said, his voice high with fear. “-Not until the water's gone.”

“Sir, if you don't come with us, this whole thing will be gone.” The female firefighter shot back, firm.

“Don't worry, buddy. I'm gonna get you down safely.” Eddie said, lowering his voice, keeping it calm. “I'm just gonna put this harness around you, okay?”

He moved carefully, keeping his center of gravity low as the gondola swayed again.

“Okay, okay. All right.” The man panted.

Eddie crouched and wrapped the harness around him, fingers moving quickly despite the shaking metal beneath them.

“Eddie Diaz, 118.” Eddie said, glancing up at the firefighter as he tightened the straps.

“Lena Bosko, 136.”

Eddie’s brow lifted. “You were on the pit when it hit.”

“Yeah.” She didn’t elaborate.

He scanned the other gondolas, searching for more blue turnout coats. “Where's your crew?”

“Got separated…” She shrugged lightly. “Call the spin cycle.”

Despite everything, Eddie huffed out a quiet breath.

“Alright.” He gripped the man’s arms. “Let's get you up. Let's get you up.”

He lifted carefully. The man whimpered as Eddie maneuvered him toward the edge.

“There we go.Okay.”

Eddie clipped him into the line and leaned over the edge.

“Coming to you, Cap!”

Below, Bobby and the rescuer shifted into position.

The Ferris wheel groaned again, louder this time. The entire structure vibrated under Eddie’s boots.

“Don't drop me. Don't drop me.” The man pleaded. “Oh, God! Oh, God.”

“We've got you.” Bobby yelled up. “We've got you, just try to relax.”

Eddie controlled the descent, feeding rope through the figure eight slowly. The man swung slightly before Bobby and the rescuer grabbed him and eased him into the boat.

“Watch your step.” Bobby called as they settled him in.

Eddie turned back toward Bosko.

“When the wave hit, how'd you get back here?”

“Swam.”

“You sure did and then you climbed.”

“Free climb on the weekends, soldier.”

Eddie straightened slightly, eyeing her. “How'd you know I was in the service?”

“You all carry yourselves the same way.” She gave him a quick smile. “All that spit and polish. My captain served, army.”

Eddie let out a short chuckle and grabbed the safety rope. “Must be a good man.”

He hauled himself out of the gondola and climbed higher, Bosko right behind him. The metal was slick. His gloves slipped once and his heart jumped before he caught himself.

“Ma'am, stay put. We're coming to you.” Eddie yelled up.

He pulled himself over the lip of the next gondola and froze for half a second.

A woman was cradling a man against her chest, her face streaked with tears.

“Oh, thank God you're here!”

“What happened here, Ma'am?”

“He hit his neck when the wave came, and he can't feel his fingers.”

Bosko swung in from the other side.

“My arms went numb.” The man said. “A couple minutes later, my legs gave out.”

Eddie climbed fully inside and dropped to his knees beside him, careful not to jostle him.

“Am I paralyzed?”

“That's too soon to tell.” Eddie said steadily. “You said you lost sensation in your arms first and then your legs?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Eddie nodded. “Well, that might be a sign of swelling, which means you bruised your neck instead of breaking it.”

The wheel shrieked as metal ground against metal. It rocked violently and Eddie grabbed the support pole to keep from being thrown.

“Hey, Cap,” Eddie shouted down. “we can get one down to you, but the other one's a possible spinal. We're gonna need a Hail Mary.”

“I'll order one up for you.” Bobby called back. “Coast guard, coast guard. This is Captain Nash LAFD. We need a miracle at the pier. We need one quick.”

Eddie turned back to Max and Stacey.

“You should be fine. Help's on the way.”

He held Max’s gaze, willing him to believe it.

Minutes later, the backboard was passed up and the thudding whir of helicopter blades grew louder overhead. Wind whipped through the gondola, rattling everything.

Eddie and Bosko worked fast. Collar on. Secure the head. Straps tight.

“You see, Max? How's that for a sign?” Stacey said, voice trembling but hopeful. “There's hope, so fight.”

Eddie waved toward the helicopter, signaling them in.

For a brief second, his mind flashed back to another rescue. Buck pinned under a ladder truck. Waiting. Hoping. Eddie refusing to let go of his hand.

“Max, you moved your fingers.”

“I think I'm getting some feeling back.”

“You're gonna be okay.” Stacey whispered. “We're gonna be okay.”

“Give me the pen, Stacey,” Max said. “- and those papers.”

“Max…”

“We were always a disaster, baby.”

Stacey’s shoulders shook as she handed him the papers and pen.

Eddie caught the aerial gurney as it was lowered, steadying it against the rocking gondola.

“What a beautiful disaster we were.”

Stacey kissed him gently before Eddie and Bosko secured him onto the gurney.

“Clear!” Eddie shouted once the straps were locked.

The helicopter lifted Max away, the line going taut as he was pulled into the air.

They got Stacey harnessed and lowered her down next, the wheel thankfully holding steady for those few seconds.

The boat had barely pulled a few yards away when Bobby’s posture changed. Eddie followed his line of sight.

The water was pulling back toward the ocean again, dragging everything with it. Boards. Cars. Pieces of rides.

“Incoming, debris!” Bobby yelled.

The Ferris wheel shrieked as the pressure shifted. It tilted sharply.

“This thing is gonna go down. Let's go. Go, go, go!”

Eddie and Bosko were still in the gondola. Eddie glanced at her, adrenaline spiking.

“Free climb, how 'bout free fall?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He swung himself over the side and jumped.

The water hit hard. Cold and violent. He surfaced immediately and started swimming for the boat.

Bobby leaned over the side, engine revving.

“Here, here, here, here, here, here.”

Eddie grabbed his hand and Bobby hauled him up. Bosko came up right behind him and was dragged aboard too.

The boat sped away just as the Ferris wheel gave one final groan and collapsed sideways into the churning water.

Debris surged toward the spot where it had stood moments before, swallowing it whole.

The raft eventually came to a stop just outside what used to be the pier entrance. The old sign was still there, tilted slightly, paint chipped and streaked with salt. Everything beyond it looked wrong. Flattened. Dragged inland. Twisted.

Bobby climbed out first, boots hitting the shallow water with a splash. He moved carefully, scanning the area as he waded forward. Eddie followed, grabbing the equipment at his feet and slinging the black bag over his shoulder. The weight of it pulled at his already sore muscles, but he adjusted it without complaint and stepped into the water behind his captain.

Bosko climbed out last. She tried to mask it, but she winced when her boots hit the water, her hand pressing briefly against her side before she straightened.

The water was mid calf, murky and full of debris. Pieces of wood bumped against their legs as they walked.

Bobby’s radio crackled sharply, cutting through the distant noise of sirens and engines.

“There's a truck on its way, Captain.”

“Copy that. Nash out.” Bobby thumbed the radio and clipped it back to his chest. He kept walking as he spoke over his shoulder. “Our team is still stuck on the other side. Our trucks can't get through just yet. Earth movers are still clearing the roads.”

Eddie let out a slow breath, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. “118's hoofing it for a while.”

Bobby nodded without breaking stride. “It looks that way. Hen and Chimney are readying some turnout backpacks until we're mobile again.”

Bosko picked up her pace to match them, though it was clear she wasn’t moving comfortably. Bobby slowed and stopped abruptly, causing her to nearly walk into him.

“Bosko, your crew from your house are all alive and accounted for except for Captain Cooper. He's still MIA.” He held her gaze as he said it. “I'm sorry.”

The shift in her face was immediate. Her jaw tightened, eyes hardening for a split second before something heavier settled there.

“Well, if it's all the same to you, Captain, I'm gonna stick around and look for him.”

Bobby studied her for a moment, then his eyes dropped to the way she was holding herself.

“Why are you holding yourself like that?”

“It's nothing, bruised rib.”

Eddie stepped forward without hesitation.

“Let me take a look at it.”

“I said it's nothing.” She snapped, stepping back half a pace.

“Clearly, it's not.” Eddie replied, unimpressed.

Bosko’s face twisted with irritation as she moved forward again, closing the distance like she was daring him. “Are you gonna drop this?”

“Hey, Bosko, let him have a look.” Bobby said evenly. “I'm not asking.”

She exhaled sharply through her nose and looked away, annoyed but compliant.

Eddie set the bag down and knelt in front of her in the shallow water. He pressed two fingers carefully along her ribs. The second he hit the wrong spot, she sucked in a sharp breath and her hand shot out instinctively to grab his wrist.

“Yeah, that's not a bruise. It's broken.” Eddie said, glancing up at her with a look that was part assessment, part quiet judgment. “Must be hurting like a bitch.”

“Yeah, well, breathing isn't super fun.” She didn’t bother hiding it now. The strain was obvious in her face.

“I'm calling it. You're off the field.” Bobby said simply.

“Sir, I said I'm fine.” She pushed back, stubborn.

Bobby shook his head once. The look in his eyes shifted for a second, something personal flickering there. He’d seen that exact brand of stubborn pain recently. Seen someone he cared about try to outrun it.

He turned as a heavy vehicle rolled toward them, tires chewing through debris. It was a specialized disaster response truck, built for exactly this kind of terrain.

Bobby raised his arm, motioning it forward.

“USAR Command is setting up the VA hospital on Sawtelle.” He looked between Eddie and Bosko. “I want you to stick with her just in case her desire to track down her captain causes her to lose her way.”

Eddie nodded once. Bosko rolled her eyes but didn’t argue again.

“I'm gonna meet up with the 118.” Bobby continued. “Rendezvous with us when you can.”

“Copy that, Cap.” Eddie replied.

Bobby turned and moved off through the water toward another cluster of responders, already shifting into command mode.

Eddie picked up the bag again and slung it over his shoulder. Before climbing onto the truck, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Who you calling?” Bosko asked, watching him.

“My partner. He’s looking after my son. I don't want them to worry.”

He scrolled quickly through his contacts and tapped Buck’s name. He pressed the phone to his ear as he stepped toward the truck.

It didn’t ring. It went straight to voicemail. Eddie frowned faintly but didn’t let it linger.

“Hey Carino, it's me.” He spoke into the phone, keeping his tone light. “You’re probably napping right now, but I just wanted to let you know I’ll probably be home a little late tonight, we got our hands full here.” He glanced out over the devastation for a second before continuing. “It's good thing you're missing it. Hope you guys are having fun. Remember to eat something more than candy and please remember your meds. You’re supposed to take them soon. I love you. Tell Chris I love him too.”

He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

He jogged the last few steps to the truck, hoisted the bag up first, then grabbed the side rail and pulled himself into the back. Bosko climbed up after him, slower this time.

The second they were both on board, the truck lurched forward, engine roaring as it pushed through the flooded street toward the next disaster waiting for them.

Buck kept moving through the water, each step heavier than the last. His head felt foggy, like he hadn’t slept in days. His leg throbbed in a deep, relentless way that made him grit his teeth every few steps. He barely noticed anymore unless the pain spiked sharp enough to make him stumble.

His hand kept drifting up to the glasses hanging around his neck. He’d touch the red elastic, press the frames against his chest, like they were proof that Chris was still out there somewhere. Like they were a thread he could follow.

He felt unsteady. Not just physically. Inside. Like he was balancing on the edge of something he couldn’t afford to fall into.

Eddie trusted him. Chris trusted him.

And he’d turned his back for one second.

A voice cut through the noise around him.

“Hey! There's a kid under here!”

Buck’s head snapped toward the sound so fast his vision blurred for a second. He shoved through the water, ignoring the way his leg dragged slightly behind him.

“Christopher? Hey!” Buck called, breath catching in his throat. He limped toward a cluster of people gathered around a fallen sign. He spotted a man in a baseball cap and pointed at him. “Hey, guys...hey, hey, big guy! Me and you, come on!”

The man didn’t hesitate. He splashed over to the opposite side of the heavy wooden sign that had collapsed over something small.

Buck swallowed hard. Please.

“All right, three, two, one. Go!” Buck said, bracing himself as they lifted.

The sign shifted, heavy and waterlogged. They heaved together and shoved it aside.

It wasn’t Christopher.

It was a teenage girl. Fourteen, maybe. Blood streaked down the side of her face and her hands were shaking as she pushed herself upright. She started crying immediately, the sound thin and overwhelmed.

Buck’s chest tightened painfully.

He should’ve felt relieved. She was alive. She was breathing. They’d gotten to her.

But the relief didn’t land. The panic was still louder.

Other survivors moved in, helping the girl to her feet, wrapping arms around her shoulders and guiding her away from the wreckage.

Buck raised his hand quickly.

“Hey, hey, hey, excuse me.” His voice cracked hard on the first word. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I'm looking for an eight-year-old boy. His name is Christopher. He's always smiling, and he's got CP, Ce-cerebral Palsy. He's got curly brown hair, yellow striped shirt.”

He felt like he was listing off pieces of himself.

The man in the baseball cap, a young surfer type with sunburned cheeks and sand stuck to his legs, nodded slowly.

“Yeah, yeah. I think I saw him.”

Buck’s whole body reacted. His mouth fell open and he let out a shaky gasp he hadn’t meant to make.

“Where?”

“He was headed with a group to that Cupcakery place.” The surfer gestured vaguely down the street. “I heard they're handing out water.”

Buck blinked rapidly, trying to process. “Uh-Cupcakery, wh-wh-what is that?”

“You know, cupcake bakery.” The surfer said, patient but urgent. “It's about six or seven blocks south of here on Strand.”

Six or seven blocks.

Buck nodded quickly, almost bowing his head without meaning to.

“Thank you. Thank you.”

He didn’t wait for anything else. He turned and pushed forward.

Running was generous. It was more like a determined, uneven sprint through water that refused to cooperate. His leg screamed in protest immediately, a sharp flare of pain that made him stagger, but he caught himself and kept going.

Christopher was blocks away. That was close. That was reachable. He focused on that and nothing else.

Water splashed up around his knees as he forced himself faster. He ignored the debris, the people calling out for others, the sirens in the distance.

Everything narrowed down to one thing. Six or seven blocks. He just had to get there.

Athena pulled up outside Buck and Eddie’s house just as the early evening light started to fade.

The neighborhood looked untouched. Quiet. Almost too quiet.

She stepped out of her cruiser, shutting the door firmly behind her, and walked up the short path to the front door. Her boots sounded too loud against the concrete.

She knocked.

Once. Twice. Harder the third time.

Nothing.

She leaned back slightly, listening for movement inside. A television. Footsteps. Christopher’s voice. Silence.

Her jaw tightened. She stepped off the porch and moved toward the front living room window, cupping her hands around her eyes to cut the glare.

The couch was empty. The throw blanket folded neatly over the arm. No lights on. No movement.

She shifted to the side window, the one into Christopher’s bedroom just off the entryway. She knew the layout by heart at this point.

The curtains were half drawn. His bed was made. No crutches leaning neatly against the wall. No small figure. No sound.

Athena stepped back slowly, her eyes scanning the driveway. Buck’s jeep wasn’t there.

She exhaled through her nose and immediately reached for her phone. Maddie picked up quickly.

“Please tell me you’re there,” Maddie said before Athena could speak.

“I’m here,” Athena replied, keeping her voice level. “But they’re not.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end.

“The house is empty,” Athena continued. “No answer at the door. Jeep’s gone.”

Maddie’s breathing shifted. Athena could hear it.

“That doesn’t mean they were anywhere near the pier,” Athena added quickly. “It doesn’t mean anything yet. They could’ve gone to the grocery store. Or the movies. Or anywhere inland.”

Maddie didn’t respond right away.

“Athena,” she said quietly, “Buck hasn’t answered Shannon. Or me.”

Athena closed her eyes for half a second.

“I know,” she said gently. “But phones are spotty right now. Networks are overloaded. That doesn’t mean the worst.”

She stepped back toward her cruiser, already thinking three steps ahead.

“I’ll reach your father through his radio,” she said. “He’s closer to the action than I’ll be able to get. He’ll find them if they’re near the impact zone..”

“Okay,” Maddie replied, though she didn’t sound convinced.

“And Maddie,” Athena added firmly, “do not tell Eddie or Shannon anything for definite. Not until we know something concrete.”

“I wouldn’t,” Maddie said immediately. “Shannon’s already panicking.”

“I’ll call you the second I know more,” Athena said.

She hung up and stood there for a moment, looking at the empty house.

Then she reached for her radio.

Calls were stacking up faster than the system could comfortably handle. Every screen on the call floor flashed in some shade of urgency. Red. Orange. Blinking alerts. Operators spoke over one another, headsets crooked slightly as they tried to listen and type at the same time.

Sue had asked Maddie to get back on the phones twenty minutes ago. Officially, it was to help with the call flow. Unofficially, Maddie had a feeling it was to keep her from staring at her own phone waiting for updates about Buck and Christopher. And to keep her from thinking too hard about the fact that she hadn’t told Shannon or Eddie that Buck wasn’t home.

Maddie slid into her chair and adjusted her headset, fingers already hovering over her keyboard. Even while taking her own calls, she leaned sideways to check in on the operators near her, catching snippets of panicked voices bleeding through their headsets.

“Dizziness, mild seizure, in and out of consciousness-” one of the dispatchers said, eyes darting across his screen as he relayed the symptoms.

Maddie swiveled toward him slightly, scanning the notes over his shoulder.

“Tell the responders they may be treating a subdural hematoma and to mark it as a Code Three on the priority list.”

“Before or after the guy with the fishhook in his eye?”

Maddie let out a breath through her nose, exhaustion and disbelief mixing in her chest.

“Dealer's choice.” She gave a small shrug. “Whoever they get to first.”

The dispatcher nodded and turned back to his caller.

Maddie pressed the flashing icon on her screen and her next call came through immediately.

“911, what's your emergency?”

“Yes, I'm calling from Kenosha, Wisconsin.”

Maddie blinked. Her fingers paused for half a second before she started typing again.

“My daughter is missing-”

Maddie’s brow furrowed as she leaned forward.

“Ma'am, I don't know how you got put through to me, but this is Los Angeles.”

“I know that. Joanna was texting me from her place near the beach, but her texts became, like, gibberish.” The woman’s voice was tight with panic. “And now, I can't reach her at all.”

Maddie straightened in her chair.

“Okay, I understand. Can I get your name?”

“Louise Hickey.”

“Louise, do you know if your daughter is on any medications?” Maddie asked, her fingers moving quickly over the keyboard, pulling up location data and incident logs.

“She's a health nut. I don't even think she takes aspirin.”

“I know you're worried, but before you assume the worst, there are a number of reasons Joanna's phone may have stopped working, water damage alone.”

“No, she was texting after the tsunami.” Louise insisted. “She and her neighbors were all safe in the lounge on the 10th floor. Can't you send somebody over there?”

Maddie pressed her lips together. Every unit was already stretched thin. She could see it in real time on her map.

“I'll see what I can do, but understand that our first responders and emergency crews are already stretched to the brink.”

“Please, whatever you can do. She's at the Ocean Plaza Apartment Complex on Ocean Avenue.”

Maddie’s fingers froze on the keyboard.

Ocean Plaza.

Her voice shifted without her meaning it to.

“Ocean Plaza, right. Okay, you stay strong, Louise, and let us know if you hear from your daughter.”

The line clicked dead.

Maddie stared at her screen for a second longer than she should have, then spun her chair toward Linda.

“Hey, Linda, didn't I hear you taking a call a little while ago, something about the Ocean Plaza Apartment Complex?”

Linda pulled one earcup off and nodded.

“Yeah, a caller was having trouble reaching his boyfriend, said their phone conversation cut off mid-sentence, then nothing.”

Maddie turned slowly in her chair, eyes drifting toward the monitors mounted in the break room across the floor. Footage from all over the city played on mute. Flooded streets. Collapsed structures.

“Wait.” she whispered. She pivoted back to her computer and started typing fast, searching Red Cross listings, scanning social media feeds, filtering by location tags.Nothing. No one from Ocean Plaza marking themselves safe. No mentions. No check ins. Her stomach tightened.

She stood up abruptly and moved across the floor, weaving between desks until she caught up with Sue.

“I checked the Red Cross and social media to see if anyone from Ocean Plaza had marked themselves as safe.” Maddie said quickly. “Not one mention of it anywhere.”

Sue slowed, then stopped, turning to face her fully.

“Let me see if I understand this correctly.” Sue let out a short breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “With everything we've got on our plate, you wanna send help to the only building in the area that isn't asking for any?”

Maddie heard it as soon as it left her mouth. How it sounded. Even so, her gut twisted hard.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

Sue studied her for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Please don't take offense, but are you okay?”

Maddie swallowed. She forced her shoulders back and nodded.

“Yes, Sue, I'm fine.” She kept her voice steady. “But if something bad happened at that address, and I didn't-”

She couldn’t finish it.

“I get it, but unless we can confirm an emergency with someone on site, our hands are tied, Maddie.” Sue’s voice softened, but it didn’t change the answer. “We don't have the resources.”

Maddie’s jaw tightened. She nodded once, even though every instinct in her was screaming that something wasn’t right.

She stepped back, returning slowly to her desk.

The phones were still ringing. Operators were still calling out codes and locations. The floor buzzed with urgency.

Maddie sat down, adjusted her headset again, and pressed the next blinking line. All she could do now was hope a call would come in that proved her wrong. Or confirmed what her gut was already telling her.

By the time the open house ended, Shannon’s face hurt from smiling.She’d shaken hands. Made small talk. Talked about the hardwood floors and the updated kitchen and how close the place was to the T. She’d laughed at polite jokes and nodded through questions about square footage like the world wasn’t unraveling three thousand miles away.

She’d kept checking her phone between visitors. No missed calls. No texts. Now the front door shut behind the last potential buyer and the house went quiet. Too quiet.

The staged warmth felt fake without bodies moving through it. The candle in the kitchen had burned low, the flowers on the entry table already starting to droop slightly at the edges. Late afternoon light stretched long across the hardwood floors.

Shannon locked the door, turned the sign to Closed, and stood in the foyer for a second.

She didn’t have to pretend anymore. Her composure cracked almost instantly.

She grabbed her phone off the console table and hit Buck’s name again. It didn’t even ring this time. Straight to voicemail.

“Come on,” she breathed, pacing into the living room. “Come on, Smudge.”

She tried Maddie. It rang longer. Long enough to give her a flicker of hope. Then voicemail. 

She hung up and called again. Voicemail.

Her heart started pounding harder. She moved in tight circles across the living room, heels clicking against the floor, the sound sharp in the empty house.

Okay. Think.

She pulled up Bobby’s contact.

If Eddie was out there working, Bobby would be too. But maybe he’d step away. Maybe he’d see it was her calling. 

It rang. And rang. And then his voicemail picked up too.

She lowered the phone slowly from her ear, staring at the wall for a second like it might rearrange itself into an answer.

She called Buck again. Voicemail. She left one this time.

“Buck, it’s me. Call me. Please Smudge. Just… call me back.” Her voice wavered on the last word and she hated that.

She ended the call and immediately redialed Maddie. Nothing.

She paced from the living room to the kitchen and back again, hands pushing through her hair. The news was still playing on the TV she’d turned on after the open house ended. More footage. More destruction. Reporters talking over images of responders in the water.

She muted it, unable to listen but unable to turn it off. Her mind kept supplying images she didn’t want.

Christopher calling for someone.

Buck pushing himself too hard. Ignoring pain like he always did when someone else needed him.

She stopped pacing long enough to brace both hands on the kitchen counter, head hanging between her shoulders.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “Okay.”

She tried Buck again.

Voicemail.

She tried Eddie again, even though she knew better. 

Voicemail.

Her throat tightened. She moved back toward the front window, the same spot she’d stood in hours earlier. The Boston street outside was still calm. Someone was jogging past with headphones in. A neighbor across the way was watering plants on their stoop.

It felt surreal.

Her entire world was in Los Angeles. Her son. Her best friend. The father of her child. And she was stuck here, waiting.

She hit Maddie’s name one more time and pressed the phone to her ear, pacing again as it rang.

“Pick up,” she muttered. “Maddie, pick up.”

When it went to voicemail again, she didn’t hang up right away. She let the silence stretch before finally lowering the phone.

Her breathing was shallow now, uneven. She walked into the hallway, then back into the living room. She checked her phone for missed calls even though she knew there weren’t any.

She typed out a text to Buck.

Smudge, please tell me you’re both at home and your phone died.

She stared at it for a second before sending it.

Then another to Maddie.

Mads, any update?

Then two to Bobby.

Have you heard from them?

Bobby, please tell me you’ve heard from Buck? 

She stood there in the middle of the staged living room, surrounded by throw pillows and perfectly arranged magazines, and felt completely powerless.

“Please be okay,” she whispered into the empty house. And all she could do was wait for her phone to ring.

A couple hours later, Athena was back in her cruiser, parked along a side street while crews tried to untangle traffic further west. The sky had gone from pale gold to deep blue. Sirens wailed somewhere in the distance, constant and overlapping.

She lifted her radio.

“Bobby, it’s Athena. You copy?”

Static crackled for a second before his voice came through, steady but tight. “Copy, Athena. Go ahead.”

“You somewhere you can talk?”

There was a pause. Background noise. Voices calling out.

“Stand by.”

A few seconds later her cell phone lit up with Bobby’s name. She answered immediately.

“Hey,” he said, and she could hear it now that he wasn’t over the radio. The strain. The exhaustion. “What’s going on?”

Athena leaned back against the headrest, watching emergency lights flash in her rearview mirror. “I stopped by Buck and Eddie’s.”

There was no interruption. Just silence.

“They weren’t home,” she continued. “No answer at the door. Jeep’s gone. House was empty.”

She didn’t have to see him to know what that did to him. She could picture it. The way his shoulders would go stiff. The way his jaw would set.

“Shannon just texted me,” Bobby said quietly. “She’s asking if I’ve heard from them.”

Athena closed her eyes for a second. “Of course she did.”

He let out a slow breath. “You think they were down there?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “And that’s the point. We don’t know anything yet.”

She straightened in her seat, her tone firm but calm. “Bobby, listen to me. The house being empty doesn’t mean they were anywhere near the pier. It doesn’t mean they were in the impact zone. They could’ve gone to the store. A movie. Anywhere inland. You know Buck. Christopher probably batted his eyelashes at him and Buck gave in and took him to the zoo.”

There was a small huff of air on the other end. Not quite a laugh.

“He hasn’t answered his phone,” Bobby said.

“Networks are overloaded,” Athena replied immediately. “You know that. We’ve been dealing with dropped calls all afternoon. Phones dying. Towers jammed. That doesn’t equal worst case scenario.”

She could hear him shifting, probably turning away from his crew for a little privacy.

“He’s my son, Athena. If he was out there and he’s hurt.” Bobby said, low. “He’s on blood thinners. And he hasn’t spoken to me in a week. If the last conversation I ever had with him was -”

She softened.

“I know, Baby,” she said gently “I know why you’re scared. I am too.”.

She could visualise Bobby nodding his head slightly.  Athena continued, steady and grounded. “But right now, you can’t let your head run ahead of the facts. You’re out there. You’ve got a job to do. Panicking doesn’t help Buck. It doesn’t help Chris.”

A beat.

“And don’t say anything to Eddie,” she added. “Not yet. Not until we know more. He’s in the middle of this. The last thing he needs is his head split in two worrying about something we can’t confirm.”

“I wouldn’t,” Bobby said, though he sounded torn. “Shannon’s already spiraling.”

“I told Maddie the same thing,” Athena replied. “No definites. Not until we have something concrete.”

Silence stretched between them again, but it wasn’t empty. It was shared worry.

“You think they’re okay?” Bobby asked finally.

Athena stared out at the darkening street, at the flashing lights reflecting off wet pavement.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “I do. Buck’s stubborn as hell. And he loves that kid more than anything. If they were anywhere near trouble, he’d fight like hell to get them through it.”

She let that sit for a second.

“We don’t even know they were near the pier,” she repeated. “Until we do, we assume they’re fine.”

Bobby exhaled slowly. “Okay.”

“I’ll keep digging on my end,” she said. “You keep your head in the game. And if you hear anything, you call me first.”

“I will.”

They stayed on the line for another second, neither quite ready to hang up.

“Hey,” Athena said softly. “They’re strong. Both of them.”

“I know,” Bobby replied.

Then the line clicked off, and Athena sat there for a moment longer, gripping her phone a little tighter than she meant to before putting the cruiser back in gear.

Maddie sat at her desk, staring at her cell phone. 6 missed calls from Shannon Diaz.

The screen felt heavier than it should. Shannon’s name stacked over and over again, each one a reminder of the lie sitting in Maddie’s chest. She’d told her she was pretty sure Buck was at home. Pretty sure. The words had sounded steady at the time. Now they felt thin.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing at her temple. She’d always hated lying to Shannon. Ever since they were kids running around the Buckley backyard, Shannon had seen straight through things. Shannon was family. Not by blood, but close enough that it didn’t matter.

Maddie set the phone down and reached for her mouse, ready to hit the ready button and take another call. If she kept moving, she wouldn’t think. That was the goal.

Her cell phone lit up again. Her heart jumped, and she grabbed it fast, expecting Shannon’s name.It wasn’t. 

It was Bobby.

She stood so quickly her chair rolled back into the desk behind her. A couple of the other dispatchers glanced up, but she was already moving. She slipped her headset halfway off and hurried toward the break room, weaving between desks and cords.

“Hey dad,” she said quietly, closing the break room door behind her and lowering herself into one of the plastic chairs at the table.

“Hi Sweetheart.”

The way he said it told her everything. Softer than usual. Strained. Athena had told him.

“Athena called you, didn’t she?”

There was a pause on the line. She could hear background noise, distant engines, voices calling out orders.

“Yeah, she did,” Bobby said, his tone solemn. “Have you heard anything at all?”

Maddie pressed her lips together. “Not since this morning,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t mean anything. Right?”

She hated how much she needed him to agree with that.

Bobby sighed, and it sounded like it came from somewhere deep. “Maddie, I’m worried.”

Her throat tightened. She stared down at the scuffed tabletop. “I am too, Daddy,” she said after a beat. “But it’s Smudge. He’s strong. And he’d do anything to protect Christopher.”

She could see Buck in her mind. Stubborn. Fierce when it came to that kid.

“I know. But I can’t help but think the worst.”

“Me too,” she said quietly. “But we don’t know anything.”

Silence settled between them for a moment, not empty, just heavy.

“How’re you, otherwise?” Bobby asked finally. “Have you heard from Karen about Xander?”

The shift made her swallow. She clung to it. Something she could answer with certainty.

“Yeah, I spoke to them a couple of times. They’re okay,” she said, and this time the relief in her voice was real.

“Thank God!” Bobby sighed out, and she could picture him scrubbing a hand down his face. “I better go, Maddie. But if you hear anything -”

“I’ll call you right away. I promise.”

“I’ll do the same,” Bobby said. She could hear the nod in his voice. “I love you, sweetie.”

“I love you too, Dad,” she replied softly. “Be safe out there.”

“I will.”

The line clicked off.

Maddie sat there for half a second longer, staring at her reflection in the dark screen. Then she stood, squared her shoulders, and pushed back out onto the call floor, sliding her headset fully into place as she walked.

Linda stepped directly into her path, one hand raised. “Maddie, I've got this kid on the line, but I can't tell whether or not I'm being pranked.”

Linda dropped back into her chair, and Maddie leaned over her shoulder, pressing a button on Linda’s computer to patch the call into her own headset.

“Hi. Who am I speaking with?” Maddie asked, her voice calm and even.

“Why do you need to know that?” The voice shot back. A teenage girl.

“So I know what to call you.”

There was a brief pause.

“I just wanna know if you guys know about the frogman.”

Maddie blinked, exchanging a quick glance with Linda. “Say again?”

“Frogman,” the girl repeated. “He might be dead. He's in a tree, but you can't see him from the street.”

Maddie inhaled slowly through her nose. It would not be the first prank call of the day. “Then how did you spot him?”

“With my drone,” the girl said, like it was obvious.

Maddie and Linda shared a look.

“I'm looking for my friend. His name's Reggie,” the girl continued. “-He's an artist-”

“So you have a drone?” Maddie clarified, already shifting gears in her head.

“DX-Black Bird R20,” the girl answered proudly. “If you want, I can send you a link to a live feed.”

“Yes, please.”

Maddie’s fingers flew over Linda’s keyboard, opening the link as soon as it came through. Grainy footage filled the screen. Wind rattled faintly through the mic feed.

“I’m in,” Maddie said, leaning closer. Her eyes sharpened. “There’s movement. Dispatch a ladder crew down to Rose and Third.”

Linda was already on her feet, repeating the order as she moved away.

Maddie slid into Linda’s chair fully now, taking control of the screen.

“Thank you, Charlotte. You may have just saved a man's life.”

“Wait, what? How did you…”

“We've got Caller ID, a really good one,” Maddie replied, a small smirk pulling at her mouth despite everything. “‘Charlotte Rain Fingado,’ that's your name, isn't it?”

“It’s Charlie. Wow,” the girl said. “You're like Big Brother's big sister.”

Maddie huffed a soft breath through her nose. “Something like that.”

For the first time all day, her brain felt focused instead of split in two.

“I think we can help each other out,” she continued. “How far can your drone fly?”

Within minutes, she had Charlie redirecting the drone toward Ocean Plaza. Maddie pulled up maps, cross-referenced addresses, tracked the signal as the camera glided over rooftops and shattered glass.

“Keep going, Charlie. We need to find an opening,” Maddie instructed, her voice steady again, all dispatcher now.

“I don't think these windows open,” Charlie said.

“No, but maybe there's a vent or…”

Maddie leaned closer to the screen. Her eyes widened.

“There. Can you move in closer or zoom in?”

“Zooming,” Charlie confirmed. “What are we looking for, again?”

The drone drifted toward a window, pressing in tight against the glass.

Maddie’s stomach dropped.

Inside, bodies. Dozens of them. Dry. Still.

“I think we found it.”

The sun had finally set on the disaster of a day. From the steps of the station, Athena could still see flashing lights reflecting off distant glass and pooled water. The city looked bruised. Quieter than usual, but not calm. Sirens still cut through the night every few minutes.

Inside, the station was anything but quiet.

Phones rang. Radios crackled. Officers moved in and out in soaked uniforms, some with mud still caked to their boots. The air smelled like sweat, damp fabric, and burnt coffee.

Athena stood at the center of it, posture straight, voice steady. Elaine had put her in charge of assignments for the evening shift, and that meant she didn’t get to spiral. Not here.

It was all hands on deck.

As much as Athena loved her job, she didn’t want to be there tonight. Eight hours ago she and her daughter had been in a wrecked car in the middle of rising water. Eight hours ago May had held a woman’s life in her hands. Her stepson was missing, along with his future stepson, and Athena just wanted to be out looking for them. She wanted to be beside Bobby while he searched. She wanted to put a hand on his chest and tell him to breathe. She knew him well enough to know he was holding it together for his crew and quietly unraveling inside. And she knew he was probably keeping a careful distance from Eddie so he didn’t say something he couldn’t take back.

Instead, she was here.

“All right, y'all have your assignments. Fan out, make your presence known,” Athena instructed the officers, scanning their faces to make sure they were actually listening. “Might take the national guard more than a minute to get on the stick. Until then, we are the first line of defense against looters, all right? If you see anything that looks like more than a misdemeanor, call for backup. We are not looking the other way on this. Arrests will be made. Understood?”

A chorus of “Yes, ma’am” and nods followed.

“All right, move out. Be smart, stay safe.”

They dispersed quickly, boots thudding against tile, doors swinging open and shut as they headed back into the night.

Athena turned, already moving toward the next thing, when she spotted one of her younger officers standing with a small group of Latinos near the front desk. The officer looked overwhelmed.

Athena adjusted her duty belt and headed straight over.

“Hey, everything okay, Suze?” Athena asked.

The younger officer turned, relief flickering across her face. “Sergeant, they're asking for help finding their people. I tried to tell them-”

Athena stepped forward, addressing the group directly.

“Folks, for your own safety, we need you to clear the streets,” Athena ordered, her tone authoritative but kind. She kept her hands visible, open at her sides. “Make your way to the emergency shelter.”

One of the men stepped forward, eyes red, jaw tight. “My wife is missing, and you're not gonna do anything?”

Athena felt that one land. She thought of Bobby. Of Shannon pacing a house across the country. Of Maddie staring at her phone.

“We are doing everything that we can,” Athena said, her tone less kind this time, not cruel, just firm. “Now, there are people at the shelter who can take your name and reconnect you with your wife or whoever is missing.”

The man’s son tugged lightly at his sleeve. They shared a look, frustration and fear tangled together, before finally turning and walking toward the exit with the rest of the group.

Athena watched them go, jaw tight.

Her radio crackled at her shoulder.

“7-2-7-L-30. 7-2-3-L-30, come back.”

Before she could respond, she noticed a woman standing a few feet away, maybe mid-forties, clutching what looked like a sleeping child in a red hooded sweater. The child’s face was buried against her shoulder. The woman’s eyes were tired but steady.

She stepped closer and gave Athena a soft smile.

“Muchas gracias.”

Athena nodded once, her expression softening despite herself. “Okay.”

She lifted her radio.

“Dispatch, 7-2-7-L-30.”

Instructions came through quickly. Another perimeter. Another street to clear. Another problem to manage.

Athena listened, committing it to memory.

“Copy,” she said, already turning toward the door.

As she stepped back out into the night, the cool air hit her face. She paused just long enough to look up at the dark sky.

Where are you, Buck?

Then she pushed the thought down, adjusted her shoulders, and headed for her cruiser.

The dark had fallen over the streets, as Buck struggled to get his bearings. The moonlight and scattered emergency lights turned everything a strange shade of silver and red. Floodwater still pooled in low spots, reflecting flashing lights and broken signs. Smoke hung faint in the air.

It felt like it had been days, not just hours, since Chris left his side. Hours had stretched into something endless. Every minute without him felt wrong. Loud. Empty.

Buck kept moving forward, even though his leg dragged more than it should. He was cursing himself for taking so long to get to the Cupcakery. Chris could be long gone by now. Taken and protected by some kind stranger. Maybe wrapped in a blanket somewhere, scared and asking for him.

All because the pain in Buck’s leg slowed him down even more, with his wet clothes clinging to him and his body running on nothing but adrenaline and guilt.

“Hey, everyone, fresh water to your left, first aid and blankets to the right.”

The voice cut through the chaos. Somewhere close, a baby cried. Somewhere else, someone was praying out loud. The world felt too loud and too far away at the same time. Sounds came at him like they were underwater. Being without Christopher was off. It felt like walking without gravity.

Buck pushed through the crowd, breath coming in harsh pulls. He bumped shoulders with strangers, muttered apologies he didn’t mean. His eyes scanned faces, curls, small frames.

Then he saw him.

A little boy, about the right height, hugging a woman near a stack of bottled water.

“Christopher,” Buck gasped, relief hitting so fast it almost made him dizzy. He started moving faster, ignoring the way his leg protested. “Christopher! I'm here.” He yelled, shoving past two people in front of him.

“Hey, Christopher!”

He grabbed the little boy gently by the shoulders and spun him around.

And his heart dropped straight through his chest.

It wasn’t Christopher.

The boy’s face was wrong. The glasses were wrong. The curls were wrong.

The woman yanked the child back instantly, pulling him against her, eyes wide and protective.

Buck stumbled back like he’d been shoved. The relief that had just filled him drained out so fast it left him hollow.

He stood there for a second, then his knees buckled. He dropped hard to one knee, then both, hands braced on the wet pavement.

He pushed himself upright slowly, slower than normal, like his body didn’t want to cooperate anymore. He was panting, chest tight, fighting the urge to scream until his throat tore open.

“Mister, are you okay?”

The voice came from his right. A teenage boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, standing a few feet away with a blanket draped over his shoulders.

Buck blinked at him, confused for a second, like he didn’t understand the question.

“You're bleeding.”

Buck frowned and looked down. His right arm was soaked red from elbow to wrist. The water had hidden it before. Now, under the streetlights, it looked bad.

He stared at it like it belonged to someone else. He must’ve nicked himself on metal or glass. He hadn’t even felt it. Adrenaline had drowned everything out.

His vision swam suddenly. The edges went fuzzy. 

He swayed, and the ground tilted. Two strangers stepped in fast, catching him under the arms before he hit the pavement.

“Whoa, easy,” one of them said, guiding him down.

They lowered him carefully until he was sitting on the curb. The teenager moved closer, kneeling in front of him now, hand hovering near Buck’s shoulder before finally resting there.

“Can I get you something for that?”

Buck looked up at the kid. The question felt far away. Like it was meant for someone else.

All he could see was Christopher’s glasses hanging against his own chest. The red elastic brushing his collarbone every time he breathed.

He swallowed, throat raw from screaming. His mouth opened, but no words came out at first. He wasn’t thinking about the blood. He was thinking about an eight year old boy in the dark.

The 118 moved by foot, having walked for what felt like miles. Their boots were soaked through, uniforms stiff with salt and grime. Every step squelched. The streets were littered with debris, overturned trash cans, broken signage, pieces of people’s lives scattered in the dark. By the time Ocean Plaza came into view, nobody said out loud how exhausted they were. They just kept moving.

“Sword of Damocles at 12:00, Cap.” Chimney stated, nodding his head towards the bent street lamp, sparks flying from it.

The lamp leaned at an unnatural angle, metal warped, wires exposed and hissing where they kissed puddles of water.

“I see it.” Bobby said, already tracking the danger. “John, can you get some caution tape up around that streetlamp before somebody gets nailed by it?”

The firefighter nodded without hesitation and peeled off from the group, unhooking tape from his belt as he jogged toward the hazard.

The rest of the team slowed at the base of the building. Ocean Plaza loomed above them, windows dark, water stains marking how high the surge had climbed.

Bobby turned to the others, eyes moving from face to face. “Okay, until we know what's what, masks go on and they stay on.”

There was no argument. Helmets came off. Breathing masks replaced them. The hiss of air filled the space as they sealed them in place. They moved inside, Bobby leading.

The lobby was a mess. Murky water still sloshed ankle deep across the floor, carrying the smell of salt and something else. Something metallic. Something wrong.

“Schematics put the stairs over…” Hen said, glancing down at her device as it beeped sharply. “CO.”

Chimney checked his own reader and swore under his breath. “A hell of a lot of it, 212 PPMs.”

The number hung heavy.

“Okay, Hen, Geary, check building maintenance, central heating units.” Bobby ordered immediately. “Find the source and shut it down. Everybody else on me. Dispatch to tenth floor.”

“Copy that.” Hen affirmed, already turning with Geary to head toward the lower level.

The rest of them pushed toward the stairwell. The air felt thicker the higher they climbed. Chimney kept checking levels, calling them out without being asked.

They moved fast but controlled, boots echoing against concrete.

“PPMs at over 300, Cap.” Chimney confirmed as they reached the tenth floor, breathing mask fogging slightly. “Probably being vented in all-”

“Ah!”

The door to one of the apartments flew open and a man stumbled out, nearly crashing into Bobby. His eyes were unfocused, pupils blown wide.

“Ah, I'm not falling for it... who's the mess about?”

“Sir. Sir, we are here to help.” Bobby said, hands up, voice firm but steady. “Try to calm yourself. You're suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning.”

“Need to very much...nomenclature.” The man mumbled, fingers pressing against his nose. He sniffed hard, then gagged and vomited onto the hallway floor.

“Did he just say ‘nomenclature’?” Chimney asked, glancing at Bobby despite the urgency.

Bobby didn’t take his eyes off the man. “Alright, get him outside.”

Two firefighters stepped in immediately, each taking an arm and guiding him toward the stairs.

“Some residents must have taken higher ground as the water rose,” Bobby said, scanning the hallway, doors cracked open. 

“Unfortunately, the gas did too.” Chimney added, checking his reader again. “Concentration is highest here at the top.”

“Let's hope we're not too late to the party,” Bobby said, moving to the next apartment door and pushing it open.

Over a dozen bodies on the floor, on couches, slumped against walls. Some close together like they’d been trying to stay calm. None moving.

“Okay, let's go, go, go.”

They surged forward. Training took over.

Chimney dropped beside a woman near the couch. “Got a pulse here, it's steady, but her face has discoloration.”

“Alright, we gotta get some fresh air in here ASAP.” Bobby crossed the room in three strides. He yanked his hammer from his belt and smashed it into the floor to ceiling window. The glass shattered outward, raining down to the street below. Cool night air rushed in.

Footsteps sounded behind him.

“Building's backup generator got damaged by the seawater.” Hen said, stepping into the room, pulling off her gloves. “We managed to put it out of its misery.”

Bobby nodded once. “Okay, start bringing them down, get 'em on O2.”

There was no wasted motion. They worked in pairs, lifting limp bodies carefully, slinging some over shoulders, supporting others between them. Masks were adjusted. Oxygen tanks hauled up the stairs and back down again.

The stairwell became a steady stream of firefighters carrying unconscious residents.

Outside, they laid them in rows on relatively dry pavement, working quickly to get oxygen flowing. Faces were pale, some tinged red.

Bobby was one of the last to step back out into the night air. He pulled his radio up, thumb pressing the button.

“This is Ladder 118, Captain Nash requesting medical transport at Ocean Plaza Apartment Complex, nine-nine Ocean, north entrance for-”

Chimney turned his head from where he was kneeling beside a patient. “17 minimum, Cap.”

“At least 17 patients, acute CO poisoning, ASAP.”

“Copy request, Ladder 118. All ambulances currently engaged. Stand by.”

Bobby closed his eyes for a fraction of a second. “Standing by.”

He lowered the radio slowly.

He moved from patient to patient, crouching, checking pulses, adjusting masks, asking for updates. He needed his hands busy. If they weren’t, his mind drifted.

And when it drifted, it went straight to Buck.

They hadn’t spoken in a week. The longest stretch in years. The argument still replayed in his head, words he wished he could take back. The look on Buck’s face when he’d walked away.

Now the city was in pieces, and Bobby couldn’t shake the thought that his son might be out there somewhere in it. Or worse.

“Bobby?”

Hen’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Yeah?” He turned toward her.

She was moving fast, eyes sharp. “Bobby, we gotta find a way to move all these people.”

“Already on it, just gonna take some time for the ambulances to get here.”

“We don't have time.” Hen shook her head and pointed down the street. “That gas truck down the street, it's leaking gasoline into the water.”

Bobby followed her gaze. A tanker sat crooked against the curb, its side scraped open. A thin sheen spread across the water at their feet, rainbow under the streetlights. 

His stomach dropped. He looked down at the puddles surrounding their boots.

“We're standing on top of a bomb.” Hen confirmed quietly.

For a split second, Buck wasn’t in his head anymore. Only how he and his team were getting their patients out of this.

Eddie and Bosko climbed off the back of the truck after what felt like the longest ride of Eddie’s life. Every bump in the road had made Lena suck in a sharp breath and clamp her hand tighter against her side. By the time they pulled up to the VA hospital, her skin looked gray under the floodlights.

When they stepped down onto the pavement, her knees buckled slightly. Eddie caught her under the arm without thinking.

“Easy,” he muttered, keeping her upright as they moved toward the chaotic entrance. Stretchers rolled past them. Volunteers shouted directions. Someone was crying somewhere behind the triage tent.

“Hey. Hey!” Eddie called out to one of the staff who was walking by. “My friend's got at least one broken rib and showing signs-”

“Can I get your names for the list, please?” The nurse asked, her voice urgent but mechanical, already reaching for a clipboard.

Bosko pulled herself from Eddie’s grasp with more strength than she should’ve had and snatched the clipboard out of the nurse’s hand.

“You have a list?”

“Excuse me.” The nurse said, hands raised in disbelief.

“Lena,” Eddie snapped through gritted teeth as he reached to steady her. “Lena. First we get you fixed up, then you can spiral out.”

He gently but firmly pulled the clipboard free.

“I'm Eddie Diaz. This is Lena Bosko.”

The nurse scribbled quickly.

“Have you seen a Ronnie Cooper on the list?” Lena asked, her voice thin as she held her side tighter. “Fire captain, station 136.”

“I haven't,” the nurse said, flipping pages. “Head on inside and someone will be with you.”

Lena’s face fell for half a second. She gave Eddie a look that said more than words. He nodded once, then slid his hand to the middle of her back and guided her inside.

The interior of the makeshift hospital was loud and bright. Cots lined the walls. Oxygen tanks hissed. EMTs moved fast between patients.

“Okay, Diaz, you got-” Lena started, then doubled over with a cough. She cleared her throat after a few seconds. “- your wish. I'm here. You don't have to babysit me.”

“Yeah, I get it. If my captain was out there-”

“Coop's not just my captain, okay?” Bosko shot back, her voice hoarse but fierce. “He believed in me. He made me who I am.”

Eddie held her gaze and nodded. He understood that kind of loyalty.

He glanced to the side at a little boy sitting beside his injured mother, gripping her hand like he was afraid she’d disappear.

“He remind you of your son?” Bosko asked.

“I guess a little.” Eddie gave a small shrug, though his mind flickered briefly to Christopher’s face.

Lena’s lips twitched into a faint smile.

Then she started coughing again. This time it didn’t stop.

It was dry at first, then deeper. Each cough made her flinch. She pressed her hand harder into her ribs, face flushing red as she struggled to pull air in between spasms.

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Lena?”

She bent forward suddenly, knees giving out beneath her.

“Bosko!” Eddie dropped with her, catching her before she hit the ground hard. He lowered her carefully, already scanning the room. “I need help over here!”

No one responded immediately. The noise around them swallowed his voice.

He forced himself to focus. He tilted her chin slightly, checking her airway. Her breathing was shallow and fast.

“D-Diaz!” Lena wheezed.

“Bosko, where hurts? What’re you feeling?”

“Ch-chest.”

Her breaths were getting shorter, more panicked.

Eddie’s brain moved fast. Broken ribs. Increasing pain. Now respiratory distress.

“Pneumothorax from your ribs,” he said, mostly to himself. “They might’ve punctured a lung.”

He looked up again, voice louder. “Help! Firefighter down!”

Lena’s head tipped back slightly. Her eyes fluttered.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” Eddie said, gripping her shoulder. “Stay with me.”

Her breathing became labored, uneven. A wet, rattling sound started under each inhale. Then she went limp.

“Lena!” Eddie rolled her carefully onto her back, fingers at her neck, trying to find a pulse.

A nurse finally rushed over and dropped to her knees beside them. “What’s happening?”

“Pneumothorax,” Eddie said, his voice tight but controlled. “Broken ribs. I think they’ve punctured a lung. We need to do a chest tube.”

Lena’s body jerked once with a harsh cough, then stilled.

Eddie reached for an oxygen mask from a nearby cart and pressed it over her face. “Bosko, stay with me! I need you to stay with me!”

The nurse pressed two fingers against Lena’s carotid artery, eyes narrowing in concentration.

“No pulse.”

The words hit like a punch.

“Start compressions,” the nurse ordered sharply.

Eddie didn’t hesitate. He repositioned his hands at the center of her chest and began compressions, counting under his breath, pushing hard and fast. He felt the unstable give beneath his palms, knew her ribs were already compromised, but he didn’t stop.

“Come on,” he muttered. “Come on, Lena.”

Another nurse arrived with a crash cart. Pads were slapped onto her chest. Someone cut away her shirt. 

“Charging.”

Eddie pulled back as the nurse delivered the shock. Lena’s body jolted off the ground, then fell back flat.

“Resume compressions.”

Eddie went back in immediately, arms already burning. He kept his rhythm steady, sweat dripping down his temple.

“Bag her,” someone said.

A mask was sealed over her face, oxygen forced into her lungs between compressions.

“Still no pulse,” the nurse called out.

“Charge again.”

Shock.

Her body arched, then dropped.

“Come on,” Eddie said through clenched teeth, pushing harder. “You’re not done. Not yet.”

He thought of her climbing that Ferris wheel. Of her smirking about free climbing. Of the way she’d talked about Cooper. 

Another pulse check. Silence.

The nurse looked up at the doctor who had just arrived.

The doctor’s eyes moved over the scene quickly, calculating. “Time?”

“Three minutes.”

“Continue.”

They worked her. Shocked her again. Compressions. Oxygen. Needle decompression attempted at her chest to relieve the pressure. Air hissed out, but it wasn’t enough.

“Still no pulse.”

Eddie’s arms were shaking now, but he didn’t stop until the doctor touched his shoulder.

“Firefighter,” the doctor said firmly. “That’s enough.”

Eddie froze mid-compression.

“No,” he said immediately, shaking his head. “No, we can- we can keep going.”

The doctor’s expression didn’t change. “She had a tension pneumothorax. It likely progressed before she got here. We’ve been at this for over ten minutes.”

Eddie stared down at her. Her face was still. The fight that had been there minutes ago was gone.

“She was talking,” he said quietly, like that should change something. “She was just-”

“I’m sorry.”

The words didn’t fix anything.

Eddie slowly sat back on his heels, chest heaving. His hands were slick with sweat. The chaos of the hospital continued around them, but it felt muted now. He looked at Lena’s face, at the stubborn set of her jaw even in death.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, not sure if he was talking to her or to Cooper. Then he forced himself to stand, because there were still people who needed him. 

The doctor who’d came over walked back to Eddie.

“Are you a Paramedic?”

Eddie was still staring at Lena when the question registered. He dragged his eyes up slowly. His chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped wire around it.

He pursed his lips and shook his head.

“No, but I was a medic in the service.” Eddie said, his voice cracking.

The words felt small compared to what had just happened on the floor in front of him.

The doctor gave a short nod, already moving, already thinking three steps ahead.

“In case you couldn't tell, we are severely shorthanded.” The doctor motioned around the room.

Eddie followed his gesture. Cots were filling up faster than they could clear them. Patients lined the walls. Volunteers hovered, unsure where to jump in. A nurse was trying to calm a woman who kept asking where her husband was. Another EMT was struggling to lift a patient onto a stretcher without enough hands.

“Any chance that you could-”

Eddie nodded before the doctor could finish. He licked his lips, tasting salt and something metallic.

“Yeah, sure, just point me where to wash up.”

The doctor gestured toward a row of portable sinks set up against the far wall. “Over there. Grab fresh gloves and meet me in triage.”

Eddie nodded again.

He looked down at Bosko just as the nurses carefully transferred her onto a gurney. They moved with practiced efficiency, but there was still a gentleness to it. A sheet was pulled up over her torso.

For a second, the noise in the room faded.

She’d been upright an hour ago. Climbing a Ferris wheel. Smirking at him.

He stepped closer and reached out, squeezing Bosko’s shoulder once. It was firm. Final.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured under his breath.

Then he forced himself to turn away.

He walked to the sinks on legs that felt heavier than they should. He scrubbed his hands hard. He scrubbed longer than necessary, trying to shake the image of her eyes going still.

He grabbed a fresh pair of gloves and pulled them on, snapping the latex into place. He rolled his shoulders once, steadying his breathing. There wasn’t time to stand still.

The doctor caught his eye from across the room and jerked his chin toward a cluster of patients being wheeled in.

“Over here!”

Eddie moved. He stepped into triage like he’d done it a hundred times before, voice steady even if his chest wasn’t. He checked pulses. Assessed breathing. Called out vitals. Adjusted oxygen masks. He fell into the rhythm of it because that was the only way to survive it.

The 118 continued checking on their patients while Bobby stayed a few steps back, scanning everything at once. He could feel the seconds ticking down in his head. The smell of gasoline was getting stronger, mixing with the sharp bite of carbon monoxide and the salt still clinging to the air.

He’d radioed Dispatch again. Asked for RA units. Asked for anything. Every time the answer came back the same. Nothing available. No help was coming. So they were going to have to be the help.

He’d sent Chimney and Leary off to find anything with wheels that still ran. Bus. Shuttle. Delivery truck. He didn’t care. Hen moved toward him, boots splashing through the thin layer of water. Her face was tight, jaw set.

“Okay, what's our current status?” Bobby asked, keeping his voice low so the patients wouldn’t hear the strain in it.

“About a third of them are semi or unconscious,” Hen said, glancing back at the line of people laid out on the pavement. “Picked up arrhythmia in four, others are coming around. There's a lot of complaints about headaches and dizziness.”

“Casualties?”

“Two so far.”

The words hit, but Bobby didn’t let it show. He nodded once, forcing himself to stay focused.

“Any word on our ride?” Hen asked, looking past him down the street.

“No, it's been 20 minutes since I sent Chimney and John on a bus hunt,” Bobby confirmed. He looked over their patients again. Some were sitting up now, dazed but breathing better. Others were still out cold. “I think it's time we start walking some of these people out of this area.”

“And what about the seven or so that aren't ambulatory?”

“I'll stay here with 'em.” Bobby nodded toward the worst cases.

Hen shook her head immediately. “Uh-uh. That's for me to do.”

Before Bobby could argue, a deep metallic groan cut through the night. They both turned at the same time. The bent streetlamp finally gave out. It tore loose from its base and crashed into the water with a heavy clang. Sparks exploded upward. The thin sheen of gasoline caught instantly, flames racing across the surface like they’d been waiting for an excuse.

Bobby and Hen jumped back, heat licking at their boots. Fire spread fast, skimming across the water in jagged lines.

For half a second, everything felt like it was moving too quickly.

Bobby leaned close to Hen’s ear, keeping his voice controlled. “Why don't you get these people up, get them ready to move?”

Hen nodded and took off without hesitation, clapping her hands to get attention.

“Alright, if you can stand, we’re moving now. Lean on each other if you have to.”

Bobby stepped forward, thumbed his radio. “This is Nash for Chimney and John. Have you found us a bus? Chimney, we need transpo right now.”

“Copy, Skip. Coming in.”

The reply was quick.

A second later, a loud honk echoed down the street.

Bobby squinted into the smoke and saw headlights weaving toward them.

Two mail trucks. 

They rolled to a stop in front of the building, engines rattling. Chimney jumped down from the first one, already grinning despite the situation.

“Neither rain nor snow nor heat nor tsunamis stays this couriers from their appointed rounds.”

Hen shot him a look as she helped two shaky patients toward the van. “Tell me you didn't steal these mail trucks just so you could say that.”

“Hey, these were the only things that weren't swamped, parked in the PO garages, safe and dry. Careful,” Chimney added, reaching to steady a patient climbing into the back.

“Okay, everybody in back,” Bobby called out. “Geary, Forrest, let's load 'em up.”

They moved fast. Fire crept closer behind them, reflections dancing across the metal sides of the trucks. Unconscious patients were carried carefully and laid along the floor inside. The ambulatory ones were helped up the steps, hands gripping onto rails and each other.

Inside the trucks, Hen and Chimney worked quickly, hanging oxygen tanks from hooks, starting IVs with limited supplies. It wasn’t pretty, but it was something.

Bobby stayed outside, eyes on the advancing flames. The tanker down the street was surrounded by flickering orange now.

“We gotta go!” Bobby shouted, circling toward the front of the van.

“One minute!” Hen yelled from inside.

“We don't have a minute. Chimney!”

“Copy that.” Chimney slammed the back door halfway closed and sprinted toward the driver’s seat. “John!” he called over his shoulder, waving the other firefighter toward the second truck.

Hen secured the last oxygen line, then slammed the rear doors shut. She ran around and jumped into the passenger seat.

Bobby climbed into the back of the second van, pulling the door closed behind him just as the engines roared to life.

“Okay, let's hit it!”

Both trucks lurched forward.

They hadn’t gone more than a few yards when the flames reached the tanker.

The explosion hit like a punch to the chest. A deafening boom ripped through the night. The shockwave rocked the trucks violently. Bobby grabbed the inside handle and yanked the door tight, bracing himself as heat washed over the side of the van.

Glass rattled. Metal groaned.

“Hey, Cap, you all okay back there?” Chimney’s voice came through the radio, tight now.

“Yeah, we got kissed a bit, but we're fine,” Bobby answered, forcing steady air into his lungs. He glanced at the patients behind him. Some were crying now. Others still unconscious. “Keep moving.”

“That was way too close,” Chimney muttered, turning to Hen.

“Wait, watch out!” Hen suddenly yelled, hands slamming against the dashboard.

Tires screeched.

The van jolted to a stop. A group of people were walking straight toward them. Fifteen. Maybe twenty. At the front was a woman, maybe mid-forties, clutching what looked like a sleeping child in a red hooded sweater. The child’s face was buried against her shoulder.

They looked exhausted. Lost. Scared.

Chimney turned to Hen, disbelief flickering across his face.

“We're gonna need a bigger mail truck.”

Eddie was really put to work at the VA hospital. He barely had time to think. The moment he stepped into triage, someone pointed him toward a cot. Then another. Then another. His gloves were changed so often his hands felt raw underneath them. He wrapped gauze around cuts that wouldn’t stop bleeding, secured splints, hung IV bags from whatever hooks or makeshift poles they could find.

He didn’t let his mind slow down. If it slowed down, it would drift.

He was crouched in front of a teenage boy now, maybe fourteen, his arm cradled awkwardly against his chest.

“It looks like you're gonna have to get used to being a southpaw for the time being,” Eddie said, adjusting the sling and giving the kid a soft smile. “Best time to work on your change-up and curveball.”

The kid gave a shaky laugh, trying to be brave. “Yeah. Guess so.”

Eddie tightened the last strap and patted his shoulder lightly.

Behind him, sirens wailed again, louder this time as another ambulance rolled in. The sound cut straight through the tent walls. Eddie turned automatically, scanning for the next critical case.

He saw Athena before she saw him.

She was stepping down from the back of the ambulance, standing close to the gurney being pulled out. Her uniform was smeared with blood. Her face too. Her hands were shaking.

Eddie’s stomach dropped.

He squeezed the teenager’s knee once. “You’re good. Stay put.”

Then he stood and jogged toward her.

“Hey, Athena,” Eddie called out, weaving around a stretcher. As he got closer, his eyes locked onto the red streaks on her cheek and fingers. “You okay?”

Athena shook her head quickly, reading the panic in his face.

“It's not my blood.” She pointed toward the man on the gurney. “It's his. Captain Cooper.”

The name hit. Eddie’s steps slowed. He looked down at the man on the stretcher.Oxygen mask strapped tight. Eyes barely open.

He lifted his hand slightly, signaling the paramedics to pause for a second.

He drew in a breath, steadying himself. Then he stepped closer.

“Sir, I’m Eddie Diaz with the 118,” Eddie said, voice respectful but firm. “I’m really sorry sir, but Lena Bosko didn’t make it. She had a tension pneumothorax.”

Cooper’s face shifted almost imperceptibly. His hand twitched against the sheet. He took a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes closed.

Eddie saw it then. The tear pooling at the corner before slipping free.

“She never gave up trying to find you, sir,” Eddie continued, keeping his tone steady. “But her internal injuries were worse than she let on. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Cooper swallowed hard. His jaw clenched.

“Thanks, son.”

It was quiet. Broken.

Eddie nodded once, stepping back so the paramedics could move again. The gurney rolled past him and disappeared into the triage area.

For a second, he just stood there.

Then he turned back to Athena.

“Have you heard from Bobby and the others?” Eddie asked, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been separated from them for hours.”

Athena opened her mouth.

“Eddie-”

“I’ve been so busy here, I’ve not even had a chance to call Buck and Chris,” he said, letting out a small, tired laugh. He shook his head. “Chris is probably in bed now though, and has no doubt conned Buck into reading him another story.”

The image softened his face for a second. It was automatic. Easy.

Athena felt her chest tighten.

“E-Eddie-” she tried again.

But he was already backing away.

“I gotta run, ‘Thena.” He clapped a hand against her shoulder, firm and grateful. “Be careful out there.”

She forced a tight smile. Gave him a stiff nod.

“Yeah. You too.”

He turned and jogged back toward triage without looking back, already calling out to someone about oxygen levels.

Athena stood there for a moment longer than she should have.

Her hands were still shaking. She could have stopped him. Could have said it. Could have told him Buck and Christopher hadn’t been at the house. That no one had heard from them. Instead, she’d let him walk away with that small, hopeful smile on his face. The guilt settled heavy in her chest as she watched him disappear into the crowd.

Buck staggered into the makeshift triage center, ducking under the edge of one of the tents. The place was loud and chaotic. People on stretchers. Volunteers weaving through with supplies. Someone shouting for O negative.

He froze when he saw two nurses doing chest compressions on a patient laid out on a folding table. He stepped closer without meaning to, peering over one nurse’s shoulder.

Brown hair. Too tall. Not Christopher.

He pulled back, chest tightening. He’d already lost so much time at the Cupcakery while they wrapped his arm and tried to sit him down. He shouldn’t have stopped. He shouldn’t have let them.

He stumbled forward again, fingers gripping the red elastic around his neck like it was the only thing holding him upright. The glasses tapped against his chest. He let go and scanned for someone in charge.

He spotted a nurse with a clipboard and pushed toward her.

“Hey, excuse me. I'm looking for a kid.” Buck said, his voice raw enough that she immediately looked up. “He's got brown hair. Chris--Christopher.”

“How old?”

“Um, eight.” Buck nodded, too fast. “Last name is.”

“Christopher Diaz.” The nurse repeated, flipping through the pages. Her finger traced down a column. “No, not here. You may wanna check over there at the black tent.”

Buck’s face crumpled before he could stop it. His eyes filled instantly.

“Isn't that the…”

“The morgue.” The nurse confirmed. “Excuse me.”

She moved on to the next person before he could say anything else.

For a second, he couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone had reached inside him and ripped everything out. The black tent stood a short distance away, zipped flaps, guarded by quiet volunteers.

Christopher couldn’t be in there.

He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to inhale. One breath. Then another. His leg throbbed as he turned toward the tent, each step uneven.

The pain in his body barely registered compared to the thought of unzipping that flap and seeing a small yellow shirt.

Halfway there, he stopped.

He couldn’t do it. Not alone. Not without someone there to tell him it wasn’t real.

He turned away, limping back toward the main tent, vision blurring. He spotted another nurse and asked to borrow her phone. She took one look at the blood on his sleeve, the cuts on his face, and handed it over without question.

“I’ll step over there,” she said quietly.

Buck nodded, staring down at the screen. He had four numbers memorized. Eddie. Shannon. Not options. Bobby. He didn’t even know what he’d say. Maddie.

He dialed with shaking fingers. She picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“H-Hey, it's me.” Buck swallowed hard. His voice cracked anyway.

“Smudge? Thank god! Where are you?” Maddie’s voice was tight. “I don't know this number.”

“I borrowed someone else's phone.” He pressed his eyes shut. “Maddie, I need your help.”

“Okay, tell me what's wrong. Are you hurt?”

“Eddie left Christopher with me this morning. Told us to go do something.” The words kept snagging in his throat. “He thought, you know, doing some activities with him would get me out of the house... out of my head. Maddie, I brought him to the pier.”

There was a sharp inhale on the other end. “Oh, my God, you were there?”

“And I had him. All right, Mads?” Buck rushed out, defensive and desperate all at once. “I had him. I kept him safe. We were-uh...we were on top of the ladder truck, then the water receded…”

“Okay, you're not answering me.” Maddie’s tone sharpened. “Are you injured, bleeding?”

He shook his head even though she couldn’t see him. “No, it doesn't matter. Don't you hear what I am saying?” His voice broke completely. “Christopher is gone.”

“Buck-”

“I've checked the emergency refugee camps at the Promenade, at the high school-”

“Okay, did you check the VA hospital?” Maddie cut in. “The Command Center, you know, on Sawtelle?”

“I'm here now and he…” Buck turned as movement caught his eye.

His heart dropped so fast he thought he might pass out.

Eddie.

At the entrance. Guiding a patient toward a cot. Focused. Steady. Alive and right there.

Buck ducked behind an IV stand.

“Oh, God. God, God, no.”

“What?”

“Eddie's here.” His voice dropped to a whisper.

“Does he know what happened?” Maddie asked.

Buck closed his eyes. Silence.

“Buck, you have to tell him!”

“How?” Buck’s voice rose, cracking. “How do you tell the love of my life and my life long best friend that you lost their son? How can I-” The tears came hard and fast. “”

“No, no, no. He's his father, Buck.” Maddie’s voice was shaking now too. “Okay, you have to tell him that Christopher's missing. Then together, you tell Shannon”

“No, Maddie, I need to keep on looking for him.” Buck sobbed. “I need to find him.”

“Look, you are in no condition to go looking for Christopher by yourself.” Maddie shot back. “I'm coming down there.”

“No, no. Maddie! Maddie!”

The line went dead. Buck lowered the phone slowly.

At that exact moment, two mail vans screeched to a stop outside the tents. The back doors flew open and Bobby jumped down.

“Need some help here!” Bobby yelled.

Eddie started toward them automatically, but then his eyes snagged on Buck standing off to the side, gripping an IV pole like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

“Buck? Wait, Carino, what are you doing here?” Eddie’s voice shifted instantly. He crossed the distance fast. “Are you okay? Wait, where's Christopher?”

He looked around, scanning the tents.

“Eddie…” Buck said.

Eddie’s eyes moved back to him. Took in the dried blood. The cuts. The way Buck was shaking. Then his gaze dropped. To the red elastic around Buck’s neck. To the glasses resting against his chest.

“Why do you have his glasses?”

“We, um…” Buck couldn’t get his tongue to work. “me and Christopher, we were...at the beach, and-um…”

Eddie’s mouth fell open slightly.

“and listen to me, okay? I swear to you... okay, I tried…” Buck pulled the glasses off and pressed them into Eddie’s hands. Eddie took them automatically, staring down at them. His lips pressed tight in a slight pout. His head nodded once. Twice. Tiny movements like he always did when he was trying to hold himself together. “And I just...but I… Eddie, I just don't know how to say it. He--he just--he... he just vanished.”

Neither of them were really looking at each other.

Eddie’s eyes drifted past Buck. Toward the mail trucks. Toward the small crowd climbing out.

His brow pinched.

“Christopher?” he whispered.

He started walking, slow at first, then faster, toward a woman standing near the vans. Mid-forties. Holding a child wrapped in a red hooded sweater.

“Christopher?” Eddie said again, louder.

“Dad!”

Buck’s head snapped toward the sound.

“Oh, my God!” Eddie scooped Christopher up in one motion, pulling him tight against his chest. He buried his face in his son’s hair, holding him like he might disappear again if he loosened his grip.

Buck’s knees nearly buckled.

He let out a shaky, broken laugh as tears streamed down his face, stinging the cut on his cheek.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Eddie kept repeating it to the woman, over and over, pressing kisses into Christopher’s hair.

“You're Buck?” the woman asked, glancing around.

“No, I'm his father, Eddie.” Eddie said, not looking away from his son for more than a heartbeat.

“He was looking for his Buck.”

Buck felt his stomach drop.

“Make a hole!” Chimney’s voice cut through the noise as he and Hen rushed up. “Buck, what happened to you?”

Buck didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He just stared at Eddie and Christopher, alive and wrapped around each other. Bobby stepped into his line of sight.

“Hey.” His voice was soft but tight with worry. He glanced over at Eddie and Chris, then back at his son. “You two okay?”

Buck lifted his eyes to meet his dad’s.

“Yeah Pops, we're” His voice wavered. “We're great.”

And then Buck’s legs gave out. Chimney and Hen caught him before he hit the ground. Bobby dropped down immediately, helping ease him into a seated position.

“Hang in there. Hang in there, son.” Bobby said, brushing his hand through Buck’s hair.

Buck’s breathing came in short, sharp pulls, but his eyes never left Eddie and Christopher. 

Chris was alive. He was safe. And he’d made it back to his dad.

It was almost one in the morning in Boston when Shannon’s phone finally rang.

She hadn't changed out of her clothes from the open house. The lights in Maddie’s house were still on, every lamp casting a warm glow that felt wrong after the day she’d had. Her heels were kicked off somewhere near the couch. She’d been pacing for so long her calves ached.

Eddie’s name lit up the screen.

Her heart jumped into her throat. She answered immediately.

“Eddie?”

“Hey,” he said, and she could hear how tired he was. “Shan.”

She didn’t waste time. “Tell me.”

There was noise behind him. Voices. Movement. It sounded busy.

“Buck and Chris were at the pier when the tsunami hit,” he said carefully.

Her knees nearly gave out. She grabbed the back of a dining chair to steady herself. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay. And?”

“They’re both okay,” he said quickly. “They’re okay.”

Her eyes filled, but she forced herself to stay steady. “Okay how?”

“Chris isn’t hurt,” Eddie said. “He’s being checked out by a doctor right now just to be safe, but it’s mostly bruises. He’s alert. Talking. He was mad I hugged him too tight.”

A shaky laugh escaped her before she could stop it. She pressed her free hand to her mouth and let herself breathe for a second.

“Okay,” she said again, firmer this time. “Okay.”

“I promise you,” Eddie continued, softer now, “he’s okay.”

“I’m getting a flight home in the morning,” she said immediately.

“Shan, you don’t have to rush.”

“Yes, I do,” she replied, not harsh, just certain. “I can’t be on the other side of the country right now. Not after today. I need to see him. And you. And Buck.”

He didn’t argue again. “Okay.”

There was a beat before she asked, “How’s Buck?”

Eddie exhaled slowly. “His face is pretty cut up. Arms and hands too. He’s exhausted. He lost some blood from a cut on his arm because of the blood thinners. Bobby’s with him right now, making sure a doctor looks him over.”

Shannon closed her eyes. “Is he bad?”

“I don’t think it’s anything permanent,” Eddie said. “He’s just… he pushed himself hard. I’m not sure he’s gonna listen to the doctor though. He’s already acting like he can just walk out.”

“Of course he is,” she muttered.

Eddie was quiet for a second, then he said, “Chris told me Buck saved him. After the first wave. Got him up on the ladder truck. Pulled other people up too.”

That didn’t surprise her.

“And then when the water pulled back,” Eddie continued, “Chris fell off the ladder truck into the water. Buck said he turned for a second to help someone and Chris was just gone. He spent the rest of the day looking for him.”

Shannon swallowed hard.

“He cut his arm somewhere in there,” Eddie added. “Was bleeding pretty bad and still didn’t stop.”

She nodded to herself. “That sounds like him.”

“Yeah.”

She was quiet for a moment before asking, “He’s  blaming himself, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said immediately. “He is. But it’s not his fault, Shan. It could’ve happened if you took Chris out. Or me. It was chaos. There was no way to control any of it.”

“I know,” she said softly. “And you know that. But Buck’s not going to see it that way.”

“The team have told him it wasn’t his fault,” Eddie replied.

“Good. Why haven’t you?”

Eddie closed his eyes. “I’ve been with Chris. I wish I could be with both but Chris comes first. Buck knows that. He feels the same.”

She sat down slowly at the table, finally still after hours of pacing. “Well make sure you tell him that it wasn’t his fault and that he knows how much we trust him. Eds, outside of you and me, Buck is the person I trust most with Christopher. You know that.”

“Shan,” Eddie said without hesitation, “including us, there’s no one I trust with Chris more than Buck.”

Her throat tightened. “I know.”

“He’d never let anything happen to him on purpose,” Eddie said, his voice rough around the edges. “Chris is ours by blood, but he’s Buck’s by choice.”

“I know,” she repeated. “You need to make sure he knows that. That we trust him. That we love him. Because he’s probably sitting there thinking he failed us.”

Eddie didn’t answer right away, and that told her everything.

“He tried to hand me Chris’s glasses,” Eddie said quietly. “Like that was all he had left.”

Shannon shut her eyes again. “Oh, Buck.”

“He thought I was going to look at him differently,” Eddie admitted.

“You make sure he understands you don’t,” she said. “You tell him he’s your forever. Because if he’s in his head right now, that’s where he’s going. Worst case scenario.”

Eddie let out a breath. “He is my forever.”

“I know he is.”

“I’ve got a ring,” Eddie said after a moment, his voice dropping lower. “Abuelo’s ring. I’ve had it for a while. I was just waiting for the right time.”

Despite everything, Shannon smiled. “Of course you do.”

“I didn’t want it to feel rushed,” he said. “But today…” He trailed off.

“Today reminded you,” she finished for him.

“Yeah.”

She could picture it clearly. Buck’s face when he realized Chris was safe. The way he would have fallen apart afterward.

“He’s going to cry so hard,” she said gently.

Eddie huffed a tired laugh. “Probably.”

She let the silence sit for a second before asking, “How are you?”

There was a pause.

“I’m okay,” he said, and she could hear that he meant it, but also that he was running on fumes. “It’s been a long day.”

“You don’t have to be the strong one all the time,” she told him.

“I know.”

“You sure?”

Another breath. “I was scared,” he admitted. “When I saw the glasses around Buck’s neck. I thought…” He stopped.

“I know,” she said quietly.

“But Chris is okay. Buck’s okay. We’re all here.”

She nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “I’m coming home in the morning.”

“I’ll pick you up from the airport,” he said.

“Deal.”

“And Shan?”

“Yeah?”

“He never stopped looking.”

“I know,” she said again. “That’s why I trust him.”

They stayed on the line a little longer, neither of them in a hurry to hang up.

“I love you,” Eddie said finally.

“Love you too,” she replied. “Tell our boys that I’m on my way.”

“I will.”

When the call ended, Shannon sat there in the quiet house, phone still in her hand.

For the first time all day, she felt like she could actually breathe.

The door clicked shut behind the doctor, leaving the room quiet except for the distant noise of the hospital moving around them.

Buck sat on the edge of the bed, flexing his freshly bandaged arm carefully. The deeper cut had been stitched and wrapped cleanly. Smaller cuts on his face had been cleaned. He looked worn down more than anything. Pale. Hollowed out by the day.

The doctor had cleared him. No concussion. No internal injuries. Just blood loss and exhaustion. Rest. Fluids. Take it easy, especially on the blood thinners.

Buck swung his legs off the bed like he was ready to leave.

Bobby watched him from the chair near the wall.

“You’re not even going to pretend to listen to the part about rest, are you?” Bobby asked.

Buck didn’t look up. “I am resting. I’m sitting.”

“That’s not what he meant.”

“I’m going home tonight,” Buck said, simple and final.

Bobby studied him for a second and then nodded once. “I’m not gonna stop you. Eddie or your sister might though.”

He stood and moved closer, stopping a few feet in front of him. Up close, the cuts on Buck’s face looked worse. Red and raw. The birthmark above his eyebrow stood out against the bruising.

“You’re not coming back to work yet,” Bobby said quietly.

Buck’s jaw tightened. There it was.

“Dad.”

“I need you to rest longer before we even talk about it,” Bobby continued. “Today proved that.”

Buck finally looked up at him. “Today proved I can still do the job.”

“I’ve never been in any doubt that you can do the job. But what today proved you’ll push yourself until you drop,” Bobby replied.

Buck huffed, frustrated but too tired to argue properly. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Kid,” Bobby said, not harsh, just steady. “You’re exhausted. You lost blood. You’re on medication that makes that worse.”

“I still did what I had to do.”

Bobby’s expression softened slightly at that. “I know you did.”

There was a pause.

“We haven’t talked,” Bobby said.

Buck looked away again. “You told me I couldn’t come back.”

“I told you you weren’t cleared,” Bobby corrected. “And you’ve been avoiding my calls since.”

Buck didn’t deny it.

Bobby exhaled slowly. “Smudge, when Athena called and said your house was empty and nobody could reach you, I thought…” He stopped, swallowing. “I thought I’d lost you.”

That made Buck’s head snap back up.

“I couldn’t get you on the phone, neither could Maddie, Athena or Shannon,” Bobby continued. “Your house was empty. No one knew where you were. I was terrified, Smudge.”

Buck’s shoulders sagged, whatever was holding him upright finally cracking.

“I had him,” Buck said suddenly, voice trembling. “I had Chris. I got him on the ladder truck. I got other people up there too. We were safe. And then the water pulled back and I turned for a second to help someone and he was just gone. The one person I should’ve been helping.”

His breathing hitched.

“I lost him,” he whispered. “I lost Christopher.”

Bobby stepped forward without hesitation and pulled his son into his arms.

Buck didn’t fight it this time. He folded in, hands gripping the back of Bobby’s shirt like he needed something solid.

“I’m a screw up,” Buck sobbed. “I always screw it up. Eddie trusted me. Shannon trusted me. I promised I’d keep him safe.”

“You are not a screw up,” Bobby said firmly, holding him tight.

“He fell,” Buck choked out. “He fell into the water and I couldn’t see him. I thought I was going to have to tell Eddie his son drowned because I wasn’t fast enough.”

“But you didn’t stop,” Bobby said.

Buck’s breath came in uneven pulls. “I didn’t stop. I looked everywhere..”

“I know,” Bobby replied. 

Buck shook his head against his father’s shoulder. “I need to pack my things. I hope Mads and Xan don’t mind me moving back in.”

Bobby raised his eyebrow, but kept his arm around his son. “Why would you be moving back in with Maddie and Xander?”

“Because Eddie’s going to break up with me.” Buck stated simply.

Bobby pulled back just enough to look at him. “What?”

“I lost his kid, Dad” Buck said, eyes glassy. “How does he not walk away after that?”

“Buck, he’s not walking away,” Bobby said immediately.

“You don’t know that.”

“I saw the way he looked at you,” Bobby said. “That man was scared out of his mind. Not just for Christopher. For you.”

Buck’s face crumpled again.

“You did everything right,” Bobby continued. “You got him out of the first surge. You kept him safe as long as you could. And when he fell, you didn’t quit. You fought to find him. That’s what family does. We fight to find our way back to each other.”

Buck let out a broken sound that was half sob, half relief.

“You didn’t give up on him,” Bobby said quietly. “And he didn’t give up on you. You saved him, but I think you need to realise that he’s saving you too.”

Buck’s grip loosened slightly as his breathing started to even out.

Bobby cupped his face carefully, mindful of the cuts. He brushed his thumb under Buck’s eye and then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the birthmark above his eyebrow. He followed it with another kiss into his hair, holding him close again for a moment.

“I love you, Kid,” Bobby murmured.

Buck nodded weakly against him.

The door suddenly opened hard enough to hit the wall.

“Buck?”

Maddie rushed in, eyes wide, scanning the room until she saw her brother in their father’s arms. She crossed the space quickly.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, reaching for him.

Buck set a black duffel bag on his and Eddie’s bed and stood there for a second, staring at it like it might disappear if he waited long enough. It didn’t.

He moved slowly, opening drawers, pulling out jeans, t shirts, underwear. Each step made his leg throb. He’d pushed it too far yesterday and he knew it. The dull ache had settled deep overnight and now flared every time he shifted his weight.

He deserved it. He’d lost Chris.

The thought hit him again, sharp and heavy. He’d felt Christopher’s weight in his arms. Then he hadn’t. He’d turned and the truck had been empty. That split second kept replaying in his head on a loop. The splash. The space where Chris should have been.

Eddie had stayed overnight at Presbyterian with Chris while they ran tests and kept him for observation. Buck had refused to go. Eddie had argued, tried to get him in the car, but Buck couldn’t sit in that hospital room pretending he hadn’t let go at the worst possible moment.

He’d failed Christopher. He’d failed Eddie. He’d failed Shannon.

He folded a sweatshirt and shoved it into the bag harder than necessary. In his head, he’d already made the decision. He’d be gone before they got back. Eddie wouldn’t have to look at him. Wouldn’t have to pretend it was fine.

He zipped the duffel halfway and grabbed his toiletry bag from the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror looked rough. Bruises along his cheekbone. Cuts pulling tight when he moved his face. Eyes bloodshot from no sleep.

Good.

He walked into the living room to grab his meds from the coffee table just as the front door opened.

“Hey, Buck.”

Buck froze. Christopher moved carefully into the room, sneakers squeaking faintly, crutches clicking on the floor with each step. He came straight toward Buck and pressed the side of his head into Buck’s stomach in a hug.

Buck’s breath caught.

“Good morning, Buck.” Eddie’s voice followed, steady and warm.

“Hey-hey, buddy.” Buck stuttered out, his hand hovering before it settled on the back of Chris’ head. He kept his eyes down, focused on the red elastic holding Chris’ glasses in place instead of looking at Eddie.

Eddie stepped inside fully, shutting the door behind him. His gaze landed on the duffel on the couch. His eyebrows scrunched as he took it in, then he set the backpack in his hands down beside it.

“He’s had his morning snack already,” Eddie started, like this was any normal day, ignoring the look on Buck’s face. He turned to the backpack and unzipped it. “We’ll need to figure out his midday snack though. Oh, and I picked up two coloring books and a bunch of Legos.”

Chris peeled away from Buck and made his way toward the dining table, moving carefully, climbing into his chair to get his tablet.

Eddie leaned slightly toward Buck, lowering his voice.

“Between us, you know he's never built anything that kinda looks like anything. He just likes sticking things together.”

Buck blinked, thrown by the normalcy. Eddie stopped talking and looked at him properly now.

“We should order some pizza for lunch. I’ll even order you guys that gross Hawaiian pizza I know you both love so much.” Eddie moved closer to his boyfriend. “And if I were you, I'd eat a couple extra slices. You look like you're wasting away to nothing.”

“Eddie-” Buck stuttered, throat tight.

“I will say, honestly, you being laid up is working out for us.” Eddie smirked. “It means I know where you both are. As long as you stay home. It’ll be handy for tomorrow when I’ve got a shift. Your Dad’s given me the day off today to be with my boys, but you know… the city’s a little worse for wear.”

Buck stepped forward, the movement stiff. The cuts on his cheeks pulled as his brow pinched. “You want me to watch Christopher?”

“It's easy. He's not very fast.” Eddie said with a shrug.

“After everything that happened?”

His voice cracked on the last word. The image flashed again. Chris slipping. The water pulling him under.

“Baby, a natural disaster happened.” Eddie said softly.

The words settled between them.

“Now, do you wanna tell me why there’s a duffel on the couch with your clothes in it?”

Buck swallowed. “I-I-I thought -”

“You thought what?” Eddie said, raising his eyebrow, but his tone gentle. “I would break up with you? Kick you out of our home?”

“How can you even look at me Eds? I lost him, Eddie. I lost your son!” Buck said, his voice low and shaky.

Chris’ tablet made soft game noises in the background.

“No, You saved him.” Eddie turned, pointing at Chris, who was already playing on his tablet. “That's how he remembers it. And now, it's our turn to do the same for you.”

Buck’s chest tightened. He looked at Chris, safe and dry and completely unaware of the storm still raging inside Buck’s head.

Buck turned slowly to look at Eddie, his jaw set.

“I was supposed to look out for him.” Buck’s voice cracked.

“And what, you think you failed?” Eddie asked, his tone slightly sarcastic. “I failed that kid more times than I care to count, and I'm his father. Same with Shan. But we love him enough to never stop trying, and I know you do too.”

Buck’s face softened despite himself. His shoulders dropped a fraction.

“I’ve already spoken to Shannon and we both agree on the same thing, Carino,” Eddie said, stepping closer. He placed his hand on Buck’s shoulder, his thumb finding the groove of Buck’s clavicle like it always did when he was grounding him. “Buck, there's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you. And that includes me and Shannon.”

The words hit hard.

“Eddie-”

“No Buck.” Eddie said, his voice firm but tender. “You’re it for us. You need to know that by now.”

Buck nodded, lips pressing together to keep them from trembling.

The guilt was still there. The image of Chris slipping under the water would not disappear just because Eddie said the right thing. But the certainty in Eddie’s eyes didn’t waver.

“Okay, well I’m gonna give him a quick bath.” Eddie said, turning toward the dining room.

He stopped halfway, turned back, and smiled softly at Buck. Then he closed the distance in a few quick steps. His hands came up to either side of Buck’s face, careful of the bruises. He pulled him into a soft kiss.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t playful. It was steady and sure.

When Eddie pulled back, he rested his forehead against Buck’s and held there, breathing him in.

“While I’m doing that,” Eddie whispered softly. “-Can you start unpacking your bag? You’re not going anywhere.”

Buck nodded once.

Eddie stepped away and walked toward Chris.

“But next time you guys go out together,” Eddie said, lifting Chris onto his hip. “Maybe try going to the zoo? Something inland?”

Buck let out a wet chuckle he hadn’t meant to make. It caught in his throat but it was real. Eddie and Chris disappeared down the hall toward the bathroom.

Eddie paused one more time and looked back at Buck.

“Thank you,” Eddie said, his voice soft again. “For not giving up.”

Buck stood there in the middle of the living room, the half packed duffel on the couch behind him, and let that sink in.

Chapter Text

By the time Eddie had finished bathing Chris and helped him into fresh clothes, Buck had done what he’d been told. The duffel was unpacked. The bedroom didn’t look like someone had been about to disappear from it.

Chris moved carefully into the living room, blue crutches steady against the hardwood. Buck’s eyes went straight to the faint bruise on Chris’ cheek. It wasn’t big. It wasn’t dramatic. But it was there, a quiet reminder. Buck felt it like a punch to the chest.

“Alright, boys,” Eddie said, clapping his hands together once. “Put your shoes on. We need to leave in a few minutes.”

Buck looked up from the couch, frowning. “Leave where?”

“Airport,” Eddie said simply.

Chris’s head lifted. “Mom’s flying home.”

Buck blinked. “Sh-she is?”

Eddie gave a small nod. “Yeah. She wanted to see Chris and you with her own eyes.”

Buck stood up slowly. “Eds, I don’t think-”

“Nope.”

Buck pulled his head back, confused. “Nope?” he repeated.

“She’s your best friend, Carino,” Eddie said, stepping closer. “She wants to make sure you’re both okay.”

“Eddie, I-”

Eddie closed the space between them while Chris carefully lowered himself onto the couch to deal with his sneakers. “No, Buck. A natural disaster happened,” Eddie said, cupping Buck’s face in his hands. His thumbs rested just below the cuts on Buck’s cheeks. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”

“But it didn’t,” Buck said quietly, brow wrinkling. “I lost your son.”

“We’ve been through this, Carino,” Eddie replied, not irritated, just steady. “You saved him. And Shan knows that. I know that. And we need you to see that too.”

Buck shook his head. “Eddie, I don’t know if I can look her in the eye after what happened.”

“Baby, I get why you’re blaming yourself. I really do,” Eddie said, voice soft but sure. “But you saved our son. You never stopped looking for him, and that’s all we care about.”

Chris, still focused on his shoes, looked up briefly. “Buck, can you hand me the other shoe? I dropped it,” he asked politely.

Buck moved automatically, crouching to pass it to him. His fingers brushed Chris’s for a second and he had to swallow past the lump in his throat.

Eddie watched them both, then leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Buck’s lips. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t playful. It was grounding.

“So, get your shoes on,” Eddie said when he pulled back. “Shan’s flight gets in in two hours, and we’re going to that little coffee shop you love. The one with the mocha and the everything bagels you’re obsessed with.”

Buck sighed, long and shaky. “Okay.”

“Dad,” Chris said from the couch, wiggling his foot a little. “Can you tie my shoe please?”

Eddie chuckled and crouched down. “Of course, Mijo.”

Chris watched him closely. “Can I get a hot chocolate when we get there?”

“You sure can,” Eddie said, tightening the knot.

“And a cake pop please?” Chris added, hopeful but still polite.

Eddie smiled. “Deal.”

Buck stood and walked down the hallway to grab his hoodie, pausing just before the bedroom door. He looked back at them. Eddie tying shoes like nothing in the world had changed. Chris sitting there, glasses slightly crooked, blue crutches leaning against the couch. His boys.

He pulled on his hoodie and slid his shoes on, then came back out.

Eddie stood and smiled at him. “You ready to go?”

Buck nodded once. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Eddie stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Buck’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Buck melted into it without thinking, pressing his face into Eddie’s neck. Eddie kissed him again, softer this time, lingering just a second longer.

When he pulled back, he smiled at Buck, then turned to Chris. “You good, bud?”

“Yup,” Chris said brightly, pushing himself up carefully and grabbing his crutches. “I’m ready.”

The three of them headed outside. Eddie locked the door while Buck stayed close to Chris as they made their way down the path. Buck’s eyes kept scanning, like he was waiting for something else to go wrong. His chest felt tight. Too tight.

Eddie jogged a step to catch up and slipped his fingers through Buck’s, squeezing once. It was quick, reassuring, and then he let go as they reached the car.

He helped Chris into the backseat, guiding his legs in carefully and making sure the crutches were laid securely on the floor beside him. “Comfortable?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Chris said. “Do you think Mom will cry?”

“Probably,” Eddie said with a small smile.

“That’s okay,” Chris replied seriously. “I’ll hug her.”

Buck slid into the front seat and closed the door, the sound feeling louder than usual. He closed his eyes for a second and focused on breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth. He could still see the water when he blinked. He could still feel the moment his arms had been empty.

Eddie got in beside him and started the engine. He glanced over once, taking in Buck’s tight jaw and clenched hands.

“We’re okay,” Eddie said quietly.

Buck nodded, even if he wasn’t sure he believed it yet.

They were standing just outside the arrivals doors when the stream of passengers started to thicken. Chris had a smear of chocolate on the corner of his mouth from his cake pop and a half empty hot chocolate cup in his hand. His blue crutches were tucked under his arms, and he kept bouncing slightly on his toes, scanning every face that came through the sliding doors.

“Do you see her?” he asked for the fourth time.

“Not yet,” Eddie said, one hand resting lightly at Chris’s back to steady him. “She’ll come through that door.”

Buck stood on Chris’s other side, shoulders tight, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. He hadn’t said much since they’d parked. He’d just watched the doors, jaw set.

The doors slid open again. Shannon stepped through with her carry on in one hand and her purse over her shoulder, scanning the crowd. She looked tired. Pale. But the second her eyes landed on Chris, everything else dropped away.

“Christopher.”

Chris didn’t even bother with the crutches. He dropped them so they clattered against the tile and moved as fast as he could toward her.

“Mom!”

She closed the distance in seconds, wrapping him up tight in a hug. She buried her face in his hair, her hands cradling the back of his head like she needed to make sure he was solid and real.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, her voice breaking. “Oh my God, baby.”

“I’m okay,” Chris said into her shoulder. “I’m okay.”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, hands framing his face. Her fingers brushed the small bruise on his cheek and she winced.

“Does that hurt?” she asked softly.

“It’s just a little one,” Chris said quickly. “I’m fine. The doctor said I’m fine.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks anyway. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, then another to his temple. “You scared me,” she admitted.

“I know,” Chris said gently, like he was the one comforting her. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said firmly, pulling him back into another tight hug.

Eddie stepped forward and picked up Chris’s crutches from the floor, handing them off to Buck without a word. Buck took them automatically, eyes fixed on Shannon and Chris.

After a long moment, Shannon stood, keeping one arm around Chris’s shoulders. She looked at Eddie first. Their eyes met, something quiet and understanding passing between them. Then she looked at Buck.

He looked like he was bracing for impact.

She crossed the small space between them without hesitating and pulled him into a hug.

Buck froze for half a second before his arms came up around her. Careful. Gentle.

“Thank you,” she said into his shoulder, her voice thick. “For not giving up.”

Buck swallowed hard. He nodded once against her hair. “I’ll never give up on him.”

Shannon pulled back just enough to look at him. Her eyes were red, but steady.

“I know you won’t,” she said.

Eddie smiled softly at that, relief written all over his face.

Shannon reached for Chris again, and this time she scooped him up fully, settling him on her hip the way she used to when he was smaller. He wrapped his arms around her neck without hesitation.

“I missed you,” Chris said.

“I missed you more,” she replied, kissing his cheek right over the bruise.

Eddie reached for her luggage before she could protest. “I’ve got it.”

She gave him a grateful look. “Thank you.”

They started toward the exit together, Shannon carrying Chris, Eddie rolling her suitcase behind them. Buck walked at her side, still quiet but no longer standing apart.

As the doors slid open and the outside air hit them, Chris rested his head against Shannon’s shoulder, completely content.

Shannon glanced sideways at Buck and bumped her shoulder lightly against his arm.

“You look terrible,” she said softly.

Buck let out a small breath of a laugh. “Yeah. I’ve heard.”

Her hand found his for a brief squeeze before she shifted Chris higher on her hip.

They walked out of the airport together.

The adrenaline had worn off hours ago, leaving behind that heavy, bone deep exhaustion that made everything feel slower. Eddie was in the bedroom, pulling back the comforter, when Buck stepped into the room, his gait slow and careful.

He was halfway through tugging his shirt over his head when Eddie looked up.

The fabric cleared and Eddie froze. Buck’s back was a mess of bruises. Dark patches spreading across his shoulder blades, along his ribs, down his side. Some were deep purple already. Others were still red and angry. There were smaller marks along his torso too, finger shaped, blunt force, the kind that came from being thrown into things.

Eddie’s chest tightened.

“Buck.”

Buck glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

Eddie stepped closer without answering. He reached out carefully, his fingers hovering before they made contact with the skin just below one of the worst bruises.

“Jesus,” he breathed.

Buck shifted his weight, uncomfortable but not pulling away. “It looks worse than it feels.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. He let his fingertips trace lightly over another mark along Buck’s ribs. “I love you,” he said quietly.

Buck huffed a small breath. “I know.”

“I love you,” Eddie repeated, moving closer, his hand flattening gently against Buck’s back.

“I love you too,” Buck replied, softer.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked.

Buck nodded once. “I’m achy. But I’m okay.”

Eddie didn’t look convinced. His thumb brushed along a bruise near Buck’s hip and Buck flinched before he could stop himself.

“That hurt,” Eddie said.

“I said achy,” Buck muttered.

Eddie stepped around in front of him and looked at his torso. There were more bruises there, scattered across his stomach and along his side. He swallowed hard and reached up to cup Buck’s face for a second.

“I love you,” he said again.

Buck’s expression softened despite the tiredness in his eyes. “You’ve said.”

“I’m gonna keep saying it.”

Buck let out a quiet breath.

“When did you last take your painkillers?” Eddie asked.

Buck hesitated.

“Buck.”

“Dinner,” he admitted.

“That was five hours ago.”

“I’m fine.”

Eddie shot him a look. “You’re not fine. You’re bruised head to toe and you haven’t taken anything.”

Buck opened his mouth to argue, then closed it when Eddie didn’t budge.

“Sit,” Eddie said gently, guiding him toward the edge of the bed.

Buck sat.

Eddie grabbed the bottle and a glass of water from the nightstand. He handed both over and waited.

Buck rolled his eyes faintly but took the pills. “Bossy.”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied. “Deal with it.”

He waited until Buck swallowed, then reached for the clean shirt and sleep shorts folded at the end of the bed.

“Arms up,” Eddie said.

Buck obeyed without complaint this time. Eddie helped him into the shirt slowly, careful not to tug too hard over the sore spots. Then he handed him the shorts, letting Buck carefully put on his own shorts.

When Buck finished, he looked smaller somehow. Worn out. Eddie slid into bed beside him and turned off the lamp. The room fell into soft darkness. For a few seconds, it was quiet. Then a scream tore down the hallway.

“Dad!”

Eddie was out of bed before he even registered moving.

He ran down the hall and into Chris’s room. Chris was sitting up in bed, breathing hard, eyes wide and unfocused.

“I’m here,” Eddie said immediately, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m here, buddy.”

Chris blinked at him, still half in the nightmare. “The water,” he whispered.

Eddie pulled him into his chest. “You’re home. You’re safe.”

Chris clung to him, small hands gripping the front of his shirt. His breathing was shaky.

“Can I sleep with you?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Eddie said without hesitation. “Of course you can.”

He lifted Chris carefully, crutches forgotten on the floor, and carried him back down the hall.

Buck was sitting up in bed when they came back in, eyes worried but steady.

“Nightmare?” he asked softly.

Chris nodded against Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie climbed into bed and settled Chris between them. Buck immediately shifted closer, one arm sliding carefully around Chris’s back.

Chris curled toward Buck first, pressing his face into Buck’s chest.

“I’ve got you,” Buck murmured.

Eddie wrapped an arm around both of them, pulling them in tight.

“I love you,” he said quietly into the dark.

Chris’s breathing started to even out.

Buck pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Chris’s head.

“I’m right here,” Eddie added, his hand resting at the back of Buck’s neck. The house was quiet again. This time, none of them were alone.

The doorbell rang just after noon. Buck was on the couch in the living room, half watching the TV and half staring at nothing. Chris was down the hall in his bedroom, the soft click of Lego bricks carrying through the house.

Buck pushed himself up carefully and opened the front door.

Xander rushed in first. “Uncle Buck!”

He wrapped his arms around Buck’s middle without hesitation. Buck sucked in a quiet breath at the pressure on his ribs but hugged him back anyway.

“Hey, buddy,” Buck said, managing a smile.

Maddie stepped inside right after him. “Okay, careful,” she said gently. “He’s still sore.”

Xander pulled back and studied Buck’s face. “You have a lot of scratches,” he observed.

“Yeah,” Buck said. “I know.”

Bobby came in last and shut the door. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, Pops.”

“Xander,” Maddie said, nudging her son toward the hallway. “Go see if Chris is in his room.”

“Okay!” Xander called, already moving. “Chris!”

“In here!” Chris answered from down the hall.

A bedroom door opened and shut as the boys disappeared inside.

The house quieted again.

“Where’s Eddie?” Maddie asked.

“Pharmacy,” Buck replied. “Picking up my prescription.”

Maddie nodded once.

They moved into the living room. Buck sat back down, and Bobby and Maddie took seats across from him. For a moment, nobody said anything.

“How are you actually feeling?” Maddie asked finally.

“I’m fine,” Buck said automatically.

She tilted her head. “Eddie mentioned the bruises this morning.”

Buck sighed. “He didn’t need to do that.”

“He’s worried,” she said. “So are we.”

Bobby leaned forward slightly. “Can I see?”

Buck hesitated, then nodded. He pulled off his hoodie and lifted his shirt slowly, turning just enough for them to see.

Maddie’s expression shifted immediately. Bobby’s face went tight.

The bruises were dark and uneven, spreading across Buck’s back and sides. Some had deepened overnight.

Bobby stood and stepped closer. His hands hovered for a second before settling lightly against Buck’s shoulders.

“Buck…” he said quietly, his voice thick. “That looks painful.”

Buck shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not great.”

Bobby swallowed hard. “I hate that you went through that.”

Buck didn’t respond. He just pulled his shirt back down.

Maddie cleared her throat. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“Yeah,” Buck admitted. “But it’s manageable.”

Bobby went back to his seat, still studying him. “The chief still wants you on light duty,” he said after a moment.

Buck looked up. “What?”

“Light duty,” Bobby repeated. “I assume it’ll be paperwork and reports. Probably some fire marshal work.”

Buck’s shoulders stiffened. “I don’t want light duty.”

“I know, Kid,” Bobby said calmly.

“I’m not a desk guy.”

“No, you’re not,” Bobby agreed. “But you’re also not cleared to go interior on blood thinners.”

Buck looked away, jaw tight.

“Think about it,” Bobby said gently. “It’s temporary. Gives your body time to heal. Gives the doctors time to adjust the dosage.”

Buck didn’t answer right away.

“It’s not taking you off the team,” Bobby added. “It’s just a different lane for a little while.”

Buck exhaled slowly. “I’ll think about it.”

That was as close to agreement as they were going to get.

From down the hall came raised voices.

“Xander, you’re pushing it too hard!” Chris protested.

“I’m not!” Xander insisted.

“It’s gonna break!” Chris shot back.

A loud clatter followed.

“I told you!” Chris said, half exasperated, half amused.

Maddie’s mouth twitched. “How’s Chris really doing?”

Buck’s expression softened immediately. “He woke up three times last night,” he said. “Nightmares. He ended up in bed with me and Eddie.”

Maddie’s face fell. “Oh, honey.”

“He’s okay during the day,” Buck continued. “But when it’s quiet, it catches up to him.”

“And you?” Bobby asked quietly.

Buck shrugged again, heavier this time. “Didn’t sleep much.”

Bobby leaned forward and rested his hand at the back of Buck’s neck, steady and warm. “You don’t have to pretend you’re fine.”

Buck swallowed and nodded.

From the hallway, Chris called, “It’s okay! We can rebuild it!”

Maddie smiled faintly at the sound.

Buck listened for a second, then leaned back into the couch.

“He’s okay,” he said quietly. He sounded like he was trying to believe it.

The house was finally quiet. Chris was at Shannon’s for the night. Maddie, Bobby and Xander had gone home. The TV played silently in the background, flickering light across the walls. Buck was stretched out on the couch, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting carefully against his ribs. He hadn’t moved much in the last ten minutes.

Eddie came out of the kitchen with a glass of water and set it down on the coffee table.

“You wanna keep pretending you’re not thinking about it?” Eddie asked.

Buck glanced at him. “About what.”

“Light duty.”

Buck let out a slow breath. “I don’t want it.”

Eddie nodded and sat down beside him. “I know.”

“I’ve been home for months, Eddie,” Buck said. “I’ve done the sitting around thing. I’ve done the waiting. I finally start feeling like maybe I can get back out there and now it’s more waiting.”

“It’s not waiting,” Eddie said calmly. “It’s working, just different.”

Buck shook his head. “It’s not the same.”

“No,” Eddie agreed. “It’s not.”

Buck stared at the ceiling. “I don’t want to be the guy stuck behind a desk while you’re all out there.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You think I want you out there right now?”

Buck turned to look at him.

“You’re still bruised all over,” Eddie said. “You’re still on blood thinners. If you get hurt again, it’s not just a quick stitch and you’re good. It’s a whole thing. And that’s not even touching the pain in your leg you’re pretending is gone.”

Buck didn’t argue that. He just looked frustrated.

“You hate being cooped up,” Eddie continued. “You start spiraling when you don’t have somewhere to be. Light duty gets you out of the house. Gets you around the team. Gives you something to focus on that isn’t worst case scenarios.”

Buck’s jaw worked slightly, but he didn’t snap back.

“And Bobby isn’t trying to sideline you,” Eddie added. “He wants you healthy.”

Buck’s voice dropped. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m… not needed.”

Eddie leaned closer. “You’re needed.”

Buck looked away.

“You think I don’t want you on the truck with me?” Eddie said. “Of course I do. But I want you there in one piece. I want you there long term. Not rushing back and wrecking yourself because you’re impatient.”

Buck shifted, then winced when his ribs protested.

Eddie noticed immediately. “I’ll go get your painkillers.”

Buck frowned. “Why?”

“Carino, you’re due to take them”

“I’m okay -”

“It’s been four and a half hours,” Eddie cut in gently. “You can’t move without wincing.”

Buck sighed. “You’re annoying.”

“Yeah, because I love you.” Eddie said, standing. “And you’re still taking them.”

He came back with the bottle and the water and handed them over. Buck swallowed the pills without argument this time.

Eddie sat back down, closer now, their shoulders touching lightly.

“You don’t have to love the idea,” Eddie said. “Just don’t shut it down because it’s different.”

Buck stared ahead for a long moment.

“Fire marshal Buck,” Eddie added casually. “Clipboard. Bossing us around. Plus, you know how I feel when you wear a tie.”

Buck gave him a flat look. “Don’t.”

“Though, I will admit, you’re definitely gonna be insufferable.”

“I would not be insufferable.”

“You always are when you have authority.” Eddie smirked. “I think I’m the only one who likes Clipboard Buck.”

Buck let out a short laugh and immediately sucked in a breath when it pulled at his ribs.

Eddie smiled faintly. “See? You can’t even laugh without hurting.”

Buck leaned back into the couch. “I just want to feel like myself again.”

“You will,” Eddie said quietly. “This is part of it.”

Buck didn’t answer right away. He looked tired more than anything.

“I’ll think about it,” he said finally.

Eddie nodded once. “That’s all I’m asking.”

They sat there in the quiet, not quite as heavy as before, but still carrying the weight of the last two days. Eddie reached over and squeezed Buck’s hand. Buck squeezed back.

The bedroom was dim except for the lamp on Eddie’s side of the bed.

Buck eased himself down carefully, jaw tightening as his ribs protested. He tried not to make a thing out of it. Eddie noticed anyway.

“Easy,” he said, pulling the blankets up.

“I’m fine,” Buck muttered automatically.

Eddie gave him a look but didn’t argue. He climbed in beside him and settled back against the pillows.

There was a few seconds of quiet before Buck spoke.

“I’ll do it.”

Eddie glanced over. “Do what.”

“Light duty,” Buck said. “I’ll do it. I’m not gonna like it, but I’ll do it.”

Eddie’s mouth twitched. “Wow. Fire marshal Buck. I should warn the city.”

“Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying. You with a clipboard? That’s a lot of power.”

Buck rolled his eyes. “You’re hilarious.”

“You’ll make it dramatic,” Eddie continued. “Slow walks through buildings. Deep sighs. ‘This outlet isn’t up to code.’”

Buck huffed a small laugh and immediately winced, pressing a hand to his side.

“See?” Eddie said softly.

“Shut up.”

Eddie smiled and shifted closer. Buck moved first this time, scooting across the mattress until he was tucked against Eddie’s side. He rested his head on Eddie’s chest carefully, mindful of sore spots, and let out a slow breath.

Eddie wrapped an arm around him without hesitation, fingers resting lightly at his back.

“You gonna be okay tomorrow?” Eddie asked quietly. “While I’m at work.”

Buck nodded against his chest. “Yeah.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie’s hand moved in slow circles between his shoulder blades. “I can ask Shannon to come over. Keep you company.”

Buck made a face even though Eddie couldn’t see it. “You don’t have to do that.”

“She wants to be here,” Eddie said. “For Chris. For you.”

Buck was quiet for a second.

“I don’t need babysitting,” he muttered.

“You don’t,” Eddie agreed. “But that’s not what it is.”

Buck exhaled.

“She’s your best friend too,” Eddie said gently. “Let her show up.”

Buck shifted slightly, cheek pressed to Eddie’s shirt. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will,” Eddie said. “Doesn’t mean you have to be alone.”

Buck sighed, long and tired. “Okay. If she wants to come by, that’s fine.”

Eddie nodded once, satisfied.

He reached over and switched off the lamp. The room fell into darkness, the only light coming from the faint glow of the street outside.

“I love you,” Eddie said quietly.

Buck tightened his arm around him. “I love you too.”

They lay there, breathing in sync for a while.

Eddie’s breathing eventually evened out, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath Buck’s cheek.

Buck didn’t fall asleep.

His eyes stayed open in the dark.

The quiet made it worse. 

His mind replayed it again. The ladder truck. The water pulling back. Turning around and Chris not being there. His stomach twisted. Then the hours after. The searching. The not knowing.

And Christopher, small and scared and separated from him. Seeing things an eight year old shouldn’t have to see. Buck swallowed hard. He wondered how much Chris had actually seen. How much he’d understood. The bodies. The wreckage. The fear on adults’ faces.

Buck squeezed his eyes shut.

He’d lost him. Even if it was only for a few hours, he’d lost him.

Eddie shifted slightly in his sleep, arm tightening instinctively around Buck’s back.

Buck focused on that. On the warmth. On the steady heartbeat under his ear.

Chris was safe. In his own bed tonight at Shannon’s. Alive.

Buck stayed awake a while longer, staring into the dark, until exhaustion finally dragged him under.

The drive to the station was quiet. Buck kept his eyes on the road, both hands steady on the wheel. Eddie watched him for a minute but didn’t fill the silence. He didn’t need to.

When they pulled into the lot, Buck felt it in his chest. The building looked the same. The bay doors were open. The rigs were inside. Normal.

He parked and cut the engine.

“You don’t have to come in,” Eddie said. “You could just call your Dad.”

“I know.”

Buck got out anyway.

They walked in together. The station noise wrapped around them immediately. 

Eddie stopped near the lockers and turned toward him. “You sure?”

Buck nodded once.

Eddie stepped in close and cupped his jaw carefully, mindful of the fading bruises. He kissed him slow and steady, not quick, not embarrassed about it.

“I'm proud of you,” Eddie murmured.

Buck swallowed. “Shut it, Diaz. You'll make it weird”

Eddie smiled faintly and headed toward the locker room.

Buck didn’t linger. He went straight across the bay and knocked once on Bobby’s office door before stepping inside.

Bobby looked up from behind his desk. “Hey Kid.”

“Hey Pops.”

Bobby leaned back slightly. “Everything okay?”

Buck shut the door behind him. “I’ll do it.”

Bobby’s brow furrowed slightly. “Do what?”

“Light duty,” Buck said. “I’ll do it. I’m not gonna like it. But I’ll do it.”

Bobby studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Buck shifted on his feet.

“I’ll call the chief,” Bobby said. “Get the paperwork filed. Then I’ll tell you where they want you.”

Buck nodded again.

“We’ve got a probie starting today,” Bobby added after a beat.

Buck’s eyes flicked up. “Yeah?”

“Transferring from the 136. Their station took heavy damage in the tsunami. She’ll be here a few months until they’re back up.”

Buck kept his face neutral. “Right.”

Bobby didn’t miss the flicker in his expression. “She’s not replacing you.”

Buck shrugged lightly. “Didn’t think she was.”

“Your spot is still yours,” Bobby said firmly.

Buck gave him a tight smile. “I know.”

Bobby held his gaze for another second, then nodded once.

“I’ll make the call,” he said.

Buck nodded and stepped back toward the door.

When he walked out into the main floor, he didn’t stop. He didn’t go toward the kitchen or the lockers.

Hen and Chimney were up in the loft, leaning against the railing mid-conversation. They both looked down when they saw him.

Buck lifted a hand in a quick wave.

Hen smiled and raised her mug slightly. Chimney gave him a small nod.

Buck gave them a faint smile back and kept walking.

He headed straight for the bay doors.

The rigs sat exactly where they always did. The station looked the same. It felt the same.

He walked past without slowing down. He made his way to his Jeep, unlocked it, and got in. He sat there for a second, hands resting on the steering wheel, staring at the building through the windshield.

Back inside, Eddie took the stairs up to the loft, straightening his shirt as he went. It felt strange being back on shift after everything. The station noise was familiar, but the last few days still sat heavy in his chest.

Hen and Chimney were already up there. Hen had her tablet out, scrolling through something. Chimney was leaning back in his chair with a cup of coffee.

They both looked up when Eddie stepped into the loft.

“Hey,” Hen said, studying him.

“Hey,” Chimney echoed. “Welcome back.”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, dropping into one of the chairs.

There was a second of quiet before Hen asked, “How’s Buck?”

Eddie exhaled slowly. “He’s… holding it together.”

Chimney raised a brow. “That’s not an answer.”

Eddie rubbed a hand over his face. “He agreed to light duty.”

Hen nodded once. “That’s good.”

“He’s not thrilled about it,” Eddie added. “But he said he’d do it.”

Chimney leaned forward slightly. “You okay with that?”

Eddie didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

Hen caught the tone immediately. “You sound relieved.”

Eddie huffed softly. “I am. A little.”

He leaned back in his chair. “He’s been home for months already. Being told to slow down again isn’t exactly his favorite thing. But I’ve been worried about him.”

“Because of the bruises?” Chimney asked.

“That. And everything else,” Eddie said. “He keeps replaying it. Losing Chris.”

Hen’s expression softened. “Chris okay?”

Eddie nodded. “Physically? Yeah. Just a few bruises.”

“And otherwise?”

Eddie let out a breath. “Nightmares.”

Hen and Chimney both went quiet.

“Three the night after it happened,” Eddie said. “He ended up in bed with us. Neither of them mentioned it, probably didn’t even notice, but Chris was attached to Buck all night. I think he’s scared of being apart from him without knowing he’s safe.”

Chimney nodded. “Makes sense.”

“He was at Shan’s last night. She said he had a few last night too,” Eddie continued. 

Hen tilted her head. “How’s Shannon coping?”

“She’s doing what she does,” Eddie said. “Holding it together. Being strong for her boys.”

Chimney sipped his coffee. “What about you?”

Eddie gave him a look. “I’m fine.”

Hen didn’t buy it. “You’re back at work. If it was Karen, I'd hate to be back and not being there to keep an eye on them.”

“Yeah.” Eddie said with a sigh.

“That can’t be easy,” Hen said.

Eddie rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s not. I don’t want to let either of them out of my sight. But I’d rather Buck be home and healing than pushing himself because he thinks he has something to prove.”

Chimney gave a small nod. “He doesn’t.”

“We all know that,” Eddie said quietly. “But getting Buck to believe it’s another thing.”

Hen shifted the topic slightly. “Cleanup’s been rough.”

Eddie looked at her. “Yeah?”

Chimney let out a breath. “Debris everywhere. Structural stuff’s worse than it looked at first. We were out most of yesterday helping with inspections.”

“Water damage,” Hen added. “Electrical systems shot. A lot of people can’t go home yet.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “Chris saw some of it.”

Hen’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie shrugged faintly. “We can’t unsee it for him. Just gotta help him process it.”

Chimney leaned back. “Kids bounce back. Especially that one.”

Eddie’s mouth softened. “Yeah.”

Footsteps came up the stairs. Bobby appeared at the top, looking between the three of them.

“Alright,” he said, voice steady. “Let’s brief and figure out who’s doing what.”

Hen straightened in her chair. Chimney set his mug down. Eddie pushed himself upright, focus shifting back into place.

Bobby stayed at the top of the loft stairs instead of sitting.

“Before we get started,” he said, “we’ve got someone new joining us for a while.”

Hen and Chimney exchanged a quick look.

“Transfer from the 136,” Bobby continued. “Their station took significant damage. She’ll be with us until they’re operational again.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs behind him. A woman came up into the loft, mid-twenties, blonde hair pulled back tight. There was something sharp in the way she carried herself, like she’d learned early not to fold under pressure.

“Everyone,” Bobby said, “this is Becca Gerard.”

The name landed. Hen’s expression didn’t change, but her shoulders went still. Chimney’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

Becca didn’t flinch. She stepped forward and gave a small nod. “Hi.”

Bobby continued evenly. “Becca’s a probationary firefighter. She’ll be riding with us temporarily.”

There was a beat of silence. Chimney was the first to speak. “Gerard.”

Becca held his gaze. “Yeah.”

Hen crossed her arms loosely. “Any relation?”

Becca gave a dry half smile. “Unfortunately.”

Bobby didn’t intervene. He let it breathe.

Becca shifted her weight slightly. “Look, I know who my dad is. I also know what he was like here.”

Hen didn’t respond immediately.

Becca continued, voice steady. “I don’t have much of a relationship with him. We do the occasional family dinner because I’m close with my mom and my siblings. That’s about it.”

Chimney studied her. “You’re not exactly carrying a different last name.”

Becca’s mouth twitched. “Trust me, I’ve thought about it.”

Hen’s eyes stayed sharp. “You aware of how he treated people here?”

“Yes,” Becca said plainly. “I am.”

There was no defensiveness in her tone. No excuse.

“I’m not him,” she added. “And I don’t agree with him. About any of it.”

The air shifted slightly.

Chimney leaned back against the railing. “Good to hear.”

Becca glanced between them. “I know he was an asshole to people here. He’s an asshole to people at home too. And I know I can’t undo that. But I’m not bringing that into this house.”

Hen watched her a second longer, then gave a short nod. “We’ll hold you to that.”

“That’s fair,” Becca replied.

Bobby stepped forward again. “Becca will be partnering with Eddie for the time being.”

Eddie straightened slightly. “Got it.”

“Until Buck is cleared to return fully,” Bobby added calmly.

Becca glanced at Eddie. “I’ve heard about you.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Good things, I hope.”

She gave him a quick smirk. “Mixed reviews.”

Chimney snorted softly.

Becca’s posture relaxed just a fraction. “I’m here to work. That’s it.”

Hen finally uncrossed her arms. “We’ll show you how we do things.”

“Looking forward to it,” Becca said.

There was an edge to her confidence, but it wasn’t arrogance. More like someone who’d had to carve out her own space.

Bobby clapped his hands lightly once. “Alright. Let’s brief.”

He stepped toward the whiteboard at the front of the loft.

“Cleanup assignments first,” he said, reaching for a marker. “Then we’ll figure out who’s riding where.”

Hen and Chimney moved toward the table. Eddie stayed where he was for a second longer, glancing once at Becca before turning his attention back to Bobby.

Buck let himself in with his key and shut the door behind him. The TV was on low in the living room. Chris was stretched out on the couch, his crutches resting against the coffee table. He stared intently at the TV, completely focused on whatever show he was watching.

Chris looked up immediately. “Hi, Buck.”

“Hey, buddy.”

Chris smiled and went back to the TV, comfortable in that way he only was at home.

Shannon was standing near the hallway when Buck came in. She gave him a quick once-over, eyes catching on the fading bruises along his cheek.

“You look wiped,” she said.

“Feel it,” he admitted.

“Come on.”

He followed her into the kitchen without protest. She didn’t ask if he wanted coffee. She just grabbed a mug and poured it. Then she reached into the cabinet above the counter and pulled down his pill organizer and the orange prescription bottle.

“You’re due your meds,” she said, setting them in front of him.

Buck glanced at the clock. “Already?”

“You forgot,” she replied.

He gave her a look. “Probably.”

She didn’t smile. He took the painkillers and his ADHD meds, washing them down with a sip of coffee.

Shannon leaned back against the counter across from him. “So. How do you really feel about light duty?”

Buck stared down into his mug for a second. “Like I messed up.”

“You didn’t.”

“That’s not how it feels,” he said quietly. “It feels like I’m being sidelined. Like I can’t handle it.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” she said.

He shrugged slightly. “I agreed because I didn’t want to disappoint Dad. Or Eddie.”

Shannon’s brow creased. “You can’t disappoint Bobby, unless you’re stealing a firetruck to have sex in. You know that. He loves you too much.”

Buck didn’t answer.

“And Eddie?” she continued. “Eddie just wants you okay. He doesn’t care if you’re holding a hose or a clipboard.”

Buck let out a slow breath. “I know.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “It might not be terrible. I don’t know. I just… I want to be back properly. I want to be at the station with everyone. I want to work with my family again. I want to be at Eddie’s side.”

“You will be,” she said. “This isn’t permanent.”

Buck nodded, but his shoulders stayed tight.

He studied her face for a second longer than normal. “What’s wrong with you?”

She blinked. “Nothing.”

“Shan.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

She looked away first.

“Talk to me,” he said quietly.

She sighed and crossed her arms. “I’m pissed off.”

“At who?”

“Maddie.”

Buck frowned. “Why?”

“I called her after the first wave,” Shannon said. “And we spoke for a few minutes. After that though? Nothing. I kept calling. She didn’t pick up again.”

Buck shifted his weight. 

“And Bobby,” she added. “He didn’t answer either. But I get that he was out in the field. But Mads promised she’d get someone to check on you and Chris at the house and call me back. She never did.”

Her voice tightened slightly. “I know everything was chaos. I know that. But she’s basically my sister too, Buck. And it felt like she was avoiding me.”

Buck leaned back against the counter. “Dispatch was probably insane. You know how it gets when everything hits at once.”

“I do,” Shannon said, nodding once. “I know.”

She paused. “And I’m still really pissed.”

He didn’t argue.

“It felt like she was hiding,” Shannon continued. “Like she didn’t want to tell me something happened to you and Chris.”

Buck looked down at his mug. He didn’t agree. He didn’t disagree.

Before he could say anything else, Chris’s voice carried from the living room.

“Mom! Can I have a snack?”

Shannon closed her eyes briefly. “You just had one.”

“I’m still hungry!”

Buck smirked. “I’ve got it.”

He pushed off the counter and headed for the fridge. “Turkey or peanut butter?” he called out.

“Turkey!” Chris answered immediately.

Shannon watched Buck move around the kitchen like he belonged there. Because he did.

Buck pulled out the bread and the deli meat. “No chips,” he called. “You can have apple slices.”

A small pause.

“Okay,” Chris agreed.

“Remember, no orange juice.” Shannon reminded. “I still see him throwing up on Athena’s rug when I close my eyes.”

Buck shook his head with a faint laugh and started making the sandwich.

The loft felt lighter once the chores were done. The rigs were clean, floors mopped, trash taken out. The station had settled into that midday lull where everything was ready but nothing was happening yet. Bobby was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with steady focus. The smell of garlic and frying onions had started to fill the space.

Hen dropped into one of the chairs at the table and stretched her shoulders. Chimney grabbed a soda from the fridge and leaned back against the counter. Eddie stayed near the table, arms folded loosely, watching Becca like he was still figuring her out.

Becca pulled her hair tie tighter and sat down across from them.

“So,” Chimney said, easy but curious. “What do you do when you’re not here?”

Becca shrugged. “Mostly hang out with my partner. August.”

Hen smiled faintly. “That’s a good name.”

“Yeah,” Becca said. “They picked it themselves.”

Chimney nodded. “They?”

“Nonbinary,” Becca replied. “They use they and them.”

Hen didn’t miss a beat. “Got it.”

Eddie nodded once. “Cool.”

Becca glanced toward the kitchen briefly, then back at them. “My dad hates it.”

Hen’s expression sharpened slightly. “Hates what?”

“Any of it,” Becca said. “The relationship. The pronouns. The idea that it’s not traditional enough for him.”

Chimney let out a quiet breath. “Sounds about right.”

Becca gave a humorless smile. “He refuses to use their pronouns. Won’t even say their name half the time. Acts like it’s disrespectful.”

Hen’s jaw tightened. “That’s not okay.”

“No,” Becca agreed. “It’s not. And it’s one of the many reasons we don’t get along.”

Bobby’s voice came from the stove. “You won’t get that here.”

Becca looked over her shoulder at him. “Good.”

There was a small pause, then she leaned forward slightly. “What about you guys? You all seem… close.”

Hen smiled. “Married. My wife’s Karen. We’ve got a son, Denny. He’s ten.”

Becca’s face softened. “That’s awesome.”

Chimney lifted his soda. “I’m dating Maddie.”

“Cool,” Becca said.

“She’s Bobby’s daughter,” Chimney added.

Becca blinked once. “Huh?”

“And Buck’s sister,” Chimney continued.

Becca looked at Eddie.

Eddie gave a small shrug. “I’ve got a son with my ex-wife, Shannon. His name’s Chris. He’s eight.”

Becca nodded.

“And I’m dating with Buck,” Eddie added. “We live together.”

Becca’s eyes moved between them again. “Wait.”

Chimney grinned. “Yeah.”

“So Bobby’s your captain,” she said slowly.

“And Buck and Maddie’s dad,” Hen said.

“And Buck is your boyfriend,” Becca said to Eddie.

“Yep.”

“And Maddie’s your girlfriend,” she said to Chimney.

“That’s correct.”

“And Buck’s the one who’s off injured, right?”

“Yup,” Eddie said with a nod and a smile. 

“Ladder truck fell on him.” Chimney said casually.

“Chim,” Bobby said from the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at the paramedic.

Becca leaned back in her chair and laughed under her breath. “So, are you all related?”

Hen laughed outright. “Feels like it sometimes.”

Bobby turned slightly from the stove, wooden spoon in hand. “It’s not a requirement.”

Eddie smirked. “We don’t advertise it in the job listing.”

Becca shook her head, amused. “I transfer in and it’s basically a family tree.”

Chimney raised his soda. “Welcome to the 118.”

Becca smiled, more relaxed now. “Alright. I can work with that.”

Bobby set the spoon down and glanced over his shoulder. “Lunch will be ready in fifteen.”

Hen stretched again and nudged Chimney lightly with her foot. “Cap, or Buck, do all the cooking. We like to have family meals here.”

Becca looked around the loft again, taking it in differently this time.

“Yeah,” she said. “I think I landed in the weirdest station in the city.”

Hen smirked. “You did.”

Buck stood in front of the bedroom mirror, staring at himself like he didn’t quite recognize the guy looking back. Crisp white shirt. Uncomfortable blacks that he usually only wore to funerals. Tie hanging loose around his neck.

He tugged at it and frowned. “This feels wrong.”

From behind him, Eddie’s voice came calm and amused. “You look good.”

Buck glanced at him in the mirror. “I look like I’m about to go door to door preaching about being a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”

Eddie walked up behind him and gently moved Buck’s hands away from the tie. “You’re about to run an emergency response drill.”

“Same vibe,” Buck muttered.

Eddie smirked and started tying the knot for him, fingers quick and sure. Buck watched him in the mirror, jaw tight but eyes soft.

“You know,” Eddie said casually, adjusting the tie, “you’re very handsome.”

Buck raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“In a fire marshal way?”

“In a you way.”

Buck’s mouth twitched. “Careful. Keep talking like that and I’m gonna be late.”

Eddie tightened the knot and straightened it, then smoothed his hands down Buck’s chest briefly, brushing invisible lint away. “Wouldn’t want that. You’ve got important clipboard duties.”

Buck rolled his eyes. “Don’t.”

“You’re gonna have so much power,” Eddie continued. “You get to tell everyone what they’re doing wrong.”

Buck huffed a laugh. “I don’t do that.”

“You absolutely do.”

Buck turned to face him fully now. “I’m very fair.”

“Sure you are.”

Buck stepped closer, hooking a finger into Eddie’s belt loop. “You think I’m handsome?”

Eddie’s eyes dropped briefly to the tie, then back up. “I know you are.”

Buck leaned in and kissed him, slow and warm. Eddie’s hands came up automatically to Buck’s waist, careful of the lingering bruises.

When they pulled back, Eddie rested his forehead against Buck’s for a second.

“I’m proud of you,” he said quietly.

Buck’s expression shifted slightly. “For putting on a tie?”

“For agreeing to do this,” Eddie replied. “Even though I know you hate it.”

Buck sighed. “I don’t hate it.”

“You don’t love it.”

“No.”

Eddie brushed his thumb lightly over Buck’s cheek. “It’s temporary.”

“I know.”

“And you’re running the drill today,” Eddie added. “Which means you get to boss everyone around. Including your dad.”

Buck’s mouth curved despite himself. “I would never.”

“You absolutely would.”

Buck laughed, softer this time, and didn’t wince.

“And I’ll see you there,” Eddie reminded him. “It’s not a full shift apart. We’ll cross paths.”

Buck nodded once. “Yeah.”

Eddie leaned in and kissed him again, slower this time. Not rushed. Not teasing.

“You’re gonna be great,” Eddie said against his mouth.

Buck exhaled. “If I start sounding like Dad, you have to tell me.”

“I will.”

They pulled apart reluctantly.

“You ready to go?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Buck said. “I’ve gotta be there early.”

“Of course you do.”

Buck grabbed his keys and his jacket. Eddie followed him down the hall toward the door. At the entryway, Eddie tugged him back one more time and kissed him quick and sweet.

“Go run your drill,” he said.

Buck shook his head, smiling despite himself. “See you there.”

They stepped apart reluctantly. Eddie grabbed his bag from the chair. Buck reached for his jacket.

At the door, they paused.

“I love you,” Eddie said.

Buck didn’t hesitate. “I love you too.”

They shared one more quick kiss before stepping out onto the porch.

For a second, they looked at each other across the driveway. Then they both got in and left, heading in separate directions toward the same day.

The 118 sped through the city with lights flashing, siren cutting through midday traffic. Jones leaned forward over the wheel, jaw tight, foot heavy on the gas as they pushed toward the office building where the drill was being held.

In the back, Chimney adjusted his helmet strap while Eddie checked his gloves again out of habit. Becca stood steady, braced with one hand on the rail, eyes focused but calm. Hen rolled her shoulders once like she was getting ready for a workout instead of a drill.

They pulled up in front of the building and the rigs came to a sharp stop. People were already filing out onto the sidewalk, some moving too slow, others overreacting like it was real.

Hen and Becca grabbed the hydrant wrench and moved fast toward the hydrant at the curb. Eddie, Chimney, and Bobby stepped forward, all three looking up at the building’s exterior.

“My God, that’s the biggest damn fire I’ve never seen,” Chimney said dryly.

Eddie snorted. Bobby smirked despite himself.

“I hate fire drills,” Hen muttered as she and Becca worked the cap off the hydrant.

“City mandates we do ’em every three years,” Becca replied, fitting the hose connection in place. “Can’t fight city hall.”

“First alarm was triggered at 12:20,” Bobby said, already in captain mode. “Call came in 30 seconds later. Boots down, hoses out by 12:43.”

“That’s what?” Eddie asked, narrowing his eyes as he did the math in his head.

“Four minutes over our allotted response time.”

Chimney picked up the hose and glanced over. “Ouch. That’s gonna cost us some points.”

“Somebody’s gonna have to explain that to the new fire marshal,” Hen said with a smirk, looking between Bobby and Eddie.

Bobby turned to Eddie.

Eddie immediately lifted his hands. “I need to share a bed with him. I’m not telling him.”

Bobby sighed and started toward the entrance where employees were still coming down in waves.

They moved inside to assist with the evacuation. The lobby was loud with chatter, people crowding the exits, security trying to direct traffic. Bobby scanned the space once and then waited, knowing Buck would show up sooner or later.

He didn’t have to wait long. Buck came in through the main doors, clipboard tucked under his arm. He was walking carefully but trying not to make it obvious. The second he spotted Bobby, he headed straight for him.

“There was a stalled bus blocking both directions on Grand,” Bobby began before Buck could even open his mouth. “Vehicles couldn’t clear a path. That’s what delayed us.”

“And yet the 144 managed a response time in under six minutes,” Buck said, flipping a page on his clipboard and pointing toward where the 144’s rig was parked outside. “That’s a full seventeen minutes ahead of the 118.”

Bobby rolled his eyes.

“The 144 is five blocks away.”

“I hear you, Pops, I do,” Buck said, nodding. “And I wanna help. I gotta be impartial here. If I’m gonna do this kind of light duty until I can get back out there with you guys, I’ve gotta take it seriously. Strictly by the book. Just how you’d want me to be.”

Bobby studied him for a second. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you, Smudge. I’m glad you didn’t throw away your career just because you had a setback.”

Buck nodded once, then gave a crooked smirk. “I learned one thing from that tsunami. I don’t quit. I fight. I’m gonna keep fighting until I get back to where I belong. With my team, my family, putting out fake fires like this one.”

He laughed at his own joke. Bobby just shook his head and started walking deeper into the building.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” Bobby muttered.

“Be careful not to logjam at the stairwells,” Buck called after him. “I’d have to…” He trailed off, rolled his eyes at himself, and followed.

Chimney and Hen jogged past them, hose over their shoulders as they headed toward the stairwell.

“This is a fake fire,” Chimney complained. “Why can’t we use a fake hose?”

He spotted Buck. “Hey Buck, how we doing?”

“You don’t wanna know,” Buck replied, lips twitching before he broke into a grin.

They were just approaching the interior stairwell when the noise hit.

A shout. Then a crash. Then another. 

The sound echoed up the concrete shaft. Bodies stumbled. Someone yelled for help. People were tumbling down from above, losing their footing as the line compressed. One man near the top seized mid-step, his body locking up. The people behind him didn’t realize in time. Someone tripped over him. Then another. It turned into a chain reaction.

Chimney dropped the hose immediately. Hen and Becca rushed forward.

“Clear space!” Hen shouted.

Firefighters moved fast, pulling people away from the bottom of the stairs, stabilizing those who’d fallen. Eddie grabbed a woman who’d taken a hard hit to the shoulder and helped her sit upright. Becca knelt beside a guy clutching his ankle.

At the center of it was the man who’d gone down first. Hen was already at his side, checking his airway, watching his movements carefully as the seizure tapered off.

“Okay, okay,” she murmured, calm and steady. “You’re alright.”

By the time they got him outside and onto a gurney, he was conscious again, embarrassed and shaky.

“These things are unpredictable,” Hen explained to the two 144 medics who came to assist. “Epileptic seizures can be triggered by strobing lights. Even loud alarms.”

“I’m just so embarrassed,” the man said, face scraped and flushed.

“No need to be,” Hen told him, offering a small smile. “The event seems over. We’re gonna get you checked out just to be safe, okay?”

“Hey, there.” A man in a suit hurried alongside the gurney. “Chase Mackey, tenth floor, Mackey, Gaskin and Whitmore. I saw everything. I have reason to believe this building isn’t in compliance with the Americans with Disabilities Act. There are several legal options you might wish to consider.”

Hen looked at him flatly.

“Sir?”

“Hmm?” Chase said.

“You might wanna wait until they’re in the ambulance before you start chasing it.”

He blinked. “Okay.” Then he nodded with forced politeness and stepped back.

Inside, Bobby walked out of the stairwell area with Buck at his side. Buck was talking again, flipping through pages.

“Well, it’s a good thing this wasn’t an actual five alarm fire.”

“Yeah,” Bobby said dryly. “That is a good thing.”

“Probably doesn’t help that you’re a man down,” Buck went on, tapping his clipboard. “I’ll be sure to mention that in my report.”

“Thanks,” Bobby replied. “But we’re not a man down, Buck. We’ve got Becca.”

“Yeah, but she’s a probie.”

Bobby stopped and looked at him.

“You were a probie two years ago, kid. And at least I can trust Becca won’t steal the ladder truck to have sex in.”

Buck’s mouth dropped open. “Dad!”

Bobby just laughed and walked off. “See you later, Buck.”

Eddie saw Bobby peel away and came straight toward Buck. He slid a hand gently to the middle of Buck’s back, careful but familiar.

“You’re working till six, right?” Eddie asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Buck replied. “Why?”

“Shan texted me after we left the house. Chris needs help with his diorama for the book fair. I was hoping…”

“That I’d help?”

Eddie gave him his best pleading look. “Yeah.”

Buck smiled despite himself. “You know you don’t have to ask.”

He leaned in and kissed Eddie’s cheek quickly. “You better go. Real fires to fight.”

Eddie squeezed his shoulder. “Love you, Carino.”

“Love you too.”

Eddie jogged back toward the truck as Buck stood there with his clipboard, watching his team reset for the rest of the drill.

The next day, Chim stood at his locker, tugging his uniform shirt over his shoulders and buttoning it up one-handed while he kept glancing over at Eddie.

Eddie was sitting on the bench, elbows on his knees, staring down at the floor like he was trying to wake himself up by force.

“Really wasn’t sure what to say after that,” Chimney went on, shaking his head. “‘Hey, Maddie, you know I’m nothing like your psycho ex-husband, right? I’m not the kind of guy you need to be afraid of.’”

He let out a breath and leaned back against the locker.

“Because she was. I mean, it was just for a second, but… she looked scared. Not really sure what to do with that. She claimed she had to pick Xander up from Bobby and Athena’s but it was still early. Kid probably hadn’t even finished dinner yet.”

Eddie yawned, long and unfiltered.

Chimney shot him a look. “Oh, I’m sorry, is my crisis boring you?”

“Sorry,” Eddie said quickly, pushing himself upright. “Didn’t get much sleep last night. Christopher’s still having nightmares about the tsunami.”

He dragged a hand down his face and stood, stretching out his back carefully.

“He and half the city,” Chimney replied as they headed toward the locker room exit. “That’s gotta be expected, though, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Eddie said, voice low. “But he’s waking up screaming and crying. Tried talking to him about it, but he won’t open up to me. Says he’s fine.” He huffed a quiet breath. “Doesn’t help that Buck’s hiding the fact he’s having nightmares too. I heard him crying in his sleep a last night too.”

Chimney’s expression shifted, sympathy replacing the earlier frustration. “Yeah. Lot of that going around.”

They stepped into the bay and were immediately met with Hen walking toward them.

“Careful, guys. Hall monitor’s here,” Hen said under her breath, nodding toward the apparatus floor.

“You guys paint?” Buck’s voice rang out from across the bay as he walked in, clipboard tucked under his arm. “Why does the place look smaller?”

Chimney didn’t miss a beat. “I think your head just got bigger.”

Hen laughed. Eddie’s mouth twitched.

Buck rolled his eyes but smiled anyway.

Bobby came down the stairs from the loft, hands resting casually at his sides. “So Fire Marshal Buck decides to drop off his report in person. Is that a sign of maturity? Or is it just revenge for all the times I’ve written you up?”

Buck lifted one eyebrow at his dad. “Actually, uh, you passed.” He smirked. “I bumped up the numbers, got fancy with the math.”

Eddie moved to stand beside Bobby. “If my eight year old’s homework is anything to go by, you don’t know math.”

Buck pointed at him with the clipboard. “Which will be my excuse if anybody calls me out on it.”

He glanced between them. “Uh, speaking of, did any of you guys get a call from that lawyer?”

“The ambulance chaser?” Hen asked, arms folding loosely.

“He wants to talk to me about the building violations,” Buck explained. “Think somebody might be suing them.”

“Yeah, he was passing out cards like candy,” Chimney said around a piece of gum.

“Hey, Eddie, can you spot me please?” Becca called from the gym area, where she was adjusting weight on the bar.

“Got you,” Eddie answered immediately.

He turned back toward Buck. “See you at home tonight. Love you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Buck replied automatically, but his eyes had already drifted toward the gym.

He watched Eddie move toward Becca. Watched her grin at something he said. Watched the easy rhythm of it.

“Uh, who’s that?” Buck asked, the question coming out sharper than he meant it to.

Hen and Chimney shared a look and then both suddenly found something else to do.

Bobby stayed put.

“That’s the probie I was telling you about,” he said evenly. “Becca Gerard.”

Buck’s jaw tightened slightly.

“Buck,” Bobby added, reading his face, “she’s not replacing you.”

“Then what’s that?” Buck shot back, pointing toward the turnout cage.

There it was. A fresh strip of tape over the nameplate. Becca’s name written in thick black Sharpie where it used to say B. Nash.

“There was a cage that wasn’t being used,” Bobby said softly. “You know your space is waiting for you when you’re ready.”

“Dad, I’m ready now,” Buck insisted, voice rising before he caught himself.

“Not until the dosage is reduced, kid,” Bobby reminded him. “You know that’s all the Chief wants. A reduced dosage so the tiniest cut on the field doesn’t turn into a blood bath.”

Buck opened his mouth to argue. The alarm cut him off.

It blared through the bay, loud and urgent, echoing off concrete and steel.

Everything shifted instantly.

Hen was moving before the second tone. Chimney tossed his gum. Eddie jogged back from the gym area, helmet already in hand.

“We’ll talk later, okay?” Bobby said quickly, squeezing Buck’s shoulder once before turning toward the engine.

Eddie rushed past, brushing Buck’s arm. “See you at home!”

Then he was gone too, climbing into the truck.

Buck stood there as the rigs roared to life. The bay doors lifted. Sirens started up.

He watched them roll out one by one, lights flashing, the sound fading down the street. 

He’d been the man behind before. Like the day he had his allergic reaction to the Ibuprofen when he was a probie. But this felt different. This felt like something had shifted without him.

He glanced back at the turnout cage, at the strip of tape with someone else’s name on it. Then he let out a slow breath, adjusted the clipboard under his arm, and headed out of the station toward his Jeep.

Sleep didn’t come easy to Eddie Diaz on that Thursday night. 

Dinner had been normal on the surface. Buck had cooked, moving a little stiff but pretending he wasn’t. Chris had chattered about school between bites. Carla had sat at the table with them for a bit before heading out, after helping Chris with his math homework earlier. Shannon had stayed for a couple of hours after her open house, folding laundry at the kitchen table like she still lived there. She’d quietly stripped Chris’ bed and washed the sheets he’d wet the night before. Chris had tried to shove them into the back of his closet before anyone noticed.

By the time Eddie had gotten Chris into bed, it had taken three stories and a hot cocoa to get him to settle. He’d kept one hand on his son’s back until his breathing evened out. When Eddie finally made it into his own bedroom, Buck was already asleep on top of the sheets, one arm thrown over his face, completely out.

Eddie slid under the comforter carefully, trying not to wake him. He lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling. He could hear the hum of the fridge down the hall, the faint sound of a car passing outside, Buck’s soft breathing beside him.

He turned onto his side. Then onto his back. Then the other side again.

Eventually, exhaustion dragged him under.

It didn’t last long.

“DAD!”

The scream tore through the house.

“DAD!”

Eddie bolted upright, heart already racing. “Christopher!”

He looked to his right automatically. Buck’s side of the bed was empty.

For half a second, panic flared hot and sharp in his chest.

Then he was out of bed and down the hall in three strides.

“He was drowning, he was drowning, he was drowning,” Chris was repeating, voice thin and frantic, like he was stuck on one thought and couldn’t get off it.

Eddie rushed into the room and stopped just inside the doorway.

Buck was already there, sitting on the edge of the bed, one arm wrapped around Chris, his other hand cradling the back of his son’s head. Chris had his face buried in Buck’s chest, shaking. Eddie crossed the room fast and climbed onto the bed behind them, wrapping his arms around both of them.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Eddie said, voice low and steady even though his pulse was pounding. He ran his hand slowly down Chris’ back. “I’m here.”

Chris lifted his head from Buck’s shoulder and turned toward Eddie, eyes wet and wide.

“We’re here,” Eddie repeated, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “It was just a dream. Just a dream. You’re safe.”

Buck kept holding him, thumb rubbing small circles between Chris’ shoulder blades.

It took time. Chris’ breathing came in ragged pulls at first. He kept repeating the same words, quieter each time, until they faded into shaky breaths instead. Buck glanced down and saw the dark patch on the sheets. He didn’t say anything. He just nodded toward Eddie.

“I’ve got him,” Buck murmured.

Eddie got up and stripped the bed quickly, bundling the wet sheets in his arms. He moved through the motions without thinking, tossing them into the washer and starting it before grabbing a fresh set from the linen closet. When he came back, Buck had carried Chris down the hall to their room. Chris was half asleep again, head tucked under Buck’s chin. 

Eddie met them in the bathroom with fresh pajamas. He helped Chris change, keeping his voice soft and calm. Chris leaned into him, still drowsy, still shaky. Once he was clean and dry, Eddie carried him back to their bed. Buck was sitting on the edge of it, waiting. He moved aside so Eddie could lay Chris down in the middle. 

They tucked him in between them. Chris reached blindly and latched onto Buck’s arm, fingers curling tight like he was afraid Buck might disappear if he didn’t hold on. Within minutes, he was asleep again.

Buck and Eddie lay there on either side of him, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. The small snores started up, soft and uneven. Eddie looked over at Buck. Buck was watching Chris like he was memorizing him. His expression was open and raw in the low light.

“When I woke up,” Eddie said quietly, “you weren’t here.”

Buck glanced at him and then away, cheeks tinting faintly. He shook his head once.

“No, I… I was already in Chris’ room.”

“What? Why?” Eddie asked, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t wake their son.

Buck swallowed. “I had a nightmare again. It was about him falling off the truck again. I had to go check on him. I was sitting on the floor beside his bed, leaning on it, and fell asleep.”

“Buck - ”

“I know, it’s weird.”

“Buck, baby,” Eddie said, voice firmer now, though still gentle. “It’s not weird. You both went through a horrendous trauma together. You care so much about him. You love him like he’s your own. You just wanted to make sure he was safe. There’s nothing weird about that.”

Buck’s face flushed deeper. “I do.”

Eddie frowned slightly. “You do what?”

“Love him like he’s my own.”

Eddie’s expression softened immediately. “I know. And he loves you as much as he loves me and Shannon. You’re part of us, Buck.”

He reached across Chris carefully and threaded his fingers through Buck’s.

“So please, never feel embarrassed to be worried about him. But next time, please just wake me up so I can comfort you after your nightmare, huh?”

Buck let out a quiet laugh. “No promises. You need your beauty sleep.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “My beauty sleep? I thought I was perfect?”

“To me you are. But you’re so vain, you need the sleep.”

“I am not vain,” Eddie whispered back, feigning offense. “I -”

“Eds, I’m kidding.” Buck’s smile faded a little. “I don’t want you to have to worry about me, when you’ve got Chris to think about.”

Eddie shook his head firmly. “Baby, I can worry about both of you and be there for both of you. So please, wake me up next time.”

Buck hesitated, then sighed. “Fine.”

“Good,” Eddie replied, a small grin tugging at his mouth. “Now, we should probably get some sleep. Chris has his appointment with the child therapist in the morning and we’re meeting Shannon there before it.”

Buck’s head lifted slightly. “I don’t think - ”

“You’re going, Buckley Nash,” Eddie said, amused but firm. “You’re in this, remember? You’re going.”

Buck huffed a soft laugh. “So bossy.”

“You love it.”

Buck reached over and switched off the lamp on his side. He shifted closer to Chris, careful not to wake him. Eddie moved in too, sliding his arm across both of them, pulling them close. Chris made a small sound but didn’t wake.

Eddie pressed his face into Chris’ hair for a second before settling. This time, he fell asleep quickly. Buck stayed awake a little longer, listening to both of them breathe, holding on tight.

By early afternoon, Chris was with the therapist, Doctor Lim, a man with kind eyes and a slow, steady voice. He’d led Chris into the playroom with a choice between markers and action figures. Chris had picked both. Eddie, Shannon, and Buck sat in the waiting area. Eddie had looked around when they came in, noting the soft chairs and the basket of toys for varying ages in the corner. The magazines on the table were God knows how old.

Buck leaned forward, elbows on his knees, phone loose in his hands. Eddie sat beside him, one arm draped along the back of the couch behind Buck without really thinking about it. Shannon sat on Eddie’s other side, fingers laced together in her lap.

“He woke up twice before the big one,” Eddie said quietly. “Just restless. But the one where he kept saying he was drowning….”

Shannon nodded, staring at the carpet. “He never used to wet the bed.”

“He’s embarrassed,” Buck said gently. “He tried to hide it the other night. He didn’t get a chance to try and hide it last night, because I spotted it. But that tells you how embarrassed he feels.”

Shannon’s mouth tightened. “He shouldn’t have to feel embarrassed about any of this.”

Eddie exhaled through his nose. “I keep trying to get him to talk. He just says he’s fine.”

“He doesn’t want to make it worse,” Shannon said. 

Buck shifted slightly. “Or he doesn’t have the words to explain it properly. I know I didn’t as a kid.” Eddie glanced at him, then nodded once.

“Who knows what he saw out there when we were separated.” Buck said, his voice cracking slightly. “I hate that he saw anything at all.”

“Me too.” Eddie said quietly, as he moved his hand to Buck’s, clasping their fingers together. “But nothing could’ve been done to stop it, even if he hadn’t gotten separated.

There was a short stretch of quiet before Shannon looked at Eddie.

“I need to say something,” she said. “After the first wave, I talked to Maddie.”

Buck didn’t look up. He already knew.

“She told me she’d ask Athena to check the house. To make sure Buck and Chris were there.”

Eddie frowned. “I ran into Athena at the VA not long before we found Buck and Chris. She never said anything about checking the house.”

“That’s what’s bothering me,” Shannon said. “I never heard from Maddie again after that first call.”

Eddie shook his head slowly. “It was chaos. Phones were jammed. Dispatch was overwhelmed. It’s possible she never even got through to Athena.”

“Maybe,” Shannon said. “But I can’t shake the feeling that she knew something was wrong. Or at least suspected it. And instead of telling me, she just… didn’t answer.”

Buck’s thumb traced the edge of his phone. He stayed quiet.

“I’m still pissed,” Shannon admitted. “Because if she did know anything and kept it from me, that’s not okay. The idea that she might’ve hidden something that big… it’s been eating at me.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened. “Maddie wouldn’t lie to us. Not about something like that.”

Shannon looked at him. “I hope you’re right.”

She let out a breath and leaned back, like she was done sitting in that thought for now.

“So,” she said, turning toward Buck. “How’s light duty?”

Eddie let out a laugh before Buck could answer.

Shannon raised an eyebrow.

“He’s a menace with a clipboard,” Eddie said.

Buck looked over at him. “I am not.”

“You are,” Eddie replied. “You walk around like you’re about to fine someone for standing wrong.”

“I’m doing my job,” Buck shot back. “And I bent the rules so the 118 could pass that drill.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at him.

Shannon blinked at them. “You two are unbelievable.”

Buck’s phone buzzed in his hand.

He glanced down. “Dad.”

“What’s he want?” Eddie asked.

“Dinner tonight,” Buck said, scanning the message. “He’s inviting us over.”

Shannon smiled faintly. “That’s good.”

Buck hesitated.

“I’ll take Chris for the night,” Shannon said easily. “He can stay with me.”

Eddie looked at Buck. “We’re going.”

Buck frowned slightly. “You’re not even pretending to let me decide.”

“No,” Eddie said. “I think we should go. We need a night off.”

Buck stared at the message for a second longer, thumb hovering over the screen while the low murmur of Chris’ voice drifted faintly from down the hall.

Thirty minutes felt longer than it should have. Eddie had checked the clock twice. Buck had stopped pretending to scroll on his phone and was just staring at the dark screen. Shannon had her foot bouncing without realizing it.

When the door finally opened, all three of them stood at the same time. Doctor Lim stepped out and pulled the door closed quietly behind him. He gave them a calm, measured look, the same one he’d had when he’d introduced himself earlier.

Eddie moved first, Shannon right beside him, Buck just a half step behind. They stopped near the small interior window that looked into the playroom.

Eddie’s eyes went straight to Chris.

Christopher was sitting at the little table, blue crutches leaned against the wall nearby. There was a toy ladder truck parked in front of him. He had a blue marker in his hand and was drawing carefully on a sheet of paper, tongue caught between his teeth in concentration.

He looked so normal it almost hurt.

“How did it go, Doctor?” Shannon asked immediately, her voice tight, her eyes not leaving her son.

“He opened up a little about what’s been happening.”

Eddie leaned closer to the glass without meaning to. “Did he talk about the tsunami at all? We’re still not sure what he saw that day.”

Buck’s face drained of color at that. He looked away from the window and down at the floor tiles.

“We’re getting there,” Doctor Lim said, folding his hands loosely in front of him. “Christopher talked about being at the pier with Buck, how they played games.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened. “That part isn’t the reason he’s waking up every night screaming.”

He didn’t look at Buck when he said it. He kept his eyes on Chris.

“Or why he’s wetting the bed again,” Shannon added quietly.

Doctor Lim nodded once. “His subconscious is still processing the trauma. He’s working his way through it.”

Eddie dragged his hand down his face, pressing his palm against his mouth for a second before dropping it.

“I know it’s hard,” Doctor Lim continued. “You love your son. You wanna fix this. But it’ll take some time.”

Eddie’s eyes filled before he could stop it. He blinked fast and looked through the window again. “Just wish he’d talk to us about it.”

Buck shifted closer to him without thinking, their shoulders brushing.

“Maybe he’s trying to communicate in other ways,” Doctor Lim said gently.

He handed over a folder.

Shannon took it first and opened it right there in the hallway. Buck leaned in beside her. Eddie stepped closer, his arm brushing Shannon’s as they looked.

The first drawing was almost all blue. Waves curling high over stick figures. The next one had the Ferris wheel, big and crooked, with HELP written in block letters across the top.

Another page showed a ladder truck, red scribbled thick around it. And then there was one that made all three of them go quiet.

A man in the water. Arms up. The words HELP ME written beside him in uneven letters.

Eddie’s chest tightened.

He looked from the drawing back to Chris through the glass.

“A drowning man,” Eddie said, his voice low, his mind jumping straight to the night before. “He was drowning. He was drowning.”

Doctor Lim nodded slowly. “Yes. He does seem to be fixated on him.”

“Lot of people died in that tsunami,” Eddie said. He kept his tone even, but his fingers curled into the edge of the folder.

“I tried to shield Chris from as much of it as I could, but-” Buck started. His voice broke before he finished.

He stared at the drawing like it might explain something if he looked at it long enough.

Doctor Lim looked at him with steady sympathy. “I’m sure you did the best you could.”

Buck swallowed hard. He reached for Eddie’s hand and laced their fingers together, squeezing tight like he needed the contact to stay upright.

“We were separated a long time,” Buck said quietly. “Who knows what else he saw.”

Shannon looked down at the picture again, eyes moving over the stick figure in the water. “Or who this drowning man is.”

Doctor Lim nodded. “He’ll tell us when he’s ready. In fact, if the opportunity’s right, he might tell one of you first.”

The thought landed heavy.

“Is there anything we can do until then?” Shannon asked, looking back through the window at Chris.

“Just keep loving him,” Doctor Lim said with a small, reassuring smile.

Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He nodded once. “That’s the easy part.”

A few minutes later, the playroom door opened again and Chris stepped out carefully. He looked up at all three of them and smiled like nothing in the world was wrong.

Eddie dropped to a slight crouch immediately. “Hey, buddy.”

Chris walked toward them carefully. “Can we go now?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, brushing his hand through Chris’ hair. “We’re done.”

They thanked Doctor Lim, set up the next appointment, and headed out together.

Once they were in the car, Eddie started the engine and glanced in the rearview mirror at Chris.

“You hungry?” he asked.

Chris nodded. “Can we get fries?”

Shannon laughed softly from the backseat. Eddie didn’t hesitate. He pulled out of the parking lot and turned toward the nearest McDonald’s. They had dinner plans with Bobby and Athena later, but it was still early. A little fast food for lunch wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Chris was already talking about which dipping sauce he wanted. Buck reached back and squeezed his knee gently, and Eddie kept his eyes on the road, holding the image of that drawing in the back of his mind.

That afternoon, Maddie pulled up outside Bobby and Athena’s house with Xander in the back seat, already halfway unbuckled before the car had fully stopped.

“Mommy, is Grandpa home?” he asked, bouncing in his seat.

“Yes,” Maddie said, smiling despite the tightness in her chest. “But you still wait until I open your door.”

“I know,” he said quickly, though he was practically vibrating.

Bobby opened the front door before they even made it up the walkway. Xander took off the second Maddie let go of his hand.

“Grandpa!”

Bobby laughed and bent down just in time to catch him. “There he is.”

Xander wrapped his arms around Bobby’s middle and squeezed tight. “I haven’t seen you in like a hundred days.”

“It’s been three,” Bobby said, amused. “Maybe four.”

“That’s still a lot.”

Maddie stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. The house smelled of whatever Bobby had been cooking, the scent lingering faintly in the air.

After a few minutes of Xander showing Bobby a picture he’d drawn at school and talking about the cartoon he wanted to watch later, Bobby handed him the remote.

“Why don’t you pick something and park yourself on the couch,” Bobby said. “Keep it at a reasonable volume.”

Xander nodded seriously. “I will.” He climbed up onto the couch, legs folding under him, already focused on the screen.

Bobby glanced at Maddie. “Patio?”

She nodded.

They stepped out through the sliding door onto the back patio. The door stayed open so they could still see Xander inside. From where they stood, they had a clear view of him on the couch.

Maddie leaned against the railing, arms crossing loosely over her chest.

Bobby rested his hands on the back of a patio chair and studied her face for a moment.

“What happened with Chimney?” he asked gently. “He seemed worried. Wouldn’t say why.”

Maddie let out a slow breath and looked down at the concrete patio tiles. “We were at his place for dinner,” she said. “I dropped a plate.”

Bobby waited.

“It shattered,” she continued. “And the sound just… it took me right back.”

Her shoulders tightened slightly as she said it.

“I didn’t even think,” she added. “I just braced. Covered my head. Like I was waiting.”

Bobby’s jaw flexed. “Chimney would never hurt you.”

“I know,” Maddie said quickly. “I do. I know that.” She pressed her lips together. “But it doesn’t stop the feeling from creeping up on me. It’s like my body reacts before my brain does.”

She looked up at him, eyes glossy but steady. “Doug’s dead. I know that. I know I’m safe. But sometimes it doesn’t matter. My brain knows. My body doesn’t.”

Bobby stepped closer but didn’t crowd her. “That kind of fear doesn’t just switch off because the threat is gone.”

Maddie gave a small, humorless smile. “Apparently not.”

They were quiet for a second, the sound of cartoon voices drifting faintly from inside.

“Have you thought about going to a support group?” Bobby asked. “For survivors. Domestic violence. Something like that.”

Maddie’s eyes flicked toward him.

“I’m not saying you need it,” he added carefully. “Just that it might help. Being around people who get it.”

She looked back toward the house, watching Xander laugh at something on the TV.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve done therapy. I thought I was… past this part.”

Bobby nodded slowly. “When I struggle with my addiction, I go to meetings. Even now. Especially now.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not the same thing. I know that. But sitting in a room with people who understand what it feels like helps. It reminds me I’m not crazy for still fighting it.”

Maddie looked at him again.

“If you want to try a group,” Bobby continued, “I’ll watch Xander. Any time. You don’t even have to ask twice.”

Her throat tightened. “You’d do that?”

“Of course I would,” he said, like it was obvious. “He’s my grandson.”

She let out a shaky breath and wiped at her eye quickly before any tears could fall.

“I just hate that this is still a thing,” she said quietly. “I hate that Chimney saw that.”

“He really cares about you,” Bobby replied. “He’s not judging you.”

“I know,” she said again, softer this time.

They both looked through the open door at Xander, who was now sprawled on his stomach, chin in his hands, completely absorbed in the cartoon.

Maddie inhaled slowly and nodded to herself. “I’ll look into it,” she said. “A group.”

Bobby gave her a small, proud smile. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Inside, Xander turned his head and called out, “Mom! Grandpa! You need to see this!”

Maddie laughed, the sound lighter than it had been a few minutes ago.

“Coming,” she called back, and she and Bobby went inside together.

Chris was at Shannon’s until the evening, and the silence left too much space for Buck’s thoughts. He’d tried reading over a stack of light duty paperwork spread across the coffee table, but he kept drifting. His ribs still ached when he shifted wrong, and he found himself absently pressing at the sore spot without realizing. 

In the kitchen, Eddie was wiping down the counters, sleeves pushed up, moving around like he needed something to do with his hands.

Buck’s phone buzzed against the coffee table. He glanced at the screen. Unknown number.

He picked it up. “Go for Buck.”

“Mr. Nash,” a polished voice answered. “Chase Mackey. We met at the emergency response drill earlier this week.”

Buck leaned back into the couch cushions. “Yeah. I remember.”

“I’ve reviewed your report regarding the stairwell incident,” Chase continued. “I’d like to sit down and discuss some potential code violations in more detail.”

Buck stared at the ceiling for a second. The drill had been days ago. He’d already filed everything properly, triple-checked it, sent it up the chain. He’d moved on.

“Hold on,” Buck said, already pushing himself up from the couch.

He walked into the kitchen, covering the bottom of the phone with his hand.

Eddie looked up immediately. “Everything okay?”

“It’s the lawyer from the drill,” Buck said quietly. “The guy who was chasing that gurney. He wants a meeting about building violations.”

Eddie set the towel down. “Today?”

“Yeah. He wants me to come in.”

Eddie studied his face. “You wanna go?”

Buck hesitated. “Not really. But if I don’t, I think he’ll just keep calling. And I’d rather know what he wants than have him twisting stuff around.”

“That’s fair,” Eddie said. “Go. Get it over with.”

Buck shifted his weight, still unsure. “You don’t think it’ll turn into something bigger?”

“You did your job,” Eddie replied evenly. “You wrote what happened. If there’s a problem with the building, that’s not on you.”

Buck exhaled slowly, nodding once.

Eddie reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Go. When you get back, we’ll get ready and head to your dad’s for dinner.”

Buck huffed a small laugh. “I’d rather have a nap instead of going here.”

“I know,” Eddie said, smiling faintly. “Still. Go, and when you get back, we’ll leave together. You can tell me all about how annoying this guy was on the drive.”

Buck looked at him for a second, then nodded. “Okay.”

He stepped back into the living room and lifted the phone to his ear again.

“Sorry about that,” Buck said. “I can come in. Give me an hour.”

“Excellent,” Chase replied smoothly. “We’ll be expecting you.”

Buck ended the call and stood there for a moment, staring at his reflection in the dark TV screen.

Eddie came up behind him and rested his chin briefly on Buck’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

Buck let out a breath through his nose. “Yeah. I know.”

He grabbed his keys from the entry table, pausing long enough to glance toward Chris’s empty bedroom down the hall, then back at Eddie.

“I’ll text when I’m leaving,” Buck said.

“Drive safe,” Eddie replied.

Buck nodded once and headed out the door, the quiet house closing in behind him.

The lawyer’s office was all glass and chrome and expensive furniture that looked like it had never been sat on properly. Floor to ceiling windows. Clean desk. A framed degree positioned just so behind him. It felt staged. Buck sat across from Chase Mackey, hands resting on his knees, posture straight out of instinct.  Chase leaned back in his chair like he owned the room.

“So we could agree there was some negligence during this fire drill.” Chase Mackey said, his voice dripping with unearned confidence and bravado.

Buck scoffed. “Nah, I wouldn't agree with that, no.” he said, narrowing his eyes.

Chase didn’t flinch. He flipped a page in the printed report in front of him.

“Your after-action report says the LAFD exceeded the evacuation time requirement by 12 minutes.” Chase read from the report in front of him.

Buck leaned forward slightly, palms pressing into his thighs. “That's actually a pretty decent time for clearing a 35-story building.” Buck said, feeling defensive. “Look, all your questions seem to be about the department. I thought your client was suing the building.”

Chase steepled his fingers, like he’d been waiting for that.

“Clients, 42 injured people the LAFD failed to protect.” Chase said smugly. “This is a class action against the city on all of their behalfs.”

Buck blinked at him. The words took a second to land.

“You're suing the city?” Buck asked, unable to hide his disgust.

“Mm-hmm.” Chase said with a smirk.

Buck let out a short breath through his nose and sat back in the chair, shaking his head once.

“And you think I'm gonna help you with that?”

“I find disgruntled employees often make the best witnesses.”

Buck stared at him, genuinely confused. “Uh, I'm-I'm not disgruntled.” Buck said, raising his eyebrow in confusion.

Chase’s smirk didn’t move. He tapped a manicured finger against the edge of the report.

“I looked into you, Firefighter Nash.” Chase said with the same smug smirk. “I know about the accident, how you've been fighting with the LAFD to return to full duty because of the blood thinners.”

The mention of it tightened something in Buck’s chest, but he kept his face steady.

“They're just trying to protect the department.”

“And who's protecting you, Mr Nash?”

Buck’s jaw clenched.

“That’s none of your business..” Buck argued. “But I can protect myself.”

He pushed his chair back and stood, the legs scraping slightly against the polished floor. For a second he thought about just walking out and not giving him anything else.

He made it two steps toward the door before stopping. His hand hovered over the handle. He could feel the anger in his chest, sitting there, hot and sharp. He turned back.

“You know, the city that you're trying to make look bad is not some corporation. Those city employees, those firefighters that you can't wait to smear, are heroes, so you wanna know who's got my back? They do. See, there' more than coworkers or friends. They're my family. My father, my partner. There's nothing stronger than family.”

His voice wasn’t yelling. It didn’t need to be. It was steady. Controlled. Certain.

Chase didn’t answer. He just watched him with that same thin smile.

Buck gave the lawyer a look of disgust, something final in it, then opened the door and walked out of the office, letting it slam shut behind him harder than he meant to.

The sound echoed down the hallway, but Buck didn’t look back.

Bobby set the casserole dish down on the island carefully, adjusting the oven mitt on his hand. He closed his eyes, taking in the smell of the food he'd spent the afternoon slaving over. 

“Mmm, mmm, do I smell candied yams?” Athena said, walking up to the kitchen island, reaching to the dish Bobby had just sat down.

He lightly swatted her hand away with the mitt. “Let them cool.”

Athena smiled but let her hand fall. She leaned her hip against the counter, watching him fuss over the food.

“Are we sure this dinner is a good idea?” Bobby asked, looking at his wife.

Athena nodded. “It’s just Buck and Eddie. It’s family.”

Bobby hesitated, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “‘Thena, we still haven’t told them about the tsunami.”

Athena shook her head slowly. “Baby, there’s no reason to drudge all that back up. You and Buck are moving past everything, so a family dinner is exactly what you both need.”

Bobby didn’t look convinced. He stared down at the counter, jaw tight.

“Did we make the right call?” Bobby asked, and Athena raised her brow in question. “With not telling Eddie and Shannon that Buck and Chris weren’t home during the tsunami?”

Athena let out a small breath. “Probably not, but we made the choice that was right in the moment.”

Before Bobby could answer, the doorbell rang.

“That’ll be the boys.” Bobby said with a sigh. “I’ll get it.”

“I’ll get the wine.” Athena called after him as he headed to the front door.

A few minutes later they were all seated at the table. Plates passed. Glasses filled. The kind of small talk that filled space while everyone pretended things were normal.

Eddie helped Bobby bring out the last couple of dishes, setting them down with an easy thanks. Buck leaned back in his chair, relaxed at first, recounting his afternoon like it was funny.

“So I told that lawyer off big-time.” Buck laughed. “You know, I said, ‘You're not gonna get me to sign any affidavit that blames the 118 for anything.’”

“Appreciate that.” Bobby said with an awkward nod.

“Please, the nerve of that guy to think I would turn on my family? No way!” Buck looked at the table. “You sure you’ve made enough food, Pops?”

“Hmm?” Bobby said, looking at his son.

“Buck’s right. This is enough to feed the full station.” Eddie laughed.

Buck nodded. “Last time you cooked this much for a family dinner was when Mom and Phillip were in town and it was just so things weren’t too awkward.”

The comment landed heavier than Buck intended. Bobby and Athena shared a quick look. It was subtle, but it was there.

Buck noticed. Eddie did too.

“Which obviously isn’t what this is, right Pops?” Buck asked, looking at his dad.

Athena picked up a dish and held it up, forcing a bright tone.

“Collard greens?” Athena asked, as though to change the subject.

“Oh, no, not for me.” Buck said, holding his hand up. “Uh, I can't eat those, not while I'm on the blood thinners.”

“Too much vitamin K.” Eddie added, reaching for something else instead.

“Oh, it sounds like you're taking your health very seriously.” Athena said with a proud smile.

“I figure the better I manage this, the sooner I can lower the dosage and get back to work.” Buck said, still looking at his dad. “You’re hiding something Dad. What is it?”

Bobby froze for half a second. “I- uh…”

“Carino, lets make it through dinner before you start interrogating your Dad, huh?” Eddie said teasingly, trying to lighten it.

Buck and Athena laughed, but it didn’t fully cut the tension.

“Eddie, how’s Christopher doing after everything?” Athena said, looking across the table.

Eddie’s face softened immediately. “He’s still having nightmares, but his therapist thinks that he’s making good progress.”

“Yeah, we were at his appointment this morning.” Buck added. “We’re hoping that Chris opens up about the drowning man he keeps drawing and talking about.”

Athena’s fork paused mid-air. “A drowning man?”

She glanced at Bobby, who was suddenly very focused on his plate.

“Yeah, we-uh- we’re not sure who it is, but whoever it is, definitely left an impression on Christopher.” Buck said, side eyeing his dad. “Shannon though? She’s pissed at Maddie.”

Bobby’s eyes shot to his son’s. “Why?”

Eddie exchanged a quick look with Buck before answering.

“On the day of the tsunami, Maddie and Shan spoke on the phone for a bit after the first wave.” Eddie started. “Maddie promised her she’d try to get Athena or someone to check the house on Buck and Chris and call Shan back, but she never called.”

The room went still.

Bobby and Athena shared another look. This one wasn’t subtle.

“Maddie didn’t get you to check the house, did she Athena?” Eddie asked, narrowing his eyes.

Athena forced a tight smile. “It was a crazy day. Everything was-”

“Did she get you to check the house, ‘Thena?” Buck interrupted.

Athena’s shoulders dropped slightly. She sighed. “She did.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened instantly. “And you knew they weren’t home?”

Athena started to speak but Eddie cut in.

“You knew my son and my partner weren’t at home and were possibly out there when the tsunami hit and you kept it from me?” Eddie asked, his voice angry. “I talked to you at the VA. You didn’t say a thing, Athena.”

“We thought-” Bobby cut in.

“You?” Buck turned sharply, brow furrowing as he looked at his dad. “You knew? And you didn’t tell Eddie? Or Shannon?”

“Buck, it’s not like that.” Bobby said, trying to keep his voice calm.

“That’s why you made so much food.” Buck said, looking down at the table like it suddenly made sense. “You knew dinner was gonna be awkward because you lied to us.”

“Buck, Eddie, we made a choice in the moment and it maybe wasn’t the right one.” Athena said, hands clasped in front of her.

“Maybe not the right one?” Eddie repeated. He pushed his chair back and stood. “You talked to me at the VA like it was nothing! Like you hadn’t known that the two most important people in my life weren’t in the center of a natural disaster.”

“We thought it was the right call in the moment,” Bobby said quietly. “It was eating me up, but there wasn’t anything you could’ve done.”

“There wasn’t anything I could’ve done?” Eddie repeated, disbelief bleeding into his voice. “Bobby, I could’ve gone looking for them! Instead, I was kept in the dark and sent to the hospital with Bosko.”

“Dad, how could you do that to them?” Buck asked, his voice quiet but shaking.

“Buck, we didn’t know anything for sure.” Bobby said, still trying to hold the line.

“And Mads knew?” Buck asked, looking between Bobby and Athena.

Athena nodded once.

Something in Buck snapped.

“I can’t believe this!” Buck snapped, standing up so fast his chair tipped back and clattered to the floor. “I’m your son! Shannon’s like your daughter, Dad! How could you do this? How could you lie to them like this?”

Bobby didn’t answer. He just stood there.

“Thanks for dinner.” Eddie cut in, voice tight. “We’re gonna go.”

Buck grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. They didn’t look at the food anymore. The table. The effort. None of it mattered.

“Boys, wait, we can talk-” Athena said, standing up quickly.

“Buck, Eddie, hold on,” Bobby said, moving after them.

They stopped just short of the front door. Buck turned back first, eyes bright with anger.

“No, this…” Buck swallowed hard. “This is fucked up, Dad.”

Eddie stepped forward, jaw clenched.

“You lost a son once, Bobby.” Eddie started. “And I could’ve lost mine and you knew, and you kept that from me.”

The words hung in the air.

Eddie didn’t wait for a response. He turned and walked out of the house. Buck held his father’s gaze for one last second. Hurt and anger clear in his face. Then he followed Eddie out and slammed the door behind him.

Eddie didn’t peel out. He didn’t say anything. He just backed out of the driveway and started down the street, eyes fixed ahead, jaw locked so tight it looked like it hurt.

Buck lasted maybe thirty seconds.

“They decided for us,” he said, hands moving as he talked, like he needed somewhere to put the energy. “That’s the part that’s getting me. They decided what you should know. What Shannon should know. Like we’re kids.”

Eddie didn’t answer.

Buck looked over at him. “Say something.”

“I’m thinking,” Eddie replied evenly.

“That’s worse.”

Eddie let out a slow breath through his nose. “Buck.”

“No, because I’m serious,” Buck continued. “This isn’t just some white lie. This isn’t forgetting to mention something. They knew Chris and I weren’t home. They knew we were out there somewhere. And they just… sat on it.”

Eddie’s grip tightened on the steering wheel again. His voice stayed controlled, but there was heat under it now.

“They didn’t trust me.”

Buck blinked at that.

“That’s what this is,” Eddie went on, still staring at the road. “They didn’t trust me to handle it.”

Buck swallowed. He hadn’t thought of it that way.

“They thought you’d panic,” Buck said.

“I would’ve,” Eddie replied immediately. “He’s my son. You’re my partner.”

The honesty in it hit hard.

“I would’ve gone looking,” Eddie added. “Or tried to. Or argued. Or demanded answers. But that was my right.”

Buck shifted in his seat. “Dad said there wasn’t anything you could’ve done.”

“That’s not for him to decide.”

His voice never rose, but the anger was clear now. Not loud. Not explosive. Just steady and deep.

Buck ran a hand over his face. “I keep replaying dinner in my head. All of it. The food. The jokes. They were just… waiting for it to come out.”

Eddie nodded once. “He made that much food because he felt guilty.”

“Yeah,” Buck said bitterly. “Guess he thought candied yams would soften the blow.”

Eddie didn’t smile.

“They watched us talk about Chris’s nightmares,” Buck continued, frustration creeping back in. “About the drowning man. And they knew that day could’ve been worse. And they didn’t say anything.”

Eddie’s jaw flexed again.

“It changes things,” Eddie said quietly.

Buck turned toward him. “How?”

“I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to look Bobby in the eye at work.” Eddie’s hands stayed steady on the wheel. “Or look at Shannon and tell her that the man who practically raised her, and the woman she thinks of as a sister, lied to her and kept something so huge from her.”

Buck felt that settle in his chest.

“It makes me question what else they think they’re allowed to handle for us,” Eddie said. “What else they’d keep quiet about if they thought it was ‘protecting’ us.”

Buck stared at the dashboard. “After everything we’ve been through, why wouldn’t Maddie tell us? She’s a Mom too. She’d be pissed if we kept that kind of information about Xander from her. Why wouldn’t she just tell us! Or Shannon!”

Eddie was quiet for a second. “I don’t know.”

That stung more than if he’d said no.

“I get that it was chaos,” Buck said again, softer now. “I get that nobody knew anything for sure. But they knew enough.”

Eddie nodded. “They knew enough to tell me.”

The car went quiet for a few blocks.

Buck’s anger didn’t disappear, but it shifted. It wasn’t just outrage anymore. It was hurt. Disappointment.

“I hate that I’m mad at my dad again,” Buck admitted. “We were just getting past everything from before and now I’m pissed at him again.”

Eddie finally glanced at him. “You’re allowed, Carino.”

Buck let out a shaky breath. “And Maddie. She’s been through so much. I don’t want to pile on.”

“We’re not piling,” Eddie said. “We’re angry. And we have every right to be.”

There it was. Clear. Direct.

“They looked at me after,” Eddie added, voice lower now. “At the VA. Like everything was normal. I was talking about Bosko dying and me not being able to save her. Athena listened to me gush about you and Chris being all cosy at home and Christopher probably tricking you into telling him more stories. And the whole time, they knew it wasn’t the case.”

Buck’s stomach twisted.

“They let me think you were home. That you were safe.”

The hurt in that was sharper than any yelling would’ve been.

Buck reached over without thinking and rested his hand on Eddie’s thigh. Eddie didn’t look at him, but he didn’t move away either.

“We made it through it,” Buck said quietly.

“I know, Carino,” Eddie answered. “But they took away my choice to face it.”

That hung in the car between them.

By the time they pulled onto their street, neither of them had calmed down. Buck’s anger was still restless, buzzing under his skin. Eddie’s was quieter, but heavier. Settled in.

As the house came into view, Buck spoke again.

“We deserved the truth.”

Eddie nodded once. “Yeah. We did.”

And neither of them sounded like they were ready to forgive it.

Eddie paced back and forth at the edge of the bed as he pulled his uniform shirt on, jaw tight He buttoned it wrong the first time, swore under his breath, then undid it and started again. Buck leaned in the doorway, mug in hand, watching him.

“You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that,” Buck said.

“I don’t want to go,” Eddie muttered, dragging a hand through his hair before reaching for his belt.

Buck took a slow sip of coffee. “Yeah, I know.”

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want to look at him. I don’t want to stand there and listen to him give orders like nothing happened. Twenty four hours of yes, Cap. Got it, Cap. After that.”

Buck stepped further into the room. “Eds.”

“I mean it,” Eddie went on, frustration bleeding through now. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to just switch that part of my brain off.”

“You won’t,” Buck said calmly. “You respect the job too much.”

Eddie shot him a look. “I hate that about myself.”

Buck huffed a small laugh. “No, you don’t.”

“I do,” Eddie insisted, grabbing his turnout pants and stepping into them. “I hate how much I follow the chain of command. I’ll stand there and take it because that’s how it works.”

“Yeah,” Buck said. “Because you’re good at your job.”

“That’s not the point, baby.”

Buck set his mug down on the dresser. “You’re not gonna disrespect him on a call. You’re not gonna argue in front of the team. You know that.”

Eddie exhaled slowly, nodding once because he knew it was true.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not pissed,” Buck added.

Eddie sat down on the edge of the bed to lace his boots. “I am pissed. I keep replaying it. Him saying there wasn’t anything I could’ve done.” He looked up at Buck. “That’s not his call.”

“I know,” Buck said quietly.

Eddie tied one boot too tight, then loosened it with an irritated sigh. “And now I have to stand in that loft and act like we’re fine.”

“You don’t have to act like anything,” Buck replied. “You just have to do your job.”

Eddie looked at him, unimpressed.

“Okay,” Buck amended. “You have to do your job and not punch your captain.”

Eddie almost smiled despite himself. Almost.

Buck stepped closer, resting his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. “You’ll be fine. You respect the uniform. You respect the team. That’s bigger than this.”

Eddie searched his face for a second. “I don’t want this to bleed into the truck.”

“It won’t,” Buck said. “You won’t let it.”

Eddie stood up, close enough now that their chests almost brushed. “What are you gonna do today?”

Buck shrugged lightly. “I’ll go talk to Shannon. She deserves to know what came out last night.”

Eddie nodded once.

“And then I’ll go see Maddie,” Buck added. “Find out why she didn’t tell us.”

Eddie groaned softly and dropped his forehead against Buck’s shoulder. “I don’t want to go to work.”

Buck wrapped his arms around him automatically. “I know.”

“I really don’t.”

“I know,” Buck repeated. “But you need to go.”

Eddie stayed there for a moment, breathing against Buck’s collarbone.

“Carino,” he muttered.

“Yeah?”

“If he says anything about it on shift, I’m walking out.”

“He won’t,” Buck said. “And if he does, you’ll handle it like you always do. Calm. Controlled. Annoyingly professional.”

Eddie pulled back enough to look at him. “You’re enjoying this a little.”

“Maybe a little.”

Eddie shook his head. “You’re a menace.”

Buck smiled faintly. “You love me.”

Eddie’s expression softened despite everything. “I do.”

Buck cupped his face gently. “It’ll be okay, Eds. We’ll deal with it. One conversation at a time.”

Eddie nodded once, leaning in.

The kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t heated. It was steady and grounding, like they were both reminding each other they were on the same side of this.

When Eddie pulled back, he rested his forehead briefly against Buck’s.

“Text me after you talk to Shannon,” he said.

“I will.”

“And Maddie.”

“I will.”

Eddie squeezed Buck’s waist once, then stepped back toward the door.

“Be safe,” Buck said.

“You too, baby.”

Eddie grabbed his keys and headed out, the front door closing behind him with a quiet click.

Buck stood there for a moment in the silence that followed, staring at the empty space where Eddie had been, then let out a long breath and reached for his phone.

The station was already awake when Eddie pulled in. The bay doors were open. Chimney was standing near the engine with a mug in his hand, talking to Hen about something that looked like it involved the inventory sheet. Becca was stretching near the gym area, earbuds in but not playing anything.

Eddie stepped out of his truck, shutting the door a little harder than usual. He rolled his shoulders back once, physically settling himself before walking inside. He didn’t make it three steps past the apparatus floor.

“Eddie.”

Bobby’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried.

Eddie stopped. He didn’t turn right away. He could feel Hen and Chimney’s eyes shift toward them.

Bobby stepped closer. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Eddie turned then, face calm, jaw tight. “No.”

Bobby blinked once. “Eddie-”

“I don’t want to talk,” Eddie said evenly.

Chimney lowered his mug. Hen folded her arms loosely but didn’t move.

Bobby glanced briefly toward the rest of the team, then back at Eddie. “We can’t just ignore last night.”

“I’m not ignoring it,” Eddie replied. His voice stayed level, but there was steel in it. “I just don’t want to discuss it here.”

“We can step into my office,” Bobby offered.

Eddie shook his head. “No.”

Bobby’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Eddie.”

“I said no,” Eddie repeated, still calm. “I’m here to work. I’ll be professional. I’ll follow orders. But I’m not interested in talking.”

There was a beat of silence that stretched longer than it should have.

Becca had pulled her earbuds out now. She wasn’t staring, but she wasn’t pretending not to hear either.

Bobby took a breath. “This affects more than just us.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered for a second, but his tone didn’t change. “It won’t.”

He held Bobby’s gaze, not disrespectful, not insubordinate. Just firm.

“I’ll do my job,” Eddie added. “That’s it.”

Then he stepped around him and walked toward the locker room without looking back.

The sound of the locker room door swinging closed echoed across the bay.

Hen let out a slow breath and looked at Bobby. “You want to tell us what that was?”

“It’s nothing,” Bobby said quickly.

Chimney raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t sound like nothing.”

Bobby rubbed a hand over his jaw. “It’s personal. We’ll sort it out.”

Hen didn’t look convinced. “Cap, if it’s personal and it bleeds onto the truck, it’s not just personal.”

Bobby met her eyes. “I know.”

Chimney shifted his weight. “You sure?”

“Yes,” Bobby said quietly. “I know.”

There was tension in his shoulders now, the weight of it visible.

Hen nodded once, not pushing further but not fully backing off either. “Okay. Just… make sure it stays sorted.”

Bobby gave a tight nod in response.

He turned and headed toward his office without another word, the door closing behind him while the rest of the team remained in the bay, the air heavier than it had been five minutes earlier.

The locker room door swung shut behind Eddie with a solid click.

He walked straight to his locker and pulled it open, tossing his duffel inside with more force than necessary. The metal rattled. He stood there for a second, staring into the open locker like he was trying to cool himself down.

The door opened again.

“Don’t,” Eddie said without turning around.

Hen ignored that completely.

She stepped inside and leaned against the lockers a few feet away. “You wanna try that again?”

Eddie shut his locker and turned, arms folding across his chest. “It’s nothing, Hen.”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s personal.”

Hen pushed off the lockers and walked closer. “Personal usually doesn’t look like that on the bay floor.”

Eddie held her gaze. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” she said evenly. “And that’s okay. But if it follows you onto the truck, that’s everybody’s problem.”

He hesitated. For a second it looked like he was going to shut her down again.

Instead, he exhaled.

“They knew,” he said.

Hen frowned slightly. “Knew what?”

“On the day of the tsunami. Maddie called Athena. Athena checked the house.” His voice stayed controlled, but tight. “Bobby knew.”

Hen’s expression shifted. “Knew what, Eddie.”

“They knew Buck and Chris weren’t home,” he said plainly. “And they chose not to tell me. Or Shannon.”

Hen went still.

“They knew Buck and Chris weren’t at the house?” she asked carefully.

“Yes.”

“And didn’t say anything?”

Eddie shook his head once.

“You talked to Athena at the VA,” Hen said.

“Yeah.”

“And she didn’t mention it.”

“No.”

Hen let out a slow breath through her nose. “Okay.”

It wasn’t agreement. It was shock settling in.

“That’s… a lot,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” Eddie replied.

Hen studied his face. “You good to work?”

“I’ll do my job,” he said immediately.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened. “I’m not gonna let it bleed onto the truck.”

Hen nodded once. “Make sure of that. Cover your own ass. Be textbook.”

A faint, dry smile touched his mouth. “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll follow the chain of command, even if I’m pissed at the commander.”

Hen snorted. “That’s not how that saying goes.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” she said. “And I’m serious. Don’t give anyone a reason to question you.”

“I won’t.”

She held his gaze for another second, then nodded.

“I’ll meet you in the loft,” she said. “I’ll grab you a coffee.”

Eddie tilted his head slightly. “Can you get me a doughnut too?”

Hen laughed properly at that. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m stressed.”

“You’re dramatic,” she replied, heading toward the door.

“Coffee and a doughnut,” he called after her.

She waved him off without turning around. “Get upstairs.”

When the door closed again, Eddie stood there for a moment, took a steady breath, then headed out to the loft.

Buck unlocked the front door of Shannon's house, and stepped inside. Chris was at school and Shannon was in the kitchen, standing at the counter with her laptop open, half dressed for work but not in a rush yet. She looked up when she heard the door.

“Hey,” she said, taking one look at his face and frowning. “What happened?”

Buck didn’t bother easing into it.

“Dinner was a disaster,” he said.

Shannon slowly closed the laptop. “How bad?”

Buck stepped further into the kitchen and leaned back against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. He walked her through it without dramatics, just facts. What came out. Who knew. How long they’d known. The look on Bobby’s face. Athena admitting it. Maddie being aware.

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.

Shannon didn’t interrupt once.

By the time he finished, her expression had shifted from confusion to disbelief to something sharper.

“They knew?” she asked finally, very quiet.

“Yeah.”

“They knew youand Chris weren’t home,” she repeated.

Buck nodded once.

“And they just… decided not to tell Eddie?” Her voice was getting tighter now.

“Or you,” Buck added.

Shannon stared at him for a long moment. Then she laughed once, but there was no humor in it.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Buck shook his head.

“I called Maddie that day,” Shannon said, her voice rising now. “I called her because I couldn’t get hold of you. She told me she’d have someone check the house. I trusted that.”

“I know.”

“She knew you weren’t there,” Shannon said again, like she was trying to make it make sense. “And she didn’t call me back.”

“No.”

Shannon pushed back from the counter and started pacing the small kitchen. “That is not okay. That is so far from fucking okay.”

Buck watched her, letting her have it.

“She let me sit there all day,” Shannon went on. “All day thinking maybe you were home. Maybe you were fine. When she knew you weren’t. I was at the other side of the fucking country selling her damn house and she was keeping me in the dark!”

“She probably thought she was protecting you,” Buck said carefully.

Shannon stopped walking and looked at him like he’d just insulted her.

“Protecting me from what? The truth?” she shot back. “You don’t protect someone by lying to them.”

Buck held his hands up slightly. “I’m not defending it.”

“Good,” Shannon said sharply.

She ran both hands through her hair, then grabbed her phone off the counter and checked the time.

“Is Maddie at work right now?”

Buck nodded. “Yeah..”

Shannon’s jaw tightened.

“Of course she is.”

She moved toward the hallway, grabbing her keys from the table without another word.

Buck straightened. “Shan.”

“What?” she asked, already heading for the door.

“You’re not gonna storm into dispatch, right?”

She gave him a look. “I’m not gonna make a scene.”

That didn’t sound reassuring.

“I’m just going to talk to her,” Shannon added, already pulling the door open. “Because if I don’t do it now, I’m gonna sit here and get angrier.”

Buck followed her to the doorway. “Just… breathe first.”

She stopped on the porch and looked at him.

“I trusted her,” she said, quieter now but no less intense. “She’s supposed to be my family too.”

“I know.”

Shannon’s expression hardened again. “Lock up when you leave.”

She stepped off the porch and headed toward her car without waiting for a response.

Buck stood there for a second, watching her go, then let out a slow breath and reached for the door.

After they got back from the call with the family over the edge of the cliff, the energy in the station felt tight. It had been a straightforward rescue. Technical, controlled, no major surprises. But every time Bobby had given an order, Eddie had felt it. Not the instruction itself. The voice delivering it. He’d followed every command. Exactly. No hesitation. No attitude. It had still taken everything in him not to snap.

As soon as they were cleared and the gear was stowed, Eddie grabbed his bag and headed straight for the locker room. A few minutes later he was in workout clothes, jaw still set, shoulders stiff as he pushed through the gym doors. The punching bag hung in the corner. Eddie slipped his gloves on and didn’t warm up. He just started hitting.

Short combinations at first. Then harder. Each strike sharp and controlled but carrying more force than necessary.

He was a few minutes in when he heard footsteps behind him.

“You imagining that bag’s someone's face?” Becca joked, a smirk on her face.

Eddie snorted, breath already heavier. “You could say that.”

She stepped closer and reached out, steadying the bag with her palm. The sudden stop forced Eddie to pause mid-swing.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you and Cap, but you guys are family.” She said, smiling softly. “Like almost literally family at this point.”

Eddie dropped his hands to his sides, breathing hard. “I know.” Eddie said, sighing. “It’s just -”

“You don’t need to tell me.” Becca said, smiling. “You barely know me. But whatever it is, just think about if it’s actually worth being pissed about.”

“It is.” Eddie said, going back to punching the bag. “Cap lied to me and Chris’ mom. Hid the fact Buck and Chris weren’t at home when the tsunami hit.”

Becca’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? That’s messed up.”

“Yup!” Eddie said, popping the ‘P’ as he punched the bag extra hard. “Chris and Buck are having nightmares every night about it and I can’t do anything to help them. Chris is in therapy and Buck’s hurt that his dad and his sister could lie to us like that.”

The bag swung violently. Eddie steadied it himself this time.

“If Cap had told you, it’d have still been too late.” Becca said, trying to sound reasonable.

Eddie stopped and gave her a death stare.

“It doesn’t make it okay. Like it’s a complete dick move, but the way I see it, Buck and Chris were still there when the tsunami hit. The nightmares would still be there.”

Eddie’s jaw flexed. He let his gloves hang at his sides.

“But if I knew they were out there, I could’ve gone looking. I might’ve found them sooner. Then Chris wouldn’t have been alone for so long. Maybe Buck wouldn’t have almost passed out from the pain in his leg.”

His voice dropped on the last part. It wasn’t anger anymore. It was something closer to guilt.

“I get it. I really do.” Becca said, her voice soft. “I’d be seriously pissed off too if it was me. But don’t risk your place here just because you’re pissed at Bobby.”

Eddie shook his head immediately. “I would never.”

“I know,” she said. “But anger makes people stupid.”

He gave her a look.

“You said Chris is in therapy?”

Eddie nodded.

“What’s the therapist saying?” Becca asked.

“He’s making progress, but we just need to keep showing him that he’s loved and he’ll maybe open up to us.”

Becca shrugged slightly. “It’s good advice. When my Nona died when I was a kid, my dad was an asshole but my mom? She was honest about how she was feeling. How she was dealing with losing her Mom, and we got through it together. She showed me how loved I was and it made dealing with the loss a lot less scary.”

Eddie stared at the bag again, the fight draining out of him slowly.

“I don’t know how to get through to him.”

“You don’t need to get through to him.” Becca said, putting her hand on Eddie’s arm. “Just be there for him.”

Eddie gave a small nod.

“And maybe try to listen to Cap a little more when we’re out on calls, instead of almost breaking your jaw from how hard you’re clenching.”

That pulled a soft chuckle out of him.

“Thanks, Becca.”

“Any time. Now, if you don’t mind me, I’m gonna go workout too.”

She moved past him toward the free weights.

Eddie slipped his gloves off slowly, flexing his fingers. He turned toward the bay, catching sight of Bobby standing near the ambulance, talking to Chimney like nothing had shifted between them.

Eddie watched him for a second longer than he meant to.

Then he let out a slow breath and headed for the showers.

Dispatch was loud Phones ringing. Keyboards clacking. Maddie was mid-call when she saw Shannon walk in. It took her half a second to register that Shannon wasn’t smiling. Wasn’t here to chat. Wasn’t here to grab coffee. Maddie wrapped up the call quickly, voice smooth and calm until the second she clicked off.

She pulled off her headset and stood up.

“This is a surprise.”

Her tone tried for light. It didn’t land.

Shannon didn’t smile. “We need to talk.”

Buck stood a few steps behind her, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, watching but not intervening.

Maddie swallowed and nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Break room?”

She led the way, pushing open the door and stepping inside. It was small. Too small for the tension that followed them in.

The door shut.

Maddie turned around. “What’s going on?”

Shannon didn’t hesitate.

“You lied to me.”

Maddie froze. “Shan-”

“You knew Buck and Chris weren’t home that day.” Shannon’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was sharp. Controlled anger. “You told me you’d check. You told me you’d call me back.”

Maddie’s face fell. “I was trying to-”

“You avoided me,” Shannon cut in. “I called you. Over and over.”

Maddie’s eyes flicked to Buck for a second before settling back on Shannon. “It was chaos. Everything was chaos.”

“Don’t,” Shannon said immediately. “Don’t hide behind that.”

Maddie shook her head. “We didn’t want to worry you.”

Shannon let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Bullshit.”

Maddie flinched.

“I trusted you,” Shannon continued. “I called you because I couldn’t get hold of them. I needed someone to tell me something real. And you let me sit there thinking maybe they were safe at home.”

“I didn’t know what was happening yet,” Maddie said, voice shaking now. “I didn’t know where they were. I didn’t know anything.”

“You knew enough,” Shannon shot back. “You knew they weren’t at the house.”

Maddie’s shoulders dropped slightly.

“I thought if I told you they weren’t there it would just make it worse,” Maddie said. “You were already scared.”

“I was supposed to be scared,” Shannon said. “That’s my kid.”

The words landed heavy.

“I’ve been your friend my whole life,” Shannon continued, voice cracking now under the anger. “You’ve been like a sister to me. And you decided I couldn’t handle the truth?”

Maddie’s eyes filled. “That’s not what I thought.”

“Then what did you think?” Shannon demanded. “That I’d fall apart? That I’d make it harder?”

Maddie shook her head, struggling. “I thought I was protecting you.”

“From what?” Shannon asked. “Reality?”

The break room felt smaller by the second.

“How would you feel,” Shannon pressed, “if I’d done that to you? If Xander was out there somewhere and I knew he wasn’t safe and I just… didn’t tell you?”

Maddie’s face tightened. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is you, your Dad and Athena deciding what me and Eddie get to know about our son.”

Maddie’s mouth opened, then closed again.

Buck shifted slightly but stayed quiet.

“I was scared too,” Maddie said finally, tears slipping down her face now. “I was trying to juggle calls, and Dad was in the field, and Athena was running point, and everything was falling apart.”

“So you let me fall apart alone?” Shannon asked.

Maddie’s lips trembled. “I’m sorry.”

Shannon shook her head immediately. “Save it.”

Maddie blinked. “Shan-”

“No.” Shannon’s voice hardened again. “You don’t get to say sorry and have that fix it.”

Maddie wiped at her face with the heel of her hand. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“You did,” Shannon said plainly. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you for lying like that.”

The silence that followed was thick.

Shannon turned toward the door.

“Shan-” Maddie called after her.

Shannon didn’t stop.

She pulled the door open and walked out without looking back.

The break room door swung shut behind Shannon.

The sound echoed louder than it should have.

Maddie stood there for a second, staring at the door like Shannon might walk back through it. Her hands were shaking. She pressed her palms against the table to steady herself.

Buck hadn’t moved. He was still by the wall, arms folded tight across his chest. He wasn’t pacing like Shannon had. He wasn’t yelling.

He was watching her.

Maddie finally looked at him. “Smudge…”

He let out a slow breath through his nose.

“Why?” he asked.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic.

It was worse than that.

Maddie swallowed. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“For who?” Buck asked.

“For everyone,” she said quickly. “It was chaos that day. Calls were stacking up. Sue had me running point here. We didn’t know how bad it was going to get. I just… I didn’t want to add more panic.”

Buck stared at her. “You didn’t want to add panic.”

“I didn’t want Shannon spiraling in Boston when we had no answers,” Maddie said, her voice cracking. “And I didn’t want Eddie tearing off to go look for you when the whole coastline was a disaster zone.”

Buck’s jaw tightened.

“So instead you let them think Chris and I were safe at home.”

Maddie’s eyes filled again. “I didn’t know where you were.”

“But you knew we weren’t there.”

She didn’t answer.

That was answer enough.

Buck shook his head slightly, more disbelief than anger now. “You’re my sister.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“You always tell me not to shut people out. Not to make decisions for them about what they can handle.”

Maddie flinched.

“And then you did exactly that,” he said.

“I was scared,” she said, stepping toward him. “Buck, I was terrified. I couldn’t get you on the phone. I didn’t know if you were hurt, if Chris was hurt, if-” Her voice broke. “I couldn’t lose you too.”

Buck’s expression shifted at that. Just a little.

“But you didn’t trust us,” he said. “You didn’t trust Eddie. You didn’t trust Shannon. You didn’t even trust me.”

“I was trying to hold everything together,” Maddie insisted. “If I told Shannon you weren’t home, she would’ve panicked from the other side of the country. If I told Eddie, he would’ve gone running into the middle of it. I thought I was buying time.”

“At whose expense?” Buck asked quietly.

Maddie didn’t have an answer.

Buck looked down at the floor for a second, then back at her. His eyes were glossy now, but his voice stayed steady.

“Chris wakes up screaming every night,” he said. “Eddie blames himself for not getting to him sooner. Shannon’s been replaying that day in her head since it happened! And you stood in front of me that night and god knows how many times after like everything was fine.”

Maddie covered her mouth with her hand.

“I didn’t know how to fix it,” she whispered. “Every time I thought about telling you, it felt too late. And the longer I waited, the worse it got.”

“So you just hoped it would go away?” Buck asked.

“No,” she said immediately. “I hoped you’d never find out.”

The honesty of that hung between them.

Buck let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, but there was no humor in it.

“That’s worse.”

“I know,” Maddie said, tears spilling freely now. “I know. I messed up.”

He looked at her for a long moment.

“You don’t get to decide what’s too hard for us,” he said finally. “You don’t get to protect us from our own lives.”

Maddie nodded weakly. “You’re right.”

He ran a hand through his hair, restless energy finally breaking through the calm. “Eddie feels like he was robbed of a choice. Shannon feels like she was betrayed. And I… I don’t even know what I feel.”

“Are you angry at me?” she asked softly.

Buck looked at her.

“Yes. Probably more angry at you than I’ve ever been before.”

The word wasn’t shouted. It didn’t need to be.

“But I’m also sad,” he added. “Because you’re supposed to be the person I don’t have to question.”

Maddie stepped closer again, stopping a few feet away this time instead of trying to touch him.

“I never meant to hurt you,” she said. “I love you. You know that.”

“I know,” he replied. “That’s what makes it worse.”

Silence filled the space between them.

Outside the break room, phones kept ringing. Life kept moving.

Buck finally shifted toward the door.

“Are we okay?” Maddie asked, voice small.

He paused with his hand on the handle.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Not right now.”

And then he opened the door and walked back out into Dispatch, leaving his sister standing there with the weight of it settling in.

The next evening, Buck stood at the sink with his sleeves pushed up, rinsing plates and stacking them carefully in the drying rack. He could hear the faint splash of water from the bathroom down the hall and Chris giggling at something Eddie had said. The normalcy of it all felt fragile, like something they were all trying to protect.

Eddie finished rinsing shampoo out of Chris’ hair and wrapped him in a towel before getting him into his striped pajamas. By the time they stepped into the hallway, Chris’ hair was still damp and his feet were a little wet.

“Up you go,” Eddie said, scooping him into his arms without ceremony. Chris wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck automatically.

As Eddie carried him toward his bedroom, he tickled Chris’ side, earning a high, breathless laugh.

When they reached the bed, Eddie dropped his voice low and dramatic. “Bah!” He lowered Chris onto the mattress like he’d just defeated a villain.

Chris giggled again, squirming into position.

Eddie started lifting Chris’ comforter. “Tuck these feetsies in.” He straightened the covers over his son. “Okay.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing a hand over Chris’ damp hair.

“Let me see those pearly whites.”

Chris sat up in the bed with a big smile.

“Whoa, whoa. Whoa, very pearly.” Eddie said, pretending to be blinded.

He held his fist out for a fist bump. Chris immediately threw his hand up and gave him a fist bump.

“Good job.”

Eddie pulled the covers up properly and smoothed them down again, making sure Chris was settled. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Hey, buddy, you know if there's anything bothering you, you can talk to me. You know that, right?”

“I know, Daddy.” Chris said, his smile faltering.

Chris held his arms up for a hug, and Eddie smiled, immediately moving in to hug his baby.

“Love you! Goodnight! Buck’ll be in in a minute to say goodnight too.”

Eddie lingered for a second longer, pressing a kiss to Chris’ temple before standing. He paused by the door, eyes drifting to the cork board on the wall.

The family drawing was pinned right in the center. Four stick figures. Eddie. Shannon. Chris. Buck. All holding hands.

Eddie’s chest tightened. He looked back at Chris, who had already settled against his pillow, then turned and walked out into the dining area. The folder from therapy was still sitting on the table where they’d left it.

He picked it up and flipped through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. The man in the water. The one with HELP ME written beside him.

Eddie stared at it for a long moment before walking back down the hallway.

He stepped into Chris’ room quietly and held the therapy drawing up beside the one on the cork board.

The men were the same.

The hair. The height. The way Chris had drawn the arms.

The man in the water was Buck.

“Christopher?” Eddie said, looking over at his son.

Chris sat up in his bed, looking at his dad through squinted eyes, since he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

“Is this Buck?” Eddie asked, and Chris looked away.

Eddie’s face dropped, seeing the sadness on his son’s face.

“Hey,” Eddie said, rushing to Chris’ side. He knelt down beside his son’s bed, taking hold of Chris’ hand. “Is that who you’ve been dreaming about?”

Chris nodded, avoiding eye contact. Eddie’s mouth fell open, and he reached up to cup his son’s head.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t wanna make you sad.” Chris said, his voice quiet.

“Oh,” Eddie said, rushing forward, wrapping his arms around his boy. “Hey, hey there’s nothing wrong with being sad. And Buck’s okay. He’s fine.”

“But he keeps getting hurt.” Chris said softly.

That hit harder than Eddie expected.

Eddie let out a soft, shaky breath and glanced toward the hallway. “Buck? Can you come in here for a minute?” Eddie called out.

From the kitchen, Buck turned the faucet off quickly and dried his hands on a towel. He couldn’t see down the hallway from where he’d been standing, but the tone in Eddie’s voice was enough to make his stomach drop. He moved fast.

He stepped into Chris’ room and immediately clocked the tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, kneeling beside Eddie.

“You’re the one Chris’ been dreaming about,” Eddie said, his voice soft. “He’s worried because you keep getting hurt.”

Buck’s face changed instantly. The teasing, easy smile he’d been wearing all evening was gone. He reached out and rubbed Chris’ back gently.

“Superman, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m okay. I’m good.” Buck said, his voice reassuring. “I’m just a big klutz.”

Eddie let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it.

“But-”

“No, I promise you Chris,” Buck said, squeezing Chris’ shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

“Okay.” Chris said, his voice quiet.

Eddie and Buck both leaned in, wrapping him in a careful, shared hug. Chris tucked his face between them.

“I love you guys.” Chris whispered.

“We love you too, buddy.” Eddie said, letting out a sad sigh.

They stayed like that for a minute, letting him breathe through it. When they finally eased him back against the pillow, Buck brushed his thumb under Chris’ eye and pulled the comforter up snug around his shoulders.

It didn’t take long for Chris to drift off, exhaustion finally winning.

Buck and Eddie slipped out quietly and made their way to the living room.

Eddie sat down heavily on the couch, running a hand over his face. Buck hovered for a second, then sat beside him.

Before either of them could say anything, there was a knock at the door.

Buck frowned. “Who would turn up at 9pm?” Buck laughed as he moved towards the door.

He pulled it open and the smile fell off his face immediately.

Bobby stood on the porch, hands in his jacket pockets.

Eddie was on his feet and at Buck’s side within seconds.

“Boys, I’m sorry to turn up so late.” Bobby said, a soft smile on his face.

“Dad, what’re you doing here?” Buck asked, his tone sharp.

“I came by to try and talk. We can’t leave things the way they are.” Bobby said, his hands slipping into his pockets.

“Bobby, I told you at the station.” Eddie started. “We don’t want to talk.”

“I just want to try and explain.”

“You’ve explained enough, Dad.” Buck snapped. “And your explanation just made everything worse.”

“Smudge, please.” Bobby pleaded.

“No,” Buck said, his voice harsh. “We’re not ready to hear what any of you have got to say.”

“I understand,” Bobby said, his smile faltering. “I just hope you know how sorry I am.”

“Of course you’re sorry.” Eddie bit out.

Buck stepped forward slightly. “What I don’t get, Dad, is how you could lose Daniel, and almost lose me and Maddie so many times,” Buck started, pausing, taking a deep breath. “And yet you were okay with the idea of Eddie and Shannon not knowing where Christopher was. Their son could’ve been dead and you just left them in the dark. That’s unforgivable.”

Bobby’s shoulders sagged. “I know.”

The quiet of that response didn’t make it better.

“I think you need to leave, Bobby.” Eddie said, taking hold of the door. “When we’re prepared to hear whatever you’ve got to say, we’ll call you.”

He swung the door closed firmly.

The click of the latch felt final.

Eddie turned around and saw Buck standing there, jaw tight, eyes bright with unshed tears.

Without saying anything, Eddie stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him.

Buck folded into him immediately, pressing his face into Eddie’s neck and gripping the back of his shirt.

Eddie held him close, one hand in his hair, the other firm against his back.

They stood there in the quiet house, the weight of everything pressing down, holding onto each other like that was the only solid thing left.

Chapter Text

Maddie stood at the sink finishing the last of the dishes, the warm water running over her hands as she scrubbed the final plate. The kitchen light cast a soft glow into the living room where Xander sat cross-legged at the coffee table, his action figures locked in some dramatic battle only he fully understood.

She turned off the faucet and dried her hands on a dish towel before stepping out of the kitchen.

“Five more minutes, Little Man,” Maddie said, stepping out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel.

Xander looked up immediately, eyes wide and hopeful. “Can I have 10?”

“Nuh-uh.” Maddie said, shaking her head. “Five minutes, then it’s bath time.”

He let out a long, exaggerated sigh that would’ve impressed any theater director.

“Okay, Mommy.”

Maddie laughed under her breath and watched him go back to his toys before heading down the hallway. She turned on the bathroom tap and tested the water with her hand, adjusting it until it was warm but not too hot. She poured in a little bubble bath, the scent of lavender rising up as foam began to build.

She’d just shut off the water when the doorbell rang.

Before she could even step into the hallway, she heard the quick thud of small feet on hardwood.

“Alexander Kendall, what’ve I told you about answering the door?” Maddie chastised as she walked into the living room.

Xander stood at the open door, grinning like he’d just gotten away with something.

“To do it?” He asked, feigning innocence.

Maddie rolled her eyes, though she was fighting a smile.

“Mommy, it’s okay,” Xander said, his voice high and excited. “It’s just Chimney.”

Chim stepped inside, offering a small wave.

“Chim, this is a surprise.” Maddie said, smiling as she walked towards the door. She stopped and put her hand on Xander’s back. “Kiddo, why don’t you go get pajamas for after your bath?”

Xander looked between the two adults, clearly sensing something adult and boring was about to happen. He sighed dramatically again, then took off down the hallway toward his bedroom.

“Sorry, I know it’s bathtime,” Chimney said, his hands in his pockets. “But I wanted to catch you before bed.”

Maddie stepped aside to let him fully into the living room, closing the door behind him. “It’s okay. We’ve got a minute.”

She could see something in his expression. Not panic. Not anger. Just something that had been sitting on him.

“I -uh- I wanted to about the other day? With the plate? Or what happened after the plate.”

“Oh,” Maddie said, her eyebrows raising. “That was nothing. You just - you startled me, that’s all.”

Chimney moved toward the dining table and pulled out a chair, sitting down slowly like he wasn’t quite sure how to approach this.

“It wasn’t nothing Maddie.” Chimney said with a sad smile. “I’m not exactly sure what to call it.”

Maddie’s chest tightened a little. She moved to sit across from him, closer than before.

“I swear, it had nothing to do with you.”

“I know,” Chimney said with a nod. “At first I didn’t, but we had this call a few days ago. This car fell a cliff.”

“I heard about that. The mom and her two kids, right?” Maddie clarified.

“Yeah,” Chim nodded. “The older kid, he’s probably 12 or 13. I could see him trying to strong for his brother and his mother. And it just took me back to when I was a kid, trying to be strong for my mother while some doctor explains cancer to us. And it just triggered all these emotions in me.”

Maddie’s expression softened immediately. “You- you never told me about that,” Maddie said, moving to sit closer to him.

“Well, I… I’d never really thought about that day in years, but all of a sudden, there it was.” Chim gave a soft smile. “You know, I didn’t plan it, couldn’t control it,” he shrugged. “It just happened.”

Maddie let out a quiet, breathy laugh. “There’s gotta be a word for that.”

“I’m sure the Germans have something. It’s probably 17 syllables and completely unpronounceable, but whatever it is,” He said, reaching over, taking Maddie’s hands in his own. “It’s a part of us. Who we are. And I just never want you to ever feel like you have to hide that from me.”

Maddie’s eyes filled slightly, but she smiled through it. “Okay. No more hiding.”

“Okay,” Chimney said, smiling.

She stood slowly, pacing once toward the kitchen and back like she needed to move the energy out of her body.

“I’ve been doing some thinking of my own,” Maddie admitted, standing up. “I need to purge everything, well almost everything, that reminds me of Doug from my life.”

Chimney stood too, curious but cautious. “Like how?”

“I wanna start with Xander.”

“You’re gonna get rid of your son?” Chimney joked.

“No, of course not.” Maddie laughed. “But his name. His full name is Alexander Douglas Kendall.”

Chimney’s teasing expression faded into understanding. “And every time you look at him, you think of the name.”

“Not every time,” Maddie said sadly. “But enough.”

He nodded slowly.

“So you’re gonna change his name?”

“Only if he wants it.” Maddie admits. “I’m gonna talk to him, after I get this thing with Buck, Eddie and Shannon straightened out, and let him pick his new name.”

“You sure that’s wise?” Chim teased. “Letting a six year old pick his own name sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

Maddie barked out a laugh, tension easing a little. “No, not his full name. I’ll give him options.”

“Sounds like a smart plan,” Chim smiled.

From down the hallway, Xander’s voice rang out.

“MOMMY, I’M BORED! CAN I GO IN THE BATH NOW?”

Maddie laughed again, the sound lighter now. “Duty calls.”

“Go, I’ll let myself out.” Chimney smiled.

She stepped close, placing her hands on his shoulders and leaning in to kiss him. It was gentle, grounding.

“I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Can’t wait!” Chimney said, as the kiss ended.

Maddie gave him one last small smile before turning toward the hallway.

“Okay buddy, let's get you in the bath, huh?”

Chimney watched her disappear down the hall, listening to her voice shift into that soft, warm mom tone as she spoke to Xander.

He stood there for a second longer, letting himself breathe, before quietly letting himself out of the townhouse and closing the door behind him.

Maddie’s voice had come through Bobby’s radio calm and steady, even though the address made everyone pause for half a second. Happy’s Rage Room.

The details were thin. A possible injury. Someone trapped. Possible assault with a sledgehammer. Bobby didn’t question it. 

Now they were stepping through the front doors into a lobby that looked more like a trendy salon than a place people paid to break things. Neon sign on the wall. Safety waivers stacked on the counter. Protective coveralls hanging from hooks.

Hen looked around, unimpressed.

“Apart from a blowout bar, this is the dumbest thing people in L.A. pay money for.” Hen ranted as they walked inside.

Bobby smirked at her over his shoulder. “You’ve clearly never needed to smash a printer.”

“I think it's genius.” Chimney commented, scanning the posted price list like he was genuinely considering it.

Athena stood just inside the main smash room, talking to an employee who looked pale and shaken. She turned when she saw the 118.

“Your victim's in there.” Athena said, pointing into the room from where she was standing, talking to the worker at the Rage Room.

The room itself looked like a hurricane had hit a thrift store. Shattered plates, busted lamps, splintered furniture. A heavy barrel lay on its side in the center.

Bobby stepped past his wife and looked around the room.

“Where?” He asked.

Athena sighed and pointed directly at the barrel.

“There. Your victim climbed into the barrel after her BFF started chasing her with a sledgehammer.”

Eddie blinked. “I thought the point was to smash things, not each other.”

He kept his tone neutral, professional. He didn’t look at Bobby. Didn’t look at Athena.

Athena gestured with her thumb. “Wife. Mistress.”

She pointed toward the woman cuffed against the far wall, still yelling, then toward the barrel.

“Adulterous slut!” The handcuffed woman yelled, looking over at the barrel.

Chimney raised his eyebrows. “Does the adulterous slut have a name?” Chimney asked with a smirk, looking at Athena.

“Denise. She can't hear you very well in there.” Athena said with a shrug. “Ears ringing.”

Bobby moved closer to the barrel and crouched slightly.

“Denise, are you hurt?” Bobby asked, getting close to the barrel.

“What?” Denise yelled out.

Chimney snorted softly under his breath.

“Ah, looks like she's sledge hammered in there pretty good, Cap.” Eddie said, frowning at the barrel.

Bobby straightened. “Becca, Eddie, saws and jaws.”

“On it, Cap!” Becca said, nodding at Eddie as they moved.

Eddie grabbed the saw from the truck while Becca hauled the jaws. They worked without speaking, slipping into the rhythm that came naturally now. Becca positioned herself and started cutting through the weakened metal.

“Denise, we're gonna cut you out of there.” Bobby said, yelling slightly.

“What?” Denise yelled out again, causing Bobby and Chimney to share a quiet laugh.

Metal screeched under the saw. Becca worked carefully, steady hands despite the noise. Eddie watched her technique for a split second before stepping in when she nodded at him.

She wasn’t as fast as Buck would’ve been. Eddie noticed it automatically. Buck had a way with the saw, almost cocky in how clean his cuts were.

Becca was still solid. Focused. Careful.

After a minute or two sawing, Becca stepped back and Eddie moved in with the jaws, bracing himself as he pried the barrel open with controlled force.

The metal bent enough to free Denise, who stumbled out, covered in dust and splinters but mostly intact.

Hen and Chimney were on her immediately, checking her vitals, shining a light into her eyes.

As Athena guided the cuffed woman out, Denise grabbed at her sleeve.

“Don’t arrest her,” Denise insisted. “It was my fault.”

The other woman twisted against her restraints and screamed about betrayal, about trust, about how she’d been made a fool.

“So much anger in the world these days.” Chimney commented as he put his medical bag over his shoulder. “I can see why this place is all the rage.”

He turned to Hen and Bobby. “See what I did there?”

Hen scoffed. “Oh, I see it.”

Becca rolled her eyes but smiled slightly as she carried the tools back toward the truck.

Bobby fell into step beside Athena as they exited, slipping his arm around her shoulders in a familiar gesture. They walked close, heads slightly bowed toward each other.

Eddie noticed. He didn’t mean to. He just did.

His jaw tightened.

“He still pissed?” Athena asked quietly to her husband.

“Yup.” Bobby said with a sad nod.

“At least he’s still following orders.” Athena shrugged.

“For now.” Bobby commented. “At least I’m not getting sarcastic comments today.”

Athena chuckled as they walked out the doors of the building.

A few steps behind them, Eddie climbed into the truck without saying a word, eyes forward, hands steady.

Professional.

Even if everything under the surface was anything but.

The house was already buzzing with morning energy. Athena stood near the bottom of the stairs with her coffee in hand, just outside the living area. Michael stood a few feet away, checking his watch while glancing toward the hallway.

Footsteps thundered overhead before May came barreling down the stairs, backpack half-zipped and hanging off one shoulder. She was digging through it mid-descent, papers threatening to spill out.

“Mom, have you seen my phone charger?” May asked, her voice sounding rushed.

Athena didn’t even blink. “Why am I the lost and found?” Athena said sarcastically. “In the kitchen. Next to the coffee maker.”

May pivoted without slowing down and disappeared toward the kitchen.

Michael raised his voice toward the hallway. “And Harry! Let's go!” He leaned slightly to project his voice better. “What time are you and Bobby leaving?”

“We're not.” Athena said, taking a sip from her coffee.

Michael paused mid-step. “What? I thought you guys were going to that B&B up the coast.”

“Canceled, on account of everything happening with Buck.” Athena explained, her voice sounding just this side of annoyed. “He and Eddie aren’t talking to any of us. Including Maddie.”

Michael’s expression shifted into something more serious. “Wow. Last time I saw Buck he was coughing up blood on the patio.”