Chapter Text
ALL TOO WELL
By ChasetheWindTouchtheSky
CHAPTER ONE
The Air Was Cold
“I-I need you do to something for me. I—” There’s a terrible wheeze and Bobby can almost see the man’s pinched face, desperately trying to smooth any indication of harm. “I need you to tell—”
“No.” Bobby says strongly into the radio, his eyes never wavering from the collapsed building. He feels himself losing it – he feels the same terrible ache snake in his spine then he did that night, smoke clouding his lungs. “No, firefighter, you’re not doing this. We’re clearing debris and we’ll—”
“Please?”
It’s small, almost childlike.
How could he ever deny a dying man’s request?
***
Eddie’s fine.
No really, he is. He’s got a job, his life isn’t at risk, and his son is happy. So, Eddie’s fine.
Moving back to Texas was so obvious, Eddie almost questioned whether it was too obvious. His parents were there, his Abuela moved back after her health declined, and Christopher had a built-in support system. Everything seemed perfect. Eddie had babysitters for when he went to work at the clinic, Christopher made friends easily at school, and everything was fine.
Eddie’s fine.
Except for one thing. The hole in his chest whenever he thinks of L.A. How he never seemed to worry about him or Christopher, because he knew the 118 would always have his back. How he could go to Bobby with any questions that plagued him in the middle of the night, or the comradery and closeness he felt with Hen. How he could always rely on Chim for a laugh and a thoughtful comment in dark times, or smile at Ravi’s shininess. Or—
No, Eddie can’t bring himself to think of Buck. It’s too painful, so Eddie does what he always did. He puts it in a box that only he can access, hiding it with a smile and quick conversation change. He doesn’t think of how Buck’s eyes were red when he stood at the airport security, asking him why. He doesn’t think about the night the man came to his house at one in the morning, demanding why he would leave, even if he was no longer was a firefighter. Eddie certainly doesn’t think of how Christopher clung to his shoulders and Buck assured him that they would be friends – they would be family – no matter how apart they lived. Eddie doesn’t think of any of this.
Instead, he goes to work. He stitches up ridiculous teenagers who stick their hands in things where they don’t belong and takes the vitals of the elderly who come from the retirement home down the road. He picks Christopher up from school and listens to his day and makes polite conversation with his parents. Eddie pretends he doesn’t see the concern in his Abuela’s eyes or how Christopher is glued to his phone in the evenings with a contact that starts with the letter B.
He's fine.
Really. Eddie’s fine.
“Mi amor,” Abuela says one day, cupping Eddie’s face as he stares out the window at nothing, lost in a dream he’s trying to cling to, despite morning threatening to whisk it away. “This too will pass.”
Eddie frowns. “What will pass?”
It’s a dumb answer to an obvious question, but Abuela doesn’t call him on it. For that, he’s grateful. Instead, she hands him a coffee and moves to the living room, hoisting herself in a chair that is too big and too small at the same time. She flips on the television, the news running through all the terrible things that have happened in the day, so much so that Eddie has to turn away. Instead, his feet take him to his son room almost on autopilot, as if they knew he needed comfort in a manner no one else could give.
Christopher is sleeping, his long hair curling on the pillow. Eddie thinks he should schedule a haircut appointment, but he looks so young and Eddie wants him to stay that way for a little longer. A little longer. When he doesn’t think about his dad dying and being alone.
“Dad?”
Christopher’s sleepy voice startles him out of his stupor, Eddie moving from the doorframe. “Everything alright? You have any nightmares?”
“No,” Christopher says, but there’s something in his tone that makes Eddie frown.
“Chris, if you did, there’s no shame in—”
“I didn’t have a nightmare.” Christopher says firmly, his eyes squeezed shut. “I-I dreamt of L.A.”
Eddie freezes. He doesn’t think about L.A. He doesn’t think about those he left, the life he could’ve had. He doesn’t— “What about L.A.?” Eddie asks.
Christopher sits up, his back leaning against his headboard, eyes guilty. “I know you don’t like to talk about it.” He mutters sheepishly.
“No,” Eddie says quickly, moving toward the bed. “If you want to talk about it, I will. I-I—” Eddie swallows thickly. “I miss L.A. bud.”
Christopher looks up, his eyes big and too young for Eddie to handle. “You do?”
Eddie carefully seats himself on the bed, trying to think of all the right things to say. A dozen options run through his head, but he settles on the only thing he can wrap his head around: the truth. “Yeah, everyday. I-I miss—” Eddie bows his head. “Everyday.”
“Me too.” Christopher says. “I wish we were there.”
Eddie has to bite the almost instantaneous “Me too.” that catches in his throat. Composing himself, he smiles softly at Christopher. “I get that.” Eddie says. “I know it’s a big change. But it’s for the best. For both of us.”
Christopher looks at him – really looks at him in a way that makes Eddie feel raw and ready to fight the world all at once. “Are you happy, Dad?”
“What?”
“Are you happy? Here?” Christopher asks carefully. “Are you mad we’re here?”
Eddie sucks in a breath. He hadn’t been expecting that question, which he hates. Eddie likes being prepared, he likes having answers to everything. But Christopher had a tendency to throw a curveball and Eddie wishes he could be more prepared. “No, Chris. I’m so happy we’re here. You and I – we’re safe, we’re happy. That’s all I could ever want.”
Christopher frowns. “We’re safe.” He agrees. “But you’re not happy.”
“Chris—”
“I need to go to the bathroom.” Christopher says, throwing his blanket off of him. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but finds himself at a loss for words. Because what would he do – lie? Lie to his own son and say he’s happy to be in Texas? Happy to be away from his family in L.A.?
So instead, Eddie gets ready for work. Makes breakfast. Makes their lunches. Takes everything one step at a time and pushes away anything that is too painful to handle.
“Buck.”
Eddie stills at the name. He almost thinks he’s imagined it – that he’s been thinking so much about Buck and his betrayed eyes that he imagined Chris saying it. Except he didn’t.
When he realizes why, Eddie wishes he had.
Christopher is sitting at the table, eating his cereal, eyes glued to the news that Abuela is watching. The spoon is frozen in his hand, his attention on the television. A few seconds later, the spoon clatters onto the table and then to the ground. Eddie barely registers it.
Taylor Kelly is on the television, which should be his first sign that something’s wrong. She’s an anchor in L.A. – why in the world is she on his television? “This is the live broadcast from Los Angeles, where a firefighter is currently pinned under a house. We interrupt your morning, because we have received information that this is the same station that helped our own during the wildfires. We’re receiving word that there are two children with him, and that Station 118 is doing everything they can to keep all three alive. We will go to L.A.’s Taylor Kelly.”
Taylor had been frozen on the television, the cool confidence pouring from the screen. Eddie tries not to bristle. It wasn’t that Eddie didn’t like Taylor per se, he just thought that she wasn’t right for Buck. For someone with severe abandonment issues – Eddie doesn’t just think that, he said that to Buck once in an argument – the woman was the least compatible match he could think of. But he never wanted this for her. Her eyes were hard, as if she was willing herself to not cry, the mic clutched in her hand, white-knuckled.
Taylor shakes her hair and takes a breath. “We’re live from the house in Los Feliz, which has collapsed ten minutes ago. We have heard that the firefighters were evacuating when the structure came down. The majority of the station was able to evacuate before the disaster, but one firefighter – an Evan Buckley, the same firefighter caught under the ladder truck years ago – was trying to extricate two children when everything collapsed. They are currently trying to – wait. Our radios are picking up the conversation.”
Eddie ices over. “Turn it off.” Eddie says, but the words are so quiet, no one moves. He wants to shout – want to yell that everyone should turn everything off, but he can’t. He’s frozen, quiet, and cursed to hear what comes next.
“Firefighter Buckley, respond.” Eddie hears Bobby’s voice, as familiar as if he’s there. He can almost smell the plaster, the smoke, the burnt wood at his nostrils. Bobby’s voice sounds firm, but Eddie can hear the panic rumbling underneath. “Firefighter Buckley. Respond!”
The static rumbles and Eddie feels it in his bones. He’s gripping the counter, his eyes frozen against the television.
“…Buck?”
“Cap?”
Eddie lets out a breath when he hears Buck’s weak voice across the television. He’s almost so relieved that he missing the wheezing, the pain, the tightness. Bobby lets out a sigh. “Buck, status report. Are you hurt?”
The silence that follows causes Eddie’s heart to ratchet up. He can feel the pounding in his ears, his fingers and toes starting to tingle. He recognizes the signs of a panic attack – his new therapist has taught him that – but there’s nothing he can do to stop it. All he can do is wait for Buck’s voice, wait for Buck to pull him back to reality.
“I-I have two kids here. The last two. I-I—” There’s a wheeze and the radio cuts off.
“Buck!” Bobby shouts. “Goddammit, Buck do not turn your radio off, answer me now!”
“Geez Cap, can’t a guy cough in peace?” Buck is clearly trying for levity and misses by a mile. “I have Jake and Margret here – we need you to get the debris off of us?”
“What are your injuries?”
Eddie clutches his coffee. Moving from the kitchen, he stands as close to the television as he dares. He can feel his Abuela’s gaze on him.
“Jake has a laceration on his head, but he’s responsive. Margaret is holding her wrist. I think Jake make have a side wound that’s bleeding.”
“Can you stop the bleeding?”
Buck doesn’t respond. Eddie’s blood freezes. There’s no way Buck wouldn’t help the kid unless he couldn’t. Unless—
“I can’t reach.”
Bobby breathes. “Buck. What are your injuries?”
Buck doesn’t answer. Eddie waits.
Eddie’s fine.
He doesn’t think about how he should be there. About how he’s Buck’s partner and they always said they’d go in together, come out together. He doesn’t think about how Buck didn’t have someone watching his back. About how there’s no one he trusts enough to have his back besides himself. Even Bobby. Eddie knows it’s wrong, but he only trusts himself to protect those he loves. If he was there, if he was in L.A., if he—
“I need to go.” Eddie hears himself say, his words foreign and broken. It doesn’t sound like him, the man speaking sounds manic – terrified. “I-I—”
“Go.” Abuela says.
When she gets in front of him, Eddie doesn’t know. But suddenly her hands are on his cheeks and she’s holding him. “Go.”
So Eddie goes.
***
It starts like a regular day.
It occurs to Buck that he thinks that of most days that go wrong. Buck wishes he was a little more intuitive, but bad things happen before he realizes it. In the end, it starts as a regular day.
Buck wakes up, makes coffee, and tries to push an emptiness out of his chest. If anyone asks, he’d blame it on his breakup – shortly after Eddie left, Buck found himself at odds with Taylor. He picked fights, he pulled away, he did everything he hated. Buck didn’t quite recognize himself, honestly. All the tactics that have been used on him in the past, he did.
He couldn’t understand it.
None of it.
Of course, Buck understood Eddie wanting to move to a safer profession. He even understood going to his family in Texas. What Buck didn’t understand was the missed calls. The unanswered text messages. The ‘Read’ notifications and the empty place in his heart.
When he and Taylor broke up, he didn’t feel it. He couldn’t. Because he felt so many other things. It was too much – between Maddie and Eddie – Buck couldn’t make sense of it. Was he destined to be alone? For everyone he ever felt anything for left. Maddie, Chim, Eddie, Christopher. God, his own parents didn’t want to see him.
So Buck makes coffee. He eats some toast, pulls a shirt over his head that smells relatively clean, and leaves his apartment with five minutes to spare. When he reaches the station, he realizes he’s the first one there for his shift, which has been the norm since Eddie left. Placing his bag in his locker, Buck looks at the empty locker next to his. Sucking in a breath, he shakes his head.
“Man, one of these days, I’m going to beat you here and it’ll be amazing.” Ravi says as he walks in, placing his bag down on the bench. “Do you just live here?”
Buck barks out a laugh, but it feels hollow. “Yup. I sleep in the bunk and eat leftovers when no one’s looking.”
“We knew you were the one eating all the leftovers a long time ago.” Bobby says as he strolls in. “You’re not nearly as smooth as you think you are.”
“I am so smooth!” Buck exclaims, affronted. “I bet you guys didn’t know—”
“You stole the ladder truck for sex?” Hen offers as she walks in.
“Women flee you regularly?” Ravi suggests.
“That you steal all the leftovers because you’ve created a muscle mass that if you don’t eat constantly, you’ll die?” Bobby laughs.
Buck is speechless. “I need to stop talking to you guys.” He mutters, tossing his bag in his locker. “I have loads of secrets you wish you knew.”
Hen throws Ravi a look, who doesn’t seem to know what to do with it. Her eyes flit around, as if she’s waiting for the one person who always shared her exasperation with Buck’s antics, but it just made Buck feel his absence even more. Hen must notice Buck’s gaze because she stops. He can tell she wants to say something but he implores her not to with every ounce of will he can. Small victories, because it gets across and she gives him a private smile.
“Come on,” Bobby says with a warm smile. “Let’s get some food in us before the alarm goes off.”
Buck moves to leave, following Hen and Ravi out the door, when Bobby stops him. Startling, Buck looks at his mentor. “Everything alright, Cap?”
“You are taking the words out of my mouth.” Bobby says, his eyes unreadable. “I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. It’s been a tough year.”
It’s everything Buck can do not to tear up right there. He can’t help it – his emotions read plainly on his face as if he’s telling them to whoever is speaking – and it’s been all he’s been able to do not to spill over everyone. It’s hard not to listen to the gnawing voice in the back of his head that tells him that he is unlovable – that everyone will eventually leave him. Especially when… everyone is leaving him.
“Yeah, it’s been a tough year.” Buck admits, unable to do anything else. “But I’m alright.”
“You sure?” Bobby asks. “It’ll be alright if you aren’t.”
Buck takes a moment to decide the best course of action. Sure, he dives into danger without a second thought, but this is different. His answer here could affect his ability to work – and after everything? With Maddie gone, Eddie gone, Christopher gone… his job was all he had left.
“I’m alright. Getting through.”
Bobby’s eyes narrow, as if he’s surveying the man, perceiving the lie. “Well, if there’s anything you need to talk about—”
“Naw, I’m good.” Buck says with a broad smile. “Just looking forward to helping some people today.”
Bobby takes a moment. Buck isn’t sure what the man’s going to say – if he’s going to argue, yell, or look at him in that disappointed expression that Buck hates. In the end, he doesn’t do any of those. “If you’re sure.” Bobby says, unsure.
“Sure as I ever am.” Buck says with a grin. “You know me, perpetually casual.”
“You are a lot of things, Buck.” Bobby says carefully. “But casual isn’t one of them.” Clapping him on the shoulder, Bobby beams. “Let’s get some dinner, shall we?”
Buck hesitates. He thinks he should say something – how he’s having trouble sleeping, how he’s broken up with Taylor, how he feels empty and he isn’t sure what to do about it. Opening his mouth, Buck thinks about how he could phrase this without alarming his captain so that he’d be benched. “I—"
As if the Universe knew what was happening, the alarm rings out, shattering any safe space Bobby once created. “Off to it, I guess.” Buck says instead, pushing past his captain before the man can ever ask what he planned on saying.
He wasn’t sure anyway.
It’s better this way.
The ride is quiet, the usual banter that followed to their jobs, gone. Buck is distinctly aware of people throwing glances his way, but he can’t bring himself to care too much. Instead, he leans his head against the window, the bulky headset knocking against the glass. He thinks of Eddie and Christopher and wonders if they’re doing alright. Wonders if someone is talking to Chris about animals and playing video games with him after he finishes his homework. Wonders if someone is calling Eddie out on his bullshit when he retreats into himself or offering a beer when there aren’t any words. Wonders if there is someone there to support the Diaz family, when it seems like it’s too much.
Buck almost scoffs at himself. If Eddie wanted a clean break, that was his decision. He should respect it, he should—
“Oh my god.”
When Ravi breathes, Buck knows it’s a bad one. Turning his head, he see the house already aflame, the fire raging on both floors of the modest building. Vaguely he hears someone screaming outside the truck and Bobby says, “You know the drill. We need to know how many people were in the house and evacuate as soon as possible. If the fire is any indication, we need to press fast forward on this one. Ravi, you’re with Hen. Triage any injuries outside of the house. Buck, you’re with me.”
Buck hops out without a word, watching Hen approach the screaming woman. The whole scene is loud in a strange way. Usually when he’s onsite, the world drifts away and all he can hear is the pounding of his heartbeat. Except this time, a woman is screaming and he can hear how the fire is destroying the foundation of the house.
“The foundation is about to give way!” Bobby is shouting, strapping his mask on. “There are two kids in the house, along with the husband. I’ll scour the first floor, you go on the second. If you can’t find anything within ten minutes, you get back out, understood.”
Buck nods absently, unable to stop the roaring of the fire from invading all his senses.
“No, Buck. This isn’t a ‘stay behind for everyone’ sort of thing. I think you to verbally acknowledge that in fifteen minutes, you’ll evacuate.”
“Yes sir.” Buck offers, no teasing.
If he’s being honest, this fire is rattling him. He isn’t sure how it’s breaking through all his defense mechanisms to move forward, but the flames are bright and blinding his senses. The growling of the fire invades his ears.
Pushing forward, Buck runs up the stairs, losing his captain to the fire. He can almost hear the footsteps behind him, as if Eddie is here and having his back. The hair on his neck stands up when he realizes he’s alone, just like he always was.
Shaking his head, Buck presses on. “LAFD!” He shouts over the fire. “LAFD, anyone here?”
The only response is the crackle of flames.
Shoving through a stuck door, Buck blinks through the smoke. “LAFD! LAFD, anyone here?”
There’s a cry. Whipping his head in the direction of the noise, Buck takes off, ignoring the groaning of the weary wood underneath his feet. “Keep on talking! I need you to lead me to you!” Buck exclaims, desperately searching the floor. “LAFD, where are you? LAF—”
“Buckley, respond! Time to evacuate now!” Bobby says over the static of the radio. “This house is too unstable, they are saying we need to leave immediately!”
“Cap, I heard someone! There’s someone up here—”
“Absolutely not, Buck! I said before we ran in—”
Buck swings a door open to two sets of eyes. Tucked in a small closet are two children, clinging to each other, smoke swirling around their throats. Bobby is yelling on the radio, Buck cutting him off. “Cap, I got two children in a closet. I’m going to start evacuating right now!”
Buck hears an uncharacteristic swear on the other end of the radio. “Need any assistance?”
Kneeling, Buck puts his hands up carefully. “LAFD, I’m here to get you out. Are you hurt? Can you walk?”
The boy – whose arms are wrapped around a small girl who is clinging to him tightly – says, “She hurt her ankle. I can’t carry her.”
Buck nods. “That’s why I’m here. I’m going to get you out. Can you walk?”
The boy struggles to stand, coughing a few times before steadying himself. “I think so.”
“Okay,” Buck starts, grabbing the young girl and holding her tightly. “We’re going to get out. Just follow me.”
He smiles at them.
It started like a regular day.
Buck got up, made coffee, and missed the people he loved most in the world.
Then the world opened up to swallow him.
Literally.
One moment he’s helping the boy up, then the world decided he’d had enough.
As Buck falls, he’s inclined to agree.
***
Bobby knows what’s going to happen approximately three seconds before it does.
It’s a gift and a curse. To always be a few seconds ahead.
He’s out of the house, ash on his face, helping a limping father to a stretcher. It wasn’t hard to find him, the man had been wandering around, screaming for his children. He may as well have had a beacon.
Except he reminds Bobby that there’s another child in the building.
“Firefighter Buckley.” He says in his radio. There’s a crackling of static and the house groans.
“You got anyone else in there?” Someone walks up, jabbing a round finger at the building. “It’s about to go. There’s minutes left.”
Bobby tries to ignore the feeling of ice poured down his back. “Buckley, respond! Time to evacuate now!” He shouts into the radio, unable to take his hand off of it. “The house is too unstable, they’re saying we need to evacuate immediately!”
“Buck still in there?” Hen asks, walking up.
“He went on the second floor.” Bobby says, unable to tear his gaze away. “There are two kids in there.”
“Ah, shit.” Hen breathes, shutting her eyes. “You know how Buck is with kids.”
Yes, Bobby knows all too well. Bringing the radio closer, Bobby moves to bellow at the man when the device comes to life.
“Cap! I heard someone, there’s someone up here—”
“Absolutely not, Buck! I said before we ran in—”
“Cap, I got two children in a closet. I’m going to start evacuating right now!”
Bobby can’t help but swear. He tried to be as professional as he could for the team, but there were moments when it slipped. Truth be told, those moments typically involved Buck. Headstrong, reckless, and willing to put anyone else’s life before his. A dangerous cocktail of cockiness, selflessness, and recklessness. Incredible when he was safe, terrifying when he wasn’t.
This was a terrifying moment.
He and Hen share a look. “Need any assistance?” Bobby manages as smoothly as possible.
Except what happens next is very fast. So fast, Bobby only has three seconds to comprehend what’s happening. Bobby takes a step closer to the house as he waits for Buck to respond, and a beam on the second floor catches his eye. It’s cracking, crumbling, ready to plummet.
It does.
It takes the rest of the house with it.
The only thing Bobby can hear is static.
***
Hen doesn’t scream.
Even when the scene is horrifying, she doesn’t lose her cool. She remains focused on the task on hand. Except right now? She doesn’t feel focused. She doesn’t feel collected.
Hen feels like screaming.
Because the house that was just upright is no longer so. It’s crumbled, nothing more than a pile of rubble and smoke and dust, materials balancing on top of each other. Still. Unmoving.
“Buck, respond.” Bobby is saying next to her on the radio, the panic palpable in his voice. It wavers and shakes, the man’s eyes wide as if he watched his entire world crumble down. “Firefighter Buckley! Buckley respond!”
Except Buckley doesn’t respond.
There’s nothing but static, taunting the group that made it outside. Hen wants to believe that Buck is messing with them – a prank after they teased him at the station – but the silence drags longer.
“Firefighter Buckley, respond!” Bobby shouts, his eyes growing manic by the passing second. He grips the radio, knuckles white. “Buck?”
“Cap?”
It’s all Hen can do to keep upright. Her breath comes out shaky, Buck’s quiet voice terrifying, but there. Bobby starts to talk to him and Hen finds herself unable to focus on anything except alive alive alive.
The radio grows quiet. “Buck, come on, I need to you to keep talking to me.” Bobby says, rushing over to the house. Hen follows, not even waiting for the orders as they start to pull debris off. “Do not go silent, I need to you to keep you radio on.”
There’s a huff on the other end and pained noise.
“I’m sorry, my fingers slipped.”
Hen wasn’t expecting the young voice. The terror in the tone, the squeak of youth. Bobby’s eyes widen, turning to Hen. Then he collects himself. “That’s okay, I understand. Who am I talking to?”
“Jake. The firefighter asked that I keep the radio button pushed. But my hands are wet, so I slipped. I’m really, really s-sorry.”
“That’s okay Jake, we’re on our way to you.” Bobby says, his voice strained as he pulls a rock out of the pile. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“My head hurts a little. And my sister’s ankle is stuck. But I think we’re okay.”
“That’s good, that’s good. We’ll get to you soon and make sure you’re alright.” Bobby continues. “What about the firefighter with you, is he alright?”
The radio goes dark. Bobby continues to move, Hen right behind him with Ravi moving quicker than she’s ever seen him. More firefighters from different station pull up, none wasting time. Bobby quickly gives them a rundown before clicking his radio. “Jake?”
“Cap,” Buck says softly, his voice pained. “I think they’ll be okay if we get out soon.”
Hen stills at the third avoidance of the question. “And you?” Bobby presses.
Buck lets out a weak chuckle. “I think I finally ran out of lives.”
Bobby swears again, hand off the radio. Then he clicks it. “Absolutely not, I do not give you permission to give up. You are going to hold on, keep those children safe, and we’re going to fix you up. No matter what it is.”
“I’m trying,” Buck says with what sounds like considerable effort. “Any way you can work faster? I can’t hold much longer.”
Hen frowns. “What do you mean by hold?” She can’t stop herself from joining the radio.
“I-I need you do to something for me. I—” There’s a terrible wheeze and Bobby can almost see the man’s pinched face, desperately trying to smooth any indication of harm. “I need you to tell—”
“No.” Bobby says strongly into the radio, his eyes never wavering from the collapsed building. “No, firefighter, you’re not doing this. We’re clearing debris and we’ll—”
“Please?”
It’s small, almost childlike.
How could they ever deny a dying man’s request?
When neither of them respond, Buck goes forward. “—yeah, just keep holding the button, you’re doing great. Thank you so much, we’ll be out soon. Cap?”
Bobby stops pulling rocks off the pile. Instead he looks to the sky, eyes filled something that looks like tragedy and despair all at once. “I’m still here, Buck.”
“I-I need you to tell Maddie that… that I love her. And if she’s getting help and not here, it’s okay. I just need her to know – know I love her so much. That it’ll be okay. Can you do that? Can you tell her?”
Bobby clenches his jaw. “I can do that.”
“If you talk to Chim, tell him I-I’m sorry. I’m just so, so sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t fix things between us. That I love him like family but I’m so used to it being me and Maddie. I-I—”
“I promise, Buck.” The radio grows silent again and Bobby clears his throat. “Buck, you still with me?”
“Yeah,” he states, the words strained. “I—” There’s a sigh. “If you see Eddie…”
Hen waits. She waits for the confession that she’d expected for years, the desire she watched build up.
“Just let him know, he deserves everything. Every happiness, everything. I wish he knew that. I-I wish… I wish I could’ve given it to them. But I’m glad he found it, somewhere else.”
There’s a small sob.
“I’ve always been afraid of dying alone.”
“You are not alone.” Bobby says firmly in the radio. “And you are not dying, do you hear? That is a direct order. I know you like to ignore those, but you will listen to this one, you hear? You will tell everyone these things in person. I am not interested in losing another piece of my family, do you hear? You. Are. Not. Alone.”
“Over here!” Someone calls. “Jesus, we need to be careful.”
Hen knows that she needs to prepare herself. Having a building fall on you is almost a certain death sentence, but the fact that Buck was talking to them, well, didn’t mean the scene before her wasn’t going to be terrible.
When she approaches, she stops in her tracks. She can’t be helpful, she can’t be unbiased, she can’t think clearly.
Hen feels like screaming.
Because when the firefighters from the 96 pull off a cinderblock and those from the 87 yank a few wooden beams, she can see it.
If she didn’t know she was looking at an emergency, it may have looked trivial. Buck is there, on his hands and knees, sweat rolling down his face, his arms shaking. Actually, his entire body is trembling and his eyes are closed. Underneath him, tucked in between his arms, are two children, hiding under the expanse of his chest.
If it wasn’t an emergency, it may have been sweet.
But it was an emergency. And a building fell.
There was a metal rod sticking through Buck’s side, blood dripping to the ground, pinning him to the earth.
He remains stuck, trembling. Protecting.
“Pull the kids out now!” Bobby’s shouting. “Get them out of the way so we can cut him loose! Buck!” Bobby states, rushing over to the man. “Listen to me, I know you’ll want to buckle once the kids are safe, but I need you to not move, okay? You can’t shift, we need to cut you free and then we’ll get you loaded up, alright?”
Buck’s head lifts a bit, his eyes clouded with pain and the haze of trauma. “I’m t-trying, Cap.”
“And you’re great, I just need you to listen to me. You cannot relax until I tell you. Understood? You. Cannot. Move.”
Buck nods lazily, his head lolling. Hen watches the children get pulled out from under the small protective fortress he made with his body, the screaming of the mother louder than ever. Buck starts to droop, Bobby there to grab his shoulders. “No, Buck! Stay upright, we need to cut this rod, then you’ll be able to rest, understand? You’re so close—”
Hen takes a step back. Bobby’s hands are staining with blood and she can see the pool on the rocks around him. On the shirts of the children that were once protected.
Pulling out her phone, she looks at her contact list – at a number she hadn’t dialed for quite some time. It takes a few rings for them to answer, Hen wondering if they’d ignore her like they had the last three calls. Except they answer, low and tired and impatient. “It’s Hen, I need you to come back now.”
Before they can answer, Hen pressed forward. “You need to come back. Now. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
Hen watches as the firefighters grab the saw, the sparks flying around the scene as Bobby holds Buck up, his arms that were once locked now threatening to collapse altogether.
Hen doesn’t lose her cool. She always remains focused on the task at hand.
Hen feels like screaming.